The Odyssey
the stick that he had in his hand: still, he would have been torn by
them in his own homestead had not the swineherd dropped his ox hide,
rushed full speed through the gate of the yard and driven the dogs off
by shouting and throwing stones at them. Then he said to Ulysses, “Old
man, the dogs were likely to have made short work of you, and then you
would have got me into trouble. The gods have given me quite enough
worries without that, for I have lost the best of masters, and am in
continual grief on his account. I have to attend swine for other people
to eat, while he, if he yet lives to see the light of day, is starving
in some distant land. But come inside, and when you have had your fill
of bread and wine, tell me where you come from, and all about your
misfortunes.”
On this the swineherd led the way into the hut and bade him sit down.
He strewed a good thick bed of rushes upon the floor, and on the top of
this he threw the shaggy chamois skin—a great thick one—on which he
used to sleep by night. Ulysses was pleased at being made thus welcome,
and said “May Jove, sir, and the rest of the gods grant you your
heart’s desire in return for the kind way in which you have received
me.”
To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Stranger, though a still
poorer man should come here, it would not be right for me to insult
him, for all strangers and beggars are from Jove. You must take what
you can get and be thankful, for servants live in fear when they have
young lords for their masters; and this is my misfortune now, for
heaven has hindered the return of him who would have been always good
to me and given me something of my own—a house, a piece of land, a good
looking wife, and all else that a liberal master allows a servant who
has worked hard for him, and whose labour the gods have prospered as
they have mine in the situation which I hold. If my master had grown
old here he would have done great things by me, but he is gone, and I
wish that Helen’s whole race were utterly destroyed, for she has been
the death of many a good man. It was this matter that took my master to
Ilius, the land of noble steeds, to fight the Trojans in the cause of
king Agamemnon.”
As he spoke he bound his girdle round him and went to the styes where
the young sucking pigs were penned. He picked out two which he brought
back with him and sacrificed. He singed them, cut them up, and spitted
them; when the meat was cooked he brought it all in and set it before
Ulysses, hot and still on the spit, whereon Ulysses sprinkled it over
with white barley meal. The swineherd then mixed wine in a bowl of
ivy-wood, and taking a seat opposite Ulysses told him to begin.
“Fall to, stranger,” said he, “on a dish of servant’s pork. The fat
pigs have to go to the suitors, who eat them up without shame or
scruple; but the blessed gods love not such shameful doings, and
respect those who do what is lawful and right. Even the fierce
freebooters who go raiding on other people’s land, and Jove gives them
their spoil—even they, when they have filled their ships and got home
again live conscience-stricken, and look fearfully for judgement; but
some god seems to have told these people that Ulysses is dead and gone;
they will not, therefore, go back to their own homes and make their
offers of marriage in the usual way, but waste his estate by force,
without fear or stint. Not a day or night comes out of heaven, but they
sacrifice not one victim nor two only, and they take the run of his
wine, for he was exceedingly rich. No other great man either in Ithaca
or on the mainland is as rich as he was; he had as much as twenty men
put together. I will tell you what he had. There are twelve herds of
cattle upon the main land, and as many flocks of sheep, there are also
twelve droves of pigs, while his own men and hired strangers feed him
twelve widely spreading herds of goats. Here in Ithaca he runs even
large flocks of goats on the far end of the island, and they are in the
charge of excellent goat herds. Each one of these sends the suitors the
best goat in the flock every day. As for myself, I am in charge of the
pigs that you see here, and I have to keep picking out the best I have
and sending it to them.”
This was his story, but Ulysses went on eating and drinking ravenously
without a word, brooding his revenge. When he had eaten enough and was
satisfied, the swineherd took the bowl from which he usually drank,
filled it with wine, and gave it to Ulysses, who was pleased, and said
as he took it in his hands, “My friend, who was this master of yours
that bought you and paid for you, so rich and so powerful as you tell
me? You say he perished in the cause of King Agamemnon; tell me who he
was, in case I may have met with such a person. Jove and the other gods
know, but I may be able to give you news of him, for I have travelled
much.”
Eumaeus answered, “Old man, no traveller who comes here with news will
get Ulysses’ wife and son to believe his story. Nevertheless, tramps in
want of a lodging keep coming with their mouths full of lies, and not a
word of truth; every one who finds his way to Ithaca goes to my
mistress and tells her falsehoods, whereon she takes them in, makes
much of them, and asks them all manner of questions, crying all the
time as women will when they have lost their husbands. And you too, old
man, for a shirt and a cloak would doubtless make up a very pretty
story. But the wolves and birds of prey have long since torn Ulysses to
pieces, or the fishes of the sea have eaten him, and his bones are
lying buried deep in sand upon some foreign shore; he is dead and gone,
and a bad business it is for all his friends—for me especially; go
where I may I shall never find so good a master, not even if I were to
go home to my mother and father where I was bred and born. I do not so
much care, however, about my parents now, though I should dearly like
to see them again in my own country; it is the loss of Ulysses that
grieves me most; I cannot speak of him without reverence though he is
here no longer, for he was very fond of me, and took such care of me
that wherever he may be I shall always honour his memory.”
“My friend,” replied Ulysses, “you are very positive, and very hard of
belief about your master’s coming home again, nevertheless I will not
merely say, but will swear, that he is coming. Do not give me anything
for my news till he has actually come, you may then give me a shirt and
cloak of good wear if you will. I am in great want, but I will not take
anything at all till then, for I hate a man, even as I hate hell fire,
who lets his poverty tempt him into lying. I swear by king Jove, by the
rites of hospitality, and by that hearth of Ulysses to which I have now
come, that all will surely happen as I have said it will. Ulysses will
return in this self same year; with the end of this moon and the
beginning of the next he will be here to do vengeance on all those who
are ill treating his wife and son.”
To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Old man, you will neither
get paid for bringing good news, nor will Ulysses ever come home; drink
your wine in peace, and let us talk about something else. Do not keep
on reminding me of all this; it always pains me when any one speaks
about my honoured master. As for your oath we will let it alone, but I
only wish he may come, as do Penelope, his old father Laertes, and his
son Telemachus. I am terribly unhappy too about this same boy of his;
he was running up fast into manhood, and bade fare to be no worse man,
face and figure, than his father, but some one, either god or man, has
been unsettling his mind, so he has gone off to Pylos to try and get
news of his father, and the suitors are lying in wait for him as he is
coming home, in the hope of leaving the house of Arceisius without a
name in Ithaca. But let us say no more about him, and leave him to be
taken, or else to escape if the son of Saturn holds his hand over him
to protect him. And now, old man, tell me your own story; tell me also,
for I want to know, who you are and where you come from. Tell me of
your town and parents, what manner of ship you came in, how crew
brought you to Ithaca, and from what country they professed to come—for
you cannot have come by land.”
And Ulysses answered, “I will tell you all about it. If there were meat
and wine enough, and we could stay here in the hut with nothing to do
but to eat and drink while the others go to their work, I could easily
talk on for a whole twelve months without ever finishing the story of
the sorrows with which it has pleased heaven to visit me.
“I am by birth a Cretan; my father was a well to do man, who had many
sons born in marriage, whereas I was the son of a slave whom he had
purchased for a concubine; nevertheless, my father Castor son of Hylax
(whose lineage I claim, and who was held in the highest honour among
the Cretans for his wealth, prosperity, and the valour of his sons) put
me on the same level with my brothers who had been born in wedlock.
When, however, death took him to the house of Hades, his sons divided
his estate and cast lots for their shares, but to me they gave a
holding and little else; nevertheless, my valour enabled me to marry
into a rich family, for I was not given to bragging, or shirking on the
field of battle. It is all over now; still, if you look at the straw
you can see what the ear was, for I have had trouble enough and to
spare. Mars and Minerva made me doughty in war; when I had picked my
men to surprise the enemy with an ambuscade I never gave death so much
as a thought, but was the first to leap forward and spear all whom I
could overtake. Such was I in battle, but I did not care about farm
work, nor the frugal home life of those who would bring up children. My
delight was in ships, fighting, javelins, and arrows—things that most
men shudder to think of; but one man likes one thing and another
another, and this was what I was most naturally inclined to. Before the
Achaeans went to Troy, nine times was I in command of men and ships on
foreign service, and I amassed much wealth. I had my pick of the spoil
in the first instance, and much more was allotted to me later on.
“My house grew apace and I became a great man among the Cretans, but
when Jove counselled that terrible expedition, in which so many
perished, the people required me and Idomeneus to lead their ships to
Troy, and there was no way out of it, for they insisted on our doing
so. There we fought for nine whole years, but in the tenth we sacked
the city of Priam and sailed home again as heaven dispersed us. Then it
was that Jove devised evil against me. I spent but one month happily
with my children, wife, and property, and then I conceived the idea of
making a descent on Egypt, so I fitted out a fine fleet and manned it.
I had nine ships, and the people flocked to fill them. For six days I
and my men made feast, and I found them many victims both for sacrifice
to the gods and for themselves, but on the seventh day we went on board
and set sail from Crete with a fair North wind behind us though we were
going down a river. Nothing went ill with any of our ships, and we had
no sickness on board, but sat where we were and let the ships go as the
wind and steersmen took them. On the fifth day we reached the river
Aegyptus; there I stationed my ships in the river, bidding my men stay
by them and keep guard over them while I sent out scouts to reconnoitre
from every point of vantage.
“But the men disobeyed my orders, took to their own devices, and
ravaged the land of the Egyptians, killing the men, and taking their
wives and children captive. The alarm was soon carried to the city, and
when they heard the war cry, the people came out at daybreak till the