The Odyssey
it lay, and threw it at Ulysses, but Ulysses turned his head a little
aside, and avoided it, smiling grimly Sardinian fashion159 as he did
so, and it hit the wall, not him. On this Telemachus spoke fiercely to
Ctesippus, “It is a good thing for you,” said he, “that the stranger
turned his head so that you missed him. If you had hit him I should
have run you through with my spear, and your father would have had to
see about getting you buried rather than married in this house. So let
me have no more unseemly behaviour from any of you, for I am grown up
now to the knowledge of good and evil and understand what is going on,
instead of being the child that I have been heretofore. I have long
seen you killing my sheep and making free with my corn and wine: I have
put up with this, for one man is no match for many, but do me no
further violence. Still, if you wish to kill me, kill me; I would far
rather die than see such disgraceful scenes day after day—guests
insulted, and men dragging the women servants about the house in an
unseemly way.”
They all held their peace till at last Agelaus son of Damastor said,
“No one should take offence at what has just been said, nor gainsay it,
for it is quite reasonable. Leave off, therefore, ill-treating the
stranger, or any one else of the servants who are about the house; I
would say, however, a friendly word to Telemachus and his mother, which
I trust may commend itself to both. ‘As long,’ I would say, ‘as you had
ground for hoping that Ulysses would one day come home, no one could
complain of your waiting and suffering160 the suitors to be in your
house. It would have been better that he should have returned, but it
is now sufficiently clear that he will never do so; therefore talk all
this quietly over with your mother, and tell her to marry the best man,
and the one who makes her the most advantageous offer. Thus you will
yourself be able to manage your own inheritance, and to eat and drink
in peace, while your mother will look after some other man’s house, not
yours.’”
To this Telemachus answered, “By Jove, Agelaus, and by the sorrows of
my unhappy father, who has either perished far from Ithaca, or is
wandering in some distant land, I throw no obstacles in the way of my
mother’s marriage; on the contrary I urge her to choose whomsoever she
will, and I will give her numberless gifts into the bargain, but I dare
not insist point blank that she shall leave the house against her own
wishes. Heaven forbid that I should do this.”
Minerva now made the suitors fall to laughing immoderately, and set
their wits wandering; but they were laughing with a forced laughter.
Their meat became smeared with blood; their eyes filled with tears, and
their hearts were heavy with forebodings. Theoclymenus saw this and
said, “Unhappy men, what is it that ails you? There is a shroud of
darkness drawn over you from head to foot, your cheeks are wet with
tears; the air is alive with wailing voices; the walls and roof-beams
drip blood; the gate of the cloisters and the court beyond them are
full of ghosts trooping down into the night of hell; the sun is blotted
out of heaven, and a blighting gloom is over all the land.”
Thus did he speak, and they all of them laughed heartily. Eurymachus
then said, “This stranger who has lately come here has lost his senses.
Servants, turn him out into the streets, since he finds it so dark
here.”
But Theoclymenus said, “Eurymachus, you need not send any one with me.
I have eyes, ears, and a pair of feet of my own, to say nothing of an
understanding mind. I will take these out of the house with me, for I
see mischief overhanging you, from which not one of you men who are
insulting people and plotting ill deeds in the house of Ulysses will be
able to escape.”
He left the house as he spoke, and went back to Piraeus who gave him
welcome, but the suitors kept looking at one another and provoking
Telemachus by laughing at the strangers. One insolent fellow said to
him, “Telemachus, you are not happy in your guests; first you have this
importunate tramp, who comes begging bread and wine and has no skill
for work or for hard fighting, but is perfectly useless, and now here
is another fellow who is setting himself up as a prophet. Let me
persuade you, for it will be much better to put them on board ship and
send them off to the Sicels to sell for what they will bring.”
Telemachus gave him no heed, but sat silently watching his father,
expecting every moment that he would begin his attack upon the suitors.
Meanwhile the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, had had a rich seat
placed for her facing the court and cloisters, so that she could hear
what every one was saying. The dinner indeed had been prepared amid
much merriment; it had been both good and abundant, for they had
sacrificed many victims; but the supper was yet to come, and nothing
can be conceived more gruesome than the meal which a goddess and a
brave man were soon to lay before them—for they had brought their doom
upon themselves.
BOOK XXI
THE TRIAL OF THE AXES, DURING WHICH ULYSSES REVEALS HIMSELF TO EUMAEUS
AND PHILOETIUS
Minerva now put it in Penelope’s mind to make the suitors try their
skill with the bow and with the iron axes, in contest among themselves,
as a means of bringing about their destruction. She went upstairs and
got the store-room key, which was made of bronze and had a handle of
ivory; she then went with her maidens into the store-room at the end of
the house, where her husband’s treasures of gold, bronze, and wrought
iron were kept, and where was also his bow, and the quiver full of
deadly arrows that had been given him by a friend whom he had met in
Lacedaemon—Iphitus the son of Eurytus. The two fell in with one another
in Messene at the house of Ortilochus, where Ulysses was staying in
order to recover a debt that was owing from the whole people; for the
Messenians had carried off three hundred sheep from Ithaca, and had
sailed away with them and with their shepherds. In quest of these
Ulysses took a long journey while still quite young, for his father and
the other chieftains sent him on a mission to recover them. Iphitus had
gone there also to try and get back twelve brood mares that he had
lost, and the mule foals that were running with them. These mares were
the death of him in the end, for when he went to the house of Jove’s
son, mighty Hercules, who performed such prodigies of valour, Hercules
to his shame killed him, though he was his guest, for he feared not
heaven’s vengeance, nor yet respected his own table which he had set
before Iphitus, but killed him in spite of everything, and kept the
mares himself. It was when claiming these that Iphitus met Ulysses, and
gave him the bow which mighty Eurytus had been used to carry, and which
on his death had been left by him to his son. Ulysses gave him in
return a sword and a spear, and this was the beginning of a fast
friendship, although they never visited at one another’s houses, for
Jove’s son Hercules killed Iphitus ere they could do so. This bow,
then, given him by Iphitus, had not been taken with him by Ulysses when
he sailed for Troy; he had used it so long as he had been at home, but
had left it behind as having been a keepsake from a valued friend.
Penelope presently reached the oak threshold of the store-room; the
carpenter had planed this duly, and had drawn a line on it so as to get
it quite straight; he had then set the door posts into it and hung the
doors. She loosed the strap from the handle of the door, put in the
key, and drove it straight home to shoot back the bolts that held the
doors;161 these flew open with a noise like a bull bellowing in a
meadow, and Penelope stepped upon the raised platform, where the chests
stood in which the fair linen and clothes were laid by along with
fragrant herbs: reaching thence, she took down the bow with its bow
case from the peg on which it hung. She sat down with it on her knees,
weeping bitterly as she took the bow out of its case, and when her
tears had relieved her, she went to the cloister where the suitors
were, carrying the bow and the quiver, with the many deadly arrows that
were inside it. Along with her came her maidens, bearing a chest that
contained much iron and bronze which her husband had won as prizes.
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 with a maid on either side of her. Then she said:
“Listen to me you suitors, who persist in abusing the hospitality of
this house because its owner has been long absent, and without other
pretext than that you want to marry me; this, then, being the prize
that you are contending for, I will bring out the mighty bow of
Ulysses, and whomsoever of you shall string it most easily and send his
arrow through each one of twelve axes, him will I follow and quit this
house of my lawful husband, so goodly, and so abounding in wealth. But
even so I doubt not that I shall remember it in my dreams.”
As she spoke, she told Eumaeus to set the bow and the pieces of iron
before the suitors, and Eumaeus wept as he took them to do as she had
bidden him. Hard by, the stockman wept also when he saw his master’s
bow, but Antinous scolded them. “You country louts,” said he, “silly
simpletons; why should you add to the sorrows of your mistress by
crying in this way? She has enough to grieve her in the loss of her
husband; sit still, therefore, and eat your dinners in silence, or go
outside if you want to cry, and leave the bow behind you. We suitors
shall have to contend for it with might and main, for we shall find it
no light matter to string such a bow as this is. There is not a man of
us all who is such another as Ulysses; for I have seen him and remember
him, though I was then only a child.”
This was what he said, but all the time he was expecting to be able to
string the bow and shoot through the iron, whereas in fact he was to be
the first that should taste of the arrows from the hands of Ulysses,
whom he was dishonouring in his own house—egging the others on to do so
also.
Then Telemachus spoke. “Great heavens!” he exclaimed, “Jove must have
robbed me of my senses. Here is my dear and excellent mother saying she
will quit this house and marry again, yet I am laughing and enjoying
myself as though there were nothing happening. But, suitors, as the
contest has been agreed upon, let it go forward. It is for a woman
whose peer is not to be found in Pylos, Argos, or Mycene, nor yet in
Ithaca nor on the mainland. You know this as well as I do; what need
have I to speak in praise of my mother? Come on, then, make no excuses
for delay, but let us see whether you can string the bow or no. I too
will make trial of it, for if I can string it and shoot through the
iron, I shall not suffer my mother to quit this house with a stranger,
not if I can win the prizes which my father won before me.”
As he spoke he sprang from his seat, threw his crimson cloak from him,
and took his sword from his shoulder. First he set the axes in a row,
in a long groove which he had dug for them, and had made straight by
line.162 Then he stamped the earth tight round them, and everyone was
surprised when they saw him set them up so orderly, though he had never
seen anything of the kind before. This done, he went on to the pavement
to make trial of the bow; thrice did he tug at it, trying with all his
might to draw the string, and thrice he had to leave off, though he had
hoped to string the bow and shoot through the iron. He was trying for
the fourth time, and would have strung it had not Ulysses made a sign
to check him in spite of all his eagerness. So he said: