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ancient Sire,And of Telemachus, whom I left at home;Possess I still unalienate and safeMy property, or hath some happier ChiefAdmittance free into my fortunes gain’d,    210 No hope subsisting more of my return?The mind and purpose of my wedded wifeDeclare thou also. Dwells she with our sonFaithful to my domestic interests,Or is she wedded to some Chief of Greece?   I ceas’d, when thus the venerable shade.Not so; she faithful still and patient dwellsThy roof beneath; but all her days and nightsDevoting sad to anguish and to tears.Thy fortunes still are thine; Telemachus    220 Cultivates, undisturb’d, thy land, and sitsAt many a noble banquet, such as wellBeseems the splendour of his princely state,For all invite him; at his farm retiredThy father dwells, nor to the city comes,For aught; nor bed, nor furniture of bed,Furr’d cloaks or splendid arras he enjoys,But, with his servile hinds all winter sleepsIn ashes and in dust at the hearth-side,Coarsely attired; again, when summer comes,    230 Or genial autumn, on the fallen leavesIn any nook, not curious where, he findsThere, stretch’d forlorn, nourishing grief, he weepsThy lot, enfeebled now by num’rous years.So perish’d I; such fate I also found;Me, neither the right-aiming arch’ress struck,Diana, with her gentle shafts, nor meDistemper slew, my limbs by slow degreesBut sure, bereaving of their little life,    240 But long regret, tender solicitude,And recollection of thy kindness past,These, my Ulysses! fatal proved to me.   She said; I, ardent wish’d to clasp the shadeOf my departed mother; thrice I sprangToward her, by desire impetuous urged,And thrice she flitted from between my arms,Light as a passing shadow or a dream.Then, pierced by keener grief, in accents wing’dWith filial earnestness I thus replied.    250   My mother, why elud’st thou my attemptTo clasp thee, that ev’n here, in Pluto’s realm,We might to full satiety indulgeOur grief, enfolded in each other’s arms?Hath Proserpine, alas! only dispatch’dA shadow to me, to augment my woe?   Then, instant, thus the venerable form.Ah, son! thou most afflicted of mankind!On thee, Jove’s daughter, Proserpine, obtrudesNo airy semblance vain; but such the state    260 And nature is of mortals once deceased.For they nor muscle have, nor flesh, nor bone;All those (the spirit from the body onceDivorced) the violence of fire consumes,And, like a dream, the soul flies swift away.But haste thou back to light, and, taught thyselfThese sacred truths, hereafter teach thy spouse.   Thus mutual we conferr’d. Then, thither came,Encouraged forth by royal Proserpine,Shades female num’rous, all who consorts, erst,    270 Or daughters were of mighty Chiefs renown’d.About the sable blood frequent they swarm’d.But I, consid’ring sat, how I might eachInterrogate, and thus resolv’d. My swordForth drawing from beside my sturdy thigh,Firm I prohibited the ghosts to drinkThe blood together; they successive came;Each told her own distress; I question’d all.   There, first, the high-born Tyro I beheld;She claim’d Salmoneus as her sire, and wife    280 Was once of Cretheus, son of Æolus.Enamour’d of Enipeus, stream divine,Loveliest of all that water earth, besideHis limpid current she was wont to stray,When Ocean’s God, (Enipeus’ form assumed)Within the eddy-whirling river’s mouthEmbraced her; there, while the o’er-arching flood,Uplifted mountainous, conceal’d the GodAnd his fair human bride, her virgin zoneHe loos’d, and o’er her eyes sweet sleep diffused.    290 His am’rous purpose satisfied, he grasp’dHer hand, affectionate, and thus he said.   Rejoice in this my love, and when the yearShall tend to consummation of its course,Thou shalt produce illustrious twins, for loveImmortal never is unfruitful love.Rear them with all a mother’s care; meantime,Hence to thy home. Be silent. Name it not.For I am Neptune, Shaker of the shores.   So saying, he