Beneath thy yoke, and I will be thy guide To many a city, whence we shall not go Ungratified, but shall in each receive Some gift at least, tripod, or charger bright, 100 Or golden chalice, or a pair of mules. To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied. Atrides, Menelaus, Chief renown'd! I would at once depart, (for guardian none Of my possessions have I left behind) Lest, while I seek my father, I be lost Myself, or lose what I should grudge to spare. Which when the valiant Menelaus heard, He bade his spouse and maidens spread the board At once with remnants of the last regale. 110 Then Eteoneus came, Boetheus' son Newly aris'n, for nigh at hand he dwelt, Whom Menelaus bade kindle the fire By which to dress their food, and he obey'd. He next, himself his fragrant chamber sought, Not sole, but by his spouse and by his son Attended, Megapenthes. There arrived Where all his treasures lay, Atrides, first, Took forth, himself, a goblet, then consign'd To his son's hand an argent beaker bright. 120 Meantime, beside her coffers Helen stood Where lay her variegated robes, fair works Of her own hand. Producing one, in size And in magnificence the chief, a star For splendour, and the lowest placed of all, Loveliest of her sex, she bore it thence. Then, all proceeding through the house, they sought Telemachus again, whom reaching, thus The Hero of the golden locks began. May Jove the Thunderer, dread Juno's mate, 130 Grant thee, Telemachus! such voyage home As thy own heart desires! accept from all My stores selected as the richest far And noblest gift for finish'd beauty--This. I give thee wrought elaborate a cup, Itself all silver, bound with lip of gold. It is the work of Vulcan, which to me The Hero Phædimus imparted, King Of the Sidonians, when, on my return, Beneath his roof I lodg'd. I make it thine. 140 So saying, the Hero, Atreus' son, the cup Placed in his hands, and Megapenthes set Before him, next, the argent beaker bright; But lovely Helen drawing nigh, the robe Presented to him, whom she thus address'd. I also give thee, oh my son, a gift, Which seeing, thou shalt think on her whose hands Wrought it; a present on thy nuptial day For thy fair spouse; meantime, repose it safe In thy own mother's keeping. Now, farewell! 150 Prosp'rous and happy be thy voyage home! She ceas'd, and gave it to him, who the gift Accepted glad, and in the chariot-chest Pisistratus the Hero all disposed, Admiring them the while. They, following, next, The Hero Menelaus to his hall Each on his couch or on his throne reposed. A maiden, then, with golden ewer charged