Book XIX

golden, with two fastenings, and in front It showed a work of rare design⁠—a hound That held in his forepaws a spotted fawn, Struggling before his open mouth. Although The figures were of gold, we all admired The hound intent to break his victim’s neck, The fawn that, writhing, plied her nimble feet To free herself. Around the hero’s chest And waist I saw a lustrous tunic worn, Soft, like the thin film of the onion dried, And bright as sunshine; many ladies looked With wonder on it. Yet consider this; I know not whether thus attired he left His home, or whether, in the voyage thence, Some comrade gave the garments, or perhaps Some friendly host, for he was very dear To many; among the Greeks were few like him. I gave him, from myself, a brazen sword, And a fair purple cloak, a double web, Besides a tunic reaching to his feet, And with due honors sent him on his way In his good ship. There came and went with him A herald somewhat older than himself; Let me portray him⁠—hunchbacked, swarthy skinned, And curly haired, Eurybates his name. Ulysses honored him above the rest Of his companions, for they thought alike.”