THE

ODYSSEY.

BOOK XXII.

THE ARGUMENT.

THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS.

Ulysses begins the slaughter of the suitors by the death of Antinous. He declares himself, and lets fly his arrows at the rest. Telemachus assists, and brings arms for his father, himself, Eumæus and Philætius. Melanthius does the same for

the wooers.

Minerva encourages Ulysses in the shape of Mentor. The suitors are all slain, only Medon and Phemius are spared. Melanthius and the unfaithful servants are executed. The rest acknowledge their master with all demonstrations of joy.

THEN fierce the hero o'er the threshold strode; Stripp'd of his rags, he blaz'd out like a god. Full in their face the lifted bow he bore, And quiver'd deaths, a formidable store; Before his feet the rattling shower he threw, And thus terrific to the suitor-crew.

One venturous game this hand has won to-day, Another, princes! yet remains to play; Another mark our arrow must attain, Phoebus assist! nor be the labour vain.

Swift as the word the parting arrow sings, And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings:

Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul!
High in his hands he rear'd the golden bowl;
E'en then to drain it lengthen'd out his breath;
Chang'd to the deep, the bitter draught of death:
For fate who fear'd amidst a feastful band?
And fate to numbers by a single hand?

Full through his throat Ulysses' weapon pass'd, And pierc'd the neck. He falls, and breathes his last.

The tumbling goblet the wide floor o'erflows,
A stream of gore burst spouting from his nose;
Grim in convulsive agonies he sprawls;

Before him spurn'd, the loaded table falls,
And spreads the pavement with a mingled flood
Of floating meats, and wine, and human blood.
Amaz'd, confounded, as they saw him fall,
Uprose the throngs tumultuous round the hall:
O'er all the dome they cast a haggard eye,
Each look'd for arms, in vain; no arms were nigh:
Aim'st thou at princes? (all amaz'd they said)
Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play'd;
Thy erring shaft has made our bravest bleed,
And death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed.
Vultures shall tear thee-Thus incens'd they
spoke,

While each to chance ascrib'd the wondrous stroke:

Blind as they were; for death e'en now invades
His destin'd prey, and wraps them all in shades.
Then grimly frowning with a dreadful look,
That wither'd all their hearts, Ulysses spoke:
Dogs, ye have had your day: ye fear'd no more
Ulysses vengeful from the Trojan shore;
While to your lust and spoil a guardless prey,
Our house, our wealth, our helpless handmaids lay:
Not so content, with bolder frenzy fir'd,
E'en to our bed presumptuous you aspir'd:

Laws or divine or human fail'd to move,
Or shame of men, or dread of gods above:
Heedless alike of infamy or praise,

Or fame's eternal voice in future days:

The hour of vengeance, wretches, now is come, Impending fate is yours, and instant doom.

Thus dreadful he. Confus'd the suitors stood; From their pale cheeks recedes the flying blood; Trembling they sought their guilty heads to hide, Alone the bold Eurymachus replied.

If, as thy words import, (he thus began)
Ulysses lives, and thou the mighty man,
Great are thy wrongs, and much hast thou sus-
tain'd

In thy spoil'd palace, and exhausted land;
The cause and author of those guilty deeds,
Lo! at thy feet unjust Antinous bleeds.
Not love, but wild ambition was his guide;
To slay thy son, thy kingdoms to divide,
These were his aims; but juster Jove denied.
Since cold in death th' offender lies; oh spare
Thy suppliant people, and receive their prayer!
Brass, gold, and treasures shall the spoil defray,
Two hundred oxen every prince shall pay:
The waste of years refunded in a day.
Till then thy wrath is just-Ulysses burn'd
With high disdain, and sternly thus return'd.

All, all the treasures that enrich'd our throne
Before your rapines, join'd with all your own,
If offer'd, vainly should for mercy call;
'Tis you that offer, and I scorn them all;
Your blood is my demand, your lives the prize,
Till pale as yonder wretch each suitor lies.
Hence with those coward terms: or fight, or fly,
This choice is left ye, to resist or die;
And die I trust ye shall.-He sternly spoke:
With guilty fears the pale assembly shook.

Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train:

Yon archer, comrades, will not shoot in vain:
But from the threshold shall his darts be sped,
(Whoe'er he be) till every prince lie dead.

Be mindful of yourselves, draw forth your swords,
And to his shafts obtend these ample boards,
(So need compels.) Then all united strive
The bold invader from his post to drive;
The city rous'd shall to our rescue haste,
And this mad archer soon have shot his last.
Swift as he spoke, he drew his traitor sword,
And like a lion rush'd against his lord:
The wary chief the rushing foe repress'd,
Who met the point, and forc'd it in his breast,
His failing hand deserts the lifted sword
And prone he falls extended o'er the board;
Before him wide, in mix'd effusion roll
The untasted viands, and the jovial bowl.
Full through his liver pass'd the mortal wound,
With dying rage his forehead beats the ground,
He spurn'd the seat with fury as he fell,
And the fierce soul to darkness div'd and hell.
Next bold Amphinomus his arms extends
To force the pass; the god-like man defends.
Thy spear, Telemachus! prevents th' attack,
The brazen weapon driving through his back,
Thence through his breast its bloody passage tore;
Flat falls he thundering on the marble floor,
And his crush'd forehead marks the stone with
gore.

He left his javelin in the dead, for fear

The long incumbrance of the weighty spear
To the fierce foe advantage might afford,
To rush between, and use the shorten'd sword;
With speedy ardour to his sire he flies,

And, arm, great father! arm (in haste he cries)

Lo hence I run for other arms to wield,
For missile javelins, and for helm and shield;
Fast by our side let either faithful swain
In arms attend us, and their part sustain.

Haste and return, (Ulysses made reply) While yet the auxiliar shafts this hand supply; Lest thus alone, encounter'd by an host, Driven from th' gate, the important pass be lost. With speed Telemachus obeys, and flies, Where pil'd on heaps the royal armour lies; Four brazen helmets, eight refulgent spears, And four broad bucklers to his sire he bears: At once in brazen panoply they shone, At once each servant brac'd his armour on; Around their king a faithful guard they stand, While yet each shaft flew deathful from his hand: Chief after chief expir'd at every wound, And swell'd the bleeding mountain on the ground. Soon as his store of flying fates was spent, Against the wall he set the bow unbent: And now his shoulders bear the massy shield, And now his hands two beamy javelins wield: He frowns beneath his nodding plume, that play'd O'er the high crest, and cast a dreadful shade.

There stood a window near, whence looking
down

From o'er the porch, appear'd the subject town.
A double strength of valves secur'd the place:
A high and narrow, but the only pass:

The cautious king, with all preventing care,
To guard that outlet plac'd Eumæus there:
When Agelais thus: Has none the sense

To mount yon window, and alarm from thence The neighbour town? the town shall force the door,

And this bold archer soon shall shoot no more.