BOOK XV.

Pallas sends home Telemachus from Lacedaemon with the presents given

him by Menelaus. Telemachus landed, goes first to Eumaeus.

Now Pallas Athene went to the wide land of Lacedaemon, to put the noble

son of the great-hearted Odysseus in mind of his return, and to make

him hasten his coming. And she found Telemachus, and the glorious son

of Nestor, couched at the vestibule of the house of famous Menelaus.

The son of Nestor truly was overcome with soft sleep, but sweet sleep

gat not hold of Telemachus, but, through the night divine, careful

thoughts for his father kept him wakeful. And grey-eyed Athene stood

nigh him and spake to him, saying:

“Telemachus, it is no longer meet that thou shouldest wander far from

thy home, leaving thy substance behind thee, and men in thy house so

wanton, lest they divide and utterly devour all thy wealth, and thou

shalt have gone on a vain journey. But come, rouse with all haste

Menelaus, of the loud war-cry, to send thee on thy way, that thou

mayest even yet find thy noble mother in her home. For even now her

father and her brethren bid her wed Eurymachus, for he outdoes all the

wooers in his presents, and hath been greatly increasing his gifts of

wooing. So shall she take no treasure from thy house despite thy will.

Thou knowest of what sort is the heart of a woman within her; all her

desire is to increase the house of the man who takes her to wife, but

of her former children and of her own dear lord she has no more memory

once he is dead, and she asks concerning him no more. Go then, and

thyself place all thy substance in the care of the handmaid who seems

to thee the best, till the day when the gods shall show thee a glorious

bride. Now another word will I tell thee, and do thou lay it up in

thine heart. The noblest of the wooers lie in wait for thee of purpose,

in the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos, eager to slay thee

before thou come to thine own country. But this, methinks, will never

be; yea, sooner shall the earth close over certain of the wooers that

devour thy livelihood. Nay, keep thy well-wrought ship far from those

isles, and sail by night as well as day, and he of the immortals who

hath thee in his keeping and protection will send thee a fair breeze in

thy wake. But when thou hast touched the nearest shore of Ithaca, send

thy ship and all thy company forward to the city, but for thy part seek

first the swineherd who keeps thy swine, loyal and at one with thee.

There do thou rest the night, and bid him go to the city to bear

tidings of thy coming to the wise Penelope, how that she hath got thee

safe, and thou art come up out of Pylos.”

Therewith she departed to high Olympus. But Telemachus woke the son of

Nestor out of sweet sleep, touching him with his heel, and spake to

him, saying:

“Awake, Peisistratus, son of Nestor, bring up thy horses of solid hoof,

and yoke them beneath the car, that we may get forward on the road.”

Then Peisistratus, son of Nestor, answered him, saying: “Telemachus, we

may in no wise drive through the dark night, how eager soever to be

gone; nay, soon it will be dawn. Tarry then, till the hero, the son of

Atreus, spear-famed Menelaus, brings gifts, and sets them on the car,

and bespeaks thee kindly, and sends thee on thy way. For of him a guest

is mindful all the days of his life, even of the host that shows him

loving-kindness.”

So spake he, and anon came the golden-throned Dawn. And Menelaus, of

the loud war cry, drew nigh to them, new risen from his bed, by

fair-haired Helen. Now when the dear son of Odysseus marked him, he

made haste and girt his shining doublet about him, and the hero cast a

great mantle over his mighty shoulders, and went forth at the door, and

Telemachus, dear son of divine Odysseus, came up and spake to Menelaus,

saying:

“Menelaus, son of Atreus, fosterling of Zeus, leader of the people,

even now do thou speed me hence, to mine own dear country; for even now

my heart is fain to come home again.”

Then Menelaus, of the loud war cry, answered him: “Telemachus, as for

me, I will not hold thee a long time here, that art eager to return;

nay, I think it shame even in another host, who loves overmuch or hates

overmuch. Measure is best in all things. He does equal wrong who speeds

a guest that would fain abide, and stays one who is in haste to be

gone. Men should lovingly entreat the present guest and speed the

parting. But abide till I bring fair gifts and set them on the car and

thine own eyes behold them, and I bid the women to prepare the midday

meal in the halls, out of the good store they have within. Honour and

glory it is for us, and gain withal for thee, that ye should have eaten

well ere ye go on your way, over vast and limitless lands. What and if

thou art minded to pass through Hellas and mid Argos? So shall I too go

with thee, and yoke thee horses and lead thee to the towns of men, and

none shall send us empty away, but will give us some one thing to take

with us, either a tripod of goodly bronze or a cauldron, or two mules

or a golden chalice.”

Then wise Telemachus answered him saying: “Menelaus, son of Atreus,

fosterling of Zeus, leader of the people, rather would I return even

now to mine own land, for I left none behind to watch over my goods

when I departed. I would not that I myself should perish on the quest

of my godlike father, nor that any good heir-loom should be lost from

my halls.”

Now when Menelaus, of the loud war cry, heard this saying, straightway

he bade his wife and maids to prepare the midday meal in the halls, out

of the good store they had by them. Then Eteoneus, son of Boethous,

came nigh him, just risen from his bed, for he abode not far from him.

Him Menelaus of the loud war cry bade kindle the fire and roast of the

flesh; and he hearkened and obeyed. Then the prince went down into the

fragrant treasure chamber, not alone, for Helen went with him, and

Megapenthes. Now, when they came to the place where the treasures were

stored, then Atrides took a two-handled cup, and bade his son

Megapenthes to bear a mixing bowl of silver. And Helen stood by the

coffers, wherein were her robes of curious needlework which she herself

had wrought. Then Helen, the fair lady, lifted one and brought it out,

the widest and most beautifully embroidered of all, and it shone like a

star, and lay far beneath the rest.

Then they went forth through the house till they came to Telemachus;

and Menelaus, of the fair hair, spake to him saying:

“Telemachus, may Zeus the thunderer, and the lord of Here, in very

truth bring about thy return according to the desire of thy heart. And

of the gifts, such as are treasures stored in my house, I will give

thee the goodliest and greatest of price. I will give thee a mixing

bowl beautifully wrought; it is all of silver and the lips thereof are

finished with gold, the work of Hephaestus; and the hero Phaedimus the

king of the Sidonians, gave it to me when his house sheltered me, on my

coming thither. This cup I would give to thee.”

Therewith the hero Atrides set the two-handled cup in his hands. And

the strong Megapenthes bare the shining silver bowl and set it before

him. And Helen came up, beautiful Helen, with the robe in her hands,

and spake and hailed him:

“Lo! I too give thee this gift, dear child, a memorial of the hands of

Helen, against the day of thy desire, even of thy bridal, for thy bride

to wear it. But meanwhile let it lie by thy dear mother in her chamber.

And may joy go with thee to thy well-builded house, and thine own

country.”

With that she put it into his hands, and he took it and was glad. And

the hero Peisistratus took the gifts and laid them in the chest of the

car, and gazed on all and wondered. Then Menelaus of the fair hair led

them to the house. Then they twain sat them down on chairs and high

seats, and a handmaid bare water for the hands in a goodly golden ewer,

and poured it forth over a silver basin to wash withal, and drew to

their side a polished table. And a grave dame bare wheaten bread and

set it by them, and laid on the board many dainties, giving freely of

such things as she had by her. And the son of Boethous carved by the

board and divided the messes, and the son of renowned Menelaus poured

forth the wine. So they stretched forth their hands upon the good cheer

set before them. Now when they had put from them the desire of meat and

drink, then did Telemachus and the glorious son of Nestor yoke the

horses and climb into the inlaid car. And they drave forth from the

gateway and the echoing gallery. After these Menelaus, of the fair

hair, the son of Atreus, went forth bearing in his right hand a golden

cup of honey-hearted wine, that they might pour a drink-offering ere

they departed. And he stood before the horses and spake his greeting:

“Farewell, knightly youths, and salute in my name Nestor, the shepherd

of the people; for truly he was gentle to me as a father, while we sons

of the Achaeans warred in the land of Troy.”

And wise Telemachus answered him, saying: “Yea verily, O fosterling of

Zeus, we will tell him all on our coming even as thou sayest. Would God

that when I return to Ithaca I may find Odysseus in his home and tell

him all, so surely as now I go on my way having met with all

loving-kindness at thy hands, and take with me treasures many and

goodly!”

And even as he spake a bird flew forth at his right hand, an eagle that

bare in his claws a great white goose, a tame fowl from the yard, and

men and women followed shouting. But the bird drew near them and flew

off to the right, across the horses, and they that saw it were glad,

and their hearts were all comforted within them. And Peisistratus, son

of Nestor, first spake among them:

“Consider, Menelaus, fosterling of Zeus, leader of the people, whether

god hath showed forth this sign for us twain, or for thee thyself.”

So spake he, and the warrior Menelaus pondered thereupon, how he should

take heed to answer, and interpret it aright.

And long-robed Helen took the word and spake, saying: “Hear me, and I

will prophesy as the immortals put it into my heart, and as I deem it

will be accomplished. Even as yonder eagle came down from the hill, the

place of his birth and kin, and snatched away the goose that was

fostered in the house, even so shall Odysseus return home after much

trial and long wanderings and take vengeance; yea, or even now is he at

home and sowing the seeds of evil for all the wooers.”

Then wise Telemachus answered her, saying: “Now may Zeus ordain it so,

Zeus the thunderer and the lord of Here. Then would I do thee worship,

as to a god, even in my home afar.”

He spake and smote the horses with the lash, and they sped quickly

towards the plain, in eager course through the city. So all day long

they swayed the yoke they bore upon their necks. And the sun sank, and

all the ways were darkened. And they came to Pherae, to the house of

Diocles, son of Orsilochus, the child begotten of Alpheus. There they

rested for the night, and by them he set the entertainment of

strangers.

Now so soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, they yoked

the horses and mounted the inlaid car. And forth they drave from the

gateway and the echoing gallery. And he touched the horses with the

whip to start them, and the pair flew onward nothing loth. And soon

thereafter they reached the steep hold of Pylos. Then Telemachus spake

unto the son of Nestor, saying:

“Son of Nestor, in what wise mightest thou make me a promise and fulfil

my bidding? For we claim to be friends by reason of our fathers’

friendship from of old. Moreover we are equals in age, and this journey

shall turn to our greater love. Take me not hence past my ship, O

fosterling of Zeus, but leave me there, lest that old man keep me in

his house in my despite, out of his eager kindness, for I must go right

quickly home.”

So spake he, and the some of Nestor communed with his own heart how he

might make promise, and duly fulfil the same. So as he thought thereon,

in this wise it seemed to him best. He turned back his horses toward

the swift ship and the sea-banks, and took forth the fair gifts and set

them in the hinder part of the ship, the raiment and the gold which

Menelaus gave him. And he called to Telemachus and spake to him winged

words:

“Now climb the ship with all haste, and bid all thy company do

likewise, ere I reach home and bring the old man word. For well I know

in my mind and heart that, being so wilful of heart, he will not let

thee go, but he himself will come hither to bid thee to his house, and

methinks that he will not go back without thee; for very wroth will he

be despite thine excuse.”

Thus he spake, and drave the horses with the flowing manes back to the

town of the Pylians, and came quickly to the halls. And Telemachus

called to his companions and commanded them, saying:

“Set ye the gear in order, my friends, in the black ship, and let us

climb aboard that we may make way upon our course.”

So spake he, and they gave good heed and hearkened. Then straightway

they embarked and sat upon the benches.

Thus was he busy hereat and praying and making burnt-offering to

Athene, by the stern of the ship, when there drew nigh him one from a

far country, that had slain his man and was fleeing from out of Argos.

He was a soothsayer, and by his lineage he came of Melampus, who of old

time abode in Pylos, mother of flocks, a rich man and one that had an

exceeding goodly house among the Pylians, but afterward he had come to

the land of strangers, fleeing from his country and from Neleus, the

great-hearted, the proudest of living men, who kept all his goods for a

full year by force. All that time Melampus lay bound with hard bonds in

the halls of Phylacus, suffering strong pains for the sake of the

daughter of Neleus, and for the dread blindness of soul which the

goddess, the Erinnys of the dolorous stroke, had laid on him. Howsoever

he escaped his fate, and drave away the lowing kine from Phylace to

Pylos, and avenged the foul deed upon godlike Neleus, and brought the

maiden home to his own brother to wife. As for him, he went to a

country of other men, to Argos, the pastureland of horses; for there

truly it was ordained that he should dwell, bearing rule over many of

the Argives. There he wedded a wife, and builded him a lofty house, and

begat Antiphates and Mantius, two mighty sons. Now Antiphates begat

Oicles the great-hearted, and Oicles Amphiaraus, the rouser of the

host, whom Zeus, lord of the aegis, and Apollo loved with all manner of

love. Yet he reached not the threshold of old age, but died in Thebes

by reason of a woman’s gifts. And the sons born to him were Alcmaeon

and Amphilochus. But Mantius begat Polypheides and Cleitus; but it came

to pass that the golden-throned Dawn snatched away Cleitus for his very

beauty’s sake, that he might dwell with the Immortals.

And Apollo made the high-souled Polypheides a seer, far the chief of

human kind, Amphiaraus being now dead. He removed his dwelling to

Hypheresia, being angered with his father, and here he abode and

prophesied to all men.

This man’s son it was, Theoclymenus by name, that now drew nigh and

stood by Telemachus. And he found him pouring a drink-offering and

praying by the swift black ship, and uttering his voice he spake to him

winged words:

“Friend, since I find thee making burnt-offering in this place, I pray

thee, by thine offerings and by the god, and thereafter by thine own

head, and in the name of the men of thy company answer my question

truly and hide it not. Who art thou of the sons of men and whence?

Where is thy city, where are they that begat thee?”

And wise Telemachus answered him, saying: “Yea now, stranger, I will

plainly tell thee all. Of Ithaca am I by lineage, and my father is

Odysseus, if ever such an one there was, but now hath he perished by an

evil fate. Wherefore I have taken my company and a black ship, and have

gone forth to hear word of my father that has been long afar.”

Then godlike Theoclymenus spake to him again: “Even so I too have fled

from my country, for the manslaying of one of mine own kin. And many

brethren and kinsmen of the slain are in Argos, the pastureland of

horses, and rule mightily over the Achaeans. Wherefore now am I an

exile to shun death and black fate at their hands, for it is my doom

yet to wander among men. Now set me on board ship, since I supplicate

thee in my flight, lest they slay me utterly; for methinks they follow

hard after me.”

And wise Telemachus answered him, saying: “Surely I will not drive thee

away from our good ship, if thou art fain to come. Follow thou with us

then, and in Ithaca thou shalt be welcome to such things as we have.”

Therewith he took from him his spear of bronze, and laid it along the

deck of the curved ship, and himself too climbed the seafaring ship.

Then he sat him down in the stern and made Theoclymenus to sit beside

him; and his company loosed the hawsers. Then Telemachus called unto

his company, and bade them lay hands on the tackling, and speedily they

hearkened to his call. So they raised the mast of pine tree, and set it

in the hole of the cross plank and made it fast with forestays, and

hauled up the white sails with twisted ropes of ox-hide. And grey-eyed

Athene sent them a favouring breeze, rushing violently through the

clear sky that the ship might speedily finish her course over the salt

water of the sea. So they passed by Crouni and Chalcis, a land of fair

streams.

And the sun set and all the ways were darkened. And the vessel drew

nigh to Pheae, being sped before the breeze of Zeus, and then passed

goodly Elis where the Epeans bear rule. From thence he drave on again

to the Pointed Isles, pondering whether he should escape death or be

cut off.

Now Odysseus and the goodly swineherd were supping in the hut, and the

other men sat at meat with them. So when they had put from them the

desire of meat and drink, Odysseus spake among them, to prove the

swineherd, whether he would still entertain him diligently, and bid him

abide there in the steading or send him forward to the city:

“Listen now, Eumaeus, and all the others of the company. In the morning

I would fain be gone to the town to go a begging, that I be not ruinous

to thyself and thy fellows. Now advise me well, and lend me a good

guide by the way to lead me thither; and through the city will I wander

alone as needs I must, if perchance one may give me a cup of water and

a morsel of bread. Moreover I would go to the house of divine Odysseus

and bear tidings to the wise Penelope, and consort with the wanton

wooers, if haply they might grant me a meal out of the boundless store

that they have by them. Lightly might I do good service among them,

even all that they would. For lo! I will tell thee and do thou mark and

listen. By the favour of Hermes, the messenger, who gives grace and

glory to all men’s work, no mortal may vie with me in the business of a

serving-man, in piling well a fire, in cleaving dry faggots, and in

carving and roasting flesh and in pouring of wine, those offices

wherein meaner men serve their betters.”

Then didst thou speak to him in heaviness of heart, swineherd Eumaeus:

“Ah! wherefore, stranger, hath such a thought arisen in thine heart?

Surely thou art set on perishing utterly there, if thou wouldest indeed

go into the throng of the wooers, whose outrage and violence reacheth

even to the iron heaven! Not such as thou are their servants; they that

minister to them are young and gaily clad in mantles and in doublets,

and their heads are anointed with oil and they are fair of face, and

the polished boards are laden with bread and flesh and wine. Nay, abide

here, for none is vexed by thy presence, neither I nor any of my

fellows that are with me. But when the dear son of Odysseus comes, he

himself will give thee a mantle and a doublet for raiment, and will

send thee whithersoever thy heart and spirit bid thee go.”

Then the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him: “Oh, that thou mayst

so surely be dear to father Zeus as thou art to me, in that thou didst

make me to cease from wandering and dread woe! For there is no other

thing more mischievous to men than roaming; yet for their cursed

belly’s need men endure sore distress, to whom come wandering and

tribulation and pain. But behold now, since thou stayest me here, and

biddest me wait his coming, tell me of the mother of divine Odysseus,

and of the father whom at his departure he left behind him on the

threshold of old age; are they, it may be, yet alive beneath the

sunlight, or already dead and within the house of Hades?”

Then spake to him the swineherd, a master of men: “Yea now, stranger, I

will plainly tell thee all. Laertes yet lives, and prays evermore to

Zeus that his life may waste from out his limbs within his halls. For

he has wondrous sorrow for his son that is far away, and for the wedded

lady his wise wife, whose death afflicted him in chief and brought him

to old age before his day. Now she died of very grief for her son

renowned, by an evil death, so may no man perish who dwells here and is

a friend to me in word and deed! So long as she was on earth, though in

much sorrow, I was glad to ask and enquire concerning her, for that she

herself had reared me along with long-robed Ctimene, her noble

daughter, the youngest of her children. With her I was reared, and she

honoured me little less than her own. But when we both came to the time

of our desire, to the flower of age, thereupon they sent her to Same,

and got a great bride-price; but my lady clad me in a mantle and a

doublet, raiment very fair, and gave me sandals for my feet and sent me

forth to the field, and right dear at heart she held me. But of these

things now at last am I lacking; yet the blessed gods prosper the work

of mine own hands, whereat I abide. Of this my substance I have eaten

and drunken and given to reverend strangers. But from my lady I may

hear naught pleasant, neither word nor deed, for evil hath fallen on

her house, a plague of froward men; yet thralls have a great desire to

speak before their mistress and find out all eat and drink, and

moreover to carry off somewhat with them to the field, such things as

ever comfort the heart of a thrall.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: “Ah, Eumaeus, how

far then didst thou wander from thine own country and thy parents while

as yet thou wast but a child! But come, declare me this and plainly

tell it all. Was a wide-wayed town of men taken and sacked, wherein

dwelt thy father and thy lady mother, or did unfriendly men find thee

lonely, tending sheep or cattle, and shipped thee thence, and sold thee

into the house of thy master here, who paid for thee a goodly price?”

Then spake to him the swineherd, a master of men: Stranger, since thou

askest and questionest me hereof, give heed now in silence and make

merry, and abide here drinking wine. Lo, the nights now are of length

untold. Time is there to sleep, and time to listen and be glad; thou

needest not turn to bed before the hour; even too much sleep is

vexation of spirit. But for the rest, let him whose heart and mind bid

him, go forth and slumber, and at the dawning of the day let him break

his fast, and follow our master’s swine. But let us twain drink and

feast within the steading, and each in his neighbour’s sorrows take

delight, recalling them, for even the memory of griefs is a joy to a

man who hath been sore tried and wandered far. Wherefore I will tell

thee that whereof thou askest and dost question me.

“There is a certain isle called Syria, if haply thou hast heard tell of

it, over above Ortygia, and there are the turning-places of the sun. It

is not very great in compass, though a goodly isle, rich in herds, rich

in flocks, with plenty of corn and wine. Dearth never enters the land,

and no hateful sickness falls on wretched mortals. But when the tribes

of men grow old in that city, then comes Apollo of the silver bow, with

Artemis, and slays them with the visitation of his gentle shafts. In

that isle are two cities, and the whole land is divided between them,

and my father was king over the twain, Ctesius son of Ormenus, a man

like to the Immortals.

“Thither came the Phoenicians, mariners renowned, greedy merchant men,

with countless gauds in a black ship. Now in my father’s house was a

Phoenician woman, tall and fair and skilled in bright handiwork; this

woman the Phoenicians with their sleights beguiled. First as she was

washing clothes, one of them lay with her in love by the hollow ship,

for love beguiles the minds of womankind, even of the upright. Then he

asked her who she was and whence she came, and straightway she showed

him the lofty home of my father, saying:

“‘From out of Sidon I avow that I come, land rich in bronze, and I am

the daughter of Arybas, the deeply wealthy. But Taphians, who were

sea-robbers, laid hands on me and snatched me away as I came in from

the fields, and brought me hither and sold me into the house of my

master, who paid for me a goodly price.’

“Then the man who had lain with her privily, answered: ‘Say, wouldst

thou now return home with us, that thou mayst look again on the lofty

house of thy father and mother and on their faces? For truly they yet

live, and have a name for wealth.’

“Then the woman answered him and spake, saying: ‘Even this may well be,

if ye sailors will pledge me an oath to bring me home in safety.’

“So spake she, and they all swore thereto as she bade them. Now when

they had sworn and done that oath, again the woman spake among them and

answered, saying:

“‘Hold your peace now, and let none of your fellows speak to me and

greet me, if they meet me in the street, or even at the well, lest one

go and tell it to the old man at home, and he suspect somewhat and bind

me in hard bonds and devise death for all of you. But keep ye the

matter in mind, and speed the purchase of your homeward freight. And

when your ship is freighted with stores, let a message come quickly to

me at the house; for I will likewise bring gold, all that comes under

my hand. Yea and there is another thing that I would gladly give for my

fare. I am nurse to the child of my lord in the halls, a most cunning

little boy, that runs out and abroad with me. Him would I bring on

board ship, and he should fetch you a great price, wheresoever ye take

him for sale among men of strange speech.’

“Therewith she went her way to the fair halls. But they abode among us

a whole year, and got together much wealth in their hollow ship. And

when their hollow ship was now laden to depart, they sent a messenger

to tell the tidings to the woman. There came a man versed in craft to

my father’s house, with a golden chain strung here and there with amber

beads. Now the maidens in the hall and my lady mother were handling the

chain and gazing on it, and offering him their price; but he had signed

silently to the woman, and therewithal gat him away to the hollow ship.

Then she took me by the hand and led me forth from the house. And at

the vestibule of the house she found the cups and the tables of the

guests that had been feasting, who were in waiting on my father. They

had gone forth to the session and the place of parley of the people.

And she straightway hid three goblets in her bosom, and bare them away,

and I followed in my innocence. Then the sun sank and all the ways were

darkened and we went quickly and came to the good haven, where was the

swift ship of the Phoenicians. So they climbed on board and took us up

with them, and sailed over the wet ways, and Zeus sent us a favouring

wind. For six days we sailed by day and night continually; but when

Zeus, son of Cronos, added the seventh day thereto, then Artemis, the

archer, smote the woman that she fell, as a sea-swallow falls, with a

plunge into the hold. And they cast her forth to be the prey of seals

and fishes, but I was left stricken at heart. And wind and water bare

them and brought them to Ithaca, where Laertes bought me with his

possessions. And thus it chanced that mine eyes beheld this land.”

Then Odysseus, of the seed of Zeus, answered him saying:

“Eumaeus, verily thou hast stirred my heart within me with the tale of

all these things, of all the sorrow of heart thou hast endured. Yet

surely Zeus hath given thee good as well as evil, since after all these

adventures thou hast come to the house of a kindly man, who is careful

to give thee meat and drink and right well thou livest. But I have come

hither still wandering through the many towns of men.”

Thus they spake one with the other. Then they laid them down to sleep

for no long while, but for a little space, for soon came the throned

Dawn. But on the shore the company of Telemachus were striking their

sails, and took down the mast quickly and rowed the ship on to

anchorage. And they cast anchors and made fast the hawsers, and

themselves too stept forth upon the strand of the sea, and made ready

the midday meal, and mixed the dark wine. Now when they had put from

them the desire of meat and drink, wise Telemachus first spake among

them:

“Do ye now drive the black ship to the city, while I will go to the

fields and to the herdsmen, and at even I will return to the city, when

I have seen my lands. And in the morning I will set by you the wages of

the voyage, a good feast of flesh and of sweet wine.”

Then godlike Theoclymenus answered him: “And whither shall I go, dear

child? To what man’s house shall I betake me, of such as are lords in

rocky Ithaca? Shall I get me straight to thy mother and to thy home?”

Then wise Telemachus answered him, saying: “In other case I would bid

thee go even to our own house; for there is no lack of cheer for

strangers, but now would it be worse for thyself, forasmuch as I shall

be away nor would my mother see thee. For she comes not often in sight

of the wooers in the house, but abides apart from them in her upper

chamber, and weaves at her web. Yet there is one whom I will tell thee

of, to whom thou mayst go, Eurymachus the glorious son of wise Polybus,

whom now the men of Ithaca look upon, even as if he were a god. For he

is far the best man of them all, and is most eager to wed my mother and

to have the sovereignty of Odysseus. Howbeit, Olympian Zeus, that

dwells in the clear sky, knows hereof, whether or no he will fulfill

for them the evil day before their marriage.”

Now even as he spake, a bird flew out on the right, a hawk, the swift

messenger of Apollo. In his talons he held a dove and plucked her, and

shed the feathers down to the earth, midway between the ship and

Telemachus himself. Then Theoclymenus called him apart from his

fellows, and clasped his hand and spake and hailed him:

“Telemachus, surely not without the god’s will hath the bird flown out

on the right, for I knew when I saw him that he was a bird of omen.

There is no other house more kingly than yours in the land of Ithaca;

nay, ye have ever the mastery.”

And wise Telemachus answered him, saying: “Ah, stranger, would that

this word may be accomplished! Soon shouldest thou be aware of kindness

and many a gift at my hands, so that whoso met with thee would call

thee blessed.”

Then he spake to Piraeus, his trusty companion: “Piraeus, son of

Clytius, thou that at other seasons hearkenest to me above all my

company who went with me to Pylos, even now, I pray, lead this stranger

home with thee, and give heed to treat him lovingly and with worship in

thy house till I come.”

Then Piraeus, spearsman renowned, answered him saying: “Telemachus,

why, even if thou shouldest tarry here long, yet will I entertain this

man, and he shall have no lack of stranger’s cheer.”

Therewith he went on board, and bade his men themselves to mount and

loose the hawsers. And quickly they embarked and sat upon the benches.

And Telemachus bound his goodly sandals beneath his feet, and seized a

mighty spear, shod with sharp bronze, from the deck of the ship and his

men loosed the hawsers. So they thrust off and sailed to the city, as

Telemachus bade them, the dear son of divine Odysseus. But swiftly his

feet bore him on his forward way, till he came to the court, where were

his swine out of number; and among them the good swineherd slept, a man

loyal to his lords.

The Odyssey of Homer(#1728) · 第 15 / 24 章