All treasure-laden to the brink, arrived.
And thou, young friend! from thy forsaken home
Rove not long time remote, thy treasures left
At mercy of those proud, lest they divide
And waste the whole, rend'ring thy voyage vain. 405
But hence to Menelaus is the course
To which I counsel thee; for he hath come
Of late from distant lands, whence to escape
No man could hope, whom tempests first had driv'n
Devious into so wide a sea, from which 410
Themselves the birds of heaven could not arrive
In a whole year, so vast is the expanse.
Go, then, with ship and shipmates, or if more
The land delight thee, steeds thou shalt not want
Nor chariot, and my sons shall be thy guides 415
To noble Lacedemon, the abode
Of Menelaus; ask from him the truth,
Who will not lye, for he is passing wise.
While thus he spake, the sun declined, and night
Approaching, blue-eyed Pallas interposed. 420
O antient King! well hast thou spoken all.
But now delay not. Cut[1] ye forth the tongues,
And mingle wine, that (Neptune first invoked
With due libation, and the other Gods)
We may repair to rest; for even now 425
- ↑ It is said to have been customary in the days of Homer, when the Greeks retired from a banquet to their beds, to cut out the tongues of the victims, and offer them to the Gods in particular who presided over conversation.
The
