“O Gods,” said he, “how certain, now, I see My house enjoys that friend’s son, that for me Hath undergone so many willing fights! Whom I resolv’d, past all the Grecian knights, To hold in love, if our return by seas The far-off Thunderer did ever please To grant our wishes. And to his respect A palace and a city to erect, My vow had bound me; whither bringing then His riches, and his son, and all his men, From barren Ithaca, (some one sole town Inhabited about him batter’d down) All should in Argos live. And there would I Ease him of rule, and take the empery Of all on me. And often here would we, Delighting, loving either’s company, Meet and converse; whom nothing should divide, Till death’s black veil did each all over hide. But this perhaps hath been a mean to take Ev’n God himself with envy; who did make Ulysses therefore only the unblest, That should not reach his loved country’s rest.” These woes made ev’ry one with woe in love; Ev’n Argive Helen wept, the Seed of Jove; Ulysses’ son wept; Atreus’ son did weep; And Nestor’s son his eyes in tears did steep, But his tears fell not from the present cloud That from Ulysses was exhal’d, but flow’d From brave Antilochus’ remember’d due, Whom the renown’d Son of the Morning slew, Which yet he thus excus’d: “O Atreus’ son! Old Nestor says, there lives not such a one Amongst all mortals as Atrides is For deathless wisdom. ’Tis a praise of his, Still giv’n in your remembrance, when at home Our speech concerns you. Since then overcome You please to be with sorrow, ev’n to tears, That are in wisdom so exempt from peers, Vouchsafe the like effect in me excuse, If it be lawful, I affect no use Of tears thus after meals; at least, at night; But when the morn brings forth, with tears, her light, It shall not then impair me to bestow My tears on any worthy’s overthrow. It is the only rite that wretched men Can do dead friends, to cut hair, and complain. But Death my brother took, whom none could call The Grecian coward, you best knew of all. I was not there, nor saw, but men report Antilochus excell’d the common sort For footmanship, or for the chariot race, Or in the fight for hardy hold of place.” “O friend,” said he, “since thou hast spoken so, At all parts as one wise should say and do, And like one far beyond thyself in years, Thy words shall bounds be to our former tears. O he is questionless a right-born son, That of his father hath not only won The person but the wisdom; and that sire Complete himself that hath a son entire, Jove did not only his full fate adorn, When he was wedded, but when he was born. As now Saturnius, through his life’s whole date, Hath Nestor’s bliss rais’d to as steep a state, Both in his age to keep in peace his house, And to have children wise and valorous. But let us not forget our rear feast thus. Let some give water here. Telemachus! The morning shall yield time to you and me To do what fits, and reason mutually.”