Left my weeds with my men, because so cool I thought it could not prove; which thought my pride A little strengthen’d, being loth to hide A goodly glitt’ring garment I had on; And so I follow’d with my shield alone, And that brave weed. But when the night near ended Her course on earth, and that the stars descended, I jogg’d Ulysses, who lay passing near, And spake to him, that had a nimble ear, Assuring him, that long I could not lie Amongst the living, for the fervency Of that sharp night would kill me, since as then My evil angel made me with my men Leave all weeds but a fine one. But I know ’Tis vain to talk; here wants all remedy now. This said, he bore that understanding part In his prompt spirit that still show’d his art In fight and counsel, saying (in a word, And that low whisper’d) peace, lest you afford Some Greek note of your softness. No word more, But made as if his stern austerity bore My plight no pity; yet, as still he lay His head reposing on his hand, gave way To this invention: ‘Hear me friends, a dream (That was of some celestial light a beam) Stood in my sleep before me, prompting me With this fit notice: ‘We are far,’ said he, ‘From out our fleet. Let one go then, and try If Agamemnon will afford supply To what we now are strong.’ This stirr’d a speed In Thoas to th’ affair; whose purple weed He left for haste; which then I took, and lay In quiet after, till the dawn of day. This shift Ulysses made for one in need, And would to heav’n, that youth such spirit did feed Now in my nerves, and that my joints were knit With such a strength as made me then held fit To lead men with Ulysses! I should then Seem worth a weed that fits a herdsman’s men, For two respects, to gain a thankful friend, And to a good man’s need a good extend.” “O father,” said Eumæus “thou hast shown Good cause for us to give thee good renown, Not using any word that was not freed From all least ill. Thou, therefore, shalt not need Or coat, or other thing, that aptly may Beseem a wretched suppliant for defray Of this night’s need. But, when her golden throne The morn ascends, you must resume your own, For here you must not dream of many weeds, Or any change at all. We serve our needs As you do yours; one back, one coat. But when Ulysses’ lovéd son returns, he then Shall give you coat and cassock, and bestow Your person where your heart and soul is now,” This said, he rose, made near the fire his bed, Which all with goats’ and sheep skins he bespread. All which Ulysses with himself did line, With whom; besides, he chang’d a gaberdine, Thick lin’d, and soft, which still he made his shift When he would dress him ’gainst the horrid drift Of tempest, when deep winter’s season blows. Nor pleas’d it him to lie there with his sows, But while Ulysses slept there, and close by The other younkers, he abroad would lie, And therefore arm’d him. Which set cheerful fare Before Ulysses’ heart, to see such care Of his goods taken, how far off soever