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diff --git a/1727-0.txt b/1727-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b7bbca8 --- /dev/null +++ b/1727-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12236 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Odyssey, by Homer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Odyssey + +Author: Homer + +Translator: Samuel Butler + +Release Date: April, 1999 [eBook #1727] +[Most recently updated: December 1, 2023] + +Language: English + +Produced by: Jim Tinsley and David Widger + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ODYSSEY *** + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +The Odyssey + +by Homer + +rendered into English prose for the use of those who cannot read the +original + +Contents + + PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION + PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION + THE ODYSSEY + BOOK I. + BOOK II. + BOOK III. + BOOK IV. + BOOK V. + BOOK VI. + BOOK VII. + BOOK VIII. + BOOK IX. + BOOK X. + BOOK XI. + BOOK XII. + BOOK XIII. + BOOK XIV. + BOOK XV. + BOOK XVI. + BOOK XVII. + BOOK XVIII. + BOOK XIX. + BOOK XX. + BOOK XXI. + BOOK XXII. + BOOK XXIII. + BOOK XXIV. + FOOTNOTES: + + +AL PROFESSORE +CAV. BIAGIO INGROIA, +PREZIOSO ALLEATO +L’AUTORE RICONOSCENTE. + + + + +PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION + + +This translation is intended to supplement a work entitled “The +Authoress of the Odyssey”, which I published in 1897. I could not give +the whole “Odyssey” in that book without making it unwieldy, I +therefore epitomised my translation, which was already completed and +which I now publish in full. + +I shall not here argue the two main points dealt with in the work just +mentioned; I have nothing either to add to, or to withdraw from, what I +have there written. The points in question are: + +(1) that the “Odyssey” was written entirely at, and drawn entirely +from, the place now called Trapani on the West Coast of Sicily, alike +as regards the Phaeacian and the Ithaca scenes; while the voyages of +Ulysses, when once he is within easy reach of Sicily, solve themselves +into a periplus of the island, practically from Trapani back to +Trapani, via the Lipari islands, the Straits of Messina, and the island +of Pantellaria. + +(2) That the poem was entirely written by a very young woman, who lived +at the place now called Trapani, and introduced herself into her work +under the name of Nausicaa. + +The main arguments on which I base the first of these somewhat +startling contentions, have been prominently and repeatedly before the +English and Italian public ever since they appeared (without rejoinder) +in the “Athenaeum” for January 30 and February 20, 1892. Both +contentions were urged (also without rejoinder) in the Johnian “Eagle” +for the Lent and October terms of the same year. Nothing to which I +should reply has reached me from any quarter, and knowing how anxiously +I have endeavoured to learn the existence of any flaws in my argument, +I begin to feel some confidence that, did such flaws exist, I should +have heard, at any rate about some of them, before now. Without, +therefore, for a moment pretending to think that scholars generally +acquiesce in my conclusions, I shall act as thinking them little likely +so to gainsay me as that it will be incumbent upon me to reply, and +shall confine myself to translating the “Odyssey” for English readers, +with such notes as I think will be found useful. Among these I would +especially call attention to one on xxii. 465-473 which Lord Grimthorpe +has kindly allowed me to make public. + +I have repeated several of the illustrations used in “The Authoress of +the Odyssey”, and have added two which I hope may bring the outer court +of Ulysses’ house more vividly before the reader. I should like to +explain that the presence of a man and a dog in one illustration is +accidental, and was not observed by me till I developed the negative. +In an appendix I have also reprinted the paragraphs explanatory of the +plan of Ulysses’ house, together with the plan itself. The reader is +recommended to study this plan with some attention. + +In the preface to my translation of the “Iliad” I have given my views +as to the main principles by which a translator should be guided, and +need not repeat them here, beyond pointing out that the initial liberty +of translating poetry into prose involves the continual taking of more +or less liberty throughout the translation; for much that is right in +poetry is wrong in prose, and the exigencies of readable prose are the +first things to be considered in a prose translation. That the reader, +however, may see how far I have departed from strict construe, I will +print here Messrs. Butcher and Lang’s translation of the sixty lines or +so of the “Odyssey.” Their translation runs: + +Tell me, Muse, of that man, so ready at need, who wandered far and +wide, after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy, and many were the +men whose towns he saw and whose mind he learnt, yea, and many the woes +he suffered in his heart on the deep, striving to win his own life and +the return of his company. Nay, but even so he saved not his company, +though he desired it sore. For through the blindness of their own +hearts they perished, fools, who devoured the oxen of Helios Hyperion: +but the god took from them their day of returning. Of these things, +goddess, daughter of Zeus, whencesoever thou hast heard thereof, +declare thou even unto us. + + Now all the rest, as many as fled from sheer destruction, were at + home, and had escaped both war and sea, but Odysseus only, craving + for his wife and for his homeward path, the lady nymph Calypso + held, that fair goddess, in her hollow caves, longing to have him + for her lord. But when now the year had come in the courses of the + seasons, wherein the gods had ordained that he should return home + to Ithaca, not even there was he quit of labours, not even among + his own; but all the gods had pity on him save Poseidon, who raged + continually against godlike Odysseus, till he came to his own + country. Howbeit Poseidon had now departed for the distant + Ethiopians, the Ethiopians that are sundered in twain, the + uttermost of men, abiding some where Hyperion sinks and some where + he rises. There he looked to receive his hecatomb of bulls and + rams, there he made merry sitting at the feast, but the other gods + were gathered in the halls of Olympian Zeus. Then among them the + father of men and gods began to speak, for he bethought him in his + heart of noble Aegisthus, whom the son of Agamemnon, far-famed + Orestes, slew. Thinking upon him he spake out among the Immortals: + ‘Lo you now, how vainly mortal men do blame the gods! For of us + they say comes evil, whereas they even of themselves, through the + blindness of their own hearts, have sorrows beyond that which is + ordained. Even as of late Aegisthus, beyond that which was + ordained, took to him the wedded wife of the son of Atreus, and + killed her lord on his return, and that with sheer doom before his + eyes, since we had warned him by the embassy of Hermes the + keen-sighted, the slayer of Argos, that he should neither kill the + man, nor woo his wife. For the son of Atreus shall be avenged at + the hand of Orestes, so soon as he shall come to man’s estate and + long for his own country. So spake Hermes, yet he prevailed not on + the heart of Aegisthus, for all his good will; but now hath he paid + one price for all.’ + + And the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him, saying: ‘O father, + our father Cronides, throned in the highest; that man assuredly + lies in a death that is his due; so perish likewise all who work + such deeds! But my heart is rent for wise Odysseus, the hapless + one, who far from his friends this long while suffereth affliction + in a sea-girt isle, where is the navel of the sea, a woodland isle, + and therein a goddess hath her habitation, the daughter of the + wizard Atlas, who knows the depths of every sea, and himself + upholds the tall pillars which keep earth and sky asunder. His + daughter it is that holds the hapless man in sorrow: and ever with + soft and guileful tales she is wooing him to forgetfulness of + Ithaca. But Odysseus yearning to see if it were but the smoke leap + upwards from his own land, hath a desire to die. As for thee, thine + heart regardeth it not at all, Olympian! What! Did not Odysseus by + the ships of the Argives make thee free offering of sacrifice in + the wide Trojan land? Wherefore wast thou then so wroth with him, O + Zeus?’ + + +The “Odyssey” (as every one knows) abounds in passages borrowed from +the “Iliad”; I had wished to print these in a slightly different type, +with marginal references to the “Iliad,” and had marked them to this +end in my MS. I found, however, that the translation would be thus +hopelessly scholasticised, and abandoned my intention. I would +nevertheless urge on those who have the management of our University +presses, that they would render a great service to students if they +would publish a Greek text of the “Odyssey” with the Iliadic passages +printed in a different type, and with marginal references. I have given +the British Museum a copy of the “Odyssey” with the Iliadic passages +underlined and referred to in MS.; I have also given an “Iliad” marked +with all the Odyssean passages, and their references; but copies of +both the “Iliad” and “Odyssey” so marked ought to be within easy reach +of all students. + +Any one who at the present day discusses the questions that have arisen +round the “Iliad” since Wolf’s time, without keeping it well before his +reader’s mind that the “Odyssey” was demonstrably written from one +single neighbourhood, and hence (even though nothing else pointed to +this conclusion) presumably by one person only—that it was written +certainly before 750, and in all probability before 1000 B.C.—that the +writer of this very early poem was demonstrably familiar with the +“Iliad” as we now have it, borrowing as freely from those books whose +genuineness has been most impugned, as from those which are admitted to +be by Homer—any one who fails to keep these points before his readers, +is hardly dealing equitably by them. Any one on the other hand, who +will mark his “Iliad” and his “Odyssey” from the copies in the British +Museum above referred to, and who will draw the only inference that +common sense can draw from the presence of so many identical passages +in both poems, will, I believe, find no difficulty in assigning their +proper value to a large number of books here and on the Continent that +at present enjoy considerable reputations. Furthermore, and this +perhaps is an advantage better worth securing, he will find that many +puzzles of the “Odyssey” cease to puzzle him on the discovery that they +arise from over-saturation with the “Iliad.” + +Other difficulties will also disappear as soon as the development of +the poem in the writer’s mind is understood. I have dealt with this at +some length in pp. 251-261 of “The Authoress of the Odyssey”. Briefly, +the “Odyssey” consists of two distinct poems: (1) The Return of +Ulysses, which alone the Muse is asked to sing in the opening lines of +the poem. This poem includes the Phaeacian episode, and the account of +Ulysses’ adventures as told by himself in Books ix.-xii. It consists of +lines 1-79 (roughly) of Book i., of line 28 of Book v., and thence +without intermission to the middle of line 187 of Book xiii., at which +point the original scheme was abandoned. + +(2) The story of Penelope and the suitors, with the episode of +Telemachus’ voyage to Pylos. This poem begins with line 80 (roughly) of +Book i., is continued to the end of Book iv., and not resumed till +Ulysses wakes in the middle of line 187, Book xiii., from whence it +continues to the end of Book xxiv. + +In “The Authoress of the Odyssey”, I wrote: + +the introduction of lines xi., 115-137 and of line ix., 535, with the +writing a new council of the gods at the beginning of Book v., to take +the place of the one that was removed to Book i., 1-79, were the only +things that were done to give even a semblance of unity to the old +scheme and the new, and to conceal the fact that the Muse, after being +asked to sing of one subject, spend two-thirds of her time in singing a +very different one, with a climax for which no-one has asked her. For +roughly the Return occupies eight Books, and Penelope and the Suitors +sixteen. + + +I believe this to be substantially correct. + +Lastly, to deal with a very unimportant point, I observe that the +Leipsic Teubner edition of 894 makes Books ii. and iii. end with a +comma. Stops are things of such far more recent date than the +“Odyssey,” that there does not seem much use in adhering to the text in +so small a matter; still, from a spirit of mere conservatism, I have +preferred to do so. Why [Greek] at the beginnings of Books ii. and +viii., and [Greek], at the beginning of Book vii. should have initial +capitals in an edition far too careful to admit a supposition of +inadvertence, when [Greek] at the beginning of Books vi. and xiii., and +[Greek] at the beginning of Book xvii. have no initial capitals, I +cannot determine. No other Books of the “Odyssey” have initial capitals +except the three mentioned unless the first word of the Book is a +proper name. + +S. BUTLER. + + +_July_ 25, 1900. + + + + +PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION + + +Butler’s Translation of the “Odyssey” appeared originally in 1900, and +The Authoress of the Odyssey in 1897. In the preface to the new edition +of “The Authoress”, which is published simultaneously with this new +edition of the Translation, I have given some account of the genesis of +the two books. + +The size of the original page has been reduced so as to make both books +uniform with Butler’s other works; and, fortunately, it has been +possible, by using a smaller type, to get the same number of words into +each page, so that the references remain good, and, with the exception +of a few minor alterations and rearrangements now to be enumerated so +far as they affect the Translation, the new editions are faithful +reprints of the original editions, with misprints and obvious errors +corrected—no attempt having been made to edit them or to bring them up +to date. + +(a) The Index has been revised. + +(b) Owing to the reduction in the size of the page it has been +necessary to shorten some of the headlines, and here advantage has been +taken of various corrections of and additions to the headlines and +shoulder-notes made by Butler in his own copies of the two books. + +(c) For the most part each of the illustrations now occupies a page, +whereas in the original editions they generally appeared two on the +page. It has been necessary to reduce the plan of the House of Ulysses. + +On page 153 of “The Authoress” Butler says: “No great poet would +compare his hero to a paunch full of blood and fat, cooking before the +fire (xx, 24-28).” This passage is not given in the abridged Story of +the “Odyssey” at the beginning of the book, but in the Translation it +occurs in these words: + +“Thus he chided with his heart, and checked it into endurance, but he +tossed about as one who turns a paunch full of blood and fat in front +of a hot fire, doing it first on one side then on the other, that he +may get it cooked as soon as possible; even so did he turn himself +about from side to side, thinking all the time how, single-handed as he +was, he should contrive to kill so large a body of men as the wicked +suitors.” + +It looks as though in the interval between the publication of “The +Authoress” (1897) and of the Translation (1900) Butler had changed his +mind; for in the first case the comparison is between Ulysses and a +paunch full, etc., and in the second it is between Ulysses and a man +who turns a paunch full, etc. The second comparison is perhaps one +which a great poet might make. + +In seeing the works through the press I have had the invaluable +assistance of Mr. A. T. Bartholomew of the University Library, +Cambridge, and of Mr. Donald S. Robertson, Fellow of Trinity College, +Cambridge. To both these friends I give my most cordial thanks for the +care and skill exercised by them. Mr. Robertson has found time for the +labour of checking and correcting all the quotations from and +references to the “Iliad” and “Odyssey,” and I believe that it could +not have been better performed. It was, I know, a pleasure for him; and +it would have been a pleasure also for Butler if he could have known +that his work was being shepherded by the son of his old friend, Mr. H. +R. Robertson, who more than half a century ago was a fellow-student +with him at Cary’s School of Art in Streatham Street, Bloomsbury. + +HENRY FESTING JONES. + + 120 MAIDA VALE, W.9. +4th _December_, 1921. + +THE ODYSSEY + + + + +BOOK I + + +THE GODS IN COUNCIL—MINERVA’S VISIT TO ITHACA—THE CHALLENGE FROM +TELEMACHUS TO THE SUITORS. + + +Tell me, O Muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide +after he had sacked the famous town of Troy. Many cities did he visit, +and many were the nations with whose manners and customs he was +acquainted; moreover he suffered much by sea while trying to save his +own life and bring his men safely home; but do what he might he could +not save his men, for they perished through their own sheer folly in +eating the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion; so the god prevented them +from ever reaching home. Tell me, too, about all these things, oh +daughter of Jove, from whatsoever source you may know them. + +So now all who escaped death in battle or by shipwreck had got safely +home except Ulysses, and he, though he was longing to return to his +wife and country, was detained by the goddess Calypso, who had got him +into a large cave and wanted to marry him. But as years went by, there +came a time when the gods settled that he should go back to Ithaca; +even then, however, when he was among his own people, his troubles were +not yet over; nevertheless all the gods had now begun to pity him +except Neptune, who still persecuted him without ceasing and would not +let him get home. + +Now Neptune had gone off to the Ethiopians, who are at the world’s end, +and lie in two halves, the one looking West and the other East.1 He had +gone there to accept a hecatomb of sheep and oxen, and was enjoying +himself at his festival; but the other gods met in the house of +Olympian Jove, and the sire of gods and men spoke first. At that moment +he was thinking of Aegisthus, who had been killed by Agamemnon’s son +Orestes; so he said to the other gods: + +“See now, how men lay blame upon us gods for what is after all nothing +but their own folly. Look at Aegisthus; he must needs make love to +Agamemnon’s wife unrighteously and then kill Agamemnon, though he knew +it would be the death of him; for I sent Mercury to warn him not to do +either of these things, inasmuch as Orestes would be sure to take his +revenge when he grew up and wanted to return home. Mercury told him +this in all good will but he would not listen, and now he has paid for +everything in full.” + +Then Minerva said, “Father, son of Saturn, King of kings, it served +Aegisthus right, and so it would any one else who does as he did; but +Aegisthus is neither here nor there; it is for Ulysses that my heart +bleeds, when I think of his sufferings in that lonely sea-girt island, +far away, poor man, from all his friends. It is an island covered with +forest, in the very middle of the sea, and a goddess lives there, +daughter of the magician Atlas, who looks after the bottom of the +ocean, and carries the great columns that keep heaven and earth +asunder. This daughter of Atlas has got hold of poor unhappy Ulysses, +and keeps trying by every kind of blandishment to make him forget his +home, so that he is tired of life, and thinks of nothing but how he may +once more see the smoke of his own chimneys. You, sir, take no heed of +this, and yet when Ulysses was before Troy did he not propitiate you +with many a burnt sacrifice? Why then should you keep on being so angry +with him?” + +And Jove said, “My child, what are you talking about? How can I forget +Ulysses than whom there is no more capable man on earth, nor more +liberal in his offerings to the immortal gods that live in heaven? Bear +in mind, however, that Neptune is still furious with Ulysses for having +blinded an eye of Polyphemus king of the Cyclopes. Polyphemus is son to +Neptune by the nymph Thoosa, daughter to the sea-king Phorcys; +therefore though he will not kill Ulysses outright, he torments him by +preventing him from getting home. Still, let us lay our heads together +and see how we can help him to return; Neptune will then be pacified, +for if we are all of a mind he can hardly stand out against us.” + +And Minerva said, “Father, son of Saturn, King of kings, if, then, the +gods now mean that Ulysses should get home, we should first send +Mercury to the Ogygian island to tell Calypso that we have made up our +minds and that he is to return. In the meantime I will go to Ithaca, to +put heart into Ulysses’ son Telemachus; I will embolden him to call the +Achaeans in assembly, and speak out to the suitors of his mother +Penelope, who persist in eating up any number of his sheep and oxen; I +will also conduct him to Sparta and to Pylos, to see if he can hear +anything about the return of his dear father—for this will make people +speak well of him.” + +So saying she bound on her glittering golden sandals, imperishable, +with which she can fly like the wind over land or sea; she grasped the +redoubtable bronze-shod spear, so stout and sturdy and strong, +wherewith she quells the ranks of heroes who have displeased her, and +down she darted from the topmost summits of Olympus, whereon forthwith +she was in Ithaca, at the gateway of Ulysses’ house, disguised as a +visitor, Mentes, chief of the Taphians, and she held a bronze spear in +her hand. There she found the lordly suitors seated on hides of the +oxen which they had killed and eaten, and playing draughts in front of +the house. Men-servants and pages were bustling about to wait upon +them, some mixing wine with water in the mixing-bowls, some cleaning +down the tables with wet sponges and laying them out again, and some +cutting up great quantities of meat. + +Telemachus saw her long before any one else did. He was sitting moodily +among the suitors thinking about his brave father, and how he would +send them flying out of the house, if he were to come to his own again +and be honoured as in days gone by. Thus brooding as he sat among them, +he caught sight of Minerva and went straight to the gate, for he was +vexed that a stranger should be kept waiting for admittance. He took +her right hand in his own, and bade her give him her spear. “Welcome,” +said he, “to our house, and when you have partaken of food you shall +tell us what you have come for.” + +He led the way as he spoke, and Minerva followed him. When they were +within he took her spear and set it in the spear-stand against a strong +bearing-post along with the many other spears of his unhappy father, +and he conducted her to a richly decorated seat under which he threw a +cloth of damask. There was a footstool also for her feet,2 and he set +another seat near her for himself, away from the suitors, that she +might not be annoyed while eating by their noise and insolence, and +that he might ask her more freely about his father. + +A maid servant then brought them water in a beautiful golden ewer and +poured it into a silver basin for them to wash their hands, and she +drew a clean table beside them. An upper servant brought them bread, +and offered them many good things of what there was in the house, the +carver fetched them plates of all manner of meats and set cups of gold +by their side, and a manservant brought them wine and poured it out for +them. + + +Then the suitors came in and took their places on the benches and +seats.3 Forthwith men servants poured water over their hands, maids +went round with the bread-baskets, pages filled the mixing-bowls with +wine and water, and they laid their hands upon the good things that +were before them. As soon as they had had enough to eat and drink they +wanted music and dancing, which are the crowning embellishments of a +banquet, so a servant brought a lyre to Phemius, whom they compelled +perforce to sing to them. As soon as he touched his lyre and began to +sing Telemachus spoke low to Minerva, with his head close to hers that +no man might hear. + +“I hope, sir,” said he, “that you will not be offended with what I am +going to say. Singing comes cheap to those who do not pay for it, and +all this is done at the cost of one whose bones lie rotting in some +wilderness or grinding to powder in the surf. If these men were to see +my father come back to Ithaca they would pray for longer legs rather +than a longer purse, for money would not serve them; but he, alas, has +fallen on an ill fate, and even when people do sometimes say that he is +coming, we no longer heed them; we shall never see him again. And now, +sir, tell me and tell me true, who you are and where you come from. +Tell me of your town and parents, what manner of ship you came in, how +your crew brought you to Ithaca, and of what nation they declared +themselves to be—for you cannot have come by land. Tell me also truly, +for I want to know, are you a stranger to this house, or have you been +here in my father’s time? In the old days we had many visitors for my +father went about much himself.” + +And Minerva answered, “I will tell you truly and particularly all about +it. I am Mentes, son of Anchialus, and I am King of the Taphians. I +have come here with my ship and crew, on a voyage to men of a foreign +tongue being bound for Temesa4 with a cargo of iron, and I shall bring +back copper. As for my ship, it lies over yonder off the open country +away from the town, in the harbour Rheithron5 under the wooded mountain +Neritum.6 Our fathers were friends before us, as old Laertes will tell +you, if you will go and ask him. They say, however, that he never comes +to town now, and lives by himself in the country, faring hardly, with +an old woman to look after him and get his dinner for him, when he +comes in tired from pottering about his vineyard. They told me your +father was at home again, and that was why I came, but it seems the +gods are still keeping him back, for he is not dead yet not on the +mainland. It is more likely he is on some sea-girt island in mid ocean, +or a prisoner among savages who are detaining him against his will. I +am no prophet, and know very little about omens, but I speak as it is +borne in upon me from heaven, and assure you that he will not be away +much longer; for he is a man of such resource that even though he were +in chains of iron he would find some means of getting home again. But +tell me, and tell me true, can Ulysses really have such a fine looking +fellow for a son? You are indeed wonderfully like him about the head +and eyes, for we were close friends before he set sail for Troy where +the flower of all the Argives went also. Since that time we have never +either of us seen the other.” + +“My mother,” answered Telemachus, “tells me I am son to Ulysses, but it +is a wise child that knows his own father. Would that I were son to one +who had grown old upon his own estates, for, since you ask me, there is +no more ill-starred man under heaven than he who they tell me is my +father.” + +And Minerva said, “There is no fear of your race dying out yet, while +Penelope has such a fine son as you are. But tell me, and tell me true, +what is the meaning of all this feasting, and who are these people? +What is it all about? Have you some banquet, or is there a wedding in +the family—for no one seems to be bringing any provisions of his own? +And the guests—how atrociously they are behaving; what riot they make +over the whole house; it is enough to disgust any respectable person +who comes near them.” + +“Sir,” said Telemachus, “as regards your question, so long as my father +was here it was well with us and with the house, but the gods in their +displeasure have willed it otherwise, and have hidden him away more +closely than mortal man was ever yet hidden. I could have borne it +better even though he were dead, if he had fallen with his men before +Troy, or had died with friends around him when the days of his fighting +were done; for then the Achaeans would have built a mound over his +ashes, and I should myself have been heir to his renown; but now the +storm-winds have spirited him away we know not whither; he is gone +without leaving so much as a trace behind him, and I inherit nothing +but dismay. Nor does the matter end simply with grief for the loss of +my father; heaven has laid sorrows upon me of yet another kind; for the +chiefs from all our islands, Dulichium, Same, and the woodland island +of Zacynthus, as also all the principal men of Ithaca itself, are +eating up my house under the pretext of paying their court to my +mother, who will neither point blank say that she will not marry,7 nor +yet bring matters to an end; so they are making havoc of my estate, and +before long will do so also with myself.” + +“Is that so?” exclaimed Minerva, “then you do indeed want Ulysses home +again. Give him his helmet, shield, and a couple of lances, and if he +is the man he was when I first knew him in our house, drinking and +making merry, he would soon lay his hands about these rascally suitors, +were he to stand once more upon his own threshold. He was then coming +from Ephyra, where he had been to beg poison for his arrows from Ilus, +son of Mermerus. Ilus feared the ever-living gods and would not give +him any, but my father let him have some, for he was very fond of him. +If Ulysses is the man he then was these suitors will have a short +shrift and a sorry wedding. + +“But there! It rests with heaven to determine whether he is to return, +and take his revenge in his own house or no; I would, however, urge you +to set about trying to get rid of these suitors at once. Take my +advice, call the Achaean heroes in assembly to-morrow morning—lay your +case before them, and call heaven to bear you witness. Bid the suitors +take themselves off, each to his own place, and if your mother’s mind +is set on marrying again, let her go back to her father, who will find +her a husband and provide her with all the marriage gifts that so dear +a daughter may expect. As for yourself, let me prevail upon you to take +the best ship you can get, with a crew of twenty men, and go in quest +of your father who has so long been missing. Some one may tell you +something, or (and people often hear things in this way) some +heaven-sent message may direct you. First go to Pylos and ask Nestor; +thence go on to Sparta and visit Menelaus, for he got home last of all +the Achaeans; if you hear that your father is alive and on his way +home, you can put up with the waste these suitors will make for yet +another twelve months. If on the other hand you hear of his death, come +home at once, celebrate his funeral rites with all due pomp, build a +barrow to his memory, and make your mother marry again. Then, having +done all this, think it well over in your mind how, by fair means or +foul, you may kill these suitors in your own house. You are too old to +plead infancy any longer; have you not heard how people are singing +Orestes’ praises for having killed his father’s murderer Aegisthus? You +are a fine, smart looking fellow; show your mettle, then, and make +yourself a name in story. Now, however, I must go back to my ship and +to my crew, who will be impatient if I keep them waiting longer; think +the matter over for yourself, and remember what I have said to you.” + +“Sir,” answered Telemachus, “it has been very kind of you to talk to me +in this way, as though I were your own son, and I will do all you tell +me; I know you want to be getting on with your voyage, but stay a +little longer till you have taken a bath and refreshed yourself. I will +then give you a present, and you shall go on your way rejoicing; I will +give you one of great beauty and value—a keepsake such as only dear +friends give to one another.” + +Minerva answered, “Do not try to keep me, for I would be on my way at +once. As for any present you may be disposed to make me, keep it till I +come again, and I will take it home with me. You shall give me a very +good one, and I will give you one of no less value in return.” + +With these words she flew away like a bird into the air, but she had +given Telemachus courage, and had made him think more than ever about +his father. He felt the change, wondered at it, and knew that the +stranger had been a god, so he went straight to where the suitors were +sitting. + +Phemius was still singing, and his hearers sat rapt in silence as he +told the sad tale of the return from Troy, and the ills Minerva had +laid upon the Achaeans. Penelope, daughter of Icarius, heard his song +from her room upstairs, and came down by the great staircase, not +alone, but attended by two of her handmaids. When she reached the +suitors she stood by one of the bearing posts that supported the roof +of the cloisters8 with a staid maiden on either side of her. She held a +veil, moreover, before her face, and was weeping bitterly. + +“Phemius,” she cried, “you know many another feat of gods and heroes, +such as poets love to celebrate. Sing the suitors some one of these, +and let them drink their wine in silence, but cease this sad tale, for +it breaks my sorrowful heart, and reminds me of my lost husband whom I +mourn ever without ceasing, and whose name was great over all Hellas +and middle Argos.”9 + +“Mother,” answered Telemachus, “let the bard sing what he has a mind +to; bards do not make the ills they sing of; it is Jove, not they, who +makes them, and who sends weal or woe upon mankind according to his own +good pleasure. This fellow means no harm by singing the ill-fated +return of the Danaans, for people always applaud the latest songs most +warmly. Make up your mind to it and bear it; Ulysses is not the only +man who never came back from Troy, but many another went down as well +as he. Go, then, within the house and busy yourself with your daily +duties, your loom, your distaff, and the ordering of your servants; for +speech is man’s matter, and mine above all others 10—for it is I who am +master here.” + +She went wondering back into the house, and laid her son’s saying in +her heart. Then, going upstairs with her handmaids into her room, she +mourned her dear husband till Minerva shed sweet sleep over her eyes. +But the suitors were clamorous throughout the covered cloisters11, and +prayed each one that he might be her bed fellow. + +Then Telemachus spoke, “Shameless,” he cried, “and insolent suitors, +let us feast at our pleasure now, and let there be no brawling, for it +is a rare thing to hear a man with such a divine voice as Phemius has; +but in the morning meet me in full assembly that I may give you formal +notice to depart, and feast at one another’s houses, turn and turn +about, at your own cost. If on the other hand you choose to persist in +spunging upon one man, heaven help me, but Jove shall reckon with you +in full, and when you fall in my father’s house there shall be no man +to avenge you.” + +The suitors bit their lips as they heard him, and marvelled at the +boldness of his speech. Then, Antinous, son of Eupeithes, said, “The +gods seem to have given you lessons in bluster and tall talking; may +Jove never grant you to be chief in Ithaca as your father was before +you.” + +Telemachus answered, “Antinous, do not chide with me, but, god willing, +I will be chief too if I can. Is this the worst fate you can think of +for me? It is no bad thing to be a chief, for it brings both riches and +honour. Still, now that Ulysses is dead there are many great men in +Ithaca both old and young, and some other may take the lead among them; +nevertheless I will be chief in my own house, and will rule those whom +Ulysses has won for me.” + +Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered, “It rests with heaven to +decide who shall be chief among us, but you shall be master in your own +house and over your own possessions; no one while there is a man in +Ithaca shall do you violence nor rob you. And now, my good fellow, I +want to know about this stranger. What country does he come from? Of +what family is he, and where is his estate? Has he brought you news +about the return of your father, or was he on business of his own? He +seemed a well to do man, but he hurried off so suddenly that he was +gone in a moment before we could get to know him.” + +“My father is dead and gone,” answered Telemachus, “and even if some +rumour reaches me I put no more faith in it now. My mother does indeed +sometimes send for a soothsayer and question him, but I give his +prophecyings no heed. As for the stranger, he was Mentes, son of +Anchialus, chief of the Taphians, an old friend of my father’s.” But in +his heart he knew that it had been the goddess. + +The suitors then returned to their singing and dancing until the +evening; but when night fell upon their pleasuring they went home to +bed each in his own abode.12 Telemachus’s room was high up in a tower13 +that looked on to the outer court; hither, then, he hied, brooding and +full of thought. A good old woman, Euryclea, daughter of Ops, the son +of Pisenor, went before him with a couple of blazing torches. Laertes +had bought her with his own money when she was quite young; he gave the +worth of twenty oxen for her, and shewed as much respect to her in his +household as he did to his own wedded wife, but he did not take her to +his bed for he feared his wife’s resentment.14 She it was who now +lighted Telemachus to his room, and she loved him better than any of +the other women in the house did, for she had nursed him when he was a +baby. He opened the door of his bed room and sat down upon the bed; as +he took off his shirt15 he gave it to the good old woman, who folded it +tidily up, and hung it for him over a peg by his bed side, after which +she went out, pulled the door to by a silver catch, and drew the bolt +home by means of the strap.16 But Telemachus as he lay covered with a +woollen fleece kept thinking all night through of his intended voyage +and of the counsel that Minerva had given him. + + + + +BOOK II + + +ASSEMBLY OF THE PEOPLE OF ITHACA—SPEECHES OF TELEMACHUS AND OF THE +SUITORS—TELEMACHUS MAKES HIS PREPARATIONS AND STARTS FOR PYLOS WITH +MINERVA DISGUISED AS MENTOR. + + +Now when the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared Telemachus +rose and dressed himself. He bound his sandals on to his comely feet, +girded his sword about his shoulder, and left his room looking like an +immortal god. He at once sent the criers round to call the people in +assembly, so they called them and the people gathered thereon; then, +when they were got together, he went to the place of assembly spear in +hand—not alone, for his two hounds went with him. Minerva endowed him +with a presence of such divine comeliness that all marvelled at him as +he went by, and when he took his place in his father’s seat even the +oldest councillors made way for him. + +Aegyptius, a man bent double with age, and of infinite experience, was +the first to speak. His son Antiphus had gone with Ulysses to Ilius, +land of noble steeds, but the savage Cyclops had killed him when they +were all shut up in the cave, and had cooked his last dinner for him.17 +He had three sons left, of whom two still worked on their father’s +land, while the third, Eurynomus, was one of the suitors; nevertheless +their father could not get over the loss of Antiphus, and was still +weeping for him when he began his speech. + +“Men of Ithaca,” he said, “hear my words. From the day Ulysses left us +there has been no meeting of our councillors until now; who then can it +be, whether old or young, that finds it so necessary to convene us? Has +he got wind of some host approaching, and does he wish to warn us, or +would he speak upon some other matter of public moment? I am sure he is +an excellent person, and I hope Jove will grant him his heart’s +desire.” + +Telemachus took this speech as of good omen and rose at once, for he +was bursting with what he had to say. He stood in the middle of the +assembly and the good herald Pisenor brought him his staff. Then, +turning to Aegyptius, “Sir,” said he, “it is I, as you will shortly +learn, who have convened you, for it is I who am the most aggrieved. I +have not got wind of any host approaching about which I would warn you, +nor is there any matter of public moment on which I would speak. My +grievance is purely personal, and turns on two great misfortunes which +have fallen upon my house. The first of these is the loss of my +excellent father, who was chief among all you here present, and was +like a father to every one of you; the second is much more serious, and +ere long will be the utter ruin of my estate. The sons of all the chief +men among you are pestering my mother to marry them against her will. +They are afraid to go to her father Icarius, asking him to choose the +one he likes best, and to provide marriage gifts for his daughter, but +day by day they keep hanging about my father’s house, sacrificing our +oxen, sheep, and fat goats for their banquets, and never giving so much +as a thought to the quantity of wine they drink. No estate can stand +such recklessness; we have now no Ulysses to ward off harm from our +doors, and I cannot hold my own against them. I shall never all my days +be as good a man as he was, still I would indeed defend myself if I had +power to do so, for I cannot stand such treatment any longer; my house +is being disgraced and ruined. Have respect, therefore, to your own +consciences and to public opinion. Fear, too, the wrath of heaven, lest +the gods should be displeased and turn upon you. I pray you by Jove and +Themis, who is the beginning and the end of councils, [do not] hold +back, my friends, and leave me singlehanded18—unless it be that my +brave father Ulysses did some wrong to the Achaeans which you would now +avenge on me, by aiding and abetting these suitors. Moreover, if I am +to be eaten out of house and home at all, I had rather you did the +eating yourselves, for I could then take action against you to some +purpose, and serve you with notices from house to house till I got paid +in full, whereas now I have no remedy.”19 + +With this Telemachus dashed his staff to the ground and burst into +tears. Every one was very sorry for him, but they all sat still and no +one ventured to make him an angry answer, save only Antinous, who spoke +thus: + +“Telemachus, insolent braggart that you are, how dare you try to throw +the blame upon us suitors? It is your mother’s fault not ours, for she +is a very artful woman. This three years past, and close on four, she +had been driving us out of our minds, by encouraging each one of us, +and sending him messages without meaning one word of what she says. And +then there was that other trick she played us. She set up a great +tambour frame in her room, and began to work on an enormous piece of +fine needlework. ‘Sweet hearts,’ said she, ‘Ulysses is indeed dead, +still do not press me to marry again immediately, wait—for I would not +have skill in needlework perish unrecorded—till I have completed a pall +for the hero Laertes, to be in readiness against the time when death +shall take him. He is very rich, and the women of the place will talk +if he is laid out without a pall.’ + +“This was what she said, and we assented; whereon we could see her +working on her great web all day long, but at night she would unpick +the stitches again by torchlight. She fooled us in this way for three +years and we never found her out, but as time wore on and she was now +in her fourth year, one of her maids who knew what she was doing told +us, and we caught her in the act of undoing her work, so she had to +finish it whether she would or no. The suitors, therefore, make you +this answer, that both you and the Achaeans may understand—‘Send your +mother away, and bid her marry the man of her own and of her father’s +choice’; for I do not know what will happen if she goes on plaguing us +much longer with the airs she gives herself on the score of the +accomplishments Minerva has taught her, and because she is so clever. +We never yet heard of such a woman; we know all about Tyro, Alcmena, +Mycene, and the famous women of old, but they were nothing to your +mother any one of them. It was not fair of her to treat us in that way, +and as long as she continues in the mind with which heaven has now +endowed her, so long shall we go on eating up your estate; and I do not +see why she should change, for she gets all the honour and glory, and +it is you who pay for it, not she. Understand, then, that we will not +go back to our lands, neither here nor elsewhere, till she has made her +choice and married some one or other of us.” + +Telemachus answered, “Antinous, how can I drive the mother who bore me +from my father’s house? My father is abroad and we do not know whether +he is alive or dead. It will be hard on me if I have to pay Icarius the +large sum which I must give him if I insist on sending his daughter +back to him. Not only will he deal rigorously with me, but heaven will +also punish me; for my mother when she leaves the house will call on +the Erinyes to avenge her; besides, it would not be a creditable thing +to do, and I will have nothing to say to it. If you choose to take +offence at this, leave the house and feast elsewhere at one another’s +houses at your own cost turn and turn about. If, on the other hand, you +elect to persist in spunging upon one man, heaven help me, but Jove +shall reckon with you in full, and when you fall in my father’s house +there shall be no man to avenge you.” + +As he spoke Jove sent two eagles from the top of the mountain, and they +flew on and on with the wind, sailing side by side in their own lordly +flight. When they were right over the middle of the assembly they +wheeled and circled about, beating the air with their wings and glaring +death into the eyes of them that were below; then, fighting fiercely +and tearing at one another, they flew off towards the right over the +town. The people wondered as they saw them, and asked each other what +all this might be; whereon Halitherses, who was the best prophet and +reader of omens among them, spoke to them plainly and in all honesty, +saying: + +“Hear me, men of Ithaca, and I speak more particularly to the suitors, +for I see mischief brewing for them. Ulysses is not going to be away +much longer; indeed he is close at hand to deal out death and +destruction, not on them alone, but on many another of us who live in +Ithaca. Let us then be wise in time, and put a stop to this wickedness +before he comes. Let the suitors do so of their own accord; it will be +better for them, for I am not prophesying without due knowledge; +everything has happened to Ulysses as I foretold when the Argives set +out for Troy, and he with them. I said that after going through much +hardship and losing all his men he should come home again in the +twentieth year and that no one would know him; and now all this is +coming true.” + +Eurymachus son of Polybus then said, “Go home, old man, and prophesy to +your own children, or it may be worse for them. I can read these omens +myself much better than you can; birds are always flying about in the +sunshine somewhere or other, but they seldom mean anything. Ulysses has +died in a far country, and it is a pity you are not dead along with +him, instead of prating here about omens and adding fuel to the anger +of Telemachus which is fierce enough as it is. I suppose you think he +will give you something for your family, but I tell you—and it shall +surely be—when an old man like you, who should know better, talks a +young one over till he becomes troublesome, in the first place his +young friend will only fare so much the worse—he will take nothing by +it, for the suitors will prevent this—and in the next, we will lay a +heavier fine, sir, upon yourself than you will at all like paying, for +it will bear hardly upon you. As for Telemachus, I warn him in the +presence of you all to send his mother back to her father, who will +find her a husband and provide her with all the marriage gifts so dear +a daughter may expect. Till then we shall go on harassing him with our +suit; for we fear no man, and care neither for him, with all his fine +speeches, nor for any fortune-telling of yours. You may preach as much +as you please, but we shall only hate you the more. We shall go back +and continue to eat up Telemachus’s estate without paying him, till +such time as his mother leaves off tormenting us by keeping us day +after day on the tiptoe of expectation, each vying with the other in +his suit for a prize of such rare perfection. Besides we cannot go +after the other women whom we should marry in due course, but for the +way in which she treats us.” + +Then Telemachus said, “Eurymachus, and you other suitors, I shall say +no more, and entreat you no further, for the gods and the people of +Ithaca now know my story. Give me, then, a ship and a crew of twenty +men to take me hither and thither, and I will go to Sparta and to Pylos +in quest of my father who has so long been missing. Some one may tell +me something, or (and people often hear things in this way) some +heaven-sent message may direct me. If I can hear of him as alive and on +his way home I will put up with the waste you suitors will make for yet +another twelve months. If on the other hand I hear of his death, I will +return at once, celebrate his funeral rites with all due pomp, build a +barrow to his memory, and make my mother marry again.” + +With these words he sat down, and Mentor20 who had been a friend of +Ulysses, and had been left in charge of everything with full authority +over the servants, rose to speak. He, then, plainly and in all honesty +addressed them thus: + +“Hear me, men of Ithaca, I hope that you may never have a kind and +well-disposed ruler any more, nor one who will govern you equitably; I +hope that all your chiefs henceforward may be cruel and unjust, for +there is not one of you but has forgotten Ulysses, who ruled you as +though he were your father. I am not half so angry with the suitors, +for if they choose to do violence in the naughtiness of their hearts, +and wager their heads that Ulysses will not return, they can take the +high hand and eat up his estate, but as for you others I am shocked at +the way in which you all sit still without even trying to stop such +scandalous goings on—which you could do if you chose, for you are many +and they are few.” + +Leiocritus, son of Evenor, answered him saying, “Mentor, what folly is +all this, that you should set the people to stay us? It is a hard thing +for one man to fight with many about his victuals. Even though Ulysses +himself were to set upon us while we are feasting in his house, and do +his best to oust us, his wife, who wants him back so very badly, would +have small cause for rejoicing, and his blood would be upon his own +head if he fought against such great odds. There is no sense in what +you have been saying. Now, therefore, do you people go about your +business, and let his father’s old friends, Mentor and Halitherses, +speed this boy on his journey, if he goes at all—which I do not think +he will, for he is more likely to stay where he is till some one comes +and tells him something.” + +On this he broke up the assembly, and every man went back to his own +abode, while the suitors returned to the house of Ulysses. + +Then Telemachus went all alone by the sea side, washed his hands in the +grey waves, and prayed to Minerva. + +“Hear me,” he cried, “you god who visited me yesterday, and bade me +sail the seas in search of my father who has so long been missing. I +would obey you, but the Achaeans, and more particularly the wicked +suitors, are hindering me that I cannot do so.” + +As he thus prayed, Minerva came close up to him in the likeness and +with the voice of Mentor. “Telemachus,” said she, “if you are made of +the same stuff as your father you will be neither fool nor coward +henceforward, for Ulysses never broke his word nor left his work half +done. If, then, you take after him, your voyage will not be fruitless, +but unless you have the blood of Ulysses and of Penelope in your veins +I see no likelihood of your succeeding. Sons are seldom as good men as +their fathers; they are generally worse, not better; still, as you are +not going to be either fool or coward henceforward, and are not +entirely without some share of your father’s wise discernment, I look +with hope upon your undertaking. But mind you never make common cause +with any of those foolish suitors, for they have neither sense nor +virtue, and give no thought to death and to the doom that will shortly +fall on one and all of them, so that they shall perish on the same day. +As for your voyage, it shall not be long delayed; your father was such +an old friend of mine that I will find you a ship, and will come with +you myself. Now, however, return home, and go about among the suitors; +begin getting provisions ready for your voyage; see everything well +stowed, the wine in jars, and the barley meal, which is the staff of +life, in leathern bags, while I go round the town and beat up +volunteers at once. There are many ships in Ithaca both old and new; I +will run my eye over them for you and will choose the best; we will get +her ready and will put out to sea without delay.” + +Thus spoke Minerva daughter of Jove, and Telemachus lost no time in +doing as the goddess told him. He went moodily home, and found the +suitors flaying goats and singeing pigs in the outer court. Antinous +came up to him at once and laughed as he took his hand in his own, +saying, “Telemachus, my fine fire-eater, bear no more ill blood neither +in word nor deed, but eat and drink with us as you used to do. The +Achaeans will find you in everything—a ship and a picked crew to +boot—so that you can set sail for Pylos at once and get news of your +noble father.” + +“Antinous,” answered Telemachus, “I cannot eat in peace, nor take +pleasure of any kind with such men as you are. Was it not enough that +you should waste so much good property of mine while I was yet a boy? +Now that I am older and know more about it, I am also stronger, and +whether here among this people, or by going to Pylos, I will do you all +the harm I can. I shall go, and my going will not be in vain—though, +thanks to you suitors, I have neither ship nor crew of my own, and must +be passenger not captain.” + +As he spoke he snatched his hand from that of Antinous. Meanwhile the +others went on getting dinner ready about the buildings,21 jeering at +him tauntingly as they did so. + +“Telemachus,” said one youngster, “means to be the death of us; I +suppose he thinks he can bring friends to help him from Pylos, or again +from Sparta, where he seems bent on going. Or will he go to Ephyra as +well, for poison to put in our wine and kill us?” + +Another said, “Perhaps if Telemachus goes on board ship, he will be +like his father and perish far from his friends. In this case we should +have plenty to do, for we could then divide up his property amongst us: +as for the house we can let his mother and the man who marries her have +that.” + +This was how they talked. But Telemachus went down into the lofty and +spacious store-room where his father’s treasure of gold and bronze lay +heaped up upon the floor, and where the linen and spare clothes were +kept in open chests. Here, too, there was a store of fragrant olive +oil, while casks of old, well-ripened wine, unblended and fit for a god +to drink, were ranged against the wall in case Ulysses should come home +again after all. The room was closed with well-made doors opening in +the middle; moreover the faithful old house-keeper Euryclea, daughter +of Ops the son of Pisenor, was in charge of everything both night and +day. Telemachus called her to the store-room and said: + +“Nurse, draw me off some of the best wine you have, after what you are +keeping for my father’s own drinking, in case, poor man, he should +escape death, and find his way home again after all. Let me have twelve +jars, and see that they all have lids; also fill me some well-sewn +leathern bags with barley meal—about twenty measures in all. Get these +things put together at once, and say nothing about it. I will take +everything away this evening as soon as my mother has gone upstairs for +the night. I am going to Sparta and to Pylos to see if I can hear +anything about the return of my dear father.” + +When Euryclea heard this she began to cry, and spoke fondly to him, +saying, “My dear child, what ever can have put such notion as that into +your head? Where in the world do you want to go to—you, who are the one +hope of the house? Your poor father is dead and gone in some foreign +country nobody knows where, and as soon as your back is turned these +wicked ones here will be scheming to get you put out of the way, and +will share all your possessions among themselves; stay where you are +among your own people, and do not go wandering and worrying your life +out on the barren ocean.” + +“Fear not, nurse,” answered Telemachus, “my scheme is not without +heaven’s sanction; but swear that you will say nothing about all this +to my mother, till I have been away some ten or twelve days, unless she +hears of my having gone, and asks you; for I do not want her to spoil +her beauty by crying.” + +The old woman swore most solemnly that she would not, and when she had +completed her oath, she began drawing off the wine into jars, and +getting the barley meal into the bags, while Telemachus went back to +the suitors. + +Then Minerva bethought her of another matter. She took his shape, and +went round the town to each one of the crew, telling them to meet at +the ship by sundown. She went also to Noemon son of Phronius, and asked +him to let her have a ship—which he was very ready to do. When the sun +had set and darkness was over all the land, she got the ship into the +water, put all the tackle on board her that ships generally carry, and +stationed her at the end of the harbour. Presently the crew came up, +and the goddess spoke encouragingly to each of them. + +Furthermore she went to the house of Ulysses, and threw the suitors +into a deep slumber. She caused their drink to fuddle them, and made +them drop their cups from their hands, so that instead of sitting over +their wine, they went back into the town to sleep, with their eyes +heavy and full of drowsiness. Then she took the form and voice of +Mentor, and called Telemachus to come outside. + +“Telemachus,” said she, “the men are on board and at their oars, +waiting for you to give your orders, so make haste and let us be off.” + +On this she led the way, while Telemachus followed in her steps. When +they got to the ship they found the crew waiting by the water side, and +Telemachus said, “Now my men, help me to get the stores on board; they +are all put together in the cloister, and my mother does not know +anything about it, nor any of the maid servants except one.” + +With these words he led the way and the others followed after. When +they had brought the things as he told them, Telemachus went on board, +Minerva going before him and taking her seat in the stern of the +vessel, while Telemachus sat beside her. Then the men loosed the +hawsers and took their places on the benches. Minerva sent them a fair +wind from the West,22 that whistled over the deep blue waves23 whereon +Telemachus told them to catch hold of the ropes and hoist sail, and +they did as he told them. They set the mast in its socket in the cross +plank, raised it, and made it fast with the forestays; then they +hoisted their white sails aloft with ropes of twisted ox hide. As the +sail bellied out with the wind, the ship flew through the deep blue +water, and the foam hissed against her bows as she sped onward. Then +they made all fast throughout the ship, filled the mixing bowls to the +brim, and made drink offerings to the immortal gods that are from +everlasting, but more particularly to the grey-eyed daughter of Jove. + +Thus, then, the ship sped on her way through the watches of the night +from dark till dawn. + + + + +BOOK III + + +TELEMACHUS VISITS NESTOR AT PYLOS. + + +but as the sun was rising from the fair sea24 into the firmament of +heaven to shed light on mortals and immortals, they reached Pylos the +city of Neleus. Now the people of Pylos were gathered on the sea shore +to offer sacrifice of black bulls to Neptune lord of the Earthquake. +There were nine guilds with five hundred men in each, and there were +nine bulls to each guild. As they were eating the inward meats25 and +burning the thigh bones [on the embers] in the name of Neptune, +Telemachus and his crew arrived, furled their sails, brought their ship +to anchor, and went ashore. + +Minerva led the way and Telemachus followed her. Presently she said, +“Telemachus, you must not be in the least shy or nervous; you have +taken this voyage to try and find out where your father is buried and +how he came by his end; so go straight up to Nestor that we may see +what he has got to tell us. Beg of him to speak the truth, and he will +tell no lies, for he is an excellent person.” + +“But how, Mentor,” replied Telemachus, “dare I go up to Nestor, and how +am I to address him? I have never yet been used to holding long +conversations with people, and am ashamed to begin questioning one who +is so much older than myself.” + +“Some things, Telemachus,” answered Minerva, “will be suggested to you +by your own instinct, and heaven will prompt you further; for I am +assured that the gods have been with you from the time of your birth +until now.” + +She then went quickly on, and Telemachus followed in her steps till +they reached the place where the guilds of the Pylian people were +assembled. There they found Nestor sitting with his sons, while his +company round him were busy getting dinner ready, and putting pieces of +meat on to the spits26 while other pieces were cooking. When they saw +the strangers they crowded round them, took them by the hand and bade +them take their places. Nestor’s son Pisistratus at once offered his +hand to each of them, and seated them on some soft sheepskins that were +lying on the sands near his father and his brother Thrasymedes. Then he +gave them their portions of the inward meats and poured wine for them +into a golden cup, handing it to Minerva first, and saluting her at the +same time. + +“Offer a prayer, sir,” said he, “to King Neptune, for it is his feast +that you are joining; when you have duly prayed and made your drink +offering, pass the cup to your friend that he may do so also. I doubt +not that he too lifts his hands in prayer, for man cannot live without +God in the world. Still he is younger than you are, and is much of an +age with myself, so I will give you the precedence.” + +As he spoke he handed her the cup. Minerva thought it very right and +proper of him to have given it to herself first;27 she accordingly +began praying heartily to Neptune. “O thou,” she cried, “that +encirclest the earth, vouchsafe to grant the prayers of thy servants +that call upon thee. More especially we pray thee send down thy grace +on Nestor and on his sons; thereafter also make the rest of the Pylian +people some handsome return for the goodly hecatomb they are offering +you. Lastly, grant Telemachus and myself a happy issue, in respect of +the matter that has brought us in our ship to Pylos.” + +When she had thus made an end of praying, she handed the cup to +Telemachus and he prayed likewise. By and by, when the outer meats were +roasted and had been taken off the spits, the carvers gave every man +his portion and they all made an excellent dinner. As soon as they had +had enough to eat and drink, Nestor, knight of Gerene, began to speak. + +“Now,” said he, “that our guests have done their dinner, it will be +best to ask them who they are. Who, then, sir strangers, are you, and +from what port have you sailed? Are you traders? or do you sail the +seas as rovers with your hand against every man, and every man’s hand +against you?” + +Telemachus answered boldly, for Minerva had given him courage to ask +about his father and get himself a good name. + +“Nestor,” said he, “son of Neleus, honour to the Achaean name, you ask +whence we come, and I will tell you. We come from Ithaca under +Neritum,28 and the matter about which I would speak is of private not +public import. I seek news of my unhappy father Ulysses, who is said to +have sacked the town of Troy in company with yourself. We know what +fate befell each one of the other heroes who fought at Troy, but as +regards Ulysses heaven has hidden from us the knowledge even that he is +dead at all, for no one can certify us in what place he perished, nor +say whether he fell in battle on the mainland, or was lost at sea amid +the waves of Amphitrite. Therefore I am suppliant at your knees, if +haply you may be pleased to tell me of his melancholy end, whether you +saw it with your own eyes, or heard it from some other traveller, for +he was a man born to trouble. Do not soften things out of any pity for +me, but tell me in all plainness exactly what you saw. If my brave +father Ulysses ever did you loyal service, either by word or deed, when +you Achaeans were harassed among the Trojans, bear it in mind now as in +my favour and tell me truly all.” + +“My friend,” answered Nestor, “you recall a time of much sorrow to my +mind, for the brave Achaeans suffered much both at sea, while +privateering under Achilles, and when fighting before the great city of +king Priam. Our best men all of them fell there—Ajax, Achilles, +Patroclus peer of gods in counsel, and my own dear son Antilochus, a +man singularly fleet of foot and in fight valiant. But we suffered much +more than this; what mortal tongue indeed could tell the whole story? +Though you were to stay here and question me for five years, or even +six, I could not tell you all that the Achaeans suffered, and you would +turn homeward weary of my tale before it ended. Nine long years did we +try every kind of stratagem, but the hand of heaven was against us; +during all this time there was no one who could compare with your +father in subtlety—if indeed you are his son—I can hardly believe my +eyes—and you talk just like him too—no one would say that people of +such different ages could speak so much alike. He and I never had any +kind of difference from first to last neither in camp nor council, but +in singleness of heart and purpose we advised the Argives how all might +be ordered for the best. + +“When, however, we had sacked the city of Priam, and were setting sail +in our ships as heaven had dispersed us, then Jove saw fit to vex the +Argives on their homeward voyage; for they had not all been either wise +or understanding, and hence many came to a bad end through the +displeasure of Jove’s daughter Minerva, who brought about a quarrel +between the two sons of Atreus. + +“The sons of Atreus called a meeting which was not as it should be, for +it was sunset and the Achaeans were heavy with wine. When they +explained why they had called the people together, it seemed that +Menelaus was for sailing homeward at once, and this displeased +Agamemnon, who thought that we should wait till we had offered +hecatombs to appease the anger of Minerva. Fool that he was, he might +have known that he would not prevail with her, for when the gods have +made up their minds they do not change them lightly. So the two stood +bandying hard words, whereon the Achaeans sprang to their feet with a +cry that rent the air, and were of two minds as to what they should do. + +“That night we rested and nursed our anger, for Jove was hatching +mischief against us. But in the morning some of us drew our ships into +the water and put our goods with our women on board, while the rest, +about half in number, stayed behind with Agamemnon. We—the other +half—embarked and sailed; and the ships went well, for heaven had +smoothed the sea. When we reached Tenedos we offered sacrifices to the +gods, for we were longing to get home; cruel Jove, however, did not yet +mean that we should do so, and raised a second quarrel in the course of +which some among us turned their ships back again, and sailed away +under Ulysses to make their peace with Agamemnon; but I, and all the +ships that were with me pressed forward, for I saw that mischief was +brewing. The son of Tydeus went on also with me, and his crews with +him. Later on Menelaus joined us at Lesbos, and found us making up our +minds about our course—for we did not know whether to go outside Chios +by the island of Psyra, keeping this to our left, or inside Chios, over +against the stormy headland of Mimas. So we asked heaven for a sign, +and were shown one to the effect that we should be soonest out of +danger if we headed our ships across the open sea to Euboea. This we +therefore did, and a fair wind sprang up which gave us a quick passage +during the night to Geraestus,29 where we offered many sacrifices to +Neptune for having helped us so far on our way. Four days later Diomed +and his men stationed their ships in Argos, but I held on for Pylos, +and the wind never fell light from the day when heaven first made it +fair for me. + +“Therefore, my dear young friend, I returned without hearing anything +about the others. I know neither who got home safely nor who were lost +but, as in duty bound, I will give you without reserve the reports that +have reached me since I have been here in my own house. They say the +Myrmidons returned home safely under Achilles’ son Neoptolemus; so also +did the valiant son of Poias, Philoctetes. Idomeneus, again, lost no +men at sea, and all his followers who escaped death in the field got +safe home with him to Crete. No matter how far out of the world you +live, you will have heard of Agamemnon and the bad end he came to at +the hands of Aegisthus—and a fearful reckoning did Aegisthus presently +pay. See what a good thing it is for a man to leave a son behind him to +do as Orestes did, who killed false Aegisthus the murderer of his noble +father. You too, then—for you are a tall smart-looking fellow—show your +mettle and make yourself a name in story.” + +“Nestor son of Neleus,” answered Telemachus, “honour to the Achaean +name, the Achaeans applaud Orestes and his name will live through all +time for he has avenged his father nobly. Would that heaven might grant +me to do like vengeance on the insolence of the wicked suitors, who are +ill treating me and plotting my ruin; but the gods have no such +happiness in store for me and for my father, so we must bear it as best +we may.” + +“My friend,” said Nestor, “now that you remind me, I remember to have +heard that your mother has many suitors, who are ill disposed towards +you and are making havoc of your estate. Do you submit to this tamely, +or are public feeling and the voice of heaven against you? Who knows +but what Ulysses may come back after all, and pay these scoundrels in +full, either single-handed or with a force of Achaeans behind him? If +Minerva were to take as great a liking to you as she did to Ulysses +when we were fighting before Troy (for I never yet saw the gods so +openly fond of any one as Minerva then was of your father), if she +would take as good care of you as she did of him, these wooers would +soon some of them forget their wooing.” + +Telemachus answered, “I can expect nothing of the kind; it would be far +too much to hope for. I dare not let myself think of it. Even though +the gods themselves willed it no such good fortune could befall me.” + +On this Minerva said, “Telemachus, what are you talking about? Heaven +has a long arm if it is minded to save a man; and if it were me, I +should not care how much I suffered before getting home, provided I +could be safe when I was once there. I would rather this, than get home +quickly, and then be killed in my own house as Agamemnon was by the +treachery of Aegisthus and his wife. Still, death is certain, and when +a man’s hour is come, not even the gods can save him, no matter how +fond they are of him.” + +“Mentor,” answered Telemachus, “do not let us talk about it any more. +There is no chance of my father’s ever coming back; the gods have long +since counselled his destruction. There is something else, however, +about which I should like to ask Nestor, for he knows much more than +any one else does. They say he has reigned for three generations so +that it is like talking to an immortal. Tell me, therefore, Nestor, and +tell me true; how did Agamemnon come to die in that way? What was +Menelaus doing? And how came false Aegisthus to kill so far better a +man than himself? Was Menelaus away from Achaean Argos, voyaging +elsewhither among mankind, that Aegisthus took heart and killed +Agamemnon?” + +“I will tell you truly,” answered Nestor, “and indeed you have yourself +divined how it all happened. If Menelaus when he got back from Troy had +found Aegisthus still alive in his house, there would have been no +barrow heaped up for him, not even when he was dead, but he would have +been thrown outside the city to dogs and vultures, and not a woman +would have mourned him, for he had done a deed of great wickedness; but +we were over there, fighting hard at Troy, and Aegisthus, who was +taking his ease quietly in the heart of Argos, cajoled Agamemnon’s wife +Clytemnestra with incessant flattery. + +“At first she would have nothing to do with his wicked scheme, for she +was of a good natural disposition;30 moreover there was a bard with +her, to whom Agamemnon had given strict orders on setting out for Troy, +that he was to keep guard over his wife; but when heaven had counselled +her destruction, Aegisthus carried this bard off to a desert island and +left him there for crows and seagulls to batten upon—after which she +went willingly enough to the house of Aegisthus. Then he offered many +burnt sacrifices to the gods, and decorated many temples with +tapestries and gilding, for he had succeeded far beyond his +expectations. + +“Meanwhile Menelaus and I were on our way home from Troy, on good terms +with one another. When we got to Sunium, which is the point of Athens, +Apollo with his painless shafts killed Phrontis the steersman of +Menelaus’ ship (and never man knew better how to handle a vessel in +rough weather) so that he died then and there with the helm in his +hand, and Menelaus, though very anxious to press forward, had to wait +in order to bury his comrade and give him his due funeral rites. +Presently, when he too could put to sea again, and had sailed on as far +as the Malean heads, Jove counselled evil against him and made it blow +hard till the waves ran mountains high. Here he divided his fleet and +took the one half towards Crete where the Cydonians dwell round about +the waters of the river Iardanus. There is a high headland hereabouts +stretching out into the sea from a place called Gortyn, and all along +this part of the coast as far as Phaestus the sea runs high when there +is a south wind blowing, but after Phaestus the coast is more +protected, for a small headland can make a great shelter. Here this +part of the fleet was driven on to the rocks and wrecked; but the crews +just managed to save themselves. As for the other five ships, they were +taken by winds and seas to Egypt, where Menelaus gathered much gold and +substance among people of an alien speech. Meanwhile Aegisthus here at +home plotted his evil deed. For seven years after he had killed +Agamemnon he ruled in Mycene, and the people were obedient under him, +but in the eighth year Orestes came back from Athens to be his bane, +and killed the murderer of his father. Then he celebrated the funeral +rites of his mother and of false Aegisthus by a banquet to the people +of Argos, and on that very day Menelaus came home,31 with as much +treasure as his ships could carry. + +“Take my advice then, and do not go travelling about for long so far +from home, nor leave your property with such dangerous people in your +house; they will eat up everything you have among them, and you will +have been on a fool’s errand. Still, I should advise you by all means +to go and visit Menelaus, who has lately come off a voyage among such +distant peoples as no man could ever hope to get back from, when the +winds had once carried him so far out of his reckoning; even birds +cannot fly the distance in a twelve-month, so vast and terrible are the +seas that they must cross. Go to him, therefore, by sea, and take your +own men with you; or if you would rather travel by land you can have a +chariot, you can have horses, and here are my sons who can escort you +to Lacedaemon where Menelaus lives. Beg of him to speak the truth, and +he will tell you no lies, for he is an excellent person.” + +As he spoke the sun set and it came on dark, whereon Minerva said, +“Sir, all that you have said is well; now, however, order the tongues +of the victims to be cut, and mix wine that we may make drink-offerings +to Neptune, and the other immortals, and then go to bed, for it is bed +time. People should go away early and not keep late hours at a +religious festival.” + +Thus spoke the daughter of Jove, and they obeyed her saying. Men +servants poured water over the hands of the guests, while pages filled +the mixing-bowls with wine and water, and handed it round after giving +every man his drink offering; then they threw the tongues of the +victims into the fire, and stood up to make their drink offerings. When +they had made their offerings and had drunk each as much as he was +minded, Minerva and Telemachus were for going on board their ship, but +Nestor caught them up at once and stayed them. + +“Heaven and the immortal gods,” he exclaimed, “forbid that you should +leave my house to go on board of a ship. Do you think I am so poor and +short of clothes, or that I have so few cloaks and as to be unable to +find comfortable beds both for myself and for my guests? Let me tell +you I have store both of rugs and cloaks, and shall not permit the son +of my old friend Ulysses to camp down on the deck of a ship—not while I +live—nor yet will my sons after me, but they will keep open house as I +have done.” + +Then Minerva answered, “Sir, you have spoken well, and it will be much +better that Telemachus should do as you have said; he, therefore, shall +return with you and sleep at your house, but I must go back to give +orders to my crew, and keep them in good heart. I am the only older +person among them; the rest are all young men of Telemachus’ own age, +who have taken this voyage out of friendship; so I must return to the +ship and sleep there. Moreover to-morrow I must go to the Cauconians +where I have a large sum of money long owing to me. As for Telemachus, +now that he is your guest, send him to Lacedaemon in a chariot, and let +one of your sons go with him. Be pleased to also provide him with your +best and fleetest horses.” + +When she had thus spoken, she flew away in the form of an eagle, and +all marvelled as they beheld it. Nestor was astonished, and took +Telemachus by the hand. “My friend,” said he, “I see that you are going +to be a great hero some day, since the gods wait upon you thus while +you are still so young. This can have been none other of those who +dwell in heaven than Jove’s redoubtable daughter, the Trito-born, who +shewed such favour towards your brave father among the Argives. Holy +queen,” he continued, “vouchsafe to send down thy grace upon myself, my +good wife, and my children. In return, I will offer you in sacrifice a +broad-browed heifer of a year old, unbroken, and never yet brought by +man under the yoke. I will gild her horns, and will offer her up to you +in sacrifice.” + +Thus did he pray, and Minerva heard his prayer. He then led the way to +his own house, followed by his sons and sons in law. When they had got +there and had taken their places on the benches and seats, he mixed +them a bowl of sweet wine that was eleven years old when the +housekeeper took the lid off the jar that held it. As he mixed the +wine, he prayed much and made drink offerings to Minerva, daughter of +Aegis-bearing Jove. Then, when they had made their drink offerings and +had drunk each as much as he was minded, the others went home to bed +each in his own abode; but Nestor put Telemachus to sleep in the room +that was over the gateway along with Pisistratus, who was the only +unmarried son now left him. As for himself, he slept in an inner room +of the house, with the queen his wife by his side. + +Now when the child of morning rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, Nestor left +his couch and took his seat on the benches of white and polished marble +that stood in front of his house. Here aforetime sat Neleus, peer of +gods in counsel, but he was now dead, and had gone to the house of +Hades; so Nestor sat in his seat sceptre in hand, as guardian of the +public weal. His sons as they left their rooms gathered round him, +Echephron, Stratius, Perseus, Aretus, and Thrasymedes; the sixth son +was Pisistratus, and when Telemachus joined them they made him sit with +them. Nestor then addressed them. + +“My sons,” said he, “make haste to do as I shall bid you. I wish first +and foremost to propitiate the great goddess Minerva, who manifested +herself visibly to me during yesterday’s festivities. Go, then, one or +other of you to the plain, tell the stockman to look me out a heifer, +and come on here with it at once. Another must go to Telemachus’ ship, +and invite all the crew, leaving two men only in charge of the vessel. +Some one else will run and fetch Laerceus the goldsmith to gild the +horns of the heifer. The rest, stay all of you where you are; tell the +maids in the house to prepare an excellent dinner, and to fetch seats, +and logs of wood for a burnt offering. Tell them also to bring me some +clear spring water.” + +On this they hurried off on their several errands. The heifer was +brought in from the plain, and Telemachus’s crew came from the ship; +the goldsmith brought the anvil, hammer, and tongs, with which he +worked his gold, and Minerva herself came to accept the sacrifice. +Nestor gave out the gold, and the smith gilded the horns of the heifer +that the goddess might have pleasure in their beauty. Then Stratius and +Echephron brought her in by the horns; Aretus fetched water from the +house in a ewer that had a flower pattern on it, and in his other hand +he held a basket of barley meal; sturdy Thrasymedes stood by with a +sharp axe, ready to strike the heifer, while Perseus held a bucket. +Then Nestor began with washing his hands and sprinkling the barley +meal, and he offered many a prayer to Minerva as he threw a lock from +the heifer’s head upon the fire. + +When they had done praying and sprinkling the barley meal32 Thrasymedes +dealt his blow, and brought the heifer down with a stroke that cut +through the tendons at the base of her neck, whereon the daughters and +daughters in law of Nestor, and his venerable wife Eurydice (she was +eldest daughter to Clymenus) screamed with delight. Then they lifted +the heifer’s head from off the ground, and Pisistratus cut her throat. +When she had done bleeding and was quite dead, they cut her up. They +cut out the thigh bones all in due course, wrapped them round in two +layers of fat, and set some pieces of raw meat on the top of them; then +Nestor laid them upon the wood fire and poured wine over them, while +the young men stood near him with five-pronged spits in their hands. +When the thighs were burned and they had tasted the inward meats, they +cut the rest of the meat up small, put the pieces on the spits and +toasted them over the fire. + +Meanwhile lovely Polycaste, Nestor’s youngest daughter, washed +Telemachus. When she had washed him and anointed him with oil, she +brought him a fair mantle and shirt,33 and he looked like a god as he +came from the bath and took his seat by the side of Nestor. When the +outer meats were done they drew them off the spits and sat down to +dinner where they were waited upon by some worthy henchmen, who kept +pouring them out their wine in cups of gold. As soon as they had had +enough to eat and drink Nestor said, “Sons, put Telemachus’s horses to +the chariot that he may start at once.” + +Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said, and yoked the +fleet horses to the chariot. The housekeeper packed them up a provision +of bread, wine, and sweet meats fit for the sons of princes. Then +Telemachus got into the chariot, while Pisistratus gathered up the +reins and took his seat beside him. He lashed the horses on and they +flew forward nothing loth into the open country, leaving the high +citadel of Pylos behind them. All that day did they travel, swaying the +yoke upon their necks till the sun went down and darkness was over all +the land. Then they reached Pherae where Diocles lived, who was son to +Ortilochus and grandson to Alpheus. Here they passed the night and +Diocles entertained them hospitably. When the child of morning, +rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, they again yoked their horses and drove +out through the gateway under the echoing gatehouse.34 Pisistratus +lashed the horses on and they flew forward nothing loth; presently they +came to the corn lands of the open country, and in the course of time +completed their journey, so well did their steeds take them.35 + +Now when the sun had set and darkness was over the land, + + + + +BOOK IV + + +THE VISIT TO KING MENELAUS, WHO TELLS HIS STORY—MEANWHILE THE SUITORS +IN ITHACA PLOT AGAINST TELEMACHUS. + + +they reached the low lying city of Lacedaemon, where they drove +straight to the abode of Menelaus36 [and found him in his own house, +feasting with his many clansmen in honour of the wedding of his son, +and also of his daughter, whom he was marrying to the son of that +valiant warrior Achilles. He had given his consent and promised her to +him while he was still at Troy, and now the gods were bringing the +marriage about; so he was sending her with chariots and horses to the +city of the Myrmidons over whom Achilles’ son was reigning. For his +only son he had found a bride from Sparta,37 the daughter of Alector. +This son, Megapenthes, was born to him of a bondwoman, for heaven +vouchsafed Helen no more children after she had borne Hermione, who was +fair as golden Venus herself. + +So the neighbours and kinsmen of Menelaus were feasting and making +merry in his house. There was a bard also to sing to them and play his +lyre, while two tumblers went about performing in the midst of them +when the man struck up with his tune.38 + +Telemachus and the son of Nestor stayed their horses at the gate, +whereon Eteoneus servant to Menelaus came out, and as soon as he saw +them ran hurrying back into the house to tell his Master. He went close +up to him and said, “Menelaus, there are some strangers come here, two +men, who look like sons of Jove. What are we to do? Shall we take their +horses out, or tell them to find friends elsewhere as they best can?” + +Menelaus was very angry and said, “Eteoneus, son of Boethous, you never +used to be a fool, but now you talk like a simpleton. Take their horses +out, of course, and show the strangers in that they may have supper; +you and I have staid often enough at other people’s houses before we +got back here, where heaven grant that we may rest in peace +henceforward.” + +So Eteoneus bustled back and bade the other servants come with him. +They took their sweating steeds from under the yoke, made them fast to +the mangers, and gave them a feed of oats and barley mixed. Then they +leaned the chariot against the end wall of the courtyard, and led the +way into the house. Telemachus and Pisistratus were astonished when +they saw it, for its splendour was as that of the sun and moon; then, +when they had admired everything to their heart’s content, they went +into the bath room and washed themselves. + +When the servants had washed them and anointed them with oil, they +brought them woollen cloaks and shirts, and the two took their seats by +the side of Menelaus. A maid-servant brought them water in a beautiful +golden ewer, and poured it into a silver basin for them to wash their +hands; and she drew a clean table beside them. An upper servant brought +them bread, and offered them many good things of what there was in the +house, while the carver fetched them plates of all manner of meats and +set cups of gold by their side. + +Menelaus then greeted them saying, “Fall to, and welcome; when you have +done supper I shall ask who you are, for the lineage of such men as you +cannot have been lost. You must be descended from a line of +sceptre-bearing kings, for poor people do not have such sons as you +are.” + +On this he handed them39 a piece of fat roast loin, which had been set +near him as being a prime part, and they laid their hands on the good +things that were before them; as soon as they had had enough to eat and +drink, Telemachus said to the son of Nestor, with his head so close +that no one might hear, “Look, Pisistratus, man after my own heart, see +the gleam of bronze and gold—of amber,40 ivory, and silver. Everything +is so splendid that it is like seeing the palace of Olympian Jove. I am +lost in admiration.” + +Menelaus overheard him and said, “No one, my sons, can hold his own +with Jove, for his house and everything about him is immortal; but +among mortal men—well, there may be another who has as much wealth as I +have, or there may not; but at all events I have travelled much and +have undergone much hardship, for it was nearly eight years before I +could get home with my fleet. I went to Cyprus, Phoenicia and the +Egyptians; I went also to the Ethiopians, the Sidonians, and the +Erembians, and to Libya where the lambs have horns as soon as they are +born, and the sheep lamb down three times a year. Every one in that +country, whether master or man, has plenty of cheese, meat, and good +milk, for the ewes yield all the year round. But while I was travelling +and getting great riches among these people, my brother was secretly +and shockingly murdered through the perfidy of his wicked wife, so that +I have no pleasure in being lord of all this wealth. Whoever your +parents may be they must have told you about all this, and of my heavy +loss in the ruin41 of a stately mansion fully and magnificently +furnished. Would that I had only a third of what I now have so that I +had stayed at home, and all those were living who perished on the plain +of Troy, far from Argos. I often grieve, as I sit here in my house, for +one and all of them. At times I cry aloud for sorrow, but presently I +leave off again, for crying is cold comfort and one soon tires of it. +Yet grieve for these as I may, I do so for one man more than for them +all. I cannot even think of him without loathing both food and sleep, +so miserable does he make me, for no one of all the Achaeans worked so +hard or risked so much as he did. He took nothing by it, and has left a +legacy of sorrow to myself, for he has been gone a long time, and we +know not whether he is alive or dead. His old father, his +long-suffering wife Penelope, and his son Telemachus, whom he left +behind him an infant in arms, are plunged in grief on his account.” + +Thus spoke Menelaus, and the heart of Telemachus yearned as he +bethought him of his father. Tears fell from his eyes as he heard him +thus mentioned, so that he held his cloak before his face with both +hands. When Menelaus saw this he doubted whether to let him choose his +own time for speaking, or to ask him at once and find what it was all +about. + +While he was thus in two minds Helen came down from her high vaulted +and perfumed room, looking as lovely as Diana herself. Adraste brought +her a seat, Alcippe a soft woollen rug while Phylo fetched her the +silver work-box which Alcandra wife of Polybus had given her. Polybus +lived in Egyptian Thebes, which is the richest city in the whole world; +he gave Menelaus two baths, both of pure silver, two tripods, and ten +talents of gold; besides all this, his wife gave Helen some beautiful +presents, to wit, a golden distaff, and a silver work box that ran on +wheels, with a gold band round the top of it. Phylo now placed this by +her side, full of fine spun yarn, and a distaff charged with violet +coloured wool was laid upon the top of it. Then Helen took her seat, +put her feet upon the footstool, and began to question her husband.42 + +“Do we know, Menelaus,” said she, “the names of these strangers who +have come to visit us? Shall I guess right or wrong?—but I cannot help +saying what I think. Never yet have I seen either man or woman so like +somebody else (indeed when I look at him I hardly know what to think) +as this young man is like Telemachus, whom Ulysses left as a baby +behind him, when you Achaeans went to Troy with battle in your hearts, +on account of my most shameless self.” + +“My dear wife,” replied Menelaus, “I see the likeness just as you do. +His hands and feet are just like Ulysses; so is his hair, with the +shape of his head and the expression of his eyes. Moreover, when I was +talking about Ulysses, and saying how much he had suffered on my +account, tears fell from his eyes, and he hid his face in his mantle.” + +Then Pisistratus said, “Menelaus, son of Atreus, you are right in +thinking that this young man is Telemachus, but he is very modest, and +is ashamed to come here and begin opening up discourse with one whose +conversation is so divinely interesting as your own. My father, Nestor, +sent me to escort him hither, for he wanted to know whether you could +give him any counsel or suggestion. A son has always trouble at home +when his father has gone away leaving him without supporters; and this +is how Telemachus is now placed, for his father is absent, and there is +no one among his own people to stand by him.” + +“Bless my heart,” replied Menelaus, “then I am receiving a visit from +the son of a very dear friend, who suffered much hardship for my sake. +I had always hoped to entertain him with most marked distinction when +heaven had granted us a safe return from beyond the seas. I should have +founded a city for him in Argos, and built him a house. I should have +made him leave Ithaca with his goods, his son, and all his people, and +should have sacked for them some one of the neighbouring cities that +are subject to me. We should thus have seen one another continually, +and nothing but death could have interrupted so close and happy an +intercourse. I suppose, however, that heaven grudged us such great good +fortune, for it has prevented the poor fellow from ever getting home at +all.” + +Thus did he speak, and his words set them all a weeping. Helen wept, +Telemachus wept, and so did Menelaus, nor could Pisistratus keep his +eyes from filling, when he remembered his dear brother Antilochus whom +the son of bright Dawn had killed. Thereon he said to Menelaus, + +“Sir, my father Nestor, when we used to talk about you at home, told me +you were a person of rare and excellent understanding. If, then, it be +possible, do as I would urge you. I am not fond of crying while I am +getting my supper. Morning will come in due course, and in the forenoon +I care not how much I cry for those that are dead and gone. This is all +we can do for the poor things. We can only shave our heads for them and +wring the tears from our cheeks. I had a brother who died at Troy; he +was by no means the worst man there; you are sure to have known him—his +name was Antilochus; I never set eyes upon him myself, but they say +that he was singularly fleet of foot and in fight valiant.” + +“Your discretion, my friend,” answered Menelaus, “is beyond your years. +It is plain you take after your father. One can soon see when a man is +son to one whom heaven has blessed both as regards wife and +offspring—and it has blessed Nestor from first to last all his days, +giving him a green old age in his own house, with sons about him who +are both well disposed and valiant. We will put an end therefore to all +this weeping, and attend to our supper again. Let water be poured over +our hands. Telemachus and I can talk with one another fully in the +morning.” + +On this Asphalion, one of the servants, poured water over their hands +and they laid their hands on the good things that were before them. + +Then Jove’s daughter Helen bethought her of another matter. She drugged +the wine with an herb that banishes all care, sorrow, and ill humour. +Whoever drinks wine thus drugged cannot shed a single tear all the rest +of the day, not even though his father and mother both of them drop +down dead, or he sees a brother or a son hewn in pieces before his very +eyes. This drug, of such sovereign power and virtue, had been given to +Helen by Polydamna wife of Thon, a woman of Egypt, where there grow all +sorts of herbs, some good to put into the mixing bowl and others +poisonous. Moreover, every one in the whole country is a skilled +physician, for they are of the race of Paeeon. When Helen had put this +drug in the bowl, and had told the servants to serve the wine round, +she said: + +“Menelaus, son of Atreus, and you my good friends, sons of honourable +men (which is as Jove wills, for he is the giver both of good and evil, +and can do what he chooses), feast here as you will, and listen while I +tell you a tale in season. I cannot indeed name every single one of the +exploits of Ulysses, but I can say what he did when he was before Troy, +and you Achaeans were in all sorts of difficulties. He covered himself +with wounds and bruises, dressed himself all in rags, and entered the +enemy’s city looking like a menial or a beggar, and quite different +from what he did when he was among his own people. In this disguise he +entered the city of Troy, and no one said anything to him. I alone +recognised him and began to question him, but he was too cunning for +me. When, however, I had washed and anointed him and had given him +clothes, and after I had sworn a solemn oath not to betray him to the +Trojans till he had got safely back to his own camp and to the ships, +he told me all that the Achaeans meant to do. He killed many Trojans +and got much information before he reached the Argive camp, for all +which things the Trojan women made lamentation, but for my own part I +was glad, for my heart was beginning to yearn after my home, and I was +unhappy about the wrong that Venus had done me in taking me over there, +away from my country, my girl, and my lawful wedded husband, who is +indeed by no means deficient either in person or understanding.” + +Then Menelaus said, “All that you have been saying, my dear wife, is +true. I have travelled much, and have had much to do with heroes, but I +have never seen such another man as Ulysses. What endurance too, and +what courage he displayed within the wooden horse, wherein all the +bravest of the Argives were lying in wait to bring death and +destruction upon the Trojans.43 At that moment you came up to us; some +god who wished well to the Trojans must have set you on to it and you +had Deiphobus with you. Three times did you go all round our hiding +place and pat it; you called our chiefs each by his own name, and +mimicked all our wives—Diomed, Ulysses, and I from our seats inside +heard what a noise you made. Diomed and I could not make up our minds +whether to spring out then and there, or to answer you from inside, but +Ulysses held us all in check, so we sat quite still, all except +Anticlus, who was beginning to answer you, when Ulysses clapped his two +brawny hands over his mouth, and kept them there. It was this that +saved us all, for he muzzled Anticlus till Minerva took you away +again.” + +“How sad,” exclaimed Telemachus, “that all this was of no avail to save +him, nor yet his own iron courage. But now, sir, be pleased to send us +all to bed, that we may lie down and enjoy the blessed boon of sleep.” + +On this Helen told the maid servants to set beds in the room that was +in the gatehouse, and to make them with good red rugs, and spread +coverlets on the top of them with woollen cloaks for the guests to +wear. So the maids went out, carrying a torch, and made the beds, to +which a man-servant presently conducted the strangers. Thus, then, did +Telemachus and Pisistratus sleep there in the forecourt, while the son +of Atreus lay in an inner room with lovely Helen by his side. + +When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, Menelaus rose +and dressed himself. He bound his sandals on to his comely feet, girded +his sword about his shoulders, and left his room looking like an +immortal god. Then, taking a seat near Telemachus he said: + +“And what, Telemachus, has led you to take this long sea voyage to +Lacedaemon? Are you on public, or private business? Tell me all about +it.” + +“I have come, sir,” replied Telemachus, “to see if you can tell me +anything about my father. I am being eaten out of house and home; my +fair estate is being wasted, and my house is full of miscreants who +keep killing great numbers of my sheep and oxen, on the pretence of +paying their addresses to my mother. Therefore, I am suppliant at your +knees if haply you may tell me about my father’s melancholy end, +whether you saw it with your own eyes, or heard it from some other +traveller; for he was a man born to trouble. Do not soften things out +of any pity for myself, but tell me in all plainness exactly what you +saw. If my brave father Ulysses ever did you loyal service either by +word or deed, when you Achaeans were harassed by the Trojans, bear it +in mind now as in my favour and tell me truly all.” + +Menelaus on hearing this was very much shocked. “So,” he exclaimed, +“these cowards would usurp a brave man’s bed? A hind might as well lay +her new born young in the lair of a lion, and then go off to feed in +the forest or in some grassy dell: the lion when he comes back to his +lair will make short work with the pair of them—and so will Ulysses +with these suitors. By father Jove, Minerva, and Apollo, if Ulysses is +still the man that he was when he wrestled with Philomeleides in +Lesbos, and threw him so heavily that all the Achaeans cheered him—if +he is still such and were to come near these suitors, they would have a +short shrift and a sorry wedding. As regards your questions, however, I +will not prevaricate nor deceive you, but will tell you without +concealment all that the old man of the sea told me. + +“I was trying to come on here, but the gods detained me in Egypt, for +my hecatombs had not given them full satisfaction, and the gods are +very strict about having their dues. Now off Egypt, about as far as a +ship can sail in a day with a good stiff breeze behind her, there is an +island called Pharos—it has a good harbour from which vessels can get +out into open sea when they have taken in water—and here the gods +becalmed me twenty days without so much as a breath of fair wind to +help me forward. We should have run clean out of provisions and my men +would have starved, if a goddess had not taken pity upon me and saved +me in the person of Idothea, daughter to Proteus, the old man of the +sea, for she had taken a great fancy to me. + +“She came to me one day when I was by myself, as I often was, for the +men used to go with their barbed hooks, all over the island in the hope +of catching a fish or two to save them from the pangs of hunger. +‘Stranger,’ said she, ‘it seems to me that you like starving in this +way—at any rate it does not greatly trouble you, for you stick here day +after day, without even trying to get away though your men are dying by +inches.’ + +“‘Let me tell you,’ said I, ‘whichever of the goddesses you may happen +to be, that I am not staying here of my own accord, but must have +offended the gods that live in heaven. Tell me, therefore, for the gods +know everything, which of the immortals it is that is hindering me in +this way, and tell me also how I may sail the sea so as to reach my +home.’ + +“‘Stranger,’ replied she, ‘I will make it all quite clear to you. There +is an old immortal who lives under the sea hereabouts and whose name is +Proteus. He is an Egyptian, and people say he is my father; he is +Neptune’s head man and knows every inch of ground all over the bottom +of the sea. If you can snare him and hold him tight, he will tell you +about your voyage, what courses you are to take, and how you are to +sail the sea so as to reach your home. He will also tell you, if you so +will, all that has been going on at your house both good and bad, while +you have been away on your long and dangerous journey.’ + +“‘Can you show me,’ said I, ‘some stratagem by means of which I may +catch this old god without his suspecting it and finding me out? For a +god is not easily caught—not by a mortal man.’ + +“‘Stranger,’ said she, ‘I will make it all quite clear to you. About +the time when the sun shall have reached mid heaven, the old man of the +sea comes up from under the waves, heralded by the West wind that furs +the water over his head. As soon as he has come up he lies down, and +goes to sleep in a great sea cave, where the seals—Halosydne’s chickens +as they call them—come up also from the grey sea, and go to sleep in +shoals all round him; and a very strong and fish-like smell do they +bring with them. 44 Early to-morrow morning I will take you to this +place and will lay you in ambush. Pick out, therefore, the three best +men you have in your fleet, and I will tell you all the tricks that the +old man will play you. + +“‘First he will look over all his seals, and count them; then, when he +has seen them and tallied them on his five fingers, he will go to sleep +among them, as a shepherd among his sheep. The moment you see that he +is asleep seize him; put forth all your strength and hold him fast, for +he will do his very utmost to get away from you. He will turn himself +into every kind of creature that goes upon the earth, and will become +also both fire and water; but you must hold him fast and grip him +tighter and tighter, till he begins to talk to you and comes back to +what he was when you saw him go to sleep; then you may slacken your +hold and let him go; and you can ask him which of the gods it is that +is angry with you, and what you must do to reach your home over the +seas.’ + +“Having so said she dived under the waves, whereon I turned back to the +place where my ships were ranged upon the shore; and my heart was +clouded with care as I went along. When I reached my ship we got supper +ready, for night was falling, and camped down upon the beach. + +“When the child of morning rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, I took the +three men on whose prowess of all kinds I could most rely, and went +along by the sea-side, praying heartily to heaven. Meanwhile the +goddess fetched me up four seal skins from the bottom of the sea, all +of them just skinned, for she meant playing a trick upon her father. +Then she dug four pits for us to lie in, and sat down to wait till we +should come up. When we were close to her, she made us lie down in the +pits one after the other, and threw a seal skin over each of us. Our +ambuscade would have been intolerable, for the stench of the fishy +seals was most distressing45—who would go to bed with a sea monster if +he could help it?—but here, too, the goddess helped us, and thought of +something that gave us great relief, for she put some ambrosia under +each man’s nostrils, which was so fragrant that it killed the smell of +the seals.46 + +“We waited the whole morning and made the best of it, watching the +seals come up in hundreds to bask upon the sea shore, till at noon the +old man of the sea came up too, and when he had found his fat seals he +went over them and counted them. We were among the first he counted, +and he never suspected any guile, but laid himself down to sleep as +soon as he had done counting. Then we rushed upon him with a shout and +seized him; on which he began at once with his old tricks, and changed +himself first into a lion with a great mane; then all of a sudden he +became a dragon, a leopard, a wild boar; the next moment he was running +water, and then again directly he was a tree, but we stuck to him and +never lost hold, till at last the cunning old creature became +distressed, and said, ‘Which of the gods was it, Son of Atreus, that +hatched this plot with you for snaring me and seizing me against my +will? What do you want?’ + +“‘You know that yourself, old man,’ I answered, ‘you will gain nothing +by trying to put me off. It is because I have been kept so long in this +island, and see no sign of my being able to get away. I am losing all +heart; tell me, then, for you gods know everything, which of the +immortals it is that is hindering me, and tell me also how I may sail +the sea so as to reach my home?’ + +“Then,’ he said, ‘if you would finish your voyage and get home quickly, +you must offer sacrifices to Jove and to the rest of the gods before +embarking; for it is decreed that you shall not get back to your +friends, and to your own house, till you have returned to the +heaven-fed stream of Egypt, and offered holy hecatombs to the immortal +gods that reign in heaven. When you have done this they will let you +finish your voyage.’ + +“I was broken hearted when I heard that I must go back all that long +and terrible voyage to Egypt;47 nevertheless, I answered, ‘I will do +all, old man, that you have laid upon me; but now tell me, and tell me +true, whether all the Achaeans whom Nestor and I left behind us when we +set sail from Troy have got home safely, or whether any one of them +came to a bad end either on board his own ship or among his friends +when the days of his fighting were done.’ + +“‘Son of Atreus,’ he answered, ‘why ask me? You had better not know +what I can tell you, for your eyes will surely fill when you have heard +my story. Many of those about whom you ask are dead and gone, but many +still remain, and only two of the chief men among the Achaeans perished +during their return home. As for what happened on the field of +battle—you were there yourself. A third Achaean leader is still at sea, +alive, but hindered from returning. Ajax was wrecked, for Neptune drove +him on to the great rocks of Gyrae; nevertheless, he let him get safe +out of the water, and in spite of all Minerva’s hatred he would have +escaped death, if he had not ruined himself by boasting. He said the +gods could not drown him even though they had tried to do so, and when +Neptune heard this large talk, he seized his trident in his two brawny +hands, and split the rock of Gyrae in two pieces. The base remained +where it was, but the part on which Ajax was sitting fell headlong into +the sea and carried Ajax with it; so he drank salt water and was +drowned. + +“‘Your brother and his ships escaped, for Juno protected him, but when +he was just about to reach the high promontory of Malea, he was caught +by a heavy gale which carried him out to sea again sorely against his +will, and drove him to the foreland where Thyestes used to dwell, but +where Aegisthus was then living. By and by, however, it seemed as +though he was to return safely after all, for the gods backed the wind +into its old quarter and they reached home; whereon Agamemnon kissed +his native soil, and shed tears of joy at finding himself in his own +country. + +“‘Now there was a watchman whom Aegisthus kept always on the watch, and +to whom he had promised two talents of gold. This man had been looking +out for a whole year to make sure that Agamemnon did not give him the +slip and prepare war; when, therefore, this man saw Agamemnon go by, he +went and told Aegisthus, who at once began to lay a plot for him. He +picked twenty of his bravest warriors and placed them in ambuscade on +one side the cloister, while on the opposite side he prepared a +banquet. Then he sent his chariots and horsemen to Agamemnon, and +invited him to the feast, but he meant foul play. He got him there, all +unsuspicious of the doom that was awaiting him, and killed him when the +banquet was over as though he were butchering an ox in the shambles; +not one of Agamemnon’s followers was left alive, nor yet one of +Aegisthus’, but they were all killed there in the cloisters.’ + +“Thus spoke Proteus, and I was broken hearted as I heard him. I sat +down upon the sands and wept; I felt as though I could no longer bear +to live nor look upon the light of the sun. Presently, when I had had +my fill of weeping and writhing upon the ground, the old man of the sea +said, ‘Son of Atreus, do not waste any more time in crying so bitterly; +it can do no manner of good; find your way home as fast as ever you +can, for Aegisthus may be still alive, and even though Orestes has been +beforehand with you in killing him, you may yet come in for his +funeral.’ + +“On this I took comfort in spite of all my sorrow, and said, ‘I know, +then, about these two; tell me, therefore, about the third man of whom +you spoke; is he still alive, but at sea, and unable to get home? or is +he dead? Tell me, no matter how much it may grieve me.’ + +“‘The third man,’ he answered, ‘is Ulysses who dwells in Ithaca. I can +see him in an island sorrowing bitterly in the house of the nymph +Calypso, who is keeping him prisoner, and he cannot reach his home for +he has no ships nor sailors to take him over the sea. As for your own +end, Menelaus, you shall not die in Argos, but the gods will take you +to the Elysian plain, which is at the ends of the world. There +fair-haired Rhadamanthus reigns, and men lead an easier life than any +where else in the world, for in Elysium there falls not rain, nor hail, +nor snow, but Oceanus breathes ever with a West wind that sings softly +from the sea, and gives fresh life to all men. This will happen to you +because you have married Helen, and are Jove’s son-in-law.’ + +“As he spoke he dived under the waves, whereon I turned back to the +ships with my companions, and my heart was clouded with care as I went +along. When we reached the ships we got supper ready, for night was +falling, and camped down upon the beach. When the child of morning, +rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, we drew our ships into the water, and put +our masts and sails within them; then we went on board ourselves, took +our seats on the benches, and smote the grey sea with our oars. I again +stationed my ships in the heaven-fed stream of Egypt, and offered +hecatombs that were full and sufficient. When I had thus appeased +heaven’s anger, I raised a barrow to the memory of Agamemnon that his +name might live for ever, after which I had a quick passage home, for +the gods sent me a fair wind. + +“And now for yourself—stay here some ten or twelve days longer, and I +will then speed you on your way. I will make you a noble present of a +chariot and three horses. I will also give you a beautiful chalice that +so long as you live you may think of me whenever you make a +drink-offering to the immortal gods.” + +“Son of Atreus,” replied Telemachus, “do not press me to stay longer; I +should be contented to remain with you for another twelve months; I +find your conversation so delightful that I should never once wish +myself at home with my parents; but my crew whom I have left at Pylos +are already impatient, and you are detaining me from them. As for any +present you may be disposed to make me, I had rather that it should be +a piece of plate. I will take no horses back with me to Ithaca, but +will leave them to adorn your own stables, for you have much flat +ground in your kingdom where lotus thrives, as also meadow-sweet and +wheat and barley, and oats with their white and spreading ears; whereas +in Ithaca we have neither open fields nor racecourses, and the country +is more fit for goats than horses, and I like it the better for that. +48 None of our islands have much level ground, suitable for horses, and +Ithaca least of all.” + +Menelaus smiled and took Telemachus’s hand within his own. “What you +say,” said he, “shows that you come of good family. I both can, and +will, make this exchange for you, by giving you the finest and most +precious piece of plate in all my house. It is a mixing bowl by +Vulcan’s own hand, of pure silver, except the rim, which is inlaid with +gold. Phaedimus, king of the Sidonians, gave it me in the course of a +visit which I paid him when I returned thither on my homeward journey. +I will make you a present of it.” + +Thus did they converse [and guests kept coming to the king’s house. +They brought sheep and wine, while their wives had put up bread for +them to take with them; so they were busy cooking their dinners in the +courts].49 + +Meanwhile the suitors were throwing discs or aiming with spears at a +mark on the levelled ground in front of Ulysses’ house, and were +behaving with all their old insolence. Antinous and Eurymachus, who +were their ringleaders and much the foremost among them all, were +sitting together when Noemon son of Phronius came up and said to +Antinous, + +“Have we any idea, Antinous, on what day Telemachus returns from Pylos? +He has a ship of mine, and I want it, to cross over to Elis: I have +twelve brood mares there with yearling mule foals by their side not yet +broken in, and I want to bring one of them over here and break him.” + +They were astounded when they heard this, for they had made sure that +Telemachus had not gone to the city of Neleus. They thought he was only +away somewhere on the farms, and was with the sheep, or with the +swineherd; so Antinous said, “When did he go? Tell me truly, and what +young men did he take with him? Were they freemen or his own +bondsmen—for he might manage that too? Tell me also, did you let him +have the ship of your own free will because he asked you, or did he +take it without your leave?” + +“I lent it him,” answered Noemon, “what else could I do when a man of +his position said he was in a difficulty, and asked me to oblige him? I +could not possibly refuse. As for those who went with him they were the +best young men we have, and I saw Mentor go on board as captain—or some +god who was exactly like him. I cannot understand it, for I saw Mentor +here myself yesterday morning, and yet he was then setting out for +Pylos.” + +Noemon then went back to his father’s house, but Antinous and +Eurymachus were very angry. They told the others to leave off playing, +and to come and sit down along with themselves. When they came, +Antinous son of Eupeithes spoke in anger. His heart was black with +rage, and his eyes flashed fire as he said: + +“Good heavens, this voyage of Telemachus is a very serious matter; we +had made sure that it would come to nothing, but the young fellow has +got away in spite of us, and with a picked crew too. He will be giving +us trouble presently; may Jove take him before he is full grown. Find +me a ship, therefore, with a crew of twenty men, and I will lie in wait +for him in the straits between Ithaca and Samos; he will then rue the +day that he set out to try and get news of his father.” + +Thus did he speak, and the others applauded his saying; they then all +of them went inside the buildings. + +It was not long ere Penelope came to know what the suitors were +plotting; for a man servant, Medon, overheard them from outside the +outer court as they were laying their schemes within, and went to tell +his mistress. As he crossed the threshold of her room Penelope said: +“Medon, what have the suitors sent you here for? Is it to tell the +maids to leave their master’s business and cook dinner for them? I wish +they may neither woo nor dine henceforward, neither here nor anywhere +else, but let this be the very last time, for the waste you all make of +my son’s estate. Did not your fathers tell you when you were children, +how good Ulysses had been to them—never doing anything high-handed, nor +speaking harshly to anybody? Kings may say things sometimes, and they +may take a fancy to one man and dislike another, but Ulysses never did +an unjust thing by anybody—which shows what bad hearts you have, and +that there is no such thing as gratitude left in this world.” + +Then Medon said, “I wish, Madam, that this were all; but they are +plotting something much more dreadful now—may heaven frustrate their +design. They are going to try and murder Telemachus as he is coming +home from Pylos and Lacedaemon, where he has been to get news of his +father.” + +Then Penelope’s heart sank within her, and for a long time she was +speechless; her eyes filled with tears, and she could find no +utterance. At last, however, she said, “Why did my son leave me? What +business had he to go sailing off in ships that make long voyages over +the ocean like sea-horses? Does he want to die without leaving any one +behind him to keep up his name?” + +“I do not know,” answered Medon, “whether some god set him on to it, or +whether he went on his own impulse to see if he could find out if his +father was dead, or alive and on his way home.” + +Then he went downstairs again, leaving Penelope in an agony of grief. +There were plenty of seats in the house, but she had no heart for +sitting on any one of them; she could only fling herself on the floor +of her own room and cry; whereon all the maids in the house, both old +and young, gathered round her and began to cry too, till at last in a +transport of sorrow she exclaimed, + +“My dears, heaven has been pleased to try me with more affliction than +any other woman of my age and country. First I lost my brave and +lion-hearted husband, who had every good quality under heaven, and +whose name was great over all Hellas and middle Argos, and now my +darling son is at the mercy of the winds and waves, without my having +heard one word about his leaving home. You hussies, there was not one +of you would so much as think of giving me a call out of my bed, though +you all of you very well knew when he was starting. If I had known he +meant taking this voyage, he would have had to give it up, no matter +how much he was bent upon it, or leave me a corpse behind him—one or +other. Now, however, go some of you and call old Dolius, who was given +me by my father on my marriage, and who is my gardener. Bid him go at +once and tell everything to Laertes, who may be able to hit on some +plan for enlisting public sympathy on our side, as against those who +are trying to exterminate his own race and that of Ulysses.” + +Then the dear old nurse Euryclea said, “You may kill me, Madam, or let +me live on in your house, whichever you please, but I will tell you the +real truth. I knew all about it, and gave him everything he wanted in +the way of bread and wine, but he made me take my solemn oath that I +would not tell you anything for some ten or twelve days, unless you +asked or happened to hear of his having gone, for he did not want you +to spoil your beauty by crying. And now, Madam, wash your face, change +your dress, and go upstairs with your maids to offer prayers to +Minerva, daughter of Aegis-bearing Jove, for she can save him even +though he be in the jaws of death. Do not trouble Laertes: he has +trouble enough already. Besides, I cannot think that the gods hate the +race of the son of Arceisius so much, but there will be a son left to +come up after him, and inherit both the house and the fair fields that +lie far all round it.” + +With these words she made her mistress leave off crying, and dried the +tears from her eyes. Penelope washed her face, changed her dress, and +went upstairs with her maids. She then put some bruised barley into a +basket and began praying to Minerva. + +“Hear me,” she cried, “Daughter of Aegis-bearing Jove, unweariable. If +ever Ulysses while he was here burned you fat thigh bones of sheep or +heifer, bear it in mind now as in my favour, and save my darling son +from the villainy of the suitors.” + +She cried aloud as she spoke, and the goddess heard her prayer; +meanwhile the suitors were clamorous throughout the covered cloister, +and one of them said: + +“The queen is preparing for her marriage with one or other of us. +Little does she dream that her son has now been doomed to die.” + +This was what they said, but they did not know what was going to +happen. Then Antinous said, “Comrades, let there be no loud talking, +lest some of it get carried inside. Let us be up and do that in +silence, about which we are all of a mind.” + +He then chose twenty men, and they went down to their ship and to the +sea side; they drew the vessel into the water and got her mast and +sails inside her; they bound the oars to the thole-pins with twisted +thongs of leather, all in due course, and spread the white sails aloft, +while their fine servants brought them their armour. Then they made the +ship fast a little way out, came on shore again, got their suppers, and +waited till night should fall. + +But Penelope lay in her own room upstairs unable to eat or drink, and +wondering whether her brave son would escape, or be overpowered by the +wicked suitors. Like a lioness caught in the toils with huntsmen +hemming her in on every side she thought and thought till she sank into +a slumber, and lay on her bed bereft of thought and motion. + +Then Minerva bethought her of another matter, and made a vision in the +likeness of Penelope’s sister Iphthime daughter of Icarius who had +married Eumelus and lived in Pherae. She told the vision to go to the +house of Ulysses, and to make Penelope leave off crying, so it came +into her room by the hole through which the thong went for pulling the +door to, and hovered over her head saying, + +“You are asleep, Penelope: the gods who live at ease will not suffer +you to weep and be so sad. Your son has done them no wrong, so he will +yet come back to you.” + +Penelope, who was sleeping sweetly at the gates of dreamland, answered, +“Sister, why have you come here? You do not come very often, but I +suppose that is because you live such a long way off. Am I, then, to +leave off crying and refrain from all the sad thoughts that torture me? +I, who have lost my brave and lion-hearted husband, who had every good +quality under heaven, and whose name was great over all Hellas and +middle Argos; and now my darling son has gone off on board of a ship—a +foolish fellow who has never been used to roughing it, nor to going +about among gatherings of men. I am even more anxious about him than +about my husband; I am all in a tremble when I think of him, lest +something should happen to him, either from the people among whom he +has gone, or by sea, for he has many enemies who are plotting against +him, and are bent on killing him before he can return home.” + +Then the vision said, “Take heart, and be not so much dismayed. There +is one gone with him whom many a man would be glad enough to have stand +by his side, I mean Minerva; it is she who has compassion upon you, and +who has sent me to bear you this message.” + +“Then,” said Penelope, “if you are a god or have been sent here by +divine commission, tell me also about that other unhappy one—is he +still alive, or is he already dead and in the house of Hades?” + +And the vision said, “I shall not tell you for certain whether he is +alive or dead, and there is no use in idle conversation.” + +Then it vanished through the thong-hole of the door and was dissipated +into thin air; but Penelope rose from her sleep refreshed and +comforted, so vivid had been her dream. + +Meantime the suitors went on board and sailed their ways over the sea, +intent on murdering Telemachus. Now there is a rocky islet called +Asteris, of no great size, in mid channel between Ithaca and Samos, and +there is a harbour on either side of it where a ship can lie. Here then +the Achaeans placed themselves in ambush. + + + + +BOOK V + + +CALYPSO—ULYSSES REACHES SCHERIA ON A RAFT. + + +And now, as Dawn rose from her couch beside Tithonus—harbinger of light +alike to mortals and immortals—the gods met in council and with them, +Jove the lord of thunder, who is their king. Thereon Minerva began to +tell them of the many sufferings of Ulysses, for she pitied him away +there in the house of the nymph Calypso. + +“Father Jove,” said she, “and all you other gods that live in +everlasting bliss, I hope there may never be such a thing as a kind and +well-disposed ruler any more, nor one who will govern equitably. I hope +they will be all henceforth cruel and unjust, for there is not one of +his subjects but has forgotten Ulysses, who ruled them as though he +were their father. There he is, lying in great pain in an island where +dwells the nymph Calypso, who will not let him go; and he cannot get +back to his own country, for he can find neither ships nor sailors to +take him over the sea. Furthermore, wicked people are now trying to +murder his only son Telemachus, who is coming home from Pylos and +Lacedaemon, where he has been to see if he can get news of his father.” + +“What, my dear, are you talking about?” replied her father, “did you +not send him there yourself, because you thought it would help Ulysses +to get home and punish the suitors? Besides, you are perfectly able to +protect Telemachus, and to see him safely home again, while the suitors +have to come hurry-skurrying back without having killed him.” + +When he had thus spoken, he said to his son Mercury, “Mercury, you are +our messenger, go therefore and tell Calypso we have decreed that poor +Ulysses is to return home. He is to be convoyed neither by gods nor +men, but after a perilous voyage of twenty days upon a raft he is to +reach fertile Scheria,50 the land of the Phaeacians, who are near of +kin to the gods, and will honour him as though he were one of +ourselves. They will send him in a ship to his own country, and will +give him more bronze and gold and raiment than he would have brought +back from Troy, if he had had all his prize money and had got home +without disaster. This is how we have settled that he shall return to +his country and his friends.” + +Thus he spoke, and Mercury, guide and guardian, slayer of Argus, did as +he was told. Forthwith he bound on his glittering golden sandals with +which he could fly like the wind over land and sea. He took the wand +with which he seals men’s eyes in sleep or wakes them just as he +pleases, and flew holding it in his hand over Pieria; then he swooped +down through the firmament till he reached the level of the sea, whose +waves he skimmed like a cormorant that flies fishing every hole and +corner of the ocean, and drenching its thick plumage in the spray. He +flew and flew over many a weary wave, but when at last he got to the +island which was his journey’s end, he left the sea and went on by land +till he came to the cave where the nymph Calypso lived. + +He found her at home. There was a large fire burning on the hearth, and +one could smell from far the fragrant reek of burning cedar and sandal +wood. As for herself, she was busy at her loom, shooting her golden +shuttle through the warp and singing beautifully. Round her cave there +was a thick wood of alder, poplar, and sweet smelling cypress trees, +wherein all kinds of great birds had built their nests—owls, hawks, and +chattering sea-crows that occupy their business in the waters. A vine +loaded with grapes was trained and grew luxuriantly about the mouth of +the cave; there were also four running rills of water in channels cut +pretty close together, and turned hither and thither so as to irrigate +the beds of violets and luscious herbage over which they flowed. 51 +Even a god could not help being charmed with such a lovely spot, so +Mercury stood still and looked at it; but when he had admired it +sufficiently he went inside the cave. + +Calypso knew him at once—for the gods all know each other, no matter +how far they live from one another—but Ulysses was not within; he was +on the sea-shore as usual, looking out upon the barren ocean with tears +in his eyes, groaning and breaking his heart for sorrow. Calypso gave +Mercury a seat and said: “Why have you come to see me, +Mercury—honoured, and ever welcome—for you do not visit me often? Say +what you want; I will do it for you at once if I can, and if it can be +done at all; but come inside, and let me set refreshment before you.” + +As she spoke she drew a table loaded with ambrosia beside him and mixed +him some red nectar, so Mercury ate and drank till he had had enough, +and then said: + +“We are speaking god and goddess to one another, and you ask me why I +have come here, and I will tell you truly as you would have me do. Jove +sent me; it was no doing of mine; who could possibly want to come all +this way over the sea where there are no cities full of people to offer +me sacrifices or choice hecatombs? Nevertheless I had to come, for none +of us other gods can cross Jove, nor transgress his orders. He says +that you have here the most ill-starred of all those who fought nine +years before the city of King Priam and sailed home in the tenth year +after having sacked it. On their way home they sinned against +Minerva,52 who raised both wind and waves against them, so that all his +brave companions perished, and he alone was carried hither by wind and +tide. Jove says that you are to let this man go at once, for it is +decreed that he shall not perish here, far from his own people, but +shall return to his house and country and see his friends again.” + +Calypso trembled with rage when she heard this, “You gods,” she +exclaimed, “ought to be ashamed of yourselves. You are always jealous +and hate seeing a goddess take a fancy to a mortal man, and live with +him in open matrimony. So when rosy-fingered Dawn made love to Orion, +you precious gods were all of you furious till Diana went and killed +him in Ortygia. So again when Ceres fell in love with Iasion, and +yielded to him in a thrice-ploughed fallow field, Jove came to hear of +it before so very long and killed Iasion with his thunderbolts. And now +you are angry with me too because I have a man here. I found the poor +creature sitting all alone astride of a keel, for Jove had struck his +ship with lightning and sunk it in mid ocean, so that all his crew were +drowned, while he himself was driven by wind and waves on to my island. +I got fond of him and cherished him, and had set my heart on making him +immortal, so that he should never grow old all his days; still I cannot +cross Jove, nor bring his counsels to nothing; therefore, if he insists +upon it, let the man go beyond the seas again; but I cannot send him +anywhere myself for I have neither ships nor men who can take him. +Nevertheless I will readily give him such advice, in all good faith, as +will be likely to bring him safely to his own country.” + +“Then send him away,” said Mercury, “or Jove will be angry with you and +punish you”. + +On this he took his leave, and Calypso went out to look for Ulysses, +for she had heard Jove’s message. She found him sitting upon the beach +with his eyes ever filled with tears, and dying of sheer home sickness; +for he had got tired of Calypso, and though he was forced to sleep with +her in the cave by night, it was she, not he, that would have it so. As +for the day time, he spent it on the rocks and on the sea shore, +weeping, crying aloud for his despair, and always looking out upon the +sea. Calypso then went close up to him said: + +“My poor fellow, you shall not stay here grieving and fretting your +life out any longer. I am going to send you away of my own free will; +so go, cut some beams of wood, and make yourself a large raft with an +upper deck that it may carry you safely over the sea. I will put bread, +wine, and water on board to save you from starving. I will also give +you clothes, and will send you a fair wind to take you home, if the +gods in heaven so will it—for they know more about these things, and +can settle them better than I can.” + +Ulysses shuddered as he heard her. “Now goddess,” he answered, “there +is something behind all this; you cannot be really meaning to help me +home when you bid me do such a dreadful thing as put to sea on a raft. +Not even a well found ship with a fair wind could venture on such a +distant voyage: nothing that you can say or do shall make me go on +board a raft unless you first solemnly swear that you mean me no +mischief.” + +Calypso smiled at this and caressed him with her hand: “You know a +great deal,” said she, “but you are quite wrong here. May heaven above +and earth below be my witnesses, with the waters of the river Styx—and +this is the most solemn oath which a blessed god can take—that I mean +you no sort of harm, and am only advising you to do exactly what I +should do myself in your place. I am dealing with you quite +straightforwardly; my heart is not made of iron, and I am very sorry +for you.” + +When she had thus spoken she led the way rapidly before him, and +Ulysses followed in her steps; so the pair, goddess and man, went on +and on till they came to Calypso’s cave, where Ulysses took the seat +that Mercury had just left. Calypso set meat and drink before him of +the food that mortals eat; but her maids brought ambrosia and nectar +for herself, and they laid their hands on the good things that were +before them. When they had satisfied themselves with meat and drink, +Calypso spoke, saying: + +“Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, so you would start home to your own +land at once? Good luck go with you, but if you could only know how +much suffering is in store for you before you get back to your own +country, you would stay where you are, keep house along with me, and +let me make you immortal, no matter how anxious you may be to see this +wife of yours, of whom you are thinking all the time day after day; yet +I flatter myself that I am no whit less tall or well-looking than she +is, for it is not to be expected that a mortal woman should compare in +beauty with an immortal.” + +“Goddess,” replied Ulysses, “do not be angry with me about this. I am +quite aware that my wife Penelope is nothing like so tall or so +beautiful as yourself. She is only a woman, whereas you are an +immortal. Nevertheless, I want to get home, and can think of nothing +else. If some god wrecks me when I am on the sea, I will bear it and +make the best of it. I have had infinite trouble both by land and sea +already, so let this go with the rest.” + +Presently the sun set and it became dark, whereon the pair retired into +the inner part of the cave and went to bed. + +When the child of morning rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, Ulysses put on +his shirt and cloak, while the goddess wore a dress of a light gossamer +fabric, very fine and graceful, with a beautiful golden girdle about +her waist and a veil to cover her head. She at once set herself to +think how she could speed Ulysses on his way. So she gave him a great +bronze axe that suited his hands; it was sharpened on both sides, and +had a beautiful olive-wood handle fitted firmly on to it. She also gave +him a sharp adze, and then led the way to the far end of the island +where the largest trees grew—alder, poplar and pine, that reached the +sky—very dry and well seasoned, so as to sail light for him in the +water.53 Then, when she had shown him where the best trees grew, +Calypso went home, leaving him to cut them, which he soon finished +doing. He cut down twenty trees in all and adzed them smooth, squaring +them by rule in good workmanlike fashion. Meanwhile Calypso came back +with some augers, so he bored holes with them and fitted the timbers +together with bolts and rivets. He made the raft as broad as a skilled +shipwright makes the beam of a large vessel, and he fixed a deck on top +of the ribs, and ran a gunwale all round it. He also made a mast with a +yard arm, and a rudder to steer with. He fenced the raft all round with +wicker hurdles as a protection against the waves, and then he threw on +a quantity of wood. By and by Calypso brought him some linen to make +the sails, and he made these too, excellently, making them fast with +braces and sheets. Last of all, with the help of levers, he drew the +raft down into the water. + +In four days he had completed the whole work, and on the fifth Calypso +sent him from the island after washing him and giving him some clean +clothes. She gave him a goat skin full of black wine, and another +larger one of water; she also gave him a wallet full of provisions, and +found him in much good meat. Moreover, she made the wind fair and warm +for him, and gladly did Ulysses spread his sail before it, while he sat +and guided the raft skilfully by means of the rudder. He never closed +his eyes, but kept them fixed on the Pleiads, on late-setting Bootes, +and on the Bear—which men also call the wain, and which turns round and +round where it is, facing Orion, and alone never dipping into the +stream of Oceanus—for Calypso had told him to keep this to his left. +Days seven and ten did he sail over the sea, and on the eighteenth the +dim outlines of the mountains on the nearest part of the Phaeacian +coast appeared, rising like a shield on the horizon. + +But King Neptune, who was returning from the Ethiopians, caught sight +of Ulysses a long way off, from the mountains of the Solymi. He could +see him sailing upon the sea, and it made him very angry, so he wagged +his head and muttered to himself, saying, “Good heavens, so the gods +have been changing their minds about Ulysses while I was away in +Ethiopia, and now he is close to the land of the Phaeacians, where it +is decreed that he shall escape from the calamities that have befallen +him. Still, he shall have plenty of hardship yet before he has done +with it.” + +Thereon he gathered his clouds together, grasped his trident, stirred +it round in the sea, and roused the rage of every wind that blows till +earth, sea, and sky were hidden in cloud, and night sprang forth out of +the heavens. Winds from East, South, North, and West fell upon him all +at the same time, and a tremendous sea got up, so that Ulysses’ heart +began to fail him. “Alas,” he said to himself in his dismay, “what ever +will become of me? I am afraid Calypso was right when she said I should +have trouble by sea before I got back home. It is all coming true. How +black is Jove making heaven with his clouds, and what a sea the winds +are raising from every quarter at once. I am now safe to perish. Blest +and thrice blest were those Danaans who fell before Troy in the cause +of the sons of Atreus. Would that I had been killed on the day when the +Trojans were pressing me so sorely about the dead body of Achilles, for +then I should have had due burial and the Achaeans would have honoured +my name; but now it seems that I shall come to a most pitiable end.” + +As he spoke a sea broke over him with such terrific fury that the raft +reeled again, and he was carried overboard a long way off. He let go +the helm, and the force of the hurricane was so great that it broke the +mast half way up, and both sail and yard went over into the sea. For a +long time Ulysses was under water, and it was all he could do to rise +to the surface again, for the clothes Calypso had given him weighed him +down; but at last he got his head above water and spat out the bitter +brine that was running down his face in streams. In spite of all this, +however, he did not lose sight of his raft, but swam as fast as he +could towards it, got hold of it, and climbed on board again so as to +escape drowning. The sea took the raft and tossed it about as Autumn +winds whirl thistledown round and round upon a road. It was as though +the South, North, East, and West winds were all playing battledore and +shuttlecock with it at once. + +When he was in this plight, Ino daughter of Cadmus, also called +Leucothea, saw him. She had formerly been a mere mortal, but had been +since raised to the rank of a marine goddess. Seeing in what great +distress Ulysses now was, she had compassion upon him, and, rising like +a sea-gull from the waves, took her seat upon the raft. + +“My poor good man,” said she, “why is Neptune so furiously angry with +you? He is giving you a great deal of trouble, but for all his bluster +he will not kill you. You seem to be a sensible person, do then as I +bid you; strip, leave your raft to drive before the wind, and swim to +the Phaeacian coast where better luck awaits you. And here, take my +veil and put it round your chest; it is enchanted, and you can come to +no harm so long as you wear it. As soon as you touch land take it off, +throw it back as far as you can into the sea, and then go away again.” +With these words she took off her veil and gave it him. Then she dived +down again like a sea-gull and vanished beneath the dark blue waters. + +But Ulysses did not know what to think. “Alas,” he said to himself in +his dismay, “this is only some one or other of the gods who is luring +me to ruin by advising me to quit my raft. At any rate I will not do so +at present, for the land where she said I should be quit of all +troubles seemed to be still a good way off. I know what I will do—I am +sure it will be best—no matter what happens I will stick to the raft as +long as her timbers hold together, but when the sea breaks her up I +will swim for it; I do not see how I can do any better than this.” + +While he was thus in two minds, Neptune sent a terrible great wave that +seemed to rear itself above his head till it broke right over the raft, +which then went to pieces as though it were a heap of dry chaff tossed +about by a whirlwind. Ulysses got astride of one plank and rode upon it +as if he were on horseback; he then took off the clothes Calypso had +given him, bound Ino’s veil under his arms, and plunged into the +sea—meaning to swim on shore. King Neptune watched him as he did so, +and wagged his head, muttering to himself and saying, “There now, swim +up and down as you best can till you fall in with well-to-do people. I +do not think you will be able to say that I have let you off too +lightly.” On this he lashed his horses and drove to Aegae where his +palace is. + +But Minerva resolved to help Ulysses, so she bound the ways of all the +winds except one, and made them lie quite still; but she roused a good +stiff breeze from the North that should lay the waters till Ulysses +reached the land of the Phaeacians where he would be safe. + +Thereon he floated about for two nights and two days in the water, with +a heavy swell on the sea and death staring him in the face; but when +the third day broke, the wind fell and there was a dead calm without so +much as a breath of air stirring. As he rose on the swell he looked +eagerly ahead, and could see land quite near. Then, as children rejoice +when their dear father begins to get better after having for a long +time borne sore affliction sent him by some angry spirit, but the gods +deliver him from evil, so was Ulysses thankful when he again saw land +and trees, and swam on with all his strength that he might once more +set foot upon dry ground. When, however, he got within earshot, he +began to hear the surf thundering up against the rocks, for the swell +still broke against them with a terrific roar. Everything was enveloped +in spray; there were no harbours where a ship might ride, nor shelter +of any kind, but only headlands, low-lying rocks, and mountain tops. + +Ulysses’ heart now began to fail him, and he said despairingly to +himself, “Alas, Jove has let me see land after swimming so far that I +had given up all hope, but I can find no landing place, for the coast +is rocky and surf-beaten, the rocks are smooth and rise sheer from the +sea, with deep water close under them so that I cannot climb out for +want of foot hold. I am afraid some great wave will lift me off my legs +and dash me against the rocks as I leave the water—which would give me +a sorry landing. If, on the other hand, I swim further in search of +some shelving beach or harbour, a hurricane may carry me out to sea +again sorely against my will, or heaven may send some great monster of +the deep to attack me; for Amphitrite breeds many such, and I know that +Neptune is very angry with me.” + +While he was thus in two minds a wave caught him and took him with such +force against the rocks that he would have been smashed and torn to +pieces if Minerva had not shown him what to do. He caught hold of the +rock with both hands and clung to it groaning with pain till the wave +retired, so he was saved that time; but presently the wave came on +again and carried him back with it far into the sea—tearing his hands +as the suckers of a polypus are torn when some one plucks it from its +bed, and the stones come up along with it—even so did the rocks tear +the skin from his strong hands, and then the wave drew him deep down +under the water. + +Here poor Ulysses would have certainly perished even in spite of his +own destiny, if Minerva had not helped him to keep his wits about him. +He swam seaward again, beyond reach of the surf that was beating +against the land, and at the same time he kept looking towards the +shore to see if he could find some haven, or a spit that should take +the waves aslant. By and by, as he swam on, he came to the mouth of a +river, and here he thought would be the best place, for there were no +rocks, and it afforded shelter from the wind. He felt that there was a +current, so he prayed inwardly and said: + +“Hear me, O King, whoever you may be, and save me from the anger of the +sea-god Neptune, for I approach you prayerfully. Any one who has lost +his way has at all times a claim even upon the gods, wherefore in my +distress I draw near to your stream, and cling to the knees of your +riverhood. Have mercy upon me, O king, for I declare myself your +suppliant.” + +Then the god staid his stream and stilled the waves, making all calm +before him, and bringing him safely into the mouth of the river. Here +at last Ulysses’ knees and strong hands failed him, for the sea had +completely broken him. His body was all swollen, and his mouth and +nostrils ran down like a river with sea-water, so that he could neither +breathe nor speak, and lay swooning from sheer exhaustion; presently, +when he had got his breath and came to himself again, he took off the +scarf that Ino had given him and threw it back into the salt54 stream +of the river, whereon Ino received it into her hands from the wave that +bore it towards her. Then he left the river, laid himself down among +the rushes, and kissed the bounteous earth. + +“Alas,” he cried to himself in his dismay, “what ever will become of +me, and how is it all to end? If I stay here upon the river bed through +the long watches of the night, I am so exhausted that the bitter cold +and damp may make an end of me—for towards sunrise there will be a keen +wind blowing from off the river. If, on the other hand, I climb the +hill side, find shelter in the woods, and sleep in some thicket, I may +escape the cold and have a good night’s rest, but some savage beast may +take advantage of me and devour me.” + +In the end he deemed it best to take to the woods, and he found one +upon some high ground not far from the water. There he crept beneath +two shoots of olive that grew from a single stock—the one an ungrafted +sucker, while the other had been grafted. No wind, however squally, +could break through the cover they afforded, nor could the sun’s rays +pierce them, nor the rain get through them, so closely did they grow +into one another. Ulysses crept under these and began to make himself a +bed to lie on, for there was a great litter of dead leaves lying +about—enough to make a covering for two or three men even in hard +winter weather. He was glad enough to see this, so he laid himself down +and heaped the leaves all round him. Then, as one who lives alone in +the country, far from any neighbor, hides a brand as fire-seed in the +ashes to save himself from having to get a light elsewhere, even so did +Ulysses cover himself up with leaves; and Minerva shed a sweet sleep +upon his eyes, closed his eyelids, and made him lose all memories of +his sorrows. + + + + +BOOK VI + + +THE MEETING BETWEEN NAUSICAA AND ULYSSES. + + +So here Ulysses slept, overcome by sleep and toil; but Minerva went off +to the country and city of the Phaeacians—a people who used to live in +the fair town of Hypereia, near the lawless Cyclopes. Now the Cyclopes +were stronger than they and plundered them, so their king Nausithous +moved them thence and settled them in Scheria, far from all other +people. He surrounded the city with a wall, built houses and temples, +and divided the lands among his people; but he was dead and gone to the +house of Hades, and King Alcinous, whose counsels were inspired of +heaven, was now reigning. To his house, then, did Minerva hie in +furtherance of the return of Ulysses. + +She went straight to the beautifully decorated bedroom in which there +slept a girl who was as lovely as a goddess, Nausicaa, daughter to King +Alcinous. Two maid servants were sleeping near her, both very pretty, +one on either side of the doorway, which was closed with well made +folding doors. Minerva took the form of the famous sea captain Dymas’s +daughter, who was a bosom friend of Nausicaa and just her own age; +then, coming up to the girl’s bedside like a breath of wind, she +hovered over her head and said: + +“Nausicaa, what can your mother have been about, to have such a lazy +daughter? Here are your clothes all lying in disorder, yet you are +going to be married almost immediately, and should not only be well +dressed yourself, but should find good clothes for those who attend +you. This is the way to get yourself a good name, and to make your +father and mother proud of you. Suppose, then, that we make tomorrow a +washing day, and start at daybreak. I will come and help you so that +you may have everything ready as soon as possible, for all the best +young men among your own people are courting you, and you are not going +to remain a maid much longer. Ask your father, therefore, to have a +waggon and mules ready for us at daybreak, to take the rugs, robes, and +girdles, and you can ride, too, which will be much pleasanter for you +than walking, for the washing-cisterns are some way from the town.” + +When she had said this Minerva went away to Olympus, which they say is +the everlasting home of the gods. Here no wind beats roughly, and +neither rain nor snow can fall; but it abides in everlasting sunshine +and in a great peacefulness of light, wherein the blessed gods are +illumined for ever and ever. This was the place to which the goddess +went when she had given instructions to the girl. + +By and by morning came and woke Nausicaa, who began wondering about her +dream; she therefore went to the other end of the house to tell her +father and mother all about it, and found them in their own room. Her +mother was sitting by the fireside spinning her purple yarn with her +maids around her, and she happened to catch her father just as he was +going out to attend a meeting of the town council, which the Phaeacian +aldermen had convened. She stopped him and said: + +“Papa dear, could you manage to let me have a good big waggon? I want +to take all our dirty clothes to the river and wash them. You are the +chief man here, so it is only right that you should have a clean shirt +when you attend meetings of the council. Moreover, you have five sons +at home, two of them married, while the other three are good looking +bachelors; you know they always like to have clean linen when they go +to a dance, and I have been thinking about all this.” + +She did not say a word about her own wedding, for she did not like to, +but her father knew and said, “You shall have the mules, my love, and +whatever else you have a mind for. Be off with you, and the men shall +get you a good strong waggon with a body to it that will hold all your +clothes.” + +On this he gave his orders to the servants, who got the waggon out, +harnessed the mules, and put them to, while the girl brought the +clothes down from the linen room and placed them on the waggon. Her +mother prepared her a basket of provisions with all sorts of good +things, and a goat skin full of wine; the girl now got into the waggon, +and her mother gave her also a golden cruse of oil, that she and her +women might anoint themselves. Then she took the whip and reins and +lashed the mules on, whereon they set off, and their hoofs clattered on +the road. They pulled without flagging, and carried not only Nausicaa +and her wash of clothes, but the maids also who were with her. + +When they reached the water side they went to the washing cisterns, +through which there ran at all times enough pure water to wash any +quantity of linen, no matter how dirty. Here they unharnessed the mules +and turned them out to feed on the sweet juicy herbage that grew by the +water side. They took the clothes out of the waggon, put them in the +water, and vied with one another in treading them in the pits to get +the dirt out. After they had washed them and got them quite clean, they +laid them out by the sea side, where the waves had raised a high beach +of shingle, and set about washing themselves and anointing themselves +with olive oil. Then they got their dinner by the side of the stream, +and waited for the sun to finish drying the clothes. When they had done +dinner they threw off the veils that covered their heads and began to +play at ball, while Nausicaa sang for them. As the huntress Diana goes +forth upon the mountains of Taygetus or Erymanthus to hunt wild boars +or deer, and the wood nymphs, daughters of Aegis-bearing Jove, take +their sport along with her (then is Leto proud at seeing her daughter +stand a full head taller than the others, and eclipse the loveliest +amid a whole bevy of beauties), even so did the girl outshine her +handmaids. + +When it was time for them to start home, and they were folding the +clothes and putting them into the waggon, Minerva began to consider how +Ulysses should wake up and see the handsome girl who was to conduct him +to the city of the Phaeacians. The girl, therefore, threw a ball at one +of the maids, which missed her and fell into deep water. On this they +all shouted, and the noise they made woke Ulysses, who sat up in his +bed of leaves and began to wonder what it might all be. + +“Alas,” said he to himself, “what kind of people have I come amongst? +Are they cruel, savage, and uncivilised, or hospitable and humane? I +seem to hear the voices of young women, and they sound like those of +the nymphs that haunt mountain tops, or springs of rivers and meadows +of green grass. At any rate I am among a race of men and women. Let me +try if I cannot manage to get a look at them.” + +As he said this he crept from under his bush, and broke off a bough +covered with thick leaves to hide his nakedness. He looked like some +lion of the wilderness that stalks about exulting in his strength and +defying both wind and rain; his eyes glare as he prowls in quest of +oxen, sheep, or deer, for he is famished, and will dare break even into +a well fenced homestead, trying to get at the sheep—even such did +Ulysses seem to the young women, as he drew near to them all naked as +he was, for he was in great want. On seeing one so unkempt and so +begrimed with salt water, the others scampered off along the spits that +jutted out into the sea, but the daughter of Alcinous stood firm, for +Minerva put courage into her heart and took away all fear from her. She +stood right in front of Ulysses, and he doubted whether he should go up +to her, throw himself at her feet, and embrace her knees as a +suppliant, or stay where he was and entreat her to give him some +clothes and show him the way to the town. In the end he deemed it best +to entreat her from a distance in case the girl should take offence at +his coming near enough to clasp her knees, so he addressed her in +honeyed and persuasive language. + +“O queen,” he said, “I implore your aid—but tell me, are you a goddess +or are you a mortal woman? If you are a goddess and dwell in heaven, I +can only conjecture that you are Jove’s daughter Diana, for your face +and figure resemble none but hers; if on the other hand you are a +mortal and live on earth, thrice happy are your father and +mother—thrice happy, too, are your brothers and sisters; how proud and +delighted they must feel when they see so fair a scion as yourself +going out to a dance; most happy, however, of all will he be whose +wedding gifts have been the richest, and who takes you to his own home. +I never yet saw any one so beautiful, neither man nor woman, and am +lost in admiration as I behold you. I can only compare you to a young +palm tree which I saw when I was at Delos growing near the altar of +Apollo—for I was there, too, with much people after me, when I was on +that journey which has been the source of all my troubles. Never yet +did such a young plant shoot out of the ground as that was, and I +admired and wondered at it exactly as I now admire and wonder at +yourself. I dare not clasp your knees, but I am in great distress; +yesterday made the twentieth day that I had been tossing about upon the +sea. The winds and waves have taken me all the way from the Ogygian +island,55 and now fate has flung me upon this coast that I may endure +still further suffering; for I do not think that I have yet come to the +end of it, but rather that heaven has still much evil in store for me. + +“And now, O queen, have pity upon me, for you are the first person I +have met, and I know no one else in this country. Show me the way to +your town, and let me have anything that you may have brought hither to +wrap your clothes in. May heaven grant you in all things your heart’s +desire—husband, house, and a happy, peaceful home; for there is nothing +better in this world than that man and wife should be of one mind in a +house. It discomfits their enemies, makes the hearts of their friends +glad, and they themselves know more about it than any one.” + +To this Nausicaa answered, “Stranger, you appear to be a sensible, +well-disposed person. There is no accounting for luck; Jove gives +prosperity to rich and poor just as he chooses, so you must take what +he has seen fit to send you, and make the best of it. Now, however, +that you have come to this our country, you shall not want for clothes +nor for anything else that a foreigner in distress may reasonably look +for. I will show you the way to the town, and will tell you the name of +our people; we are called Phaeacians, and I am daughter to Alcinous, in +whom the whole power of the state is vested.” + +Then she called her maids and said, “Stay where you are, you girls. Can +you not see a man without running away from him? Do you take him for a +robber or a murderer? Neither he nor any one else can come here to do +us Phaeacians any harm, for we are dear to the gods, and live apart on +a land’s end that juts into the sounding sea, and have nothing to do +with any other people. This is only some poor man who has lost his way, +and we must be kind to him, for strangers and foreigners in distress +are under Jove’s protection, and will take what they can get and be +thankful; so, girls, give the poor fellow something to eat and drink, +and wash him in the stream at some place that is sheltered from the +wind.” + +On this the maids left off running away and began calling one another +back. They made Ulysses sit down in the shelter as Nausicaa had told +them, and brought him a shirt and cloak. They also brought him the +little golden cruse of oil, and told him to go and wash in the stream. +But Ulysses said, “Young women, please to stand a little on one side +that I may wash the brine from my shoulders and anoint myself with oil, +for it is long enough since my skin has had a drop of oil upon it. I +cannot wash as long as you all keep standing there. I am ashamed to +strip56 before a number of good looking young women.” + +Then they stood on one side and went to tell the girl, while Ulysses +washed himself in the stream and scrubbed the brine from his back and +from his broad shoulders. When he had thoroughly washed himself, and +had got the brine out of his hair, he anointed himself with oil, and +put on the clothes which the girl had given him; Minerva then made him +look taller and stronger than before, she also made the hair grow thick +on the top of his head, and flow down in curls like hyacinth blossoms; +she glorified him about the head and shoulders as a skilful workman who +has studied art of all kinds under Vulcan and Minerva enriches a piece +of silver plate by gilding it—and his work is full of beauty. Then he +went and sat down a little way off upon the beach, looking quite young +and handsome, and the girl gazed on him with admiration; then she said +to her maids: + +“Hush, my dears, for I want to say something. I believe the gods who +live in heaven have sent this man to the Phaeacians. When I first saw +him I thought him plain, but now his appearance is like that of the +gods who dwell in heaven. I should like my future husband to be just +such another as he is, if he would only stay here and not want to go +away. However, give him something to eat and drink.” + +They did as they were told, and set food before Ulysses, who ate and +drank ravenously, for it was long since he had had food of any kind. +Meanwhile, Nausicaa bethought her of another matter. She got the linen +folded and placed in the waggon, she then yoked the mules, and, as she +took her seat, she called Ulysses: + +“Stranger,” said she, “rise and let us be going back to the town; I +will introduce you at the house of my excellent father, where I can +tell you that you will meet all the best people among the Phaeacians. +But be sure and do as I bid you, for you seem to be a sensible person. +As long as we are going past the fields and farm lands, follow briskly +behind the waggon along with the maids and I will lead the way myself. +Presently, however, we shall come to the town, where you will find a +high wall running all round it, and a good harbour on either side with +a narrow entrance into the city, and the ships will be drawn up by the +road side, for every one has a place where his own ship can lie. You +will see the market place with a temple of Neptune in the middle of it, +and paved with large stones bedded in the earth. Here people deal in +ship’s gear of all kinds, such as cables and sails, and here, too, are +the places where oars are made, for the Phaeacians are not a nation of +archers; they know nothing about bows and arrows, but are a sea-faring +folk, and pride themselves on their masts, oars, and ships, with which +they travel far over the sea. + +“I am afraid of the gossip and scandal that may be set on foot against +me later on; for the people here are very ill-natured, and some low +fellow, if he met us, might say, ‘Who is this fine-looking stranger +that is going about with Nausicaa? Where did she find him? I suppose +she is going to marry him. Perhaps he is a vagabond sailor whom she has +taken from some foreign vessel, for we have no neighbours; or some god +has at last come down from heaven in answer to her prayers, and she is +going to live with him all the rest of her life. It would be a good +thing if she would take herself off and find a husband somewhere else, +for she will not look at one of the many excellent young Phaeacians who +are in love with her.’ This is the kind of disparaging remark that +would be made about me, and I could not complain, for I should myself +be scandalised at seeing any other girl do the like, and go about with +men in spite of everybody, while her father and mother were still +alive, and without having been married in the face of all the world. + +“If, therefore, you want my father to give you an escort and to help +you home, do as I bid you; you will see a beautiful grove of poplars by +the road side dedicated to Minerva; it has a well in it and a meadow +all round it. Here my father has a field of rich garden ground, about +as far from the town as a man’s voice will carry. Sit down there and +wait for a while till the rest of us can get into the town and reach my +father’s house. Then, when you think we must have done this, come into +the town and ask the way to the house of my father Alcinous. You will +have no difficulty in finding it; any child will point it out to you, +for no one else in the whole town has anything like such a fine house +as he has. When you have got past the gates and through the outer +court, go right across the inner court till you come to my mother. You +will find her sitting by the fire and spinning her purple wool by +firelight. It is a fine sight to see her as she leans back against one +of the bearing-posts with her maids all ranged behind her. Close to her +seat stands that of my father, on which he sits and topes like an +immortal god. Never mind him, but go up to my mother, and lay your +hands upon her knees if you would get home quickly. If you can gain her +over, you may hope to see your own country again, no matter how distant +it may be.” + +So saying she lashed the mules with her whip and they left the river. +The mules drew well, and their hoofs went up and down upon the road. +She was careful not to go too fast for Ulysses and the maids who were +following on foot along with the waggon, so she plied her whip with +judgement. As the sun was going down they came to the sacred grove of +Minerva, and there Ulysses sat down and prayed to the mighty daughter +of Jove. + +“Hear me,” he cried, “daughter of Aegis-bearing Jove, unweariable, hear +me now, for you gave no heed to my prayers when Neptune was wrecking +me. Now, therefore, have pity upon me and grant that I may find friends +and be hospitably received by the Phaeacians.” + +Thus did he pray, and Minerva heard his prayer, but she would not show +herself to him openly, for she was afraid of her uncle Neptune, who was +still furious in his endeavors to prevent Ulysses from getting home. + + + + +BOOK VII + + +RECEPTION OF ULYSSES AT THE PALACE OF KING ALCINOUS. + + +Thus, then, did Ulysses wait and pray; but the girl drove on to the +town. When she reached her father’s house she drew up at the gateway, +and her brothers—comely as the gods—gathered round her, took the mules +out of the waggon, and carried the clothes into the house, while she +went to her own room, where an old servant, Eurymedusa of Apeira, lit +the fire for her. This old woman had been brought by sea from Apeira, +and had been chosen as a prize for Alcinous because he was king over +the Phaeacians, and the people obeyed him as though he were a god.57 +She had been nurse to Nausicaa, and had now lit the fire for her, and +brought her supper for her into her own room. + +Presently Ulysses got up to go towards the town; and Minerva shed a +thick mist all round him to hide him in case any of the proud +Phaeacians who met him should be rude to him, or ask him who he was. +Then, as he was just entering the town, she came towards him in the +likeness of a little girl carrying a pitcher. She stood right in front +of him, and Ulysses said: + +“My dear, will you be so kind as to show me the house of king Alcinous? +I am an unfortunate foreigner in distress, and do not know one in your +town and country.” + +Then Minerva said, “Yes, father stranger, I will show you the house you +want, for Alcinous lives quite close to my own father. I will go before +you and show the way, but say not a word as you go, and do not look at +any man, nor ask him questions; for the people here cannot abide +strangers, and do not like men who come from some other place. They are +a sea-faring folk, and sail the seas by the grace of Neptune in ships +that glide along like thought, or as a bird in the air.” + +On this she led the way, and Ulysses followed in her steps; but not one +of the Phaeacians could see him as he passed through the city in the +midst of them; for the great goddess Minerva in her good will towards +him had hidden him in a thick cloud of darkness. He admired their +harbours, ships, places of assembly, and the lofty walls of the city, +which, with the palisade on top of them, were very striking, and when +they reached the king’s house Minerva said: + +“This is the house, father stranger, which you would have me show you. +You will find a number of great people sitting at table, but do not be +afraid; go straight in, for the bolder a man is the more likely he is +to carry his point, even though he is a stranger. First find the queen. +Her name is Arete, and she comes of the same family as her husband +Alcinous. They both descend originally from Neptune, who was father to +Nausithous by Periboea, a woman of great beauty. Periboea was the +youngest daughter of Eurymedon, who at one time reigned over the +giants, but he ruined his ill-fated people and lost his own life to +boot. + +“Neptune, however, lay with his daughter, and she had a son by him, the +great Nausithous, who reigned over the Phaeacians. Nausithous had two +sons Rhexenor and Alcinous;58 Apollo killed the first of them while he +was still a bridegroom and without male issue; but he left a daughter +Arete, whom Alcinous married, and honours as no other woman is honoured +of all those that keep house along with their husbands. + +“Thus she both was, and still is, respected beyond measure by her +children, by Alcinous himself, and by the whole people, who look upon +her as a goddess, and greet her whenever she goes about the city, for +she is a thoroughly good woman both in head and heart, and when any +women are friends of hers, she will help their husbands also to settle +their disputes. If you can gain her good will, you may have every hope +of seeing your friends again, and getting safely back to your home and +country.” + +Then Minerva left Scheria and went away over the sea. She went to +Marathon59 and to the spacious streets of Athens, where she entered the +abode of Erechtheus; but Ulysses went on to the house of Alcinous, and +he pondered much as he paused a while before reaching the threshold of +bronze, for the splendour of the palace was like that of the sun or +moon. The walls on either side were of bronze from end to end, and the +cornice was of blue enamel. The doors were gold, and hung on pillars of +silver that rose from a floor of bronze, while the lintel was silver +and the hook of the door was of gold. + +On either side there stood gold and silver mastiffs which Vulcan, with +his consummate skill, had fashioned expressly to keep watch over the +palace of king Alcinous; so they were immortal and could never grow +old. Seats were ranged all along the wall, here and there from one end +to the other, with coverings of fine woven work which the women of the +house had made. Here the chief persons of the Phaeacians used to sit +and eat and drink, for there was abundance at all seasons; and there +were golden figures of young men with lighted torches in their hands, +raised on pedestals, to give light by night to those who were at table. +There are60 fifty maid servants in the house, some of whom are always +grinding rich yellow grain at the mill, while others work at the loom, +or sit and spin, and their shuttles go backwards and forwards like the +fluttering of aspen leaves, while the linen is so closely woven that it +will turn oil. As the Phaeacians are the best sailors in the world, so +their women excel all others in weaving, for Minerva has taught them +all manner of useful arts, and they are very intelligent. + +Outside the gate of the outer court there is a large garden of about +four acres with a wall all round it. It is full of beautiful +trees—pears, pomegranates, and the most delicious apples. There are +luscious figs also, and olives in full growth. The fruits never rot nor +fail all the year round, neither winter nor summer, for the air is so +soft that a new crop ripens before the old has dropped. Pear grows on +pear, apple on apple, and fig on fig, and so also with the grapes, for +there is an excellent vineyard: on the level ground of a part of this, +the grapes are being made into raisins; in another part they are being +gathered; some are being trodden in the wine tubs, others further on +have shed their blossom and are beginning to show fruit, others again +are just changing colour. In the furthest part of the ground there are +beautifully arranged beds of flowers that are in bloom all the year +round. Two streams go through it, the one turned in ducts throughout +the whole garden, while the other is carried under the ground of the +outer court to the house itself, and the town’s people draw water from +it. Such, then, were the splendours with which the gods had endowed the +house of king Alcinous. + +So here Ulysses stood for a while and looked about him, but when he had +looked long enough he crossed the threshold and went within the +precincts of the house. There he found all the chief people among the +Phaeacians making their drink offerings to Mercury, which they always +did the last thing before going away for the night.61 He went straight +through the court, still hidden by the cloak of darkness in which +Minerva had enveloped him, till he reached Arete and King Alcinous; +then he laid his hands upon the knees of the queen, and at that moment +the miraculous darkness fell away from him and he became visible. Every +one was speechless with surprise at seeing a man there, but Ulysses +began at once with his petition. + +“Queen Arete,” he exclaimed, “daughter of great Rhexenor, in my +distress I humbly pray you, as also your husband and these your guests +(whom may heaven prosper with long life and happiness, and may they +leave their possessions to their children, and all the honours +conferred upon them by the state) to help me home to my own country as +soon as possible; for I have been long in trouble and away from my +friends.” + +Then he sat down on the hearth among the ashes and they all held their +peace, till presently the old hero Echeneus, who was an excellent +speaker and an elder among the Phaeacians, plainly and in all honesty +addressed them thus: + +“Alcinous,” said he, “it is not creditable to you that a stranger +should be seen sitting among the ashes of your hearth; every one is +waiting to hear what you are about to say; tell him, then, to rise and +take a seat on a stool inlaid with silver, and bid your servants mix +some wine and water that we may make a drink offering to Jove the lord +of thunder, who takes all well disposed suppliants under his +protection; and let the housekeeper give him some supper, of whatever +there may be in the house.” + +When Alcinous heard this he took Ulysses by the hand, raised him from +the hearth, and bade him take the seat of Laodamas, who had been +sitting beside him, and was his favourite son. A maid servant then +brought him water in a beautiful golden ewer and poured it into a +silver basin for him to wash his hands, and she drew a clean table +beside him; an upper servant brought him bread and offered him many +good things of what there was in the house, and Ulysses ate and drank. +Then Alcinous said to one of the servants, “Pontonous, mix a cup of +wine and hand it round that we may make drink-offerings to Jove the +lord of thunder, who is the protector of all well-disposed suppliants.” + +Pontonous then mixed wine and water, and handed it round after giving +every man his drink-offering. When they had made their offerings, and +had drunk each as much as he was minded, Alcinous said: + +“Aldermen and town councillors of the Phaeacians, hear my words. You +have had your supper, so now go home to bed. To-morrow morning I shall +invite a still larger number of aldermen, and will give a sacrificial +banquet in honour of our guest; we can then discuss the question of his +escort, and consider how we may at once send him back rejoicing to his +own country without trouble or inconvenience to himself, no matter how +distant it may be. We must see that he comes to no harm while on his +homeward journey, but when he is once at home he will have to take the +luck he was born with for better or worse like other people. It is +possible, however, that the stranger is one of the immortals who has +come down from heaven to visit us; but in this case the gods are +departing from their usual practice, for hitherto they have made +themselves perfectly clear to us when we have been offering them +hecatombs. They come and sit at our feasts just like one of our selves, +and if any solitary wayfarer happens to stumble upon some one or other +of them, they affect no concealment, for we are as near of kin to the +gods as the Cyclopes and the savage giants are.”62 + +Then Ulysses said: “Pray, Alcinous, do not take any such notion into +your head. I have nothing of the immortal about me, neither in body nor +mind, and most resemble those among you who are the most afflicted. +Indeed, were I to tell you all that heaven has seen fit to lay upon me, +you would say that I was still worse off than they are. Nevertheless, +let me sup in spite of sorrow, for an empty stomach is a very +importunate thing, and thrusts itself on a man’s notice no matter how +dire is his distress. I am in great trouble, yet it insists that I +shall eat and drink, bids me lay aside all memory of my sorrows and +dwell only on the due replenishing of itself. As for yourselves, do as +you propose, and at break of day set about helping me to get home. I +shall be content to die if I may first once more behold my property, my +bondsmen, and all the greatness of my house.”63 + +Thus did he speak. Every one approved his saying, and agreed that he +should have his escort inasmuch as he had spoken reasonably. Then when +they had made their drink offerings, and had drunk each as much as he +was minded they went home to bed every man in his own abode, leaving +Ulysses in the cloister with Arete and Alcinous while the servants were +taking the things away after supper. Arete was the first to speak, for +she recognised the shirt, cloak, and good clothes that Ulysses was +wearing, as the work of herself and of her maids; so she said, +“Stranger, before we go any further, there is a question I should like +to ask you. Who, and whence are you, and who gave you those clothes? +Did you not say you had come here from beyond the sea?” + +And Ulysses answered, “It would be a long story Madam, were I to relate +in full the tale of my misfortunes, for the hand of heaven has been +laid heavy upon me; but as regards your question, there is an island +far away in the sea which is called ‘the Ogygian.’ Here dwells the +cunning and powerful goddess Calypso, daughter of Atlas. She lives by +herself far from all neighbours human or divine. Fortune, however, +brought me to her hearth all desolate and alone, for Jove struck my +ship with his thunderbolts, and broke it up in mid-ocean. My brave +comrades were drowned every man of them, but I stuck to the keel and +was carried hither and thither for the space of nine days, till at last +during the darkness of the tenth night the gods brought me to the +Ogygian island where the great goddess Calypso lives. She took me in +and treated me with the utmost kindness; indeed she wanted to make me +immortal that I might never grow old, but she could not persuade me to +let her do so. + +“I stayed with Calypso seven years straight on end, and watered the +good clothes she gave me with my tears during the whole time; but at +last when the eighth year came round she bade me depart of her own free +will, either because Jove had told her she must, or because she had +changed her mind. She sent me from her island on a raft, which she +provisioned with abundance of bread and wine. Moreover she gave me good +stout clothing, and sent me a wind that blew both warm and fair. Days +seven and ten did I sail over the sea, and on the eighteenth I caught +sight of the first outlines of the mountains upon your coast—and glad +indeed was I to set eyes upon them. Nevertheless there was still much +trouble in store for me, for at this point Neptune would let me go no +further, and raised a great storm against me; the sea was so terribly +high that I could no longer keep to my raft, which went to pieces under +the fury of the gale, and I had to swim for it, till wind and current +brought me to your shores. + +“There I tried to land, but could not, for it was a bad place and the +waves dashed me against the rocks, so I again took to the sea and swam +on till I came to a river that seemed the most likely landing place, +for there were no rocks and it was sheltered from the wind. Here, then, +I got out of the water and gathered my senses together again. Night was +coming on, so I left the river, and went into a thicket, where I +covered myself all over with leaves, and presently heaven sent me off +into a very deep sleep. Sick and sorry as I was I slept among the +leaves all night, and through the next day till afternoon, when I woke +as the sun was westering, and saw your daughter’s maid servants playing +upon the beach, and your daughter among them looking like a goddess. I +besought her aid, and she proved to be of an excellent disposition, +much more so than could be expected from so young a person—for young +people are apt to be thoughtless. She gave me plenty of bread and wine, +and when she had had me washed in the river she also gave me the +clothes in which you see me. Now, therefore, though it has pained me to +do so, I have told you the whole truth.” + +Then Alcinous said, “Stranger, it was very wrong of my daughter not to +bring you on at once to my house along with the maids, seeing that she +was the first person whose aid you asked.” + +“Pray do not scold her,” replied Ulysses; “she is not to blame. She did +tell me to follow along with the maids, but I was ashamed and afraid, +for I thought you might perhaps be displeased if you saw me. Every +human being is sometimes a little suspicious and irritable.” + +“Stranger,” replied Alcinous, “I am not the kind of man to get angry +about nothing; it is always better to be reasonable; but by Father +Jove, Minerva, and Apollo, now that I see what kind of person you are, +and how much you think as I do, I wish you would stay here, marry my +daughter, and become my son-in-law. If you will stay I will give you a +house and an estate, but no one (heaven forbid) shall keep you here +against your own wish, and that you may be sure of this I will attend +tomorrow to the matter of your escort. You can sleep64 during the whole +voyage if you like, and the men shall sail you over smooth waters +either to your own home, or wherever you please, even though it be a +long way further off than Euboea, which those of my people who saw it +when they took yellow-haired Rhadamanthus to see Tityus the son of +Gaia, tell me is the furthest of any place—and yet they did the whole +voyage in a single day without distressing themselves, and came back +again afterwards. You will thus see how much my ships excel all others, +and what magnificent oarsmen my sailors are.” + +Then was Ulysses glad and prayed aloud saying, “Father Jove, grant that +Alcinous may do all as he has said, for so he will win an imperishable +name among mankind, and at the same time I shall return to my country.” + +Thus did they converse. Then Arete told her maids to set a bed in the +room that was in the gatehouse, and make it with good red rugs, and to +spread coverlets on the top of them with woollen cloaks for Ulysses to +wear. The maids thereon went out with torches in their hands, and when +they had made the bed they came up to Ulysses and said, “Rise, sir +stranger, and come with us for your bed is ready,” and glad indeed was +he to go to his rest. + +So Ulysses slept in a bed placed in a room over the echoing gateway; +but Alcinous lay in the inner part of the house, with the queen his +wife by his side. + + + + +BOOK VIII + + +BANQUET IN THE HOUSE OF ALCINOUS—THE GAMES. + + +Now when the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, Alcinous +and Ulysses both rose, and Alcinous led the way to the Phaeacian place +of assembly, which was near the ships. When they got there they sat +down side by side on a seat of polished stone, while Minerva took the +form of one of Alcinous’ servants, and went round the town in order to +help Ulysses to get home. She went up to the citizens, man by man, and +said, “Aldermen and town councillors of the Phaeacians, come to the +assembly all of you and listen to the stranger who has just come off a +long voyage to the house of King Alcinous; he looks like an immortal +god.” + +With these words she made them all want to come, and they flocked to +the assembly till seats and standing room were alike crowded. Every one +was struck with the appearance of Ulysses, for Minerva had beautified +him about the head and shoulders, making him look taller and stouter +than he really was, that he might impress the Phaeacians favourably as +being a very remarkable man, and might come off well in the many trials +of skill to which they would challenge him. Then, when they were got +together, Alcinous spoke: + +“Hear me,” said he, “aldermen and town councillors of the Phaeacians, +that I may speak even as I am minded. This stranger, whoever he may be, +has found his way to my house from somewhere or other either East or +West. He wants an escort and wishes to have the matter settled. Let us +then get one ready for him, as we have done for others before him; +indeed, no one who ever yet came to my house has been able to complain +of me for not speeding on his way soon enough. Let us draw a ship into +the sea—one that has never yet made a voyage—and man her with two and +fifty of our smartest young sailors. Then when you have made fast your +oars each by his own seat, leave the ship and come to my house to +prepare a feast.65 I will find you in everything. I am giving these +instructions to the young men who will form the crew, for as regards +you aldermen and town councillors, you will join me in entertaining our +guest in the cloisters. I can take no excuses, and we will have +Demodocus to sing to us; for there is no bard like him whatever he may +choose to sing about.” + +Alcinous then led the way, and the others followed after, while a +servant went to fetch Demodocus. The fifty-two picked oarsmen went to +the sea shore as they had been told, and when they got there they drew +the ship into the water, got her mast and sails inside her, bound the +oars to the thole-pins with twisted thongs of leather, all in due +course, and spread the white sails aloft. They moored the vessel a +little way out from land, and then came on shore and went to the house +of King Alcinous. The out houses,66 yards, and all the precincts were +filled with crowds of men in great multitudes both old and young; and +Alcinous killed them a dozen sheep, eight full grown pigs, and two +oxen. These they skinned and dressed so as to provide a magnificent +banquet. + +A servant presently led in the famous bard Demodocus, whom the muse had +dearly loved, but to whom she had given both good and evil, for though +she had endowed him with a divine gift of song, she had robbed him of +his eyesight. Pontonous set a seat for him among the guests, leaning it +up against a bearing-post. He hung the lyre for him on a peg over his +head, and showed him where he was to feel for it with his hands. He +also set a fair table with a basket of victuals by his side, and a cup +of wine from which he might drink whenever he was so disposed. + +The company then laid their hands upon the good things that were before +them, but as soon as they had had enough to eat and drink, the muse +inspired Demodocus to sing the feats of heroes, and more especially a +matter that was then in the mouths of all men, to wit, the quarrel +between Ulysses and Achilles, and the fierce words that they heaped on +one another as they sat together at a banquet. But Agamemnon was glad +when he heard his chieftains quarrelling with one another, for Apollo +had foretold him this at Pytho when he crossed the stone floor to +consult the oracle. Here was the beginning of the evil that by the will +of Jove fell both upon Danaans and Trojans. + +Thus sang the bard, but Ulysses drew his purple mantle over his head +and covered his face, for he was ashamed to let the Phaeacians see that +he was weeping. When the bard left off singing he wiped the tears from +his eyes, uncovered his face, and, taking his cup, made a +drink-offering to the gods; but when the Phaeacians pressed Demodocus +to sing further, for they delighted in his lays, then Ulysses again +drew his mantle over his head and wept bitterly. No one noticed his +distress except Alcinous, who was sitting near him, and heard the heavy +sighs that he was heaving. So he at once said, “Aldermen and town +councillors of the Phaeacians, we have had enough now, both of the +feast, and of the minstrelsy that is its due accompaniment; let us +proceed therefore to the athletic sports, so that our guest on his +return home may be able to tell his friends how much we surpass all +other nations as boxers, wrestlers, jumpers, and runners.” + +With these words he led the way, and the others followed after. A +servant hung Demodocus’s lyre on its peg for him, led him out of the +cloister, and set him on the same way as that along which all the chief +men of the Phaeacians were going to see the sports; a crowd of several +thousands of people followed them, and there were many excellent +competitors for all the prizes. Acroneos, Ocyalus, Elatreus, Nauteus, +Prymneus, Anchialus, Eretmeus, Ponteus, Proreus, Thoon, Anabesineus, +and Amphialus son of Polyneus son of Tecton. There was also Euryalus +son of Naubolus, who was like Mars himself, and was the best looking +man among the Phaeacians except Laodamas. Three sons of Alcinous, +Laodamas, Halios, and Clytoneus, competed also. + +The foot races came first. The course was set out for them from the +starting post, and they raised a dust upon the plain as they all flew +forward at the same moment. Clytoneus came in first by a long way; he +left every one else behind him by the length of the furrow that a +couple of mules can plough in a fallow field.67 They then turned to the +painful art of wrestling, and here Euryalus proved to be the best man. +Amphialus excelled all the others in jumping, while at throwing the +disc there was no one who could approach Elatreus. Alcinous’s son +Laodamas was the best boxer, and he it was who presently said, when +they had all been diverted with the games, “Let us ask the stranger +whether he excels in any of these sports; he seems very powerfully +built; his thighs, calves, hands, and neck are of prodigious strength, +nor is he at all old, but he has suffered much lately, and there is +nothing like the sea for making havoc with a man, no matter how strong +he is.” + +“You are quite right, Laodamas,” replied Euryalus, “go up to your guest +and speak to him about it yourself.” + +When Laodamas heard this he made his way into the middle of the crowd +and said to Ulysses, “I hope, Sir, that you will enter yourself for +some one or other of our competitions if you are skilled in any of +them—and you must have gone in for many a one before now. There is +nothing that does any one so much credit all his life long as the +showing himself a proper man with his hands and feet. Have a try +therefore at something, and banish all sorrow from your mind. Your +return home will not be long delayed, for the ship is already drawn +into the water, and the crew is found.” + +Ulysses answered, “Laodamas, why do you taunt me in this way? my mind +is set rather on cares than contests; I have been through infinite +trouble, and am come among you now as a suppliant, praying your king +and people to further me on my return home.” + +Then Euryalus reviled him outright and said, “I gather, then, that you +are unskilled in any of the many sports that men generally delight in. +I suppose you are one of those grasping traders that go about in ships +as captains or merchants, and who think of nothing but of their outward +freights and homeward cargoes. There does not seem to be much of the +athlete about you.” + +“For shame, Sir,” answered Ulysses, fiercely, “you are an insolent +fellow—so true is it that the gods do not grace all men alike in +speech, person, and understanding. One man may be of weak presence, but +heaven has adorned this with such a good conversation that he charms +every one who sees him; his honeyed moderation carries his hearers with +him so that he is leader in all assemblies of his fellows, and wherever +he goes he is looked up to. Another may be as handsome as a god, but +his good looks are not crowned with discretion. This is your case. No +god could make a finer looking fellow than you are, but you are a fool. +Your ill-judged remarks have made me exceedingly angry, and you are +quite mistaken, for I excel in a great many athletic exercises; indeed, +so long as I had youth and strength, I was among the first athletes of +the age. Now, however, I am worn out by labour and sorrow, for I have +gone through much both on the field of battle and by the waves of the +weary sea; still, in spite of all this I will compete, for your taunts +have stung me to the quick.” + +So he hurried up without even taking his cloak off, and seized a disc, +larger, more massive and much heavier than those used by the Phaeacians +when disc-throwing among themselves.68 Then, swinging it back, he threw +it from his brawny hand, and it made a humming sound in the air as he +did so. The Phaeacians quailed beneath the rushing of its flight as it +sped gracefully from his hand, and flew beyond any mark that had been +made yet. Minerva, in the form of a man, came and marked the place +where it had fallen. “A blind man, Sir,” said she, “could easily tell +your mark by groping for it—it is so far ahead of any other. You may +make your mind easy about this contest, for no Phaeacian can come near +to such a throw as yours.” + +Ulysses was glad when he found he had a friend among the lookers-on, so +he began to speak more pleasantly. “Young men,” said he, “come up to +that throw if you can, and I will throw another disc as heavy or even +heavier. If anyone wants to have a bout with me let him come on, for I +am exceedingly angry; I will box, wrestle, or run, I do not care what +it is, with any man of you all except Laodamas, but not with him +because I am his guest, and one cannot compete with one’s own personal +friend. At least I do not think it a prudent or a sensible thing for a +guest to challenge his host’s family at any game, especially when he is +in a foreign country. He will cut the ground from under his own feet if +he does; but I make no exception as regards any one else, for I want to +have the matter out and know which is the best man. I am a good hand at +every kind of athletic sport known among mankind. I am an excellent +archer. In battle I am always the first to bring a man down with my +arrow, no matter how many more are taking aim at him alongside of me. +Philoctetes was the only man who could shoot better than I could when +we Achaeans were before Troy and in practice. I far excel every one +else in the whole world, of those who still eat bread upon the face of +the earth, but I should not like to shoot against the mighty dead, such +as Hercules, or Eurytus the Oechalian—men who could shoot against the +gods themselves. This in fact was how Eurytus came prematurely by his +end, for Apollo was angry with him and killed him because he challenged +him as an archer. I can throw a dart farther than any one else can +shoot an arrow. Running is the only point in respect of which I am +afraid some of the Phaeacians might beat me, for I have been brought +down very low at sea; my provisions ran short, and therefore I am still +weak.” + +They all held their peace except King Alcinous, who began, “Sir, we +have had much pleasure in hearing all that you have told us, from which +I understand that you are willing to show your prowess, as having been +displeased with some insolent remarks that have been made to you by one +of our athletes, and which could never have been uttered by any one who +knows how to talk with propriety. I hope you will apprehend my meaning, +and will explain to any one of your chief men who may be dining with +yourself and your family when you get home, that we have an hereditary +aptitude for accomplishments of all kinds. We are not particularly +remarkable for our boxing, nor yet as wrestlers, but we are singularly +fleet of foot and are excellent sailors. We are extremely fond of good +dinners, music, and dancing; we also like frequent changes of linen, +warm baths, and good beds, so now, please, some of you who are the best +dancers set about dancing, that our guest on his return home may be +able to tell his friends how much we surpass all other nations as +sailors, runners, dancers, and minstrels. Demodocus has left his lyre +at my house, so run some one or other of you and fetch it for him.” + +On this a servant hurried off to bring the lyre from the king’s house, +and the nine men who had been chosen as stewards stood forward. It was +their business to manage everything connected with the sports, so they +made the ground smooth and marked a wide space for the dancers. +Presently the servant came back with Demodocus’s lyre, and he took his +place in the midst of them, whereon the best young dancers in the town +began to foot and trip it so nimbly that Ulysses was delighted with the +merry twinkling of their feet. + +Meanwhile the bard began to sing the loves of Mars and Venus, and how +they first began their intrigue in the house of Vulcan. Mars made Venus +many presents, and defiled King Vulcan’s marriage bed, so the sun, who +saw what they were about, told Vulcan. Vulcan was very angry when he +heard such dreadful news, so he went to his smithy brooding mischief, +got his great anvil into its place, and began to forge some chains +which none could either unloose or break, so that they might stay there +in that place.69 When he had finished his snare he went into his +bedroom and festooned the bed-posts all over with chains like cobwebs; +he also let many hang down from the great beam of the ceiling. Not even +a god could see them so fine and subtle were they. As soon as he had +spread the chains all over the bed, he made as though he were setting +out for the fair state of Lemnos, which of all places in the world was +the one he was most fond of. But Mars kept no blind look out, and as +soon as he saw him start, hurried off to his house, burning with love +for Venus. + +Now Venus was just come in from a visit to her father Jove, and was +about sitting down when Mars came inside the house, and said as he took +her hand in his own, “Let us go to the couch of Vulcan: he is not at +home, but is gone off to Lemnos among the Sintians, whose speech is +barbarous.” + +She was nothing loth, so they went to the couch to take their rest, +whereon they were caught in the toils which cunning Vulcan had spread +for them, and could neither get up nor stir hand or foot, but found too +late that they were in a trap. Then Vulcan came up to them, for he had +turned back before reaching Lemnos, when his scout the sun told him +what was going on. He was in a furious passion, and stood in the +vestibule making a dreadful noise as he shouted to all the gods. + +“Father Jove,” he cried, “and all you other blessed gods who live for +ever, come here and see the ridiculous and disgraceful sight that I +will show you. Jove’s daughter Venus is always dishonouring me because +I am lame. She is in love with Mars, who is handsome and clean built, +whereas I am a cripple—but my parents are to blame for that, not I; +they ought never to have begotten me. Come and see the pair together +asleep on my bed. It makes me furious to look at them. They are very +fond of one another, but I do not think they will lie there longer than +they can help, nor do I think that they will sleep much; there, +however, they shall stay till her father has repaid me the sum I gave +him for his baggage of a daughter, who is fair but not honest.” + +On this the gods gathered to the house of Vulcan. Earth-encircling +Neptune came, and Mercury the bringer of luck, and King Apollo, but the +goddesses staid at home all of them for shame. Then the givers of all +good things stood in the doorway, and the blessed gods roared with +inextinguishable laughter, as they saw how cunning Vulcan had been, +whereon one would turn towards his neighbour saying: + +“Ill deeds do not prosper, and the weak confound the strong. See how +limping Vulcan, lame as he is, has caught Mars who is the fleetest god +in heaven; and now Mars will be cast in heavy damages.” + +Thus did they converse, but King Apollo said to Mercury, “Messenger +Mercury, giver of good things, you would not care how strong the chains +were, would you, if you could sleep with Venus?” + +“King Apollo,” answered Mercury, “I only wish I might get the chance, +though there were three times as many chains—and you might look on, all +of you, gods and goddesses, but I would sleep with her if I could.” + +The immortal gods burst out laughing as they heard him, but Neptune +took it all seriously, and kept on imploring Vulcan to set Mars free +again. “Let him go,” he cried, “and I will undertake, as you require, +that he shall pay you all the damages that are held reasonable among +the immortal gods.” + +“Do not,” replied Vulcan, “ask me to do this; a bad man’s bond is bad +security; what remedy could I enforce against you if Mars should go +away and leave his debts behind him along with his chains?” + +“Vulcan,” said Neptune, “if Mars goes away without paying his damages, +I will pay you myself.” So Vulcan answered, “In this case I cannot and +must not refuse you.” + +Thereon he loosed the bonds that bound them, and as soon as they were +free they scampered off, Mars to Thrace and laughter-loving Venus to +Cyprus and to Paphos, where is her grove and her altar fragrant with +burnt offerings. Here the Graces bathed her, and anointed her with oil +of ambrosia such as the immortal gods make use of, and they clothed her +in raiment of the most enchanting beauty. + +Thus sang the bard, and both Ulysses and the seafaring Phaeacians were +charmed as they heard him. + +Then Alcinous told Laodamas and Halius to dance alone, for there was no +one to compete with them. So they took a red ball which Polybus had +made for them, and one of them bent himself backwards and threw it up +towards the clouds, while the other jumped from off the ground and +caught it with ease before it came down again. When they had done +throwing the ball straight up into the air they began to dance, and at +the same time kept on throwing it backwards and forwards to one +another, while all the young men in the ring applauded and made a great +stamping with their feet. Then Ulysses said: + +“King Alcinous, you said your people were the nimblest dancers in the +world, and indeed they have proved themselves to be so. I was +astonished as I saw them.” + +The king was delighted at this, and exclaimed to the Phaeacians, +“Aldermen and town councillors, our guest seems to be a person of +singular judgement; let us give him such proof of our hospitality as he +may reasonably expect. There are twelve chief men among you, and +counting myself there are thirteen; contribute, each of you, a clean +cloak, a shirt, and a talent of fine gold; let us give him all this in +a lump down at once, so that when he gets his supper he may do so with +a light heart. As for Euryalus he will have to make a formal apology +and a present too, for he has been rude.” + +Thus did he speak. The others all of them applauded his saying, and +sent their servants to fetch the presents. Then Euryalus said, “King +Alcinous, I will give the stranger all the satisfaction you require. He +shall have my sword, which is of bronze, all but the hilt, which is of +silver. I will also give him the scabbard of newly sawn ivory into +which it fits. It will be worth a great deal to him.” + +As he spoke he placed the sword in the hands of Ulysses and said, “Good +luck to you, father stranger; if anything has been said amiss may the +winds blow it away with them, and may heaven grant you a safe return, +for I understand you have been long away from home, and have gone +through much hardship.” + +To which Ulysses answered, “Good luck to you too my friend, and may the +gods grant you every happiness. I hope you will not miss the sword you +have given me along with your apology.” + +With these words he girded the sword about his shoulders and towards +sundown the presents began to make their appearance, as the servants of +the donors kept bringing them to the house of King Alcinous; here his +sons received them, and placed them under their mother’s charge. Then +Alcinous led the way to the house and bade his guests take their seats. + +“Wife,” said he, turning to Queen Arete, “Go, fetch the best chest we +have, and put a clean cloak and shirt in it. Also, set a copper on the +fire and heat some water; our guest will take a warm bath; see also to +the careful packing of the presents that the noble Phaeacians have made +him; he will thus better enjoy both his supper and the singing that +will follow. I shall myself give him this golden goblet—which is of +exquisite workmanship—that he may be reminded of me for the rest of his +life whenever he makes a drink offering to Jove, or to any of the +gods.”70 + +Then Arete told her maids to set a large tripod upon the fire as fast +as they could, whereon they set a tripod full of bath water on to a +clear fire; they threw on sticks to make it blaze, and the water became +hot as the flame played about the belly of the tripod.71 Meanwhile +Arete brought a magnificent chest from her own room, and inside it she +packed all the beautiful presents of gold and raiment which the +Phaeacians had brought. Lastly she added a cloak and a good shirt from +Alcinous, and said to Ulysses: + +“See to the lid yourself, and have the whole bound round at once, for +fear any one should rob you by the way when you are asleep in your +ship.” 72 + +When Ulysses heard this he put the lid on the chest and made it fast +with a bond that Circe had taught him. He had done so before an upper +servant told him to come to the bath and wash himself. He was very glad +of a warm bath, for he had had no one to wait upon him ever since he +left the house of Calypso, who as long as he remained with her had +taken as good care of him as though he had been a god. When the +servants had done washing and anointing him with oil, and had given him +a clean cloak and shirt, he left the bath room and joined the guests +who were sitting over their wine. Lovely Nausicaa stood by one of the +bearing-posts supporting the roof of the cloister, and admired him as +she saw him pass. “Farewell stranger,” said she, “do not forget me when +you are safe at home again, for it is to me first that you owe a ransom +for having saved your life.” + +And Ulysses said, “Nausicaa, daughter of great Alcinous, may Jove the +mighty husband of Juno, grant that I may reach my home; so shall I +bless you as my guardian angel all my days, for it was you who saved +me.” + +When he had said this, he seated himself beside Alcinous. Supper was +then served, and the wine was mixed for drinking. A servant led in the +favourite bard Demodocus, and set him in the midst of the company, near +one of the bearing-posts supporting the cloister, that he might lean +against it. Then Ulysses cut off a piece of roast pork with plenty of +fat (for there was abundance left on the joint) and said to a servant, +“Take this piece of pork over to Demodocus and tell him to eat it; for +all the pain his lays may cause me I will salute him none the less; +bards are honoured and respected throughout the world, for the muse +teaches them their songs and loves them.” + +The servant carried the pork in his fingers over to Demodocus, who took +it and was very much pleased. They then laid their hands on the good +things that were before them, and as soon as they had had to eat and +drink, Ulysses said to Demodocus, “Demodocus, there is no one in the +world whom I admire more than I do you. You must have studied under the +Muse, Jove’s daughter, and under Apollo, so accurately do you sing the +return of the Achaeans with all their sufferings and adventures. If you +were not there yourself, you must have heard it all from some one who +was. Now, however, change your song and tell us of the wooden horse +which Epeus made with the assistance of Minerva, and which Ulysses got +by stratagem into the fort of Troy after freighting it with the men who +afterwards sacked the city. If you will sing this tale aright I will +tell all the world how magnificently heaven has endowed you.” + +The bard inspired of heaven took up the story at the point where some +of the Argives set fire to their tents and sailed away while others, +hidden within the horse,73 were waiting with Ulysses in the Trojan +place of assembly. For the Trojans themselves had drawn the horse into +their fortress, and it stood there while they sat in council round it, +and were in three minds as to what they should do. Some were for +breaking it up then and there; others would have it dragged to the top +of the rock on which the fortress stood, and then thrown down the +precipice; while yet others were for letting it remain as an offering +and propitiation for the gods. And this was how they settled it in the +end, for the city was doomed when it took in that horse, within which +were all the bravest of the Argives waiting to bring death and +destruction on the Trojans. Anon he sang how the sons of the Achaeans +issued from the horse, and sacked the town, breaking out from their +ambuscade. He sang how they overran the city hither and thither and +ravaged it, and how Ulysses went raging like Mars along with Menelaus +to the house of Deiphobus. It was there that the fight raged most +furiously, nevertheless by Minerva’s help he was victorious. + +All this he told, but Ulysses was overcome as he heard him, and his +cheeks were wet with tears. He wept as a woman weeps when she throws +herself on the body of her husband who has fallen before his own city +and people, fighting bravely in defence of his home and children. She +screams aloud and flings her arms about him as he lies gasping for +breath and dying, but her enemies beat her from behind about the back +and shoulders, and carry her off into slavery, to a life of labour and +sorrow, and the beauty fades from her cheeks—even so piteously did +Ulysses weep, but none of those present perceived his tears except +Alcinous, who was sitting near him, and could hear the sobs and sighs +that he was heaving. The king, therefore, at once rose and said: + +“Aldermen and town councillors of the Phaeacians, let Demodocus cease +his song, for there are those present who do not seem to like it. From +the moment that we had done supper and Demodocus began to sing, our +guest has been all the time groaning and lamenting. He is evidently in +great trouble, so let the bard leave off, that we may all enjoy +ourselves, hosts and guest alike. This will be much more as it should +be, for all these festivities, with the escort and the presents that we +are making with so much good will are wholly in his honour, and any one +with even a moderate amount of right feeling knows that he ought to +treat a guest and a suppliant as though he were his own brother. + +“Therefore, Sir, do you on your part affect no more concealment nor +reserve in the matter about which I shall ask you; it will be more +polite in you to give me a plain answer; tell me the name by which your +father and mother over yonder used to call you, and by which you were +known among your neighbours and fellow-citizens. There is no one, +neither rich nor poor, who is absolutely without any name whatever, for +people’s fathers and mothers give them names as soon as they are born. +Tell me also your country, nation, and city, that our ships may shape +their purpose accordingly and take you there. For the Phaeacians have +no pilots; their vessels have no rudders as those of other nations +have, but the ships themselves understand what it is that we are +thinking about and want; they know all the cities and countries in the +whole world, and can traverse the sea just as well even when it is +covered with mist and cloud, so that there is no danger of being +wrecked or coming to any harm. Still I do remember hearing my father +say that Neptune was angry with us for being too easy-going in the +matter of giving people escorts. He said that one of these days he +should wreck a ship of ours as it was returning from having escorted +some one,74 and bury our city under a high mountain. This is what my +father used to say, but whether the god will carry out his threat or no +is a matter which he will decide for himself. + +“And now, tell me and tell me true. Where have you been wandering, and +in what countries have you travelled? Tell us of the peoples +themselves, and of their cities—who were hostile, savage and +uncivilised, and who, on the other hand, hospitable and humane. Tell us +also why you are made so unhappy on hearing about the return of the +Argive Danaans from Troy. The gods arranged all this, and sent them +their misfortunes in order that future generations might have something +to sing about. Did you lose some brave kinsman of your wife’s when you +were before Troy? a son-in-law or father-in-law—which are the nearest +relations a man has outside his own flesh and blood? or was it some +brave and kindly-natured comrade—for a good friend is as dear to a man +as his own brother?” + + + + +BOOK IX + + +ULYSSES DECLARES HIMSELF AND BEGINS HIS STORY—-THE CICONS, LOTOPHAGI, +AND CYCLOPES. + + +And Ulysses answered, “King Alcinous, it is a good thing to hear a bard +with such a divine voice as this man has. There is nothing better or +more delightful than when a whole people make merry together, with the +guests sitting orderly to listen, while the table is loaded with bread +and meats, and the cup-bearer draws wine and fills his cup for every +man. This is indeed as fair a sight as a man can see. Now, however, +since you are inclined to ask the story of my sorrows, and rekindle my +own sad memories in respect of them, I do not know how to begin, nor +yet how to continue and conclude my tale, for the hand of heaven has +been laid heavily upon me. + +“Firstly, then, I will tell you my name that you too may know it, and +one day, if I outlive this time of sorrow, may become my guests though +I live so far away from all of you. I am Ulysses son of Laertes, +renowned among mankind for all manner of subtlety, so that my fame +ascends to heaven. I live in Ithaca, where there is a high mountain +called Neritum, covered with forests; and not far from it there is a +group of islands very near to one another—Dulichium, Same, and the +wooded island of Zacynthus. It lies squat on the horizon, all highest +up in the sea towards the sunset, while the others lie away from it +towards dawn.75 It is a rugged island, but it breeds brave men, and my +eyes know none that they better love to look upon. The goddess Calypso +kept me with her in her cave, and wanted me to marry her, as did also +the cunning Aeaean goddess Circe; but they could neither of them +persuade me, for there is nothing dearer to a man than his own country +and his parents, and however splendid a home he may have in a foreign +country, if it be far from father or mother, he does not care about it. +Now, however, I will tell you of the many hazardous adventures which by +Jove’s will I met with on my return from Troy. + +“When I had set sail thence the wind took me first to Ismarus, which is +the city of the Cicons. There I sacked the town and put the people to +the sword. We took their wives and also much booty, which we divided +equitably amongst us, so that none might have reason to complain. I +then said that we had better make off at once, but my men very +foolishly would not obey me, so they staid there drinking much wine and +killing great numbers of sheep and oxen on the sea shore. Meanwhile the +Cicons cried out for help to other Cicons who lived inland. These were +more in number, and stronger, and they were more skilled in the art of +war, for they could fight, either from chariots or on foot as the +occasion served; in the morning, therefore, they came as thick as +leaves and bloom in summer, and the hand of heaven was against us, so +that we were hard pressed. They set the battle in array near the ships, +and the hosts aimed their bronze-shod spears at one another.76 So long +as the day waxed and it was still morning, we held our own against +them, though they were more in number than we; but as the sun went +down, towards the time when men loose their oxen, the Cicons got the +better of us, and we lost half a dozen men from every ship we had; so +we got away with those that were left. + +“Thence we sailed onward with sorrow in our hearts, but glad to have +escaped death though we had lost our comrades, nor did we leave till we +had thrice invoked each one of the poor fellows who had perished by the +hands of the Cicons. Then Jove raised the North wind against us till it +blew a hurricane, so that land and sky were hidden in thick clouds, and +night sprang forth out of the heavens. We let the ships run before the +gale, but the force of the wind tore our sails to tatters, so we took +them down for fear of shipwreck, and rowed our hardest towards the +land. There we lay two days and two nights suffering much alike from +toil and distress of mind, but on the morning of the third day we again +raised our masts, set sail, and took our places, letting the wind and +steersmen direct our ship. I should have got home at that time unharmed +had not the North wind and the currents been against me as I was +doubling Cape Malea, and set me off my course hard by the island of +Cythera. + +“I was driven thence by foul winds for a space of nine days upon the +sea, but on the tenth day we reached the land of the Lotus-eaters, who +live on a food that comes from a kind of flower. Here we landed to take +in fresh water, and our crews got their mid-day meal on the shore near +the ships. When they had eaten and drunk I sent two of my company to +see what manner of men the people of the place might be, and they had a +third man under them. They started at once, and went about among the +Lotus-eaters, who did them no hurt, but gave them to eat of the lotus, +which was so delicious that those who ate of it left off caring about +home, and did not even want to go back and say what had happened to +them, but were for staying and munching lotus77 with the Lotus-eaters +without thinking further of their return; nevertheless, though they +wept bitterly I forced them back to the ships and made them fast under +the benches. Then I told the rest to go on board at once, lest any of +them should taste of the lotus and leave off wanting to get home, so +they took their places and smote the grey sea with their oars. + +“We sailed hence, always in much distress, till we came to the land of +the lawless and inhuman Cyclopes. Now the Cyclopes neither plant nor +plough, but trust in providence, and live on such wheat, barley, and +grapes as grow wild without any kind of tillage, and their wild grapes +yield them wine as the sun and the rain may grow them. They have no +laws nor assemblies of the people, but live in caves on the tops of +high mountains; each is lord and master in his family, and they take no +account of their neighbours. + +“Now off their harbour there lies a wooded and fertile island not quite +close to the land of the Cyclopes, but still not far. It is over-run +with wild goats, that breed there in great numbers and are never +disturbed by foot of man; for sportsmen—who as a rule will suffer so +much hardship in forest or among mountain precipices—do not go there, +nor yet again is it ever ploughed or fed down, but it lies a wilderness +untilled and unsown from year to year, and has no living thing upon it +but only goats. For the Cyclopes have no ships, nor yet shipwrights who +could make ships for them; they cannot therefore go from city to city, +or sail over the sea to one another’s country as people who have ships +can do; if they had had these they would have colonised the island,78 +for it is a very good one, and would yield everything in due season. +There are meadows that in some places come right down to the sea shore, +well watered and full of luscious grass; grapes would do there +excellently; there is level land for ploughing, and it would always +yield heavily at harvest time, for the soil is deep. There is a good +harbour where no cables are wanted, nor yet anchors, nor need a ship be +moored, but all one has to do is to beach one’s vessel and stay there +till the wind becomes fair for putting out to sea again. At the head of +the harbour there is a spring of clear water coming out of a cave, and +there are poplars growing all round it. + +“Here we entered, but so dark was the night that some god must have +brought us in, for there was nothing whatever to be seen. A thick mist +hung all round our ships;79 the moon was hidden behind a mass of clouds +so that no one could have seen the island if he had looked for it, nor +were there any breakers to tell us we were close in shore before we +found ourselves upon the land itself; when, however, we had beached the +ships, we took down the sails, went ashore and camped upon the beach +till daybreak. + +“When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, we admired the +island and wandered all over it, while the nymphs Jove’s daughters +roused the wild goats that we might get some meat for our dinner. On +this we fetched our spears and bows and arrows from the ships, and +dividing ourselves into three bands began to shoot the goats. Heaven +sent us excellent sport; I had twelve ships with me, and each ship got +nine goats, while my own ship had ten; thus through the livelong day to +the going down of the sun we ate and drank our fill, and we had plenty +of wine left, for each one of us had taken many jars full when we +sacked the city of the Cicons, and this had not yet run out. While we +were feasting we kept turning our eyes towards the land of the +Cyclopes, which was hard by, and saw the smoke of their stubble fires. +We could almost fancy we heard their voices and the bleating of their +sheep and goats, but when the sun went down and it came on dark, we +camped down upon the beach, and next morning I called a council. + +“‘Stay here, my brave fellows,’ said I, ‘all the rest of you, while I +go with my ship and exploit these people myself: I want to see if they +are uncivilised savages, or a hospitable and humane race.’ + +“I went on board, bidding my men to do so also and loose the hawsers; +so they took their places and smote the grey sea with their oars. When +we got to the land, which was not far, there, on the face of a cliff +near the sea, we saw a great cave overhung with laurels. It was a +station for a great many sheep and goats, and outside there was a large +yard, with a high wall round it made of stones built into the ground +and of trees both pine and oak. This was the abode of a huge monster +who was then away from home shepherding his flocks. He would have +nothing to do with other people, but led the life of an outlaw. He was +a horrid creature, not like a human being at all, but resembling rather +some crag that stands out boldly against the sky on the top of a high +mountain. + +“I told my men to draw the ship ashore, and stay where they were, all +but the twelve best among them, who were to go along with myself. I +also took a goatskin of sweet black wine which had been given me by +Maron, son of Euanthes, who was priest of Apollo the patron god of +Ismarus, and lived within the wooded precincts of the temple. When we +were sacking the city we respected him, and spared his life, as also +his wife and child; so he made me some presents of great value—seven +talents of fine gold, and a bowl of silver, with twelve jars of sweet +wine, unblended, and of the most exquisite flavour. Not a man nor maid +in the house knew about it, but only himself, his wife, and one +housekeeper: when he drank it he mixed twenty parts of water to one of +wine, and yet the fragrance from the mixing-bowl was so exquisite that +it was impossible to refrain from drinking. I filled a large skin with +this wine, and took a wallet full of provisions with me, for my mind +misgave me that I might have to deal with some savage who would be of +great strength, and would respect neither right nor law. + +“We soon reached his cave, but he was out shepherding, so we went +inside and took stock of all that we could see. His cheese-racks were +loaded with cheeses, and he had more lambs and kids than his pens could +hold. They were kept in separate flocks; first there were the hoggets, +then the oldest of the younger lambs and lastly the very young ones80 +all kept apart from one another; as for his dairy, all the vessels, +bowls, and milk pails into which he milked, were swimming with whey. +When they saw all this, my men begged me to let them first steal some +cheeses, and make off with them to the ship; they would then return, +drive down the lambs and kids, put them on board and sail away with +them. It would have been indeed better if we had done so but I would +not listen to them, for I wanted to see the owner himself, in the hope +that he might give me a present. When, however, we saw him my poor men +found him ill to deal with. + +“We lit a fire, offered some of the cheeses in sacrifice, ate others of +them, and then sat waiting till the Cyclops should come in with his +sheep. When he came, he brought in with him a huge load of dry firewood +to light the fire for his supper, and this he flung with such a noise +on to the floor of his cave that we hid ourselves for fear at the far +end of the cavern. Meanwhile he drove all the ewes inside, as well as +the she-goats that he was going to milk, leaving the males, both rams +and he-goats, outside in the yards. Then he rolled a huge stone to the +mouth of the cave—so huge that two and twenty strong four-wheeled +waggons would not be enough to draw it from its place against the +doorway. When he had so done he sat down and milked his ewes and goats, +all in due course, and then let each of them have her own young. He +curdled half the milk and set it aside in wicker strainers, but the +other half he poured into bowls that he might drink it for his supper. +When he had got through with all his work, he lit the fire, and then +caught sight of us, whereon he said: + +“‘Strangers, who are you? Where do sail from? Are you traders, or do +you sail the sea as rovers, with your hands against every man, and +every man’s hand against you?’ + +“We were frightened out of our senses by his loud voice and monstrous +form, but I managed to say, ‘We are Achaeans on our way home from Troy, +but by the will of Jove, and stress of weather, we have been driven far +out of our course. We are the people of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, who +has won infinite renown throughout the whole world, by sacking so great +a city and killing so many people. We therefore humbly pray you to show +us some hospitality, and otherwise make us such presents as visitors +may reasonably expect. May your excellency fear the wrath of heaven, +for we are your suppliants, and Jove takes all respectable travellers +under his protection, for he is the avenger of all suppliants and +foreigners in distress.’ + +“To this he gave me but a pitiless answer, ‘Stranger,’ said he, ‘you +are a fool, or else you know nothing of this country. Talk to me, +indeed, about fearing the gods or shunning their anger? We Cyclopes do +not care about Jove or any of your blessed gods, for we are ever so +much stronger than they. I shall not spare either yourself or your +companions out of any regard for Jove, unless I am in the humour for +doing so. And now tell me where you made your ship fast when you came +on shore. Was it round the point, or is she lying straight off the +land?’ + +“He said this to draw me out, but I was too cunning to be caught in +that way, so I answered with a lie; ‘Neptune,’ said I, ‘sent my ship on +to the rocks at the far end of your country, and wrecked it. We were +driven on to them from the open sea, but I and those who are with me +escaped the jaws of death.’ + +“The cruel wretch vouchsafed me not one word of answer, but with a +sudden clutch he gripped up two of my men at once and dashed them down +upon the ground as though they had been puppies. Their brains were shed +upon the ground, and the earth was wet with their blood. Then he tore +them limb from limb and supped upon them. He gobbled them up like a +lion in the wilderness, flesh, bones, marrow, and entrails, without +leaving anything uneaten. As for us, we wept and lifted up our hands to +heaven on seeing such a horrid sight, for we did not know what else to +do; but when the Cyclops had filled his huge paunch, and had washed +down his meal of human flesh with a drink of neat milk, he stretched +himself full length upon the ground among his sheep, and went to sleep. +I was at first inclined to seize my sword, draw it, and drive it into +his vitals, but I reflected that if I did we should all certainly be +lost, for we should never be able to shift the stone which the monster +had put in front of the door. So we stayed sobbing and sighing where we +were till morning came. + +“When the child of morning, rosy-fingered dawn, appeared, he again lit +his fire, milked his goats and ewes, all quite rightly, and then let +each have her own young one; as soon as he had got through with all his +work, he clutched up two more of my men, and began eating them for his +morning’s meal. Presently, with the utmost ease, he rolled the stone +away from the door and drove out his sheep, but he at once put it back +again—as easily as though he were merely clapping the lid on to a +quiver full of arrows. As soon as he had done so he shouted, and cried +‘Shoo, shoo,’ after his sheep to drive them on to the mountain; so I +was left to scheme some way of taking my revenge and covering myself +with glory. + +“In the end I deemed it would be the best plan to do as follows: The +Cyclops had a great club which was lying near one of the sheep pens; it +was of green olive wood, and he had cut it intending to use it for a +staff as soon as it should be dry. It was so huge that we could only +compare it to the mast of a twenty-oared merchant vessel of large +burden, and able to venture out into open sea. I went up to this club +and cut off about six feet of it; I then gave this piece to the men and +told them to fine it evenly off at one end, which they proceeded to do, +and lastly I brought it to a point myself, charring the end in the fire +to make it harder. When I had done this I hid it under dung, which was +lying about all over the cave, and told the men to cast lots which of +them should venture along with myself to lift it and bore it into the +monster’s eye while he was asleep. The lot fell upon the very four whom +I should have chosen, and I myself made five. In the evening the wretch +came back from shepherding, and drove his flocks into the cave—this +time driving them all inside, and not leaving any in the yards; I +suppose some fancy must have taken him, or a god must have prompted him +to do so. As soon as he had put the stone back to its place against the +door, he sat down, milked his ewes and his goats all quite rightly, and +then let each have her own young one; when he had got through with all +this work, he gripped up two more of my men, and made his supper off +them. So I went up to him with an ivy-wood bowl of black wine in my +hands: + +“‘Look here, Cyclops,’ said I, you have been eating a great deal of +man’s flesh, so take this and drink some wine, that you may see what +kind of liquor we had on board my ship. I was bringing it to you as a +drink-offering, in the hope that you would take compassion upon me and +further me on my way home, whereas all you do is to go on ramping and +raving most intolerably. You ought to be ashamed of yourself; how can +you expect people to come see you any more if you treat them in this +way?’ + +“He then took the cup and drank. He was so delighted with the taste of +the wine that he begged me for another bowl full. ‘Be so kind,’ he +said, ‘as to give me some more, and tell me your name at once. I want +to make you a present that you will be glad to have. We have wine even +in this country, for our soil grows grapes and the sun ripens them, but +this drinks like Nectar and Ambrosia all in one.’ + +“I then gave him some more; three times did I fill the bowl for him, +and three times did he drain it without thought or heed; then, when I +saw that the wine had got into his head, I said to him as plausibly as +I could: ‘Cyclops, you ask my name and I will tell it you; give me, +therefore, the present you promised me; my name is Noman; this is what +my father and mother and my friends have always called me.’ + +“But the cruel wretch said, ‘Then I will eat all Noman’s comrades +before Noman himself, and will keep Noman for the last. This is the +present that I will make him.’ + +“As he spoke he reeled, and fell sprawling face upwards on the ground. +His great neck hung heavily backwards and a deep sleep took hold upon +him. Presently he turned sick, and threw up both wine and the gobbets +of human flesh on which he had been gorging, for he was very drunk. +Then I thrust the beam of wood far into the embers to heat it, and +encouraged my men lest any of them should turn faint-hearted. When the +wood, green though it was, was about to blaze, I drew it out of the +fire glowing with heat, and my men gathered round me, for heaven had +filled their hearts with courage. We drove the sharp end of the beam +into the monster’s eye, and bearing upon it with all my weight I kept +turning it round and round as though I were boring a hole in a ship’s +plank with an auger, which two men with a wheel and strap can keep on +turning as long as they choose. Even thus did we bore the red hot beam +into his eye, till the boiling blood bubbled all over it as we worked +it round and round, so that the steam from the burning eyeball scalded +his eyelids and eyebrows, and the roots of the eye sputtered in the +fire. As a blacksmith plunges an axe or hatchet into cold water to +temper it—for it is this that gives strength to the iron—and it makes a +great hiss as he does so, even thus did the Cyclops’ eye hiss round the +beam of olive wood, and his hideous yells made the cave ring again. We +ran away in a fright, but he plucked the beam all besmirched with gore +from his eye, and hurled it from him in a frenzy of rage and pain, +shouting as he did so to the other Cyclopes who lived on the bleak +headlands near him; so they gathered from all quarters round his cave +when they heard him crying, and asked what was the matter with him. + +“‘What ails you, Polyphemus,’ said they, ‘that you make such a noise, +breaking the stillness of the night, and preventing us from being able +to sleep? Surely no man is carrying off your sheep? Surely no man is +trying to kill you either by fraud or by force?’ + +“But Polyphemus shouted to them from inside the cave, ‘Noman is killing +me by fraud; no man is killing me by force.’ + +“‘Then,’ said they, ‘if no man is attacking you, you must be ill; when +Jove makes people ill, there is no help for it, and you had better pray +to your father Neptune.’ + +“Then they went away, and I laughed inwardly at the success of my +clever stratagem, but the Cyclops, groaning and in an agony of pain, +felt about with his hands till he found the stone and took it from the +door; then he sat in the doorway and stretched his hands in front of it +to catch anyone going out with the sheep, for he thought I might be +foolish enough to attempt this. + +“As for myself I kept on puzzling to think how I could best save my own +life and those of my companions; I schemed and schemed, as one who +knows that his life depends upon it, for the danger was very great. In +the end I deemed that this plan would be the best; the male sheep were +well grown, and carried a heavy black fleece, so I bound them +noiselessly in threes together, with some of the withies on which the +wicked monster used to sleep. There was to be a man under the middle +sheep, and the two on either side were to cover him, so that there were +three sheep to each man. As for myself there was a ram finer than any +of the others, so I caught hold of him by the back, esconced myself in +the thick wool under his belly, and hung on patiently to his fleece, +face upwards, keeping a firm hold on it all the time. + +“Thus, then, did we wait in great fear of mind till morning came, but +when the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, the male sheep +hurried out to feed, while the ewes remained bleating about the pens +waiting to be milked, for their udders were full to bursting; but their +master in spite of all his pain felt the backs of all the sheep as they +stood upright, without being sharp enough to find out that the men were +underneath their bellies. As the ram was going out, last of all, heavy +with its fleece and with the weight of my crafty self, Polyphemus laid +hold of it and said: + +“‘My good ram, what is it that makes you the last to leave my cave this +morning? You are not wont to let the ewes go before you, but lead the +mob with a run whether to flowery mead or bubbling fountain, and are +the first to come home again at night; but now you lag last of all. Is +it because you know your master has lost his eye, and are sorry because +that wicked Noman and his horrid crew has got him down in his drink and +blinded him? But I will have his life yet. If you could understand and +talk, you would tell me where the wretch is hiding, and I would dash +his brains upon the ground till they flew all over the cave. I should +thus have some satisfaction for the harm this no-good Noman has done +me.’ + +“As he spoke he drove the ram outside, but when we were a little way +out from the cave and yards, I first got from under the ram’s belly, +and then freed my comrades; as for the sheep, which were very fat, by +constantly heading them in the right direction we managed to drive them +down to the ship. The crew rejoiced greatly at seeing those of us who +had escaped death, but wept for the others whom the Cyclops had killed. +However, I made signs to them by nodding and frowning that they were to +hush their crying, and told them to get all the sheep on board at once +and put out to sea; so they went aboard, took their places, and smote +the grey sea with their oars. Then, when I had got as far out as my +voice would reach, I began to jeer at the Cyclops. + +“‘Cyclops,’ said I, ‘you should have taken better measure of your man +before eating up his comrades in your cave. You wretch, eat up your +visitors in your own house? You might have known that your sin would +find you out, and now Jove and the other gods have punished you.’ + +“He got more and more furious as he heard me, so he tore the top from +off a high mountain, and flung it just in front of my ship so that it +was within a little of hitting the end of the rudder.81 The sea quaked +as the rock fell into it, and the wash of the wave it raised carried us +back towards the mainland, and forced us towards the shore. But I +snatched up a long pole and kept the ship off, making signs to my men +by nodding my head, that they must row for their lives, whereon they +laid out with a will. When we had got twice as far as we were before, I +was for jeering at the Cyclops again, but the men begged and prayed of +me to hold my tongue. + +“‘Do not,’ they exclaimed, ‘be mad enough to provoke this savage +creature further; he has thrown one rock at us already which drove us +back again to the mainland, and we made sure it had been the death of +us; if he had then heard any further sound of voices he would have +pounded our heads and our ship’s timbers into a jelly with the rugged +rocks he would have heaved at us, for he can throw them a long way.’ + +“But I would not listen to them, and shouted out to him in my rage, +‘Cyclops, if any one asks you who it was that put your eye out and +spoiled your beauty, say it was the valiant warrior Ulysses, son of +Laertes, who lives in Ithaca.’ + +“On this he groaned, and cried out, ‘Alas, alas, then the old prophecy +about me is coming true. There was a prophet here, at one time, a man +both brave and of great stature, Telemus son of Eurymus, who was an +excellent seer, and did all the prophesying for the Cyclopes till he +grew old; he told me that all this would happen to me some day, and +said I should lose my sight by the hand of Ulysses. I have been all +along expecting some one of imposing presence and superhuman strength, +whereas he turns out to be a little insignificant weakling, who has +managed to blind my eye by taking advantage of me in my drink; come +here, then, Ulysses, that I may make you presents to show my +hospitality, and urge Neptune to help you forward on your journey—for +Neptune and I are father and son. He, if he so will, shall heal me, +which no one else neither god nor man can do.’ + +“Then I said, ‘I wish I could be as sure of killing you outright and +sending you down to the house of Hades, as I am that it will take more +than Neptune to cure that eye of yours.’ + +“On this he lifted up his hands to the firmament of heaven and prayed, +saying, ‘Hear me, great Neptune; if I am indeed your own true begotten +son, grant that Ulysses may never reach his home alive; or if he must +get back to his friends at last, let him do so late and in sore plight +after losing all his men [let him reach his home in another man’s ship +and find trouble in his house.’82 + +“Thus did he pray, and Neptune heard his prayer. Then he picked up a +rock much larger than the first, swung it aloft and hurled it with +prodigious force. It fell just short of the ship, but was within a +little of hitting the end of the rudder. The sea quaked as the rock +fell into it, and the wash of the wave it raised drove us onwards on +our way towards the shore of the island. + +“When at last we got to the island where we had left the rest of our +ships, we found our comrades lamenting us, and anxiously awaiting our +return. We ran our vessel upon the sands and got out of her on to the +sea shore; we also landed the Cyclops’ sheep, and divided them +equitably amongst us so that none might have reason to complain. As for +the ram, my companions agreed that I should have it as an extra share; +so I sacrificed it on the sea shore, and burned its thigh bones to +Jove, who is the lord of all. But he heeded not my sacrifice, and only +thought how he might destroy both my ships and my comrades. + +“Thus through the livelong day to the going down of the sun we feasted +our fill on meat and drink, but when the sun went down and it came on +dark, we camped upon the beach. When the child of morning rosy-fingered +Dawn appeared, I bade my men on board and loose the hawsers. Then they +took their places and smote the grey sea with their oars; so we sailed +on with sorrow in our hearts, but glad to have escaped death though we +had lost our comrades. + + + + +BOOK X + + +AEOLUS, THE LAESTRYGONES, CIRCE. + + +“Thence we went on to the Aeolian island where lives Aeolus son of +Hippotas, dear to the immortal gods. It is an island that floats (as it +were) upon the sea,83 iron bound with a wall that girds it. Now, Aeolus +has six daughters and six lusty sons, so he made the sons marry the +daughters, and they all live with their dear father and mother, +feasting and enjoying every conceivable kind of luxury. All day long +the atmosphere of the house is loaded with the savour of roasting meats +till it groans again, yard and all; but by night they sleep on their +well made bedsteads, each with his own wife between the blankets. These +were the people among whom we had now come. + +“Aeolus entertained me for a whole month asking me questions all the +time about Troy, the Argive fleet, and the return of the Achaeans. I +told him exactly how everything had happened, and when I said I must +go, and asked him to further me on my way, he made no sort of +difficulty, but set about doing so at once. Moreover, he flayed me a +prime ox-hide to hold the ways of the roaring winds, which he shut up +in the hide as in a sack—for Jove had made him captain over the winds, +and he could stir or still each one of them according to his own +pleasure. He put the sack in the ship and bound the mouth so tightly +with a silver thread that not even a breath of a side-wind could blow +from any quarter. The West wind which was fair for us did he alone let +blow as it chose; but it all came to nothing, for we were lost through +our own folly. + +“Nine days and nine nights did we sail, and on the tenth day our native +land showed on the horizon. We got so close in that we could see the +stubble fires burning, and I, being then dead beat, fell into a light +sleep, for I had never let the rudder out of my own hands, that we +might get home the faster. On this the men fell to talking among +themselves, and said I was bringing back gold and silver in the sack +that Aeolus had given me. ‘Bless my heart,’ would one turn to his +neighbour, saying, ‘how this man gets honoured and makes friends to +whatever city or country he may go. See what fine prizes he is taking +home from Troy, while we, who have travelled just as far as he has, +come back with hands as empty as we set out with—and now Aeolus has +given him ever so much more. Quick—let us see what it all is, and how +much gold and silver there is in the sack he gave him.’ + +“Thus they talked and evil counsels prevailed. They loosed the sack, +whereupon the wind flew howling forth and raised a storm that carried +us weeping out to sea and away from our own country. Then I awoke, and +knew not whether to throw myself into the sea or to live on and make +the best of it; but I bore it, covered myself up, and lay down in the +ship, while the men lamented bitterly as the fierce winds bore our +fleet back to the Aeolian island. + +“When we reached it we went ashore to take in water, and dined hard by +the ships. Immediately after dinner I took a herald and one of my men +and went straight to the house of Aeolus, where I found him feasting +with his wife and family; so we sat down as suppliants on the +threshold. They were astounded when they saw us and said, ‘Ulysses, +what brings you here? What god has been ill-treating you? We took great +pains to further you on your way home to Ithaca, or wherever it was +that you wanted to go to.’ + +“Thus did they speak, but I answered sorrowfully, ‘My men have undone +me; they, and cruel sleep, have ruined me. My friends, mend me this +mischief, for you can if you will.’ + +“I spoke as movingly as I could, but they said nothing, till their +father answered, ‘Vilest of mankind, get you gone at once out of the +island; him whom heaven hates will I in no wise help. Be off, for you +come here as one abhorred of heaven.’ And with these words he sent me +sorrowing from his door. + +“Thence we sailed sadly on till the men were worn out with long and +fruitless rowing, for there was no longer any wind to help them. Six +days, night and day did we toil, and on the seventh day we reached the +rocky stronghold of Lamus—Telepylus, the city of the Laestrygonians, +where the shepherd who is driving in his sheep and goats [to be milked] +salutes him who is driving out his flock [to feed] and this last +answers the salute. In that country a man who could do without sleep +might earn double wages, one as a herdsman of cattle, and another as a +shepherd, for they work much the same by night as they do by day.84 + +“When we reached the harbour we found it land-locked under steep +cliffs, with a narrow entrance between two headlands. My captains took +all their ships inside, and made them fast close to one another, for +there was never so much as a breath of wind inside, but it was always +dead calm. I kept my own ship outside, and moored it to a rock at the +very end of the point; then I climbed a high rock to reconnoitre, but +could see no sign neither of man nor cattle, only some smoke rising +from the ground. So I sent two of my company with an attendant to find +out what sort of people the inhabitants were. + +“The men when they got on shore followed a level road by which the +people draw their firewood from the mountains into the town, till +presently they met a young woman who had come outside to fetch water, +and who was daughter to a Laestrygonian named Antiphates. She was going +to the fountain Artacia from which the people bring in their water, and +when my men had come close up to her, they asked her who the king of +that country might be, and over what kind of people he ruled; so she +directed them to her father’s house, but when they got there they found +his wife to be a giantess as huge as a mountain, and they were +horrified at the sight of her. + +“She at once called her husband Antiphates from the place of assembly, +and forthwith he set about killing my men. He snatched up one of them, +and began to make his dinner off him then and there, whereon the other +two ran back to the ships as fast as ever they could. But Antiphates +raised a hue-and-cry after them, and thousands of sturdy Laestrygonians +sprang up from every quarter—ogres, not men. They threw vast rocks at +us from the cliffs as though they had been mere stones, and I heard the +horrid sound of the ships crunching up against one another, and the +death cries of my men, as the Laestrygonians speared them like fishes +and took them home to eat them. While they were thus killing my men +within the harbour I drew my sword, cut the cable of my own ship, and +told my men to row with all their might if they too would not fare like +the rest; so they laid out for their lives, and we were thankful enough +when we got into open water out of reach of the rocks they hurled at +us. As for the others there was not one of them left. + +“Thence we sailed sadly on, glad to have escaped death, though we had +lost our comrades, and came to the Aeaean island, where Circe lives—a +great and cunning goddess who is own sister to the magician Aeetes—for +they are both children of the sun by Perse, who is daughter to Oceanus. +We brought our ship into a safe harbour without a word, for some god +guided us thither, and having landed we lay there for two days and two +nights, worn out in body and mind. When the morning of the third day +came I took my spear and my sword, and went away from the ship to +reconnoitre, and see if I could discover signs of human handiwork, or +hear the sound of voices. Climbing to the top of a high look-out I +espied the smoke of Circe’s house rising upwards amid a dense forest of +trees, and when I saw this I doubted whether, having seen the smoke, I +would not go on at once and find out more, but in the end I deemed it +best to go back to the ship, give the men their dinners, and send some +of them instead of going myself. + +“When I had nearly got back to the ship some god took pity upon my +solitude, and sent a fine antlered stag right into the middle of my +path. He was coming down his pasture in the forest to drink of the +river, for the heat of the sun drove him, and as he passed I struck him +in the middle of the back; the bronze point of the spear went clean +through him, and he lay groaning in the dust until the life went out of +him. Then I set my foot upon him, drew my spear from the wound, and +laid it down; I also gathered rough grass and rushes and twisted them +into a fathom or so of good stout rope, with which I bound the four +feet of the noble creature together; having so done I hung him round my +neck and walked back to the ship leaning upon my spear, for the stag +was much too big for me to be able to carry him on my shoulder, +steadying him with one hand. As I threw him down in front of the ship, +I called the men and spoke cheeringly man by man to each of them. ‘Look +here my friends,’ said I, ‘we are not going to die so much before our +time after all, and at any rate we will not starve so long as we have +got something to eat and drink on board.’ On this they uncovered their +heads upon the sea shore and admired the stag, for he was indeed a +splendid fellow. Then, when they had feasted their eyes upon him +sufficiently, they washed their hands and began to cook him for dinner. + +“Thus through the livelong day to the going down of the sun we stayed +there eating and drinking our fill, but when the sun went down and it +came on dark, we camped upon the sea shore. When the child of morning, +rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, I called a council and said, ‘My friends, +we are in very great difficulties; listen therefore to me. We have no +idea where the sun either sets or rises,85 so that we do not even know +East from West. I see no way out of it; nevertheless, we must try and +find one. We are certainly on an island, for I went as high as I could +this morning, and saw the sea reaching all round it to the horizon; it +lies low, but towards the middle I saw smoke rising from out of a thick +forest of trees.’ + +“Their hearts sank as they heard me, for they remembered how they had +been treated by the Laestrygonian Antiphates, and by the savage ogre +Polyphemus. They wept bitterly in their dismay, but there was nothing +to be got by crying, so I divided them into two companies and set a +captain over each; I gave one company to Eurylochus, while I took +command of the other myself. Then we cast lots in a helmet, and the lot +fell upon Eurylochus; so he set out with his twenty-two men, and they +wept, as also did we who were left behind. + +“When they reached Circe’s house they found it built of cut stones, on +a site that could be seen from far, in the middle of the forest. There +were wild mountain wolves and lions prowling all round it—poor +bewitched creatures whom she had tamed by her enchantments and drugged +into subjection. They did not attack my men, but wagged their great +tails, fawned upon them, and rubbed their noses lovingly against +them.86 As hounds crowd round their master when they see him coming +from dinner—for they know he will bring them something—even so did +these wolves and lions with their great claws fawn upon my men, but the +men were terribly frightened at seeing such strange creatures. +Presently they reached the gates of the goddess’s house, and as they +stood there they could hear Circe within, singing most beautifully as +she worked at her loom, making a web so fine, so soft, and of such +dazzling colours as no one but a goddess could weave. On this Polites, +whom I valued and trusted more than any other of my men, said, ‘There +is some one inside working at a loom and singing most beautifully; the +whole place resounds with it, let us call her and see whether she is +woman or goddess.’ + +“They called her and she came down, unfastened the door, and bade them +enter. They, thinking no evil, followed her, all except Eurylochus, who +suspected mischief and staid outside. When she had got them into her +house, she set them upon benches and seats and mixed them a mess with +cheese, honey, meal, and Pramnian wine, but she drugged it with wicked +poisons to make them forget their homes, and when they had drunk she +turned them into pigs by a stroke of her wand, and shut them up in her +pig-styes. They were like pigs—head, hair, and all, and they grunted +just as pigs do; but their senses were the same as before, and they +remembered everything. + +“Thus then were they shut up squealing, and Circe threw them some +acorns and beech masts such as pigs eat, but Eurylochus hurried back to +tell me about the sad fate of our comrades. He was so overcome with +dismay that though he tried to speak he could find no words to do so; +his eyes filled with tears and he could only sob and sigh, till at last +we forced his story out of him, and he told us what had happened to the +others. + +“‘We went,’ said he, ‘as you told us, through the forest, and in the +middle of it there was a fine house built with cut stones in a place +that could be seen from far. There we found a woman, or else she was a +goddess, working at her loom and singing sweetly; so the men shouted to +her and called her, whereon she at once came down, opened the door, and +invited us in. The others did not suspect any mischief so they followed +her into the house, but I staid where I was, for I thought there might +be some treachery. From that moment I saw them no more, for not one of +them ever came out, though I sat a long time watching for them.’ + +“Then I took my sword of bronze and slung it over my shoulders; I also +took my bow, and told Eurylochus to come back with me and shew me the +way. But he laid hold of me with both his hands and spoke piteously, +saying, ‘Sir, do not force me to go with you, but let me stay here, for +I know you will not bring one of them back with you, nor even return +alive yourself; let us rather see if we cannot escape at any rate with +the few that are left us, for we may still save our lives.’ + +“‘Stay where you are, then,’ answered I, ‘eating and drinking at the +ship, but I must go, for I am most urgently bound to do so.’ + +“With this I left the ship and went up inland. When I got through the +charmed grove, and was near the great house of the enchantress Circe, I +met Mercury with his golden wand, disguised as a young man in the +hey-day of his youth and beauty with the down just coming upon his +face. He came up to me and took my hand within his own, saying, ‘My +poor unhappy man, whither are you going over this mountain top, alone +and without knowing the way? Your men are shut up in Circe’s pigstyes, +like so many wild boars in their lairs. You surely do not fancy that +you can set them free? I can tell you that you will never get back and +will have to stay there with the rest of them. But never mind, I will +protect you and get you out of your difficulty. Take this herb, which +is one of great virtue, and keep it about you when you go to Circe’s +house, it will be a talisman to you against every kind of mischief. + +“‘And I will tell you of all the wicked witchcraft that Circe will try +to practice upon you. She will mix a mess for you to drink, and she +will drug the meal with which she makes it, but she will not be able to +charm you, for the virtue of the herb that I shall give you will +prevent her spells from working. I will tell you all about it. When +Circe strikes you with her wand, draw your sword and spring upon her as +though you were going to kill her. She will then be frightened, and +will desire you to go to bed with her; on this you must not point blank +refuse her, for you want her to set your companions free, and to take +good care also of yourself, but you must make her swear solemnly by all +the blessed gods that she will plot no further mischief against you, or +else when she has got you naked she will unman you and make you fit for +nothing.’ + +“As he spoke he pulled the herb out of the ground and shewed me what it +was like. The root was black, while the flower was as white as milk; +the gods call it Moly, and mortal men cannot uproot it, but the gods +can do whatever they like. + +“Then Mercury went back to high Olympus passing over the wooded island; +but I fared onward to the house of Circe, and my heart was clouded with +care as I walked along. When I got to the gates I stood there and +called the goddess, and as soon as she heard me she came down, opened +the door, and asked me to come in; so I followed her—much troubled in +my mind. She set me on a richly decorated seat inlaid with silver, +there was a footstool also under my feet, and she mixed a mess in a +golden goblet for me to drink; but she drugged it, for she meant me +mischief. When she had given it me, and I had drunk it without its +charming me, she struck me with her wand. ‘There now,’ she cried, ‘be +off to the pigstye, and make your lair with the rest of them.’ + +“But I rushed at her with my sword drawn as though I would kill her, +whereon she fell with a loud scream, clasped my knees, and spoke +piteously, saying, ‘Who and whence are you? from what place and people +have you come? How can it be that my drugs have no power to charm you? +Never yet was any man able to stand so much as a taste of the herb I +gave you; you must be spell-proof; surely you can be none other than +the bold hero Ulysses, who Mercury always said would come here some day +with his ship while on his way home from Troy; so be it then; sheathe +your sword and let us go to bed, that we may make friends and learn to +trust each other.’ + +“And I answered, ‘Circe, how can you expect me to be friendly with you +when you have just been turning all my men into pigs? And now that you +have got me here myself, you mean me mischief when you ask me to go to +bed with you, and will unman me and make me fit for nothing. I shall +certainly not consent to go to bed with you unless you will first take +your solemn oath to plot no further harm against me.’ + +“So she swore at once as I had told her, and when she had completed her +oath then I went to bed with her. + +“Meanwhile her four servants, who are her housemaids, set about their +work. They are the children of the groves and fountains, and of the +holy waters that run down into the sea. One of them spread a fair +purple cloth over a seat, and laid a carpet underneath it. Another +brought tables of silver up to the seats, and set them with baskets of +gold. A third mixed some sweet wine with water in a silver bowl and put +golden cups upon the tables, while the fourth brought in water and set +it to boil in a large cauldron over a good fire which she had lighted. +When the water in the cauldron was boiling,87 she poured cold into it +till it was just as I liked it, and then she set me in a bath and began +washing me from the cauldron about the head and shoulders, to take the +tire and stiffness out of my limbs. As soon as she had done washing me +and anointing me with oil, she arrayed me in a good cloak and shirt and +led me to a richly decorated seat inlaid with silver; there was a +footstool also under my feet. A maid servant then brought me water in a +beautiful golden ewer and poured it into a silver basin for me to wash +my hands, and she drew a clean table beside me; an upper servant +brought me bread and offered me many things of what there was in the +house, and then Circe bade me eat, but I would not, and sat without +heeding what was before me, still moody and suspicious. + +“When Circe saw me sitting there without eating, and in great grief, +she came to me and said, ‘Ulysses, why do you sit like that as though +you were dumb, gnawing at your own heart, and refusing both meat and +drink? Is it that you are still suspicious? You ought not to be, for I +have already sworn solemnly that I will not hurt you.’ + +“And I said, ‘Circe, no man with any sense of what is right can think +of either eating or drinking in your house until you have set his +friends free and let him see them. If you want me to eat and drink, you +must free my men and bring them to me that I may see them with my own +eyes.’ + +“When I had said this she went straight through the court with her wand +in her hand and opened the pigstye doors. My men came out like so many +prime hogs and stood looking at her, but she went about among them and +anointed each with a second drug, whereon the bristles that the bad +drug had given them fell off, and they became men again, younger than +they were before, and much taller and better looking. They knew me at +once, seized me each of them by the hand, and wept for joy till the +whole house was filled with the sound of their halloa-ballooing, and +Circe herself was so sorry for them that she came up to me and said, +‘Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, go back at once to the sea where you +have left your ship, and first draw it on to the land. Then, hide all +your ship’s gear and property in some cave, and come back here with +your men.’ + +“I agreed to this, so I went back to the sea shore, and found the men +at the ship weeping and wailing most piteously. When they saw me the +silly blubbering fellows began frisking round me as calves break out +and gambol round their mothers, when they see them coming home to be +milked after they have been feeding all day, and the homestead resounds +with their lowing. They seemed as glad to see me as though they had got +back to their own rugged Ithaca, where they had been born and bred. +‘Sir,’ said the affectionate creatures, ‘we are as glad to see you back +as though we had got safe home to Ithaca; but tell us all about the +fate of our comrades.’ + +“I spoke comfortingly to them and said, ‘We must draw our ship on to +the land, and hide the ship’s gear with all our property in some cave; +then come with me all of you as fast as you can to Circe’s house, where +you will find your comrades eating and drinking in the midst of great +abundance.’ + +“On this the men would have come with me at once, but Eurylochus tried +to hold them back and said, ‘Alas, poor wretches that we are, what will +become of us? Rush not on your ruin by going to the house of Circe, who +will turn us all into pigs or wolves or lions, and we shall have to +keep guard over her house. Remember how the Cyclops treated us when our +comrades went inside his cave, and Ulysses with them. It was all +through his sheer folly that those men lost their lives.’ + +“When I heard him I was in two minds whether or no to draw the keen +blade that hung by my sturdy thigh and cut his head off in spite of his +being a near relation of my own; but the men interceded for him and +said, ‘Sir, if it may so be, let this fellow stay here and mind the +ship, but take the rest of us with you to Circe’s house.’ + +“On this we all went inland, and Eurylochus was not left behind after +all, but came on too, for he was frightened by the severe reprimand +that I had given him. + +“Meanwhile Circe had been seeing that the men who had been left behind +were washed and anointed with olive oil; she had also given them +woollen cloaks and shirts, and when we came we found them all +comfortably at dinner in her house. As soon as the men saw each other +face to face and knew one another, they wept for joy and cried aloud +till the whole palace rang again. Thereon Circe came up to me and said, +‘Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, tell your men to leave off crying; I +know how much you have all of you suffered at sea, and how ill you have +fared among cruel savages on the mainland, but that is over now, so +stay here, and eat and drink till you are once more as strong and +hearty as you were when you left Ithaca; for at present you are +weakened both in body and mind; you keep all the time thinking of the +hardships you have suffered during your travels, so that you have no +more cheerfulness left in you.’ + +“Thus did she speak and we assented. We stayed with Circe for a whole +twelvemonth feasting upon an untold quantity both of meat and wine. But +when the year had passed in the waning of moons and the long days had +come round, my men called me apart and said, ‘Sir, it is time you began +to think about going home, if so be you are to be spared to see your +house and native country at all.’ + +“Thus did they speak and I assented. Thereon through the livelong day +to the going down of the sun we feasted our fill on meat and wine, but +when the sun went down and it came on dark the men laid themselves down +to sleep in the covered cloisters. I, however, after I had got into bed +with Circe, besought her by her knees, and the goddess listened to what +I had got to say. ‘Circe,’ said I, ‘please to keep the promise you made +me about furthering me on my homeward voyage. I want to get back and so +do my men, they are always pestering me with their complaints as soon +as ever your back is turned.’ + +“And the goddess answered, ‘Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, you shall +none of you stay here any longer if you do not want to, but there is +another journey which you have got to take before you can sail +homewards. You must go to the house of Hades and of dread Proserpine to +consult the ghost of the blind Theban prophet Teiresias, whose reason +is still unshaken. To him alone has Proserpine left his understanding +even in death, but the other ghosts flit about aimlessly.’ + +“I was dismayed when I heard this. I sat up in bed and wept, and would +gladly have lived no longer to see the light of the sun, but presently +when I was tired of weeping and tossing myself about, I said, ‘And who +shall guide me upon this voyage—for the house of Hades is a port that +no ship can reach.’ + +“‘You will want no guide,’ she answered; ‘raise your mast, set your +white sails, sit quite still, and the North Wind will blow you there of +itself. When your ship has traversed the waters of Oceanus, you will +reach the fertile shore of Proserpine’s country with its groves of tall +poplars and willows that shed their fruit untimely; here beach your +ship upon the shore of Oceanus, and go straight on to the dark abode of +Hades. You will find it near the place where the rivers Pyriphlegethon +and Cocytus (which is a branch of the river Styx) flow into Acheron, +and you will see a rock near it, just where the two roaring rivers run +into one another. + +“‘When you have reached this spot, as I now tell you, dig a trench a +cubit or so in length, breadth, and depth, and pour into it as a +drink-offering to all the dead, first, honey mixed with milk, then +wine, and in the third place water—sprinkling white barley meal over +the whole. Moreover you must offer many prayers to the poor feeble +ghosts, and promise them that when you get back to Ithaca you will +sacrifice a barren heifer to them, the best you have, and will load the +pyre with good things. More particularly you must promise that +Teiresias shall have a black sheep all to himself, the finest in all +your flocks. + +“‘When you shall have thus besought the ghosts with your prayers, offer +them a ram and a black ewe, bending their heads towards Erebus; but +yourself turn away from them as though you would make towards the +river. On this, many dead men’s ghosts will come to you, and you must +tell your men to skin the two sheep that you have just killed, and +offer them as a burnt sacrifice with prayers to Hades and to +Proserpine. Then draw your sword and sit there, so as to prevent any +other poor ghost from coming near the spilt blood before Teiresias +shall have answered your questions. The seer will presently come to +you, and will tell you about your voyage—what stages you are to make, +and how you are to sail the sea so as to reach your home.’ + +“It was day-break by the time she had done speaking, so she dressed me +in my shirt and cloak. As for herself she threw a beautiful light +gossamer fabric over her shoulders, fastening it with a golden girdle +round her waist, and she covered her head with a mantle. Then I went +about among the men everywhere all over the house, and spoke kindly to +each of them man by man: ‘You must not lie sleeping here any longer,’ +said I to them, ‘we must be going, for Circe has told me all about it.’ +And on this they did as I bade them. + +“Even so, however, I did not get them away without misadventure. We had +with us a certain youth named Elpenor, not very remarkable for sense or +courage, who had got drunk and was lying on the house-top away from the +rest of the men, to sleep off his liquor in the cool. When he heard the +noise of the men bustling about, he jumped up on a sudden and forgot +all about coming down by the main staircase, so he tumbled right off +the roof and broke his neck, and his soul went down to the house of +Hades. + +“When I had got the men together I said to them, ‘You think you are +about to start home again, but Circe has explained to me that instead +of this, we have got to go to the house of Hades and Proserpine to +consult the ghost of the Theban prophet Teiresias.’ + +“The men were broken-hearted as they heard me, and threw themselves on +the ground groaning and tearing their hair, but they did not mend +matters by crying. When we reached the sea shore, weeping and lamenting +our fate, Circe brought the ram and the ewe, and we made them fast hard +by the ship. She passed through the midst of us without our knowing it, +for who can see the comings and goings of a god, if the god does not +wish to be seen? + + + + +BOOK XI + + +THE VISIT TO THE DEAD.88 + + +“Then, when we had got down to the sea shore we drew our ship into the +water and got her mast and sails into her; we also put the sheep on +board and took our places, weeping and in great distress of mind. +Circe, that great and cunning goddess, sent us a fair wind that blew +dead aft and staid steadily with us keeping our sails all the time well +filled; so we did whatever wanted doing to the ship’s gear and let her +go as the wind and helmsman headed her. All day long her sails were +full as she held her course over the sea, but when the sun went down +and darkness was over all the earth, we got into the deep waters of the +river Oceanus, where lie the land and city of the Cimmerians who live +enshrouded in mist and darkness which the rays of the sun never pierce +neither at his rising nor as he goes down again out of the heavens, but +the poor wretches live in one long melancholy night. When we got there +we beached the ship, took the sheep out of her, and went along by the +waters of Oceanus till we came to the place of which Circe had told us. + +“Here Perimedes and Eurylochus held the victims, while I drew my sword +and dug the trench a cubit each way. I made a drink-offering to all the +dead, first with honey and milk, then with wine, and thirdly with +water, and I sprinkled white barley meal over the whole, praying +earnestly to the poor feckless ghosts, and promising them that when I +got back to Ithaca I would sacrifice a barren heifer for them, the best +I had, and would load the pyre with good things. I also particularly +promised that Teiresias should have a black sheep to himself, the best +in all my flocks. When I had prayed sufficiently to the dead, I cut the +throats of the two sheep and let the blood run into the trench, whereon +the ghosts came trooping up from Erebus—brides,89 young bachelors, old +men worn out with toil, maids who had been crossed in love, and brave +men who had been killed in battle, with their armour still smirched +with blood; they came from every quarter and flitted round the trench +with a strange kind of screaming sound that made me turn pale with +fear. When I saw them coming I told the men to be quick and flay the +carcasses of the two dead sheep and make burnt offerings of them, and +at the same time to repeat prayers to Hades and to Proserpine; but I +sat where I was with my sword drawn and would not let the poor feckless +ghosts come near the blood till Teiresias should have answered my +questions. + +“The first ghost that came was that of my comrade Elpenor, for he had +not yet been laid beneath the earth. We had left his body unwaked and +unburied in Circe’s house, for we had had too much else to do. I was +very sorry for him, and cried when I saw him: ‘Elpenor,’ said I, ‘how +did you come down here into this gloom and darkness? You have got here +on foot quicker than I have with my ship.’ + +“‘Sir,’ he answered with a groan, ‘it was all bad luck, and my own +unspeakable drunkenness. I was lying asleep on the top of Circe’s +house, and never thought of coming down again by the great staircase +but fell right off the roof and broke my neck, so my soul came down to +the house of Hades. And now I beseech you by all those whom you have +left behind you, though they are not here, by your wife, by the father +who brought you up when you were a child, and by Telemachus who is the +one hope of your house, do what I shall now ask you. I know that when +you leave this limbo you will again hold your ship for the Aeaean +island. Do not go thence leaving me unwaked and unburied behind you, or +I may bring heaven’s anger upon you; but burn me with whatever armour I +have, build a barrow for me on the sea shore, that may tell people in +days to come what a poor unlucky fellow I was, and plant over my grave +the oar I used to row with when I was yet alive and with my messmates.’ +And I said, ‘My poor fellow, I will do all that you have asked of me.’ + +“Thus, then, did we sit and hold sad talk with one another, I on the +one side of the trench with my sword held over the blood, and the ghost +of my comrade saying all this to me from the other side. Then came the +ghost of my dead mother Anticlea, daughter to Autolycus. I had left her +alive when I set out for Troy and was moved to tears when I saw her, +but even so, for all my sorrow I would not let her come near the blood +till I had asked my questions of Teiresias. + +“Then came also the ghost of Theban Teiresias, with his golden sceptre +in his hand. He knew me and said, ‘Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, why, +poor man, have you left the light of day and come down to visit the +dead in this sad place? Stand back from the trench and withdraw your +sword that I may drink of the blood and answer your questions truly.’ + +“So I drew back, and sheathed my sword, whereon when he had drank of +the blood he began with his prophecy. + +“‘You want to know,’ said he, ‘about your return home, but heaven will +make this hard for you. I do not think that you will escape the eye of +Neptune, who still nurses his bitter grudge against you for having +blinded his son. Still, after much suffering you may get home if you +can restrain yourself and your companions when your ship reaches the +Thrinacian island, where you will find the sheep and cattle belonging +to the sun, who sees and gives ear to everything. If you leave these +flocks unharmed and think of nothing but of getting home, you may yet +after much hardship reach Ithaca; but if you harm them, then I forewarn +you of the destruction both of your ship and of your men. Even though +you may yourself escape, you will return in bad plight after losing all +your men, [in another man’s ship, and you will find trouble in your +house, which will be overrun by high-handed people, who are devouring +your substance under the pretext of paying court and making presents to +your wife. + +“‘When you get home you will take your revenge on these suitors; and +after you have killed them by force or fraud in your own house, you +must take a well made oar and carry it on and on, till you come to a +country where the people have never heard of the sea and do not even +mix salt with their food, nor do they know anything about ships, and +oars that are as the wings of a ship. I will give you this certain +token which cannot escape your notice. A wayfarer will meet you and +will say it must be a winnowing shovel that you have got upon your +shoulder; on this you must fix the oar in the ground and sacrifice a +ram, a bull, and a boar to Neptune.90 Then go home and offer hecatombs +to all the gods in heaven one after the other. As for yourself, death +shall come to you from the sea, and your life shall ebb away very +gently when you are full of years and peace of mind, and your people +shall bless you. All that I have said will come true].’91 + +“‘This,’ I answered, ‘must be as it may please heaven, but tell me and +tell me and tell me true, I see my poor mother’s ghost close by us; she +is sitting by the blood without saying a word, and though I am her own +son she does not remember me and speak to me; tell me, Sir, how I can +make her know me.’ + +“‘That,’ said he, ‘I can soon do. Any ghost that you let taste of the +blood will talk with you like a reasonable being, but if you do not let +them have any blood they will go away again.’ + +“On this the ghost of Teiresias went back to the house of Hades, for +his prophecyings had now been spoken, but I sat still where I was until +my mother came up and tasted the blood. Then she knew me at once and +spoke fondly to me, saying, ‘My son, how did you come down to this +abode of darkness while you are still alive? It is a hard thing for the +living to see these places, for between us and them there are great and +terrible waters, and there is Oceanus, which no man can cross on foot, +but he must have a good ship to take him. Are you all this time trying +to find your way home from Troy, and have you never yet got back to +Ithaca nor seen your wife in your own house?’ + +“‘Mother,’ said I, ‘I was forced to come here to consult the ghost of +the Theban prophet Teiresias. I have never yet been near the Achaean +land nor set foot on my native country, and I have had nothing but one +long series of misfortunes from the very first day that I set out with +Agamemnon for Ilius, the land of noble steeds, to fight the Trojans. +But tell me, and tell me true, in what way did you die? Did you have a +long illness, or did heaven vouchsafe you a gentle easy passage to +eternity? Tell me also about my father, and the son whom I left behind +me, is my property still in their hands, or has some one else got hold +of it, who thinks that I shall not return to claim it? Tell me again +what my wife intends doing, and in what mind she is; does she live with +my son and guard my estate securely, or has she made the best match she +could and married again?’ + +“My mother answered, ‘Your wife still remains in your house, but she is +in great distress of mind and spends her whole time in tears both night +and day. No one as yet has got possession of your fine property, and +Telemachus still holds your lands undisturbed. He has to entertain +largely, as of course he must, considering his position as a +magistrate,92 and how every one invites him; your father remains at his +old place in the country and never goes near the town. He has no +comfortable bed nor bedding; in the winter he sleeps on the floor in +front of the fire with the men and goes about all in rags, but in +summer, when the warm weather comes on again, he lies out in the +vineyard on a bed of vine leaves thrown any how upon the ground. He +grieves continually about your never having come home, and suffers more +and more as he grows older. As for my own end it was in this wise: +heaven did not take me swiftly and painlessly in my own house, nor was +I attacked by any illness such as those that generally wear people out +and kill them, but my longing to know what you were doing and the force +of my affection for you—this it was that was the death of me.’93 + +“Then I tried to find some way of embracing my poor mother’s ghost. +Thrice I sprang towards her and tried to clasp her in my arms, but each +time she flitted from my embrace as it were a dream or phantom, and +being touched to the quick I said to her, ‘Mother, why do you not stay +still when I would embrace you? If we could throw our arms around one +another we might find sad comfort in the sharing of our sorrows even in +the house of Hades; does Proserpine want to lay a still further load of +grief upon me by mocking me with a phantom only?’ + +“‘My son,’ she answered, ‘most ill-fated of all mankind, it is not +Proserpine that is beguiling you, but all people are like this when +they are dead. The sinews no longer hold the flesh and bones together; +these perish in the fierceness of consuming fire as soon as life has +left the body, and the soul flits away as though it were a dream. Now, +however, go back to the light of day as soon as you can, and note all +these things that you may tell them to your wife hereafter.’ + +“Thus did we converse, and anon Proserpine sent up the ghosts of the +wives and daughters of all the most famous men. They gathered in crowds +about the blood, and I considered how I might question them severally. +In the end I deemed that it would be best to draw the keen blade that +hung by my sturdy thigh, and keep them from all drinking the blood at +once. So they came up one after the other, and each one as I questioned +her told me her race and lineage. + +“The first I saw was Tyro. She was daughter of Salmoneus and wife of +Cretheus the son of Aeolus.94 She fell in love with the river Enipeus +who is much the most beautiful river in the whole world. Once when she +was taking a walk by his side as usual, Neptune, disguised as her +lover, lay with her at the mouth of the river, and a huge blue wave +arched itself like a mountain over them to hide both woman and god, +whereon he loosed her virgin girdle and laid her in a deep slumber. +When the god had accomplished the deed of love, he took her hand in his +own and said, ‘Tyro, rejoice in all good will; the embraces of the gods +are not fruitless, and you will have fine twins about this time twelve +months. Take great care of them. I am Neptune, so now go home, but hold +your tongue and do not tell any one.’ + +“Then he dived under the sea, and she in due course bore Pelias and +Neleus, who both of them served Jove with all their might. Pelias was a +great breeder of sheep and lived in Iolcus, but the other lived in +Pylos. The rest of her children were by Cretheus, namely, Aeson, +Pheres, and Amythaon, who was a mighty warrior and charioteer. + +“Next to her I saw Antiope, daughter to Asopus, who could boast of +having slept in the arms of even Jove himself, and who bore him two +sons Amphion and Zethus. These founded Thebes with its seven gates, and +built a wall all round it; for strong though they were they could not +hold Thebes till they had walled it. + +“Then I saw Alcmena, the wife of Amphitryon, who also bore to Jove +indomitable Hercules; and Megara who was daughter to great King Creon, +and married the redoubtable son of Amphitryon. + +“I also saw fair Epicaste mother of king Oedipodes whose awful lot it +was to marry her own son without suspecting it. He married her after +having killed his father, but the gods proclaimed the whole story to +the world; whereon he remained king of Thebes, in great grief for the +spite the gods had borne him; but Epicaste went to the house of the +mighty jailor Hades, having hanged herself for grief, and the avenging +spirits haunted him as for an outraged mother—to his ruing bitterly +thereafter. + +“Then I saw Chloris, whom Neleus married for her beauty, having given +priceless presents for her. She was youngest daughter to Amphion son of +Iasus and king of Minyan Orchomenus, and was Queen in Pylos. She bore +Nestor, Chromius, and Periclymenus, and she also bore that marvellously +lovely woman Pero, who was wooed by all the country round; but Neleus +would only give her to him who should raid the cattle of Iphicles from +the grazing grounds of Phylace, and this was a hard task. The only man +who would undertake to raid them was a certain excellent seer,95 but +the will of heaven was against him, for the rangers of the cattle +caught him and put him in prison; nevertheless when a full year had +passed and the same season came round again, Iphicles set him at +liberty, after he had expounded all the oracles of heaven. Thus, then, +was the will of Jove accomplished. + +“And I saw Leda the wife of Tyndarus, who bore him two famous sons, +Castor breaker of horses, and Pollux the mighty boxer. Both these +heroes are lying under the earth, though they are still alive, for by a +special dispensation of Jove, they die and come to life again, each one +of them every other day throughout all time, and they have the rank of +gods. + +“After her I saw Iphimedeia wife of Aloeus who boasted the embrace of +Neptune. She bore two sons Otus and Ephialtes, but both were short +lived. They were the finest children that were ever born in this world, +and the best looking, Orion only excepted; for at nine years old they +were nine fathoms high, and measured nine cubits round the chest. They +threatened to make war with the gods in Olympus, and tried to set Mount +Ossa on the top of Mount Olympus, and Mount Pelion on the top of Ossa, +that they might scale heaven itself, and they would have done it too if +they had been grown up, but Apollo, son of Leto, killed both of them, +before they had got so much as a sign of hair upon their cheeks or +chin. + +“Then I saw Phaedra, and Procris, and fair Ariadne daughter of the +magician Minos, whom Theseus was carrying off from Crete to Athens, but +he did not enjoy her, for before he could do so Diana killed her in the +island of Dia on account of what Bacchus had said against her. + +“I also saw Maera and Clymene and hateful Eriphyle, who sold her own +husband for gold. But it would take me all night if I were to name +every single one of the wives and daughters of heroes whom I saw, and +it is time for me to go to bed, either on board ship with my crew, or +here. As for my escort, heaven and yourselves will see to it.” + +Here he ended, and the guests sat all of them enthralled and speechless +throughout the covered cloister. Then Arete said to them:— + +“What do you think of this man, O Phaeacians? Is he not tall and good +looking, and is he not clever? True, he is my own guest, but all of you +share in the distinction. Do not be in a hurry to send him away, nor +niggardly in the presents you make to one who is in such great need, +for heaven has blessed all of you with great abundance.” + +Then spoke the aged hero Echeneus who was one of the oldest men among +them, “My friends,” said he, “what our august queen has just said to us +is both reasonable and to the purpose, therefore be persuaded by it; +but the decision whether in word or deed rests ultimately with King +Alcinous.” + +“The thing shall be done,” exclaimed Alcinous, “as surely as I still +live and reign over the Phaeacians. Our guest is indeed very anxious to +get home, still we must persuade him to remain with us until to-morrow, +by which time I shall be able to get together the whole sum that I mean +to give him. As regards his escort it will be a matter for you all, and +mine above all others as the chief person among you.” + +And Ulysses answered, “King Alcinous, if you were to bid me to stay +here for a whole twelve months, and then speed me on my way, loaded +with your noble gifts, I should obey you gladly and it would redound +greatly to my advantage, for I should return fuller-handed to my own +people, and should thus be more respected and beloved by all who see me +when I get back to Ithaca.” + +“Ulysses,” replied Alcinous, “not one of us who sees you has any idea +that you are a charlatan or a swindler. I know there are many people +going about who tell such plausible stories that it is very hard to see +through them, but there is a style about your language which assures me +of your good disposition. Moreover you have told the story of your own +misfortunes, and those of the Argives, as though you were a practiced +bard; but tell me, and tell me true, whether you saw any of the mighty +heroes who went to Troy at the same time with yourself, and perished +there. The evenings are still at their longest, and it is not yet bed +time—go on, therefore, with your divine story, for I could stay here +listening till tomorrow morning, so long as you will continue to tell +us of your adventures.” + +“Alcinous,” answered Ulysses, “there is a time for making speeches, and +a time for going to bed; nevertheless, since you so desire, I will not +refrain from telling you the still sadder tale of those of my comrades +who did not fall fighting with the Trojans, but perished on their +return, through the treachery of a wicked woman. + +“When Proserpine had dismissed the female ghosts in all directions, the +ghost of Agamemnon son of Atreus came sadly up to me, surrounded by +those who had perished with him in the house of Aegisthus. As soon as +he had tasted the blood, he knew me, and weeping bitterly stretched out +his arms towards me to embrace me; but he had no strength nor substance +any more, and I too wept and pitied him as I beheld him. ‘How did you +come by your death,’ said I, ‘King Agamemnon? Did Neptune raise his +winds and waves against you when you were at sea, or did your enemies +make an end of you on the main land when you were cattle-lifting or +sheep-stealing, or while they were fighting in defence of their wives +and city?’ + +“‘Ulysses,’ he answered, ‘noble son of Laertes, I was not lost at sea +in any storm of Neptune’s raising, nor did my foes despatch me upon the +mainland, but Aegisthus and my wicked wife were the death of me between +them. He asked me to his house, feasted me, and then butchered me most +miserably as though I were a fat beast in a slaughter house, while all +around me my comrades were slain like sheep or pigs for the wedding +breakfast, or picnic, or gorgeous banquet of some great nobleman. You +must have seen numbers of men killed either in a general engagement, or +in single combat, but you never saw anything so truly pitiable as the +way in which we fell in that cloister, with the mixing bowl and the +loaded tables lying all about, and the ground reeking with our blood. I +heard Priam’s daughter Cassandra scream as Clytemnestra killed her +close beside me. I lay dying upon the earth with the sword in my body, +and raised my hands to kill the slut of a murderess, but she slipped +away from me; she would not even close my lips nor my eyes when I was +dying, for there is nothing in this world so cruel and so shameless as +a woman when she has fallen into such guilt as hers was. Fancy +murdering her own husband! I thought I was going to be welcomed home by +my children and my servants, but her abominable crime has brought +disgrace on herself and all women who shall come after—even on the good +ones.’ + +“And I said, ‘In truth Jove has hated the house of Atreus from first to +last in the matter of their women’s counsels. See how many of us fell +for Helen’s sake, and now it seems that Clytemnestra hatched mischief +against you too during your absence.’ + +“‘Be sure, therefore,’ continued Agamemnon, ‘and not be too friendly +even with your own wife. Do not tell her all that you know perfectly +well yourself. Tell her a part only, and keep your own counsel about +the rest. Not that your wife, Ulysses, is likely to murder you, for +Penelope is a very admirable woman, and has an excellent nature. We +left her a young bride with an infant at her breast when we set out for +Troy. This child no doubt is now grown up happily to man’s estate,96 +and he and his father will have a joyful meeting and embrace one +another as it is right they should do, whereas my wicked wife did not +even allow me the happiness of looking upon my son, but killed me ere I +could do so. Furthermore I say—and lay my saying to your heart—do not +tell people when you are bringing your ship to Ithaca, but steal a +march upon them, for after all this there is no trusting women. But now +tell me, and tell me true, can you give me any news of my son Orestes? +Is he in Orchomenus, or at Pylos, or is he at Sparta with Menelaus—for +I presume that he is still living.’ + +“And I said, ‘Agamemnon, why do you ask me? I do not know whether your +son is alive or dead, and it is not right to talk when one does not +know.’ + +“As we two sat weeping and talking thus sadly with one another the +ghost of Achilles came up to us with Patroclus, Antilochus, and Ajax +who was the finest and goodliest man of all the Danaans after the son +of Peleus. The fleet descendant of Aeacus knew me and spoke piteously, +saying, ‘Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, what deed of daring will you +undertake next, that you venture down to the house of Hades among us +silly dead, who are but the ghosts of them that can labour no more?’ + +“And I said, ‘Achilles, son of Peleus, foremost champion of the +Achaeans, I came to consult Teiresias, and see if he could advise me +about my return home to Ithaca, for I have never yet been able to get +near the Achaean land, nor to set foot in my own country, but have been +in trouble all the time. As for you, Achilles, no one was ever yet so +fortunate as you have been, nor ever will be, for you were adored by +all us Argives as long as you were alive, and now that you are here you +are a great prince among the dead. Do not, therefore, take it so much +to heart even if you are dead.’ + +“‘Say not a word,’ he answered, ‘in death’s favour; I would rather be a +paid servant in a poor man’s house and be above ground than king of +kings among the dead. But give me news about my son; is he gone to the +wars and will he be a great soldier, or is this not so? Tell me also if +you have heard anything about my father Peleus—does he still rule among +the Myrmidons, or do they show him no respect throughout Hellas and +Phthia now that he is old and his limbs fail him? Could I but stand by +his side, in the light of day, with the same strength that I had when I +killed the bravest of our foes upon the plain of Troy—could I but be as +I then was and go even for a short time to my father’s house, any one +who tried to do him violence or supersede him would soon rue it.’ + +“‘I have heard nothing,’ I answered, ‘of Peleus, but I can tell you all +about your son Neoptolemus, for I took him in my own ship from Scyros +with the Achaeans. In our councils of war before Troy he was always +first to speak, and his judgement was unerring. Nestor and I were the +only two who could surpass him; and when it came to fighting on the +plain of Troy, he would never remain with the body of his men, but +would dash on far in front, foremost of them all in valour. Many a man +did he kill in battle—I cannot name every single one of those whom he +slew while fighting on the side of the Argives, but will only say how +he killed that valiant hero Eurypylus son of Telephus, who was the +handsomest man I ever saw except Memnon; many others also of the +Ceteians fell around him by reason of a woman’s bribes. Moreover, when +all the bravest of the Argives went inside the horse that Epeus had +made, and it was left to me to settle when we should either open the +door of our ambuscade, or close it, though all the other leaders and +chief men among the Danaans were drying their eyes and quaking in every +limb, I never once saw him turn pale nor wipe a tear from his cheek; he +was all the time urging me to break out from the horse—grasping the +handle of his sword and his bronze-shod spear, and breathing fury +against the foe. Yet when we had sacked the city of Priam he got his +handsome share of the prize money and went on board (such is the +fortune of war) without a wound upon him, neither from a thrown spear +nor in close combat, for the rage of Mars is a matter of great chance.’ + +“When I had told him this, the ghost of Achilles strode off across a +meadow full of asphodel, exulting over what I had said concerning the +prowess of his son. + +“The ghosts of other dead men stood near me and told me each his own +melancholy tale; but that of Ajax son of Telamon alone held aloof—still +angry with me for having won the cause in our dispute about the armour +of Achilles. Thetis had offered it as a prize, but the Trojan prisoners +and Minerva were the judges. Would that I had never gained the day in +such a contest, for it cost the life of Ajax, who was foremost of all +the Danaans after the son of Peleus, alike in stature and prowess. + +“When I saw him I tried to pacify him and said, ‘Ajax, will you not +forget and forgive even in death, but must the judgement about that +hateful armour still rankle with you? It cost us Argives dear enough to +lose such a tower of strength as you were to us. We mourned you as much +as we mourned Achilles son of Peleus himself, nor can the blame be laid +on anything but on the spite which Jove bore against the Danaans, for +it was this that made him counsel your destruction—come hither, +therefore, bring your proud spirit into subjection, and hear what I can +tell you.’ + +“He would not answer, but turned away to Erebus and to the other +ghosts; nevertheless, I should have made him talk to me in spite of his +being so angry, or I should have gone on talking to him,97 only that +there were still others among the dead whom I desired to see. + +“Then I saw Minos son of Jove with his golden sceptre in his hand +sitting in judgement on the dead, and the ghosts were gathered sitting +and standing round him in the spacious house of Hades, to learn his +sentences upon them. + +“After him I saw huge Orion in a meadow full of asphodel driving the +ghosts of the wild beasts that he had killed upon the mountains, and he +had a great bronze club in his hand, unbreakable for ever and ever. + +“And I saw Tityus son of Gaia stretched upon the plain and covering +some nine acres of ground. Two vultures on either side of him were +digging their beaks into his liver, and he kept on trying to beat them +off with his hands, but could not; for he had violated Jove’s mistress +Leto as she was going through Panopeus on her way to Pytho. + +“I saw also the dreadful fate of Tantalus, who stood in a lake that +reached his chin; he was dying to quench his thirst, but could never +reach the water, for whenever the poor creature stooped to drink, it +dried up and vanished, so that there was nothing but dry ground—parched +by the spite of heaven. There were tall trees, moreover, that shed +their fruit over his head—pears, pomegranates, apples, sweet figs and +juicy olives, but whenever the poor creature stretched out his hand to +take some, the wind tossed the branches back again to the clouds. + +“And I saw Sisyphus at his endless task raising his prodigious stone +with both his hands. With hands and feet he tried to roll it up to the +top of the hill, but always, just before he could roll it over on to +the other side, its weight would be too much for him, and the pitiless +stone98 would come thundering down again on to the plain. Then he would +begin trying to push it up hill again, and the sweat ran off him and +the steam rose after him. + +“After him I saw mighty Hercules, but it was his phantom only, for he +is feasting ever with the immortal gods, and has lovely Hebe to wife, +who is daughter of Jove and Juno. The ghosts were screaming round him +like scared birds flying all whithers. He looked black as night with +his bare bow in his hands and his arrow on the string, glaring around +as though ever on the point of taking aim. About his breast there was a +wondrous golden belt adorned in the most marvellous fashion with bears, +wild boars, and lions with gleaming eyes; there was also war, battle, +and death. The man who made that belt, do what he might, would never be +able to make another like it. Hercules knew me at once when he saw me, +and spoke piteously, saying, ‘My poor Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, +are you too leading the same sorry kind of life that I did when I was +above ground? I was son of Jove, but I went through an infinity of +suffering, for I became bondsman to one who was far beneath me—a low +fellow who set me all manner of labours. He once sent me here to fetch +the hell-hound—for he did not think he could find anything harder for +me than this, but I got the hound out of Hades and brought him to him, +for Mercury and Minerva helped me.’ + +“On this Hercules went down again into the house of Hades, but I stayed +where I was in case some other of the mighty dead should come to me. +And I should have seen still other of them that are gone before, whom I +would fain have seen—Theseus and Pirithous—glorious children of the +gods, but so many thousands of ghosts came round me and uttered such +appalling cries, that I was panic stricken lest Proserpine should send +up from the house of Hades the head of that awful monster Gorgon. On +this I hastened back to my ship and ordered my men to go on board at +once and loose the hawsers; so they embarked and took their places, +whereon the ship went down the stream of the river Oceanus. We had to +row at first, but presently a fair wind sprang up. + + + + +BOOK XII + + +THE SIRENS, SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS, THE CATTLE OF THE SUN. + + +“After we were clear of the river Oceanus, and had got out into the +open sea, we went on till we reached the Aeaean island where there is +dawn and sun-rise as in other places. We then drew our ship on to the +sands and got out of her on to the shore, where we went to sleep and +waited till day should break. + +“Then, when the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, I sent +some men to Circe’s house to fetch the body of Elpenor. We cut firewood +from a wood where the headland jutted out into the sea, and after we +had wept over him and lamented him we performed his funeral rites. When +his body and armour had been burned to ashes, we raised a cairn, set a +stone over it, and at the top of the cairn we fixed the oar that he had +been used to row with. + +“While we were doing all this, Circe, who knew that we had got back +from the house of Hades, dressed herself and came to us as fast as she +could; and her maid servants came with her bringing us bread, meat, and +wine. Then she stood in the midst of us and said, ‘You have done a bold +thing in going down alive to the house of Hades, and you will have died +twice, to other people’s once; now, then, stay here for the rest of the +day, feast your fill, and go on with your voyage at daybreak tomorrow +morning. In the meantime I will tell Ulysses about your course, and +will explain everything to him so as to prevent your suffering from +misadventure either by land or sea.’ + +“We agreed to do as she had said, and feasted through the livelong day +to the going down of the sun, but when the sun had set and it came on +dark, the men laid themselves down to sleep by the stern cables of the +ship. Then Circe took me by the hand and bade me be seated away from +the others, while she reclined by my side and asked me all about our +adventures. + +“‘So far so good,’ said she, when I had ended my story, ‘and now pay +attention to what I am about to tell you—heaven itself, indeed, will +recall it to your recollection. First you will come to the Sirens who +enchant all who come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close +and hears the singing of the Sirens, his wife and children will never +welcome him home again, for they sit in a green field and warble him to +death with the sweetness of their song. There is a great heap of dead +men’s bones lying all around, with the flesh still rotting off them. +Therefore pass these Sirens by, and stop your men’s ears with wax that +none of them may hear; but if you like you can listen yourself, for you +may get the men to bind you as you stand upright on a cross piece half +way up the mast,99 and they must lash the rope’s ends to the mast +itself, that you may have the pleasure of listening. If you beg and +pray the men to unloose you, then they must bind you faster. + +“‘When your crew have taken you past these Sirens, I cannot give you +coherent directions100 as to which of two courses you are to take; I +will lay the two alternatives before you, and you must consider them +for yourself. On the one hand there are some overhanging rocks against +which the deep blue waves of Amphitrite beat with terrific fury; the +blessed gods call these rocks the Wanderers. Here not even a bird may +pass, no, not even the timid doves that bring ambrosia to Father Jove, +but the sheer rock always carries off one of them, and Father Jove has +to send another to make up their number; no ship that ever yet came to +these rocks has got away again, but the waves and whirlwinds of fire +are freighted with wreckage and with the bodies of dead men. The only +vessel that ever sailed and got through, was the famous Argo on her way +from the house of Aetes, and she too would have gone against these +great rocks, only that Juno piloted her past them for the love she bore +to Jason. + +“‘Of these two rocks the one reaches heaven and its peak is lost in a +dark cloud. This never leaves it, so that the top is never clear not +even in summer and early autumn. No man though he had twenty hands and +twenty feet could get a foothold on it and climb it, for it runs sheer +up, as smooth as though it had been polished. In the middle of it there +is a large cavern, looking West and turned towards Erebus; you must +take your ship this way, but the cave is so high up that not even the +stoutest archer could send an arrow into it. Inside it Scylla sits and +yelps with a voice that you might take to be that of a young hound, but +in truth she is a dreadful monster and no one—not even a god—could face +her without being terror-struck. She has twelve mis-shapen feet, and +six necks of the most prodigious length; and at the end of each neck +she has a frightful head with three rows of teeth in each, all set very +close together, so that they would crunch any one to death in a moment, +and she sits deep within her shady cell thrusting out her heads and +peering all round the rock, fishing for dolphins or dogfish or any +larger monster that she can catch, of the thousands with which +Amphitrite teems. No ship ever yet got past her without losing some +men, for she shoots out all her heads at once, and carries off a man in +each mouth. + +“‘You will find the other rock lie lower, but they are so close +together that there is not more than a bow-shot between them. [A large +fig tree in full leaf101 grows upon it], and under it lies the sucking +whirlpool of Charybdis. Three times in the day does she vomit forth her +waters, and three times she sucks them down again; see that you be not +there when she is sucking, for if you are, Neptune himself could not +save you; you must hug the Scylla side and drive ship by as fast as you +can, for you had better lose six men than your whole crew.’ + +“‘Is there no way,’ said I, ‘of escaping Charybdis, and at the same +time keeping Scylla off when she is trying to harm my men?’ + +“‘You dare devil,’ replied the goddess, ‘you are always wanting to +fight somebody or something; you will not let yourself be beaten even +by the immortals. For Scylla is not mortal; moreover she is savage, +extreme, rude, cruel and invincible. There is no help for it; your best +chance will be to get by her as fast as ever you can, for if you dawdle +about her rock while you are putting on your armour, she may catch you +with a second cast of her six heads, and snap up another half dozen of +your men; so drive your ship past her at full speed, and roar out +lustily to Crataiis who is Scylla’s dam, bad luck to her; she will then +stop her from making a second raid upon you.’ + +“‘You will now come to the Thrinacian island, and here you will see +many herds of cattle and flocks of sheep belonging to the sun-god—seven +herds of cattle and seven flocks of sheep, with fifty head in each +flock. They do not breed, nor do they become fewer in number, and they +are tended by the goddesses Phaethusa and Lampetie, who are children of +the sun-god Hyperion by Neaera. Their mother when she had borne them +and had done suckling them sent them to the Thrinacian island, which +was a long way off, to live there and look after their father’s flocks +and herds. If you leave these flocks unharmed, and think of nothing but +getting home, you may yet after much hardship reach Ithaca; but if you +harm them, then I forewarn you of the destruction both of your ship and +of your comrades; and even though you may yourself escape, you will +return late, in bad plight, after losing all your men.’ + +“Here she ended, and dawn enthroned in gold began to show in heaven, +whereon she returned inland. I then went on board and told my men to +loose the ship from her moorings; so they at once got into her, took +their places, and began to smite the grey sea with their oars. +Presently the great and cunning goddess Circe befriended us with a fair +wind that blew dead aft, and staid steadily with us, keeping our sails +well filled, so we did whatever wanted doing to the ship’s gear, and +let her go as wind and helmsman headed her. + +“Then, being much troubled in mind, I said to my men, ‘My friends, it +is not right that one or two of us alone should know the prophecies +that Circe has made me, I will therefore tell you about them, so that +whether we live or die we may do so with our eyes open. First she said +we were to keep clear of the Sirens, who sit and sing most beautifully +in a field of flowers; but she said I might hear them myself so long as +no one else did. Therefore, take me and bind me to the crosspiece half +way up the mast; bind me as I stand upright, with a bond so fast that I +cannot possibly break away, and lash the rope’s ends to the mast +itself. If I beg and pray you to set me free, then bind me more tightly +still.’ + +“I had hardly finished telling everything to the men before we reached +the island of the two Sirens,102 for the wind had been very favourable. +Then all of a sudden it fell dead calm; there was not a breath of wind +nor a ripple upon the water, so the men furled the sails and stowed +them; then taking to their oars they whitened the water with the foam +they raised in rowing. Meanwhile I look a large wheel of wax and cut it +up small with my sword. Then I kneaded the wax in my strong hands till +it became soft, which it soon did between the kneading and the rays of +the sun-god son of Hyperion. Then I stopped the ears of all my men, and +they bound me hands and feet to the mast as I stood upright on the +cross piece; but they went on rowing themselves. When we had got within +earshot of the land, and the ship was going at a good rate, the Sirens +saw that we were getting in shore and began with their singing. + +“‘Come here,’ they sang, ‘renowned Ulysses, honour to the Achaean name, +and listen to our two voices. No one ever sailed past us without +staying to hear the enchanting sweetness of our song—and he who listens +will go on his way not only charmed, but wiser, for we know all the +ills that the gods laid upon the Argives and Trojans before Troy, and +can tell you everything that is going to happen over the whole world.’ + +“They sang these words most musically, and as I longed to hear them +further I made signs by frowning to my men that they should set me +free; but they quickened their stroke, and Eurylochus and Perimedes +bound me with still stronger bonds till we had got out of hearing of +the Sirens’ voices. Then my men took the wax from their ears and +unbound me. + +“Immediately after we had got past the island I saw a great wave from +which spray was rising, and I heard a loud roaring sound. The men were +so frightened that they loosed hold of their oars, for the whole sea +resounded with the rushing of the waters,103 but the ship stayed where +it was, for the men had left off rowing. I went round, therefore, and +exhorted them man by man not to lose heart. + +“‘My friends,’ said I, ‘this is not the first time that we have been in +danger, and we are in nothing like so bad a case as when the Cyclops +shut us up in his cave; nevertheless, my courage and wise counsel saved +us then, and we shall live to look back on all this as well. Now, +therefore, let us all do as I say, trust in Jove and row on with might +and main. As for you, coxswain, these are your orders; attend to them, +for the ship is in your hands; turn her head away from these steaming +rapids and hug the rock, or she will give you the slip and be over +yonder before you know where you are, and you will be the death of us.’ + +“So they did as I told them; but I said nothing about the awful monster +Scylla, for I knew the men would not go on rowing if I did, but would +huddle together in the hold. In one thing only did I disobey Circe’s +strict instructions—I put on my armour. Then seizing two strong spears +I took my stand on the ship’s bows, for it was there that I expected +first to see the monster of the rock, who was to do my men so much +harm; but I could not make her out anywhere, though I strained my eyes +with looking the gloomy rock all over and over. + +“Then we entered the Straits in great fear of mind, for on the one hand +was Scylla, and on the other dread Charybdis kept sucking up the salt +water. As she vomited it up, it was like the water in a cauldron when +it is boiling over upon a great fire, and the spray reached the top of +the rocks on either side. When she began to suck again, we could see +the water all inside whirling round and round, and it made a deafening +sound as it broke against the rocks. We could see the bottom of the +whirlpool all black with sand and mud, and the men were at their wits +ends for fear. While we were taken up with this, and were expecting +each moment to be our last, Scylla pounced down suddenly upon us and +snatched up my six best men. I was looking at once after both ship and +men, and in a moment I saw their hands and feet ever so high above me, +struggling in the air as Scylla was carrying them off, and I heard them +call out my name in one last despairing cry. As a fisherman, seated, +spear in hand, upon some jutting rock104 throws bait into the water to +deceive the poor little fishes, and spears them with the ox’s horn with +which his spear is shod, throwing them gasping on to the land as he +catches them one by one—even so did Scylla land these panting creatures +on her rock and munch them up at the mouth of her den, while they +screamed and stretched out their hands to me in their mortal agony. +This was the most sickening sight that I saw throughout all my voyages. + +“When we had passed the [Wandering] rocks, with Scylla and terrible +Charybdis, we reached the noble island of the sun-god, where were the +goodly cattle and sheep belonging to the sun Hyperion. While still at +sea in my ship I could bear the cattle lowing as they came home to the +yards, and the sheep bleating. Then I remembered what the blind Theban +prophet Teiresias had told me, and how carefully Aeaean Circe had +warned me to shun the island of the blessed sun-god. So being much +troubled I said to the men, ‘My men, I know you are hard pressed, but +listen while I tell you the prophecy that Teiresias made me, and how +carefully Aeaean Circe warned me to shun the island of the blessed +sun-god, for it was here, she said, that our worst danger would lie. +Head the ship, therefore, away from the island.’ + +“The men were in despair at this, and Eurylochus at once gave me an +insolent answer. ‘Ulysses,’ said he, ‘you are cruel; you are very +strong yourself and never get worn out; you seem to be made of iron, +and now, though your men are exhausted with toil and want of sleep, you +will not let them land and cook themselves a good supper upon this +island, but bid them put out to sea and go faring fruitlessly on +through the watches of the flying night. It is by night that the winds +blow hardest and do so much damage; how can we escape should one of +those sudden squalls spring up from South West or West, which so often +wreck a vessel when our lords the gods are unpropitious? Now, +therefore, let us obey the behests of night and prepare our supper here +hard by the ship; to-morrow morning we will go on board again and put +out to sea.’ + +“Thus spoke Eurylochus, and the men approved his words. I saw that +heaven meant us a mischief and said, ‘You force me to yield, for you +are many against one, but at any rate each one of you must take his +solemn oath that if he meet with a herd of cattle or a large flock of +sheep, he will not be so mad as to kill a single head of either, but +will be satisfied with the food that Circe has given us.’ + +“They all swore as I bade them, and when they had completed their oath +we made the ship fast in a harbour that was near a stream of fresh +water, and the men went ashore and cooked their suppers. As soon as +they had had enough to eat and drink, they began talking about their +poor comrades whom Scylla had snatched up and eaten; this set them +weeping and they went on crying till they fell off into a sound sleep. + +“In the third watch of the night when the stars had shifted their +places, Jove raised a great gale of wind that flew a hurricane so that +land and sea were covered with thick clouds, and night sprang forth out +of the heavens. When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, +appeared, we brought the ship to land and drew her into a cave wherein +the sea-nymphs hold their courts and dances, and I called the men +together in council. + +“‘My friends,’ said I, ‘we have meat and drink in the ship, let us +mind, therefore, and not touch the cattle, or we shall suffer for it; +for these cattle and sheep belong to the mighty sun, who sees and gives +ear to everything.’ And again they promised that they would obey. + +“For a whole month the wind blew steadily from the South, and there was +no other wind, but only South and East.105 As long as corn and wine +held out the men did not touch the cattle when they were hungry; when, +however, they had eaten all there was in the ship, they were forced to +go further afield, with hook and line, catching birds, and taking +whatever they could lay their hands on; for they were starving. One +day, therefore, I went up inland that I might pray heaven to show me +some means of getting away. When I had gone far enough to be clear of +all my men, and had found a place that was well sheltered from the +wind, I washed my hands and prayed to all the gods in Olympus till by +and by they sent me off into a sweet sleep. + +“Meanwhile Eurylochus had been giving evil counsel to the men, ‘Listen +to me,’ said he, ‘my poor comrades. All deaths are bad enough but there +is none so bad as famine. Why should not we drive in the best of these +cows and offer them in sacrifice to the immortal gods? If we ever get +back to Ithaca, we can build a fine temple to the sun-god and enrich it +with every kind of ornament; if, however, he is determined to sink our +ship out of revenge for these horned cattle, and the other gods are of +the same mind, I for one would rather drink salt water once for all and +have done with it, than be starved to death by inches in such a desert +island as this is.’ + +“Thus spoke Eurylochus, and the men approved his words. Now the cattle, +so fair and goodly, were feeding not far from the ship; the men, +therefore, drove in the best of them, and they all stood round them +saying their prayers, and using young oak-shoots instead of +barley-meal, for there was no barley left. When they had done praying +they killed the cows and dressed their carcasses; they cut out the +thigh bones, wrapped them round in two layers of fat, and set some +pieces of raw meat on top of them. They had no wine with which to make +drink-offerings over the sacrifice while it was cooking, so they kept +pouring on a little water from time to time while the inward meats were +being grilled; then, when the thigh bones were burned and they had +tasted the inward meats, they cut the rest up small and put the pieces +upon the spits. + +“By this time my deep sleep had left me, and I turned back to the ship +and to the sea shore. As I drew near I began to smell hot roast meat, +so I groaned out a prayer to the immortal gods. ‘Father Jove,’ I +exclaimed, ‘and all you other gods who live in everlasting bliss, you +have done me a cruel mischief by the sleep into which you have sent me; +see what fine work these men of mine have been making in my absence.’ + +“Meanwhile Lampetie went straight off to the sun and told him we had +been killing his cows, whereon he flew into a great rage, and said to +the immortals, ‘Father Jove, and all you other gods who live in +everlasting bliss, I must have vengeance on the crew of Ulysses’ ship: +they have had the insolence to kill my cows, which were the one thing I +loved to look upon, whether I was going up heaven or down again. If +they do not square accounts with me about my cows, I will go down to +Hades and shine there among the dead.’ + +“‘Sun,’ said Jove, ‘go on shining upon us gods and upon mankind over +the fruitful earth. I will shiver their ship into little pieces with a +bolt of white lightning as soon as they get out to sea.’ + +“I was told all this by Calypso, who said she had heard it from the +mouth of Mercury. + +“As soon as I got down to my ship and to the sea shore I rebuked each +one of the men separately, but we could see no way out of it, for the +cows were dead already. And indeed the gods began at once to show signs +and wonders among us, for the hides of the cattle crawled about, and +the joints upon the spits began to low like cows, and the meat, whether +cooked or raw, kept on making a noise just as cows do. + +“For six days my men kept driving in the best cows and feasting upon +them, but when Jove the son of Saturn had added a seventh day, the fury +of the gale abated; we therefore went on board, raised our masts, +spread sail, and put out to sea. As soon as we were well away from the +island, and could see nothing but sky and sea, the son of Saturn raised +a black cloud over our ship, and the sea grew dark beneath it. We did +not get on much further, for in another moment we were caught by a +terrific squall from the West that snapped the forestays of the mast so +that it fell aft, while all the ship’s gear tumbled about at the bottom +of the vessel. The mast fell upon the head of the helmsman in the +ship’s stern, so that the bones of his head were crushed to pieces, and +he fell overboard as though he were diving, with no more life left in +him. + +“Then Jove let fly with his thunderbolts, and the ship went round and +round, and was filled with fire and brimstone as the lightning struck +it. The men all fell into the sea; they were carried about in the water +round the ship, looking like so many sea-gulls, but the god presently +deprived them of all chance of getting home again. + +“I stuck to the ship till the sea knocked her sides from her keel +(which drifted about by itself) and struck the mast out of her in the +direction of the keel; but there was a backstay of stout ox-thong still +hanging about it, and with this I lashed the mast and keel together, +and getting astride of them was carried wherever the winds chose to +take me. + +“[The gale from the West had now spent its force, and the wind got into +the South again, which frightened me lest I should be taken back to the +terrible whirlpool of Charybdis. This indeed was what actually +happened, for I was borne along by the waves all night, and by sunrise +had reached the rock of Scylla, and the whirlpool. She was then sucking +down the salt sea water,106 but I was carried aloft toward the fig +tree, which I caught hold of and clung on to like a bat. I could not +plant my feet anywhere so as to stand securely, for the roots were a +long way off and the boughs that overshadowed the whole pool were too +high, too vast, and too far apart for me to reach them; so I hung +patiently on, waiting till the pool should discharge my mast and raft +again—and a very long while it seemed. A jury-man is not more glad to +get home to supper, after having been long detained in court by +troublesome cases, than I was to see my raft beginning to work its way +out of the whirlpool again. At last I let go with my hands and feet, +and fell heavily into the sea, hard by my raft on to which I then got, +and began to row with my hands. As for Scylla, the father of gods and +men would not let her get further sight of me—otherwise I should have +certainly been lost.107 + +“Hence I was carried along for nine days till on the tenth night the +gods stranded me on the Ogygian island, where dwells the great and +powerful goddess Calypso. She took me in and was kind to me, but I need +say no more about this, for I told you and your noble wife all about it +yesterday, and I hate saying the same thing over and over again.” + + + + +BOOK XIII + + +ULYSSES LEAVES SCHERIA AND RETURNS TO ITHACA. + + +Thus did he speak, and they all held their peace throughout the covered +cloister, enthralled by the charm of his story, till presently Alcinous +began to speak. + +“Ulysses,” said he, “now that you have reached my house I doubt not you +will get home without further misadventure no matter how much you have +suffered in the past. To you others, however, who come here night after +night to drink my choicest wine and listen to my bard, I would insist +as follows. Our guest has already packed up the clothes, wrought +gold,108 and other valuables which you have brought for his acceptance; +let us now, therefore, present him further, each one of us, with a +large tripod and a cauldron. We will recoup ourselves by the levy of a +general rate; for private individuals cannot be expected to bear the +burden of such a handsome present.” + +Every one approved of this, and then they went home to bed each in his +own abode. When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared they +hurried down to the ship and brought their cauldrons with them. +Alcinous went on board and saw everything so securely stowed under the +ship’s benches that nothing could break adrift and injure the rowers. +Then they went to the house of Alcinous to get dinner, and he +sacrificed a bull for them in honour of Jove who is the lord of all. +They set the steaks to grill and made an excellent dinner, after which +the inspired bard, Demodocus, who was a favourite with every one, sang +to them; but Ulysses kept on turning his eyes towards the sun, as +though to hasten his setting, for he was longing to be on his way. As +one who has been all day ploughing a fallow field with a couple of oxen +keeps thinking about his supper and is glad when night comes that he +may go and get it, for it is all his legs can do to carry him, even so +did Ulysses rejoice when the sun went down, and he at once said to the +Phaeacians, addressing himself more particularly to King Alcinous: + +“Sir, and all of you, farewell. Make your drink-offerings and send me +on my way rejoicing, for you have fulfilled my heart’s desire by giving +me an escort, and making me presents, which heaven grant that I may +turn to good account; may I find my admirable wife living in peace +among friends,109 and may you whom I leave behind me give satisfaction +to your wives and children;110 may heaven vouchsafe you every good +grace, and may no evil thing come among your people.” + +Thus did he speak. His hearers all of them approved his saying and +agreed that he should have his escort inasmuch as he had spoken +reasonably. Alcinous therefore said to his servant, “Pontonous, mix +some wine and hand it round to everybody, that we may offer a prayer to +father Jove, and speed our guest upon his way.” + +Pontonous mixed the wine and handed it to every one in turn; the others +each from his own seat made a drink-offering to the blessed gods that +live in heaven, but Ulysses rose and placed the double cup in the hands +of queen Arete. + +“Farewell, queen,” said he, “henceforward and for ever, till age and +death, the common lot of mankind, lay their hands upon you. I now take +my leave; be happy in this house with your children, your people, and +with king Alcinous.” + +As he spoke he crossed the threshold, and Alcinous sent a man to +conduct him to his ship and to the sea shore. Arete also sent some +maidservants with him—one with a clean shirt and cloak, another to +carry his strong box, and a third with corn and wine. When they got to +the water side the crew took these things and put them on board, with +all the meat and drink; but for Ulysses they spread a rug and a linen +sheet on deck that he might sleep soundly in the stern of the ship. +Then he too went on board and lay down without a word, but the crew +took every man his place and loosed the hawser from the pierced stone +to which it had been bound. Thereon, when they began rowing out to sea, +Ulysses fell into a deep, sweet, and almost deathlike slumber.111 + +The ship bounded forward on her way as a four in hand chariot flies +over the course when the horses feel the whip. Her prow curvetted as it +were the neck of a stallion, and a great wave of dark blue water +seethed in her wake. She held steadily on her course, and even a +falcon, swiftest of all birds, could not have kept pace with her. Thus, +then, she cut her way through the water, carrying one who was as +cunning as the gods, but who was now sleeping peacefully, forgetful of +all that he had suffered both on the field of battle and by the waves +of the weary sea. + +When the bright star that heralds the approach of dawn began to show, +the ship drew near to land.112 Now there is in Ithaca a haven of the +old merman Phorcys, which lies between two points that break the line +of the sea and shut the harbour in. These shelter it from the storms of +wind and sea that rage outside, so that, when once within it, a ship +may lie without being even moored. At the head of this harbour there is +a large olive tree, and at no great distance a fine overarching cavern +sacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads.113 There are mixing bowls +within it and wine-jars of stone, and the bees hive there. Moreover, +there are great looms of stone on which the nymphs weave their robes of +sea purple—very curious to see—and at all times there is water within +it. It has two entrances, one facing North by which mortals can go down +into the cave, while the other comes from the South and is more +mysterious; mortals cannot possibly get in by it, it is the way taken +by the gods. + +Into this harbour, then, they took their ship, for they knew the +place.114 She had so much way upon her that she ran half her own length +on to the shore;115 when, however, they had landed, the first thing +they did was to lift Ulysses with his rug and linen sheet out of the +ship, and lay him down upon the sand still fast asleep. Then they took +out the presents which Minerva had persuaded the Phaeacians to give him +when he was setting out on his voyage homewards. They put these all +together by the root of the olive tree, away from the road, for fear +some passer by116 might come and steal them before Ulysses awoke; and +then they made the best of their way home again. + +But Neptune did not forget the threats with which he had already +threatened Ulysses, so he took counsel with Jove. “Father Jove,” said +he, “I shall no longer be held in any sort of respect among you gods, +if mortals like the Phaeacians, who are my own flesh and blood, show +such small regard for me. I said I would let Ulysses get home when he +had suffered sufficiently. I did not say that he should never get home +at all, for I knew you had already nodded your head about it, and +promised that he should do so; but now they have brought him in a ship +fast asleep and have landed him in Ithaca after loading him with more +magnificent presents of bronze, gold, and raiment than he would ever +have brought back from Troy, if he had had his share of the spoil and +got home without misadventure.” + +And Jove answered, “What, O Lord of the Earthquake, are you talking +about? The gods are by no means wanting in respect for you. It would be +monstrous were they to insult one so old and honoured as you are. As +regards mortals, however, if any of them is indulging in insolence and +treating you disrespectfully, it will always rest with yourself to deal +with him as you may think proper, so do just as you please.” + +“I should have done so at once,” replied Neptune, “if I were not +anxious to avoid anything that might displease you; now, therefore, I +should like to wreck the Phaeacian ship as it is returning from its +escort. This will stop them from escorting people in future; and I +should also like to bury their city under a huge mountain.” + +“My good friend,” answered Jove, “I should recommend you at the very +moment when the people from the city are watching the ship on her way, +to turn it into a rock near the land and looking like a ship. This will +astonish everybody, and you can then bury their city under the +mountain.” + +When earth-encircling Neptune heard this he went to Scheria where the +Phaeacians live, and stayed there till the ship, which was making rapid +way, had got close in. Then he went up to it, turned it into stone, and +drove it down with the flat of his hand so as to root it in the ground. +After this he went away. + +The Phaeacians then began talking among themselves, and one would turn +towards his neighbour, saying, “Bless my heart, who is it that can have +rooted the ship in the sea just as she was getting into port? We could +see the whole of her only a moment ago.” + +This was how they talked, but they knew nothing about it; and Alcinous +said, “I remember now the old prophecy of my father. He said that +Neptune would be angry with us for taking every one so safely over the +sea, and would one day wreck a Phaeacian ship as it was returning from +an escort, and bury our city under a high mountain. This was what my +old father used to say, and now it is all coming true.117 Now therefore +let us all do as I say; in the first place we must leave off giving +people escorts when they come here, and in the next let us sacrifice +twelve picked bulls to Neptune that he may have mercy upon us, and not +bury our city under the high mountain.” When the people heard this they +were afraid and got ready the bulls. + +Thus did the chiefs and rulers of the Phaeacians pray to king Neptune, +standing round his altar; and at the same time118 Ulysses woke up once +more upon his own soil. He had been so long away that he did not know +it again; moreover, Jove’s daughter Minerva had made it a foggy day, so +that people might not know of his having come, and that she might tell +him everything without either his wife or his fellow citizens and +friends recognising him119 until he had taken his revenge upon the +wicked suitors. Everything, therefore, seemed quite different to +him—the long straight tracks, the harbours, the precipices, and the +goodly trees, appeared all changed as he started up and looked upon his +native land. So he smote his thighs with the flat of his hands and +cried aloud despairingly. + +“Alas,” he exclaimed, “among what manner of people am I fallen? Are +they savage and uncivilised or hospitable and humane? Where shall I put +all this treasure, and which way shall I go? I wish I had staid over +there with the Phaeacians; or I could have gone to some other great +chief who would have been good to me and given me an escort. As it is I +do not know where to put my treasure, and I cannot leave it here for +fear somebody else should get hold of it. In good truth the chiefs and +rulers of the Phaeacians have not been dealing fairly by me, and have +left me in the wrong country; they said they would take me back to +Ithaca and they have not done so: may Jove the protector of suppliants +chastise them, for he watches over everybody and punishes those who do +wrong. Still, I suppose I must count my goods and see if the crew have +gone off with any of them.” + +He counted his goodly coppers and cauldrons, his gold and all his +clothes, but there was nothing missing; still he kept grieving about +not being in his own country, and wandered up and down by the shore of +the sounding sea bewailing his hard fate. Then Minerva came up to him +disguised as a young shepherd of delicate and princely mien, with a +good cloak folded double about her shoulders; she had sandals on her +comely feet and held a javelin in her hand. Ulysses was glad when he +saw her, and went straight up to her. + +“My friend,” said he, “you are the first person whom I have met with in +this country; I salute you, therefore, and beg you to be well disposed +towards me. Protect these my goods, and myself too, for I embrace your +knees and pray to you as though you were a god. Tell me, then, and tell +me truly, what land and country is this? Who are its inhabitants? Am I +on an island, or is this the sea board of some continent?” + +Minerva answered, “Stranger, you must be very simple, or must have come +from somewhere a long way off, not to know what country this is. It is +a very celebrated place, and everybody knows it East and West. It is +rugged and not a good driving country, but it is by no means a bad +island for what there is of it. It grows any quantity of corn and also +wine, for it is watered both by rain and dew; it breeds cattle also and +goats; all kinds of timber grow here, and there are watering places +where the water never runs dry; so, sir, the name of Ithaca is known +even as far as Troy, which I understand to be a long way off from this +Achaean country.” + +Ulysses was glad at finding himself, as Minerva told him, in his own +country, and he began to answer, but he did not speak the truth, and +made up a lying story in the instinctive wiliness of his heart. + +“I heard of Ithaca,” said he, “when I was in Crete beyond the seas, and +now it seems I have reached it with all these treasures. I have left as +much more behind me for my children, but am flying because I killed +Orsilochus son of Idomeneus, the fleetest runner in Crete. I killed him +because he wanted to rob me of the spoils I had got from Troy with so +much trouble and danger both on the field of battle and by the waves of +the weary sea; he said I had not served his father loyally at Troy as +vassal, but had set myself up as an independent ruler, so I lay in wait +for him with one of my followers by the road side, and speared him as +he was coming into town from the country. It was a very dark night and +nobody saw us; it was not known, therefore, that I had killed him, but +as soon as I had done so I went to a ship and besought the owners, who +were Phoenicians, to take me on board and set me in Pylos or in Elis +where the Epeans rule, giving them as much spoil as satisfied them. +They meant no guile, but the wind drove them off their course, and we +sailed on till we came hither by night. It was all we could do to get +inside the harbour, and none of us said a word about supper though we +wanted it badly, but we all went on shore and lay down just as we were. +I was very tired and fell asleep directly, so they took my goods out of +the ship, and placed them beside me where I was lying upon the sand. +Then they sailed away to Sidonia, and I was left here in great distress +of mind.” + +Such was his story, but Minerva smiled and caressed him with her hand. +Then she took the form of a woman, fair, stately, and wise, “He must be +indeed a shifty lying fellow,” said she, “who could surpass you in all +manner of craft even though you had a god for your antagonist. Dare +devil that you are, full of guile, unwearying in deceit, can you not +drop your tricks and your instinctive falsehood, even now that you are +in your own country again? We will say no more, however, about this, +for we can both of us deceive upon occasion—you are the most +accomplished counsellor and orator among all mankind, while I for +diplomacy and subtlety have no equal among the gods. Did you not know +Jove’s daughter Minerva—me, who have been ever with you, who kept watch +over you in all your troubles, and who made the Phaeacians take so +great a liking to you? And now, again, I am come here to talk things +over with you, and help you to hide the treasure I made the Phaeacians +give you; I want to tell you about the troubles that await you in your +own house; you have got to face them, but tell no one, neither man nor +woman, that you have come home again. Bear everything, and put up with +every man’s insolence, without a word.” + +And Ulysses answered, “A man, goddess, may know a great deal, but you +are so constantly changing your appearance that when he meets you it is +a hard matter for him to know whether it is you or not. This much, +however, I know exceedingly well; you were very kind to me as long as +we Achaeans were fighting before Troy, but from the day on which we +went on board ship after having sacked the city of Priam, and heaven +dispersed us—from that day, Minerva, I saw no more of you, and cannot +ever remember your coming to my ship to help me in a difficulty; I had +to wander on sick and sorry till the gods delivered me from evil and I +reached the city of the Phaeacians, where you encouraged me and took me +into the town.120 And now, I beseech you in your father’s name, tell me +the truth, for I do not believe I am really back in Ithaca. I am in +some other country and you are mocking me and deceiving me in all you +have been saying. Tell me then truly, have I really got back to my own +country?” + +“You are always taking something of that sort in your head,” replied +Minerva, “and that is why I cannot desert you in your afflictions; you +are so plausible, shrewd and shifty. Any one but yourself on returning +from so long a voyage would at once have gone home to see his wife and +children, but you do not seem to care about asking after them or +hearing any news about them till you have exploited your wife, who +remains at home vainly grieving for you, and having no peace night or +day for the tears she sheds on your behalf. As for my not coming near +you, I was never uneasy about you, for I was certain you would get back +safely though you would lose all your men, and I did not wish to +quarrel with my uncle Neptune, who never forgave you for having blinded +his son.121 I will now, however, point out to you the lie of the land, +and you will then perhaps believe me. This is the haven of the old +merman Phorcys, and here is the olive tree that grows at the head of +it; [near it is the cave sacred to the Naiads;122 here too is the +overarching cavern in which you have offered many an acceptable +hecatomb to the nymphs, and this is the wooded mountain Neritum.” + +As she spoke the goddess dispersed the mist and the land appeared. Then +Ulysses rejoiced at finding himself again in his own land, and kissed +the bounteous soil; he lifted up his hands and prayed to the nymphs, +saying, “Naiad nymphs, daughters of Jove, I made sure that I was never +again to see you, now therefore I greet you with all loving +salutations, and I will bring you offerings as in the old days, if +Jove’s redoubtable daughter will grant me life, and bring my son to +manhood.” + +“Take heart, and do not trouble yourself about that,” rejoined Minerva, +“let us rather set about stowing your things at once in the cave, where +they will be quite safe. Let us see how we can best manage it all.” + +Therewith she went down into the cave to look for the safest hiding +places, while Ulysses brought up all the treasure of gold, bronze, and +good clothing which the Phaeacians had given him. They stowed +everything carefully away, and Minerva set a stone against the door of +the cave. Then the two sat down by the root of the great olive, and +consulted how to compass the destruction of the wicked suitors. + +“Ulysses,” said Minerva, “noble son of Laertes, think how you can lay +hands on these disreputable people who have been lording it in your +house these three years, courting your wife and making wedding presents +to her, while she does nothing but lament your absence, giving hope and +sending encouraging messages123 to every one of them, but meaning the +very opposite of all she says.” + +And Ulysses answered, “In good truth, goddess, it seems I should have +come to much the same bad end in my own house as Agamemnon did, if you +had not given me such timely information. Advise me how I shall best +avenge myself. Stand by my side and put your courage into my heart as +on the day when we loosed Troy’s fair diadem from her brow. Help me now +as you did then, and I will fight three hundred men, if you, goddess, +will be with me.” + +“Trust me for that,” said she, “I will not lose sight of you when once +we set about it, and I imagine that some of those who are devouring +your substance will then bespatter the pavement with their blood and +brains. I will begin by disguising you so that no human being shall +know you; I will cover your body with wrinkles; you shall lose all your +yellow hair; I will clothe you in a garment that shall fill all who see +it with loathing; I will blear your fine eyes for you, and make you an +unseemly object in the sight of the suitors, of your wife, and of the +son whom you left behind you. Then go at once to the swineherd who is +in charge of your pigs; he has been always well affected towards you, +and is devoted to Penelope and your son; you will find him feeding his +pigs near the rock that is called Raven124 by the fountain Arethusa, +where they are fattening on beechmast and spring water after their +manner. Stay with him and find out how things are going, while I +proceed to Sparta and see your son, who is with Menelaus at Lacedaemon, +where he has gone to try and find out whether you are still alive.”125 + +“But why,” said Ulysses, “did you not tell him, for you knew all about +it? Did you want him too to go sailing about amid all kinds of hardship +while others are eating up his estate?” + +Minerva answered, “Never mind about him, I sent him that he might be +well spoken of for having gone. He is in no sort of difficulty, but is +staying quite comfortably with Menelaus, and is surrounded with +abundance of every kind. The suitors have put out to sea and are lying +in wait for him, for they mean to kill him before he can get home. I do +not much think they will succeed, but rather that some of those who are +now eating up your estate will first find a grave themselves.” + +As she spoke Minerva touched him with her wand and covered him with +wrinkles, took away all his yellow hair, and withered the flesh over +his whole body; she bleared his eyes, which were naturally very fine +ones; she changed his clothes and threw an old rag of a wrap about him, +and a tunic, tattered, filthy, and begrimed with smoke; she also gave +him an undressed deer skin as an outer garment, and furnished him with +a staff and a wallet all in holes, with a twisted thong for him to +sling it over his shoulder. + +When the pair had thus laid their plans they parted, and the goddess +went straight to Lacedaemon to fetch Telemachus. + + + + +BOOK XIV + + +ULYSSES IN THE HUT WITH EUMAEUS. + + +Ulysses now left the haven, and took the rough track up through the +wooded country and over the crest of the mountain till he reached the +place where Minerva had said that he would find the swineherd, who was +the most thrifty servant he had. He found him sitting in front of his +hut, which was by the yards that he had built on a site which could be +seen from far. He had made them spacious126 and fair to see, with a +free run for the pigs all round them; he had built them during his +master’s absence, of stones which he had gathered out of the ground, +without saying anything to Penelope or Laertes, and he had fenced them +on top with thorn bushes. Outside the yard he had run a strong fence of +oaken posts, split, and set pretty close together, while inside he had +built twelve styes near one another for the sows to lie in. There were +fifty pigs wallowing in each stye, all of them breeding sows; but the +boars slept outside and were much fewer in number, for the suitors kept +on eating them, and the swineherd had to send them the best he had +continually. There were three hundred and sixty boar pigs, and the +herdsman’s four hounds, which were as fierce as wolves, slept always +with them. The swineherd was at that moment cutting out a pair of +sandals127 from a good stout ox hide. Three of his men were out herding +the pigs in one place or another, and he had sent the fourth to town +with a boar that he had been forced to send the suitors that they might +sacrifice it and have their fill of meat. + +When the hounds saw Ulysses they set up a furious barking and flew at +him, but Ulysses was cunning enough to sit down and loose his hold of +the stick that he had in his hand: still, he would have been torn by +them in his own homestead had not the swineherd dropped his ox hide, +rushed full speed through the gate of the yard and driven the dogs off +by shouting and throwing stones at them. Then he said to Ulysses, “Old +man, the dogs were likely to have made short work of you, and then you +would have got me into trouble. The gods have given me quite enough +worries without that, for I have lost the best of masters, and am in +continual grief on his account. I have to attend swine for other people +to eat, while he, if he yet lives to see the light of day, is starving +in some distant land. But come inside, and when you have had your fill +of bread and wine, tell me where you come from, and all about your +misfortunes.” + +On this the swineherd led the way into the hut and bade him sit down. +He strewed a good thick bed of rushes upon the floor, and on the top of +this he threw the shaggy chamois skin—a great thick one—on which he +used to sleep by night. Ulysses was pleased at being made thus welcome, +and said “May Jove, sir, and the rest of the gods grant you your +heart’s desire in return for the kind way in which you have received +me.” + +To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Stranger, though a still +poorer man should come here, it would not be right for me to insult +him, for all strangers and beggars are from Jove. You must take what +you can get and be thankful, for servants live in fear when they have +young lords for their masters; and this is my misfortune now, for +heaven has hindered the return of him who would have been always good +to me and given me something of my own—a house, a piece of land, a good +looking wife, and all else that a liberal master allows a servant who +has worked hard for him, and whose labour the gods have prospered as +they have mine in the situation which I hold. If my master had grown +old here he would have done great things by me, but he is gone, and I +wish that Helen’s whole race were utterly destroyed, for she has been +the death of many a good man. It was this matter that took my master to +Ilius, the land of noble steeds, to fight the Trojans in the cause of +king Agamemnon.” + +As he spoke he bound his girdle round him and went to the styes where +the young sucking pigs were penned. He picked out two which he brought +back with him and sacrificed. He singed them, cut them up, and spitted +them; when the meat was cooked he brought it all in and set it before +Ulysses, hot and still on the spit, whereon Ulysses sprinkled it over +with white barley meal. The swineherd then mixed wine in a bowl of +ivy-wood, and taking a seat opposite Ulysses told him to begin. + +“Fall to, stranger,” said he, “on a dish of servant’s pork. The fat +pigs have to go to the suitors, who eat them up without shame or +scruple; but the blessed gods love not such shameful doings, and +respect those who do what is lawful and right. Even the fierce +freebooters who go raiding on other people’s land, and Jove gives them +their spoil—even they, when they have filled their ships and got home +again live conscience-stricken, and look fearfully for judgement; but +some god seems to have told these people that Ulysses is dead and gone; +they will not, therefore, go back to their own homes and make their +offers of marriage in the usual way, but waste his estate by force, +without fear or stint. Not a day or night comes out of heaven, but they +sacrifice not one victim nor two only, and they take the run of his +wine, for he was exceedingly rich. No other great man either in Ithaca +or on the mainland is as rich as he was; he had as much as twenty men +put together. I will tell you what he had. There are twelve herds of +cattle upon the main land, and as many flocks of sheep, there are also +twelve droves of pigs, while his own men and hired strangers feed him +twelve widely spreading herds of goats. Here in Ithaca he runs even +large flocks of goats on the far end of the island, and they are in the +charge of excellent goat herds. Each one of these sends the suitors the +best goat in the flock every day. As for myself, I am in charge of the +pigs that you see here, and I have to keep picking out the best I have +and sending it to them.” + +This was his story, but Ulysses went on eating and drinking ravenously +without a word, brooding his revenge. When he had eaten enough and was +satisfied, the swineherd took the bowl from which he usually drank, +filled it with wine, and gave it to Ulysses, who was pleased, and said +as he took it in his hands, “My friend, who was this master of yours +that bought you and paid for you, so rich and so powerful as you tell +me? You say he perished in the cause of King Agamemnon; tell me who he +was, in case I may have met with such a person. Jove and the other gods +know, but I may be able to give you news of him, for I have travelled +much.” + +Eumaeus answered, “Old man, no traveller who comes here with news will +get Ulysses’ wife and son to believe his story. Nevertheless, tramps in +want of a lodging keep coming with their mouths full of lies, and not a +word of truth; every one who finds his way to Ithaca goes to my +mistress and tells her falsehoods, whereon she takes them in, makes +much of them, and asks them all manner of questions, crying all the +time as women will when they have lost their husbands. And you too, old +man, for a shirt and a cloak would doubtless make up a very pretty +story. But the wolves and birds of prey have long since torn Ulysses to +pieces, or the fishes of the sea have eaten him, and his bones are +lying buried deep in sand upon some foreign shore; he is dead and gone, +and a bad business it is for all his friends—for me especially; go +where I may I shall never find so good a master, not even if I were to +go home to my mother and father where I was bred and born. I do not so +much care, however, about my parents now, though I should dearly like +to see them again in my own country; it is the loss of Ulysses that +grieves me most; I cannot speak of him without reverence though he is +here no longer, for he was very fond of me, and took such care of me +that wherever he may be I shall always honour his memory.” + +“My friend,” replied Ulysses, “you are very positive, and very hard of +belief about your master’s coming home again, nevertheless I will not +merely say, but will swear, that he is coming. Do not give me anything +for my news till he has actually come, you may then give me a shirt and +cloak of good wear if you will. I am in great want, but I will not take +anything at all till then, for I hate a man, even as I hate hell fire, +who lets his poverty tempt him into lying. I swear by king Jove, by the +rites of hospitality, and by that hearth of Ulysses to which I have now +come, that all will surely happen as I have said it will. Ulysses will +return in this self same year; with the end of this moon and the +beginning of the next he will be here to do vengeance on all those who +are ill treating his wife and son.” + +To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Old man, you will neither +get paid for bringing good news, nor will Ulysses ever come home; drink +your wine in peace, and let us talk about something else. Do not keep +on reminding me of all this; it always pains me when any one speaks +about my honoured master. As for your oath we will let it alone, but I +only wish he may come, as do Penelope, his old father Laertes, and his +son Telemachus. I am terribly unhappy too about this same boy of his; +he was running up fast into manhood, and bade fare to be no worse man, +face and figure, than his father, but some one, either god or man, has +been unsettling his mind, so he has gone off to Pylos to try and get +news of his father, and the suitors are lying in wait for him as he is +coming home, in the hope of leaving the house of Arceisius without a +name in Ithaca. But let us say no more about him, and leave him to be +taken, or else to escape if the son of Saturn holds his hand over him +to protect him. And now, old man, tell me your own story; tell me also, +for I want to know, who you are and where you come from. Tell me of +your town and parents, what manner of ship you came in, how crew +brought you to Ithaca, and from what country they professed to come—for +you cannot have come by land.” + +And Ulysses answered, “I will tell you all about it. If there were meat +and wine enough, and we could stay here in the hut with nothing to do +but to eat and drink while the others go to their work, I could easily +talk on for a whole twelve months without ever finishing the story of +the sorrows with which it has pleased heaven to visit me. + +“I am by birth a Cretan; my father was a well to do man, who had many +sons born in marriage, whereas I was the son of a slave whom he had +purchased for a concubine; nevertheless, my father Castor son of Hylax +(whose lineage I claim, and who was held in the highest honour among +the Cretans for his wealth, prosperity, and the valour of his sons) put +me on the same level with my brothers who had been born in wedlock. +When, however, death took him to the house of Hades, his sons divided +his estate and cast lots for their shares, but to me they gave a +holding and little else; nevertheless, my valour enabled me to marry +into a rich family, for I was not given to bragging, or shirking on the +field of battle. It is all over now; still, if you look at the straw +you can see what the ear was, for I have had trouble enough and to +spare. Mars and Minerva made me doughty in war; when I had picked my +men to surprise the enemy with an ambuscade I never gave death so much +as a thought, but was the first to leap forward and spear all whom I +could overtake. Such was I in battle, but I did not care about farm +work, nor the frugal home life of those who would bring up children. My +delight was in ships, fighting, javelins, and arrows—things that most +men shudder to think of; but one man likes one thing and another +another, and this was what I was most naturally inclined to. Before the +Achaeans went to Troy, nine times was I in command of men and ships on +foreign service, and I amassed much wealth. I had my pick of the spoil +in the first instance, and much more was allotted to me later on. + +“My house grew apace and I became a great man among the Cretans, but +when Jove counselled that terrible expedition, in which so many +perished, the people required me and Idomeneus to lead their ships to +Troy, and there was no way out of it, for they insisted on our doing +so. There we fought for nine whole years, but in the tenth we sacked +the city of Priam and sailed home again as heaven dispersed us. Then it +was that Jove devised evil against me. I spent but one month happily +with my children, wife, and property, and then I conceived the idea of +making a descent on Egypt, so I fitted out a fine fleet and manned it. +I had nine ships, and the people flocked to fill them. For six days I +and my men made feast, and I found them many victims both for sacrifice +to the gods and for themselves, but on the seventh day we went on board +and set sail from Crete with a fair North wind behind us though we were +going down a river. Nothing went ill with any of our ships, and we had +no sickness on board, but sat where we were and let the ships go as the +wind and steersmen took them. On the fifth day we reached the river +Aegyptus; there I stationed my ships in the river, bidding my men stay +by them and keep guard over them while I sent out scouts to reconnoitre +from every point of vantage. + +“But the men disobeyed my orders, took to their own devices, and +ravaged the land of the Egyptians, killing the men, and taking their +wives and children captive. The alarm was soon carried to the city, and +when they heard the war cry, the people came out at daybreak till the +plain was filled with horsemen and foot soldiers and with the gleam of +armour. Then Jove spread panic among my men, and they would no longer +face the enemy, for they found themselves surrounded. The Egyptians +killed many of us, and took the rest alive to do forced labour for +them. Jove, however, put it in my mind to do thus—and I wish I had died +then and there in Egypt instead, for there was much sorrow in store for +me—I took off my helmet and shield and dropped my spear from my hand; +then I went straight up to the king’s chariot, clasped his knees and +kissed them, whereon he spared my life, bade me get into his chariot, +and took me weeping to his own home. Many made at me with their ashen +spears and tried to kill me in their fury, but the king protected me, +for he feared the wrath of Jove the protector of strangers, who +punishes those who do evil. + +“I stayed there for seven years and got together much money among the +Egyptians, for they all gave me something; but when it was now going on +for eight years there came a certain Phoenician, a cunning rascal, who +had already committed all sorts of villainy, and this man talked me +over into going with him to Phoenicia, where his house and his +possessions lay. I stayed there for a whole twelve months, but at the +end of that time when months and days had gone by till the same season +had come round again, he set me on board a ship bound for Libya, on a +pretence that I was to take a cargo along with him to that place, but +really that he might sell me as a slave and take the money I fetched. I +suspected his intention, but went on board with him, for I could not +help it. + +“The ship ran before a fresh North wind till we had reached the sea +that lies between Crete and Libya; there, however, Jove counselled +their destruction, for as soon as we were well out from Crete and could +see nothing but sea and sky, he raised a black cloud over our ship and +the sea grew dark beneath it. Then Jove let fly with his thunderbolts +and the ship went round and round and was filled with fire and +brimstone as the lightning struck it. The men fell all into the sea; +they were carried about in the water round the ship looking like so +many sea-gulls, but the god presently deprived them of all chance of +getting home again. I was all dismayed. Jove, however, sent the ship’s +mast within my reach, which saved my life, for I clung to it, and +drifted before the fury of the gale. Nine days did I drift but in the +darkness of the tenth night a great wave bore me on to the Thesprotian +coast. There Pheidon king of the Thesprotians entertained me hospitably +without charging me anything at all—for his son found me when I was +nearly dead with cold and fatigue, whereon he raised me by the hand, +took me to his father’s house and gave me clothes to wear. + +“There it was that I heard news of Ulysses, for the king told me he had +entertained him, and shown him much hospitality while he was on his +homeward journey. He showed me also the treasure of gold, and wrought +iron that Ulysses had got together. There was enough to keep his family +for ten generations, so much had he left in the house of king Pheidon. +But the king said Ulysses had gone to Dodona that he might learn Jove’s +mind from the god’s high oak tree, and know whether after so long an +absence he should return to Ithaca openly, or in secret. Moreover the +king swore in my presence, making drink-offerings in his own house as +he did so, that the ship was by the water side, and the crew found, +that should take him to his own country. He sent me off however before +Ulysses returned, for there happened to be a Thesprotian ship sailing +for the wheat-growing island of Dulichium, and he told those in charge +of her to be sure and take me safely to King Acastus. + +“These men hatched a plot against me that would have reduced me to the +very extreme of misery, for when the ship had got some way out from +land they resolved on selling me as a slave. They stripped me of the +shirt and cloak that I was wearing, and gave me instead the tattered +old clouts in which you now see me; then, towards nightfall, they +reached the tilled lands of Ithaca, and there they bound me with a +strong rope fast in the ship, while they went on shore to get supper by +the sea side. But the gods soon undid my bonds for me, and having drawn +my rags over my head I slid down the rudder into the sea, where I +struck out and swam till I was well clear of them, and came ashore near +a thick wood in which I lay concealed. They were very angry at my +having escaped and went searching about for me, till at last they +thought it was no further use and went back to their ship. The gods, +having hidden me thus easily, then took me to a good man’s door—for it +seems that I am not to die yet awhile.” + +To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Poor unhappy stranger, I +have found the story of your misfortunes extremely interesting, but +that part about Ulysses is not right; and you will never get me to +believe it. Why should a man like you go about telling lies in this +way? I know all about the return of my master. The gods one and all of +them detest him, or they would have taken him before Troy, or let him +die with friends around him when the days of his fighting were done; +for then the Achaeans would have built a mound over his ashes and his +son would have been heir to his renown, but now the storm winds have +spirited him away we know not whither. + +“As for me I live out of the way here with the pigs, and never go to +the town unless when Penelope sends for me on the arrival of some news +about Ulysses. Then they all sit round and ask questions, both those +who grieve over the king’s absence, and those who rejoice at it because +they can eat up his property without paying for it. For my own part I +have never cared about asking anyone else since the time when I was +taken in by an Aetolian, who had killed a man and come a long way till +at last he reached my station, and I was very kind to him. He said he +had seen Ulysses with Idomeneus among the Cretans, refitting his ships +which had been damaged in a gale. He said Ulysses would return in the +following summer or autumn with his men, and that he would bring back +much wealth. And now you, you unfortunate old man, since fate has +brought you to my door, do not try to flatter me in this way with vain +hopes. It is not for any such reason that I shall treat you kindly, but +only out of respect for Jove the god of hospitality, as fearing him and +pitying you.” + +Ulysses answered, “I see that you are of an unbelieving mind; I have +given you my oath, and yet you will not credit me; let us then make a +bargain, and call all the gods in heaven to witness it. If your master +comes home, give me a cloak and shirt of good wear, and send me to +Dulichium where I want to go; but if he does not come as I say he will, +set your men on to me, and tell them to throw me from yonder precipice, +as a warning to tramps not to go about the country telling lies.” + +“And a pretty figure I should cut then,” replied Eumaeus, “both now and +hereafter, if I were to kill you after receiving you into my hut and +showing you hospitality. I should have to say my prayers in good +earnest if I did; but it is just supper time and I hope my men will +come in directly, that we may cook something savoury for supper.” + +Thus did they converse, and presently the swineherds came up with the +pigs, which were then shut up for the night in their styes, and a +tremendous squealing they made as they were being driven into them. But +Eumaeus called to his men and said, “Bring in the best pig you have, +that I may sacrifice him for this stranger, and we will take toll of +him ourselves. We have had trouble enough this long time feeding pigs, +while others reap the fruit of our labour.” + +On this he began chopping firewood, while the others brought in a fine +fat five year old boar pig, and set it at the altar. Eumaeus did not +forget the gods, for he was a man of good principles, so the first +thing he did was to cut bristles from the pig’s face and throw them +into the fire, praying to all the gods as he did so that Ulysses might +return home again. Then he clubbed the pig with a billet of oak which +he had kept back when he was chopping the firewood, and stunned it, +while the others slaughtered and singed it. Then they cut it up, and +Eumaeus began by putting raw pieces from each joint on to some of the +fat; these he sprinkled with barley meal, and laid upon the embers; +they cut the rest of the meat up small, put the pieces upon the spits +and roasted them till they were done; when they had taken them off the +spits they threw them on to the dresser in a heap. The swineherd, who +was a most equitable man, then stood up to give every one his share. He +made seven portions; one of these he set apart for Mercury the son of +Maia and the nymphs, praying to them as he did so; the others he dealt +out to the men man by man. He gave Ulysses some slices cut lengthways +down the loin as a mark of especial honour, and Ulysses was much +pleased. “I hope, Eumaeus,” said he, “that Jove will be as well +disposed towards you as I am, for the respect you are showing to an +outcast like myself.” + +To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Eat, my good fellow, and +enjoy your supper, such as it is. God grants this, and withholds that, +just as he thinks right, for he can do whatever he chooses.” + +As he spoke he cut off the first piece and offered it as a burnt +sacrifice to the immortal gods; then he made them a drink-offering, put +the cup in the hands of Ulysses, and sat down to his own portion. +Mesaulius brought them their bread; the swineherd had brought this man +on his own account from among the Taphians during his master’s absence, +and had paid for him with his own money without saying anything either +to his mistress or Laertes. They then laid their hands upon the good +things that were before them, and when they had had enough to eat and +drink, Mesaulius took away what was left of the bread, and they all +went to bed after having made a hearty supper. + +Now the night came on stormy and very dark, for there was no moon. It +poured without ceasing, and the wind blew strong from the West, which +is a wet quarter, so Ulysses thought he would see whether Eumaeus, in +the excellent care he took of him, would take off his own cloak and +give it him, or make one of his men give him one. “Listen to me,” said +he, “Eumaeus and the rest of you; when I have said a prayer I will tell +you something. It is the wine that makes me talk in this way; wine will +make even a wise man fall to singing; it will make him chuckle and +dance and say many a word that he had better leave unspoken; still, as +I have begun, I will go on. Would that I were still young and strong as +when we got up an ambuscade before Troy. Menelaus and Ulysses were the +leaders, but I was in command also, for the other two would have it so. +When we had come up to the wall of the city we crouched down beneath +our armour and lay there under cover of the reeds and thick brushwood +that grew about the swamp. It came on to freeze with a North wind +blowing; the snow fell small and fine like hoar frost, and our shields +were coated thick with rime. The others had all got cloaks and shirts, +and slept comfortably enough with their shields about their shoulders, +but I had carelessly left my cloak behind me, not thinking that I +should be too cold, and had gone off in nothing but my shirt and +shield. When the night was two-thirds through and the stars had shifted +their places, I nudged Ulysses who was close to me with my elbow, and +he at once gave me his ear. + +“‘Ulysses,’ said I, ‘this cold will be the death of me, for I have no +cloak; some god fooled me into setting off with nothing on but my +shirt, and I do not know what to do.’ + +“Ulysses, who was as crafty as he was valiant, hit upon the following +plan: + +“‘Keep still,’ said he in a low voice, ‘or the others will hear you.’ +Then he raised his head on his elbow. + +“‘My friends,’ said he, ‘I have had a dream from heaven in my sleep. We +are a long way from the ships; I wish some one would go down and tell +Agamemnon to send us up more men at once.’ + +“On this Thoas son of Andraemon threw off his cloak and set out running +to the ships, whereon I took the cloak and lay in it comfortably enough +till morning. Would that I were still young and strong as I was in +those days, for then some one of you swineherds would give me a cloak +both out of good will and for the respect due to a brave soldier; but +now people look down upon me because my clothes are shabby.” + +And Eumaeus answered, “Old man, you have told us an excellent story, +and have said nothing so far but what is quite satisfactory; for the +present, therefore, you shall want neither clothing nor anything else +that a stranger in distress may reasonably expect, but to-morrow +morning you have to shake your own old rags about your body again, for +we have not many spare cloaks nor shirts up here, but every man has +only one. When Ulysses’ son comes home again he will give you both +cloak and shirt, and send you wherever you may want to go.” + +With this he got up and made a bed for Ulysses by throwing some +goatskins and sheepskins on the ground in front of the fire. Here +Ulysses lay down, and Eumaeus covered him over with a great heavy cloak +that he kept for a change in case of extraordinarily bad weather. + +Thus did Ulysses sleep, and the young men slept beside him. But the +swineherd did not like sleeping away from his pigs, so he got ready to +go outside, and Ulysses was glad to see that he looked after his +property during his master’s absence. First he slung his sword over his +brawny shoulders and put on a thick cloak to keep out the wind. He also +took the skin of a large and well fed goat, and a javelin in case of +attack from men or dogs. Thus equipped he went to his rest where the +pigs were camping under an overhanging rock that gave them shelter from +the North wind. + + + + +BOOK XV + + +MINERVA SUMMONS TELEMACHUS FROM LACEDAEMON—HE MEETS WITH THEOCLYMENUS +AT PYLOS AND BRINGS HIM TO ITHACA—ON LANDING HE GOES TO THE HUT OF +EUMAEUS. + + +But Minerva went to the fair city of Lacedaemon to tell Ulysses’ son +that he was to return at once. She found him and Pisistratus sleeping +in the forecourt of Menelaus’s house; Pisistratus was fast asleep, but +Telemachus could get no rest all night for thinking of his unhappy +father, so Minerva went close up to him and said: + +“Telemachus, you should not remain so far away from home any longer, +nor leave your property with such dangerous people in your house; they +will eat up everything you have among them, and you will have been on a +fool’s errand. Ask Menelaus to send you home at once if you wish to +find your excellent mother still there when you get back. Her father +and brothers are already urging her to marry Eurymachus, who has given +her more than any of the others, and has been greatly increasing his +wedding presents. I hope nothing valuable may have been taken from the +house in spite of you, but you know what women are—they always want to +do the best they can for the man who marries them, and never give +another thought to the children of their first husband, nor to their +father either when he is dead and done with. Go home, therefore, and +put everything in charge of the most respectable woman servant that you +have, until it shall please heaven to send you a wife of your own. Let +me tell you also of another matter which you had better attend to. The +chief men among the suitors are lying in wait for you in the Strait128 +between Ithaca and Samos, and they mean to kill you before you can +reach home. I do not much think they will succeed; it is more likely +that some of those who are now eating up your property will find a +grave themselves. Sail night and day, and keep your ship well away from +the islands; the god who watches over you and protects you will send +you a fair wind. As soon as you get to Ithaca send your ship and men on +to the town, but yourself go straight to the swineherd who has charge +of your pigs; he is well disposed towards you, stay with him, +therefore, for the night, and then send him to Penelope to tell her +that you have got back safe from Pylos.” + +Then she went back to Olympus; but Telemachus stirred Pisistratus with +his heel to rouse him, and said, “Wake up Pisistratus, and yoke the +horses to the chariot, for we must set off home.”129 + +But Pisistratus said, “No matter what hurry we are in we cannot drive +in the dark. It will be morning soon; wait till Menelaus has brought +his presents and put them in the chariot for us; and let him say good +bye to us in the usual way. So long as he lives a guest should never +forget a host who has shown him kindness.” + +As he spoke day began to break, and Menelaus, who had already risen, +leaving Helen in bed, came towards them. When Telemachus saw him he put +on his shirt as fast as he could, threw a great cloak over his +shoulders, and went out to meet him. “Menelaus,” said he, “let me go +back now to my own country, for I want to get home.” + +And Menelaus answered, “Telemachus, if you insist on going I will not +detain you. I do not like to see a host either too fond of his guest or +too rude to him. Moderation is best in all things, and not letting a +man go when he wants to do so is as bad as telling him to go if he +would like to stay. One should treat a guest well as long as he is in +the house and speed him when he wants to leave it. Wait, then, till I +can get your beautiful presents into your chariot, and till you have +yourself seen them. I will tell the women to prepare a sufficient +dinner for you of what there may be in the house; it will be at once +more proper and cheaper for you to get your dinner before setting out +on such a long journey. If, moreover, you have a fancy for making a +tour in Hellas or in the Peloponnese, I will yoke my horses, and will +conduct you myself through all our principal cities. No one will send +us away empty handed; every one will give us something—a bronze tripod, +a couple of mules, or a gold cup.” + +“Menelaus,” replied Telemachus, “I want to go home at once, for when I +came away I left my property without protection, and fear that while +looking for my father I shall come to ruin myself, or find that +something valuable has been stolen during my absence.” + +When Menelaus heard this he immediately told his wife and servants to +prepare a sufficient dinner from what there might be in the house. At +this moment Eteoneus joined him, for he lived close by and had just got +up; so Menelaus told him to light the fire and cook some meat, which he +at once did. Then Menelaus went down into his fragrant store room,130 +not alone, but Helen went too, with Megapenthes. When he reached the +place where the treasures of his house were kept, he selected a double +cup, and told his son Megapenthes to bring also a silver mixing bowl. +Meanwhile Helen went to the chest where she kept the lovely dresses +which she had made with her own hands, and took out one that was +largest and most beautifully enriched with embroidery; it glittered +like a star, and lay at the very bottom of the chest. 131 Then they all +came back through the house again till they got to Telemachus, and +Menelaus said, “Telemachus, may Jove, the mighty husband of Juno, bring +you safely home according to your desire. I will now present you with +the finest and most precious piece of plate in all my house. It is a +mixing bowl of pure silver, except the rim, which is inlaid with gold, +and it is the work of Vulcan. Phaedimus king of the Sidonians made me a +present of it in the course of a visit that I paid him while I was on +my return home. I should like to give it to you.” + +With these words he placed the double cup in the hands of Telemachus, +while Megapenthes brought the beautiful mixing bowl and set it before +him. Hard by stood lovely Helen with the robe ready in her hand. + +“I too, my son,” said she, “have something for you as a keepsake from +the hand of Helen; it is for your bride to wear upon her wedding day. +Till then, get your dear mother to keep it for you; thus may you go +back rejoicing to your own country and to your home.” + +So saying she gave the robe over to him and he received it gladly. Then +Pisistratus put the presents into the chariot, and admired them all as +he did so. Presently Menelaus took Telemachus and Pisistratus into the +house, and they both of them sat down to table. A maid servant brought +them water in a beautiful golden ewer, and poured it into a silver +basin for them to wash their hands, and she drew a clean table beside +them; an upper servant brought them bread and offered them many good +things of what there was in the house. Eteoneus carved the meat and +gave them each their portions, while Megapenthes poured out the wine. +Then they laid their hands upon the good things that were before them, +but as soon as they had had enough to eat and drink Telemachus and +Pisistratus yoked the horses, and took their places in the chariot. +They drove out through the inner gateway and under the echoing +gatehouse of the outer court, and Menelaus came after them with a +golden goblet of wine in his right hand that they might make a +drink-offering before they set out. He stood in front of the horses and +pledged them, saying, “Farewell to both of you; see that you tell +Nestor how I have treated you, for he was as kind to me as any father +could be while we Achaeans were fighting before Troy.” + +“We will be sure, sir,” answered Telemachus, “to tell him everything as +soon as we see him. I wish I were as certain of finding Ulysses +returned when I get back to Ithaca, that I might tell him of the very +great kindness you have shown me and of the many beautiful presents I +am taking with me.” + +As he was thus speaking a bird flew on his right hand—an eagle with a +great white goose in its talons which it had carried off from the farm +yard—and all the men and women were running after it and shouting. It +came quite close up to them and flew away on their right hands in front +of the horses. When they saw it they were glad, and their hearts took +comfort within them, whereon Pisistratus said, “Tell me, Menelaus, has +heaven sent this omen for us or for you?” + +Menelaus was thinking what would be the most proper answer for him to +make, but Helen was too quick for him and said, “I will read this +matter as heaven has put it in my heart, and as I doubt not that it +will come to pass. The eagle came from the mountain where it was bred +and has its nest, and in like manner Ulysses, after having travelled +far and suffered much, will return to take his revenge—if indeed he is +not back already and hatching mischief for the suitors.” + +“May Jove so grant it,” replied Telemachus, “if it should prove to be +so, I will make vows to you as though you were a god, even when I am at +home.” + +As he spoke he lashed his horses and they started off at full speed +through the town towards the open country. They swayed the yoke upon +their necks and travelled the whole day long till the sun set and +darkness was over all the land. Then they reached Pherae, where Diocles +lived who was son of Ortilochus, the son of Alpheus. There they passed +the night and were treated hospitably. When the child of morning, +rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, they again yoked their horses and their +places in the chariot. They drove out through the inner gateway and +under the echoing gatehouse of the outer court. Then Pisistratus lashed +his horses on and they flew forward nothing loath; ere long they came +to Pylos, and then Telemachus said: + +“Pisistratus, I hope you will promise to do what I am going to ask you. +You know our fathers were old friends before us; moreover, we are both +of an age, and this journey has brought us together still more closely; +do not, therefore, take me past my ship, but leave me there, for if I +go to your father’s house he will try to keep me in the warmth of his +good will towards me, and I must go home at once.” + +Pisistratus thought how he should do as he was asked, and in the end he +deemed it best to turn his horses towards the ship, and put Menelaus’s +beautiful presents of gold and raiment in the stern of the vessel. Then +he said, “Go on board at once and tell your men to do so also before I +can reach home to tell my father. I know how obstinate he is, and am +sure he will not let you go; he will come down here to fetch you, and +he will not go back without you. But he will be very angry.” + +With this he drove his goodly steeds back to the city of the Pylians +and soon reached his home, but Telemachus called the men together and +gave his orders. “Now, my men,” said he, “get everything in order on +board the ship, and let us set out home.” + +Thus did he speak, and they went on board even as he had said. But as +Telemachus was thus busied, praying also and sacrificing to Minerva in +the ship’s stern, there came to him a man from a distant country, a +seer, who was flying from Argos because he had killed a man. He was +descended from Melampus, who used to live in Pylos, the land of sheep; +he was rich and owned a great house, but he was driven into exile by +the great and powerful king Neleus. Neleus seized his goods and held +them for a whole year, during which he was a close prisoner in the +house of king Phylacus, and in much distress of mind both on account of +the daughter of Neleus and because he was haunted by a great sorrow +that dread Erinys had laid upon him. In the end, however, he escaped +with his life, drove the cattle from Phylace to Pylos, avenged the +wrong that had been done him, and gave the daughter of Neleus to his +brother. Then he left the country and went to Argos, where it was +ordained that he should reign over much people. There he married, +established himself, and had two famous sons Antiphates and Mantius. +Antiphates became father of Oicleus, and Oicleus of Amphiaraus, who was +dearly loved both by Jove and by Apollo, but he did not live to old +age, for he was killed in Thebes by reason of a woman’s gifts. His sons +were Alcmaeon and Amphilochus. Mantius, the other son of Melampus, was +father to Polypheides and Cleitus. Aurora, throned in gold, carried off +Cleitus for his beauty’s sake, that he might dwell among the immortals, +but Apollo made Polypheides the greatest seer in the whole world now +that Amphiaraus was dead. He quarrelled with his father and went to +live in Hyperesia, where he remained and prophesied for all men. + +His son, Theoclymenus, it was who now came up to Telemachus as he was +making drink-offerings and praying in his ship. “Friend,” said he, “now +that I find you sacrificing in this place, I beseech you by your +sacrifices themselves, and by the god to whom you make them, I pray you +also by your own head and by those of your followers tell me the truth +and nothing but the truth. Who and whence are you? Tell me also of your +town and parents.” + +Telemachus said, “I will answer you quite truly. I am from Ithaca, and +my father is Ulysses, as surely as that he ever lived. But he has come +to some miserable end. Therefore I have taken this ship and got my crew +together to see if I can hear any news of him, for he has been away a +long time.” + +“I too,” answered Theoclymenus, “am an exile, for I have killed a man +of my own race. He has many brothers and kinsmen in Argos, and they +have great power among the Argives. I am flying to escape death at +their hands, and am thus doomed to be a wanderer on the face of the +earth. I am your suppliant; take me, therefore, on board your ship that +they may not kill me, for I know they are in pursuit.” + +“I will not refuse you,” replied Telemachus, “if you wish to join us. +Come, therefore, and in Ithaca we will treat you hospitably according +to what we have.” + +On this he received Theoclymenus’ spear and laid it down on the deck of +the ship. He went on board and sat in the stern, bidding Theoclymenus +sit beside him; then the men let go the hawsers. Telemachus told them +to catch hold of the ropes, and they made all haste to do so. They set +the mast in its socket in the cross plank, raised it and made it fast +with the forestays, and they hoisted their white sails with sheets of +twisted ox hide. Minerva sent them a fair wind that blew fresh and +strong to take the ship on her course as fast as possible. Thus then +they passed by Crouni and Chalcis. + +Presently the sun set and darkness was over all the land. The vessel +made a quick passage to Pheae and thence on to Elis, where the Epeans +rule. Telemachus then headed her for the flying islands,132 wondering +within himself whether he should escape death or should be taken +prisoner. + +Meanwhile Ulysses and the swineherd were eating their supper in the +hut, and the men supped with them. As soon as they had had to eat and +drink, Ulysses began trying to prove the swineherd and see whether he +would continue to treat him kindly, and ask him to stay on at the +station or pack him off to the city; so he said: + +“Eumaeus, and all of you, to-morrow I want to go away and begin begging +about the town, so as to be no more trouble to you or to your men. Give +me your advice therefore, and let me have a good guide to go with me +and show me the way. I will go the round of the city begging as I needs +must, to see if any one will give me a drink and a piece of bread. I +should like also to go to the house of Ulysses and bring news of her +husband to Queen Penelope. I could then go about among the suitors and +see if out of all their abundance they will give me a dinner. I should +soon make them an excellent servant in all sorts of ways. Listen and +believe when I tell you that by the blessing of Mercury who gives grace +and good name to the works of all men, there is no one living who would +make a more handy servant than I should—to put fresh wood on the fire, +chop fuel, carve, cook, pour out wine, and do all those services that +poor men have to do for their betters.” + +The swineherd was very much disturbed when he heard this. “Heaven help +me,” he exclaimed, “what ever can have put such a notion as that into +your head? If you go near the suitors you will be undone to a +certainty, for their pride and insolence reach the very heavens. They +would never think of taking a man like you for a servant. Their +servants are all young men, well dressed, wearing good cloaks and +shirts, with well looking faces and their hair always tidy, the tables +are kept quite clean and are loaded with bread, meat, and wine. Stay +where you are, then; you are not in anybody’s way; I do not mind your +being here, no more do any of the others, and when Telemachus comes +home he will give you a shirt and cloak and will send you wherever you +want to go.” + +Ulysses answered, “I hope you may be as dear to the gods as you are to +me, for having saved me from going about and getting into trouble; +there is nothing worse than being always on the tramp; still, when men +have once got low down in the world they will go through a great deal +on behalf of their miserable bellies. Since, however, you press me to +stay here and await the return of Telemachus, tell me about Ulysses’ +mother, and his father whom he left on the threshold of old age when he +set out for Troy. Are they still living or are they already dead and in +the house of Hades?” + +“I will tell you all about them,” replied Eumaeus, “Laertes is still +living and prays heaven to let him depart peacefully in his own house, +for he is terribly distressed about the absence of his son, and also +about the death of his wife, which grieved him greatly and aged him +more than anything else did. She came to an unhappy end133 through +sorrow for her son: may no friend or neighbour who has dealt kindly by +me come to such an end as she did. As long as she was still living, +though she was always grieving, I used to like seeing her and asking +her how she did, for she brought me up along with her daughter Ctimene, +the youngest of her children; we were boy and girl together, and she +made little difference between us. When, however, we both grew up, they +sent Ctimene to Same and received a splendid dowry for her. As for me, +my mistress gave me a good shirt and cloak with a pair of sandals for +my feet, and sent me off into the country, but she was just as fond of +me as ever. This is all over now. Still it has pleased heaven to +prosper my work in the situation which I now hold. I have enough to eat +and drink, and can find something for any respectable stranger who +comes here; but there is no getting a kind word or deed out of my +mistress, for the house has fallen into the hands of wicked people. +Servants want sometimes to see their mistress and have a talk with her; +they like to have something to eat and drink at the house, and +something too to take back with them into the country. This is what +will keep servants in a good humour.” + +Ulysses answered, “Then you must have been a very little fellow, +Eumaeus, when you were taken so far away from your home and parents. +Tell me, and tell me true, was the city in which your father and mother +lived sacked and pillaged, or did some enemies carry you off when you +were alone tending sheep or cattle, ship you off here, and sell you for +whatever your master gave them?” + +“Stranger,” replied Eumaeus, “as regards your question: sit still, make +yourself comfortable, drink your wine, and listen to me. The nights are +now at their longest; there is plenty of time both for sleeping and +sitting up talking together; you ought not to go to bed till bed time, +too much sleep is as bad as too little; if any one of the others wishes +to go to bed let him leave us and do so; he can then take my master’s +pigs out when he has done breakfast in the morning. We too will sit +here eating and drinking in the hut, and telling one another stories +about our misfortunes; for when a man has suffered much, and been +buffeted about in the world, he takes pleasure in recalling the memory +of sorrows that have long gone by. As regards your question, then, my +tale is as follows: + +“You may have heard of an island called Syra that lies over above +Ortygia,134 where the land begins to turn round and look in another +direction.135 It is not very thickly peopled, but the soil is good, +with much pasture fit for cattle and sheep, and it abounds with wine +and wheat. Dearth never comes there, nor are the people plagued by any +sickness, but when they grow old Apollo comes with Diana and kills them +with his painless shafts. It contains two communities, and the whole +country is divided between these two. My father Ctesius son of Ormenus, +a man comparable to the gods, reigned over both. + +“Now to this place there came some cunning traders from Phoenicia (for +the Phoenicians are great mariners) in a ship which they had freighted +with gewgaws of all kinds. There happened to be a Phoenician woman in +my father’s house, very tall and comely, and an excellent servant; +these scoundrels got hold of her one day when she was washing near +their ship, seduced her, and cajoled her in ways that no woman can +resist, no matter how good she may be by nature. The man who had +seduced her asked her who she was and where she came from, and on this +she told him her father’s name. ‘I come from Sidon,’ said she, ‘and am +daughter to Arybas, a man rolling in wealth. One day as I was coming +into the town from the country, some Taphian pirates seized me and took +me here over the sea, where they sold me to the man who owns this +house, and he gave them their price for me.’ + +“The man who had seduced her then said, ‘Would you like to come along +with us to see the house of your parents and your parents themselves? +They are both alive and are said to be well off.’ + +“‘I will do so gladly,’ answered she, ‘if you men will first swear me a +solemn oath that you will do me no harm by the way.’ + +“They all swore as she told them, and when they had completed their +oath the woman said, ‘Hush; and if any of your men meets me in the +street or at the well, do not let him speak to me, for fear some one +should go and tell my master, in which case he would suspect something. +He would put me in prison, and would have all of you murdered; keep +your own counsel therefore; buy your merchandise as fast as you can, +and send me word when you have done loading. I will bring as much gold +as I can lay my hands on, and there is something else also that I can +do towards paying my fare. I am nurse to the son of the good man of the +house, a funny little fellow just able to run about. I will carry him +off in your ship, and you will get a great deal of money for him if you +take him and sell him in foreign parts.’ + +“On this she went back to the house. The Phoenicians stayed a whole +year till they had loaded their ship with much precious merchandise, +and then, when they had got freight enough, they sent to tell the +woman. Their messenger, a very cunning fellow, came to my father’s +house bringing a necklace of gold with amber beads strung among it; and +while my mother and the servants had it in their hands admiring it and +bargaining about it, he made a sign quietly to the woman and then went +back to the ship, whereon she took me by the hand and led me out of the +house. In the fore part of the house she saw the tables set with the +cups of guests who had been feasting with my father, as being in +attendance on him; these were now all gone to a meeting of the public +assembly, so she snatched up three cups and carried them off in the +bosom of her dress, while I followed her, for I knew no better. The sun +was now set, and darkness was over all the land, so we hurried on as +fast as we could till we reached the harbour, where the Phoenician ship +was lying. When they had got on board they sailed their ways over the +sea, taking us with them, and Jove sent then a fair wind; six days did +we sail both night and day, but on the seventh day Diana struck the +woman and she fell heavily down into the ship’s hold as though she were +a sea gull alighting on the water; so they threw her overboard to the +seals and fishes, and I was left all sorrowful and alone. Presently the +winds and waves took the ship to Ithaca, where Laertes gave sundry of +his chattels for me, and thus it was that ever I came to set eyes upon +this country.” + +Ulysses answered, “Eumaeus, I have heard the story of your misfortunes +with the most lively interest and pity, but Jove has given you good as +well as evil, for in spite of everything you have a good master, who +sees that you always have enough to eat and drink; and you lead a good +life, whereas I am still going about begging my way from city to city.” + +Thus did they converse, and they had only a very little time left for +sleep, for it was soon daybreak. In the mean time Telemachus and his +crew were nearing land, so they loosed the sails, took down the mast, +and rowed the ship into the harbour.136 They cast out their mooring +stones and made fast the hawsers; they then got out upon the sea shore, +mixed their wine, and got dinner ready. As soon as they had had enough +to eat and drink Telemachus said, “Take the ship on to the town, but +leave me here, for I want to look after the herdsmen on one of my +farms. In the evening, when I have seen all I want, I will come down to +the city, and to-morrow morning in return for your trouble I will give +you all a good dinner with meat and wine.” 137 + +Then Theoclymenus said, “And what, my dear young friend, is to become +of me? To whose house, among all your chief men, am I to repair? or +shall I go straight to your own house and to your mother?” + +“At any other time,” replied Telemachus, “I should have bidden you go +to my own house, for you would find no want of hospitality; at the +present moment, however, you would not be comfortable there, for I +shall be away, and my mother will not see you; she does not often show +herself even to the suitors, but sits at her loom weaving in an upper +chamber, out of their way; but I can tell you a man whose house you can +go to—I mean Eurymachus the son of Polybus, who is held in the highest +estimation by every one in Ithaca. He is much the best man and the most +persistent wooer, of all those who are paying court to my mother and +trying to take Ulysses’ place. Jove, however, in heaven alone knows +whether or no they will come to a bad end before the marriage takes +place.” + +As he was speaking a bird flew by upon his right hand—a hawk, Apollo’s +messenger. It held a dove in its talons, and the feathers, as it tore +them off,138 fell to the ground midway between Telemachus and the ship. +On this Theoclymenus called him apart and caught him by the hand. +“Telemachus,” said he, “that bird did not fly on your right hand +without having been sent there by some god. As soon as I saw it I knew +it was an omen; it means that you will remain powerful and that there +will be no house in Ithaca more royal than your own.” + +“I wish it may prove so,” answered Telemachus. “If it does, I will show +you so much good will and give you so many presents that all who meet +you will congratulate you.” + +Then he said to his friend Piraeus, “Piraeus, son of Clytius, you have +throughout shown yourself the most willing to serve me of all those who +have accompanied me to Pylos; I wish you would take this stranger to +your own house and entertain him hospitably till I can come for him.” + +And Piraeus answered, “Telemachus, you may stay away as long as you +please, but I will look after him for you, and he shall find no lack of +hospitality.” + +As he spoke he went on board, and bade the others do so also and loose +the hawsers, so they took their places in the ship. But Telemachus +bound on his sandals, and took a long and doughty spear with a head of +sharpened bronze from the deck of the ship. Then they loosed the +hawsers, thrust the ship off from land, and made on towards the city as +they had been told to do, while Telemachus strode on as fast as he +could, till he reached the homestead where his countless herds of swine +were feeding, and where dwelt the excellent swineherd, who was so +devoted a servant to his master. + + + + +BOOK XVI + + +ULYSSES REVEALS HIMSELF TO TELEMACHUS. + + +Meanwhile Ulysses and the swineherd had lit a fire in the hut and were +were getting breakfast ready at daybreak, for they had sent the men out +with the pigs. When Telemachus came up, the dogs did not bark but +fawned upon him, so Ulysses, hearing the sound of feet and noticing +that the dogs did not bark, said to Eumaeus: + +“Eumaeus, I hear footsteps; I suppose one of your men or some one of +your acquaintance is coming here, for the dogs are fawning upon him and +not barking.” + +The words were hardly out of his mouth before his son stood at the +door. Eumaeus sprang to his feet, and the bowls in which he was mixing +wine fell from his hands, as he made towards his master. He kissed his +head and both his beautiful eyes, and wept for joy. A father could not +be more delighted at the return of an only son, the child of his old +age, after ten years’ absence in a foreign country and after having +gone through much hardship. He embraced him, kissed him all over as +though he had come back from the dead, and spoke fondly to him saying: + +“So you are come, Telemachus, light of my eyes that you are. When I +heard you had gone to Pylos I made sure I was never going to see you +any more. Come in, my dear child, and sit down, that I may have a good +look at you now you are home again; it is not very often you come into +the country to see us herdsmen; you stick pretty close to the town +generally. I suppose you think it better to keep an eye on what the +suitors are doing.” + +“So be it, old friend,” answered Telemachus, “but I am come now because +I want to see you, and to learn whether my mother is still at her old +home or whether some one else has married her, so that the bed of +Ulysses is without bedding and covered with cobwebs.” + +“She is still at the house,” replied Eumaeus, “grieving and breaking +her heart, and doing nothing but weep, both night and day continually.” + +As he spoke he took Telemachus’ spear, whereon he crossed the stone +threshold and came inside. Ulysses rose from his seat to give him place +as he entered, but Telemachus checked him; “Sit down, stranger,” said +he, “I can easily find another seat, and there is one here who will lay +it for me.” + +Ulysses went back to his own place, and Eumaeus strewed some green +brushwood on the floor and threw a sheepskin on top of it for +Telemachus to sit upon. Then the swineherd brought them platters of +cold meat, the remains from what they had eaten the day before, and he +filled the bread baskets with bread as fast as he could. He mixed wine +also in bowls of ivy-wood, and took his seat facing Ulysses. Then they +laid their hands on the good things that were before them, and as soon +as they had had enough to eat and drink Telemachus said to Eumaeus, +“Old friend, where does this stranger come from? How did his crew bring +him to Ithaca, and who were they?—for assuredly he did not come here by +land.” + +To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “My son, I will tell you the +real truth. He says he is a Cretan, and that he has been a great +traveller. At this moment he is running away from a Thesprotian ship, +and has taken refuge at my station, so I will put him into your hands. +Do whatever you like with him, only remember that he is your +suppliant.” + +“I am very much distressed,” said Telemachus, “by what you have just +told me. How can I take this stranger into my house? I am as yet young, +and am not strong enough to hold my own if any man attacks me. My +mother cannot make up her mind whether to stay where she is and look +after the house out of respect for public opinion and the memory of her +husband, or whether the time is now come for her to take the best man +of those who are wooing her, and the one who will make her the most +advantageous offer; still, as the stranger has come to your station I +will find him a cloak and shirt of good wear, with a sword and sandals, +and will send him wherever he wants to go. Or if you like you can keep +him here at the station, and I will send him clothes and food that he +may be no burden on you and on your men; but I will not have him go +near the suitors, for they are very insolent, and are sure to ill treat +him in a way that would greatly grieve me; no matter how valiant a man +may be he can do nothing against numbers, for they will be too strong +for him.” + +Then Ulysses said, “Sir, it is right that I should say something +myself. I am much shocked about what you have said about the insolent +way in which the suitors are behaving in despite of such a man as you +are. Tell me, do you submit to such treatment tamely, or has some god +set your people against you? May you not complain of your brothers—for +it is to these that a man may look for support, however great his +quarrel may be? I wish I were as young as you are and in my present +mind; if I were son to Ulysses, or, indeed, Ulysses himself, I would +rather some one came and cut my head off, but I would go to the house +and be the bane of every one of these men.139 If they were too many for +me—I being single-handed—I would rather die fighting in my own house +than see such disgraceful sights day after day, strangers grossly +maltreated, and men dragging the women servants about the house in an +unseemly way, wine drawn recklessly, and bread wasted all to no purpose +for an end that shall never be accomplished.” + +And Telemachus answered, “I will tell you truly everything. There is no +enmity between me and my people, nor can I complain of brothers, to +whom a man may look for support however great his quarrel may be. Jove +has made us a race of only sons. Laertes was the only son of Arceisius, +and Ulysses only son of Laertes. I am myself the only son of Ulysses +who left me behind him when he went away, so that I have never been of +any use to him. Hence it comes that my house is in the hands of +numberless marauders; for the chiefs from all the neighbouring islands, +Dulichium, Same, Zacynthus, as also all the principal men of Ithaca +itself, are eating up my house under the pretext of paying court to my +mother, who will neither say point blank that she will not marry, nor +yet bring matters to an end, so they are making havoc of my estate, and +before long will do so with myself into the bargain. The issue, +however, rests with heaven. But do you, old friend Eumaeus, go at once +and tell Penelope that I am safe and have returned from Pylos. Tell it +to herself alone, and then come back here without letting any one else +know, for there are many who are plotting mischief against me.” + +“I understand and heed you,” replied Eumaeus; “you need instruct me no +further, only as I am going that way say whether I had not better let +poor Laertes know that you are returned. He used to superintend the +work on his farm in spite of his bitter sorrow about Ulysses, and he +would eat and drink at will along with his servants; but they tell me +that from the day on which you set out for Pylos he has neither eaten +nor drunk as he ought to do, nor does he look after his farm, but sits +weeping and wasting the flesh from off his bones.” + +“More’s the pity,” answered Telemachus, “I am sorry for him, but we +must leave him to himself just now. If people could have everything +their own way, the first thing I should choose would be the return of +my father; but go, and give your message; then make haste back again, +and do not turn out of your way to tell Laertes. Tell my mother to send +one of her women secretly with the news at once, and let him hear it +from her.” + +Thus did he urge the swineherd; Eumaeus, therefore, took his sandals, +bound them to his feet, and started for the town. Minerva watched him +well off the station, and then came up to it in the form of a +woman—fair, stately, and wise. She stood against the side of the entry, +and revealed herself to Ulysses, but Telemachus could not see her, and +knew not that she was there, for the gods do not let themselves be seen +by everybody. Ulysses saw her, and so did the dogs, for they did not +bark, but went scared and whining off to the other side of the yards. +She nodded her head and motioned to Ulysses with her eyebrows; whereon +he left the hut and stood before her outside the main wall of the +yards. Then she said to him: + +“Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, it is now time for you to tell your +son: do not keep him in the dark any longer, but lay your plans for the +destruction of the suitors, and then make for the town. I will not be +long in joining you, for I too am eager for the fray.” + +As she spoke she touched him with her golden wand. First she threw a +fair clean shirt and cloak about his shoulders; then she made him +younger and of more imposing presence; she gave him back his colour, +filled out his cheeks, and let his beard become dark again. Then she +went away and Ulysses came back inside the hut. His son was astounded +when he saw him, and turned his eyes away for fear he might be looking +upon a god. + +“Stranger,” said he, “how suddenly you have changed from what you were +a moment or two ago. You are dressed differently and your colour is not +the same. Are you some one or other of the gods that live in heaven? If +so, be propitious to me till I can make you due sacrifice and offerings +of wrought gold. Have mercy upon me.” + +And Ulysses said, “I am no god, why should you take me for one? I am +your father, on whose account you grieve and suffer so much at the +hands of lawless men.” + +As he spoke he kissed his son, and a tear fell from his cheek on to the +ground, for he had restrained all tears till now. But Telemachus could +not yet believe that it was his father, and said: + +“You are not my father, but some god is flattering me with vain hopes +that I may grieve the more hereafter; no mortal man could of himself +contrive to do as you have been doing, and make yourself old and young +at a moment’s notice, unless a god were with him. A second ago you were +old and all in rags, and now you are like some god come down from +heaven.” + +Ulysses answered, “Telemachus, you ought not to be so immeasurably +astonished at my being really here. There is no other Ulysses who will +come hereafter. Such as I am, it is I, who after long wandering and +much hardship have got home in the twentieth year to my own country. +What you wonder at is the work of the redoubtable goddess Minerva, who +does with me whatever she will, for she can do what she pleases. At one +moment she makes me like a beggar, and the next I am a young man with +good clothes on my back; it is an easy matter for the gods who live in +heaven to make any man look either rich or poor.” + +As he spoke he sat down, and Telemachus threw his arms about his father +and wept. They were both so much moved that they cried aloud like +eagles or vultures with crooked talons that have been robbed of their +half fledged young by peasants. Thus piteously did they weep, and the +sun would have gone down upon their mourning if Telemachus had not +suddenly said, “In what ship, my dear father, did your crew bring you +to Ithaca? Of what nation did they declare themselves to be—for you +cannot have come by land?” + +“I will tell you the truth, my son,” replied Ulysses. “It was the +Phaeacians who brought me here. They are great sailors, and are in the +habit of giving escorts to any one who reaches their coasts. They took +me over the sea while I was fast asleep, and landed me in Ithaca, after +giving me many presents in bronze, gold, and raiment. These things by +heaven’s mercy are lying concealed in a cave, and I am now come here on +the suggestion of Minerva that we may consult about killing our +enemies. First, therefore, give me a list of the suitors, with their +number, that I may learn who, and how many, they are. I can then turn +the matter over in my mind, and see whether we two can fight the whole +body of them ourselves, or whether we must find others to help us.” + +To this Telemachus answered, “Father, I have always heard of your +renown both in the field and in council, but the task you talk of is a +very great one: I am awed at the mere thought of it; two men cannot +stand against many and brave ones. There are not ten suitors only, nor +twice ten, but ten many times over; you shall learn their number at +once. There are fifty-two chosen youths from Dulichium, and they have +six servants; from Same there are twenty-four; twenty young Achaeans +from Zacynthus, and twelve from Ithaca itself, all of them well born. +They have with them a servant Medon, a bard, and two men who can carve +at table. If we face such numbers as this, you may have bitter cause to +rue your coming, and your revenge. See whether you cannot think of some +one who would be willing to come and help us.” + +“Listen to me,” replied Ulysses, “and think whether Minerva and her +father Jove may seem sufficient, or whether I am to try and find some +one else as well.” + +“Those whom you have named,” answered Telemachus, “are a couple of good +allies, for though they dwell high up among the clouds they have power +over both gods and men.” + +“These two,” continued Ulysses, “will not keep long out of the fray, +when the suitors and we join fight in my house. Now, therefore, return +home early to-morrow morning, and go about among the suitors as before. +Later on the swineherd will bring me to the city disguised as a +miserable old beggar. If you see them ill treating me, steel your heart +against my sufferings; even though they drag me feet foremost out of +the house, or throw things at me, look on and do nothing beyond gently +trying to make them behave more reasonably; but they will not listen to +you, for the day of their reckoning is at hand. Furthermore I say, and +lay my saying to your heart; when Minerva shall put it in my mind, I +will nod my head to you, and on seeing me do this you must collect all +the armour that is in the house and hide it in the strong store room. +Make some excuse when the suitors ask you why you are removing it; say +that you have taken it to be out of the way of the smoke, inasmuch as +it is no longer what it was when Ulysses went away, but has become +soiled and begrimed with soot. Add to this more particularly that you +are afraid Jove may set them on to quarrel over their wine, and that +they may do each other some harm which may disgrace both banquet and +wooing, for the sight of arms sometimes tempts people to use them. But +leave a sword and a spear apiece for yourself and me, and a couple of +oxhide shields so that we can snatch them up at any moment; Jove and +Minerva will then soon quiet these people. There is also another +matter; if you are indeed my son and my blood runs in your veins, let +no one know that Ulysses is within the house—neither Laertes, nor yet +the swineherd, nor any of the servants, nor even Penelope herself. Let +you and me exploit the women alone, and let us also make trial of some +other of the men servants, to see who is on our side and whose hand is +against us.” + +“Father,” replied Telemachus, “you will come to know me by and by, and +when you do you will find that I can keep your counsel. I do not think, +however, the plan you propose will turn out well for either of us. +Think it over. It will take us a long time to go the round of the farms +and exploit the men, and all the time the suitors will be wasting your +estate with impunity and without compunction. Prove the women by all +means, to see who are disloyal and who guiltless, but I am not in +favour of going round and trying the men. We can attend to that later +on, if you really have some sign from Jove that he will support you.” + +Thus did they converse, and meanwhile the ship which had brought +Telemachus and his crew from Pylos had reached the town of Ithaca. When +they had come inside the harbour they drew the ship on to the land; +their servants came and took their armour from them, and they left all +the presents at the house of Clytius. Then they sent a servant to tell +Penelope that Telemachus had gone into the country, but had sent the +ship to the town to prevent her from being alarmed and made unhappy. +This servant and Eumaeus happened to meet when they were both on the +same errand of going to tell Penelope. When they reached the House, the +servant stood up and said to the queen in the presence of the waiting +women, “Your son, Madam, is now returned from Pylos”; but Eumaeus went +close up to Penelope, and said privately all that her son had bidden +him tell her. When he had given his message he left the house with its +outbuildings and went back to his pigs again. + +The suitors were surprised and angry at what had happened, so they went +outside the great wall that ran round the outer court, and held a +council near the main entrance. Eurymachus, son of Polybus, was the +first to speak. + +“My friends,” said he, “this voyage of Telemachus’s is a very serious +matter; we had made sure that it would come to nothing. Now, however, +let us draw a ship into the water, and get a crew together to send +after the others and tell them to come back as fast as they can.” + +He had hardly done speaking when Amphinomus turned in his place and saw +the ship inside the harbour, with the crew lowering her sails, and +putting by their oars; so he laughed, and said to the others, “We need +not send them any message, for they are here. Some god must have told +them, or else they saw the ship go by, and could not overtake her.” + +On this they rose and went to the water side. The crew then drew the +ship on shore; their servants took their armour from them, and they +went up in a body to the place of assembly, but they would not let any +one old or young sit along with them, and Antinous, son of Eupeithes, +spoke first. + +“Good heavens,” said he, “see how the gods have saved this man from +destruction. We kept a succession of scouts upon the headlands all day +long, and when the sun was down we never went on shore to sleep, but +waited in the ship all night till morning in the hope of capturing and +killing him; but some god has conveyed him home in spite of us. Let us +consider how we can make an end of him. He must not escape us; our +affair is never likely to come off while he is alive, for he is very +shrewd, and public feeling is by no means all on our side. We must make +haste before he can call the Achaeans in assembly; he will lose no time +in doing so, for he will be furious with us, and will tell all the +world how we plotted to kill him, but failed to take him. The people +will not like this when they come to know of it; we must see that they +do us no hurt, nor drive us from our own country into exile. Let us try +and lay hold of him either on his farm away from the town, or on the +road hither. Then we can divide up his property amongst us, and let his +mother and the man who marries her have the house. If this does not +please you, and you wish Telemachus to live on and hold his father’s +property, then we must not gather here and eat up his goods in this +way, but must make our offers to Penelope each from his own house, and +she can marry the man who will give the most for her, and whose lot it +is to win her.” + +They all held their peace until Amphinomus rose to speak. He was the +son of Nisus, who was son to king Aretias, and he was foremost among +all the suitors from the wheat-growing and well grassed island of +Dulichium; his conversation, moreover, was more agreeable to Penelope +than that of any of the other suitors, for he was a man of good natural +disposition. “My friends,” said he, speaking to them plainly and in all +honestly, “I am not in favour of killing Telemachus. It is a heinous +thing to kill one who is of noble blood. Let us first take counsel of +the gods, and if the oracles of Jove advise it, I will both help to +kill him myself, and will urge everyone else to do so; but if they +dissuade us, I would have you hold your hands.” + +Thus did he speak, and his words pleased them well, so they rose +forthwith and went to the house of Ulysses, where they took their +accustomed seats. + +Then Penelope resolved that she would show herself to the suitors. She +knew of the plot against Telemachus, for the servant Medon had +overheard their counsels and had told her; she went down therefore to +the court attended by her maidens, and when she reached the suitors she +stood by one of the bearing-posts supporting the roof of the cloister +holding a veil before her face, and rebuked Antinous saying: + +“Antinous, insolent and wicked schemer, they say you are the best +speaker and counsellor of any man your own age in Ithaca, but you are +nothing of the kind. Madman, why should you try to compass the death of +Telemachus, and take no heed of suppliants, whose witness is Jove +himself? It is not right for you to plot thus against one another. Do +you not remember how your father fled to this house in fear of the +people, who were enraged against him for having gone with some Taphian +pirates and plundered the Thesprotians who were at peace with us? They +wanted to tear him in pieces and eat up everything he had, but Ulysses +stayed their hands although they were infuriated, and now you devour +his property without paying for it, and break my heart by wooing his +wife and trying to kill his son. Leave off doing so, and stop the +others also.” + +To this Eurymachus son of Polybus answered, “Take heart, Queen Penelope +daughter of Icarius, and do not trouble yourself about these matters. +The man is not yet born, nor never will be, who shall lay hands upon +your son Telemachus, while I yet live to look upon the face of the +earth. I say—and it shall surely be—that my spear shall be reddened +with his blood; for many a time has Ulysses taken me on his knees, held +wine up to my lips to drink, and put pieces of meat into my hands. +Therefore Telemachus is much the dearest friend I have, and has nothing +to fear from the hands of us suitors. Of course, if death comes to him +from the gods, he cannot escape it.” He said this to quiet her, but in +reality he was plotting against Telemachus. + +Then Penelope went upstairs again and mourned her husband till Minerva +shed sleep over her eyes. In the evening Eumaeus got back to Ulysses +and his son, who had just sacrificed a young pig of a year old and were +helping one another to get supper ready; Minerva therefore came up to +Ulysses, turned him into an old man with a stroke of her wand, and clad +him in his old clothes again, for fear that the swineherd might +recognise him and not keep the secret, but go and tell Penelope. + +Telemachus was the first to speak. “So you have got back, Eumaeus,” +said he. “What is the news of the town? Have the suitors returned, or +are they still waiting over yonder, to take me on my way home?” + +“I did not think of asking about that,” replied Eumaeus, “when I was in +the town. I thought I would give my message and come back as soon as I +could. I met a man sent by those who had gone with you to Pylos, and he +was the first to tell the news to your mother, but I can say what I saw +with my own eyes; I had just got on to the crest of the hill of Mercury +above the town when I saw a ship coming into harbour with a number of +men in her. They had many shields and spears, and I thought it was the +suitors, but I cannot be sure.” + +On hearing this Telemachus smiled to his father, but so that Eumaeus +could not see him. + +Then, when they had finished their work and the meal was ready, they +ate it, and every man had his full share so that all were satisfied. As +soon as they had had enough to eat and drink, they laid down to rest +and enjoyed the boon of sleep. + + + + +BOOK XVII + + +TELEMACHUS AND HIS MOTHER MEET—ULYSSES AND EUMAEUS COME DOWN TO THE +TOWN, AND ULYSSES IS INSULTED BY MELANTHIUS—HE IS RECOGNISED BY THE DOG +ARGOS—HE IS INSULTED AND PRESENTLY STRUCK BY ANTINOUS WITH A +STOOL—PENELOPE DESIRES THAT HE SHALL BE SENT TO HER. + + +When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, Telemachus +bound on his sandals and took a strong spear that suited his hands, for +he wanted to go into the city. “Old friend,” said he to the swineherd, +“I will now go to the town and show myself to my mother, for she will +never leave off grieving till she has seen me. As for this unfortunate +stranger, take him to the town and let him beg there of any one who +will give him a drink and a piece of bread. I have trouble enough of my +own, and cannot be burdened with other people. If this makes him angry +so much the worse for him, but I like to say what I mean.” + +Then Ulysses said, “Sir, I do not want to stay here; a beggar can +always do better in town than country, for any one who likes can give +him something. I am too old to care about remaining here at the beck +and call of a master. Therefore let this man do as you have just told +him, and take me to the town as soon as I have had a warm by the fire, +and the day has got a little heat in it. My clothes are wretchedly +thin, and this frosty morning I shall be perished with cold, for you +say the city is some way off.” + +On this Telemachus strode off through the yards, brooding his revenge +upon the suitors. When he reached home he stood his spear against a +bearing-post of the cloister, crossed the stone floor of the cloister +itself, and went inside. + +Nurse Euryclea saw him long before any one else did. She was putting +the fleeces on to the seats, and she burst out crying as she ran up to +him; all the other maids came up too, and covered his head and +shoulders with their kisses. Penelope came out of her room looking like +Diana or Venus, and wept as she flung her arms about her son. She +kissed his forehead and both his beautiful eyes, “Light of my eyes,” +she cried as she spoke fondly to him, “so you are come home again; I +made sure I was never going to see you any more. To think of your +having gone off to Pylos without saying anything about it or obtaining +my consent. But come, tell me what you saw.” + +“Do not scold me, mother,” answered Telemachus, “nor vex me, seeing +what a narrow escape I have had, but wash your face, change your dress, +go upstairs with your maids, and promise full and sufficient hecatombs +to all the gods if Jove will only grant us our revenge upon the +suitors. I must now go to the place of assembly to invite a stranger +who has come back with me from Pylos. I sent him on with my crew, and +told Piraeus to take him home and look after him till I could come for +him myself.” + +She heeded her son’s words, washed her face, changed her dress, and +vowed full and sufficient hecatombs to all the gods if they would only +vouchsafe her revenge upon the suitors. + +Telemachus went through, and out of, the cloisters spear in hand—not +alone, for his two fleet dogs went with him. Minerva endowed him with a +presence of such divine comeliness that all marvelled at him as he went +by, and the suitors gathered round him with fair words in their mouths +and malice in their hearts; but he avoided them, and went to sit with +Mentor, Antiphus, and Halitherses, old friends of his father’s house, +and they made him tell them all that had happened to him. Then Piraeus +came up with Theoclymenus, whom he had escorted through the town to the +place of assembly, whereon Telemachus at once joined them. Piraeus was +first to speak: “Telemachus,” said he, “I wish you would send some of +your women to my house to take away the presents Menelaus gave you.” + +“We do not know, Piraeus,” answered Telemachus, “what may happen. If +the suitors kill me in my own house and divide my property among them, +I would rather you had the presents than that any of those people +should get hold of them. If on the other hand I managed to kill them, I +shall be much obliged if you will kindly bring me my presents.” + +With these words he took Theoclymenus to his own house. When they got +there they laid their cloaks on the benches and seats, went into the +baths, and washed themselves. When the maids had washed and anointed +them, and had given them cloaks and shirts, they took their seats at +table. A maid servant then brought them water in a beautiful golden +ewer, and poured it into a silver basin for them to wash their hands; +and she drew a clean table beside them. An upper servant brought them +bread and offered them many good things of what there was in the house. +Opposite them sat Penelope, reclining on a couch by one of the +bearing-posts of the cloister, and spinning. Then they laid their hands +on the good things that were before them, and as soon as they had had +enough to eat and drink Penelope said: + +“Telemachus, I shall go upstairs and lie down on that sad couch, which +I have not ceased to water with my tears, from the day Ulysses set out +for Troy with the sons of Atreus. You failed, however, to make it clear +to me before the suitors came back to the house, whether or no you had +been able to hear anything about the return of your father.” + +“I will tell you then truth,” replied her son. “We went to Pylos and +saw Nestor, who took me to his house and treated me as hospitably as +though I were a son of his own who had just returned after a long +absence; so also did his sons; but he said he had not heard a word from +any human being about Ulysses, whether he was alive or dead. He sent +me, therefore, with a chariot and horses to Menelaus. There I saw +Helen, for whose sake so many, both Argives and Trojans, were in +heaven’s wisdom doomed to suffer. Menelaus asked me what it was that +had brought me to Lacedaemon, and I told him the whole truth, whereon +he said, ‘So, then, these cowards would usurp a brave man’s bed? A hind +might as well lay her new-born young in the lair of a lion, and then go +off to feed in the forest or in some grassy dell. The lion, when he +comes back to his lair, will make short work with the pair of them, and +so will Ulysses with these suitors. By father Jove, Minerva, and +Apollo, if Ulysses is still the man that he was when he wrestled with +Philomeleides in Lesbos, and threw him so heavily that all the Greeks +cheered him—if he is still such, and were to come near these suitors, +they would have a short shrift and a sorry wedding. As regards your +question, however, I will not prevaricate nor deceive you, but what the +old man of the sea told me, so much will I tell you in full. He said he +could see Ulysses on an island sorrowing bitterly in the house of the +nymph Calypso, who was keeping him prisoner, and he could not reach his +home, for he had no ships nor sailors to take him over the sea.’ This +was what Menelaus told me, and when I had heard his story I came away; +the gods then gave me a fair wind and soon brought me safe home again.” + +With these words he moved the heart of Penelope. Then Theoclymenus said +to her: + +“Madam, wife of Ulysses, Telemachus does not understand these things; +listen therefore to me, for I can divine them surely, and will hide +nothing from you. May Jove the king of heaven be my witness, and the +rites of hospitality, with that hearth of Ulysses to which I now come, +that Ulysses himself is even now in Ithaca, and, either going about the +country or staying in one place, is enquiring into all these evil deeds +and preparing a day of reckoning for the suitors. I saw an omen when I +was on the ship which meant this, and I told Telemachus about it.” + +“May it be even so,” answered Penelope; “if your words come true, you +shall have such gifts and such good will from me that all who see you +shall congratulate you.” + +Thus did they converse. Meanwhile the suitors were throwing discs, or +aiming with spears at a mark on the levelled ground in front of the +house, and behaving with all their old insolence. But when it was now +time for dinner, and the flock of sheep and goats had come into the +town from all the country round, 140 with their shepherds as usual, +then Medon, who was their favourite servant, and who waited upon them +at table, said, “Now then, my young masters, you have had enough sport, +so come inside that we may get dinner ready. Dinner is not a bad thing, +at dinner time.” + +They left their sports as he told them, and when they were within the +house, they laid their cloaks on the benches and seats inside, and then +sacrificed some sheep, goats, pigs, and a heifer, all of them fat and +well grown.141 Thus they made ready for their meal. In the meantime +Ulysses and the swineherd were about starting for the town, and the +swineherd said, “Stranger, I suppose you still want to go to town +to-day, as my master said you were to do; for my own part I should have +liked you to stay here as a station hand, but I must do as my master +tells me, or he will scold me later on, and a scolding from one’s +master is a very serious thing. Let us then be off, for it is now broad +day; it will be night again directly and then you will find it +colder.”142 + +“I know, and understand you,” replied Ulysses; “you need say no more. +Let us be going, but if you have a stick ready cut, let me have it to +walk with, for you say the road is a very rough one.” + +As he spoke he threw his shabby old tattered wallet over his shoulders, +by the cord from which it hung, and Eumaeus gave him a stick to his +liking. The two then started, leaving the station in charge of the dogs +and herdsmen who remained behind; the swineherd led the way and his +master followed after, looking like some broken down old tramp as he +leaned upon his staff, and his clothes were all in rags. When they had +got over the rough steep ground and were nearing the city, they reached +the fountain from which the citizens drew their water. This had been +made by Ithacus, Neritus, and Polyctor. There was a grove of +water-loving poplars planted in a circle all round it, and the clear +cold water came down to it from a rock high up,143 while above the +fountain there was an altar to the nymphs, at which all wayfarers used +to sacrifice. Here Melanthius son of Dolius overtook them as he was +driving down some goats, the best in his flock, for the suitors’ +dinner, and there were two shepherds with him. When he saw Eumaeus and +Ulysses he reviled them with outrageous and unseemly language, which +made Ulysses very angry. + +“There you go,” cried he, “and a precious pair you are. See how heaven +brings birds of the same feather to one another. Where, pray, master +swineherd, are you taking this poor miserable object? It would make any +one sick to see such a creature at table. A fellow like this never won +a prize for anything in his life, but will go about rubbing his +shoulders against every man’s door post, and begging, not for swords +and cauldrons144 like a man, but only for a few scraps not worth +begging for. If you would give him to me for a hand on my station, he +might do to clean out the folds, or bring a bit of sweet feed to the +kids, and he could fatten his thighs as much as he pleased on whey; but +he has taken to bad ways and will not go about any kind of work; he +will do nothing but beg victuals all the town over, to feed his +insatiable belly. I say, therefore—and it shall surely be—if he goes +near Ulysses’ house he will get his head broken by the stools they will +fling at him, till they turn him out.” + +On this, as he passed, he gave Ulysses a kick on the hip out of pure +wantonness, but Ulysses stood firm, and did not budge from the path. +For a moment he doubted whether or no to fly at Melanthius and kill him +with his staff, or fling him to the ground and beat his brains out; he +resolved, however, to endure it and keep himself in check, but the +swineherd looked straight at Melanthius and rebuked him, lifting up his +hands and praying to heaven as he did so. + +“Fountain nymphs,” he cried, “children of Jove, if ever Ulysses burned +you thigh bones covered with fat whether of lambs or kids, grant my +prayer that heaven may send him home. He would soon put an end to the +swaggering threats with which such men as you go about insulting +people—gadding all over the town while your flocks are going to ruin +through bad shepherding.” + +Then Melanthius the goatherd answered, “You ill conditioned cur, what +are you talking about? Some day or other I will put you on board ship +and take you to a foreign country, where I can sell you and pocket the +money you will fetch. I wish I were as sure that Apollo would strike +Telemachus dead this very day, or that the suitors would kill him, as I +am that Ulysses will never come home again.” + +With this he left them to come on at their leisure, while he went +quickly forward and soon reached the house of his master. When he got +there he went in and took his seat among the suitors opposite +Eurymachus, who liked him better than any of the others. The servants +brought him a portion of meat, and an upper woman servant set bread +before him that he might eat. Presently Ulysses and the swineherd came +up to the house and stood by it, amid a sound of music, for Phemius was +just beginning to sing to the suitors. Then Ulysses took hold of the +swineherd’s hand, and said: + +“Eumaeus, this house of Ulysses is a very fine place. No matter how far +you go, you will find few like it. One building keeps following on +after another. The outer court has a wall with battlements all round +it; the doors are double folding, and of good workmanship; it would be +a hard matter to take it by force of arms. I perceive, too, that there +are many people banqueting within it, for there is a smell of roast +meat, and I hear a sound of music, which the gods have made to go along +with feasting.” + +Then Eumaeus said, “You have perceived aright, as indeed you generally +do; but let us think what will be our best course. Will you go inside +first and join the suitors, leaving me here behind you, or will you +wait here and let me go in first? But do not wait long, or some one may +see you loitering about outside, and throw something at you. Consider +this matter I pray you.” + +And Ulysses answered, “I understand and heed. Go in first and leave me +here where I am. I am quite used to being beaten and having things +thrown at me. I have been so much buffeted about in war and by sea that +I am case-hardened, and this too may go with the rest. But a man cannot +hide away the cravings of a hungry belly; this is an enemy which gives +much trouble to all men; it is because of this that ships are fitted +out to sail the seas, and to make war upon other people.” + +As they were thus talking, a dog that had been lying asleep raised his +head and pricked up his ears. This was Argos, whom Ulysses had bred +before setting out for Troy, but he had never had any work out of him. +In the old days he used to be taken out by the young men when they went +hunting wild goats, or deer, or hares, but now that his master was gone +he was lying neglected on the heaps of mule and cow dung that lay in +front of the stable doors till the men should come and draw it away to +manure the great close; and he was full of fleas. As soon as he saw +Ulysses standing there, he dropped his ears and wagged his tail, but he +could not get close up to his master. When Ulysses saw the dog on the +other side of the yard, he dashed a tear from his eyes without Eumaeus +seeing it, and said: + +“Eumaeus, what a noble hound that is over yonder on the manure heap: +his build is splendid; is he as fine a fellow as he looks, or is he +only one of those dogs that come begging about a table, and are kept +merely for show?” + +“This hound,” answered Eumaeus, “belonged to him who has died in a far +country. If he were what he was when Ulysses left for Troy, he would +soon show you what he could do. There was not a wild beast in the +forest that could get away from him when he was once on its tracks. But +now he has fallen on evil times, for his master is dead and gone, and +the women take no care of him. Servants never do their work when their +master’s hand is no longer over them, for Jove takes half the goodness +out of a man when he makes a slave of him.” + +As he spoke he went inside the buildings to the cloister where the +suitors were, but Argos died as soon as he had recognised his master. + +Telemachus saw Eumaeus long before any one else did, and beckoned him +to come and sit beside him; so he looked about and saw a seat lying +near where the carver sat serving out their portions to the suitors; he +picked it up, brought it to Telemachus’s table, and sat down opposite +him. Then the servant brought him his portion, and gave him bread from +the bread-basket. + +Immediately afterwards Ulysses came inside, looking like a poor +miserable old beggar, leaning on his staff and with his clothes all in +rags. He sat down upon the threshold of ash-wood just inside the doors +leading from the outer to the inner court, and against a bearing-post +of cypress-wood which the carpenter had skilfully planed, and had made +to join truly with rule and line. Telemachus took a whole loaf from the +bread-basket, with as much meat as he could hold in his two hands, and +said to Eumaeus, “Take this to the stranger, and tell him to go the +round of the suitors, and beg from them; a beggar must not be +shamefaced.” + +So Eumaeus went up to him and said, “Stranger, Telemachus sends you +this, and says you are to go the round of the suitors begging, for +beggars must not be shamefaced.” + +Ulysses answered, “May King Jove grant all happiness to Telemachus, and +fulfil the desire of his heart.” + +Then with both hands he took what Telemachus had sent him, and laid it +on the dirty old wallet at his feet. He went on eating it while the +bard was singing, and had just finished his dinner as he left off. The +suitors applauded the bard, whereon Minerva went up to Ulysses and +prompted him to beg pieces of bread from each one of the suitors, that +he might see what kind of people they were, and tell the good from the +bad; but come what might she was not going to save a single one of +them. Ulysses, therefore, went on his round, going from left to right, +and stretched out his hands to beg as though he were a real beggar. +Some of them pitied him, and were curious about him, asking one another +who he was and where he came from; whereon the goatherd Melanthius +said, “Suitors of my noble mistress, I can tell you something about +him, for I have seen him before. The swineherd brought him here, but I +know nothing about the man himself, nor where he comes from.” + +On this Antinous began to abuse the swineherd. “You precious idiot,” he +cried, “what have you brought this man to town for? Have we not tramps +and beggars enough already to pester us as we sit at meat? Do you think +it a small thing that such people gather here to waste your master’s +property—and must you needs bring this man as well?” + +And Eumaeus answered, “Antinous, your birth is good but your words +evil. It was no doing of mine that he came here. Who is likely to +invite a stranger from a foreign country, unless it be one of those who +can do public service as a seer, a healer of hurts, a carpenter, or a +bard who can charm us with his singing? Such men are welcome all the +world over, but no one is likely to ask a beggar who will only worry +him. You are always harder on Ulysses’ servants than any of the other +suitors are, and above all on me, but I do not care so long as +Telemachus and Penelope are alive and here.” + +But Telemachus said, “Hush, do not answer him; Antinous has the +bitterest tongue of all the suitors, and he makes the others worse.” + +Then turning to Antinous he said, “Antinous, you take as much care of +my interests as though I were your son. Why should you want to see this +stranger turned out of the house? Heaven forbid; take something and +give it him yourself; I do not grudge it; I bid you take it. Never mind +my mother, nor any of the other servants in the house; but I know you +will not do what I say, for you are more fond of eating things yourself +than of giving them to other people.” + +“What do you mean, Telemachus,” replied Antinous, “by this swaggering +talk? If all the suitors were to give him as much as I will, he would +not come here again for another three months.” + +As he spoke he drew the stool on which he rested his dainty feet from +under the table, and made as though he would throw it at Ulysses, but +the other suitors all gave him something, and filled his wallet with +bread and meat; he was about, therefore, to go back to the threshold +and eat what the suitors had given him, but he first went up to +Antinous and said: + +“Sir, give me something; you are not, surely, the poorest man here; you +seem to be a chief, foremost among them all; therefore you should be +the better giver, and I will tell far and wide of your bounty. I too +was a rich man once, and had a fine house of my own; in those days I +gave to many a tramp such as I now am, no matter who he might be nor +what he wanted. I had any number of servants, and all the other things +which people have who live well and are accounted wealthy, but it +pleased Jove to take all away from me. He sent me with a band of roving +robbers to Egypt; it was a long voyage and I was undone by it. I +stationed my ships in the river Aegyptus, and bade my men stay by them +and keep guard over them, while I sent out scouts to reconnoitre from +every point of vantage. + +“But the men disobeyed my orders, took to their own devices, and +ravaged the land of the Egyptians, killing the men, and taking their +wives and children captives. The alarm was soon carried to the city, +and when they heard the war-cry, the people came out at daybreak till +the plain was filled with soldiers horse and foot, and with the gleam +of armour. Then Jove spread panic among my men, and they would no +longer face the enemy, for they found themselves surrounded. The +Egyptians killed many of us, and took the rest alive to do forced +labour for them; as for myself, they gave me to a friend who met them, +to take to Cyprus, Dmetor by name, son of Iasus, who was a great man in +Cyprus. Thence I am come hither in a state of great misery.” + +Then Antinous said, “What god can have sent such a pestilence to plague +us during our dinner? Get out, into the open part of the court,145 or I +will give you Egypt and Cyprus over again for your insolence and +importunity; you have begged of all the others, and they have given you +lavishly, for they have abundance round them, and it is easy to be free +with other people’s property when there is plenty of it.” + +On this Ulysses began to move off, and said, “Your looks, my fine sir, +are better than your breeding; if you were in your own house you would +not spare a poor man so much as a pinch of salt, for though you are in +another man’s, and surrounded with abundance, you cannot find it in you +to give him even a piece of bread.” + +This made Antinous very angry, and he scowled at him saying, “You shall +pay for this before you get clear of the court.” With these words he +threw a footstool at him, and hit him on the right shoulder blade near +the top of his back. Ulysses stood firm as a rock and the blow did not +even stagger him, but he shook his head in silence as he brooded on his +revenge. Then he went back to the threshold and sat down there, laying +his well filled wallet at his feet. + +“Listen to me,” he cried, “you suitors of Queen Penelope, that I may +speak even as I am minded. A man knows neither ache nor pain if he gets +hit while fighting for his money, or for his sheep or his cattle; and +even so Antinous has hit me while in the service of my miserable belly, +which is always getting people into trouble. Still, if the poor have +gods and avenging deities at all, I pray them that Antinous may come to +a bad end before his marriage.” + +“Sit where you are, and eat your victuals in silence, or be off +elsewhere,” shouted Antinous. “If you say more I will have you dragged +hand and foot through the courts, and the servants shall flay you +alive.” + +The other suitors were much displeased at this, and one of the young +men said, “Antinous, you did ill in striking that poor wretch of a +tramp: it will be worse for you if he should turn out to be some +god—and we know the gods go about disguised in all sorts of ways as +people from foreign countries, and travel about the world to see who do +amiss and who righteously.”146 + +Thus said the suitors, but Antinous paid them no heed. Meanwhile +Telemachus was furious about the blow that had been given to his +father, and though no tear fell from him, he shook his head in silence +and brooded on his revenge. + +Now when Penelope heard that the beggar had been struck in the +banqueting-cloister, she said before her maids, “Would that Apollo +would so strike you, Antinous,” and her waiting woman Eurynome +answered, “If our prayers were answered not one of the suitors would +ever again see the sun rise.” Then Penelope said, “Nurse,147 I hate +every single one of them, for they mean nothing but mischief, but I +hate Antinous like the darkness of death itself. A poor unfortunate +tramp has come begging about the house for sheer want. Every one else +has given him something to put in his wallet, but Antinous has hit him +on the right shoulder-blade with a footstool.” + +Thus did she talk with her maids as she sat in her own room, and in the +meantime Ulysses was getting his dinner. Then she called for the +swineherd and said, “Eumaeus, go and tell the stranger to come here, I +want to see him and ask him some questions. He seems to have travelled +much, and he may have seen or heard something of my unhappy husband.” + +To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “If these Achaeans, Madam, +would only keep quiet, you would be charmed with the history of his +adventures. I had him three days and three nights with me in my hut, +which was the first place he reached after running away from his ship, +and he has not yet completed the story of his misfortunes. If he had +been the most heaven-taught minstrel in the whole world, on whose lips +all hearers hang entranced, I could not have been more charmed as I sat +in my hut and listened to him. He says there is an old friendship +between his house and that of Ulysses, and that he comes from Crete +where the descendants of Minos live, after having been driven hither +and thither by every kind of misfortune; he also declares that he has +heard of Ulysses as being alive and near at hand among the +Thesprotians, and that he is bringing great wealth home with him.” + +“Call him here, then,” said Penelope, “that I too may hear his story. +As for the suitors, let them take their pleasure indoors or out as they +will, for they have nothing to fret about. Their corn and wine remain +unwasted in their houses with none but servants to consume them, while +they keep hanging about our house day after day sacrificing our oxen, +sheep, and fat goats for their banquets, and never giving so much as a +thought to the quantity of wine they drink. No estate can stand such +recklessness, for we have now no Ulysses to protect us. If he were to +come again, he and his son would soon have their revenge.” + +As she spoke Telemachus sneezed so loudly that the whole house +resounded with it. Penelope laughed when she heard this, and said to +Eumaeus, “Go and call the stranger; did you not hear how my son sneezed +just as I was speaking? This can only mean that all the suitors are +going to be killed, and that not one of them shall escape. Furthermore +I say, and lay my saying to your heart: if I am satisfied that the +stranger is speaking the truth I shall give him a shirt and cloak of +good wear.” + +When Eumaeus heard this he went straight to Ulysses and said, “Father +stranger, my mistress Penelope, mother of Telemachus, has sent for you; +she is in great grief, but she wishes to hear anything you can tell her +about her husband, and if she is satisfied that you are speaking the +truth, she will give you a shirt and cloak, which are the very things +that you are most in want of. As for bread, you can get enough of that +to fill your belly, by begging about the town, and letting those give +that will.” + +“I will tell Penelope,” answered Ulysses, “nothing but what is strictly +true. I know all about her husband, and have been partner with him in +affliction, but I am afraid of passing through this crowd of cruel +suitors, for their pride and insolence reach heaven. Just now, +moreover, as I was going about the house without doing any harm, a man +gave me a blow that hurt me very much, but neither Telemachus nor any +one else defended me. Tell Penelope, therefore, to be patient and wait +till sundown. Let her give me a seat close up to the fire, for my +clothes are worn very thin—you know they are, for you have seen them +ever since I first asked you to help me—she can then ask me about the +return of her husband.” + +The swineherd went back when he heard this, and Penelope said as she +saw him cross the threshold, “Why do you not bring him here, Eumaeus? +Is he afraid that some one will ill-treat him, or is he shy of coming +inside the house at all? Beggars should not be shamefaced.” + +To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “The stranger is quite +reasonable. He is avoiding the suitors, and is only doing what any one +else would do. He asks you to wait till sundown, and it will be much +better, madam, that you should have him all to yourself, when you can +hear him and talk to him as you will.” + +“The man is no fool,” answered Penelope, “it would very likely be as he +says, for there are no such abominable people in the whole world as +these men are.” + +When she had done speaking Eumaeus went back to the suitors, for he had +explained everything. Then he went up to Telemachus and said in his ear +so that none could overhear him, “My dear sir, I will now go back to +the pigs, to see after your property and my own business. You will look +to what is going on here, but above all be careful to keep out of +danger, for there are many who bear you ill will. May Jove bring them +to a bad end before they do us a mischief.” + +“Very well,” replied Telemachus, “go home when you have had your +dinner, and in the morning come here with the victims we are to +sacrifice for the day. Leave the rest to heaven and me.” + +On this Eumaeus took his seat again, and when he had finished his +dinner he left the courts and the cloister with the men at table, and +went back to his pigs. As for the suitors, they presently began to +amuse themselves with singing and dancing, for it was now getting on +towards evening. + + + + +BOOK XVIII + + +THE FIGHT WITH IRUS—ULYSSES WARNS AMPHINOMUS—PENELOPE GETS PRESENTS +FROM THE SUITORS—THE BRAZIERS—ULYSSES REBUKES EURYMACHUS. + + +Now there came a certain common tramp who used to go begging all over +the city of Ithaca, and was notorious as an incorrigible glutton and +drunkard. This man had no strength nor stay in him, but he was a great +hulking fellow to look at; his real name, the one his mother gave him, +was Arnaeus, but the young men of the place called him Irus,148 because +he used to run errands for any one who would send him. As soon as he +came he began to insult Ulysses, and to try and drive him out of his +own house. + +“Be off, old man,” he cried, “from the doorway, or you shall be dragged +out neck and heels. Do you not see that they are all giving me the +wink, and wanting me to turn you out by force, only I do not like to do +so? Get up then, and go of yourself, or we shall come to blows.” + +Ulysses frowned on him and said, “My friend, I do you no manner of +harm; people give you a great deal, but I am not jealous. There is room +enough in this doorway for the pair of us, and you need not grudge me +things that are not yours to give. You seem to be just such another +tramp as myself, but perhaps the gods will give us better luck by and +by. Do not, however, talk too much about fighting or you will incense +me, and old though I am, I shall cover your mouth and chest with blood. +I shall have more peace tomorrow if I do, for you will not come to the +house of Ulysses any more.” + +Irus was very angry and answered, “You filthy glutton, you run on +trippingly like an old fish-fag. I have a good mind to lay both hands +about you, and knock your teeth out of your head like so many boar’s +tusks. Get ready, therefore, and let these people here stand by and +look on. You will never be able to fight one who is so much younger +than yourself.” + +Thus roundly did they rate one another on the smooth pavement in front +of the doorway,149 and when Antinous saw what was going on he laughed +heartily and said to the others, “This is the finest sport that you +ever saw; heaven never yet sent anything like it into this house. The +stranger and Irus have quarreled and are going to fight, let us set +them on to do so at once.” + +The suitors all came up laughing, and gathered round the two ragged +tramps. “Listen to me,” said Antinous, “there are some goats’ paunches +down at the fire, which we have filled with blood and fat, and set +aside for supper; he who is victorious and proves himself to be the +better man shall have his pick of the lot; he shall be free of our +table and we will not allow any other beggar about the house at all.” + +The others all agreed, but Ulysses, to throw them off the scent, said, +“Sirs, an old man like myself, worn out with suffering, cannot hold his +own against a young one; but my irrepressible belly urges me on, though +I know it can only end in my getting a drubbing. You must swear, +however that none of you will give me a foul blow to favour Irus and +secure him the victory.” + +They swore as he told them, and when they had completed their oath +Telemachus put in a word and said, “Stranger, if you have a mind to +settle with this fellow, you need not be afraid of any one here. +Whoever strikes you will have to fight more than one. I am host, and +the other chiefs, Antinous and Eurymachus, both of them men of +understanding, are of the same mind as I am.” + +Every one assented, and Ulysses girded his old rags about his loins, +thus baring his stalwart thighs, his broad chest and shoulders, and his +mighty arms; but Minerva came up to him and made his limbs even +stronger still. The suitors were beyond measure astonished, and one +would turn towards his neighbour saying, “The stranger has brought such +a thigh out of his old rags that there will soon be nothing left of +Irus.” + +Irus began to be very uneasy as he heard them, but the servants girded +him by force, and brought him [into the open part of the court] in such +a fright that his limbs were all of a tremble. Antinous scolded him and +said, “You swaggering bully, you ought never to have been born at all +if you are afraid of such an old broken down creature as this tramp is. +I say, therefore—and it shall surely be—if he beats you and proves +himself the better man, I shall pack you off on board ship to the +mainland and send you to king Echetus, who kills every one that comes +near him. He will cut off your nose and ears, and draw out your +entrails for the dogs to eat.” + +This frightened Irus still more, but they brought him into the middle +of the court, and the two men raised their hands to fight. Then Ulysses +considered whether he should let drive so hard at him as to make an end +of him then and there, or whether he should give him a lighter blow +that should only knock him down; in the end he deemed it best to give +the lighter blow for fear the Achaeans should begin to suspect who he +was. Then they began to fight, and Irus hit Ulysses on the right +shoulder; but Ulysses gave Irus a blow on the neck under the ear that +broke in the bones of his skull, and the blood came gushing out of his +mouth; he fell groaning in the dust, gnashing his teeth and kicking on +the ground, but the suitors threw up their hands and nearly died of +laughter, as Ulysses caught hold of him by the foot and dragged him +into the outer court as far as the gate-house. There he propped him up +against the wall and put his staff in his hands. “Sit here,” said he, +“and keep the dogs and pigs off; you are a pitiful creature, and if you +try to make yourself king of the beggars any more you shall fare still +worse.” + +Then he threw his dirty old wallet, all tattered and torn over his +shoulder with the cord by which it hung, and went back to sit down upon +the threshold; but the suitors went within the cloisters, laughing and +saluting him, “May Jove, and all the other gods,” said they, “grant you +whatever you want for having put an end to the importunity of this +insatiable tramp. We will take him over to the mainland presently, to +king Echetus, who kills every one that comes near him.” + +Ulysses hailed this as of good omen, and Antinous set a great goat’s +paunch before him filled with blood and fat. Amphinomus took two loaves +out of the bread-basket and brought them to him, pledging him as he did +so in a golden goblet of wine. “Good luck to you,” he said, “father +stranger, you are very badly off at present, but I hope you will have +better times by and by.” + +To this Ulysses answered, “Amphinomus, you seem to be a man of good +understanding, as indeed you may well be, seeing whose son you are. I +have heard your father well spoken of; he is Nisus of Dulichium, a man +both brave and wealthy. They tell me you are his son, and you appear to +be a considerable person; listen, therefore, and take heed to what I am +saying. Man is the vainest of all creatures that have their being upon +earth. As long as heaven vouchsafes him health and strength, he thinks +that he shall come to no harm hereafter, and even when the blessed gods +bring sorrow upon him, he bears it as he needs must, and makes the best +of it; for God almighty gives men their daily minds day by day. I know +all about it, for I was a rich man once, and did much wrong in the +stubbornness of my pride, and in the confidence that my father and my +brothers would support me; therefore let a man fear God in all things +always, and take the good that heaven may see fit to send him without +vain glory. Consider the infamy of what these suitors are doing; see +how they are wasting the estate, and doing dishonour to the wife, of +one who is certain to return some day, and that, too, not long hence. +Nay, he will be here soon; may heaven send you home quietly first that +you may not meet with him in the day of his coming, for once he is here +the suitors and he will not part bloodlessly.” + +With these words he made a drink-offering, and when he had drunk he put +the gold cup again into the hands of Amphinomus, who walked away +serious and bowing his head, for he foreboded evil. But even so he did +not escape destruction, for Minerva had doomed him to fall by the hand +of Telemachus. So he took his seat again at the place from which he had +come. + +Then Minerva put it into the mind of Penelope to show herself to the +suitors, that she might make them still more enamoured of her, and win +still further honour from her son and husband. So she feigned a mocking +laugh and said, “Eurynome, I have changed my mind, and have a fancy to +show myself to the suitors although I detest them. I should like also +to give my son a hint that he had better not have anything more to do +with them. They speak fairly enough but they mean mischief.” + +“My dear child,” answered Eurynome, “all that you have said is true, go +and tell your son about it, but first wash yourself and anoint your +face. Do not go about with your cheeks all covered with tears; it is +not right that you should grieve so incessantly; for Telemachus, whom +you always prayed that you might live to see with a beard, is already +grown up.” + +“I know, Eurynome,” replied Penelope, “that you mean well, but do not +try and persuade me to wash and to anoint myself, for heaven robbed me +of all my beauty on the day my husband sailed; nevertheless, tell +Autonoe and Hippodamia that I want them. They must be with me when I am +in the cloister; I am not going among the men alone; it would not be +proper for me to do so.” + +On this the old woman150 went out of the room to bid the maids go to +their mistress. In the meantime Minerva bethought her of another +matter, and sent Penelope off into a sweet slumber; so she lay down on +her couch and her limbs became heavy with sleep. Then the goddess shed +grace and beauty over her that all the Achaeans might admire her. She +washed her face with the ambrosial loveliness that Venus wears when she +goes dancing with the Graces; she made her taller and of a more +commanding figure, while as for her complexion it was whiter than sawn +ivory. When Minerva had done all this she went away, whereon the maids +came in from the women’s room and woke Penelope with the sound of their +talking. + +“What an exquisitely delicious sleep I have been having,” said she, as +she passed her hands over her face, “in spite of all my misery. I wish +Diana would let me die so sweetly now at this very moment, that I might +no longer waste in despair for the loss of my dear husband, who +possessed every kind of good quality and was the most distinguished man +among the Achaeans.” + +With these words she came down from her upper room, not alone but +attended by two of her maidens, and when she reached the suitors she +stood by one of the bearing-posts supporting the roof of the cloister, +holding a veil before her face, and with a staid maid servant on either +side of her. As they beheld her the suitors were so overpowered and +became so desperately enamoured of her, that each one prayed he might +win her for his own bed fellow. + +“Telemachus,” said she, addressing her son, “I fear you are no longer +so discreet and well conducted as you used to be. When you were younger +you had a greater sense of propriety; now, however, that you are grown +up, though a stranger to look at you would take you for the son of a +well to do father as far as size and good looks go, your conduct is by +no means what it should be. What is all this disturbance that has been +going on, and how came you to allow a stranger to be so disgracefully +ill-treated? What would have happened if he had suffered serious injury +while a suppliant in our house? Surely this would have been very +discreditable to you.” + +“I am not surprised, my dear mother, at your displeasure,” replied +Telemachus, “I understand all about it and know when things are not as +they should be, which I could not do when I was younger; I cannot, +however, behave with perfect propriety at all times. First one and then +another of these wicked people here keeps driving me out of my mind, +and I have no one to stand by me. After all, however, this fight +between Irus and the stranger did not turn out as the suitors meant it +to do, for the stranger got the best of it. I wish Father Jove, +Minerva, and Apollo would break the neck of every one of these wooers +of yours, some inside the house and some out; and I wish they might all +be as limp as Irus is over yonder in the gate of the outer court. See +how he nods his head like a drunken man; he has had such a thrashing +that he cannot stand on his feet nor get back to his home, wherever +that may be, for he has no strength left in him.” + +Thus did they converse. Eurymachus then came up and said, “Queen +Penelope, daughter of Icarius, if all the Achaeans in Iasian Argos +could see you at this moment, you would have still more suitors in your +house by tomorrow morning, for you are the most admirable woman in the +whole world both as regards personal beauty and strength of +understanding.” + +To this Penelope replied, “Eurymachus, heaven robbed me of all my +beauty whether of face or figure when the Argives set sail for Troy and +my dear husband with them. If he were to return and look after my +affairs, I should both be more respected and show a better presence to +the world. As it is, I am oppressed with care, and with the afflictions +which heaven has seen fit to heap upon me. My husband foresaw it all, +and when he was leaving home he took my right wrist in his hand—‘Wife,’ +he said, ‘we shall not all of us come safe home from Troy, for the +Trojans fight well both with bow and spear. They are excellent also at +fighting from chariots, and nothing decides the issue of a fight sooner +than this. I know not, therefore, whether heaven will send me back to +you, or whether I may not fall over there at Troy. In the meantime do +you look after things here. Take care of my father and mother as at +present, and even more so during my absence, but when you see our son +growing a beard, then marry whom you will, and leave this your present +home.’ This is what he said and now it is all coming true. A night will +come when I shall have to yield myself to a marriage which I detest, +for Jove has taken from me all hope of happiness. This further grief, +moreover, cuts me to the very heart. You suitors are not wooing me +after the custom of my country. When men are courting a woman who they +think will be a good wife to them and who is of noble birth, and when +they are each trying to win her for himself, they usually bring oxen +and sheep to feast the friends of the lady, and they make her +magnificent presents, instead of eating up other people’s property +without paying for it.” + +This was what she said, and Ulysses was glad when he heard her trying +to get presents out of the suitors, and flattering them with fair words +which he knew she did not mean. + +Then Antinous said, “Queen Penelope, daughter of Icarius, take as many +presents as you please from any one who will give them to you; it is +not well to refuse a present; but we will not go about our business nor +stir from where we are, till you have married the best man among us +whoever he may be.” + +The others applauded what Antinous had said, and each one sent his +servant to bring his present. Antinous’s man returned with a large and +lovely dress most exquisitely embroidered. It had twelve beautifully +made brooch pins of pure gold with which to fasten it. Eurymachus +immediately brought her a magnificent chain of gold and amber beads +that gleamed like sunlight. Eurydamas’s two men returned with some +earrings fashioned into three brilliant pendants which glistened most +beautifully; while king Pisander son of Polyctor gave her a necklace of +the rarest workmanship, and every one else brought her a beautiful +present of some kind. + +Then the queen went back to her room upstairs, and her maids brought +the presents after her. Meanwhile the suitors took to singing and +dancing, and stayed till evening came. They danced and sang till it +grew dark; they then brought in three braziers151 to give light, and +piled them up with chopped firewood very old and dry, and they lit +torches from them, which the maids held up turn and turn about. Then +Ulysses said: + +“Maids, servants of Ulysses who has so long been absent, go to the +queen inside the house; sit with her and amuse her, or spin, and pick +wool. I will hold the light for all these people. They may stay till +morning, but shall not beat me, for I can stand a great deal.” + +The maids looked at one another and laughed, while pretty Melantho +began to gibe at him contemptuously. She was daughter to Dolius, but +had been brought up by Penelope, who used to give her toys to play +with, and looked after her when she was a child; but in spite of all +this she showed no consideration for the sorrows of her mistress, and +used to misconduct herself with Eurymachus, with whom she was in love. + +“Poor wretch,” said she, “are you gone clean out of your mind? Go and +sleep in some smithy, or place of public gossips, instead of chattering +here. Are you not ashamed of opening your mouth before your betters—so +many of them too? Has the wine been getting into your head, or do you +always babble in this way? You seem to have lost your wits because you +beat the tramp Irus; take care that a better man than he does not come +and cudgel you about the head till he pack you bleeding out of the +house.” + +“Vixen,” replied Ulysses, scowling at her, “I will go and tell +Telemachus what you have been saying, and he will have you torn limb +from limb.” + +With these words he scared the women, and they went off into the body +of the house. They trembled all over, for they thought he would do as +he said. But Ulysses took his stand near the burning braziers, holding +up torches and looking at the people—brooding the while on things that +should surely come to pass. + +But Minerva would not let the suitors for one moment cease their +insolence, for she wanted Ulysses to become even more bitter against +them; she therefore set Eurymachus son of Polybus on to gibe at him, +which made the others laugh. “Listen to me,” said he, “you suitors of +Queen Penelope, that I may speak even as I am minded. It is not for +nothing that this man has come to the house of Ulysses; I believe the +light has not been coming from the torches, but from his own head—for +his hair is all gone, every bit of it.” + +Then turning to Ulysses he said, “Stranger, will you work as a servant, +if I send you to the wolds and see that you are well paid? Can you +build a stone fence, or plant trees? I will have you fed all the year +round, and will find you in shoes and clothing. Will you go, then? Not +you; for you have got into bad ways, and do not want to work; you had +rather fill your belly by going round the country begging.” + +“Eurymachus,” answered Ulysses, “if you and I were to work one against +the other in early summer when the days are at their longest—give me a +good scythe, and take another yourself, and let us see which will last +the longer or mow the stronger, from dawn till dark when the mowing +grass is about. Or if you will plough against me, let us each take a +yoke of tawny oxen, well-mated and of great strength and endurance: +turn me into a four acre field, and see whether you or I can drive the +straighter furrow. If, again, war were to break out this day, give me a +shield, a couple of spears and a helmet fitting well upon my +temples—you would find me foremost in the fray, and would cease your +gibes about my belly. You are insolent and cruel, and think yourself a +great man because you live in a little world, and that a bad one. If +Ulysses comes to his own again, the doors of his house are wide, but +you will find them narrow when you try to fly through them.” + +Eurymachus was furious at all this. He scowled at him and cried, “You +wretch, I will soon pay you out for daring to say such things to me, +and in public too. Has the wine been getting into your head or do you +always babble in this way? You seem to have lost your wits because you +beat the tramp Irus.” With this he caught hold of a footstool, but +Ulysses sought protection at the knees of Amphinomus of Dulichium, for +he was afraid. The stool hit the cupbearer on his right hand and +knocked him down: the man fell with a cry flat on his back, and his +wine-jug fell ringing to the ground. The suitors in the covered +cloister were now in an uproar, and one would turn towards his +neighbour, saying, “I wish the stranger had gone somewhere else, bad +luck to him, for all the trouble he gives us. We cannot permit such +disturbance about a beggar; if such ill counsels are to prevail we +shall have no more pleasure at our banquet.” + +On this Telemachus came forward and said, “Sirs, are you mad? Can you +not carry your meat and your liquor decently? Some evil spirit has +possessed you. I do not wish to drive any of you away, but you have had +your suppers, and the sooner you all go home to bed the better.” + +The suitors bit their lips and marvelled at the boldness of his speech; +but Amphinomus the son of Nisus, who was son to Aretias, said, “Do not +let us take offence; it is reasonable, so let us make no answer. +Neither let us do violence to the stranger nor to any of Ulysses’ +servants. Let the cupbearer go round with the drink-offerings, that we +may make them and go home to our rest. As for the stranger, let us +leave Telemachus to deal with him, for it is to his house that he has +come.” + +Thus did he speak, and his saying pleased them well, so Mulius of +Dulichium, servant to Amphinomus, mixed them a bowl of wine and water +and handed it round to each of them man by man, whereon they made their +drink-offerings to the blessed gods: Then, when they had made their +drink-offerings and had drunk each one as he was minded, they took +their several ways each of them to his own abode. + + + + +BOOK XIX + + +TELEMACHUS AND ULYSSES REMOVE THE ARMOUR—ULYSSES INTERVIEWS +PENELOPE—EURYCLEA WASHES HIS FEET AND RECOGNISES THE SCAR ON HIS +LEG—PENELOPE TELLS HER DREAM TO ULYSSES. + + +Ulysses was left in the cloister, pondering on the means whereby with +Minerva’s help he might be able to kill the suitors. Presently he said +to Telemachus, “Telemachus, we must get the armour together and take it +down inside. Make some excuse when the suitors ask you why you have +removed it. Say that you have taken it to be out of the way of the +smoke, inasmuch as it is no longer what it was when Ulysses went away, +but has become soiled and begrimed with soot. Add to this more +particularly that you are afraid Jove may set them on to quarrel over +their wine, and that they may do each other some harm which may +disgrace both banquet and wooing, for the sight of arms sometimes +tempts people to use them.” + +Telemachus approved of what his father had said, so he called nurse +Euryclea and said, “Nurse, shut the women up in their room, while I +take the armour that my father left behind him down into the store +room. No one looks after it now my father is gone, and it has got all +smirched with soot during my own boyhood. I want to take it down where +the smoke cannot reach it.” + +“I wish, child,” answered Euryclea, “that you would take the management +of the house into your own hands altogether, and look after all the +property yourself. But who is to go with you and light you to the +store-room? The maids would have done so, but you would not let them.” + +“The stranger,” said Telemachus, “shall show me a light; when people +eat my bread they must earn it, no matter where they come from.” + +Euryclea did as she was told, and bolted the women inside their room. +Then Ulysses and his son made all haste to take the helmets, shields, +and spears inside; and Minerva went before them with a gold lamp in her +hand that shed a soft and brilliant radiance, whereon Telemachus said, +“Father, my eyes behold a great marvel: the walls, with the rafters, +crossbeams, and the supports on which they rest are all aglow as with a +flaming fire. Surely there is some god here who has come down from +heaven.” + +“Hush,” answered Ulysses, “hold your peace and ask no questions, for +this is the manner of the gods. Get you to your bed, and leave me here +to talk with your mother and the maids. Your mother in her grief will +ask me all sorts of questions.” + +On this Telemachus went by torch-light to the other side of the inner +court, to the room in which he always slept. There he lay in his bed +till morning, while Ulysses was left in the cloister pondering on the +means whereby with Minerva’s help he might be able to kill the suitors. + +Then Penelope came down from her room looking like Venus or Diana, and +they set her a seat inlaid with scrolls of silver and ivory near the +fire in her accustomed place. It had been made by Icmalius and had a +footstool all in one piece with the seat itself; and it was covered +with a thick fleece: on this she now sat, and the maids came from the +women’s room to join her. They set about removing the tables at which +the wicked suitors had been dining, and took away the bread that was +left, with the cups from which they had drunk. They emptied the embers +out of the braziers, and heaped much wood upon them to give both light +and heat; but Melantho began to rail at Ulysses a second time and said, +“Stranger, do you mean to plague us by hanging about the house all +night and spying upon the women? Be off, you wretch, outside, and eat +your supper there, or you shall be driven out with a firebrand.” + +Ulysses scowled at her and answered, “My good woman, why should you be +so angry with me? Is it because I am not clean, and my clothes are all +in rags, and because I am obliged to go begging about after the manner +of tramps and beggars generally? I too was a rich man once, and had a +fine house of my own; in those days I gave to many a tramp such as I +now am, no matter who he might be nor what he wanted. I had any number +of servants, and all the other things which people have who live well +and are accounted wealthy, but it pleased Jove to take all away from +me; therefore, woman, beware lest you too come to lose that pride and +place in which you now wanton above your fellows; have a care lest you +get out of favour with your mistress, and lest Ulysses should come +home, for there is still a chance that he may do so. Moreover, though +he be dead as you think he is, yet by Apollo’s will he has left a son +behind him, Telemachus, who will note anything done amiss by the maids +in the house, for he is now no longer in his boyhood.” + +Penelope heard what he was saying and scolded the maid, “Impudent +baggage,” said she, “I see how abominably you are behaving, and you +shall smart for it. You knew perfectly well, for I told you myself, +that I was going to see the stranger and ask him about my husband, for +whose sake I am in such continual sorrow.” + +Then she said to her head waiting woman Eurynome, “Bring a seat with a +fleece upon it, for the stranger to sit upon while he tells his story, +and listens to what I have to say. I wish to ask him some questions.” + +Eurynome brought the seat at once and set a fleece upon it, and as soon +as Ulysses had sat down Penelope began by saying, “Stranger, I shall +first ask you who and whence are you? Tell me of your town and +parents.” + +“Madam,” answered Ulysses, “who on the face of the whole earth can dare +to chide with you? Your fame reaches the firmament of heaven itself; +you are like some blameless king, who upholds righteousness, as the +monarch over a great and valiant nation: the earth yields its wheat and +barley, the trees are loaded with fruit, the ewes bring forth lambs, +and the sea abounds with fish by reason of his virtues, and his people +do good deeds under him. Nevertheless, as I sit here in your house, ask +me some other question and do not seek to know my race and family, or +you will recall memories that will yet more increase my sorrow. I am +full of heaviness, but I ought not to sit weeping and wailing in +another person’s house, nor is it well to be thus grieving continually. +I shall have one of the servants or even yourself complaining of me, +and saying that my eyes swim with tears because I am heavy with wine.” + +Then Penelope answered, “Stranger, heaven robbed me of all beauty, +whether of face or figure, when the Argives set sail for Troy and my +dear husband with them. If he were to return and look after my affairs +I should be both more respected and should show a better presence to +the world. As it is, I am oppressed with care, and with the afflictions +which heaven has seen fit to heap upon me. The chiefs from all our +islands—Dulichium, Same, and Zacynthus, as also from Ithaca itself, are +wooing me against my will and are wasting my estate. I can therefore +show no attention to strangers, nor suppliants, nor to people who say +that they are skilled artisans, but am all the time broken-hearted +about Ulysses. They want me to marry again at once, and I have to +invent stratagems in order to deceive them. In the first place heaven +put it in my mind to set up a great tambour-frame in my room, and to +begin working upon an enormous piece of fine needlework. Then I said to +them, ‘Sweethearts, Ulysses is indeed dead, still, do not press me to +marry again immediately; wait—for I would not have my skill in +needlework perish unrecorded—till I have finished making a pall for the +hero Laertes, to be ready against the time when death shall take him. +He is very rich, and the women of the place will talk if he is laid out +without a pall.’ This was what I said, and they assented; whereon I +used to keep working at my great web all day long, but at night I would +unpick the stitches again by torch light. I fooled them in this way for +three years without their finding it out, but as time wore on and I was +now in my fourth year, in the waning of moons, and many days had been +accomplished, those good for nothing hussies my maids betrayed me to +the suitors, who broke in upon me and caught me; they were very angry +with me, so I was forced to finish my work whether I would or no. And +now I do not see how I can find any further shift for getting out of +this marriage. My parents are putting great pressure upon me, and my +son chafes at the ravages the suitors are making upon his estate, for +he is now old enough to understand all about it and is perfectly able +to look after his own affairs, for heaven has blessed him with an +excellent disposition. Still, notwithstanding all this, tell me who you +are and where you come from—for you must have had father and mother of +some sort; you cannot be the son of an oak or of a rock.” + +Then Ulysses answered, “Madam, wife of Ulysses, since you persist in +asking me about my family, I will answer, no matter what it costs me: +people must expect to be pained when they have been exiles as long as I +have, and suffered as much among as many peoples. Nevertheless, as +regards your question I will tell you all you ask. There is a fair and +fruitful island in mid-ocean called Crete; it is thickly peopled and +there are ninety cities in it: the people speak many different +languages which overlap one another, for there are Achaeans, brave +Eteocretans, Dorians of three-fold race, and noble Pelasgi. There is a +great town there, Cnossus, where Minos reigned who every nine years had +a conference with Jove himself.152 Minos was father to Deucalion, whose +son I am, for Deucalion had two sons Idomeneus and myself. Idomeneus +sailed for Troy, and I, who am the younger, am called Aethon; my +brother, however, was at once the older and the more valiant of the +two; hence it was in Crete that I saw Ulysses and showed him +hospitality, for the winds took him there as he was on his way to Troy, +carrying him out of his course from cape Malea and leaving him in +Amnisus off the cave of Ilithuia, where the harbours are difficult to +enter and he could hardly find shelter from the winds that were then +raging. As soon as he got there he went into the town and asked for +Idomeneus, claiming to be his old and valued friend, but Idomeneus had +already set sail for Troy some ten or twelve days earlier, so I took +him to my own house and showed him every kind of hospitality, for I had +abundance of everything. Moreover, I fed the men who were with him with +barley meal from the public store, and got subscriptions of wine and +oxen for them to sacrifice to their heart’s content. They stayed with +me twelve days, for there was a gale blowing from the North so strong +that one could hardly keep one’s feet on land. I suppose some +unfriendly god had raised it for them, but on the thirteenth day the +wind dropped, and they got away.” + +Many a plausible tale did Ulysses further tell her, and Penelope wept +as she listened, for her heart was melted. As the snow wastes upon the +mountain tops when the winds from South East and West have breathed +upon it and thawed it till the rivers run bank full with water, even so +did her cheeks overflow with tears for the husband who was all the time +sitting by her side. Ulysses felt for her and was sorry for her, but he +kept his eyes as hard as horn or iron without letting them so much as +quiver, so cunningly did he restrain his tears. Then, when she had +relieved herself by weeping, she turned to him again and said: “Now, +stranger, I shall put you to the test and see whether or no you really +did entertain my husband and his men, as you say you did. Tell me, +then, how he was dressed, what kind of a man he was to look at, and so +also with his companions.” + +“Madam,” answered Ulysses, “it is such a long time ago that I can +hardly say. Twenty years are come and gone since he left my home, and +went elsewhither; but I will tell you as well as I can recollect. +Ulysses wore a mantle of purple wool, double lined, and it was fastened +by a gold brooch with two catches for the pin. On the face of this +there was a device that shewed a dog holding a spotted fawn between his +fore paws, and watching it as it lay panting upon the ground. Every one +marvelled at the way in which these things had been done in gold, the +dog looking at the fawn, and strangling it, while the fawn was +struggling convulsively to escape.153 As for the shirt that he wore +next his skin, it was so soft that it fitted him like the skin of an +onion, and glistened in the sunlight to the admiration of all the women +who beheld it. Furthermore I say, and lay my saying to your heart, that +I do not know whether Ulysses wore these clothes when he left home, or +whether one of his companions had given them to him while he was on his +voyage; or possibly some one at whose house he was staying made him a +present of them, for he was a man of many friends and had few equals +among the Achaeans. I myself gave him a sword of bronze and a beautiful +purple mantle, double lined, with a shirt that went down to his feet, +and I sent him on board his ship with every mark of honour. He had a +servant with him, a little older than himself, and I can tell you what +he was like; his shoulders were hunched,154 he was dark, and he had +thick curly hair. His name was Eurybates, and Ulysses treated him with +greater familiarity than he did any of the others, as being the most +like-minded with himself.” + +Penelope was moved still more deeply as she heard the indisputable +proofs that Ulysses laid before her; and when she had again found +relief in tears she said to him, “Stranger, I was already disposed to +pity you, but henceforth you shall be honoured and made welcome in my +house. It was I who gave Ulysses the clothes you speak of. I took them +out of the store room and folded them up myself, and I gave him also +the gold brooch to wear as an ornament. Alas! I shall never welcome him +home again. It was by an ill fate that he ever set out for that +detested city whose very name I cannot bring myself even to mention.” + +Then Ulysses answered, “Madam, wife of Ulysses, do not disfigure +yourself further by grieving thus bitterly for your loss, though I can +hardly blame you for doing so. A woman who has loved her husband and +borne him children, would naturally be grieved at losing him, even +though he were a worse man than Ulysses, who they say was like a god. +Still, cease your tears and listen to what I can tell you. I will hide +nothing from you, and can say with perfect truth that I have lately +heard of Ulysses as being alive and on his way home; he is among the +Thesprotians, and is bringing back much valuable treasure that he has +begged from one and another of them; but his ship and all his crew were +lost as they were leaving the Thrinacian island, for Jove and the +sun-god were angry with him because his men had slaughtered the +sun-god’s cattle, and they were all drowned to a man. But Ulysses stuck +to the keel of the ship and was drifted on to the land of the +Phaeacians, who are near of kin to the immortals, and who treated him +as though he had been a god, giving him many presents, and wishing to +escort him home safe and sound. In fact Ulysses would have been here +long ago, had he not thought better to go from land to land gathering +wealth; for there is no man living who is so wily as he is; there is no +one can compare with him. Pheidon king of the Thesprotians told me all +this, and he swore to me—making drink-offerings in his house as he did +so—that the ship was by the water side and the crew found who would +take Ulysses to his own country. He sent me off first, for there +happened to be a Thesprotian ship sailing for the wheat-growing island +of Dulichium, but he showed me all the treasure Ulysses had got +together, and he had enough lying in the house of king Pheidon to keep +his family for ten generations; but the king said Ulysses had gone to +Dodona that he might learn Jove’s mind from the high oak tree, and know +whether after so long an absence he should return to Ithaca openly or +in secret. So you may know he is safe and will be here shortly; he is +close at hand and cannot remain away from home much longer; +nevertheless I will confirm my words with an oath, and call Jove who is +the first and mightiest of all gods to witness, as also that hearth of +Ulysses to which I have now come, that all I have spoken shall surely +come to pass. Ulysses will return in this self same year; with the end +of this moon and the beginning of the next he will be here.” + +“May it be even so,” answered Penelope; “if your words come true you +shall have such gifts and such good will from me that all who see you +shall congratulate you; but I know very well how it will be. Ulysses +will not return, neither will you get your escort hence, for so surely +as that Ulysses ever was, there are now no longer any such masters in +the house as he was, to receive honourable strangers or to further them +on their way home. And now, you maids, wash his feet for him, and make +him a bed on a couch with rugs and blankets, that he may be warm and +quiet till morning. Then, at day break wash him and anoint him again, +that he may sit in the cloister and take his meals with Telemachus. It +shall be the worse for any one of these hateful people who is uncivil +to him; like it or not, he shall have no more to do in this house. For +how, sir, shall you be able to learn whether or no I am superior to +others of my sex both in goodness of heart and understanding, if I let +you dine in my cloisters squalid and ill clad? Men live but for a +little season; if they are hard, and deal hardly, people wish them ill +so long as they are alive, and speak contemptuously of them when they +are dead, but he that is righteous and deals righteously, the people +tell of his praise among all lands, and many shall call him blessed.” + +Ulysses answered, “Madam, I have foresworn rugs and blankets from the +day that I left the snowy ranges of Crete to go on shipboard. I will +lie as I have lain on many a sleepless night hitherto. Night after +night have I passed in any rough sleeping place, and waited for +morning. Nor, again, do I like having my feet washed; I shall not let +any of the young hussies about your house touch my feet; but, if you +have any old and respectable woman who has gone through as much trouble +as I have, I will allow her to wash them.” + +To this Penelope said, “My dear sir, of all the guests who ever yet +came to my house there never was one who spoke in all things with such +admirable propriety as you do. There happens to be in the house a most +respectable old woman—the same who received my poor dear husband in her +arms the night he was born, and nursed him in infancy. She is very +feeble now, but she shall wash your feet.” “Come here,” said she, +“Euryclea, and wash your master’s age-mate; I suppose Ulysses’ hands +and feet are very much the same now as his are, for trouble ages all of +us dreadfully fast.” + +On these words the old woman covered her face with her hands; she began +to weep and made lamentation saying, “My dear child, I cannot think +whatever I am to do with you. I am certain no one was ever more +god-fearing than yourself, and yet Jove hates you. No one in the whole +world ever burned him more thigh bones, nor gave him finer hecatombs +when you prayed you might come to a green old age yourself and see your +son grow up to take after you: yet see how he has prevented you alone +from ever getting back to your own home. I have no doubt the women in +some foreign palace which Ulysses has got to are gibing at him as all +these sluts here have been gibing at you. I do not wonder at your not +choosing to let them wash you after the manner in which they have +insulted you; I will wash your feet myself gladly enough, as Penelope +has said that I am to do so; I will wash them both for Penelope’s sake +and for your own, for you have raised the most lively feelings of +compassion in my mind; and let me say this moreover, which pray attend +to; we have had all kinds of strangers in distress come here before +now, but I make bold to say that no one ever yet came who was so like +Ulysses in figure, voice, and feet as you are.” + +“Those who have seen us both,” answered Ulysses, “have always said we +were wonderfully like each other, and now you have noticed it too.” + +Then the old woman took the cauldron in which she was going to wash his +feet, and poured plenty of cold water into it, adding hot till the bath +was warm enough. Ulysses sat by the fire, but ere long he turned away +from the light, for it occurred to him that when the old woman had hold +of his leg she would recognise a certain scar which it bore, whereon +the whole truth would come out. And indeed as soon as she began washing +her master, she at once knew the scar as one that had been given him by +a wild boar when he was hunting on Mt. Parnassus with his excellent +grandfather Autolycus—who was the most accomplished thief and perjurer +in the whole world—and with the sons of Autolycus. Mercury himself had +endowed him with this gift, for he used to burn the thigh bones of +goats and kids to him, so he took pleasure in his companionship. It +happened once that Autolycus had gone to Ithaca and had found the child +of his daughter just born. As soon as he had done supper Euryclea set +the infant upon his knees and said, “Autolycus, you must find a name +for your grandson; you greatly wished that you might have one.” + +“Son-in-law and daughter,” replied Autolycus, “call the child thus: I +am highly displeased with a large number of people in one place and +another, both men and women; so name the child ‘Ulysses,’ or the child +of anger. When he grows up and comes to visit his mother’s family on +Mt. Parnassus, where my possessions lie, I will make him a present and +will send him on his way rejoicing.” + +Ulysses, therefore, went to Parnassus to get the presents from +Autolycus, who with his sons shook hands with him and gave him welcome. +His grandmother Amphithea threw her arms about him, and kissed his +head, and both his beautiful eyes, while Autolycus desired his sons to +get dinner ready, and they did as he told them. They brought in a five +year old bull, flayed it, made it ready and divided it into joints; +these they then cut carefully up into smaller pieces and spitted them; +they roasted them sufficiently and served the portions round. Thus +through the livelong day to the going down of the sun they feasted, and +every man had his full share so that all were satisfied; but when the +sun set and it came on dark, they went to bed and enjoyed the boon of +sleep. + +When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, the sons of +Autolycus went out with their hounds hunting, and Ulysses went too. +They climbed the wooded slopes of Parnassus and soon reached its breezy +upland valleys; but as the sun was beginning to beat upon the fields, +fresh-risen from the slow still currents of Oceanus, they came to a +mountain dell. The dogs were in front searching for the tracks of the +beast they were chasing, and after them came the sons of Autolycus, +among whom was Ulysses, close behind the dogs, and he had a long spear +in his hand. Here was the lair of a huge boar among some thick +brushwood, so dense that the wind and rain could not get through it, +nor could the sun’s rays pierce it, and the ground underneath lay thick +with fallen leaves. The boar heard the noise of the men’s feet, and the +hounds baying on every side as the huntsmen came up to him, so he +rushed from his lair, raised the bristles on his neck, and stood at bay +with fire flashing from his eyes. Ulysses was the first to raise his +spear and try to drive it into the brute, but the boar was too quick +for him, and charged him sideways, ripping him above the knee with a +gash that tore deep though it did not reach the bone. As for the boar, +Ulysses hit him on the right shoulder, and the point of the spear went +right through him, so that he fell groaning in the dust until the life +went out of him. The sons of Autolycus busied themselves with the +carcass of the boar, and bound Ulysses’ wound; then, after saying a +spell to stop the bleeding, they went home as fast as they could. But +when Autolycus and his sons had thoroughly healed Ulysses, they made +him some splendid presents, and sent him back to Ithaca with much +mutual good will. When he got back, his father and mother were rejoiced +to see him, and asked him all about it, and how he had hurt himself to +get the scar; so he told them how the boar had ripped him when he was +out hunting with Autolycus and his sons on Mt. Parnassus. + +As soon as Euryclea had got the scarred limb in her hands and had well +hold of it, she recognised it and dropped the foot at once. The leg +fell into the bath, which rang out and was overturned, so that all the +water was spilt on the ground; Euryclea’s eyes between her joy and her +grief filled with tears, and she could not speak, but she caught +Ulysses by the beard and said, “My dear child, I am sure you must be +Ulysses himself, only I did not know you till I had actually touched +and handled you.” + +As she spoke she looked towards Penelope, as though wanting to tell her +that her dear husband was in the house, but Penelope was unable to look +in that direction and observe what was going on, for Minerva had +diverted her attention; so Ulysses caught Euryclea by the throat with +his right hand and with his left drew her close to him, and said, +“Nurse, do you wish to be the ruin of me, you who nursed me at your own +breast, now that after twenty years of wandering I am at last come to +my own home again? Since it has been borne in upon you by heaven to +recognise me, hold your tongue, and do not say a word about it to any +one else in the house, for if you do I tell you—and it shall surely +be—that if heaven grants me to take the lives of these suitors, I will +not spare you, though you are my own nurse, when I am killing the other +women.” + +“My child,” answered Euryclea, “what are you talking about? You know +very well that nothing can either bend or break me. I will hold my +tongue like a stone or a piece of iron; furthermore let me say, and lay +my saying to your heart, when heaven has delivered the suitors into +your hand, I will give you a list of the women in the house who have +been ill-behaved, and of those who are guiltless.” + +And Ulysses answered, “Nurse, you ought not to speak in that way; I am +well able to form my own opinion about one and all of them; hold your +tongue and leave everything to heaven.” + +As he said this Euryclea left the cloister to fetch some more water, +for the first had been all spilt; and when she had washed him and +anointed him with oil, Ulysses drew his seat nearer to the fire to warm +himself, and hid the scar under his rags. Then Penelope began talking +to him and said: + +“Stranger, I should like to speak with you briefly about another +matter. It is indeed nearly bed time—for those, at least, who can sleep +in spite of sorrow. As for myself, heaven has given me a life of such +unmeasurable woe, that even by day when I am attending to my duties and +looking after the servants, I am still weeping and lamenting during the +whole time; then, when night comes, and we all of us go to bed, I lie +awake thinking, and my heart becomes a prey to the most incessant and +cruel tortures. As the dun nightingale, daughter of Pandareus, sings in +the early spring from her seat in shadiest covert hid, and with many a +plaintive trill pours out the tale how by mishap she killed her own +child Itylus, son of king Zethus, even so does my mind toss and turn in +its uncertainty whether I ought to stay with my son here, and safeguard +my substance, my bondsmen, and the greatness of my house, out of regard +to public opinion and the memory of my late husband, or whether it is +not now time for me to go with the best of these suitors who are wooing +me and making me such magnificent presents. As long as my son was still +young, and unable to understand, he would not hear of my leaving my +husband’s house, but now that he is full grown he begs and prays me to +do so, being incensed at the way in which the suitors are eating up his +property. Listen, then, to a dream that I have had and interpret it for +me if you can. I have twenty geese about the house that eat mash out of +a trough,155 and of which I am exceedingly fond. I dreamed that a great +eagle came swooping down from a mountain, and dug his curved beak into +the neck of each of them till he had killed them all. Presently he +soared off into the sky, and left them lying dead about the yard; +whereon I wept in my dream till all my maids gathered round me, so +piteously was I grieving because the eagle had killed my geese. Then he +came back again, and perching on a projecting rafter spoke to me with +human voice, and told me to leave off crying. ‘Be of good courage,’ he +said, ‘daughter of Icarius; this is no dream, but a vision of good omen +that shall surely come to pass. The geese are the suitors, and I am no +longer an eagle, but your own husband, who am come back to you, and who +will bring these suitors to a disgraceful end.’ On this I woke, and +when I looked out I saw my geese at the trough eating their mash as +usual.” + +“This dream, Madam,” replied Ulysses, “can admit but of one +interpretation, for had not Ulysses himself told you how it shall be +fulfilled? The death of the suitors is portended, and not one single +one of them will escape.” + +And Penelope answered, “Stranger, dreams are very curious and +unaccountable things, and they do not by any means invariably come +true. There are two gates through which these unsubstantial fancies +proceed; the one is of horn, and the other ivory. Those that come +through the gate of ivory are fatuous, but those from the gate of horn +mean something to those that see them. I do not think, however, that my +own dream came through the gate of horn, though I and my son should be +most thankful if it proves to have done so. Furthermore I say—and lay +my saying to your heart—the coming dawn will usher in the ill-omened +day that is to sever me from the house of Ulysses, for I am about to +hold a tournament of axes. My husband used to set up twelve axes in the +court, one in front of the other, like the stays upon which a ship is +built; he would then go back from them and shoot an arrow through the +whole twelve. I shall make the suitors try to do the same thing, and +whichever of them can string the bow most easily, and send his arrow +through all the twelve axes, him will I follow, and quit this house of +my lawful husband, so goodly and so abounding in wealth. But even so, I +doubt not that I shall remember it in my dreams.” + +Then Ulysses answered, “Madam, wife of Ulysses, you need not defer your +tournament, for Ulysses will return ere ever they can string the bow, +handle it how they will, and send their arrows through the iron.” + +To this Penelope said, “As long, sir, as you will sit here and talk to +me, I can have no desire to go to bed. Still, people cannot do +permanently without sleep, and heaven has appointed us dwellers on +earth a time for all things. I will therefore go upstairs and recline +upon that couch which I have never ceased to flood with my tears from +the day Ulysses set out for the city with a hateful name.” + +She then went upstairs to her own room, not alone, but attended by her +maidens, and when there, she lamented her dear husband till Minerva +shed sweet sleep over her eyelids. + + + + +BOOK XX + + +ULYSSES CANNOT SLEEP—PENELOPE’S PRAYER TO DIANA—THE TWO SIGNS FROM +HEAVEN—EUMAEUS AND PHILOETIUS ARRIVE—THE SUITORS DINE—CTESIPPUS THROWS +AN OX’S FOOT AT ULYSSES—THEOCLYMENUS FORETELLS DISASTER AND LEAVES THE +HOUSE. + + +Ulysses slept in the cloister upon an undressed bullock’s hide, on the +top of which he threw several skins of the sheep the suitors had eaten, +and Eurynome156 threw a cloak over him after he had laid himself down. +There, then, Ulysses lay wakefully brooding upon the way in which he +should kill the suitors; and by and by, the women who had been in the +habit of misconducting themselves with them, left the house giggling +and laughing with one another. This made Ulysses very angry, and he +doubted whether to get up and kill every single one of them then and +there, or to let them sleep one more and last time with the suitors. +His heart growled within him, and as a bitch with puppies growls and +shows her teeth when she sees a stranger, so did his heart growl with +anger at the evil deeds that were being done: but he beat his breast +and said, “Heart, be still, you had worse than this to bear on the day +when the terrible Cyclops ate your brave companions; yet you bore it in +silence till your cunning got you safe out of the cave, though you made +sure of being killed.” + +Thus he chided with his heart, and checked it into endurance, but he +tossed about as one who turns a paunch full of blood and fat in front +of a hot fire, doing it first on one side and then on the other, that +he may get it cooked as soon as possible, even so did he turn himself +about from side to side, thinking all the time how, single handed as he +was, he should contrive to kill so large a body of men as the wicked +suitors. But by and by Minerva came down from heaven in the likeness of +a woman, and hovered over his head saying, “My poor unhappy man, why do +you lie awake in this way? This is your house: your wife is safe inside +it, and so is your son who is just such a young man as any father may +be proud of.” + +“Goddess,” answered Ulysses, “all that you have said is true, but I am +in some doubt as to how I shall be able to kill these wicked suitors +single handed, seeing what a number of them there always are. And there +is this further difficulty, which is still more considerable. Supposing +that with Jove’s and your assistance I succeed in killing them, I must +ask you to consider where I am to escape to from their avengers when it +is all over.” + +“For shame,” replied Minerva, “why, any one else would trust a worse +ally than myself, even though that ally were only a mortal and less +wise than I am. Am I not a goddess, and have I not protected you +throughout in all your troubles? I tell you plainly that even though +there were fifty bands of men surrounding us and eager to kill us, you +should take all their sheep and cattle, and drive them away with you. +But go to sleep; it is a very bad thing to lie awake all night, and you +shall be out of your troubles before long.” + +As she spoke she shed sleep over his eyes, and then went back to +Olympus. + +While Ulysses was thus yielding himself to a very deep slumber that +eased the burden of his sorrows, his admirable wife awoke, and sitting +up in her bed began to cry. When she had relieved herself by weeping +she prayed to Diana saying, “Great Goddess Diana, daughter of Jove, +drive an arrow into my heart and slay me; or let some whirlwind snatch +me up and bear me through paths of darkness till it drop me into the +mouths of over-flowing Oceanus, as it did the daughters of Pandareus. +The daughters of Pandareus lost their father and mother, for the gods +killed them, so they were left orphans. But Venus took care of them, +and fed them on cheese, honey, and sweet wine. Juno taught them to +excel all women in beauty of form and understanding; Diana gave them an +imposing presence, and Minerva endowed them with every kind of +accomplishment; but one day when Venus had gone up to Olympus to see +Jove about getting them married (for well does he know both what shall +happen and what not happen to every one) the storm winds came and +spirited them away to become handmaids to the dread Erinyes. Even so I +wish that the gods who live in heaven would hide me from mortal sight, +or that fair Diana might strike me, for I would fain go even beneath +the sad earth if I might do so still looking towards Ulysses only, and +without having to yield myself to a worse man than he was. Besides, no +matter how much people may grieve by day, they can put up with it so +long as they can sleep at night, for when the eyes are closed in +slumber people forget good and ill alike; whereas my misery haunts me +even in my dreams. This very night methought there was one lying by my +side who was like Ulysses as he was when he went away with his host, +and I rejoiced, for I believed that it was no dream, but the very truth +itself.” + +On this the day broke, but Ulysses heard the sound of her weeping, and +it puzzled him, for it seemed as though she already knew him and was by +his side. Then he gathered up the cloak and the fleeces on which he had +lain, and set them on a seat in the cloister, but he took the bullock’s +hide out into the open. He lifted up his hands to heaven, and prayed, +saying “Father Jove, since you have seen fit to bring me over land and +sea to my own home after all the afflictions you have laid upon me, +give me a sign out of the mouth of some one or other of those who are +now waking within the house, and let me have another sign of some kind +from outside.” + +Thus did he pray. Jove heard his prayer and forthwith thundered high up +among the clouds from the splendour of Olympus, and Ulysses was glad +when he heard it. At the same time within the house, a miller-woman +from hard by in the mill room lifted up her voice and gave him another +sign. There were twelve miller-women whose business it was to grind +wheat and barley which are the staff of life. The others had ground +their task and had gone to take their rest, but this one had not yet +finished, for she was not so strong as they were, and when she heard +the thunder she stopped grinding and gave the sign to her master. +“Father Jove,” said she, “you, who rule over heaven and earth, you have +thundered from a clear sky without so much as a cloud in it, and this +means something for somebody; grant the prayer, then, of me your poor +servant who calls upon you, and let this be the very last day that the +suitors dine in the house of Ulysses. They have worn me out with labour +of grinding meal for them, and I hope they may never have another +dinner anywhere at all.” + +Ulysses was glad when he heard the omens conveyed to him by the woman’s +speech, and by the thunder, for he knew they meant that he should +avenge himself on the suitors. + +Then the other maids in the house rose and lit the fire on the hearth; +Telemachus also rose and put on his clothes. He girded his sword about +his shoulder, bound his sandals on to his comely feet, and took a +doughty spear with a point of sharpened bronze; then he went to the +threshold of the cloister and said to Euryclea, “Nurse, did you make +the stranger comfortable both as regards bed and board, or did you let +him shift for himself?—for my mother, good woman though she is, has a +way of paying great attention to second-rate people, and of neglecting +others who are in reality much better men.” + +“Do not find fault child,” said Euryclea, “when there is no one to find +fault with. The stranger sat and drank his wine as long as he liked: +your mother did ask him if he would take any more bread and he said he +would not. When he wanted to go to bed she told the servants to make +one for him, but he said he was such a wretched outcast that he would +not sleep on a bed and under blankets; he insisted on having an +undressed bullock’s hide and some sheepskins put for him in the +cloister and I threw a cloak over him myself.”157 + +Then Telemachus went out of the court to the place where the Achaeans +were meeting in assembly; he had his spear in his hand, and he was not +alone, for his two dogs went with him. But Euryclea called the maids +and said, “Come, wake up; set about sweeping the cloisters and +sprinkling them with water to lay the dust; put the covers on the +seats; wipe down the tables, some of you, with a wet sponge; clean out +the mixing-jugs and the cups, and go for water from the fountain at +once; the suitors will be here directly; they will be here early, for +it is a feast day.” + +Thus did she speak, and they did even as she had said: twenty of them +went to the fountain for water, and the others set themselves busily to +work about the house. The men who were in attendance on the suitors +also came up and began chopping firewood. By and by the women returned +from the fountain, and the swineherd came after them with the three +best pigs he could pick out. These he let feed about the premises, and +then he said good-humouredly to Ulysses, “Stranger, are the suitors +treating you any better now, or are they as insolent as ever?” + +“May heaven,” answered Ulysses, “requite to them the wickedness with +which they deal high-handedly in another man’s house without any sense +of shame.” + +Thus did they converse; meanwhile Melanthius the goatherd came up, for +he too was bringing in his best goats for the suitors’ dinner; and he +had two shepherds with him. They tied the goats up under the gatehouse, +and then Melanthius began gibing at Ulysses. “Are you still here, +stranger,” said he, “to pester people by begging about the house? Why +can you not go elsewhere? You and I shall not come to an understanding +before we have given each other a taste of our fists. You beg without +any sense of decency: are there not feasts elsewhere among the +Achaeans, as well as here?” + +Ulysses made no answer, but bowed his head and brooded. Then a third +man, Philoetius, joined them, who was bringing in a barren heifer and +some goats. These were brought over by the boatmen who are there to +take people over when any one comes to them. So Philoetius made his +heifer and his goats secure under the gatehouse, and then went up to +the swineherd. “Who, Swineherd,” said he, “is this stranger that is +lately come here? Is he one of your men? What is his family? Where does +he come from? Poor fellow, he looks as if he had been some great man, +but the gods give sorrow to whom they will—even to kings if it so +pleases them.” + +As he spoke he went up to Ulysses and saluted him with his right hand; +“Good day to you, father stranger,” said he, “you seem to be very +poorly off now, but I hope you will have better times by and by. Father +Jove, of all gods you are the most malicious. We are your own children, +yet you show us no mercy in all our misery and afflictions. A sweat +came over me when I saw this man, and my eyes filled with tears, for he +reminds me of Ulysses, who I fear is going about in just such rags as +this man’s are, if indeed he is still among the living. If he is +already dead and in the house of Hades, then, alas! for my good master, +who made me his stockman when I was quite young among the +Cephallenians, and now his cattle are countless; no one could have done +better with them than I have, for they have bred like ears of corn; +nevertheless I have to keep bringing them in for others to eat, who +take no heed to his son though he is in the house, and fear not the +wrath of heaven, but are already eager to divide Ulysses’ property +among them because he has been away so long. I have often thought—only +it would not be right while his son is living—of going off with the +cattle to some foreign country; bad as this would be, it is still +harder to stay here and be ill-treated about other people’s herds. My +position is intolerable, and I should long since have run away and put +myself under the protection of some other chief, only that I believe my +poor master will yet return, and send all these suitors flying out of +the house.” + +“Stockman,” answered Ulysses, “you seem to be a very well-disposed +person, and I can see that you are a man of sense. Therefore I will +tell you, and will confirm my words with an oath. By Jove, the chief of +all gods, and by that hearth of Ulysses to which I am now come, Ulysses +shall return before you leave this place, and if you are so minded you +shall see him killing the suitors who are now masters here.” + +“If Jove were to bring this to pass,” replied the stockman, “you should +see how I would do my very utmost to help him.” + +And in like manner Eumaeus prayed that Ulysses might return home. + +Thus did they converse. Meanwhile the suitors were hatching a plot to +murder Telemachus: but a bird flew near them on their left hand—an +eagle with a dove in its talons. On this Amphinomus said, “My friends, +this plot of ours to murder Telemachus will not succeed; let us go to +dinner instead.” + +The others assented, so they went inside and laid their cloaks on the +benches and seats. They sacrificed the sheep, goats, pigs, and the +heifer, and when the inward meats were cooked they served them round. +They mixed the wine in the mixing-bowls, and the swineherd gave every +man his cup, while Philoetius handed round the bread in the bread +baskets, and Melanthius poured them out their wine. Then they laid +their hands upon the good things that were before them. + +Telemachus purposely made Ulysses sit in the part of the cloister that +was paved with stone;158 he gave him a shabby looking seat at a little +table to himself, and had his portion of the inward meats brought to +him, with his wine in a gold cup. “Sit there,” said he, “and drink your +wine among the great people. I will put a stop to the gibes and blows +of the suitors, for this is no public house, but belongs to Ulysses, +and has passed from him to me. Therefore, suitors, keep your hands and +your tongues to yourselves, or there will be mischief.” + +The suitors bit their lips, and marvelled at the boldness of his +speech; then Antinous said, “We do not like such language but we will +put up with it, for Telemachus is threatening us in good earnest. If +Jove had let us we should have put a stop to his brave talk ere now.” + +Thus spoke Antinous, but Telemachus heeded him not. Meanwhile the +heralds were bringing the holy hecatomb through the city, and the +Achaeans gathered under the shady grove of Apollo. + +Then they roasted the outer meat, drew it off the spits, gave every man +his portion, and feasted to their heart’s content; those who waited at +table gave Ulysses exactly the same portion as the others had, for +Telemachus had told them to do so. + +But Minerva would not let the suitors for one moment drop their +insolence, for she wanted Ulysses to become still more bitter against +them. Now there happened to be among them a ribald fellow, whose name +was Ctesippus, and who came from Same. This man, confident in his great +wealth, was paying court to the wife of Ulysses, and said to the +suitors, “Hear what I have to say. The stranger has already had as +large a portion as any one else; this is well, for it is not right nor +reasonable to ill-treat any guest of Telemachus who comes here. I will, +however, make him a present on my own account, that he may have +something to give to the bath-woman, or to some other of Ulysses’ +servants.” + +As he spoke he picked up a heifer’s foot from the meat-basket in which +it lay, and threw it at Ulysses, but Ulysses turned his head a little +aside, and avoided it, smiling grimly Sardinian fashion159 as he did +so, and it hit the wall, not him. On this Telemachus spoke fiercely to +Ctesippus, “It is a good thing for you,” said he, “that the stranger +turned his head so that you missed him. If you had hit him I should +have run you through with my spear, and your father would have had to +see about getting you buried rather than married in this house. So let +me have no more unseemly behaviour from any of you, for I am grown up +now to the knowledge of good and evil and understand what is going on, +instead of being the child that I have been heretofore. I have long +seen you killing my sheep and making free with my corn and wine: I have +put up with this, for one man is no match for many, but do me no +further violence. Still, if you wish to kill me, kill me; I would far +rather die than see such disgraceful scenes day after day—guests +insulted, and men dragging the women servants about the house in an +unseemly way.” + +They all held their peace till at last Agelaus son of Damastor said, +“No one should take offence at what has just been said, nor gainsay it, +for it is quite reasonable. Leave off, therefore, ill-treating the +stranger, or any one else of the servants who are about the house; I +would say, however, a friendly word to Telemachus and his mother, which +I trust may commend itself to both. ‘As long,’ I would say, ‘as you had +ground for hoping that Ulysses would one day come home, no one could +complain of your waiting and suffering160 the suitors to be in your +house. It would have been better that he should have returned, but it +is now sufficiently clear that he will never do so; therefore talk all +this quietly over with your mother, and tell her to marry the best man, +and the one who makes her the most advantageous offer. Thus you will +yourself be able to manage your own inheritance, and to eat and drink +in peace, while your mother will look after some other man’s house, not +yours.’” + +To this Telemachus answered, “By Jove, Agelaus, and by the sorrows of +my unhappy father, who has either perished far from Ithaca, or is +wandering in some distant land, I throw no obstacles in the way of my +mother’s marriage; on the contrary I urge her to choose whomsoever she +will, and I will give her numberless gifts into the bargain, but I dare +not insist point blank that she shall leave the house against her own +wishes. Heaven forbid that I should do this.” + +Minerva now made the suitors fall to laughing immoderately, and set +their wits wandering; but they were laughing with a forced laughter. +Their meat became smeared with blood; their eyes filled with tears, and +their hearts were heavy with forebodings. Theoclymenus saw this and +said, “Unhappy men, what is it that ails you? There is a shroud of +darkness drawn over you from head to foot, your cheeks are wet with +tears; the air is alive with wailing voices; the walls and roof-beams +drip blood; the gate of the cloisters and the court beyond them are +full of ghosts trooping down into the night of hell; the sun is blotted +out of heaven, and a blighting gloom is over all the land.” + +Thus did he speak, and they all of them laughed heartily. Eurymachus +then said, “This stranger who has lately come here has lost his senses. +Servants, turn him out into the streets, since he finds it so dark +here.” + +But Theoclymenus said, “Eurymachus, you need not send any one with me. +I have eyes, ears, and a pair of feet of my own, to say nothing of an +understanding mind. I will take these out of the house with me, for I +see mischief overhanging you, from which not one of you men who are +insulting people and plotting ill deeds in the house of Ulysses will be +able to escape.” + +He left the house as he spoke, and went back to Piraeus who gave him +welcome, but the suitors kept looking at one another and provoking +Telemachus by laughing at the strangers. One insolent fellow said to +him, “Telemachus, you are not happy in your guests; first you have this +importunate tramp, who comes begging bread and wine and has no skill +for work or for hard fighting, but is perfectly useless, and now here +is another fellow who is setting himself up as a prophet. Let me +persuade you, for it will be much better to put them on board ship and +send them off to the Sicels to sell for what they will bring.” + +Telemachus gave him no heed, but sat silently watching his father, +expecting every moment that he would begin his attack upon the suitors. + +Meanwhile the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, had had a rich seat +placed for her facing the court and cloisters, so that she could hear +what every one was saying. The dinner indeed had been prepared amid +much merriment; it had been both good and abundant, for they had +sacrificed many victims; but the supper was yet to come, and nothing +can be conceived more gruesome than the meal which a goddess and a +brave man were soon to lay before them—for they had brought their doom +upon themselves. + + + + +BOOK XXI + + +THE TRIAL OF THE AXES, DURING WHICH ULYSSES REVEALS HIMSELF TO EUMAEUS +AND PHILOETIUS + + +Minerva now put it in Penelope’s mind to make the suitors try their +skill with the bow and with the iron axes, in contest among themselves, +as a means of bringing about their destruction. She went upstairs and +got the store-room key, which was made of bronze and had a handle of +ivory; she then went with her maidens into the store-room at the end of +the house, where her husband’s treasures of gold, bronze, and wrought +iron were kept, and where was also his bow, and the quiver full of +deadly arrows that had been given him by a friend whom he had met in +Lacedaemon—Iphitus the son of Eurytus. The two fell in with one another +in Messene at the house of Ortilochus, where Ulysses was staying in +order to recover a debt that was owing from the whole people; for the +Messenians had carried off three hundred sheep from Ithaca, and had +sailed away with them and with their shepherds. In quest of these +Ulysses took a long journey while still quite young, for his father and +the other chieftains sent him on a mission to recover them. Iphitus had +gone there also to try and get back twelve brood mares that he had +lost, and the mule foals that were running with them. These mares were +the death of him in the end, for when he went to the house of Jove’s +son, mighty Hercules, who performed such prodigies of valour, Hercules +to his shame killed him, though he was his guest, for he feared not +heaven’s vengeance, nor yet respected his own table which he had set +before Iphitus, but killed him in spite of everything, and kept the +mares himself. It was when claiming these that Iphitus met Ulysses, and +gave him the bow which mighty Eurytus had been used to carry, and which +on his death had been left by him to his son. Ulysses gave him in +return a sword and a spear, and this was the beginning of a fast +friendship, although they never visited at one another’s houses, for +Jove’s son Hercules killed Iphitus ere they could do so. This bow, +then, given him by Iphitus, had not been taken with him by Ulysses when +he sailed for Troy; he had used it so long as he had been at home, but +had left it behind as having been a keepsake from a valued friend. + +Penelope presently reached the oak threshold of the store-room; the +carpenter had planed this duly, and had drawn a line on it so as to get +it quite straight; he had then set the door posts into it and hung the +doors. She loosed the strap from the handle of the door, put in the +key, and drove it straight home to shoot back the bolts that held the +doors;161 these flew open with a noise like a bull bellowing in a +meadow, and Penelope stepped upon the raised platform, where the chests +stood in which the fair linen and clothes were laid by along with +fragrant herbs: reaching thence, she took down the bow with its bow +case from the peg on which it hung. She sat down with it on her knees, +weeping bitterly as she took the bow out of its case, and when her +tears had relieved her, she went to the cloister where the suitors +were, carrying the bow and the quiver, with the many deadly arrows that +were inside it. Along with her came her maidens, bearing a chest that +contained much iron and bronze which her husband had won as prizes. +When she reached the suitors, she stood by one of the bearing-posts +supporting the roof of the cloister, holding a veil before her face, +and with a maid on either side of her. Then she said: + +“Listen to me you suitors, who persist in abusing the hospitality of +this house because its owner has been long absent, and without other +pretext than that you want to marry me; this, then, being the prize +that you are contending for, I will bring out the mighty bow of +Ulysses, and whomsoever of you shall string it most easily and send his +arrow through each one of twelve axes, him will I follow and quit this +house of my lawful husband, so goodly, and so abounding in wealth. But +even so I doubt not that I shall remember it in my dreams.” + +As she spoke, she told Eumaeus to set the bow and the pieces of iron +before the suitors, and Eumaeus wept as he took them to do as she had +bidden him. Hard by, the stockman wept also when he saw his master’s +bow, but Antinous scolded them. “You country louts,” said he, “silly +simpletons; why should you add to the sorrows of your mistress by +crying in this way? She has enough to grieve her in the loss of her +husband; sit still, therefore, and eat your dinners in silence, or go +outside if you want to cry, and leave the bow behind you. We suitors +shall have to contend for it with might and main, for we shall find it +no light matter to string such a bow as this is. There is not a man of +us all who is such another as Ulysses; for I have seen him and remember +him, though I was then only a child.” + +This was what he said, but all the time he was expecting to be able to +string the bow and shoot through the iron, whereas in fact he was to be +the first that should taste of the arrows from the hands of Ulysses, +whom he was dishonouring in his own house—egging the others on to do so +also. + +Then Telemachus spoke. “Great heavens!” he exclaimed, “Jove must have +robbed me of my senses. Here is my dear and excellent mother saying she +will quit this house and marry again, yet I am laughing and enjoying +myself as though there were nothing happening. But, suitors, as the +contest has been agreed upon, let it go forward. It is for a woman +whose peer is not to be found in Pylos, Argos, or Mycene, nor yet in +Ithaca nor on the mainland. You know this as well as I do; what need +have I to speak in praise of my mother? Come on, then, make no excuses +for delay, but let us see whether you can string the bow or no. I too +will make trial of it, for if I can string it and shoot through the +iron, I shall not suffer my mother to quit this house with a stranger, +not if I can win the prizes which my father won before me.” + +As he spoke he sprang from his seat, threw his crimson cloak from him, +and took his sword from his shoulder. First he set the axes in a row, +in a long groove which he had dug for them, and had made straight by +line.162 Then he stamped the earth tight round them, and everyone was +surprised when they saw him set them up so orderly, though he had never +seen anything of the kind before. This done, he went on to the pavement +to make trial of the bow; thrice did he tug at it, trying with all his +might to draw the string, and thrice he had to leave off, though he had +hoped to string the bow and shoot through the iron. He was trying for +the fourth time, and would have strung it had not Ulysses made a sign +to check him in spite of all his eagerness. So he said: + +“Alas! I shall either be always feeble and of no prowess, or I am too +young, and have not yet reached my full strength so as to be able to +hold my own if any one attacks me. You others, therefore, who are +stronger than I, make trial of the bow and get this contest settled.” + +On this he put the bow down, letting it lean against the door [that led +into the house] with the arrow standing against the top of the bow. +Then he sat down on the seat from which he had risen, and Antinous +said: + +“Come on each of you in his turn, going towards the right from the +place at which the cupbearer begins when he is handing round the wine.” + +The rest agreed, and Leiodes son of Oenops was the first to rise. He +was sacrificial priest to the suitors, and sat in the corner near the +mixing-bowl. 163 He was the only man who hated their evil deeds and was +indignant with the others. He was now the first to take the bow and +arrow, so he went on to the pavement to make his trial, but he could +not string the bow, for his hands were weak and unused to hard work, +they therefore soon grew tired, and he said to the suitors, “My +friends, I cannot string it; let another have it, this bow shall take +the life and soul out of many a chief among us, for it is better to die +than to live after having missed the prize that we have so long striven +for, and which has brought us so long together. Some one of us is even +now hoping and praying that he may marry Penelope, but when he has seen +this bow and tried it, let him woo and make bridal offerings to some +other woman, and let Penelope marry whoever makes her the best offer +and whose lot it is to win her.” + +On this he put the bow down, letting it lean against the door,164 with +the arrow standing against the tip of the bow. Then he took his seat +again on the seat from which he had risen; and Antinous rebuked him +saying: + +“Leiodes, what are you talking about? Your words are monstrous and +intolerable; it makes me angry to listen to you. Shall, then, this bow +take the life of many a chief among us, merely because you cannot bend +it yourself? True, you were not born to be an archer, but there are +others who will soon string it.” + +Then he said to Melanthius the goatherd, “Look sharp, light a fire in +the court, and set a seat hard by with a sheep skin on it; bring us +also a large ball of lard, from what they have in the house. Let us +warm the bow and grease it—we will then make trial of it again, and +bring the contest to an end.” + +Melanthius lit the fire, and set a seat covered with sheep skins beside +it. He also brought a great ball of lard from what they had in the +house, and the suitors warmed the bow and again made trial of it, but +they were none of them nearly strong enough to string it. Nevertheless +there still remained Antinous and Eurymachus, who were the ringleaders +among the suitors and much the foremost among them all. + +Then the swineherd and the stockman left the cloisters together, and +Ulysses followed them. When they had got outside the gates and the +outer yard, Ulysses said to them quietly: + +“Stockman, and you swineherd, I have something in my mind which I am in +doubt whether to say or no; but I think I will say it. What manner of +men would you be to stand by Ulysses, if some god should bring him back +here all of a sudden? Say which you are disposed to do—to side with the +suitors, or with Ulysses?” + +“Father Jove,” answered the stockman, “would indeed that you might so +ordain it. If some god were but to bring Ulysses back, you should see +with what might and main I would fight for him.” + +In like words Eumaeus prayed to all the gods that Ulysses might return; +when, therefore, he saw for certain what mind they were of, Ulysses +said, “It is I, Ulysses, who am here. I have suffered much, but at +last, in the twentieth year, I am come back to my own country. I find +that you two alone of all my servants are glad that I should do so, for +I have not heard any of the others praying for my return. To you two, +therefore, will I unfold the truth as it shall be. If heaven shall +deliver the suitors into my hands, I will find wives for both of you, +will give you house and holding close to my own, and you shall be to me +as though you were brothers and friends of Telemachus. I will now give +you convincing proofs that you may know me and be assured. See, here is +the scar from the boar’s tooth that ripped me when I was out hunting on +Mt. Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.” + +As he spoke he drew his rags aside from the great scar, and when they +had examined it thoroughly, they both of them wept about Ulysses, threw +their arms round him, and kissed his head and shoulders, while Ulysses +kissed their hands and faces in return. The sun would have gone down +upon their mourning if Ulysses had not checked them and said: + +“Cease your weeping, lest some one should come outside and see us, and +tell those who are within. When you go in, do so separately, not both +together; I will go first, and do you follow afterwards; let this +moreover be the token between us; the suitors will all of them try to +prevent me from getting hold of the bow and quiver; do you, therefore, +Eumaeus, place it in my hands when you are carrying it about, and tell +the women to close the doors of their apartment. If they hear any +groaning or uproar as of men fighting about the house, they must not +come out; they must keep quiet, and stay where they are at their work. +And I charge you, Philoetius, to make fast the doors of the outer +court, and to bind them securely at once.” + +When he had thus spoken, he went back to the house and took the seat +that he had left. Presently, his two servants followed him inside. + +At this moment the bow was in the hands of Eurymachus, who was warming +it by the fire, but even so he could not string it, and he was greatly +grieved. He heaved a deep sigh and said, “I grieve for myself and for +us all; I grieve that I shall have to forgo the marriage, but I do not +care nearly so much about this, for there are plenty of other women in +Ithaca and elsewhere; what I feel most is the fact of our being so +inferior to Ulysses in strength that we cannot string his bow. This +will disgrace us in the eyes of those who are yet unborn.” + +“It shall not be so, Eurymachus,” said Antinous, “and you know it +yourself. Today is the feast of Apollo throughout all the land; who can +string a bow on such a day as this? Put it on one side—as for the axes +they can stay where they are, for no one is likely to come to the house +and take them away: let the cupbearer go round with his cups, that we +may make our drink-offerings and drop this matter of the bow; we will +tell Melanthius to bring us in some goats tomorrow—the best he has; we +can then offer thigh bones to Apollo the mighty archer, and again make +trial of the bow, so as to bring the contest to an end.” + +The rest approved his words, and thereon men servants poured water over +the hands of the guests, while pages filled the mixing-bowls with wine +and water and handed it round after giving every man his +drink-offering. Then, when they had made their offerings and had drunk +each as much as he desired, Ulysses craftily said:— + +“Suitors of the illustrious queen, listen that I may speak even as I am +minded. I appeal more especially to Eurymachus, and to Antinous who has +just spoken with so much reason. Cease shooting for the present and +leave the matter to the gods, but in the morning let heaven give +victory to whom it will. For the moment, however, give me the bow that +I may prove the power of my hands among you all, and see whether I +still have as much strength as I used to have, or whether travel and +neglect have made an end of it.” + +This made them all very angry, for they feared he might string the bow, +Antinous therefore rebuked him fiercely saying, “Wretched creature, you +have not so much as a grain of sense in your whole body; you ought to +think yourself lucky in being allowed to dine unharmed among your +betters, without having any smaller portion served you than we others +have had, and in being allowed to hear our conversation. No other +beggar or stranger has been allowed to hear what we say among +ourselves; the wine must have been doing you a mischief, as it does +with all those who drink immoderately. It was wine that inflamed the +Centaur Eurytion when he was staying with Peirithous among the +Lapithae. When the wine had got into his head, he went mad and did ill +deeds about the house of Peirithous; this angered the heroes who were +there assembled, so they rushed at him and cut off his ears and +nostrils; then they dragged him through the doorway out of the house, +so he went away crazed, and bore the burden of his crime, bereft of +understanding. Henceforth, therefore, there was war between mankind and +the centaurs, but he brought it upon himself through his own +drunkenness. In like manner I can tell you that it will go hardly with +you if you string the bow: you will find no mercy from any one here, +for we shall at once ship you off to king Echetus, who kills every one +that comes near him: you will never get away alive, so drink and keep +quiet without getting into a quarrel with men younger than yourself.” + +Penelope then spoke to him. “Antinous,” said she, “it is not right that +you should ill-treat any guest of Telemachus who comes to this house. +If the stranger should prove strong enough to string the mighty bow of +Ulysses, can you suppose that he would take me home with him and make +me his wife? Even the man himself can have no such idea in his mind: +none of you need let that disturb his feasting; it would be out of all +reason.” + +“Queen Penelope,” answered Eurymachus, “we do not suppose that this man +will take you away with him; it is impossible; but we are afraid lest +some of the baser sort, men or women among the Achaeans, should go +gossiping about and say, ‘These suitors are a feeble folk; they are +paying court to the wife of a brave man whose bow not one of them was +able to string, and yet a beggarly tramp who came to the house strung +it at once and sent an arrow through the iron.’ This is what will be +said, and it will be a scandal against us.” + +“Eurymachus,” Penelope answered, “people who persist in eating up the +estate of a great chieftain and dishonouring his house must not expect +others to think well of them. Why then should you mind if men talk as +you think they will? This stranger is strong and well-built, he says +moreover that he is of noble birth. Give him the bow, and let us see +whether he can string it or no. I say—and it shall surely be—that if +Apollo vouchsafes him the glory of stringing it, I will give him a +cloak and shirt of good wear, with a javelin to keep off dogs and +robbers, and a sharp sword. I will also give him sandals, and will see +him sent safely wherever he wants to go.” + +Then Telemachus said, “Mother, I am the only man either in Ithaca or in +the islands that are over against Elis who has the right to let any one +have the bow or to refuse it. No one shall force me one way or the +other, not even though I choose to make the stranger a present of the +bow outright, and let him take it away with him. Go, then, within the +house and busy yourself with your daily duties, your loom, your +distaff, and the ordering of your servants. This bow is a man’s matter, +and mine above all others, for it is I who am master here.” + +She went wondering back into the house, and laid her son’s saying in +her heart. Then going upstairs with her handmaids into her room, she +mourned her dear husband till Minerva sent sweet sleep over her +eyelids. + +The swineherd now took up the bow and was for taking it to Ulysses, but +the suitors clamoured at him from all parts of the cloisters, and one +of them said, “You idiot, where are you taking the bow to? Are you out +of your wits? If Apollo and the other gods will grant our prayer, your +own boarhounds shall get you into some quiet little place, and worry +you to death.” + +Eumaeus was frightened at the outcry they all raised, so he put the bow +down then and there, but Telemachus shouted out at him from the other +side of the cloisters, and threatened him saying, “Father Eumaeus, +bring the bow on in spite of them, or young as I am I will pelt you +with stones back to the country, for I am the better man of the two. I +wish I was as much stronger than all the other suitors in the house as +I am than you, I would soon send some of them off sick and sorry, for +they mean mischief.” + +Thus did he speak, and they all of them laughed heartily, which put +them in a better humour with Telemachus; so Eumaeus brought the bow on +and placed it in the hands of Ulysses. When he had done this, he called +Euryclea apart and said to her, “Euryclea, Telemachus says you are to +close the doors of the women’s apartments. If they hear any groaning or +uproar as of men fighting about the house, they are not to come out, +but are to keep quiet and stay where they are at their work.” + +Euryclea did as she was told and closed the doors of the women’s +apartments. + +Meanwhile Philoetius slipped quietly out and made fast the gates of the +outer court. There was a ship’s cable of byblus fibre lying in the +gatehouse, so he made the gates fast with it and then came in again, +resuming the seat that he had left, and keeping an eye on Ulysses, who +had now got the bow in his hands, and was turning it every way about, +and proving it all over to see whether the worms had been eating into +its two horns during his absence. Then would one turn towards his +neighbour saying, “This is some tricky old bow-fancier; either he has +got one like it at home, or he wants to make one, in such workmanlike +style does the old vagabond handle it.” + +Another said, “I hope he may be no more successful in other things than +he is likely to be in stringing this bow.” + +But Ulysses, when he had taken it up and examined it all over, strung +it as easily as a skilled bard strings a new peg of his lyre and makes +the twisted gut fast at both ends. Then he took it in his right hand to +prove the string, and it sang sweetly under his touch like the +twittering of a swallow. The suitors were dismayed, and turned colour +as they heard it; at that moment, moreover, Jove thundered loudly as a +sign, and the heart of Ulysses rejoiced as he heard the omen that the +son of scheming Saturn had sent him. + +He took an arrow that was lying upon the table165—for those which the +Achaeans were so shortly about to taste were all inside the quiver—he +laid it on the centre-piece of the bow, and drew the notch of the arrow +and the string toward him, still seated on his seat. When he had taken +aim he let fly, and his arrow pierced every one of the handle-holes of +the axes from the first onwards till it had gone right through them, +and into the outer courtyard. Then he said to Telemachus: + +“Your guest has not disgraced you, Telemachus. I did not miss what I +aimed at, and I was not long in stringing my bow. I am still strong, +and not as the suitors twit me with being. Now, however, it is time for +the Achaeans to prepare supper while there is still daylight, and then +otherwise to disport themselves with song and dance which are the +crowning ornaments of a banquet.” + +As he spoke he made a sign with his eyebrows, and Telemachus girded on +his sword, grasped his spear, and stood armed beside his father’s seat. + + + + +BOOK XXII + + +THE KILLING OF THE SUITORS—THE MAIDS WHO HAVE MISCONDUCTED THEMSELVES +ARE MADE TO CLEANSE THE CLOISTERS AND ARE THEN HANGED. + + +Then Ulysses tore off his rags, and sprang on to the broad pavement +with his bow and his quiver full of arrows. He shed the arrows on to +the ground at his feet and said, “The mighty contest is at an end. I +will now see whether Apollo will vouchsafe it to me to hit another mark +which no man has yet hit.” + +On this he aimed a deadly arrow at Antinous, who was about to take up a +two-handled gold cup to drink his wine and already had it in his hands. +He had no thought of death—who amongst all the revellers would think +that one man, however brave, would stand alone among so many and kill +him? The arrow struck Antinous in the throat, and the point went clean +through his neck, so that he fell over and the cup dropped from his +hand, while a thick stream of blood gushed from his nostrils. He kicked +the table from him and upset the things on it, so that the bread and +roasted meats were all soiled as they fell over on to the ground.166 +The suitors were in an uproar when they saw that a man had been hit; +they sprang in dismay one and all of them from their seats and looked +everywhere towards the walls, but there was neither shield nor spear, +and they rebuked Ulysses very angrily. “Stranger,” said they, “you +shall pay for shooting people in this way: you shall see no other +contest; you are a doomed man; he whom you have slain was the foremost +youth in Ithaca, and the vultures shall devour you for having killed +him.” + +Thus they spoke, for they thought that he had killed Antinous by +mistake, and did not perceive that death was hanging over the head of +every one of them. But Ulysses glared at them and said: + +“Dogs, did you think that I should not come back from Troy? You have +wasted my substance,167 have forced my women servants to lie with you, +and have wooed my wife while I was still living. You have feared +neither God nor man, and now you shall die.” + +They turned pale with fear as he spoke, and every man looked round +about to see whither he might fly for safety, but Eurymachus alone +spoke. + +“If you are Ulysses,” said he, “then what you have said is just. We +have done much wrong on your lands and in your house. But Antinous who +was the head and front of the offending lies low already. It was all +his doing. It was not that he wanted to marry Penelope; he did not so +much care about that; what he wanted was something quite different, and +Jove has not vouchsafed it to him; he wanted to kill your son and to be +chief man in Ithaca. Now, therefore, that he has met the death which +was his due, spare the lives of your people. We will make everything +good among ourselves, and pay you in full for all that we have eaten +and drunk. Each one of us shall pay you a fine worth twenty oxen, and +we will keep on giving you gold and bronze till your heart is softened. +Until we have done this no one can complain of your being enraged +against us.” + +Ulysses again glared at him and said, “Though you should give me all +that you have in the world both now and all that you ever shall have, I +will not stay my hand till I have paid all of you in full. You must +fight, or fly for your lives; and fly, not a man of you shall.” + +Their hearts sank as they heard him, but Eurymachus again spoke saying: + +“My friends, this man will give us no quarter. He will stand where he +is and shoot us down till he has killed every man among us. Let us then +show fight; draw your swords, and hold up the tables to shield you from +his arrows. Let us have at him with a rush, to drive him from the +pavement and doorway: we can then get through into the town, and raise +such an alarm as shall soon stay his shooting.” + +As he spoke he drew his keen blade of bronze, sharpened on both sides, +and with a loud cry sprang towards Ulysses, but Ulysses instantly shot +an arrow into his breast that caught him by the nipple and fixed itself +in his liver. He dropped his sword and fell doubled up over his table. +The cup and all the meats went over on to the ground as he smote the +earth with his forehead in the agonies of death, and he kicked the +stool with his feet until his eyes were closed in darkness. + +Then Amphinomus drew his sword and made straight at Ulysses to try and +get him away from the door; but Telemachus was too quick for him, and +struck him from behind; the spear caught him between the shoulders and +went right through his chest, so that he fell heavily to the ground and +struck the earth with his forehead. Then Telemachus sprang away from +him, leaving his spear still in the body, for he feared that if he +stayed to draw it out, some one of the Achaeans might come up and hack +at him with his sword, or knock him down, so he set off at a run, and +immediately was at his father’s side. Then he said: + +“Father, let me bring you a shield, two spears, and a brass helmet for +your temples. I will arm myself as well, and will bring other armour +for the swineherd and the stockman, for we had better be armed.” + +“Run and fetch them,” answered Ulysses, “while my arrows hold out, or +when I am alone they may get me away from the door.” + +Telemachus did as his father said, and went off to the store room where +the armour was kept. He chose four shields, eight spears, and four +brass helmets with horse-hair plumes. He brought them with all speed to +his father, and armed himself first, while the stockman and the +swineherd also put on their armour, and took their places near Ulysses. +Meanwhile Ulysses, as long as his arrows lasted, had been shooting the +suitors one by one, and they fell thick on one another: when his arrows +gave out, he set the bow to stand against the end wall of the house by +the door post, and hung a shield four hides thick about his shoulders; +on his comely head he set his helmet, well wrought with a crest of +horse-hair that nodded menacingly above it,168 and he grasped two +redoubtable bronze-shod spears. + +Now there was a trap door169 on the wall, while at one end of the +pavement170 there was an exit leading to a narrow passage, and this +exit was closed by a well-made door. Ulysses told Philoetius to stand +by this door and guard it, for only one person could attack it at a +time. But Agelaus shouted out, “Cannot some one go up to the trap door +and tell the people what is going on? Help would come at once, and we +should soon make an end of this man and his shooting.” + +“This may not be, Agelaus,” answered Melanthius, “the mouth of the +narrow passage is dangerously near the entrance to the outer court. One +brave man could prevent any number from getting in. But I know what I +will do, I will bring you arms from the store-room, for I am sure it is +there that Ulysses and his son have put them.” + +On this the goatherd Melanthius went by back passages to the store-room +of Ulysses’ house. There he chose twelve shields, with as many helmets +and spears, and brought them back as fast as he could to give them to +the suitors. Ulysses’ heart began to fail him when he saw the +suitors171 putting on their armour and brandishing their spears. He saw +the greatness of the danger, and said to Telemachus, “Some one of the +women inside is helping the suitors against us, or it may be +Melanthius.” + +Telemachus answered, “The fault, father, is mine, and mine only; I left +the store room door open, and they have kept a sharper look out than I +have. Go, Eumaeus, put the door to, and see whether it is one of the +women who is doing this, or whether, as I suspect, it is Melanthius the +son of Dolius.” + +Thus did they converse. Meanwhile Melanthius was again going to the +store room to fetch more armour, but the swineherd saw him and said to +Ulysses who was beside him, “Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, it is that +scoundrel Melanthius, just as we suspected, who is going to the store +room. Say, shall I kill him, if I can get the better of him, or shall I +bring him here that you may take your own revenge for all the many +wrongs that he has done in your house?” + +Ulysses answered, “Telemachus and I will hold these suitors in check, +no matter what they do; go back both of you and bind Melanthius’ hands +and feet behind him. Throw him into the store room and make the door +fast behind you; then fasten a noose about his body, and string him +close up to the rafters from a high bearing-post,172 that he may linger +on in an agony.” + +Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said; they went to the +store room, which they entered before Melanthius saw them, for he was +busy searching for arms in the innermost part of the room, so the two +took their stand on either side of the door and waited. By and by +Melanthius came out with a helmet in one hand, and an old dry-rotted +shield in the other, which had been borne by Laertes when he was young, +but which had been long since thrown aside, and the straps had become +unsewn; on this the two seized him, dragged him back by the hair, and +threw him struggling to the ground. They bent his hands and feet well +behind his back, and bound them tight with a painful bond as Ulysses +had told them; then they fastened a noose about his body and strung him +up from a high pillar till he was close up to the rafters, and over him +did you then vaunt, O swineherd Eumaeus saying, “Melanthius, you will +pass the night on a soft bed as you deserve. You will know very well +when morning comes from the streams of Oceanus, and it is time for you +to be driving in your goats for the suitors to feast on.” + +There, then, they left him in very cruel bondage, and having put on +their armour they closed the door behind them and went back to take +their places by the side of Ulysses; whereon the four men stood in the +cloister, fierce and full of fury; nevertheless, those who were in the +body of the court were still both brave and many. Then Jove’s daughter +Minerva came up to them, having assumed the voice and form of Mentor. +Ulysses was glad when he saw her and said, “Mentor, lend me your help, +and forget not your old comrade, nor the many good turns he has done +you. Besides, you are my age-mate.” + +But all the time he felt sure it was Minerva, and the suitors from the +other side raised an uproar when they saw her. Agelaus was the first to +reproach her. “Mentor,” he cried, “do not let Ulysses beguile you into +siding with him and fighting the suitors. This is what we will do: when +we have killed these people, father and son, we will kill you too. You +shall pay for it with your head, and when we have killed you, we will +take all you have, in doors or out, and bring it into hotch-pot with +Ulysses’ property; we will not let your sons live in your house, nor +your daughters, nor shall your widow continue to live in the city of +Ithaca.” + +This made Minerva still more furious, so she scolded Ulysses very +angrily.173 “Ulysses,” said she, “your strength and prowess are no +longer what they were when you fought for nine long years among the +Trojans about the noble lady Helen. You killed many a man in those +days, and it was through your stratagem that Priam’s city was taken. +How comes it that you are so lamentably less valiant now that you are +on your own ground, face to face with the suitors in your own house? +Come on, my good fellow, stand by my side and see how Mentor, son of +Alcimus shall fight your foes and requite your kindnesses conferred +upon him.” + +But she would not give him full victory as yet, for she wished still +further to prove his own prowess and that of his brave son, so she flew +up to one of the rafters in the roof of the cloister and sat upon it in +the form of a swallow. + +Meanwhile Agelaus son of Damastor, Eurynomus, Amphimedon, Demoptolemus, +Pisander, and Polybus son of Polyctor bore the brunt of the fight upon +the suitors’ side; of all those who were still fighting for their lives +they were by far the most valiant, for the others had already fallen +under the arrows of Ulysses. Agelaus shouted to them and said, “My +friends, he will soon have to leave off, for Mentor has gone away after +having done nothing for him but brag. They are standing at the doors +unsupported. Do not aim at him all at once, but six of you throw your +spears first, and see if you cannot cover yourselves with glory by +killing him. When he has fallen we need not be uneasy about the +others.” + +They threw their spears as he bade them, but Minerva made them all of +no effect. One hit the door post; another went against the door; the +pointed shaft of another struck the wall; and as soon as they had +avoided all the spears of the suitors Ulysses said to his own men, “My +friends, I should say we too had better let drive into the middle of +them, or they will crown all the harm they have done us by killing us +outright.” + +They therefore aimed straight in front of them and threw their spears. +Ulysses killed Demoptolemus, Telemachus Euryades, Eumaeus Elatus, while +the stockman killed Pisander. These all bit the dust, and as the others +drew back into a corner Ulysses and his men rushed forward and regained +their spears by drawing them from the bodies of the dead. + +The suitors now aimed a second time, but again Minerva made their +weapons for the most part without effect. One hit a bearing-post of the +cloister; another went against the door; while the pointed shaft of +another struck the wall. Still, Amphimedon just took a piece of the top +skin from off Telemachus’s wrist, and Ctesippus managed to graze +Eumaeus’s shoulder above his shield; but the spear went on and fell to +the ground. Then Ulysses and his men let drive into the crowd of +suitors. Ulysses hit Eurydamas, Telemachus Amphimedon, and Eumaeus +Polybus. After this the stockman hit Ctesippus in the breast, and +taunted him saying, “Foul-mouthed son of Polytherses, do not be so +foolish as to talk wickedly another time, but let heaven direct your +speech, for the gods are far stronger than men. I make you a present of +this advice to repay you for the foot which you gave Ulysses when he +was begging about in his own house.” + +Thus spoke the stockman, and Ulysses struck the son of Damastor with a +spear in close fight, while Telemachus hit Leocritus son of Evenor in +the belly, and the dart went clean through him, so that he fell forward +full on his face upon the ground. Then Minerva from her seat on the +rafter held up her deadly aegis, and the hearts of the suitors quailed. +They fled to the other end of the court like a herd of cattle maddened +by the gadfly in early summer when the days are at their longest. As +eagle-beaked, crook-taloned vultures from the mountains swoop down on +the smaller birds that cower in flocks upon the ground, and kill them, +for they cannot either fight or fly, and lookers on enjoy the +sport—even so did Ulysses and his men fall upon the suitors and smite +them on every side. They made a horrible groaning as their brains were +being battered in, and the ground seethed with their blood. + +Leiodes then caught the knees of Ulysses and said, “Ulysses I beseech +you have mercy upon me and spare me. I never wronged any of the women +in your house either in word or deed, and I tried to stop the others. I +saw them, but they would not listen, and now they are paying for their +folly. I was their sacrificing priest; if you kill me, I shall die +without having done anything to deserve it, and shall have got no +thanks for all the good that I did.” + +Ulysses looked sternly at him and answered, “If you were their +sacrificing priest, you must have prayed many a time that it might be +long before I got home again, and that you might marry my wife and have +children by her. Therefore you shall die.” + +With these words he picked up the sword that Agelaus had dropped when +he was being killed, and which was lying upon the ground. Then he +struck Leiodes on the back of his neck, so that his head fell rolling +in the dust while he was yet speaking. + +The minstrel Phemius son of Terpes—he who had been forced by the +suitors to sing to them—now tried to save his life. He was standing +near towards the trap door,174 and held his lyre in his hand. He did +not know whether to fly out of the cloister and sit down by the altar +of Jove that was in the outer court, and on which both Laertes and +Ulysses had offered up the thigh bones of many an ox, or whether to go +straight up to Ulysses and embrace his knees, but in the end he deemed +it best to embrace Ulysses’ knees. So he laid his lyre on the ground +between the mixing bowl 175 and the silver-studded seat; then going up +to Ulysses he caught hold of his knees and said, “Ulysses, I beseech +you have mercy on me and spare me. You will be sorry for it afterwards +if you kill a bard who can sing both for gods and men as I can. I make +all my lays myself, and heaven visits me with every kind of +inspiration. I would sing to you as though you were a god, do not +therefore be in such a hurry to cut my head off. Your own son +Telemachus will tell you that I did not want to frequent your house and +sing to the suitors after their meals, but they were too many and too +strong for me, so they made me.” + +Telemachus heard him, and at once went up to his father. “Hold!” he +cried, “the man is guiltless, do him no hurt; and we will spare Medon +too, who was always good to me when I was a boy, unless Philoetius or +Eumaeus has already killed him, or he has fallen in your way when you +were raging about the court.” + +Medon caught these words of Telemachus, for he was crouching under a +seat beneath which he had hidden by covering himself up with a freshly +flayed heifer’s hide, so he threw off the hide, went up to Telemachus, +and laid hold of his knees. + +“Here I am, my dear sir,” said he, “stay your hand therefore, and tell +your father, or he will kill me in his rage against the suitors for +having wasted his substance and been so foolishly disrespectful to +yourself.” + +Ulysses smiled at him and answered, “Fear not; Telemachus has saved +your life, that you may know in future, and tell other people, how +greatly better good deeds prosper than evil ones. Go, therefore, +outside the cloisters into the outer court, and be out of the way of +the slaughter—you and the bard—while I finish my work here inside.” + +The pair went into the outer court as fast as they could, and sat down +by Jove’s great altar, looking fearfully round, and still expecting +that they would be killed. Then Ulysses searched the whole court +carefully over, to see if anyone had managed to hide himself and was +still living, but he found them all lying in the dust and weltering in +their blood. They were like fishes which fishermen have netted out of +the sea, and thrown upon the beach to lie gasping for water till the +heat of the sun makes an end of them. Even so were the suitors lying +all huddled up one against the other. + +Then Ulysses said to Telemachus, “Call nurse Euryclea; I have something +to say to her.” + +Telemachus went and knocked at the door of the women’s room. “Make +haste,” said he, “you old woman who have been set over all the other +women in the house. Come outside; my father wishes to speak to you.” + +When Euryclea heard this she unfastened the door of the women’s room +and came out, following Telemachus. She found Ulysses among the corpses +bespattered with blood and filth like a lion that has just been +devouring an ox, and his breast and both his cheeks are all bloody, so +that he is a fearful sight; even so was Ulysses besmirched from head to +foot with gore. When she saw all the corpses and such a quantity of +blood, she was beginning to cry out for joy, for she saw that a great +deed had been done; but Ulysses checked her, “Old woman,” said he, +“rejoice in silence; restrain yourself, and do not make any noise about +it; it is an unholy thing to vaunt over dead men. Heaven’s doom and +their own evil deeds have brought these men to destruction, for they +respected no man in the whole world, neither rich nor poor, who came +near them, and they have come to a bad end as a punishment for their +wickedness and folly. Now, however, tell me which of the women in the +house have misconducted themselves, and who are innocent.”176 + +“I will tell you the truth, my son,” answered Euryclea. “There are +fifty women in the house whom we teach to do things, such as carding +wool, and all kinds of household work. Of these, twelve in all177 have +misbehaved, and have been wanting in respect to me, and also to +Penelope. They showed no disrespect to Telemachus, for he has only +lately grown and his mother never permitted him to give orders to the +female servants; but let me go upstairs and tell your wife all that has +happened, for some god has been sending her to sleep.” + +“Do not wake her yet,” answered Ulysses, “but tell the women who have +misconducted themselves to come to me.” + +Euryclea left the cloister to tell the women, and make them come to +Ulysses; in the meantime he called Telemachus, the stockman, and the +swineherd. “Begin,” said he, “to remove the dead, and make the women +help you. Then, get sponges and clean water to swill down the tables +and seats. When you have thoroughly cleansed the whole cloisters, take +the women into the space between the domed room and the wall of the +outer court, and run them through with your swords till they are quite +dead, and have forgotten all about love and the way in which they used +to lie in secret with the suitors.” + +On this the women came down in a body, weeping and wailing bitterly. +First they carried the dead bodies out, and propped them up against one +another in the gatehouse. Ulysses ordered them about and made them do +their work quickly, so they had to carry the bodies out. When they had +done this, they cleaned all the tables and seats with sponges and +water, while Telemachus and the two others shovelled up the blood and +dirt from the ground, and the women carried it all away and put it out +of doors. Then when they had made the whole place quite clean and +orderly, they took the women out and hemmed them in the narrow space +between the wall of the domed room and that of the yard, so that they +could not get away: and Telemachus said to the other two, “I shall not +let these women die a clean death, for they were insolent to me and my +mother, and used to sleep with the suitors.” + +So saying he made a ship’s cable fast to one of the bearing-posts that +supported the roof of the domed room, and secured it all around the +building, at a good height, lest any of the women’s feet should touch +the ground; and as thrushes or doves beat against a net that has been +set for them in a thicket just as they were getting to their nest, and +a terrible fate awaits them, even so did the women have to put their +heads in nooses one after the other and die most miserably.178 Their +feet moved convulsively for a while, but not for very long. + +As for Melanthius, they took him through the cloister into the inner +court. There they cut off his nose and his ears; they drew out his +vitals and gave them to the dogs raw, and then in their fury they cut +off his hands and his feet. + +When they had done this they washed their hands and feet and went back +into the house, for all was now over; and Ulysses said to the dear old +nurse Euryclea, “Bring me sulphur, which cleanses all pollution, and +fetch fire also that I may burn it, and purify the cloisters. Go, +moreover, and tell Penelope to come here with her attendants, and also +all the maidservants that are in the house.” + +“All that you have said is true,” answered Euryclea, “but let me bring +you some clean clothes—a shirt and cloak. Do not keep these rags on +your back any longer. It is not right.” + +“First light me a fire,” replied Ulysses. + +She brought the fire and sulphur, as he had bidden her, and Ulysses +thoroughly purified the cloisters and both the inner and outer courts. +Then she went inside to call the women and tell them what had happened; +whereon they came from their apartment with torches in their hands, and +pressed round Ulysses to embrace him, kissing his head and shoulders +and taking hold of his hands. It made him feel as if he should like to +weep, for he remembered every one of them.179 + + + + +BOOK XXIII + + +PENELOPE EVENTUALLY RECOGNISES HER HUSBAND—EARLY IN THE MORNING +ULYSSES, TELEMACHUS, EUMAEUS, AND PHILOETIUS LEAVE THE TOWN. + + +Euryclea now went upstairs laughing to tell her mistress that her dear +husband had come home. Her aged knees became young again and her feet +were nimble for joy as she went up to her mistress and bent over her +head to speak to her. “Wake up Penelope, my dear child,” she exclaimed, +“and see with your own eyes something that you have been wanting this +long time past. Ulysses has at last indeed come home again, and has +killed the suitors who were giving so much trouble in his house, eating +up his estate and ill treating his son.” + +“My good nurse,” answered Penelope, “you must be mad. The gods +sometimes send some very sensible people out of their minds, and make +foolish people become sensible. This is what they must have been doing +to you; for you always used to be a reasonable person. Why should you +thus mock me when I have trouble enough already—talking such nonsense, +and waking me up out of a sweet sleep that had taken possession of my +eyes and closed them? I have never slept so soundly from the day my +poor husband went to that city with the ill-omened name. Go back again +into the women’s room; if it had been any one else who had woke me up +to bring me such absurd news I should have sent her away with a severe +scolding. As it is your age shall protect you.” + +“My dear child,” answered Euryclea, “I am not mocking you. It is quite +true as I tell you that Ulysses is come home again. He was the stranger +whom they all kept on treating so badly in the cloister. Telemachus +knew all the time that he was come back, but kept his father’s secret +that he might have his revenge on all these wicked people.” + +Then Penelope sprang up from her couch, threw her arms round Euryclea, +and wept for joy. “But my dear nurse,” said she, “explain this to me; +if he has really come home as you say, how did he manage to overcome +the wicked suitors single handed, seeing what a number of them there +always were?” + +“I was not there,” answered Euryclea, “and do not know; I only heard +them groaning while they were being killed. We sat crouching and +huddled up in a corner of the women’s room with the doors closed, till +your son came to fetch me because his father sent him. Then I found +Ulysses standing over the corpses that were lying on the ground all +round him, one on top of the other. You would have enjoyed it if you +could have seen him standing there all bespattered with blood and +filth, and looking just like a lion. But the corpses are now all piled +up in the gatehouse that is in the outer court, and Ulysses has lit a +great fire to purify the house with sulphur. He has sent me to call +you, so come with me that you may both be happy together after all; for +now at last the desire of your heart has been fulfilled; your husband +is come home to find both wife and son alive and well, and to take his +revenge in his own house on the suitors who behaved so badly to him.” + +“My dear nurse,” said Penelope, “do not exult too confidently over all +this. You know how delighted every one would be to see Ulysses come +home—more particularly myself, and the son who has been born to both of +us; but what you tell me cannot be really true. It is some god who is +angry with the suitors for their great wickedness, and has made an end +of them; for they respected no man in the whole world, neither rich nor +poor, who came near them, and they have come to a bad end in +consequence of their iniquity; Ulysses is dead far away from the +Achaean land; he will never return home again.” + +Then nurse Euryclea said, “My child, what are you talking about? but +you were all hard of belief and have made up your mind that your +husband is never coming, although he is in the house and by his own +fire side at this very moment. Besides I can give you another proof; +when I was washing him I perceived the scar which the wild boar gave +him, and I wanted to tell you about it, but in his wisdom he would not +let me, and clapped his hands over my mouth; so come with me and I will +make this bargain with you—if I am deceiving you, you may have me +killed by the most cruel death you can think of.” + +“My dear nurse,” said Penelope, “however wise you may be you can hardly +fathom the counsels of the gods. Nevertheless, we will go in search of +my son, that I may see the corpses of the suitors, and the man who has +killed them.” + +On this she came down from her upper room, and while doing so she +considered whether she should keep at a distance from her husband and +question him, or whether she should at once go up to him and embrace +him. When, however, she had crossed the stone floor of the cloister, +she sat down opposite Ulysses by the fire, against the wall at right +angles180 [to that by which she had entered], while Ulysses sat near +one of the bearing-posts, looking upon the ground, and waiting to see +what his brave wife would say to him when she saw him. For a long time +she sat silent and as one lost in amazement. At one moment she looked +him full in the face, but then again directly, she was misled by his +shabby clothes and failed to recognise him,181 till Telemachus began to +reproach her and said: + +“Mother—but you are so hard that I cannot call you by such a name—why +do you keep away from my father in this way? Why do you not sit by his +side and begin talking to him and asking him questions? No other woman +could bear to keep away from her husband when he had come back to her +after twenty years of absence, and after having gone through so much; +but your heart always was as hard as a stone.” + +Penelope answered, “My son, I am so lost in astonishment that I can +find no words in which either to ask questions or to answer them. I +cannot even look him straight in the face. Still, if he really is +Ulysses come back to his own home again, we shall get to understand one +another better by and by, for there are tokens with which we two are +alone acquainted, and which are hidden from all others.” + +Ulysses smiled at this, and said to Telemachus, “Let your mother put me +to any proof she likes; she will make up her mind about it presently. +She rejects me for the moment and believes me to be somebody else, +because I am covered with dirt and have such bad clothes on; let us, +however, consider what we had better do next. When one man has killed +another—even though he was not one who would leave many friends to take +up his quarrel—the man who has killed him must still say good bye to +his friends and fly the country; whereas we have been killing the stay +of a whole town, and all the picked youth of Ithaca. I would have you +consider this matter.” + +“Look to it yourself, father,” answered Telemachus, “for they say you +are the wisest counsellor in the world, and that there is no other +mortal man who can compare with you. We will follow you with right good +will, nor shall you find us fail you in so far as our strength holds +out.” + +“I will say what I think will be best,” answered Ulysses. “First wash +and put your shirts on; tell the maids also to go to their own room and +dress; Phemius shall then strike up a dance tune on his lyre, so that +if people outside hear, or any of the neighbours, or some one going +along the street happens to notice it, they may think there is a +wedding in the house, and no rumours about the death of the suitors +will get about in the town, before we can escape to the woods upon my +own land. Once there, we will settle which of the courses heaven +vouchsafes us shall seem wisest.” + +Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said. First they washed +and put their shirts on, while the women got ready. Then Phemius took +his lyre and set them all longing for sweet song and stately dance. The +house re-echoed with the sound of men and women dancing, and the people +outside said, “I suppose the queen has been getting married at last. +She ought to be ashamed of herself for not continuing to protect her +husband’s property until he comes home.”182 + +This was what they said, but they did not know what it was that had +been happening. The upper servant Eurynome washed and anointed Ulysses +in his own house and gave him a shirt and cloak, while Minerva made him +look taller and stronger than before; she also made the hair grow thick +on the top of his head, and flow down in curls like hyacinth blossoms; +she glorified him about the head and shoulders just as a skilful +workman who has studied art of all kinds under Vulcan or Minerva—and +his work is full of beauty—enriches a piece of silver plate by gilding +it. He came from the bath looking like one of the immortals, and sat +down opposite his wife on the seat he had left. “My dear,” said he, +“heaven has endowed you with a heart more unyielding than woman ever +yet had. No other woman could bear to keep away from her husband when +he had come back to her after twenty years of absence, and after having +gone through so much. But come, nurse, get a bed ready for me; I will +sleep alone, for this woman has a heart as hard as iron.” + +“My dear,” answered Penelope, “I have no wish to set myself up, nor to +depreciate you; but I am not struck by your appearance, for I very well +remember what kind of a man you were when you set sail from Ithaca. +Nevertheless, Euryclea, take his bed outside the bed chamber that he +himself built. Bring the bed outside this room, and put bedding upon it +with fleeces, good coverlets, and blankets.” + +She said this to try him, but Ulysses was very angry and said, “Wife, I +am much displeased at what you have just been saying. Who has been +taking my bed from the place in which I left it? He must have found it +a hard task, no matter how skilled a workman he was, unless some god +came and helped him to shift it. There is no man living, however strong +and in his prime, who could move it from its place, for it is a +marvellous curiosity which I made with my very own hands. There was a +young olive growing within the precincts of the house, in full vigour, +and about as thick as a bearing-post. I built my room round this with +strong walls of stone and a roof to cover them, and I made the doors +strong and well-fitting. Then I cut off the top boughs of the olive +tree and left the stump standing. This I dressed roughly from the root +upwards and then worked with carpenter’s tools well and skilfully, +straightening my work by drawing a line on the wood, and making it into +a bed-prop. I then bored a hole down the middle, and made it the +centre-post of my bed, at which I worked till I had finished it, +inlaying it with gold and silver; after this I stretched a hide of +crimson leather from one side of it to the other. So you see I know all +about it, and I desire to learn whether it is still there, or whether +any one has been removing it by cutting down the olive tree at its +roots.” + +When she heard the sure proofs Ulysses now gave her, she fairly broke +down. She flew weeping to his side, flung her arms about his neck, and +kissed him. “Do not be angry with me Ulysses,” she cried, “you, who are +the wisest of mankind. We have suffered, both of us. Heaven has denied +us the happiness of spending our youth, and of growing old, together; +do not then be aggrieved or take it amiss that I did not embrace you +thus as soon as I saw you. I have been shuddering all the time through +fear that someone might come here and deceive me with a lying story; +for there are many very wicked people going about. Jove’s daughter +Helen would never have yielded herself to a man from a foreign country, +if she had known that the sons of Achaeans would come after her and +bring her back. Heaven put it in her heart to do wrong, and she gave no +thought to that sin, which has been the source of all our sorrows. Now, +however, that you have convinced me by showing that you know all about +our bed (which no human being has ever seen but you and I and a single +maidservant, the daughter of Actor, who was given me by my father on my +marriage, and who keeps the doors of our room) hard of belief though I +have been I can mistrust no longer.” + +Then Ulysses in his turn melted, and wept as he clasped his dear and +faithful wife to his bosom. As the sight of land is welcome to men who +are swimming towards the shore, when Neptune has wrecked their ship +with the fury of his winds and waves; a few alone reach the land, and +these, covered with brine, are thankful when they find themselves on +firm ground and out of danger—even so was her husband welcome to her as +she looked upon him, and she could not tear her two fair arms from +about his neck. Indeed they would have gone on indulging their sorrow +till rosy-fingered morn appeared, had not Minerva determined otherwise, +and held night back in the far west, while she would not suffer Dawn to +leave Oceanus, nor to yoke the two steeds Lampus and Phaethon that bear +her onward to break the day upon mankind. + +At last, however, Ulysses said, “Wife, we have not yet reached the end +of our troubles. I have an unknown amount of toil still to undergo. It +is long and difficult, but I must go through with it, for thus the +shade of Teiresias prophesied concerning me, on the day when I went +down into Hades to ask about my return and that of my companions. But +now let us go to bed, that we may lie down and enjoy the blessed boon +of sleep.” + +“You shall go to bed as soon as you please,” replied Penelope, “now +that the gods have sent you home to your own good house and to your +country. But as heaven has put it in your mind to speak of it, tell me +about the task that lies before you. I shall have to hear about it +later, so it is better that I should be told at once.” + +“My dear,” answered Ulysses, “why should you press me to tell you? +Still, I will not conceal it from you, though you will not like it. I +do not like it myself, for Teiresias bade me travel far and wide, +carrying an oar, till I came to a country where the people have never +heard of the sea, and do not even mix salt with their food. They know +nothing about ships, nor oars that are as the wings of a ship. He gave +me this certain token which I will not hide from you. He said that a +wayfarer should meet me and ask me whether it was a winnowing shovel +that I had on my shoulder. On this, I was to fix my oar in the ground +and sacrifice a ram, a bull, and a boar to Neptune; after which I was +to go home and offer hecatombs to all the gods in heaven, one after the +other. As for myself, he said that death should come to me from the +sea, and that my life should ebb away very gently when I was full of +years and peace of mind, and my people should bless me. All this, he +said, should surely come to pass.” + +And Penelope said, “If the gods are going to vouchsafe you a happier +time in your old age, you may hope then to have some respite from +misfortune.” + +Thus did they converse. Meanwhile Eurynome and the nurse took torches +and made the bed ready with soft coverlets; as soon as they had laid +them, the nurse went back into the house to go to her rest, leaving the +bed chamber woman Eurynome183 to show Ulysses and Penelope to bed by +torch light. When she had conducted them to their room she went back, +and they then came joyfully to the rites of their own old bed. +Telemachus, Philoetius, and the swineherd now left off dancing, and +made the women leave off also. They then laid themselves down to sleep +in the cloisters. + +When Ulysses and Penelope had had their fill of love they fell talking +with one another. She told him how much she had had to bear in seeing +the house filled with a crowd of wicked suitors who had killed so many +sheep and oxen on her account, and had drunk so many casks of wine. +Ulysses in his turn told her what he had suffered, and how much trouble +he had himself given to other people. He told her everything, and she +was so delighted to listen that she never went to sleep till he had +ended his whole story. + +He began with his victory over the Cicons, and how he thence reached +the fertile land of the Lotus-eaters. He told her all about the Cyclops +and how he had punished him for having so ruthlessly eaten his brave +comrades; how he then went on to Aeolus, who received him hospitably +and furthered him on his way, but even so he was not to reach home, for +to his great grief a hurricane carried him out to sea again; how he +went on to the Laestrygonian city Telepylos, where the people destroyed +all his ships with their crews, save himself and his own ship only. +Then he told of cunning Circe and her craft, and how he sailed to the +chill house of Hades, to consult the ghost of the Theban prophet +Teiresias, and how he saw his old comrades in arms, and his mother who +bore him and brought him up when he was a child; how he then heard the +wondrous singing of the Sirens, and went on to the wandering rocks and +terrible Charybdis and to Scylla, whom no man had ever yet passed in +safety; how his men then ate the cattle of the sun-god, and how Jove +therefore struck the ship with his thunderbolts, so that all his men +perished together, himself alone being left alive; how at last he +reached the Ogygian island and the nymph Calypso, who kept him there in +a cave, and fed him, and wanted him to marry her, in which case she +intended making him immortal so that he should never grow old, but she +could not persuade him to let her do so; and how after much suffering +he had found his way to the Phaeacians, who had treated him as though +he had been a god, and sent him back in a ship to his own country after +having given him gold, bronze, and raiment in great abundance. This was +the last thing about which he told her, for here a deep sleep took hold +upon him and eased the burden of his sorrows. + +Then Minerva bethought her of another matter. When she deemed that +Ulysses had had both of his wife and of repose, she bade gold-enthroned +Dawn rise out of Oceanus that she might shed light upon mankind. On +this, Ulysses rose from his comfortable bed and said to Penelope, +“Wife, we have both of us had our full share of troubles, you, here, in +lamenting my absence, and I in being prevented from getting home though +I was longing all the time to do so. Now, however, that we have at last +come together, take care of the property that is in the house. As for +the sheep and goats which the wicked suitors have eaten, I will take +many myself by force from other people, and will compel the Achaeans to +make good the rest till they shall have filled all my yards. I am now +going to the wooded lands out in the country to see my father who has +so long been grieved on my account, and to yourself I will give these +instructions, though you have little need of them. At sunrise it will +at once get abroad that I have been killing the suitors; go upstairs, +therefore,184 and stay there with your women. See nobody and ask no +questions.”185 + +As he spoke he girded on his armour. Then he roused Telemachus, +Philoetius, and Eumaeus, and told them all to put on their armour also. +This they did, and armed themselves. When they had done so, they opened +the gates and sallied forth, Ulysses leading the way. It was now +daylight, but Minerva nevertheless concealed them in darkness and led +them quickly out of the town. + + + + +BOOK XXIV + + +THE GHOSTS OF THE SUITORS IN HADES—ULYSSES AND HIS MEN GO TO THE HOUSE +OF LAERTES—THE PEOPLE OF ITHACA COME OUT TO ATTACK ULYSSES, BUT MINERVA +CONCLUDES A PEACE. + + +Then Mercury of Cyllene summoned the ghosts of the suitors, and in his +hand he held the fair golden wand with which he seals men’s eyes in +sleep or wakes them just as he pleases; with this he roused the ghosts +and led them, while they followed whining and gibbering behind him. As +bats fly squealing in the hollow of some great cave, when one of them +has fallen out of the cluster in which they hang, even so did the +ghosts whine and squeal as Mercury the healer of sorrow led them down +into the dark abode of death. When they had passed the waters of +Oceanus and the rock Leucas, they came to the gates of the sun and the +land of dreams, whereon they reached the meadow of asphodel where dwell +the souls and shadows of them that can labour no more. + +Here they found the ghost of Achilles son of Peleus, with those of +Patroclus, Antilochus, and Ajax, who was the finest and handsomest man +of all the Danaans after the son of Peleus himself. + +They gathered round the ghost of the son of Peleus, and the ghost of +Agamemnon joined them, sorrowing bitterly. Round him were gathered also +the ghosts of those who had perished with him in the house of +Aegisthus; and the ghost of Achilles spoke first. + +“Son of Atreus,” it said, “we used to say that Jove had loved you +better from first to last than any other hero, for you were captain +over many and brave men, when we were all fighting together before +Troy; yet the hand of death, which no mortal can escape, was laid upon +you all too early. Better for you had you fallen at Troy in the hey-day +of your renown, for the Achaeans would have built a mound over your +ashes, and your son would have been heir to your good name, whereas it +has now been your lot to come to a most miserable end.” + +“Happy son of Peleus,” answered the ghost of Agamemnon, “for having +died at Troy far from Argos, while the bravest of the Trojans and the +Achaeans fell round you fighting for your body. There you lay in the +whirling clouds of dust, all huge and hugely, heedless now of your +chivalry. We fought the whole of the livelong day, nor should we ever +have left off if Jove had not sent a hurricane to stay us. Then, when +we had borne you to the ships out of the fray, we laid you on your bed +and cleansed your fair skin with warm water and with ointments. The +Danaans tore their hair and wept bitterly round about you. Your mother, +when she heard, came with her immortal nymphs from out of the sea, and +the sound of a great wailing went forth over the waters so that the +Achaeans quaked for fear. They would have fled panic-stricken to their +ships had not wise old Nestor whose counsel was ever truest checked +them saying, ‘Hold, Argives, fly not sons of the Achaeans, this is his +mother coming from the sea with her immortal nymphs to view the body of +her son.’ + +“Thus he spoke, and the Achaeans feared no more. The daughters of the +old man of the sea stood round you weeping bitterly, and clothed you in +immortal raiment. The nine muses also came and lifted up their sweet +voices in lament—calling and answering one another; there was not an +Argive but wept for pity of the dirge they chaunted. Days and nights +seven and ten we mourned you, mortals and immortals, but on the +eighteenth day we gave you to the flames, and many a fat sheep with +many an ox did we slay in sacrifice around you. You were burnt in +raiment of the gods, with rich resins and with honey, while heroes, +horse and foot, clashed their armour round the pile as you were +burning, with the tramp as of a great multitude. But when the flames of +heaven had done their work, we gathered your white bones at daybreak +and laid them in ointments and in pure wine. Your mother brought us a +golden vase to hold them—gift of Bacchus, and work of Vulcan himself; +in this we mingled your bleached bones with those of Patroclus who had +gone before you, and separate we enclosed also those of Antilochus, who +had been closer to you than any other of your comrades now that +Patroclus was no more. + +“Over these the host of the Argives built a noble tomb, on a point +jutting out over the open Hellespont, that it might be seen from far +out upon the sea by those now living and by them that shall be born +hereafter. Your mother begged prizes from the gods, and offered them to +be contended for by the noblest of the Achaeans. You must have been +present at the funeral of many a hero, when the young men gird +themselves and make ready to contend for prizes on the death of some +great chieftain, but you never saw such prizes as silver-footed Thetis +offered in your honour; for the gods loved you well. Thus even in death +your fame, Achilles, has not been lost, and your name lives evermore +among all mankind. But as for me, what solace had I when the days of my +fighting were done? For Jove willed my destruction on my return, by the +hands of Aegisthus and those of my wicked wife.” + +Thus did they converse, and presently Mercury came up to them with the +ghosts of the suitors who had been killed by Ulysses. The ghosts of +Agamemnon and Achilles were astonished at seeing them, and went up to +them at once. The ghost of Agamemnon recognised Amphimedon son of +Melaneus, who lived in Ithaca and had been his host, so it began to +talk to him. + +“Amphimedon,” it said, “what has happened to all you fine young men—all +of an age too—that you are come down here under the ground? One could +pick no finer body of men from any city. Did Neptune raise his winds +and waves against you when you were at sea, or did your enemies make an +end of you on the mainland when you were cattle-lifting or +sheep-stealing, or while fighting in defence of their wives and city? +Answer my question, for I have been your guest. Do you not remember how +I came to your house with Menelaus, to persuade Ulysses to join us with +his ships against Troy? It was a whole month ere we could resume our +voyage, for we had hard work to persuade Ulysses to come with us.” + +And the ghost of Amphimedon answered, “Agamemnon, son of Atreus, king +of men, I remember everything that you have said, and will tell you +fully and accurately about the way in which our end was brought about. +Ulysses had been long gone, and we were courting his wife, who did not +say point blank that she would not marry, nor yet bring matters to an +end, for she meant to compass our destruction: this, then, was the +trick she played us. She set up a great tambour frame in her room and +began to work on an enormous piece of fine needlework. ‘Sweethearts,’ +said she, ‘Ulysses is indeed dead, still, do not press me to marry +again immediately; wait—for I would not have my skill in needlework +perish unrecorded—till I have completed a pall for the hero Laertes, +against the time when death shall take him. He is very rich, and the +women of the place will talk if he is laid out without a pall.’ This is +what she said, and we assented; whereupon we could see her working upon +her great web all day long, but at night she would unpick the stitches +again by torchlight. She fooled us in this way for three years without +our finding it out, but as time wore on and she was now in her fourth +year, in the waning of moons and many days had been accomplished, one +of her maids who knew what she was doing told us, and we caught her in +the act of undoing her work, so she had to finish it whether she would +or no; and when she showed us the robe she had made, after she had had +it washed,186 its splendour was as that of the sun or moon. + +“Then some malicious god conveyed Ulysses to the upland farm where his +swineherd lives. Thither presently came also his son, returning from a +voyage to Pylos, and the two came to the town when they had hatched +their plot for our destruction. Telemachus came first, and then after +him, accompanied by the swineherd, came Ulysses, clad in rags and +leaning on a staff as though he were some miserable old beggar. He came +so unexpectedly that none of us knew him, not even the older ones among +us, and we reviled him and threw things at him. He endured both being +struck and insulted without a word, though he was in his own house; but +when the will of Aegis-bearing Jove inspired him, he and Telemachus +took the armour and hid it in an inner chamber, bolting the doors +behind them. Then he cunningly made his wife offer his bow and a +quantity of iron to be contended for by us ill-fated suitors; and this +was the beginning of our end, for not one of us could string the +bow—nor nearly do so. When it was about to reach the hands of Ulysses, +we all of us shouted out that it should not be given him, no matter +what he might say, but Telemachus insisted on his having it. When he +had got it in his hands he strung it with ease and sent his arrow +through the iron. Then he stood on the floor of the cloister and poured +his arrows on the ground, glaring fiercely about him. First he killed +Antinous, and then, aiming straight before him, he let fly his deadly +darts and they fell thick on one another. It was plain that some one of +the gods was helping them, for they fell upon us with might and main +throughout the cloisters, and there was a hideous sound of groaning as +our brains were being battered in, and the ground seethed with our +blood. This, Agamemnon, is how we came by our end, and our bodies are +lying still uncared for in the house of Ulysses, for our friends at +home do not yet know what has happened, so that they cannot lay us out +and wash the black blood from our wounds, making moan over us according +to the offices due to the departed.” + +“Happy Ulysses, son of Laertes,” replied the ghost of Agamemnon, “you +are indeed blessed in the possession of a wife endowed with such rare +excellence of understanding, and so faithful to her wedded lord as +Penelope the daughter of Icarius. The fame, therefore, of her virtue +shall never die, and the immortals shall compose a song that shall be +welcome to all mankind in honour of the constancy of Penelope. How far +otherwise was the wickedness of the daughter of Tyndareus who killed +her lawful husband; her song shall be hateful among men, for she has +brought disgrace on all womankind even on the good ones.” + +Thus did they converse in the house of Hades deep down within the +bowels of the earth. Meanwhile Ulysses and the others passed out of the +town and soon reached the fair and well-tilled farm of Laertes, which +he had reclaimed with infinite labour. Here was his house, with a +lean-to running all round it, where the slaves who worked for him slept +and sat and ate, while inside the house there was an old Sicel woman, +who looked after him in this his country-farm. When Ulysses got there, +he said to his son and to the other two: + +“Go to the house, and kill the best pig that you can find for dinner. +Meanwhile I want to see whether my father will know me, or fail to +recognise me after so long an absence.” + +He then took off his armour and gave it to Eumaeus and Philoetius, who +went straight on to the house, while he turned off into the vineyard to +make trial of his father. As he went down into the great orchard, he +did not see Dolius, nor any of his sons nor of the other bondsmen, for +they were all gathering thorns to make a fence for the vineyard, at the +place where the old man had told them; he therefore found his father +alone, hoeing a vine. He had on a dirty old shirt, patched and very +shabby; his legs were bound round with thongs of oxhide to save him +from the brambles, and he also wore sleeves of leather; he had a goat +skin cap on his head, and was looking very woe-begone. When Ulysses saw +him so worn, so old and full of sorrow, he stood still under a tall +pear tree and began to weep. He doubted whether to embrace him, kiss +him, and tell him all about his having come home, or whether he should +first question him and see what he would say. In the end he deemed it +best to be crafty with him, so in this mind he went up to his father, +who was bending down and digging about a plant. + +“I see, sir,” said Ulysses, “that you are an excellent gardener—what +pains you take with it, to be sure. There is not a single plant, not a +fig tree, vine, olive, pear, nor flower bed, but bears the trace of +your attention. I trust, however, that you will not be offended if I +say that you take better care of your garden than of yourself. You are +old, unsavoury, and very meanly clad. It cannot be because you are idle +that your master takes such poor care of you, indeed your face and +figure have nothing of the slave about them, and proclaim you of noble +birth. I should have said that you were one of those who should wash +well, eat well, and lie soft at night as old men have a right to do; +but tell me, and tell me true, whose bondman are you, and in whose +garden are you working? Tell me also about another matter. Is this +place that I have come to really Ithaca? I met a man just now who said +so, but he was a dull fellow, and had not the patience to hear my story +out when I was asking him about an old friend of mine, whether he was +still living, or was already dead and in the house of Hades. Believe me +when I tell you that this man came to my house once when I was in my +own country and never yet did any stranger come to me whom I liked +better. He said that his family came from Ithaca and that his father +was Laertes, son of Arceisius. I received him hospitably, making him +welcome to all the abundance of my house, and when he went away I gave +him all customary presents. I gave him seven talents of fine gold, and +a cup of solid silver with flowers chased upon it. I gave him twelve +light cloaks, and as many pieces of tapestry; I also gave him twelve +cloaks of single fold, twelve rugs, twelve fair mantles, and an equal +number of shirts. To all this I added four good looking women skilled +in all useful arts, and I let him take his choice.” + +His father shed tears and answered, “Sir, you have indeed come to the +country that you have named, but it is fallen into the hands of wicked +people. All this wealth of presents has been given to no purpose. If +you could have found your friend here alive in Ithaca, he would have +entertained you hospitably and would have requited your presents amply +when you left him—as would have been only right considering what you +had already given him. But tell me, and tell me true, how many years is +it since you entertained this guest—my unhappy son, as ever was? Alas! +He has perished far from his own country; the fishes of the sea have +eaten him, or he has fallen a prey to the birds and wild beasts of some +continent. Neither his mother, nor I his father, who were his parents, +could throw our arms about him and wrap him in his shroud, nor could +his excellent and richly dowered wife Penelope bewail her husband as +was natural upon his death bed, and close his eyes according to the +offices due to the departed. But now, tell me truly for I want to know. +Who and whence are you—tell me of your town and parents? Where is the +ship lying that has brought you and your men to Ithaca? Or were you a +passenger on some other man’s ship, and those who brought you here have +gone on their way and left you?” + +“I will tell you everything,” answered Ulysses, “quite truly. I come +from Alybas, where I have a fine house. I am son of king Apheidas, who +is the son of Polypemon. My own name is Eperitus; heaven drove me off +my course as I was leaving Sicania, and I have been carried here +against my will. As for my ship it is lying over yonder, off the open +country outside the town, and this is the fifth year since Ulysses left +my country. Poor fellow, yet the omens were good for him when he left +me. The birds all flew on our right hands, and both he and I rejoiced +to see them as we parted, for we had every hope that we should have +another friendly meeting and exchange presents.” + +A dark cloud of sorrow fell upon Laertes as he listened. He filled both +hands with the dust from off the ground and poured it over his grey +head, groaning heavily as he did so. The heart of Ulysses was touched, +and his nostrils quivered as he looked upon his father; then he sprang +towards him, flung his arms about him and kissed him, saying, “I am he, +father, about whom you are asking—I have returned after having been +away for twenty years. But cease your sighing and lamentation—we have +no time to lose, for I should tell you that I have been killing the +suitors in my house, to punish them for their insolence and crimes.” + +“If you really are my son Ulysses,” replied Laertes, “and have come +back again, you must give me such manifest proof of your identity as +shall convince me.” + +“First observe this scar,” answered Ulysses, “which I got from a boar’s +tusk when I was hunting on Mt. Parnassus. You and my mother had sent me +to Autolycus, my mother’s father, to receive the presents which when he +was over here he had promised to give me. Furthermore I will point out +to you the trees in the vineyard which you gave me, and I asked you all +about them as I followed you round the garden. We went over them all, +and you told me their names and what they all were. You gave me +thirteen pear trees, ten apple trees, and forty fig trees; you also +said you would give me fifty rows of vines; there was corn planted +between each row, and they yield grapes of every kind when the heat of +heaven has been laid heavy upon them.” + +Laertes’ strength failed him when he heard the convincing proofs which +his son had given him. He threw his arms about him, and Ulysses had to +support him, or he would have gone off into a swoon; but as soon as he +came to, and was beginning to recover his senses, he said, “O father +Jove, then you gods are still in Olympus after all, if the suitors have +really been punished for their insolence and folly. Nevertheless, I am +much afraid that I shall have all the townspeople of Ithaca up here +directly, and they will be sending messengers everywhere throughout the +cities of the Cephallenians.” + +Ulysses answered, “Take heart and do not trouble yourself about that, +but let us go into the house hard by your garden. I have already told +Telemachus, Philoetius, and Eumaeus to go on there and get dinner ready +as soon as possible.” + +Thus conversing the two made their way towards the house. When they got +there they found Telemachus with the stockman and the swineherd cutting +up meat and mixing wine with water. Then the old Sicel woman took +Laertes inside and washed him and anointed him with oil. She put him on +a good cloak, and Minerva came up to him and gave him a more imposing +presence, making him taller and stouter than before. When he came back +his son was surprised to see him looking so like an immortal, and said +to him, “My dear father, some one of the gods has been making you much +taller and better-looking.” + +Laertes answered, “Would, by Father Jove, Minerva, and Apollo, that I +were the man I was when I ruled among the Cephallenians, and took +Nericum, that strong fortress on the foreland. If I were still what I +then was and had been in our house yesterday with my armour on, I +should have been able to stand by you and help you against the suitors. +I should have killed a great many of them, and you would have rejoiced +to see it.” + +Thus did they converse; but the others, when they had finished their +work and the feast was ready, left off working, and took each his +proper place on the benches and seats. Then they began eating; by and +by old Dolius and his sons left their work and came up, for their +mother, the Sicel woman who looked after Laertes now that he was +growing old, had been to fetch them. When they saw Ulysses and were +certain it was he, they stood there lost in astonishment; but Ulysses +scolded them good naturedly and said, “Sit down to your dinner, old +man, and never mind about your surprise; we have been wanting to begin +for some time and have been waiting for you.” + +Then Dolius put out both his hands and went up to Ulysses. “Sir,” said +he, seizing his master’s hand and kissing it at the wrist, “we have +long been wishing you home: and now heaven has restored you to us after +we had given up hoping. All hail, therefore, and may the gods prosper +you.187 But tell me, does Penelope already know of your return, or +shall we send some one to tell her?” + +“Old man,” answered Ulysses, “she knows already, so you need not +trouble about that.” On this he took his seat, and the sons of Dolius +gathered round Ulysses to give him greeting and embrace him one after +the other; then they took their seats in due order near Dolius their +father. + +While they were thus busy getting their dinner ready, Rumour went round +the town, and noised abroad the terrible fate that had befallen the +suitors; as soon, therefore, as the people heard of it they gathered +from every quarter, groaning and hooting before the house of Ulysses. +They took the dead away, buried every man his own, and put the bodies +of those who came from elsewhere on board the fishing vessels, for the +fishermen to take each of them to his own place. They then met angrily +in the place of assembly, and when they were got together Eupeithes +rose to speak. He was overwhelmed with grief for the death of his son +Antinous, who had been the first man killed by Ulysses, so he said, +weeping bitterly, “My friends, this man has done the Achaeans great +wrong. He took many of our best men away with him in his fleet, and he +has lost both ships and men; now, moreover, on his return he has been +killing all the foremost men among the Cephallenians. Let us be up and +doing before he can get away to Pylos or to Elis where the Epeans rule, +or we shall be ashamed of ourselves for ever afterwards. It will be an +everlasting disgrace to us if we do not avenge the murder of our sons +and brothers. For my own part I should have no more pleasure in life, +but had rather die at once. Let us be up, then, and after them, before +they can cross over to the main land.” + +He wept as he spoke and every one pitied him. But Medon and the bard +Phemius had now woke up, and came to them from the house of Ulysses. +Every one was astonished at seeing them, but they stood in the middle +of the assembly, and Medon said, “Hear me, men of Ithaca. Ulysses did +not do these things against the will of heaven. I myself saw an +immortal god take the form of Mentor and stand beside him. This god +appeared, now in front of him encouraging him, and now going furiously +about the court and attacking the suitors whereon they fell thick on +one another.” + +On this pale fear laid hold of them, and old Halitherses, son of +Mastor, rose to speak, for he was the only man among them who knew both +past and future; so he spoke to them plainly and in all honesty, +saying, + +“Men of Ithaca, it is all your own fault that things have turned out as +they have; you would not listen to me, nor yet to Mentor, when we bade +you check the folly of your sons who were doing much wrong in the +wantonness of their hearts—wasting the substance and dishonouring the +wife of a chieftain who they thought would not return. Now, however, +let it be as I say, and do as I tell you. Do not go out against +Ulysses, or you may find that you have been drawing down evil on your +own heads.” + +This was what he said, and more than half raised a loud shout, and at +once left the assembly. But the rest stayed where they were, for the +speech of Halitherses displeased them, and they sided with Eupeithes; +they therefore hurried off for their armour, and when they had armed +themselves, they met together in front of the city, and Eupeithes led +them on in their folly. He thought he was going to avenge the murder of +his son, whereas in truth he was never to return, but was himself to +perish in his attempt. + +Then Minerva said to Jove, “Father, son of Saturn, king of kings, +answer me this question—What do you propose to do? Will you set them +fighting still further, or will you make peace between them?” + +And Jove answered, “My child, why should you ask me? Was it not by your +own arrangement that Ulysses came home and took his revenge upon the +suitors? Do whatever you like, but I will tell you what I think will be +most reasonable arrangement. Now that Ulysses is revenged, let them +swear to a solemn covenant, in virtue of which he shall continue to +rule, while we cause the others to forgive and forget the massacre of +their sons and brothers. Let them then all become friends as +heretofore, and let peace and plenty reign.” + +This was what Minerva was already eager to bring about, so down she +darted from off the topmost summits of Olympus. + +Now when Laertes and the others had done dinner, Ulysses began by +saying, “Some of you go out and see if they are not getting close up to +us.” So one of Dolius’s sons went as he was bid. Standing on the +threshold he could see them all quite near, and said to Ulysses, “Here +they are, let us put on our armour at once.” + +They put on their armour as fast as they could—that is to say Ulysses, +his three men, and the six sons of Dolius. Laertes also and Dolius did +the same—warriors by necessity in spite of their grey hair. When they +had all put on their armour, they opened the gate and sallied forth, +Ulysses leading the way. + +Then Jove’s daughter Minerva came up to them, having assumed the form +and voice of Mentor. Ulysses was glad when he saw her, and said to his +son Telemachus, “Telemachus, now that you are about to fight in an +engagement, which will show every man’s mettle, be sure not to disgrace +your ancestors, who were eminent for their strength and courage all the +world over.” + +“You say truly, my dear father,” answered Telemachus, “and you shall +see, if you will, that I am in no mind to disgrace your family.” + +Laertes was delighted when he heard this. “Good heavens,” he exclaimed, +“what a day I am enjoying: I do indeed rejoice at it. My son and +grandson are vying with one another in the matter of valour.” + +On this Minerva came close up to him and said, “Son of Arceisius—-best +friend I have in the world—pray to the blue-eyed damsel, and to Jove +her father; then poise your spear and hurl it.” + +As she spoke she infused fresh vigour into him, and when he had prayed +to her he poised his spear and hurled it. He hit Eupeithes’ helmet, and +the spear went right through it, for the helmet stayed it not, and his +armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground. +Meantime Ulysses and his son fell upon the front line of the foe and +smote them with their swords and spears; indeed, they would have killed +every one of them, and prevented them from ever getting home again, +only Minerva raised her voice aloud, and made every one pause. “Men of +Ithaca,” she cried, “cease this dreadful war, and settle the matter at +once without further bloodshed.” + +On this pale fear seized every one; they were so frightened that their +arms dropped from their hands and fell upon the ground at the sound of +the goddess’ voice, and they fled back to the city for their lives. But +Ulysses gave a great cry, and gathering himself together swooped down +like a soaring eagle. Then the son of Saturn sent a thunderbolt of fire +that fell just in front of Minerva, so she said to Ulysses, “Ulysses, +noble son of Laertes, stop this warful strife, or Jove will be angry +with you.” + +Thus spoke Minerva, and Ulysses obeyed her gladly. Then Minerva assumed +the form and voice of Mentor, and presently made a covenant of peace +between the two contending parties. + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] [ Black races are evidently known to the writer as stretching all +across Africa, one half looking West on to the Atlantic, and the other +East on to the Indian Ocean.] + +[2] [ The original use of the footstool was probably less to rest the +feet than to keep them (especially when bare) from a floor which was +often wet and dirty.] + +[3] [ The θρόνος or seat, is occasionally called “high,” as being +higher than the θρῆνυς or low footstool. It was probably no higher than +an ordinary chair is now, and seems to have had no back.] + +[4] [ Temesa was on the West Coast of the toe of Italy, in what is now +the gulf of Sta Eufemia. It was famous in remote times for its copper +mines, which, however, were worked out when Strabo wrote.] + +[5] [ i.e. “with a current in it”—see illustrations and map near the +end of bks. v. and vi. respectively.] + +[6] [ Reading Νηρίτῳ for Νηίῳ, cf. “Od.” iii. 81 where the same mistake +is made, and xiii. 351 where the mountain is called Neritum, the same +place being intended both here and in book xiii.] + +[7] [ It is never plausibly explained why Penelope cannot do this, and +from bk. ii. it is clear that she kept on deliberately encouraging the +suitors, though we are asked to believe that she was only fooling +them.] + +[8] [ See note on “Od.” i. 365.] + +[9] [ Middle Argos means the Peleponnese which, however, is never so +called in the “Iliad”. I presume “middle” means “middle between the two +Greek-speaking countries of Asia Minor and Sicily, with South Italy”; +for that parts of Sicily and also large parts, though not the whole of +South Italy, were inhabited by Greek-speaking races centuries before +the Dorian colonisations can hardly be doubted. The Sicians, and also +the Sicels, both of them probably spoke Greek.] + +[10] [ cf. “Il.” vi. 490-495. In the “Iliad” it is “war,” not “speech,” +that is a man’s matter. It argues a certain hardness, or at any rate +dislike of the “Iliad” on the part of the writer of the “Odyssey,” that +she should have adopted Hector’s farewell to Andromache here, as +elsewhere in the poem, for a scene of such inferior pathos.] + +[11] [ μέγαρα σκιοέντα The whole open court with the covered cloister +running round it was called μέγαρον, or μέγαρα, but the covered part +was distinguished by being called “shady” or “shadow-giving”. It was in +this part that the tables for the suitors were laid. The Fountain Court +at Hampton Court may serve as an illustration (save as regards the use +of arches instead of wooden supports and rafters) and the arrangement +is still common in Sicily. The usual translation “shadowy” or “dusky” +halls, gives a false idea of the scene.] + +[12] [ The reader will note the extreme care which the writer takes to +make it clear that none of the suitors were allowed to sleep in +Ulysses’ house.] + +[13] [ See Appendix; g, in plan of Ulysses’ house.] + +[14] [ I imagine this passage to be a rejoinder to “Il.” xxiii. 702-705 +in which a tripod is valued at twelve oxen, and a good useful maid of +all work at only four. The scrupulous regard of Laertes for his wife’s +feelings is of a piece with the extreme jealousy for the honour of +woman, which is manifest throughout the “Odyssey”.] + +[15] [ χιτῶνα “The χιτών, or _tunica_, was a shirt or shift, and served +as the chief under garment of the Greeks and Romans, whether men or +women.” Smith’s Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities, under +“Tunica”.] + +[16] [ Doors fastened to all intents and purposes as here described may +be seen in the older houses at Trapani. There is a slot on the outer +side of the door by means of which a person who has left the room can +shoot the bolt. My bedroom at the Albergo Centrale was fastened in this +way.] + +[17] [ πύματον δ’ ὡπλίσσατο δόρπον. So we vulgarly say “had cooked his +goose,” or “had settled his hash.” Ægyptius cannot of course know of +the fate Antiphus had met with, for there had as yet been no news of or +from Ulysses.] + +[18] [ “Il.” xxii. 416. σχέσθε φίλοι, καὶ μ’ οἷον ἐάσατε...... The +authoress has bungled by borrowing these words verbatim from the +“Iliad”, without prefixing the necessary “do not,” which I have +supplied.] + +[19] [ i.e. you have money, and could pay when I got judgment, whereas +the suitors are men of straw.] + +[20] [ cf. “Il.” ii. 76. ἦ τοι ὄ γ’ ὦς εὶπὼν κατ’ ἄρ’ ἔζετο τοῖσι δ’ +ἀνέστη +Νέστωρ, ὄς ῥα....................................... +ὄ σφιν ἐὺ φρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν. +The Odyssean passage runs— +“ἦ τοι ὄ γ’ ὦς εὶπὼν κατ’ ἄρ’ ἔζετο τοῖσι δ’ ἀνέστη +Μεντορ ὄς ῥ’....................................... +ὄ σφιν ἐὺ φρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν. +Is it possible not to suspect that the name Mentor was coined upon that +of Nestor?] + +[21] [ i.e. in the outer court, and in the uncovered part of the inner +house.] + +[22] [ This would be fair from Sicily, which was doing duty for Ithaca +in the mind of the writer, but a North wind would have been preferable +for a voyage from the real Ithaca to Pylos.] + +[23] [ κελάδοντ’ ἐπὶ οὶνοπα πόντον The wind does not whistle over +waves. It only whistles through rigging or some other obstacle that +cuts it.] + +[24] [ cf. “Il.” v.20. Ἰδαῖος δ’ ἀπόρουσε λιπὼν περικαλλέα δίφρον, the +Odyssean line is ἠέλιος δ’ ἀνόρουσε λιπὼν περικαλλέα λίμνην. There can +be no doubt that the Odyssean line was suggested by the Iliadic, but +nothing can explain why Idæus jumping from his chariot should suggest +to the writer of the “Odyssey” the sun jumping from the sea. The +probability is that she never gave the matter a thought, but took the +line in question as an effect of saturation with the “Iliad,” and of +unconscious cerebration. The “Odyssey” contains many such examples.] + +[25] [ The heart, liver, lights, kidneys, etc. were taken out from the +inside and eaten first as being more readily cooked; the {Greek}, or +bone meat, was cooking while the {Greek} or inward parts were being +eaten. I imagine that the thigh bones made a kind of gridiron, while at +the same time the marrow inside them got cooked.] + +[26] [ i.e. skewers, either single, double, or even five pronged. The +meat would be pierced with the skewer, and laid over the ashes to +grill—the two ends of the skewer being supported in whatever way +convenient. Meat so cooking may be seen in any eating house in Smyrna, +or any Eastern town. When I rode across the Troad from the Dardanelles +to Hissarlik and Mount Ida, I noticed that my dragoman and his men did +all our outdoor cooking exactly in the Odyssean and Iliadic fashion.] + +[27] [ cf. “Il.” xvii. 567. {Greek} The Odyssean lines are—{Greek}] + +[28] [ Reading {Greek} for {Greek}, cf. “Od.” i. 186.] + +29[] [ The geography of the Ægean as above described is correct, but is +probably taken from the lost poem, the Nosti, the existence of which is +referred to “Od.” i. 326, 327 and 350, &c. A glance at the map will +show that heaven advised its supplicants quite correctly.] + +[30] [ The writer—ever jealous for the honour of women—extenuates +Clytemnestra’s guilt as far as possible, and explains it as due to her +having been left unprotected, and fallen into the hands of a wicked +man.] + +[31] [ The Greek is {Greek} cf. “Iliad” ii. 408 {Greek} Surely the +{Greek} of the Odyssean passage was due to the {Greek} of the “Iliad.” +No other reason suggests itself for the making Menelaus return on the +very day of the feast given by Orestes. The fact that in the “Iliad” +Menelaus came to a banquet without waiting for an invitation, +determines the writer of the “Odyssey” to make him come to a banquet, +also uninvited, but as circumstances did not permit of his having been +invited, his coming uninvited is shown to have been due to chance. I do +not think the authoress thought all this out, but attribute the +strangeness of the coincidence to unconscious cerebration and +saturation.] + +[32] [ cf. “Il.” I. 458, II. 421. The writer here interrupts an Iliadic +passage (to which she returns immediately) for the double purpose of +dwelling upon the slaughter of the heifer, and of letting Nestor’s wife +and daughter enjoy it also. A male writer, if he was borrowing from the +“Iliad,” would have stuck to his borrowing.] + +[33] [ cf. “Il.” xxiv. 587, 588 where the lines refer to the washing +the dead body of Hector.] + +[34] [ See illustration on opposite page. The yard is typical of many +that may be seen in Sicily. The existing ground-plan is probably +unmodified from Odyssean, and indeed long pre-Odyssean times, but the +earlier buildings would have no arches, and would, one would suppose, +be mainly timber. The Odyssean {Greek} were the sheds that ran round +the yard as the arches do now. The {Greek} was the one through which +the main entrance passed, and which was hence “noisy,” or +reverberating. It had an upper story in which visitors were often +lodged.] + +[35] [ This journey is an impossible one. Telemachus and Pisistratus +would have been obliged to drive over the Taygetus range, over which +there has never yet been a road for wheeled vehicles. It is plain +therefore that the audience for whom the “Odyssey” was written was one +that would be unlikely to know anything about the topography of the +Peloponnese, so that the writer might take what liberties she chose.] + +[36] [ The lines which I have enclosed in brackets are evidently an +afterthought—added probably by the writer herself—for they evince the +same instinctively greater interest in anything that may concern a +woman, which is so noticeable throughout the poem. There is no further +sign of any special festivities nor of any other guests than Telemachus +and Pisistratus, until lines 621-624 (ordinarily enclosed in brackets) +are abruptly introduced, probably with a view of trying to carry off +the introduction of the lines now in question. + +The addition was, I imagine, suggested by a desire to excuse and +explain the non-appearance of Hermione in bk. xv., as also of both +Hermione and Megapenthes in the rest of bk. iv. Megapenthes in bk. xv. +seems to be still a bachelor: the presumption therefore is that bk. xv. +was written before the story of his marriage here given. I take it he +is only married here because his sister is being married. She having +been properly attended to, Megapenthes might as well be married at the +same time. Hermione could not now be less than thirty. + +I have dealt with this passage somewhat more fully in my “Authoress of +the Odyssey”, p. 136-138. See also p. 256 of the same book.] + +[37] [ Sparta and Lacedaemon are here treated as two different places, +though in other parts of the poem it is clear that the writer +understands them as one. The catalogue in the “Iliad,” which the writer +is here presumably following, makes the same mistake (“Il.” ii. 581, +582)] + +[38] [ These last three lines are identical with “Il.” vxiii. 604-606.] + +[39] [ From the Greek {Greek} it is plain that Menelaus took up the +piece of meat with his fingers.] + +[40] [ Amber is never mentioned in the “Iliad.” Sicily, where I suppose +the “Odyssey” to have been written, has always been, and still is, one +of the principal amber producing countries. It was probably the only +one known in the Odyssean age. See “The Authoress of the Odyssey,” +Longmans 1898, p. 186.] + +[41] [ This no doubt refers to the story told in the last poem of the +Cypria about Paris and Helen robbing Menelaus of the greater part of +his treasures, when they sailed together for Troy.] + +[42] [ It is inconceivable that Helen should enter thus, in the middle +of supper, intending to work with her distaff, if great festivities +were going on. Telemachus and Pisistratus are evidently dining en +famille.] + +[43] [ In the Italian insurrection of 1848, eight young men who were +being hotly pursued by the Austrian police hid themselves inside +Donatello’s colossal wooden horse in the Salone at Padua, and remained +there for a week being fed by their confederates. In 1898 the last +survivor was carried round Padua in triumph.] + +[44] [ The Greek is {Greek}. Is it unfair to argue that the writer is a +person of somewhat delicate sensibility, to whom a strong smell of fish +is distasteful?] + +[45] [ The Greek is {Greek}. I believe this to be a hit at the writer’s +own countrymen who were of Phocaean descent, and the next following +line to be a rejoinder to complaints made against her in bk. vi. +273-288, to the effect that she gave herself airs and would marry none +of her own people. For that the writer of the “Odyssey” was the person +who has been introduced into the poem under the name of Nausicaa, I +cannot bring myself to question. I may remind English readers that +{Greek} (i.e. phoca) means “seal.” Seals almost always appear on +Phocaean coins.] + +[46] [ Surely here again we are in the hands of a writer of delicate +sensibility. It is not as though the seals were stale; they had only +just been killed. The writer, however is obviously laughing at her own +countrymen, and insulting them as openly as she dares.] + +[47] [ We were told above (lines 356, 357) that it was only one day’s +sail.] + +[48] [ I give the usual translation, but I do not believe the Greek +will warrant it. The Greek reads {Greek}. + +This is usually held to mean that Ithaca is an island fit for breeding +goats, and on that account more delectable to the speaker than it would +have been if it were fit for breeding horses. I find little authority +for such a translation; the most equitable translation of the text as +it stands is, “Ithaca is an island fit for breeding goats, and +delectable rather than fit for breeding horses; for not one of the +islands is good driving ground, nor well meadowed.” Surely the writer +does not mean that a pleasant or delectable island would not be fit for +breeding horses? The most equitable translation, therefore, of the +present text being thus halt and impotent, we may suspect corruption, +and I hazard the following emendation, though I have not adopted it in +my translation, as fearing that it would be deemed too fanciful. I +would read:—{Greek}. + +As far as scanning goes the {Greek} is not necessary; {Greek} iv. 72, +(Footnote Greek) iv. 233, to go no further afield than earlier lines of +the same book, give sufficient authority for {Greek}, but the {Greek} +would not be redundant; it would emphasise the surprise of the +contrast, and I should prefer to have it, though it is not very +important either way. This reading of course should be translated +“Ithaca is an island fit for breeding goats, and (by your leave) itself +a horseman rather than fit for breeding horses—for not one of the +islands is good and well meadowed ground.” + +This would be sure to baffle the Alexandrian editors. “How,” they would +ask themselves, “could an island be a horseman?” and they would cast +about for an emendation. A visit to the top of Mt. Eryx might perhaps +make the meaning intelligible, and suggest my proposed restoration of +the text to the reader as readily as it did to myself. + +I have elsewhere stated my conviction that the writer of the “Odyssey” +was familiar with the old Sican city at the top of Mt. Eryx, and that +the Aegadean islands which are so striking when seen thence did duty +with her for the Ionian islands—Marettimo, the highest and most +westerly of the group, standing for Ithaca. When seen from the top of +Mt. Eryx Marettimo shows as it should do according to “Od.” ix. 25, 26, +“on the horizon, all highest up in the sea towards the West,” while the +other islands lie “some way off it to the East.” As we descend to +Trapani, Marettimo appears to sink on to the top of the island of +Levanzo, behind which it disappears. My friend, the late Signor E. +Biaggini, pointed to it once as it was just standing on the top of +Levanzo, and said to me “Come cavalca bene” (“How well it rides”), and +this immediately suggested my emendation to me. Later on I found in the +hymn to the Pythian Apollo (which abounds with tags taken from the +“Odyssey”) a line ending {Greek} which strengthened my suspicion that +this was the original ending of the second of the two lines above under +consideration.] + +[49] [ See note on line 3 of this book. The reader will observe that +the writer has been unable to keep the women out of an interpolation +consisting only of four lines.] + +[50] [ Scheria means a piece of land jutting out into the sea. In my +“Authoress of the Odyssey” I thought “Jutland” would be a suitable +translation, but it has been pointed out to me that “Jutland” only +means the land of the Jutes.] + +[51] [ Irrigation as here described is common in gardens near Trapani. +The water that supplies the ducts is drawn from wells by a mule who +turns a wheel with buckets on it.] + +[52] [ There is not a word here about the cattle of the sun-god.] + +[53] [ The writer evidently thought that green, growing wood might also +be well seasoned.] + +[54] [ The reader will note that the river was flowing with salt water +i.e. that it was tidal.] + +[55] [ Then the Ogygian island was not so far off, but that Nausicaa +might be assumed to know where it was.] + +[56] [ Greek {Greek}] + +[57] [ I suspect a family joke, or sly allusion to some thing of which +we know nothing, in this story of Eurymedusa’s having been brought from +Apeira. The Greek word “apeiros” means “inexperienced,” “ignorant.” Is +it possible that Eurymedusa was notoriously incompetent?] + +[58] [ Polyphemus was also son to Neptune, see “Od.” ix. 412, 529. he +was therefore half brother to Nausithous, half uncle to King Alcinous, +and half great uncle to Nausicaa.] + +[59] [ It would seem as though the writer thought that Marathon was +close to Athens.] + +[60] [ Here the writer, knowing that she is drawing (with +embellishments) from things actually existing, becomes impatient of +past tenses and slides into the present.] + +[61] [ This is hidden malice, implying that the Phaeacian magnates were +no better than they should be. The final drink-offering should have +been made to Jove or Neptune, not to the god of thievishness and +rascality of all kinds. In line 164 we do indeed find Echeneus +proposing that a drink-offering should be made to Jove, but Mercury is +evidently, according to our authoress, the god who was most likely to +be of use to them.] + +[62] [ The fact of Alcinous knowing anything about the Cyclopes +suggests that in the writer’s mind Scheria and the country of the +Cyclopes were not very far from one another. I take the Cyclopes and +the giants to be one and the same people.] + +[63] [ “My property, etc.” The authoress is here adopting an Iliadic +line (xix. 333), and this must account for the absence of all reference +to Penelope. If she had happened to remember “Il.” v. 213, she would +doubtless have appropriated it by preference, for that line reads “my +country, _my wife_, and all the greatness of my house.”] + +[64] [ The at first inexplicable sleep of Ulysses (bk. xiii. 79, etc.) +is here, as also in viii. 445, being obviously prepared. The writer +evidently attached the utmost importance to it. Those who know that the +harbour which did duty with the writer of the “Odyssey” for the one in +which Ulysses landed in Ithaca, was only about 2 miles from the place +in which Ulysses is now talking with Alcinous, will understand why the +sleep was so necessary.] + +[65] [ There were two classes—the lower who were found in provisions +which they had to cook for themselves in the yards and outer precincts, +where they would also eat—and the upper who would eat in the cloisters +of the inner court, and have their cooking done for them.] + +[66] [ Translation very dubious. I suppose the {Greek} here to be the +covered sheds that ran round the outer courtyard. See illustrations at +the end of bk. iii.] + +[67] [ The writer apparently deems that the words “as compared with +what oxen can plough in the same time” go without saying. Not so the +writer of the “Iliad” from which the Odyssean passage is probably +taken. He explains that mules can plough quicker than oxen (“Il.” x. +351-353)] + +[68] [ It was very fortunate that such a disc happened to be there, +seeing that none like it were in common use.] + +[69] [ “Il.” xiii. 37. Here, as so often elsewhere in the “Odyssey,” +the appropriation of an Iliadic line which is not quite appropriate +puzzles the reader. The “they” is not the chains, nor yet Mars and +Venus. It is an overflow from the Iliadic passage in which Neptune +hobbles his horses in bonds “which none could either unloose or break +so that they might stay there in that place.” If the line would have +scanned without the addition of the words “so that they might stay +there in that place,” they would have been omitted in the “Odyssey.”] + +[70] [ The reader will note that Alcinous never goes beyond saying that +he is going to give the goblet; he never gives it. Elsewhere in both +“Iliad” and “Odyssey” the offer of a present is immediately followed by +the statement that it was given and received gladly—Alcinous actually +does give a chest and a cloak and shirt—probably also some of the corn +and wine for the long two-mile voyage was provided by him—but it is +quite plain that he gave no talent and no cup.] + +[71] [ “Il.” xviii. 344-349. These lines in the “Iliad” tell of the +preparation for washing the body of Patroclus, and I am not pleased +that the writer of the “Odyssey” should have adopted them here.] + +[72] [ see note [64] : ] + +[73] [ see note [43] : ] + +[74] [ The reader will find this threat fulfilled in bk. xiii] + +[75] [ If the other islands lay some distance away from Ithaca (which +the word {Greek} suggests), what becomes of the πόρθμος or gut between +Ithaca and Samos which we hear of in Bks. iv. and xv.? I suspect that +the authoress in her mind makes Telemachus come back from Pylos to the +Lilybaean promontory and thence to Trapani through the strait between +the _Isola Grande_ and the mainland—the island of Asteria being the one +on which Motya afterwards stood.] + +[76] [ “Il.” xviii. 533-534. The sudden lapse into the third person +here for a couple of lines is due to the fact that the two Iliadic +lines taken are in the third person.] + +[77] [ cf. “Il.” ii. 776. The words in both “Iliad” and “Odyssey” are +[Footnote Greek]. In the “Iliad” they are used of the horses of +Achilles’ followers as they stood idle, “champing lotus.”] + +[78] [ I take all this passage about the Cyclopes having no ships to be +sarcastic—meaning, “You people of Drepanum have no excuse for not +colonising the island of Favognana, which you could easily do, for you +have plenty of ships, and the island is a very good one.” For that the +island so fully described here is the Aegadean or “goat” island of +Favognana, and that the Cyclopes are the old Sican inhabitants of Mt. +Eryx should not be doubted.] + +[79] [ For the reasons why it was necessary that the night should be so +exceptionally dark see “The Authoress of the Odyssey” pp. 188-189.] + +[80] [ None but such lambs as would suck if they were with their +mothers would be left in the yard. The older lambs should have been out +feeding. The authoress has got it all wrong, but it does not matter. +See “The Authoress of the Odyssey” p. 148.] + +[81] [ This line is enclosed in brackets in the received text, and is +omitted (with note) by Messrs. Butcher & Lang. But lines enclosed in +brackets are almost always genuine; all that brackets mean is that the +bracketed passage puzzled some early editor, who nevertheless found it +too well established in the text to venture on omitting it. In the +present case the line bracketed is the very last which a full-grown +male editor would be likely to interpolate. It is safer to infer that +the writer, a young woman, not knowing or caring at which end of the +ship the rudder should be, determined to make sure by placing it at +both ends, which we shall find she presently does by repeating it (line +340) at the stern of the ship. As for the two rocks thrown, the first I +take to be the Asinelli, see map facing p. 80. The second I see as the +two contiguous islands of the Formiche, which are treated as one, see +map facing p. 108. The Asinelli is an island shaped like a boat, and +pointing to the island of Favognana. I think the authoress’s +compatriots, who probably did not like her much better that she did +them, jeered at the absurdity of Ulysses’ conduct, and saw the Asinelli +or “donkeys,” not as the rock thrown by Polyphemus, but as the boat +itself containing Ulysses and his men.] + +[82] [ This line exists in the text here but not in the corresponding +passage xii. 141. I am inclined to think it is interpolated (probably +by the poetess herself) from the first of lines xi. 115-137, which I +can hardly doubt were added by the writer when the scheme of the work +was enlarged and altered. See “The Authoress of the Odyssey” pp. +254-255.] + +[83] [ “Floating” (πλωτῇ) is not to be taken literally. The island +itself, as apart from its inhabitants, was quite normal. There is no +indication of its moving during the month that Ulysses stayed with +Aeolus, and on his return from his unfortunate voyage, he seems to have +found it in the same place. The πλωτῇ in fact should no more be pressed +than θοῇσι as applied to islands, “Odyssey” xv. 299—where they are +called “flying” because the ship would fly past them. So also the +“Wanderers,” as explained by Buttmann; see note on “Odyssey” xii. 57.] + +[84] [ Literally “for the ways of the night and of the day are near.” I +have seen what Mr. Andrew Lang says (“Homer and the Epic,” p. 236, and +“Longman’s Magazine” for January, 1898, p. 277) about the “amber route” +and the “Sacred Way” in this connection; but until he gives his grounds +for holding that the Mediterranean peoples in the Odyssean age used to +go far North for their amber instead of getting it in Sicily, where it +is still found in considerable quantities, I do not know what weight I +ought to attach to his opinion. I have been unable to find grounds for +asserting that B.C. 1000 there was any commerce between the +Mediterranean and the “Far North,” but I shall be very ready to learn +if Mr. Lang will enlighten me. See “The Authoress of the Odyssey” pp. +185-186.] + +[85] [ One would have thought that when the sun was driving the stag +down to the water, Ulysses might have observed its whereabouts.] + +[86] [ See Hobbes of Malmesbury’s translation.] + +[87] [ “Il.” vxiii. 349. Again the writer draws from the washing the +body of Patroclus—which offends.] + +[88] [ This visit is wholly without topographical significance.] + +[89] [ Brides presented themselves instinctively to the imagination of +the writer, as the phase of humanity which she found most interesting.] + +[90] [ Ulysses was, in fact, to become a missionary and preach Neptune +to people who knew not his name. I was fortunate enough to meet in +Sicily a woman carrying one of these winnowing shovels; it was not much +shorter than an oar, and I was able at once to see what the writer of +the “Odyssey” intended.] + +[91] [ I suppose the lines I have enclosed in brackets to have been +added by the author when she enlarged her original scheme by the +addition of books i.-iv. and xiii. (from line 187)-xxiv. The reader +will observe that in the corresponding passage (xii. 137-141) the +prophecy ends with “after losing all your comrades,” and that there is +no allusion to the suitors. For fuller explanation see “The Authoress +of the Odyssey” pp. 254-255.] + +[92] [ The reader will remember that we are in the first year of +Ulysses’ wanderings, Telemachus therefore was only eleven years old. +The same anachronism is made later on in this book. See “The Authoress +of the Odyssey” pp. 132-133.] + +[93] [ Tradition says that she had hanged herself. Cf. “Odyssey” xv. +355, etc.] + +[94] [ Not to be confounded with Aeolus king of the winds.] + +[95] [ Melampus, vide book xv. 223, etc.] + +[96] [ I have already said in a note on bk. xi. 186 that at this point +of Ulysses’ voyage Telemachus could only be between eleven and twelve +years old.] + +[97] [ Is the writer a man or a woman?] + +[98] [ Cf. “Il.” iv. 521, {Greek}. The Odyssean line reads, {Greek}. +The famous dactylism, therefore, of the Odyssean line was probably +suggested by that of the Ileadic rather than by a desire to accommodate +sound to sense. At any rate the double coincidence of a dactylic line, +and an ending {Greek}, seems conclusive as to the familiarity of the +writer of the “Odyssey” with the Iliadic line.] + +[99] [ Off the coast of Sicily and South Italy, in the month of May, I +have seen men fastened half way up a boat’s mast with their feet +resting on a crosspiece, just large enough to support them. From this +point of vantage they spear sword-fish. When I saw men thus employed I +could hardly doubt that the writer of the “Odyssey” had seen others +like them, and had them in her mind when describing the binding of +Ulysses. I have therefore with some diffidence ventured to depart from +the received translation of ἰστοπέδη (cf. Alcaeus frag. 18, where, +however, it is very hard to say what ἰστοπέδαν means). In Sophocles’ +Lexicon I find a reference to Chrysostom (l, 242, A. Ed. Benedictine +Paris 1834-1839) for the word ἰστοπόδη, which is probably the same as +ἰστοπέδη, but I have looked for the passage in vain.] + +[100] [ The writer is at fault here and tries to put it off on Circe. +When Ulysses comes to take the route prescribed by Circe, he ought to +pass either the Wanderers or some other difficulty of which we are not +told, but he does not do so. The Planctae, or Wanderers, merge into +Scylla and Charybdis, and the alternative between them and something +untold merges into the alternative whether Ulysses had better choose +Scylla or Charybdis. Yet from line 260, it seems we are to consider the +Wanderers as having been passed by Ulysses; this appears even more +plainly from xxiii. 327, in which Ulysses expressly mentions the +Wandering rocks as having been between the Sirens and Scylla and +Charybdis. The writer, however, is evidently unaware that she does not +quite understand her own story; her difficulty was perhaps due to the +fact that though Trapanese sailors had given her a fair idea as to +where all her other localities really were, no one in those days more +than in our own could localise the Planctae, which in fact, as Buttmann +has argued, were derived not from any particular spot, but from +sailors’ tales about the difficulties of navigating the group of the +Aeolian islands as a whole (see note on “Od.” x. 3). Still the matter +of the poor doves caught her fancy, so she would not forgo them. The +whirlwinds of fire and the smoke that hangs on Scylla suggests allusion +to Stromboli and perhaps even Etna. Scylla is on the Italian side, and +therefore may be said to look West. It is about 8 miles thence to the +Sicilian coast, so Ulysses may be perfectly well told that after +passing Scylla he will come to the Thrinacian island or Sicily. +Charybdis is transposed to a site some few miles to the north of its +actual position.] + +[101] [ I suppose this line to have been intercalated by the author +when lines 426-446 were added.] + +[102] [ For the reasons which enable us to identify the island of the +two Sirens with the Lipari island now Salinas—the ancient Didyme, or +“twin” island—see The Authoress of the Odyssey, pp. 195, 196. The two +Sirens doubtless were, as their name suggests, the whistling gusts, or +avalanches of air that at times descend without a moment’s warning from +the two lofty mountains of Salinas—as also from all high points in the +neighbourhood.] + +[103] [ See Admiral Smyth on the currents in the Straits of Messina, +quoted in “The Authoress of the Odyssey,” p. 197.] + +[104] [ In the islands of Favognana and Marettimo off Trapani I have +seen men fish exactly as here described. They chew bread into a paste +and throw it into the sea to attract the fish, which they then spear. +No line is used.] + +[105] [ The writer evidently regards Ulysses as on a coast that looked +East at no great distance south of the Straits of Messina somewhere, +say, near Tauromenium, now Taormina.] + +[106] [ Surely there must be a line missing here to tell us that the +keel and mast were carried down into Charybdis. Besides, the aorist +{Greek} in its present surrounding is perplexing. I have translated it +as though it were an imperfect; I see Messrs. Butcher and Lang +translate it as a pluperfect, but surely Charybdis was in the act of +sucking down the water when Ulysses arrived.] + +[107] [ I suppose the passage within brackets to have been an +afterthought but to have been written by the same hand as the rest of +the poem. I suppose xii. 103 to have been also added by the writer when +she decided on sending Ulysses back to Charybdis. The simile suggests +the hand of the wife or daughter of a magistrate who had often seen her +father come in cross and tired.] + +[108] [ Gr. πολυδαίδαλος. This puts coined money out of the question, +but nevertheless implies that the gold had been worked into ornaments +of some kind.] + +[109] [ I suppose Teiresias’ prophecy of bk. xi. 114-120 had made no +impression on Ulysses. More probably the prophecy was an afterthought, +intercalated, as I have already said, by the authoress when she changed +her scheme.] + +[110] [ A male writer would have made Ulysses say, not “may you give +satisfaction to your wives,” but “may your wives give satisfaction to +you.”] + +[111] [ See note [64].] + +[112] [ The land was in reality the shallow inlet, now the salt works +of S. Cusumano—the neighbourhood of Trapani and Mt. Eryx being made to +do double duty, both as Scheria and Ithaca. Hence the necessity for +making Ulysses set out after dark, fall instantly into a profound +sleep, and wake up on a morning so foggy that he could not see anything +till the interviews between Neptune and Jove and between Ulysses and +Minerva should have given the audience time to accept the situation. +See illustrations and map near the end of bks. v. and vi. +respectively.] + +[113] [ This cave, which is identifiable with singular completeness, is +now called the “grotta del toro,” probably a corruption of “tesoro,” +for it is held to contain a treasure. See The Authoress of the Odyssey, +pp. 167-170.] + +[114] [ Probably they would.] + +[115] [ Then it had a shallow shelving bottom.] + +[116] [ Doubtless the road would pass the harbour in Odyssean times as +it passes the salt works now; indeed, if there is to be a road at all +there is no other level ground which it could take. See map above +referred to.] + +[117] [ The rock at the end of the Northern harbour of Trapani, to +which I suppose the writer of the “Odyssey” to be here referring, still +bears the name Malconsiglio—“the rock of evil counsel.” There is a +legend that it was a ship of Turkish pirates who were intending to +attack Trapani, but the “Madonna di Trapani” crushed them under this +rock just as they were coming into port. My friend Cavaliere +Giannitrapani of Trapani told me that his father used to tell him when +he was a boy that if he would drop exactly three drops of oil on to the +water near the rock, he would see the ship still at the bottom. The +legend is evidently a Christianised version of the Odyssean story, +while the name supplies the additional detail that the disaster +happened in consequence of an evil counsel.] + +[118] [ It would seem then that the ship had got all the way back from +Ithaca in about a quarter of an hour.] + +[119] [ And may we not add “and also to prevent his recognising that he +was only in the place where he had met Nausicaa two days earlier.”] + +[120] [ All this is to excuse the entire absence of Minerva from books +ix.-xii., which I suppose had been written already, before the +authoress had determined on making Minerva so prominent a character.] + +[121] [ We have met with this somewhat lame attempt to cover the +writer’s change of scheme at the end of bk. vi.] + +[122] [ I take the following from The Authoress of the Odyssey, p. 167. +“It is clear from the text that there were two [caves] not one, but +some one has enclosed in brackets the two lines in which the second +cave is mentioned, I presume because he found himself puzzled by having +a second cave sprung upon him when up to this point he had only been +told of one. + +“I venture to think that if he had known the ground he would not have +been puzzled, for there are two caves, distant about 80 or 100 yards +from one another.” The cave in which Ulysses hid his treasure is, as I +have already said, identifiable with singular completeness. The other +cave presents no special features, neither in the poem nor in nature.] + +[123] [ There is no attempt to disguise the fact that Penelope had long +given encouragement to the suitors. The only defence set up is that she +did not really mean to encourage them. Would it not have been wiser to +have tried a little discouragement?] + +[124] [ See map near the end of bk. vi. _Ruccazzù dei corvi_ of course +means “the rock of the ravens.” Both name and ravens still exist.] + +[125] [ See The Authoress of the Odyssey, pp. 140, 141. The real reason +for sending Telemachus to Pylos and Lacedaemon was that the authoress +might get Helen of Troy into her poem. He was sent at the only point in +the story at which he could be sent, so he must have gone then or not +at all.] + +[126] [ The site I assign to Eumaeus’s hut, close to the _Ruccazzù dei +corvi_, is about 2,000 feet above the sea, and commands an extensive +view.] + +[127] [ Sandals such as Eumaeus was making are still worn in the +Abruzzi and elsewhere. An oblong piece of leather forms the sole: holes +are cut at the four corners, and through these holes leathern straps +are passed, which are bound round the foot and cross-gartered up the +calf.] + +[128] [ See note [75] : ] + +[129] [ Telemachus like many another good young man seems to expect +every one to fetch and carry for him.] + +[130] [ “Il.” vi. 288. The store room was fragrant because it was made +of cedar wood. See “Il.” xxiv. 192.] + +[131] [ cf. “Il.” vi. 289 and 293-296. The dress was kept at the bottom +of the chest as one that would only be wanted on the greatest +occasions; but surely the marriage of Hermione and of Megapenthes (bk, +iv. _ad init_.) might have induced Helen to wear it on the preceding +evening, in which case it could hardly have got back. We find no hint +here of Megapenthes’ recent marriage.] + +[132] [ See note [83].] + +[133] [ cf. “Od.” xi. 196, etc.] + +[134] [ The names Syra and Ortygia, on which island a great part of the +Doric Syracuse was originally built, suggest that even in Odyssean +times there was a prehistoric Syracuse, the existence of which was +known to the writer of the poem.] + +[135] [ Literally “where are the turnings of the sun.” Assuming, as we +may safely do, that the Syra and Ortygia of the “Odyssey” refer to +Syracuse, it is the fact that not far to the South of these places the +land turns sharply round, so that mariners following the coast would +find the sun upon the other side of their ship to that on which they’d +had it hitherto. + +Mr. A. S. Griffith has kindly called my attention to Herod iv. 42, +where, speaking of the circumnavigation of Africa by Phoenician +mariners under Necos, he writes: + +“On their return they declared—I for my part do not believe them, but +perhaps others may—that in sailing round Libya [i.e. Africa] they had +the sun upon their right hand. In this way was the extent of Libya +first discovered. + +“I take it that Eumaeus was made to have come from Syracuse because the +writer thought she rather ought to have made something happen at +Syracuse during her account of the voyages of Ulysses. She could not, +however, break his long drift from Charybdis to the island of +Pantellaria; she therefore resolved to make it up to Syracuse in +another way.” + +Modern excavations establish the existence of two and only two +pre-Dorian communities at Syracuse; they were, so Dr. Orsi informed me, +at Plemmirio and Cozzo Pantano. See The Authoress of the Odyssey, pp. +211-213.] + +[136] [ This harbour is again evidently the harbour in which Ulysses +had landed, i.e. the harbour that is now the salt works of S. +Cusumano.] + +[137] [ This never can have been anything but very niggardly pay for +some eight or nine days’ service. I suppose the crew were to consider +the pleasure of having had a trip to Pylos as a set off. There is no +trace of the dinner as having been actually given, either on the +following or any other morning.] + +[138] [ No hawk can tear its prey while it is on the wing.] + +[139] [ The text is here apparently corrupt, and will not make sense as +it stands. I follow Messrs. Butcher & Lang in omitting line 101.] + +[140] [ i.e. to be milked, as in South Italian and Sicilian towns at +the present day.] + +[141] [ The butchering and making ready the carcases took place partly +in the outer yard and partly in the open part of the inner court.] + +[142] [ These words cannot mean that it would be afternoon soon after +they were spoken. Ulysses and Eumaeus reached the town which was “some +way off” (xvii. 25) in time for the suitor’s early meal (xvii. 170 and +176) say at ten or eleven o’ clock. The context of the rest of the book +shows this. Eumaeus and Ulysses, therefore, cannot have started later +than eight or nine, and Eumaeus’s words must be taken as an +exaggeration for the purpose of making Ulysses bestir himself.] + +[143] [ I imagine the fountain to have been somewhere about where the +church of the _Madonna di Trapani_ now stands, and to have been fed +with water from what is now called the Fontana Diffali on Mt. Eryx.] + +[144] [ From this and other passages in the “Odyssey” it appears that +we are in an age anterior to the use of coined money—an age when +cauldrons, tripods, swords, cattle, chattels of all kinds, measures of +corn, wine, or oil, etc. etc., not to say pieces of gold, silver, +bronze, or even iron, wrought more or less, but unstamped, were the +nearest approach to a currency that had as yet been reached.] + +[145] [ Gr. ἐς μέσσον.] + +[146] [ I correct these proofs abroad and am not within reach of +Hesiod, but surely this passage suggests acquaintance with the Works +and Ways, though it by no means compels it.] + +[147] [ It would seem as though Eurynome and Euryclea were the same +person. See note 156] + +[148] [ It is plain, therefore, that Iris was commonly accepted as the +messenger of the gods, though our authoress will never permit her to +fetch or carry for any one.] + +[149] [ i.e. the doorway leading from the inner to the outer court.] + +[150] [See note 156] + +[151] [ These, I imagine, must have been in the open part of the inner +courtyard, where the maids also stood, and threw the light of their +torches into the covered cloister that ran all round it. The smoke +would otherwise have been intolerable.] + +[152] [ Translation very uncertain; vide Liddell and Scott, under +{Greek}] + +[153] [ See photo on opposite page.] + +[154] [ cf. “Il.” ii. 184, and 217, 218. An additional and well-marked +feature being wanted to convince Penelope, the writer has taken the +hunched shoulders of Thersites (who is mentioned immediately after +Eurybates in the “Iliad”) and put them on to Eurybates’ back.] + +[155] [ This is how geese are now fed in Sicily, at any rate in summer, +when the grass is all burnt up. I have never seen them grazing.] + +[156] [ Lower down (line 143) Euryclea says it was herself that had +thrown the cloak over Ulysses—for the plural should not be taken as +implying more than one person. The writer is evidently still +fluctuating between Euryclea and Eurynome as the name for the old +nurse. She probably originally meant to call her Euryclea, but finding +it not immediately easy to make Euryclea scan in xvii. 495, she hastily +called her Eurynome, intending either to alter this name later or to +change the earlier Euryclea’s into Eurynome. She then drifted in to +Eurynome as convenience further directed, still nevertheless hankering +after Euryclea, till at last she found that the path of least +resistance would lie in the direction of making Eurynome and Euryclea +two persons. Therefore in xxiii. 289-292 both Eurynome and “the nurse” +(who can be none other than Euryclea) come on together. I do not say +that this is feminine, but it is not unfeminine.] + +[157] [ See note [156]] + +[158] [ This, I take it, was immediately in front of the main entrance +of the inner courtyard into the body of the house.] + +[159] [ This is the only allusion to Sardinia in either “Iliad” or +“Odyssey.”] + +[160] [ The normal translation of the Greek word would be “holding +back,” “curbing,” “restraining,” but I cannot think that the writer +meant this—she must have been using the word in its other sense of +“having,” “holding,” “keeping,” “maintaining.”] + +[161] [ I have vainly tried to realise the construction of the +fastening here described.] + +[162] [ See plan of Ulysses’ house in the appendix. It is evident that +the open part of the court had no flooring but the natural soil.] + +[163] [ See plan of Ulysses’ house, and note [175].] + +[164] [ i.e. the door that led into the body of the house.] + +[165] [ This was, no doubt, the little table that was set for Ulysses, +“Od.” xx. 259. + +Surely the difficulty of this passage has been overrated. I suppose the +iron part of the axe to have been wedged into the handle, or bound +securely to it—the handle being half buried in the ground. The axe +would be placed edgeways towards the archer, and he would have to shoot +his arrow through the hole into which the handle was fitted when the +axe was in use. Twelve axes were placed in a row all at the same +height, all exactly in front of one another, all edgeways to Ulysses +whose arrow passed through all the holes from the first onward. I +cannot see how the Greek can bear any other interpretation, the words +being, {Greek} + +“He did not miss a single hole from the first onwards.” {Greek} +according to Liddell and Scott being “the hole for the handle of an +axe, etc.,” while {Greek} (“Od.” v. 236) is, according to the same +authorities, the handle itself. The feat is absurdly impossible, but +our authoress sometimes has a soul above impossibilities.] + +[166] [ The reader will note how the spoiling of good food distresses +the writer even in such a supreme moment as this.] + +[167] [ Here we have it again. Waste of substance comes first.] + +[168] [ cf. “Il.” iii. 337 and three other places. It is strange that +the author of the “Iliad” should find a little horse-hair so alarming. +Possibly enough she was merely borrowing a common form line from some +earlier poet—or poetess—for this is a woman’s line rather than a +man’s.] + +[169] [ Or perhaps simply “window.” See plan in the appendix.] + +[170] [ i.e. the pavement on which Ulysses was standing.] + +[171] [ The interpretation of lines 126-143 is most dubious, and at +best we are in a region of melodrama: cf., however, i. 425, etc. from +which it appears that there was a tower in the outer court, and that +Telemachus used to sleep in it. The ὀρσοθύρα I take to be a door, or +trap door, leading on to the roof above Telemachus’s bed room, which we +are told was in a place that could be seen from all round—or it might +be simply a window in Telemachus’s room looking out into the street. +From the top of the tower the outer world was to be told what was going +on, but people could not get in by the ὀρσοθύρα: they would have to +come in by the main entrance, and Melanthius explains that the mouth of +the narrow passage (which was in the lands of Ulysses and his friends) +commanded the only entrance by which help could come, so that there +would be nothing gained by raising an alarm. + As for the ῥῶγες of line 143, no commentator ancient or modern has + been able to say what was intended—but whatever they were, + Melanthius could never carry twelve shields, twelve helmets, and + twelve spears. Moreover, where he could go the others could go + also. If a dozen suitors had followed Melanthius into the house + they could have attacked Ulysses in the rear, in which case, unless + Minerva had intervened promptly, the “Odyssey” would have had a + different ending. But throughout the scene we are in a region of + extravagance rather than of true fiction—it cannot be taken + seriously by any but the very serious, until we come to the episode + of Phemius and Medon, where the writer begins to be at home again.] + +[172] [ I presume it was intended that there should be a hook driven +into the bearing-post.] + +[173] [ What for?] + +[174] [ Gr: {Greek}. This is not {Greek}.] + +[175] [ From lines 333 and 341 of this book, and lines 145 and 146 of +bk. xxi we can locate the approach to the {Greek} with some certainty.] + +[176] [ But in xix. 500-502 Ulysses scolded Euryclea for offering +information on this very point, and declared himself quite able to +settle it for himself.] + +[177] [ There were a hundred and eight Suitors.] + +[178] [ Lord Grimthorpe, whose understanding does not lend itself to +easy imposition, has been good enough to write to me about my +conviction that the “Odyssey” was written by a woman, and to send me +remarks upon the gross absurdity of the incident here recorded. It is +plain that all the authoress cared about was that the women should be +hanged: as for attempting to realise, or to make her readers realise, +how the hanging was done, this was of no consequence. The reader must +take her word for it and ask no questions. Lord Grimthorpe wrote: + +“I had better send you my ideas about Nausicaa’s hanging of the maids +(not ‘maidens,’ of whom Froude wrote so well in his ‘Science of +History’) before I forget it all. Luckily for me Liddell & Scott have +specially translated most of the doubtful words, referring to this very +place. + +“A ship’s cable. I don’t know how big a ship she meant, but it must +have been a very small one indeed if its ‘cable’ could be used to tie +tightly round a woman’s neck, and still more round a dozen of them ‘in +a row,’ besides being strong enough to hold them and pull them all up. + +“A dozen average women would need the weight and strength of more than +a dozen strong heavy men even over the best pulley hung to the roof +over them; and the idea of pulling them up by a rope hung anyhow round +a pillar {Greek} is absurdly impossible; and how a dozen of them could +be hung dangling round one post is a problem which a senior wrangler +would be puzzled to answer... She had better have let Telemachus use +his sword as he had intended till she changed his mind for him.”] + +[179] [ Then they had all been in Ulysses’ service over twenty years; +perhaps the twelve guilty ones had been engaged more recently.] + +[180] [ Translation very doubtful—cf. “It.” xxiv. 598.] + +[181] [ But why could she not at once ask to see the scar, of which +Euryclea had told her, or why could not Ulysses have shown it to her?] + +[182] [ The people of Ithaca seem to have been as fond of carping as +the Phaeacians were in vi. 273, etc.] + +[183] [ See note [156]. Ulysses’s bed room does not appear to have been +upstairs, nor yet quite within the house. Is it possible that it was +“the domed room” round the outside of which the erring maids were, for +aught we have heard to the contrary, still hanging?] + +[184] [ Ulysses bedroom in the mind of the writer is here too +apparently down stairs.] + +[185] [ Penelope having been now sufficiently whitewashed, disappears +from the poem.] + +[186] [ So practised a washerwoman as our authoress doubtless knew that +by this time the web must have become such a wreck that it would have +gone to pieces in the wash.] + +A lady points out to me, just as these sheets are leaving my hands, +that no really good needlewoman—no one, indeed, whose work or character +was worth consideration—could have endured, no matter for what reason, +the unpicking of her day’s work, day after day for between three and +four years.] + +[187] [ We must suppose Dolius not yet to know that his son Melanthius +had been tortured, mutilated, and left to die by Ulysses’ orders on the +preceding day, and that his daughter Melantho had been hanged. Dolius +was probably exceptionally simple-minded, and his name was ironical. So +on Mt. Eryx I was shown a man who was always called Sonza Malizia or +“Guileless”—he being held exceptionally cunning.] + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ODYSSEY *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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