{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_1728/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_1728","id":"gutenberg_1728","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1728","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: History - Ancient","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Classical Antiquity","Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English","Harvard Classics","Homer -- Translations into English","Odysseus, King of Ithaca (Mythological character)"],"text":"The Odyssey\n\n\n\nby Homer\n\nDONE INTO ENGLISH PROSE\n\nby\n\nS. H. BUTCHER, M.A.\n_Fellow and Protector of University College, Oxford_\n_Late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge_\n\nAND\n\nA. LANG, M.A.\n_Late Fellow of Merton College, Oxford_\n\n\nContents\n\n\n PREFACE.\n PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.\n INTRODUCTION.\n\n The Odyssey\n BOOK I.\n BOOK II.\n BOOK III.\n BOOK IV.\n BOOK V.\n BOOK VI.\n BOOK VII.\n BOOK VIII.\n BOOK IX.\n BOOK X.\n BOOK XI.\n BOOK XII.\n BOOK XIII.\n BOOK XIV.\n BOOK XV.\n BOOK XVI.\n BOOK XVII.\n BOOK XVIII.\n BOOK XIX.\n BOOK XX.\n BOOK XXI.\n BOOK XXII.\n BOOK XXIII.\n BOOK XXIV.\n\n\n\n\nAs one that for a weary space has lain\n  Lulled by the song of Circe and her wine\n  In gardens near the pale of Proserpine,\nWhere that \u00c6\u00e6an isle forgets the main,\nAnd only the low lutes of love complain,\n  And only shadows of wan lovers pine,\n  As such an one were glad to know the brine\nSalt on his lips, and the large air again,\nSo gladly, from the songs of modern speech\n  Men turn, and see the stars, and feel the free\n    Shrill wind beyond the close of heavy flowers,\n    And through the music of the languid hours\nThey hear like Ocean on a western beach\n  The surge and thunder of the Odyssey.\n\n\nA. L.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\nThere would have been less controversy about the proper method of\nHomeric translation, if critics had recognised that the question is a\npurely relative one, that of Homer there can be no final translation.\nThe taste and the literary habits of each age demand different\nqualities in poetry, and therefore a different sort of rendering of\nHomer. To the men of the time of Elizabeth, Homer would have appeared\nbald, it seems, and lacking in ingenuity, if he had been presented in\nhis antique simplicity. For the Elizabethan age, Chapman supplied what\nwas then necessary, and the mannerisms that were then deemed of the\nessence of poetry, namely, daring and luxurious conceits. Thus in\nChapman\u2019s verse Troy must \u201cshed her towers for tears of overthrow,\u201d and\nwhen the winds toss Odysseus about, their sport must be called \u201cthe\nhorrid tennis.\u201d\n\nIn the age of Anne, \u201cdignity\u201d and \u201ccorrectness\u201d had to be given to\nHomer, and Pope gave them by aid of his dazzling rhetoric, his\nantitheses, his _nettet\u00e9_, his command of every conventional and\nfavourite artifice. Without Chapman\u2019s conceits, Homer\u2019s poems would\nhardly have been what the Elizabethans took for poetry; without Pope\u2019s\nsmoothness, and Pope\u2019s points, the Iliad and Odyssey would have seemed\nrude, and harsh in the age of Anne. These great translations must\nalways live as English poems. As transcripts of Homer they are like\npictures drawn from a lost point of view. _Chaque si\u00e8cle depuis le xvie\na eu de ce c\u00f4t\u00e9 son belv\u00e9der diff\u00e9rent_. Again, when Europe woke to a\nsense, an almost exaggerated and certainly uncritical sense, of the\nvalue of her songs of the people, of all the ballads that Herder,\nScott, Lonnrot, and the rest collected, it was commonly said that Homer\nwas a ballad-minstrel, that the translator must imitate the simplicity,\nand even adopt the formulae of the ballad. Hence came the renderings of\nMaginn, the experiments of Mr. Gladstone, and others. There was some\nexcuse for the error of critics who asked for a Homer in ballad rhyme.\nThe Epic poet, the poet of gods and heroes, did indeed inherit some of\nthe formulae of the earlier _Volks-lied_. Homer, like the author of\n_The Song of Roland_, like the singers of the _Kalevala_, uses\nconstantly recurring epithets, and repeats, word for word, certain\nemphatic passages, messages, and so on. That custom is essential in the\nballad, it is an accident not the essence of the epic. The epic is a\npoem of complete and elaborate art, but it still bears some birthmarks,\nsome signs of the early popular chant, out of which it sprung, as the\ngarden-rose springs from the wild stock, When this is recognised the\ndemand for ballad-like simplicity and \u201cballad-slang\u201d ceases to exist,\nand then all Homeric translations in the ballad manner cease to\nrepresent our conception of Homer. After the belief in the ballad\nmanner follows the recognition of the romantic vein in Homer, and, as a\nresult, came Mr. Worsley\u2019s admirable Odyssey. This masterly translation\ndoes all that can be done for the Odyssey in the romantic style. The\nsmoothness of the verse, the wonderful closeness to the original,\nreproduce all of Homer, in music and in meaning, that can be rendered\nin English verse. There still, however, seems an aspect Homeric poems,\nand a demand in connection with Homer to be recognised, and to be\nsatisfied.\n\nSainte-Beuve says, with reference probably to M. Leconte de Lisle\u2019s\nprose version of the epics, that some people treat the epics too much\nas if they were sagas. Now the Homeric epics are sagas, but then they\nare the sagas of the divine heroic age of Greece, and thus are told\nwith an art which is not the art of the Northern poets. The epics are\nstories about the adventures of men living in most respects like the\nmen of our own race who dwelt in Iceland, Norway, Denmark, and Sweden.\nThe epics are, in a way, and as far as manners and institutions are\nconcerned, historical documents. Whoever regards them in this way, must\nwish to read them exactly as they have reached us, without modern\nornament, with nothing added or omitted. He must recognise, with Mr.\nMatthew Arnold, that what he now wants, namely, the simple truth about\nthe matter of the poem, can only be given in prose, \u201cfor in a verse\ntranslation no original work is any longer recognisable.\u201d It is for\nthis reason that we have attempted to tell once more, in simple prose,\nthe story of Odysseus. We have tried to transfer, not all the truth\nabout the poem, but the historical truth, into English. In this process\nHomer must lose at least half his charm, his bright and equable speed,\nthe musical current of that narrative, which, like the river of Egypt,\nflows from an indiscoverable source, and mirrors the temples and the\npalaces of unforgotten gods and kings. Without this music of verse,\nonly a half truth about Homer can be told, but then it is that half of\nthe truth which, at this moment, it seems most necessary to tell. This\nis the half of the truth that the translators who use verse cannot\neasily tell. They _must_ be adding to Homer, talking with Pope about\n\u201ctracing the mazy lev\u2019ret o\u2019er the lawn,\u201d or with Mr. Worsley about the\nislands that are \u201cstars of the blue Aegaean,\u201d or with Dr. Hawtrey about\n\u201cthe earth\u2019s soft arms,\u201d when Homer says nothing at all about the \u201cmazy\nlev\u2019ret,\u201d or the \u201cstars of the blue Aegaean,\u201d or the \u201csoft arms\u201d of\nearth. It would be impertinent indeed to blame any of these\ntranslations in their place. They give that which the romantic reader\nof poetry, or the student of the age of Anne, looks for in verse; and\nwithout tags of this sort, a translation of Homer in verse cannot well\nbe made to hold together.\n\nThere can be then, it appears, no final English translation of Homer.\nIn each there must be, in addition to what is Greek and eternal, the\nelement of what is modern, personal, and fleeting. Thus we trust that\nthere may be room for \u201cthe pale and far-off shadow of a prose\ntranslation,\u201d of which the aim is limited and humble. A prose\ntranslation cannot give the movement and the fire of a successful\ntranslation in verse; it only gathers, as it were, the crumbs which\nfall from the richer table, only tells the story, without the song. Yet\nto a prose translation is permitted, perhaps, that close adherence to\nthe archaisms of the epic, which in verse become mere oddities. The\ndouble epithets, the recurring epithets of Homer, if rendered into\nverse, delay and puzzle the reader, as the Greek does not delay or\npuzzle him. In prose he may endure them, or even care to study them as\nthe survivals of a stage of taste, which is to be found in its prime in\nthe sagas. These double and recurring epithets of Homer are a softer\nform of the quaint Northern periphrases, which make the sea the \u201cswan\u2019s\nbath,\u201d gold, the \u201cdragon\u2019s hoard,\u201d men, the \u201cring-givers,\u201d and so on.\nWe do not know whether it is necessary to defend our choice of a\nsomewhat antiquated prose. Homer has no ideas which cannot be expressed\nin words that are \u201cold and plain,\u201d and to words that are old and plain,\nand, as a rule, to such terms as, being used by the Translators of the\nBible, are still not unfamiliar, we have tried to restrict ourselves.\nIt may be objected, that the employment of language which does not come\nspontaneously to the lips, is an affectation out of place in a version\nof the Odyssey. To this we may answer that the Greek Epic dialect, like\nthe English of our Bible, was a thing of slow growth and composite\nnature, that it was never a spoken language, nor, except for certain\npoetical purposes, a written language. Thus the Biblical English seems\nas nearly analogous to the Epic Greek, as anything that our tongue has\nto offer.\n\nThe few foot-notes in this book are chiefly intended to make clear some\npassages where there is a choice of reading. The notes at the end,\nwhich we would like to have written in the form of essays, and in\ncompany with more complete philological and archaeological studies, are\nchiefly meant to elucidate the life of Homer\u2019s men.\n\nWe have received much help from many friends, and especially from Mr.\nR. W. Raper, Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford and Mr. Gerald Balfour,\nFellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, who have aided us with many\nsuggestions while the book was passing through the press.\n\nIn the interpretation of B. i. 411, ii. 191, v. 90, and 471, we have\ndeparted from the received view, and followed Mr. Raper, who, however,\nhas not been able to read through the proof-sheets further than Book\nxii.\n\nWe have adopted La Roche\u2019s text (Homeri Odyssea, J. La Roche, Leipzig,\n1867), except in a few cases where we mention our reading in a\nfoot-note.\n\nThe Arguments prefixed to the Books are taken, with very slight\nalterations, from Hobbes\u2019 Translation of the Odyssey.\n\nIt is hoped that the Introduction added to the second edition may\nillustrate the growth of those national legends on which Homer worked,\nand may elucidate the plot of the Odyssey.\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.\n\nWe owe our thanks to the Rev. E. Warre, of Eton College, for certain\ncorrections on nautical points. In particular, he has convinced us that\nthe raft of Odysseus in B. v. is a raft strictly so called, and that it\nis not, under the poet\u2019s description, elaborated into a ship, as has\nbeen commonly supposed. The translation of the passage (B. v. 246-261)\nis accordingly altered.\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\nCOMPOSITION AND PLOT OF THE ODYSSEY.\n\n\nThe _Odyssey_ is generally supposed to be somewhat the later in date of\nthe two most ancient Greek poems which are concerned with the events\nand consequences of the Trojan war. As to the actual history of that\nwar, it may be said that nothing is known. We may conjecture that some\ncontest between peoples of more or less kindred stocks, who occupied\nthe isles and the eastern and western shores of the Aegean, left a\nstrong impression on the popular fancy. Round the memories of this\ncontest would gather many older legends, myths, and stories, not\npeculiarly Greek or even \u201cAryan,\u201d which previously floated unattached,\nor were connected with heroes whose fame was swallowed up by that of a\nnewer generation. It would be the work of minstrels, priests, and\npoets, as the national spirit grew conscious of itself, to shape all\nthese materials into a definite body of tradition. This is the rule of\ndevelopment\u2014first scattered stories, then the union of these into a\n_national_ legend. The growth of later national legends, which we are\nable to trace, historically, has generally come about in this fashion.\nTo take the best known example, we are able to compare the real history\nof Charlemagne with the old epic poems on his life and exploits. In\nthese poems we find that facts are strangely exaggerated, and\ndistorted; that purely fanciful additions are made to the true records,\nthat the more striking events of earlier history are crowded into the\nlegend of Charles, that mere fairy tales, current among African as well\nas European peoples, are transmuted into false history, and that the\nanonymous characters of fairy tales are converted into historical\npersonages. We can also watch the process by which feigned genealogies\nwere constructed, which connected the princely houses of France with\nthe imaginary heroes of the epics. The conclusion is that the poetical\nhistory of Charlemagne has only the faintest relations to the true\nhistory. And we are justified in supposing that, quite as little of the\nreal history of events can be extracted from the tale of Troy, as from\nthe _Chansons de Geste_.\n\nBy the time the _Odyssey_ was composed, it is certain that a poet had\nbefore him a well-arranged mass of legends and traditions from which he\nmight select his materials. The author of the _Iliad_ has an extremely\nfull and curiously consistent knowledge of the local traditions of\nGreece, the memories which were cherished by Thebans, Pylians, people\nof Mycenae, of Argos, and so on. The _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ assume\nthis knowledge in the hearers of the poems, and take for granted some\nacquaintance with other legends, as with the story of the Argonautic\nExpedition. Now that story itself is a tissue of popular tales,\u2014still\ncurrent in many distant lands,\u2014but all woven by the Greek genius into\nthe history of Iason.\n\nThe history of the return of Odysseus as told in the _Odyssey_, is in\nthe same way, a tissue of old _m\u00e4rchen_. These must have existed for an\nunknown length of time before they gravitated into the cycle of the\ntale of Troy.\n\nThe extraordinary artistic skill with which legends and myths,\noriginally unconnected with each other, are woven into the plot of the\n_Odyssey_, so that the marvels of savage and barbaric fancy become\nindispensable parts of an artistic whole, is one of the chief proofs of\nthe unity of authorship of that poem. We now go on to sketch the plot,\nwhich is a marvel of construction.\n\nOdysseus was the King of Ithaca, a small and rugged island on the\nwestern coast of Greece. When he was but lately married to Penelope,\nand while his only son Telemachus was still an infant, the Trojan war\nbegan. It is scarcely necessary to say that the object of this war, as\nconceived of by the poets, was to win back Helen, the wife of Menelaus,\nfrom Paris, the son of Priam, King of Troy. As Menelaus was the brother\nof Agamemnon, the Emperor, so to speak, or recognised chief of the\npetty kingdoms of Greece, the whole force of these kingdoms was at his\ndisposal. No prince came to the leaguer of Troy from a home more remote\nthan that of Odysseus. When Troy was taken, in the tenth year of the\nwar, his homeward voyage was the longest and most perilous.\n\nThe action of the _Odyssey_ occupies but the last six weeks of the ten\nyears during which Odysseus was wandering. Two nights in these six\nweeks are taken up, however, by his own narrative of his adventures (to\nthe Phaeacians, p. xx) in the previous ten years. With this explanatory\nnarrative we must begin, before coming to the regular action of the\npoem.\n\nAfter the fall of Troy, Odysseus touched at Ismarus, the city of a\nThracian people, whom he attacked and plundered, but by whom he was at\nlast repulsed. The north wind then carried his ships to Malea, the\nextreme southern point of Greece. Had he doubled Malea safely, he would\nprobably have reached Ithaca in a few days, would have found Penelope\nunvexed by wooers, and Telemachus a boy of ten years old. But this was\nnot to be.\n\nThe \u201cruinous winds\u201d drove Odysseus and his ships for ten days, and on\nthe tenth they touched the land of the Lotus-Eaters, whose flowery food\ncauses sweet forgetfulness. Lotus-land was possibly in Western Libya,\nbut it is more probable that ten days\u2019 voyage from the southern point\nof Greece, brought Odysseus into an unexplored region of fairy-land.\nEgypt, of which Homer had some knowledge, was but five days\u2019 sail from\nCrete.\n\nLotus-land, therefore, being ten days\u2019 sail from Malea, was well over\nthe limit of the discovered world. From this country Odysseus went on\ntill he reached the land of the lawless Cycl\u00f4pes, a pastoral people of\ngiants. Later Greece feigned that the Cycl\u00f4pes dwelt near Mount Etna,\nin Sicily. Homer leaves their place of abode in the vague. Among the\nCycl\u00f4pes, Odysseus had the adventure on which his whole fortunes\nhinged. He destroyed the eye of the cannibal giant, Polyphemus, a son\nof Poseidon, the God of the Sea. To avenge this act, Poseidon drove\nOdysseus wandering for ten long years, and only suffered him to land in\nIthaca, \u201calone, in evil case, to find troubles in his house.\u201d This is a\nvery remarkable point in the plot. The story of the crafty adventurer\nand the blinding of the giant, with the punning device by which the\nhero escaped, exists in the shape of a detached _m\u00e4rchen_ or fairy-tale\namong races who never heard of Homer. And when we find the story among\nOghuzians, Esthonians, Basques, and Celts, it seems natural to suppose\nthat these people did not break a fragment out of the _Odyssey_, but\nthat the author of the _Odyssey_ took possession of a legend out of the\ngreat traditional store of fiction. From the wide distribution of the\ntale, there is reason to suppose that it is older than Homer, and that\nit was not originally told of Odysseus, but was attached to his legend,\nas floating jests of unknown authorship are attributed to eminent wits.\nIt has been remarked with truth that in this episode Odysseus acts out\nof character, that he is foolhardy as well as cunning. Yet the author\nof the _Odyssey_, so far from merely dove-tailing this story at random\ninto his narrative, has made his whole plot turn on the injury to the\nCyclops. Had he not foolishly exposed himself and his companions, by\nhis visit to the Cyclops, Odysseus would never have been driven\nwandering for ten weary years. The prayers of the blinded Cyclops were\nheard and fulfilled by Poseidon.\n\nFrom the land of the Cyclops, Odysseus and his company sailed to the\nIsle of Aeolus, the king of the winds. This place too is undefined; we\nonly learn that, even with the most favourable gale, it was ten days\u2019\nsail from Ithaca. In the Isle of Aeolus Odysseus abode for a month, and\nthen received from the king a bag in which all the winds were bound,\nexcept that which was to waft the hero to his home. This sort of bag\nwas probably not unfamiliar to superstitious Greek sailors who had\ndealings with witches, like the modern wise women of the Lapps. The\ncompanions of the hero opened the bag when Ithaca was in sight, the\nwinds rushed out, the ships were borne back to the Aeolian Isle, and\nthence the hero was roughly dismissed by Aeolus. Seven days\u2019 sail\nbrought him to Lamos, a city of the cannibal Laestrygonians. Their\ncountry, too, is in No-man\u2019s-land, and nothing can be inferred from the\nfact that their fountain was called Artacia, and that there was an\nArtacia in Cyzicus. In Lamos a very important adventure befel Odysseus.\nThe cannibals destroyed all his fleet, save one ship, with which he\nmade his escape to the Isle of Circ\u00e9. Here the enchantress turned part\nof the crew into swine, but Odysseus, by aid of the god Hermes,\nredeemed them, and became the lover of Circ\u00e9. This adventure, like the\nstory of the Cyclops, is a fairy tale of great antiquity. Dr. Gerland,\nin his _Alt Griechische M\u00e4rchen in der Odyssee_, has shown that the\nstory makes part of the collection of Somadeva, a store of Indian\ntales, of which 1200 A.D. is the approximate date. Circ\u00e9 appears as a\nYackshini, and is conquered when an adventurer seizes her flute whose\nmagic music turns men into beasts. The Indian Circ\u00e9 had the habit of\neating the animals into which she transformed men.\n\nWe must suppose that the affairs with the Cicones, the Lotus-eaters,\nthe Cyclops, Aeolus, and the Laestrygonians, occupied most of the first\nyear after the fall of Troy. A year was then spent in the Isle of\nCirc\u00e9, after which the sailors were eager to make for home. Circ\u00e9\ncommanded them to go down to Hades, to learn the homeward way from the\nghost of the Theban prophet Teiresias. The descent into hell, for some\nsimilar purpose, is common in the epics of other races, such as the\nFinns, and the South-Sea Islanders. The narrative of Odysseus\u2019s visit\nto the dead (book xi) is one of the most moving passages in the whole\npoem.\n\nFrom Teiresias Odysseus learned that, if he would bring his companions\nhome, he must avoid injuring the sacred cattle of the Sun, which\npastured in the Isle of Thrinacia. If these were harmed, he would\narrive in Ithaca alone, or in the words of the Cyclops\u2019s prayer, \u201cin\nevil plight, with loss of all his company, on board the ship of\nstrangers, to find sorrow in his house.\u201d On returning to the Isle\nAeaean, Odysseus was warned by Circ\u00e9 of the dangers he would encounter.\nHe and his friends set forth, escaped the Sirens (a sort of\nmermaidens), evaded the Clashing Rocks, which close on ships (a fable\nknown to the Aztecs), passed Scylla (the _pieuvre_ of antiquity) with\nloss of some of the company, and reached Thrinacia, the Isle of the\nSun. Here the company of Odysseus, constrained by hunger, devoured the\nsacred kine of the Sun, for which offence they were punished by a\nshipwreck, when all were lost save Odysseus. He floated ten days on a\nraft, and then reached the isle of the goddess Calypso, who kept him as\nher lover for eight years.\n\nThe first two years after the fall of Troy are now accounted for. They\nwere occupied, as we have seen, by adventures with the Cicones, the\nLotus-eaters, the Cyclops, Aeolus, the Laestrygonians, by a year\u2019s\nresidence with Circ\u00e9, by the descent into Hades, the encounters with\nthe Sirens, and Scylla, and the fatal sojourn in the isle of Thrinacia.\nWe leave Odysseus alone, for eight years, consuming his own heart, in\nthe island paradise of Calypso.\n\nIn Ithaca, the hero\u2019s home, things seem to have passed smoothly till\nabout the sixth year after the fall of Troy. Then the men of the\nyounger generation, the island chiefs, began to woo Penelope, and to\nvex her son Telemachus. Laertes, the father of Odysseus, was too old to\nhelp, and Penelope only gained time by her famous device of weaving and\nunweaving the web. The wooers began to put compulsion on the Queen,\nquartering themselves upon her, devouring her substance, and insulting\nher by their relations with her handmaids. Thus Penelope pined at home,\namidst her wasting possessions. Telemachus fretted in vain, and\nOdysseus was devoured by grief and home-sickness in the isle of\nCalypso. When he had lain there for nigh eight years, the action of the\n_Odyssey_ begins, and occupies about six weeks.\n\n DAY 1 (Book i).\n\n\nThe _ordained_ time has now arrived, when by the counsels of the Gods,\nOdysseus is to be brought home to free his house, to avenge himself on\nthe wooers, and recover his kingdom. The chief agent in his restoration\nis Pallas Athene; the first book opens with her prayer to Zeus that\nOdysseus may be delivered. For this purpose Hermes is to be sent to\nCalypso to bid her release Odysseus, while Pallas Athene in the shape\nof Mentor, a friend of Odysseus, visits Telemachus in Ithaca. She bids\nhim call an assembly of the people, dismiss the wooers to their homes,\nand his mother to her father\u2019s house, and go in quest of his own\nfather, in Pylos, the city of Nestor, and Sparta, the home of Menelaus.\nTelemachus recognises the Goddess, and the first day closes.\n\n DAY 2 (Book ii).\n\n\nTelemachus assembles the people, but he has not the heart to carry out\nAthene\u2019s advice. He cannot send the wooers away, nor turn his mother\nout of her house. He rather weakly appeals to the wooers\u2019 consciences,\nand announces his intention of going to seek his father. They answer\nwith scorn, but are warned of their fate, which is even at the doors,\nby Halitherses. His prophecy (first made when Odysseus set out for\nTroy) tallies with the prophecy of Teiresias, and the prayer of the\nCyclops. The reader will observe a series of portents, prophecies, and\nomens, which grow more numerous and admonishing as their doom draws\nnearer to the wooers. Their hearts, however, are hardened, and they\nmock at Telemachus, who, after an interview with Athene, borrows a ship\nand secretly sets out for Pylos. Athene accompanies him, and his\nfriends man his galley.\n\n DAY 3 (Book iii).\n\n\nThey reach Pylos, and are kindly received by the aged Nestor, who has\nno news about Odysseus. After sacrifice, Athene disappears.\n\n DAY 4 (Book iii).\n\n\nThe fourth day is occupied with sacrifice, and the talk of Nestor. In\nthe evening Telemachus (leaving his ship and friends at Pylos) drives\nhis chariot into Pherae, half way to Sparta; Peisistratus, the son of\nNestor, accompanies him.\n\n DAY 5 (Book iv).\n\n\nTelemachus and Peisistratus arrive at Sparta, where Menelaus and Helen\nreceive them kindly.\n\n DAY 6 (Book iv).\n\n\nMenelaus tells how he himself came home in the eighth year after the\nfall of Troy. He had heard from Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea, that\nOdysseus was alive, and a captive on an island of the deep. Menelaus\ninvites Telemachus to stay with him for eleven days or twelve, which\nTelemachus declines to do. It will later appear that he made an even\nlonger stay at Sparta, though whether he changed his mind, or whether\nwe have here an inadvertence of the poet\u2019s it is hard to determine.\nThis blemish has been used as an argument against the unity of\nauthorship, but writers of all ages have made graver mistakes.\n\nOn this same day (the sixth) the wooers in Ithaca learned that\nTelemachus had really set out to \u201ccruise after his father.\u201d They sent\nsome of their number to lie in ambush for him, in a certain strait\nwhich he was likely to pass on his return to Ithaca. Penelope also\nheard of her son\u2019s departure, but was consoled by a dream.\n\n DAY 7 (Book v).\n\n\nThe seventh day finds us again in Olympus. Athene again urges the\nrelease of Odysseus; and Hermes is sent to bid Calypso let the hero go.\nZeus prophecies that after twenty days sailing, Odysseus will reach\nScheria, and the hospitable Phaeacians, a people akin to the Gods, who\nwill convey him to Ithaca. Hermes accomplishes the message to Calypso.\n\n DAYS 8-12-32 (Book v).\n\n\nThese days are occupied by Odysseus in making and launching a raft; on\nthe twelfth day from the beginning of the action he leaves Calypso\u2019s\nisle. He sails for eighteen days, and on the eighteenth day of his\nvoyage (the twenty-ninth from the beginning of the action), he sees\nScheria. Poseidon raises a storm against him, and it is not till the\nthirty-second day from that in which Athene visited Telemachus, that he\nlands in Scheria, the country of the Phaeacians. Here he is again in\nfairy land. A rough, but perfectly recognisable form of the Phaeacian\nmyth, is found in an Indian collection of _m\u00e4rchen_ (already referred\nto) of the twelfth century A.D. Here the Phaeacians are the\nVidy\u00e2dh\u00e2ris, and their old enemies the Cycl\u00f4pes, are the Rakshashas, a\nsort of giants. The Indian Odysseus, who seeks the city of gold, passes\nby the home of an Indian Aeolus, Satyavrata. His later adventures are\nconfused, and the Greek version retains only the more graceful fancies\nof the _m\u00e4rchen_.\n\n DAY 33 (Book vi).\n\n\nOdysseus meets Nausicaa, daughter of Alcinous, the Phaeacian King, and\nby her aid, and that of Athene, is favourably received at the palace,\nand tells how he came from Calypso\u2019s island. His name is still unknown\nto his hosts.\n\n DAY 34 (Books vii, viii, ix, x, xi, xii).\n\n\nThe Phaeacians and Odysseus display their skill in sports. Nausicaa\nbids Odysseus farewell. Odysseus recounts to Alcinous, and Arete, the\nQueen, those adventures in the two years between the fall of Troy and\nhis captivity in the island of Calypso, which we have already described\n(pp. xiii-xvii).\n\n DAY 35 (Book xiii).\n\n\nOdysseus is conveyed to Ithaca, in the evening, on one of the magical\nbarques of the Phaeacians.\n\n DAY 36 (Books xiii, xiv, xv).\n\n\nHe wakens in Ithaca, which he does not at first recognise He learns\nfrom Athene, for the first time, that the wooers beset his house. She\ndisguises him as an old man, and bids him go to the hut of the\nswineherd Eumaeus, who is loyal to his absent lord. Athene then goes to\nLacedaemon, to bring back Telemachus, who has now resided there for a\nmonth. Odysseus won the heart of Eumaeus, who of course did not\nrecognise him, and slept in the swineherd\u2019s hut, while Athene was\nwaking Telemachus, in Lacedaemon, and bidding him \u201cbe mindful of his\nreturn.\u201d\n\n DAY 37 (Book xv).\n\n\nIs spent by Odysseus in the swineherd\u2019s hut. Telemachus reaches Pherae,\nhalf-way to Pylos.\n\n DAY 38 (Book xv).\n\n\nTelemachus reaches Pylos, but does not visit Nestor. To save time he\ngoes at once on board ship, taking with him an unfortunate outlaw,\nTheoclymenus, a second-sighted man, or the family of Melampus, in which\nthe gift of prophecy was hereditary. The ship passed the Elian coast at\nnight, and evaded the ambush of the wooers. Meanwhile Odysseus was\nsitting up almost till dawn, listening to the history of Eumaeus, the\nswineherd.\n\n DAY 39 (Books xv, xvi).\n\n\nTelemachus reaches the Isle of Ithaca, sends his ship to the city, but\nhimself, by advice of Athene, makes for the hut of Eumaeus, where he\nmeets, but naturally does not recognise, his disguised father. He sends\nEumaeus to Penelope with news of his arrival, and then Athene reveals\nOdysseus to Telemachus. The two plot the death of the wooers. Odysseus\nbids Telemachus remove, on a favourable opportunity, the arms which\nwere disposed as trophies on the walls of the hall at home. (There is a\nslight discrepancy between the words of this advice and the manner in\nwhich it is afterwards executed.) During this interview, the ship of\nTelemachus, the wooers who had been in ambush, and Eumaeus, all reached\nthe town of Ithaca. In the evening Eumaeus returned to his hut, where\nAthene had again disguised Odysseus.\n\n DAY 40 (Books xvii, xviii, xix, xx).\n\n\nThe story is now hastening to its close, and many events are crowded\ninto the fortieth day. Telemachus goes from the swineherd\u2019s hut to the\ncity, and calls his guest, Theoclymenus, to the palace. The\nsecond-sighted man prophesies of the near revenge of Odysseus. In the\nafternoon, Odysseus (still disguised) and Eumaeus reach the city, the\ndog Argos recognises the hero, and dies. Odysseus goes begging through\nhis own hall, and is struck by Antinous, the proudest of the wooers.\nLate in the day Eumaeus goes home, and Odysseus fights with the\nbraggart beggar Irus. Still later, Penelope appears among the wooers,\nand receives presents from them. When the wooers have withdrawn,\nOdysseus and Telemachus remove the weapons from the hall to the\narmoury. Afterwards Odysseus has an interview with Penelope (who does\nnot recognise him), but he is recognised by his old nurse Eurycleia.\nPenelope mentions her purpose to wed the man who on the following day,\nthe feast of the Archer-god Apollo, shall draw the bow of Odysseus, and\nsend an arrow through the holes in twelve axe-blades, set up in a row.\nThus the poet shows that Odysseus has arrived in Ithaca not a day too\nsoon. Odysseus is comforted by a vision of Athene, and\n\n DAY 41 (Books xx, xxi, xxii, xxiii).\n\n\nby the ominous prayer uttered by a weary woman grinding at the mill.\nThe swineherd and the disloyal Melanthius arrive at the palace. The\nwooers defer the plot to kill Telemachus, as the day is holy to Apollo.\nOdysseus is led up from his seat near the door to a place beside\nTelemachus at the chief\u2019s table. The wooers mock Telemachus, and the\nsecond-sighted Theoclymenus sees the ominous shroud of death covering\ntheir bodies, and the walls dripping with blood. He leaves the doomed\ncompany. In the trial of the bow, none of the wooers can draw it;\nmeanwhile Odysseus has declared himself to the neatherd and the\nswineherd. The former bars and fastens the outer gates of the court,\nthe latter bids Eurycleia bar the doors of the womens\u2019 chambers which\nlead out of the hall. Odysseus now gets the bow into his hands, strings\nit, sends the arrow through the axe-blades, and then leaping on the\nthreshold of stone, deals his shafts among the wooers. Telemachus, the\nneatherd, and Eumaeus, aiding him, he slaughters all the crew, despite\nthe treachery of Melanthius. The paramours of the wooers are hanged,\nand Odysseus, after some delay, is recognised by Penelope.\n\n DAY 42 (Books xxiii, xxiv).\n\n\nThis day is occupied with the recognition of Odysseus by his aged\nfather Laertes, and with the futile attempt of the kinsfolk of the\nwooers to avenge them on Odysseus. Athene reconciles the feud, and the\ntoils of Odysseus are accomplished.\n\nThe reader has now before him a chronologically arranged sketch of the\naction of the _Odyssey_. It is, perhaps, apparent, even from this bare\noutline, that the composition is elaborate and artistic, that the\nthreads of the plot are skilfully separated and combined. The germ of\nthe whole epic is probably the popular tale, known all over the world,\nof the warrior who, on his return from a long expedition, has great\ndifficulty in making his prudent wife recognise him. The incident\noccurs as a detached story in China, and in most European countries it\nis told of a crusader. \u201cWe may suppose it to be older than the legend\nof Troy, and to have gravitated into the cycle of that legend. The\nyears of the hero\u2019s absence are then filled up with adventures (the\nCyclops, Circ\u00e9, the Phaeacians, the Sirens, the descent into hell)\nwhich exist as scattered tales, or are woven into the more elaborate\nepics of Gaels, Aztecs, Hindoos, Tartars, South-Sea Islanders, Finns,\nRussians, Scandinavians, and Eskimo. The whole is surrounded with the\natmosphere of the kingly age of Greece, and the result is the Odyssey,\nwith that unity of plot and variety of character which must have been\ngiven by one masterly constructive genius. The date at which the poet\nof the Odyssey lived may be approximately determined by his consistent\ndescriptions of a peculiar and definite condition of society, which had\nceased to exist in the ninth century B.C., and of a stage of art in\nwhich Phoenician and Assyrian influences predominated. (_Die Kunst bei\nHomer._ Brunn.) As to the mode of composition, it would not be\ndifficult to show that at least the _a priori_ Wolfian arguments\nagainst the early use of writing for literary purposes have no longer\nthe cogency which they were once thought to possess. But this is matter\nfor a separate investigation.\n\n\n\nThe Odyssey\n\n\n\nBOOK I.\n\n\nIn a Council of the Gods, Poseidon absent, Pallas procureth an order\nfor the restitution of Odysseus; and appearing to his son Telemachus,\nin human shape, adviseth him to complain of the Wooers before the\nCouncil of the people, and then go to Pylos and Sparta to inquire about\nhis father.\n\n\nTell me, Muse, of that man, so ready at need, who wandered far and\nwide, after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy, and many were the\nmen whose towns he saw and whose mind he learnt, yea, and many the woes\nhe suffered in his heart upon the deep, striving to win his own life\nand the return of his company. Nay, but even so he saved not his\ncompany, though he desired it sore. For through the blindness of their\nown hearts they perished, fools, who devoured the oxen of Helios\nHyperion: but the god took from them their day of returning. Of these\nthings, goddess, daughter of Zeus, whencesoever thou hast heard\nthereof, declare thou even unto us.\n\nNow all the rest, as many as fled from sheer destruction, were at home,\nand had escaped both war and sea, but Odysseus only, craving for his\nwife and for his homeward path, the lady nymph Calypso held, that fair\ngoddess, in her hollow caves, longing to have him for her lord. But\nwhen now the year had come in the courses of the seasons, wherein the\ngods had ordained that he should return home to Ithaca, not even there\nwas he quit of labours, not even among his own; but all the gods had\npity on him save Poseidon, who raged continually against godlike\nOdysseus, till he came to his own country. Howbeit Poseidon had now\ndeparted for the distant Ethiopians, the Ethiopians that are sundered\nin twain, the uttermost of men, abiding some where Hyperion sinks and\nsome where he rises. There he looked to receive his hecatomb of bulls\nand rams, there he made merry sitting at the feast, but the other gods\nwere gathered in the halls of Olympian Zeus. Then among them the father\nof gods and men began to speak, for he bethought him in his heart of\nnoble Aegisthus, whom the son of Agamemnon, far-famed Orestes, slew.\nThinking upon him he spake out among the Immortals:\n\n\u201cLo you now, how vainly mortal men do blame the gods! For of us they\nsay comes evil, whereas they even of themselves, through the blindness\nof their own hearts, have sorrows beyond that which is ordained. Even\nas of late Aegisthus, beyond that which was ordained, took to him the\nwedded wife of the son of Atreus, and killed her lord on his return,\nand that with sheer doom before his eyes, since we had warned him by\nthe embassy of Hermes the keen-sighted, the slayer of Argos, that he\nshould neither kill the man, nor woo his wife. For the son of Atreus\nshall be avenged at the hand of Orestes, so soon as he shall come to\nman\u2019s estate and long for his own country. So spake Hermes, yet he\nprevailed not on the heart of Aegisthus, for all his good will; but now\nhath he paid one price for all.\u201d\n\nAnd the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him, saying: \u201cO father, our\nfather Cronides, throned in the highest; that man assuredly lies in a\ndeath that is his due; so perish likewise all who work such deeds! But\nmy heart is rent for wise Odysseus, that hapless one, who far from his\nfriends this long while suffereth affliction in a seagirt isle, where\nis the navel of the sea, a woodland isle, and therein a goddess hath\nher habitation, the daughter of the wizard Atlas, who knows the depths\nof every sea, and himself upholds the tall pillars which keep earth and\nsky asunder. His daughter it is that holds the hapless man in sorrow:\nand ever with soft and guileful tales she is wooing him to\nforgetfulness of Ithaca. But Odysseus yearning to see if it were but\nthe smoke leap upwards from his own land, hath a desire to die. As for\nthee, thine heart regardeth it not at all, Olympian! What! did not\nOdysseus by the ships of the Argives make thee free offering of\nsacrifice in the wide Trojan land? Wherefore wast thou then so wroth\nwith him, O Zeus?\u201d\n\nAnd Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered her, and said, \u201cMy child, what\nword hath escaped the door of thy lips? Yea, how should I forget divine\nOdysseus, who in understanding is beyond mortals and beyond all men\nhath done sacrifice to the deathless gods, who keep the wide heaven?\nNay, but it is Poseidon, the girdler of the earth, that hath been wroth\ncontinually with quenchless anger for the Cyclops\u2019 sake whom he blinded\nof his eye, even godlike Polyphemus whose power is mightiest amongst\nall the Cycl\u00f4pes. His mother was the nymph Tho\u00f6sa, daughter of Phorcys,\nlord of the unharvested sea, and in the hollow caves she lay with\nPoseidon. From that day forth Poseidon the earth-shaker doth not indeed\nslay Odysseus, but driveth him wandering from his own country. But\ncome, let us here one and all take good counsel as touching his\nreturning, that he may be got home; so shall Poseidon let go his\ndispleasure, for he will in no wise be able to strive alone against\nall, in despite of all the deathless gods.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him, and said: \u201cO father,\nour father Cronides, throned in the highest, if indeed this thing is\nnow well pleasing to the blessed gods, that wise Odysseus should return\nto his own home, let us then speed Hermes the Messenger, the slayer of\nArgos, to the island of Ogygia. There with all speed let him declare to\nthe lady of the braided tresses our unerring counsel, even the return\nof the patient Odysseus, that so he may come to his home. But as for me\nI will go to Ithaca that I may rouse his son yet the more, planting\nmight in his heart, to call an assembly of the long-haired Achaeans and\nspeak out to all the wooers who slaughter continually the sheep of his\nthronging flocks, and his kine with trailing feet and shambling gait.\nAnd I will guide him to Sparta and to sandy Pylos to seek tidings of\nhis dear father\u2019s return, if peradventure he may hear thereof and that\nso he may be had in good report among men.\u201d\n\nShe spake and bound beneath her feet her lovely golden sandals that wax\nnot old, and bare her alike over the wet sea and over the limitless\nland, swift as the breath of the wind. And she seized her doughty\nspear, shod with sharp bronze, weighty and huge and strong, wherewith\nshe quells the ranks of heroes with whomsoever she is wroth, the\ndaughter of the mighty sire. Then from the heights of Olympus she came\nglancing down, and she stood in the land of Ithaca, at the entry of the\ngate of Odysseus, on the threshold of the courtyard, holding in her\nhand the spear of bronze, in the semblance of a stranger, Mentes the\ncaptain of the Taphians. And there she found the lordly wooers: now\nthey were taking their pleasure at draughts in front of the doors,\nsitting on hides of oxen, which themselves had slain. And of the\nhenchmen and the ready squires, some were mixing for them wine and\nwater in bowls, and some again were washing the tables with porous\nsponges and were setting them forth, and others were carving flesh in\nplenty.\n\nAnd godlike Telemachus was far the first to descry her, for he was\nsitting with a heavy heart among the wooers dreaming on his good\nfather, if haply he might come somewhence, and make a scattering of the\nwooers there throughout the palace, and himself get honour and bear\nrule among his own possessions. Thinking thereupon, as he sat among\nwooers, he saw Athene\u2014and he went straight to the outer porch, for he\nthought it blame in his heart that a stranger should stand long at the\ngates: and halting nigh her he clasped her right hand and took from her\nthe spear of bronze, and uttered his voice and spake unto her winged\nwords:\n\n\u201cHail, stranger, with us thou shalt be kindly entreated, and\nthereafter, when thou hast tasted meat, thou shalt tell us that whereof\nthou hast need.\u201d\n\nTherewith he led the way, and Pallas Athene followed. And when they\nwere now within the lofty house, he set her spear that he bore against\na tall pillar, within the polished spear-stand, where stood many spears\nbesides, even those of Odysseus of the hardy heart; and he led the\ngoddess and seated her on a goodly carven chair, and spread a linen\ncloth thereunder, and beneath was a footstool for the feet. For himself\nhe placed an inlaid seat hard by, apart from the company of the wooers,\nlest the stranger should be disquieted by the noise and should have a\nloathing for the meal, being come among overweening men, and also that\nhe might ask him about his father that was gone from his home.\n\nThen a handmaid bare water for the washing of hands in a goodly golden\newer, and poured it forth over a silver basin to wash withal, and drew\nto their side a polished table. And a grave dame bare wheaten bread and\nset it by them, and laid on the board many dainties, giving freely of\nsuch things as she had by her. And a carver lifted and placed by them\nplatters of divers kinds of flesh, and nigh them he set golden bowls,\nand a henchman walked to and fro pouring out to them the wine.\n\nThen in came the lordly wooers; and they sat them down in rows on\nchairs, and on high seats, and henchmen poured water on their hands,\nand maidservants piled wheaten bread by them in baskets, and pages\ncrowned the bowls with drink; and they stretched forth their hands upon\nthe good cheer spread before them. Now when the wooers had put from\nthem the desire of meat and drink, they minded them of other things,\neven of the song and dance: for these are the crown of the feast. And a\nhenchman placed a beauteous lyre in the hands of Phemius, who was\nminstrel to the wooers despite his will. Yea and as he touched the lyre\nhe lifted up his voice in sweet songs.[1]\n\n [1] Or, according to the ordinary interpretation of \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf: So he\n touched the chords in prelude to his sweet singing.\n\n\nBut Telemachus spake unto grey-eyed Athene, holding his head close to\nher that those others might not hear: \u201cDear stranger, wilt thou of a\ntruth be wroth at the word that I shall say? Yonder men verily care for\nsuch things as these, the lyre and song, lightly, as they that devour\nthe livelihood of another without atonement, of that man whose white\nbones, it may be, lie wasting in the rain upon the mainland, or the\nbillow rolls them in the brine. Were but these men to see him returned\nto Ithaca, they all would pray rather for greater speed of foot than\nfor gain of gold and raiment. But now he hath perished, even so, an\nevil doom, and for us is no comfort, no, not though any of earthly men\nshould say that he will come again. Gone is the day of his returning!\nBut come declare me this, and tell me all plainly: Who art thou of the\nsons of men, and whence? Where is thy city, where are they that begat\nthee? Say, on what manner of ship didst thou come, and how did sailors\nbring thee to Ithaca, and who did they avow themselves to be, for in\nnowise do I deem that thou camest hither by land. And herein tell me\ntrue, that I may know for a surety whether thou art a newcomer, or\nwhether thou art a guest of the house, seeing that many were the\nstrangers that came to our home, for that _he_ too had voyaged much\namong men.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him: \u201cYea now, I will\nplainly tell thee all. I avow me to be Mentes, son of wise Anchialus,\nand I bear rule among the Taphians, lovers of the oar. And now am I\ncome to shore, as thou seest, with ship and crew, sailing over the\nwine-dark sea, unto men of strange speech, even to Temesa,[2] in quest\nof copper, and my cargo is shining iron. And there my ship is lying\ntoward the upland, away from the city, in the harbour of Rheithron\nbeneath wooded Ne\u00efon: and we declare ourselves to be friends one of the\nother, and of houses friendly, from of old. Nay, if thou wouldest be\nassured, go ask the old man, the hero Laertes, who they say no more\ncomes to the city, but far away toward the upland suffers affliction,\nwith an ancient woman for his handmaid, who sets by him meat and drink,\nwhensoever weariness takes hold of his limbs, as he creeps along the\nknoll of his vineyard plot. And now am I come; for verily they said\nthat _he_, thy father, was among his people; but lo, the gods withhold\nhim from his way. For goodly Odysseus hath not yet perished on the\nearth; but still, methinks, he lives and is kept on the wide deep in a\nseagirt isle, and hard men constrain him, wild folk that hold him, it\nmay be, sore against his will. But now of a truth will I utter my word\nof prophecy, as the Immortals bring it into my heart and as I deem it\nwill be accomplished, though no soothsayer am I, nor skilled in the\nsigns of birds. Henceforth indeed for no long while shall he be far\nfrom his own dear country, not though bonds of iron bind him; he will\nadvise him of a way to return, for he is a man of many devices. But\ncome, declare me this, and tell me all plainly, whether indeed, so tall\nas thou art, thou art sprung from the loins of Odysseus. Thy head\nsurely and they beauteous eyes are wondrous like to his, since full\nmany a time have we held converse together ere he embarked for Troy,\nwhither the others, aye the bravest of the Argives, went in hollow\nships. From that day forth neither have I seen Odysseus, nor he me.\u201d\n\n [2] Tamasia, in the mountainous centre of Cyprus.\n\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered her, and said: \u201cYea, sir, now will I\nplainly tell thee all. My mother verily saith that I am his; for myself\nI know not, for never man yet knew of himself his own descent. O that I\nhad been the son of some blessed man, whom old age overtook among his\nown possessions! But now of him that is the most hapless of mortal men,\nhis son they say that I am, since thou dost question me hereof.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake unto him, and said: \u201cSurely\nno nameless lineage have the gods ordained for thee in days to come,\nsince Penelope bore thee so goodly a man. But come, declare me this,\nand tell it all plainly. What feast, nay, what rout is this? What hast\nthou to do therewith? Is it a clan drinking, or a wedding feast, for\nhere we have no banquet where each man brings his share? In such wise,\nflown with insolence, do they seem to me to revel wantonly through the\nhouse: and well might any man be wroth to see so many deeds of shame,\nwhatso wise man came among them.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered her, and said: \u201cSir, forasmuch as thou\nquestionest me of these things and inquirest thereof, our house was\nonce like to have been rich and honourable, while yet that man was\namong his people. But now the gods willed it otherwise, in evil\npurpose, who have made him pass utterly out of sight as no man ever\nbefore. Truly I would not even for his death make so great sorrow, had\nhe fallen among his fellows in the land of the Trojans, or in the arms\nof his friends when he had wound up the clew of war. Then would the\nwhole Achaean host have builded him a barrow, and even for his son\nwould he have won great glory in the after days. But now the spirits of\nthe storm have swept him away inglorious. He is gone, lost to sight and\nhearsay, but for me hath he left anguish and lamentation; nor\nhenceforth is it for him alone that I mourn and weep, since the gods\nhave wrought for me other sore distress. For all the noblest that are\nprinces in the isles, in Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus, and\nas many as lord it in rocky Ithaca, all these woo my mother and waste\nmy house. But as for her she neither refuseth the hated bridal, nor\nhath the heart to make an end: so they devour and minish my house, and\nere long will they make havoc likewise of myself.\u201d\n\nThen in heavy displeasure spake unto him Pallas Athene: \u201cGod help thee!\nthou art surely sore in need of Odysseus that is afar, to stretch forth\nhis hands upon the shameless wooers. If he could but come now and stand\nat the entering in of the gate, with helmet and shield and lances\ntwain, as mighty a man as when first I marked him in our house drinking\nand making merry what time he came up out of Ephyra from Ilus son of\nMermerus! For even thither had Odysseus gone on his swift ship to seek\na deadly drug, that he might have wherewithal to smear his bronze-shod\narrows: but Ilus would in nowise give it to him, for he had in awe the\neverliving gods. But my father gave it him, for he bare him wondrous\nlove. O that Odysseus might in such strength consort with the wooers:\nso should they all have swift fate and bitter wedlock! Howbeit these\nthings surely lie on the knees of the gods, whether he shall return or\nnot, and take vengeance in his halls. But I charge thee to take counsel\nhow thou mayest thrust forth the wooers from the hall. Come now, mark\nand take heed unto my words. On the morrow call the Achaean lords to\nthe assembly, and declare thy saying to all, and take the gods to\nwitness. As for the wooers bid them scatter them each one to his own,\nand for thy mother, if her heart is moved to marriage, let her go back\nto the hall of that mighty man her father, and her kinsfolk will\nfurnish a wedding feast, and array the gifts of wooing exceeding many,\nall that should go back with a daughter dearly beloved. And to thyself\nI will give a word of wise counsel, if perchance thou wilt hearken. Fit\nout a ship, the best thou hast, with twenty oarsmen, and go to inquire\nconcerning thy father that is long afar, if perchance any man shall\ntell thee aught, or if thou mayest hear the voice from Zeus, which\nchiefly brings tidings to men. Get thee first to Pylos and inquire of\ngoodly Nestor, and from thence to Sparta to Menelaus of the fair hair,\nfor he came home the last of the mail-coated Achaeans. If thou shalt\nhear news of the life and the returning of thy father, then verily thou\nmayest endure the wasting for yet a year. But if thou shalt hear that\nhe is dead and gone, return then to thine own dear country and pile his\nmound, and over it pay burial rites, full many as is due, and give thy\nmother to a husband. But when thou hast done this and made an end,\nthereafter take counsel in thy mind and heart, how thou mayest slay the\nwooers in thy halls, whether by guile or openly; for thou shouldest not\ncarry childish thoughts, being no longer of years thereto. Or hast thou\nnot heard what renown the goodly Orestes gat him among all men in that\nhe slew the slayer of his father, guileful Aegisthus, who killed his\nfamous sire? And thou, too, my friend, for I see that thou art very\ncomely and tall, be valiant, that even men unborn may praise thee. But\nI will now go down to the swift ship and to my men, who methinks chafe\nmuch at tarrying for me; and do thou thyself take heed and give ear\nunto my words.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered her, saying: \u201cSir, verily thou speakest\nthese things out of a friendly heart, as a father to his son, and never\nwill I forget them. But now I pray thee abide here, though eager to be\ngone, to the end that after thou hast bathed and had all thy heart\u2019s\ndesire, thou mayest wend to the ship joyful in spirit, with a costly\ngift and very goodly, to be an heirloom of my giving, such as dear\nfriends give to friends.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him: \u201cHold me now no\nlonger, that am eager for the way. But whatsoever gift thine heart\nshall bid thee give me, when I am on my way back let it be mine to\ncarry home: bear from thy stores a gift right goodly, and it shall\nbring thee the worth thereof in return.\u201d\n\nSo spake she and departed, the grey-eyed Athene, and like an eagle of\nthe sea she flew away, but in his spirit she planted might and courage,\nand put him in mind of his father yet more than heretofore. And he\nmarked the thing and was amazed, for he deemed that it was a god; and\nanon he went among the wooers, a godlike man.\n\nNow the renowned minstrel was singing to the wooers, and they sat\nlistening in silence; and his song was of the pitiful return of the\nAchaeans, that Pallas Athene laid on them as they came forth from Troy.\nAnd from her upper chamber the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\ncaught the glorious strain, and she went down the high stairs from her\nchamber, not alone, for two of her handmaids bare her company. Now when\nthe fair lady had come unto the wooers, she stood by the pillar of the\nwell-builded roof holding up her glistening tire before her face; and a\nfaithful maiden stood on either side her. Then she fell a weeping, and\nspake unto the divine minstrel:\n\n\u201cPhemius, since thou knowest many other charms for mortals, deeds of\nmen and gods, which bards rehearse, some one of these do thou sing as\nthou sittest by them, and let them drink their wine in silence; but\ncease from this pitiful strain, that ever wastes my heart within my\nbreast, since to me above all women hath come a sorrow comfortless. So\ndear a head do I long for in constant memory, namely, that man whose\nfame is noised abroad from Hellas to mid Argos.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered her, and said: \u201cO my mother, why then\ndost thou grudge the sweet minstrel to gladden us as his spirit moves\nhim? It is not minstrels who are in fault, but Zeus, methinks, is in\nfault, who gives to men, that live by bread, to each one as he will. As\nfor him it is no blame if he sings the ill-faring of the Danaans; for\nmen always prize that song the most, which rings newest in their ears.\nBut let thy heart and mind endure to listen, for not Odysseus only lost\nin Troy the day of his returning, but many another likewise perished.\nHowbeit go to thy chamber and mind thine own housewiferies, the loom\nand distaff, and bid thy handmaids ply their tasks. But speech shall be\nfor men, for all, but for me in chief; for mine is the lordship in the\nhouse.\u201d\n\nThen in amaze she went back to her chamber, for she laid up the wise\nsaying of her son in her heart. She ascended to her upper chamber with\nthe women her handmaids, and then was bewailing Odysseus, her dear\nlord, till grey-eyed Athene cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.\n\nNow the wooers clamoured throughout the shadowy halls, and each one\nuttered a prayer to be her bedfellow. And wise Telemachus first spake\namong them:\n\n\u201cWooers of my mother, men despiteful out of measure, let us feast now\nand make merry and let there be no brawling; for, lo, it is a good\nthing to list to a minstrel such as him, like to the gods in voice. But\nin the morning let us all go to the assembly and sit us down, that I\nmay declare my saying outright, to wit that ye leave these halls: and\nbusy yourselves with other feasts, eating your own substance, going in\nturn from house to house. But if ye deem this a likelier and a better\nthing, that one man\u2019s goods should perish without atonement, then waste\nye as ye will; and I will call upon the everlasting gods, if haply Zeus\nmay grant that acts of recompense be made: so should ye hereafter\nperish within the halls without atonement.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and all that heard him bit their lips and marvelled at\nTelemachus, in that he spake boldly.\n\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him: \u201cTelemachus, in very\ntruth the gods themselves instruct thee to be proud of speech and\nboldly to harangue. Never may Cronion make thee king in seagirt Ithaca,\nwhich thing is of inheritance thy right!\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, and said: \u201cAntinous, wilt thou\nindeed be wroth at the word that I shall say? Yea, at the hand of Zeus\nwould I be fain to take even this thing upon me. Sayest thou that this\nis the worst hap that can befal a man? Nay, verily, it is no ill thing\nto be a king: the house of such an one quickly waxeth rich and himself\nis held in greater honour. Howsoever there are many other kings of the\nAchaeans in seagirt Ithaca, kings young and old; someone of them shall\nsurely have this kingship since goodly Odysseus is dead. But as for me,\nI will be lord of our own house and thralls, that goodly Odysseus gat\nme with his spear.\u201d\n\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him, saying: \u201cTelemachus, on\nthe knees of the gods it surely lies, what man is to be king over the\nAchaeans in seagirt Ithaca. But mayest thou keep thine own possessions\nand be lord in thine own house! Never may that man come, who shall\nwrest from thee thy substance violently in thine own despite while\nIthaca yet stands. But I would ask thee, friend, concerning the\nstranger\u2014whence he is, and of what land he avows him to be? Where are\nhis kin and his native fields? Doth he bear some tidings of thy father\non his road, or cometh he thus to speed some matter of his own? In such\nwise did he start up, and lo, he was gone, nor tarried he that we\nshould know him;\u2014and yet he seemed no mean man to look upon.\u201d[3]\n\n [3] The \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 explains the expression of surprise at the sudden\n departure of the stranger.\n\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, and said: \u201cEurymachus, surely the\nday of my father\u2019s returning hath gone by. Therefore no more do I put\nfaith in tidings, whencesoever they may come, neither have I regard\nunto any divination, whereof my mother may inquire at the lips of a\ndiviner, when she hath bidden him to the hall. But as for that man, he\nis a friend of my house from Taphos, and he avows him to be Mentes, son\nof wise Anchialus, and he hath lordship among the Taphians, lovers of\nthe oar.\u201d\n\nSo spake Telemachus, but in his heart he knew the deathless goddess.\nNow the wooers turned them to the dance and the delightsome song, and\nmade merry, and waited till evening should come on. And as they made\nmerry, dusk evening came upon them. Then they went each one to his own\nhouse to lie down to rest.\n\nBut Telemachus, where his chamber was builded high up in the fair\ncourt, in a place with wide prospect, thither betook him to his bed,\npondering many thoughts in his mind; and with him went trusty\nEurycleia, and bare for him torches burning. She was the daughter of\nOps, son of Peisenor, and Laertes bought her on a time with his wealth,\nwhile as yet she was in her first youth, and gave for her the worth of\ntwenty oxen. And he honoured her even as he honoured his dear wife in\nthe halls, but he never lay with her, for he shunned the wrath of his\nlady. She went with Telemachus and bare for him the burning torches:\nand of all the women of the household she loved him most, and she had\nnursed him when a little one. Then he opened the doors of the\nwell-builded chamber and sat him on the bed and took off his soft\ndoublet, and put it in the wise old woman\u2019s hands. So she folded the\ndoublet and smoothed it, and hung it on a pin by the jointed bedstead,\nand went forth on her way from the room, and pulled to the door with\nthe silver handle, and drew home the bar with the thong. There, all\nnight through, wrapped in a fleece of wool, he meditated in his heart\nupon the journey that Athene had showed him.\n\n\n\nBOOK II.\n\n\nTelemachus complains in vain, and borrowing a ship, goes secretly to\nPylos by night. And how he was there received.\n\n\nNow so soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, the dear son\nof Odysseus gat him up from his bed, and put on his raiment and cast\nhis sharp sword about his shoulder, and beneath his smooth feet he\nbound his goodly sandals, and stept forth from his chamber in presence\nlike a god. And straightway he bade the clear-voiced heralds to call\nthe long-haired Achaeans to the assembly. And the heralds called the\ngathering, and the Achaeans were assembled quickly. Now when they were\ngathered and come together, he went on his way to the assembly holding\nin his hand a spear of bronze,\u2014not alone he went, for two swift hounds\nbare him company. Then Athene shed on him a wondrous grace, and all the\npeople marvelled at him as he came. And he sat him in his father\u2019s seat\nand the elders gave place to him.\n\nThen the lord Aegyptus spake among them first; bowed was he with age,\nand skilled in things past number. Now for this reason he spake that\nhis dear son, the warrior Antiphus, had gone in the hollow ships to\nIlios of the goodly steeds; but the savage Cyclops slew him in his\nhollow cave, and made of him then his latest meal. Three other sons\nAegyptus had, and one consorted with the wooers, namely Eurynomus, but\ntwo continued in their father\u2019s fields; yet even so forgat he not that\nson, still mourning and sorrowing. So weeping for his sake he made\nharangue and spake among them:\n\n\u201cHearken now to me, ye men of Ithaca, to the word that I shall say.\nNever hath our assembly or session been since the day that goodly\nOdysseus departed in the hollow ships. And now who was minded thus to\nassemble us? On what man hath such sore need come, of the young men or\nof the elder born? Hath he heard some tidings of the host now\nreturning, which he might plainly declare to us, for that he first\nlearned thereof, or doth he show forth and tell some other matter of\nthe common weal? Methinks he is a true man\u2014good luck be with him! Zeus\nvouchsafe him some good thing in his turn, even all his heart\u2019s\ndesire!\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and the dear son of Odysseus was glad at the omen of the\nword; nor sat he now much longer, but he burned to speak, and he stood\nin mid assembly; and the herald Peisenor, skilled in sage counsels,\nplaced the staff in his hands. Then he spake, accosting the old man\nfirst:\n\n\u201cOld man, he is not far off, and soon shalt thou know it for thyself,\nhe who called the folk together, even I: for sorrow hath come to me in\nchief. Neither have I heard any tidings of the host now returning,\nwhich I may plainly declare to you, for that I first learned thereof;\nneither do I show forth or tell any other matter of the common weal,\nbut mine own need, for that evil hath befallen my house, a double woe.\nFirst, I have lost my noble sire, who sometime was king among you here,\nand was gentle as a father; and now is there an evil yet greater far,\nwhich surely shall soon make grievous havoc of my whole house and ruin\nall my livelihood. My mother did certain wooers beset sore against her\nwill, even the sons of those men that here are the noblest. They are\ntoo craven to go to the house of her father Icarius, that he may\nhimself set the bride-price for his daughter, and bestow her on whom he\nwill, even on him who finds favour in his sight. But they resorting to\nour house day by day sacrifice oxen and sheep and fat goats, and keep\nrevel, and drink the dark wine recklessly, and lo, our great wealth is\nwasted, for there is no man now alive such as Odysseus was, to keep\nruin from the house. As for me I am nowise strong like him to ward mine\nown; verily to the end of my days[4] shall I be a weakling and all\nunskilled in prowess. Truly I would defend me if but strength were\nmine; for deeds past sufferance have now been wrought, and now my house\nis wasted utterly beyond pretence of right. Resent it in your own\nhearts, and have regard to your neighbours who dwell around, and\ntremble ye at the anger of the gods, lest haply they turn upon you in\nwrath at your evil deeds.[5]  I pray you by Olympian Zeus and by\nThemis, who looseth and gathereth the meetings of men, let be, my\nfriends, and leave me alone to waste in bitter grief;\u2014unless it so be\nthat my father, the good Odysseus, out of evil heart wrought harm to\nthe goodly-greaved Achaeans, in quittance whereof ye now work me harm\nout of evil hearts, and spur on these men. Better for me that ye\nyourselves should eat up my treasures and my flocks. Were _ye_ so to\ndevour them, ere long would some recompense be made, for we would urge\nour plea throughout the town, begging back our substance, until all\nshould be restored. But now without remedy are the pains that ye lay up\nin my heart.\u201d\n\n [4] Cf. B. xxi. 131. For the use of the 1st pers. pl. like our _royal_\n plural, cf. B. xvi. 44, Il. vii. 190.\n\n\n [5] Or, lest they bring your evil deeds in wrath on your own heads.\n\n\nSo spake he in wrath, and dashed the staff to the ground, and brake\nforth in tears; and pity fell on all the people. Then all the others\nheld their peace, and none had the heart to answer Telemachus with hard\nwords, but Antinous alone made answer, saying:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, proud of speech and unrestrained in fury, what is this\nthou hast said to put us to shame, and wouldest fasten on us reproach?\nBehold the fault is not in the Achaean wooers, but in thine own mother,\nfor she is the craftiest of women. For it is now the third year, and\nthe fourth is fast going by, since she began to deceive the minds of\nthe Achaeans in their breasts. She gives hope to all, and makes\npromises to every man, and sends them messages, but her mind is set on\nother things. And she hath devised in her heart this wile besides; she\nset up in her halls a mighty web, fine of woof and very wide, whereat\nshe would weave, and anon she spake among us:\n\n\u201c\u2018Ye princely youths, my wooers, now that the goodly Odysseus is dead,\ndo ye abide patiently, how eager soever to speed on this marriage of\nmine, till I finish the robe. I would not that the threads perish to no\navail, even this shroud for the hero Laertes, against the day when the\nruinous doom shall bring him low, of death that lays men at their\nlength. So shall none of the Achaean women in the land count it blame\nin me, as well might be, were he to lie without a winding-sheet, a man\nthat had gotten great possessions.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, and our high hearts consented thereto. So then in the\nday time she would weave the mighty web, and in the night unravel the\nsame, when she had let place the torches by her. Thus for the space of\nthree years she hid the thing by craft and beguiled the minds of the\nAchaeans; but when the fourth year arrived and the seasons came round,\nthen at the last one of her women who knew all declared it, and we\nfound her unravelling the splendid web. Thus she finished it perforce\nand sore against her will. But as for thee, the wooers make thee answer\nthus, that thou mayest know it in thine own heart, thou and all the\nAchaeans! Send away thy mother, and bid her be married to whomsoever\nher father commands, and whoso is well pleasing unto her. But if she\nwill continue for long to vex the sons of the Achaeans, pondering in\nher heart those things that Athene hath given her beyond women,\nknowledge of all fair handiwork, yea, and cunning wit, and wiles\u2014so be\nit! Such wiles as hers we have never yet heard that any even of the\nwomen of old did know, of those that aforetime were fair-tressed\nAchaean ladies, Tyro, and Alcmene, and Mycene with the bright crown.\nNot one of these in the imaginations of their hearts was like unto\nPenelope, yet herein at least her imagining was not good. For in\ndespite of her the wooers will devour thy living and thy substance, so\nlong as she is steadfast in such purpose as the gods now put within her\nbreast: great renown for herself she winneth, but for thee regret for\nthy much livelihood. But we will neither go to our own lands, nor\notherwhere, till she marry that man whom she will of the Achaeans.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cAntinous, I may in no wise\nthrust forth from the house, against her will, the woman that bare me,\nthat reared me: while as for my father he is abroad on the earth,\nwhether he be alive or dead. Moreover it is hard for me to make heavy\nrestitution to Icarius, as needs I must, if of mine own will I send my\nmother away. For I shall have evil at his hand, at the hand of her\nfather, and some god will give me more besides, for my mother will call\ndown the dire Avengers as she departs from the house, and I shall have\nblame of men; surely then I will never speak this word. Nay, if your\nown heart, even yours, is indignant, quit ye my halls, and busy\nyourselves with other feasts, eating your own substance, and going in\nturn from house to house. But if ye deem this a likelier and a better\nthing, that one man\u2019s goods should perish without atonement, then waste\nye as ye will: and I will call upon the everlasting gods, if haply Zeus\nmay grant that acts of recompense be made: so should ye hereafter\nperish in the halls without atonement.\u201d\n\nSo spake Telemachus, and in answer to his prayer did Zeus, of the far\nborne voice, send forth two eagles in flight, from on high, from the\nmountain-crest. Awhile they flew as fleet as the blasts of the wind,\nside by side, with straining of their pinions. But when they had now\nreached the mid assembly, the place of many voices, there they wheeled\nabout and flapped their strong wings, and looked down upon the heads of\nall, and destruction was in their gaze. Then tore they with their\ntalons each the other\u2019s cheeks and neck on every side, and so sped to\nthe right across the dwellings and the city of the people. And the men\nmarvelled at the birds when they had sight of them, and pondered in\ntheir hearts the things that should come to pass. Yea and the old man,\nthe lord Halitherses son of Mastor spake among them, for he excelled\nhis peers in knowledge of birds, and in uttering words of fate. With\ngood will he made harangue and spake among them:\n\n\u201cHearken to me now, ye men of Ithaca, to the word that I shall say: and\nmainly to the wooers do I show forth and tell these things, seeing that\na mighty woe is rolling upon them. For Odysseus shall not long be away\nfrom his friends, nay, even now, it may be, he is near, and sowing the\nseeds of death and fate for these men, every one; and he will be a bane\nto many another likewise of us who dwell in clear-seen Ithaca. But long\nere that falls out let us advise us how we may make an end of their\nmischief; yea, let them of their own selves make an end, for this is\nthe better way for them, as will soon be seen. For I prophesy not as\none unproved, but with sure knowledge; verily, I say, that for him all\nthings now are come to pass, even as I told him, what time the Argives\nembarked for Ilios, and with them went the wise Odysseus. I said that\nafter sore affliction, with the loss of all his company, unknown to\nall, in the twentieth year he should come home. And behold, all these\nthings now have an end.\u201d\n\nAnd Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him, saying: \u201cGo now, old man,\nget thee home and prophesy to thine own children, lest haply they\nsuffer harm hereafter: but herein am I a far better prophet than thou.\nHowbeit there be many birds that fly to and fro under the sun\u2019s rays,\nbut all are not birds of fate. Now as for Odysseus, he hath perished\nfar away, as would that thou too with him hadst been cut off: so\nwouldst thou not have babbled thus much prophecy, nor wouldst thou\nhound on Telemachus that is already angered, expecting a gift for thy\nhouse, if perchance he may vouchsafe thee aught. But now will I speak\nout, and my word shall surely be accomplished. If thou that knowest\nmuch lore from of old, shalt beguile with words a younger man, and\nrouse him to indignation, first it shall be a great grief to him:\u2014and\nyet he can count on no aid from these who hear him;\u2014while upon thee,\nold man, we will lay a fine, that thou mayest pay it and chafe at\nheart, and sore pain shall be thine. And I myself will give a word of\ncounsel to Telemachus in presence of you all. Let him command his\nmother to return to her father\u2019s house; and her kinsfolk will furnish a\nwedding feast, and array the gifts of wooing, exceeding many, all that\nshould go back with a daughter dearly beloved. For ere that, I trow, we\nsons of the Achaeans will not cease from our rough wooing, since, come\nwhat may, we fear not any man, no, not Telemachus, full of words though\nhe be, nor soothsaying do we heed, whereof thou, old man, pratest idly,\nand art hated yet the more. His substance too shall be woefully\ndevoured, nor shall recompense ever be made, so long as she shall put\noff the Achaeans in the matter of her marriage; while we in\nexpectation, from day to day, vie one with another for the prize of her\nperfection, nor go we after other women whom it were meet that we\nshould each one wed.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him saying: \u201cEurymachus, and ye others,\nthat are lordly wooers, I entreat you no more concerning this nor speak\nthereof, for the gods have knowledge of it now and all the Achaeans.\nBut come, give me a swift ship and twenty men, who shall accomplish for\nme my voyage to and fro. For I will go to Sparta and to sandy Pylos to\ninquire concerning the return of my father that is long afar, if\nperchance any man shall tell me aught, or if I may hear the voice from\nZeus, that chiefly brings tidings to men. If I shall hear news of the\nlife and the returning of my father, then verily I may endure the\nwasting for yet a year; but if I shall hear that he is dead and gone,\nlet me then return to my own dear country, and pile his mound, and over\nit pay burial rites full many as is due, and I will give my mother to a\nhusband.\u201d\n\nSo with that word he sat him down; then in the midst uprose Mentor, the\ncompanion of noble Odysseus. He it was to whom Odysseus, as he departed\nin the fleet, had given the charge over all his house, that it should\nobey the old man, and that he should keep all things safe. With good\nwill he now made harangue and spake among them:\n\n\u201cHearken to me now, ye men of Ithaca, to the word that I shall say.\nHenceforth let not any sceptred king be kind and gentle with all his\nheart, nor minded to do righteously, but let him alway be a hard man\nand work unrighteousness: for behold, there is none that remembereth\ndivine Odysseus of the people whose lord he was, and was gentle as a\nfather. Howsoever, it is not that I grudge the lordly wooers their\ndeeds of violence in the evil devices of their heart. For at the hazard\nof their own heads they violently devour the household of Odysseus, and\nsay of him that he will come no more again. But I am indeed wroth with\nthe rest of the people, to see how ye all sit thus speechless, and do\nnot cry shame upon the wooers, and put them down, ye that are so many\nand they so few.\u201d\n\nAnd Leocritus, son of Euenor, answered him, saying: \u201cMentor infatuate,\nwith thy wandering wits, what word hast thou spoken, that callest upon\nthem to put us down? Nay, it is a hard thing to fight about a feast,\nand that with men who are even more in number than you. Though Odysseus\nof Ithaca himself should come and were eager of heart to drive forth\nfrom the hall the lordly wooers that feast throughout his house, yet\nshould his wife have no joy of his coming, though she yearns for\nhim;\u2014but even there should he meet foul doom, if he fought with those\nthat outnumbered him; so thou hast not spoken aright. But as for the\npeople, come now, scatter yourselves each one to his own lands, but\nMentor and Halitherses will speed this man\u2019s voyage, for they are\nfriends of his house from of old. Yet after all, methinks, that long\ntime he will abide and seek tidings in Ithaca, and never accomplish\nthis voyage.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and in haste they broke up the assembly. So they were\nscattered each one to his own dwelling, while the wooers departed to\nthe house of divine Odysseus.\n\nThen Telemachus, going far apart to the shore of the sea, laved his\nhands in the grey sea water, and prayed unto Athene, saying: \u201cHear me,\nthou who yesterday didst come in thy godhead to our house, and badest\nme go in a ship across the misty seas, to seek tidings of the return of\nmy father that is long gone: but all this my purpose do the Achaeans\ndelay, and mainly the wooers in the naughtiness of their pride.\u201d\n\nSo spake he in prayer, and Athene drew nigh him in the likeness of\nMentor, in fashion and in voice, and she spake and hailed him in winged\nwords:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, even hereafter thou shalt not be craven or witless, if\nindeed thou hast a drop of thy father\u2019s blood and a portion of his\nspirit; such an one was he to fulfil both word and work. Nor, if this\nbe so, shall thy voyage be vain or unfulfilled. But if thou art not the\nvery seed of him and of Penelope, then have I no hope that thou wilt\naccomplish thy desire. For few children, truly, are like their father;\nlo, the more part are worse, yet a few are better than the sire. But\nsince thou shalt not even hereafter be craven or witless, nor hath the\nwisdom of Odysseus failed thee quite, so is there good hope of thine\naccomplishing this work. Wherefore now take no heed of the counsel or\nthe purpose of the senseless wooers, for they are in no way wise or\njust: neither know they aught of death and of black fate, which already\nis close upon them, that they are all to perish in one day. But the\nvoyage on which thy heart is set shall not long be lacking to thee\u2014so\nfaithful a friend of thy father am I, who will furnish thee a swift\nship and myself be thy companion. But go thou to the house, and consort\nwith the wooers, and make ready corn, and bestow all in vessels, the\nwine in jars and barley-flour, the marrow of men, in well-sewn skins;\nand I will lightly gather in the township a crew that offer themselves\nwillingly. There are many ships, new and old, in seagirt Ithaca; of\nthese I will choose out the best for thee, and we will quickly rig her\nand launch her on the broad deep.\u201d\n\nSo spake Athene, daughter of Zeus, and Telemachus made no long\ntarrying, when he had heard the voice of the goddess. He went on his\nway towards the house, heavy at heart, and there he found the noble\nwooers in the halls, flaying goats and singeing swine in the court. And\nAntinous laughed out and went straight to Telemachus, and clasped his\nhand and spake and hailed him:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, proud of speech and unrestrained in fury, let no evil word\nany more be in thy heart, nor evil work, but let me see thee eat and\ndrink as of old. And the Achaeans will make thee ready all things\nwithout fail, a ship and chosen oarsmen, that thou mayest come the\nquicker to fair Pylos, to seek tidings of thy noble father.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying, \u201cAntinous, in no wise in\nyour proud company can I sup in peace, and make merry with a quiet\nmind. Is it a little thing, ye wooers, that in time past ye wasted many\ngood things of my getting, while as yet I was a child? But now that I\nam a man grown, and learn the story from the lips of others, and my\nspirit waxeth within me, I will seek to let loose upon you evil fates,\nas I may, going either to Pylos for help, or abiding here in this\ntownship. Yea, I will go, nor vain shall the voyage be whereof I speak;\na passenger on another\u2019s ship go I, for I am not to have a ship nor\noarsmen of mine own; so in your wisdom ye have thought it for the\nbetter.\u201d\n\nHe spake and snatched his hand from out the hand of Antinous, lightly,\nand all the while the wooers were busy feasting through the house; and\nthey mocked him and sharply taunted him, and thus would some proud\nyouth speak:\n\n\u201cIn very truth Telemachus planneth our destruction. He will bring a\nrescue either from sandy Pylos, or even it may be from Sparta, so\nterribly is he set on slaying us. Or else he will go to Ephyra, a\nfruitful land, to fetch a poisonous drug that he may cast it into the\nbowl and make an end of all of us.\u201d\n\nAnd again another proud youth would say: \u201cWho knows but that he himself\nif he goes hence on the hollow ship, may perish wandering far from his\nfriends, even as Odysseus? So should we have yet more ado, for then\nmust we divide among us all his substance, and moreover give the house\nto his mother to possess it, and to him whosoever should wed her.\u201d\n\nSo spake they; but he stepped down into the vaulted treasure-chamber of\nhis father, a spacious room, where gold and bronze lay piled, and\nraiment in coffers, and fragrant olive oil in plenty. And there stood\ncasks of sweet wine and old, full of the unmixed drink divine, all\norderly ranged by the wall, ready if ever Odysseus should come home,\nalbeit after travail and much pain. And the close-fitted doors, the\nfolding doors, were shut, and night and day there abode within a dame\nin charge, who guarded all in the fulness of her wisdom, Eurycleia,\ndaughter of Ops son of Peisenor. Telemachus now called her into the\nchamber and spake unto her, saying:\n\n\u201cMother, come draw off for me sweet wine in jars, the choicest next to\nthat thou keepest mindful ever of that ill-fated one, Odysseus, of the\nseed of Zeus, if perchance he may come I know not whence, having\navoided death and the fates. So fill twelve jars, and close each with\nhis lid, and pour me barley-meal into well-sewn skins, and let there be\ntwenty measures of the grain of bruised barley-meal. Let none know this\nbut thyself! As for these things let them all be got together; for in\nthe evening I will take them with me, at the time that my mother hath\ngone to her upper chamber and turned her thoughts to sleep. Lo, to\nSparta I go and to sandy Pylos to seek tidings of my dear father\u2019s\nreturn, if haply I may hear thereof.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and the good nurse Eurycleia wailed aloud, and making\nlament spake to him winged words: \u201cAh, wherefore, dear child, hath such\na thought arisen in thine heart? How shouldst thou fare over wide\nlands, thou that art an only child and well-beloved? As for him he hath\nperished, Odysseus of the seed of Zeus, far from his own country in the\nland of strangers. And yonder men, so soon as thou art gone, will\ndevise mischief against thee thereafter, that thou mayest perish by\nguile, and they will share among them all this wealth of thine. Nay,\nabide here, settled on thine own lands: thou hast no need upon the deep\nunharvested to suffer evil and go wandering.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered her, saying: \u201cTake heart, nurse, for lo,\nthis my purpose came not but of a god. But swear to tell no word\nthereof to my dear mother, till at least it shall be the eleventh or\ntwelfth day from hence, or till she miss me of herself, and hear of my\ndeparture, that so she may not mar her fair face with her tears.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and the old woman sware a great oath by the gods not to\nreveal it. But when she had sworn and done that oath, straightway she\ndrew off the wine for him in jars, and poured barley-meal into\nwell-sewn skins, and Telemachus departed to the house and consorted\nwith the wooers.\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, turned to other thoughts. In the\nlikeness of Telemachus she went all through the city, and stood by each\none of the men and spake her saying, and bade them gather at even by\nthe swift ship. Furthermore, she craved a swift ship of No\u00ebmon, famous\nson of Phronius, and right gladly he promised it.\n\nNow the sun sank and all the ways were darkened. Then at length she let\ndrag the swift ship to the sea and stored within it all such tackling\nas decked ships carry. And she moored it at the far end of the harbour\nand the good company was gathered together, and the goddess cheered on\nall.\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, turned to other thoughts. She went\non her way to the house of divine Odysseus; and there she shed sweet\nsleep upon the wooers and made them distraught in their drinking, and\ncast the cups from their hands. And they arose up to go to rest\nthroughout the city, nor sat they yet a long while, for slumber was\nfalling on their eyelids. Now grey-eyed Athene spake unto Telemachus,\nand called him from out the fair-lying halls, taking the likeness of\nMentor, both in fashion and in voice:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, thy goodly-greaved companions are sitting already at their\noars, it is thy despatch they are awaiting. Nay then, let us go, that\nwe delay them not long from the way.\u201d\n\nTherewith Pallas Athene led the way quickly, and he followed hard in\nthe steps of the goddess. Now when they had come down to the ship and\nto the sea, they found the long-haired youths of the company on the\nshore; and the mighty prince Telemachus spake among them:\n\n\u201cCome hither, friends, let us carry the corn on board, for all is now\ntogether in the room, and my mother knows nought thereof, nor any of\nthe maidens of the house: one woman only heard my saying.\u201d\n\nThus he spake and led the way, and they went with him. So they brought\nall and stowed it in the decked ship, according to the word of the dear\nson of Odysseus. Then Telemachus climbed the ship, and Athene went\nbefore him, and behold, she sat her down in the stern, and near her sat\nTelemachus. And the men loosed the hawsers and climbed on board\nthemselves and sat down upon the benches. And grey-eyed Athene sent\nthem a favourable gale, a fresh West Wind, singing over the wine-dark\nsea.\n\nAnd Telemachus called unto his company and bade them lay hands on the\ntackling, and they hearkened to his call. So they raised the mast of\npine tree and set it in the hole of the cross plank, and made it fast\nwith forestays, and hauled up the white sails with twisted ropes of\noxhide. And the wind filled the belly of the sail, and the dark wave\nseethed loudly round the stem of the running ship, and she fleeted over\nthe wave, accomplishing her path. Then they made all fast in the swift\nblack ship, and set mixing bowls brimmed with wine, and poured drink\noffering to the deathless gods that are from everlasting, and in chief\nto the grey-eyed daughter of Zeus. So all night long and through the\ndawn the ship cleft her way.\n\n\n\nBOOK III.\n\n\nNestor entertains Telemachus at Pylos and tells him how the Greeks\ndeparted from Troy; and sends him for further information to Sparta.\n\n\nNow the sun arose and left the lovely mere, speeding to the brazen\nheaven, to give light to the immortals and to mortal men on the earth,\nthe graingiver, and they reached Pylos, the stablished castle of\nNeleus. There the people were doing sacrifice on the sea shore, slaying\nblack bulls without spot to the dark-haired god, the shaker of the\nearth. Nine companies there were, and five hundred men sat in each, and\nin every company they held nine bulls ready to hand. Just as they had\ntasted the inner parts, and were burning the slices of the thighs on\nthe altar to the god, the others were bearing straight to land, and\nbrailed up the sails of the gallant ship, and moored her, and\nthemselves came forth. And Telemachus too stept forth from the ship,\nand Athene led the way. And the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake first\nto him, saying:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, thou needst not now be abashed, no, not one whit. For to\nthis very end didst thou sail over the deep, that thou mightest hear\ntidings of thy father, even where the earth closed over him, and what\nmanner of death he met. But come now, go straight to Nestor, tamer of\nhorses: let us learn what counsel he hath in the secret of his heart.\nAnd beseech him thyself that he may give unerring answer; and he will\nnot lie to thee, for he is very wise.\u201d\n\nThe wise Telemachus answered, saying: \u201cMentor, and how shall I go, how\nshall I greet him, I, who am untried in words of wisdom? Moreover a\nyoung man may well be abashed to question an elder.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake to him again: \u201cTelemachus,\nthou shalt bethink thee of somewhat in thine own breast, and somewhat\nthe god will give thee to say. For thou, methinks, of all men wert not\nborn and bred without the will of the gods.\u201d\n\nSo spake Pallas Athene and led the way quickly; and he followed hard in\nthe steps of the goddess. And they came to the gathering and the\nsession of the men of Pylos. There was Nestor seated with his sons, and\nround him his company making ready the feast, and roasting some of the\nflesh and spitting other. Now when they saw the strangers, they went\nall together, and clasped their hands in welcome, and would have them\nsit down. First Peisistratus, son of Nestor, drew nigh, and took the\nhands of each, and made them to sit down at the feast on soft fleeces\nupon the sea sand, beside his brother Thrasymedes and his father. And\nhe gave them messes of the inner meat, and poured wine into a golden\ncup, and pledging her, he spake unto Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus,\nlord of the aegis:\n\n\u201cPray now, my guest, to the lord Poseidon, even as it is his feast\nwhereon ye have chanced in coming hither. And when thou hast made drink\noffering and prayed, as is due, give thy friend also the cup of honeyed\nwine to make offering thereof, inasmuch as he too, methinks, prayeth to\nthe deathless gods, for all men stand in need of the gods. Howbeit he\nis younger and mine own equal in years, therefore to thee first will I\ngive the golden chalice.\u201d\n\nTherewith he placed in her hand the cup of sweet wine. And Athene\nrejoiced in the wisdom and judgment of the man, in that he had given to\nher first the chalice of gold. And straightway she prayed, and that\ninstantly, to the lord Poseidon:\n\n\u201cHear me, Poseidon, girdler of the earth, and grudge not the fulfilment\nof this labour in answer to our prayer. To Nestor first and to his sons\nvouchsafe renown, and thereafter grant to all the people of Pylos a\ngracious recompense for this splendid hecatomb. Grant moreover that\nTelemachus and I may return, when we have accomplished that for which\nwe came hither with our swift black ship.\u201d\n\nNow as she prayed on this wise, herself the while was fulfilling the\nprayer. And she gave Telemachus the fair two-handled cup; and in like\nmanner prayed the dear son of Odysseus. Then, when the others had\nroasted the outer parts and drawn them off the spits, they divided the\nmesses and shared the glorious feast. But when they had put from them\nthe desire of meat and drink, Nestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots,\nfirst spake among them:\n\n\u201cNow is the better time to enquire and ask of the strangers who they\nare, now that they have had their delight of food. Strangers, who are\nye? Whence sail ye over the wet ways? On some trading enterprise, or at\nadventure do ye rove, even as sea-robbers, over the brine, for they\nwander at hazard of their own lives bringing bale to alien men?\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him and spake with courage, for Athene\nherself had put boldness in his heart, that he might ask about his\nfather who was afar, and that he might be had in good report among men:\n\n\u201cNestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, thou askest whence\nwe are, and I will surely tell thee all. We have come forth out of\nIthaca that is below Ne\u00efon; and this our quest whereof I speak is a\nmatter of mine own, and not of the common weal. I follow after the\nfar-spread rumour of my father, if haply I may hear thereof, even of\nthe goodly steadfast Odysseus, who upon a time, men say, fought by thy\nside and sacked the city of the Trojans. For of all the others, as many\nas warred with the Trojans, we hear tidings, and where each one fell by\na pitiful death; but even the death of this man Cronion hath left\nuntold. For none can surely declare the place where he hath perished,\nwhether he was smitten by foemen on the mainland, or lost upon the deep\namong the waves of Amphitrite. So now am I come hither to thy knees, if\nperchance thou art willing to tell me of his pitiful death, as one that\nsaw it with thine own eyes, or heard the story from some other\nwanderer,\u2014for his mother bare him to exceeding sorrow. And speak me no\nsoft words in ruth or pity, but tell me plainly what sight thou didst\nget of him. Ah! I pray thee, if ever at all my father, noble Odysseus,\nmade promise to thee of word or work, and fulfilled the same in the\nland of the Trojans, where ye Achaeans suffered affliction; these\nthings, I pray thee, now remember and tell me truth.\u201d\n\nThen Nestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots, answered him: \u201cMy friend,\nsince thou hast brought sorrow back to mind, behold, this is the story\nof the woe which we endured in that land, we sons of the Achaeans,\nunrestrained in fury, and of all that we bore in wanderings after\nspoil, sailing with our ships over the misty deep, wheresoever Achilles\nled; and of all our war round the mighty burg of king Priam. Yea and\nthere the best of us were slain. There lies valiant Aias, and there\nAchilles, and there Patroclus, the peer of the gods in counsel, and\nthere my own dear son, strong and noble, Antilochus, that excelled in\nspeed of foot and in the fight. And many other ills we suffered beside\nthese; who of mortal men could tell the tale? Nay none, though thou\nwert to abide here for five years, ay and for six, and ask of all the\nills which the goodly Achaeans then endured. Ere all was told thou\nwouldst be weary and turn to thine own country. For nine whole years we\nwere busy about them, devising their ruin with all manner of craft; and\nscarce did Cronion bring it to pass. There never a man durst match with\nhim in wisdom, for goodly Odysseus very far outdid the rest in all\nmanner of craft, Odysseus thy father, if indeed thou art his\nson,\u2014amazement comes upon me as I look at thee; for verily thy speech\nis like unto his; none would say that a younger man would speak so like\nan elder. Now look you, all the while that myself and goodly Odysseus\nwere there, we never spake diversely either in the assembly or in the\ncouncil, but always were of one mind, and advised the Argives with\nunderstanding and sound counsel, how all might be for the very best.\nBut after we had sacked the steep city of Priam, and had departed in\nour ships, and a god had scattered the Achaeans, even then did Zeus\ndevise in his heart a pitiful returning for the Argives, for in no wise\nwere they all discreet or just. Wherefore many of them met with an ill\nfaring by reason of the deadly wrath of the grey-eyed goddess, the\ndaughter of the mighty sire, who set debate between the two sons of\nAtreus. And they twain called to the gathering of the host all the\nAchaeans, recklessly and out of order, against the going down of the\nsun; and lo, the sons of the Achaeans came heavy with wine. And the\nAtreidae spake out and told the reason wherefore they had assembled the\nhost. Then verily Menelaus charged all the Achaeans to bethink them of\nreturning over the broad back of the sea, but in no sort did he please\nAgamemnon, whose desire was to keep back the host and to offer holy\nhecatombs, that so he might appease that dread wrath of Athene. Fool!\nfor he knew not this, that she was never to be won; for the mind of the\neverlasting gods is not lightly turned to repentance. So these twain\nstood bandying hard words; but the goodly-greaved Achaeans sprang up\nwith a wondrous din, and twofold counsels found favour among them. So\nthat one night we rested, thinking hard things against each other, for\nZeus was fashioning for us a ruinous doom. But in the morning, we of\nthe one part drew our ships to the fair salt sea, and put aboard our\nwealth, and the low-girdled Trojan women. Now one half the people abode\nsteadfastly there with Agamemnon, son of Atreus, shepherd of the host;\nand half of us embarked and drave to sea and swiftly the ships sailed,\nfor a god made smooth the sea with the depths thereof. And when we came\nto Tenedos, we did sacrifice to the gods, being eager for the homeward\nway; but Zeus did not yet purpose our returning, nay, hard was he, that\nroused once more an evil strife among us. Then some turned back their\ncurved ships, and went their way, even the company of Odysseus, the\nwise and manifold in counsel, once again showing a favour to Agamemnon,\nson of Atreus. But I fled on with the squadron that followed me, for I\nknew how now the god imagined mischief. And the warlike son of Tydeus\nfled and roused his men thereto. And late in our track came Menelaus of\nthe fair hair, who found us in Lesbos, considering about the long\nvoyage, whether we should go sea-ward of craggy Chios, by the isle of\nPsyria, keeping the isle upon our left, or inside Chios past windy\nMimas. So we asked the god to show us a sign, and a sign he declared to\nus, and bade us cleave a path across the middle sea to Euboea, that we\nmight flee the swiftest way from sorrow. And a shrill wind arose and\nblew, and the ships ran most fleetly over the teeming ways, and in the\nnight they touched at Geraestus. So there we sacrificed many thighs of\nbulls to Poseidon, for joy that we had measured out so great a stretch\nof sea. It was the fourth day when the company of Diomede son of\nTydeus, tamer of horses, moored their gallant ships at Argos; but I\nheld on for Pylos, and the breeze was never quenched from the hour that\nthe god sent it forth to blow. Even so I came, dear child, without\ntidings, nor know I aught of those others, which of the Achaeans were\nsaved and which were lost. But all that I hear tell of as I sit in our\nhalls, thou shalt learn as it is meet, and I will hide nothing from\nthee. Safely, they say, came the Myrmidons the wild spearsmen, whom the\nfamous son of high-souled Achilles led; and safely Philoctetes, the\nglorious son of Poias. And Idomeneus brought all his company to Crete,\nall that escaped the war, and from him the sea gat none. And of the son\nof Atreus even yourselves have heard, far apart though ye dwell, how he\ncame, and how Aegisthus devised his evil end; but verily he himself\npaid a terrible reckoning. So good a thing it is that a son of the dead\nshould still be left, even as that son also took vengeance on the\nslayer of his father, guileful Aegisthus, who slew his famous sire. And\nthou too, my friend, for I see thee very comely and tall, be valiant,\nthat even men unborn may praise thee.\u201d\n\nAnd wise Telemachus answered him, and said: \u201cNestor, son of Neleus,\ngreat glory of the Achaeans, verily and indeed he avenged himself, and\nthe Achaeans shall noise his fame abroad, that even those may hear who\nare yet for to be. Oh that the gods would clothe me with such strength\nas his, that I might take vengeance on the wooers for their cruel\ntransgression, who wantonly devise against me infatuate deeds! But the\ngods have woven for me the web of no such weal, for me or for my sire.\nBut now I must in any wise endure it.\u201d\n\nThen Nestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots, made answer: \u201cDear friend,\nseeing thou dost call these things to my remembrance and speak thereof,\nthey tell me that many wooers for thy mother\u2019s hand plan mischief\nwithin the halls in thy despite. Say, dost thou willingly submit thee\nto oppression, or do the people through the land hate thee, obedient to\nthe voice of a god? Who knows but that Odysseus may some day come and\nrequite their violence, either himself alone or all the host of the\nAchaeans with him? Ah, if but grey-eyed Athene were inclined to love\nthee, as once she cared exceedingly for the renowned Odysseus in the\nland of the Trojans, where we Achaeans were sore afflicted, for never\nyet have I seen the gods show forth such manifest love, as then did\nPallas Athene standing manifest by him,\u2014if she would be pleased so to\nlove thee and to care for thee, then might certain of them clean forget\ntheir marriage.\u201d\n\nAnd wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cOld man, in no wise methinks\nshall this word be accomplished. This is a hard saying of thine, awe\ncomes over me. Not for my hopes shall this thing come to pass, not even\nif the gods so willed it.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake to him again: \u201cTelemachus,\nwhat word hath escaped the door of thy lips? Lightly might a god, if so\nhe would, bring a man safe home even from afar. Rather myself would I\nhave travail and much pain ere I came home and saw the day of my\nreturning, than come back and straightway perish on my own\nhearth-stone, even as Agamemnon perished by guile at the hands of his\nown wife and of Aegisthus. But lo you, death, which is common to all,\nthe very gods cannot avert even from the man they love, when the\nruinous doom shall bring him low of death that lays men at their\nlength.\u201d\n\nAnd wise Telemachus answered her, saying: \u201cMentor, no longer let us\ntell of these things, sorrowful though we be. There is none assurance\nany more of his returning, but already have the deathless gods devised\nfor him death and black fate. But now I would question Nestor, and ask\nhim of another matter, as one who above all men knows judgments and\nwisdom: for thrice, men say, he hath been king through the generations\nof men; yea, like an immortal he seems to me to look upon. Nestor, son\nof Neleus, now tell me true: how died the son of Atreus, Agamemnon of\nthe wide domain? Where was Menelaus? What death did crafty Aegisthus\nplan for him, in that he killed a man more valiant far than he? Or was\nMenelaus not in Argos of Achaia but wandering elsewhere among men, and\nthat other took heart and slew Agamemnon?\u201d\n\nThen Nestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots, answered him: \u201cYea now, my\nchild, I will tell thee the whole truth. Verily thou guessest aright\neven of thyself how things would have fallen out, if Menelaus of the\nfair hair, the son of Atreus, when he came back from Troy, had found\nAegisthus yet alive in the halls. Then even in his death would they not\nhave heaped the piled earth over him, but dogs and fowls of the air\nwould have devoured him as he lay on the plain far from the town.[6]\nNor would any of the Achaean women have bewailed him; so dread was the\ndeed he contrived. Now we sat in leaguer there, achieving many\nadventures; but he the while in peace in the heart of Argos, the\npastureland of horses, spake ofttimes, tempting her, to the wife of\nAgamemnon. Verily at the first she would none of the foul deed, the\nfair Clytemnestra, for she had a good understanding. Moreover there was\nwith her a minstrel, whom the son of Atreus straitly charged as he went\nto Troy to have a care of his wife. But when at last the doom of the\ngods bound her to her ruin, then did Aegisthus carry the minstrel to a\nlonely isle, and left him there to be the prey and spoil of birds;\nwhile as for her, he led her to his house, a willing lover with a\nwilling lady. And he burnt many thigh slices upon the holy altars of\nthe gods, and hung up many offerings, woven-work and gold, seeing that\nhe had accomplished a great deed, beyond all hope. Now we, I say, were\nsailing together on our way from Troy, the son of Atreus and I, as\nloving friends. But when we had reached holy Sunium, the headland of\nAthens, there Phoebus Apollo slew the pilot of Menelaus with the\nvisitation of his gentle shafts, as he held between his hands the\nrudder of the running ship, even Phrontis, son of Onetor, who excelled\nthe tribes of men in piloting a ship, whenso the storm-winds were\nhurrying by. Thus was Menelaus holden there, though eager for the way,\ntill he might bury his friend and pay the last rites over him. But when\nhe in his turn, faring over the wine-dark sea in hollow ships, reached\nin swift course the steep mount of Malea, then it was that Zeus of the\nfar-borne voice devised a hateful path, and shed upon them the breath\nof the shrill winds, and great swelling waves arose like unto\nmountains. There sundered he the fleet in twain, and part thereof he\nbrought nigh to Crete, where the Cydonians dwelt about the streams of\nIardanus. Now there is a certain cliff, smooth and sheer towards the\nsea, on the border of Gortyn, in the misty deep, where the South-West\nWind drives a great wave against the left headland, towards Phaestus,\nand a little rock keeps back the mighty water. Thither came one part of\nthe fleet, and the men scarce escaped destruction, but the ships were\nbroken by the waves against the rock; while those other five\ndark-prowed ships the wind and the water bare and brought nigh to\nEgypt. Thus Menelaus, gathering much livelihood and gold, was wandering\nthere with his ships among men of strange speech, and even then\nAegisthus planned that pitiful work at home. And for seven years he\nruled over Mycenae, rich in gold, after he slew the son of Atreus, and\nthe people were subdued unto him. But in the eighth year came upon him\ngoodly Orestes back from Athens to be his bane, and slew the slayer of\nhis father, guileful Aegisthus, who killed his famous sire. Now when he\nhad slain him, he made a funeral feast to the Argives over his hateful\nmother, and over the craven Aegisthus. And on the selfsame day there\ncame to him Menelaus of the loud war-cry, bringing much treasure, even\nall the freight of his ships. So thou, my friend, wander not long far\naway from home, leaving thy substance behind thee and men in thy house\nso wanton, lest they divide and utterly devour all thy wealth, and thou\nshalt have gone on a vain journey. Rather I bid and command thee to go\nto Menelaus, for he hath lately come from a strange country, from the\nland of men whence none would hope in his heart to return, whom once\nthe storms have driven wandering into so wide a sea. Thence not even\nthe birds can make their way in the space of one year, so great a sea\nit is and terrible. But go now with thy ship and with thy company, or\nif thou hast a mind to fare by land, I have a chariot and horses at thy\nservice, yea and my sons to do thy will, who will be thy guides to\ngoodly Lacedaemon, where is Menelaus of the fair hair. Do thou thyself\nentreat him, that he may give thee unerring answer. He will not lie to\nthee, for he is very wise.\u201d\n\n [6] Reading \u1f04\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2. v. 1. \u1f0c\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2, which must be wrong.\n\n\nThus he spake, and the sun went down and darkness came on. Then the\ngoddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake among them, saying: \u201cYea, old man,\nthou hast told all this thy tale aright. But come, cut up the tongues\nof the victims and mix the wine, that we may pour forth before Poseidon\nand the other deathless gods, and so may bethink us of sleep, for it is\nthe hour for sleep. For already has the light gone beneath the west,\nand it is not seemly to sit long at a banquet of the gods, but to be\ngoing home.\u201d\n\nSo spake the daughter of Zeus, and they hearkened to her voice. And the\nhenchmen poured water over their hands, and pages crowned the mixing\nbowls with drink, and served out the wine to all, after they had first\npoured for libation into each cup in turn; and they cast the tongues\nupon the fire, and stood up and poured the drink-offering thereon. But\nwhen they had poured forth and had drunken to their heart\u2019s content,\nAthene and godlike Telemachus were both set on returning to the hollow\nship; but Nestor would have stayed them, and accosted them, saying:\n\u201cZeus forfend it, and all the other deathless gods, that ye should\ndepart from my house to the swift ship, as from the dwelling of one\nthat is utterly without raiment or a needy man, who hath not rugs or\nblankets many in his house whereon to sleep softly, he or his guests.\nNay not so, I have rugs and fair blankets by me. Never, methinks, shall\nthe dear son of this man, even of Odysseus, lay him down upon the\nship\u2019s deck, while as yet I am alive, and my children after me are left\nin my hall to entertain strangers, whoso may chance to come to my\nhouse.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake to him again: \u201cYea, herein\nhast thou spoken aright, dear father: and Telemachus may well obey\nthee, for before all things this is meet. Behold, he shall now depart\nwith thee, that he may sleep in thy halls; as for me I will go to the\nblack ship, that I may cheer my company and tell them all. For I avow\nme to be the one elder among them; those others are but younger men,\nwho follow for love of him, all of them of like age with the\nhigh-souled Telemachus. There will I lay me down by the black hollow\nship this night; but in the morning I will go to the Cauconians high of\nheart, where somewhat of mine is owing to me, no small debt nor of\nyesterday. But do thou send this man upon his way with thy chariot and\nthy son, since he hath come to thy house, and give him horses the\nlightest of foot and chief in strength.\u201d\n\nTherewith grey-eyed Athene departed in the semblance of a sea-eagle;\nand amazement fell on all that saw it, and the old man he marvelled\nwhen his eyes beheld it. And he took the hand of Telemachus and spake\nand hailed him:\n\n\u201cMy friend, methinks that thou wilt in no sort be a coward and a\nweakling, if indeed in thy youth the gods thus follow with thee to be\nthy guides. For truly this is none other of those who keep the mansions\nof Olympus, save only the daughter of Zeus, the driver of the spoil,\nthe maiden Trito-born, she that honoured thy good father too among the\nArgives. Nay be gracious, queen, and vouchsafe a goodly fame to me,\neven to me and to my sons and to my wife revered. And I in turn will\nsacrifice to thee a yearling heifer, broad of brow, unbroken, which man\nnever yet hath led beneath the yoke. Such an one will I offer to thee,\nand gild her horns with gold.\u201d\n\nEven so he spake in prayer, and Pallas Athene heard him. Then Nestor of\nGerenia, lord of chariots, led them, even his sons and the husbands of\nhis daughters, to his own fair house. But when they had reached this\nprince\u2019s famous halls, they sat down all orderly on seats and high\nchairs; and when they were come, the old man mixed well for them a bowl\nof sweet wine, which now in the eleventh year from the vintaging the\nhousewife opened, and unloosed the string that fastened the lid. The\nold man let mix a bowl thereof, and prayed instantly to Athene as he\npoured forth before her, even to the daughter of Zeus, lord of the\naegis.\n\nBut after they had poured forth and had drunken to their heart\u2019s\ncontent, these went each one to his own house to lie down to rest. But\nNestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots, would needs have Telemachus, son\nof divine Odysseus, to sleep there on a jointed bedstead beneath the\nechoing gallery, and by him Peisistratus of the good ashen spear,\nleader of men, who alone of his sons was yet unwed in his halls. As for\nhim he slept within the inmost chamber of the lofty house, and the lady\nhis wife arrayed for him bedstead and bedding.\n\nSo soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, Nestor of\nGerenia, lord of chariots, gat him up from his bed, and he went forth\nand sat him down upon the smooth stones, which were before his lofty\ndoors, all polished, white and glistening, whereon Neleus sat of old,\nin counsel the peer of the gods. Howbeit, stricken by fate, he had ere\nnow gone down to the house of Hades, and to-day Nestor of Gerenia in\nhis turn sat thereon, warder of the Achaeans, with his staff in his\nhands. And about him his sons were gathered and come together, issuing\nfrom their chambers, Echephron and Stratius, and Perseus and Aretus and\nthe godlike Thrasymedes. And sixth and last came the hero Peisistratus.\nAnd they led godlike Telemachus and set him by their side, and Nestor\nof Gerenia, lord of chariots, spake first among them:\n\n\u201cQuickly, my dear children, accomplish my desire, that first of all the\ngods I may propitiate Athene, who came to me in visible presence to the\nrich feast of the god. Nay then, let one go to the plain for a heifer,\nthat she may come as soon as may be, and that the neat-herd may drive\nher: and let another go to the black ship of high-souled Telemachus to\nbring all his company, and let him leave two men only. And let one\nagain bid Laerces the goldsmith to come hither that he may gild the\nhorns of the heifer. And ye others, abide ye here together and speak to\nthe handmaids within that they make ready a banquet through our famous\nhalls, and fetch seats and logs to set about the altar, and bring clear\nwater.\u201d\n\nThus he spake and lo, they all hastened to the work. The heifer she\ncame from the field, and from the swift gallant ship came the company\nof great-hearted Telemachus; the smith came holding in his hands his\ntools, the instruments of his craft, anvil and hammer and well-made\npincers, wherewith he wrought the gold; Athene too came to receive her\nsacrifice. And the old knight Nestor gave gold, and the other fashioned\nit skilfully, and gilded therewith the horns of the heifer, that the\ngoddess might be glad at the sight of her fair offering. And Stratius\nand goodly Echephron led the heifer by the horns. And Aretus came forth\nfrom the chamber bearing water for the washing of hands in a basin of\nflowered work, and in the other hand he held the barley-meal in a\nbasket; and Thrasymedes, steadfast in the battle, stood by holding in\nhis hand a sharp axe, ready to smite the heifer. And Perseus held the\ndish for the blood, and the old man Nestor, driver of chariots,\nperformed the first rite of the washing of hands and the sprinkling of\nthe meal, and he prayed instantly to Athene as he began the rite,\ncasting into the fire the lock from the head of the victim.\n\nNow when they had prayed and tossed the sprinkled grain, straightway\nthe son of Nestor, gallant Thrasymedes, stood by and struck the blow;\nand the axe severed the tendons of the neck and loosened the might of\nthe heifer; and the women raised their cry, the daughters and the sons\u2019\nwives and the wife revered of Nestor, Eurydice, eldest of the daughters\nof Clymenus. And now they lifted the victim\u2019s head from the wide-wayed\nearth, and held it so, while Peisistratus, leader of men, cut the\nthroat. And after the black blood had gushed forth and the life had\nleft the bones, quickly they broke up the body, and anon cut slices\nfrom the thighs all duly, and wrapt the same in the fat, folding them\ndouble, and laid raw flesh thereon. So that old man burnt them on the\ncleft wood, and poured over them the red wine, and by his side the\nyoung men held in their hands the five-pronged forks. Now after that\nthe thighs were quite consumed and they had tasted the inner parts,\nthey cut the rest up small and spitted and roasted it, holding the\nsharp spits in their hands.\n\nMeanwhile she bathed Telemachus, even fair Polycaste, the youngest\ndaughter of Nestor, son of Neleus. And after she had bathed him and\nanointed him with olive oil, and cast about him a goodly mantle and a\ndoublet, he came forth from the bath in fashion like the deathless\ngods. So he went and sat him down by Nestor, shepherd of the people.\n\nNow when they had roasted the outer flesh, and drawn it off the spits,\nthey sat down and fell to feasting, and honourable men waited on them,\npouring wine into the golden cups. But when they had put from them the\ndesire of meat and drink, Nestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots, first\nspake among them:\n\n\u201cLo now, my sons, yoke for Telemachus horses with flowing mane and lead\nthem beneath the car, that he may get forward on his way.\u201d\n\nEven so he spake, and they gave good heed and hearkened; and quickly\nthey yoked the swift horses beneath the chariot. And the dame that kept\nthe stores placed therein corn and wine and dainties, such as princes\neat, the fosterlings of Zeus. So Telemachus stept up into the goodly\ncar, and with him Peisistratus son of Nestor, leader of men, likewise\nclimbed the car and grasped the reins in his hands, and he touched the\nhorses with the whip to start them, and nothing loth the pair flew\ntowards the plain, and left the steep citadel of Pylos. So all day long\nthey swayed the yoke they bore upon their necks.\n\nNow the sun sank and all the ways were darkened. And they came to\nPherae, to the house of Diocles, son of Orsilochus, the child begotten\nof Alpheus. There they rested for the night, and by them he set the\nentertainment of strangers.\n\nNow so soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, they yoked\nthe horses and mounted the inlaid car. And forth they drave from the\ngateway and the echoing gallery, and Peisistratus touched the horses\nwith the whip to start them, and the pair flew onward nothing loth. So\nthey came to the wheat-bearing plain, and thenceforth they pressed\ntoward the end: in such wise did the swift horses speed forward. Now\nthe sun sank and all the ways were darkened.\n\n\n\nBOOK IV.\n\n\nTelemachus\u2019 entertainment at Sparta, where Menelaus tells him what\nbefell many of the Greeks on their return; that Odysseus was with\nCalypso in the isle Ogygia, as he was told by Proteus.\n\n\nAnd they came to Lacedaemon lying low among the caverned hills, and\ndrave to the dwelling of renowned Menelaus. Him they found giving a\nfeast in his house to many friends of his kin, a feast for the wedding\nof his noble son and daughter. His daughter he was sending to the son\nof Achilles, cleaver of the ranks of men, for in Troy he first had\npromised and covenanted to give her, and now the gods were bringing\nabout their marriage. So now he was speeding her on her way with\nchariot and horses, to the famous city of the Myrmidons, among whom her\nlord bare rule. And for his son he was bringing to his home the\ndaughter of Alector out of Sparta, for his well-beloved son, strong\nMegapenthes,[7] born of a slave woman, for the gods no more showed\npromise of seed to Helen, from the day that she bare a lovely child,\nHermione, as fair as golden Aphrodite. So they were feasting through\nthe great vaulted hall, the neighbours and the kinsmen of renowned\nMenelaus, making merry; and among them a divine minstrel was singing to\nthe lyre, and as he began the song two tumblers in the company whirled\nthrough the midst of them.\n\n [7] A son of sorrow: Tristram.\n\n\nMeanwhile those twain, the hero Telemachus and the splendid son of\nNestor, made halt at the entry of the gate, they and their horses. And\nthe lord Eteoneus came forth and saw them, the ready squire of renowned\nMenelaus; and he went through the palace to bear the tidings to the\nshepherd of the people, and standing near spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cMenelaus, fosterling of Zeus, here are two strangers, whosoever they\nbe, two men like to the lineage of great Zeus. Say, shall we loose\ntheir swift horses from under the yoke, or send them onward to some\nother host who shall receive them kindly?\u201d\n\nThen in sore displeasure spake to him Menelaus of the fair hair:\n\u201cEteoneus son of Boethous, truly thou wert not a fool aforetime, but\nnow for this once, like a child thou talkest folly. Surely ourselves\nate much hospitable cheer of other men, ere we twain came hither, even\nif in time to come Zeus haply give us rest from affliction. Nay go,\nunyoke the horses of the strangers, and as for the men, lead them\nforward to the house to feast with us.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Eteoneus hasted from the hall, and called the other\nready squires to follow with him. So they loosed the sweating horses\nfrom beneath the yoke, and fastened them at the stalls of the horses,\nand threw beside them spelt, and therewith mixed white barley, and\ntilted the chariot against the shining faces of the gateway, and led\nthe men into the hall divine. And they beheld and marvelled as they\ngazed throughout the palace of the king, the fosterling of Zeus; for\nthere was a gleam as it were of sun or moon through the lofty palace of\nrenowned Menelaus. But after they had gazed their fill, they went to\nthe polished baths and bathed them. Now when the maidens had bathed\nthem and anointed them with olive oil, and cast about them thick cloaks\nand doublets, they sat on chairs by Menelaus, son of Atreus. And a\nhandmaid bare water for the hands in a goodly golden ewer, and poured\nit forth over a silver basin to wash withal; and to their side she drew\na polished table, and a grave dame bare food and set it by them, and\nlaid upon the board many dainties, giving freely of such things as she\nhad by her, and a carver lifted and placed by them platters of divers\nkinds of flesh, and nigh them he set golden bowls. So Menelaus of the\nfair hair greeted the twain and spake:\n\n\u201cTaste ye food and be glad, and thereafter when ye have supped, we will\nask what men ye are; for the blood of your parents is not lost in you,\nbut ye are of the line of men that are sceptred kings, the fosterlings\nof Zeus; for no churls could beget sons like you.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and took and set before them the fat ox-chine roasted,\nwhich they had given him as his own mess by way of honour. And they\nstretched forth their hands upon the good cheer set before them. Now\nwhen they had put from them the desire of meat and drink Telemachus\nspake to the son of Nestor, holding his head close to him, that those\nothers might not hear:\n\n\u201cSon of Nestor, delight of my heart, mark the flashing of bronze\nthrough the echoing halls, and the flashing of gold and of amber and of\nsilver and of ivory. Such like, methinks, is the court of Olympian Zeus\nwithin, for the world of things that are here; wonder comes over me as\nI look thereon.\u201d\n\nAnd as he spake Menelaus of the fair hair was ware of him, and uttering\nhis voice spake to them winged words:\n\n\u201cChildren dear, of a truth no one of mortal men may contend with Zeus,\nfor his mansions and his treasures are everlasting: but of men there\nmay be who will vie with me in treasure, or there may be none. Yea, for\nafter many a woe and wanderings manifold, I brought my wealth home in\nships, and in the eighth year came hither. I roamed over Cyprus and\nPhoenicia and Egypt, and reached the Aethiopians and Sidonians and\nErembi and Libya, where lambs are horned from the birth. For there the\newes yean thrice within the full circle of a year; there neither lord\nnor shepherd lacketh aught of cheese or flesh or of sweet milk, but\never the flocks yield store of milk continual. While I was yet roaming\nin those lands, gathering much livelihood, meantime another slew my\nbrother privily, at unawares, by the guile of his accursed wife. Thus,\nlook you, I have no joy of my lordship among these my possessions: and\nye are like to have heard hereof from your fathers, whosoever they be,\nfor I have suffered much and let a house go to ruin that was stablished\nfair, and had in it much choice substance. I would that I had but a\nthird part of those my riches, and dwelt in my halls, and that those\nmen were yet safe, who perished of old in the wide land of Troy, far\nfrom Argos, the pastureland of horses. Howbeit, though I bewail them\nall and sorrow oftentimes as I sit in our halls,\u2014awhile indeed I\nsatisfy my soul with lamentation, and then again I cease; for soon hath\nman enough of chill lamentation\u2014yet for them all I make no such dole,\ndespite my grief, as for one only, who causes me to loathe both sleep\nand meat, when I think upon him. For no one of the Achaeans toiled so\ngreatly as Odysseus toiled and adventured himself: but to him it was to\nbe but labour and trouble, and to me grief ever comfortless for his\nsake, so long he is afar, nor know we aught, whether he be alive or\ndead. Yea methinks they lament him, even that old Laertes and the\nconstant Penelope and Telemachus, whom he left a child new-born in his\nhouse.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and in the heart of Telemachus he stirred a yearning to\nlament his father; and at his father\u2019s name he let a tear fall from his\neyelids to the ground, and held up his purple mantle with both his\nhands before his eyes. And Menelaus marked him and mused in his mind\nand his heart whether he should leave him to speak of his father, or\nfirst question him and prove him in every word.\n\nWhile yet he pondered these things in his mind and in his heart, Helen\ncame forth from her fragrant vaulted chamber, like Artemis of the\ngolden arrows; and with her came Adraste and set for her the\nwell-wrought chair, and Alcippe bare a rug of soft wool, and Phylo bare\na silver basket which Alcandre gave her, the wife of Polybus, who dwelt\nin Thebes of Egypt, where is the chiefest store of wealth in the\nhouses. He gave two silver baths to Menelaus, and tripods twain, ad ten\ntalents of gold. And besides all this, his wife bestowed on Helen\nlovely gifts; a golden distaff did she give, and a silver basket with\nwheels beneath, and the rims thereof were finished with gold. This it\nwas that the handmaid Phylo bare and set beside her, filled with\ndressed yarn, and across it was laid a distaff charged with wool of\nviolet blue. So Helen sat her down in the chair, and beneath was a\nfootstool for the feet. And anon she spake to her lord and questioned\nhim of each thing:\n\n\u201cMenelaus, fosterling of Zeus, know we now who these men avow\nthemselves to be that have come under our roof? Shall I dissemble or\nshall I speak the truth? Nay, I am minded to tell it. None, I say, have\nI ever yet seen so like another, man or woman\u2014wonder comes over me as I\nlook on him\u2014as this man is like the son of great-hearted Odysseus,\nTelemachus, whom he left a new born child in his house, when for the\nsake of me, shameless woman that I was, ye Achaeans came up under Troy\nwith bold war in your hearts.\u201d\n\nAnd Menelaus of the fair hair answered her, saying: \u201cNow I too, lady,\nmark the likeness even as thou tracest it. For such as these were his\nfeet, such his hands, and the glances of his eyes, and his head, and\nhis hair withal. Yea, and even now I was speaking of Odysseus, as I\nremembered him, of all his woeful travail for my sake; when, lo, he let\nfall a bitter tear beneath his brows, and held his purple cloak up\nbefore his eyes.\u201d\n\nAnd Peisistratus, son of Nestor, answered him, saying: \u201cMenelaus, son\nof Atreus, fosterling of Zeus, leader of the host, assuredly this is\nthe son of that very man, even as thou sayest. But he is of a sober\nwit, and thinketh it shame in his heart as on this his first coming to\nmake show of presumptuous words in the presence of thee, in whose voice\nwe twain delight as in the voice of a god. Now Nestor of Gerenia, lord\nof chariots, sent me forth to be his guide on the way: for he desired\nto see thee that thou mightest put into his heart some word or work.\nFor a son hath many griefs in his halls when his father is away, if\nperchance he hath none to stand by him. Even so it is now with\nTelemachus; his father is away, nor hath he others in the township to\ndefend him from distress.\u201d\n\nAnd Menelaus of the fair hair answered him, and said: \u201cLo now, in good\ntruth there has come unto my house the son of a friend indeed, who for\nmy sake endured many adventures. And I thought to welcome him on his\ncoming more nobly than all the other Argives, if but Olympian Zeus, of\nthe far-borne voice, had vouchsafed us a return over the sea in our\nswift ships,\u2014that such a thing should be. And in Argos I would have\ngiven him a city to dwell in, and stablished for him a house, and\nbrought him forth from Ithaca with his substance and his son and all\nhis people, making one city desolate of those that lie around, and are\nin mine own domain. Then ofttimes would we have held converse here, and\nnought would have parted us, the welcoming and the welcomed,[8] ere the\nblack cloud of death overshadowed us. Howsoever, the god himself,\nmethinks, must have been jealous hereof, who from that hapless man\nalone cut off his returning.\u201d\n\n [8] Mr. Evelyn Abbott of Balliol College has suggested to us that\n \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5 and \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03c0\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9 are here correlatives, and denote respectively\n the parts of host and of guest. This is sufficiently borne out by the\n usage of the words elsewhere.\n\n\nSo spake he, and in the hearts of all he stirred the desire of\nlamentation. She wept, even Argive Helen the daughter of Zeus, and\nTelemachus wept, and Menelaus the son of Atreus; nay, nor did the son\nof Nestor keep tearless eyes. For he bethought him in his heart of\nnoble Antilochus, whom the glorious son of the bright Dawn had slain.\nThinking upon him he spake winged words:\n\n\u201cSon of Atreus, the ancient Nestor in his own halls was ever wont to\nsay that thou wert wise beyond man\u2019s wisdom, whensoever we made mention\nof thee and asked one another concerning thee. And now, if it be\npossible, be persuaded by me, who for one have no pleasure in weeping\nat supper time\u2014the new-born day will right soon be upon us.[9] Not\nindeed that I deem it blame at all to weep for any mortal who hath died\nand met his fate. Lo, this is now the only due we pay to miserable men,\nto cut the hair and let the tear fall from the cheek. For I too have a\nbrother dead, nowise the meanest of the Argives, and thou art like to\nhave known him, for as for me I never encountered him, never beheld\nhim. But men say that Antilochus outdid all, being excellent in speed\nof foot and in the fight.\u201d\n\n [9] Cf. B. xv. 50.\n\n\nAnd Menelaus of the fair hair answered him, and said: \u201cMy friend, lo,\nthou hast said all that a wise man might say or do, yea, and an elder\nthan thou;\u2014for from such a sire too thou art sprung, wherefore thou\ndost even speak wisely. Right easily known is that man\u2019s seed, for whom\nCronion weaves the skein of luck at bridal and at birth: even as now\nhath he granted prosperity to Nestor for ever for all his days, that he\nhimself should grow into a smooth old age in his halls, and his sons\nmoreover should be wise and the best of spearsmen. But we will cease\nnow the weeping which was erewhile made, and let us once more bethink\nus of our supper, and let them pour water over our hands. And again in\nthe morning there will be tales for Telemachus and me to tell one to\nthe other, even to the end.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Asphalion poured water over their hands, the ready\nsquire of renowned Menelaus. And they put forth their hands upon the\ngood cheer spread before them.\n\nThen Helen, daughter of Zeus, turned to new thoughts. Presently she\ncast a drug into the wine whereof they drank, a drug to lull all pain\nand anger, and bring forgetfulness of every sorrow. Whoso should drink\na draught thereof, when it is mingled in the bowl, on that day he would\nlet no tear fall down his cheeks, not though his mother and his father\ndied, not though men slew his brother or dear son with the sword before\nhis face, and his own eyes beheld it. Medicines of such virtue and so\nhelpful had the daughter of Zeus, which Polydamna, the wife of Thon,\nhad given her, a woman of Egypt, where earth the grain-giver yields\nherbs in greatest plenty, many that are healing in the cup, and many\nbaneful. There each man is a leech skilled beyond all human kind; yea,\nfor they are of the race of Paeeon. Now after she had cast in the drug\nand bidden pour forth of the wine, she made answer once again, and\nspake unto her lord:\n\n\u201cSon of Atreus, Menelaus, fosterling of Zeus, and lo, ye sons of noble\nmen, forasmuch as now to one and now to another Zeus gives good and\nevil, for to him all things are possible,\u2014now, verily, sit ye down and\nfeast in the halls, and take ye joy in the telling of tales, and I will\ntell you one that fits the time. Now all of them I could not tell or\nnumber, so many as were the adventures of Odysseus of the hardy heart;\nbut, ah, what a deed was this he wrought and dared in his hardiness in\nthe land of the Trojans, where ye Achaeans suffered affliction. He\nsubdued his body with unseemly stripes, and a sorry covering he cast\nabout his shoulders, and in the fashion of a servant he went down into\nthe wide-wayed city of the foemen, and he hid himself in the guise of\nanother, a beggar, though in no wise such an one was he at the ships of\nthe Achaeans. In this semblance he passed into the city of the Trojans,\nand they wist not who he was, and I alone knew him in that guise, and I\nkept questioning him, but in his subtlety he avoided me. But when at\nlast I was about washing him and anointing him with olive oil, and had\nput on him raiment, and sworn a great oath not to reveal Odysseus amid\nthe Trojans, ere he reached the swift ships and the huts, even then he\ntold me all the purpose of the Achaeans. And after slaying many of the\nTrojans with the long sword, he returned to the Argives and brought\nback word again of all. Then the other Trojan women wept aloud, but my\nsoul was glad, for already my heart was turned to go back again even to\nmy home: and now at the last I groaned for the blindness that Aphrodite\ngave me, when she led me thither away from mine own country, forsaking\nmy child and my bridal chamber and my lord, that lacked not aught\nwhether for wisdom or yet for beauty.\u201d\n\nAnd Menelaus of the fair hair answered her, saying: \u201cVerily all this\ntale, lady, thou hast duly told. Ere now have I learned the counsel and\nthe thought of many heroes, and travelled over many a land, but never\nyet have mine eyes beheld any such man of heart as was Odysseus; such\nanother deed as he wrought and dared in his hardiness even in the\nshapen horse, wherein sat all we chiefs of the Argives, bearing to the\nTrojans death and doom. Anon thou camest thither, and sure some god\nmust have bidden thee, who wished to bring glory to the Trojans. Yea\nand godlike Deiphobus went with thee on thy way. Thrice thou didst go\nround about the hollow ambush and handle it, calling aloud on the\nchiefs of the Argives by name, and making thy voice like the voices of\nthe wives of all the Argives. Now I and the son of Tydeus and goodly\nOdysseus sat in the midst and heard thy call; and verily we twain had a\ndesire to start up and come forth or presently to answer from within;\nbut Odysseus stayed and held us there, despite our eagerness. Then all\nthe other sons of the Achaeans held their peace, but Anticlus alone was\nstill minded to answer thee. Howbeit Odysseus firmly closed his mouth\nwith strong hands, and so saved all the Achaeans, and held him until\nsuch time as Pallas Athene led thee back.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, and said: \u201cMenelaus, son of Atreus,\nfosterling of Zeus, leader of the host, all the more grievous it is!\nfor in no way did this courage ward from him pitiful destruction, not\nthough his heart within him had been very iron. But come, bid us to\nbed, that forthwith we may take our joy of rest beneath the spell of\nsleep.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Argive Helen bade her handmaids set out bedsteads\nbeneath the gallery, and fling on them fair purple blankets and spread\ncoverlets above, and thereon lay thick mantles to be a clothing over\nall. So they went from the hall with torch in hand, and spread the\nbeds, and the henchman led forth the guests. Thus they slept there in\nthe vestibule of the house, the hero Telemachus and the splendid son of\nNestor. But the son of Atreus slept, as his custom was, in the inmost\nchamber of the lofty house, and by him lay long-robed Helen, that fair\nlady.\n\nSoon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, Menelaus of the loud\nwar-shout gat him up from his bed and put on his raiment, and cast his\nsharp sword about his shoulder, and beneath his smooth feet bound his\ngoodly sandals, and stept forth from his chamber, in presence like a\ngod, and sat by Telemachus, and spake and hailed him:\n\n\u201cTo what end hath thy need brought thee hither, hero Telemachus, unto\nfair Lacedaemon, over the broad back of the sea? Is it a matter of the\ncommon weal or of thine own? Herein tell me the plain truth.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, and said: \u201cMenelaus, son of Atreus,\nfosterling of Zeus, leader of the host, I have come if perchance thou\nmayest tell me some tidings of my father. My dwelling is being devoured\nand my fat lands are ruined, and of unfriendly men my house is\nfull,\u2014who slaughter continually my thronging flocks, and my kine with\ntrailing feet and shambling gait,\u2014none other than the wooers of my\nmother, despiteful out of measure. So now am I come hither to thy\nknees, if haply thou art willing to tell me of his pitiful death, as\none that saw it perchance with thine own eyes, or heard the story from\nsome other wanderer; for his mother bare him to exceeding sorrow. And\nspeak me no soft words in ruth or pity, but tell me plainly how thou\ndidst get sight of him. Ah, I pray thee, if ever at all my father, good\nOdysseus, made promise to thee of word or work and fulfilled the same\nin the land of the Trojans, where ye Achaeans suffered affliction,\nthese things, I pray thee, now remember and tell me truth.\u201d\n\nThen in heavy displeasure spake to him Menelaus of the fair hair: \u201cOut\nupon them, for truly in the bed of a brave-hearted man were they minded\nto lie, very cravens as they are! Even as when a hind hath couched her\nnewborn fawns unweaned in a strong lion\u2019s lair, and searcheth out the\nmountain knees and grassy hollows, seeking pasture, and afterward the\nlion cometh back to his bed, and sendeth forth unsightly death upon\nthat pair, even so shall Odysseus send forth unsightly death upon the\nwooers. Would to our father Zeus and Athene and Apollo, would that in\nsuch might as when of old in stablished Lesbos he rose up and wrestled\na match with Philomeleides and threw him mightily, and all the Achaeans\nrejoiced; would that in such strength Odysseus might consort with the\nwooers: then should they all have swift fate, and bitter wedlock! But\nfor that whereof thou askest and entreatest me, be sure I will not\nswerve from the truth in aught that I say, nor deceive thee; but of all\nthat the ancient one of the sea, whose speech is sooth, declared to me,\nnot a word will I hide or keep from thee.\n\n\u201cIn the river Aegyptus,[10] though eager I was to press onward home,\nthe gods they stayed me, for that I had not offered them the acceptable\nsacrifice of hecatombs, and the gods ever desired that men should be\nmindful of their commandments. Now there is an island in the wash of\nthe waves over against Aegyptus, and men call it Pharos, within one\nday\u2019s voyage of a hollow ship, when shrill winds blow fair in her wake.\nAnd therein is a good haven, whence men launch the gallant ships into\nthe deep when they have drawn a store of deep black water. There the\ngods held me twenty days, nor did the sea-winds ever show their breath,\nthey that serve to waft ships over the broad back of the sea. And now\nwould all our corn have been spent, and likewise the strength of the\nmen, except some goddess had taken pity on me and saved me, Eidothee,\ndaughter of mighty Proteus, the ancient one of the sea. For most of all\nI moved her heart, when she met me wandering alone apart from my\ncompany, who were ever roaming round the isle, fishing with bent hooks,\nfor hunger was gnawing at their belly. So she stood by, and spake and\nuttered her voice saying:\n\n [10] The only name for the Nile in Homer. Cf. Wilkinson, Ancient\n Egyptians (1878), vol. i., p. 7.\n\n\n\u201c\u2018Art thou so very foolish, stranger, and feeble-witted, or art thou\nwilfully remiss, and hast pleasure in suffering? So long time art thou\nholden in the isle and canst find no issue therefrom, while the heart\nof thy company faileth within them?\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so she spake, and I answered her saying: \u2018I will speak forth,\nwhat goddess soever thou art, and tell thee that in no wise am I holden\nhere by mine own will, but it needs must be that I have sinned against\nthe deathless gods, who keep the wide heaven. Howbeit, do thou tell\nme\u2014for the gods know all things\u2014which of the immortals it is that binds\nme here and hath hindered me from my way, and declare as touching my\nreturning how I may go over the teeming deep.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and straightway the fair goddess made answer: \u2018Yea now,\nsir, I will plainly tell thee all. Hither resorteth that ancient one of\nthe sea, whose speech is sooth, the deathless Egyptian Proteus, who\nknows the depths of every sea, and is the thrall of Poseidon, and who,\nthey say, is my father that begat me. If thou couldst but lay an ambush\nand catch him, he will surely declare to thee the way and the measure\nof thy path, and will tell thee of thy returning, how thou mayest go\nover the teeming deep. Yea, and he will show thee, O fosterling of\nZeus, if thou wilt, what good thing and what evil hath been wrought in\nthy halls, whilst thou has been faring this long and grievous way.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo she spake, but I answered and said unto her: \u2018Devise now thyself\nthe ambush to take this ancient one divine, lest by any chance he see\nme first, or know of my coming, and avoid me. For a god is hard for\nmortal man to quell.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and straightway the fair goddess made answer: \u2018Yea now,\nsir, I will plainly tell thee all. So often as the sun in his course\nstands high in mid heaven, then forth from the brine comes the ancient\none of the sea, whose speech is sooth, before the breath of the West\nWind he comes, and the sea\u2019s dark ripple covers him. And when he is got\nforth, he lies down to sleep in the hollow of the caves. And around him\nthe seals, the brood of the fair daughter of the brine, sleep all in a\nflock, stolen forth from the grey sea water, and bitter is the scent\nthey breathe of the deeps of the salt sea. There will I lead thee at\nthe breaking of the day, and couch you all orderly; so do thou choose\ndiligently three of thy company, the best thou hast in thy decked\nships. And I will tell thee all the magic arts of that old man. First,\nhe will number the seals and go over them; but when he has told their\ntale and beheld them, he will lay him down in the midst, as a shepherd\nmid the sheep of his flock. So soon as ever ye shall see him couched,\neven then mind you of your might and strength, and hold him there,\ndespite his eagerness and striving to be free. And he will make assay,\nand take all manner of shapes of things that creep upon the earth, of\nwater likewise, and of fierce fire burning. But do ye grasp him\nsteadfastly and press him yet the more, and at length when he questions\nthee in his proper shape, as he was when first ye saw him laid to rest,\nthen, hero, hold thy strong hands, and let the ancient one go free, and\nask him which of the gods is hard upon thee, and as touching thy\nreturning, how thou mayest go over the teeming deep.\u2019\n\n\u201cTherewith she dived beneath the heaving sea, but I betook me to the\nships where they stood in the sand, and my heart was darkly troubled as\nI went. But after I had come down to the ship and to the sea, and we\nhad made ready our supper and immortal night had come on, then did we\nlay us to rest upon the sea-beach. So soon as early Dawn shone forth,\nthe rosy fingered, in that hour I walked by the shore of the wide-wayed\nsea, praying instantly to the gods; and I took with me three of my\ncompany, in whom I trusted most for every enterprise.\n\n\u201cMeanwhile, so it was that she had plunged into the broad bosom of the\nsea, and had brought from the deep the skins of four sea-calves, and\nall were newly flayed, for she was minded to lay a snare for her\nfather. She scooped lairs on the sea-sand, and sat awaiting us, and we\ndrew very nigh her, and she made us all lie down in order, and cast a\nskin over each. There would our ambush have been most terrible, for the\ndeadly stench of the sea bred seals distressed us sore: nay, who would\nlay him down by a beast of the sea? But herself she wrought\ndeliverance, and devised a great comfort. She took ambrosia of a very\nsweet savour, and set it beneath each man\u2019s nostril, and did away with\nthe stench of the beast. So all the morning we waited with steadfast\nheart, and the seals came forth in troops from the brine, and then they\ncouched them all orderly by the sea-beach. And at high day the ancient\none came forth from out of the brine, and found his fatted seals, yea\nand he went along their line and told their tale; and first among the\nsea-beasts he reckoned us, and guessed not that there was guile, and\nafterward he too laid him down. Then we rushed upon him with a cry, and\ncast our hands about him, nor did that ancient one forget his cunning.\nNow behold, at the first he turned into a bearded lion, and thereafter\ninto a snake, and a pard, and a huge boar; then he took the shape of\nrunning water, and of a tall and flowering tree. We the while held him\nclose with steadfast heart. But when now that ancient one of the magic\narts was aweary, then at last he questioned me and spake unto me,\nsaying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Which of the gods was it, son of Atreus, that aided thee with his\ncounsel, that thou mightest waylay and take me perforce? What wouldest\nthou thereby?\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so he spake, but I answered him saying; \u2018Old man, thou knowest\nall, wherefore dost thou question me thereof with crooked words? For\nlo, I am holden long time in this isle, neither can I find any issue\ntherefrom, and my heart faileth within me. Howbeit do thou tell me\u2014for\nthe gods know all things\u2014which of the immortals it is that bindeth me\nhere, and hath hindered me from my way; and declare as touching my\nreturning, how I may go over the teeming deep.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so I spake, and he straightway answered me, saying: \u2018Nay, surely\nthou shouldest have done goodly sacrifice to Zeus and the other gods\nere thine embarking, that with most speed thou mightst reach thy\ncountry, sailing over the wine-dark deep. For it is not thy fate to see\nthy friends, and come to thy stablished house and thine own country,\ntill thou hast passed yet again within the waters of Aegyptus, the\nheaven-fed stream, and offered holy hecatombs to the deathless gods who\nkeep the wide heaven. So shall the gods grant thee the path which thou\ndesirest.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake he, but my spirit within me was broken, for that he bade me\nagain to go to Aegyptus over the misty deep, a long and grievous way.\n\n\u201cYet even so I answered him saying: \u2018Old man, all this will I do,\naccording to thy word. But come, declare me this, and tell it all\nplainly. Did all those Achaeans return safe with their ships, all whom\nNestor and I left as we went from Troy, or perished any by a shameful\ndeath aboard his own ship, or in the arms of his friends, after he had\nwound up the clew of war?\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and anon he answered me, saying: \u2018Son of Atreus, why dost\nthou straitly question me hereof? Nay, it is not for thy good to know\nor learn my thought; for I tell thee thou shalt not long be tearless,\nwhen thou hast heard it all aright. For many of these were taken, and\nmany were left; but two only of the leaders of the mail-coated Achaeans\nperished in returning; as for the battle, thou thyself wast there. And\none methinks is yet alive, and is holden on the wide deep. Aias in\ntruth was smitten in the midst of his ships of the long oars. Poseidon\nat first brought him nigh to Gyrae, to the mighty rocks, and delivered\nhim from the sea. And so he would have fled his doom, albeit hated by\nAthene, had he not let a proud word fall in the fatal darkening of his\nheart. He said that in the gods\u2019 despite he had escaped the great gulf\nof the sea; and Poseidon heard his loud boasting, and presently caught\nup his trident into his strong hands, and smote the rock Gyraean and\ncleft it in twain. And the one part abode in his place, but the other\nfell into the sea, the broken piece whereon Aias sat at the first, when\nhis heart was darkened. And the rock bore him down into the vast and\nheaving deep; so there he perished when he had drunk of the salt sea\nwater. But thy brother verily escaped the fates and avoided them in his\nhollow ships, for queen Hera saved him. But now when he was like soon\nto reach the steep mount of Malea, lo, the storm wind snatched him away\nand bore him over the teeming deep, making great moan, to the border of\nthe country whereof old Thyestes dwelt, but now Aegisthus abode there,\nthe son of Thyestes. But when thence too there showed a good prospect\nof safe returning, and the gods changed the wind to a fair gale, and\nthey had reached home, then verily did Agamemnon set foot with joy upon\nhis country\u2019s soil, and as he touched his own land he kissed it, and\nmany were the hot tears he let fall, for he saw his land and was glad.\nAnd it was so that the watchman spied him from his tower, the watchman\nwhom crafty Aegisthus had led and posted there, promising him for a\nreward two talents of gold. Now he kept watch for the space of a year,\nlest Agamemnon should pass by him when he looked not, and mind him of\nhis wild prowess. So he went to the house to bear the tidings to the\nshepherd of the people. And straightway Aegisthus contrived a cunning\ntreason. He chose out twenty of the best men in the township, and set\nan ambush, and on the further side of the hall he commanded to prepare\na feast. Then with chariot and horses he went to bid to the feast\nAgamemnon, shepherd of the people; but caitiff thoughts were in his\nheart. He brought him up to his house, all unwitting of his doom, and\nwhen he had feasted him slew him, as one slayeth an ox at the stall.\nAnd none of the company of Atreides that were of his following were\nleft, nor any of the men of Aegisthus, but they were all killed in the\nhalls.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake he, and my spirit within me was broken, and I wept as I sat\nupon the sand, nor was I minded any more to live and see the light of\nthe sun. But when I had taken my fill of weeping and grovelling on the\nground, then spake the ancient one of the sea, whose speech is sooth:\n\n\u201c\u2018No more, son of Atreus, hold this long weeping without cease, for we\nshall find no help therein. Rather with all haste make essay that so\nthou mayest come to thine own country. For either thou shalt find\nAegisthus yet alive, or it may be Orestes was beforehand with thee and\nslew him; so mayest thou chance upon his funeral feast.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo he spake, and my heart and lordly soul again were comforted for all\nmy sorrow, and I uttered my voice and I spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Their fate I now know; but tell me of the third; who is it that is\nyet living and holden on the wide deep, or perchance is dead? and fain\nwould I hear despite my sorrow.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and straightway he answered, and said: \u2018It is the son of\nLaertes, whose dwelling is in Ithaca; and I saw him in an island\nshedding big tears in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him\nthere perforce; so he may not come to his own country, for he has by\nhim no ships with oars, and no companions to send him on his way over\nthe broad back of the sea. But thou, Menelaus, son of Zeus, art not\nordained to die and meet thy fate in Argos, the pasture-land of horses,\nbut the deathless gods will convey thee to the Elysian plain and the\nworld\u2019s end, where is Rhadamanthus of the fair hair, where life is\neasiest for men. No snow is there, nor yet great storm, nor any rain;\nbut always ocean sendeth forth the breeze of the shrill West to blow\ncool on men; yea, for thou hast Helen to wife, and thereby they deem\nthee to be son of Zeus.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake he, and plunged into the heaving sea; but I betook me to the\nships with my godlike company, and my heart was darkly troubled as I\nwent. Now after I had come down to the ship and to the sea, and had\nmade ready our supper, and immortal night had come on, then did we lay\nus to rest upon the sea-beach. So soon as early Dawn shone forth, the\nrosy-fingered, first of all we drew down our ships to the fair salt sea\nand placed the masts and the sails in the gallant ships, and the crew\ntoo climbed on board, and sat upon the benches and smote the grey sea\nwater with their oars. Then back I went to the waters of Aegyptus, the\nheaven-fed stream, and there I moored the ships and offered the\nacceptable sacrifice of hecatombs. So when I had appeased the anger of\nthe everlasting gods, I piled a barrow to Agamemnon, that his fame\nmight never be quenched. So having fulfilled all, I set out for home,\nand the deathless gods gave me a fair wind, and brought me swiftly to\nmine own dear country. But lo, now tarry in my halls till it shall be\nthe eleventh day hence or the twelfth. Then will I send thee with all\nhonour on thy way, and give thee splendid gifts, three horses and a\npolished car; and moreover I will give thee a goodly chalice, that thou\nmayest pour forth before the deathless gods, and be mindful of me all\nthe days of thy life.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cSon of Atreus, nay, hold me\nnot long time here. Yea even for a year would I be content to sit by\nthee, and no desire for home or parents would come upon me; for I take\nwondrous pleasure in thy tales and talk. But already my company\nwearieth in fair Pylos, and yet thou art keeping me long time here. And\nwhatsoever gift thou wouldest give me, let it be a thing to treasure;\nbut horses I will take none to Ithaca, but leave them here to grace\nthine own house, for thou art lord of a wide plain wherein is lotus\ngreat plenty, and therein is spear-reed and wheat and rye, and white\nand spreading barley. In Ithaca there are no wide courses, nor meadow\nland at all. It is a pasture-land of goats, and more pleasant in my\nsight than one that pastureth horses; for of the isles that lie and\nlean upon the sea, none are fit for the driving of horses, or rich in\nmeadow land, and least of all is Ithaca.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Menelaus, of the loud war cry, smiled, and caressed\nhim with his hand, and spake and hailed him:\n\n\u201cThou art of gentle blood, dear child, so gentle the words thou\nspeakest. Therefore I will make exchange of the presents, as I may. Of\nthe gifts, such as are treasures stored in my house, I will give thee\nthe goodliest and greatest of price. I will give thee a mixing bowl\nbeautifully wrought; it is all of silver, and the lips thereof are\nfinished with gold, the work of Hephaestus; and the hero Phaedimus, the\nking of the Sidonians, gave it me, when his house sheltered me on my\ncoming thither, and to thee now would I give it.\u201d\n\nEven so they spake one to another, while the guests came to the palace\nof the divine king. They drave their sheep, and brought wine that\nmaketh glad the heart of man: and their wives with fair tire sent them\nwheaten bread. Thus were these men preparing the feast in the halls.\n\nBut the wooers meantime were before the palace of Odysseus, taking\ntheir pleasure in casting of weights and spears, on a levelled place,\nas heretofore, in their insolence. And Antinous and god-like Eurymachus\nwere seated there, the chief men of the wooers, who were far the most\nexcellent of all. And No\u00ebmon, son of Phromius, drew nigh to them and\nspake unto Antinous and questioned him, saying:\n\n\u201cAntinous, know we at all, or know we not, when Telemachus will return\nfrom sandy Pylos? He hath departed with a ship of mine, and I have need\nthereof, to cross over into spacious Elis, where I have twelve brood\nmares with hardy mules unbroken at the teat; I would drive off one of\nthese and break him in.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and they were amazed, for they deemed not that Telemachus\nhad gone to Neleian Pylos, but that he was at home somewhere in the\nfields, whether among the flocks, or with the swineherd.\n\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spake to him in turn: \u201cTell me the\nplain truth; when did he go, and what noble youths went with him? Were\nthey chosen men of Ithaca or hirelings and thralls of his own? He was\nin case to bring even that about. And tell me this in good sooth, that\nI may know for a surety: did he take thy black ship from thee perforce\nagainst thy will? or didst thou give it him of free will at his\nentreaty?\n\nThen No\u00ebmon, son of Phromius, answered him saying: \u201cI gave it him\nmyself of free will. What can any man do, when such an one, so bestead\nwith care, begs a favour? it were hard to deny the gift. The youths who\nnext to us are noblest in the land, even these have gone with him; and\nI marked their leader on board ship, Mentor, or a god who in all things\nresembled Mentor. But one matter I marvel at: I saw the goodly Mentor\nhere yesterday toward dawn, though already he had embarked for Pylos.\u201d\n\nHe spake and withal departed to his father\u2019s house. And the proud\nspirits of these twain were angered, and they made the wooers sit down\ntogether and cease from their games. And among them spake Antinous, son\nof Eupeithes, in displeasure; and his black heart was wholly filled\nwith rage, and his eyes were like flaming fire:\n\n\u201cOut on him, a proud deed hath Telemachus accomplished with a high\nhand, even this journey, and we thought that he would never bring it to\npass! This lad hath clean gone without more ado, in spite of us all;\nhis ship he hath let haul to the sea, and chosen the noblest in the\ntownship. He will begin to be our bane even more than heretofore; but\nmay Zeus destroy his might, not ours, ere he reach the measure of\nmanhood! But come, give me a swift ship and twenty men, that I may lie\nin watch and wait even for him on his way home, in the strait between\nIthaca and rugged Samos, that so he may have a woeful end of his\ncruising in quest of his father.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and they all assented thereto, and bade him to the work.\nAnd thereupon they arose and went to the house of Odysseus.\n\nNow it was no long time before Penelope heard of the counsel that the\nwooers had devised in the deep of their heart. For the henchman Medon\ntold her thereof, who stood without the court and heard their purposes,\nwhile they were weaving their plot within. So he went on his way\nthrough the halls to bring the news to Penelope; and as he stept down\nover the threshold, Penelope spake unto him:\n\n\u201cHenchman, wherefore have the noble wooers sent thee forth? Was it to\ntell the handmaids of divine Odysseus to cease from their work, and\nprepare a banquet for them? Nay, after thus much wooing, never again\nmay they come together, but here this day sup for their last and latest\ntime; all ye who assemble so often, and waste much livelihood, the\nwealth of wise Telemachus! Long ago when ye were children, ye marked\nnot your fathers\u2019 telling, what manner of man was Odysseus among them,\none that wrought no iniquity toward any man, nor spake aught\nunrighteous in the township, as is the wont of divine kings. One man a\nking is like to hate, another he might chance to love. But never did he\ndo aught at all presumptuously to any man. Nay, it is plain what spirit\nye are of, and your unseemly deeds are manifest to all, nor is there\nany gratitude left for kindness done.\u201d\n\nThen Medon, wise of heart, answered her: \u201cWould, oh queen, that this\nwere the crowning evil! But the wooers devise another far greater and\nmore grievous, which I pray the son of Cronos may never fulfil! They\nare set on slaying Telemachus with the edge of the sword on his\nhomeward way; for he is gone to fair Pylos and goodly Lacedaemon, to\nseek tidings of his father.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, but her knees were loosened where she stood, and her heart\nmelted within her, and long time was she speechless, and lo, her eyes\nwere filled with tears and the voice of her utterance was stayed. And\nat the last she answered him and said:\n\n\u201cHenchman, wherefore I pray thee is my son departed? There is no need\nthat he should go abroad on swift ships, that serve men for horses on\nthe sea, and that cross the great wet waste. Is it that even his own\nname may no more be left upon earth?\u201d\n\nThen Medon, wise of heart, answered her: \u201cI know not whether some god\nset him on or whether his own spirit stirred him to go to Pylos to seek\ntidings of his father\u2019s return, or to hear what end he met.\u201d\n\nHe spake, and departed through the house of Odysseus, and on her fell a\ncloud of consuming grief; so that she might no more endure to seat her\non a chair, whereof there were many in the house, but there she\ncrouched on the threshold of her well-builded chamber, wailing\npiteously, and her handmaids round her made low moan, as many as were\nin the house with her, young and old. And Penelope spake among them\npouring forth her lamentation:\n\n\u201cHear me, my friends, for the Olympian sire hath given me pain\nexceedingly beyond all women who were born and bred in my day. For\nerewhile I lost my noble lord of the lion heart, adorned with all\nperfection among the Danaans, my good lord, whose fame is noised abroad\nfrom Hellas to mid Argos. And now again the storm-winds have snatched\naway my well-beloved son without tidings from our halls, nor heard I of\nhis departure. Oh, women, hard of heart, that even ye did not each one\nlet the thought come into your minds, to rouse me from my couch when he\nwent to the black hollow ship, though ye knew full well thereof! For\nhad I heard that he was purposing this journey, verily he should have\nstayed here still, though eager to be gone, or have left me dead in the\nhalls. Howbeit let some one make haste to call the ancient Dolius, my\nthrall, whom my father gave me ere yet I had come hither, who keepeth\nmy garden of trees. So shall he go straightway and sit by Laertes, and\ntell him all, if perchance Laertes may weave some counsel in his heart,\nand go forth and make his plaint to the people, who are purposed to\ndestroy his seed, and the seed of god-like Odysseus.\u201d\n\nThen the good nurse Eurycleia answered her: \u201cDear lady, aye, slay me if\nthou wilt with the pitiless sword or let me yet live on in the\nhouse,\u2014yet will I not hide my saying from thee. I knew all this, and\ngave him whatsoever he commanded, bread and sweet wine. And he took a\ngreat oath of me not to tell thee till at least the twelfth day should\ncome, or thou thyself shouldst miss him and hear of his departure, that\nthou mightest not mar thy fair flesh with thy tears. But now, wash thee\nin water, and take to thee clean raiment and ascend to thy upper\nchamber with the women thy handmaids, and pray to Athene, daughter of\nZeus, lord of the aegis. For so may she save him even from death. And\nheap not troubles on an old man\u2019s trouble; for the seed of the son of\nArceisius, is not, methinks, utterly hated by the blessed gods, but\nsomeone will haply yet remain to possess these lofty halls, and the fat\nfields far away.\u201d\n\nSo spake she, and lulled her queen\u2019s lamentation, and made her eyes to\ncease from weeping. So she washed her in water, and took to her clean\nraiment, and ascended to the upper chamber with the women her\nhandmaids, and placed the meal for sprinkling in a basket, and prayed\nunto Athene:\n\n\u201cHear me, child of Zeus, lord of the aegis, unwearied maiden! If ever\nwise Odysseus in his halls burnt for thee fat slices of the thighs of\nheifer or of sheep, these things, I pray thee, now remember, and save\nmy dear son, and ward from him the wooers in the naughtiness of their\npride.\u201d\n\nTherewith she raised a cry, and the goddess heard her prayer. But the\nwooers clamoured through the shadowy halls, and thus would some proud\nyouth say:\n\n\u201cVerily this queen of many wooers prepareth our marriage, nor knoweth\nat all how that for her son death hath been ordained.\u201d\n\nThus would certain of them speak, but they knew not how these things\nwere ordained. And Antinous made harangue and spake among them:\n\n\u201cGood sirs, my friends, shun all disdainful words alike, lest someone\nhear and tell it even in the house. But come let us arise, and in\nsilence accomplish that whereof we spake, for the counsel pleased us\nevery one.\u201d\n\nTherewith he chose twenty men that were the best, and they departed to\nthe swift ship and the sea-banks. So first of all they drew the ship\ndown to the deep water, and placed the mast and sails in the black\nship, and fixed the oars in leathern loops all orderly, and spread\nforth the white sails. And squires, haughty of heart, bare for them\ntheir arms. And they moored her high out in the shore water, and\nthemselves disembarked. There they supped and waited for evening to\ncome on.\n\nBut the wise Penelope lay there in her upper chamber, fasting and\ntasting neither meat nor drink, musing whether her noble son should\nescape death, or even fall before the proud wooers. And as a lion\nbroods all in fear among the press of men, when they draw the crafty\nring around him, so deeply was she musing when deep sleep came over\nher. And she sank back in sleep and all her joints were loosened.\n\nNow the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, turned to other thoughts. She made a\nphantom, and fashioned it after the likeness of a woman, Iphthime,\ndaughter of great-hearted Icarius, whom Eumelus wedded, whose dwelling\nwas in Pherae. And she sent it to the house of divine Odysseus to bid\nPenelope, amid her sorrow and lamenting, to cease from her weeping and\ntearful lamentation. So the phantom passed into the chamber by the\nthong of the bolt, and stood above her head and spake unto her, saying:\n\n\u201cSleepest thou, Penelope, stricken at heart? Nay, even the gods who\nlive at ease suffer thee not to wail or be afflicted, seeing that thy\nson is yet to return; for no sinner is he in the eyes of the gods.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope made her answer as she slumbered very softly at the\ngates of dreams:\n\n\u201cWherefore, sister, hast thou come hither, that before wert not wont to\ncome, for thou hast thine habitation very far away? Biddest thou me\nindeed to cease from the sorrows and pains, so many that disquiet my\nheart and soul? Erewhile I lost my noble lord of the lion heart,\nadorned with all perfection among the Danaans, my true lord, whose fame\nis noised abroad from Hellas to mid Argos. And now, again, my\nwell-beloved son is departed on his hollow ship, poor child, not\nskilled in toils or in the gatherings of men. For him I sorrow yet more\nthan for my lord, and I tremble and fear for him lest aught befal him,\nwhether, it may be, amid that folk where he is gone, or in the deep.\nFor many foemen devise evil against him, and go about to kill him, or\never he come to his own country.\u201d\n\nAnd the dim phantom answered her, and said: \u201cTake courage, and be not\nso sorely afraid. For lo, such a friend goes to guide him, as all men\npray to stand by them, for that she hath the power, even Pallas Athene.\nAnd she pitieth thee in thy sorrow, and now hath sent me forth to speak\nthese words to thee.\u201d\n\nAnd wise Penelope answered her, saying: \u201cIf thou art indeed a god, and\nhast heard the word of a god, come, I pray thee, and tell me tidings\nconcerning that ill-fated man, whether perchance he is yet alive and\nsees the light of the sun, or hath already died, and is a dweller in\nthe house of Hades.\u201d\n\nAnd the dim phantom answered her and said: \u201cConcerning him I will not\ntell thee all the tale, whether he be alive or dead; it is ill to speak\nwords light as wind.\u201d\n\nTherewith the phantom slipped away by the bolt of the door and passed\ninto the breath of the wind. And the daughter of Icarius started up\nfrom sleep; and her heart was cheered, so clear was the vision that\nsped toward her in the dead of the night.\n\nMeanwhile the wooers had taken ship and were sailing over the wet ways,\npondering in their hearts sheer death for Telemachus. Now there is a\nrocky isle in the mid sea, midway between Ithaca and rugged Samos,\nAsteris, a little isle; and there is a harbour therein with a double\nentrance, where ships may ride. There the Achaeans abode lying in wait\nfor Telemachus.\n\n\n\nBOOK V.\n\n\nThe Gods in council command Calypso by Hermes to send away Odysseus on\na raft of trees; and Poseidon, returning from Ethiopia and seeing him\non the coast of Phaeacia, scattered his raft; and how by the help of\nIno he was thrown ashore, and slept on a heap of dry leaves till the\nnext day.\n\n\nNow the Dawn arose from her couch, from the side of the lordly\nTithonus, to bear light to the immortals and to mortal men. And lo, the\ngods were gathering to session, and among them Zeus, that thunders on\nhigh, whose might is above all. And Athene told them the tale of the\nmany woes of Odysseus, recalling them to mind; for near her heart was\nhe that then abode in the dwelling of the nymph:\n\n\u201cFather Zeus, and all ye other blessed gods that live for ever,\nhenceforth let not any sceptred king be kind and gentle with all his\nheart, nor minded to do righteously, but let him alway be a hard man\nand work unrighteousness, for behold, there is none that remembereth\ndivine Odysseus of the people whose lord he was, and was gentle as a\nfather. Howbeit, as for him he lieth in an island suffering strong\npains, in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holdeth him perforce; so\nhe may not reach his own country, for he hath no ships by him with\noars, and no companions to send him on his way over the broad back of\nthe sea. And now, again, they are set on slaying his beloved son on his\nhomeward way, for he is gone to fair Pylos and to goodly Lacedaemon, to\nseek tidings of his father.\u201d\n\nAnd Zeus, gatherer of the clouds, answered and spake unto her: \u201cMy\nchild, what word hath escaped the door of thy lips? Nay, didst thou not\nthyself plan this device, that Odysseus may assuredly take vengeance on\nthose men at his coming? As for Telemachus, do thou guide him by thine\nart, as well as thou mayest, that so he may come to his own country all\nunharmed, and the wooers may return in their ship with their labour all\nin vain.\u201d\n\nTherewith he spake to Hermes, his dear son: \u201cHermes, forasmuch as even\nin all else thou art our herald, tell unto the nymph of the braided\ntresses my unerring counsel, even the return of the patient Odysseus,\nhow he is to come to his home, with no furtherance of gods or of mortal\nmen. Nay, he shall sail on a well-bound raft, in sore distress, and on\nthe twentieth day arrive at fertile Scheria, even at the land of the\nPhaeacians, who are near of kin to the gods. And they shall give him\nall worship heartily as to a god, and send him on his way in a ship to\nhis own dear country, with gifts of bronze and gold, and raiment in\nplenty, much store, such as never would Odysseus have won for himself\nout of Troy, yea, though he had returned unhurt with the share of the\nspoil that fell to him. On such wise is he fated to see his friends,\nand come to his high-roofed home and his own country.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, nor heedless was the messenger, the slayer of Argos.\nStraightway he bound beneath his feet his lovely golden sandals, that\nwax not old, that bare him alike over the wet sea and over the\nlimitless land, swift as the breath of the wind. And he took the wand\nwherewith he lulls the eyes of whomso he will, while others again he\neven wakes from out of sleep. With this rod in his hand flew the strong\nslayer of Argos. Above Pieria he passed and leapt from the upper air\ninto the deep. Then he sped along the wave like the cormorant, that\nchaseth the fishes through the perilous gulfs of the unharvested sea,\nand wetteth his thick plumage in the brine. Such like did Hermes ride\nupon the press of the waves. But when he had now reached that far-off\nisle, he went forth from the sea of violet blue to get him up into the\nland, till he came to a great cave, wherein dwelt the nymph of the\nbraided tresses: and he found her within. And on the hearth there was a\ngreat fire burning, and from afar through the isle was smelt the\nfragrance of cleft cedar blazing, and of sandal wood. And the nymph\nwithin was singing with a sweet voice as she fared to and fro before\nthe loom, and wove with a shuttle of gold. And round about the cave\nthere was a wood blossoming, alder and poplar and sweet-smelling\ncypress. And therein roosted birds long of wing, owls and falcons and\nchattering sea-crows, which have their business in the waters. And lo,\nthere about the hollow cave trailed a gadding garden vine, all rich\nwith clusters. And fountains four set orderly were running with clear\nwater, hard by one another, turned each to his own course. And all\naround soft meadows bloomed of violets and parsley, yea, even a\ndeathless god who came thither might wonder at the sight and be glad at\nheart. There the messenger, the slayer of Argos, stood and wondered.\nNow when he had gazed at all with wonder, anon he went into the wide\ncave; nor did Calypso, that fair goddess, fail to know him, when she\nsaw him face to face; for the gods use not to be strange one to\nanother, the immortals, not though one have his habitation far away.\nBut he found not Odysseus, the greathearted, within the cave, who sat\nweeping on the shore even as aforetime, straining his soul with tears\nand groans and griefs, and as he wept he looked wistfully over the\nunharvested deep. And Calypso, that fair goddess, questioned Hermes,\nwhen she had made him sit on a bright shining seat:\n\n\u201cWherefore, I pray thee, Hermes, of the golden wand, hast thou come\nhither, worshipful and welcome, whereas as of old thou wert not wont to\nvisit me? Tell me all thy thought; my heart is set on fulfilling it, if\nfulfil it I may, and if it hath been fulfilled in the counsel of fate.\nBut now follow me further, that I may set before thee the entertainment\nof strangers.\u201d\n\nTherewith the goddess spread a table with ambrosia and set it by him,\nand mixed the ruddy nectar. So the messenger, the slayer of Argos, did\neat and drink. Now after he had supped and comforted his soul with\nfood, at the last he answered, and spake to her on this wise:\n\n\u201cThou makest question of me on my coming, a goddess of a god, and I\nwill tell thee this my saying truly, at thy command. \u2019Twas Zeus that\nbade me come hither, by no will of mine; nay, who of his free will\nwould speed over such a wondrous space of brine, whereby is no city of\nmortals that do sacrifice to the gods, and offer choice hecatombs? But\nsurely it is in no wise possible for another god to go beyond or to\nmake void the purpose of Zeus, lord of the aegis. He saith that thou\nhast with thee a man most wretched beyond his fellows, beyond those men\nthat round the burg of Priam for nine years fought, and in the tenth\nyear sacked the city and departed homeward. Yet on the way they sinned\nagainst Athene, and she raised upon them an evil blast and long waves\nof the sea. Then all the rest of his good company was lost, but it came\nto pass that the wind bare and the wave brought him hither. And now\nZeus biddeth thee send him hence with what speed thou mayest, for it is\nnot ordained that he die away from his friends, but rather it is his\nfate to look on them even yet, and to come to his high-roofed home and\nhis own country.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Calypso, that fair goddess, shuddered and uttered her\nvoice, and spake unto him winged words: \u201cHard are ye gods and jealous\nexceeding, who ever grudge goddesses openly to mate with men, if any\nmake a mortal her dear bed-fellow. Even so when rosy-fingered Dawn took\nOrion for her lover, ye gods that live at ease were jealous thereof,\ntill chaste Artemis, of the golden throne, slew him in Ortygia with the\nvisitation of her gentle shafts. So too when fair-tressed Demeter\nyielded to her love, and lay with Iasion in the thrice-ploughed\nfallow-field, Zeus was not long without tidings thereof, and cast at\nhim with his white bolt and slew him. So again ye gods now grudge that\na mortal man should dwell with me. Him I saved as he went all alone\nbestriding the keel of a bark, for that Zeus had crushed[11] and cleft\nhis swift ship with a white bolt in the midst of the wine-dark deep.\nThere all the rest of his good company was lost, but it came to pass\nthat the wind bare and the wave brought him hither. And him have I\nloved and cherished, and I said that I would make him to know not death\nand age for ever. Yet forasmuch as it is no wise possible for another\ngod to go beyond, or make void the purpose of Zeus, lord of the aegis,\nlet him away over the unharvested seas, if the summons and the bidding\nbe of Zeus. But I will give him no despatch, not I, for I have no ships\nby me with oars, nor company to bear him on his way over the broad back\nof the sea. Yet will I be forward to put this in his mind, and will\nhide nought, that all unharmed he may come to his own country.\u201d\n\n [11] It seems very doubtful whether \u1f14\u03bb\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 can bear this meaning. The\n reading \u1f10\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2, \u201csmote,\u201d preserved by the Schol. is highly probable.\n\n\nThen the messenger, the slayer of Argos, answered her: \u201cYea, speed him\nnow upon his path and have regard unto the wrath of Zeus, lest haply he\nbe angered and bear hard on thee hereafter.\u201d\n\nTherewith the great slayer of Argos departed, but the lady nymph went\non her way to the great-hearted Odysseus, when she had heard the\nmessage of Zeus. And there she found him sitting on the shore, and his\neyes were never dry of tears, and his sweet life was ebbing away as he\nmourned for his return; for the nymph no more found favour in his\nsight. Howsoever by night he would sleep by her, as needs he must, in\nthe hollow caves, unwilling lover by a willing lady. And in the\nday-time he would sit on the rocks and on the beach, straining his soul\nwith tears, and groans, and griefs, and through his tears he would look\nwistfully over the unharvested deep. So standing near him that fair\ngoddess spake to him:\n\n\u201cHapless man, sorrow no more I pray thee in this isle, nor let thy good\nlife waste away, for even now will I send thee hence with all my heart.\nNay, arise and cut long beams, and fashion a wide raft with the axe,\nand lay deckings high thereupon, that it may bear thee over the misty\ndeep. And I will place therein bread and water, and red wine to thy\nheart\u2019s desire, to keep hunger far away. And I will put raiment upon\nthee, and send a fair gale in thy wake, that so thou mayest come all\nunharmed to thine own country, if indeed it be the good pleasure of the\ngods who hold wide heaven, who are stronger than I am both to will and\nto do.\u201d\n\nSo she spake, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus shuddered, and uttering\nhis voice spake to her winged words: \u201cHerein, goddess, thou hast\nplainly some other thought, and in no wise my furtherance, for that\nthou biddest me to cross in a raft the great gulf of the sea so dread\nand difficult, which not even the swift gallant ships pass over\nrejoicing in the breeze of Zeus. Nor would I go aboard a raft to\ndispleasure thee, unless thou wilt deign, O goddess, to swear a great\noath not to plan any hidden guile to mine own hurt.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Calypso, the fair goddess, smiled and caressed him\nwith her hand, and spake and hailed him:\n\n\u201cKnavish thou art, and no weakling[12] in wit, thou that hast conceived\nand spoken such a word. Let earth be now witness hereto, and the wide\nheaven above, and that falling water of the Styx, the greatest oath and\nthe most terrible to the blessed gods, that I will not plan any hidden\nguile to thine own hurt. Nay, but my thoughts are such, and such will\nbe my counsel, as I would devise for myself, if ever so sore a need\ncame over me. For I too have a righteous mind, and my heart within me\nis not of iron, but pitiful even as thine.\u201d\n\n [12] \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c6\u03ce\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, from root \u03c6\u03c5, \u201cill-grown,\u201d i. e. a weakling, in the\n literal sense as B. xi. 249, xiv. 212, or metaphorical, as here and\n viii. 177.\n\n\nTherewith the fair goddess led the way quickly, and he followed hard in\nthe steps of the goddess. And they reached the hollow cave, the goddess\nand the man; so he sat him down upon the chair whence Hermes had\narisen, and the nymph placed by him all manner of food to eat and\ndrink, such as is meat for men. As for her she sat over against divine\nOdysseus, and the handmaids placed by her ambrosia and nectar. So they\nput forth their hands upon the good cheer set before them. But after\nthey had taken their fill of meat and drink, Calypso, the fair goddess,\nspake first and said:\n\n\u201cSon of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, so it\nis indeed thy wish to get thee home to thine own dear country even in\nthis hour? Good fortune go with thee even so! Yet didst thou know in\nthine heart what a measure of suffering thou art ordained to fulfil, or\never thou reach thine own country, here, even here, thou wouldst abide\nwith me and keep this house, and wouldst never taste of death, though\nthou longest to see thy wife, for whom thou hast ever a desire day by\nday. Not in sooth that I avow me to be less noble than she in form or\nfashion, for it is in no wise meet that mortal women should match them\nwith immortals, in shape and comeliness.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered, and spake unto her: \u201cBe not\nwroth with me hereat, goddess and queen. Myself I know it well, how\nwise Penelope is meaner to look upon than thou, in comeliness and\nstature. But she is mortal and thou knowest not age nor death. Yet even\nso, I wish and long day by day to fare homeward and see the day of my\nreturning. Yea, and if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep,\neven so I will endure, with a heart within me patient of affliction.\nFor already have I suffered full much, and much have I toiled in perils\nof waves and war; let this be added to the tale of those.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and the sun sank and darkness came on. Then they twain\nwent into the chamber of the hollow rock, and had their delight of\nlove, abiding each by other.\n\nSo soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, anon Odysseus put\non him a mantle and doublet, and the nymph clad her in a great shining\nrobe, light of woof and gracious, and about her waist she cast a fair\ngolden girdle, and a veil withal upon her head. Then she considered of\nthe sending of Odysseus, the great-hearted. She gave him a great axe,\nfitted to his grasp, an axe of bronze double-edged, and with a goodly\nhandle of olive wood fastened well. Next she gave him a polished adze,\nand she led the way to the border of the isle where tall trees grew,\nalder and poplar, and pine that reacheth unto heaven, seasoned long\nsince and sere, that might lightly float for him. Now after she had\nshown him where the tall trees grew, Calypso, the fair goddess,\ndeparted homeward. And he set to cutting timber, and his work went\nbusily. Twenty trees in all he felled, and then trimmed them with the\naxe of bronze, and deftly smoothed them, and over them made straight\nthe line. Meanwhile Calypso, the fair goddess, brought him augers, so\nhe bored each piece and jointed them together, and then made all fast\nwith trenails and dowels. Wide as is the floor of a broad ship of\nburden, which some man well skilled in carpentry may trace him out, of\nsuch beam did Odysseus fashion his broad raft. And thereat he wrought,\nand set up the deckings, fitting them to the close-set uprights, and\nfinished them off with long gunwales, and there he set a mast, and a\nyard-arm fitted thereto, and moreover he made him a rudder to guide the\ncraft. And he fenced it with wattled osier withies from stem to stern,\nto be a bulwark against the wave, and piled up wood to back them.\nMeanwhile Calypso, the fair goddess, brought him web of cloth to make\nhim sails; and these too he fashioned very skilfully. And he made fast\ntherein braces and halyards and sheets, and at last he pushed the raft\nwith levers down to the fair salt sea.\n\nIt was the fourth day when he had accomplished all. And, lo, on the\nfifth, the fair Calypso sent him on his way from the island, when she\nhad bathed him and clad him in fragrant attire. Moreover, the goddess\nplaced on board the ship two skins, one of dark wine, and another, a\ngreat one, of water, and corn too in a wallet, and she set therein a\nstore of dainties to his heart\u2019s desire, and sent forth a warm and\ngentle wind to blow. And goodly Odysseus rejoiced as he set his sails\nto the breeze. So he sate and cunningly guided the craft with the helm,\nnor did sleep fall upon his eyelids, as he viewed the Pleiads and\nBootes, that setteth late, and the Bear, which they likewise call the\nWain, which turneth ever in one place, and keepeth watch upon Orion,\nand alone hath no part in the baths of Ocean. This star, Calypso, the\nfair goddess, bade him to keep ever on the left as he traversed the\ndeep. Ten days and seven he sailed traversing the deep, and on the\neighteenth day appeared the shadowy hills of the land of the\nPhaeacians, at the point where it lay nearest to him; and it showed\nlike a shield in the misty deep.\n\nNow the lord, the shaker of the earth, on his way from the Ethiopians\nespied him afar off from the mountains of the Solymi: even thence he\nsaw Odysseus as he sailed over the deep; and he was mightily angered in\nspirit, and shaking his head he communed with his own heart. \u201cLo now,\nit must be that the gods at the last have changed their purpose\nconcerning Odysseus, while I was away among the Ethiopians. And now he\nis nigh to the Phaeacian land, where it is ordained that he escape the\ngreat issues of the woe which hath come upon him. But, methinks, that\neven yet I will drive him far enough in the path of suffering.\u201d\n\nWith that he gathered the clouds and troubled the waters of the deep,\ngrasping his trident in his hands; and he roused all storms of all\nmanner of winds, and shrouded in clouds the land and sea: and down sped\nnight from heaven. The East Wind and the South Wind clashed, and the\nstormy West, and the North, that is born in the bright air, rolling\nonward a great wave. Then were the knees of Odysseus loosened and his\nheart melted, and heavily he spake to his own great spirit:\n\n\u201cOh, wretched man that I am! what is to befal me at the last? I fear\nthat indeed the goddess spake all things truly, who said that I should\nfill up the measure of sorrow on the deep, or ever I came to mine own\ncountry; and lo, all these things have an end. In such wise doth Zeus\ncrown the wide heaven with clouds, and hath troubled the deep, and the\nblasts rush on of all the winds; yea, now is utter doom assured me.\nThrice blessed those Danaans, yea, four times blessed, who perished on\na time in wide Troy-land, doing a pleasure to the sons of Atreus! Would\nto God that I too had died, and met my fate on that day when the press\nof Trojans cast their bronze-shod spears upon me, fighting for the body\nof the son of Peleus! So should I have gotten my dues of burial, and\nthe Achaeans would have spread my fame; but now it is my fate to be\novertaken by a pitiful death.\u201d\n\nEven as he spake, the great wave smote down upon him, driving on in\nterrible wise, that the raft reeled again. And far therefrom he fell,\nand lost the helm from his hand; and the fierce blast of the jostling\nwinds came and brake his mast in the midst, and sail and yard-arm fell\nafar into the deep. Long time the water kept him under, nor could he\nspeedily rise from beneath the rush of the mighty wave: for the\ngarments hung heavy which fair Calypso gave him. But late and at length\nhe came up, and spat forth from his mouth the bitter salt water, which\nran down in streams from his head. Yet even so forgat he not his raft,\nfor all his wretched plight, but made a spring after it in the waves,\nand clutched it to him, and sat in the midst thereof, avoiding the\nissues of death; and the great wave swept it hither and thither along\nthe stream. And as the North Wind in the harvest tide sweeps the\nthistle-down along the plain, and close the tufts cling each to other,\neven so the winds bare the raft hither and thither along the main. Now\nthe South would toss it to the North to carry, and now again the East\nwould yield it to the West to chase.\n\nBut the daughter of Cadmus marked him, Ino of the fair ankles,\nLeucothea, who in time past was a maiden of mortal speech, but now in\nthe depths of the salt sea she had gotten her share of worship from the\ngods. She took pity on Odysseus in his wandering and travail, and she\nrose, like a sea-gull on the wing, from the depth of the mere, and sat\nupon the well-bound raft and spake saying:\n\n\u201cHapless one, wherefore was Poseidon, shaker of the earth, so wondrous\nwroth with thee, seeing that he soweth for thee the seeds of many\nevils? Yet shall he not make a full end of thee, for all his desire.\nBut do even as I tell thee, and methinks thou art not witless. Cast off\nthese garments, and leave the raft to drift before the winds, but do\nthou swim with thine hands and strive to win a footing on the coast[13]\nof the Phaeacians, where it is decreed that thou escape. Here, take\nthis veil imperishable and wind it about thy breast; so is there no\nfear that thou suffer aught or perish. But when thou hast laid hold of\nthe mainland with thy hands, loose it from off thee and cast it into\nthe wine-dark deep far from the land, and thyself turn away.\u201d\n\n [13] Lit. Strive after an arrival on the land, etc. \u03bd\u03cc\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 originally\n meant _going, journeying_, and had no idea of _return_. The earlier\n use survives here, and in Soph. Philoct. 43, Eur. Iph. Aul. 1261.\n Similarly, perhaps, \u03bd\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd in Odyssey iv. 619, xv. 119, and \u03bd\u03ad\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\n frequently.\n\n\nWith that the goddess gave the veil, and for her part dived back into\nthe heaving deep, like a sea-gull: and the dark wave closed over her.\nBut the steadfast goodly Odysseus pondered, and heavily he spake to his\nown brave spirit:\n\n\u201cAh, woe is me! Can it be that some one of the immortals is weaving a\nnew snare for me, that she bids me quit my raft? Nay verily, I will not\nyet obey, for I had sight of the shore yet a long way off, where she\ntold me that I might escape. I am resolved what I will do;\u2014and methinks\non this wise it is best. So long as the timbers abide in the dowels, so\nlong will I endure steadfast in affliction, but so soon as the wave\nhath shattered my raft asunder, I will swim, for meanwhile no better\ncounsel may be.\u201d\n\nWhile yet he pondered these things in his heart and soul, Poseidon,\nshaker of the earth, stirred against him a great wave, terrible and\ngrievous, and vaulted from the crest, and therewith smote him. And as\nwhen a great tempestuous wind tosseth a heap of parched husks, and\nscatters them this way and that, even so did the wave scatter the long\nbeams of the raft. But Odysseus bestrode a single beam, as one rideth\non a courser, and stript him of the garments which fair Calypso gave\nhim. And presently he wound the veil beneath his breast, and fell prone\ninto the sea, outstretching his hands as one eager to swim. And the\nlord, the shaker of the earth, saw him and shook his head, and communed\nwith his own soul. \u201cEven so, after all thy sufferings, go wandering\nover the deep, till thou shalt come among a people, the fosterlings of\nZeus. Yet for all that I deem not that thou shalt think thyself too\nlightly afflicted.\u201d Therewith he lashed his steeds of the flowing\nmanes, and came to Aegae, where is his lordly home.\n\nBut Athene, daughter of Zeus, turned to new thoughts. Behold, she bound\nup the courses of the other winds, and charged them all to cease and be\nstill; but she roused the swift North and brake the waves before him,\nthat so Odysseus, of the seed of Zeus, might mingle with the\nPhaeacians, lovers of the oar, avoiding death and the fates.\n\nSo for two nights and two days he was wandering in the swell of the\nsea, and much his heart boded of death. But when at last the\nfair-tressed Dawn brought the full light of the third day, thereafter\nthe breeze fell, and lo, there was a breathless calm, and with a quick\nglance ahead, (he being upborne on a great wave,) he saw the land very\nnear. And even as when most welcome to his children is the sight of a\nfather\u2019s life, who lies in sickness and strong pains long wasting away,\nsome angry god assailing him; and to their delight the gods have loosed\nhim from his trouble; so welcome to Odysseus showed land and wood; and\nhe swam onward being eager to set foot on the strand. But when he was\nwithin earshot of the shore, and heard now the thunder of the sea\nagainst the reefs\u2014for the great wave crashed against the dry land\nbelching in terrible wise, and all was covered with foam of the\nsea,\u2014for there were no harbours for ships nor shelters, but jutting\nheadlands and reefs and cliffs; then at last the knees of Odysseus were\nloosened and his heart melted, and in heaviness he spake to his own\nbrave spirit:\n\n\u201cAh me! now that beyond all hope Zeus hath given me sight of land, and\nwithal I have cloven my way through this gulf of the sea, here there is\nno place to land on from out of the grey water. For without are sharp\ncrags, and round them the wave roars surging, and sheer the smooth rock\nrises, and the sea is deep thereby, so that in no wise may I find firm\nfoothold and escape my bane, for as I fain would go ashore, the great\nwave may haply snatch and dash me on the jagged rock\u2014and a wretched\nendeavour that would be. But if I swim yet further along the coast to\nfind, if I may, spits that take the waves aslant and havens of the sea,\nI fear lest the storm-winds catch me again and bear me over the teeming\ndeep, making heavy moan; or else some god may even send forth against\nme a monster from out of the shore water; and many such pastureth the\nrenowned Amphitrite. For I know how wroth against me hath been the\ngreat Shaker of the Earth.\u201d\n\nWhilst yet he pondered these things in his heart and mind, a great wave\nbore him to the rugged shore. There would he have been stript of his\nskin and all his bones been broken, but that the goddess, grey-eyed\nAthene, put a thought into his heart. He rushed in, and with both his\nhands clutched the rock, whereto he clung till the great wave went by.\nSo he escaped that peril, but again with backward wash it leapt on him\nand smote him and cast him forth into the deep. And as when the\ncuttlefish is dragged forth from his chamber, the many pebbles clinging\nto his suckers, even so was the skin stript from his strong hand\nagainst the rocks, and the great wave closed over him. There of a truth\nwould luckless Odysseus have perished beyond that which was ordained,\nhad not grey-eyed Athene given him sure counsel. He rose from the line\nof the breakers that belch upon the shore, and swam outside, ever\nlooking landwards, to find, if he might, spits that take the waves\naslant, and havens of the sea. But when he came in his swimming over\nagainst the mouth of a fair-flowing river, whereby the place seemed\nbest in his eyes, smooth of rocks, and withal there was a covert from\nthe wind, Odysseus felt the river running, and prayed to him in his\nheart:\n\n\u201cHear me, O king, whosoever thou art; unto thee am I come, as to one to\nwhom prayer is made, while I flee the rebukes of Poseidon from the\ndeep. Yea, reverend even to the deathless gods is that man who comes as\na wanderer, even as I now have come to thy stream and to thy knees\nafter much travail. Nay pity me, O king; for I avow myself thy\nsuppliant.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and the god straightway stayed his stream and withheld his\nwaves, and made the water smooth before him, and brought him safely to\nthe mouths of the river. And his knees bowed and his stout hands fell,\nfor his heart was broken by the brine. And his flesh was all swollen\nand a great stream of sea water gushed up through his mouth and\nnostrils. So he lay without breath or speech, swooning, such terrible\nweariness came upon him. But when now his breath returned and his\nspirit came to him again, he loosed from off him the veil of the\ngoddess, and let it fall into the salt flowing river. And the great\nwave bare it back down the stream, and lightly Ino caught it in her\nhands. Then Odysseus turned from the river, and fell back in the reeds,\nand kissed earth, the grain-giver, and heavily he spake unto his own\nbrave spirit:\n\n\u201cAh, woe is me! What is to betide me? What shall happen unto me at the\nlast? If I watch the river bed all through the careful night, I fear\nthat the bitter frost and fresh dew may overcome me, as I breathe forth\nmy life for faintness, for the river breeze blows cold betimes in the\nmorning. But if I climb the hill-side up to the shady wood, and there\ntake rest in the thickets, though perchance the cold and weariness\nleave hold of me, and sweet sleep may come over me, I fear lest of wild\nbeasts I become the spoil and prey.\u201d\n\nSo as he thought thereon this seemed to him the better way. He went up\nto the wood, and found it nigh the water in a place of wide prospect.\nSo he crept beneath twin bushes that grew from one stem, both olive\ntrees, one of them wild olive. Through these the force of the wet winds\nblew never, neither did the bright sun light on it with his rays, nor\ncould the rain pierce through, so close were they twined either to\nother; and thereunder crept Odysseus and anon he heaped together with\nhis hands a broad couch; for of fallen leaves there was great plenty,\nenough to cover two or three men in winter time, however hard the\nweather. And the steadfast goodly Odysseus beheld it and rejoiced, and\nhe laid him in the midst thereof and flung over him the fallen leaves.\nAnd as when a man hath hidden away a brand in the black embers at an\nupland farm, one that hath no neighbours nigh, and so saveth the seed\nof fire, that he may not have to seek a light otherwhere, even so did\nOdysseus cover him with the leaves. And Athene shed sleep upon his\neyes, that so it might soon release him from his weary travail,\novershadowing his eyelids.\n\n\n\nBOOK VI.\n\n\nNausicaa, going to a river near that place to wash the clothes of her\nfather, mother, and brethren, while the clothes were drying played with\nher maids at ball; and Odysseus coming forth is fed and clothed, and\nled on his way to the house of her father, King Alcinous.\n\n\nSo there he lay asleep, the steadfast goodly Odysseus, fordone with\ntoil and drowsiness. Meanwhile Athene went to the land and the city of\nthe Phaeacians, who of old, upon a time, dwelt in spacious Hypereia;\nnear the Cycl\u00f4pes they dwelt, men exceeding proud, who harried them\ncontinually, being mightier than they. Thence the godlike Nausithous\nmade them depart, and he carried them away, and planted them in\nScheria, far off from men that live by bread. And he drew a wall around\nthe town, and builded houses and made temples for the gods and meted\nout the fields. Howbeit ere this had he been stricken by fate, and had\ngone down to the house of Hades, and now Alcinous was reigning, with\nwisdom granted by the gods. To his house went the goddess, grey-eyed\nAthene, devising a return for the great-hearted Odysseus. She betook\nher to the rich-wrought bower, wherein was sleeping a maiden like to\nthe gods in form and comeliness, Nausicaa, the daughter of Alcinous,\nhigh of heart. Beside her on either hand of the pillars of the door\nwere two handmaids, dowered with beauty from the Graces, and the\nshining doors were shut.\n\nBut the goddess, fleet as the breath of the wind, swept towards the\ncouch of the maiden, and stood above her head, and spake to her in the\nsemblance of the daughter of a famous seafarer, Dymas, a girl of like\nage with Nausicaa, who had found grace in her sight. In her shape the\ngrey-eyed Athene spake to the princess, saying:\n\n\u201cNausicaa, how hath thy mother so heedless a maiden to her daughter?\nLo, thou hast shining raiment that lies by thee uncared for, and thy\nmarriage day is near at hand, when thou thyself must needs go\nbeautifully clad, and have garments to give to them who shall lead thee\nto the house of the bridegroom! And, behold, these are the things\nwhence a good report goes abroad among men, wherein a father and lady\nmother take delight. But come, let us arise and go a-washing with the\nbreaking of the day, and I will follow with thee to be thy mate in the\ntoil, that without delay thou mayst get thee ready, since truly thou\nart not long to be a maiden. Lo, already they are wooing thee, the\nnoblest youths of all the Phaeacians, among that people whence thou\nthyself dost draw thy lineage. So come, beseech thy noble father\nbetimes in the morning to furnish thee with mules and a wain to carry\nthe men\u2019s raiment, and the robes, and the shining coverlets. Yea and\nfor thyself it is seemlier far to go thus than on foot, for the places\nwhere we must wash are a great way off the town.\u201d\n\nSo spake the grey-eyed Athene, and departed to Olympus, where, as they\nsay, is the seat of the gods that standeth fast for ever. Not by winds\nis it shaken, nor ever wet with rain, nor doth the snow come nigh\nthereto, but most clear air is spread about it cloudless, and the white\nlight floats over it. Therein the blessed gods are glad for all their\ndays, and thither Athene went when she had shown forth all to the\nmaiden.\n\nAnon came the throned Dawn, and awakened Nausicaa of the fair robes,\nwho straightway marvelled on the dream, and went through the halls to\ntell her parents, her father dear and her mother. And she found them\nwithin, her mother sitting by the hearth with the women her handmaids,\nspinning yarn of sea-purple stain, but her father she met as he was\ngoing forth to the renowned kings in their council, whither the noble\nPhaeacians called him. Standing close by her dear father she spake,\nsaying: \u201cFather, dear, couldst thou not lend me a high waggon with\nstrong wheels, that I may take the goodly raiment to the river to wash,\nso much as I have lying soiled? Yea and it is seemly that thou thyself,\nwhen thou art with the princes in council, shouldest have fresh raiment\nto wear. Also, there are five dear sons of thine in the halls, two\nmarried, but three are lusty bachelors, and these are always eager for\nnew-washen garments wherein to go to the dances; for all these things\nhave I taken thought.\u201d\n\nThis she said, because she was ashamed to speak of glad marriage to her\nfather; but he saw all and answered, saying:\n\n\u201cNeither the mules nor aught else do I grudge thee, my child. Go thy\nways, and the thralls shall get thee ready a high waggon with good\nwheels, and fitted with an upper frame.\u201d\n\nTherewith he called to his men, and they gave ear, and without the\npalace they made ready the smooth-running mule-wain, and led the mules\nbeneath the yoke, and harnessed them under the car, while the maiden\nbrought forth from her bower the shining raiment. This she stored in\nthe polished car, and her mother filled a basket with all manner of\nfood to the heart\u2019s desire, dainties too she set therein, and she\npoured wine into a goat-skin bottle, while Nausicaa climbed into the\nwain. And her mother gave her soft olive oil also in a golden cruse,\nthat she and her maidens might anoint themselves after the bath. Then\nNausicaa took the whip and the shining reins, and touched the mules to\nstart them; then there was a clatter of hoofs, and on they strained\nwithout flagging, with their load of the raiment and the maiden. Not\nalone did she go, for her attendants followed with her.\n\nNow when they were come to the beautiful stream of the river, where\ntruly were the unfailing cisterns, and bright water welled up free from\nbeneath, and flowed past, enough to wash the foulest garments clean,\nthere the girls unharnessed the mules from under the chariot, and\nturning them loose they drove them along the banks of the eddying river\nto graze on the honey-sweet clover. Then they took the garments from\nthe wain, in their hands, and bore them to the black water, and briskly\ntrod them down in the trenches, in busy rivalry. Now when they had\nwashed and cleansed all the stains, they spread all out in order along\nthe shore of the deep, even where the sea, in beating on the coast,\nwashed the pebbles clean. Then having bathed and anointed them well\nwith olive oil, they took their mid-day meal on the river\u2019s banks,\nwaiting till the clothes should dry in the brightness of the sun. Anon,\nwhen they were satisfied with food, the maidens and the princess, they\nfell to playing at ball, casting away their tires, and among them\nNausicaa of the white arms began the song. And even as Artemis, the\narcher, moveth down the mountain, either along the ridges of lofty\nTaygetus or Erymanthus, taking her pastime in the chase of boars and\nswift deer, and with her the wild wood-nymphs disport them, the\ndaughters of Zeus, lord of the aegis, and Leto is glad at heart, while\nhigh over all she rears her head and brows, and easily may she be\nknown,\u2014but all are fair; even so the girl unwed outshone her maiden\ncompany.\n\nBut when now she was about going homewards, after yoking the mules and\nfolding up the goodly raiment, then grey-eyed Athene turned to other\nthoughts, that so Odysseus might awake, and see the lovely maiden, who\nshould be his guide to the city of the Phaeacian men. So then the\nprincess threw the ball at one of her company; she missed the girl, and\ncast the ball into the deep eddying current, whereat they all raised a\npiercing cry. Then the goodly Odysseus awoke and sat up, pondering in\nhis heart and spirit:\n\n\u201cWoe is me! to what men\u2019s land am I come now? say, are they froward,\nand wild, and unjust, or are they hospitable, and of God-fearing mind?\nHow shrill a cry of maidens rings round me, of the nymphs that hold the\nsteep hill-tops, and the river-springs, and the grassy water meadows!\nIt must be, methinks, that I am near men of human speech. Go to, I\nmyself will make trial and see.\u201d\n\nTherewith the goodly Odysseus crept out from under the coppice, having\nbroken with his strong hand a leafy bough from the thick wood, to hold\nathwart his body, that it might hide his nakedness withal. And forth he\nsallied like a lion mountain-bred, trusting in his strength, who fares\nout blown and rained upon, with flaming eyes; amid the kine he goes or\namid the sheep or in the track of the wild deer; yea, his belly bids\nhim go even to the good homestead to make assay upon the flocks. Even\nso Odysseus was fain to draw nigh to the fair-tressed maidens, all\nnaked as he was, such need had come upon him. But he was terrible in\ntheir eyes, being marred with the salt sea foam, and they fled cowering\nhere and there about the jutting spits of shore. And the daughter of\nAlcinous alone stood firm, for Athene gave her courage of heart, and\ntook all trembling from her limbs. So she halted and stood over against\nhim, and Odysseus considered whether he should clasp the knees of the\nlovely maiden, and so make his prayer, or should stand as he was,\napart, and beseech her with smooth words, if haply she might show him\nthe town, and give him raiment. And as he thought within himself, it\nseemed better to stand apart, and beseech her with smooth words, lest\nthe maiden should be angered with him if he touched her knees: so\nstraightway he spake a sweet and cunning word:\n\n\u201cI supplicate thee, O queen, whether thou art a goddess or a mortal! If\nindeed thou art a goddess of them that keep the wide heaven; to\nArtemis, then, the daughter of great Zeus, I mainly liken thee, for\nbeauty and stature and shapeliness. But if thou art one of the\ndaughters of men who dwell on earth, thrice blessed are thy father and\nthy lady mother, and thrice blessed thy brethren. Surely their souls\never glow with gladness for thy sake, each time they see thee entering\nthe dance, so fair a flower of maidens. But he is of heart the most\nblessed beyond all other who shall prevail with gifts of wooing, and\nlead thee to his home. Never have mine eyes beheld such an one among\nmortals, neither man nor woman; great awe comes upon me as I look on\nthee. Yet in Delos once I saw as goodly a thing: a young sapling of a\npalm tree springing by the altar of Apollo. For thither too I went, and\nmuch people with me, on that path where my sore troubles were to be.\nYea, and when I looked thereupon, long time I marvelled in spirit,\u2014for\nnever grew there yet so goodly a shoot from ground,\u2014even in such wise\nas I wonder at thee, lady, and am astonied and do greatly fear to touch\nthy knees, though grievous sorrow is upon me. Yesterday, on the\ntwentieth day, I escaped from the wine-dark deep, but all that time\ncontinually the wave bare me, and the vehement winds drave, from the\nisle Ogygia. And now some god has cast me on this shore, that here too,\nmethinks, some evil may betide me; for I trow not that trouble will\ncease; the gods ere that time will yet bring many a thing to pass. But,\nqueen, have pity on me, for after many trials and sore to thee first of\nall am I come, and of the other folk, who hold this city and land, I\nknow no man. Nay show me the town, give me an old garment to cast about\nme, if thou hadst, when thou camest here, any wrap for the linen. And\nmay the gods grant thee all thy heart\u2019s desire: a husband and a home,\nand a mind at one with his may they give\u2014a good gift, for there is\nnothing mightier and nobler than when man and wife are of one heart and\nmind in a house, a grief to their foes, and to their friends great joy,\nbut their own hearts know it best.\u201d\n\nThen Nausicaa of the white arms answered him, and said: \u201cStranger,\nforasmuch as thou seemest no evil man nor foolish\u2014and it is Olympian\nZeus himself that giveth weal to men, to the good and to the evil, to\neach one as he will, and this thy lot doubtless is of him, and so thou\nmust in anywise endure it:\u2014and now, since thou hast come to our city\nand our land, thou shalt not lack raiment, nor aught else that is the\ndue of a hapless suppliant, when he has met them who can befriend him.\nAnd I will show thee the town, and name the name of the people. The\nPhaeacians hold this city and land, and I am the daughter of Alcinous,\ngreat of heart, on whom all the might and force of the Phaeacians\ndepend.\u201d\n\nThus she spake, and called to her maidens of the fair tresses: \u201cHalt,\nmy maidens, whither flee ye at the sight of a man? Ye surely do not\ntake him for an enemy? That mortal breathes not, and never will be\nborn, who shall come with war to the land of the Phaeacians, for they\nare very dear to the gods. Far apart we live in the wash of the waves,\nthe outermost of men, and no other mortals are conversant with us. Nay,\nbut this man is some helpless one come hither in his wanderings, whom\nnow we must kindly entreat, for all strangers and beggars are from\nZeus, and a little gift is dear. So, my maidens, give the stranger meat\nand drink, and bathe him in the river, where withal is a shelter from\nthe winds.\u201d\n\nSo she spake, but they had halted and called each to the other, and\nthey brought Odysseus to the sheltered place, and made him sit down, as\nNausicaa bade them, the daughter of Alcinous, high of heart. Beside him\nthey laid a mantle, and a doublet for raiment, and gave him soft olive\noil in the golden cruse, and bade him wash in the streams of the river.\nThen goodly Odysseus spake among the maidens, saying: \u201cI pray you stand\nthus apart, while I myself wash the brine from my shoulders, and anoint\nme with olive oil, for truly oil is long a stranger to my skin. But in\nyour sight I will not bathe, for I am ashamed to make me naked in the\ncompany of fair-tressed maidens.\u201d\n\nThen they went apart and told all to their lady. But with the river\nwater the goodly Odysseus washed from his skin the salt scurf that\ncovered his back and broad shoulders, and from his head he wiped the\ncrusted brine of the barren sea. But when he had washed his whole body,\nand anointed him with olive oil, and had clad himself in the raiment\nthat the unwedded maiden gave him, then Athene, the daughter of Zeus,\nmade him greater and more mighty to behold, and from his head caused\ndeep curling locks to flow, like the hyacinth flower. And as when some\nskilful man overlays gold upon silver\u2014one that Hephaestus and Pallas\nAthene have taught all manner of craft, and full of grace is his\nhandiwork\u2014even so did Athene shed grace about his head and shoulders.\n\nThen to the shore of the sea went Odysseus apart, and sat down, glowing\nin beauty and grace, and the princess marvelled at him, and spake among\nher fair-tressed maidens, saying:\n\n\u201cListen, my white-armed maidens, and I will say somewhat. Not without\nthe will of all the gods who hold Olympus hath this man come among the\ngodlike Phaeacians. Erewhile he seemed to me uncomely, but now he is\nlike the gods that keep the wide heaven. Would that such an one might\nbe called my husband, dwelling here, and that it might please him here\nto abide! But come, my maidens, give the stranger meat and drink.\u201d\n\nThus she spake, and they gave ready ear and hearkened, and set beside\nOdysseus meat and drink, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus did eat and\ndrink eagerly, for it was long since he had tasted food.\n\nNow Nausicaa of the white arms had another thought. She folded the\nraiment and stored it in the goodly wain, and yoked the mules strong of\nhoof, and herself climbed into the car. Then she called on Odysseus,\nand spake and hailed him: \u201cUp now, stranger, and rouse thee to go to\nthe city, that I may convey thee to the house of my wise father, where,\nI promise thee, thou shalt get knowledge of all the noblest of the\nPhaeacians. But do thou even as I tell thee, and thou seemest a\ndiscreet man enough. So long as we are passing along the fields and\nfarms of men, do thou fare quickly with the maidens behind the mules\nand the chariot, and I will lead the way. But when we set foot within\nthe city,\u2014whereby goes a high wall with towers, and there is a fair\nhaven on either side of the town, and narrow is the entrance, and\ncurved ships are drawn up on either hand of the mole, for all the folk\nhave stations for their vessels, each man one for himself. And there is\nthe place of assembly about the goodly temple of Poseidon, furnished\nwith heavy stones, deep bedded in the earth. There men look to the gear\nof the black ships, hawsers and sails, and there they fine down the\noars. For the Phaeacians care not for bow nor quiver, but for masts,\nand oars of ships, and gallant barques, wherein rejoicing they cross\nthe grey sea. Their ungracious speech it is that I would avoid, lest\nsome man afterward rebuke me, and there are but too many insolent folk\namong the people. And some one of the baser sort might meet me and say:\n\u2018Who is this that goes with Nausicaa, this tall and goodly stranger?\nWhere found she him? Her husband he will be, her very own. Either she\nhas taken in some shipwrecked wanderer of strange men,\u2014for no men dwell\nnear us; or some god has come in answer to her instant prayer; from\nheaven has he descended, and will have her to wife for evermore. Better\nso, if herself she has ranged abroad and found a lord from a strange\nland, for verily she holds in no regard the Phaeacians here in this\ncountry, the many men and noble who are her wooers.\u2019 So will they\nspeak, and this would turn to my reproach. Yea, and I myself would\nthink it blame of another maiden who did such things in despite of her\nfriends, her father and mother being still alive, and was conversant\nwith men before the day of open wedlock. But, stranger, heed well what\nI say, that as soon as may be thou mayest gain at my father\u2019s hands an\nescort and a safe return. Thou shalt find a fair grove of Athene, a\npoplar grove near the road, and a spring wells forth therein, and a\nmeadow lies all around. There is my father\u2019s demesne, and his fruitful\nclose, within the sound of a man\u2019s shout from the city. Sit thee down\nthere and wait until such time as we may have come into the city, and\nreached the house of my father. But when thou deemest that we are got\nto the palace, then go up to the city of the Phaeacians, and ask for\nthe house of my father Alcinous, high of heart. It is easily known, and\na young child could be thy guide, for nowise like it are builded the\nhouses of the Phaeacians, so goodly is the palace of the hero Alcinous.\nBut when thou art within the shadow of the halls and the court, pass\nquickly through the great chamber, till thou comest to my mother, who\nsits at the hearth in the light of the fire, weaving yarn of sea-purple\nstain, a wonder to behold. Her chair is leaned against a pillar, and\nher maidens sit behind her. And there my father\u2019s throne leans close to\nhers, wherein he sits and drinks his wine, like an immortal. Pass thou\nby him, and cast thy hands about my mother\u2019s knees, that thou mayest\nsee quickly and with joy the day of thy returning, even if thou art\nfrom a very far country. If but her heart be kindly disposed toward\nthee, then is there hope that thou shalt see thy friends, and come to\nthy well-builded house, and to thine own country.\u201d\n\nShe spake, and smote the mules with the shining whip, and quickly they\nleft behind them the streams of the river. And well they trotted and\nwell they paced, and she took heed to drive in such wise that the\nmaidens and Odysseus might follow on foot, and cunningly she plied the\nlash. Then the sun set, and they came to the famous grove, the sacred\nplace of Athene; so there the goodly Odysseus sat him down. Then\nstraightway he prayed to the daughter of mighty Zeus: \u201cListen to me,\nchild of Zeus, lord of the aegis, unwearied maiden; hear me even now,\nsince before thou heardest not when I was smitten on the sea, when the\nrenowned Earth-shaker smote me. Grant me to come to the Phaeacians as\none dear, and worthy of pity.\u201d\n\nSo he spake in prayer, and Pallas Athene heard him; but she did not yet\nappear to him face to face, for she had regard unto her father\u2019s\nbrother, who furiously raged against the godlike Odysseus, till he\nshould come to his own country.\n\n\n\nBOOK VII.\n\n\nOdysseus being received at the house of the king Alcinous, the queen\nafter supper, taking notice of his garments, gives him occasion to\nrelate his passage thither on the raft. Alcinous promises him a convoy\nfor the morrow.\n\n\nSo he prayed there, the steadfast goodly Odysseus, while the two strong\nmules bare the princess to the town. And when she had now come to the\nfamous palace of her father, she halted at the gateway, and round her\ngathered her brothers, men like to the immortals, and they loosed the\nmules from under the car, and carried the raiment within. But the\nmaiden betook her to her chamber; and an aged dame from Aperaea kindled\nthe fire for her, Eurymedusa, the handmaid of the chamber, whom the\ncurved ships upon a time had brought from Aperaea; and men chose her as\na prize for Alcinous, seeing that he bare rule over all the Phaeacians,\nand the people hearkened to him as to a god. She waited on the\nwhite-armed Nausicaa in the palace halls; she was wont to kindle the\nfire and prepare the supper in the inner chamber.\n\nAt that same hour Odysseus roused him to go to the city, and Athene\nshed a deep mist about Odysseus for the favour that she bare him, lest\nany of the Phaeacians, high of heart, should meet him and mock him in\nsharp speech, and ask him who he was. But when he was now about to\nenter the pleasant city, then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, met him,\nin the fashion of a young maiden carrying a pitcher, and she stood over\nagainst him, and goodly Odysseus inquired of her:\n\n\u201cMy child, couldst thou not lead me to the palace of the lord Alcinous,\nwho bears sway among this people? Lo, I am come here, a stranger\ntravel-worn from afar, from a distant land; wherefore of the folk who\npossess this city and country I know not any man.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him saying: \u201cYea now,\nfather and stranger, I will show thee the house that thou bidst me\ndeclare, for it lies near the palace of my noble father; behold, be\nsilent as thou goest, and I will lead the way. And look on no man, nor\nquestion any. For these men do not gladly suffer strangers, nor\nlovingly entreat whoso cometh from a strange land. They trust to the\nspeed of their swift ships, wherewith they cross the great gulf, for\nthe Earth-shaker hath vouchsafed them this power. Their ships are swift\nas the flight of a bird, or as a thought.\u201d\n\nTherewith Pallas Athene led the way swiftly, and he followed hard in\nthe footsteps of the goddess. And it came to pass that the Phaeacians,\nmariners renowned, marked him not as he went down the city through\ntheir midst, for the fair tressed Athene suffered it not, that awful\ngoddess, who shed a wondrous mist about him, for the favour that she\nbare him in her heart. And Odysseus marvelled at the havens and the\ngallant ships, yea and the places of assembly of the heroes, and the\nlong high walls crowned with palisades, a marvel to behold. But when\nthey had now come to the famous palace of the king, the goddess,\ngrey-eyed Athene, spake first and said:\n\n\u201cLo, here, father and stranger, is the house that thou wouldst have me\nshow thee: and thou shalt find kings at the feast, the fosterlings of\nZeus; enter then, and fear not in thine heart, for the dauntless man is\nthe best in every adventure, even though he come from a strange land.\nThou shalt find the queen first in the halls; Arete is the name whereby\nmen call her, and she came even of those that begat the king Alcinous.\nFirst Nausithous was son of Poseidon, the Earth-shaker, and of\nPeriboea, the comeliest of women, youngest daughter of great-hearted\nEurymedon, who once was king among the haughty Giants. Howbeit, he\ndestroyed his infatuate people, and was himself destroyed; but Poseidon\nlay with Periboea and begat a son, proud Nausithous, who sometime was\nprince among the Phaeacians; and Nausithous begat Rhexenor and\nAlcinous. While Rhexenor had as yet no son, Apollo of the silver bow\nsmote him, a groom new wed, leaving in his halls one only child Arete;\nand Alcinous took her to wife, and honoured her as no other woman in\nthe world is honoured, of all that now-a-days keep house under the hand\nof their lords. Thus she hath, and hath ever had, all worship heartily\nfrom her dear children and from her lord Alcinous and from all the\nfolk, who look on her as on a goddess, and greet her with reverend\nspeech, when she goes about the town. Yea, for she too hath no lack of\nunderstanding. To whomso she shows favour, even if they be men, she\nends their feuds.[14] If but her heart be kindly disposed to thee, then\nis there good hope that thou mayest see thy friends, and come to thy\nhigh-roofed home and thine own country.\u201d\n\n [14] v. l. \u1f97\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd. And for the women she favours, she ends the feuds of\n their lords also.\n\n\nTherewith grey-eyed Athene departed over the unharvested seas, and left\npleasant Scheria, and came to Marathon and wide-wayed Athens, and\nentered the good house of Erechtheus. Meanwhile Odysseus went to the\nfamous palace of Alcinous, and his heart was full of many thoughts as\nhe stood there or ever he had reached the threshold of bronze. For\nthere was a gleam as it were of sun or moon through the high-roofed\nhall of great-hearted Alcinous. Brazen were the walls which ran this\nway and that from the threshold to the inmost chamber, and round them\nwas a frieze of blue, and golden were the doors that closed in the good\nhouse. Silver were the door-posts that were set on the brazen\nthreshold, and silver the lintel thereupon, and the hook of the door\nwas of gold. And on either side stood golden hounds and silver, which\nHephaestus wrought by his cunning, to guard the palace of great-hearted\nAlcinous, being free from death and age all their days. And within were\nseats arrayed against the wall this way and that, from the threshold\neven to the inmost chamber, and thereon were spread light coverings\nfinely woven, the handiwork of women. There the Phaeacian chieftains\nwere wont to sit eating and drinking, for they had continual store.\nYea, and there were youths fashioned in gold, standing on firm-set\nbases, with flaming torches in their hands, giving light through the\nnight to the feasters in the palace. And he had fifty handmaids in the\nhouse, and some grind the yellow grain on the millstone, and others\nweave webs and turn the yarn as they sit, restless as the leaves of the\ntall poplar tree: and the soft olive oil drops off that linen, so\nclosely is it woven. For as the Phaeacian men are skilled beyond all\nothers in driving a swift ship upon the deep, even so are the women the\nmost cunning at the loom, for Athene hath given them notable wisdom in\nall fair handiwork and cunning wit. And without the courtyard hard by\nthe door is a great garden, off our ploughgates, and a hedge runs round\non either side. And there grow tall trees blossoming, pear-trees and\npomegranates, and apple-trees with bright fruit, and sweet figs, and\nolives in their bloom. The fruit of these trees never perisheth neither\nfaileth, winter nor summer, enduring through all the year. Evermore the\nWest Wind blowing brings some fruits to birth and ripens others. Pear\nupon pear waxes old, and apple on apple, yea and cluster ripens upon\ncluster of the grape, and fig upon fig. There too hath he a fruitful\nvineyard planted, whereof the one part is being dried by the heat, a\nsunny plot on level ground, while other grapes men are gathering, and\nyet others they are treading in the wine-press. In the foremost row are\nunripe grapes that cast the blossom, and others there be that are\ngrowing black to vintaging. There too, skirting the furthest line, are\nall manner of garden beds, planted trimly, that are perpetually fresh,\nand therein are two fountains of water, whereof one scatters his\nstreams all about the garden, and the other runs over against it\nbeneath the threshold of the courtyard, and issues by the lofty house,\nand thence did the townsfolk draw water. These were the splendid gifts\nof the gods in the palace of Alcinous.\n\nThere the steadfast goodly Odysseus stood and gazed. But when he had\ngazed at all and wondered, he passed quickly over the threshold within\nthe house. And he found the captains and the counsellors of the\nPhaeacians pouring forth wine to the keen-sighted god, the slayer of\nArgos; for to him they poured the last cup when they were minded to\ntake rest. Now the steadfast goodly Odysseus went through the hall,\nclad in a thick mist, which Athene shed around him, till he came to\nArete and the king Alcinous. And Odysseus cast his hands about the\nknees of Arete, and then it was that the wondrous mist melted from off\nhim, and a silence fell on them that were within the house at the sight\nof him, and they marvelled as they beheld him. Then Odysseus began his\nprayer:\n\n\u201cArete, daughter of god-like Rhexenor, after many toils am I come to\nthy husband and to thy knees and to these guests, and may the gods\nvouchsafe them a happy life, and may each one leave to his children\nafter him his substance in his halls and whatever dues of honour the\npeople have rendered unto him. But speed, I pray you, my parting, that\nI may come the more quickly to mine own country, for already too long\ndo I suffer affliction far from my friends.\u201d\n\nTherewith he sat him down by the hearth in the ashes at the fire, and\nbehold, a dead silence fell on all. And at the last the ancient lord\nEcheneus spake among them, an elder of the Phaeacians, excellent in\nspeech and skilled in much wisdom of old time. With good will he made\nharangue and spake among them:\n\n\u201cAlcinous, this truly is not the more seemly way, nor is it fitting\nthat the stranger should sit upon the ground in the ashes by the\nhearth, while these men refrain them, waiting thy word. Nay come, bid\nthe stranger arise, and set him on a chair inlaid with silver, and\ncommand the henchmen to mix the wine, that we may pour forth likewise\nbefore Zeus, whose joy is in the thunder, who attendeth upon reverend\nsuppliants. And let the housewife give supper to the stranger out of\nsuch stores as be within.\u201d\n\nNow when the mighty king Alcinous heard this saying, he took Odysseus,\nthe wise and crafty, by the hand, and raised him from the hearth, and\nset him on a shining chair, whence he bade his son give place, valiant\nLaodamas, who sat next him and was his dearest. And a handmaid bare\nwater for the hands in a goodly golden ewer, and poured it forth over a\nsilver basin to wash withal, and drew to his side a polished table. And\na grave dame bare wheaten bread and set it by him and laid upon the\nboard many dainties, giving freely of such things as she had by her. So\nthe steadfast goodly Odysseus did eat and drink: and then the mighty\nAlcinous spake unto the henchman:\n\n\u201cPontonous, mix the bowl and serve out the wine to all in the hall,\nthat we may pour forth likewise before Zeus, whose joy is in the\nthunder, who attendeth upon reverend suppliants.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine, and served it\nout to all, when he had poured for libation into each cup in turn. But\nwhen they had poured forth and had drunken to their heart\u2019s content,\nAlcinous made harangue and spake among them:\n\n\u201cHear me, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, that I may\nspeak as my spirit bids me. Now that the feast is over, go ye home and\nlie down to rest; and in the morning we will call yet more elders\ntogether, and entertain the stranger in the halls and do fair sacrifice\nto the gods, and thereafter we will likewise bethink us of the convoy,\nthat so without pain or grief yonder stranger may by our convoy reach\nhis own country speedily and with joy, even though he be from very far\naway. So shall he suffer no hurt or harm in mid passage, ere he set\nfoot on his own land; but thereafter he shall endure such things as\nFate and the stern spinning women drew off the spindles for him at his\nbirth when his mother bare him. But if he is some deathless god come\ndown from heaven, then do the gods herein imagine some new device\nagainst us. For always heretofore the gods appear manifest amongst us,\nwhensoever we offer glorious hecatombs, and they feast by our side,\nsitting at the same board; yea, and even if a wayfarer going all alone\nhas met with them, they use no disguise, since we are near of kin to\nthem, even as are the Cycl\u00f4pes and the wild tribes of the Giants.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him, saying: \u201cAlcinous, that\nthought be far from thee! for I bear no likeness either in form or\nfashion to the deathless gods, who keep wide heaven, but to men that\ndie. Whomsoever ye know of human kind the heaviest laden with sorrow,\nto them might I liken myself in my griefs. Yea, and I might tell of yet\nother woes, even the long tale of toil that by the gods\u2019 will I\nendured. But as for me, suffer me to sup, afflicted as I am; for nought\nis there more shameless than a ravening belly, which biddeth a man\nperforce be mindful of him, though one be worn and sorrowful in spirit,\neven as I have sorrow of heart; yet evermore he biddeth me eat and\ndrink and maketh me utterly to forget all my sufferings, and commandeth\nme to take my fill. But do ye bestir you at the breaking of the day,\nthat so ye may set me, hapless as I am, upon my country\u2019s soil, albeit\nafter much suffering. Ah, and may life leave me when I have had sight\nof mine own possessions, my thralls, and my dwelling that is great and\nhigh!\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and they all assented thereto, and bade send the stranger\non his way, for that he had spoken aright. Now when they had poured\nforth and had drunken to their hearts\u2019 content, they went each one to\nhis house to lay them to rest. But goodly Odysseus was left behind in\nthe hall, and by him sat Arete and godlike Alcinous; and the maids\ncleared away the furniture of the feast; and white-armed Arete first\nspake among them. For she knew the mantle and the doublet, when she saw\nthe goodly raiment that she herself had wrought with the women her\nhandmaids. So she uttered her voice and spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cSir, I am bold to ask thee first of this. Who art thou of the sons of\nmen, and whence? Who gave thee this raiment? Didst thou not say indeed\nthat thou camest hither wandering over the deep?\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered her, and said: \u201c\u2019Tis hard, O\nqueen, to tell my griefs from end to end, for that the gods of heaven\nhave given me griefs in plenty. But this will I declare to thee,\nwhereof thou dost question and inquire. There is an isle, Ogygia, that\nlies far off in the sea; there dwells the daughter of Atlas, crafty\nCalypso, of the braided tresses, an awful goddess, nor is any either of\ngods or mortals conversant with her. Howbeit, some god brought me to\nher hearth, wretched man that I am, all alone, for that Zeus with white\nbolt crushed my swift ship and cleft it in the midst of the wine-dark\ndeep. There all the rest of my good company was lost, but I clung with\nfast embrace about the keel of the curved ship, and so was I borne for\nnine whole days. And on the tenth dark night the gods brought me nigh\nthe isle Ogygia, where Calypso of the braided tresses dwells, an awful\ngoddess. She took me in, and with all care she cherished me and gave me\nsustenance, and said that she would make me to know not death nor age\nfor all my days; but never did she win my heart within me. There I\nabode for seven years continually, and watered with my tears the\nimperishable raiment that Calypso gave me. But when the eighth year\ncame round in his course, then at last she urged and bade me to be\ngone, by reason of a message from Zeus, or it may be that her own mind\nwas turned. So she sent me forth on a well-bound raft, and gave me\nplenteous store, bread and sweet wine, and she clad me in imperishable\nraiment, and sent forth a warm and gentle wind to blow. For ten days\nand seven I sailed, traversing the deep, and on the eighteenth day the\nshadowy hills of your land showed in sight, and my heart was\nglad,\u2014wretched that I was\u2014for surely I was still to be the mate of much\nsorrow. For Poseidon, shaker of the earth, stirred up the same, who\nroused against me the winds and stopped my way, and made a wondrous sea\nto swell, nor did the wave suffer me to be borne upon my raft, as I\nmade ceaseless moan. Thus the storm winds shattered the raft, but as\nfor me I cleft my way through the gulf yonder, till the wind bare and\nthe water brought me nigh your coast. Then as I strove to land upon the\nshore, the wave had overwhelmed me, dashing me against the great rocks\nand a desolate place, but at length I gave way and swam back, till I\ncame to the river, where the place seemed best in mine eyes, smooth of\nrocks, and withal there was a shelter from the wind. And as I came out\nI sank down, gathering to me my spirit, and immortal night came on.\nThen I gat me forth and away from the heaven-fed river, and laid me to\nsleep in the bushes and strewed leaves about me, and the god shed over\nme infinite sleep. There among the leaves I slept, stricken at heart,\nall the night long, even till the morning and mid-day. And the sun sank\nwhen sweet sleep let me free. And I was aware of the company of thy\ndaughter disporting them upon the sand, and there was she in the midst\nof them like unto the goddesses. To her I made my supplication, and she\nshowed no lack of a good understanding, behaving so as thou couldst not\nhope for in chancing upon one so young; for the younger folk lack\nwisdom always. She gave me bread enough and red wine, and let wash me\nin the river and bestowed on me these garments. Herein, albeit in sore\ndistress, have I told thee all the truth.\u201d\n\nAnd Alcinous answered again, and spake saying: \u201cSir, surely this was no\nright thought of my daughter, in that she brought thee not to our house\nwith the women her handmaids, though thou didst first entreat her\ngrace.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered, and said unto him: \u201cMy lord,\nchide not, I pray thee, for this the blameless maiden. For indeed she\nbade me follow with her company, but I would not for fear and very\nshame, lest perchance thine heart might be clouded at the sight; for a\njealous race upon the earth are we, the tribes of men.\u201d\n\nAnd Alcinous answered yet again, and spake saying: \u201cSir, my heart\nwithin me is not of such temper as to have been wroth without a cause:\ndue measure in all things is best. Would to father Zeus, and Athene,\nand Apollo, would that so goodly a man as thou art, and like-minded\nwith me, thou wouldst wed my daughter, and be called my son, here\nabiding: so would I give thee house and wealth, if thou wouldst stay of\nthine own will: but against thy will shall none of the Phaeacians keep\nthee: never be this well-pleasing in the eyes of father Zeus! And now I\nordain an escort for thee on a certain day, that thou mayst surely\nknow, and that day the morrow. Then shalt thou lay thee down overcome\nby sleep, and they the while shall smite the calm waters, till thou\ncome to thy country and thy house, and whatsoever place is dear to\nthee, even though it be much farther than Euboea, which certain of our\nmen say is the farthest of lands, they who saw it, when they carried\nRhadamanthus, of the fair hair, to visit Tityos, son of Gaia. Even\nthither they went, and accomplished the journey on the self-same day\nand won home again, and were not weary. And now shalt thou know for\nthyself how far my ships are the best, and how my young men excel at\ntossing the salt water with the oar-blade.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus rejoiced; and then he\nuttered a word in prayer, and called aloud to Zeus: \u201cFather Zeus, oh\nthat Alcinous may fulfil all that he hath said, so may his fame never\nbe quenched upon the earth, the grain-giver, and I should come to mine\nown land!\u201d\n\nThus they spake one to the other. And white-armed Arete bade her\nhandmaids set out bedsteads beneath the gallery, and cast fair purple\nblankets over them, and spread coverlets above, and thereon lay thick\nmantles to be a clothing over all. So they went from the hall with\ntorch in hand. But when they had busied them and spread the good\nbedstead, they stood by Odysseus and called unto him, saying:\n\n\u201cUp now, stranger, and get thee to sleep, thy bed is made.\u201d\n\nSo spake they, and it seemed to him that rest was wondrous good. So he\nslept there, the steadfast goodly Odysseus, on the jointed bedstead,\nbeneath the echoing gallery. But Alcinous laid him down in the\ninnermost chamber of the high house, and by him the lady his wife\narrayed bedstead and bedding.\n\n\n\nBOOK VIII.\n\n\nThe next day\u2019s entertainment of Odysseus, where he sees them contend in\nwrestling and other exercises, and upon provocation took up a greater\nstone than that which they were throwing, and overthrew them all.\nAlcinous and the lords give him presents. And how the king asked his\nname, his country, and his adventures.\n\n\nNow when early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, then the mighty\nking Alcinous gat him up from his bed; and Odysseus, of the seed of\nZeus, likewise uprose, the waster of cities. And the mighty king\nAlcinous led the way to the assembly place of the Phaeacians, which\nthey had established hard by the ships. So when they had come thither,\nand sat them down on the polished stones close by each other, Pallas\nAthene went on her way through the town, in the semblance of the herald\nof wise Alcinous, devising a return for the great-hearted Odysseus.\nThen standing by each man she spake, saying:\n\n\u201cHither now get ye to the assembly, ye captains and counsellors of the\nPhaeacians, that ye may learn concerning the stranger, who hath lately\ncome to the palace of wise Alcinous, in his wanderings over the deep,\nand his form is like the deathless gods.\u201d\n\nTherewith she aroused the spirit and desire of each one, and speedily\nthe meeting-places and seats were filled with men that came to the\ngathering: yea, and many an one marvelled at the sight of the wise son\nof Laertes, for wondrous was the grace Athene poured upon his head and\nshoulders, and she made him greater and more mighty to behold, that he\nmight win love and worship and honour among all the Phaeacians, and\nthat he might accomplish many feats, wherein the Phaeacians made trial\nof Odysseus. Now when they were gathered and come together, Alcinous\nmade harangue and spake among them:\n\n\u201cHarken, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, and I will say\nthat which my spirit within me bids me utter. This stranger, I know not\nwho he is, hath come to my house in his wandering, whether from the men\nof the dawning or the westward, and he presses for a convoy, and prays\nthat it be assured to him. So let us, as in time past, speed on the\nconvoy. For never, nay never, doth any man who cometh to my house,\nabide here long in sorrow for want of help upon his way. Nay, come let\nus draw down a black ship to the fair salt sea, for her first voyage,\nand let them choose fifty and two noble youths throughout the township,\nwho have been proved heretofore the best. And when ye have made fast\nthe oars upon the benches, step all a shore, and thereafter come to our\nhouse, and quickly fall to feasting; and I will make good provision for\nall. To the noble youths I give this commandment; but ye others,\nsceptred kings, come to my fair dwelling, that we may entertain the\nstranger in the halls, and let no man make excuse. Moreover, bid hither\nthe divine minstrel, Demodocus, for the god hath given minstrelsy to\nhim as to none other, to make men glad in what way soever his spirit\nstirs him to sing.\u201d\n\nHe spake and led the way, and the sceptred kings accompanied him, while\nthe henchmen went for the divine minstrel. And chosen youths, fifty and\ntwo, departed at his command, to the shore of the unharvested sea. But\nafter they had gone down to the ship and to the sea, first of all they\ndrew the ship down to the deep water, and placed the mast and sails in\nthe black ship, and fixed the oars in leathern loops, all orderly, and\nspread forth the white sails. And they moored her high out in the shore\nwater, and thereafter went on their way to the great palace of the wise\nAlcinous. Now the galleries and the courts and the rooms were thronged\nwith men that came to the gathering, for there were many, young and\nold. Then Alcinous sacrificed twelve sheep among them, and eight boars\nwith flashing tusks, and two oxen with trailing feet. These they flayed\nand made ready, and dressed a goodly feast.\n\nThen the henchman drew near, leading with him the beloved minstrel,\nwhom the muse loved dearly, and she gave him both good and evil; of his\nsight she reft him, but granted him sweet song. Then Pontonous, the\nhenchman, set for him a high chair inlaid with silver, in the midst of\nthe guests, leaning it against the tall pillar, and he hung the loud\nlyre on a pin, close above his head, and showed him how to lay his\nhands on it. And close by him he placed a basket, and a fair table, and\na goblet of wine by his side, to drink when his spirit bade him. So\nthey stretched forth their hands upon the good cheer spread before\nthem. But after they had put from them the desire of meat and drink,\nthe Muse stirred the minstrel to sing the songs of famous men, even\nthat lay whereof the fame had then reached the wide heaven, namely, the\nquarrel between Odysseus and Achilles, son of Peleus; how once on a\ntime they contended in fierce words at a rich festival of the gods, but\nAgamemnon, king of men, was inly glad when the noblest of the Achaeans\nfell at variance. For so Phoebus Apollo in his soothsaying had told him\nthat it must be, in goodly Pytho, what time he crossed the threshold of\nstone, to seek to the oracle. For in those days the first wave of woe\nwas rolling on Trojans and Danaans through the counsel of great Zeus.\n\nThis song it was that the famous minstrel sang; but Odysseus caught his\ngreat purple cloak with his stalwart hands, and drew it down over his\nhead, and hid his comely face, for he was ashamed to shed tears beneath\nhis brows in presence of the Phaeacians. Yea, and oft as the divine\nminstrel paused in his song, Odysseus would wipe away the tears, and\ndraw the cloak from off his head, and take the two-handled goblet and\npour forth before the gods. But whensoever he began again, and the\nchiefs of the Phaeacians stirred him to sing, in delight at the lay,\nagain would Odysseus cover up his head and make moan. Now none of all\nthe company marked him weeping, but Alcinous alone noted it and was\nware thereof as he sat by him and heard him groaning heavily. And\npresently he spake among the Phaeacians, masters of the oar:\n\n\u201cHearken, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, now have our\nsouls been satisfied with the good feast, and with the lyre, which is\nthe mate of the rich banquet. Let us go forth anon, and make trial of\ndivers games, that the stranger may tell his friends, when home he\nreturneth, how greatly we excel all men in boxing, and wrestling, and\nleaping, and speed of foot.\u201d\n\nHe spake, and led the way, and they went with him. And the henchman\nhung the loud lyre on the pin, and took the hand of Demodocus, and let\nhim forth from the hall, and guided him by the same way, whereby those\nothers, the chiefs of the Phaeacians, had gone to gaze upon the games.\nSo they went on their way to the place of assembly, and with them a\ngreat company innumerable; and many a noble youth stood up to play.\nThere rose Acroneus, and Ocyalus, and Elatreus, and Nauteus, and\nPrymneus, and Anchialus, and Eretmeus, and Ponteus, and Proreus, Thoon,\nand Anabesineus, and Amphialus, son of Polyneus, son of Tekton, and\nlikewise Euryalus, the peer of murderous Ares, the son of Naubolus, who\nin face and form was goodliest of all the Phaeacians next to noble\nLaodamas. And there stood up the three sons of noble Alcinous,\nLaodamas, and Halius, and god-like Clytoneus. And behold, these all\nfirst tried the issue in the foot race. From the very start they\nstrained at utmost speed: and all together they flew forward swiftly,\nraising the dust along the plain. And noble Clytoneus was far the\nswiftest of them all in running, and by the length of the furrow that\nmules cleave in a fallow field,[15] so far did he shoot to the front,\nand came to the crowd by the lists, while those others were left\nbehind. Then they made trial of strong wrestling, and here in turn\nEuryalus excelled all the best. And in leaping Amphialus was far the\nforemost, and Elatreus in weight-throwing, and in boxing Laodamas, the\ngood son of Alcinous. Now when they had all taken their pleasure in the\ngames, Laodamas, son of Alcinous, spake among them:\n\n [15] The distance here indicated seems to be that which the mule goes\n in ploughing, without pausing to take breath.\n\n\n\u201cCome, my friends, let us ask the stranger whether he is skilled or\npractised in any sport. Ill fashioned, at least, he is not in his\nthighs and sinewy legs and hands withal, and his stalwart neck and\nmighty strength: yea and he lacks not youth, but is crushed by many\ntroubles. For I tell thee there is nought else worse than the sea to\nconfound a man, how hardy soever he may be.\u201d\n\nAnd Euryalus in turn made answer, and said: \u201cLaodamas, verily thou hast\nspoken this word in season. Go now thyself and challenge him, and\ndeclare thy saying.\u201d\n\nNow when the good son of Alcinous heard this, he went and stood in the\nmidst, and spake unto Odysseus: \u201cCome, do thou too, father and\nstranger, try thy skill in the sports, if haply thou art practised in\nany; and thou art like to have knowledge of games, for there is no\ngreater glory for a man while yet he lives, than that which he achieves\nby hand and foot. Come, then, make essay, and cast away care from thy\nsoul: thy journey shall not now be long delayed; lo, thy ship is even\nnow drawn down to the sea, and the men of thy company are ready.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him, saying; \u201cLaodamas,\nwherefore do ye mock me, requiring this thing of me? Sorrow is far\nnearer my heart than sports, for much have I endured and laboured\nsorely in time past, and now I sit in this your gathering, craving my\nreturn, and making my prayer to the king and all the people.\u201d\n\nAnd Euryalus answered, and rebuked him to his face: \u201cNo truly,\nstranger, nor do I think thee at all like one that is skilled in games,\nwhereof there are many among men, rather art thou such an one as comes\nand goes in a benched ship, a master of sailors that are merchantmen,\none with a memory for his freight, or that hath the charge of a cargo\nhomeward bound, and of greedily gotten gains; thou seemest not a man of\nthy hands.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels looked fiercely on him and said:\n\u201cStranger, thou hast not spoken well; thou art like a man presumptuous.\nSo true it is that the gods do not give every gracious gift to all,\nneither shapeliness, nor wisdom, nor skilled speech. For one man is\nfeebler than another in presence, yet the god crowns his words with\nbeauty, and men behold him and rejoice, and his speech runs surely on\nhis way with a sweet modesty, and he shines forth among the gathering\nof his people, and as he passes through the town men gaze on him as a\ngod. Another again is like the deathless gods for beauty, but his words\nhave no crown of grace about them; even as thou art in comeliness\npre-eminent, nor could a god himself fashion thee for the better, but\nin wit thou art a weakling. Yea, thou hast stirred my spirit in my\nbreast by speaking thus amiss. I am not all unversed in sports, as thy\nwords go, but methinks I was among the foremost while as yet I trusted\nin my youth and my hands, but now am I holden in misery and pains: for\nI have endured much in passing through the wars of men and the grievous\nwaves of the sea. Yet even so, for all my affliction, I will essay the\ngames, for thy word hath bitten to the quick, and thou hast roused me\nwith thy saying.\u201d\n\nHe spake, and clad even as he was in his mantle leaped to his feet, and\ncaught up a weight larger than the rest, a huge weight heavier far than\nthose wherewith the Phaeacians contended in casting. With one whirl he\nsent it from his stout hand, and the stone flew hurtling: and the\nPhaeacians, of the long oars, those mariners renowned, crouched to\nearth beneath the rushing of the stone. Beyond all the marks it flew,\nso lightly it sped from his hand, and Athene in the fashion of a man\nmarked the place, and spake and hailed him:\n\n\u201cYea, even a blind man, stranger, might discern that token if he groped\nfor it, for it is in no wise lost among the throng of the others, but\nis far the first; for this bout then take heart: not one of the\nPhaeacians shall attain thereunto or overpass it.\u201d\n\nSo spake she; and the steadfast goodly Odysseus rejoiced and was glad,\nfor that he saw a true friend in the lists. Then with a lighter heart\nhe spake amid the Phaeacians:\n\n\u201cNow reach ye this throw, young men, if ye may; and soon, methinks,\nwill I cast another after it, as far or yet further. And whomsoever of\nthe rest his heart and spirit stir thereto, hither let him come and try\nthe issue with me, in boxing or in wrestling or even in the foot race,\nI care not which, for ye have greatly angered me: let any of all the\nPhaeacians come save Laodamas alone, for he is mine host: who would\nstrive with one that entreated him kindly? Witless and worthless is the\nman, whoso challengeth his host that receiveth him in a strange land,\nhe doth but maim his own estate. But for the rest, I refuse none and\nhold none lightly, but I fain would know and prove them face to face.\nFor I am no weakling in all sports, even in the feats of men. I know\nwell how to handle the polished bow, and ever the first would I be to\nshoot and smite my man in the press of foes, even though many of my\ncompany stood by, and were aiming at the enemy. Alone Philoctetes in\nthe Trojan land surpassed me with the bow in our Achaean archery. But I\navow myself far more excellent than all besides, of the mortals that\nare now upon the earth and live by bread. Yet with the men of old time\nI would not match me, neither with Heracles nor with Eurytus of\nOechalia, who contended even with the deathless gods for the prize of\narchery. Wherefore the great Eurytus perished all too soon, nor did old\nage come on him in his halls, for Apollo slew him in his wrath, seeing\nthat he challenged him to shoot a match. And with the spear I can throw\nfurther than any other man can shoot an arrow. Only I doubt that in the\nfoot race some of the Phaeacians may outstrip me, for I have been\nshamefully broken in many waters, seeing that there was no continual\nsustenance on board; wherefore my knees are loosened.\u201d\n\nSo spake he and all kept silence; and Alcinous alone answered him,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cStranger, forasmuch as these thy words are not ill-taken in our\ngathering, but thou wouldest fain show forth the valour which keeps\nthee company, being angry that yonder man stood by thee in the lists,\nand taunted thee, in such sort as no mortal would speak lightly of\nthine excellence, who had knowledge of sound words; nay now, mark my\nspeech; so shalt thou have somewhat to tell another hero, when with thy\nwife and children thou suppest in thy halls, and recallest our prowess,\nwhat deeds Zeus bestoweth even upon us from our fathers\u2019 days even\nuntil now. For we are no perfect boxers, nor wrestlers, but speedy\nrunners, and the best of seamen; and dear to us ever is the banquet,\nand the harp, and the dance, and changes of raiment, and the warm bath,\nand love, and sleep. Lo, now arise, ye dancers of the Phaeacians, the\nbest in the land, and make sport, that so the stranger may tell his\nfriends, when he returneth home, how far we surpass all men besides in\nseamanship, and speed of foot, and in the dance and song. And let one\ngo quickly, and fetch for Demodocus the loud lyre which is lying\nsomewhere in our halls.\u201d\n\nSo spake Alcinous the godlike, and the henchman rose to bear the hollow\nlyre from the king\u2019s palace. Then stood up nine chosen men in all, the\njudges of the people, who were wont to order all things in the lists\naright. So they levelled the place for the dance, and made a fair ring\nand a wide. And the henchman drew near bearing the loud lyre to\nDemodocus, who gat him into the midst, and round him stood boys in\ntheir first bloom, skilled in the dance, and they smote the good floor\nwith their feet. And Odysseus gazed at the twinklings of the feet, and\nmarvelled in spirit.\n\nNow as the minstrel touched the lyre, he lifted up his voice in sweet\nsong, and he sang of the love of Ares and Aphrodite, of the fair crown,\nhow at the first they lay together in the house of Hephaestus privily;\nand Ares gave her many gifts, and dishonoured the marriage bed of the\nlord Hephaestus. And anon there came to him one to report the thing,\neven Helios, that had seen them at their pastime. Now when Hephaestus\nheard the bitter tidings, he went his way to the forge, devising evil\nin the deep of his heart, and set the great anvil on the stithy, and\nwrought fetters that none might snap or loosen, that the lovers might\nthere unmoveably remain. Now when he had forged the crafty net in his\nanger against Ares, he went on his way to the chamber where his\nmarriage bed was set out, and strewed his snares all about the posts of\nthe bed, and many too were hung aloft from the main beam, subtle as\nspiders\u2019 webs, so that none might see them, even of the blessed gods:\nso cunningly were they forged. Now after he had done winding the snare\nabout the bed, he made as though he would go to Lemnos, that stablished\ncastle, and this was far the dearest of all lands in his sight. But\nAres of the golden rein kept no blind watch, what time he saw\nHephaestus, the famed craftsman, depart afar. So he went on his way to\nthe house of renowned Hephaestus, eager for the love of crowned\nCytherea. Now she was but newly come from her sire, the mighty Cronion,\nand as it chanced had sat her down; and Ares entered the house, and\nclasped her hand, and spake, and hailed her:\n\n\u201cCome, my beloved, let us to bed, and take our pleasure of love, for\nHephaestus is no longer among his own people; methinks he is already\ngone to Lemnos, to the Sintians, men of savage speech.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and a glad thing it seemed to her to lie with him. So they\ntwain went to the couch, and laid them to sleep, and around them clung\nthe cunning bonds of skilled Hephaestus, so that they could not move\nnor raise a limb. Then at the last they knew it, when there was no way\nto flee. Now the famous god of the strong arms drew near to them,\nhaving turned him back ere he reached the land of Lemnos. For Helios\nhad kept watch, and told him all. So heavy at heart he went his way to\nhis house, and stood at the entering in of the gate, and wild rage gat\nhold of him, and he cried terribly, and shouted to all the gods:\n\n\u201cFather Zeus, and ye other blessed gods, that live for ever, come\nhither, that ye may see a mirthful thing and a cruel, for that\nAphrodite, daughter of Zeus, ever dishonours me by reason of my\nlameness, and sets her heart on Ares the destroyer, because he is fair\nand straight of limb, but as for me, feeble was I born. Howbeit, there\nis none to blame but my father and mother,\u2014would they had never\nbegotten me! But now shall ye see where these have gone up into my bed,\nand sleep together in love; and I am troubled at the sight. Yet,\nmethinks, they will not care to lie thus even for a little while\nlonger, despite their great love. Soon will they have no desire to\nsleep together, but the snare and the bond shall hold them, till her\nsire give back to me the gifts of wooing, one and all, those that I\nbestowed upon him for the hand of his shameless girl; for that his\ndaughter is fair, but without discretion.\u201d\n\nSo spake he; and lo, the gods gathered together to the house of the\nbrazen floor. Poseidon came, the girdler of the earth, and Hermes came,\nthe bringer of luck, and prince Apollo came, the archer. But the lady\ngoddesses abode each within her house for shame. So the gods, the\ngivers of good things, stood in the porch: and laughter unquenchable\narose among the blessed gods, as they beheld the sleight of cunning\nHephaestus. And thus would one speak, looking to his neighbour:\n\n\u201cIll deed, ill speed! The slow catcheth the swift! Lo, how Hephaestus,\nslow as he is, hath overtaken Ares, albeit he is the swiftest of the\ngods that hold Olympus, by his craft hath he taken him despite his\nlameness; wherefore surely Ares oweth the fine of the adulterer.\u201d Thus\nthey spake one to the other. But the lord Apollo, son of Zeus, spake to\nHermes:\n\n\u201cHermes, son of Zeus, messenger and giver of good things, wouldst thou\nbe fain, aye, pressed by strong bonds though it might be, to lie on the\ncouch by golden Aphrodite?\u201d\n\nThen the messenger, the slayer of Argos, answered him: \u201cI would that\nthis might be, Apollo, my prince of archery! So might thrice as many\nbonds innumerable encompass me about, and all ye gods be looking on and\nall the goddesses, yet would I lie by golden Aphrodite.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and laughter rose among the deathless gods. Howbeit,\nPoseidon laughed not, but was instant with Hephaestus, the renowned\nartificer, to loose the bonds of Ares: and he uttered his voice, and\nspake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cLoose him, I pray thee, and I promise even as thou biddest me, that he\nshall himself pay all fair forfeit in the presence of the deathless\ngods.\u201d\n\nThen the famous god of the strong arms answered him: \u201cRequire not this\nof me, Poseidon, girdler of the earth. Evil are evil folk\u2019s pledges to\nhold. How could I keep thee bound among the deathless gods, if Ares\nwere to depart, avoiding the debt and the bond?\u201d\n\nThen Poseidon answered him, shaker of the earth: \u201cHephaestus, even if\nAres avoid the debt and flee away, I myself will pay thee all.\u201d\n\nThen the famous god of the strong arms answered him: \u201cIt may not be\nthat I should say thee nay, neither is it meet.\u201d\n\nTherewith the mighty Hephaestus loosed the bonds, and the twain, when\nthey were freed from that strong bond, sprang up straightway, and\ndeparted, he to Thrace, but laughter-loving Aphrodite went to Paphos of\nCyprus, where is her precinct and fragrant altar. There the Graces\nbathed and anointed her with oil imperishable, such as is laid upon the\neverlasting gods. And they clad her in lovely raiment, a wonder to see.\n\nThis was the song the famous minstrel sang; and Odysseus listened and\nwas glad at heart, and likewise did the Phaeacians, of the long oars,\nthose mariners renowned.\n\nThen Alcinous bade Halius and Laodamas dance alone, for none ever\ncontended with them. So when they had taken in their hands the goodly\nball of purple hue, that cunning Polybus had wrought for them, the one\nwould bend backwards, and throw it towards the shadowy clouds; and the\nother would leap upward from the earth, and catch it lightly in his\nturn, before his feet touched the ground. Now after they had made trial\nof throwing the ball straight up, the twain set to dance upon the\nbounteous earth, tossing the ball from hand to hand, and the other\nyouths stood by the lists and beat time, and a great din uprose.\n\nThen it was that goodly Odysseus spake unto Alcinous: \u201cMy lord\nAlcinous, most notable among all the people, thou didst boast thy\ndancers to be the best in the world, and lo, thy words are fulfilled; I\nwonder as I look on them.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and the mighty king Alcinous rejoiced and spake at once\namong the Phaeacians, masters of the oar:\n\n\u201cHearken ye, captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, this stranger\nseems to me a wise man enough. Come then, let us give him a stranger\u2019s\ngift, as is meet. Behold, there are twelve glorious princes who rule\namong this people and bear sway, and I myself am the thirteenth. Now\neach man among you bring a fresh robe and a doublet, and a talent of\nfine gold, and let us speedily carry all these gifts together, that the\nstranger may take them in his hands, and go to supper with a glad\nheart. As for Euryalus, let him yield amends to the man himself, with\nsoft speech and with a gift, for his was no gentle saying.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and they all assented thereto, and would have it so. And\neach one sent forth his henchman to fetch his gift, and Euryalus\nanswered the king and spake, saying:\n\n\u201cMy lord Alcinous, most notable among all the people, I will make\natonement to thy guest according to thy word. I will give him a hanger\nall of bronze, with a silver hilt thereto, and a sheath of fresh-sawn\nivory covers it about, and it shall be to him a thing of price.\u201d\n\nTherewith he puts into his hands the hanger dight with silver, and\nuttering his voice spake to him winged words: \u201cHail, stranger and\nfather; and if aught grievous hath been spoken, may the storm-winds\nsoon snatch and bear it away. But may the gods grant thee to see thy\nwife and to come to thine own country, for all too long has thou\nendured affliction away from thy friends.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cThou too, my\nfriend, all hail; and may the gods vouchsafe thee happiness, and mayst\nthou never miss this sword which thou hast given me, thou that with\nsoft speech hast yielded me amends.\u201d\n\nHe spake and hung about his shoulders the silver-studded sword. And the\nsun sank, and the noble gifts were brought him. Then the proud henchmen\nbare them to the palace of Alcinous, and the sons of noble Alcinous\ntook the fair gifts, and set them by their reverend mother. And the\nmighty king Alcinous led the way, and they came in and sat them down on\nthe high seats. And the mighty Alcinous spake unto Arete:\n\n\u201cBring me hither, my lady, a choice coffer, the best thou hast, and\nthyself place therein a fresh robe and a doublet, and heat for our\nguest a cauldron on the fire, and warm water, that after the bath the\nstranger may see all the gifts duly arrayed which the noble Phaeacians\nbare hither, and that he may have joy in the feast, and in hearing the\nsong of the minstrelsy. Also I will give him a beautiful golden chalice\nof mine own, that he may be mindful of me all the days of his life when\nhe poureth the drink-offering to Zeus and to the other gods.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Arete bade her handmaids to set a great cauldron on\nthe fire with what speed they might. And they set the cauldron for the\nfilling of the bath on the blazing fire, and poured water therein, and\ntook faggots and kindled them beneath. So the fire began to circle\nround the belly of the cauldron, and the water waxed hot. Meanwhile\nArete brought forth for her guest the beautiful coffer from the\ntreasure chamber, and bestowed fair gifts therein, raiment and gold,\nwhich the Phaeacians gave him. And with her own hands she placed\ntherein a robe and goodly doublet, and uttering her voice spake to him\nwinged words:\n\n\u201cDo thou now look to the lid, and quickly tie the knot, lest any man\nspoil thy goods by the way, when presently thou fallest on sweet sleep\ntravelling in thy black ship.\u201d\n\nNow when the steadfast goodly Odysseus heard this saying, forthwith he\nfixed on the lid, and quickly tied the curious knot, which the lady\nCirce on a time had taught him. Then straightway the housewife bade him\ngo to the bath and bathe him; and he saw the warm water and was glad,\nfor he was not wont to be so cared for, from the day that he left the\nhouse of fair-tressed Calypso, but all that while he had comfort\ncontinually as a god.\n\nNow after the maids had bathed him and anointed him with olive oil, and\nhad cast a fair mantle and a doublet upon him, he stept forth from the\nbath, and went to be with the chiefs at their wine. And Nausicaa,\ndowered with beauty by the gods, stood by the pillar of the\nwell-builded roof, and marvelled at Odysseus, beholding him before her\neyes, and she uttered her voice and spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cFarewell, stranger, and even in thine own country bethink thee of me\nupon a time, for that to me first thou owest the ransom of life.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cNausicaa, daughter\nof great-hearted Alcinous, yea, may Zeus, the thunderer, the lord of\nHere, grant me to reach my home and see the day of my returning; so\nwould I, even there, do thee worship as to a god, all my days for\nevermore, for thou, lady, hast given me my life.\u201d\n\nHe spake and sat him in the high seat by king Alcinous. And now they\nwere serving out the portions and mixing the wine. Then the henchmen\ndrew nigh leading the sweet minstrel, Demodocus, that was had in honour\nof the people. So he set him in the midst of the feasters, and made him\nlean against a tall column. Then to the henchman spake Odysseus of many\ncounsels, for he had cut off a portion of the chine of a white-toothed\nboar, whereon yet more was left, with rich fat on either side:\n\n\u201cLo, henchman, take this mess, and hand it to Demodocus, that he may\neat, and I will bid him hail, despite my sorrow. For minstrels from all\nmen on earth get their meed of honour and worship; inasmuch as the Muse\nteacheth them the paths of song, and loveth the tribe of minstrels.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and the henchman bare the mess, and set it upon the\nknees of the lord Demodocus, and he took it, and was glad at heart.\nThen they stretched forth their hands upon the good cheer set before\nthem. Now after they had put from them the desire of meat and drink,\nthen Odysseus of many counsels spake to Demodocus, saying:\n\n\u201cDemodocus, I praise thee far above all mortal men, whether it be the\nMuse, the daughter of Zeus, that taught thee, or even Apollo, for right\nduly dost thou chant the faring of the Achaeans, even all that they\nwrought and suffered, and all their travail, as if, methinks, thou\nhadst been present, or heard the tale from another. Come now, change\nthy strain, and sing of the fashioning of the horse of wood, which\nEpeius made by the aid of Athene, even the guileful thing, that goodly\nOdysseus led up into the citadel, when he had laden it with the men who\nwasted Ilios. If thou wilt indeed rehearse me this aright, so will I be\nthy witness among all men, how the god of his grace hath given thee the\ngift of wondrous song.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and the minstrel, being stirred by the god, began and\nshowed forth his minstrelsy. He took up the tale where it tells how the\nArgives of the one part set fire to their huts, and went aboard their\ndecked ships and sailed away, while those others, the fellowship of\nrenowned Odysseus, were now seated in the assembly-place of the\nTrojans, all hidden in the horse, for the Trojans themselves had\ndragged him to the citadel. So the horse stood there, while seated all\naround him the people spake many things confusedly and three ways their\ncounsel looked; either to cleave the hollow timber with the pitiless\nspear, or to drag it to the brow of the hill, and hurl it from the\nrocks, or to leave it as a mighty offering to appease the gods. And on\nthis wise it was to be at the last. For the doom was on them to perish\nwhen their city should have closed upon the great horse of wood,\nwherein sat all the bravest of the Argives, bearing to the Trojans\ndeath and destiny. And he sang how the sons of the Achaeans poured\nforth from the horse, and left the hollow lair, and sacked the burg.\nAnd he sang how and where each man wasted the town, and of Odysseus,\nhow he went like Ares to the house of Deiphobus with godlike Menelaus.\nIt was there, he said, that Odysseus adventured the most grievous\nbattle, and in the end prevailed, by grace of great-hearted Athene.\n\nThis was the song that the famous minstrel sang. But the heart of\nOdysseus melted, and the tear wet his cheeks beneath the eyelids. And\nas a woman throws herself wailing about her dear lord, who hath fallen\nbefore his city and the host, warding from his town and his children\nthe pitiless day; and she beholds him dying and drawing difficult\nbreath, and embracing his body wails aloud, while the foemen behind\nsmite her with spears on back and shoulders and lead her up into\nbondage, to bear labour and trouble, and with the most pitiful grief\nher cheeks are wasted; even so pitifully fell the tears beneath the\nbrows of Odysseus. Now none of all the company marked him weeping; but\nAlcinous alone noted it, and was ware thereof, as he sat nigh him and\nheard him groaning heavily. And presently he spake among the\nPhaeacians, masters of the oar:\n\n\u201cHearken, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, and now let\nDemodocus hold his hand from the loud lyre, for this song of his is\nnowise pleasing alike to all. From the time that we began to sup, and\nthat the divine minstrel was moved to sing, ever since hath yonder\nstranger never ceased from woeful lamentation: sore grief, methinks,\nhath encompassed his heart. Nay, but let the minstrel cease, that we\nmay all alike make merry, hosts and guest, since it is far meeter so.\nFor all these things are ready for the sake of the honourable stranger,\neven the convoy and the loving gifts which we give him out of our love.\nIn a brother\u2019s place stand the stranger and the suppliant, to him whose\nwits have even a little range, wherefore do thou too hide not now with\ncrafty purpose aught whereof I ask thee; it were more meet for thee to\ntell it out. Say, what is the name whereby they called thee at home,\neven thy father and thy mother, and others thy townsmen and the\ndwellers round about? For there is none of all mankind nameless,\nneither the mean man nor yet the noble, from the first hour of his\nbirth, but parents bestow a name on every man so soon as he is born.\nTell me too of thy land, thy township, and thy city, that our ships may\nconceive of their course to bring thee thither. For the Phaeacians have\nno pilots nor any rudders after the manner of other ships, but their\nbarques themselves understand the thoughts and intents of men; they\nknow the cities and fat fields of every people, and most swiftly they\ntraverse the gulf of the salt sea, shrouded in mist and cloud, and\nnever do they go in fear of wreck or ruin. Howbeit I heard upon a time\nthis word thus spoken by my father Nausithous, who was wont to say that\nPoseidon was jealous of us for that we give safe escort to all men. He\nsaid that the god would some day smite a well-wrought ship of the\nPhaeacians as she came home from a convoy over the misty deep, and\nwould overshadow our city with a great mountain. Thus that ancient one\nwould speak, and thus the god may bring it about, or leave it undone,\naccording to the good pleasure of his will. But come now, declare me\nthis and plainly tell it all; whither wast thou borne wandering, and to\nwhat shores of men thou camest; tell me of the people and of their\nfair-lying cities, of those whoso are hard and wild and unjust, and of\nthose likewise who are hospitable and of a god-fearing mind. Declare,\ntoo, wherefore thou dost weep and mourn in spirit at the tale of the\nfaring of the Argive Danaans and the lay of Ilios. All this the gods\nhave fashioned, and have woven the skein of death for men, that there\nmight be a song in the ears even of the folk of aftertime. Hadst thou\neven a kinsman by marriage that fell before Ilios, a true man, a\ndaughter\u2019s husband or wife\u2019s father, such as are nearest us after those\nof our own stock and blood? Or else, may be, some loving friend, a good\nman and true; for a friend with an understanding heart is no whit worse\nthan a brother.\u201d\n\n\n\nBOOK IX.\n\n\nOdysseus relates, first, what befell him amongst the Cicones at\nIsmarus; secondly, amongst the Lotophagi; thirdly, how he was used by\nthe Cyclops Polyphemus.\n\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cKing Alcinous, most\nnotable of all the people, verily it is a good thing to list to a\nminstrel such as this one, like to the gods in voice. Nay, as for me, I\nsay that there is no more gracious or perfect delight than when a whole\npeople makes merry, and the men sit orderly at feast in the halls and\nlisten to the singer, and the tables by them are laden with bread and\nflesh, and a wine-bearer drawing the wine serves it round and pours it\ninto the cups. This seems to me well-nigh the fairest thing in the\nworld. But now thy heart was inclined to ask of my grievous troubles,\nthat I may mourn for more exceeding sorrow. What then shall I tell of\nfirst, what last, for the gods of heaven have given me woes in plenty?\nNow, first, will I tell my name, that ye too may know it, and that I,\nwhen I have escaped the pitiless day, may yet be your host, though my\nhome is in a far country. I am ODYSSEUS, SON OF LAERTES, who am in\nmen\u2019s minds for all manner of wiles, and my fame reaches unto heaven.\nAnd I dwell in clear-seen Ithaca, wherein is a mountain Neriton, with\ntrembling forest leaves, standing manifest to view, and many islands\nlie around, very near one to the other, Dulichium and Same, and wooded\nZacynthus. Now Ithaca lies low, furthest up the sea-line toward the\ndarkness, but those others face the dawning and the sun: a rugged isle,\nbut a good nurse of noble youths; and for myself I can see nought\nbeside sweeter than a man\u2019s own country. Verily Calypso, the fair\ngoddess, would fain have kept me with her in her hollow caves, longing\nto have me for her lord; and likewise too, guileful Circe of Aia, would\nhave stayed me in her halls, longing to have me for her lord. But never\ndid they prevail upon my heart within my breast. So surely is there\nnought sweeter than a man\u2019s own country and his parents, even though he\ndwell far off in a rich home, in a strange land, away from them that\nbegat him. But come, let me tell thee too of the troubles of my\njourneying, which Zeus laid on me as I came from Troy.\n\n\u201cThe wind that bare me from Ilios brought me nigh to the Cicones, even\nto Ismarus, whereupon I sacked their city and slew the people. And from\nout the city we took their wives and much substance, and divided them\namongst us, that none through me might go lacking his proper share.\nHowbeit, thereafter I commanded that we should flee with a swift foot,\nbut my men in their great folly hearkened not. There was much wine\nstill a drinking, and still they slew many flocks of sheep by the\nseashore and kine with trailing feet and shambling gait. Meanwhile the\nCicones went and raised a cry to other Cicones their neighbours,\ndwelling inland, who were more in number than they and braver withal:\nskilled they were to fight with men from chariots, and when need was on\nfoot. So they gathered in the early morning as thick as leaves and\nflowers that spring in their season\u2014yea and in that hour an evil doom\nof Zeus stood by us, ill-fated men, that so we might be sore afflicted.\nThey set their battle in array by the swift ships, and the hosts cast\nat one another with their bronze-shod spears. So long as it was morn\nand the sacred day waxed stronger, so long we abode their assault and\nbeat them off, albeit they outnumbered us. But when the sun was wending\nto the time of the loosing of cattle, then at last the Cicones drave in\nthe Achaeans and overcame them, and six of my goodly-greaved company\nperished from each ship: but the remnant of us escaped death and\ndestiny.\n\n\u201cThence we sailed onward stricken at heart, yet glad as men saved from\ndeath, albeit we had lost our dear companions. Nor did my curved ships\nmove onward ere we had called thrice on each of those our hapless\nfellows, who died at the hands of the Cicones on the plain. Now Zeus,\ngatherer of the clouds, aroused the North Wind against our ships with a\nterrible tempest, and covered land and sea alike with clouds, and down\nsped night from heaven. Thus the ships were driven headlong, and their\nsails were torn to shreds by the might of the wind. So we lowered the\nsails into the hold, in fear of death, but rowed the ships landward\napace. There for two nights and two days we lay continually, consuming\nour hearts with weariness and sorrow. But when the fair-tressed Dawn\nhad at last brought the full light of the third day, we set up the\nmasts and hoisted the white sails and sat us down, while the wind and\nthe helmsman guided the ships. And now I should have come to mine own\ncountry all unhurt, but the wave and the stream of the sea and the\nNorth Wind swept me from my course as I was doubling Malea, and drave\nme wandering past Cythera.\n\n\u201cThence for nine whole days was I borne by ruinous winds over the\nteeming deep; but on the tenth day we set foot on the land of the\nlotus-eaters, who eat a flowery food. So we stepped ashore and drew\nwater, and straightway my company took their midday meal by the swift\nships. Now when we had tasted meat and drink I sent forth certain of my\ncompany to go and make search what manner of men they were who here\nlive upon the earth by bread, and I chose out two of my fellows, and\nsent a third with them as herald. Then straightway they went and mixed\nwith the men of the lotus-eaters, and so it was that the lotus-eaters\ndevised not death for our fellows, but gave them of the lotus to taste.\nNow whosoever of them did eat the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus, had\nno more wish to bring tidings nor to come back, but there he chose to\nabide with the lotus-eating men, ever feeding on the lotus, and\nforgetful of his homeward way. Therefore I led them back to the ships\nweeping, and sore against their will, and dragged them beneath the\nbenches, and bound them in the hollow barques. But I commanded the rest\nof my well-loved company to make speed and go on board the swift ships,\nlest haply any should eat of the lotus and be forgetful of returning.\nRight soon they embarked, and sat upon the benches, and sitting orderly\nthey smote the grey sea water with their oars.\n\n\u201cThence we sailed onward stricken at heart. And we came to the land of\nthe Cycl\u00f4pes, a froward and a lawless folk, who trusting to the\ndeathless gods plant not aught with their hands, neither plough: but,\nbehold, all these things spring for them in plenty, unsown and\nuntilled, wheat, and barley, and vines, which bear great clusters of\nthe juice of the grape, and the rain of Zeus gives them increase. These\nhave neither gatherings for council nor oracles of law, but they dwell\nin hollow caves on the crests of the high hills, and each one utters\nthe law to his children and his wives, and they reck not one of\nanother.\n\n\u201cNow there is a waste isle stretching without the harbour of the land\nof the Cycl\u00f4pes, neither nigh at hand nor yet afar off, a woodland\nisle, wherein are wild goats unnumbered, for no path of men scares\nthem, nor do hunters resort thither who suffer hardships in the wood,\nas they range the mountain crests. Moreover it is possessed neither by\nflocks nor by ploughed lands, but the soil lies unsown evermore and\nuntilled, desolate of men, and feeds the bleating goats. For the\nCycl\u00f4pes have by them no ships with vermilion cheek, not yet are there\nshipwrights in the island, who might fashion decked barques, which\nshould accomplish all their desire, voyaging to the towns of men (as\nofttimes men cross the sea to one another in ships), who might likewise\nhave made of their isle a goodly settlement. Yea, it is in no wise a\nsorry land, but would bear all things in their season; for therein are\nsoft water meadows by the shores of the grey salt sea, and there the\nvines know no decay, and the land is level to plough; thence might they\nreap a crop exceeding deep in due season, for verily there is fatness\nbeneath the soil. Also there is a fair haven, where is no need of\nmoorings, either to cast anchor or to fasten hawsers, but men may run\nthe ship on the beach, and tarry until such time as the sailors are\nminded to be gone, and favourable breezes blow. Now at the head of the\nharbour is a well of bright water issuing from a cave, and round it are\npoplars growing. Thither we sailed, and some god guided us through the\nnight, for it was dark and there was no light to see, a mist lying deep\nabout the ships, nor did the moon show her light from heaven, but was\nshut in with clouds. No man then beheld that island, neither saw we the\nlong waves rolling to the beach, till we had run our decked ships\nashore. And when our ships were beached, we took down all their sails,\nand ourselves too stept forth upon the strand of the sea, and there we\nfell into sound sleep and waited for the bright Dawn.\n\n\u201cSo soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, in wonder at the\nisland we roamed over the length thereof: and the Nymphs, the daughters\nof Zeus, lord of the aegis, started the wild goats of the hills, that\nmy company might have wherewith to sup. Anon we took to us our curved\nbows from out the ships and long spears, and arrayed in three bands we\nbegan shooting at the goats; and the god soon gave us game in plenty.\nNow twelve ships bare me company, and to each ship fell nine goats for\na portion, but for me alone they set ten apart.\n\n\u201cThus we sat there the livelong day until the going down of the sun,\nfeasting on abundant flesh and on sweet wine. For the red wine was not\nyet spent from out the ships, but somewhat was yet therein, for we had\neach one drawn off large store thereof in jars, when we took the sacred\ncitadel of the Cicones. And we looked across to the land of the\nCycl\u00f4pes, who dwell nigh, and to the smoke, and to the voice of the\nmen, and of the sheep and of the goats. And when the sun had sunk and\ndarkness had come on, then we laid us to rest upon the sea-beach. So\nsoon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, then I called a\ngathering of my men, and spake among them all:\n\n\u201c\u2018Abide here all the rest of you, my dear companions; but I will go\nwith mine own ship and my ship\u2019s company, and make proof of these men,\nwhat manner of folk they are, whether froward, and wild, and unjust, or\nhospitable and of god-fearing mind.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and I climbed the ship\u2019s side, and bade my company\nthemselves to mount, and to loose the hawsers. So they soon embarked\nand sat upon the benches, and sitting orderly smote the grey sea water\nwith their oars. Now when we had come to the land that lies hard by, we\nsaw a cave on the border near to the sea, lofty and roofed over with\nlaurels, and there many flocks of sheep and goats were used to rest.\nAnd about it a high outer court was built with stones, deep bedded, and\nwith tall pines and oaks with their high crown of leaves. And a man was\nwont to sleep therein, of monstrous size, who shepherded his flocks\nalone and afar, and was not conversant with others, but dwelt apart in\nlawlessness of mind. Yea, for he was a monstrous thing and fashioned\nmarvellously, nor was he like to any man that lives by bread, but like\na wooded peak of the towering hills, which stands out apart and alone\nfrom others.\n\n\u201cThen I commanded the rest of my well-loved company to tarry there by\nthe ship, and to guard the ship, but I chose out twelve men, the best\nof my company, and sallied forth. Now I had with me a goat-skin of the\ndark wine and sweet which Maron, son of Euanthes, had given me, the\npriest of Apollo, the god that watched over Ismarus. And he gave it,\nfor that we had protected him with his wife and child reverently; for\nhe dwelt in a thick grove of Phoebus Apollo. And he made me splendid\ngifts; he gave me seven talents of gold well wrought, and he gave me a\nmixing bowl of pure silver, and furthermore wine which he drew off in\ntwelve jars in all, sweet wine unmingled, a draught divine; nor did any\nof his servants or of his handmaids in the house know thereof, but\nhimself and his dear wife and one housedame only. And as often as they\ndrank that red wine honey sweet, he would fill one cup and pour it into\ntwenty measures of water, and a marvellous sweet smell went up from the\nmixing bowl: then truly it was no pleasure to refrain.\n\n\u201cWith this wine I filled a great skin, and bare it with me, and corn\ntoo I put in a wallet, for my lordly spirit straightway had a boding\nthat a man would come to me, a strange man, clothed in mighty strength,\none that knew not judgment and justice.[16]\n\n [16] Literally, knowing neither dooms, nor ordinances of law.\n\n\n\u201cSoon we came to the cave, but we found him not within; he was\nshepherding his fat flocks in the pastures. So we went into the cave,\nand gazed on all that was therein. The baskets were well laden with\ncheeses, and the folds were thronged with lambs and kids; each kind was\npenned by itself, the firstlings apart, and the summer lambs apart,\napart too the younglings of the flock. Now all the vessels swam with\nwhey, the milk-pails and the bowls, the well-wrought vessels whereinto\nhe milked. My company then spake and besought me first of all to take\nof the cheeses and to return, and afterwards to make haste and drive\noff the kids and lambs to the swift ships from out the pens, and to\nsail over the salt sea water. Howbeit I hearkened not (and far better\nwould it have been), but waited to see the giant himself, and whether\nhe would give me gifts as a stranger\u2019s due. Yet was not his coming to\nbe with joy to my company.\n\n\u201cThen we kindled a fire, and made burnt-offering, and ourselves\nlikewise took of the cheeses, and did eat, and sat waiting for him\nwithin till he came back, shepherding his flocks. And he bore a\ngrievous weight of dry wood, against supper time. This log he cast down\nwith a din inside the cave, and in fear we fled to the secret place of\nthe rock. As for him, he drave his fat flocks into the wide cavern,\neven all that he was wont to milk; but the males both of the sheep and\nof the goats he left without in the deep yard. Thereafter he lifted a\nhuge doorstone and weighty, and set it in the mouth of the cave, such\nan one as two and twenty good four-wheeled wains could not raise from\nthe ground, so mighty a sheer rock did he set against the doorway. Then\nhe sat down and milked the ewes and bleating goats, all orderly, and\nbeneath each ewe he placed her young. And anon he curdled one half of\nthe white milk, and massed it together, and stored it in\nwicker-baskets, and the other half he let stand in pails, that he might\nhave it to take and drink against supper time. Now when he had done all\nhis work busily, then he kindled the fire anew, and espied us, and made\nquestion:\n\n\u201c\u2018Strangers, who are ye? Whence sail ye over the wet ways? On some\ntrading enterprise or at adventure do ye rove, even as sea-robbers over\nthe brine, for at hazard of their own lives they wander, bringing bale\nto alien men.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake he, but as for us our heart within us was broken for terror\nof the deep voice and his own monstrous shape; yet despite all I\nanswered and spake unto him, saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Lo, we are Achaeans, driven wandering from Troy, by all manner of\nwinds over the great gulf of the sea; seeking our homes we fare, but\nanother path have we come, by other ways: even such, methinks, was the\nwill and the counsel of Zeus. And we avow us to be the men of\nAgamemnon, son of Atreus, whose fame is even now the mightiest under\nheaven, so great a city did he sack, and destroyed many people; but as\nfor us we have lighted here, and come to these thy knees, if perchance\nthou wilt give us a stranger\u2019s gift, or make any present, as is the due\nof strangers. Nay, lord, have regard to the gods, for we are thy\nsuppliants; and Zeus is the avenger of suppliants and sojourners, Zeus,\nthe god of the stranger, who fareth in the company of reverend\nstrangers.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and anon he answered out of his pitiless heart: \u2018Thou art\nwitless, my stranger, or thou hast come from afar, who biddest me\neither to fear or shun the gods. For the Cycl\u00f4pes pay no heed to Zeus,\nlord of the aegis, nor to the blessed gods, for verily we are better\nmen than they. Nor would I, to shun the enmity of Zeus, spare either\nthee or thy company, unless my spirit bade me. But tell me where thou\ndidst stay thy well-wrought ship on thy coming? Was it perchance at the\nfar end of the island, or hard by, that I may know?\u2019\n\n\u201cSo he spake tempting me, but he cheated me not, who knew full much,\nand I answered him again with words of guile:\n\n\u201c\u2018As for my ship, Poseidon, the shaker of the earth, brake it to\npieces, for he cast it upon the rocks at the border of your country,\nand brought it nigh the headland, and a wind bare it thither from the\nsea. But I with these my men escaped from utter doom.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and out of his pitiless heart he answered me not a word,\nbut sprang up, and laid his hands upon my fellows, and clutching two\ntogether dashed them, as they had been whelps, to the earth, and the\nbrain flowed forth upon the ground, and the earth was wet. Then cut he\nthem up piecemeal, and made ready his supper. So he ate even as a\nmountain-bred lion, and ceased not, devouring entrails and flesh and\nbones with their marrow. And we wept and raised our hands to Zeus,\nbeholding the cruel deeds; and we were at our wits\u2019 end. And after the\nCyclops had filled his huge maw with human flesh and the milk he drank\nthereafter, he lay within the cave, stretched out among his sheep.\n\n\u201cSo I took counsel in my great heart, whether I should draw near, and\npluck my sharp sword from my thigh, and stab him in the breast, where\nthe midriff holds the liver, feeling for the place with my hand. But my\nsecond thought withheld me, for so should we too have perished even\nthere with utter doom. For we should not have prevailed to roll away\nwith our hands from the lofty door the heavy stone which he set there.\nSo for that time we made moan, awaiting the bright Dawn.\n\n\u201cNow when early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, again he kindled\nthe fire and milked his goodly flocks all orderly, and beneath each ewe\nset her lamb. Anon when he had done all his work busily, again he\nseized yet other two men and made ready his mid-day meal. And after the\nmeal, lightly he moved away the great door-stone, and drave his fat\nflocks forth from the cave, and afterwards he set it in his place\nagain, as one might set the lid on a quiver. Then with a loud whoop,\nthe Cyclops turned his fat flocks towards the hills; but I was left\ndevising evil in the deep of my heart, if in any wise I might avenge\nme, and Athene grant me renown.\n\n\u201cAnd this was the counsel that showed best in my sight. There lay by a\nsheep-fold a great club of the Cyclops, a club of olive wood, yet\ngreen, which he had cut to carry with him when it should be seasoned.\nNow when we saw it we likened it in size to the mast of a black ship of\ntwenty oars, a wide merchant vessel that traverses the great sea gulf,\nso huge it was to view in bulk and length. I stood thereby and cut off\nfrom it a portion as it were a fathom\u2019s length, and set it by my\nfellows, and bade them fine it down, and they made it even, while I\nstood by and sharpened it to a point, and straightway I took it and\nhardened it in the bright fire. Then I laid it well away, and hid it\nbeneath the dung, which was scattered in great heaps in the depths of\nthe cave. And I bade my company cast lots among them, which of them\nshould risk the adventure with me, and lift the bar and turn it about\nin his eye, when sweet sleep came upon him. And the lot fell upon those\nfour whom I myself would have been fain to choose, and I appointed\nmyself to be the fifth among them. In the evening he came shepherding\nhis flocks of goodly fleece, and presently he drave his fat flocks into\nthe cave each and all, nor left he any without in the deep court-yard,\nwhether through some foreboding, or perchance that the god so bade him\ndo. Thereafter he lifted the huge door-stone and set it in the mouth of\nthe cave, and sitting down he milked the ewes and bleating goats, all\norderly, and beneath each ewe he placed her young. Now when he had done\nall his work busily, again he seized yet other two and made ready his\nsupper. Then I stood by the Cyclops and spake to him, holding in my\nhands an ivy bowl of the dark wine:\n\n\u201c\u2018Cyclops, take and drink wine after thy feast of man\u2019s meat, that thou\nmayest know what manner of drink this was that our ship held. And lo, I\nwas bringing it thee as a drink offering, if haply thou mayest take\npity and send me on my way home, but thy mad rage is past all\nsufferance. O hard of heart, how may another of the many men there be\ncome ever to thee again, seeing that thy deeds have been lawless?\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and he took the cup and drank it off, and found great\ndelight in drinking the sweet draught, and asked me for it yet a second\ntime:\n\n\u201c\u2018Give it me again of thy grace, and tell me thy name straightway, that\nI may give thee a stranger\u2019s gift, wherein thou mayest be glad. Yea for\nthe earth, the grain-giver, bears for the Cycl\u00f4pes the mighty clusters\nof the juice of the grape, and the rain of Zeus gives them increase,\nbut this is a rill of very nectar and ambrosia.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo he spake, and again I handed him the dark wine. Thrice I bare and\ngave it him, and thrice in his folly he drank it to the lees. Now when\nthe wine had got about the wits of the Cyclops, then did I speak to him\nwith soft words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Cyclops, thou askest me my renowned name, and I will declare it unto\nthee, and do thou grant me a stranger\u2019s gift, as thou didst promise.\nNoman is my name, and Noman they call me, my father and my mother and\nall my fellows.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and straightway he answered me out of his pitiless heart:\n\n\u201c\u2018Noman will I eat last in the number of his fellows, and the others\nbefore him: that shall be thy gift.\u2019\n\n\u201cTherewith he sank backwards and fell with face upturned, and there he\nlay with his great neck bent round, and sleep, that conquers all men,\novercame him. And the wine and the fragments of men\u2019s flesh issued\nforth from his mouth, and he vomited, being heavy with wine. Then I\nthrust in that stake under the deep ashes, until it should grow hot,\nand I spake to my companions comfortable words, lest any should hang\nback from me in fear. But when that bar of olive wood was just about to\ncatch fire in the flame, green though it was, and began to glow\nterribly, even then I came nigh, and drew it from the coals, and my\nfellows gathered about me, and some god breathed great courage into us.\nFor their part they seized the bar of olive wood, that was sharpened at\nthe point, and thrust it into his eye, while I from my place aloft\nturned it about, as when a man bores a ship\u2019s beam with a drill while\nhis fellows below spin it with a strap, which they hold at either end,\nand the auger runs round continually. Even so did we seize the\nfiery-pointed brand and whirled it round in his eye, and the blood\nflowed about the heated bar. And the breath of the flame singed his\neyelids and brows all about, as the ball of the eye burnt away, and the\nroots thereof crackled in the flame. And as when a smith dips an axe or\nadze in chill water with a great hissing, when he would temper it\u2014for\nhereby anon comes the strength of iron\u2014even so did his eye hiss round\nthe stake of olive. And he raised a great and terrible cry, that the\nrock rang around, and we fled away in fear, while he plucked forth from\nhis eye the brand bedabbled in much blood. Then maddened with pain he\ncast it from him with his hands, and called with a loud voice on the\nCycl\u00f4pes, who dwelt about him in the caves along the windy heights. And\nthey heard the cry and flocked together from every side, and gathering\nround the cave asked him what ailed him:\n\n\u201c\u2018What hath so distressed thee, Polyphemus, that thou criest thus aloud\nthrough the immortal night, and makest us sleepless? Surely no mortal\ndriveth off thy flocks against thy will: surely none slayeth thyself by\nforce or craft?\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd the strong Polyphemus spake to them again from out the cave: \u2018My\nfriends, Noman is slaying me by guile, nor at all by force.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd they answered and spake winged words: \u2018If then no man is violently\nhandling thee in thy solitude, it can in no wise be that thou shouldest\nescape the sickness sent by mighty Zeus. Nay, pray thou to thy father,\nthe lord Poseidon.\u2019\n\n\u201cOn this wise they spake and departed; and my heart within me laughed\nto see how my name and cunning counsel had beguiled them. But the\nCyclops, groaning and travailing in pain, groped with his hands, and\nlifted away the stone from the door of the cave, and himself sat in the\nentry, with arms outstretched to catch, if he might, any one that was\ngoing forth with his sheep, so witless, methinks, did he hope to find\nme. But I advised me how all might be for the very best, if perchance I\nmight find a way of escape from death for my companions and myself, and\nI wove all manner of craft and counsel, as a man will for his life,\nseeing that great mischief was nigh. And this was the counsel that\nshowed best in my sight. The rams of the flock were well nurtured and\nthick of fleece, great and goodly, with wool dark as the violet.\nQuietly I lashed them together with twisted withies, whereon the\nCyclops slept, that lawless monster. Three together I took: now the\nmiddle one of the three would bear each a man, but the other twain went\non either side, saving my fellows. Thus every three sheep bare their\nman. But as for me I laid hold of the back of a young ram who was far\nthe best and the goodliest of all the flock, and curled beneath his\nshaggy belly there I lay, and so clung face upward, grasping the\nwondrous fleece with a steadfast heart. So for that time making moan we\nawaited the bright Dawn.\n\n\u201cSo soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, then did the\nrams of the flock hasten forth to pasture, but the ewes bleated\nunmilked about the pens, for their udders were swollen to bursting.\nThen their lord, sore stricken with pain, felt along the backs of all\nthe sheep as they stood up before him, and guessed not in his folly how\nthat my men were bound beneath the breasts of his thick-fleeced flocks.\nLast of all the sheep came forth the ram, cumbered with his wool, and\nthe weight of me and my cunning. And the strong Polyphemus laid his\nhands on him and spake to him saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Dear ram, wherefore, I pray thee, art thou the last of all the flocks\nto go forth from the cave, who of old wast not wont to lag behind the\nsheep, but wert ever the foremost to pluck the tender blossom of the\npasture, faring with long strides, and wert still the first to come to\nthe streams of the rivers, and first did long to return to the\nhomestead in the evening? But now art thou the very last. Surely thou\nart sorrowing for the eye of thy lord, which an evil man blinded, with\nhis accursed fellows, when he had subdued my wits with wine, even\nNoman, whom I say hath not yet escaped destruction. Ah, if thou couldst\nfeel as I, and be endued with speech, to tell me where he shifts about\nto shun my wrath; then should he be smitten, and his brains be dashed\nagainst the floor here and there about the cave, and my heart be\nlightened of the sorrows which Noman, nothing worth, hath brought me!\u2019\n\n\u201cTherewith he sent the ram forth from him, and when we had gone but a\nlittle way from the cave and from the yard, first I loosed myself from\nunder the ram and then I set my fellows free. And swiftly we drave on\nthose stiff-shanked sheep, so rich in fat, and often turned to look\nabout, till we came to the ship. And a glad sight to our fellows were\nwe that had fled from death, but the others they would have bemoaned\nwith tears; howbeit I suffered it not, but with frowning brows forbade\neach man to weep. Rather I bade them to cast on board the many sheep\nwith goodly fleece, and to sail over the salt sea water. So they\nembarked forthwith, and sate upon the benches, and sitting orderly\nsmote the grey sea water with their oars. But when I had not gone so\nfar, but that a man\u2019s shout might be heard, then I spoke unto the\nCyclops taunting him:\n\n\u201c\u2018Cyclops, so thou wert not to eat the company of a weakling by main\nmight in thy hollow cave! Thine evil deeds were very sure to find thee\nout, thou cruel man, who hadst no shame to eat thy guests within thy\ngates, wherefore Zeus hath requited thee, and the other gods.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and he was mightily angered at heart, and he brake off the\npeak of a great hill and threw it at us, and it fell in front of the\ndark-prowed ship.[17] And the sea heaved beneath the fall of the rock,\nand the backward flow of the wave bare the ship quickly to the dry\nland, with the wash from the deep sea, and drave it to the shore. Then\nI caught up a long pole in my hands, and thrust the ship from off the\nland, and roused my company, and with a motion of the head bade them\ndash in with their oars, that so we might escape our evil plight. So\nthey bent to their oars and rowed on. But when we had now made twice\nthe distance over the brine, I would fain have spoken to the Cyclops,\nbut my company stayed me on every side with soft words, saying:\n\n [17] We have omitted line 483, as required by the sense. It is\n introduced here from line 540.\n\n\n\u201c\u2018Foolhardy that thou art, why wouldst thou rouse a wild man to wrath,\nwho even now hath cast so mighty a throw towards the deep and brought\nour ship back to land, yea and we thought that we had perished[18] even\nthere? If he had heard any of us utter sound or speech he would have\ncrushed our heads and our ship timbers with a cast of a rugged stone,\nso mightily he hurls.\u2019\n\n [18] Neither in this passage nor in B ii. 171 nor in B xx. 121 do we\n think that the aorist infinitive after a verb of _saying_ can bear a\n future sense. The aorist infinitive after \u1f10\u03bb\u03c0\u03c9\u03c1\u03ae (ii. 280, vii. 76) is\n hardly an argument in its favour; the infinitive there is in fact a\n noun in the genitive case.\n\n\n\u201cSo spake they, but they prevailed not on my lordly spirit, and I\nanswered him again from out an angry heart:\n\n\u201c\u2018Cyclops, if any one of mortal men shall ask thee of the unsightly\nblinding of thine eye, say that it was Odysseus that blinded it, the\nwaster of cities, son of Laertes, whose dwelling is in Ithaca.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and with a moan he answered me, saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Lo now, in very truth the ancient oracles have come upon me. There\nlived here a soothsayer, a noble man and a mighty, Telemus, son of\nEurymus, who surpassed all men in soothsaying, and waxed old as a seer\namong the Cycl\u00f4pes. He told me that all these things should come to\npass in the aftertime, even that I should lose my eyesight at the hand\nof Odysseus. But I ever looked for some tall and goodly man to come\nhither, clad in great might, but behold now one that is a dwarf, a man\nof no worth and a weakling, hath blinded me of my eye after subduing me\nwith wine. Nay come hither, Odysseus, that I may set by thee a\nstranger\u2019s cheer, and speed thy parting hence, that so the Earth-shaker\nmay vouchsafe it thee, for his son am I, and he avows him for my\nfather. And he himself will heal me, if it be his will; and none other\nof the blessed gods or of mortal men.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so he spake, but I answered him, and said: \u2018Would god that I were\nas sure to rob thee of soul and life, and send thee within the house of\nHades, as I am that not even the Earth-shaker will heal thine eye!\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and then he prayed to the lord Poseidon stretching forth\nhis hands to the starry heaven: \u2018Hear me, Poseidon, girdler of the\nearth, god of the dark hair, if indeed I be thine, and thou avowest\nthee my sire,\u2014grant that he may never come to his home, even Odysseus,\nwaster of cities, the son of Laertes, whose dwelling is in Ithaca; yet\nif he is ordained to see his friends and come unto his well-builded\nhouse, and his own country, late may he come in evil case, with the\nloss of all his company, in the ship of strangers, and find sorrows in\nhis house.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo he spake in prayer, and the god of the dark locks heard him. And\nonce again he lifted a stone, far greater than the first, and with one\nswing he hurled it, and he put forth a measureless strength, and cast\nit but a little space behind the dark-prowed ship, and all but struck\nthe end of the rudder. And the sea heaved beneath the fall of the rock,\nbut the wave bare on the ship and drave it to the further shore.\n\n\u201cBut when he had now reached that island, where all our other decked\nships abode together, and our company were gathered sorrowing,\nexpecting us evermore, on our coming thither we ran our ship ashore\nupon the sand, and ourselves too stept forth upon the sea beach. Next\nwe took forth the sheep of the Cyclops from out the hollow ship, and\ndivided them, that none through me might go lacking his proper share.\nBut the ram for me alone my goodly-greaved company chose out, in the\ndividing of the sheep, and on the shore I offered him up to Zeus, even\nto the son of Cronos, who dwells in the dark clouds, and is lord of\nall, and I burnt the slices of the thighs. But he heeded not the\nsacrifice, but was devising how my decked ships and my dear company\nmight perish utterly. Thus for that time we sat the livelong day, until\nthe going down of the sun, feasting on abundant flesh and sweet wine.\nAnd when the sun had sunk and darkness had come on, then we laid us to\nrest upon the sea beach. So soon as early Dawn shone forth, the\nrosy-fingered, I called to my company, and commanded them that they\nshould themselves climb the ship and loose the hawsers. So they soon\nembarked and sat upon the benches, and sitting orderly smote the grey\nsea water with their oars.\n\n\u201cThence we sailed onward stricken at heart, yet glad as men saved from\ndeath, albeit we had lost our dear companions.\n\nimage\n\n\n\n\nBOOK X.\n\n\nOdysseus, his entertainment by Aeolus, of whom he received a fair wind\nfor the present, and all the rest of the winds tied up in a bag; which\nhis men untying, flew out, and carried him back to Aeolus, who refused\nto receive him. His adventure at Laestrygonia with Antiphates, where of\ntwelve ships he lost eleven, men and all. How he went thence to the\nIsle of Aea, where half of his men were turned by Circe into swine, and\nhow he went himself, and by the help of Hermes recovered them and\nstayed with Circe a year.\n\n\n\u201cThen we came to the isle Aeolian, where dwelt Aeolus, son of Hippotas,\ndear too the deathless gods, in a floating island, and all about it is\na wall of bronze unbroken, and the cliff runs up sheer from the sea.\nHis twelve children to abide there in his halls, six daughters and six\nlusty sons; and, behold, he gave his daughters to his sons to wife. And\nthey feast evermore by their dear father and their kind mother, and\ndainties innumerable lie ready to their hands. And the house is full of\nthe savour of feasting, and the noise thereof rings round, yea in the\ncourtyard, by day, and in the night they sleep each one by his chaste\nwife in coverlets and on jointed bedsteads. So then we came to their\ncity and their goodly dwelling, and the king entreated me kindly for a\nwhole month, and sought out each thing, Ilios and the ships of the\nArgives, and the return of the Achaeans. So I told him all the tale in\norder duly. But when I in turn took the word and asked of my journey,\nand bade him send me on my way, he too denied me not, but furnished an\nescort. He gave me a wallet, made of the hide of an ox of nine seasons\nold, which he let flay, and therein he bound the ways of all the noisy\nwinds; for him the son of Cronos made keeper of the winds, either to\nlull or to rouse what blasts he will. And he made it fast in the hold\nof the ship with a shining silver thong, that not the faintest breath\nmight escape. Then he sent forth the blast of the West Wind to blow for\nme, to bear our ships and ourselves upon our way; but this he was never\nto bring to pass, for we were undone through our own heedlessness.\n\n\u201cFor nine whole days we sailed by night and day continually, and now on\nthe tenth day my native land came in sight, and already we were so near\nthat we beheld the folk tending the beacon fires. Then over me there\ncame sweet slumber in my weariness, for all the time I was holding the\nsheet, nor gave it to any of my company, that so we might come quicker\nto our own country. Meanwhile my company held converse together, and\nsaid that I was bringing home for myself gold and silver, gifts from\nAeolus the high-hearted son of Hippotas. And thus would they speak\nlooking each man to his neighbour:\n\n\u201c\u2018Lo now, how beloved he is and highly esteemed among all men, to the\ncity and land of whomsoever he may come. Many are the goodly treasures\nhe taketh with him out of the spoil from Troy, while we who have\nfulfilled like journeying with him return homeward bringing with us but\nempty hands. And now Aeolus hath given unto him these things freely in\nhis love. Nay come, let us quickly see what they are, even what wealth\nof gold and silver is in the wallet.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo they spake, and the evil counsel of my company prevailed. They\nloosed the wallet, and all the winds brake forth. And the violent blast\nseized my men, and bare them towards the high seas weeping, away from\ntheir own country; but as for me, I awoke and communed with my great\nheart, whether I should cast myself from the ship and perish in the\ndeep, or endure in silence and abide yet among the living. Howbeit I\nhardened my heart to endure, and muffling my head I lay still in the\nship. But the vessels were driven by the evil storm-wind back to the\nisle Aeolian, and my company made moan.\n\n\u201cThere we stepped ashore and drew water, and my company presently took\ntheir midday meal by the swift ships. Now when we had tasted bread and\nwine, I took with me a herald and one of my company, and went to the\nfamous dwelling of Aeolus: and I found him feasting with his wife and\nchildren. So we went in and sat by the pillars of the door on the\nthreshold, and they all marvelled and asked us:\n\n\u201c\u2018How hast thou come hither, Odysseus? What evil god assailed thee?\nSurely we sent thee on thy way with all diligence, that thou mightest\nget thee to thine own country and thy home, and whithersoever thou\nwouldest.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so they said, but I spake among them heavy at heart: \u2018My evil\ncompany hath been my bane, and sleep thereto remorseless. Come, my\nfriends, do ye heal the harm, for yours is the power.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, beseeching them in soft words, but they held their peace.\nAnd the father answered, saying: \u2018Get thee forth from the island\nstraightway, thou that art the most reprobate of living men. Far be it\nfrom me to help or to further that man whom the blessed gods abhor! Get\nthee forth, for lo, thy coming marks thee hated by the deathless gods.\u2019\n\n\u201cTherewith he sent me forth from the house making heavy moan. Thence we\nsailed onwards stricken at heart. And the spirit of the men was spent\nbeneath the grievous rowing by reason of our vain endeavour, for there\nwas no more any sign of a wafting wind. So for the space of six days we\nsailed by night and day continually, and on the seventh we came to the\nsteep stronghold of Lamos, Telepylos of the Laestrygons, where herdsman\nhails herdsman as he drives in his flock, and the other who drives\nforth answers the call. There might a sleepless man have earned a\ndouble wage, the one as neat-herd, the other shepherding white flocks:\nso near are the outgoings of the night and of the day. Thither when he\nhad come to the fair haven, whereabout on both sides goes one steep\ncliff unbroken and jutting headlands over against each other stretch\nforth at the mouth of the harbour, and strait is the entrance;\nthereinto all the others steered their curved ships. Now the vessels\nwere bound within the hollow harbour each hard by other, for no wave\never swelled within it, great or small, but there was a bright calm all\naround. But I alone moored my dark ship without the harbour, at the\nuttermost point thereof, and made fast the hawser to a rock. And I went\nup a craggy hill, a place of out-look, and stood thereon: thence there\nwas no sign of the labour of men or oxen, only we saw the smoke curling\nupward from the land. Then I sent forth certain of my company to go and\nsearch out what manner of men they were who here live upon the earth by\nbread, choosing out two of my company and sending a third with them as\nherald. Now when they had gone ashore, they went along a level road\nwhereby wains were wont to draw down wood from the high hills to the\ntown. And without the town they fell in with a damsel drawing water,\nthe noble daughter of Laestrygonian Antiphates. She had come down to\nthe clear-flowing spring Artacia, for thence it was custom to draw\nwater to the town. So they stood by her and spake unto her, and asked\nwho was king of that land, and who they were he ruled over. Then at\nonce she showed them the high-roofed hall of her father. Now when they\nhad entered the renowned house, they found his wife therein: she was\nhuge of bulk as a mountain peak and was loathly in their sight.\nStraightway she called the renowned Antiphates, her lord, from the\nassembly-place, and he contrived a pitiful destruction for my men.\nForthwith he clutched up one of my company and made ready his midday\nmeal, but the other twain sprang up and came in flight to the ships.\nThen he raised the war cry through the town, and the valiant\nLaestrygons at the sound thereof, flocked together from every side, a\nhost past number, not like men but like the Giants. They cast at us\nfrom the cliffs with great rocks, each of them a man\u2019s burden, and anon\nthere arose from the fleet an evil din of men dying and ships shattered\nwithal. And like folk spearing fishes they bare home their hideous\nmeal. While as yet they were slaying my friends within the deep\nharbour, I drew my sharp sword from my thigh, and with it cut the\nhawsers of my dark-prowed ship. Quickly then I called to my company,\nand bade them dash in with the oars, that we might clean escape this\nevil plight. And all with one accord they tossed the sea water with the\noar-blade, in dread of death, and to my delight my barque flew forth to\nthe high seas away from the beetling rocks, but those other ships were\nlost there, one and all.\n\n\u201cThence we sailed onward stricken at heart, yet glad as men saved from\ndeath, albeit we had lost our dear companions. And we came to the isle\nAeaean, where dwelt Circe of the braided tresses, an awful goddess of\nmortal speech, own sister to the wizard Aeetes. Both were begotten of\nHelios, who gives light to all men, and their mother was Perse,\ndaughter of Oceanus. There on the shore we put in with our ship into\nthe sheltering haven silently, and some god was our guide. Then we\nstept ashore, and for two days and two nights lay there, consuming our\nown hearts for weariness and pain. But when now the fair-tressed Dawn\nhad brought the full light of the third day, then did I seize my spear\nand my sharp sword, and quickly departing from the ship I went up unto\na place of wide prospect, if haply I might see any sign of the labour\nof men and hear the sound of their speech. So I went up a craggy hill,\na place of out-look, and I saw the smoke rising from the broad-wayed\nearth in the halls of Circe, through the thick coppice and the\nwoodland. Then I mused in my mind and heart whether I should go and\nmake discovery, for that I had seen the smoke and flame. And as I\nthought thereon this seemed to me the better counsel, to go first to\nthe swift ship and to the sea-banks, and give my company their midday\nmeal, and then send them to make search. But as I came and drew nigh to\nthe curved ship, some god even then took pity on me in my loneliness,\nand sent a tall antlered stag across my very path. He was coming down\nfrom his pasture in the woodland to the river to drink, for verily the\nmight of the sun was sore upon him. And as he came up from out of the\nstream, I smote him on the spine in the middle of the back, and the\nbrazen shaft went clean through him, and with a moan he fell in the\ndust, and his life passed from him. Then I set my foot on him and drew\nforth the brazen shaft from the wound, and laid it hard by upon the\nground and let it lie. Next I broke withies and willow twigs, and wove\nme a rope a fathom in length, well twisted from end to end, and bound\ntogether the feet of the huge beast, and went to the black ship bearing\nhim across my neck, and leaning on a spear, for it was in no wise\npossible to carry him on my shoulder with the one hand, for he was a\nmighty quarry. And I threw him down before the ship and roused my\ncompany with soft words, standing by each man in turn:\n\n\u201c\u2018Friends, for all our sorrows we shall not yet a while go down to the\nhouse of Hades, ere the coming of the day of destiny; go to then, while\nas yet there is meat and drink in the swift ship, let us take thought\nthereof, that we be not famished for hunger.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so I spake, and they speedily hearkened to my words. They\nunmuffled their heads, and there on the shore of the unharvested sea\ngazed at the stag, for he was a mighty quarry. But after they had\ndelighted their eyes with the sight of him, they washed their hands and\ngot ready the glorious feast. So for that time we sat the livelong day\ntill the going down of the sun, feasting on abundant flesh and sweet\nwine. But when the sun sank and darkness had come on, then we laid us\nto rest upon the sea beach. So soon as early Dawn shone forth, the\nrosy-fingered, I called a gathering of my men and spake in the ears of\nthem all:\n\n\u201c\u2018Hear my works, my fellows, despite your evil case. My friends, lo,\nnow we know not where is the place of darkness or of dawning, nor where\nthe Sun, that gives light to men, goes beneath the earth, nor where he\nrises; therefore let us advise us speedily if any counsel yet may be:\nas for me, I deem there is none. For I went up a craggy hill, a place\nof out-look, and saw the island crowned about with the circle of the\nendless sea, the isle itself lying low; and in the midst thereof mine\neyes beheld the smoke through the thick coppice and the woodland.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so I spake, but their spirit within them was broken, as they\nremembered the deeds of Antiphates the Laestrygonian, and all the evil\nviolence of the haughty Cyclops, the man-eater. So they wept aloud\nshedding big tears. Howbeit no avail came of their weeping.\n\n\u201cThen I numbered my goodly-greaved company in two bands, and appointed\na leader for each, and I myself took the command of the one part, and\ngodlike Eurylochus of the other. And anon we shook the lots in a\nbrazen-fitted helmet, and out leapt the lot of proud Eurylochus. So he\nwent on his way, and with him two and twenty of my fellowship all\nweeping; and we were left behind making lament. In the forest glades\nthey found the halls of Circe builded, of polished stone, in a place\nwith wide prospect. And all around the palace mountain-bred wolves and\nlions were roaming, whom she herself had bewitched with evil drugs that\nshe gave them. Yet the beasts did not set on my men, but lo, they\nramped about them and fawned on them, wagging their long tails. And as\nwhen dogs fawn about their lord when he comes from the feast, for he\nalways brings them the fragments that soothe their mood, even so the\nstrong-clawed wolves and the lions fawned around them; but they were\naffrighted when they saw the strange and terrible creatures. So they\nstood at the outer gate of the fair-tressed goddess, and within they\nheard Circe singing in a sweet voice, as she fared to and fro before\nthe great web imperishable, such as is the handiwork of goddesses, fine\nof woof and full of grace and splendour. Then Polites, a leader of men,\nthe dearest to me and the trustiest of all my company, first spake to\nthem:\n\n\u201c\u2018Friends, forasmuch as there is one within that fares to and fro\nbefore a mighty web singing a sweet song, so that all the floor of the\nhall makes echo, a goddess she is or a woman; come quickly and cry\naloud to her.\u2019\n\n\u201cHe spake the word and they cried aloud and called to her. And\nstraightway she came forth and opened the shining doors and bade them\nin, and all went with her in their heedlessness. But Eurylochus tarried\nbehind, for he guessed that there was some treason. So she led them in\nand set them upon chairs and high seats, and made them a mess of cheese\nand barley-meal and yellow honey with Pramnian wine, and mixed harmful\ndrugs with the food to make them utterly forget their own country. Now\nwhen she had given them the cup and they had drunk it off, presently\nshe smote them with a wand, and in the styes of the swine she penned\nthem. So they had the head and voice, the bristles and the shape of\nswine, but their mind abode even as of old. Thus were they penned there\nweeping, and Circe flung them acorns and mast and fruit of the cornel\ntree to eat, whereon wallowing swine do always batten.\n\n\u201cNow Eurylochus came back to the swift black ship to bring tidings of\nhis fellows, and of their unseemly doom. Not a word could he utter, for\nall his desire, so deeply smitten was he to the heart with grief, and\nhis eyes were filled with tears and his soul was fain of lamentation.\nBut when we all had pressed him with our questions in amazement, even\nthen he told the fate of the remnant of our company.\n\n\u201c\u2018We went, as thou didst command, through the coppice, noble Odysseus:\nwe found within the forest glades the fair halls, builded of polished\nstone, in a place with wide prospect. And there was one that fared\nbefore a mighty web and sang a clear song, a goddess she was or a\nwoman, and they cried aloud and called to her. And straightway she came\nforth, and opened the shining doors and bade them in, and they all went\nwith her in their heedlessness. But I tarried behind, for I guessed\nthat there was some treason. Then they vanished away one and all, nor\ndid any of them appear again, though I sat long time watching.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake he, whereon I cast about my shoulder my silver-studded sword,\na great blade of bronze, and slung my bow about me and bade him lead me\nagain by the way that he came. But he caught me with both hands, and by\nmy knees he besought me, and bewailing him spake to me winged words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Lead me not thither against my will, oh fosterling of Zeus, but leave\nme here! For well I know thou shalt thyself return no more, nor bring\nany one of all thy fellowship; nay, let us flee the swifter with those\nthat be here, for even yet may we escape the evil day.\u2019\n\n\u201cOn this wise he spake, but I answered him, saying: \u2018Eurylochus, abide\nfor thy part here in this place, eating and drinking by the black\nhollow ship: but I will go forth, for a strong constraint is laid on\nme.\u2019\n\n\u201cWith that I went up from the ship and the sea-shore. But lo, when in\nmy faring through the sacred glades I was now drawing near to the great\nhall of the enchantress Circe, then did Hermes, of the golden wand,\nmeet me as I approached the house, in the likeness of a young man with\nthe first down on his lip, the time when youth is most gracious. So he\nclasped my hand and spake and hailed me:\n\n\u201c\u2018Ah, hapless man, whither away again, all alone through the wolds,\nthou that knowest not this country? And thy company yonder in the hall\nof Circe are penned in the guise of swine, in their deep lairs abiding.\nIs it in hope to free them that thou art come hither? Nay, methinks,\nthou thyself shalt never return but remain there with the others. Come\nthen, I will redeem thee from thy distress, and bring deliverance. Lo,\ntake this herb of virtue, and go to the dwelling of Circe, that it may\nkeep from thy head the evil day. And I will tell thee all the magic\nsleight of Circe. She will mix thee a potion and cast drugs into the\nmess; but not even so shall she be able to enchant thee; so helpful is\nthis charmed herb that I shall give thee, and I will tell thee all.\nWhen it shall be that Circe smites thee with her long wand, even then\ndraw thou thy sharp sword from thy thigh, and spring on her, as one\neager to slay her. And she will shrink away and be instant with thee to\nlie with her. Thenceforth disdain not thou the bed of the goddess, that\nshe may deliver thy company and kindly entertain thee. But command her\nto swear a mighty oath by the blessed gods, that she will plan nought\nelse of mischief to thine own hurt, lest she make thee a dastard and\nunmanned, when she hath thee naked.\u2019\n\n\u201cTherewith the slayer of Argos gave me the plant that he had plucked\nfrom the ground, and he showed me the growth thereof. It was black at\nthe root, but the flower was like to milk. Moly the gods call it, but\nit is hard for mortal men to dig; howbeit with the gods all things are\npossible.\n\n\u201cThen Hermes departed toward high Olympus, up through the woodland\nisle, but as for me I held on my way to the house of Circe, and my\nheart was darkly troubled as I went. So I halted in the portals of the\nfair-tressed goddess; there I stood and called aloud and the goddess\nheard my voice, who presently came forth and opened the shining doors\nand bade me in, and I went with her heavy at heart. So she led me in\nand set me on a chair with studs of silver, a goodly carven chair, and\nbeneath was a footstool for the feet. And she made me a potion in a\ngolden cup, that I might drink, and she also put a charm therein, in\nthe evil counsel of her heart.\n\n\u201cNow when she had given it and I had drunk it off and was not\nbewitched, she smote me with her wand and spake and hailed me:\n\n\u201c\u2018Go thy way now to the stye, couch thee there with the rest of thy\ncompany.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, but I drew my sharp sword from my thigh and sprang upon\nCirce, as one eager to slay her. But with a great cry she slipped\nunder, and clasped my knees, and bewailing herself spake to me winged\nwords:\n\n\u201c\u2018Who art thou of the sons of men, and whence? Where is thy city? Where\nare they that begat thee? I marvel to see how thou hast drunk of this\ncharm, and wast nowise subdued. Nay, for there lives no man else that\nis proof against this charm, whoso hath drunk thereof, and once it hath\npassed his lips. But thou hast, methinks, a mind within thee that may\nnot be enchanted. Verily thou art Odysseus, ready at need, whom he of\nthe golden wand, the slayer of Argos, full often told me was to come\nhither, on his way from Troy with his swift black ship. Nay come, put\nthy sword into the sheath, and thereafter let us go up into my bed,\nthat meeting in love and sleep we may trust each the other.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, but I answered her, saying: \u2018Nay, Circe, how canst thou\nbid me be gentle to thee, who hast turned my company into swine within\nthy halls, and holding me here with a guileful heart requirest me to\npass within thy chamber and go up into thy bed, that so thou mayest\nmake me a dastard and unmanned when thou hast me naked? Nay, never will\nI consent to go up into thy bed, except thou wilt deign, goddess, to\nswear a mighty oath, that thou wilt plan nought else of mischief to\nmine own hurt.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and she straightway swore the oath not to harm me, as I\nbade her. But when she had sworn and had done that oath, then at last I\nwent up into the beautiful bed of Circe.\n\n\u201cNow all this while her handmaids busied them in the halls, four\nmaidens that are her serving women in the house. They are born of the\nwells and of the woods and of the holy rivers, that flow forward into\nthe salt sea. Of these one cast upon the chairs goodly coverlets of\npurple above, and spread a linen cloth thereunder. And lo, another drew\nup silver tables to the chairs, and thereon set for them golden\nbaskets. And a third mixed sweet honey-hearted wine in a silver bowl,\nand set out cups of gold. And a fourth bare water, and kindled a great\nfire beneath the mighty cauldron. So the water waxed warm; but when it\nboiled in the bright brazen vessel, she set me in a bath and bathed me\nwith water from out a great cauldron, pouring it over head and\nshoulders, when she had mixed it to a pleasant warmth, till from my\nlimbs she took away the consuming weariness. Now after she had bathed\nme and anointed me well with olive oil, and cast about me a fair mantle\nand a doublet, she led me into the halls and set me on a chair with\nstuds of silver, a goodly carven chair, and beneath was a footstool for\nthe feet. And a handmaid bare water for the hands in a goodly golden\newer, and poured it forth over a silver basin to wash withal; and to my\nside she drew a polished table, and a grave dame bare wheaten bread and\nset it by me, and laid on the board many dainties, giving freely of\nsuch things as she had by her. And she bade me eat, but my soul found\nno pleasure therein. I sat with other thoughts, and my heart had a\nboding of ill.\n\n\u201cNow when Circe saw that I sat thus, and that I put not forth my hands\nto the meat, and that I was mightily afflicted, she drew near to me and\nspake to me winged words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Wherefore thus, Odysseus, dost thou sit there like a speechless man,\nconsuming thine own soul, and dost not touch meat nor drink? Dost thou\nindeed deem there is some further guile? Nay, thou hast no cause to\nfear, for already I have sworn thee a strong oath not to harm thee.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, but I answered her, saying: \u2018Oh, Circe, what righteous\nman would have the heart to taste meat and drink ere he had redeemed\nhis company, and beheld them face to face? But if in good faith thou\nbiddest me eat and drink, then let them go free, that mine eyes may\nbehold my dear companions.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and Circe passed out through the hall with the wand in her\nhand, and opened the doors of the stye, and drave them forth in the\nshape of swine of nine seasons old. There they stood before her, and\nshe went through their midst, and anointed each one of them with\nanother charm. And lo, from their limbs the bristles dropped away,\nwherewith the venom had erewhile clothed them, that lady Circe gave\nthem. And they became men again, younger than before they were, and\ngoodlier far, and taller to behold. And they all knew me again and each\none took my hands, and wistful was the lament that sank into their\nsouls, and the roof around rang wondrously. And even the goddess\nherself was moved with compassion.\n\n\u201cThen standing nigh me the fair goddess spake unto me: \u2018Son of Laertes,\nof the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, depart now to thy swift\nship and the sea-banks. And first of all, draw ye up the ship ashore,\nand bestow the goods in the caves and all the gear. And thyself return\nagain, and bring with thee thy dear companions.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, and my lordly spirit consented thereto. So I went on my\nway to the swift ship and the sea-banks, and there I found my dear\ncompany on the swift ship lamenting piteously, shedding big tears. And\nas when calves of the homestead gather round the droves of kine that\nhave returned to the yard, when they have had their fill of pasture,\nand all with one accord frisk before them, and the folds may no more\ncontain them, but with a ceaseless lowing they skip about their dams,\nso flocked they all about me weeping, when their eyes beheld me. Yea,\nand to their spirit it was as though they had got to their dear\ncountry, and the very city of rugged Ithaca, where they were born and\nreared.\n\n\u201cThen making lament they spake to me winged words: \u2018O fosterling of\nZeus, we were none otherwise glad at thy returning, than if we had come\nto Ithaca, our own country. Nay come, of our other companions tell us\nthe tale of their ruin.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake they, but I answered them with soft words: \u2018Behold, let us\nfirst of all draw up the ship ashore, and bestow our goods in the caves\nand all our gear. And do ye bestir you, one and all, to go with me,\nthat ye may see your fellows in the sacred dwelling of Circe, eating\nand drinking, for they have continual store.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and at once they hearkened to my words, but Eurylochus\nalone would have holden all my companions, and uttering his voice he\nspake to them winged words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Wretched men that we are! whither are we going? Why are your hearts\nso set on sorrow that ye should go down to the hall of Circe, who will\nsurely change us all to swine, or wolves, or lions, to guard her great\nhouse perforce, according to the deeds that the Cyclops wrought, when\ncertain of our company went to his inmost fold, and with them went\nOdysseus, ever hardy, for through the blindness of his heart did they\ntoo perish?\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake he, but I mused in my heart whether to draw my long hanger\nfrom my stout thigh, and therewith smite off his head and bring it to\nthe dust, albeit he was very near of kin to me; but the men of my\ncompany stayed me on every side with soothing words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Prince of the seed of Zeus, as for this man, we will suffer him, if\nthou wilt have it so, to abide here by the ship and guard the ship; but\nas for us, be our guide to the sacred house of Circe.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo they spake and went up from the ship and the sea. Nay, nor yet was\nEurylochus left by the hollow ship, but he went with us, for he feared\nmy terrible rebuke.\n\n\u201cMeanwhile Circe bathed the rest of my company in her halls with all\ncare, and anointed them well with olive oil; and cast thick mantles and\ndoublets about them. And we found them all feasting nobly in the halls.\nAnd when they saw and knew each other face to face, they wept and\nmourned, and the house rang around. Then she stood near me, that fair\ngoddess, and spake saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Son of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, no\nmore now wake this plenteous weeping: myself I know of all the pains ye\nendured upon the teeming deep, and the great despite done you by\nunkindly men upon the land. Nay come, eat ye meat and drink wine, till\nyour spirit shall return to you again, as it was when first ye left\nyour own country of rugged Ithaca; but now are ye wasted and wanting\nheart, mindful evermore of your sore wandering, nor has your heart ever\nbeen merry, for very grievous hath been your trial.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, and our lordly spirit consented thereto. So there we sat\nday by day for the full circle of a year, feasting on abundant flesh\nand sweet wine. But when now a year had gone, and the seasons returned\nas the months waned, and the long days came in their course, then did\nmy dear company call me forth, and say:\n\n\u201c\u2018Good sir, now is it high time to mind thee of thy native land, if it\nis ordained that thou shalt be saved, and come to thy lofty house and\nthine own country.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake they and my lordly spirit consented thereto. So for that time\nwe sat the livelong day till the going down of the sun, feasting on\nabundant flesh and sweet wine. But when the sun sank and darkness came\non, they laid them to rest throughout the shadowy halls.\n\n\u201cBut when I had gone up into the fair bed of Circe, I besought her by\nher knees, and the goddess heard my speech, and uttering my voice I\nspake to her winged words: \u2018Circe, fulfil for me the promise which thou\nmadest me to send me on my homeward way. Now is my spirit eager to be\ngone, and the spirit of my company, that wear away my heart as they\nmourn around me, when haply thou art gone from us.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and the fair goddess answered me anon: \u2018Son of Laertes, of\nthe seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, tarry ye now no longer in\nmy house against your will; but first must ye perform another journey,\nand reach the dwelling of Hades and of dread Persephone to seek to the\nspirit of Theban Teiresias, the blind soothsayer, whose wits abide\nsteadfast. To him Persephone hath given judgment, even in death, that\nhe alone should have understanding; but the other souls sweep\nshadow-like around.\u2019\n\n\u201cThus spake she, but as for me, my heart was broken, and I wept as I\nsat upon the bed, and my soul had no more care to live and to see the\nsunlight. But when I had my fill of weeping and grovelling, then at the\nlast I answered and spake unto her saying: \u2018And who, Circe, will guide\nus on this way? for no man ever yet sailed to hell in a black ship.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and the fair goddess answered me anon: \u2018Son of Laertes, of\nthe seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, nay, trouble not thyself\nfor want of a guide, by thy ship abiding, but set up the mast and\nspread abroad the white sails and sit thee down; and the breeze of the\nNorth Wind will bear thy vessel on her way. But when thou hast now\nsailed in thy ship across the stream Oceanus, where is a waste shore\nand the groves of Persephone, even tall poplar trees and willows that\nshed their fruit before the season, there beach thy ship by deep\neddying Oceanus, but go thyself to the dank house of Hades. Thereby\ninto Acheron flows Pyriphlegethon, and Cocytus, a branch of the water\nof the Styx, and there is a rock, and the meeting of the two roaring\nwaters. So, hero, draw nigh thereto, as I command thee, and dig a\ntrench as it were a cubit in length and breadth, and about it pour a\ndrink-offering to all the dead, first with mead and thereafter with\nsweet wine, and for the third time with water, and sprinkle white meal\nthereon; and entreat with many prayers the strengthless heads of the\ndead, and promise that on thy return to Ithaca thou wilt offer in thy\nhalls a barren heifer, the best thou hast, and will fill the pyre with\ntreasure, and wilt sacrifice apart, to Teiresias alone, a black ram\nwithout spot, the fairest of your flock. But when thou hast with\nprayers made supplication to the lordly races of the dead, then offer\nup a ram and a black ewe, bending their heads towards Erebus and\nthyself turn thy back, with thy face set for the shore of the river.\nThen will many spirits come to thee of the dead that be departed.\nThereafter thou shalt call to thy company and command them to flay the\nsheep which even now lie slain by the pitiless sword, and to consume\nthem with fire, and to make prayer to the gods, to mighty Hades and to\ndread Persephone. And thyself draw the sharp sword from thy thigh and\nsit there, suffering not the strengthless heads of the dead to draw\nnigh to the blood, ere thou hast word of Teiresias. Then the seer will\ncome to thee quickly, leader of the people; he will surely declare to\nthee the way and the measure of thy path, and as touching thy\nreturning, how thou mayst go over the teeming deep.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, and anon came the golden throned Dawn. Then she put on\nme a mantle and a doublet for raiment, and the nymph clad herself in a\ngreat shining robe, light of woof and gracious, and about her waist she\ncast a fair golden girdle, and put a veil upon her head. But I passed\nthrough the halls and roused my men with smooth words, standing by each\none in turn:\n\n\u201c\u2018Sleep ye now no more nor breathe sweet slumber; but let us go on our\nway, for surely she hath shown me all, the lady Circe.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and their lordly soul consented thereto. Yet even thence I\nled not my company safe away. There was one, Elpenor, the youngest of\nus all, not very valiant in war neither steadfast in mind. He was lying\napart from the rest of my men on the housetop of Circe\u2019s sacred\ndwelling, very fain of the cool air, as one heavy with wine. Now when\nhe heard the noise of the voices and of the feet of my fellows as they\nmoved to and fro, he leaped up of a sudden and minded him not to\ndescend again by the way of the tall ladder, but fell right down from\nthe roof, and his neck was broken from the bones of the spine, and his\nspirit went down to the house of Hades.\n\n\u201cThen I spake among my men as they went on their way, saying: \u2018Ye deem\nnow, I see, that ye are going to your own dear country; but Circe hath\nshowed us another way, even to the dwelling of Hades and of dread\nPersephone, to seek to the spirit of Theban Teiresias.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so I spake, but their heart within them was broken, and they sat\nthem down even where they were, and made lament and tore their hair.\nHowbeit no help came of their weeping.\n\n\u201cBut as we were now wending sorrowful to the swift ship and the\nsea-banks, shedding big tears, Circe meanwhile had gone her ways and\nmade fast a ram and a black ewe by the dark ship, lightly passing us\nby: who may behold a god against his will, whether going to or fro?\u201d\n\n\n\nBOOK XI.\n\n\nOdysseus, his descent into hell, and discourses with the ghosts of the\ndeceased heroes.\n\n\n\u201cNow when we had gone down to the ship and to the sea, first of all we\ndrew the ship unto the fair salt water and placed the mast and sails in\nthe black ship, and took those sheep and put them therein, and\nourselves too climbed on board, sorrowing, and shedding big tears. And\nin the wake of our dark-prowed ship she sent a favouring wind that\nfilled the sails, a kindly escort,\u2014even Circe of the braided tresses, a\ndread goddess of human speech. And we set in order all the gear\nthroughout the ship and sat us down; and the wind and the helmsman\nguided our barque. And all day long her sails were stretched in her\nseafaring; and the sun sank and all the ways were darkened.\n\n\u201cShe came to the limits of the world, to the deep-flowing Oceanus.\nThere is the land and the city of the Cimmerians, shrouded in mist and\ncloud, and never does the shining sun look down on them with his rays,\nneither when he climbs up the starry heavens, nor when again he turns\nearthward from the firmament, but deadly night is outspread over\nmiserable mortals. Thither we came and ran the ship ashore and took out\nthe sheep; but for our part we held on our way along the stream of\nOceanus, till we came to the place which Circe had declared to us.\n\n\u201cThere Perimedes and Eurylochus held the victims, but I drew my sharp\nsword from my thigh, and dug a pit, as it were a cubit in length and\nbreadth, and about it poured a drink-offering to all the dead, first\nwith mead and thereafter with sweet wine, and for the third time with\nwater. And I sprinkled white meal thereon, and entreated with many\nprayers the strengthless heads of the dead, and promised that on my\nreturn to Ithaca I would offer in my halls a barren heifer, the best I\nhad, and fill the pyre with treasure, and apart unto Teiresias alone\nsacrifice a black ram without spot, the fairest of my flock. But when I\nhad besought the tribes of the dead with vows and prayers, I took the\nsheep and cut their throats over the trench, and the dark blood flowed\nforth, and lo, the spirits of the dead that be departed gathered them\nfrom out of Erebus. Brides and youths unwed, and old men of many and\nevil days, and tender maidens with grief yet fresh at heart; and many\nthere were, wounded with bronze-shod spears, men slain in fight with\ntheir bloody mail about them. And these many ghosts flocked together\nfrom every side about the trench with a wondrous cry, and pale fear gat\nhold on me. Then did I speak to my company and command them to flay the\nsheep that lay slain by the pitiless sword, and to consume them with\nfire, and to make prayer to the gods, to mighty Hades and to dread\nPersephone, and myself I drew the sharp sword from my thigh and sat\nthere, suffering not the strengthless heads of the dead to draw nigh to\nthe blood, ere I had word of Teiresias.\n\n\u201cAnd first came the soul of Elpenor, my companion, that had not yet\nbeen buried beneath the wide-wayed earth; for we left the corpse behind\nus in the hall of Circe, unwept and unburied, seeing that another task\nwas instant on us. At the sight of him I wept and had compassion on\nhim, and uttering my voice spake to him winged words: \u2018Elpenor, how\nhast thou come beneath the darkness and the shadow? Thou hast come\nfleeter on foot than I in my black ship.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and with a moan he answered me, saying: \u2018Son of Laertes,\nof the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, an evil doom of some god\nwas my bane and wine out of measure. When I laid me down on the\nhouse-top of Circe I minded me not to descend again by the way of the\ntall ladder, but fell right down from the roof, and my neck was broken\noff from the bones of the spine, and my spirit went down to the house\nof Hades. And now I pray thee in the name of those whom we left, who\nare no more with us, thy wife, and thy sire who cherished thee when as\nyet thou wert a little one, and Telemachus, whom thou didst leave in\nthy halls alone; forasmuch as I know that on thy way hence from out the\ndwelling of Hades, thou wilt stay thy well-wrought ship at the isle\nAeaean, even then, my lord, I charge thee to think on me. Leave me not\nunwept and unburied as thou goest hence, nor turn thy back upon me,\nlest haply I bring on thee the anger of the gods. Nay, burn me there\nwith mine armour, all that is mine, and pile me a barrow on the shore\nof the grey sea, the grave of a luckless man, that even men unborn may\nhear my story. Fulfil me this and plant upon the barrow mine oar,\nwherewith I rowed in the days of my life, while yet I was among my\nfellows.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so he spake, and I answered him saying: \u2018All this, luckless man,\nwill I perform for thee and do.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so we twain were sitting holding sad discourse, I on the one\nside, stretching forth my sword over the blood, while on the other side\nthe ghost of my friend told all his tale.\n\n\u201cAnon came up the soul of my mother dead, Anticleia, the daughter of\nAutolycus the great-hearted, whom I left alive when I departed for\nsacred Ilios. At the sight of her I wept, and was moved with\ncompassion, yet even so, for all my sore grief, I suffered her not to\ndraw nigh to the blood, ere I had word of Teiresias.\n\n\u201cAnon came the soul of Theban Teiresias, with a golden sceptre in his\nhand, and he knew me and spake unto me: \u2018Son of Laertes, of the seed of\nZeus, Odysseus of many devices, what seekest thou NOW, wretched man,\nwherefore hast thou left the sunlight and come hither to behold the\ndead and a land desolate of joy? Nay, hold off from the ditch and draw\nback thy sharp sword, that I may drink of the blood and tell thee\nsooth.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake he and I put up my silver-studded sword into the sheath, and\nwhen he had drunk the dark blood, even then did the noble seer speak\nunto me, saying: Thou art asking of thy sweet returning, great\nOdysseus, but that will the god make hard for thee; for methinks thou\nshalt not pass unheeded by the Shaker of the Earth, who hath laid up\nwrath in his heart against thee, for rage at the blinding of his dear\nson. Yet even so, through many troubles, ye may come home, if thou wilt\nrestrain thy spirit and the spirit of thy men so soon as thou shalt\nbring thy well-wrought ship nigh to the isle Thrinacia, fleeing the sea\nof violet blue, when ye find the herds of Helios grazing and his brave\nflocks, of Helios who overseeth all and overheareth all things. If thou\ndoest these no hurt, being heedful of thy return, so may ye yet reach\nIthaca, albeit in evil case. But if thou hurtest them, I foreshow ruin\nfor thy ship and for thy men, and even though thou shalt thyself\nescape, late shalt thou return in evil plight, with the loss of all thy\ncompany, on board the ship of strangers, and thou shalt find sorrows in\nthy house, even proud men that devour thy living, while they woo thy\ngodlike wife and offer the gifts of wooing. Yet I tell thee, on thy\ncoming thou shalt avenge their violence. But when thou hast slain the\nwooers in thy halls, whether by guile, or openly with the edge of the\nsword, thereafter go thy way, taking with thee a shapen oar, till thou\nshalt come to such men as know not the sea, neither eat meat savoured\nwith salt; yea, nor have they knowledge of ships of purple cheek, nor\nshapen oars which serve for wings to ships. And I will give thee a most\nmanifest token, which cannot escape thee. In the day when another\nwayfarer shall meet thee and say that thou hast a winnowing fan on thy\nstout shoulder, even then make fast thy shapen oar in the earth and do\ngoodly sacrifice to the lord Poseidon, even with a ram and a bull and a\nboar, the mate of swine, and depart for home and offer holy hecatombs\nto the deathless gods that keep the wide heaven, to each in order due.\nAnd from the sea shall thine own death come, the gentlest death that\nmay be, which shall end thee foredone with smooth old age, and the folk\nshall dwell happily around thee. This that I say is sooth.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake he, and I answered him, saying: \u2018Teiresias, all these\nthreads, methinks, the gods themselves have spun. But come, declare me\nthis and plainly tell me all. I see here the spirit of my mother dead;\nlo, she sits in silence near the blood, nor deigns to look her son in\nthe face nor speak to him! Tell me, prince, how may she know me again\nthat I am he?\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and anon he answered me, and said: \u2018I will tell thee an\neasy saying, and will put it in thy heart. Whomsoever of the dead that\nbe departed thou shalt suffer to draw nigh to the blood, he shall tell\nthee sooth; but if thou shalt grudge any, that one shall go to his own\nplace again.\u2019 Therewith the spirit of the prince Teiresias went back\nwithin the house of Hades, when he had told all his oracles. But I\nabode there steadfastly, till my mother drew nigh and drank the dark\nblood; and at once she knew me, and bewailing herself spake to me\nwinged words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Dear child, how didst thou come beneath the darkness and the shadow,\nthou that art a living man? Grievous is the sight of these things to\nthe living, for between us and you are great rivers and dreadful\nstreams; first, Oceanus, which can no wise be crossed on foot, but only\nif one have a well wrought ship. Art thou but now come hither with thy\nship and thy company in thy long wanderings from Troy? and hast thou\nnot yet reached Ithaca, nor seen thy wife in thy halls?\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so she spake, and I answered her, and said: \u2018O my mother,\nnecessity was on me to come down to the house of Hades to seek to the\nspirit of Theban Teiresias. For not yet have I drawn near to the\nAchaean shore, nor yet have I set foot on mine own country, but have\nbeen wandering evermore in affliction, from the day that first I went\nwith goodly Agamemnon to Ilios of the fair steeds, to do battle with\nthe Trojans. But come, declare me this and plainly tell it all. What\ndoom overcame thee of death that lays men at their length? Was it a\nslow disease, or did Artemis the archer slay thee with the visitation\nof her gentle shafts? And tell me of my father and my son, that I left\nbehind me; doth my honour yet abide with them, or hath another already\ntaken it, while they say that I shall come home no more? And tell me of\nmy wedded wife, of her counsel and her purpose, doth she abide with her\nson and keep all secure, or hath she already wedded the best of the\nAchaeans?\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so I spake, and anon my lady mother answered me: \u2018Yea verily, she\nabideth with steadfast spirit in thy halls; and wearily for her the\nnights wane always and the days in shedding of tears. But the fair\nhonour that is thine no man hath yet taken; but Telemachus sits at\npeace on his demesne, and feasts at equal banquets, whereof it is meet\nthat a judge partake, for all men bid him to their house. And thy\nfather abides there in the field, and goes not down to the town, nor\nlies he on bedding or rugs or shining blankets, but all the winter he\nsleeps, where sleep the thralls in the house, in the ashes by the fire,\nand is clad in sorry raiment. But when the summer comes and the rich\nharvest-tide, his beds of fallen leaves are strewn lowly all about the\nknoll of his vineyard plot. There he lies sorrowing and nurses his\nmighty grief, for long desire of thy return, and old age withal comes\nheavy upon him. Yea and even so did I too perish and meet my doom. It\nwas not the archer goddess of the keen sight, who slew me in my halls\nwith the visitation of her gentle shafts, nor did any sickness come\nupon me, such as chiefly with a sad wasting draws the spirit from the\nlimbs; nay, it was my sore longing for thee, and for thy counsels,\ngreat Odysseus, and for thy loving-kindness, that reft me of sweet\nlife.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, and I mused in my heart and would fain have embraced the\nspirit of my mother dead. Thrice I sprang towards her, and was minded\nto embrace her; thrice she flitted from my hands as a shadow or even as\na dream, and sharp grief arose ever at my heart. And uttering my voice\nI spake to her winged words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Mother mine, wherefore dost thou not abide me who am eager to clasp\nthee, that even in Hades we twain may cast our arms each about the\nother, and have our fill of chill lament? Is this but a phantom that\nthe high goddess Persephone hath sent me, to the end that I may groan\nfor more exceeding sorrow?\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and my lady mother answered me anon: \u2018Ah me, my child, of\nall men most ill-fated, Persephone, the daughter of Zeus, doth in no\nwise deceive thee, but even on this wise it is with mortals when they\ndie. For the sinews no more bind together the flesh and the bones, but\nthe great force of burning fire abolishes these, so soon as the life\nhath left the white bones, and the spirit like a dream flies forth and\nhovers near. But haste with all thine heart toward the sunlight, and\nmark all this, that even hereafter thou mayest tell it to thy wife.\u2019\n\n\u201cThus we twain held discourse together; and lo, the women came up, for\nthe high goddess Persephone sent them forth, all they that had been the\nwives and daughters of mighty men. And they gathered and flocked about\nthe black blood, and I took counsel how I might question them each one.\nAnd this was the counsel that showed best in my sight. I drew my long\nhanger from my stalwart thigh, and suffered them not all at one time to\ndrink of the dark blood. So they drew nigh one by one, and each\ndeclared her lineage, and I made question of all.\n\n\u201cThen verily did I first see Tyro, sprung of a noble sire, who said\nthat she was the child of noble Salmoneus, and declared herself the\nwife of Cretheus, son of Aeolus. She loved a river, the divine Enipeus,\nfar the fairest of the floods that run upon the earth, and she would\nresort to the fair streams of Enipeus. And it came to pass that the\ngirdler of the world, the Earth-shaker, put on the shape of the god,\nand lay by the lady at the mouths of the whirling stream. Then the dark\nwave stood around them like a hill-side bowed, and hid the god and the\nmortal woman. And he undid her maiden girdle, and shed a slumber over\nher. Now when the god had done the work of love, he clasped her hand\nand spake and hailed her:\n\n\u201c\u2018Woman, be glad in our love, and when the year comes round thou shalt\ngive birth to glorious children,\u2014for not weak are the embraces of the\ngods,\u2014and do thou keep and cherish them. And now go home and hold thy\npeace, and tell it not: but behold, I am Poseidon, shaker of the\nearth.\u2019\n\n\u201cTherewith he plunged beneath the heaving deep. And she conceived and\nbare Pelias and Neleus, who both grew to be mighty men, servants of\nZeus. Pelias dwelt in wide Iolcos, and was rich in flocks; and that\nother abode in sandy Pylos. And the queen of women bare yet other sons\nto Cretheus, even Aeson and Pheres and Amythaon, whose joy was in\nchariots.\n\n\u201cAnd after her I saw Antiope, daughter of Asopus, and her boast was\nthat she had slept even in the arms of Zeus, and she bare two sons,\nAmphion and Zethus, who founded first the place of seven-gated Thebes,\nand they made of it a fenced city, for they might not dwell in spacious\nThebes unfenced, for all their valiancy.\n\n\u201cNext to her I saw Alcmene, wife of Amphitryon, who lay in the arms of\nmighty Zeus, and bare Heracles of the lion-heart, steadfast in the\nfight. And I saw Megara, daughter of Creon, haughty of heart, whom the\nstrong and tireless son of Amphitryon had to wife.\n\n\u201cAnd I saw the mother of Oedipodes, fair Epicaste, who wrought a dread\ndeed unwittingly, being wedded to her own son, and he that had slain\nhis own father wedded her, and straightway the gods made these things\nknown to men. Yet he abode in pain in pleasant Thebes, ruling the\nCadmaeans, by reason of the deadly counsels of the gods. But she went\ndown to the house of Hades, the mighty warder; yea, she tied a noose\nfrom the high beam aloft, being fast holden in sorrow; while for him\nshe left pains behind full many, even all that the Avengers of a mother\nbring to pass.\n\n\u201cAnd I saw lovely Chloris, whom Neleus wedded on a time for her beauty,\nand brought gifts of wooing past number. She was the youngest daughter\nof Amphion, son of Iasus, who once ruled mightily in Minyan Orchomenus.\nAnd she was queen of Pylos, and bare glorious children to her lord,\nNestor and Chromius, and princely Periclymenus, and stately Pero too,\nthe wonder of all men. All that dwelt around were her wooers; but\nNeleus would not give her, save to him who should drive off from\nPhylace the kine of mighty Iphicles, with shambling gait and broad of\nbrow, hard cattle to drive. And none but the noble seer[19] took in\nhand to drive them; but a grievous fate from the gods fettered him,\neven hard bonds and the herdsmen of the wild. But when at length the\nmonths and days were being fulfilled, as the year returned upon his\ncourse, and the seasons came round, then did mighty Iphicles set him\nfree, when he had spoken out all the oracles; and herein was the\ncounsel of Zeus being accomplished.\n\n [19] Melampus\n\n\n\u201cAnd I saw Lede, the famous bed-fellow of Tyndareus, who bare to\nTyndareus two sons, hardy of heart, Castor tamer of steeds, and\nPolydeuces the boxer. These twain yet live, but the quickening earth is\nover them; and even in the nether world they have honour at the hand of\nZeus. And they possess their life in turn, living one day and dying the\nnext, and they have gotten worship even as the gods.\n\n\u201cAnd after her I beheld Iphimedeia, bed-fellow of Aloeus, who said that\nshe had lain with Poseidon, and she bare children twain, but short of\nlife were they, godlike Otus and far-famed Ephialtes. Now these were\nthe tallest men that earth, the graingiver, ever reared, and far the\ngoodliest after the renowned Orion. At nine seasons old they were of\nbreadth nine cubits, and nine fathoms in height. They it was who\nthreatened to raise even against the immortals in Olympus the din of\nstormy war. They strove to pile Ossa on Olympus, and on Ossa Pelion\nwith the trembling forest leaves, that there might be a pathway to the\nsky. Yea, and they would have accomplished it, had they reached the\nfull measure of manhood. But the son of Zeus, whom Leto of the fair\nlocks bare, destroyed the twain, ere the down had bloomed beneath their\ntemples, and darkened their chins with the blossom of youth.\n\n\u201cAnd Phaedra and Procris I saw, and fair Ariadne, the daughter of\nwizard Minos, whom Theseus on a time was bearing from Crete to the hill\nof sacred Athens, yet had he no joy of her; for Artemis slew her ere\nthat in sea-girt Dia, by reason of the witness of Dionysus.\n\n\u201cAnd Maera and Clymene I saw, and hateful Eriphyle, who took fine gold\nfor the price of her dear lord\u2019s life. But I cannot tell or name all\nthe wives and daughters of the heroes that I saw; ere that, the\nimmortal night would wane. Nay, it is even now time to sleep, whether I\ngo to the swift ship to my company or abide here: and for my convoy you\nand the gods will care.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and dead silence fell on all, and they were spell-bound\nthroughout the shadowy halls. Then Arete of the white arms first spake\namong them: \u201cPhaeacians, what think you of this man for comeliness and\nstature, and within for wisdom of heart? Moreover he is my guest,\nthough every one of you hath his share in this honour. Wherefore haste\nnot to send him hence, and stint not these your gifts for one that\nstands in such sore need of them; for ye have much treasure stored in\nyour halls by the grace of the gods.\u201d\n\nThen too spake among them the old man, lord Echeneus, that was an elder\namong the Phaeacians: \u201cFriends, behold, the speech of our wise queen is\nnot wide of the mark, nor far from our deeming, so hearken ye thereto.\nBut on Alcinous here both word and work depend.\u201d\n\nThen Alcinous made answer, and spake unto him: \u201cYea, the word that she\nhath spoken shall hold, if indeed I am yet to live and bear rule among\nthe Phaeacians, masters of the oar. Howbeit let the stranger, for all\nhis craving to return, nevertheless endure to abide until the morrow,\ntill I make up the full measure of the gift; and men shall care for his\nconvoy, all men, but I in chief, for mine is the lordship in the land.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him, saying: My lord Alcinous,\nmost notable of all the people, if ye bade me tarry here even for a\nyear, and would speed my convoy and give me splendid gifts, even that I\nwould choose; and better would it be for me to come with a fuller hand\nto mine own dear country, so should I get more love and worship in the\neyes of all men, whoso should see me after I was returned to Ithaca.\u201d\n\nAnd Alcinous answered him, saying: \u201cOdysseus, in no wise do we deem\nthee, we that look on thee, to be a knave or a cheat, even as the dark\nearth rears many such broadcast, fashioning lies whence none can even\nsee his way therein. But beauty crowns thy words, and wisdom is within\nthee; and thy tale, as when a minstrel sings, thou hast told with\nskill, the weary woes of all the Argives and of thine own self. But\ncome, declare me this and plainly tell it all. Didst thou see any of\nthy godlike company who went up at the same time with thee to Ilios and\nthere met their doom? Behold, the night is of great length,\nunspeakable, and the time for sleep in the hall is not yet; tell me\ntherefore of those wondrous deeds. I could abide even till the bright\ndawn, so long as thou couldst endure to rehearse me these woes of thine\nin the hall.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him, saying: \u201cMy lord Alcinous,\nmost notable of all the people, there is a time for many words and\nthere is a time for sleep. But if thou art eager still to listen, I\nwould not for my part grudge to tell thee of other things more pitiful\nstill, even the woes of my comrades, those that perished afterward, for\nthey had escaped with their lives from the dread war-cry of the\nTrojans, but perished in returning by the will of an evil woman.\n\n\u201cNow when holy Persephone had scattered this way and that the spirits\nof the women folk, thereafter came the soul of Agamemnon, son of\nAtreus, sorrowing; and round him others were gathered, the ghosts of\nthem who had died with him in the house of Aegisthus and met their\ndoom. And he knew me straightway when he had drunk the dark blood, yea,\nand he wept aloud, and shed big tears as he stretched forth his hands\nin his longing to reach me. But it might not be, for he had now no\nsteadfast strength nor power at all in moving, such as was aforetime in\nhis supple limbs.\n\n\u201cAt the sight of him I wept and was moved with compassion, and uttering\nmy voice, spake to him winged words: \u2018Most renowned son of Atreus,\nAgamemnon, king of men, say what doom overcame thee of death that lays\nmen at their length? Did Poseidon smite thee in thy ships, raising the\ndolorous blast of contrary winds, or did unfriendly men do thee hurt\nupon the land, whilst thou wert cutting off their oxen and fair flocks\nof sheep, or fighting to win a city and the women thereof?\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and straightway he answered, and said unto me: \u2018Son of\nLaertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, it was not\nPoseidon that smote me in my ships, and raised the dolorous blast of\ncontrary winds, nor did unfriendly men do me hurt upon the land, but\nAegisthus it was that wrought me death and doom and slew me, with the\naid of my accursed wife, as one slays an ox at the stall, after he had\nbidden me to his house, and entertained me at a feast. Even so I died\nby a death most pitiful, and round me my company likewise were slain\nwithout ceasing, like swine with glittering tusks which are slaughtered\nin the house of a rich and mighty man, whether at a wedding banquet or\na joint-feast or a rich clan-drinking. Ere now hast thou been at the\nslaying of many a man, killed in single fight or in strong battle, yet\nthou wouldst have sorrowed the most at this sight, how we lay in the\nhall round the mixing-bowl and the laden boards, and the floor all ran\nwith blood. And most pitiful of all that I heard was the voice of the\ndaughter of Priam, of Cassandra, whom hard by me the crafty\nClytemnestra slew. Then I strove to raise my hands as I was dying upon\nthe sword, but to earth they fell. And that shameless one turned her\nback upon me, and had not the heart to draw down my eyelids with her\nfingers nor to close my mouth. So surely is there nought more terrible\nand shameless than a woman who imagines such evil in her heart, even as\nshe too planned a foul deed, fashioning death for her wedded lord.\nVerily I had thought to come home most welcome to my children and my\nthralls; but she, out of the depth of her evil knowledge, hath shed\nshame on herself and on all womankind, which shall be for ever, even on\nthe upright.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so he spake, but I answered him, saying: \u2018Lo now, in very sooth,\nhath Zeus of the far-borne voice wreaked wondrous hatred on the seed of\nAtreus through the counsels of woman from of old. For Helen\u2019s sake so\nmany of us perished, and now Clytemnestra hath practised treason\nagainst thee, while yet thou wast afar off.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so I spake, and anon he answered me, saying: \u2018Wherefore do thou\ntoo, never henceforth be soft even to thy wife, neither show her all\nthe counsel that thou knowest, but a part declare and let part be hid.\nYet shalt not thou, Odysseus, find death at the hand of thy wife, for\nshe is very discreet and prudent in all her ways, the wise Penelope,\ndaughter of Icarius. Verily we left her a bride new wed when we went to\nthe war, and a child was at her breast, who now, methinks, sits in the\nranks of men, happy in his lot, for his dear father shall behold him on\nhis coming, and he shall embrace his sire as is meet. But us for my\nwife, she suffered me not so much as to have my fill of gazing on my\nson; ere that she slew me, even her lord. And yet another thing will I\ntell thee, and do thou ponder it in thy heart. Put thy ship to land in\nsecret, and not openly, on the shore of thy dear country; for there is\nno more faith in woman. But come, declare me this and plainly tell it\nall, if haply ye hear of my son as yet living, either, it may be, in\nOrchomenus or in sandy Pylos, or perchance with Menelaus in wide\nSparta, for goodly Orestes hath not yet perished on the earth.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so he spake, but I answered him, saying: \u2018Son of Atreus,\nwherefore dost thou ask me straitly of these things? Nay I know not at\nall, whether he be alive or dead; it is ill to speak words light as\nwind.\u2019\n\n\u201cThus we twain stood sorrowing, holding sad discourse, while the big\ntears fell fast: and therewithal came the soul of Achilles, son of\nPeleus, and of Patroclus and of noble Antilochus and of Aias, who in\nface and form was goodliest of all the Danaans, after the noble son of\nPeleus. And the spirit of the son of Aeacus, fleet of foot, knew me\nagain, and making lament spake to me winged words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Son of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, man\noverbold, what new deed and hardier than this wilt thou devise in thy\nheart? How durst thou come down to the house of Hades, where dwell the\nsenseless dead, the phantoms of men outworn?\u2019\n\n\u201cSo he spake, but I answered him: \u2018Achilles, son of Peleus, mightiest\nfar of the Achaeans, I am come hither to seek to Teiresias, if he may\ntell me any counsel, how I may come to rugged Ithaca. For not yet have\nI come nigh the Achaean land, nor set foot on mine own soil, but am\nstill in evil case; while as for thee, Achilles, none other than thou\nwast heretofore the most blessed of men, nor shall any be hereafter.\nFor of old, in the days of thy life, we Argives gave thee one honour\nwith the gods, and now thou art a great prince here among the dead.\nWherefore let not thy death be any grief to thee, Achilles.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so I spake, and he straightway answered me, and said: \u2018Nay, speak\nnot comfortably to me of death, oh great Odysseus. Rather would I live\non ground[20] as the hireling of another, with a landless man who had\nno great livelihood, than bear sway among all the dead that be\ndeparted. But come, tell me tidings of that lordly son of mine\u2014did he\nfollow to the war to be a leader or not? And tell me of noble Peleus,\nif thou hast heard aught,\u2014is he yet held in worship among the\nMyrmidons, or do they dishonour him from Hellas to Phthia, for that old\nage binds him hand and foot? For I am no longer his champion under the\nsun, so mighty a man as once I was, when in wide Troy I slew the best\nof the host, and succoured the Argives. Ah! could I but come for an\nhour to my father\u2019s house as then I was, so would I make my might and\nhands invincible, to be hateful to many an one of those who do him\ndespite and keep him from his honour.\u2019\n\n [20] \u1f10\u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 seems to mean \u201cupon the earth,\u201d \u201cabove ground,\u201d as\n opposed to the dead who are below, rather than \u201cbound to the soil,\u201d in\n which sense most commentators take it.\n\n\n\u201cEven so he spake, but I answered him saying: \u2018As for noble Peleus,\nverily I have heard nought of him; but concerning thy dear son\nNeoptolemus, I will tell thee all the truth, according to thy word. It\nwas I that led him up out of Scyros in my good hollow ship, in the wake\nof the goodly-greaved Achaeans. Now oft as we took counsel around Troy\ntown, he was ever the first to speak, and no word missed the mark; the\ngodlike Nestor and I alone surpassed him. But whensoever we Achaeans\ndid battle on the plain of Troy, he never tarried behind in the throng\nor the press of men, but ran out far before us all, yielding to none in\nthat might of his. And many men he slew in warfare dread; but I could\nnot tell of all or name their names, even all the host he slew in\nsuccouring the Argives; but, ah, how he smote with the sword that son\nof Telephus, the hero Eurypylus, and many Ceteians[21] of his company\nwere slain around him, by reason of a woman\u2019s bribe. He truly was the\ncomeliest man that ever I saw, next to goodly Memnon. And again when\nwe, the best of the Argives, were about to go down into the horse which\nEpeus wrought, and the charge of all was laid on me, both to open the\ndoor of our good ambush and to shut the same, then did the other\nprinces and counsellors of the Danaans wipe away the tears, and the\nlimbs of each one trembled beneath him, but never once did I see thy\nson\u2019s fair face wax pale, nor did he wipe the tears from his cheeks:\nbut he besought me often to let him go forth from the horse, and kept\nhandling his sword-hilt, and his heavy bronze-shod spear, and he was\nset on mischief against the Trojans. But after we had sacked the steep\ncity of Priam, he embarked unscathed with his share of the spoil, and\nwith a noble prize; he was not smitten with the sharp spear, and got no\nwound in close fight: and many such chances there be in war, for Ares\nrageth confusedly.\u2019\n\n [21] See Lenormant, Premi\u00e8res Civilisations, vol. i. p. 289.\n\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and the spirit of the son of Aeacus, fleet of foot, passed\nwith great strides along the mead of asphodel, rejoicing in that I had\ntold him of his son\u2019s renown.\n\n\u201cBut lo, other spirits of the dead that be departed stood sorrowing,\nand each one asked of those that were dear to them. The soul of Aias,\nson of Telamon, alone stood apart being still angry for the victory\nwherein I prevailed against him, in the suit by the ships concerning\nthe arms of Achilles, that his lady mother had set for a prize; and the\nsons of the Trojans made award and Pallas Athene. Would that I had\nnever prevailed and won such a prize! So goodly a head hath the earth\nclosed over, for the sake of those arms, even over Aias, who in beauty\nand in feats of war was of a mould above all the other Danaans, next to\nthe noble son of Peleus. To him then I spake softly, saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Aias, son of noble Telamon, so art thou not even in death to forget\nthy wrath against me, by reason of those arms accursed, which the gods\nset to be the bane of the Argives? What a tower of strength fell in thy\nfall, and we Achaeans cease not to sorrow for thee, even as for the\nlife of Achilles, son of Peleus! Nay, there is none other to blame, but\nZeus, who hath borne wondrous hate to the army of the Danaan spearsmen,\nand laid on thee thy doom. Nay, come hither, my lord, that thou mayest\nhear my word and my speech; master thy wrath and thy proud spirit.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, but he answered me not a word and passed to Erebus after\nthe other spirits of the dead that be departed. Even then, despite his\nanger, would he have spoken to me or I to him, but my heart within me\nwas minded to see the spirits of those others that were departed.\n\n\u201cThere then I saw Minos, glorious son of Zeus, wielding a golden\nsceptre, giving sentence from his throne to the dead, while they sat\nand stood around the prince, asking his dooms through the wide-gated\nhouse of Hades.\n\n\u201cAnd after him I marked the mighty Orion driving the wild beasts\ntogether over the mead of asphodel, the very beasts that himself had\nslain on the lonely hills, with a strong mace all of bronze in his\nhands,[22] that is ever unbroken.\n\n [22] \u1f14\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd in strict grammar agrees with \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 in 574, but this is\n merely by attraction, for in sense it refers not to the living man,\n but to his phantom.\n\n\n\u201cAnd I saw Tityos, son of renowned Earth, lying on a levelled ground,\nand he covered nine roods as he lay, and vultures twain beset him one\non either side, and gnawed at his liver, piercing even to the caul, but\nhe drave them not away with his hands. For he had dealt violently with\nLeto, the famous bedfellow of Zeus, as she went up to Pytho through the\nfair lawns of Panopeus.\n\n\u201cMoreover I beheld Tantalus in grievous torment, standing in a mere and\nthe water came nigh unto his chin. And he stood straining as one\nathirst, but he might not attain to the water to drink of it. For often\nas that old man stooped down in his eagerness to drink, so often the\nwater was swallowed up and it vanished away, and the black earth still\nshowed at his feet, for some god parched it evermore. And tall trees\nflowering shed their fruit overhead, pears and pomegranates and apple\ntrees with bright fruit, and sweet figs and olives in their bloom,\nwhereat when that old man reached out his hands to clutch them, the\nwind would toss them to the shadowy clouds.\n\n\u201cYea and I beheld Sisyphus in strong torment, grasping a monstrous\nstone with both his hands. He was pressing thereat with hands and feet,\nand trying to roll the stone upward toward the brow of the hill. But\noft as he was about to hurl it over the top, the weight would drive him\nback, so once again to the plain rolled the stone, the shameless thing.\nAnd he once more kept heaving and straining, and the sweat the while\nwas pouring down his limbs, and the dust rose upwards from his head.\n\n\u201cAnd after him I descried the mighty Heracles, his phantom, I say; but\nas for himself he hath joy at the banquet among the deathless gods, and\nhath to wife Hebe of the fair ankles, child of great Zeus, and of Here\nof the golden sandals. And all about him there was a clamour of the\ndead, as it were fowls flying every way in fear, and he like black\nNight, with bow uncased, and shaft upon the string, fiercely glancing\naround, like one in the act to shoot. And about his breast was an awful\nbelt, a baldric of gold, whereon wondrous things were wrought, bears\nand wild boars and lions with flashing eyes, and strife and battles and\nslaughters and murders of men. Nay, now that he hath fashioned this,\nnever another may he fashion, whoso stored in his craft the device of\nthat belt! And anon he knew me when his eyes beheld me, and making\nlament he spake unto me winged words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Son of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices: ah!\nwretched one, dost thou too lead such a life of evil doom, as I endured\nbeneath the rays of the sun? I was the son of Zeus Cronion, yet had I\ntrouble beyond measure, for I was subdued unto a man far worse than I.\nAnd he enjoined on me hard adventures, yea and on a time he sent me\nhither to bring back the hound of hell; for he devised no harder task\nfor me than this. I lifted the hound and brought him forth from out of\nthe house of Hades; and Hermes sped me on my way and the grey-eyed\nAthene.\u2019\n\n\u201cTherewith he departed again into the house of Hades, but I abode there\nstill, if perchance some one of the hero folk besides might come, who\ndied in old time. Yea and I should have seen the men of old, whom I was\nfain to look on, Theseus and Peirithous, renowned children of the gods.\nBut ere that might be the myriad tribes of the dead thronged up\ntogether with wondrous clamour: and pale fear gat hold of me, lest the\nhigh goddess Persephone should send me the head of the Gorgon, that\ndread monster, from out of Hades.\n\n\u201cStraightway then I went to the ship, and bade my men mount the vessel,\nand loose the hawsers. So speedily they went on board, and sat upon the\nbenches. And the wave of the flood bore the barque down the stream of\nOceanus, we rowing first, and afterwards the fair wind was our convoy.\n\n\n\nBOOK XII.\n\n\nOdysseus, his passage by the Sirens, and by Scylla and Charybdis. The\nsacrilege committed by his men in the isle Thrinacia. The destruction\nof his ships and men. How he swam on a plank nine days together, and\ncame to Ogygia, where he stayed seven years with Calypso.\n\n\n\u201cNow after the ship had left the stream of the river Oceanus, and was\ncome to the wave of the wide sea, and the isle Aeaean, where is the\ndwelling place of early Dawn and her dancing grounds, and the land of\nsunrising, upon our coming thither we beached the ship in the sand, and\nourselves too stept ashore on the sea beach. There we fell on sound\nsleep and awaited the bright Dawn.\n\n\u201cSo soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, I sent forth my\nfellows to the house of Circe to fetch the body of the dead Elpenor.\nAnd speedily we cut billets of wood and sadly we buried him, where the\nfurthest headland runs out into the sea, shedding big tears. But when\nthe dead man was burned and the arms of the dead, we piled a barrow and\ndragged up thereon a pillar, and on the topmost mound we set the shapen\noar.\n\n\u201cNow all that task we finished, and our coming from out of Hades was\nnot unknown to Circe, but she arrayed herself and speedily drew nigh,\nand her handmaids with her bare flesh and bread in plenty and dark red\nwine. And the fair goddess stood in the midst and spake in our ears,\nsaying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Men overbold, who have gone alive into the house of Hades, to know\ndeath twice, while all men else die once for all. Nay come, eat ye meat\nand drink wine here all day long; and with the breaking of the day ye\nshall set sail, and myself I will show you the path and declare each\nthing, that ye may not suffer pain or hurt through any grievous\nill-contrivance by sea or on the land.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, and our lordly souls consented thereto. Thus for that\ntime we sat the livelong day, until the going down of the sun, feasting\non abundant flesh and on sweet wine. Now when the sun sank and darkness\ncame on, my company laid them to rest by the hawsers of the ship. Then\nshe took me by the hand and led me apart from my dear company, and made\nme to sit down and laid herself at my feet, and asked all my tale. And\nI told her all in order duly. Then at the last the Lady Circe spake\nunto me, saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Even so, now all these things have an end; do thou then hearken even\nas I tell thee, and the god himself shall bring it back to thy mind. To\nthe Sirens first shalt thou come, who bewitch all men, whosoever shall\ncome to them. Whoso draws nigh them unwittingly and hears the sound of\nthe Sirens\u2019 voice, never doth he see wife or babes stand by him on his\nreturn, nor have they joy at his coming; but the Sirens enchant him\nwith their clear song, sitting in the meadow, and all about is a great\nheap of bones of men, corrupt in death, and round the bones the skin is\nwasting. But do thou drive thy ship past, and knead honey-sweet wax,\nand anoint therewith the ears of thy company, lest any of the rest hear\nthe song; but if thou myself art minded to hear, let them bind thee in\nthe swift ship hand and foot, upright in the mast-stead, and from the\nmast let rope-ends be tied, that with delight thou mayest hear the\nvoice of the Sirens. And if thou shalt beseech thy company and bid them\nto loose thee, then let them bind thee with yet more bonds. But when\nthy friends have driven thy ship past these, I will not tell thee fully\nwhich path shall thenceforth be thine, but do thou thyself consider it,\nand I will speak to thee of either way. On the one side there are\nbeetling rocks, and against them the great wave roars of dark-eyed\nAmphitrite. These, ye must know, are they the blessed gods call the\nRocks Wandering. By this way even winged things may never pass, nay,\nnot even the cowering doves that bear ambrosia to Father Zeus, but the\nsheer rock evermore takes away one even of these, and the Father sends\nin another to make up the tale. Thereby no ship of men ever escapes\nthat comes thither, but the planks of ships and the bodies of men\nconfusedly are tossed by the waves of the sea and the storms of ruinous\nfire. One ship only of all that fare by sea hath passed that way, even\nArgo, that is in all men\u2019s minds, on her voyage from Aeetes. And even\nher the wave would lightly have cast there upon the mighty rocks, but\nHere sent her by for love of Jason.\n\n\u201c\u2018On the other part are two rocks, whereof the one reaches with sharp\npeak to the wide heaven, and a dark cloud encompasses it; this never\nstreams away, and there is no clear air about the peak neither in\nsummer nor in harvest tide. No mortal man may scale it or set foot\nthereon, not though he had twenty hands and feet. For the rock is\nsmooth, and sheer, as it were polished. And in the midst of the cliff\nis a dim cave turned to Erebus, towards the place of darkness, whereby\nye shall even steer your hollow ship, noble Odysseus. Not with an arrow\nfrom a bow might a man in his strength reach from his hollow ship into\nthat deep cave. And therein dwelleth Scylla, yelping terribly. Her\nvoice indeed is no greater than the voice of a new-born whelp, but a\ndreadful monster is she, nor would any look on her gladly, not if it\nwere a god that met her. Verily she hath twelve feet all dangling down;\nand six necks exceeding long, and on each a hideous head, and therein\nthree rows of teeth set thick and close, full of black death. Up to her\nmiddle is she sunk far down in the hollow cave, but forth she holds her\nheads from the dreadful gulf, and there she fishes, swooping round the\nrock, for dolphins or sea-dogs, or whatso greater beast she may\nanywhere take, whereof the deep-voiced Amphitrite feeds countless\nflocks. Thereby no sailors boast that they have fled scatheless ever\nwith their ship, for with each head she carries off a man, whom she\nhath snatched from out the dark-prowed ship.\n\n\u201c\u2018But that other cliff, Odysseus, thou shalt note, lying lower, hard by\nthe first: thou couldest send an arrow across. And thereon is a great\nfig-tree growing, in fullest leaf, and beneath it mighty Charybdis\nsucks down black water, for thrice a day she spouts it forth, and\nthrice a day she sucks it down in terrible wise. Never mayest thou be\nthere when she sucks the water, for none might save thee then from thy\nbane, not even the Earth-Shaker! But take heed and swiftly drawing nigh\nto Scylla\u2019s rock drive the ship past, since of a truth it is far better\nto mourn six of thy company in the ship, than all in the selfsame\nhour.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, but I answered, and said unto her: \u2018Come I pray thee\nherein, goddess, tell me true, if there be any means whereby I might\nescape from the deadly Charybdis and avenge me on that other, when she\nwould prey upon my company.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and that fair goddess answered me: \u2018Man overbold, lo, now\nagain the deeds of war are in thy mind and the travail thereof. Wilt\nthou not yield thee even to the deathless gods? As for her, she is no\nmortal, but an immortal plague, dread, grievous, and fierce, and not to\nbe fought with; and against her there is no defence; flight is the\nbravest way. For if thou tarry to do on thine armour by the cliff, I\nfear lest once again she sally forth and catch at thee with so many\nheads, and seize as many men as before. So drive past with all thy\nforce, and call on Cratais, mother of Scylla, which bore her for a bane\nto mortals. And she will then let her from darting forth thereafter.\n\n\u201c\u2018Then thou shalt come unto the isle Thrinacia; there are the many kine\nof Helios and his brave flocks feeding, seven herds of kine and as many\ngoodly flocks of sheep, and fifty in each flock. They have no part in\nbirth or in corruption, and there are goddesses to shepherd them,\nnymphs with fair tresses, Phaethusa and Lampetie whom bright Neaera\nbare to Helios Hyperion. Now when the lady their mother had borne and\nnursed them, she carried them to the isle Thrinacia to dwell afar, that\nthey should guard their father\u2019s flocks and his kine with shambling\ngait. If thou doest these no hurt, being heedful of thy return, truly\nye may even yet reach Ithaca, albeit in evil case. But if thou hurtest\nthem, I foreshow ruin for thy ship and for thy men, and even though\nthou shouldest thyself escape, late shalt thou return in evil plight\nwith the loss of all thy company.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, and anon came the golden-throned Dawn. Then the fair\ngoddess took her way up the island. But I departed to my ship and\nroused my men themselves to mount the vessel and loose the hawsers. And\nspeedily they went aboard and sat upon the benches, and sitting orderly\nsmote the grey sea water with their oars. And in the wake of our\ndark-prowed ship she sent a favouring wind that filled the sails, a\nkindly escort,\u2014even Circe of the braided tresses, a dread goddess of\nhuman speech. And straightway we set in order the gear throughout the\nship and sat us down, and the wind and the helmsman guided our barque.\n\n\u201cThen I spake among my company with a heavy heart: \u2018Friends, forasmuch\nas it is not well that one or two alone should know of the oracles that\nCirce, the fair goddess, spake unto me, therefore will I declare them,\nthat with foreknowledge we may die, or haply shunning death and destiny\nescape. First she bade us avoid the sound of the voice of the wondrous\nSirens, and their field of flowers, and me only she bade listen to\ntheir voices. So bind ye me in a hard bond, that I may abide unmoved in\nmy place, upright in the mast-stead, and from the mast let rope-ends be\ntied, and if I beseech and bid you to set me free, then do ye straiten\nme with yet more bonds.\u2019\n\n\u201cThus I rehearsed these things one and all, and declared them to my\ncompany. Meanwhile our good ship quickly came to the island of the\nSirens twain, for a gentle breeze sped her on her way. Then straightway\nthe wind ceased, and lo, there was a windless calm, and some god lulled\nthe waves. Then my company rose up and drew in the ship\u2019s sails, and\nstowed them in the hold of the ship, while they sat at the oars and\nwhitened the water with their polished pine blades. But I with my sharp\nsword cleft in pieces a great circle of wax, and with my strong hands\nkneaded it. And soon the wax grew warm, for that my great might\nconstrained it, and the beam of the lord Helios, son of Hyperion. And I\nanointed therewith the ears of all my men in their order, and in the\nship they bound me hand and foot upright in the mast-stead, and from\nthe mast they fastened rope-ends and themselves sat down, and smote the\ngrey sea water with their oars. But when the ship was within the sound\nof a man\u2019s shout from the land, we fleeing swiftly on our way, the\nSirens espied the swift ship speeding toward them, and they raised\ntheir clear-toned song:\n\n\u201c\u2018Hither, come hither, renowned Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans,\nhere stay thy barque, that thou mayest listen to the voice of us twain.\nFor none hath ever driven by this way in his black ship, till he hath\nheard from our lips the voice sweet as the honeycomb, and hath had joy\nthereof and gone on his way the wiser. For lo, we know all things, all\nthe travail that in wide Troy-land the Argives and Trojans bare by the\ngods\u2019 designs, yea, and we know all that shall hereafter be upon the\nfruitful earth.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake they uttering a sweet voice, and my heart was fain to listen,\nand I bade my company unbind me, nodding at them with a frown, but they\nbent to their oars and rowed on. Then straight uprose Perimedes and\nEurylochus and bound me with more cords and straitened me yet the more.\nNow when we had driven past them, nor heard we any longer the sound of\nthe Sirens or their song, forthwith my dear company took away the wax\nwherewith I had anointed their ears and loosed me from my bonds.\n\n\u201cBut so soon as we left that isle, thereafter presently I saw smoke and\na great wave, and heard the sea roaring. Then for very fear the oars\nflew from their hands, and down the stream they all splashed, and the\nship was holden there, for my company no longer plied with their hands\nthe tapering oars. But I paced the ship and cheered on my men, as I\nstood by each one and spake smooth words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Friends, forasmuch as in sorrow we are not all unlearned, truly this\nis no greater woe that is upon us,[23] than when the Cyclops penned us\nby main might in his hollow cave; yet even thence we made escape by my\nmanfulness, even by my counsel and my wit, and some day I think that\nthis adventure too we shall remember. Come now, therefore, let us all\ngive ear to do according to my word. Do ye smite the deep surf of the\nsea with your oars, as ye sit on the benches, if peradventure Zeus may\ngrant us to escape from and shun this death. And as for thee, helmsman,\nthus I charge thee, and ponder it in thine heart seeing that thou\nwieldest the helm of the hollow ship. Keep the ship well away from this\nsmoke and from the wave and hug the rocks, lest the ship, ere thou art\naware, start from her course to the other side, and so thou hurl us\ninto ruin.\u2019\n\n [23] Reading \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76, not \u1f14\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9 with La Roche.\n\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and quickly they hearkened to my words. But of Scylla I\ntold them nothing more, a bane none might deal with, lest haply my\ncompany should cease from rowing for fear, and hide them in the hold.\nIn that same hour I suffered myself to forget the hard behest of Circe,\nin that she bade me in nowise be armed; but I did on my glorious\nharness and caught up two long lances in my hands, and went on the\ndecking of the prow, for thence methought that Scylla of the rock would\nfirst be seen, who was to bring woe on my company. Yet could I not spy\nher anywhere, and my eyes waxed weary for gazing all about toward the\ndarkness of the rock.\n\n\u201cNext we began to sail up the narrow strait lamenting. For on the one\nhand lay Scylla, and on the other mighty Charybdis in terrible wise\nsucked down the salt sea water. As often as she belched it forth, like\na cauldron on a great fire she would seethe up through all her troubled\ndeeps, and overhead the spray fell on the tops of either cliff. But oft\nas she gulped down the salt sea water, within she was all plain to see\nthrough her troubled deeps, and the rock around roared horribly and\nbeneath the earth was manifest swart with sand, and pale fear gat hold\non my men. Toward her, then, we looked fearing destruction; but Scylla\nmeanwhile caught from out my hollow ship six of my company, the\nhardiest of their hands and the chief in might. And looking into the\nswift ship to find my men, even then I marked their feet and hands as\nthey were lifted on high, and they cried aloud in their agony, and\ncalled me by my name for that last time of all. Even as when as fisher\non some headland lets down with a long rod his baits for a snare to the\nlittle fishes below, casting into the deep the horn of an ox of the\nhomestead, and as he catches each flings it writhing ashore, so\nwrithing were they borne upward to the cliff. And there she devoured\nthem shrieking in her gates, they stretching forth their hands to me in\nthe dread death-struggle. And the most pitiful thing was this that mine\neyes have seen of all my travail in searching out the paths of the sea.\n\n\u201cNow when we had escaped the Rocks and dread Charybdis and Scylla,\nthereafter we soon came to the fair island of the god; where were the\ngoodly kine, broad of brow, and the many brave flocks of Helios\nHyperion. Then while as yet I was in my black ship upon the deep, I\nheard the lowing of the cattle being stalled and the bleating of the\nsheep, and on my mind there fell the saying of the blind seer, Theban\nTeiresias, and of Circe of Aia, who charged me very straitly to shun\nthe isle of Helios, the gladdener of the world. Then I spake out among\nmy company in sorrow of heart:\n\n\u201c\u2018Hear my words, my men, albeit in evil plight, that I may declare unto\nyou the oracles of Teiresias and of Circe of Aia, who very straitly\ncharged me to shun the isle of Helios, the gladdener of the world. For\nthere she said the most dreadful mischief would befal us. Nay, drive ye\nthen the black ship beyond and past that isle.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and their heart was broken within them. And Eurylochus\nstraightway answered me sadly, saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Hardy art thou, Odysseus, of might beyond measure, and thy limbs are\nnever weary; verily thou art fashioned all of iron, that sufferest not\nthy fellows, foredone with toil and drowsiness, to set foot on shore,\nwhere we might presently prepare us a good supper in this sea-girt\nisland. But even as we are thou biddest us fare blindly through the\nsudden night, and from the isle go wandering on the misty deep. And\nstrong winds, the bane of ships, are born of the night. How could a man\nescape from utter doom, if there chanced to come a sudden blast of the\nSouth Wind, or of the boisterous West, which mainly wreck ships, beyond\nthe will of the gods, the lords of all? Howbeit for this present let us\nyield to the black night, and we will make ready our supper abiding by\nthe swift ship, and in the morning we will climb on board, and put out\ninto the broad deep.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake Eurylochus, and the rest of my company consented thereto.\nThen at the last I knew that some god was indeed imagining evil, and I\nuttered my voice and spake unto him winged words:\n\n\u201c\u2018Eurylochus, verily ye put force upon me, being but one among you all.\nBut come, swear me now a mighty oath, one and all, to the intent that\nif we light on a herd of kine or a great flock of sheep, none in the\nevil folly of his heart may slay any sheep or ox; but in quiet eat ye\nthe meat which the deathless Circe gave.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and straightway they swore to refrain as I commanded them.\nNow after they had sworn and done that oath, we stayed our well-builded\nship in the hollow harbour near to a well of sweet water, and my\ncompany went forth from out the ship and deftly got ready supper. But\nwhen they had put from them the desire of meat and drink, thereafter\nthey fell a weeping as they thought upon their dear companions whom\nScylla had snatched from out the hollow ship and so devoured. And deep\nsleep came upon them amid their weeping. And when it was the third\nwatch of the night, and the stars had crossed the zenith, Zeus the\ncloud-gatherer roused against them an angry wind with wondrous tempest,\nand shrouded in clouds land and sea alike, and from heaven sped down\nthe night. Now when early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, we\nbeached the ship, and dragged it up within a hollow cave, where were\nthe fair dancing grounds of the nymphs and the places of their session.\nThereupon I ordered a gathering of my men and spake in their midst,\nsaying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Friends, forasmuch as there is yet meat and drink in the swift ship,\nlet us keep our hands off those kine, lest some evil thing befal us.\nFor these are the kine and the brave flocks of a dread god, even of\nHelios, who overseeth all and overheareth all things.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and their lordly spirit hearkened thereto. Then for a\nwhole month the South Wind blew without ceasing, and no other wind\narose, save only the East and the South.\n\n\u201cNow so long as my company still had corn and red wine, they refrained\nthem from the kine, for they were fain of life. But when the corn was\nnow all spent from out the ship, and they went wandering with barbed\nhooks in quest of game, as needs they must, fishes and fowls,\nwhatsoever might come to their hand, for hunger gnawed at their belly,\nthen at last I departed up the isle, that I might pray to the gods, if\nperchance some one of them might show me a way of returning. And now\nwhen I had avoided my company on my way through the island, I laved my\nhands where was a shelter from the wind, and prayed to all the gods\nthat hold Olympus. But they shed sweet sleep upon my eyelids. And\nEurylochus the while set forth an evil counsel to my company:\n\n\u201c\u2018Hear my words, my friends, though ye be in evil case. Truly every\nshape of death is hateful to wretched mortals, but to die of hunger and\nso meet doom is most pitiful of all. Nay come, we will drive off the\nbest of the kine of Helios and will do sacrifice to the deathless gods\nwho keep wide heaven. And if we may yet reach Ithaca, our own country,\nforthwith will we rear a rich shrine to Helios Hyperion, and therein\nwould we set many a choice offering. But if he be somewhat wroth for\nhis cattle with straight horns, and is fain to wreck our ship, and the\nother gods follow his desire, rather with one gulp at the wave would I\ncast my life away, than be slowly straitened to death in a desert\nisle.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake Eurylochus, and the rest of the company consented thereto.\nForthwith they drave off the best of the kine of Helios that were nigh\nat hand, for the fair kine of shambling gait and broad of brow were\nfeeding no great way from the dark-prowed ship. Then they stood around\nthe cattle and prayed to the gods, plucking the fresh leaves from an\noak of lofty boughs, for they had no white barley on board the decked\nship. Now after they had prayed and cut the throats of the kine and\nflayed them, they cut out slices of the thighs and wrapped them in the\nfat, making a double fold, and thereon they laid raw flesh. Yet had\nthey no pure wine to pour over the flaming sacrifices, but they made\nlibation with water and roasted the entrails over the fire. Now after\nthe thighs were quite consumed and they had tasted the inner parts,\nthey cut the rest up small and spitted it on spits. In the same hour\ndeep sleep sped from my eyelids and I sallied forth to the swift ship\nand the sea-banks. But on my way as I drew near to the curved ship, the\nsweet savour of the fat came all about me; and I groaned and spake out\nbefore the deathless gods:\n\n\u201c\u2018Father Zeus, and all ye other blessed gods that live for ever, verily\nto my undoing ye have lulled me with a ruthless sleep, and my company\nabiding behind have imagined a monstrous deed.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen swiftly to Helios Hyperion came Lampetie of the long robes, with\nthe tidings that we had slain his kine. And straight he spake with\nangry heart amid the Immortals:\n\n\u201c\u2018Father Zeus, and all ye other blessed gods that live for ever, take\nvengeance I pray you on the company of Odysseus, son of Laertes, that\nhave insolently slain my cattle, wherein I was wont to be glad as I\nwent toward the starry heaven, and when I again turned earthward from\nthe firmament. And if they pay me not full atonement for the cattle, I\nwill go down to Hades and shine among the dead.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him, saying: \u2018Helios, do thou, I\nsay, shine on amidst the deathless gods, and amid mortal men upon the\nearth, the grain-giver. But as for me, I will soon smite their swift\nship with my white bolt, and cleave it in pieces in the midst of the\nwine-dark deep.\u2019\n\n\u201cThis I heard from Calypso of the fair hair; and she said that she\nherself had heard it from Hermes the Messenger.\n\n\u201cBut when I had come down to the ship and to the sea, I went up to my\ncompanions and rebuked them one by one; but we could find no remedy,\nthe cattle were dead and gone. And soon thereafter the gods showed\nforth signs and wonders to my company. The skins were creeping, and the\nflesh bellowing upon the spits, both the roast and raw, and there was a\nsound as the voice of kine.\n\n\u201cThen for six days my dear company feasted on the best of the kine of\nHelios which they had driven off. But when Zeus, son of Cronos, had\nadded the seventh day thereto, thereafter the wind ceased to blow with\na rushing storm, and at once we climbed the ship and launched into the\nbroad deep, when we had set up the mast and hoisted the white sails.\n\n\u201cBut now when we left that isle nor any other land appeared, but sky\nand sea only, even then the son of Cronos stayed a dark cloud above the\nhollow ship, and beneath it the deep darkened. And the ship ran on her\nway for no long while, for of a sudden came the shrilling West, with\nthe rushing of a great tempest, and the blast of wind snapped the two\nforestays of the mast, and the mast fell backward and all the gear\ndropped into the bilge. And behold, on the hind part of the ship the\nmast struck the head of the pilot and brake all the bones of his skull\ntogether, and like a diver he dropt down from the deck, and his brave\nspirit left his bones. In that same hour Zeus thundered and cast his\nbolt upon the ship, and she reeled all over being stricken by the bolt\nof Zeus, and was filled with sulphur, and lo, my company fell from out\nthe vessel. Like sea-gulls they were borne round the black ship upon\nthe billows, and the god reft them of returning.\n\n\u201cBut I kept pacing through my ship, till the surge loosened the sides\nfrom the keel, and the wave swept her along stript of her tackling, and\nbrake her mast clean off at the keel. Now the backstay fashioned of an\noxhide had been flung thereon; therewith I lashed together both keel\nand mast, and sitting thereon I was borne by the ruinous winds.\n\n\u201cThen verily the West Wind ceased to blow with a rushing storm, and\nswiftly withal the South Wind came, bringing sorrow to my soul, that so\nI might again measure back that space of sea, the way to deadly\nCharybdis. All the night was I borne, but with the rising of the sun I\ncame to the rock of Scylla, and to dread Charybdis. Now she had sucked\ndown her salt sea water, when I was swung up on high to the tall\nfig-tree whereto I clung like a bat, and could find no sure rest for my\nfeet nor place to stand, for the roots spread far below and the\nbranches hung aloft out of reach, long and large, and overshadowed\nCharybdis. Steadfast I clung till she should spew forth mast and keel\nagain; and late they came to my desire. At the hour when a man rises up\nfrom the assembly and goes to supper, one who judges the many quarrels\nof the young men that seek to him for law, at that same hour those\ntimbers came forth to view from out Charybdis. And I let myself drop\ndown hands and feet, and plunged heavily in the midst of the waters\nbeyond the long timbers, and sitting on these I rowed hard with my\nhands. But the father of gods and of men suffered me no more to behold\nScylla, else I should never have escaped from utter doom.\n\n\u201cThence for nine days was I borne, and on the tenth night the gods\nbrought me nigh to the isle of Ogygia, where dwells Calypso of the\nbraided tresses, an awful goddess of mortal speech, who took me in and\nentreated me kindly. But why rehearse all this tale? For even yesterday\nI told it to thee and to thy noble wife in thy house; and it liketh me\nnot twice to tell a plain-told tale.\u201d\n\n\n\nBOOK XIII.\n\n\nOdysseus, sleeping, is set ashore at Ithaca by the Phaeacians, and\nwaking knows it not. Pallas, in the form of a shepherd, helps to hide\nhis treasure. The ship that conveyed him is turned into a rock, and\nOdysseus by Pallas is instructed what to do, and transformed into an\nold beggarman.\n\n\nSo spake he, and dead silence fell on all, and they were spell-bound\nthroughout the shadowy halls. Thereupon Alcinous answered him, and\nspake, saying:\n\n\u201cOdysseus, now that thou hast come to my high house with floor of\nbronze, never, methinks, shalt thou be driven from thy way ere thou\nreturnest, though thou hast been sore afflicted. And for each man among\nyou, that in these halls of mine drink evermore the dark wine of the\nelders, and hearken to the minstrel, this is my word and command.\nGarments for the stranger are already laid up in a polished coffer,\nwith gold curiously wrought, and all other such gifts as the\ncounsellors of the Phaeacians bare hither. Come now, let us each of us\ngive him a great tripod and a cauldron, and we in turn will gather\ngoods among the people and get us recompense; for it were hard that one\nman should give without repayment.\u201d\n\nSo spake Alcinous, and the saying pleased them well. Then they went\neach one to his house to lay him down to rest; but so soon as early\nDawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, they hasted to the ship and bare\nthe bronze, the joy of men. And the mighty king Alcinous himself went\nabout the ship and diligently bestowed the gifts beneath the benches,\nthat they might not hinder any of the crew in their rowing, when they\nlaboured at their oars. Then they betook them to the house of Alcinous\nand fell to feasting. And the mighty king Alcinous sacrificed before\nthem an ox to Zeus, the son of Cronos, that dwells in the dark clouds,\nwho is lord of all. And when they had burnt the pieces of the thighs,\nthey shared the glorious feast and made merry, and among them harped\nthe divine minstrel Demodocus, whom the people honoured. But Odysseus\nwould ever turn his head toward the splendour of the sun, as one fain\nto hasten his setting: for verily he was most eager to return. And as\nwhen a man longs for his supper, for whom all day long two dark oxen\ndrag through the fallow field the jointed plough, yea and welcome to\nsuch an one the sunlight sinketh, that so he may get him to supper, for\nhis knees wax faint by the way, even so welcome was the sinking of the\nsunlight to Odysseus. Then straight he spake among the Phaeacians,\nmasters of the oar, and to Alcinous in chief he made known his word,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cMy lord Alcinous, most notable of all the people, pour ye the drink\noffering, and send me safe upon my way, and as for you, fare ye well.\nFor now have I all that my heart desired, an escort and loving gifts.\nMay the gods of heaven give me good fortune with them, and may I find\nmy noble wife in my home with my friends unharmed, while ye, for your\npart, abide here and make glad your wedded wives and children; and may\nthe gods vouchsafe all manner of good, and may no evil come nigh the\npeople!\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and they all consented thereto and bade send the stranger\non his way, in that he had spoken aright. Then the mighty Alcinous\nspake to the henchman: \u201cPontonous, mix the bowl and serve out the wine\nto all in the hall, that we may pray to Father Zeus, and send the\nstranger on his way to his own country.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine, and served it\nto all in turn. And they poured forth before the blessed gods that keep\nwide heaven, even there as they sat. Then goodly Odysseus uprose, and\nplaced in Arete\u2019s hand the two-handled cup, and uttering his voice\nspake to her winged words:\n\n\u201cFare thee well, O queen, all the days of thy life, till old age come\nand death, that visit all mankind. But I go homeward, and do thou in\nthis thy house rejoice in thy children and thy people and Alcinous the\nking.\u201d\n\nTherewith goodly Odysseus stept over the threshold. And with him the\nmighty Alcinous sent forth a henchman to guide him to the swift ship\nand the sea-banks. And Arete sent in this train certain maidens of her\nhousehold, one bearing a fresh robe and a doublet, and another she\njoined to them to carry the strong coffer, and yet another bare bread\nand red wine. Now when they had come down to the ship and to the sea,\nstraightway the good men of the escort took these things and laid them\nby in the hollow ship, even all the meat and drink. Then they strewed\nfor Odysseus a rug and a sheet of linen, on the decks of the hollow\nship, in the hinder part thereof, that he might sleep sound. Then he\ntoo climbed aboard and laid him down in silence, while they sat upon\nthe benches, every man in order, and unbound the hawser from the\npierced stone. So soon as they leant backwards and tossed the sea water\nwith the oar blade, a deep sleep fell upon his eyelids, a sound sleep,\nvery sweet, and next akin to death. And even as on a plain a yoke of\nfour stallions comes springing all together beneath the lash, leaping\nhigh and speedily accomplishing the way, so leaped the stern of that\nship, and the dark wave of the sounding sea rushed mightily in the\nwake, and she ran ever surely on her way, nor could a circling hawk\nkeep pace with her, of winged things the swiftest. Even thus she\nlightly sped and cleft the waves of the sea, bearing a man whose\ncounsel was as the counsel of the gods, one that erewhile had suffered\nmuch sorrow of heart, in passing through the wars of men, and the\ngrievous waves; but for that time he slept in peace, forgetful of all\nthat he had suffered.\n\nSo when the star came up, that is brightest of all, and goes ever\nheralding the light of early Dawn, even then did the seafaring ship\ndraw nigh the island. There is in the land of Ithaca a certain haven of\nPhorcys, the ancient one of the sea, and thereby are two headlands of\nsheer cliff, which slope to the sea on the haven\u2019s side and break the\nmighty wave that ill winds roll without, but within, the decked ships\nride unmoored when once they have reached the place of anchorage. Now\nat the harbour\u2019s head is a long-leaved olive tree, and hard by is a\npleasant cave and shadowy, sacred to the nymphs, that are called the\nNaiads. And therein are mixing bowls and jars of stone, and there\nmoreover do bees hive. And there are great looms of stone, whereon the\nnymphs weave raiment of purple stain, a marvel to behold, and therein\nare waters welling evermore. Two gates there are to the cave, the one\nset toward the North Wind whereby men may go down, but the portals\ntoward the South pertain rather to the gods, whereby men may not enter:\nit is the way of the immortals.\n\nThither they, as having knowledge of that place, let drive their ship;\nand now the vessel in full course ran ashore, half her keel\u2019s length\nhigh; so well was she sped by the hands of the oarsmen. Then they\nalighted from the benched ship upon the land, and first they lifted\nOdysseus from out the hollow ship, all as he was in the sheet of linen\nand the bright rug, and laid him yet heavy with slumber on the sand.\nAnd they took forth the goods which the lordly Phaeacians had given him\non his homeward way by grace of the great-hearted Athene. These they\nset in a heap by the trunk of the olive tree, a little aside from the\nroad, lest some wayfaring man, before Odysseus awakened, should come\nand spoil them. Then themselves departed homeward again. But the shaker\nof the earth forgat not the threats, wherewith at the first he had\nthreatened god like Odysseus, and he inquired into the counsel of Zeus,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cFather Zeus, I for one shall no longer be of worship among the\ndeathless gods, when mortal men hold me in no regard, even Phaeacians,\nwho moreover are of mine own lineage. Lo, now I said that after much\naffliction Odysseus should come home, for I had no mind to rob him\nutterly of his return, when once thou hadst promised it and given\nassent; but behold, in his sleep they have borne him in a swift ship\nover the sea, and set him down in Ithaca, and given him gifts out of\nmeasure, bronze and gold in plenty and woven raiment, much store, such\nas never would Odysseus have won for himself out of Troy; yea, though\nhe had returned unhurt with the share of the spoil that fell to him.\u201d\n\nAnd Zeus, the cloud gatherer, answered him saying: \u201cLo, now, shaker of\nthe earth, of widest power, what a word hast thou spoken! The gods\nnowise dishonour thee; hard would it be to assail with dishonour our\neldest and our best. But if any man, giving place to his own hardihood\nand strength, holds thee not in worship, thou hast always thy revenge\nfor the same, even in the time to come. Do thou as thou wilt, and as\nseems thee good.\u201d\n\nThen Poseidon, shaker of the earth, answered him: \u201cStraightway would I\ndo even as thou sayest, O god of the dark clouds; but thy wrath I\nalways hold in awe and avoid. Howbeit, now I fain would smite a fair\nship of the Phaeacians, as she comes home from a convoy on the misty\ndeep, that thereby they may learn to hold their hands, and cease from\ngiving escort to men; and I would overshadow their city with a great\nmountain.\u201d\n\nAnd Zeus the gatherer of the clouds, answered him, saying: \u201cFriend,\nlearn now what seems best in my sight. At an hour when the folk are all\nlooking forth from the city at the ship upon her way, smite her into a\nstone hard by the land; a stone in the likeness of a swift ship, that\nall mankind may marvel, and do thou overshadow their city with a great\nmountain.\u201d\n\nNow when Poseidon, shaker of the earth, heard this saying, he went on\nhis way to Scheria, where the Phaeacians dwell. There he abode awhile;\nand lo, she drew near, the seafaring ship, lightly sped upon her way.\nThen nigh her came the shaker of the earth, and he smote her into a\nstone, and rooted her far below with the down-stroke of his hand; and\nhe departed thence again.\n\nThen one to the other they spake winged words, the Phaeacians of the\nlong oars, mariners renowned. And thus would they speak, looking each\nman to his neighbour:\n\n\u201cAh me! who is this that fettered our swift ship on the deep as she\ndrave homewards? Even now she stood full in sight.\u201d\n\nEven so they would speak; but they knew not how these things were\nordained. And Alcinous made harangue and spake among them:\n\n\u201cLo now, in very truth the ancient oracles of my father have come home\nto me. He was wont to say that Poseidon was jealous of us, for that we\ngive safe escort to all men. He said that the day would come when the\ngod would smite a fair ship of the Phaeacians, as she came home from a\nconvoy on the misty deep, and overshadow our city with a great\nmountain. Thus that ancient one would speak; and lo, all these things\nnow have an end. But come, let us all give ear and do according to my\nword. Cease ye from the convoy of mortals, whensoever any shall come\nunto our town, and let us sacrifice to Poseidon twelve choice bulls, if\nperchance he may take pity, neither overshadow our city with a great\nmountain.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and they were dismayed and got ready the bulls. Thus were\nthey praying to the lord Poseidon, the princes and counsellors of the\nland of the Phaeacians, as they stood about the altar.\n\nEven then the goodly Odysseus awoke where he slept on his native land;\nnor knew he the same again, having now been long afar, for around him\nthe goddess had shed a mist, even Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, to\nthe end that she might make him undiscovered for that he was, and might\nexpound to him all things, that so his wife should not know him neither\nhis townsmen and kinsfolk, ere the wooers had paid for all their\ntransgressions. Wherefore each thing showed strange to the lord of the\nland, the long paths and the sheltering havens and the steep rocks and\nthe trees in their bloom. So he started up, and stood and looked upon\nhis native land, and then he made moan withal, and smote on both his\nthighs with the down-stroke of his hands, and making lament, he spake,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cOh, woe is me, unto what mortals\u2019 land am I now come? Say, are they\nfroward, and wild, and unjust, or hospitable and of a god-fearing mind?\nWhither do I bear all this treasure? Yea, where am I wandering myself?\nOh that the treasure had remained with the Phaeacians where it was, so\nhad I come to some other of the mighty princes, who would have\nentreated me kindly and sent me on my way. But now I know not where to\nbestow these things, nor yet will I leave them here behind, lest haply\nother men make spoil of them. Ah then, they are not wholly wise or\njust, the princes and counsellors of the Phaeacians, who carried me to\na strange land. Verily they promised to bring me to clear-seen Ithaca,\nbut they performed it not. May Zeus requite them, the god of\nsuppliants, seeing that he watches over all men and punishes the\ntransgressor! But come, I will reckon up these goods and look to them,\nlest the men be gone, and have taken aught away upon their hollow\nship.\u201d\n\nTherewith he set to number the fair tripods and the cauldrons and the\ngold and the goodly woven raiment; and of all these he lacked not\naught, but he bewailed him for his own country, as he walked downcast\nby the shore of the sounding sea, and made sore lament. Then Athene\ncame nigh him in the guise of a young man, the herdsman of a flock, a\nyoung man most delicate, such as are the sons of kings. And she had a\nwell-wrought mantle that fell in two folds about her shoulders, and\nbeneath her smooth feet she had sandals bound, and a javelin in her\nhands. And Odysseus rejoiced as he saw her, and came over against her,\nand uttering his voice spake to her winged words:\n\n\u201cFriend, since thou art the first that I have chanced on in this land,\nhail to thee, and with no ill-will mayest thou meet me! Nay, save this\nmy substance and save me too, for to thee as to a god I make prayer,\nand to thy dear knees have I come. And herein tell me true, that I may\nsurely know. What land, what people is this? what men dwell therein?\nSurely, methinks, it is some clear seen isle, or a shore of the rich\nmainland that lies and leans upon the deep.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake to him again: \u201cThou art\nwitless, stranger, or thou art come from afar, if indeed thou askest of\nthis land; nay, it is not so very nameless but that many men know it,\nboth all those who dwell toward the dawning and the sun, and they that\nabide over against the light toward the shadowy west. Verily it is\nrough and not fit for the driving of horses, yet is it not a very sorry\nisle, though narrow withal. For herein is corn past telling, and herein\ntoo wine is found, and the rain is on it evermore, and the fresh dew.\nAnd it is good for feeding goats and feeding kine; all manner of wood\nis here, and watering-places unfailing are herein. Wherefore, stranger,\nthe name of Ithaca hath reached even unto Troy-land, which men say is\nfar from this Achaean shore.\u201d\n\nSo spake she, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus was glad, and had joy\nin his own country, according to the word of Pallas Athene, daughter of\nZeus, lord of the aegis. And he uttered his voice and spake unto her\nwinged words; yet he did not speak the truth, but took back the word\nthat was on his lips, for quick and crafty was his wit within his\nbreast:\n\n\u201cOf Ithaca have I heard tell, even in broad Crete, far over the seas;\nand now have I come hither myself with these my goods. And I left as\nmuch again to my children, when I turned outlaw for the slaying of the\ndear son of Idomeneus, Orsilochus, swift of foot, who in wide Crete was\nthe swiftest of all men that live by bread. Now he would have despoiled\nme of all that booty of Troy, for the which I had endured pain of\nheart, in passing through the wars of men, and the grievous waves of\nthe sea, for this cause that I would not do a favour to his father, and\nmake me his squire in the land of the Trojans, but commanded other\nfellowship of mine own. So I smote him with a bronze-shod spear as he\ncame home from the field, lying in ambush for him by the wayside, with\none of my companions. And dark midnight held the heavens, and no man\nmarked us, but privily I took his life away. Now after I had slain him\nwith the sharp spear, straightway I went to a ship and besought the\nlordly Phoenicians, and gave them spoil to their hearts\u2019 desire. I\ncharged them to take me on board, and land me at Pylos or at goodly\nElis where the Epeans bear rule. Howbeit of a truth, the might of the\nwind drave them out of their course, sore against their will, nor did\nthey wilfully play me false. Thence we were driven wandering, and came\nhither by night. And with much ado we rowed onward into harbour, nor\ntook we any thought of supper, though we stood sore in need thereof,\nbut even as we were we stept ashore and all lay down. Then over me\nthere came sweet slumber in my weariness, but they took forth my goods\nfrom the hollow ship, and set them by me where I myself lay upon the\nsands. Then they went on board, and departed for the fair-lying land of\nSidon; while as for me I was left stricken at heart.\u201d\n\nSo spake he and the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, smiled, and caressed him\nwith her hand; and straightway she changed to the semblance of a woman,\nfair and tall, and skilled in splendid handiwork. And uttering her\nvoice she spake unto him winged words:\n\n\u201cCrafty must he be, and knavish, who would outdo thee in all manner of\nguile, even if it were a god encountered thee. Hardy man, subtle of\nwit, of guile insatiate, so thou wast not even in thine own country to\ncease from thy sleights and knavish words, which thou lovest from the\nbottom of thine heart! But come, no more let us tell of these things,\nbeing both of us practised in deceits, for that thou art of all men far\nthe first in counsel and in discourse, and I in the company of all the\ngods win renown for my wit and wile. Yet thou knewest not me, Pallas\nAthene, daughter of Zeus, who am always by thee and guard thee in all\nadventures. Yea, and I made thee to be beloved of all the Phaeacians.\nAnd now am I come hither to contrive a plot with thee and to hide away\nthe goods, that by my counsel and design the noble Phaeacians gave thee\non thy homeward way. And I would tell thee how great a measure of\ntrouble thou art ordained to fulfil within thy well-builded house. But\ndo thou harden thy heart, for so it must be, and tell none neither man\nnor woman of all the folk, that thou hast indeed returned from\nwandering, but in silence endure much sorrow, submitting thee to the\ndespite of men.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cHard is it,\ngoddess, for a mortal man that meets thee to discern thee, howsoever\nwise he be; for thou takest upon thee every shape. But this I know\nwell, that of old thou wast kindly to me, so long as we sons of the\nAchaeans made war in Troy. But so soon as we had sacked the steep city\nof Priam and had gone on board our ships, and the god had scattered the\nAchaeans, thereafter I have never beheld thee, daughter of Zeus, nor\nseen thee coming on board my ship, to ward off sorrow from me\u2014but I\nwandered evermore with a stricken heart, till the gods delivered me\nfrom my evil case\u2014even till the day when, within the fat land of the\nmen of Phaeacia, thou didst comfort me with thy words, and thyself\ndidst lead me to their city. And now I beseech thee in thy father\u2019s\nname to tell me: for I deem not that I am come to clear-seen Ithaca,\nbut I roam over some other land, and methinks that thou speakest thus\nto mock me and beguile my mind. Tell me whether in very deed I am come\nto mine own dear country.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him: \u201cYea, such a thought\nas this is ever in thy breast. Wherefore I may in no wise leave thee in\nthy grief, so courteous art thou, so ready of wit and so prudent. Right\ngladly would any other man on his return from wandering have hasted to\nbehold his children and his wife in his halls; but thou hast no will to\nlearn or to hear aught, till thou hast furthermore made trial of thy\nwife, who sits as ever in her halls, and wearily for her the nights\nwane always and the days, in shedding of tears. But of this I never\ndoubted, but ever knew it in my heart that thou wouldest come home with\nthe loss of all thy company. Yet, I tell thee, I had no mind to be at\nstrife with Poseidon, my own father\u2019s brother, who laid up wrath in his\nheart against thee, being angered at the blinding of his dear son. But\ncome, and I will show thee the place of the dwelling of Ithaca, that\nthou mayst be assured. Lo, here is the haven of Phorcys, the ancient\none of the sea, and here at the haven\u2019s head is the olive tree with\nspreading leaves, and hard by it is the pleasant cave and shadowy,\nsacred to the nymphs that are called the Naiads. Yonder, behold, is the\nroofed cavern, where thou offeredst many an acceptable sacrifice of\nhecatombs to the nymphs; and lo, this hill is Neriton, all clothed in\nforest.\u201d\n\nTherewith the goddess scattered the mist, and the land appeared. Then\nthe steadfast goodly Odysseus was glad rejoicing in his own land, and\nhe kissed the earth, the grain-giver. And anon he prayed to the nymphs,\nand lifted up his hands, saying:\n\n\u201cYe Naiad nymphs, daughters of Zeus, never did I think to look on you\nagain, but now be ye greeted in my loving prayers: yea, and gifts as\naforetime I will give, if the daughter of Zeus, driver of the spoil,\nsuffer me of her grace myself to live, and bring my dear son to\nmanhood.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake to him again: \u201cBe of good\ncourage, and let not thy heart be careful about these things. But come,\nlet us straightway set thy goods in the secret place of the wondrous\ncave, that there they may abide for thee safe. And let us for ourselves\nadvise us how all may be for the very best.\u201d\n\nTherewith the goddess plunged into the shadowy cave, searching out the\nchambers of the cavern. Meanwhile Odysseus brought up his treasure, the\ngold and the unyielding bronze and fair woven raiment, which the\nPhaeacians gave him. And these things he laid by with care, and Pallas\nAthene, daughter of Zeus, lord of the aegis, set a stone against the\ndoor of the cave. Then they twain sat down by the trunk of the sacred\nolive tree, and devised death for the froward wooers. And the goddess,\ngrey-eyed Athene, spake first, saying:\n\n\u201cSon of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, advise\nthee how thou mayest stretch forth thine hands upon the shameless\nwooers, who now these three years lord it through thy halls, as they\nwoo thy godlike wife and proffer the gifts of wooing. And she, that is\never bewailing her for thy return, gives hope to all and makes promises\nto every man and sends them messages, but her mind is set on other\nthings.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered her, saying:\n\n\u201cLo now, in very truth I was like to have perished in my halls by the\nevil doom of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, hadst not thou, goddess,\ndeclared me each thing aright. Come then, weave some counsel whereby I\nmay requite them; and thyself stand by me, and put great boldness of\nspirit within me, even as in the day when we loosed the shining coronal\nof Troy. If but thou wouldest stand by me with such eagerness, thou\ngrey-eyed goddess, I would war even with three hundred men, with thee\nmy lady and goddess, if thou of thy grace didst succour me the while.\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him: \u201cYea, verily I will\nbe near thee nor will I forget thee, whensoever we come to this toil:\nand methinks that certain of the wooers that devour thy livelihood\nshall bespatter the boundless earth with blood and brains. But come, I\nwill make thee such-like that no man shall know thee. Thy fair skin I\nwill wither on thy supple limbs, and make waste thy yellow hair from\noff thy head, and wrap thee in a foul garment, such that one would\nshudder to see a man therein.[24] And I will dim thy two eyes, erewhile\nso fair, in such wise that thou mayest be unseemly in the sight of all\nthe wooers and of thy wife and son, whom thou didst leave in thy halls.\nAnd do thou thyself first of all go unto the swineherd, who tends thy\nswine, loyal and at one with thee, and loves thy son and constant\nPenelope. Him shalt thou find sitting by the swine, as they are feeding\nnear the rock of Corax and the spring Arethusa, and there they eat\nabundance of acorns and drink the black water, things whereby swine\ngrow fat and well-liking. There do thou abide and sit by the swine, and\nfind out all, till I have gone to Sparta, the land of fair women, to\ncall Telemachus thy dear son, Odysseus, who hath betaken himself to\nspacious Lacedaemon, to the house of Menelaus to seek tidings of thee,\nwhether haply thou are yet alive.\u201d\n\n [24] Reading \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd, not \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cNay, wherefore then\ndidst thou not tell him, seeing thou hast knowledge of all? Was it,\nperchance, that he too may wander in sorrow over the unharvested seas,\nand that others may consume his livelihood?\u201d\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him: \u201cNay, let him not be\nheavy on thy heart. I myself was his guide, that by going thither he\nmight win a good report. Lo, he knows no toil, but he sits in peace in\nthe palace of the son of Atreus, and has boundless store about him.\nTruly the young men with their black ship they lie in wait, and are\neager to slay him ere he come to his own country. But this, methinks,\nshall never be. Yea, sooner shall the earth close over certain of the\nwooers that devour thy livelihood.\u201d\n\nTherewith Athene touched him with her wand. His fair flesh she withered\non his supple limbs, and made waste his yellow hair from off his head,\nand over all his limbs she cast the skin of an old man, and dimmed his\ntwo eyes, erewhile so fair. And she changed his raiment to a vile wrap\nand a doublet, torn garments and filthy, stained with foul smoke. And\nover all she clad him with the great bald hide of a swift stag, and she\ngave him a staff and a mean tattered scrip, and a cord therewith to\nhang it.\n\nAnd after they twain had taken this counsel together, they parted; and\nshe now went to goodly Lacedaemon to fetch the son of Odysseus.\n\n\n\nBOOK XIV.\n\n\nOdysseus, in the form of a beggar, goes to Eumaeus, the master of his\nswine, where he is well used and tells a feigned story, and informs\nhimself of the behaviour of the wooers.\n\n\nBut Odysseus fared forth from the haven by the rough track, up the\nwooded country and through the heights, where Athene had showed him\nthat he should find the goodly swineherd, who cared most for his\nsubstance of all the thralls that goodly Odysseus had gotten.\n\nNow he found him sitting at the vestibule of the house, where his\ncourtyard was builded high, in a place with wide prospect; a great\ncourt it was and a fair, with free range round it. This the swineherd\nhad builded by himself for the swine of his lord who was afar, and his\nmistress and the old man Laertes knew not of it. With stones from the\nquarry had he builded it, and coped it with a fence of white thorn, and\nhe had split an oak to the dark core, and without he had driven stakes\nthe whole length thereof on either side, set thick and close; and\nwithin the courtyard he made twelve styes hard by one another to be\nbeds for the swine, and in each stye fifty grovelling swine were\npenned, brood swine; but the boars slept without. Now these were far\nfewer in number, the godlike wooers minishing them at their feasts, for\nthe swineherd ever sent in the best of all the fatted hogs. And their\ntale was three hundred and three-score. And by them always slept four\ndogs, as fierce as wild beasts, which the swineherd had bred, a master\nof men. Now he was fitting sandals to his feet, cutting a good brown\noxhide, while the rest of his fellows, three in all, were abroad this\nway and that, with the droves of swine; while the fourth he had sent to\nthe city to take a boar to the proud wooers, as needs he must, that\nthey might sacrifice it and satisfy their soul with flesh.\n\nAnd of a sudden the baying dogs saw Odysseus, and they ran at him\nyelping, but Odysseus in his wariness sat him down, and let the staff\nfall from his hand. There by his own homestead would he have suffered\nfoul hurt, but the swineherd with quick feet hasted after them, and\nsped through the outer door, and let the skin fall from his hand. And\nthe hounds he chid and drave them this way and that, with a shower of\nstones, and he spake unto his lord, saying:\n\n\u201cOld man, truly the dogs went nigh to be the death of thee all of a\nsudden, so shouldest thou have brought shame on me. Yea, and the gods\nhave given me other pains and griefs enough. Here I sit, mourning and\nsorrowing for my godlike lord, and foster the fat swine for others to\neat, while he craving, perchance, for food, wanders over some land and\ncity of men of a strange speech, if haply he yet lives and beholds the\nsunlight. But come with me, let us to the inner steading, old man, that\nwhen thy heart is satisfied with bread and wine, thou too mayest tell\nthy tale and declare whence thou art, and how many woes thou hast\nendured.\u201d\n\nTherewith the goodly swineherd led him to the steading, and took him in\nand set him down, and strewed beneath him thick brushwood, and spread\nthereon the hide of a shaggy wild goat, wide and soft, which served\nhimself for a mattress. And Odysseus rejoiced that he had given him\nsuch welcome, and spake and hailed him:\n\n\u201cMay Zeus, O stranger, and all the other deathless gods grant thee thy\ndearest wish, since thou hast received me heartily!\u201d\n\nThen, O swineherd Eumaeus, didst thou answer him, saying: \u201cGuest of\nmine, it were an impious thing for me to slight a stranger, even if\nthere came a meaner man than thou; for from Zeus are all strangers and\nbeggars; and a little gift from such as we, is dear; for this is the\nway with thralls, who are ever in fear when young lords like ours bear\nrule over them. For surely the gods have stayed the returning of my\nmaster, who would have loved me diligently, and given me somewhat of my\nown, a house and a parcel of ground, and a comely[25] wife, such as a\nkind lord gives to his man, who hath laboured much for him and the work\nof whose hands God hath likewise increased, even as he increaseth this\nwork of mine whereat I abide. Therefore would my lord have rewarded me\ngreatly, had he grown old at home. But he hath perished, as I would\nthat all the stock of Helen had perished utterly, forasmuch as she hath\ncaused the loosening of many a man\u2019s knees. For he too departed to\nIlios of the goodly steeds, to get atonement for Agamemnon, that so he\nmight war with the Trojans.\u201d\n\n [25] Reading \u1f10\u03cd\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03cc\u03bd.\n\n\nTherewith he quickly bound up his doublet with his girdle, and went his\nway to the styes, where the tribes of the swine were penned. Thence he\ntook and brought forth two, and sacrificed them both, and singed them\nand cut them small, and spitted them. And when he had roasted all, he\nbare and set it by Odysseus, all hot as it was upon the spits, and he\nsprinkled thereupon white barley-meal. Then in a bowl of ivywood he\nmixed the honey-sweet wine, and himself sat over against him and bade\nhim fall to:\n\n\u201cEat now, stranger, such fare as thralls have to hand, even flesh of\nsucking pigs; but the fatted hogs the wooers devour, for they know not\nthe wrath of the gods nor any pity. Verily the blessed gods love not\nfroward deeds, but they reverence justice and the righteous acts of\nmen. Yet even foes and men unfriendly, that land on a strange coast,\nand Zeus grants them a prey, and they have laden their ships and depart\nfor home; yea, even on their hearts falls strong fear of the wrath of\nthe gods. But lo you, these men know somewhat,\u2014for they have heard an\nutterance of a god\u2014, even the tidings of our lord\u2019s evil end, seeing\nthat they are not minded justly to woo, nor to go back to their own,\nbut at ease they devour our wealth with insolence, and now there is no\nsparing. For every day and every night that comes from Zeus, they make\nsacrifice not of one victim only, nor of two, and wine they draw and\nwaste it riotously. For surely his livelihood was great past telling,\nno lord in the dark mainland had so much, nor any in Ithaca itself;\nnay, not twenty men together have wealth so great, and I will tell thee\nthe sum thereof. Twelve herds of kine upon the mainland, as many flocks\nof sheep, as many droves of swine, as many ranging herds of goats, that\nhis own shepherds and strangers pasture. And ranging herds of goats,\neleven in all, graze here by the extremity of the island with trusty\nmen to watch them. And day by day each man of these ever drives one of\nthe flock to the wooers, whichsoever seems the best of the fatted\ngoats. But as for me I guard and keep these swine and I choose out for\nthem, as well as I may, the best of the swine and send it hence.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, but Odysseus ceased not to eat flesh and drink wine right\neagerly and in silence, and the while was sowing the seeds of evil for\nthe wooers. Now when he had well eaten and comforted his heart with\nfood, then the herdsman filled him the bowl out of which he was wont\nhimself to drink, and he gave it him brimming with wine, and he took it\nand was glad at heart, and uttering his voice spake to him winged\nwords:\n\n\u201cMy friend, who was it then that bought thee with his wealth, a man so\nexceedingly rich and mighty as thou declarest? Thou saidest that he\nperished to get atonement for Agamemnon; tell me, if perchance I may\nknow him, being such an one as thou sayest. For Zeus, methinks, and the\nother deathless gods know whether I may bring tidings of having seen\nhim; for I have wandered far.\u201d\n\nThen the swineherd, a master of men, answered him: \u201cOld man, no\nwanderer who may come hither and bring tidings of him can win the ear\nof his wife and his dear son; but lightly do vagrants lie when they\nneed entertainment, and care not to tell truth. Whosoever comes\nstraying to the land of Ithaca, goes to my mistress and speaks words of\nguile. And she receives him kindly and lovingly and inquires of all\nthings, and the tears fall from her eyelids for weeping, as is meet for\na woman when her lord hath died afar. And quickly enough wouldst thou\ntoo, old man, forge a tale, if any would but give thee a mantle and a\ndoublet for raiment. But as for him, dogs and swift fowls are like\nalready to have torn his skin from the bones, and his spirit hath left\nhim. Or the fishes have eaten him in the deep, and there lie his bones\nswathed in sand-drift on the shore. Yonder then hath he perished, but\nfor his friends nought is ordained but care, for all, but for me in\nchief. For never again shall I find a lord so gentle, how far soever I\nmay go, not though again I attain unto the house of my father and my\nmother, where at first I was born, and they nourished me themselves and\nwith their own hands they reared me. Nor henceforth it is not for these\nthat I sorrow so much, though I long to behold them with mine eyes in\nmine own country, but desire comes over me for Odysseus who is afar.\nHis name, stranger, even though he is not here, it shameth me to speak,\nfor he loved me exceedingly, and cared for me at heart; nay, I call him\n\u2018worshipful,\u2019 albeit he is far hence.\u201d\n\nThen the steadfast goodly Odysseus spake to him again: \u201cMy friend,\nforasmuch as thou gainsayest utterly, and sayest that henceforth he\nwill not come again, and thine heart is ever slow to believe, therefore\nwill I tell thee not lightly but with an oath, that Odysseus shall\nreturn. And let me have the wages of good tidings as soon as ever he in\nhis journeying shall come hither to his home. Then clothe me in a\nmantle and a doublet, goodly raiment. But ere that, albeit I am sore in\nneed I will not take aught, for hateful to me even as the gates of\nhell, is that man, who under stress of poverty speaks words of guile.\nNow be Zeus my witness before any god, and the hospitable board and the\nhearth of noble Odysseus whereunto I am come, that all these things\nshall surely be accomplished even as I tell thee. In this same year\nOdysseus shall come hither; as the old moon wanes and the new is born\nshall he return to his home, and shall take vengeance on all who here\ndishonour his wife and noble son.\u201d\n\nThen didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cOld man, it is not I\nthen, that shall ever pay thee these wages of good tidings, nor\nhenceforth shall Odysseus ever come to his home. Nay drink in peace,\nand let us turn our thoughts to other matters, and bring not these to\nmy remembrance, for surely my heart within me is sorrowful whenever any\nman puts me in mind of my true lord. But as for thine oath, we will let\nit go by; yet, oh that Odysseus may come according to my desire, and\nthe desire of Penelope and of that old man Laertes and godlike\nTelemachus! But now I make a comfortless lament for the boy begotten of\nOdysseus, even for Telemachus. When the gods had reared him like a\nyoung sapling, and I thought that he would be no worse man among men\nthan his dear father, glorious in form and face, some god or some man\nmarred his good wits within him, and he went to fair Pylos after\ntidings of his sire. And now the lordly wooers lie in wait for him on\nhis way home, that the race of godlike Arceisius may perish nameless\nout of Ithaca. Howbeit, no more of him now, whether he shall be taken\nor whether he shall escape, and Cronion stretch out his hand to shield\nhim. But come, old man, do thou tell me of thine own troubles. And\nherein tell me true, that I may surely know. Who art thou of the sons\nof men, and whence? Where is thy city, where are they that begat thee?\nSay on what manner of ship didst thou come, and how did sailors bring\nthee to Ithaca, and who did they avow them to be? For in nowise do I\ndeem that thou camest hither by land.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cYea now, I will\ntell thee all most plainly. Might we have food and sweet wine enough to\nlast for long, while we abide within thy hut to feast thereon in quiet,\nand others betake them to their work; then could I easily speak for a\nwhole year, nor yet make a full end of telling all the troubles of my\nspirit, all the travail I have wrought by the will of the gods.\n\n\u201cI avow that I come by lineage from wide Crete, and am the son of a\nwealthy man. And many other sons he had born and bred in the halls,\nlawful born of a wedded wife; but the mother that bare me was a\nconcubine bought with a price. Yet Castor son of Hylax, of whose blood\nI avow me to be, gave me no less honour than his lawful sons. Now he at\nthe time got worship even as a god from the Cretans in the land, for\nwealth and riches and sons renowned. Howbeit the fates of death bare\nhim away to the house of Hades, and his gallant sons divided among them\nhis living and cast lots for it. But to me they gave a very small gift\nand assigned me a dwelling, and I took unto me a wife, the daughter of\nmen that had wide lands, by reason of my valour, for that I was no\nweakling nor a dastard; but now all my might has failed me, yet even so\nI deem that thou mightest guess from seeing the stubble what the grain\nhas been, for of trouble I have plenty and to spare. But then verily\ndid Ares and Athene give me boldness and courage to hurl through the\npress of men, whensoever I chose the best warriors for an ambush,\nsowing the seeds of evil for my foes; no boding of death was ever in my\nlordly heart, but I would leap out the foremost and slay with the spear\nwhoso of my foes was less fleet of foot than I. Such an one was I in\nwar, but the labour of the field I never loved, nor home-keeping\nthrift, that breeds brave children, but galleys with their oars were\ndear to me, and wars and polished shafts and darts\u2014baneful things\nwhereat others use to shudder. But that, methinks, was dear to me which\nthe god put in my heart, for divers men take delight in divers deeds.\nFor ere ever the sons of the Achaeans had set foot on the land of Troy,\nI had nine times been a leader of men and of swift-faring ships against\na strange people, and wealth fell ever to my hands. Of the booty I\nwould choose out for me all that I craved, and much thereafter I won by\nlot. So my house got increase speedily, and thus I waxed dread and\nhonourable among the Cretans. But when Zeus, of the far-borne voice,\ndevised at the last that hateful path which loosened the knees of many\na man in death, then the people called on me and on renowned Idomeneus\nto lead the ships to Ilios, nor was there any way whereby to refuse,\nfor the people\u2019s voice bore hard upon us. There we sons of the Achaeans\nwarred for nine whole years, and then in the tenth year we sacked the\ncity of Priam, and departed homeward with our ships, and a god\nscattered the Achaeans. But Zeus, the counsellor, devised mischief\nagainst me, wretched man that I was! For one month only I abode and had\njoy in my children and my wedded wife, and all that I had; and\nthereafter my spirit bade me fit out ships in the best manner and sail\nto Egypt with my godlike company. Nine ships I fitted out and the host\nwas gathered quickly; and then for six days my dear company feasted,\nand I gave them many victims that they might sacrifice to the gods and\nprepare a feast for themselves. But on the seventh day we set sail from\nwide Crete, with a North Wind fresh and fair, and lightly we ran as it\nwere down stream, yea and no harm came to any ship of mine, but we sat\nsafe and hale, while the wind and the pilots guided the barques. And on\nthe fifth day we came to the fair-flowing Aegyptus, and in the river\nAegyptus I stayed my curved ships. Then verily I bade my dear\ncompanions to abide there by the ships and to guard them, and I sent\nforth scouts to range the points of outlook. But my men gave place to\nwantonness, being the fools of their own force, and soon they fell to\nwasting the fields of the Egyptians, exceeding fair, and led away their\nwives and infant children and slew the men. And the cry came quickly to\nthe city, and the people hearing the shout came forth at the breaking\nof the day, and all the plain was filled with footmen and chariots and\nwith the glitter of bronze. And Zeus, whose joy is in the thunder, sent\nan evil panic upon my company, and none durst stand and face the foe,\nfor danger encompassed us on every side. There they slew many of us\nwith the edge of the sword, and others they led up with them alive to\nwork for them perforce. But as for me, Zeus himself put a thought into\nmy heart; would to God that I had rather died, and met my fate there in\nEgypt, for sorrow was still mine host! Straightway I put off my\nwell-wrought helmet from my head, and the shield from off my shoulders,\nand I cast away my spear from my hand, and I came over against the\nchariots of the king, and clasped and kissed his knees, and he saved me\nand delivered me, and setting me on his own chariot took me weeping to\nhis home. Truly many an one made at me with their ashen spears, eager\nto slay me, for verily they were sore angered. But the king kept them\noff and had respect unto the wrath of Zeus, the god of strangers, who\nchiefly hath displeasure at evil deeds. So for seven whole years I\nabode with their king, and gathered much substance among the Egyptians,\nfor they all gave me gifts. But when the eighth year came in due\nseason, there arrived a Phoenician practised in deceit, a greedy knave,\nwho had already done much mischief among men. He wrought on me with his\ncunning, and took me with him until he came to Phoenicia, where was his\nhouse and where his treasures lay. There I abode with him for the space\nof a full year. But when now the months and days were fulfilled, as the\nyear came round and the seasons returned, he set me aboard a seafaring\nship for Libya, under colour as though I was to convey a cargo thither\nwith him, but his purpose was to sell me in Libya, and get a great\nprice. So I went with him on board, perforce, yet boding evil. And the\nship ran before a North Wind fresh and fair, through the mid sea over\nabove Crete, and Zeus contrived the destruction of the crew. But when\nwe left Crete, and no land showed in sight but sky and sea only, even\nthen the son of Cronos stayed a dark cloud over the hollow ship, and\nthe deep grew dark beneath it. And in the same moment Zeus thundered\nand smote his bolt into the ship, and she reeled all over being\nstricken by the bolt of Zeus, and was filled with fire and brimstone,\nand all the crew fell overboard. And like sea-gulls they were borne\nhither and thither on the waves about the black ship, and the god cut\noff their return. But in this hour of my affliction Zeus himself put\ninto my hands the huge mast of the dark-prowed ship, that even yet I\nmight escape from harm. So I clung round the mast and was borne by the\nruinous winds. For nine days was I borne, and on the tenth black night\nthe great rolling wave brought me nigh to the land of the Thesprotians.\nThere the king of the Thesprotians, the lord Pheidon, took me in\nfreely, for his dear son lighted on me and raised me by the hand and\nled me to his house, foredone with toil and the keen air, till he came\nto his father\u2019s palace. And he clothed me in a mantle and a doublet for\nraiment.\n\n\u201cThere I heard tidings of Odysseus, for the king told me that he had\nentertained him, and kindly entreated him on his way to his own\ncountry; and he showed me all the wealth that Odysseus had gathered,\nbronze and gold and well-wrought iron; yea it would suffice for his\nchildren after him even to the tenth generation, so great were the\ntreasures he had stored in the chambers of the king. He had gone, he\nsaid, to Dodona to hear the counsel of Zeus, from the high leafy oak\ntree of the god, how he should return to the fat land of Ithaca after\nlong absence, whether openly or by stealth. Moreover, he sware, in mine\nown presence, as he poured the drink offering in his house, that the\nship was drawn down to the sea and his company were ready, who were to\nconvey him to his own dear country. But ere that, he sent me off, for\nit chanced that a ship of the Thesprotians was starting for Dulichium,\na land rich in grain. Thither he bade them bring me with all diligence\nto the king Acastus. But an evil counsel concerning me found favour in\ntheir sight, that even yet I might reach the extremity of sorrow. When\nthe seafaring ship had sailed a great way from the land, anon they\nsought how they might compass for me the day of slavery. They stript me\nof my garments, my mantle and a doublet, and changed my raiment to a\nvile wrap and doublet, tattered garments, even those thou seest now\nbefore thee; and in the evening they reached the fields of clear-seen\nIthaca. There in the decked ship they bound me closely with a twisted\nrope, and themselves went ashore, and hasted to take supper by the\nsea-banks. Meanwhile the gods themselves lightly unclasped my bands,\nand muffling my head with the wrap I slid down the smooth lading-plank,\nand set my breast to the sea and rowed hard with both hands as I swam,\nand very soon I was out of the water and beyond their reach. Then I\nwent up where there was a thicket, a wood in full leaf, and lay there\ncrouching. And they went hither and thither making great moan; but when\nnow it seemed to them little avail to go further on their quest, they\ndeparted back again aboard their hollow ship. And the gods themselves\nhid me easily and brought me nigh to the homestead of a wise man; for\nstill, methinks, I am ordained to live on.\u201d\n\nThen didst thou make answer to him, swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cAh! wretched\nguest, verily thou hast stirred my heart with the tale of all these\nthings, of thy sufferings and thy wanderings. Yet herein, methinks,\nthou speakest not aright, and never shalt thou persuade me with the\ntale about Odysseus; why should one in thy plight lie vainly? Well I\nknow of mine own self, as touching my lord\u2019s return, that he was\nutterly hated by all the gods, in that they smote him not among the\nTrojans nor in the arms of his friends, when he had wound up the clew\nof war. So should the whole Achaean host have builded him a barrow; yea\nand for his son would he have won great glory in the after days; but\nnow all ingloriously the spirits of the storm have snatched him away.\nBut as for me I dwell apart by the swine and go not to the city, unless\nperchance wise Penelope summons me thither, when tidings of my master\nare brought I know not whence. Now all the people sit round and\nstraitly question the news-bearer, both such as grieve for their lord\nthat is long gone, and such as rejoice in devouring his living without\natonement. But I have no care to ask or to inquire, since the day that\nan Aetolian cheated me with his story, one who had slain his man and\nwandered over wide lands and came to my steading, and I dealt lovingly\nwith him. He said that he had seen my master among the Cretans at the\nhouse of Idomeneus, mending his ships which the storms had broken. And\nhe said that he would come home either by the summer or the\nharvest-tide, bringing much wealth with the godlike men of his company.\nAnd thou too, old man of many sorrows, seeing that some god hath\nbrought thee to me, seek not my grace with lies, nor give me any such\ncomfort; not for this will I have respect to thee or hold thee dear,\nbut only for the fear of Zeus, the god of strangers, and for pity of\nthyself.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cVerily thy heart\nwithin thee is slow to believe, seeing that even with an oath I have\nnot won thee, nor find credence with thee. But come now, let us make a\ncovenant; and we will each one have for witnesses the gods above, who\nhold Olympus. If thy lord shall return to this house, put on me a\nmantle and doublet for raiment, and send me on my way to Dulichium,\nwhither I had a desire to go. But if thy lord return not according to\nmy word, set thy thralls upon me, and cast me down from a mighty rock,\nthat another beggar in his turn may beware of deceiving.\u201d\n\nAnd the goodly swineherd answered him, saying: \u201cYea stranger, even so\nshould I get much honour and good luck among men both now and ever\nhereafter, if after bringing thee to my hut and giving thee a\nstranger\u2019s cheer, I should turn again and slay thee and take away thy\ndear life. Eager indeed thereafter should I be to make a prayer to Zeus\nthe son of Cronos! But now it is supper-time, and would that my fellows\nmay speedily be at home, that we may make ready a dainty supper within\nthe hut.\u201d\n\nThus they spake one to the other. And lo, the swine and the swineherds\ndrew nigh. And the swine they shut up to sleep in their lairs, and a\nmighty din arose as the swine were being stalled. Then the goodly\nswineherd called to his fellows, saying:\n\n\u201cBring the best of the swine, that I may sacrifice it for a guest of\nmine from a far land: and we too will have good cheer therewith, for we\nhave long suffered and toiled by reason of the white-tusked swine,\nwhile others devour the fruit of our labour without atonement.\u201d\n\nTherewithal he cleft logs with the pitiless axe, and the others brought\nin a well-fatted boar of five years old; and they set him by the hearth\nnor did the swineherd forget the deathless gods, for he was of an\nunderstanding heart. But for a beginning of sacrifice he cast bristles\nfrom the head of the white-tusked boar upon the fire, and prayed to all\nthe gods that wise Odysseus might return to his own house. Then he\nstood erect, and smote the boar with a billet of oak which he had left\nin the cleaving, and the boar yielded up his life. Then they cut the\nthroat and singed the carcass and quickly cut it up, and the swineherd\ntook a first portion from all the limbs, and laid the raw flesh on the\nrich fat. And some pieces he cast into the fire after sprinkling them\nwith bruised barley-meal, and they cut the rest up small, and pierced\nit, and spitted and roasted it carefully, and drew it all off from the\nspits, and put the whole mess together on trenchers. Then the swineherd\nstood up to carve, for well he knew what was fair, and he cut up the\nwhole and divided it into seven portions. One, when he had prayed, he\nset aside for the nymphs and for Hermes son of Maia, and the rest he\ndistributed to each. And he gave Odysseus the portion of honour, the\nlong back of the white-tusked boar, and the soul of his lord rejoiced\nat this renown, and Odysseus of many counsels hailed him saying:\n\n\u201cEumaeus, oh that thou mayest so surely be dear to father Zeus, as thou\nart to me, seeing that thou honourest me with a good portion, such an\none as I am!\u201d\n\nThen didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus:\n\n\u201cEat, luckless stranger, and make merry with such fare as is here. And\none thing the god will give and another withhold, even as he will, for\nwith him all things are possible.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and made burnt offering of the hallowed parts to the\neverlasting gods, and poured the dark wine for a drink offering, and\nset the cup in the hands of Odysseus, the waster of cities, and sat\ndown by his own mess. And Mesaulius bare them wheaten bread, a thrall\nthat the swineherd had gotten all alone, while his lord was away,\nwithout the knowledge of his mistress and the old Laertes: yea he had\nbought him of the Taphians with his own substance. So they stretched\nforth their hands upon the good cheer spread before them. Now after\nthey had put from them the desire of meat and drink, Mesaulius cleared\naway the bread, and they, now that they had eaten enough of bread and\nflesh, were moved to go to rest.\n\nNow it was so that night came on foul with a blind moon, and Zeus\nrained the whole night through, and still the great West Wind, the\nrainy wind, was blowing. Then Odysseus spake among them that he might\nmake trial of the swineherd, and see whether he would take off his own\nmantle and give it to him or bid one of his company strip, since he\ncared for him so greatly:\n\n\u201cListen now, Eumaeus, and all of you his companions, with a prayer will\nI utter my word; so bids me witless wine, which drives even the wisest\nto sing and to laugh softly, and rouses him to dance, yea and makes him\nto speak out a word which were better unspoken. Howbeit, now that I\nhave broken into speech, I will not hide aught. Oh that I were young,\nand my might were steadfast, as in the day when we arrayed our ambush\nand led it beneath Troy town! And Odysseus, and Menelaus son of Atreus,\nwere leaders and with them I was a third in command; for so they bade\nme. Now when we had come to the city and the steep wall, we lay about\nthe citadel in the thick brushwood, crouching under our arms among the\nreeds and the marsh land, and behold, the night came on foul, with\nfrost, as the North Wind went down, while the snow fell from above, and\ncrusted like rime, bitter cold, and the ice set thick about our\nshields. Now the others all had mantles and doublets, and slept in\npeace with their shields buckled close about their shoulders; but I as\nI went forth had left my mantle behind with my men, in my folly,\nthinking that even so I should not be cold: so I came with only my\nshield and bright leathern apron. But when it was now the third watch\nof the night and the stars had passed the zenith, in that hour I spake\nunto Odysseus who was nigh me, and thrust him with my elbow, and he\nlistened straightway:\n\n\u201c\u2018Son of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, verily\nI shall cease from among living men, for this wintry cold is slaying\nme, seeing that I have no mantle. Some god beguiled me to wear a\ndoublet only, and henceforth is no way of escape.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I spake, and he apprehended a thought in his heart, such an one as\nhe was in counsel and in fight. So he whispered and spake to me,\nsaying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Be silent now, lest some other Achaeans hear thee.\u2019 Therewith he\nraised his head upon his elbow, and spake, saying: \u2018Listen, friends, a\nvision from a god came to me in my sleep. Lo, we have come very far\nfrom the ships; I would there were one to tell it to Agamemnon, son of\nAtreus, shepherd of the host, if perchance he may send us hither a\ngreater company from the ships.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake he, and Thoas, son of Andraemon, rose up quickly and cast off\nhis purple mantle. And he started to run unto the ships, but I lay\ngladly in his garment, and the golden-throned Dawn showed her light.\nOh! that I were young as then and my might steadfast! Then should some\nof the swineherds in the homestead give me a mantle, alike for love\u2019s\nsake and for pity of a good warrior. But now they scorn me for that\nsorry raiment is about my body.\u201d\n\nThen didst thou make answer, O swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cOld man, the tale\nthat thou hast told in his praise is very good, and so far thou hast\nnot misspoken aught, nor uttered a word unprofitably. Wherefore for\nthis night thou shalt lack neither raiment nor aught else that is the\ndue of a hapless suppliant, when he has met them that can befriend him.\nBut in the morning thou shalt go shuffling in thine own rags, for there\nare not many mantles here or changes of doublet; for each man hath but\none coat. But when the dear son of Odysseus comes, he himself will give\nthee a mantle and doublet for raiment, and send thee whithersoever thy\nheart and spirit bid.\u201d\n\nWith that he sprang up and set a bed for Odysseus near the fire, and\nthereon he cast skins of sheep and goats. There Odysseus laid him down\nand Eumaeus cast a great thick mantle over him, which he had ever by\nhim for a change of covering, when any terrible storm should arise.\n\nSo there Odysseus slept, and the young men slept beside him. But the\nswineherd had no mind to lie there in a bed away from the boars. So he\nmade him ready to go forth and Odysseus was glad, because he had a\ngreat care for his master\u2019s substance while he was afar. First he cast\nhis sharp sword about his strong shoulders, then he clad him in a very\nthick mantle, to keep the wind away; and he caught up the fleece of a\ngreat and well-fed goat, and seized his sharp javelin, to defend him\nagainst dogs and men. Then he went to lay him down even where the\nwhite-tusked boars were sleeping, beneath the hollow of the rock, in a\nplace of shelter from the North Wind.\n\n\n\nBOOK XV.\n\n\nPallas sends home Telemachus from Lacedaemon with the presents given\nhim by Menelaus. Telemachus landed, goes first to Eumaeus.\n\n\nNow Pallas Athene went to the wide land of Lacedaemon, to put the noble\nson of the great-hearted Odysseus in mind of his return, and to make\nhim hasten his coming. And she found Telemachus, and the glorious son\nof Nestor, couched at the vestibule of the house of famous Menelaus.\nThe son of Nestor truly was overcome with soft sleep, but sweet sleep\ngat not hold of Telemachus, but, through the night divine, careful\nthoughts for his father kept him wakeful. And grey-eyed Athene stood\nnigh him and spake to him, saying:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, it is no longer meet that thou shouldest wander far from\nthy home, leaving thy substance behind thee, and men in thy house so\nwanton, lest they divide and utterly devour all thy wealth, and thou\nshalt have gone on a vain journey. But come, rouse with all haste\nMenelaus, of the loud war-cry, to send thee on thy way, that thou\nmayest even yet find thy noble mother in her home. For even now her\nfather and her brethren bid her wed Eurymachus, for he outdoes all the\nwooers in his presents, and hath been greatly increasing his gifts of\nwooing. So shall she take no treasure from thy house despite thy will.\nThou knowest of what sort is the heart of a woman within her; all her\ndesire is to increase the house of the man who takes her to wife, but\nof her former children and of her own dear lord she has no more memory\nonce he is dead, and she asks concerning him no more. Go then, and\nthyself place all thy substance in the care of the handmaid who seems\nto thee the best, till the day when the gods shall show thee a glorious\nbride. Now another word will I tell thee, and do thou lay it up in\nthine heart. The noblest of the wooers lie in wait for thee of purpose,\nin the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos, eager to slay thee\nbefore thou come to thine own country. But this, methinks, will never\nbe; yea, sooner shall the earth close over certain of the wooers that\ndevour thy livelihood. Nay, keep thy well-wrought ship far from those\nisles, and sail by night as well as day, and he of the immortals who\nhath thee in his keeping and protection will send thee a fair breeze in\nthy wake. But when thou hast touched the nearest shore of Ithaca, send\nthy ship and all thy company forward to the city, but for thy part seek\nfirst the swineherd who keeps thy swine, loyal and at one with thee.\nThere do thou rest the night, and bid him go to the city to bear\ntidings of thy coming to the wise Penelope, how that she hath got thee\nsafe, and thou art come up out of Pylos.\u201d\n\nTherewith she departed to high Olympus. But Telemachus woke the son of\nNestor out of sweet sleep, touching him with his heel, and spake to\nhim, saying:\n\n\u201cAwake, Peisistratus, son of Nestor, bring up thy horses of solid hoof,\nand yoke them beneath the car, that we may get forward on the road.\u201d\n\nThen Peisistratus, son of Nestor, answered him, saying: \u201cTelemachus, we\nmay in no wise drive through the dark night, how eager soever to be\ngone; nay, soon it will be dawn. Tarry then, till the hero, the son of\nAtreus, spear-famed Menelaus, brings gifts, and sets them on the car,\nand bespeaks thee kindly, and sends thee on thy way. For of him a guest\nis mindful all the days of his life, even of the host that shows him\nloving-kindness.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and anon came the golden-throned Dawn. And Menelaus, of\nthe loud war cry, drew nigh to them, new risen from his bed, by\nfair-haired Helen. Now when the dear son of Odysseus marked him, he\nmade haste and girt his shining doublet about him, and the hero cast a\ngreat mantle over his mighty shoulders, and went forth at the door, and\nTelemachus, dear son of divine Odysseus, came up and spake to Menelaus,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cMenelaus, son of Atreus, fosterling of Zeus, leader of the people,\neven now do thou speed me hence, to mine own dear country; for even now\nmy heart is fain to come home again.\u201d\n\nThen Menelaus, of the loud war cry, answered him: \u201cTelemachus, as for\nme, I will not hold thee a long time here, that art eager to return;\nnay, I think it shame even in another host, who loves overmuch or hates\novermuch. Measure is best in all things. He does equal wrong who speeds\na guest that would fain abide, and stays one who is in haste to be\ngone. Men should lovingly entreat the present guest and speed the\nparting. But abide till I bring fair gifts and set them on the car and\nthine own eyes behold them, and I bid the women to prepare the midday\nmeal in the halls, out of the good store they have within. Honour and\nglory it is for us, and gain withal for thee, that ye should have eaten\nwell ere ye go on your way, over vast and limitless lands. What and if\nthou art minded to pass through Hellas and mid Argos? So shall I too go\nwith thee, and yoke thee horses and lead thee to the towns of men, and\nnone shall send us empty away, but will give us some one thing to take\nwith us, either a tripod of goodly bronze or a cauldron, or two mules\nor a golden chalice.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him saying: \u201cMenelaus, son of Atreus,\nfosterling of Zeus, leader of the people, rather would I return even\nnow to mine own land, for I left none behind to watch over my goods\nwhen I departed. I would not that I myself should perish on the quest\nof my godlike father, nor that any good heir-loom should be lost from\nmy halls.\u201d\n\nNow when Menelaus, of the loud war cry, heard this saying, straightway\nhe bade his wife and maids to prepare the midday meal in the halls, out\nof the good store they had by them. Then Eteoneus, son of Boethous,\ncame nigh him, just risen from his bed, for he abode not far from him.\nHim Menelaus of the loud war cry bade kindle the fire and roast of the\nflesh; and he hearkened and obeyed. Then the prince went down into the\nfragrant treasure chamber, not alone, for Helen went with him, and\nMegapenthes. Now, when they came to the place where the treasures were\nstored, then Atrides took a two-handled cup, and bade his son\nMegapenthes to bear a mixing bowl of silver. And Helen stood by the\ncoffers, wherein were her robes of curious needlework which she herself\nhad wrought. Then Helen, the fair lady, lifted one and brought it out,\nthe widest and most beautifully embroidered of all, and it shone like a\nstar, and lay far beneath the rest.\n\nThen they went forth through the house till they came to Telemachus;\nand Menelaus, of the fair hair, spake to him saying:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, may Zeus the thunderer, and the lord of Here, in very\ntruth bring about thy return according to the desire of thy heart. And\nof the gifts, such as are treasures stored in my house, I will give\nthee the goodliest and greatest of price. I will give thee a mixing\nbowl beautifully wrought; it is all of silver and the lips thereof are\nfinished with gold, the work of Hephaestus; and the hero Phaedimus the\nking of the Sidonians, gave it to me when his house sheltered me, on my\ncoming thither. This cup I would give to thee.\u201d\n\nTherewith the hero Atrides set the two-handled cup in his hands. And\nthe strong Megapenthes bare the shining silver bowl and set it before\nhim. And Helen came up, beautiful Helen, with the robe in her hands,\nand spake and hailed him:\n\n\u201cLo! I too give thee this gift, dear child, a memorial of the hands of\nHelen, against the day of thy desire, even of thy bridal, for thy bride\nto wear it. But meanwhile let it lie by thy dear mother in her chamber.\nAnd may joy go with thee to thy well-builded house, and thine own\ncountry.\u201d\n\nWith that she put it into his hands, and he took it and was glad. And\nthe hero Peisistratus took the gifts and laid them in the chest of the\ncar, and gazed on all and wondered. Then Menelaus of the fair hair led\nthem to the house. Then they twain sat them down on chairs and high\nseats, and a handmaid bare water for the hands in a goodly golden ewer,\nand poured it forth over a silver basin to wash withal, and drew to\ntheir side a polished table. And a grave dame bare wheaten bread and\nset it by them, and laid on the board many dainties, giving freely of\nsuch things as she had by her. And the son of Boethous carved by the\nboard and divided the messes, and the son of renowned Menelaus poured\nforth the wine. So they stretched forth their hands upon the good cheer\nset before them. Now when they had put from them the desire of meat and\ndrink, then did Telemachus and the glorious son of Nestor yoke the\nhorses and climb into the inlaid car. And they drave forth from the\ngateway and the echoing gallery. After these Menelaus, of the fair\nhair, the son of Atreus, went forth bearing in his right hand a golden\ncup of honey-hearted wine, that they might pour a drink-offering ere\nthey departed. And he stood before the horses and spake his greeting:\n\n\u201cFarewell, knightly youths, and salute in my name Nestor, the shepherd\nof the people; for truly he was gentle to me as a father, while we sons\nof the Achaeans warred in the land of Troy.\u201d\n\nAnd wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cYea verily, O fosterling of\nZeus, we will tell him all on our coming even as thou sayest. Would God\nthat when I return to Ithaca I may find Odysseus in his home and tell\nhim all, so surely as now I go on my way having met with all\nloving-kindness at thy hands, and take with me treasures many and\ngoodly!\u201d\n\nAnd even as he spake a bird flew forth at his right hand, an eagle that\nbare in his claws a great white goose, a tame fowl from the yard, and\nmen and women followed shouting. But the bird drew near them and flew\noff to the right, across the horses, and they that saw it were glad,\nand their hearts were all comforted within them. And Peisistratus, son\nof Nestor, first spake among them:\n\n\u201cConsider, Menelaus, fosterling of Zeus, leader of the people, whether\ngod hath showed forth this sign for us twain, or for thee thyself.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and the warrior Menelaus pondered thereupon, how he should\ntake heed to answer, and interpret it aright.\n\nAnd long-robed Helen took the word and spake, saying: \u201cHear me, and I\nwill prophesy as the immortals put it into my heart, and as I deem it\nwill be accomplished. Even as yonder eagle came down from the hill, the\nplace of his birth and kin, and snatched away the goose that was\nfostered in the house, even so shall Odysseus return home after much\ntrial and long wanderings and take vengeance; yea, or even now is he at\nhome and sowing the seeds of evil for all the wooers.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered her, saying: \u201cNow may Zeus ordain it so,\nZeus the thunderer and the lord of Here. Then would I do thee worship,\nas to a god, even in my home afar.\u201d\n\nHe spake and smote the horses with the lash, and they sped quickly\ntowards the plain, in eager course through the city. So all day long\nthey swayed the yoke they bore upon their necks. And the sun sank, and\nall the ways were darkened. And they came to Pherae, to the house of\nDiocles, son of Orsilochus, the child begotten of Alpheus. There they\nrested for the night, and by them he set the entertainment of\nstrangers.\n\nNow so soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, they yoked\nthe horses and mounted the inlaid car. And forth they drave from the\ngateway and the echoing gallery. And he touched the horses with the\nwhip to start them, and the pair flew onward nothing loth. And soon\nthereafter they reached the steep hold of Pylos. Then Telemachus spake\nunto the son of Nestor, saying:\n\n\u201cSon of Nestor, in what wise mightest thou make me a promise and fulfil\nmy bidding? For we claim to be friends by reason of our fathers\u2019\nfriendship from of old. Moreover we are equals in age, and this journey\nshall turn to our greater love. Take me not hence past my ship, O\nfosterling of Zeus, but leave me there, lest that old man keep me in\nhis house in my despite, out of his eager kindness, for I must go right\nquickly home.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and the some of Nestor communed with his own heart how he\nmight make promise, and duly fulfil the same. So as he thought thereon,\nin this wise it seemed to him best. He turned back his horses toward\nthe swift ship and the sea-banks, and took forth the fair gifts and set\nthem in the hinder part of the ship, the raiment and the gold which\nMenelaus gave him. And he called to Telemachus and spake to him winged\nwords:\n\n\u201cNow climb the ship with all haste, and bid all thy company do\nlikewise, ere I reach home and bring the old man word. For well I know\nin my mind and heart that, being so wilful of heart, he will not let\nthee go, but he himself will come hither to bid thee to his house, and\nmethinks that he will not go back without thee; for very wroth will he\nbe despite thine excuse.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and drave the horses with the flowing manes back to the\ntown of the Pylians, and came quickly to the halls. And Telemachus\ncalled to his companions and commanded them, saying:\n\n\u201cSet ye the gear in order, my friends, in the black ship, and let us\nclimb aboard that we may make way upon our course.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and they gave good heed and hearkened. Then straightway\nthey embarked and sat upon the benches.\n\nThus was he busy hereat and praying and making burnt-offering to\nAthene, by the stern of the ship, when there drew nigh him one from a\nfar country, that had slain his man and was fleeing from out of Argos.\nHe was a soothsayer, and by his lineage he came of Melampus, who of old\ntime abode in Pylos, mother of flocks, a rich man and one that had an\nexceeding goodly house among the Pylians, but afterward he had come to\nthe land of strangers, fleeing from his country and from Neleus, the\ngreat-hearted, the proudest of living men, who kept all his goods for a\nfull year by force. All that time Melampus lay bound with hard bonds in\nthe halls of Phylacus, suffering strong pains for the sake of the\ndaughter of Neleus, and for the dread blindness of soul which the\ngoddess, the Erinnys of the dolorous stroke, had laid on him. Howsoever\nhe escaped his fate, and drave away the lowing kine from Phylace to\nPylos, and avenged the foul deed upon godlike Neleus, and brought the\nmaiden home to his own brother to wife. As for him, he went to a\ncountry of other men, to Argos, the pastureland of horses; for there\ntruly it was ordained that he should dwell, bearing rule over many of\nthe Argives. There he wedded a wife, and builded him a lofty house, and\nbegat Antiphates and Mantius, two mighty sons. Now Antiphates begat\nOicles the great-hearted, and Oicles Amphiaraus, the rouser of the\nhost, whom Zeus, lord of the aegis, and Apollo loved with all manner of\nlove. Yet he reached not the threshold of old age, but died in Thebes\nby reason of a woman\u2019s gifts. And the sons born to him were Alcmaeon\nand Amphilochus. But Mantius begat Polypheides and Cleitus; but it came\nto pass that the golden-throned Dawn snatched away Cleitus for his very\nbeauty\u2019s sake, that he might dwell with the Immortals.\n\nAnd Apollo made the high-souled Polypheides a seer, far the chief of\nhuman kind, Amphiaraus being now dead. He removed his dwelling to\nHypheresia, being angered with his father, and here he abode and\nprophesied to all men.\n\nThis man\u2019s son it was, Theoclymenus by name, that now drew nigh and\nstood by Telemachus. And he found him pouring a drink-offering and\npraying by the swift black ship, and uttering his voice he spake to him\nwinged words:\n\n\u201cFriend, since I find thee making burnt-offering in this place, I pray\nthee, by thine offerings and by the god, and thereafter by thine own\nhead, and in the name of the men of thy company answer my question\ntruly and hide it not. Who art thou of the sons of men and whence?\nWhere is thy city, where are they that begat thee?\u201d\n\nAnd wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cYea now, stranger, I will\nplainly tell thee all. Of Ithaca am I by lineage, and my father is\nOdysseus, if ever such an one there was, but now hath he perished by an\nevil fate. Wherefore I have taken my company and a black ship, and have\ngone forth to hear word of my father that has been long afar.\u201d\n\nThen godlike Theoclymenus spake to him again: \u201cEven so I too have fled\nfrom my country, for the manslaying of one of mine own kin. And many\nbrethren and kinsmen of the slain are in Argos, the pastureland of\nhorses, and rule mightily over the Achaeans. Wherefore now am I an\nexile to shun death and black fate at their hands, for it is my doom\nyet to wander among men. Now set me on board ship, since I supplicate\nthee in my flight, lest they slay me utterly; for methinks they follow\nhard after me.\u201d\n\nAnd wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cSurely I will not drive thee\naway from our good ship, if thou art fain to come. Follow thou with us\nthen, and in Ithaca thou shalt be welcome to such things as we have.\u201d\n\nTherewith he took from him his spear of bronze, and laid it along the\ndeck of the curved ship, and himself too climbed the seafaring ship.\nThen he sat him down in the stern and made Theoclymenus to sit beside\nhim; and his company loosed the hawsers. Then Telemachus called unto\nhis company, and bade them lay hands on the tackling, and speedily they\nhearkened to his call. So they raised the mast of pine tree, and set it\nin the hole of the cross plank and made it fast with forestays, and\nhauled up the white sails with twisted ropes of ox-hide. And grey-eyed\nAthene sent them a favouring breeze, rushing violently through the\nclear sky that the ship might speedily finish her course over the salt\nwater of the sea. So they passed by Crouni and Chalcis, a land of fair\nstreams.\n\nAnd the sun set and all the ways were darkened. And the vessel drew\nnigh to Pheae, being sped before the breeze of Zeus, and then passed\ngoodly Elis where the Epeans bear rule. From thence he drave on again\nto the Pointed Isles, pondering whether he should escape death or be\ncut off.\n\nNow Odysseus and the goodly swineherd were supping in the hut, and the\nother men sat at meat with them. So when they had put from them the\ndesire of meat and drink, Odysseus spake among them, to prove the\nswineherd, whether he would still entertain him diligently, and bid him\nabide there in the steading or send him forward to the city:\n\n\u201cListen now, Eumaeus, and all the others of the company. In the morning\nI would fain be gone to the town to go a begging, that I be not ruinous\nto thyself and thy fellows. Now advise me well, and lend me a good\nguide by the way to lead me thither; and through the city will I wander\nalone as needs I must, if perchance one may give me a cup of water and\na morsel of bread. Moreover I would go to the house of divine Odysseus\nand bear tidings to the wise Penelope, and consort with the wanton\nwooers, if haply they might grant me a meal out of the boundless store\nthat they have by them. Lightly might I do good service among them,\neven all that they would. For lo! I will tell thee and do thou mark and\nlisten. By the favour of Hermes, the messenger, who gives grace and\nglory to all men\u2019s work, no mortal may vie with me in the business of a\nserving-man, in piling well a fire, in cleaving dry faggots, and in\ncarving and roasting flesh and in pouring of wine, those offices\nwherein meaner men serve their betters.\u201d\n\nThen didst thou speak to him in heaviness of heart, swineherd Eumaeus:\n\u201cAh! wherefore, stranger, hath such a thought arisen in thine heart?\nSurely thou art set on perishing utterly there, if thou wouldest indeed\ngo into the throng of the wooers, whose outrage and violence reacheth\neven to the iron heaven! Not such as thou are their servants; they that\nminister to them are young and gaily clad in mantles and in doublets,\nand their heads are anointed with oil and they are fair of face, and\nthe polished boards are laden with bread and flesh and wine. Nay, abide\nhere, for none is vexed by thy presence, neither I nor any of my\nfellows that are with me. But when the dear son of Odysseus comes, he\nhimself will give thee a mantle and a doublet for raiment, and will\nsend thee whithersoever thy heart and spirit bid thee go.\u201d\n\nThen the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him: \u201cOh, that thou mayst\nso surely be dear to father Zeus as thou art to me, in that thou didst\nmake me to cease from wandering and dread woe! For there is no other\nthing more mischievous to men than roaming; yet for their cursed\nbelly\u2019s need men endure sore distress, to whom come wandering and\ntribulation and pain. But behold now, since thou stayest me here, and\nbiddest me wait his coming, tell me of the mother of divine Odysseus,\nand of the father whom at his departure he left behind him on the\nthreshold of old age; are they, it may be, yet alive beneath the\nsunlight, or already dead and within the house of Hades?\u201d\n\nThen spake to him the swineherd, a master of men: \u201cYea now, stranger, I\nwill plainly tell thee all. Laertes yet lives, and prays evermore to\nZeus that his life may waste from out his limbs within his halls. For\nhe has wondrous sorrow for his son that is far away, and for the wedded\nlady his wise wife, whose death afflicted him in chief and brought him\nto old age before his day. Now she died of very grief for her son\nrenowned, by an evil death, so may no man perish who dwells here and is\na friend to me in word and deed! So long as she was on earth, though in\nmuch sorrow, I was glad to ask and enquire concerning her, for that she\nherself had reared me along with long-robed Ctimene, her noble\ndaughter, the youngest of her children. With her I was reared, and she\nhonoured me little less than her own. But when we both came to the time\nof our desire, to the flower of age, thereupon they sent her to Same,\nand got a great bride-price; but my lady clad me in a mantle and a\ndoublet, raiment very fair, and gave me sandals for my feet and sent me\nforth to the field, and right dear at heart she held me. But of these\nthings now at last am I lacking; yet the blessed gods prosper the work\nof mine own hands, whereat I abide. Of this my substance I have eaten\nand drunken and given to reverend strangers. But from my lady I may\nhear naught pleasant, neither word nor deed, for evil hath fallen on\nher house, a plague of froward men; yet thralls have a great desire to\nspeak before their mistress and find out all eat and drink, and\nmoreover to carry off somewhat with them to the field, such things as\never comfort the heart of a thrall.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cAh, Eumaeus, how\nfar then didst thou wander from thine own country and thy parents while\nas yet thou wast but a child! But come, declare me this and plainly\ntell it all. Was a wide-wayed town of men taken and sacked, wherein\ndwelt thy father and thy lady mother, or did unfriendly men find thee\nlonely, tending sheep or cattle, and shipped thee thence, and sold thee\ninto the house of thy master here, who paid for thee a goodly price?\u201d\n\nThen spake to him the swineherd, a master of men: Stranger, since thou\naskest and questionest me hereof, give heed now in silence and make\nmerry, and abide here drinking wine. Lo, the nights now are of length\nuntold. Time is there to sleep, and time to listen and be glad; thou\nneedest not turn to bed before the hour; even too much sleep is\nvexation of spirit. But for the rest, let him whose heart and mind bid\nhim, go forth and slumber, and at the dawning of the day let him break\nhis fast, and follow our master\u2019s swine. But let us twain drink and\nfeast within the steading, and each in his neighbour\u2019s sorrows take\ndelight, recalling them, for even the memory of griefs is a joy to a\nman who hath been sore tried and wandered far. Wherefore I will tell\nthee that whereof thou askest and dost question me.\n\n\u201cThere is a certain isle called Syria, if haply thou hast heard tell of\nit, over above Ortygia, and there are the turning-places of the sun. It\nis not very great in compass, though a goodly isle, rich in herds, rich\nin flocks, with plenty of corn and wine. Dearth never enters the land,\nand no hateful sickness falls on wretched mortals. But when the tribes\nof men grow old in that city, then comes Apollo of the silver bow, with\nArtemis, and slays them with the visitation of his gentle shafts. In\nthat isle are two cities, and the whole land is divided between them,\nand my father was king over the twain, Ctesius son of Ormenus, a man\nlike to the Immortals.\n\n\u201cThither came the Phoenicians, mariners renowned, greedy merchant men,\nwith countless gauds in a black ship. Now in my father\u2019s house was a\nPhoenician woman, tall and fair and skilled in bright handiwork; this\nwoman the Phoenicians with their sleights beguiled. First as she was\nwashing clothes, one of them lay with her in love by the hollow ship,\nfor love beguiles the minds of womankind, even of the upright. Then he\nasked her who she was and whence she came, and straightway she showed\nhim the lofty home of my father, saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018From out of Sidon I avow that I come, land rich in bronze, and I am\nthe daughter of Arybas, the deeply wealthy. But Taphians, who were\nsea-robbers, laid hands on me and snatched me away as I came in from\nthe fields, and brought me hither and sold me into the house of my\nmaster, who paid for me a goodly price.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen the man who had lain with her privily, answered: \u2018Say, wouldst\nthou now return home with us, that thou mayst look again on the lofty\nhouse of thy father and mother and on their faces? For truly they yet\nlive, and have a name for wealth.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen the woman answered him and spake, saying: \u2018Even this may well be,\nif ye sailors will pledge me an oath to bring me home in safety.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, and they all swore thereto as she bade them. Now when\nthey had sworn and done that oath, again the woman spake among them and\nanswered, saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Hold your peace now, and let none of your fellows speak to me and\ngreet me, if they meet me in the street, or even at the well, lest one\ngo and tell it to the old man at home, and he suspect somewhat and bind\nme in hard bonds and devise death for all of you. But keep ye the\nmatter in mind, and speed the purchase of your homeward freight. And\nwhen your ship is freighted with stores, let a message come quickly to\nme at the house; for I will likewise bring gold, all that comes under\nmy hand. Yea and there is another thing that I would gladly give for my\nfare. I am nurse to the child of my lord in the halls, a most cunning\nlittle boy, that runs out and abroad with me. Him would I bring on\nboard ship, and he should fetch you a great price, wheresoever ye take\nhim for sale among men of strange speech.\u2019\n\n\u201cTherewith she went her way to the fair halls. But they abode among us\na whole year, and got together much wealth in their hollow ship. And\nwhen their hollow ship was now laden to depart, they sent a messenger\nto tell the tidings to the woman. There came a man versed in craft to\nmy father\u2019s house, with a golden chain strung here and there with amber\nbeads. Now the maidens in the hall and my lady mother were handling the\nchain and gazing on it, and offering him their price; but he had signed\nsilently to the woman, and therewithal gat him away to the hollow ship.\nThen she took me by the hand and led me forth from the house. And at\nthe vestibule of the house she found the cups and the tables of the\nguests that had been feasting, who were in waiting on my father. They\nhad gone forth to the session and the place of parley of the people.\nAnd she straightway hid three goblets in her bosom, and bare them away,\nand I followed in my innocence. Then the sun sank and all the ways were\ndarkened and we went quickly and came to the good haven, where was the\nswift ship of the Phoenicians. So they climbed on board and took us up\nwith them, and sailed over the wet ways, and Zeus sent us a favouring\nwind. For six days we sailed by day and night continually; but when\nZeus, son of Cronos, added the seventh day thereto, then Artemis, the\narcher, smote the woman that she fell, as a sea-swallow falls, with a\nplunge into the hold. And they cast her forth to be the prey of seals\nand fishes, but I was left stricken at heart. And wind and water bare\nthem and brought them to Ithaca, where Laertes bought me with his\npossessions. And thus it chanced that mine eyes beheld this land.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus, of the seed of Zeus, answered him saying:\n\n\u201cEumaeus, verily thou hast stirred my heart within me with the tale of\nall these things, of all the sorrow of heart thou hast endured. Yet\nsurely Zeus hath given thee good as well as evil, since after all these\nadventures thou hast come to the house of a kindly man, who is careful\nto give thee meat and drink and right well thou livest. But I have come\nhither still wandering through the many towns of men.\u201d\n\nThus they spake one with the other. Then they laid them down to sleep\nfor no long while, but for a little space, for soon came the throned\nDawn. But on the shore the company of Telemachus were striking their\nsails, and took down the mast quickly and rowed the ship on to\nanchorage. And they cast anchors and made fast the hawsers, and\nthemselves too stept forth upon the strand of the sea, and made ready\nthe midday meal, and mixed the dark wine. Now when they had put from\nthem the desire of meat and drink, wise Telemachus first spake among\nthem:\n\n\u201cDo ye now drive the black ship to the city, while I will go to the\nfields and to the herdsmen, and at even I will return to the city, when\nI have seen my lands. And in the morning I will set by you the wages of\nthe voyage, a good feast of flesh and of sweet wine.\u201d\n\nThen godlike Theoclymenus answered him: \u201cAnd whither shall I go, dear\nchild? To what man\u2019s house shall I betake me, of such as are lords in\nrocky Ithaca? Shall I get me straight to thy mother and to thy home?\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cIn other case I would bid\nthee go even to our own house; for there is no lack of cheer for\nstrangers, but now would it be worse for thyself, forasmuch as I shall\nbe away nor would my mother see thee. For she comes not often in sight\nof the wooers in the house, but abides apart from them in her upper\nchamber, and weaves at her web. Yet there is one whom I will tell thee\nof, to whom thou mayst go, Eurymachus the glorious son of wise Polybus,\nwhom now the men of Ithaca look upon, even as if he were a god. For he\nis far the best man of them all, and is most eager to wed my mother and\nto have the sovereignty of Odysseus. Howbeit, Olympian Zeus, that\ndwells in the clear sky, knows hereof, whether or no he will fulfill\nfor them the evil day before their marriage.\u201d\n\nNow even as he spake, a bird flew out on the right, a hawk, the swift\nmessenger of Apollo. In his talons he held a dove and plucked her, and\nshed the feathers down to the earth, midway between the ship and\nTelemachus himself. Then Theoclymenus called him apart from his\nfellows, and clasped his hand and spake and hailed him:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, surely not without the god\u2019s will hath the bird flown out\non the right, for I knew when I saw him that he was a bird of omen.\nThere is no other house more kingly than yours in the land of Ithaca;\nnay, ye have ever the mastery.\u201d\n\nAnd wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cAh, stranger, would that\nthis word may be accomplished! Soon shouldest thou be aware of kindness\nand many a gift at my hands, so that whoso met with thee would call\nthee blessed.\u201d\n\nThen he spake to Piraeus, his trusty companion: \u201cPiraeus, son of\nClytius, thou that at other seasons hearkenest to me above all my\ncompany who went with me to Pylos, even now, I pray, lead this stranger\nhome with thee, and give heed to treat him lovingly and with worship in\nthy house till I come.\u201d\n\nThen Piraeus, spearsman renowned, answered him saying: \u201cTelemachus,\nwhy, even if thou shouldest tarry here long, yet will I entertain this\nman, and he shall have no lack of stranger\u2019s cheer.\u201d\n\nTherewith he went on board, and bade his men themselves to mount and\nloose the hawsers. And quickly they embarked and sat upon the benches.\nAnd Telemachus bound his goodly sandals beneath his feet, and seized a\nmighty spear, shod with sharp bronze, from the deck of the ship and his\nmen loosed the hawsers. So they thrust off and sailed to the city, as\nTelemachus bade them, the dear son of divine Odysseus. But swiftly his\nfeet bore him on his forward way, till he came to the court, where were\nhis swine out of number; and among them the good swineherd slept, a man\nloyal to his lords.\n\n\n\nBOOK XVI.\n\n\nTelemachus sends Eumaeus to the city to tell his mother of his return.\nAnd how, in the meantime, Odysseus discovers himself to his son.\n\n\nNow these twain, Odysseus and the goodly swineherd, within the hut had\nkindled a fire, and were making ready breakfast at the dawn, and had\nsent forth the herdsmen with the droves of swine. And round Telemachus\nthe hounds, that love to bark, fawned and barked not, as he drew nigh.\nAnd goodly Odysseus took note of the fawning of the dogs, and the noise\nof footsteps fell upon his ears. Then straight he spake to Eumaeus\nwinged words:\n\n\u201cEumaeus, verily some friend or some other of thy familiars will soon\nbe here, for the dogs do not bark but fawn around, and I catch the\nsound of footsteps.\u201d\n\nWhile the word was yet on his lips, his own dear son stood at the\nentering in of the gate. Then the swineherd sprang up in amazement, and\nout of his hands fell the vessels wherewith he was busied in mingling\nthe dark wine. And he came over against his master and kissed his head\nand both his beautiful eyes and both his hands, and he let a great tear\nfall. And even as a loving father welcomes his son that has come in the\ntenth year from a far country, his only son and well-beloved, for whose\nsake he has had great sorrow and travail, even so did the goodly\nswineherd fall upon the neck of godlike Telemachus, and kiss him all\nover as one escaped from death, and he wept aloud and spake to him\nwinged words:\n\n\u201cThou art come, Telemachus, a sweet light in the dark; methought I\nshould see thee never again, after thou hadst gone in thy ship to\nPylos. Nay now enter, dear child, that my heart may be glad at the\nsight of thee in mine house, who hast newly come from afar. For thou\ndost not often visit the field and the herdsmen, but abidest in the\ntown; so it seems has thy good pleasure been, to look on the ruinous\nthrong of the wooers.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cSo be it, father, as thou\nsayest; and for thy sake am I come hither to see thee with mine eyes,\nand to hear from thy lips whether my mother yet abides in the halls or\nanother has already wedded her, and the couch of Odysseus, perchance,\nlies in lack of bedding and deep in foul spider-webs.\u201d\n\nThen the swineherd, a master of men, answered him: \u201cYea verily, she\nabides with patient spirit in thy halls, and wearily for her the nights\nwane always and the days, in shedding of tears.\u201d\n\nSo he spake and took from him the spear of bronze. Then Telemachus\npassed within and crossed the threshold of stone. As he came near, his\nfather Odysseus arose from his seat to give him place; but Telemachus,\non his part, stayed him and spake saying:\n\n\u201cBe seated, stranger, and we will find a seat some other where in our\nsteading, and there is a man here to set it for us.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and Odysseus went back and sat him down again. And the\nswineherd strewed for Telemachus green brushwood below, and a fleece\nthereupon, and there presently the dear son of Odysseus sat him down.\nNext the swineherd set by them platters of roast flesh, the fragments\nthat were left from the meal of yesterday. And wheaten bread he briskly\nheaped up in baskets, and mixed the honey-sweet wine in a goblet of ivy\nwood, and himself sat down over against divine Odysseus. So they\nstretched forth their hands upon the good cheer set before them. Now\nwhen they had put from them the desire of meat and drink, Telemachus\nspake to the goodly swineherd, saying:\n\n\u201cFather, whence came this stranger to thee? How did sailors bring him\nto Ithaca? and who did they avow them to be? For in no wise, I deem,\ndid he come hither by land.\u201d\n\nThen didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cYea now, my son, I\nwill tell thee all the truth. Of wide Crete he avows him to be by\nlineage, and he says that round many cities of mortals he has wandered\nat adventure; even so has some god spun for him the thread of fate. But\nnow, as a runaway from a ship of the Thesprotians, has he come to my\nsteading, and I will give him to thee for thy man; do with him as thou\nwilt; he avows him for thy suppliant.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cEumaeus, verily a bitter\nword is this that thou speakest. How indeed shall I receive this guest\nin my house? Myself I am young, and trust not yet to my strength of\nhands to defend me against the man who does violence without a cause.\nAnd my mother has divisions of heart, whether to abide here with me and\nkeep the house, respecting the bed of her lord and the voice of the\npeople, or straightway to go with whomsoever of the Achaeans that woo\nher in the halls is the best man, and gives most bridal gifts. But\nbehold, as for this guest of thine, now that he has come to thy house,\nI will clothe him in a mantle and a doublet, goodly raiment, and I will\ngive him a two-edged sword, and shoes for his feet, and send him on his\nway, whithersoever his heart and his spirit bid him go. Or, if thou\nwilt, hold him here in the steading and take care of him, and raiment I\nwill send hither, and all manner of food to eat, that he be not ruinous\nto thee and to thy fellows. But thither into the company of the wooers\nwould I not suffer him to go, for they are exceeding full of infatuate\ninsolence, lest they mock at him, and that would be a sore grief to me.\nAnd hard it is for one man, how valiant soever, to achieve aught among\na multitude, for verily they are far the stronger.\u201d\n\nThen the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him: \u201cMy friend, since it\nis indeed my right to answer thee withal, of a truth my heart is rent\nas I hear your words, such infatuate deeds ye say the wooers devise in\nthe halls, in despite of thee, a man so noble. Say, dost thou willingly\nsubmit thee to oppression, or do the people through the township hate\nthee, obedient to the voice of a god? Or hast thou cause to blame thy\nbrethren, in whose battle a man puts trust, even if a great feud arise?\nAh, would that I had the youth, as now I have the spirit, and were\neither the son of noble Odysseus or Odysseus\u2019 very self,[26]\nstraightway then might a stranger sever my head from off my neck, if I\nwent not to the halls of Odysseus, son of Laertes, and made myself the\nbane of every man among them! But if they should overcome me by\nnumbers, being but one man against so many, far rather would I die\nslain in mine own halls, than witness for ever these unseemly deeds,\nstrangers shamefully entreated, and men haling the handmaidens in foul\nwise through the fair house, and wine drawn wastefully and the wooers\ndevouring food all recklessly without avail, at a work that knows no\nending.\u201d\n\n [26] We omit line 101, which spoils the sense of the passage, and was\n rejected by antiquity.\n\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cYea now, stranger I will\nplainly tell thee all. There is no grudge and hatred borne my by the\nwhole people, neither have I cause to blame my brethren, in whose\nbattle a man puts trust, even if a great feud arise. For thus, as thou\nseest, Cronion has made us a house of but one heir. Arceisius got him\none only son Laertes, and one only son Odysseus was begotten of his\nfather, and Odysseus left me the only child of his getting in these\nhalls, and had no joy of me; wherefore now are foemen innumerable in\nthe house. For all the noblest that are princes in the islands, in\nDulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus, and as many as lord it in\nrocky Ithaca, all these woo my mother and waste my house. But as for\nher she neither refuseth the hated bridal, nor hath the heart to make\nand end; so they devour and minish my house; and ere long will they\nmake havoc likewise of myself. Howbeit these things surely lie on the\nknees of the gods. Nay, father, but do thou go with haste and tell the\nconstant Penelope that she hath got me safe and that I am come up out\nof Pylos. As for me, I will tarry here, and do thou return hither when\nthou hast told the tidings to her alone; but of the other Achaeans let\nno man learn it, for there be many that devise mischief against me.\u201d\n\nThen didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cI mark, I heed, all\nthis thou speakest to one with understanding. But come, declare me this\nand tell it plainly; whether or no I shall go the same road with\ntidings to Laertes, that hapless man, who till lately, despite his\ngreat sorrow for Odysseus\u2019 sake, yet had oversight of the tillage, and\ndid eat and drink with the thralls in his house, as often as his heart\nwithin him bade him. But now, from the day that thou wentest in thy\nship to Pylos, never to this hour, they say, hath he so much as eaten\nand drunken, nor looked to the labours of the field, but with groaning\nand lamentation he sits sorrowing, and the flesh wastes away about his\nbones.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cAll the more grievous it\nis! yet will we let him be, though we sorrow thereat. For if men might\nin any wise have all their will, we should before ought else choose the\nday of my father\u2019s returning. But do thou when thou hast told the\ntidings come straight back, and go not wandering through the fields\nafter Laertes. But speak to my mother that with all speed she send\nforth the house-dame her handmaid, secretly, for she might bear tidings\nto the old man.\u201d\n\nWith that word he roused the swineherd, who took his sandals in his\nhands and bound them beneath his feet and departed for the city. Now\nAthene noted Eumaeus the swineherd pass from the steading, and she drew\nnigh in the semblance of a woman fair and tall, and skilled in splendid\nhandiwork. And she stood in presence manifest to Odysseus over against\nthe doorway of the hut; but it was so that Telemachus saw her not\nbefore him and marked her not; for the gods in no wise appear visibly\nto all. But Odysseus was ware of her and the dogs likewise, which\nbarked not, but with a low whine shrank cowering to the far side of the\nsteading. Then she nodded at him with bent brows, and goodly Odysseus\nperceived it, and came forth from the room, past the great wall of the\nyard, and stood before her, and Athene spake to him, saying:\n\n\u201cSon of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, now is\nthe hour to reveal thy word to thy son, and hide it not, that ye twain\nhaving framed death and doom for the wooers, may fare to the famous\ntown. Nor will I, even I, be long away from you, being right eager for\nbattle.\u201d\n\nTherewith Athene touched him with her golden wand. First she cast about\nhis breast a fresh linen robe and a doublet, and she increased his bulk\nand bloom. Dark his colour grew again, and his cheeks filled out, and\nthe black beard spread thick around his chin.\n\nNow she, when she had so wrought, withdrew again, but Odysseus went\ninto the hut, and his dear son marvelled at him and looked away for\nvery fear lest it should be a god, and he uttered his voice and spake\nto him winged words:\n\n\u201cEven now, stranger, thou art other in my sight than that thou wert a\nmoment since, and other garments thou hast, and the colour of thy skin\nis no longer the same. Surely thou art a god of those that keep the\nwide heaven. Nay then, be gracious, that we may offer to thee\nwell-pleasing sacrifices and golden gifts, beautifully wrought; and\nspare us I pray thee.\u201d\n\nThen the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him, saying: \u201cBehold, no\ngod am I; why likenest thou me to the immortals? nay, thy father am I,\nfor whose sake thou sufferest many pains and groanest sore, and\nsubmittest thee to the despite of men,\u201d\n\nAt the word he kissed his son, and from his cheeks let a tear fall to\nearth: before, he had stayed the tears continually. But Telemachus (for\nas yet he believed not that it was his father) answered in turn and\nspake, saying:\n\n\u201cThou art not Odysseus my father, but some god beguiles me, that I may\ngroan for more exceeding sorrow. For it cannot be that a mortal man\nshould contrive this by the aid of his own wit, unless a god were\nhimself to visit him, and lightly of his own will to make him young or\nold. For truly, but a moment gone, thou wert old and foully clad, but\nnow thou art like the gods who keep the wide heaven.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cTelemachus, it\nfits thee not to marvel overmuch that thy father is come home, or to be\namazed. Nay for thou shalt find no other Odysseus come hither any more;\nbut lo, I, all as I am, after sufferings and much wandering have come\nin the twentieth year to mine own country. Behold, this is the work of\nAthene, driver of the spoil, who makes me such manner of man as she\nwill,\u2014for with her it is possible,\u2014 now like a beggar, and now again\nlike a young man, and one clad about in rich raiment. Easy it is for\nthe gods who keep the wide heaven to glorify or to abase a mortal man.\u201d\n\nWith this word then he sat down again; but Telemachus, flinging himself\nupon his noble father\u2019s neck, mourned and shed tears, and in both their\nhearts arose the desire of lamentation. And they wailed aloud, more\nceaselessly than birds, sea-eagles or vultures of crooked claws, whose\nyounglings the country folk have taken from the nest, ere yet they are\nfledged. Even so pitifully fell the tears beneath their brows. And now\nwould the sunlight have gone down upon their sorrowing, had not\nTelemachus spoken to his father suddenly:\n\n\u201cAnd in what manner of ship, father dear, did sailors at length bring\nthee hither to Ithaca? and who did they avow them to be? For in no\nwise, I deem, didst thou come hither by land.\u201d\n\nAnd the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him: \u201cYea now, my child, I\nwill tell thee all the truth. The Phaeacians brought me hither,\nmariners renowned, who speed other men too upon their way, whosoever\ncomes to them. Asleep in the swift ship they bore me over the seas and\nset me down in Ithaca, and gave me splendid gifts, bronze and gold in\nplenty and woven raiment. And these treasures are lying by the gods\u2019\ngrace in the caves. But now I am come hither by the promptings of\nAthene, that we may take counsel for the slaughter of the foemen. But\ncome, tell me all the tale of the wooers and their number, that I may\nknow how many and what men they be, and that so I may commune with my\ngood heart and advise me, whether we twain shall be able alone to make\nhead against them without aid, or whether we should even seek succour\nof others.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cVerily, father, I have ever\nheard of thy great fame, for a warrior hardy of thy hands, and sage in\ncounsel. But this is a hard saying of thine: awe comes over me; for it\nmay not be that two men should do battle with many men and stalwart.\nFor of the wooers there are not barely ten nor twice ten only, but many\na decad more: and straight shalt thou learn the tale of them ere we\npart. From Dulichium there be two and fifty chosen lords, and six\nserving men go with them; and out of Same four and twenty men; and from\nZacynthus there are twenty lords of the Achaeans; and from Ithaca\nitself full twelve men of the best, and with them Medon the henchman,\nand the divine minstrel, and two squires skilled in carving viands. If\nwe shall encounter all these within the halls, see thou to it, lest\nbitter and baneful for us be the vengeance thou takest on their\nviolence at thy coming. But do thou, if thou canst think of some\nchampion, advise thee of any that may help us with all his heart.\u201d\n\nThen the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him, saying: \u201cYea now, I\nwill tell thee, and do thou mark and listen to me, and consider whether\nAthene with Father Zeus will suffice for us twain, or whether I shall\ncast about for some other champion.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cValiant helpers, in sooth,\nare these two thou namest, whose seat is aloft in the clouds, and they\nrule among all men and among the deathless gods!\u201d\n\nThen the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him: \u201cYet will the twain\nnot long keep aloof from the strong tumult of war, when between the\nwooers and us in my halls is held the trial of the might of Ares. But\nas now, do thou go homeward at the breaking of the day, and consort\nwith the proud wooers. As for me, the swineherd will lead me to the\ntown later in the day, in the likeness of a beggar, a wretched man and\nan old. And if they shall evil entreat me in the house, let thy heart\nharden itself to endure while I am shamefully handled, yea even if they\ndrag me by the feet through the house to the doors, or cast at me and\nsmite me: still do thou bear the sight. Howbeit thou shalt surely bid\nthem cease from their folly, exhorting them with smooth words; yet no\nwhit will they hearken, nay for the day of their doom is at hand. Yet\nanother thing will I tell thee, and do thou ponder it in thy heart.\nWhen Athene, of deep counsel, shall put it into my heart, I will nod to\nthee with my head and do thou note it, and carry away all thy weapons\nof war that lie in the halls, and lay them down every one in the secret\nplace of the lofty chamber. And when the wooers miss them and ask thee\nconcerning them, thou shalt beguile them with soft words, saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Out of the smoke I laid them by, since they were no longer like those\nthat Odysseus left behind him of old when he went to Troy, but they are\nwholly marred: so mightily hath passed upon them the vapour of fire.\nMoreover Cronion hath put into my heart this other and greater care,\nthat perchance, when ye are heated with wine, ye set a quarrel between\nyou and wound one the other and thereby shame the feast and the wooing;\nfor iron of itself draws a man thereto.\u2019 But for us twain alone leave\ntwo swords and two spears and two shields of oxhide to grasp, that we\nmay rush upon the arms and seize them; and then shall Pallas Athene and\nZeus the counsellor enchant the wooers to their ruin. Yet another thing\nwill I tell thee, and do thou ponder it in thy heart. If in very truth\nthou art my son and of our blood, then let no man hear that Odysseus is\ncome home; neither let Laertes know it, nor the swineherd nor any of\nthe household nor Penelope herself, but let me and thee alone discover\nthe intent of the women. Yea, and we would moreover make trial of\ncertain of the men among the thralls, and learn who[27] of them chances\nto honour us and to fear us heartily, and who regards us not at all and\nholds even thee in no esteem, so noble a man as thou art.\u201d\n\n [27] Reading \u1f45 \u03c0\u03bf\u03cd \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2.\n\n\nThen his renowned son answered him, and said: \u201cO my father, of a truth\nthou shalt learn, methinks, even hereafter what spirit I am of, for no\nwhit doth folly possess me. But I deem not that this device of thine\nwill be gainful to us twain, so I bid thee to give heed. For thou shalt\nbe long time on thy road to little purpose, making trial of each man,\nwhile thou visitest the farm lands; but at ease in thy halls the wooers\ndevour thy goods with insolence, and now there is no sparing. Howbeit I\nwould have thee take knowledge of the women, who they be that dishonour\nthee, and who are guiltless. But of the men I would not that we should\nmake trial in the steadings, but that we should see to this task\nafterwards, if indeed thou knowest some sign from Zeus, lord of the\naegis.\u201d\n\nThus they spake one to the other. And now the well-builded ship was\nbeing brought to land at Ithaca, the ship that bare Telemachus from\nPylos with all his company. When they were now come within the deep\nharbour, the men drew up the black ship on the shore, while squires,\nhaughty of heart, bare away their weapons, and straightway carried the\nglorious gifts to the house of Clytius. Anon they sent forward a herald\nto the house of Odysseus to bear the tidings to prudent Penelope,\nnamely, how Telemachus was in the field, and had bidden the ship sail\nto the city, lest the noble queen should be afraid, and let the round\ntears fall. So these two met, the herald and the goodly swineherd, come\non the same errand to tell all to the lady. Now when they were got to\nthe house of the divine king, the herald spake out among all the\nhandmaids saying:\n\n\u201cVerily, O queen, thy son hath come out of Pylos.\u201d\n\nBut the swineherd went up to Penelope, and told her all that her dear\nson had bidden him say. So, when he had declared all that had been\nenjoined him, he went on his way to the swine and left the enclosure\nand the hall.\n\nNow the wooers were troubled and downcast in spirit, and forth they\nwent from the hall past the great wall of the court, and there in front\nof the gates they held their session. And Eurymachus son of Polybus\nfirst spake among them saying:\n\n\u201cVerily, friends, a proud deed hath Telemachus accomplished with a high\nhand, even this journey, and we said that he should never bring it to\npass. But come, launch we a black ship, the best there is, and let us\nget together oarsmen of the sea, who shall straightway bear word to our\nfriends to return home with speed.\u201d\n\nThe word was yet on his lips, when Amphinomus turned in his place and\nsaw the ship within the deep harbour, and the men lowering the sails\nand with the oars in their hands. Then sweetly he laughed out and spake\namong his fellows:\n\n\u201cNay, let us now send no message any more, for lo, they are come home.\nEither some god has told them all or they themselves have seen the ship\nof Telemachus go by, and have not been able to catch her.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and they arose and went to the sea-banks. Swiftly the\nmen drew up the black ship on the shore, and squires, haughty of heart,\nbare away their weapons. And the wooers all together went to the\nassembly-place, and suffered none other to sit with them, either of the\nyoung men or of the elders. Then Antinous spake among them, the son of\nEupeithes:\n\n\u201cLo now, how the gods have delivered this man from his evil case! All\nday long did scouts sit along the windy headlands, ever in quick\nsuccession, and at the going down of the sun we never rested for a\nnight upon the shore, but sailing with our swift ship on the high seas\nwe awaited the bright Dawn, as we lay in wait for Telemachus, that we\nmight take and slay the man himself; but meanwhile some god has brought\nhim home. But even here let us devise an evil end for him, even for\nTelemachus, and let him not escape out of our hands, for methinks that\nwhile he lives we shall never achieve this task of ours. For he himself\nhas understanding in counsel and wisdom, and the people no longer show\nus favour in all things. Nay come, before he assembles all the Achaeans\nto the gathering; for methinks that he will in nowise be slack, but\nwill be exceeding wroth, and will stand up and speak out among them\nall, and tell how we plotted against him sheer destruction but did not\novertake him. Then will they not approve us, when they hear these evil\ndeeds. Beware then lest they do us a harm, and drive us forth from our\ncountry, and we come to the land of strangers. Nay, but let us be\nbeforehand and take him in the field far from the city, or by the way;\nand let us ourselves keep his livelihood and his possessions, making\nfair division among us, but the house we would give to his mother to\nkeep and to whomsoever marries her. But if this saying likes you not,\nbut ye chose rather that he should live and keep the heritage of his\nfather, no longer then let us gather here and eat all his store of\npleasant substance, but let each one from his own hall woo her with his\nbridal gifts and seek to win her; so should she wed the man that gives\nthe most and comes as the chosen of fate.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and they all held their peace. Then Amphinomus made\nharangue and spake out among them; he was the famous son of Nisus the\nprince, the son of Aretias, and he led the wooers that came from out\nDulichium, a land rich in wheat and in grass, and more than all the\nrest his words were pleasing to Penelope, for he was of an\nunderstanding mind. And now of his good will he made harangue, and\nspake among them:\n\n\u201cFriends, I for one would not choose to kill Telemachus; it is a\nfearful thing to slay one of the stock of kings! Nay, first let us seek\nto the counsel of the gods, and if the oracles of great Zeus approve,\nmyself I will slay him and bid all the rest to aid. But if the gods are\ndisposed to avert it, I bid you to refrain.\u201d\n\nSo spake Amphinomus, and his saying pleased them well. Then straightway\nthey arose and went to the house of Odysseus, and entering in sat down\non the polished seats.\n\nThen the wise Penelope had a new thought, namely, to show herself to\nthe wooers, so despiteful in their insolence; for she had heard of the\ndeath of her son that was to be in the halls, seeing that Medon the\nhenchman had told her of it; who heard their counsels. So she went on\nher way to the hall, with the women her handmaids. Now when that fair\nlady had come unto the wooers, she stood by the pillar of the\nwell-builded roof, holding up her glistening tire before her face, and\nrebuked Antinous and spake and hailed him:\n\n\u201cAntinous, full of all insolence, deviser of mischief! and yet they say\nthat in the land of Ithaca thou art chiefest among thy peers in counsel\nand in speech. Nay, no such man dost thou show thyself. Fool! why\nindeed dost thou contrive death and doom for Telemachus, and hast no\nregard unto suppliants who have Zeus to witness? Nay but it is an\nimpious thing to contrive evil one against another. What! knowest thou\nnot of the day when thy father fled to this house in fear of the\npeople, for verily they were exceeding wroth against him, because he\nhad followed with Taphian sea robbers and harried the Thesprotians, who\nwere at peace with us. So they wished to destroy thy father and wrest\nfrom him his dear life, and utterly to devour all his great and\nabundant livelihood; but Odysseus stayed and withheld them, for all\ntheir desire. His house thou now consumest without atonement, and his\nwife thou wooest, and wouldst slay his son, and dost greatly grieve me.\nBut I bid thee cease, and command the others to do likewise.\u201d\n\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her saying: \u201cDaughter of\nIcarius, wise Penelope, take courage, and let not thy heart be careful\nfor these things. The man is not, nor shall be, nor ever shall be born,\nthat shall stretch forth his hands against Telemachus, thy son, while I\nlive and am on earth and see the light. For thus will I declare to\nthee, and it shall surely come to pass. Right quickly shall the black\nblood of such an one flow about our spear; for Odysseus, waster of\ncities, of a truth did many a time set me too upon his knees, and gave\nme roasted flesh into my hand, and held the red wine to my lips.\nWherefore Telemachus is far the dearest of all men to me, and I bid him\nhave no fear of death, not from the wooers\u2019 hands; but from the gods\nnone may avoid it.\u201d\n\nThus he spake comforting her, but was himself the while framing death\nfor her son.\n\nNow she ascended to her shining upper chamber, and then was bewailing\nOdysseus, her dear lord, till grey-eyed Athene cast sweet sleep upon\nher eyelids.\n\nAnd in the evening the goodly swineherd came back to Odysseus and his\nson, and they made ready and served the supper, when they had\nsacrificed a swine of a year old. Then Athene drew near Odysseus, son\nof Laertes, and smote him with her wand, and made him into an old man\nagain. In sorry raiment she clad him about his body, lest the swineherd\nshould look on him and know him, and depart to tell the constant\nPenelope, and not keep the matter in his heart.\n\nThen Telemachus spake first to the swineherd, saying: \u201cThou hast come,\ngoodly Eumaeus. What news is there in the town? Are the lordly wooers\nnow come in from their ambush, or do they still watch for me as before\non my homeward way?\u201d\n\nThen didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cI had no mind to go\ndown the city asking and inquiring hereof; my heart bade me get me home\nagain, as quick as might be, when once I had told the tidings. And the\nswift messenger from thy company joined himself unto me, the henchman,\nwho was the first to tell the news to thy mother. Yet this, too, I\nknow, if thou wouldest hear; for I beheld it with mine eyes. Already\nhad I come in my faring above the city, where is the hill Hermaean,\nwhen I marked a swift ship entering our haven, and many men there were\nin her, and she was laden with shields and two-headed spears, and\nmethought they were the wooers, but I know not at all.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and the mighty prince Telemachus smiled, and glanced at\nhis father, while he shunned the eye of the swineherd.\n\nNow when they had ceased from the work and got supper ready, they fell\nto feasting, and their hearts lacked not ought of the equal banquet.\nBut when they had put from them the desire of meat and drink, they\nbethought them of rest, and took the boon of sleep.\n\n\n\nBOOK XVII.\n\n\nTelemachus relates to his mother what he had heard at Pylos and Sparta.\n\n\nSo soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, then Telemachus,\nthe dear son of divine Odysseus, bound beneath his feet his goodly\nsandals, and took up his mighty spear that fitted his grasp, to make\nfor the city; and he spake to his swineherd, saying:\n\n\u201cVerily, father, I am bound for the city, that my mother may see me,\nfor methinks that she will not cease from grievous wailing and tearful\nlament, until she beholds my very face. But this command I give thee:\nLead this stranger, the hapless one, to the city, that there he may beg\nhis meat, and whoso chooses will give him a morsel of bread and a cup\nof water. As for myself, I can in no wise suffer every guest who comes\nto me, so afflicted am I in spirit. But if the stranger be sore angered\nhereat, the more grievous will it be for himself; howbeit I for one\nlove to speak the truth.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cI too, my friend,\nhave no great liking to be left behind here. It is better that a beggar\nshould beg his meat in the town than in the fields, and whoso chooses\nwill give it me. For I am not now of an age to abide at the steading,\nand to obey in all things the word of the master. Nay go, and this man\nthat thou biddest will lead me, so soon as I shall be warmed with the\nfire, and the sun waxes hot. For woefully poor are these garments of\nmine, and I fear lest the hoar frost of the dawn overcome me; moreover\nye say the city is far away.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and Telemachus passed out through the steading, stepping\nforth at a quick pace, and was sowing the seeds of evil for the wooers.\nNow when he was come to the fair-lying house, he set his spear against\nthe tall pillar and leaned it there, and himself went in and crossed\nthe threshold of stone.\n\nAnd the nurse Eurycleia saw him far before the rest, as she was\nstrewing skin coverlets upon the carven chairs, and straightway she\ndrew near him, weeping, and all the other maidens of Odysseus, of the\nhardy heart, were gathered about him, and kissed him lovingly on the\nhead and shoulders. Now wise Penelope came forth from her chamber, like\nArtemis or golden Aphrodite, and cast her arms about her dear son, and\nfell a weeping, and kissed his face and both his beautiful eyes, and\nwept aloud, and spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cThou art come, Telemachus, a sweet light in the dark; methought I\nshould see thee never again, after thou hadst gone in thy ship to\nPylos, secretly and without my will, to seek tidings of thy dear\nfather. Come now, tell me, what sight thou didst get of him?\u201d\n\nAnd wise Telemachus answered her, saying: \u201cMother mine, wake not\nwailing in my soul, nor stir the heart within the breast of me, that\nhave but now fled from utter death. Nay, but wash thee in water, and\ntake to thee fresh raiment, and go aloft to thine upper chamber with\nthe women thy handmaids, and vow to all the gods an acceptable\nsacrifice of hecatombs, if haply Zeus may grant that deeds of requital\nbe made. But I will go to the assembly-place to bid a stranger to our\nhouse, one that accompanied me as I came hither from Pylos. I sent him\nforward with my godlike company, and commanded Piraeus to lead him\nhome, and to take heed to treat him lovingly and with worship till I\nshould come.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and wingless her speech remained. And she washed her in\nwater, and took to her fresh raiment, and vowed to all the gods an\nacceptable sacrifice of hecatombs, if haply Zeus might grant that deeds\nof requital should be made.\n\nNow Telemachus went out through the hall with the spear in his hand:\nand two swift hounds bare him company. And Athene shed on him a\nwondrous grace, and all the people marvelled at him as he came. And the\nlordly wooers gathered about him with fair words on their lips, but\nbrooding evil in the deep of their heart. Then he avoided the great\npress of the wooers, but where Mentor sat, and Antiphus, and\nHalitherses, who were friends of his house from of old, there he went\nand sat down; and they asked him of all his adventures. Then Piraeus,\nthe famed spearsman, drew nigh, leading the stranger to the\nassembly-place by the way of the town; and Telemachus kept not aloof\nfrom him long, but went up to him.\n\nThen Piraeus first spake to him, saying: \u201cBestir the women straightway\nto go to my house, that I may send thee the gifts that Menelaus gave\nthee.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cPiraeus, we know not how\nthese matters will fall out. If the lordly wooers shall slay me by\nguile in the halls, and divide among them the heritage of my father,\nthen I should wish thee to keep and enjoy the gifts thyself, rather\nthan any of these. But if I shall sow the seeds of death and fate for\nthe wooers, then gladly bring me to the house the gifts that I will\ngladly take.\u201d\n\nTherewith he led the travel-worn stranger to the house. Now when they\ncame to the fair-lying palace, they laid aside their mantles on the\nchairs and high seats, and went to the polished baths, and bathed them.\nSo when the maidens had bathed them and anointed them with olive oil,\nand cast about them thick mantles and doublets, they came forth from\nthe baths, and sat upon the seats. Then the handmaid bare water for the\nhands in a goodly golden ewer, and poured it forth over a silver basin\nto wash withal, and drew to their side a polished table. And the grave\ndame bare wheaten bread, and set it by them, and laid on the board many\ndainties, giving freely of such things as she had by her. And the\nmother of Telemachus sat over against him by the pillar of the hall,\nleaning against a chair, and spinning the slender threads from the\nyarn. And they stretched forth their hands upon the good cheer set\nbefore them. Now when they had put from them the desire of meat and\ndrink, the wise Penelope first spake among them:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, verily I will go up to my upper chamber, and lay me in my\nbed, the place of my groanings, that is ever watered by my tears, since\nthe day that Odysseus departed with the sons of Atreus for Ilios. Yet\nthou hadst no care to tell me clearly, before the lordly wooers came to\nthis house, concerning the returning of thy father, if haply thou hast\nheard thereof.\u201d\n\nAnd wise Telemachus answered her, saying: \u201cYea now, mother, I will tell\nthee all the truth. We went to Pylos and to Nestor, the shepherd of the\npeople, and he received me in his lofty house, and was diligent to\nentreat me lovingly, as a father might his son that had but newly come\nfrom strange lands after many years; even so diligently he cared for me\nwith his renowned sons. Yet he said that he had heard no word from any\nman on earth concerning Odysseus, of the hardy heart, whether alive or\ndead. But he sent me forward on my way with horses and a chariot, well\ncompact, to Menelaus, son of Atreus, spearman renowned. There I saw\nArgive Helen, for whose sake the Argives and Trojans bore much travail\nby the gods\u2019 designs. Then straightway Menelaus, of the loud war-cry,\nasked me on what quest I had come to goodly Lacedaemon. And I told him\nall the truth. Then he made answer, and spake, saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Out upon them, for truly in the bed of a brave-hearted man were they\nminded to lie, very cravens as they are! Even as when a hind hath\ncouched her newborn fawns unweaned in a strong lion\u2019s lair, and\nsearcheth out the mountain-knees and grassy hollows, seeking pasture;\nand afterward the lion cometh back to his bed, and sendeth forth\nunsightly death upon that pair, even so shall Odysseus send forth\nunsightly death upon the wooers. Would to our father Zeus, and Athene,\nand Apollo, would that in such might as when of old in stablished\nLesbos he rose up in strife and wrestled with Philomeleides, and threw\nhim mightily, and all the Achaeans rejoiced; would that in such\nstrength Odysseus might consort with the wooers; then should they all\nhave swift fate and bitter wedlock! But for that whereof thou askest\nand entreatest me, be sure I will not swerve from the truth in aught\nthat I say, nor deceive thee; but of all that the ancient one of the\nsea, whose speech is sooth, declared to me, not a word will I hide or\nkeep from thee. He said that he saw Odysseus in an island, suffering\nstrong pains in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him there\nperforce; so that he may not come to his own country, for he has by him\nno ships with oars, and no companions to send him on his way over the\nbroad back of the sea.\u2019 So spake Menelaus, son of Atreus, spearsman\nrenowned. Then having fulfilled all, I set out for home, and the\ndeathless gods gave me a fair wind, and brought me swiftly to mine own\ndear country.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and stirred her heart within her breast. And next the\ngodlike Theoclymenus spake among them:\n\n\u201cO wife revered of Odysseus, son of Laertes, verily he hath no clear\nknowledge; but my word do thou mark, for I will prophesy to thee most\ntruly and hide nought. Now Zeus be witness before any god, and this\nhospitable board and this hearth of noble Odysseus, whereunto I am\ncome, that Odysseus is even now of a surety in his own country, resting\nor faring, learning of these evil deeds, and sowing the seeds of evil\nfor all the wooers. So clear was the omen of the bird that I saw as I\nsat on the decked ship, and I proclaimed it to Telemachus.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him, saying: \u201cAh, stranger, would that this\nthy word may be accomplished! Soon shouldest thou be aware of kindness\nand of many a gift at my hands, so that whoso met with thee would call\nthee blessed.\u201d\n\nThus they spake one to the other. But the wooers meantime were before\nthe palace of Odysseus, taking their pleasure in casting of weights and\nof spears on a levelled place, as heretofore, in their insolence. But\nwhen it was now the hour for supper, and the flocks came home from the\nfields all around, and the men led them whose custom it was, then\nMedon, who of all the henchmen was most to their mind, and was ever\nwith them at the feast, spake to them, saying:\n\n\u201cNoble youths, now that ye have had sport to your hearts\u2019 content, get\nyou into the house, that we may make ready a feast; for truly it is no\nbad thing to take meat in season.\u201d\n\nEven so he spake, and they rose up and departed, and were obedient to\nhis word. Now when they were come into the fair-lying house, they laid\naside their mantles on the chairs and high seats, and they sacrificed\ngreat sheep and stout goats, yea, and the fatlings of the boars and an\nheifer of the herd, and got ready the feast.\n\nNow all this while Odysseus and the goodly swineherd were bestirring\nthem to go from the field to the city; and the swineherd, a master of\nmen, spake first saying:\n\n\u201cWell, my friend, forasmuch as I see thou art eager to be going to the\ncity to-day, even as my master gave command;\u2014though myself I would well\nthat thou shouldest be left here to keep the steading, but I hold him\nin reverence and fear, lest he chide me afterwards, and grievous are\nthe rebukes of masters\u2014come then, let us go on our way, for lo, the day\nis far spent, and soon wilt thou find it colder toward evening.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cI mark, I heed:\nall this thou speakest to one with understanding. But let us be going,\nand be thou my guide withal to the end. And if thou hast anywhere a\nstaff ready cut, give it me to lean upon, for truly ye said that\nslippery was the way.\u201d\n\nTherewith he cast about his shoulders a mean scrip, all tattered, and a\ncord withal to hang it, and Eumaeus gave him a staff to his mind. So\nthese twain went on their way, and the dogs and the herdsmen stayed\nbehind to guard the steading. And the swineherd led his lord to the\ncity in the guise of a beggar, a wretched man and an old, leaning on a\nstaff; and sorry was the raiment wherewith he was clothed upon. But as\nthey fared along the rugged path they drew near to the town, and came\nto the fair flowing spring, with a basin fashioned, whence the people\nof the city drew water. This well Ithacus and Neritus and Polyctor had\nbuilded. And around it was a thicket of alders that grow by the waters,\nall circlewise, and down the cold stream fell from a rock on high, and\nabove was reared an altar to the Nymphs, whereat all wayfarers made\noffering. In that place Melanthius, son of Dolius, met them, leading\nhis goats to feast the wooers, the best goats that were in all the\nherds; and two herdsmen bare him company. Now when he saw them he\nreviled them, and spake and hailed them, in terrible and evil fashion,\nand stirred the heart of Odysseus, saying:\n\n\u201cNow in very truth the vile is leading the vile, for god brings ever\nlike to like! Say, whither art thou leading this glutton,\u2014thou wretched\nswineherd,\u2014this plaguy beggar, a kill-joy of the feast? He is one to\nstand about and rub his shoulders against many doorposts, begging for\nscraps of meat, not for swords or cauldrons. If thou wouldst give me\nthe fellow to watch my steading and sweep out the stalls, and carry\nfresh fodder to the kids, then he might drink whey and get him a stout\nthigh. Howbeit, since he is practised only in evil, he will not care to\nbetake him to the labour of the farm, but rather chooses to go louting\nthrough the land asking alms to fill his insatiate belly. But now I\nwill speak out and my word shall surely be accomplished. If ever he\nfares to the house of divine Odysseus, many a stool that men\u2019s hands\nhurl shall fly about his head, and break upon his ribs,[28] as they\npelt him through the house.\u201d\n\n [28] Reading \u03c0\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03af.\n\n\nTherewith, as he went past, he kicked Odysseus on the hip, in his\nwitlessness, yet he drave him not from the path, but he abode\nsteadfast. And Odysseus pondered whether he should rush upon him and\ntake away his life with the staff, or lift him in his grasp[29] and\nsmite his head to the earth. Yet he hardened his heart to endure and\nrefrained himself. And the swineherd looked at the other and rebuked\nhim, and lifting up his hands prayed aloud:\n\n [29] \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u1f76\u03c2 is perhaps best taken as an adverb in -\u03b4\u03b9\u03c2 formed from\n \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u1f76, though some letters of the word are still left obscure. Most\n modern commentators, however, derive it from \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u1f76 and \u03bf\u1f56\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2 \u201cnear the\n ground; hence, in this context, \u201clift him _by the feet_.\u201d\n\n\n\u201cNymphs of the well-water, daughters of Zeus, if ever Odysseus burned\non your altars pieces of the thighs of rams or kids, in their covering\nof rich fat, fulfil for me this wish:\u2014oh that he, even he, may come\nhome, and that some god may bring him! Then would he scatter all thy\nbravery, which now thou flauntest insolently, wandering ever about the\ncity, while evil shepherds destroy the flock.\u201d\n\nThen Melanthius, the goatherd, answered: \u201cLo now, what a word has this\nevil-witted dog been saying! Some day I will take him in a black decked\nship far from Ithaca, that he may bring me in much livelihood. Would\nGod that Apollo, of the silver bow, might smite Telemachus to-day in\nthe halls, or that he might fall before the wooers, so surely as for\nOdysseus the day of returning has in a far land gone by!\u201d\n\nSo he spake and left them there as they walked slowly on. But\nMelanthius stepped forth, and came very speedily to the house of the\nprince, and straightway he went in and sat down among the wooers, over\nagainst Eurymachus, who chiefly showed him kindness. And they that\nministered set by him a portion of flesh, and the grave dame brought\nwheaten bread and set it by him to eat. Now Odysseus and the goodly\nswineherd drew near and stood by, and the sound of the hollow lyre rang\naround them, for Phemius was lifting up his voice amid the company in\nsong, and Odysseus caught the swineherd by the hand, and spake, saying:\n\n\u201cEumaeus, verily this is the fair house of Odysseus, and right easily\nmight it be known and marked even among many. There is building beyond\nbuilding, and the court of the house is cunningly wrought with a wall\nand battlements, and well-fenced are the folding doors; no man may hold\nit in disdain. And I see that many men keep revel within, for the\nsavour of the fat rises upward,[30] and the voice of the lyre is heard\nthere, which the gods have made to be the mate of the feast.\u201d\n\n [30] Reading \u1f00\u03bd\u03ae\u03bd\u03bf\u03c6\u03b5\u03bd.\n\n\nThen didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cEasily thou knowest\nit, for indeed thou never lackest understanding. But come, let us\nadvise us, how things shall fall out here. Either do thou go first\nwithin the fair-lying halls, and join the company of the wooers, so\nwill I remain here, or if thou wilt, abide here, and I will go before\nthy face, and tarry not long, lest one see thee without, and hurl at\nthee or strike thee. Look well to this, I bid thee.\u201d\n\nThen the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him, saying: \u201cI mark, I\nheed, all this thou speakest to one with understanding. Do thou then go\nbefore me, and I will remain here, for well I know what it is to be\nsmitten and hurled at. My heart is full of hardiness, for much evil\nhave I suffered in perils of waves and war; let this be added to the\ntale of those. But a ravening belly may none conceal, a thing accursed,\nthat works much ill for men. For this cause too the benched ships are\nfurnished, that bear mischief to foemen over the unharvested seas.\u201d\n\nThus they spake one to the other. And lo, a hound raised up his head\nand pricked his ears, even where he lay, Argos, the hound of Odysseus,\nof the hardy heart, which of old himself had bred, but had got no joy\nof him, for ere that, he went to sacred Ilios. Now in time past the\nyoung men used to lead the hound against wild goats and deer and hares;\nbut as then, despised he lay (his master being afar) in the deep dung\nof mules and kine, whereof an ample bed was spread before the doors,\ntill the thralls of Odysseus should carry it away to dung therewith his\nwide demesne. There lay the dog Argos, full of vermin. Yet even now\nwhen he was ware of Odysseus standing by, he wagged his tail and\ndropped both his ears, but nearer to his master he had not now the\nstrength to draw. But Odysseus looked aside and wiped away a tear that\nhe easily hid from Eumaeus, and straightway he asked him, saying:\n\n\u201cEumaeus, verily this is a great marvel, this hound lying here in the\ndung. Truly he is goodly of growth, but I know not certainly if he have\nspeed with this beauty, or if he be comely only, like as are men\u2019s\ntrencher dogs that their lords keep for the pleasure of the eye.\u201d\n\nThen didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cIn very truth this is\nthe dog of a man that has died in a far land. If he were what once he\nwas in limb and in the feats of the chase, when Odysseus left him to go\nto Troy, soon wouldst thou marvel at the sight of his swiftness and his\nstrength. There was no beast that could flee from him in the deep\nplaces of the wood, when he was in pursuit; for even on a track he was\nthe keenest hound. But now he is holden in an evil case, and his lord\nhath perished far from his own country, and the careless women take no\ncharge of him. Nay, thralls are no more inclined to honest service when\ntheir masters have lost the dominion, for Zeus, of the far-borne voice,\ntakes away the half of a man\u2019s virtue, when the day of slavery comes\nupon him.\u201d\n\nTherewith he passed within the fair-lying house, and went straight to\nthe hall, to the company of the proud wooers. But upon Argos came the\nfate of black death even in the hour that he beheld Odysseus again, in\nthe twentieth year.\n\nNow godlike Telemachus was far the first to behold the swineherd as he\ncame into the hall, and straightway then he beckoned and called him to\nhis side. So Eumaeus looked about and took a settle that lay by him,\nwhere the carver was wont to sit dividing much flesh among the wooers\nthat were feasting in the house. This seat he carried and set by the\ntable of Telemachus over against him, and there sat down himself. And\nthe henchman took a mess and served it him, and wheaten bread out of\nthe basket.\n\nAnd close behind him Odysseus entered the house in the guise of a\nbeggar, a wretched man and an old, leaning on his staff, and clothed on\nwith sorry raiment. And he sat down on the ashen threshold within the\ndoorway, leaning against a pillar of cypress wood, which the carpenter\non a time had deftly planed, and thereon made straight the line. And\nTelemachus called the swineherd to him, and took a whole loaf out of\nthe fair basket, and of flesh so much as his hands could hold in their\ngrasp, saying:\n\n\u201cTake and give this to the stranger, and bid him go about and beg\nhimself of all the wooers in their turn, for shame is an ill mate of a\nneedy man.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and the swineherd went when he heard that saying, and\nstood by and spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cStranger, Telemachus gives thee these and bids thee go about and beg\nof all the wooers in their turn, for, he says, \u2018shame ill becomes a\nbeggar man.\u2019\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered him and said: \u201cKing Zeus, grant\nme that Telemachus may be happy among men, and may he have all his\nheart\u2019s desire!\u201d\n\nTherewith he took the gift in both hands, and set it there before his\nfeet on his unsightly scrip. Then he ate meat so long as the minstrel\nwas singing in the halls. When he had done supper, and the divine\nminstrel was ending his song, then the wooers raised a clamour through\nthe halls; but Athene stood by Odysseus, son of Laertes, and moved him\nto go gathering morsels of bread among the wooers, and learn which were\nrighteous and which unjust. Yet not even so was she fated to redeem one\nman of them from an evil doom. So he set out, beginning on the right,\nto ask of each man, stretching out his hand on every side, as though he\nwere a beggar from of old. And they in pity gave him somewhat, and were\namazed at the man, asking one another who he was and whence he came?\n\nThen Melanthius, the goatherd, spake among them:\n\n\u201cListen, ye wooers of the renowned queen, concerning this stranger, for\nverily I have seen him before. The swineherd truly was his guide\nhither, but of him I have no certain knowledge, whence he avows him to\nbe born.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, but Antinous rebuked the swineherd, saying: \u201cOh notorious\nswineherd, wherefore, I pray thee, didst thou bring this man to the\ncity? Have we not vagrants enough besides, plaguy beggars, kill-joys of\nthe feast? Dost thou count it a light thing that they assemble here and\ndevour the living of thy master, but thou must needs[31] call in this\nman too?\u201d\n\n [31] \u03c0\u03cc\u03b8\u03b9 can hardly have a _local_ meaning here. If retained, it must\n be nearly equivalent to \u03c0\u03bf\u03cd, \u201cit seems,\u201d with a touch of irony. Cf. i.\n 348. The v. 1. \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u1f76 = \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 is a simpler reading, but by no means\n certain.\n\n\nThen didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cAntinous, no fair\nwords are these of thine, noble though thou art. For who ever himself\nseeks out and bids to the feast a stranger from afar, save only one of\nthose that are craftsmen of the people, a prophet or a healer of ills,\nor a shipwright or even a godlike minstrel, who can delight all with\nhis song? Nay, these are the men that are welcome over all the wide\nearth. But none would call a beggar to the banquet, to waste his\nsubstance. But thou art ever hard above all the other wooers to the\nservants of Odysseus, and, beyond all, to me; but behold, I care not,\nso long as my mistress, the constant Penelope, lives in the halls and\ngodlike Telemachus.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cBe silent, answer him not,\nI pray thee, with many words, for Antinous is wont ever to chide us\nshamefully with bitter speech, yea, and urges the others thereto.\u201d\n\nTherewithal he spake winged words to Antinous: \u201cAntinous, verily thou\nhast a good care for me, as it were a father for his son, thou that\nbiddest me drive our guest from the hall with a harsh command. God\nforbid that such a thing should be! Take somewhat and give it him: lo,\nI grudge it not; nay, I charge thee to do it. And herein regard not my\nmother, nor any of the thralls that are in the house of divine\nOdysseus. Nay, but thou hast no such thought in thy heart, for thou art\nfar more fain to eat thyself than to give to another.\u201d\n\nThen Antinous answered him and spake, saying: \u201cTelemachus, proud of\nspeech, and unrestrained in fury, what word hast thou spoken? If all\nthe wooers should vouchsafe him as much as I, this house would keep him\nfar enough aloof even for three months\u2019 space.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and seized the footstool whereon he rested his sleek feet\nas he sat at the feast, and showed it from beneath the table where it\nlay. But all the others gave somewhat and filled the wallet with bread\nand flesh; yea, and even now, Odysseus as he returned to the threshold,\nwas like to escape scot free, making trial of the Achaeans, but he\nhalted by Antinous, and spake to him, saying:\n\n\u201cFriend, give me somewhat; for methinks thou art not the basest of the\nAchaeans, but the best man of them all, for thou art like a king.\nWherefore thou shouldest give me a portion of bread, and that a better\nthan the others; so would I make thee renowned over all the wide earth.\nFor I too, once had a house of mine own among men, a rich man with a\nwealthy house, and many a time would I give to a wanderer, what manner\nof man soever he might be, and in whatsoever need he came. And I had\nthralls out of number, and all else in plenty, wherewith folk live well\nand have a name for riches. But Zeus, the son of Cronos, made me\ndesolate of all,\u2014for surely it was his will,\u2014who sent me with wandering\nsea-robbers to go to Egypt, a far road, to my ruin. And in the river\nAegyptus I stayed my curved ships. Then verily I bade my loved\ncompanions to abide there by the ships, and to guard the ship, and I\nsent forth scouts to range the points of outlook. Now they gave place\nto wantonness, being the fools of their own force, and soon they fell\nto wasting the fields of the Egyptians, exceeding fair, and carried\naway their wives and infant children, and slew the men. And the cry\ncame quickly to the city, and the people heard the shout and came forth\nat the breaking of the day; and all the plain was filled with footmen\nand horsemen and with the glitter of bronze. And Zeus, whose joy is in\nthe thunder, sent an evil panic upon my company, and none durst stand\nand face the foe: for danger encompassed us on every side. There they\nslew many of us with the edge of the sword, and others they led up with\nthem alive to work for them perforce. But they gave me to a friend who\nmet them, to take to Cyprus, even to Dmetor son of Iasus, who ruled\nmightily over Cyprus; and thence, behold, am I now come hither in sore\ndistress.\u201d\n\nThen Antinous answered, and spake, saying: \u201cWhat god hath brought this\nplague hither to trouble the feast? Stand forth thus in the midst, away\nfrom my table, lest thou come soon to a bitter Egypt and a sad Cyprus;\nfor a bold beggar art thou and a shameless. Thou standest by all in\nturn and recklessly they give to thee, for they hold not their hand nor\nfeel any ruth in giving freely of others\u2019 goods, for that each man has\nplenty by him.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels drew back and answered him: \u201cLo now, I\nsee thou hast not wisdom with thy beauty! From out of thine own house\nthou wouldest not give even so much as a grain of salt to thy\nsuppliant, thou who now even at another\u2019s board dost sit, and canst not\nfind it in thy heart to take of the bread and give it me, where there\nis plenty to thy hand.\u201d\n\nHe spake, and Antinous was mightily angered at heart, and looked\nfiercely on him and spake winged words:\n\n\u201cHenceforth, methinks, thou shalt not get thee out with honour from the\nhall, seeing thou dost even rail upon me.\u201d\n\nTherewith he caught up the foot-stool and smote Odysseus at the base of\nthe right shoulder by the back. But he stood firm as a rock, nor reeled\nhe beneath the blow of Antinous, but shook his head in silence,\nbrooding evil in the deep of his heart. Then he went back to the\nthreshold, and sat him there, and laid down his well-filled scrip, and\nspake among the wooers:\n\n\u201cHear me, ye wooers of the renowned queen, and I will say what my\nspirit within me bids me. Verily there is neither pain nor grief of\nheart, when a man is smitten in battle fighting for his own\npossessions, whether cattle or white sheep. But now Antinous hath\nstricken me for my wretched belly\u2019s sake, a thing accursed, that works\nmuch ill for men. Ah, if indeed there be gods and Avengers of beggars,\nmay the issues of death come upon Antinous before his wedding!\u201d\n\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him: \u201cSit and eat thy meat in\nquiet, stranger, or get thee elsewhere, lest the young men drag thee by\nhand or foot through the house for thy evil words, and strip all thy\nflesh from off thee.\u201d\n\nEven so he spake, and they were all exceeding wroth at his word. And on\nthis wise would one of the lordly young men speak:\n\n\u201cAntinous, thou didst ill to strike the hapless wanderer, doomed man\nthat thou art,\u2014if indeed there be a god in heaven. Yea and the gods, in\nthe likeness of strangers from far countries, put on all manner of\nshapes, and wander through the cities, beholding the violence and the\nrighteousness of men.\u201d\n\nSo the wooers spake, but he heeded not their words. Now Telemachus\nnursed in his heart a mighty grief at the smiting of Odysseus, yet he\nlet no tear fall from his eyelids to the ground, but shook his head in\nsilence, brooding evil in the deep of his heart.\n\nNow when wise Penelope heard of the stranger being smitten in the\nhalls, she spake among her maidens, saying:\n\n\u201cOh that Apollo, the famed archer, may so smite thee thyself,\nAntinous!\u201d\n\nAnd the house-dame, Eurynome, answered her, saying: \u201cOh that we might\nwin fulfilment of our prayers! So should not one of these men come to\nthe fair-throned Dawn.\u201d\n\nAnd wise Penelope answered her: \u201cNurse, they are all enemies, for they\nall devise evil continually, but of them all Antinous is the most like\nto black fate. Some hapless stranger is roaming about the house,\nbegging alms of the men, as his need bids him; and all the others\nfilled his wallet and gave him somewhat, but Antinous smote him at the\nbase of the right shoulder with a stool.\u201d\n\nSo she spake among her maidens, sitting in her chamber, while goodly\nOdysseus was at meat. Then she called to her the goodly swineherd and\nspake, saying:\n\n\u201cGo thy way, goodly Eumaeus, and bid the stranger come hither, that I\nmay speak him a word of greeting, and ask him if haply he has heard\ntidings of Odysseus of the hardy heart, or seen him with his eyes; for\nhe seems like one that has wandered far.\u201d\n\nThen didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cQueen, oh that the\nAchaeans would hold their peace! so would he charm thy very heart, such\nthings doth he say. For I kept him three nights and three days I held\nhim in the steading, for to me he came first when he fled from the\nship, yet he had not made an end of the tale of his affliction. Even as\nwhen a man gazes on a singer, whom the gods have taught to sing words\nof yearning joy to mortals, and they have a ceaseless desire to hear\nhim, so long as he will sing; even so he charmed me, sitting by me in\nthe halls. He says that he is a friend of Odysseus and of his house,\none that dwells in Crete, where is the race of Minos. Thence he has\ncome hither even now, with sorrow by the way, onward and yet onward\nwandering; and he stands to it that he has heard tidings of Odysseus\nnigh at hand and yet alive in the fat land of the men of Thesprotia;\nand he is bringing many treasures to his home.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him, saying: \u201cGo, call him hither, that he\nmay speak to me face to face. But let these men sit in the doorway and\ntake their pleasure, or even here in the house, since their heart is\nglad. For their own wealth lies unspoiled at home, bread and sweet\nwine, and thereon do their servants feed. But they resorting to our\nhouse day by day sacrifice oxen and sheep and fat goats, and keep revel\nand drink the dark wine recklessly; and, lo, our great wealth is\nwasted, for there is no man now alive, such as Odysseus was, to keep\nruin from the house. Oh, if Odysseus might come again to his own\ncountry; soon would he and his son avenge the violence of these men!\u201d\n\nEven so she spake, and Telemachus sneezed loudly, and around the roof\nrang wondrously. And Penelope laughed, and straightway spake to Eumaeus\nwinged words:\n\n\u201cGo, call me the stranger, even so, into my presence. Dost thou not\nmark how my son has sneezed a blessing on all my words? Wherefore no\nhalf-wrought doom shall befal the wooers every one, nor shall any avoid\ndeath and the fates. Yet another thing will I say, and do thou ponder\nit in thy heart. If I shall find that he himself speaks nought but\ntruth, I will clothe him with a mantle and a doublet, goodly raiment.\u201d\n\nSo she spake, and the swineherd departed when he heard that saying, and\nstood by the stranger and spake winged words:\n\n\u201cFather and stranger, wise Penelope, the mother of Telemachus, is\ncalling for thee, and her mind bids her inquire as touching her lord,\nalbeit she has sorrowed much already. And if she shall find that thou\ndost speak nought but truth, she will clothe thee in a mantle and a\ndoublet, whereof thou standest most in need. Moreover thou shalt beg\nthy bread through the land and shalt fill thy belly, and whosoever\nwill, shall give to thee.\u201d\n\nThen the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him, saying: \u201cEumaeus, soon\nwould I tell all the truth to the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\nfor well I know his story, and we have borne our travail together. But\nI tremble before the throng of the froward wooers, whose outrage and\nviolence reach even to the iron heaven. For even now, as I was going\nthrough the house, when this man struck and pained me sore, and that\nfor no ill deed, neither Telemachus nor any other kept off the blow.\nWherefore now, bid Penelope tarry in the chambers, for all her\neagerness, till the going down of the sun, and then let her ask me\nconcerning her lord, as touching the day of his returning, and let her\ngive me a seat yet nearer to the fire, for behold, I have sorry\nraiment, and thou knowest it thyself, since I made my supplication\nfirst to thee.\u201d\n\nEven so he spake, and the swineherd departed when he heard that saying.\nAnd as he crossed the threshold Penelope spake to him:\n\n\u201cThou bringest him not, Eumaeus: what means the wanderer hereby? Can it\nbe that he fears some one out of measure, or is he even ashamed of\ntarrying in the house? A shamefaced man makes a bad beggar.\u201d\n\nThen didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: \u201cHe speaks aright, and\nbut as another would deem, in that he shuns the outrage of overweening\nmen. Rather would he have thee wait till the going down of the sun.\nYea, and it is far meeter for thyself, O queen, to utter thy word to\nthe stranger alone, and to listen to his speech.\u201d\n\nThen the wise Penelope answered: \u201cNot witless is the stranger; even as\nhe deems, so it well may be.[32] For there are no mortal men, methinks,\nso wanton as these, and none that devise such infatuate deeds.\u201d\n\n [32] Placing at colon at \u03be\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, and reading \u1f65\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f02\u03bd \u03b5\u1f34\u03b7 (cf. xix.\n 312).\n\n\nSo she spake, and the goodly swineherd departed into the throng of the\nwooers, when he had showed her all his message. And straightway he\nspake to Telemachus winged words, holding his head close to him, that\nthe others might not hear:\n\n\u201cFriend, I am going hence to look after thy swine and the things of the\nfarm, thy livelihood and mine; but do thou take charge of all that is\nhere. Yet first look to thyself and take heed that no evil comes nigh\nthee, for many of the Achaeans have ill will against us, whom may Zeus\nconfound before their mischief falls on us!\u201d\n\nAnd wise Telemachus answered him, and said: \u201cEven so shall it be,\nfather; and do thou get thee on thy way, when thou hast supped. And in\nthe morning come again, and bring fair victims for sacrifice. And all\nthese matters will be a care to me and to the deathless gods.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and the other sat down again on the polished settle; and\nwhen he had satisfied his heart with meat and drink, he went on his way\nto the swine, leaving the courts and the hall full of feasters; and\nthey were making merry with dance and song, for already it was close on\neventide.\n\n\n\nBOOK XVIII.\n\n\nThe fighting at fists of Odysseus with Irus. His admonitions to\nAmphinomus. Penelope appears before the wooers, and draws presents from\nthem.\n\n\nThen up came a common beggar, who was wont to beg through the town of\nIthaca, one that was known among all men for ravening greed, for his\nendless eating and drinking, yet he had no force or might, though he\nwas bulky enough to look on. Arnaeus was his name, for so had his good\nmother given it him at his birth, but all the young men called him\nIrus, because he ran on errands, whensoever any might bid him. So now\nhe came, and would have driven Odysseus from his own house, and began\nreviling him, and spake winged words:\n\n\u201cGet thee hence, old man, from the doorway, lest thou be even haled out\nsoon by the foot. Seest thou not that all are now giving me the wink,\nand bidding me drag thee forth? Nevertheless, I feel shame of the task.\nNay get thee up, lest our quarrel soon pass even to blows.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels looked fiercely on him, and spake\nsaying: \u201cSir, neither in deed nor word do I harm thee, nor do I grudge\nthat any should give to thee, yea though it were a good handful. But\nthis threshold will hold us both, and thou hast no need to be jealous\nfor the sake of other men\u2019s goods. Thou seemest to me to be a wanderer,\neven as I am, and the gods it is that are like to give us gain. Only\nprovoke me not overmuch to buffeting, lest thou anger me, and old\nthough I be I defile thy breast and lips with blood. Thereby should I\nhave the greater quiet to-morrow, for methinks that thou shalt never\nagain come to the hall of Odysseus, son of Laertes\u201d.\n\nThen the beggar Irus spake unto him in anger: \u201cLo now, how trippingly\nand like an old cinder-wife this glutton speaks, on whom I will work my\nevil will, and smite him right and left, and drive all the teeth from\nhis jaws to the ground, like the tusks of a swine that spoils the corn.\nGird thyself now, that even these men all may know our mettle in fight.\nNay, how shouldst thou do battle with a younger man than thou?\u201d\n\nThus did they whet each the other\u2019s rage right manfully before the\nlofty doors upon the polished threshold. And the mighty prince Antinous\nheard the twain, and sweetly he laughed out, and spake among the\nwooers:\n\n\u201cFriends, never before has there been such a thing; such goodly game\nhas a god brought to this house. The stranger yonder and Irus are\nbidding each other to buffets. Quick, let us match them one against the\nother.\u201d\n\nThen all at the word leaped up laughing, and gathered round the ragged\nbeggars, and Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spake among them saying: \u201cHear\nme, ye lordly wooers, and I will say somewhat. Here are goats\u2019 bellies\nlying at the fire, that we laid by at supper-time and filled with fat\nand blood. Now whichsoever of the twain wins, and shows himself the\nbetter man, let him stand up and take his choice of these puddings. And\nfurther, he shall always eat at our feasts, nor will we suffer any\nother beggar to come among us and ask for alms.\u201d\n\nSo spake Antinous, and the saying pleased them well. Then Odysseus of\nmany counsels spake among them craftily:\n\n\u201cFriends, an old man and foredone with travail may in no wise fight\nwith a younger. But my belly\u2019s call is urgent on me, that evil-worker,\nto the end that I may be subdued with stripes. But come now, swear me\nall of you a strong oath, so that none, for the sake of shewing a\nfavour to Irus, may strike me a foul blow with heavy hand and subdue me\nby violence to my foe.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and they all swore not to strike him, as he bade them. Now\nwhen they had sworn and done that oath, the mighty prince Telemachus\nonce more spake among them:\n\n\u201cStranger, if thy heart and lordly spirit urge thee to rid thee of this\nfellow, then fear not any other of the Achaeans, for whoso strikes thee\nshall have to fight with many. Thy host am I, and the princes consent\nwith me, Antinous and Eurymachus, men of wisdom both.\u201d\n\nSo spake he and they all consented thereto. Then Odysseus girt his rags\nabout his loins, and let his thighs be seen, goodly and great, and his\nbroad shoulders and breast and mighty arms were manifest. And Athene\ncame nigh and made greater the limbs of the shepherd of the people.\nThen the wooers were exceedingly amazed, and thus would one speak\nlooking to his neighbour:\n\n\u201cRight soon will Irus, un-Irused, have a bane of his own bringing, such\na thigh as that old man shows from out his rags!\u201d\n\nSo they spake, and the mind of Irus was pitifully stirred; but even so\nthe servants girded him and led him out perforce in great fear, his\nflesh trembling on his limbs. Then Antinous chid him, and spake and\nhailed him:\n\n\u201cThou lubber, better for thee that thou wert not now, nor ever hadst\nbeen born, if indeed thou tremblest before this man, and art so\nterribly afraid; an old man too he is, and foredone with the travail\nthat is come upon him. But I will tell thee plainly, and it shall\nsurely be accomplished. If this man prevail against thee and prove thy\nmaster, I will cast thee into a black ship, and send thee to the\nmainland to Echetus the king, the maimer of all mankind, who will cut\noff thy nose and ears with the pitiless steel, and draw out thy vitals\nand give them raw to dogs to rend.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and yet greater trembling gat hold of the limbs of Irus,\nand they led him into the ring, and the twain put up their hands. Then\nthe steadfast goodly Odysseus mused in himself whether he should smite\nhim in such wise that his life should leave his body, even there where\nhe fell, or whether he should strike him lightly, and stretch him on\nthe earth. And as he thought thereon, this seemed to him the better\nway, to strike lightly, that the Achaeans might not take note of him,\nwho he was. Then the twain put up their hands, and Irus struck at the\nright shoulder, but the other smote him on his neck beneath the ear,\nand crushed in the bones, and straightway the red blood gushed up\nthrough his mouth, and with a moan he fell in the dust, and drave\ntogether his teeth as he kicked the ground. But the proud wooers threw\nup their hands, and died outright for laughter. Then Odysseus seized\nhim by the foot, and dragged him forth through the doorway, till he\ncame to the courtyard and the gates of the gallery, and he set him down\nand rested him against the courtyard wall, and put his staff in his\nhands, and uttering his voice spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cSit thou there now, and scare off swine and dogs, and let not such an\none as thou be lord over strangers and beggars, pitiful as thou art,\nlest haply some worse thing befal thee.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and cast about his shoulders his mean scrip all\ntattered, and the cord therewith to hang it, and he gat him back to the\nthreshold, and sat him down there again. Now the wooers went within\nlaughing sweetly, and greeted him, saying:\n\n\u201cMay Zeus, stranger, and all the other deathless gods give thee thy\ndearest wish, even all thy heart\u2019s desire, seeing that thou hast made\nthat insatiate one to cease from his begging in the land! Soon will we\ntake him over to the mainland, to Echetus the king, the maimer of all\nmankind.\u201d\n\nSo they spake, and goodly Odysseus rejoiced in the omen of the words.\nAnd Antinous set by him the great pudding, stuffed with fat and blood,\nand Amphinomus took up two loaves from the basket, and set them by him\nand pledged him in a golden cup, and spake saying:\n\n\u201cFather and stranger, hail! may happiness be thine in the time to come;\nbut as now, thou art fast holden in many sorrows.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cAmphinomus, verily\nthou seemest to me a prudent man enough; for such too was the father of\nwhom thou art sprung, for I have heard the fair fame of him, how that\nNisus of Dulichium was a good man and a rich, and his son they say thou\nart, and thou seemest a man of understanding. Wherefore I will tell\nthee, and do thou mark and listen to me. Nought feebler doth the earth\nnurture than man, of all the creatures that breathe and move upon the\nface of the earth. Lo, he thinks that he shall never suffer evil in\ntime to come, while the gods give him happiness, and his limbs move\nlightly. But when again the blessed gods have wrought for him sorrow,\neven so he bears it, as he must, with a steadfast heart. For the spirit\nof men upon the earth is even as their day, that comes upon them from\nthe father of gods and men. Yea, and I too once was like to have been\nprosperous among men, but many an infatuate deed I did, giving place to\nmine own hardihood and strength, and trusting to my father and my\nbrethren. Wherefore let no man for ever be lawless any more, but keep\nquietly the gifts of the gods, whatsoever they may give. Such infatuate\ndeeds do I see the wooers devising, as they waste the wealth, and hold\nin no regard the wife of a man, who, methinks, will not much longer be\nfar from his friends and his own land; nay he is very near. But for\nthee, may some god withdraw thee hence to thy home, and mayst thou not\nmeet him in the day when he returns to his own dear country! For not\nwithout blood, as I deem, will they be sundered, the wooers and\nOdysseus, when once he shall have come beneath his own roof.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and poured an offering and then drank of the honey-sweet\nwine, and again set the cup in the hands of the arrayer of the people.\nBut the other went back through the hall, sad at heart and bowing his\nhead; for verily his soul boded evil. Yet even so he avoided not his\nfate, for Athene had bound him likewise to be slain outright at the\nhands and by the spear of Telemachus. So he sat down again on the high\nseat whence he had arisen.\n\nNow the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, put it into the heart of the\ndaughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, to show herself to the wooers, that\nshe might make their heart all flutter with hope, and that she might\nwin yet more worship from her lord and her son than heretofore. To she\nlaughed an idle laugh, and spake to the nurse, and hailed her, saying:\n\n\u201cEurynome, my heart yearns, though before I had no such desire, to show\nmyself to the wooers, hateful as they are. I would also say a word to\nmy son, that will be for his weal, namely, that he should not for ever\nconsort with the proud wooers, who speak friendly with their lips, but\nimagine evil in the latter end.\u201d\n\nThen the housewife, Eurynome, spake to her saying: \u201cYea my child, all\nthis thou hast spoken as is meet. Go then, and declare thy word to thy\nson and hide it not, but first wash thee and anoint thy face, and go\nnot as thou art with thy cheeks all stained with tears. Go, for it is\nlittle good to sorrow always, and never cease. And lo, thy son is now\nof an age to hear thee, he whom thou hast above all things prayed the\ngods that thou mightest see with a beard upon his chin.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered her, saying: \u201cEurynome, speak not thus\ncomfortably to me, for all thy love, bidding me to wash and be anointed\nwith ointment. For the gods that keep Olympus destroyed my bloom, since\nthe day that he departed in the hollow ships. But bid Autonoe and\nHippodameia come to me, to stand by my side in the halls. Alone I will\nnot go among men, for I am ashamed.\u201d\n\nSo she spake, and the old woman passed through the chamber to tell the\nmaidens, and hasten their coming.\n\nThereon the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, had another thought. She shed a\nsweet slumber over the daughter of Icarius, who sank back in sleep, and\nall her joints were loosened as she lay in the chair, and the fair\ngoddess the while was giving her gifts immortal, that all the Achaeans\nmight marvel at her. Her fair face first she steeped with beauty\nimperishable, such as that wherewith the crowned Cytherea is anointed,\nwhen she goes to the lovely dances of the Graces. And she made her\ntaller and greater to behold, and made her whiter than new-sawn ivory.\nNow when she had wrought thus, that fair goddess departed, and the\nwhite-armed handmaidens came forth from the chamber and drew nigh with\na sound of voices. Then sweet sleep left hold of Penelope, and she\nrubbed her cheeks with her hands, and said:\n\n\u201cSurely soft slumber wrapped me round, most wretched though I be. Oh!\nthat pure Artemis would give me so soft a death even now, that I might\nno more waste my life in sorrow of heart, and longing for the manifold\nexcellence of my dear lord, for that he was foremost of the Achaeans.\u201d\n\nWith this word she went down from the shining upper chamber, not alone,\nfor two handmaidens likewise bare her company. But when the fair lady\nhad now come to the wooers, she stood by the pillar of the well-builded\nroof, holding her glistening tire before her face, and on either side\nof her stood a faithful handmaid. And straightway the knees of the\nwooers were loosened, and their hearts were enchanted with love, and\neach one uttered a prayer that he might be her bed-fellow. But she\nspake to Telemachus, her dear son:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, thy mind and thy thoughts are no longer stable as they\nwere. While thou wast still a child, thou hadst a yet quicker and more\ncrafty wit, but now that thou art great of growth, and art come to the\nmeasure of manhood, and a stranger looking to thy stature and thy\nbeauty might say that thou must be some rich man\u2019s son, thy mind and\nthy thoughts are no longer right as of old. For lo, what manner of deed\nhas been done in these halls, in that thou hast suffered thy guest to\nbe thus shamefully dealt with. How would it be now, if the stranger\nsitting thus in our house, were to come to some harm all through this\nevil handling? Shame and disgrace would be thine henceforth among men.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered her: \u201cMother mine, as to this matter I\ncount it no blame that thou art angered. Yet have I knowledge and\nunderstanding of each thing, of the good and of the evil; but\nheretofore I was a child. Howbeit I cannot devise all things according\nto wisdom, for these men in their evil counsel drive me from my wits,\non this side and on that, and there is none to aid me. Howsoever this\nbattle between Irus and the stranger did not fall out as the wooers\nwould have had it, but the stranger proved the better man. Would to\nFather Zeus and Athene and Apollo, that the wooers in our halls were\neven now thus vanquished, and wagging their heads, some in the court,\nand some within the house, and that the limbs of each man were loosened\nin such fashion as Irus yonder sits now, by the courtyard gates wagging\nhis head, like a drunken man, and cannot stand upright on his feet, nor\nyet get him home to his own place, seeing that his limbs are loosened!\u201d\n\nThus they spake one to another. But Eurymachus spake to Penelope,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cDaughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, if all the Achaeans in Iasian\nArgos could behold thee, even a greater press of wooers would feast in\nyour halls from to-morrow\u2019s dawn, since thou dost surpass all women in\nbeauty and stature, and within in wisdom of mind.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him: \u201cEurymachus, surely my excellence,\nboth of face and form, the gods destroyed in the day when the Argives\nembarked for Ilios, and with them went my lord Odysseus. If but he\nmight come and watch over this my life, greater thus would be my fame\nand fairer! But now am I in sorrow; such a host of ills some god has\nsent against me. Ah, well do I remember, when he set forth and left his\nown country, how he took me by the right hand at the wrist and spake,\nsaying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Lady, methinks that all the goodly-greaved Achaeans will not win a\nsafe return from Troy; for the Trojans too, they say, are good men at\narms, as spearsmen, and bowmen, and drivers of fleet horses, such as\never most swiftly determine the great strife of equal battle. Wherefore\nI know not if the gods will suffer me to return, or whether I shall be\ncut off there in Troy; so do thou have a care for all these things. Be\nmindful of my father and my mother in the halls, even as now thou art,\nor yet more than now, while I am far away. But when thou seest thy son\na bearded man, marry whom thou wilt and leave thine own house.\u2019\n\n\u201cEven so did he speak, and now all these things have an end. The night\nshall come when a hateful marriage shall find me out, me most luckless,\nwhose good hap Zeus has taken away. But furthermore this sore trouble\nhas come on my heart and soul; for this was not the manner of wooers in\ntime past. Whoso wish to woo a good lady and the daughter of a rich\nman, and vie one with another, themselves bring with them oxen of their\nown and goodly flocks, a banquet for the friends of the bride, and they\ngive the lady splendid gifts, but do not devour another\u2019s livelihood\nwithout atonement.\u201d\n\nThus she spake, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus rejoiced because she\ndrew from them gifts, and beguiled their souls with soothing words,\nwhile her heart was set on other things.\n\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered her again: \u201cDaughter of\nIcarius, wise Penelope, the gifts which any of the Achaeans may choose\nto bring hither, do thou take; for it were ill to withhold a gift. But\nwe for our part will neither go to our lands nor otherwhere, before\nthou art wedded to the best man of the Achaeans.\u201d\n\nSo spake Antinous, and the saying pleased them well, and each man sent\na henchman to bring his gifts. For Antinous his henchman bare a\nbroidered robe, great and very fair, wherein were golden brooches,\ntwelve in all, fitted with well bent clasps. And the henchman\nstraightway bare Eurymachus a golden chain of curious work, strung with\namber beads, shining like the sun. And his squires bare for Eurydamas a\npair of ear-rings, with three drops well wrought, and much grace shone\nfrom them. And out of the house of Peisander the prince, the son of\nPolyctor, the squire brought a necklet, a very lovely jewel. And\nlikewise the Achaeans brought each one some other beautiful gift.\n\nThen the fair lady went aloft to her upper chamber, and her attendant\nmaidens bare for her the lovely gifts, while the wooers turned to\ndancing and the delight of song, and therein took their pleasure, and\nawaited the coming of eventide. And dark evening came on them at their\npastime. Anon they set up three braziers in the halls, to give them\nlight, and on these they laid firewood all around, faggots seasoned\nlong since and sere, and new split with the axe. And midway by the\nbraziers they placed torches, and the maids of Odysseus, of the hardy\nheart, held up the lights in turn. Then the prince Odysseus of many\ncounsels himself spake among them saying:\n\n\u201cYe maidens of Odysseus, the lord so long afar, get ye into the\nchambers where the honoured queen abides, and twist the yarn at her\nside, and gladden her heart as ye sit in the chamber, or card the wools\nwith your hands; but I will minister light to all these that are here.\nFor even if they are minded to wait the throned Dawn, they shall not\noutstay me, so long enduring am I.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, but they laughed and looked one at the other. And the fair\nMelantho chid him shamefully, Melantho that Dolius begat, but Penelope\nreared, and entreated her tenderly as she had been her own child, and\ngave her playthings to her heart\u2019s desire. Yet, for all that, sorrow\nfor Penelope touched not her heart, but she loved Eurymachus and was\nhis paramour. Now she chid Odysseus with railing words:\n\n\u201cWretched guest, surely thou art some brain-struck man, seeing that\nthou dost not choose to go and sleep at a smithy, or at some place of\ncommon resort, but here thou pratest much and boldly among many lords\nand hast no fear at heart. Verily wine has got about thy wits, or\nperchance thou art always of this mind, and so thou dost babble idly.\nArt thou beside thyself for joy, because thou hast beaten the beggar\nIrus? Take heed lest a better man than Irus rise up presently against\nthee, to lay his mighty hands about thy head and bedabble thee with\nblood, and send thee hence from the house.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels looked fiercely on her, and said: \u201cYea,\nstraight will I go yonder and tell Telemachus hereof, thou shameless\nthing, for this thy speech, that forthwith he may cut thee limb from\nlimb.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and with his saying scared away the women, who fled\nthrough the hall, and the knees of each were loosened for fear, for\nthey deemed that his words were true. But Odysseus took his stand by\nthe burning braziers, tending the lights, and gazed on all the men: but\nfar other matters he pondered in his heart, things not to be\nunfulfilled.\n\nNow Athene would in no wise suffer the lordly wooers to abstain from\nbiting scorn, that the pain might sink yet the deeper into the heart of\nOdysseus, son of Laertes. So Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak\namong them, girding at Odysseus, and so made mirth for his friends:\n\n\u201cHear me ye wooers of the queen renowned, that I may say that which my\nspirit within me bids me. Not without the gods\u2019 will has this man come\nto the house of Odysseus; methinks at least that the torchlight flares\nforth from[33] that head of his, for there are no hairs on it, nay\nnever so thin.\u201d\n\n [33] Accepting the conjecture \u03ba\u1f70\u03ba = \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 for the MSS. \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76.\n\n\nHe spake and withal addressed Odysseus, waster of cities: \u201cStranger,\nwouldest thou indeed be my hireling, if I would take thee for my man,\nat an upland farm, and thy wages shall be assured thee, and there shalt\nthou gather stones for walls and plant tall trees? There would I\nprovide thee bread continual, and clothe thee with raiment, and give\nthee shoes for thy feet. Howbeit, since thou art practised only in\nevil, thou wilt not care to go to the labours of the field, but wilt\nchoose rather to go louting through the land, that thou mayst have\nwherewithal to feed thine insatiate belly.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered him and said: \u201cEurymachus,\nwould that there might be a trial of labour between us twain, in the\nseason of spring, when the long days begin! In the deep grass might it\nbe, and I should have a crooked scythe, and thou another like it, that\nwe might try each the other in the matter of labour, fasting till late\neventide, and grass there should be in plenty. Or would again, that\nthere were oxen to drive, the best there may be, large and tawny, both\nwell filled with fodder, of equal age and force to bear the yoke and of\nstrength untiring! And it should be a field of four ploughgates, and\nthe clod should yield before the ploughshare. Then shouldest thou see\nme, whether or no I would cut a clean furrow unbroken before me. Or\nwould that this very day Cronion might waken war whence he would, and\nthat I had a shield and two spears, and a helmet all of bronze, close\nfitting on my temples! Then shouldest thou see me mingling in the\nforefront of the battle, nor speak and taunt me with this my belly.\nNay, thou art exceeding wanton and thy heart is hard, and thou thinkest\nthyself some great one and mighty, because thou consortest with few men\nand feeble. Ah, if Odysseus might but return and come to his own\ncountry, right soon would yonder doors full wide as they are, prove all\ntoo strait for thee in thy flight through the doorway!\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and Eurymachus waxed yet the more wroth at heart, and\nlooking fiercely on him spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cAh, wretch that thou art, right soon will I work thee mischief, so\nboldly thou pratest among many lords, and hast no fear at heart. Verily\nwine has got about thy wits, or perchance thou art always of this mind,\nand so thou dost babble idly. Art thou beside thyself for joy, because\nthou hast beaten the beggar Irus?\u201d\n\nTherewith he caught up a footstool, but Odysseus sat him down at the\nknees of Amphinomus of Dulichium, in dread of Eurymachus. And\nEurymachus cast and smote the cup-bearer on the right hand, and the\nladle cup dropped to the ground with a clang, while the young man\ngroaned and fell backwards in the dust. Then the wooers clamoured\nthrough the shadowy halls, and thus one would say looking to his\nneighbour:\n\n\u201cWould that our wandering guest had perished otherwhere, or ever he\ncame hither; so should he never have made all this tumult in our midst!\nBut now we are all at strife about beggars, and there will be no more\njoy of the good feast, for worse things have their way.\u201d\n\nThen the mighty prince Telemachus spake among them:\n\n\u201cSirs, ye are mad; now doth your mood betray that ye have eaten and\ndrunken; some one of the gods is surely moving you. Nay, now that ye\nhave feasted well, go home and lay you to rest, since your spirit so\nbids; for as for me, I drive no man hence.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and they all bit their lips and marvelled at Telemachus,\nin that he spake boldly. Then Amphinomus made harangue, and spake among\nthem, Amphinomus, the famous son of Nisus the prince, the son of\nAretias:\n\n\u201cFriends, when a righteous word has been spoken, none surely would\nrebuke another with hard speech and be angry. Misuse ye not this\nstranger, neither any of the thralls that are in the house of godlike\nOdysseus. But come, let the wine-bearer pour for libation into each cup\nin turn, that after the drink-offering we may get us home to bed. But\nthe stranger let us leave in the halls of Odysseus for a charge to\nTelemachus: for to his home has he come.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and his word was well-pleasing to them all. Then the\nlord Mulius mixed for them the bowl, the henchman out of Dulichium, who\nwas squire of Amphinomus. And he stood by all and served it to them in\ntheir turn; and they poured forth before the blessed gods, and drank\nthe honey-sweet wine. Now when they had poured forth and had drunken to\ntheir hearts\u2019 content, they departed to lie down, each one to his own\nhouse.\n\n\n\nBOOK XIX.\n\n\nTelemachus removes the arms out of the hall. Odysseus disburseth with\nPenelope. And is known by his nurse, but concealed. And the hunting of\nthe boar upon that occasion related.\n\n\nNow the goodly Odysseus was left behind in the hall, devising with\nAthene\u2019s aid the slaying of the wooers, and straightway he spake winged\nwords to Telemachus:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, we must needs lay by the weapons of war within, every one;\nand when the wooers miss them and ask thee concerning them, thou shalt\nbeguile them with soft words, saying:\n\n\u201cOut of the smoke I laid them by, since they were no longer like those\nthat Odysseus left behind him of old, when he went to Troy, but they\nare wholly marred, so mightily hath passed upon them the vapour of\nfire. Moreover some god hath put into my heart this other and greater\ncare, that perchance when ye are heated with wine, ye set a quarrel\nbetween you and wound one the other, and thereby shame the feast and\nthe wooing; for iron of itself draws a man thereto.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and Telemachus hearkened to his dear father, and called\nforth to him the nurse Eurycleia and spake to her, saying:\n\n\u201cNurse, come now I pray thee, shut up the women in their chambers till\nI shall have laid by in the armoury the goodly weapons of my father,\nwhich all uncared for the smoke dims in the hall, since my father went\nhence, and I was still but a child. Now I wish to lay them by where the\nvapour of the fire will not reach them.\u201d\n\nThen the good nurse Eurycleia answered him, saying: \u201cAh, my child, if\never thou wouldest but take careful thought in such wise as to mind the\nhouse, and guard all this wealth! But come, who shall fetch the light\nand bear it, if thou hast thy way, since thou wouldest not that the\nmaidens, who might have given light, should go before thee?\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus made answer to her: \u201cThis stranger here, for I\nwill keep no man in idleness who eats of my bread, even if he have come\nfrom afar.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and wingless her speech remained, and she closed the\ndoors of the fair-lying chambers. Then they twain sprang up, Odysseus\nand his renowned son, and set to carry within the helmets and the bossy\nshields, and the sharp-pointed spears; and before them Pallas Athene\nbare a golden cresset and cast a most lovely light. Thereon Telemachus\nspake to his father suddenly:\n\n\u201cFather, surely a great marvel is this that I behold with mine eyes;\nmeseems, at least, that the walls of the hall and the fair main-beams\nof the roof and the cross-beams of pine, and the pillars that run\naloft, are bright as it were with flaming fire. Verily some god is\nwithin, of those that hold the wide heaven.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him and said: \u201cHold thy peace\nand keep thy thoughts in check and ask not hereof. Lo, this is the wont\nof the gods that hold Olympus. But do thou go and lay thee down, and I\nwill abide here, that I may yet further provoke the maids and thy\nmother to answer; and she in her sorrow will ask me concerning each\nthing, one by one.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and Telemachus passed out through the hall to his chamber\nto lie down, by the light of the flaming torches, even to the chamber\nwhere of old he took his rest, when sweet sleep came over him. There\nnow too he lay down and awaited the bright Dawn. But goodly Odysseus\nwas left behind in the hall, devising with Athene\u2019s aid the slaying of\nthe wooers.\n\nNow forth from her chamber came the wise Penelope, like Artemis or\ngolden Aphrodite, and they set a chair for her hard by before the fire,\nwhere she was wont to sit, a chair well-wrought and inlaid with ivory\nand silver, which on a time the craftsman Icmalius had fashioned, and\nhad joined thereto a footstool, that was part of the chair, whereon a\ngreat fleece was used to be laid. Here then, the wise Penelope sat her\ndown, and next came white-armed handmaids from the women\u2019s chamber, and\nbegan to take away the many fragments of food, and the tables and the\ncups whence the proud lords had been drinking, and they raked out the\nfire from the braziers on to the floor, and piled many fresh logs upon\nthem, to give light and warmth.\n\nThen Melantho began to revile Odysseus yet a second time, saying:\n\u201cStranger, wilt thou still be a plague to us here, circling round the\nhouse in the night, and spying the women? Nay, get thee forth, thou\nwretched thing, and be thankful for thy supper, or straightway shalt\nthou even be smitten with a torch and so fare out of the doors.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels looked fiercely on her, and said: \u201cGood\nwoman, what possesses thee to assail me thus out of an angry heart? Is\nit because I go filthy and am clothed about in sorry raiment, and beg\nthrough the land, for necessity is laid on me? This is the manner of\nbeggars and of wandering men. For I too once had a house of mine own\namong men, a rich man with a wealthy house, and many a time would I\ngive to a wanderer, what manner of man soever he might be, and in\nwhatsoever need he came. And I had countless thralls, and all else in\nplenty, whereby folk live well and have a name for riches. But Zeus,\nthe son of Cronos, made me desolate of all, for surely it was his will.\nWherefore, woman, see lest some day thou too lose all thy fine show\nwherein thou now excellest among the handmaids, as well may chance, if\nthy mistress be provoked to anger with thee, or if Odysseus come home,\nfor there is yet a place for hope. And even if he hath perished as ye\ndeem, and is never more to return, yet by Apollo\u2019s grace he hath a son\nlike him, Telemachus, and none of the women works wantonness in his\nhalls without his knowledge, for he is no longer of an age not to mark\nit,\n\nThus he spake, and the wise Penelope heard him, and rebuked the\nhandmaid, and spake and hailed her:\n\n\u201cThou reckless thing and unabashed, be sure thy great sin is not hidden\nfrom me, and thy blood shall be on thine own head for the same! Four\nthou knewest right well, in that thou hadst heard it from my lips, how\nthat I was minded to ask the stranger in my halls for tidings of my\nlord; for I am grievously afflicted.\u201d\n\nTherewith she spake likewise to the housedame, Eurynome, saying:\n\n\u201cEurynome, bring hither a settle with a fleece thereon, that the\nstranger may sit and speak with me and hear my words, for I would ask\nhim all his story.\u201d\n\nSo she spake, and the nurse made haste and brought a polished settle,\nand cast a fleece thereon; and then the steadfast goodly Odysseus sat\nhim down there, and the wise Penelope spake first, saying:\n\n\u201cStranger, I will make bold first to ask thee this: who art thou of the\nsons of men, and whence? Where is thy city, and where are they that\nbegat thee?\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered her and said: \u201cLady, no one of\nmortal men in the wide world could find fault with thee, for lo, thy\nfame goes up to the wide heaven, as doth the fame of a blameless king,\none that fears the gods and reigns among many men and mighty,\nmaintaining right, and the black earth bears wheat and barley, and the\ntrees are laden with fruit, and the sheep bring forth and fail not, and\nthe sea gives store of fish, and all out of his good guidance, and the\npeople prosper under him. Wherefore do thou ask me now in thy house all\nelse that thou wilt, but inquire not concerning my race and mine own\ncountry, lest as I think thereupon thou fill my heart the more with\npains, for I am a man of many sorrows. Moreover it beseems me not to\nsit weeping and wailing in another\u2019s house, for it is little good to\nmourn always without ceasing, lest perchance one of the maidens, or\neven thyself, be angry with me and say that I swim in tears, as one\nthat is heavy with wine.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him, and said: \u201cStranger, surely my\nexcellence, both of face and form, the gods destroyed, in the day when\nthe Argives embarked for Ilios, and with them went my lord Odysseus. If\nbut he might come and watch over this my life, greater and fairer thus\nwould be my fame! But now am I in sorrow, such a host of ills some god\nhas sent against me. For all the noblest that are princes in the isles,\nin Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus, and they that dwell around\neven in clear-seen Ithaca, these are wooing me against my will, and\ndevouring the house. Wherefore I take no heed of strangers, nor\nsuppliants, nor at all of heralds, the craftsmen of the people. But I\nwaste my heart away in longing for Odysseus; so they speed on my\nmarriage and I weave a web of wiles. First some god put it into my\nheart to set up a great web in the halls, and thereat to weave a robe\nfine of woof and very wide; and anon I spake among them, saying: \u2018Ye\nprincely youths, my wooers, now that goodly Odysseus is dead, do ye\nabide patiently, how eager soever to speed on this marriage of mine,\ntill I finish the robe. I would not that the threads perish to no\navail, even this shroud for the hero Laertes, against the day when the\nruinous doom shall bring him low, of death that lays men at their\nlength. So shall none of the Achaean women in the land count it blame\nin me, as well might be, were he to lie without a winding sheet, a man\nthat had gotten great possessions.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake I, and their high hearts consented thereto. So then in the\ndaytime I would weave the mighty web, and in the night unravel the\nsame, when I had let place the torches by me. Thus for the space of\nthree years I hid the thing by craft and beguiled the minds of the\nAchaeans. But when the fourth year arrived, and the seasons came round\nas the months waned, and many days were accomplished, then it was that\nby help of the handmaids, shameless things and reckless, the wooers\ncame and trapped me, and chid me loudly. Thus did I finish the web by\nno will of mine, for so I must. And now I can neither escape the\nmarriage nor devise any further counsel, and my parents are instant\nwith me to marry, and my son chafes that these men devour his\nlivelihood, as he takes note of all; for by this time he has come to\nman\u2019s estate; and is full able to care for a household, for one to\nwhich Zeus vouchsafes honour. But even so tell me of thine own stock,\nwhence thou art, for thou art not sprung of oak or rock, whereof old\ntales tell.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered her and said:\n\n\u201cO wife revered of Odysseus, son of Laertes, wilt thou never have done\nasking me about mine own race? Nay, but I will tell thee: yet surely\nthou wilt give me over to sorrows yet more than those wherein I am\nholden, for so it ever is when a man has been afar from his own\ncountry, so long as now I am, wandering in sore pain to many cities of\nmortals. Yet even so I will tell thee what thou askest and inquirest.\nThere is a land called Crete in the midst of the wine-dark sea, a fair\nland and a rich, begirt with water, and therein are many men\ninnumerable, and ninety cities. And all have not the same speech, but\nthere is confusion of tongues; there dwell Achaeans and there too\nCretans of Crete, high of heart, and Cydonians there and Dorians of\nwaving plumes and goodly Pelasgians. And among these cities is the\nmighty city Cnosus, wherein Minos when he was nine years old began to\nrule, he who held converse with great Zeus, and was the father of my\nfather, even of Deucalion, high of heart. Now Deucalion begat me and\nIdomeneus the prince. Howbeit, he had gone in his beaked ships up into\nIlios, with the sons of Atreus; but my famed name is Aethon, being the\nyounger of the twain and he was the first born and the better man.\nThere I saw Odysseus, and gave him guest-gifts, for the might of the\nwind bare him too to Crete, as he was making for Troy land, and had\ndriven him wandering past Malea. So he stayed his ships in Amnisus,\nwhereby is the cave of Eilithyia, in havens hard to win, and scarce he\nescaped the tempest. Anon he came up to the city and asked for\nIdomeneus, saying that he was his friend and held by him in love and\nhonour. But it was now the tenth or the eleventh dawn since Idomeneus\nhad gone in his beaked ships up into Ilios. Then I led him to the\nhouse, and gave him good entertainment with all loving-kindness out of\nthe plenty in my house, and for him and for the rest of his company,\nthat went with him, I gathered and gave barley meal and dark wine out\nof the public store, and oxen to sacrifice to his heart\u2019s desire. There\nthe goodly Achaeans abode twelve days, for the strong North Wind penned\nthem there, and suffered them not to stay upon the coast, for some\nangry god had roused it. On the thirteenth day the wind fell, and then\nthey lifted anchor.\u201d\n\nSo he told many a false tale in the likeness of truth, and her tears\nflowed as she listened, and her flesh melted. And even as the snow\nmelts in the high places of the hills, the snow that the South-East\nwind has thawed, when the West has scattered it abroad, and as it\nwastes the river streams run full, even so her fair cheeks melted\nbeneath her tears, as she wept her own lord, who even then was sitting\nby her. Now Odysseus had compassion of heart upon his wife in her\nlamenting, but his eyes kept steadfast between his eyelids as it were\nhorn or iron, and craftily he hid his tears. But she, when she had\ntaken her fill of tearful lamentation, answered him in turn and spake,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cFriend as thou art, even now I think to make trial of thee, and learn\nwhether in very truth thou didst entertain my lord there in thy halls\nwith his godlike company, as thou sayest. Tell me what manner of\nraiment he was clothed in about his body, and what manner of man he was\nhimself, and tell me of his fellows that went with him.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cLady, it is hard\nfor one so long parted from him to tell thee all this, for it is now\nthe twentieth year since he went thither and left my country. Yet even\nso I will tell thee as I see him in spirit. Goodly Odysseus wore a\nthick purple mantle, twofold, which had a brooch fashioned in gold,\nwith two sheathes for the pins, and on the face of it was a curious\ndevice: a hound in his forepaws held a dappled fawn and gazed on it as\nit writhed. And all men marvelled at the workmanship, how, wrought as\nthey were in gold, the hound was gazing on the fawn and strangling it,\nand the fawn was writhing with his feet and striving to flee. Moreover,\nI marked the shining doublet about his body, like the gleam over the\nskin of a dried onion, so smooth it was, and glistering as the sun;\ntruly many women looked thereon and wondered. Yet another thing will I\ntell thee, and do thou ponder it in thy heart. I know not if Odysseus\nwas thus clothed upon at home, or if one of his fellows gave him the\nraiment as he went on board the swift ship, or even it may be some\nstranger, seeing that to many men was Odysseus dear, for few of the\nAchaeans were his peers. I, too, gave him a sword of bronze, and a fair\npurple mantle with double fold, and a tasseled doublet, and I sent him\naway with all honour on his decked ship. Moreover, a henchman bare him\ncompany, somewhat older than he, and I will tell thee of him too, what\nmanner of man he was. He was round-shouldered, black-skinned, and\ncurly-headed, his name Eurybates; and Odysseus honoured him above all\nhis company, because in all things he was like-minded with himself.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and in her heart he stirred yet more the desire of\nweeping, as she knew the certain tokens that Odysseus showed her. So\nwhen she had taken her fill of tearful lament, then she answered him,\nand spake saying:\n\n\u201cNow verily, stranger, thou that even before wert held in pity, shalt\nbe dear and honourable in my halls, for it was I who gave him these\ngarments, as judging from thy words, and folded them myself, and\nbrought them from the chamber, and added besides the shining brooch to\nbe his jewel. But him I shall never welcome back, returned home to his\nown dear country. Wherefore with an evil fate it was that Odysseus went\nhence in the hollow ship to see that evil Ilios, never to be named.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cWife revered of\nOdysseus, son of Laertes, destroy not now thy fair flesh any more, nor\nwaste thy heart with weeping for thy lord;\u2014not that I count it any\nblame in thee, for many a woman weeps that has lost her wedded lord, to\nwhom she has borne children in her love,\u2014albeit a far other man than\nOdysseus, who, they say, is like the gods. Nay, cease from thy\nlamenting, and lay up my word in thy heart; for I will tell thee\nwithout fail, and will hide nought, how but lately I heard tell of the\nreturn of Odysseus, that he is nigh at hand, and yet alive in the fat\nland of the men of Thesprotia, and is bringing with him many choice\ntreasures, as he begs through the land. But he has lost his dear\ncompanions and his hollow ship on the wine-dark sea, on his way from\nthe isle Thrinacia: for Zeus and Helios had a grudge against him,\nbecause his company had slain the kine of Helios. They for their part\nall perished in the wash of the sea, but the wave cast him on the keel\nof the ship out upon the coast, on the land of the Phaeacians that are\nnear of kin to the gods, and they did him all honour heartily as unto a\ngod, and gave him many gifts, and themselves would fain have sent him\nscathless home. Yea and Odysseus would have been here long since, but\nhe thought it more profitable to gather wealth, as he journeyed over\nwide lands; so truly is Odysseus skilled in gainful arts above all men\nupon earth, nor may any mortal men contend with him. So Pheidon king of\nthe Thesprotians told me. Moreover he sware, in mine own presence, as\nhe poured the drink-offering in his house, that the ship was drawn down\nto the sea and his company were ready, who were to convey him to his\nown dear country. But me he first sent off, for it chanced that a ship\nof the Thesprotians was on her way to Dulichium, a land rich in grain.\nAnd he showed me all the wealth that Odysseus had gathered, yea it\nwould suffice for his children after him, even to the tenth generation,\nso great were the treasures he had stored in the chambers of the king.\nAs for him he had gone, he said, to Dodona to hear the counsel of Zeus,\nfrom the high leafy oak tree of the god, how he should return to his\nown dear country, having now been long afar, whether openly or by\nstealth.\n\n\u201cIn this wise, as I tell thee, he is safe and will come shortly, and\nvery near he is and will not much longer be far from his friends and\nhis own country; yet withal I will give thee my oath on it. Zeus be my\nwitness first, of gods the highest and best, and the hearth of noble\nOdysseus whereunto I am come, that all these things shall surely be\naccomplished even as I tell thee. In this same year Odysseus shall come\nhither, as the old moon wanes and the new is born.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him: \u201cAh! stranger, would that this word\nmay be accomplished. Soon shouldst thou be aware of kindness and many a\ngift at my hands, so that whoso met with thee would call thee blessed.\nBut on this wise my heart has a boding, and so it shall be. Neither\nshall Odysseus come home any more, nor shalt thou gain an escort hence,\nsince there are not now such masters in the house as Odysseus was among\nmen,\u2014if ever such an one there was,\u2014to welcome guests revered and speed\nthem on their way. But do ye, my handmaids, wash this man\u2019s feet and\nstrew a couch for him, bedding and mantles and shining blankets, that\nwell and warmly he may come to the time of golden-throned Dawn. And\nvery early in the morning bathe him and anoint him, that within the\nhouse beside Telemachus he may eat meat, sitting quietly in the hall.\nAnd it shall be the worse for any hurtful man of the wooers, that vexes\nthe stranger, yea he shall not henceforth profit himself here, for all\nhis sore anger. For how shalt thou learn concerning me, stranger,\nwhether indeed I excel all women in wit and thrifty device, if all\nunkempt and evil clad thou sittest at supper in my halls? Man\u2019s life is\nbrief enough! And if any be a hard man and hard at heart, all men cry\nevil on him for the time to come, while yet he lives, and all men mock\nhim when he is dead. But if any be a blameless man and blameless of\nheart, his guests spread abroad his fame over the whole earth and many\npeople call him noble.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered her and said: \u201cO wife revered\nof Odysseus, son of Laertes, mantles verily and shining blankets are\nhateful to me, since first I left behind me the snowy hills of Crete,\nvoyaging in the long-oared galley; nay, I will lie as in time past I\nwas used to rest through the sleepless nights. For full many a night I\nhave lain on an unsightly bed, and awaited the bright throned Dawn. And\nbaths for the feet are no longer my delight, nor shall any women of\nthose who are serving maidens in thy house touch my foot, unless there\nchance to be some old wife, true of heart, one that has borne as much\ntrouble as myself; I would not grudge such an one to touch my feet.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him: \u201cDear stranger, for never yet has\nthere come to my house, of strangers from afar, a dearer man or so\ndiscreet as thou, uttering so heedfully the words of wisdom. I have an\nancient woman of an understanding heart, that diligently nursed and\ntended that hapless man my lord, she took him in her arms in the hour\nwhen his mother bare him. She will wash thy feet, albeit her strength\nis frail. Up now, wise Eurycleia, and wash this man, whose years are\nthe same as thy master\u2019s. Yea and perchance such even now are the feet\nof Odysseus, and such too his hands, for quickly men age in misery.\u201d\n\nSo she spake, and the old woman covered her face with her hands and\nshed hot tears, and spake a word of lamentation, saying:\n\n\u201cAh, woe is me, child, for thy sake, all helpless that I am! Surely\nZeus hated thee above all men, though thou hadst a god-fearing spirit!\nFor never yet did any mortal burn so many fat pieces of the thigh and\nso many choice hecatombs to Zeus, whose joy is in the thunder, as thou\ndidst give to him, praying that so thou mightest grow to a smooth old\nage and rear thy renowned son. But now from thee alone hath Zeus wholly\ncut off the day of thy returning. Haply at him too did the women mock\nin a strange land afar, whensoever he came to the famous palace of any\nlord, even as here these shameless ones all mock at thee. To shun their\ninsults and many taunts it is that thou sufferest them not to wash thy\nfeet, but the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, hath bidden me that\nam right willing to this task. Wherefore I will wash thy feet, both for\nPenelope\u2019s sake and for thine own, for that my heart within me is moved\nand troubled. But come, mark the word that I shall speak. Many\nstrangers travel-worn have ere now come hither, but I say that I have\nnever seen any so like another, as thou art like Odysseus, in fashion\nin voice and in feet.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cOld wife, even so\nall men declare, that have beheld us twain, that we favour each other\nexceedingly, even as thou dost mark and say.\u201d\n\nThereupon the crone took the shining cauldron, wherefrom[34] she set to\nwash his feet, and poured in much cold water and next mingled therewith\nthe warm. Now Odysseus sat aloof from the hearth, and of a sudden he\nturned his face to the darkness, for anon he had a misgiving of heart\nlest when she handled him she might know the scar again, and all should\nbe revealed. Now she drew near her lord to wash him, and straightway\nshe knew the scar of the wound, that the boar had dealt him with his\nwhite tusk long ago, when Odysseus went to Parnassus to see Autolycus,\nand the sons of Autolycus, his mother\u2019s noble father, who outdid all\nmen in thievery and skill in swearing. This skill was the gift of the\ngod himself, even Hermes, for that he burned to him the well-pleasing\nsacrifice of the thighs of lambs and kids; wherefore Hermes abetted him\ngladly. Now Autolycus once had gone to the rich land of Ithaca, and\nfound his daughter\u2019s son a child new-born, and when he was making an\nend of supper, behold, Eurycleia set the babe on his knees, and spake\nand hailed him: \u201cAutolycus find now a name thyself to give thy child\u2019s\nown son; for lo, he is a child of many prayers.\u201d\n\n [34] Reading \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6.\n\n\nThen Autolycus made answer and spake: \u201cMy daughter and my daughter\u2019s\nlord, give ye him whatsoever name I tell you. Forasmuch as I am come\nhither in wrath against many a one, both man and woman, over the\nfruitful earth, wherefore let the child\u2019s name be \u2018a man of wrath,\u2019\nOdysseus. But when the child reaches his full growth, and comes to the\ngreat house of his mother\u2019s kin at Parnassus, whereby are my\npossessions, I will give him a gift out of these and send him on his\nway rejoicing.\u201d\n\nTherefore it was that Odysseus went to receive the splendid gifts. And\nAutolycus and the sons of Autolycus grasped his hands and greeted him\nwith gentle words, and Amphithea, his mother\u2019s mother, clasped him in\nher arms and kissed his face and both his fair eyes. Then Autolycus\ncalled to his renowned sons to get ready the meal, and they hearkened\nto the call. So presently they led in a five-year-old bull, which they\nflayed and busily prepared, and cut up all the limbs and deftly chopped\nthem small, and pierced them with spits and roasted them cunningly,\ndividing the messes. So for that livelong day they feasted till the\ngoing down of the sun, and their soul lacked not ought of the equal\nbanquet. But when the sun sank and darkness came on, they laid them to\nrest and took the boon of sleep.\n\nNow so soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, they all went\nforth to the chase, the hounds and the sons of Autolycus, and with them\nwent the goodly Odysseus. So they fared up the steep hill of wood-clad\nParnassus, and quickly they came to the windy hollows. Now the sun was\nbut just striking on the fields, and was come forth from the soft\nflowing stream of deep Oceanus. Then the beaters reached a glade of the\nwoodland, and before them went the hounds tracking a scent, but behind\ncame the sons of Autolycus, and among them goodly Odysseus followed\nclose on the hounds, swaying a long spear. Thereby in a thick lair was\na great boar lying, and through the coppice the force of the wet winds\nblew never, neither did the bright sun light on it with his rays, nor\ncould the rain pierce through, so thick it was, and of fallen leaves\nthere was great plenty therein. Then the tramp of the men\u2019s feet and of\nthe dogs came upon the boar, as they pressed on in the chase, and forth\nfrom his lair he sprang towards them with crest well bristled and fire\nshining in his eyes, and stood at bay before them all. Then Odysseus\nwas the first to rush in, holding his spear aloft in his strong hand,\nmost eager to stab him; but the boar was too quick and drave a gash\nabove the knee, ripping deep into the flesh with his tusk as he charged\nsideways, but he reached not to the bone of the man. Then Odysseus\naimed well and smote him on his right shoulder, so that the point of\nthe bright spear went clean through, and the boar fell in the dust with\na cry, and his life passed from him. Then the dear sons of Autolycus\nbegan to busy them with the carcase, and as for the wound of the noble\ngodlike Odysseus, they bound it up skilfully, and stayed the black\nblood with a song of healing, and straight-way returned to the house of\ntheir dear father. Then Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus got him\nwell healed of his hurt, and gave him splendid gifts, and quickly sent\nhim with all love to Ithaca, gladly speeding a glad guest. There his\nfather and lady mother were glad of his returning, and asked him of all\nhis adventures, and of his wound how he came by it, and duly he told\nthem all, namely how the boar gashed him with his white tusk in the\nchase, when he had gone to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.\n\nNow the old woman took the scarred limb and passed her hands down it,\nand knew it by the touch and let the foot drop suddenly, so that the\nknee fell into the bath, and the brazen vessel rang, being turned over\non the other side, and behold, the water was spilled on the ground.\nThen joy and anguish came on her in one moment, and both her eyes\nfilled up with tears, and the voice of her utterance was stayed, and\ntouching the chin of Odysseus she spake to him, saying:\n\n\u201cYea verily, thou art Odysseus, my dear child, and I knew thee not\nbefore, till I had handled all the body of my lord.\u201d\n\nTherewithal she looked towards Penelope, as minded to make a sign that\nher husband was now home. But Penelope could not meet her eyes nor take\nnote of her, for Athene had bent her thoughts to other things. But\nOdysseus feeling for the old woman\u2019s throat gript it with his right\nhand and with the other drew her closer to him and spake, saying:\n\n\u201cWoman, why wouldest thou indeed destroy me? It was thou that didst\nnurse me there at thine own breast, and now after travail and much pain\nI am come in the twentieth year to mine own country. But since thou art\nware of me, and the god has put this in thy heart, be silent, lest\nanother learn the matter in the halls. For on this wise I will declare\nit, and it shall surely be accomplished:\u2014if the gods subdue the lordly\nwooers unto me, I will not hold my hand from thee, my nurse though thou\nart, when I slay the other handmaids in my halls.\u201d\n\nThen wise Eurycleia answered, saying: \u201cMy child, what word hath escaped\nthe door of thy lips? Thou knowest how firm is my spirit and\nunyielding, and I will keep me fast as stubborn stone or iron. Yet\nanother thing will I tell thee, and do thou ponder it in thine heart.\nIf the gods subdue the lordly wooers to thy hand, then will I tell thee\nall the tale of the women in the halls, which of them dishonour thee\nand which be guiltless.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cNurse, wherefore I\npray thee wilt thou speak of these? Thou needest not, for even I myself\nwill mark them well and take knowledge of each. Nay, do thou keep thy\nsaying to thyself, and leave the rest to the gods.\u201d\n\nEven so he spake, and the old woman passed forth from the hall to bring\nwater for his feet, for that first water was all spilled. So when she\nhad washed him and anointed him well with olive-oil, Odysseus again\ndrew up his settle nearer to the fire to warm himself, and covered up\nthe scar with his rags. Then the wise Penelope spake first, saying:\n\n\u201cStranger, there is yet a little thing I will make bold to ask thee,\nfor soon will it be the hour for pleasant rest, for him on whomsoever\nsweet sleep falls, though he be heavy with care. But to me has the god\ngiven sorrow, yea sorrow measureless, for all the day I have my fill of\nwailing and lamenting, as I look to mine own housewiferies and to the\ntasks of the maidens in the house. But when night comes and sleep takes\nhold of all, I lie on my couch, and shrewd cares, thick thronging about\nmy inmost heart, disquiet me in my sorrowing. Even as when the daughter\nof Pandareus, the nightingale of the greenwood, sings sweet in the\nfirst season of the spring, from her place in the thick leafage of the\ntrees, and with many a turn and trill she pours forth her full-voiced\nmusic bewailing her child, dear Itylus, whom on a time she slew with\nthe sword unwitting, Itylus the son of Zethus the prince; even as her\nsong, my troubled soul sways to and fro. Shall I abide with my son, and\nkeep all secure, all the things of my getting, my thralls and great\nhigh-roofed home, having respect unto the bed of my lord and the voice\nof the people, or even now follow with the best of the Achaeans that\nwoos me in the halls, and gives a bride-price beyond reckoning? Now my\nson, so long as he was a child and light of heart, suffered me not to\nmarry and leave the house of my husband; but now that he is great of\ngrowth, and is come to the full measure of manhood, lo now he prays me\nto go back home from these walls, being vexed for his possessions that\nthe Achaeans devour before his eyes. But come now, hear a dream of mine\nand tell me the interpretation thereof. Twenty geese I have in the\nhouse, that eat wheat, coming forth from the water, and I am gladdened\nat the sight. Now a great eagle of crooked beak swooped from the\nmountain, and brake all their necks and slew them; and they lay strewn\nin a heap in the halls, while he was borne aloft to the bright air.\nThereon I wept and wailed, in a dream though it was, and around me were\ngathered the fair-tressed Achaean women as I made piteous lament, for\nthat the eagle had slain my geese. But he came back and sat him down on\na jutting point of the roof-beam, and with the voice of a man he spake,\nand stayed my weeping:\n\n\u201c\u2018Take heart, O daughter of renowned Icarius; this is no dream but a\ntrue vision, that shall be accomplished for thee. The geese are the\nwooers, and I that before was the eagle am now thy husband come again,\nwho will let slip unsightly death upon all the wooers.\u2019 With that word\nsweet slumber let me go, and I looked about, and beheld the geese in\nthe court pecking their wheat at the trough, where they were wont\nbefore.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered her and said: \u201cLady, none may\nturn aside the dream to interpret it otherwise, seeing that Odysseus\nhimself hath showed thee how he will fulfil it. For the wooers\ndestruction is clearly boded, for all and every one; not a man shall\navoid death and the fates.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him: \u201cStranger, verily dreams are hard, and\nhard to be discerned; nor are all things therein fulfilled for men.\nTwain are the gates of shadowy dreams, the one is fashioned of horn and\none of ivory. Such dreams as pass through the portals of sawn ivory are\ndeceitful, and bear tidings that are unfulfilled. But the dreams that\ncome forth through the gates of polished horn bring a true issue,\nwhosoever of mortals beholds them. Yet methinks my strange dream came\nnot thence; of a truth that would be most welcome to me and to my son.\nBut another thing will I tell thee, and do thou ponder it in thy heart.\nLo, even now draws nigh the morn of evil name, that is to sever me from\nthe house of Odysseus, for now I am about to ordain for a trial those\naxes that he would set up in a row in his halls, like stays of oak in\nship-building, twelve in all, and he would stand far apart and shoot\nhis arrow through them all. And now I will offer this contest to the\nwooers; whoso shall most easily string the bow in his hands, and shoot\nthrough all twelve axes, with him will I go and forsake this house,\nthis house of my wedlock, so fair and filled with all livelihood, which\nmethinks I shall yet remember, aye, in a dream.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered her and said: \u201cWife revered of\nOdysseus son of Laertes, no longer delay this contest in thy halls;\nfor, lo, Odysseus of many counsels will be here, before these men, for\nall their handling of this polished bow, shall have strung it, and shot\nthe arrow through the iron.\u201d\n\nThen the wise Penelope answered him: \u201cStranger, if only thou wert\nwilling still to sit beside me in the halls and to delight me, not upon\nmy eyelids would sleep be shed. But men may in no wise abide sleepless\never, for the immortals have made a time for all things for mortals on\nthe grain-giving earth. Howbeit I will go aloft to my upper chamber,\nand lay me on my bed, the place of my groanings, that is ever watered\nby my tears, since the day that Odysseus went to see that evil Ilios,\nnever to be named. There will I lay me down, but do thou lie in this\nhouse; either strew thee somewhat on the floor, or let them lay bedding\nfor thee.\u201d\n\nTherewith she ascended to her shining upper chamber, not alone, for\nwith her likewise went her handmaids. So she went aloft to her upper\nchamber with the women her handmaids, and there was bewailing Odysseus,\nher dear lord, till grey-eyed Athene cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.\n\n\n\nBOOK XX.\n\n\nPallas and Odysseus consult of the killing of the wooers.\n\n\nBut the goodly Odysseus laid him down to sleep in the vestibule of the\nhouse. He spread an undressed bull\u2019s hide on the ground and above it\nmany fleeces of sheep, that the Achaeans were wont to slay in\nsacrifice, and Eurynome threw a mantle over him where he lay. There\nOdysseus lay wakeful, with evil thoughts against the wooers in his\nheart. And the women came forth from their chamber, that aforetime were\nwont to lie with the wooers, making laughter and mirth among\nthemselves. Then the heart of Odysseus was stirred within his breast,\nand much he communed with his mind and soul, whether he should leap\nforth upon them and deal death to each, or suffer them to lie with the\nproud wooers, now for the last and latest time. And his heart growled\nsullenly within him. And even as a bitch stands over her tender whelps\ngrowling, when she spies a man she knows not, and she is eager to\nassail him, so growled his heart within him in his wrath at their evil\ndeeds. Then he smote upon his breast and rebuked his own heart, saying:\n\n\u201cEndure, my heart; yea, a baser thing thou once didst bear, on that day\nwhen the Cyclops, unrestrained in fury, devoured the mighty men of my\ncompany; but still thou didst endure till thy craft found a way for\nthee forth from out the cave, where thou thoughtest to die.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, chiding his own spirit within him, and his heart verily\nabode steadfast in obedience to his word. But Odysseus himself lay\ntossing this way and that. And as when a man by a great fire burning\ntakes a paunch full of fat and blood, and turns it this way and that\nand longs to have it roasted most speedily, so Odysseus tossed from\nside to side, musing how he might stretch forth his hands upon the\nshameless wooers, being but one man against so many. Then down from\nheaven came Athene and drew nigh him, fashioned in the likeness of a\nwoman. And she stood over his head and spake to him, saying:\n\n\u201cLo now again, wherefore art thou watching, most luckless of all men\nliving? Is not this thy house and is not thy wife there within and thy\nchild, such a son as men wish to have for their own?\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cYea, goddess, all\nthis thou hast spoken as is meet. But my heart within me muses in some\nmeasure upon this, how I may stretch forth my hands upon the shameless\nwooers, being but one man, while they abide ever in their companies\nwithin. Moreover this other and harder matter I ponder in my heart:\neven if I were to slay them by thy will and the will of Zeus, whither\nshould I flee from the avengers? Look well to this, I pray thee.\u201d\n\nThen answered the goddess, grey-eyed Athene: \u201cO hard of belief! yea,\nmany there be that trust even in a weaker friend than I am, in one that\nis a mortal and knows not such craft as mine; but I am a god, that\npreserve thee to the end, in all manner of toils. And now I will tell\nthee plainly; even should fifty companies of mortal men compass us\nabout eager to slay us in battle, even their kine shouldst thou drive\noff and their brave flocks. But let sleep in turn come over thee; to\nwake and to watch all night, this too is vexation of spirit; and soon\nshalt thou rise from out of thy troubles.\u201d\n\nSo she spake and poured slumber upon his eyelids, but for her part the\nfair goddess went back to Olympus.\n\nWhile sleep laid hold of him loosening the cares of his soul, sleep\nthat loosens the limbs of men, his good wife awoke and wept as she sat\non her soft bed. But when she had taken her fill of weeping, to Artemis\nfirst the fair lady made her prayer:\n\n\u201cArtemis, lady and goddess, daughter of Zeus, would that even now thou\nwouldst plant thy shaft within my breast and take my life away, even in\nthis hour! Or else, would that the stormwind might snatch me up, and\nbear me hence down the dusky ways, and cast me forth where the\nback-flowing Oceanus mingles with the sea. It should be even as when\nthe stormwinds bare away the daughters of Pandareus. Their father and\ntheir mother the gods had slain, and the maidens were left orphans in\nthe halls, and fair Aphrodite cherished them with curds and sweet honey\nand delicious wine. And Here gave them beauty and wisdom beyond the lot\nof women, and holy Artemis dowered them with stature, and Athene taught\nthem skill in all famous handiwork. Now while fair Aphrodite was\nwending to high Olympus, to pray that a glad marriage might be\naccomplished for the maidens,\u2014and to Zeus she went whose joy is in the\nthunder, for he knows all things well, what the fates give and deny to\nmortal men\u2014in the meanwhile the spirits of the storm snatched away\nthese maidens, and gave them to be handmaids to the hateful Erinyes.\nWould that in such wise they that hold the mansions of Olympus would\ntake me from the sight of men, or that fair-stressed Artemis would\nstrike me, that so with a vision of Odysseus before mine eyes I might\neven pass beneath the dreadful earth, nor ever make a baser man\u2019s\ndelight! But herein is an evil that may well be borne, namely, when a\nman weeps all the day long in great sorrow of heart, but sleep takes\nhim in the night, for sleep makes him forgetful of all things, of good\nand evil, when once it has overshadowed his eyelids. But as for me,\neven the dreams that the gods send upon me are evil. For furthermore,\nthis very night one seemed to lie by my side, in the likeness of my\nlord, as he was when he went with the host, and then was my heart glad,\nsince methought it was no vain dream but a clear vision at the last.\u201d\n\nSo she spake, and anon came the golden throned Dawn. Now goodly\nOdysseus caught the voice of her weeping, and then he fell a musing,\nand it seemed to him that even now she knew him and was standing by his\nhead. So he took up the mantle and the fleeces whereon he was lying,\nand set them on a high seat in the hall, and bare out the bull\u2019s hide\nout of doors and laid it there, and lifting up his hands he prayed to\nZeus:\n\n\u201cFather Zeus, if ye gods of your good will have led me over wet and\ndry, to mine own country, after ye had plagued me sore, let some one I\npray of the folk that are waking show me a word of good omen within,\nand without let some sign also be revealed to me from Zeus.\u201d\n\nSo he spake in prayer, and Zeus, the counsellor, heard him. Straightway\nhe thundered from shining Olympus, from on high from the place of\nclouds; and goodly Odysseus was glad. Moreover a woman, a grinder at\nthe mill, uttered a voice of omen from within the house hard by, where\nstood the mills of the shepherd of the people. At these handmills\ntwelve women in all plied their task, making meal of barley and of\nwheat, the marrow of men. Now all the others were asleep, for they had\nground out their task of grain, but one alone rested not yet, being the\nweakest of all. She now stayed her quern and spake a word, a sign to\nher lord:\n\n\u201cFather Zeus, who rulest over gods and men, loudly hast thou thundered\nfrom the starry sky, yet nowhere is there a cloud to be seen: this\nsurely is a portent thou art showing to some mortal. Fulfil now, I pray\nthee, even to miserable me, the word that I shall speak. May the\nwooers, on this day, for the last and latest time make their sweet\nfeasting in the halls of Odysseus! They that have loosened my knees\nwith cruel toil to grind their barley meal, may they now sup their\nlast!\u201d\n\nThus she spake, and goodly Odysseus was glad in the omen of the voice\nand in the thunder of Zeus; for he thought that he had gotten his\nvengeance on the guilty.\n\nNow the other maidens in the fair halls of Odysseus had gathered, and\nwere kindling on the hearth the never-resting fire. And Telemachus rose\nfrom his bed, a godlike man, and put on his raiment, and slung a sharp\nsword about his shoulders, and beneath his shining feet he bound his\ngoodly sandals. And he caught up his mighty spear shod with sharp\nbronze, and went and stood by the threshold, and spake to Eurycleia:\n\n\u201cDear nurse, have ye honoured our guest in the house with food and\ncouch, or does he lie uncared for, as he may? For this is my mother\u2019s\nway, wise as she is: blindly she honours one of mortal men, even the\nworse, but the better she sends without honour away.\u201d\n\nThen the prudent Eurycleia answered: \u201cNay, my child, thou shouldst not\nnow blame her where no blame is. For the stranger sat and drank wine,\nso long as he would, and of food he said he was no longer fain, for thy\nmother asked him. Moreover, against the hour when he should bethink him\nof rest and sleep, she bade the maidens strew for him a bed. But he, as\none utterly wretched and ill-fated, refused to lie on a couch and under\nblankets, but on an undressed hide and on the fleeces of sheep he slept\nin the vestibule, and we cast a mantle over him.\u201d\n\nSo she spake, and Telemachus passed out through the hall with his lance\nin his hand, and two fleet dogs bare him company. He went on his way to\nthe assembly-place to join the goodly-greaved Achaeans. But the good\nlady Eurycleia, daughter of Ops son of Peisenor, called aloud to her\nmaidens:\n\n\u201cCome hither, let some of you go busily and sweep the hall, and\nsprinkle it, and on the fair-fashioned seats throw purple coverlets,\nand others with sponges wipe all the tables clean, and cleanse the\nmixing bowls and well-wrought double beakers, and others again go for\nwater to the well, and return with it right speedily. For the wooers\nwill not long be out of the hall but will return very early, for it is\na feast day, yea for all the people.\u201d\n\nSo she spake, and they all gave ready ear and hearkened. Twenty of them\nwent to the well of dark water, and the others there in the halls were\nbusy with skilful hands.\n\nThen in came the serving-men of the Achaeans. Thereon they cleft the\nfaggots well and cunningly, while, behold, the women came back from the\nwell. Then the swineherd joined them leading three fatted boars, the\nbest in all the flock. These he left to feed at large in the fair\ncourts, but as for him he spake to Odysseus gently, saying:\n\n\u201cTell me, stranger, do the Achaeans at all look on thee with more\nregard, or do they dishonour thee in the halls, as heretofore?\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying:\n\n\u201cOh, that the gods, Eumaeus, may avenge the scorn wherewith these men\ndeal insolently, and devise infatuate deeds in another\u2019s house, and\nhave no place for shame!\u201d\n\nOn such wise they spake one to another. And Melanthius drew near them,\nthe goatherd, leading the goats that were most excellent in all the\nherds to be a dinner for the wooers, and two shepherds bare him\ncompany. So he tethered the goats beneath the echoing gallery, and\nhimself spake to Odysseus and taunted him, saying:\n\n\u201cStranger, wilt thou still be a plague to us here in the hall, with thy\nbegging of men, and wilt not get thee gone? In no wise do I think we\ntwain will be sundered, till we taste each the other\u2019s fists, for thy\nbegging is out of all order. Also there are elsewhere other feasts of\nthe Achaeans.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, but Odysseus of many counsels answered him not a word, but\nin silence he shook his head, brooding evil in the deep of his heart.\n\nMoreover a third man came up, Philoetius, a master of men, leading a\nbarren heifer for the wooers and fatted goats. Now ferrymen had brought\nthem over from the mainland, boatmen who send even other folks on their\nway, whosoever comes to them. The cattle he tethered carefully beneath\nthe echoing gallery, and himself drew close to the swineherd, and began\nto question him:\n\n\u201cSwineherd, who is this stranger but newly come to our house? From what\nmen does he claim his birth? Where are his kin and his native fields?\nHapless is he, yet in fashion he is like a royal lord; but the gods mar\nthe goodliness of wandering men, when even for kings they have woven\nthe web of trouble.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and came close to him offering his right hand in welcome,\nand uttering his voice spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cFather and stranger, hail! may happiness be thine in the time to come;\nbut as now, thou art fast holden in many sorrows! Father Zeus, none\nother god is more baneful than thou; thou hast no compassion on men,\nthat are of thine own begetting, but makest them to have fellowship\nwith evil and with bitter pains. The sweat brake out on me when I\nbeheld him, and mine eyes stand full of tears for memory of Odysseus,\nfor he too, methinks, is clad in such vile raiment as this, and is\nwandering among men, if haply he yet lives and sees the sunlight. But\nif he be dead already and in the house of Hades, then woe is me for the\nnoble Odysseus, who set me over his cattle while I was but a lad in the\nland of the Cephallenians. And now these wax numberless; in no better\nwise could the breed of broad-browed cattle of any mortal increase,\neven as the ears of corn. But strangers command me to be ever driving\nthese for themselves to devour, and they care nothing for the heir in\nthe house, nor tremble at the vengeance of the gods, for they are eager\neven now to divide among themselves the possessions of our lord who is\nlong afar. Now my heart within my breast often revolves this thing.\nTruly it were an evil deed, while a son of the master is yet alive, to\nget me away to the land of strangers, and go off, with cattle and all,\nto alien men. But this is more grievous still, to abide here in\naffliction watching over the herds of other men. Yea, long ago I would\nhave fled and gone forth to some other of the proud kings, for things\nare now past sufferance; but still my thought is of that hapless one,\nif he might come I know not whence, and make a scattering of the wooers\nin the halls.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying:\n\n\u201cNeatherd, seeing thou art not like to an evil man or a foolish, and of\nmyself I mark how that thou hast gotten understanding of heart,\ntherefore I will tell thee somewhat, and swear a great oath to confirm\nit. Be Zeus now my witness before any god, and the hospitable board and\nthe hearth of noble Odysseus, whereunto I am come, that while thou art\nstill in this place Odysseus shall come home, and thou shalt see with\nthine eyes, if thou wilt, the slaying of the wooers who lord it here.\u201d\n\nThen the neatherd made answer, saying:\n\n\u201cAh, would, stranger, that Cronion may accomplish this word! So\nshouldst thou know what my might is, and how my hands follow to obey.\u201d\n\nIn like manner Eumaeus prayed to all the gods, that wise Odysseus might\nreturn to his own home.\n\nOn such wise they spake one to the other, but the wooers at that time\nwere framing death and doom for Telemachus. Even so there came by them\na bird on their left, an eagle of lofty flight, with a cowering dove in\nhis clutch. Then Amphinomus made harangue and spake among them:\n\n\u201cFriends, this counsel of ours will not go well, namely, the slaying of\nTelemachus; rather let us bethink us of the feast.\u201d\n\nSo spake Amphinomus, and his saying pleased them well. They passed into\nthe halls of godlike Odysseus and laid by their mantles on the chairs\nand high seats, and sacrificed great sheep and stout goats and the\nfatlings of the boars and the heifer of the herd; then they roasted the\nentrails and served them round and mixed wine in the bowl, and the\nswineherd set a cup by each man. And Philoetius, a master of men,\nhanded them wheaten bread in beautiful baskets, and Melanthius poured\nout the wine. So they put forth their hands on the good cheer set\nbefore them.\n\nNow Telemachus, in his crafty purpose, made Odysseus to sit down within\nthe stablished hall by the threshold of stone, and placed for him a\nmean settle and a little table. He set by him his mess of the entrails,\nand poured wine into a golden cup and spake to him, saying:\n\n\u201cThere, sit thee down, drinking thy wine among the lords, and the\ntaunts and buffets of all the wooers I myself will ward off from thee,\nfor this is no house of public resort, but the very house of Odysseus,\nand for me he won it. But, ye wooers, refrain your minds from rebukes\nand your hands from buffets, that no strife and feud may arise.\u201d\n\nSo he said, and they all bit their lips and marvelled at Telemachus, in\nthat he spake boldly. Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spake among\nthem, saying:\n\n\u201cHard though the word be, let us accept it, Achaeans, even the word of\nTelemachus, though mightily he threatens us in his speech. For Zeus\nCronion hath hindered us of our purpose, else would we have silenced\nhim in our halls, shrill orator as he is.\u201d\n\nSo spake Antinous, but Telemachus took no heed of his words. Now the\nhenchmen were leading through the town the holy hecatomb of the gods,\nand lo, the long-haired Achaeans were gathered beneath the shady grove\nof Apollo, the prince of archery.\n\nNow when they had roasted the outer flesh and drawn it off the spits,\nthey divided the messes and shared the glorious feast. And beside\nOdysseus they that waited set an equal share, the same as that which\nfell to themselves, for so Telemachus commanded, the dear son of divine\nOdysseus.\n\nNow Athene would in nowise suffer the lordly wooers to abstain from\nbiting scorn, that the pain might sink yet the deeper into the heart of\nOdysseus, son of Laertes. There was among the wooers a man of a lawless\nheart, Ctesippus was his name, and in Same was his home, who trusting,\nforsooth, to his vast possessions, was wooing the wife of Odysseus the\nlord long afar. And now he spake among the proud wooers:\n\n\u201cHear me, ye lordly wooers, and I will say somewhat. The stranger\nverily has long had his due portion, as is meet, an equal share; for it\nis not fair nor just to rob the guests of Telemachus of their right,\nwhosoever they may be that come to this house. Go to then, I also will\nbestow on him a stranger\u2019s gift, that he in turn may give a present\neither to the bath-woman, or to any other of the thralls within the\nhouse of godlike Odysseus.\u201d\n\nTherewith he caught up an ox\u2019s foot from the dish, where it lay, and\nhurled it with strong hand. But Odysseus lightly avoided it with a turn\nof his head, and smiled right grimly in his heart, and the ox\u2019s foot\nsmote the well-builded wall. Then Telemachus rebuked Ctesippus, saying:\n\n\u201cVerily, Ctesippus, it has turned out happier for thy heart\u2019s pleasure\nas it is! Thou didst not smite the stranger, for he himself avoided\nthat which was cast at him, else surely would I have struck thee\nthrough the midst with the sharp spear, and in place of wedding banquet\nthy father would have had to busy him about a funeral feast in this\nplace. Wherefore let no man make show of unseemly deeds in this my\nhouse, for now I have understanding to discern both good and evil, but\nin time past I was yet a child. But as needs we must, we still endure\nto see these deeds, while sheep are slaughtered and wine drunken and\nbread devoured, for hard it is for one man to restrain many. But come,\nno longer work me harm out of an evil heart; but if ye be set on\nslaying me, even me, with the sword, even that would I rather endure,\nand far better would it be to die than to witness for ever these\nunseemly deeds\u2014strangers shamefully entreated, and men haling the\nhandmaidens in foul wise through the fair house.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and they were all hushed in silence. And late and at last\nspake among them Agelaus, son of Damastor:\n\n\u201cFriends, when a righteous word has been spoken, none surely would\nrebuke another with hard speech and be angry. Misuse ye not this\nstranger, nor any of the thralls that are in the house of godlike\nOdysseus. But to Telemachus himself I would speak a soft word and to\nhis mother, if perchance it may find favour with the mind of those\ntwain. So long as your hearts within you had hope of the wise Odysseus\nreturning to his own house, so long none could be wroth that ye waited\nand held back the wooers in the halls, for so had it been better, if\nOdysseus had returned and come back to his own home. But now the event\nis plain, that he will return no more. Go then, sit by thy mother and\ntell her all, namely, that she must wed the best man that wooes her,\nand whose gives most gifts; so shalt thou with gladness live on the\nheritage of thy father, eating and drinking, while she cares for\nanother\u2019s house.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered, and said: \u201cNay by Zeus, Agelaus, and by\nthe griefs of my father, who far away methinks from Ithaca has perished\nor goes wandering, in nowise do I delay my mother\u2019s marriage; nay, I\nbid her be married to what man she will, and withal I offer gifts\nwithout number. But I do indeed feel shame to drive her forth from the\nhall, despite her will, by a word of compulsion; God forbid that ever\nthis should be.\u201d\n\nSo spake Telemachus, but among the wooers Pallas Athene roused laughter\nunquenchable, and drave their wits wandering. And now they were\nlaughing with alien lips, and blood-bedabbled was the flesh they ate,\nand their eyes were filled with tears and their soul was fain of\nlamentation. Then the godlike Theoclymenus spake among them:\n\n\u201cAh, wretched men, what woe is this ye suffer? Shrouded in night are\nyour heads and your faces and your knees, and kindled is the voice of\nwailing, and all cheeks are wet with tears, and the walls and the fair\nmain-beams of the roof are sprinkled with blood. And the porch is full,\nand full is the court, of ghosts that hasten hellwards beneath the\ngloom, and the sun has perished out of heaven, and an evil mist has\noverspread the world.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and they all laughed sweetly at him. Then Eurymachus, son\nof Polybus, began to speak to them, saying:\n\n\u201cThe guest that is newly come from a strange land is beside himself.\nQuick, ye young men, and convey him forth out of doors, that he may go\nto the place of the gathering, since here he finds it dark as night.\u201d\n\nThen godlike Theoclymenus answered him: \u201cEurymachus, in nowise do I\nseek guides of thee to send me on my way. Eyes have I, and ears, and\nboth my feet, and a stable mind in my breast of no mean fashioning.\nWith these I will go forth, for I see evil coming on you, which not one\nman of the wooers may avoid or shun, of all you who in the house of\ndivine Odysseus deal insolently with men and devise infatuate deeds.\u201d\n\nTherewith he went forth from out the fair-lying halls, and came to\nPeiraeus who received him gladly. Then all the wooers, looking one at\nthe other, provoked Telemachus to anger, laughing at his guests. And\nthus some one of the haughty youths would speak:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, no man is more luckless than thou in his guests, seeing\nthou keepest such a filthy wanderer, whosoever he be, always longing\nfor bread and wine, and skilled in no peaceful work nor any deed of\nwar, but a mere burden of the earth. And this other fellow again must\nstand up to play the seer! Nay, but if thou wouldest listen to me, much\nbetter it were. Let us cast these strangers on board a benched ship,\nand send them to the Sicilians, whence they would fetch thee their\nprice.\u201d[35]\n\n [35] Reading \u1f04\u03bb\u03c6\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd, which is a correction. Or keeping the MSS. \u1f04\u03bb\u03c6\u03bf\u03b9,\n \u201cand this should bring thee in a goodly price,\u201d the subject to \u1f04\u03bb\u03c6\u03bf\u03b9\n being, probably, _the sale_, which is suggested by the context.\n\n\nSo spake the wooers, but he heeded not their words, in silence he\nlooked towards his father, expecting evermore the hour when he should\nstretch forth his hands upon the shameless wooers.\n\nNow the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, had set her fair chair over\nagainst them, and heard the words of each one of the men in the halls.\nFor in the midst of laughter they had got ready the midday meal, a\nsweet meal and abundant, for they had sacrificed many cattle. But never\ncould there be a banquet less gracious than that supper, such an one as\nthe goddess and the brave man were soon to spread for them; for that\nthey had begun the devices of shame.\n\n\n\nBOOK XXI.\n\n\nPenelope bringeth forth her husband\u2019s bow, which the suitors could not\nbend, but was bent by Odysseus.\n\n\nNow the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, put it into the heart of the\ndaughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, to set the bow and the axes of grey\niron, for the wooers in the halls of Odysseus, to be the weapons of the\ncontest, and the beginning of death. So she descended the tall\nstaircase of her chamber, and took the well-bent key in her strong\nhand, a goodly key of bronze, whereon was a handle of ivory. And she\nbetook her, with her handmaidens, to the treasure-chamber in the\nuttermost part of the house, where lay the treasures of her lord,\nbronze and gold and well-wrought iron. And there lay the back-bent bow\nand the quiver for the arrows, and many shafts were therein, winged for\ndeath, gifts of a friend of Odysseus, that met with him in Lacedaemon,\nIphitus son of Eurytus, a man like to the gods. These twain fell in\nwith one another in Messene, in the house of wise Ortilochus. Now\nOdysseus had gone thither to recover somewhat that was owing to him\nfrom all the people, for the men of Messene had lifted three hundred\nsheep in benched ships from out of Ithaca, with the shepherds of the\nflock. In quest of these it was that Odysseus went on a far embassy,\nbeing yet a lad; for his father and the other elders sent him forth.\nMoreover, Iphitus came thither in his search for twelve brood mares,\nwhich he had lost, with sturdy mules at the teat. These same it was\nthat brought him death and destiny in the latter end, when he came to\nthe child of Zeus, hardy of heart, the man Heracles, that had knowledge\nof great adventures, who smote Iphitus though his guest in his house,\nin his frowardness, and had no regard for the vengeance of the gods,\nnor for the table which he spread before him; for after the meal he\nslew him, his guest though he was, and kept for himself in the halls\nthe horses strong of hoof. After these was Iphitus asking, when he met\nwith Odysseus, and he gave him the bow, which of old great Eurytus bare\nand had left at his death to his son in his lofty house. And Odysseus\ngave Iphitus a sharp sword and a mighty spear, for the beginning of a\nloving friendship; but never had they acquaintance one of another at\nthe board; ere that might be, the son of Zeus slew Iphitus son of\nEurytus, a man like to the immortals, the same that gave Odysseus the\nbow. But goodly Odysseus would never take it with him on the black\nships, as he went to the wars, but the bow was laid by at home in the\nhalls as a memorial of a dear guest, and he carried it on his own land.\n\nNow when the fair lady had come even to the treasure-chamber, and had\nstept upon the threshold of oak, which the carpenter had on a time\nplaned cunningly, and over it had made straight the line,\u2014doorposts\nalso had he fitted thereby, whereon he set shining doors,\u2014anon she\nquickly loosed the strap from the handle of the door, and thrust in the\nkey, and with a straight aim shot back the bolts. And even as a bull\nroars that is grazing in a meadow, so mightily roared the fair doors\nsmitten by the key; and speedily they flew open before her. Then she\nstept on to the high floor, where the coffers stood, wherein the\nfragrant raiment was stored. Thence she stretched forth her hand, and\ntook the bow from off the pin, all in the bright case which sheathed it\naround. And there she sat down, and set the case upon her knees, and\ncried aloud and wept, and took out the bow of her lord. Now when she\nhad her fill of tearful lament, she set forth to go to the hall to the\ncompany of the proud wooers, with the back-bent bow in her hands, and\nthe quiver for the arrows, and many shafts were therein winged for\ndeath. And her maidens along with her bare a chest, wherein lay much\nstore of iron and bronze, the gear of combat of their lord. Now when\nthe fair lady had come unto the wooers, she stood by the pillar of the\nwell-builded roof, holding up her glistening tire before her face; and\na faithful maiden stood on either side of her, and straightway she\nspake out among the wooers and declared her word, saying:\n\n\u201cHear me, ye lordly wooers, who have vexed this house, that ye might\neat and drink here evermore, forasmuch as the master is long gone, nor\ncould ye find any other mark[36] for your speech, but all your desire\nwas to wed me and take me to wife. Nay come now, ye wooers, seeing that\nthis is the prize that is put before you. I will set forth for you the\ngreat bow of divine Odysseus, and whoso shall most easily string the\nbow in his hands, and shoot through all twelve axes, with him will I go\nand forsake this house, this house of my wedlock, so fair and filled\nwith all livelihood, which methinks I shall yet remember, aye, in a\ndream.\u201d\n\n [36] The accepted interpretation of \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03c3\u03af\u03b7 (a word which occurs\n only here) is \u201cpretext\u201d; but this does not agree with any of the\n meanings of the verb from which the noun is derived. The usage of\n \u1f10\u03c0\u03ad\u03c7\u03c9 in Od. xix. 71, xxii. 75, of \u1f10\u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd in Il. xvii. 465, and of\n \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c7\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 in Od. xxii. 15, suggests rather for \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03c3\u03af\u03b7 the idea of\n \u201caiming at a mark.\u201d\n\n\nSo spake she, and commanded Eumaeus, the goodly swineherd, to set the\nbow for the wooers and the axes of grey iron. And Eumaeus took them\nwith tears, and laid them down; and otherwhere the neatherd wept, when\nhe beheld the bow of his lord. Then Antinous rebuked them, and spake\nand hailed them:\n\n\u201cFoolish boors, whose thoughts look not beyond the day, ah, wretched\npair, wherefore now do ye shed tears, and stir the soul of the lady\nwithin her, when her heart already lies low in pain, for that she has\nlost her dear lord? Nay sit, and feast in silence, or else get ye forth\nand weep, and leave the bow here behind, to be a terrible contest for\nthe wooers, for methinks that this polished bow does not lightly yield\nitself to be strung. For there is no man among all these present such\nas Odysseus was, and I myself saw him, yea I remember it well, though I\nwas still but a child.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, but his heart within him hoped that he would string the\nbow, and shoot through the iron. Yet verily, he was to be the first\nthat should taste the arrow at the hands of the noble Odysseus, whom\nbut late he was dishonouring as he sat in the halls, and was inciting\nall his fellows to do likewise.\n\nThen the mighty prince Telemachus spake among them, saying: \u201cLo now, in\nvery truth, Cronion has robbed me of my wits! My dear mother, wise as\nshe is, declares that she will go with a stranger and forsake this\nhouse; yet I laugh and in my silly heart I am glad. Nay come now, ye\nwooers, seeing that this is the prize which is set before you, a lady,\nthe like of whom there is not now in the Achaean land, neither in\nsacred Pylos, nor in Argos, nor in Mycenae, nor yet in Ithaca, nor in\nthe dark mainland. Nay but ye know all this yourselves,\u2014why need I\npraise my mother? Come therefore, delay not the issue with excuses, nor\nhold much longer aloof from the drawing of the bow, that we may see the\nthing that is to be. Yea and I myself would make trial of this bow. If\nI shall string it, and shoot through the iron, then should I not sorrow\nif my lady mother were to quit these halls and go with a stranger,\nseeing that I should be left behind, well able now to lift my father\u2019s\ngoodly gear of combat.\u201d\n\nTherewith he cast from off his neck his cloak of scarlet, and sprang to\nhis full height, and put away the sword from his shoulders. First he\ndug a good trench and set up the axes, one long trench for them all,\nand over it he made straight the line and round about stamped in the\nearth. And amazement fell on all that beheld how orderly he set the\naxes, though never before had he seen it so. Then he went and stood by\nthe threshold and began to prove the bow. Thrice he made it to tremble\nin his great desire to draw it, and thrice he rested from his effort,\nthough still he hoped in his heart to string the bow, and shoot through\nthe iron. And now at last he might have strung it, mightily straining\nthereat for the fourth time, but Odysseus nodded frowning and stayed\nhim, for all his eagerness. Then the strong prince Telemachus spake\namong them again:\n\n\u201cLo you now, even to the end of my days I shall be a coward and a\nweakling, or it may be I am too young, and have as yet no trust in my\nhands to defend me from such an one as does violence without a cause.\nBut come now, ye who are mightier men than I, essay the bow and let us\nmake an end of the contest.\u201d\n\nTherewith he put the bow from him on the ground, leaning it against the\nsmooth and well-compacted doors, and the swift shaft he propped hard by\nagainst the fair bow-tip, and then he sat down once more on the high\nseat, whence he had risen.\n\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spake among them, saying: \u201cRise up in\norder, all my friends, beginning from the left, even from the place\nwhence the wine is poured.\u201d\n\nSo spake Antinous, and the saying pleased them well. Then first stood\nup Leiodes, son of Oenops, who was their soothsayer and ever sat by the\nfair mixing bowl at the extremity of the hall; he alone hated their\ninfatuate deeds and was indignant with all the wooers. He now first\ntook the bow and the swift shaft, and he went and stood by the\nthreshold, and began to prove the bow; but he could not bend it; or\never that might be, his hands grew weary with the straining, his\nunworn, delicate hands; so he spake among the wooers, saying:\n\n\u201cFriends, of a truth I cannot bend it, let some other take it. Ah, many\nof our bravest shall this bow rob of spirit and of life, since truly it\nis far better for us to die, than to live on and to fail of that for\nwhich we assemble evermore in this place, day by day expecting the\nprize. Many there be even now that hope in their hearts and desire to\nwed Penelope, the bedfellow of Odysseus: but when such an one shall\nmake trial of the bow and see the issue, thereafter let him woo some\nother fair-robed Achaean woman with his bridal gifts and seek to win\nher. So may our lady wed the man that gives most gifts, and comes as\nthe chosen of fate.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and put from him the bow leaning it against the smooth and\nwell-compacted doors, and the swift shaft he propped hard by against\nthe fair bow-tip, and then he sat down once more on the high seat,\nwhence he had risen.\n\nBut Antinous rebuked him, and spake and hailed him: \u201cLeiodes, what word\nhath escaped the door of thy lips; a hard word, and a grievous? Nay, it\nangers me to hear it, and to think that a bow such as this shall rob\nour bravest of spirit and of life, and all because thou canst not draw\nit. For I tell thee that thy lady mother bare thee not of such might as\nto draw a bow and shoot arrows: but there be others of the proud wooers\nthat shall draw it soon.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and commanded Melanthius, the goatherd, saying: \u201cUp now,\nlight a fire in the halls, Melanthius; and place a great settle by the\nfire and a fleece thereon, and bring forth a great ball of lard that is\nwithin, that we young men may warm and anoint the bow therewith and\nprove it, and make an end of the contest.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and Melanthius soon kindled the never-resting fire, and\ndrew up a settle and placed it near, and put a fleece thereon, and he\nbrought forth a great ball of lard that was within. Therewith the young\nmen warmed the bow, and made essay, but could not string it, for they\nwere greatly lacking of such might. And Antinous still held to the task\nand godlike Eurymachus, chief men among the wooers, who were far the\nmost excellent of all.\n\nBut those other twain went forth both together from the house, the\nneatherd and the swineherd of godlike Odysseus; and Odysseus passed out\nafter them. But when they were now gotten without the gates and the\ncourtyard, he uttered his voice and spake to them in gentle words:\n\n\u201cNeatherd and thou swineherd, shall I say somewhat or keep it to\nmyself? Nay, my spirit bids me declare it. What manner of men would ye\nbe to help Odysseus, if he should come thus suddenly, I know not\nwhence, and some god were to bring him? Would ye stand on the side of\nthe wooers or of Odysseus? Tell me even as your heart and spirit bid\nyou.\u201d\n\nThen the neatherd answered him, saying: \u201cFather Zeus, if but thou\nwouldst fulfil this wish:[37]\u2014oh, that that man might come, and some\ngod lead him hither! So shouldest thou know what my might is, and how\nmy hands follow to obey.\u201d\n\n [37] Placing a colon at \u1f10\u03ad\u03bb\u03b4\u03c9\u03c1.\n\n\nIn like manner Eumaeus prayed to all the gods that wise Odysseus might\nreturn to his own home.\n\nNow when he knew for a surety what spirit they were of, once more he\nanswered and spake to them, saying:\n\n\u201cBehold, home am I come, even I; after much travail and sore am I come\nin the twentieth year to mine own country. And I know how that my\ncoming is desired by you alone of all my thralls, for from none besides\nhave I heard a prayer that I might return once more to my home. And now\nI will tell you all the truth, even as it shall come to pass. If the\ngod shall subdue the proud wooers to my hands, I will bring you each\none a wife, and will give you a heritage of your own and a house\nbuilded near to me, and ye twain shall be thereafter in mine eyes as\nthe brethren and companions of Telemachus. But behold, I will likewise\nshow you a most manifest token, that ye may know me well and be\ncertified in heart, even the wound that the boar dealt me with his\nwhite tusk long ago, when I went to Parnassus with the sons of\nAutolycus.\u201d\n\nTherewith he drew aside the rags from the great scar. And when the\ntwain had beheld it and marked it well, they cast their arms about the\nwise Odysseus, and fell a weeping; and kissed him lovingly on head and\nshoulders. And in like manner Odysseus too kissed their heads and\nhands. And now would the sunlight have gone down upon their sorrowing,\nhad not Odysseus himself stayed them saying:\n\n\u201cCease ye from weeping and lamentation, lest some one come forth from\nthe hall and see us, and tell it likewise in the house. Nay, go ye\nwithin one by one and not both together, I first and you following, and\nlet this be the token between us. All the rest, as many as are proud\nwooers, will not suffer that I should be given the bow and quiver; do\nthou then, goodly Eumaeus, as thou bearest the bow through the hall,\nset it in my hands and speak to the women that they bar the\nwell-fitting doors of their chamber. And if any of them hear the sound\nof groaning or the din of men within our walls, let them not run forth\nbut abide where they are in silence at their work. But on thee, goodly\nPhiloetius, I lay this charge, to bolt and bar the outer gate of the\ncourt and swiftly to tie the knot.\u201d\n\nTherewith he passed within the fair-lying halls, and went and sat upon\nthe settle whence he had risen. And likewise the two thralls of divine\nOdysseus went within.\n\nAnd now Eurymachus was handling the bow, warming it on this side and on\nthat at the light of the fire; yet even so he could not string it, and\nin his great heart he groaned mightily; and in heaviness of spirit he\nspake and called aloud, saying:\n\n\u201cLo you now, truly am I grieved for myself and for you all! Not for the\nmarriage do I mourn so greatly, afflicted though I be; there are many\nAchaean women besides, some in sea-begirt Ithaca itself and some in\nother cities. Nay, but I grieve, if indeed we are so far worse than\ngodlike Odysseus in might, seeing that we cannot bend the bow. It will\nbe a shame even for men unborn to hear thereof.\u201d\n\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him: \u201cEurymachus, this shall\nnot be so, and thou thyself too knowest it. For to-day the feast of the\narcher god is held in the land, a holy feast. Who at such a time would\nbe bending bows? Nay, set it quietly by; what and if we should let the\naxes all stand as they are? None methinks will come to the hall of\nOdysseus, son of Laertes, and carry them away. Go to now, let the\nwine-bearer pour for libation into each cup in turn, that after the\ndrink-offering we may set down the curved bow. And in the morning bid\nMelanthius, the goatherd, to lead hither the very best goats in all his\nherds, that we may lay pieces of the thighs on the altar of Apollo the\narcher, and assay the bow and make an end of the contest.\u201d\n\nSo spake Antinous, and the saying pleased them well. Then the henchmen\npoured water on their hands, and pages crowned the mixing-bowls with\ndrink, and served out the wine to all, when they had poured for\nlibation into each cup in turn. But when they had poured forth and had\ndrunken to their hearts\u2019 desire, Odysseus of many counsels spake among\nthem out of a crafty heart, saying:\n\n\u201cHear me, ye wooers of the renowned queen, that I may say that which my\nheart within me bids. And mainly to Eurymachus I make my prayer and to\nthe godlike Antinous, forasmuch as he has spoken even this word aright,\nnamely, that for this present ye cease from your archery and leave the\nissue to the gods; and in the morning the god will give the victory to\nwhomsoever he will. Come therefore, give me the polished bow, that in\nyour presence I may prove my hands and strength, whether I have yet any\nforce such as once was in my supple limbs, or whether my wanderings and\nneedy fare have even now destroyed it.\u201d\n\nSo spake he and they all were exceeding wroth, for fear lest he should\nstring the polished bow. And Antinous rebuked him, and spake and hailed\nhim:\n\n\u201cWretched stranger, thou hast no wit, nay never so little. Art thou not\ncontent to feast at ease in our high company, and to lack not thy share\nof the banquet, but to listen to our speech and our discourse, while no\nguest and beggar beside thee hears our speech? Wine it is that wounds\nthee, honey sweet wine, that is the bane of others too, even of all who\ntake great draughts and drink out of measure. Wine it was that darkened\nthe mind even of the Centaur, renowned Eurytion, in the hall of\nhigh-hearted Peirithous, when he went to the Lapithae; and after that\nhis heart was darkened with wine, he wrought foul deeds in his frenzy,\nin the house of Peirithous. Then wrath fell on all the heroes, and they\nleaped up and dragged him forth through the porch, when they had shorn\noff his ears and nostrils with the pitiless sword, and then with\ndarkened mind he bare about with him the burden of his sin in\nfoolishness of heart. Thence was the feud begun between the Centaurs\nand mankind; but first for himself gat he hurt, being heavy with wine.\nAnd even so I declare great mischief unto thee if thou shalt string the\nbow, for thou shalt find no courtesy at the hand of anyone in our land,\nand anon we will send thee in a black ship to Echetus, the maimer of\nall men, and thence thou shalt not be saved alive. Nay then, drink at\nthine ease, and strive not still with men that are younger than thou.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him: \u201cAntinous, truly it is not fair nor\njust to rob the guests of Telemachus of their due, whosoever he may be\nthat comes to this house. Dost thou think if yonder stranger strings\nthe great bow of Odysseus, in the pride of his might and of his\nstrength of arm, that he will lead me to his home and make me his wife?\nNay he himself, methinks, has no such hope in his breast; so, as for\nthat, let not any of you fret himself while feasting in this place;\nthat were indeed unmeet.\u201d\n\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her, saying: \u201cDaughter of\nIcarius, wise Penelope, it is not that we deem that he will lead thee\nto his home,\u2014far be such a thought from us,\u2014but we dread the speech of\nmen and women, lest some day one of the baser sort among the Achaeans\nsay: \u2018Truly men far too mean are wooing the wife of one that is noble,\nnor can they string the polished bow. But a stranger and a beggar came\nin his wanderings, and lightly strung the bow, and shot through the\niron.\u2019 Thus will they speak, and this will turn to our reproach.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him: \u201cEurymachus, never can there be fair\nfame in the land for those that devour and dishonour the house of a\nprince, but why make ye this thing into a reproach? But, behold, our\nguest is great of growth and well-knit, and avows him to be born the\nson of a good father. Come then, give ye him the polished bow, that we\nmay see that which is to be. For thus will I declare my saying, and it\nshall surely come to pass. If he shall string the bow and Apollo grant\nhim renown, I will clothe him in a mantle and a doublet, goodly\nraiment, and I will give him a sharp javelin to defend him against dogs\nand men, and a two-edged sword and sandals to bind beneath his feet,\nand I will send him whithersoever his heart and spirit bid him go.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered her, saying: \u201cMy mother, as for the bow,\nno Achaean is mightier than I to give or to deny it to whomso I will,\nneither as many as are lords in rocky Ithaca nor in the isles on the\nside of Elis, the pastureland of horses. Not one of these shall force\nme in mine own despite, if I choose to give this bow, yea once and for\nall, to the stranger to bear away with him. But do thou go to thine own\nchamber and mind thine own housewiferies, the loom and distaff, and bid\nthine handmaids ply their tasks. But the bow shall be for men, for all,\nbut for me in chief, for mine is the lordship in the house.\u201d\n\nThen in amaze she went back to her chamber, for she laid up the wise\nsaying of her son in her heart. She ascended to her upper chamber with\nthe women her handmaids, and then was bewailing Odysseus, her dear\nlord, till grey-eyed Athene cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.\n\nNow the goodly swineherd had taken the curved bow, and was bearing it,\nwhen the wooers all cried out upon him in the halls. And thus some one\nof the haughty youths would speak: \u201cWhither now art thou bearing the\ncurved bow, thou wretched swineherd, crazed in thy wits? Lo, soon shall\nthe swift hounds of thine own breeding eat thee hard by thy swine,\nalone and away from men, if Apollo will be gracious to us and the other\ndeathless gods.\u201d\n\nEven so they spake, and he took and set down the bow in that very\nplace, being affrighted because many cried out on him in the halls.\nThen Telemachus from the other side spake threateningly, and called\naloud:\n\n\u201cFather, bring hither the bow, soon shalt thou rue it that thou servest\nmany masters. Take heed, lest I that am younger than thou pursue thee\nto the field, and pelt thee with stones, for in might I am the better.\nIf only I were so much mightier in strength of arm than all the wooers\nthat are in the halls, soon would I send many an one forth on a woeful\nway from out our house, for they imagine mischief against us.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and all the wooers laughed sweetly at him, and ceased now\nfrom their cruel anger toward Telemachus. Then the swineherd bare the\nbow through the hall, and went up to wise Odysseus, and set it in his\nhands. And he called forth the nurse Eurycleia from the chamber and\nspake to her:\n\n\u201cWise Eurycleia, Telemachus bids thee bar the well-fitting doors of thy\nchamber, and if any of the women hear the sound of groaning or the din\nof men within our walls, let them not go forth, but abide where they\nare in silence at their work.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and wingless her speech remained, and she barred the doors\nof the fair-lying chambers.\n\nThen Philoetius hasted forth silently from the house, and barred the\nouter gates of the fenced court. Now there lay beneath the gallery the\ncable of a curved ship, fashioned of the byblus plant, wherewith he\nmade fast the gates, and then himself passed within. Then he went and\nsat on the settle whence he had risen, and gazed upon Odysseus. He\nalready was handling the bow, turning it every way about, and proving\nit on this side and on that, lest the worms might have eaten the horns\nwhen the lord of the bow was away. And thus men spake looking each one\nto his neighbour:\n\n\u201cVerily he has a good eye, and a shrewd turn for a bow! Either,\nmethinks, he himself has such a bow lying by at home or else he is set\non making one, in such wise does he turn it hither and thither in his\nhands, this evil-witted beggar.\u201d\n\nAnd another again of the haughty youths would say: \u201cWould that the\nfellow may have profit thereof, just so surely as he shall ever prevail\nto bend this bow!\u201d\n\nSo spake the wooers, but Odysseus of many counsels had lifted the great\nbow and viewed it on every side, and even as when a man that is skilled\nin the lyre and in minstrelsy, easily stretches a cord about a new peg,\nafter tying at either end the twisted sheep-gut, even so Odysseus\nstraightway bent the great bow, all without effort, and took it in his\nright hand and proved the bow-string, which rang sweetly at the touch,\nin tone like a swallow. Then great grief came upon the wooers, and the\ncolour of their countenance was changed, and Zeus thundered loud\nshowing forth his tokens. And the steadfast goodly Odysseus was glad\nthereat, in that the son of deep-counselling Cronos had sent him a\nsign. Then he caught up a swift arrow which lay by his table, bare, but\nthe other shafts were stored within the hollow quiver, those whereof\nthe Achaeans were soon to taste. He took and laid it on the bridge of\nthe bow, and held the notch and drew the string, even from the settle\nwhereon he sat, and with straight aim shot the shaft and missed not one\nof the axes, beginning from the first axe-handle, and the\nbronze-weighted shaft passed clean through and out at the last. Then he\nspake to Telemachus, saying:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, thy guest that sits in the halls does thee no shame. In\nnowise did I miss my mark, nor was I wearied with long bending of the\nbow. Still is my might steadfast\u2014not as the wooers say scornfully to\nslight me. But now is it time that supper too be got ready for the\nAchaeans, while it is yet light, and thereafter must we make other\nsport with the dance and the lyre, for these are the crown of the\nfeast.\u201d\n\nTherewith he nodded with bent brows, and Telemachus, the dear son of\ndivine Odysseus, girt his sharp sword about him and took the spear in\nhis grasp, and stood by his high seat at his father\u2019s side, armed with\nthe gleaming bronze.\n\n\n\nBOOK XXII.\n\n\nThe killing of the wooers.\n\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels stripped him of his rags and leaped on\nto the great threshold with his bow and quiver full of arrows, and\npoured forth all the swift shafts there before his feet, and spake\namong the wooers:\n\n\u201cLo, now is this terrible trial ended at last; and now will I know of\nanother mark, which never yet man has smitten, if perchance I may hit\nit and Apollo grant me renown.\u201d\n\nWith that he pointed the bitter arrow at Antinous. Now he was about\nraising to his lips a fair twy-eared chalice of gold, and behold, he\nwas handling it to drink of the wine, and death was far from his\nthoughts. For who among men at feast would deem that one man amongst so\nmany, how hardy soever he were, would bring on him foul death and black\nfate? But Odysseus aimed and smote him with the arrow in the throat,\nand the point passed clean out through his delicate neck, and he fell\nsidelong and the cup dropped from his hand as he was smitten, and at\nonce through his nostrils there came up a thick jet of slain man\u2019s\nblood, and quickly he spurned the table from him with his foot, and\nspilt the food on the ground, and the bread and the roast flesh were\ndefiled. Then the wooers raised a clamour through the halls when they\nsaw the man fallen, and they leaped from their high seats, as men\nstirred by fear, all through the hall, peering everywhere along the\nwell-builded walls, and nowhere was there a shield or mighty spear to\nlay hold on. Then they reviled Odysseus with angry words:\n\n\u201cStranger, thou shootest at men to thy hurt. Never again shalt thou\nenter other lists, now is utter doom assured thee. Yea, for now hast\nthou slain the man that was far the best of all the noble youths in\nIthaca; wherefore vultures shall devour thee here.\u201d\n\nSo each one spake, for indeed they thought that Odysseus had not slain\nhim wilfully; but they knew not in their folly that on their own heads,\neach and all of them, the bands of death had been made fast. Then\nOdysseus of many counsels looked fiercely on them, and spake:\n\n\u201cYe dogs, ye said in your hearts that I should never more come home\nfrom the land of the Trojans, in that ye wasted my house, and lay with\nthe maidservants by force, and traitorously wooed my wife while I was\nyet alive, and ye had no fear of the gods, that hold the wide heaven,\nnor of the indignation of men hereafter. But now the bands of death\nhave been made fast upon you one and all.\u201d\n\nEven so he spake, and pale fear gat hold on the limbs of all, and each\nman looked about, where he might shun utter doom. And Eurymachus alone\nanswered him, and spake: \u201cIf thou art indeed Odysseus of Ithaca, come\nhome again, with right thou speakest thus, of all that the Achaeans\nhave wrought, many infatuate deeds in thy halls and many in the field.\nHowbeit, he now lies dead that is to blame for all, Antinous; for he\nbrought all these things upon us, not as longing very greatly for the\nmarriage nor needing it sore, but with another purpose, that Cronion\nhas not fulfilled for him, namely, that he might himself be king over\nall the land of stablished Ithaca, and he was to have lain in wait for\nthy son and killed him. But now he is slain after his deserving, and do\nthou spare thy people, even thine own; and we will hereafter go about\nthe township and yield thee amends for all that has been eaten and\ndrunken in thy halls, each for himself bringing atonement of twenty\noxen worth, and requiting thee in gold and bronze till thy heart is\nsoftened, but till then none may blame thee that thou art angry.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels looked fiercely on him, and said:\n\u201cEurymachus, not even if ye gave me all your heritage, all that ye now\nhave, and whatsoever else ye might in any wise add thereto, not even so\nwould I henceforth hold my hands from slaying, ere the wooers had paid\nfor all their transgressions. And now the choice lies before you,\nwhether to fight in fair battle or to fly, if any may avoid death and\nthe fates. But there be some, methinks, that shall not escape from\nutter doom.\u201d\n\nHe spake, and their knees were straightway loosened and their hearts\nmelted within them. And Eurymachus spake among them yet again:\n\n\u201cFriends, it is plain that this man will not hold his unconquerable\nhands, but now that he has caught up the polished bow and quiver, he\nwill shoot from the smooth threshold, till he has slain us all;\nwherefore let us take thought for the delight of battle. Draw your\nblades, and hold up the tables to ward off the arrows of swift death,\nand let us all have at him with one accord, and drive him, if it may\nbe, from the threshold and the doorway and then go through the city,\nand quickly would the cry be raised. Thereby should this man soon have\nshot his latest bolt.\u201d\n\nTherewith he drew his sharp two-edged sword of bronze, and leapt on\nOdysseus with a terrible cry, but in the same moment goodly Odysseus\nshot the arrow forth and struck him on the breast by the pap, and drave\nthe swift shaft into his liver. So he let the sword fall from his hand,\nand grovelling over the table he bowed and fell, and spilt the food and\nthe two-handled cup on the floor. And in his agony he smote the ground\nwith his brow, and spurning with both his feet he overthrew the high\nseat, and the mist of death was shed upon his eyes.\n\nThen Amphinomus made at renowned Odysseus, setting straight at him, and\ndrew his sharp sword, if perchance he might make him give ground from\nthe door. But Telemachus was beforehand with him, and cast and smote\nhim from behind with a bronze-shod spear between the shoulders, and\ndrave it out through the breast, and he fell with a crash and struck\nthe ground full with his forehead. Then Telemachus sprang away, leaving\nthe long spear fixed in Amphinomus, for he greatly dreaded lest one of\nthe Achaeans might run upon him with his blade, and stab him as he drew\nforth the spear, or smite him with a down stroke[38] of the sword. So\nhe started and ran and came quickly to his father, and stood by him,\nand spake winged words:\n\n [38] Or, reading \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03c1\u03b7\u03bd\u03ad\u03b1, smite him as he stooped over the corpse.\n\n\n\u201cFather, lo, now I will bring thee a shield and two spears and a helmet\nall of bronze, close fitting on the temples, and when I return I will\narm myself, and likewise give arms to the swineherd and to the neatherd\nyonder: for it is better to be clad in full armour.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cRun and bring them\nwhile I have arrows to defend me, lest they thrust me from the doorway,\none man against them all.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father, and went forth to\nthe chamber, where his famous weapons were lying. Thence he took out\nfour shields and eight spears, and four helmets of bronze, with thick\nplumes of horse hair, and he started to bring them and came quickly to\nhis father. Now he girded the gear of bronze about his own body first,\nand in like manner the two thralls did on the goodly armour, and stood\nbeside the wise and crafty Odysseus. Now he, so long as he had arrows\nto defend him, kept aiming and smote the wooers one by one in his\nhouse, and they fell thick one upon another. But when the arrows failed\nthe prince in his archery, he leaned his bow against the doorpost of\nthe stablished hall, against the shining faces of the entrance. As for\nhim he girt his fourfold shield about his shoulders and bound on his\nmighty head a well wrought helmet, with horse hair crest, and terribly\nthe plume waved aloft. And he grasped two mighty spears tipped with\nbronze.\n\nNow there was in the well-builded wall a certain postern raised above\nthe floor, and there by the topmost level of the threshold of the\nstablished hall, was a way into an open passage, closed by well-fitted\nfolding doors. So Odysseus bade the goodly swineherd stand near thereto\nand watch the way, for thither there was but one approach. Then Agelaus\nspake among them, and declared his word to all:\n\n\u201cFriends, will not some man climb up to the postern, and give word to\nthe people, and a cry would be raised straightway; so should this man\nsoon have shot his latest bolt?\u201d\n\nThen Melanthius, the goatherd, answered him, saying: \u201cIt may in no wise\nbe, prince Agelaus; for the fair gate of the courtyard is terribly\nnigh, and perilous is the entrance to the passage, and one man, if he\nwere valiant, might keep back a host. But come, let me bring you armour\nfrom the inner chamber, that ye may be clad in hauberks, for, methinks,\nwithin that room and not elsewhere did Odysseus and his renowned son\nlay by the arms.\u201d\n\nTherewith Melanthius, the goatherd, climbed up by the clerestory of the\nhall to the inner chambers of Odysseus, whence he took twelve shields\nand as many spears, and as many helmets of bronze with thick plumes of\nhorse hair, and he came forth and brought them speedily, and gave them\nto the wooers. Then the knees of Odysseus were loosened and his heart\nmelted within him, when he saw them girding on the armour and\nbrandishing the long spears in their hands, and great, he saw, was the\nadventure. Quickly he spake to Telemachus winged words:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, sure I am that one of the women in the halls is stirring\nup an evil battle against us, or perchance it is Melanthius.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him: \u201cMy father, it is I that have erred\nherein and none other is to blame, for I left the well-fitted door of\nthe chamber open, and there has been one of them but too quick to spy\nit. Go now, goodly Eumaeus, and close the door of the chamber, and mark\nif it be indeed one of the women that does this mischief, or\nMelanthius, son of Dolius, as methinks it is.\u201d\n\nEven so they spake one to the other. And Melanthius, the goatherd, went\nyet again to the chamber to bring the fair armour. But the goodly\nswineherd was ware thereof, and quickly he spake to Odysseus who stood\nnigh him:\n\n\u201cSon of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus, of many devices, lo,\nthere again is that baleful man, whom we ourselves suspect, going to\nthe chamber; do thou tell me truly, shall I slay him if I prove the\nbetter man, or bring him hither to thee, that he may pay for the many\ntransgressions that he has devised in thy house?\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered saying: \u201cVerily, I and\nTelemachus will keep the proud wooers within the halls, for all their\nfury, but do ye twain tie his feet and arms behind his back and cast\nhim into the chamber, and close the doors after you,[39] and make fast\nto his body a twisted rope, and drag him up the lofty pillar till he be\nnear the roof beams, that he may hang there and live for long, and\nsuffer grievous torment.\u201d\n\n [39] Or, as Mr. Merry suggests in his note, \u201ctie boards behind him\u201d as\n a method of torture. He compares Aristoph. Thesm. 931, 940.\n\n\nSo he spake, and they gave good heed and hearkened. So they went forth\nto the chamber, but the goatherd who was within knew not of their\ncoming. Now he was seeking for the armour in the secret place of the\nchamber, but they twain stood in waiting on either side the doorposts.\nAnd when Melanthius, the goatherd, was crossing the threshold with a\ngoodly helm in one hand, and in the other a wide shield and an old,\nstained with rust, the shield of the hero Laertes that he bare when he\nwas young\u2014but at that time it was laid by, and the seams of the straps\nwere loosened,\u2014then the twain rushed on him and caught him, and dragged\nhim in by the hair, and cast him on the floor in sorrowful plight, and\nbound him hand and foot in a bitter bond, tightly winding each limb\nbehind his back, even as the son of Laertes bade them, the steadfast\ngoodly Odysseus. And they made fast to his body a twisted rope, and\ndragged him up the lofty pillar till he came near the roof beams. Then\ndidst thou speak to him and gird at him, swineherd Eumaeus:\n\n\u201cNow in good truth, Melanthius, shalt thou watch all night, lying in a\nsoft bed as beseems thee, nor shall the early-born Dawn escape thy ken,\nwhen she comes forth from the streams of Oceanus, on her golden throne,\nin the hour when thou art wont to drive the goats to make a meal for\nthe wooers in the halls.\u201d\n\nSo he was left there, stretched tight in the deadly bond. But they\ntwain got into their harness, and closed the shining door, and went to\nOdysseus, wise and crafty chief. There they stood breathing fury, four\nmen by the threshold, while those others within the halls were many and\ngood warriors. Then Athene, daughter of Zeus, drew nigh them, like\nMentor in fashion and in voice, and Odysseus was glad when he saw her\nand spake, saying:\n\n\u201cMentor, ward from us hurt, and remember me thy dear companion, that\nbefriended thee often, and thou art of like age with me.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, deeming the while that it was Athene, summoner of the\nhost. But the wooers on the other side shouted in the halls, and first\nAgelaus son of Damastor rebuked Athene, saying:\n\n\u201cMentor, let not the speech of Odysseus beguile thee to fight against\nthe wooers, and to succour him. For methinks that on this wise we shall\nwork our will. When we shall have slain these men, father and son,\nthereafter shalt thou perish with them, such deeds thou art set on\ndoing in these halls; nay, with thine own head shalt thou pay the\nprice. But when with the sword we shall have overcome your violence, we\nwill mingle all thy possessions, all that thou hast at home or in the\nfield, with the wealth of Odysseus, and we will not suffer thy sons nor\nthy daughters to dwell in the halls, nor thy good wife to gad about in\nthe town of Ithaca.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Athene was mightily angered at heart, and chid\nOdysseus in wrathful words: \u201cOdysseus, thou hast no more steadfast\nmight nor any prowess, as when for nine whole years continually thou\ndidst battle with the Trojans for high born Helen, of the white arms,\nand many men thou slewest in terrible warfare, and by thy device the\nwide-wayed city of Priam was taken. How then, now that thou art come to\nthy house and thine own possessions, dost thou bewail thee and art of\nfeeble courage to stand before the wooers? Nay, come hither, friend,\nand stand by me, and I will show thee a thing, that thou mayest know\nwhat manner of man is Mentor, son of Alcimus, to repay good deeds in\nthe ranks of foemen.\u201d\n\nShe spake, and gave him not yet clear victory in full, but still for a\nwhile made trial of the might and prowess of Odysseus and his renowned\nson. As for her she flew up to the roof timber of the murky hall, in\nsuch fashion as a swallow flies, and there sat down.\n\nNow Agelaus, son of Damastor, urged on the wooers, and likewise\nEurynomus and Amphimedon and Demoptolemus and Peisandrus son of\nPolyctor, and wise Polybus, for these were in valiancy far the best men\nof the wooers, that still lived and fought for their lives; for the\nrest had fallen already beneath the bow and the thick rain of arrows.\nThen Agelaus spake among them, and made known his word to all:\n\n\u201cFriends, now at last will this man hold his unconquerable hands. Lo,\nnow has Mentor left him and spoken but vain boasts, and these remain\nalone at the entrance of the doors. Wherefore now, throw not your long\nspears all together, but come, do ye six cast first, if perchance Zeus\nmay grant us to smite Odysseus and win renown. Of the rest will we take\nno heed, so soon as that man shall have fallen.\u201d\n\nSo he spake and they all cast their javelins, as he bade them, eagerly;\nbut behold, Athene so wrought that they were all in vain. One man smote\nthe doorpost of the stablished hall, and another the well-fastened\ndoor, and the ashen spear of yet another wooer, heavy with bronze,\nstuck fast in the wall. So when they had avoided all the spears of the\nwooers, the steadfast goodly Odysseus began first to speak among them:\n\n\u201cFriends, now my word is that we too cast and hurl into the press of\nthe wooers, that are mad to slay and strip us beyond the measure of\ntheir former iniquities.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and they all took good aim and threw their sharp spears,\nand Odysseus smote Demoptolemus, and Telemachus Euryades, and the\nswineherd slew Elatus, and the neatherd Peisandrus. Thus they all bit\nthe wide floor with their teeth, and the wooers fell back into the\ninmost part of the hall. But the others dashed upon them and drew forth\nthe shafts from the bodies of the dead.\n\nThen once more the wooers threw their sharp spears eagerly; but behold,\nAthene so wrought that many of them were in vain. One man smote the\ndoor-post of the stablished hall, and another the well-fastened door,\nand the ashen spear of another wooer, heavy with bronze, struck in the\nwall. Yet Amphimedon hit Telemachus on the hand by the wrist lightly,\nand the shaft of bronze wounded the surface of the skin. And Ctesippus\ngrazed the shoulder of Eumaeus with a long spear high above the shield,\nand the spear flew over and fell to the ground. Then again Odysseus,\nthe wise and crafty, he and his men cast their swift spears into the\npress of the wooers, and now once more Odysseus, waster of cities,\nsmote Eurydamas, and Telemachus Amphimedon, and the swineherd slew\nPolybus, and last, the neatherd struck Ctesippus in the breast and\nboasted over him, saying:\n\n\u201cO son of Polytherses, thou lover of jeering, never give place at all\nto folly to speak so big, but leave thy case to the gods, since in\ntruth they are far mightier than thou. This gift is thy recompense for\nthe ox-foot that thou gavest of late to the divine Odysseus, when he\nwent begging through the house.\u201d\n\nSo spake the keeper of the shambling kine. Next Odysseus wounded the\nson of Damastor in close fight with his long spear, and Telemachus\nwounded Leocritus son of Euenor, right in the flank with his lance, and\ndrave the bronze point clean through, that he fell prone and struck the\nground full with his forehead. Then Athene held up her destroying aegis\non high from the roof, and their minds were scared, and they fled\nthrough the hall, like a drove of kine that the flitting gadfly falls\nupon and scatters hither and thither in spring time, when the long days\nbegin. But the others set on like vultures of crooked claws and curved\nbeak, that come forth from the mountains and dash upon smaller birds,\nand these scour low in the plain, stooping in terror from the clouds,\nwhile the vultures pounce on them and slay them, and there is no help\nnor way of flight, and men are glad at the sport; even so did the\ncompany of Odysseus set upon the wooers and smite them right and left\nthrough the hall; and there rose a hideous moaning as their heads were\nsmitten, and the floor all ran with blood.\n\nNow Leiodes took hold of the knees of Odysseus eagerly, and besought\nhim and spake winged words: \u201cI entreat thee by thy knees, Odysseus, and\ndo thou show mercy on me and have pity. For never yet, I say, have I\nwronged a maiden in thy halls by froward word or deed, nay I bade the\nother wooers refrain, whoso of them wrought thus. But they hearkened\nnot unto me to keep their hands from evil. Wherefore they have met a\nshameful death through their own infatuate deeds. Yet I, the soothsayer\namong them, that have wrought no evil, shall fall even as they, for no\ngrace abides for good deeds done.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels looked askance at him, and said: \u201cIf\nindeed thou dost avow thee to be the soothsayer of these men, thou art\nlike to have often prayed in the halls that the issue of a glad return\nmight be far from me, and that my dear wife should follow thee and bear\nthee children; wherefore thou shalt not escape the bitterness of\ndeath.\u201d\n\nTherewith he caught up a sword in his strong hand, that lay where\nAgelaus had let it fall to the ground when he was slain, and drave it\nclean through his neck, and as he yet spake his head fell even to the\ndust.\n\nBut the son of Terpes, the minstrel, still sought how he might shun\nblack fate, Phemius, who sang among the wooers of necessity. He stood\nwith the loud lyre in his hand hard by the postern gate, and his heart\nwas divided within him, whether he should slip forth from the hall and\nsit down by the well-wrought altar of great Zeus of the household\ncourt, whereon Laertes and Odysseus had burnt many pieces of the thighs\nof oxen, or should spring forward and beseech Odysseus by his knees.\nAnd as he thought thereupon this seemed to him the better way, to\nembrace the knees of Odysseus, son of Laertes. So he laid the hollow\nlyre on the ground between the mixing-bowl and the high seat inlaid\nwith silver, and himself sprang forward and seized Odysseus by the\nknees, and besought him and spake winged words:\n\n\u201cI entreat thee by thy knees, Odysseus, and do thou show mercy on me\nand have pity. It will be a sorrow to thyself in the aftertime if thou\nslayest me who am a minstrel, and sing before gods and men. Yea none\nhas taught me but myself, and the god has put into my heart all manner\nof lays, and methinks I sing to thee as to a god, wherefore be not\neager to cut off my head. And Telemachus will testify of this, thine\nown dear son, that not by mine own will or desire did I resort to thy\nhouse to sing to the wooers at their feasts; but being so many and\nstronger than I they led me by constraint.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and the mighty prince Telemachus heard him and quickly\nspake to his father at his side: \u201cHold thy hand, and wound not this\nblameless man with the sword; and let us save also the henchman Medon,\nthat ever had charge of me in our house when I was a child, unless\nperchance Philoetius or the swineherd have already slain him, or he\nhath met thee in thy raging through the house.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and Medon, wise of heart, heard him. For he lay crouching\nbeneath a high seat, clad about in the new-flayed hide of an ox and\nshunned black fate. So he rose up quickly from under the seat, and cast\noff the ox-hide, and sprang forth and caught Telemachus by the knees,\nand besought him and spake winged words:\n\n\u201cFriend, here am I; prithee stay thy hand and speak to thy father, lest\nhe harm me with the sharp sword in the greatness of his strength, out\nof his anger for the wooers that wasted his possessions in the halls,\nand in their folly held thee in no honour.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels smiled on him and said: \u201cTake courage,\nfor lo, he has saved thee and delivered thee, that thou mayst know in\nthy heart, and tell it even to another, how far more excellent are good\ndeeds than evil. But go forth from the halls and sit down in the court\napart from the slaughter, thou and the full-voiced minstrel, till I\nhave accomplished all that I must needs do in the house.\u201d\n\nTherewith the two went forth and gat them from the hall. So they sat\ndown by the altar of great Zeus, peering about on every side, still\nexpecting death. And Odysseus peered all through the house, to see if\nany man was yet alive and hiding away to shun black fate. But he found\nall the sort of them fallen in their blood in the dust, like fishes\nthat the fishermen have drawn forth in the meshes of the net into a\nhollow of the beach from out the grey sea, and all the fish, sore\nlonging for the salt sea waves, are heaped upon the sand, and the sun\nshines forth and takes their life away; so now the wooers lay heaped\nupon each other. Then Odysseus of many counsels spake to Telemachus:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, go, call me the nurse Eurycleia, that I may tell her a\nword that is on my mind.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father, and smote at the\ndoor, and spake to the nurse Eurycleia: \u201cUp now, aged wife, that\noverlookest all the women servants in our halls, come hither, my father\ncalls thee and has somewhat to say to thee.\u201d\n\nEven so he spake, and wingless her speech remained, and she opened the\ndoors of the fair-lying halls, and came forth, and Telemachus led the\nway before her. So she found Odysseus among the bodies of the dead,\nstained with blood and soil of battle, like a lion that has eaten of an\nox of the homestead and goes on his way, and all his breast and his\ncheeks on either side are flecked with blood, and he is terrible to\nbehold; even so was Odysseus stained, both hands and feet. Now the\nnurse, when she saw the bodies of the dead and the great gore of blood,\nmade ready to cry aloud for joy, beholding so great an adventure. But\nOdysseus checked and held her in her eagerness, and uttering his voice\nspake to her winged words:\n\n\u201cWithin thine own heart rejoice, old nurse, and be still, and cry not\naloud; for it is an unholy thing to boast over slain men. Now these\nhath the destiny of the gods overcome, and their own cruel deeds, for\nthey honoured none of earthly men, neither the bad nor yet the good,\nthat came among them. Wherefore they have met a shameful death through\ntheir own infatuate deeds. But come, tell me the tale of the women in\nmy halls, which of them dishonour me, and which be guiltless.\u201d\n\nThen the good nurse Eurycleia answered him: \u201cYea now, my child, I will\ntell thee all the truth. Thou hast fifty women-servants in thy halls,\nthat we have taught the ways of housewifery, how to card wool and to\nbear bondage. Of these twelve in all have gone the way of shame, and\nhonour not me, nor their lady Penelope. And Telemachus hath but newly\ncome to his strength, and his mother suffered him not to take command\nover the women in this house. But now, let me go aloft to the shining\nupper chamber, and tell all to thy wife, on whom some god hath sent a\nsleep.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cWake her not yet,\nbut bid the women come hither, who in time past behaved themselves\nunseemly.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and the old wife passed through the hall, to tell the\nwomen and to hasten their coming. Then Odysseus called to him\nTelemachus, and the neatherd, and the swineherd, and spake to them\nwinged words:\n\n\u201cBegin ye now to carry out the dead, and bid the women help you, and\nthereafter cleanse the fair high seats and the tables with water and\nporous sponges. And when ye have set all the house in order, lead the\nmaidens without the stablished hall, between the vaulted room and the\ngoodly fence of the court, and there slay them with your long blades,\ntill they shall have all given up the ghost and forgotten the love that\nof old they had at the bidding of the wooers, in secret dalliance.\u201d\n\nEven so he spake, and the women came all in a crowd together, making a\nterrible lament and shedding big tears. So first they carried forth the\nbodies of the slain, and set them beneath the gallery of the fenced\ncourt, and propped them one on another; and Odysseus himself hasted the\nwomen and directed them, and they carried forth the dead perforce.\nThereafter they cleansed the fair high seats and the tables with water\nand porous sponges. And Telemachus, and the neatherd, and the\nswineherd, scraped with spades the floor of the well-builded house,\nand, behold, the maidens carried all forth and laid it without the\ndoors.\n\nNow when they had made an end of setting the hall in order, they led\nthe maidens forth from the stablished hall, and drove them up in a\nnarrow space between the vaulted room and the goodly fence of the\ncourt, whence none might avoid; and wise Telemachus began to speak to\nhis fellows, saying: \u201cGod forbid that I should take these women\u2019s lives\nby a clean death, these that have poured dishonour on my head and on my\nmother, and have lain with the wooers.\u201d\n\nWith that word he tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship to a great\npillar and flung it round the vaulted room, and fastened it aloft, that\nnone might touch the ground with her feet. And even as when thrushes,\nlong of wing, or doves fall into a net that is set in a thicket, as\nthey seek to their roosting-place, and a loathly bed harbours them,\neven so the women held their heads all in a row, and about all their\nnecks nooses were cast, that they might die by the most pitiful death.\nAnd they writhed with their feet for a little space, but for no long\nwhile.\n\nThen they led out Melanthius through the doorway and the court, and cut\noff his nostrils and his ears with the pitiless sword, and drew forth\nhis vitals for the dogs to devour raw, and cut off his hands and feet\nin their cruel anger.\n\nThereafter they washed their hands and feet, and went into the house to\nOdysseus, and all the adventure was over. So Odysseus called to the\ngood nurse Eurycleia: \u201cBring sulphur, old nurse, that cleanses all\npollution and bring me fire, that I may purify the house with sulphur,\nand do thou bid Penelope come here with her handmaidens, and tell all\nthe women to hasten into the hall.\u201d\n\nThen the good nurse Eurycleia made answer: \u201cYea, my child, herein thou\nhast spoken aright. But go to, let me bring thee a mantle and a doublet\nfor raiment, and stand not thus in the halls with thy broad shoulders\nwrapped in rags; it were blame in thee so to do.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cFirst let a fire\nnow be made me in the hall.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and the good nurse Eurycleia was not slow to obey, but\nbrought fire and brimstone; and Odysseus thoroughly purged the women\u2019s\nchamber and the great hall and the court.\n\nThen the old wife went through the fair halls of Odysseus to tell the\nwomen, and to hasten their coming. So they came forth from their\nchamber with torches in their hands, and fell about Odysseus, and\nembraced him and kissed and clasped his head and shoulders and his\nhands lovingly, and a sweet longing came on him to weep and moan, for\nhe remembered them every one.\n\n\n\nBOOK XXIII.\n\n\nOdysseus maketh himself known to Penelope, tells his adventures\nbriefly, and in the morning goes to Laertes and makes himself known to\nhim.\n\n\nThen the ancient woman went up into the upper chamber laughing aloud,\nto tell her mistress how her dear lord was within, and her knees moved\nfast for joy, and her feet stumbled one over the other; and she stood\nabove the lady\u2019s head and spake to her, saying:\n\n\u201cAwake, Penelope, dear child, that thou mayest see with thine own eyes\nthat which thou desirest day by day. Odysseus hath come, and hath got\nhim to his own house, though late hath he come, and hath slain the\nproud wooers that troubled his house, and devoured his substance, and\noppressed his child.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered her: \u201cDear nurse, the gods have made thee\ndistraught, the gods that can make foolish even the wisdom of the wise,\nand that stablish the simple in understanding. They it is that have\nmarred thy reason, though heretofore thou hadst a prudent heart. Why\ndost thou mock me, who have a spirit full of sorrow, to speak these\nwild words, and rousest me out of sweet slumber, that had bound me and\novershadowed mine eyelids? Never yet have I slept so sound since the\nday that Odysseus went forth to see that evil Ilios, never to be named.\nGo to now, get thee down and back to the women\u2019s chamber, for if any\nother of the maids of my house had come and brought me such tidings,\nand wakened me from sleep, straightway would I have sent her back\nwoefully to return within the women\u2019s chamber; but this time thine old\nage shall stand thee in good stead.\u201d\n\nThen the good nurse Eurycleia answered her: \u201cI mock thee not, dear\nchild, but in very deed Odysseus is here, and hath come home, even as I\ntell thee. He is that guest on whom all men wrought such dishonour in\nthe halls. But long ago Telemachus was ware of him, that he was within\nthe house, yet in his prudence he hid the counsels of his father, that\nhe might take vengeance on the violence of the haughty wooers.\u201d\n\nThus she spake, and then was Penelope glad, and leaping from her bed\nshe fell on the old woman\u2019s neck, and let fall the tears from her\neyelids, and uttering her voice spake to her winged words: \u201cCome, dear\nnurse, I pray thee, tell me all truly\u2014if indeed he hath come home as\nthou sayest\u2014how he hath laid his hands on the shameless wooers, he\nbeing but one man, while they abode ever in their companies within the\nhouse.\u201d\n\nThen the good nurse Eurycleia answered her: \u201cI saw not, I wist not,\nonly I heard the groaning of men slain. And we in an inmost place of\nthe well-builded chambers sat all amazed, and the close-fitted doors\nshut in the room, till thy son called me from the chamber, for his\nfather sent him out to that end. Then I found Odysseus standing among\nthe slain, who around him, stretched on the hard floor, lay one upon\nthe other; it would have comforted thy heart to see him, all stained\nlike a lion with blood and soil of battle. And now are all the wooers\ngathered in an heap by the gates of the court, while he is purifying\nhis fair house with brimstone, and hath kindled a great fire, and hath\nsent me forth to call thee. So come with me, that ye may both enter\ninto your heart\u2019s delight,[40] for ye have suffered much affliction.\nAnd even now hath this thy long desire been fulfilled; thy lord hath\ncome alive to his own hearth, and hath found both thee and his son in\nthe halls; and the wooers that wrought him evil he hath slain, every\nman of them in his house.\u201d\n\n [40] Reading \u03c3\u03c6\u1ff6\u03b9 . . . . \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9.\n\n\nThen wise Penelope answered her: \u201cDear nurse, boast not yet over them\nwith laughter. Thou knowest how welcome the sight of him would be in\nthe halls to all, and to me in chief, and to his son that we got\nbetween us. But this is no true tale, as thou declarest it, nay but it\nis one of the deathless gods that hath slain the proud wooers, in wrath\nat their bitter insolence and evil deeds. For they honoured none of\nearthly men, neither the good nor yet the bad, that came among them.\nWherefore they have suffered an evil doom through their own infatuate\ndeeds. But Odysseus, far away hath lost his homeward path to the\nAchaean land, and himself is lost.\u201d\n\nThen the good nurse Eurycleia made answer to her: \u201cMy child, what word\nhath escaped the door of thy lips, in that thou saidest that thy lord,\nwho is even now within, and by his own hearthstone, would return no\nmore? Nay, thy heart is ever hard of belief. Go to now, and I will tell\nthee besides a most manifest token, even the scar of the wound that the\nboar on a time dealt him with his white tusk. This I spied while\nwashing his feet, and fain I would have told it even to thee, but he\nlaid his hand on my mouth, and in the fulness of his wisdom suffered me\nnot to speak. But come with me and I will stake my life on it; and if I\nplay thee false, do thou slay me by a death most pitiful.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope made answer to her: \u201cDear nurse, it is hard for\nthee, how wise soever, to observe the purposes of the everlasting gods.\nNone the less let us go to my child, that I may see the wooers dead,\nand him that slew them.\u201d\n\nWith that word she went down from the upper chamber, and much her heart\ndebated, whether she should stand apart, and question her dear lord or\ndraw nigh, and clasp and kiss his head and hands. But when she had come\nwithin and had crossed the threshold of stone, she sat down over\nagainst Odysseus, in the light of the fire, by the further wall. Now he\nwas sitting by the tall pillar, looking down and waiting to know if\nperchance his noble wife would speak to him, when her eyes beheld him.\nBut she sat long in silence, and amazement came upon her soul, and now\nshe would look upon him steadfastly with her eyes, and now again she\nknew him not, for that he was clad in vile raiment. And Telemachus\nrebuked her, and spake and hailed her:\n\n\u201cMother mine, ill mother, of an ungentle heart, why turnest thou thus\naway from my father, and dost not sit by him and question him and ask\nhim all? No other woman in the world would harden her heart to stand\nthus aloof from her lord, who after much travail and sore had come to\nher in the twentieth year to his own country. But thy heart is ever\nharder than stone.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him, saying: \u201cChild, my mind is amazed\nwithin me, and I have no strength to speak, nor to ask him aught, nay\nnor to look on him face to face. But if in truth this be Odysseus, and\nhe hath indeed come home, verily we shall be ware of each other the\nmore surely, for we have tokens that we twain know, even we, secret\nfrom all others.\u201d\n\nSo she spake, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus smiled, and quickly he\nspake to Telemachus winged words: \u201cTelemachus, leave now thy mother to\nmake trial of me within the chambers; so shall she soon come to a\nbetter knowledge than heretofore. But now I go filthy, and am clad in\nvile raiment, wherefore she has me in dishonour, and as yet will not\nallow that I am he. Let us then advise us how all may be for the very\nbest. For whoso has slain but one man in a land, even that one leaves\nnot many behind him to take up the feud for him, turns outlaw and\nleaves his kindred and his own country; but we have slain the very stay\nof the city, the men who were far the best of all the noble youths in\nIthaca. So this I bid thee consider.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cFather, see thou to this,\nfor they say that thy counsel is far the best among men, nor might any\nother of mortal men contend with thee. But right eagerly will we go\nwith thee now, and I think we shall not lack prowess, so far as might\nis ours.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cYea now, I will\ntell on what wise methinks it is best. First, go ye to the bath and\narray you in your doublets, and bid the maidens in the chambers to take\nto them their garments. Then let the divine minstrel, with his loud\nlyre in hand, lead off for us the measure of the mirthful dance. So\nshall any man that hears the sound from without, whether a wayfarer or\none of those that dwell around, say that it is a wedding feast. And\nthus the slaughter of the wooers shall not be noised abroad through the\ntown before we go forth to our well-wooded farm-land. Thereafter shall\nwe consider what gainful counsel the Olympian may vouchsafe us.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and they gave good ear and hearkened to him. So first they\nwent to the bath, and arrayed them in doublets, and the women were\napparelled, and the divine minstrel took the hollow harp, and aroused\nin them the desire of sweet song and of the happy dance. Then the great\nhall rang round them with the sound of the feet of dancing men and of\nfair-girdled women. And whoso heard it from without would say:\n\n\u201cSurely some one has wedded the queen of many wooers. Hard of heart was\nshe, nor had she courage to keep the great house of her wedded lord\ncontinually till his coming.\u201d\n\nEven so men spake, and knew not how these things were ordained.\nMeanwhile, the house-dame Eurynome had bathed the great-hearted\nOdysseus within his house, and anointed him with olive-oil, and cast\nabout him a goodly mantle and a doublet. Moreover Athene shed great\nbeauty from his head downwards, and made him greater and more mighty to\nbehold, and from his head caused deep curling locks to flow, like the\nhyacinth flower. And as when some skilful man overlays gold upon\nsilver, one that Hephaestus and Pallas Athene have taught all manner of\ncraft, and full of grace is his handiwork, even so did Athene shed\ngrace about his head and shoulders, and forth from the bath he came, in\nform like to the immortals. Then he sat down again on the high seat,\nwhence he had arisen, over against his wife, and spake to her, saying:\n\n\u201cStrange lady, surely to thee above all womankind the Olympians have\ngiven a heart that cannot be softened. No other woman in the world\nwould harden her heart to stand thus aloof from her husband, who after\nmuch travail and sore had come to her, in the twentieth year, to his\nown country. Nay come, nurse, strew a bed for me to lie all alone, for\nassuredly her spirit within her is as iron.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him again: \u201cStrange man, I have no proud\nthoughts nor do I think scorn of thee, nor am I too greatly astonied,\nbut I know right well what manner of man thou wert, when thou wentest\nforth out of Ithaca, on the long-oared galley. But come, Eurycleia,\nspread for him the good bedstead outside the stablished bridal chamber\nthat he built himself. Thither bring ye forth the good bedstead and\ncast bedding thereon, even fleeces and rugs and shining blankets.\u201d\n\nSo she spake and made trial of her lord, but Odysseus in sore\ndispleasure spake to his true wife, saying: \u201cVerily a bitter word is\nthis, lady, that thou hast spoken. Who has set my bed otherwhere? Hard\nit would be for one, how skilled so ever, unless a god were to come\nthat might easily set it in another place, if so he would. But of men\nthere is none living, howsoever strong in his youth, that could lightly\nupheave it, for a great token is wrought in the fashioning of the bed,\nand it was I that made it and none other. There was growing a bush of\nolive, long of leaf, and most goodly of growth, within the inner court,\nand the stem as large as a pillar. Round about this I built the\nchamber, till I had finished it, with stones close set, and I roofed it\nover well and added thereto compacted doors fitting well. Next I\nsheared off all the light wood of the long-leaved olive, and\nrough-hewed the trunk upwards from the root, and smoothed it around\nwith the adze, well and skilfully, and made straight the line thereto\nand so fashioned it into the bedpost, and I bored it all with the\nauger. Beginning from this bedpost, I wrought at the bedstead till I\nhad finished it, and made it fair with inlaid work of gold and of\nsilver and of ivory. Then I made fast therein a bright purple band of\noxhide. Even so I declare to thee this token, and I know not, lady, if\nthe bedstead be yet fast in his place, or if some man has cut away the\nstem of the olive tree, and set the bedstead otherwhere.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and at once her knees were loosened, and her heart melted\nwithin her, as she knew the sure tokens that Odysseus showed her. Then\nshe fell a weeping, and ran straight toward him and cast her hands\nabout his neck, and kissed his head and spake, saying:\n\n\u201cBe not angry with me, Odysseus, for thou wert ever at other times the\nwisest of men. It is the gods that gave us sorrow, the gods who\nbegrudged us that we should abide together and have joy of our youth,\nand come to the threshold of old age. So now be not wroth with me\nhereat nor full of indignation, because at the first, when I saw thee,\nI did not welcome thee straightway. For always my heart within my\nbreast shuddered, for fear lest some man should come and deceive me\nwith his words, for many they be that devise gainful schemes and evil.\nNay even Argive Helen, daughter of Zeus, would not have lain with a\nstranger, and taken him for a lover, had she known that the warlike\nsons of the Achaeans would bring her home again to her own dear\ncountry. Howsoever, it was the god that set her upon this shameful\ndeed; nor ever, ere that, did she lay up in her heart the thought of\nthis folly, a bitter folly, whence on us too first came sorrow. But now\nthat thou hast told all the sure tokens of our bed, which never was\nseen by mortal man, save by thee and me and one maiden only, the\ndaughter of Actor, that my father gave me ere yet I had come hither,\nshe who kept the doors of our strong bridal chamber, even now dost thou\nbend my soul, all ungentle as it is.\u201d\n\nThus she spake, and in his heart she stirred yet a greater longing to\nlament, and he wept as he embraced his beloved wife and true. And even\nas when the sight of land is welcome to swimmers, whose well-wrought\nship Poseidon hath smitten on the deep, all driven with the wind and\nswelling waves, and but a remnant hath escaped the grey sea-water and\nswum to the shore, and their bodies are all crusted with the brine, and\ngladly have they set foot on land and escaped an evil end; so welcome\nto her was the sight of her lord, and her white arms she would never\nquite let go from his neck. And now would the rosy-fingered Dawn have\nrisen upon their weeping, but the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, had other\nthoughts. The night she held long in the utmost West, and on the other\nside she stayed the golden-throned Dawn by the stream Oceanus, and\nsuffered her not to harness the swift-footed steeds that bear light to\nmen, Lampus and Phaethon, the steeds ever young, that bring the\nmorning.\n\nThen at the last, Odysseus of many counsels spake to his wife, saying:\n\u201cLady, we have not yet come to the issue of all our labours; but still\nthere will be toil unmeasured, long and difficult, that I must needs\nbring to a full end. Even so the spirit of Teiresias foretold to me, on\nthat day when I went down into the house of Hades, to inquire after a\nreturning for myself and my company. Wherefore come, lady, let us to\nbed, that forthwith we may take our joy of rest beneath the spell of\nsweet sleep.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him: \u201cThy bed verily shall be ready\nwhensoever thy soul desires it, forasmuch as the gods have indeed\ncaused thee to come back to thy stablished home and thine own country.\nBut now that thou hast noted it and the god has put it into thy heart,\ncome, tell me of this ordeal, for methinks the day will come when I\nmust learn it, and timely knowledge is no hurt.\u201d\n\nAnd Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: \u201cAh, why now art\nthou so instant with me to declare it? Yet I will tell thee all and\nhide nought. Howbeit thy heart shall have no joy of it, as even I\nmyself have no pleasure therein. For Teiresias bade me fare to many\ncities of men, carrying a shapen oar in my hands, till I should come to\nsuch men as know not the sea, neither eat meat savoured with salt, nor\nhave they knowledge of ships of purple cheek nor of shapen oars, which\nserve for wings to ships. And he told me this with manifest token,\nwhich I will not hide from thee. In the day when another wayfarer\nshould meet me and say that I had a winnowing fan on my stout shoulder,\neven then he bade me make fast my shapen oar in the earth, and do\ngoodly sacrifice to the lord Poseidon, even with a ram and a bull and a\nboar, the mate of swine, and depart for home, and offer holy hecatombs\nto the deathless gods, that keep the wide heaven, to each in order due.\nAnd from the sea shall mine own death come, the gentlest death that may\nbe, which shall end me, foredone, with smooth old age, and the folk\nshall dwell happily around. All this, he said, was to be fulfilled.\u201d\n\nThen wise Penelope answered him saying: \u201cIf indeed the gods will bring\nabout for thee a happier old age at the last, then is there hope that\nthou mayest yet have an escape from evil.\u201d\n\nThus they spake one to the other. Meanwhile, Eurynome and the nurse\nspread the bed with soft coverlets, by the light of the torches\nburning. But when they had busied them and spread the good bed, the\nancient nurse went back to her chamber to lie down, and Eurynome, the\nbower-maiden, guided them on their way to the couch, with torches in\nher hands, and when she had led them to the bridal-chamber she\ndeparted. And so they came gladly to the rites of their bed, as of old.\nBut Telemachus, and the neatherd, and the swineherd stayed their feet\nfrom dancing, and made the women to cease, and themselves gat them to\nrest through the shadowy halls.\n\nNow when the twain had taken their fill of sweet love, they had delight\nin the tales, which they told one to the other. The fair lady spoke of\nall that she had endured in the halls at the sight of the ruinous\nthrong of wooers, who for her sake slew many cattle, kine and goodly\nsheep; and many a cask of wine was broached. And in turn, Odysseus, of\nthe seed of Zeus, recounted all the griefs he had wrought on men, and\nall his own travail and sorrow, and she was delighted with the story,\nand sweet sleep fell not upon her eyelids till the tale was ended.\n\nHe began by setting forth how he overcame the Cicones, and next arrived\nat the rich land of the Lotus-eaters, and all that the Cyclops wrought,\nand what a price he got from him for the good companions that he\ndevoured, and showed no pity. Then how he came to Aeolus, who received\nhim gladly and sent him on his way; but it was not yet ordained that he\nshould reach his own country, for the storm-wind seized him again, and\nbare him over the teeming seas, making grievous moan. Next how he came\nto Telepylus of the Laestrygonians, who brake his ships and slew all\nhis goodly-greaved companions, and Odysseus only escaped with his black\nship. Then he told all the wiles and many contrivances of Circe, and\nhow in a benched ship he fared to the dank house of Hades, to seek to\nthe soul of Theban Teiresias. There he beheld all those that had been\nhis companions, and his mother who bore him and nurtured him, while yet\nhe was a little one. Then how he heard the song of the full-voiced\nSirens, and came to the Rocks Wandering, and to terrible Charybdis, and\nto Scylla, that never yet have men avoided scatheless. Next he told how\nhis company slew the kine of Helios, and how Zeus, that thunders on\nhigh, smote the swift ship with the flaming bolt, and the good crew\nperished all together, and he alone escaped from evil fates. And how he\ncame to the isle Ogygia, and to the nymph Calypso, who kept him there\nin her hollow caves, longing to have him for her lord, and nurtured him\nand said that she would make him never to know death or age all his\ndays: yet she never won his heart within his breast. Next how with\ngreat toil he came to the Phaeacians, who gave him all worship\nheartily, as to a god, and sent him with a ship to his own dear\ncountry, with gifts of bronze, and of gold, and raiment in plenty. This\nwas the last word of the tale, when sweet sleep came speedily upon him,\nsleep that loosens the limbs of men, unknitting the cares of his soul.\n\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, turned to new thoughts. When she\ndeemed that Odysseus had taken his fill of love and sleep, straightway\nshe aroused from out Oceanus the golden-throned Dawn, to bear light to\nmen. Then Odysseus gat him from his soft bed, and laid this charge on\nhis wife, saying:\n\n\u201cLady, already have we had enough of labours, thou and I; thou, in\nweeping here, and longing for my troublous return, I, while Zeus and\nthe other gods bound me fast in pain, despite my yearning after home,\naway from mine own country. But now that we both have come to the bed\nof our desire, take thou thought for the care of my wealth within the\nhalls. But as for the sheep that the proud wooers have slain, I myself\nwill lift many more as spoil, and others the Achaeans will give, till\nthey fill all my folds. But now, behold, I go to the well-wooded\nfarm-land, to see my good father, who for love of me has been in sorrow\ncontinually. And this charge I lay on thee, lady, too wise though thou\nart to need it. Quickly will the bruit go forth with the rising sun,\nthe bruit concerning the wooers, whom I slew in the halls. Wherefore\nascend with the women thy handmaids into the upper chamber, and sit\nthere and look on no man, nor ask any question.\u201d\n\nTherewith he girded on his shoulder his goodly armour, and roused\nTelemachus and the neatherd and the swineherd, and bade them all take\nweapons of war in their hands. So they were not disobedient to his\nword, but clad themselves in mail, and opened the doors and went forth,\nand Odysseus led the way. And now there was light over all the earth;\nbut them Athene hid in night, and quickly conducted out of the town.\n\n\n\nBOOK XXIV.\n\n\nThe Ithacans bury the wooers, and sitting in council resolve on\nrevenge. And coming near the house of Laertes, are met by Odysseus, and\nLaertes with Telemachus and servants, the whole number twelve, and are\novercome, and submit.\n\n\nNow Cyllenian Hermes called forth from the halls the souls of the\nwooers, and he held in his hand his wand that is fair and golden,\nwherewith he lulls the eyes of men, of whomso he will, while others\nagain he even wakens out of sleep. Herewith he roused and led the souls\nwho followed gibbering. And even as bats flit gibbering in the secret\nplace of a wondrous cave, when one has fallen down from the cluster on\nthe rock, where they cling each to each up aloft, even so the souls\ngibbered as they fared together, and Hermes, the helper, led them down\nthe dank ways. Past the streams of Oceanus and the White Rock, past the\ngates of the Sun they sped and the land of dreams, and soon they came\nto the mead of asphodel, where dwell the souls, the phantoms of men\noutworn. There they found the soul of Achilles son of Peleus, and the\nsouls of Patroclus, and of noble Antilochus, and of Aias, who in face\nand form was goodliest of all the Danaans after the noble son of\nPeleus.\n\nSo these were flocking round Achilles, and the spirit of Agamemnon, son\nof Atreus, drew nigh sorrowful; and about him were gathered all the\nother shades, as many as perished with him in the house of Aegisthus,\nand met their doom. Now the soul of the son of Peleus spake to him\nfirst, saying:\n\n\u201cSon of Atreus, verily we deemed that thou above all other heroes wast\nevermore dear to Zeus, whose joy is in the thunder, seeing that thou\nwast lord over warriors, many and mighty men, in the land of the\nTrojans where we Achaeans suffered affliction. But lo, thee too was\ndeadly doom to visit early,[41] the doom that none avoids of all men\nborn. Ah, would that in the fulness of thy princely honour, thou hadst\nmet death and fate in the land of the Trojans! So would all the Achaean\nhost have builded thee a barrow, yea and for thy son thou wouldst have\nwon great glory in the aftertime. But now it has been decreed for thee\nto perish by a most pitiful death.\u201d\n\n [41] Reading \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03b9.\n\n\nThen the soul of the son of Atreus answered, and spake: \u201cHappy art thou\nson of Peleus, godlike Achilles, that didst die in Troy-land far from\nArgos, and about thee fell others, the best of the sons of Trojans and\nAchaeans, fighting for thy body; but thou in the whirl of dust layest\nmighty and mightily fallen, forgetful of thy chivalry. And we strove\nthe livelong day, nor would we ever have ceased from the fight, if Zeus\nhad not stayed us with a tempest. Anon when we had borne thee to the\nships from out of the battle, we laid thee on a bier and washed thy\nfair flesh clean with warm water and unguents, and around thee the\nDanaans shed many a hot tear and shore their hair. And forth from the\nsea came thy mother with the deathless maidens of the waters, when they\nheard the tidings; and a wonderful wailing rose over the deep, and\ntrembling fell on the limbs of all the Achaeans. Yea, and they would\nhave sprung up and departed to the hollow ships, had not one held them\nback that knew much lore from of old, Nestor, whose counsel proved\nheretofore the best. Out of his good will he made harangue, and spake\namong them:\n\n\u201c\u2018Hold, ye Argives, flee not, young lords of the Achaeans. Lo, his\nmother from the sea is she that comes, with the deathless maidens of\nthe waters, to behold the face of her dead son.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo he spake, and the high-hearted Achaeans ceased from their flight.\nThen round thee stood the daughters of the ancient one of the sea,\nholding a pitiful lament, and they clad thee about in raiment\nincorruptible. And all the nine Muses one to the other replying with\nsweet voices began the dirge; there thou wouldest not have seen an\nArgive but wept, so mightily rose up the clear chant. Thus for\nseventeen days and nights continually did we all bewail thee, immortal\ngods and mortal men. On the eighteenth day we gave thy body to the\nflames, and many well-fatted sheep we slew around thee, and kine of\nshambling gait. So thou wert burned in the garments of the gods, and in\nmuch unguents and in sweet honey, and many heroes of the Achaeans moved\nmail-clad around the pyre when thou wast burning, both footmen and\nhorse, and great was the noise that arose. But when the flame of\nHephaestus had utterly abolished thee, lo, in the morning we gathered\ntogether thy white bones, Achilles, and bestowed them in unmixed wine\nand in unguents. Thy mother gave a twy-handled golden urn, and said\nthat it was the gift of Dionysus, and the workmanship of renowned\nHephaestus. Therein lie thy white bones, great Achilles, and mingled\ntherewith the bones of Patroclus son of Menoetias, that is dead, but\napart is the dust of Antilochus, whom thou didst honour above all thy\nother companions, after Patroclus that was dead. Then over them did we\npile a great and goodly tomb, we the holy host of Argive warriors, high\non a jutting headland over wide Hellespont, that it might be far seen\nfrom off the sea by men that now are, and by those that shall be\nhereafter. Then thy mother asked the gods for glorious prizes in the\ngames, and set them in the midst of the lists for the champions of the\nAchaeans. In days past thou hast been at the funeral games of many a\nhero, whenso, after some king\u2019s death, the young men gird themselves\nand make them ready for the meed of victory; but couldst thou have seen\nthese gifts thou wouldst most have marvelled in spirit, such glorious\nprizes did the goddess set there to honour thee, even Thetis, the\nsilver-footed; for very dear wert thou to the gods. Thus not even in\ndeath hast thou lost thy name, but to thee shall be a fair renown for\never among all men, Achilles. But what joy have I now herein, that I\nhave wound up the clew of war, for on my return Zeus devised for me an\nevil end at the hands of Aegisthus and my wife accursed?\u201d\n\nSo they spake one to the other. And nigh them came the Messenger, the\nslayer of Argos, leading down the ghosts of the wooers by Odysseus\nslain, and the two heroes were amazed at the sight and went straight\ntoward them. And the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, knew the dear\nson of Melaneus, renowned Amphimedon, who had been his host, having his\ndwelling in Ithaca. The soul of the son of Atreus spake to him first,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cAmphimedon, what hath befallen you, that ye have come beneath the\ndarkness of earth, all of you picked men and of like age? it is even as\nthough one should choose out and gather together the best warriors in a\ncity. Did Poseidon smite you in your ships and rouse up contrary winds\nand the long waves? Or did unfriendly men, perchance, do you hurt upon\nthe land as ye were cutting off their oxen and fair flocks of sheep, or\nwhile they fought to defend their city and the women thereof? Answer\nand tell me, for I avow me a friend of thy house. Rememberest thou not\nthe day when I came to your house in Ithaca with godlike Menelaus, to\nurge Odysseus to follow with me to Ilios on the decked ships? And it\nwas a full month ere we had sailed all across the wide sea, for scarce\ncould we win to our cause Odysseus, waster of cities.\u201d\n\nThen the ghost of Amphimedon answered him, and spake: \u201cMost famous son\nof Atreus, king of men, Agamemnon, I remember all these things, O\nfosterling of Zeus, as thou declarest them, and I in turn will tell\nthee all the tale well and truly, even our death and evil end, on what\nwise it befell. We wooed the wife of Odysseus that was long afar, and\nshe neither refused the hated bridal nor was minded to make an end,\ndevising for us death and black fate. Also this other wile she\ncontrived in her heart. She set up in her halls a mighty web, fine of\nwoof and very wide, whereat she would weave, and anon she spake among\nus:\n\n\u201c\u2018Ye princely youths, my wooers, now that goodly Odysseus is dead, do\nye abide patiently, how eager soever to speed on this marriage of mine,\ntill I finish the robe. I would not that the threads perish to no\navail, even this shroud for the hero Laertes, against the day when the\nruinous doom shall bring him low, of death that lays men at their\nlength. So shall none of the Achaean women in the land count it blame\nin me, as well might be, were he to lie without a winding-sheet, a man\nthat had gotten great possessions.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo spake she, and our high hearts consented thereto. So then in the\ndaytime she would weave the mighty web, and in the night unravel the\nsame, when she had let place the torches by her. Thus for the space of\nthree years she hid the thing by guile and won the minds of the\nAchaeans; but when the fourth year arrived and the seasons came round,\nas the months waned and many days were accomplished, then it was that\none of her women who knew all declared it, and we found her unravelling\nthe splendid web. Thus she finished it perforce and sore against her\nwill. Now when she brought the robe to light, after she had woven the\ngreat web and washed it, and it shone even as sun or moon, at that very\nhour some evil god led Odysseus, I know not whence, to the upland farm,\nwhere the swineherd abode in his dwelling. Thither too came the dear\nson of divine Odysseus out of sandy Pylos, voyaging with his black\nship. These twain framed an evil death for the wooers, and came to the\nrenowned town. Odysseus verily came the later, and Telemachus went\nbefore and led the way. Now the swineherd brought Odysseus clad in vile\nraiment, in the likeness of a beggar, a wretched man and an old,\nleaning on a staff, and behold, he was clad about in sorry raiment. And\nnone of us, not even the elders, could know him for that he was, on\nthis his sudden appearing, but with evil words we assailed him and\nhurled things at him. Yet for a while he hardened his heart to endure\nboth the hurlings and the evil words in his own halls; but at the last,\nwhen the spirit of Zeus, lord of the aegis, aroused him, by the help of\nTelemachus he took up all the goodly weapons, and laid them by in the\ninner chamber and drew the bolts. Next in his great craft he bade his\nwife to offer his bow and store of grey iron to the wooers to be the\nweapons of our contest, luckless that we were, and the beginning of\ndeath. Now not one of us could stretch the string of the strong bow;\nfar short we fell of that might. But when the great bow came to the\nhands of Odysseus, then we all clamoured and forbade to give him the\nbow, how much soever he might speak, but Telemachus alone was instant\nwith him and commanded him to take it. Then he took the bow into his\nhands, the steadfast goodly Odysseus, and lightly he strung it, and\nsent the arrow through the iron. Then straight he went to the threshold\nand there took his stand, and poured forth the swift arrows, glancing\nterribly around, and smote the king Antinous. Thereafter on the others\nhe let fly his bolts, winged for death, with straight aim, and the\nwooers fell thick one upon another. Then was it known how that some god\nwas their helper, for pressing on as their passion drave them, they\nslew the men right and left through the halls, and thence there arose a\nhideous moaning, as heads were smitten and the floor all ran with\nblood. So we perished, Agamemnon, and even now our bodies lie uncared\nfor in the halls of Odysseus, for the friends of each one at home as\nyet know nought, even they who might wash the black-clotted blood out\nof our wounds, and lay out the bodies and wail the dirge, for that is\nthe due of the dead.\u201d\n\nThen the ghost of the son of Atreus answered him: \u201cAh, happy son of\nLaertes, Odysseus of many devices, yea, for a wife most excellent hast\nthou gotten, so good was the wisdom of constant Penelope, daughter of\nIcarius, that was duly mindful of Odysseus, her wedded lord. Wherefore\nthe fame of her virtue shall never perish, but the immortals will make\na gracious song in the ears of men on earth to the fame of constant\nPenelope. In far other wise did the daughter of Tyndareus devise ill\ndeeds, and slay her wedded lord, and hateful shall the song of her be\namong men, and an evil repute hath she brought upon all womankind, even\non the upright.\u201d\n\nEven so these twain spake one to the other, standing in the house of\nHades, beneath the secret places of the earth.\n\nNow when those others had gone down from the city, quickly they came to\nthe rich and well-ordered farm land of Laertes, that he had won for\nhimself of old, as the prize of great toil in war. There was his house,\nand all about it ran the huts wherein the thralls were wont to eat and\ndwell and sleep, bondsmen that worked his will. And in the house there\nwas an old Sicilian woman, who diligently cared for the old man, in the\nupland far from the city. There Odysseus spake to his thralls and to\nhis son, saying:\n\n\u201cDo ye now get you within the well-builded house, and quickly sacrifice\nthe best of the swine for the midday meal, but I will make trial of my\nfather, whether he will know me again and be aware of me when he sees\nme, or know me not, so long have I been away,\u201d\n\nTherewith he gave the thralls his weapons of war. Then they went\nspeedily to the house, while Odysseus drew near to the fruitful\nvineyard to make trial of his father. Now he found not Dolius there, as\nhe went down into the great garden, nor any of the thralls nor of their\nsons. It chanced that they had all gone to gather stones for a garden\nfence, and the old man at their head. So he found his father alone in\nthe terraced vineyard, digging about a plant. He was clothed in a\nfilthy doublet, patched and unseemly, with clouted leggings of oxhide\nbound about his legs, against the scratches of the thorns, and long\nsleeves over his hands by reason of the brambles, and on his head he\nwore a goatskin cap, and so he nursed his sorrow. Now when the\nsteadfast goodly Odysseus saw his father thus wasted with age and in\ngreat grief of heart, he stood still beneath a tall pear tree and let\nfall a tear. Then he communed with his heart and soul, whether he\nshould fall on his father\u2019s neck and kiss him, and tell him all, how he\nhad returned and come to his own country, or whether he should first\nquestion him and prove him in every word. And as he thought within\nhimself, this seemed to him the better way, namely, first to prove his\nfather and speak to him sharply. So with this intent the goodly\nOdysseus went up to him. Now he was holding his head down and kept\ndigging about the plant, while his renowned son stood by him and spake,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cOld man, thou hast no lack of skill in tending a garden; lo, thou\ncarest well for all,[42] nor is there aught whatsoever, either plant or\nfig-tree, or vine, yea, or olive, or pear, or garden-bed in all the\nclose, that is not well seen to. Yet another thing will I tell thee and\nlay not up wrath thereat in thy heart. Thyself art scarce so well cared\nfor, but a pitiful old age is on thee, and withal thou art withered and\nunkempt, and clad unseemly. It cannot be to punish thy sloth that thy\nmaster cares not for thee; there shows nothing of the slave about thy\nface and stature, for thou art like a kingly man, even like one who\nshould lie soft, when he has washed and eaten well, as is the manner of\nthe aged. But come declare me this and plainly tell it all. Whose\nthrall art thou, and whose garden dost thou tend? Tell me moreover\ntruly, that I may surely know, if it be indeed to Ithaca that I am now\ncome, as one yonder told me who met with me but now on the way hither.\nHe was but of little understanding, for he deigned not to tell me all\nnor to heed my saying, when I questioned him concerning my friend,\nwhether indeed he is yet alive or is even now dead and within the house\nof Hades. For I will declare it and do thou mark and listen: once did I\nkindly entreat a man in mine own dear country, who came to our home,\nand never yet has any mortal been dearer of all the strangers that have\ndrawn to my house from afar. He declared him to be by lineage from out\nof Ithaca, and said that his own father was Laertes son of Arceisius.\nSo I led him to our halls and gave him good entertainment, with all\nloving-kindness, out of the plenty that was within. Such gifts too I\ngave him as are the due of guests; of well wrought gold I gave him\nseven talents, and a mixing bowl of flowered work, all of silver, and\ntwelve cloaks of single fold, and as many coverlets, and as many goodly\nmantles and doublets to boot, and besides all these, four women skilled\nin all fair works and most comely, the women of his choice.\u201d\n\n [42] Supplying \u1f44\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd from the preceding clause as object to \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9.\n Other constructions are possible.\n\n\nThen his father answered him, weeping: \u201cStranger, thou art verily come\nto that country whereof thou askest, but outrageous men and froward\nhold it. And these thy gifts, thy countless gifts, thou didst bestow in\nvain. For if thou hadst found that man yet living in the land of Ithaca\nhe would have sent thee on thy way with good return of thy presents,\nand with all hospitality, as is due to the man that begins the\nkindness. But come, declare me this and plainly tell me all; how many\nyears are passed since thou didst entertain him, thy guest ill-fated\nand my child,\u2014if ever such an one there was,\u2014hapless man, whom far from\nhis friends and his country\u2019s soil, the fishes, it may be, have\ndevoured in the deep sea, or on the shore he has fallen the prey of\nbirds and beasts. His mother wept not over him nor clad him for burial,\nnor his father, we that begat him. Nor did his bride, whom men sought\nwith rich gifts, the constant Penelope, bewail her lord upon the bier,\nas was meet, nor closed his eyes, as is the due of the departed.\nMoreover, tell me this truly, that I may surely know, who art thou and\nwhence of the sons of men? Where is thy city and where are they that\nbegat thee? Where now is thy swift ship moored, that brought thee\nthither with thy godlike company? Hast thou come as a passenger on\nanother\u2019s ship, while they set thee ashore and went away?\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered him, saying: \u201cYea now, I will\ntell thee all most plainly. From out of Alybas I come, where I dwell in\na house renowned, and am the son of Apheidas the son of Polypemon, the\nprince, and my own name is Eperitus. But some god drave me wandering\nhither from Sicania against my will, and yonder my ship is moored\ntoward the upland away from the city. But for Odysseus, this is now the\nfifth year since he went thence and departed out of my country.\nIll-fated was he, and yet he had birds of good omen when he fared away,\nbirds on the right; wherefore I sped him gladly on his road, and gladly\nhe departed, and the heart of us twain hoped yet to meet in friendship\non a day and to give splendid gifts.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and on the old man fell a black cloud of sorrow. With both\nhis hands he clutched the dust and ashes and showered them on his gray\nhead, with ceaseless groaning. Then the heart of Odysseus was moved,\nand up through his nostrils throbbed anon the keen sting of sorrow at\nthe sight of his dear father. And he sprang towards him and fell on his\nneck and kissed him, saying:\n\n\u201cBehold, I here, even I, my father, am the man of whom thou askest; in\nthe twentieth year am I come to mine own country. But stay thy weeping\nand tearful lamentation, for I will tell thee all clearly, though great\nneed there is of haste. I have slain the wooers in our halls and\navenged their bitter scorn and evil deeds.\u201d\n\nThen Laertes answered him and spake, saying: \u201cIf thou art indeed\nOdysseus, mine own child, that art come hither, show me now a manifest\ntoken, that I may be assured.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cLook first on this\nscar and consider it, that the boar dealt me with his white tusk on\nParnassus, whither I had gone, and thou didst send me forth, thou and\nmy lady mother, to Autolycus my mother\u2019s father, to get the gifts which\nwhen he came hither he promised and covenanted to give me. But come,\nand I will even tell thee the trees through all the terraced garden,\nwhich thou gavest me once for mine own, and I was begging of thee this\nand that, being but a little child, and following thee through the\ngarden. Through these very trees we were going, and thou didst tell me\nthe names of each of them. Pear-trees thirteen thou gavest me and ten\napple-trees and figs two-score, and, as we went, thou didst name the\nfifty rows of vines thou wouldest give me, whereof each one ripened at\ndivers times, with all manner of clusters on their boughs, when the\nseasons of Zeus wrought mightily on them from on high.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and straightway his knees were loosened, and his heart\nmelted within him, as he knew the sure tokens that Odysseus showed him.\nAbout his dear son he cast his arms, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus\ncaught him fainting to his breast. Now when he had got breath and his\nspirit came to him again, once more he answered and spake, saying:\n\n\u201cFather Zeus, verily ye gods yet bear sway on high Olympus, if indeed\nthe wooers have paid for their infatuate pride! But now my heart is\nterribly afraid, lest straightway all the men of Ithaca come up against\nus here, and haste to send messengers everywhere to the cities of the\nCephallenians.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: \u201cTake courage, and\nlet not thy heart be careful about these matters. But come, let us go\nto the house that lies near the garden, for thither I sent forward\nTelemachus and the neatherd and the swineherd to get ready the meal as\nspeedily as may be.\u201d\n\nAfter these words the twain set out to the goodly halls. Now when they\nhad come to the fair-lying house, they found Telemachus and the\nneatherd and the swineherd carving much flesh, and mixing the dark\nwine. Meanwhile the Sicilian handmaid bathed high-hearted Laertes in\nhis house, and anointed him with olive-oil, and cast a fair mantle\nabout him. Then Athene drew nigh, and made greater the limbs of the\nshepherd of the people, taller she made him than before and mightier to\nbehold. Then he went forth from the bath, and his dear son marvelled at\nhim, beholding him like to the deathless gods in presence. And uttering\nhis voice he spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cFather, surely one of the gods that are from everlasting hath made\nthee goodlier and greater to behold.\u201d\n\nThen wise Laertes answered him, saying: \u201cAh, would to father Zeus and\nAthene and Apollo, that such as I was when I took Nericus, the\nstablished castle on the foreland of the continent, being then the\nprince of the Cephallenians, would that in such might, and with mail\nabout my shoulders, I had stood to aid thee yesterday in our house, and\nto beat back the wooers; so should I have loosened the knees of many an\none of them in the halls, and thou shouldest have been gladdened in\nthine inmost heart!\u201d\n\nSo they spake each with the other. But when the others had ceased from\ntheir task and made ready the feast, they sat down all orderly on\nchairs and on high seats. Then they began to put forth their hands on\nthe meat, and the old man Dolius drew nigh, and the old man\u2019s sons\nwithal came tired from their labour in the fields, for their mother,\nthe aged Sicilian woman, had gone forth and called them, she that saw\nto their living and diligently cared for the old man, now that old age\nhad laid hold on him. So soon as they looked on Odysseus and took\nknowledge of him, they stood still in the halls in great amazement. But\nOdysseus addressed them in gentle words, saying:\n\n\u201cOld man, sit down to meat and do ye forget your marvelling, for long\nhave we been eager to put forth our hands on the food, as we abode in\nthe hall alway expecting your coming.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and Dolius ran straight toward him stretching forth both\nhis hands, and he grasped the hand of Odysseus and kissed it on the\nwrist, and uttering his voice spake to him winged words:\n\n\u201cBeloved, forasmuch as thou hast come back to us who sore desired thee,\nand no longer thought to see thee, and the gods have led thee home\nagain;\u2014hail to thee and welcome manifold, and may the gods give thee\nall good fortune! Moreover tell me this truly, that I may be assured,\nwhether wise Penelope yet knows well that thou hast come back hither,\nor whether we shall dispatch a messenger.\u201d\n\nThen Odysseus of many counsels answered saying: \u201cOld man, already she\nknows all; what need to busy thyself herewith?\u201d\n\nThereon the other sat him down again on his polished settle. And in\nlike wise the sons of Dolius gathered about the renowned Odysseus, and\ngreeted him well and clasped his hands, and then sat down all orderly\nby Dolius their father.\n\nSo they were busy with the meal in the halls. Now Rumour the messenger\nwent swiftly all about the city, telling the tale of the dire death and\nfate of the wooers. And the people heard it, and all at once gathered\ntogether from every side with sighing and groaning before the house of\nOdysseus. And each brought forth his dead from the halls, and buried\nthem; but those that came out of other cities they placed on swift\nships and sent with fisherfolk, each to be carried to his own home. As\nfor them they all fared together to the assembly-place, in sorrow of\nheart. When they were all gathered and come together, Eupeithes arose\nand spake among them, for a comfortless grief lay heavy on his heart\nfor his son Antinous, the first man that goodly Odysseus had slain.\nWeeping for him he made harangue and spake among them:\n\n\u201cFriends, a great deed truly hath this man devised against the\nAchaeans. Some with his ships he led away, many men, and noble, and his\nhollow ships hath he lost, and utterly lost of his company, and others\nagain, and those far the best of the Cephallenians he hath slain on his\ncoming home. Up now, before ever he gets him swiftly either to Pylos or\nto fair Elis, where the Epeians bear sway, let us go forth; else even\nhereafter shall we have shame of face for ever. For a scorn this is\neven for the ears of men unborn to hear, if we avenge not ourselves on\nthe slayers of our sons and of our brethren. Life would no more be\nsweet to me, but rather would I die straightway and be with the\ndeparted. Up, let us be going, lest these fellows be beforehand with us\nand get them over the sea.\u201d\n\nThus he spake weeping, and pity fell on all the Achaeans. Then came\nnear to them Medon and the divine minstrel, forth from the halls of\nOdysseus, for that sleep had let them go. They stood in the midst of\nthe gathering, and amazement seized every man. Then Medon, wise of\nheart, spake among them, saying:\n\n\u201cHearken to me now, ye men of Ithaca, for surely Odysseus planned not\nthese deeds without the will of the gods. Nay I myself beheld a god\nimmortal, who stood hard by Odysseus, in the perfect semblance of\nMentor; now as a deathless god was he manifest in front of Odysseus,\ncheering him, and yet again scaring the wooers he stormed through the\nhall, and they fell thick one on another.\u201d\n\nThus he spake, and pale fear gat hold of the limbs of all. Then the old\nman, the lord Halitherses, spake among them, the son of Mastor, for he\nalone saw before and after. Out of his good will be made harangue and\nspake among them, saying:\n\n\u201cHearken to me now, ye men of Ithaca, to the word that I will say.\nThrough your own cowardice, my friends, have these deeds come to pass.\nFor ye obeyed not me, nor Mentor, the shepherd of the people, to make\nyour sons cease from their foolish ways. A great villainy they wrought\nin their evil infatuation, wasting the wealth and holding in no regard\nthe wife of a prince, while they deemed that he would never more come\nhome. And now let things be on this wise, and obey my counsel. Let us\nnot go forth against him, lest haply some may find a bane of their own\nbringing.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, but they leapt up with a great cry, the more part of them,\nwhile the rest abode there together; for his counsel was not to the\nmind of the more part, but they gave ear to Eupeithes, and swiftly\nthereafter they rushed for their armour. So when they had arrayed them\nin shining mail, they assembled together in front of the spacious town.\nAnd Eupeithes led them in his witlessness, for he thought to avenge the\nslaying of his son, yet himself was never to return, but then and there\nto meet his doom.\n\nNow Athene spake to Zeus, the son of Cronos, saying: \u201cO Father, our\nfather Cronides, throned in the highest, answer and tell me what is now\nthe hidden counsel of thy heart? Wilt thou yet further rouse up evil\nwar and the terrible din of battle, or art thou minded to set them at\none again in friendship?\u201d\n\nThen Zeus, the gatherer of the clouds, answered her saying: \u201cMy child,\nwhy dost thou thus straitly question me, and ask me this? Nay didst not\nthou thyself devise this very thought, namely, that Odysseus should\nindeed take vengeance on these men at his coming? Do as thou wilt, but\nI will tell thee of the better way. Now that goodly Odysseus hath\nwreaked vengeance on the wooers, let them make a firm covenant together\nwith sacrifice, and let him be king all his days, and let us bring\nabout oblivion of the slaying of their children and their brethren; so\nmay both sides love one another as of old, and let peace and wealth\nabundant be their portion.\u201d\n\nTherewith he roused Athene to yet greater eagerness, and from the peaks\nof Olympus she came glancing down.\n\nNow when they had put from them the desire of honey-sweet food, the\nsteadfast goodly Odysseus began to speak among them, saying:\n\n\u201cLet one go forth and see, lest the people be already drawing near\nagainst us.\u201d\n\nSo he spake, and the son of Dolius went forth at his bidding, and stood\non the outer threshold and saw them all close at hand. Then straightway\nhe spake to Odysseus winged words:\n\n\u201cHere they be, close upon us! Quick, let us to arms!\u201d\n\nThereon they rose up and arrayed them in their harness, Odysseus and\nhis men being four, and the six sons of Dolius, and likewise Laertes\nand Dolius did on their armour, grey-headed as they were, warriors\nthrough stress of need. Now when they had clad them in shining mail,\nthey opened the gates and went forth and Odysseus led them.\n\nThen Athene, daughter of Zeus, drew near them in the likeness of\nMentor, in fashion and in voice. And the steadfast goodly Odysseus\nbeheld her and was glad, and straightway he spake to Telemachus his\ndear son:\n\n\u201cTelemachus, soon shalt thou learn this, when thou thyself art got to\nthe place of the battle where the best men try the issue,\u2014namely, not\nto bring shame on thy father\u2019s house, on us who in time past have been\neminent for might and hardihood over all the world.\u201d\n\nThen wise Telemachus answered him, saying: \u201cThou shalt see me, if thou\nwilt, dear father, in this my mood no whit disgracing thy line,\naccording to thy word.\u201d\n\nSo spake he, and Laertes was glad and spake, saying: \u201cWhat a day has\ndawned for me, kind gods; yea, a glad man am I! My son and my son\u2019s son\nare vying with one another in valour.\u201d\n\nThen grey-eyed Athene stood beside Laertes, and spake to him: \u201cO son of\nArceisius that art far the dearest of all my friends, pray first to the\ngrey-eyed maid and to father Zeus, then swing thy long spear aloft and\nhurl its straightway.\u201d\n\nTherewith Pallas Athene breathed into him great strength. Then he\nprayed to the daughter of mighty Zeus, and straightway swung his long\nspear aloft and hurled it, and smote Eupeithes through his casque with\nthe cheek-piece of bronze. The armour kept not out the spear that went\nclean through, and he fell with a crash, and his arms rattled about his\nbody. Then Odysseus and his renowned son fell on the fore-fighters, and\nsmote them with swords and two-headed spears. And now would they have\nslain them all and cut off their return, had not Athene called aloud,\nthe daughter of Zeus lord of the aegis, and stayed all the host of the\nenemy, saying:\n\n\u201cHold your hands from fierce fighting, ye men of Ithaca, that so ye may\nbe parted quickly, without bloodshed.\u201d\n\nSo spake Athene, and pale fear gat hold of them all. The arms flew from\ntheir hands in their terror and fell all upon the ground, as the\ngoddess uttered her voice. To the city they turned their steps, as men\nfain of life, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus with a terrible cry\ngathered himself together and hurled in on them, like an eagle of lofty\nflight. Then in that hour the son of Cronos cast forth a flaming bolt,\nand it fell at the feet of the grey-eyed goddess, the daughter of the\nmighty Sire. Then grey-eyed Athene spake to Odysseus, saying:\n\n\u201cSon of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, refrain\nthee now and stay the strife of even-handed war, lest perchance the son\nof Cronos be angry with thee, even Zeus of the far-borne voice.\u201d\n\nSo spake Athene, and he obeyed and was glad at heart. And thereafter\nPallas Athene set a covenant between them with sacrifice, she, the\ndaughter of Zeus lord of the aegis, in the likeness of Mentor, both in\nfashion and in voice.\n\n\n\nHomer, thy song men liken to the sea,\n     With every note of music in his tone,\n     With tides that wash the dim dominion\n Of Hades, and light waves that laugh in glee\n Around the isles enchanted: nay, to me\n     Thy verse seems as the River of source unknown\n     That glasses Egypt\u2019s temples overthrown,\n In his sky-nurtur\u2019d stream, eternally.\n No wiser we than men of heretofore\n     To find thy mystic fountains guarded fast;\n Enough\u2014thy flood makes green our human shore\n     As Nilus, Egypt, rolling down his vast,\n His fertile waters, murmuring evermore\n     Of gods dethroned, and empires of the Past.\n\n\nA. L.","title":"The Odyssey of Homer","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":142331}