The Odyssey
“My friends,” said he, “this voyage of Telemachus’s is a very serious
matter; we had made sure that it would come to nothing. Now, however,
let us draw a ship into the water, and get a crew together to send
after the others and tell them to come back as fast as they can.”
He had hardly done speaking when Amphinomus turned in his place and saw
the ship inside the harbour, with the crew lowering her sails, and
putting by their oars; so he laughed, and said to the others, “We need
not send them any message, for they are here. Some god must have told
them, or else they saw the ship go by, and could not overtake her.”
On this they rose and went to the water side. The crew then drew the
ship on shore; their servants took their armour from them, and they
went up in a body to the place of assembly, but they would not let any
one old or young sit along with them, and Antinous, son of Eupeithes,
spoke first.
“Good heavens,” said he, “see how the gods have saved this man from
destruction. We kept a succession of scouts upon the headlands all day
long, and when the sun was down we never went on shore to sleep, but
waited in the ship all night till morning in the hope of capturing and
killing him; but some god has conveyed him home in spite of us. Let us
consider how we can make an end of him. He must not escape us; our
affair is never likely to come off while he is alive, for he is very
shrewd, and public feeling is by no means all on our side. We must make
haste before he can call the Achaeans in assembly; he will lose no time
in doing so, for he will be furious with us, and will tell all the
world how we plotted to kill him, but failed to take him. The people
will not like this when they come to know of it; we must see that they
do us no hurt, nor drive us from our own country into exile. Let us try
and lay hold of him either on his farm away from the town, or on the
road hither. Then we can divide up his property amongst us, and let his
mother and the man who marries her have the house. If this does not
please you, and you wish Telemachus to live on and hold his father’s
property, then we must not gather here and eat up his goods in this
way, but must make our offers to Penelope each from his own house, and
she can marry the man who will give the most for her, and whose lot it
is to win her.”
They all held their peace until Amphinomus rose to speak. He was the
son of Nisus, who was son to king Aretias, and he was foremost among
all the suitors from the wheat-growing and well grassed island of
Dulichium; his conversation, moreover, was more agreeable to Penelope
than that of any of the other suitors, for he was a man of good natural
disposition. “My friends,” said he, speaking to them plainly and in all
honestly, “I am not in favour of killing Telemachus. It is a heinous
thing to kill one who is of noble blood. Let us first take counsel of
the gods, and if the oracles of Jove advise it, I will both help to
kill him myself, and will urge everyone else to do so; but if they
dissuade us, I would have you hold your hands.”
Thus did he speak, and his words pleased them well, so they rose
forthwith and went to the house of Ulysses, where they took their
accustomed seats.
Then Penelope resolved that she would show herself to the suitors. She
knew of the plot against Telemachus, for the servant Medon had
overheard their counsels and had told her; she went down therefore to
the court attended by her maidens, and when she reached the suitors she
stood by one of the bearing-posts supporting the roof of the cloister
holding a veil before her face, and rebuked Antinous saying:
“Antinous, insolent and wicked schemer, they say you are the best
speaker and counsellor of any man your own age in Ithaca, but you are
nothing of the kind. Madman, why should you try to compass the death of
Telemachus, and take no heed of suppliants, whose witness is Jove
himself? It is not right for you to plot thus against one another. Do
you not remember how your father fled to this house in fear of the
people, who were enraged against him for having gone with some Taphian
pirates and plundered the Thesprotians who were at peace with us? They
wanted to tear him in pieces and eat up everything he had, but Ulysses
stayed their hands although they were infuriated, and now you devour
his property without paying for it, and break my heart by wooing his
wife and trying to kill his son. Leave off doing so, and stop the
others also.”
To this Eurymachus son of Polybus answered, “Take heart, Queen Penelope
daughter of Icarius, and do not trouble yourself about these matters.
The man is not yet born, nor never will be, who shall lay hands upon
your son Telemachus, while I yet live to look upon the face of the
earth. I say—and it shall surely be—that my spear shall be reddened
with his blood; for many a time has Ulysses taken me on his knees, held
wine up to my lips to drink, and put pieces of meat into my hands.
Therefore Telemachus is much the dearest friend I have, and has nothing
to fear from the hands of us suitors. Of course, if death comes to him
from the gods, he cannot escape it.” He said this to quiet her, but in
reality he was plotting against Telemachus.
Then Penelope went upstairs again and mourned her husband till Minerva
shed sleep over her eyes. In the evening Eumaeus got back to Ulysses
and his son, who had just sacrificed a young pig of a year old and were
helping one another to get supper ready; Minerva therefore came up to
Ulysses, turned him into an old man with a stroke of her wand, and clad
him in his old clothes again, for fear that the swineherd might
recognise him and not keep the secret, but go and tell Penelope.
Telemachus was the first to speak. “So you have got back, Eumaeus,”
said he. “What is the news of the town? Have the suitors returned, or
are they still waiting over yonder, to take me on my way home?”
“I did not think of asking about that,” replied Eumaeus, “when I was in
the town. I thought I would give my message and come back as soon as I
could. I met a man sent by those who had gone with you to Pylos, and he
was the first to tell the news to your mother, but I can say what I saw
with my own eyes; I had just got on to the crest of the hill of Mercury
above the town when I saw a ship coming into harbour with a number of
men in her. They had many shields and spears, and I thought it was the
suitors, but I cannot be sure.”
On hearing this Telemachus smiled to his father, but so that Eumaeus
could not see him.
Then, when they had finished their work and the meal was ready, they
ate it, and every man had his full share so that all were satisfied. As
soon as they had had enough to eat and drink, they laid down to rest
and enjoyed the boon of sleep.
BOOK XVII
TELEMACHUS AND HIS MOTHER MEET—ULYSSES AND EUMAEUS COME DOWN TO THE
TOWN, AND ULYSSES IS INSULTED BY MELANTHIUS—HE IS RECOGNISED BY THE DOG
ARGOS—HE IS INSULTED AND PRESENTLY STRUCK BY ANTINOUS WITH A
STOOL—PENELOPE DESIRES THAT HE SHALL BE SENT TO HER.
When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, Telemachus
bound on his sandals and took a strong spear that suited his hands, for
he wanted to go into the city. “Old friend,” said he to the swineherd,
“I will now go to the town and show myself to my mother, for she will
never leave off grieving till she has seen me. As for this unfortunate
stranger, take him to the town and let him beg there of any one who
will give him a drink and a piece of bread. I have trouble enough of my
own, and cannot be burdened with other people. If this makes him angry
so much the worse for him, but I like to say what I mean.”
Then Ulysses said, “Sir, I do not want to stay here; a beggar can
always do better in town than country, for any one who likes can give
him something. I am too old to care about remaining here at the beck
and call of a master. Therefore let this man do as you have just told
him, and take me to the town as soon as I have had a warm by the fire,
and the day has got a little heat in it. My clothes are wretchedly
thin, and this frosty morning I shall be perished with cold, for you
say the city is some way off.”
On this Telemachus strode off through the yards, brooding his revenge
upon the suitors. When he reached home he stood his spear against a
bearing-post of the cloister, crossed the stone floor of the cloister
itself, and went inside.
Nurse Euryclea saw him long before any one else did. She was putting
the fleeces on to the seats, and she burst out crying as she ran up to
him; all the other maids came up too, and covered his head and
shoulders with their kisses. Penelope came out of her room looking like
Diana or Venus, and wept as she flung her arms about her son. She
kissed his forehead and both his beautiful eyes, “Light of my eyes,”
she cried as she spoke fondly to him, “so you are come home again; I
made sure I was never going to see you any more. To think of your
having gone off to Pylos without saying anything about it or obtaining
my consent. But come, tell me what you saw.”
“Do not scold me, mother,” answered Telemachus, “nor vex me, seeing
what a narrow escape I have had, but wash your face, change your dress,
go upstairs with your maids, and promise full and sufficient hecatombs
to all the gods if Jove will only grant us our revenge upon the
suitors. I must now go to the place of assembly to invite a stranger
who has come back with me from Pylos. I sent him on with my crew, and
told Piraeus to take him home and look after him till I could come for
him myself.”
She heeded her son’s words, washed her face, changed her dress, and
vowed full and sufficient hecatombs to all the gods if they would only
vouchsafe her revenge upon the suitors.
Telemachus went through, and out of, the cloisters spear in hand—not
alone, for his two fleet dogs went with him. Minerva endowed him with a
presence of such divine comeliness that all marvelled at him as he went
by, and the suitors gathered round him with fair words in their mouths
and malice in their hearts; but he avoided them, and went to sit with
Mentor, Antiphus, and Halitherses, old friends of his father’s house,
and they made him tell them all that had happened to him. Then Piraeus
came up with Theoclymenus, whom he had escorted through the town to the
place of assembly, whereon Telemachus at once joined them. Piraeus was
first to speak: “Telemachus,” said he, “I wish you would send some of
your women to my house to take away the presents Menelaus gave you.”
“We do not know, Piraeus,” answered Telemachus, “what may happen. If
the suitors kill me in my own house and divide my property among them,
I would rather you had the presents than that any of those people
should get hold of them. If on the other hand I managed to kill them, I
shall be much obliged if you will kindly bring me my presents.”
With these words he took Theoclymenus to his own house. When they got
there they laid their cloaks on the benches and seats, went into the
baths, and washed themselves. When the maids had washed and anointed
them, and had given them cloaks and shirts, they took their seats at
table. A maid servant then brought them water in a beautiful golden
ewer, and poured it into a silver basin for them to wash their hands;
and she drew a clean table beside them. An upper servant brought them
bread and offered them many good things of what there was in the house.
Opposite them sat Penelope, reclining on a couch by one of the
bearing-posts of the cloister, and spinning. Then they laid their hands
on the good things that were before them, and as soon as they had had
enough to eat and drink Penelope said:
“Telemachus, I shall go upstairs and lie down on that sad couch, which