The Odyssey
house have misconducted themselves, and who are innocent.”176
“I will tell you the truth, my son,” answered Euryclea. “There are
fifty women in the house whom we teach to do things, such as carding
wool, and all kinds of household work. Of these, twelve in all177 have
misbehaved, and have been wanting in respect to me, and also to
Penelope. They showed no disrespect to Telemachus, for he has only
lately grown and his mother never permitted him to give orders to the
female servants; but let me go upstairs and tell your wife all that has
happened, for some god has been sending her to sleep.”
“Do not wake her yet,” answered Ulysses, “but tell the women who have
misconducted themselves to come to me.”
Euryclea left the cloister to tell the women, and make them come to
Ulysses; in the meantime he called Telemachus, the stockman, and the
swineherd. “Begin,” said he, “to remove the dead, and make the women
help you. Then, get sponges and clean water to swill down the tables
and seats. When you have thoroughly cleansed the whole cloisters, take
the women into the space between the domed room and the wall of the
outer court, and run them through with your swords till they are quite
dead, and have forgotten all about love and the way in which they used
to lie in secret with the suitors.”
On this the women came down in a body, weeping and wailing bitterly.
First they carried the dead bodies out, and propped them up against one
another in the gatehouse. Ulysses ordered them about and made them do
their work quickly, so they had to carry the bodies out. When they had
done this, they cleaned all the tables and seats with sponges and
water, while Telemachus and the two others shovelled up the blood and
dirt from the ground, and the women carried it all away and put it out
of doors. Then when they had made the whole place quite clean and
orderly, they took the women out and hemmed them in the narrow space
between the wall of the domed room and that of the yard, so that they
could not get away: and Telemachus said to the other two, “I shall not
let these women die a clean death, for they were insolent to me and my
mother, and used to sleep with the suitors.”
So saying he made a ship’s cable fast to one of the bearing-posts that
supported the roof of the domed room, and secured it all around the
building, at a good height, lest any of the women’s feet should touch
the ground; and as thrushes or doves beat against a net that has been
set for them in a thicket just as they were getting to their nest, and
a terrible fate awaits them, even so did the women have to put their
heads in nooses one after the other and die most miserably.178 Their
feet moved convulsively for a while, but not for very long.
As for Melanthius, they took him through the cloister into the inner
court. There they cut off his nose and his ears; they drew out his
vitals and gave them to the dogs raw, and then in their fury they cut
off his hands and his feet.
When they had done this they washed their hands and feet and went back
into the house, for all was now over; and Ulysses said to the dear old
nurse Euryclea, “Bring me sulphur, which cleanses all pollution, and
fetch fire also that I may burn it, and purify the cloisters. Go,
moreover, and tell Penelope to come here with her attendants, and also
all the maidservants that are in the house.”
“All that you have said is true,” answered Euryclea, “but let me bring
you some clean clothes—a shirt and cloak. Do not keep these rags on
your back any longer. It is not right.”
“First light me a fire,” replied Ulysses.
She brought the fire and sulphur, as he had bidden her, and Ulysses
thoroughly purified the cloisters and both the inner and outer courts.
Then she went inside to call the women and tell them what had happened;
whereon they came from their apartment with torches in their hands, and
pressed round Ulysses to embrace him, kissing his head and shoulders
and taking hold of his hands. It made him feel as if he should like to
weep, for he remembered every one of them.179
BOOK XXIII
PENELOPE EVENTUALLY RECOGNISES HER HUSBAND—EARLY IN THE MORNING
ULYSSES, TELEMACHUS, EUMAEUS, AND PHILOETIUS LEAVE THE TOWN.
Euryclea now went upstairs laughing to tell her mistress that her dear
husband had come home. Her aged knees became young again and her feet
were nimble for joy as she went up to her mistress and bent over her
head to speak to her. “Wake up Penelope, my dear child,” she exclaimed,
“and see with your own eyes something that you have been wanting this
long time past. Ulysses has at last indeed come home again, and has
killed the suitors who were giving so much trouble in his house, eating
up his estate and ill treating his son.”
“My good nurse,” answered Penelope, “you must be mad. The gods
sometimes send some very sensible people out of their minds, and make
foolish people become sensible. This is what they must have been doing
to you; for you always used to be a reasonable person. Why should you
thus mock me when I have trouble enough already—talking such nonsense,
and waking me up out of a sweet sleep that had taken possession of my
eyes and closed them? I have never slept so soundly from the day my
poor husband went to that city with the ill-omened name. Go back again
into the women’s room; if it had been any one else who had woke me up
to bring me such absurd news I should have sent her away with a severe
scolding. As it is your age shall protect you.”
“My dear child,” answered Euryclea, “I am not mocking you. It is quite
true as I tell you that Ulysses is come home again. He was the stranger
whom they all kept on treating so badly in the cloister. Telemachus
knew all the time that he was come back, but kept his father’s secret
that he might have his revenge on all these wicked people.”
Then Penelope sprang up from her couch, threw her arms round Euryclea,
and wept for joy. “But my dear nurse,” said she, “explain this to me;
if he has really come home as you say, how did he manage to overcome
the wicked suitors single handed, seeing what a number of them there
always were?”
“I was not there,” answered Euryclea, “and do not know; I only heard
them groaning while they were being killed. We sat crouching and
huddled up in a corner of the women’s room with the doors closed, till
your son came to fetch me because his father sent him. Then I found
Ulysses standing over the corpses that were lying on the ground all
round him, one on top of the other. You would have enjoyed it if you
could have seen him standing there all bespattered with blood and
filth, and looking just like a lion. But the corpses are now all piled
up in the gatehouse that is in the outer court, and Ulysses has lit a
great fire to purify the house with sulphur. He has sent me to call
you, so come with me that you may both be happy together after all; for
now at last the desire of your heart has been fulfilled; your husband
is come home to find both wife and son alive and well, and to take his
revenge in his own house on the suitors who behaved so badly to him.”
“My dear nurse,” said Penelope, “do not exult too confidently over all
this. You know how delighted every one would be to see Ulysses come
home—more particularly myself, and the son who has been born to both of
us; but what you tell me cannot be really true. It is some god who is
angry with the suitors for their great wickedness, and has made an end
of them; for they respected no man in the whole world, neither rich nor
poor, who came near them, and they have come to a bad end in
consequence of their iniquity; Ulysses is dead far away from the
Achaean land; he will never return home again.”
Then nurse Euryclea said, “My child, what are you talking about? but
you were all hard of belief and have made up your mind that your
husband is never coming, although he is in the house and by his own
fire side at this very moment. Besides I can give you another proof;
when I was washing him I perceived the scar which the wild boar gave
him, and I wanted to tell you about it, but in his wisdom he would not
let me, and clapped his hands over my mouth; so come with me and I will
make this bargain with you—if I am deceiving you, you may have me
killed by the most cruel death you can think of.”
“My dear nurse,” said Penelope, “however wise you may be you can hardly
fathom the counsels of the gods. Nevertheless, we will go in search of
my son, that I may see the corpses of the suitors, and the man who has
killed them.”
On this she came down from her upper room, and while doing so she
considered whether she should keep at a distance from her husband and
question him, or whether she should at once go up to him and embrace
him. When, however, she had crossed the stone floor of the cloister,
she sat down opposite Ulysses by the fire, against the wall at right
angles180 [to that by which she had entered], while Ulysses sat near
one of the bearing-posts, looking upon the ground, and waiting to see
what his brave wife would say to him when she saw him. For a long time
she sat silent and as one lost in amazement. At one moment she looked
him full in the face, but then again directly, she was misled by his
shabby clothes and failed to recognise him,181 till Telemachus began to
reproach her and said:
“Mother—but you are so hard that I cannot call you by such a name—why
do you keep away from my father in this way? Why do you not sit by his
side and begin talking to him and asking him questions? No other woman
could bear to keep away from her husband when he had come back to her
after twenty years of absence, and after having gone through so much;
but your heart always was as hard as a stone.”
Penelope answered, “My son, I am so lost in astonishment that I can
find no words in which either to ask questions or to answer them. I
cannot even look him straight in the face. Still, if he really is
Ulysses come back to his own home again, we shall get to understand one
another better by and by, for there are tokens with which we two are
alone acquainted, and which are hidden from all others.”
Ulysses smiled at this, and said to Telemachus, “Let your mother put me
to any proof she likes; she will make up her mind about it presently.
She rejects me for the moment and believes me to be somebody else,
because I am covered with dirt and have such bad clothes on; let us,
however, consider what we had better do next. When one man has killed
another—even though he was not one who would leave many friends to take
up his quarrel—the man who has killed him must still say good bye to
his friends and fly the country; whereas we have been killing the stay
of a whole town, and all the picked youth of Ithaca. I would have you
consider this matter.”
“Look to it yourself, father,” answered Telemachus, “for they say you
are the wisest counsellor in the world, and that there is no other
mortal man who can compare with you. We will follow you with right good
will, nor shall you find us fail you in so far as our strength holds
out.”
“I will say what I think will be best,” answered Ulysses. “First wash
and put your shirts on; tell the maids also to go to their own room and
dress; Phemius shall then strike up a dance tune on his lyre, so that
if people outside hear, or any of the neighbours, or some one going
along the street happens to notice it, they may think there is a
wedding in the house, and no rumours about the death of the suitors
will get about in the town, before we can escape to the woods upon my
own land. Once there, we will settle which of the courses heaven
vouchsafes us shall seem wisest.”
Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said. First they washed
and put their shirts on, while the women got ready. Then Phemius took