Since thou wast infant, and from tricks of speech 350 Delusive, even in thy native land? But come, dismiss we these ingenious shifts From our discourse, in which we both excel; For thou of all men in expedients most Abound'st and eloquence, and I, throughout All heav'n have praise for wisdom and for art. And know'st thou not thine Athenæan aid, Pallas, Jove's daughter, who in all thy toils Assist thee and defend? I gave thee pow'r T' engage the hearts of all Phæacia's sons, 360 And here arrive ev'n now, counsels to frame Discrete with thee, and to conceal the stores Giv'n to thee by the rich Phæacian Chiefs On my suggestion, at thy going thence. I will inform thee also what distress And hardship under thy own palace-roof Thou must endure; which, since constraint enjoins, Bear patiently, and neither man apprize Nor woman that thou hast arrived forlorn And vagabond, but silent undergo 370 What wrongs soever from the hands of men. To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied. O Goddess! thou art able to elude, Wherever met, the keenest eye of man, For thou all shapes assum'st; yet this I know Certainly, that I ever found thee kind, Long as Achaia's Heroes fought at Troy; But when (the lofty tow'rs of Priam laid In dust) we re-embark'd, and by the will Of heav'n Achaia's fleet was scatter'd wide, 380 Thenceforth, O daughter wise of Jove, I thee Saw not, nor thy appearance in my ship Once mark'd, to rid me of my num'rous woes, But always bearing in my breast a heart With anguish riv'n, I roam'd, till by the Gods Relieved at length, and till with gracious words Thyself didst in Phæacia's opulent land Confirm my courage, and becam'st my guide. But I adjure thee in thy father's name-- O tell me truly, (for I cannot hope 390 That I have reach'd fair Ithaca; I tread Some other soil, and thou affirm'st it mine To mock me merely, and deceive) oh say-- Am I in Ithaca? in truth, at home? Thus then Minerva the cærulean-eyed. Such caution in thy breast always prevails Distrustful; but I know thee eloquent, With wisdom and with ready thought endued, And cannot leave thee, therefore, thus distress'd For what man, save Ulysses, new-return'd 400 After long wand'rings, would not pant to see At once his home, his children, and his wife? But thou preferr'st neither to know nor ask Concerning them, till some experience first Thou make of her whose wasted youth is spent In barren solitude, and who in tears Ceaseless her nights and woeful days consumes. I ne'er was ignorant, but well foreknew That not till after loss of all thy friends