bone. Ulysses, striking with his burnished spear The boar’s right shoulder, drove the weapon through. He fell with piercing cries amid the dust, And the life left him. Then around their guest The kindly children of Autolycus Came and bound up with care the wound, and stanched With spells the dark blood of the blameless youth, And hastened with him to their father’s home. And when Autolycus and they his sons Had seen him wholly healed, they loaded him With presents, and, rejoicing for his sake, Sent him rejoicing back to Ithaca. His father and his gracious mother there Rejoiced in turn, and asked him of the scar, And how it came, and he related all— How by the white tusk of a savage boar The wound was given on the Parnassian heights, As he was hunting with her father’s sons.
The aged woman, as she took the foot Into her hands, perceived by touch the scar, And, letting fall the limb, it struck the vase. Loud rang the brass, the vase was overturned, And poured the water forth. At once a rush Of gladness and of grief came