Odysseus-beggar

“Friend, who was it who bought thee with his wealth, a man so very rich and mighty, as thou tellest? Thou saidest that he died to win recompense for Agamemnon; tell me, if haply I may know him, being such an one. For Zeus, I ween, and the other immortal gods know whether I have seen him, and could bring tidings; for I have wandered far.” Then the swineherd, a leader of men, answered him: “Old man, no wanderer that came and brought tidings of him could persuade his wife and his dear son; nay, at random, when they have need of entertainment, do vagabonds

that he will never come again, and thy heart is ever unbelieving, therefore will I tell thee, not at random but with an oath, that Odysseus shall return. And let me have a reward for bearing good tidings, as soon as he shall come, and reach his home; clothe me in a cloak and tunic, goodly raiment. But ere that, how sore soever my need, I will accept naught; for hateful in my eyes as the gates of Hades is that man, who, yielding to stress of poverty, tells a deceitful tale. Now be my witness Zeus, above all gods, and this hospitable board, and the hearth of noble Odysseus to which I am come, that verily all these things shall be brought to pass even as I tell thee. In the course of this self-same day1 Odysseus shall come hither, as the old moon wanes, and the new appears. He shall return, and take vengeance on all those who here dishonor his wife and his glorious son.”

to feast on in quiet here in thy hut, and that others might go about their work; easily then might I tell on for a full year, and yet in no wise finish the tale of the woes of my spirit—even all the toils that I have endured by the will of the gods. “From broad Crete I declare that I am come by lineage, the son of a wealthy man. And many other sons too were born and bred in his halls, true sons of a lawful wife; but the mother that bore me was bought, a concubine. Yet Castor, son of Hylax, of whom I declare that I am sprung, honored me even as his true-born sons. He was at that time honored as a god among the Cretans in the land for his good estate, and his wealth, and his glorious sons. But the fates of death bore him away to the house of Hades, and his proud sons divided among them his substance, and cast lots therefor. To me they gave a very small portion, and allotted a dwelling. But I took unto me a wife from a house that had wide possessions, winning her by my valor; for I was no weakling, nor a coward in fight. Now all that strength is gone; yet even so, in seeing the stubble, methinks thou mayest judge what the grain was; for verily troubles in full measure encompass me. But then Ares and Athena gave me courage, and strength that breaks the ranks of men; and whenever I picked the best warriors for an ambush, sowing the seeds of evil for the foe, never did my proud spirit forbode death, but ever far the first did I leap forth, and slay with my spear whosoever of the foe gave way in flight before me.1 Such a man was I in war, but labour in the field was never to my liking, nor the care of a household, which rears goodly children, but oared ships were ever dear to me, and wars, and polished spears, and arrows,—grievous things, whereat others are wont to shudder. But those things, I ween, were dear to me, which a god put in my heart; for different men take joy in different works. For before the sons of the Achaeans set foot on the land of Troy, I had nine times led warriors and swift-faring ships against foreign folk, and great spoil had ever fallen to my hands. Of this I would choose what pleased my mind, and much I afterwards obtained by lot. Thus my house straightway grew rich, and thereafter I became one feared and honored among the Cretans. “But when Zeus, whose voice is borne afar, devised that hateful journey which loosened the knees of many a warrior, then they bade me and glorious Idomeneus to lead the ships to Ilios, nor was there any way to refuse, for the voice of the people pressed hard upon us. There for nine years we sons of the Achaeans warred, and in the tenth we sacked the city of Priam, and set out for home in our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans. But for me, wretched man that I was, Zeus, the counsellor, devised evil. For a month only I remained, taking joy in my children, my wedded wife, and my wealth; and then to Egypt did my spirit bid me voyage with my godlike comrades, when I had fitted out my ships with care. Nine ships I fitted out, and the host gathered speedily. Then for six days my trusty comrades feasted, and I gave them many victims, that they might sacrifice to the gods, and prepare a feast for themselves; and on the seventh we embarked and set sail from broad Crete, with the North Wind blowing fresh and fair, and ran on easily as if down stream. No harm came to any of my ships, but free from scathe and from disease we sat, and the wind and the helmsman guided the ships. “On the fifth day we came to fair-flowing Aegyptus, and in the river Aegyptus I moored my curved ships. Then verily I bade my trusty comrades to remain there by the ships, and to guard the ships, and I sent out scouts to go to places of outlook. But my comrades, yielding to wantonness, and led on by their own might, straightway set about wasting the fair fields of the men of Egypt; and they carried off the women and little children, and slew the men; and the cry came quickly to the city. Then, hearing the shouting, the people came forth at break of day, and the whole plain was filled with footmen, and chariots and the flashing of bronze. But Zeus who hurls the thunderbolt cast an evil panic upon my comrades, and none had the courage to hold his ground and face the foe; for evil surrounded us on every side. So then they slew many of us with the sharp bronze, and others they led up to their city alive, to work for them perforce. But in my heart Zeus himself put this thought—I would that I had rather died and met my fate there in Egypt, for still was sorrow to give me welcome. Straightway I put off from my head my well-wrought helmet, and the shield from off my shoulders, and let the spear fall from my hand, and went toward the chariot horses of the king. I clasped, and kissed his knees, and he delivered me, and took pity on me, and, setting me in his chariot, took me weeping to his home. Verily full many rushed upon me with their ashen spears, eager to slay me, for they were exceeding angry. But he warded them off, and had regard for the wrath of Zeus, the stranger's god, who above all others hath indignation at evil deeds. “There then I stayed seven years, and much wealth did I gather among the Egyptians, for all men gave me gifts. But when the eighth circling year was come, then there came a man of Phoenicia, well versed in guile, a greedy knave, who had already wrought much evil among men. He prevailed upon me by his cunning, and took me with him, until we reached Phoenicia, where lay his house and his possessions. There I remained with him for a full year. But when at length the months and the days were being brought to fulfillment, as the year rolled round and the seasons came on, he set me on a seafaring ship bound for Libya, having given lying counsel to the end that I should convey a cargo with him, but in truth that, when there, he might sell me and get a vast price. So I went with him on board the ship, suspecting his guile, yet perforce. And she ran before the North Wind, blowing fresh and fair, on a mid-sea course to the windward of Crete, and Zeus devised destruction for the men. But when we had left Crete, and no other land appeared, but only sky and sea, then verily the son of Cronos set a black cloud above the hollow ship, and the sea grew dark beneath it. Therewith Zeus thundered, and hurled his bolt upon the ship, and she quivered from stem to stern, smitten by the bolt of Zeus, and was filled with sulphurous smoke, and all the crew fell from out the ship. Like sea-crows they were borne on the waves about the black ship, and the god took from them their returning. But as for me, Zeus himself when my heart was compassed with woe, put into my hands the tossing1 mast of the dark-prowed ship, that I might again escape destruction. Around this I clung, and was borne by the direful winds. For nine days I was borne, but on the tenth black night the great rolling wave brought me to the land of the Thesprotians. There the king of the Thesprotians, lord Pheidon, took me in, and asked no ransom, for his dear son came upon me, overcome as I was with cold and weariness, and raised me by the hand, and led me until he came to his father's palace; and he clothed me in a cloak and tunic, as raiment. verily unto the tenth generation would it feed his children after him, so great was the wealth that lay stored for him in the halls of the king. But Odysseus, he said, had gone to Dodona, to hear the will of Zeus from the high-crested oak of the god, even how he might return to the rich land of Ithaca after so long an absence, whether openly or in secret. And moreover he swore in my own presence, as he poured libations in his house, that the ship was launched, and the men ready, who were to convey him to his dear native land. But me he sent forth first, for a ship of the Thesprotians chanced to be setting out for Dulichium, rich in wheat. Thither he bade them to convey me with kindly care, to king Acastus. But an evil counsel regarding me found favour in their hearts, that I might even yet be brought into utter misery. When the sea-faring ship had sailed far from the land, they presently sought to bring about for me the day of slavery. They stripped me of my garments, my cloak and tunic, and clothed me in other raiment, a vile ragged cloak and tunic, even the tattered garments which thou seest before thine eyes; and at evening they reached the tilled fields of clear-seen Ithaca. Then with a twisted rope they bound me fast in the benched ship, and themselves went ashore, and made haste to take their supper by the shore of the sea. But as for me, the gods themselves undid my bonds full easily, and, wrapping the tattered cloak about my head, I slid down the smooth lading-plank,1 and brought my breast to the sea, and then struck out with both hands, and swam, and very soon was out of the water, and away from them. Then I went up to a place where there was a thicket of leafy wood, and lay there crouching. And they went hither and thither with loud cries; but as there seemed to be no profit in going further in their search, they went back again on board their hollow ship. And the gods themselves hid me easily, and led me, and brought me to the farmstead of a wise man; for still haply it is my lot to live.”

If thy master returns to this house, clothe me in a cloak and tunic, as raiment, and send me on my way to Dulichium, where I desire to be. But if thy master does not come as I say, set the slaves upon me, and fling me down from a great cliff, that another beggar may beware of deceiving.”

“Eumaeus, mayest thou be as dear to father Zeus as thou art to me, since thou honourest me with a good portion, albeit I am in such plight.” To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, didst thou make answer, and say: “Eat, unhappy stranger, and have joy of such fare as is here. It is the god that will give one thing and withhold another,

and laughing softly, and makes him stand up and dance, aye, and brings forth a word which were better unspoken. Still, since I have once spoken out, I will hide nothing. Would that I were young and my strength firm as when we made ready our ambush, and led it beneath the walls of Troy. The leaders were Odysseus and Menelaus, son of Atreus, and with them I was third in command; for so had they ordered it themselves. Now when we had come to the city and the steep wall, round about the town in the thick brushwood among the needs and swamp-land we lay, crouching beneath our arms, and night came on, foul, when the North Wind had fallen, and frosty, and snow came down on us from above, covering us like rime, bitter cold, and ice formed upon our shields. Now all the rest had cloaks and tunics, and slept in peace, with their shields covering their shoulders, but I, when I set out, had left my cloak behind with my comrades in my folly, for I did not think that even so I should be cold, and had come with my shield alone and my bright kilt. But when it was the third watch of the night, and the stars had turned their course, then I spoke to Odysseus, who was near me, nudging him with my elbow; and he straightway gave ear: “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, lo now, no longer shall I be among the living. Nay, the cold is killing me, for I have no cloak. Some god beguiled me to wear my tunic only, and now there is no more escape.’ “So I spoke, and he then devised this plan in his heart, such a man was he both to plan and to fight; and speaking in a low voice he said to me: ‘Be silent now, lest another of the Achaeans hear thee.’ ‘Hear me, friends; a dream from the gods came to me in my sleep. Lo, we have come very far from the ships, and I would that there were one to bear word to Agamemnon, son of Atreus, shepherd of the host, in the hope that he might bid more men to come from the ships.’ “So he spoke, and Thoas, son of Andraemon, sprang up quickly, and from him flung his purple cloak, and set out to run to the ships. Then in his garment I gladly lay, and golden-throned Dawn appeared. Would that I were young as then, and my strength as firm; then would one of the swineherds in the farmstead give me a cloak both from kindness and from respect for a brave warrior. But as it is they scorn me, since I have foul raiment about me.” To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, didst thou make answer, and say: “Old man, the tale thou hast told is a good one, nor hast thou thus far spoken aught amiss or unprofitably.

but through the city will I wander by myself perforce, in the hope that one haply will give me a cup of water and a loaf. Aye, and I would go to the house of godlike Odysseus and bear tidings to the wise Penelope, and join the company of the insolent wooers, if perchance they may give me a meal, since they have good cheer in abundance. Straightway might I do good service among them in all that they would. For I will tell thee, and do thou give heed and hearken. By the favour of Hermes, the messenger, who lends grace and glory to all men's work, in the business of serving no man beside can vie with me, in piling well a fire, in splitting dry faggots, in carving and roasting meat, and in pouring wine —in all things in which meaner men serve the noble.”

men endure evil woes, when wandering and sorrow and pain come upon them. But now, since thou keepest me here and biddest me await thy master, come, tell me of the mother of godlike Odysseus, and of the father, whom, when he went forth, he left behind him on the threshold of old age. Are they haply still living beneath the rays of the sun? or are they now dead and in the house of Hades?” Then the swineherd, a leader of men, answered him: “Then verily, stranger, will I frankly tell thee. Laertes still lives, but ever prays to Zeus that his life may waste away from his limbs within his halls.

wherein thy father and honored mother dwelt? Or, when thou wast alone with thy sheep or cattle, did foemen take thee in their ships and bear thee for sale to the house of this thy master, who paid for thee a goodly price?” Then the swineherd, a leader of men, answered him:

a kindly man, who gives thee food and drink, and that with kindness, and thou livest well; while as for me, it is while wandering through the many cities of men that I am come hither.”

but fawn about him, and I hear the sound of footsteps.” Not yet was the word fully uttered, when his own dear son stood in the doorway. In amazement up sprang the swineherd, and from his hands the vessels fell with which he was busied as he mixed the flaming wine. And he went to meet his lord,

Tell me, art thou willingly thus oppressed? Or do the people throughout the land hate thee, following the voice of a god? Or hast thou cause to blame thy brothers, in whose fighting a man trusts even if a great strife arise. Would that with my present temper I were as young as thou, either the son of blameless Odysseus, or Odysseus himself,1 straightway then might some stranger cut my head from off my neck, if I did not prove myself the bane of them all when I had come to the halls of Odysseus, son of Laertes. But if they should overwhelm me by their numbers, alone as I was, far rather would I die, slain in my own halls, than behold continually these shameful deeds, strangers mishandled, and men dragging the handmaidens in shameful fashion through the fair halls, and wine drawn to waste, and men devouring my bread all heedlessly, without limit, with no end to the business.” And wise Telemachus answered him: “Then verily, stranger, I will frankly tell thee all. Neither do the people at large bear me any grudge or hatred,

For I am no more of an age to remain at the farmstead, so as to obey in all things the command of an overseer. Nay, go thy way; this man that thou biddest will lead me as soon as I have warmed myself at the fire, and the sun has grown hot. For miserably poor are these garments which I wear, and I fear lest the morning frost may overcome me; and ye say it is far to the city.” So he spoke, and Telemachus passed out through the farmstead with rapid strides, and was sowing the seeds of evil for the wooers. But when he came to the stately house he set his spear in place, leaning it against a tall pillar,

But give me a staff to lean upon, if thou hast one cut anywhere, for verily ye said that the way was treacherous.” He spoke, and flung about his shoulders his miserable wallet, full of holes, slung by a twisted cord, and Eumaeus gave him a staff to his liking.

Easily might it be known, though seen among many. There is building upon building, and the court is built with wall and coping, and the double gates are well-fenced; no man may scorn it. And I mark that in the house itself many men are feasting: for the savour of meat arises from it, and therewith resounds the voice of the lyre, which the gods have made the companion of the feast.” To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, didst thou make answer, and say: “Easily hast thou marked it, for in all things thou art ready of wit. But come, let us take thought how these things shall be.

amid the waves and in war; let this too be added to what has gone before. But a ravening belly may no man hide, an accursed plague that brings many evils upon men. Because of it are the benched ships also made ready, that bear evil to foemen over the unresting sea.”

are, which their masters keep for show.” To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, didst thou make answer and say: “Aye, verily this is the hound of a man that has died in a far land. If he were but in form and in action such as he was when Odysseus left him and went to Troy,

and may have all that his heart desires.” He spoke, and took the mess in both his hands and set it down there before his feet on his miserable wallet. Then he ate so long as the minstrel sang in the halls. But when he had dined and the divine minstrel was ceasing to sing,

“Friend, give me some gift; thou seemest not in my eyes to be the basest of the Achaeans, but rather the noblest, for thou art like a king. Therefore it is meet that thou shouldest give even a better portion of bread than the rest; so would I make thy fame known all over the boundless earth. For I too once dwelt in a house of my own among men, a rich man in a wealthy house, and full often I gave gifts to a wanderer, whosoever he was and with whatsoever need he came. Slaves too I had past counting, and all other things in abundance whereby men live well and are reputed wealthy. who sent me forth with roaming pirates to go to Egypt, a far voyage, that I might meet my ruin; and in the river Aegyptus I moored my curved ships. Then verily I bade my trusty comrades to remain there by the ships and to guard the ships, and I sent out scouts to go to places of outlook. But my comrades, yielding to wantonness and led on by their own might, straightway set about wasting the fair fields of the men of Egypt; and they carried off the women and little children, and slew the men; and the cry came quickly to the city. Then, hearing the shouting, the people came forth at break of day, and the whole plain was filled with footmen and chariots and the flashing of bronze. And Zeus, who hurls the thunderbolt, cast an evil panic upon my comrades, and none had courage to take his stand and face the foe; for evil surrounded us on every side. So then they slew many of us with the sharp bronze, and others they led up to their city alive, to work for them perforce. But they gave me to a friend who met them to take to Cyprus, even to Dmetor, son of Iasus, who ruled mightily over Cyprus; and from thence am I now come hither, sore distressed.”

Thou wouldest not out of thine own substance give even a grain of salt to thy suppliant, thou who now, when sitting at another's table, hadst not the heart to take of the bread and give me aught. Yet here lies plenty at thy hand.” So he spoke, and Antinous waxed the more wroth at heart, and with an angry glance from beneath his brows spoke to him winged words:

Verily there is no pain of heart nor any grief when a man is smitten while fighting for his own possessions, whether for his cattle or for his white sheep; but Antinous has smitten me for my wretched belly's sake, an accursed plague that brings many evils upon men. Ah, if for beggars there are gods and avengers, may the doom of death come upon Antinous before his marriage.” Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him: “Sit still, and eat, stranger, or go elsewhere; lest the young men drag thee

whose wantonness and violence reach the iron heaven. For even now, when, as I was going through the hall doing no evil, this man struck me and hurt me, neither Telemachus nor any other did aught to ward off the blow. Wherefore now bid Penelope to wait in the halls, eager though she be, till set of sun; and then let her ask me of her husband regarding the day of his return, giving me a seat nearer the fire, for lo, the raiment that I wear is mean, and this thou knowest of thyself, for to thee first did I make my prayer.” So he spoke, and the swineherd went when he had heard this saying.

“Good fellow, I harm thee not in deed or word, nor do I begrudge that any man should give thee, though the portion he took up were a large one. This threshold will hold us both, and thou hast no need to be jealous for the goods of other folk. Thou seemest to me to be a vagrant, even as I am; and as for happy fortune, it is the gods that are like to give us that.1 But with thy fists do not provoke me overmuch, lest thou anger me, and, old man though I am, I befoul thy breast and lips with blood. So should I have the greater peace tomorrow, for I deem not that thou shalt return a second time to the hall of Odysseus, son of Laertes.”

But come now, do you all swear to me a mighty oath, to the end that no man, doing a favour to Irus, may deal me a foul blow with heavy hand, and so by violence subdue me to this fellow.” So he spoke, and they all gave the oath not to smite him, even as he bade. But when they had sworn and made an end of the oath,

“Sit there now, and scare off swine and dogs, and do not thou be lord of strangers and beggars, miserable that thou art, lest haply thou meet with some worse thing to profit withal.” He spoke, and flung about his shoulders his miserable wallet, full of holes, and slung by a twisted cord.

“Amphinomus, verily thou seemest to me to be a man of prudence; and such a man, too, was thy father, for I have heard of his fair fame, that Nisus of Dulichium was a brave man and a wealthy. From him, they say, thou art sprung, and thou seemest a man soft of speech. Wherefore I will tell thee, and do thou give heed and hearken. Nothing feebler does earth nurture than man, of all things that on earth are breathing and moving. For he thinks that he will never suffer evil in time to come, so long as the gods give him prosperity and his knees are quick; but when again the blessed gods decree him sorrow, this too he bears in sore despite with steadfast heart; for the spirit of men upon the earth is even such as the day which the father of gods and men brings upon them. For I, too, was once like to be prosperous among men, but many deeds of wantonness I wrought, yielding to my might and my strength, and trusting in my father and my brethren. Wherefore let no man soever be lawless at any time, but let him keep in silence whatever gifts the gods give. Aye, for I see the wooers devising wantonness, wasting the wealth and dishonoring the wife of a man who, I tell thee, will not long be away from his friends and his native land; nay, he is very near. But may some god lead thee forth hence to thy home, and mayest thou not meet him when he comes home to his dear native land. For not without bloodshed, methinks, will the wooers and he part one from the other when once he comes beneath his roof.” So he spoke, and pouring a libation, drank of the honey-sweet wine, and then gave back the cup into the hands of the marshaller of the people. But Amphinomus went through the hall with a heavy heart, bowing his head; for his spirit boded bane.

and twist the yarn by her side, and make glad her heart, as you sit in the chamber, or card the wool with your hands; but I will give light to all these men. For if they wish to wait for fair-throned Dawn, they shall in no wise outdo me. I am one that can endure much.”

and that the grass might be in plenty that so we might test our work, fasting till late evening. Or I would again that there were oxen to drive—the best there are, tawny and large, both well fed with grass, of like age and like power to bear the yoke, tireless in strength—and that there were a field of four acres, and the soil should yield before the plough: then shouldest thou see me, whether or no I could cut a straight furrow to the end. Or I would again that this day the son of Cronos might bring war upon us from whence he would, and I had a shield and two spears and a helmet all of bronze, that fitted well my temples: then shouldest thou see me mingling amid the foremost fighters, and wouldest not prate, taunting me with this belly of mine. But right insolent art thou, and thy heart is cruel, and forsooth thou thinkest thyself to be some great man and mighty, because thou consortest with few men and weak. If but Odysseus might return, and come to his native land, soon would yonder doors, right wide though they are, prove all too narrow for thee in thy flight out through the doorway.” So he spoke, and Eurymachus waxed the more wroth at heart, and with an angry glance from beneath his brows spoke to him winged words: “Wretch, presently will I work thee evil, that thou pratest thus,

that I may stir yet more the minds of the maids and of thy mother; and she with weeping shall ask me of each thing separately.”

For I too once dwelt in a house of my own among men, a rich man in a wealthy house, and full often I gave gifts to a wanderer, whosoever he was and with whatsoever need he came. Slaves too I had past counting and all other things in abundance whereby men live well and are reputed wealthy. But Zeus, son of Cronos, brought all to naught; so, I ween, was his good pleasure. Wherefore, woman, beware lest thou too some day lose all the glory whereby thou now hast excellence among the handmaids; lest perchance thy mistress wax wroth and be angry with thee, or Odysseus come home; for there is yet room for hope. But if, even as it seems, he is dead, and is no more to return, yet now is his son by the favour of Apollo such as he was—even Telemachus. Him it escapes not if any of the women in the halls work wantonness; for he is no longer the child he was.”

is lord over many mighty men, upholding justice; and the black earth bears wheat and barley, and the trees are laden with fruit, the flocks bring forth young unceasingly, and the sea yields fish, all from his good leading; and the people prosper under him. Wherefore question me now in thy house of all things else, but ask not concerning my race and my native land, lest thou fill my heart the more with pains, as I think thereon; for I am a man of many sorrows. Moreover it is not fitting that I should sit weeping and wailing in another's house, for it is ill to grieve ever without ceasing. I would not that one of thy maidens or thine own self be vexed with me, and say that I swim in tears because my mind is heavy with wine.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Stranger, all excellence of mine, both of beauty and of form,

“Honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, wilt thou never cease to ask me of my lineage? Well, I will tell thee; though verily thou wilt give me over to pains yet more than those by which I am now held in thrall; for so it ever is, when a man has been far from his country as long as I have now, wandering through the many cities of men in sore distress. Yet even so will I tell thee what thou dost ask and enquire. There is a land called Crete, in the midst of the wine-dark sea, a fair, rich land, begirt with water, and therein are many men, past counting, and ninety cities. They have not all the same speech, but their tongues are mixed. There dwell Achaeans, there great-hearted native Cretans, there Cydonians, and Dorians of waving plumes, and goodly Pelasgians. Among their cities is the great city Cnosus, where Minos reigned when nine years old,2 he that held converse with great Zeus, and was father of my father, great-hearted Deucalion. Now Deucalion begat me and prince Idomeneus. Idomeneus had gone forth in his beaked ships to Ilios with the sons of Atreus; but my famous name is Aethon; I was the younger by birth, while he was the elder and the better man. There it was that I saw Odysseus and gave him gifts of entertainment; for the force of the wind had brought him too to Crete, as he was making for the land of Troy, and drove him out of his course past Malea. So he anchored his ships at Amnisus, where is the cave of Eilithyia, in a difficult harbor, and hardly did he escape the storm. Then straightway he went up to the city and asked for Idomeneus; for he declared that he was his friend, beloved and honored. But it was now the tenth or the eleventh dawn since Idomeneus had gone in his beaked ships to Ilios. So I took him to the house, and gave him entertainment with kindly welcome of the rich store that was in the house, and to the rest of his comrades who followed with him I gathered and gave out of the public store barley meal and flaming wine and bulls for sacrifice, that their hearts might be satisfied. There for twelve days the goodly Achaeans tarried, for the strong North Wind penned them there, and would not suffer them to stand upon their feet on the land, for some angry god had roused it. But on the thirteenth day the wind fell and they put to sea.” He spoke, and made the many falsehoods of his tale seem like the truth,1 and as she listened her tears flowed and her face melted

A fleecy cloak of purple did goodly Odysseus wear, a cloak of double fold, but the brooch upon it was fashioned of gold with double clasps, and on the front it was curiously wrought: a hound held in his fore paws a dappled fawn, and pinned it1 in his jaws as it writhed. And at this all men marvelled, how, though they were of gold, the hound was pinning the fawn and strangling it, and the fawn was writhing with its feet and striving to flee. And I noted the tunic about his body, all shining as is the sheen upon the skin of a dried onion, so soft it was; and it glistened like the sun. Verily many women gazed at him in wonder. And another thing will I tell thee, and do thou lay it to heart. I know not whether Odysseus was thus clothed at home, or whether one of his comrades gave him the raiment when he went on board the swift ship, or haply even some stranger, since to many men was Odysseus dear, for few of the Achaeans were his peers. attended him, a little older than he, and I will tell thee of him too, what manner of man he was. He was round-shouldered, dark of skin, and curly-haired, and his name was Eurybates; and Odysseus honored him above his other comrades, because he was like-minded with himself.” So he spoke, and in her heart aroused yet more the desire of weeping,

for any woman weeps when she has lost her wedded husband, to whom she has borne children in her love, though he were far other than Odysseus, who, they say, is like unto the gods. Yet do thou cease from weeping, and hearken to my words; for I will tell thee with sure truth, and will hide nothing, how but lately I heard of the return of Odysseus, that he is near at hand in the rich land of the Thesprotians, and yet alive, and he is bringing with him many rich treasures, as he begs through the land. But he lost his trusty comrades and his hollow ship on the wine-dark sea, as he journeyed from the isle Thrinacia; for Zeus and Helios waxed wroth against him because his comrades had slain the kine of Helios. These heartily showed him all honor, as if he were a god, and gave him many gifts, and were fain themselves to send him home unscathed. Yea, and Odysseus would long since have been here, only it seemed to his mind more profitable to gather wealth by roaming over the wide earth; so truly does Odysseus beyond all mortal men know many gainful ways, nor could any mortal beside vie with him. Thus Pheidon, king of the Thesprotians, told me the tale. Moreover he swore in my own presence, as he poured libations in his halls, that the ship was launched and the men ready who were to convey him to his dear native land. But me he sent forth first, for a ship of the Thesprotians chanced to be setting out for Dulichium, rich in wheat. And he showed me all the treasure that Odysseus had gathered; verily unto the tenth generation would it feed his children after him, so great was the wealth that lay stored for him in the halls of the king. But Odysseus, he said, had gone to Dodona to hear the will of Zeus from the high-crested oak of the god, even how he might return to his dear native land after so long an absence, whether openly or in secret. “Thus, as I tell thee, he is safe, and will presently come; he is very near, and not long will he now be far from his friends and his native land. Yet will I give thee an oath. Be Zeus my witness first, highest and best of gods, and the hearth of noble Odysseus to which I am come, that verily all these things shall be brought to pass even as I tell thee. In the course of this very month shall Odysseus come hither, as the old moon wanes and the new appears.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Ah, stranger, I would that this word of thine might be fulfilled.

Nay, I will lie, as in time past I was wont to rest through sleepless nights; for many a night have I lain upon a foul bed and waited for the bright-throned Dawn. Aye, and baths for the feet give my heart no pleasure, nor shall any woman touch my foot of all those who are serving-women in thy hall, unless there is some old, true-hearted dame who has suffered in her heart as many woes as I; such an one I would not grudge to touch my feet.” Then wise Penelope answered him again:

we are very like each other, even as thou thyself dost note and say.” So he spoke, and the old dame took the shining cauldron with water wherefrom she was about to wash his feet, and poured in cold water in plenty, and then added thereto the warm. But Odysseus sat him down away from the hearth and straightway turned himself toward the darkness,

But since thou hast found me out, and a god has put this in thy heart, be silent lest any other in the halls learn hereof. For thus will I speak out to thee, and verily it shall be brought to pass: if a god shall subdue the lordly wooers unto me, I will not spare thee, my nurse though thou art, when I slay the other serving-women in my halls.” Then wise Eurycleia answered him: “My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of thy teeth! Thou knowest how firm my spirit is and unyielding: I shall be as close as hard stone or iron.

“Mother, why, pray, wilt thou speak of them? Thou needest not at all. Of myself will I mark them well, and come to know each one. Nay, keep the matter to thyself, and leave the issue to the gods.” So he spoke, and the old woman went forth through the hall to bring water for his feet, for all the first was spilled.

“Lady, in no wise is it possible to wrest this dream aside and give it another meaning, since verily Odysseus himself has shewn thee how he will bring it to pass. For the wooers' destruction is plain to see, for one and all; not one of them shall escape death and the fates.” Then wise Penelope answered him again:

for, I tell thee, Odysseus of many wiles will be here, ere these men, handling this polished bow, shall have strung it, and shot an arrow through the iron.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “If thou couldest but wish, stranger, to sit here in my halls

mighty comrades; but thou didst endure until craft got thee forth from the cave where thou thoughtest to die.” So he spoke, chiding the heart in his breast, and his heart remained bound1 within him to endure steadfastly; but he himself lay tossing this way and that.

all alone as I am, while they remain always in a body in the house. And furthermore this other and harder thing I ponder in my mind: even if I were to slay them by the will of Zeus and of thyself, where then should I find escape from bane? Of this I bid thee take thought.”

let some one of those who are awaking utter a word of omen for me within, and without let a sign from Zeus be shown besides.” So he spoke in prayer, and Zeus the counsellor heard him. Straightway he thundered from gleaming Olympus, from on high from out the clouds; and goodly Odysseus was glad.

wherewith these men in wantonness devise wicked folly in another's house, and have no place for shame.” Thus they spoke to one another. And near to them came Melanthius the goatherd, leading she-goats that were the best in all the herds,

Now be my witness Zeus above all gods, and this hospitable board, and the hearth of noble Odysseus to which I am come, that verily while thou art here Odysseus shall come home, and thou shalt see with thine eyes, if thou wilt, the slaying of the wooers, who lord it here.”

What manner of men would you be to defend Odysseus, if he should come from somewhere thus suddenly, and some god should bring him? Would you bear aid to the wooers or to Odysseus? Speak out as your heart and spirit bid you.” Then the herdsmen of the cattle answered him:

alone of all my thralls is my coming desired, but of the rest have I heard not one praying that I might come back again to my home. But to you two will I tell the truth, even as it shall be. If a god shall subdue the lordly wooers unto me, I will bring you each a wife, and will give you possessions and a house built near my own, and thereafter you two shall be in my eyes friends and brothers of Telemachus. Nay, come, more than this, I will shew you also a manifest sign, that you may know me well and be assured in heart, even the scar of the wound which long ago a boar dealt me with his white tusk,

But go within one after another, not all together, I first and you thereafter, and let this be made a sign. All the rest, as many as are lordly wooers, will not suffer the bow and the quiver to be given to me; but do thou, goodly Eumaeus, as thou bearest the bow through the halls, place it in my hands, and bid the women bar the close-fitting doors of their hall. And if any one of them hears groanings or the din of men within our walls, let them not rush out, but remain where they are in silence at their work. But to thee, goodly Philoetius, do I give charge to fasten with a bar the gate of the court, and swiftly to cast a cord upon it.” So saying, he entered the stately house, and went and sat down on the seat from which he had risen. And the two slaves of divine Odysseus went in as well.

“Hear me, wooers of the glorious queen, that I may say what the heart in my breast bids me. To Eurymachus most of all do I make my prayer, and to godlike Antinous, since this word also of his was spoken aright, namely that for the present you cease to try the bow, and leave the issue with the gods; and in the morning the god will give the victory to whomsoever he will. But come, give me the polished bow, that in your midst I may prove my hands and strength, whether I have yet might such as was of old in my supple limbs, or whether by now my wanderings and lack of food have destroyed it.”

that sits in thy halls brings no shame upon thee, nor in any wise did I miss the mark, or labour long in stringing the bow; still is my strength unbroken—not as the wooers scornfully taunt me. But now it is time that supper too be made ready for the Achaeans, while yet there is light, and thereafter must yet other sport be made with song and with the lyre; for these things are the accompaniments of a feast.” He spoke, and made a sign with his brows, and Telemachus, the dear son of divine Odysseus, girt about him his sharp sword, and took his spear in his grasp, and stood by the chair at his father's side, armed with gleaming bronze.

“Lo, now at last is this decisive contest ended; and now as for another mark, which till now no man has ever smitten, I will know1 if haply I may strike it, and Apollo grant me glory.” He spoke, and aimed a bitter arrow at Antinous. Now he was on the point of raising to his lips a fair goblet,