That first deceiv’d his eyes; and all things show’d His country to him. Glad he stood with sight Of his lov’d soil, and kiss’d it with delight; And instantly to all the Nymphs he paid (With hands held up to heav’n) these vows, and said: “Ye Nymphs the Naiades, great Seed of Jove, I had conceit that never more should move Your sight in these spheres of my erring eyes, And therefore, in the fuller sacrifice Of my heart’s gratitude, rejoice, till more I pay your names in off’rings as before; Which here I vow, if Jove’s benign descent, The mighty Pillager, with life convent My person home, and to my sav’d decease Of my lov’d son’s sight add the sweet increase.” “Be confident,” said Pallas, “nor oppress Thy spirits with care of these performances, But these thy fortunes let us straight repose In this divine cave’s bosom, that may close Reserve their value; and we then may see How best to order other acts to thee.” Thus enter’d she the light-excluding cave, And through it sought some inmost nook to save The gold, the great brass, and robes richly-wrought, Giv’n to Ulysses. All which in he brought, Laid down in heap; and she impos’d a stone Close to the cavern’s mouth. Then sat they on The sacred olive’s root, consulting how To act th’ insulting Wooers’ overthrow; When Pallas said: “Examine now the means That best may lay hands on the impudence Of those proud Wooers, that have now three years Thy roof’s rule sway’d, and been bold offerers Of suit and gifts to thy renownéd wife, Who for thy absence all her desolate life Dissolves in tears till thy desir’d return; Yet all her Wooers, while she thus doth mourn, She holds in hope, and ev’ry one affords (In fore-sent message) promise; but her words Bear other utt’rance than her heart approves.” “O Gods,” said Ithacus, “it now behoves My fate to end me in the ill decease That Agamemnon underwent, unless You tell me, and in time; their close intents. Advise then means to the reveng’d events We both resolve on. Be thyself so kind To stand close to me, and but such a mind Breathe in my bosom, as when th’ Ilion tow’rs We tore in cinders. O if equal pow’rs Thou wouldst enflame amidst my nerves as then, I could encounter with three hundred men, Thy only self, great Goddess, had to friend, In those brave ardors thou wert wont t’ extend!” “I will be strongly with thee,” answer’d she, “Nor must thou fail, but do thy part with me. When both whose pow’rs combine, I hope the bloods And brains of some of these that waste thy goods Shall strew thy goodly pavements. Join we then: I first will render thee unknown to men, And on thy solid lineaments make dry Thy now smooth skin; thy bright-brown curls imply In hoary mattings; thy broad shoulders clothe In such a cloak as ev’ry eye shall lothe; Thy bright eyes blear and wrinkle; and so change Thy form at all parts, that thou shalt be strange To all the Wooers, thy young son, and wife. But to thy herdsman first present thy life, That guards thy swine, and wisheth well to thee,