1Tell me, O Muse, of the man of many devices, who wandered very many ways after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy. Many were the men whose cities he saw and whose mind he learned, yes, and many the woes he suffered in his heart upon the sea, 5 seeking to win his own life and the return of his comrades. Yet even so he did not save his comrades, though he desired it greatly, for through their own blind folly they perished—fools, who devoured the cattle of Helios Hyperion; but he took from them the day of their returning. 10 Of these things, goddess, daughter of Zeus, beginning where you will, tell us as well. Now all the rest, as many as had escaped sheer destruction, were at home, safe from both war and sea, but Odysseus alone, filled with longing for his return and for his wife, did the queenly nymph Calypso, that bright goddess, 15 keep back in her hollow caves, yearning that he should be her husband. But when, as the seasons revolved, the year came in which the gods had ordained that he should return home to Ithaca, not even there was he free from toils, even among his own folk. And all the gods pitied him 20 save Poseidon; but he continued to rage unceasingly against godlike Odysseus until at length he reached his own land. But Poseidon had gone among the far-off Ethiopians—the Ethiopians who dwell divided in two, the farthermost of men, some where Hyperion sets and some where he rises, 25 there to receive a hecatomb of bulls and rams, and there he was taking his joy, sitting at the feast; but the other gods were gathered together in the halls of Olympian Zeus. Among them the father of gods and men was first to speak, for in his heart he thought of noble Aegisthus, 30 whom far-famed Orestes, Agamemnon's son, had slain. Thinking on him he spoke among the immortals, and said: “Look now, how ready mortals are to blame the gods. It is from us, they say, that evils come, but they even of themselves, through their own blind folly, have sorrows beyond that which is ordained. 35 Even as now Aegisthus, beyond that which was ordained, took to himself the wedded wife of the son of Atreus, and slew him on his return, though well he knew of sheer destruction, seeing that we spoke to him before, sending Hermes, the keen-sighted Argeiphontes, that he should neither slay the man nor woo his wife; 40 for from Orestes shall come vengeance for the son of Atreus when once he has come to manhood and longs for his own land. So Hermes spoke, but for all his good intent he did not prevail upon the heart of Aegisthus; and now he has paid the full price of all.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: 45 “Father of us all, you son of Cronos, high above all lords, yes, truly that man lies low in a destruction that is his due; so, too, may any other also be destroyed who does such deeds. But my heart is torn for wise Odysseus, hapless man, who far from his friends has long been suffering woes[1] 50 in a sea-girt isle, where is the navel of the sea. It is a wooded isle, and in it dwells a goddess, daughter of Atlas of baneful mind, who knows the depths of every sea, and himself holds the tall pillars which keep earth and heaven apart. 55 His daughter it is that keeps back that wretched, sorrowing man; and always with soft and wheedling words she beguiles him that he may forget Ithaca. But Odysseus, in his longing to see were it but the smoke leaping up from his own land, yearns to die. Yet your 60 heart does not regard it, Olympian. Did not Odysseus beside the ships of the Argives offer you sacrifice without stint in the broad land of Troy? Why then did you conceive such wrath against him, O Zeus?” Then Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, answered her and said: “My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth? 65 How should I, then, forget godlike Odysseus, who is beyond all mortals in wisdom, and beyond all has paid sacrifice to the immortal gods, who hold broad heaven? No, it is Poseidon, the earth-enfolder, who is always filled with stubborn wrath because of the Cyclops, whom Odysseus blinded of his eye— 70 even the godlike Polyphemus, whose might is greatest among all the Cyclopes; and the nymph Thoosa bore him, daughter of Phorcys who rules over the unresting sea; for in the hollow caves she lay with Poseidon. From that time forth Poseidon, the earth-shaker, 75 does not indeed slay Odysseus, but makes him a wanderer from his native land. But come, let us who are here all take thought of his return, that he may come home; and Poseidon will let go his anger, for he will in no way be able, against all the immortal gods and in spite of them, to contend alone.” 80 Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: “Father of us all, you son of Cronos, high above all lords, if indeed this is now well pleasing to the blessed gods, that the wise Odysseus should return to his own home, let us send forth Hermes, the messenger, Argeiphontes, 85 to the isle Ogygia, that with all speed he may declare to the fair-tressed nymph our fixed resolve, even the return of Odysseus of the steadfast heart, that he may come home. But, as for me, I will go to Ithaca, that I may the more arouse his son, and set courage in his heart 90 to call to an assembly the long-haired Achaeans, and speak out his word to all the suitors, who are always slaying his thronging sheep and his sleek cattle of shambling gait. And I will guide him to Sparta and to sandy Pylos, to seek tidings of the return of his dear father, if perhaps he may hear of it, 95 that good report may be his among men.” So she spoke, and bound beneath her feet her beautiful sandals, immortal, golden, which used to bear her both over the waters of the sea and over the boundless land swift as the blasts of the wind. And she took her mighty spear, tipped with sharp bronze, 100 heavy and huge and strong, with which she vanquishes the ranks of men—of warriors, with whom she is angry, she, the daughter of the mighty sire. Then she went darting down from the heights of Olympus, and took her stand in the land of Ithaca at the outer gate of Odysseus, on the threshold of the court. In her hand she held the spear of bronze, 105 and she was in the likeness of a stranger, Mentes, the leader of the Taphians. There she found the proud suitors. They were taking their pleasure at draughts in front of the doors, sitting on the hides of oxen which they themselves had slain; and of the heralds and busy squires, 110 some were mixing wine and water for them in bowls, others again were washing the tables with porous sponges and setting them out, while still others were portioning out meat in abundance. Her the godlike Telemachus was far the first to see, for he was sitting among the suitors, sad at heart, 115 seeing in thought his noble father, should he perhaps come from somewhere and make a scattering of the suitors in the palace, and himself win honor and rule over his own house. As he thought of these things, sitting among the suitors, he beheld Athena, and he went straight to the outer door; for in his heart he counted it a shame 120 that a stranger should stand long at the gates. So, drawing near, he clasped her right hand, and took from her the spear of bronze; and he spoke, and addressed her with winged words: “Hail, stranger; in our house you shall find entertainment and then, when you have tasted food, you shall tell of what you need.” 125 So saying, he led the way, and Pallas Athena followed. And when they were within the lofty house, he bore the spear and set it against a tall pillar in a polished spear-rack, where were set many spears besides, even those of Odysseus of the steadfast heart. 130 Athena herself he led and seated on a chair, spreading a linen cloth beneath—a beautiful chair, richly-wrought, and below was a footstool for the feet. Beside it he placed for himself an inlaid seat, apart from the others, the suitors, lest the stranger, vexed by their din, should loathe the meal, seeing that he was in the company of overweening men; 135 and also that he might ask him about his father that was gone. Then a handmaid brought water for the hands in a fair pitcher of gold, and poured it over a silver basin for them to wash, and beside them drew up a polished table. And the grave housekeeper brought and set before them bread, 140 and with it delicacies in abundance, giving freely of her store. And a carver lifted up and placed before them platters of all kinds of meat, and set by them golden goblets, while a herald constantly walked to and fro pouring them wine. Then in came the proud suitors, and after that 145 sat down in rows on chairs and high seats. Heralds poured water over their hands, and maid-servants heaped by them bread in baskets, and youths filled the bowls brim full of drink; and they put out their hands to the good cheer lying ready before them. 150 Now after the suitors had put from them the desire of food and drink, their hearts turned to other things, to song and to dance; for these things are the crown of a feast. And a herald put the beautiful lyre in the hands of Phemius, who sang under compulsion among the suitors; 155 and he struck the chords in prelude to his sweet lay. But Telemachus spoke to flashing-eyed Athena, holding his head close, that the others might not hear: “Dear stranger, will you be angry with me for the word that I shall say? These men care for things like these, the lyre and song, 160 very easily, seeing that without atonement they devour the livelihood of another, of a man whose white bones, it may be, rot in the rain as they lie upon the mainland, or the wave rolls them in the sea. Were they to see him returned to Ithaca, they would all pray to be swifter of foot, 165 rather than richer in gold and in clothing. But now he has thus perished by an evil doom, nor for us is there any comfort, no, not though any one of men upon the earth should say that he will come; gone is the day of his returning. But come, tell me this, and declare it truly. 170 Who are you among men, and from where? Where is your city and where your parents? On what kind of ship did you come, and how did sailors bring you to Ithaca? Who did they declare themselves to be? For in no way, I think, did you come here on foot. And tell me this also truly, that I may know very well, 175 whether this is your first coming here, or whether you are indeed a friend of my father's house. For many were the men who came to our house as strangers, since he, too, had gone to and fro among men.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: “Therefore in truth I will frankly tell you all. 180 I declare that I am Mentes, the son of wise Anchialus, and I am lord over the oar-loving Taphians. And now I have put in here, as you see, with ship and crew, while sailing over the wine-dark sea to men of strange speech, on my way to Temese for copper; and I bear with me shining iron. 185 My ship lies over there beside the fields away from the city, in the harbor of Rheithron, under woody Neion. Friends of one another we declare ourselves to be, even as our fathers were, friends from of old. Indeed, if you will, go and ask the old warrior Laertes, who, they say, 190 comes no more to the city, but far off in the fields suffers woes attended by an aged woman as his handmaid, who sets before him food and drink, after weariness has laid hold of his limbs, as he creeps along the slope of his vineyard plot. And now I have come, for in truth men said that he, 195 your father, was among his people; but see, the gods are thwarting him of his return. For not yet has goodly Odysseus perished on the earth, but still, I think, he lives and is held back on the broad sea in a sea-girt isle, and cruel men keep him, a savage folk, that constrain him, perhaps much against his will. 200 Indeed, I will now prophesy to you, as the immortals put it in my heart, and as I think it shall be brought to pass, though I am in no way a soothsayer, nor one versed in the signs of birds. Not much longer shall he be absent from his dear native land, no, not though bonds of iron hold him. 205 He will contrive a way to return, for he is a man of many devices. But come, tell me this and declare it truly, whether indeed, tall as you are, you are the son of Odysseus himself. Wondrously like his are your head and beautiful eyes; for very often did we consort with one another 210 before he embarked for the land of Troy, where others, too, the bravest of the Argives, went in their hollow ships. But since that day neither have I seen Odysseus, nor he me.” Then wise Telemachus answered her: “Therefore in truth, stranger, I will frankly tell you all. 215 My mother says that I am his child; but I do not know, for never yet did any man of himself know his own parentage. Ah, would that I had been the son of some blessed man, whom old age overtook among his own possessions. But now of him who was the most ill-fated of mortal men 220 they say that I am sprung, since you ask me of this.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: “Surely, then, no nameless lineage have the gods appointed for you in time to come, seeing that Penelope bore you such as you are. But come, tell me this and declare it truly. 225 What feast, what throng is this? What need have you of it? Is it a drinking bout, or a wedding feast? For this plainly is no meal to which each brings his portion, with such outrage and overweening do they seem to me to be feasting in your halls. Angered would a man be at seeing all these shameful acts, any man of sense who should come among them.” 230 Then wise Telemachus answered her: “Stranger, since indeed you ask and question me of this, our house once seemed likely to be rich and honorable, so long as that man was still among his people. But now the gods have willed otherwise in their evil devising, 235 seeing that they have caused him to pass from sight as they have no other man. For I should not so grieve for his death, if he had been slain among his comrades in the land of the Trojans, or had died in the arms of his friends, when he had wound up the skein of war. Then would the whole host of the Achaeans have made him a tomb, 240 and for his son, too, he would have won great glory in days to come. But as it is, the spirits of the storm have swept him away and left no tidings: he is gone out of sight, out of hearing, and for me he has left anguish and weeping; nor do I in any way mourn and wail for him alone, seeing that the gods have brought upon me other grievous troubles. 245 For all the princes who hold sway over the islands—Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus—and those who lord it over rocky Ithaca, all these woo my mother and lay waste my house. And she neither refuses the hateful marriage, 250 nor is she able to make an end; but they with feasting consume my substance: before long they will bring me, too, to ruin.” Then, stirred to anger, Pallas Athena spoke to him: “Alas! You have in truth great need of Odysseus who is gone, that he might put forth his hands upon the shameless suitors. 255 Would that he might come now and take his stand at the outer gate of the house, with helmet and shield and two spears, such a man as he was when I first saw him in our house drinking and making merry, on his way back from Ephyre, from the house of Ilus, son of Mermerus. 260 For there, too, went Odysseus in his swift ship in search of a deadly drug, that he might have something with which to smear his bronze-tipped arrows; yet Ilus did not give it to him, for he stood in awe of the gods that are forever; but my father gave it, for he held him strangely dear. 265 Would, I say, that in such strength Odysseus might come among the suitors; then would they all find swift destruction and bitterness in their wooing. Yet these things truly lie on the knees of the gods, whether he shall return and wreak vengeance in his halls, or whether he shall not; but for yourself, I urge you to take thought 270 how you may thrust out the suitors from the hall. Come now, give ear, and listen to my words. Tomorrow call to an assembly the Achaean lords, and speak out your word to all, and let the gods be your witnesses. As for the suitors, order them to scatter, each to his own; 275 and for your mother, if her heart urges her to marry, let her go back to the hall of her mighty father, and there they will prepare a wedding feast, and make ready the gifts, very many—yes, all that should follow after a well-loved daughter. And to you I will give wise counsel, if you will listen. 280 Man with twenty rowers the best ship you have, and go to seek tidings of your father, who has long been gone, if perhaps any mortal may tell you, or you may hear a voice from Zeus, which most often brings tidings to men. First go to Pylos and question goodly Nestor, 285 and from there to Sparta to fair-haired Menelaus; for he was the last to reach home of the brazen-coated Achaeans. If you should hear that your father is alive and coming home, then truly, though you are greatly afflicted, you could endure for a year more. But if you should hear that he is dead and gone, 290 then return to your dear native land and heap up a mound for him, and over it pay funeral rites, very many as is due, and give your mother to a husband. Then when you have done all this and brought it to an end, after that take thought in mind and heart 295 how you may slay the suitors in your halls whether by guile or openly; for it does not befit you to practise childish ways, since you are no longer of such an age. Or have you not heard what fame the goodly Orestes won among all mankind when he slew his father's murderer, 300 the guileful Aegisthus, because he slew his glorious father? You too, my friend, for I see that you are handsome and tall, be valiant, that many a one of men yet to be born may praise you. But now I will go down to my swift ship and my comrades, who, I think, are chafing much at waiting for me. 305 For yourself, give heed and have regard to my words.” Then wise Telemachus answered her: “Stranger, in truth you speak these things with kindly thought, as a father to his son, and never will I forget them. But come now, stay a while, eager though you are to be gone, 310 in order that when you have bathed and satisfied your heart to the full, you may go to your ship glad in spirit, and bearing a gift costly and very beautiful, which shall be to you an heirloom from me, such a gift as dear friends give to friends.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: 315 “Do not keep me now any longer, when I am eager to be gone, and whatever gift your heart urges you to give me, give it when I come back, to bear to my home, choosing a truly beautiful one; it shall bring you its worth in return.” So spoke the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, and departed, 320 flying upward as a bird; and in his heart she put strength and courage, and made him think of his father even more than before. And in his mind he noticed her and marvelled, for he deemed that she was a god; and at once he went among the suitors, a godlike man. 325 For them the famous minstrel was singing, and they sat in silence listening; and he sang of the return of the Achaeans—the woeful return from Troy which Pallas Athena laid upon them. And from her upper chamber the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, heard his wondrous song, 330 and she went down the high stairway from her chamber, not alone, for two handmaids attended her. Now when the fair lady had come to the suitors, she stood by the door-post of the well-built hall, holding before her face her shining veil; 335 and a faithful handmaid stood on either side of her. Then she burst into tears, and spoke to the divine minstrel: “Phemius, many other things you know to charm mortals, deeds of men and gods which minstrels make famous. Sing them one of these, as you sit here, 340 and let them drink their wine in silence. But cease from this woeful song which always harrows the heart in my breast, for upon me above all women has come a sorrow not to be forgotten. So dear a head do I always remember with longing, even my husband, whose fame is wide through Hellas and mid-Argos.” 345 Then wise Telemachus answered her: “My mother, why do you begrudge the good minstrel to give pleasure in whatever way his heart is moved? It is not minstrels that are to blame, but Zeus, I think, is to blame, who gives to men that live by toil, to each one as he will. 350 With this man no one can be angry if he sings of the evil doom of the Danaans; for men praise that song the most which comes the newest to their ears. For yourself, let your heart and soul endure to listen; for not Odysseus alone lost 355 in Troy the day of his return, but many others likewise perished. No, go to your chamber, and busy yourself with your own tasks, the loom and the distaff, and order your handmaids to ply their tasks; but speech shall be for men, for all, but most of all for me; since mine is the authority in the house.” 360 She then, seized with wonder, went back to her chamber, for she laid to heart the wise saying of her son. Up to her upper chamber she went with her handmaids, and then bewailed Odysseus, her dear husband until flashing-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids. 365 But the suitors broke into uproar throughout the shadowy halls, and all prayed, each that he might lie by her side. And among them wise Telemachus was the first to speak: “Suitors of my mother, overweening in your insolence, for the present let us make merry with feasting, 370 but let there be no brawling; for this is a fine thing, to listen to a minstrel such as this man is, like the gods in voice. But in the morning let us go to the assembly and take our seats, one and all, that I may declare my word to you outright that you depart from these halls. Prepare other feasts, 375 eating your own substance and changing from house to house. But if this seems in your eyes to be a better and more profitable thing, that one man's livelihood should be ruined without atonement, waste it. But I will call upon the gods that are forever, if perhaps Zeus may grant that deeds of requital may be wrought. 380 Without atonement, then, should you perish within my halls.” So he spoke, and they all bit their lips and marvelled at Telemachus, because he spoke boldly. Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him: “Telemachus, truly the gods themselves are teaching you 385 to be a man of vaunting tongue, and to speak with boldness. May the son of Cronos never make you king in sea-girt Ithaca, which thing is by birth your heritage.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Antinous, will you be angry with me for the word that I shall say? 390 Even this should I be glad to accept from the hand of Zeus. Do you think indeed that this is the worst fate among men? No, it is no bad thing to be a king. At once one's house grows rich and oneself is held in greater honor. However, there are other kings of the Achaeans 395 very many in seagirt Ithaca, both young and old. One of these perhaps may have this place, since goodly Odysseus is dead. But I will be lord of our own house and of the slaves that goodly Odysseus won for me.” Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him: 400 “Telemachus, this matter truly lies on the knees of the gods, who of the Achaeans shall be king in sea-girt Ithaca; but as for your possessions, you may keep them yourself, and be lord in your own house. Never may that man come who by violence and against your will shall wrest your possessions from you, while men yet live in Ithaca. 405 But I am eager, good sir, to ask you about the stranger, where this man comes from. Of what land does he declare himself to be? Where are his kinsmen and his native fields? Does he bring some tidings of your father's coming, or did he come here in furtherance of some matter of his own? 410 How he started up, and was at once gone! Nor did he wait to be known; and yet he seemed no base man to look upon.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Eurymachus, surely my father's home-coming is lost and gone. No longer do I put trust in tidings, from wherever they may come, 415 nor do I heed any prophecy which my mother perhaps may learn from a prophet, when she has called him to the hall. But this stranger is a friend of my father's house from Taphos. He declares that he is Mentes, son of wise Anchialus, and he is lord over the oar-loving Taphians.” 420 So spoke Telemachus, but in his heart he knew the immortal goddess. Now the suitors turned to the dance and to gladsome song, and made merry, and waited till evening should come; and as they made merry dark evening came upon them. Then they went, each man to his house, to take their rest. 425 But Telemachus, where his chamber was built in the beautiful court, high, in a place of wide outlook, there went to his bed, pondering many things in mind; and with him, bearing blazing torches, went true-hearted Eurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor. 430 Her long ago Laertes had bought with his wealth, when she was in her first youth, and gave for her the price of twenty oxen; and he honored her even as he honored his faithful wife in his halls, but he never lay with her in love, for he shunned the wrath of his wife. She it was who bore for Telemachus the blazing torches; 435 for she of all the handmaids loved him most, and had nursed him when he was a child. He opened the doors of the well-built chamber, sat down on the bed, and took off his soft tunic and laid it in the wise old woman's hands. And she folded and smoothed the tunic 440 and hung it on a peg beside the corded bedstead, and then went out from the chamber, drawing the door to by its silver handle, and driving the bolt home with the thong. So there, the night through, wrapped in a fleece of wool, he pondered in his mind upon the journey which Athena had shown him.
2As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, up from his bed arose the dear son of Odysseus and put on his clothing. About his shoulder he slung his sharp sword, and beneath his shining feet bound his fair sandals, 5 and went forth from his chamber like a god to look upon. At once he told the clear-voiced heralds to summon to the assembly the long-haired Achaeans. And the heralds made the summons, and the Achaeans assembled very quickly. Now when they were assembled and met together, 10 Telemachus went his way to the place of assembly, holding in his hand a spear of bronze—not alone, for along with him two swift hounds followed; and wondrous was the grace that Athena shed upon him, and all the people marvelled at him as he came. But he sat down in his father's seat, and the elders gave place. 15 Then among them the lord Aegyptius was the first to speak, a man bowed with age and wise with wisdom untold. Now he spoke, because his dear son had gone in the hollow ships to Ilius, famed for its horses, in the company of godlike Odysseus, the warrior Antiphus. But him the savage Cyclops had slain 20 in his hollow cave, and made of him his latest meal. Three others there were; one, Eurynomus, consorted with the suitors, and two always kept their father's farm. Yet, even so, he could not forget that other, mourning and sorrowing; and weeping for him he addressed the assembly, and spoke among them: 25 “Listen now to me, men of Ithaca, to the word that I shall say. Never have we held assembly or session since the day when goodly Odysseus departed in the hollow ships. And now who has called us together? On whom has such need come either of the young men or of those who are older? 30 Has he heard some news of the army's return, which he might tell us plainly, seeing that he has first learned of it himself? Or is there some other public matter on which he is to speak and address us? A good man he seems in my eyes, a blessed man. May Zeus fulfil for him some good, whatever he desires in his heart.” 35 So he spoke, and the dear son of Odysseus rejoiced at the word of omen; nor did he remain seated after that, but was eager to speak. So he took his stand in the midst of the assembly, and the staff was placed in his hands by the herald Peisenor, wise in counsel. Then he spoke, addressing first the old man: 40 “Old man, not far off, as you will soon learn yourself, is that man who has called the host together—I myself; for on me above all others has sorrow come. I have neither heard any news of the army's return, which I might tell you plainly, seeing that I had first learned of it myself, nor is there any other public matter on which I am to speak and address you. 45 No, it is my own need, for evil has fallen upon my house in two ways. First, I have lost my noble father who was once king among you here, and was gentle as a father; and now there has come an evil far greater still, which will soon altogether destroy my house and ruin all my livelihood. 50 My mother the suitors have beset against her will, the sons of those men who are here the noblest. They shrink from going to the house of her father, Icarius, that he may himself exact the bride-gifts for his daughter, and give her to whomever he wishes, to whoever meets his favour, 55 but thronging our house day after day they slay our oxen and sheep and fat goats, and revel, and drink the sparkling wine recklessly; and havoc is made of all this wealth. For there is no man here, such as Odysseus was, to ward off ruin from the house. 60 As for me, I am in no way such as he to ward it off. Indeed, even if I try I shall be found a weakling and one who knows nothing of valor. Yet truly I would defend myself, if I had but the power; for now deeds past all enduring have been done, and past all that is seemly has my house been destroyed. Take shame upon yourselves, 65 and have regard to your neighbors who dwell around us, and fear the wrath of the gods, lest they turn against you in anger at your evil deeds. I beg you by Olympian Zeus, and by Themis who looses and gathers the assemblies of men, 70 refrain, my friends, and leave me alone to pine in bitter grief—unless indeed my father, goodly Odysseus, spitefully wrought woe on the well-greaved Achaeans, in requital for which you spitefully work woe on me by urging these men on. For me it would be better 75 that you should yourselves eat up my treasures and my flocks. If you were to devour them, recompense would perhaps be made some day; for just so long would we go up and down the city, pressing our suit and asking back our goods, until all was given back. But now past cure are the woes you put upon my heart.” 80 Thus he spoke in wrath, and dashed the staff down upon the ground, bursting into tears; and pity fell upon all the people. Then all the others kept silent, and no man had the heart to answer Telemachus with angry words. Antinous alone answered him, and said: 85 “Telemachus, you braggart, unrestrained in daring, what a thing you have said, putting us to shame, and you would gladly fasten reproach upon us! No, I tell you, it is not the Achaean suitors who are in any way at fault, but your own mother, for she is crafty above all women. For it is now the third year and the fourth will soon pass, 90 since she has been deceiving the hearts of the Achaeans in their breasts. To all she offers hopes, and has promises for each man, sending them messages, but her mind is set on other things. And she devised in her heart this guileful thing also: she set up in her halls a great web, and began weaving— 95 fine of thread was the web and very wide; and at once she spoke among us: “‘Young men, my suitors, since goodly Odysseus is dead, be patient, though eager for my marriage, until I finish this robe—I would not have my spinning come to nothing—a shroud for the lord Laertes, against the time when 100 the fell fate of grievous death shall strike him down; lest any of the Achaean women in the land should be angry with me, if he, who had won great possessions, were to lie without a shroud.’ “So she spoke, and our proud hearts consented. Then day by day she would weave at the great web, 105 but by night would unravel it, when she had had torches placed beside her. Thus for three years she by her craft kept the Achaeans from knowing, and beguiled them; but when the fourth year came as the seasons rolled on, even then one of her women who knew all told us, and we caught her unravelling the splendid web. 110 So she finished it against her will, under compulsion. Therefore to you the suitors make answer thus, that you may yourself know it in your heart, and that all the Achaeans may know. Send away your mother, and command her to wed whomever her father tells her, and whoever is pleasing to her. 115 But if she continues for a long time to vex the sons of the Achaeans, mindful in her heart of this, that Athena has endowed her above other women with knowledge of fair handiwork and an understanding heart, and wiles, such as we have never yet heard that any even of the women of old knew, of those who long ago were fair-tressed Achaean women— 120 Tyro and Alcmene and Mycene of the fair crown—of whom not one was like Penelope in shrewd device; yet this at least she did not devise rightly. For so long shall men devour your livelihood and your possessions, as long as she keeps the counsel which 125 the gods now put in her heart. Great fame she brings on herself, but on you regret for your great substance. As for us, we will go neither to our lands nor anywhere else, until she marries that one of the Achaeans whom she chooses.” Then wise Telemachus answered him, and said: 130 “Antinous, in no way may I thrust out from the house against her will her who bore me and reared me; and, as for my father, he is in some other land, whether he is alive or dead. An evil thing it would be for me to pay back a great price to Icarius, as I must, if of my own will I send my mother away. For from her father's hand shall I suffer evil, and heaven 135 will send other ills besides, for my mother as she leaves the house will invoke the dread Avengers; and I shall have blame, too, from men. Therefore I will never speak this word. And as for you, if your own heart is angry at this, go out from my halls and prepare other feasts for yourselves, 140 eating your own substance and changing from house to house. But if this seems in your eyes to be a better and more profitable thing, that one man's livelihood should be ruined without atonement, then waste it. But I will call upon the gods that are forever, if perhaps Zeus may grant that deeds of requital may be wrought. 145 Without atonement then would you perish within my halls.” So spoke Telemachus, and in answer Zeus, whose voice is borne afar, sent forth two eagles, flying from on high, from a mountain peak. For a time they flew swift as the blasts of the wind side by side with wings outspread; 150 but when they reached the middle of the many-voiced assembly, then they wheeled about, flapping their wings rapidly, and down on the heads of all they looked, and death was in their glare. Then they tore with their talons one another's cheeks and necks on either side, and darted away to the right across the houses and the city of the men. 155 But they were seized with wonder at the birds when their eyes beheld them, and pondered in their hearts on what was to come to pass. Then among them spoke the old lord Halitherses, son of Mastor, for he surpassed all men of his day in knowledge of birds and in uttering words of fate. 160 He with good intent addressed their assembly, and spoke among them: “Listen now to me, men of Ithaca, to the word that I shall say; and to the suitors especially do I declare and announce these things, since on them a great woe is rolling. For Odysseus shall not long be away from his friends, but even now, I think, 165 he is near, and is sowing death and fate for these men, one and all. Yes, and to many others of us also who dwell in clear-seen Ithaca he will be a bane. But long before that let us take thought how we may make an end of this—or rather let them of their own accord make an end, for this is at once the better course for them. 170 Not as one untried do I prophesy, but with sure knowledge. For as to Odysseus I declare that all things are fulfilled just as I told him, when the Argives embarked for Ilios and with them went Odysseus of many wiles. I declared that after suffering many ills and losing all his comrades he would come home in the twentieth year 175 unknown to all; and see, all this is now being brought to pass.” Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him, and said: “Old man, up now, go home and prophesy to your children, lest perhaps in days to come they suffer ill. 180 In this matter I am far better than you to prophesy. Many birds there are that go to and fro under the rays of the sun, and not all are fateful. As for Odysseus, he has perished far away, as I wish that you had likewise perished with him. Then you would not babble so much in your reading of signs, 185 or be urging Telemachus on in his wrath, hoping for some gift for your house, if perhaps he gives it. But I will speak out to you, and this word shall truly be brought to pass. If you, wise in the wisdom of old, beguile with your talk a younger man, and set him on to be angry, 190 for him in the first place it shall be the more grievous, and he will in no case be able to do anything because of these men here, and on you, old man, we will lay a fine which it will grieve your soul to pay, and bitter shall be your sorrow. And to Telemachus I myself, here among all, will offer this counsel. 195 His mother let him tell to go back to the house of her father, and they will prepare a wedding feast and make ready the gifts, very many,—yes, all that should follow after a well-loved daughter. For before that, I think, the sons of the Achaeans will not cease from their grievous wooing, since in any case we fear no man,— 200 no, not Telemachus for all his many words,—nor do we care for any soothsaying which you, old man, may declare; it will fail of fulfillment, and you shall be hated the more. Yes, and his possessions shall be devoured in evil fashion, nor shall requital ever be made, so long as she puts off the Achaeans 205 in the matter of her marriage. And we on our part waiting here day after day are rivals by reason of her excellence, and do not go after other women, whom each one might fitly wed.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Eurymachus and all you other lordly suitors, 210 in this matter I entreat you no longer nor speak of it, for now the gods know it, and all the Achaeans. But come, give me a swift ship and twenty comrades who will accomplish my journey for me to and fro. For I shall go to Sparta and to sandy Pylos 215 to seek tidings of the return of my father who has long been gone, if perhaps any mortal man may tell me, or I may hear a voice from Zeus, which most often brings tidings to men. 220 If I hear that my father is alive and coming home, then truly, though I am deeply afflicted, I could endure for yet a year. But if I hear that he is dead and gone, then I will return to my dear native land and heap up a mound for him, and over it pay funeral rites, very many, as is due, and give my mother to a husband.” So saying he sat down, and among them rose 225 Mentor, who was a comrade of noble Odysseus. To him, on departing with his ships, Odysseus had given all his house in charge, that it should obey the old man and that he should keep all things safe. He with good intent addressed their assembly, and spoke among them: “Listen now to me, men of Ithaca, to the word that I shall say. 230 Never henceforth let sceptred king with a ready heart be kind and gentle, nor let him heed righteousness in his heart, but let him always be harsh and work unrighteousness, seeing that no one remembers divine Odysseus of the people whose lord he was; yet gentle was he as a father. 235 But in truth I do not begrudge the proud suitors that they work deeds of violence in the evil contrivings of their minds, for it is at the hazard of their own lives that they violently devour the house of Odysseus, who, they say, will no more return. No, rather it is with the rest of the folk that I am angry, that you all 240 sit thus in silence, and utter no word of rebuke to make the suitors cease, though you are many and they but few.” Then Leocritus, son of Euenor, answered him: “Mentor, you mischief-maker, you wanderer in your wits, what have you said, telling men to make us cease? No, it would be a hard thing 245 to fight about a feast with men that moreover outnumber you. For if Ithacan Odysseus himself were to come and be eager at heart to drive out from his hall the lordly suitors who are feasting in his house, then his wife would have no joy 250 at his coming, though she longed for him greatly, but right here he would meet a shameful death, if he fought with men that outnumbered him. You have not spoken rightly. But come now, you people, scatter, each one of you to his own lands. As for this fellow, Mentor and Halitherses will speed his journey, for they are friends of his father's house from of old. 255 But I think he will long remain here and get his tidings in Ithaca, and never accomplish this journey.” So he spoke, and hastily broke up the assembly. They then scattered, each one to his own house; and the suitors went to the house of divine Odysseus. 260 But Telemachus went apart to the shore of the sea, and having washed his hands in the grey seawater, prayed to Athena: “Hear me, you who came yesterday as a god to our house, and told me to go in a ship over the misty deep to seek tidings of the return of my father, who has long been gone. 265 See, all this the Achaeans hinder, but the suitors most of all in their evil insolence.” So he spoke in prayer, and Athena drew near to him in the likeness of Mentor, both in form and in voice; and she spoke, and addressed him with winged words: 270 “Telemachus, neither hereafter shall you be a base man or a witless one, if anything of your father's noble spirit has been instilled into you, such a man was he to fulfil both deed and word. So then this journey of yours shall be neither vain nor unfulfilled. But if you are not the son of him and of Penelope, 275 then I have no hope that you will accomplish your desire. Few sons indeed are like their fathers; most are worse, few better than their fathers. But since neither hereafter shall you be a base man or a witless one, nor has the wisdom of Odysseus wholly failed you, 280 there is therefore hope that you will accomplish this work. Now then leave aside the will and counsel of the suitors—fools, for they are in no way either prudent or just, nor do they know anything of death or black fate, which truly is near at hand for them, that they shall all perish in a day. 285 But as for yourself, the journey on which your heart is set shall not be long delayed, so true a friend of your father's house am I, who will equip for you a swift ship, and go with you myself. But go now to the house and join the company of the suitors; make ready stores, and stow all in vessels— 290 wine in jars, and barley meal, the marrow of men, in stout skins;—but I, going through the town, will quickly gather comrades who go willingly. And ships there are, very many, in sea-girt Ithaca, both new and old; of these I will choose for you the one that is best, 295 and quickly will we make her ready and launch her on the broad deep.” So spoke Athena, daughter of Zeus, nor did Telemachus linger long after he had heard the voice of the goddess, but went his way to the house, his heart heavy within him. He found there the proud suitors in the halls, 300 flaying goats and singeing swine in the court. And Antinous with a laugh came straight to Telemachus, and clasped his hand, and spoke, and addressed him: “Telemachus, you braggart, unrestrained in daring, let no evil deed or word be in your heart any longer. 305 No, I urge you, eat and drink just as before. All these things the Achaeans will surely provide for you—the ship and chosen oarsmen—that with speed you may go to sacred Pylos to seek tidings of your noble father.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: 310 “Antinous, in no way is it possible for me in your overweening company to sit at table quietly and to make merry with an easy mind. Is it not enough, you suitors, that in time past you wasted many fine possessions of mine, while I was still a child? But now that I am grown, 315 and gain knowledge by hearing the words of others, yes, and my spirit grows within me, I will try how I may hurl evil fates upon you, either going to Pylos or here in this land. For go I will, nor shall the journey be in vain of which I speak, though I voyage in another's ship, since I may not be master of ship or oarsmen. 320 So, I suppose, it seemed to you to be more to your profit.” He spoke, and snatched his hand from the hand of Antinous without more ado, and the suitors were busy with the feast throughout the hall. They mocked and jeered at him in their talk; and thus would one of the proud youths speak: 325 “Yes, truly Telemachus is planning our murder. He will bring men to aid him from sandy Pylos or even from Sparta, so terribly is he set upon it. Or he means to go to Ephyre, that rich land, to bring from there deadly drugs, 330 that he may cast them in the wine-bowl, and destroy us all.” And again another of the proud youths would say: “Who knows but he himself as he goes on the hollow ship may perish wandering far from his friends, just as Odysseus did? So would he cause us yet more labour; 335 for we should have to divide all his possessions, and his house we should give to his mother to possess, and to him who should wed her.” So they spoke, but Telemachus went down to the high-roofed treasure-chamber of his father, a wide room where gold and bronze lay piled, and clothing in chests, and stores of fragrant oil. 340 There, too, stood great jars of wine, old and sweet, holding within them an unmixed divine drink, and ranged in order along the wall, if ever Odysseus should return home even after many grievous toils. Shut were 345 the double doors, close-fitted; and there both night and day a stewardess stayed, who guarded all in wisdom of mind, Eurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor. To her now Telemachus, when he had called her to the treasure-chamber, spoke, and said: “Nurse, draw me off wine in jars, 350 sweet wine that is the choicest next to that which you guard, ever thinking of that ill-fated one, if perhaps Zeus-born Odysseus may come from I do not know where, having escaped from death and the fates. Fill twelve jars and fit them all with covers, and pour me barley meal into well-sewn skins, 355 and let there be twenty measures of ground barley meal. But keep knowledge of this to yourself, and have all these things brought together; for at evening I will fetch them, when my mother goes to her upper chamber and turns her thoughts to her rest. For I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos 360 to seek tidings of the return of my dear father, if perhaps I may hear any.” So he spoke, and the dear nurse, Eurycleia, uttered a shrill cry, and weeping spoke to him winged words: “Ah, dear child, how has this thought come into your mind? Where do you mean to go over the wide earth, 365 you who are an only son and well-beloved? But he has perished far from his country, the Zeus-born Odysseus, in a strange land; and these men, as soon as you are gone, will devise evil for you hereafter, that you may perish by guile, and themselves divide all these possessions. No, stay here in charge of what is yours; you have no need 370 to suffer ills and go a wanderer over the unresting sea.” Then wise Telemachus answered her: “Take heart, nurse, for not without a god's warrant is this my plan. But swear to tell nothing of this to my dear mother until the eleventh or twelfth day comes, 375 or until she herself misses me and hears that I am gone, that she may not mar her fair flesh with weeping.” So he spoke, and the old woman swore a great oath by the gods to say nothing. But when she had sworn and made an end of the oath, at once she drew for him wine in jars, 380 and poured barley meal into well-sewn skins; and Telemachus went to the hall and joined the company of the suitors. Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, took other counsel. In the likeness of Telemachus she went everywhere throughout the city, and to each of the men she drew near and spoke her word, 385 telling them to gather at evening beside the swift ship. Furthermore, of Noemon, the glorious son of Phronius, she asked a swift ship, and he promised it to her with a ready heart. Now the sun set and all the ways grew dark. Then she drew the swift ship to the sea and 390 put in it all the gear that well-benched ships carry. And she moored it at the mouth of the harbor, and round about it the fine company was gathered together, and the goddess heartened each man. Then again the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, took other counsel. She went her way to the house of divine Odysseus, 395 and there began to shed sweet sleep upon the suitors and made them wander in their drinking, and from their hands she cast the cups. But they rose to go to their rest throughout the city, and remained no long time seated, for sleep was falling upon their eyelids. But to Telemachus spoke flashing-eyed Athena, 400 calling him forth before the stately hall, having likened herself to Mentor both in form and in voice: “Telemachus, already your well-greaved comrades sit at the oar and await your setting out. Come, let us go, that we may not long delay their journey.” 405 So saying, Pallas Athena led the way quickly, and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess. Now when they had come down to the ship and to the sea, they found on the shore their long-haired comrades, and the strong and mighty Telemachus spoke among them: 410 “Come, friends, let us fetch the stores, for all are now gathered together in the hall. My mother knows nothing of this, nor the handmaids either: one only heard my word.” Thus saying, he led the way, and they went along with him. So they brought and 415 stowed everything in the well-benched ship, as the dear son of Odysseus ordered. Then on board the ship stepped Telemachus, and Athena went before him and sat down in the stern of the ship, and near her sat Telemachus, while the men loosed the stern cables and themselves stepped on board, and sat down upon the benches. 420 And flashing-eyed Athena sent them a favorable wind, a strong-blowing West wind that sang over the wine-dark sea. And Telemachus called to his men, and told them to lay hold of the tackling, and they heeded his call. The mast of fir 425 they raised and set in the hollow socket, and made it fast with fore-stays, and hauled up the white sail with twisted thongs of ox-hide. So the wind filled the belly of the sail, and the dark wave sang loudly about the stem of the ship as she went, and she sped over the wave accomplishing her way. 430 Then, when they had made the tackling fast in the swift black ship, they set forth bowls brim full of wine, and poured libations to the immortal gods that are forever, and most of all to the flashing-eyed daughter of Zeus. So all night long and through the dawn the ship cleft her way.
3And now the sun, leaving the beautiful lake, sprang up into the brazen heaven to give light to the immortals and to mortal men on the earth, the giver of grain; and they came to Pylos, the well-built citadel of Neleus. 5 Here the townsfolk on the shore of the sea were offering sacrifice of black bulls to the dark-haired Earth-shaker. Nine companies there were, and five hundred men sat in each, and in each they held nine bulls ready for sacrifice. Now when they had tasted the inner parts and were burning the thigh-pieces to the god, 10 the others put straight in to the shore, and hauled up and furled the sail of the shapely ship, and moored her, and themselves stepped forth. Forth too from the ship stepped Telemachus, and Athena led the way. And the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, spoke first to him, and said: “Telemachus, you no longer have need to feel shame, no, not in the least. 15 For to this end you have sailed over the sea, that you might seek news of your father,—where the earth covered him, and what fate he met. But come now, go straight to Nestor, tamer of horses; let us learn what counsel he keeps hidden in his breast. And beg him yourself that he may tell you the very truth. 20 A lie he will not utter, for he is wise indeed.” Then wise Telemachus answered her: “Mentor, how shall I go, and how shall I greet him? I am as yet quite unversed in subtle speech, and moreover a young man feels shame to question an elder.” 25 Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: “Telemachus, some things you will devise yourself in your breast, and some things heaven too will prompt you. For, I think, not without the favour of the gods have you been born and reared.” So spoke Pallas Athena, and led the way 30 quickly; but he followed in the footsteps of the goddess; and they came to the gathering and the companies of the men of Pylos. There Nestor sat with his sons, and around him his people, making ready the feast, were roasting some of the meat and putting other pieces on spits. But when they saw the strangers they all came thronging about them, 35 and clasped their hands in welcome, and invited them to sit down. First Nestor's son Peisistratus came near and took both by the hand, and made them sit down at the feast on soft fleeces upon the sand of the sea, beside his brother Thrasymedes and his father. 40 Thereupon he gave them portions of the inner meat and poured wine in a golden cup, and, pledging her, he spoke to Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis: “Pray now, stranger, to the lord Poseidon, for his is the feast on which you have chanced in coming here. 45 And when you have poured libations and have prayed, as is fitting, then give your friend also the cup of honey-sweet wine that he may pour, since he too, I think, prays to the immortals; for all men have need of the gods. Yet he is the younger, of the same age as myself, 50 and so to you first I will give the golden cup.” So he spoke, and placed in her hand the cup of sweet wine. But Pallas Athena rejoiced at the man's wisdom and judgment, in that to her first he gave the golden cup; and at once she prayed earnestly to the lord Poseidon: 55 “Hear me, Poseidon, you Earth-enfolder, and do not grudge, in answer to our prayer, to bring these deeds to fulfillment. To Nestor, first of all, and to his sons give renown, and then grant to the rest gracious requital for this glorious hecatomb, to all the men of Pylos; 60 and grant furthermore that Telemachus and I may return when we have accomplished all that for which we came here with our swift black ship.” Thus she prayed, and was herself fulfilling all. Then she gave Telemachus the fair two-handled cup, and in like manner the dear son of Odysseus prayed. 65 Then when they had roasted the outer flesh and drawn it off the spits, they divided the portions and feasted a glorious feast. But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia, spoke first among them: “Now truly it is more fitting to ask and enquire 70 of the strangers who they are, since now they have had their joy of food. Strangers, who are you? From where do you sail over the watery ways? Is it on some business, or do you wander at random over the sea, as pirates do, who wander hazarding their lives and bringing evil to men of other lands?” 75 Then wise Telemachus took courage, and made answer, for Athena herself put courage in his heart, that he might ask about his father who was gone, and that good report might be his among men: “Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, 80 you ask where we are from, and I will surely tell you. We have come from Ithaca that is below Neion; but this business of which I speak is my own, and does not concern the people. I come after the wide-spread rumor of my father, in the hope that I may hear of it, of goodly Odysseus of the steadfast heart, who once, men say, 85 fought by your side and sacked the city of the Trojans. For of all other men, as many as warred with the Trojans, we learn where each man died a woeful death, but of him the son of Cronos has made even the death to be past learning; for no man can tell surely where he has died,— 90 whether he was overcome by foes on the mainland, or on the deep among the waves of Amphitrite. Therefore I have now come to your knees, in case you may be willing to tell me of his woeful death, whether perhaps you saw it with your own eyes, or heard from some other the story 95 of his wanderings; for beyond all men his mother bore him to sorrow. And do not, out of compassion or pity for me, speak soothing words, but tell me truly how you came to behold him. I beg you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus, promised anything to you of word or deed and fulfilled it 100 in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered woes, be mindful of it now, I beg you, and tell me the very truth.” Then the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia, answered him: “My friend, since you have recalled to my mind the sorrow which we endured in that land, we sons of the Achaeans, unrestrained in daring,— 105 all that we endured on shipboard, as we roamed after booty over the misty deep wherever Achilles led; and all our battles around the great city of king Priam;—there all our best were slain. There lies warlike Aias, there Achilles, 110 there Patroclus, the peer of the gods in counsel; and there my own dear son, strong alike and peerless, Antilochus, pre-eminent in speed of foot and as a warrior. Yes, and many other ills we suffered besides these; who of mortal men could tell them all? 115 Indeed, if for five years or six years you were to stay here, and ask of all the woes which the goodly Achaeans endured there, you would grow weary before the end and go back to your native land. For nine years we were busy plotting their ruin with all manner of wiles; and hardly did the son of Cronos bring it to pass. 120 There no man ventured to vie with him in counsel, since goodly Odysseus far excelled in all manner of wiles,—your father, if indeed you are his son. Amazement holds me as I look on you, for truly your speech is like his; nor would one think 125 that a younger man would speak so like him. Now all the time that we were there goodly Odysseus and I never spoke at variance either in the assembly or in the council, but being of one mind advised the Argives with wisdom and shrewd counsel how all might be for the best. 130 But when we had sacked the lofty city of Priam, and had gone away in our ships, and a god had scattered the Achaeans, then, even then, Zeus planned in his heart a woeful return for the Argives, for by no means were all prudent or just. Therefore many of them met an evil fate 135 through the deadly wrath of the flashing-eyed goddess, the daughter of the mighty sire, for she caused strife between the two sons of Atreus. Now these two called to an assembly all the Achaeans, recklessly and in no due order, at set of sun—and they came heavy with wine, the sons of the Achaeans,— 140 and they spoke their word, and told why they had gathered the host together. Then in truth Menelaus urged all the Achaeans to think of their return over the broad back of the sea, but by no means did he please Agamemnon, for he was eager to hold back the host and to offer holy hecatombs, 145 that he might appease the dread wrath of Athena,—fool! nor did he know this, that she was not going to listen; for the mind of the gods who are forever is not quickly turned. So these two stood bandying harsh words; but the well-greaved Achaeans sprang up 150 with a wondrous din, and two-fold plans found favour with them. That night we rested, each side pondering hard thoughts against the other, for Zeus was bringing upon us an evil doom, but in the morning some of us launched our ships upon the bright sea, and put on board our goods and the low-girdled women. 155 Half, indeed, of the host held back and remained there with Agamemnon, son of Atreus, shepherd of the host, but half of us embarked and rowed away; and swiftly the ships sailed, for a god made smooth the cavernous sea. But when we came to Tenedos, we offered sacrifice to the gods, 160 being eager to reach our homes, but Zeus did not yet intend our return, stubborn god, who roused evil strife again a second time. Then some turned back their curved ships and departed, among them the lord Odysseus, the wise and crafty-minded, with his company, once more showing favour to Agamemnon, son of Atreus; 165 but I with the full company of ships that followed me fled on, for I knew that the god was devising evil. And the warlike son of Tydeus fled and urged on his men; and late upon our track came fair-haired Menelaus, and overtook us in Lesbos, as we were debating the long voyage, 170 whether we should sail to sea-ward of rugged Chios, toward the isle Psyria, keeping Chios itself on our left, or to land-ward of Chios past windy Mimas. So we asked the god to show us a sign, and he showed it to us, and told us to cleave through the middle of the sea to Euboea, 175 that we might most quickly escape from misery. And a shrill wind sprang up to blow, and the ships ran swiftly over the teeming ways, and at night put in to Geraestus. There on the altar of Poseidon we laid many thighs of bulls, thankful to have traversed the great sea. 180 It was the fourth day when in Argos the company of Diomedes, son of Tydeus, tamer of horses, halted their shapely ships; but I held on toward Pylos, and the wind was not once quenched from the time when the god first sent it forth to blow. “Thus I came, dear child, without news, nor do I know anything 185 of those others, who of the Achaeans were saved, and who were lost. But what news I have heard as I stay in our halls you shall hear, as is right, nor will I hide it from you. Safely, they say, came the Myrmidons that rage with the spear, whom the famous son of great-hearted Achilles led; 190 and safely Philoctetes, the glorious son of Poias. All his company, too, did Idomeneus bring to Crete, all who escaped the war, and the sea robbed him of none. But of the son of Atreus you have yourselves heard, far off though you are, how he came, and how Aegisthus devised for him a woeful doom. 195 Yet truly he paid the reckoning for it in terrible fashion, so good a thing is it that a son should be left behind a man at his death, since that son took vengeance on his father's slayer, the guileful Aegisthus, because he slew his glorious father. You, too, friend, for I see you are a handsome man and tall, 200 be valiant, that many a one among men yet to be born may praise you.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, yes, truly that son took vengeance, and the Achaeans shall spread his fame abroad, that men who are yet to be may hear of it. 205 O that the gods would clothe me with such strength, that I might take vengeance on the suitors for their grievous sin, who in wantonness devise mischief against me. But the gods have spun for me no such happiness, for me or for my father; and now I must in any case endure.” 210 Then the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia, answered him: “Friend, since you have called this to my mind and spoken of it, they say that many suitors for the hand of your mother devise evils in your halls in spite of you. Tell me, are you willingly thus oppressed, or do the people 215 throughout the land hate you, following the voice of a god? Who knows but Odysseus may some day come and take vengeance on them for their violent deeds,—he alone, it may be, or even all the host of the Achaeans? Ah, would that flashing-eyed Athena might choose to love you just as she then cared exceedingly for glorious Odysseus 220 in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered woes. For never yet have I seen the gods so manifestly showing love, as Pallas Athena did to him, standing manifest by his side. If she would be pleased to love you in such a way and would care for you at heart, then many a one of them would utterly forget marriage.” 225 Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Old man, by no means do I think that this word will be brought to pass. Too great is what you say; amazement holds me. No hope have I that this will come to pass, no, not though the gods should so will it.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, spoke to him, and said: 230 “Telemachus, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth! Easily might a god who willed it bring a man safe home, even from afar. But for myself, I would rather endure many grievous toils before I reached home and saw the day of my returning, than after my return be slain at my hearth, as Agamemnon 235 was slain by the guile of Aegisthus and of his own wife. But in truth death that is common to all the gods themselves cannot ward off from a man they love, when the deadly fate of grievous death strikes him down.” Then wise Telemachus answered her: 240 “Mentor, let us no longer tell of these things despite our grief. For him no return can ever again be brought to pass; no, before this the immortals have devised for him death and black fate. But now I would make enquiry and ask Nestor regarding another matter, since beyond all others he knows judgments and wisdom; 245 for three times, men say, has he been king for a generation of men, and like an immortal he seems to me to look upon. Nestor, son of Neleus, tell me truly: how was the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon, slain? Where was Menelaus? What death did 250 guileful Aegisthus plan for the king, since he slew a man mightier far than himself? Was Menelaus not in Achaean Argos, but wandering elsewhere among men, so that Aegisthus took heart and did the murderous deed?” Then the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia, answered him: “Then truly, my child, I will tell you all the truth. 255 Indeed, you yourself can guess how this matter would have turned out, if the son of Atreus, fair-haired Menelaus, on his return from Troy had found Aegisthus in his halls alive. Then for him not even in death would they have piled the up-piled earth, but the dogs and birds would have torn him 260 as he lay on the plain far from the city, nor would any of the Achaean women have mourned him; for monstrous was the deed he devised. We for our part stayed there in Troy fulfilling our many toils; but he, at ease in a nook of horse-pasturing Argos, constantly sought to beguile with words the wife of Agamemnon. 265 Now at first she spurned the unseemly deed, the beautiful Clytemnestra, for she had an understanding heart; and with her besides was a minstrel whom the son of Atreus strictly charged, when he set forth for the land of Troy, to guard his wife. But when at length the doom of the gods bound her that she should be overcome, 270 then truly Aegisthus took the minstrel to a desert isle and left him to be the prey and spoil of birds; and her, willing as he was willing, he led to his own house. And many thigh-pieces he burned upon the holy altars of the gods, and many offerings he hung up, woven stuffs and gold, 275 since he had accomplished a mighty deed beyond all his heart had hoped. “Now we were sailing together on our way from Troy, the son of Atreus and I, in all friendship; but when we came to holy Sunium, the cape of Athens, there Phoebus Apollo 280 assailed with his gentle shafts and slew the helmsman of Menelaus, as he held in his hands the steering-oar of the speeding ship, Phrontis, son of Onetor, who excelled the tribes of men in piloting a ship when the storm winds blow strong. So Menelaus lingered there, though eager for his journey, 285 that he might bury his comrade and over him pay funeral rites. But when he in his turn, as he passed over the wine-dark sea in the hollow ships, reached in swift course the steep height of Malea, then truly Zeus, whose voice is borne afar, planned for him a hateful path and poured upon him the blasts of shrill winds, 290 and the waves were swollen to huge size, like mountains. Then, parting his ships in two, he brought some to Crete, where the Cydonians dwelt about the streams of Iardanus. Now there is a smooth cliff, sheer towards the sea, on the border of Gortyn in the misty deep, 295 where the Southwest Wind drives the great wave against the headland on the left toward Phaestus, and a little rock holds back a great wave. There came some of his ships, and the men with great effort escaped destruction, but the ships the waves dashed to pieces against the reef. But the five other dark-prowed ships 300 the wind, as it bore them, and the wave brought to Egypt. So he was wandering there with his ships among men of strange speech, gathering much livelihood and gold; but meanwhile Aegisthus devised this woeful work at home. 305 Seven years he reigned over Mycenae, rich in gold, after slaying the son of Atreus, and the people were subdued under him; but in the eighth came as his bane the goodly Orestes back from Athens, and slew his father's murderer, 310 the guileful Aegisthus, because he had slain his glorious father. Now when he had slain him, he made a funeral feast for the Argives over his hateful mother and the craven Aegisthus; and on the very same day there came to him Menelaus, good at the war-cry, bringing much treasure, all the burden that his ships could bear. “So you, my friend, do not wander long far from home, leaving your wealth behind you and men in your house 315 so insolent, lest they divide and devour all your wealth, and you will have gone on a fruitless journey. But to Menelaus I bid and command you to go, for he has but lately come from a strange land, from a people from whom no one would hope in his heart 320 to return, whom the storms had once driven astray into a sea so great, from which not even the birds come back in the space of a year, so great is it and terrible. But now go your way with your ship and your comrades, or, if you will go by land, here are chariot and horses at hand for you, 325 and here at your service are my sons, who will be your guides to goodly Lacedaemon, where lives fair-haired Menelaus. And beg him yourself that he may tell you the very truth. A lie he will not utter, for he is wise indeed.” So he spoke, and the sun set, and darkness came on. 330 Then among them spoke the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena: “Old man, in truth you have told this tale rightly. But come, cut out the tongues of the victims and mix the wine, that when we have poured libations to Poseidon and the other immortals, we may think of sleep; for it is the time for it. 335 Even now the light has gone down beneath the darkness, and it is not fitting to sit long at the feast of the gods, but to go our way.” So spoke the daughter of Zeus, and they listened to her voice. Heralds poured water over their hands, and youths filled the bowls brim full of drink, 340 and served out to all, pouring first drops for libation into the cups. Then they cast the tongues upon the fire, and, rising up, poured libations upon them. But when they had poured libations and had drunk to their heart's content, then truly Athena and godlike Telemachus were both eager to return to the hollow ship; 345 but Nestor on his part sought to stop them, and he spoke to them, saying: “This may Zeus forbid, and the other immortal gods, that you should go from my house to your swift ship as from one utterly without clothing and poor, who has not cloaks and blankets in plenty in his house, 350 on which both he and his guests may sleep softly. No, in my house there are cloaks and fair blankets. Never surely shall the dear son of this man Odysseus lie down upon the deck of a ship, while I yet live and children after me are left in my halls 355 to entertain strangers, whoever comes to my house.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: “Well indeed have you spoken in this, old friend, and it would be fitting for Telemachus to listen to you, since it is far better so. But while he shall now follow with you, that he may sleep 360 in your halls, I for my part will go to the black ship, that I may hearten my comrades and tell them all. For alone among them I declare that I am an older man; the others are younger who follow in friendship, all of them the same age as great-hearted Telemachus. 365 There I will lie down by the hollow black ship this night, but in the morning I will go to the great-hearted Cauconians, where a debt is owing to me, by no means new or small. But send this man on his way with a chariot and with your son, since he has come to your house, and give him horses, 370 the fleetest you have in running and the best in strength.” So spoke the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, and she departed in the likeness of a sea-eagle; and amazement fell upon all at the sight, and the old man marvelled, when his eyes beheld it. And he grasped the hand of Telemachus, and spoke, and addressed him: 375 “Friend, by no means do I think that you will prove a base man or a coward, if truly when you are so young the gods follow you to be your guides. For truly this is none other of those who have their dwellings on Olympus but the daughter of Zeus, Tritogeneia, the maid most glorious, she who honored also your noble father among the Argives. 380 But, O Queen, be gracious, and grant to me fair renown, to me and to my sons and to my revered wife; and to you in return I will sacrifice a sleek heifer, broad of brow, unbroken, which no man has yet led beneath the yoke. Her I will sacrifice, and I will overlay her horns with gold.” 385 So he spoke in prayer, and Pallas Athena heard him. Then the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia, led them, his sons and the husbands of his daughters, to his beautiful palace. And when they reached the glorious palace of the king, they sat down in rows on the chairs and high seats; 390 and on their coming the old man mixed for them a bowl of sweet wine, which now in the eleventh year the housewife opened, when she had loosed the string that held the lid. Of this wine the old man had a bowl mixed, and earnestly he prayed, as he poured libations, to Athena, the daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis. 395 But when they had poured libations, and had drunk to their heart's content, they went, each to his home, to take their rest. But the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia, told Telemachus, the dear son of divine Odysseus, to sleep there on a corded bedstead under the echoing portico, 400 and by him Peisistratus, of the good ashen spear, a leader of men, who among his sons was still unwed in the palace. But he himself slept in the inmost chamber of the lofty house, and beside him lay the lady his wife, who had spread the couch. As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, 405 up from his bed rose the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia, and went forth and sat down on the polished stones which were before his lofty doors, white and glistening as with oil. On these of old used to sit Neleus, the peer of the gods in counsel; 410 but he before this had been struck down by fate and had gone to the house of Hades, and now there sat upon them in his turn Nestor of Gerenia, the guardian of the Achaeans, holding a sceptre in his hands. About him his sons gathered in a throng as they came forth from their chambers, Echephron and Stratius and Perseus and Aretus and godlike Thrasymedes; 415 and to these thereafter came as the sixth the lord Peisistratus. And they led godlike Telemachus and made him sit beside them; and the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia, was first to speak among them: “Quickly, my dear children, fulfil my desire, that first of all the gods I may propitiate Athena, 420 who came to me in manifest presence to the rich feast of the god. Come now, let one go to the plain for a heifer, that she may come speedily, and that the cowherd may drive her; and let one go to the black ship of great-hearted Telemachus and bring all his comrades, and let him leave two men only; 425 and let another tell the goldsmith Laerces to come here, that he may overlay the heifer's horns with gold. And you others stay here together; and tell the handmaids within to make ready a feast throughout our glorious halls, to fetch seats, and logs to set on either side of the altar, and to bring clear water.” 430 So he spoke, and they all set busily to work. The heifer came from the plain and from the swift, shapely ship came the comrades of great-hearted Telemachus; the smith came, bearing in his hands his tools of bronze, the implements of his craft, anvil and hammer and well-made tongs, 435 with which he worked the gold; and Athena came to accept the sacrifice. Then the old man, Nestor, the driver of chariots, gave gold, and the smith prepared it, and overlaid with it the horns of the heifer, that the goddess might rejoice when she beheld the offering. And Stratius and goodly Echephron led the heifer by the horns, 440 and Aretus came from the chamber, bringing them water for the hands in a basin embossed with flowers, and in the other hand he held barley grains in a basket; and Thrasymedes, steadfast in fight, stood by, holding in his hands a sharp axe, to fell the heifer; and Perseus held the bowl for the blood. Then the old man, Nestor, driver of chariots, 445 began the opening rite of hand-washing and sprinkling with barley grains, and earnestly he prayed to Athena, cutting off as first offering the hair from the head, and casting it into the fire. Now when they had prayed, and had strewn the barley grains, at once the son of Nestor, Thrasymedes, high of heart, came near and dealt the blow; and the axe cut through the sinews 450 of the neck, and loosened the strength of the heifer. Then the women raised the sacred cry, the daughters and the sons' wives and the revered wife of Nestor, Eurydice, the eldest of the daughters of Clymenus, and the men raised the heifer's head from the broad-wayed earth and held it, and Peisistratus, leader of men, cut the throat. 455 And when the black blood had flowed from her and the life had left the bones, at once they cut up the body and immediately cut out the thigh-pieces all in due order, and covered them with a double layer of fat, and laid raw flesh upon them. Then the old man burned them on billets of wood, and poured over them sparkling wine, 460 and beside him the young men held in their hands the five-pronged forks. But when the thigh-pieces were wholly burned, and they had tasted the inner parts, they cut up the rest and spitted and roasted it, holding the pointed spits in their hands. Meanwhile the fair Polycaste, 465 the youngest daughter of Nestor, son of Neleus, bathed Telemachus. And when she had bathed him and anointed him richly with oil, and had cast about him a fair cloak and a tunic, forth from the bath he came in form like the immortals; and he went and sat down by Nestor, the shepherd of the people. 470 Now when they had roasted the outer flesh and had drawn it off the spits, they sat down and feasted, and worthy men waited on them, pouring wine into golden cups. But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia, was first to speak, saying: 475 “My sons, up, yoke for Telemachus horses with beautiful mane beneath the chariot, that he may get forward on his journey.” So he spoke, and they readily listened and obeyed; and quickly they yoked beneath the chariot the swift horses. And the housewife placed in the chariot bread and wine 480 and dainties, such as kings, fostered by Zeus, are accustomed to eat. Then Telemachus mounted the beautiful chariot, and Peisistratus, son of Nestor, a leader of men, mounted beside him, and took the reins in his hands. He touched the horses with the whip to start them, and willingly the pair sped on 485 to the plain, and left the steep citadel of Pylos. So all day long they shook the yoke which they bore about their necks. Now the sun set and all the ways grew dark. And they came to Pherae, to the house of Diocles, son of Ortilochus, whom Alpheus begot. 490 There they spent the night, and before them he set the entertainment due to strangers. As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, they yoked the horses and mounted the inlaid chariot, and drove forth from the gateway and the echoing portico. Then Peisistratus touched the horses with the whip to start them, and willingly the pair sped onward. 495 So they came to the wheat-bearing plain, and thereafter pressed on toward their journey's end, so well did their swift horses bear them on. And the sun set and all the ways grew dark.
4And they came to the hollow land of Lacedaemon with its many ravines, and drove to the palace of glorious Menelaus. Him they found giving a marriage feast to his many kinsfolk for his noble son and daughter within his house. 5 His daughter he was sending to the son of Achilles, breaker of the ranks of men, for in the land of Troy he first had promised and pledged that he would give her, and now the gods were bringing their marriage to pass. Her then he was sending forth with horses and chariots to go her way to the glorious city of the Myrmidons, over whom her lord was king; 10 but for his son he was bringing to his home from Sparta the daughter of Alector, for the stalwart Megapenthes, who was his well-beloved son, born of a slave woman; for to Helen the gods granted no more children after she had at the first borne her lovely child, Hermione, who had the beauty of golden Aphrodite. 15 So they were feasting in the great high-roofed hall, the neighbors and kinsfolk of glorious Menelaus, and making merry; and among them a divine minstrel was singing to the lyre, and two tumblers whirled up and down through the midst of them, as he began his song. 20 Then the two, the prince Telemachus and the glorious son of Nestor, halted at the gateway of the palace, they and their two horses. And the lord Eteoneus came forth and saw them, the busy squire of glorious Menelaus; and he went through the hall to bear the tidings to the shepherd of the people. 25 So he came near and spoke to him winged words: “Here are two strangers, Menelaus, fostered of Zeus, two men that are like the seed of great Zeus. But tell me, shall we unyoke for them their swift horses, or send them on their way to some other host, who will give them entertainment?” 30 Then, stirred to deep displeasure, fair-haired Menelaus spoke to him: “Before now you were not accustomed to be a fool, Eteoneus, son of Boethous, but now like a child you talk folly. Surely we two ate very often the hospitable cheer of other men, before we came here in the hope that Zeus 35 would hereafter grant us respite from sorrow. No, unyoke the strangers' horses, and lead the men forward into the house, that they may feast.” So he spoke, and the other hastened through the hall, and called to the other busy squires to follow along with him. They loosed the sweating horses from beneath the yoke 40 and tied them at the stalls of the horses, and flung before them spelt, and mixed with it white barley. Then they tilted the chariot against the bright entrance walls, and led the men into the divine palace. But at the sight they marvelled as they passed through the palace of the king, fostered of Zeus; 45 for there was a gleam as of sun or moon over the high-roofed house of glorious Menelaus. But when they had satisfied their eyes with gazing they went into the polished baths and bathed. And when the maids had bathed them and anointed them with oil, 50 and had cast about them fleecy cloaks and tunics, they sat down on chairs beside Menelaus, son of Atreus. Then a handmaid brought water for the hands in a fair pitcher of gold, and poured it over a silver basin for them to wash, and beside them drew up a polished table. 55 And the grave housekeeper brought and set before them bread, and with it delicacies in abundance, giving freely of her store. And a carver lifted up and placed before them platters of all kinds of meats, and set by them golden goblets. Then fair-haired Menelaus greeted the two and said: 60 “Take of the food, and be glad, and then when you have eaten, we will ask you who among men you are; for in you two the breed of your fathers is not lost, but you are of the breed of men that are sceptred kings, fostered of Zeus; for lowborn men could not father such sons as you.” 65 So saying he took in his hands roast meat and set it before them, the fat ox-chine which they had set before him as a portion of honor. So they put forth their hands to the good food lying ready before them. But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, then Telemachus spoke to the son of Nestor, 70 holding his head close to him, that the others might not hear: “Son of Nestor, dear to this heart of mine, see the flashing of bronze throughout the echoing halls, and the flashing of gold, of electrum, of silver, and of ivory. Of such sort, I think, is the court of Olympian Zeus within, 75 such untold wealth is here; amazement holds me as I look.” Now as he spoke fair-haired Menelaus heard him, and he spoke and addressed them with winged words: “Dear children, with Zeus truly no mortal man could vie, for everlasting are his halls and his possessions; 80 but of men another might vie with me in wealth or perhaps might not. For in truth after many woes and wide wanderings I brought my wealth home in my ships and came in the eighth year. Over Cyprus and Phoenicia I wandered, and Egypt, and I came to the Ethiopians and the Sidonians and the Erembi, 85 and to Libya, where the lambs are horned from their birth. For there the ewes bear their young three times within the full course of the year; there neither master nor shepherd has any lack of cheese or of meat or of sweet milk, but the flocks always yield milk to the milking the year through. 90 While I wandered in those lands gathering much livelihood, meanwhile another slew my brother by stealth and unawares, by the guile of his accursed wife. Thus, you may see, I have no joy in being lord of this wealth; and you may well have heard of this from your fathers, whoever they 95 may be, for very much did I suffer, and let fall into ruin a stately house, one stored with much fine treasure. I wish that I lived in my halls with only a third part of this wealth, and that those men were safe who then perished in the broad land of Troy far from horse-pasturing Argos. 100 And yet, though I often sit in my halls weeping and sorrowing for them all—one moment indeed I ease my heart with weeping, and then again I stop, for men soon have their fill of chill lament—yet for them all I do not mourn so much, despite my grief, 105 as for one only, who makes me loathe both sleep and food, when I think of him; for no one of the Achaeans toiled so much as Odysseus toiled and endured. But to himself, as it seems, his portion was to be only woe, and for me there is sorrow never to be forgotten for him, in that he is gone so long, nor do we know anything 110 of whether he is alive or dead. Mourned he is, I think, by the old man Laertes, and by constant Penelope, and by Telemachus, whom he left a new-born child in his house.” So he spoke, and in Telemachus he roused the desire to weep for his father. Tears from his eyelids he let fall upon the ground, when he heard his father's name, 115 and with both hands held up his purple cloak before his eyes. And Menelaus noticed him, and debated in mind and heart whether he should leave him to speak of his father himself, or whether he should first question him and test him in each thing. 120 While he pondered this in mind and heart, forth then from her fragrant high-roofed chamber came Helen, like Artemis of the golden arrows; and with her came Adraste, and placed for her a chair, beautifully wrought, and Alcippe brought a rug of soft wool 125 and Phylo a silver basket, which Alcandre had given her, the wife of Polybus, who lived in Thebes of Egypt, where the greatest store of wealth is laid up in men's houses. He gave to Menelaus two silver baths and two tripods and ten talents of gold. 130 And besides these, his wife gave to Helen also beautiful gifts,—a golden distaff and a basket with wheels beneath did she give, a basket of silver, and with gold were its rims gilded. This then the handmaid, Phylo, brought and placed beside her, filled with finely-spun yarn, and across it 135 was laid the distaff laden with violet-dark wool. So Helen sat down upon the chair, and below was a footstool for the feet; and at once she questioned her husband on each matter, and said: “Do we know, Menelaus, fostered of Zeus, who these men declare themselves to be who have come to our house? 140 Shall I disguise my thought, or speak the truth? No, my heart bids me speak. For never yet, I declare, have I seen one so like another, whether man or woman—amazement holds me, as I look—as this man is like the son of great-hearted Odysseus, Telemachus, whom that warrior left a new-born child in his house, when for the sake of shameless me you Achaeans came up under the walls of Troy, pondering in your hearts fierce war.” Then fair-haired Menelaus answered her: “I myself now notice it as well, wife, as you notice the likeness. Such were his feet, such his hands, 150 and the glances of his eyes, and his head and hair above. And indeed just now, as I made mention of Odysseus and was telling of all the woe and toil he endured for my sake, this youth let fall a bitter tear from beneath his brows, holding up his purple cloak before his eyes.” 155 Then Peisistratus, son of Nestor, answered him: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, fostered of Zeus, leader of hosts, his son indeed this youth is, as you say. But he is of prudent mind and feels shame at heart thus on his first coming to make a show of forward words 160 in your presence, in whose voice we both take delight as in a god's. But the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia, sent me forth to go with him as his guide, for he was eager to see you, that you might put in his heart some word or some deed. For many sorrows has a son 165 in his halls when his father is gone, when there are no others to be his helpers, just as it is now with Telemachus; his father is gone, and there are no others among the people who might ward off ruin.” Then fair-haired Menelaus answered him and said: “See now, truly there has come to my house the son of a well-beloved man, 170 who for my sake endured many toils. And I thought that if he came back I would welcome him beyond all the other Argives, if Olympian Zeus, whose voice is borne afar, had granted to us two a return in our swift ships over the sea. And in Argos I would have given him a city to live in, and would have built him a house, 175 when I had brought him from Ithaca with his goods and his son and all his people, driving out the dwellers of some one city among those that lie round about and obey me myself as their lord. Then, living here, we would often have met together, nor would anything have parted us, loving and rejoicing in one another, 180 until the black cloud of death enfolded us. But of this, I think, the god himself must have been jealous, who to that unlucky man alone granted no return.” So he spoke, and in them all aroused the desire of lament. Argive Helen wept, the daughter of Zeus, 185 Telemachus wept, and Menelaus, son of Atreus, nor could the son of Nestor keep his eyes tearless. For he thought in his heart of peerless Antilochus, whom the glorious son of the bright Dawn had slain. Thinking of him, he spoke winged words: 190 “Son of Atreus, old Nestor used always to say that you were wise above all men, whenever we made mention of you in his halls and questioned one another. And now, if it may in any way be, listen to me, for I take no joy in weeping at supper time,—and moreover 195 early dawn will soon be here. I count it indeed no blame to weep for any mortal who has died and met his fate. Yes, this is the only due we pay to miserable mortals, to cut the hair and let a tear fall from the cheeks. For a brother of mine, too, is dead, by no means the meanest 200 of the Argives, and you may well have known him. As for me, I never met him nor saw him; but men say that Antilochus was above all others pre-eminent in speed of foot and as a warrior.” Then fair-haired Menelaus answered him and said: “My friend, truly you have said all that a wise man 205 might say or do, even one that was older than you; for from such a father are you sprung, and so you also speak wisely. Easily known is the seed of that man for whom the son of Cronos spins the thread of good fortune at marriage and at birth, just as now he has granted to Nestor throughout all his days continually that 210 he should himself reach a sleek old age in his halls, and that his sons in their turn should be wise and most valiant with the spear. But we will cease the weeping which just now was made, and let us once more think of our supper, and let them pour water over our hands. Tales there will be in the morning also 215 for Telemachus and me to tell to one another to the full.” So he spoke, and Asphalion poured water over their hands, the busy squire of glorious Menelaus. And they put forth their hands to the good food lying ready before them. Then Helen, daughter of Zeus, took other counsel. 220 At once she cast into the wine of which they were drinking a drug to quiet all pain and strife, and bring forgetfulness of every ill. Whoever should drink this down, when it is mingled in the bowl, would not in the course of that day let a tear fall down over his cheeks, 225 no, not though his mother and father should lie there dead, or though before his face men should slay with the sword his brother or dear son, and his own eyes beheld it. Such cunning drugs had the daughter of Zeus, drugs of healing, which Polydamna, the wife of Thon, had given her, a woman of Egypt, for there the earth, the giver of grain, bears the greatest store 230 of drugs, many that are healing when mixed, and many that are baneful; there every man is a physician, wise above humankind; for they are of the race of Paeeon. Now when she had cast in the drug, and had ordered the wine poured out, again she made answer, and said: 235 “Menelaus, son of Atreus, fostered of Zeus, and you that are here, sons of noble men—though now to one and now to another Zeus gives good and ill, for he can do all things,—now truly sit in the halls and feast, and take joy in telling tales, for I will tell what fits the time. 240 All things I cannot tell or recount, all the labours of Odysseus of the steadfast heart; but what a thing was this which that mighty man wrought and endured in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered woes! Marring his own body with cruel blows, 245 and flinging a wretched garment about his shoulders, in the fashion of a slave he entered the broad-wayed city of the foe, and he hid himself under the likeness of another, a beggar, he who was in no way such a one at the ships of the Achaeans. In this likeness he entered the city of the Trojans, and all of them were as babes. 250 I alone recognized him in this disguise, and questioned him, but he in his cunning sought to avoid me. But when I was bathing him and anointing him with oil, and had put clothing on him, and sworn a mighty oath not to make him known among the Trojans as Odysseus 255 before he reached the swift ships and the huts, then at length he told me all the purpose of the Achaeans. And when he had slain many of the Trojans with the long sword, he returned to the company of the Argives and brought back plentiful tidings. Then the other Trojan women wailed aloud, but my soul 260 was glad, for already my heart was turned to go back to my home, and I groaned for the blindness that Aphrodite gave me, when she led me there from my dear native land, forsaking my child and my bridal chamber, and my husband, a man who lacked nothing, whether in wisdom or in comeliness.”[2] 265 Then fair-haired Menelaus answered her and said: “Yes indeed, all this, wife, you have spoken rightly. Before now I have come to know the counsel and the mind of many warriors, and have travelled over the wide earth, but never yet have my eyes beheld such a one 270 as was Odysseus of the steadfast heart. What a thing was this, too, which that mighty man wrought and endured in the carven horse, in which all we chiefs of the Argives were sitting, bearing to the Trojans death and fate! Then you came there, and it must be that you were bidden 275 by some god, who wished to grant glory to the Trojans, and godlike Deiphobus followed you on your way. Three times you went around the hollow ambush, trying it with your touch, and you named aloud the chieftains of the Danaans by their names, likening your voice to the voices of the wives of all the Argives. 280 Now I and the son of Tydeus and goodly Odysseus sat there in the midst and heard how you called, and we two were eager to rise up and come forth, or else to answer at once from within, but Odysseus held us back and restrained us, despite our eagerness. 285 Then all the other sons of the Achaeans held their peace, but Anticlus alone was eager to speak and answer you; but Odysseus firmly closed his mouth with strong hands, and saved all the Achaeans, and held him so until Pallas Athena led you away.” 290 Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, fostered of Zeus, leader of hosts, all the more grievous is it; for in no way did this ward off from him woeful destruction, no, not even if the heart within him had been of iron. But come, send us to bed, that lulled now 295 by sweet sleep we may rest and take our joy.” Thus he spoke, and Argive Helen told her handmaids to place bedsteads beneath the portico, and to lay on them fair purple blankets, and to spread coverlets over them, and on these to put fleecy cloaks for clothing. 300 But the maids went forth from the hall with torches in their hands and spread the couch, and a herald led forth the guests. So they slept there in the fore-hall of the palace, the prince Telemachus and the glorious son of Nestor; but the son of Atreus slept in the inmost chamber of the lofty house, 305 and beside him lay long-robed Helen, peerless among women. As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, up from his bed arose Menelaus, good at the war-cry, and put on his clothing. About his shoulders he slung his sharp sword, and beneath his shining feet bound his fair sandals, 310 and went forth from his chamber like a god to look upon. Then he sat down beside Telemachus, and spoke, and addressed him: “What need has brought you here, prince Telemachus, to goodly Lacedaemon over the broad back of the sea? Is it a public matter, or your own? Tell me the truth of this.” 315 Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, fostered of Zeus, leader of hosts, I came in case you might tell me some tidings of my father. My home is being devoured and my rich lands are ruined; with men that are foes my house is filled, who are always 320 slaying my thronging sheep and my sleek cattle of shambling gait, the suitors of my mother, overbearing in their insolence. Therefore I have now come to your knees, in case you will be willing to tell me of his woeful death, whether you perhaps saw it with your own eyes, or heard from some other the story 325 of his wanderings; for beyond all men did his mother bear him to sorrow. And do not out of compassion or pity for me speak soothing words, but tell me truly how you came to behold him. I beseech you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus, promised anything to you of word or deed and fulfilled it 330 in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered woes, be mindful of it now, I pray you, and tell me the truth.” Then, stirred to deep displeasure, fair-haired Menelaus spoke to him: “Shame on them, for truly in the bed of a man of valiant heart they wished to lie, who are themselves cowards. 335 Just as when in the thicket-lair of a mighty lion a hind has laid to sleep her new-born suckling fawns, and roams over the mountain slopes and grassy vales seeking pasture, and then the lion comes to his lair and upon the two lets loose a cruel doom, 340 so will Odysseus let loose a cruel doom upon these men. I wish, O father Zeus and Athena and Apollo, that in such strength as when once in fair-stablished Lesbos he rose up and wrestled a match with Philomeleides and threw him mightily, and all the Achaeans rejoiced, 345 in just such strength Odysseus might come among the suitors; then would they all find swift destruction and bitterness in their wooing. But in this matter of which you ask and beseech me, truly I will not swerve aside to speak of other things, nor will I deceive you; but of all that the unerring old man of the sea told me 350 not one thing will I hide from you or conceal. “In Egypt, eager though I was to journey here, the gods still held me back, because I did not offer them hecatombs that bring fulfillment, and the gods always wished that men should be mindful of their commands. Now there is an island in the surging sea 355 in front of Egypt, and men call it Pharos, distant as far as a hollow ship runs in a whole day when the shrill wind blows fair behind her. In it is a harbor with good anchorage, from where men launch the shapely ships into the sea, when they have drawn supplies of black water. 360 There for twenty days the gods kept me, nor ever did the winds that blow over the deep spring up, which speed men's ships over the broad back of the sea. And now all my stores would have been spent and the strength of my men, had not one of the gods taken pity on me and saved me, Eidothea, 365 daughter of mighty Proteus, the old man of the sea; for her heart above all others had I moved. She met me as I wandered alone apart from my comrades, who were always roaming about the island, fishing with bent hooks, for hunger pinched their bellies; 370 and she came close to me, and spoke, and said: “‘Are you so very foolish, stranger, and slack of wit, or are you remiss of your own will, and take pleasure in suffering woes? So long you are pent in the isle and can find no sign of deliverance and the heart of your comrades grows faint.’ 375 “So she spoke, and I made answer and said: ‘I will speak out and tell you, whoever among goddesses you are, that in no way am I pent here of my own will, but it must be that I have sinned against the immortals, who hold broad heaven. But tell me—for the gods know all things— 380 who of the immortals fetters me here, and has hindered me from my path, and tell me of my return, how I may go over the teeming deep.’ “So I spoke, and the beautiful goddess at once made answer: ‘Then truly, stranger, I will frankly tell you all. There often comes here the unerring old man of the sea, 385 immortal Proteus of Egypt, who knows the depths of every sea, and is the servant of Poseidon. He, they say, is my father that fathered me. If you could in any way lie in wait and catch him, he will tell you your way and the measure of your path, 390 and of your return, how you may go over the teeming deep. Yes, and he will tell you, you fostered of Zeus, if you so wish, what evil and what good has been wrought in your halls, while you have been gone on your long and grievous way.’ “So she spoke, and I made answer and said: 395 ‘Now devise a means yourself of lying in wait for the divine old man, lest perhaps he see me beforehand and, aware of my purpose, avoid me. For hard is a god for a mortal man to master.’ “So I spoke, and the beautiful goddess at once made answer: ‘Then truly, stranger, I will frankly tell you all. 400 When the sun has reached mid-heaven, the unerring old man of the sea is accustomed to come forth from the brine at the breath of the West Wind, hidden by the dark ripple. And when he has come forth, he lies down to sleep in the hollow caves; and around him the seals, the brood of the fair daughter of the sea, 405 sleep in a herd, coming forth from the gray water, and bitter is the smell they breathe of the depths of the sea. There I will lead you at break of day and lay you all in a row; for you must choose carefully three of your companions, who are the best you have in your well-benched ships. 410 And I will tell you all the wizard wiles of that old man. First he will count the seals, and go over them; but when he has counted them all off by fives, and beheld them, he will lay himself down in their midst, as a shepherd among his flocks of sheep. Now as soon as you see him laid to rest, 415 from then on let your hearts be filled with strength and courage, and hold him there despite his striving and struggling to escape. For try he will, and will assume all kinds of shapes of all things that move upon the earth, and of water, and of wondrous blazing fire. Yet hold him unflinchingly and grip him all the more. 420 But when at length of his own will he speaks and questions you in that shape in which you saw him laid to rest, then, hero, stay your might, and set the old man free, and ask him who of the gods is angry with you, and of your return, how you may go over the teeming deep.’ 425 “So saying she plunged beneath the surging sea, but I went to my ships, where they stood on the sand, and many things did my heart darkly ponder as I went. But when I had come down to the ship and to the sea, and we had made ready our supper, and immortal night had come on, 430 then we lay down to rest on the shore of the sea. And as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, I went along the shore of the broad-wayed sea, praying earnestly to the gods; and I took with me three of my comrades, in whom I trusted most for every adventure. 435 “She meanwhile had plunged beneath the broad bosom of the sea, and had brought forth from the deep the skins of four seals, and all were newly flayed; and she devised a plot against her father. She had scooped out lairs in the sand of the sea, and sat waiting; and we came very near to her, 440 and she made us lie down in a row, and cast a skin over each. Then our ambush would have proved most terrible, for terribly did the deadly stench of the brine-bred seals distress us—who would lay himself down by a beast of the sea?—but she of herself delivered us, and devised a great boon; 445 she brought and placed ambrosia of a very sweet fragrance beneath each man's nose, and destroyed the stench of the beast. So all the morning we waited with steadfast heart, and the seals came forth from the sea in throngs. These then lay down in rows along the shore of the sea, 450 and at noon the old man came forth from the sea and found the fatted seals; and he went over all, and counted their number. Among the creatures he counted us first, nor did his heart guess that there was guile; and then he too lay down. At this we rushed upon him with a shout, and 455 threw our arms about him, nor did that old man forget his crafty wiles. No, at the first he turned into a bearded lion, and then into a serpent, and a leopard, and a huge boar; then he turned into flowing water, and into a tree, high and leafy; but we held on unflinchingly with steadfast heart. 460 But when at last that old man, skilled in wizard arts, grew weary, then he questioned me, and spoke, and said: “‘Who of the gods, son of Atreus, took counsel with you that you might lie in wait for me, and take me against my will? What do you need?’ “So he spoke, and I made answer, and said: 465 ‘You know, old man—why do you seek to put me off with this question?—how long a time I am pent in this isle, and can find no sign of deliverance, and my heart grows faint within me. But tell me—for the gods know all things—who of the immortals fetters me here, and has hindered me from my path, and tell me 470 of my return, how I may go over the teeming deep.’ “So I spoke, and he at once made answer, and said: ‘No, surely you ought to have made fair offerings to Zeus and the other gods before embarking, that with greatest speed you might have come to your country, sailing over the wine-dark sea. 475 For it is not your fate to see your friends, and reach your well-built house and your native land, before you have once more gone to the waters of Aegyptus, the heaven-fed river, and have offered holy hecatombs to the immortal gods who hold broad heaven. 480 Then at length shall the gods grant you the journey you desire.’ “So he spoke, and my spirit was broken within me, because he ordered me to go again over the misty deep to Aegyptus, a long and weary way. Yet even so I made answer, and said: 485 “‘All this I will perform, old man, just as you bid. But come now, tell me this, and declare it truly. Did all the Achaeans return unscathed in their ships, all those whom Nestor and I left, as we set out from Troy? Or did any perish by a cruel death on board his ship, 490 or in the arms of his friends, when he had wound up the skein of war?’ “So I spoke, and he at once made answer, and said: ‘Son of Atreus, why do you question me about this? In no way is it fitting for you to know, or to learn my mind; nor, I think, will you long be free from tears, when you have heard all rightly. 495 For many of them were slain, and many were left; but two chieftains alone of the brazen-coated Achaeans perished on their homeward way (as for the fighting, you yourself were there), and one, I think, still lives, and is held back on the broad deep. “‘Aias truly was lost amid his long-oared ships. 500 Upon the great rocks of Gyrae Poseidon at first drove him, but saved him from the sea; and he would have escaped his doom, hated by Athena though he was, had he not uttered a boastful word in great blindness of heart. He declared that it was in spite of the gods that he had escaped the great gulf of the sea; 505 and Poseidon heard his boastful speech, and at once took his trident in his mighty hands, and struck the rock of Gyrae and split it apart. And one part stayed in its place, but the sundered part fell into the sea, the part on which Aias sat at the first when his heart was greatly blinded, 510 and it bore him down into the boundless surging deep. So there he perished, when he had drunk the salt water. “‘But your brother escaped, indeed, the fates and shunned them with his hollow ships, for queenly Hera saved him. But when he was now about 515 to reach the steep height of Malea, then the storm-wind caught him up and bore him over the teeming deep, groaning heavily, to the border of the land, where in former days Thyestes lived, but where now lived Thyestes' son Aegisthus. But when from there too a safe return was shown him, 520 and the gods changed the course of the wind so that it blew fair, and they reached home, then truly with rejoicing did Agamemnon set foot on his native land, and he clasped his land and kissed it, and many were the hot tears that streamed from his eyes, for welcome to him was the sight of his land. Now from his place of watch a watchman saw him, whom 525 guileful Aegisthus took and set there, promising him as a reward two talents of gold; and he had been keeping guard for a year, lest Agamemnon should pass by him unseen, and be mindful of his furious might. So he went to the palace to bear the tidings to the shepherd of the people, and Aegisthus at once planned a treacherous device. 530 He chose out twenty men, the best in the land, and set them to lie in wait, but on the further side of the hall he ordered a feast prepared. Then he went with chariot and horses to summon Agamemnon, shepherd of the people, his mind pondering a dastardly deed. So he brought him up all unaware of his doom, 535 and when he had feasted him he slew him, as one slays an ox at the stall. And not one of the comrades of the son of Atreus was left, of all that followed him, nor one of the men of Aegisthus, but they were all slain in the halls.’ “So he spoke, and my spirit was broken within me, and I wept, as I sat on the sands, nor had my heart 540 any longer desire to live and to behold the light of the sun. But when I had had my fill of weeping and writhing, then the unerring old man of the sea said to me: “‘No more, son of Atreus, weep for a long time like this without ceasing, for in it we shall find no help. No, rather, with all the speed you can, 545 strive that you may come to your native land, for either you will find Aegisthus alive, or perhaps Orestes may have forestalled you and slain him, and you may chance upon his funeral feast.’ “So he spoke, and my heart and spirit were again warmed with comfort in my breast despite my grief, 550 and I spoke, and addressed him with winged words: “‘Of these men now I know, but name the third, who he is that still lives, and is held back upon the broad sea, or is perhaps dead. Gladly would I hear, despite my grief.’ “So I spoke, and he at once made answer, and said: 555 ‘It is the son of Laertes, whose home is in Ithaca. Him I saw in an island, shedding big tears, in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him there by force, and he cannot come to his native land, for he has at hand no ships with oars and no comrades 560 to send him on his way over the broad back of the sea. But for yourself, Menelaus, fostered of Zeus, it is not ordained that you should die and meet your fate in horse-pasturing Argos, but to the Elysian plain and the bounds of the earth will the immortals convey you, where fair-haired Rhadamanthus lives, 565 and where life is easiest for men. No snow is there, nor heavy storm, nor ever rain, but always Ocean sends up blasts of the shrill-blowing West Wind that they may give cooling to men; for you have Helen as your wife, and are in their eyes the husband of the daughter of Zeus.’ 570 “So saying he plunged beneath the surging sea, but I went to my ships with my god like comrades, and many things did my heart darkly ponder as I went. But when I had come down to the ship and to the sea, and we had made ready our supper, and immortal night had come on, 575 then we lay down to rest on the shore of the sea. And as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, our ships first of all we drew down to the bright sea, and set the masts and the sails in the shapely ships, and the men, too, went on board and sat down upon the benches, 580 and sitting well in order struck the grey sea with their oars. So back again to the waters of Aegyptus, the heaven-fed river, I sailed, and there moored my ships and offered hecatombs that bring fulfillment. But when I had stayed the wrath of the gods that are forever, I heaped up a mound to Agamemnon, that his fame might be unquenchable. 585 Then, when I had made an end of this, I set out for home, and the immortals gave me a fair wind, and brought me swiftly to my dear native land. But come now, stay in my halls until the eleventh or the twelfth day has come. Then I will send you forth with honor and give you splendid gifts, 590 three horses and a well-polished chariot; and besides I will give you a beautiful cup, that you may pour libations to the immortal gods, and remember me all your days.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Son of Atreus, do not keep me here long, 595 for truly for a year I would be content to sit in your house, nor would desire for home or parents come upon me; for wondrous is the pleasure I take in listening to your tales and your speech. But even now my comrades are chafing in sacred Pylos, and you are keeping me here a long time. 600 And whatever gift you would give me, let it be some treasure; but horses I will not take to Ithaca, but will leave them here for yourself to delight in, for you are lord of a wide plain, in which is lotus in abundance, and galingale and wheat and spelt, and broad-eared white barley. 605 But in Ithaca there are no widespread courses nor any meadow-land. It is a pasture-land of goats and pleasanter than one that pastures horses. For not one of the islands that lean upon the sea is fit for driving horses, or rich in meadows, and Ithaca least of all.” So he spoke, and Menelaus, good at the war-cry, smiled, 610 and stroked him with his hand, and spoke, and addressed him: “You are of noble blood, dear child, that you speak this way. Therefore I will change these gifts, for well I may. Of all the gifts that lie stored as treasures in my house, I will give you that one which is fairest and costliest. 615 I will give you a well-wrought mixing bowl. All of silver it is, and with gold are its rims gilded, the work of Hephaestus; and the warrior Phaedimus, king of the Sidonians, gave it to me, when his house sheltered me as I came there, and now I am minded to give it to you.” 620 Thus they spoke to one another, and meanwhile the banqueters came to the palace of the divine king. They drove up sheep, and brought strengthening wine, and their wives with beautiful veils sent them bread. Thus they were busied about the feast in the halls. 625 But the suitors in front of the palace of Odysseus were making merry, throwing the discus and the javelin in a levelled place, as their custom was, in insolence of heart; and Antinous and godlike Eurymachus were sitting there, the leaders of the suitors, who in valor were far the best of all. 630 To them Noemon, son of Phronius, drew near, and he questioned Antinous, and spoke, and said: “Antinous, do we know at all in our hearts, or do we not know, when Telemachus will return from sandy Pylos? He is gone, taking a ship of mine, and I have need of her 635 to cross over to spacious Elis, where I have twelve brood mares, and at the teat sturdy mules as yet unbroken. Of these I would gladly drive one off and break him in.” So he spoke, and they marvelled at heart, for they did not suppose that Telemachus had gone to Neleian Pylos, but that he was somewhere there 640 on his lands, among the flocks or with the swineherd. Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke to him, saying: “Tell me the truth; when did he go, and what youths went with him? Were they chosen youths of Ithaca, or hirelings and slaves of his own? Able would he be to accomplish even that. 645 And tell me this truly, that I may know full well. Was it by force and against your will that he took the black ship from you? or did you give it to him freely of your own will, because he begged you?” Then Noemon, son of Phronius, answered him: “I myself freely gave it to him. What else could any man do, 650 when a man like him, his heart laden with care, makes entreaty? It would be hard to deny the gift. The youths that are the noblest in the land after ourselves, these have gone with him; and among them I noticed one going on board as their leader, Mentor, or a god, who was in all things like Mentor. 655 But at this I marvel. I saw goodly Mentor here yesterday at early dawn; but at that time he embarked for Pylos.” So saying he departed to his father's house, but of those two the proud hearts were angered. The suitors they at once made sit down and cease from their games; 660 and among them spoke Antinous, son of Eupeithes, in displeasure; and with rage was his black heart wholly filled, and his eyes were like blazing fire. “Curse him, truly a proud deed has been insolently brought to pass by Telemachus, this journey, and we thought that he would never see it accomplished. 665 In defiance of all of us here the lad is gone without more ado, launching a ship, and choosing the best men in the land. He will begin before long to be our bane; but to his own undoing may Zeus destroy his might before ever he reaches the measure of manhood. But come, give me a swift ship and twenty men, 670 that I may watch in ambush for him as he passes in the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos. Thus shall his voyaging in search of his father come to a sorry end.” So he spoke, and they all praised his words, and told him to act. And at once they rose up and went to the house of Odysseus. 675 Now Penelope was not long without knowledge of the plans which the suitors were plotting in the deep of their hearts; for the herald Medon told her, who heard their counsel as he stood outside the court and they within were weaving their plot. So he went through the hall to bear the tidings to Penelope; 680 and as he stepped across the threshold Penelope spoke to him and said: “Herald, why have the lordly suitors sent you forth? Was it to tell the handmaids of divine Odysseus to cease from their tasks, and make ready a feast for them? Never wooing any more, nor consorting together elsewhere, 685 may they now feast here their latest and their last—you who are always thronging here and wasting much livelihood, the wealth of wise Telemachus. Surely you did not listen at all in olden days, when you were children, when your fathers told what kind of man Odysseus was among those that fathered you, 690 in that he did no wrong in deed or word to any man in the land, as the custom is of divine kings—one man they hate and another they love. Yet he never did iniquity at all to any man. But your mind and your unseemly deeds 695 are plain to see, nor is there in after days any gratitude for good deeds done.” Then Medon, wise of heart, answered her: “I wish, O queen, that this were the greatest evil. But another far greater and more grievous the suitors are planning, which I pray that the son of Cronos may never bring to pass. 700 They are minded to slay Telemachus with the sharp sword on his homeward way; for he went in quest of tidings of his father to sacred Pylos and to goodly Lacedaemon.” So he spoke, and her knees were loosened where she sat, and her heart melted. For a long time she was speechless, and both her eyes 705 were filled with tears, and the flow of her voice was checked. But at last she made answer, and said to him: “Herald, why is my son gone? He had no need to go on board swift-faring ships, which serve men as horses of the deep, and cross over the wide waters of the sea. 710 Was it that not even his name should be left among men?” Then Medon, wise of heart, answered her: “I do not know whether some god impelled him, or whether his own heart was moved to go to Pylos, that he might learn either of his father's return or what fate he had met.” 715 So he spoke, and departed through the house of Odysseus, and on her fell a cloud of soul-consuming grief, and she no longer had the heart to sit upon one of the many seats that were in the room, but down upon the threshold of her fair-wrought chamber she sank, moaning piteously, and round about her wailed her handmaids, 720 all that were in the house, both young and old. Among these with sobs of lamentation spoke Penelope: “Hear me, my friends, for to me the Olympian has given sorrow above all the women who were bred and born with me. For long ago I lost my noble husband of the lion heart, 725 pre-eminent in every kind of worth among the Danaans, my noble husband, whose fame is wide through Hellas and mid-Argos. And now again my well-loved son have the storm-winds swept away from our halls without tidings, nor did I hear of his setting forth. Cruel, that you are! Not even you took thought, any one of you, 730 to rouse me from my couch, though in your hearts you knew full well when he went on board the hollow black ship. For had I learned that he was pondering this journey, he would truly have stayed here, however eager to be gone, or he would have left me dead in the halls. 735 But now let someone hasten to call here the aged Dolius, my servant, whom my father gave me before I ever came here, and who keeps my garden of many trees, that he may at once go and sit by Laertes, and tell him of all these things. So perhaps Laertes may weave some plan in his heart, 740 and go forth and with weeping make his plea to the people, who are minded to destroy his race and that of godlike Odysseus.” Then the good nurse Eurycleia answered her: “Dear lady, you may truly slay me with the pitiless sword or let me stay in the house, yet I will not hide my word from you. 745 I knew all this, and gave him whatever he asked of me, bread and sweet wine. But he took from me a mighty oath not to tell you until at least the twelfth day should come, or you should yourself miss him and hear that he was gone, that you might not mar your fair flesh with weeping. 750 But now bathe, and take clean clothing for your body, and then go up to your upper chamber with your handmaids and pray to Athena, the daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis; for she may then save him even from death. And do not trouble a troubled old man; for 755 the race of the son of Arceisius is not, I think, utterly hated by the blessed gods, but there shall still be one, I believe, to hold the high-roofed halls and the rich fields far away.” So she spoke, and lulled Penelope's laments, and made her eyes cease from weeping. She then bathed, and took clean clothing for her body, 760 and went up to her upper chamber with her handmaids, and placing barley grains in a basket prayed to Athena: “Hear me, child of Zeus who bears the aegis, unwearied one. If ever Odysseus, of many wiles, burned to you in his halls fat thigh-pieces of heifer or ewe, 765 remember these things now, I pray you, and save my dear son, and ward off from him the suitors in their evil insolence.” So saying she raised the sacred cry, and the goddess heard her prayer. But the suitors broke into uproar throughout the shadowy halls, and thus would one of the proud youths speak: 770 “Yes, surely the queen, wooed by many, is preparing our marriage, nor does she know at all that death has been made ready for her son.” So would one of them speak; but they did not know how these things were to be. And Antinous addressed their company, and said: “Good sirs, shun haughty speech 775 of every kind alike, lest someone report your speech even within the house. No, come, in silence thus let us arise and put into effect our plan which pleased us one and all at heart.” So he spoke, and chose twenty men that were best, and they went their way to the swift ship and the shore of the sea. 780 The ship first of all they drew down to the deep water, and set the mast and sail in the black ship, and fitted the oars in the leather thole-straps, all in due order, and spread the white sail. And proud squires brought them their weapons. 785 Well out in the roadstead they moored the ship, and themselves disembarked. There then they took supper, and waited till evening should come. But she, the wise Penelope, lay there in her upper chamber, touching no food, tasting neither food nor drink, pondering whether her peerless son would escape death, 790 or be slain by the insolent suitors. And just as a lion is seized with fear and broods amid a throng of men, when they draw their crafty ring about him, so was she pondering when sweet sleep came upon her. And she sank back and slept, and all her joints relaxed. 795 Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, took other counsel. She made a phantom, and likened it in form to a woman, Iphthime, daughter of great-hearted Icarius, whom Eumelus wedded, whose home was in Pherae. And she sent it to the house of divine Odysseus, 800 to Penelope in the midst of her wailing and lamenting, to bid her cease from weeping and tearful lamentation. So into the chamber it passed by the thong of the bolt, and stood above her head, and spoke to her, and said: “Are you sleeping, Penelope, your heart deeply stricken? 805 No, the gods that live at ease do not allow you to weep or be distressed, seeing that your son is yet to return; for in no way is he a sinner in the eyes of the gods.” Then wise Penelope answered her, as she slumbered very sweetly at the gates of dreams: 810 “Why, sister, have you come here? You have not before now been accustomed to come, for you live in a home far away. And you bid me cease from my grief and the many pains that distress me in mind and heart. Long ago I lost my noble husband of the lion heart, 815 pre-eminent in every kind of worth among the Danaans, my noble husband whose fame is wide in Hellas and mid-Argos. And now again my well-loved son has gone forth in a hollow ship, a mere child, knowing nothing of toils and the gatherings of men. For him I sorrow even more than for that other, 820 and tremble for him, and fear lest anything befall him, whether it be in the land of the men to whom he has gone, or on the sea. For many foes are plotting against him, eager to slay him before he comes back to his native land.” Then the dim phantom answered her, and said: 825 “Take heart, and do not be too greatly afraid in your mind; since such a guide goes with him as men have very often begged to stand by their side, for she has power,—Pallas Athena. And she pities you in your sorrow, for she it is that has sent me forth to tell you this.” 830 Then again wise Penelope answered her: “If you are indeed a god, and have listened to the voice of a god, come, tell me, I pray you, also of that unhappy one, whether he still lives and beholds the light of the sun, or whether he is already dead and in the house of Hades.” 835 And the dim phantom answered her, and said: “No, of him I may not speak at length, whether he is alive or dead; it is an ill thing to speak words vain as wind.” So saying the phantom glided away by the bolt of the door into the breath of the winds. And 840 the daughter of Icarius started up from sleep, and her heart was warmed with comfort, that so clear a vision had sped to her in the darkness of night. But the suitors embarked, and sailed over the watery ways, pondering in their hearts utter murder for Telemachus. There is a rocky isle in the midst of the sea, 845 midway between Ithaca and rugged Samos, Asteris, of no great size, but in it is a harbor where ships may lie, with an entrance on either side. There it was that the Achaeans lingered, lying in wait for Telemachus.
5Now Dawn arose from her couch from beside lordly Tithonus, to bring light to the immortals and to mortal men. And the gods were sitting down to council, and among them Zeus, who thunders on high, whose might is supreme. 5 To them Athena was recounting the many woes of Odysseus, as she called them to mind; for it troubled her that he remained in the dwelling of the nymph: “Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods that are forever, never from now on let a sceptred king with a ready heart be kind and gentle, nor let him heed righteousness in his mind; 10 but let him always be harsh, and do unrighteous deeds, seeing that no one remembers divine Odysseus of the people whose lord he was; yet gentle was he as a father. He indeed remains on an island suffering grievous pains, in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who 15 keeps him there by force; and he cannot return to his own land, for he has at hand no ships with oars and no comrades to send him on his way over the broad back of the sea. And now again they intend to slay his well-loved son on his homeward way; for he went in search of news of his father 20 to sacred Pylos and to goodly Lacedaemon.” Then Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, answered her, and said: “My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth! Did you not yourself devise this plan, that Odysseus might indeed take vengeance on these men at his coming? 25 But as for Telemachus, guide him in your wisdom, for you can, so that all unscathed he may reach his native land, and the suitors may come back in their ship baffled in their purpose.” He spoke, and said to Hermes, his dear son: “Hermes, now, seeing that you are at other times our messenger, 30 declare to the fair-tressed nymph our fixed resolve, namely the return of Odysseus of the steadfast heart, that he may return with guidance neither of gods nor of mortal men, but that on a stoutly-bound raft, suffering woes, he may come on the twentieth day to deep-soiled Scheria, 35 the land of the Phaeacians, who are closely akin to the gods. They shall heartily show him all honor, as if he were a god, and shall send him in a ship to his dear native land, after giving him stores of bronze and gold and clothing, more than Odysseus would ever have won for himself from Troy, 40 if he had returned unscathed with his due share of the spoil. For in this way it is his fate to see his friends, and reach his high-roofed house and his native land.” So he spoke, and the messenger, Argeiphontes, did not fail to obey. At once he bound beneath his feet his beautiful sandals, 45 immortal, golden, which used to carry him over the waters of the sea and over the boundless land swift as the blasts of the wind. And he took the wand with which he lulls to sleep the eyes of whomever he wishes, while others again he awakens even out of slumber. With this in his hand the strong Argeiphontes flew. 50 On to Pieria he stepped from the upper air, and swooped down upon the sea, and then sped over the wave like a bird, the cormorant, which in quest of fish over the dread gulfs of the unresting sea wets its thick plumage in the brine. In such a way did Hermes ride upon the multitudinous waves. 55 But when he had reached the island which lay far off, then out of the violet sea he came to land, and went his way until he came to a great cave, in which lived the fair-tressed nymph; and he found her inside. A great fire was burning on the hearth, and from far off over the isle there was a fragrance 60 of cleft cedar and juniper, as they burned; but she inside was singing with a sweet voice as she went to and fro before the loom, weaving with a golden shuttle. All around the cave grew a luxuriant wood, alder and poplar and sweet-smelling cypress, 65 in which birds long of wing used to nest, owls and falcons and sea-crows with chattering tongues, who ply their business on the sea. And right there about the hollow cave ran trailing a garden vine, in the pride of its prime, richly laden with clusters. 70 And fountains four in a row were flowing with bright water close by one another, turned one this way, one that. And all around, soft meadows of violets and parsley were blooming. There even an immortal, who chanced to come, might gaze and marvel, and delight his soul; 75 and there the messenger Argeiphontes stood and marvelled. But when he had marvelled in his heart at all things, at once he went into the wide cave; nor did Calypso, the beautiful goddess, fail to know him, when she saw him face to face; for not unknown are 80 the immortal gods to one another, even though one lives in a home far away. But the great-hearted Odysseus he did not find inside; for he sat weeping on the shore, as had been his custom, racking his soul with tears and groans and griefs, and he would look over the unresting sea, shedding tears. 85 And Calypso, the beautiful goddess, questioned Hermes, when she had made him sit on a bright shining chair: “Why, Hermes of the golden wand, have you come, an honored guest and welcome? before now you have not been accustomed to come. Speak what is in your mind; my heart bids me fulfil it, 90 if fulfil it I can, and it is a thing that can be fulfilled. But follow me further, that I may set hospitality before you.” So saying, the goddess set before him a table laden with ambrosia, and mixed the ruddy nectar. So he drank and ate, the messenger Argeiphontes. 95 But when he had dined and satisfied his soul with food, then he made answer, and addressed her, saying: “You, a goddess, question me, a god, about my coming, and I will speak my word truly, since you bid me. It was Zeus who told me to come here against my will. 100 Who of his own will would speed over so great a space of salt sea-water, great past telling? Nor is there at hand any city of mortals who offer to the gods sacrifice and choice hecatombs. But it is in no way possible for any other god to evade or make void the will of Zeus, who bears the aegis. 105 He says that there is here with you a man most wretched above all those warriors who around the city of Priam fought for nine years, and in the tenth year sacked the city and departed homeward. But on the way they sinned against Athena, and she sent upon them an evil wind and long waves. 110 There all the rest of his noble comrades perished, but as for him, the wind and the wave, as they carried him, brought him here. Him now Zeus bids you send on his way with all speed, for it is not his fate to perish here far from his friends, but it is still his lot to see his friends and reach 115 his high-roofed house and his native land.” So he spoke, and Calypso, the beautiful goddess, shuddered, and she spoke, and addressed him with winged words: “Cruel are you, O gods, and quick to envy above all others, seeing that you begrudge goddesses that they should mate with men 120 openly, if any takes a mortal as her dear bed-fellow. Thus, when rosy-fingered Dawn took Orion for herself, you gods that live at ease begrudged her, till in Ortygia chaste Artemis of the golden throne assailed him with her gentle shafts and slew him. 125 Thus too, when fair-tressed Demeter, yielding to her passion, lay in love with Iasion in the thrice-ploughed fallow land, Zeus was not long without knowledge of it, but struck him with his bright thunder-bolt and slew him. And even so again do you now begrudge me, O gods, that a mortal man should stay with me. 130 Him I saved when he was bestriding the keel and all alone, for Zeus had struck his swift ship with his bright thunder-bolt, and had shattered it in the midst of the wine-dark sea. There all the rest of his noble comrades perished, but as for him, the wind and the wave, as they carried him, brought him here. 135 Him I welcomed kindly and gave him food, and said that I would make him immortal and ageless all his days. But since it is in no way possible for any other god to evade or make void the will of Zeus who bears the aegis, let him go his way, if Zeus thus orders and commands, 140 over the unresting sea. But it is not I that shall give him convoy, for I have at hand no ships with oars and no men to send him on his way over the broad back of the sea. But with a ready heart I will give him counsel, and will hide nothing, so that all unscathed he may return to his native land.” 145 Then again the messenger Argeiphontes answered her: “Even so send him off now, and beware of the wrath of Zeus, lest perhaps he grow angry and visit his anger upon you hereafter.” So saying, the strong Argeiphontes departed, and the queenly nymph went to the great-hearted Odysseus, 150 when she had heard the message of Zeus. Him she found sitting on the shore, and his eyes were never dry of tears, and his sweet life was ebbing away, as he longed mournfully for his return, for the nymph was no longer pleasing in his sight. By night indeed he would sleep by her side of necessity 155 in the hollow caves, unwilling beside the willing nymph, but by day he would sit on the rocks and the sands, racking his soul with tears and groans and griefs, and he would look over the unresting sea, shedding tears. Then coming close to him, the beautiful goddess addressed him: 160 “Unhappy man, sorrow here no longer, I beg you, nor let your life pine away; for even now with a ready heart I will send you on your way. Come now, hew long beams with the axe, and make a broad raft, and fasten upon it cross-planks for a deck well above it, so that it may carry you over the misty deep. 165 And I will place in it bread and water and red wine to satisfy your heart, to keep hunger from you. And I will clothe you with garments, and will send a fair wind behind you, so that all unscathed you may return to your native land, if it is the will of the gods who hold broad heaven; 170 for they are mightier than I both to purpose and to fulfil.” So she spoke, and much-enduring goodly Odysseus shuddered, and he spoke, and addressed her with winged words: “Some other thing, goddess, are you planning in this, and not my sending, seeing that you bid me cross on a raft the great gulf of the sea, 175 dread and grievous, over which not even the shapely, swift-faring ships pass, rejoicing in the wind of Zeus. But I will not set foot on a raft against your will, unless you, goddess, will bring yourself to swear a mighty oath that you will not plot against me any fresh mischief to my hurt.” 180 So he spoke, but Calypso, the beautiful goddess, smiled, and stroked him with her hand, and spoke, and addressed him: “Truly you are a rogue, and not stunted in wit, that you have thought to utter such a word. Now therefore let earth be witness to this, and the broad heaven above, 185 and the down-flowing water of the Styx, which is the greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods, that I will not plot against you any fresh mischief to your hurt. No, I have such thoughts in mind, and will give such counsel, as I should devise for my own self, if such need should come on me. 190 For I too have a mind that is righteous, and the heart in this breast of mine is not of iron, but has compassion.” So saying, the beautiful goddess led the way quickly, and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess. And they came to the hollow cave, the goddess and the man, 195 and he sat down upon the chair from which Hermes had risen, and the nymph set before him all kinds of food to eat and drink, of such sort as mortal men eat. But she herself sat opposite divine Odysseus, and before her the handmaids set ambrosia and nectar. 200 So they put out their hands to the good cheer lying ready before them. But when they had their fill of food and drink, Calypso, the beautiful goddess, was the first to speak, and said: “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, 205 would you then go home now at once to your dear native land! Yet, even so, farewell. But if in your heart you knew all the measure of woe it is your fate to fulfil before you come to your native land, you would stay here and keep this house with me, and would be immortal, for all your desire to see 210 your wife for whom you long day by day. Surely not inferior to her do I declare myself to be either in form or stature, for in no way is it fitting that mortal women should vie with immortals in form or beauty.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: 215 “Mighty goddess, do not be angry with me for this. I myself know very well that wise Penelope is less impressive to look upon than you in beauty and in stature, for she is a mortal, while you are immortal and ageless. But even so I wish and long day by day 220 to reach my home, and to see the day of my return. And if again some god shall strike me on the wine-dark sea, I will endure it, having in my breast a heart that endures affliction. For before this I have suffered much and toiled much amid the waves and in war; let this also be added to that.” 225 So he spoke, and the sun set and darkness came on. And the two went into the innermost recess of the hollow cave, and took their joy of love, remaining each by the other's side. As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, at once Odysseus put on a cloak and a tunic, 230 and the nymph clothed herself in a long white robe, finely woven and beautiful, and about her waist she cast a fair girdle of gold, and on her head a veil above. Then she set herself to plan the sending of the great-hearted Odysseus. She gave him a great axe, well fitted to his hands, 235 an axe of bronze, sharpened on both sides; and in it was a beautiful handle of olive wood, securely fastened; and after that she gave him a polished adze. Then she led the way to the borders of the island where tall trees were standing, alder and poplar and fir, reaching to the skies, 240 long dry and well-seasoned, which would float lightly for him. But when she had shown him where the tall trees grew, Calypso, the beautiful goddess, returned homewards, but he fell to cutting timbers, and his work went forward quickly. Twenty trees in all did he fell, and trimmed them with the axe; 245 then he skillfully smoothed them all and made them straight to the line. Meanwhile Calypso, the beautiful goddess, brought him augers; and he bored all the pieces and fitted them to one another, and with pegs and morticings he hammered it together. Wide as a man well-skilled in carpentry marks out the curve of the hull of a freight-ship, 250 broad of beam, even so wide did Odysseus make his raft. And he set up the deck-beams, bolting them to the close-set ribs, and laboured on; and he finished the raft with long gunwales. In it he set a mast and a yard-arm, fitted to it, 255 and furthermore made himself a steering-oar, with which to steer. Then he fenced in the whole from stem to stern with willow withes to be a defence against the wave, and strewed much brush on it. Meanwhile Calypso, the beautiful goddess, brought him cloth to make a sail, and he fashioned that too with skill. 260 And he made fast in the raft braces and halyards and sheets, and then with levers forced it down into the bright sea. Now the fourth day came and all his work was done. And on the fifth the beautiful Calypso sent him on his way from the island after she had bathed him and clothed him in fragrant garments. 265 On the raft the goddess put a skin of dark wine, and another, a great one, of water, and provisions, too, in a bag. In it she put an abundance of delicacies to satisfy his heart, and she sent forth a gentle wind and warm. Gladly then did goodly Odysseus spread his sail to the breeze; 270 and he sat and guided his raft skilfully with the steering-oar, nor did sleep fall upon his eyelids, as he watched the Pleiads, and late-setting Bootes, and the Bear, which men also call the Wain, which always circles where it is and watches Orion, 275 and alone has no part in the baths of Ocean. For this star Calypso, the beautiful goddess, had told him to keep on the left hand as he sailed over the sea. For seventeen days then he sailed over the sea, and on the eighteenth appeared the shadowy mountains 280 of the land of the Phaeacians, where it lay nearest to him; and it looked like a shield in the misty deep. But the glorious Earth-shaker, as he came back from the Ethiopians, beheld him from afar, from the mountains of the Solymi: for Odysseus was seen by him sailing over the sea; and he grew the angrier in spirit, 285 and shook his head, and thus he spoke to his own heart: “Curse it! Surely the gods have changed their purpose regarding Odysseus, while I was among the Ethiopians. And see, he is near to the land of the Phaeacians, where it is his fate to escape from the great bonds of the woe which has come upon him. 290 Yes, but even yet, I think, I shall drive him to his fill of evil.” So saying, he gathered the clouds, and seizing his trident in his hands troubled the sea, and roused all blasts of all kinds of winds, and hid with clouds land and sea alike; and night rushed down from heaven. 295 Together the East Wind and the South Wind dashed, and the fierce-blowing West Wind and the North Wind, born in the bright heaven, rolling before him a mighty wave. Then the knees of Odysseus were loosened and his heart melted, and deeply moved he spoke to his own mighty spirit: “Ah me, wretched that I am! What is to befall me at the last? 300 I fear that truly all that the goddess said was true, when she declared that on the sea, before ever I came to my native land, I should fill up my measure of woes; and see, all this now is being brought to pass. In such a way does Zeus overcast the broad heaven with clouds, and has stirred up the sea, and the blasts 305 of all kinds of winds sweep upon me; now my utter destruction is sure. Three times blessed those Danaans, yes, four times blessed, who long ago perished in the wide land of Troy, doing the pleasure of the sons of Atreus. Even so would that I had died and met my fate on that day when the throngs 310 of the Trojans hurled upon me bronze-tipped spears, fighting around the body of the dead son of Peleus. Then I should have got funeral rites, and the Achaeans would have spread my fame, but now by a miserable death it was appointed me to be cut off.” Even as he spoke thus the great wave struck him from on high, rushing upon him with terrible might, and around it whirled his raft. 315 Far from the raft he fell, and let the steering-oar fall from his hand; but his mast was broken in the middle by the fierce blast of tumultuous winds that came upon it, and far in the sea sail and yardarm fell. As for him, for a long time the wave held him in the depths, nor could he 320 rise at once from beneath the onrush of the mighty wave, for the garments which beautiful Calypso had given him weighed him down. At length, however, he came up, and spat out from his mouth the bitter brine which flowed in streams from his head. Yet even so he did not forget his raft, in a sorry plight though he was, 325 but sprang after it amid the waves, and laid hold of it, and sat down in the middle of it, seeking to escape the doom of death; and a great wave kept carrying him this way and that along its course. As when in autumn the North Wind carries the thistle-tufts over the plain, and close they cling to one another, 330 so did the winds carry the raft this way and that over the sea. Now the South Wind would fling it to the North Wind to be driven on, and now again the East Wind would yield it to the West Wind to drive. But the daughter of Cadmus, Ino of the fair ankles, saw him, Leucothea, who long ago was a mortal of human speech, 335 but now in the deeps of the sea has won a share of honor from the gods. She was touched with pity for Odysseus, as he wandered and was in great distress, and she rose up from the deep like a gull on the wing, and sat on the stoutly-bound raft, and spoke, saying: “Unhappy man, how is it that Poseidon, the earth-shaker, 340 has conceived such furious wrath against you, that he is sowing for you the seeds of many evils? Yet truly he shall not utterly destroy you for all his rage. No, do as I say; and I think you do not lack understanding. Strip off these garments, and leave your raft to be driven by the winds, but swim with your hands and so strive to reach 345 the land of the Phaeacians, where it is your fate to escape. Come, take this veil, and stretch it beneath your breast. It is immortal; there is no fear that you will suffer anything or perish. But when with your hands you have laid hold of the land, loosen it from you, and cast it into the wine-dark sea 350 far from the land, and yourself turn away.” So saying, the goddess gave him the veil, and herself plunged again into the surging deep, like a gull; and the dark wave hid her. Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus pondered, 355 and deeply moved he spoke to his own mighty spirit: “Woe is me! Let it not be that some one of the immortals is again weaving a snare for me, that she bids me leave my raft. No, I will certainly not obey yet, for far off my eyes beheld the land, where she said I was to escape. 360 But this I will do, and it seems to me that this is best: as long as the timbers hold firm in their fastenings, so long will I remain here and endure to suffer affliction; but when the wave has shattered the raft to pieces, I will swim, seeing that there is nothing better to devise.” 365 While he pondered thus in mind and heart, Poseidon, the earth-shaker, made a great wave rise up, dread and grievous, arching over from above, and drove it upon him. And as when a strong wind tosses a heap of straw that is dry, and some it scatters here, some there, 370 even so the wave scattered the long timbers of the raft. But Odysseus bestrode one plank, as though he were riding a horse, and stripped off the garments which beautiful Calypso had given him. Then at once he stretched the veil beneath his breast, and flung himself headlong into the sea with hands outstretched, 375 ready to swim. And the lord, the earth-shaker, saw him, and he shook his head, and thus he spoke to his own heart: “So now, after you have suffered many ills, go wandering over the deep, till you come among the people nurtured by Zeus. Yet even so, I think, you will not make light of your suffering.” 380 So saying, he lashed his fair-maned horses, and came to Aegae, where his glorious palace is. But Athena, daughter of Zeus, took other counsel. She checked the paths of the other winds, and ordered them all to cease and be lulled to rest; 385 but she roused the swift North Wind, and broke the waves before him, to the end that Zeus-born Odysseus might come among the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar, escaping from death and the fates. Then for two nights and two days he was driven about over the swollen waves, and very often his heart foreboded destruction. 390 But when fair-tressed Dawn brought to its birth the third day, then the wind ceased and there was a windless calm, and he caught sight of the shore close at hand, casting a quick glance forward, as he was raised up by a great wave. And even as when most welcome to his children appears the life 395 of a father who lies in sickness, bearing grievous pains, long wasting away, and some cruel god assails him, but then to their joy the gods free him from his woe, so to Odysseus did the land and the wood seem welcome; and he swam on, eager to set foot on the land. 400 But when he was as far away as a man's voice carries when he shouts, and heard the boom of the sea upon the reefs—for the great wave thundered against the dry land, belching upon it in terrible fashion, and all things were wrapped in the foam of the sea; for there were neither harbors where ships might ride, nor road-steads, 405 but projecting headlands, and reefs, and cliffs—then the knees of Odysseus were loosened and his heart melted, and deeply moved he spoke to his own mighty spirit: “Ah me, when Zeus has at length granted me to see the land beyond my hopes, and see, I have prevailed to cleave my way and to cross this gulf, 410 nowhere does there appear a way to come out of the grey sea. For outside are sharp crags, and around them the wave roars foaming, and the rock runs up sheer, and the water is deep close in shore, so that in no way is it possible to plant both feet firmly and escape ruin. 415 Perhaps, were I to seek to land, a great wave may seize me and dash me against the jagged rock, and so my striving will be in vain. But if I swim on yet further in hope of finding shelving beaches and harbors of the sea, I fear lest the storm-wind may catch me up again, 420 and carry me, groaning heavily, over the teeming deep; or lest some god may even send forth upon me some great monster out of the sea—and many such does glorious Amphitrite breed. For I know that the glorious Earth-shaker is filled with wrath against me.” While he pondered thus in mind and heart, 425 a great wave carried him against the rugged shore. There his skin would have been stripped off and his bones broken, had not the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, put a thought in his mind. On he rushed and seized the rock with both hands, and clung to it, groaning, until the great wave went by. 430 Thus then did he escape this wave, but in its backward flow it once more rushed upon him and struck him, and flung him far out in the sea. And just as, when a cuttlefish is dragged from its hole, many pebbles cling to its suckers, even so from his strong hands 435 were bits of skin stripped off against the rocks; and the great wave covered him. Then truly would hapless Odysseus have perished beyond his fate, had not flashing-eyed Athena given him prudence. Making his way out of the surge where it belched upon the shore, he swam outside, looking always toward the land in hope of finding 440 shelving beaches and harbors of the sea. But when, as he swam, he came to the mouth of a fair-flowing river, which seemed to him the best place, since it was smooth of stones, and besides there was shelter from the wind, he knew the river as he flowed forth, and prayed to him in his heart: 445 “Hear me, O king, whoever you are. As to one greatly longed-for do I come to you, seeking to escape out of the sea from the threats of Poseidon. Reverend even in the eyes of the immortal gods is that man who comes as a wanderer, even as I have now come to your stream and to your knees, after many toils. 450 Pity me, then, O king, for I declare that I am your suppliant.” So he spoke, and the god at once stayed his stream, and checked the waves, and made a calm before him, and brought him safely to the mouth of the river. And he let his two knees bend and his strong hands fall, for his spirit was crushed by the sea. 455 And all his flesh was swollen, and sea water flowed in streams up through his mouth and nostrils. So he lay breathless and speechless, with scarcely the strength to move; for terrible weariness had come upon him. But when he revived, and his spirit returned again into his breast, then he loosened from him the veil of the goddess and let it fall into the river that murmured seaward; 460 and the great wave carried it back down the stream, and at once Ino received it in her hands. But Odysseus, going back from the river, sank down in the reeds and kissed the earth, the giver of grain; and deeply moved he spoke to his own mighty spirit: 465 “Ah, woe is me! what is to befall me? What will happen to me at the last? If here in the river bed I keep watch throughout the weary night, I fear that together the bitter frost and the fresh dew may overcome me, when from feebleness I have breathed out my spirit; and the breeze from the river blows cold in the early morning. 470 But if I climb up the slope to the shady wood and lie down to rest in the thick brushwood, in the hope that the cold and weariness might leave me, and if sweet sleep comes over me, I fear lest I become a prey and spoil to wild beasts.” Then, as he pondered, this thing seemed to him the better: 475 he went his way to the wood and found it near the water in a clear space; and he crept beneath two bushes that grew from the same spot, one of thorn and one of olive. Through these the strength of the wet winds could never blow, nor the rays of the bright sun beat, 480 nor could the rain pierce through them, so closely did they grow, intertwining one with the other. Beneath these Odysseus crept and at once gathered with his hands a broad bed, for fallen leaves were there in plenty, enough to shelter two men or three 485 in winter-time, however bitter the weather. And the much-enduring goodly Odysseus saw it, and was glad, and he lay down in the middle, and heaped the fallen leaves over him. And as a man hides a brand beneath the dark embers in an outlying farm, a man who has no neighbors, 490 and so saves a seed of fire, so that he may not have to kindle it from some other source, so Odysseus covered himself with leaves. And Athena shed sleep upon his eyes, that it might enfold his lids and speedily free him from toilsome weariness.
6So he lay there asleep, the much-enduring goodly Odysseus, overcome with sleep and weariness; but Athena went to the land and city of the Phaeacians. These dwelt of old in spacious Hypereia 5 close by the Cyclopes, men overweening in pride who plundered them continually and were mightier than they. From there Nausithous, the godlike, had removed them, and led and settled them in Scheria far from men that live by toil. About the city he had drawn a wall, he had built houses 10 and made temples for the gods, and divided the ploughlands; but he, before now, had been stricken by fate and had gone to the house of Hades, and Alcinous was now king, made wise in counsel by the gods. To his house went the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, to contrive the return of great-hearted Odysseus. 15 She went to a chamber, richly wrought, in which slept a maiden like the immortal goddesses in form and comeliness, Nausicaa, the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous; close by slept two hand-maidens, gifted with beauty by the Graces, one on either side of the door-posts, and the bright doors were shut. 20 But like a breath of air the goddess sped to the couch of the maiden, and stood above her head, and spoke to her, taking the form of the daughter of Dymas, famed for his ships, a girl who was of the same age as Nausicaa, and was dear to her heart. Likening herself to her, the flashing-eyed Athena spoke and said: 25 “Nausicaa, how is it that your mother bore you so heedless? Your bright clothing is lying uncared for; yet your marriage is near at hand, when you must yourself be clad in fair garments, and give other such to those who escort you. It is from things like these, you know, that good report goes up among men, 30 and the father and honored mother rejoice. Come, let us go to wash them at break of day, for I will follow with you to aid you, that you may with speed make yourself ready; for you will not long remain a maiden. Even now you have suitors in the land, the noblest 35 of all the Phaeacians, from whom is your own lineage. Come, rouse your noble father early this morning so that he may make ready mules and a wagon for you, to carry the girdles and robes and bright coverlets. And for yourself, too, it is far more fitting 40 to go thus than on foot, for the washing tanks are far from the city.” So saying, the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, departed to Olympus, where, they say, is the abode of the gods that stands fast forever. Neither is it shaken by winds nor ever wet with rain, nor does snow fall on it, but the air 45 is outspread clear and cloudless, and over it hovers a radiant whiteness. There the blessed gods are glad all their days, and there went the flashing-eyed one, when she had spoken all her word to the maiden. At once then came fair-throned Dawn and awakened Nausicaa of the beautiful robes, and immediately she marvelled at her dream, 50 and went through the house to tell her parents, her father dear and her mother; and she found them both within. The mother sat at the hearth with her handmaidens, spinning the yarn of purple dye, and her father she met as he was going out to join the glorious kings 55 in the place of council, to which the lordly Phaeacians called him. But she came up close to her dear father, and said: “Papa dear, will you not make ready for me a wagon, high and stout of wheel, so that I may take to the river for washing the fine clothing of mine which is lying here soiled? 60 Moreover for yourself it is fitting that when you are at council with the princes you should have clean clothing on you; and you have five sons living in your halls—two are married, but three are sturdy bachelors—and these always wish to put on freshly-washed clothing, 65 when they go to the dance. Of all this I must take thought.” So she spoke, for she was ashamed to name joyful marriage to her father; but he understood all, and answered, saying: “Neither the mules do I begrudge you, my child, nor anything else. Go your way; the slaves shall make ready for you the wagon, 70 high and stout of wheel and fitted with a box above.” With this he called to the slaves, and they listened. Outside the palace they made ready the light-running mule wagon, and led up the mules and yoked them to it; and the maiden brought from her chamber the bright clothing, 75 and placed it on the polished wagon, while her mother put in a chest food of all sorts to satisfy the heart. In it she put delicacies, and poured wine in a goat-skin flask; and the maiden mounted the wagon. Her mother gave her also soft olive oil in a flask of gold, 80 that she and her maidens might have it for the bath. Then Nausicaa took the whip and the bright reins, and struck the mules to start them; and there was a clatter of the mules as they sped on with all speed, bearing the clothing and the maiden; nor did she go alone, for with her went her handmaids as well. 85 Now when they came to the beautiful streams of the river, where were the washing tanks that never failed—for abundant clear water welled up from beneath and flowed over, to cleanse garments however soiled—there they loosed the mules from under the wagon and drove them along the eddying river 90 to graze on the honey-sweet water-grass, and themselves took in their arms the clothing from the wagon, and carried it into the dark water, and trampled it in the trenches, busily vying with one another. Now when they had washed the garments, and had cleansed them of all the stains, they spread them out in rows on the shore of the sea where 95 the waves dashing against the land washed the pebbles cleanest; and they, after they had bathed and anointed themselves richly with oil, took their meal on the river's banks, and waited for the clothing to dry in the bright sunshine. Then when they had had their joy of food, she and her handmaids, 100 they threw off their head-gear and fell to playing at ball, and white-armed Nausicaa was leader in the song. And even as Artemis, the archer, roves over the mountains, along the ridges of lofty Taygetus or Erymanthus, delighting in the pursuit of boars and swift deer, 105 and with her sport the wood-nymphs, the daughters of Zeus who bears the aegis, and Leto is glad at heart—high above them all Artemis holds her head and brows, and easily may she be known, though all are fair—so amid her handmaidens shone the maid unwed. 110 But when she was about to yoke the mules, and fold the fair clothing, in order to return homeward, then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, took other counsel, that Odysseus might awake and see the fair-faced maid, who would lead him to the city of the Phaeacians. 115 So then the princess tossed the ball to one of her maidens; the maiden indeed she missed, but cast it into a deep eddy, and at this they cried aloud, and goodly Odysseus awoke, and sat up, and thus he pondered in mind and heart: “Woe is me! to the land of what mortals have I now come? 120 Are they cruel, and wild, and unjust? or do they love strangers and fear the gods in their thoughts? There rang in my ears a cry as of maidens, of nymphs who haunt the towering peaks of the mountains, the springs that feed the rivers, and the grassy meadows! 125 Can it be that I am somewhere near men of human speech? No, I will myself make trial and see.” So saying the goodly Odysseus came out from beneath the bushes, and with his stout hand he broke from the thick wood a leafy branch, that he might hold it about him and hide his nakedness with it. 130 Out he came like a mountain-nurtured lion trusting in his might, who goes out, beaten with rain and wind, but his two eyes are ablaze: into the midst of the cattle he goes, or of the sheep, or on the track of the wild deer, and his belly bids him go even into the close-built fold, to make an attack on the flocks. 135 Even so Odysseus was about to enter the company of the fair-tressed maidens, naked though he was, for need had come upon him. But terrible did he seem to them, all befouled with brine, and they shrank in fear, one here, one there, along the jutting sand-spits. Alone the daughter of Alcinous kept her place, for 140 in her heart Athena put courage, and took fear from her limbs. She did not flee, but stood and faced him; and Odysseus pondered whether he should clasp the knees of the fair-faced maid, and make his prayer, or whether, standing apart as he was, he should beseech her with gentle words, in hope that she might show him the city and give him clothing. 145 And, as he pondered, it seemed to him better to stand apart and beseech her with gentle words, lest the maiden's heart should be angry with him if he clasped her knees; so at once he spoke a gentle word and crafty: “I beseech you, O queen,—are you a goddess, or are you mortal? 150 If you are a goddess, one of those who hold broad heaven, to Artemis, the daughter of great Zeus, do I liken you most nearly in comeliness and in stature and in form. But if you are one of mortals who dwell on the earth, thrice-blessed then are your father and your honored mother, 155 and thrice-blessed your brothers. Truly, I think, their hearts are always warmed with joy because of you, as they see you entering the dance, a plant so fair. But he again is blessed in heart above all others, who shall prevail with his gifts of wooing and lead you to his home. 160 For never yet have my eyes looked on a mortal such as you, whether man or woman; amazement holds me as I look on you. In truth in Delos once I saw such a thing, a young shoot of a palm springing up beside the altar of Apollo—for there, too, I went, and many people followed with me, 165 on that journey on which evil woes were to be my portion;—even so, when I saw that, I marvelled long at heart, for never yet did such a tree spring up from the earth. And in like manner, lady, do I marvel at you, and am amazed, and fear greatly to touch your knees; but deep grief has come upon me. 170 Yesterday, on the twentieth day, I escaped from the wine-dark sea, but always until then the wave and the swift winds bore me from the island of Ogygia; and now fate has cast me ashore here, that here too, perhaps, I may suffer some ill. For not yet, I think, will my troubles cease, but the gods before that will bring many to pass. 175 O queen, have pity; for it is to you first that I have come after many grievous toils, and of the others who possess this city and land I do not know one. Show me the city, and give me some rag to throw about me, if you had any wrapping for the clothes when you came here. 180 And for yourself, may the gods grant you all that your heart desires; a husband and a home may they grant you, and oneness of heart—a precious gift. For nothing is greater or better than this, when man and wife dwell in a home in one accord, a great grief to their foes 185 and a joy to their friends; but they know it best themselves.” Then white-armed Nausicaa answered him: “Stranger, since you seem to be neither an evil man nor a witless one, and it is Zeus himself, the Olympian, that gives happy fortune to men, both to the good and the evil, to each man as he wills; 190 so to you, I think, he has given this lot, and you must in any case endure it. But now, since you have come to our city and land, you shall not lack clothing or anything else of those things which befit a sorely tried suppliant when he comes in the way. The city I will show you, and will tell you the name of the people. 195 The Phaeacians possess this city and land, and I am the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous, on whom depend the might and power of the Phaeacians.” She spoke, and called to her fair-tressed handmaids: “Stand, my maidens. Where are you fleeing at the sight of a man? 200 You do not think, surely, that he is an enemy? That mortal man does not live or exist, nor shall ever be born, who shall come to the land of the Phaeacians as a foe, for we are very dear to the immortals. Far off we dwell in the surging sea, 205 the farthest of men, and no other mortals have dealings with us. No, this is some hapless wanderer that has come here. Him we must now tend; for from Zeus are all strangers and beggars, and a gift, though small, is welcome. Come, then, my maidens, give to the stranger food and drink, 210 and bathe him in the river in a spot where there is shelter from the wind.” So she spoke, and they halted and called to each other. Then they set Odysseus in a sheltered place, as Nausicaa, the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous, ordered, and beside him they put a cloak and a tunic for clothing, 215 and gave him soft olive oil in the flask of gold, and told him to bathe in the streams of the river. Then among the maidens spoke goodly Odysseus: “Maidens, stand apart over there, that by myself I may wash the brine from my shoulders, and 220 anoint myself with olive oil; for in truth it is long since oil came near my skin. But in your presence I will not bathe, for I am ashamed to make myself naked in the midst of fair-tressed maidens.” So he said, and they went apart and told the princess. But with water from the river goodly Odysseus washed from his skin 225 the brine which clothed his back and broad shoulders, and from his head he wiped the scurf of the unresting sea. But when he had washed his whole body and anointed himself with oil, and had put on the clothing which the unwedded maid had given him, then Athena, the daughter of Zeus, made him 230 taller to look upon and mightier, and from his head she made the locks to flow in curls like the hyacinth flower. And as when a man overlays silver with gold, a skilled workman whom Hephaestus and Pallas Athena have taught all manner of craft, and full of grace is the work he produces, 235 even so the goddess shed grace upon his head and shoulders. Then he went apart and sat down on the shore of the sea, gleaming with beauty and grace; and the maiden marvelled at him, and spoke to her fair-tressed handmaids, saying: “Listen, white-armed maidens, that I may say something. 240 Not without the will of all the gods who hold Olympus does this man come among the godlike Phaeacians. Before he seemed to me uncouth, but now he is like the gods, who hold broad heaven. Would that a man such as he might be called my husband, 245 dwelling here, and that it might please him to remain here. But come, my maidens; give to the stranger food and drink.” So she spoke, and they readily listened and obeyed, and set before Odysseus food and drink. Then indeed the much-enduring goodly Odysseus drank and ate, 250 ravenously; for long had he been without taste of food. But the white-armed Nausicaa took other counsel. She folded the clothing and put it in the fair wagon, and yoked the stout-hoofed mules, and mounted the wagon herself. Then she hailed Odysseus, and spoke and addressed him: 255 “Rouse yourself now, stranger, to go to the city, that I may escort you to the house of my wise father, where, I tell you, you will come to know all the noblest of the Phaeacians. Only do this, and, I think, you do not lack understanding: so long as we are passing through the country and the tilled fields of men go quickly 260 with the handmaids behind the mules and the wagon, and I will lead the way. But when we are about to enter the city, around which runs a lofty wall,—a fair harbor lies on either side of the city and the entrance is narrow, and curved ships 265 are drawn up along the road, for they all have stations for their ships, each man one for himself. There, too, is their place of assembly about the fair temple of Poseidon, fitted with huge stones set deep in the earth. Here the men are busied with the tackle of their black ships, with cables and sails, and here they shape the thin oar-blades. 270 For the Phaeacians do not care for bow or quiver, but for masts and oars of ships, and for the shapely ships, rejoicing in which they cross over the grey sea. It is their ungentle speech that I shun, lest hereafter some man should taunt me, for indeed there are insolent folk in the land, 275 and thus might some baser fellow say, should he meet us: ‘Who is this that follows Nausicaa, a comely man and tall, a stranger? Where did she find him? He will doubtless be a husband for her. Perhaps she has brought from his ship some wanderer of a folk that dwell far away—for none are near us— 280 or some god, long prayed-for, has come down from heaven in answer to her prayers, and she will have him as her husband all her days. Better so, even if she has herself gone out and found a husband from another people; for in truth she scorns the Phaeacians here in the land, where she has suitors many and noble!’ 285 So will they say, and this would become a reproach to me. Indeed, I would myself blame another maiden who did such a thing, and in defiance of her dear father and mother, while they still live, should consort with men before the day of open marriage. No, stranger, listen quickly to my words, that with all speed 290 you may win from my father an escort and a return to your land. You will find a fine grove of Athena close by the road, a grove of poplar trees. In it a spring wells up, and round about is a meadow. There is my father's park and fruitful vineyard, as far from the city as a man's voice carries when he shouts. 295 Sit down there, and wait for a time, until we come to the city and reach the house of my father. But when you think that we have reached the house, then go to the city of the Phaeacians and ask for the house of my father, great-hearted Alcinous. 300 Easily may it be known, and a child could guide you, a mere babe; for the houses of the Phaeacians are in no way built like the palace of the lord Alcinous. But when the house and the court enclose you, pass quickly through the great hall, until you come 305 to my mother, who sits at the hearth in the light of the fire, spinning the purple yarn, a wonder to behold, leaning against a pillar, and her handmaids sit behind her. There, too, leaning against the selfsame pillar, is set the throne of my father, on which he sits and quaffs his wine, like an immortal. 310 Pass him by, and cast your hands about my mother's knees, that you may quickly see with rejoicing the day of your return, however far you have come. If in her sight you win favour, then there is hope that you will see your friends, and return 315 to your well-built house and to your native land.” So saying, she struck the mules with the shining whip, and they quickly left the streams of the river. Well did they trot, well did they ply their ambling feet, and she drove with care that 320 the maidens and Odysseus might follow on foot, and with judgment did she ply the lash. Then the sun set, and they came to the glorious grove, sacred to Athena. There Odysseus sat down, and at once prayed to the daughter of great Zeus: “Hear me, child of aegis-bearing Zeus, unwearied one. 325 Listen now to my prayer, since before you did not listen when I was struck down, at the time when the glorious Earth-shaker struck me. Grant that I may come to the Phaeacians as one to be welcomed and to be pitied.” So he spoke in prayer, and Pallas Athena heard him; but she did not yet appear to him face to face, for she feared 330 her father's brother; but he furiously raged against godlike Odysseus, until at length he reached his own land.
7So he prayed there, the much-enduring goodly Odysseus, while the two strong mules bore the maiden to the city. But when she had come to the glorious palace of her father, she halted the mules at the outer gate, and her brothers 5 thronged about her, men like the immortals, and loosed the mules from the wagon, and carried the clothing inside; and she herself went to her chamber. There a fire was kindled for her by her waiting-woman, Eurymedusa, an old woman from Apeire. Long ago the curved ships had brought her from Apeire, 10 and men had chosen her from the spoil as a gift of honor for Alcinous, because he was king over all the Phaeacians, and the people listened to him as to a god. She it was who had reared the white-armed Nausicaa in the palace, and she it was who kindled the fire for her, and prepared her supper in the chamber. Then Odysseus roused himself to go to the city, and Athena, 15 with kindly purpose, cast about him a thick mist, that no one of the great-hearted Phaeacians, meeting him, should speak mockingly to him, and ask him who he was. But when he was about to enter the lovely city, then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, met him 20 in the guise of a young maiden carrying a pitcher, and she stood before him; and goodly Odysseus questioned her, saying: “My child, could you not guide me to the house of him they call Alcinous, who is lord among the people here? For I have come here a stranger, hard-tried, 25 from afar, from a distant country; so I know no one of the people who possess this city and land.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: “Then indeed, stranger, I will show you the palace as you ask me, for it lies close by the house of my own noble father. 30 Only go quietly, and I will lead the way. But do not turn your eyes upon any man nor question any, for the men here do not tolerate strangers, nor do they give kindly welcome to him who comes from another land. They, indeed, trusting in the speed of their swift ships, 35 cross over the great gulf of the sea, for this the Earth-shaker has granted them; and their ships are swift as a bird on the wing or as a thought.” So speaking, Pallas Athena led the way quickly, and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess. 40 And as he went through the city in the midst of them, the Phaeacians, famed for their ships, took no heed of him, for fair-tressed Athena, the dread goddess, would not allow it, but shed about him a wondrous mist, for her heart was kind toward him. And Odysseus marvelled at the harbors and the stately ships, at the meeting-places where the heroes themselves gathered, and the walls, long and 45 high and crowned with palisades, a wonder to behold. But when they had come to the glorious palace of the king, the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, was the first to speak, saying: “Here, stranger, is the house which you asked me to show you, and you will find the kings, fostered by Zeus, 50 feasting at the banquet. Go inside, and let your heart fear nothing; for a bold man is better in all things, even if he is a stranger from another land. The queen you shall approach first in the palace; Arete is the name by which she is called, 55 and she is sprung from the same line as is the king Alcinous. Nausithous at the first was born from the earth-shaker Poseidon and Periboea, the most beautiful of women, youngest daughter of great-hearted Eurymedon, who once was king over the insolent Giants. 60 But he brought destruction on his wayward people, and was himself destroyed. But with Periboea lay Poseidon and fathered a son, great-hearted Nausithous, who ruled over the Phaeacians; and Nausithous fathered Rhexenor and Alcinous. Rhexenor, while he still had no son, Apollo of the silver bow struck 65 in his hall, a bridegroom though he was, and he left only one daughter, Arete. Her Alcinous made his wife, and honored her as no other woman on earth is honored, of all those who in these days direct their households in subjection to their husbands; so heartily is she honored, 70 and has always been, by her children and by Alcinous himself and by the people, who look upon her as upon a goddess, and greet her as she goes through the city. For she of herself is in no way lacking in good understanding, and for the women to whom she has good will she makes an end of strife even among their husbands. 75 If in her sight you win favour, then there is hope that you will see your friends, and return to your high-roofed house and to your native land.” So saying, flashing-eyed Athena departed over the unresting sea, and left lovely Scheria. 80 She came to Marathon and broad-wayed Athens, and entered the well-built house of Erectheus; but Odysseus went to the glorious palace of Alcinous. There he stood, and his heart pondered much before he reached the threshold of bronze; for there was a gleam as of sun or moon 85 over the high-roofed house of great-hearted Alcinous. Of bronze were the walls that stretched this way and that from the threshold to the innermost chamber, and around was a cornice of cyanus. Golden were the doors that shut in the well-built house, and doorposts of silver were set in a threshold of bronze. 90 Of silver was the lintel above, and of gold the handle. On either side of the door there stood gold and silver dogs, which Hephaestus had fashioned with great skill to guard the palace of great-hearted Alcinous; immortal were they and ageless all their days. 95 Within, seats were fixed along the wall on either hand, from the threshold to the innermost chamber, and on them were thrown robes of soft fabric, skillfully woven, the handiwork of women. On these the leaders of the Phaeacians used to sit drinking and eating, for they had unfailing store. 100 And golden youths stood on well-built pedestals, holding lighted torches in their hands to give light by night to the banqueters in the hall. And fifty slave-women he had in the house, of whom some grind the yellow grain on the millstone, 105 and others weave webs, or, as they sit, twirl the yarn, like the leaves of a tall poplar tree; and from the closely-woven linen the soft olive oil drips down. For as the Phaeacian men are skilled above all others in speeding a swift ship upon the sea, so are the women 110 skilled workers at the loom, for Athena has given to them above all others skill in fair handiwork, and an understanding heart. But outside the courtyard, close by the door, is a great orchard of four acres, and a hedge runs about it on either side. In it grow trees, tall and luxuriant, 115 pears and pomegranates and apple-trees with their bright fruit, and sweet figs, and luxuriant olives. Of these the fruit never perishes nor fails in winter or in summer, but lasts throughout the year; and always the west wind, as it blows, quickens to life some fruits, and ripens others; 120 pear upon pear grows ripe, apple upon apple, cluster upon cluster, and fig upon fig. There, too, is his fruitful vineyard planted, one part of which, a warm spot on level ground, is being dried in the sun, while other grapes men are gathering, 125 and others, too, they are treading; but in front are unripe grapes that are shedding the blossom, and others that are turning purple. There again, by the last row of the vines, grow trim garden beds of every sort, blooming the year through, and in it are two springs, one of which sends its water throughout all the garden, 130 while the other, opposite it, flows beneath the threshold of the court toward the high house; from this the townsfolk drew their water. Such were the glorious gifts of the gods in the palace of Alcinous. There the much-enduring goodly Odysseus stood and gazed. But when he had marvelled in his heart at all things, 135 he passed quickly over the threshold into the house. There he found the leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians pouring libations from their cups to the keen-sighted Argeiphontes, to whom it was their custom to pour the wine last of all, when they intended to go to their rest. But the much-enduring goodly Odysseus went through the hall, 140 wrapped in the thick mist which Athena had shed about him, till he came to Arete and to Alcinous the king. About the knees of Arete Odysseus cast his hands, and at once the wondrous mist melted from him, and a hush fell upon all who were in the room at sight of the man, 145 and they marvelled as they looked upon him. But Odysseus made his prayer: “Arete, daughter of godlike Rhexenor, to your husband and to your knees I have come after many toils,—yes, and to these banqueters, to whom may the gods grant happiness in life, and may each of them hand down to his children 150 the wealth in his halls, and the dues of honor which the people have given him. But for me, speed my sending, that I may come to my native land, and that quickly; for a long time I have been suffering woes far from my friends.” So saying he sat down on the hearth in the ashes by the fire, and they were all hushed in silence. 155 But at length there spoke among them the old lord Echeneus, who was an elder among the Phaeacians, well skilled in speech, and understanding all the wisdom of old. He with good intent addressed the assembly, and said: “Alcinous, this is not the better way, nor is it fitting, 160 that a stranger should sit upon the ground on the hearth in the ashes; but these others hold back waiting for your word. Come, make the stranger rise, and set him upon a silver-studded chair, and tell the heralds to mix wine, 165 that we may pour libations also to Zeus, who hurls the thunderbolt; for he always attends upon reverend suppliants. And let the housekeeper give supper to the stranger from the store that is in the house.” When the strong and mighty Alcinous heard this, he took by the hand Odysseus, the wise and crafty-minded, and raised him from the hearth, and set him upon a bright chair 170 from which he told his son, the kindly Laodamas, to rise; for he sat next to him, and was his most beloved. Then a handmaid brought water for the hands in a fair pitcher of gold, and poured it over a silver basin, for him to wash, and beside him drew up a polished table. 175 And the grave housekeeper brought and set before him bread, and with it delicacies in abundance, giving freely of her store. So the much-enduring goodly Odysseus drank and ate; and then the mighty Alcinous spoke to the herald, and said: “Pontonous, mix the bowl, and serve wine 180 to all in the hall, that we may pour libations also to Zeus, who hurls the thunderbolt; for he always attends upon reverend suppliants.” He spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine, and served out to all, pouring first drops for libation into the cups. But when they had poured libations, and had drunk to their heart's content, 185 Alcinous addressed the assembly, and spoke among them: “Listen to me, leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians, that I may say what the heart in my breast bids me. Now that you have finished your feast, go each of you to his house to rest. But in the morning we will call more of the elders together, 190 and will entertain the stranger in our halls and offer fine victims to the gods. After that we will take thought also of his sending, that without toil or pain this stranger may, under our sending, come to his native land speedily and with rejoicing, however far he may come from. 195 Nor shall he meanwhile suffer any evil or harm, until he sets foot upon his own land; but after that he shall suffer whatever Fate and the dread Spinners spun with their thread for him at his birth, when his mother bore him. But if he is one of the immortals come down from heaven, 200 then this is some new thing which the gods are planning; for always until now they have been accustomed to appear to us in manifest form, when we sacrifice to them glorious hecatombs, and they feast among us, sitting even where we sit. Yes, and if one of us as a lone wayfarer meets them, 205 they use no concealment, for we are near kin to them, as are the Cyclopes and the wild tribes of the Giants.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Alcinous, far from you be that thought; for I am not like the immortals, who hold broad heaven, 210 either in stature or in form, but like mortal men. Whoever you know among men who bear the greatest burden of woe, to them might I liken myself in my sorrows. Indeed, I could tell a yet longer tale of all the evils which I have endured by the will of the gods. 215 But as for me, allow me now to eat, despite my grief; for there is nothing more shameless than a hateful belly, which forces a man to take thought of it, however deeply he is distressed and laden with grief at heart, even as I, too, am laden with grief at heart, yet always my belly 220 bids me eat and drink, and makes me forget all that I have suffered, and commands me to eat my fill. But make haste at break of day, that you may set me, hapless one, on the soil of my native land, even after my many woes. Indeed, let life leave me, when I have seen once more 225 my possessions, my slaves, and my great high-roofed house.” So he spoke, and they all praised his words, and urged that the stranger be sent on his way, since he had spoken fittingly. Then when they had poured libations, and had drunk to their heart's content, they went each man to his home, to take their rest, 230 and goodly Odysseus was left behind in the hall, and beside him sat Arete and godlike Alcinous; and the handmaids cleared away the dishes of the feast. Then white-armed Arete was the first to speak; for, as she saw it, she recognized his 235 fine clothing, the mantle and tunic, which she herself had made with her handmaids. And she spoke, and addressed him with winged words: “Stranger, this question I will myself ask you first. Who are you among men, and from where? Who gave you this clothing? Did you not say that you came here wandering over the sea?” 240 Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “It would be hard, O queen, to tell to the end the tale of my woes, since very many have the heavenly gods given me. But this I will tell you, which you ask and inquire about. There is an island, Ogygia, which lies far off in the sea. 245 There dwells the fair-tressed daughter of Atlas, guileful Calypso, a dread goddess, and with her no one either of gods or mortals has anything to do; but me in my wretchedness fate brought to her hearth alone, for Zeus had struck my swift ship with his bright thunderbolt, 250 and had shattered it in the midst of the wine-dark sea. There all the rest of my trusty comrades perished, but I clasped in my arms the keel of my curved ship and was borne drifting for nine days, and on the tenth black night the gods brought me to the island, Ogygia, where 255 the fair-tressed Calypso dwells, a dread goddess. She took me to her home with kindly welcome, and gave me food, and said that she would make me immortal and ageless all my days; but she could never persuade the heart in my breast. There for the space of seven years I remained continually, and always 260 with my tears I would wet the immortal clothing which Calypso gave me. But when the eighth year came in circling course, then she roused me and told me to go, either because of some message from Zeus, or because her own mind was turned. And she sent me on my way on a raft, stoutly bound, and gave me abundant store 265 of bread and sweet wine, and clothed me in immortal clothing, and sent forth a gentle wind and warm. So for seventeen days I sailed over the sea, and on the eighteenth appeared the shadowy mountains of your land; and my heart was glad, 270 ill-starred that I was; for truly I was still to have fellowship with great woe, which Poseidon, the earth-shaker, sent upon me. For he stirred up the winds against me and checked my course, and wondrously roused the sea, nor would the wave allow me to be borne upon my raft, as I groaned ceaselessly. 275 My raft indeed the storm shattered, but by swimming I cut my way through that gulf of the sea, until the wind and the waves, as they bore me, brought me to your shores. There, had I sought to land, the waves would have hurled me upon the shore, and dashed me against the great crags and a cheerless place, 280 but I gave way, and swam back until I came to a river, which seemed to me the best place, since it was free of rocks, and besides there was shelter from the wind. Then I staggered out, and sank down, gasping for breath, and immortal night came on. Then I went out from the heaven-fed river, 285 and lay down to sleep in the bushes, gathering leaves about me; and a god shed over me infinite sleep. So there among the leaves I slept, my heart deeply stricken, the whole night through, until the morning and until midday; and the sun turned to his setting before sweet sleep released me. 290 Then I saw the handmaids of your daughter on the shore at play, and amid them was she, fair as the goddesses. To her I made my prayer; and she in no way failed in good understanding, to do as you would not think that one of younger years would do on meeting you; for younger people are always thoughtless. 295 She gave bread in plenty and sparkling wine, and bathed me in the river, and gave me this clothing. In this, for all my sorrows, I have told you the truth.” Then in turn Alcinous answered him, and said: “Stranger, truly my daughter was not rightly minded in this, 300 that she did not bring you to our house with her maidens. Yet it was to her first that you made your prayer.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Prince, do not rebuke for this, I beg you, your blameless daughter. She did indeed tell me to follow with her maidens, 305 but I would not for fear and shame, lest perhaps your heart should darken with wrath as you saw it; for we are quick to anger, we tribes of men upon the earth.” And again Alcinous answered him, and said: “Stranger, not such is the heart in my breast, 310 to be filled with wrath without a cause. Better is due measure in all things. I wish, O father Zeus, and Athena and Apollo, that you, so fine a man, and like-minded with me, would have my daughter to wife, and be called my son, and stay here; a house and possessions I would give you, 315 if you should choose to remain, but against your will no one of the Phaeacians shall keep you; may that not be the will of father Zeus. But as for your sending, so that you may know it surely, I appoint a time for it, namely tomorrow. Then you shall lie down, overcome by sleep, and they shall row you over the calm sea until you come 320 to your country and your house, or to whatever place you wish, yes, even if it is far beyond Euboea, which those of our people who saw it, when they carried fair-haired Rhadamanthus to visit Tityus, the son of Gaea, say is the furthest of lands. 325 There they went, and without toil accomplished their journey, and on the same day came back home. So you too shall know for yourself how far my ships are the best, and my youths at tossing the brine with the oar-blade.” So he said, and the much-enduring goodly Odysseus was glad; 330 and he spoke in prayer, and said: “Father Zeus, grant that Alcinous may bring to pass all that he has said. So shall his fame be unquenchable over the earth, the giver of grain, and I shall reach my native land.” Thus they spoke to one another, 335 and white-armed Arete told her maidens to place a bedstead under cover of the portico, and to lay on it fair blankets of purple, and to spread coverlets over them, and on these to put fleecy cloaks for clothing. So they went out from the hall with torches in their hands. 340 But when they had busily spread the stout-built bedstead, they came to Odysseus, and called to him, and said: “Rouse yourself now, stranger, to go to your rest; your bed is made.” Thus they spoke, and welcome did it seem to him to lie down to sleep. So there he slept, the much-enduring goodly Odysseus, 345 on the corded bedstead under the echoing portico. But Alcinous lay down in the inmost chamber of the lofty house, and beside him lay the lady his wife, who had spread the couch.
8As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, the strong and mighty Alcinous rose from his couch, and up rose also Zeus-born Odysseus, the sacker of cities. And the strong and mighty Alcinous led the way 5 to the place of assembly of the Phaeacians, which was built for them close by their ships. There they came and sat down on the polished stones close by one another; and Pallas Athena went throughout the city, in the likeness of the herald of wise Alcinous, devising a return for great-hearted Odysseus. 10 To each man's side she came, and spoke and said: “Come here now, leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians, come to the place of assembly, that you may learn of the stranger who has newly come to the palace of wise Alcinous after his wanderings over the sea, and in form is like the immortals.” 15 So saying she roused the spirit and heart of each man, and quickly the place of assembly and the seats were filled with men that gathered. And many marvelled at the sight of the wise son of Laertes, for wondrous was the grace that Athena shed upon his head and shoulders; 20 and she made him taller and sturdier to behold, that he might be welcomed by all the Phaeacians, and win awe and reverence, and might accomplish the many feats in which the Phaeacians made trial of Odysseus. Now when they were assembled and met together, 25 Alcinous addressed their assembly and spoke among them: “Listen to me, leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians, that I may speak what the heart in my breast bids me. This stranger—I do not know who he is—has come to my house in his wanderings, whether from men of the east or of the west. 30 He urges that he be sent on his way, and prays for assurance, and let us on our part, as of old was our custom, speed on his sending; for truly no man whatever who comes to my house remains here long in sorrow for lack of sending. No, come, let us draw a black ship down to the bright sea 35 for her first voyage, and let men choose fifty-two youths from among the people, those that have before now been the best. And when you have all duly lashed the oars to the thole-pins, go ashore, and then go your way to my house, and prepare a feast with speed; and I will provide bountifully for all. 40 To the youths this is my command, but you others, the sceptred kings, come to my fair palace, that we may entertain this stranger in the halls; and let no man refuse me. And summon here the divine minstrel, Demodocus; for to him above all others has the god granted skill in song, 45 to give delight in whatever way his spirit prompts him to sing.” So saying, he led the way, and the sceptred kings followed him, while a herald went for the divine minstrel. And chosen youths, fifty-two, went, as he ordered, to the shore of the unresting sea. 50 And when they had come down to the ship and to the sea, they drew the black ship down to the deep water, and placed the mast and sail in the black ship, and fitted the oars in the leather thole-straps, all in due order, and spread the white sail. 55 Well out in the roadstead they moored the ship, and then went their way to the great palace of the wise Alcinous. Filled were the porticoes and courts and rooms with the men that gathered, for many there were, both young and old. For them Alcinous slaughtered twelve sheep, 60 and eight white-tusked boars, and two oxen of shambling gait. These they flayed and dressed, and made ready a fine feast. Then the herald drew near, leading the good minstrel, whom the Muse loved above all other men, and gave him both good and evil; of his sight she deprived him, but gave him the gift of sweet song. 65 For him Pontonous, the herald, set a silver-studded chair in the midst of the banqueters, leaning it against a tall pillar, and he hung the clear-toned lyre from a peg close above his head, and showed him how to reach it with his hands. And beside him he placed a basket and a beautiful table, 70 and a cup of wine, to drink when his heart should bid him. So they put out their hands to the good cheer lying ready before them. But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, the Muse moved the minstrel to sing of the glorious deeds of warriors, from that lay whose fame had then reached broad heaven, 75 the quarrel of Odysseus and Achilles, son of Peleus, how once they strove with furious words at a rich feast of the gods, and Agamemnon, king of men, was glad at heart that the best of the Achaeans were quarrelling; for so Phoebus Apollo, in giving his response, had told him that it would be, 80 in sacred Pytho, when he passed over the threshold of stone to enquire of the oracle. For then the beginning of woe was rolling upon Trojans and Danaans through the will of great Zeus. This song the famous minstrel sang; but Odysseus grasped his great purple cloak with his stout hands, 85 and drew it down over his head, and hid his comely face; for he felt shame before the Phaeacians as he let fall tears from beneath his eyebrows. Indeed, as often as the divine minstrel ceased his singing, Odysseus would wipe away his tears and draw the cloak from off his head, and taking the two-handled cup would pour libations to the gods. 90 But as often as he began again, and the nobles of the Phaeacians urged him to sing, because they took pleasure in his lay, Odysseus would again cover his head and moan. Now from all the rest he concealed the tears that he shed, but Alcinous alone noticed him and took heed, 95 for he sat by him, and heard him groaning heavily. And at once he spoke among the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar: “Hear me, you leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians, already have we satisfied our hearts with the equal banquet and with the lyre, which is the companion of the rich feast. 100 But now let us go out, and make trial of all kinds of games, that this stranger may tell his friends, when he returns home, how far we excel other men in boxing and wrestling and leaping and in speed of foot.” So saying, he led the way, and they followed him. 105 From the peg the herald hung the clear-toned lyre, and took Demodocus by the hand, and led him out of the hall, guiding him by the very same road by which the others, the nobles of the Phaeacians, had gone to gaze upon the games. They went their way to the place of assembly, and with them went a great throng, 110 past counting; and up rose many noble youths. There rose Acroneus, and Ocyalus, and Elatreus, and Nauteus, and Prymneus, and Anchialus, and Eretmeus, and Ponteus, and Proreus, Thoon and Anabesineus, 115 and Amphialus, son of Polyneus, son of Tecton; and up rose also Euryalus, the peer of man-destroying Ares, the son of Naubolus, who in comeliness and form was the best of all the Phaeacians after peerless Laodamas; and up rose the three sons of noble Alcinous, Laodamas, and Halius, and godlike Clytoneus. 120 These then first made trial in the foot-race. A course was marked out for them from the turning point, and they all sped swiftly, raising the dust of the plain; but among them noble Clytoneus was far the best at running, and by as far as is the range of a team of mules in fallow land, 125 by so far he shot to the front and reached the crowd, and the others were left behind. Then they made trial of toilsome wrestling, and here in turn Euryalus excelled all the princes. And in leaping Amphialus was best of all, and with the discus again far the best of all was Elatreus, 130 and in boxing Laodamas, the good son of Alcinous. But when the hearts of all had taken pleasure in the contests, Laodamas, the son of Alcinous, spoke among them: “Come, friends, let us ask this stranger whether he knows and has learned any contests. In build, surely, he is no mean man, 135 in thighs and calves, and in his two arms above, his stout neck, and his great might. In no way does he lack anything of the strength of youth, but he has been broken by many troubles. For to my mind there is nothing worse than the sea to confound a man, however strong he may be.” 140 And Euryalus in turn answered him, and said: “Laodamas, this word of yours is very fitly spoken. Go now yourself and challenge him, and make known your word.” Now when the good son of Alcinous heard this he came and took his stand in the midst and spoke to Odysseus: 145 “Come, Sir stranger, you too make trial of the contests, if you know any; and it must be that you know contests, for there is no greater glory for a man so long as he lives than that which he achieves by his own hands and his feet. No, come, make trial, and cast away care from your heart. 150 Your journey shall no more be long delayed; even now your ship is launched and the crew is ready.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Laodamas, why do you mock me with this challenge? Sorrow is in my mind far more than contests, 155 seeing that in time past I have suffered much and toiled much, and now I sit in the midst of your assembly, longing for my return home, and making my prayer to the king and to all the people.” Then again Euryalus made answer and taunted him to his face: “No indeed, stranger, for I do not liken you to a man that is skilled 160 in contests, such as abound among men, but to one who, faring to and fro with his benched ship, is a captain of sailors who are merchantmen, one who is mindful of his freight, and has charge of a home-borne cargo, and the gains of his greed. You do not look like an athlete.” 165 Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows Odysseus of many wiles answered him: “Stranger, you have not spoken well; you are like one blind with folly. So true is it that the gods do not give gracious gifts to all alike, not form nor mind nor eloquence. For one man is inferior in comeliness, 170 but the god sets a crown of beauty upon his words, and men look upon him with delight, and he speaks on unfalteringly with sweet modesty, and is conspicuous among the gathered people, and as he goes through the city men gaze upon him as upon a god. Another again is in comeliness like the immortals, 175 but no crown of grace is set about his words. So, in your case, your comeliness is preeminent, nor could a god himself improve it, but in mind you are stunted. You have stirred the spirit in my breast by speaking so rudely. I am not unskilled in sports 180 as you babble; no, I think I was among the first so long as I trusted in my youth and in my hands. But now I am bound by suffering and pains; for much have I endured in passing through wars of men and the grievous waves. But even so, though I have suffered much, I will make trial of the contests, 185 for your word has stung me to the heart, and you have provoked me with your speech.” He spoke, and, leaping up with his cloak about him as it was, seized a discus larger than the rest and thick, no little heavier than those with which the Phaeacians were accustomed to contend with one another. This with a whirl he sent from his stout hand, 190 and the stone hummed as it flew; and down they crouched to the earth, the Phaeacians of the long oars, men famed for their ships, beneath the rush of the stone. Past the marks of all it flew, speeding lightly from his hand, and Athena, in the likeness of a man, set the mark, and she spoke and addressed him: 195 “Even a blind man, stranger, could distinguish this mark, groping for it with his hands, for it is in no way confused with the throng of the others, but is far the first. Be of good cheer for this bout at least: no one of the Phaeacians will reach this, or cast beyond it.” So she spoke, and the much-enduring goodly Odysseus was glad, 200 rejoicing that he saw a true friend in the lists. Then with a lighter heart he spoke among the Phaeacians: “Reach this now, young men; and soon, I think, I will send another after it, as far or even further. Of the rest, if any man's heart and spirit bid him, 205 let him come here and make trial—for you have greatly angered me—whether in boxing or in wrestling, yes, or in running, I do not care; let any one come of all the Phaeacians, except Laodamas alone. For he is my host, and who would quarrel with one that entertains him? Foolish is that man and worthless, 210 who challenges to a contest the host who receives him in a strange land; he only mars his own fortunes. But of all the rest I refuse none, and make light of none, but am eager to know them, and make trial of them man to man. For in all things I am no weakling, in all the contests that are practised among men. 215 Well do I know how to handle the polished bow, and always would I be the first to shoot and strike my man in the throng of the foe, even though many comrades stood by me and were shooting at the men. Only Philoctetes excelled me with the bow 220 in the land of the Trojans, when we Achaeans shot. But of all others I declare that I am best by far, of all mortals that are now upon the earth and eat bread. Yet with men of former days I will not seek to vie, with Heracles or with Eurytus of Oechalia, 225 who strove even with the immortals in archery. That is why great Eurytus died soon, nor did old age come upon him in his halls, for Apollo grew angry and slew him, because he had challenged him to a contest with the bow. And with the spear I throw farther than any other man can shoot with an arrow. 230 In the foot race alone I fear that someone of the Phaeacians may outstrip me, for cruelly have I been broken amid the many waves, since there was in my ship no lasting store of provisions; therefore my limbs are loosened.” So he spoke and they were all hushed in silence; 235 but Alcinous alone answered him and said: “Stranger, since not ungraciously do you speak so in our midst, but are minded to show the prowess which attends you, in anger that that man came up to you in the lists and taunted you in a way in which no mortal would make light of your prowess, 240 who knew in his heart how to speak fitly; come, now, listen to my words, that you may tell to another hero, when in your halls you are feasting with your wife and children, and remember our skill, what feats 245 Zeus has granted to us from our fathers' days until now. For we are not faultless boxers or wrestlers, but in the foot race we run swiftly, and we are the best seamen; and always to us is the banquet dear, and the lyre, and the dance, and changes of clothing, and warm baths, and the couch. 250 But come now, all you that are the best dancers of the Phaeacians, make sport, that the stranger may tell his friends on reaching home how far we surpass others in seamanship and in fleetness of foot, and in the dance and in song. And let one go at once 255 and fetch for Demodocus the clear-toned lyre which lies somewhere in our halls.” So spoke Alcinous the godlike, and the herald rose to fetch the hollow lyre from the palace of the king. Then stood up masters of the lists, nine in all, men chosen from among the people, who in their gatherings were accustomed to order all things rightly. 260 They levelled a place for the dance, and marked out a fair wide ring, and the herald came near, bearing the clear-toned lyre for Demodocus. He then moved into the midst, and around him stood boys in the first bloom of youth, well skilled in the dance, and they struck the fine dancing floor with their feet. And Odysseus 265 gazed at the twinklings of their feet and marvelled in spirit. But the minstrel struck the chords in prelude to his sweet lay and sang of the love of Ares and Aphrodite of the fair crown, how first they lay together in the house of Hephaestus secretly; and Ares gave her many gifts, and shamed the bed 270 of the lord Hephaestus. But at once one came to him with tidings, Helius, who had seen them as they lay together in love. And when Hephaestus heard the grievous tale, he went his way to his smithy, pondering evil in the depths of his heart, and set on the anvil block the great anvil and forged bonds 275 which could not be broken or loosed, that the lovers might stay fast where they were. But when he had fashioned the snare in his wrath against Ares, he went to his chamber where his bed lay, and everywhere round about the bed-posts he spread the bonds, and many too were hung from above, from the roof-beams, 280 fine as spiders' webs, so that no one even of the blessed gods could see them, so exceedingly craftily were they fashioned. But when he had spread all his snare about the couch, he made as though he would go to Lemnos, that well-built citadel, which is in his eyes far the dearest of all lands. 285 And no blind watch did Ares of the golden rein keep, when he saw Hephaestus, famed for his handicraft, departing, but he went his way to the house of famous Hephaestus, eager for the love of Cytherea of the fair crown. Now she had only newly come from the presence of her father, the mighty son of Cronos, 290 and had sat down. And Ares came into the house and clasped her hand and spoke and addressed her: “Come, love, let us go to bed and take our joy, lying together. For Hephaestus is no longer here in the land, but has now gone, I think, to Lemnos, to visit the Sintians of savage speech.” 295 So he spoke, and a welcome thing it seemed to her to lie with him. So the two of them went to the couch, and lay down to sleep, and about them clung the cunning bonds of the wise Hephaestus, nor could they in any way stir their limbs or raise them up. Then at length they learned that there was no more escaping. 300 And near to them came the famous god of the two strong arms, having turned back before he reached the land of Lemnos; for Helius had kept watch for him and had brought him word. So he went to his house with a heavy heart, and stood at the gateway, and fierce anger seized him. 305 And terribly he cried out and called to all the gods: “Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods that are forever, come here that you may see a laughable matter and a monstrous one, how Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, scorns me because I am lame and loves destructive Ares 310 because he is comely and strong of limb, whereas I was born misshapen. Yet for this no one else is to blame but my two parents—if only they had never begotten me! But you shall see where these two have gone up into my bed and sleep together in love; and I am troubled at the sight. 315 Yet, I think, they will not wish to lie longer like this, no, not for a moment, however loving they are. Soon shall both lose their desire to sleep; but the snare and the bonds shall hold them until her father pays back to me all the gifts of wooing that I gave him for the sake of his shameless girl; 320 for his daughter is fair but does not bridle her passion.” So he spoke and the gods gathered to the house of the bronze floor. Poseidon came, the earth-enfolder, and the helper Hermes came, and the lord Apollo, the archer god. Now the goddesses stayed for shame each in her own house, 325 but the gods, the givers of good things, stood in the gateway; and unquenchable laughter arose among the blessed gods as they saw the craft of wise Hephaestus. And so one would speak, with a glance at his neighbor: “Evil deeds do not thrive. The slow catches the swift; 330 just as now Hephaestus, slow though he is, has outstripped Ares for all that he is the swiftest of the gods who hold Olympus. Lame though he is, he has caught him by craft, and so Ares owes the fine of the adulterer.” So they spoke to one another. But to Hermes the lord Apollo, son of Zeus, said: 335 “Hermes, son of Zeus, messenger, giver of good things, would you in truth be willing, even though ensnared with strong bonds, to lie on a couch by the side of golden Aphrodite?” Then the messenger, Argeiphontes, answered him: “If only this might happen, lord Apollo, archer god— 340 that three times as many bonds inextricable might clasp me about and you gods, yes, and all the goddesses too might be looking on, but that I might sleep by the side of golden Aphrodite.” So he spoke and laughter arose among the immortal gods. Yet Poseidon did not laugh, but kept begging 345 Hephaestus, the famous craftsman, to set Ares free; and he spoke, and addressed him with winged words: “Loose him, and I promise, as you ask me, that he shall himself pay you all that is right in the presence of the immortal gods.” Then the famous god of the two strong arms answered him: 350 “Do not ask this of me, Poseidon, earth-enfolder. A sorry thing to be sure of is the surety for a sorry scoundrel. How could I put you in bonds among the immortal gods, if Ares should avoid both the debt and the bonds and depart?” Then again Poseidon, the earth-shaker, answered him: 355 “Hephaestus, even if Ares avoids the debt and flees away, I will myself pay you this.” Then the famous god of the two strong arms answered him: “It cannot be that I should refuse you, nor would it be seemly.” So saying the mighty Hephaestus loosed the bonds 360 and the two, when they were freed from that bond so strong, sprang up at once. And Ares departed to Thrace, but she, the laughter-loving Aphrodite, went to Cyprus, to Paphos, where her sacred precinct and fragrant altar are. There the Graces bathed her and anointed her with 365 immortal oil, such as gleams upon the gods that are forever. And they clothed her in lovely garments, a wonder to behold. This song the famous minstrel sang; and Odysseus was glad at heart as he listened, and so too were the Phaeacians of the long oars, men famed for their ships. 370 Then Alcinous told Halius and Laodamas to dance alone, for no one could vie with them. And when they had taken in their hands the beautiful ball of purple, which wise Polybus had made for them, the one 375 would lean backward and toss it toward the shadowy clouds, and the other would leap up from the earth and skilfully catch it before his feet touched the ground again. But when they had tried their skill in throwing the ball straight up, the two fell to dancing on the bounteous earth, constantly tossing the ball to and fro, and the other youths 380 stood in the lists and beat time, and at this a great din arose. Then to Alcinous spoke goodly Odysseus: “Lord Alcinous, renowned above all men, you boasted that your dancers were the best, and see, your words are made good; amazement holds me as I look on them.” 385 So he spoke, and the strong and mighty Alcinous was glad; and at once he spoke among the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar: “Hear me, leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians. This stranger truly seems to me a man of understanding. Come then, let us give him a gift of friendship, as is fitting; 390 for twelve glorious kings hold sway in our land as rulers, and I myself am the thirteenth. Now each of you, each of the twelve, bring a newly washed cloak and tunic, and a talent of precious gold, and let us at once bring all together, 395 that the stranger with our gifts in his hands may go to his supper glad at heart. And let Euryalus make amends to the stranger himself with words and with a gift, for the word that he spoke was in no way seemly.” So he spoke, and they all praised his words and ordered that so it should be, and sent out every man a herald to fetch the gifts. 400 And Euryalus in turn made answer, and said: “Lord Alcinous, renowned above all men, I will indeed make amends to the stranger, as you ask me. I will give him this sword, all of bronze, on which is a hilt of silver, and a scabbard of new-sawn ivory 405 is wrought about it; and it shall be to him a thing of great worth.” So saying, he put into his hands the silver-studded sword, and spoke, and addressed him with winged words: “Hail, Sir stranger; but if any word has been spoken that was harsh, may the storm-winds at once snatch it and bear it away. 410 And for yourself, may the gods grant you to see your wife, and to come to your native land, for a long time you have been suffering woes far from your friends.” And Odysseus of many wiles answered him: “All hail to you, too, friend; and may the gods grant you happiness, and may you never hereafter miss 415 this sword which you have given me, making amends with gentle speech.” He spoke, and about his shoulders hung the silver-studded sword. And the sun set, and the glorious gifts were brought him. These the lordly heralds bore to the palace of Alcinous, and the sons of peerless Alcinous 420 took the beautiful gifts and set them before their honored mother. And the strong and mighty Alcinous led the way, and they came in and sat down on the high seats. Then to Arete spoke the mighty Alcinous: “Bring here, wife, a fine chest, the best you have, 425 and yourself place in it a newly-washed cloak and tunic; and you others heat for the stranger a cauldron on the fire, and warm water, that when he has bathed and has seen well stowed all the gifts which the noble Phaeacians have brought here, he may take pleasure in the feast, and in hearing the strains of the song. 430 And I will give him this beautiful cup of mine, wrought of gold, that he may remember me all his days as he pours libations in his halls to Zeus and to the other gods.” So he spoke, and Arete told her handmaids to set a great cauldron on the fire with all speed. 435 And they set on the blazing fire the cauldron for filling the bath, and poured in water, and took billets of wood and kindled them beneath it. Then the fire played about the belly of the cauldron, and the water grew warm; but meanwhile Arete brought out for the stranger a beautiful chest from the treasure chamber, and placed in it the fine gifts, 440 the clothing and the gold, which the Phaeacians gave. And in it she herself placed a cloak and a fair tunic; and she spoke and addressed Odysseus with winged words: “Look now yourself to the lid, and quickly cast a cord upon it, lest someone rob you of your goods on the way, when later on 445 you are lying in sweet sleep, as you travel in the black ship.” Now when the much-enduring goodly Odysseus heard these words, he at once fitted on the lid, and quickly cast a cord upon it—a cunning knot, which queenly Circe once had taught him. Then immediately the housekeeper told him to 450 go to the bath and bathe; and his heart was glad when he saw the warm bath, for he had not been used to such care from the time that he left the house of fair-haired Calypso, but until then he had care continually as a god. Now when the handmaids had bathed him and anointed him with oil, 455 and had cast about him a fair cloak and a tunic, he came out of the bath, and went to join the men at their wine. And Nausicaa, gifted with beauty by the gods, stood by the door-post of the well-built hall, and she marvelled at Odysseus, as her eyes beheld him, 460 and she spoke, and addressed him with winged words: “Farewell, stranger, and hereafter even in your own native land may you remember me, for to me first you owe the price of your life.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous, 465 so may Zeus grant, the loud-thundering lord of Hera, that I may reach my home and see the day of my returning. Then will I even there pray to you as to a god all my days, for you, maiden, have given me life.” He spoke, and sat down on a chair beside king Alcinous. 470 And now they were serving out portions and mixing the wine. Then the herald came near, leading the good minstrel, Demodocus, held in honor by the people, and seated him in the midst of the banqueters, leaning his chair against a high pillar. Then to the herald said Odysseus of many wiles, 475 cutting off a portion of the chine of a white-tusked boar, of which yet more was left, and there was rich fat on either side: “Herald, take and give this portion to Demodocus, that he may eat, and I will greet him, despite my grief. For among all men that are upon the earth minstrels 480 win honor and reverence, because the Muse has taught them the paths of song, and loves the tribe of minstrels.” So he spoke, and the herald bore the portion and placed it in the hands of the lord Demodocus, and he took it and was glad at heart. So they put out their hands to the good cheer lying ready before them. 485 But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, then to Demodocus said Odysseus of many wiles: “Demodocus, truly above all mortal men do I praise you, whether it was the Muse, the daughter of Zeus, that taught you, or Apollo; for well and truly do you sing of the fate of the Achaeans, 490 all that they did and suffered, and all the toils they endured, as though perhaps you had yourself been present, or had heard the tale from another. But come now, change your theme, and sing of the building of the horse of wood, which Epeius made with Athena's help, the horse which once Odysseus led up into the citadel as a thing of guile, 495 when he had filled it with the men who sacked Ilios. If you do indeed tell me this tale rightly, I will declare to all mankind that the god has with a ready heart granted you the gift of divine song.” So he spoke, and the minstrel, moved by the god, began, and let his song be heard, 500 taking up the tale where the Argives had embarked on their benched ships and were sailing away, after casting fire on their huts, while those others led by glorious Odysseus were now sitting in the place of assembly of the Trojans, hidden in the horse; for the Trojans had themselves dragged it to the citadel. 505 So there it stood, while the people talked long as they sat about it, and could form no resolve. Indeed, in three ways did counsel find favour in their minds: either to split the hollow timber with the pitiless bronze, or to drag it to the height and cast it down the rocks, or to let it stand as a great offering to propitiate the gods, 510 just as in the end it was to be brought to pass; for it was their fate to perish when their city should enclose the great horse of wood, in which were sitting all the best of the Argives, bearing to the Trojans death and fate. And he sang how the sons of the Achaeans 515 poured out from the horse and, leaving their hollow ambush, sacked the city. Of the others he sang how in various ways they laid waste the lofty city, but of Odysseus, how he went like Ares to the house of Deiphobus together with godlike Menelaus. There it was, he said, that Odysseus braved the most terrible fight 520 and in the end conquered by the aid of great-hearted Athena. This song the famous minstrel sang. But the heart of Odysseus was melted and tears wet his cheeks beneath his eyelids. And as a woman wails and flings herself about her dear husband, who has fallen in front of his city and his people, 525 seeking to ward off from his city and his children the pitiless day; and as she beholds him dying and gasping for breath, she clings to him and shrieks aloud, while the foe behind her strike her back and shoulders with their spears, and lead her away to captivity to bear toil and woe, 530 while with most pitiful grief her cheeks are wasted: even so did Odysseus let fall pitiful tears from beneath his brows. Now from all the rest he concealed the tears that he shed, but Alcinous alone noticed him and took heed, 535 for he sat by him and heard him groaning heavily. And at once he spoke among the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar: “Hear me, leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians, and let Demodocus now check his clear-toned lyre, for in no way to all alike does he give pleasure with this song. Ever since we began to dine and the divine minstrel was moved to sing, 540 from that time this stranger has never ceased from sorrowful lamentation; surely, I think, grief has encompassed his heart. No, let the minstrel cease, that we may all make merry, hosts and guest alike, since it is better so. For see, for the sake of the honored stranger all these things have been made ready, 545 his sending and the gifts of friendship which we give him of our love. Dear as a brother is the stranger and the suppliant to a man whose wits have ever so short a range. Therefore do not hide any longer with crafty thought whatever I shall ask you; to speak out plainly is the better course. 550 Tell me the name by which they used to call you in your home, your mother and your father and other folk besides, your townsmen and the dwellers round about. For there is no one of all mankind who is nameless, whether he is base or noble, when once he has been born, but parents bestow names on all when they give them birth. 555 And tell me your country, your people, and your city, that our ships may carry you there, discerning the course by their wits. For the Phaeacians have no pilots, nor steering-oars such as other ships have, but their ships of themselves understand the thoughts and minds of men, 560 and they know the cities and rich fields of all peoples, and most swiftly do they cross over the gulf of the sea, hidden in mist and cloud, nor do they ever fear harm or ruin. Yet this story I once heard told in this way by my father 565 Nausithous, who used to say that Poseidon was angry with us because we give safe convoy to all men. He said that someday, as a well-built ship of the Phaeacians was returning from a convoy over the misty deep, Poseidon would strike her and would fling a great mountain about our city. 570 So that old man spoke, and these things the god will perhaps bring to pass, or will leave unfulfilled, as may be his good pleasure. But come, now, tell me this and declare it truly: where you have wandered and to what countries of men you have come; tell me of the people and of their well-built cities, 575 both of those who are cruel and wild and unjust, and of those who love strangers and fear the gods in their thoughts. And tell me why you weep and wail in spirit as you hear the doom of the Argive Danaans and of Ilios. This the gods brought about, and spun the skein of ruin 580 for men, that there might be a song for those yet to be born. Did some kinsman of yours fall before Ilios, some good, true man, your daughter's husband or your wife's father, such as are nearest to one after one's own kin and blood? Or was it perhaps some comrade dear to your heart, 585 some good, true man? For in no way worse than a brother is a comrade who has an understanding heart.”
9Then Odysseus, of many wiles, answered him, and said: “Lord Alcinous, renowned above all men, truly this is a good thing, to listen to a minstrel such as this man is, like the gods in voice. 5 For myself I declare that there is no greater fulfillment of delight than when joy possesses a whole people, and banqueters in the halls listen to a minstrel as they sit in due order, and by them tables are laden with bread and meat, and the cup-bearer draws wine from the bowl 10 and bears it round and pours it into the cups. This seems to my mind the fairest thing there is. But your heart is turned to ask of my grievous woes, that I may weep and groan the more. What, then, shall I tell you first, what last? 15 for very many woes have the heavenly gods given me. First now will I tell my name, that you, too, may know it, and that I hereafter, when I have escaped from the pitiless day of doom, may be your host, though I dwell in a home that is far away. I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, who 20 am known among men for all manner of wiles, and my fame reaches to heaven. But I dwell in clear-seen Ithaca, in which is a mountain, Neriton, covered with waving forests, conspicuous from afar; and round it lie many isles close to one another, Dulichium, and Same, and wooded Zacynthus. 25 Ithaca itself lies close in to the mainland the furthest toward the gloom, but the others lie apart toward the Dawn and the sun—a rugged isle, but a good nurse of young men; and for myself no other thing can I see sweeter than one's own land. In truth Calypso, the beautiful goddess, sought to keep me by her 30 in her hollow caves, yearning that I should be her husband; and in like manner Circe would gladly have held me back in her halls, the guileful lady of Aeaea, yearning that I should be her husband; but they could never persuade the heart within my breast. So true is it that nothing is sweeter than a man's own land and his parents, 35 even though it is in a rich house that he dwells far off in a foreign land away from his parents. But come, let me tell you also of my woeful home-coming, which Zeus laid upon me as I came from Troy. “From Ilios the wind bore me and brought me to the Cicones, 40 to Ismarus. There I sacked the city and slew the men; and from the city we took their wives and great store of treasure, and divided them among us, that so far as lay in me no man might go defrauded of an equal share. Then indeed I gave command that we should flee with swift foot, but the others in their great folly did not listen. 45 But there much wine was drunk, and many sheep they slew by the shore, and sleek cattle of shambling gait. Meanwhile the Cicones went and called to other Cicones who were their neighbors, at once more numerous and braver than they—men that dwelt inland and were skilled 50 at fighting with their foes from chariots, and, if there was need, on foot. So they came in the morning, as thick as leaves or flowers spring up in their season; and then it was that an evil fate from Zeus beset us luckless men, that we might suffer very many woes. They set their battle in array and fought by the swift ships, 55 and each side hurled at the other with bronze-tipped spears. Now as long as it was morning and the sacred day was growing, so long we held our ground and beat them off, though they were more than we. But when the sun turned to the time for the unyoking of oxen, then the Cicones prevailed and routed the Achaeans, 60 and six of my well-greaved comrades perished from each ship; but the rest of us escaped death and fate. “From there we sailed on, grieved at heart, glad to have escaped from death, though we had lost our dear comrades; nor did I let my curved ships pass on 65 until we had called three times on each of those hapless comrades of ours who died on the plain, cut down by the Cicones. But against our ships Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, roused the North Wind with a wondrous tempest, and hid with clouds the land and the sea alike, and night rushed down from heaven. 70 Then the ships were driven headlong, and their sails were torn to shreds by the violence of the wind. So we lowered the sails and stowed them aboard, in fear of death, and rowed the ships hurriedly toward the land. There for two nights and two days continuously 75 we lay, eating our hearts for weariness and sorrow. But when now fair-tressed Dawn brought to its birth the third day, we set up the masts and hoisted the white sails, and took our seats, and the wind and the helmsmen steered the ships. And now I should have reached my native land wholly unscathed, 80 but the wave and the current and the North Wind beat me back as I was rounding Malea, and drove me from my course past Cythera. “From there for nine days I was borne by dreadful winds over the teeming deep; but on the tenth we set foot on the land of the Lotus-eaters, who eat a flowery food. 85 There we went on shore and drew water, and at once my comrades took their meal by the swift ships. But when we had tasted food and drink, I sent out some of my comrades to go and learn who the men were, who here ate bread upon the earth; 90 two men I chose, sending with them a third as a herald. So they went at once and mingled with the Lotus-eaters, and the Lotus-eaters did not plan death for my comrades, but gave them some of the lotus to taste. And whoever of them ate of the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus 95 had no longer any wish to bring back word or to return, but there they wished to stay among the Lotus-eaters, feeding on the lotus, and forgetful of their homeward way. These men, therefore, I brought back to the ships by force, weeping, and dragged them beneath the benches and bound them fast in the hollow ships; 100 and I ordered the rest of my trusty comrades to embark with speed on the swift ships, lest perhaps anyone should eat of the lotus and forget his homeward way. So they went on board at once and sat down upon the benches, and sitting well in order struck the grey sea with their oars. 105 “From there we sailed on, grieved at heart, and we came to the land of the Cyclopes, an overweening and lawless folk, who, trusting in the immortal gods, plant nothing with their hands nor plough; but all these things spring up for them without sowing or ploughing, 110 wheat, and barley, and vines, which bear the rich clusters of wine, and the rain of Zeus gives them increase. They have neither assemblies for council nor appointed laws, but they dwell on the peaks of lofty mountains in hollow caves, and each one is lawgiver 115 to his children and his wives, and they care nothing for one another. “Now there is a level isle that stretches aslant outside the harbor, neither close to the shore of the land of the Cyclopes, nor yet far off, a wooded isle. In it live wild goats beyond number, for the tread of men does not scare them away, 120 nor are hunters accustomed to come there, men who endure toils in the woodland as they course over the peaks of the mountains. Neither with flocks is it held, nor with ploughed lands, but unsown and untilled all the days it knows nothing of men, but feeds the bleating goats. 125 For the Cyclopes have at hand no ships with vermilion cheeks, nor are there ship-wrights in their land who might build them well-benched ships, which should perform all their wants, passing to the cities of other folk, as men often cross the sea in ships to visit one another— 130 craftsmen, who would have made of this isle also a fair settlement. For the isle is in no way poor, but would bear all things in season. In it are meadows by the shores of the grey sea, well-watered meadows and soft, where vines would never fail, and in it level ploughland, from which 135 they might reap from season to season exceedingly deep harvests, so rich is the soil beneath; and in it, too, is a harbor giving safe anchorage, where there is no need of moorings, either to throw out anchor-stones or to make fast stern cables, but one may beach one's ship and wait until the sailors' minds urge them to put out, and the breezes blow fair. 140 Now at the head of the harbor a spring of bright water flows out from beneath a cave, and round about it poplars grow. There we sailed in, and some god guided us through the murky night; for there was no light to see, but a mist lay deep about the ships and the moon 145 showed no light from heaven, but was shut in by clouds. Then no man's eyes beheld that island, nor did we see the long waves rolling on the beach, until we ran our well-benched ships on shore. And when we had beached the ships we lowered all the sails 150 and ourselves went out on the shore of the sea, and there we fell asleep and waited for the bright Dawn. “As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, we roamed throughout the isle marvelling at it; and the nymphs, the daughters of Zeus who bears the aegis, roused 155 the mountain goats, that my comrades might have something to make their meal of. At once we took from the ships our curved bows and long javelins, and arrayed in three bands we began to shoot; and the god soon gave us game to satisfy our hearts. The ships that followed me were twelve, and to each 160 nine goats fell by lot, but for me alone they chose out ten. “So then all day long until sunset we sat feasting on abundant flesh and sweet wine. For the red wine was not yet spent from our ships, but some was still left; for abundant store 165 had we drawn in jars for each crew when we took the sacred citadel of the Cicones. And we looked across to the land of the Cyclopes, who dwelt close at hand, and noticed the smoke, and the voice of men, and of the sheep, and of the goats. But when the sun set and darkness came on, then we lay down to rest on the shore of the sea. 170 And as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, I called my men together and spoke among them all: “‘Remain here now, all the rest of you, my trusty comrades, but I with my own ship and my own company will go and make trial of those men over there, to learn who they are, 175 whether they are cruel, and wild, and unjust, or whether they love strangers and fear the gods in their thoughts.’ “So saying, I went on board the ship and ordered my comrades themselves to embark, and to loose the stern cables. So they went on board at once and sat down upon the benches, 180 and sitting well in order struck the grey sea with their oars. But when we had reached the place, which lay close at hand, there on the land's edge close to the sea we saw a high cave, roofed over with laurels, and there many flocks, sheep and goats alike, used to sleep. Round about it 185 a high court was built with stones set deep in the earth, and with tall pines and high-crested oaks. There a monstrous man used to sleep, who shepherded his flocks alone and far off, and did not mingle with others, but lived apart, with his heart set on lawlessness. 190 For he was fashioned a wondrous monster, and was not like a man that lives by bread, but like a wooded peak of lofty mountains, which stands out to view alone, apart from the rest. “Then I ordered the rest of my trusty comrades to remain there by the ship and to guard the ship, 195 but I chose twelve of the best of my comrades and went my way. With me I had a goat-skin of the dark, sweet wine, which Maro, son of Euanthes, had given me, the priest of Apollo, the god who used to watch over Ismarus. And he had given it to me because we had protected him with his child and wife 200 out of reverence; for he dwelt in a wooded grove of Phoebus Apollo. And he gave me splendid gifts: of well-wrought gold he gave me seven talents, and he gave me a mixing-bowl all of silver; and besides these, wine, with which he filled twelve jars in all, 205 wine sweet and unmixed, a drink divine. Not one of his slaves nor of the maids in his halls knew of it, but himself and his dear wife, and one housekeeper only. And as often as they drank that honey-sweet red wine he would fill one cup and pour it into twenty measures of water, 210 and a smell would rise from the mixing-bowl marvellously sweet; then truly one would not choose to hold back. With this wine I filled and took with me a great skin, and also provisions in a bag; for my proud spirit had a foreboding that soon a man would come to me clothed in great might, 215 a savage man that knew nothing of justice or of law. “Speedily we came to the cave, nor did we find him within, but he was pasturing his fat flocks in the fields. So we entered the cave and gazed in wonder at all things there. The crates were laden with cheeses, and the pens were crowded 220 with lambs and kids. Each kind was penned separately: by themselves the firstlings, by themselves the later lambs, and by themselves again the newly weaned. And with whey were swimming all the well-wrought vessels, the milk-pails and the bowls into which he milked. Then my comrades spoke and begged me first of all 225 to take some of the cheeses and depart, and after that speedily to drive to the swift ship the kids and lambs from the pens, and to sail over the salt water. But I did not listen to them—truly it would have been far better—to the end that I might see the man himself, and whether he would give me gifts of entertainment. 230 Yet, as it fell, his appearing was not to prove a joy to my comrades. “Then we kindled a fire and offered sacrifice, and ourselves, too, took some of the cheeses and ate, and thus we sat in the cave and waited for him until he came back, herding his flocks. He bore a mighty weight of dry wood to serve him at supper time, 235 and flung it down with a crash inside the cave, but we, seized with terror, shrank back into a recess of the cave. But he drove his fat flocks into the wide cavern—all those that he milked; but the males—the rams and the goats—he left outside in the deep court. 240 Then he lifted on high and set in place the great door-stone, a mighty rock; twenty-two stout four-wheeled wagons could not lift it from the ground, such a towering mass of rock he set in the doorway. After that he sat down and milked the ewes and bleating goats 245 all in turn, and beneath each dam he placed her young. Then next he curdled half the white milk, and gathered it in wicker baskets and laid it away, and the other half he set in vessels that he might have it to take and drink, and that it might serve him for supper. 250 But when he had busily performed his tasks, then he rekindled the fire, and caught sight of us, and asked: “‘Strangers, who are you? From where do you sail over the watery ways? Is it on some business, or do you wander at random over the sea, even as pirates, who wander, 255 hazarding their lives and bringing evil to men of other lands?’ “So he spoke, and in our breasts our spirit was broken for terror of his deep voice and monstrous self; yet even so I made answer and spoke to him, saying: “‘We, you must know, are from Troy, Achaeans, driven wandering 260 by all manner of winds over the great gulf of the sea. Seeking our home, we have come by another way, by other paths; so, I think, Zeus was pleased to devise. And we declare that we are the men of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, whose fame is now mightiest under heaven, 265 so great a city did he sack, and slew many people; but we on our part, thus visiting you, have come as suppliants to your knees, in the hope that you will give us entertainment, or otherwise make some present, as is the due of strangers. No, mightiest one, reverence the gods; we are your suppliants;[3] 270 and Zeus is the avenger of suppliants and strangers—Zeus, the strangers' god—who ever attends upon revered strangers.’ “So I spoke, and he at once made answer with pitiless heart: ‘You are a fool, stranger, or have come from afar, seeing that you tell me either to fear or to shun the gods. 275 For the Cyclopes care nothing for Zeus, who bears the aegis, nor for the blessed gods, since truly we are far better than they. Nor would I, to shun the wrath of Zeus, spare either you or your comrades, unless my own heart should command me. But tell me where you moored your well-wrought ship on your coming. 280 Was it perhaps at a remote part of the land, or close by? I would like to know.’ “So he spoke, tempting me, but he did not trap me because of my great cunning; and I made answer again in crafty words: “‘My ship Poseidon, the earth-shaker, dashed to pieces, casting her upon the rocks at the border of your land; 285 for he brought her close to the headland, and the wind drove her in from the sea. But I, with these men here, escaped utter destruction.’ “So I spoke, but from his pitiless heart he made no answer, but sprang up and put out his hands upon my comrades. Two of them at once he seized and dashed to the earth like puppies, 290 and the brain flowed out upon the ground and wetted the earth. Then he cut them limb from limb and made ready his supper, and ate them as a mountain-nurtured lion, leaving nothing—ate the entrails, and the flesh, and the marrowy bones. And we with wailing held up our hands to Zeus, 295 beholding his cruel deeds; and helplessness possessed our souls. But when the Cyclops had filled his huge maw by eating human flesh and after that drinking pure milk, he lay down within the cave, stretched out among the sheep. And I formed a plan in my great heart 300 to steal near him, and draw my sharp sword from beside my thigh and strike him in the breast, where the midriff holds the liver, feeling for the place with my hand. But a second thought checked me, for right there should we, too, have perished in utter ruin. For we should not have been able 305 to thrust back with our hands from the high door the mighty stone which he had set there. So then, with wailing, we waited for the bright Dawn. “As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, he rekindled the fire and milked his fine flocks all in turn, and beneath each dam placed her young. 310 Then, when he had busily performed his tasks, again he seized two men at once and made ready his meal. And when he had made his meal he drove his fat flocks out of the cave, easily moving away the great door-stone; and then he put it in place again, as one might set the lid upon a quiver. 315 Then with loud whistling the Cyclops turned his fat flocks toward the mountain, and I was left there, devising evil in the deep of my heart, if in any way I might take vengeance on him, and Athena grant me glory. “Now this seemed to my mind the best plan. There lay beside a sheep-pen a great club of the Cyclops, 320 a staff of green olive-wood, which he had cut to carry with him when dry; and as we looked at it we thought it as large as is the mast of a black ship of twenty oars, a merchantman, broad of beam, which crosses over the great gulf; so huge it was in length and in breadth to look upon. 325 To this I came, and cut off from it about a fathom's length and handed it to my comrades, telling them to dress it down; and they made it smooth, and I, standing by, sharpened it at the point, and then at once took it and hardened it in the blazing fire. Then I laid it carefully away, hiding it beneath the dung, 330 which lay in great heaps throughout the cave. And I told my comrades to cast lots among them, which of them should have the daring with me to lift the stake and grind it into his eye when sweet sleep should come upon him. And the lot fell upon those whom I myself would have wished to choose; 335 four they were, and I was numbered with them as the fifth. In the evening then he came, herding his flocks of fine fleece, and at once drove into the wide cave his fat flocks one and all, and did not leave one outside in the deep court, either from some foreboding or because a god so commanded him. 340 Then he lifted on high and set in place the great door-stone, and sitting down he milked the ewes and bleating goats all in turn, and beneath each dam he placed her young. But when he had busily performed his tasks, again he seized two men at once and made ready his supper. 345 Then I drew near and spoke to the Cyclops, holding in my hands an ivy bowl of the dark wine: “‘Cyclops, take and drink wine after your meal of human flesh, that you may know what manner of drink this is which our ship contained. It was to you that I was bringing it as a drink offering, in the hope that, touched with pity, 350 you might send me on my way home; but you rage in a way that is past all bearing. Cruel man, how shall any one of all the multitudes of men ever come to you again hereafter, seeing that you have committed lawlessness?’ “So I spoke, and he took the cup and drained it, and was wondrously pleased as he drank the sweet draught, and asked me for it again a second time: 355 “‘Give it to me again with a ready heart, and tell me your name at once, that I may give you a stranger's gift at which you may be glad. For among the Cyclopes the earth, the giver of grain, bears the rich clusters of wine, and the rain of Zeus gives them increase; but this is a streamlet of ambrosia and nectar.’ 360 “So he spoke, and again I handed him the flaming wine. Three times I brought and gave it to him, and three times he drained it in his folly. But when the wine had stolen about the wits of the Cyclops, then I spoke to him with gentle words: “‘Cyclops, you ask me my glorious name, and I 365 will tell it to you; and give me a stranger's gift, even as you promised. Noman is my name, Noman they call me—my mother and my father, and all my comrades as well.’ “So I spoke, and he at once answered me with pitiless heart: ‘Noman will I eat last among his comrades, 370 and the others before him; this shall be your gift.’ “He spoke, and reeling fell upon his back, and lay there with his thick neck bent aslant, and sleep, that conquers all, laid hold on him. And from his gullet came out wine and bits of human flesh, and he vomited in his drunken sleep. 375 Then indeed I thrust in the stake under the deep ashes until it should grow hot, and heartened all my comrades with cheering words, that I might see no man flinch through fear. But when soon that stake of olive-wood was about to catch fire, green though it was, and began to glow terribly, 380 then indeed I drew near, bringing the stake from the fire, and my comrades stood round me and a god breathed into us great courage. They took the stake of olive-wood, sharp at the point, and thrust it into his eye, while I, throwing my weight upon it from above, whirled it round, as when a man bores a ship's timber 385 with a drill, while those below keep it spinning with the thong, which they lay hold of by either end, and the drill runs around unceasingly. Even so we took the fiery-pointed stake and whirled it around in his eye, and the blood flowed around the heated thing. And his eyelids wholly and his brows round about did the flame singe 390 as the eyeball burned, and its roots crackled in the fire. And as when a smith dips a great axe or an adze in cold water amid loud hissing to temper it—for from this comes the strength of iron—even so did his eye hiss round the stake of olive-wood. 395 Terribly then did he cry aloud, and the rock rang around; and we, seized with terror, shrank back, while he wrenched from his eye the stake, all befouled with blood, and flung it from him, wildly waving his arms. Then he called aloud to the Cyclopes, who 400 dwelt round about him in caves among the windy heights, and they heard his cry and came thronging from every side, and standing around the cave asked him what ailed him: “‘What great distress is yours, Polyphemus, that you cry out thus through the immortal night, and make us sleepless? 405 Can it be that some mortal man is driving off your flocks against your will, or slaying you yourself by guile or by might?’ “‘Then from the cave the mighty Polyphemus answered them: ‘My friends, it is Noman that is slaying me by guile and not by force.’ “And they made answer and addressed him with winged words: 410 ‘If, then, no man does violence to you in your loneliness, sickness which comes from great Zeus you may in no way escape. No, pray to our father, the lord Poseidon.’ “So they spoke and went their way; and my heart laughed within me that my name and cunning device had so beguiled. 415 But the Cyclops, groaning and laboring in anguish, groped with his hands and took away the stone from the door, and himself sat in the doorway with arms outstretched in the hope of catching anyone who sought to go out with the sheep—so witless, indeed, he thought in his heart to find me. 420 But I took counsel how all might be the very best, if I might perhaps find some way of escape from death for my comrades and for myself. And I wove all manner of wiles and counsel, as a man will in a matter of life and death; for great was the evil that was near us. And this seemed to my mind the best plan. 425 Rams there were, well-fed and thick of fleece, fine beasts and large, with wool dark as the violet. These I silently bound together with twisted withes on which the Cyclops, that monster with his heart set on lawlessness, used to sleep. Three at a time I took. The one in the middle in each case bore a man, 430 and the other two went, one on either side, saving my comrades. Thus every three sheep bore a man. But as for me—there was a ram, far the best of all the flock; him I grasped by the back, and curled beneath his shaggy belly, lay there face upwards 435 with steadfast heart, clinging fast with my hands to his wondrous fleece. So then, with wailing, we waited for the bright dawn. “As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, then the males of the flock hastened out to pasture and the females bleated unmilked about the pens, 440 for their udders were bursting. And their master, distressed with grievous pains, felt along the backs of all the sheep as they stood up before him, but in his folly he did not notice this, that my men were bound beneath the breasts of his fleecy sheep. Last of all the flock the ram went out, 445 burdened with the weight of his fleece and my cunning self. And mighty Polyphemus, as he felt along his back, spoke to him, saying: “‘Good ram, why is it that you go out thus through the cave the last of the flock? You have never before been accustomed to lag behind the sheep, but were always far the first to feed on the tender bloom of the grass, 450 moving with long strides, and always the first to reach the streams of the river, and the first to long to return to the fold at evening. But now you are last of all. Surely you are sorrowing for the eye of your master, which an evil man blinded along with his miserable fellows, when he had overpowered my wits with wine, 455 Noman, who, I tell you, has not yet escaped destruction. If only you could feel as I do, and could get the power of speech to tell me where he skulks away from my wrath, then should his brains be dashed on the ground here and there throughout the cave, when I had struck him, and my heart 460 should be lightened of the woes which good-for-nothing Noman has brought me.’ “So saying, he sent the ram away from him. And when we had gone a little way from the cave and the court, I first loosed myself from under the ram and set my comrades free. Speedily then we drove off those long-shanked sheep, rich with fat, 465 turning very often to look about until we came to the ship. And welcome to our dear comrades was the sight of us who had escaped death, but for the others they wept and wailed; yet I would not allow them to weep, but with a frown forbade each man. Rather I ordered them 470 to fling on board with speed the many sheep of fine fleece, and sail over the salt water. So they went on board at once and sat down upon the benches, and sitting well in order struck the grey sea with their oars. But when I was as far away as a man's voice carries when he shouts, then I spoke to the Cyclops with mocking words: 475 “‘Cyclops, that man, it seems, was no weakling, whose comrades you had a mind to devour by brutal strength in your hollow cave. Very surely were your evil deeds to fall on your own head, you cruel wretch, who did not shrink from eating your guests in your own house. Therefore has Zeus taken vengeance on you, and the other gods.’ 480 “So I spoke, and he grew the angrier at heart, and broke off the peak of a high mountain and hurled it at us, and cast it in front of the dark-prowed ship. And the sea surged beneath the stone as it fell, 485 and the backward flow, like a flood from the deep, bore the ship swiftly landwards and drove it upon the shore. But I seized a long pole in my hands and shoved the ship off and along the shore, 490 and with a nod of my head I roused my comrades, and ordered them to fall to their oars that we might escape out of our evil plight. And they bent to their oars and rowed. But when, as we traveled over the sea, we were twice as far distant, then I wished to call to the Cyclops, though round about me my comrades, one after another, sought to check me with gentle words: “‘Reckless one, why will you provoke to wrath a savage man, 495 who just now hurled his missile into the deep and drove our ship back to the land, and truly we thought that we had perished there? And had he heard one of us uttering a sound or speaking, he would have hurled a jagged rock and crushed our heads and the timbers of our ship, so mightily does he throw.’ 500 “So they spoke, but they could not persuade my great-hearted spirit; and I answered him again with angry heart: “‘Cyclops, if any one of mortal men shall ask you about the shameful blinding of your eye, say that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, blinded it, 505 the son of Laertes, whose home is in Ithaca.’ “So I spoke, and he groaned and said in answer:‘See now, truly a prophecy uttered long ago has come upon me. There lived here a soothsayer, a good man and tall, Telemus, son of Eurymus, who excelled all men in soothsaying, 510 and grew old as a prophet among the Cyclopes. He told me that all these things should be brought to pass in days to come, that by the hands of Odysseus I should lose my sight. But I always looked for some tall and comely man to come here, clothed in great might, 515 but now one that is puny, a man of no account and a weakling, has blinded me of my eye when he had overpowered me with wine. Yet come here, Odysseus, that I may set before you gifts of entertainment, and may speed your sending from here, that the glorious Earth-shaker may grant it to you. For I am his son, and he declares himself my father; 520 and he himself will heal me, if it is his good pleasure, but none other either of the blessed gods or of mortal men.’ “So he spoke, and I answered him and said:‘Would that I were able to rob you of soul and life, and to send you to the house of Hades, 525 as surely as not even the Earth-shaker shall heal your eye.’ “So I spoke, and he then prayed to the lord Poseidon, stretching out both his hands to the starry heaven: ‘Hear me, Poseidon, earth-enfolder, you dark-haired god, if indeed I am your son and you declare yourself my father; 530 grant that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, may never reach his home, the son of Laertes, whose home is in Ithaca; but if it is his fate to see his friends and to reach his well-built house and his native land, late may he come and in a sorry state, after losing all his comrades, 535 in a ship that is another's; and may he find woes in his house.’ “So he spoke in prayer, and the dark-haired god heard him. But the Cyclops lifted on high again a far greater stone, and swung and hurled it, putting into the throw measureless strength. He cast it 540 a little behind the dark-prowed ship, and barely missed the end of the steering-oar. And the sea surged beneath the stone as it fell, and the wave bore the ship onward and drove it to the shore. “Now when we had come to the island, where our other well-benched ships lay all together, and round about them our comrades, 545 always expecting us, sat weeping, then, on coming there, we beached our ship on the sands, and ourselves went out upon the shore of the sea. Then we took out of the hollow ship the flocks of the Cyclops, and divided them, that so far as in me lay no man might go defrauded of an equal share. 550 But the ram my well-greaved comrades gave to me alone, when the flocks were divided, as a gift apart; and on the shore I sacrificed him to Zeus, son of Cronos, god of the dark clouds, who is lord of all, and burned the thigh-pieces. But he did not heed my sacrifice, but was planning how all 555 my well-benched ships might perish and my trusty comrades. “So, then, all day long until sunset we sat feasting on abundant flesh and sweet wine; but when the sun set and darkness came on, then we lay down to rest on the shore of the sea. 560 And as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, I roused my comrades, and ordered them themselves to embark and to loose the stern cables. So they went on board at once and sat down upon the benches, and sitting well in order struck the grey sea with their oars. 565 “From there we sailed on, grieved at heart, glad to have escaped death, though we had lost our dear comrades.
10“Then to the Aeolian isle we came, where there lived Aeolus, son of Hippotas, dear to the immortal gods, in a floating island, and all around it is a wall of unbreakable bronze, and the cliff runs up sheer. 5 Twelve children of his, too, there are in the halls, six daughters and six sturdy sons, and he gave his daughters to his sons as wives. These, then, feast continually by their dear father and good mother, and before them lies boundless good cheer. 10 And the house, filled with the savour of feasting, resounds all about even in the outer court by day, and by night again they sleep beside their chaste wives on blankets and on corded bedsteads. To their city, then, and fair palace we came, and for a full month he made me welcome and questioned me about each thing, 15 about Ilios, and the ships of the Argives, and the return of the Achaeans. And I told him all the tale in due order. But when I, on my part, asked him that I might depart and urged him to send me on my way, he, too, denied me nothing, but furthered my sending. He gave me a bag, made of the hide of an ox nine years old, which he flayed, 20 and in it he bound the paths of the blustering winds; for the son of Cronos had made him keeper of the winds, both to still and to rouse whichever one he wishes. And in my hollow ship he bound it fast with a bright cord of silver, that not a breath might escape, however slight it might be. 25 But for my furtherance he sent forth the breath of the West Wind to blow, that it might bear on their way both ships and men. Yet this he was not to bring to pass, for we were lost through our own folly. “For nine days we sailed, night and day alike, and now on the tenth our native land came in sight, 30 and we were now so near that we saw men tending the beacon fires. Then upon me came sweet sleep in my weariness, for I had always kept in hand the sheet of the ship, and had yielded it to no other of my comrades, that we might the sooner come to our native land. But my comrades meanwhile began to speak to one another, 35 and said that I was bringing home for myself gold and silver as gifts from Aeolus, the great-hearted son of Hippotas. And thus would one speak, with a glance at his neighbor: “‘Curse it, how beloved and honored this man is by all men, whatever city and land he comes to! 40 Much fine treasure he is carrying with him from the land of Troy out of the spoil, while we, who have accomplished the same journey as he, are returning, bearing with us empty hands. And now Aeolus has given him these gifts, granting them freely out of his love. But come, let us quickly see what is here, 45 what store of gold and silver is in the bag.’ “So they spoke, and the evil counsel of my comrades prevailed. They loosed the bag, and all the winds leapt forth, and swiftly the storm-wind seized them and bore them weeping out to sea away from their native land; but as for me, 50 I awoke, and pondered in my noble heart whether I should fling myself from the ship and perish in the sea, or endure in silence and still remain among the living. However, I endured and stayed, and covering my head lay down in the ship. But the ships were borne by an evil blast of wind 55 back to the Aeolian isle; and my comrades groaned. “There we went ashore and drew water, and at once my comrades took their meal by the swift ships. But when we had tasted food and drink, I took with me a herald and one companion 60 and went to the glorious palace of Aeolus, and I found him feasting beside his wife and his children. So we entered the house and sat down by the doorposts on the threshold, and they were amazed at heart, and questioned us: “‘How have you come here, Odysseus? What cruel god assailed you? 65 Surely we sent you forth with kindly care, that you might reach your native land and your home, and whatever place you wished.’ “So they said, but I with a sorrowing heart spoke among them and said: ‘Ruin my evil comrades worked on me, and with it accursed sleep; but bring healing, my friends, for with you is the power.’ 70 “So I spoke and addressed them with gentle words, but they were silent. Then their father answered and said: “‘Leave our island with speed, you vilest of all that live. In no way may I help or send upon his way that man who is hated by the blessed gods. 75 Go, for you come here as one hated by the immortals.’ “So saying, he sent me forth from the house, groaning heavily. From there we sailed on, grieved at heart. And worn was the spirit of the men by the grievous rowing, because of our own folly, for no longer appeared any breeze to bear us on our way. 80 So for six days we sailed, night and day alike, and on the seventh we came to the lofty citadel of Lamus, to Telepylus of the Laestrygonians, where herdsman calls to herdsman as he drives in his flock, and the other answers as he drives his forth. There a man who never slept could have earned a double wage, 85 one by herding cattle, and one by pasturing white sheep; for the outgoings of the night and of the day are close together. When we had come there into the fine harbor, about which on both sides a sheer cliff runs continuously, and projecting headlands opposite to one another 90 stretch out at the mouth, and the entrance is narrow, then all the rest steered their curved ships in, and the ships were moored within the hollow harbor close together; for in it no wave ever swelled, great or small, but all about was a bright calm. 95 But I alone moored my black ship outside, there on the border of the land, making the cables fast to the rock. Then I climbed to a rugged height, a point of outlook, and there took my stand; from there no works of oxen or of men appeared; smoke alone we saw springing up from the land. 100 So then I sent forth some of my comrades to go and learn who the men were, who here ate bread upon the earth—two men I chose, and sent with them a third as a herald. Now when they had gone ashore, they went along a smooth road by which wagons used to bring wood down to the city from the high mountains. 105 And before the city they met a maiden drawing water, the noble daughter of Laestrygonian Antiphates, who had come down to the fair-flowing spring Artacia, from which they used to carry water to the town. So they came up to her and spoke to her, 110 and asked her who was king of this people, and who they were of whom he was lord. And she showed them at once the high-roofed house of her father. Now when they had entered the glorious house, they found there his wife, huge as the peak of a mountain, and they were aghast at her. At once she called from the place of assembly the glorious Antiphates, 115 her husband, and he devised for them woeful destruction. At once he seized one of my comrades and made ready his meal, but the other two sprang up and came in flight to the ships. Then he raised a cry throughout the city, and as they heard it the mighty Laestrygonians came thronging from all sides, 120 a host past counting, not like men but like the Giants. They hurled at us from the cliffs with rocks huge as a man could lift, and at once there rose throughout the ships a dreadful din, alike from men that were dying and from ships that were being crushed. And spearing them like fishes they bore them home, a loathsome meal. 125 Now while they were slaying those within the deep harbor, I meanwhile drew my sharp sword from beside my thigh, and cut with it the cables of my dark-prowed ship; and quickly calling to my comrades told them to fall to their oars, that we might escape out of our evil plight. 130 And they all tossed the sea with their oar-blades in fear of death, and joyfully seaward, away from the beetling cliffs, my ship sped on; but all those other ships were lost together there. “From there we sailed on, grieved at heart, glad to have escaped death, though we had lost our dear comrades; 135 and we came to the isle of Aeaea, where lived fair-tressed Circe, a dread goddess of human speech, own sister to Aeetes of baneful mind; and both are sprung from Helius, who gives light to mortals, and from Perse, their mother, whom Oceanus begot. 140 Here we put in to shore with our ship in silence, into a harbor where ships may lie, and some god guided us. Then we disembarked, and lay there for two days and two nights, eating our hearts for weariness and sorrow. But when fair-tressed Dawn brought to its birth the third day, 145 then I took my spear and my sharp sword, and quickly went up from the ship to a place of wide prospect, in the hope that I might see the works of men, and hear their voice. So I climbed to a rugged height, a place of outlook, and there took my stand, and I saw smoke rising from the broad-wayed earth 150 in the halls of Circe, through the thick brush and the wood. And I debated in mind and heart, whether I should go and make search, when I had seen the flaming smoke. And as I pondered, this seemed to me to be the better way, to go first to the swift ship and the shore of the sea, 155 and give my comrades their meal, and send them forth to make search. But when, as I went, I was near to the curved ship, then some god took pity on me in my loneliness, and sent a great, high-horned stag into my very path. He was coming down to the river from his pasture in the wood 160 to drink, for the might of the sun oppressed him; and as he came out I struck him on the spine in the middle of the back, and the bronze spear passed right through him, and down he fell in the dust with a moan, and his spirit flew from him. Then I planted my foot upon him, 165 and drew the bronze spear forth from the wound, and left it there to lie on the ground. But for myself, I plucked twigs and osiers, and weaving a rope about a fathom in length, well twisted from end to end, I bound together the feet of the monstrous beast, and went my way to the black ship, bearing him across my back and 170 leaning on my spear, since in no way could I hold him on my shoulder with one hand, for he was a very mighty beast. Down I flung him before the ship, and heartened my comrades with gentle words, coming up to each man in turn: “‘Friends, not yet shall we go down 175 to the house of Hades, despite our sorrows, before the day of fate comes upon us. No, come, while there is still food and drink in our swift ship, let us think of food, so that we do not waste away with hunger.’ “So I spoke, and they quickly listened to my words. From their faces they drew their cloaks, 180 and marvelled at the stag on the shore of the unresting sea, for he was a very mighty beast. But when they had satisfied their eyes with gazing, they washed their hands, and made ready a glorious feast. So then all day long till set of sun we sat feasting on abundant flesh and sweet wine. 185 But when the sun set and darkness came on, then we lay down to rest on the shore of the sea. And as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, I called my men together, and spoke among them all: “‘Listen to my words, comrades, for all your evil plight. 190 My friends, we do not know where the darkness is or where the dawn, neither where the sun, who gives light to mortals, goes beneath the earth, nor where he rises; but let us at once consider whether any plan is still left to us. As for me, I do not think that there is. For I climbed to a rugged point of outlook, and beheld 195 the island, about which is set as a crown the boundless deep. The isle itself lies low, and in the midst of it my eyes saw smoke through the thick brush and the wood.’ “So I spoke, and their spirit was broken within them, as they remembered the deeds of the Laestrygonian, Antiphates, 200 and the violence of the great-hearted Cyclops, the man-eater. And they wailed aloud, and shed big tears. But no good came of their mourning. “Then I told off in two bands all my well-greaved comrades, and appointed a leader for each band. 205 Of the one I took command, and of the other godlike Eurylochus. Quickly then we shook lots in a brazen helmet, and out leapt the lot of great-hearted Eurylochus. So he set out, and with him went two-and-twenty comrades, all weeping; and they left us behind, lamenting. 210 Within the forest glades they found the house of Circe, built of polished stone in a place of wide outlook, and round about it were mountain wolves and lions, whom Circe herself had bewitched; for she gave them evil drugs. Yet these beasts did not rush upon my men, 215 but pranced about them fawningly, wagging their long tails. And as when hounds fawn around their master as he comes from a feast, for he always brings them bits to soothe their temper, so about them fawned the stout-clawed wolves and lions; but they were seized with fear, as they saw the dread monsters. 220 So they stood in the gateway of the fair-tressed goddess, and within they heard Circe singing with sweet voice, as she went to and fro before a great imperishable web, such as is the handiwork of goddesses, finely-woven and beautiful, and glorious. Then among them spoke Polites, a leader of men, 225 dearest to me of my comrades, and trustiest: “‘Friends, within someone goes to and fro before a great web, singing sweetly, so that all the floor echoes; some goddess it is, or some woman. Come, let us quickly call to her.’ “So he spoke, and they cried aloud, and called to her. 230 And she at once came forth and opened the bright doors, and invited them in; and all went with her in their folly. Only Eurylochus remained behind, for he suspected that there was a snare. She brought them in and made them sit on chairs and seats, and made for them a potion of cheese and barley meal and yellow honey 235 with Pramnian wine; but in the food she mixed baneful drugs, that they might utterly forget their native land. Now when she had given them the potion, and they had drunk it off, then she at once struck them with her wand, and penned them in the sties. And they had the heads, and voice, and bristles, 240 and shape of swine, but their minds remained unchanged even as before. So they were penned there weeping, and before them Circe flung mast and acorns, and the fruit of the cornel tree, to eat, such things as wallowing swine usually feed on. “But Eurylochus came back at once to the swift, black ship, 245 to bring news of his comrades and their shameful doom. Not a word could he utter, for all his desire, so stricken to the heart was he with great distress, and his eyes were filled with tears, and his spirit was set on lamentation. But when we questioned him in amazement, 250 then he told the fate of the others, his comrades. “‘We went through the thickets, as you told us, noble Odysseus. We found in the forest glades a fair palace, built of polished stones, in a place of wide outlook. There someone was going to and fro before a great web, and singing with clear voice, 255 some goddess or some woman, and they cried aloud, and called to her. And she came forth at once, and opened the bright doors, and invited them in; and they all went with her in their folly. But I remained behind, for I suspected that there was a snare. Then they all vanished together, nor did one of them 260 appear again, though I sat long and watched.’ “So he spoke, and I cast my silver-studded sword about my shoulders, a great sword of bronze, and slung my bow about me, and told him to lead me back by the same road. But he clasped me with both hands, and implored me by my knees, 265 and with wailing he spoke to me winged words: “‘Do not lead me there against my will, O you fostered by Zeus, but leave me here. For I know that you will neither come back yourself, nor bring any of your comrades. No, with these that are here let us flee with all speed, for we may still perhaps escape the evil day.’ 270 “So he spoke, but I answered him, and said:‘Eurylochus, stay here in this place, eating and drinking by the hollow, black ship; but I will go, for strong necessity is laid upon me.’ “So saying, I went up from the ship and the sea. 275 But when, as I went through the sacred glades, I was about to come to the great house of the sorceress, Circe, then Hermes, of the golden wand, met me as I went toward the house, in the likeness of a young man with the first down upon his lip, in whom the charm of youth is fairest. 280 He clasped my hand, and spoke, and addressed me: “‘Where are you going now again, unlucky man, alone through the hills, knowing nothing of the country? See, your comrades over there in the house of Circe are penned like swine in close-barred sties. And have you come to release them? No, I tell you, you shall not 285 return yourself, but shall remain there with the others. But come, I will free you from harm, and save you. Here, take this potent herb, and go to the house of Circe, and it shall ward off from your head the evil day. And I will tell you all the baneful wiles of Circe. 290 She will mix you a potion, and cast drugs into the food; but even so she shall not be able to bewitch you, for the potent herb that I shall give you will not allow it. And I will tell you all. When Circe strikes you with her long wand, then draw your sharp sword from beside your thigh, 295 and rush upon Circe, as though you would slay her. And she will be seized with fear, and will bid you lie with her. Then do not afterward refuse the couch of the goddess, that she may set free your comrades, and give entertainment to you. But make her swear a great oath by the blessed gods, 300 that she will not plot against you any fresh mischief to your hurt, lest when she has you stripped she may render you a weakling and unmanned.’ “So saying, Argeiphontes gave me the herb, drawing it from the ground, and showed me its nature. At the root it was black, but its flower was like milk. 305 Moly the gods call it, and it is hard for mortal men to dig; but with the gods all things are possible. Hermes then departed to high Olympus through the wooded isle, and I went my way to the house of Circe, and many things did my heart darkly ponder as I went. 310 So I stood at the gates of the fair-tressed goddess. There I stood and called, and the goddess heard my voice. At once then she came forth, and opened the bright doors, and invited me in; and I went with her, my heart deeply troubled. She brought me in and made me sit on a silver-studded chair, 315 a beautiful chair, richly wrought, and beneath was a foot-stool for the feet. And she prepared me a potion in a golden cup, that I might drink, and put a drug in it, with evil purpose in her heart. But when she had given it to me, and I had drunk it off, yet was not bewitched, she struck me with her wand, and spoke, and addressed me: 320 ‘Go now to the sty, and lie with the rest of your comrades.’ “So she spoke, but I, drawing my sharp sword from beside my thigh, rushed upon Circe, as though I would slay her. But she, with a loud cry, ran beneath, and clasped my knees, and with wailing she spoke to me winged words: 325 “‘Who are you among men, and from where? Where is your city, and where your parents? Amazement holds me that you have drunk this charm and were in no way bewitched. For no other man at all has withstood this charm, when once he has drunk it, and it has passed the barrier of his teeth. No, the mind in your breast is one not to be beguiled. 330 Surely you are Odysseus, the man of ready device, who Argeiphontes of the golden wand always said to me would come here on his way home from Troy with his swift, black ship. But come, put up your sword in its sheath, and let us two then go up into my bed, that couched together 335 in love we may put trust in each other.’ “So she spoke, but I answered her, and said:‘Circe, how can you bid me be gentle to you, who have turned my comrades into swine in your halls, and now keep me here, and with guileful purpose bid me 340 go to your chamber, and go up into your bed, that when you have me stripped you may render me a weakling and unmanned? No, truly, it is not I that shall be glad to go up into your bed, unless you, goddess, will consent to swear a mighty oath that you will not plot against me any fresh mischief to my hurt.’ 345 “So I spoke, and she at once swore the oath to do me no harm, as I asked her. But when she had sworn, and made an end of the oath, then I went up to the beautiful bed of Circe. “But her handmaids meanwhile were busied in the halls, four maidens who are her serving-women in the house. 350 Children are they of the springs and groves, and of the sacred rivers that flow forth to the sea, and of them one threw upon chairs fair rugs of purple above, and spread beneath them a linen cloth; another drew up before the chairs tables 355 of silver, and set upon them golden baskets; and the third mixed sweet, honey-hearted wine in a bowl of silver, and served out golden cups; and the fourth brought water, and kindled a great fire beneath a large cauldron, and the water grew warm. 360 But when the water boiled in the bright bronze, she set me in a bath, and bathed me with water out of the great cauldron, mixing it to my liking, and pouring it over my head and shoulders, till she took from my limbs soul-consuming weariness. But when she had bathed me, and anointed me richly with oil, 365 and had cast about me a fair cloak and a tunic, she brought me into the hall, and made me sit upon a silver-studded chair—a beautiful chair, richly wrought, and beneath was a foot-stool for the feet. Then a handmaid brought water for the hands in a fair pitcher of gold, and poured it over a silver basin 370 for me to wash, and beside me drew up a polished table. And the grave housekeeper brought and set before me bread, and with it food in abundance, granting freely of her store. Then she told me to eat, but my heart was not inclined to it. Rather, I sat with other thoughts, and my spirit boded ill. 375 “Now when Circe noted that I sat thus, and did not put forth my hands to the food, but was burdened with deep grief, she came close to me, and spoke winged words: “‘Why, Odysseus, do you sit thus like one that is dumb, eating your heart, and do not touch food or drink? 380 Do you perhaps suspect some other guile? No, you need in no way fear, for I have already sworn a mighty oath to do you no harm.’ “So she spoke, but I answered her, and said:‘Circe, what man that is right-minded could bring himself to taste food or drink, 385 before he had won freedom for his comrades, and beheld them before his face? But if you with a ready heart bid me eat and drink, set them free, that my eyes may behold my trusty comrades.’ “So I spoke, and Circe went forth through the hall holding her wand in her hand, and opened the doors of the sty, 390 and drove them out in the form of swine of nine years old. So they stood there before her, and she went through the midst of them, and anointed each man with another charm. Then from their limbs the bristles fell away which the baneful drug that queenly Circe gave them had before made to grow, 395 and they became men again, younger than they were before, and far comelier and taller to look upon. They knew me, and clung to my hands, each man of them, and upon them all came a passionate sobbing, and the house about them rang wondrously, and the goddess herself was moved to pity. 400 “Then the beautiful goddess drew near me, and said: ‘Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, go now to your swift ship and to the shore of the sea. First of all draw the ship up on the land, and store your goods and all the tackling in caves. 405 Then come back yourself, and bring your trusty comrades.’ “So she spoke, and my proud heart consented. I went my way to the swift ship and the shore of the sea, and there I found my trusty comrades by the swift ship, wailing piteously, shedding big tears. 410 And as when calves in a farmstead sport about the droves of cows returning to the yard, when they have had their fill of grazing—all together they frisk before them, and the pens no longer hold them, but with constant lowing they run about their mothers—so those men, when their eyes beheld me, 415 thronged about me weeping, and it seemed to their hearts as though they had got to their native land, and the very city of rugged Ithaca, where they were bred and born. And with wailing they spoke to me winged words: “‘At your return, O you fostered by Zeus, we are as glad 420 as though we had returned to Ithaca, our native land. But come, tell the fate of the others, our comrades.’ “So they spoke, and I answered them with gentle words: ‘First of all let us draw the ship up on the land, and store our goods and all the tackling in caves. 425 Then hurry, one and all, to go with me that you may see your comrades in the sacred halls of Circe, drinking and eating, for they have unfailing store.’ “So I spoke, and they quickly listened to my words. Eurylochus alone sought to hold back all my comrades, 430 and he spoke, and addressed them with winged words: “‘Ah, wretched men, where are we going? Why are you so enamoured of these woes, as to go down to the house of Circe, who will change us all to swine, or wolves, or lions, that so we may guard her great house under compulsion? 435 Even so did the Cyclops, when our comrades went to his fold, and with them went this reckless Odysseus. For it was through this man's folly that they too perished.’ “So he spoke, and I pondered in heart, whether to draw my long sword from beside my stout thigh, 440 and with it strike off his head, and bring it to the ground, near kinsman of mine by marriage though he was; but my comrades one after another sought to check me with gentle words: “‘O you sprung from Zeus, as for this man, we will leave him, if you so bid, to stay here by the ship, and to guard the ship, 445 but as for us, lead us to the sacred house of Circe.’ “So saying, they went up from the ship and the sea. Nor was Eurylochus left beside the hollow ship, but he went with us, for he feared my dread reproof. “Meanwhile in her halls Circe 450 bathed the rest of my comrades with kindly care, and anointed them richly with oil, and cast about them fleecy cloaks and tunics; and we found them all feasting bountifully in the halls. But when they saw and recognized one another, face to face, they wept and wailed, and the house rang around. 455 Then the beautiful goddess drew near me, and said: “‘No longer now stir up this abundant lamenting. Of myself I know both all the woes you have suffered on the teeming deep, and all the wrong that cruel men have done you on the land. 460 But come, eat food and drink wine, until you once more get spirit in your breasts such as when at the first you left your native land of rugged Ithaca; but now you are withered and spiritless, always thinking of your weary wanderings, nor are your 465 hearts ever joyful, for truly you have suffered much.’ “So she spoke, and our proud hearts consented. So there day after day for a full year we stayed, feasting on abundant flesh and sweet wine. But when a year was gone and the seasons turned, 470 as the months waned and the long days were brought in their course, then my trusty comrades called me forth, and said: “‘Strange man, think now at last of your native land, if it is fated for you to be saved, and to reach your high-roofed house and your native land.’ 475 “So they spoke, and my proud heart consented. So then all day long till set of sun we sat feasting on abundant flesh and sweet wine. But when the sun set and darkness came on, they lay down to sleep throughout the shadowy halls, 480 but I went up to the beautiful bed of Circe, and implored her by her knees; and the goddess heard my voice, and I spoke, and addressed her with winged words: “‘Circe, fulfil for me the promise which you gave to send me home; for my spirit is now eager to be gone, 485 and the spirit of my comrades, who make my heart pine, as they sit about me mourning, whenever you happen not to be at hand.’ “So I spoke, and the beautiful goddess at once made answer: ‘Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, stay now no longer in my house against your will; 490 but you must first complete another journey, and come to the house of Hades and dread Persephone, to seek prophecy from the spirit of Theban Teiresias, the blind prophet, whose mind abides steadfast. To him even in death Persephone has granted reason, 495 that he alone should have understanding; but the others flit about as shadows.’ “So she spoke, and my spirit was broken within me, and I wept as I sat on the bed, nor had my heart any longer desire to live and behold the light of the sun. But when I had my fill of weeping and writhing, 500 then I made answer, and addressed her, saying: “‘O Circe, who will guide us on this journey? To Hades no man ever yet went in a black ship.’ “So I spoke, and the beautiful goddess at once made answer: ‘Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, 505 let there be in your mind no concern for a pilot to guide your ship, but set up your mast, and spread the white sail, and sit down; and the breath of the North Wind will bear her onward. But when in your ship you have now crossed the stream of Oceanus, where there is a level shore and the groves of Persephone— 510 tall poplars, and willows that shed their fruit—there beach your ship by the deep eddying Oceanus, but go yourself to the dank house of Hades. There into Acheron flow Periphlegethon and Cocytus, which is a branch of the water of the Styx; 515 and there is a rock, and the meeting place of the two roaring rivers. There, prince, draw near, as I tell you, and dig a pit of a cubit's length this way and that, and around it pour a libation to all the dead, first with milk and honey, after that with sweet wine, 520 and in the third place with water, and sprinkle on it white barley meal. And earnestly entreat the powerless heads of the dead, vowing that when you come to Ithaca you will sacrifice in your halls a barren heifer, the best you have, and will fill the altar with rich gifts; and that to Teiresias alone you will sacrifice separately a ram, 525 wholly black, the finest of your flock. But when with prayers you have made supplication to the glorious tribes of the dead, then sacrifice a ram and a black ewe, turning their heads toward Erebus but yourself turning backward, and setting your face towards the streams of the river. Then many 530 ghosts of men that are dead will come forth. But after that call to your comrades, and tell them to flay and burn the sheep that lie there, slain by the pitiless bronze, and make prayer to the gods, to mighty Hades and to dread Persephone. 535 And draw your sharp sword yourself from beside your thigh, and sit there, not allowing the powerless heads of the dead to draw near to the blood, till you have enquired of Teiresias. Then the prophet will soon come to you, leader of men, and he will tell you your way and the measures of your path, 540 and of your return, how you may go over the teeming deep.’ “So she spoke, and at once came golden-throned Dawn. Round about me then she cast a cloak and tunic as clothing, and the nymph clothed herself in a long white robe, finely-woven and beautiful, and about her waist she cast 545 a fair girdle of gold, and upon her head she put a veil. But I went through the halls, and roused my men with gentle words, coming up to each man in turn. “‘No longer now sleep, and drowse in sweet slumber, but let us go; look! queenly Circe has told me all.’ 550 “So I spoke, and their proud hearts consented. But not even from there could I lead my men unscathed. There was one, Elpenor, the youngest of all, not very valiant in war nor sound of understanding, who had lain down apart from his comrades in the sacred house of Circe, 555 seeking the cool air, for he was heavy with wine. He heard the noise and the bustle of his comrades as they moved about, and suddenly sprang up, and forgot to go to the long ladder that he might come down again, but fell headlong from the roof, and his neck 560 was broken away from the spine, and his spirit went down to the house of Hades. “But as my men were going on their way I spoke among them, saying: ‘You think, no doubt, that you are going to your dear native land; but Circe has pointed out for us another journey, to the house of Hades and dread Persephone, 565 to consult the spirit of Theban Teiresias.’ “So I spoke, and their spirit was broken within them, and sitting down right where they were, they wept and tore their hair. But no good came of their lamenting. “But when we were on our way to the swift ship and the shore of the sea, 570 sorrowing and shedding big tears, meanwhile Circe had gone forth and made fast beside the black ship a ram and a black ewe, for easily had she passed us by. Who with his eyes could behold a god against his will, whether going to or fro?
11“But when we had come down to the ship and to the sea, first of all we drew the ship down to the bright sea, and set the mast and sail in the black ship, and took the sheep and put them aboard, 5 and ourselves embarked, sorrowing, and shedding big tears. And for our aid in the wake of our dark-prowed ship a fair wind that filled the sail, a fine comrade, was sent by fair-tressed Circe, dread goddess of human speech. So when we had made fast all the tackling throughout the ship, 10 we sat down, and the wind and the helmsman kept her course straight. All the day long her sail was stretched as she sped over the sea; and the sun set and all the ways grew dark. “She came to deep-flowing Oceanus, that bounds the Earth, where the land and city of the Cimmerians lie, 15 wrapped in mist and cloud. Never does the bright sun look down on them with his rays either when he mounts the starry heaven or when he turns again to earth from heaven, but deadly night is spread over wretched mortals. 20 There we came and beached our ship, and took out the sheep, and ourselves went beside the stream of Oceanus until we came to the place of which Circe had told us. “Here Perimedes and Eurylochus held the victims, while I drew my sharp sword from beside my thigh, 25 and dug a pit of a cubit's length this way and that, and around it poured a libation to all the dead, first with milk and honey, then with sweet wine, and in the third place with water, and I sprinkled white barley meal over it. And I earnestly entreated the powerless heads of the dead, 30 vowing that when I came to Ithaca I would sacrifice in my halls a barren heifer, the best I had, and pile the altar with fine gifts, and to Teiresias alone would sacrifice separately a ram, wholly black, the finest of my flocks. But when with vows and prayers 35 I had made supplication to the tribes of the dead, I took the sheep and cut their throats over the pit, and the dark blood ran forth. Then there gathered from out of Erebus the spirits of those that are dead, brides, and unwedded youths, and toil-worn old men, and tender maidens with hearts still new to sorrow, 40 and many, too, that had been wounded with bronze-tipped spears, men slain in fight, wearing their blood-stained armour. These came thronging in crowds about the pit from every side, with a wondrous cry; and pale fear seized me. Then I called to my comrades and ordered them to flay and burn 45 the sheep that lay there slain with the pitiless bronze, and to make prayer to the gods, to mighty Hades and dread Persephone. And I myself drew my sharp sword from beside my thigh and sat there, and would not allow the powerless heads of the dead 50 to draw near to the blood until I had inquired of Teiresias. “The first to come was the spirit of my comrade Elpenor. Not yet had he been buried beneath the broad-wayed earth, for we had left his corpse behind us in the hall of Circe, unwept and unburied, since another task was then urging us on. 55 When I saw him I wept, and my heart had compassion on him; and I spoke and addressed him with winged words: “‘Elpenor, how did you come beneath the murky darkness? You, coming on foot, have outstripped me in my black ship.’ “So I spoke, and with a groan he answered me and said: 60 ‘Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, an evil doom of some god was my undoing, and measureless wine. When I had lain down to sleep in the house of Circe I did not think to go to the long ladder so that I might come down again, but fell headlong from the roof, and my neck 65 was broken away from the spine and my spirit went down to the house of Hades. Now I beseech you by those whom we left behind, who are not present with us, by your wife and your father who reared you when a babe, and by Telemachus whom you left an only son in your halls; for I know that as you go from here, from the house of Hades, 70 you will touch at the Aeaean isle with your well-built ship. There, then, O prince, I bid you remember me. Do not leave me behind you unwept and unburied as you go from there, and do not turn away from me, lest I bring the wrath of the gods upon you. No, burn me with my armour, all that is mine, 75 and heap up a mound for me on the shore of the grey sea, in memory of an unhappy man, that men yet to be may learn of me. Fulfil this my prayer, and fix upon the mound my oar with which I rowed in life when I was among my comrades.’ “So he spoke, and I answered and said: 80 ‘All this, unhappy man, I will perform and do.’ “So we two sat and held sad talk with one another, I on one side holding my sword over the blood, while on the other side the phantom of my comrade spoke at length. “Then there came up the spirit of my dead mother, 85 Anticleia, the daughter of great-hearted Autolycus, whom I had left alive when I departed for sacred Ilios. At sight of her I wept, and my heart had compassion on her, but even so I would not allow her to come near the blood, for all my great sorrow, until I had inquired of Teiresias. 90 “Then there came up the spirit of the Theban Teiresias, bearing his golden staff in his hand, and he knew me and spoke to me: ‘Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, what now, hapless man? Why have you left the light of the sun and come here to behold the dead and a region where there is no joy? 95 No, move back from the pit and draw back your sharp sword, so that I may drink of the blood and tell you the truth.’ “So he spoke, and I moved back and thrust my silver-studded sword into its sheath, and when he had drunk the dark blood, then the blameless prophet spoke to me and said: 100 “‘You ask about your honey-sweet return, glorious Odysseus, but a god shall make this grievous for you; for I do not think that you will elude the Earth-shaker, seeing that he has laid up wrath in his heart against you, angered that you blinded his dear son. Yet even so you may reach home, though in evil plight, 105 if you will curb your own spirit and that of your comrades, as soon as you bring your well-built ship to the island Thrinacia, escaping from the violet sea, and you find grazing there the cattle and fine flocks of Helios, who oversees and overhears all things. 110 If you leave these unharmed and keep your mind on your homeward way, truly you may yet reach Ithaca, though in evil plight. But if you harm them, then I foresee ruin for your ship and your comrades, and even if you yourself escape, you will come home late and in evil case, after losing all your comrades, 115 in a ship that is another's, and you will find woes in your house—proud men that devour your livelihood, wooing your godlike wife, and offering suitors' gifts. Yet truly you will take vengeance on their violent deeds when you come. But when you have slain the suitors in your halls, 120 whether by guile or openly with the sharp sword, then go forth, taking a shapely oar, until you come to men that know nothing of the sea and do not eat food mingled with salt, yes, and they know nothing of ships with purple cheeks, 125 or of shapely oars that are as wings to ships. And I will tell you a sign quite plain, which will not escape you. When another wayfarer, on meeting you, says that you have a winnowing-fan on your stout shoulder, then fix your shapely oar in the earth 130 and make fine offerings to lord Poseidon—a ram, and a bull, and a boar that mates with sows—and depart for your home and offer sacred hecatombs to the immortal gods who hold broad heaven, to each one in due order. And death shall come to you yourself far from the sea, 135 a death so gentle, that shall lay you low when you are overcome with sleek old age, and your people shall dwell in prosperity around you. In this I have told you the truth.’ “So he spoke, and I answered and said: ‘Teiresias, all this, I think, the gods themselves have spun the thread. 140 But come, tell me this, and declare it truly. I see here the spirit of my dead mother; she sits in silence near the blood, and does not deign to look upon the face of her own son or to speak to him. Tell me, prince, how she may recognize that I am he?’ 145 “So I spoke, and he at once answered and said: ‘Easy is the word that I shall say and put in your mind. Whomever of those that are dead and gone you allow to draw near the blood, he will tell you the truth; but whomever you refuse, he surely will go back again.’ 150 “So saying the spirit of the prince, Teiresias, went back into the house of Hades, when he had declared his prophecies; but I remained there steadfastly until my mother came up and drank the dark blood. At once then she knew me, and with wailing she spoke to me winged words: 155 “‘My child, how did you come beneath the murky darkness, being still alive? It is hard for those that live to behold these realms, for between are great rivers and dread streams; Oceanus first, which one can in no way cross on foot, but only if one has a well-built ship. 160 Have you only now come here from Troy after long wanderings with your ship and your companions? and have you not yet reached Ithaca, nor seen your wife in your halls?’ “So she spoke, and I answered and said: ‘My mother, necessity brought me down to the house of Hades, 165 to seek prophecy from the spirit of Theban Teiresias. For not yet have I come near to the shore of Achaea, nor have I as yet set foot on my own land, but have always been wandering, laden with woe, from the day when I first went with goodly Agamemnon to Ilios, famed for its horses, to fight with the Trojans. 170 But come, tell me this, and declare it truly. What fate of grievous death overcame you? Was it long disease, or did the archer, Artemis, assail you with her gentle shafts, and slay you? And tell me of my father and my son, whom I left behind me. 175 Does the honor that was mine still abide with them, or does some other man now possess it, and do they say that I shall return no more? And tell me of my wedded wife, of her purpose and of her mind. Does she remain with her son, and keep all things safe? or has one already wedded her, whoever is best of the Achaeans?’ 180 “So I spoke, and my honored mother at once answered: ‘Yes, truly she remains with steadfast heart in your halls, and always sorrowfully for her the nights and the days wane, as she weeps. But the fair honor that was yours no man yet possesses, 185 but Telemachus holds your estate unharassed, and feasts at equal banquets, such as it is fitting that one who deals judgment should share, for all men invite him. But your father remains there in the tilled land, and does not come to the city, nor does he have, for bedding, bed and cloaks and bright coverlets, 190 but through the winter he sleeps in the house, where the slaves sleep, in the ashes by the fire, and wears poor clothing on his body. But when summer comes and rich autumn, then all about the slope of his vineyard plot are strewn his lowly beds of fallen leaves. 195 There he lies sorrowing, and nurses his great grief in his heart, in longing for your return, and heavy old age has come upon him. Even so did I too perish and meet my fate. Neither did the keen-sighted archer goddess assail me in my halls with her gentle shafts, and slay me, 200 nor did any disease come upon me, such as most often through grievous wasting takes the spirit from the limbs; no, it was longing for you, and for your counsels, glorious Odysseus, and for your tender-heartedness, that robbed me of honey-sweet life.’ “So she spoke, and I pondered in heart, and longed 205 to clasp the spirit of my dead mother. Three times I sprang towards her, and my heart urged me to clasp her, and three times she flitted from my arms like a shadow or a dream, and pain grew ever sharper at my heart. And I spoke and addressed her with winged words: 210 “‘My mother, why do you not stay for me, who am eager to clasp you, so that even in the house of Hades we two may cast our arms each about the other, and take our fill of chill lamenting. Is this only a phantom that august Persephone has sent me, so that I may lament and groan the more?’ 215 “So I spoke, and my honored mother at once answered: ‘Ah, my child, ill-fated above all men, in no way does Persephone, the daughter of Zeus, deceive you, but this is the appointed way with mortals when one dies. For the sinews no longer hold the flesh and the bones together, 220 but the strong might of blazing fire destroys these, as soon as the life leaves the white bones, and the spirit, like a dream, flits away, and hovers to and fro. But hurry to the light with what speed you can, and bear all these things in mind, so that you may later tell them to your wife.’ 225 “So we two talked with one another; and the women came, for august Persephone sent them forth, all those that had been the wives and the daughters of chieftains. These flocked in throngs about the dark blood, and I considered how I might question each; 230 and this seemed to my mind the best counsel. I drew my long sword from beside my stout thigh, and would not allow them to drink of the dark blood all at one time. So they drew near, one after the other, and each declared her birth, and I questioned them all. 235 “Then indeed the first that I saw was high-born Tyro, who said that she was the daughter of noble Salmoneus, and declared herself to be the wife of Cretheus, son of Aeolus. She fell in love with the river, divine Enipeus, who is far the fairest of rivers that send forth their streams upon the earth, 240 and she used to go to the fair waters of Enipeus. But the Enfolder and Shaker of the earth took his form, and lay with her at the mouths of the eddying river. And the dark wave stood about them like a mountain, vaulted-over, and hid the god and the mortal woman. 245 And he loosed her maiden girdle, and shed sleep upon her. But when the god had ended his work of love, he clasped her hand, and spoke, and addressed her: “‘Be glad, woman, in our love, and as the year goes on its course you shall bear glorious children, for not weak are the embraces 250 of a god. Tend and rear these. But now go to your house, and hold your peace, and tell no man; but know that I am Poseidon, the shaker of the earth.’ “So saying, he plunged beneath the surging sea. But she conceived and bore Pelias and Neleus, 255 who both became strong servants of great Zeus; and Pelias dwelt in spacious Iolcus, and was rich in flocks, and the other dwelt in sandy Pylos. But her other children she, the queenly among women, bore to Cretheus, namely Aeson, and Pheres, and Amythaon, who fought from chariots. 260 “And after her I saw Antiope, daughter of Asopus, who boasted that she had slept even in the arms of Zeus, and she bore two sons, Amphion and Zethus, who first established the seat of seven-gated Thebe, and fenced it in with walls, for they could not 265 dwell in spacious Thebe unfenced, however mighty they were. “And after her I saw Alcmene, wife of Amphitryon, who lay in the arms of great Zeus, and bore Heracles, staunch in fight, the lion-hearted. And Megara I saw, daughter of Creon, high-of-heart, 270 whom the son of Amphitryon, ever stubborn in might, had as his wife. “And I saw the mother of Oedipodes, fair Epicaste, who wrought a monstrous deed in ignorance of mind, in that she wedded her own son, and he, when he had slain his own father, wedded her, and at once the gods made these things known among men. 275 Yet he remained as lord of the Cadmeans in lovely Thebe, suffering woes through the deadly counsels of the gods, but she went down to the house of Hades, the strong warder. She made fast a noose on high from a lofty beam, overpowered by her sorrow, but for him she left behind woes 280 very many, all that the Avengers of a mother bring to pass. “And I saw beautiful Chloris, whom Neleus once wedded because of her beauty, when he had brought countless gifts of wooing. Youngest daughter was she of Amphion, son of Iasus, who once ruled mightily in Orchomenus of the Minyae. 285 And she was queen of Pylos, and bore to her husband glorious children, Nestor, and Chromius, and lordly Periclymenus, and besides these she bore noble Pero, a wonder to men. All that dwelt around sought her in marriage, but Neleus would give her to no man, except to him who 290 should drive from Phylace the cattle of mighty Iphicles, sleek and broad of brow; and hard they were to drive. These the blameless prophet alone undertook to drive off; but a grievous fate of the gods ensnared him, hard bonds and the herdsmen of the field. 295 But when at length the months and the days were being brought to fulfillment, as the year rolled round, and the seasons came on, then indeed mighty Iphicles released him, when he had told all the oracles; and the will of Zeus was fulfilled. “And I saw Lede, the wife of Tyndareus, who bore to Tyndareus two sons, stout of heart, 300 Castor the tamer of horses, and the boxer Polydeuces. These two the earth, the giver of life, covers, although alive, and even in the world below they have honor from Zeus. One day they live in turn, and one day they are dead; and they have won honor like that of the gods. 305 “And after her I saw Iphimedeia, wife of Aloeus, who declared that she had lain with Poseidon. She bore two sons, but short of life were they, godlike Otus, and far-famed Ephialtes—men whom the earth, the giver of grain, reared as the tallest, 310 and far the comeliest, after the famous Orion. For at nine years they were nine cubits in breadth and in height nine fathoms. Indeed, they threatened to raise the din of furious war against the immortals in Olympus. 315 They were eager to pile Ossa on Olympus, and Pelion, with its waving forests, on Ossa, so that heaven might be scaled. And this they would have accomplished, if they had reached the measure of manhood; but the son of Zeus, whom fair-haired Leto bore, slew them both before 320 the down blossomed beneath their temples and covered their chins with a full growth of beard. “And Phaedra and Procris I saw, and fair Ariadne, the daughter of Minos of deadly mind, whom Theseus once wished to bear from Crete to the hill of sacred Athens; but he had no joy of her, for before that, Artemis slew her 325 in sea-girt Dia because of the witness of Dionysus. “And Maera and Clymene I saw, and hateful Eriphyle, who took precious gold as the price of the life of her own lord. But I cannot tell or name all the wives and daughters of heroes that I saw; 330 before that, immortal night would wane. No, it is now time to sleep, either when I have gone to the swift ship and the crew, or here. My sending shall rest with the gods, and with you.” So he spoke, and they were all hushed in silence, and were held spell-bound throughout the shadowy halls. 335 Then among them white-armed Arete was the first to speak: “Phaeacians, how does this man seem to you for comeliness and stature, and for the balanced spirit within him? And moreover he is my guest, though each of you has a share in this honor. So do not be in haste to send him away, nor 340 stint your gifts to one in such need; for many are the treasures which lie stored in your halls by the favour of the gods.” Then among them spoke also the old lord Echeneus, who was an elder among the Phaeacians: “Friends, truly not wide of the mark or of our own thought 345 are the words of our wise queen. Yes, give heed to them. Yet it is on Alcinous here that deed and word depend.” Then again Alcinous answered him and said: “This word of hers shall surely hold, as surely as I live and am lord over the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar. 350 But let our guest, for all his great longing to return, nevertheless endure to remain until tomorrow, till I make all our gift complete. His sending shall rest with the men, with all, but most of all with me; for mine is the control in the land.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him and said: 355 “Lord Alcinous, renowned above all men, if you should ask me to remain here even for a year, and should further my sending, and give glorious gifts, even that I would choose; and it would be far better to come with a fuller hand to my dear native land. 360 Yes, and I should win more respect and love from all men who should see me when I had returned to Ithaca.” Then again Alcinous answered and said: “Odysseus, in no way as we look on you do we judge this of you, that you are a cheat and a dissembler, such as are many 365 whom the dark earth breeds scattered far and wide, men that fashion lies out of what no man can even see. But upon you is grace of words, and within you is a heart of wisdom, and you have told your tale with skill, as a minstrel does, the grievous woes of all the Argives and of your own self. 370 But come, tell me this, and declare it truly, whether you saw any of your godlike comrades, who went to Ilios together with you, and there met their fate. The night is before us, long, yes, wondrously long, and it is not yet the time for sleep in the hall. Tell on, I beg you, the tale of these wondrous deeds. 375 Truly I could stay until bright dawn, if you would be willing to tell in the hall of these woes of yours.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him and said: “Lord Alcinous, renowned above all men, there is a time for many words and there is a time also for sleep. 380 But if you are eager still to listen, I would not begrudge to tell you of other things more pitiful still than these, the woes of my comrades, who perished afterward, who escaped from the dread battle-cry of the Trojans, but perished on their return through the will of an evil woman. 385 “When then holy Persephone had scattered this way and that the spirits of the women, there came up the spirit of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, sorrowing; and round about him others were gathered, spirits of all those who were slain with him in the house of Aegisthus, and met their fate. 390 He knew me at once, when he had drunk the dark blood, and he wept aloud, and shed big tears, and stretched forth his hands toward me eager to reach me. But no longer had he anything of strength or might remaining such as of old was in his supple limbs. 395 “When I saw him I wept, and my heart had compassion on him, and I spoke, and addressed him with winged words: ‘Most glorious son of Atreus, king of men, Agamemnon, what fate of grievous death overcame you? Did Poseidon strike you on board your ships, 400 when he had roused a furious blast of cruel winds? Or did enemies do you harm on the land, while you were cutting off their cattle and fair flocks of sheep, or were fighting to win their city and their women?’ “So I spoke, and he at once answered and said: 405 ‘Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, neither did Poseidon strike me on board my ships, when he had roused a furious blast of cruel winds, nor did enemies do me harm on the land, but Aegisthus wrought for me death and fate, 410 and slew me with the aid of my accursed wife, when he had invited me to his house and made me a feast, as one slays an ox at the stall. So I died by a most pitiful death, and round about me the rest of my comrades were slain unceasingly like white-tusked swine, which are slaughtered in the house of a rich man of great might 415 at a marriage feast, or a joint meal, or a rich drinking-bout. Before now you have been present at the slaying of many men, killed in single combat or in the press of the fight, but in heart you would have felt most pity had you seen that sight, how about the mixing bowl and the laden tables 420 we lay in the hall, and the floor all swam with blood. But the most piteous cry that I heard was that of the daughter of Priam, Cassandra, whom guileful Clytemnestra slew by my side. And I sought to raise my hands and strike down the murderess, dying though I was, pierced through with the sword. But she, the shameless one, 425 turned her back upon me, and even though I was going to the house of Hades did not deign to draw down my eyelids with her fingers or to close my mouth. So true is it that there is nothing more dread or more shameless than a woman who puts into her heart such deeds, as she too devised a monstrous thing, 430 contriving death for her wedded husband. Truly I thought that I should come home welcome to my children and to my slaves; but she, with her heart set on utter wickedness, has shed shame on herself and on women yet to be, even upon her that does uprightly.’ 435 “So he spoke, and I answered and said: ‘Ah, truly has Zeus, whose voice is borne afar, visited wondrous hatred on the race of Atreus from the first because of the counsels of women. For Helen's sake many of us perished, and against you Clytemnestra spread a snare while you were far away.’ 440 “So I spoke, and he at once answered and said: ‘So in your own case never be gentle even to your wife. Do not declare to her all the thoughts of your heart, but tell her something, and let something also be hidden. Yet not upon you, Odysseus, shall death come from your wife, 445 for very prudent and of an understanding heart is the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope. Truly we left her a bride newly wed, when we went to the war, and a boy was at her breast, a babe, who now, I think, sits in the ranks of men, 450 happy in that his dear father will behold him when he comes, and he will greet his father as is fitting. But my wife did not let me sate my eyes even with sight of my own son. No, before that she slew even me, her husband. And another thing I will tell you, and lay it to heart: 455 in secret and not openly bring your ship to the shore of your dear native land; for no longer is there faith in women. But, come, tell me this, and declare it truly, whether perhaps you hear of my son as yet alive in Orchomenus it may be, or in sandy Pylos, 460 or else with Menelaus in wide Sparta; for not yet has goodly Orestes perished on the earth.’ “So he spoke, and I answered and said: ‘Son of Atreus, why do you question me about this? I do not know at all whether he is alive or dead, and it is an ill thing to speak words vain as wind.’ 465 “So we two stood and held sad talk with one another, sorrowing and shedding big tears; and there came up the spirit of Achilles, son of Peleus, and those of Patroclus and of peerless Antilochus and of Aias, who in comeliness and form was the finest 470 of all the Danaans after the peerless son of Peleus. And the spirit of the swift-footed son of Aeacus recognized me, and weeping, spoke to me winged words: “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, rash man, what deed yet greater than this will you devise in your heart? 475 How did you dare to come down to Hades, where dwell the unheeding dead, the phantoms of men outworn.’ “‘So he spoke, and I answered and said:‘Achilles, son of Peleus, far the mightiest of the Achaeans, I came through need of Teiresias, in the hope that 480 he would tell me some plan by which I might reach rugged Ithaca. For not yet have I come near to the land of Achaea, nor have I as yet set foot on my own country, but am always suffering woes; whereas than you, Achilles, no man before was more blessed nor shall ever be hereafter. For of old, when you were alive, we Argives honored you as the gods, 485 and now that you are here, you rule mightily among the dead. So do not grieve at all that you are dead, Achilles.’ “So I spoke, and he at once answered and said: ‘No, do not seek to speak soothingly to me of death, glorious Odysseus. I should choose, if I might live on earth, to serve as the hireling of another, 490 of some portionless man whose livelihood was only small, rather than to be lord over all the dead that have perished. But come, tell me news of my son, that lordly youth, whether or not he followed to the war to be a leader. And tell me of noble Peleus, if you have heard anything, 495 whether he still has honor among the host of the Myrmidons, or whether men do him dishonor throughout Hellas and Phthia, because old age binds him hand and foot. For I am not there to bear him aid beneath the rays of the sun in such strength as once was mine in wide Troy, 500 when I slew the best of the host in defence of the Argives. If only in such strength I could come, were it only for an hour, to my father's house, I would make many a one of those who do him violence and keep him from his honor rue my strength and my invincible hands.’ “So he spoke, and I answered and said: 505 ‘Truly of noble Peleus I have heard nothing, but as touching your dear son, Neoptolemus, I will tell you all the truth, as you ask me. It was I, myself, who brought him from Scyros in my shapely, hollow ship to join the host of the well-greaved Achaeans. 510 And truly, as often as we took counsel around the city of Troy, he was always the first to speak, and made no miss of words; godlike Nestor and I alone surpassed him. But as often as we fought with the bronze on the Trojan plain, he would never remain behind in the throng or press of men, 515 but would always run forth far to the front, yielding to none in his might; and many men he slew in dread combat. All of them I could not tell or name, all the host that he slew in defence of the Argives; but what a warrior was that son of Telephus whom he slew with the sword, 520 the prince Eurypylus! Yes, and many of his comrades, the Ceteians, were slain about him, because of gifts a woman craved. He truly was the comeliest man I saw, next to goodly Memnon. And again, when we, the best of the Argives, were about to go down into the horse which Epeus made, and the command of all was laid upon me, 525 both to open and to close the door of our stout-built ambush, then the other leaders and counsellors of the Danaans would wipe away tears from their eyes, and each man's limbs shook beneath him, but never did my eyes see his fair face grow pale at all, nor see him 530 wiping tears from his cheeks; but he earnestly begged me to let him go forth from the horse, and kept handling his sword-hilt and his spear heavy with bronze, and was eager to work harm to the Trojans. But after we had sacked the lofty city of Priam, he went on board his ship with his share of the spoil and a fine prize— 535 all unscathed he was, neither struck with the sharp spear nor wounded in close fight, as often happens in war; for Ares rages confusedly.’ “So I spoke, and the spirit of the son of Aeacus departed with long strides over the field of asphodel, 540 joyful in that I said that his son was preeminent. “And other spirits of those dead and gone stood sorrowing, and each asked of those dear to him. Alone of them all the spirit of Aias, son of Telamon, stood apart, still full of wrath for the victory 545 that I had won over him in the contest by the ships for the arms of Achilles, whose honored mother had set them for a prize; and the judges were the sons of the Trojans and Pallas Athena. I wish that I had never won in the contest for such a prize, over so noble a head did the earth close because of those arms, 550 over Aias, who in comeliness and in deeds of war was above all the other Achaeans, next to the peerless son of Peleus. To him I spoke with soothing words: “‘Aias, son of peerless Telamon, were you then not even in death to forget your wrath against me because of 555 those accursed arms? Surely the gods set them to be a bane to the Argives: such a tower of strength was lost to them in you; and for you in death we Achaeans sorrow unceasingly, as for the life of Achilles, son of Peleus. Yet no other is to blame but Zeus, 560 who bore terrible hatred against the host of Danaan spearmen, and brought your doom on you. No, come here, prince, so that you may hear my word and my speech; and subdue your wrath and your proud spirit.’ “So I spoke, but he did not answer me a word, but went his way to Erebus to join the other spirits of those dead and gone. 565 Then he would nevertheless have spoken to me for all his wrath, or I to him, but the heart in my breast was eager to see the spirits of those others that are dead. “There then I saw Minos, the glorious son of Zeus, golden sceptre in hand, giving judgment to the dead 570 from his seat, while they sat and stood about the king through the wide-gated house of Hades, and asked him for judgment. “And after him I marked huge Orion driving together over the field of asphodel wild beasts which he himself had slain on the lonely hills, 575 and in his hands he held a club all of bronze, ever unbroken. “And I saw Tityos, son of glorious Gaea, lying on the ground. Over nine roods he stretched, and two vultures sat, one on either side, and tore his liver, plunging their beaks into his bowels, nor could he beat them off with his hands.[4] 580 For he had offered violence to Leto, the glorious wife of Zeus, as she went toward Pytho through Panopeus with its lovely lawns. “Yes, and I saw Tantalus in violent torment, standing in a pool, and the water came near to his chin. He seemed like one thirsty, but could not take and drink; 585 for as often as that old man stooped down, eager to drink, so often would the water be swallowed up and vanish away, and at his feet the black earth would appear, for some god made all dry. And trees, high and leafy, let their fruits stream above his head, pears, and pomegranates, and apple trees with their bright fruit, 590 and sweet figs, and luxuriant olives. But as often as that old man would reach out toward these, to clutch them with his hands, the wind would toss them to the shadowy clouds. “Yes, and I saw Sisyphus in violent torment, seeking to raise a monstrous stone with both his hands. 595 Truly he would brace himself with hands and feet, and thrust the stone toward the crest of a hill, but as often as he was about to heave it over the top, the weight would turn it back, and then down again to the plain would come rolling the ruthless stone. But he would strain again and thrust it back, and the sweat 600 flowed down from his limbs, and dust rose up from his head. “And after him I marked the mighty Heracles—his phantom; for he himself among the immortal gods takes his joy in the feast, and has as his wife Hebe, of the fair ankles, daughter of great Zeus and of Hera, of the golden sandals. 605 About him rose a clamor from the dead, as of birds flying everywhere in terror; and he like dark night, with his bow bare and with arrow on the string, glared about him terribly, like one about to shoot. Awful was the belt about his breast, 610 a baldric of gold, on which wondrous things were fashioned, bears and wild boars, and lions with flashing eyes, and conflicts, and battles, and murders, and slayings of men. May he never have designed, or hereafter design such another, he who stored up in his craft the device of that belt. 615 He in turn knew me when his eyes beheld me, and weeping spoke to me winged words: “‘Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, ah, wretched man, do you, too, drag out an evil lot such as I once bore beneath the rays of the sun? 620 I was the son of Zeus, son of Cronos, but I had woe beyond measure; for to a man far worse than I was I made subject, and he laid on me hard labours. Indeed, he once sent me here to fetch the hound of Hades, for he could devise for me no other task mightier than this. 625 The hound I carried off and led forth from the house of Hades; and Hermes was my guide, and flashing-eyed Athena.’ “So saying, he went his way again into the house of Hades, but I remained there steadfastly, in the hope that some other might still come forth of the warrior heroes who died in the days of old. 630 And I should have seen yet others of the men of former time, whom I longed to behold, Theseus and Peirithous, glorious children of the gods, but before that the myriad tribes of the dead came thronging up with a wondrous cry, and pale fear seized me, lest 635 august Persephone might send forth upon me from out of the house of Hades the head of the Gorgon, that awful monster. “At once then I went to the ship and ordered my comrades themselves to embark, and to loose the stern cables. So they went on board quickly and sat down upon the benches. And the ship was borne down the stream Oceanus by the swelling flood, 640 first with our rowing, and afterwards the wind was fair.
12“Now after our ship had left the stream of the river Oceanus and had come to the wave of the broad sea, and the Aeaean isle, where is the dwelling of early Dawn and her dancing-lawns, and the risings of the sun, 5 there on our coming we beached our ship on the sands, and ourselves went out upon the shore of the sea, and there we fell asleep, and waited for the bright Dawn. “As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, then I sent out my comrades to the house of Circe 10 to fetch the body of the dead Elpenor. At once then we cut logs of wood and gave him burial where the headland runs furthest out to sea, sorrowing and shedding big tears. But when the dead man was burned, and the armour of the dead, we heaped up a mound and dragged on to it a pillar, 15 and on the top of the mound we planted his shapely oar. “We then were busied with these several tasks, yet Circe was not unaware of our coming out from the house of Hades, but speedily she dressed herself and came, and her handmaids brought with her bread and meat in abundance and flaming red wine. 20 And the beautiful goddess stood in our midst, and spoke among us, saying: “‘Rash men, who have gone down alive to the house of Hades to meet death twice, while other men die but once. No, come, eat food and drink wine here this whole day through; but at the coming of Dawn 25 you shall set sail, and I will point out the way and declare to you each thing, in order that you may not suffer pain and woes through wretched ill-contriving either by sea or on land.’ “So she spoke, and our proud hearts consented. So then all day long till set of sun 30 we sat feasting on abundant flesh and sweet wine. But when the sun set and darkness came on, they lay down to rest beside the stern cables of the ship; but Circe took me by the hand, and leading me apart from my dear comrades, made me sit, and herself lay down close at hand and asked me all the tale. 35 And I told her all in due order. Then queenly Circe spoke to me and said: “All these things have thus found an end; but listen as I shall tell you, and a god shall himself bring it to your mind. To the Sirens first shall you come, who 40 beguile all men whoever comes to them. Whoever in ignorance draws near to them and hears the Sirens' voice, he never again returns, that his wife and little children may stand at his side rejoicing, but the Sirens beguile him with their clear-toned song, 45 as they sit in a meadow, and about them is a great heap of bones of mouldering men, and round the bones the skin is shrivelling. But row past them, and anoint the ears of your comrades with sweet wax, which you have kneaded, lest any of the rest may hear. But if you yourself have a will to listen, 50 let them bind you in the swift ship hand and foot upright in the step of the mast, and let the ropes be made fast at the ends to the mast itself, that with delight you may listen to the voice of the two Sirens. And if you implore and bid your comrades to loose you, then let them bind you with yet more bonds. 55 But when your comrades shall have rowed past these, after that I shall not fully say on which side your course is to lie, but ponder it in mind yourself, and I will tell you of both ways. For on the one hand are overhanging crags, and against them 60 roars the great wave of dark-eyed Amphitrite; the Planctae the blessed gods call these. By that way not even winged things may pass, no, not the timorous doves that bear ambrosia to father Zeus, but the smooth rock ever snatches away one even of these, 65 and the father sends in another to make up the number. And by that way no ship of men that has come there has ever yet escaped, but the planks of ships and bodies of men are whirled confusedly by the waves of the sea and the blasts of baneful fire. One seafaring ship alone has passed that way, 70 that Argo famed of all, on her voyage from Aeetes, and even her the wave would speedily have dashed there against the great crags, had not Hera sent her through, because Jason was dear to her. “‘Now on the other path are two cliffs, one of which reaches with its sharp peak to the broad heaven, and a dark cloud surrounds it. 75 This never melts away, nor does clear sky ever surround that peak in summer or in harvest time. No mortal man could scale it or set foot upon the top, not though he had twenty hands and feet; for the rock is smooth, as if it were polished. 80 And in the midst of the cliff is a dim cave, turned to the West, toward Erebus, even where you shall steer your hollow ship, glorious Odysseus. Not even a man of might could shoot an arrow from the hollow ship so as to reach into that vaulted cave. 85 In it dwells Scylla, yelping terribly. Her voice is indeed but as the voice of a new-born whelp, but she herself is an evil monster, nor would anyone be glad at sight of her, no, not though it were a god that met her. Truly she has twelve feet, all misshapen, 90 and six necks, exceedingly long, and on each one an awful head, and in it three rows of teeth, thick and close, and full of black death. Up to her middle she is hidden in the hollow cave, but she holds her head out beyond the dread chasm, 95 and fishes there, eagerly searching around the rock for dolphins and sea-dogs and whatever greater beast she may perhaps catch, such creatures as deep-moaning Amphitrite rears in multitudes past counting. By her no sailors yet may boast that they have fled unscathed in their ship, for with each head she carries off 100 a man, snatching him from the dark-prowed ship. “‘But the other cliff, you will note, Odysseus, is lower—they are close to each other; you could even shoot an arrow across—and on it is a great fig tree with rich foliage, but beneath this divine Charybdis sucks down the black water. 105 Three times a day she belches it out, and three times she sucks it down terribly. May you not be there when she sucks it down, for no one could save you from ruin, no, not the Earth-shaker. No, draw very close to Scylla's cliff, and drive your ship past quickly; for it is better far 110 to mourn six comrades in your ship than all together.’ “So she spoke, but I made answer and said:‘Come, I pray you, goddess, tell me this thing truly, if in any way I might escape from fell Charybdis, and ward off that other, when she works harm to my comrades.’ 115 “So I spoke, and the beautiful goddess answered and said: ‘Rash man, see, now again your heart is set on the deeds of war and on toil. Will you not yield even to the immortal gods? She is not mortal, but an immortal bane, dread, and dire, and fierce, and not to be fought with; 120 there is no defence; to flee from her is bravest. For if you delay to arm yourself by the cliff, I fear lest she may again dart out and attack you with as many heads and seize as many men as before. No, row past with all your might, and call upon Crataiis, 125 the mother of Scylla, who bore her for a bane to mortals. Then she will keep her from darting out again. “‘And you will come to the isle Thrinacia. There in great numbers feed the cattle of Helios and his fine flocks, seven herds of cattle and as many fair flocks of sheep, 130 and fifty in each. These bear no young, nor do they ever die, and goddesses are their shepherds, fair-tressed nymphs, Phaethusa and Lampetie, whom beautiful Neaera bore to Helios Hyperion. These their honored mother, when she had borne and reared them, 135 sent to the isle Thrinacia to dwell far away, and keep the flocks of their father and his sleek cattle. If you leave these unharmed and heed your homeward way, truly you may yet reach Ithaca, though in evil plight. But if you harm them, then I foretell ruin 140 for your ship and for your comrades, and even if you yourself escape, late shall you come home and in evil case, after losing all your comrades.’ “So she spoke, and at once came golden-throned Dawn. Then the beautiful goddess departed up the island, but I went to the ship and roused my comrades 145 themselves to embark and to loose the stern cables. So they went on board at once and sat down upon the benches, and sitting well in order struck the grey sea with their oars. And for our aid in the wake of our dark-prowed ship a fair wind that filled the sail, a good comrade, was sent 150 by fair-tressed Circe, dread goddess of human speech. So when we had at once made fast all the tackling throughout the ship we sat down, but the wind and the helmsman guided the ship. “Then indeed I spoke among my comrades, grieved at heart: ‘Friends, since it is not right that one or two alone should know 155 the oracles that Circe, the beautiful goddess, told me, therefore I will tell them, in order that knowing them we may either die or, shunning death and fate, escape. First she told us to avoid the voice of the wondrous Sirens, and their flowery meadow. 160 Me alone she told to listen to their voice; but bind me with grievous bonds, that I may stay fast where I am, upright in the step of the mast, and let the ropes be made fast at the ends to the mast itself; and if I implore and bid you to loose me, then tie me fast with yet more bonds.’ 165 “Thus I recounted all these things and told them to my comrades. Meanwhile the well-built ship speedily came to the isle of the two Sirens, for a fair and gentle wind bore her on. Then at once the wind ceased and there was a windless calm, and a god lulled the waves to sleep. 170 But my comrades rose up and furled the sail and stowed it in the hollow ship, and after that sat at the oars and made the water white with their polished oars of fir. But I with my sharp sword cut into small bits a great round cake of wax, and kneaded it with my strong hands, 175 and soon the wax grew warm, forced by the strong pressure and the rays of the lord Helios Hyperion. Then I anointed with this the ears of all my comrades in turn; and they bound me in the ship hand and foot, upright in the step of the mast, and made the ropes fast at the ends to the mast itself; 180 and themselves sitting down struck the grey sea with their oars. But when we were as far distant as a man can make himself heard when he shouts, driving swiftly on our way, the Sirens did not fail to note the swift ship as it drew near, and they raised their clear-toned song: “‘Come here, as you fare, renowned Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans; 185 stop your ship that you may listen to the voice of us two. For never yet has any man rowed past this isle in his black ship until he has heard the sweet voice from our lips. No, he has joy of it, and goes his way a wiser man. For we know all the toils that in wide Troy 190 the Argives and Trojans endured through the will of the gods, and we know all things that come to pass upon the fruitful earth.’ “So they spoke, sending out their beautiful voice, and my heart longed to listen, and I told my comrades to loose me, nodding to them with my brows; but they fell to their oars and rowed on. 195 And at once Perimedes and Eurylochus arose and bound me with yet more bonds and drew them tighter. But when they had rowed past the Sirens, and we could no more hear their voice or their song, then at once my trusty comrades took away the 200 wax with which I had anointed their ears and loosed me from my bonds. “But when we had left the island, I at once saw smoke and a great billow, and heard a booming. Then from the hands of my men in their terror the oars flew, and splashed one and all in the swirl, and 205 the ship stood still where it was, when they no longer plied with their hands the tapering oars. But I went through the ship and cheered my men with gentle words, coming up to each man in turn: “‘Friends, until now we have been in no way ignorant of sorrow; surely this evil that besets us now is no greater than when the Cyclops 210 penned us in his hollow cave by brutal strength; yet even from there we made our escape through my valor and counsel and wit; these dangers, too, I think we shall some day remember. But now come, as I say, let us all obey. Keep your seats on the benches 215 and strike with your oars the deep surf of the sea, in the hope that Zeus may grant us to escape and avoid this death. And to you, steersman, I give this command, and lay it to heart, since you wield the steering oar of the hollow ship. From this smoke and surf keep 220 the ship well away and hug the cliff, lest, before you know it, the ship swerve off to the other side and you cast us into destruction.’ “So I spoke, and they quickly listened to my words. But of Scylla I did not go on to speak, a cureless bane, lest perhaps my comrades, seized with fear, should cease 225 from rowing and huddle together in the hold. Then indeed I forgot the hard command of Circe, when she told me in no way to arm myself; but when I had put on my glorious armour and grasped in my hand two long spears, I went to the fore-deck of the ship, 230 from where I thought that Scylla of the rock would first be seen, who was to bring ruin upon my comrades. But nowhere could I make her out, and my eyes grew weary as I gazed everywhere toward the misty rock. “We then sailed on up the narrow strait with wailing. 235 For on one side lay Scylla and on the other divine Charybdis terribly sucked down the salt water of the sea. Truly whenever she belched it out, like a cauldron on a great fire she would seethe and bubble in utter turmoil, and high overhead the spray would fall on the tops of both the cliffs. 240 But as often as she sucked down the salt water of the sea, within she could all be seen in utter turmoil, and all around the rock roared terribly, while beneath the earth appeared black with sand; and pale fear seized my men. So we looked toward her and feared destruction; 245 but meanwhile Scylla seized from out of the hollow ship six of my comrades who were the best in strength and in might. Turning my eyes to the swift ship and to the company of my men, even then I noted above me their feet and hands as they were raised aloft. To me they cried aloud, calling upon me 250 by name for that last time in anguish of heart. And as a fisherman on a jutting rock, when he casts in his baits as a snare to the little fishes, with his long pole lets down into the sea the horn of an ox of the farmstead, and then as he catches a fish flings it writhing ashore, 255 even so were they drawn writhing up towards the cliffs. Then at her doors she devoured them shrieking and stretching out their hands toward me in their awful death-struggle. Most piteous did my eyes behold that thing of all that I bore while I explored the paths of the sea. 260 “Now when we had escaped the rocks, and dread Charybdis and Scylla, soon then we came to the fine island of the god, where were the fair cattle, broad of brow, and the many fine flocks of Helios Hyperion. Then while I was still out at sea in my black ship, 265 I heard the lowing of the cattle that were being stalled and the bleating of the sheep, and upon my mind fell the words of the blind prophet, Theban Teiresias, and of Aeaean Circe, who very strictly charged me to shun the island of Helios, who gives joy to mortals. 270 Then indeed I spoke among my comrades, grieved at heart: “‘Hear my words, comrades, for all your evil plight, that I may tell you the oracles of Teiresias and of Aeaean Circe, who very strictly charged me to shun the island of Helios, who gives joy to mortals; 275 for there, she said, was our most terrible bane. No, row the black ship out past the island.’ “So I spoke, but their spirit was broken within them, and at once Eurylochus answered me with hateful words: “‘Hardy are you, Odysseus; you have strength beyond that of other men and your limbs never 280 grow weary. Truly you are wholly made of iron, seeing that you do not allow your comrades, worn out with toil and drowsiness, to set foot on shore, where on this sea-girt isle we might once more make ready a savoury supper; but you bid us even as we are to wander on through the swift night, 285 driven away from the island over the misty deep. It is from the night that fierce winds are born, wreckers of ships. How could one escape utter destruction, if perhaps there should suddenly come a blast of the South Wind or the blustering West Wind, which most often 290 wreck ships in defiance of the sovereign gods? No, truly for this time let us yield to black night and make ready our supper, remaining by the swift ship, and in the morning we will go aboard, and put out into the broad sea.’ “So spoke Eurylochus, and the rest of my comrades gave assent. 295 Then indeed I knew that some god was surely devising ill, and I spoke and addressed him with winged words: “‘Eurylochus, truly you force me, who stand alone. But come now, all of you swear to me a mighty oath, to the end that, if we perhaps find a herd of cattle or a great flock of sheep, 300 no man may slay either cow or sheep in the blind folly of his mind; but be content to eat the food which immortal Circe gave.’ “So I spoke; and they at once swore that they would not, even as I told them. But when they had sworn and made an end of the oath, 305 we moored our well-built ship in the hollow harbor near a spring of sweet water, and my comrades went out from the ship and skilfully made ready their supper. But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, then they fell to weeping, as they remembered their dear comrades 310 whom Scylla had snatched from out of the hollow ship and devoured; and sweet sleep came upon them as they wept. But when it was the third watch of the night, and the stars had turned their course, Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, roused against us a fierce wind with a wondrous tempest, and hid with clouds 315 the land and sea alike, and night rushed down from heaven. And as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, we dragged our ship, and made her fast in a hollow cave, where were the fair dancing-floors and seats of the nymphs. Then I called my men together and spoke among them: 320 “‘Friends, in our swift ship is food and drink; let us therefore keep our hands from those cattle lest we come to harm, for these are the cows and fine sheep of a dread god, even of Helios, who oversees all things and overhears all things.’ “So I spoke, and their proud hearts consented. 325 Then for a full month the South Wind blew unceasingly, nor did any other wind arise except the East and the South. “Now so long as my men had grain and red wine they kept their hands from the cattle, for they were eager to save their lives. But when all the stores had been consumed from out of the ship, 330 and now they had to roam about in search of game, fishes, and fowl, and whatever might come to their hands—fishing with bent hooks, for hunger pinched their bellies—then I went apart up the island that I might pray to the gods in the hope that one of them might show me a way to go. 335 And when, as I went through the island, I had got away from my comrades, I washed my hands in a place where there was shelter from the wind, and prayed to all the gods that hold Olympus; but they shed sweet sleep upon my eyelids. And meanwhile Eurylochus began to give evil counsel to my comrades: 340 “‘Hear my words, comrades, for all your evil plight. All forms of death are hateful to wretched mortals, but to die of hunger, and so meet one's doom, is the most pitiful. No, come, let us drive off the best of the cattle of Helios and offer sacrifice to the immortals who hold broad heaven. 345 And if we ever reach Ithaca, our native land, we will at once build a rich temple to Helios Hyperion and put in it many fine offerings. And if perhaps he is angry at all because of his straight-horned cattle, and is minded to destroy our ship, and the other gods consent, 350 I would rather lose my life once for all with a gulp at the wave, than pine slowly away in a desert isle.’ “So spoke Eurylochus, and the rest of my comrades gave assent. At once they drove off the best of the cattle of Helios from near at hand, for not far from the dark-prowed ship 355 were grazing the fair, sleek cattle, broad of brow. Around these, then, they stood and made prayer to the gods, plucking the tender leaves from off a high-crested oak; for they had no white barley on board the well-benched ship. Now when they had prayed and had cut the throats of the cattle and flayed them, 360 they cut out the thigh-pieces and covered them with a double layer of fat and laid raw flesh upon them. They had no wine to pour over the blazing sacrifice, but they made libations with water, and roasted all the entrails over the fire. Now when the thighs were wholly burned and they had tasted the inner parts, 365 they cut up the rest and spitted it. Then it was that sweet sleep fled from my eyelids, and I went my way to the swift ship and the shore of the sea. But when, as I went, I drew near to the curved ship, then indeed the hot savour of the fat was wafted about me, 370 and I groaned and cried aloud to the immortal gods: “‘Father Zeus and you other blessed gods that are for ever, truly it was for my ruin that you lulled me in pitiless sleep, while my comrades remaining behind have contrived a monstrous deed.’ “Swiftly then to Helios Hyperion came 375 Lampetie of the long robes, bearing tidings that we had slain his cattle; and at once he spoke among the immortals, angry at heart: “‘Father Zeus and you other blessed gods that are for ever, take vengeance now on the comrades of Odysseus, son of Laertes, who have insolently slain my cattle, in which I 380 ever took delight, when I went toward the starry heaven and when I turned back again to earth from heaven. If they do not pay me fit atonement for the cattle I will go down to Hades and shine among the dead.’ “Then Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, answered him and said: 385 ‘Helios, shine on indeed among the immortals and among mortal men upon the earth, the giver of grain. As for these men I will soon strike their swift ship with my bright thunder-bolt, and shatter it to pieces in the midst of the wine-dark sea.’ “This I heard from fair-haired Calypso, 390 and she said that she herself had heard it from the messenger Hermes. “But when I had come down to the ship and to the sea I rebuked my men, coming up to each in turn, but we could find no remedy—the cattle were already dead. For my men, then, the gods at once showed portents. 395 The hides crawled, the flesh, both roast and raw, bellowed upon the spits, and there was a lowing as of cattle. “For six days, then, my trusty comrades feasted on the best of the cattle of Helios which they had driven off. But when Zeus, the son of Cronos, brought upon us the seventh day, 400 then the wind ceased to blow tempestuously, and we at once went on board, and put out into the broad sea when we had set up the mast and hoisted the white sail. “But when we had left that island and no other land appeared, but only sky and sea, 405 then indeed the son of Cronos set a black cloud above the hollow ship, and the sea grew dark beneath it. She ran on for no long time, for at once came the shrieking West Wind, blowing with a furious tempest, and the blast of the wind snapped both the fore-stays of the mast, 410 so that the mast fell backward and all its tackling was strewn in the bilge. On the stern of the ship the mast struck the head of the pilot and crushed all the bones of his skull together, and like a diver he fell from the deck and his proud spirit left his bones. 415 With that Zeus thundered and hurled his bolt upon the ship, and she quivered from stem to stern, struck by the bolt of Zeus, and was filled with sulphurous smoke, and my comrades fell from out of the ship. Like sea-crows they were borne on the waves about the black ship, and the god took from them their returning. 420 But I kept pacing up and down the ship till the surge tore the sides from the keel, and the wave bore her on dismantled and snapped the mast off at the keel; but over the mast had been flung the back-stay fashioned of ox-hide; with this I lashed the two together, both keel and mast, 425 and sitting on these was borne by the dire winds. “Then indeed the West Wind ceased to blow tempestuously, and swiftly the South Wind came, bringing sorrow to my heart, that I might traverse again the way to baneful Charybdis. All night long was I borne, and at the rising of the sun 430 I came to the cliff of Scylla and to dread Charybdis. She indeed sucked down the salt water of the sea, but I, springing up to the tall fig-tree, laid hold of it, and clung to it like a bat. Yet I could in no way plant my feet firmly or climb upon the tree, 435 for its roots spread far below and its branches hung out of reach above, long and great, and overshadowed Charybdis. There I clung steadfastly until she should vomit out mast and keel again, and to my joy they came at length. At the hour when a man rises from the assembly for his supper, 440 one that decides the many quarrels of young men that seek judgment, even at that hour those spars appeared from out of Charybdis. And I let go hands and feet from above and plunged down into the waters out beyond the long spars, and sitting on these I rowed onward with my hands. 445 But as for Scylla, the father of gods and men did not allow her again to catch sight of me, else I should never have escaped utter destruction. “From there for nine days was I borne, and on the tenth night the gods brought me to Ogygia, where the fair-tressed Calypso dwells, dread goddess of human speech, 450 who gave me welcome and care. But why should I tell you this tale? For it was but yesterday that I told it in your hall to yourself and to your noble wife. It is a tiresome thing, it seems to me, to tell again a plain-told tale.”
13So he spoke, and they were all hushed in silence, and were spellbound throughout the shadowy halls. And Alcinous again answered him, and said: “Odysseus, since you have come to my 5 high-roofed house with floor of brass, you shall not, I think, be driven back, and return with baffled purpose, even though you have suffered much. And to each man of you that in my halls are always accustomed to drink the flaming wine of the elders, and to listen to the minstrel, I speak, and give this charge. 10 Clothing for the stranger lies already stored in the polished chest, with gold intricately wrought and all the other gifts which the counsellors of the Phaeacians brought here. But, come now, let us give him a great tripod and a cauldron, each man of us, and we in turn will gather the cost from among the people, 15 and repay ourselves. It would be hard for one man to give freely, without repayment.” So spoke Alcinous, and his word was pleasing to them. They then went, each man to his house, to take their rest; but as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, they hastened to the ship and brought the bronze, that gives strength to men. 20 And the strong and mighty Alcinous went himself throughout the ship, and carefully stowed the gifts beneath the benches, that they might not hinder any of the crew at their rowing, when they busily plied the oars. Then they went to the house of Alcinous, and prepared a feast. And for them the strong and mighty Alcinous sacrificed a bull 25 to Zeus, son of Cronos, god of the dark clouds, who is lord of all. Then, when they had burned the thigh-pieces, they feasted a glorious feast, and made merry, and among them the divine minstrel Demodocus, held in honor by the people, sang to the lyre. But Odysseus kept turning his head toward the blazing sun, 30 eager to see it set, for truly he was eager to return home. And as a man longs for supper, for whom all day long a yoke of wine-dark oxen has drawn the jointed plough through fallow land, and gladly for him does the light of the sun sink, that he may busy himself with his supper, and his knees grow weary as he goes; 35 even so gladly for Odysseus did the light of the sun sink. At once then he spoke among the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar, and to Alcinous above all he declared his word, and said: “Lord Alcinous, renowned above all men, pour libations now, and send me on my way in peace; and yourselves too—Farewell! 40 For now all that my heart desired has been brought to pass: a convoy, and gifts of friendship. May the gods of heaven bless them to me, and on my return may I find in my home my peerless wife with those I love unharmed; and may you again, remaining here, make glad 45 your wedded wives and children; and may the gods grant you prosperity of every sort, and may no evil come upon your people.” So he spoke, and they all praised his words, and urged that the stranger be sent on his way, since he had spoken fittingly. Then the mighty Alcinous spoke to the herald, saying: 50 “Pontonous, mix the bowl, and serve out wine to all in the hall, in order that, when we have made prayer to father Zeus, we may send forth the stranger to his own native land.” So he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine and served out to all, coming up to each in turn; 55 and they poured libations to the blessed gods, who hold broad heaven, from where they sat. But goodly Odysseus arose, and placed in the hand of Arete the two-handled cup, and spoke, and addressed her with winged words: “Farewell, O queen, throughout all the years, till old age 60 and death come, which are the lot of mortals. As for me, I go my way, but in this house may you have joy of your children and your people and Alcinous the king.” So the goodly Odysseus spoke and passed over the threshold. And with him the mighty Alcinous sent forth a herald 65 to lead him to the swift ship and the shore of the sea. And Arete sent with him slave women, one bearing a newly washed cloak and a tunic, and another again she ordered to follow to carry the strong chest, and yet another bore bread and red wine. 70 But when they had come down to the ship and to the sea, at once the lordly youths that were his escort took these things, and stowed them in the hollow ship, all the food and drink. Then for Odysseus they spread a rug and a linen sheet on the deck of the hollow ship 75 at the stern, that he might sleep soundly; and he too went aboard, and lay down in silence. Then they sat down on the benches, each in order, and loosed the hawser from the pierced stone. And as soon as they leaned back, and tossed the brine with their oarblades, sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids, 80 an unwaking sleep, most sweet, and most like death. And as on a plain four yoked stallions spring forward all together beneath the strokes of the lash, and leaping on high swiftly accomplish their way, even so the stern of that ship leapt on high, and in her wake 85 the dark wave of the loud-sounding sea foamed mightily, and she sped safely and surely on her way; not even the circling hawk, the swiftest of winged things, could have kept pace with her. Thus she sped on swiftly and cleaved the waves of the sea, bearing a man the peer of the gods in counsel, 90 one who in time past had suffered many griefs at heart in passing through wars of men and the grievous waves; but now he slept in peace, forgetful of all that he had suffered. Now when that brightest of stars rose which always comes to herald the light of early Dawn, 95 even then the seafaring ship drew near to the island. There is in the land of Ithaca a certain harbor of Phorcys, the old man of the sea, and at its mouth two projecting headlands sheer to seaward, but sloping down on the side toward the harbor. These keep back the great waves raised by heavy winds 100 outside, but inside the benched ships lie unmoored when they have reached the point of anchorage. At the head of the harbor is a long-leafed olive tree, and near it a pleasant, shadowy cave sacred to the nymphs that are called Naiads. 105 In it are mixing bowls and jars of stone, and there too the bees store honey. And in the cave are long looms of stone, at which the nymphs weave webs of purple dye, a wonder to behold; and in it are also ever-flowing springs. Two doors there are to the cave, 110 one toward the North Wind, by which men go down, but that toward the South Wind is sacred, nor do men enter by it; it is the way of the immortals. Here they rowed in, knowing the place from long ago; and the ship ran fully half her length on the shore 115 in her swift course, at such pace was she driven by the arms of the rowers. Then they stepped forth from the benched ship upon the land, and first they lifted Odysseus out of the hollow ship, with the linen sheet and bright rug as they were, and laid him down on the sand, still overpowered by sleep. 120 And they lifted out the goods which the lordly Phaeacians had given him, as he set out for home, through the favour of great-hearted Athena. These they set all together by the trunk of the olive tree, out of the path, lest perhaps some wayfarer, before Odysseus awoke, might come upon them and plunder them. 125 Then they themselves returned home again. But the Shaker of the Earth did not forget the threats with which at the first he had threatened godlike Odysseus, and he thus enquired of the purpose of Zeus: “Father Zeus, no longer shall I, even I, be held in honor among the immortal gods, seeing that mortals do not honor me a whit— 130 even the Phaeacians, who, you know, are of my own lineage. For I but now declared that Odysseus should suffer many woes before he reached his home, though I did not wholly rob him of his return when once you had promised it and confirmed it with your nod; yet in his sleep these men have borne him in a swift ship over the sea 135 and set him down in Ithaca, and have given him gifts past telling, stores of bronze and gold and woven clothing, more than Odysseus would ever have won for himself from Troy, if he had returned unharmed with his due share of the spoil.” Then Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, answered him, and said: 140 “Ah me, shaker of the earth, wide of sway, what a thing you have said! The gods do you no dishonor; hard indeed would it be to assail with dishonor our eldest and best. But as for men, if any one, yielding to his might and strength, fails to do you honor in anything, you may always take vengeance, even afterward. 145 Do as you will, and as is your good pleasure.” Then Poseidon, the earth-shaker, answered him: “At once would I have done as you say, god of the dark clouds, but I always dread and avoid your wrath. But now I am minded to strike the fair ship of the Phaeacians, 150 as she comes back from his convoy on the misty deep, that hereafter they may desist and cease from giving convoy to men, and to fling a great mountain about their city.” Then Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, answered him and said: “Lazy one, hear what seems best in my sight. 155 When all the people are looking forth from the city upon her as she speeds on her way, then turn her to stone close by the land—a stone in the shape of a swift ship, that all men may marvel; and fling a great mountain about their city.” Now when Poseidon, the earth-shaker, heard this 160 he went his way to Scheria, where the Phaeacians dwell, and there he waited. And she drew close to shore, the seafaring ship, speeding swiftly on her way. Then near her came the Earth-shaker and turned her to stone, and rooted her fast beneath by a blow of the flat of his hand, and then he was gone. 165 But they spoke winged words to one another, the Phaeacians of the long oars, men famed for their ships. And thus would one speak, with a glance at his neighbor: “Ah me, who has now bound our swift ship on the sea as she sped homeward? Why, she was in plain sight.” 170 So would one of them speak, but they did not know how these things were to be. Then Alcinous addressed their company and said: “See now, truly the oracles of my father, uttered long ago, have come upon me. He used to say that Poseidon was angry with us because we give safe convoy to all men. 175 He said that some day, as a beautiful ship of the Phaeacians was returning from a convoy over the misty deep, Poseidon would strike her, and would fling a great mountain about our town. So that old man spoke, and see, now all this is being brought to pass. But now come, as I say let us all obey. 180 Cease to give convoy to mortals, when anyone comes to our city, and let us sacrifice to Poseidon twelve choice bulls, if perhaps he may take pity, and not fling a lofty mountain about our town.” So he spoke, and they were seized with fear and made ready the bulls. 185 Thus they were praying to the lord Poseidon, the leaders and counsellors of the land of the Phaeacians, as they stood about the altar, but Odysseus awoke out of his sleep in his native land. Yet he did not know it after his long absence, for about him the goddess had shed a mist, 190 Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, that she might render him unknown, and tell him all things, so that his wife might not know him, nor his townsfolk, nor his friends, until the suitors had paid the full price of all their transgressions. Therefore all things seemed strange to their lord, 195 the long paths, the bays offering safe anchorage, the sheer cliffs, and the luxuriant trees. So he sprang up and stood and looked upon his native land, and then he groaned and struck both of his thighs with the flat of his hands, and mournfully spoke, and said: 200 “Woe is me, to the land of what mortals have I now come? Are they cruel, and wild, and unjust, or do they love strangers and fear the gods in their thoughts? Where shall I carry all this wealth, or where shall I myself go wandering on? If only I had remained there among the Phaeacians, 205 and had then come to some other of the mighty kings, who would have entertained me and sent me on my homeward way. But now I do not know where to put this wealth; yet here I will not leave it, lest perhaps it become the spoil of others to my cost. Curse them; not wholly wise, it seems, nor just 210 were the leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians who have brought me to a strange land. Truly they said that they would bring me to clear-seen Ithaca, but they have not made good their word. May Zeus, the suppliant's god, repay them, who watches over all men, and punishes him that sins. 215 But come, I will count the goods, and go over them, lest to my cost these men have carried off anything with them in the hollow ship.” So he spoke, and set himself to count the beautiful tripods, and the cauldrons, and the gold, and the fair woven clothing, and of these he missed nothing. Then, mournfully longing for his native land, 220 he paced by the shore of the loud-sounding sea, uttering many a moan. And Athena drew near him in the form of a young man, a herdsman of sheep, one most delicate, as are the sons of princes. In a double fold about her shoulders she wore a well-wrought cloak, 225 and beneath her shining feet she had sandals, and in her hands a spear. Then Odysseus was glad at sight of her, and came to meet her, and he spoke, and addressed her with winged words: “Friend, since you are the first to whom I have come in this land, greetings to you, and may you meet me with no evil mind. 230 No, save this treasure, and save me; for to you I pray, as to a god, and have come to your dear knees. And tell me this also truly, that I may know full well. What land, what people is this? What men dwell here? Is it some clear-seen island, or a shore 235 of the deep-soiled mainland that lies resting on the sea?” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: “A fool you are, stranger, or have come from far, if indeed you ask about this land. Surely it is in no way so nameless, but very many know it, 240 both all those who dwell toward the dawn and the sun, and all those that are behind toward the murky darkness. It is a rugged isle, not fit for driving horses, yet it is not utterly poor, though it is only narrow. In it grows grain beyond measure, and the wine-grape as well, 245 and the rain never fails it, nor the rich dew. It is a good land for pasturing goats and cattle; there are trees of every sort, and in it also pools for watering that do not fail the year through. Therefore, stranger, the name of Ithaca has reached even to the land of Troy which, they say, is far from this land of Achaea.” 250 So she spoke, and the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus was glad, and rejoiced in his land, the land of his fathers, as he heard the word of Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, who bears the aegis; and he spoke, and addressed her with winged words; yet he did not speak the truth, but checked the word before it was uttered, 255 always revolving in his breast thoughts of great cunning: “I heard of Ithaca, even in broad Crete, far over the sea; and now have I myself come here with these my goods. And I left as much more with my children, when I fled the land, after I had slain the dear son of Idomeneus, 260 Orsilochus, swift of foot, who in broad Crete surpassed in fleetness all men that live by toil. Now he would have robbed me of all that booty of Troy, for which I had borne grief of heart, passing through wars of men and the grievous waves, 265 because I would not show favour to his father, and serve as his squire in the land of the Trojans, but commanded other men of my own. So I struck him with my bronze-tipped spear as he came home from the field, lying in wait for him with one of my men by the roadside. A dark night covered the heavens, and no 270 man was aware of us, but unseen I took away his life. Now when I had slain him with the sharp bronze, I went at once to a ship, and made prayer to the lordly Phoenicians, giving them booty to satisfy their hearts. I asked them to take me aboard and land me at Pylos, 275 or at goodly Elis, where the Epeans hold sway. Yet truly the force of the wind thrust them away from there, sorely against their will, nor did they intend to play me false; but driven wandering from there we came here by night. With eager haste we rowed on into the harbor, nor had we any 280 thought of supper, great as was our need of it, but just as we were we went forth from the ship and lay down, one and all. Then upon me came sweet sleep in my weariness, but they took my goods out of the hollow ship and set them where I myself lay on the sands. 285 And they went on board, and departed for the well-peopled land of Sidon; but I was left here, my heart deeply troubled.” So he spoke, and the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, smiled, and stroked him with her hand, and changed herself to the form of a woman, comely and tall, and skilled in glorious handiwork. 290 And she spoke, and addressed him with winged words: “Cunning must he be and knavish, who would go beyond you in all manner of guile, yes, even if it were a god that met you. Bold man, crafty in counsel, insatiable in deceit, not even in your own land, it seems, were you to cease from guile 295 and deceitful tales, which you love from the bottom of your heart. But come, let us no longer talk of this, being both well versed in craft, since you are far the best of all men in counsel and in speech, and I among all the gods am famed for wisdom and craft. Yet you did not know 300 Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, me, who always stand by your side, and guard you in all toils. Yes, and I made you beloved by all the Phaeacians. And now I have come here to weave a plan with you, and to hide all the treasure, which the lordly Phaeacians 305 gave you by my counsel and will, when you set out for home; and to tell you all the measure of woe it is your fate to fulfil in your well-built house. But be strong, for bear it you must, and tell no man of them all nor any woman that you have come back from your wanderings, but in silence 310 endure your many griefs, and submit to the violence of men.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Hard is it, goddess, for a mortal man to know you when he meets you, however wise he may be, for you take whatever shape you will. But this I know well, that of old you were kindly toward me, 315 so long as we sons of the Achaeans were warring in the land of Troy. But after we had sacked the lofty city of Priam, and had gone away in our ships, and a god had scattered the Achaeans, never since then have I seen you, daughter of Zeus, nor noticed you coming on board my ship, that you might ward off sorrow from me. 320 No, I kept wandering on, bearing in my breast a stricken heart, till the gods delivered me from evil, even until in the rich land of the Phaeacians you cheered me with your words, and yourself led me to their city. But now I implore you by your father—for I do not think 325 that I have come to clear-seen Ithaca; no, it is some other land over which I roam, and you, I think, speak like this in mockery to beguile my mind—tell me whether in very truth I have come to my dear native land.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: 330 “Always such is the thought in your breast, and therefore it is that I cannot leave you in your sorrow, for you are soft of speech, keen of wit, and prudent. Eagerly would another man on his return from wanderings have hastened to behold in his halls his children and his wife; 335 but you are not yet minded to know or learn of anything, till you have further tested your wife, who abides as of old in her halls, and always sorrowfully for her the nights and days wane, as she weeps. But as for me, I never doubted this, but in my heart 340 knew it well, that you would come home after losing all your comrades. Yet, you must know, I was not minded to strive against Poseidon, my father's brother, who laid up wrath in his heart against you, angered that you blinded his dear son. But come, I will show you the land of Ithaca, that you may be sure. 345 This is the harbor of Phorcys, the old man of the sea, and here at the head of the harbor is the long-leafed olive tree, and near it is the pleasant, shadowy cave, sacred to the nymphs that are called Naiads. This, you must know, is the vaulted cave in which you 350 used to offer to the nymphs many hecatombs that bring fulfillment; and over there is Mount Neriton, clothed with its forests.” So spoke the goddess, and scattered the mist, and the land appeared. Glad then was the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus, rejoicing in his own land, and he kissed the earth, the giver of grain. 355 And at once he prayed to the nymphs with upstretched hands: “You Naiad Nymphs, daughters of Zeus, never did I think to behold you again, but now I greet you with loving prayers. Yes, and gifts too will I give, as before, if the daughter of Zeus, she that drives the spoil, shall graciously grant me 360 to live, and shall bring to manhood my dear son.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him again: “Take heart, and do not let these things distress your heart. But let us now at once set your goods in the innermost recess of the wondrous cave, where they may remain for you in safety, 365 and let us ourselves take thought how all may be far the best.” So saying, the goddess entered the shadowy cave and searched out its hiding-places. And Odysseus brought all the treasure there, the gold and the stubborn bronze and the finely-wrought clothing, which the Phaeacians gave him. 370 These things he carefully laid away, and Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, who bears the aegis, set a stone at the door. Then the two sat down by the trunk of the sacred olive tree, and devised death for the insolent suitors. And the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, was the first to speak, saying: 375 “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, take thought how you may lay your hands on the shameless suitors, who now for three years have been lording it in your halls, wooing your godlike wife, and offering suitors' gifts. And she, as she mournfully looks for your coming, 380 offers hopes to all, and has promises for each man, sending them messages, but her mind is set on other things.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “See now, surely I was likely to have perished in my halls by the evil fate of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, 385 had you not, goddess, duly told me all. But come, weave some plan by which I may pay them back; and stand yourself by my side, and endow me with dauntless courage, even as when we loosed the bright diadem of Troy. If you would only stand by my side, flashing-eyed one, as eager as you were then, 390 I would fight even against three hundred men, with you, mighty goddess, if with a ready heart you would give me aid.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: “Yes, truly, I will be with you, and will not forget you, when we are busied with this work; and I think many a one 395 of the suitors that devour your substance shall bespatter the vast earth with his blood and brains. But come, I will make you unknown to all mortals. I will shrivel the fair skin on your supple limbs, and destroy the flaxen hair from off your head, and clothe you in a ragged garment, 400 such that one would shudder to see a man dressed in it. And I will dim your two eyes that were before so beautiful, that you may appear mean in the sight of all the suitors, and of your wife, and of your son, whom you left in your halls. And for yourself, go first of all 405 to the swineherd who keeps your swine, and besides has a kindly heart towards you, and loves your son and constant Penelope. You will find him staying by the swine, and they are feeding by the rock of Corax and the spring Arethusa, eating acorns to their heart's content and 410 drinking the black water, things which make the rich flesh of swine grow fat. There stay, and sitting by his side question him about all things, while I go to Sparta, the land of fair women, to summon from there Telemachus, your dear son, Odysseus, who went to spacious Lacedaemon to the house of Menelaus, 415 to seek news of you, if you were still anywhere alive.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “Why then, I ask you, did you not tell him, you whose mind knows all things? Was it perhaps that he too might suffer woes, wandering over the unresting sea, and that others might devour his substance?” 420 Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: “No, truly, do not let your heart be overly troubled for him. It was I that guided him, that he might win good report by going there, and he has no toil, but sits in peace in the palace of the son of Atreus, and good cheer past telling is before him. 425 Truly young men in a black ship lie in wait for him, eager to slay him before he comes to his native land, but I think this shall not be. Before that the earth shall cover many a one of the suitors that devour your substance.” So saying, Athena touched him with her wand. 430 She withered the fair flesh on his supple limbs, and destroyed the flaxen hair from off his head, and about all his limbs she put the skin of an aged old man. And she dimmed his two eyes that were before so beautiful, and clothed him in other garments, 435 a vile ragged cloak and a tunic, tattered garments and foul, begrimed with filthy smoke. And about him she cast the great skin of a swift hind, stripped of the hair, and she gave him a staff, and a miserable bag, full of holes, slung by a twisted cord. So when the two had thus taken counsel together, they parted; and then the goddess 440 went to goodly Lacedaemon to fetch the son of Odysseus.
14But Odysseus went forth from the harbor by the rough path up over the woodland and through the heights to the place where Athena had showed him that he should find the noble swineherd, who cared for his substance above all the slaves that goodly Odysseus had gotten. 5 He found him sitting in the fore-hall of his house, where his court was built high in a place of wide outlook, a great and fine court with an open space around it. This the swineherd had himself built for the swine of his master, who was gone, without the knowledge of his mistress and the old man Laertes. 10 With huge stones he had built it, and set on it a coping of thorn. Outside he had driven stakes the whole length, this way and that, huge stakes, set close together, which he had made by splitting an oak to the black core; and within the court he had made twelve sties close by one another, as beds for the swine, and in each one 15 were penned fifty wallowing swine, females for breeding; but the boars slept outside. These were far fewer in numbers, for on them the godlike suitors feasted, and lessened them, for the swineherd always sent in the best of all the fatted hogs, 20 which numbered three hundred and sixty. By these always slept four dogs, savage as wild beasts, which the swineherd had reared, a leader of men. But he himself was fitting boots about his feet, cutting an ox-hide of good color, while the others 25 had gone, three of them, one here one there, with the droves of swine; and the fourth he had sent to the city to drive by compulsion a boar to the insolent suitors, that they might slay it and satisfy their souls with food. Suddenly then the baying hounds caught sight of Odysseus, 30 and rushed upon him with loud barking, but Odysseus sat down in his cunning, and the staff fell from his hand. Then even in his own farmstead he would have suffered cruel hurt, but the swineherd with swift steps followed after them, and hastened through the gateway, and the hide fell from his hand. 35 He called aloud to the dogs, and drove them this way and that with a shower of stones, and spoke to his master, and said: “Old man, truly the dogs nearly tore you to pieces all of a sudden, and on me you would have shed reproach. Yes, and the gods have given me other griefs and sorrow. 40 It is for a godlike master that I mourn and grieve, as I stay here, and rear fat swine for other men to eat, while he perhaps in want of food wanders over the land and city of men of strange speech, if indeed he still lives and sees the light of the sun. 45 But come with me, let us go to the hut, old man, that when you have satisfied your heart with food and wine, you too may tell where you come from, and all the woes you have endured.” So saying, the noble swineherd led him to the hut, and brought him in, and made him sit, strewing beneath thick brushwood, 50 and on it spreading the skin of a shaggy wild goat, large and hairy, on which he himself used to sleep. And Odysseus was glad that he gave him such welcome, and spoke, and addressed him: “Stranger, may Zeus and the other immortal gods grant you what you most desire, since you with a ready heart have given me welcome.” 55 To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, you made answer, and said: “No, stranger, it would not be right for me, even though one meaner than you were to come, to slight a stranger: for from Zeus are all strangers and beggars, and a gift, though small, is welcome from such as we; since this is the lot of slaves, 60 always in fear when over them as lords their masters hold sway—young masters such as ours. For truly the gods have stayed the return of him who would have loved me with all kindness, and would have given me possessions of my own, a house and a bit of land, and a wife, sought by many suitors, even such things as a kindly master gives to his servant 65 who has toiled much for him, and whose labour the god makes to prosper, even as this work of mine prospers, to which I give heed. Therefore my master would have richly rewarded me, if he had grown old here at home: but he perished—as I wish all the kindred of Helen had perished in utter ruin, since she loosened the knees of many warriors. 70 For he too went forth to win recompense for Agamemnon to Ilios, famed for its horses, that he might fight with the Trojans.” So saying, he quickly bound up his tunic with his belt, and went to the sties, where the tribes of swine were penned. Choosing two from there, he brought them in and slew them both, 75 and singed, and cut them up, and spitted them. Then, when he had roasted all, he brought and set it before Odysseus, hot upon the spits, and sprinkled over it white barley meal. Then in a bowl of ivy wood he mixed honey-sweet wine, and himself sat down opposite Odysseus, and invited him to his food, and said: 80 “Eat now, stranger, such food as slaves have to offer, meat of young pigs; the fatted hogs the suitors eat, who do not care in their hearts about the wrath of the gods, nor have any pity. Truly the blessed gods do not love reckless deeds, but they honor justice and the righteous deeds of men. 85 Even cruel foes that set foot on the land of others, and Zeus gives them booty, and they fill their ships and depart for home—even on the hearts of these falls great fear of the wrath of the gods. But these men here, you see, know something, and have heard some voice of a god 90 regarding my master's pitiful death, seeing that they will not woo righteously, nor go back to their own, but at their ease they waste our substance insolently, and there is no sparing. For every day and night that comes from Zeus they do not sacrifice one victim or two alone, 95 and they draw off wine, and waste it insolently. Truly his substance was great past telling, so much has no lord either on the dark mainland or in Ithaca itself; no, not twenty men together have wealth so great. See, I will give you the full count of it; 100 twelve herds of cattle he has on the mainland; as many flocks of sheep; as many droves of swine; as many packed herds of goats do herdsmen, both foreigners and of his own people, pasture. And here too graze roving herds of goats on the borders of the island, eleven in all, and over them trusty men keep watch. 105 And each man of these always drives up day by day one of his flock for the suitors, even that one of the fatted goats which seems to him the best. But as for me, I guard and keep these swine, and choose out with care and send them the best of the boars.” So he spoke, but Odysseus eagerly ate meat and drank wine, 110 greedily, in silence, and was sowing the seeds of evil for the suitors. But when he had dined, and satisfied his soul with food, then the swineherd filled the bowl from which he himself used to drink, and gave it to him brim full of wine, and he took it, and was glad at heart; and he spoke, and addressed him with winged words: 115 “Friend, who was it who bought you with his wealth, a man so very rich and mighty, as you say? You said that he died to win recompense for Agamemnon; tell me, in case I may perhaps know him, since he was such a man. For Zeus, I think, and the other immortal gods know 120 whether I have seen him, and could bring tidings; for I have wandered far.” Then the swineherd, a leader of men, answered him: “Old man, no wanderer that came and brought tidings of him could persuade his wife and his dear son; no, at random, when they have need of entertainment, vagabonds 125 lie, and have no wish to speak the truth. Whoever in his wanderings comes to the land of Ithaca goes to my mistress and tells a deceitful tale. And she, receiving him kindly, gives him entertainment, and questions him about all things, and the tears fall from her eyelids, while she weeps, 130 as is the way of a woman, when her husband dies far away. And you too, old man, would readily fashion a story, if someone would give you a cloak and a tunic to wear. But as for him, by now dogs and swift birds have likely torn the flesh from his bones, and his spirit has left him; 135 or in the sea fishes have eaten him, and his bones lie there on the shore, wrapped in deep sand. Thus has he perished over there, and to his friends grief is appointed for days to come, to all, but most of all to me. For never again shall I find a master so kind, however far I go, 140 not even if I come again to the house of my father and mother, where I was first born, and they reared me themselves. Yet it is not for them that I henceforth mourn so much, eager though I am to behold them with my eyes and to be in my native land; no, it is longing for Odysseus, who is gone, that seizes me. 145 His name, stranger, absent though he is, I speak with awe, for greatly did he love me and care for me at heart; but I call him my beloved lord, even though he is not here.” Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him: “Friend, since you utterly deny it, and declare 150 that he will never come again, and your heart is always unbelieving, therefore I will tell you, not at random but with an oath, that Odysseus shall return. And let me have a reward for bearing good tidings, as soon as he comes, and reaches his home; clothe me in a cloak and tunic, fine clothing. 155 But before that, however great my need, I will accept nothing; for hateful in my eyes as the gates of Hades is that man, who, yielding to stress of poverty, tells a deceitful tale. Now let Zeus be my witness, above all gods, and this hospitable board, and the hearth of noble Odysseus to which I have come, 160 that truly all these things shall be brought to pass even as I tell you. In the course of this very day Odysseus shall come here, as the old moon wanes, and the new appears. He shall return, and take vengeance on all those who here dishonor his wife and his glorious son.” 165 To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, you made answer, and said: “Old man, neither shall I, it seems, pay you this reward for bearing good tidings, nor shall Odysseus ever come to his home. No, drink in peace, and let us turn our thoughts to other things, and do not recall this to my mind; for truly the heart in my breast 170 is grieved whenever anyone makes mention of my good master. But as for your oath, we will let it be; yet I wish that Odysseus might come, even as I desire, I, and Penelope, and the old man Laertes, and godlike Telemachus. But now it is for his son that I grieve unceasingly, 175 for Telemachus, whom Odysseus fathered. When the gods had made him grow like a sapling, and I thought that he would be among men in no way worse than his dear father, glorious in form and beauty, then some one of the immortals marred the wise spirit within him, or perhaps some man, and he went 180 to sacred Pylos after tidings of his father. For him now the lordly suitors lie in wait on his homeward way, that the race of godlike Arceisius may perish out of Ithaca, and leave no name. But truly we will let him be; he may be taken, or he may escape, and the son of Cronos may stretch out his hand to guard him. 185 But come, old man, tell me of your own sorrows, and tell me this truly, that I may know full well. Who are you among men, and from where? Where is your city, and where are your parents? On what kind of ship did you come, and how did sailors bring you to Ithaca? Who did they declare themselves to be? 190 For in no way, I think, did you come here on foot.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Then I will frankly tell you all. Would that now we two might have food and sweet wine for a while, 195 to feast on in quiet here in your hut, and that others might go about their work; easily then might I tell on for a full year, and yet in no way finish the tale of the woes of my spirit—all the toils that I have endured by the will of the gods. “From broad Crete I declare that I come by lineage, 200 the son of a wealthy man. And many other sons too were born and bred in his halls, true sons of a lawful wife; but the mother that bore me was bought, a concubine. Yet Castor, son of Hylax, from whom I declare that I am sprung, honored me even as his true-born sons. 205 He was at that time honored as a god among the Cretans in the land for his good estate, and his wealth, and his glorious sons. But the fates of death bore him away to the house of Hades, and his proud sons divided his substance among them, and cast lots for it. 210 To me they gave a very small portion, and allotted a dwelling. But I took a wife from a house that had wide possessions, winning her by my valor; for I was no weakling, nor a coward in fight. Now all that strength is gone; yet even so, in seeing the stubble, I think 215 you may judge what the grain was; for truly troubles in full measure surround me. But then Ares and Athena gave me courage, and strength that breaks the ranks of men; and whenever I picked the best warriors for an ambush, sowing the seeds of evil for the foe, never did my proud spirit forebode death, 220 but always far the first I leapt forth, and slew with my spear whoever of the foe gave way in flight before me. Such a man was I in war, but labour in the field was never to my liking, nor the care of a household, which rears fine children, but oared ships were always dear to me, 225 and wars, and polished spears, and arrows,—grievous things, at which others usually shudder. But those things, I think, were dear to me, which a god put in my heart; for different men take joy in different works. For before the sons of the Achaeans set foot on the land of Troy, 230 I had nine times led warriors and swift-faring ships against foreign folk, and great spoil had always fallen to my hands. Of this I would choose what pleased my mind, and much I afterwards obtained by lot. Thus my house immediately grew rich, and after that I became one feared and honored among the Cretans. 235 “But when Zeus, whose voice is borne afar, devised that hateful journey which loosened the knees of many a warrior, then they ordered me and glorious Idomeneus to lead the ships to Ilios, nor was there any way to refuse, for the voice of the people pressed hard upon us. 240 There for nine years we sons of the Achaeans warred, and in the tenth we sacked the city of Priam, and set out for home in our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans. But for me, wretched man that I was, Zeus, the counsellor, devised evil. For a month only I remained, taking joy in my children, 245 my wedded wife, and my wealth; and then to Egypt my spirit urged me to voyage with my godlike comrades, when I had fitted out my ships with care. Nine ships I fitted out, and the host gathered speedily. Then for six days my trusty comrades 250 feasted, and I gave them many victims, that they might sacrifice to the gods, and prepare a feast for themselves; and on the seventh we embarked and set sail from broad Crete, with the North Wind blowing fresh and fair, and ran on easily as if down stream. No 255 harm came to any of my ships, but free from injury and from disease we sat, and the wind and the helmsman guided the ships. “On the fifth day we came to fair-flowing Aegyptus, and in the river Aegyptus I moored my curved ships. Then I ordered my trusty comrades 260 to remain there by the ships, and to guard the ships, and I sent out scouts to go to places of outlook. But my comrades, yielding to wantonness, and led on by their own might, immediately set about wasting the fair fields of the men of Egypt; and they carried off the women and little children, 265 and slew the men; and the cry came quickly to the city. Then, hearing the shouting, the people came forth at break of day, and the whole plain was filled with foot soldiers, and chariots and the flashing of bronze. But Zeus who hurls the thunderbolt cast an evil panic upon my comrades, and none had the courage 270 to hold his ground and face the foe; for evil surrounded us on every side. So then they slew many of us with the sharp bronze, and others they led up to their city alive, to work for them by force. But in my heart Zeus himself put this thought—I wish that I had died instead and met my fate 275 there in Egypt, for sorrow was still to give me welcome. Immediately I took off from my head my well-wrought helmet, and the shield from my shoulders, and let the spear fall from my hand, and went toward the chariot horses of the king. I clasped, and kissed his knees, and he delivered me, and took pity on me, 280 and, setting me in his chariot, took me weeping to his home. Truly very many rushed upon me with their ashen spears, eager to slay me, for they were exceedingly angry. But he warded them off, and had regard for the wrath of Zeus, the stranger's god, who above all others feels indignation at evil deeds. 285 “There then I stayed seven years, and much wealth did I gather among the Egyptians, for all men gave me gifts. But when the eighth circling year had come, then there came a man of Phoenicia, well versed in guile, a greedy rogue, who had already done much evil among men. 290 He prevailed upon me by his cunning, and took me with him, until we reached Phoenicia, where his house and his possessions lay. There I remained with him for a full year. But when at length the months and the days were being brought to fulfillment, as the year rolled round and the seasons came on, 295 he set me on a seafaring ship bound for Libya, having given lying counsel to the end that I should convey a cargo with him, but in truth that, when there, he might sell me and get a vast price. So I went with him on board the ship, suspecting his guile, yet under compulsion. And she ran before the North Wind, blowing fresh and fair, 300 on a mid-sea course to the windward of Crete, and Zeus devised destruction for the men. But when we had left Crete, and no other land appeared, but only sky and sea, 305 then truly the son of Cronos set a black cloud above the hollow ship, and the sea grew dark beneath it. At that Zeus thundered, and hurled his bolt upon the ship, and she quivered from stem to stern, struck by the bolt of Zeus, and was filled with sulphurous smoke, and all the crew fell out of the ship. Like sea-crows they were borne on the waves about the black ship, and the god took from them their return. 310 But as for me, Zeus himself, when my heart was beset with woe, put into my hands the tossing mast of the dark-prowed ship, that I might again escape destruction. Around this I clung, and was borne by the dreadful winds. For nine days I was borne, but on the tenth black night 315 the great rolling wave brought me to the land of the Thesprotians. There the king of the Thesprotians, lord Pheidon, took me in, and asked no ransom, for his dear son came upon me, overcome as I was with cold and weariness, and raised me by the hand, and led me until he came to his father's palace; 320 and he clothed me in a cloak and tunic, as clothing. “There I learned of Odysseus, for the king said that he had entertained him, and given him welcome on his way to his native land. And he showed me all the treasure that Odysseus had gathered, bronze, and gold, and iron, worked with toil; 325 truly to the tenth generation it would feed his children after him, so great was the wealth that lay stored for him in the halls of the king. But Odysseus, he said, had gone to Dodona, to hear the will of Zeus from the high-crested oak of the god, how he might return to the rich land of Ithaca 330 after so long an absence, whether openly or in secret. And moreover he swore in my own presence, as he poured libations in his house, that the ship was launched, and the men ready, who were to convey him to his dear native land. But me he sent forth first, for a ship 335 of the Thesprotians happened to be setting out for Dulichium, rich in wheat. There he told them to convey me with kindly care, to king Acastus. But an evil counsel regarding me found favour in their hearts, that I might even yet be brought into utter misery. When the seafaring ship had sailed far from the land, 340 they soon sought to bring about for me the day of slavery. They stripped me of my garments, my cloak and tunic, and clothed me in other clothing, a vile ragged cloak and tunic, the tattered garments which you see before your eyes; and at evening they reached the tilled fields of clear-seen Ithaca. 345 Then with a twisted rope they bound me fast in the benched ship, and themselves went ashore, and made haste to take their supper by the shore of the sea. But as for me, the gods themselves undid my bonds very easily, and, wrapping the tattered cloak about my head, 350 I slid down the smooth loading plank, and brought my breast to the sea, and then struck out with both hands, and swam, and very soon was out of the water, and away from them. Then I went up to a place where there was a thicket of leafy wood, and lay there crouching. 355 And they went here and there with loud cries; but as there seemed to be no profit in going further in their search, they went back again on board their hollow ship. And the gods themselves hid me easily, and led me, and brought me to the farmstead of a wise man; for perhaps it is still my lot to live.” 360 To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, you made answer, and said: “Ah, wretched stranger, truly you have stirred my heart deeply in telling all the tale of your sufferings and your wanderings. But in this, I think, you have not spoken rightly, nor will you persuade me with your tale about Odysseus. Why should you, who are in such a plight, 365 lie to no purpose? No, of myself I know well regarding the return of my master, that he was utterly hated by all the gods, in that they did not slay him among the Trojans, or in the arms of his friends, when he had wound up the skein of war. Then the whole host of the Achaeans would have made him a tomb, 370 and for his son too he would have won great glory in days to come. But as it is the spirits of the storm have swept him away, and left no tidings. I, for my part, live apart with the swine, nor do I go to the city, unless perhaps wise Penelope bids me go there, when tidings come to her from anywhere. 375 Then men sit around whoever comes, and question him closely, both those that grieve for their lord, who has long been gone, and those who rejoice, as they devour his substance without atonement. But I do not care to ask or enquire, since the time when an Aetolian beguiled me with his story, 380 one that had killed a man, and after wandering over the wide earth came to my house, and I gave him kindly welcome. He said that he had seen Odysseus among the Cretans at the house of Idomeneus, mending his ships which storms had shattered. And he said that he would come either by summer or by harvest-time, 385 bringing much treasure along with his godlike comrades. You too, old man of many sorrows, since a god has brought you to me, do not seek to win my favour by lies, nor in any way to cajole me. It is not for this that I shall show you respect or kindness, but from fear of Zeus, the stranger's god, and from pity for yourself.” 390 Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Truly you have in your bosom a heart that is slow to believe, seeing that in this way, even with an oath, I do not win you over, nor persuade you. But come now, let us make a covenant, and the gods who hold Olympus shall be witnesses for us both in time to come. 395 If your master returns to this house, clothe me in a cloak and tunic, as clothing, and send me on my way to Dulichium, where I desire to be. But if your master does not come as I say, set the slaves upon me, and fling me down from a great cliff, 400 that another beggar may beware of deceiving.” And the noble swineherd answered him, and said: “Yes, stranger, so should I indeed win fair fame and prosperity among men both now and hereafter, if I, who brought you to my hut and gave you entertainment, 405 should then slay you, and take away your dear life. With a ready heart after that should I pray to Zeus, son of Cronos. But it is now time for supper, and may my comrades soon be here, that we may make ready a savoury supper in the hut.” Thus they spoke to one another, 410 and the swine and the swineherds drew near. The sows they shut up to sleep in their usual sties, and a wondrous noise arose from them, as they were penned. Then the noble swineherd called to his comrades, saying: “Bring forth the best of the boars, that I may slaughter him for the stranger 415 who comes from afar, and we too shall have some profit from it, who have long borne toil and suffering for the sake of the white-tusked swine, while others devour our labour without atonement.” So saying, he split wood with the pitiless bronze, and the others brought in a fatted boar five years old, 420 and set him by the hearth. Nor did the swineherd forget the immortals, for he had an understanding heart, but as a first offering he cast into the fire bristles from the head of the white-tusked boar, and made prayer to all the gods that wise Odysseus might return to his own house. 425 Then he raised himself up, and struck the boar with a billet of oak, which he had left when splitting the wood, and the boar's life left him. And the others cut the boar's throat, and singed him, and quickly cut him up, and the swineherd took as first offerings bits of raw flesh from all the limbs, and laid them in the rich fat. These he cast into the fire, when he had sprinkled them with barley meal, 430 but the rest they cut up and spitted, and roasted it carefully, and drew it all off the spits, and cast it in a heap on platters. Then the swineherd stood up to carve, for well did his heart know what was fair, and he cut up the meat and divided it into seven portions. 435 One with a prayer he set aside for the nymphs and for Hermes, son of Maia, and the rest he distributed to each. And Odysseus he honored with the long chine of the white-tusked boar, and made glad the heart of his master; and Odysseus of many wiles spoke to him, and said: 440 “Eumaeus, may you be as dear to father Zeus as you are to me, since you honour me with a good portion, although I am in such a plight.” To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, you made answer, and said: “Eat, unhappy stranger, and have joy of such fare as is here. It is the god that will give one thing and withhold another, 445 even as seems good to his heart; for he can do all things.” He spoke, and sacrificed the first pieces to the gods that are for ever, and, when he had made libations of the flaming wine, he placed the cup in the hands of Odysseus, the sacker of cities, and took his seat by his own portion. And bread was served to them by Mesaulius, whom the swineherd 450 had acquired by himself alone, while his master was gone, without the knowledge of his mistress or the old Laertes, buying him from the Taphians with his own goods. So they put forth their hands to the good food lying ready before them. But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, 455 Mesaulius took away the food, and they were eager to go to their rest, sated with bread and meat. Now the night came on, foul and without a moon, and Zeus rained the whole night through, and the West Wind, always the rainy wind, blew strong. Then Odysseus spoke among them, making trial of the swineherd, 460 to see whether he would strip off his own cloak and give it to him, or tell some other of his comrades to do so, since he cared for him so greatly: “Hear me now, Eumaeus and all the rest of you, his men, with a wish in my heart I will tell a tale; for the wine bids me, bewildering wine, which sets one, even though he is very wise, to singing 465 and laughing softly, and makes him stand up and dance, yes, and brings forth a word which would be better unspoken. Still, since I have once spoken out, I will hide nothing. Would that I were young and my strength firm as when we made ready our ambush, and led it beneath the walls of Troy. 470 The leaders were Odysseus and Menelaus, son of Atreus, and with them I was third in command; for so they had ordered it themselves. Now when we had come to the city and the steep wall, round about the town in the thick brushwood among the reeds and swamp-land 475 we lay, crouching beneath our arms, and night came on, foul, when the North Wind had fallen, and frosty, and snow came down on us from above, covering us like frost, bitter cold, and ice formed upon our shields. Now all the rest had cloaks and tunics, and slept in peace, with their shields covering their shoulders, 480 but I, when I set out, had left my cloak behind with my comrades in my folly, for I did not think that even so I should be cold, and had come with my shield alone and my bright kilt. But when it was the third watch of the night, and the stars had turned their course, then I spoke to Odysseus, who was near me, 485 nudging him with my elbow; and he immediately listened: “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, see now, no longer shall I be among the living. No, the cold is killing me, for I have no cloak. Some god beguiled me to wear my tunic only, and now there is no more escape.’ 490 “So I spoke, and he then devised this plan in his heart, such a man was he both to plan and to fight; and speaking in a low voice he said to me: ‘Be silent now, lest another of the Achaeans hear you.’ “With this he raised his head upon his elbow, and spoke, saying: 495 ‘Hear me, friends; a dream from the gods came to me in my sleep. See, we have come very far from the ships, and I wish that there were someone to bear word to Agamemnon, son of Atreus, shepherd of the host, in the hope that he might bid more men to come from the ships.’ “So he spoke, and Thoas, son of Andraemon, sprang up 500 quickly, and flung his purple cloak from him, and set out to run to the ships. Then in his garment I gladly lay, and golden-throned Dawn appeared. Would that I were young as then, and my strength as firm; then one of the swineherds in the farmstead would give me a cloak 505 both from kindness and from respect for a brave warrior. But as it is they scorn me, since I have foul clothing about me.” To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, you made answer, and said: “Old man, the tale you have told is a good one, nor have you thus far spoken anything amiss or unprofitably. 510 So you will lack neither clothing nor anything else that a hard-pressed suppliant should receive, when he meets one—for this night at least; but in the morning you will shake about you those rags of yours. For not many cloaks are here or changes of tunics to put on, but each man has one alone. 515 But when the dear son of Odysseus comes, he will himself give you a cloak and a tunic as clothing, and will send you wherever your heart and spirit bid you go.” So saying, he sprang up and placed a bed for Odysseus near the fire, and cast upon it skins of sheep and goats. 520 There Odysseus lay down, and the swineherd threw over him a great thick cloak, which he kept at hand for a change of clothing whenever a terrible storm should arise. So there Odysseus slept, and beside him slept the young men. But the swineherd 525 did not like a bed in that place, that he should lie down away from the boars; so he made ready to go outside. And Odysseus was glad that he took such care of his master's substance while he was far away. First Eumaeus flung his sharp sword over his strong shoulders, and then put about him a cloak, very thick, to keep off the wind; 530 and he picked up the fleece of a large, well-fatted goat, took a sharp javelin to ward off dogs and men, and went forth to lie down to sleep where the white-tusked boars slept beneath a hollow rock, in a place sheltered from the North Wind.
15But Pallas Athena went to spacious Lacedaemon to remind the glorious son of great-hearted Odysseus of his return, and to hasten his coming. She found Telemachus and the noble son of Nestor 5 lying in the fore-hall of the palace of glorious Menelaus. Now Nestor's son was overcome with soft sleep, but sweet sleep did not hold Telemachus, but all through the immortal night anxious thoughts for his father kept him wakeful. And flashing-eyed Athena stood near him, and said: 10 “Telemachus, you do not do well to wander longer far from your home, leaving behind you your wealth and men in your house so insolent, lest they divide and devour all your possessions, and you will have gone on a fruitless journey. No, rouse with all speed Menelaus, good at the war-cry, 15 to send you on your way, so that you may find your noble mother still in her home. For now her father and her brothers bid her wed Eurymachus, for he surpasses all the suitors in his presents, and has increased his gifts of wooing. Beware lest she carry forth from your halls some treasure against your will. 20 For you know what sort of a spirit there is in a woman's breast; she is eager to increase the house of the man who weds her, but of her former children and of the lord of her youth she takes no thought, when once he is dead, and asks no longer concerning them. No, go, and yourself put all your possessions in the charge of whichever one 25 of the handmaids seems to you the best, until the gods show you a noble bride. And another thing I will tell you, and lay it to heart. The best men of the suitors lie in wait for you of set purpose in the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos, 30 eager to slay you before you come to your native land. But I think this shall not be; before that the earth shall cover many a one of the suitors who devour your substance. But keep your well-built ship far from the islands, and sail by night as well as by day, and that 35 one of the immortals, who keeps and guards you, will send a fair breeze in your wake. But when you have reached the nearest shore of Ithaca, send your ship and all your comrades on to the city, but yourself go first of all to the swineherd who keeps your swine, and who also has a kindly heart toward you. 40 There spend the night, and bid him go to the city to bear word to wise Penelope that she has you safe, and you have come from Pylos.” So saying, she departed to high Olympus. But Telemachus woke the son of Nestor out of sweet sleep, 45 rousing him with a touch of his heel, and spoke to him, saying: “Wake up, Peisistratus, son of Nestor; bring up your fiery-hoofed horses, and yoke them beneath the chariot, so that we may speed on our way.” Then Peisistratus, son of Nestor, answered, and said: “Telemachus, in no way may we 50 drive through the dark night, however eager we are for our journey; and soon it will be dawn. Wait then, until the warrior son of Atreus, Menelaus, famed for his spear, brings gifts and sets them on the chariot, and sends us on our way with kindly words of farewell. For a guest remembers all his days 55 the host who shows him kindness.” So he spoke, and soon came golden-throned Dawn. Up to them then came Menelaus, good at the war-cry, rising from his couch from beside fair-tressed Helen. And when the prince, the dear son of Odysseus, saw him, 60 he made haste to put on his bright tunic, and to fling over his mighty shoulders a great cloak, and went forth. Then Telemachus, the dear son of divine Odysseus, came up to Menelaus, and addressed him, saying: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, fostered of Zeus, leader of hosts, 65 send me back now at last to my dear native land, for now my heart is eager to return home.” Then Menelaus, good at the war-cry, answered him: “Telemachus, I certainly will not hold you here a long time, when you are eager to return. No, I should blame another, 70 who, as host, loves too much or hates too much; better is due measure in all things. It is equal wrong if a man speeds on a guest who is loath to go, and if he keeps back one who is eager to be gone. One should make welcome the present guest, and send forth the one who would go. 75 But stay, until I bring fair gifts and put them on your chariot, and your own eyes behold them, and until I bid the women make ready a meal in the halls from the abundant store that is within. It is a double boon—honor and glory it brings, and profit as well—that the traveller should dine before he goes forth over the wide and boundless earth. 80 And if you wish to journey through Hellas and mid-Argos, so be it, so that I may myself go with you, and I will yoke horses for you, and lead you to the cities of men. Nor will anyone send us away empty-handed, but will give us some one thing at least to carry with us, a fair bronze tripod or cauldron, 85 or a pair of mules, or a golden cup.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, fostered of Zeus, leader of hosts, rather would I go at once to my home, for when I departed I left behind me no one to watch over my possessions. 90 I would not wish that in seeking for my god-like father I myself should perish, or some fine treasure be lost from my halls.” Now when Menelaus, good in battle, heard this, he at once ordered his wife and her handmaids to make ready a meal in the halls from the abundant store that was within. 95 Up to him then came Eteoneus, son of Boethous, just risen from his bed, for he did not dwell far from him. Him Menelaus, good at the war-cry, ordered to kindle a fire and roast some of the meat; and he heard, and obeyed. And Menelaus himself went down to his vaulted treasure-chamber, 100 not alone, for with him went Helen and Megapenthes. But when they came to the place where his treasures were stored, the son of Atreus took a two-handled cup, and told his son Megapenthes to carry a mixing bowl of silver. And Helen came up to the chests 105 in which were her richly embroidered robes, which she herself had wrought. One of these Helen, the beautiful lady, lifted out and bore away, the one that was fairest in its embroideries, and the amplest. It shone like a star, and lay beneath all the rest. Then they went forth through the house until they came to 110 Telemachus; and fair-haired Menelaus spoke to him, and said: “Telemachus, may Zeus, the loud-thundering lord of Hera, truly bring to pass for you your return, even as your heart desires. And of all the gifts that lie stored as treasures in my house, I will give you the one that is fairest and costliest. 115 I will give you a well-wrought mixing-bowl. It is all of silver, and with gold are its rims gilded, the work of Hephaestus; and the warrior Phaedimus, king of the Sidonians, gave it to me, when his house sheltered me as I came there; and now I am minded to give it to you.” 120 So saying, the warrior, son of Atreus, placed the two-handled cup in his hands. And the strong Megapenthes brought the bright mixing-bowl of silver and set it before him, and fair-cheeked Helen came up with the robe in her hands, and spoke, and addressed him: 125 “See, I too give you this gift, dear child, a remembrance of the hands of Helen, against the day of your longed-for marriage, for your bride to wear it. But until then let it lie in your halls in the keeping of your dear mother. And for yourself I wish that with joy you may reach your well-built house and your native land.” 130 So saying, she placed it in his hands, and he took it gladly. And the prince Peisistratus took the gifts, and laid them in the box of the chariot, and gazed at them all wondering in his heart. Then fair-haired Menelaus led them to the house, and the two sat down on chairs and high seats. 135 And a handmaid brought water for the hands in a fair pitcher of gold, and poured it over a silver basin for them to wash, and beside them drew up a polished table. And the grave housewife brought and set before them bread, and with it food in abundance, granting freely of her store. 140 And close by the son of Boethous carved the meat, and divided the portions, and the son of glorious Menelaus poured the wine. So they put forth their hands to the good cheer lying ready before them. But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, then Telemachus and the glorious son of Nestor 145 yoked the horses and mounted the inlaid chariot, and drove forth from the gateway and the echoing portico. After them went the son of Atreus, fair-haired Menelaus, bearing in his right hand honey-hearted wine in a cup of gold, that they might pour libations before they set out. 150 And he took his stand before the horses, and pledged the youths, and said: “Farewell, young men, and bear greeting to Nestor, shepherd of the host, for truly he was kind as a father to me, while we sons of the Achaeans warred in the land of Troy.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: 155 “Yes, indeed, king, fostered of Zeus, to him we will tell all this on our coming, as you bid. And I wish that, when I return to Ithaca, I might as surely find Odysseus in his house, to tell him how I met with every kindness at your hands, before I departed, and bring with me treasures many and fine.” 160 Even as he spoke a bird flew by on the right, an eagle, bearing in his talons a great, white goose, a tame fowl from the yard, and men and women followed shouting. But the eagle drew near to them, and darted off to the right in front of the horses; and 165 they were glad as they saw it, and the hearts in the breasts of all were cheered. And among them Peisistratus, son of Nestor, was first to speak: “Consider, Menelaus, fostered of Zeus, leader of hosts, whether it was for us two that the god showed this sign, or for yourself.” So he spoke, and Menelaus, dear to Ares, pondered 170 how he might with understanding interpret the sign rightly. But long-robed Helen took the word from him, and said: “Hear me, and I will prophesy as the immortals put it into my heart, and as I think it will be brought to pass. Even as this eagle came 175 from the mountain, where his kin are, and where he was born, and snatched up the goose that was bred in the house, even so shall Odysseus return to his home after many toils and many wanderings, and shall take vengeance; or even now he is at home, and is sowing the seeds of evil for all the suitors.” Then again wise Telemachus answered her: 180 “So may Zeus grant, the loud-thundering lord of Hera; then even there I will always pray to you, as to a god.” He spoke, and touched the two horses with the lash, and they sped swiftly toward the plain, coursing eagerly through the city. So all day long they shook the yoke they bore about their necks. 185 And the sun set, and all the ways grew dark. And they came to Pherae, to the house of Diocles, son of Ortilochus, whom Alpheus begot. There they spent the night, and before them he set the entertainment due to strangers. As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, 190 they yoked the horses, and mounted the inlaid chariot, and drove forth from the gateway and the echoing portico. Then Peisistratus touched the horses with the whip to start them, and not unwilling the pair sped onward, and soon after they reached the steep citadel of Pylos. Then Telemachus spoke to the son of Nestor, saying: 195 “Son of Nestor, will you now make me a promise, and fulfil it, as I bid? Friends from of old we call ourselves by reason of our fathers' friendship, and we are moreover of the same age, and this journey shall yet more establish us in oneness of heart. Do not lead me past my ship, O you fostered of Zeus, but leave me there, 200 lest that old man keep me in his house against my will, eager to show me kindness, whereas I must hasten home.” So he spoke, and the son of Nestor took counsel with his heart, how he might duly give the promise and fulfil it. And, as he pondered, this seemed to him the better course. 205 He turned his horses to the swift ship and the shore of the sea, and took out, and set in the stern of the ship the beautiful gifts, the clothing and gold, which Menelaus gave him. And he urged on Telemachus, and addressed him with winged words: “Make haste now to go on board, and bid all your comrades to do likewise, 210 before I reach home and bring the old man word. For well I know this in mind and heart, so masterful is his spirit he will not let you go, but will himself come here to bid you to his house; and, I tell you, he will not go back without you; for very angry will he be, despite all.” 215 So saying, he drove his horses with beautiful mane back to the city of the Pylians, and speedily reached the palace. And Telemachus called to his men, and gave command to them, saying: “Set all the gear in order, men, in the black ship, and let us go on board ourselves, that we may speed on our way.” 220 So he spoke, and they readily listened and obeyed; and at once they went on board, and sat down upon the benches. He indeed was busied thus, and was praying and offering sacrifice to Athena by the stern of the ship, when there drew near to him a man from a far land, one that was fleeing out of Argos because he had slain a man; 225 and he was a prophet. By lineage he was sprung from Melampus, who of old dwelt in Pylos, mother of flocks, a rich man and one that had a very wealthy house among the Pylians, but had afterward come to a land of strangers, fleeing from his country and from great-hearted Neleus, the lordliest of living men, 230 who for a full year had kept much wealth from him by force. Now Melampus meanwhile lay bound with bitter bonds in the halls of Phylacus, suffering grievous pains because of the daughter of Neleus, and the terrible blindness of heart which the goddess, the Erinys, who brings houses to ruin, had laid upon him. 235 But he escaped his fate, and drove off the deep-lowing cattle from Phylace to Pylos, and avenged the cruel deed upon godlike Neleus, and brought the maiden home to be his own brother's wife. For himself, he went to the land of other men, to horse-pasturing Argos, for there it was appointed him 240 to dwell, bearing sway over many Argives. There he wedded a wife and built a high-roofed house, and begot Antiphates and Mantius, two stalwart sons. Now Antiphates begot great-hearted Oicles, and Oicles Amphiaraus, the rouser of the host, 245 whom Zeus, who bears the aegis, and Apollo heartily loved with all manner of love. Yet he did not reach the threshold of old age, but died in Thebe, because of a woman's gifts. To him were born sons, Alcmaeon and Amphilochus. And Mantius on his part begot Polypheides and Cleitus. 250 Now Cleitus golden-throned Dawn snatched away by reason of his beauty, that he might dwell with the immortals; but of Polypheides, high of heart, Apollo made a prophet, far the best of mortals, after Amphiaraus was dead. He moved to Hyperesia, having grown angry with his father, 255 and there he dwelt and prophesied to all men. His son it was, Theoclymenus by name, who now came and stood by Telemachus; and he found him pouring libations and praying by his swift, black ship, and he spoke, and addressed him with winged words: 260 “Friend, since I find you making burnt-offering in this place, I beseech you by your offerings and by the god, yes, and by your own life and the lives of your comrades who follow you, tell me truly what I ask, and do not hide it. Who are you among men, and from where? Where is your city, and where your parents?” 265 And wise Telemachus answered him: “Then truly, stranger, I will frankly tell you all. Of Ithaca I am by birth, and my father is Odysseus, as sure as ever such a one there was; but now he has perished by a pitiful fate. Therefore I have now taken my comrades and a black ship, 270 and have come to seek tidings of my father, who has long been gone.” Then godlike Theoclymenus answered him: “Even so have I, too, fled from my country, because I slew a man, one of my own kin. And many brothers and kinsmen of his there are in horse-pasturing Argos, and mightily do they bear sway over the Achaeans. 275 It is to shun death and black fate at their hands that I flee, for, I think, it is my lot to be a wanderer among men. But set me on your ship, since in my flight I have made prayer to you, lest they utterly slay me; for I think they are in pursuit.” And wise Telemachus answered him: 280 “Then I will in no way thrust you from my shapely ship, since you are eager to come. No, follow with us, and in our home you shall find entertainment such as we have.” So saying, he took from him his spear of bronze, and laid it at length on the deck of the curved ship, and himself went aboard the seafaring ship. 285 Then he sat down in the stern and made Theoclymenus sit down beside him; and his men loosed the stern cables. And Telemachus called to his men and told them to lay hold of the tackling, and they quickly obeyed. The mast of fir 290 they raised and set in the hollow socket, and made it fast with fore-stays, and hauled up the white sail with twisted thongs of oxhide. And flashing-eyed Athena sent them a favorable wind, blowing strongly through the sky, that, speeding swiftly, the ship might accomplish her way over the salt water of the sea. 295 So they fared past Crouni and Chalcis, with its beautiful streams. Now the sun set and all the ways grew dark. And the ship drew near to Pheae, sped by the wind of Zeus, and on past goodly Elis, where the Epeans hold sway. From there again he steered for the sharp isles 300 pondering whether he should escape death or be taken. But the two, Odysseus and the noble swineherd, were dining in the hut, and with them dined the other men. But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, Odysseus spoke among them, making trial of the swineherd to see 305 whether he would still entertain him with kindly care and bid him remain there at the farmstead, or send him forth to the city: “Listen now, Eumaeus, and all you other men. In the morning I am minded to go forth to the city to beg, that I may not be the ruin of you and of your men. Now then, give me good counsel, and send with me a trusty guide to lead me there; 310 but through the city I will wander by myself of necessity, in the hope that someone perhaps will give me a cup of water and a loaf. Yes, and I would go to the house of godlike Odysseus and bear tidings to the wise Penelope, 315 and join the company of the insolent suitors, if perhaps they may give me a meal, since they have good cheer in abundance. At once I might do good service among them in all that they would. For I will tell you, and give heed and listen. By the favour of Hermes, the messenger, who 320 lends grace and glory to all men's work, in the business of serving no other man can vie with me, in piling a fire well, in splitting dry kindling, in carving and roasting meat, and in pouring wine —in all things in which meaner men serve the noble.” 325 Then deeply moved you spoke to him, swineherd Eumaeus: “Ah me, stranger, why has such a thought come into your mind? Surely you are bent on utterly perishing there, if you would indeed enter the throng of the suitors, whose wantonness and violence reach the iron heaven. 330 Not such as you are their serving men; no, those who serve them are young men, well clad in cloaks and tunics, and always are their heads and bright faces sleek; and polished tables are laden with bread, and meat, and wine. 335 No, stay here; there is no one who is vexed by your presence, not I, nor any other of the men that are with me. But when the dear son of Odysseus comes, he will himself clothe you in a cloak and a tunic as clothing, and will send you wherever your heart and spirit bid you go.” 340 Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him: “I wish, Eumaeus, that you might be as dear to father Zeus as you are to me, since you have made me cease from wandering and from grievous hardships. Than roaming nothing else is more evil for mortals; yet for their cursed belly's sake 345 men endure evil woes, when wandering and sorrow and pain come upon them. But now, since you keep me here and bid me await your master, come, tell me of the mother of godlike Odysseus, and of the father, whom, when he went forth, he left behind him on the threshold of old age. Are they perhaps still living beneath the rays of the sun? 350 or are they now dead and in the house of Hades?” Then the swineherd, a leader of men, answered him: “Then truly, stranger, I will frankly tell you. Laertes still lives, but always prays to Zeus that his life may waste away from his limbs within his halls. 355 For wondrously does he grieve for his son that is gone, and for the wise lady, his wedded wife, whose death troubled him most of all, and brought him to untimely old age. But she died of grief for her glorious son by a miserable death, as I wish that no man may die 360 who dwells here as my friend and does me kindness. So long as she lived, though it was in sorrow, it was always a pleasure to me to ask and enquire after her, for she herself had brought me up with long-robed Ctimene, her noble daughter, whom she bore as her youngest child. 365 With her I was brought up, and the mother honored me little less than her own children. But when we both reached the longed-for prime of youth they sent her to Same to wed, and got themselves countless bridal gifts, but as for me, my lady clothed me in a cloak and tunic, very fine clothing, and gave me sandals for my feet 370 and sent me forth to the field; but in her heart she loved me the more. But now I lack all this, though for my own part the blessed gods make to prosper the work to which I give heed. From this I have eaten and drunk, and given to reverend strangers. But from my mistress I may hear nothing pleasant, 375 whether word or deed, for a plague has fallen upon the house, overweening men. Yet greatly do servants long to speak before their mistress, and learn of all, and to eat and drink, and afterward to carry off something also to the fields, such things as always make the heart of a servant grow warm.” 380 Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “See now, surely when you were but a child, swineherd Eumaeus, you wandered far from your country and your parents. But come now, tell me this, and declare it truly. Was a broad-wayed city of men sacked, 385 in which your father and honored mother dwelt? Or, when you were alone with your sheep or cattle, did enemies take you in their ships and bring you for sale to the house of this master of yours, who paid for you a good price?” Then the swineherd, a leader of men, answered him: 390 “Stranger, since you ask and question me about this, listen now in silence, and take your joy, and drink your wine, as you sit here. These nights are wondrously long. There is time for sleep, and there is time to take joy in hearing tales; you need not lie down until it is time; there is weariness even in too much sleep. 395 As for the rest, if any man's heart and spirit bid him, let him go forth and sleep, and at daybreak let him eat, and follow our master's swine. But we two will drink and feast in the hut, and will take delight each in the other's grievous woes, 400 as we recall them to mind. For in after time a man finds joy even in woes, whoever has suffered much, and wandered much. But this I will tell you, which you ask and enquire about. “There is an isle called Syria, if perhaps you have heard of it, above Ortygia, where are the turning-places of the sun. 405 It is not so very thickly settled, but it is a good land, rich in herds, rich in flocks, full of wine, abounding in wheat. Famine never comes into the land, nor does any hateful sickness besides fall on wretched mortals; but when the tribes of men grow old throughout the city, 410 Apollo, of the silver bow, comes with Artemis, and assails them with his gentle shafts, and slays them. In that isle are two cities, and all the land is divided between them, and over both ruled as king my father, Ctesius, son of Ormenus, a man like the immortals. 415 “There came Phoenicians, men famed for their ships, greedy rogues, bringing countless trinkets in their black ship. Now there was in my father's house a Phoenician woman, comely and tall, and skilled in glorious handiwork. Her the wily Phoenicians beguiled. 420 First, as she was washing clothes, one of them lay with her in love by the hollow ship; for this beguiles the minds of women, even though one is upright. Then he asked her who she was, and where she came from, and she at once showed him the high-roofed home of my father, and said: 425 “‘Out of Sidon, rich in bronze, I declare that I come, and I am the daughter of Arybas, to whom wealth flowed in streams. But Taphian pirates seized me, as I was coming from the fields, and brought me here, and sold me to the house of that man there, and he paid for me a good price.’ 430 “Then the man who had lain with her in secret answered her: ‘Would you then return again with us to your home, so that you may see the high-roofed house of your father and mother, and see them too? For in truth they still live, and are accounted rich.’ “Then the woman answered him, and said: 435 ‘This may well be, if you sailors will pledge yourselves by an oath, that you will bring me safely home.’ “So she spoke, and they all gave an oath to it, as she told them. But when they had sworn and made an end of the oath, the woman again spoke among them, and made answer: 440 “‘Be silent now, and let no one of your company speak to me, if he meets me in the street or perhaps at the well, lest someone go to the palace and tell the old king, and he grow suspicious and bind me with grievous bonds, and devise death for you. 445 No, keep my words in mind, and speed the barter of your wares. But, when your ship is laden with goods, let a message come quickly to me at the palace; for I will also bring whatever gold comes under my hand. Yes, and I would gladly give another thing for my passage. 450 There is a child of my noble master, whose nurse I am in the palace, such a cunning child, who always runs about outdoors with me. Him I would bring on board, and he would fetch you a vast price, wherever you might take him for sale among men of strange speech.’ “So saying, she departed to the fair palace. 455 And they remained there in our land a full year, and got by trade much substance in their hollow ship. But when their hollow ship was laden for their return, then they sent a messenger to bear tidings to the woman. There came a man, well versed in guile, to my father's house 460 with a necklace of gold, and with amber beads was it strung between. This the maidens in the hall and my honored mother were handling, and were gazing on it, and were offering him their price; but he nodded to the woman in silence. Then, when he had nodded to her, he went his way to the hollow ship, 465 but she took me by the hand, and led me forth from the house. Now in the fore-hall of the palace she found the cups and tables of the banqueters, who waited upon my father. They had gone forth to the council and the people's place of debate, but she quickly hid three goblets in her bosom, 470 and bore them away; and I followed in my heedlessness. Then the sun set, and all the ways grew dark. And we made haste and came to the fine harbor, where the swift ship of the Phoenicians was. Then they embarked, 475 putting both of us on board as well, and sailed over the watery ways, and Zeus sent them a favorable wind. For six days we sailed, night and day alike; but when Zeus, son of Cronos, brought upon us the seventh day, then Artemis, the archer, struck the woman, and she fell with a thud into the hold, as a sea bird plunges. 480 Her they cast forth to be a prey to seals and fishes, but I was left, my heart deeply stricken. Now the wind, as it bore them, and the wave, brought them to Ithaca, where Laertes bought me with his wealth. Thus it was that my eyes beheld this land.” 485 To him then Zeus-born Odysseus made answer, and said: “Eumaeus, in truth you have deeply stirred the heart in my breast in telling all this tale of the sorrow you have borne at heart. Yet truly in your case Zeus has given good side by side with the evil, since after all your toil you have come to the house of 490 a kindly man, who gives you food and drink, and that with kindness, and you live well; while as for me, it is while wandering through the many cities of men that I have come here.” Thus they spoke to one another, and then lay down to sleep, for no long time, but for a little; 495 for soon came fair-throned Dawn. But the comrades of Telemachus, drawing near the shore, furled the sail, and took down the mast quickly, and rowed the ship to her anchorage with their oars. Then they cast out the mooring-stones and made fast the stern cables, and themselves went forth upon the shore of the sea, 500 and made ready their meal and mixed the flaming wine. But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, among them wise Telemachus was the first to speak, saying: “Now row the black ship to the city, but I will visit the fields and the herdsmen, 505 and at evening will come to the city when I have looked over my lands. And in the morning I will set before you, as wages for your journey, a good feast of meat and sweet wine.” Then godlike Theoclymenus answered him: “Where shall I go, dear child? To whose house shall I come 510 of those who rule in rocky Ithaca? Or shall I go straight to your mother's house and yours?” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “If things were otherwise, I should bid you go even to our house, for there is in no way a lack of entertainment for strangers, but 515 it would be worse for yourself, since I shall be away, and my mother will not see you. For she does not often appear before the suitors in the house, but apart from them weaves at her loom in an upper chamber. But I will tell you of another man to whom you may go, Eurymachus, glorious son of wise Polybus, 520 whom now the men of Ithaca look upon as on a god. For he is by far the best man, and is most eager to marry my mother and to have the honor of Odysseus. Nevertheless Olympian Zeus, who dwells in the sky, knows this, whether or not before marriage he will fulfil for them the evil day.” 525 Even as he spoke a bird flew forth upon the right, a hawk, the swift messenger of Apollo. In his talons he held a dove, and was plucking her and shedding the feathers down on the ground midway between the ship and Telemachus himself. Then Theoclymenus called him apart from his companions, 530 and clasped his hand, and spoke, and addressed him: “Telemachus, surely not without a god's warrant has this bird flown forth upon our right, for I knew, as I looked upon him, that he was a bird of omen. Than yours there is no other house in the land of Ithaca more kingly; no, you are always supreme.” 535 Then wise Telemachus answered him again: “Ah, stranger, I wish that this word of yours might be fulfilled. Then you would at once know of kindness and many a gift from me, so that anyone who met you would call you blessed.” With that he spoke to Peiraeus, his trusty comrade: 540 “Peiraeus, son of Clytius, it is you who in other matters are accustomed to listen to me above all my comrades, who went with me to Pylos; so now, I pray you, take this stranger and give him kindly welcome in your house, and show him honor until I come.” 545 Then Peiraeus, the famous spearman, answered him: “Telemachus, even if you should stay here long, I will entertain him, and he shall have no lack of what is due to strangers.” So saying, he went on board the ship, and told his comrades themselves to embark and to loose the stern cables. So they went on board at once, and sat down upon the benches. 550 But Telemachus bound beneath his feet his fair sandals, and took his mighty spear, tipped with sharp bronze, from the deck of the ship. Then the men loosed the stern cables, and thrusting off, sailed to the city, as Telemachus ordered, the dear son of divine Odysseus. 555 But his feet bore him swiftly on, as he strode forward, until he reached the farmstead where his countless swine were, among whom slept the worthy swineherd with a heart loyal to his masters.
16Meanwhile the two in the hut, Odysseus and the noble swineherd, had kindled a fire, and were making ready their breakfast at dawn, and had sent out the herdsmen with the droves of swine; but around Telemachus the baying hounds fawned, 5 and did not bark as he drew near. And goodly Odysseus noted the fawning of the hounds, and the sound of footsteps fell upon his ears; and at once he spoke to Eumaeus winged words: “Eumaeus, surely some comrade of yours will be coming, or at least someone you know, for the hounds do not bark, 10 but fawn about him, and I hear the sound of footsteps.” Not yet was the word fully uttered, when his own dear son stood in the doorway. In amazement up sprang the swineherd, and from his hands the vessels fell with which he was busy as he mixed the flaming wine. And he went to meet his lord, 15 and kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes and his two hands, and a big tear fell from him. And as a loving father greets his own dear son, who comes in the tenth year from a distant land—his only son and well-beloved, for whose sake he has borne much sorrow— 20 even so did the noble swineherd then clasp in his arms godlike Telemachus, and kiss him all over as one escaped from death; and with wailing he addressed him with winged words: “You have come, Telemachus, sweet light of my eyes. I thought I should never see you again after you had gone in your ship to Pylos. 25 But come, come in, dear child, that I may delight my heart with looking at you here in my house, who are newly come from other lands. For you do not often visit the farm and the herdsmen, but stay in the town; so, I suppose, has it seemed good to your heart, to look upon the destructive throng of the suitors.” 30 Then wise Telemachus answered him: “So shall it be, father. It is for your sake that I have come here, to see you with my eyes, and to hear you tell whether my mother still remains in the halls, or whether by now some other man has wedded her, and the couch of Odysseus 35 lies perhaps in want of bedding, covered with foul spider-webs.” Then the swineherd, a leader of men, answered him: “Yes, truly, she remains with steadfast heart in your halls, and always sorrowfully for her the nights and the days wane as she weeps.” 40 So saying, he took from him the spear of bronze, and Telemachus went in and passed over the stone threshold. As he drew near, his father, Odysseus, rose from his seat and gave him place, but Telemachus on his part checked him, and said: “Be seated, stranger, and we shall find a seat elsewhere 45 in our farmstead. There is a man here who will set us one.” So he spoke, and Odysseus went back and sat down again, and for Telemachus the swineherd strewed green brushwood beneath and a fleece above it, and there the dear son of Odysseus sat down. Then the swineherd set before them platters 50 of roast meats, which they had left at their meal the day before, and quickly heaped up bread in baskets, and mixed in a bowl of ivy wood honey-sweet wine, and himself sat down opposite divine Odysseus. So they put out their hands to the good food lying ready before them. 55 But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, Telemachus spoke to the noble swineherd, and said: “Father, from where did this stranger come to you? How did sailors bring him to Ithaca? Who did they declare themselves to be? For in no way, I think, did he come here on foot.” 60 To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, did you make answer, and say: “Then truly, my child, I will tell you all the truth. From broad Crete he declares that he has birth, and he says that he has wandered roaming through many cities of mortals; so has a god spun for him this lot. 65 But now he has run away from a ship of the Thesprotians and come to my farmstead, and I shall put him in your hands. Do what you will. He declares himself your suppliant.” Then again wise Telemachus answered him: “Eumaeus, truly this word which you have uttered stings me to the heart. 70 For how am I to welcome this stranger in my house? I am myself but young, nor do I yet trust in my might to defend me against a man, when one grows angry without a cause. And as for my mother, the heart in her breast wavers this way and that, whether to remain here with me and keep the house, 75 respecting the bed of her husband and the voice of the people, or to go now with whoever is best of the Achaeans that woo her in the halls, and offers the most gifts of wooing. But truly, as regards this stranger, now that he has come to your house, I will clothe him in a cloak and tunic, fine clothing, 80 and will give him a two-edged sword, and sandals for his feet, and send him wherever his heart and spirit tell him to go. Or, if you will, keep him here at the farmstead, and care for him, and clothing will I send here and all his food to eat, so that he may not be the ruin of you and of your men. 85 But there I will not allow him to go, to join the company of the suitors, for they are over-full of wanton insolence, lest they mock him, and dread grief come upon me. And to achieve anything is hard for one man among many, however mighty he may be, for truly they are far stronger.” 90 Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him: “Friend, since surely it is right for me to make answer—truly you rend my heart, as I hear your words, such wantonness you say the suitors devise in the halls in defiance of you, so noble a man. 95 Tell me, are you willingly oppressed in this way? Or do the people throughout the land hate you, following the voice of a god? Or have you cause to blame your brothers, in whose fighting a man trusts even if a great strife arises. I wish that with my present temper I were as young as you, 100 either the son of blameless Odysseus, or Odysseus himself, then at once might some stranger cut my head from off my neck, if I did not prove myself the bane of them all when I had come to the halls of Odysseus, son of Laertes. 105 But if they should overwhelm me by their numbers, alone as I was, far rather would I die, slain in my own halls, than behold continually these shameful deeds, strangers mishandled, and men dragging the handmaidens in shameful fashion through the fair halls, 110 and wine drawn to waste, and men devouring my bread all heedlessly, without limit, with no end to the business.” And wise Telemachus answered him: “Then truly, stranger, I will frankly tell you all. Neither do the people at large bear me any grudge or hatred, 115 nor have I cause to blame brothers, in whose fighting a man trusts, even if a great strife arises. For in this way has the son of Cronos made our house to run in but a single line. As his only son did Arceisius beget Laertes, as his only son again did his father beget Odysseus, and Odysseus 120 begot me as his only son, and left me in his halls, and had no joy of me. Therefore it is that foes past counting are now in the house; for all the princes who hold sway over the islands—Dulichium, and Same, and wooded Zacynthus—and those who lord it over rocky Ithaca, 125 all these woo my mother and lay waste my house. And she neither refuses the hateful marriage, nor is she able to make an end; but they with feasting consume my substance, and will before long bring me, too, to ruin. Yet these things truly lie on the knees of the gods. 130 But, father, go with speed, and tell constant Penelope that she has me safe, and I have come from Pylos. But I will remain here, and come back here, when you have told your tale to her alone; but of the rest of the Achaeans let no one learn it, for many there are who contrive evil against me.” 135 To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, did you make answer, and say: “I see, I take heed; this you ask of one with understanding. But come now, tell me this, and declare it truly; whether I shall go on the self-same way with tidings to Laertes also, wretched man, who for a time, though grieving deeply for Odysseus, 140 was still accustomed to oversee the fields, and would eat and drink with the slaves in the house, as the heart in his breast told him. But now, from the day when you went in your ship to Pylos, they say he has no more eaten and drunk as before, nor overseen the fields, but with groaning and wailing 145 he sits and weeps, and the flesh wastes from off his bones.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “It is the sadder; but none the less we will let him be, despite our sorrow; for if in any way all things might be had by mortals for the wishing, we should choose first of all the day of my father's return. 150 No, come back, when you have given your message, and do not wander over the fields in search of Laertes; but tell my mother with all speed to send out her handmaid, the housekeeper, secretly, for she might bear word to the old man.” With this he roused the swineherd, and he took his sandals in his hands 155 and bound them beneath his feet and went out to the city. Nor was Athena unaware that the swineherd Eumaeus was gone from the farmstead, but she drew near in the likeness of a woman, beautiful and tall, and skilled in glorious handiwork. And she stood opposite the door of the hut, showing herself to Odysseus, 160 but Telemachus did not see her before him, or notice her; for in no way do the gods appear in manifest presence to all. But Odysseus saw her, and the hounds, and they did not bark, but with whining slunk in fear to the further side of the farmstead. Then she made a sign with her brows, and goodly Odysseus perceived it, 165 and went out from the hall, past the great wall of the court, and stood before her, and Athena spoke to him, saying: “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, even now reveal your word to your son, and do not hide it, so that when you two have planned death and fate for the suitors, 170 you may go to the famous city. Nor will I myself be long away from you, for I am eager for the battle.” With this, Athena touched him with her golden wand. A well-washed cloak and a tunic she first of all cast about his breast, and she increased his stature and his youthful bloom. 175 Once more he grew dark of color, and his cheeks filled out, and dark grew the beard about his chin. Then, when she had done this, she departed, but Odysseus went into the hut. And his dear son marvelled, and, seized with fear, turned his eyes aside, lest it should be a god. 180 And he spoke, and addressed him with winged words: “Of another sort you seem to me now, stranger, than a while ago, and other are the garments you have on, and your color is no longer the same. Surely you are a god, one of those who hold broad heaven. Then be gracious, that we may offer to you acceptable sacrifices 185 and golden gifts, finely wrought; but spare us.” Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him: “Be sure I am no god; why do you liken me to the immortals? No, I am your father, for whose sake you endure with groaning many griefs, and submit to the violence of men.”[5] 190 So saying, he kissed his son, and from his cheeks let fall a tear to earth, but before he had always steadfastly held them back. But Telemachus—for he did not yet believe that it was his father—again answered, and spoke to him, saying: “You surely are not my father Odysseus, but some god 195 deceives me, that I may weep and groan yet more. For in no way could a mortal man contrive this by his own wit, unless a god were himself to come to him, and easily by his will make him young or old. For truly just now you were an old man and poorly clad, 200 whereas now you are like the gods, who hold broad heaven.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Telemachus, it does not become you to wonder too much that your father is in the house, or to be amazed. For you may be sure no other Odysseus will ever come here; 205 but I here, I, even such as you see me, after sufferings and many wanderings, have come in the twentieth year to my native land. But this, you must know, is the work of Athena, driver of the spoil, who makes me such as she will—for she has the power—now like a beggar, and now again 210 like a young man, and one wearing fine clothing about his body. Easy it is for the gods, who hold broad heaven, both to glorify a mortal man and to abase him.” So saying, he sat down, and Telemachus, flinging his arms about his noble father, wept and shed tears, 215 and in the hearts of both arose a longing for lamentation. And they wailed aloud more vehemently than birds, sea-eagles, or vultures with crooked talons, whose young the country-folk have taken from their nest before they were fledged; even so piteously did they let tears fall from beneath their brows. 220 And now would the light of the sun have gone down upon their weeping, had not Telemachus spoken to his father suddenly: “In what manner of ship, dear father, have sailors now brought you here to Ithaca? Who did they declare themselves to be? For in no way, I think, did you come here on foot.” 225 And the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him: “Then truly, my child, I will tell you all the truth. The Phaeacians brought me, men famed for their ships, who send other men too on their way, whoever comes to them. And they brought me as I slept in a swift ship over the sea, 230 and set me down in Ithaca, and gave me glorious gifts, stores of bronze and gold and woven clothing. These treasures, by the favour of the gods, are lying in caves. And now I have come here at the bidding of Athena, that we may take counsel about the slaying of our foes. 235 Come now, count me the suitors, and tell their tale, that I may know how many they are and what manner of men, and that I may ponder in my noble heart and decide whether we two shall be able to maintain our cause against them alone without others, or whether we shall also seek out others.” 240 Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Father, in truth I have always heard of your great fame, that you were a warrior in strength of hand and in wise counsel, but this you say is too great; amazement holds me. It could not be that two men should fight against many men and mighty. 245 For of the suitors there are not ten alone, or twice ten, but very many more. Here as we are you shall at once learn their number. From Dulichium there are two and fifty chosen youths, and six serving men attend them; from Same came four and twenty men; 250 from Zacynthus there are twenty youths of the Achaeans; and from Ithaca itself twelve men, all of them the noblest, and with them is Medon, the herald, and the divine minstrel, and two squires skilled in carving meats. If we meet all these within the halls, 255 bitter, I fear, and ruinous will be your coming to avenge violence. Consider, then, if you can think of any helper—one that would aid us two with a ready heart.” Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him: “Well, then, I will tell you, and take heed and listen to my words, 260 and consider whether for us two Athena, with father Zeus, will be enough, or whether I shall think of some other helper.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Good, you may be sure, are these two helpers whom you mention, though high in the clouds they dwell, and they 265 rule over all men alike and the immortal gods.” Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered: “Not long, surely, will those two hold aloof from the mighty fray, when between the suitors and us in my halls the might of Ares is put to the test. 270 But for the present, go at daybreak to your house and join the company of the haughty suitors. As for me, the swineherd will lead me later on to the city in the likeness of a woeful and aged beggar. And if they treat me with contempt in the house, 275 let the heart in your breast endure while I am mistreated, even if they drag me by the feet through the house to the door, or hurl things at me and strike me; still endure to behold it. You shall indeed tell them to cease their folly, seeking to dissuade them with gentle words; yet in no way 280 will they listen to you, for truly their day of doom is at hand. And another thing I will tell you, and lay it to heart. When Athena, rich in counsel, puts it in my mind, I will nod to you with my head; and then, when you note it, take all the weapons of war that lie in your halls, 285 and lay them away one and all in the secret place of the lofty store-room. And as for the suitors, when they miss the arms and question you, deceive them with gentle words, saying: “‘Out of the smoke have I laid them, since they are no longer like those which long ago Odysseus left behind him when he went off to Troy, 290 but are all befouled so far as the breath of the fire has reached them. And furthermore this greater fear has the son of Cronos put in my heart, lest perhaps, when heated with wine, you may set a quarrel afoot among you and wound one another, and so bring shame on your feast and on your wooing. For of itself the iron draws a man to it.’ 295 “But for us two alone leave behind two swords and two spears, and two ox-hide shields for us to grasp, that we may rush upon them and seize them; while as for the suitors, Pallas Athena and Zeus, the counsellor, will deceive them. And another thing I will tell you, and lay it to heart. 300 If in truth you are my son and of our blood, then let no one hear that Odysseus is at home; let neither Laertes know it, nor the swineherd, nor any of the household, nor Penelope herself; but by ourselves you and I will learn the temper of the women. 305 Yes, and we will likewise make trial of many a one of the serving men, and see where any of them honours us two and fears us at heart, and who does not care for us and scorns you, a man so noble.” Then his glorious son answered him, and said: “Father, my spirit, I think, 310 you shall truly come to know hereafter, for no slackness of will possesses me. But I do not think that this plan will be a gain to us both, and so I ask you to take thought. For a long time you will go about in vain, making trial of each man as you visit the farms, while in your halls those others at their ease 315 are wasting your substance in insolent fashion, and there is no sparing. Yet truly, as for the women, I do urge you to learn who among them dishonor you, and who are guiltless. But of the men in the farmsteads I would not have us make trial, but would have us deal with them hereafter, 320 if in very truth you know some sign from Zeus who bears the aegis.” Thus they spoke to one another, but meanwhile into Ithaca put the well-built ship that brought Telemachus and all his comrades from Pylos; and they, when they had come into the deep harbor, 325 drew the black ship up on the shore, while proud squires carried out their armour and at once carried the beautiful gifts to the house of Clytius. But they sent a herald out to the house of Odysseus to bear word to wise Penelope 330 that Telemachus was at the farm, and had told the ship to sail on to the city, lest the noble queen might grow anxious and let round tears fall. So the two met, the herald and the noble swineherd, on the self-same errand, to bear tidings to the lady. 335 And when they reached the palace of the godlike king, the herald spoke out in the midst of the handmaids, and said: “Even now, queen, your son has come back from Pylos.” But the swineherd came close to Penelope and told her all that her dear son had told him to say. 340 And when he had fully told all that had been commanded him, he went his way to the swine and left the courtyard and the hall. But the suitors were dismayed and downcast in spirit, and out they went from the hall past the great wall of the court, and there before the gates they sat down. 345 Then among them Eurymachus, son of Polybus, was the first to speak: “My friends, truly a great deed has been insolently brought to pass by Telemachus, even this journey, and we deemed that he would never see it accomplished. But come, let us launch a black ship, the best we have, and let us get together seamen as rowers that they may at once 350 bear tidings to those others to return home speedily.” Not yet was the word fully uttered when Amphinomus, turning in his place, saw a ship in the deep harbor and men furling the sail, and with oars in their hands. Then, breaking into a merry laugh, he spoke among his comrades: 355 “Let us not be sending a message any more, for here they are at home. Either some god told them of this, or they themselves caught sight of the ship of Telemachus as she sailed by, but could not catch her.” So he spoke, and they rose up and went to the shore of the sea. Swiftly the men drew up the black ship on the shore, 360 and proud squires carried out their armour. They themselves meanwhile went all together to the place of assembly, and they would allow no other to sit with them, either of the young men or the old. Then among them spoke Antinous, son of Eupeithes: “See now, how the gods have delivered this man from destruction. 365 Day by day watchmen sat upon the windy heights, watch always following watch, and at set of sun we never spent a night upon the shore, but sailing over the deep in our swift ship we waited for the bright Dawn, lying in wait for Telemachus, that we might take him and slay 370 the man himself; yet meanwhile some god has brought him home. But, on our part, let us here devise for him a woeful death, even for Telemachus, and let him not escape out of our hands, for I deem that while he lives this work of ours will not prosper. For he is himself shrewd in counsel and in wisdom, 375 and the people in no way show us favour any more. Come, before he gathers the Achaeans to the place of assembly—for I think he will in no way be slow to act, but will be full of wrath, and rising up will declare among them all how we contrived against him utter destruction, but did not catch him; 380 and they will not praise us when they hear of our evil deeds. Beware, then, lest they work us some harm and drive us out from our country, and we come to the land of strangers. No, let us act first, and seize him in the field far from the city, or on the road; and his substance let us ourselves keep, and his wealth, 385 dividing them fairly among us; though the house we would give to his mother to possess, and to him who weds her. But if this plan does not please you, but you choose rather that he should live and keep all the wealth of his fathers, let us not continue to devour his store of pleasant things 390 as we gather together here, but let each man from his own hall woo her with his gifts and seek to win her; and she then would wed him who offers most, and who comes as her fated lord.” So he spoke, and they were all hushed in silence. Then Amphinomus addressed their assembly, and spoke among them. 395 He was the glorious son of the prince Nisus, son of Aretias, and he led the suitors who came from Dulichium, rich in wheat and in grass, and above all the others he pleased Penelope with his words, for he had an understanding heart. He it was who with good intent addressed their assembly, and spoke among them: 400 “Friends, I surely would not choose to kill Telemachus; a dread thing it is to slay one of royal stock. No, let us first seek to learn the will of the gods. If the oracles of great Zeus approve, I will myself slay him, and order all the others to do so; 405 but if the gods turn us from the act, I urge you to desist.” Thus spoke Amphinomus, and his word was pleasing to them. So they arose at once and went to the house of Odysseus, and entering, sat down on the polished seats. Then the wise Penelope took other counsel, 410 to show herself to the suitors, overweening in their insolence. For she had learned of the threatened death of her son in her halls, for the herald Medon told her, who had heard their counsel. So she went her way toward the hall with her handmaids. But when the fair lady reached the suitors, 415 she stood by the doorpost of the well-built hall, holding before her face her shining veil; and she rebuked Antinous, and spoke, and addressed him: “Antinous, full of insolence, deviser of evil! and yet it is you, men say, who excel among all of your years in the land of Ithaca 420 in counsel and in speech. But you, it seems, are not such a man. Madman! why do you devise death and fate for Telemachus, and do not care for suppliants, for whom Zeus is witness. It is an impious thing to plot evil one against another. Do you not know of the time when your father came to this house a fugitive 425 in terror of the people? For in truth they were greatly angered with him because he had joined Taphian pirates and harried the Thesprotians, who were in league with us. Him, then, they were minded to slay, and take from him his life by violence, and utterly to devour his great and pleasant livelihood; 430 but Odysseus held them back, and stayed them despite their eagerness. His house it is that you consume now without atonement, and woo his wife, and seek to slay his son, and on me you bring great distress. No, forbear, I charge you, and tell the rest to forbear.” Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her: 435 “Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, be of good cheer, and let these things not distress your heart. That man does not live, nor shall live, nor shall ever be born, who shall lay hands upon your son Telemachus while I live and behold the light upon the earth. 440 For thus will I speak out to you, and truly it shall be brought to pass. Quickly shall that man's black blood flow forth about my spear; for in truth me, too, did Odysseus the sacker of cities often set upon his knees, and put roast meat in my hands, and hold to my lips red wine. 445 Therefore Telemachus is far the dearest of all men to me, and I tell him to have no fear of death, at least from the suitors; but from the gods no man can avoid it.” Thus he spoke to cheer her, but against that son he was himself plotting death. So she went up to her bright upper chamber 450 and then bewailed Odysseus, her dear husband, until flashing-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids. But at evening the noble swineherd came back to Odysseus and his son, and they were busily making ready their supper, and had slain a boar a year old. Then Athena 455 came close to Odysseus, son of Laertes, and struck him with her wand, and again made him an old man; and poor clothing she put about his body, lest the swineherd might look upon him and know him, and might go to bear tidings to constant Penelope, and not hold the secret fast in his heart. 460 Now Telemachus spoke first to the swineherd, and said: “You have come, goodly Eumaeus. What news is there in the city? Have the proud suitors by this time come home from their ambush, or are they still watching for me where they were, to take me on my homeward way?” To him, then, swineherd Eumaeus, did you make answer and say: 465 “I was not minded to go about the city, asking and inquiring of this; my heart told me with all speed to come back here when I had given my message. But there joined me a swift messenger from your companions, a herald, who was the first to tell the news to your mother. 470 And this further thing I know, for I saw it with my eyes. I was now above the city, as I went on my way, where the hill of Hermes is, when I saw a swift ship putting into our harbor, and there were many men in her, and she was laden with shields and double-pointed spears. 475 And I thought it was they, but I have no knowledge.” So he spoke, and the strong and mighty Telemachus smiled and with his eyes he glanced at his father, but shunned the swineherd's eye. And when they had ceased from their labour and had made ready the meal, they fell to feasting, nor did their hearts lack anything of the equal feast. 480 But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, they turned their thoughts to rest, and took the gift of sleep.
17As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, Telemachus, the dear son of divine Odysseus, bound beneath his feet his fair sandals and took his mighty spear, that fitted his grasp, 5 hurrying to the city; and he spoke to his swineherd, saying: “Father, I am indeed going to the city, that my mother may see me, for, I think, she will not cease from woeful wailing and tearful lamentation until she sees my very self. But to you I give this charge. 10 Lead this wretched stranger to the city, that there he may beg his food, and whoever will shall give him a loaf and a cup of water. For my part, I can in no way burden myself with all men, seeing that I have grief at heart. But if the stranger is greatly angered at this, 15 it will be the worse for him. I truly love to speak the truth.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Friend, be sure I do not myself wish to be left here. For a beggar it is better to beg his food in the town than in the fields, and whoever will shall give it to me. 20 For I am no longer of an age to remain at the farmstead, so as to obey in all things the command of an overseer. No, go your way; this man whom you order will lead me as soon as I have warmed myself at the fire, and the sun has grown hot. For miserably poor are these garments which I wear, and I fear lest 25 the morning frost may overcome me; and you say it is far to the city.” So he spoke, and Telemachus passed out through the farmstead with rapid strides, and was sowing the seeds of evil for the suitors. But when he came to the stately house he set his spear in place, leaning it against a tall pillar, 30 and himself went in and crossed the threshold of stone. Him the nurse Eurycleia was far the first to see, as she was spreading fleeces on the richly-wrought chairs. With a burst of tears she came straight toward him, and all around them gathered the other maids of Odysseus of the steadfast heart, 35 and they kissed his head and shoulders in loving welcome. Then out from her chamber came wise Penelope, like Artemis or golden Aphrodite, and bursting into tears she flung her arms about her dear son, and kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes; 40 and with wailing she spoke to him winged words: “You have come, Telemachus, sweet light of my eyes; I thought I should never see you again after you had gone in your ship to Pylos—secretly, and against my will, to seek news of your dear father. Come, then, tell me what sight you had of him.” 45 Then wise Telemachus answered her: “My mother, do not stir up lamentation, I beg you, nor rouse the heart in my breast, seeing that I have escaped from utter destruction. No, bathe yourself, and take clean clothing for your body, and then, going to your upper chamber with your handmaids, 50 vow to all the gods that you will offer hecatombs that bring fulfillment, in the hope that Zeus may some day bring deeds of requital to pass. But I will go to the place of assembly that I may invite to our house a stranger who followed me from Pylos on my way here. Him I sent forward with my godlike comrades, 55 and I told Peiraeus to take him home and give him kindly welcome, and show him honor until I should come.” So he spoke, but her word remained unwinged. Then she bathed and took clean clothing for her body, and vowed to all the gods that she would offer hecatombs 60 that bring fulfillment, in the hope that Zeus would some day bring deeds of requital to pass. But Telemachus then went out through the hall with his spear in his hand, and with him went two swift hounds. And wondrous was the grace that Athena shed upon him, and all the people marvelled at him as he came. 65 All around him the proud suitors thronged, speaking fair words to him, but pondering evil in the depths of their hearts. But he avoided the great throng of these men, and where Mentor sat, and Antiphus, and Halitherses, who were friends of his father's house of old, 70 there he went and sat down, and they questioned him about each thing. Then Peiraeus, the famous spearman, drew near, leading the stranger through the city to the place of assembly; and Telemachus did not long turn away from his guest, but went up to him. Then Peiraeus was the first to speak, saying: 75 “Telemachus, quickly send women to my house, that I may send to you the gifts which Menelaus gave you.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Peiraeus, we do not know how these things will be. If the proud suitors 80 secretly slay me in my hall, and divide among them all the goods of my fathers, I would rather that you should keep and enjoy these things yourself than one of these. But if I sow for them the seeds of death and fate, then bring all to my house gladly, as I shall be glad.” So saying, he led the weary stranger to the house. 85 Now when they had come to the stately house they laid their cloaks on the chairs and high seats, and went into the polished baths and bathed. And when the maids had bathed them and anointed them with oil, and had put fleecy cloaks and tunics about them, 90 they came out from the baths and sat down upon the chairs. Then a handmaid brought water for the hands in a fair pitcher of gold, and poured it over a silver basin for them to wash, and beside them drew up a polished table. And the grave housewife brought and set before them bread, 95 and with it dishes in abundance, granting freely of her store. And his mother sat opposite Telemachus by the door-post of the hall, leaning against a chair and spinning fine threads of yarn. So they put out their hands to the good cheer lying ready before them. But when they had put from them the desire for food and drink, 100 the wise Penelope spoke first among them: “Telemachus, I truly will go to my upper chamber and lie on my bed, which has become for me a bed of wailing, always wet with my tears, since the day when Odysseus set out with the sons of Atreus for Ilios. But you took no care, 105 before the proud suitors come into this house, to tell me plainly of the return of your father, if perhaps you heard anything.” And wise Telemachus answered her: “Then truly, mother, I will tell you all the truth. We went to Pylos and to Nestor, the shepherd of the people, 110 and he received me in his lofty house and gave me kindly welcome, as a father might his own son who after a long time had newly come from afar: just as kindly he tended me with his glorious sons. Yet of Odysseus of the steadfast heart, 115 whether living or dead, he said he had heard nothing from any man on earth. But he sent me on my way with horses and jointed chariot to Menelaus, son of Atreus, the famous spearman. There I saw Argive Helen, for whose sake Argives and Trojans toiled much by the will of the gods. 120 And immediately Menelaus, good at the war-cry, asked me in quest of what I had come to goodly Lacedaemon; and I told him all the truth. Then he made answer to me, and said: “‘Shame on them! for truly in the bed of a man of valiant heart 125 they wished to lie, who are themselves cowards. Just as when in the thicket-lair of a mighty lion a hind has laid to sleep her new-born suckling fawns, and roams over the mountain slopes and grassy valleys seeking pasture, and then the lion comes to his lair 130 and upon the two lets loose a cruel doom, so will Odysseus let loose a cruel doom upon these men. I would, O father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo, that in such strength, as when once in fair-stablished Lesbos he rose up and wrestled a match with Philomeleides 135 and threw him mightily, and all the Achaeans rejoiced, in just such strength Odysseus might come among the suitors; then would they all find swift destruction and bitterness in their wooing. But in this matter of which you ask and entreat me, truly I will not swerve aside to speak of other things, nor will I deceive you; 140 but of all that the unerring old man of the sea told me, not one thing will I hide from you or conceal. He said that he had seen Odysseus on an island in grievous distress, in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him there by force. And he cannot come to his own native land, for he has at hand no ships with oars, and no comrades, 145 to send him on his way over the broad back of the sea.’ “So spoke Menelaus, son of Atreus, the famous spearman. Now when I had made an end of all this I set out for home, and the immortals gave me a fair wind and brought me quickly to my dear native land.” 150 So he spoke, and stirred the heart in her breast. Then among them spoke also the godlike Theoclymenus, saying: “Honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, he truly has no clear understanding; but listen to my words, for with certain knowledge will I prophesy to you, and will hide nothing. 155 Be my witness Zeus above all gods, and this hospitable table and the hearth of noble Odysseus to which I have come, that truly Odysseus is even now in his native land, resting or moving, learning of these evil deeds, and he is sowing the seeds of evil for all the suitors. 160 So plain a bird of omen did I see as I sat on the benched ship, and I declared it to Telemachus.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Ah, stranger, I wish that this word of yours might be fulfilled. Then you would at once know of kindness and many a gift 165 from me, so that one who met you would call you blessed.” Thus they spoke to one another. And the suitors meanwhile in front of the palace of Odysseus were making merry, throwing the discus and the javelin in a levelled place, as was their custom, in insolence of heart. 170 But when it was the hour for dinner, and the flocks came in from all sides from the fields, and the men who usually led them led them, then Medon, who of all the heralds was most to their liking and was always present at their feasts, spoke to them, saying: “Youths, now that you have all made glad your hearts with sport, 175 come to the house that we may make ready a feast; for it is no bad thing to take one's dinner in season.” So he spoke, and they rose up and went, and heeded his word. And when they had come to the stately house they laid their cloaks on the chairs and high seats, 180 and men fell to slaying great sheep and fat goats, yes, and fatted swine, and a heifer of the herd, and so made ready the meal. But Odysseus and the noble swineherd were making haste to go from the field to the city; and the swineherd, a leader of men, spoke first, and said: 185 “Stranger, since you are eager to go to the city today, as my master ordered—though for myself I would rather have you left here to keep the farmstead; but I revere and fear him, lest later he scold me, and hard are the rebukes of masters— 190 come now, let us go. The day is far spent, and soon you will find it colder toward evening.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “I see, I take heed; this you are telling one with understanding. Come, let us go, and be my guide all the way. 195 But give me a staff to lean upon, if you have one cut anywhere, for truly you said that the way was treacherous.” He spoke, and flung about his shoulders his miserable wallet, full of holes, slung by a twisted cord, and Eumaeus gave him a staff to his liking. 200 So the two of them set out, and the dogs and the herdsmen stayed behind to guard the farmstead; but the swineherd led his master to the city in the likeness of a woeful and aged beggar, leaning on a staff; and miserable was the clothing that he wore about his body. But when, as they went along the rugged path, 205 they were near the city, and had come to a well-wrought, fair-flowing fountain, from which the townsfolk drew water—this Ithacus had made, and Neritus, and Polyctor, and around was a grove of poplars, that grow by the waters, circling it on all sides, and down the cold water flowed 210 from the rock above, and on the top was built an altar to the nymphs where all passers-by made offerings—there Melantheus, son of Dolius, met them as he was driving his she-goats, the best that were in all the herds, to make a feast for the suitors; and two herdsmen followed with him. 215 As he saw them, he spoke and addressed them, and reviled them in terrible and unseemly words, and stirred the heart of Odysseus: “See, now, in very truth the vile leads the vile. As always, the god is bringing like and like together. Where, tell me, are you leading this filthy wretch, you miserable swineherd, 220 this nuisance of a beggar to spoil our feasts? He is a man to stand and rub his shoulders on many doorposts, begging for scraps, not for swords or cauldrons. If you would give me this fellow to keep my farmstead, to sweep out the pens and to carry young shoots to the kids, 225 then by drinking whey he might get himself a sturdy thigh. But since he has learned only deeds of evil, he will not care to busy himself with work, but is minded rather to go skulking through the land, that by begging he may feed his insatiable belly. But I will speak out to you, and this word shall truly be brought to pass. 230 If he comes to the palace of divine Odysseus, many a footstool, hurled about his head by the hands of those that are men, shall be broken on his ribs as he is pelted through the house.” So he spoke, and as he passed he kicked Odysseus on the hip in his folly, yet he did not drive him from the path, 235 but he stood steadfast. And Odysseus pondered whether he should leap upon him and take his life with his staff, or seize him around the middle, and lift him up, and dash his head upon the ground. Yet he endured, and held himself back from his purpose. And the swineherd looked the man in the face, and rebuked him, and lifted up his hands, and prayed aloud: 240 “Nymphs of the fountain, daughters of Zeus, if ever Odysseus burned upon your altars pieces of the thighs of lambs or kids, wrapped in rich fat, fulfil for me this prayer; grant that he, my master, may come back, and that some god may guide him. Then would he scatter all the proud airs 245 which you now put on in your insolence, always roaming about the city, while evil herdsmen destroy the flock.” Then Melanthius, the goatherd, answered him: “See now, how the cur talks, his mind full of mischief. Him will I some day 250 take on a black, benched ship far from Ithaca, that he may bring me in much wealth. I wish that Apollo, of the silver bow, might strike Telemachus today in the halls, or that he might be slain by the suitors, as surely as for Odysseus in a far land the day of return has been lost.” So saying, he left them there, as they walked slowly on, 255 but himself strode forward and very swiftly came to the palace of the king. At once he went in and sat down among the suitors opposite Eurymachus, for he loved him best of all. Then by him those that served set a portion of meat, and the grave housewife brought and set before him bread, 260 for him to eat. And Odysseus and the noble swineherd halted as they drew near, and about them rang the sound of the hollow lyre, for Phemius was striking the chords to sing before the suitors. Then Odysseus clasped the swineherd by the hand, and said: “Eumaeus, surely this is the beautiful house of Odysseus. 265 Easily might it be known, though seen among many. There is building upon building, and the court is built with wall and coping, and the double gates are well-fenced; no man may scorn it. And I notice that in the house itself many 270 men are feasting: for the savour of meat arises from it, and with it resounds the voice of the lyre, which the gods have made the companion of the feast.” To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, did you make answer, and say: “Easily have you noticed it, for in all things you are ready of wit. But come, let us take thought how these things shall be. 275 Either go first into the stately palace, and enter the company of the suitors, and I will remain behind here, or, if you wish, remain here and I will go before you. But do not linger long, lest some man see you outside and pelt you or strike you. I urge you to take thought of this.” 280 Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him: “I see, I take heed: this you are telling one with understanding. But go before, and I will remain behind here; for not at all unused am I to blows and peltings. Staunch is my heart, for much evil have I suffered 285 amid the waves and in war; let this too be added to what has gone before. But a ravening belly no man may hide, an accursed plague that brings many evils upon men. Because of it are the benched ships also made ready, that bear evil to foemen over the unresting sea.” 290 Thus they spoke to one another. And a hound that lay there raised his head and pricked up his ears, Argos, the hound of Odysseus, of the steadfast heart, whom of old he had himself bred, but had no joy of him, for before that he went to sacred Ilios. In days past the young men used to take the hound to hunt 295 the wild goats, and deer, and hares; but now he lay neglected, his master gone, in the deep dung of mules and cattle, which lay in heaps before the doors, till the slaves of Odysseus should take it away to manure his wide lands. 300 There lay the hound Argos, full of vermin; yet even now, when he noticed Odysseus standing near, he wagged his tail and dropped both his ears, but nearer to his master he no longer had strength to move. Then Odysseus looked aside and wiped away a tear, 305 easily hiding from Eumaeus what he did; and at once he questioned him, and said: “Eumaeus, truly it is strange that this hound lies here in the dung. He is fine of form, but I do not clearly know whether he has speed of foot to match this beauty or whether he is merely as table-dogs 310 are, which their masters keep for show.” To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, did you make answer and say: “Yes, truly this is the hound of a man that has died in a far land. If he were but in form and in action such as he was when Odysseus left him and went to Troy, 315 you would soon be amazed at seeing his speed and his strength. No creature that he started in the depths of the thick wood could escape him, and in tracking too he was keen of scent. But now he is in evil plight, and his master has perished far from his native land, and the heedless women give him no care. 320 Slaves, when their masters lose their power, are no longer minded after that to do honest service: for Zeus, whose voice is borne afar, takes away half his worth from a man, when the day of slavery comes upon him.” So saying, he entered the stately house 325 and went straight to the hall to join the company of the lordly suitors. But as for Argos, the fate of black death seized him at once when he had seen Odysseus in the twentieth year. Now as the swineherd came through the hall godlike Telemachus was far the first to see him, and quickly 330 with a nod he called him to his side. And Eumaeus looked about him and took a stool that lay near, on which the carver used to sit when carving for the suitors the many joints of meat, as they feasted in the hall. This he took and placed at the table of Telemachus, opposite him, and there sat down himself. And a herald 335 took a portion of meat and set it before him, and bread from the basket. Close after him Odysseus entered the palace in the likeness of a woeful and aged beggar, leaning on a staff, and miserable was the clothing that he wore about his body. He sat down upon the ashen threshold within the doorway, 340 leaning against a post of cypress wood, which of old a carpenter had skilfully planed, and made straight to the line. Then Telemachus called the swineherd to him, and, taking a whole loaf from the beautiful basket, and all the meat his hands could hold in their grasp, spoke to him saying: 345 “Take, and give this food to that stranger, and tell him to go about himself and beg of the suitors one and all. Shame is no good comrade for a man that is in need.” So he spoke, and the swineherd went, when he had heard this saying, and coming up to Odysseus spoke to him winged words: 350 “Stranger, Telemachus gives you these, and tells you to go about and beg of the suitors one and all. Shame, he says, is no good thing in a beggar man.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said, “King Zeus, grant, I beg you, that Telemachus may be blessed among men, 355 and may have all that his heart desires.” He spoke, and took the food in both his hands and set it down there before his feet on his miserable wallet. Then he ate as long as the minstrel sang in the halls. But when he had dined and the divine minstrel was ceasing to sing, 360 the suitors broke into uproar throughout the halls; but Athena drew close to the side of Odysseus, son of Laertes, and roused him to go among the suitors and gather bits of bread, and learn which of them were righteous and which lawless. Yet even so she was not minded to save one of them from ruin. 365 So he set out to beg of every man, beginning on the right, stretching out his hand on every side, as though he had long been a beggar. And they pitied him and gave, and marvelled at him, asking one another who he was and where he came from. Then among them spoke Melanthius, the goatherd: 370 “Hear me, suitors of the glorious queen, regarding this stranger, for truly I have seen him before. Truly it was the swineherd that led him here, but of the man himself I do not know for sure where he declares his birth to be from.” So he spoke, and Antinous rebuked the swineherd, saying: 375 “Notorious swineherd, why, tell me, did you bring this man to the city? Do we not have vagabonds enough without him, nuisances of beggars to spoil our feast? Do you not think it enough that they gather here and devour the substance of your master, that you invite this fellow too?” 380 To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, did you make answer, and say: “Antinous, no fair words are these you speak, noble though you are. Who, tell me, of himself ever seeks out and invites a stranger from abroad, unless it is one of those that are masters of some public craft, a prophet, or a healer of ills, or a builder, 385 yes, or a divine minstrel, who gives delight with his song? For these men are invited all over the boundless earth. Yet a beggar no man would invite to be a burden to himself. But you are always harsh above all the suitors to the slaves of Odysseus, and most of all to me; yet I 390 do not care, so long as my lady, the constant Penelope, lives in the hall, and godlike Telemachus.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Be silent: do not, I ask you, answer that man with many words, for Antinous is accustomed always in an evil way to provoke to anger 395 with harsh words, yes, and urges on the others too.” With this he spoke winged words to Antinous: “Antinous, truly you care well for me, as a father for his son, seeing that you tell me to drive that stranger from the hall with a word of compulsion. May the god never bring such a thing to pass. 400 No, take and give him something: I do not begrudge it, but rather myself tell you to give. In this matter do not regard my mother, no, nor any of the slaves that are in the house of divine Odysseus. But truly far other is the thought in your breast; for you are far more eager yourself to eat than to give to another.” 405 Then Antinous answered him, and said: “Telemachus, you braggart, unrestrained in daring, what a thing you have said! If all the suitors would but hand him as much as I, for a full three months this house would keep him at a distance.” So he spoke, and seized the footstool 410 on which he used to rest his shining feet as he feasted, and showed it from beneath the table, where it lay. But all the rest gave gifts, and filled the wallet with bread and bits of meat. And now Odysseus was about to go back again to the threshold, and to make trial of the Achaeans without cost, but he paused by Antinous, and spoke to him, saying: 415 “Friend, give me some gift; you do not seem in my eyes to be the basest of the Achaeans, but rather the noblest, for you are like a king. Therefore it is fitting that you should give an even better portion of bread than the rest; so would I make your fame known all over the boundless earth. For I too once lived in a house of my own among men, 420 a rich man in a wealthy house, and very often I gave gifts to a wanderer, whoever he was and with whatever need he came. Slaves too I had past counting, and all other things in abundance by which men live well and are reputed wealthy. But Zeus, son of Cronos, brought all to nothing—so, I think, was his good pleasure— 425 who sent me out with roaming pirates to go to Egypt, a far voyage, that I might meet my ruin; and in the river Aegyptus I moored my curved ships. Then truly I ordered my trusty comrades to remain there by the ships and to guard the ships, 430 and I sent out scouts to go to places of outlook. But my comrades, yielding to wantonness and led on by their own might, at once set about wasting the fair fields of the men of Egypt; and they carried off the women and little children, and slew the men; and the cry came quickly to the city. 435 Then, hearing the shouting, the people came out at break of day, and the whole plain was filled with foot soldiers and chariots and the flashing of bronze. And Zeus, who hurls the thunderbolt, cast an evil panic upon my comrades, and none had courage to take his stand and face the foe; for evil surrounded us on every side. 440 So then they slew many of us with the sharp bronze, and others they led up to their city alive, to work for them by force. But they gave me to a friend who met them to take to Cyprus, to Dmetor, son of Iasus, who ruled mightily over Cyprus; and from there I have now come here, deeply distressed.” 445 Then Antinous answered him, and said: “What god has brought this bane here to trouble our feast? Stand off over there in the middle, away from my table, lest you soon come to a bitter Egypt and a bitter Cyprus, seeing that you are a bold and shameless beggar. 450 You come up to every man in turn, and they give recklessly; for there is no restraint or scruple in giving freely of another's goods, since each man has plenty beside him.” Then Odysseus of many wiles drew back, and said to him: “See, now, it seems that you at least do not have wits to match your beauty. 455 You would not out of your own substance give even a grain of salt to your suppliant, you who now, when sitting at another's table, did not have the heart to take of the bread and give me anything. Yet here lies plenty at your hand.” So he spoke, and Antinous grew the angrier at heart, and with an angry glance from beneath his brows spoke to him winged words: 460 “Now truly, I think, you shall no longer go out from the hall in seemly fashion, since you even utter words of reviling.” So saying, he seized the footstool and flung it, and struck Odysseus on the base of the right shoulder, where it joins the back. But he stood firm as a rock, nor did the missile of Antinous make him reel; 465 but he shook his head in silence, pondering evil in the depths of his heart. Then back to the threshold he went and sat down, and down he laid his well-filled wallet; and he spoke among the suitors: “Hear me, suitors of the glorious queen, that I may say what the heart in my breast bids me. 470 Truly there is no pain of heart nor any grief when a man is struck while fighting for his own possessions, whether for his cattle or for his white sheep; but Antinous has struck me for my wretched belly's sake, an accursed plague that brings many evils upon men. 475 Ah, if for beggars there are gods and avengers, may the doom of death come upon Antinous before his marriage.” Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him: “Sit still, and eat, stranger, or go elsewhere; lest the young men drag you 480 by hand or foot through the house for words like these, and strip off all your skin.” So he spoke, but they all were filled with exceeding indignation, and thus would one of the proud youths speak: “Antinous, you did not do well to strike the wretched wanderer. Doomed man that you are, what if perhaps he is some god come down from heaven! 485 Yes, and the gods in the guise of strangers from afar put on all manner of shapes, and visit the cities, beholding the violence and the righteousness of men.” So spoke the suitors, but Antinous paid no heed to their words. And Telemachus nursed in his heart great grief 490 for the striking, though he let no tear fall from his eyelids to the ground; but he shook his head in silence, pondering evil in the depths of his heart. But when wise Penelope heard of the man's being struck in the hall, she spoke among her handmaids, and said: “Just so may you yourself be struck by the famed archer Apollo.” 495 And then the housewife Eurynome said to her: “I wish that fulfillment might be granted to our prayers. Then not one of these men would come to the fair-throned Dawn.” And wise Penelope answered her: “Nurse, enemies are they all, for they devise evil. 500 But Antinous more than all is like black fate. Some wretched stranger roams through the house, begging alms of the men, for want compels him, and all the others filled his wallet and gave him gifts, but Antinous flung a footstool and struck him at the base of the right shoulder.” 505 So she spoke among her handmaids, sitting in her chamber, while goodly Odysseus was at his meal. Then she called to her the noble swineherd, and said: “Go, goodly Eumaeus, and tell the stranger to come here, that I may give him greeting, and ask him 510 if perhaps he has heard of Odysseus of the steadfast heart, or has seen him with his eyes. He seems like one that has wandered far.” To her, then, swineherd Eumaeus, did you make answer, and say: “I wish, O queen, that the Achaeans would keep silence, for he speaks such words as would charm your very soul. 515 Three nights I had him by me, and three days I kept him in my hut, for he came to me first when he fled by stealth from a ship, but he had not yet ended the tale of his sufferings. Just as when a man gazes upon a minstrel who sings to mortals songs of longing that the gods have taught him, 520 and their desire to hear him has no end, whenever he sings, just so he charmed me as he sat in my hall. He says that he is an ancestral friend of Odysseus, and that he lives in Crete, where the race of Minos is. From there he has now come on this journey here, always suffering woes 525 as he wanders on and on. And he insists that he has heard news of Odysseus, near at hand in the rich land of the Thesprotians and yet alive; and he is bringing many treasures to his home.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Go, call him here, that he may himself tell me to my face. 530 But as for these men, let them make sport as they sit in the doorway or here in the house, since their hearts are merry. For their own possessions lie untouched in their homes, bread and sweet wine, and on these their servants feed. But they themselves throng our house day after day, 535 slaying our oxen, and sheep, and fat goats, and keep revel and drink the flaming wine recklessly, and havoc is made of all this wealth, for there is no man here such as Odysseus was to keep ruin from the house. But if Odysseus should come and return to his native land, 540 at once would he with his son take vengeance on these men for their violent deeds.” So she spoke, and Telemachus sneezed loudly, and all the room round about echoed wondrously. And Penelope laughed, and at once spoke to Eumaeus winged words: “Go, please, call the stranger here before me. 545 Do you not notice that my son has sneezed at all my words. Therefore shall utter death fall upon the suitors one and all, nor shall one of them escape death and the fates. And another thing will I tell you, and lay it to heart. If I find that he speaks all things truly, 550 I will clothe him in a cloak and tunic, fair clothing.” So she spoke, and the swineherd went when he had heard this saying; and coming up to Odysseus he spoke to him winged words: “Good stranger, wise Penelope calls for you, the mother of Telemachus, and her heart 555 bids her make inquiry about her husband, though she has suffered many woes. And if she finds that you speak all things truly, she will clothe you in a cloak and tunic, which you need most of all. As for your food, you shall beg it through the land, and feed your belly, and whoever will shall give it to you.” 560 Then the much-enduring goodly Odysseus answered him: “Eumaeus, soon will I tell all the truth to the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope. For well do I know of Odysseus, and in common have we borne affliction. But I have fear of this throng of harsh suitors, 565 whose wantonness and violence reach the iron heaven. For even now, when, as I was going through the hall doing no evil, this man struck me and hurt me, neither Telemachus nor any other did anything to ward off the blow. So now tell Penelope 570 to wait in the halls, eager though she is, till sunset; and then let her ask me of her husband regarding the day of his return, giving me a seat nearer the fire, for see, the clothing that I wear is poor, and this you know yourself, for to you first did I make my prayer.” So he spoke, and the swineherd went when he had heard this saying. 575 And as he passed over the threshold Penelope said to him: “You do not bring him, Eumaeus. What does the wanderer mean by this? Does he fear someone beyond measure, or does he idly feel ashamed in the house? It is bad for a beggar to feel shame.” To her, then, swineherd Eumaeus, did you make answer and say: 580 “He speaks rightly, just as any other man would judge, in seeking to shun the insolence of overweening men. But he asks you to wait till sunset. And for yourself, too, it is far more seemly, O queen, to speak to the stranger alone, and to hear his words.” 585 Then wise Penelope answered him: “Not without wisdom is the stranger; he divines how it may be. There are no mortal men, I think, who in wantonness devise such wicked folly as these.” So she spoke, and the noble swineherd departed 590 into the throng of the suitors when he had told her all. And at once he spoke winged words to Telemachus, holding his head close to him that the others might not hear: “Friend, I am going out to guard the swine and all things there, your livelihood and mine; but take charge of all things here. 595 Keep your own self safe first of all, and let your mind beware lest some harm befall you, for many of the Achaeans are devising evil, whom may Zeus utterly destroy before harm falls on us.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “So shall it be, father; go your way when you have had supper. 600 And in the morning come and bring fine victims. But all matters here shall be a care to me and to the immortals.” So he spoke, and the swineherd sat down again on the polished chair. But when he had satisfied his heart with food and drink, he went his way to the swine, and left the courts and the hall 605 full of banqueters. And they were making merry with dance and song, for evening had now come on.
18Now there came up a public beggar who used to beg through the town of Ithaca, and was known for his greedy belly, eating and drinking without end. No strength had he nor might, but in bulk was big indeed to look upon. 5 Arnaeus was his name, for this name his honored mother had given him at his birth; but Irus all the young men called him, because he used to run on errands when anyone told him. He came now, and was for driving Odysseus from his own house; and he began to revile him, and spoke winged words: 10 “Give way, old man, from the doorway, lest soon you be even dragged out by the foot. Do you not see that all men are winking at me, and bidding me drag you? Yet for myself, I am ashamed to do it. No, up with you, lest our quarrel even come to blows.” Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows Odysseus of many wiles answered him: 15 “Good fellow, I do not harm you in deed or word, nor do I begrudge that any man should give you, though the portion he took up were a large one. This threshold will hold us both, and you have no need to be jealous for the goods of other folk. You seem to me to be a vagrant, even as I am; and as for happy fortune, it is the gods that are likely to give us that. 20 But with your fists do not provoke me overmuch, lest you anger me, and, old man though I am, I befoul your breast and lips with blood. So should I have the greater peace tomorrow, for I do not think that you will return a second time to the hall of Odysseus, son of Laertes.” 25 Then, growing angry, the vagrant Irus said to him: “Now see how glibly the filthy wretch talks, like an old kitchen-wife. But I will devise evil for him, striking him left and right, and will scatter on the ground all the teeth from his jaws, as though he were a swine wasting the grain. 30 Gird yourself now, that these men, too, may all know our fighting. But how could you fight with a younger man?” Thus on the polished threshold before the lofty doors they stirred one another's rage most heartily. And the strong and mighty Antinous heard the two, 35 and, breaking into a merry laugh, he spoke among the suitors: “Friends, never before has such a thing come to pass, that a god has brought sport like this to this house. That stranger and Irus are provoking one another to blows. Come, let us quickly set them on.” 40 So he spoke, and they all sprang up laughing and gathered about the tattered beggars. And Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them, and said: “Hear me, you proud suitors, that I may say something. Here at the fire are goats' paunches lying, which 45 we set there for supper, when we had filled them with fat and blood. Now whichever of the two wins and proves himself the better man, let him rise and choose for himself which one of these he will. And furthermore he shall always feast with us, nor will we allow any other beggar to join our company and beg of us.” 50 So spoke Antinous, and his word was pleasing to them. Then with crafty mind Odysseus of many wiles spoke among them: “Friends, in no way can an old man that is overcome with woe fight with a younger. Yet my belly, that worker of evil, urges me on, that I may be overcome by his blows. 55 But come now, all of you swear to me a mighty oath, to the end that no man, doing a favour to Irus, may deal me a foul blow with heavy hand, and so by violence subdue me to this fellow.” So he spoke, and they all gave the oath not to strike him, just as he asked. But when they had sworn and made an end of the oath, 60 among them spoke again the strong and mighty Telemachus: “Stranger, if your heart and your proud spirit bid you beat off this fellow, then do not fear any man of all the Achaeans, for whoever strikes you shall have to fight with more than you. Your host am I, and the princes assent to this, 65 Antinous and Eurymachus, men of prudence both.” So he spoke, and they all praised his words. But Odysseus girded his rags about his loins and showed his thighs, comely and great, and his broad shoulders came to view, and his chest and mighty arms. And Athena 70 drew near and made greater the limbs of the shepherd of the people. Then all the suitors marvelled exceedingly, and thus would one speak with a glance at his neighbor: “Very soon shall Irus, un-Irused, have a bane of his own bringing, such a thigh does that old man show from beneath his rags.” 75 So they spoke, and the mind of Irus was miserably shaken; yet even so the serving men girded him, and led him out by force all filled with dread, and his flesh trembled on his limbs. Then Antinous rebuked him and spoke, and addressed him: “Better would it be now, you braggart, that you were not living, nor had ever been born, 80 if you quail and are so terribly afraid of this fellow—a man that is old and overcome by the woe that has come upon him. But I will speak out to you, and this word shall surely be brought to pass. If this fellow conquers you and proves the better man, I will fling you into a black ship and send you to the mainland 85 to King Echetus, the maimer of all men, who will cut off your nose and ears with the pitiless bronze, and will draw forth your vitals and give them raw to dogs to rend.” So he spoke, and at this yet greater trembling seized the other's limbs, and they led him into the ring and both men put up their hands. 90 Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus was divided in mind whether he should strike him so that life should leave him even there as he fell, or whether he should deal him a light blow and stretch him on the earth. And, as he pondered, this seemed to him the better course, to deal him a light blow, that the Achaeans might not take note of him. 95 Then indeed, when they had put up their hands, Irus let drive at the right shoulder, but Odysseus struck him on the neck beneath the ear and crushed in the bones, and immediately the red blood ran forth from his mouth, and down he fell in the dust with a moan, and he gnashed his teeth, kicking the ground with his feet. But the lordly suitors 100 raised their hands, and were ready to die with laughter. Then Odysseus seized him by the foot, and dragged him forth through the doorway until he came to the court and the gates of the portico. And he set him down and leaned him against the wall of the court, and thrust his staff into his hand and spoke, and addressed him with winged words: 105 “Sit there now, and scare off swine and dogs, and do not be lord of strangers and beggars, miserable as you are, lest perhaps you meet with some worse thing to profit by.” He spoke, and flung about his shoulders his miserable bag, full of holes, and slung by a twisted cord. 110 Then back to the threshold he went and sat down; and the suitors went inside, laughing merrily, and they greeted him, saying: “May Zeus grant you, stranger, and the other immortal gods what you desire most, and the dearest wish of your heart, seeing that you have made this insatiable fellow cease from begging 115 in the land. For soon shall we take him to the mainland to King Echetus, the maimer of all men.” So they spoke, and goodly Odysseus was glad at the word of omen. And Antinous set before him the great paunch, filled with fat and blood, and Amphinomus 120 took up two loaves from the basket and set them before him, and pledged him in a cup of gold, and said: “Hail, sir stranger; may happy fortune be yours in time to come, though now you are the slave of many sorrows.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: 125 “Amphinomus, truly you seem to me to be a man of prudence; and such a man, too, was your father, for I have heard of his fair fame, that Nisus of Dulichium was a brave man and a wealthy. From him, they say, you are sprung, and you seem a man soft of speech. So I will tell you, and give heed and listen. 130 Nothing feebler does earth nurture than man, of all things that on earth are breathing and moving. For he thinks that he will never suffer evil in time to come, so long as the gods give him prosperity and his knees are quick; but when again the blessed gods decree him sorrow, 135 this too he bears in deep resentment with steadfast heart; for the spirit of men upon the earth is just such as the day which the father of gods and men brings upon them. For I, too, was once likely to be prosperous among men, but many deeds of wantonness I committed, yielding to my might and my strength, 140 and trusting in my father and my brothers. So let no man whatever be lawless at any time, but let him keep in silence whatever gifts the gods give. Yes, for I see the suitors devising wantonness, wasting the wealth and dishonoring the wife 145 of a man who, I tell you, will not long be away from his friends and his native land; no, he is very near. But may some god lead you away from here to your home, and may you not meet him when he comes home to his dear native land. For not without bloodshed, I think, 150 will the suitors and he part one from the other when once he comes beneath his roof.” So he spoke, and pouring a libation, drank of the honey-sweet wine, and then gave back the cup into the hands of the marshaller of the people. But Amphinomus went through the hall with a heavy heart, bowing his head; for his spirit foreboded ruin. 155 Yet even so he did not escape his fate, but him, too, did Athena set in bonds so that he might be slain outright at the hands of Telemachus and by his spear. So he sat down again on the chair from which he had risen. Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, put it in the heart of the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, 160 to show herself to the suitors, that she might set their hearts aflutter and win greater honor from her husband and her son than before. Then she laughed a meaningless laugh and spoke, and addressed the nurse: “Eurynome, my heart longs, though it has never longed before, 165 to show myself to the suitors, hateful though they are. Also I would say a word to my son that will be for his profit, namely, that he should never consort with the overweening suitors, who speak fairly to him but have evil plans afterward.” Then the housekeeper, Eurynome, spoke to her and said: 170 “Yes, indeed, child, all this you have spoken rightly. Go, then, reveal your word to your son and do not hide it; but first wash your body and anoint your face, and do not go as you are with both cheeks stained with tears. Go, for it is bad to grieve forever without ceasing. 175 For now, behold, your son is of such an age, and it has been your dearest prayer to the immortals to see him a bearded man.” Then wise Penelope answered her again: “Eurynome, do not beguile me thus in your love to wash my body and anoint me with oil. 180 All beauty of mine have the gods, that hold Olympus, destroyed since the day when my lord departed in the hollow ships. But bid Autonoe and Hippodameia come to me, that they may stand by my side in the hall. Alone I will not go among men, for I am ashamed.” 185 So she spoke, and the old woman went out through the chamber to bear news to the women, and tell them to come. Then again the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, took other counsel. On the daughter of Icarius she shed sweet sleep, and she leaned back and slept 190 there on her couch, and all her joints were relaxed. And meanwhile the fair goddess was giving her immortal gifts, that the Achaeans might marvel at her. With balm she first made fair her beautiful face, with balm ambrosial, such as that with which Cytherea, of the fair crown, anoints herself when she goes into the lovely dance of the Graces; 195 and she made her taller, too, and statelier to behold, and made her whiter than new-sawn ivory. Now when she had done this the fair goddess departed, and the white-armed handmaids came forth from the chamber and drew near with sound of talking. Then sweet sleep released Penelope, 200 and she rubbed her cheeks with her hands, and said: “Ah, in my utter wretchedness soft slumber enfolded me. Would that pure Artemis would even now give so soft a death, that I might no more waste my life away with sorrow at heart, longing for 205 the manifold excellence of my dear husband, because he was pre-eminent among the Achaeans.” So saying, she went down from the bright upper chamber, not alone, for two handmaids attended her. Now when the fair lady reached the suitors she stood by the doorpost of the well-built hall, 210 holding before her face her shining veil; and a faithful handmaid stood on either side of her. Immediately then the knees of the suitors were loosened and their hearts enchanted with love, and they all prayed, each that he might lie by her side. But she spoke to Telemachus, her dear son: 215 “Telemachus, your mind and your thoughts are no longer steadfast as before. When you were only a child you used to revolve in your mind thoughts more cunning; but now that you are grown and have reached the bounds of manhood, and would be called a rich man's son by one who looked only to your stature and your comeliness, being himself a stranger from afar, 220 your mind and your thoughts are no longer right as before. What a thing is this that has been done in these halls, that you have allowed that stranger to be so maltreated! What now, if the stranger, while sitting thus in our house, should come to some harm through grievous mishandling? 225 On you, then, would fall shame and disgrace among men.” Then wise Telemachus answered her: “My mother, in this matter I do not take it ill that you are filled with anger. Yet of myself I know in my heart and understand each thing, the good and the evil, whereas before I was only a child. 230 But I am not able to plan all things wisely, for these men here thwart my will, keeping by me, one on this side and one on that, with evil purpose, and I have none to help me. Yet I can tell you, this battle between the stranger and Irus did not fall out according to the mind of the suitors, but the stranger proved the better man. 235 I would, O father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo, that even now the suitors were thus subdued in our halls, and were hanging their heads, some in the court and some within the hall, and that each man's limbs were loosened, even as Irus now sits over there by the gate of the court, 240 hanging his head like a drunken man, and cannot stand erect upon his feet, or go home to whatever place he usually goes, because his limbs are loosened.” Thus they spoke to one another. But Eurymachus addressed Penelope, and said: 245 “Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, if all the Achaeans throughout Iasian Argos could see you, even more suitors would be feasting in your halls from tomorrow on, for you excel all women in comeliness and stature, and in the wise heart within you.” 250 Then wise Penelope answered him: “Eurymachus, all excellence of mine, both of beauty and of form, the immortals destroyed on the day when the Argives embarked for Ilios, and with them went my husband Odysseus. If he might but come and watch over this life of mine, 255 greater would be my fame and fairer. But now I am in sorrow, so many woes has some god brought upon me. Indeed, when he went forth and left his native land, he clasped my right hand by the wrist, and said: “‘Wife, I do not think that the well-greaved Achaeans 260 will all return from Troy safe and unscathed, for the Trojans, men say, are men of war, hurlers of the spear, and drawers of the bow, and drivers of swift horses, such as most quickly decide the great strife of equal war. 265 Therefore I do not know whether the god will bring me back, or whether I shall be cut off there in the land of Troy: so take charge of all things here. Be mindful of my father and my mother in the halls even as you are now, or yet more, while I am far away. But when you see my son a bearded man, 270 wed whom you will, and leave your house.’ “So he spoke, and now all this is being brought to pass. The night shall come when a hateful marriage shall fall to the lot of me accursed, whose happiness Zeus has taken away. But in this has bitter grief come upon my heart and soul, 275 for such as yours was never the way of suitors before. Those who wish to woo a lady of worth and the daughter of a rich man and vie with one another, these bring of themselves cattle and fine flocks, a banquet for the friends of the bride, and give to her glorious gifts; 280 but they do not devour the livelihood of another without atonement.” So she spoke, and the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus was glad, because she drew from them gifts, and beguiled their souls with gentle words, but her mind was set on other things. Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke to her again, and said: 285 “Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, as for gifts, if any man of the Achaeans is minded to bring them here, take them; for it is not well to refuse a gift. But for us, we will go neither to our lands nor elsewhere, until you wed whoever is best of the Achaeans.” 290 So spoke Antinous, and his word was pleasing to them, and each man sent forth a herald to bring his gifts. For Antinous he brought a large and beautiful robe, richly embroidered, and in it were golden brooches, twelve in all, fitted with curved clasps. 295 And a chain another at once brought to Eurymachus, one cunningly wrought of gold, strung with amber beads, bright as the sun. A pair of earrings his squires brought to Eurydamas, with three clustering drops, and great grace shone from them. And out of the house of lord Peisander, son of Polyctor, 300 his squire brought a necklace, a jewel exceedingly fair. So of the Achaeans one brought one fair gift and one another. But she after this, the fair lady, went up to her upper chamber, and her handmaids bore for her the beautiful gifts. But the suitors 305 turned to dance and gladsome song, and made merry, and waited for evening to come on. And as they made merry dark evening came upon them. Soon they set up three braziers in the hall to give them light, and round about them placed dry firewood, long since seasoned and hard, and newly split with the axe; 310 and in the spaces between they set torches; and in turn the handmaids of Odysseus, of the steadfast heart, kindled the flame. Then Zeus-born Odysseus, of many wiles, himself spoke among the maids, and said: “Maidens of Odysseus, who has long been gone, go to the chambers where your honored queen stays, 315 and twist the yarn by her side, and make glad her heart, as you sit in the chamber, or card the wool with your hands; but I will give light to all these men. For if they wish to wait for fair-throned Dawn, they shall in no way outdo me. I am one that can endure much.” 320 So he spoke, and the maids broke into a laugh, and glanced at one another. And fair-cheeked Melantho rebuked him shamefully, Melantho, whom Dolius begot, but whom Penelope had reared and cherished as her own child, and gave her playthings to her heart's desire. Yet even so she had at heart no sorrow for Penelope, 325 but she loved Eurymachus and used to lie with him. She then rebuked Odysseus with reviling words: “Wretched stranger, you are only a crack-brained fellow, unwilling to go to a smithy to sleep, or to a common lodge, but chatter here continually, 330 unabashed in the company of many lords, and have no fear at heart. Surely wine has mastered your wits, or else your mind is always like this, that you babble idly. Are you beside yourself because you have beaten that vagrant Irus? Beware, lest soon another better than Irus rise up against you 335 to beat you about the head with heavy hands, and befoul you with streams of blood, and send you out of the house.” Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “At once I shall go over there, you shameless thing, and tell Telemachus, since you speak like this, that on the spot he may cut you limb from limb.” 340 So he spoke, and with his words scattered the women, who fled through the hall, and the limbs of each were loosened beneath her in terror, for they thought that he spoke truth. But Odysseus took his stand by the burning braziers to give light, and looked upon all the men. 345 Yet other things was the heart within him pondering—things that were not to be unfulfilled. But Athena would in no way allow the proud suitors to abstain from bitter outrage, that pain might sink yet deeper into the heart of Odysseus, son of Laertes. So among them Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak, 350 jeering at Odysseus, and making mirth for his companions: “Hear me, suitors of the glorious queen, that I may say what the heart in my breast bids me. Not without the will of the gods has this man come to the palace of Odysseus; in any case there is a glare of torches from him— 355 from his head, for there is no hair on it, no, not a trace.” With that he called to Odysseus, sacker of cities: “Stranger, would you have a mind to serve for hire, if I should take you into service on an outlying farm—your pay shall be assured you—gathering stones for walls, and planting tall trees? 360 There would I provide you with food the year through, and clothe you with garments and give you sandals for your feet. But since you have learned only deeds of evil, you will not care to busy yourself with work, but are minded rather to go skulking through the land, that you may have the means to feed your insatiable belly.” 365 Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Eurymachus, I would that we two might have a match in working in the season of spring, when the long days come, at mowing the grass, I with a curved scythe in my hands and you with another like it, 370 and that the grass might be in plenty that so we might test our work, fasting till late evening. Or I would again that there were oxen to drive—the best there are, tawny and large, both well fed with grass, of like age and like power to bear the yoke, tireless in strength—and that there were a field of four acres, and the soil should yield before the plough: 375 then you should see me, whether or not I could cut a straight furrow to the end. Or I would again that this day the son of Cronos might bring war upon us from wherever he would, and I had a shield and two spears and a helmet all of bronze, that fitted well my temples: then you should see me mingling amid the foremost fighters, 380 and would not chatter, taunting me with this belly of mine. But very insolent are you, and your heart is cruel, and no doubt you think yourself to be some great man and mighty, because you consort with few men and weak. If but Odysseus might return, and come to his native land, 385 soon would those doors, very wide though they are, prove all too narrow for you in your flight out through the doorway.” So he spoke, and Eurymachus grew the more angry at heart, and with an angry glance from beneath his brows spoke to him winged words: “Wretch, soon will I work you evil, that you chatter thus, 390 unabashed in the presence of many lords, and have no fear at heart. Surely wine has mastered your wits, or else your mind is always like this, that you babble idly. Are you beside yourself because you have beaten that vagrant Irus?” So saying, he seized a footstool, but Odysseus 395 sat down at the knees of Amphinomus of Dulichium, in fear of Eurymachus. And so Eurymachus struck a cup-bearer on the right hand, and the wine-jug fell to the ground with a clang, and the bearer groaned, and fell backwards in the dust. Then the suitors broke into uproar throughout the shadowy halls, 400 and thus would one man speak with a glance at his neighbor: “Would that the stranger there had perished elsewhere on his wanderings before ever he came here; then he would never have brought among us all this tumult. But now we are brawling about beggars, nor shall there be any joy in our rich feast, since worse things prevail.” 405 Then among them spoke the strong and mighty Telemachus: “Strange sirs, you are mad, and no longer hide that you have eaten and drunk; some god surely is moving you. No, now that you have well feasted, go to your homes and take your rest, when your spirits bid you. Yet I drive no man out.” 410 So he spoke, and they all bit their lips, and marvelled at Telemachus, that he spoke boldly. But Amphinomus spoke, and addressed them—he was son of the noble prince Nisus, son of Aretias: “Friends, no man in answer to what has been fairly spoken 415 would grow angry and make reply with wrangling words. Do not abuse any more this stranger nor any one of the slaves that are in the house of divine Odysseus. No, come, let the bearer pour drops for libation in the cups, that we may pour libations, and go home to take our rest. As for this stranger, 420 let us leave him in the halls of Odysseus to be cared for by Telemachus; for to his house has he come.” So said he, and the words that he spoke were pleasing to all. Then a bowl was mixed for them by the lord Mulius, a herald from Dulichium, who was squire to Amphinomus. 425 And he served out to all, coming up to each in turn; and they made libations to the blessed gods, and drank the honey-sweet wine. Then when they had made libations and had drunk to their heart's content, they went their way, each man to his own house, to take their rest.
19So goodly Odysseus was left behind in the hall, planning with Athena's aid the slaying of the suitors, and he at once spoke winged words to Telemachus: “Telemachus, the weapons of war you must lay away within 5 one and all, and when the suitors miss them and question you, you must beguile them with gentle words, saying: ‘Out of the smoke I have laid them, since they are no longer like those which Odysseus left behind him in the old days, when he went forth to Troy, but are all befouled, so far as the breath of fire has reached them. 10 And furthermore this greater fear has a god put in my heart, lest perhaps, when heated with wine, you may set a quarrel afoot among you, and wound one another, and so bring shame on your feast and on your wooing. For of itself the iron draws a man to it.’” So he spoke, and Telemachus listened to his dear father, 15 and calling forth the nurse Eurycleia, said to her: “Nurse, come now, I bid you, shut up the women in their rooms, while I lay away in the store-room the weapons of my father, the fine weapons which all uncared-for the smoke dims in the hall since my father went forth, and I was still a child. 20 But now I am minded to lay them away, where the breath of the fire will not come upon them.” Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered him: “Yes, child, I wish you would always take thought to care for the house and guard all its wealth. But come, who then shall fetch a light and bear it for you, 25 since you would not allow the maids, who might have given light, to go before you?” Then wise Telemachus answered her; “This stranger here; for I will allow no man to be idle who touches my portion of meal, even though he has come from afar.” So he spoke, but her word remained unwinged, and she locked the doors of the stately hall. 30 Then the two sprang up, Odysseus and his glorious son, and set about bearing inside the helmets and the bossed shields and the sharp-pointed spears; and before them Pallas Athena, bearing a golden lamp, made a most beautiful light. 35 Then Telemachus suddenly spoke to his father, and said: “Father, truly this is a great marvel that my eyes behold; certainly the walls of the house and the fair beams and cross-beams of fir and the pillars that reach on high, glow in my eyes as with the light of blazing fire. 40 Surely some god is within, one of those who hold broad heaven.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Hush, check your thought, and ask no question; this, I tell you, is the way of the gods that hold Olympus. But go and take your rest and I will remain behind here, 45 that I may stir yet more the minds of the maids and of your mother; and she with weeping shall ask me about each thing separately.” So he spoke, and Telemachus went forth through the hall by the light of blazing torches to go to his chamber to lie down, where he had until then been accustomed to rest, when sweet sleep came upon him. 50 There now too he lay down and waited for the bright Dawn. But goodly Odysseus was left behind in the hall, planning with Athena's aid the slaying of the suitors. Then wise Penelope came forth from her chamber like Artemis or golden Aphrodite, 55 and for her they set by the fire, where she used to sit, a chair inlaid with spirals of ivory and silver, which in the old days the craftsman Icmalius had made, and had set beneath it a foot-stool for the feet, that was part of the chair, and upon it a great fleece used to be laid. On this then wise Penelope sat down, 60 and the white-armed maids came forth from the women's hall. These began to take away the abundant food, the tables, and the cups from which the lordly men had been drinking, and they cast the embers from the braziers on to the floor, and piled upon the braziers fresh logs in abundance, to give light and warmth. 65 But Melantho began again a second time to scold Odysseus, saying: “Stranger, will you even now still be a plague to us through the night, roaming through the house, and will you spy upon the women? No, get out, you wretch, and be content with your supper, or at once you shall even be struck with a torch, and so go out.” 70 Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “Good woman, why, pray, do you thus assail me with angry heart? Is it because I am foul and wear mean clothing on my body, and beg through the land? Yes, for necessity compels me. Of such sort are beggars and vagabond folk. 75 For I too once dwelt in a house of my own among men, a rich man in a wealthy house, and very often I gave gifts to a wanderer, whoever he was and with whatever need he came. Slaves too I had past counting and all other things in abundance by which men live well and are reputed wealthy. 80 But Zeus, son of Cronos, brought all to nothing; so, I suppose, was his good pleasure. Therefore, woman, beware lest you too some day lose all the glory by which you now have excellence among the handmaids; lest perhaps your mistress grow furious and be angry with you, or Odysseus come home; for there is yet room for hope. 85 But if, even as it seems, he is dead, and is no more to return, yet now his son by the favour of Apollo is such as he was—even Telemachus. Him it does not escape if any of the women in the halls commit wantonness; for he is no longer the child he was.” So he spoke, and wise Penelope heard him; 90 and she rebuked the handmaid and spoke, and addressed her: “Be sure, you bold and shameless thing, that your outrageous deed is in no way hidden from me, and with your own head you shall wipe out its stain. Very well did you know, for you have heard it from my own lips, that I was minded 95 to question the stranger in my halls concerning my husband; for I am deeply distressed.” With this she spoke also to the housekeeper Eurynome, and said: “Eurynome, bring here a chair and a fleece upon it, that the stranger may sit down and tell his tale, and listen to me; for I wish to ask him about all things.” 100 So she spoke, and Eurynome quickly brought a polished chair and set it in place, and on it cast a fleece. Then the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus sat down upon it, and the wise Penelope spoke first, and said: “Stranger, this question I will myself ask you first. 105 Who are you among men, and from where? Where is your city, and where your parents?” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Lady, no one of mortals upon the boundless earth could find fault with you, for your fame goes up to the broad heaven, as does the fame of some blameless king, who with the fear of the gods in his heart, 110 is lord over many mighty men, upholding justice; and the black earth bears wheat and barley, and the trees are laden with fruit, the flocks bring forth young unceasingly, and the sea yields fish, all from his good leading; and the people prosper under him. 115 Therefore question me now in your house about all other things, but do not ask about my race and my native land, lest you fill my heart the more with pains, as I think of it; for I am a man of many sorrows. Moreover it is not fitting 120 that I should sit weeping and wailing in another's house, for it is ill to grieve always without ceasing. I would not have one of your maidens or your own self be vexed with me, and say that I swim in tears because my mind is heavy with wine.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Stranger, all excellence of mine, both of beauty and of form, 125 the immortals destroyed on the day when the Argives embarked for Ilios, and with them went my husband, Odysseus. If he might but come, and watch over this life of mine, greater would be my fame and fairer. But now I am in sorrow, so many woes has some god brought upon me. 130 For all the princes who hold sway over the islands—Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus—and those who dwell around in clear-seen Ithaca itself, all these woo me against my will, and lay waste my house. Therefore I pay no heed to strangers or to suppliants 135 or in any way to heralds, whose trade is a public one; but in longing for Odysseus I waste my heart away. So these men urge on my marriage, and I wind a skein of wiles. First some god breathed the thought in my heart to set up a great web in my halls and fall to weaving a robe— 140 fine of thread was the web and very wide; and I at once spoke among them: “‘Young men, my suitors, since goodly Odysseus is dead, be patient, though eager for my marriage, until I finish this robe—I would not have my spinning come to nothing—a shroud for the lord Laertes against the time when 145 the fell fate of grievous death shall strike him down; lest any one of the Achaean women in the land should be angry with me, if he were to lie without a shroud, who had won great possessions.’ “So I spoke, and their proud hearts consented. Then day by day I would weave at the great web, 150 but by night would unravel it, when I had had torches placed by me. Thus for three years I kept the Achaeans from knowing, and beguiled them; but when the fourth year came, as the seasons rolled on, as the months waned, and the many days were brought in their course, then indeed by the help of my maidens, shameless creatures and reckless, 155 they came upon me and caught me, and upbraided me loudly. So I finished the web against my will, under compulsion. And now I can neither escape the marriage nor devise any further counsel, and my parents are pressing me to marry, and my son frets, while these men devour his livelihood, 160 as he takes note of it all; for by now he is a man, and fully able to care for a household to which Zeus grants honor. Yet even so tell me of your stock, where you come from; for you are not sprung from an oak of ancient story, or from a stone.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: 165 “Honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, will you never cease to ask me about my lineage? Well, I will tell you; though truly you will give me over to pains yet more than those by which I am now held in thrall; for so it always is, when a man has been far from his country as long as I have now, 170 wandering through the many cities of men in great distress. Yet even so I will tell you what you ask and inquire. There is a land called Crete, in the midst of the wine-dark sea, a fair, rich land, surrounded by water, and in it are many men, past counting, and ninety cities. 175 They do not all have the same speech, but their tongues are mixed. There dwell Achaeans, there great-hearted native Cretans, there Cydonians, and Dorians of waving plumes, and goodly Pelasgians. Among their cities is the great city Cnosus, where Minos reigned when nine years old, he who conversed with great Zeus, 180 and was father of my father, great-hearted Deucalion. Now Deucalion fathered me and prince Idomeneus. Idomeneus had gone forth in his beaked ships to Ilios with the sons of Atreus; but my famous name is Aethon; I was the younger by birth, while he was the elder and the better man. 185 There it was that I saw Odysseus and gave him gifts of entertainment; for the force of the wind had brought him too to Crete, as he was making for the land of Troy, and drove him out of his course past Malea. So he anchored his ships at Amnisus, where the cave of Eilithyia is, in a difficult harbor, and hardly did he escape the storm. 190 Then at once he went up to the city and asked for Idomeneus; for he declared that he was his friend, beloved and honored. But it was now the tenth or the eleventh dawn since Idomeneus had gone in his beaked ships to Ilios. So I took him to the house, and gave him entertainment 195 with kindly welcome of the rich store that was in the house, and to the rest of his comrades who followed with him I gathered and gave out of the public store barley meal and flaming wine and bulls for sacrifice, that their hearts might be satisfied. There for twelve days the goodly Achaeans stayed, 200 for the strong North Wind penned them there, and would not allow them to stand upon their feet on the land, for some angry god had roused it. But on the thirteenth day the wind fell and they put to sea.” He spoke, and made the many falsehoods of his tale seem like the truth, and as she listened her tears flowed and her face melted 205 as the snow melts on the lofty mountains, the snow which the East Wind thaws when the West Wind has strewn it, and as it melts the streams of the rivers flow full: so her fair cheeks melted as she wept and mourned for her husband, who even then was sitting by her side. And Odysseus 210 in his heart had pity for his weeping wife, but his eyes stood fixed between his lids as though they were horn or iron, and with guile he hid his tears. But she, when she had had her fill of tearful wailing, again answered him and spoke, saying: 215 “Now truly, stranger, I am minded to put you to the test, whether or not you did in very truth entertain there in your halls my husband with his godlike comrades, even as you say. Tell me what kind of clothing he wore about his body, and what kind of man he was himself; and tell me of the comrades who followed him.” 220 Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Lady, hard it is for one that has been so long away to tell you this, for it is now the twentieth year since he went from there and departed from my country. But I will tell you as my mind pictures him. 225 A fleecy cloak of purple goodly Odysseus wore, a cloak of double fold, but the brooch upon it was fashioned of gold with double clasps, and on the front it was skillfully wrought: a hound held in his fore paws a dappled fawn, and pinned it in his jaws as it writhed. And at this all men marvelled, 230 how, though they were of gold, the hound was pinning the fawn and strangling it, and the fawn was writhing with its feet and striving to flee. And I noted the tunic about his body, all shining as is the sheen upon the skin of a dried onion, so soft it was; and it glistened like the sun. 235 Truly many women gazed at him in wonder. And another thing I will tell you, and lay it to heart. I do not know whether Odysseus was thus clothed at home, or whether one of his comrades gave him the clothing when he went on board the swift ship, or perhaps even some stranger, since to many men 240 was Odysseus dear, for few of the Achaeans were his peers. I, too, gave him a sword of bronze, and a fair purple cloak of double fold, and a fringed tunic, and with all honor sent him forth on his benched ship. Furthermore, a herald 245 attended him, a little older than he, and I will tell you of him too, what kind of man he was. He was round-shouldered, dark of skin, and curly-haired, and his name was Eurybates; and Odysseus honored him above his other comrades, because he was like-minded with himself.” So he spoke, and in her heart aroused yet more the desire of weeping, 250 as she recognized the sure tokens that Odysseus told her. But she, when she had had her fill of tearful wailing, made answer and said to him: “Now truly, stranger, though before you were pitied, you shall be dear and honored in my halls, 255 for it was I that gave him this clothing, since you describe it so, and folded it, and brought it forth from the store-room, and added to it the shining brooch to be a thing of joy to him. But my husband I shall never welcome back, returning home to his dear native land. So it was with an evil fate that Odysseus 260 went forth in the hollow ship to see evil Ilios, that should never be named.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, do not mar your fair face any more now, nor waste your heart at all in weeping for your husband. I count it indeed no blame in you; 265 for any woman weeps when she has lost her wedded husband, to whom she has borne children in her love, though he were far other than Odysseus, who, they say, is like the gods. Yet cease from weeping, and listen to my words; for I will tell you with sure truth, and will hide nothing, 270 how but lately I heard of the return of Odysseus, that he is near at hand in the rich land of the Thesprotians, and yet alive, and he is bringing with him many rich treasures, as he begs through the land. But he lost his trusty comrades and his hollow ship on the wine-dark sea, 275 as he journeyed from the isle Thrinacia; for Zeus and Helios grew angry with him because his comrades had slain the cattle of Helios. So they all perished in the surging sea, but he on the keel of his ship was cast forth by the wave on the shore, on the land of the Phaeacians, who are near of kin to the gods. 280 These heartily showed him all honor, as if he were a god, and gave him many gifts, and were eager themselves to send him home unscathed. Yes, and Odysseus would long since have been here, only it seemed to his mind more profitable to gather wealth by roaming over the wide earth; 285 so truly does Odysseus beyond all mortal men know many gainful ways, nor could any mortal besides vie with him. Thus Pheidon, king of the Thesprotians, told me the tale. Moreover he swore in my own presence, as he poured libations in his halls, that the ship was launched and the men ready 290 who were to convey him to his dear native land. But me he sent forth first, for a ship of the Thesprotians chanced to be setting out for Dulichium, rich in wheat. And he showed me all the treasure that Odysseus had gathered; truly to the tenth generation would it feed his children after him, 295 so great was the wealth that lay stored for him in the halls of the king. But Odysseus, he said, had gone to Dodona to hear the will of Zeus from the high-crested oak of the god, even how he might return to his dear native land after so long an absence, whether openly or in secret. 300 “Thus, as I tell you, he is safe, and will soon come; he is very near, and not long will he now be far from his friends and his native land. Yet I will give you an oath. Let Zeus be my witness first, highest and best of gods, and the hearth of noble Odysseus to which I have come, 305 that truly all these things shall be brought to pass even as I tell you. In the course of this very month Odysseus shall come here, as the old moon wanes and the new appears.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Ah, stranger, I wish that this word of yours might be fulfilled. 310 Then you should at once know of kindness and many a gift from me, so that one who met you would call you blessed. Yet in my heart I forebode it thus, even as it shall be. Neither shall Odysseus any more come home, nor shall you obtain a convoy from here, since there are not now in the house such masters 315 as Odysseus was among men—as sure as ever such a man there was—to send reverend strangers on their way, and to welcome them. But still, my maidens, wash the stranger's feet and prepare his bed—bedstead and cloaks and bright coverlets—that in warmth and comfort he may come to the golden-throned Dawn. 320 And very early in the morning bathe him and anoint him, that in our house at the side of Telemachus he may turn his thoughts to food as he sits in the hall. And worse shall it be for any man among them who vexes this man's soul with pain; nothing thereafter shall he accomplish here, however fierce his wrath. 325 For how shall you learn from me, stranger, whether I in any way excel other women in wit and prudent counsel, if all unkempt and clad in poor clothing you sit at table in my halls? Men are but short-lived. If one is himself hard, and has a hard heart, 330 on him all mortal men invoke woes for the time to come, while he still lives, and when he is dead all men mock at him. But if one is blameless and has a blameless heart, his fame strangers bear far and wide among all men, and many call him a true man.” 335 Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, truly cloaks and bright coverlets became hateful in my eyes on the day when first I left behind me the snowy mountains of Crete, as I voyaged on my long-oared ship. 340 No, I will lie, as in time past I used to rest through sleepless nights; for many a night have I lain upon a foul bed and waited for the bright-throned Dawn. Yes, and baths for the feet give my heart no pleasure, nor shall any woman touch my foot 345 of all those who are serving-women in your hall, unless there is some old, true-hearted woman who has suffered in her heart as many woes as I; such a one I would not grudge to touch my feet.” Then wise Penelope answered him again: 350 “Dear stranger, never yet has a man as discreet as you, of those who are strangers from afar, come to my house as a more welcome guest, so wise and prudent are all your words. I have an old woman with a heart of understanding in her breast, who lovingly nursed and cherished my hapless husband, 355 and took him in her arms on the day when his mother bore him. She shall wash your feet, weak with age though she is. Come now, wise Eurycleia, rise and wash the feet of one of like age with your master. Even such as his are now perhaps the feet of Odysseus, and such his hands, 360 for quickly do men grow old in evil fortune.” So she spoke, and the old woman hid her face in her hands and let fall hot tears, uttering words of lamentation: “Ah, woe is me, child, because of you, since I can do nothing. Surely Zeus hated you above all men, though you had a god-fearing heart. 365 For never yet did any mortal burn to Zeus, who hurls the thunderbolt, so many fat thigh-pieces or so many choice hecatombs as you gave him, with prayers that you might reach a sleek old age and rear your glorious son. But see, now, from you alone he has wholly cut off the day of your returning. 370 Even so, I suppose, did women mock at him too, in a strange and distant land, when he came to some man's glorious house, as these shameless creatures here all mock at you. It is to shun insult now from them and their many taunts that you do not allow them to wash your feet, but me, who am not at all unwilling, has 375 the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, asked to wash you. Therefore I will wash your feet, both for Penelope's own sake and for yours, for the heart within me is stirred with sorrow. But come now, listen to the word that I shall speak. Many sorely tried strangers have come here, 380 but I declare that never yet have I seen any man so like another as you in form, and in voice, and in feet are like Odysseus.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Old woman, so say all men whose eyes have beheld us two, that 385 we are very like each other, even as you yourself note and say.” So he spoke, and the old woman took the shining cauldron with water from which she was about to wash his feet, and poured in cold water in plenty, and then added to it the warm. But Odysseus sat down away from the hearth and at once turned himself toward the darkness, 390 for he at once had a foreboding at heart that, as she touched him, she might note a scar, and the truth be made manifest. So she drew near and began to wash her lord, and at once knew the scar of the wound which long ago a boar had dealt him with his white tusk, when Odysseus had gone to Parnassus to visit Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus, 395 his mother's noble father, who excelled all men in thievery and in oaths. It was a god himself that had given him this skill, even Hermes, for to him he used to burn acceptable sacrifices of the thighs of lambs and kids; so Hermes befriended him with a ready heart. Now Autolycus, on coming once to the rich land of Ithaca, 400 had found his daughter's son a babe new-born, and when he was finishing his supper, Eurycleia laid the child upon his knees and spoke, and addressed him: “Autolycus, now find yourself a name to give to your child's own child; be sure he has long been prayed for.” 405 Then Autolycus answered her, and said: “My daughter's husband and my daughter, give him whatever name I say. Inasmuch as I have come here as one that has been angered with many, both men and women, over the fruitful earth, therefore let the name by which the child is named be Odysseus. And for my part, 410 when he is a grown man and comes to the great house of his mother's kin at Parnassus, where my possessions are, I will give him some of them and send him back rejoicing.” It was for this reason that Odysseus had come, that Autolycus might give him the glorious gifts. And Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus 415 clasped his hands in welcome and greeted him with gentle words, and Amphithea, his mother's mother, took Odysseus in her arms and kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes. But Autolycus called to his glorious sons to make ready the meal, and they heeded his call. 420 At once they led in a bull, five years old, which they flayed and dressed, and cut up all the limbs. Then they sliced these cunningly and pierced them with spits, and roasted them skilfully and distributed the portions. So, then, all day long till set of sun 425 they feasted, nor did their hearts lack anything of the equal feast. But when the sun set and darkness came on they lay down to rest and took the gift of sleep. But as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, they went forth to the hunt, the hounds and 430 the sons of Autolycus too, and with them went goodly Odysseus. Up the steep mountain Parnassus, clothed with forests, they climbed, and soon reached its windy hollows. The sun was now just striking on the fields, as he rose from softly-gliding, deep-flowing Oceanus, 435 when the beaters came to a glade. Before them went the hounds, tracking the scent, and behind them the sons of Autolycus, and among these the goodly Odysseus followed, close upon the hounds, brandishing his long spear. Now nearby a great wild boar was lying in a thick lair, 440 through which the strength of the wet winds could never blow nor the rays of the bright sun beat, nor could the rain pierce through it, so thick it was; and fallen leaves were there in plenty. Then about the boar there came the noise of the feet of men and dogs 445 as they pressed on in the chase, and forth from his lair he came against them with bristling back and eyes flashing fire, and stood there at bay close before them. Then first of all Odysseus rushed on, holding his long spear on high in his stout hand, eager to strike him; but the boar was too quick for him and struck him 450 above the knee, charging upon him sideways, and with his tusk tore a long gash in the flesh, but did not reach the bone of the man. But Odysseus with sure aim hit him on the right shoulder, and clear through went the point of the bright spear, and the boar fell in the dust with a cry, and his life flew from him. 455 Then the dear sons of Autolycus busied themselves with the carcass, and the wound of noble, god-like Odysseus they bound up skilfully, and checked the black blood with a charm, and at once returned to the house of their dear father. And when Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus 460 had fully healed him, and had given him glorious gifts, they quickly sent him back with joy to his native land, to Ithaca. Then his father and his honored mother rejoiced at his return, and asked him all the story, how he got his wound; and he told them all the truth, 465 how, while he was hunting, a boar had struck him with his white tusk when he had gone to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus. This scar the old woman, when she had taken the limb in the flat of her hands, knew by the touch, and she let fall the foot. Into the basin the leg fell, and the brazen vessel rang. 470 Over it tilted, and the water was spilled upon the ground. Then upon her soul came joy and grief in one moment, and both her eyes were filled with tears and the flow of her voice was checked. But she touched the chin of Odysseus, and said: “Truly you are Odysseus, dear child, and I did not know you, 475 till I had handled all the body of my lord.” She spoke, and with her eyes looked toward Penelope, eager to show her that her dear husband was at home. But Penelope could not meet her glance nor understand, for Athena had turned her thoughts aside. But Odysseus, 480 feeling for the woman's throat, seized it with his right hand, and with the other drew her closer to him, and said: “Mother, why will you destroy me? You yourself nursed me at this breast of yours, and now after many grievous toils I have come in the twentieth year to my native land. 485 But since you have found me out, and a god has put this in your heart, be silent lest any other in the halls learn of it. For thus I will speak out to you, and truly it shall be brought to pass: if a god shall subdue the lordly suitors to me, I will not spare you, my nurse though you are, when 490 I slay the other serving-women in my halls.” Then wise Eurycleia answered him: “My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth! You know how firm my spirit is and unyielding: I shall be as close as hard stone or iron. 495 And another thing I will tell you, and lay it to heart. If a god shall subdue the lordly suitors to you, then I will name over to you the women in your halls, which ones dishonor you, and which are guiltless.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: 500 “Mother, why, pray, will you speak of them? You need not at all. Of myself I will note them well, and come to know each one. No, keep the matter to yourself, and leave the issue to the gods.” So he spoke, and the old woman went forth through the hall to bring water for his feet, for all the first was spilled. 505 And when she had washed him, and anointed him richly with oil, Odysseus again drew his chair nearer to the fire to warm himself, and hid the scar with his rags. Then wise Penelope was the first to speak, saying: “Stranger, this little thing further I will ask you myself, 510 for it will soon be the hour for pleasant rest, for him at least on whom sweet sleep may come despite his care. But to me a god has given sorrow that is beyond all measure, for day by day I find my joy in mourning and lamenting, while looking to my household tasks and those of my women in the house, 515 but when night comes and sleep lays hold of all, I lie upon my bed, and sharp cares, crowding close about my throbbing heart, disquiet me, as I mourn. Even as when the daughter of Pandareus, the nightingale of the greenwood, sings sweetly, when spring is newly come, 520 as she sits perched amid the thick leafage of the trees, and with many trilling notes pours forth her rich voice in wailing for her child, dear Itylus, whom she had one day slain with the sword unwittingly, Itylus, the son of king Zethus; even so my heart sways to and fro in doubt, 525 whether to remain with my son and keep all things safe, my possessions, my slaves, and my great, high-roofed house, respecting the bed of my husband and the voice of the people, or to go now with whoever is best of the Achaeans, who woos me in the halls and offers bride-gifts past counting. 530 Furthermore my son, so long as he was a child and slack of wit, would not allow me to marry and leave the house of my husband; but now that he is grown and has reached the bounds of manhood, he even begs me to go back again from these halls, being vexed for his substance that the Achaeans devour to his cost. 535 But come now, hear this dream of mine, and interpret it for me. Twenty geese I have in the house that come forth from the water and eat wheat, and my heart warms with joy as I watch them. But forth from the mountain there came a great eagle with crooked beak and broke all their necks and killed them; and they lay strewn 540 in a heap in the halls, while he was borne aloft to the bright sky. Now for my part I wept and wailed, in a dream though it was, and round me thronged the fair-tressed Achaean women, as I grieved piteously because the eagle had slain my geese. Then back he came and perched upon a projecting roof-beam, 545 and with the voice of a mortal man checked my weeping, and said: “‘Take heart, daughter of far-famed Icarius; this is no dream, but a true vision of good which shall surely find fulfillment. The geese are the suitors, and I, that before was the eagle, have now come back again as your husband, 550 who will let loose a cruel doom upon all the suitors.’ “So he spoke, and sweet sleep released me, and looking about I saw the geese in the halls, feeding on wheat beside the trough, where they had before been accustomed to feed.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her and said: 555 “Lady, in no way is it possible to wrest this dream aside and give it another meaning, since truly Odysseus himself has shown you how he will bring it to pass. For the suitors' destruction is plain to see, for one and all; not one of them shall escape death and the fates.” Then wise Penelope answered him again: 560 “Stranger, dreams truly are baffling and unclear of meaning, and in no way do they find fulfillment in all things for men. For two are the gates of shadowy dreams, and one is fashioned of horn and one of ivory. Those dreams that pass through the gate of sawn ivory 565 deceive men, bringing words that find no fulfillment. But those that come forth through the gate of polished horn bring true issues to pass, when any mortal sees them. But in my case it was not from there, I think, that my strange dream came. Ah, truly it would then have been welcome to me and to my son. 570 But another thing I will tell you, and lay it to heart. Even now this morning of evil name is coming on which is to cut me off from the house of Odysseus; for now I shall appoint for a contest those axes which he used to set up in line in his halls, like props of a ship that is building, twelve in all, 575 and he would stand far off and shoot an arrow through them. Now then I shall set this contest before the suitors: whoever shall most easily string the bow in his hands, and shoot an arrow through all twelve axes, with him I will go and forsake this house 580 of my wedded life, a house most fair and filled with livelihood, which, I think, I shall always remember even in my dreams.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, no longer now put off this contest in your halls; 585 for, I tell you, Odysseus of many wiles will be here, before these men, handling this polished bow, have strung it, and shot an arrow through the iron.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “If you could but wish, stranger, to sit here in my halls 590 and give me joy, sleep should never be shed over my eyelids. But it is in no way possible that men should forever be sleepless, for the immortals have appointed a proper time for each thing upon the earth, the giver of grain. But I indeed will go to my upper chamber 595 and lay myself on my bed, which has become for me a bed of wailings, always bedewed with my tears, since the day when Odysseus went to see evil Ilios, that should never be named. There I will lie down, but you lie down here in the hall, when you have strewn bedding on the floor; or let the maids set a bedstead for you.” 600 So saying, she went up to her bright upper chamber, not alone, for with her went her handmaids as well. And when she had gone up to her upper chamber with her handmaids, she then bewailed Odysseus, her dear husband, until flashing-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.
20But the goodly Odysseus lay down to sleep in the fore-hall of the house. On the ground he spread an undressed ox-hide and above it many fleeces of sheep, which the Achaeans used to slay, and Eurynome threw over him a cloak, when he had lain down. 5 There Odysseus, pondering in his heart evil for the suitors, lay sleepless. And the women came out from the hall, those that had before been accustomed to lie with the suitors, making laughter and merriment among themselves. But the heart was stirred in his breast, 10 and much he debated in mind and heart, whether he should rush after them and deal death to each, or allow them to lie with the insolent suitors for the last and latest time; and his heart growled within him. And as a bitch stands over her tender whelps 15 growling, when she sees a man she does not know, and is eager to fight, so his heart growled within him in his wrath at their evil deeds; but he struck his breast, and rebuked his heart, saying: “Endure, my heart; a worse thing even than this did you once endure on that day when the Cyclops, unrestrained in daring, devoured my 20 mighty comrades; but you endured until craft got you out of the cave where you thought you would die.” So he spoke, chiding the heart in his breast, and his heart remained bound within him to endure steadfastly; but he himself lay tossing this way and that. 25 And as when a man before a great blazing fire turns swiftly this way and that a paunch full of fat and blood, and is very eager to have it roasted quickly, so Odysseus tossed from side to side, pondering how he might put forth his hands upon the shameless suitors, 30 one man as he was against so many. Then Athena came down from heaven and drew near to him in the likeness of a woman, and she stood above his head, and spoke to him, and said: “Why now again are you wakeful, ill-fated above all men? See, this is your house, and here within is your wife 35 and your child, such a man, I think, as anyone might pray to have for his son.” And Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Yes, goddess, all this you have spoken rightly. But the heart in my breast is pondering something upon this, how I may put forth my hands upon the shameless suitors, 40 all alone as I am, while they remain always in a body in the house. And furthermore this other and harder thing I ponder in my mind: even if I were to slay them by the will of Zeus and of yourself, where then should I find escape from ruin? Of this I bid you take thought.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: 45 “Obstinate one, many a man puts his trust even in a weaker friend than I am, one that is mortal, and does not know such wisdom as mine; but I am a god, that guards you to the end in all your toils. And I will tell you openly; if fifty troops of mortal men 50 should stand about us, eager to slay us in battle, even their cattle and fine sheep you should drive off. No, let sleep now come over you. There is weariness also in keeping wakeful watch the whole night through; and even now you shall come out of your perils.” So she spoke, and shed sleep upon his eyelids, 55 but herself, the fair goddess, went back to Olympus. Now while sleep seized him, loosening the cares of his heart, sleep that loosens the limbs of men, his true-hearted wife awoke, and wept, as she sat upon her soft bed. But when her heart had had its fill of weeping, 60 to Artemis first of all the fair lady made her prayer: “Artemis, mighty goddess, daughter of Zeus, would that now you would fix your arrow in my breast and take away my life even in this hour; or that a storm-wind might catch me up and carry me away from here over the murky ways, 65 and cast me out at the mouth of backward-flowing Oceanus, even as once storm-winds bore away the daughters of Pandareus. Their parents the gods had slain, and they were left orphans in the halls, and fair Aphrodite tended them with cheese, and sweet honey, and pleasant wine, 70 and Hera gave them beauty and wisdom above all women, and chaste Artemis gave them stature, and Athena taught them skill in famous handiwork. But while beautiful Aphrodite was going to high Olympus to ask for the maidens the accomplishment of joyful marriage— 75 going to Zeus who hurls the thunderbolt, for well he knows all things, both the happiness and the haplessness of mortal men—meanwhile the spirits of the storm snatched away the maidens and gave them to the hateful Erinyes to deal with. Would that even so those who have dwellings on Olympus would blot me from sight, 80 or that fair-tressed Artemis would strike me, so that with Odysseus before my mind I might even pass beneath the hateful earth, and never gladden in any way the heart of a baser man. Yet when a man weeps by day with a heart deeply distressed, 85 but at night sleep holds him, this brings with it an evil that may well be borne—for sleep makes one forget all things, the good and the evil, when once it envelops the eyelids—but upon me a god sends evil dreams as well. For this night again there lay by my side one like him, even such as he was when he went out with the host, and my heart 90 was glad, for I thought it was no dream, but the truth at last.” So she spoke, and at once came golden-throned Dawn. But as she wept goodly Odysseus heard her voice, and then he mused, and it seemed to his heart that she knew him and was standing by his head. 95 Then he gathered up the cloak and the fleeces on which he was lying and laid them on a chair in the hall, and carried the ox-hide out of doors and set it down; and he lifted up his hands and prayed to Zeus: “Father Zeus, if of your good will you gods have brought me over land and sea to my own country, when you had afflicted me greatly, 100 let someone of those who are awaking utter a word of omen for me within, and outside let a sign from Zeus be shown besides.” So he spoke in prayer, and Zeus the counsellor heard him. At once he thundered from gleaming Olympus, from on high out of the clouds; and goodly Odysseus was glad. 105 And a woman, grinding at the mill, uttered a word of omen from within the house close by, where the mills of the shepherd of the people were set. At these mills twelve women in all used to ply their tasks, making meal of barley and of wheat, the marrow of men. Now the others were sleeping, for they had ground their wheat, 110 but she alone had not yet ceased, for she was the weakest of all. She now stopped her mill and spoke a word, a sign for her master: “Father Zeus, who are lord over gods and men, truly loud have you thundered from the starry sky, yet nowhere is there any cloud: surely this is a sign that you are showing to some man. 115 Fulfil now even for wretched me the word that I shall speak. May the suitors this day for the last and latest time hold their glad feast in the halls of Odysseus. They that have loosened my limbs with bitter labour, as I made them barley meal, may they now eat their last supper.” 120 So she spoke, and goodly Odysseus was glad at the word of omen and at the thunder of Zeus, for he thought he had gotten vengeance on the guilty. Now the other maidens in the fair palace of Odysseus had gathered together and were kindling on the hearth unwearied fire, and Telemachus rose from his bed, a godlike man, 125 and put on his clothing. He slung his sharp sword about his shoulder, and beneath his shining feet he bound his fair sandals; and he took his mighty spear, tipped with sharp bronze, and went and stood upon the threshold, and spoke to Eurycleia: “Dear nurse, have you honored the stranger in our house 130 with bed and food, or does he lie all uncared for? For such is my mother's way, wise though she is: in wondrous fashion she honours one of mortal men, though he is the worse, while the better she sends unhonored away.” Then wise Eurycleia answered him: 135 “In this matter, child, you should not blame her, who is without blame. He sat here and drank wine as long as he would, but for food he said he had no more hunger, for she asked him. But when he thought of rest and sleep, she ordered the maidens to spread his bed. 140 But he, as one wholly wretched and hapless, would not sleep on a bed and under blankets, but on an undressed ox-hide and fleeces of sheep he slept in the fore-hall, and we flung over him a cloak.” So she spoke, and Telemachus went out through the hall 145 with his spear in his hand, and with him went two swift hounds. And he went his way to the place of assembly to join the company of the well-greaved Achaeans, but Eurycleia, the noble lady, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor, called to her maidens, saying: “Come, let some of you busily sweep the hall 150 and sprinkle it, and throw on the shapely chairs coverlets of purple, and let others wipe all the tables with sponges and cleanse the mixing-bowls and the well-wrought double cups, and others still go to the spring for water and bring it quickly here. 155 For the suitors will not long be absent from the hall, but will return very early; for it is a feast-day for all men.” So she spoke, and they readily listened and obeyed. Twenty of them went to the spring of dark water, and the others busied themselves there in the house in skilful fashion. 160 Then in came the serving-men of the Achaeans, who then split logs of wood well and skilfully; and the women came back from the spring. After them came the swineherd, driving three boars which were the best in all his herd. These he left to feed in the fair courts, 165 but himself spoke to Odysseus with gentle words: “Stranger, do the Achaeans look on you with any more regard, or do they dishonor you in the halls as before?” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Ah, Eumaeus, I would that the gods might take vengeance on the outrage 170 with which these men in wantonness devise wicked folly in another's house, and have no place for shame.” Thus they spoke to one another. And near to them came Melanthius the goatherd, leading she-goats that were the best in all the herds, 175 to make a feast for the suitors, and two herdsmen followed with him. The goats he tethered beneath the echoing portico, and himself spoke to Odysseus with taunting words: “Stranger, will you even now still be a plague to us here in the hall, asking alms of men, and will you not be gone? 180 It is plain, I think, that we two shall not part company till we taste one another's fists, for your begging is in no way decent. Also it is not here alone that there are feasts of the Achaeans.” So he spoke, but Odysseus of many wiles made no answer, but he shook his head in silence, pondering evil in the deep of his heart. 185 Besides these a third man came, Philoetius, a leader of men, driving for the suitors a barren heifer and fat she-goats. These had been brought over from the mainland by ferrymen, who send other men, too, on their way, whoever comes to them. The beasts he tethered carefully beneath the echoing portico, 190 but himself came close to the swineherd and questioned him, saying: “Who is this stranger, swineherd, who has newly come to our house? From what men does he declare himself to be sprung? Where are his kinsmen and his native fields? Hapless man! Yet truly in form he is like a royal prince; 195 yet the gods bring to misery far-wandering men, whenever they spin for them the threads of trouble, even though they are kings.” With that he drew near to Odysseus, and stretching out his right hand in greeting, spoke and addressed him with winged words: “Hail, Sir stranger; 200 may happy fortune be yours in time to come, though now you are the slave of many sorrows! Father Zeus, no other god is more destructive than you; you have no pity on men when you have yourself given them birth, but bring them into misery and wretched pains. The sweat broke out on me when I noticed the man, and my eyes are full of tears 205 as I think of Odysseus; for he, too, I think, is clothed in such rags and is a wanderer among men, if indeed he still lives and beholds the light of the sun. But if he is already dead and in the house of Hades, then alas for blameless Odysseus, who 210 set me over his cattle, when I was still a boy, in the land of the Cephallenians. And now these grow past counting; in no other way could the breed of broad-browed cattle yield better increase for a mortal man. But strangers order me to drive these now for themselves to eat, and they care nothing for the son in the house, 215 nor do they tremble at the wrath of the gods, for they are eager now to divide among themselves the possessions of our lord that has long been gone. Now, as for myself, the heart in my breast keeps revolving this matter: a very evil thing it is, while the son lives, to depart along with my cattle and go to a land of strangers, 220 even to an alien folk; but this is worse still, to remain here and suffer woes in charge of cattle that are given over to others. Indeed, long ago I would have fled and come to some other of the proud kings, for now things are no more to be borne; but still I think of that hapless one, if perhaps he might come back from I do not know where, 225 and make a scattering of the suitors in his house.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Cowherd, since you seem to be neither an evil man nor a witless, and I see for myself that you have gotten an understanding heart, therefore I will speak out and swear a great oath to confirm my words. 230 Now may Zeus be my witness above all gods, and this hospitable board, and the hearth of noble Odysseus to which I have come, that truly while you are here Odysseus shall come home, and you shall see with your eyes, if you will, the slaying of the suitors, who lord it here.” 235 Then the herdsman of the cattle answered him: “Ah, stranger, I would that the son of Cronos might fulfil this word of yours! Then you would know what manner of might is mine, and how my hands obey.” And in like manner Eumaeus prayed to all the gods that wise Odysseus might come back to his own home. 240 Thus they spoke to one another, but the suitors meanwhile were plotting death and fate for Telemachus; but there came to them a bird on their left, an eagle of lofty flight, clutching a timid dove. Then Amphinomus spoke in their assembly, and said: 245 “Friends, this plan of ours will not run to our liking, namely the slaying of Telemachus; no, let us turn our thoughts to the feast.” So spoke Amphinomus, and his word was pleasing to them. Then, going into the house of godlike Odysseus, they laid their cloaks on the chairs and high seats, 250 and men fell to slaying great sheep and fat goats, yes, and fatted swine, and the heifer of the herd. Then they roasted the entrails and served them out, and mixed wine in the bowls, and the swineherd handed out the cups. And Philoetius, a leader of men, handed them bread 255 in a beautiful basket, and Melanthius poured them wine. So they put forth their hands to the good cheer lying ready before them. But Telemachus, with crafty thought, made Odysseus sit within the well-built hall by the threshold of stone, and placed for him a mean stool and a little table. 260 Beside him he set portions of the entrails and poured wine in a cup of gold, and said to him: “Sit down here among the lords and drink your wine, and the revilings and blows of all the suitors I will myself ward off from you; for this is no public 265 resort, but the house of Odysseus, and it was for me that he won it. And for your part, you suitors, refrain your minds from rebukes and blows, so that no strife or quarrel may arise.” So he spoke, and they all bit their lips and marvelled at Telemachus because he spoke boldly; 270 and Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them, saying: “Hard though it is, Achaeans, let us accept the word of Telemachus, though boldly he threatens us in his speech. For Zeus, son of Cronos, did not allow it, else we would before now have silenced him in the halls, clear-voiced talker though he is.” 275 So spoke Antinous, but Telemachus paid no heed to his words. Meanwhile the heralds were leading through the city the holy hecatomb of the gods, and the long-haired Achaeans gathered together beneath a shady grove of Apollo, the archer-god. But when they had roasted the outer flesh and drawn it off the spits, 280 they divided the portions and feasted a glorious feast. And by Odysseus those who served set a portion equal to that which they received themselves, for so Telemachus commanded, the dear son of divine Odysseus. But the proud suitors Athena 285 would in no way allow to abstain from bitter outrage, so that pain might sink yet deeper into the heart of Odysseus, son of Laertes. There was among the suitors a man with his heart set on lawlessness—Ctesippus was his name, and in Same was his dwelling—who, trusting indeed in his boundless wealth, 290 wooed the wife of Odysseus, that had long been gone. He it was who now spoke among the haughty suitors: “Hear me, you proud suitors, so that I may say something. A portion has the stranger long had, an equal portion, as is fitting; for it is not well nor just to rob of their due 295 the guests of Telemachus, whoever he may be that comes to this house. Come, I too will give him a stranger's-gift, so that he in turn may give a present either to the bath-woman or to some other of the slaves who are in the house of godlike Odysseus.” So saying, he hurled with strong hand the hoof of an ox, 300 taking it up from the basket where it lay. But Odysseus avoided it with a quick turn of his head, and in his heart he smiled a very grim and bitter smile; and the ox's hoof struck the well-built wall. Then Telemachus rebuked Ctesippus, and said: “Ctesippus, truly this thing turned out more to your soul's profit. 305 You did not strike the stranger, for he himself avoided your missile, else surely I would have struck you through the middle with my sharp spear, and instead of a wedding feast your father would have been busied with a funeral feast in this land. So let no man, I warn you, make a show of forwardness in my house; for now I notice and understand all things, 310 the good and the evil, whereas before I was only a child. But none the less we still endure to see these deeds, while sheep are slaughtered, and wine drunk, and bread consumed, for hard it is for one man to restrain many. Yet come, no longer do me harm out of your evil wills. 315 But if you are minded even now to slay me myself with the sword, even that I would choose, and it would be better far to die than continually to behold these shameful deeds, strangers mishandled and men dragging the handmaidens in shameful fashion through the fair hall.” 320 So he spoke, and they were all hushed in silence, but at last there spoke among them Agelaus, son of Damastor: “Friends, no man in answer to what has been fairly spoken would grow angry and make reply with wrangling words. Do not abuse any more the stranger nor any 325 of the slaves that are in the house of divine Odysseus. But to Telemachus and his mother I would speak a gentle word, if perhaps it may find favour in the minds of both. So long as the hearts in your breasts had hope that wise Odysseus would return to his own house, 330 so long there was no ground for blame that you waited, and restrained the suitors in your halls; for this was the better course, had Odysseus returned and come back to his house. But now this is plain, that he will return no more. So then, come, sit by your mother and tell her this, 335 namely that she must wed whoever is the best man, and who offers the most gifts; so that you may enjoy in peace all the heritage of your fathers, eating and drinking, and that she may keep the house of another.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “No, by Zeus, Agelaus, and by the woes of my father, 340 who somewhere far from Ithaca has perished or is wandering, in no way do I delay my mother's marriage, but I urge her to wed whatever man she wishes, and I offer besides gifts past counting. But I am ashamed to drive her out from the hall against her will by a word of compulsion. May God never bring such a thing to pass.” 345 So spoke Telemachus, but among the suitors Pallas Athena roused unquenchable laughter, and turned their wits awry. And now they laughed with alien lips, and all spattered with blood was the flesh they ate, and their eyes were filled with tears and their spirits set on wailing. 350 Then among them spoke godlike Theoclymenus: “Ah, wretched men, what evil is this that you suffer? Shrouded in night are your heads and your faces and your knees beneath you; kindled is the sound of wailing, bathed in tears are your cheeks, and sprinkled with blood are the walls and the fair rafters. 355 And full of ghosts is the porch and full the court, of ghosts that hasten down to Erebus beneath the darkness, and the sun has perished out of heaven and an evil mist hovers over all.” So he spoke, but they all laughed merrily at him. And among them Eurymachus, son of Polybus, was the first to speak: 360 “Mad is the stranger that has newly come from abroad. Quick, you youths, take him out of doors to go his way to the place of assembly, since here he finds it like night.” Then godlike Theoclymenus answered him: “Eurymachus, in no way do I ask you to give me guides for my way. 365 I have eyes and ears and my two feet, and a mind in my breast that is in no way meanly fashioned. With these I will go out of doors, for I see evil coming upon you which not one of the suitors may escape or avoid, of all you who in the house of godlike Odysseus 370 insult men and devise wicked folly.” So saying, he went out from the stately halls and came to Piraeus, who received him with a ready heart. But all the suitors, looking at one another, sought to provoke Telemachus by laughing at his guests. 375 And thus would one of the proud youths speak: “Telemachus, no man is more unlucky in his guests than you, seeing that you keep such a filthy vagabond as this man here, always wanting bread and wine, and skilled neither in the works of peace nor those of war, but a mere burden of the earth. 380 And this other fellow again stood up to prophesy. No, if you would listen to me it would be better far: let us fling these strangers on board a benched ship, and send them to the Sicilians, from where they would bring you in a fitting price.” So spoke the suitors, but he paid no heed to their words. 385 No, in silence he watched his father, always waiting until he should put forth his hands upon the shameless suitors. But the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, had set her beautiful chair opposite them, and heard the words of each man in the hall. 390 For they had made ready their meal in the midst of their laughing, a sweet meal, and one to satisfy the heart, for they had slain many beasts. But never could meal have been more graceless than a supper such as a goddess and a mighty man were soon to set before them. For unprovoked they were contriving deeds of shame.
21But the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, put it into the heart of the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, to set before the suitors in the halls of Odysseus the bow and the gray iron, to be a contest and the beginning of death. 5 She climbed the high stairway to her chamber, and took the bent key in her strong hand—a fine key of bronze, and on it was a handle of ivory. And she went her way with her handmaidens to a store-room, far remote, where lay the treasures of her lord, 10 bronze and gold and iron, wrought with toil. And there lay the back-bent bow and the quiver that held the arrows, and many arrows were in it, fraught with groanings—gifts which a friend of Odysseus had given him when he met him once in Lacedaemon, Iphitus, son of Eurytus, a man like the immortals. 15 They two had met one another in Messene in the house of wise Ortilochus. Odysseus had indeed come to collect a debt which the whole people owed him, for the men of Messene had lifted from Ithaca in their benched ships three hundred sheep and the shepherds with them. 20 It was on an embassy in quest of these that Odysseus had come a far journey, while he was but a youth; for his father and the other elders had sent him forth. And Iphitus, on his part, had come in search of twelve brood mares, which he had lost, with sturdy mules at the teat; but to him afterward they brought death and doom, 25 when he came to the stout-hearted son of Zeus, the man Heracles, who well knew deeds of daring; for Heracles slew him, his guest though he was, in his own house, ruthlessly, and had regard neither for the wrath of the gods nor for the table which he had set before him, but slew the man afterward, 30 and himself kept the stout-hoofed mares in his halls. It was while asking for these that Iphitus met Odysseus, and gave him the bow, which of old great Eurytus had been accustomed to bear, and had left at his death to his son in his lofty house. And to Iphitus Odysseus gave a sharp sword and a mighty spear, 35 as the beginning of loving friendship; yet they never knew one another at the table, for before that could be the son of Zeus had slain Iphitus, son of Eurytus, a man like the immortals, who gave Odysseus the bow. This bow goodly Odysseus, when going forth to war, would never 40 take with him on the black ships, but it lay in his halls at home as a memorial of a dear friend, and he carried it in his own land. Now when the fair lady had come to the store-room, and had stepped upon the threshold of oak, which of old the carpenter had skilfully planed and made straight to the line— 45 on it he had also fitted door-posts, and set on them bright doors—at once she quickly loosed the thong from the handle and thrust in the key, and with sure aim shot back the bolts. And as a bull bellows 50 when grazing in a meadow, even so bellowed the fair doors, struck by the key; and quickly they flew open before her. Then she stepped upon the high floor, where the chests stood in which fragrant clothing was stored, and stretched out her hand from there and took from its peg the bow together with the bright case which surrounded it. 55 And there she sat down and laid the case upon her knees and wept aloud, and took out the bow of her lord. But when she had had her fill of tearful wailing, she went her way to the hall, to the company of the lordly suitors, bearing in her hands the back-bent bow and the quiver 60 that held the arrows, and many arrows were in it, fraught with groanings. And by her side her maidens bore a chest, in which lay abundance of iron and bronze, the battle-gear of her lord. Now when the fair lady reached the suitors, she stood by the door-post of the well-built hall, 65 holding before her face her shining veil; and a faithful handmaid stood on either side of her. Then at once she spoke among the suitors, and said: “Hear me, you proud suitors, who have beset this house to eat and drink ever without end, 70 since its master has long been gone, nor could you find any other plea to urge, except only as desiring to wed me and take me to wife. No, come now, you suitors, since this is shown to be your prize. I will set before you the great bow of divine Odysseus, 75 and whoever shall most easily string the bow in his hands and shoot an arrow through all twelve axes, with him will I go, and forsake this house of my wedded life, a house most fair and filled with livelihood, which, I think, I shall always remember even in my dreams.” 80 So she spoke, and told Eumaeus, the noble swineherd, to set for the suitors the bow and the grey iron. And, bursting into tears, Eumaeus took them and laid them down, and in another place the cowherd wept, when he saw the bow of his lord. Then Antinous rebuked them, and spoke, and addressed them: 85 “Foolish boors, who mind only the things of the day! Wretched pair, why now do you shed tears, and trouble the soul in the breast of the lady, whose heart even as it is lies low in pain, seeing that she has lost her dear husband? No, sit and feast in silence, 90 or else go forth and weep, and leave the bow here behind as a decisive contest for the suitors; for not easily, I think, is this polished bow to be strung. For there is no man among all these here such as Odysseus was, and I myself saw him. 95 For I remember him, though I was still but a child.” So he spoke, but the heart in his breast hoped that he would string the bow and shoot an arrow through the iron. Yet indeed he was to be the first to taste of an arrow from the hands of noble Odysseus, whom then he, 100 as he sat in the halls, was dishonoring, and urging on all his comrades. Then among them spoke the strong and mighty Telemachus: “See now, in truth Zeus, son of Cronos, has made me witless. My dear mother, for all that she is wise, declares that she will follow another lord, forsaking this house; 105 yet I laugh, and am glad with a witless mind. Come then, you suitors, since this is shown to be your prize, a lady, the like of whom is not now in the Achaean land, neither in sacred Pylos, nor in Argos, nor in Mycene, nor yet in Ithaca itself, nor in the dark mainland. 110 No, but you know this of yourselves—what need have I to praise my mother? Come then, do not put the matter aside with excuses, nor any more turn away too long from the drawing of the bow, that we may see the issue. Yes, and I would myself make trial of that bow. If I shall string it and shoot an arrow through the iron, 115 it will not vex me that my honored mother should leave this house and go along with another, seeing that I should be left here able now to wield the fine battle-gear of my father.” With this he flung the scarlet cloak from off his back, and sprang up erect; and he laid his sharp sword from off his shoulders. 120 First then he set up the axes, when he had dug a trench, one long trench for all, and made it straight to the line, and about them he stamped in the earth. And amazement seized all who saw him, that he set them out so orderly, though before he had never seen them. Then he went and stood upon the threshold, and began to try the bow. 125 Three times he made it quiver in his eagerness to draw it, and three times he relaxed his effort, though in his heart he hoped to string the bow and shoot an arrow through the iron. And now at the last he would perhaps have strung it in his might, as for the fourth time he sought to draw up the string, but Odysseus nodded in dissent, and checked him in his eagerness. 130 Then the strong and mighty Telemachus spoke among them again: “For shame, even in days to come shall I be a coward and a weakling, or else I am too young, and have not yet trust in my might to defend me against a man, when one grows angry without a cause. But, come now, you that are mightier than I, 135 make trial of the bow, and let us end the contest.” So saying, he set the bow from him on the ground, leaning it against the jointed, polished door, and close by he leaned the swift arrow against the fair bow-tip, and then sat down again on the seat from which he had risen. 140 Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them: “Rise up in order, all you of our company, from left to right, beginning from the place where the cupbearer pours the wine.” So spoke Antinous, and his word was pleasing to them. Then first arose Leiodes, son of Oenops, 145 who was their soothsayer, and always sat by the fair mixing-bowl in the innermost part of the hall; deeds of wanton folly were hateful to him alone, and he was full of indignation at all the suitors. He it was who now first took the bow and swift arrow, and he went and stood upon the threshold, and began to try the bow; 150 but he could not string it. Before that could be his hands grew weary, as he sought to draw up the string, his unworn delicate hands; and he spoke among the suitors: “Friends, it is not I that shall string it; let another take it. For many princes shall this bow rob of spirit and of life, since truly it is far better 155 to die than to live on and fail of that for the sake of which we always gather here, waiting expectantly day after day. Now many a man even hopes in his heart and desires to wed Penelope, the wife of Odysseus; but when he shall have made trial of the bow, and seen the outcome, after that let him woo 160 some other of the fair-robed Achaean women with his gifts, and seek to win her; then should Penelope wed him who offers most, and who comes as her fated lord.” So he spoke, and set the bow from him, leaning it against the jointed, polished door, 165 and close by he leaned the swift arrow against the fair bow-tip, and then sat down on the seat from which he had risen. But Antinous rebuked him, and spoke, and addressed him: “Leiodes, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth, a dread word and grievous! I am angered to hear it, 170 if indeed this bow is to rob princes of spirit and of life, because you are not able to string it. For, I tell you, your honored mother did not bear you of such strength as to draw a bow and shoot arrows; but others of the lordly suitors will soon string it.” 175 So he spoke, and called to Melanthius, the goatherd: “Come now, light a fire in the hall, Melanthius; and set by it a great seat with a fleece upon it, and bring out a great cake of the fat that is within, that we youths may warm the bow, and anoint it with fat, 180 and so make trial of it, and end the contest.” So he spoke, and Melanthius at once rekindled the unwearied fire, and brought and placed by it a great seat with a fleece upon it, and he brought out a great cake of the fat that was within. With it the youths warmed the bow, and made trial of it, but they could not 185 string it, for they were far lacking in strength. Now Antinous was still persisting and godlike Eurymachus, leaders of the suitors, who were far the best in valor; but those other two had gone forth both together from the hall, the cowherd and the swineherd of divine Odysseus; 190 and after them Odysseus himself went forth from the house. But when they were now outside the gates and the court, he spoke and addressed them with gentle words: “Cowherd, and you too, swineherd, shall I tell you something or keep it to myself? No, my spirit bids me tell it. 195 What manner of men would you be to defend Odysseus, if he should come from somewhere thus suddenly, and some god should bring him? Would you bear aid to the suitors or to Odysseus? Speak out as your heart and spirit bid you.” Then the herdsman of the cattle answered him: 200 “Father Zeus, oh that you would fulfil this wish! Grant that that man may come back, and that some god may guide him. Then you would know what manner of might is mine, and how my hands obey.” And in like manner Eumaeus prayed to all the gods that wise Odysseus might come back to his own home. 205 But when he knew with certainty the mind of these, he made answer, and spoke to them again, saying: “At home now in truth am I here before you, my very self. After many grievous toils I have come in the twentieth year to my native land. And I know that by you two 210 alone of all my servants is my coming desired, but of the rest I have not heard one praying that I might come back again to my home. But to you two will I tell the truth, just as it shall be. If a god shall subdue the lordly suitors to me, I will bring you each a wife, and will give you possessions 215 and a house built near my own, and from then on you two shall be in my eyes friends and brothers of Telemachus. No, come, more than this, I will show you also a manifest sign, that you may know me well and be assured in heart, the scar of the wound which long ago a boar dealt me with his white tusk, 220 when I went to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.” So saying, he drew aside the rags from the great scar. And when the two had seen it, and had noted each thing well, they flung their arms about wise Odysseus, and wept; and they kissed his head and shoulders in loving welcome. 225 And in like manner Odysseus kissed their heads and hands. And now the light of the sun would have gone down upon their weeping, had not Odysseus himself checked them, and said: “Cease now from weeping and wailing, lest someone come forth from the hall and see us, and make it known within as well. 230 But go within one after another, not all together, I first and you afterward, and let this be made a sign. All the rest, as many as are lordly suitors, will not allow the bow and the quiver to be given to me; but you, goodly Eumaeus, as you bear the bow through the halls, 235 place it in my hands, and tell the women to bar the close-fitting doors of their hall. And if any one of them hears groanings or the din of men within our walls, let them not rush out, but remain where they are in silence at their work. 240 But to you, goodly Philoetius, I give charge to fasten with a bar the gate of the court, and swiftly to cast a cord upon it.” So saying, he entered the stately house, and went and sat down on the seat from which he had risen. And the two slaves of divine Odysseus went in as well. 245 Eurymachus was now handling the bow, warming it on this side and on that in the light of the fire; but not even so was he able to string it; and in his noble heart he groaned, and with a burst of anger he spoke and addressed them: “For shame! Truly I am grieved for myself and for you all. 250 It is in no way for the marriage that I mourn so greatly, grieved though I am; for there are many other Achaean women, some in sea-girt Ithaca itself, and some in other cities; but I mourn if in truth we fall so far short of godlike Odysseus in might, seeing that we cannot string 255 his bow. This is a reproach for men that are yet to be to hear of.” Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him: “Eurymachus, this shall not be so, and you yourself know it too. For today throughout the land is the feast of the god—a holy feast. Who then would bend a bow? No, quietly 260 set it by; and as for the axes—what if we should let them all stand as they are? No man, I think, will come to the hall of Odysseus, son of Laertes, and carry them off. No, come, let the bearer pour drops for libation into the cups, that we may pour libations, and lay aside the curved bow. 265 And in the morning tell Melanthius, the goatherd, to bring she-goats, far the best in all the herds, that we may lay thigh-pieces on the altar of Apollo, the famed archer; and so make trial of the bow, and end the contest.” So spoke Antinous, and his word was pleasing to them. 270 Then the heralds poured water over their hands, and youths filled the bowls brim full of drink, and served out to all, pouring first drops for libation into the cups. But when they had poured libations, and had drunk to their heart's content, then with crafty mind Odysseus of many wiles spoke among them: 275 “Hear me, suitors of the glorious queen, that I may say what the heart in my breast bids me. To Eurymachus most of all do I make my prayer, and to godlike Antinous, since this word also of his was spoken aright, namely that for the present you cease to try the bow, and leave the issue with the gods; 280 and in the morning the god will give the victory to whomever he will. But come, give me the polished bow, that in your midst I may prove my hands and strength, whether I have yet might such as was of old in my supple limbs, or whether by now my wanderings and lack of food have destroyed it.” 285 So he spoke, and they all grew exceedingly angry, fearing lest he might string the polished bow. And Antinous rebuked him, and spoke and addressed him: “Ah, wretched stranger, you have no wit, no, not a trace. Are you not content 290 that you feast undisturbed in our proud company, and lack nothing of the banquet, but hear our words and our speech, while no other that is a stranger and beggar hears our words? It is wine that wounds you, honey-sweet wine, which works harm to others too, if one takes it in great gulps, and drinks beyond measure. 295 It was wine that made foolish even the centaur, glorious Eurytion, in the hall of greathearted Peirithous, when he went to the Lapithae: and when his heart had been made foolish with wine, in his madness he did evil in the house of Peirithous. Then grief seized the heroes, 300 and they leapt up and dragged him forth through the gateway, when they had shorn off his ears and his nostrils with the pitiless bronze, and he, made foolish in heart, went his way, bearing with him the curse of his sin in the folly of his heart. From this the feud arose between the centaurs and mankind; but it was for himself first that he found evil, being heavy with wine. 305 Even so do I declare great harm for you, if you string the bow, for you will meet with no kindness at the hands of anyone in our land, but we will send you at once in a black ship to king Echetus, the maimer of all men, from whose hands you will in no way escape alive. No, then, be still, 310 and drink your wine, and do not strive with men younger than you.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Antinous, it is not well nor just to rob of their due the guests of Telemachus, whoever he is that comes to this house. Do you think that, if that stranger 315 strings the great bow of Odysseus, trusting in his strength and his might, he will lead me to his home, and make me his wife? No, he himself, I think, has not this hope in his breast; so let no one of you on this account sit at table here in sorrow of heart; no, that would indeed be unseemly.” 320 Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her: “Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, it is not that we think the man will lead you to his home—that would indeed be unseemly—but that we dread the talk of men and women, lest hereafter some base fellow among the Achaeans should say: 325 ‘Truly men far weaker are wooing the wife of a noble man, and cannot string his polished bow. But another, a beggar, that came on his wanderings, easily strung the bow, and shot through the iron.’ Thus will men speak, but to us this would become a reproach.” 330 Then wise Penelope answered him again: “Eurymachus, in no way can there be good report in the land for men who dishonor and consume the house of a prince. Why then do you make this matter a reproach? This stranger is very tall and well-built, 335 and declares himself to be born the son of a good father. No, come, give him the polished bow and let us see. For thus will I speak out to you, and this word shall surely be brought to pass; if he shall string the bow, and Apollo grant him glory, I will clothe him with a cloak and tunic, fine clothing, 340 and will give him a sharp javelin to ward off dogs and men, and a two-edged sword; and I will give him sandals to bind beneath his feet, and will send him wherever his heart and spirit bid him go.” Then wise Telemachus answered her: “My mother, as for the bow, no man of the Achaeans 345 has a better right than I to give or to deny it to whomever I will—no, not all those who lord it in rocky Ithaca, or in the islands towards horse-pasturing Elis. No man among these shall thwart me against my will, even though I should wish to give this bow outright to the stranger to bear away with him. 350 But go to your chamber, and busy yourself with your own tasks, the loom and the distaff, and tell your handmaids to ply their tasks. The bow shall be for men, for all, but most of all for me; since mine is the authority in the house.” She then, seized with wonder, went back to her chamber, 355 for she laid to heart the wise saying of her son. Up to her upper chamber she went with her handmaids, and then lamented Odysseus, her dear husband, until flashing-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids. Now the noble swineherd had taken the curved bow and was bearing it, 360 but the suitors all cried out in the halls. And thus would one of the proud youths speak: “Where, pray, are you carrying the curved bow, miserable swineherd, you distracted man? Soon by your swine, alone and apart from men, shall the swift hounds devour you—hounds you yourself reared—if only Apollo 365 be gracious to us, and the other immortal gods.” So they spoke, and he set down the bow, as he bore it, in that very place, seized with fear because many men were crying out aloud in the halls. But Telemachus on the other side called out threateningly: “Father, bear the bow onward—soon you will regret giving heed to all— 370 lest, younger though I am, I drive you to the field, and pelt you with stones; for in strength I am the better. I wish that I were even so much better in strength and might than all the suitors that are in the house; then would I soon send many a one 375 forth from our house to go his way in a sorry plight; for they devise wickedness.” So he spoke, but all the suitors laughed merrily at him, and relaxed the bitterness of their anger against Telemachus. But the swineherd bore the bow through the hall, and came up to wise Odysseus, and put it in his hands. 380 Then he called forth the nurse Eurycleia, and said to her: “Telemachus bids you, wise Eurycleia, to bar the close-fitting doors of the hall, and if any of the women hear within groanings or the din of men within our walls, let them not 385 rush out, but remain where they are in silence at their work.” So he spoke, but her word remained unwinged; and she barred the doors of the stately halls. But in silence Philoetius hastened forth from the house, and barred the gates of the well-fenced court. 390 Now there lay beneath the portico the cable of a curved ship, made of byblus plant, with which he made fast the gates, and then himself went within. Afterward he came and sat down on the seat from which he had risen, and gazed upon Odysseus; now he was already handling the bow, turning it round and round, and trying it this way and that, 395 lest worms might have eaten the horns, while its lord was far away. And thus would one speak with a glance at his neighbor: “Truly he has a shrewd eye, and is a cunning rogue with a bow. It may be that he has himself such bows stored away at home, or else he intends to make one, that he thus 400 turns it this way and that in his hands, the rascally vagabond.” And again another of the proud youths would say: “Would that the fellow might find profit in just such measure as he shall prove able ever to string this bow.” So spoke the suitors, but Odysseus of many wiles, 405 as soon as he had lifted the great bow and scanned it on every side—even as when a man well-skilled in the lyre and in song easily stretches the string about a new peg, making fast at either end the twisted sheep-gut—so without effort did Odysseus string the great bow. 410 And he held it in his right hand, and tried the string, which sang sweetly beneath his touch, like a swallow in tone. But upon the suitors came great grief, and their faces changed color, and Zeus thundered loud, showing his signs. Then glad at heart was the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus 415 that the son of crooked-counselling Cronos sent him an omen, and he took up a swift arrow, which lay by him on the table, bare, but the others were stored within the hollow quiver, the very ones of which the Achaeans were soon to taste. This he took, and laid upon the bridge of the bow, and drew the bow-string and the notched arrow 420 right from the chair where he sat, and let fly the shaft with sure aim, and did not miss the end of the handle of one of the axes, but clean through and out at the end passed the arrow weighted with bronze. But he spoke to Telemachus, saying: “Telemachus, the stranger 425 that sits in your halls brings no shame upon you, nor in any way did I miss the mark, or labour long in stringing the bow; still is my strength unbroken—not as the suitors scornfully taunt me. But now it is time that supper too be made ready for the Achaeans, while there is still light, and after that must yet other sport be made 430 with song and with the lyre; for these things are the accompaniments of a feast.” He spoke, and made a sign with his brows, and Telemachus, the dear son of divine Odysseus, girded on his sharp sword, and took his spear in his grasp, and stood by the chair at his father's side, armed with gleaming bronze.
22But Odysseus of many wiles stripped off his rags and sprang to the great threshold with the bow and the quiver full of arrows, and poured forth the swift arrows right there before his feet, and spoke among the suitors: 5 “See, now at last is this decisive contest ended; and now as for another mark, which till now no man has ever struck, I will know if perhaps I may strike it, and Apollo grants me glory.” He spoke, and aimed a bitter arrow at Antinous. Now he was on the point of raising to his lips a fair goblet, 10 a two-eared cup of gold, and was even now handling it, that he might drink of the wine, and death was not in his thoughts. For who among men that sat at table could think that one man among many, however strong he might be, would bring upon himself evil death and black fate? 15 But Odysseus took aim, and struck him with an arrow in the throat, and clean out through the tender neck passed the point; he sank to one side, and the cup fell from his hand as he was struck, and at once up through his nostrils there came a thick jet of the blood of man; and quickly 20 he thrust the table from him with a kick of his foot, and spilled all the food on the floor, and the bread and roast flesh were befouled. Then into uproar broke the suitors through the halls, as they saw the man fallen, and from their high seats they sprang, driven in fear through the hall, gazing everywhere along the well-built walls; 25 but nowhere was there a shield or mighty spear to seize. But they railed at Odysseus with angry words: “Stranger, to your cost do you shoot at men; never again will you take part in other contests; now is your utter destruction sure. Yes, for you have now slain a man who was far the best 30 of the youths in Ithaca; therefore shall vultures devour you here.” So spoke each man, for truly they thought that he had not slain the man willfully; and in their folly they did not know this, that over themselves one and all the cords of destruction had been made fast. Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows Odysseus of many wiles answered them: 35 “You dogs, you thought that I should never more come home from the land of the Trojans, seeing that you wasted my house, and lay with the maidservants by force, and while I still lived covertly wooed my wife, having no fear of the gods, who hold broad heaven, 40 nor of the indignation of men, that is to be hereafter. Now over you one and all have the cords of destruction been made fast.” So he spoke, and at this pale fear seized them all, and each man gazed about to see how he might escape utter destruction; Eurymachus alone answered him, and said: 45 “If you are indeed Odysseus of Ithaca, come home again, this that you say is just regarding all that the Achaeans have done—many deeds of wanton folly in your halls and many in the field. But he now lies dead, who was to blame for all, Antinous; for it was he who set on foot these deeds, 50 not so much through desire or need of the marriage, but with another purpose, which the son of Cronos did not bring to pass for him, that in the land of settled Ithaca he might himself be king, and might lie in wait for your son and slay him. But now he lies slain, as was his due, but spare the people 55 that are your own; and we will hereafter go about the land and get you recompense for all that has been drunk and eaten in your halls, and will bring each man for himself in requital the worth of twenty oxen, and pay you back in bronze and gold until your heart is warmed; but till then no one could blame you that you are angry.” 60 Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows Odysseus of many wiles answered him: “Eurymachus, not even if you should give me in requital all that your fathers left you, all that you now have, and should add other wealth to it from wherever you might, not even so would I henceforth stay my hands from slaying until the suitors had paid the full price of all their transgression. 65 Now it lies before you to fight in open fight, or to flee, if any man may avoid death and the fates; but many a one, I think, will not escape from utter destruction.” So he spoke, and their knees were loosened where they stood, and their hearts melted; and Eurymachus spoke among them again a second time: 70 “Friends, for you see that this man will not stay his invincible hands, but now that he has got the polished bow and the quiver, will shoot from the smooth threshold until he slays us all, come, let us take thought of battle. Draw your swords, and hold the tables before you against 75 the arrows that bring swift death, and let us all have at him in a body, in the hope that we may thrust him from the threshold and the doorway, and go throughout the city, and so the alarm may be swiftly raised; then this fellow would soon have shot his last.” So saying, he drew his sharp sword 80 of bronze, two-edged, and sprang upon Odysseus with a terrible cry, but at the same instant goodly Odysseus let fly an arrow, and struck him upon the breast beside the nipple, and fixed the swift shaft in his liver. And Eurymachus let the sword fall from his hand to the ground, and writhing over the table 85 he bowed and fell, and spilled upon the floor the food and the two-handled cup. With his brow he beat the earth in agony of soul, and with both his feet he kicked and shook the chair, and a mist was shed over his eyes. Then Amphinomus made at glorious Odysseus, 90 rushing straight upon him, and had drawn his sharp sword, in hope that Odysseus might give way before him from the door. But Telemachus was too quick for him, and cast, and struck him from behind with his bronze-tipped spear between the shoulders, and drove it through his breast; and he fell with a thud, and struck the ground full with his forehead. 95 But Telemachus sprang back, leaving the long spear where it was, fixed in Amphinomus, for he greatly feared lest, as he sought to draw forth the long spear, one of the Achaeans might rush upon him and stab with his sword, or deal him a blow as he stooped over the corpse. So he started to run, and came quickly to his dear father, 100 and standing by his side spoke to him winged words: “Father, now I will bring you a shield and two spears and a helmet all of bronze, well fitted to the temples, and when I come back I will arm myself, and will give armour likewise to the swineherd and that cowherd; for it is better to be clothed in armour.” 105 Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him and said: “Run, and bring them, while I still have arrows to defend me, lest they thrust me from the door, alone as I am.” So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father, and went his way to the store-chamber where the glorious arms were stored. 110 From there he took four shields and eight spears and four helmets of bronze, with thick plumes of horse-hair; and he bore them forth, and quickly came to his dear father. Then first of all he himself girded the bronze about his body, and in like manner the two slaves put on the beautiful armour, 115 and took their stand on either side of Odysseus, the wise and crafty-minded. But he, so long as he had arrows to defend him, would always aim, and strike the suitors one by one in his house, and they fell thick and fast. But when the arrows failed the prince, as he shot, 120 he leaned the bow against the door-post of the well-built hall, and let it stand against the bright entrance wall. For himself, he put about his shoulders a four-fold shield, and set on his mighty head a well-wrought helmet with horse-hair plume, and terribly did the plume wave above him; 125 and he took two mighty spears, tipped with bronze. Now there was in the well-built wall a certain postern door, and along the topmost level of the threshold of the well-built hall was a way into a passage, and well-fitting folding doors closed it. This postern Odysseus told the noble swineherd to watch, 130 taking his stand close by, for there was but a single way to reach it. Then Agelaus spoke among the suitors, and declared his word to all: “Friends, will not one mount up by the postern door, and tell the people, so that an alarm may be raised at once? Then this fellow would soon have shot his last.” 135 Then Melanthius, the goatherd, answered him: “It cannot be, Agelaus, fostered of Zeus, for terribly near is the fair door of the court, and the mouth of the passage is hard. One man could bar the way for all, if he were valiant. But come, let me bring you 140 from the store-room arms to don, for it is within, I think, and nowhere else that Odysseus and his glorious son have laid the arms.” So saying, Melanthius, the goatherd, mounted up by the steps of the hall to the store-rooms of Odysseus. From there he took twelve shields, as many spears, 145 and as many helmets of bronze with thick plumes of horsehair, and went his way, and quickly brought and gave them to the suitors. Then the knees of Odysseus were loosened and his heart melted, when he saw them donning armour and brandishing long spears in their hands, and great did his task seem to him; 150 but quickly he spoke to Telemachus winged words: “Telemachus, surely some one of the women in the halls is rousing against us an evil battle, or perhaps it is Melanthius.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Father, it is I myself who am at fault in this, and no other 155 is to blame, for I left the close-fitting door of the store-room open: their watcher was better than I. But go now, goodly Eumaeus, close the door of the store-room, and see whether it is one of the women who does this, or Melanthius, son of Dolius, as I suspect.” 160 Thus they spoke to one another. But Melanthius, the goatherd, went again to the store-room to bring beautiful armour; but the noble swineherd noticed him, and at once said to Odysseus who was near: “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, 165 there again is the pestilent fellow, whom we ourselves suspect, going to the store-room. But tell me truly, shall I slay him, if I prove the better man, or shall I bring him here to you, that the fellow may pay for the many crimes that he has planned in your house?” 170 Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him and said: “Truly I and Telemachus will keep the lordly suitors within the hall, however fierce they may be, but you two bend behind him his feet and his arms above, and cast him into the store-room, and tie boards behind his back; 175 then make fast to his body a twisted rope, and hoist him up the tall pillar, till you bring him near the roof-beams, that he may keep alive long, and suffer grievous torment.” So he spoke, and they readily listened and obeyed. Forth they went to the store-room, unseen by him who was within. 180 He truly was seeking for armour in the innermost part of the store-room, and the two lay in wait, standing on either side of the door-posts. And when Melanthius, the goatherd, was about to pass over the threshold, bearing in one hand a fine helmet, and in the other a broad old shield, flecked with rust— 185 the shield of lord Laertes, which he used to bear in his youth, but now it was laid by, and the seams of its straps were loosened—then the two sprang upon him and seized him. They dragged him in by the hair, and flung him down on the ground in great terror, and bound his feet and hands with galling bonds, 190 binding them firmly behind his back, as the son of Laertes ordered them, the much enduring, goodly Odysseus; and they made fast to his body a twisted rope, and hoisted him up the tall pillar, till they brought him near the roof-beams. Then you mocked him, swineherd Eumaeus, and said: 195 “Now truly, Melanthius, you will watch the whole night through, lying on a soft bed, as befits you, nor will you fail to see the early Dawn, golden-throned, as she comes forth from the streams of Oceanus, at the hour when you are used to driving your she-goats for the suitors, to prepare a feast in the halls.” 200 So he was left there, stretched in the dreadful bond, but the two put on their armour, and closed the bright door, and went to Odysseus, the wise and crafty-minded. There they stood, breathing fury, those on the threshold but four, while those within the hall were many and brave. 205 Then Athena, daughter of Zeus, drew near them, like Mentor in form and voice, and Odysseus saw her, and was glad; and he spoke, saying: “Mentor, ward off ruin, and remember me, your dear comrade, who often befriended you. You are of like age with myself.” 210 So he spoke, thinking that it was Athena, the rouser of hosts. But the suitors on the other side shouted aloud in the hall, and first Agelaus, son of Damastor, rebuked Athena, saying: “Mentor, do not let Odysseus beguile you with his words to fight against the suitors and bear aid to himself. 215 For in this way, I think, shall our will be brought to pass: when we have killed these men, father and son, thereafter you too shall be slain with them, such deeds are you minded to do in these halls: with your own head you shall pay the price. But when with the sword we have stripped you of your might, 220 all the possessions that you have within doors and in the fields we will mingle with those of Odysseus, and will not allow your sons or your daughters to dwell in your halls, nor your faithful wife to go about freely in the city of Ithaca.” So he spoke, and Athena grew the more angry at heart, 225 and she rebuked Odysseus with angry words: “Odysseus, no longer have you steadfast might nor any valor, such as was yours when for high-born Helen of the white arms you battled for nine years with the Trojans unceasingly, and many men you slew in dread conflict, 230 and by your counsel was the broad-wayed city of Priam taken. How is it that now, when you have come to your house and your own possessions, you shrink with wailing from playing the man, and that against the suitors? No, friend, come here and take your stand by my side, and see my deeds, that you may know what manner of man 235 Mentor, son of Alcimus, is to repay kindness in the midst of the foe.” She spoke, but did not give him strength utterly to turn the course of the battle, but still made trial of the might and valor of Odysseus and his glorious son; and for herself, 240 she flew up to the roof-beam of the smoky hall, and sat there in the guise of a swallow to look upon. Now the suitors were urged on by Agelaus, son of Damastor, by Eurynomus, and Amphimedon and Demoptolemus and Peisander, son of Polyctor, and wise Polybus, for these were in valor far the best of all the suitors 245 who still lived and fought for their lives; but the rest the bow and the swiftly-falling arrows had by now laid low. But Agelaus spoke among them, and declared his word to all: “Friends, now at length will this man stay his invincible hands. See, Mentor has gone from him, and has but uttered empty boasts, 250 and they are left alone there at the outer doors. Therefore do not now hurl upon them your long spears all at once, but come, you six throw first in the hope that Zeus may grant that Odysseus be struck, and that we win glory. Of the rest there is no care, once he has fallen.” 255 So he spoke, and they all hurled their spears, as he ordered, eagerly; but Athena made all vain. One man struck the door-post of the well-built hall, another the close-fitting door, another's ashen spear, heavy with bronze, struck upon the wall. 260 But when they had avoided the spears of the suitors, first among them spoke the much-enduring goodly Odysseus: “Friends, now I give the word that we too cast our spears into the throng of the suitors, who are minded to slay us in addition to their former wrongs.” 265 So he spoke, and they all hurled their sharp spears with sure aim. Odysseus struck Demoptolemus, Telemachus Euryades, the swineherd Elatus, and the herdsmen of the cattle slew Peisander. So these all at the same moment bit the vast floor with their teeth, 270 and the suitors drew back to the innermost part of the hall. But the others sprang forward and drew forth their spears from the dead bodies. Then again the suitors hurled their sharp spears eagerly, but Athena made them vain, many as they were. One man 275 struck the door-post of the well-built hall, another the close-fitting door, another's ashen spear, heavy with bronze, struck upon the wall. But Amphimedon struck Telemachus on the hand by the wrist, a grazing blow, and the bronze tore the surface of the skin. And Ctesippus with his long spear 280 grazed the shoulder of Eumaeus above his shield, but the spear flew over and fell upon the ground. Then once more Odysseus, the wise and crafty-minded, and his company hurled their sharp spears into the throng of the suitors, and again Odysseus, the sacker of cities, struck Eurydamas, and Telemachus Amphimedon, the swineherd Polybus, 285 and thereafter the herdsman of the cattle struck Ctesippus in the breast, and boasted over him, saying: “Son of Polytherses, you lover of revilings, never again at all speak big, yielding to folly, but leave the matter to the gods, since truly they are mightier far. 290 This is your gift of welcome to match the hoof which you lately gave to godlike Odysseus, when he went begging through the house.” So spoke the herdsman of the sleek cattle. But Odysseus wounded the son of Damastor in close fight with a thrust of his long spear, and Telemachus wounded Leiocritus, son of Evenor, 295 with a spear-thrust full upon the groin, and drove the bronze clean through, and he fell headlong and struck the ground full with his forehead. Then Athena held up her aegis, the bane of mortals, on high from the roof, and the minds of the suitors were panic-stricken, and they fled through the halls like a herd of cattle 300 that the darting gad-fly falls upon and drives along in the season of spring, when the long days come. And even as vultures of crooked talons and curved beaks come forth from the mountains and dart upon smaller birds, which scour the plain, flying low beneath the clouds, 305 and the vultures pounce upon them and slay them, and they have no defence or way of escape, and men rejoice at the chase; even so did those others set upon the suitors and strike them left and right through the hall. And from it rose hideous groaning as heads were struck, and all the floor swam with blood. 310 But Leiodes rushed forward and clasped the knees of Odysseus, and made entreaty to him, and spoke winged words: “By your knees I beseech you, Odysseus, and respect me and have pity. For I declare to you that never yet have I wronged one of the women in your halls by wanton word or deed; no, 315 I sought to check the other suitors, when any would do such deeds. But they would not listen to me and withhold their hands from evil, so through their wanton folly they have met a cruel doom. Yet I, the soothsayer among them, who have done no wrong, shall be laid low even as they; so true is it that there is no gratitude afterwards for good deeds done.” 320 Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows Odysseus of many wiles answered him: “If truly you declare yourself the soothsayer among these men, often, I think, you must have prayed in the halls that far from me the issue of a joyous return might be removed, and that it might be with you that my dear wife should go and bear you children; 325 so you shall not escape grievous death.” So saying, he seized in his strong hand a sword that lay near, which Agelaus had let fall to the ground when he was slain, and with this he struck him full upon the neck. And even while he was still speaking his head was mingled with the dust. 330 Now the son of Terpes, the minstrel, was still seeking to escape black fate, Phemius, who sang under compulsion among the suitors. He stood with the clear-toned lyre in his hands near the postern door, and he was divided in mind whether he should slip out from the hall 335 and sit down by the well-built altar of great Zeus, the God of the court, on which Laertes and Odysseus had burned many thigh-pieces of oxen, or whether he should rush forward and clasp the knees of Odysseus in prayer. And as he pondered this seemed to him the better course, to clasp the knees of Odysseus, son of Laertes. 340 So he laid the hollow lyre on the ground between the mixing-bowl and the silver-studded chair, and himself rushed forward and clasped Odysseus by the knees, and made entreaty to him, and spoke winged words: “By your knees I beseech you, Odysseus, and respect me and have pity; 345 on your own self shall sorrow come hereafter, if you slay the minstrel, me, who sing to gods and men. Self-taught am I, and the god has planted in my heart all manner of songs, and worthy am I to sing to you as to a god; so do not be eager to cut my throat. 350 Yes, and Telemachus too will bear witness to this, your dear son, how through no will or desire of mine I used to come to your house to sing to the suitors at their feasts, but they, being far more and stronger, led me here by force.” So he spoke, and the strong and mighty Telemachus heard him, 355 and quickly spoke to his father, who was near: “Stay your hand, and do not wound this guiltless man with the sword. Yes, and let us save also the herald, Medon, who always cared for me in our house, when I was a child—unless perhaps Philoetius has already slain him, or the swineherd, 360 or he met you as you raged through the house.” So he spoke, and Medon, wise of heart, heard him, for he lay crouching beneath a chair, and had clothed himself in the skin of an ox, newly flayed, seeking to avoid black fate. At once he rose from beneath the chair and stripped off the ox-hide, 365 and then rushed forward and clasped Telemachus by the knees, and made entreaty to him, and spoke winged words: “Friend, here I am; stay your hand and tell your father to stay his, lest in the greatness of his might he harm me with the sharp bronze in his wrath against the suitors, who wasted his 370 possessions in the halls, and in their folly did not honor you at all.” But Odysseus of many wiles smiled, and said to him: “Be of good cheer, for he has delivered you and saved you, that you may know in your heart and tell also to another, how far better is the doing of good deeds than of evil. 375 But go forth from the halls and sit down outside in the court away from the slaughter, you and the minstrel of many songs, till I have finished all that I must do in the house.” So he spoke, and the two went their way forth from the hall and sat down by the altar of great Zeus, 380 gazing about on every side, always expecting death. And Odysseus too gazed about all through his house to see if any man still lived, and was hiding there, seeking to avoid black fate. But he found them one and all fallen in the blood and dust—all the host of them, like fishes that fishermen 385 have drawn forth in the meshes of their net from the grey sea upon the curving beach, and they all lie heaped upon the sand, longing for the waves of the sea, and the bright sun takes away their life; even so now the suitors lay heaped upon each other. 390 Then Odysseus of many wiles spoke to Telemachus: “Telemachus, go call me the nurse Eurycleia, that I may tell her the word that is in my mind.” So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father, and shaking the door said to Eurycleia: 395 “Get up and come here, old woman, who have charge of all our woman servants in the halls. Come, my father calls you, that he may tell you something.” So he spoke, but her word remained unwinged; she opened the doors of the stately hall, 400 and came forth, and Telemachus led the way before her. There she found Odysseus amid the bodies of the slain, all befouled with blood and filth, like a lion that comes from feeding on an ox of the farmstead, and all his breast and his cheeks on either side 405 are stained with blood, and he is terrible to look upon; even so was Odysseus befouled, his feet and his hands above. But she, when she beheld the corpses and the great welter of blood, made ready to utter loud cries of joy, seeing what a deed had been done. But Odysseus stayed and checked her in her eagerness, 410 and spoke and addressed her with winged words: “In your own heart rejoice, old woman, but restrain yourself and do not cry out aloud: an unholy thing it is to boast over slain men. These men here has the fate of the gods destroyed and their own reckless deeds, for they honored no one of men upon the earth, 415 whether he was evil or good, whoever came among them; so by their wanton folly they brought on themselves a shameful death. But come, name to me the women in the halls, which ones dishonor me and which are guiltless.” Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered him: 420 “Then truly, my child, I will tell you all the truth. Fifty women servants you have in the halls, women that we have taught to do their work, to card the wool and bear the lot of slaves. Of these twelve in all have set their feet in the way of shamelessness, 425 and do not regard me nor Penelope herself. And Telemachus is but newly grown to manhood, and his mother would not allow him to rule over the women servants. But come, let me go up to the bright upper chamber and bear word to your wife, on whom some god has sent sleep.” 430 Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Do not wake her yet, but tell the women to come here, who in time past have contrived shameful deeds.” So he spoke, and the old woman went forth through the hall to bear tidings to the women, and tell them to come; 435 but Odysseus called to him Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd, and spoke to them winged words: “Begin now to bear forth the dead bodies and order the women to help you, and thereafter cleanse the beautiful chairs and the tables with water and porous sponges. 440 But when you have set all the house in order, lead the women forth from the well-built hall to a place between the dome and the fine fence of the court, and there strike them down with your long swords, until you take away the life from them all, and they forget the love 445 which they had at the bidding of the suitors, when they lay with them in secret.” So he spoke, and the women came all in a throng, wailing terribly and shedding big tears. First they bore forth the bodies of the slain and set them down beneath the portico of the well-fenced court, 450 propping them one against the other; and Odysseus himself gave them orders and hastened on the work, and they bore the bodies forth of necessity. Then they cleansed the beautiful high seats and the tables with water and porous sponges. But Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd 455 scraped with hoes the floor of the well-built house, and the women bore the scrapings forth and threw them out of doors. But when they had set in order all the hall, they led the women forth from the well-built hall to a place between the dome and the fine fence of the court, 460 and shut them up in a narrow space, from which it was in no way possible to escape. Then wise Telemachus was the first to speak to the others, saying: “Let it be by no clean death that I take the lives of these women, who on my own head have poured reproaches and on my mother, and used to lie with the suitors.” 465 So he spoke, and tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship to a great pillar and flung it round the dome, stretching it on high that none might reach the ground with her feet. And as when long-winged thrushes or doves fall into a snare that is set in a thicket, 470 as they seek to reach their resting-place, and hateful is the bed that gives them welcome, even so the women held their heads in a row, and round the necks of all nooses were laid, that they might die most piteously. And they writhed a little while with their feet, but not long. Then forth they led Melanthius through the doorway and the court, 475 and cut off his nostrils and his ears with the pitiless bronze, and drew out his vitals for the dogs to eat raw, and cut off his hands and his feet in their furious wrath. Thereafter they washed their hands and feet, and went into the house to Odysseus, and the work was done. 480 But Odysseus said to the dear nurse Eurycleia: “Bring sulphur, old woman, to cleanse from pollution, and bring me fire, that I may purge the hall; and tell Penelope to come here with her handmaidens, and order all the women in the house to come.” 485 Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered him: “Yes, all this, my child, you have spoken rightly. But come, let me bring you a cloak and a tunic for clothing, and do not stand like this in the halls with your broad shoulders wrapped in rags; that would be a cause for blame.” 490 Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “First of all let a fire now be made for me in the hall.” So he spoke, and the dear nurse Eurycleia did not disobey, but brought fire and sulphur; but Odysseus thoroughly purged the hall and the house and the court. 495 Then the old woman went back through the fair house of Odysseus to bear tidings to the women and tell them to come; and they came forth from their hall with torches in their hands. They thronged about Odysseus and embraced him, and clasped and kissed his head and shoulders 500 and his hands in loving welcome; and a sweet longing seized him to weep and wail, for in his heart he knew them all.
23Then the old woman went up to the upper chamber, laughing aloud, to tell her mistress that her dear husband was in the house. Her knees moved nimbly, but her feet trotted along beneath her; and she stood above her lady's head, and spoke to her, and said: 5 “Wake up, Penelope, dear child, so that with your own eyes you may see what you have desired all your days. Odysseus is here, and has come home, late though his coming has been, and has slain the proud suitors who troubled his house, and devoured his substance, and oppressed his son.” 10 Then wise Penelope answered her: “Dear nurse, the gods have made you mad, they who can make foolish even one who is very wise, and set the simple-minded in the paths of understanding; it is they that have marred your wits, though before this you were sound of mind. 15 Why do you mock me, who have a heart full of sorrow, to tell me this wild tale, and rouse me out of slumber, the sweet slumber that bound me and enfolded my eyelids? For never yet have I slept so sound since the day when Odysseus went forth to see evil Ilios that should not be named. 20 No, come now, go down and back to the women's hall, for if any other of the women that are mine had come and told me this, and had roused me out of sleep, I would at once have sent her back in sorry fashion to return again to the hall, but to you old age shall bring this profit.” 25 Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered her: “I do not mock you, dear child, but in very truth Odysseus is here, and has come home, just as I tell you. He is that stranger to whom all men did dishonor in the halls. But Telemachus long ago knew that he was here, 30 yet in his prudence he hid the purpose of his father, till he should take vengeance on the violence of overweening men.” So she spoke, and Penelope was glad, and she leapt from her bed and flung her arms about the old woman and let the tears fall from her eyelids; and she spoke, and addressed her with winged words: 35 “Come now, dear nurse, I beg you tell me truly, if he has indeed come home, as you say, how he put forth his hands upon the shameless suitors, all alone as he was, while they remained always in a body in the house.” Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered her: 40 “I did not see, I did not ask; only I heard the groaning of men that were being slain. As for us women, we sat terror-stricken in the innermost part of our well-built chambers, and the close-fitting doors shut us in, until the hour when your son Telemachus called me from the hall, for his father had sent him forth to call me. 45 Then I found Odysseus standing among the bodies of the slain, and they, stretched all around him on the hard floor, lay one upon the other; the sight would have warmed your heart with cheer. And now the bodies are all gathered together at the gates of the court, 50 but he is purging the fair house with sulphur, and has kindled a great fire, and sent me forth to call you. Come, then, with me, so that the hearts of you two may enter into joy, for you have suffered many woes. But now at length has this long desire of yours been fulfilled: 55 he has come himself, alive to his own hearth, and he has found both you and his son in the halls; while as for those, the suitors, who did him evil, on them he has taken vengeance one and all in his house.” Then wise Penelope answered her: “Dear nurse, do not boast loudly over them yet with laughter. 60 You know how welcome the sight of him in the halls would be to all, but above all to me and to his son, born of us two. But this is no true tale, as you tell it; no, some one of the immortals has slain the lordly suitors in wrath at their grievous insolence and their evil deeds. 65 For they honored no one among men upon the earth, whether he was evil or good, whoever came among them; therefore it is through their own wanton folly that they have suffered evil. But Odysseus far away has lost his return to the land of Achaea, and is lost himself.” Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered her: 70 “My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth, in that you said that your husband, who even now is here, at his own hearth, would never more return! Your heart is always unbelieving. Come, then, I will tell you a clear sign besides, the scar of the wound which long ago the boar dealt him with his white tusk. 75 This I noticed while I washed his feet, and I wanted to tell it to you as well, but he laid his hand upon my mouth, and in the great wisdom of his heart would not allow me to speak. So come with me; and I will set my very life at stake that, if I deceive you, you may slay me by a most pitiful death.” 80 Then wise Penelope answered her: “Dear nurse, it is hard for you to comprehend the counsels of the gods that are forever, however wise you are. Nevertheless let us go to my son, so that I may see the suitors dead and him that slew them.” 85 So saying, she went down from the upper chamber, and much her heart pondered whether she should stand apart and question her dear husband, or whether she should go up to him, and clasp and kiss his head and hands. But when she had come in and had passed over the stone threshold, she sat down opposite Odysseus in the light of the fire 90 beside the further wall; but he was sitting by a tall pillar, looking down, and waiting to see whether his noble wife would say anything to him, when her eyes beheld him. But she sat long in silence, and amazement came upon her soul; and now with her eyes she would look full upon his face, and now again 95 she would fail to know him, because he had mean clothing on him. But Telemachus rebuked her, and spoke, and addressed her: “My mother, cruel mother, who have an unyielding heart, why do you hold back from my father like this, and do not sit by his side and ask and question him? 100 No other woman would harden her heart as you do, and stand apart from her husband, who after many grievous toils had come back to her in the twentieth year to his native land: but your heart is always harder than stone.” Then wise Penelope answered him: 105 “My child, the heart in my breast is lost in wonder, and I have no power to speak at all, nor to ask a question, nor to look him in the face. But if in very truth he is Odysseus, and has come home, we two shall surely know one another more certainly; 110 for we have signs which we two alone know, signs hidden from others.” So she spoke, and the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus smiled, and at once spoke to Telemachus winged words: “Telemachus, allow your mother now to test me in the halls; soon she will win more certain knowledge. 115 But now because I am filthy, and am clad about my body in mean clothing, she scorns me, and will not yet admit that I am he. But as for us, let us take thought how all may be the very best. For whoever has slain but one man in a land, even though it is a man that does not leave many behind to avenge him, 120 he goes into exile, and leaves his kindred and his native land; but we have slain those who were the very stay of the city, far the noblest of the youths of Ithaca. I bid you take thought of this.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Look to this yourself, dear father; for your 125 counsel, they say, is the best among men, nor could any other of mortal men rival you. As for us, we will follow with you eagerly, nor, I think, shall we be lacking in valor, so far as we have strength.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him and said: 130 “Then I will tell you what seems to me to be the best way. First bathe yourselves, and put on your tunics, and tell the handmaids in the halls to take their clothing. But let the divine minstrel with his clear-toned lyre in hand be our leader in the joyful dance, 135 so that any man who hears the sound from outside, whether a passer-by or one of those who dwell around, may say that it is a wedding feast; and so the rumor of the slaying of the suitors shall not be spread abroad throughout the city before we go forth to our well-wooded farm. There 140 we shall afterwards devise whatever advantage the Olympian may grant us.” So he spoke, and they all readily listened and obeyed. First they bathed and put on their tunics, and the women arrayed themselves, and the divine minstrel took the hollow lyre and aroused in them the desire 145 for sweet song and noble dance. So the great hall resounded all about with the tread of dancing men and of fair-girdled women; and thus would one speak who heard the noise from outside the house: “Surely some one has wedded the queen wooed by many. 150 Cruel she was, nor had she the heart to keep the great house of her wedded husband to the end, until he should come.” So they would say, but they did not know how these things were. Meanwhile the housekeeper Eurynome bathed the great-hearted Odysseus in his house, and anointed him with oil, 155 and cast about him a fair cloak and a tunic; and over his head Athena shed abundant beauty, making him taller to look upon and mightier, and from his head she made locks to flow in curls like the hyacinth flower. And as when a man overlays silver with gold, 160 a skillful workman whom Hephaestus and Pallas Athena have taught every kind of craft, and full of grace is the work he produces, even so the goddess shed grace on his head and shoulders, and forth from the bath he came, in form like the immortals. Then he sat down again on the chair from which he had risen, 165 opposite his wife; and he spoke to her and said: “Strange lady! to you beyond all women have the dwellers on Olympus given a heart that cannot be softened. No other woman would harden her heart as you do, and stand apart from her husband who after many grievous toils 170 had come to her in the twentieth year to his native land. Come, then, nurse, spread me a bed, so that all alone I may lie down, for truly the heart in her breast is of iron.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Strange sir, I am neither in any way proud, nor do I scorn you, 175 nor yet am I too greatly amazed, but very well do I know what kind of man you were, when you went forth from Ithaca on your long-oared ship. Yet come, Eurycleia, spread for him the stout bedstead outside the well-built bridal chamber which he made himself. Bring the stout bedstead out there for him, and cast upon it bedding, 180 fleeces and cloaks and bright coverlets.” So she spoke, and made trial of her husband. But Odysseus, in a burst of anger, spoke to his true-hearted wife, and said: “Woman, truly this is a bitter word that you have spoken. Who has set my bed elsewhere? Hard would it be for one, 185 however skilled, unless a god himself should come and easily by his will set it in another place. But of men there is no mortal that lives, however young and strong, who could easily pry it from its place, for a great token is wrought in the fashioned bed, and it was I that built it and no one else. 190 A bush of long-leafed olive was growing within the court, strong and vigorous, and in girth it was like a pillar. Around this I built my chamber, till I had finished it, with close-set stones, and I roofed it over well, and added to it jointed doors, close-fitting. 195 After that I cut away the leafy branches of the long-leafed olive, and, trimming the trunk from the root, I smoothed it around with the adze well and skillfully, and made it straight to the line, thus fashioning the bed-post; and I bored it all with the auger. Beginning with this I hewed out my bed, till I had finished it, 200 inlaying it with gold and silver and ivory, and I stretched on it a thong of ox-hide, bright with purple. Thus I declare this token to you; but I do not know, woman, whether my bedstead is still fast in its place, or whether by now some man has cut from beneath the olive stump, and set the bedstead elsewhere.” 205 So he spoke, and her knees were loosened where she sat, and her heart melted, as she knew the sure tokens which Odysseus told her. Then with a burst of tears she ran straight toward him, and flung her arms about the neck of Odysseus, and kissed his head, and spoke, saying: “Do not be angry with me, Odysseus, for in all else 210 you were always the wisest of men. It is the gods that gave us sorrow, the gods who begrudged that we two should remain with each other and enjoy our youth, and come to the threshold of old age. But do not now be angry with me for this, nor full of indignation, because at the first, when I saw you, I did not welcome you like this. 215 For always the heart in my breast was full of dread, lest some man should come and beguile me with his words; for there are many that plan devices of evil. Why, even Argive Helen, daughter of Zeus, would not have lain in love with a man of another people, 220 had she known that the warlike sons of the Achaeans were to bring her home again to her dear native land. Yet truly in her case a god prompted her to do a shameful deed; nor until then did she lay up in her mind the thought of that folly, the grievous folly from which at the first sorrow came upon us too. 225 But now, since you have told the clear tokens of our bed, which no other mortal has ever seen except you and me alone and one single handmaid, the daughter of Actor, whom my father gave me before ever I came here, the one who kept the doors of our strong bridal chamber, 230 see, you convince my heart, unbending as it is.” So she spoke, and in his heart aroused yet more the desire for lamentation; and he wept, holding in his arms his dear and true-hearted wife. And welcome as is the sight of land to men that swim, whose well-built ship Poseidon 235 has struck on the sea as it was driven on by the wind and the swollen wave, and only a few have made their escape from the gray sea to the shore by swimming, and thickly are their bodies crusted with brine, and gladly have they set foot on the land and escaped from their evil plight; even so welcome to her was her husband, as she gazed upon him, 240 and from his neck she could in no way let her white arms go. And now the rosy-fingered Dawn would have risen upon their weeping, had not the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, taken other counsel. The long night she held back at the end of its course, and likewise stayed the golden-throned Dawn at the streams of Oceanus, and would not allow her 245 to yoke her swift-footed horses that bring light to men, Lampus and Phaethon, who are the colts that bear the Dawn. Then to his wife said Odysseus of many wiles: “Wife, we have not yet come to the end of all our trials, but still hereafter there is to be measureless toil, 250 long and hard, which I must fulfil to the end; for so did the spirit of Teiresias foretell to me on the day when I went down into the house of Hades to inquire about the return of my comrades and myself. But come, wife, let us go to bed, so that 255 lulled now by sweet slumber we may take our joy of rest.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Your bed shall be ready for you whenever your heart desires it, since the gods have indeed caused you to come back to your well-built house and your native land. 260 But since you have thought of this, and a god has put it into your heart, come, tell me of this trial, for in time to come, I think, I shall learn of it, and to know it at once is no worse.” And Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Strange lady! why do you now so urgently bid me 265 tell you? Yet I will declare it, and will hide nothing. Truly your heart shall have no joy of it, just as I myself have none; for Teiresias told me to go forth to very many cities of men, bearing a shapely oar in my hands, till I should come 270 to men that know nothing of the sea, and do not eat food mingled with salt; yes, and they know nothing of ships with purple cheeks, or of shapely oars that serve as wings to ships. And he told me this sign, very clear; nor will I hide it from you. When another wayfarer, on meeting me, 275 should say that I had a winnowing fan on my stout shoulder, then he told me to fix my oar in the earth, and make fine offerings to lord Poseidon—a ram and a bull and a boar, that mates with sows—and depart for my home, and offer sacred hecatombs 280 to the immortal gods, who hold broad heaven, to each one in due order. And death shall come to me myself far from the sea, a death so gentle, that shall lay me low, when I am overcome with sleek old age, and my people shall dwell in prosperity around me. All this, he said, I should see fulfilled.” 285 Then wise Penelope answered him: “If the gods are indeed to bring about a happier old age for you, there is hope then that you will find an escape from evil.” Thus they spoke to one another; and meanwhile Eurynome and the nurse made ready the bed 290 of soft coverlets by the light of blazing torches. But when they had busily spread the stout-built bedstead, the old nurse went back to her chamber to lie down, and Eurynome, the maid of the bedchamber, led them on their way to the bed with a torch in her hands; 295 and when she had led them to the bridal chamber, she went back. And they then gladly came to the place of the bed that was theirs of old. But Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd stopped their feet from dancing, and stopped the women, and themselves lay down to sleep throughout the shadowy halls. 300 But when the two had had their fill of the joy of love, they took delight in tales, speaking each to the other. She, the fair lady, told of all that she had endured in the halls, looking upon the destructive throng of the suitors, who for her sake 305 slew many beasts, cattle and fine sheep; and a great store of wine was drawn from the jars. But Zeus-born Odysseus recounted all the woes that he had brought on men, and all the toil that in his sorrow he had himself endured, and she was glad to listen, nor did sweet sleep fall upon her eyelids, till he had told all the tale. 310 He began by telling how at the first he overcame the Cicones, and then came to the rich land of the Lotus-eaters, and all that the Cyclops did, and how he made him pay the price for his mighty comrades, whom the Cyclops had eaten, and had shown no pity. Then how he came to Aeolus, who received him with a ready heart, 315 and sent him on his way; but it was not yet his fate to come to his dear native land, no, the storm-wind caught him up again, and bore him over the teeming deep, groaning heavily. Next how he came to Telepylus of the Laestrygonians, who destroyed his ships and his well-greaved comrades 320 one and all, and Odysseus alone escaped in his black ship. Then he told of all the wiles and craftiness of Circe, and how in his benched ship he had gone to the dank house of Hades to consult the spirit of Theban Teiresias, and had seen all his comrades 325 and the mother who bore him and nursed him, when a child. And how he heard the voice of the Sirens, who sing unceasingly, and had come to the Wandering Rocks, and to dread Charybdis, and to Scylla, from whom never yet had men escaped unscathed. Then how his comrades slew the cattle of Helios, 330 and how Zeus, who thunders on high, struck his swift ship with a flaming thunderbolt, and his noble comrades perished all together, while he alone escaped the evil fates. And how he came to the isle Ogygia and to the nymph Calypso, who kept him there 335 in her hollow caves, yearning that he should be her husband, and tended him, and said that she would make him immortal and ageless all his days; yet she could never persuade the heart in his breast. Then how he came after many toils to the Phaeacians, who heartily showed him all honor, as if he were a god, 340 and sent him in a ship to his dear native land, after giving him stores of bronze and gold and clothing. This was the end of the tale he told, when sweet sleep, that loosens the limbs of men, leapt upon him, loosening the cares of his heart. Then again the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, took other counsel. 345 When she judged that the heart of Odysseus had had its fill of love with his wife and of sleep, at once she roused from Oceanus golden-throned Dawn to bring light to men; and Odysseus rose from his soft bed, and gave charge to his wife, saying: 350 “Wife, by now we have had our fill of many trials, you and I, you here, mourning over my troubled journey home, while as for me, Zeus and the other gods bound me fast in sorrows far from my native land, all eager as I was to return. But now that we have both come to the bed of our desire, 355 care for the wealth that I have within the halls; as for the flocks which the insolent suitors have wasted, I shall myself get many as booty, and others the Achaeans will give, until they fill all my folds; but I will go to my well-wooded farm 360 to see my noble father, who for my sake is deeply distressed, and on you, wife, I lay this charge, wise though you are. At once at the rising of the sun report will go abroad about the suitors whom I slew in the halls. Therefore go up to your upper chamber with your handmaids, 365 and stay there. Look at no man, nor ask a question.” He spoke, and girded about his shoulders his beautiful armour, and roused Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd, and told them all to take weapons of war in their hands. They did not disobey, but clad themselves in bronze, 370 and opened the doors, and went forth, and Odysseus led the way. By now there was light over the earth, but Athena hid them in night, and swiftly led them forth from the city.
24Meanwhile Cyllenian Hermes called forth the spirits of the suitors. He held in his hands his wand, a fair wand of gold, with which he lulls to sleep the eyes of whom he will, while others again he wakens even out of slumber; 5 with this he roused and led the spirits, and they followed gibbering. And as in the innermost recess of a wondrous cave bats flit about gibbering, when one has fallen from off the rock from the chain in which they cling to one another, so these went with him gibbering, and 10 Hermes, the Helper, led them down the dank ways. Past the streams of Oceanus they went, past the rock Leucas, past the gates of the sun and the land of dreams, and quickly came to the meadow of asphodel, where the spirits dwell, phantoms of men who have done with toils. 15 Here they found the spirit of Achilles, son of Peleus, and those of Patroclus, of peerless Antilochus, and of Aias, who in beauty and form was the finest of all the Danaans after the peerless son of Peleus. So these were thronging about Achilles, and near to them 20 drew the spirit of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, sorrowing; and round about him others were gathered, the spirits of all those who were slain with him in the house of Aegisthus, and met their fate. And the spirit of the son of Peleus was first to address him, saying: “Son of Atreus, we thought that you 25 above all other heroes were all your days dear to Zeus, who hurls the thunderbolt, because you were lord over many mighty men in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered woes. But truly on you too was deadly doom to come all too early, the doom that not one avoids of those who are born. 30 Ah, would that in the pride of that honor of which you were master you had met death and fate in the land of the Trojans. Then would the whole host of the Achaeans have made you a tomb, and for your son too you would have won great glory in days to come; but now, as it seems, it has been decreed that you should be cut off by a most piteous death.” 35 Then the spirit of the son of Atreus answered him: “Fortunate son of Peleus, godlike Achilles, who were slain in the land of Troy far from Argos, and about you others fell, the best of the sons of the Trojans and Achaeans, fighting for your body; and you in the whirl of dust 40 lay mighty in your mightiness, forgetful of your horsemanship. We on our part strove the whole day long, nor should we ever have stopped from the fight, had not Zeus stopped us with a storm. But after we had borne you to the ships out of the fight, we laid you on a bier, and cleansed your fair flesh 45 with warm water and with ointment, and many hot tears did the Danaans shed around you, and they cut off their hair. And your mother came forth from the sea with the immortal sea-nymphs, when she heard the news, and a wondrous cry arose over the deep, and at this trembling laid hold of all the Achaeans. 50 Then would they all have sprung up and rushed to the hollow ships, had not a man, wise in the wisdom of old, stopped them, Nestor, whose counsel had before appeared the best. He with good intent addressed their assembly, and said: “‘Hold, Argives; do not flee, Achaean youths. 55 It is his mother who comes here forth from the sea with the immortal sea-nymphs to look upon the face of her dead son.’ “So he spoke, and the great-hearted Achaeans ceased from their flight. Then around you stood the daughters of the old man of the sea wailing piteously, and they clothed you about with immortal garments. 60 And the Muses, nine in all, replying to one another with sweet voices, led the dirge. There you could not have seen an Argive who was not in tears, so deeply did the clear-toned Muse move their hearts. Thus for seventeen days alike by night and day did we bewail you, immortal gods and mortal men, 65 and on the eighteenth we gave you to the fire, and many well-fatted sheep we slew around you and sleek cattle. So you were burned in the garments of the gods and in abundance of unguents and sweet honey; and many Achaean warriors moved in their armour about the pyre, while you were burning, 70 both footmen and charioteers, and a great din arose. But when the flame of Hephaestus had made an end of you, in the morning we gathered your white bones, Achilles, and laid them in unmixed wine and unguents. Your mother had given a two-handled, golden urn, and 75 said that it was the gift of Dionysus, and the handiwork of famed Hephaestus. In this lie your white bones, glorious Achilles, and mingled with them the bones of the dead Patroclus, son of Menoetius, but apart lie those of Antilochus, whom you honored above all the rest of your comrades after the dead Patroclus. 80 And over them we heaped up a great and noble tomb, we the mighty host of Argive spearmen, on a projecting headland by the broad Hellespont, that it might be seen from far over the sea both by men that now are and that shall be born hereafter. 85 But your mother asked of the gods beautiful prizes, and set them in the midst of the lists for the chiefs of the Achaeans. Before now you have been present at the funeral games of many men that were warriors, when at the death of a king the young men gird themselves and make ready the contests, 90 but had you seen that sight you would most have marvelled at heart, such beautiful prizes did the goddess, silver-footed Thetis, set there in your honor; for very dear were you to the gods. Thus not even in death did you lose your name, but always shall you have fair renown among all men, Achilles. 95 But, as for me, what pleasure have I now in this, that I wound up the skein of war? For on my return Zeus devised for me a woeful doom at the hands of Aegisthus and my accursed wife.” Thus they spoke to one another, but the messenger, Argeiphontes, drew near, 100 leading down the spirits of the suitors slain by Odysseus; and the two, seized with wonder, went straight toward them when they beheld them. And the spirit of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, recognized the dear son of Melaneus, glorious Amphimedon, who had been his host, dwelling in Ithaca. 105 Then the spirit of the son of Atreus spoke first to him and said “Amphimedon, what has befallen you that you have come down beneath the dark earth, all of you picked men and of like age? One would make no other choice, were one to pick the best men in a city. Did Poseidon strike you on board your ships, 110 when he had roused cruel winds and long waves? Or did foemen work you harm on the land, while you were cutting off their cattle and fair flocks of sheep, or while they fought in defence of their city and their women? Tell me what I ask; for I declare that I am a friend of your house. 115 Do you not remember when I came there to your house with godlike Menelaus to urge Odysseus to go with us to Ilios on the benched ships? A full month it took us to cross all the wide sea, for hardly could we win to our will Odysseus, the sacker of cities.” 120 Then the spirit of Amphimedon answered him, and said: “Most glorious son of Atreus, king of men, Agamemnon, I remember all these things, O you fostered of Zeus, just as you tell them; and on my part I will frankly tell you all the truth, how for us an evil end of death was wrought. 125 We wooed the wife of Odysseus, who had long been gone, and she neither refused the hateful marriage, nor would she ever make an end, devising for us death and black fate. Indeed, she contrived in her heart this guileful thing also: she set up in her halls a great web, and began weaving— 130 fine of thread was the web and very wide; and at once she spoke among us: “‘Young men, my suitors, since goodly Odysseus is dead, be patient, though eager for my marriage, until I finish this robe—I would not wish my spinning to come to nothing—a shroud for the lord Laertes against the time when 135 the cruel fate of grievous death shall strike him down; lest any of the Achaean women in the land should be angry at me, if he were to lie without a shroud, who had won great possessions.’ “So she spoke, and our proud hearts consented. Then day by day she would weave at the great web, 140 but by night would unravel it, when she had had torches placed by her. Thus for three years she by her craft kept the Achaeans from knowing, and beguiled them; but when the fourth year came, as the seasons rolled on, as the months waned and many days were brought in their course, even then one of her women who knew all, told us, 145 and we caught her unravelling the splendid web. So she finished it against her will, by force. “Now when she had shown us the robe, after weaving the great web and washing it, and it shone like the sun or the moon, then it was that some cruel god brought Odysseus from somewhere 150 to the border of the land, where the swineherd dwelt. There too came the dear son of divine Odysseus on his return from sandy Pylos in his black ship, and these two, when they had planned an evil death for the suitors, came to the famous city, Odysseus indeed 155 later, but Telemachus led the way before him. Now the swineherd brought his master, clad in poor clothing, in the likeness of a woeful and aged beggar, leaning on a staff, and miserable was the clothing that he wore about his body; and not one of us could know that it was he, 160 when he appeared so suddenly, no, not even those that were older men, but we assailed him with evil words and with missiles. Yet he with steadfast heart endured for a time to be pelted and taunted in his own halls; but when at last the will of Zeus, who bears the aegis, roused him, 165 with the help of Telemachus he took all the beautiful arms and laid them away in the store-room and made fast the bolts. Then in his great cunning he told his wife to set before the suitors his bow and the grey iron to be a contest for us ill-fated men and the beginning of death. 170 And no man of us was able to stretch the string of the mighty bow; no, we fell far short of that strength. But when the great bow came to the hands of Odysseus, then we all cried out aloud not to give him the bow, however much he might speak; 175 but Telemachus alone urged him on, and told him to take it. Then he took the bow in his hand, the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus, and with ease did he string it and send an arrow through the iron. Then he went and stood on the threshold, and poured out the swift arrows, glaring about him terribly, and struck king Antinous. 180 And after that upon the others he with sure aim let fly his shafts, fraught with groanings, and the men fell thick and fast. Then was it known that some god was their helper; for at once rushing on through the halls in their fury they slew men left and right, and from them rose hideous groaning, 185 as heads were struck, and all the floor swam with blood. Thus we perished, Agamemnon, and even now our bodies still lie uncared-for in the halls of Odysseus; for our friends in each man's home know nothing as yet—our friends who might wash the black blood from our wounds 190 and lay our bodies out with wailing; for that is the due of the dead.” Then the spirit of the son of Atreus answered him: “Happy son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices, in truth full of all excellence was the wife you won, so good of understanding was peerless Penelope, 195 daughter of Icarius, in that she was loyally mindful of Odysseus, her wedded husband. Therefore the fame of her virtue shall never perish, but the immortals shall make among men on earth a pleasant song in honor of constant Penelope. Not in this way did the daughter of Tyndareus devise evil deeds 200 and slay her wedded husband, and hateful shall the song regarding her be among men, and evil repute does she bring upon all womankind, even upon her that does right.” Thus the two spoke to one another, as they stood in the house of Hades beneath the depths of the earth. 205 But Odysseus and his men, when they had gone down from the city, quickly came to the fair and well-ordered farm of Laertes, which he had won for himself in days past, and much had he toiled for it. There was his house, and all about it ran the sheds in which ate, and sat, and slept 210 the servants that were bondsmen, that did his pleasure; but within it was an old Sicilian woman, who tended the old man with kindly care there at the farm, far from the city. Then Odysseus spoke to the servants and to his son, saying: “Now go within the well-built house, 215 and at once slay for dinner the best of the swine; but I will make trial of my father, and see whether he will recognize me and know me by sight, or whether he will fail to know me, since I have been gone so long a time.” So saying, he gave to the slaves his battle-gear. 220 They then went quickly to the house; but Odysseus drew near to the fruitful vineyard in his quest. Now he did not find Dolius as he went down into the great orchard, nor any of his slaves or of his sons, but as it chanced 225 they had gone to gather stones for the vineyard wall, and the old man was their leader. But he found his father alone in the well-ordered vineyard, digging about a plant; and he was clothed in a foul tunic, patched and wretched, and about his shins he had bound stitched greaves of ox-hide to guard against scratches, 230 and he wore gloves upon his hands because of the thorns, and on his head a goatskin cap; and he nursed his sorrow. Now when the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus saw him, worn with old age and laden with great grief at heart, he stood still beneath a tall pear tree, and shed tears. 235 Then he debated in mind and heart whether to kiss and embrace his father, and tell him all, how he had returned and come to his native land, or whether he should first question him, and test him in each thing. And, as he pondered, this seemed to him the better course, 240 to test him first with mocking words. So with this in mind the goodly Odysseus went straight toward him. He indeed was holding his head down, digging about a plant, and his glorious son came up to him, and addressed him, saying: “Old man, you have no lack of skill to tend 245 a garden; no, your care is good, and there is nothing whatever, either plant or fig tree, or vine, no, or olive, or pear, or garden-plot in all the field that lacks care. But another thing I will tell you, and do not lay up anger at it in your heart: you yourself enjoy no good care, but 250 you bear woeful old age, and with it are foul and unkempt, and clad in poor clothing. Surely it is not because of sloth on your part that your master does not care for you, nor do you seem in any way like a slave to look upon either in form or in stature; for you are like a king, like one who, when he has bathed and eaten, 255 should sleep soft; for this is the way of old men. But come, tell me this, and declare it truly. Whose slave are you, and whose orchard do you tend? And tell me this also truly, that I may know full well, whether this is indeed Ithaca, to which we have now come, as 260 a man over there told me, who met me just now on my way here. In no way overly sound of wit was he, for he did not deign to tell me of each thing, nor to listen to my word, when I questioned him about a friend of mine, whether perhaps he still lives, or is now dead and in the house of Hades. 265 For I will tell you, and give heed and listen. I once entertained in my dear native land a man that came to our house, and never did any other man of strangers that dwell afar come to my house a more welcome guest. He declared that by lineage he came from Ithaca, and said 270 that his own father was Laertes, son of Arceisius. So I took him to the house and gave him entertainment with kindly welcome of the rich store that was within, and I gave him gifts of friendship, such as are fitting. Of well-wrought gold 275 I gave him seven talents, and a mixing-bowl all of silver, embossed with flowers, and twelve cloaks of single fold, and as many coverlets, and as many fair mantles, and as many tunics besides, and furthermore women, skilled in fine handiwork, four comely women, whom he himself was minded to choose.” 280 Then his father answered him, weeping: “Stranger, truly you have come to the country of which you ask, but wanton and reckless men now possess it. And all in vain did you bestow those gifts, the countless gifts you gave. For if you had found him yet alive in the land of Ithaca, 285 then would he have sent you on your way with ample requital of gifts and good entertainment; for that is the due of him who begins the kindness. But come, tell me this, and declare it truly. How many years have passed since you entertained that guest, that hapless guest, my son—as sure as ever such a man there was— 290 my ill-starred son, whom far from his friends and his native land perhaps the fishes have devoured in the deep, or on the shore he has become the spoil of beasts and birds? Nor did his mother deck him for burial and weep over him, nor his father, we who gave him birth, no, nor did his wife, wooed with many gifts, constant Penelope, 295 bewail her own husband upon the bier, as was fitting, when she had closed his eyes in death; though that is the due of the dead. And tell me this also truly, that I may know full well. Who are you among men, and from where? Where is your city, and where your parents? Where is the swift ship moored that brought you here 300 with your godlike comrades? Or did you come as a passenger on another's ship, and did they depart when they had set you on shore?” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Then truly I will frankly tell you all. I come from Alybas, where I have a glorious house, 305 and I am the son of Apheidas, son of lord Polypemon, and my own name is Eperitus. But a god drove me wandering from Sicania to come here against my will and my ship lies over there off the tilled land away from the city. But as for Odysseus, it is now the fifth year 310 since he went from there, and departed from my country. Hapless man! Yet he had birds of good omen, when he set out, birds upon the right. So I was glad of them, as I sent him on his way, and he went gladly forth, and our hearts hoped that we should yet meet as host and guest and give one another glorious gifts.” 315 So he spoke, and a dark cloud of grief enwrapped Laertes, and with both his hands he took the dark dust and strewed it over his grey head with ceaseless groaning. Then the heart of Odysseus was stirred, and up through his nostrils shot a keen pang, as he beheld his dear father. 320 And he sprang toward him, and clasped him in his arms, and kissed him, saying: “See, father, I here before you, my very self, am that man of whom you ask; I have come in the twentieth year to my native land. But cease from grief and tearful lamenting, for I will tell you all, though great is the need of haste. 325 The suitors I have slain in our halls, and have taken vengeance on their grievous insolence and their evil deeds.” Then Laertes answered him again, and said: “If it is indeed as Odysseus, my son, that you have come here, tell me now some clear sign, that I may be sure.” 330 And Odysseus of many wiles answered him and said: “This scar first note with your eyes, the scar of the wound which a boar dealt me with his white tusk on Parnassus, when I had gone there. It was you that sent me forth, you and my honored mother, to Autolycus, my mother's father, that I might get 335 the gifts which, when he came here, he promised and agreed to give me. And come, I will tell you also the trees in the well-ordered garden which once you gave me, and I, who was but a child, was following you through the garden, and asking you for this and that. It was through these very trees that we passed, and you named them, and told me of each one. 340 Pear-trees thirteen you gave me, and ten apple-trees, and forty fig-trees. And rows of vines too did you promise to give me, just as I say, fifty of them, which ripened each at different times—and upon them are clusters of all sorts—whenever the seasons of Zeus weighed them down from above.” 345 So he spoke, and his father's knees were loosened where he stood, and his heart melted, as he knew the sure tokens which Odysseus told him. About his dear son he flung both his arms, and the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus caught him to himself fainting. But when he revived, and his spirit returned again into his breast, 350 once more he made answer, and spoke, saying: “Father Zeus, truly you gods still hold sway on high Olympus, if indeed the suitors have paid the price of their wanton insolence. But now I have wondrous dread at heart, lest at once all the men of Ithaca come here against us, and 355 send messengers everywhere to the cities of the Cephallenians.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Be of good cheer, and do not let these things distress your heart. But let us go to the house, which lies near the orchard, for there 360 I sent forward Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd, that with all speed they might prepare our meal.” So spoke the two, and went their way to the fine house. And when they had come to the stately house, they found Telemachus, and the cowherd, and the swineherd carving meat in abundance, and mixing the flaming wine. 365 Meanwhile the Sicilian handmaid bathed great-hearted Laertes in his house, and anointed him with oil, and about him cast a fair cloak. But Athena drew near, and made greater the limbs of the shepherd of the people, and made him taller than before and mightier to behold. 370 Then he came forth from the bath, and his dear son marvelled at him, seeing him in presence like the immortal gods. And he spoke, and addressed him with winged words: “Father, surely some one of the gods that are forever has made you finer to behold in beauty and in stature.” 375 Then wise Laertes answered him: “I wish, O father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo, that in such strength as when I took Nericus, the well built citadel on the shore of the mainland, when I was lord of the Cephallenians, in just such strength I had stood by your side yesterday in our house 380 with my armour about my shoulders, and had beaten back the suitors. So should I have loosened the knees of many of them in the halls, and your heart would have been made glad within you.” So they spoke to one another. But when the others had ceased from their labour, and had made ready the meal, 385 they sat down in order on the chairs and high seats. Then they were about to set hands to their food, when the old man Dolius drew near, and with him the old man's sons, wearied from their work in the fields, for their mother, the old Sicilian woman, had gone forth and called them, she who 390 saw to their food, and tended the old man with kindly care, now that old age had laid hold of him. And they, when they saw Odysseus, and noted him in their minds, stood in the halls lost in wonder. But Odysseus addressed them with gentle words, and said: “Old man, sit down to dinner, and all of you wholly forget your wonder, 395 for long have we waited in the halls, though eager to set hands to the food, always expecting your coming.” So he spoke, and Dolius ran straight toward him with both hands outstretched, and he clasped the hand of Odysseus and kissed it on the wrist, and spoke, and addressed him with winged words: 400 “Dear master, since you have come back to us, who greatly longed for you, but had no more thought to see you, and the gods themselves have brought you—hail to you, and all welcome, and may the gods grant you happiness. And tell me this also truly, that I may know full well. Does wise Penelope yet know surely 405 that you have come back here, or shall we send her a messenger?” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said: “Old man, she knows already; why should you be busied with this?” So he spoke, and the other sat down again on the polished chair. And in just the same way the sons of Dolius gathered around glorious Odysseus 410 and greeted him in speech, and clasped his hands. Then they sat down in order beside Dolius, their father. So they were busied with their meal in the halls; but meanwhile Rumor, the messenger, went swiftly throughout all the city, telling of the terrible death and fate of the suitors. 415 And the people heard it all at once, and gathered from every side with moanings and wailings before the palace of Odysseus. Forth from the halls they brought each his dead, and buried them; and those from other cities they sent each to his own home, placing them on swift ships for seamen to bear them, 420 but they themselves went together to the place of assembly, sad at heart. Now when they were assembled and met together Eupeithes arose and spoke among them, for comfortless grief for his son lay heavy on his heart, for Antinous, the first man whom goodly Odysseus had slain. 425 Weeping for him he addressed their assembly and said: “Friends, a monstrous deed has this man in truth devised against the Achaeans. Some he led forth in his ships, many men and noble, and he has lost his hollow ships and utterly lost his men; and others again he has slain on his return, and these by far the best of the Cephallenians. 430 Come then, before the fellow goes swiftly to Pylos or to goodly Elis, where the Epeans hold sway, let us go forth; truly even in days to come shall we be disgraced forever. For a shame is this even for men that are yet to be to hear of, if we shall not 435 take vengeance on the slayers of our sons and our brothers. To me surely life would then no more be sweet; rather would I die at once and be among the dead. No, let us go forth, lest they be too quick for us, and cross over the sea.” So he spoke, weeping, and pity laid hold of all the Achaeans. Then near them came Medon and the divine minstrel 440 from the halls of Odysseus, for sleep had released them; and they took their stand in the midst, and wonder seized every man. Then Medon, wise of heart, spoke among them: “Listen now to me, men of Ithaca, for truly not without the will of the immortal gods has Odysseus devised these deeds. 445 Indeed, I myself saw an immortal god, who stood close beside Odysseus, and seemed in all things like Mentor. Yet as an immortal god now in front of Odysseus he would appear, heartening him, and now again would rage through the hall, scaring the suitors; and they fell thick and fast.” 450 So he spoke, and at this pale fear seized them all. Then among them spoke the old lord Halitherses, son of Mastor, for he alone saw before and after: he with good intent addressed their assembly, and said: “Listen now to me, men of Ithaca, to the word that I shall say. 455 Through your own cowardice, friends, have these deeds been brought to pass, for you would not obey me, nor Mentor, shepherd of the people, to make your sons cease from their folly. They wrought a monstrous deed in their blind and wanton wickedness, wasting the wealth and dishonoring the wife 460 of a prince, who, they said, would never more return. Now then let it be so; and listen to me, as I bid. Let us not go forth, lest perhaps many a one shall find a bane which he has brought upon himself.” So he spoke, but they sprang up with loud cries, more than half of them, but the rest remained together in their seats; 465 for his speech was not to their mind, but they listened to Eupeithes, and quickly after that they rushed for their arms. Then when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze, they gathered together in front of the spacious city. And Eupeithes led them in his folly, 470 for he thought to avenge the slaying of his son; yet he was himself never more to come back, but was there to meet his doom. But Athena spoke to Zeus, son of Cronos, saying: “Father of us all, you son of Cronos, high above all lords, tell me who ask you what purpose your mind now hides within you. 475 Will you yet further bring to pass evil war and the dread din of battle, or will you establish friendship between the two?” Then Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, answered her, and said: “My child, why do you ask and question me of this? Did you not yourself devise this plan, 480 that indeed Odysseus should take vengeance on these men at his coming? Do as you will, but I will tell you what is fitting. Now that goodly Odysseus has taken vengeance on the suitors, let them swear a solemn oath, and let him be king all his days, and let us on our part 485 bring about a forgetting of the slaying of their sons and brothers; and let them love one another as before, and let wealth and peace abound.” So saying, he roused Athena, who was already eager, and she went darting down from the heights of Olympus. But when they had put from them the desire of honey-hearted food, 490 the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus was the first to speak among his company, saying: “Let one go forth and see whether they are not now drawing near.” So he spoke, and a son of Dolius went forth, as he ordered; he went and stood upon the threshold, and saw them all close at hand, and at once he spoke to Odysseus winged words: 495 “Here they are close at hand. Quick, let us arm.” So he spoke, and they rose up and arrayed themselves in armour: Odysseus and his men were four, and six the sons of Dolius, and among them Laertes and Dolius put on their armour, grey-headed though they were, warriors by necessity. 500 But when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze, they opened the doors and went forth, and Odysseus led them. Then Athena, daughter of Zeus, drew near them in the likeness of Mentor both in form and in voice, and the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus was glad at sight of her, 505 and at once spoke to Telemachus, his dear son: “Telemachus, now you shall learn this—having yourself come to the place of battle, where the best warriors are put to the trial—to bring no disgrace upon the house of your fathers, for we have always excelled in strength and in valor over all the earth.” 510 And wise Telemachus answered him: “You shall see me, if you will, dear father, in my present temper, bringing no disgrace upon your house, just as you say.” So said he, and Laertes was glad, and spoke, saying: “What a day is this for me, kind gods! 515 Truly very glad am I: my son and my son's son are vying with one another in valor.” Then flashing-eyed Athena came near him and said: “Son of Arceisius, far the dearest of all my friends, make a prayer to the flashing-eyed maiden and to father Zeus, and then at once raise aloft your long spear, and hurl it.” 520 So spoke Pallas Athena, and breathed into him great might. Then he prayed to the daughter of great Zeus, and at once raised aloft his long spear, and hurled it, and struck Eupeithes through the helmet with cheek-piece of bronze. This did not stop the spear, but the bronze passed through, 525 and he fell with a thud, and his armour clanged about him. Then on the foremost fighters fell Odysseus and his glorious son, and thrust at them with swords and double-pointed spears. And now would they have slain them all, and cut them off from returning, had not Athena, daughter of Zeus, who bears the aegis, 530 shouted aloud, and checked all the host, saying: “Refrain, men of Ithaca, from grievous war, that with all speed you may part, and that without bloodshed.” So spoke Athena, and pale fear seized them. Then in their terror the arms flew from their hands 535 and fell one and all to the ground, as the goddess uttered her voice, and they turned toward the city, eager to save their lives. Terribly then shouted the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus, and gathering himself together he swooped upon them like an eagle of lofty flight, and at that moment the son of Cronos cast a flaming thunderbolt, 540 and down it fell before the flashing-eyed daughter of the mighty sire. Then flashing-eyed Athena spoke to Odysseus saying: “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, stay your hand, and make the strife of equal war cease, lest perhaps the son of Cronos be angry with you, Zeus, whose voice is borne afar.” 545 So spoke Athena, and he obeyed, and was glad at heart. Then for all time to come a solemn covenant between the two was made by Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, who bears the aegis, in the likeness of Mentor both in form and in voice.