men-these two noble youths have room in their hearts to receive each other, for as yet they have known not love. Each is chaste as Hippolytus; and their bosoms glow with less selfish passions. Their life breathes a heroic innocence. On a carved couch, beneath the resounding porch, Telemachus lies down to sleep and near him Pisistratus. They keep conversing till midnight -and we could-though Homer has not recorded it-make a poem of their talk about heroes. The rosy-fingered morn sees Nestor sitting alone (probably in Monologue, for his tongue never tired) on the Seat of Justice before his gates of white polished, oil-glistening stone, (marble?) with his sceptre in his hand, and the finest beard in all Greece. Minerva had revealed herself the evening before, in the shape of an eagle-and to her he commands a solemn sacrifice. For hours his sons are busy in preparations-nor idlewe may well believe-nor far apart -those two illustrious boys. In the evening they are to set out in their chariot for Pheræ-Diocleus' Dome -one-third of the way perhaps to Lacedemon. But not till "Nestor's youngest daughter deign'd to lave and virgins. The bluest bend of heaven that ever hung the Ionian Isles and all their shadows among the soft confusion of water and of air-one grovey wilderness of upward-and-downward-growing trees, and miraculous temples-never was purer, "With its white families of happy clouds," than was the lofty arch of his spirit letting fall gentle light on the heads of the brave and beautiful-the mild and the lovely-and all the bright world-vision-like in its reality-in which youth breathes empyrean air and human life is invested with a grandeur of joy breathed from the heart of uncorrupted nature. Behold the Twain in " Lacedemon's hollow vale" before the gates of Menelaus' palace. How fortunate their arrival during the celebration of a double marriage! And such nuptials! Why, Hermione, graced with Aphrodite's charms,' leaves Lacedemon for "Phthia's glorious city," with chariots and with horses, to bless the bed of Neoptolemus, a son whose fame had transcended that of the most glorious And to Megapenthes, his son by a sire, had not that sire been Achilles. handmaid, for Helen had but one child almost as bright as herself, now the Phthian Queen, Menelaus was now giving for wife Alector's beauteous child, the flower of Sparta. The Twain draw up their smoking steeds in the palace porch-but read the scene in Sotheby, almost as alive as in Homer "While in his palace porch, great Nestor's son, And the Prince staid the steeds, their journey done, Them, Eteoneus, issuing forth, survey'd, And backward speeding, to Atrides said: "Lo! Jove-born Menelaus, at thy gate Two strangers, likest gods, thy word await : Shall we here loose their steeds, and claim their stay, Or to some roof more willing send away?" "Thou wert not once,' the indignant king replied, ⚫ Devoid of sense, untaught thy words to guide. Thou babblest like a child-from dome to dome We, hospitably feasted, reach'd our home: So Jove may henceforth guard us: loose the steed, VOL. XXXV. NO. CCXVII. B Oats and fine barley, in their manger threw, Then usher'd in the guests, who, wondering, gazed, With strange magnificence amazed their sight. And the warm flood had freed their limbs from toil, "Feast, and rejoice-when satiate keen desire, "Then deign'd himself their portion'd feast assign, The monarch's share, the bullock's roasted chine. "They richly feasted, and, the banquet o'er, When thirst and satiate hunger sought no more, Then, bow'd o'er Nestor's son, that none might hear, The Prince thus whisper'd in his listening ear: "Round this refulgent dome, my friend! behold What blaze of amber, ivory, silver, gold: Such Jove's Olympian hall 'mid realms of light, "His whisper'd wonder Menelaus heard, And to the admiring guests thus spake the word: Man may with me hold contest, or decline, To Ethiopia me, my vessel bore, The Erembi, Sidon, Lybia, where the horn A hospitable home with luxury fraught; With half its wealth, I would contented dwell, How oft beneath my roof I lone deplore The loss of those who here return no more: Now feed my soul with grief, and now at peace We always liked, but now we love Menelaus. That Helen should have left such a man for Paris! Brave as his own sword-bright in honour as his own shield-hospitable as his own board-strong as the tree at his own palace-gate-tender withal, as well as true-with a heart in his manly bosom overflowing with all kind affections-love, friendship, grief, pity-and yearning not towards kith and kin alone-but, as now, towards the sons of his old companions in arms, Nestor and Ulysses. For Nestor wore arms-but Menelaus knows not who the youths may be he loves them for their own noble sakes-and well one of them will ever after love the Great Spartan King, for having mourned so for Ulysses, and Laertes, and Penelope-and for him who now with both hands upholds before his face his purple robe, that it may hide his gushing tears. But where is Helen? CHRISTOPHER NORTH. LITERALLY. LINE FOR LINE WITH THE ORIGINAL. For her then did Adrasta place a beautifully-fabricated couch, Phylo carried a silver basket, which to her (Helen) gave Alcandra, the wife of Polybus, who dwelt in Thebes Of Egypt, where most-numerous possessions lie in-the-houses./ Who to Menelaus gave two silver baths. And two tripods, and ten talents of gold. Apart (from these) did his wife besides bestow on Helen beautiful gifts,— Of silver, but its lips were perfected of-gold. This then did the attendant Phylo bear and place before her, Completely-filled with elaborately-wrought thread; and over it Was extended the spindle having wool of-a-deep-violet-hue. (Helen on her reclining-couch sat down, and under her feet was a footstool, And forthwith she questioned her husband on all. SOTHEBY. While thus the Monarch paused with doubt o'ercast, Forth from her fragrant chamber Helen past, Like gold-bowed Dian; and Adraste came, The bearer of her throne's majestic frame; Her carpets' fine-wrought fleece Alcippe bore, Phylo her basket bright with silver ore, Gift of the wife of Polybus, who sway'd Where Thebes, the Egyptian Thebes, vast wealth display'd; To Atreus' son, departing from his land, And a bright silver basket, on whose round M. T. CHAPMAN. (TR. COL. CAM.) From her high-roof'd and fragrant chamber came, Helen her following, Adraste placed A well-made couch for her; Alcippe brought And silver basket, silvery circling round, But tipp'd with gold; which stuff'd with threads made fit To spin withal, Phylo her handmaid brought; The distaff was upon it, wrapt with wool Of violet colour. On her couch she sat, And on a cushion placed her dainty feet. : P GEORGE DRAKE. (KIRKTHORPE.) Whose upper rims with burnish'd gold were wrought: A distaff charg'd with wool of purple hue. 'Tis impossible to hate the traitress. Homer himself loved her-and so did Hector. In Troy we could not forgive her for the tears of the Fair Penitent were shed on the bosom of Paris. Alas! and a-lack-a-day! what could she do? For wicked Venus would shew her gratitude for the golden apple after her own wicked way; but Helen is again an honest woman-nay, start not at the homely words-for we have seen honest women beautiful as angels. Menelaus suspected from his weeping, at mention of Ulysses, that it was Telemachus; but Helen-whose beautiful eyes were always wide-awake -knew that it must be the son of the great-hearted Ulysses-from his wondrous likeness to the hero. Then the King-but not before-sees the likeness too-in feet, hands, head, hair, and eyes! Helen can still make him see-or not see-any thing; but for our parts, we now see nothing but her own radiant self, and since LITERALLY. she is yet alive, what matters it that Troy has ceased to be even a heap of ashes? Pisistratus declares it is no other than Telemachus. LINE FOR LINE WITH THE ORIGINAL. CHRISTOPHER NORTH. Him the auburn-(haired) Menelaus answering addressed: And him when he came, I said, that I would welcome conspicuously above all The Olympian, far-seeing Jupiter,-to take place in (our) swift ships. And I-should-have-caused-to-be-inhabited for him a city in Argos, and a palace should have built, Bringing him from Ithaca with his possessions and his son, And all his people, removing-the-inhabitants from one city, (Of those) which are-dwelled-in-around (me,) and are-ruled-over by myself. And having much intercourse here we should have mingled together, nor us two, Loving and pleased (with each other), should any thing have separated, Until the dark cloud of death had veiled-us-around. But-it-was-to-be that a God himself should-be-jealous-of these things, Taus he spoke; and among them all stirred-up a longing for lamentation. The Argive Helen born of Jove on the one hand wept, And on the other wept Telemachus, and Menelaus the-son-of- A treus. For he-called-to-mind, in his heart, the amiable Antilochus, น But weeping soon becomes cold, comfort-and "they to the good things lying before them ready their hands outstretched." Hungry and thirsty as they are after their long travel-scarcely can they either eat or drink for gazing upon Helen. Homer does not say so-but it was so-for there she sits, spinning like an enchantress-her white hands so lovely among the violet-coloured wool and her arms gracefully twirling the distaff till their eyes are dazzled with the light of lilies, and closed of their own accord, that they LITERALLY. LINE FOR LINE WITH THE ORIGINAL. Then truly did Helen born of Jove devise another (plan), CHRISTOPHER NORTH. For forthwith she mixed a drug in the wine of which they were drinking, (A drug) grief-assuaging and anger-dispelling, inducing-forgetfulness of all evi's. He who shall-have-swallowed-it-down, when-it-shall-have-been-mixed in the goblet, Shall not during-the-whole-day be pouring down his cheeks the tear, Not even if his father, and mother should have died, Not even if before him, his brother, or his beloved son, One should have cut off with the sword, and he looking on with his eyes. Such a drug skilfully-prepared had the daughter of Jove (Helen), Efficacious, which Polydamna the wife of Thon gave her (Polydamna) the Egyptian: in which (country) the all-beautiful soil produces most numerous Drugs, many of-good when mixed, and many destructive And (there) every physician is skilled beyond all Men for their descent is from Pæon. |