But, father, follow me, That, cheer’d with wine and food, you may disclose From whence you truly are, and all the woes Your age is subject to.” This said, he led Into his cottage, and of osiers spread A thicken’d hurdle, on whose top he strow’d A wild-goat’s shaggy skin, and then bestow’d His own couch on it, that was soft and great. Ulysses joy’d to see him so entreat His uncouth presence, saying: “Jove requite, And all th’ immortal Gods, with that delight Thou most desir’st, thy kind receipt of me, friend to human hospitality!” Eumæus answer’d: “Guest! If one much worse Arriv’d here than thyself, it were a curse To my poor means, to let a stranger taste Contempt for fit food. Poor men, and unplac’d In free seats of their own, are all from Jove Commended to our entertaining love. But poor is th’ entertainment I can give, Yet free and loving. Of such men as live The lives of servants, and are still in fear Where young lords govern, this is all the cheer They can afford a stranger. There was one That us’d to manage this now desert throne, To whom the Gods deny return, that show’d His curious favour to me, and bestow’d Possessions on me, a most-wishéd wife, A house, and portion, and a servant’s life, Fit for the gift a gracious king should give; Who still took pains himself, and God made thrive His personal endeavour, and to me His work the more increas’d, in which you see I now am conversant. And therefore much His hand had help’d me, had Heav’n’s will been such, He might have here grown old. But he is gone, And would to God the whole successión Of Helen might go with him, since for her So many men died, whose fate did confer My liege to Troy, in Agamemnon’s grace, To spoil her people, and her turrets race!” This said, his coat to him he straight did gird, And to his styes went that contain’d his herd; From whence he took out two, slew both, and cut Both fairly up; a fire enflam’d, and put To spit the joints; which roasted well, he set With spit and all to him, that he might eat From thence his food in all the singeing heat, Yet dredg’d it first with flour; then fill’d his cup With good sweet wine; sat then, and cheer’d him up “Eat now, my guest, such lean swine as are meat For us poor swains; the fat the Wooers eat, In whose minds no shame, no remorse, doth move, Though well they know the bless’d Gods do not love Ungodly actions, but respect the right, And in the works of pious men delight. But these are worse than impious, for those That vow t’ injustice, and profess them foes To other nations, enter on their land, And Jupiter (to show his punishing hand Upon th’ invaded, for their penance then) Gives favour to their foes, though wicked men, To make their prey on them; who, having freight Their ships with spoil enough, weigh anchor straight, And each man to his house; (and yet ev’n these, Doth pow’rful fear of God’s just vengeance seize Ev’n for that prize in which they so rejoice) But these men, knowing (having heard the voice