The prince, well pleased to disappoint their wiles, Steals on his sire a glance, and secret smiles. And now, a short repast prepared, they fed Till the keen rage of craving hunger fled: Then to repose withdrawn, apart they lay, And in soft sleep forgot the cares of day. BOOK XVII. ARGUMENT. Telemachus returning to the city, relates to Penelope the sum of his travels. Ulysses is conducted by Eumaeus to the palace, where his old dog Argus acknowledges his master, after an absence of twenty years, and dies with joy. Eumaeus returns into the country, and Ulysses remains among the suitors, whose behaviour is described. Soon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn, Sprinkled with roseate light the dewy lawn, In haste the prince arose, prepared to part; His hand impatient grasps the pointed dart; Fair on his feet the polish’d sandals shine, And thus he greets the master of the swine: “My friend, adieu! let this short stay suffice; I haste to meet my mother’s longing eyes, And end her tears, her sorrows and her sighs. But thou, attentive, what we order heed: This hapless stranger to the city lead: By public bounty let him there be fed, And bless the hand that stretches forth the bread. To wipe the tears from all afflicted eyes, My will may covet, but my power denies. If this raise anger in the stranger’s thought, The pain of anger punishes the fault: The very truth I undisguised declare; For what so easy as to be sincere?” To this Ulysses: “What the prince requires Of swift removal, seconds my desires. To want like mine the peopled town can yield More hopes of comfort than the lonely field: Nor fits my age to till the labour’d lands, Or stoop to tasks a rural lord demands. Adieu! but since this ragged garb can bear So ill the inclemencies of morning air, A few hours’ space permit me here to stay: My steps Eumaeus shall to town convey, With riper beams when Phœbus warms the day.” Thus he: nor aught Telemachus replied, But left the mansion with a lofty stride: Schemes of revenge his pondering breast elate, Revolving deep the suitors’ sudden fate, Arriving now before the imperial hall, He props his spear against the pillar’d wall; Then like a lion o’er the threshold bounds; The marble pavement with his steps resounds: His eye first glanced where Euryclea spreads With furry spoils of beasts the splendid beds: She saw, she wept, she ran with eager pace, And reach’d her master with a long embrace. All crowded round, the family appears With wild entrancement, and ecstatic tears. Swift from above descends the royal fair (Her beauteous cheeks the blush of Venus wear, Chasten’d with coy Diana’s pensive air); Hangs o’er her son, in his embraces dies; Rains kisses on his neck, his face, his eyes: Few words she spoke, though much she had to say; And scarce those few, for tears, could force their way.