On the evening before the arrival of Telemachus Odysseus was sitting
after supper with Eumæus and the other herdsmen, and wishing to learn
the purpose of Eumæus towards him he said: "I will no longer be a
burden to thee and thy fellows. To-morrow I will go to the town and
beg my living, if thou wilt send one of thy men to show me the way.
Perchance also I might visit the house of Odysseus, and have speech
with Penelope. And it may be that the wooers will take me into their
service, for I would have thee know that by favour of Hermes I am
right skilful of my hands, and no one can match me in laying a fire
and cleaving dry logs, in carving and roasting meat, and in pouring of
wine."
But this proposal found no favour with the honest swineherd. "Who put
such a thought," he asked, "into thy mind? Serve with the wooers! They
would put a speedy end to thy service, and pay thee thy wages in
blood. Those who wait upon them are of a different sort from thee--gay
striplings, daintily clad, with glossy hair and comely faces. Remain
with us until Telemachus comes home; thou art no burden either to me
or to my men."
"Be it so, then," answered Odysseus, "and may Heaven requite thee for
thy goodness to a poor homeless outcast, who wanders in misery, driven
by hunger from door to door! And since I am still to be thy guest,
tell me something of thy master's mother, and of the father whom he
left behind when he went to the wars. Do they still live, or have they
gone to their rest?"
"This also thou shalt know," replied Eumæus. "Laertes his father still
lives, though sore stricken with years and sorrows; for his son's long
absence and his wife's miserable end have brought him to the verge of
the grave. She died long ago, and by such a death as I pray may never
come to anyone who is dear to me--she, my kind mistress, who brought
me up with her youngest daughter, and hardly loved me less. As long as
she lived I would often go down to the house, and she ever entertained
me kindly, and gave me something to carry back with me to my dwelling
on the land. Full well she knew how to sweeten the lot of a thrall
with pleasant words, and little acts of tenderness and love. But now I
seldom leave my charge, for since the wooers brought this curse upon
my master's house Penelope hides her face from us, and has no comfort
for us either in word or deed."
Odysseus listened with deep interest, and when Eumæus paused he
expressed a desire to hear the story of his life. "How was it," he
asked, "that already in early childhood thou wast cast on the mercy of
strangers? Wast thou taken captive in war, or did robbers seize thee
as thou satst watching sheep on the lonely hills, and sell thee into
bondage?"
"Fill thy cup," answered Eumæus, "we will pledge each other in a
hearty draught, and then thou shalt hear my tale. The nights are long
at this season, and we shall have time enough to sleep when I have
done. Fate has dealt hardly with me, even as with thee; and we can
find some comfort in telling over our sorrows to each other.
"There is a certain island called Syria, lying north of Ortygia, not
very large or populous, but a good land, rich in pasture, with waving
cornfields and goodly vineyards. There famine never comes, nor
sickness, but all the people reach a good old age, and then die by the
painless shafts of Artemis or of Apollo. There are two cities which
divide the territory equally between them; and there was one king over
both, my father, Ctesius, son of Ormenus.
"When I was still very young there came to the island a Phoenician
ship, laden with trinkets for barter. Now in my father's house was a
Phoenician woman, tall and fair, and skilled in needlework. She was my
nurse, and I was wont to run about the town with her. One day, as she
was washing clothes not far from the ship, she was recognised by a
Phoenician sailor as being of his own race, and he inquired how she
came to the island. She answered that she was a native of Sidon, and a
rich man's daughter, stolen from her home by pirates, and sold across
the seas. 'And hast thou a mind to see thy native land again?' asked
the fellow. 'Thy father and mother still live and prosper'; for she
had told him that her father's name was Arybas. 'I will go with you,'
answered the woman, 'if ye will swear an oath to carry me home
unharmed.' They all swore to do as she said, and after that she
instructed them how to proceed. 'Keep close counsel,' she said, 'and
let none of you seem to know me when ye meet me in the street, nor yet
by the well, lest anyone tell it to my master; for if he suspects that
aught is amiss it will be the ruin of us all. Lose no time in selling
your wares, and when the ship is freighted for her homeward voyage let
one of you come up to the house and give me a sign. I will not come
empty-handed, but will bring with me vessels of gold to pay for my
passage. Furthermore, I have charge of my master's child, a knowing
little lad; and, if it be possible, I will bring him with me, that ye
may sell him for a great price.'
"The bargain was struck, and the woman departed. Then for a whole year
they remained among us and traded; at last, when they had sold out all
their goods, and stowed their cargo, they sent up a man to my father's
house, to warn the woman that the time was come. He brought with him a
necklace of gold and amber, a thing of most rare device; and while my
mother and her women were handling it, and bargaining for the price,
the fellow made a sign to my nurse. When he was gone she took me by
the hand and led me with her into the courtyard before the house.
There she found tables set with vessels of gold, where my father had
been dining with his guests. They had now gone forth to attend the
council, and the place was deserted; so she caught up three goblets
and hid them in her bosom. Then with one rapid glance round, to make
sure that she was not observed, she hastened down to the spot where
the Phoenician ship lay moored; and I, poor child, followed her,
fearing nothing.
"Evening was coming on as we reached the shore, and the crew were
sitting ready at their oars, only waiting for our arrival. They took
us on board, rowed their galley into open water, and, a strong breeze
springing up from the land, they hoisted sail, and were soon beyond
the reach of pursuit. On the seventh day of the voyage the hand of
vengeance fell upon the woman, and she was struck dead by an invisible
blow. They flung her body to the fishes, and soon after we landed in
Ithaca, where they sold me as a slave to Laertes."
"Twas a sad fate for one of thy tender years," remarked Odysseus, when
Eumæus had finished his story. "Nevertheless thou wast happy to find
such a master--happier far than I, who am still a vagabond and a
wanderer in my old age."