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"
Worn as I am with age, decay'd with woe;
Say, is it baseness to decline the foe?
Hard conflict! when calamity and age
With vigorous youth, unknown to cares, engage!
Yet, fearful of disgrace, to try the day
Imperious hunger bids, and I obey;
But swear, impartial arbiters of right,
Swear to stand neutral, while we cope in fight."
The peers assent: when straight his sacred head
Telemachus upraised, and sternly said:
"Stranger, if prompted to chastise the wrong
Of this bold insolent, confide, be strong!
The injurious Greek that dares attempt a blow,
That instant makes Telemachus his foe;
And these my friends shall guard the sacred ties
Of hospitality, for they are wise."
Then, girding his strong loins, the king prepares
To close in combat, and his body bares;
Broad spread his shoulders, and his nervous thighs
By just degrees, like well-turn'd columns, rise
Ample his chest, his arms are round and long,
And each strong joint Minerva knits more strong
(
Attendant on her chief): the suitor-crowd
With wonder gaze, and gazing speak aloud:
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