Page:The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (IA iliadodysseyofho02home).pdf/363

Book XV. To whom, Eumæus! at those words displeased, Thou didst reply. Gods! how could such a thought Possess thee, stranger? surely thy resolve Is altogether fixt to perish there, If thou indeed hast purposed with that throng To mix, whose riot and outrageous acts Of violence echo through the vault of heav'n. None, such as thou, serve them; their servitors Are youths well-cloak'd, well-vested; sleek their heads, And smug their countenances; such alone Are their attendants, and the polish'd boards Groan overcharg'd with bread, with flesh, with wine. Rest here content; for neither me nor these Thou weariest aught, and when Ulysses' son Shall come, he will with vest and mantle fair Cloath thee, and send thee whither most thou would'st. To whom Ulysses, toil-inured. I wish thee, O Eumæus! dear to Jove As thou art dear to me, for this reprieve Vouchsafed me kind, from wand'ring and from woe! No worse condition is of mortal man Than his who wanders; for the poor man, driv'n By woe and by misfortune homeless forth, A thousand mis'ries, day by day, endures. Since thou detain'st me, then, and bidd'st me wait His coming, tell me if the father still Of famed Ulysses live, whom, going hence, He left so nearly on the verge of life?