In th’ isle Ogygia, that ’tis our will She should not stay our lov’d Ulysses still, But suffer his return; and then will I To Ithaca, to make his son apply His sire’s inquest the more; infusing force Into his soul, to summon the concourse Of curl’d-head Greeks to council, and deter Each wooer, that hath been the slaughterer Of his fat sheep and crooked-headed beeves. From more wrong to his mother, and their leaves Take in such terms as fit deserts so great. To Sparta then, and Pylos, where doth beat Bright Amathus, the flood, and epithet To all that kingdom, my advice shall send The spirit-advanc’d Prince, to the pious end Of seeking his lost father, if he may Receive report from Fame where rests his stay; And make, besides, his own successive worth Known to the world, and set in action forth.” This said, her wing’d shoes to her feet she tied, Form’d all of gold, and all eternified, That on the round earth or the sea sustain’d Her ravish’d substance swift as gusts of wind. Then took she her strong lance with steel made keen, Great, massy, active, that whole hosts of men, Though all heroës, conquers, if her ire Their wrongs inflame, back’d by so great a Sire. Down from Olympus’ tops she headlong div’d, And swift as thought in Ithaca arriv’d, Close at Ulysses’ gates; in whose first court She made her stand, and, for her breast’s support, Lean’d on her iron lance; her form imprest With Mentas’ likeness, come as being a guest. There found she those proud wooers, that were then Set on those ox-hides that themselves had slain, Before the gates, and all at dice were playing. To them the heralds, and the rest obeying, Fill’d wine and water; some, still as they play’d, And some, for solemn supper’s state, purvey’d, With porous sponges cleansing tables, serv’d With much rich feast; of which to all they kerv’d. God-like Telemachus amongst them sat, Griev’d much in mind; and in his heart begat All representment of his absent sire, How, come from far-off parts, his spirits would fire With those proud wooers’ sight, with slaughter parting Their bold concourse, and to himself converting The honours they usurp’d, his own commanding. In this discourse, he first saw Pallas standing, Unbidden entry; up rose, and addrest His pace right to her, angry that a guest Should stand so long at gate; and, coming near, Her right hand took, took in his own her spear, And thus saluted: “Grace to your repair, Fair guest, your welcome shall be likewise fair. Enter, and, cheer’d with feast, disclose th’ intent That caus’d your coming.” This said, first he went, And Pallas follow’d. To a room they came, Steep, and of state; the jav’lin of the Dame He set against a pillar vast and high, Amidst a large and bright-kept armory, Which was, besides, with woods of lances grac’d Of his grave father’s. In a throne he plac’d The man-turn’d Goddess, under which was spread A carpet, rich and of deviceful thread; A footstool staying her feet; and by her chair