And of what race you are, your father’s fame, And native city’s; ship and men unfold, That to this isle convey’d you, since I hold Your here arrival was not all by shore, Nor that your feet your agéd person bore.” He answer’d him: “I’ll tell all strictly true, If time, and food, and wine enough, accrue Within your roof to us, that freely we May sit and banquet. Let your business be Discharg’d by others; for, when all is done, I cannot easily, while the year doth run His circle round, run over all the woes, Beneath which, by the course the Gods dispose, My sad age labours. First, I’ll tell you then, From ample Crete I fetch my native strain; My father wealthy, whose house many a life Brought forth and bred besides by his true wife, But me a bond-maid bore, his concubine. Yet tender’d was I as his lawful line By him of whose race I my life profess. Castor his name, surnam’d Hylacides. A man, in fore-times, by the Cretan state, For goods, good children, and his fortunate Success in all acts, of no mean esteem. But death-conferring Fates have banish’d him To Pluto’s kingdom. After whom, his sons By lots divided his possessions, And gave me passing little; yet bestow’d A house on me, to which my virtues woo’d A wife from rich men’s roofs; nor was borne low, Nor last in fight, though all nerves fail me now. But I suppose, that you, by thus much seen, Know by the stubble what the corn hath been. For, past all doubt, affliction past all mean Hath brought my age on; but, in seasons past, Both Mars and Pallas have with boldness grac’d, And fortitude, my fortunes, when I chus’d Choice men for ambush, prest to have produc’d Ill to mine enemies; my too vent’rous spirit Set never death before mine eyes, for merit, But, far the first advanc’d still, still I strook Dead with my lance whoever overtook My speed of foot. Such was I then for war. But rustic actions ever fled me far, And household thrift, which breeds a famous race. In oar-driv’n ships did I my pleasures place, In battles, light darts, arrows. Sad things all, And into others’ thoughts with horror fall. But what God put into my mind, to me I still esteem’d as my felicity. As men of sev’ral metals are address’d, So sev’ral forms are in their souls impress’d. Before the sons of Greece set foot in Troy, Nine times, in chief, I did command enjoy Of men and ships against our foreign foe, And all I fitly wish’d succeeded so. Yet, after this, I much exploit achiev’d, When straight my house in all possessions thriv’d. Yet, after that, I great and rev’rend grew Amongst the Cretans, till the Thund’rer drew Our forces out in his foe-Troy decrees; A hateful service that dissolv’d the knees Of many a soldier. And to this was I, And famous Idomen, enjoin’d t’ apply Our ships and pow’rs, Nor was there to be heard One reason for denial, so preferr’d Was the unreasonable people’s rumour. Nine years we therefore fed the martial humour, And in the tenth, de-peopling Priam’s town, We sail’d for home.