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  • Homer’s Odyssey Book II

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    Telemachus and Penelope

    When child of morn appeared, rosy-fingered dawn,
    The beloved son of Odysseus rose from his bed,
    And putting on his clothes, he placed his sharp sword by his shoulder,
    And he tied fine sandals beneath his shining feet,
    He got up and went from the inner chamber, to face him he resembled a god.
    Immediately he ordered clear-voiced heralds
    To herald the long-haired Achaean heads agora-ward.
    They heralded and they were very quickly gathered.
    And when they gathered and were assembled,
    He got up and went to the agora, and he held a copper lance in his palm.
    Not alone, but with him white dogs followed his steps.
    And upon him surely Athene poured out inhuman grace.
    And all the warriors gazed upon him when he came to them;
    He sat in the chair of his father, and the old men gave way.

    These men, then, the hero Aegyptius began to address,
    Who was bent with old age and knew countless things.
    And furthermore, his beloved son with godlike Odysseus
    Went to foal-rich Ilios in a hollow ship:
    The spearman, Antiphus; but the savage Cyclops killed him
    In a deep cave, and he was made the beast’s last supper.
    He had three others, one who consorted with the suitors,
    Eurynomus, and two ever had charge of their ancestral toils;
    But even so he did not forget the one, grieving and sorrowing.
    Shedding tears for him, he sat in assembly and spoke among them:
    “Hear me now, men of Ithaca, that I may speak:
    Not once has there been an assembly or a council
    Since noble Odysseus went in his hollow ship.
    Who now gathers us here? To whom has such need come,
    Whether of young men or to those who are earlier-born?
    Has he heard some message of an approaching army,
    Which he might clearly tell us, as soon as he learned of it?
    Or does he disclose or declare some other public concern?
    He seems noble to me, advantageous. For the man himself, may
    Zeus accomplish whatever good he should set his mind to design.”

    Thus he spoke and the beloved son of Odysseus rejoiced in his speech,
    And he did not sit any longer; he was eager to address them.
    He stood in the middle of the agora; and the herald Peisenor
    Put the staff in his hand, knowing that his schemes were astute.
    Then he spoke to the old man first, addressing him:
    “Old man, this man is not far off, you will soon know,
    It is I who gathered the host; and grief comes often to me.
    But I have not heard any message of an approaching army,
    Which I would clearly tell you, as soon as I learned of it,
    Nor do I disclose any other public concern, and announce it,
    But I there is a debt of my own, an evil which has fallen upon my house,
    Twofold: one, that my noble father has perished, who once among you
    Here was king, and he was like a kind father;
    And now in turn, and greater by far, that soon my entire house
    Will be completely shattered, my livelihood thoroughly destroyed.
    Suitors assail my mother, though she does not wish it,
    The very sons of men who are nobles in this place,
    Who have shrunk away from going to the house of her father,
    Icarius, so that he himself might dower his daughter,
    And give her to whom he might wish and comes to him favoured.
    But rather, coming to our household every day,
    Sacrificing cattle, and sheep, and fatted goats,
    They revel in great company and drink fiery wine
    Recklessly; much is wasted. For there is no man in charge
    Of the sort Odysseus was, to fend curse off from the house.
    We are not at all the sort to fend them off; and then surely
    We will be wretched, and inexperienced in might.
    Certainly I would defend myself, if the might were with me;
    For deeds no longer endurable have been wrought, and no longer nobly
    Is my house brought to naught. And you yourselves: feel some righteous anger!
    And have some respect for other people dwelling around you,
    Who inhabit your neighborhood; and shrink from the wrath of the gods,
    Lest, feeling anger at the wicked deeds, they turn to punishment.
    I pray both by Olympian Zeus and by Themis,
    Who both dissolves and convenes the assemblies of men;
    Hold off, my friends, and permit me, alone and by painful sorrow,
    To be worn away. Unless somehow, in some way, my noble father Odysseus
    Bearing ill-will did the well-greaved Achaeans harm,
    For which, to take revenge, bearing ill-will, you do me harm
    By spurring on these men. Indeed it would be more profitable to me
    Were you to consume my stores of wealth and cattle.
    If you were to eat it, there would also someday soon be payback.
    For I would repeat my claim throughout the town,
    Demanding back our wealth, until it was all repaid.
    But as it is you cast unprofitable pains upon my spirit.”

    Thus he spoke, angered, and he cast the staff to the earth,
    Letting tears burst forth, and compassion seized the entire host.
    Thereafter all others were silent, no one dared
    To answer Telemachus with bitter words;
    Antinous alone, answered him, saying:
    “Telemachus, braggart, unrestrained brute, how you speak,
    Shaming us, perhaps you wish to lay blame.
    But as for you, the Achaean suitors are not in any way culpable,
    But rather your beloved mother is, who knows well the cunning arts.
    For already it is the third year, and soon to be the fourth,
    In which she maltreats the heart in the breasts of Achaean men.
    She feeds the hopes of all, and promises each man,
    Sending out tidings; but her thoughts eagerly desire something else.
    Here is another trick she devises in her mind:
    Having set up a great loom in the hall, she weaves,
    Delicate and very large; and straightaway she speaks among us:

    ‘Boys, my suitors, since good Odysseus died,
    Tarry from urging on my wedding until I finish
    A length of cloth, lest my work be destroyed, woven in vain,
    For the burial of the hero, Laertes, for when
    The deletorious lot of death, bringing long sorrow, should put him down,
    So that no one  throughout the public of Achaean lands may resent me,
    Should he lie without a shroud, though he won much.’

    “Thus she spoke, and our heroic spirit complied.
    Thereupon during the day she weaved on the great loom,
    But at night she unwove it, with a torch set beside her.
    Thus for three years she escaped notice by trickery, and persuaded the Achaeans;
    But when the fourth year came and the seasons came on,
    Then indeed one of the women spoke, who knew with certainty,
    And we discovered her undoing the work on the splendid loom.
    Thus she finished it under compulsion, though she was not willing.
    This is how the suitors answer you, so that you may know
    Yourself, in your own heart, and all the Achaeans may know.
    So send away your mother, and order her to be married
    To whomever her father bids and is pleasing to her.
    And if she much longer yet grieves the sons of Achaean men,
    Understanding the things in her heart that Athene granted her in abundance,
    To have expertise in very beautiful works and the noble faculties,
    And the cunning arts, of a sort we have not anywhere heard of, not even of the ancients,
    Of those who were formerly the fair-haired Achaeans,
    Tyro, and Alcmene and also well-crowned Mycene;
    Not one of whom had perception alike to Penelope;
    But she did not perceive that this, at least, was ominous.—
    For, really, so long as they consume your livelihood and wealth,
    That’s how long she keeps this intent, this which presently
    The gods have placed in her breast; for herself, she creates a great
    Reputation, but for you, a want of much of your livelihood.
    And we shall not in any way go to our former toils,
    At least not until she is married to whomever of the Achaeans she might wish.”

    And in turn astute Telemachus addressed him in reply:
    “Antinous, it is not in any way permitted to drive out unwilling from her home
    She who gave birth, who raised me, and my father is on strange soils,
    Whether he lives or he is dead; it would be a misfortune for me to repay so much
    To Icarius, if I were willingly to send my mother away.
    For I would suffer misfortunes at the hands of her father, and others that the divinities
    Will grant, since my mother will invoke the loathsome Erinys,1
    If she leaves her house; and the righteous anger of mankind
    Will be mine. Thus I shall not ever say this thing.
    If, then, your own hearts are righteously angered,
    Then depart from my halls, prepare other feasts,
    Consuming your own wealth, alternating between each of your houses.
    But if it seems to you to be better and more agreeable,
    That you destroy the livelihood of a single man, without compensation,
    Then lay waste; and I shall call upon the gods, the eternal beings,
    And may Zeus, wherever he is, grant that works be done in requital;
    Since, unavenged, you would destroy my home from within.”

    1. For more on the Erinys, read my translation of Aeschylus’ Eumenides! ( http://metaphrastes.wordpress.com/category/aeschylus-eumenides/ )

    Thus spoke Telemachus, and to him thundering Zeus sent forth
    Two eagles to fly from the lofty heights of his mountain summit.
    And for a time they flew with blasts of wind,
    Close to each other, stretching their wings;
    But then they reached the middle of the many-voiced agora,
    Thereupon they wheeled about, flapping their fast-beating wings,
    They looked down on the heads of all, and they saw destruction in their eyes,
    Tearing with their claws about the cheek and throat
    They shot out the right-hand side, through their home and city.
    The men were astonished by the birds when their eyes looked upon them;
    They anxiously pondered in their hearts just what they intended to accomplish.
    And the aged hero spoke among these men, Halitherses
    Son of Mastor. For he alone surpassed his generation
    In understanding birds of omen and explaining what was fitting;
    Since he had a good understanding, he spoke among them and addressed the assembly:

    “Hear me now, men of Ithaca, so that I may speak:
    And I speak particularly to the suitors, to explain these things.
    For a great disaster is rolling toward them; for Odysseus shall not
    For long be far off from his loved ones, but is doubtless already
    Near and for these men he begets slaughter and doom,
    For them all; and for many others there will be misfortune,
    We who inhabit far-seen Ithaca. But long before that
    Let us ponder how we may put a stop to this; and these men here,
    Let them cease; for this too is very much more agreeable to them.
    For I do not prophesy inexperienced, but rather understanding quite well;
    Yes indeed, I say that everything came to pass for that man,
    Just as I was saying, when the Argives to Ilios
    Embarked, and with them went Odysseus, he of many counsels.
    I said that after he suffered many misfortunes, and all his companions perished,
    That unknown to all, on the twentieth anniversary
    He would come homeward; and indeed these things are now accomplished.”

    In turn, Eurymachus, child of Polybus, spoke against him:
    “Old man, come now and prophesy for your own young
    When you go home, lest they somehow suffer some misfortune in the future;
    These things, I am much better than you to prophesy.
    Many birds beneath the rays of the sun
    Come and go, and they are not all ominous; and Odysseus
    Has perished far away, as with him you too ought
    To waste away; then you would not harangue us so much with your prophesy,
    Nor would you permit Telemachus to be enraged in this way,
    In expectation of a gift for your house, which he would furnish.
    But I shall speak out to you, and it will be accomplished;
    Since you’ve seen many things long past, if you stir up
    The younger man, coaxing him with arguments to be severe,
    It will be more grievous, first of all, the man himself,
    And, in any case, he will not be able to do anything for the sake of these things;
    And as for you, old man, we shall impose a penalty, paying which
    Would grieve your heart; it will be grievous and painful.
    And I myself shall put it before him among everyone:
    Let him advise his mother to depart to her father’s;
    And they shall prepare a wedding and make ready wedding gifts,
    A great many, as many as befitting to accompany one’s own child.
    For until then I do not think that the sons of the Achaeans shall cease
    From their troublesome courtship, since we do not fear anything in any case,
    And especially not Telemachus, although he is very well spoken of,
    Nor shall we heed prophecy, old man, that which you
    mouth is futile, and you are hated even more.
    Your wealth, in turn, will have been wickedly devoured, nor shall it ever
    Be equaled, so long as she thwarts the Achaeans
    Their wedding; And we in turn, in expectation every day,
    Compete for the sake of her virtue, and after no other woman
    Do we go, whom it is suitable for each man to marry.”

    And Telemachus in turn addressed him in reply:
    “Eurymachus and others, too, as many illustrious suitors as there are,
    I no longer entreat you for these things, nor do I address you;
    For the gods already know these things, and so do all the Achaeans.
    But come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions,
    Who would make a journey with me, hither and thither.
    For I will go to Sparta and to sandy Pylos,
    Enquiring after the homecoming of my long-departed father,
    Whether someone of mortals tells me, or I hear a rumour
    From Zeus, which often brings news to mankind.
    If, then, I hear of the life and homecoming of my Father,
    Though I may weary, I shall endure for a year;
    But if I hear that he has died and he is no more,
    After I come home to the beloved soil of my homeland
    I shall construct a burial mound for his body, and bury him with due honours, with funeral gifts,
    A great many, as many as is befitting, and I shall give my mother to a husband.”

    And so you see, having spoken thus he sat right down, and among them stood
    Mentor, who had been a companion of blameless Odysseus,
    And to him, when he went in his ship, he entrusted the entire house,
    To be obedient to the old man and steadfastedly to guard everything;
    And he spoke among them and addressed them with good sense:
    “Hear me now, men of Ithaca, so that I may speak;
    Let no longer any gracious, kind, and gentle man be
    The sceptered king, nor one knowing in his mind what is meet with the gods,
    But rather may he ever be grievous and do what is ungodly,
    Since no one remembers saintly Odysseus,
    Not one of the peoples over whom he ruled, like a gentle father.
    But I certainly do not in any way begrudge the arrogant suitors
    To do violent deeds by the ill contrivances of their minds;
    For having risked their own heads, they violently consumed
    The house of Odysseus, whom they say is no longer to come home.
    But presently I am indignant at another group, how you all
    Sit silently, not in any way accosting them with words,
    Do you restrain the suitors, small in numbers, though you are many.”

    And the son of Euenor, Leocritus, addressed him in reply:
    “Mentor troublemaker, crazy-hearted, how you speak
    To us, urging us to desist. It is vexsome
    To fight against men, and a greater number, about a feast.
    For if indeed Odysseus himself, coming to Ithaca,
    Eagerly desires in his heart to drive out from his halls
    The illustrious suitors, feasting throughout his home,
    His wife would not rejoice, though craving dearly
    For him to come, but shamefully, he would meet his fate,
    Should he do battle with so many men; but you do not speak by what is right.
    But come, the people should disperse, each to his toils,
    And for him, Mentor and Halitherses will urge on the journey,
    Who, from the beginning, were companions of his father.
    Otherwise, I think, by sitting so long he will learn
    Of tidings in Ithaca, and he will never complete this journey.”

    Thus he gave utterance, and they dissolved the assembly in haste.
    And they dispersed, each to their own homes,
    And the suitors went to the house of noble Odysseus.

    And Telemachus, going off a ways to the shore of the sea,
    And washing his hands in the salty grey, he prayed to Athene:
    “Hear me, god who yesterday came to my house
    And you bid me in a ship upon the cloudy sea,
    For inquiry after the homecoming of my long departed father,
    To go. The Achaeans waste everything,
    The suitors most of all, being wickedly overbearing.”

    Thus he spoke, praying, and Athene came to him from nearby,
    Seeming like Mentor both in form and voice,
    And speaking to him, she addressed him with winged words:
    “Telemachus, hereafter you shall neither be weak nor ignorant;
    If indeed the noble passion of your father has been instilled in you,
    That man who was able to accomplish both word and deed,
    For you, then, neither fruitless shall the journey be, nor unaccomplished.
    But if you are not the issue of that man and Penelope,
    Then I have no cause to hope that you will accomplish what you eagerly desire.
    For few children become like their father,
    Most are worse, few are braver than the father.
    But since you will hereafter be neither ignorant nor weak,
    And the cunning of Odysseus has not abandoned you, at least not altogether,
    There is certainly hope, then, that you will accomplish these deeds.
    For now, therefore, permit the plan and intent of the suitors,
    Insensate men, although they are not in any way thoughtful nor righteous.
    Nor do they in any way understand death and black doom,
    Though it draws near to them to be destroyed, all on the same day.
    The path you so eagerly desire is no longer long away;
    Such a hereditary companion am I for you,
    Who will rig a swift ship for you and will follow you myself.
    But go now to your home and consort with the suitors,
    Make provisions, and give everyone drink with vessels,
    Wine in amphorae and barley, the marrow of men,
    In watertight skins; and I from throughout your house shall gather
    Companions, volunteers. There are ships,
    Many of them, in sea-girt Ithaca, both new ones and old;
    Of those I shall inspect for you which one is best,
    Swiftly preparing, we shall plunge into the vast sea.”

    Thus spoke Athenaia, daughter of Zeus; nor any longer did
    Telemachus tarry, when he heard the voice of the god.
    He got up and went to his house, sorrowing in his very heart,
    And he found the suitors in his halls
    Skinning goats and singeing fat hogs in the courtyard.
    And Antinous came straightaway, making mockery of Telemachus;
    He put a hand in his, and spoke a word, and called him out by name:
    “Telemachus, braggart, unrestrained brute, let not any other
    Evil be cared for in your heart, neither word nor deed,
    But rather more to eating and drinking, like it was before.
    The Achaeans will bring to pass all these things especially,
    A ship and chosen rowers, so that you may quickly reach
    Most holy Pylos after report of your illustrious father.”

    And in turn astute Telemachus addressed him in reply:
    “Antinous, it is not in any way possible among you arrogant men
    For me to be feasted silently and to make merry at my ease.
    Is it not enough that you formerly ravaged my possessions,
    Abundant and good, and I was yet an infant?
    And now when I am mighty, and listening to the words of other men,
    I am learning, and indeed my spirit increases within me,
    I will endeavour that I might cast you to terrible doom,
    Whether after I have gone to Pylos, or here among my own people,
    I shall go—and the journey which I propose will not be fruitless—
    As a passenger; for in possession of neither a ship nor rowers
    Am I; thus, then, this somehow seemed to be more profitable for you.”

    So he was, and he pulled his hand from the hand of Antinous,
    Easily; and the suitors throughout the house toiled at the feast.
    And they mocked and taunted him with words;
    Thus did one of the overbearing young men say:
    “Telemachus much mulls over our slaughter, doesn’t he!
    Maybe he will bring some defenders from sandy Pylos,
    Or even from Sparta, since he is so terribly eager;
    Or perhaps he wishes to Ephyra, with its fertile fields,
    To go, so that he might inject some life-destroying drug,
    Put it in our cups and kill us all.”

    And in turn another of the arrogant young men spoke:
    “Does anyone know if he himself, also going by hollow ship,
    Will perish far from his family while wandering, just like Odysseus?
    For he would thus be especially indebted to us for toil;
    For we would divide up all his goods amongst ourselves, and his house in turn
    We would give to his mother to have and whoever might marry her.”

    Thus they spoke; and he went down to his father’s high-ceilinged room,
    A large room, where heaped up  gold and copper lay,
    And clothing in coffers, and fragrant olive oil in abundance.
    And in large jugs of aged, sweet-tasting wine,
    They stood, holding the divine, unmixed drink within,
    All in a row against the wall, closely packed, if ever Odysseus
    Returned homeward, though he suffered many hardships.
    Closeable planks sat upon them, stoutly-fitted,
    Double-folding; a woman, a housekeeper day and night
    Was there, who guarded all of it with great keen-ness of mind,
    Eurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor.
    To her, then, Telemachus spoke, after he summoned her to the room:

    “Old mother, come, draw me wine into amphorae,
    The sweet one, which is the most pleasant to taste after that which you guard,
    You, thinking about that ill-fated man, whether he might come from somewhere,
    Odysseus, sprung from Zeus, having avoided death and doom.
    Fill up twelve and fasten them all with lids.
    Pour barley for me into well-stitched leather sacks;
    Let there be twenty measures of mill-ground corn barley.
    Let you alone know of this; let everything be prepared in a pile.
    In the evening I will take it, whenever
    Mother goes to the upper rooms, with her mind on her bed.
    For I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos
    To learn of the homecoming of my beloved father, if I can somehow hear of it.”

    Thus he spoke, and his beloved nurse Eurycleia wailed,
    And lamenting she spoke winged words:
    “Why oh why, my dear child, has this thought in your head
    Come to be? Why do you wish to go to a distant soil
    When you are an only child, and loved? Odysseus, sprung from Zeus,
    Has perished far from his homeland, in an unknown country.
    And the men, when you go, will contrive misfortunes for you hereafter,
    So that you may decline by their treachery, and they may divide all this amongst themselves.
    Instead, seated here in your own hall: there is no need for you
    To suffer misfortunes on the barren sea, nor to roam.”

    Astute Telemachus in turn addressed her in reply:
    “Have courage, old mother, since I am not without god or at least counsel.
    But swear that you will not recount this to my beloved mother,
    At least not until the eleventh or twelfth day has passed,
    Or she herself yearns for me and hears from me after I have gone,
    So that she may not spoil her lovely skin by weeping.”

    Thus he spoke, and the old woman swore the great oath of the gods.
    And after she swore and completed the oath,
    Immediately thereafter, she drew wine into amphorae,
    And she poured barley into well-stitched leather sacks.
    And going to his house, Telemachus consorted with the suitors.

    Thereupon the goddess, shining-eyed Athene, conceived another plan:
    She looked like Telemachus and she went through the entire city,
    And standing beside each man, she said a word,
    She bid them to come together that evening on a swift ship.
    And furthermore, she asked Noemon, the resplendent son of Phronius,
    For the swift ship; he eagerly acquiesced.

    The sun sank and the all the streets darkened;
    And she drew the swift ship seaward at that time, and into it she placed
    All the weapons which well-oared ships always carried.
    She put it at the furthest reach of the harbour, the excellent companions in a crowd
    Gathered round; the goddess inspired each man.

    Thereupon the goddess, shining-eyed Athene, conceived another plan:
    She got up and went to the house of noble Odysseus;
    There, upon the suitors, she poured out sweet sleep,
    She smote the drinkers, striking out the goblets from their hands.
    They stirred throughout the city to sleep, and no longer there
    Sat still, since sleep fell upon their eyelids.
    And shining-eyed Athene said to Telemachus,
    After she summoned him from the well-situated hall,
    Appearing like Mentor, in both form and voice:
    “Telemachus, already well-greaved companions
    Sit at the oars for you, awaiting your departure;
    But let us go, and let us not put off the journey for long.”

    Having spoken thus, Pallas Athene led
    Swiftly; and he then went in the footsteps of the god.
    And then he went down to the sea and upon the ship,
    And he found there, on the beach, long-haired heads, companions.
    And the sacred might of Telemachus spoke among them:
    “Come, my friends, let us bring provisions, for already all
    Are piled in my hall. And my mother has not learned in any way,
    Nor any of the bondswoman, one alone has gotten word.”

    Having spoken thus, he led and, truly, they followed with.
    And bringing everything, in the well-decked ship
    They laid it down, as the beloved son of Odysseus bid them.
    Telemachus stepped on the ship, but Athene was first,
    She sat down at the ship stern, and near her
    Sat Telemachus. She loosed [the ties] from the stern,
    And the rest, going aboard, sat at the rowing benches.
    For them shining-eyed Athene sent a favourable, fair wind,
    Strong-blowing Zephrus, sounding over the wine-dark sea.
    And Telemachus ordered the companions, encouraging them
    To fasten on their weapons, and they surely heard him encouraging them.
    The pine-wood mast, from within the curved tie-beams,
    Lifting it, they stood it up, and they tied it down with the forestays,
    And they pulled the white sail with well-twisted ox-hide ropes.
    Wind inflated the belly of the sail, and a wave around
    The keel of the ship, heaving, resounded greatly as it moved;
    It ran, making its path across the wave.
    After they tied their weapons throughout the ship, swift and black,
    They stood up mixing bowls filled with wine,
    And they poured libations for the undying gods, everlasting,
    But of them all, especially for the shining-eyed daughter of Zeus.
    And all night long and also in the dawn, the ship ran through its course.

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  • Homer’s Odyssey Book I

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    Telemachus and Mentes (Spoiler alert: it’s Athene)

    Tell me of a man, o Muse, a resourceful man, who was very much
    Driven about, after he sacked the sacred city of Troy;
    Of many men, he saw their city and knew their mind,
    And he, at least, suffered upon the sea many pains against his heart,
    Striving for his own life and the homecoming of his companions.
    But he did not thus safeguard his companions, although he was eager;
    For they by their own recklessness destroyed themselves,
    Foolish men, who upon the cattle of Helios on High
    Did feed; and he took from them their day of homecoming.
    Of these things, from some point, goddess daughter of Zeus, tell us as well.

    Thereupon all others, as many as fled the sheer destruction,
    Were home, having escaped both war and sea,
    And he alone, though he longed for both his homecoming and his wife,
    A nymph, the lady Calypso detained him, worthiest of the goddesses,
    In hollow caves, anxious for him to be her husband.
    But when the year finally came, the annual cycles going round,
    In which the gods spun the thread of his fate to proceed homeward
    To Ithaca, though not even there was he freed of struggles,
    And among those who were his friends. And all the gods pitied him
    Apart from Poseidon; he continued to be enraged
    At godlike Odysseus before he reached his own soil.
    But now Poseidon quested after the far-off Ethiopians,
    The Ethiopians, the furthest of men, who are divided in two,
    Some at the setting of he on High, the others at his rising,
    He left to accept a great sacrifice of bulls and rams.
    Hither he was satiated, sitting beside the god’s portion; but the others
    Were all together in the palace of Zeus Olympias.
    To them the father of men and gods was beginning a speech;
    He brought to mind, in accordance with his heart, blameless Aegisthus,
    Whom, indeed, renowned Orestes Agamemnon-son killed;
    Making mention of him, he addressed the undying;
    “Look at this! To think that mortals cast blame on gods.
    For they say that misfortunes are from us; but they also themselves
    By their own recklessness bear hardships beyond their allotment,
    Just as even now, Aegisthus, beyond his portion, married
    The wedded wife of Atreides, whom he killed upon his return home,
    Although aware of sheer destruction; since we told him in advance,
    Sending Hermes, sharp-eyed Argus-slayer,
    Neither to kill him nor to court his wife;
    For there will be vengeance from Orestes of Atreides,
    When he reaches manhood and longs for his land.
    Thus spoke Hermes, but he did not the mind of Aegisthus
    Persuade, though he counselled the good; and now he pays the whole price all at once.”

    The goddess answered him then, shining-eyed Athene:
    “Father mine, son of Cronus, highest of rulers,
    Quite surely that man, at least, lies in befitting destruction;
    Likewise may whoever else who does such things be destroyed.
    But for me, my heart is divided in two for skilled Odysseus,
    Ill-fated, who indeed has long suffered miseries away from his family
    On a sea-girt island, where lies the navel of the sea.
    A forested island, and on it the goddess inhabits her palace,
    The daughter of mischievous Atlas, who knows
    Of all the sea its depths, and he bears, too, the tall
    Pillars, which hold between heaven and earth.
    His daughter detains the wretched man, who laments,
    And ever with wheedling, conciliatory words
    She beguiles, so that he might forget Ithaca; but Odysseus,
    Eager even to observe the rising smoke
    Of his land, longs to die. But, then, your heart
    Does not much regard a friend, Olympian. Or was not Odysseus,
    With the ships of the Argives pleasing, making sacrifices
    In far-reaching Troy? Why, indeed, are you so angry at him, Zeus?”

    Zeus cloud-gatherer, making reply, addressed her:
    “My child, what a speech that escapes the fence of your teeth!
    How, then, would I fail to note divine Odysseus,
    Who of mortals excels in mind, and gives excess sacrifices
    To the undying gods, they who hold the spacious sky?
    But earth-encircling Poseidon ever unceasingly
    Has been angered on behalf of the Cyclops, whose eye was blinded,
    God-like Polyphemus, whose might is greatest
    Of all the Cyclopes; The nymph, Thousa, gave birth to him,
    Daughter of Phorcys, a ruler of the barren sea,
    After she had intercourse with Poseidon in a hollow cave.
    For this Poseidon earth-shaker did Odysseus
    Not in any way kill, but drove him from the soil of his father.
    But come, let all of us here deliberate concerning
    His homecoming, so that he may come; and Poseidon will yield
    His wrath; for he will not at all be able, against all
    The undying, to contend alone against the will of gods.”

    And then the shining-eyed goddess, Athene, answered him:
    “Father mine, son of Cronus, highest of rulers,
    If indeed this is now favoured by the blessed gods,
    That ingenious Odysseus return to his home,
    Then Hermes, your minister, Argus-slayer,
    Let us spur him on to the island, Ogygia, so that he may most swiftly
    Tell our unerring counsel to the fair-haired nymph,
    The homecoming of stout-hearted Odysseus, that he might return.
    And I shall go to Ithaca, so that I might better
    Urge on his son, and put a passion in his mind,
    Summoning the long-haired Achaean heads to the agora,
    To speak out against all the suitors, who ever his
    Fatted sheep do slaughter, and his lumbering, curve-horned cattle.
    And I shall send him to Sparta and to sandy Pylos,
    To enquire into the homecoming of his beloved father, if he might hear of it somewhere,
    And so that he might have a noble repute among men.”

    Having thus spoken, she bound upon her feet fine sandals,
    Golden, divine, that carry her both on the flowing water
    And on the boundless earth as a blast of wind.
    And she took her sturdy lance, sharpened keen with copper,
    Heavy, mighty, strong, with which she subdues the ranks of men,
    Of heroes, against whomever the daughter of mighty sire bears anger.
    She went down from Olympus, shooting out from the peaks,
    And she stands in the house of Odysseus of Ithaca, at the front-door
    Of the threshold of the courtyard; she held her copper lance in her palm,
    Appearing like a foreign guest, like the leader of the Taphians, Mentes.
    She found the arrogant suitors. They thereupon
    Turned their hearts to gaming stones in front of the doors,
    Seated upon the hides of cattle, which they themselves had killed:
    And they had heralds, and busy attendants,
    Some who mixed wine and water in mixing bowls,
    Others in turn who, with porous sponges, washed
    The tables and set them out, and others divvied out much meat.

    Godlike Telemachus was first by far to see her,
    For he was sitting amidst the suitors, his own heart grieved,
    Keeping his noble father in mind, if coming from somewhere
    He should make a route of the suitors here, throughout the palace,
    And he might have payment and over his possessions be master.
    He was thinking of this, sitting amongst the suitors, when he saw Athene.
    He went straight to the gate of the courtyard, feeling indignation in his heart
    That a guest stood so long at the door; and standing near,
    He took her right hand and received her copper lance,
    And he addressed her, speaking feathered words:
    “Welcome, my guest, among us you will be loved; and once
    You have partaken of a meal, you will tell of any need you have.”

    Speaking thus, he led her, and Pallas Athene followed.
    And when they were well within the lofty hall,
    He placed the lance he carried to the tall support
    Of the well-crafted spear-rack within, where the many
    Other spears of stout-hearted Odysseus were placed,
    And leading her to a chair he made her to sit, spreading a cloth under her,
    Fine and curiously wrought; and there was a stool underneath for her feet.
    He placed a finely-wrought divan alongside, apart from the other
    Suitors, lest his guest, vexed by the din,
    Be not sated by his meal, being amidst inconsiderate men,
    And so that he might question him concerning his departed father.

    An attendant bearing clean water in a washing bowl, fine, golden,
    Poured it over his hands, over a silver basin,
    To wash his hands; she arranged a polished table alongside.
    An honored housekeeper bearing bread, placed it before him,
    She placed also a great variety of food, pleasing him with what was available;
    A meat carver who fetched a platter of meat of all kinds
    Set it before him, he brought golden cups to them,
    And a herald visited them often, pouring wine.

    To them came the macho suitors. And then they
    Sat themselves, one after the other, on chairs and divans.
    For them, heralds poured water over their hands,
    Bondswomen piled up bread in bread-baskets alongside,
    And young boys filled vessels to the brim with drink.
    And they stretched their hands to what was set before them, at the ready for good cheer.
    But when they were rid of their desire for food and drink,
    The suitors, who had in mind care for other things,
    Sport and dance; for these were the accompaniment of a meal.
    And a herald put a fine cithara in the hands
    Of Phemius, who sang for the suitors under compulsion.
    Indeed, playing the lyre, he started to sing a fine song,
    And Telemachus spoke to shining-eyed Athene,
    Holding his head close, so that others might not hear:

    “My dear guest, in truth will you be offended at me if I should speak to you?
    These things concern these sorts of men, the cithara and song.
    It’s easy, since they consume the livelihood of another without compensation,
    That of a man whose shining bones rot somewhere in the rain
    Either lying on land, or a wave rolls them in the sea.
    If they were to see that man come home to Ithaca,
    They all would pray to be swifter of foot
    Than richer in gold and raiment.
    But as it is, since he has been destroyed, a wicked fate, and for us there is no
    Warmth, even if someone of earth-dwelling men
    should say that he comes; the day of his homecoming is gone.
    But come, tell me this and speak it straight:
    What family are you from? What city and parents are yours?
    And you have come on a ship of some kind; How did sailors
    Bring you to Ithaca? Who did they boast to be?
    For, indeed, I do not believe that you came here on foot.
    And orate to me the real, so that I might know well,
    Whether you are new among us, or you are a guest
    Of my father’s, since many other men arrived at our
    House, when that man still walked among the living.”

    And in reply, shining-eyed Athene said to him:
    “So then, I shall address this to you with especial accuracy.
    I boast to be Mentes, of skilled Anchialus
    The son, and I am the ruler of the oar-loving Taphians.
    And presently I have thus come down here by ship with my companions,
    sailing upon the wine-dark sea to people of other tongues,
    To Temesa after copper, and I bring gleaming iron.
    And my ship sits upon the shore of a far-off city,
    In Reithron harbour, beneath forested Neius.
    We declare each other to be guests of our fathers
    From the beginning, if indeed you were to go and ask the old man,
    The warrior Laertes, who they say no longer comes
    To the city, but rather suffers woes upon a distant shore
    With his old handmaiden, who sets before him
    Food and drink, whenever toil seizes him in his limbs,
    the broken man crawling up the swell of the vine-bearing orchard.
    And now I came; for indeed they said he was among his own people,
    your father; but now the gods strike him from his course.
    For godlike Odysseus does not lie dead on the ground somewhere,
    But rather doubtless living still, he is held back by the wide sea,
    On a sea-girt island, and grievous men hold him,
    Savages, who somehow restrain him, unwilling.
    But now I will foretell to you, as in my heart
    The Undying cast it, and as I know it will be fulfilled,
    Although I am neither at all a seer, nor do I know it clearly from birds of omen.
    Not much longer indeed from the beloved earth of his father
    Shall he be, not even if iron bonds hold him;
    He devises how he might return home, since he is resourceful.
    But come, tell me this and speak it straight,
    If a one such as you is indeed the son of this man, Odysseus.
    With respect to your head and beautiful eyes, you do seem strikingly alike
    To that man, since we often met with each other,
    Before he embarked for Troy, where indeed the others,
    The best men of the Argives went in hollow ship;
    From that point neither have I seen Odysseus nor he me.”

    Astute Telemachus, in turn, said to him in reply:
    “Indeed I too shall address you, my guest, with especial accuracy.
    My mother tells me that I am his, but I
    Do not know; for no one, I suppose, recognizes his parentage himself.
    As indeed I, at least, would that I were the son of some fortunate
    man, whom old age had overtaken when he had charge of his wealth.
    But as it is, he who if the most ill-fated of mortal beings,
    of this man, they say I am born, since you ask me this.”

    The shining-eyed goddess Athene said to him in return:
    “The gods did not set an undistinguished heritage for you
    Hereafter, since Penelope gave birth to such as you.
    But come, tell me this and say it straight:
    What feast, what throng is this? What is your need?
    A banquet or wedding? Since this, at least, is no potluck.
    For these insolent men seem to me to partake
    Inconsiderately throughout the palace. Any man would be offended
    To see so much insult, at least any sensible man who should come among them.”

    Astute Telemachus in turn said to her:
    “My guest, since you fastened to me and asked after these things,
    This house was once destined to be wealthy and blameless,
    So long as that man was yet among his own;
    But now, the gods will differently, contriving misfortunes,
    Who put that man unseen, above all other
    Men, since I would not even mourn thus for him for having died,
    If among his companions he was overcome in the land of the Trojans,
    Or in the arms of his family, after he wound up the war.
    For him all the Achaeans would have made a tomb,
    And moreover, they would have carried back great renown for his child.
    But as it is, the Hurricanes have fed on him ignominiously;
    He departed unseen, unsung, and to me he has bequeathed
    Grief and sorrow; nor in any way, mourning do I lament that man
    Alone, since now, for me, the gods have wrought other, foul misfortunes.
    For, as many nobles as rule over the islands,
    Doulicheum and Same and wooded Zacynthus,
    And as many lords there are throughout rocky Ithaca,
    That’s how many court my mother, and consume our house.
    And she, neither refuses hated marriage nor is she able
    To make an end of it; Indeed, by eating, they lay waste
    To my house; soon they will destroy it, and me as well.”

    And Pallas Athena, full of wrath, addressed him:
    “Shocking! Indeed for departed Odysseus, you have great
    Need, who would strike his fists against the shameless suitors.
    For if he now came home and at his front gates
    Stood, bearing his helmet and shield and a pair of spears,
    If he were as much the man as I understood him to be in former times,
    Drinking and making merry in our house,
    Returned from Ephyra, from the house of Ilus, son of Mermesus;
    For Odysseus departed also for that place upon his swift ship
    Seeking a man-slaying drug, so that he might have it
    To anoint his bronze-tipped arrows; but Ilus did not to him
    Give it, since he stood in awe of the gods, eternal beings,
    But my father gave it to him; for he held him strangely dear.
    Being such a man, Odysseus would join battle with the suitors;
    And they would all be quick to die and bitterly wedded.
    But, indeed, these things lie in the lap of the gods,
    Whether, returning home, he will exact payment, or not,
    In his halls; and I urge you to consider
    How you would drive out the suitors from the halls.
    Come now, take note and pay heed to my words:
    Tomorrow, after you call the Achaean warriors into the agora,
    To them all say this, and let the gods be there as witnesses.
    Bid the suitors to be dispersed to their own places,
    And your mother, if her heart is stirred to be married,
    Let her go back to the hall of your greatly capable father;
    And they will prepare a wedding and get together wedding gifts,
    A great many, too, as many as is befitting to go with a beloved child.
    And you yourself, I shall advise you shrewdly, if you will obey:
    After you have equipped a ship for twenty rowers, your best one,
    Go to enquire after your long departed father,
    If anyone of mortal men would tell you, or you hear a rumour
    From Zeus, which most often bears report to people.
    Go first to Pylos and speak to noble Nestor,
    Then Sparta-ward to fair-haired Menelaus;
    For he came last of the bronze-clad Achaeans.
    If, then, you hear of the life of your father and his homecoming,
    Or, although you will be wearied, you should yet endure a year;
    But if you hear that he has died, and he is no more,
    After you come home thereafter, to the beloved soil of your father
    Construct a burial mound for his body, and bury him with due honours, with funeral gifts,
    A great many, as many as are befitting, and give your mother to a husband.
    And when you finish that and accomplish it,
    Consider then in accordance with your heart and mind
    How the suitors in your halls you might
    Slay whether by trickery or openly; for there is no need for you
    To cling to childishness, since you are no longer so young.
    Or have you not heard what fame noble Orestes acquired
    Among all people, when he killed the father-killer,
    Wily Aegisthus, who killed his famous father?
    And you, dear friend, I see that you are especially good and mighty,
    Be brave, so that any of the next generation may speak well of you.
    But I shall now return to my swift ship
    And my companions, who are doubtless vexed to wait so long;
    Let it be your own concern, and heed my words.”

    And again wise Telemachus spoke in reply to her:
    “My guest, you have spoken with understanding on things dear to me,
    Like a father to a son, nor shall I soon forget them.
    But come, tarry a while, though eager for your journey,
    So that after you have bathed and your heart has taken pleasure
    You may go to your ship bearing gifts, rejoicing in your heart,
    A prized thing, very fine, it will be a keepsake for you
    From me, just as beloved hosts give to their guests.”

    And then the shining-eyed goddess Athene replied to him:
    “Do not keep me any longer now, since I do indeed long to be on my way.
    The gift which your very heart bids you to give to me,
    Give to me when I return again to carry homeward,
    And you can choose one especially fine; it will be worthy of one in return for you.”

    Having spoken thus, shining-eyed Athene then departed,
    And she flew out, upward like a bird; and in his heart
    She placed passion and courage, and she made him think of his father
    More still than before. And turning it over in his mind,
    He was amazed to the depths of his heart; for he knew her to be a god.
    And straightaway that god-like hero went ‘round the suitors.
    To them sang a renowned bard, and they in silence
    Sat idle, listening; he sang of the Achaeans, their homecoming,
    Pitiable, which Pallas Athene ordained from Troy.

    From an upper room she perceived in her mind the lay of the singer,
    The daughter of Icarius, sagacious Penelope.
    She descended the lofty stair of her house,
    Not alone, but two attendants followed along with her.
    And when she reached the suitors, divine among women,
    And she stood by the pillar of the thick-built hall,
    With a shining head-dress against her cheeks;
    A trusted attendant stood by her on either side.
    Then, though she wept, she addressed the godlike bard:
    Phemius, indeed you know many other spells of mortals,
    The deeds of men and gods both, which bards celebrate;
    Sing one of these while you sit beside those who silently
    Drink their wine; cease this song
    So mournful, which ever the very heart within my breast
    Do distress, since inconsolable sorrow much assails me.
    For I desire a such a head, always remembering
    A man, whose fame is wide throughout Hellas and middle Argus.”

    And astute Telemachus addressed her in reply:
    “My dear mother, why do you begrudge the loyal bard
    To entertain in whatever way his mind inspires him? For the bards are not
    Responsible, but Zeus somewhere is responsible, who gives
    To enterprising men however he wishes to each.
    There is no retribution for this man to sing of the evil fate of the Danaans;
    For people extol this song more
    Which is the newest that floats around the listeners.
    Let your heart and mind venture to listen;
    For not only Odysseus lost his day of homecoming
    At Troy, but many other men perishedk.
    But go to your chambers and attend to your own tasks,
    The loom and distaff, and bid your attendants
    To ply their work; counsel will be the concern for men
    All of them, especially for myself; for power is his in the household.”

    And she went back to her chamber astonished;
    For she took the astute speech of her son to heart.
    Going up to the upper parts with her women, her attendants,
    She lamented then for Odysseus, her beloved husband until sweet
    Sleep upon her eyelids shining-eyed Athene did cast.

    The suitors made a loud din throughout the shadowy hall;
    They all prayed to lie beside her in the marriage-bed.
    To them astute Telemachus began this speech:
    “Suitors of my mother, who are so wantonly insolent,
    Let us now take pleasure in feasting, and let there not be
    A clamour, since it is a fine thing to listen to a singer
    Of the sort that this man here is, like the gods, his voice.
    And at dawn let us all go to the Assembly and take our
    Seats, so that I might make a speech for you without concern for consequences,
    To send you out from my halls, and you, prepare other feasts,
    Consuming your own wealth, taking turns from house to house.
    But if this seems to you to be better and more agreeable,
    That the livelihood of one man be destroyed unavenged,
    Then do ravage; but I shall call upon the gods who live eternal,
    And may Zeus at some point grant that your deeds be avenged.;
    That you be destroyed, unavenged, from within my house.”

    Thus he spoke, and they all bit their lips with their teeth,
    Amazed at Telemachus, who addressed them so boldly.

    And Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke to him in reply:
    “Telemachus, either the gods themselves much instruct you
    To be a braggart and address us so boldly;
    May the son of Cronus not make you a king in sea-girt
    Ithaca, which is your patrimony by birth.”

    And astute Telemachus in turn addressed him in reply:
    “Antinous, even if you feel jealous of me that I would speak,
    I too would wish to win this, at least if Zeus should grant it.
    Or would you say this is the worst thing to have been accomplished among men?
    For it is no evil thing to be a king; all of a sudden one’s house
    Becomes wealthy and oneself more honoured.
    But indeed there are other kings of the Achaeans,
    Many in sea-girt Ithaca, new ones and those of old,
    And any of them would have this, when noble Odysseus died;
    But I shall be master of my own household
    And its servants, which noble Odysseus won for me as booty.”

    Then in turn Eurymachus, child of Polybus, said in response:
    “Telemachus, in truth this lies in the lap of the gods,
    Whoever will be king of the Achaeans in sea-girt Ithaca;
    May you yourself keep your wealth and be master in your own household.
    May that man not come who would by force against your will
    Bereave you of your possessions while Ithaca exists.
    But I wish, Sir, to ask about your guest,
    Where this man is from, what land he professes to be from,
    Where the arable land of his father and kin lies;
    Was he bearing any tidings the goings of your father,
    Or did he come here chasing after duties of his own?
    How quickly he sprang up to depart, and did not stay behind
    To get to know us; for he did not seem like someone wicked on the face.”

    And astute Telemachus in turn addressed him in reply:
    “Eurymachus, in truth the homecoming of my father has been destroyed;
    Nor do I any longer trust tidings, wherever they might come from,
    Nor do I pay attention to prophecy, which my mother
    Inquires after, having summoned an oracle-messenger to the hall.
    This man, my guest, a friend the family, is from Taphus,
    He professes to be Mentes, of battle-tested Anchialus
    The son, and he is lord over the oar-loving Taphians.”

    Thus spoke Telemachus though he knew in his heart it was an undying god.
    And they to the dance and the charming song
    Turning their attention, took their pleasure, they stayed for evening to come.
    And to those taking their pleasure the black night came;
    Then they went each to their chamber to lie down.
    And Telemachus, where an inner chamber of the very beautiful hall,
    Was built on high, in a conspicuous spot,
    There he went to bed, many things on his mind worrying him.
    Beside him, Eurycleia, daughter of Ops of Peisenor,
    Trusty and knowing, bore a burning torch for him,
    Whom Laertes once purchased with his wealth,
    When she was yet in her prime, he gave twenty oxen worth,
    He valued her equal to his loyal bedmate in his halls.
    But he did not once couple in her bed, and he avoided the wrath of his wife;
    She bore a burning torch beside him, and she especially
    Of the captured slave-women1 was fond of him, she had raised him when he was little.
    He opened the door of the well-built inner chamber,
    He sat in the bed and took off his soft chiton;
    And tossed it into the hands of the shrewd old woman.
    She folded and shaped the chiton,
    Hung it from a peg beside the inlaid bedstead,
    And she got up and went from the inner chamber, pulled the door with the handle
    Of silver, and extended the bolt with its strap.
    And there for the whole night, alone, covered with choicest wool,
    He turned over in his mind the path that Athene had advised.

    1. This translates δμωή (dmoa), a female slave taken in war, — then, generally, a female slave, serving-woman. I translated it earlier as bondswoman, but here I decided to go with the former definition because of the recent mention that Odysseus had won the riches and servants of the household as spoils of battle.

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