A Narrative of the Late Massacres – 15
Our Woods not void of Hospitality.
He said, and seconding the kind Request,
With friendly Step precedes the unknown Guest,
A shaggy Goat’s soft Hide beneath him spread.
And with fresh Rushes heap’d an ample Bed.
Joy touch! d the Hero’s tender Soul, to find
So just Reception from a Heart so kind:
And oh, ye Gods! with all your Blessings grace
(He thus broke forth) this Friend of human Race!
The Swain reply’d. It never was our guise
To slight the Poor, or aught humane despise.
For Jove unfolds the hospitable Door,
Tis Jove that sends the Stranger and the Poor.
These Heathen People thought, that after a Breach of the Rites of Hospitality, a Curse from Heaven would attend them in every thing they did, and even their honest Industry in their Callings would fail of Success.—Thus when Ulysses tells Eumaeus, who doubted the Truth of what he related. If I deceive you in this, I should deserve Death, and I consent that you shall put me to Death; Eumaeus rejects the Proposal, as what would be attended with both Infamy and Misfortune, saying ironically,
Doubtless, oh Guest! great Laud and Praise were mine.
If, after social Rites and Gifts bestow’d,
I stain’d my Hospitable Hearth with Blood.
How would the Gods my righteous Toils succeed.
And bless the Hand that made a Stranger bleed?
No more.—
Even an open Enemy, in the Heat of Battle, throwing down his Arms, submitting to his Foe,
