Page:The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (IA iliadodysseyofho02home).pdf/49

II. Guardian discrete of all the treasures there, Whom, thither call'd, Telemachus address'd. Nurse! draw me forth sweet wine into my jars, Delicious next to that which thou reserv'st For our poor wand'rer; if escaping death At last, divine Ulysses e'er return. Fill twelve, and stop them close; pour also meal Well mill'd (full twenty measures) into skins Close-seam'd, and mention what thou dost to none. Place them together; for at even-tide I will convey them hence, soon as the Queen, Retiring to her couch, shall seek repose. For hence to Sparta will I take my course, And sandy Pylus, tidings there to hear (If hear I may) of my lov'd Sire's return. He ceas'd, then wept his gentle nurse that sound Hearing, and in wing'd accents thus replied. My child! ah, wherefore hath a thought so rash Possess'd thee? whither, only and belov'd, Seek'st thou to ramble, travelling, alas! To distant climes? Ulysses is no more; Dead lies the Hero in some land unknown, And thou no sooner shalt depart, than these Will plot to slay thee, and divide thy wealth. No, stay with us who love thee. Need is none That thou should'st on the barren Deep distress Encounter, roaming without hope or end.