Awed by the prince, thus haughty, bold, and young,
Rage gnaw’d the lip, and wonder chain’d the tongue. 
Silence at length the gay Antinous broke,
Constrain’d a smile, and thus ambiguous spoke: 
“What god to your untutor’d youth affords
This headlong torrent of amazing words? 
May Jove delay thy reign, and cumber late
So bright a genius with the toils of state!”

“Those toils (Telemachus serene replies)
Have charms, with all their weight, t’allure the wise. 
Fast by the throne obsequious fame resides,
And wealth incessant rolls her golden tides. 
Nor let Antinous rage, if strong desire
Of wealth and fame a youthful bosom fire: 
Elect by Jove, his delegate of sway,
With joyous pride the summons I’d obey. 
Whene’er Ulysses roams the realm of night,
Should factious power dispute my lineal right,
Some other Greeks a fairer claim may plead;
To your pretence their title would precede. 
At least, the sceptre lost, I still should reign
Sole o’er my vassals, and domestic train.”

To this Eurymachus:  “To Heaven alone
Refer the choice to fill the vacant throne. 
Your patrimonial stores in peace possess;
Undoubted, all your filial claim confess: 
Your private right should impious power invade,
The peers of Ithaca would arm in aid. 
But say, that stranger guest who late withdrew,
What and from whence? his name and lineage shew. 
His grave demeanour and majestic grace
Speak him descended of non vulgar race: 
Did he some loan of ancient right require,
Or came forerunner of your sceptr’d sire?”

“Oh son of Polybus!” the prince replies,
“No more my sire will glad these longing eyes;
The queen’s fond hope inventive rumour cheers,
Or vain diviners’ dreams divert her fears. 
That stranger-guest the Taphian realm obeys,
A realm defended with encircling seas. 
Mentes, an ever-honour’d name, of old
High in Ulysses’ social list enroll’d.”

Thus he, though conscious of the ethereal guest,
Answer’d evasive of the sly request. 
Meantime the lyre rejoins the sprightly lay;
Love-dittied airs, and dance, conclude the day
But when the star of eve with golden light
Adorn’d the matron brow of sable night,
The mirthful train dispersing quit the court,
And to their several domes to rest resort. 
A towering structure to the palace join’d;
To this his steps the thoughtful prince inclined: 
In his pavilion there, to sleep repairs;
The lighted torch, the sage Euryclea bears
(Daughter of Ops, the just Pisenor’s son,
For twenty beeves by great Laertes won;
In rosy prime with charms attractive graced,
Honour’d by him, a gentle lord and chaste,
With dear esteem:  too wise, with jealous strife
To taint the joys of sweet connubial life. 
Sole with Telemachus her service ends,
A child she nursed him, and a man attends).