Thus he; and thus the monarch of the swains: 
“Severely chaste Penelope remains;
But, lost to every joy, she wastes the day
In tedious cares, and weeps the night away.”

He ended, and (receiving as they pass
The javelin pointed with a star of brass),
They reach’d the dome; the dome with marble shined. 
His seat Ulysses to the prince resign’d. 
“Not so (exclaims the prince with decent grace)
For me, this house shall find an humbler place: 
To usurp the honours due to silver hairs
And reverend strangers modest youth forbears.” 
Instant the swain the spoils of beasts supplies,
And bids the rural throne with osiers rise. 
There sate the prince:  the feast Eumaeus spread,
And heap’d the shining canisters with bread. 
Thick o’er the board the plenteous viands lay,
The frugal remnants of the former day. 
Then in a bowl he tempers generous wines,
Around whose verge a mimic ivy twines. 
And now, the rage of thirst and hunger fled,
Thus young Ulysses to Eumaeus said: 

“Whence, father, from what shore this stranger, say? 
What vessel bore him o’er the watery way? 
To human step our land impervious lies,
And round the coast circumfluent oceans rise.”

The swain returns:  “A tale of sorrows hear: 
In spacious Crete he drew his natal air;
Long doom’d to wander o’er the land and main,
For Heaven has wove his thread of life with pain. 
Half breathless ’scaping to the land he flew
From Thesprot mariners, a murderous crew. 
To thee, my son, the suppliant I resign;
I gave him my protection, grant him thine.”

“Hard task (he cries) thy virtue gives thy friend,
Willing to aid, unable to defend. 
Can strangers safely in the court reside,
’Midst the swell’d insolence of lust and pride? 
E’en I unsafe:  the queen in doubt to wed,
Or pay due honours to the nuptial bed. 
Perhaps she weds regardless of her fame,
Deaf to the mighty Ulyssean name. 
However, stranger! from our grace receive
Such honours as befit a prince to give;
Sandals, a sword and robes, respect to prove,
And safe to sail with ornaments of love. 
Till then, thy guest amid the rural train,
Far from the court, from danger far, detain. 
’Tis mine with food the hungry to supply,
And clothe the naked from the inclement sky. 
Here dwell in safety from the suitors’ wrongs,
And the rude insults of ungovern’d tongues. 
For should’st thou suffer, powerless to relieve,
I must behold it, and can only grieve. 
The brave, encompass’d by an hostile train,
O’erpower’d by numbers, is but brave in vain.”