The Odyssey
moreover, as I was going about the house without doing any harm, a man
gave me a blow that hurt me very much, but neither Telemachus nor any
one else defended me. Tell Penelope, therefore, to be patient and wait
till sundown. Let her give me a seat close up to the fire, for my
clothes are worn very thin—you know they are, for you have seen them
ever since I first asked you to help me—she can then ask me about the
return of her husband.”
The swineherd went back when he heard this, and Penelope said as she
saw him cross the threshold, “Why do you not bring him here, Eumaeus?
Is he afraid that some one will ill-treat him, or is he shy of coming
inside the house at all? Beggars should not be shamefaced.”
To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “The stranger is quite
reasonable. He is avoiding the suitors, and is only doing what any one
else would do. He asks you to wait till sundown, and it will be much
better, madam, that you should have him all to yourself, when you can
hear him and talk to him as you will.”
“The man is no fool,” answered Penelope, “it would very likely be as he
says, for there are no such abominable people in the whole world as
these men are.”
When she had done speaking Eumaeus went back to the suitors, for he had
explained everything. Then he went up to Telemachus and said in his ear
so that none could overhear him, “My dear sir, I will now go back to
the pigs, to see after your property and my own business. You will look
to what is going on here, but above all be careful to keep out of
danger, for there are many who bear you ill will. May Jove bring them
to a bad end before they do us a mischief.”
“Very well,” replied Telemachus, “go home when you have had your
dinner, and in the morning come here with the victims we are to
sacrifice for the day. Leave the rest to heaven and me.”
On this Eumaeus took his seat again, and when he had finished his
dinner he left the courts and the cloister with the men at table, and
went back to his pigs. As for the suitors, they presently began to
amuse themselves with singing and dancing, for it was now getting on
towards evening.
BOOK XVIII
THE FIGHT WITH IRUS—ULYSSES WARNS AMPHINOMUS—PENELOPE GETS PRESENTS
FROM THE SUITORS—THE BRAZIERS—ULYSSES REBUKES EURYMACHUS.
Now there came a certain common tramp who used to go begging all over
the city of Ithaca, and was notorious as an incorrigible glutton and
drunkard. This man had no strength nor stay in him, but he was a great
hulking fellow to look at; his real name, the one his mother gave him,
was Arnaeus, but the young men of the place called him Irus,148 because
he used to run errands for any one who would send him. As soon as he
came he began to insult Ulysses, and to try and drive him out of his
own house.
“Be off, old man,” he cried, “from the doorway, or you shall be dragged
out neck and heels. Do you not see that they are all giving me the
wink, and wanting me to turn you out by force, only I do not like to do
so? Get up then, and go of yourself, or we shall come to blows.”
Ulysses frowned on him and said, “My friend, I do you no manner of
harm; people give you a great deal, but I am not jealous. There is room
enough in this doorway for the pair of us, and you need not grudge me
things that are not yours to give. You seem to be just such another
tramp as myself, but perhaps the gods will give us better luck by and
by. Do not, however, talk too much about fighting or you will incense
me, and old though I am, I shall cover your mouth and chest with blood.
I shall have more peace tomorrow if I do, for you will not come to the
house of Ulysses any more.”
Irus was very angry and answered, “You filthy glutton, you run on
trippingly like an old fish-fag. I have a good mind to lay both hands
about you, and knock your teeth out of your head like so many boar’s
tusks. Get ready, therefore, and let these people here stand by and
look on. You will never be able to fight one who is so much younger
than yourself.”
Thus roundly did they rate one another on the smooth pavement in front
of the doorway,149 and when Antinous saw what was going on he laughed
heartily and said to the others, “This is the finest sport that you
ever saw; heaven never yet sent anything like it into this house. The
stranger and Irus have quarreled and are going to fight, let us set
them on to do so at once.”
The suitors all came up laughing, and gathered round the two ragged
tramps. “Listen to me,” said Antinous, “there are some goats’ paunches
down at the fire, which we have filled with blood and fat, and set
aside for supper; he who is victorious and proves himself to be the
better man shall have his pick of the lot; he shall be free of our
table and we will not allow any other beggar about the house at all.”
The others all agreed, but Ulysses, to throw them off the scent, said,
“Sirs, an old man like myself, worn out with suffering, cannot hold his
own against a young one; but my irrepressible belly urges me on, though
I know it can only end in my getting a drubbing. You must swear,
however that none of you will give me a foul blow to favour Irus and
secure him the victory.”
They swore as he told them, and when they had completed their oath
Telemachus put in a word and said, “Stranger, if you have a mind to
settle with this fellow, you need not be afraid of any one here.
Whoever strikes you will have to fight more than one. I am host, and
the other chiefs, Antinous and Eurymachus, both of them men of
understanding, are of the same mind as I am.”
Every one assented, and Ulysses girded his old rags about his loins,
thus baring his stalwart thighs, his broad chest and shoulders, and his
mighty arms; but Minerva came up to him and made his limbs even
stronger still. The suitors were beyond measure astonished, and one
would turn towards his neighbour saying, “The stranger has brought such
a thigh out of his old rags that there will soon be nothing left of
Irus.”
Irus began to be very uneasy as he heard them, but the servants girded
him by force, and brought him [into the open part of the court] in such
a fright that his limbs were all of a tremble. Antinous scolded him and
said, “You swaggering bully, you ought never to have been born at all
if you are afraid of such an old broken down creature as this tramp is.
I say, therefore—and it shall surely be—if he beats you and proves
himself the better man, I shall pack you off on board ship to the
mainland and send you to king Echetus, who kills every one that comes
near him. He will cut off your nose and ears, and draw out your
entrails for the dogs to eat.”
This frightened Irus still more, but they brought him into the middle
of the court, and the two men raised their hands to fight. Then Ulysses
considered whether he should let drive so hard at him as to make an end
of him then and there, or whether he should give him a lighter blow
that should only knock him down; in the end he deemed it best to give
the lighter blow for fear the Achaeans should begin to suspect who he
was. Then they began to fight, and Irus hit Ulysses on the right
shoulder; but Ulysses gave Irus a blow on the neck under the ear that
broke in the bones of his skull, and the blood came gushing out of his
mouth; he fell groaning in the dust, gnashing his teeth and kicking on
the ground, but the suitors threw up their hands and nearly died of
laughter, as Ulysses caught hold of him by the foot and dragged him
into the outer court as far as the gate-house. There he propped him up
against the wall and put his staff in his hands. “Sit here,” said he,
“and keep the dogs and pigs off; you are a pitiful creature, and if you
try to make yourself king of the beggars any more you shall fare still
worse.”
Then he threw his dirty old wallet, all tattered and torn over his
shoulder with the cord by which it hung, and went back to sit down upon
the threshold; but the suitors went within the cloisters, laughing and
saluting him, “May Jove, and all the other gods,” said they, “grant you
whatever you want for having put an end to the importunity of this
insatiable tramp. We will take him over to the mainland presently, to
king Echetus, who kills every one that comes near him.”
Ulysses hailed this as of good omen, and Antinous set a great goat’s
paunch before him filled with blood and fat. Amphinomus took two loaves
out of the bread-basket and brought them to him, pledging him as he did
so in a golden goblet of wine. “Good luck to you,” he said, “father
stranger, you are very badly off at present, but I hope you will have
better times by and by.”
To this Ulysses answered, “Amphinomus, you seem to be a man of good
understanding, as indeed you may well be, seeing whose son you are. I
have heard your father well spoken of; he is Nisus of Dulichium, a man
both brave and wealthy. They tell me you are his son, and you appear to
be a considerable person; listen, therefore, and take heed to what I am
saying. Man is the vainest of all creatures that have their being upon
earth. As long as heaven vouchsafes him health and strength, he thinks
that he shall come to no harm hereafter, and even when the blessed gods
bring sorrow upon him, he bears it as he needs must, and makes the best
of it; for God almighty gives men their daily minds day by day. I know
all about it, for I was a rich man once, and did much wrong in the
stubbornness of my pride, and in the confidence that my father and my
brothers would support me; therefore let a man fear God in all things
always, and take the good that heaven may see fit to send him without
vain glory. Consider the infamy of what these suitors are doing; see
how they are wasting the estate, and doing dishonour to the wife, of
one who is certain to return some day, and that, too, not long hence.
Nay, he will be here soon; may heaven send you home quietly first that
you may not meet with him in the day of his coming, for once he is here
the suitors and he will not part bloodlessly.”
With these words he made a drink-offering, and when he had drunk he put
the gold cup again into the hands of Amphinomus, who walked away
serious and bowing his head, for he foreboded evil. But even so he did
not escape destruction, for Minerva had doomed him to fall by the hand
of Telemachus. So he took his seat again at the place from which he had
come.
Then Minerva put it into the mind of Penelope to show herself to the
suitors, that she might make them still more enamoured of her, and win
still further honour from her son and husband. So she feigned a mocking
laugh and said, “Eurynome, I have changed my mind, and have a fancy to
show myself to the suitors although I detest them. I should like also
to give my son a hint that he had better not have anything more to do
with them. They speak fairly enough but they mean mischief.”
“My dear child,” answered Eurynome, “all that you have said is true, go
and tell your son about it, but first wash yourself and anoint your
face. Do not go about with your cheeks all covered with tears; it is
not right that you should grieve so incessantly; for Telemachus, whom
you always prayed that you might live to see with a beard, is already
grown up.”
“I know, Eurynome,” replied Penelope, “that you mean well, but do not
try and persuade me to wash and to anoint myself, for heaven robbed me
of all my beauty on the day my husband sailed; nevertheless, tell
Autonoe and Hippodamia that I want them. They must be with me when I am
in the cloister; I am not going among the men alone; it would not be
proper for me to do so.”
On this the old woman150 went out of the room to bid the maids go to
their mistress. In the meantime Minerva bethought her of another
matter, and sent Penelope off into a sweet slumber; so she lay down on