Book 3
1 The sun leapt up, leaving the lovely waters, into the bronze sky, to give light to the immortals and to mortal men on the grain-giving land; and they came to Pylos, the well-built citadel of Neleus. There on the seashore the people were offering sacrifice, bulls all black, to the dark-haired Earth-shaker. There were nine companies, and five hundred men sat in each, and in each they held nine bulls ready. They had tasted the inner parts and were burning the thigh bones1 for the god when the newcomers put straight in to shore. They furled the sail of the balanced ship and hauled it up, moored her, and stepped out themselves. Telemachus stepped out of the ship, and Athena led the way. The goddess, gray-eyed Athena, spoke to him first:
14 “Telemachus, you must not be shy now, not in the least. This is why you sailed over the sea, to ask about your father, where the earth hides him and what fate he met. So come now, go straight to Nestor, tamer of horses. Let us see what counsel he keeps hidden in his breast. Beg him yourself to tell you the truth. He will not tell a lie, for he is very wise.”
21 Then thoughtful Telemachus answered her: “Mentor, how shall I go? How shall I greet him? I have no practice yet in subtle speech, and a young man is shy of questioning an older one.”
25 Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, said to him: “Telemachus, some things you will think of yourself in your own mind, and others a god will put into it. For I do not think you were born and raised without the favor of the gods.”
29 So speaking, Pallas Athena led the way quickly, and he followed in the footsteps of the god. They came to the gathering and the seats of the men of Pylos, where Nestor sat with his sons, and around him his companions were preparing the feast, roasting meat and putting more on the spits. When they saw the strangers, they all came crowding round, greeted them with their hands, and asked them to sit down. Nestor’s son Peisistratus came up first, took both of them by the hand, and seated them at the feast on soft fleeces on the sand of the shore, beside his brother Thrasymedes and his father. He gave them portions of the inner parts and poured wine into a golden cup, and, raising it in greeting, he spoke to Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis:2
43 “Pray now, stranger, to the lord Poseidon, for his is the feast you have come upon in coming here. And when you have poured your offering and prayed, as is right, then give this man the cup of honey-sweet wine to pour his offering too, since I think he also prays to the immortals; all men have need of the gods. But he is younger, of my own age, so I will give the golden goblet to you first.”
51 So speaking, he put the cup of sweet wine in her hand, and Athena was glad at the man’s good sense and justice, because he had given the golden goblet to her first. At once she prayed earnestly to the lord Poseidon:
55 “Hear me, Poseidon, earth-holder, and do not grudge us, who pray to you, the fulfillment of these things. First of all, grant glory to Nestor and his sons, and then give the others, all the men of Pylos, a gracious return for their glorious hecatomb. And grant also that Telemachus and I may go home with that accomplished for which we came here in our swift black ship.”
62 So she prayed, and she herself was bringing it all to pass. She gave Telemachus the beautiful two-handled cup, and the dear son of Odysseus prayed in the same way. When they had roasted the outer meat and drawn it off the spits, they divided the portions and feasted a glorious feast. But when they had put from them the desire for drink and food, Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, was the first to speak among them:
69 “Now it is better to ask and question the strangers who they are, since they have had their fill of food. Strangers, who are you? From where do you sail the watery ways? Are you on some business, or do you wander at random over the sea like pirates, who roam about risking their own lives and bringing evil to men of other lands?”
75 Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him, taking courage, for Athena herself put courage in his heart, so that he would ask about his absent father and so that a good name might be his among men:
79 “Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, you ask where we are from, and I will tell you. We have come from Ithaca, under Mount Neion. This business I speak of is my own, not the people’s. I am following the wide report of my father, in case I may hear something, of noble, steadfast Odysseus, who once, they say, fought at your side and sacked the city of the Trojans. Of all the others who fought against the Trojans we have heard where each one perished by a bitter death, but of him the son of Cronus has made even the death unknown. No one can say clearly where he perished, whether he was overcome by enemies on the mainland or on the open sea among the waves of Amphitrite. That is why I have come now to your knees, in case you are willing to tell me of his bitter death, whether you saw it with your own eyes or heard the story from some other wanderer; for his mother bore him to sorrow beyond all men. Do not soften anything out of respect for me or out of pity, but tell me plainly how you came to see it. I beg you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus, promised you a word or a deed and fulfilled it in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered woes, remember it now for me, and tell me the truth.”
102 Then Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, answered him: “My friend, since you have reminded me of the misery we endured in that land, we sons of the Achaeans, unchecked in our fury, all that we suffered wandering in our ships over the misty sea after plunder, wherever Achilles led, and all our fighting around the great city of lord Priam: there all our best were killed. There lies warlike Ajax, there Achilles, there Patroclus, a counselor equal to the gods, and there my own dear son, strong and excellent, Antilochus, surpassing all in speed of foot and as a fighter. And we suffered many other evils besides these; what mortal man could tell them all? Not even if you stayed here five or six years asking about all the evils the noble Achaeans suffered there could you hear them; you would grow weary first and go home to your native land. For nine years we were busy stitching together evil for them with every kind of trick, and the son of Cronus hardly brought it to an end. There no one ever wished to match himself with him in cunning, for noble Odysseus far surpassed them all in every kind of trick, your father, if you really are his son. Awe holds me as I look at you. Your words are like his, and you would never think that a younger man could speak so like him. All that time, noble Odysseus and I never spoke on different sides, either in the assembly or in council. We had one mind, and with thought and wise counsel we planned how things might go best for the Argives. But when we had sacked the steep city of Priam and gone away in our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans, then Zeus planned in his mind a bitter homecoming for the Argives, since not all of them were sensible or just. So many of them met an evil fate through the deadly wrath of the gray-eyed daughter of the mighty father, who set strife between the two sons of Atreus. They called all the Achaeans to an assembly, recklessly and not in due order, at sunset, and the sons of the Achaeans came heavy with wine, and the two of them told why they had gathered the army. Then Menelaus urged all the Achaeans to think of their return over the broad back of the sea, but this did not please Agamemnon at all. He wanted to hold the army back and offer sacred hecatombs, to appease the dread anger of Athena. Fool, he did not know that she would not be won over, for the mind of the gods who live forever is not quickly turned. So the two of them stood there trading harsh words, and the well-greaved Achaeans sprang up with an unearthly din, and they were split between two counsels. That night we rested, each side pondering hard thoughts against the other, for Zeus was preparing a disaster of evil for us. At dawn some of us dragged our ships down to the bright sea and put our goods aboard, and the deep-girdled women. But half of the army held back and stayed there beside the son of Atreus, Agamemnon, shepherd of the people, and half of us went aboard and rowed away. The ships sailed very swiftly, for a god smoothed the vast sea. We came to Tenedos and made sacrifices to the gods, eager for home. But Zeus did not yet intend our return, cruel god, who stirred up evil strife a second time. Some turned their curved ships back and went with lord Odysseus, wise and crafty-minded, to do a favor once more to Agamemnon, son of Atreus. But I fled with all the ships that followed me, for I knew that the god was planning evil. The warlike son of Tydeus fled too and urged on his companions. Later red-haired Menelaus came after us and overtook us in Lesbos, as we were debating the long voyage, whether we should sail above rugged Chios, by the island of Psyria, keeping it on our left, or below Chios, past windy Mimas. We asked the god to show us a sign, and he showed it to us and told us to cut across the middle of the sea to Euboea, so as to escape from harm as quickly as possible. A whistling wind rose and blew, and the ships ran swiftly over the fish-filled ways and put in at Geraestus in the night. There we laid many thighs of bulls on the altar for Poseidon, now that we had crossed the great sea. It was the fourth day when the companions of Diomedes, son of Tydeus, tamer of horses, beached their balanced ships in Argos. But I held on for Pylos, and the wind never once died away, from the time the god first sent it to blow.
184 “So I came home, dear child, without news, and I know nothing of them, which of the Achaeans were saved and which perished. But all that I have heard, sitting in my halls, you shall learn, as is right, and I will not hide it from you. They say the Myrmidons, famed with the spear, came home safely, led by the shining son of great-hearted Achilles, and safely too Philoctetes, the glorious son of Poias. Idomeneus brought all his companions to Crete, those who escaped from the war, and the sea took none of them from him. The son of Atreus you yourselves have heard of, far away as you are, how he came home and how Aegisthus devised his bitter death. But he paid for it terribly. So good a thing it is that a son should be left behind when a man is killed, since that son took vengeance on his father’s murderer, guileful Aegisthus, who had killed his famous father. You too, my friend, for I see that you are handsome and tall, be brave, so that men yet to be born may speak well of you.”
201 Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him: “Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, yes, that son took vengeance indeed, and the Achaeans will spread his fame far and wide, for men to come to hear of. If only the gods would clothe me with such strength, to take vengeance on the suitors for their grievous transgression, who in their insolence are plotting reckless deeds against me. But the gods have not spun such happiness for me, for my father and for me. Now, in spite of everything, I must endure.”
210 Then Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, answered him: “My friend, since you have reminded me of this and spoken of it, they say that many suitors, for your mother’s sake, are plotting evil in your halls against your will. Tell me, do you submit willingly, or do the people throughout the land hate you, following the voice of a god? Who knows whether Odysseus will come one day and pay them back for their violence, either he alone or all the Achaeans together? If only gray-eyed Athena were willing to love you as she cared for glorious Odysseus then, in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered woes—for I have never seen the gods show love so openly as Pallas Athena openly stood by him—if she were willing to love you so and care for you in her heart, then some of those men would forget all about marriage.”
225 Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him: “Old man, I do not think that word will ever come to pass. What you have said is too great; amazement holds me. It would not happen for me, hope as I might, not even if the gods should will it so.”
229 Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, said to him: “Telemachus, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth! A god who wishes it can easily bring a man safe home, even from far away. I would rather suffer many hardships and then come home and see the day of my return, than come home and perish at my own hearth, as Agamemnon perished by the treachery of Aegisthus and of his own wife. But death, which comes to all alike, not even the gods can ward off from a man they love, when the deadly fate of death that lays men out at length shall take him.”
239 Then thoughtful Telemachus answered her: “Mentor, let us speak of this no more, grieved as we are. For him there is no real return any longer; the immortals have already planned his death and black doom. But now I want to ask Nestor about something else and question him, since he knows beyond others what is just and wise. They say he has been king through three generations of men, and to look at him he seems to me like an immortal. Nestor, son of Neleus, tell me the truth: how did the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon, die? Where was Menelaus? What death did guileful Aegisthus devise for him, that he killed a man far better than himself? Was Menelaus not in Achaean Argos, but wandering somewhere else among men, so that Aegisthus took courage and killed his brother?”
253 Then Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, answered him: “Then I will tell you the whole truth, child. You can guess yourself how it would have turned out if the son of Atreus, red-haired Menelaus, coming home from Troy, had found Aegisthus alive in the halls. Then they would not even have heaped earth over him in death; the dogs and the birds would have torn him to pieces as he lay on the plain far from the city, and not one of the Achaean women would have wept for him, so monstrous was the deed he devised. For we were sitting there at Troy, finishing our many labors, while he, at his ease in the heart of horse-pasturing Argos, kept trying to charm the wife of Agamemnon with words. At first noble Clytemnestra refused the shameful deed, for she had a good heart. And there was a bard with her too, whom the son of Atreus, when he left for Troy, had strictly charged to watch over his wife. But when the fate of the gods bound her and she was overcome, then Aegisthus took the bard to a desert island and left him there to be the prey and plunder of birds, and her, willing as he was willing, he led away to his own house. He burned many thighs on the holy altars of the gods and hung up many offerings, woven work and gold, for he had accomplished a great deed that he had never hoped for in his heart.
276 “For we were sailing together on our way from Troy, the son of Atreus and I, with friendship between us. But when we came to holy Sunium, the headland of Athens, there Phoebus Apollo assailed the helmsman of Menelaus with his gentle arrows and killed him as he held the steering oar of the running ship in his hands: Phrontis, son of Onetor, who surpassed all the tribes of men in steering a ship when storm winds were raging. So Menelaus was held back there, eager as he was for the journey, to bury his companion and give him funeral honors. But when he too, going on over the wine-dark sea in his hollow ships, came running to the steep headland of Malea, then far-seeing Zeus planned a hateful voyage for him and poured on him the blast of whistling winds, and the waves swelled huge, like mountains. Then Zeus split the fleet, and some ships he drove to Crete, where the Cydonians lived about the streams of the Iardanus. There is a smooth rock, sheer to the sea, at the edge of Gortyn in the misty sea, where the South Wind drives a great wave against the headland on the left, toward Phaestus, and a small rock holds back the great wave. Some of the ships came there, and the men barely escaped destruction, but the waves smashed the ships against the reefs. But the other five dark-prowed ships the wind and the water carried on and brought to Egypt. So Menelaus was wandering there with his ships among men of foreign speech, gathering much livelihood and gold; and meanwhile Aegisthus devised these bitter deeds at home. For seven years he ruled over Mycenae, rich in gold, after he killed the son of Atreus, and the people were subdued under him. But in the eighth year noble Orestes came back from Athens to be his bane, and he killed his father’s murderer, guileful Aegisthus, who had killed his famous father. When he had killed him, he gave the Argives a funeral feast for his hateful mother and for the coward Aegisthus; and on that same day Menelaus, good at the war cry, came to him, bringing many treasures, as much as his ships could carry.
313 “And you, my friend, do not wander long and far from home, leaving your possessions behind and such overbearing men in your house, in case they divide your possessions and eat them all up, and you have made a useless journey. But I urge you and bid you to go to Menelaus. He has only lately come home from abroad, from people from whom no one would hope in his heart to return, once the storm winds had driven him off course into so great a sea, a sea so vast and terrible that not even birds come back from it within a year. Go now with your ship and your companions. Or if you want to go by land, there is a chariot and horses here for you, and my sons are here, who will be your guides to bright Lacedaemon, where red-haired Menelaus lives. Beg him yourself to tell you the truth. He will not tell a lie, for he is very wise.”
329 So he spoke, and the sun went down and darkness came on. Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, spoke among them: “Old man, all that you have told us is right and fitting. But come, cut out the tongues and mix the wine, so that when we have poured our offerings to Poseidon and the other immortals we may think of bed, for it is time. The light has already gone down into the dark, and it is not fitting to sit long at the feast of the gods; we should go.”
337 So spoke the daughter of Zeus, and they listened to her voice. Heralds poured water over their hands, and the young men filled the mixing bowls to the brim with drink and served it out to all, first pouring a few drops into each cup for the gods. They threw the tongues into the fire, and standing up they poured their offerings over them. But when they had poured their offerings and drunk as much as their hearts desired, then Athena and Telemachus, godlike in looks, were both eager to go back to the hollow ship. But Nestor held them back, rebuking them:
346 “May Zeus forbid it, and the other immortal gods, that you should go away from me to your swift ship, as if from someone utterly without clothes, some poor man who has no cloaks and blankets in plenty in his house for himself and his guests to sleep softly in. But I have cloaks and beautiful blankets. Surely the dear son of this man, Odysseus, will not lie down on the deck of a ship while I am alive, and while my sons are left in my halls after me to entertain strangers, whoever comes to my house.”
356 Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, said to him: “You have spoken well, dear old man, and it is right for Telemachus to do as you say, since this is far better. He will go with you now, to sleep in your halls. But I will go to the black ship, to cheer our companions and tell them everything. I am the only older man among them; the others are younger men who follow out of friendship, all of an age with great-hearted Telemachus. There I will lie down tonight beside the hollow black ship. But at dawn I will go to the great-hearted Caucones, where a debt is owed to me, not a new one and not small. As for this man, since he has come to your house, send him on with a chariot and with your son, and give him horses, the swiftest you have and the best in strength.”
371 So speaking, gray-eyed Athena went away in the likeness of a sea eagle, and amazement seized all who saw it. The old man marveled when he saw it with his eyes. He took Telemachus by the hand and spoke to him, calling him by name:
375 “My friend, I do not think you will be a coward or a weakling, if, young as you are, the gods go with you like this as your guides. For this was none other of those who have their homes on Olympus but the daughter of Zeus, most glorious Tritogeneia,3 who honored your noble father too among the Argives. But be gracious, queen, and grant me a good name, to me and my sons and my revered wife. And I will sacrifice to you a yearling heifer, broad of brow, unbroken, that no man has yet led under the yoke. I will sacrifice her to you and cover her horns with gold.”
385 So he prayed, and Pallas Athena heard him. Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, led them, his sons and his sons-in-law, to his own beautiful house. When they came to the glorious house of the lord, they sat down in rows on the seats and chairs, and when they had come, the old man mixed a bowl for them of sweet wine, which the housekeeper had opened in its eleventh year, loosening its seal. The old man mixed a bowl of this, and as he poured his offering he prayed earnestly to Athena, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis.
395 But when they had poured their offerings and drunk as much as their hearts desired, they went home to rest, each to his own house. But Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, had Telemachus sleep there, the dear son of godlike Odysseus, on a corded bed under the echoing portico, and beside him Peisistratus of the good ash spear, leader of men, who was the only son still unmarried in his halls. He himself slept in the inner room of the high house, and his wife, the lady of the house, made up the bed for him.
404 When early-born Dawn appeared, the rose-fingered, Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, rose from his bed, went out, and sat down on the polished stones that stood before his high doors, white and glistening as if with oil. On them Neleus used to sit, a counselor equal to the gods; but he had long since been overcome by his fate and had gone to the house of Hades. Now Gerenian Nestor sat on them in his turn, the warden of the Achaeans, holding the scepter. His sons came out of their chambers and gathered around him: Echephron and Stratius, Perseus and Aretus, and godlike Thrasymedes; and then the hero Peisistratus came as the sixth, and they brought Telemachus, like the gods in looks, and seated him beside them. Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, was the first to speak among them:
418 “Quickly, my dear children, fulfill my wish, so that first of all the gods I may win the favor of Athena, who came to me plainly to be seen at the rich feast of the god. Come, let one of you go to the plain for a heifer, so that she may come as quickly as possible, and let the cowherd drive her. Let another go to the black ship of great-hearted Telemachus and bring all his companions, leaving only two. And let another tell the goldsmith Laerceus to come here, to cover the heifer’s horns with gold. The rest of you stay here together, and tell the serving women inside to prepare a feast throughout the glorious house, and to bring seats and wood to put round the altar, and fresh water.”
430 So he spoke, and they all set busily to work. The heifer came from the plain, the companions of great-hearted Telemachus came from the swift, balanced ship, and the smith came with his bronze tools in his hands, the instruments of his craft, anvil and hammer and well-made tongs, with which he worked the gold. And Athena came to receive her sacrifice. The old horseman Nestor gave the gold, and the smith worked it and covered the heifer’s horns with it, so that the goddess might rejoice to see the offering. Stratius and noble Echephron led the heifer by the horns. Aretus came from the storeroom carrying water for their hands in a basin worked with flowers, and in his other hand he held barley grains in a basket. Thrasymedes, staunch in battle, stood by holding a sharp axe in his hand, ready to strike the heifer. Perseus held the bowl for the blood. The old horseman Nestor began the rite with the water for the hands and the barley grains, and prayed earnestly to Athena as he began, throwing hairs from the victim’s head into the fire.
447 When they had prayed and scattered the barley grains, at once Nestor’s son, high-spirited Thrasymedes, came close and struck. The axe cut through the sinews of the neck and loosed the heifer’s strength, and the women raised the sacred cry, the daughters and the sons’ wives and the revered wife of Nestor, Eurydice, eldest of the daughters of Clymenus. Then they lifted the heifer from the earth with its wide ways and held her, and Peisistratus, leader of men, cut her throat. When the black blood had flowed out of her and the life had left the bones, they quickly cut her up; at once they cut out the thigh bones, all in due order, and wrapped them in a double layer of fat and laid raw strips of meat on them. The old man burned them on split wood and poured sparkling wine over them, and the young men beside him held five-pronged forks in their hands. When the thigh bones were burned and they had tasted the inner parts, they cut up the rest and spitted it, and roasted it, holding the pointed spits in their hands.
464 Meanwhile lovely Polycaste, youngest daughter of Nestor son of Neleus, bathed Telemachus. When she had bathed him and rubbed him with oil and put a fine mantle and a tunic about him, he stepped out of the bath looking like the immortals, and he went and sat down beside Nestor, shepherd of the people.
470 When they had roasted the outer meat and drawn it off the spits, they sat down and feasted, and good men stood up and poured wine into golden cups. But when they had put from them the desire for drink and food, Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, was the first to speak among them:
475 “My sons, come, yoke horses with lovely manes to a chariot for Telemachus, so that he may be on his way.”
477 So he spoke, and they listened closely and obeyed, and quickly yoked the swift horses to the chariot. The housekeeper put in bread and wine and delicacies, such as Zeus-nurtured kings eat. Telemachus stepped up into the beautiful chariot, and beside him Nestor’s son Peisistratus, leader of men, stepped into the chariot and took the reins in his hands. He touched the horses with the whip to start them, and the pair flew willingly toward the plain and left the steep citadel of Pylos behind, and all day long they shook the yoke they bore between them.
487 The sun set, and all the ways grew dark. They came to Pherae, to the house of Diocles, son of Ortilochus, whom Alpheus fathered. There they spent the night, and he set before them the gifts due to guests.
491 When early-born Dawn appeared, the rose-fingered, they yoked the horses and mounted the inlaid chariot, and drove out of the gateway and the echoing portico. Peisistratus touched the horses with the whip to start them, and the pair flew willingly. They came to the wheat-bearing plain, and from there they pressed on to the end of their journey, so well did the swift horses carry them. The sun set, and all the ways grew dark.
Notes
1. Thigh bones: in Homeric sacrifice the thigh bones were cut out, wrapped in fat, and burned for the gods, whose share was the savor of the smoke; the men then tasted the inner parts and feasted on the meat.
2. Aegis: the terrible goatskin shield or cape of Zeus, which Athena also bears; when shaken it strikes enemies with panic.
3. Tritogeneia: an ancient title of Athena of uncertain meaning, often explained as “born at Lake Triton” or “born from the head.”