for old Laertes, when grim fate And death’s long sleep at last shall overtake The hero; else among the multitude Of Grecian women I shall bear the blame, If one whose ample wealth so well was known Should lie in death without a funeral robe.’ I spake, and easily their minds were swayed By what I said, and I began to weave The ample web, but ravelled it again By torchlight every evening. For three years I foiled them thus; but when the fourth year came, And brought its train of hours and changing moons, And many days had passed, they came on me, And through my maidens’ fault, a careless crew, They caught me at my fraud, and chid me
So, though unwilling, I was forced to end My task, and cannot longer now escape The marriage, nor is any refuge left. My parents both exhort me earnestly To choose a husband, and my son with grief Beholds the suitors wasting his estate, And he already is a man and well Can rule his household; Jupiter bestows so. Such honor on him. Now, I pray, declare Thy lineage, for thou surely art not sprung From the old fabulous oak, nor from a rock.”
Ulysses, the sagacious, answered her:
“O royal consort of Laertes’ son! Wilt thou still ask my lineage? I will then Disclose it, but thou wakest in my heart New sorrows. So it ever is with one Who long, like me, is far away from home, Wandering in many realms, and suffering much; But since thou dost require it, thou shalt hear.
“Crete is a region lying in the midst Of the black deep, a fair and fruitful land, Girt by the waters.