Pallas and Odysseus consult of the killing of the wooers.
But the goodly Odysseus laid him down to sleep in the vestibule of the
house. He spread an undressed bull’s hide on the ground and above it
many fleeces of sheep, that the Achaeans were wont to slay in
sacrifice, and Eurynome threw a mantle over him where he lay. There
Odysseus lay wakeful, with evil thoughts against the wooers in his
heart. And the women came forth from their chamber, that aforetime were
wont to lie with the wooers, making laughter and mirth among
themselves. Then the heart of Odysseus was stirred within his breast,
and much he communed with his mind and soul, whether he should leap
forth upon them and deal death to each, or suffer them to lie with the
proud wooers, now for the last and latest time. And his heart growled
sullenly within him. And even as a bitch stands over her tender whelps
growling, when she spies a man she knows not, and she is eager to
assail him, so growled his heart within him in his wrath at their evil
deeds. Then he smote upon his breast and rebuked his own heart, saying:
“Endure, my heart; yea, a baser thing thou once didst bear, on that day
when the Cyclops, unrestrained in fury, devoured the mighty men of my
company; but still thou didst endure till thy craft found a way for
thee forth from out the cave, where thou thoughtest to die.”
So spake he, chiding his own spirit within him, and his heart verily
abode steadfast in obedience to his word. But Odysseus himself lay
tossing this way and that. And as when a man by a great fire burning
takes a paunch full of fat and blood, and turns it this way and that
and longs to have it roasted most speedily, so Odysseus tossed from
side to side, musing how he might stretch forth his hands upon the
shameless wooers, being but one man against so many. Then down from
heaven came Athene and drew nigh him, fashioned in the likeness of a
woman. And she stood over his head and spake to him, saying:
“Lo now again, wherefore art thou watching, most luckless of all men
living? Is not this thy house and is not thy wife there within and thy
child, such a son as men wish to have for their own?”
Then Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: “Yea, goddess, all
this thou hast spoken as is meet. But my heart within me muses in some
measure upon this, how I may stretch forth my hands upon the shameless
wooers, being but one man, while they abide ever in their companies
within. Moreover this other and harder matter I ponder in my heart:
even if I were to slay them by thy will and the will of Zeus, whither
should I flee from the avengers? Look well to this, I pray thee.”
Then answered the goddess, grey-eyed Athene: “O hard of belief! yea,
many there be that trust even in a weaker friend than I am, in one that
is a mortal and knows not such craft as mine; but I am a god, that
preserve thee to the end, in all manner of toils. And now I will tell
thee plainly; even should fifty companies of mortal men compass us
about eager to slay us in battle, even their kine shouldst thou drive
off and their brave flocks. But let sleep in turn come over thee; to
wake and to watch all night, this too is vexation of spirit; and soon
shalt thou rise from out of thy troubles.”
So she spake and poured slumber upon his eyelids, but for her part the
fair goddess went back to Olympus.
While sleep laid hold of him loosening the cares of his soul, sleep
that loosens the limbs of men, his good wife awoke and wept as she sat
on her soft bed. But when she had taken her fill of weeping, to Artemis
first the fair lady made her prayer:
“Artemis, lady and goddess, daughter of Zeus, would that even now thou
wouldst plant thy shaft within my breast and take my life away, even in
this hour! Or else, would that the stormwind might snatch me up, and
bear me hence down the dusky ways, and cast me forth where the
back-flowing Oceanus mingles with the sea. It should be even as when
the stormwinds bare away the daughters of Pandareus. Their father and
their mother the gods had slain, and the maidens were left orphans in
the halls, and fair Aphrodite cherished them with curds and sweet honey
and delicious wine. And Here gave them beauty and wisdom beyond the lot
of women, and holy Artemis dowered them with stature, and Athene taught
them skill in all famous handiwork. Now while fair Aphrodite was
wending to high Olympus, to pray that a glad marriage might be
accomplished for the maidens,—and to Zeus she went whose joy is in the
thunder, for he knows all things well, what the fates give and deny to
mortal men—in the meanwhile the spirits of the storm snatched away
these maidens, and gave them to be handmaids to the hateful Erinyes.
Would that in such wise they that hold the mansions of Olympus would
take me from the sight of men, or that fair-stressed Artemis would
strike me, that so with a vision of Odysseus before mine eyes I might
even pass beneath the dreadful earth, nor ever make a baser man’s
delight! But herein is an evil that may well be borne, namely, when a
man weeps all the day long in great sorrow of heart, but sleep takes
him in the night, for sleep makes him forgetful of all things, of good
and evil, when once it has overshadowed his eyelids. But as for me,
even the dreams that the gods send upon me are evil. For furthermore,
this very night one seemed to lie by my side, in the likeness of my
lord, as he was when he went with the host, and then was my heart glad,
since methought it was no vain dream but a clear vision at the last.”
So she spake, and anon came the golden throned Dawn. Now goodly
Odysseus caught the voice of her weeping, and then he fell a musing,
and it seemed to him that even now she knew him and was standing by his
head. So he took up the mantle and the fleeces whereon he was lying,
and set them on a high seat in the hall, and bare out the bull’s hide
out of doors and laid it there, and lifting up his hands he prayed to
Zeus:
“Father Zeus, if ye gods of your good will have led me over wet and
dry, to mine own country, after ye had plagued me sore, let some one I
pray of the folk that are waking show me a word of good omen within,
and without let some sign also be revealed to me from Zeus.”
So he spake in prayer, and Zeus, the counsellor, heard him. Straightway
he thundered from shining Olympus, from on high from the place of
clouds; and goodly Odysseus was glad. Moreover a woman, a grinder at
the mill, uttered a voice of omen from within the house hard by, where
stood the mills of the shepherd of the people. At these handmills
twelve women in all plied their task, making meal of barley and of
wheat, the marrow of men. Now all the others were asleep, for they had
ground out their task of grain, but one alone rested not yet, being the
weakest of all. She now stayed her quern and spake a word, a sign to
her lord:
“Father Zeus, who rulest over gods and men, loudly hast thou thundered
from the starry sky, yet nowhere is there a cloud to be seen: this
surely is a portent thou art showing to some mortal. Fulfil now, I pray
thee, even to miserable me, the word that I shall speak. May the
wooers, on this day, for the last and latest time make their sweet
feasting in the halls of Odysseus! They that have loosened my knees
with cruel toil to grind their barley meal, may they now sup their
last!”
Thus she spake, and goodly Odysseus was glad in the omen of the voice
and in the thunder of Zeus; for he thought that he had gotten his
vengeance on the guilty.
Now the other maidens in the fair halls of Odysseus had gathered, and
were kindling on the hearth the never-resting fire. And Telemachus rose
from his bed, a godlike man, and put on his raiment, and slung a sharp
sword about his shoulders, and beneath his shining feet he bound his
goodly sandals. And he caught up his mighty spear shod with sharp
bronze, and went and stood by the threshold, and spake to Eurycleia:
“Dear nurse, have ye honoured our guest in the house with food and
couch, or does he lie uncared for, as he may? For this is my mother’s
way, wise as she is: blindly she honours one of mortal men, even the
worse, but the better she sends without honour away.”
Then the prudent Eurycleia answered: “Nay, my child, thou shouldst not
now blame her where no blame is. For the stranger sat and drank wine,
so long as he would, and of food he said he was no longer fain, for thy
mother asked him. Moreover, against the hour when he should bethink him
of rest and sleep, she bade the maidens strew for him a bed. But he, as
one utterly wretched and ill-fated, refused to lie on a couch and under
blankets, but on an undressed hide and on the fleeces of sheep he slept
in the vestibule, and we cast a mantle over him.”
So she spake, and Telemachus passed out through the hall with his lance
in his hand, and two fleet dogs bare him company. He went on his way to
the assembly-place to join the goodly-greaved Achaeans. But the good
lady Eurycleia, daughter of Ops son of Peisenor, called aloud to her
maidens:
“Come hither, let some of you go busily and sweep the hall, and
sprinkle it, and on the fair-fashioned seats throw purple coverlets,
and others with sponges wipe all the tables clean, and cleanse the
mixing bowls and well-wrought double beakers, and others again go for
water to the well, and return with it right speedily. For the wooers
will not long be out of the hall but will return very early, for it is
a feast day, yea for all the people.”
So she spake, and they all gave ready ear and hearkened. Twenty of them
went to the well of dark water, and the others there in the halls were
busy with skilful hands.
Then in came the serving-men of the Achaeans. Thereon they cleft the
faggots well and cunningly, while, behold, the women came back from the
well. Then the swineherd joined them leading three fatted boars, the
best in all the flock. These he left to feed at large in the fair
courts, but as for him he spake to Odysseus gently, saying:
“Tell me, stranger, do the Achaeans at all look on thee with more
regard, or do they dishonour thee in the halls, as heretofore?”
Then Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying:
“Oh, that the gods, Eumaeus, may avenge the scorn wherewith these men
deal insolently, and devise infatuate deeds in another’s house, and
have no place for shame!”
On such wise they spake one to another. And Melanthius drew near them,
the goatherd, leading the goats that were most excellent in all the
herds to be a dinner for the wooers, and two shepherds bare him
company. So he tethered the goats beneath the echoing gallery, and
himself spake to Odysseus and taunted him, saying:
“Stranger, wilt thou still be a plague to us here in the hall, with thy
begging of men, and wilt not get thee gone? In no wise do I think we
twain will be sundered, till we taste each the other’s fists, for thy
begging is out of all order. Also there are elsewhere other feasts of
the Achaeans.”
So he spake, but Odysseus of many counsels answered him not a word, but
in silence he shook his head, brooding evil in the deep of his heart.
Moreover a third man came up, Philoetius, a master of men, leading a
barren heifer for the wooers and fatted goats. Now ferrymen had brought
them over from the mainland, boatmen who send even other folks on their
way, whosoever comes to them. The cattle he tethered carefully beneath
the echoing gallery, and himself drew close to the swineherd, and began
to question him:
“Swineherd, who is this stranger but newly come to our house? From what
men does he claim his birth? Where are his kin and his native fields?
Hapless is he, yet in fashion he is like a royal lord; but the gods mar
the goodliness of wandering men, when even for kings they have woven
the web of trouble.”
So he spake, and came close to him offering his right hand in welcome,
and uttering his voice spake to him winged words:
“Father and stranger, hail! may happiness be thine in the time to come;
but as now, thou art fast holden in many sorrows! Father Zeus, none
other god is more baneful than thou; thou hast no compassion on men,
that are of thine own begetting, but makest them to have fellowship
with evil and with bitter pains. The sweat brake out on me when I
beheld him, and mine eyes stand full of tears for memory of Odysseus,
for he too, methinks, is clad in such vile raiment as this, and is
wandering among men, if haply he yet lives and sees the sunlight. But
if he be dead already and in the house of Hades, then woe is me for the
noble Odysseus, who set me over his cattle while I was but a lad in the
land of the Cephallenians. And now these wax numberless; in no better
wise could the breed of broad-browed cattle of any mortal increase,
even as the ears of corn. But strangers command me to be ever driving
these for themselves to devour, and they care nothing for the heir in
the house, nor tremble at the vengeance of the gods, for they are eager
even now to divide among themselves the possessions of our lord who is
long afar. Now my heart within my breast often revolves this thing.
Truly it were an evil deed, while a son of the master is yet alive, to
get me away to the land of strangers, and go off, with cattle and all,
to alien men. But this is more grievous still, to abide here in
affliction watching over the herds of other men. Yea, long ago I would
have fled and gone forth to some other of the proud kings, for things
are now past sufferance; but still my thought is of that hapless one,
if he might come I know not whence, and make a scattering of the wooers
in the halls.”
Then Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying:
“Neatherd, seeing thou art not like to an evil man or a foolish, and of
myself I mark how that thou hast gotten understanding of heart,
therefore I will tell thee somewhat, and swear a great oath to confirm
it. Be Zeus now my witness before any god, and the hospitable board and
the hearth of noble Odysseus, whereunto I am come, that while thou art
still in this place Odysseus shall come home, and thou shalt see with
thine eyes, if thou wilt, the slaying of the wooers who lord it here.”
Then the neatherd made answer, saying:
“Ah, would, stranger, that Cronion may accomplish this word! So
shouldst thou know what my might is, and how my hands follow to obey.”
In like manner Eumaeus prayed to all the gods, that wise Odysseus might
return to his own home.
On such wise they spake one to the other, but the wooers at that time
were framing death and doom for Telemachus. Even so there came by them
a bird on their left, an eagle of lofty flight, with a cowering dove in
his clutch. Then Amphinomus made harangue and spake among them:
“Friends, this counsel of ours will not go well, namely, the slaying of
Telemachus; rather let us bethink us of the feast.”
So spake Amphinomus, and his saying pleased them well. They passed into
the halls of godlike Odysseus and laid by their mantles on the chairs
and high seats, and sacrificed great sheep and stout goats and the
fatlings of the boars and the heifer of the herd; then they roasted the
entrails and served them round and mixed wine in the bowl, and the
swineherd set a cup by each man. And Philoetius, a master of men,
handed them wheaten bread in beautiful baskets, and Melanthius poured
out the wine. So they put forth their hands on the good cheer set
before them.
Now Telemachus, in his crafty purpose, made Odysseus to sit down within
the stablished hall by the threshold of stone, and placed for him a
mean settle and a little table. He set by him his mess of the entrails,
and poured wine into a golden cup and spake to him, saying:
“There, sit thee down, drinking thy wine among the lords, and the
taunts and buffets of all the wooers I myself will ward off from thee,
for this is no house of public resort, but the very house of Odysseus,
and for me he won it. But, ye wooers, refrain your minds from rebukes
and your hands from buffets, that no strife and feud may arise.”
So he said, and they all bit their lips and marvelled at Telemachus, in
that he spake boldly. Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spake among
them, saying:
“Hard though the word be, let us accept it, Achaeans, even the word of
Telemachus, though mightily he threatens us in his speech. For Zeus
Cronion hath hindered us of our purpose, else would we have silenced
him in our halls, shrill orator as he is.”
So spake Antinous, but Telemachus took no heed of his words. Now the
henchmen were leading through the town the holy hecatomb of the gods,
and lo, the long-haired Achaeans were gathered beneath the shady grove
of Apollo, the prince of archery.
Now when they had roasted the outer flesh and drawn it off the spits,
they divided the messes and shared the glorious feast. And beside
Odysseus they that waited set an equal share, the same as that which
fell to themselves, for so Telemachus commanded, the dear son of divine
Odysseus.
Now Athene would in nowise suffer the lordly wooers to abstain from
biting scorn, that the pain might sink yet the deeper into the heart of
Odysseus, son of Laertes. There was among the wooers a man of a lawless
heart, Ctesippus was his name, and in Same was his home, who trusting,
forsooth, to his vast possessions, was wooing the wife of Odysseus the
lord long afar. And now he spake among the proud wooers:
“Hear me, ye lordly wooers, and I will say somewhat. The stranger
verily has long had his due portion, as is meet, an equal share; for it
is not fair nor just to rob the guests of Telemachus of their right,
whosoever they may be that come to this house. Go to then, I also will
bestow on him a stranger’s gift, that he in turn may give a present
either to the bath-woman, or to any other of the thralls within the
house of godlike Odysseus.”
Therewith he caught up an ox’s foot from the dish, where it lay, and
hurled it with strong hand. But Odysseus lightly avoided it with a turn
of his head, and smiled right grimly in his heart, and the ox’s foot
smote the well-builded wall. Then Telemachus rebuked Ctesippus, saying:
“Verily, Ctesippus, it has turned out happier for thy heart’s pleasure
as it is! Thou didst not smite the stranger, for he himself avoided
that which was cast at him, else surely would I have struck thee
through the midst with the sharp spear, and in place of wedding banquet
thy father would have had to busy him about a funeral feast in this
place. Wherefore let no man make show of unseemly deeds in this my
house, for now I have understanding to discern both good and evil, but
in time past I was yet a child. But as needs we must, we still endure
to see these deeds, while sheep are slaughtered and wine drunken and
bread devoured, for hard it is for one man to restrain many. But come,
no longer work me harm out of an evil heart; but if ye be set on
slaying me, even me, with the sword, even that would I rather endure,
and far better would it be to die than to witness for ever these
unseemly deeds—strangers shamefully entreated, and men haling the
handmaidens in foul wise through the fair house.”
So he spake, and they were all hushed in silence. And late and at last
spake among them Agelaus, son of Damastor:
“Friends, when a righteous word has been spoken, none surely would
rebuke another with hard speech and be angry. Misuse ye not this
stranger, nor any of the thralls that are in the house of godlike
Odysseus. But to Telemachus himself I would speak a soft word and to
his mother, if perchance it may find favour with the mind of those
twain. So long as your hearts within you had hope of the wise Odysseus
returning to his own house, so long none could be wroth that ye waited
and held back the wooers in the halls, for so had it been better, if
Odysseus had returned and come back to his own home. But now the event
is plain, that he will return no more. Go then, sit by thy mother and
tell her all, namely, that she must wed the best man that wooes her,
and whose gives most gifts; so shalt thou with gladness live on the
heritage of thy father, eating and drinking, while she cares for
another’s house.”
Then wise Telemachus answered, and said: “Nay by Zeus, Agelaus, and by
the griefs of my father, who far away methinks from Ithaca has perished
or goes wandering, in nowise do I delay my mother’s marriage; nay, I
bid her be married to what man she will, and withal I offer gifts
without number. But I do indeed feel shame to drive her forth from the
hall, despite her will, by a word of compulsion; God forbid that ever
this should be.”
So spake Telemachus, but among the wooers Pallas Athene roused laughter
unquenchable, and drave their wits wandering. And now they were
laughing with alien lips, and blood-bedabbled was the flesh they ate,
and their eyes were filled with tears and their soul was fain of
lamentation. Then the godlike Theoclymenus spake among them:
“Ah, wretched men, what woe is this ye suffer? Shrouded in night are
your heads and your faces and your knees, and kindled is the voice of
wailing, and all cheeks are wet with tears, and the walls and the fair
main-beams of the roof are sprinkled with blood. And the porch is full,
and full is the court, of ghosts that hasten hellwards beneath the
gloom, and the sun has perished out of heaven, and an evil mist has
overspread the world.”
So spake he, and they all laughed sweetly at him. Then Eurymachus, son
of Polybus, began to speak to them, saying:
“The guest that is newly come from a strange land is beside himself.
Quick, ye young men, and convey him forth out of doors, that he may go
to the place of the gathering, since here he finds it dark as night.”
Then godlike Theoclymenus answered him: “Eurymachus, in nowise do I
seek guides of thee to send me on my way. Eyes have I, and ears, and
both my feet, and a stable mind in my breast of no mean fashioning.
With these I will go forth, for I see evil coming on you, which not one
man of the wooers may avoid or shun, of all you who in the house of
divine Odysseus deal insolently with men and devise infatuate deeds.”
Therewith he went forth from out the fair-lying halls, and came to
Peiraeus who received him gladly. Then all the wooers, looking one at
the other, provoked Telemachus to anger, laughing at his guests. And
thus some one of the haughty youths would speak:
“Telemachus, no man is more luckless than thou in his guests, seeing
thou keepest such a filthy wanderer, whosoever he be, always longing
for bread and wine, and skilled in no peaceful work nor any deed of
war, but a mere burden of the earth. And this other fellow again must
stand up to play the seer! Nay, but if thou wouldest listen to me, much
better it were. Let us cast these strangers on board a benched ship,
and send them to the Sicilians, whence they would fetch thee their
price.”[35]
[35] Reading ἄλφοιν, which is a correction. Or keeping the MSS. ἄλφοι,
“and this should bring thee in a goodly price,” the subject to ἄλφοι
being, probably, _the sale_, which is suggested by the context.
So spake the wooers, but he heeded not their words, in silence he
looked towards his father, expecting evermore the hour when he should
stretch forth his hands upon the shameless wooers.
Now the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, had set her fair chair over
against them, and heard the words of each one of the men in the halls.
For in the midst of laughter they had got ready the midday meal, a
sweet meal and abundant, for they had sacrificed many cattle. But never
could there be a banquet less gracious than that supper, such an one as
the goddess and the brave man were soon to spread for them; for that
they had begun the devices of shame.