The watchful Argicide, who bade him fear 50
Alike, to slay the King, or woo the Queen.
For that Atrides' son Orestes, soon
As grown mature, and eager to assume
His sway imperial, should avenge the deed.
So Hermes spake, but his advice moved not 55
Ægisthus, on whose head the whole arrear
Of vengeance heap'd, at last, hath therefore fall'n.
Whom answer'd then Pallas cærulean-eyed.
Oh Jove, Saturnian Sire, o'er all supreme!
And well he merited the death he found; 60
So perish all, who shall, like him, offend.
But with a bosom anguish-rent I view
Ulysses, hapless Chief! who from his friends
Remote, affliction hath long time endured
In yonder wood-land isle, the central boss 65
Of Ocean. That retreat a Goddess holds,
Daughter of sapient Atlas, who the abyss
Knows to its bottom, and the pillars high
Himself upbears which sep'rate earth from heav'n.
His daughter, there, the sorrowing Chief detains, 70
And ever with smooth speech insidious seeks
To wean his heart from Ithaca; meantime
Ulysses, happy might he but behold
The smoke ascending from his native land,
Death covets. Canst thou not, Olympian Jove! 75
At last relent? Hath not Ulysses oft
With victims slain amid Achaia's fleet
Thee
