Book 4
1 They came to hollow Lacedaemon with its many ravines and drove to the house of glorious Menelaus. They found him giving a wedding feast for many kinsmen in his house, for his son and for his excellent daughter. The daughter he was sending to the son of Achilles, breaker of men, for he had first promised and pledged at Troy to give her, and now the gods were bringing about the marriage. He was sending her off with horses and chariots to the renowned city of the Myrmidons, over whom her bridegroom ruled. For his son he was bringing home from Sparta the daughter of Alector, for his late-born son, strong Megapenthes, whom a slave woman had borne him; for to Helen the gods granted no more children after she had first borne her lovely daughter, Hermione, who had the beauty of golden Aphrodite. So the neighbors and kinsmen of glorious Menelaus were feasting throughout the great high-roofed house and making merry, and among them the godlike bard sang to the lyre, and two tumblers whirled in the middle of the crowd as he led the song.
20 The two of them, the hero Telemachus and the splendid son of Nestor, halted themselves and their horses at the gateway of the house. Lord Eteoneus, the busy attendant of glorious Menelaus, came out and saw them, and he went through the house to tell the shepherd of the people. He stood close beside him and spoke to him, and his words had wings:
26 “There are two strangers here, Zeus-nurtured Menelaus, two men who look like the race of great Zeus. Tell me, shall we unyoke their swift horses, or send them on to someone else who will make them welcome?”
30 Deeply troubled, red-haired Menelaus said to him: “You were no fool before, Eteoneus, son of Boethous, but now you are babbling foolishness like a child. Surely we two ate at many strangers’ tables before we came here, hoping that Zeus would someday give us rest from our misery. Unyoke the strangers’ horses, and bring the men themselves inside to feast.”
37 So he spoke, and Eteoneus hurried through the hall and called the other busy attendants to follow him. They unyoked the sweating horses from under the yoke and tied them at the horses’ mangers, and threw down spelt before them and mixed in white barley, and they leaned the chariots against the shining walls of the gateway and led the men into the divine house. They marveled as they looked about the house of the Zeus-nurtured king, for there was a gleam as of the sun or the moon throughout the high-roofed house of glorious Menelaus. When they had gazed their fill, they stepped into the polished baths and bathed. When the maids had bathed them and rubbed them with oil and put woolly cloaks and tunics about them, they sat down on chairs beside Menelaus, son of Atreus. A maid brought water in a lovely golden pitcher and poured it over a silver basin for them to wash their hands, and drew up a polished table beside them. The revered housekeeper brought bread and set it before them, and many dishes besides, giving freely of what she had. A carver lifted up platters of every kind of meat and set them beside them, and placed golden cups by them. Then red-haired Menelaus greeted the two of them and said:
60 “Take some food and welcome. Then, when you have eaten dinner, we will ask who among men you are. The line of your parents is not lost in you; you are of the race of Zeus-nurtured kings who bear the scepter, for base men could not father sons like you.”
65 So he spoke, and he took in his hands the fat roast chine of beef that had been set before him as his own portion of honor and set it before them. And they put out their hands to the good things that lay ready before them. But when they had put from them the desire for drink and food, Telemachus spoke to the son of Nestor, holding his head close so that the others would not hear:
71 “Look, son of Nestor, dear to my heart, at the flash of bronze throughout the echoing halls, and of gold and electrum and silver and ivory. The courtyard of Olympian Zeus must be like this inside, such endless riches are here. Awe holds me as I look.”
76 Red-haired Menelaus heard what he was saying, and he spoke to them, and his words had wings:
78 “Dear children, no mortal could rival Zeus, for his halls and his possessions are immortal. But among men, there may be one who could rival me in possessions, or there may not. For I suffered much and wandered much before I brought them home in my ships, and I came back in the eighth year. I wandered to Cyprus and Phoenicia and to the Egyptians, and I came to the Ethiopians and the Sidonians and the Erembi, and to Libya, where lambs grow horns as soon as they are born, for the ewes bear lambs three times in the full year. There neither lord nor shepherd lacks for cheese or meat or sweet milk; the ewes give milk for sucking all year long. While I wandered in those lands, gathering great livelihood, another man killed my brother by stealth, unawares, through the treachery of his accursed wife. So I take no joy in being lord of these riches. You must have heard all this from your fathers, whoever they are, for I suffered very much and lost a house that was well lived in and held many fine things. I wish I lived in my halls with only a third part of this wealth, and the men were safe who perished then in wide Troy, far from horse-pasturing Argos. And yet, though I mourn and grieve for them all, often as I sit in my halls, sometimes I satisfy my heart with weeping, and sometimes I stop again, for men soon have their fill of chill lament. But for all of them I do not mourn so much, grieved as I am, as for one, who makes sleep and food hateful to me when I think of him, since none of the Achaeans toiled as much as Odysseus toiled and took on himself. For him it was fated that there should be sorrows, and for me a grief for him that is never forgotten, since he has been gone so long, and we do not know whether he is alive or dead. The old man Laertes must be mourning him, and sensible Penelope, and Telemachus, whom he left a newborn child in his house.”
113 So he spoke, and he stirred in Telemachus a longing to weep for his father. Hearing of his father, he let a tear fall from his eyes to the ground, holding up his purple cloak before his eyes with both hands. Menelaus noticed him, and he pondered in his mind and in his heart whether to let him speak of his father himself, or to question him first and test him on every point.
120 While he was pondering this in his mind and in his heart, Helen came out of her fragrant, high-roofed chamber, like Artemis of the golden distaff. With her came Adreste, who set a well-made chair for her, and Alcippe brought a rug of soft wool, and Phylo brought a silver workbasket, which Alcandre, the wife of Polybus, had given her. Polybus lived in Egyptian Thebes, where the greatest riches lie stored in the houses, and he had given Menelaus two silver baths, two tripods, and ten talents1 of gold. And besides, his wife gave Helen beautiful gifts of her own: a golden distaff, and a workbasket that ran on wheels, made of silver, its rims finished with gold. This the maid Phylo brought and set beside her, filled with finely spun yarn, and across it lay the distaff with violet-dark wool. Helen sat down on the chair, and there was a footstool for her feet. At once she questioned her husband on every point:
138 “Do we know, Zeus-nurtured Menelaus, who these men declare themselves to be, who have come to our house? Am I mistaken, or am I right? My heart bids me speak. I tell you, I have never seen anyone so like another, man or woman (awe holds me as I look), as this man is like the son of great-hearted Odysseus, Telemachus, whom that man left a newborn child in his house when for my sake, shameless that I was, you Achaeans came to Troy with bold war in your hearts.”
147 Red-haired Menelaus answered her: “I see it now too, wife, as you compare them. His feet were like these, and his hands, and the glance of his eyes, and his head and the hair above. And just now, as I was remembering Odysseus and telling how much he toiled and suffered for my sake, this young man shed a bitter tear from under his brows, holding up his purple cloak before his eyes.”
155 Then Nestor’s son Peisistratus answered him: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, Zeus-nurtured, leader of the people, he is truly that man’s son, as you say. But he is modest, and in his heart he thinks it unseemly, coming here for the first time, to make a show of hasty talk before you, whose voice we two delight in as if it were a god’s. Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, sent me with him to be his guide, for he longed to see you, so that you might give him some word of advice or some help. A son has many sorrows in his halls when his father is gone and there are no others to help him, as it is now with Telemachus. His father is gone, and there are no others among the people who could keep harm from him.”
168 Red-haired Menelaus answered him: “Ah! So the son of a man I dearly loved has come to my house, a man who for my sake endured many trials. I thought that if he came home I would love him above all the other Argives, if Olympian Zeus, the far-seeing, had granted the two of us a homecoming over the sea in our swift ships. I would have given him a city in Argos to live in and built him a house, bringing him from Ithaca with his possessions and his son and all his people, emptying one of the cities that lie around here, that are ruled by me. Then, living here, we would often have been together, and nothing would have parted us in our love and delight until the black cloud of death enfolded us. But a god himself must have begrudged us this, the god who made that unhappy man alone fail to return.”
183 So he spoke, and he stirred in them all a longing to weep. Argive Helen wept, born of Zeus; Telemachus wept, and Menelaus, son of Atreus; and the son of Nestor could not keep his eyes from tears, for in his heart he remembered excellent Antilochus, whom the glorious son of shining Dawn had killed. Remembering him, he spoke, and his words had wings:
190 “Son of Atreus, old Nestor always said that you were wise beyond all mortals, whenever we spoke of you in his halls and questioned one another. So now, if it may be, listen to me. I take no pleasure in weeping after supper; there will be early-born Dawn tomorrow. Not that I think it wrong to weep for any mortal who has died and met his fate. This is the only honor we give to wretched mortals, to cut our hair and let a tear fall from our cheeks. For I too lost a brother, by no means the worst of the Argives. You must have known him. I never met him or saw him, but they say that Antilochus was beyond all others, surpassing in speed of foot and as a fighter.”
203 Red-haired Menelaus answered him: “My friend, you have said all that a wise man would say and do, even one older than you. You are the son of such a father, and so you speak wisely. Easily known is the son of a man for whom the son of Cronus spins good fortune at his marriage and his birth, as now he has granted Nestor all his days, without end, to grow old in comfort in his halls, and his sons to be wise and the best with the spear. So let us leave the weeping that came before, and think once more of supper, and let them pour water over our hands. In the morning too there will be stories for Telemachus and me to tell each other.”
216 So he spoke, and Asphalion poured water over their hands, the busy attendant of glorious Menelaus. And they put out their hands to the good things that lay ready before them.
219 Then Helen, born of Zeus, had another thought. At once she cast a drug into the wine they were drinking, a drug against grief and anger, that made one forget every evil. Whoever swallowed it, once it was mixed in the bowl, would not let a tear fall from his cheeks all that day, not even if his mother and father lay dead, not even if before his eyes men killed his brother or his dear son with the bronze, and he saw it with his own eyes. Such cunning drugs the daughter of Zeus had, good drugs, which Polydamna, wife of Thon, had given her, a woman of Egypt, where the grain-giving land bears the most drugs, many good and many deadly, mixed together. There every man is a physician, skilled beyond all men, for they are of the race of Paeon. When she had put the drug in and told them to pour the wine, she spoke again and said:
235 “Menelaus, son of Atreus, Zeus-nurtured, and you here, sons of noble men: the god Zeus gives good and evil, now to one and now to another, for he can do all things. So now sit and feast in the halls and take pleasure in stories, for I will tell you something fitting. I could not tell or name all the labors of steadfast Odysseus, but here is the kind of thing that strong man did and dared in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered woes. He marked himself with shameful blows, threw wretched rags over his shoulders, like a servant, and slipped into the city of wide streets of his enemies. Hiding himself, he made himself look like another man, a beggar, though at the ships of the Achaeans he was nothing of the kind. In this likeness he slipped into the city of the Trojans, and none of them knew him. I alone recognized him for what he was, and I questioned him, but in his cunning he kept avoiding me. But when I had bathed him and rubbed him with oil and put clothes on him, and sworn a mighty oath not to reveal Odysseus among the Trojans until he had reached the swift ships and the huts, then at last he told me the whole plan of the Achaeans. And after killing many Trojans with the long-edged bronze he went back to the Argives and brought back much knowledge of the enemy. Then the other Trojan women wailed aloud, but my heart was glad, for already my heart had turned to going back home, and I grieved for the madness that Aphrodite gave me when she led me there from my dear native land, leaving my child and my bridal chamber and my husband, a man who lacked nothing, neither in mind nor in looks.”
265 Red-haired Menelaus answered her: “Yes, wife, all that you have said is right and fitting. I have come to know the counsel and the mind of many heroes, and I have traveled over much of the earth, but never yet have I seen with my eyes such a man as steadfast Odysseus was in his heart. Here is the kind of thing that strong man did and dared in the polished horse, where all we best of the Argives sat, bringing murder and doom to the Trojans. Then you came there; some god must have bidden you, who wished to give glory to the Trojans, and godlike Deiphobus followed you as you went. Three times you walked around the hollow ambush, feeling it all over, and you called the best of the Danaans by name, making your voice like the voice of each man’s wife. And I and the son of Tydeus and noble Odysseus, sitting in the middle, heard you calling. We two started up, eager either to go out or to answer at once from inside, but Odysseus held us back and stopped us, for all our eagerness. Then all the other sons of the Achaeans were silent, but Anticlus alone wanted to answer you. But Odysseus pressed his mouth shut with his strong hands, never letting go, and saved all the Achaeans. He held him so until Pallas Athena led you away.”
290 Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, Zeus-nurtured, leader of the people, that makes it all the more painful. None of this kept bitter death away from him, not even if the heart inside him had been made of iron. But come, send us to bed, so that we may lie down now and take our pleasure in sweet sleep.”
296 So he spoke, and Argive Helen told the serving women to set beds under the portico and to lay fine purple blankets on them and spread rugs over them, and to put woolly cloaks on top for covering. They went out of the hall with torches in their hands and made up the beds, and a herald led the guests out. So they slept there in the forecourt of the house, the hero Telemachus and the splendid son of Nestor, and the son of Atreus slept in the inner room of the high house, and beside him lay long-robed Helen, noble among women.
306 When early-born Dawn appeared, the rose-fingered, Menelaus, good at the war cry, rose from his bed and put on his clothes. He slung his sharp sword over his shoulder, bound his beautiful sandals on his shining feet, and went out of his chamber, like a god to look upon. He sat down beside Telemachus and spoke to him, calling him by name:
312 “What need has brought you here, hero Telemachus, to bright Lacedaemon, over the broad back of the sea? Is it the people’s business or your own? Tell me this truly.”
315 Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, Zeus-nurtured, leader of the people, I have come in case you can tell me some news of my father. My house is being eaten up, my rich lands are ruined, and the house is full of hostile men, who are forever slaughtering my thronging sheep and my shambling cattle with curving horns, the suitors of my mother, insolent beyond measure. 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.”
332 Deeply troubled, red-haired Menelaus said to him: “Oh, for shame! So they want to lie in the bed of a strong-hearted man, cowards that they are! As when a doe has laid her newborn, suckling fawns to sleep in the lair of a mighty lion, and goes out to range over the spurs and the grassy glens, grazing, and then the lion comes back to his lair and lets loose a shameful death on both of them, so Odysseus will let loose a shameful death on those men. Father Zeus, Athena, and Apollo, if only Odysseus would come among the suitors such as he was once in well-built Lesbos, when he stood up to wrestle Philomeleides in a contest and threw him hard, and all the Achaeans rejoiced; if he came among the suitors such as he was then, they would all find a swift death and a bitter wedding. But as for what you ask and beg of me, I will not turn aside and speak of other things, nor will I deceive you. Of all that the unerring old man of the sea told me, I will not hide a single word from you or keep it back.
351 “In Egypt the gods still held me back, eager as I was to come home, because I had not offered them perfect hecatombs; and the gods always wished men to remember their commands. Now there is an island in the surging sea, in front of Egypt, which men call Pharos, as far off as a hollow ship can travel in a whole day with a whistling wind blowing behind her. In it is a harbor with good anchorage, from which men launch their balanced ships into the sea after drawing black water. There the gods kept me twenty days, and no winds ever appeared blowing seaward, the winds that speed ships over the broad back of the sea. And now all our provisions would have been spent, and the strength of the men, if one of the gods had not pitied me and saved me, Eidothea, daughter of mighty Proteus, the old man of the sea; for I had moved her heart most of all. She met me as I wandered alone, away from my companions, for they were always roaming around the island, fishing with bent hooks, and hunger was gnawing at their bellies. She came and stood close to me and spoke to me:
371 “‘Are you such a fool, stranger, so very simple-minded? Or are you letting things go of your own will, and do you enjoy suffering pain? You have been held on this island so long, and you can find no way out, and the heart of your companions is failing.’
375 “So she spoke, and I answered her: ‘I will tell you plainly, whichever of the goddesses you are, that I am not held here of my own will. I must have sinned against the immortals who hold the wide sky. But tell me, since the gods know all things, which of the immortals is fettering me and has bound me from my journey, and tell me of my return, how I may go over the fish-filled sea.’
382 “So I spoke, and at once she, bright among goddesses, answered: ‘Then I will tell you everything truly, stranger. An old man of the sea, unerring, haunts this place, immortal Proteus of Egypt, who knows the depths of every sea, the servant of Poseidon. They say that he is my father, who begot me. If you could somehow lie in wait and catch him, he would tell you the way and the stages of your journey, and your return, how you may go over the fish-filled sea. And he will tell you, Zeus-nurtured, if you wish, whatever evil and good has been done in your halls while you have been gone on your long and painful journey.’
394 “So she spoke, and I answered her: ‘You yourself must devise an ambush for the divine old man, in case he sees me first, or knows beforehand, and escapes me. It is hard for a mortal man to master a god.’
398 “So I spoke, and at once she, bright among goddesses, answered: ‘Then I will tell you everything truly, stranger. When the sun has climbed to the middle of the sky, then the unerring old man of the sea comes out of the salt water under the breath of the West Wind, hidden in the dark ripple, and when he has come out he lies down to sleep in the hollow caves. Around him the seals, the brood of the lovely sea-born one, sleep in a herd, having come up out of the gray sea, breathing out the bitter smell of the deep salt sea. There I will take you at the break of dawn and lay you down in a row. You must choose well three companions, the best you have beside your well-benched ships. And I will tell you all the old man’s tricks. First he will count the seals and go over them; and when he has counted them all by fives and looked at them, he will lie down in the middle of them like a shepherd among his flocks of sheep. As soon as you see him lying asleep, then set your minds on strength and force, and hold him there, however he strives and struggles to escape. He will try you by turning into all the creatures that move upon the earth, and into water, and into fierce-blazing fire; but you must hold him unflinchingly and press him all the harder. But when at last he speaks to you himself and questions you, in the same shape you saw him in when he lay down to sleep, then, hero, stop your force and let the old man go, and ask him which of the gods is angry with you, and about your return, how you may go over the fish-filled sea.’ So speaking, she plunged into the surging sea. And I went to the ships where they stood on the sand, and as I went my heart was troubled with many thoughts. When I had come down to the ship and the sea, we made our supper ready, and immortal night came on. Then we lay down to sleep on the shore where the waves break. When early-born Dawn appeared, the rose-fingered, I went along the shore of the wide-wayed sea, praying earnestly to the gods, and I took with me three companions whom I trusted most for every venture.
435 “Meanwhile she had plunged into the broad bosom of the sea and brought up out of it the skins of four seals, all newly flayed, for she was devising a trick against her father. She scooped out beds in the sand of the shore and sat waiting, and we came very close to her. She laid us down in a row and threw a skin over each of us. That would have been a most dreadful ambush, for the deadly stench of the sea-bred seals distressed us terribly; who would lie down beside a beast of the sea? But she herself saved us and thought of a great help. She brought ambrosia and put it under each man’s nose, with a very sweet fragrance, and it killed the stench of the beast. All morning long we waited with steadfast hearts, and the seals came up out of the sea in a herd and lay down in rows along the shore where the waves break. At noon the old man came out of the sea and found the well-fed seals, and he went over all of them and counted their number. He counted us first among the beasts, and never suspected in his heart that there was a trick. Then he lay down himself. With a shout we rushed upon him and threw our arms around him, and the old man did not forget his crafty art. First he became a lion with a great mane, and then a serpent and a leopard and a huge boar; he became flowing water and a tree with lofty leaves. But we held on unflinchingly with steadfast hearts. And when the old man, skilled in tricks, grew weary at last, then he questioned me and said:
462 “‘Son of Atreus, which of the gods planned this with you, so that you might lie in wait and take me against my will? What do you need?’
464 “So he spoke, and I answered him: ‘You know, old man. Why do you ask me this, trying to put me off? I have been held on this island so long, and I can find no way out, and my heart is failing within me. But tell me, since the gods know all things, which of the immortals is fettering me and has bound me from my journey, and tell me of my return, how I may go over the fish-filled sea.’
471 “So I spoke, and at once he answered me: ‘You should have offered fine sacrifices to Zeus and the other gods before you went aboard, so that you might reach your country as quickly as possible, sailing over the wine-dark sea. For it is not your fate to see your friends and reach your well-built house and your native land until you have gone once more to the waters of Egypt, the heaven-fed river, and offered sacred hecatombs to the immortal gods who hold the wide sky. Then at last the gods will grant you the journey you long for.’
481 “So he spoke, and my heart was broken within me, because he bade me go back again over the misty sea to Egypt, a long and painful journey. But even so I answered him and said:
485 “‘All this I will do, old man, as you bid me. But come, tell me this, and tell it truly: did all the Achaeans come home unharmed with their ships, all whom Nestor and I left behind as we set out from Troy, or did any of them perish by a cruel death on board his ship, or in the arms of his friends, after he had wound up the war?’
491 “So I spoke, and at once he answered me: ‘Son of Atreus, why do you ask me this? There is no need for you to know or to learn my mind. I tell you, you will not be without tears for long once you have heard it all. Many of them were killed, and many were left. But only two leaders of the bronze-clad Achaeans perished on the way home; as for the fighting, you were there yourself. And one is still alive, held back somewhere on the wide sea.
499 “‘Ajax was lost among his long-oared ships. First Poseidon drove him onto the great rocks of Gyrae and saved him from the sea; and he would have escaped his doom, hated though he was by Athena, if he had not uttered an overbearing word and been greatly blinded. He said that he had escaped the great gulf of the sea in spite of the gods. Poseidon heard him boasting loudly, and at once he took his trident in his strong hands and struck the rock of Gyrae and split it apart. Part of it stayed where it was, but the broken piece fell into the sea, the piece on which Ajax had sat at first when he was so greatly blinded, and it bore him away over the boundless, surging sea. So he perished there, when he had drunk the salt water.
512 “‘Your brother escaped the doom and evaded it in his hollow ships, for lady Hera saved him. But when he was about to reach the steep headland of Malea, a storm wind caught him up and carried him over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily, to the edge of the land where Thyestes once had his house, and where Aegisthus, son of Thyestes, lived then. But when from there too a safe return appeared, and the gods turned the wind back and they reached home, then he set foot on his native land rejoicing, and he touched his land and kissed it, and many warm tears streamed from him, for he was glad to see his land. But a watchman saw him from a lookout, a man whom guileful Aegisthus had taken and posted there, and promised him two talents of gold as his wage. He had been keeping watch for a year, so that Agamemnon would not pass by unseen and remember his furious valor. He went to the house to tell the shepherd of the people, and at once Aegisthus devised a treacherous trick. He chose twenty of the best men in the land and set them in ambush, and on the other side of the hall he ordered a feast to be prepared. Then he went with horses and chariots to invite Agamemnon, shepherd of the people, with shameful thoughts in his mind. He led him up, unaware of his death, and when he had feasted him, he killed him, as a man kills an ox at the manger. Not one of the companions of the son of Atreus who followed him was left, and not one of the men of Aegisthus; they were all killed in the halls.’
538 “So he spoke, and my heart was broken within me. I sat on the sand and wept, and my heart no longer wished to live and see the light of the sun. But when I had had my fill of weeping and rolling on the ground, then the unerring old man of the sea said to me:
543 “‘Son of Atreus, weep no longer so long and so endlessly, for we will find no remedy in it. Try instead as quickly as you can to reach your native land. Either you will find him still alive, or Orestes will have killed him before you, and you may come in time for the funeral.’
548 “So he spoke, and my heart and proud spirit were warmed again in my breast, grieved as I was, and I spoke to him, and my words had wings:
551 “‘These two I know now. But name the third man, who is still alive and held back on the wide sea, or else dead. I want to hear, grieved as I am.’
554 “So I spoke, and at once he answered me: ‘It is the son of Laertes, whose home is in Ithaca. I saw him on an island, shedding big tears, in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him there by force; and he cannot reach his native land, for he has no ships with oars and no companions to carry him over the broad back of the sea. But for you, Zeus-nurtured Menelaus, it is not ordained to die and meet your fate in horse-pasturing Argos. The immortals will send you to the Elysian Field2 at the ends of the earth, where red-haired Rhadamanthys is, where life is easiest for men. There is no snow there, no long winter, and never any rain, but Ocean always sends up the breezes of the West Wind, blowing shrill, to refresh men; because you have Helen as your wife, and in their eyes you are the son-in-law of Zeus.’ So speaking, he plunged into the surging sea. And I went to the ships with my godlike companions, and as I went my heart was troubled with many thoughts. When we had come down to the ship and the sea, we made our supper ready, and immortal night came on. Then we lay down to sleep on the shore where the waves break. When early-born Dawn appeared, the rose-fingered, first of all we dragged the ships down into the bright sea and set up the masts and sails in the balanced ships. Quickly we went aboard and sat down at the oarlocks, and sitting in order we struck the gray sea with our oars. Back to the waters of Egypt, the heaven-fed river, I brought my ships, and there I offered perfect hecatombs. When I had appeased the anger of the gods who live forever, I heaped up a mound for Agamemnon, so that his fame might never be quenched. When I had done this, I set out for home, and the immortals gave me a wind and sent me quickly to my dear native land. But come now, stay in my halls until the eleventh or twelfth day has come. Then I will send you off well, and I will give you glorious gifts, three horses and a polished chariot; and then I will give you a beautiful goblet, so that you may pour offerings to the immortal gods and remember me all your days.”
593 Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him: “Son of Atreus, do not keep me here a long time. I could be content to sit here beside you for a year, and no longing for home or for my parents would seize me, for I take wonderful pleasure in listening to your stories and your words. But already my companions are growing impatient in holy Pylos, and you are keeping me here a long time. And whatever gift you would give me, let it be a treasure. I will not take horses to Ithaca, but I will leave them here for you yourself, to be your delight, for you rule over a wide plain, in which there is plenty of clover and galingale, and wheat and spelt and broad-eared white barley. But in Ithaca there are no wide courses and no meadow at all. It is a land for goats, and more lovely than a land for horses. None of the islands that slope down to the sea is good for driving horses or rich in meadows, and Ithaca least of all.”
609 So he spoke, and Menelaus, good at the war cry, smiled, and he stroked him with his hand and spoke to him, calling him by name:
611 “You are of good blood, dear child, to speak as you do. Then I will change these gifts for you, for I can. Of all the gifts that lie stored as treasures in my house, I will give you the one that is most beautiful and most precious. I will give you a mixing bowl, finely wrought. It is all of silver, and its rims are finished with gold, the work of Hephaestus. The hero Phaedimus, king of the Sidonians, gave it to me, when his house sheltered me as I came home that way; and I want to give it to you.”
620 So they spoke with one another, and the banqueters came to the house of the divine king. They drove in sheep and brought wine that gives men strength, and their wives with lovely veils sent them bread. So they were busy preparing the meal in the halls. Meanwhile the suitors, in front of the hall of Odysseus, were amusing themselves throwing the discus and the javelin on the leveled ground, where they had done so before, insolent as ever. Antinous and Eurymachus, godlike in looks, were sitting there, the leaders of the suitors, and by far the best of them in prowess. Noemon, son of Phronius, came up to them and questioned Antinous, saying:
632 “Antinous, do we know in our minds or not when Telemachus will come back from sandy Pylos? He has gone off with a ship of mine, and I need it to cross over to spacious Elis, where I have twelve mares, and under them hardworking mules, unbroken. I would like to drive one of them off and break it in.”
638 So he spoke, and they were astonished in their hearts, for they had not thought that he had gone to Pylos of Neleus, but that he was somewhere there in the country, among the flocks or with the swineherd.
641 Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, said to him: “Tell me truly, when did he go, and what young men went with him? Were they picked young men of Ithaca, or his own hired men and slaves? He could have done that too. And tell me this truly, so that I may know it well: did he take the black ship from you by force, against your will, or did you give it to him willingly, when he spoke to you and asked for it?”
648 Then Noemon, son of Phronius, answered him: “I gave it to him willingly myself. What would anyone else have done, when such a man, with sorrows in his heart, asked for it? Hard to refuse. The young men who are best in the land after us went with him. And I saw Mentor going aboard as their leader, or else a god, for he was like Mentor in every way. But this is what I wonder at: I saw noble Mentor here yesterday at dawn, yet at that time he went aboard the ship for Pylos.”
657 So speaking, he went away to his father’s house, but the proud hearts of the two men were indignant. They made the suitors sit down together and stop their games. Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them in distress; his dark heart was filled to the brim with fury, and his eyes were like blazing fire:
663 “Oh, for shame! A great deed has been done with overbearing insolence, this journey of Telemachus; and we said it would never be done. In the face of all of us, against our will, a mere boy goes off just like that, launching a ship and choosing the best men in the land. He will begin to be a trouble to us further on. But may Zeus destroy his strength before he reaches the full measure of manhood. Come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions, so that I may lie in wait and watch for him as he comes back in the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos, so that his voyage in search of his father may end in misery.”
673 So he spoke, and they all praised his words and told him to do so. At once they rose and went into the house of Odysseus.
675 But Penelope was not long without knowledge of the plans the suitors were brewing deep in their hearts. The herald Medon told her, who heard their counsels from outside the courtyard while they were weaving their scheme inside. He went through the house to tell Penelope, and as he stepped over the threshold Penelope said to him:
681 “Herald, why have the lordly suitors sent you? Is it to tell the serving women of godlike Odysseus to stop their work and prepare a feast for them? I wish they would never court me again or gather anywhere else, but would eat their last and final meal here now. You who gather here so often and waste so much livelihood, the wealth of wise Telemachus: did you never hear from your fathers in the old days, when you were children, what kind of man Odysseus was among your parents? He never did anything unjust to anyone, or said anything unjust, among the people, though that is the way of godlike kings: one man they will hate and another they will love. But he never did any wrong at all to any man. Your hearts and your shameful deeds are plain to see, and there is no gratitude afterward for good deeds done.”
696 Then Medon, wise of heart, said to her: “If only this, my queen, were the greatest evil. But the suitors are planning another, far greater and more grievous, which I pray the son of Cronus may not bring to pass. They are bent on killing Telemachus with the sharp bronze on his way home. He went to holy Pylos and to bright Lacedaemon to hear news of his father.”
703 So he spoke, and her knees and her heart went slack where she sat. For a long time she could not speak, her eyes filled with tears, and her full voice was held fast. At last she answered him and said:
707 “Herald, why has my child gone? There was no need for him to go aboard swift-sailing ships, which serve men as horses of the sea and cross the wide water. Is it so that not even his name may be left among men?”
711 Then Medon, wise of heart, answered her: “I do not know whether some god urged him on, or whether his own heart moved him to go to Pylos, to learn of his father’s return, or what fate he met.”
715 So speaking, he went away through the house of Odysseus. Heart-wasting grief came over her, and she could no longer bear to sit on a chair, though there were many chairs in the house, but she sat down on the threshold of her well-wrought chamber, wailing pitifully, and around her all the serving women moaned, all who were in the house, young and old. Sobbing without stop, Penelope spoke among them:
722 “Listen, my friends. The Olympian has given me sorrows above all the women who were born and raised with me. First I lost my noble husband, lion-hearted, excelling among the Danaans in every kind of worth, a noble man, whose fame spreads wide through Hellas and the heart of Argos. And now the storm winds have snatched away my beloved son from the halls, without a word, and I did not even hear that he had set out. Cruel women, not even you, any of you, thought to wake me from my bed, though you knew well in your hearts when he went aboard the hollow black ship. If I had learned that he was planning this journey, he would surely have stayed, eager as he was to go, or else he would have left me dead in the halls. But let someone quickly call old Dolius, my servant, whom my father gave me when I came here, and who keeps my orchard full of trees, so that he may go at once and sit by Laertes and tell him all this, in case Laertes can weave some plan in his mind and go out and make his lament to the people, who are bent on destroying his line, and the line of godlike Odysseus.”
742 Then the dear nurse Eurycleia said to her: “Dear young wife, kill me with the pitiless bronze or let me live in the hall; but I will not hide the truth from you. I knew all this, and I gave him everything he asked for, bread and sweet wine. But he made me swear a great oath not to tell you until the twelfth day had come, or until you missed him yourself and heard that he was gone, so that you might not weep and mar your lovely skin. But bathe, and put clean clothes on your body, and go up to the upper room with your serving women and pray to Athena, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis; for she may save him even from death. And do not trouble a troubled old man. I do not think the line of the son of Arceisius is altogether hateful to the blessed gods. There will still be someone, I think, to hold the high-roofed halls and the rich fields far and wide.”
758 So she spoke, and she lulled Penelope’s weeping and stopped her eyes from tears. She bathed, put clean clothes on her body, and went up to the upper room with her serving women, and she put barley grains in a basket and prayed to Athena:
762 “Hear me, child of Zeus who holds the aegis, Unwearied One! If ever Odysseus of many wiles burned rich thighs of cattle or sheep to you in his halls, remember it now for me, and save my dear son, and keep off the suitors in their evil arrogance.”
767 So speaking, she raised the sacred cry, and the goddess heard her prayer. The suitors broke into uproar through the shadowy halls, and one of the arrogant young men would say:
770 “The much-wooed queen is surely preparing our marriage, and she does not know that murder has been readied for her son.”
772 So one of them would say, but they did not know how things had been readied. Antinous spoke out before them and said:
774 “Strange men, keep away from overbearing talk, all of you alike, in case someone reports it inside as well. Come, let us rise in silence and carry out the plan that pleased all of us in our hearts.”
778 So speaking, he chose twenty of the best men, and they went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea. First of all they dragged the ship into deep water and put the mast and sail in the black ship, and fitted the oars in their leather loops, all in due order, and spread the white sails; and their high-spirited attendants brought them their arms. They moored her well out in the water, and stepped out themselves. There they took their supper and waited for evening to come.
787 But up in the upper room prudent Penelope lay without food, tasting neither food nor drink, wondering whether her excellent son would escape death or be overcome by the overbearing suitors. As a lion broods in fear among a crowd of men when they draw their crafty ring around him, so she was brooding when deep, sweet sleep came over her. She lay back and slept, and all her limbs went slack.
795 Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, had another thought. She made a phantom and gave it the form of a woman, Iphthime, daughter of great-hearted Icarius, whom Eumelus had married, whose home was in Pherae. She sent it to the house of godlike Odysseus, to stop Penelope in her mourning and sobbing from her weeping and tearful lament. It went into the chamber past the strap of the bolt, and stood above her head, and spoke to her:
804 “Are you sleeping, Penelope, sad at heart? The gods who live at ease do not allow you to weep or grieve, for your son will still come home. He has done no wrong against the gods.”
808 Then prudent Penelope answered her, sleeping very sweetly at the gates of dreams:
810 “Why have you come here, sister? You have not come often before, for you live very far away. And you bid me cease from my misery and the many sorrows that torment me in my mind and in my heart. First I lost my noble husband, lion-hearted, excelling among the Danaans in every kind of worth, a noble man, whose fame spreads wide through Hellas and the heart of Argos. And now my beloved son has gone off in a hollow ship, a child, who knows little of hardship or of assemblies. For him I grieve even more than for that other. For him I tremble and fear that he may suffer something, either among the people of the land where he has gone or on the sea. For many enemies are plotting against him, eager to kill him before he reaches his native land.”
824 The dim phantom answered her: “Take heart, and do not be too much afraid in your mind. Such a guide goes with him as other men too have prayed to have standing by them, for she has the power: Pallas Athena. She pities you in your grief, and she has sent me now to tell you this.”
830 Then prudent Penelope said to her: “If you are a god and have heard the voice of a god, come, tell me about that unhappy man too, whether he is still alive somewhere and sees the light of the sun, or is already dead and in the house of Hades.”
835 The dim phantom answered her: “About him I will not tell you plainly, whether he is alive or dead. It is wrong to speak words as empty as the wind.”
838 So speaking, it slipped away past the bolt of the doorpost into the breath of the winds. And the daughter of Icarius started up from sleep, and her heart was warmed, so clear was the dream that had rushed upon her in the dead of night.
842 The suitors went aboard and sailed over the watery ways, with sheer murder for Telemachus in their hearts. There is a rocky island in the middle of the sea, between Ithaca and rugged Samos, Asteris, not large, and in it there are twin harbors where ships can lie. There the Achaeans waited in ambush for him.