{"schema_version":1,"access":"public","rights":"Public-domain or compatibly licensed source editions; provenance is retained per record.","work":{"slug":"odyssey","title":"The Odyssey","author":"Homer","tradition":"greek","language":"grc","genre":"epic","period":"8th c. BCE","source_url":"https://raw.githubusercontent.com/PerseusDL/canonical-greekLit/master/data/tlg0012/tlg001/odyssey.perseus-grc2.xml","original":{"text":"### Book 1\n\nἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ\nπλάγχθη, ἐπεὶ Τροίης ἱερὸν πτολίεθρον ἔπερσεν·\nπολλῶν δʼ ἀνθρώπων ἴδεν ἄστεα καὶ νόον ἔγνω,\nπολλὰ δʼ ὅ γʼ ἐν πόντῳ πάθεν ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμόν,\nἀρνύμενος ἥν τε ψυχὴν καὶ νόστον ἑταίρων.\nἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς ἑτάρους ἐρρύσατο, ἱέμενός περ·\nαὐτῶν γὰρ σφετέρῃσιν ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὄλοντο,\nνήπιοι, οἳ κατὰ βοῦς Ὑπερίονος Ἠελίοιο\nἤσθιον· αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσιν ἀφείλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.\nτῶν ἁμόθεν γε, θεά, θύγατερ Διός, εἰπὲ καὶ ἡμῖν.\nἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες, ὅσοι φύγον αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον,\nοἴκοι ἔσαν, πόλεμόν τε πεφευγότες ἠδὲ θάλασσαν·\nτὸν δʼ οἶον νόστου κεχρημένον ἠδὲ γυναικὸς\nνύμφη πότνιʼ ἔρυκε Καλυψὼ δῖα θεάων\nἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἔτος ἦλθε περιπλομένων ἐνιαυτῶν,\nτῷ οἱ ἐπεκλώσαντο θεοὶ οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι\nεἰς Ἰθάκην, οὐδʼ ἔνθα πεφυγμένος ἦεν ἀέθλων\nκαὶ μετὰ οἷσι φίλοισι. θεοὶ δʼ ἐλέαιρον ἅπαντες\nνόσφι Ποσειδάωνος· ὁ δʼ ἀσπερχὲς μενέαινεν\nἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆι πάρος ἣν γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.\nἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν Αἰθίοπας μετεκίαθε τηλόθʼ ἐόντας,\nΑἰθίοπας τοὶ διχθὰ δεδαίαται, ἔσχατοι ἀνδρῶν,\nοἱ μὲν δυσομένου Ὑπερίονος οἱ δʼ ἀνιόντος,\nἀντιόων ταύρων τε καὶ ἀρνειῶν ἑκατόμβης.\nἔνθʼ ὅ γʼ ἐτέρπετο δαιτὶ παρήμενος· οἱ δὲ δὴ ἄλλοι\nΖηνὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν Ὀλυμπίου ἁθρόοι ἦσαν.\nτοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε·\nμνήσατο γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονος Αἰγίσθοιο,\nτόν ῥʼ Ἀγαμεμνονίδης τηλεκλυτὸς ἔκτανʼ Ὀρέστης·\nτοῦ ὅ γʼ ἐπιμνησθεὶς ἔπεʼ ἀθανάτοισι μετηύδα·\nὢ πόποι, οἷον δή νυ θεοὺς βροτοὶ αἰτιόωνται·\nἐξ ἡμέων γάρ φασι κάκʼ ἔμμεναι, οἱ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ\nσφῇσιν ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὑπὲρ μόρον ἄλγεʼ ἔχουσιν,\nὡς καὶ νῦν Αἴγισθος ὑπὲρ μόρον Ἀτρεΐδαο\nγῆμʼ ἄλοχον μνηστήν, τὸν δʼ ἔκτανε νοστήσαντα,\nεἰδὼς αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον, ἐπεὶ πρό οἱ εἴπομεν ἡμεῖς,\nἙρμείαν πέμψαντες, ἐύσκοπον ἀργεϊφόντην,\nμήτʼ αὐτὸν κτείνειν μήτε μνάασθαι ἄκοιτιν·\nἐκ γὰρ Ὀρέσταο τίσις ἔσσεται Ἀτρεΐδαο,\nὁππότʼ ἂν ἡβήσῃ τε καὶ ἧς ἱμείρεται αἴης.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ Ἑρμείας, ἀλλʼ οὐ φρένας Αἰγίσθοιο\nπεῖθʼ ἀγαθὰ φρονέων· νῦν δʼ ἁθρόα πάντʼ ἀπέτισεν.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nὦ πάτερ ἡμέτερε Κρονίδη, ὕπατε κρειόντων,\nκαὶ λίην κεῖνός γε ἐοικότι κεῖται ὀλέθρῳ·\nὡς ἀπόλοιτο καὶ ἄλλος, ὅτις τοιαῦτά γε ῥέζοι·\nἀλλά μοι ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆι δαΐφρονι δαίεται ἦτορ,\nδυσμόρῳ, ὃς δὴ δηθὰ φίλων ἄπο πήματα πάσχει\nνήσῳ ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ, ὅθι τʼ ὀμφαλός ἐστι θαλάσσης.\nνῆσος δενδρήεσσα, θεὰ δʼ ἐν δώματα ναίει,\nἌτλαντος θυγάτηρ ὀλοόφρονος, ὅς τε θαλάσσης\nπάσης βένθεα οἶδεν, ἔχει δέ τε κίονας αὐτὸς\nμακράς, αἳ γαῖάν τε καὶ οὐρανὸν ἀμφὶς ἔχουσιν.\nτοῦ θυγάτηρ δύστηνον ὀδυρόμενον κατερύκει,\nαἰεὶ δὲ μαλακοῖσι καὶ αἱμυλίοισι λόγοισιν\nθέλγει, ὅπως Ἰθάκης ἐπιλήσεται· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἱέμενος καὶ καπνὸν ἀποθρῴσκοντα νοῆσαι\nἧς γαίης, θανέειν ἱμείρεται. οὐδέ νυ σοί περ\nἐντρέπεται φίλον ἦτορ, Ὀλύμπιε. οὔ νύ τʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἈργείων παρὰ νηυσὶ χαρίζετο ἱερὰ ῥέζων\nΤροίῃ ἐν εὐρείῃ; τί νύ οἱ τόσον ὠδύσαο, Ζεῦ;\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·\nτέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων.\nπῶς ἂν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐγὼ θείοιο λαθοίμην,\nὃς περὶ μὲν νόον ἐστὶ βροτῶν, περὶ δʼ ἱρὰ θεοῖσιν\nἀθανάτοισιν ἔδωκε, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν;\nἀλλὰ Ποσειδάων γαιήοχος ἀσκελὲς αἰεὶ\nΚύκλωπος κεχόλωται, ὃν ὀφθαλμοῦ ἀλάωσεν,\nἀντίθεον Πολύφημον, ὅου κράτος ἐστὶ μέγιστον\nπᾶσιν Κυκλώπεσσι· Θόωσα δέ μιν τέκε νύμφη,\nΦόρκυνος θυγάτηρ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο μέδοντος,\nἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι Ποσειδάωνι μιγεῖσα.\nἐκ τοῦ δὴ Ὀδυσῆα Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων\nοὔ τι κατακτείνει, πλάζει δʼ ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης.\nἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ, ἡμεῖς οἵδε περιφραζώμεθα πάντες\nνόστον, ὅπως ἔλθῃσι· Ποσειδάων δὲ μεθήσει\nὃν χόλον· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι δυνήσεται ἀντία πάντων\nἀθανάτων ἀέκητι θεῶν ἐριδαινέμεν οἶος.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nὦ πάτερ ἡμέτερε Κρονίδη, ὕπατε κρειόντων,\nεἰ μὲν δὴ νῦν τοῦτο φίλον μακάρεσσι θεοῖσιν,\nνοστῆσαι Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε,\nἙρμείαν μὲν ἔπειτα διάκτορον ἀργεϊφόντην\nνῆσον ἐς Ὠγυγίην ὀτρύνομεν, ὄφρα τάχιστα\nνύμφῃ ἐυπλοκάμῳ εἴπῃ νημερτέα βουλήν,\nνόστον Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος, ὥς κε νέηται·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν Ἰθάκηνδʼ ἐσελεύσομαι, ὄφρα οἱ υἱὸν\nμᾶλλον ἐποτρύνω καί οἱ μένος ἐν φρεσὶ θείω,\nεἰς ἀγορὴν καλέσαντα κάρη κομόωντας Ἀχαιοὺς\nπᾶσι μνηστήρεσσιν ἀπειπέμεν, οἵ τέ οἱ αἰεὶ\nμῆλʼ ἁδινὰ σφάζουσι καὶ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς.\nπέμψω δʼ ἐς Σπάρτην τε καὶ ἐς Πύλον ἠμαθόεντα\nνόστον πευσόμενον πατρὸς φίλου, ἤν που ἀκούσῃ,\nἠδʼ ἵνα μιν κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔχῃσιν.\nὣς εἰποῦσʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,\nἀμβρόσια χρύσεια, τά μιν φέρον ἠμὲν ἐφʼ ὑγρὴν\nἠδʼ ἐπʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν ἅμα πνοιῇς ἀνέμοιο·\nεἵλετο δʼ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος, ἀκαχμένον ὀξέι χαλκῷ,\nβριθὺ μέγα στιβαρόν, τῷ δάμνησι στίχας ἀνδρῶν\nἡρώων, τοῖσίν τε κοτέσσεται ὀβριμοπάτρη.\nβῆ δὲ κατʼ Οὐλύμποιο καρήνων ἀίξασα,\nστῆ δʼ Ἰθάκης ἐνὶ δήμῳ ἐπὶ προθύροις Ὀδυσῆος,\nοὐδοῦ ἐπʼ αὐλείου· παλάμῃ δʼ ἔχε χάλκεον ἔγχος,\nεἰδομένη ξείνῳ, Ταφίων ἡγήτορι Μέντῃ.\nεὗρε δʼ ἄρα μνηστῆρας ἀγήνορας. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα\nπεσσοῖσι προπάροιθε θυράων θυμὸν ἔτερπον\nἥμενοι ἐν ῥινοῖσι βοῶν, οὓς ἔκτανον αὐτοί·\nκήρυκες δʼ αὐτοῖσι καὶ ὀτρηροὶ θεράποντες\nοἱ μὲν οἶνον ἔμισγον ἐνὶ κρητῆρσι καὶ ὕδωρ,\nοἱ δʼ αὖτε σπόγγοισι πολυτρήτοισι τραπέζας\nνίζον καὶ πρότιθεν, τοὶ δὲ κρέα πολλὰ δατεῦντο.\nτὴν δὲ πολὺ πρῶτος ἴδε Τηλέμαχος θεοειδής,\nἧστο γὰρ ἐν μνηστῆρσι φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ,\nὀσσόμενος πατέρʼ ἐσθλὸν ἐνὶ φρεσίν, εἴ ποθεν ἐλθὼν\nμνηστήρων τῶν μὲν σκέδασιν κατὰ δώματα θείη,\nτιμὴν δʼ αὐτὸς ἔχοι καὶ δώμασιν οἷσιν ἀνάσσοι.\nτὰ φρονέων, μνηστῆρσι μεθήμενος, εἴσιδʼ Ἀθήνην.\nβῆ δʼ ἰθὺς προθύροιο, νεμεσσήθη δʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nξεῖνον δηθὰ θύρῃσιν ἐφεστάμεν· ἐγγύθι δὲ στὰς\nχεῖρʼ ἕλε δεξιτερὴν καὶ ἐδέξατο χάλκεον ἔγχος,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nχαῖρε, ξεῖνε, παρʼ ἄμμι φιλήσεαι· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nδείπνου πασσάμενος μυθήσεαι ὅττεό σε χρή.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἡγεῖθʼ, ἡ δʼ ἕσπετο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.\nοἱ δʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἔντοσθεν ἔσαν δόμου ὑψηλοῖο,\nἔγχος μέν ῥʼ ἔστησε φέρων πρὸς κίονα μακρὴν\nδουροδόκης ἔντοσθεν ἐυξόου, ἔνθα περ ἄλλα\nἔγχεʼ Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος ἵστατο πολλά,\nαὐτὴν δʼ ἐς θρόνον εἷσεν ἄγων, ὑπὸ λῖτα πετάσσας,\nκαλὸν δαιδάλεον· ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν.\nπὰρ δʼ αὐτὸς κλισμὸν θέτο ποικίλον, ἔκτοθεν ἄλλων\nμνηστήρων, μὴ ξεῖνος ἀνιηθεὶς ὀρυμαγδῷ\nδείπνῳ ἁδήσειεν, ὑπερφιάλοισι μετελθών,\nἠδʼ ἵνα μιν περὶ πατρὸς ἀποιχομένοιο ἔροιτο.\nχέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα\nκαλῇ χρυσείῃ, ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,\nνίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.\nσῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,\nεἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων·\nδαιτρὸς δὲ κρειῶν πίνακας παρέθηκεν ἀείρας\nπαντοίων, παρὰ δέ σφι τίθει χρύσεια κύπελλα·\nκῆρυξ δʼ αὐτοῖσιν θάμʼ ἐπῴχετο οἰνοχοεύων.\nἐς δʼ ἦλθον μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα\nἑξείης ἕζοντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε,\nτοῖσι δὲ κήρυκες μὲν ὕδωρ ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἔχευαν,\nσῖτον δὲ δμῳαὶ παρενήνεον ἐν κανέοισιν,\nκοῦροι δὲ κρητῆρας ἐπεστέψαντο ποτοῖο.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο\nμνηστῆρες, τοῖσιν μὲν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἄλλα μεμήλει,\nμολπή τʼ ὀρχηστύς τε· τὰ γάρ τʼ ἀναθήματα δαιτός·\nκῆρυξ δʼ ἐν χερσὶν κίθαριν περικαλλέα θῆκεν\nΦημίῳ, ὅς ῥʼ ἤειδε παρὰ μνηστῆρσιν ἀνάγκῃ.\nἦ τοι ὁ φορμίζων ἀνεβάλλετο καλὸν ἀείδειν.\nαὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος προσέφη γλαυκῶπιν Ἀθήνην,\nἄγχι σχὼν κεφαλήν, ἵνα μὴ πευθοίαθʼ οἱ ἄλλοι·\nξεῖνε φίλʼ, ἦ καί μοι νεμεσήσεαι ὅττι κεν εἴπω;\nτούτοισιν μὲν ταῦτα μέλει, κίθαρις καὶ ἀοιδή,\nῥεῖʼ, ἐπεὶ ἀλλότριον βίοτον νήποινον ἔδουσιν,\nἀνέρος, οὗ δή που λεύκʼ ὀστέα πύθεται ὄμβρῳ\nκείμενʼ ἐπʼ ἠπείρου, ἢ εἰν ἁλὶ κῦμα κυλίνδει.\nεἰ κεῖνόν γʼ Ἰθάκηνδε ἰδοίατο νοστήσαντα,\nπάντες κʼ ἀρησαίατʼ ἐλαφρότεροι πόδας εἶναι\nἢ ἀφνειότεροι χρυσοῖό τε ἐσθῆτός τε.\nνῦν δʼ ὁ μὲν ὣς ἀπόλωλε κακὸν μόρον, οὐδέ τις ἡμῖν\nθαλπωρή, εἴ πέρ τις ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων\nφῇσιν ἐλεύσεσθαι· τοῦ δʼ ὤλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον·\nτίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;\nὁπποίης τʼ ἐπὶ νηὸς ἀφίκεο· πῶς δέ σε ναῦται\nἤγαγον εἰς Ἰθάκην; τίνες ἔμμεναι εὐχετόωντο;\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τί σε πεζὸν ὀίομαι ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι.\nκαί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐὺ εἰδῶ,\nἠὲ νέον μεθέπεις ἦ καὶ πατρώιός ἐσσι\nξεῖνος, ἐπεὶ πολλοὶ ἴσαν ἀνέρες ἡμέτερον δῶ\nἄλλοι, ἐπεὶ καὶ κεῖνος ἐπίστροφος ἦν ἀνθρώπων.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.\nΜέντης Ἀγχιάλοιο δαΐφρονος εὔχομαι εἶναι\nυἱός, ἀτὰρ Ταφίοισι φιληρέτμοισιν ἀνάσσω.\nνῦν δʼ ὧδε ξὺν νηὶ κατήλυθον ἠδʼ ἑτάροισιν\nπλέων ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον ἐπʼ ἀλλοθρόους ἀνθρώπους,\nἐς Τεμέσην μετὰ χαλκόν, ἄγω δʼ αἴθωνα σίδηρον.\nνηῦς δέ μοι ἥδʼ ἕστηκεν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ νόσφι πόληος,\nἐν λιμένι Ῥείθρῳ ὑπὸ Νηίῳ ὑλήεντι.\nξεῖνοι δʼ ἀλλήλων πατρώιοι εὐχόμεθʼ εἶναι\nἐξ ἀρχῆς, εἴ πέρ τε γέροντʼ εἴρηαι ἐπελθὼν\nΛαέρτην ἥρωα, τὸν οὐκέτι φασὶ πόλινδε\nἔρχεσθʼ, ἀλλʼ ἀπάνευθεν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ πήματα πάσχειν\nγρηὶ σὺν ἀμφιπόλῳ, ἥ οἱ βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε\nπαρτιθεῖ, εὖτʼ ἄν μιν κάματος κατὰ γυῖα λάβῃσιν\nἑρπύζοντʼ ἀνὰ γουνὸν ἀλωῆς οἰνοπέδοιο.\nνῦν δʼ ἦλθον· δὴ γάρ μιν ἔφαντʼ ἐπιδήμιον εἶναι,\nσὸν πατέρʼ· ἀλλά νυ τόν γε θεοὶ βλάπτουσι κελεύθου.\nοὐ γάρ πω τέθνηκεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἀλλʼ ἔτι που ζωὸς κατερύκεται εὐρέι πόντῳ\nνήσῳ ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ, χαλεποὶ δέ μιν ἄνδρες ἔχουσιν\nἄγριοι, οἵ που κεῖνον ἐρυκανόωσʼ ἀέκοντα.\nαὐτὰρ νῦν τοι ἐγὼ μαντεύσομαι, ὡς ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nἀθάνατοι βάλλουσι καὶ ὡς τελέεσθαι ὀίω,\nοὔτε τι μάντις ἐὼν οὔτʼ οἰωνῶν σάφα εἰδώς.\nοὔ τοι ἔτι δηρόν γε φίλης ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης\nἔσσεται, οὐδʼ εἴ πέρ τε σιδήρεα δέσματʼ ἔχῃσιν·\nφράσσεται ὥς κε νέηται, ἐπεὶ πολυμήχανός ἐστιν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,\nεἰ δὴ ἐξ αὐτοῖο τόσος πάϊς εἰς Ὀδυσῆος.\nαἰνῶς μὲν κεφαλήν τε καὶ ὄμματα καλὰ ἔοικας\nκείνῳ, ἐπεὶ θαμὰ τοῖον ἐμισγόμεθʼ ἀλλήλοισιν,\nπρίν γε τὸν ἐς Τροίην ἀναβήμεναι, ἔνθα περ ἄλλοι\nἈργείων οἱ ἄριστοι ἔβαν κοίλῃς ἐνὶ νηυσίν·\nἐκ τοῦ δʼ οὔτʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐγὼν ἴδον οὔτʼ ἔμʼ ἐκεῖνος.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.\nμήτηρ μέν τέ μέ φησι τοῦ ἔμμεναι, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε\nοὐκ οἶδʼ· οὐ γάρ πώ τις ἑὸν γόνον αὐτὸς ἀνέγνω.\nὡς δὴ ἐγώ γʼ ὄφελον μάκαρός νύ τευ ἔμμεναι υἱὸς\nἀνέρος, ὃν κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖς ἔπι γῆρας ἔτετμε.\nνῦν δʼ ὃς ἀποτμότατος γένετο θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων,\nτοῦ μʼ ἔκ φασι γενέσθαι, ἐπεὶ σύ με τοῦτʼ ἐρεείνεις.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nοὐ μέν τοι γενεήν γε θεοὶ νώνυμνον ὀπίσσω\nθῆκαν, ἐπεὶ σέ γε τοῖον ἐγείνατο Πηνελόπεια.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον·\nτίς δαίς, τίς δὲ ὅμιλος ὅδʼ ἔπλετο; τίπτε δέ σε χρεώ;\nεἰλαπίνη ἠὲ γάμος; ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἔρανος τάδε γʼ ἐστίν·\nὥς τέ μοι ὑβρίζοντες ὑπερφιάλως δοκέουσι\nδαίνυσθαι κατὰ δῶμα. νεμεσσήσαιτό κεν ἀνὴρ\nαἴσχεα πόλλʼ ὁρόων, ὅς τις πινυτός γε μετέλθοι.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ ἂρ δὴ ταῦτά μʼ ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς,\nμέλλεν μέν ποτε οἶκος ὅδʼ ἀφνειὸς καὶ ἀμύμων\nἔμμεναι, ὄφρʼ ἔτι κεῖνος ἀνὴρ ἐπιδήμιος ἦεν·\nνῦν δʼ ἑτέρως ἐβόλοντο θεοὶ κακὰ μητιόωντες,\nοἳ κεῖνον μὲν ἄιστον ἐποίησαν περὶ πάντων\nἀνθρώπων, ἐπεὶ οὔ κε θανόντι περ ὧδʼ ἀκαχοίμην,\nεἰ μετὰ οἷς ἑτάροισι δάμη Τρώων ἐνὶ δήμῳ,\nἠὲ φίλων ἐν χερσίν, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσεν.\nτῷ κέν οἱ τύμβον μὲν ἐποίησαν Παναχαιοί,\nἠδέ κε καὶ ᾧ παιδὶ μέγα κλέος ἤρατʼ ὀπίσσω.\nνῦν δέ μιν ἀκλειῶς ἅρπυιαι ἀνηρείψαντο·\nοἴχετʼ ἄιστος ἄπυστος, ἐμοὶ δʼ ὀδύνας τε γόους τε\nκάλλιπεν. οὐδέ τι κεῖνον ὀδυρόμενος στεναχίζω\nοἶον, ἐπεί νύ μοι ἄλλα θεοὶ κακὰ κήδεʼ ἔτευξαν.\nὅσσοι γὰρ νήσοισιν ἐπικρατέουσιν ἄριστοι,\nΔουλιχίῳ τε Σάμῃ τε καὶ ὑλήεντι Ζακύνθῳ,\nἠδʼ ὅσσοι κραναὴν Ἰθάκην κάτα κοιρανέουσιν,\nτόσσοι μητέρʼ ἐμὴν μνῶνται, τρύχουσι δὲ οἶκον.\nἡ δʼ οὔτʼ ἀρνεῖται στυγερὸν γάμον οὔτε τελευτὴν\nποιῆσαι δύναται· τοὶ δὲ φθινύθουσιν ἔδοντες\nοἶκον ἐμόν· τάχα δή με διαρραίσουσι καὶ αὐτόν.\nτὸν δʼ ἐπαλαστήσασα προσηύδα Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ δὴ πολλὸν ἀποιχομένου Ὀδυσῆος\nδεύῃ, ὅ κε μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφείη.\nεἰ γὰρ νῦν ἐλθὼν δόμου ἐν πρώτῃσι θύρῃσι\nσταίη, ἔχων πήληκα καὶ ἀσπίδα καὶ δύο δοῦρε,\nτοῖος ἐὼν οἷόν μιν ἐγὼ τὰ πρῶτʼ ἐνόησα\nοἴκῳ ἐν ἡμετέρῳ πίνοντά τε τερπόμενόν τε,\nἐξ Ἐφύρης ἀνιόντα παρʼ Ἴλου Μερμερίδαο—\nᾤχετο γὰρ καὶ κεῖσε θοῆς ἐπὶ νηὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς\nφάρμακον ἀνδροφόνον διζήμενος, ὄφρα οἱ εἴη\nἰοὺς χρίεσθαι χαλκήρεας· ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν οὔ οἱ\nδῶκεν, ἐπεί ῥα θεοὺς νεμεσίζετο αἰὲν ἐόντας,\nἀλλὰ πατήρ οἱ δῶκεν ἐμός· φιλέεσκε γὰρ αἰνῶς—\nτοῖος ἐὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμιλήσειεν Ὀδυσσεύς·\nπάντες κʼ ὠκύμοροί τε γενοίατο πικρόγαμοί τε.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ταῦτα θεῶν ἐν γούνασι κεῖται,\nἤ κεν νοστήσας ἀποτίσεται, ἦε καὶ οὐκί,\nοἷσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι· σὲ δὲ φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα,\nὅππως κε μνηστῆρας ἀπώσεαι ἐκ μεγάροιο.\nεἰ δʼ ἄγε νῦν ξυνίει καὶ ἐμῶν ἐμπάζεο μύθων·\nαὔριον εἰς ἀγορὴν καλέσας ἥρωας Ἀχαιοὺς\nμῦθον πέφραδε πᾶσι, θεοὶ δʼ ἐπὶ μάρτυροι ἔστων.\nμνηστῆρας μὲν ἐπὶ σφέτερα σκίδνασθαι ἄνωχθι,\nμητέρα δʼ, εἴ οἱ θυμὸς ἐφορμᾶται γαμέεσθαι,\nἂψ ἴτω ἐς μέγαρον πατρὸς μέγα δυναμένοιο·\nοἱ δὲ γάμον τεύξουσι καὶ ἀρτυνέουσιν ἔεδνα\nπολλὰ μάλʼ, ὅσσα ἔοικε φίλης ἐπὶ παιδὸς ἕπεσθαι.\nσοὶ δʼ αὐτῷ πυκινῶς ὑποθήσομαι, αἴ κε πίθηαι·\nνῆʼ ἄρσας ἐρέτῃσιν ἐείκοσιν, ἥ τις ἀρίστη,\nἔρχεο πευσόμενος πατρὸς δὴν οἰχομένοιο,\nἤν τίς τοι εἴπῃσι βροτῶν, ἢ ὄσσαν ἀκούσῃς\nἐκ Διός, ἥ τε μάλιστα φέρει κλέος ἀνθρώποισι.\nπρῶτα μὲν ἐς Πύλον ἐλθὲ καὶ εἴρεο Νέστορα δῖον,\nκεῖθεν δὲ Σπάρτηνδε παρὰ ξανθὸν Μενέλαον·\nὃς γὰρ δεύτατος ἦλθεν Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων.\nεἰ μέν κεν πατρὸς βίοτον καὶ νόστον ἀκούσῃς,\nἦ τʼ ἂν τρυχόμενός περ ἔτι τλαίης ἐνιαυτόν·\nεἰ δέ κε τεθνηῶτος ἀκούσῃς μηδʼ ἔτʼ ἐόντος,\nνοστήσας δὴ ἔπειτα φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν\nσῆμά τέ οἱ χεῦαι καὶ ἐπὶ κτέρεα κτερεΐξαι\nπολλὰ μάλʼ, ὅσσα ἔοικε, καὶ ἀνέρι μητέρα δοῦναι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ ταῦτα τελευτήσῃς τε καὶ ἔρξῃς,\nφράζεσθαι δὴ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμὸν\nὅππως κε μνηστῆρας ἐνὶ μεγάροισι τεοῖσι\nκτείνῃς ἠὲ δόλῳ ἢ ἀμφαδόν· οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ\nνηπιάας ὀχέειν, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τηλίκος ἐσσι.\nἢ οὐκ ἀίεις οἷον κλέος ἔλλαβε δῖος Ὀρέστης\nπάντας ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους, ἐπεὶ ἔκτανε πατροφονῆα,\nΑἴγισθον δολόμητιν, ὅ οἱ πατέρα κλυτὸν ἔκτα;\nκαὶ σύ, φίλος, μάλα γάρ σʼ ὁρόω καλόν τε μέγαν τε,\nἄλκιμος ἔσσʼ, ἵνα τίς σε καὶ ὀψιγόνων ἐὺ εἴπῃ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν κατελεύσομαι ἤδη\nἠδʼ ἑτάρους, οἵ πού με μάλʼ ἀσχαλόωσι μένοντες·\nσοὶ δʼ αὐτῷ μελέτω, καὶ ἐμῶν ἐμπάζεο μύθων.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν ταῦτα φίλα φρονέων ἀγορεύεις,\nὥς τε πατὴρ ᾧ παιδί, καὶ οὔ ποτε λήσομαι αὐτῶν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἐπίμεινον, ἐπειγόμενός περ ὁδοῖο,\nὄφρα λοεσσάμενός τε τεταρπόμενός τε φίλον κῆρ,\nδῶρον ἔχων ἐπὶ νῆα κίῃς, χαίρων ἐνὶ θυμῷ,\nτιμῆεν, μάλα καλόν, ὅ τοι κειμήλιον ἔσται\nἐξ ἐμεῦ, οἷα φίλοι ξεῖνοι ξείνοισι διδοῦσι.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nμή μʼ ἔτι νῦν κατέρυκε, λιλαιόμενόν περ ὁδοῖο.\nδῶρον δʼ ὅττι κέ μοι δοῦναι φίλον ἦτορ ἀνώγῃ,\nαὖτις ἀνερχομένῳ δόμεναι οἶκόνδε φέρεσθαι,\nκαὶ μάλα καλὸν ἑλών· σοὶ δʼ ἄξιον ἔσται ἀμοιβῆς.\nἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,\nὄρνις δʼ ὣς ἀνόπαια διέπτατο· τῷ δʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nθῆκε μένος καὶ θάρσος, ὑπέμνησέν τέ ἑ πατρὸς\nμᾶλλον ἔτʼ ἢ τὸ πάροιθεν. ὁ δὲ φρεσὶν ᾗσι νοήσας\nθάμβησεν κατὰ θυμόν· ὀίσατο γὰρ θεὸν εἶναι.\nαὐτίκα δὲ μνηστῆρας ἐπῴχετο ἰσόθεος φώς.\nτοῖσι δʼ ἀοιδὸς ἄειδε περικλυτός, οἱ δὲ σιωπῇ\nἥατʼ ἀκούοντες· ὁ δʼ Ἀχαιῶν νόστον ἄειδε\nλυγρόν, ὃν ἐκ Τροίης ἐπετείλατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.\nτοῦ δʼ ὑπερωιόθεν φρεσὶ σύνθετο θέσπιν ἀοιδὴν\nκούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nκλίμακα δʼ ὑψηλὴν κατεβήσετο οἷο δόμοιο,\nοὐκ οἴη, ἅμα τῇ γε καὶ ἀμφίπολοι δύʼ ἕποντο.\nἡ δʼ ὅτε δὴ μνηστῆρας ἀφίκετο δῖα γυναικῶν,\nστῆ ῥα παρὰ σταθμὸν τέγεος πύκα ποιητοῖο,\nἄντα παρειάων σχομένη λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα·\nἀμφίπολος δʼ ἄρα οἱ κεδνὴ ἑκάτερθε παρέστη.\nδακρύσασα δʼ ἔπειτα προσηύδα θεῖον ἀοιδόν·\nΦήμιε, πολλὰ γὰρ ἄλλα βροτῶν θελκτήρια οἶδας,\nἔργʼ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε, τά τε κλείουσιν ἀοιδοί·\nτῶν ἕν γέ σφιν ἄειδε παρήμενος, οἱ δὲ σιωπῇ\nοἶνον πινόντων· ταύτης δʼ ἀποπαύεʼ ἀοιδῆς\nλυγρῆς, ἥ τέ μοι αἰεὶ ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλον κῆρ\nτείρει, ἐπεί με μάλιστα καθίκετο πένθος ἄλαστον.\nτοίην γὰρ κεφαλὴν ποθέω μεμνημένη αἰεί,\nἀνδρός, τοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ καθʼ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nμῆτερ ἐμή, τί τʼ ἄρα φθονέεις ἐρίηρον ἀοιδὸν\nτέρπειν ὅππῃ οἱ νόος ὄρνυται; οὔ νύ τʼ ἀοιδοὶ\nαἴτιοι, ἀλλά ποθι Ζεὺς αἴτιος, ὅς τε δίδωσιν\nἀνδράσιν ἀλφηστῇσιν, ὅπως ἐθέλῃσιν, ἑκάστῳ.\nτούτῳ δʼ οὐ νέμεσις Δαναῶν κακὸν οἶτον ἀείδειν·\nτὴν γὰρ ἀοιδὴν μᾶλλον ἐπικλείουσʼ ἄνθρωποι,\nἥ τις ἀκουόντεσσι νεωτάτη ἀμφιπέληται.\nσοὶ δʼ ἐπιτολμάτω κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀκούειν·\nοὐ γὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς οἶος ἀπώλεσε νόστιμον ἦμαρ\nἐν Τροίῃ, πολλοὶ δὲ καὶ ἄλλοι φῶτες ὄλοντο.\nἀλλʼ εἰς οἶκον ἰοῦσα τὰ σʼ αὐτῆς ἔργα κόμιζε,\nἱστόν τʼ ἠλακάτην τε, καὶ ἀμφιπόλοισι κέλευε\nἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι· μῦθος δʼ ἄνδρεσσι μελήσει\nπᾶσι, μάλιστα δʼ ἐμοί· τοῦ γὰρ κράτος ἔστʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.\nἡ μὲν θαμβήσασα πάλιν οἶκόνδε βεβήκει·\nπαιδὸς γὰρ μῦθον πεπνυμένον ἔνθετο θυμῷ.\nἐς δʼ ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶ\nκλαῖεν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα φίλον πόσιν, ὄφρα οἱ ὕπνον\nἡδὺν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι βάλε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ὁμάδησαν ἀνὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα,\nπάντες δʼ ἠρήσαντο παραὶ λεχέεσσι κλιθῆναι.\nτοῖσι δὲ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἤρχετο μύθων·\nμητρὸς ἐμῆς μνηστῆρες ὑπέρβιον ὕβριν ἔχοντες,\nνῦν μὲν δαινύμενοι τερπώμεθα, μηδὲ βοητὺς\nἔστω, ἐπεὶ τόδε καλὸν ἀκουέμεν ἐστὶν ἀοιδοῦ\nτοιοῦδʼ οἷος ὅδʼ ἐστί, θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιος αὐδήν.\nἠῶθεν δʼ ἀγορήνδε καθεζώμεσθα κιόντες\nπάντες, ἵνʼ ὕμιν μῦθον ἀπηλεγέως ἀποείπω,\nἐξιέναι μεγάρων· ἄλλας δʼ ἀλεγύνετε δαῖτας,\nὑμὰ κτήματʼ ἔδοντες, ἀμειβόμενοι κατὰ οἴκους.\nεἰ δʼ ὕμιν δοκέει τόδε λωίτερον καὶ ἄμεινον\nἔμμεναι, ἀνδρὸς ἑνὸς βίοτον νήποινον ὀλέσθαι,\nκείρετʼ· ἐγὼ δὲ θεοὺς ἐπιβώσομαι αἰὲν ἐόντας,\nαἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς δῷσι παλίντιτα ἔργα γενέσθαι·\nνήποινοί κεν ἔπειτα δόμων ἔντοσθεν ὄλοισθε.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὀδὰξ ἐν χείλεσι φύντες\nΤηλέμαχον θαύμαζον, ὃ θαρσαλέως ἀγόρευεν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, ἦ μάλα δή σε διδάσκουσιν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ\nὑψαγόρην τʼ ἔμεναι καὶ θαρσαλέως ἀγορεύειν·\nμὴ σέ γʼ ἐν ἀμφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ βασιλῆα Κρονίων\nποιήσειεν, ὅ τοι γενεῇ πατρώιόν ἐστιν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἈντίνοʼ, ἦ καί μοι νεμεσήσεαι ὅττι κεν εἴπω;\nκαί κεν τοῦτʼ ἐθέλοιμι Διός γε διδόντος ἀρέσθαι.\nἦ φῂς τοῦτο κάκιστον ἐν ἀνθρώποισι τετύχθαι;\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τι κακὸν βασιλευέμεν· αἶψά τέ οἱ δῶ\nἀφνειὸν πέλεται καὶ τιμηέστερος αὐτός.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι βασιλῆες Ἀχαιῶν εἰσὶ καὶ ἄλλοι\nπολλοὶ ἐν ἀμφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ, νέοι ἠδὲ παλαιοί,\nτῶν κέν τις τόδʼ ἔχῃσιν, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν οἴκοιο ἄναξ ἔσομʼ ἡμετέροιο\nκαὶ δμώων, οὕς μοι ληίσσατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύμαχος Πολύβου πάϊς ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι ταῦτα θεῶν ἐν γούνασι κεῖται,\nὅς τις ἐν ἀμφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ βασιλεύσει Ἀχαιῶν·\nκτήματα δʼ αὐτὸς ἔχοις καὶ δώμασιν οἷσιν ἀνάσσοις.\nμὴ γὰρ ὅ γʼ ἔλθοι ἀνὴρ ὅς τίς σʼ ἀέκοντα βίηφιν\nκτήματʼ ἀπορραίσει, Ἰθάκης ἔτι ναιετοώσης.\nἀλλʼ ἐθέλω σε, φέριστε, περὶ ξείνοιο ἐρέσθαι,\nὁππόθεν οὗτος ἀνήρ, ποίης δʼ ἐξ εὔχεται εἶναι\nγαίης, ποῦ δέ νύ οἱ γενεὴ καὶ πατρὶς ἄρουρα.\nἠέ τινʼ ἀγγελίην πατρὸς φέρει ἐρχομένοιο,\nἦ ἑὸν αὐτοῦ χρεῖος ἐελδόμενος τόδʼ ἱκάνει;\nοἷον ἀναΐξας ἄφαρ οἴχεται, οὐδʼ ὑπέμεινε\nγνώμεναι· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι κακῷ εἰς ὦπα ἐῴκει.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nΕὐρύμαχʼ, ἦ τοι νόστος ἀπώλετο πατρὸς ἐμοῖο·\nοὔτʼ οὖν ἀγγελίῃ ἔτι πείθομαι, εἴ ποθεν ἔλθοι,\nοὔτε θεοπροπίης ἐμπάζομαι, ἥν τινα μήτηρ\nἐς μέγαρον καλέσασα θεοπρόπον ἐξερέηται.\nξεῖνος δʼ οὗτος ἐμὸς πατρώιος ἐκ Τάφου ἐστίν,\nΜέντης δʼ Ἀγχιάλοιο δαΐφρονος εὔχεται εἶναι\nυἱός, ἀτὰρ Ταφίοισι φιληρέτμοισιν ἀνάσσει.\nὣς φάτο Τηλέμαχος, φρεσὶ δʼ ἀθανάτην θεὸν ἔγνω.\nοἱ δʼ εἰς ὀρχηστύν τε καὶ ἱμερόεσσαν ἀοιδὴν\nτρεψάμενοι τέρποντο, μένον δʼ ἐπὶ ἕσπερον ἐλθεῖν.\nτοῖσι δὲ τερπομένοισι μέλας ἐπὶ ἕσπερος ἦλθε·\nδὴ τότε κακκείοντες ἔβαν οἶκόνδε ἕκαστος.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ, ὅθι οἱ θάλαμος περικαλλέος αὐλῆς\nὑψηλὸς δέδμητο περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,\nἔνθʼ ἔβη εἰς εὐνὴν πολλὰ φρεσὶ μερμηρίζων.\nτῷ δʼ ἄρʼ ἅμʼ αἰθομένας δαΐδας φέρε κεδνὰ ἰδυῖα\nΕὐρύκλειʼ, Ὦπος θυγάτηρ Πεισηνορίδαο,\nτήν ποτε Λαέρτης πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν\nπρωθήβην ἔτʼ ἐοῦσαν, ἐεικοσάβοια δʼ ἔδωκεν,\nἶσα δέ μιν κεδνῇ ἀλόχῳ τίεν ἐν μεγάροισιν,\nεὐνῇ δʼ οὔ ποτʼ ἔμικτο, χόλον δʼ ἀλέεινε γυναικός·\nἥ οἱ ἅμʼ αἰθομένας δαΐδας φέρε, καί ἑ μάλιστα\nδμῳάων φιλέεσκε, καὶ ἔτρεφε τυτθὸν ἐόντα.\nὤιξεν δὲ θύρας θαλάμου πύκα ποιητοῖο,\nἕζετο δʼ ἐν λέκτρῳ, μαλακὸν δʼ ἔκδυνε χιτῶνα·\nκαὶ τὸν μὲν γραίης πυκιμηδέος ἔμβαλε χερσίν.\nἡ μὲν τὸν πτύξασα καὶ ἀσκήσασα χιτῶνα,\nπασσάλῳ ἀγκρεμάσασα παρὰ τρητοῖσι λέχεσσι\nβῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο, θύρην δʼ ἐπέρυσσε κορώνῃ\nἀργυρέῃ, ἐπὶ δὲ κληῖδʼ ἐτάνυσσεν ἱμάντι.\nἔνθʼ ὅ γε παννύχιος, κεκαλυμμένος οἰὸς ἀώτῳ,\nβούλευε φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ὁδὸν τὴν πέφραδʼ Ἀθήνη.\n\n### Book 2\n\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nὤρνυτʼ ἄρʼ ἐξ εὐνῆφιν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱὸς\nεἵματα ἑσσάμενος, περὶ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτʼ ὤμῳ,\nποσσὶ δʼ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο θεῷ ἐναλίγκιος ἄντην.\nαἶψα δὲ κηρύκεσσι λιγυφθόγγοισι κέλευσε\nκηρύσσειν ἀγορήνδε κάρη κομόωντας Ἀχαιούς.\nοἱ μὲν ἐκήρυσσον, τοὶ δʼ ἠγείροντο μάλʼ ὦκα.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἤγερθεν ὁμηγερέες τʼ ἐγένοντο,\nβῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν εἰς ἀγορήν, παλάμῃ δʼ ἔχε χάλκεον ἔγχος,\nοὐκ οἶος, ἅμα τῷ γε δύω κύνες ἀργοὶ ἕποντο.\nθεσπεσίην δʼ ἄρα τῷ γε χάριν κατέχευεν Ἀθήνη.\nτὸν δʼ ἄρα πάντες λαοὶ ἐπερχόμενον θηεῦντο·\nἕζετο δʼ ἐν πατρὸς θώκῳ, εἶξαν δὲ γέροντες.\nτοῖσι δʼ ἔπειθʼ ἥρως Αἰγύπτιος ἦρχʼ ἀγορεύειν,\nὃς δὴ γήραϊ κυφὸς ἔην καὶ μυρία ᾔδη.\nκαὶ γὰρ τοῦ φίλος υἱὸς ἅμʼ ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆι\nἼλιον εἰς ἐύπωλον ἔβη κοίλῃς ἐνὶ νηυσίν,\nἌντιφος αἰχμητής· τὸν δʼ ἄγριος ἔκτανε Κύκλωψ\nἐν σπῆι γλαφυρῷ, πύματον δʼ ὡπλίσσατο δόρπον.\nτρεῖς δέ οἱ ἄλλοι ἔσαν, καὶ ὁ μὲν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμίλει,\nΕὐρύνομος, δύο δʼ αἰὲν ἔχον πατρώια ἔργα.\nἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς τοῦ λήθετʼ ὀδυρόμενος καὶ ἀχεύων.\nτοῦ ὅ γε δάκρυ χέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·\nκέκλυτε δὴ νῦν μευ, Ἰθακήσιοι, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·\nοὔτε ποθʼ ἡμετέρη ἀγορὴ γένετʼ οὔτε θόωκος\nἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς δῖος ἔβη κοίλῃς ἐνὶ νηυσί.\nνῦν δὲ τίς ὧδʼ ἤγειρε; τίνα χρειὼ τόσον ἵκει\nἠὲ νέων ἀνδρῶν ἢ οἳ προγενέστεροί εἰσιν;\nἠέ τινʼ ἀγγελίην στρατοῦ ἔκλυεν ἐρχομένοιο,\nἥν χʼ ἡμῖν σάφα εἴποι, ὅτε πρότερός γε πύθοιτο;\nἦέ τι δήμιον ἄλλο πιφαύσκεται ἠδʼ ἀγορεύει;\nἐσθλός μοι δοκεῖ εἶναι, ὀνήμενος. εἴθε οἱ αὐτῷ\nΖεὺς ἀγαθὸν τελέσειεν, ὅτι φρεσὶν ᾗσι μενοινᾷ.\nὣς φάτο, χαῖρε δὲ φήμῃ Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός,\nοὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτι δὴν ἧστο, μενοίνησεν δʼ ἀγορεύειν,\nστῆ δὲ μέσῃ ἀγορῇ· σκῆπτρον δέ οἱ ἔμβαλε χειρὶ\nκῆρυξ Πεισήνωρ πεπνυμένα μήδεα εἰδώς.\nπρῶτον ἔπειτα γέροντα καθαπτόμενος προσέειπεν·\nὦ γέρον, οὐχ ἑκὰς οὗτος ἀνήρ, τάχα δʼ εἴσεαι αὐτός,\nὃς λαὸν ἤγειρα· μάλιστα δέ μʼ ἄλγος ἱκάνει.\nοὔτε τινʼ ἀγγελίην στρατοῦ ἔκλυον ἐρχομένοιο,\nἥν χʼ ὑμῖν σάφα εἴπω, ὅτε πρότερός γε πυθοίμην,\nοὔτε τι δήμιον ἄλλο πιφαύσκομαι οὐδʼ ἀγορεύω,\nἀλλʼ ἐμὸν αὐτοῦ χρεῖος, ὅ μοι κακὰ ἔμπεσεν οἴκῳ\nδοιά· τὸ μὲν πατέρʼ ἐσθλὸν ἀπώλεσα, ὅς ποτʼ ἐν ὑμῖν\nτοίσδεσσιν βασίλευε, πατὴρ δʼ ὣς ἤπιος ἦεν·\nνῦν δʼ αὖ καὶ πολὺ μεῖζον, ὃ δὴ τάχα οἶκον ἅπαντα\nπάγχυ διαρραίσει, βίοτον δʼ ἀπὸ πάμπαν ὀλέσσει.\nμητέρι μοι μνηστῆρες ἐπέχραον οὐκ ἐθελούσῃ,\nτῶν ἀνδρῶν φίλοι υἷες, οἳ ἐνθάδε γʼ εἰσὶν ἄριστοι,\nοἳ πατρὸς μὲν ἐς οἶκον ἀπερρίγασι νέεσθαι\nἸκαρίου, ὥς κʼ αὐτὸς ἐεδνώσαιτο θύγατρα,\nδοίη δʼ ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλοι καί οἱ κεχαρισμένος ἔλθοι·\nοἱ δʼ εἰς ἡμέτερον πωλεύμενοι ἤματα πάντα,\nβοῦς ἱερεύοντες καὶ ὄις καὶ πίονας αἶγας\nεἰλαπινάζουσιν πίνουσί τε αἴθοπα οἶνον\nμαψιδίως· τὰ δὲ πολλὰ κατάνεται. οὐ γὰρ ἔπʼ ἀνήρ,\nοἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκεν, ἀρὴν ἀπὸ οἴκου ἀμῦναι.\nἡμεῖς δʼ οὔ νύ τι τοῖοι ἀμυνέμεν· ἦ καὶ ἔπειτα\nλευγαλέοι τʼ ἐσόμεσθα καὶ οὐ δεδαηκότες ἀλκήν.\nἦ τʼ ἂν ἀμυναίμην, εἴ μοι δύναμίς γε παρείη.\nοὐ γὰρ ἔτʼ ἀνσχετὰ ἔργα τετεύχαται, οὐδʼ ἔτι καλῶς\nοἶκος ἐμὸς διόλωλε. νεμεσσήθητε καὶ αὐτοί,\nἄλλους τʼ αἰδέσθητε περικτίονας ἀνθρώπους,\nοἳ περιναιετάουσι· θεῶν δʼ ὑποδείσατε μῆνιν,\nμή τι μεταστρέψωσιν ἀγασσάμενοι κακὰ ἔργα.\nλίσσομαι ἠμὲν Ζηνὸς Ὀλυμπίου ἠδὲ Θέμιστος,\nἥ τʼ ἀνδρῶν ἀγορὰς ἠμὲν λύει ἠδὲ καθίζει·\nσχέσθε, φίλοι, καί μʼ οἶον ἐάσατε πένθεϊ λυγρῷ\nτείρεσθʼ, εἰ μή πού τι πατὴρ ἐμὸς ἐσθλὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς\nδυσμενέων κάκʼ ἔρεξεν ἐυκνήμιδας Ἀχαιούς,\nτῶν μʼ ἀποτινύμενοι κακὰ ῥέζετε δυσμενέοντες,\nτούτους ὀτρύνοντες. ἐμοὶ δέ κε κέρδιον εἴη\nὑμέας ἐσθέμεναι κειμήλιά τε πρόβασίν τε.\nεἴ χʼ ὑμεῖς γε φάγοιτε, τάχʼ ἄν ποτε καὶ τίσις εἴη·\nτόφρα γὰρ ἂν κατὰ ἄστυ ποτιπτυσσοίμεθα μύθῳ\nχρήματʼ ἀπαιτίζοντες, ἕως κʼ ἀπὸ πάντα δοθείη·\nνῦν δέ μοι ἀπρήκτους ὀδύνας ἐμβάλλετε θυμῷ.\nὣς φάτο χωόμενος, ποτὶ δὲ σκῆπτρον βάλε γαίῃ\nδάκρυʼ ἀναπρήσας· οἶκτος δʼ ἕλε λαὸν ἅπαντα.\nἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀκὴν ἔσαν, οὐδέ τις ἔτλη\nΤηλέμαχον μύθοισιν ἀμείψασθαι χαλεποῖσιν·\nἈντίνοος δέ μιν οἶος ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·\nΤηλέμαχʼ ὑψαγόρη, μένος ἄσχετε, ποῖον ἔειπες\nἡμέας αἰσχύνων· ἐθέλοις δέ κε μῶμον ἀνάψαι.\nσοὶ δʼ οὔ τι μνηστῆρες Ἀχαιῶν αἴτιοί εἰσιν,\nἀλλὰ φίλη μήτηρ, ἥ τοι πέρι κέρδεα οἶδεν.\nἤδη γὰρ τρίτον ἐστὶν ἔτος, τάχα δʼ εἶσι τέταρτον,\nἐξ οὗ ἀτέμβει θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν Ἀχαιῶν.\nπάντας μέν ῥʼ ἔλπει καὶ ὑπίσχεται ἀνδρὶ ἑκάστῳ\nἀγγελίας προϊεῖσα, νόος δέ οἱ ἄλλα μενοινᾷ.\nἡ δὲ δόλον τόνδʼ ἄλλον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμήριξε·\nστησαμένη μέγαν ἱστὸν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὕφαινε,\nλεπτὸν καὶ περίμετρον· ἄφαρ δʼ ἡμῖν μετέειπε·\nκοῦροι ἐμοὶ μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nμίμνετʼ ἐπειγόμενοι τὸν ἐμὸν γάμον, εἰς ὅ κε φᾶρος\nἐκτελέσω, μή μοι μεταμώνια νήματʼ ὄληται,\nΛαέρτῃ ἥρωι ταφήιον, εἰς ὅτε κέν μιν\nμοῖρʼ ὀλοὴ καθέλῃσι τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο,\nμή τίς μοι κατὰ δῆμον Ἀχαιϊάδων νεμεσήσῃ.\nαἴ κεν ἄτερ σπείρου κεῖται πολλὰ κτεατίσσας.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.\nἔνθα καὶ ἠματίη μὲν ὑφαίνεσκεν μέγαν ἱστόν,\nνύκτας δʼ ἀλλύεσκεν, ἐπεὶ δαΐδας παραθεῖτο.\nὣς τρίετες μὲν ἔληθε δόλῳ καὶ ἔπειθεν Ἀχαιούς·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε τέτρατον ἦλθεν ἔτος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,\nκαὶ τότε δή τις ἔειπε γυναικῶν, ἣ σάφα ᾔδη,\nκαὶ τήν γʼ ἀλλύουσαν ἐφεύρομεν ἀγλαὸν ἱστόν.\nὣς τὸ μὲν ἐξετέλεσσε καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλουσʼ ὑπʼ ἀνάγκης·\nσοὶ δʼ ὧδε μνηστῆρες ὑποκρίνονται, ἵνʼ εἰδῇς\nαὐτὸς σῷ θυμῷ, εἰδῶσι δὲ πάντες Ἀχαιοί·\nμητέρα σὴν ἀπόπεμψον, ἄνωχθι δέ μιν γαμέεσθαι\nτῷ ὅτεῴ τε πατὴρ κέλεται καὶ ἁνδάνει αὐτῇ.\nεἰ δʼ ἔτʼ ἀνιήσει γε πολὺν χρόνον υἷας Ἀχαιῶν,\nτὰ φρονέουσʼ ἀνὰ θυμόν, ὅ οἱ πέρι δῶκεν Ἀθήνη\nἔργα τʼ ἐπίστασθαι περικαλλέα καὶ φρένας ἐσθλὰς\nκέρδεά θʼ, οἷʼ οὔ πώ τινʼ ἀκούομεν οὐδὲ παλαιῶν,\nτάων αἳ πάρος ἦσαν ἐυπλοκαμῖδες Ἀχαιαί,\nΤυρώ τʼ Ἀλκμήνη τε ἐυστέφανός τε Μυκήνη·\nτάων οὔ τις ὁμοῖα νοήματα Πηνελοπείῃ\nᾔδη· ἀτὰρ μὲν τοῦτό γʼ ἐναίσιμον οὐκ ἐνόησε.\nτόφρα γὰρ οὖν βίοτόν τε τεὸν καὶ κτήματʼ ἔδονται,\nὄφρα κε κείνη τοῦτον ἔχῃ νόον, ὅν τινά οἱ νῦν\nἐν στήθεσσι τιθεῖσι θεοί. μέγα μὲν κλέος αὐτῇ\nποιεῖτʼ, αὐτὰρ σοί γε ποθὴν πολέος βιότοιο.\nἡμεῖς δʼ οὔτʼ ἐπὶ ἔργα πάρος γʼ ἴμεν οὔτε πῃ ἄλλῃ,\nπρίν γʼ αὐτὴν γήμασθαι Ἀχαιῶν ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλῃσι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἈντίνοʼ, οὔ πως ἔστι δόμων ἀέκουσαν ἀπῶσαι\nἥ μʼ ἔτεχʼ, ἥ μʼ ἔθρεψε· πατὴρ δʼ ἐμὸς ἄλλοθι γαίης,\nζώει ὅ γʼ ἦ τέθνηκε· κακὸν δέ με πόλλʼ ἀποτίνειν\nἸκαρίῳ, αἴ κʼ αὐτὸς ἑκὼν ἀπὸ μητέρα πέμψω.\nἐκ γὰρ τοῦ πατρὸς κακὰ πείσομαι, ἄλλα δὲ δαίμων\nδώσει, ἐπεὶ μήτηρ στυγερὰς ἀρήσετʼ ἐρινῦς\nοἴκου ἀπερχομένη· νέμεσις δέ μοι ἐξ ἀνθρώπων\nἔσσεται· ὣς οὐ τοῦτον ἐγώ ποτε μῦθον ἐνίψω.\nὑμέτερος δʼ εἰ μὲν θυμὸς νεμεσίζεται αὐτῶν,\nἔξιτέ μοι μεγάρων, ἄλλας δʼ ἀλεγύνετε δαῖτας\nὑμὰ κτήματʼ ἔδοντες ἀμειβόμενοι κατὰ οἴκους.\nεἰ δʼ ὑμῖν δοκέει τόδε λωίτερον καὶ ἄμεινον\nἔμμεναι, ἀνδρὸς ἑνὸς βίοτον νήποινον ὀλέσθαι,\nκείρετʼ· ἐγὼ δὲ θεοὺς ἐπιβώσομαι αἰὲν ἐόντας,\nαἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς δῷσι παλίντιτα ἔργα γενέσθαι.\nνήποινοί κεν ἔπειτα δόμων ἔντοσθεν ὄλοισθε.\nὣς φάτο Τηλέμαχος, τῷ δʼ αἰετὼ εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς\nὑψόθεν ἐκ κορυφῆς ὄρεος προέηκε πέτεσθαι.\nτὼ δʼ ἕως μέν ῥʼ ἐπέτοντο μετὰ πνοιῇς ἀνέμοιο\nπλησίω ἀλλήλοισι τιταινομένω πτερύγεσσιν·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ μέσσην ἀγορὴν πολύφημον ἱκέσθην,\nἔνθʼ ἐπιδινηθέντε τιναξάσθην πτερὰ πυκνά,\nἐς δʼ ἰδέτην πάντων κεφαλάς, ὄσσοντο δʼ ὄλεθρον·\nδρυψαμένω δʼ ὀνύχεσσι παρειὰς ἀμφί τε δειρὰς\nδεξιὼ ἤιξαν διά τʼ οἰκία καὶ πόλιν αὐτῶν.\nθάμβησαν δʼ ὄρνιθας, ἐπεὶ ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν·\nὥρμηναν δʼ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ἅ περ τελέεσθαι ἔμελλον.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε γέρων ἥρως Ἁλιθέρσης\nΜαστορίδης· ὁ γὰρ οἶος ὁμηλικίην ἐκέκαστο\nὄρνιθας γνῶναι καὶ ἐναίσιμα μυθήσασθαι·\nὅ σφιν ἐὺ φρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·\nκέκλυτε δὴ νῦν μευ, Ἰθακήσιοι, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·\nμνηστῆρσιν δὲ μάλιστα πιφαυσκόμενος τάδε εἴρω·\nτοῖσιν γὰρ μέγα πῆμα κυλίνδεται· οὐ γὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nδὴν ἀπάνευθε φίλων ὧν ἔσσεται, ἀλλά που ἤδη\nἐγγὺς ἐὼν τοῖσδεσσι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φυτεύει\nπάντεσσιν· πολέσιν δὲ καὶ ἄλλοισιν κακὸν ἔσται,\nοἳ νεμόμεσθʼ Ἰθάκην ἐυδείελον. ἀλλὰ πολὺ πρὶν\nφραζώμεσθʼ, ὥς κεν καταπαύσομεν· οἱ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ\nπαυέσθων· καὶ γάρ σφιν ἄφαρ τόδε λώιόν ἐστιν.\nοὐ γὰρ ἀπείρητος μαντεύομαι, ἀλλʼ ἐὺ εἰδώς·\nκαὶ γὰρ κείνῳ φημὶ τελευτηθῆναι ἅπαντα,\nὥς οἱ ἐμυθεόμην, ὅτε Ἴλιον εἰσανέβαινον\nἈργεῖοι, μετὰ δέ σφιν ἔβη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς.\nφῆν κακὰ πολλὰ παθόντʼ, ὀλέσαντʼ ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους,\nἄγνωστον πάντεσσιν ἐεικοστῷ ἐνιαυτῷ\nοἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· τὰ δὲ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύμαχος Πολύβου πάϊς ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nὦ γέρον, εἰ δʼ ἄγε νῦν μαντεύεο σοῖσι τέκεσσιν\nοἴκαδʼ ἰών, μή πού τι κακὸν πάσχωσιν ὀπίσσω·\nταῦτα δʼ ἐγὼ σέο πολλὸν ἀμείνων μαντεύεσθαι.\nὄρνιθες δέ τε πολλοὶ ὑπʼ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο\nφοιτῶσʼ, οὐδέ τε πάντες ἐναίσιμοι· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nὤλετο τῆλʼ, ὡς καὶ σὺ καταφθίσθαι σὺν ἐκείνῳ\nὤφελες. οὐκ ἂν τόσσα θεοπροπέων ἀγόρευες,\nοὐδέ κε Τηλέμαχον κεχολωμένον ὧδʼ ἀνιείης,\nσῷ οἴκῳ δῶρον ποτιδέγμενος, αἴ κε πόρῃσιν.\nἀλλʼ ἔκ τοι ἐρέω, τὸ δὲ καὶ τετελεσμένον ἔσται·\nαἴ κε νεώτερον ἄνδρα παλαιά τε πολλά τε εἰδὼς\nπαρφάμενος ἐπέεσσιν ἐποτρύνῃς χαλεπαίνειν,\nαὐτῷ μέν οἱ πρῶτον ἀνιηρέστερον ἔσται,\nπρῆξαι δʼ ἔμπης οὔ τι δυνήσεται εἵνεκα τῶνδε·\nσοὶ δέ, γέρον, θωὴν ἐπιθήσομεν, ἥν κʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nτίνων ἀσχάλλῃς· χαλεπὸν δέ τοι ἔσσεται ἄλγος.\nΤηλεμάχῳ δʼ ἐν πᾶσιν ἐγὼν ὑποθήσομαι αὐτός·\nμητέρα ἣν ἐς πατρὸς ἀνωγέτω ἀπονέεσθαι·\nοἱ δὲ γάμον τεύξουσι καὶ ἀρτυνέουσιν ἔεδνα\nπολλὰ μάλʼ, ὅσσα ἔοικε φίλης ἐπὶ παιδὸς ἕπεσθαι.\nοὐ γὰρ πρὶν παύσεσθαι ὀίομαι υἷας Ἀχαιῶν\nμνηστύος ἀργαλέης, ἐπεὶ οὔ τινα δείδιμεν ἔμπης,\nοὔτʼ οὖν Τηλέμαχον μάλα περ πολύμυθον ἐόντα,\nοὔτε θεοπροπίης ἐμπαζόμεθʼ, ἣν σύ, γεραιέ,\nμυθέαι ἀκράαντον, ἀπεχθάνεαι δʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον.\nχρήματα δʼ αὖτε κακῶς βεβρώσεται, οὐδέ ποτʼ ἶσα\nἔσσεται, ὄφρα κεν ἥ γε διατρίβῃσιν Ἀχαιοὺς\nὃν γάμον· ἡμεῖς δʼ αὖ ποτιδέγμενοι ἤματα πάντα\nεἵνεκα τῆς ἀρετῆς ἐριδαίνομεν, οὐδὲ μετʼ ἄλλας\nἐρχόμεθʼ, ἃς ἐπιεικὲς ὀπυιέμεν ἐστὶν ἑκάστῳ.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nΕὐρύμαχʼ ἠδὲ καὶ ἄλλοι, ὅσοι μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοί,\nταῦτα μὲν οὐχ ὑμέας ἔτι λίσσομαι οὐδʼ ἀγορεύω·\nἤδη γὰρ τὰ ἴσασι θεοὶ καὶ πάντες Ἀχαιοί.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι δότε νῆα θοὴν καὶ εἴκοσʼ ἑταίρους,\nοἵ κέ μοι ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα διαπρήσσωσι κέλευθον.\nεἶμι γὰρ ἐς Σπάρτην τε καὶ ἐς Πύλον ἠμαθόεντα\nνόστον πευσόμενος πατρὸς δὴν οἰχομένοιο,\nἤν τίς μοι εἴπῃσι βροτῶν ἢ ὄσσαν ἀκούσω\nἐκ Διός, ἥ τε μάλιστα φέρει κλέος ἀνθρώποισιν·\nεἰ μέν κεν πατρὸς βίοτον καὶ νόστον ἀκούσω,\nἦ τʼ ἄν, τρυχόμενός περ, ἔτι τλαίην ἐνιαυτόν·\nεἰ δέ κε τεθνηῶτος ἀκούσω μηδʼ ἔτʼ ἐόντος,\nνοστήσας δὴ ἔπειτα φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν\nσῆμά τέ οἱ χεύω καὶ ἐπὶ κτέρεα κτερεΐξω\nπολλὰ μάλʼ, ὅσσα ἔοικε, καὶ ἀνέρι μητέρα δώσω.\nἦ τοι ὅ γʼ ὣς εἰπὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο, τοῖσι δʼ ἀνέστη\nΜέντωρ, ὅς ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος ἦεν ἑταῖρος,\nκαί οἱ ἰὼν ἐν νηυσὶν ἐπέτρεπεν οἶκον ἅπαντα,\nπείθεσθαί τε γέροντι καὶ ἔμπεδα πάντα φυλάσσειν·\nὅ σφιν ἐὺ φρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·\nκέκλυτε δὴ νῦν μευ, Ἰθακήσιοι, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·\nμή τις ἔτι πρόφρων ἀγανὸς καὶ ἤπιος ἔστω\nσκηπτοῦχος βασιλεύς, μηδὲ φρεσὶν αἴσιμα εἰδώς,\nἀλλʼ αἰεὶ χαλεπός τʼ εἴη καὶ αἴσυλα ῥέζοι·\nὡς οὔ τις μέμνηται Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο\nλαῶν οἷσιν ἄνασσε, πατὴρ δʼ ὣς ἤπιος ἦεν.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μνηστῆρας ἀγήνορας οὔ τι μεγαίρω\nἔρδειν ἔργα βίαια κακορραφίῃσι νόοιο·\nσφὰς γὰρ παρθέμενοι κεφαλὰς κατέδουσι βιαίως\nοἶκον Ὀδυσσῆος, τὸν δʼ οὐκέτι φασὶ νέεσθαι.\nνῦν δʼ ἄλλῳ δήμῳ νεμεσίζομαι, οἷον ἅπαντες\nἧσθʼ ἄνεῳ, ἀτὰρ οὔ τι καθαπτόμενοι ἐπέεσσι\nπαύρους μνηστῆρας καταπαύετε πολλοὶ ἐόντες.\nτὸν δʼ Εὐηνορίδης Λειώκριτος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nΜέντορ ἀταρτηρέ, φρένας ἠλεέ, ποῖον ἔειπες\nἡμέας ὀτρύνων καταπαυέμεν. ἀργαλέον δὲ\nἀνδράσι καὶ πλεόνεσσι μαχήσασθαι περὶ δαιτί.\nεἴ περ γάρ κʼ Ὀδυσεὺς Ἰθακήσιος αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν\nδαινυμένους κατὰ δῶμα ἑὸν μνηστῆρας ἀγαυοὺς\nἐξελάσαι μεγάροιο μενοινήσειʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,\nοὔ κέν οἱ κεχάροιτο γυνή, μάλα περ χατέουσα,\nἐλθόντʼ, ἀλλά κεν αὐτοῦ ἀεικέα πότμον ἐπίσποι,\nεἰ πλεόνεσσι μάχοιτο· σὺ δʼ οὐ κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε, λαοὶ μὲν σκίδνασθʼ ἐπὶ ἔργα ἕκαστος,\nτούτῳ δʼ ὀτρυνέει Μέντωρ ὁδὸν ἠδʼ Ἁλιθέρσης,\nοἵ τέ οἱ ἐξ ἀρχῆς πατρώιοί εἰσιν ἑταῖροι.\nἀλλʼ ὀίω, καὶ δηθὰ καθήμενος ἀγγελιάων\nπεύσεται εἰν Ἰθάκῃ, τελέει δʼ ὁδὸν οὔ ποτε ταύτην.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, λῦσεν δʼ ἀγορὴν αἰψηρήν.\nοἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐσκίδναντο ἑὰ πρὸς δώμαθʼ ἕκαστος,\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ἐς δώματʼ ἴσαν θείου Ὀδυσῆος.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἀπάνευθε κιὼν ἐπὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης,\nχεῖρας νιψάμενος πολιῆς ἁλὸς εὔχετʼ Ἀθήνῃ·\nκλῦθί μευ, ὃ χθιζὸς θεὸς ἤλυθες ἡμέτερον δῶ\nκαί μʼ ἐν νηὶ κέλευσας ἐπʼ ἠεροειδέα πόντον\nνόστον πευσόμενον πατρὸς δὴν οἰχομένοιο\nἔρχεσθαι· τὰ δὲ πάντα διατρίβουσιν Ἀχαιοί,\nμνηστῆρες δὲ μάλιστα κακῶς ὑπερηνορέοντες.\nὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος, σχεδόθεν δέ οἱ ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη,\nΜέντορι εἰδομένη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ αὐδήν,\nκαί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, οὐδʼ ὄπιθεν κακὸς ἔσσεαι οὐδʼ ἀνοήμων,\nεἰ δή τοι σοῦ πατρὸς ἐνέστακται μένος ἠύ,\nοἷος κεῖνος ἔην τελέσαι ἔργον τε ἔπος τε·\nοὔ τοι ἔπειθʼ ἁλίη ὁδὸς ἔσσεται οὐδʼ ἀτέλεστος.\nεἰ δʼ οὐ κείνου γʼ ἐσσὶ γόνος καὶ Πηνελοπείης,\nοὐ σέ γʼ ἔπειτα ἔολπα τελευτήσειν, ἃ μενοινᾷς.\nπαῦροι γάρ τοι παῖδες ὁμοῖοι πατρὶ πέλονται,\nοἱ πλέονες κακίους, παῦροι δέ τε πατρὸς ἀρείους.\nἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ οὐδʼ ὄπιθεν κακὸς ἔσσεαι οὐδʼ ἀνοήμων,\nοὐδέ σε πάγχυ γε μῆτις Ὀδυσσῆος προλέλοιπεν,\nἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα τελευτῆσαι τάδε ἔργα.\nτῶ νῦν μνηστήρων μὲν ἔα βουλήν τε νόον τε\nἀφραδέων, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι νοήμονες οὐδὲ δίκαιοι·\nοὐδέ τι ἴσασιν θάνατον καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν,\nὃς δή σφι σχεδόν ἐστιν, ἐπʼ ἤματι πάντας ὀλέσθαι.\nσοὶ δʼ ὁδὸς οὐκέτι δηρὸν ἀπέσσεται ἣν σὺ μενοινᾷς·\nτοῖος γάρ τοι ἑταῖρος ἐγὼ πατρώιός εἰμι,\nὅς τοι νῆα θοὴν στελέω καὶ ἅμʼ ἕψομαι αὐτός.\nἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν πρὸς δώματʼ ἰὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμίλει,\nὅπλισσόν τʼ ἤια καὶ ἄγγεσιν ἄρσον ἅπαντα,\nοἶνον ἐν ἀμφιφορεῦσι, καὶ ἄλφιτα, μυελὸν ἀνδρῶν,\nδέρμασιν ἐν πυκινοῖσιν· ἐγὼ δʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον ἑταίρους\nαἶψʼ ἐθελοντῆρας συλλέξομαι. εἰσὶ δὲ νῆες\nπολλαὶ ἐν ἀμφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ, νέαι ἠδὲ παλαιαί·\nτάων μέν τοι ἐγὼν ἐπιόψομαι ἥ τις ἀρίστη,\nὦκα δʼ ἐφοπλίσσαντες ἐνήσομεν εὐρέι πόντῳ.\nὣς φάτʼ Ἀθηναίη κούρη Διός· οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτι δὴν\nΤηλέμαχος παρέμιμνεν, ἐπεὶ θεοῦ ἔκλυεν αὐδήν.\nβῆ δʼ ἰέναι πρὸς δῶμα, φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ,\nεὗρε δʼ ἄρα μνηστῆρας ἀγήνορας ἐν μεγάροισιν,\nαἶγας ἀνιεμένους σιάλους θʼ εὕοντας ἐν αὐλῇ.\nἈντίνοος δʼ ἰθὺς γελάσας κίε Τηλεμάχοιο,\nἔν τʼ ἄρα οἱ φῦ χειρί, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·\nΤηλέμαχʼ ὑψαγόρη, μένος ἄσχετε, μή τί τοι ἄλλο\nἐν στήθεσσι κακὸν μελέτω ἔργον τε ἔπος τε,\nἀλλά μοι ἐσθιέμεν καὶ πινέμεν, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ.\nταῦτα δέ τοι μάλα πάντα τελευτήσουσιν Ἀχαιοί,\nνῆα καὶ ἐξαίτους ἐρέτας, ἵνα θᾶσσον ἵκηαι\nἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην μετʼ ἀγαυοῦ πατρὸς ἀκουήν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἈντίνοʼ, οὔ πως ἔστιν ὑπερφιάλοισι μεθʼ ὑμῖν\nδαίνυσθαί τʼ ἀκέοντα καὶ εὐφραίνεσθαι ἕκηλον.\nἦ οὐχ ἅλις ὡς τὸ πάροιθεν ἐκείρετε πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλὰ\nκτήματʼ ἐμά, μνηστῆρες, ἐγὼ δʼ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα;\nνῦν δʼ ὅτε δὴ μέγας εἰμὶ καὶ ἄλλων μῦθον ἀκούων\nπυνθάνομαι, καὶ δή μοι ἀέξεται ἔνδοθι θυμός,\nπειρήσω, ὥς κʼ ὔμμι κακὰς ἐπὶ κῆρας ἰήλω,\nἠὲ Πύλονδʼ ἐλθών, ἢ αὐτοῦ τῷδʼ ἐνὶ δήμῳ.\nεἶμι μέν, οὐδʼ ἁλίη ὁδὸς ἔσσεται ἣν ἀγορεύω,\nἔμπορος· οὐ γὰρ νηὸς ἐπήβολος οὐδʼ ἐρετάων\nγίγνομαι· ὥς νύ που ὔμμιν ἐείσατο κέρδιον εἶναι.\nἦ ῥα, καὶ ἐκ χειρὸς χεῖρα σπάσατʼ Ἀντινόοιο\nῥεῖα· μνηστῆρες δὲ δόμον κάτα δαῖτα πένοντο.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπελώβευον καὶ ἐκερτόμεον ἐπέεσσιν.\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·\nἦ μάλα Τηλέμαχος φόνον ἡμῖν μερμηρίζει.\nἤ τινας ἐκ Πύλου ἄξει ἀμύντορας ἠμαθόεντος\nἢ ὅ γε καὶ Σπάρτηθεν, ἐπεί νύ περ ἵεται αἰνῶς·\nἠὲ καὶ εἰς Ἐφύρην ἐθέλει, πίειραν ἄρουραν,\nἐλθεῖν, ὄφρʼ ἔνθεν θυμοφθόρα φάρμακʼ ἐνείκῃ,\nἐν δὲ βάλῃ κρητῆρι καὶ ἡμέας πάντας ὀλέσσῃ.\nἄλλος δʼ αὖτʼ εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·\nτίς δʼ οἶδʼ, εἴ κε καὶ αὐτὸς ἰὼν κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς\nτῆλε φίλων ἀπόληται ἀλώμενος ὥς περ Ὀδυσσεύς;\nοὕτω κεν καὶ μᾶλλον ὀφέλλειεν πόνον ἄμμιν·\nκτήματα γάρ κεν πάντα δασαίμεθα, οἰκία δʼ αὖτε\nτούτου μητέρι δοῖμεν ἔχειν ἠδʼ ὅς τις ὀπυίοι.\nὣς φάν, ὁ δʼ ὑψόροφον θάλαμον κατεβήσετο πατρὸς\nεὐρύν, ὅθι νητὸς χρυσὸς καὶ χαλκὸς ἔκειτο\nἐσθής τʼ ἐν χηλοῖσιν ἅλις τʼ ἐυῶδες ἔλαιον·\nἐν δὲ πίθοι οἴνοιο παλαιοῦ ἡδυπότοιο\nἕστασαν, ἄκρητον θεῖον ποτὸν ἐντὸς ἔχοντες,\nἑξείης ποτὶ τοῖχον ἀρηρότες, εἴ ποτʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nοἴκαδε νοστήσειε καὶ ἄλγεα πολλὰ μογήσας.\nκληισταὶ δʼ ἔπεσαν σανίδες πυκινῶς ἀραρυῖαι,\nδικλίδες· ἐν δὲ γυνὴ ταμίη νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ\nἔσχʼ, ἣ πάντʼ ἐφύλασσε νόου πολυϊδρείῃσιν,\nΕὐρύκλειʼ, Ὦπος θυγάτηρ Πεισηνορίδαο.\nτὴν τότε Τηλέμαχος προσέφη θαλαμόνδε καλέσσας·\nμαῖʼ, ἄγε δή μοι οἶνον ἐν ἀμφιφορεῦσιν ἄφυσσον\nἡδύν, ὅτις μετὰ τὸν λαρώτατος ὃν σὺ φυλάσσεις\nκεῖνον ὀιομένη τὸν κάμμορον, εἴ ποθεν ἔλθοι\nδιογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξας.\nδώδεκα δʼ ἔμπλησον καὶ πώμασιν ἄρσον ἅπαντας.\nἐν δέ μοι ἄλφιτα χεῦον ἐϋρραφέεσσι δοροῖσιν·\nεἴκοσι δʼ ἔστω μέτρα μυληφάτου ἀλφίτου ἀκτῆς.\nαὐτὴ δʼ οἴη ἴσθι· τὰ δʼ ἁθρόα πάντα τετύχθω·\nἑσπέριος γὰρ ἐγὼν αἱρήσομαι, ὁππότε κεν δὴ\nμήτηρ εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβῇ κοίτου τε μέδηται.\nεἶμι γὰρ ἐς Σπάρτην τε καὶ ἐς Πύλον ἠμαθόεντα\nνόστον πευσόμενος πατρὸς φίλου, ἤν που ἀκούσω.\nὣς φάτο, κώκυσεν δὲ φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια,\nκαί ῥʼ ὀλοφυρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nτίπτε δέ τοι, φίλε τέκνον, ἐνὶ φρεσὶ τοῦτο νόημα\nἔπλετο; πῇ δʼ ἐθέλεις ἰέναι πολλὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν\nμοῦνος ἐὼν ἀγαπητός; ὁ δʼ ὤλετο τηλόθι πάτρης\nδιογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς ἀλλογνώτῳ ἐνὶ δήμῳ.\nοἱ δέ τοι αὐτίκʼ ἰόντι κακὰ φράσσονται ὀπίσσω,\nὥς κε δόλῳ φθίῃς, τάδε δʼ αὐτοὶ πάντα δάσονται.\nἀλλὰ μένʼ αὖθʼ ἐπὶ σοῖσι καθήμενος· οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον κακὰ πάσχειν οὐδʼ ἀλάλησθαι.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nθάρσει, μαῖʼ, ἐπεὶ οὔ τοι ἄνευ θεοῦ ἥδε γε βουλή.\nἀλλʼ ὄμοσον μὴ μητρὶ φίλῃ τάδε μυθήσασθαι,\nπρίν γʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἑνδεκάτη τε δυωδεκάτη τε γένηται,\nἢ αὐτὴν ποθέσαι καὶ ἀφορμηθέντος ἀκοῦσαι,\nὡς ἂν μὴ κλαίουσα κατὰ χρόα καλὸν ἰάπτῃ.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρῆυς δὲ θεῶν μέγαν ὅρκον ἀπώμνυ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσέν τε τελεύτησέν τε τὸν ὅρκον,\nαὐτίκʼ ἔπειτά οἱ οἶνον ἐν ἀμφιφορεῦσιν ἄφυσσεν,\nἐν δέ οἱ ἄλφιτα χεῦεν ἐϋρραφέεσσι δοροῖσι.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἐς δώματʼ ἰὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμίλει.\nἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.\nΤηλεμάχῳ ἐικυῖα κατὰ πτόλιν ᾤχετο πάντῃ,\nκαί ῥα ἑκάστῳ φωτὶ παρισταμένη φάτο μῦθον,\nἑσπερίους δʼ ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν ἀγέρεσθαι ἀνώγει.\nἡ δʼ αὖτε Φρονίοιο Νοήμονα φαίδιμον υἱὸν\nᾔτεε νῆα θοήν· ὁ δέ οἱ πρόφρων ὑπέδεκτο.\nδύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί,\nκαὶ τότε νῆα θοὴν ἅλαδʼ εἴρυσε, πάντα δʼ ἐν αὐτῇ\nὅπλʼ ἐτίθει, τά τε νῆες ἐύσσελμοι φορέουσι.\nστῆσε δʼ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῇ λιμένος, περὶ δʼ ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι\nἁθρόοι ἠγερέθοντο· θεὰ δʼ ὤτρυνεν ἕκαστον.\nἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.\nβῆ ῥʼ ἰέναι πρὸς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο·\nἔνθα μνηστήρεσσιν ἐπὶ γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἔχευε,\nπλάζε δὲ πίνοντας, χειρῶν δʼ ἔκβαλλε κύπελλα.\nοἱ δʼ εὕδειν ὤρνυντο κατὰ πτόλιν, οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτι δὴν\nἥατʼ, ἐπεί σφισιν ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔπιπτεν.\nαὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχον προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη\nἐκπροκαλεσσαμένη μεγάρων ἐὺ ναιεταόντων,\nΜέντορι εἰδομένη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ αὐδήν·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, ἤδη μέν τοι ἐυκνήμιδες ἑταῖροι\nἥατʼ ἐπήρετμοι τὴν σὴν ποτιδέγμενοι ὁρμήν·\nἀλλʼ ἴομεν, μὴ δηθὰ διατρίβωμεν ὁδοῖο.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἡγήσατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη\nκαρπαλίμως· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα μετʼ ἴχνια βαῖνε θεοῖο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,\nεὗρον ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ θινὶ κάρη κομόωντας ἑταίρους.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειφʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο·\nδεῦτε, φίλοι, ἤια φερώμεθα· πάντα γὰρ ἤδη\nἁθρόʼ ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ. μήτηρ δʼ ἐμὴ οὔ τι πέπυσται,\nοὐδʼ ἄλλαι δμωαί, μία δʼ οἴη μῦθον ἄκουσεν.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἡγήσατο, τοὶ δʼ ἅμʼ ἕποντο.\nοἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντα φέροντες ἐυσσέλμῳ ἐπὶ νηὶ\nκάτθεσαν, ὡς ἐκέλευσεν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός.\nἂν δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος νηὸς βαῖνʼ, ἦρχε δʼ Ἀθήνη,\nνηὶ δʼ ἐνὶ πρυμνῇ κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο· ἄγχι δʼ ἄρʼ αὐτῆς\nἕζετο Τηλέμαχος. τοὶ δὲ πρυμνήσιʼ ἔλυσαν,\nἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βάντες ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον.\nτοῖσιν δʼ ἴκμενον οὖρον ἵει γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,\nἀκραῆ Ζέφυρον, κελάδοντʼ ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσεν\nὅπλων ἅπτεσθαι· τοὶ δʼ ὀτρύνοντος ἄκουσαν.\nἱστὸν δʼ εἰλάτινον κοίλης ἔντοσθε μεσόδμης\nστῆσαν ἀείραντες, κατὰ δὲ προτόνοισιν ἔδησαν,\nἕλκον δʼ ἱστία λευκὰ ἐυστρέπτοισι βοεῦσιν.\nἔπρησεν δʼ ἄνεμος μέσον ἱστίον, ἀμφὶ δὲ κῦμα\nστείρῃ πορφύρεον μεγάλʼ ἴαχε νηὸς ἰούσης·\nἡ δʼ ἔθεεν κατὰ κῦμα διαπρήσσουσα κέλευθον.\nδησάμενοι δʼ ἄρα ὅπλα θοὴν ἀνὰ νῆα μέλαιναν\nστήσαντο κρητῆρας ἐπιστεφέας οἴνοιο,\nλεῖβον δʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖς αἰειγενέτῃσιν,\nἐκ πάντων δὲ μάλιστα Διὸς γλαυκώπιδι κούρῃ.\nπαννυχίη μέν ῥʼ ἥ γε καὶ ἠῶ πεῖρε κέλευθον.\n\n### Book 3\n\nἨέλιος δʼ ἀνόρουσε, λιπὼν περικαλλέα λίμνην,\nοὐρανὸν ἐς πολύχαλκον, ἵνʼ ἀθανάτοισι φαείνοι\nκαὶ θνητοῖσι βροτοῖσιν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν·\nοἱ δὲ Πύλον, Νηλῆος ἐυκτίμενον πτολίεθρον,\nἷξον· τοὶ δʼ ἐπὶ θινὶ θαλάσσης ἱερὰ ῥέζον,\nταύρους παμμέλανας, ἐνοσίχθονι κυανοχαίτῃ.\nἐννέα δʼ ἕδραι ἔσαν, πεντακόσιοι δʼ ἐν ἑκάστῃ\nἥατο καὶ προύχοντο ἑκάστοθι ἐννέα ταύρους.\nεὖθʼ οἱ σπλάγχνα πάσαντο, θεῷ δʼ ἐπὶ μηρίʼ ἔκαιον,\nοἱ δʼ ἰθὺς κατάγοντο ἰδʼ ἱστία νηὸς ἐίσης\nστεῖλαν ἀείραντες, τὴν δʼ ὥρμισαν, ἐκ δʼ ἔβαν αὐτοί·\nἐκ δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος νηὸς βαῖνʼ, ἦρχε δʼ Ἀθήνη.\nτὸν προτέρη προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, οὐ μέν σε χρὴ ἔτʼ αἰδοῦς, οὐδʼ ἠβαιόν·\nτοὔνεκα γὰρ καὶ πόντον ἐπέπλως, ὄφρα πύθηαι\nπατρός, ὅπου κύθε γαῖα καὶ ὅν τινα πότμον ἐπέσπεν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἰθὺς κίε Νέστορος ἱπποδάμοιο·\nεἴδομεν ἥν τινα μῆτιν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κέκευθε.\nλίσσεσθαι δέ μιν αὐτός, ὅπως νημερτέα εἴπῃ·\nψεῦδος δʼ οὐκ ἐρέει· μάλα γὰρ πεπνυμένος ἐστί.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nΜέντορ, πῶς τʼ ἄρʼ ἴω; πῶς τʼ ἂρ προσπτύξομαι αὐτόν;\nοὐδέ τί πω μύθοισι πεπείρημαι πυκινοῖσιν·\nαἰδὼς δʼ αὖ νέον ἄνδρα γεραίτερον ἐξερέεσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, ἄλλα μὲν αὐτὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶ σῇσι νοήσεις,\nἄλλα δὲ καὶ δαίμων ὑποθήσεται· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω\nοὔ σε θεῶν ἀέκητι γενέσθαι τε τραφέμεν τε.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἡγήσατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη\nκαρπαλίμως· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα μετʼ ἴχνια βαῖνε θεοῖο.\nἷξον δʼ ἐς Πυλίων ἀνδρῶν ἄγυρίν τε καὶ ἕδρας,\nἔνθʼ ἄρα Νέστωρ ἧστο σὺν υἱάσιν, ἀμφὶ δʼ ἑταῖροι\nδαῖτʼ ἐντυνόμενοι κρέα τʼ ὤπτων ἄλλα τʼ ἔπειρον.\nοἱ δʼ ὡς οὖν ξείνους ἴδον, ἁθρόοι ἦλθον ἅπαντες,\nχερσίν τʼ ἠσπάζοντο καὶ ἑδριάασθαι ἄνωγον.\nπρῶτος Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος ἐγγύθεν ἐλθὼν\nἀμφοτέρων ἕλε χεῖρα καὶ ἵδρυσεν παρὰ δαιτὶ\nκώεσιν ἐν μαλακοῖσιν ἐπὶ ψαμάθοις ἁλίῃσιν\nπάρ τε κασιγνήτῳ Θρασυμήδεϊ καὶ πατέρι ᾧ·\nδῶκε δʼ ἄρα σπλάγχνων μοίρας, ἐν δʼ οἶνον ἔχευεν\nχρυσείῳ δέπαϊ· δειδισκόμενος δὲ προσηύδα\nΠαλλάδʼ Ἀθηναίην κούρην Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο·\nεὔχεο νῦν, ὦ ξεῖνε, Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι·\nτοῦ γὰρ καὶ δαίτης ἠντήσατε δεῦρο μολόντες.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν σπείσῃς τε καὶ εὔξεαι, ἣ θέμις ἐστί,\nδὸς καὶ τούτῳ ἔπειτα δέπας μελιηδέος οἴνου\nσπεῖσαι, ἐπεὶ καὶ τοῦτον ὀίομαι ἀθανάτοισιν\nεὔχεσθαι· πάντες δὲ θεῶν χατέουσʼ ἄνθρωποι.\nἀλλὰ νεώτερός ἐστιν, ὁμηλικίη δʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ·\nτοὔνεκα σοὶ προτέρῳ δώσω χρύσειον ἄλεισον.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἐν χειρὶ τίθει δέπας ἡδέος οἴνου·\nχαῖρε δʼ Ἀθηναίη πεπνυμένῳ ἀνδρὶ δικαίῳ,\nοὕνεκα οἷ προτέρῃ δῶκε χρύσειον ἄλεισον·\nαὐτίκα δʼ εὔχετο πολλὰ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι·\nκλῦθι, Ποσείδαον γαιήοχε, μηδὲ μεγήρῃς\nἡμῖν εὐχομένοισι τελευτῆσαι τάδε ἔργα.\nΝέστορι μὲν πρώτιστα καὶ υἱάσι κῦδος ὄπαζε,\nαὐτὰρ ἔπειτʼ ἄλλοισι δίδου χαρίεσσαν ἀμοιβὴν\nσύμπασιν Πυλίοισιν ἀγακλειτῆς ἑκατόμβης.\nδὸς δʼ ἔτι Τηλέμαχον καὶ ἐμὲ πρήξαντα νέεσθαι,\nοὕνεκα δεῦρʼ ἱκόμεσθα θοῇ σὺν νηὶ μελαίνῃ.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔπειτʼ ἠρᾶτο καὶ αὐτὴ πάντα τελεύτα.\nδῶκε δὲ Τηλεμάχῳ καλὸν δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον·\nὣς δʼ αὔτως ἠρᾶτο Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ὤπτησαν κρέʼ ὑπέρτερα καὶ ἐρύσαντο,\nμοίρας δασσάμενοι δαίνυντʼ ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nτοῖς ἄρα μύθων ἦρχε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·\nνῦν δὴ κάλλιόν ἐστι μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι\nξείνους, οἵ τινές εἰσιν, ἐπεὶ τάρπησαν ἐδωδῆς.\nὦ ξεῖνοι, τίνες ἐστέ; πόθεν πλεῖθʼ ὑγρὰ κέλευθα;\nἤ τι κατὰ πρῆξιν ἦ μαψιδίως ἀλάλησθε\nοἷά τε ληιστῆρες ὑπεὶρ ἅλα, τοί τʼ ἀλόωνται\nψυχὰς παρθέμενοι κακὸν ἀλλοδαποῖσι φέροντες;\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα\nθαρσήσας· αὐτὴ γὰρ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θάρσος Ἀθήνη\nθῆχʼ, ἵνα μιν περὶ πατρὸς ἀποιχομένοιο ἔροιτο\nἠδʼ ἵνα μιν κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔχῃσιν·\nὦ Νέστορ Νηληϊάδη, μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,\nεἴρεαι ὁππόθεν εἰμέν· ἐγὼ δέ κέ τοι καταλέξω.\nἡμεῖς ἐξ Ἰθάκης ὑπονηίου εἰλήλουθμεν·\nπρῆξις δʼ ἥδʼ ἰδίη, οὐ δήμιος, ἣν ἀγορεύω.\nπατρὸς ἐμοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ μετέρχομαι, ἤν που ἀκούσω,\nδίου Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος, ὅν ποτέ φασι\nσὺν σοὶ μαρνάμενον Τρώων πόλιν ἐξαλαπάξαι.\nἄλλους μὲν γὰρ πάντας, ὅσοι Τρωσὶν πολέμιζον,\nπευθόμεθʼ, ἧχι ἕκαστος ἀπώλετο λυγρῷ ὀλέθρῳ,\nκείνου δʼ αὖ καὶ ὄλεθρον ἀπευθέα θῆκε Κρονίων.\nοὐ γάρ τις δύναται σάφα εἰπέμεν ὁππόθʼ ὄλωλεν,\nεἴθʼ ὅ γʼ ἐπʼ ἠπείρου δάμη ἀνδράσι δυσμενέεσσιν,\nεἴτε καὶ ἐν πελάγει μετὰ κύμασιν Ἀμφιτρίτης.\nτοὔνεκα νῦν τὰ σὰ γούναθʼ ἱκάνομαι, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα\nκείνου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον ἐνισπεῖν, εἴ που ὄπωπας\nὀφθαλμοῖσι τεοῖσιν ἢ ἄλλου μῦθον ἄκουσας\nπλαζομένου· πέρι γάρ μιν ὀιζυρὸν τέκε μήτηρ.\nμηδέ τί μʼ αἰδόμενος μειλίσσεο μηδʼ ἐλεαίρων,\nἀλλʼ εὖ μοι κατάλεξον ὅπως ἤντησας ὀπωπῆς.\nλίσσομαι, εἴ ποτέ τοί τι πατὴρ ἐμός, ἐσθλὸς Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἢ ἔπος ἠέ τι ἔργον ὑποστὰς ἐξετέλεσσε\nδήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχετε πήματʼ Ἀχαιοί,\nτῶν νῦν μοι μνῆσαι, καί μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·\nὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεί μʼ ἔμνησας ὀιζύος, ἣν ἐν ἐκείνῳ\nδήμῳ ἀνέτλημεν μένος ἄσχετοι υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,\nἠμὲν ὅσα ξὺν νηυσὶν ἐπʼ ἠεροειδέα πόντον\nπλαζόμενοι κατὰ ληίδʼ, ὅπῃ ἄρξειεν Ἀχιλλεύς,\nἠδʼ ὅσα καὶ περὶ ἄστυ μέγα Πριάμοιο ἄνακτος\nμαρνάμεθʼ· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα κατέκταθεν ὅσσοι ἄριστοι.\nἔνθα μὲν Αἴας κεῖται ἀρήιος, ἔνθα δʼ Ἀχιλλεύς,\nἔνθα δὲ Πάτροκλος, θεόφιν μήστωρ ἀτάλαντος,\nἔνθα δʼ ἐμὸς φίλος υἱός, ἅμα κρατερὸς καὶ ἀμύμων,\nἈντίλοχος, πέρι μὲν θείειν ταχὺς ἠδὲ μαχητής·\nἄλλα τε πόλλʼ ἐπὶ τοῖς πάθομεν κακά· τίς κεν ἐκεῖνα\nπάντα γε μυθήσαιτο καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων;\nοὐδʼ εἰ πεντάετές γε καὶ ἑξάετες παραμίμνων\nἐξερέοις ὅσα κεῖθι πάθον κακὰ δῖοι Ἀχαιοί·\nπρίν κεν ἀνιηθεὶς σὴν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκοιο.\nεἰνάετες γάρ σφιν κακὰ ῥάπτομεν ἀμφιέποντες\nπαντοίοισι δόλοισι, μόγις δʼ ἐτέλεσσε Κρονίων.\nἔνθʼ οὔ τίς ποτε μῆτιν ὁμοιωθήμεναι ἄντην\nἤθελʼ, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὸν ἐνίκα δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nπαντοίοισι δόλοισι, πατὴρ τεός, εἰ ἐτεόν γε\nκείνου ἔκγονός ἐσσι· σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.\nἦ τοι γὰρ μῦθοί γε ἐοικότες, οὐδέ κε φαίης\nἄνδρα νεώτερον ὧδε ἐοικότα μυθήσασθαι.\nἔνθʼ ἦ τοι ἧος μὲν ἐγὼ καὶ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nοὔτε ποτʼ εἰν ἀγορῇ δίχʼ ἐβάζομεν οὔτʼ ἐνὶ βουλῇ,\nἀλλʼ ἕνα θυμὸν ἔχοντε νόῳ καὶ ἐπίφρονι βουλῇ\nφραζόμεθʼ Ἀργείοισιν ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένοιτο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Πριάμοιο πόλιν διεπέρσαμεν αἰπήν,\nβῆμεν δʼ ἐν νήεσσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐκέδασσεν Ἀχαιούς,\nκαὶ τότε δὴ Ζεὺς λυγρὸν ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μήδετο νόστον\nἈργείοις, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι νοήμονες οὐδὲ δίκαιοι\nπάντες ἔσαν· τῶ σφεων πολέες κακὸν οἶτον ἐπέσπον\nμήνιος ἐξ ὀλοῆς γλαυκώπιδος ὀβριμοπάτρης.\nἥ τʼ ἔριν Ἀτρεΐδῃσι μετʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἔθηκε.\nτὼ δὲ καλεσσαμένω ἀγορὴν ἐς πάντας Ἀχαιούς,\nμάψ, ἀτὰρ οὐ κατὰ κόσμον, ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα,\nοἱ δʼ ἦλθον οἴνῳ βεβαρηότες υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,\nμῦθον μυθείσθην, τοῦ εἵνεκα λαὸν ἄγειραν.\nἔνθʼ ἦ τοι Μενέλαος ἀνώγει πάντας Ἀχαιοὺς\nνόστου μιμνήσκεσθαι ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης,\nοὐδʼ Ἀγαμέμνονι πάμπαν ἑήνδανε· βούλετο γάρ ῥα\nλαὸν ἐρυκακέειν ῥέξαι θʼ ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας,\nὡς τὸν Ἀθηναίης δεινὸν χόλον ἐξακέσαιτο,\nνήπιος, οὐδὲ τὸ ᾔδη, ὃ οὐ πείσεσθαι ἔμελλεν·\nοὐ γάρ τʼ αἶψα θεῶν τρέπεται νόος αἰὲν ἐόντων.\nὣς τὼ μὲν χαλεποῖσιν ἀμειβομένω ἐπέεσσιν\nἕστασαν· οἱ δʼ ἀνόρουσαν ἐυκνήμιδες Ἀχαιοὶ\nἠχῇ θεσπεσίῃ, δίχα δέ σφισιν ἥνδανε βουλή.\nνύκτα μὲν ἀέσαμεν χαλεπὰ φρεσὶν ὁρμαίνοντες\nἀλλήλοις· ἐπὶ γὰρ Ζεὺς ἤρτυε πῆμα κακοῖο·\nἠῶθεν δʼ οἱ μὲν νέας ἕλκομεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν\nκτήματά τʼ ἐντιθέμεσθα βαθυζώνους τε γυναῖκας.\nἡμίσεες δʼ ἄρα λαοὶ ἐρητύοντο μένοντες\nαὖθι παρʼ Ἀτρεΐδῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι, ποιμένι λαῶν·\nἡμίσεες δʼ ἀναβάντες ἐλαύνομεν· αἱ δὲ μάλʼ ὦκα\nἔπλεον, ἐστόρεσεν δὲ θεὸς μεγακήτεα πόντον.\nἐς Τένεδον δʼ ἐλθόντες ἐρέξαμεν ἱρὰ θεοῖσιν,\nοἴκαδε ἱέμενοι· Ζεὺς δʼ οὔ πω μήδετο νόστον,\nσχέτλιος, ὅς ῥʼ ἔριν ὦρσε κακὴν ἔπι δεύτερον αὖτις.\nοἱ μὲν ἀποστρέψαντες ἔβαν νέας ἀμφιελίσσας\nἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἄνακτα δαΐφρονα, ποικιλομήτην,\nαὖτις ἐπʼ Ἀτρεΐδῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι ἦρα φέροντες·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σὺν νηυσὶν ἀολλέσιν, αἵ μοι ἕποντο,\nφεῦγον, ἐπεὶ γίγνωσκον, ὃ δὴ κακὰ μήδετο δαίμων.\nφεῦγε δὲ Τυδέος υἱὸς ἀρήιος, ὦρσε δʼ ἑταίρους.\nὀψὲ δὲ δὴ μετὰ νῶι κίε ξανθὸς Μενέλαος,\nἐν Λέσβῳ δʼ ἔκιχεν δολιχὸν πλόον ὁρμαίνοντας,\nἢ καθύπερθε Χίοιο νεοίμεθα παιπαλοέσσης,\nνήσου ἔπι Ψυρίης, αὐτὴν ἐπʼ ἀριστέρʼ ἔχοντες,\nἦ ὑπένερθε Χίοιο, παρʼ ἠνεμόεντα Μίμαντα.\nᾐτέομεν δὲ θεὸν φῆναι τέρας· αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ ἡμῖν\nδεῖξε, καὶ ἠνώγει πέλαγος μέσον εἰς Ἐύβοιαν\nτέμνειν, ὄφρα τάχιστα ὑπὲκ κακότητα φύγοιμεν.\nὦρτο δʼ ἐπὶ λιγὺς οὖρος ἀήμεναι· αἱ δὲ μάλʼ ὦκα\nἰχθυόεντα κέλευθα διέδραμον, ἐς δὲ Γεραιστὸν\nἐννύχιαι κατάγοντο· Ποσειδάωνι δὲ ταύρων\nπόλλʼ ἐπὶ μῆρʼ ἔθεμεν, πέλαγος μέγα μετρήσαντες.\nτέτρατον ἦμαρ ἔην, ὅτʼ ἐν Ἄργεϊ νῆας ἐίσας\nΤυδεΐδεω ἕταροι Διομήδεος ἱπποδάμοιο\nἵστασαν· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε Πύλονδʼ ἔχον, οὐδέ ποτʼ ἔσβη\nοὖρος, ἐπεὶ δὴ πρῶτα θεὸς προέηκεν ἀῆναι.\nὣς ἦλθον, φίλε τέκνον, ἀπευθής, οὐδέ τι οἶδα\nκείνων, οἵ τʼ ἐσάωθεν Ἀχαιῶν οἵ τʼ ἀπόλοντο.\nὅσσα δʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι καθήμενος ἡμετέροισι\nπεύθομαι, ἣ θέμις ἐστί, δαήσεαι, οὐδέ σε κεύσω.\nεὖ μὲν Μυρμιδόνας φάσʼ ἐλθέμεν ἐγχεσιμώρους,\nοὓς ἄγʼ Ἀχιλλῆος μεγαθύμου φαίδιμος υἱός,\nεὖ δὲ Φιλοκτήτην, Ποιάντιον ἀγλαὸν υἱόν.\nπάντας δʼ Ἰδομενεὺς Κρήτην εἰσήγαγʼ ἑταίρους,\nοἳ φύγον ἐκ πολέμου, πόντος δέ οἱ οὔ τινʼ ἀπηύρα.\nἈτρεΐδην δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ ἀκούετε, νόσφιν ἐόντες,\nὥς τʼ ἦλθʼ, ὥς τʼ Αἴγισθος ἐμήσατο λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι κεῖνος μὲν ἐπισμυγερῶς ἀπέτισεν·\nὡς ἀγαθὸν καὶ παῖδα καταφθιμένοιο λιπέσθαι\nἀνδρός, ἐπεὶ καὶ κεῖνος ἐτίσατο πατροφονῆα,\nΑἴγισθον δολόμητιν, ὅ οἱ πατέρα κλυτὸν ἔκτα.\nκαὶ σὺ φίλος, μάλα γάρ σʼ ὁρόω καλόν τε μέγαν τε,\nἄλκιμος ἔσσʼ, ἵνα τίς σε καὶ ὀψιγόνων ἐὺ εἴπῃ.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nὦ Νέστορ Νηληϊάδη, μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,\nκαὶ λίην κεῖνος μὲν ἐτίσατο, καί οἱ Ἀχαιοὶ\nοἴσουσι κλέος εὐρὺ καὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι·\nαἲ γὰρ ἐμοὶ τοσσήνδε θεοὶ δύναμιν περιθεῖεν,\nτίσασθαι μνηστῆρας ὑπερβασίης ἀλεγεινῆς,\nοἵ τέ μοι ὑβρίζοντες ἀτάσθαλα μηχανόωνται.\nἀλλʼ οὔ μοι τοιοῦτον ἐπέκλωσαν θεοὶ ὄλβον,\nπατρί τʼ ἐμῷ καὶ ἐμοί· νῦν δὲ χρὴ τετλάμεν ἔμπης.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·\nὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεὶ δὴ ταῦτά μʼ ἀνέμνησας καὶ ἔειπες,\nφασὶ μνηστῆρας σῆς μητέρος εἵνεκα πολλοὺς\nἐν μεγάροις ἀέκητι σέθεν κακὰ μηχανάασθαι·\nεἰπέ μοι, ἠὲ ἑκὼν ὑποδάμνασαι, ἦ σέ γε λαοὶ\nἐχθαίρουσʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον, ἐπισπόμενοι θεοῦ ὀμφῇ.\nτίς δʼ οἶδʼ εἴ κέ ποτέ σφι βίας ἀποτίσεται ἐλθών,\nἢ ὅ γε μοῦνος ἐὼν ἢ καὶ σύμπαντες Ἀχαιοί;\nεἰ γάρ σʼ ὣς ἐθέλοι φιλέειν γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,\nὡς τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆος περικήδετο κυδαλίμοιο\nδήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχομεν ἄλγεʼ Ἀχαιοί—\nοὐ γάρ πω ἴδον ὧδε θεοὺς ἀναφανδὰ φιλεῦντας,\nὡς κείνῳ ἀναφανδὰ παρίστατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη—\nεἴ σʼ οὕτως ἐθέλοι φιλέειν κήδοιτό τε θυμῷ,\nτῶ κέν τις κείνων γε καὶ ἐκλελάθοιτο γάμοιο.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nὦ γέρον, οὔ πω τοῦτο ἔπος τελέεσθαι ὀίω·\nλίην γὰρ μέγα εἶπες· ἄγη μʼ ἔχει. οὐκ ἂν ἐμοί γε\nἐλπομένῳ τὰ γένοιτʼ, οὐδʼ εἰ θεοὶ ὣς ἐθέλοιεν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nΤηλέμαχε, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων.\nῥεῖα θεός γʼ ἐθέλων καὶ τηλόθεν ἄνδρα σαώσαι.\nβουλοίμην δʼ ἂν ἐγώ γε καὶ ἄλγεα πολλὰ μογήσας\nοἴκαδέ τʼ ἐλθέμεναι καὶ νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἰδέσθαι,\nἢ ἐλθὼν ἀπολέσθαι ἐφέστιος, ὡς Ἀγαμέμνων\nὤλεθʼ ὑπʼ Αἰγίσθοιο δόλῳ καὶ ἧς ἀλόχοιο.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι θάνατον μὲν ὁμοίιον οὐδὲ θεοί περ\nκαὶ φίλῳ ἀνδρὶ δύνανται ἀλαλκέμεν, ὁππότε κεν δὴ\nμοῖρʼ ὀλοὴ καθέλῃσι τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nΜέντορ, μηκέτι ταῦτα λεγώμεθα κηδόμενοί περ·\nκείνῳ δʼ οὐκέτι νόστος ἐτήτυμος, ἀλλά οἱ ἤδη\nφράσσαντʼ ἀθάνατοι θάνατον καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν.\nνῦν δʼ ἐθέλω ἔπος ἄλλο μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι\nΝέστορʼ, ἐπεὶ περὶ οἶδε δίκας ἠδὲ φρόνιν ἄλλων·\nτρὶς γὰρ δή μίν φασιν ἀνάξασθαι γένεʼ ἀνδρῶν·\nὥς τέ μοι ἀθάνατος ἰνδάλλεται εἰσοράασθαι.\nὦ Νέστορ Νηληϊάδη, σὺ δʼ ἀληθὲς ἐνίσπες·\nπῶς ἔθανʼ Ἀτρεΐδης εὐρὺ κρείων Ἀγαμέμνων;\nποῦ Μενέλαος ἔην; τίνα δʼ αὐτῷ μήσατʼ ὄλεθρον\nΑἴγισθος δολόμητις, ἐπεὶ κτάνε πολλὸν ἀρείω;\nἦ οὐκ Ἄργεος ἦεν Ἀχαιικοῦ, ἀλλά πῃ ἄλλῃ\nπλάζετʼ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους, ὁ δὲ θαρσήσας κατέπεφνε;\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, τέκνον, ἀληθέα πάντʼ ἀγορεύσω.\nἦ τοι μὲν τάδε καὐτὸς ὀίεαι, ὥς κεν ἐτύχθη,\nεἰ ζωόν γʼ Αἴγισθον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔτετμεν\nἈτρεΐδης Τροίηθεν ἰών, ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·\nτῶ κέ οἱ οὐδὲ θανόντι χυτὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἔχευαν,\nἀλλʼ ἄρα τόν γε κύνες τε καὶ οἰωνοὶ κατέδαψαν\nκείμενον ἐν πεδίῳ ἑκὰς ἄστεος, οὐδέ κέ τίς μιν\nκλαῦσεν Ἀχαιιάδων· μάλα γὰρ μέγα μήσατο ἔργον.\nἡμεῖς μὲν γὰρ κεῖθι πολέας τελέοντες ἀέθλους\nἥμεθʼ· ὁ δʼ εὔκηλος μυχῷ Ἄργεος ἱπποβότοιο\nπόλλʼ Ἀγαμεμνονέην ἄλοχον θέλγεσκʼ ἐπέεσσιν.\nἡ δʼ ἦ τοι τὸ πρὶν μὲν ἀναίνετο ἔργον ἀεικὲς\nδῖα Κλυταιμνήστρη· φρεσὶ γὰρ κέχρητʼ ἀγαθῇσι·\nπὰρ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔην καὶ ἀοιδὸς ἀνήρ, ᾧ πόλλʼ ἐπέτελλεν\nἈτρεΐδης Τροίηνδε κιὼν εἴρυσθαι ἄκοιτιν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή μιν μοῖρα θεῶν ἐπέδησε δαμῆναι,\nδὴ τότε τὸν μὲν ἀοιδὸν ἄγων ἐς νῆσον ἐρήμην\nκάλλιπεν οἰωνοῖσιν ἕλωρ καὶ κύρμα γενέσθαι,\nτὴν δʼ ἐθέλων ἐθέλουσαν ἀνήγαγεν ὅνδε δόμονδε.\nπολλὰ δὲ μηρίʼ ἔκηε θεῶν ἱεροῖς ἐπὶ βωμοῖς,\nπολλὰ δʼ ἀγάλματʼ ἀνῆψεν, ὑφάσματά τε χρυσόν τε,\nἐκτελέσας μέγα ἔργον, ὃ οὔ ποτε ἔλπετο θυμῷ.\nἡμεῖς μὲν γὰρ ἅμα πλέομεν Τροίηθεν ἰόντες,\nἈτρεΐδης καὶ ἐγώ, φίλα εἰδότες ἀλλήλοισιν·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε Σούνιον ἱρὸν ἀφικόμεθʼ, ἄκρον Ἀθηνέων,\nἔνθα κυβερνήτην Μενελάου Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων\nοἷς ἀγανοῖς βελέεσσιν ἐποιχόμενος κατέπεφνε,\nπηδάλιον μετὰ χερσὶ θεούσης νηὸς ἔχοντα,\nΦρόντιν Ὀνητορίδην, ὃς ἐκαίνυτο φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων\nνῆα κυβερνῆσαι, ὁπότε σπέρχοιεν ἄελλαι.\nὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθα κατέσχετʼ, ἐπειγόμενός περ ὁδοῖο,\nὄφρʼ ἕταρον θάπτοι καὶ ἐπὶ κτέρεα κτερίσειεν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ καὶ κεῖνος ἰὼν ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον\nἐν νηυσὶ γλαφυρῇσι Μαλειάων ὄρος αἰπὺ\nἷξε θέων, τότε δὴ στυγερὴν ὁδὸν εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς\nἐφράσατο, λιγέων δʼ ἀνέμων ἐπʼ ἀυτμένα χεῦε,\nκύματά τε τροφέοντο πελώρια, ἶσα ὄρεσσιν.\nἔνθα διατμήξας τὰς μὲν Κρήτῃ ἐπέλασσεν,\nἧχι Κύδωνες ἔναιον Ἰαρδάνου ἀμφὶ ῥέεθρα.\nἔστι δέ τις λισσὴ αἰπεῖά τε εἰς ἅλα πέτρη\nἐσχατιῇ Γόρτυνος ἐν ἠεροειδέι πόντῳ·\nἔνθα Νότος μέγα κῦμα ποτὶ σκαιὸν ῥίον ὠθεῖ,\nἐς Φαιστόν, μικρὸς δὲ λίθος μέγα κῦμʼ ἀποέργει.\nαἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἔνθʼ ἦλθον, σπουδῇ δʼ ἤλυξαν ὄλεθρον\nἄνδρες, ἀτὰρ νῆάς γε ποτὶ σπιλάδεσσιν ἔαξαν\nκύματʼ· ἀτὰρ τὰς πέντε νέας κυανοπρῳρείους\nΑἰγύπτῳ ἐπέλασσε φέρων ἄνεμός τε καὶ ὕδωρ.\nὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθα πολὺν βίοτον καὶ χρυσὸν ἀγείρων\nἠλᾶτο ξὺν νηυσὶ κατʼ ἀλλοθρόους ἀνθρώπους·\nτόφρα δὲ ταῦτʼ Αἴγισθος ἐμήσατο οἴκοθι λυγρά.\nἑπτάετες δʼ ἤνασσε πολυχρύσοιο Μυκήνης,\nκτείνας Ἀτρεΐδην, δέδμητο δὲ λαὸς ὑπʼ αὐτῷ.\nτῷ δέ οἱ ὀγδοάτῳ κακὸν ἤλυθε δῖος Ὀρέστης\nἂψ ἀπʼ Ἀθηνάων, κατὰ δʼ ἔκτανε πατροφονῆα,\nΑἴγισθον δολόμητιν, ὅ οἱ πατέρα κλυτὸν ἔκτα.\nἦ τοι ὁ τὸν κτείνας δαίνυ τάφον Ἀργείοισιν\nμητρός τε στυγερῆς καὶ ἀνάλκιδος Αἰγίσθοιο·\nαὐτῆμαρ δέ οἱ ἦλθε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος\nπολλὰ κτήματʼ ἄγων, ὅσα οἱ νέες ἄχθος ἄειραν.\nκαὶ σύ, φίλος, μὴ δηθὰ δόμων ἄπο τῆλʼ ἀλάλησο,\nκτήματά τε προλιπὼν ἄνδρας τʼ ἐν σοῖσι δόμοισιν\nοὕτω ὑπερφιάλους, μή τοι κατὰ πάντα φάγωσιν\nκτήματα δασσάμενοι, σὺ δὲ τηϋσίην ὁδὸν ἔλθῃς.\nἀλλʼ ἐς μὲν Μενέλαον ἐγὼ κέλομαι καὶ ἄνωγα\nἐλθεῖν· κεῖνος γὰρ νέον ἄλλοθεν εἰλήλουθεν,\nἐκ τῶν ἀνθρώπων, ὅθεν οὐκ ἔλποιτό γε θυμῷ\nἐλθέμεν, ὅν τινα πρῶτον ἀποσφήλωσιν ἄελλαι\nἐς πέλαγος μέγα τοῖον, ὅθεν τέ περ οὐδʼ οἰωνοὶ\nαὐτόετες οἰχνεῦσιν, ἐπεὶ μέγα τε δεινόν τε.\nἀλλʼ ἴθι νῦν σὺν νηί τε σῇ καὶ σοῖς ἑτάροισιν·\nεἰ δʼ ἐθέλεις πεζός, πάρα τοι δίφρος τε καὶ ἵπποι,\nπὰρ δέ τοι υἷες ἐμοί, οἵ τοι πομπῆες ἔσονται\nἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν, ὅθι ξανθὸς Μενέλαος.\nλίσσεσθαι δέ μιν αὐτός, ἵνα νημερτὲς ἐνίσπῃ·\nψεῦδος δʼ οὐκ ἐρέει· μάλα γὰρ πεπνυμένος ἐστίν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, ἠέλιος δʼ ἄρʼ ἔδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθε.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nὦ γέρον, ἦ τοι ταῦτα κατὰ μοῖραν κατέλεξας·\nἀλλʼ ἄγε τάμνετε μὲν γλώσσας, κεράασθε δὲ οἶνον,\nὄφρα Ποσειδάωνι καὶ ἄλλοις ἀθανάτοισιν\nσπείσαντες κοίτοιο μεδώμεθα· τοῖο γὰρ ὥρη.\nἤδη γὰρ φάος οἴχεθʼ ὑπὸ ζόφον, οὐδὲ ἔοικεν·\nδηθὰ θεῶν ἐν δαιτὶ θαασσέμεν, ἀλλὰ νέεσθαι.\nἦ ῥα Διὸς θυγάτηρ, οἱ δʼ ἔκλυον αὐδησάσης.\nτοῖσι δὲ κήρυκες μὲν ὕδωρ ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἔχευαν,\nκοῦροι δὲ κρητῆρας ἐπεστέψαντο ποτοῖο,\nνώμησαν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπαρξάμενοι δεπάεσσι·\nγλώσσας δʼ ἐν πυρὶ βάλλον, ἀνιστάμενοι δʼ ἐπέλειβον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιον θʼ, ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,\nδὴ τότʼ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Τηλέμαχος θεοειδὴς\nἄμφω ἱέσθην κοίλην ἐπὶ νῆα νέεσθαι.\nΝέστωρ δʼ αὖ κατέρυκε καθαπτόμενος ἐπέεσσιν·\nΖεὺς τό γʼ ἀλεξήσειε καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι,\nὡς ὑμεῖς παρʼ ἐμεῖο θοὴν ἐπὶ νῆα κίοιτε\nὥς τέ τευ ἦ παρὰ πάμπαν ἀνείμονος ἠδὲ πενιχροῦ,\nᾧ οὔ τι χλαῖναι καὶ ῥήγεα πόλλʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nοὔτʼ αὐτῷ μαλακῶς οὔτε ξείνοισιν ἐνεύδειν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ πάρα μὲν χλαῖναι καὶ ῥήγεα καλά.\nοὔ θην δὴ τοῦδʼ ἀνδρὸς Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱὸς\nνηὸς ἐπʼ ἰκριόφιν καταλέξεται, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἐγώ γε\nζώω, ἔπειτα δὲ παῖδες ἐνὶ μεγάροισι λίπωνται,\nξείνους ξεινίζειν, ὅς τίς κʼ ἐμὰ δώμαθʼ ἵκηται.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nεὖ δὴ ταῦτά γʼ ἔφησθα, γέρον φίλε· σοὶ δὲ ἔοικεν\nΤηλέμαχον πείθεσθαι, ἐπεὶ πολὺ κάλλιον οὕτως.\nἀλλʼ οὗτος μὲν νῦν σοὶ ἅμʼ ἕψεται, ὄφρα κεν εὕδῃ\nσοῖσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν\nεἶμʼ, ἵνα θαρσύνω θʼ ἑτάρους εἴπω τε ἕκαστα.\nοἶος γὰρ μετὰ τοῖσι γεραίτερος εὔχομαι εἶναι·\nοἱ δʼ ἄλλοι φιλότητι νεώτεροι ἄνδρες ἕπονται,\nπάντες ὁμηλικίη μεγαθύμου Τηλεμάχοιο.\nἔνθα κε λεξαίμην κοίλῃ παρὰ νηὶ μελαίνῃ\nνῦν· ἀτὰρ ἠῶθεν μετὰ Καύκωνας μεγαθύμους\nεἶμʼ ἔνθα χρεῖός μοι ὀφέλλεται, οὔ τι νέον γε\nοὐδʼ ὀλίγον. σὺ δὲ τοῦτον, ἐπεὶ τεὸν ἵκετο δῶμα,\nπέμψον σὺν δίφρῳ τε καὶ υἱέι· δὸς δέ οἱ ἵππους,\nοἵ τοι ἐλαφρότατοι θείειν καὶ κάρτος ἄριστοι.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη\nφήνῃ εἰδομένη· θάμβος δʼ ἕλε πάντας ἰδόντας.\nθαύμαζεν δʼ ὁ γεραιός, ὅπως ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσι·\nΤηλεμάχου δʼ ἕλε χεῖρα, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nὦ φίλος, οὔ σε ἔολπα κακὸν καὶ ἄναλκιν ἔσεσθαι,\nεἰ δή τοι νέῳ ὧδε θεοὶ πομπῆες ἕπονται.\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τις ὅδʼ ἄλλος Ὀλύμπια δώματʼ ἐχόντων,\nἀλλὰ Διὸς θυγάτηρ, κυδίστη Τριτογένεια,\nἥ τοι καὶ πατέρʼ ἐσθλὸν ἐν Ἀργείοισιν ἐτίμα.\nἀλλὰ ἄνασσʼ ἵληθι, δίδωθι δέ μοι κλέος ἐσθλόν,\nαὐτῷ καὶ παίδεσσι καὶ αἰδοίῃ παρακοίτι·\nσοὶ δʼ αὖ ἐγὼ ῥέξω βοῦν ἦνιν εὐρυμέτωπον\nἀδμήτην, ἣν οὔ πω ὑπὸ ζυγὸν ἤγαγεν ἀνήρ·\nτήν τοι ἐγὼ ῥέξω χρυσὸν κέρασιν περιχεύας.\nὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος, τοῦ δʼ ἔκλυε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.\nτοῖσιν δʼ ἡγεμόνευε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ,\nυἱάσι καὶ γαμβροῖσιν, ἑὰ πρὸς δώματα καλά.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δώμαθʼ ἵκοντο ἀγακλυτὰ τοῖο ἄνακτος,\nἑξείης ἕζοντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε·\nτοῖς δʼ ὁ γέρων ἐλθοῦσιν ἀνὰ κρητῆρα κέρασσεν\nοἴνου ἡδυπότοιο, τὸν ἑνδεκάτῳ ἐνιαυτῷ\nὤιξεν ταμίη καὶ ἀπὸ κρήδεμνον ἔλυσε·\nτοῦ ὁ γέρων κρητῆρα κεράσσατο, πολλὰ δʼ Ἀθήνῃ\nεὔχετʼ ἀποσπένδων, κούρῃ Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιον θʼ, ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,\nοἱ μὲν κακκείοντες ἔβαν οἶκόνδε ἕκαστος,\nτὸν δʼ αὐτοῦ κοίμησε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ,\nΤηλέμαχον, φίλον υἱὸν Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,\nτρητοῖς ἐν λεχέεσσιν ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ ἐριδούπῳ,\nπὰρʼ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐυμμελίην Πεισίστρατον, ὄρχαμον ἀνδρῶν,\nὅς οἱ ἔτʼ ἠίθεος παίδων ἦν ἐν μεγάροισιν·\nαὐτὸς δʼ αὖτε καθεῦδε μυχῷ δόμου ὑψηλοῖο,\nτῷ δʼ ἄλοχος δέσποινα λέχος πόρσυνε καὶ εὐνήν.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nὤρνυτʼ ἄρʼ ἐξ εὐνῆφι Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ,\nἐκ δʼ ἐλθὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ ξεστοῖσι λίθοισιν,\nοἵ οἱ ἔσαν προπάροιθε θυράων ὑψηλάων,\nλευκοί, ἀποστίλβοντες ἀλείφατος· οἷς ἔπι μὲν πρὶν\nΝηλεὺς ἵζεσκεν, θεόφιν μήστωρ ἀτάλαντος·\nἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἤδη κηρὶ δαμεὶς Ἄϊδόσδε βεβήκει,\nΝέστωρ αὖ τότʼ ἐφῖζε Γερήνιος, οὖρος Ἀχαιῶν,\nσκῆπτρον ἔχων. περὶ δʼ υἷες ἀολλέες ἠγερέθοντο\nἐκ θαλάμων ἐλθόντες, Ἐχέφρων τε Στρατίος τε\nΠερσεύς τʼ Ἄρητός τε καὶ ἀντίθεος Θρασυμήδης.\nτοῖσι δʼ ἔπειθʼ ἕκτος Πεισίστρατος ἤλυθεν ἥρως,\nπὰρ δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχον θεοείκελον εἷσαν ἄγοντες.\nτοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·\nκαρπαλίμως μοι, τέκνα φίλα, κρηήνατʼ ἐέλδωρ,\nὄφρʼ ἦ τοι πρώτιστα θεῶν ἱλάσσομʼ Ἀθήνην,\nἥ μοι ἐναργὴς ἦλθε θεοῦ ἐς δαῖτα θάλειαν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ὁ μὲν πεδίονδʼ ἐπὶ βοῦν, ἴτω, ὄφρα τάχιστα\nἔλθῃσιν, ἐλάσῃ δὲ βοῶν ἐπιβουκόλος ἀνήρ·\nεἷς δʼ ἐπὶ Τηλεμάχου μεγαθύμου νῆα μέλαιναν\nπάντας ἰὼν ἑτάρους ἀγέτω, λιπέτω δὲ δύʼ οἴους·\nεἷς δʼ αὖ χρυσοχόον Λαέρκεα δεῦρο κελέσθω\nἐλθεῖν, ὄφρα βοὸς χρυσὸν κέρασιν περιχεύῃ.\nοἱ δʼ ἄλλοι μένετʼ αὐτοῦ ἀολλέες, εἴπατε δʼ εἴσω\nδμῳῇσιν κατὰ δώματʼ ἀγακλυτὰ δαῖτα πένεσθαι,\nἕδρας τε ξύλα τʼ ἀμφὶ καὶ ἀγλαὸν οἰσέμεν ὕδωρ.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐποίπνυον. ἦλθε μὲν ἂρ βοῦς\nἐκ πεδίου, ἦλθον δὲ θοῆς παρὰ νηὸς ἐίσης\nΤηλεμάχου ἕταροι μεγαλήτορος, ἦλθε δὲ χαλκεὺς\nὅπλʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἔχων χαλκήια, πείρατα τέχνης,\nἄκμονά τε σφῦράν τʼ ἐυποίητόν τε πυράγρην,\nοἷσίν τε χρυσὸν εἰργάζετο· ἦλθε δʼ Ἀθήνη\nἱρῶν ἀντιόωσα. γέρων δʼ ἱππηλάτα Νέστωρ\nχρυσὸν ἔδωχʼ· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα βοὸς κέρασιν περίχευεν\nἀσκήσας, ἵνʼ ἄγαλμα θεὰ κεχάροιτο ἰδοῦσα.\nβοῦν δʼ ἀγέτην κεράων Στρατίος καὶ δῖος Ἐχέφρων.\nχέρνιβα δέ σφʼ Ἄρητος ἐν ἀνθεμόεντι λέβητι\nἤλυθεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο φέρων, ἑτέρῃ δʼ ἔχεν οὐλὰς\nἐν κανέῳ πέλεκυν δὲ μενεπτόλεμος Θρασυμήδης\nὀξὺν ἔχων ἐν χειρὶ παρίστατο βοῦν ἐπικόψων.\nΠερσεὺς δʼ ἀμνίον εἶχε· γέρων δʼ ἱππηλάτα Νέστωρ\nχέρνιβά τʼ οὐλοχύτας τε κατήρχετο, πολλὰ δʼ Ἀθήνῃ\nεὔχετʼ ἀπαρχόμενος, κεφαλῆς τρίχας ἐν πυρὶ βάλλων.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ εὔξαντο καὶ οὐλοχύτας προβάλοντο,\nαὐτίκα Νέστορος υἱὸς ὑπέρθυμος Θρασυμήδης\nἤλασεν ἄγχι στάς· πέλεκυς δʼ ἀπέκοψε τένοντας\nαὐχενίους, λῦσεν δὲ βοὸς μένος. αἱ δʼ ὀλόλυξαν\nθυγατέρες τε νυοί τε καὶ αἰδοίη παράκοιτις\nΝέστορος, Εὐρυδίκη, πρέσβα Κλυμένοιο θυγατρῶν.\nοἱ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀνελόντες ἀπὸ χθονὸς εὐρυοδείης\nἔσχον· ἀτὰρ σφάξεν Πεισίστρατος, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν.\nτῆς δʼ ἐπεὶ ἐκ μέλαν αἷμα ῥύη, λίπε δʼ ὀστέα θυμός,\nαἶψʼ ἄρα μιν διέχευαν, ἄφαρ δʼ ἐκ μηρία τάμνον\nπάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, κατά τε κνίσῃ ἐκάλυψαν\nδίπτυχα ποιήσαντες, ἐπʼ αὐτῶν δʼ ὠμοθέτησαν.\nκαῖε δʼ ἐπὶ σχίζῃς ὁ γέρων, ἐπὶ δʼ αἴθοπα οἶνον\nλεῖβε· νέοι δὲ παρʼ αὐτὸν ἔχον πεμπώβολα χερσίν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κατὰ μῆρʼ ἐκάη καὶ σπλάγχνα πάσαντο,\nμίστυλλόν τʼ ἄρα τἆλλα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειραν,\nὤπτων δʼ ἀκροπόρους ὀβελοὺς ἐν χερσὶν ἔχοντες.\nτόφρα δὲ Τηλέμαχον λοῦσεν καλὴ Πολυκάστη,\nΝέστορος ὁπλοτάτη θυγάτηρ Νηληϊάδαο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ λοῦσέν τε καὶ ἔχρισεν λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ,\nἀμφὶ δέ μιν φᾶρος καλὸν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,\nἔκ ῥʼ ἀσαμίνθου βῆ δέμας ἀθανάτοισιν ὁμοῖος·\nπὰρ δʼ ὅ γε Νέστορʼ ἰὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο, ποιμένα λαῶν.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ὤπτησαν κρέʼ ὑπέρτερα καὶ ἐρύσαντο,\nδαίνυνθʼ ἑζόμενοι· ἐπὶ δʼ ἀνέρες ἐσθλοὶ ὄροντο\nοἶνον οἰνοχοεῦντες ἐνὶ χρυσέοις δεπάεσσιν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nτοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·\nπαῖδες ἐμοί, ἄγε Τηλεμάχῳ καλλίτριχας ἵππους\nζεύξαθʼ ὑφʼ ἅρματʼ ἄγοντες, ἵνα πρήσσῃσιν ὁδοῖο.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο,\nκαρπαλίμως δʼ ἔζευξαν ὑφʼ ἅρμασιν ὠκέας ἵππους.\nἐν δὲ γυνὴ ταμίη σῖτον καὶ οἶνον ἔθηκεν\nὄψα τε, οἷα ἔδουσι διοτρεφέες βασιλῆες.\nἂν δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος περικαλλέα βήσετο δίφρον·\nπὰρ δʼ ἄρα Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν,\nἐς δίφρον τʼ ἀνέβαινε καὶ ἡνία λάζετο χερσί,\nμάστιξεν δʼ ἐλάαν, τὼ δʼ οὐκ ἀέκοντε πετέσθην\nἐς πεδίον, λιπέτην δὲ Πύλου αἰπὺ πτολίεθρον.\nοἱ δὲ πανημέριοι σεῖον ζυγὸν ἀμφὶς ἔχοντες.\nδύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί,\nἐς Φηρὰς δʼ ἵκοντο Διοκλῆος ποτὶ δῶμα,\nυἱέος Ὀρτιλόχοιο, τὸν Ἀλφειὸς τέκε παῖδα.\nἔνθα δὲ νύκτʼ ἄεσαν, ὁ δὲ τοῖς πὰρ ξείνια θῆκεν.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nἵππους τε ζεύγνυντʼ ἀνά θʼ ἅρματα ποικίλʼ ἔβαινον·\nἐκ δʼ ἔλασαν προθύροιο καὶ αἰθούσης ἐριδούπου·\nμάστιξεν δʼ ἐλάαν, τὼ δʼ οὐκ ἀέκοντε πετέσθην.\nἷξον δʼ ἐς πεδίον πυρηφόρον, ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα\nἦνον ὁδόν· τοῖον γὰρ ὑπέκφερον ὠκέες ἵπποι.\nδύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί.\n\n### Book 4\n\nοἱ δʼ ἷξον κοίλην Λακεδαίμονα κητώεσσαν,\nπρὸς δʼ ἄρα δώματʼ ἔλων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.\nτὸν δʼ εὗρον δαινύντα γάμον πολλοῖσιν ἔτῃσιν\nυἱέος ἠδὲ θυγατρὸς ἀμύμονος ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.\nτὴν μὲν Ἀχιλλῆος ῥηξήνορος υἱέι πέμπεν·\nἐν Τροίῃ γὰρ πρῶτον ὑπέσχετο καὶ κατένευσε\nδωσέμεναι, τοῖσιν δὲ θεοὶ γάμον ἐξετέλειον.\nτὴν ἄρʼ ὅ γʼ ἔνθʼ ἵπποισι καὶ ἅρμασι πέμπε νέεσθαι\nΜυρμιδόνων προτὶ ἄστυ περικλυτόν, οἷσιν ἄνασσεν.\nυἱέι δὲ Σπάρτηθεν Ἀλέκτορος ἤγετο κούρην,\nὅς οἱ τηλύγετος γένετο κρατερὸς Μεγαπένθης\nἐκ δούλης· Ἑλένῃ δὲ θεοὶ γόνον οὐκέτʼ ἔφαινον,\nἐπεὶ δὴ τὸ πρῶτον ἐγείνατο παῖδʼ ἐρατεινήν,\nἙρμιόνην, ἣ εἶδος ἔχε χρυσέης Ἀφροδίτης.\nὣς οἱ μὲν δαίνυντο καθʼ ὑψερεφὲς μέγα δῶμα\nγείτονες ἠδὲ ἔται Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο,\nτερπόμενοι· μετὰ δέ σφιν ἐμέλπετο θεῖος ἀοιδὸς\nφορμίζων, δοιὼ δὲ κυβιστητῆρε κατʼ αὐτούς,\nμολπῆς ἐξάρχοντος, ἐδίνευον κατὰ μέσσους.\nτὼ δʼ αὖτʼ ἐν προθύροισι δόμων αὐτώ τε καὶ ἵππω,\nΤηλέμαχός θʼ ἥρως καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱός,\nστῆσαν· ὁ δὲ προμολὼν ἴδετο κρείων Ἐτεωνεύς,\nὀτρηρὸς θεράπων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο,\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἀγγελέων διὰ δώματα ποιμένι λαῶν,\nἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nξείνω δή τινε τώδε, διοτρεφὲς ὦ Μενέλαε,\nἄνδρε δύω, γενεῇ δὲ Διὸς μεγάλοιο ἔικτον.\nἀλλʼ εἴπʼ, ἤ σφωιν καταλύσομεν ὠκέας ἵππους,\nἦ ἄλλον πέμπωμεν ἱκανέμεν, ὅς κε φιλήσῃ.\nτὸν δὲ μέγʼ ὀχθήσας προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·\nοὐ μὲν νήπιος ἦσθα, Βοηθοΐδη Ἐτεωνεῦ,\nτὸ πρίν· ἀτὰρ μὲν νῦν γε πάϊς ὣς νήπια βάζεις.\nἦ μὲν δὴ νῶι ξεινήια πολλὰ φαγόντε\nἄλλων ἀνθρώπων δεῦρʼ ἱκόμεθʼ, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς\nἐξοπίσω περ παύσῃ ὀιζύος. ἀλλὰ λύʼ ἵππους\nξείνων, ἐς δʼ αὐτοὺς προτέρω ἄγε θοινηθῆναι.\nὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δὲ μεγάροιο διέσσυτο, κέκλετο δʼ ἄλλους\nὀτρηροὺς θεράποντας ἅμα σπέσθαι ἑοῖ αὐτῷ.\nοἱ δʼ ἵππους μὲν λῦσαν ὑπὸ ζυγοῦ ἱδρώοντας,\nκαὶ τοὺς μὲν κατέδησαν ἐφʼ ἱππείῃσι κάπῃσι,\nπὰρ δʼ ἔβαλον ζειάς, ἀνὰ δὲ κρῖ λευκὸν ἔμιξαν,\nἅρματα δʼ ἔκλιναν πρὸς ἐνώπια παμφανόωντα,\nαὐτοὺς δʼ εἰσῆγον θεῖον δόμον. οἱ δὲ ἰδόντες\nθαύμαζον κατὰ δῶμα διοτρεφέος βασιλῆος·\nὥς τε γὰρ ἠελίου αἴγλη πέλεν ἠὲ σελήνης\nδῶμα καθʼ ὑψερεφὲς Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τάρπησαν ὁρώμενοι ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,\nἔς ῥʼ ἀσαμίνθους βάντες ἐυξέστας λούσαντο.\nτοὺς δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δμῳαὶ λοῦσαν καὶ χρῖσαν ἐλαίῳ,\nἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα χλαίνας οὔλας βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,\nἔς ῥα θρόνους ἕζοντο παρʼ Ἀτρεΐδην Μενέλαον.\nχέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα\nκαλῇ χρυσείῃ ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,\nνίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.\nσῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,\nεἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων.\nδαιτρὸς δὲ κρειῶν πίνακας παρέθηκεν ἀείρας\nπαντοίων, παρὰ δέ σφι τίθει χρύσεια κύπελλα.\nτὼ καὶ δεικνύμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·\nσίτου θʼ ἅπτεσθον καὶ χαίρετον. αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nδείπνου πασσαμένω εἰρησόμεθʼ, οἵ τινές ἐστον\nἀνδρῶν· οὐ γὰρ σφῷν γε γένος ἀπόλωλε τοκήων,\nἀλλʼ ἀνδρῶν γένος ἐστὲ διοτρεφέων βασιλήων\nσκηπτούχων, ἐπεὶ οὔ κε κακοὶ τοιούσδε τέκοιεν.\nὣς φάτο, καί σφιν νῶτα βοὸς παρὰ πίονα θῆκεν\nὄπτʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἑλών, τά ῥά οἱ γέρα πάρθεσαν αὐτῷ.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nδὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεε Νέστορος υἱόν,\nἄγχι σχὼν κεφαλήν, ἵνα μὴ πευθοίαθʼ οἱ ἄλλοι·\nφράζεο, Νεστορίδη, τῷ ἐμῷ κεχαρισμένε θυμῷ,\nχαλκοῦ τε στεροπὴν κὰδ δώματα ἠχήεντα\nχρυσοῦ τʼ ἠλέκτρου τε καὶ ἀργύρου ἠδʼ ἐλέφαντος.\nΖηνός που τοιήδε γʼ Ὀλυμπίου ἔνδοθεν αὐλή,\nὅσσα τάδʼ ἄσπετα πολλά· σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.\nτοῦ δʼ ἀγορεύοντος ξύνετο ξανθὸς Μενέλαος,\nκαί σφεας φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nτέκνα φίλʼ, ἦ τοι Ζηνὶ βροτῶν οὐκ ἄν τις ἐρίζοι·\nἀθάνατοι γὰρ τοῦ γε δόμοι καὶ κτήματʼ ἔασιν·\nἀνδρῶν δʼ ἤ κέν τίς μοι ἐρίσσεται, ἠὲ καὶ οὐκί,\nκτήμασιν. ἦ γὰρ πολλὰ παθὼν καὶ πόλλʼ ἐπαληθεὶς\nἠγαγόμην ἐν νηυσὶ καὶ ὀγδοάτῳ ἔτει ἦλθον,\nΚύπρον Φοινίκην τε καὶ Αἰγυπτίους ἐπαληθείς,\nΑἰθίοπάς θʼ ἱκόμην καὶ Σιδονίους καὶ Ἐρεμβοὺς\nκαὶ Λιβύην, ἵνα τʼ ἄρνες ἄφαρ κεραοὶ τελέθουσι.\nτρὶς γὰρ τίκτει μῆλα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτόν.\nἔνθα μὲν οὔτε ἄναξ ἐπιδευὴς οὔτε τι ποιμὴν\nτυροῦ καὶ κρειῶν οὐδὲ γλυκεροῖο γάλακτος,\nἀλλʼ αἰεὶ παρέχουσιν ἐπηετανὸν γάλα θῆσθαι.\nἧος ἐγὼ περὶ κεῖνα πολὺν βίοτον συναγείρων\nἠλώμην, τῆός μοι ἀδελφεὸν ἄλλος ἔπεφνεν\nλάθρῃ, ἀνωιστί, δόλῳ οὐλομένης ἀλόχοιο·\nὣς οὔ τοι χαίρων τοῖσδε κτεάτεσσιν ἀνάσσω.\nκαὶ πατέρων τάδε μέλλετʼ ἀκουέμεν, οἵ τινες ὑμῖν\nεἰσίν, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὰ πάθον, καὶ ἀπώλεσα οἶκον\nεὖ μάλα ναιετάοντα, κεχανδότα πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλά.\nὧν ὄφελον τριτάτην περ ἔχων ἐν δώμασι μοῖραν\nναίειν, οἱ δʼ ἄνδρες σόοι ἔμμεναι, οἳ τότʼ ὄλοντο\nΤροίῃ ἐν εὐρείῃ ἑκὰς Ἄργεος ἱπποβότοιο.\nἀλλʼ ἔμπης πάντας μὲν ὀδυρόμενος καὶ ἀχεύων\nπολλάκις ἐν μεγάροισι καθήμενος ἡμετέροισιν\nἄλλοτε μέν τε γόῳ φρένα τέρπομαι, ἄλλοτε δʼ αὖτε\nπαύομαι· αἰψηρὸς δὲ κόρος κρυεροῖο γόοιο.\nτῶν πάντων οὐ τόσσον ὀδύρομαι, ἀχνύμενός περ,\nὡς ἑνός, ὅς τέ μοι ὕπνον ἀπεχθαίρει καὶ ἐδωδὴν\nμνωομένῳ, ἐπεὶ οὔ τις Ἀχαιῶν τόσσʼ ἐμόγησεν,\nὅσσʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἐμόγησε καὶ ἤρατο. τῷ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔμελλεν\nαὐτῷ κήδεʼ ἔσεσθαι, ἐμοὶ δʼ ἄχος αἰὲν ἄλαστον\nκείνου, ὅπως δὴ δηρὸν ἀποίχεται, οὐδέ τι ἴδμεν,\nζώει ὅ γʼ ἦ τέθνηκεν. ὀδύρονταί νύ που αὐτὸν\nΛαέρτης θʼ ὁ γέρων καὶ ἐχέφρων Πηνελόπεια\nΤηλέμαχός θʼ, ὃν ἔλειπε νέον γεγαῶτʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.\nὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἄρα πατρὸς ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο.\nδάκρυ δʼ ἀπὸ βλεφάρων χαμάδις βάλε πατρὸς ἀκούσας,\nχλαῖναν πορφυρέην ἄντʼ ὀφθαλμοῖιν ἀνασχὼν\nἀμφοτέρῃσιν χερσί. νόησε δέ μιν Μενέλαος,\nμερμήριξε δʼ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,\nἠέ μιν αὐτὸν πατρὸς ἐάσειε μνησθῆναι\nἦ πρῶτʼ ἐξερέοιτο ἕκαστά τε πειρήσαιτο.\nἧος ὁ ταῦθʼ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,\nἐκ δʼ Ἑλένη θαλάμοιο θυώδεος ὑψορόφοιο\nἤλυθεν Ἀρτέμιδι χρυσηλακάτῳ ἐικυῖα.\nτῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἅμʼ Ἀδρήστη κλισίην εὔτυκτον ἔθηκεν,\nἈλκίππη δὲ τάπητα φέρεν μαλακοῦ ἐρίοιο,\nΦυλὼ δʼ ἀργύρεον τάλαρον φέρε, τόν οἱ ἔθηκεν\nἈλκάνδρη, Πολύβοιο δάμαρ, ὃς ἔναιʼ ἐνὶ Θήβῃς\nΑἰγυπτίῃς, ὅθι πλεῖστα δόμοις ἐν κτήματα κεῖται·\nὃς Μενελάῳ δῶκε δύʼ ἀργυρέας ἀσαμίνθους,\nδοιοὺς δὲ τρίποδας, δέκα δὲ χρυσοῖο τάλαντα.\nχωρὶς δʼ αὖθʼ Ἑλένῃ ἄλοχος πόρε κάλλιμα δῶρα·\nχρυσέην τʼ ἠλακάτην τάλαρόν θʼ ὑπόκυκλον ὄπασσεν\nἀργύρεον, χρυσῷ δʼ ἐπὶ χείλεα κεκράαντο.\nτόν ῥά οἱ ἀμφίπολος Φυλὼ παρέθηκε φέρουσα\nνήματος ἀσκητοῖο βεβυσμένον· αὐτὰρ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ\nἠλακάτη τετάνυστο ἰοδνεφὲς εἶρος ἔχουσα.\nἕζετο δʼ ἐν κλισμῷ, ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν.\nαὐτίκα δʼ ἥ γʼ ἐπέεσσι πόσιν ἐρέεινεν ἕκαστα·\nἴδμεν δή, Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, οἵ τινες οἵδε\nἀνδρῶν εὐχετόωνται ἱκανέμεν ἡμέτερον δῶ;\nψεύσομαι ἦ ἔτυμον ἐρέω; κέλεται δέ με θυμός.\nοὐ γάρ πώ τινά φημι ἐοικότα ὧδε ἰδέσθαι\nοὔτʼ ἄνδρʼ οὔτε γυναῖκα, σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωσαν,\nὡς ὅδʼ Ὀδυσσῆος μεγαλήτορος υἷι ἔοικε,\nΤηλεμάχῳ, τὸν ἔλειπε νέον γεγαῶτʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nκεῖνος ἀνήρ, ὅτʼ ἐμεῖο κυνώπιδος εἵνεκʼ Ἀχαιοὶ\nἤλθεθʼ ὑπὸ Τροίην πόλεμον θρασὺν ὁρμαίνοντες.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·\nοὕτω νῦν καὶ ἐγὼ νοέω, γύναι, ὡς σὺ ἐίσκεις·\nκείνου γὰρ τοιοίδε πόδες τοιαίδε τε χεῖρες\nὀφθαλμῶν τε βολαὶ κεφαλή τʼ ἐφύπερθέ τε χαῖται.\nκαὶ νῦν ἦ τοι ἐγὼ μεμνημένος ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆι\nμυθεόμην, ὅσα κεῖνος ὀιζύσας ἐμόγησεν\nἀμφʼ ἐμοί, αὐτὰρ ὁ πικρὸν ὑπʼ ὀφρύσι δάκρυον εἶβε,\nχλαῖναν πορφυρέην ἄντʼ ὀφθαλμοῖιν ἀνασχών.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἈτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,\nκείνου μέν τοι ὅδʼ υἱὸς ἐτήτυμον, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·\nἀλλὰ σαόφρων ἐστί, νεμεσσᾶται δʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nὧδʼ ἐλθὼν τὸ πρῶτον ἐπεσβολίας ἀναφαίνειν\nἄντα σέθεν, τοῦ νῶι θεοῦ ὣς τερπόμεθʼ αὐδῇ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐμὲ προέηκε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ\nτῷ ἅμα πομπὸν ἕπεσθαι· ἐέλδετο γάρ σε ἰδέσθαι,\nὄφρα οἱ ἤ τι ἔπος ὑποθήσεαι ἠέ τι ἔργον.\nπολλὰ γὰρ ἄλγεʼ ἔχει πατρὸς πάϊς οἰχομένοιο\nἐν μεγάροις, ᾧ μὴ ἄλλοι ἀοσσητῆρες ἔωσιν,\nὡς νῦν Τηλεμάχῳ ὁ μὲν οἴχεται, οὐδέ οἱ ἄλλοι\nεἴσʼ οἵ κεν κατὰ δῆμον ἀλάλκοιεν κακότητα.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ φίλου ἀνέρος υἱὸς ἐμὸν δῶ\nἵκεθʼ, ὃς εἵνεκʼ ἐμεῖο πολέας ἐμόγησεν ἀέθλους·\nκαί μιν ἔφην ἐλθόντα φιλησέμεν ἔξοχον ἄλλων\nἈργείων, εἰ νῶιν ὑπεὶρ ἅλα νόστον ἔδωκε\nνηυσὶ θοῇσι γενέσθαι Ὀλύμπιος εὐρύοπα Ζεύς.\nκαί κέ οἱ Ἄργεϊ νάσσα πόλιν καὶ δώματʼ ἔτευξα,\nἐξ Ἰθάκης ἀγαγὼν σὺν κτήμασι καὶ τέκεϊ ᾧ\nκαὶ πᾶσιν λαοῖσι, μίαν πόλιν ἐξαλαπάξας,\nαἳ περιναιετάουσιν, ἀνάσσονται δʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ.\nκαί κε θάμʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἐόντες ἐμισγόμεθʼ· οὐδέ κεν ἡμέας\nἄλλο διέκρινεν φιλέοντέ τε τερπομένω τε,\nπρίν γʼ ὅτε δὴ θανάτοιο μέλαν νέφος ἀμφεκάλυψεν.\nἀλλὰ τὰ μέν που μέλλεν ἀγάσσεσθαι θεὸς αὐτός,\nὃς κεῖνον δύστηνον ἀνόστιμον οἶον ἔθηκεν.\nὣς φάτο, τοῖσι δὲ πᾶσιν ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο.\nκλαῖε μὲν Ἀργείη Ἑλένη, Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα,\nκλαῖε δὲ Τηλέμαχός τε καὶ Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος,\nοὐδʼ ἄρα Νέστορος υἱὸς ἀδακρύτω ἔχεν ὄσσε·\nμνήσατο γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονος Ἀντιλόχοιο,\nτόν ῥʼ Ἠοῦς ἔκτεινε φαεινῆς ἀγλαὸς υἱός·\nτοῦ ὅ γʼ ἐπιμνησθεὶς ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευεν·\nἈτρεΐδη, περὶ μέν σε βροτῶν πεπνυμένον εἶναι\nΝέστωρ φάσχʼ ὁ γέρων, ὅτʼ ἐπιμνησαίμεθα σεῖο\nοἷσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι, καὶ ἀλλήλους ἐρέοιμεν.\nκαὶ νῦν, εἴ τί που ἔστι, πίθοιό μοι· οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γε\nτέρπομʼ ὀδυρόμενος μεταδόρπιος, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἠὼς\nἔσσεται ἠριγένεια· νεμεσσῶμαί γε μὲν οὐδὲν\nκλαίειν ὅς κε θάνῃσι βροτῶν καὶ πότμον ἐπίσπῃ.\nτοῦτό νυ καὶ γέρας οἶον ὀιζυροῖσι βροτοῖσιν,\nκείρασθαί τε κόμην βαλέειν τʼ ἀπὸ δάκρυ παρειῶν.\nκαὶ γὰρ ἐμὸς τέθνηκεν ἀδελφεός, οὔ τι κάκιστος\nἈργείων· μέλλεις δὲ σὺ ἴδμεναι· οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γε\nἤντησʼ οὐδὲ ἴδον· περὶ δʼ ἄλλων φασὶ γενέσθαι\nἈντίλοχον, πέρι μὲν θείειν ταχὺν ἠδὲ μαχητήν.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·\nὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεὶ τόσα εἶπες, ὅσʼ ἂν πεπνυμένος ἀνὴρ\nεἴποι καὶ ῥέξειε, καὶ ὃς προγενέστερος εἴη·\nτοίου γὰρ καὶ πατρός, ὃ καὶ πεπνυμένα βάζεις,\nῥεῖα δʼ ἀρίγνωτος γόνος ἀνέρος ᾧ τε Κρονίων\nὄλβον ἐπικλώσῃ γαμέοντί τε γεινομένῳ τε,\nὡς νῦν Νέστορι δῶκε διαμπερὲς ἤματα πάντα\nαὐτὸν μὲν λιπαρῶς γηρασκέμεν ἐν μεγάροισιν,\nυἱέας αὖ πινυτούς τε καὶ ἔγχεσιν εἶναι ἀρίστους.\nἡμεῖς δὲ κλαυθμὸν μὲν ἐάσομεν, ὃς πρὶν ἐτύχθη,\nδόρπου δʼ ἐξαῦτις μνησώμεθα, χερσὶ δʼ ἐφʼ ὕδωρ\nχευάντων. μῦθοι δὲ καὶ ἠῶθέν περ ἔσονται\nΤηλεμάχῳ καὶ ἐμοὶ διαειπέμεν ἀλλήλοισιν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀσφαλίων δʼ ἄρʼ ὕδωρ ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἔχευεν,\nὀτρηρὸς θεράπων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.\nἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησʼ Ἑλένη Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα·\nαὐτίκʼ ἄρʼ εἰς οἶνον βάλε φάρμακον, ἔνθεν ἔπινον,\nνηπενθές τʼ ἄχολόν τε, κακῶν ἐπίληθον ἁπάντων.\nὃς τὸ καταβρόξειεν, ἐπὴν κρητῆρι μιγείη,\nοὔ κεν ἐφημέριός γε βάλοι κατὰ δάκρυ παρειῶν,\nοὐδʼ εἴ οἱ κατατεθναίη μήτηρ τε πατήρ τε,\nοὐδʼ εἴ οἱ προπάροιθεν ἀδελφεὸν ἢ φίλον υἱὸν\nχαλκῷ δηιόῳεν, ὁ δʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῷτο.\nτοῖα Διὸς θυγάτηρ ἔχε φάρμακα μητιόεντα,\nἐσθλά, τά οἱ Πολύδαμνα πόρεν, Θῶνος παράκοιτις\nΑἰγυπτίη, τῇ πλεῖστα φέρει ζείδωρος ἄρουρα\nφάρμακα, πολλὰ μὲν ἐσθλὰ μεμιγμένα πολλὰ δὲ λυγρά·\nἰητρὸς δὲ ἕκαστος ἐπιστάμενος περὶ πάντων\nἀνθρώπων· ἦ γὰρ Παιήονός εἰσι γενέθλης.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐνέηκε κέλευσέ τε οἰνοχοῆσαι,\nἐξαῦτις μύθοισιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπεν·\nἈτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφὲς ἠδὲ καὶ οἵδε\nἀνδρῶν ἐσθλῶν παῖδες· ἀτὰρ θεὸς ἄλλοτε ἄλλῳ\nΖεὺς ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε διδοῖ· δύναται γὰρ ἅπαντα·\nἦ τοι νῦν δαίνυσθε καθήμενοι ἐν μεγάροισι\nκαὶ μύθοις τέρπεσθε· ἐοικότα γὰρ καταλέξω.\nπάντα μὲν οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ὀνομήνω,\nὅσσοι Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονός εἰσιν ἄεθλοι·\nἀλλʼ οἷον τόδʼ ἔρεξε καὶ ἔτλη καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ\nδήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχετε πήματʼ Ἀχαιοί.\nαὐτόν μιν πληγῇσιν ἀεικελίῃσι δαμάσσας,\nσπεῖρα κάκʼ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισι βαλών, οἰκῆι ἐοικώς,\nἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων κατέδυ πόλιν εὐρυάγυιαν·\nἄλλῳ δʼ αὐτὸν φωτὶ κατακρύπτων ἤισκε,\nδέκτῃ, ὃς οὐδὲν τοῖος ἔην ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν.\nτῷ ἴκελος κατέδυ Τρώων πόλιν, οἱ δʼ ἀβάκησαν\nπάντες· ἐγὼ δέ μιν οἴη ἀνέγνων τοῖον ἐόντα,\nκαί μιν ἀνηρώτων· ὁ δὲ κερδοσύνῃ ἀλέεινεν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή μιν ἐγὼ λόεον καὶ χρῖον ἐλαίῳ,\nἀμφὶ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσα καὶ ὤμοσα καρτερὸν ὅρκον\nμὴ μὲν πρὶν Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ Τρώεσσʼ ἀναφῆναι,\nπρίν γε τὸν ἐς νῆάς τε θοὰς κλισίας τʼ ἀφικέσθαι,\nκαὶ τότε δή μοι πάντα νόον κατέλεξεν Ἀχαιῶν.\nπολλοὺς δὲ Τρώων κτείνας ταναήκεϊ χαλκῷ\nἦλθε μετʼ Ἀργείους, κατὰ δὲ φρόνιν ἤγαγε πολλήν.\nἔνθʼ ἄλλαι Τρῳαὶ λίγʼ ἐκώκυον· αὐτὰρ ἐμὸν κῆρ\nχαῖρʼ, ἐπεὶ ἤδη μοι κραδίη τέτραπτο νέεσθαι\nἂψ οἶκόνδʼ, ἄτην δὲ μετέστενον, ἣν Ἀφροδίτη\nδῶχʼ, ὅτε μʼ ἤγαγε κεῖσε φίλης ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης,\nπαῖδά τʼ ἐμὴν νοσφισσαμένην θάλαμόν τε πόσιν τε\nοὔ τευ δευόμενον, οὔτʼ ἂρ φρένας οὔτε τι εἶδος.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·\nναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε πάντα, γύναι, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.\nἤδη μὲν πολέων ἐδάην βουλήν τε νόον τε\nἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, πολλὴν δʼ ἐπελήλυθα γαῖαν·\nἀλλʼ οὔ πω τοιοῦτον ἐγὼν ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,\nοἷον Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος ἔσκε φίλον κῆρ.\nοἷον καὶ τόδʼ ἔρεξε καὶ ἔτλη καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ\nἵππῳ ἔνι ξεστῷ, ἵνʼ ἐνήμεθα πάντες ἄριστοι\nἈργείων Τρώεσσι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φέροντες.\nἦλθες ἔπειτα σὺ κεῖσε· κελευσέμεναι δέ σʼ ἔμελλε\nδαίμων, ὃς Τρώεσσιν ἐβούλετο κῦδος ὀρέξαι·\nκαί τοι Δηΐφοβος θεοείκελος ἕσπετʼ ἰούσῃ.\nτρὶς δὲ περίστειξας κοῖλον λόχον ἀμφαφόωσα,\nἐκ δʼ ὀνομακλήδην Δαναῶν ὀνόμαζες ἀρίστους,\nπάντων Ἀργείων φωνὴν ἴσκουσʼ ἀλόχοισιν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καὶ Τυδεΐδης καὶ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἥμενοι ἐν μέσσοισιν ἀκούσαμεν ὡς ἐβόησας.\nνῶι μὲν ἀμφοτέρω μενεήναμεν ὁρμηθέντε\nἢ ἐξελθέμεναι, ἢ ἔνδοθεν αἶψʼ ὑπακοῦσαι·\nἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατέρυκε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱεμένω περ.\nἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀκὴν ἔσαν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,\nἌντικλος δὲ σέ γʼ οἶος ἀμείψασθαι ἐπέεσσιν\nἤθελεν. ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἐπὶ μάστακα χερσὶ πίεζεν\nνωλεμέως κρατερῇσι, σάωσε δὲ πάντας Ἀχαιούς·\nτόφρα δʼ ἔχʼ, ὄφρα σε νόσφιν ἀπήγαγε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἈτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,\nἄλγιον· οὐ γάρ οἵ τι τάδʼ ἤρκεσε λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον,\nοὐδʼ εἴ οἱ κραδίη γε σιδηρέη ἔνδοθεν ἦεν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ εἰς εὐνὴν τράπεθʼ ἡμέας, ὄφρα καὶ ἤδη\nὕπνῳ ὕπο γλυκερῷ ταρπώμεθα κοιμηθέντες.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀργείη δʼ Ἑλένη δμῳῇσι κέλευσεν\nδέμνιʼ ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ θέμεναι καὶ ῥήγεα καλὰ\nπορφύρεʼ ἐμβαλέειν στορέσαι τʼ ἐφύπερθε τάπητας,\nχλαίνας τʼ ἐνθέμεναι οὔλας καθύπερθεν ἕσασθαι.\nαἱ δʼ ἴσαν ἐκ μεγάροιο δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσαι,\nδέμνια δὲ στόρεσαν· ἐκ δὲ ξείνους ἄγε κῆρυξ.\nοἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐν προδόμῳ δόμου αὐτόθι κοιμήσαντο,\nΤηλέμαχός θʼ ἥρως καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱός·\nἈτρεΐδης δὲ καθεῦδε μυχῷ δόμου ὑψηλοῖο,\nπὰρ δʼ Ἑλένη τανύπεπλος ἐλέξατο, δῖα γυναικῶν.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nὤρνυτʼ ἄρʼ ἐξ εὐνῆφι βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος\nεἵματα ἑσσάμενος, περὶ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτʼ ὤμῳ,\nποσσὶ δʼ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο θεῷ ἐναλίγκιος ἄντην,\nΤηλεμάχῳ δὲ παρῖζεν, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nτίπτε δέ σε χρειὼ δεῦρʼ ἤγαγε, Τηλέμαχʼ ἥρως,\nἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν, ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης;\nδήμιον ἦ ἴδιον; τόδε μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἈτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,\nἤλυθον, εἴ τινά μοι κληηδόνα πατρὸς ἐνίσποις.\nἐσθίεταί μοι οἶκος, ὄλωλε δὲ πίονα ἔργα,\nδυσμενέων δʼ ἀνδρῶν πλεῖος δόμος, οἵ τέ μοι αἰεὶ\nμῆλʼ ἁδινὰ σφάζουσι καὶ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς,\nμητρὸς ἐμῆς μνηστῆρες ὑπέρβιον ὕβριν ἔχοντες.\nτοὔνεκα νῦν τὰ σὰ γούναθʼ ἱκάνομαι, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα\nκείνου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον ἐνισπεῖν, εἴ που ὄπωπας\nὀφθαλμοῖσι τεοῖσιν ἢ ἄλλου μῦθον ἄκουσας\nπλαζομένου· περὶ γάρ μιν ὀιζυρὸν τέκε μήτηρ.\nμηδέ τί μʼ αἰδόμενος μειλίσσεο μηδʼ ἐλεαίρων,\nἀλλʼ εὖ μοι κατάλεξον ὅπως ἤντησας ὀπωπῆς.\nλίσσομαι, εἴ ποτέ τοί τι πατὴρ ἐμός, ἐσθλὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἢ ἔπος ἠέ τι ἔργον ὑποστὰς ἐξετέλεσσε\nδήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχετε πήματʼ Ἀχαιοί,\nτῶν νῦν μοι μνῆσαι, καί μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες.\nτὸν δὲ μέγʼ ὀχθήσας προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ κρατερόφρονος ἀνδρὸς ἐν εὐνῇ\nἤθελον εὐνηθῆναι ἀνάλκιδες αὐτοὶ ἐόντες.\nὡς δʼ ὁπότʼ ἐν ξυλόχῳ ἔλαφος κρατεροῖο λέοντος\nνεβροὺς κοιμήσασα νεηγενέας γαλαθηνοὺς\nκνημοὺς ἐξερέῃσι καὶ ἄγκεα ποιήεντα\nβοσκομένη, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα ἑὴν εἰσήλυθεν εὐνήν,\nἀμφοτέροισι δὲ τοῖσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφῆκεν,\nὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κείνοισιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφήσει.\nαἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,\nτοῖος ἐών, οἷός ποτʼ ἐυκτιμένῃ ἐνὶ Λέσβῳ\nἐξ ἔριδος Φιλομηλεΐδῃ ἐπάλαισεν ἀναστάς,\nκὰδ δʼ ἔβαλε κρατερῶς, κεχάροντο δὲ πάντες Ἀχαιοί,\nτοῖος ἐὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμιλήσειεν Ὀδυσσεύς·\nπάντες κʼ ὠκύμοροί τε γενοίατο πικρόγαμοί τε.\nταῦτα δʼ ἅ μʼ εἰρωτᾷς καὶ λίσσεαι, οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε\nἄλλα παρὲξ εἴποιμι παρακλιδόν, οὐδʼ ἀπατήσω,\nἀλλὰ τὰ μέν μοι ἔειπε γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής,\nτῶν οὐδέν τοι ἐγὼ κρύψω ἔπος οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω.\nΑἰγύπτῳ μʼ ἔτι δεῦρο θεοὶ μεμαῶτα νέεσθαι\nἔσχον, ἐπεὶ οὔ σφιν ἔρεξα τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας.\nοἱ δʼ αἰεὶ βούλοντο θεοὶ μεμνῆσθαι ἐφετμέων.\nνῆσος ἔπειτά τις ἔστι πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ\nΑἰγύπτου προπάροιθε, Φάρον δέ ἑ κικλήσκουσι,\nτόσσον ἄνευθʼ ὅσσον τε πανημερίη γλαφυρὴ νηῦς\nἤνυσεν, ᾗ λιγὺς οὖρος ἐπιπνείῃσιν ὄπισθεν·\nἐν δὲ λιμὴν ἐύορμος, ὅθεν τʼ ἀπὸ νῆας ἐίσας\nἐς πόντον βάλλουσιν, ἀφυσσάμενοι μέλαν ὕδωρ.\nἔνθα μʼ ἐείκοσιν ἤματʼ ἔχον θεοί, οὐδέ ποτʼ οὖροι\nπνείοντες φαίνονθʼ ἁλιαέες, οἵ ῥά τε νηῶν\nπομπῆες γίγνονται ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.\nκαί νύ κεν ἤια πάντα κατέφθιτο καὶ μένεʼ ἀνδρῶν,\nεἰ μή τίς με θεῶν ὀλοφύρατο καί μʼ ἐσάωσε,\nΠρωτέος ἰφθίμου θυγάτηρ ἁλίοιο γέροντος,\nΕἰδοθέη· τῇ γάρ ῥα μάλιστά γε θυμὸν ὄρινα.\nἥ μʼ οἴῳ ἔρροντι συνήντετο νόσφιν ἑταίρων·\nαἰεὶ γὰρ περὶ νῆσον ἀλώμενοι ἰχθυάασκον\nγναμπτοῖς ἀγκίστροισιν, ἔτειρε δὲ γαστέρα λιμός.\nἡ δέ μευ ἄγχι στᾶσα ἔπος φάτο φώνησέν τε·\nνήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖνε, λίην τόσον ἠδὲ χαλίφρων,\nἦε ἑκὼν μεθίεις καὶ τέρπεαι ἄλγεα πάσχων;\nὡς δὴ δήθʼ ἐνὶ νήσῳ ἐρύκεαι, οὐδέ τι τέκμωρ\nεὑρέμεναι δύνασαι, μινύθει δέ τοι ἦτορ ἑταίρων.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nἐκ μέν τοι ἐρέω, ἥ τις σύ πέρ ἐσσι θεάων,\nὡς ἐγὼ οὔ τι ἑκὼν κατερύκομαι, ἀλλά νυ μέλλω\nἀθανάτους ἀλιτέσθαι, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.\nἀλλὰ σύ πέρ μοι εἰπέ, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα ἴσασιν,\nὅς τίς μʼ ἀθανάτων πεδάᾳ καὶ ἔδησε κελεύθου,\nνόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσομαι ἰχθυόεντα.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.\nπωλεῖταί τις δεῦρο γέρων ἅλιος νημερτὴς\nἀθάνατος Πρωτεὺς Αἰγύπτιος, ὅς τε θαλάσσης\nπάσης βένθεα οἶδε, Ποσειδάωνος ὑποδμώς·\nτὸν δέ τʼ ἐμόν φασιν πατέρʼ ἔμμεναι ἠδὲ τεκέσθαι.\nτόν γʼ εἴ πως σὺ δύναιο λοχησάμενος λελαβέσθαι,\nὅς κέν τοι εἴπῃσιν ὁδὸν καὶ μέτρα κελεύθου\nνόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσεαι ἰχθυόεντα.\nκαὶ δέ κέ τοι εἴπῃσι, διοτρεφές, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα,\nὅττι τοι ἐν μεγάροισι κακόν τʼ ἀγαθόν τε τέτυκται\nοἰχομένοιο σέθεν δολιχὴν ὁδὸν ἀργαλέην τε.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nαὐτὴ νῦν φράζευ σὺ λόχον θείοιο γέροντος,\nμή πώς με προϊδὼν ἠὲ προδαεὶς ἀλέηται·\nἀργαλέος γάρ τʼ ἐστὶ θεὸς βροτῷ ἀνδρὶ δαμῆναι.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.\nἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος μέσον οὐρανὸν ἀμφιβεβήκῃ,\nτῆμος ἄρʼ ἐξ ἁλὸς εἶσι γέρων ἅλιος νημερτὴς\nπνοιῇ ὕπο Ζεφύροιο μελαίνῃ φρικὶ καλυφθείς,\nἐκ δʼ ἐλθὼν κοιμᾶται ὑπὸ σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσιν·\nἀμφὶ δέ μιν φῶκαι νέποδες καλῆς ἁλοσύδνης\nἁθρόαι εὕδουσιν, πολιῆς ἁλὸς ἐξαναδῦσαι,\nπικρὸν ἀποπνείουσαι ἁλὸς πολυβενθέος ὀδμήν.\nἔνθα σʼ ἐγὼν ἀγαγοῦσα ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν\nεὐνάσω ἑξείης· σὺ δʼ ἐὺ κρίνασθαι ἑταίρους\nτρεῖς, οἵ τοι παρὰ νηυσὶν ἐυσσέλμοισιν ἄριστοι.\nπάντα δέ τοι ἐρέω ὀλοφώια τοῖο γέροντος.\nφώκας μέν τοι πρῶτον ἀριθμήσει καὶ ἔπεισιν·\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν πάσας πεμπάσσεται ἠδὲ ἴδηται,\nλέξεται ἐν μέσσῃσι νομεὺς ὣς πώεσι μήλων.\nτὸν μὲν ἐπὴν δὴ πρῶτα κατευνηθέντα ἴδησθε,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἔπειθʼ ὑμῖν μελέτω κάρτος τε βίη τε,\nαὖθι δʼ ἔχειν μεμαῶτα καὶ ἐσσύμενόν περ ἀλύξαι.\nπάντα δὲ γιγνόμενος πειρήσεται, ὅσσʼ ἐπὶ γαῖαν\nἑρπετὰ γίγνονται, καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ θεσπιδαὲς πῦρ·\nὑμεῖς δʼ ἀστεμφέως ἐχέμεν μᾶλλόν τε πιέζειν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε κεν δή σʼ αὐτὸς ἀνείρηται ἐπέεσσι,\nτοῖος ἐὼν οἷόν κε κατευνηθέντα ἴδησθε,\nκαὶ τότε δὴ σχέσθαι τε βίης λῦσαί τε γέροντα,\nἥρως, εἴρεσθαι δέ, θεῶν ὅς τίς σε χαλέπτει,\nνόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσεαι ἰχθυόεντα.\nὣς εἰποῦσʼ ὑπὸ πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆας, ὅθʼ ἕστασαν ἐν ψαμάθοισιν,\nἤια· πολλὰ δέ μοι κραδίη πόρφυρε κιόντι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,\nδόρπον θʼ ὁπλισάμεσθʼ, ἐπί τʼ ἤλυθεν ἀμβροσίη νύξ·\nδὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nκαὶ τότε δὴ παρὰ θῖνα θαλάσσης εὐρυπόροιο\nἤια πολλὰ θεοὺς γουνούμενος· αὐτὰρ ἑταίρους\nτρεῖς ἄγον, οἷσι μάλιστα πεποίθεα πᾶσαν ἐπʼ ἰθύν.\nτόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ ἥ γʼ ὑποδῦσα θαλάσσης εὐρέα κόλπον\nτέσσαρα φωκάων ἐκ πόντου δέρματʼ ἔνεικε·\nπάντα δʼ ἔσαν νεόδαρτα· δόλον δʼ ἐπεμήδετο πατρί.\nεὐνὰς δʼ ἐν ψαμάθοισι διαγλάψασʼ ἁλίῃσιν\nἧστο μένουσʼ· ἡμεῖς δὲ μάλα σχεδὸν ἤλθομεν αὐτῆς·\nἑξείης δʼ εὔνησε, βάλεν δʼ ἐπὶ δέρμα ἑκάστῳ.\nἔνθα κεν αἰνότατος λόχος ἔπλετο· τεῖρε γὰρ αἰνῶς\nφωκάων ἁλιοτρεφέων ὀλοώτατος ὀδμή·\nτίς γάρ κʼ εἰναλίῳ παρὰ κήτεϊ κοιμηθείη;\nἀλλʼ αὐτὴ ἐσάωσε καὶ ἐφράσατο μέγʼ ὄνειαρ·\nἀμβροσίην ὑπὸ ῥῖνα ἑκάστῳ θῆκε φέρουσα\nἡδὺ μάλα πνείουσαν, ὄλεσσε δὲ κήτεος ὀδμήν.\nπᾶσαν δʼ ἠοίην μένομεν τετληότι θυμῷ·\nφῶκαι δʼ ἐξ ἁλὸς ἦλθον ἀολλέες. αἱ μὲν ἔπειτα\nἑξῆς εὐνάζοντο παρὰ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης·\nἔνδιος δʼ ὁ γέρων ἦλθʼ ἐξ ἁλός, εὗρε δὲ φώκας\nζατρεφέας, πάσας δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπῴχετο, λέκτο δʼ ἀριθμόν·\nἐν δʼ ἡμέας πρώτους λέγε κήτεσιν, οὐδέ τι θυμῷ\nὠΐσθη δόλον εἶναι· ἔπειτα δὲ λέκτο καὶ αὐτός.\nἡμεῖς δὲ ἰάχοντες ἐπεσσύμεθʼ, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας\nβάλλομεν· οὐδʼ ὁ γέρων δολίης ἐπελήθετο τέχνης,\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι πρώτιστα λέων γένετʼ ἠυγένειος,\nαὐτὰρ ἔπειτα δράκων καὶ πάρδαλις ἠδὲ μέγας σῦς·\nγίγνετο δʼ ὑγρὸν ὕδωρ καὶ δένδρεον ὑψιπέτηλον·\nἡμεῖς δʼ ἀστεμφέως ἔχομεν τετληότι θυμῷ.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἀνίαζʼ ὁ γέρων ὀλοφώια εἰδώς,\nκαὶ τότε δή μʼ ἐπέεσσιν ἀνειρόμενος προσέειπε·\nτίς νύ τοι, Ἀτρέος υἱέ, θεῶν συμφράσσατο βουλάς,\nὄφρα μʼ ἕλοις ἀέκοντα λοχησάμενος; τέο σε χρή;\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nοἶσθα, γέρον, τί με ταῦτα παρατροπέων ἐρεείνεις;\nὡς δὴ δήθʼ ἐνὶ νήσῳ ἐρύκομαι, οὐδέ τι τέκμωρ\nεὑρέμεναι δύναμαι, μινύθει δέ μοι ἔνδοθεν ἦτορ.\nἀλλὰ σύ πέρ μοι εἰπέ, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα ἴσασιν,\nὅς τίς μʼ ἀθανάτων πεδάᾳ καὶ ἔδησε κελεύθου,\nνόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσομαι ἰχθυόεντα.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·\nἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὤφελλες Διί τʼ ἄλλοισίν τε θεοῖσι\nῥέξας ἱερὰ κάλʼ ἀναβαινέμεν, ὄφρα τάχιστα\nσὴν ἐς πατρίδʼ ἵκοιο πλέων ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον.\nοὐ γάρ τοι πρὶν μοῖρα φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι\nοἶκον ἐυκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nπρίν γʼ ὅτʼ ἂν Αἰγύπτοιο, διιπετέος ποταμοῖο,\nαὖτις ὕδωρ ἔλθῃς ῥέξῃς θʼ ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας\nἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι·\nκαὶ τότε τοι δώσουσιν ὁδὸν θεοί, ἣν σὺ μενοινᾷς.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,\nοὕνεκά μʼ αὖτις ἄνωγεν ἐπʼ ἠεροειδέα πόντον\nΑἴγυπτόνδʼ ἰέναι, δολιχὴν ὁδὸν ἀργαλέην τε.\nἀλλὰ καὶ ὣς μύθοισιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nταῦτα μὲν οὕτω δὴ τελέω, γέρον, ὡς σὺ κελεύεις.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,\nἢ πάντες σὺν νηυσὶν ἀπήμονες ἦλθον Ἀχαιοί,\nοὓς Νέστωρ καὶ ἐγὼ λίπομεν Τροίηθεν ἰόντες,\nἦέ τις ὤλετʼ ὀλέθρῳ ἀδευκέι ἧς ἐπὶ νηὸς\nἠὲ φίλων ἐν χερσίν, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσεν.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·\nἈτρεΐδη, τί με ταῦτα διείρεαι; οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ\nἴδμεναι, οὐδὲ δαῆναι ἐμὸν νόον· οὐδέ σέ φημι\nδὴν ἄκλαυτον ἔσεσθαι, ἐπὴν ἐὺ πάντα πύθηαι.\nπολλοὶ μὲν γὰρ τῶν γε δάμεν, πολλοὶ δὲ λίποντο·\nἀρχοὶ δʼ αὖ δύο μοῦνοι Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων\nἐν νόστῳ ἀπόλοντο· μάχῃ δέ τε καὶ σὺ παρῆσθα.\nεἷς δʼ ἔτι που ζωὸς κατερύκεται εὐρέι πόντῳ.\nΑἴας μὲν μετὰ νηυσὶ δάμη δολιχηρέτμοισι.\nΓυρῇσίν μιν πρῶτα Ποσειδάων ἐπέλασσεν\nπέτρῃσιν μεγάλῃσι καὶ ἐξεσάωσε θαλάσσης·\nκαί νύ κεν ἔκφυγε κῆρα καὶ ἐχθόμενός περ Ἀθήνῃ,\nεἰ μὴ ὑπερφίαλον ἔπος ἔκβαλε καὶ μέγʼ ἀάσθη·\nφῆ ῥʼ ἀέκητι θεῶν φυγέειν μέγα λαῖτμα θαλάσσης.\nτοῦ δὲ Ποσειδάων μεγάλʼ ἔκλυεν αὐδήσαντος·\nαὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα τρίαιναν ἑλὼν χερσὶ στιβαρῇσιν\nἤλασε Γυραίην πέτρην, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔσχισεν αὐτήν·\nκαὶ τὸ μὲν αὐτόθι μεῖνε, τὸ δὲ τρύφος ἔμπεσε πόντῳ,\nτῷ ῥʼ Αἴας τὸ πρῶτον ἐφεζόμενος μέγʼ ἀάσθη·\nτὸν δʼ ἐφόρει κατὰ πόντον ἀπείρονα κυμαίνοντα.\nὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθʼ ἀπόλωλεν, ἐπεὶ πίεν ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.\nσὸς δέ που ἔκφυγε κῆρας ἀδελφεὸς ἠδʼ ὑπάλυξεν\nἐν νηυσὶ γλαφυρῇσι· σάωσε δὲ πότνια Ἥρη.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τάχʼ ἔμελλε Μαλειάων ὄρος αἰπὺ\nἵξεσθαι, τότε δή μιν ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα φέρεν βαρέα στενάχοντα,\nἀγροῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιήν, ὅθι δώματα ναῖε Θυέστης\nτὸ πρίν, ἀτὰρ τότʼ ἔναιε Θυεστιάδης Αἴγισθος.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ καὶ κεῖθεν ἐφαίνετο νόστος ἀπήμων,\nἂψ δὲ θεοὶ οὖρον στρέψαν, καὶ οἴκαδʼ ἵκοντο,\nἦ τοι ὁ μὲν χαίρων ἐπεβήσετο πατρίδος αἴης\nκαὶ κύνει ἁπτόμενος ἣν πατρίδα· πολλὰ δʼ ἀπʼ αὐτοῦ\nδάκρυα θερμὰ χέοντʼ, ἐπεὶ ἀσπασίως ἴδε γαῖαν.\nτὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἀπὸ σκοπιῆς εἶδε σκοπός, ὅν ῥα καθεῖσεν\nΑἴγισθος δολόμητις ἄγων, ὑπὸ δʼ ἔσχετο μισθὸν\nχρυσοῦ δοιὰ τάλαντα· φύλασσε δʼ ὅ γʼ εἰς ἐνιαυτόν,\nμή ἑ λάθοι παριών, μνήσαιτο δὲ θούριδος ἀλκῆς.\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἀγγελέων πρὸς δώματα ποιμένι λαῶν.\nαὐτίκα δʼ Αἴγισθος δολίην ἐφράσσατο τέχνην·\nκρινάμενος κατὰ δῆμον ἐείκοσι φῶτας ἀρίστους\nεἷσε λόχον, ἑτέρωθι δʼ ἀνώγει δαῖτα πένεσθαι.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ καλέων Ἀγαμέμνονα, ποιμένα λαῶν\nἵπποισιν καὶ ὄχεσφιν, ἀεικέα μερμηρίζων.\nτὸν δʼ οὐκ εἰδότʼ ὄλεθρον ἀνήγαγε καὶ κατέπεφνεν\nδειπνίσσας, ὥς τίς τε κατέκτανε βοῦν ἐπὶ φάτνῃ.\nοὐδέ τις Ἀτρεΐδεω ἑτάρων λίπεθʼ οἵ οἱ ἕποντο,\nοὐδέ τις Αἰγίσθου, ἀλλʼ ἔκταθεν ἐν μεγάροισιν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,\nκλαῖον δʼ ἐν ψαμάθοισι καθήμενος, οὐδέ νύ μοι κῆρ\nἤθελʼ ἔτι ζώειν καὶ ὁρᾶν φάος ἠελίοιο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κλαίων τε κυλινδόμενός τε κορέσθην,\nδὴ τότε με προσέειπε γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής·\nμηκέτι, Ἀτρέος υἱέ, πολὺν χρόνον ἀσκελὲς οὕτω\nκλαῖʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἄνυσίν τινα δήομεν· ἀλλὰ τάχιστα\nπείρα ὅπως κεν δὴ σὴν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηαι.\nἢ γάρ μιν ζωόν γε κιχήσεαι, ἤ κεν Ὀρέστης\nκτεῖνεν ὑποφθάμενος, σὺ δέ κεν τάφου ἀντιβολήσαις.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ\nαὖτις ἐνὶ στήθεσσι καὶ ἀχνυμένῳ περ ἰάνθη,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·\nτούτους μὲν δὴ οἶδα· σὺ δὲ τρίτον ἄνδρʼ ὀνόμαζε,\nὅς τις ἔτι ζωὸς κατερύκεται εὐρέι πόντῳ\nἠὲ θανών· ἐθέλω δὲ καὶ ἀχνύμενός περ ἀκοῦσαι.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·\nυἱὸς Λαέρτεω, Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκία ναίων·\nτὸν δʼ ἴδον ἐν νήσῳ θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντα,\nνύμφης ἐν μεγάροισι Καλυψοῦς, ἥ μιν ἀνάγκῃ\nἴσχει· ὁ δʼ οὐ δύναται ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·\nοὐ γάρ οἱ πάρα νῆες ἐπήρετμοι καὶ ἑταῖροι,\nοἵ κέν μιν πέμποιεν ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.\nσοὶ δʼ οὐ θέσφατόν ἐστι, διοτρεφὲς ὦ Μενέλαε,\nἌργει ἐν ἱπποβότῳ θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν,\nἀλλά σʼ ἐς Ἠλύσιον πεδίον καὶ πείρατα γαίης\nἀθάνατοι πέμψουσιν, ὅθι ξανθὸς Ῥαδάμανθυς,\nτῇ περ ῥηίστη βιοτὴ πέλει ἀνθρώποισιν·\nοὐ νιφετός, οὔτʼ ἂρ χειμὼν πολὺς οὔτε ποτʼ ὄμβρος,\nἀλλʼ αἰεὶ Ζεφύροιο λιγὺ πνείοντος ἀήτας\nὨκεανὸς ἀνίησιν ἀναψύχειν ἀνθρώπους·\nοὕνεκʼ ἔχεις Ἑλένην καί σφιν γαμβρὸς Διός ἐσσι.\nὣς εἰπὼν ὑπὸ πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆας ἅμʼ ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισιν\nἤια, πολλὰ δέ μοι κραδίη πόρφυρε κιόντι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλθομεν ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,\nδόρπον θʼ ὁπλισάμεσθʼ, ἐπί τʼ ἤλυθεν ἀμβροσίη νύξ,\nδὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nνῆας μὲν πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσαμεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν,\nἐν δʼ ἱστοὺς τιθέμεσθα καὶ ἱστία νηυσὶν ἐίσῃς,\nἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βάντες ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον·\nἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.\nἂψ δʼ εἰς Αἰγύπτοιο διιπετέος ποταμοῖο\nστῆσα νέας, καὶ ἔρεξα τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κατέπαυσα θεῶν χόλον αἰὲν ἐόντων,\nχεῦʼ Ἀγαμέμνονι τύμβον, ἵνʼ ἄσβεστον κλέος εἴη.\nταῦτα τελευτήσας νεόμην, ἔδοσαν δέ μοι οὖρον\nἀθάνατοι, τοί μʼ ὦκα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔπεμψαν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἐπίμεινον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσιν,\nὄφρα κεν ἑνδεκάτη τε δυωδεκάτη τε γένηται·\nκαὶ τότε σʼ εὖ πέμψω, δώσω δέ τοι ἀγλαὰ δῶρα,\nτρεῖς ἵππους καὶ δίφρον ἐύξοον· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nδώσω καλὸν ἄλεισον, ἵνα σπένδῃσθα θεοῖσιν\nἀθανάτοις ἐμέθεν μεμνημένος ἤματα πάντα.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἈτρεΐδη, μὴ δή με πολὺν χρόνον ἐνθάδʼ ἔρυκε.\nκαὶ γάρ κʼ εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν ἐγὼ παρὰ σοί γʼ ἀνεχοίμην\nἥμενος, οὐδέ κέ μʼ οἴκου ἕλοι πόθος οὐδὲ τοκήων·\nαἰνῶς γὰρ μύθοισιν ἔπεσσί τε σοῖσιν ἀκούων\nτέρπομαι. ἀλλʼ ἤδη μοι ἀνιάζουσιν ἑταῖροι\nἐν Πύλῳ ἠγαθέῃ· σὺ δέ με χρόνον ἐνθάδʼ ἐρύκεις.\nδῶρον δʼ ὅττι κέ μοι δοίης, κειμήλιον ἔστω·\nἵππους δʼ εἰς Ἰθάκην οὐκ ἄξομαι, ἀλλὰ σοὶ αὐτῷ\nἐνθάδε λείψω ἄγαλμα· σὺ γὰρ πεδίοιο ἀνάσσεις\nεὐρέος, ᾧ ἔνι μὲν λωτὸς πολύς, ἐν δὲ κύπειρον\nπυροί τε ζειαί τε ἰδʼ εὐρυφυὲς κρῖ λευκόν.\nἐν δʼ Ἰθάκῃ οὔτʼ ἂρ δρόμοι εὐρέες οὔτε τι λειμών·\nαἰγίβοτος, καὶ μᾶλλον ἐπήρατος ἱπποβότοιο.\nοὐ γάρ τις νήσων ἱππήλατος οὐδʼ ἐυλείμων,\nαἵ θʼ ἁλὶ κεκλίαται· Ἰθάκη δέ τε καὶ περὶ πασέων.\nὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος,\nχειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nαἵματός εἰς ἀγαθοῖο, φίλον τέκος, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μεταστήσω· δύναμαι γάρ.\nδώρων δʼ ὅσσʼ ἐν ἐμῷ οἴκῳ κειμήλια κεῖται,\nδώσω ὃ κάλλιστον καὶ τιμηέστατόν ἐστιν·\nδώσω τοι κρητῆρα τετυγμένον· ἀργύρεος δὲ\nἔστιν ἅπας, χρυσῷ δʼ ἐπὶ χείλεα κεκράανται,\nἔργον δʼ Ἡφαίστοιο. πόρεν δέ ἑ Φαίδιμος ἥρως,\nΣιδονίων βασιλεύς, ὅθʼ ἑὸς δόμος ἀμφεκάλυψε\nκεῖσέ με νοστήσαντα· τεῒν δʼ ἐθέλω τόδʼ ὀπάσσαι.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nδαιτυμόνες δʼ ἐς δώματʼ ἴσαν θείου βασιλῆος.\nοἱ δʼ ἦγον μὲν μῆλα, φέρον δʼ ἐυήνορα οἶνον·\nσῖτον δέ σφʼ ἄλοχοι καλλικρήδεμνοι ἔπεμπον.\nὣς οἱ μὲν περὶ δεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πένοντο.\nμνηστῆρες δὲ πάροιθεν Ὀδυσσῆος μεγάροιο\nδίσκοισιν τέρποντο καὶ αἰγανέῃσιν ἱέντες\nἐν τυκτῷ δαπέδῳ, ὅθι περ πάρος, ὕβριν ἔχοντες.\nἈντίνοος δὲ καθῆστο καὶ Εὐρύμαχος θεοειδής,\nἀρχοὶ μνηστήρων, ἀρετῇ δʼ ἔσαν ἔξοχʼ ἄριστοι.\nτοῖς δʼ υἱὸς Φρονίοιο Νοήμων ἐγγύθεν ἐλθὼν\nἈντίνοον μύθοισιν ἀνειρόμενος προσέειπεν·\nἈντίνοʼ, ἦ ῥά τι ἴδμεν ἐνὶ φρεσίν, ἦε καὶ οὐκί,\nὁππότε Τηλέμαχος νεῖτʼ ἐκ Πύλου ἠμαθόεντος;\nνῆά μοι οἴχετʼ ἄγων· ἐμὲ δὲ χρεὼ γίγνεται αὐτῆς\nἬλιδʼ ἐς εὐρύχορον διαβήμεναι, ἔνθα μοι ἵπποι\nδώδεκα θήλειαι, ὑπὸ δʼ ἡμίονοι ταλαεργοὶ\nἀδμῆτες· τῶν κέν τινʼ ἐλασσάμενος δαμασαίμην.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ἐθάμβεον· οὐ γὰρ ἔφαντο\nἐς Πύλον οἴχεσθαι Νηλήιον, ἀλλά που αὐτοῦ\nἀγρῶν ἢ μήλοισι παρέμμεναι ἠὲ συβώτῃ.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη Ἐυπείθεος υἱός·\nνημερτές μοι ἔνισπε, πότʼ ᾤχετο καὶ τίνες αὐτῷ\nκοῦροι ἕποντʼ; Ἰθάκης ἐξαίρετοι, ἦ ἑοὶ αὐτοῦ\nθῆτές τε δμῶές τε; δύναιτό κε καὶ τὸ τελέσσαι.\nκαί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐὺ εἰδῶ,\nἤ σε βίῃ ἀέκοντος ἀπηύρα νῆα μέλαιναν,\nἦε ἑκών οἱ δῶκας, ἐπεὶ προσπτύξατο μύθῳ.\nτὸν δʼ υἱὸς Φρονίοιο Νοήμων ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nαὐτὸς ἑκών οἱ δῶκα· τί κεν ῥέξειε καὶ ἄλλος,\nὁππότʼ ἀνὴρ τοιοῦτος ἔχων μελεδήματα θυμῷ\nαἰτίζῃ; χαλεπόν κεν ἀνήνασθαι δόσιν εἴη.\nκοῦροι δʼ, οἳ κατὰ δῆμον ἀριστεύουσι μεθʼ ἡμέας,\nοἵ οἱ ἕποντʼ· ἐν δʼ ἀρχὸν ἐγὼ βαίνοντʼ ἐνόησα\nΜέντορα, ἠὲ θεόν, τῷ δʼ αὐτῷ πάντα ἐῴκει.\nἀλλὰ τὸ θαυμάζω· ἴδον ἐνθάδε Μέντορα δῖον\nχθιζὸν ὑπηοῖον, τότε δʼ ἔμβη νηὶ Πύλονδε.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη πρὸς δώματα πατρός,\nτοῖσιν δʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἀγάσσατο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.\nμνηστῆρας δʼ ἄμυδις κάθισαν καὶ παῦσαν ἀέθλων.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη Εὐπείθεος υἱός,\nἀχνύμενος· μένεος δὲ μέγα φρένες ἀμφιμέλαιναι\nπίμπλαντʼ, ὄσσε δέ οἱ πυρὶ λαμπετόωντι ἐίκτην·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μέγα ἔργον ὑπερφιάλως ἐτελέσθη\nΤηλεμάχῳ ὁδὸς ἥδε· φάμεν δέ οἱ οὐ τελέεσθαι.\nἐκ τοσσῶνδʼ ἀέκητι νέος πάϊς οἴχεται αὔτως\nνῆα ἐρυσσάμενος, κρίνας τʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον ἀρίστους.\nἄρξει καὶ προτέρω κακὸν ἔμμεναι· ἀλλά οἱ αὐτῷ\nΖεὺς ὀλέσειε βίην, πρὶν ἥβης μέτρον ἱκέσθαι.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι δότε νῆα θοὴν καὶ εἴκοσʼ ἑταίρους,\nὄφρα μιν αὐτὸν ἰόντα λοχήσομαι ἠδὲ φυλάξω\nἐν πορθμῷ Ἰθάκης τε Σάμοιό τε παιπαλοέσσης,\nὡς ἂν ἐπισμυγερῶς ναυτίλλεται εἵνεκα πατρός.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον.\nαὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀνστάντες ἔβαν δόμον εἰς Ὀδυσῆος.\nοὐδʼ ἄρα Πηνελόπεια πολὺν χρόνον ἦεν ἄπυστος\nμύθων, οὓς μνηστῆρες ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βυσσοδόμευον·\nκῆρυξ γάρ οἱ ἔειπε Μέδων, ὃς ἐπεύθετο βουλὰς\nαὐλῆς ἐκτὸς ἐών· οἱ δʼ ἔνδοθι μῆτιν ὕφαινον.\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἀγγελέων διὰ δώματα Πηνελοπείῃ·\nτὸν δὲ κατʼ οὐδοῦ βάντα προσηύδα Πηνελόπεια·\nκῆρυξ, τίπτε δέ σε πρόεσαν μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοί;\nἦ εἰπέμεναι δμῳῇσιν Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο\nἔργων παύσασθαι, σφίσι δʼ αὐτοῖς δαῖτα πένεσθαι;\nμὴ μνηστεύσαντες μηδʼ ἄλλοθʼ ὁμιλήσαντες\nὕστατα καὶ πύματα νῦν ἐνθάδε δειπνήσειαν·\nοἳ θάμʼ ἀγειρόμενοι βίοτον κατακείρετε πολλόν,\nκτῆσιν Τηλεμάχοιο δαΐφρονος· οὐδέ τι πατρῶν\nὑμετέρων τὸ πρόσθεν ἀκούετε, παῖδες ἐόντες,\nοἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκε μεθʼ ὑμετέροισι τοκεῦσιν,\nοὔτε τινὰ ῥέξας ἐξαίσιον οὔτε τι εἰπὼν\nἐν δήμῳ, ἥ τʼ ἐστὶ δίκη θείων βασιλήων·\nἄλλον κʼ ἐχθαίρῃσι βροτῶν, ἄλλον κε φιλοίη.\nκεῖνος δʼ οὔ ποτε πάμπαν ἀτάσθαλον ἄνδρα ἐώργει.\nἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ὑμέτερος θυμὸς καὶ ἀεικέα ἔργα\nφαίνεται, οὐδέ τίς ἐστι χάρις μετόπισθʼ ἐυεργέων.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·\nαἲ γὰρ δή, βασίλεια, τόδε πλεῖστον κακὸν εἴη.\nἀλλὰ πολὺ μεῖζόν τε καὶ ἀργαλεώτερον ἄλλο\nμνηστῆρες φράζονται, ὃ μὴ τελέσειε Κρονίων·\nΤηλέμαχον μεμάασι κατακτάμεν ὀξέι χαλκῷ\nοἴκαδε νισόμενον· ὁ δʼ ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν\nἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην ἠδʼ ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν.\nὣς φάτο, τῆς δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,\nδὴν δέ μιν ἀμφασίη ἐπέων λάβε· τὼ δέ οἱ ὄσσε\nδακρυόφι πλῆσθεν, θαλερὴ δέ οἱ ἔσχετο φωνή.\nὀψὲ δὲ δή μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε·\nκῆρυξ, τίπτε δέ μοι πάϊς οἴχεται; οὐδέ τί μιν χρεὼ\nνηῶν ὠκυπόρων ἐπιβαινέμεν, αἵ θʼ ἁλὸς ἵπποι\nἀνδράσι γίγνονται, περόωσι δὲ πουλὺν ἐφʼ ὑγρήν.\nἦ ἵνα μηδʼ ὄνομʼ αὐτοῦ ἐν ἀνθρώποισι λίπηται;\nτὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·\nοὐκ οἶδʼ ἤ τίς μιν θεὸς ὤρορεν, ἦε καὶ αὐτοῦ\nθυμὸς ἐφωρμήθη ἴμεν ἐς Πύλον, ὄφρα πύθηται\nπατρὸς ἑοῦ ἢ νόστον ἢ ὅν τινα πότμον ἐπέσπεν.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη κατὰ δῶμʼ Ὀδυσῆος.\nτὴν δʼ ἄχος ἀμφεχύθη θυμοφθόρον, οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτʼ ἔτλη\nδίφρῳ ἐφέζεσθαι πολλῶν κατὰ οἶκον ἐόντων,\nἀλλʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδοῦ ἷζε πολυκμήτου θαλάμοιο\nοἴκτρʼ ὀλοφυρομένη· περὶ δὲ δμῳαὶ μινύριζον\nπᾶσαι, ὅσαι κατὰ δώματʼ ἔσαν νέαι ἠδὲ παλαιαί.\nτῇς δʼ ἁδινὸν γοόωσα μετηύδα Πηνελόπεια·\nκλῦτε, φίλαι· πέρι γάρ μοι Ὀλύμπιος ἄλγεʼ ἔδωκεν\nἐκ πασέων, ὅσσαι μοι ὁμοῦ τράφεν ἠδʼ ἐγένοντο·\nἣ πρὶν μὲν πόσιν ἐσθλὸν ἀπώλεσα θυμολέοντα,\nπαντοίῃς ἀρετῇσι κεκασμένον ἐν Δαναοῖσιν,\nἐσθλόν, τοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ καθʼ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος.\nνῦν αὖ παῖδʼ ἀγαπητὸν ἀνηρείψαντο θύελλαι\nἀκλέα ἐκ μεγάρων, οὐδʼ ὁρμηθέντος ἄκουσα.\nσχέτλιαι, οὐδʼ ὑμεῖς περ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θέσθε ἑκάστη\nἐκ λεχέων μʼ ἀνεγεῖραι, ἐπιστάμεναι σάφα θυμῷ,\nὁππότʼ ἐκεῖνος ἔβη κοίλην ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν.\nεἰ γὰρ ἐγὼ πυθόμην ταύτην ὁδὸν ὁρμαίνοντα,\nτῷ κε μάλʼ ἤ κεν ἔμεινε καὶ ἐσσύμενός περ ὁδοῖο,\nἤ κέ με τεθνηκυῖαν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔλειπεν.\nἀλλά τις ὀτρηρῶς Δολίον καλέσειε γέροντα,\nδμῶʼ ἐμόν, ὅν μοι δῶκε πατὴρ ἔτι δεῦρο κιούσῃ,\nκαί μοι κῆπον ἔχει πολυδένδρεον, ὄφρα τάχιστα\nΛαέρτῃ τάδε πάντα παρεζόμενος καταλέξῃ,\nεἰ δή πού τινα κεῖνος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μῆτιν ὑφήνας\nἐξελθὼν λαοῖσιν ὀδύρεται, οἳ μεμάασιν\nὃν καὶ Ὀδυσσῆος φθῖσαι γόνον ἀντιθέοιο.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·\nνύμφα φίλη, σὺ μὲν ἄρ με κατάκτανε νηλέι χαλκῷ\nἢ ἔα ἐν μεγάρῳ· μῦθον δέ τοι οὐκ ἐπικεύσω.\nᾔδεʼ ἐγὼ τάδε πάντα, πόρον δέ οἱ ὅσσʼ ἐκέλευε,\nσῖτον καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ· ἐμεῦ δʼ ἕλετο μέγαν ὅρκον\nμὴ πρὶν σοὶ ἐρέειν, πρὶν δωδεκάτην γε γενέσθαι\nἢ σʼ αὐτὴν ποθέσαι καὶ ἀφορμηθέντος ἀκοῦσαι,\nὡς ἂν μὴ κλαίουσα κατὰ χρόα καλὸν ἰάπτῃς.\nἀλλʼ ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθʼ ἑλοῦσα,\nεἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν\nεὔχεʼ Ἀθηναίῃ κούρῃ Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο·\nἡ γάρ κέν μιν ἔπειτα καὶ ἐκ θανάτοιο σαώσαι.\nμηδὲ γέροντα κάκου κεκακωμένον· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω\nπάγχυ θεοῖς μακάρεσσι γονὴν Ἀρκεισιάδαο\nἔχθεσθʼ, ἀλλʼ ἔτι πού τις ἐπέσσεται ὅς κεν ἔχῃσι\nδώματά θʼ ὑψερεφέα καὶ ἀπόπροθι πίονας ἀγρούς.\nὣς φάτο, τῆς δʼ εὔνησε γόον, σχέθε δʼ ὄσσε γόοιο.\nἡ δʼ ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθʼ ἑλοῦσα\nεἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀνέβαινε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξίν,\nἐν δʼ ἔθετʼ οὐλοχύτας κανέῳ, ἠρᾶτο δʼ Ἀθήνῃ·\nκλῦθί μευ, αἰγιόχοιο Διὸς τέκος, Ἀτρυτώνη,\nεἴ ποτέ τοι πολύμητις ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἢ βοὸς ἢ ὄϊος κατὰ πίονα μηρίʼ ἔκηε,\nτῶν νῦν μοι μνῆσαι, καί μοι φίλον υἷα σάωσον,\nμνηστῆρας δʼ ἀπάλαλκε κακῶς ὑπερηνορέοντας.\nὣς εἰποῦσʼ ὀλόλυξε, θεὰ δέ οἱ ἔκλυεν ἀρῆς.\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ὁμάδησαν ἀνὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα·\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·\nἦ μάλα δὴ γάμον ἄμμι πολυμνήστη βασίλεια\nἀρτύει, οὐδέ τι οἶδεν ὅ οἱ φόνος υἷι τέτυκται.\nὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε, τὰ δʼ οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·\nδαιμόνιοι, μύθους μὲν ὑπερφιάλους ἀλέασθε\nπάντας ὁμῶς, μή πού τις ἀπαγγείλῃσι καὶ εἴσω.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε σιγῇ τοῖον ἀναστάντες τελέωμεν\nμῦθον, ὃ δὴ καὶ πᾶσιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἤραρεν ἡμῖν.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἐκρίνατʼ ἐείκοσι φῶτας ἀρίστους,\nβὰν δʼ ἰέναι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.\nνῆα μὲν οὖν πάμπρωτον ἁλὸς βένθοσδε ἔρυσσαν,\nἐν δʼ ἱστόν τʼ ἐτίθεντο καὶ ἱστία νηὶ μελαίνῃ,\nἠρτύναντο δʼ ἐρετμὰ τροποῖς ἐν δερματίνοισιν,\nπάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λευκὰ πέτασσαν·\nτεύχεα δέ σφʼ ἤνεικαν ὑπέρθυμοι θεράποντες.\nὑψοῦ δʼ ἐν νοτίῳ τήν γʼ ὥρμισαν, ἐκ δʼ ἔβαν αὐτοί·\nἔνθα δὲ δόρπον ἕλοντο, μένον δʼ ἐπὶ ἕσπερον ἐλθεῖν.\nἡ δʼ ὑπερωίῳ αὖθι περίφρων Πηνελόπεια\nκεῖτʼ ἄρʼ ἄσιτος, ἄπαστος ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,\nὁρμαίνουσʼ ἤ οἱ θάνατον φύγοι υἱὸς ἀμύμων,\nἦ ὅ γʼ ὑπὸ μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι δαμείη.\nὅσσα δὲ μερμήριξε λέων ἀνδρῶν ἐν ὁμίλῳ\nδείσας, ὁππότε μιν δόλιον περὶ κύκλον ἄγωσι,\nτόσσα μιν ὁρμαίνουσαν ἐπήλυθε νήδυμος ὕπνος·\nεὗδε δʼ ἀνακλινθεῖσα, λύθεν δέ οἱ ἅψεα πάντα.\nἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nεἴδωλον ποίησε, δέμας δʼ ἤικτο γυναικί,\nἸφθίμῃ, κούρῃ μεγαλήτορος Ἰκαρίοιο,\nτὴν Εὔμηλος ὄπυιε Φερῇς ἔνι οἰκία ναίων.\nπέμπε δέ μιν πρὸς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,\nἧος Πηνελόπειαν ὀδυρομένην γοόωσαν\nπαύσειε κλαυθμοῖο γόοιό τε δακρυόεντος.\nἐς θάλαμον δʼ εἰσῆλθε παρὰ κληῖδος ἱμάντα,\nστῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·\nεὕδεις, Πηνελόπεια, φίλον τετιημένη ἦτορ;\nοὐ μέν σʼ οὐδὲ ἐῶσι θεοὶ ῥεῖα ζώοντες\nκλαίειν οὐδʼ ἀκάχησθαι, ἐπεί ῥʼ ἔτι νόστιμός ἐστι\nσὸς παῖς· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι θεοῖς ἀλιτήμενός ἐστι.\nτὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,\nἡδὺ μάλα κνώσσουσʼ ἐν ὀνειρείῃσι πύλῃσιν·\nτίπτε, κασιγνήτη, δεῦρʼ ἤλυθες; οὔ τι πάρος γε\nπωλέʼ, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὸν ἀπόπροθι δώματα ναίεις·\nκαί με κέλεαι παύσασθαι ὀιζύος ἠδʼ ὀδυνάων\nπολλέων, αἵ μʼ ἐρέθουσι κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,\nἣ πρὶν μὲν πόσιν ἐσθλὸν ἀπώλεσα θυμολέοντα,\nπαντοίῃς ἀρετῇσι κεκασμένον ἐν Δαναοῖσιν,\nἐσθλόν, τοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ καθʼ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος·\nνῦν αὖ παῖς ἀγαπητὸς ἔβη κοίλης ἐπὶ νηός,\nνήπιος, οὔτε πόνων ἐὺ εἰδὼς οὔτʼ ἀγοράων.\nτοῦ δὴ ἐγὼ καὶ μᾶλλον ὀδύρομαι ἤ περ ἐκείνου·\nτοῦ δʼ ἀμφιτρομέω καὶ δείδια, μή τι πάθῃσιν,\nἢ ὅ γε τῶν ἐνὶ δήμῳ, ἵνʼ οἴχεται, ἢ ἐνὶ πόντῳ·\nδυσμενέες γὰρ πολλοὶ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ μηχανόωνται,\nἱέμενοι κτεῖναι πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενον προσέφη εἴδωλον ἀμαυρόν·\nθάρσει, μηδέ τι πάγχυ μετὰ φρεσὶ δείδιθι λίην·\nτοίη γάρ οἱ πομπὸς ἅμʼ ἔρχεται, ἥν τε καὶ ἄλλοι\nἀνέρες ἠρήσαντο παρεστάμεναι, δύναται γάρ,\nΠαλλὰς Ἀθηναίη· σὲ δʼ ὀδυρομένην ἐλεαίρει·\nἣ νῦν με προέηκε τεῒν τάδε μυθήσασθαι.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nεἰ μὲν δὴ θεός ἐσσι θεοῖό τε ἔκλυες αὐδῆς,\nεἰ δʼ ἄγε μοι καὶ κεῖνον ὀιζυρὸν κατάλεξον,\nἤ που ἔτι ζώει καὶ ὁρᾷ φάος ἠελίοιο,\nἦ ἤδη τέθνηκε καὶ εἰν Ἀίδαο δόμοισι.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενον προσέφη εἴδωλον ἀμαυρόν·\nοὐ μέν τοι κεῖνόν γε διηνεκέως ἀγορεύσω,\nζώει ὅ γʼ ἦ τέθνηκε· κακὸν δʼ ἀνεμώλια βάζειν.\nὣς εἰπὸν σταθμοῖο παρὰ κληῖδα λιάσθη\nἐς πνοιὰς ἀνέμων. ἡ δʼ ἐξ ὕπνου ἀνόρουσε\nκούρη Ἰκαρίοιο· φίλον δέ οἱ ἦτορ ἰάνθη,\nὥς οἱ ἐναργὲς ὄνειρον ἐπέσσυτο νυκτὸς ἀμολγῷ.\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ἀναβάντες ἐπέπλεον ὑγρὰ κέλευθα\nΤηλεμάχῳ φόνον αἰπὺν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ὁρμαίνοντες.\nἔστι δέ τις νῆσος μέσσῃ ἁλὶ πετρήεσσα,\nμεσσηγὺς Ἰθάκης τε Σάμοιό τε παιπαλοέσσης,\nἈστερίς, οὐ μεγάλη· λιμένες δʼ ἔνι ναύλοχοι αὐτῇ\nἀμφίδυμοι· τῇ τόν γε μένον λοχόωντες Ἀχαιοί.\n\n### Book 5\n\nἨὼς δʼ ἐκ λεχέων παρʼ ἀγαυοῦ Τιθωνοῖο\nὤρνυθʼ, ἵνʼ ἀθανάτοισι φόως φέροι ἠδὲ βροτοῖσιν·\nοἱ δὲ θεοὶ θῶκόνδε καθίζανον, ἐν δʼ ἄρα τοῖσι\nΖεὺς ὑψιβρεμέτης, οὗ τε κράτος ἐστὶ μέγιστον.\nτοῖσι δʼ Ἀθηναίη λέγε κήδεα πόλλʼ Ὀδυσῆος\nμνησαμένη· μέλε γάρ οἱ ἐὼν ἐν δώμασι νύμφης·\nΖεῦ πάτερ ἠδʼ ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,\nμή τις ἔτι πρόφρων ἀγανὸς καὶ ἤπιος ἔστω\nσκηπτοῦχος βασιλεύς, μηδὲ φρεσὶν αἴσιμα εἰδώς,\nἀλλʼ αἰεὶ χαλεπός τʼ εἴη καὶ αἴσυλα ῥέζοι·\nὡς οὔ τις μέμνηται Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο\nλαῶν οἷσιν ἄνασσε, πατὴρ δʼ ὣς ἤπιος ἦεν.\nἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἐν νήσῳ κεῖται κρατέρʼ ἄλγεα πάσχων\nνύμφης ἐν μεγάροισι Καλυψοῦς, ἥ μιν ἀνάγκῃ\nἴσχει· ὁ δʼ οὐ δύναται ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·\nοὐ γάρ οἱ πάρα νῆες ἐπήρετμοι καὶ ἑταῖροι,\nοἵ κέν μιν πέμποιεν ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.\nνῦν αὖ παῖδʼ ἀγαπητὸν ἀποκτεῖναι μεμάασιν\nοἴκαδε νισόμενον· ὁ δʼ ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν\nἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην ἠδʼ ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·\nτέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων.\nοὐ γὰρ δὴ τοῦτον μὲν ἐβούλευσας νόον αὐτή,\nὡς ἦ τοι κείνους Ὀδυσεὺς ἀποτίσεται ἐλθών;\nΤηλέμαχον δὲ σὺ πέμψον ἐπισταμένως, δύνασαι γάρ,\nὥς κε μάλʼ ἀσκηθὴς ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηται,\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ἐν νηὶ· παλιμπετὲς ἀπονέωνται.\nἦ ῥα καὶ Ἑρμείαν, υἱὸν φίλον, ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἙρμεία, σὺ γὰρ αὖτε τά τʼ ἄλλα περ ἄγγελός ἐσσι,\nνύμφῃ ἐυπλοκάμῳ εἰπεῖν νημερτέα βουλήν,\nνόστον Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος, ὥς κε νέηται\nοὔτε θεῶν πομπῇ οὔτε θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων·\nἀλλʼ ὅ γʼ ἐπὶ σχεδίης πολυδέσμου πήματα πάσχων\nἤματί κʼ εἰκοστῷ Σχερίην ἐρίβωλον ἵκοιτο,\nΦαιήκων ἐς γαῖαν, οἳ ἀγχίθεοι γεγάασιν,\nοἵ κέν μιν περὶ κῆρι θεὸν ὣς τιμήσουσιν,\nπέμψουσιν δʼ ἐν νηὶ φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nχαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά τε δόντες,\nπόλλʼ, ὅσʼ ἂν οὐδέ ποτε Τροίης ἐξήρατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nεἴ περ ἀπήμων ἦλθε, λαχὼν ἀπὸ ληίδος αἶσαν.\nὣς γάρ οἱ μοῖρʼ ἐστὶ φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι\nοἶκον ἐς ὑψόροφον καὶ ἑὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, οὐδʼ ἀπίθησε διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης.\nαὐτίκʼ ἔπειθʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,\nἀμβρόσια χρύσεια, τά μιν φέρον ἠμὲν ἐφʼ ὑγρὴν\nἠδʼ ἐπʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν ἅμα πνοιῇς ἀνέμοιο.\nεἵλετο δὲ ῥάβδον, τῇ τʼ ἀνδρῶν ὄμματα θέλγει,\nὧν ἐθέλει, τοὺς δʼ αὖτε καὶ ὑπνώοντας ἐγείρει.\nτὴν μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχων πέτετο κρατὺς ἀργεϊφόντης.\nΠιερίην δʼ ἐπιβὰς ἐξ αἰθέρος ἔμπεσε πόντῳ·\nσεύατʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ κῦμα λάρῳ ὄρνιθι ἐοικώς,\nὅς τε κατὰ δεινοὺς κόλπους ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο\nἰχθῦς ἀγρώσσων πυκινὰ πτερὰ δεύεται ἅλμῃ·\nτῷ ἴκελος πολέεσσιν ὀχήσατο κύμασιν Ἑρμῆς.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἀφίκετο τηλόθʼ ἐοῦσαν,\nἔνθʼ ἐκ πόντου βὰς ἰοειδέος ἤπειρόνδε\nἤιεν, ὄφρα μέγα σπέος ἵκετο, τῷ ἔνι νύμφη\nναῖεν ἐυπλόκαμος· τὴν δʼ ἔνδοθι τέτμεν ἐοῦσαν.\nπῦρ μὲν ἐπʼ ἐσχαρόφιν μέγα καίετο, τηλόσε δʼ ὀδμὴ\nκέδρου τʼ εὐκεάτοιο θύου τʼ ἀνὰ νῆσον ὀδώδει\nδαιομένων· ἡ δʼ ἔνδον ἀοιδιάουσʼ ὀπὶ καλῇ\nἱστὸν ἐποιχομένη χρυσείῃ κερκίδʼ ὕφαινεν.\nὕλη δὲ σπέος ἀμφὶ πεφύκει τηλεθόωσα,\nκλήθρη τʼ αἴγειρός τε καὶ εὐώδης κυπάρισσος.\nἔνθα δέ τʼ ὄρνιθες τανυσίπτεροι εὐνάζοντο,\nσκῶπές τʼ ἴρηκές τε τανύγλωσσοί τε κορῶναι\nεἰνάλιαι, τῇσίν τε θαλάσσια ἔργα μέμηλεν.\nἡ δʼ αὐτοῦ τετάνυστο περὶ σπείους γλαφυροῖο\nἡμερὶς ἡβώωσα, τεθήλει δὲ σταφυλῇσι.\nκρῆναι δʼ ἑξείης πίσυρες ῥέον ὕδατι λευκῷ,\nπλησίαι ἀλλήλων τετραμμέναι ἄλλυδις ἄλλη.\nἀμφὶ δὲ λειμῶνες μαλακοὶ ἴου ἠδὲ σελίνου\nθήλεον. ἔνθα κʼ ἔπειτα καὶ ἀθάνατός περ ἐπελθὼν\nθηήσαιτο ἰδὼν καὶ τερφθείη φρεσὶν ᾗσιν.\nἔνθα στὰς θηεῖτο διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα ἑῷ θηήσατο θυμῷ,\nαὐτίκʼ ἄρʼ εἰς εὐρὺ σπέος ἤλυθεν. οὐδέ μιν ἄντην\nἠγνοίησεν ἰδοῦσα Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων·\nοὐ γάρ τʼ ἀγνῶτες θεοὶ ἀλλήλοισι πέλονται\nἀθάνατοι, οὐδʼ εἴ τις ἀπόπροθι δώματα ναίει.\nοὐδʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆα μεγαλήτορα ἔνδον ἔτετμεν,\nἀλλʼ ὅ γʼ ἐπʼ ἀκτῆς κλαῖε καθήμενος, ἔνθα πάρος περ,\nδάκρυσι καὶ στοναχῇσι καὶ ἄλγεσι θυμὸν ἐρέχθων.\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον δερκέσκετο δάκρυα λείβων.\nἙρμείαν δʼ ἐρέεινε Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,\nἐν θρόνῳ ἱδρύσασα φαεινῷ σιγαλόεντι·\nτίπτε μοι, Ἑρμεία χρυσόρραπι, εἰλήλουθας\nαἰδοῖός τε φίλος τε; πάρος γε μὲν οὔ τι θαμίζεις.\nαὔδα ὅ τι φρονέεις· τελέσαι δέ με θυμὸς ἄνωγεν,\nεἰ δύναμαι τελέσαι γε καὶ εἰ τετελεσμένον ἐστίν.\nἀλλʼ ἕπεο προτέρω, ἵνα τοι πὰρ ξείνια θείω.\nὥς ἄρα φωνήσασα θεὰ παρέθηκε τράπεζαν\nἀμβροσίης πλήσασα, κέρασσε δὲ νέκταρ ἐρυθρόν.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ πῖνε καὶ ἦσθε διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δείπνησε καὶ ἤραρε θυμὸν ἐδωδῇ,\nκαὶ τότε δή μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·\nεἰρωτᾷς μʼ ἐλθόντα θεὰ θεόν· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ τοι\nνημερτέως τὸν μῦθον ἐνισπήσω· κέλεαι γάρ.\nΖεὺς ἐμέ γʼ ἠνώγει δεῦρʼ ἐλθέμεν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα·\nτίς δʼ ἂν ἑκὼν τοσσόνδε διαδράμοι ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ\nἄσπετον; οὐδέ τις ἄγχι βροτῶν πόλις, οἵ τε θεοῖσιν\nἱερά τε ῥέζουσι καὶ ἐξαίτους ἑκατόμβας.\nἀλλὰ μάλʼ οὔ πως ἔστι Διὸς νόον αἰγιόχοιο\nοὔτε παρεξελθεῖν ἄλλον θεὸν οὔθʼ ἁλιῶσαι.\nφησί τοι ἄνδρα παρεῖναι ὀιζυρώτατον ἄλλων,\nτῶν ἀνδρῶν, οἳ ἄστυ πέρι Πριάμοιο μάχοντο\nεἰνάετες, δεκάτῳ δὲ πόλιν πέρσαντες ἔβησαν\nοἴκαδʼ· ἀτὰρ ἐν νόστῳ Ἀθηναίην ἀλίτοντο,\nἥ σφιν ἐπῶρσʼ ἄνεμόν τε κακὸν καὶ κύματα μακρά.\nἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀπέφθιθεν ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι,\nτὸν δʼ ἄρα δεῦρʼ ἄνεμός τε φέρων καὶ κῦμα πέλασσε.\nτὸν νῦν σʼ ἠνώγειν ἀποπεμπέμεν ὅττι τάχιστα·\nοὐ γάρ οἱ τῇδʼ αἶσα φίλων ἀπονόσφιν ὀλέσθαι,\nἀλλʼ ἔτι οἱ μοῖρʼ ἐστὶ φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι\nοἶκον ἐς ὑψόροφον καὶ ἑὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nὣς φάτο, ῥίγησεν δὲ Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,\nκαί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nσχέτλιοί ἐστε, θεοί, ζηλήμονες ἔξοχον ἄλλων,\nοἵ τε θεαῖς ἀγάασθε παρʼ ἀνδράσιν εὐνάζεσθαι\nἀμφαδίην, ἤν τίς τε φίλον ποιήσετʼ ἀκοίτην.\nὣς μὲν ὅτʼ Ὠρίωνʼ ἕλετο ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nτόφρα οἱ ἠγάασθε θεοὶ ῥεῖα ζώοντες,\nἧος ἐν Ὀρτυγίῃ χρυσόθρονος Ἄρτεμις ἁγνὴ\nοἷς ἀγανοῖς βελέεσσιν ἐποιχομένη κατέπεφνεν.\nὣς δʼ ὁπότʼ Ἰασίωνι ἐυπλόκαμος Δημήτηρ,\nᾧ θυμῷ εἴξασα, μίγη φιλότητι καὶ εὐνῇ\nνειῷ ἔνι τριπόλῳ· οὐδὲ δὴν ἦεν ἄπυστος\nΖεύς, ὅς μιν κατέπεφνε βαλὼν ἀργῆτι κεραυνῷ.\nὣς δʼ αὖ νῦν μοι ἄγασθε, θεοί, βροτὸν ἄνδρα παρεῖναι.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼν ἐσάωσα περὶ τρόπιος βεβαῶτα\nοἶον, ἐπεί οἱ νῆα θοὴν ἀργῆτι κεραυνῷ\nΖεὺς ἔλσας ἐκέασσε μέσῳ ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ.\nἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀπέφθιθεν ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι,\nτὸν δʼ ἄρα δεῦρʼ ἄνεμός τε φέρων καὶ κῦμα πέλασσε.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼ φίλεόν τε καὶ ἔτρεφον, ἠδὲ ἔφασκον\nθήσειν ἀθάνατον καὶ ἀγήραον ἤματα πάντα.\nἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ οὔ πως ἔστι Διὸς νόον αἰγιόχοιο\nοὔτε παρεξελθεῖν ἄλλον θεὸν οὔθʼ ἁλιῶσαι,\nἐρρέτω, εἴ μιν κεῖνος ἐποτρύνει καὶ ἀνώγει,\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον· πέμψω δέ μιν οὔ πῃ ἐγώ γε·\nοὐ γάρ μοι πάρα νῆες ἐπήρετμοι καὶ ἑταῖροι,\nοἵ κέν μιν πέμποιεν ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.\nαὐτάρ οἱ πρόφρων ὑποθήσομαι, οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω,\nὥς κε μάλʼ ἀσκηθὴς ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηται.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης·\nοὕτω νῦν ἀπόπεμπε, Διὸς δʼ ἐποπίζεο μῆνιν,\nμή πώς τοι μετόπισθε κοτεσσάμενος χαλεπήνῃ.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη κρατὺς ἀργεϊφόντης·\nἡ δʼ ἐπʼ Ὀδυσσῆα μεγαλήτορα πότνια νύμφη\nἤιʼ, ἐπεὶ δὴ Ζηνὸς ἐπέκλυεν ἀγγελιάων.\nτὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ ἀκτῆς εὗρε καθήμενον· οὐδέ ποτʼ ὄσσε\nδακρυόφιν τέρσοντο, κατείβετο δὲ γλυκὺς αἰὼν\nνόστον ὀδυρομένῳ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι ἥνδανε νύμφη.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι νύκτας μὲν ἰαύεσκεν καὶ ἀνάγκῃ\nἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι παρʼ οὐκ ἐθέλων ἐθελούσῃ·\nἤματα δʼ ἂμ πέτρῃσι καὶ ἠιόνεσσι καθίζων\nδάκρυσι καὶ στοναχῇσι καὶ ἄλγεσι θυμὸν ἐρέχθων\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον δερκέσκετο δάκρυα λείβων.\nἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱσταμένη προσεφώνεε δῖα θεάων·\nκάμμορε, μή μοι ἔτʼ ἐνθάδʼ ὀδύρεο, μηδέ τοι αἰὼν\nφθινέτω· ἤδη γάρ σε μάλα πρόφρασσʼ ἀποπέμψω.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε δούρατα μακρὰ ταμὼν ἁρμόζεο χαλκῷ\nεὐρεῖαν σχεδίην· ἀτὰρ ἴκρια πῆξαι ἐπʼ αὐτῆς\nὑψοῦ, ὥς σε φέρῃσιν ἐπʼ ἠεροειδέα πόντον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σῖτον καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ οἶνον ἐρυθρὸν\nἐνθήσω μενοεικέʼ, ἅ κέν τοι λιμὸν ἐρύκοι,\nεἵματά τʼ ἀμφιέσω· πέμψω δέ τοι οὖρον ὄπισθεν,\nὥς κε μάλʼ ἀσκηθὴς σὴν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηαι,\nαἴ κε θεοί γʼ ἐθέλωσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,\nοἵ μευ φέρτεροί εἰσι νοῆσαί τε κρῆναί τε.\nὣς φάτο, ῥίγησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἄλλο τι δὴ σύ, θεά, τόδε μήδεαι, οὐδέ τι πομπήν,\nἥ με κέλεαι σχεδίῃ περάαν μέγα λαῖτμα θαλάσσης,\nδεινόν τʼ ἀργαλέον τε· τὸ δʼ οὐδʼ ἐπὶ νῆες ἐῖσαι\nὠκύποροι περόωσιν, ἀγαλλόμεναι Διὸς οὔρῳ.\nοὐδʼ ἂν ἐγὼν ἀέκητι σέθεν σχεδίης ἐπιβαίην,\nεἰ μή μοι τλαίης γε, θεά, μέγαν ὅρκον ὀμόσσαι\nμή τί μοι αὐτῷ πῆμα κακὸν βουλευσέμεν ἄλλο.\nὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ Καλυψὼ δῖα θεάων,\nχειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nἦ δὴ ἀλιτρός γʼ ἐσσὶ καὶ οὐκ ἀποφώλια εἰδώς,\nοἷον δὴ τὸν μῦθον ἐπεφράσθης ἀγορεῦσαι.\nἴστω νῦν τόδε γαῖα καὶ οὐρανὸς εὐρὺς ὕπερθε\nκαὶ τὸ κατειβόμενον Στυγὸς ὕδωρ, ὅς τε μέγιστος\nὅρκος δεινότατός τε πέλει μακάρεσσι θεοῖσι,\nμή τί τοι αὐτῷ πῆμα κακὸν βουλευσέμεν ἄλλο.\nἀλλὰ τὰ μὲν νοέω καὶ φράσσομαι, ἅσσʼ ἂν ἐμοί περ\nαὐτῇ μηδοίμην, ὅτε με χρειὼ τόσον ἵκοι·\nκαὶ γὰρ ἐμοὶ νόος ἐστὶν ἐναίσιμος, οὐδέ μοι αὐτῇ\nθυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι σιδήρεος, ἀλλʼ ἐλεήμων.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἡγήσατο δῖα θεάων\nκαρπαλίμως· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα μετʼ ἴχνια βαῖνε θεοῖο.\nἷξον δὲ σπεῖος γλαφυρὸν θεὸς ἠδὲ καὶ ἀνήρ,\nκαί ῥʼ ὁ μὲν ἔνθα καθέζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη\nἙρμείας, νύμφη δʼ ἐτίθει πάρα πᾶσαν ἐδωδήν,\nἔσθειν καὶ πίνειν, οἷα βροτοὶ ἄνδρες ἔδουσιν·\nαὐτὴ δʼ ἀντίον ἷζεν Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,\nτῇ δὲ παρʼ ἀμβροσίην δμῳαὶ καὶ νέκταρ ἔθηκαν.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τάρπησαν ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,\nτοῖς ἄρα μύθων ἦρχε Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nοὕτω δὴ οἶκόνδε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν\nαὐτίκα νῦν ἐθέλεις ἰέναι; σὺ δὲ χαῖρε καὶ ἔμπης.\nεἴ γε μὲν εἰδείης σῇσι φρεσὶν ὅσσα τοι αἶσα\nκήδεʼ ἀναπλῆσαι, πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι,\nἐνθάδε κʼ αὖθι μένων σὺν ἐμοὶ τόδε δῶμα φυλάσσοις\nἀθάνατός τʼ εἴης, ἱμειρόμενός περ ἰδέσθαι\nσὴν ἄλοχον, τῆς τʼ αἰὲν ἐέλδεαι ἤματα πάντα.\nοὐ μέν θην κείνης γε χερείων εὔχομαι εἶναι,\nοὐ δέμας οὐδὲ φυήν, ἐπεὶ οὔ πως οὐδὲ ἔοικεν\nθνητὰς ἀθανάτῃσι δέμας καὶ εἶδος ἐρίζειν.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nπότνα θεά, μή μοι τόδε χώεο· οἶδα καὶ αὐτὸς\nπάντα μάλʼ, οὕνεκα σεῖο περίφρων Πηνελόπεια\nεἶδος ἀκιδνοτέρη μέγεθός τʼ εἰσάντα ἰδέσθαι·\nἡ μὲν γὰρ βροτός ἐστι, σὺ δʼ ἀθάνατος καὶ ἀγήρως.\nἀλλὰ καὶ ὣς ἐθέλω καὶ ἐέλδομαι ἤματα πάντα\nοἴκαδέ τʼ ἐλθέμεναι καὶ νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἰδέσθαι.\nεἰ δʼ αὖ τις ῥαίῃσι θεῶν ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ,\nτλήσομαι ἐν στήθεσσιν ἔχων ταλαπενθέα θυμόν·\nἤδη γὰρ μάλα πολλὰ πάθον καὶ πολλὰ μόγησα\nκύμασι καὶ πολέμῳ· μετὰ καὶ τόδε τοῖσι γενέσθω.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, ἠέλιος δʼ ἄρʼ ἔδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθεν·\nἐλθόντες δʼ ἄρα τώ γε μυχῷ σπείους γλαφυροῖο\nτερπέσθην φιλότητι, παρʼ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντες.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nαὐτίχʼ ὁ μὲν χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε ἕννυτʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nαὐτὴ δʼ ἀργύφεον φᾶρος μέγα ἕννυτο νύμφη,\nλεπτὸν καὶ χαρίεν, περὶ δὲ ζώνην βάλετʼ ἰξυῖ\nκαλὴν χρυσείην, κεφαλῇ δʼ ἐφύπερθε καλύπτρην.\nκαὶ τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆι μεγαλήτορι μήδετο πομπήν·\nδῶκέν οἱ πέλεκυν μέγαν, ἄρμενον ἐν παλάμῃσι,\nχάλκεον, ἀμφοτέρωθεν ἀκαχμένον· αὐτὰρ ἐν αὐτῷ\nστειλειὸν περικαλλὲς ἐλάινον, εὖ ἐναρηρός·\nδῶκε δʼ ἔπειτα σκέπαρνον ἐύξοον· ἦρχε δʼ ὁδοῖο\nνήσου ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῆς, ὅθι δένδρεα μακρὰ πεφύκει,\nκλήθρη τʼ αἴγειρός τʼ, ἐλάτη τʼ ἦν οὐρανομήκης,\nαὖα πάλαι, περίκηλα, τά οἱ πλώοιεν ἐλαφρῶς.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ δεῖξʼ, ὅθι δένδρεα μακρὰ πεφύκει,\nἡ μὲν ἔβη πρὸς δῶμα Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,\nαὐτὰρ ὁ τάμνετο δοῦρα· θοῶς δέ οἱ ἤνυτο ἔργον.\nεἴκοσι δʼ ἔκβαλε πάντα, πελέκκησεν δʼ ἄρα χαλκῷ,\nξέσσε δʼ ἐπισταμένως καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνεν.\nτόφρα δʼ ἔνεικε τέρετρα Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων·\nτέτρηνεν δʼ ἄρα πάντα καὶ ἥρμοσεν ἀλλήλοισιν,\nγόμφοισιν δʼ ἄρα τήν γε καὶ ἁρμονίῃσιν ἄρασσεν.\nὅσσον τίς τʼ ἔδαφος νηὸς τορνώσεται ἀνὴρ\nφορτίδος εὐρείης, ἐὺ εἰδὼς τεκτοσυνάων,\nτόσσον ἔπʼ εὐρεῖαν σχεδίην ποιήσατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.\nἴκρια δὲ στήσας, ἀραρὼν θαμέσι σταμίνεσσι,\nποίει· ἀτὰρ μακρῇσιν ἐπηγκενίδεσσι τελεύτα.\nἐν δʼ ἱστὸν ποίει καὶ ἐπίκριον ἄρμενον αὐτῷ·\nπρὸς δʼ ἄρα πηδάλιον ποιήσατο, ὄφρʼ ἰθύνοι.\nφράξε δέ μιν ῥίπεσσι διαμπερὲς οἰσυΐνῃσι\nκύματος εἶλαρ ἔμεν· πολλὴν δʼ ἐπεχεύατο ὕλην.\nτόφρα δὲ φάρεʼ ἔνεικε Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,\nἱστία ποιήσασθαι· ὁ δʼ εὖ τεχνήσατο καὶ τά.\nἐν δʼ ὑπέρας τε κάλους τε πόδας τʼ ἐνέδησεν ἐν αὐτῇ,\nμοχλοῖσιν δʼ ἄρα τήν γε κατείρυσεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν.\nτέτρατον ἦμαρ ἔην, καὶ τῷ τετέλεστο ἅπαντα·\nτῷ δʼ ἄρα πέμπτῳ πέμπʼ ἀπὸ νήσου δῖα Καλυψώ,\nεἵματά τʼ ἀμφιέσασα θυώδεα καὶ λούσασα.\nἐν δέ οἱ ἀσκὸν ἔθηκε θεὰ μέλανος οἴνοιο\nτὸν ἕτερον, ἕτερον δʼ ὕδατος μέγαν, ἐν δὲ καὶ ᾖα\nκωρύκῳ· ἐν δέ οἱ ὄψα τίθει μενοεικέα πολλά·\nοὖρον δὲ προέηκεν ἀπήμονά τε λιαρόν τε.\nγηθόσυνος δʼ οὔρῳ πέτασʼ ἱστία δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ πηδαλίῳ ἰθύνετο τεχνηέντως\nἥμενος, οὐδέ οἱ ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔπιπτεν\nΠληιάδας τʼ ἐσορῶντι καὶ ὀψὲ δύοντα Βοώτην\nἌρκτον θʼ, ἣν καὶ ἄμαξαν ἐπίκλησιν καλέουσιν,\nἥ τʼ αὐτοῦ στρέφεται καί τʼ Ὠρίωνα δοκεύει,\nοἴη δʼ ἄμμορός ἐστι λοετρῶν Ὠκεανοῖο·\nτὴν γὰρ δή μιν ἄνωγε Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,\nποντοπορευέμεναι ἐπʼ ἀριστερὰ χειρὸς ἔχοντα.\nἑπτὰ δὲ καὶ δέκα μὲν πλέεν ἤματα ποντοπορεύων,\nὀκτωκαιδεκάτῃ δʼ ἐφάνη ὄρεα σκιόεντα\nγαίης Φαιήκων, ὅθι τʼ ἄγχιστον πέλεν αὐτῷ·\nεἴσατο δʼ ὡς ὅτε ῥινὸν ἐν ἠεροειδέι πόντῳ.\nτὸν δʼ ἐξ Αἰθιόπων ἀνιὼν κρείων ἐνοσίχθων\nτηλόθεν ἐκ Σολύμων ὀρέων ἴδεν· εἴσατο γάρ οἱ\nπόντον ἐπιπλώων. ὁ δʼ ἐχώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,\nκινήσας δὲ κάρη προτὶ ὃν μυθήσατο θυμόν·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ μετεβούλευσαν θεοὶ ἄλλως\nἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆι ἐμεῖο μετʼ Αἰθιόπεσσιν ἐόντος,\nκαὶ δὴ Φαιήκων γαίης σχεδόν, ἔνθα οἱ αἶσα\nἐκφυγέειν μέγα πεῖραρ ὀιζύος, ἥ μιν ἱκάνει.\nἀλλʼ ἔτι μέν μίν φημι ἅδην ἐλάαν κακότητος.\nὣς εἰπὼν σύναγεν νεφέλας, ἐτάραξε δὲ πόντον\nχερσὶ τρίαιναν ἑλών· πάσας δʼ ὀρόθυνεν ἀέλλας\nπαντοίων ἀνέμων, σὺν δὲ νεφέεσσι κάλυψε\nγαῖαν ὁμοῦ καὶ πόντον· ὀρώρει δʼ οὐρανόθεν νύξ.\nσὺν δʼ Εὖρός τε Νότος τʼ ἔπεσον Ζέφυρός τε δυσαὴς\nκαὶ Βορέης αἰθρηγενέτης, μέγα κῦμα κυλίνδων.\nκαὶ τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆος λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,\nὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·\nὤ μοι ἐγὼ δειλός, τί νύ μοι μήκιστα γένηται;\nδείδω μὴ δὴ πάντα θεὰ νημερτέα εἶπεν,\nἥ μʼ ἔφατʼ ἐν πόντῳ, πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι,\nἄλγεʼ ἀναπλήσειν· τὰ δὲ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.\nοἵοισιν νεφέεσσι περιστέφει οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν\nΖεύς, ἐτάραξε δὲ πόντον, ἐπισπέρχουσι δʼ ἄελλαι\nπαντοίων ἀνέμων. νῦν μοι σῶς αἰπὺς ὄλεθρος.\nτρὶς μάκαρες Δαναοὶ καὶ τετράκις, οἳ τότʼ ὄλοντο\nΤροίῃ ἐν εὐρείῃ χάριν Ἀτρεΐδῃσι φέροντες.\nὡς δὴ ἐγώ γʼ ὄφελον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν\nἤματι τῷ ὅτε μοι πλεῖστοι χαλκήρεα δοῦρα\nΤρῶες ἐπέρριψαν περὶ Πηλεΐωνι θανόντι.\nτῷ κʼ ἔλαχον κτερέων, καί μευ κλέος ἦγον Ἀχαιοί·\nνῦν δέ με λευγαλέῳ θανάτῳ εἵμαρτο ἁλῶναι.\nὣς ἄρα μιν εἰπόντʼ ἔλασεν μέγα κῦμα κατʼ ἄκρης\nδεινὸν ἐπεσσύμενον, περὶ δὲ σχεδίην ἐλέλιξε.\nτῆλε δʼ ἀπὸ σχεδίης αὐτὸς πέσε, πηδάλιον δὲ\nἐκ χειρῶν προέηκε· μέσον δέ οἱ ἱστὸν ἔαξεν\nδεινὴ μισγομένων ἀνέμων ἐλθοῦσα θύελλα,\nτηλοῦ δὲ σπεῖρον καὶ ἐπίκριον ἔμπεσε πόντῳ.\nτὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόβρυχα θῆκε πολὺν χρόνον, οὐδʼ ἐδυνάσθη\nαἶψα μάλʼ ἀνσχεθέειν μεγάλου ὑπὸ κύματος ὁρμῆς·\nεἵματα γάρ ῥʼ ἐβάρυνε, τά οἱ πόρε δῖα Καλυψώ.\nὀψὲ δὲ δή ῥʼ ἀνέδυ, στόματος δʼ ἐξέπτυσεν ἅλμην\nπικρήν, ἥ οἱ πολλὴ ἀπὸ κρατὸς κελάρυζεν.\nἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς σχεδίης ἐπελήθετο, τειρόμενός περ,\nἀλλὰ μεθορμηθεὶς ἐνὶ κύμασιν ἐλλάβετʼ αὐτῆς,\nἐν μέσσῃ δὲ καθῖζε τέλος θανάτου ἀλεείνων.\nτὴν δʼ ἐφόρει μέγα κῦμα κατὰ ῥόον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα.\nὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ὀπωρινὸς Βορέης φορέῃσιν ἀκάνθας\nἂμ πεδίον, πυκιναὶ δὲ πρὸς ἀλλήλῃσιν ἔχονται,\nὣς τὴν ἂμ πέλαγος ἄνεμοι φέρον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα·\nἄλλοτε μέν τε Νότος Βορέῃ προβάλεσκε φέρεσθαι,\nἄλλοτε δʼ αὖτʼ Εὖρος Ζεφύρῳ εἴξασκε διώκειν.\nτὸν δὲ ἴδεν Κάδμου θυγάτηρ, καλλίσφυρος Ἰνώ,\nΛευκοθέη, ἣ πρὶν μὲν ἔην βροτὸς αὐδήεσσα,\nνῦν δʼ ἁλὸς ἐν πελάγεσσι θεῶν ἒξ ἔμμορε τιμῆς.\nἥ ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐλέησεν ἀλώμενον, ἄλγεʼ ἔχοντα,\nαἰθυίῃ δʼ ἐικυῖα ποτῇ ἀνεδύσετο λίμνης,\nἷζε δʼ ἐπὶ σχεδίης πολυδέσμου εἶπέ τε μῦθον·\nκάμμορε, τίπτε τοι ὧδε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων\nὠδύσατʼ ἐκπάγλως, ὅτι τοι κακὰ πολλὰ φυτεύει;\nοὐ μὲν δή σε καταφθίσει μάλα περ μενεαίνων.\nἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὧδʼ ἔρξαι, δοκέεις δέ μοι οὐκ ἀπινύσσειν·\nεἵματα ταῦτʼ ἀποδὺς σχεδίην ἀνέμοισι φέρεσθαι\nκάλλιπʼ, ἀτὰρ χείρεσσι νέων ἐπιμαίεο νόστου\nγαίης Φαιήκων, ὅθι τοι μοῖρʼ ἐστὶν ἀλύξαι.\nτῆ δέ, τόδε κρήδεμνον ὑπὸ στέρνοιο τανύσσαι\nἄμβροτον· οὐδέ τί τοι παθέειν δέος οὐδʼ ἀπολέσθαι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν χείρεσσιν ἐφάψεαι ἠπείροιο,\nἂψ ἀπολυσάμενος βαλέειν εἰς οἴνοπα πόντον\nπολλὸν ἀπʼ ἠπείρου, αὐτὸς δʼ ἀπονόσφι τραπέσθαι.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσασα θεὰ κρήδεμνον ἔδωκεν,\nαὐτὴ δʼ ἂψ ἐς πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα\nαἰθυίῃ ἐικυῖα· μέλαν δέ ἑ κῦμα κάλυψεν.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ μερμήριξε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·\nὤ μοι ἐγώ, μή τίς μοι ὑφαίνῃσιν δόλον αὖτε\nἀθανάτων, ὅ τέ με σχεδίης ἀποβῆναι ἀνώγει.\nἀλλὰ μάλʼ οὔ πω πείσομʼ, ἐπεὶ ἑκὰς ὀφθαλμοῖσιν\nγαῖαν ἐγὼν ἰδόμην, ὅθι μοι φάτο φύξιμον εἶναι.\nἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὧδʼ ἔρξω, δοκέει δέ μοι εἶναι ἄριστον·\nὄφρʼ ἂν μέν κεν δούρατʼ ἐν ἁρμονίῃσιν ἀρήρῃ,\nτόφρʼ αὐτοῦ μενέω καὶ τλήσομαι ἄλγεα πάσχων·\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δή μοι σχεδίην διὰ κῦμα τινάξῃ,\nνήξομʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐ μέν τι πάρα προνοῆσαι ἄμεινον.\nἧος ὁ ταῦθʼ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,\nὦρσε δʼ ἐπὶ μέγα κῦμα Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,\nδεινόν τʼ ἀργαλέον τε, κατηρεφές, ἤλασε δʼ αὐτόν.\nὡς δʼ ἄνεμος ζαὴς ἠΐων θημῶνα τινάξῃ\nκαρφαλέων· τὰ μὲν ἄρ τε διεσκέδασʼ ἄλλυδις ἄλλῃ·\nὣς τῆς δούρατα μακρὰ διεσκέδασʼ. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἀμφʼ ἑνὶ δούρατι βαῖνε, κέληθʼ ὡς ἵππον ἐλαύνων,\nεἵματα δʼ ἐξαπέδυνε, τά οἱ πόρε δῖα Καλυψώ.\nαὐτίκα δὲ κρήδεμνον ὑπὸ στέρνοιο τάνυσσεν,\nαὐτὸς δὲ πρηνὴς ἁλὶ κάππεσε, χεῖρε πετάσσας,\nνηχέμεναι μεμαώς. ἴδε δὲ κρείων ἐνοσίχθων,\nκινήσας δὲ κάρη προτὶ ὃν μυθήσατο θυμόν·\nοὕτω νῦν κακὰ πολλὰ παθὼν ἀλόω κατὰ πόντον,\nεἰς ὅ κεν ἀνθρώποισι διοτρεφέεσσι μιγήῃς.\nἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὥς σε ἔολπα ὀνόσσεσθαι κακότητος.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἵμασεν καλλίτριχας ἵππους,\nἵκετο δʼ εἰς Αἰγάς, ὅθι οἱ κλυτὰ δώματʼ ἔασιν.\nαὐτὰρ Ἀθηναίη κούρη Διὸς ἄλλʼ ἐνόησεν.\nἦ τοι τῶν ἄλλων ἀνέμων κατέδησε κελεύθους,\nπαύσασθαι δʼ ἐκέλευσε καὶ εὐνηθῆναι ἅπαντας·\nὦρσε δʼ ἐπὶ κραιπνὸν Βορέην, πρὸ δὲ κύματʼ ἔαξεν,\nἧος ὃ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μιγείη\nδιογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξας.\nἔνθα δύω νύκτας δύο τʼ ἤματα κύματι πηγῷ\nπλάζετο, πολλὰ δέ οἱ κραδίη προτιόσσετʼ ὄλεθρον.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τρίτον ἦμαρ ἐυπλόκαμος τέλεσʼ Ἠώς,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἔπειτʼ ἄνεμος μὲν ἐπαύσατο ἠδὲ γαλήνη\nἔπλετο νηνεμίη· ὁ δʼ ἄρα σχεδὸν εἴσιδε γαῖαν\nὀξὺ μάλα προϊδών, μεγάλου ὑπὸ κύματος ἀρθείς.\nὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἀσπάσιος βίοτος παίδεσσι φανήῃ\nπατρός, ὃς ἐν νούσῳ κεῖται κρατέρʼ ἄλγεα πάσχων,\nδηρὸν τηκόμενος, στυγερὸς δέ οἱ ἔχραε δαίμων,\nἀσπάσιον δʼ ἄρα τόν γε θεοὶ κακότητος ἔλυσαν,\nὣς Ὀδυσεῖ ἀσπαστὸν ἐείσατο γαῖα καὶ ὕλη,\nνῆχε δʼ ἐπειγόμενος ποσὶν ἠπείρου ἐπιβῆναι.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε τόσσον ἀπῆν ὅσσον τε γέγωνε βοήσας,\nκαὶ δὴ δοῦπον ἄκουσε ποτὶ σπιλάδεσσι θαλάσσης·\nῥόχθει γὰρ μέγα κῦμα ποτὶ ξερὸν ἠπείροιο\nδεινὸν ἐρευγόμενον, εἴλυτο δὲ πάνθʼ ἁλὸς ἄχνῃ·\nοὐ γὰρ ἔσαν λιμένες νηῶν ὄχοι, οὐδʼ ἐπιωγαί.\nἀλλʼ ἀκταὶ προβλῆτες ἔσαν σπιλάδες τε πάγοι τε·\nκαὶ τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆος λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,\nὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·\nὤ μοι, ἐπεὶ δὴ γαῖαν ἀελπέα δῶκεν ἰδέσθαι\nΖεύς, καὶ δὴ τόδε λαῖτμα διατμήξας ἐπέρησα,\nἔκβασις οὔ πῃ φαίνεθʼ ἁλὸς πολιοῖο θύραζε·\nἔκτοσθεν μὲν γὰρ πάγοι ὀξέες, ἀμφὶ δὲ κῦμα\nβέβρυχεν ῥόθιον, λισσὴ δʼ ἀναδέδρομε πέτρη,\nἀγχιβαθὴς δὲ θάλασσα, καὶ οὔ πως ἔστι πόδεσσι\nστήμεναι ἀμφοτέροισι καὶ ἐκφυγέειν κακότητα·\nμή πώς μʼ ἐκβαίνοντα βάλῃ λίθακι ποτὶ πέτρῃ\nκῦμα μέγʼ ἁρπάξαν· μελέη δέ μοι ἔσσεται ὁρμή.\nεἰ δέ κʼ ἔτι προτέρω παρανήξομαι, ἤν που ἐφεύρω\nἠιόνας τε παραπλῆγας λιμένας τε θαλάσσης,\nδείδω μή μʼ ἐξαῦτις ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα φέρῃ βαρέα στενάχοντα,\nἠέ τί μοι καὶ κῆτος ἐπισσεύῃ μέγα δαίμων\nἐξ ἁλός, οἷά τε πολλὰ τρέφει κλυτὸς Ἀμφιτρίτη·\nοἶδα γάρ, ὥς μοι ὀδώδυσται κλυτὸς ἐννοσίγαιος.\nἧος ὁ ταῦθʼ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,\nτόφρα δέ μιν μέγα κῦμα φέρε τρηχεῖαν ἐπʼ ἀκτήν.\nἔνθα κʼ ἀπὸ ῥινοὺς δρύφθη, σὺν δʼ ὀστέʼ ἀράχθη,\nεἰ μὴ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nἀμφοτέρῃσι δὲ χερσὶν ἐπεσσύμενος λάβε πέτρης,\nτῆς ἔχετο στενάχων, ἧος μέγα κῦμα παρῆλθε.\nκαὶ τὸ μὲν ὣς ὑπάλυξε, παλιρρόθιον δέ μιν αὖτις\nπλῆξεν ἐπεσσύμενον, τηλοῦ δέ μιν ἔμβαλε πόντῳ.\nὡς δʼ ὅτε πουλύποδος θαλάμης ἐξελκομένοιο\nπρὸς κοτυληδονόφιν πυκιναὶ λάιγγες ἔχονται,\nὣς τοῦ πρὸς πέτρῃσι θρασειάων ἀπὸ χειρῶν\nῥινοὶ ἀπέδρυφθεν· τὸν δὲ μέγα κῦμα κάλυψεν.\nἔνθα κε δὴ δύστηνος ὑπὲρ μόρον ὤλετʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nεἰ μὴ ἐπιφροσύνην δῶκε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.\nκύματος ἐξαναδύς, τά τʼ ἐρεύγεται ἤπειρόνδε,\nνῆχε παρέξ, ἐς γαῖαν ὁρώμενος, εἴ που ἐφεύροι\nἠιόνας τε παραπλῆγας λιμένας τε θαλάσσης.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ποταμοῖο κατὰ στόμα καλλιρόοιο\nἷξε νέων, τῇ δή οἱ ἐείσατο χῶρος ἄριστος,\nλεῖος πετράων, καὶ ἐπὶ σκέπας ἦν ἀνέμοιο,\nἔγνω δὲ προρέοντα καὶ εὔξατο ὃν κατὰ θυμόν·\nκλῦθι, ἄναξ, ὅτις ἐσσί· πολύλλιστον δέ σʼ ἱκάνω,\nφεύγων ἐκ πόντοιο Ποσειδάωνος ἐνιπάς.\nαἰδοῖος μέν τʼ ἐστὶ καὶ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν\nἀνδρῶν ὅς τις ἵκηται ἀλώμενος, ὡς καὶ ἐγὼ νῦν\nσόν τε ῥόον σά τε γούναθʼ ἱκάνω πολλὰ μογήσας.\nἀλλʼ ἐλέαιρε, ἄναξ· ἱκέτης δέ τοι εὔχομαι εἶναι.\nὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αὐτίκα παῦσεν ἑὸν ῥόον, ἔσχε δὲ κῦμα,\nπρόσθε δέ οἱ ποίησε γαλήνην, τὸν δʼ ἐσάωσεν\nἐς ποταμοῦ προχοάς. ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ ἄμφω γούνατʼ ἔκαμψε\nχεῖράς τε στιβαράς. ἁλὶ γὰρ δέδμητο φίλον κῆρ.\nᾤδεε δὲ χρόα πάντα, θάλασσα δὲ κήκιε πολλὴ\nἂν στόμα τε ῥῖνάς θʼ· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ ἄπνευστος καὶ ἄναυδος\nκεῖτʼ ὀλιγηπελέων, κάματος δέ μιν αἰνὸς ἵκανεν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἄμπνυτο καὶ ἐς φρένα θυμὸς ἀγέρθη,\nκαὶ τότε δὴ κρήδεμνον ἀπὸ ἕο λῦσε θεοῖο.\nκαὶ τὸ μὲν ἐς ποταμὸν ἁλιμυρήεντα μεθῆκεν,\nἂψ δʼ ἔφερεν μέγα κῦμα κατὰ ῥόον, αἶψα δʼ ἄρʼ Ἰνὼ\nδέξατο χερσὶ φίλῃσιν· ὁ δʼ ἐκ ποταμοῖο λιασθεὶς\nσχοίνῳ ὑπεκλίνθη, κύσε δὲ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.\nὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·\nὤ μοι ἐγώ, τί πάθω; τί νύ μοι μήκιστα γένηται;\nεἰ μέν κʼ ἐν ποταμῷ δυσκηδέα νύκτα φυλάσσω,\nμή μʼ ἄμυδις στίβη τε κακὴ καὶ θῆλυς ἐέρση\nἐξ ὀλιγηπελίης δαμάσῃ κεκαφηότα θυμόν·\nαὔρη δʼ ἐκ ποταμοῦ ψυχρὴ πνέει ἠῶθι πρό.\nεἰ δέ κεν ἐς κλιτὺν ἀναβὰς καὶ δάσκιον ὕλην\nθάμνοις ἐν πυκινοῖσι καταδράθω, εἴ με μεθείη\nῥῖγος καὶ κάματος, γλυκερὸς δέ μοι ὕπνος ἐπέλθῃ,\nδείδω, μὴ θήρεσσιν ἕλωρ καὶ κύρμα γένωμαι.\nὣς ἄρα οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι·\nβῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν εἰς ὕλην· τὴν δὲ σχεδὸν ὕδατος εὗρεν\nἐν περιφαινομένῳ· δοιοὺς δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπήλυθε θάμνους,\nἐξ ὁμόθεν πεφυῶτας· ὁ μὲν φυλίης, ὁ δʼ ἐλαίης.\nτοὺς μὲν ἄρʼ οὔτʼ ἀνέμων διάη μένος ὑγρὸν ἀέντων,\nοὔτε ποτʼ ἠέλιος φαέθων ἀκτῖσιν ἔβαλλεν,\nοὔτʼ ὄμβρος περάασκε διαμπερές· ὣς ἄρα πυκνοὶ\nἀλλήλοισιν ἔφυν ἐπαμοιβαδίς· οὓς ὑπʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nδύσετʼ. ἄφαρ δʼ εὐνὴν ἐπαμήσατο χερσὶ φίλῃσιν\nεὐρεῖαν· φύλλων γὰρ ἔην χύσις ἤλιθα πολλή,\nὅσσον τʼ ἠὲ δύω ἠὲ τρεῖς ἄνδρας ἔρυσθαι\nὥρῃ χειμερίῃ, εἰ καὶ μάλα περ χαλεπαίνοι.\nτὴν μὲν ἰδὼν γήθησε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἐν δʼ ἄρα μέσσῃ λέκτο, χύσιν δʼ ἐπεχεύατο φύλλων.\nὡς δʼ ὅτε τις δαλὸν σποδιῇ ἐνέκρυψε μελαίνῃ\nἀγροῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῆς, ᾧ μὴ πάρα γείτονες ἄλλοι,\nσπέρμα πυρὸς σώζων, ἵνα μή ποθεν ἄλλοθεν αὔοι,\nὣς Ὀδυσεὺς φύλλοισι καλύψατο· τῷ δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀθήνη\nὕπνον ἐπʼ ὄμμασι χεῦʼ, ἵνα μιν παύσειε τάχιστα\nδυσπονέος καμάτοιο φίλα βλέφαρʼ ἀμφικαλύψας.\n\n### Book 6\n\nὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθα καθεῦδε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nὕπνῳ καὶ καμάτῳ ἀρημένος· αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη\nβῆ ῥʼ ἐς Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν δῆμόν τε πόλιν τε,\nοἳ πρὶν μέν ποτʼ ἔναιον ἐν εὐρυχόρῳ Ὑπερείῃ,\nἀγχοῦ Κυκλώπων ἀνδρῶν ὑπερηνορεόντων,\nοἵ σφεας σινέσκοντο, βίηφι δὲ φέρτεροι ἦσαν.\nἔνθεν ἀναστήσας ἄγε Ναυσίθοος θεοειδής,\nεἷσεν δὲ Σχερίῃ, ἑκὰς ἀνδρῶν ἀλφηστάων,\nἀμφὶ δὲ τεῖχος ἔλασσε πόλει, καὶ ἐδείματο οἴκους,\nκαὶ νηοὺς ποίησε θεῶν, καὶ ἐδάσσατʼ ἀρούρας.\nἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἤδη κηρὶ δαμεὶς Ἄϊδόσδε βεβήκει,\nἈλκίνοος δὲ τότʼ ἦρχε, θεῶν ἄπο μήδεα εἰδώς.\nτοῦ μὲν ἔβη πρὸς δῶμα θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,\nνόστον Ὀδυσσῆι μεγαλήτορι μητιόωσα.\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐς θάλαμον πολυδαίδαλον, ᾧ ἔνι κούρη\nκοιμᾶτʼ ἀθανάτῃσι φυὴν καὶ εἶδος ὁμοίη,\nΝαυσικάα, θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nπὰρ δὲ δύʼ ἀμφίπολοι, Χαρίτων ἄπο κάλλος ἔχουσαι,\nσταθμοῖιν ἑκάτερθε· θύραι δʼ ἐπέκειντο φαειναί.\nἡ δʼ ἀνέμου ὡς πνοιὴ ἐπέσσυτο δέμνια κούρης,\nστῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν,\nεἰδομένη κούρῃ ναυσικλειτοῖο Δύμαντος,\nἥ οἱ ὁμηλικίη μὲν ἔην, κεχάριστο δὲ θυμῷ.\nτῇ μιν ἐεισαμένη προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nΝαυσικάα, τί νύ σʼ ὧδε μεθήμονα γείνατο μήτηρ;\nεἵματα μέν τοι κεῖται ἀκηδέα σιγαλόεντα,\nσοὶ δὲ γάμος σχεδόν ἐστιν, ἵνα χρὴ καλὰ μὲν αὐτὴν\nἕννυσθαι, τὰ δὲ τοῖσι παρασχεῖν, οἵ κέ σʼ ἄγωνται.\nἐκ γάρ τοι τούτων φάτις ἀνθρώπους ἀναβαίνει\nἐσθλή, χαίρουσιν δὲ πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ.\nἀλλʼ ἴομεν πλυνέουσαι ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφι·\nκαί τοι ἐγὼ συνέριθος ἅμʼ ἕψομαι, ὄφρα τάχιστα\nἐντύνεαι, ἐπεὶ οὔ τοι ἔτι δὴν παρθένος ἔσσεαι·\nἤδη γάρ σε μνῶνται ἀριστῆες κατὰ δῆμον\nπάντων Φαιήκων, ὅθι τοι γένος ἐστὶ καὶ αὐτῇ.\nἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ἐπότρυνον πατέρα κλυτὸν ἠῶθι πρὸ\nἡμιόνους καὶ ἄμαξαν ἐφοπλίσαι, ἥ κεν ἄγῃσι\nζῶστρά τε καὶ πέπλους καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα.\nκαὶ δὲ σοὶ ὧδʼ αὐτῇ πολὺ κάλλιον ἠὲ πόδεσσιν\nἔρχεσθαι· πολλὸν γὰρ ἀπὸ πλυνοί εἰσι πόληος.\nἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη\nΟὔλυμπόνδʼ, ὅθι φασὶ θεῶν ἕδος ἀσφαλὲς αἰεὶ\nἔμμεναι. οὔτʼ ἀνέμοισι τινάσσεται οὔτε ποτʼ ὄμβρῳ\nδεύεται οὔτε χιὼν ἐπιπίλναται, ἀλλὰ μάλʼ αἴθρη\nπέπταται ἀνέφελος, λευκὴ δʼ ἐπιδέδρομεν αἴγλη·\nτῷ ἔνι τέρπονται μάκαρες θεοὶ ἤματα πάντα.\nἔνθʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις, ἐπεὶ διεπέφραδε κούρῃ.\nαὐτίκα δʼ Ἠὼς ἦλθεν ἐύθρονος, ἥ μιν ἔγειρε\nΝαυσικάαν ἐύπεπλον· ἄφαρ δʼ ἀπεθαύμασʼ ὄνειρον,\nβῆ δʼ ἰέναι διὰ δώμαθʼ, ἵνʼ ἀγγείλειε τοκεῦσιν,\nπατρὶ φίλῳ καὶ μητρί· κιχήσατο δʼ ἔνδον ἐόντας·\nἡ μὲν ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἧστο σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν\nἠλάκατα στρωφῶσʼ ἁλιπόρφυρα· τῷ δὲ θύραζε\nἐρχομένῳ ξύμβλητο μετὰ κλειτοὺς βασιλῆας\nἐς βουλήν, ἵνα μιν κάλεον Φαίηκες ἀγαυοί.\nἡ δὲ μάλʼ ἄγχι στᾶσα φίλον πατέρα προσέειπε·\nπάππα φίλʼ, οὐκ ἂν δή μοι ἐφοπλίσσειας ἀπήνην\nὑψηλὴν ἐύκυκλον, ἵνα κλυτὰ εἵματʼ ἄγωμαι\nἐς ποταμὸν πλυνέουσα, τά μοι ῥερυπωμένα κεῖται;\nκαὶ δὲ σοὶ αὐτῷ ἔοικε μετὰ πρώτοισιν ἐόντα\nβουλὰς βουλεύειν καθαρὰ χροΐ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα.\nπέντε δέ τοι φίλοι υἷες ἐνὶ μεγάροις γεγάασιν,\nοἱ δύʼ ὀπυίοντες, τρεῖς δʼ ἠίθεοι θαλέθοντες·\nοἱ δʼ αἰεὶ ἐθέλουσι νεόπλυτα εἵματʼ ἔχοντες\nἐς χορὸν ἔρχεσθαι· τὰ δʼ ἐμῇ φρενὶ πάντα μέμηλεν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ· αἴδετο γὰρ θαλερὸν γάμον ἐξονομῆναι\nπατρὶ φίλῳ. ὁ δὲ πάντα νόει καὶ ἀμείβετο μύθῳ·\nοὔτε τοι ἡμιόνων φθονέω, τέκος, οὔτε τευ ἄλλου.\nἔρχευ· ἀτάρ τοι δμῶες ἐφοπλίσσουσιν ἀπήνην\nὑψηλὴν ἐύκυκλον, ὑπερτερίῃ ἀραρυῖαν.\nὣς εἰπὼν δμώεσσιν ἐκέκλετο, τοὶ δʼ ἐπίθοντο.\nοἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐκτὸς ἄμαξαν ἐύτροχον ἡμιονείην\nὥπλεον, ἡμιόνους θʼ ὕπαγον ζεῦξάν θʼ ὑπʼ ἀπήνῃ·\nκούρη δʼ ἐκ θαλάμοιο φέρεν ἐσθῆτα φαεινήν.\nκαὶ τὴν μὲν κατέθηκεν ἐυξέστῳ ἐπʼ ἀπήνῃ,\nμήτηρ δʼ ἐν κίστῃ ἐτίθει μενοεικέʼ ἐδωδὴν\nπαντοίην, ἐν δʼ ὄψα τίθει, ἐν δʼ οἶνον ἔχευεν\nἀσκῷ ἐν αἰγείῳ· κούρη δʼ ἐπεβήσετʼ ἀπήνης.\nδῶκεν δὲ χρυσέῃ ἐν ληκύθῳ ὑγρὸν ἔλαιον,\nἧος χυτλώσαιτο σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξίν.\nἡ δʼ ἔλαβεν μάστιγα καὶ ἡνία σιγαλόεντα,\nμάστιξεν δʼ ἐλάαν· καναχὴ δʼ ἦν ἡμιόνοιιν.\nαἱ δʼ ἄμοτον τανύοντο, φέρον δʼ ἐσθῆτα καὶ αὐτήν,\nοὐκ οἴην, ἅμα τῇ γε καὶ ἀμφίπολοι κίον ἄλλαι.\nαἱ δʼ ὅτε δὴ ποταμοῖο ῥόον περικαλλέʼ ἵκοντο,\nἔνθʼ ἦ τοι πλυνοὶ ἦσαν ἐπηετανοί, πολὺ δʼ ὕδωρ\nκαλὸν ὑπεκπρόρεεν μάλα περ ῥυπόωντα καθῆραι,\nἔνθʼ αἵ γʼ ἡμιόνους μὲν ὑπεκπροέλυσαν ἀπήνης.\nκαὶ τὰς μὲν σεῦαν ποταμὸν πάρα δινήεντα\nτρώγειν ἄγρωστιν μελιηδέα· ταὶ δʼ ἀπʼ ἀπήνης\nεἵματα χερσὶν ἕλοντο καὶ ἐσφόρεον μέλαν ὕδωρ,\nστεῖβον δʼ ἐν βόθροισι θοῶς ἔριδα προφέρουσαι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πλῦνάν τε κάθηράν τε ῥύπα πάντα,\nἑξείης πέτασαν παρὰ θῖνʼ ἁλός, ἧχι μάλιστα\nλάιγγας ποτὶ χέρσον ἀποπλύνεσκε θάλασσα.\nαἱ δὲ λοεσσάμεναι καὶ χρισάμεναι λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ\nδεῖπνον ἔπειθʼ εἵλοντο παρʼ ὄχθῃσιν ποταμοῖο,\nεἵματα δʼ ἠελίοιο μένον τερσήμεναι αὐγῇ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σίτου τάρφθεν δμῳαί τε καὶ αὐτή,\nσφαίρῃ ταὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπαιζον, ἀπὸ κρήδεμνα βαλοῦσαι·\nτῇσι δὲ Ναυσικάα λευκώλενος ἤρχετο μολπῆς.\nοἵη δʼ Ἄρτεμις εἶσι κατʼ οὔρεα ἰοχέαιρα,\nἢ κατὰ Τηΰγετον περιμήκετον ἢ Ἐρύμανθον,\nτερπομένη κάπροισι καὶ ὠκείῃς ἐλάφοισι·\nτῇ δέ θʼ ἅμα νύμφαι, κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο,\nἀγρονόμοι παίζουσι, γέγηθε δέ τε φρένα Λητώ·\nπασάων δʼ ὑπὲρ ἥ γε κάρη ἔχει ἠδὲ μέτωπα,\nῥεῖά τʼ ἀριγνώτη πέλεται, καλαὶ δέ τε πᾶσαι·\nὣς ἥ γʼ ἀμφιπόλοισι μετέπρεπε παρθένος ἀδμής.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἄρʼ ἔμελλε πάλιν οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι\nζεύξασʼ ἡμιόνους πτύξασά τε εἵματα καλά,\nἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,\nὡς Ὀδυσεὺς ἔγροιτο, ἴδοι τʼ ἐυώπιδα κούρην,\nἥ οἱ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν πόλιν ἡγήσαιτο.\nσφαῖραν ἔπειτʼ ἔρριψε μετʼ ἀμφίπολον βασίλεια·\nἀμφιπόλου μὲν ἅμαρτε, βαθείῃ δʼ ἔμβαλε δίνῃ·\nαἱ δʼ ἐπὶ μακρὸν ἄυσαν· ὁ δʼ ἔγρετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἑζόμενος δʼ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν·\nὤ μοι ἐγώ, τέων αὖτε βροτῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἱκάνω;\nἦ ῥʼ οἵ γʼ ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,\nἦε φιλόξεινοι καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής;\nὥς τέ με κουράων ἀμφήλυθε θῆλυς ἀυτή·\nνυμφάων, αἳ ἔχουσʼ ὀρέων αἰπεινὰ κάρηνα\nκαὶ πηγὰς ποταμῶν καὶ πίσεα ποιήεντα.\nἦ νύ που ἀνθρώπων εἰμὶ σχεδὸν αὐδηέντων;\nἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ἐγὼν αὐτὸς πειρήσομαι ἠδὲ ἴδωμαι.\nὣς εἰπὼν θάμνων ὑπεδύσετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἐκ πυκινῆς δʼ ὕλης πτόρθον κλάσε χειρὶ παχείῃ\nφύλλων, ὡς ῥύσαιτο περὶ χροῒ μήδεα φωτός.\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν ὥς τε λέων ὀρεσίτροφος ἀλκὶ πεποιθώς,\nὅς τʼ εἶσʼ ὑόμενος καὶ ἀήμενος, ἐν δέ οἱ ὄσσε\nδαίεται· αὐτὰρ ὁ βουσὶ μετέρχεται ἢ ὀίεσσιν\nἠὲ μετʼ ἀγροτέρας ἐλάφους· κέλεται δέ ἑ γαστὴρ\nμήλων πειρήσοντα καὶ ἐς πυκινὸν δόμον ἐλθεῖν·\nὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κούρῃσιν ἐυπλοκάμοισιν ἔμελλε\nμίξεσθαι, γυμνός περ ἐών· χρειὼ γὰρ ἵκανε.\nσμερδαλέος δʼ αὐτῇσι φάνη κεκακωμένος ἅλμῃ,\nτρέσσαν δʼ ἄλλυδις ἄλλη ἐπʼ ἠιόνας προὐχούσας·\nοἴη δʼ Ἀλκινόου θυγάτηρ μένε· τῇ γὰρ Ἀθήνη\nθάρσος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε καὶ ἐκ δέος εἵλετο γυίων.\nστῆ δʼ ἄντα σχομένη· ὁ δὲ μερμήριξεν Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἢ γούνων λίσσοιτο λαβὼν ἐυώπιδα κούρην,\nἦ αὔτως ἐπέεσσιν ἀποσταδὰ μειλιχίοισι\nλίσσοιτʼ, εἰ δείξειε πόλιν καὶ εἵματα δοίη.\nὣς ἄρα οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,\nλίσσεσθαι ἐπέεσσιν ἀποσταδὰ μειλιχίοισι,\nμή οἱ γοῦνα λαβόντι χολώσαιτο φρένα κούρη.\nαὐτίκα μειλίχιον καὶ κερδαλέον φάτο μῦθον.\nγουνοῦμαί σε, ἄνασσα· θεός νύ τις, ἦ βροτός ἐσσι;\nεἰ μέν τις θεός ἐσσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,\nἈρτέμιδί σε ἐγώ γε, Διὸς κούρῃ μεγάλοιο,\nεἶδός τε μέγεθός τε φυήν τʼ ἄγχιστα ἐίσκω·\nεἰ δέ τίς ἐσσι βροτῶν, τοὶ ἐπὶ χθονὶ ναιετάουσιν,\nτρὶς μάκαρες μὲν σοί γε πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ,\nτρὶς μάκαρες δὲ κασίγνητοι· μάλα πού σφισι θυμὸς\nαἰὲν ἐυφροσύνῃσιν ἰαίνεται εἵνεκα σεῖο,\nλευσσόντων τοιόνδε θάλος χορὸν εἰσοιχνεῦσαν.\nκεῖνος δʼ αὖ περὶ κῆρι μακάρτατος ἔξοχον ἄλλων,\nὅς κέ σʼ ἐέδνοισι βρίσας οἶκόνδʼ ἀγάγηται.\nοὐ γάρ πω τοιοῦτον ἴδον βροτὸν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,\nοὔτʼ ἄνδρʼ οὔτε γυναῖκα· σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.\nΔήλῳ δή ποτε τοῖον Ἀπόλλωνος παρὰ βωμῷ\nφοίνικος νέον ἔρνος ἀνερχόμενον ἐνόησα·\nἦλθον γὰρ καὶ κεῖσε, πολὺς δέ μοι ἕσπετο λαός,\nτὴν ὁδὸν ᾗ δὴ μέλλεν ἐμοὶ κακὰ κήδεʼ ἔσεσθαι.\nὣς δʼ αὔτως καὶ κεῖνο ἰδὼν ἐτεθήπεα θυμῷ\nδήν, ἐπεὶ οὔ πω τοῖον ἀνήλυθεν ἐκ δόρυ γαίης,\nὡς σέ, γύναι, ἄγαμαί τε τέθηπά τε, δείδια δʼ αἰνῶς\nγούνων ἅψασθαι· χαλεπὸν δέ με πένθος ἱκάνει.\nχθιζὸς ἐεικοστῷ φύγον ἤματι οἴνοπα πόντον·\nτόφρα δέ μʼ αἰεὶ κῦμʼ ἐφόρει κραιπναί τε θύελλαι\nνήσου ἀπʼ Ὠγυγίης. νῦν δʼ ἐνθάδε κάββαλε δαίμων,\nὄφρʼ ἔτι που καὶ τῇδε πάθω κακόν· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω\nπαύσεσθʼ, ἀλλʼ ἔτι πολλὰ θεοὶ τελέουσι πάροιθεν.\nἀλλά, ἄνασσʼ, ἐλέαιρε· σὲ γὰρ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας\nἐς πρώτην ἱκόμην, τῶν δʼ ἄλλων οὔ τινα οἶδα\nἀνθρώπων, οἳ τήνδε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἔχουσιν.\nἄστυ δέ μοι δεῖξον, δὸς δὲ ῥάκος ἀμφιβαλέσθαι,\nεἴ τί που εἴλυμα σπείρων ἔχες ἐνθάδʼ ἰοῦσα.\nσοὶ δὲ θεοὶ τόσα δοῖεν ὅσα φρεσὶ σῇσι μενοινᾷς,\nἄνδρα τε καὶ οἶκον, καὶ ὁμοφροσύνην ὀπάσειαν\nἐσθλήν· οὐ μὲν γὰρ τοῦ γε κρεῖσσον καὶ ἄρειον,\nἢ ὅθʼ ὁμοφρονέοντε νοήμασιν οἶκον ἔχητον\nἀνὴρ ἠδὲ γυνή· πόλλʼ ἄλγεα δυσμενέεσσι,\nχάρματα δʼ εὐμενέτῃσι, μάλιστα δέ τʼ ἔκλυον αὐτοί.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Ναυσικάα λευκώλενος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ οὔτε κακῷ οὔτʼ ἄφρονι φωτὶ ἔοικας·\nΖεὺς δʼ αὐτὸς νέμει ὄλβον Ὀλύμπιος ἀνθρώποισιν,\nἐσθλοῖς ἠδὲ κακοῖσιν, ὅπως ἐθέλῃσιν, ἑκάστῳ·\nκαί που σοὶ τάδʼ ἔδωκε, σὲ δὲ χρὴ τετλάμεν ἔμπης.\nνῦν δʼ, ἐπεὶ ἡμετέρην τε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἱκάνεις,\nοὔτʼ οὖν ἐσθῆτος δευήσεαι οὔτε τευ ἄλλου,\nὧν ἐπέοιχʼ ἱκέτην ταλαπείριον ἀντιάσαντα.\nἄστυ δέ τοι δείξω, ἐρέω δέ τοι οὔνομα λαῶν.\nΦαίηκες μὲν τήνδε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἔχουσιν,\nεἰμὶ δʼ ἐγὼ θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nτοῦ δʼ ἐκ Φαιήκων ἔχεται κάρτος τε βίη τε.\nἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφιπόλοισιν ἐυπλοκάμοισι κέλευσε·\nστῆτέ μοι, ἀμφίπολοι· πόσε φεύγετε φῶτα ἰδοῦσαι;\nἦ μή πού τινα δυσμενέων φάσθʼ ἔμμεναι ἀνδρῶν;\nοὐκ ἔσθʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ διερὸς βροτὸς οὐδὲ γένηται,\nὅς κεν Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἵκηται\nδηιοτῆτα φέρων· μάλα γὰρ φίλοι ἀθανάτοισιν.\nοἰκέομεν δʼ ἀπάνευθε πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ,\nἔσχατοι, οὐδέ τις ἄμμι βροτῶν ἐπιμίσγεται ἄλλος.\nἀλλʼ ὅδε τις δύστηνος ἀλώμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνει,\nτὸν νῦν χρὴ κομέειν· πρὸς γὰρ Διός εἰσιν ἅπαντες\nξεῖνοί τε πτωχοί τε, δόσις δʼ ὀλίγη τε φίλη τε.\nἀλλὰ δότʼ, ἀμφίπολοι, ξείνῳ βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε,\nλούσατέ τʼ ἐν ποταμῷ, ὅθʼ ἐπὶ σκέπας ἔστʼ ἀνέμοιο.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἔσταν τε καὶ ἀλλήλῃσι κέλευσαν,\nκὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆʼ εἷσαν ἐπὶ σκέπας, ὡς ἐκέλευσεν\nΝαυσικάα θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο·\nπὰρ δʼ ἄρα οἱ φᾶρός τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἔθηκαν,\nδῶκαν δὲ χρυσέῃ ἐν ληκύθῳ ὑγρὸν ἔλαιον,\nἤνωγον δʼ ἄρα μιν λοῦσθαι ποταμοῖο ῥοῇσιν.\nδή ῥα τότʼ ἀμφιπόλοισι μετηύδα δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἀμφίπολοι, στῆθʼ οὕτω ἀπόπροθεν, ὄφρʼ ἐγὼ αὐτὸς\nἅλμην ὤμοιιν ἀπολούσομαι, ἀμφὶ δʼ ἐλαίῳ\nχρίσομαι· ἦ γὰρ δηρὸν ἀπὸ χροός ἐστιν ἀλοιφή.\nἄντην δʼ οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε λοέσσομαι· αἰδέομαι γὰρ\nγυμνοῦσθαι κούρῃσιν ἐυπλοκάμοισι μετελθών.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἀπάνευθεν ἴσαν, εἶπον δʼ ἄρα κούρῃ.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ ἐκ ποταμοῦ χρόα νίζετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἅλμην, ἥ οἱ νῶτα καὶ εὐρέας ἄμπεχεν ὤμους,\nἐκ κεφαλῆς δʼ ἔσμηχεν ἁλὸς χνόον ἀτρυγέτοιο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα λοέσσατο καὶ λίπʼ ἄλειψεν,\nἀμφὶ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσαθʼ ἅ οἱ πόρε παρθένος ἀδμής,\nτὸν μὲν Ἀθηναίη θῆκεν Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα\nμείζονά τʼ εἰσιδέειν καὶ πάσσονα, κὰδ δὲ κάρητος\nοὔλας ἧκε κόμας, ὑακινθίνῳ ἄνθει ὁμοίας.\nὡς δʼ ὅτε τις χρυσὸν περιχεύεται ἀργύρῳ ἀνὴρ\nἴδρις, ὃν Ἥφαιστος δέδαεν καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη\nτέχνην παντοίην, χαρίεντα δὲ ἔργα τελείει,\nὣς ἄρα τῷ κατέχευε χάριν κεφαλῇ τε καὶ ὤμοις.\nἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπάνευθε κιὼν ἐπὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης,\nκάλλεϊ καὶ χάρισι στίλβων· θηεῖτο δὲ κούρη.\nδή ῥα τότʼ ἀμφιπόλοισιν ἐυπλοκάμοισι μετηύδα·\nκλῦτέ μευ, ἀμφίπολοι λευκώλενοι, ὄφρα τι εἴπω.\nοὐ πάντων ἀέκητι θεῶν, οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν,\nΦαιήκεσσʼ ὅδʼ ἀνὴρ ἐπιμίσγεται ἀντιθέοισι·\nπρόσθεν μὲν γὰρ δή μοι ἀεικέλιος δέατʼ εἶναι,\nνῦν δὲ θεοῖσιν ἔοικε, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.\nαἲ γὰρ ἐμοὶ τοιόσδε πόσις κεκλημένος εἴη\nἐνθάδε ναιετάων, καί οἱ ἅδοι αὐτόθι μίμνειν.\nἀλλὰ δότʼ, ἀμφίπολοι, ξείνῳ βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἄρα τῆς μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο,\nπὰρ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆι ἔθεσαν βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε.\nἦ τοι ὁ πῖνε καὶ ἦσθε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἁρπαλέως· δηρὸν γὰρ ἐδητύος ἦεν ἄπαστος.\nαὐτὰρ Ναυσικάα λευκώλενος ἄλλʼ ἐνόησεν·\nεἵματʼ ἄρα πτύξασα τίθει καλῆς ἐπʼ ἀπήνης,\nζεῦξεν δʼ ἡμιόνους κρατερώνυχας, ἂν δʼ ἔβη αὐτή,\nὤτρυνεν δʼ Ὀδυσῆα, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nὄρσεο δὴ νῦν, ξεῖνε, πόλινδʼ ἴμεν ὄφρα σε πέμψω\nπατρὸς ἐμοῦ πρὸς δῶμα δαΐφρονος, ἔνθα σέ φημι\nπάντων Φαιήκων εἰδησέμεν ὅσσοι ἄριστοι.\nἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὧδʼ ἔρδειν, δοκέεις δέ μοι οὐκ ἀπινύσσειν·\nὄφρʼ ἂν μέν κʼ ἀγροὺς ἴομεν καὶ ἔργʼ ἀνθρώπων,\nτόφρα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι μεθʼ ἡμιόνους καὶ ἄμαξαν\nκαρπαλίμως ἔρχεσθαι· ἐγὼ δʼ ὁδὸν ἡγεμονεύσω.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν πόλιος ἐπιβήομεν, ἣν πέρι πύργος\nὑψηλός, καλὸς δὲ λιμὴν ἑκάτερθε πόληος,\nλεπτὴ δʼ εἰσίθμη· νῆες δʼ ὁδὸν ἀμφιέλισσαι\nεἰρύαται· πᾶσιν γὰρ ἐπίστιόν ἐστιν ἑκάστῳ.\nἔνθα δέ τέ σφʼ ἀγορὴ καλὸν Ποσιδήιον ἀμφίς,\nῥυτοῖσιν λάεσσι κατωρυχέεσσʼ ἀραρυῖα.\nἔνθα δὲ νηῶν ὅπλα μελαινάων ἀλέγουσι,\nπείσματα καὶ σπεῖρα, καὶ ἀποξύνουσιν ἐρετμά.\nοὐ γὰρ Φαιήκεσσι μέλει βιὸς οὐδὲ φαρέτρη,\nἀλλʼ ἱστοὶ καὶ ἐρετμὰ νεῶν καὶ νῆες ἐῖσαι,\nᾗσιν ἀγαλλόμενοι πολιὴν περόωσι θάλασσαν.\nτῶν ἀλεείνω φῆμιν ἀδευκέα, μή τις ὀπίσσω\nμωμεύῃ· μάλα δʼ εἰσὶν ὑπερφίαλοι κατὰ δῆμον·\nκαί νύ τις ὧδʼ εἴπῃσι κακώτερος ἀντιβολήσας·\nτίς δʼ ὅδε Ναυσικάᾳ ἕπεται καλός τε μέγας τε\nξεῖνος; ποῦ δέ μιν εὗρε; πόσις νύ οἱ ἔσσεται αὐτῇ.\nἦ τινά που πλαγχθέντα κομίσσατο ἧς ἀπὸ νηὸς\nἀνδρῶν τηλεδαπῶν, ἐπεὶ οὔ τινες ἐγγύθεν εἰσίν·\nἤ τίς οἱ εὐξαμένῃ πολυάρητος θεὸς ἦλθεν\nοὐρανόθεν καταβάς, ἕξει δέ μιν ἤματα πάντα.\nβέλτερον, εἰ καὐτή περ ἐποιχομένη πόσιν εὗρεν\nἄλλοθεν· ἦ γὰρ τούσδε γʼ ἀτιμάζει κατὰ δῆμον\nΦαίηκας, τοί μιν μνῶνται πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοί.\nὣς ἐρέουσιν, ἐμοὶ δέ κʼ ὀνείδεα ταῦτα γένοιτο.\nκαὶ δʼ ἄλλῃ νεμεσῶ, ἥ τις τοιαῦτά γε ῥέζοι,\nἥ τʼ ἀέκητι φίλων πατρὸς καὶ μητρὸς ἐόντων,\nἀνδράσι μίσγηται, πρίν γʼ ἀμφάδιον γάμον ἐλθεῖν.\nξεῖνε, σὺ δʼ ὦκʼ ἐμέθεν ξυνίει ἔπος, ὄφρα τάχιστα\nπομπῆς καὶ νόστοιο τύχῃς παρὰ πατρὸς ἐμοῖο.\nδήεις ἀγλαὸν ἄλσος Ἀθήνης ἄγχι κελεύθου\nαἰγείρων· ἐν δὲ κρήνη νάει, ἀμφὶ δὲ λειμών·\nἔνθα δὲ πατρὸς ἐμοῦ τέμενος τεθαλυῖά τʼ ἀλωή,\nτόσσον ἀπὸ πτόλιος, ὅσσον τε γέγωνε βοήσας.\nἔνθα καθεζόμενος μεῖναι χρόνον, εἰς ὅ κεν ἡμεῖς\nἄστυδε ἔλθωμεν καὶ ἱκώμεθα δώματα πατρός.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ἡμέας ἔλπῃ ποτὶ δώματʼ ἀφῖχθαι,\nκαὶ τότε Φαιήκων ἴμεν ἐς πόλιν ἠδʼ ἐρέεσθαι\nδώματα πατρὸς ἐμοῦ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο.\nῥεῖα δʼ ἀρίγνωτʼ ἐστί, καὶ ἂν πάϊς ἡγήσαιτο\nνήπιος· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι ἐοικότα τοῖσι τέτυκται\nδώματα Φαιήκων, οἷος δόμος Ἀλκινόοιο\nἥρωος. ἀλλʼ ὁπότʼ ἄν σε δόμοι κεκύθωσι καὶ αὐλή,\nὦκα μάλα μεγάροιο διελθέμεν, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἵκηαι\nμητέρʼ ἐμήν· ἡ δʼ ἧσται ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἐν πυρὸς αὐγῇ,\nἠλάκατα στρωφῶσʼ ἁλιπόρφυρα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι,\nκίονι κεκλιμένη· δμωαὶ δέ οἱ εἵατʼ ὄπισθεν.\nἔνθα δὲ πατρὸς ἐμοῖο θρόνος ποτικέκλιται αὐτῇ,\nτῷ ὅ γε οἰνοποτάζει ἐφήμενος ἀθάνατος ὥς.\nτὸν παραμειψάμενος μητρὸς περὶ γούνασι χεῖρας\nβάλλειν ἡμετέρης, ἵνα νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἴδηαι\nχαίρων καρπαλίμως, εἰ καὶ μάλα τηλόθεν ἐσσί.\nεἴ κέν τοι κείνη γε φίλα φρονέῃσʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,\nἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι\nοἶκον ἐυκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἵμασεν μάστιγι φαεινῇ\nἡμιόνους· αἱ δʼ ὦκα λίπον ποταμοῖο ῥέεθρα.\nαἱ δʼ ἐὺ μὲν τρώχων, ἐὺ δὲ πλίσσοντο πόδεσσιν·\nἡ δὲ μάλʼ ἡνιόχευεν, ὅπως ἅμʼ ἑποίατο πεζοὶ\nἀμφίπολοί τʼ Ὀδυσεύς τε, νόῳ δʼ ἐπέβαλλεν ἱμάσθλην.\nδύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος καὶ τοὶ κλυτὸν ἄλσος ἵκοντο\nἱρὸν Ἀθηναίης, ἵνʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nαὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἠρᾶτο Διὸς κούρῃ μεγάλοιο·\nκλῦθί μευ, αἰγιόχοιο Διὸς τέκος, Ἀτρυτώνη·\nνῦν δή πέρ μευ ἄκουσον, ἐπεὶ πάρος οὔ ποτʼ ἄκουσας\nῥαιομένου, ὅτε μʼ ἔρραιε κλυτὸς ἐννοσίγαιος.\nδός μʼ ἐς Φαίηκας φίλον ἐλθεῖν ἠδʼ ἐλεεινόν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος, τοῦ δʼ ἔκλυε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.\nαὐτῷ δʼ οὔ πω φαίνετʼ ἐναντίη· αἴδετο γάρ ῥα\nπατροκασίγνητον· ὁ δʼ ἐπιζαφελῶς μενέαινεν\nἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆι πάρος ἣν γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.\n\n### Book 7\n\nὧς ὁ μὲν ἔνθʼ ἠρᾶτο πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nκούρην δὲ προτὶ ἄστυ φέρεν μένος ἡμιόνοιιν.\nἡ δʼ ὅτε δὴ οὗ πατρὸς ἀγακλυτὰ δώμαθʼ ἵκανε,\nστῆσεν ἄρʼ ἐν προθύροισι, κασίγνητοι δέ μιν ἀμφὶς\nἵσταντʼ ἀθανάτοις ἐναλίγκιοι, οἵ ῥʼ ὑπʼ ἀπήνης\nἡμιόνους ἔλυον ἐσθῆτά τε ἔσφερον εἴσω.\nαὐτὴ δʼ ἐς θάλαμον ἑὸν ἤιε· δαῖε δέ οἱ πῦρ\nγρῆυς Ἀπειραίη, θαλαμηπόλος Εὐρυμέδουσα,\nτήν ποτʼ Ἀπείρηθεν νέες ἤγαγον ἀμφιέλισσαι·\nἈλκινόῳ δʼ αὐτὴν γέρας ἔξελον, οὕνεκα πᾶσιν\nΦαιήκεσσιν ἄνασσε, θεοῦ δʼ ὣς δῆμος ἄκουεν·\nἣ τρέφε Ναυσικάαν λευκώλενον ἐν μεγάροισιν.\nἥ οἱ πῦρ ἀνέκαιε καὶ εἴσω δόρπον ἐκόσμει.\nκαὶ τότʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς ὦρτο πόλινδʼ ἴμεν· ἀμφὶ δʼ Ἀθήνη\nπολλὴν ἠέρα χεῦε φίλα φρονέουσʼ Ὀδυσῆι,\nμή τις Φαιήκων μεγαθύμων ἀντιβολήσας\nκερτομέοι τʼ ἐπέεσσι καὶ ἐξερέοιθʼ ὅτις εἴη.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἄρʼ ἔμελλε πόλιν δύσεσθαι ἐραννήν,\nἔνθα οἱ ἀντεβόλησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,\nπαρθενικῇ ἐικυῖα νεήνιδι, κάλπιν ἐχούσῃ.\nστῆ δὲ πρόσθʼ αὐτοῦ, ὁ δʼ ἀνείρετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ τέκος, οὐκ ἄν μοι δόμον ἀνέρος ἡγήσαιο\nἈλκινόου, ὃς τοῖσδε μετʼ ἀνθρώποισι ἀνάσσει;\nκαὶ γὰρ ἐγὼ ξεῖνος ταλαπείριος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνω\nτηλόθεν ἐξ ἀπίης γαίης· τῷ οὔ τινα οἶδα\nἀνθρώπων, οἳ τήνδε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἔχουσιν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε πάτερ, δόμον, ὅν με κελεύεις,\nδείξω, ἐπεί μοι πατρὸς ἀμύμονος ἐγγύθι ναίει.\nἀλλʼ ἴθι σιγῇ τοῖον, ἐγὼ δʼ ὁδὸν ἡγεμονεύσω,\nμηδέ τινʼ ἀνθρώπων προτιόσσεο μηδʼ ἐρέεινε.\nοὐ γὰρ ξείνους οἵδε μάλʼ ἀνθρώπους ἀνέχονται,\nοὐδʼ ἀγαπαζόμενοι φιλέουσʼ ὅς κʼ ἄλλοθεν ἔλθῃ.\nνηυσὶ θοῇσιν τοί γε πεποιθότες ὠκείῃσι\nλαῖτμα μέγʼ ἐκπερόωσιν, ἐπεί σφισι δῶκʼ ἐνοσίχθων·\nτῶν νέες ὠκεῖαι ὡς εἰ πτερὸν ἠὲ νόημα.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἡγήσατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη\nκαρπαλίμως· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα μετʼ ἴχνια βαῖνε θεοῖο.\nτὸν δʼ ἄρα Φαίηκες ναυσικλυτοὶ οὐκ ἐνόησαν\nἐρχόμενον κατὰ ἄστυ διὰ σφέας· οὐ γὰρ Ἀθήνη\nεἴα ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεός, ἥ ῥά οἱ ἀχλὺν\nθεσπεσίην κατέχευε φίλα φρονέουσʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ.\nθαύμαζεν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς λιμένας καὶ νῆας ἐίσας\nαὐτῶν θʼ ἡρώων ἀγορὰς καὶ τείχεα μακρὰ\nὑψηλά, σκολόπεσσιν ἀρηρότα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ βασιλῆος ἀγακλυτὰ δώμαθʼ ἵκοντο,\nτοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nοὗτος δή τοι, ξεῖνε πάτερ, δόμος, ὅν με κελεύεις\nπεφραδέμεν· δήεις δὲ διοτρεφέας βασιλῆας\nδαίτην δαινυμένους· σὺ δʼ ἔσω κίε, μηδέ τι θυμῷ\nτάρβει· θαρσαλέος γὰρ ἀνὴρ ἐν πᾶσιν ἀμείνων\nἔργοισιν τελέθει, εἰ καί ποθεν ἄλλοθεν ἔλθοι.\nδέσποιναν μὲν πρῶτα κιχήσεαι ἐν μεγάροισιν·\nἈρήτη δʼ ὄνομʼ ἐστὶν ἐπώνυμον, ἐκ δὲ τοκήων\nτῶν αὐτῶν οἵ περ τέκον Ἀλκίνοον βασιλῆα.\nΝαυσίθοον μὲν πρῶτα Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων\nγείνατο καὶ Περίβοια, γυναικῶν εἶδος ἀρίστη,\nὁπλοτάτη θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Εὐρυμέδοντος,\nὅς ποθʼ ὑπερθύμοισι Γιγάντεσσιν βασίλευεν.\nἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ὤλεσε λαὸν ἀτάσθαλον, ὤλετο δʼ αὐτός·\nτῇ δὲ Ποσειδάων ἐμίγη καὶ ἐγείνατο παῖδα\nΝαυσίθοον μεγάθυμον, ὃς ἐν Φαίηξιν ἄνασσε·\nΝαυσίθοος δʼ ἔτεκεν Ῥηξήνορά τʼ Ἀλκίνοόν τε.\nτὸν μὲν ἄκουρον ἐόντα βάλʼ ἀργυρότοξος Ἀπόλλων\nνυμφίον ἐν μεγάρῳ, μίαν οἴην παῖδα λιπόντα\nἈρήτην· τὴν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος ποιήσατʼ ἄκοιτιν,\nκαί μιν ἔτισʼ, ὡς οὔ τις ἐπὶ χθονὶ τίεται ἄλλη,\nὅσσαι νῦν γε γυναῖκες ὑπʼ ἀνδράσιν οἶκον ἔχουσιν.\nὣς κείνη περὶ κῆρι τετίμηταί τε καὶ ἔστιν\nἔκ τε φίλων παίδων ἔκ τʼ αὐτοῦ Ἀλκινόοιο\nκαὶ λαῶν, οἵ μίν ῥα θεὸν ὣς εἰσορόωντες\nδειδέχαται μύθοισιν, ὅτε στείχῃσʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ.\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τι νόου γε καὶ αὐτὴ δεύεται ἐσθλοῦ·\nᾗσι τʼ ἐὺ φρονέῃσι καὶ ἀνδράσι νείκεα λύει.\nεἴ κέν τοι κείνη γε φίλα φρονέῃσʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,\nἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι\nοἶκον ἐς ὑψόροφον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον, λίπε δὲ Σχερίην ἐρατεινήν,\nἵκετο δʼ ἐς Μαραθῶνα καὶ εὐρυάγυιαν Ἀθήνην,\nδῦνε δʼ Ἐρεχθῆος πυκινὸν δόμον. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἈλκινόου πρὸς δώματʼ ἴε κλυτά· πολλὰ δέ οἱ κῆρ\nὥρμαινʼ ἱσταμένῳ, πρὶν χάλκεον οὐδὸν ἱκέσθαι.\nὥς τε γὰρ ἠελίου αἴγλη πέλεν ἠὲ σελήνης\nδῶμα καθʼ ὑψερεφὲς μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο.\nχάλκεοι μὲν γὰρ τοῖχοι ἐληλέδατʼ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,\nἐς μυχὸν ἐξ οὐδοῦ, περὶ δὲ θριγκὸς κυάνοιο·\nχρύσειαι δὲ θύραι πυκινὸν δόμον ἐντὸς ἔεργον·\nσταθμοὶ δʼ ἀργύρεοι ἐν χαλκέῳ ἕστασαν οὐδῷ,\nἀργύρεον δʼ ἐφʼ ὑπερθύριον, χρυσέη δὲ κορώνη.\nχρύσειοι δʼ ἑκάτερθε καὶ ἀργύρεοι κύνες ἦσαν,\nοὓς Ἥφαιστος ἔτευξεν ἰδυίῃσι πραπίδεσσι\nδῶμα φυλασσέμεναι μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nἀθανάτους ὄντας καὶ ἀγήρως ἤματα πάντα.\nἐν δὲ θρόνοι περὶ τοῖχον ἐρηρέδατʼ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,\nἐς μυχὸν ἐξ οὐδοῖο διαμπερές, ἔνθʼ ἐνὶ πέπλοι\nλεπτοὶ ἐύννητοι βεβλήατο, ἔργα γυναικῶν.\nἔνθα δὲ Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἑδριόωντο\nπίνοντες καὶ ἔδοντες· ἐπηετανὸν γὰρ ἔχεσκον.\nχρύσειοι δʼ ἄρα κοῦροι ἐυδμήτων ἐπὶ βωμῶν\nἕστασαν αἰθομένας δαΐδας μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχοντες,\nφαίνοντες νύκτας κατὰ δώματα δαιτυμόνεσσι.\nπεντήκοντα δέ οἱ δμωαὶ κατὰ δῶμα γυναῖκες\nαἱ μὲν ἀλετρεύουσι μύλῃς ἔπι μήλοπα καρπόν,\nαἱ δʼ ἱστοὺς ὑφόωσι καὶ ἠλάκατα στρωφῶσιν\nἥμεναι, οἷά τε φύλλα μακεδνῆς αἰγείροιο·\nκαιρουσσέων δʼ ὀθονέων ἀπολείβεται ὑγρὸν ἔλαιον.\nὅσσον Φαίηκες περὶ πάντων ἴδριες ἀνδρῶν\nνῆα θοὴν ἐνὶ πόντῳ ἐλαυνέμεν, ὣς δὲ γυναῖκες\nἱστῶν τεχνῆσσαι· πέρι γάρ σφισι δῶκεν Ἀθήνη\nἔργα τʼ ἐπίστασθαι περικαλλέα καὶ φρένας ἐσθλάς.\nἔκτοσθεν δʼ αὐλῆς μέγας ὄρχατος ἄγχι θυράων\nτετράγυος· περὶ δʼ ἕρκος ἐλήλαται ἀμφοτέρωθεν.\nἔνθα δὲ δένδρεα μακρὰ πεφύκασι τηλεθόωντα,\nὄγχναι καὶ ῥοιαὶ καὶ μηλέαι ἀγλαόκαρποι\nσυκέαι τε γλυκεραὶ καὶ ἐλαῖαι τηλεθόωσαι.\nτάων οὔ ποτε καρπὸς ἀπόλλυται οὐδʼ ἀπολείπει\nχείματος οὐδὲ θέρευς, ἐπετήσιος· ἀλλὰ μάλʼ αἰεὶ\nΖεφυρίη πνείουσα τὰ μὲν φύει, ἄλλα δὲ πέσσει.\nὄγχνη ἐπʼ ὄγχνῃ γηράσκει, μῆλον δʼ ἐπὶ μήλῳ,\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὶ σταφυλῇ σταφυλή, σῦκον δʼ ἐπὶ σύκῳ.\nἔνθα δέ οἱ πολύκαρπος ἀλωὴ ἐρρίζωται,\nτῆς ἕτερον μὲν θειλόπεδον λευρῷ ἐνὶ χώρῳ\nτέρσεται ἠελίῳ, ἑτέρας δʼ ἄρα τε τρυγόωσιν,\nἄλλας δὲ τραπέουσι· πάροιθε δέ τʼ ὄμφακές εἰσιν\nἄνθος ἀφιεῖσαι, ἕτεραι δʼ ὑποπερκάζουσιν.\nἔνθα δὲ κοσμηταὶ πρασιαὶ παρὰ νείατον ὄρχον\nπαντοῖαι πεφύασιν, ἐπηετανὸν γανόωσαι·\nἐν δὲ δύω κρῆναι ἡ μέν τʼ ἀνὰ κῆπον ἅπαντα\nσκίδναται, ἡ δʼ ἑτέρωθεν ὑπʼ αὐλῆς οὐδὸν ἵησι\nπρὸς δόμον ὑψηλόν, ὅθεν ὑδρεύοντο πολῖται.\nτοῖʼ ἄρʼ ἐν Ἀλκινόοιο θεῶν ἔσαν ἀγλαὰ δῶρα.\nἔνθα στὰς θηεῖτο πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα ἑῷ θηήσατο θυμῷ,\nκαρπαλίμως ὑπὲρ οὐδὸν ἐβήσετο δώματος εἴσω.\nεὗρε δὲ Φαιήκων ἡγήτορας ἠδὲ μέδοντας\nσπένδοντας δεπάεσσιν ἐυσκόπῳ ἀργεϊφόντῃ,\nᾧ πυμάτῳ σπένδεσκον, ὅτε μνησαίατο κοίτου.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ διὰ δῶμα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nπολλὴν ἠέρʼ ἔχων, ἥν οἱ περίχευεν Ἀθήνη,\nὄφρʼ ἵκετʼ Ἀρήτην τε καὶ Ἀλκίνοον βασιλῆα.\nἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀρήτης βάλε γούνασι χεῖρας Ὀδυσσεύς,\nκαὶ τότε δή ῥʼ αὐτοῖο πάλιν χύτο θέσφατος ἀήρ.\nοἱ δʼ ἄνεῳ ἐγένοντο, δόμον κάτα φῶτα ἰδόντες·\nθαύμαζον δʼ ὁρόωντες. ὁ δὲ λιτάνευεν Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἈρήτη, θύγατερ Ῥηξήνορος ἀντιθέοιο,\nσόν τε πόσιν σά τε γούναθʼ ἱκάνω πολλὰ μογήσας\nτούσδε τε δαιτυμόνας· τοῖσιν θεοὶ ὄλβια δοῖεν\nζωέμεναι, καὶ παισὶν ἐπιτρέψειεν ἕκαστος\nκτήματʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γέρας θʼ ὅ τι δῆμος ἔδωκεν·\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ πομπὴν ὀτρύνετε πατρίδʼ ἱκέσθαι\nθᾶσσον, ἐπεὶ δὴ δηθὰ φίλων ἄπο πήματα πάσχω.\nὣς εἰπὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἐν κονίῃσιν\nπὰρ πυρί· οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ.\nὀψὲ δὲ δὴ μετέειπε γέρων ἥρως Ἐχένηος,\nὃς δὴ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν προγενέστερος ἦεν\nκαὶ μύθοισι κέκαστο, παλαιά τε πολλά τε εἰδώς·\nὅ σφιν ἐὺ φρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·\nἈλκίνοʼ, οὐ μέν τοι τόδε κάλλιον, οὐδὲ ἔοικε,\nξεῖνον μὲν χαμαὶ ἧσθαι ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἐν κονίῃσιν,\nοἵδε δὲ σὸν μῦθον ποτιδέγμενοι ἰσχανόωνται.\nἄλλʼ ἄγε δὴ ξεῖνον μὲν ἐπὶ θρόνου ἀργυροήλου\nεἷσον ἀναστήσας, σὺ δὲ κηρύκεσσι κέλευσον\nοἶνον ἐπικρῆσαι, ἵνα καὶ Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ\nσπείσομεν, ὅς θʼ ἱκέτῃσιν ἅμʼ αἰδοίοισιν ὀπηδεῖ·\nδόρπον δὲ ξείνῳ ταμίη δότω ἔνδον ἐόντων.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nχειρὸς ἑλὼν Ὀδυσῆα δαΐφρονα ποικιλομήτην\nὦρσεν ἀπʼ ἐσχαρόφιν καὶ ἐπὶ θρόνου εἷσε φαεινοῦ,\nυἱὸν ἀναστήσας ἀγαπήνορα Λαοδάμαντα,\nὅς οἱ πλησίον ἷζε, μάλιστα δέ μιν φιλέεσκεν.\nχέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα\nκαλῇ χρυσείῃ ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,\nνίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.\nσῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,\nεἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ πῖνε καὶ ἦσθε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nκαὶ τότε κήρυκα προσέφη μένος Ἀλκινόοιο·\nΠοντόνοε, κρητῆρα κερασσάμενος μέθυ νεῖμον\nπᾶσιν ἀνὰ μέγαρον, ἵνα καὶ Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ\nσπείσομεν, ὅς θʼ ἱκέτῃσιν ἅμʼ αἰδοίοισιν ὀπηδεῖ.\nὣς φάτο, Ποντόνοος δὲ μελίφρονα οἶνον ἐκίρνα,\nνώμησεν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπαρξάμενος δεπάεσσιν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιόν θʼ, ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·\nκέκλυτε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες\nὄφρʼ εἴπω τά με θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κελεύει.\nνῦν μὲν δαισάμενοι κατακείετε οἴκαδʼ ἰόντες·\nἠῶθεν δὲ γέροντας ἐπὶ πλέονας καλέσαντες\nξεῖνον ἐνὶ μεγάροις ξεινίσσομεν ἠδὲ θεοῖσιν\nῥέξομεν ἱερὰ καλά, ἔπειτα δὲ καὶ περὶ πομπῆς\nμνησόμεθʼ, ὥς χʼ ὁ ξεῖνος ἄνευθε πόνου καὶ ἀνίης\nπομπῇ ὑφʼ ἡμετέρῃ ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηται\nχαίρων καρπαλίμως, εἰ καὶ μάλα τηλόθεν ἐστί,\nμηδέ τι μεσσηγύς γε κακὸν καὶ πῆμα πάθῃσι,\nπρίν γε τὸν ἧς γαίης ἐπιβήμεναι· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα\nπείσεται, ἅσσα οἱ αἶσα κατὰ κλῶθές τε βαρεῖαι\nγιγνομένῳ νήσαντο λίνῳ, ὅτε μιν τέκε μήτηρ.\nεἰ δέ τις ἀθανάτων γε κατʼ οὐρανοῦ εἰλήλουθεν,\nἄλλο τι δὴ τόδʼ ἔπειτα θεοὶ περιμηχανόωνται.\nαἰεὶ γὰρ τὸ πάρος γε θεοὶ φαίνονται ἐναργεῖς\nἡμῖν, εὖτʼ ἔρδωμεν ἀγακλειτὰς ἑκατόμβας,\nδαίνυνταί τε παρʼ ἄμμι καθήμενοι ἔνθα περ ἡμεῖς.\nεἰ δʼ ἄρα τις καὶ μοῦνος ἰὼν ξύμβληται ὁδίτης,\nοὔ τι κατακρύπτουσιν, ἐπεί σφισιν ἐγγύθεν εἰμέν,\nὥς περ Κύκλωπές τε καὶ ἄγρια φῦλα Γιγάντων.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἈλκίνοʼ, ἄλλο τί τοι μελέτω φρεσίν· οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γε\nἀθανάτοισιν ἔοικα, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,\nοὐ δέμας οὐδὲ φυήν, ἀλλὰ θνητοῖσι βροτοῖσιν.\nοὕς τινας ὑμεῖς ἴστε μάλιστʼ ὀχέοντας ὀιζὺν\nἀνθρώπων, τοῖσίν κεν ἐν ἄλγεσιν ἰσωσαίμην.\nκαὶ δʼ ἔτι κεν καὶ μᾶλλον ἐγὼ κακὰ μυθησαίμην,\nὅσσα γε δὴ ξύμπαντα θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησα.\nἀλλʼ ἐμὲ μὲν δορπῆσαι ἐάσατε κηδόμενόν περ·\nοὐ γάρ τι στυγερῇ ἐπὶ γαστέρι κύντερον ἄλλο\nἔπλετο, ἥ τʼ ἐκέλευσεν ἕο μνήσασθαι ἀνάγκῃ\nκαὶ μάλα τειρόμενον καὶ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ πένθος ἔχοντα,\nὡς καὶ ἐγὼ πένθος μὲν ἔχω φρεσίν, ἡ δὲ μάλʼ αἰεὶ\nἐσθέμεναι κέλεται καὶ πινέμεν, ἐκ δέ με πάντων\nληθάνει ὅσσʼ ἔπαθον, καὶ ἐνιπλησθῆναι ἀνώγει.\nὑμεῖς δʼ ὀτρύνεσθαι ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν,\nὥς κʼ ἐμὲ τὸν δύστηνον ἐμῆς ἐπιβήσετε πάτρης\nκαί περ πολλὰ παθόντα· ἰδόντα με καὶ λίποι αἰὼν\nκτῆσιν ἐμήν, δμῶάς τε καὶ ὑψερεφὲς μέγα δῶμα.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον\nπεμπέμεναι τὸν ξεῖνον, ἐπεὶ κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπεν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιον θʼ ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,\nοἱ μὲν κακκείοντες ἔβαν οἶκόνδε ἕκαστος,\nαὐτὰρ ὁ ἐν μεγάρῳ ὑπελείπετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nπὰρ δέ οἱ Ἀρήτη τε καὶ Ἀλκίνοος θεοειδὴς\nἥσθην· ἀμφίπολοι δʼ ἀπεκόσμεον ἔντεα δαιτός.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀρήτη λευκώλενος ἤρχετο μύθων·\nἔγνω γὰρ φᾶρός τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἰδοῦσα\nκαλά, τά ῥʼ αὐτὴ τεῦξε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξί·\nκαί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nξεῖνε, τὸ μέν σε πρῶτον ἐγὼν εἰρήσομαι αὐτή·\nτίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν; τίς τοι τάδε εἵματʼ ἔδωκεν;\nοὐ δὴ φῆς ἐπὶ πόντον ἀλώμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι;\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἀργαλέον, βασίλεια, διηνεκέως ἀγορεῦσαι\nκήδεʼ, ἐπεί μοι πολλὰ δόσαν θεοὶ Οὐρανίωνες·\nτοῦτο δέ τοι ἐρέω ὅ μʼ ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς.\nὨγυγίη τις νῆσος ἀπόπροθεν εἰν ἁλὶ κεῖται·\nἔνθα μὲν Ἄτλαντος θυγάτηρ, δολόεσσα Καλυψὼ\nναίει ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεός· οὐδέ τις αὐτῇ\nμίσγεται οὔτε θεῶν οὔτε θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων.\nἀλλʼ ἐμὲ τὸν δύστηνον ἐφέστιον ἤγαγε δαίμων\nοἶον, ἐπεί μοι νῆα θοὴν ἀργῆτι κεραυνῷ\nΖεὺς ἔλσας ἐκέασσε μέσῳ ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ.\nἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀπέφθιθεν ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι,\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τρόπιν ἀγκὰς ἑλὼν νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης\nἐννῆμαρ φερόμην· δεκάτῃ δέ με νυκτὶ μελαίνῃ\nνῆσον ἐς Ὠγυγίην πέλασαν θεοί, ἔνθα Καλυψὼ\nναίει ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεός, ἥ με λαβοῦσα\nἐνδυκέως ἐφίλει τε καὶ ἔτρεφεν ἠδὲ ἔφασκε\nθήσειν ἀθάνατον καὶ ἀγήραον ἤματα πάντα·\nἀλλʼ ἐμὸν οὔ ποτε θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔπειθεν.\nἔνθα μὲν ἑπτάετες μένον ἔμπεδον, εἵματα δʼ αἰεὶ\nδάκρυσι δεύεσκον, τά μοι ἄμβροτα δῶκε Καλυψώ·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ὀγδόατόν μοι ἐπιπλόμενον ἔτος ἦλθεν,\nκαὶ τότε δή μʼ ἐκέλευσεν ἐποτρύνουσα νέεσθαι\nΖηνὸς ὑπʼ ἀγγελίης, ἢ καὶ νόος ἐτράπετʼ αὐτῆς.\nπέμπε δʼ ἐπὶ σχεδίης πολυδέσμου, πολλὰ δʼ ἔδωκε,\nσῖτον καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ, καὶ ἄμβροτα εἵματα ἕσσεν,\nοὖρον δὲ προέηκεν ἀπήμονά τε λιαρόν τε.\nἑπτὰ δὲ καὶ δέκα μὲν πλέον ἤματα ποντοπορεύων,\nὀκτωκαιδεκάτῃ δʼ ἐφάνη ὄρεα σκιόεντα\nγαίης ὑμετέρης, γήθησε δέ μοι φίλον ἦτορ\nδυσμόρῳ· ἦ γὰρ ἔμελλον ἔτι ξυνέσεσθαι ὀιζυῖ\nπολλῇ, τήν μοι ἐπῶρσε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,\nὅς μοι ἐφορμήσας ἀνέμους κατέδησε κέλευθον,\nὤρινεν δὲ θάλασσαν ἀθέσφατον, οὐδέ τι κῦμα\nεἴα ἐπὶ σχεδίης ἁδινὰ στενάχοντα φέρεσθαι.\nτὴν μὲν ἔπειτα θύελλα διεσκέδασʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε\nνηχόμενος τόδε λαῖτμα διέτμαγον, ὄφρα με γαίῃ\nὑμετέρῃ ἐπέλασσε φέρων ἄνεμός τε καὶ ὕδωρ.\nἔνθα κέ μʼ ἐκβαίνοντα βιήσατο κῦμʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου,\nπέτρῃς πρὸς μεγάλῃσι βαλὸν καὶ ἀτερπέι χώρῳ·\nἀλλʼ ἀναχασσάμενος νῆχον πάλιν, ἧος ἐπῆλθον\nἐς ποταμόν, τῇ δή μοι ἐείσατο χῶρος ἄριστος,\nλεῖος πετράων, καὶ ἐπὶ σκέπας ἦν ἀνέμοιο.\nἐκ δʼ ἔπεσον θυμηγερέων, ἐπὶ δʼ ἀμβροσίη νὺξ\nἤλυθʼ. ἐγὼ δʼ ἀπάνευθε διιπετέος ποταμοῖο\nἐκβὰς ἐν θάμνοισι κατέδραθον, ἀμφὶ δὲ φύλλα\nἠφυσάμην· ὕπνον δὲ θεὸς κατʼ ἀπείρονα χεῦεν.\nἔνθα μὲν ἐν φύλλοισι φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ\nεὗδον παννύχιος καὶ ἐπʼ ἠῶ καὶ μέσον ἦμαρ.\nδείλετό τʼ ἠέλιος καί με γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἀνῆκεν.\nἀμφιπόλους δʼ ἐπὶ θινὶ τεῆς ἐνόησα θυγατρὸς\nπαιζούσας, ἐν δʼ αὐτὴ ἔην ἐικυῖα θεῇσι·\nτὴν ἱκέτευσʼ· ἡ δʼ οὔ τι νοήματος ἤμβροτεν ἐσθλοῦ,\nὡς οὐκ ἂν ἔλποιο νεώτερον ἀντιάσαντα\nἐρξέμεν· αἰεὶ γάρ τε νεώτεροι ἀφραδέουσιν.\nἥ μοι σῖτον ἔδωκεν ἅλις ἠδʼ αἴθοπα οἶνον\nκαὶ λοῦσʼ ἐν ποταμῷ καί μοι τάδε εἵματʼ ἔδωκε.\nταῦτά τοι ἀχνύμενός περ ἀληθείην κατέλεξα.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·\nξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν τοῦτό γʼ ἐναίσιμον οὐκ ἐνόησε\nπαῖς ἐμή, οὕνεκά σʼ οὔ τι μετʼ ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν\nἦγεν ἐς ἡμέτερον, σὺ δʼ ἄρα πρώτην ἱκέτευσας.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἥρως, μή τοι τοὔνεκʼ ἀμύμονα νείκεε κούρην·\nἡ μὲν γάρ μʼ ἐκέλευε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισιν ἕπεσθαι,\nἀλλʼ ἐγὼ οὐκ ἔθελον δείσας αἰσχυνόμενός τε,\nμή πως καὶ σοὶ θυμὸς ἐπισκύσσαιτο ἰδόντι·\nδύσζηλοι γάρ τʼ εἰμὲν ἐπὶ χθονὶ φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·\nξεῖνʼ, οὔ μοι τοιοῦτον ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλον κῆρ\nμαψιδίως κεχολῶσθαι· ἀμείνω δʼ αἴσιμα πάντα.\nαἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,\nτοῖος ἐὼν οἷός ἐσσι, τά τε φρονέων ἅ τʼ ἐγώ περ,\nπαῖδά τʼ ἐμὴν ἐχέμεν καὶ ἐμὸς γαμβρὸς καλέεσθαι\nαὖθι μένων· οἶκον δέ κʼ ἐγὼ καὶ κτήματα δοίην,\nεἴ κʼ ἐθέλων γε μένοις· ἀέκοντα δέ σʼ οὔ τις ἐρύξει\nΦαιήκων· μὴ τοῦτο φίλον Διὶ πατρὶ γένοιτο.\nπομπὴν δʼ ἐς τόδʼ ἐγὼ τεκμαίρομαι, ὄφρʼ ἐὺ εἰδῇς,\nαὔριον ἔς· τῆμος δὲ σὺ μὲν δεδμημένος ὕπνῳ\nλέξεαι, οἱ δʼ ἐλόωσι γαλήνην, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἵκηαι\nπατρίδα σὴν καὶ δῶμα, καὶ εἴ πού τοι φίλον ἐστίν,\nεἴ περ καὶ μάλα πολλὸν ἑκαστέρω ἔστʼ Εὐβοίης,\nτήν περ τηλοτάτω φάσʼ ἔμμεναι, οἵ μιν ἴδοντο\nλαῶν ἡμετέρων, ὅτε τε ξανθὸν Ῥαδάμανθυν\nἦγον ἐποψόμενον Τιτυὸν Γαιήιον υἱόν.\nκαὶ μὲν οἱ ἔνθʼ ἦλθον καὶ ἄτερ καμάτοιο τέλεσσαν\nἤματι τῷ αὐτῷ καὶ ἀπήνυσαν οἴκαδʼ ὀπίσσω.\nεἰδήσεις δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ὅσσον ἄρισται\nνῆες ἐμαὶ καὶ κοῦροι ἀναρρίπτειν ἅλα πηδῷ.\nὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nεὐχόμενος δʼ ἄρα εἶπεν, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nΖεῦ πάτερ, αἴθʼ ὅσα εἶπε τελευτήσειεν ἅπαντα\nἈλκίνοος· τοῦ μέν κεν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν\nἄσβεστον κλέος εἴη, ἐγὼ δέ κε πατρίδʼ ἱκοίμην.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·\nκέκλετο δʼ Ἀρήτη λευκώλενος ἀμφιπόλοισιν\nδέμνιʼ ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ θέμεναι καὶ ῥήγεα καλὰ\nπορφύρεʼ ἐμβαλέειν, στορέσαι τʼ ἐφύπερθε τάπητας\nχλαίνας τʼ ἐνθέμεναι οὔλας καθύπερθεν ἕσασθαι.\nαἱ δʼ ἴσαν ἐκ μεγάροιο δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσαι·\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ στόρεσαν πυκινὸν λέχος ἐγκονέουσαι,\nὤτρυνον δʼ Ὀδυσῆα παριστάμεναι ἐπέεσσιν·\nὄρσο κέων, ὦ ξεῖνε· πεποίηται δέ τοι εὐνή.\nὣς φάν, τῷ δʼ ἀσπαστὸν ἐείσατο κοιμηθῆναι.\nὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθα καθεῦδε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nτρητοῖς ἐν λεχέεσσιν ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ ἐριδούπῳ·\nἈλκίνοος δʼ ἄρα λέκτο μυχῷ δόμου ὑψηλοῖο,\nπὰρ δὲ γυνὴ δέσποινα λέχος πόρσυνε καὶ εὐνήν.\n\n### Book 8\n\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nὤρνυτʼ ἄρʼ ἐξ εὐνῆς ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nἂν δʼ ἄρα διογενὴς ὦρτο πτολίπορθος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nτοῖσιν δʼ ἡγεμόνευʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο\nΦαιήκων ἀγορήνδʼ, ἥ σφιν παρὰ νηυσὶ τέτυκτο.\nἐλθόντες δὲ καθῖζον ἐπὶ ξεστοῖσι λίθοισι\nπλησίον. ἡ δʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ μετῴχετο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη\nεἰδομένη κήρυκι δαΐφρονος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nνόστον Ὀδυσσῆι μεγαλήτορι μητιόωσα,\nκαί ῥα ἑκάστῳ φωτὶ παρισταμένη φάτο μῦθον·\nδεῦτʼ ἄγε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,\nεἰς ἀγορὴν ἰέναι, ὄφρα ξείνοιο πύθησθε,\nὃς νέον Ἀλκινόοιο δαΐφρονος ἵκετο δῶμα\nπόντον ἐπιπλαγχθείς, δέμας ἀθανάτοισιν ὁμοῖος.\nὣς εἰποῦσʼ ὤτρυνε μένος καὶ θυμὸν ἑκάστου.\nκαρπαλίμως δʼ ἔμπληντο βροτῶν ἀγοραί τε καὶ ἕδραι\nἀγρομένων· πολλοὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐθηήσαντο ἰδόντες\nυἱὸν Λαέρταο δαΐφρονα· τῷ δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀθήνη\nθεσπεσίην κατέχευε χάριν κεφαλῇ τε καὶ ὤμοις\nκαί μιν μακρότερον καὶ πάσσονα θῆκεν ἰδέσθαι,\nὥς κεν Φαιήκεσσι φίλος πάντεσσι γένοιτο\nδεινός τʼ αἰδοῖός τε καὶ ἐκτελέσειεν ἀέθλους\nπολλούς, τοὺς Φαίηκες ἐπειρήσαντʼ Ὀδυσῆος.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἤγερθεν ὁμηγερέες τʼ ἐγένοντο,\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·\nκέκλυτε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,\nὄφρʼ εἴπω τά με θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κελεύει.\nξεῖνος ὅδʼ, οὐκ οἶδʼ ὅς τις, ἀλώμενος ἵκετʼ ἐμὸν δῶ,\nἠὲ πρὸς ἠοίων ἦ ἑσπερίων ἀνθρώπων·\nπομπὴν δʼ ὀτρύνει, καὶ λίσσεται ἔμπεδον εἶναι.\nἡμεῖς δʼ, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ, ἐποτρυνώμεθα πομπήν.\nοὐδὲ γὰρ οὐδέ τις ἄλλος, ὅτις κʼ ἐμὰ δώμαθʼ ἵκηται,\nἐνθάδʼ ὀδυρόμενος δηρὸν μένει εἵνεκα πομπῆς.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῆα μέλαιναν ἐρύσσομεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν\nπρωτόπλοον, κούρω δὲ δύω καὶ πεντήκοντα\nκρινάσθων κατὰ δῆμον, ὅσοι πάρος εἰσὶν ἄριστοι.\nδησάμενοι δʼ ἐὺ πάντες ἐπὶ κληῖσιν ἐρετμὰ\nἔκβητʼ· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα θοὴν ἀλεγύνετε δαῖτα\nἡμέτερόνδʼ ἐλθόντες· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐὺ πᾶσι παρέξω.\nκούροισιν μὲν ταῦτʼ ἐπιτέλλομαι· αὐτὰρ οἱ ἄλλοι\nσκηπτοῦχοι βασιλῆες ἐμὰ πρὸς δώματα καλὰ\nἔρχεσθʼ, ὄφρα ξεῖνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι φιλέωμεν,\nμηδέ τις ἀρνείσθω. καλέσασθε δὲ θεῖον ἀοιδὸν\nΔημόδοκον· τῷ γάρ ῥα θεὸς πέρι δῶκεν ἀοιδὴν\nτέρπειν, ὅππῃ θυμὸς ἐποτρύνῃσιν ἀείδειν.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἡγήσατο, τοὶ δʼ ἅμʼ ἕποντο\nσκηπτοῦχοι· κῆρυξ δὲ μετῴχετο θεῖον ἀοιδόν.\nκούρω δὲ κρινθέντε δύω καὶ πεντήκοντα\nβήτην, ὡς ἐκέλευσʼ, ἐπὶ θῖνʼ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,\nνῆα μὲν οἵ γε μέλαιναν ἁλὸς βένθοσδε ἔρυσσαν,\nἐν δʼ ἱστόν τʼ ἐτίθεντο καὶ ἱστία νηὶ μελαίνῃ,\nἠρτύναντο δʼ ἐρετμὰ τροποῖς ἐν δερματίνοισι,\nπάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λευκὰ πέτασσαν.\nὑψοῦ δʼ ἐν νοτίῳ τήν γʼ ὥρμισαν· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nβάν ῥʼ ἴμεν Ἀλκινόοιο δαΐφρονος ἐς μέγα δῶμα.\nπλῆντο δʼ ἄρʼ αἴθουσαί τε καὶ ἕρκεα καὶ δόμοι ἀνδρῶν\nἀγρομένων· πολλοὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔσαν, νέοι ἠδὲ παλαιοί.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος δυοκαίδεκα μῆλʼ ἱέρευσεν,\nὀκτὼ δʼ ἀργιόδοντας ὕας, δύο δʼ εἰλίποδας βοῦς·\nτοὺς δέρον ἀμφί θʼ ἕπον, τετύκοντό τε δαῖτʼ ἐρατεινήν.\nκῆρυξ δʼ ἐγγύθεν ἦλθεν ἄγων ἐρίηρον ἀοιδόν,\nτὸν πέρι μοῦσʼ ἐφίλησε, δίδου δʼ ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε·\nὀφθαλμῶν μὲν ἄμερσε, δίδου δʼ ἡδεῖαν ἀοιδήν.\nτῷ δʼ ἄρα Ποντόνοος θῆκε θρόνον ἀργυρόηλον\nμέσσῳ δαιτυμόνων, πρὸς κίονα μακρὸν ἐρείσας·\nκὰδ δʼ ἐκ πασσαλόφι κρέμασεν φόρμιγγα λίγειαν\nαὐτοῦ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς καὶ ἐπέφραδε χερσὶν ἑλέσθαι\nκῆρυξ· πὰρ δʼ ἐτίθει κάνεον καλήν τε τράπεζαν,\nπὰρ δὲ δέπας οἴνοιο, πιεῖν ὅτε θυμὸς ἀνώγοι.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nμοῦσʼ ἄρʼ ἀοιδὸν ἀνῆκεν ἀειδέμεναι κλέα ἀνδρῶν,\nοἴμης τῆς τότʼ ἄρα κλέος οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἵκανε,\nνεῖκος Ὀδυσσῆος καὶ Πηλεΐδεω Ἀχιλῆος,\nὥς ποτε δηρίσαντο θεῶν ἐν δαιτὶ θαλείῃ\nἐκπάγλοις ἐπέεσσιν, ἄναξ δʼ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων\nχαῖρε νόῳ, ὅ τʼ ἄριστοι Ἀχαιῶν δηριόωντο.\nὣς γάρ οἱ χρείων μυθήσατο Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων\nΠυθοῖ ἐν ἠγαθέῃ, ὅθʼ ὑπέρβη λάινον οὐδὸν\nχρησόμενος· τότε γάρ ῥα κυλίνδετο πήματος ἀρχὴ\nΤρωσί τε καὶ Δαναοῖσι Διὸς μεγάλου διὰ βουλάς.\nταῦτʼ ἄρʼ ἀοιδὸς ἄειδε περικλυτός· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nπορφύρεον μέγα φᾶρος ἑλὼν χερσὶ στιβαρῇσι\nκὰκ κεφαλῆς εἴρυσσε, κάλυψε δὲ καλὰ πρόσωπα·\nαἴδετο γὰρ Φαίηκας ὑπʼ ὀφρύσι δάκρυα λείβων.\nἦ τοι ὅτε λήξειεν ἀείδων θεῖος ἀοιδός,\nδάκρυ ὀμορξάμενος κεφαλῆς ἄπο φᾶρος ἕλεσκε\nκαὶ δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον ἑλὼν σπείσασκε θεοῖσιν·\nαὐτὰρ ὅτʼ ἂψ ἄρχοιτο καὶ ὀτρύνειαν ἀείδειν\nΦαιήκων οἱ ἄριστοι, ἐπεὶ τέρποντʼ ἐπέεσσιν,\nἂψ Ὀδυσεὺς κατὰ κρᾶτα καλυψάμενος γοάασκεν.\nἔνθʼ ἄλλους μὲν πάντας ἐλάνθανε δάκρυα λείβων,\nἈλκίνοος δέ μιν οἶος ἐπεφράσατʼ ἠδʼ ἐνόησεν\nἥμενος ἄγχʼ αὐτοῦ, βαρὺ δὲ στενάχοντος ἄκουσεν.\nαἶψα δὲ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μετηύδα·\nκέκλυτε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες.\nἤδη μὲν δαιτὸς κεκορήμεθα θυμὸν ἐίσης\nφόρμιγγός θʼ, ἣ δαιτὶ συνήορός ἐστι θαλείῃ·\nνῦν δʼ ἐξέλθωμεν καὶ ἀέθλων πειρηθῶμεν\nπάντων, ὥς χʼ ὁ ξεῖνος ἐνίσπῃ οἷσι φίλοισιν\nοἴκαδε νοστήσας, ὅσσον περιγιγνόμεθʼ ἄλλων\nπύξ τε παλαιμοσύνῃ τε καὶ ἅλμασιν ἠδὲ πόδεσσιν.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἡγήσατο, τοὶ δʼ ἅμʼ ἕποντο.\nκὰδ δʼ ἐκ πασσαλόφι κρέμασεν φόρμιγγα λίγειαν,\nΔημοδόκου δʼ ἕλε χεῖρα καὶ ἔξαγεν ἐκ μεγάροιο\nκῆρυξ· ἦρχε δὲ τῷ αὐτὴν ὁδὸν ἥν περ οἱ ἄλλοι\nΦαιήκων οἱ ἄριστοι, ἀέθλια θαυμανέοντες.\nβὰν δʼ ἴμεν εἰς ἀγορήν, ἅμα δʼ ἕσπετο πουλὺς ὅμιλος,\nμυρίοι· ἂν δʼ ἵσταντο νέοι πολλοί τε καὶ ἐσθλοί.\nὦρτο μὲν Ἀκρόνεώς τε καὶ Ὠκύαλος καὶ Ἐλατρεύς,\nΝαυτεύς τε Πρυμνεύς τε καὶ Ἀγχίαλος καὶ Ἐρετμεύς,\nΠοντεύς τε Πρωρεύς τε, Θόων Ἀναβησίνεώς τε\nἈμφίαλός θʼ, υἱὸς Πολυνήου Τεκτονίδαο·\nἂν δὲ καὶ Εὐρύαλος, βροτολοιγῷ ἶσος Ἄρηϊ,\nΝαυβολίδης, ὃς ἄριστος ἔην εἶδός τε δέμας τε\nπάντων Φαιήκων μετʼ ἀμύμονα Λαοδάμαντα.\nἂν δʼ ἔσταν τρεῖς παῖδες ἀμύμονος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nΛαοδάμας θʼ Ἅλιός τε καὶ ἀντίθεος Κλυτόνηος.\nοἱ δʼ ἦ τοι πρῶτον μὲν ἐπειρήσαντο πόδεσσι.\nτοῖσι δʼ ἀπὸ νύσσης τέτατο δρόμος· οἱ δʼ ἅμα πάντες\nκαρπαλίμως ἐπέτοντο κονίοντες πεδίοιο·\nτῶν δὲ θέειν ὄχʼ ἄριστος ἔην Κλυτόνηος ἀμύμων·\nὅσσον τʼ ἐν νειῷ οὖρον πέλει ἡμιόνοιιν,\nτόσσον ὑπεκπροθέων λαοὺς ἵκεθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἐλίποντο.\nοἱ δὲ παλαιμοσύνης ἀλεγεινῆς πειρήσαντο·\nτῇ δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύαλος ἀπεκαίνυτο πάντας ἀρίστους.\nἅλματι δʼ Ἀμφίαλος πάντων προφερέστατος ἦεν·\nδίσκῳ δʼ αὖ πάντων πολὺ φέρτατος ἦεν Ἐλατρεύς,\nπὺξ δʼ αὖ Λαοδάμας, ἀγαθὸς πάϊς Ἀλκινόοιο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντες ἐτέρφθησαν φρένʼ ἀέθλοις,\nτοῖς ἄρα Λαοδάμας μετέφη πάϊς Ἀλκινόοιο·\nδεῦτε, φίλοι, τὸν ξεῖνον ἐρώμεθα εἴ τινʼ ἄεθλον\nοἶδέ τε καὶ δεδάηκε. φυήν γε μὲν οὐ κακός ἐστι,\nμηρούς τε κνήμας τε καὶ ἄμφω χεῖρας ὕπερθεν\nαὐχένα τε στιβαρὸν μέγα τε σθένος· οὐδέ τι ἥβης\nδεύεται, ἀλλὰ κακοῖσι συνέρρηκται πολέεσσιν·\nοὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γέ τί φημι κακώτερον ἄλλο θαλάσσης\nἄνδρα γε συγχεῦαι, εἰ καὶ μάλα καρτερὸς εἴη.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύαλος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·\nΛαοδάμα, μάλα τοῦτο ἔπος κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.\nαὐτὸς νῦν προκάλεσσαι ἰὼν καὶ πέφραδε μῦθον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσʼ ἀγαθὸς πάϊς Ἀλκινόοιο,\nστῆ ῥʼ ἐς μέσσον ἰὼν καὶ Ὀδυσσῆα προσέειπε·\nδεῦρʼ ἄγε καὶ σύ, ξεῖνε πάτερ, πείρησαι ἀέθλων,\nεἴ τινά που δεδάηκας· ἔοικε δέ σʼ ἴδμεν ἀέθλους·\nοὐ μὲν γὰρ μεῖζον κλέος ἀνέρος ὄφρα κʼ ἔῃσιν,\nἤ ὅ τι ποσσίν τε ῥέξῃ καὶ χερσὶν ἑῇσιν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε πείρησαι, σκέδασον δʼ ἀπὸ κήδεα θυμοῦ.\nσοὶ δʼ ὁδὸς οὐκέτι δηρὸν ἀπέσσεται, ἀλλά τοι ἤδη\nνηῦς τε κατείρυσται καὶ ἐπαρτέες εἰσὶν ἑταῖροι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nΛαοδάμα, τί με ταῦτα κελεύετε κερτομέοντες;\nκήδεά μοι καὶ μᾶλλον ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἤ περ ἄεθλοι,\nὃς πρὶν μὲν μάλα πολλὰ πάθον καὶ πολλὰ μόγησα,\nνῦν δὲ μεθʼ ὑμετέρῃ ἀγορῇ νόστοιο χατίζων\nἧμαι, λισσόμενος βασιλῆά τε πάντα τε δῆμον.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύαλος ἀπαμείβετο νείκεσέ τʼ ἄντην·\nοὐ γάρ σʼ οὐδέ, ξεῖνε, δαήμονι φωτὶ ἐίσκω\nἄθλων, οἷά τε πολλὰ μετʼ ἀνθρώποισι πέλονται,\nἀλλὰ τῷ, ὅς θʼ ἅμα νηὶ πολυκλήιδι θαμίζων,\nἀρχὸς ναυτάων οἵ τε πρηκτῆρες ἔασιν,\nφόρτου τε μνήμων καὶ ἐπίσκοπος ᾖσιν ὁδαίων\nκερδέων θʼ ἁρπαλέων· οὐδʼ ἀθλητῆρι ἔοικας.\nτὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nξεῖνʼ, οὐ καλὸν ἔειπες· ἀτασθάλῳ ἀνδρὶ ἔοικας.\nοὕτως οὐ πάντεσσι θεοὶ χαρίεντα διδοῦσιν\nἀνδράσιν, οὔτε φυὴν οὔτʼ ἂρ φρένας οὔτʼ ἀγορητύν.\nἄλλος μὲν γάρ τʼ εἶδος ἀκιδνότερος πέλει ἀνήρ,\nἀλλὰ θεὸς μορφὴν ἔπεσι στέφει, οἱ δέ τʼ ἐς αὐτὸν\nτερπόμενοι λεύσσουσιν· ὁ δʼ ἀσφαλέως ἀγορεύει\nαἰδοῖ μειλιχίῃ, μετὰ δὲ πρέπει ἀγρομένοισιν,\nἐρχόμενον δʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ θεὸν ὣς εἰσορόωσιν.\nἄλλος δʼ αὖ εἶδος μὲν ἀλίγκιος ἀθανάτοισιν,\nἀλλʼ οὔ οἱ χάρις ἀμφιπεριστέφεται ἐπέεσσιν,\nὡς καὶ σοὶ εἶδος μὲν ἀριπρεπές, οὐδέ κεν ἄλλως\nοὐδὲ θεὸς τεύξειε, νόον δʼ ἀποφώλιός ἐσσι.\nὤρινάς μοι θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισιν\nεἰπὼν οὐ κατὰ κόσμον. ἐγὼ δʼ οὐ νῆις ἀέθλων,\nὡς σύ γε μυθεῖαι, ἀλλʼ ἐν πρώτοισιν ὀίω\nἔμμεναι, ὄφρʼ ἥβῃ τε πεποίθεα χερσί τʼ ἐμῇσι.\nνῦν δʼ ἔχομαι κακότητι καὶ ἄλγεσι· πολλὰ γὰρ ἔτλην\nἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων.\nἀλλὰ καὶ ὥς, κακὰ πολλὰ παθών, πειρήσομʼ ἀέθλων·\nθυμοδακὴς γὰρ μῦθος, ἐπώτρυνας δέ με εἰπών.\nἦ ῥα καὶ αὐτῷ φάρει ἀναΐξας λάβε δίσκον\nμείζονα καὶ πάχετον, στιβαρώτερον οὐκ ὀλίγον περ\nἢ οἵῳ Φαίηκες ἐδίσκεον ἀλλήλοισι.\nτόν ῥα περιστρέψας ἧκε στιβαρῆς ἀπὸ χειρός,\nβόμβησεν δὲ λίθος· κατὰ δʼ ἔπτηξαν ποτὶ γαίῃ\nΦαίηκες δολιχήρετμοι, ναυσίκλυτοι ἄνδρες,\nλᾶος ὑπὸ ῥιπῆς· ὁ δʼ ὑπέρπτατο σήματα πάντων\nῥίμφα θέων ἀπὸ χειρός. ἔθηκε δὲ τέρματʼ Ἀθήνη\nἀνδρὶ δέμας ἐικυῖα, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nκαί κʼ ἀλαός τοι, ξεῖνε, διακρίνειε τὸ σῆμα\nἀμφαφόων, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι μεμιγμένον ἐστὶν ὁμίλῳ,\nἀλλὰ πολὺ πρῶτον. σὺ δὲ θάρσει τόνδε γʼ ἄεθλον·\nοὔ τις Φαιήκων τόδε γʼ ἵξεται, οὐδʼ ὑπερήσει.\nὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nχαίρων, οὕνεχʼ ἑταῖρον ἐνηέα λεῦσσʼ ἐν ἀγῶνι.\nκαὶ τότε κουφότερον μετεφώνεε Φαιήκεσσιν·\nτοῦτον νῦν ἀφίκεσθε, νέοι. τάχα δʼ ὕστερον ἄλλον\nἥσειν ἢ τοσσοῦτον ὀίομαι ἢ ἔτι μᾶσσον.\nτῶν δʼ ἄλλων ὅτινα κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει,\nδεῦρʼ ἄγε πειρηθήτω, ἐπεί μʼ ἐχολώσατε λίην,\nἢ πὺξ ἠὲ πάλῃ ἢ καὶ ποσίν, οὔ τι μεγαίρω,\nπάντων Φαιήκων, πλήν γʼ αὐτοῦ Λαοδάμαντος.\nξεῖνος γάρ μοι ὅδʼ ἐστί· τίς ἂν φιλέοντι μάχοιτο;\nἄφρων δὴ κεῖνός γε καὶ οὐτιδανὸς πέλει ἀνήρ,\nὅς τις ξεινοδόκῳ ἔριδα προφέρηται ἀέθλων\nδήμῳ ἐν ἀλλοδαπῷ· ἕο δʼ αὐτοῦ πάντα κολούει.\nτῶν δʼ ἄλλων οὔ πέρ τινʼ ἀναίνομαι οὐδʼ ἀθερίζω,\nἀλλʼ ἐθέλω ἴδμεν καὶ πειρηθήμεναι ἄντην.\nπάντα γὰρ οὐ κακός εἰμι, μετʼ ἀνδράσιν ὅσσοι ἄεθλοι·\nεὖ μὲν τόξον οἶδα ἐύξοον ἀμφαφάασθαι·\nπρῶτός κʼ ἄνδρα βάλοιμι ὀιστεύσας ἐν ὁμίλῳ\nἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων, εἰ καὶ μάλα πολλοὶ ἑταῖροι\nἄγχι παρασταῖεν καὶ τοξαζοίατο φωτῶν.\nοἶος δή με Φιλοκτήτης ἀπεκαίνυτο τόξῳ\nδήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅτε τοξαζοίμεθʼ Ἀχαιοί.\nτῶν δʼ ἄλλων ἐμέ φημι πολὺ προφερέστερον εἶναι,\nὅσσοι νῦν βροτοί εἰσιν ἐπὶ χθονὶ σῖτον ἔδοντες.\nἀνδράσι δὲ προτέροισιν ἐριζέμεν οὐκ ἐθελήσω,\nοὔθʼ Ἡρακλῆι οὔτʼ Εὐρύτῳ Οἰχαλιῆι,\nοἵ ῥα καὶ ἀθανάτοισιν ἐρίζεσκον περὶ τόξων.\nτῷ ῥα καὶ αἶψʼ ἔθανεν μέγας Εὔρυτος, οὐδʼ ἐπὶ γῆρας\nἵκετʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι· χολωσάμενος γὰρ Ἀπόλλων\nἔκτανεν, οὕνεκά μιν προκαλίζετο τοξάζεσθαι.\nδουρὶ δʼ ἀκοντίζω ὅσον οὐκ ἄλλος τις ὀιστῷ.\nοἴοισιν δείδοικα ποσὶν μή τίς με παρέλθῃ\nΦαιήκων· λίην γὰρ ἀεικελίως ἐδαμάσθην\nκύμασιν ἐν πολλοῖς, ἐπεὶ οὐ κομιδὴ κατὰ νῆα\nἦεν ἐπηετανός· τῷ μοι φίλα γυῖα λέλυνται.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ.\nἈλκίνοος δέ μιν οἶος ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·\nξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἀχάριστα μεθʼ ἡμῖν ταῦτʼ ἀγορεύεις,\nἀλλʼ ἐθέλεις ἀρετὴν σὴν φαινέμεν, ἥ τοι ὀπηδεῖ,\nχωόμενος ὅτι σʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ ἐν ἀγῶνι παραστὰς\nνείκεσεν, ὡς ἂν σὴν ἀρετὴν βροτὸς οὔ τις ὄνοιτο,\nὅς τις ἐπίσταιτο ᾗσι φρεσὶν ἄρτια βάζειν·\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἐμέθεν ξυνίει ἔπος, ὄφρα καὶ ἄλλῳ\nεἴπῃς ἡρώων, ὅτε κεν σοῖς ἐν μεγάροισι\nδαινύῃ παρὰ σῇ τʼ ἀλόχῳ καὶ σοῖσι τέκεσσιν,\nἡμετέρης ἀρετῆς μεμνημένος, οἷα καὶ ἡμῖν\nΖεὺς ἐπὶ ἔργα τίθησι διαμπερὲς ἐξ ἔτι πατρῶν.\nοὐ γὰρ πυγμάχοι εἰμὲν ἀμύμονες οὐδὲ παλαισταί,\nἀλλὰ ποσὶ κραιπνῶς θέομεν καὶ νηυσὶν ἄριστοι,\nαἰεὶ δʼ ἡμῖν δαίς τε φίλη κίθαρίς τε χοροί τε\nεἵματά τʼ ἐξημοιβὰ λοετρά τε θερμὰ καὶ εὐναί.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε, Φαιήκων βητάρμονες ὅσσοι ἄριστοι,\nπαίσατε, ὥς χʼ ὁ ξεῖνος ἐνίσπῃ οἷσι φίλοισιν\nοἴκαδε νοστήσας, ὅσσον περιγιγνόμεθʼ ἄλλων\nναυτιλίῃ καὶ ποσσὶ καὶ ὀρχηστυῖ καὶ ἀοιδῇ.\nΔημοδόκῳ δέ τις αἶψα κιὼν φόρμιγγα λίγειαν\nοἰσέτω, ἥ που κεῖται ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισιν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀλκίνοος θεοείκελος, ὦρτο δὲ κῆρυξ\nοἴσων φόρμιγγα γλαφυρὴν δόμου ἐκ βασιλῆος.\nαἰσυμνῆται δὲ κριτοὶ ἐννέα πάντες ἀνέσταν\nδήμιοι, οἳ κατʼ ἀγῶνας ἐὺ πρήσσεσκον ἕκαστα,\nλείηναν δὲ χορόν, καλὸν δʼ εὔρυναν ἀγῶνα.\nκῆρυξ δʼ ἐγγύθεν ἦλθε φέρων φόρμιγγα λίγειαν\nΔημοδόκῳ· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα κίʼ ἐς μέσον· ἀμφὶ δὲ κοῦροι\nπρωθῆβαι ἵσταντο, δαήμονες ὀρχηθμοῖο,\nπέπληγον δὲ χορὸν θεῖον ποσίν. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nμαρμαρυγὰς θηεῖτο ποδῶν, θαύμαζε δὲ θυμῷ.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ φορμίζων ἀνεβάλλετο καλὸν ἀείδειν\nἀμφʼ Ἄρεος φιλότητος εὐστεφάνου τʼ Ἀφροδίτης,\nὡς τὰ πρῶτα μίγησαν ἐν Ἡφαίστοιο δόμοισι\nλάθρῃ, πολλὰ δʼ ἔδωκε, λέχος δʼ ᾔσχυνε καὶ εὐνὴν\nἩφαίστοιο ἄνακτος. ἄφαρ δέ οἱ ἄγγελος ἦλθεν\nἭλιος, ὅ σφʼ ἐνόησε μιγαζομένους φιλότητι.\nἭφαιστος δʼ ὡς οὖν θυμαλγέα μῦθον ἄκουσε,\nβῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐς χαλκεῶνα κακὰ φρεσὶ βυσσοδομεύων,\nἐν δʼ ἔθετʼ ἀκμοθέτῳ μέγαν ἄκμονα, κόπτε δὲ δεσμοὺς\nἀρρήκτους ἀλύτους, ὄφρʼ ἔμπεδον αὖθι μένοιεν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τεῦξε δόλον κεχολωμένος Ἄρει,\nβῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐς θάλαμον, ὅθι οἱ φίλα δέμνιʼ ἔκειτο,\nἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἑρμῖσιν χέε δέσματα κύκλῳ ἁπάντῃ·\nπολλὰ δὲ καὶ καθύπερθε μελαθρόφιν ἐξεκέχυντο,\nἠύτʼ ἀράχνια λεπτά, τά γʼ οὔ κέ τις οὐδὲ ἴδοιτο,\nοὐδὲ θεῶν μακάρων· πέρι γὰρ δολόεντα τέτυκτο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα δόλον περὶ δέμνια χεῦεν,\nεἴσατʼ ἴμεν ἐς Λῆμνον, ἐυκτίμενον πτολίεθρον,\nἥ οἱ γαιάων πολὺ φιλτάτη ἐστὶν ἁπασέων.\nοὐδʼ ἀλαοσκοπιὴν εἶχε χρυσήνιος Ἄρης,\nὡς ἴδεν Ἥφαιστον κλυτοτέχνην νόσφι κιόντα·\nβῆ δʼ ἰέναι πρὸς δῶμα περικλυτοῦ Ἡφαίστοιο\nἰσχανόων φιλότητος ἐυστεφάνου Κυθερείης.\nἡ δὲ νέον παρὰ πατρὸς ἐρισθενέος Κρονίωνος\nἐρχομένη κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζεθʼ· ὁ δʼ εἴσω δώματος ᾔει,\nἔν τʼ ἄρα οἱ φῦ χειρί, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·\nδεῦρο, φίλη, λέκτρονδε τραπείομεν εὐνηθέντες·\nοὐ γὰρ ἔθʼ Ἥφαιστος μεταδήμιος, ἀλλά που ἤδη\nοἴχεται ἐς Λῆμνον μετὰ Σίντιας ἀγριοφώνους.\nὣς φάτο, τῇ δʼ ἀσπαστὸν ἐείσατο κοιμηθῆναι.\nτὼ δʼ ἐς δέμνια βάντε κατέδραθον· ἀμφὶ δὲ δεσμοὶ\nτεχνήεντες ἔχυντο πολύφρονος Ἡφαίστοιο,\nοὐδέ τι κινῆσαι μελέων ἦν οὐδʼ ἀναεῖραι.\nκαὶ τότε δὴ γίγνωσκον, ὅ τʼ οὐκέτι φυκτὰ πέλοντο.\nἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε περικλυτὸς ἀμφιγυήεις,\nαὖτις ὑποστρέψας πρὶν Λήμνου γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·\nἨέλιος γάρ οἱ σκοπιὴν ἔχεν εἶπέ τε μῦθον.\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεναι πρὸς δῶμα φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ·\nἔστη δʼ ἐν προθύροισι, χόλος δέ μιν ἄγριος ᾕρει·\nσμερδαλέον δʼ ἐβόησε, γέγωνέ τε πᾶσι θεοῖσιν·\nΖεῦ πάτερ ἠδʼ ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,\nδεῦθʼ, ἵνα ἔργα γελαστὰ καὶ οὐκ ἐπιεικτὰ ἴδησθε,\nὡς ἐμὲ χωλὸν ἐόντα Διὸς θυγάτηρ Ἀφροδίτη\nαἰὲν ἀτιμάζει, φιλέει δʼ ἀίδηλον Ἄρηα,\nοὕνεχʼ ὁ μὲν καλός τε καὶ ἀρτίπος, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε\nἠπεδανὸς γενόμην. ἀτὰρ οὔ τί μοι αἴτιος ἄλλος,\nἀλλὰ τοκῆε δύω, τὼ μὴ γείνασθαι ὄφελλον.\nἀλλʼ ὄψεσθʼ, ἵνα τώ γε καθεύδετον ἐν φιλότητι\nεἰς ἐμὰ δέμνια βάντες, ἐγὼ δʼ ὁρόων ἀκάχημαι.\nοὐ μέν σφεας ἔτʼ ἔολπα μίνυνθά γε κειέμεν οὕτως\nκαὶ μάλα περ φιλέοντε· τάχʼ οὐκ ἐθελήσετον ἄμφω\nεὕδειν· ἀλλά σφωε δόλος καὶ δεσμὸς ἐρύξει,\nεἰς ὅ κέ μοι μάλα πάντα πατὴρ ἀποδῷσιν ἔεδνα,\nὅσσα οἱ ἐγγυάλιξα κυνώπιδος εἵνεκα κούρης,\nοὕνεκά οἱ καλὴ θυγάτηρ, ἀτὰρ οὐκ ἐχέθυμος.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἀγέροντο θεοὶ ποτὶ χαλκοβατὲς δῶ·\nἦλθε Ποσειδάων γαιήοχος, ἦλθʼ ἐριούνης\nἙρμείας, ἦλθεν δὲ ἄναξ ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων.\nθηλύτεραι δὲ θεαὶ μένον αἰδοῖ οἴκοι ἑκάστη.\nἔσταν δʼ ἐν προθύροισι θεοί, δωτῆρες ἑάων·\nἄσβεστος δʼ ἄρʼ ἐνῶρτο γέλως μακάρεσσι θεοῖσι\nτέχνας εἰσορόωσι πολύφρονος Ἡφαίστοιο.\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·\nοὐκ ἀρετᾷ κακὰ ἔργα· κιχάνει τοι βραδὺς ὠκύν,\nὡς καὶ νῦν Ἥφαιστος ἐὼν βραδὺς εἷλεν Ἄρηα\nὠκύτατόν περ ἐόντα θεῶν οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν,\nχωλὸς ἐὼν τέχνῃσι· τὸ καὶ μοιχάγριʼ ὀφέλλει.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·\nἙρμῆν δὲ προσέειπεν ἄναξ Διὸς υἱὸς Ἀπόλλων·\nἙρμεία, Διὸς υἱέ, διάκτορε, δῶτορ ἑάων,\nἦ ῥά κεν ἐν δεσμοῖς ἐθέλοις κρατεροῖσι πιεσθεὶς\nεὕδειν ἐν λέκτροισι παρὰ χρυσέῃ Ἀφροδίτῃ;\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης·\nαἲ γὰρ τοῦτο γένοιτο, ἄναξ ἑκατηβόλʼ Ἄπολλον·\nδεσμοὶ μὲν τρὶς τόσσοι ἀπείρονες ἀμφὶς ἔχοιεν,\nὑμεῖς δʼ εἰσορόῳτε θεοὶ πᾶσαί τε θέαιναι,\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν εὕδοιμι παρὰ χρυσέῃ Ἀφροδίτῃ.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, ἐν δὲ γέλως ὦρτʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν.\nοὐδὲ Ποσειδάωνα γέλως ἔχε, λίσσετο δʼ αἰεὶ\nἭφαιστον κλυτοεργὸν ὅπως λύσειεν Ἄρηα.\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nλῦσον· ἐγὼ δέ τοι αὐτὸν ὑπίσχομαι, ὡς σὺ κελεύεις,\nτίσειν αἴσιμα πάντα μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περικλυτὸς ἀμφιγυήεις·\nμή με, Ποσείδαον γαιήοχε, ταῦτα κέλευε·\nδειλαί τοι δειλῶν γε καὶ ἐγγύαι ἐγγυάασθαι.\nπῶς ἂν ἐγώ σε δέοιμι μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν,\nεἴ κεν Ἄρης οἴχοιτο χρέος καὶ δεσμὸν ἀλύξας;\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων·\nἭφαιστʼ, εἴ περ γάρ κεν Ἄρης χρεῖος ὑπαλύξας\nοἴχηται φεύγων, αὐτός τοι ἐγὼ τάδε τίσω.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περικλυτὸς ἀμφιγυήεις·\nοὐκ ἔστʼ οὐδὲ ἔοικε τεὸν ἔπος ἀρνήσασθαι.\nὣς εἰπὼν δεσμὸν ἀνίει μένος Ἡφαίστοιο.\nτὼ δʼ ἐπεὶ ἐκ δεσμοῖο λύθεν, κρατεροῦ περ ἐόντος,\nαὐτίκʼ ἀναΐξαντε ὁ μὲν Θρῄκηνδε βεβήκει,\nἡ δʼ ἄρα Κύπρον ἵκανε φιλομμειδὴς Ἀφροδίτη,\nἐς Πάφον· ἔνθα δέ οἱ τέμενος βωμός τε θυήεις.\nἔνθα δέ μιν Χάριτες λοῦσαν καὶ χρῖσαν ἐλαίῳ\nἀμβρότῳ, οἷα θεοὺς ἐπενήνοθεν αἰὲν ἐόντας,\nἀμφὶ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσαν ἐπήρατα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι.\nταῦτʼ ἄρʼ ἀοιδὸς ἄειδε περικλυτός· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nτέρπετʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἀκούων ἠδὲ καὶ ἄλλοι\nΦαίηκες δολιχήρετμοι, ναυσίκλυτοι ἄνδρες.\nἈλκίνοος δʼ Ἅλιον καὶ Λαοδάμαντα κέλευσεν\nμουνὰξ ὀρχήσασθαι, ἐπεί σφισιν οὔ τις ἔριζεν.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν σφαῖραν καλὴν μετὰ χερσὶν ἕλοντο,\nπορφυρέην, τήν σφιν Πόλυβος ποίησε δαΐφρων,\nτὴν ἕτερος ῥίπτασκε ποτὶ νέφεα σκιόεντα\nἰδνωθεὶς ὀπίσω, ὁ δʼ ἀπὸ χθονὸς ὑψόσʼ ἀερθεὶς\nῥηιδίως μεθέλεσκε, πάρος ποσὶν οὖδας ἱκέσθαι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ σφαίρῃ ἀνʼ ἰθὺν πειρήσαντο,\nὠρχείσθην δὴ ἔπειτα ποτὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ\nταρφέʼ ἀμειβομένω· κοῦροι δʼ ἐπελήκεον ἄλλοι\nἑστεῶτες κατʼ ἀγῶνα, πολὺς δʼ ὑπὸ κόμπος ὀρώρει.\nδὴ τότʼ ἄρʼ Ἀλκίνοον προσεφώνεε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἈλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,\nἠμὲν ἀπείλησας βητάρμονας εἶναι ἀρίστους,\nἠδʼ ἄρʼ ἑτοῖμα τέτυκτο· σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.\nὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nαἶψα δὲ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μετηύδα·\nκέκλυτε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες.\nὁ ξεῖνος μάλα μοι δοκέει πεπνυμένος εἶναι.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ δῶμεν ξεινήιον, ὡς ἐπιεικές.\nδώδεκα γὰρ κατὰ δῆμον ἀριπρεπέες βασιλῆες\nἀρχοὶ κραίνουσι, τρισκαιδέκατος δʼ ἐγὼ αὐτός·\nτῶν οἱ ἕκαστος φᾶρος ἐυπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα\nκαὶ χρυσοῖο τάλαντον ἐνείκατε τιμήεντος.\nαἶψα δὲ πάντα φέρωμεν ἀολλέα, ὄφρʼ ἐνὶ χερσὶν\nξεῖνος ἔχων ἐπὶ δόρπον ἴῃ χαίρων ἐνὶ θυμῷ.\nΕὐρύαλος δέ ἑ αὐτὸν ἀρεσσάσθω ἐπέεσσι\nκαὶ δώρῳ, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι ἔπος κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπεν.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον,\nδῶρα δʼ ἄρʼ οἰσέμεναι πρόεσαν κήρυκα ἕκαστος.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύαλος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·\nἈλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,\nτοιγὰρ ἐγὼ τὸν ξεῖνον ἀρέσσομαι, ὡς σὺ κελεύεις.\nδώσω οἱ τόδʼ ἄορ παγχάλκεον, ᾧ ἔπι κώπη\nἀργυρέη, κολεὸν δὲ νεοπρίστου ἐλέφαντος\nἀμφιδεδίνηται· πολέος δέ οἱ ἄξιον ἔσται.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἐν χερσὶ τίθει ξίφος ἀργυρόηλον\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nχαῖρε, πάτερ ὦ ξεῖνε· ἔπος δʼ εἴ πέρ τι βέβακται\nδεινόν, ἄφαρ τὸ φέροιεν ἀναρπάξασαι ἄελλαι.\nσοὶ δὲ θεοὶ ἄλοχόν τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ πατρίδʼ ἱκέσθαι\nδοῖεν, ἐπεὶ δὴ δηθὰ φίλων ἄπο πήματα πάσχεις.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nκαὶ σὺ φίλος μάλα χαῖρε, θεοὶ δέ τοι ὄλβια δοῖεν.\nμηδέ τι τοι ξίφεός γε ποθὴ μετόπισθε γένοιτο\nτούτου, ὃ δή μοι δῶκας ἀρεσσάμενος ἐπέεσσιν.\nἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισι θέτο ξίφος ἀργυρόηλον.\nδύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος, καὶ τῷ κλυτὰ δῶρα παρῆεν.\nκαὶ τά γʼ ἐς Ἀλκινόοιο φέρον κήρυκες ἀγαυοί·\nδεξάμενοι δʼ ἄρα παῖδες ἀμύμονος Ἀλκινόοιο\nμητρὶ παρʼ αἰδοίῃ ἔθεσαν περικαλλέα δῶρα.\nτοῖσιν δʼ ἡγεμόνευʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nἐλθόντες δὲ καθῖζον ἐν ὑψηλοῖσι θρόνοισι.\nδή ῥα τότʼ Ἀρήτην προσέφη μένος Ἀλκινόοιο·\nδεῦρο, γύναι, φέρε χηλὸν ἀριπρεπέʼ, ἥ τις ἀρίστη·\nἐν δʼ αὐτὴ θὲς φᾶρος ἐυπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα.\nἀμφὶ δέ οἱ πυρὶ χαλκὸν ἰήνατε, θέρμετε δʼ ὕδωρ,\nὄφρα λοεσσάμενός τε ἰδών τʼ ἐὺ κείμενα πάντα\nδῶρα, τά οἱ Φαίηκες ἀμύμονες ἐνθάδʼ ἔνεικαν,\nδαιτί τε τέρπηται καὶ ἀοιδῆς ὕμνον ἀκούων.\nκαί οἱ ἐγὼ τόδʼ ἄλεισον ἐμὸν περικαλλὲς ὀπάσσω,\nχρύσεον, ὄφρʼ ἐμέθεν μεμνημένος ἤματα πάντα\nσπένδῃ ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ Διί τʼ ἄλλοισίν τε θεοῖσιν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀρήτη δὲ μετὰ δμῳῇσιν ἔειπεν\nἀμφὶ πυρὶ στῆσαι τρίποδα μέγαν ὅττι τάχιστα.\nαἱ δὲ λοετροχόον τρίποδʼ ἵστασαν ἐν πυρὶ κηλέῳ,\nἔν δʼ ἄρʼ ὕδωρ ἔχεαν, ὑπὸ δὲ ξύλα δαῖον ἑλοῦσαι.\nγάστρην μὲν τρίποδος πῦρ ἄμφεπε, θέρμετο δʼ ὕδωρ·\nτόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀρήτη ξείνῳ περικαλλέα χηλὸν\nἐξέφερεν θαλάμοιο, τίθει δʼ ἐνὶ κάλλιμα δῶρα,\nἐσθῆτα χρυσόν τε, τά οἱ Φαίηκες ἔδωκαν·\nἐν δʼ αὐτὴ φᾶρος θῆκεν καλόν τε χιτῶνα,\nκαί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nαὐτὸς νῦν ἴδε πῶμα, θοῶς δʼ ἐπὶ δεσμὸν ἴηλον,\nμή τίς τοι καθʼ ὁδὸν δηλήσεται, ὁππότʼ ἂν αὖτε\nεὕδῃσθα γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἰὼν ἐν νηὶ μελαίνῃ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nαὐτίκʼ ἐπήρτυε πῶμα, θοῶς δʼ ἐπὶ δεσμὸν ἴηλεν\nποικίλον, ὅν ποτέ μιν δέδαε φρεσὶ πότνια Κίρκη·\nαὐτόδιον δʼ ἄρα μιν ταμίη λούσασθαι ἀνώγει\nἔς ῥʼ ἀσάμινθον βάνθʼ· ὁ δʼ ἄρ ἀσπασίως ἴδε θυμῷ\nθερμὰ λοέτρʼ, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι κομιζόμενός γε θάμιζεν,\nἐπεὶ δὴ λίπε δῶμα Καλυψοῦς ἠυκόμοιο.\nτόφρα δέ οἱ κομιδή γε θεῷ ὣς ἔμπεδος ἦεν.\nτὸν δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δμῳαὶ λοῦσαν καὶ χρῖσαν ἐλαίῳ,\nἀμφὶ δέ μιν χλαῖναν καλὴν βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,\nἔκ ῥʼ ἀσαμίνθου βὰς ἄνδρας μέτα οἰνοποτῆρας\nἤιε· Ναυσικάα δὲ θεῶν ἄπο κάλλος ἔχουσα\nστῆ ῥα παρὰ σταθμὸν τέγεος πύκα ποιητοῖο,\nθαύμαζεν δʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶσα,\nκαί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nχαῖρε, ξεῖνʼ, ἵνα καί ποτʼ ἐὼν ἐν πατρίδι γαίῃ\nμνήσῃ ἐμεῦ, ὅτι μοι πρώτῃ ζωάγριʼ ὀφέλλεις.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς.\nΝαυσικάα θύγατερ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nοὕτω νῦν Ζεὺς θείη, ἐρίγδουπος πόσις Ἥρης,\nοἴκαδέ τʼ ἐλθέμεναι καὶ νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἰδέσθαι·\nτῷ κέν τοι καὶ κεῖθι θεῷ ὣς εὐχετοῴμην\nαἰεὶ ἤματα πάντα· σὺ γάρ μʼ ἐβιώσαο, κούρη.\nἦ ῥα καὶ ἐς θρόνον ἷζε παρʼ Ἀλκίνοον βασιλῆα·\nοἱ δʼ ἤδη μοίρας τʼ ἔνεμον κερόωντό τε οἶνον.\nκῆρυξ δʼ ἐγγύθεν ἦλθεν ἄγων ἐρίηρον ἀοιδόν,\nΔημόδοκον λαοῖσι τετιμένον· εἷσε δʼ ἄρʼ αὐτὸν\nμέσσῳ δαιτυμόνων, πρὸς κίονα μακρὸν ἐρείσας.\nδὴ τότε κήρυκα προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς,\nνώτου ἀποπροταμών, ἐπὶ δὲ πλεῖον ἐλέλειπτο,\nἀργιόδοντος ὑός, θαλερὴ δʼ ἦν ἀμφὶς ἀλοιφή·\nκῆρυξ, τῆ δή, τοῦτο πόρε κρέας, ὄφρα φάγῃσιν,\nΔημοδόκῳ· καί μιν προσπτύξομαι ἀχνύμενός περ·\nπᾶσι γὰρ ἀνθρώποισιν ἐπιχθονίοισιν ἀοιδοὶ\nτιμῆς ἔμμοροί εἰσι καὶ αἰδοῦς, οὕνεκʼ ἄρα σφέας\nοἴμας μοῦσʼ ἐδίδαξε, φίλησε δὲ φῦλον ἀοιδῶν.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, κῆρυξ δὲ φέρων ἐν χερσὶν ἔθηκεν\nἥρῳ Δημοδόκῳ· ὁ δʼ ἐδέξατο, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nδὴ τότε Δημόδοκον προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nΔημόδοκʼ, ἔξοχα δή σε βροτῶν αἰνίζομʼ ἁπάντων.\nἢ σέ γε μοῦσʼ ἐδίδαξε, Διὸς πάϊς, ἢ σέ γʼ Ἀπόλλων·\nλίην γὰρ κατὰ κόσμον Ἀχαιῶν οἶτον ἀείδεις,\nὅσσʼ ἔρξαν τʼ ἔπαθόν τε καὶ ὅσσʼ ἐμόγησαν Ἀχαιοί,\nὥς τέ που ἢ αὐτὸς παρεὼν ἢ ἄλλου ἀκούσας.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε δὴ μετάβηθι καὶ ἵππου κόσμον ἄεισον\nδουρατέου, τὸν Ἐπειὸς ἐποίησεν σὺν Ἀθήνῃ,\nὅν ποτʼ ἐς ἀκρόπολιν δόλον ἤγαγε δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἀνδρῶν ἐμπλήσας οἵ ῥʼ Ἴλιον ἐξαλάπαξαν.\nαἴ κεν δή μοι ταῦτα κατὰ μοῖραν καταλέξῃς,\nαὐτίκʼ ἐγὼ πᾶσιν μυθήσομαι ἀνθρώποισιν,\nὡς ἄρα τοι πρόφρων θεὸς ὤπασε θέσπιν ἀοιδήν.\nὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ ὁρμηθεὶς θεοῦ ἤρχετο, φαῖνε δʼ ἀοιδήν,\nἔνθεν ἑλὼν ὡς οἱ μὲν ἐυσσέλμων ἐπὶ νηῶν\nβάντες ἀπέπλειον, πῦρ ἐν κλισίῃσι βαλόντες,\nἈργεῖοι, τοὶ δʼ ἤδη ἀγακλυτὸν ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα\nἥατʼ ἐνὶ Τρώων ἀγορῇ κεκαλυμμένοι ἵππῳ·\nαὐτοὶ γάρ μιν Τρῶες ἐς ἀκρόπολιν ἐρύσαντο.\nὣς ὁ μὲν ἑστήκει, τοὶ δʼ ἄκριτα πόλλʼ ἀγόρευον\nἥμενοι ἀμφʼ αὐτόν· τρίχα δέ σφισιν ἥνδανε βουλή,\nἠὲ διαπλῆξαι κοῖλον δόρυ νηλέι χαλκῷ,\nἢ κατὰ πετράων βαλέειν ἐρύσαντας ἐπʼ ἄκρης,\nἢ ἐάαν μέγʼ ἄγαλμα θεῶν θελκτήριον εἶναι,\nτῇ περ δὴ καὶ ἔπειτα τελευτήσεσθαι ἔμελλεν·\nαἶσα γὰρ ἦν ἀπολέσθαι, ἐπὴν πόλις ἀμφικαλύψῃ\nδουράτεον μέγαν ἵππον, ὅθʼ ἥατο πάντες ἄριστοι\nἈργείων Τρώεσσι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φέροντες.\nἤειδεν δʼ ὡς ἄστυ διέπραθον υἷες Ἀχαιῶν\nἱππόθεν ἐκχύμενοι, κοῖλον λόχον ἐκπρολιπόντες.\nἄλλον δʼ ἄλλῃ ἄειδε πόλιν κεραϊζέμεν αἰπήν,\nαὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆα προτὶ δώματα Δηιφόβοιο\nβήμεναι, ἠύτʼ Ἄρηα σὺν ἀντιθέῳ Μενελάῳ.\nκεῖθι δὴ αἰνότατον πόλεμον φάτο τολμήσαντα\nνικῆσαι καὶ ἔπειτα διὰ μεγάθυμον Ἀθήνην.\nταῦτʼ ἄρʼ ἀοιδὸς ἄειδε περικλυτός· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nτήκετο, δάκρυ δʼ ἔδευεν ὑπὸ βλεφάροισι παρειάς.\nὡς δὲ γυνὴ κλαίῃσι φίλον πόσιν ἀμφιπεσοῦσα,\nὅς τε ἑῆς πρόσθεν πόλιος λαῶν τε πέσῃσιν,\nἄστεϊ καὶ τεκέεσσιν ἀμύνων νηλεὲς ἦμαρ·\nἡ μὲν τὸν θνήσκοντα καὶ ἀσπαίροντα ἰδοῦσα\nἀμφʼ αὐτῷ χυμένη λίγα κωκύει· οἱ δέ τʼ ὄπισθε\nκόπτοντες δούρεσσι μετάφρενον ἠδὲ καὶ ὤμους\nεἴρερον εἰσανάγουσι, πόνον τʼ ἐχέμεν καὶ ὀιζύν·\nτῆς δʼ ἐλεεινοτάτῳ ἄχεϊ φθινύθουσι παρειαί·\nὣς Ὀδυσεὺς ἐλεεινὸν ὑπʼ ὀφρύσι δάκρυον εἶβεν.\nἔνθʼ ἄλλους μὲν πάντας ἐλάνθανε δάκρυα λείβων,\nἈλκίνοος δέ μιν οἶος ἐπεφράσατʼ ἠδʼ ἐνόησεν,\nἥμενος ἄγχʼ αὐτοῦ, βαρὺ δὲ στενάχοντος ἄκουσεν.\nαἶψα δὲ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μετηύδα·\nκέκλυτε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,\nΔημόδοκος δʼ ἤδη σχεθέτω φόρμιγγα λίγειαν·\nοὐ γάρ πως πάντεσσι χαριζόμενος τάδʼ ἀείδει.\nἐξ οὗ δορπέομέν τε καὶ ὤρορε θεῖος ἀοιδός,\nἐκ τοῦ δʼ οὔ πω παύσατʼ ὀιζυροῖο γόοιο\nὁ ξεῖνος· μάλα πού μιν ἄχος φρένας ἀμφιβέβηκεν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ὁ μὲν σχεθέτω, ἵνʼ ὁμῶς τερπώμεθα πάντες,\nξεινοδόκοι καὶ ξεῖνος, ἐπεὶ πολὺ κάλλιον οὕτως·\nεἵνεκα γὰρ ξείνοιο τάδʼ αἰδοίοιο τέτυκται,\nπομπὴ καὶ φίλα δῶρα, τά οἱ δίδομεν φιλέοντες.\nἀντὶ κασιγνήτου ξεῖνός θʼ ἱκέτης τε τέτυκται\nἀνέρι, ὅς τʼ ὀλίγον περ ἐπιψαύῃ πραπίδεσσι.\nτῷ νῦν μηδὲ σὺ κεῦθε νοήμασι κερδαλέοισιν\nὅττι κέ σʼ εἴρωμαι· φάσθαι δέ σε κάλλιόν ἐστιν.\nεἴπʼ ὄνομʼ ὅττι σε κεῖθι κάλεον μήτηρ τε πατήρ τε\nἄλλοι θʼ οἳ κατὰ ἄστυ καὶ οἳ περιναιετάουσιν.\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τις πάμπαν ἀνώνυμός ἐστʼ ἀνθρώπων,\nοὐ κακὸς οὐδὲ μὲν ἐσθλός, ἐπὴν τὰ πρῶτα γένηται,\nἀλλʼ ἐπὶ πᾶσι τίθενται, ἐπεί κε τέκωσι, τοκῆες.\nεἰπὲ δέ μοι γαῖάν τε· τεὴν δῆμόν τε πόλιν τε,\nὄφρα σε τῇ πέμπωσι τιτυσκόμεναι φρεσὶ νῆες·\nοὐ γὰρ Φαιήκεσσι κυβερνητῆρες ἔασιν,\nοὐδέ τι πηδάλιʼ ἔστι, τά τʼ ἄλλαι νῆες ἔχουσιν·\nἀλλʼ αὐταὶ ἴσασι νοήματα καὶ φρένας ἀνδρῶν,\nκαὶ πάντων ἴσασι πόλιας καὶ πίονας ἀγροὺς\nἀνθρώπων, καὶ λαῖτμα τάχισθʼ ἁλὸς ἐκπερόωσιν\nἠέρι καὶ νεφέλῃ κεκαλυμμέναι· οὐδέ ποτέ σφιν\nοὔτε τι πημανθῆναι ἔπι δέος οὔτʼ ἀπολέσθαι.\nἀλλὰ τόδʼ ὥς ποτε πατρὸς ἐγὼν εἰπόντος ἄκουσα\nΝαυσιθόου, ὃς ἔφασκε Ποσειδάωνʼ ἀγάσασθαι\nἡμῖν, οὕνεκα πομποὶ ἀπήμονές εἰμεν ἁπάντων.\nφῆ ποτὲ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν ἐυεργέα νῆα\nἐκ πομπῆς ἀνιοῦσαν ἐν ἠεροειδέι πόντῳ\nῥαισέμεναι, μέγα δʼ ἧμιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψειν.\nὣς ἀγόρευʼ ὁ γέρων· τὰ δέ κεν θεὸς ἢ τελέσειεν\nἤ κʼ ἀτέλεστʼ εἴη, ὥς οἱ φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ·\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,\nὅππῃ ἀπεπλάγχθης τε καὶ ἅς τινας ἵκεο χώρας\nἀνθρώπων, αὐτούς τε πόλιάς τʼ ἐὺ ναιετοώσας,\nἠμὲν ὅσοι χαλεποί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,\nοἵ τε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής.\nεἰπὲ δʼ ὅ τι κλαίεις καὶ ὀδύρεαι ἔνδοθι θυμῷ\nἈργείων Δαναῶν ἠδʼ Ἰλίου οἶτον ἀκούων.\nτὸν δὲ θεοὶ μὲν τεῦξαν, ἐπεκλώσαντο δʼ ὄλεθρον\nἀνθρώποις, ἵνα ᾖσι καὶ ἐσσομένοισιν ἀοιδή.\nἦ τίς τοι καὶ πηὸς ἀπέφθιτο Ἰλιόθι πρὸ\nἐσθλὸς ἐών, γαμβρὸς ἢ πενθερός, οἵ τε μάλιστα\nκήδιστοι τελέθουσι μεθʼ αἷμά τε καὶ γένος αὐτῶν;\nἦ τίς που καὶ ἑταῖρος ἀνὴρ κεχαρισμένα εἰδώς,\nἐσθλός; ἐπεὶ οὐ μέν τι κασιγνήτοιο χερείων\nγίγνεται, ὅς κεν ἑταῖρος ἐὼν πεπνυμένα εἰδῇ.\n\n### Book 9\n\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἈλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,\nἦ τοι μὲν τόδε καλὸν ἀκουέμεν ἐστὶν ἀοιδοῦ\nτοιοῦδʼ οἷος ὅδʼ ἐστί, θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιος αὐδήν.\nοὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γέ τί φημι τέλος χαριέστερον εἶναι\nἢ ὅτʼ ἐυφροσύνη μὲν ἔχῃ κάτα δῆμον ἅπαντα,\nδαιτυμόνες δʼ ἀνὰ δώματʼ ἀκουάζωνται ἀοιδοῦ\nἥμενοι ἑξείης, παρὰ δὲ πλήθωσι τράπεζαι\nσίτου καὶ κρειῶν, μέθυ δʼ ἐκ κρητῆρος ἀφύσσων\nοἰνοχόος φορέῃσι καὶ ἐγχείῃ δεπάεσσι·\nτοῦτό τί μοι κάλλιστον ἐνὶ φρεσὶν εἴδεται εἶναι.\nσοὶ δʼ ἐμὰ κήδεα θυμὸς ἐπετράπετο στονόεντα\nεἴρεσθʼ, ὄφρʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὀδυρόμενος στεναχίζω·\nτί πρῶτόν τοι ἔπειτα, τί δʼ ὑστάτιον καταλέξω;\nκήδεʼ ἐπεί μοι πολλὰ δόσαν θεοὶ Οὐρανίωνες.\nνῦν δʼ ὄνομα πρῶτον μυθήσομαι, ὄφρα καὶ ὑμεῖς\nεἴδετʼ, ἐγὼ δʼ ἂν ἔπειτα φυγὼν ὕπο νηλεὲς ἦμαρ\nὑμῖν ξεῖνος ἔω καὶ ἀπόπροθι δώματα ναίων.\nεἴμʼ Ὀδυσεὺς Λαερτιάδης, ὃς πᾶσι δόλοισιν\nἀνθρώποισι μέλω, καί μευ κλέος οὐρανὸν ἵκει.\nναιετάω δʼ Ἰθάκην ἐυδείελον· ἐν δʼ ὄρος αὐτῇ\nΝήριτον εἰνοσίφυλλον, ἀριπρεπές· ἀμφὶ δὲ νῆσοι\nπολλαὶ ναιετάουσι μάλα σχεδὸν ἀλλήλῃσι,\nΔουλίχιόν τε Σάμη τε καὶ ὑλήεσσα Ζάκυνθος.\nαὐτὴ δὲ χθαμαλὴ πανυπερτάτη εἰν ἁλὶ κεῖται\nπρὸς ζόφον, αἱ δέ τʼ ἄνευθε πρὸς ἠῶ τʼ ἠέλιόν τε,\nτρηχεῖʼ, ἀλλʼ ἀγαθὴ κουροτρόφος· οὔ τοι ἐγώ γε\nἧς γαίης δύναμαι γλυκερώτερον ἄλλο ἰδέσθαι.\nἦ μέν μʼ αὐτόθʼ ἔρυκε Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,\nἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι·\nὣς δʼ αὔτως Κίρκη κατερήτυεν ἐν μεγάροισιν\nΑἰαίη δολόεσσα, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι·\nἀλλʼ ἐμὸν οὔ ποτε θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔπειθον.\nὣς οὐδὲν γλύκιον ἧς πατρίδος οὐδὲ τοκήων\nγίγνεται, εἴ περ καί τις ἀπόπροθι πίονα οἶκον\nγαίῃ ἐν ἀλλοδαπῇ ναίει ἀπάνευθε τοκήων.\nεἰ δʼ ἄγε τοι καὶ νόστον ἐμὸν πολυκηδέʼ ἐνίσπω,\nὅν μοι Ζεὺς ἐφέηκεν ἀπὸ Τροίηθεν ἰόντι.\nἸλιόθεν με φέρων ἄνεμος Κικόνεσσι πέλασσεν,\nἸσμάρῳ. ἔνθα δʼ ἐγὼ πόλιν ἔπραθον, ὤλεσα δʼ αὐτούς·\nἐκ πόλιος δʼ ἀλόχους καὶ κτήματα πολλὰ λαβόντες\nδασσάμεθʼ, ὡς μή τίς μοι ἀτεμβόμενος κίοι ἴσης.\nἔνθʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ διερῷ ποδὶ φευγέμεν ἡμέας\nἠνώγεα, τοὶ δὲ μέγα νήπιοι οὐκ ἐπίθοντο.\nἔνθα δὲ πολλὸν μὲν μέθυ πίνετο, πολλὰ δὲ μῆλα\nἔσφαζον παρὰ θῖνα καὶ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς·\nτόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ οἰχόμενοι Κίκονες Κικόνεσσι γεγώνευν,\nοἵ σφιν γείτονες ἦσαν, ἅμα πλέονες καὶ ἀρείους,\nἤπειρον ναίοντες, ἐπιστάμενοι μὲν ἀφʼ ἵππων\nἀνδράσι μάρνασθαι καὶ ὅθι χρὴ πεζὸν ἐόντα.\nἦλθον ἔπειθʼ ὅσα φύλλα καὶ ἄνθεα γίγνεται ὥρῃ,\nἠέριοι· τότε δή ῥα κακὴ Διὸς αἶσα παρέστη\nἡμῖν αἰνομόροισιν, ἵνʼ ἄλγεα πολλὰ πάθοιμεν.\nστησάμενοι δʼ ἐμάχοντο μάχην παρὰ νηυσὶ θοῇσι,\nβάλλον δʼ ἀλλήλους χαλκήρεσιν ἐγχείῃσιν.\nὄφρα μὲν ἠὼς ἦν καὶ ἀέξετο ἱερὸν ἦμαρ,\nτόφρα δʼ ἀλεξόμενοι μένομεν πλέονάς περ ἐόντας.\nἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος μετενίσσετο βουλυτόνδε,\nκαὶ τότε δὴ Κίκονες κλῖναν δαμάσαντες Ἀχαιούς.\nἓξ δʼ ἀφʼ ἑκάστης νηὸς ἐυκνήμιδες ἑταῖροι\nὤλονθʼ· οἱ δʼ ἄλλοι φύγομεν θάνατόν τε μόρον τε.\nἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ,\nἄσμενοι ἐκ θανάτοιο, φίλους ὀλέσαντες ἑταίρους.\nοὐδʼ ἄρα μοι προτέρω νῆες κίον ἀμφιέλισσαι,\nπρίν τινα τῶν δειλῶν ἑτάρων τρὶς ἕκαστον ἀῦσαι,\nοἳ θάνον ἐν πεδίῳ Κικόνων ὕπο δῃωθέντες.\nνηυσὶ δʼ ἐπῶρσʼ ἄνεμον Βορέην νεφεληγερέτα Ζεὺς\nλαίλαπι θεσπεσίῃ, σὺν δὲ νεφέεσσι κάλυψε\nγαῖαν ὁμοῦ καὶ πόντον· ὀρώρει δʼ οὐρανόθεν νύξ.\nαἱ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἐφέροντʼ ἐπικάρσιαι, ἱστία δέ σφιν\nτριχθά τε καὶ τετραχθὰ διέσχισεν ἲς ἀνέμοιο.\nκαὶ τὰ μὲν ἐς νῆας κάθεμεν, δείσαντες ὄλεθρον,\nαὐτὰς δʼ ἐσσυμένως προερέσσαμεν ἤπειρόνδε.\nἔνθα δύω νύκτας δύο τʼ ἤματα συνεχὲς αἰεὶ\nκείμεθʼ, ὁμοῦ καμάτῳ τε καὶ ἄλγεσι θυμὸν ἔδοντες.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τρίτον ἦμαρ ἐυπλόκαμος τέλεσʼ Ἠώς,\nἱστοὺς στησάμενοι ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λεύκʼ ἐρύσαντες\nἥμεθα, τὰς δʼ ἄνεμός τε κυβερνῆταί τʼ ἴθυνον.\nκαί νύ κεν ἀσκηθὴς ἱκόμην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·\nἀλλά με κῦμα ῥόος τε περιγνάμπτοντα Μάλειαν\nκαὶ Βορέης ἀπέωσε, παρέπλαγξεν δὲ Κυθήρων.\nἔνθεν δʼ ἐννῆμαρ φερόμην ὀλοοῖς ἀνέμοισιν\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα· ἀτὰρ δεκάτῃ ἐπέβημεν\nγαίης Λωτοφάγων, οἵ τʼ ἄνθινον εἶδαρ ἔδουσιν.\nἔνθα δʼ ἐπʼ ἠπείρου βῆμεν καὶ ἀφυσσάμεθʼ ὕδωρ,\nαἶψα δὲ δεῖπνον ἕλοντο θοῇς παρὰ νηυσὶν ἑταῖροι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σίτοιό τʼ ἐπασσάμεθʼ ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,\nδὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάρους προΐειν πεύθεσθαι ἰόντας,\nοἵ τινες ἀνέρες εἶεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ σῖτον ἔδοντες\nἄνδρε δύω κρίνας, τρίτατον κήρυχʼ ἅμʼ ὀπάσσας.\nοἱ δʼ αἶψʼ οἰχόμενοι μίγεν ἀνδράσι Λωτοφάγοισιν·\nοὐδʼ ἄρα Λωτοφάγοι μήδονθʼ ἑτάροισιν ὄλεθρον\nἡμετέροις, ἀλλά σφι δόσαν λωτοῖο πάσασθαι.\nτῶν δʼ ὅς τις λωτοῖο φάγοι μελιηδέα καρπόν,\nοὐκέτʼ ἀπαγγεῖλαι πάλιν ἤθελεν οὐδὲ νέεσθαι,\nἀλλʼ αὐτοῦ βούλοντο μετʼ ἀνδράσι Λωτοφάγοισι\nλωτὸν ἐρεπτόμενοι μενέμεν νόστου τε λαθέσθαι.\nτοὺς μὲν ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆας ἄγον κλαίοντας ἀνάγκῃ,\nνηυσὶ δʼ ἐνὶ γλαφυρῇσιν ὑπὸ ζυγὰ δῆσα ἐρύσσας.\nαὐτὰρ τοὺς ἄλλους κελόμην ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους\nσπερχομένους νηῶν ἐπιβαινέμεν ὠκειάων,\nμή πώς τις λωτοῖο φαγὼν νόστοιο λάθηται.\nοἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,\nἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.\nἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ·\nΚυκλώπων δʼ ἐς γαῖαν ὑπερφιάλων ἀθεμίστων\nἱκόμεθʼ, οἵ ῥα θεοῖσι πεποιθότες ἀθανάτοισιν\nοὔτε φυτεύουσιν χερσὶν φυτὸν οὔτʼ ἀρόωσιν,\nἀλλὰ τά γʼ ἄσπαρτα καὶ ἀνήροτα πάντα φύονται,\nπυροὶ καὶ κριθαὶ ἠδʼ ἄμπελοι, αἵ τε φέρουσιν\nοἶνον ἐριστάφυλον, καί σφιν Διὸς ὄμβρος ἀέξει.\nτοῖσιν δʼ οὔτʼ ἀγοραὶ βουληφόροι οὔτε θέμιστες,\nἀλλʼ οἵ γʼ ὑψηλῶν ὀρέων ναίουσι κάρηνα\nἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, θεμιστεύει δὲ ἕκαστος\nπαίδων ἠδʼ ἀλόχων, οὐδʼ ἀλλήλων ἀλέγουσιν.\nνῆσος ἔπειτα λάχεια παρὲκ λιμένος τετάνυσται,\nγαίης Κυκλώπων οὔτε σχεδὸν οὔτʼ ἀποτηλοῦ,\nὑλήεσσʼ· ἐν δʼ αἶγες ἀπειρέσιαι γεγάασιν\nἄγριαι· οὐ μὲν γὰρ πάτος ἀνθρώπων ἀπερύκει,\nοὐδέ μιν εἰσοιχνεῦσι κυνηγέται, οἵ τε καθʼ ὕλην\nἄλγεα πάσχουσιν κορυφὰς ὀρέων ἐφέποντες.\nοὔτʼ ἄρα ποίμνῃσιν καταΐσχεται οὔτʼ ἀρότοισιν,\nἀλλʼ ἥ γʼ ἄσπαρτος καὶ ἀνήροτος ἤματα πάντα\nἀνδρῶν χηρεύει, βόσκει δέ τε μηκάδας αἶγας.\nοὐ γὰρ Κυκλώπεσσι νέες πάρα μιλτοπάρῃοι,\nοὐδʼ ἄνδρες νηῶν ἔνι τέκτονες, οἵ κε κάμοιεν\nνῆας ἐυσσέλμους, αἵ κεν τελέοιεν ἕκαστα\nἄστεʼ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπων ἱκνεύμεναι, οἷά τε πολλὰ\nἄνδρες ἐπʼ ἀλλήλους νηυσὶν περόωσι θάλασσαν·\nοἵ κέ σφιν καὶ νῆσον ἐυκτιμένην ἐκάμοντο.\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τι κακή γε, φέροι δέ κεν ὥρια πάντα·\nἐν μὲν γὰρ λειμῶνες ἁλὸς πολιοῖο παρʼ ὄχθας\nὑδρηλοὶ μαλακοί· μάλα κʼ ἄφθιτοι ἄμπελοι εἶεν.\nἐν δʼ ἄροσις λείη· μάλα κεν βαθὺ λήιον αἰεὶ\nεἰς ὥρας ἀμῷεν, ἐπεὶ μάλα πῖαρ ὑπʼ οὖδας.\nἐν δὲ λιμὴν ἐύορμος, ἵνʼ οὐ χρεὼ πείσματός ἐστιν,\nοὔτʼ εὐνὰς βαλέειν οὔτε πρυμνήσιʼ ἀνάψαι,\nἀλλʼ ἐπικέλσαντας μεῖναι χρόνον εἰς ὅ κε ναυτέων\nθυμὸς ἐποτρύνῃ καὶ ἐπιπνεύσωσιν ἀῆται.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὶ κρατὸς λιμένος ῥέει ἀγλαὸν ὕδωρ,\nκρήνη ὑπὸ σπείους· περὶ δʼ αἴγειροι πεφύασιν.\nἔνθα κατεπλέομεν, καί τις θεὸς ἡγεμόνευεν\nνύκτα διʼ ὀρφναίην, οὐδὲ προυφαίνετʼ ἰδέσθαι·\nἀὴρ γὰρ περὶ νηυσὶ βαθεῖʼ ἦν, οὐδὲ σελήνη\nοὐρανόθεν προύφαινε, κατείχετο δὲ νεφέεσσιν.\nἔνθʼ οὔ τις τὴν νῆσον ἐσέδρακεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,\nοὔτʼ οὖν κύματα μακρὰ κυλινδόμενα προτὶ χέρσον\nεἰσίδομεν, πρὶν νῆας ἐυσσέλμους ἐπικέλσαι.\nκελσάσῃσι δὲ νηυσὶ καθείλομεν ἱστία πάντα,\nἐκ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βῆμεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης·\nἔνθα δʼ ἀποβρίξαντες ἐμείναμεν Ἠῶ δῖαν.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nνῆσον θαυμάζοντες ἐδινεόμεσθα κατʼ αὐτήν.\nὦρσαν δὲ νύμφαι, κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο,\nαἶγας ὀρεσκῴους, ἵνα δειπνήσειαν ἑταῖροι.\nαὐτίκα καμπύλα τόξα καὶ αἰγανέας δολιχαύλους\nεἱλόμεθʼ ἐκ νηῶν, διὰ δὲ τρίχα κοσμηθέντες\nβάλλομεν· αἶψα δʼ ἔδωκε θεὸς μενοεικέα θήρην.\nνῆες μέν μοι ἕποντο δυώδεκα, ἐς δὲ ἑκάστην\nἐννέα λάγχανον αἶγες· ἐμοὶ δὲ δέκʼ ἔξελον οἴῳ.\nὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα\nἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·\nοὐ γάρ πω νηῶν ἐξέφθιτο οἶνος ἐρυθρός,\nἀλλʼ ἐνέην· πολλὸν γὰρ ἐν ἀμφιφορεῦσιν ἕκαστοι\nἠφύσαμεν Κικόνων. ἱερὸν πτολίεθρον ἑλόντες.\nΚυκλώπων δʼ ἐς γαῖαν ἐλεύσσομεν ἐγγὺς ἐόντων,\nκαπνόν τʼ αὐτῶν τε φθογγὴν ὀίων τε καὶ αἰγῶν.\nἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθε,\nδὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἀγορὴν θέμενος μετὰ πᾶσιν ἔειπον·\nἄλλοι μὲν νῦν μίμνετʼ, ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σὺν νηί τʼ ἐμῇ καὶ ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισιν\nἐλθὼν τῶνδʼ ἀνδρῶν πειρήσομαι, οἵ τινές εἰσιν,\nἤ ῥʼ οἵ γʼ ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,\nἦε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἀνὰ νηὸς ἔβην, ἐκέλευσα δʼ ἑταίρους\nαὐτούς τʼ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι.\nοἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,\nἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τὸν χῶρον ἀφικόμεθʼ ἐγγὺς ἐόντα,\nἔνθα δʼ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῇ σπέος εἴδομεν ἄγχι θαλάσσης,\nὑψηλόν, δάφνῃσι κατηρεφές. ἔνθα δὲ πολλὰ\nμῆλʼ, ὄιές τε καὶ αἶγες, ἰαύεσκον· περὶ δʼ αὐλὴ\nὑψηλὴ δέδμητο κατωρυχέεσσι λίθοισι\nμακρῇσίν τε πίτυσσιν ἰδὲ δρυσὶν ὑψικόμοισιν.\nἔνθα δʼ ἀνὴρ ἐνίαυε πελώριος, ὅς ῥα τὰ μῆλα\nοἶος ποιμαίνεσκεν ἀπόπροθεν· οὐδὲ μετʼ ἄλλους\nπωλεῖτʼ, ἀλλʼ ἀπάνευθεν ἐὼν ἀθεμίστια ᾔδη.\nκαὶ γὰρ θαῦμʼ ἐτέτυκτο πελώριον, οὐδὲ ἐῴκει\nἀνδρί γε σιτοφάγῳ, ἀλλὰ ῥίῳ ὑλήεντι\nὑψηλῶν ὀρέων, ὅ τε φαίνεται οἶον ἀπʼ ἄλλων.\nδὴ τότε τοὺς ἄλλους κελόμην ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους\nαὐτοῦ πὰρ νηί τε μένειν καὶ νῆα ἔρυσθαι,\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ κρίνας ἑτάρων δυοκαίδεκʼ ἀρίστους\nβῆν· ἀτὰρ αἴγεον ἀσκὸν ἔχον μέλανος οἴνοιο\nἡδέος, ὅν μοι ἔδωκε Μάρων, Ἐυάνθεος υἱός,\nἱρεὺς Ἀπόλλωνος, ὃς Ἴσμαρον ἀμφιβεβήκει,\nοὕνεκά μιν σὺν παιδὶ περισχόμεθʼ ἠδὲ γυναικὶ\nἁζόμενοι· ᾤκει γὰρ ἐν ἄλσεϊ δενδρήεντι\nΦοίβου Ἀπόλλωνος. ὁ δέ μοι πόρεν ἀγλαὰ δῶρα·\nχρυσοῦ μέν μοι ἔδωκʼ ἐυεργέος ἑπτὰ τάλαντα,\nδῶκε δέ μοι κρητῆρα πανάργυρον, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nοἶνον ἐν ἀμφιφορεῦσι δυώδεκα πᾶσιν ἀφύσσας\nἡδὺν ἀκηράσιον, θεῖον ποτόν· οὐδέ τις αὐτὸν\nἠείδη δμώων οὐδʼ ἀμφιπόλων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nἀλλʼ αὐτὸς ἄλοχός τε φίλη ταμίη τε μίʼ οἴη.\nτὸν δʼ ὅτε πίνοιεν μελιηδέα οἶνον ἐρυθρόν,\nἓν δέπας ἐμπλήσας ὕδατος ἀνὰ εἴκοσι μέτρα\nχεῦʼ, ὀδμὴ δʼ ἡδεῖα ἀπὸ κρητῆρος ὀδώδει\nθεσπεσίη· τότʼ ἂν οὔ τοι ἀποσχέσθαι φίλον ἦεν.\nτοῦ φέρον ἐμπλήσας ἀσκὸν μέγαν, ἐν δὲ καὶ ᾖα\nκωρύκῳ· αὐτίκα γάρ μοι ὀίσατο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ\nἄνδρʼ ἐπελεύσεσθαι μεγάλην ἐπιειμένον ἀλκήν,\nἄγριον, οὔτε δίκας ἐὺ εἰδότα οὔτε θέμιστας.\nκαρπαλίμως δʼ εἰς ἄντρον ἀφικόμεθʼ, οὐδέ μιν ἔνδον\nεὕρομεν, ἀλλʼ ἐνόμευε νομὸν κάτα πίονα μῆλα.\nἐλθόντες δʼ εἰς ἄντρον ἐθηεύμεσθα ἕκαστα.\nταρσοὶ μὲν τυρῶν βρῖθον, στείνοντο δὲ σηκοὶ\nἀρνῶν ἠδʼ ἐρίφων· διακεκριμέναι δὲ ἕκασται\nἔρχατο, χωρὶς μὲν πρόγονοι, χωρὶς δὲ μέτασσαι,\nχωρὶς δʼ αὖθʼ ἕρσαι. ναῖον δʼ ὀρῷ ἄγγεα πάντα,\nγαυλοί τε σκαφίδες τε, τετυγμένα, τοῖς ἐνάμελγεν.\nἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν πρώτισθʼ ἕταροι λίσσοντʼ ἐπέεσσιν\nτυρῶν αἰνυμένους ἰέναι πάλιν, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nκαρπαλίμως ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν ἐρίφους τε καὶ ἄρνας\nσηκῶν ἐξελάσαντας ἐπιπλεῖν ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ·\nἀλλʼ ἐγὼ οὐ πιθόμην, ἦ τʼ ἂν πολὺ κέρδιον ἦεν,\nὄφρʼ αὐτόν τε ἴδοιμι, καὶ εἴ μοι ξείνια δοίη.\nοὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔμελλʼ ἑτάροισι φανεὶς ἐρατεινὸς ἔσεσθαι.\nἔνθα δὲ πῦρ κήαντες ἐθύσαμεν ἠδὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ\nτυρῶν αἰνύμενοι φάγομεν, μένομέν τέ μιν ἔνδον\nἥμενοι, ἧος ἐπῆλθε νέμων. φέρε δʼ ὄβριμον ἄχθος\nὕλης ἀζαλέης, ἵνα οἱ ποτιδόρπιον εἴη,\nἔντοσθεν δʼ ἄντροιο βαλὼν ὀρυμαγδὸν ἔθηκεν·\nἡμεῖς δὲ δείσαντες ἀπεσσύμεθʼ ἐς μυχὸν ἄντρου.\nαὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ εἰς εὐρὺ σπέος ἤλασε πίονα μῆλα\nπάντα μάλʼ ὅσσʼ ἤμελγε, τὰ δʼ ἄρσενα λεῖπε θύρηφιν,\nἀρνειούς τε τράγους τε, βαθείης ἔκτοθεν αὐλῆς.\nαὐτὰρ ἔπειτʼ ἐπέθηκε θυρεὸν μέγαν ὑψόσʼ ἀείρας,\nὄβριμον· οὐκ ἂν τόν γε δύω καὶ εἴκοσʼ ἄμαξαι\nἐσθλαὶ τετράκυκλοι ἀπʼ οὔδεος ὀχλίσσειαν·\nτόσσην ἠλίβατον πέτρην ἐπέθηκε θύρῃσιν.\nἑζόμενος δʼ ἤμελγεν ὄις καὶ μηκάδας αἶγας,\nπάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, καὶ ὑπʼ ἔμβρυον ἧκεν ἑκάστῃ.\nαὐτίκα δʼ ἥμισυ μὲν θρέψας λευκοῖο γάλακτος\nπλεκτοῖς ἐν ταλάροισιν ἀμησάμενος κατέθηκεν,\nἥμισυ δʼ αὖτʼ ἔστησεν ἐν ἄγγεσιν, ὄφρα οἱ εἴη\nπίνειν αἰνυμένῳ καί οἱ ποτιδόρπιον εἴη.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ σπεῦσε πονησάμενος τὰ ἃ ἔργα,\nκαὶ τότε πῦρ ἀνέκαιε καὶ εἴσιδεν, εἴρετο δʼ ἡμέας·\nὦ ξεῖνοι, τίνες ἐστέ; πόθεν πλεῖθʼ ὑγρὰ κέλευθα;\nἦ τι κατὰ πρῆξιν ἦ μαψιδίως ἀλάλησθε,\nοἷά τε ληιστῆρες, ὑπεὶρ ἅλα, τοί τʼ ἀλόωνται\nψυχὰς παρθέμενοι κακὸν ἀλλοδαποῖσι φέροντες;\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,\nδεισάντων φθόγγον τε βαρὺν αὐτόν τε πέλωρον.\nἀλλὰ καὶ ὥς μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nἡμεῖς τοι Τροίηθεν ἀποπλαγχθέντες Ἀχαιοὶ\nπαντοίοις ἀνέμοισιν ὑπὲρ μέγα λαῖτμα θαλάσσης,\nοἴκαδε ἱέμενοι, ἄλλην ὁδὸν ἄλλα κέλευθα\nἤλθομεν· οὕτω που Ζεὺς ἤθελε μητίσασθαι.\nλαοὶ δʼ Ἀτρεΐδεω Ἀγαμέμνονος εὐχόμεθʼ εἶναι,\nτοῦ δὴ νῦν γε μέγιστον ὑπουράνιον κλέος ἐστί·\nτόσσην γὰρ διέπερσε πόλιν καὶ ἀπώλεσε λαοὺς\nπολλούς. ἡμεῖς δʼ αὖτε κιχανόμενοι τὰ σὰ γοῦνα\nἱκόμεθʼ, εἴ τι πόροις ξεινήιον ἠὲ καὶ ἄλλως\nδοίης δωτίνην, ἥ τε ξείνων θέμις ἐστίν.\nἀλλʼ αἰδεῖο, φέριστε, θεούς· ἱκέται δέ τοί εἰμεν,\nΖεὺς δʼ ἐπιτιμήτωρ ἱκετάων τε ξείνων τε,\nξείνιος, ὃς ξείνοισιν ἅμʼ αἰδοίοισιν ὀπηδεῖ.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο νηλέι θυμῷ·\nνήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖνʼ, ἢ τηλόθεν εἰλήλουθας,\nὅς με θεοὺς κέλεαι ἢ δειδίμεν ἢ ἀλέασθαι·\nοὐ γὰρ Κύκλωπες Διὸς αἰγιόχου ἀλέγουσιν\nοὐδὲ θεῶν μακάρων, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτεροί εἰμεν·\nοὐδʼ ἂν ἐγὼ Διὸς ἔχθος ἀλευάμενος πεφιδοίμην\nοὔτε σεῦ οὔθʼ ἑτάρων, εἰ μὴ θυμός με κελεύοι.\nἀλλά μοι εἴφʼ ὅπῃ ἔσχες ἰὼν ἐυεργέα νῆα,\nἤ που ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῆς, ἦ καὶ σχεδόν, ὄφρα δαείω.\nὣς φάτο πειράζων, ἐμὲ δʼ οὐ λάθεν εἰδότα πολλά,\nἀλλά μιν ἄψορρον προσέφην δολίοις ἐπέεσσι·\nνέα μέν μοι κατέαξε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων\nπρὸς πέτρῃσι βαλὼν ὑμῆς ἐπὶ πείρασι γαίης,\nἄκρῃ προσπελάσας· ἄνεμος δʼ ἐκ πόντου ἔνεικεν·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σὺν τοῖσδε ὑπέκφυγον αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ οὐδὲν ἀμείβετο νηλέι θυμῷ,\nἀλλʼ ὅ γʼ ἀναΐξας ἑτάροις ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἴαλλε,\nσὺν δὲ δύω μάρψας ὥς τε σκύλακας ποτὶ γαίῃ\nκόπτʼ· ἐκ δʼ ἐγκέφαλος χαμάδις ῥέε, δεῦε δὲ γαῖαν.\nτοὺς δὲ διὰ μελεϊστὶ ταμὼν ὡπλίσσατο δόρπον·\nἤσθιε δʼ ὥς τε λέων ὀρεσίτροφος, οὐδʼ ἀπέλειπεν,\nἔγκατά τε σάρκας τε καὶ ὀστέα μυελόεντα.\nἡμεῖς δὲ κλαίοντες ἀνεσχέθομεν Διὶ χεῖρας,\nσχέτλια ἔργʼ ὁρόωντες, ἀμηχανίη δʼ ἔχε θυμόν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Κύκλωψ μεγάλην ἐμπλήσατο νηδὺν\nἀνδρόμεα κρέʼ ἔδων καὶ ἐπʼ ἄκρητον γάλα πίνων,\nκεῖτʼ ἔντοσθʼ ἄντροιο τανυσσάμενος διὰ μήλων.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼ βούλευσα κατὰ μεγαλήτορα θυμὸν\nἆσσον ἰών, ξίφος ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ,\nοὐτάμεναι πρὸς στῆθος, ὅθι φρένες ἧπαρ ἔχουσι,\nχείρʼ ἐπιμασσάμενος· ἕτερος δέ με θυμὸς ἔρυκεν.\nαὐτοῦ γάρ κε καὶ ἄμμες ἀπωλόμεθʼ αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον·\nοὐ γάρ κεν δυνάμεσθα θυράων ὑψηλάων\nχερσὶν ἀπώσασθαι λίθον ὄβριμον, ὃν προσέθηκεν.\nὣς τότε μὲν στενάχοντες ἐμείναμεν Ἠῶ δῖαν.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nκαὶ τότε πῦρ ἀνέκαιε καὶ ἤμελγε κλυτὰ μῆλα,\nπάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, καὶ ὑπʼ ἔμβρυον ἧκεν ἑκάστῃ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ σπεῦσε πονησάμενος τὰ ἃ ἔργα,\nσὺν δʼ ὅ γε δὴ αὖτε δύω μάρψας ὡπλίσσατο δεῖπνον.\nδειπνήσας δʼ ἄντρου ἐξήλασε πίονα μῆλα,\nῥηιδίως ἀφελὼν θυρεὸν μέγαν· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nἂψ ἐπέθηχʼ, ὡς εἴ τε φαρέτρῃ πῶμʼ ἐπιθείη.\nπολλῇ δὲ ῥοίζῳ πρὸς ὄρος τρέπε πίονα μῆλα\nΚύκλωψ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ λιπόμην κακὰ βυσσοδομεύων,\nεἴ πως τισαίμην, δοίη δέ μοι εὖχος Ἀθήνη.\nἥδε δέ μοι κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή.\nΚύκλωπος γὰρ ἔκειτο μέγα ῥόπαλον παρὰ σηκῷ,\nχλωρὸν ἐλαΐνεον· τὸ μὲν ἔκταμεν, ὄφρα φοροίη\nαὐανθέν. τὸ μὲν ἄμμες ἐίσκομεν εἰσορόωντες\nὅσσον θʼ ἱστὸν νηὸς ἐεικοσόροιο μελαίνης,\nφορτίδος εὐρείης, ἥ τʼ ἐκπεράᾳ μέγα λαῖτμα·\nτόσσον ἔην μῆκος, τόσσον πάχος εἰσοράασθαι.\nτοῦ μὲν ὅσον τʼ ὄργυιαν ἐγὼν ἀπέκοψα παραστὰς\nκαὶ παρέθηχʼ ἑτάροισιν, ἀποξῦναι δʼ ἐκέλευσα·\nοἱ δʼ ὁμαλὸν ποίησαν· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐθόωσα παραστὰς\nἄκρον, ἄφαρ δὲ λαβὼν ἐπυράκτεον ἐν πυρὶ κηλέῳ.\nκαὶ τὸ μὲν εὖ κατέθηκα κατακρύψας ὑπὸ κόπρῳ,\nἥ ῥα κατὰ σπείους κέχυτο μεγάλʼ ἤλιθα πολλή·\nαὐτὰρ τοὺς ἄλλους κλήρῳ πεπαλάσθαι ἄνωγον,\nὅς τις τολμήσειεν ἐμοὶ σὺν μοχλὸν ἀείρας\nτρῖψαι ἐν ὀφθαλμῷ, ὅτε τὸν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἱκάνοι.\nοἱ δʼ ἔλαχον τοὺς ἄν κε καὶ ἤθελον αὐτὸς ἑλέσθαι,\nτέσσαρες, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ πέμπτος μετὰ τοῖσιν ἐλέγμην.\nἑσπέριος δʼ ἦλθεν καλλίτριχα μῆλα νομεύων.\nαὐτίκα δʼ εἰς εὐρὺ σπέος ἤλασε πίονα μῆλα\nπάντα μάλʼ, οὐδέ τι λεῖπε βαθείης ἔκτοθεν αὐλῆς,\nἤ τι ὀισάμενος, ἢ καὶ θεὸς ὣς ἐκέλευσεν.\nαὐτὰρ ἔπειτʼ ἐπέθηκε θυρεὸν μέγαν ὑψόσʼ ἀείρας,\nἑζόμενος δʼ ἤμελγεν ὄις καὶ μηκάδας αἶγας,\nπάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, καὶ ὑπʼ ἔμβρυον ἧκεν ἑκάστῃ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ σπεῦσε πονησάμενος τὰ ἃ ἔργα,\nσὺν δʼ ὅ γε δὴ αὖτε δύω μάρψας ὡπλίσσατο δόρπον.\nκαὶ τότʼ ἐγὼ Κύκλωπα προσηύδων ἄγχι παραστάς,\nκισσύβιον μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχων μέλανος οἴνοιο·\nΚύκλωψ, τῆ, πίε οἶνον, ἐπεὶ φάγες ἀνδρόμεα κρέα,\nὄφρʼ εἰδῇς οἷόν τι ποτὸν τόδε νηῦς ἐκεκεύθει\nἡμετέρη. σοὶ δʼ αὖ λοιβὴν φέρον, εἴ μʼ ἐλεήσας\nοἴκαδε πέμψειας· σὺ δὲ μαίνεαι οὐκέτʼ ἀνεκτῶς.\nσχέτλιε, πῶς κέν τίς σε καὶ ὕστερον ἄλλος ἵκοιτο\nἀνθρώπων πολέων, ἐπεὶ οὐ κατὰ μοῖραν ἔρεξας;\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δʼ ἔδεκτο καὶ ἔκπιεν· ἥσατο δʼ αἰνῶς\nἡδὺ ποτὸν πίνων καὶ μʼ ᾔτεε δεύτερον αὖτις·\nδός μοι ἔτι πρόφρων, καί μοι τεὸν οὔνομα εἰπὲ\nαὐτίκα νῦν, ἵνα τοι δῶ ξείνιον, ᾧ κε σὺ χαίρῃς·\nκαὶ γὰρ Κυκλώπεσσι φέρει ζείδωρος ἄρουρα\nοἶνον ἐριστάφυλον, καί σφιν Διὸς ὄμβρος ἀέξει·\nἀλλὰ τόδʼ ἀμβροσίης καὶ νέκταρός ἐστιν ἀπορρώξ.\nὣς φάτʼ, ἀτάρ οἱ αὖτις ἐγὼ πόρον αἴθοπα οἶνον.\nτρὶς μὲν ἔδωκα φέρων, τρὶς δʼ ἔκπιεν ἀφραδίῃσιν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Κύκλωπα περὶ φρένας ἤλυθεν οἶνος,\nκαὶ τότε δή μιν ἔπεσσι προσηύδων μειλιχίοισι·\nΚύκλωψ, εἰρωτᾷς μʼ ὄνομα κλυτόν, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ τοι\nἐξερέω· σὺ δέ μοι δὸς ξείνιον, ὥς περ ὑπέστης.\nΟὖτις ἐμοί γʼ ὄνομα· Οὖτιν δέ με κικλήσκουσι\nμήτηρ ἠδὲ πατὴρ ἠδʼ ἄλλοι πάντες ἑταῖροι.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο νηλέι θυμῷ·\nΟὖτιν ἐγὼ πύματον ἔδομαι μετὰ οἷς ἑτάροισιν,\nτοὺς δʼ ἄλλους πρόσθεν· τὸ δέ τοι ξεινήιον ἔσται.\nἦ καὶ ἀνακλινθεὶς πέσεν ὕπτιος, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nκεῖτʼ ἀποδοχμώσας παχὺν αὐχένα, κὰδ δέ μιν ὕπνος\nᾕρει πανδαμάτωρ· φάρυγος δʼ ἐξέσσυτο οἶνος\nψωμοί τʼ ἀνδρόμεοι· ὁ δʼ ἐρεύγετο οἰνοβαρείων.\nκαὶ τότʼ ἐγὼ τὸν μοχλὸν ὑπὸ σποδοῦ ἤλασα πολλῆς,\nἧος θερμαίνοιτο· ἔπεσσι δὲ πάντας ἑταίρους\nθάρσυνον, μή τίς μοι ὑποδείσας ἀναδύη.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τάχʼ ὁ μοχλὸς ἐλάινος ἐν πυρὶ μέλλεν\nἅψεσθαι, χλωρός περ ἐών, διεφαίνετο δʼ αἰνῶς,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἆσσον φέρον ἐκ πυρός, ἀμφὶ δʼ ἑταῖροι\nἵσταντʼ· αὐτὰρ θάρσος ἐνέπνευσεν μέγα δαίμων.\nοἱ μὲν μοχλὸν ἑλόντες ἐλάινον, ὀξὺν ἐπʼ ἄκρῳ,\nὀφθαλμῷ ἐνέρεισαν· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐφύπερθεν ἐρεισθεὶς\nδίνεον, ὡς ὅτε τις τρυπῷ δόρυ νήιον ἀνὴρ\nτρυπάνῳ, οἱ δέ τʼ ἔνερθεν ὑποσσείουσιν ἱμάντι\nἁψάμενοι ἑκάτερθε, τὸ δὲ τρέχει ἐμμενὲς αἰεί.\nὣς τοῦ ἐν ὀφθαλμῷ πυριήκεα μοχλὸν ἑλόντες\nδινέομεν, τὸν δʼ αἷμα περίρρεε θερμὸν ἐόντα.\nπάντα δέ οἱ βλέφαρʼ ἀμφὶ καὶ ὀφρύας εὗσεν ἀυτμὴ\nγλήνης καιομένης, σφαραγεῦντο δέ οἱ πυρὶ ῥίζαι.\nὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἀνὴρ χαλκεὺς πέλεκυν μέγαν ἠὲ σκέπαρνον\nεἰν ὕδατι ψυχρῷ βάπτῃ μεγάλα ἰάχοντα\nφαρμάσσων· τὸ γὰρ αὖτε σιδήρου γε κράτος ἐστίν\nὣς τοῦ σίζʼ ὀφθαλμὸς ἐλαϊνέῳ περὶ μοχλῷ.\nσμερδαλέον δὲ μέγʼ ᾤμωξεν, περὶ δʼ ἴαχε πέτρη,\nἡμεῖς δὲ δείσαντες ἀπεσσύμεθʼ· αὐτὰρ ὁ μοχλὸν\nἐξέρυσʼ ὀφθαλμοῖο πεφυρμένον αἵματι πολλῷ.\nτὸν μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἔρριψεν ἀπὸ ἕο χερσὶν ἀλύων,\nαὐτὰρ ὁ Κύκλωπας μεγάλʼ ἤπυεν, οἵ ῥά μιν ἀμφὶς\nᾤκεον ἐν σπήεσσι διʼ ἄκριας ἠνεμοέσσας.\nοἱ δὲ βοῆς ἀίοντες ἐφοίτων ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος,\nἱστάμενοι δʼ εἴροντο περὶ σπέος ὅττι ἑ κήδοι·\nτίπτε τόσον, Πολύφημʼ, ἀρημένος ὧδʼ ἐβόησας\nνύκτα διʼ ἀμβροσίην καὶ ἀύπνους ἄμμε τίθησθα;\nἦ μή τίς σευ μῆλα βροτῶν ἀέκοντος ἐλαύνει;\nἦ μή τίς σʼ αὐτὸν κτείνει δόλῳ ἠὲ βίηφιν;\nτοὺς δʼ αὖτʼ ἐξ ἄντρου προσέφη κρατερὸς Πολύφημος·\nὦ φίλοι, Οὖτίς με κτείνει δόλῳ οὐδὲ βίηφιν.\nοἱ δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενοι ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευον·\nεἰ μὲν δὴ μή τίς σε βιάζεται οἶον ἐόντα,\nνοῦσον γʼ οὔ πως ἔστι Διὸς μεγάλου ἀλέασθαι,\nἀλλὰ σύ γʼ εὔχεο πατρὶ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν ἀπιόντες, ἐμὸν δʼ ἐγέλασσε φίλον κῆρ,\nὡς ὄνομʼ ἐξαπάτησεν ἐμὸν καὶ μῆτις ἀμύμων.\nΚύκλωψ δὲ στενάχων τε καὶ ὠδίνων ὀδύνῃσι\nχερσὶ ψηλαφόων ἀπὸ μὲν λίθον εἷλε θυράων,\nαὐτὸς δʼ εἰνὶ θύρῃσι καθέζετο χεῖρε πετάσσας,\nεἴ τινά που μετʼ ὄεσσι λάβοι στείχοντα θύραζε·\nοὕτω γάρ πού μʼ ἤλπετʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ νήπιον εἶναι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ βούλευον, ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένοιτο,\nεἴ τινʼ ἑταίροισιν θανάτου λύσιν ἠδʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ\nεὑροίμην· πάντας δὲ δόλους καὶ μῆτιν ὕφαινον\nὥς τε περὶ ψυχῆς· μέγα γὰρ κακὸν ἐγγύθεν ἦεν.\nἥδε δέ μοι κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή.\nἄρσενες ὄιες ἦσαν ἐυτρεφέες, δασύμαλλοι,\nκαλοί τε μεγάλοι τε, ἰοδνεφὲς εἶρος ἔχοντες·\nτοὺς ἀκέων συνέεργον ἐυστρεφέεσσι λύγοισιν,\nτῇς ἔπι Κύκλωψ εὗδε πέλωρ, ἀθεμίστια εἰδώς,\nσύντρεις αἰνύμενος· ὁ μὲν ἐν μέσῳ ἄνδρα φέρεσκε,\nτὼ δʼ ἑτέρω ἑκάτερθεν ἴτην σώοντες ἑταίρους.\nτρεῖς δὲ ἕκαστον φῶτʼ ὄιες φέρον· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε—\nἀρνειὸς γὰρ ἔην μήλων ὄχʼ ἄριστος ἁπάντων,\nτοῦ κατὰ νῶτα λαβών, λασίην ὑπὸ γαστέρʼ ἐλυσθεὶς\nκείμην· αὐτὰρ χερσὶν ἀώτου θεσπεσίοιο\nνωλεμέως στρεφθεὶς ἐχόμην τετληότι θυμῷ.\nὣς τότε μὲν στενάχοντες ἐμείναμεν Ἠῶ δῖαν.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἔπειτα νομόνδʼ ἐξέσσυτο ἄρσενα μῆλα,\nθήλειαι δὲ μέμηκον ἀνήμελκτοι περὶ σηκούς·\nοὔθατα γὰρ σφαραγεῦντο. ἄναξ δʼ ὀδύνῃσι κακῇσι\nτειρόμενος πάντων ὀίων ἐπεμαίετο νῶτα\nὀρθῶν ἑσταότων· τὸ δὲ νήπιος οὐκ ἐνόησεν,\nὥς οἱ ὑπʼ εἰροπόκων ὀίων στέρνοισι δέδεντο.\nὕστατος ἀρνειὸς μήλων ἔστειχε θύραζε\nλάχνῳ στεινόμενος καὶ ἐμοὶ πυκινὰ φρονέοντι.\nτὸν δʼ ἐπιμασσάμενος προσέφη κρατερὸς Πολύφημος·\nκριὲ πέπον, τί μοι ὧδε διὰ σπέος ἔσσυο μήλων\nὕστατος; οὔ τι πάρος γε λελειμμένος ἔρχεαι οἰῶν,\nἀλλὰ πολὺ πρῶτος νέμεαι τέρενʼ ἄνθεα ποίης\nμακρὰ βιβάς, πρῶτος δὲ ῥοὰς ποταμῶν ἀφικάνεις,\nπρῶτος δὲ σταθμόνδε λιλαίεαι ἀπονέεσθαι\nἑσπέριος· νῦν αὖτε πανύστατος. ἦ σύ γʼ ἄνακτος\nὀφθαλμὸν ποθέεις, τὸν ἀνὴρ κακὸς ἐξαλάωσε\nσὺν λυγροῖς ἑτάροισι δαμασσάμενος φρένας οἴνῳ,\nΟὖτις, ὃν οὔ πώ φημι πεφυγμένον εἶναι ὄλεθρον.\nεἰ δὴ ὁμοφρονέοις ποτιφωνήεις τε γένοιο\nεἰπεῖν ὅππῃ κεῖνος ἐμὸν μένος ἠλασκάζει·\nτῷ κέ οἱ ἐγκέφαλός γε διὰ σπέος ἄλλυδις ἄλλῃ\nθεινομένου ῥαίοιτο πρὸς οὔδεϊ, κὰδ δέ κʼ ἐμὸν κῆρ\nλωφήσειε κακῶν, τά μοι οὐτιδανὸς πόρεν Οὖτις.\nὣς εἰπὼν τὸν κριὸν ἀπὸ ἕο πέμπε θύραζε.\nἐλθόντες δʼ ἠβαιὸν ἀπὸ σπείους τε καὶ αὐλῆς\nπρῶτος ὑπʼ ἀρνειοῦ λυόμην, ὑπέλυσα δʼ ἑταίρους.\nκαρπαλίμως δὲ τὰ μῆλα ταναύποδα, πίονα δημῷ,\nπολλὰ περιτροπέοντες ἐλαύνομεν, ὄφρʼ ἐπὶ νῆα\nἱκόμεθʼ. ἀσπάσιοι δὲ φίλοις ἑτάροισι φάνημεν,\nοἳ φύγομεν θάνατον, τοὺς δὲ στενάχοντο γοῶντες.\nἀλλʼ ἐγὼ οὐκ εἴων, ἀνὰ δʼ ὀφρύσι νεῦον ἑκάστῳ,\nκλαίειν, ἀλλʼ ἐκέλευσα θοῶς καλλίτριχα μῆλα\nπόλλʼ ἐν νηὶ βαλόντας ἐπιπλεῖν ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.\nοἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,\nἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε τόσσον ἀπῆν, ὅσσον τε γέγωνε βοήσας,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἐγὼ Κύκλωπα προσηύδων κερτομίοισι·\nΚύκλωψ, οὐκ ἄρʼ ἔμελλες ἀνάλκιδος ἀνδρὸς ἑταίρους\nἔδμεναι ἐν σπῆι γλαφυρῷ κρατερῆφι βίηφι.\nκαὶ λίην σέ γʼ ἔμελλε κιχήσεσθαι κακὰ ἔργα,\nσχέτλιʼ, ἐπεὶ ξείνους οὐχ ἅζεο σῷ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nἐσθέμεναι· τῷ σε Ζεὺς τίσατο καὶ θεοὶ ἄλλοι.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα χολώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,\nἧκε δʼ ἀπορρήξας κορυφὴν ὄρεος μεγάλοιο,\nκὰδ δʼ ἔβαλε προπάροιθε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο\nτυτθόν, ἐδεύησεν δʼ οἰήιον ἄκρον ἱκέσθαι,\nἐκλύσθη δὲ θάλασσα κατερχομένης ὑπὸ πέτρης·\nτὴν δʼ αἶψʼ ἤπειρόνδε παλιρρόθιον φέρε κῦμα,\nπλημυρὶς ἐκ πόντοιο, θέμωσε δὲ χέρσον ἱκέσθαι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ χείρεσσι λαβὼν περιμήκεα κοντὸν\nὦσα παρέξ, ἑτάροισι δʼ ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσα\nἐμβαλέειν κώπῃς, ἵνʼ ὑπὲκ κακότητα φύγοιμεν,\nκρατὶ κατανεύων· οἱ δὲ προπεσόντες ἔρεσσον.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ δὶς τόσσον ἅλα πρήσσοντες ἀπῆμεν,\nκαὶ τότε δὴ Κύκλωπα προσηύδων· ἀμφὶ δʼ ἑταῖροι\nμειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσιν ἐρήτυον ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος·\nσχέτλιε, τίπτʼ ἐθέλεις ἐρεθιζέμεν ἄγριον ἄνδρα;\nὃς καὶ νῦν πόντονδε βαλὼν βέλος ἤγαγε νῆα\nαὖτις ἐς ἤπειρον, καὶ δὴ φάμεν αὐτόθʼ ὀλέσθαι.\nεἰ δὲ φθεγξαμένου τευ ἢ αὐδήσαντος ἄκουσε,\nσύν κεν ἄραξʼ ἡμέων κεφαλὰς καὶ νήια δοῦρα\nμαρμάρῳ ὀκριόεντι βαλών· τόσσον γὰρ ἵησιν.\nὣς φάσαν, ἀλλʼ οὐ πεῖθον ἐμὸν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν,\nἀλλά μιν ἄψορρον προσέφην κεκοτηότι θυμῷ·\nΚύκλωψ, αἴ κέν τίς σε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων\nὀφθαλμοῦ εἴρηται ἀεικελίην ἀλαωτύν,\nφάσθαι Ὀδυσσῆα πτολιπόρθιον ἐξαλαῶσαι,\nυἱὸν Λαέρτεω, Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκίʼ ἔχοντα.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ οἰμώξας ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δή με παλαίφατα θέσφαθʼ ἱκάνει.\nἔσκε τις ἐνθάδε μάντις ἀνὴρ ἠύς τε μέγας τε,\nΤήλεμος Εὐρυμίδης, ὃς μαντοσύνῃ ἐκέκαστο\nκαὶ μαντευόμενος κατεγήρα Κυκλώπεσσιν·\nὅς μοι ἔφη τάδε πάντα τελευτήσεσθαι ὀπίσσω,\nχειρῶν ἐξ Ὀδυσῆος ἁμαρτήσεσθαι ὀπωπῆς.\nἀλλʼ αἰεί τινα φῶτα μέγαν καὶ καλὸν ἐδέγμην\nἐνθάδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι, μεγάλην ἐπιειμένον ἀλκήν·\nνῦν δέ μʼ ἐὼν ὀλίγος τε καὶ οὐτιδανὸς καὶ ἄκικυς\nὀφθαλμοῦ ἀλάωσεν, ἐπεί μʼ ἐδαμάσσατο οἴνῳ.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε δεῦρʼ, Ὀδυσεῦ, ἵνα τοι πὰρ ξείνια θείω\nπομπήν τʼ ὀτρύνω δόμεναι κλυτὸν ἐννοσίγαιον·\nτοῦ γὰρ ἐγὼ πάϊς εἰμί, πατὴρ δʼ ἐμὸς εὔχεται εἶναι.\nαὐτὸς δʼ, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσʼ, ἰήσεται, οὐδέ τις ἄλλος\nοὔτε θεῶν μακάρων οὔτε θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nαἲ γὰρ δὴ ψυχῆς τε καὶ αἰῶνός σε δυναίμην\nεὖνιν ποιήσας πέμψαι δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω,\nὡς οὐκ ὀφθαλμόν γʼ ἰήσεται οὐδʼ ἐνοσίχθων.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι\nεὔχετο χεῖρʼ ὀρέγων εἰς οὐρανὸν ἀστερόεντα·\nκλῦθι, Ποσείδαον γαιήοχε κυανοχαῖτα,\nεἰ ἐτεόν γε σός εἰμι, πατὴρ δʼ ἐμὸς εὔχεαι εἶναι,\nδὸς μὴ Ὀδυσσῆα πτολιπόρθιον οἴκαδʼ ἱκέσθαι\nυἱὸν Λαέρτεω, Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκίʼ ἔχοντα.\nἀλλʼ εἴ οἱ μοῖρʼ ἐστὶ φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι\nοἶκον ἐυκτίμενον καὶ ἑὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nὀψὲ κακῶς ἔλθοι, ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους,\nνηὸς ἐπʼ ἀλλοτρίης, εὕροι δʼ ἐν πήματα οἴκῳ.\nὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος, τοῦ δʼ ἔκλυε κυανοχαίτης.\nαὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ ἐξαῦτις πολὺ μείζονα λᾶαν ἀείρας\nἧκʼ ἐπιδινήσας, ἐπέρεισε δὲ ἶνʼ ἀπέλεθρον,\nκὰδʼ δʼ ἔβαλεν μετόπισθε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο\nτυτθόν, ἐδεύησεν δʼ οἰήιον ἄκρον ἱκέσθαι.\nἐκλύσθη δὲ θάλασσα κατερχομένης ὑπὸ πέτρης·\nτὴν δὲ πρόσω φέρε κῦμα, θέμωσε δὲ χέρσον ἱκέσθαι.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἀφικόμεθʼ, ἔνθα περ ἄλλαι\nνῆες ἐύσσελμοι μένον ἁθρόαι, ἀμφὶ δʼ ἑταῖροι\nἥατʼ ὀδυρόμενοι, ἡμέας ποτιδέγμενοι αἰεί,\nνῆα μὲν ἔνθʼ ἐλθόντες ἐκέλσαμεν ἐν ψαμάθοισιν,\nἐκ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βῆμεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.\nμῆλα δὲ Κύκλωπος γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑλόντες\nδασσάμεθʼ, ὡς μή τίς μοι ἀτεμβόμενος κίοι ἴσης.\nἀρνειὸν δʼ ἐμοὶ οἴῳ ἐυκνήμιδες ἑταῖροι\nμήλων δαιομένων δόσαν ἔξοχα· τὸν δʼ ἐπὶ θινὶ\nΖηνὶ κελαινεφέι Κρονίδῃ, ὃς πᾶσιν ἀνάσσει,\nῥέξας μηρίʼ ἔκαιον· ὁ δʼ οὐκ ἐμπάζετο ἱρῶν,\nἀλλʼ ὅ γε μερμήριξεν ὅπως ἀπολοίατο πᾶσαι\nνῆες ἐύσσελμοι καὶ ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι.\nὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα\nἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·\nἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθε,\nδὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nδὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσα\nαὐτούς τʼ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι·\nοἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,\nἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.\nἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ,\nἄσμενοι ἐκ θανάτοιο, φίλους ὀλέσαντες ἑταίρους.\n\n### Book 10\n\nΑἰολίην δʼ ἐς νῆσον ἀφικόμεθʼ· ἔνθα δʼ ἔναιεν\nΑἴολος Ἱπποτάδης, φίλος ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν,\nπλωτῇ ἐνὶ νήσῳ· πᾶσαν δέ τέ μιν πέρι τεῖχος\nχάλκεον ἄρρηκτον, λισσὴ δʼ ἀναδέδρομε πέτρη.\nτοῦ καὶ δώδεκα παῖδες ἐνὶ μεγάροις γεγάασιν,\nἓξ μὲν θυγατέρες, ἓξ δʼ υἱέες ἡβώοντες·\nἔνθʼ ὅ γε θυγατέρας πόρεν υἱάσιν εἶναι ἀκοίτις.\nοἱ δʼ αἰεὶ παρὰ πατρὶ φίλῳ καὶ μητέρι κεδνῇ\nδαίνυνται, παρὰ δέ σφιν ὀνείατα μυρία κεῖται,\nκνισῆεν δέ τε δῶμα περιστεναχίζεται αὐλῇ\nἤματα· νύκτας δʼ αὖτε παρʼ αἰδοίῃς ἀλόχοισιν\nεὕδουσʼ ἔν τε τάπησι καὶ ἐν τρητοῖσι λέχεσσι.\nκαὶ μὲν τῶν ἱκόμεσθα πόλιν καὶ δώματα καλά.\nμῆνα δὲ πάντα φίλει με καὶ ἐξερέεινεν ἕκαστα,\nἼλιον Ἀργείων τε νέας καὶ νόστον Ἀχαιῶν·\nκαὶ μὲν ἐγὼ τῷ πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν κατέλεξα.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ καὶ ἐγὼν ὁδὸν ᾔτεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον\nπεμπέμεν, οὐδέ τι κεῖνος ἀνήνατο, τεῦχε δὲ πομπήν.\nδῶκε δέ μʼ ἐκδείρας ἀσκὸν βοὸς ἐννεώροιο,\nἔνθα δὲ βυκτάων ἀνέμων κατέδησε κέλευθα·\nκεῖνον γὰρ ταμίην ἀνέμων ποίησε Κρονίων,\nἠμὲν παυέμεναι ἠδʼ ὀρνύμεν, ὅν κʼ ἐθέλῃσι.\nνηὶ δʼ ἐνὶ γλαφυρῇ κατέδει μέρμιθι φαεινῇ\nἀργυρέῃ, ἵνα μή τι παραπνεύσῃ ὀλίγον περ·\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ πνοιὴν Ζεφύρου προέηκεν ἀῆναι,\nὄφρα φέροι νῆάς τε καὶ αὐτούς· οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔμελλεν\nἐκτελέειν· αὐτῶν γὰρ ἀπωλόμεθʼ ἀφραδίῃσιν.\nἐννῆμαρ μὲν ὁμῶς πλέομεν νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ,\nτῇ δεκάτῃ δʼ ἤδη ἀνεφαίνετο πατρὶς ἄρουρα,\nκαὶ δὴ πυρπολέοντας ἐλεύσσομεν ἐγγὺς ἐόντες·\nἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἐπήλυθε κεκμηῶτα,\nαἰεὶ γὰρ πόδα νηὸς ἐνώμων, οὐδέ τῳ ἄλλῳ\nδῶχʼ ἑτάρων, ἵνα θᾶσσον ἱκοίμεθα πατρίδα γαῖαν·\nοἱ δʼ ἕταροι ἐπέεσσι πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nκαί μʼ ἔφασαν χρυσόν τε καὶ ἄργυρον οἴκαδʼ ἄγεσθαι\nδῶρα παρʼ Αἰόλου μεγαλήτορος Ἱπποτάδαο.\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·\nὦ πόποι, ὡς ὅδε πᾶσι φίλος καὶ τίμιός ἐστιν\nἀνθρώποις, ὅτεών τε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἵκηται.\nπολλὰ μὲν ἐκ Τροίης ἄγεται κειμήλια καλὰ\nληίδος, ἡμεῖς δʼ αὖτε ὁμὴν ὁδὸν ἐκτελέσαντες\nοἴκαδε νισσόμεθα κενεὰς σὺν χεῖρας ἔχοντες·\nκαὶ νῦν οἱ τάδʼ ἔδωκε χαριζόμενος φιλότητι\nΑἴολος. ἀλλʼ ἄγε θᾶσσον ἰδώμεθα ὅττι τάδʼ ἐστίν,\nὅσσος τις χρυσός τε καὶ ἄργυρος ἀσκῷ ἔνεστιν.\nὣς ἔφασαν, βουλὴ δὲ κακὴ νίκησεν ἑταίρων·\nἀσκὸν μὲν λῦσαν, ἄνεμοι δʼ ἐκ πάντες ὄρουσαν.\nτοὺς δʼ αἶψʼ ἁρπάξασα φέρεν πόντονδε θύελλα\nκλαίοντας, γαίης ἄπο πατρίδος. αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε\nἐγρόμενος κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονα μερμήριξα,\nἠὲ πεσὼν ἐκ νηὸς ἀποφθίμην ἐνὶ πόντῳ,\nἦ ἀκέων τλαίην καὶ ἔτι ζωοῖσι μετείην.\nἀλλʼ ἔτλην καὶ ἔμεινα, καλυψάμενος δʼ ἐνὶ νηὶ\nκείμην. αἱ δʼ ἐφέροντο κακῇ ἀνέμοιο θυέλλῃ\nαὖτις ἐπʼ Αἰολίην νῆσον, στενάχοντο δʼ ἑταῖροι.\nἔνθα δʼ ἐπʼ ἠπείρου βῆμεν καὶ ἀφυσσάμεθʼ ὕδωρ,\nαἶψα δὲ δεῖπνον ἕλοντο θοῇς παρὰ νηυσὶν ἑταῖροι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σίτοιό τʼ ἐπασσάμεθʼ ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,\nδὴ τότʼ ἐγὼ κήρυκά τʼ ὀπασσάμενος καὶ ἑταῖρον\nβῆν εἰς Αἰόλου κλυτὰ δώματα· τὸν δʼ ἐκίχανον\nδαινύμενον παρὰ ᾗ τʼ ἀλόχῳ καὶ οἷσι τέκεσσιν.\nἐλθόντες δʼ ἐς δῶμα παρὰ σταθμοῖσιν ἐπʼ οὐδοῦ\nἑζόμεθʼ· οἱ δʼ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ἐθάμβεον ἔκ τʼ ἐρέοντο·\nπῶς ἦλθες, Ὀδυσεῦ; τίς τοι κακὸς ἔχραε δαίμων;\nἦ μέν σʼ ἐνδυκέως ἀπεπέμπομεν, ὄφρʼ ἀφίκοιο\nπατρίδα σὴν καὶ δῶμα καὶ εἴ πού τοι φίλον ἐστίν.\nὣς φάσαν, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ μετεφώνεον ἀχνύμενος κῆρ·\nἄασάν μʼ ἕταροί τε κακοὶ πρὸς τοῖσί τε ὕπνος\nσχέτλιος. ἀλλʼ ἀκέσασθε, φίλοι· δύναμις γὰρ ἐν ὑμῖν.\nὣς ἐφάμην μαλακοῖσι καθαπτόμενος ἐπέεσσιν,\nοἱ δʼ ἄνεῳ ἐγένοντο· πατὴρ δʼ ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·\nἔρρʼ ἐκ νήσου θᾶσσον, ἐλέγχιστε ζωόντων·\nοὐ γάρ μοι θέμις ἐστὶ κομιζέμεν οὐδʼ ἀποπέμπειν\nἄνδρα τόν, ὅς κε θεοῖσιν ἀπέχθηται μακάρεσσιν·\nἔρρε, ἐπεὶ ἄρα θεοῖσιν ἀπεχθόμενος τόδʼ ἱκάνεις.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἀπέπεμπε δόμων βαρέα στενάχοντα.\nἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ.\nτείρετο δʼ ἀνδρῶν θυμὸς ὑπʼ εἰρεσίης ἀλεγεινῆς\nἡμετέρῃ ματίῃ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι φαίνετο πομπή.\nἑξῆμαρ μὲν ὁμῶς πλέομεν νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ,\nἑβδομάτῃ δʼ ἱκόμεσθα Λάμου αἰπὺ πτολίεθρον,\nΤηλέπυλον Λαιστρυγονίην, ὅθι ποιμένα ποιμὴν\nἠπύει εἰσελάων, ὁ δέ τʼ ἐξελάων ὑπακούει.\nἔνθα κʼ ἄυπνος ἀνὴρ δοιοὺς ἐξήρατο μισθούς,\nτὸν μὲν βουκολέων, τὸν δʼ ἄργυφα μῆλα νομεύων·\nἐγγὺς γὰρ νυκτός τε καὶ ἤματός εἰσι κέλευθοι.\nἔνθʼ ἐπεὶ ἐς λιμένα κλυτὸν ἤλθομεν, ὃν πέρι πέτρη\nἠλίβατος τετύχηκε διαμπερὲς ἀμφοτέρωθεν,\nἀκταὶ δὲ προβλῆτες ἐναντίαι ἀλλήλῃσιν\nἐν στόματι προύχουσιν, ἀραιὴ δʼ εἴσοδός ἐστιν,\nἔνθʼ οἵ γʼ εἴσω πάντες ἔχον νέας ἀμφιελίσσας.\nαἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἔντοσθεν λιμένος κοίλοιο δέδεντο\nπλησίαι· οὐ μὲν γάρ ποτʼ ἀέξετο κῦμά γʼ ἐν αὐτῷ,\nοὔτε μέγʼ οὔτʼ ὀλίγον, λευκὴ δʼ ἦν ἀμφὶ γαλήνη·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν οἶος σχέθον ἔξω νῆα μέλαιναν,\nαὐτοῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῇ, πέτρης ἐκ πείσματα δήσας·\nἔστην δὲ σκοπιὴν ἐς παιπαλόεσσαν ἀνελθών.\nἔνθα μὲν οὔτε βοῶν οὔτʼ ἀνδρῶν φαίνετο ἔργα,\nκαπνὸν δʼ οἶον ὁρῶμεν ἀπὸ χθονὸς ἀίσσοντα.\nδὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάρους προΐειν πεύθεσθαι ἰόντας,\nοἵ τινες ἀνέρες εἶεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ σῖτον ἔδοντες,\nἄνδρε δύω κρίνας, τρίτατον κήρυχʼ ἅμʼ ὀπάσσας.\nοἱ δʼ ἴσαν ἐκβάντες λείην ὁδόν, ᾗ περ ἄμαξαι\nἄστυδʼ ἀφʼ ὑψηλῶν ὀρέων καταγίνεον ὕλην,\nκούρῃ δὲ ξύμβληντο πρὸ ἄστεος ὑδρευούσῃ,\nθυγατέρʼ ἰφθίμῃ Λαιστρυγόνος Ἀντιφάταο.\nἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐς κρήνην κατεβήσετο καλλιρέεθρον\nἈρτακίην· ἔνθεν γὰρ ὕδωρ προτὶ ἄστυ φέρεσκον·\nοἱ δὲ παριστάμενοι προσεφώνεον ἔκ τʼ ἐρέοντο\nὅς τις τῶνδʼ εἴη βασιλεὺς καὶ οἷσιν ἀνάσσοι·\nἡ δὲ μάλʼ αὐτίκα πατρὸς ἐπέφραδεν ὑψερεφὲς δῶ.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ εἰσῆλθον κλυτὰ δώματα, τὴν δὲ γυναῖκα\nεὗρον, ὅσην τʼ ὄρεος κορυφήν, κατὰ δʼ ἔστυγον αὐτήν.\nἡ δʼ αἶψʼ ἐξ ἀγορῆς ἐκάλει κλυτὸν Ἀντιφατῆα,\nὃν πόσιν, ὃς δὴ τοῖσιν ἐμήσατο λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον.\nαὐτίχʼ ἕνα μάρψας ἑτάρων ὡπλίσσατο δεῖπνον·\nτὼ δὲ δύʼ ἀίξαντε φυγῇ ἐπὶ νῆας ἱκέσθην.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ τεῦχε βοὴν διὰ ἄστεος· οἱ δʼ ἀίοντες\nφοίτων ἴφθιμοι Λαιστρυγόνες ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος,\nμυρίοι, οὐκ ἄνδρεσσιν ἐοικότες, ἀλλὰ Γίγασιν.\nοἵ ῥʼ ἀπὸ πετράων ἀνδραχθέσι χερμαδίοισιν\nβάλλον· ἄφαρ δὲ κακὸς κόναβος κατὰ νῆας ὀρώρει\nἀνδρῶν τʼ ὀλλυμένων νηῶν θʼ ἅμα ἀγνυμενάων·\nἰχθῦς δʼ ὣς πείροντες ἀτερπέα δαῖτα φέροντο.\nὄφρʼ οἱ τοὺς ὄλεκον λιμένος πολυβενθέος ἐντός,\nτόφρα δʼ ἐγὼ ξίφος ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ\nτῷ ἀπὸ πείσματʼ ἔκοψα νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο.\nαἶψα δʼ ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσα\nἐμβαλέειν κώπῃς, ἵνʼ ὑπὲκ κακότητα φύγοιμεν·\nοἱ δʼ ἅλα πάντες ἀνέρριψαν, δείσαντες ὄλεθρον.\nἀσπασίως δʼ ἐς πόντον ἐπηρεφέας φύγε πέτρας\nνηῦς ἐμή· αὐτὰρ αἱ ἄλλαι ἀολλέες αὐτόθʼ ὄλοντο.\nἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ,\nἄσμενοι ἐκ θανάτοιο, φίλους ὀλέσαντες ἑταίρους.\nΑἰαίην δʼ ἐς νῆσον ἀφικόμεθʼ· ἔνθα δʼ ἔναιε\nΚίρκη ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα,\nαὐτοκασιγνήτη ὀλοόφρονος Αἰήταο·\nἄμφω δʼ ἐκγεγάτην φαεσιμβρότου Ἠελίοιο\nμητρός τʼ ἐκ Πέρσης, τὴν Ὠκεανὸς τέκε παῖδα.\nἔνθα δʼ ἐπʼ ἀκτῆς νηὶ κατηγαγόμεσθα σιωπῇ\nναύλοχον ἐς λιμένα, καί τις θεὸς ἡγεμόνευεν.\nἔνθα τότʼ ἐκβάντες δύο τʼ ἤματα καὶ δύο νύκτας\nκείμεθʼ ὁμοῦ καμάτῳ τε καὶ ἄλγεσι θυμὸν ἔδοντες.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τρίτον ἦμαρ ἐυπλόκαμος τέλεσʼ Ἠώς,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἐμὸν ἔγχος ἑλὼν καὶ φάσγανον ὀξὺ\nκαρπαλίμως παρὰ νηὸς ἀνήιον ἐς περιωπήν,\nεἴ πως ἔργα ἴδοιμι βροτῶν ἐνοπήν τε πυθοίμην.\nἔστην δὲ σκοπιὴν ἐς παιπαλόεσσαν ἀνελθών,\nκαί μοι ἐείσατο καπνὸς ἀπὸ χθονὸς εὐρυοδείης,\nΚίρκης ἐν μεγάροισι, διὰ δρυμὰ πυκνὰ καὶ ὕλην.\nμερμήριξα δʼ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμὸν\nἐλθεῖν ἠδὲ πυθέσθαι, ἐπεὶ ἴδον αἴθοπα καπνόν.\nὧδε δέ μοι φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,\nπρῶτʼ ἐλθόντʼ ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης\nδεῖπνον ἑταίροισιν δόμεναι προέμεν τε πυθέσθαι.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ σχεδὸν ἦα κιὼν νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης,\nκαὶ τότε τίς με θεῶν ὀλοφύρατο μοῦνον ἐόντα,\nὅς ῥά μοι ὑψίκερων ἔλαφον μέγαν εἰς ὁδὸν αὐτὴν\nἧκεν. ὁ μὲν ποταμόνδε κατήιεν ἐκ νομοῦ ὕλης\nπιόμενος· δὴ γάρ μιν ἔχεν μένος ἠελίοιο.\nτὸν δʼ ἐγὼ ἐκβαίνοντα κατʼ ἄκνηστιν μέσα νῶτα\nπλῆξα· τὸ δʼ ἀντικρὺ δόρυ χάλκεον ἐξεπέρησε,\nκὰδ δʼ ἔπεσʼ ἐν κονίῃσι μακών, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔπτατο θυμός.\nτῷ δʼ ἐγὼ ἐμβαίνων δόρυ χάλκεον ἐξ ὠτειλῆς\nεἰρυσάμην· τὸ μὲν αὖθι κατακλίνας ἐπὶ γαίῃ\nεἴασʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σπασάμην ῥῶπάς τε λύγους τε,\nπεῖσμα δʼ, ὅσον τʼ ὄργυιαν, ἐυστρεφὲς ἀμφοτέρωθεν\nπλεξάμενος συνέδησα πόδας δεινοῖο πελώρου,\nβῆν δὲ καταλοφάδεια φέρων ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν\nἔγχει ἐρειδόμενος, ἐπεὶ οὔ πως ἦεν ἐπʼ ὤμου\nχειρὶ φέρειν ἑτέρῃ· μάλα γὰρ μέγα θηρίον ἦεν.\nκὰδʼ δʼ ἔβαλον προπάροιθε νεός, ἀνέγειρα δʼ ἑταίρους\nμειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι παρασταδὸν ἄνδρα ἕκαστον·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐ γάρ πω καταδυσόμεθʼ ἀχνύμενοί περ\nεἰς Ἀίδαο δόμους, πρὶν μόρσιμον ἦμαρ ἐπέλθῃ·\nἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ, ὄφρʼ ἐν νηὶ θοῇ βρῶσίς τε πόσις τε,\nμνησόμεθα βρώμης, μηδὲ τρυχώμεθα λιμῷ.\nὣς ἐφάμην, οἱ δʼ ὦκα ἐμοῖς ἐπέεσσι πίθοντο,\nἐκ δὲ καλυψάμενοι παρὰ θῖνʼ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο\nθηήσαντʼ ἔλαφον· μάλα γὰρ μέγα θηρίον ἦεν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τάρπησαν ὁρώμενοι ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,\nχεῖρας νιψάμενοι τεύχοντʼ ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα.\nὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα\nἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·\nἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθε,\nδὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἀγορὴν θέμενος μετὰ πᾶσιν ἔειπον·\nκέκλυτέ μευ μύθων, κακά περ πάσχοντες ἑταῖροι·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐ γάρ τʼ ἴδμεν, ὅπῃ ζόφος οὐδʼ ὅπῃ ἠώς,\nοὐδʼ ὅπῃ ἠέλιος φαεσίμβροτος εἶσʼ ὑπὸ γαῖαν,\nοὐδʼ ὅπῃ ἀννεῖται· ἀλλὰ φραζώμεθα θᾶσσον\nεἴ τις ἔτʼ ἔσται μῆτις. ἐγὼ δʼ οὐκ οἴομαι εἶναι.\nεἶδον γὰρ σκοπιὴν ἐς παιπαλόεσσαν ἀνελθὼν\nνῆσον, τὴν πέρι πόντος ἀπείριτος ἐστεφάνωται·\nαὐτὴ δὲ χθαμαλὴ κεῖται· καπνὸν δʼ ἐνὶ μέσσῃ\nἔδρακον ὀφθαλμοῖσι διὰ δρυμὰ πυκνὰ καὶ ὕλην.\nὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δὲ κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ\nμνησαμένοις ἔργων Λαιστρυγόνος Ἀντιφάταο\nΚύκλωπός τε βίης μεγαλήτορος, ἀνδροφάγοιο.\nκλαῖον δὲ λιγέως θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες·\nἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ τις πρῆξις ἐγίγνετο μυρομένοισιν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ δίχα πάντας ἐυκνήμιδας ἑταίρους\nἠρίθμεον, ἀρχὸν δὲ μετʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ὄπασσα·\nτῶν μὲν ἐγὼν ἦρχον, τῶν δʼ Εὐρύλοχος θεοειδής.\nκλήρους δʼ ἐν κυνέῃ χαλκήρεϊ πάλλομεν ὦκα·\nἐκ δʼ ἔθορε κλῆρος μεγαλήτορος Εὐρυλόχοιο.\nβῆ δʼ ἰέναι, ἅμα τῷ γε δύω καὶ εἴκοσʼ ἑταῖροι\nκλαίοντες· κατὰ δʼ ἄμμε λίπον γοόωντας ὄπισθεν.\nεὗρον δʼ ἐν βήσσῃσι τετυγμένα δώματα Κίρκης\nξεστοῖσιν λάεσσι, περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ·\nἀμφὶ δέ μιν λύκοι ἦσαν ὀρέστεροι ἠδὲ λέοντες,\nτοὺς αὐτὴ κατέθελξεν, ἐπεὶ κακὰ φάρμακʼ ἔδωκεν.\nοὐδʼ οἵ γʼ ὡρμήθησαν ἐπʼ ἀνδράσιν, ἀλλʼ ἄρα τοί γε\nοὐρῇσιν μακρῇσι περισσαίνοντες ἀνέσταν.\nὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἀμφὶ ἄνακτα κύνες δαίτηθεν ἰόντα\nσαίνωσʼ, αἰεὶ γάρ τε φέρει μειλίγματα θυμοῦ,\nὣς τοὺς ἀμφὶ λύκοι κρατερώνυχες ἠδὲ λέοντες\nσαῖνον· τοὶ δʼ ἔδεισαν, ἐπεὶ ἴδον αἰνὰ πέλωρα.\nἔσταν δʼ ἐν προθύροισι θεᾶς καλλιπλοκάμοιο,\nΚίρκης δʼ ἔνδον ἄκουον ἀειδούσης ὀπὶ καλῇ,\nἱστὸν ἐποιχομένης μέγαν ἄμβροτον, οἷα θεάων\nλεπτά τε καὶ χαρίεντα καὶ ἀγλαὰ ἔργα πέλονται.\nτοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε Πολίτης ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν,\nὅς μοι κήδιστος ἑτάρων ἦν κεδνότατός τε·\nὦ φίλοι, ἔνδον γάρ τις ἐποιχομένη μέγαν ἱστὸν\nκαλὸν ἀοιδιάει, δάπεδον δʼ ἅπαν ἀμφιμέμυκεν,\nἢ θεὸς ἠὲ γυνή· ἀλλὰ φθεγγώμεθα θᾶσσον.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, τοὶ δὲ φθέγγοντο καλεῦντες.\nἡ δʼ αἶψʼ ἐξελθοῦσα θύρας ὤιξε φαεινὰς\nκαὶ κάλει· οἱ δʼ ἅμα πάντες ἀιδρείῃσιν ἕποντο·\nΕὐρύλοχος δʼ ὑπέμεινεν, ὀισάμενος δόλον εἶναι.\nεἷσεν δʼ εἰσαγαγοῦσα κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε,\nἐν δέ σφιν τυρόν τε καὶ ἄλφιτα καὶ μέλι χλωρὸν\nοἴνῳ Πραμνείῳ ἐκύκα· ἀνέμισγε δὲ σίτῳ\nφάρμακα λύγρʼ, ἵνα πάγχυ λαθοίατο πατρίδος αἴης.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δῶκέν τε καὶ ἔκπιον, αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα\nῥάβδῳ πεπληγυῖα κατὰ συφεοῖσιν ἐέργνυ.\nοἱ δὲ συῶν μὲν ἔχον κεφαλὰς φωνήν τε τρίχας τε\nκαὶ δέμας, αὐτὰρ νοῦς ἦν ἔμπεδος, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ.\nὣς οἱ μὲν κλαίοντες ἐέρχατο, τοῖσι δὲ Κίρκη\nπάρ ῥʼ ἄκυλον βάλανόν τε βάλεν καρπόν τε κρανείης\nἔδμεναι, οἷα σύες χαμαιευνάδες αἰὲν ἔδουσιν.\nΕὐρύλοχος δʼ αἶψʼ ἦλθε θοὴν ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν\nἀγγελίην ἑτάρων ἐρέων καὶ ἀδευκέα πότμον.\nοὐδέ τι ἐκφάσθαι δύνατο ἔπος ἱέμενός περ,\nκῆρ ἄχεϊ μεγάλῳ βεβολημένος· ἐν δέ οἱ ὄσσε\nδακρυόφιν πίμπλαντο, γόον δʼ ὠίετο θυμός.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή μιν πάντες ἀγασσάμεθʼ ἐξερέοντες,\nκαὶ τότε τῶν ἄλλων ἑτάρων κατέλεξεν ὄλεθρον·\nἤιομεν, ὡς ἐκέλευες, ἀνὰ δρυμά, φαίδιμʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ·\nεὕρομεν ἐν βήσσῃσι τετυγμένα δώματα καλὰ\nξεστοῖσιν λάεσσι, περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ.\nἔνθα δέ τις μέγαν ἱστὸν ἐποιχομένη λίγʼ ἄειδεν,\nἢ θεὸς ἠὲ γυνή· τοὶ δὲ φθέγγοντο καλεῦντες.\nἡ δʼ αἶψʼ ἐξελθοῦσα θύρας ὤιξε φαεινὰς\nκαὶ κάλει· οἱ δʼ ἅμα πάντες ἀιδρείῃσιν ἕποντο·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ὑπέμεινα, ὀισάμενος δόλον εἶναι.\nοἱ δʼ ἅμʼ ἀιστώθησαν ἀολλέες, οὐδέ τις αὐτῶν\nἐξεφάνη· δηρὸν δὲ καθήμενος ἐσκοπίαζον.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ περὶ μὲν ξίφος ἀργυρόηλον\nὤμοιιν βαλόμην, μέγα χάλκεον, ἀμφὶ δὲ τόξα·\nτὸν δʼ ἂψ ἠνώγεα αὐτὴν ὁδὸν ἡγήσασθαι.\nαὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ ἀμφοτέρῃσι λαβὼν ἐλλίσσετο γούνων\nκαί μʼ ὀλοφυρόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nμή μʼ ἄγε κεῖσʼ ἀέκοντα, διοτρεφές, ἀλλὰ λίπʼ αὐτοῦ.\nοἶδα γάρ, ὡς οὔτʼ αὐτὸς ἐλεύσεαι οὔτε τινʼ ἄλλον\nἄξεις σῶν ἑτάρων. ἀλλὰ ξὺν τοίσδεσι θᾶσσον\nφεύγωμεν· ἔτι γάρ κεν ἀλύξαιμεν κακὸν ἦμαρ.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nΕὐρύλοχʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν σὺ μένʼ αὐτοῦ τῷδʼ ἐνὶ χώρῳ\nἔσθων καὶ πίνων κοίλῃ παρὰ νηὶ μελαίνῃ·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν εἶμι, κρατερὴ δέ μοι ἔπλετʼ ἀνάγκη.\nὣς εἰπὼν παρὰ νηὸς ἀνήιον ἠδὲ θαλάσσης.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἄρʼ ἔμελλον ἰὼν ἱερὰς ἀνὰ βήσσας\nΚίρκης ἵξεσθαι πολυφαρμάκου ἐς μέγα δῶμα,\nἔνθα μοι Ἑρμείας χρυσόρραπις ἀντεβόλησεν\nἐρχομένῳ πρὸς δῶμα, νεηνίῃ ἀνδρὶ ἐοικώς,\nπρῶτον ὑπηνήτῃ, τοῦ περ χαριεστάτη ἥβη·\nἔν τʼ ἄρα μοι φῦ χειρί, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·\nπῇ δὴ αὖτʼ, ὦ δύστηνε, διʼ ἄκριας ἔρχεαι οἶος,\nχώρου ἄιδρις ἐών; ἕταροι δέ τοι οἵδʼ ἐνὶ Κίρκης\nἔρχαται ὥς τε σύες πυκινοὺς κευθμῶνας ἔχοντες.\nἦ τοὺς λυσόμενος δεῦρʼ ἔρχεαι; οὐδέ σέ φημι\nαὐτὸν νοστήσειν, μενέεις δὲ σύ γʼ, ἔνθα περ ἄλλοι.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε δή σε κακῶν ἐκλύσομαι ἠδὲ σαώσω.\nτῆ, τόδε φάρμακον ἐσθλὸν ἔχων ἐς δώματα Κίρκης\nἔρχευ, ὅ κέν τοι κρατὸς ἀλάλκῃσιν κακὸν ἦμαρ.\nπάντα δέ τοι ἐρέω ὀλοφώια δήνεα Κίρκης.\nτεύξει τοι κυκεῶ, βαλέει δʼ ἐν φάρμακα σίτῳ.\nἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς θέλξαι σε δυνήσεται· οὐ γὰρ ἐάσει\nφάρμακον ἐσθλόν, ὅ τοι δώσω, ἐρέω δὲ ἕκαστα.\nὁππότε κεν Κίρκη σʼ ἐλάσῃ περιμήκεϊ ῥάβδῳ,\nδὴ τότε σὺ ξίφος ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ\nΚίρκῃ ἐπαῖξαι, ὥς τε κτάμεναι μενεαίνων.\nἡ δέ σʼ ὑποδείσασα κελήσεται εὐνηθῆναι·\nἔνθα σὺ μηκέτʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπανήνασθαι θεοῦ εὐνήν,\nὄφρα κέ τοι λύσῃ θʼ ἑτάρους αὐτόν τε κομίσσῃ·\nἀλλὰ κέλεσθαί μιν μακάρων μέγαν ὅρκον ὀμόσσαι,\nμή τί τοι αὐτῷ πῆμα κακὸν βουλευσέμεν ἄλλο,\nμή σʼ ἀπογυμνωθέντα κακὸν καὶ ἀνήνορα θήῃ.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας πόρε φάρμακον ἀργεϊφόντης\nἐκ γαίης ἐρύσας, καί μοι φύσιν αὐτοῦ ἔδειξε.\nῥίζῃ μὲν μέλαν ἔσκε, γάλακτι δὲ εἴκελον ἄνθος·\nμῶλυ δέ μιν καλέουσι θεοί· χαλεπὸν δέ τʼ ὀρύσσειν\nἀνδράσι γε θνητοῖσι, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα δύνανται.\nἙρμείας μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀπέβη πρὸς μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον\nνῆσον ἀνʼ ὑλήεσσαν, ἐγὼ δʼ ἐς δώματα Κίρκης\nἤια, πολλὰ δέ μοι κραδίη πόρφυρε κιόντι.\nἔστην δʼ εἰνὶ θύρῃσι θεᾶς καλλιπλοκάμοιο·\nἔνθα στὰς ἐβόησα, θεὰ δέ μευ ἔκλυεν αὐδῆς.\nἡ δʼ αἶψʼ ἐξελθοῦσα θύρας ὤιξε φαεινὰς\nκαὶ κάλει· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἑπόμην ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ.\nεἷσε δέ μʼ εἰσαγαγοῦσα ἐπὶ θρόνου ἀργυροήλου\nκαλοῦ δαιδαλέου· ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν·\nτεῦχε δέ μοι κυκεῶ χρυσέῳ δέπαι, ὄφρα πίοιμι,\nἐν δέ τε φάρμακον ἧκε, κακὰ φρονέουσʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δῶκέν τε καὶ ἔκπιον, οὐδέ μʼ ἔθελξε,\nῥάβδῳ πεπληγυῖα ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nἔρχεο νῦν συφεόνδε, μετʼ ἄλλων λέξο ἑταίρων.\nὣς φάτʼ, ἐγὼ δʼ ἄορ ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ\nΚίρκῃ ἐπήιξα ὥς τε κτάμεναι μενεαίνων.\nἡ δὲ μέγα ἰάχουσα ὑπέδραμε καὶ λάβε γούνων,\nκαί μʼ ὀλοφυρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nτίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;\nθαῦμά μʼ ἔχει ὡς οὔ τι πιὼν τάδε φάρμακʼ ἐθέλχθης·\nοὐδὲ γὰρ οὐδέ τις ἄλλος ἀνὴρ τάδε φάρμακʼ ἀνέτλη,\nὅς κε πίῃ καὶ πρῶτον ἀμείψεται ἕρκος ὀδόντων.\nσοὶ δέ τις ἐν στήθεσσιν ἀκήλητος νόος ἐστίν.\nἦ σύ γʼ Ὀδυσσεύς ἐσσι πολύτροπος, ὅν τέ μοι αἰεὶ\nφάσκεν ἐλεύσεσθαι χρυσόρραπις ἀργεϊφόντης,\nἐκ Τροίης ἀνιόντα θοῇ σὺν νηὶ μελαίνῃ.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε δὴ κολεῷ μὲν ἄορ θέο, νῶι δʼ ἔπειτα\nεὐνῆς ἡμετέρης ἐπιβείομεν, ὄφρα μιγέντε\nεὐνῇ καὶ φιλότητι πεποίθομεν ἀλλήλοισιν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nὦ Κίρκη, πῶς γάρ με κέλεαι σοὶ ἤπιον εἶναι,\nἥ μοι σῦς μὲν ἔθηκας ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἑταίρους,\nαὐτὸν δʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἔχουσα δολοφρονέουσα κελεύεις\nἐς θάλαμόν τʼ ἰέναι καὶ σῆς ἐπιβήμεναι εὐνῆς,\nὄφρα με γυμνωθέντα κακὸν καὶ ἀνήνορα θήῃς.\nοὐδʼ ἂν ἐγώ γʼ ἐθέλοιμι τεῆς ἐπιβήμεναι εὐνῆς,\nεἰ μή μοι τλαίης γε, θεά, μέγαν ὅρκον ὀμόσσαι\nμή τί μοι αὐτῷ πῆμα κακὸν βουλευσέμεν ἄλλο.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀπώμνυεν, ὡς ἐκέλευον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσέν τε τελεύτησέν τε τὸν ὅρκον,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἐγὼ Κίρκης ἐπέβην περικαλλέος εὐνῆς.\nἀμφίπολοι δʼ ἄρα τέως μὲν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πένοντο\nτέσσαρες, αἵ οἱ δῶμα κάτα δρήστειραι ἔασι·\nγίγνονται δʼ ἄρα ταί γʼ ἔκ τε κρηνέων ἀπό τʼ ἀλσέων\nἔκ θʼ ἱερῶν ποταμῶν, οἵ τʼ εἰς ἅλαδε προρέουσι.\nτάων ἡ μὲν ἔβαλλε θρόνοις ἔνι ῥήγεα καλὰ\nπορφύρεα καθύπερθʼ, ὑπένερθε δὲ λῖθʼ ὑπέβαλλεν·\nἡ δʼ ἑτέρη προπάροιθε θρόνων ἐτίταινε τραπέζας\nἀργυρέας, ἐπὶ δέ σφι τίθει χρύσεια κάνεια·\nἡ δὲ τρίτη κρητῆρι μελίφρονα οἶνον ἐκίρνα\nἡδὺν ἐν ἀργυρέῳ, νέμε δὲ χρύσεια κύπελλα·\nἡ δὲ τετάρτη ὕδωρ ἐφόρει καὶ πῦρ ἀνέκαιε\nπολλὸν ὑπὸ τρίποδι μεγάλῳ· ἰαίνετο δʼ ὕδωρ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ ζέσσεν ὕδωρ ἐνὶ ἤνοπι χαλκῷ,\nἔς ῥʼ ἀσάμινθον ἕσασα λόʼ ἐκ τρίποδος μεγάλοιο,\nθυμῆρες κεράσασα, κατὰ κρατός τε καὶ ὤμων,\nὄφρα μοι ἐκ κάματον θυμοφθόρον εἵλετο γυίων.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ λοῦσέν τε καὶ ἔχρισεν λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ,\nἀμφὶ δέ με χλαῖναν καλὴν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,\nεἷσε δέ μʼ εἰσαγαγοῦσα ἐπὶ θρόνου ἀργυροήλου\nκαλοῦ δαιδαλέου, ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν·\nχέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα\nκαλῇ χρυσείῃ, ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,\nνίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.\nσῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,\nεἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων.\nἐσθέμεναι δʼ ἐκέλευεν· ἐμῷ δʼ οὐχ ἥνδανε θυμῷ,\nἀλλʼ ἥμην ἀλλοφρονέων, κακὰ δʼ ὄσσετο θυμός.\nΚίρκη δʼ ὡς ἐνόησεν ἔμʼ ἥμενον οὐδʼ ἐπὶ σίτῳ\nχεῖρας ἰάλλοντα, κρατερὸν δέ με πένθος ἔχοντα,\nἄγχι παρισταμένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nτίφθʼ οὕτως, Ὀδυσεῦ, κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζεαι ἶσος ἀναύδῳ,\nθυμὸν ἔδων, βρώμης δʼ οὐχ ἅπτεαι οὐδὲ ποτῆτος;\nἦ τινά που δόλον ἄλλον ὀίεαι· οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ\nδειδίμεν· ἤδη γάρ τοι ἀπώμοσα καρτερὸν ὅρκον.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nὦ Κίρκη, τίς γάρ κεν ἀνήρ, ὃς ἐναίσιμος εἴη,\nπρὶν τλαίη πάσσασθαι ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,\nπρὶν λύσασθʼ ἑτάρους καὶ ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδέσθαι;\nἀλλʼ εἰ δὴ πρόφρασσα πιεῖν φαγέμεν τε κελεύεις,\nλῦσον, ἵνʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδω ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους.\nὣς ἐφάμην, Κίρκη δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει\nῥάβδον ἔχουσʼ ἐν χειρί, θύρας δʼ ἀνέῳξε συφειοῦ,\nἐκ δʼ ἔλασεν σιάλοισιν ἐοικότας ἐννεώροισιν.\nοἱ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἔστησαν ἐναντίοι, ἡ δὲ διʼ αὐτῶν\nἐρχομένη προσάλειφεν ἑκάστῳ φάρμακον ἄλλο.\nτῶν δʼ ἐκ μὲν μελέων τρίχες ἔρρεον, ἃς πρὶν ἔφυσε\nφάρμακον οὐλόμενον, τό σφιν πόρε πότνια Κίρκη·\nἄνδρες δʼ ἂψ ἐγένοντο νεώτεροι ἢ πάρος ἦσαν,\nκαὶ πολὺ καλλίονες καὶ μείζονες εἰσοράασθαι.\nἔγνωσαν δέ μʼ ἐκεῖνοι ἔφυν τʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἕκαστος.\nπᾶσιν δʼ ἱμερόεις ὑπέδυ γόος, ἀμφὶ δὲ δῶμα\nσμερδαλέον κονάβιζε· θεὰ δʼ ἐλέαιρε καὶ αὐτή.\nἡ δέ μευ ἄγχι στᾶσα προσηύδα δῖα θεάων·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nἔρχεο νῦν ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.\nνῆα μὲν ἂρ πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσατε ἤπειρόνδε,\nκτήματα δʼ ἐν σπήεσσι πελάσσατε ὅπλα τε πάντα·\nαὐτὸς δʼ ἂψ ἰέναι καὶ ἄγειν ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ,\nβῆν δʼ ἰέναι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.\nεὗρον ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ νηὶ θοῇ ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους\nοἴκτρʼ ὀλοφυρομένους, θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντας.\nὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἄγραυλοι πόριες περὶ βοῦς ἀγελαίας,\nἐλθούσας ἐς κόπρον, ἐπὴν βοτάνης κορέσωνται,\nπᾶσαι ἅμα σκαίρουσιν ἐναντίαι· οὐδʼ ἔτι σηκοὶ\nἴσχουσʼ, ἀλλʼ ἁδινὸν μυκώμεναι ἀμφιθέουσι·\nμητέρας· ὣς ἔμʼ ἐκεῖνοι ἐπεὶ ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσι,\nδακρυόεντες ἔχυντο· δόκησε δʼ ἄρα σφίσι θυμὸς\nὣς ἔμεν, ὡς εἰ πατρίδʼ ἱκοίατο καὶ πόλιν αὐτὴν\nτρηχείης Ἰθάκης, ἵνα τʼ ἔτραφεν ἠδʼ ἐγένοντο.\nκαί μʼ ὀλοφυρόμενοι ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·\nσοὶ μὲν νοστήσαντι, διοτρεφές, ὣς ἐχάρημεν,\nὡς εἴ τʼ εἰς Ἰθάκην ἀφικοίμεθα πατρίδα γαῖαν·\nἀλλʼ ἄγε, τῶν ἄλλων ἑτάρων κατάλεξον ὄλεθρον.\nὣς ἔφαν, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ προσέφην μαλακοῖς ἐπέεσσι·\nνῆα μὲν ἂρ πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσομεν ἤπειρόνδε,\nκτήματα δʼ ἐν σπήεσσι πελάσσομεν ὅπλα τε πάντα·\nαὐτοὶ δʼ ὀτρύνεσθε ἐμοὶ ἅμα πάντες ἕπεσθαι,\nὄφρα ἴδηθʼ ἑτάρους ἱεροῖς ἐν δώμασι Κίρκης\nπίνοντας καὶ ἔδοντας· ἐπηετανὸν γὰρ ἔχουσιν.\nὣς ἐφάμην, οἱ δʼ ὦκα ἐμοῖς ἐπέεσσι πίθοντο.\nΕὐρύλοχος δέ μοι οἶος ἐρύκανε πάντας ἑταίρους·\nκαί σφεας φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἆ δειλοί, πόσʼ ἴμεν; τί κακῶν ἱμείρετε τούτων;\nΚίρκης ἐς μέγαρον καταβήμεναι, ἥ κεν ἅπαντας\nἢ σῦς ἠὲ λύκους ποιήσεται ἠὲ λέοντας,\nοἵ κέν οἱ μέγα δῶμα φυλάσσοιμεν καὶ ἀνάγκῃ,\nὥς περ Κύκλωψ ἔρξʼ, ὅτε οἱ μέσσαυλον ἵκοντο\nἡμέτεροι ἕταροι, σὺν δʼ ὁ θρασὺς εἵπετʼ Ὀδυσσεύς·\nτούτου γὰρ καὶ κεῖνοι ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὄλοντο.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε μετὰ φρεσὶ μερμήριξα,\nσπασσάμενος τανύηκες ἄορ παχέος παρὰ μηροῦ,\nτῷ οἱ ἀποπλήξας κεφαλὴν οὖδάσδε πελάσσαι,\nκαὶ πηῷ περ ἐόντι μάλα σχεδόν· ἀλλά μʼ ἑταῖροι\nμειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσιν ἐρήτυον ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος·\nδιογενές, τοῦτον μὲν ἐάσομεν, εἰ σὺ κελεύεις,\nαὐτοῦ πὰρ νηί τε μένειν καὶ νῆα ἔρυσθαι·\nἡμῖν δʼ ἡγεμόνευʼ ἱερὰ πρὸς δώματα Κίρκης.\nὣς φάμενοι παρὰ νηὸς ἀνήιον ἠδὲ θαλάσσης.\nοὐδὲ μὲν Εὐρύλοχος κοίλῃ παρὰ νηὶ λέλειπτο,\nἀλλʼ ἕπετʼ· ἔδεισεν γὰρ ἐμὴν ἔκπαγλον ἐνιπήν.\nτόφρα δὲ τοὺς ἄλλους ἑτάρους ἐν δώμασι Κίρκη\nἐνδυκέως λοῦσέν τε καὶ ἔχρισεν λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ,\nἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα χλαίνας οὔλας βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνας·\nδαινυμένους δʼ ἐὺ πάντας ἐφεύρομεν ἐν μεγάροισιν.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ἀλλήλους εἶδον φράσσαντό τʼ ἐσάντα,\nκλαῖον ὀδυρόμενοι, περὶ δὲ στεναχίζετο δῶμα.\nἡ δέ μευ ἄγχι στᾶσα προσηύδα δῖα θεάων·\nμηκέτι νῦν θαλερὸν γόον ὄρνυτε· οἶδα καὶ αὐτὴ\nἠμὲν ὅσʼ ἐν πόντῳ πάθετʼ ἄλγεα ἰχθυόεντι,\nἠδʼ ὅσʼ ἀνάρσιοι ἄνδρες ἐδηλήσαντʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου.\nἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ ἐσθίετε βρώμην καὶ πίνετε οἶνον,\nεἰς ὅ κεν αὖτις θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι λάβητε,\nοἷον ὅτε πρώτιστον ἐλείπετε πατρίδα γαῖαν\nτρηχείης Ἰθάκης. νῦν δʼ ἀσκελέες καὶ ἄθυμοι,\nαἰὲν ἄλης χαλεπῆς μεμνημένοι, οὐδέ ποθʼ ὕμιν\nθυμὸς ἐν εὐφροσύνῃ, ἐπεὶ ἦ μάλα πολλὰ πέποσθε.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.\nἔνθα μὲν ἤματα πάντα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν\nἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἐνιαυτὸς ἔην, περὶ δʼ ἔτραπον ὧραι\nμηνῶν φθινόντων, περὶ δʼ ἤματα μακρὰ τελέσθη,\nκαὶ τότε μʼ ἐκκαλέσαντες ἔφαν ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι·\nδαιμόνιʼ, ἤδη νῦν μιμνήσκεο πατρίδος αἴης,\nεἴ τοι θέσφατόν ἐστι σαωθῆναι καὶ ἱκέσθαι\nοἶκον ἐς ὑψόροφον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nὣς ἔφαν, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.\nὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα\nἥμεθα, δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·\nἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθεν,\nοἱ μὲν κοιμήσαντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ Κίρκης ἐπιβὰς περικαλλέος εὐνῆς\nγούνων ἐλλιτάνευσα, θεὰ δέ μευ ἔκλυεν αὐδῆς·\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·\nὢ Κίρκη, τέλεσόν μοι ὑπόσχεσιν ἥν περ ὑπέστης,\nοἴκαδε πεμψέμεναι· θυμὸς δέ μοι ἔσσυται ἤδη,\nἠδʼ ἄλλων ἑτάρων, οἵ μευ φθινύθουσι φίλον κῆρ\nἀμφʼ ἔμʼ ὀδυρόμενοι, ὅτε που σύ γε νόσφι γένηαι.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nμηκέτι νῦν ἀέκοντες ἐμῷ ἐνὶ μίμνετε οἴκῳ.\nἀλλʼ ἄλλην χρὴ πρῶτον ὁδὸν τελέσαι καὶ ἱκέσθαι\nεἰς Ἀίδαο δόμους καὶ ἐπαινῆς Περσεφονείης,\nψυχῇ χρησομένους Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο,\nμάντηος ἀλαοῦ, τοῦ τε φρένες ἔμπεδοί εἰσι·\nτῷ καὶ τεθνηῶτι νόον πόρε Περσεφόνεια,\nοἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι, τοὶ δὲ σκιαὶ ἀίσσουσιν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ·\nκλαῖον δʼ ἐν λεχέεσσι καθήμενος, οὐδέ νύ μοι κῆρ\nἤθελʼ ἔτι ζώειν καὶ ὁρᾶν φάος ἠελίοιο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κλαίων τε κυλινδόμενος τʼ ἐκορέσθην,\nκαὶ τότε δή μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nὢ Κίρκη, τίς γὰρ ταύτην ὁδὸν ἡγεμονεύσει;\nεἰς Ἄϊδος δʼ οὔ πώ τις ἀφίκετο νηὶ μελαίνῃ.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nμή τί τοι ἡγεμόνος γε ποθὴ παρὰ νηὶ μελέσθω,\nἱστὸν δὲ στήσας, ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λευκὰ πετάσσας\nἧσθαι· τὴν δέ κέ τοι πνοιὴ Βορέαο φέρῃσιν.\nἀλλʼ ὁπότʼ ἂν δὴ νηὶ διʼ Ὠκεανοῖο περήσῃς,\nἔνθʼ ἀκτή τε λάχεια καὶ ἄλσεα Περσεφονείης,\nμακραί τʼ αἴγειροι καὶ ἰτέαι ὠλεσίκαρποι,\nνῆα μὲν αὐτοῦ κέλσαι ἐπʼ Ὠκεανῷ βαθυδίνῃ,\nαὐτὸς δʼ εἰς Ἀίδεω ἰέναι δόμον εὐρώεντα.\nἔνθα μὲν εἰς Ἀχέροντα Πυριφλεγέθων τε ῥέουσιν\nΚώκυτός θʼ, ὃς δὴ Στυγὸς ὕδατός ἐστιν ἀπορρώξ,\nπέτρη τε ξύνεσίς τε δύω ποταμῶν ἐριδούπων·\nἔνθα δʼ ἔπειθʼ, ἥρως, χριμφθεὶς πέλας, ὥς σε κελεύω,\nβόθρον ὀρύξαι, ὅσον τε πυγούσιον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,\nἀμφʼ αὐτῷ δὲ χοὴν χεῖσθαι πᾶσιν νεκύεσσιν,\nπρῶτα μελικρήτῳ, μετέπειτα δὲ ἡδέι οἴνῳ,\nτὸ τρίτον αὖθʼ ὕδατι· ἐπὶ δʼ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ παλύνειν.\nπολλὰ δὲ γουνοῦσθαι νεκύων ἀμενηνὰ κάρηνα,\nἐλθὼν εἰς Ἰθάκην στεῖραν βοῦν, ἥ τις ἀρίστη,\nῥέξειν ἐν μεγάροισι πυρήν τʼ ἐμπλησέμεν ἐσθλῶν,\nΤειρεσίῃ δʼ ἀπάνευθεν ὄιν ἱερευσέμεν οἴῳ\nπαμμέλανʼ, ὃς μήλοισι μεταπρέπει ὑμετέροισιν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν εὐχῇσι λίσῃ κλυτὰ ἔθνεα νεκρῶν,\nἔνθʼ ὄιν ἀρνειὸν ῥέζειν θῆλύν τε μέλαιναν\nεἰς Ἔρεβος στρέψας, αὐτὸς δʼ ἀπονόσφι τραπέσθαι\nἱέμενος ποταμοῖο ῥοάων· ἔνθα δὲ πολλαὶ\nψυχαὶ ἐλεύσονται νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων.\nδὴ τότʼ ἔπειθʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρῦναι καὶ ἀνῶξαι\nμῆλα, τὰ δὴ κατάκειτʼ ἐσφαγμένα νηλέι χαλκῷ,\nδείραντας κατακῆαι, ἐπεύξασθαι δὲ θεοῖσιν,\nἰφθίμῳ τʼ Ἀίδῃ καὶ ἐπαινῇ Περσεφονείῃ·\nαὐτὸς δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ\nἧσθαι, μηδὲ ἐᾶν νεκύων ἀμενηνὰ κάρηνα\nαἵματος ἆσσον ἴμεν, πρὶν Τειρεσίαο πυθέσθαι.\nἔνθα τοι αὐτίκα μάντις ἐλεύσεται, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,\nὅς κέν τοι εἴπῃσιν ὁδὸν καὶ μέτρα κελεύθου\nνόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσεαι ἰχθυόεντα.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτίκα δὲ χρυσόθρονος ἤλυθεν Ἠώς.\nἀμφὶ δέ με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα ἕσσεν·\nαὐτὴ δʼ ἀργύφεον φᾶρος μέγα ἕννυτο νύμφη,\nλεπτὸν καὶ χαρίεν, περὶ δὲ ζώνην βάλετʼ ἰξυῖ\nκαλὴν χρυσείην, κεφαλῇ δʼ ἐπέθηκε καλύπτρην.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ διὰ δώματʼ ἰὼν ὤτρυνον ἑταίρους\nμειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι παρασταδὸν ἄνδρα ἕκαστον·\nμηκέτι νῦν εὕδοντες ἀωτεῖτε γλυκὺν ὕπνον,\nἀλλʼ ἴομεν· δὴ γάρ μοι ἐπέφραδε πότνια Κίρκη.\nὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.\nοὐδὲ μὲν οὐδʼ ἔνθεν περ ἀπήμονας ἦγον ἑταίρους.\nἘλπήνωρ δέ τις ἔσκε νεώτατος, οὔτε τι λίην\nἄλκιμος ἐν πολέμῳ οὔτε φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἀρηρώς·\nὅς μοι ἄνευθʼ ἑτάρων ἱεροῖς ἐν δώμασι Κίρκης,\nψύχεος ἱμείρων, κατελέξατο οἰνοβαρείων.\nκινυμένων δʼ ἑτάρων ὅμαδον καὶ δοῦπον ἀκούσας\nἐξαπίνης ἀνόρουσε καὶ ἐκλάθετο φρεσὶν ᾗσιν\nἄψορρον καταβῆναι ἰὼν ἐς κλίμακα μακρήν,\nἀλλὰ καταντικρὺ τέγεος πέσεν· ἐκ δέ οἱ αὐχὴν\nἀστραγάλων ἐάγη, ψυχὴ δʼ Ἄϊδόσδε κατῆλθεν.\nἐρχομένοισι δὲ τοῖσιν ἐγὼ μετὰ μῦθον ἔειπον·\nφάσθε νύ που οἶκόνδε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν\nἔρχεσθʼ· ἄλλην δʼ ἧμιν ὁδὸν τεκμήρατο Κίρκη,\nεἰς Ἀίδαο δόμους καὶ ἐπαινῆς Περσεφονείης\nψυχῇ χρησομένους Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο.\nὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δὲ κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,\nἑζόμενοι δὲ κατʼ αὖθι γόων τίλλοντό τε χαίτας·\nἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ τις πρῆξις ἐγίγνετο μυρομένοισιν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης\nᾔομεν ἀχνύμενοι θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες,\nτόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ οἰχομένη Κίρκη παρὰ νηὶ μελαίνῃ\nἀρνειὸν κατέδησεν ὄιν θῆλύν τε μέλαιναν,\nῥεῖα παρεξελθοῦσα· τίς ἂν θεὸν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα\nὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδοιτʼ ἢ ἔνθʼ ἢ ἔνθα κιόντα;\n\n### Book 11\n\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλθομεν ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,\nνῆα μὲν ἂρ πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσαμεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν,\nἐν δʼ ἱστὸν τιθέμεσθα καὶ ἱστία νηὶ μελαίνῃ,\nἐν δὲ τὰ μῆλα λαβόντες ἐβήσαμεν, ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ\nβαίνομεν ἀχνύμενοι θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες.\nἡμῖν δʼ αὖ κατόπισθε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο\nἴκμενον οὖρον ἵει πλησίστιον, ἐσθλὸν ἑταῖρον,\nΚίρκη εὐπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα.\nἡμεῖς δʼ ὅπλα ἕκαστα πονησάμενοι κατὰ νῆα\nἥμεθα· τὴν δʼ ἄνεμός τε κυβερνήτης τʼ ἴθυνε.\nτῆς δὲ πανημερίης τέταθʼ ἱστία ποντοπορούσης·\nδύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί.\nἡ δʼ ἐς πείραθʼ ἵκανε βαθυρρόου Ὠκεανοῖο.\nἔνθα δὲ Κιμμερίων ἀνδρῶν δῆμός τε πόλις τε,\nἠέρι καὶ νεφέλῃ κεκαλυμμένοι· οὐδέ ποτʼ αὐτοὺς\nἠέλιος φαέθων καταδέρκεται ἀκτίνεσσιν,\nοὔθʼ ὁπότʼ ἂν στείχῃσι πρὸς οὐρανὸν ἀστερόεντα,\nοὔθʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἂψ ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἀπʼ οὐρανόθεν προτράπηται,\nἀλλʼ ἐπὶ νὺξ ὀλοὴ τέταται δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι.\nνῆα μὲν ἔνθʼ ἐλθόντες ἐκέλσαμεν, ἐκ δὲ τὰ μῆλα\nεἱλόμεθʼ· αὐτοὶ δʼ αὖτε παρὰ ῥόον Ὠκεανοῖο\nᾔομεν, ὄφρʼ ἐς χῶρον ἀφικόμεθʼ, ὃν φράσε Κίρκη.\nἔνθʼ ἱερήια μὲν Περιμήδης Εὐρύλοχός τε\nἔσχον· ἐγὼ δʼ ἄορ ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ\nβόθρον ὄρυξʼ ὅσσον τε πυγούσιον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,\nἀμφʼ αὐτῷ δὲ χοὴν χεόμην πᾶσιν νεκύεσσι,\nπρῶτα μελικρήτῳ, μετέπειτα δὲ ἡδέι οἴνῳ,\nτὸ τρίτον αὖθʼ ὕδατι· ἐπὶ δʼ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ πάλυνον.\nπολλὰ δὲ γουνούμην νεκύων ἀμενηνὰ κάρηνα,\nἐλθὼν εἰς Ἰθάκην στεῖραν βοῦν, ἥ τις ἀρίστη,\nῥέξειν ἐν μεγάροισι πυρήν τʼ ἐμπλησέμεν ἐσθλῶν,\nΤειρεσίῃ δʼ ἀπάνευθεν ὄιν ἱερευσέμεν οἴῳ\nπαμμέλανʼ, ὃς μήλοισι μεταπρέπει ἡμετέροισι.\nτοὺς δʼ ἐπεὶ εὐχωλῇσι λιτῇσί τε, ἔθνεα νεκρῶν,\nἐλλισάμην, τὰ δὲ μῆλα λαβὼν ἀπεδειροτόμησα\nἐς βόθρον, ῥέε δʼ αἷμα κελαινεφές· αἱ δʼ ἀγέροντο\nψυχαὶ ὑπὲξ Ἐρέβευς νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων.\nνύμφαι τʼ ἠίθεοί τε πολύτλητοί τε γέροντες\nπαρθενικαί τʼ ἀταλαὶ νεοπενθέα θυμὸν ἔχουσαι,\nπολλοὶ δʼ οὐτάμενοι χαλκήρεσιν ἐγχείῃσιν,\nἄνδρες ἀρηίφατοι βεβροτωμένα τεύχεʼ ἔχοντες·\nοἳ πολλοὶ περὶ βόθρον ἐφοίτων ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος\nθεσπεσίῃ ἰαχῇ· ἐμὲ δὲ χλωρὸν δέος ᾕρει.\nδὴ τότʼ ἔπειθʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσα\nμῆλα, τὰ δὴ κατέκειτʼ ἐσφαγμένα νηλέι χαλκῷ,\nδείραντας κατακῆαι, ἐπεύξασθαι δὲ θεοῖσιν,\nἰφθίμῳ τʼ Ἀΐδῃ καὶ ἐπαινῇ Περσεφονείῃ·\nαὐτὸς δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ\nἥμην, οὐδʼ εἴων νεκύων ἀμενηνὰ κάρηνα\nαἵματος ἆσσον ἴμεν, πρὶν Τειρεσίαο πυθέσθαι.\nπρώτη δὲ ψυχὴ Ἐλπήνορος ἦλθεν ἑταίρου·\nοὐ γάρ πω ἐτέθαπτο ὑπὸ χθονὸς εὐρυοδείης·\nσῶμα γὰρ ἐν Κίρκης μεγάρῳ κατελείπομεν ἡμεῖς\nἄκλαυτον καὶ ἄθαπτον, ἐπεὶ πόνος ἄλλος ἔπειγε.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼ δάκρυσα ἰδὼν ἐλέησά τε θυμῷ,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·\nἘλπῆνορ, πῶς ἦλθες ὑπὸ ζόφον ἠερόεντα;\nἔφθης πεζὸς ἰὼν ἢ ἐγὼ σὺν νηὶ μελαίνῃ.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ οἰμώξας ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nἆσέ με δαίμονος αἶσα κακὴ καὶ ἀθέσφατος οἶνος.\nΚίρκης δʼ ἐν μεγάρῳ καταλέγμενος οὐκ ἐνόησα\nἄψορρον καταβῆναι ἰὼν ἐς κλίμακα μακρήν,\nἀλλὰ καταντικρὺ τέγεος πέσον· ἐκ δέ μοι αὐχὴν\nἀστραγάλων ἐάγη, ψυχὴ δʼ Ἄϊδόσδε κατῆλθε.\nνῦν δέ σε τῶν ὄπιθεν γουνάζομαι, οὐ παρεόντων,\nπρός τʼ ἀλόχου καὶ πατρός, ὅ σʼ ἔτρεφε τυτθὸν ἐόντα,\nΤηλεμάχου θʼ, ὃν μοῦνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔλειπες·\nοἶδα γὰρ ὡς ἐνθένδε κιὼν δόμου ἐξ Ἀίδαο\nνῆσον ἐς Αἰαίην σχήσεις ἐυεργέα νῆα·\nἔνθα σʼ ἔπειτα, ἄναξ, κέλομαι μνήσασθαι ἐμεῖο.\nμή μʼ ἄκλαυτον ἄθαπτον ἰὼν ὄπιθεν καταλείπειν\nνοσφισθείς, μή τοί τι θεῶν μήνιμα γένωμαι,\nἀλλά με κακκῆαι σὺν τεύχεσιν, ἅσσα μοι ἔστιν,\nσῆμά τέ μοι χεῦαι πολιῆς ἐπὶ θινὶ θαλάσσης,\nἀνδρὸς δυστήνοιο καὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι.\nταῦτά τέ μοι τελέσαι πῆξαί τʼ ἐπὶ τύμβῳ ἐρετμόν,\nτῷ καὶ ζωὸς ἔρεσσον ἐὼν μετʼ ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισιν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nταῦτά τοι, ὦ δύστηνε, τελευτήσω τε καὶ ἔρξω.\nνῶι μὲν ὣς ἐπέεσσιν ἀμειβομένω στυγεροῖσιν\nἥμεθʼ, ἐγὼ μὲν ἄνευθεν ἐφʼ αἵματι φάσγανον ἴσχων,\nεἴδωλον δʼ ἑτέρωθεν ἑταίρου πόλλʼ ἀγόρευεν·\nἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ ψυχὴ μητρὸς κατατεθνηυίης,\nΑὐτολύκου θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀντίκλεια,\nτὴν ζωὴν κατέλειπον ἰὼν εἰς Ἴλιον ἱρήν.\nτὴν μὲν ἐγὼ δάκρυσα ἰδὼν ἐλέησά τε θυμῷ·\nἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς εἴων προτέρην, πυκινόν περ ἀχεύων,\nαἵματος ἆσσον ἴμεν, πρὶν Τειρεσίαο πυθέσθαι.\nἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ ψυχὴ Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο\nχρύσεον σκῆπτρον ἔχων, ἐμὲ δʼ ἔγνω καὶ προσέειπεν·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nτίπτʼ αὖτʼ, ὦ δύστηνε, λιπὼν φάος ἠελίοιο\nἤλυθες, ὄφρα ἴδῃ νέκυας καὶ ἀτερπέα χῶρον;\nἀλλʼ ἀποχάζεο βόθρου, ἄπισχε δὲ φάσγανον ὀξύ,\nαἵματος ὄφρα πίω καί τοι νημερτέα εἴπω.\nὣς φάτʼ, ἐγὼ δʼ ἀναχασσάμενος ξίφος ἀργυρόηλον\nκουλεῷ ἐγκατέπηξʼ. ὁ δʼ ἐπεὶ πίεν αἷμα κελαινόν,\nκαὶ τότε δή μʼ ἐπέεσσι προσηύδα μάντις ἀμύμων·\nνόστον δίζηαι μελιηδέα, φαίδιμʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ·\nτὸν δέ τοι ἀργαλέον θήσει θεός· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω\nλήσειν ἐννοσίγαιον, ὅ τοι κότον ἔνθετο θυμῷ\nχωόμενος ὅτι οἱ υἱὸν φίλον ἐξαλάωσας.\nἀλλʼ ἔτι μέν κε καὶ ὣς κακά περ πάσχοντες ἵκοισθε,\nαἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃς σὸν θυμὸν ἐρυκακέειν καὶ ἑταίρων,\nὁππότε κε πρῶτον πελάσῃς ἐυεργέα νῆα\nΘρινακίῃ νήσῳ, προφυγὼν ἰοειδέα πόντον,\nβοσκομένας δʼ εὕρητε βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα\nἨελίου, ὃς πάντʼ ἐφορᾷ καὶ πάντʼ ἐπακούει.\nτὰς εἰ μέν κʼ ἀσινέας ἐάᾳς νόστου τε μέδηαι,\nκαί κεν ἔτʼ εἰς Ἰθάκην κακά περ πάσχοντες ἵκοισθε·\nεἰ δέ κε σίνηαι, τότε τοι τεκμαίρομʼ ὄλεθρον,\nνηί τε καὶ ἑτάροις. αὐτὸς δʼ εἴ πέρ κεν ἀλύξῃς,\nὀψὲ κακῶς νεῖαι, ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους,\nνηὸς ἐπʼ ἀλλοτρίης· δήεις δʼ ἐν πήματα οἴκῳ,\nἄνδρας ὑπερφιάλους, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσι\nμνώμενοι ἀντιθέην ἄλοχον καὶ ἕδνα διδόντες.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι κείνων γε βίας ἀποτίσεαι ἐλθών·\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν μνηστῆρας ἐνὶ μεγάροισι τεοῖσι\nκτείνῃς ἠὲ δόλῳ ἢ ἀμφαδὸν ὀξέι χαλκῷ,\nἔρχεσθαι δὴ ἔπειτα λαβὼν ἐυῆρες ἐρετμόν,\nεἰς ὅ κε τοὺς ἀφίκηαι οἳ οὐκ ἴσασι θάλασσαν\nἀνέρες, οὐδέ θʼ ἅλεσσι μεμιγμένον εἶδαρ ἔδουσιν·\nοὐδʼ ἄρα τοί γʼ ἴσασι νέας φοινικοπαρῄους\nοὐδʼ ἐυήρεʼ ἐρετμά, τά τε πτερὰ νηυσὶ πέλονται.\nσῆμα δέ τοι ἐρέω μάλʼ ἀριφραδές, οὐδέ σε λήσει·\nὁππότε κεν δή τοι συμβλήμενος ἄλλος ὁδίτης\nφήῃ ἀθηρηλοιγὸν ἔχειν ἀνὰ φαιδίμῳ ὤμῳ,\nκαὶ τότε δὴ γαίῃ πήξας ἐυῆρες ἐρετμόν,\nῥέξας ἱερὰ καλὰ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι,\nἀρνειὸν ταῦρόν τε συῶν τʼ ἐπιβήτορα κάπρον,\nοἴκαδʼ ἀποστείχειν ἔρδειν θʼ ἱερᾶς ἑκατόμβας\nἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι,\nπᾶσι μάλʼ ἑξείης. θάνατος δέ τοι ἐξ ἁλὸς αὐτῷ\nἀβληχρὸς μάλα τοῖος ἐλεύσεται, ὅς κέ σε πέφνῃ\nγήραι ὕπο λιπαρῷ ἀρημένον· ἀμφὶ δὲ λαοὶ\nὄλβιοι ἔσσονται. τὰ δέ τοι νημερτέα εἴρω.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nΤειρεσίη, τὰ μὲν ἄρ που ἐπέκλωσαν θεοὶ αὐτοί.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον·\nμητρὸς τήνδʼ ὁρόω ψυχὴν κατατεθνηυίης·\nἡ δʼ ἀκέουσʼ ἧσται σχεδὸν αἵματος, οὐδʼ ἑὸν υἱὸν\nἔτλη ἐσάντα ἰδεῖν οὐδὲ προτιμυθήσασθαι.\nεἰπέ, ἄναξ, πῶς κέν με ἀναγνοίη τὸν ἐόντα;\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·\nῥηΐδιόν τοι ἔπος ἐρέω καὶ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θήσω.\nὅν τινα μέν κεν ἐᾷς νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων\nαἵματος ἆσσον ἴμεν, ὁ δέ τοι νημερτὲς ἐνίψει·\nᾧ δέ κʼ ἐπιφθονέῃς, ὁ δέ τοι πάλιν εἶσιν ὀπίσσω.\nὣς φαμένη ψυχὴ μὲν ἔβη δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω\nΤειρεσίαο ἄνακτος, ἐπεὶ κατὰ θέσφατʼ ἔλεξεν·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν αὐτοῦ μένον ἔμπεδον, ὄφρʼ ἐπὶ μήτηρ\nἤλυθε καὶ πίεν αἷμα κελαινεφές· αὐτίκα δʼ ἔγνω,\nκαί μʼ ὀλοφυρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nτέκνον ἐμόν, πῶς ἦλθες ὑπὸ ζόφον ἠερόεντα\nζωὸς ἐών; χαλεπὸν δὲ τάδε ζωοῖσιν ὁρᾶσθαι.\nμέσσῳ γὰρ μεγάλοι ποταμοὶ καὶ δεινὰ ῥέεθρα,\nὨκεανὸς μὲν πρῶτα, τὸν οὔ πως ἔστι περῆσαι\nπεζὸν ἐόντʼ, ἢν μή τις ἔχῃ ἐυεργέα νῆα.\nἦ νῦν δὴ Τροίηθεν ἀλώμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνεις\nνηί τε καὶ ἑτάροισι πολὺν χρόνον; οὐδέ πω ἦλθες\nεἰς Ἰθάκην, οὐδʼ εἶδες ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναῖκα;\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nμῆτερ ἐμή, χρειώ με κατήγαγεν εἰς Ἀίδαο\nψυχῇ χρησόμενον Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο·\nοὐ γάρ πω σχεδὸν ἦλθον Ἀχαιΐδος, οὐδέ πω ἁμῆς\nγῆς ἐπέβην, ἀλλʼ αἰὲν ἔχων ἀλάλημαι ὀιζύν,\nἐξ οὗ τὰ πρώτισθʼ ἑπόμην Ἀγαμέμνονι δίῳ\nἼλιον εἰς ἐύπωλον, ἵνα Τρώεσσι μαχοίμην.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον·\nτίς νύ σε κὴρ ἐδάμασσε τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο;\nἦ δολιχὴ νοῦσος, ἦ Ἄρτεμις ἰοχέαιρα\nοἷς ἀγανοῖς βελέεσσιν ἐποιχομένη κατέπεφνεν;\nεἰπὲ δέ μοι πατρός τε καὶ υἱέος, ὃν κατέλειπον,\nἢ ἔτι πὰρ κείνοισιν ἐμὸν γέρας, ἦέ τις ἤδη\nἀνδρῶν ἄλλος ἔχει, ἐμὲ δʼ οὐκέτι φασὶ νέεσθαι.\nεἰπὲ δέ μοι μνηστῆς ἀλόχου βουλήν τε νόον τε,\nἠὲ μένει παρὰ παιδὶ καὶ ἔμπεδα πάντα φυλάσσει\nἦ ἤδη μιν ἔγημεν Ἀχαιῶν ὅς τις ἄριστος.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο πότνια μήτηρ·\nκαὶ λίην κείνη γε μένει τετληότι θυμῷ\nσοῖσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν· ὀιζυραὶ δέ οἱ αἰεὶ\nφθίνουσιν νύκτες τε καὶ ἤματα δάκρυ χεούσῃ.\nσὸν δʼ οὔ πώ τις ἔχει καλὸν γέρας, ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος\nΤηλέμαχος τεμένεα νέμεται καὶ δαῖτας ἐίσας\nδαίνυται, ἃς ἐπέοικε δικασπόλον ἄνδρʼ ἀλεγύνειν·\nπάντες γὰρ καλέουσι. πατὴρ δὲ σὸς αὐτόθι μίμνει\nἀγρῷ, οὐδὲ πόλινδε κατέρχεται. οὐδέ οἱ εὐναὶ\nδέμνια καὶ χλαῖναι καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα,\nἀλλʼ ὅ γε χεῖμα μὲν εὕδει ὅθι δμῶες ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nἐν κόνι ἄγχι πυρός, κακὰ δὲ χροῒ εἵματα εἷται·\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ἔλθῃσι θέρος τεθαλυῖά τʼ ὀπώρη,\nπάντῃ οἱ κατὰ γουνὸν ἀλωῆς οἰνοπέδοιο\nφύλλων κεκλιμένων χθαμαλαὶ βεβλήαται εὐναί.\nἔνθʼ ὅ γε κεῖτʼ ἀχέων, μέγα δὲ φρεσὶ πένθος ἀέξει\nσὸν νόστον ποθέων, χαλεπὸν δʼ ἐπὶ γῆρας ἱκάνει.\nοὕτω γὰρ καὶ ἐγὼν ὀλόμην καὶ πότμον ἐπέσπον·\nοὔτʼ ἐμέ γʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐύσκοπος ἰοχέαιρα\nοἷς ἀγανοῖς βελέεσσιν ἐποιχομένη κατέπεφνεν,\nοὔτε τις οὖν μοι νοῦσος ἐπήλυθεν, ἥ τε μάλιστα\nτηκεδόνι στυγερῇ μελέων ἐξείλετο θυμόν·\nἀλλά με σός τε πόθος σά τε μήδεα, φαίδιμʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nσή τʼ ἀγανοφροσύνη μελιηδέα θυμὸν ἀπηύρα.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γʼ ἔθελον φρεσὶ μερμηρίξας\nμητρὸς ἐμῆς ψυχὴν ἑλέειν κατατεθνηυίης.\nτρὶς μὲν ἐφωρμήθην, ἑλέειν τέ με θυμὸς ἀνώγει,\nτρὶς δέ μοι ἐκ χειρῶν σκιῇ εἴκελον ἢ καὶ ὀνείρῳ\nἔπτατʼ. ἐμοὶ δʼ ἄχος ὀξὺ γενέσκετο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·\nμῆτερ ἐμή, τί νύ μʼ οὐ μίμνεις ἑλέειν μεμαῶτα,\nὄφρα καὶ εἰν Ἀίδαο φίλας περὶ χεῖρε βαλόντε\nἀμφοτέρω κρυεροῖο τεταρπώμεσθα γόοιο;\nἦ τί μοι εἴδωλον τόδʼ ἀγαυὴ Περσεφόνεια\nὤτρυνʼ, ὄφρʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὀδυρόμενος στεναχίζω;\nὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο πότνια μήτηρ·\nὤ μοι, τέκνον ἐμόν, περὶ πάντων κάμμορε φωτῶν,\nοὔ τί σε Περσεφόνεια Διὸς θυγάτηρ ἀπαφίσκει,\nἀλλʼ αὕτη δίκη ἐστὶ βροτῶν, ὅτε τίς κε θάνῃσιν·\nοὐ γὰρ ἔτι σάρκας τε καὶ ὀστέα ἶνες ἔχουσιν,\nἀλλὰ τὰ μέν τε πυρὸς κρατερὸν μένος αἰθομένοιο\nδαμνᾷ, ἐπεί κε πρῶτα λίπῃ λεύκʼ ὀστέα θυμός,\nψυχὴ δʼ ἠύτʼ ὄνειρος ἀποπταμένη πεπότηται.\nἀλλὰ φόωσδε τάχιστα λιλαίεο· ταῦτα δὲ πάντα\nἴσθʼ, ἵνα καὶ μετόπισθε τεῇ εἴπῃσθα γυναικί.\nνῶι μὲν ὣς ἐπέεσσιν ἀμειβόμεθʼ, αἱ δὲ γυναῖκες\nἤλυθον, ὤτρυνεν γὰρ ἀγαυὴ Περσεφόνεια,\nὅσσαι ἀριστήων ἄλοχοι ἔσαν ἠδὲ θύγατρες.\nαἱ δʼ ἀμφʼ αἷμα κελαινὸν ἀολλέες ἠγερέθοντο,\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ βούλευον ὅπως ἐρέοιμι ἑκάστην.\nἥδε δέ μοι κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή·\nσπασσάμενος τανύηκες ἄορ παχέος παρὰ μηροῦ\nοὐκ εἴων πίνειν ἅμα πάσας αἷμα κελαινόν.\nαἱ δὲ προμνηστῖναι ἐπήισαν, ἠδὲ ἑκάστη\nὃν γόνον ἐξαγόρευεν· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐρέεινον ἁπάσας.\nἔνθʼ ἦ τοι πρώτην Τυρὼ ἴδον εὐπατέρειαν,\nἣ φάτο Σαλμωνῆος ἀμύμονος ἔκγονος εἶναι,\nφῆ δὲ Κρηθῆος γυνὴ ἔμμεναι Αἰολίδαο·\nἣ ποταμοῦ ἠράσσατʼ Ἐνιπῆος θείοιο,\nὃς πολὺ κάλλιστος ποταμῶν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἵησι,\nκαί ῥʼ ἐπʼ Ἐνιπῆος πωλέσκετο καλὰ ῥέεθρα.\nτῷ δʼ ἄρα εἰσάμενος γαιήοχος ἐννοσίγαιος\nἐν προχοῇς ποταμοῦ παρελέξατο δινήεντος·\nπορφύρεον δʼ ἄρα κῦμα περιστάθη, οὔρεϊ ἶσον,\nκυρτωθέν, κρύψεν δὲ θεὸν θνητήν τε γυναῖκα.\nλῦσε δὲ παρθενίην ζώνην, κατὰ δʼ ὕπνον ἔχευεν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐτέλεσσε θεὸς φιλοτήσια ἔργα,\nἔν τʼ ἄρα οἱ φῦ χειρί, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·\nχαῖρε, γύναι, φιλότητι· περιπλομένου δʼ ἐνιαυτοῦ\nτέξεις ἀγλαὰ τέκνα, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἀποφώλιοι εὐναὶ\nἀθανάτων· σὺ δὲ τοὺς κομέειν ἀτιταλλέμεναί τε.\nνῦν δʼ ἔρχευ πρὸς δῶμα, καὶ ἴσχεο μηδʼ ὀνομήνῃς·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγώ τοί εἰμι Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων.\nὣς εἰπὼν ὑπὸ πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα.\nἡ δʼ ὑποκυσαμένη Πελίην τέκε καὶ Νηλῆα,\nτὼ κρατερὼ θεράποντε Διὸς μεγάλοιο γενέσθην\nἀμφοτέρω· Πελίης μὲν ἐν εὐρυχόρῳ Ἰαωλκῷ\nναῖε πολύρρηνος, ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐν Πύλῳ ἠμαθόεντι.\nτοὺς δʼ ἑτέρους Κρηθῆι τέκεν βασίλεια γυναικῶν,\nΑἴσονά τʼ ἠδὲ Φέρητʼ Ἀμυθάονά θʼ ἱππιοχάρμην.\nτὴν δὲ μετʼ Ἀντιόπην ἴδον, Ἀσωποῖο θύγατρα,\nἣ δὴ καὶ Διὸς εὔχετʼ ἐν ἀγκοίνῃσιν ἰαῦσαι,\nκαί ῥʼ ἔτεκεν δύο παῖδʼ, Ἀμφίονά τε Ζῆθόν τε,\nοἳ πρῶτοι Θήβης ἕδος ἔκτισαν ἑπταπύλοιο,\nπύργωσάν τʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐ μὲν ἀπύργωτόν γʼ ἐδύναντο\nναιέμεν εὐρύχορον Θήβην, κρατερώ περ ἐόντε.\nτὴν δὲ μετʼ Ἀλκμήνην ἴδον, Ἀμφιτρύωνος ἄκοιτιν,\nἥ ῥʼ Ἡρακλῆα θρασυμέμνονα θυμολέοντα\nγείνατʼ ἐν ἀγκοίνῃσι Διὸς μεγάλοιο μιγεῖσα·\nκαὶ Μεγάρην, Κρείοντος ὑπερθύμοιο θύγατρα,\nτὴν ἔχεν Ἀμφιτρύωνος υἱὸς μένος αἰὲν ἀτειρής.\nμητέρα τʼ Οἰδιπόδαο ἴδον, καλὴν Ἐπικάστην,\nἣ μέγα ἔργον ἔρεξεν ἀιδρείῃσι νόοιο\nγημαμένη ᾧ υἷι· ὁ δʼ ὃν πατέρʼ ἐξεναρίξας\nγῆμεν· ἄφαρ δʼ ἀνάπυστα θεοὶ θέσαν ἀνθρώποισιν.\nἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἐν Θήβῃ πολυηράτῳ ἄλγεα πάσχων\nΚαδμείων ἤνασσε θεῶν ὀλοὰς διὰ βουλάς·\nἡ δʼ ἔβη εἰς Ἀίδαο πυλάρταο κρατεροῖο,\nἁψαμένη βρόχον αἰπὺν ἀφʼ ὑψηλοῖο μελάθρου,\nᾧ ἄχεϊ σχομένη· τῷ δʼ ἄλγεα κάλλιπʼ ὀπίσσω\nπολλὰ μάλʼ, ὅσσα τε μητρὸς Ἐρινύες ἐκτελέουσιν.\nκαὶ Χλῶριν εἶδον περικαλλέα, τήν ποτε Νηλεὺς\nγῆμεν ἑὸν διὰ κάλλος, ἐπεὶ πόρε μυρία ἕδνα,\nὁπλοτάτην κούρην Ἀμφίονος Ἰασίδαο,\nὅς ποτʼ ἐν Ὀρχομενῷ Μινυείῳ ἶφι ἄνασσεν·\nἡ δὲ Πύλου βασίλευε, τέκεν δέ οἱ ἀγλαὰ τέκνα,\nΝέστορά τε Χρόμιον τε Περικλύμενόν τʼ ἀγέρωχον.\nτοῖσι δʼ ἐπʼ ἰφθίμην Πηρὼ τέκε, θαῦμα βροτοῖσι,\nτὴν πάντες μνώοντο περικτίται· οὐδʼ ἄρα Νηλεὺς\nτῷ ἐδίδου ὃς μὴ ἕλικας βόας εὐρυμετώπους\nἐκ Φυλάκης ἐλάσειε βίης Ἰφικληείης\nἀργαλέας· τὰς δʼ οἶος ὑπέσχετο μάντις ἀμύμων\nἐξελάαν· χαλεπὴ δὲ θεοῦ κατὰ μοῖρα πέδησε,\nδεσμοί τʼ ἀργαλέοι καὶ βουκόλοι ἀγροιῶται.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ μῆνές τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐξετελεῦντο\nἂψ περιτελλομένου ἔτεος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,\nκαὶ τότε δή μιν ἔλυσε βίη Ἰφικληείη,\nθέσφατα πάντʼ εἰπόντα· Διὸς δʼ ἐτελείετο βουλή.\nκαὶ Λήδην εἶδον, τὴν Τυνδαρέου παράκοιτιν,\nἥ ῥʼ ὑπὸ Τυνδαρέῳ κρατερόφρονε γείνατο παῖδε,\nΚάστορά θʼ ἱππόδαμον καὶ πὺξ ἀγαθὸν Πολυδεύκεα,\nτοὺς ἄμφω ζωοὺς κατέχει φυσίζοος αἶα·\nοἳ καὶ νέρθεν γῆς τιμὴν πρὸς Ζηνὸς ἔχοντες\nἄλλοτε μὲν ζώουσʼ ἑτερήμεροι, ἄλλοτε δʼ αὖτε\nτεθνᾶσιν· τιμὴν δὲ λελόγχασιν ἶσα θεοῖσι.\nτὴν δὲ μετʼ Ἰφιμέδειαν, Ἀλωῆος παράκοιτιν\nεἴσιδον, ἣ δὴ φάσκε Ποσειδάωνι μιγῆναι,\nκαί ῥʼ ἔτεκεν δύο παῖδε, μινυνθαδίω δʼ ἐγενέσθην,\nὮτόν τʼ ἀντίθεον τηλεκλειτόν τʼ Ἐφιάλτην,\nοὓς δὴ μηκίστους θρέψε ζείδωρος ἄρουρα\nκαὶ πολὺ καλλίστους μετά γε κλυτὸν Ὠρίωνα·\nἐννέωροι γὰρ τοί γε καὶ ἐννεαπήχεες ἦσαν\nεὖρος, ἀτὰρ μῆκός γε γενέσθην ἐννεόργυιοι.\nοἵ ῥα καὶ ἀθανάτοισιν ἀπειλήτην ἐν Ὀλύμπῳ\nφυλόπιδα στήσειν πολυάικος πολέμοιο.\nὌσσαν ἐπʼ Οὐλύμπῳ μέμασαν θέμεν, αὐτὰρ ἐπʼ Ὄσσῃ\nΠήλιον εἰνοσίφυλλον, ἵνʼ οὐρανὸς ἀμβατὸς εἴη.\nκαί νύ κεν ἐξετέλεσσαν, εἰ ἥβης μέτρον ἵκοντο·\nἀλλʼ ὄλεσεν Διὸς υἱός, ὃν ἠύκομος τέκε Λητώ,\nἀμφοτέρω, πρίν σφωιν ὑπὸ κροτάφοισιν ἰούλους\nἀνθῆσαι πυκάσαι τε γένυς ἐυανθέι λάχνῃ.\nΦαίδρην τε Πρόκριν τε ἴδον καλήν τʼ Ἀριάδνην,\nκούρην Μίνωος ὀλοόφρονος, ἥν ποτε Θησεὺς\nἐκ Κρήτης ἐς γουνὸν Ἀθηνάων ἱεράων\nἦγε μέν, οὐδʼ ἀπόνητο· πάρος δέ μιν Ἄρτεμις ἔκτα\nΔίῃ ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ Διονύσου μαρτυρίῃσιν.\nΜαῖράν τε Κλυμένην τε ἴδον στυγερήν τʼ Ἐριφύλην,\nἣ χρυσὸν φίλου ἀνδρὸς ἐδέξατο τιμήεντα.\nπάσας δʼ οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ὀνομήνω,\nὅσσας ἡρώων ἀλόχους ἴδον ἠδὲ θύγατρας·\nπρὶν γάρ κεν καὶ νὺξ φθῖτʼ ἄμβροτος. ἀλλὰ καὶ ὥρη\nεὕδειν, ἢ ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν ἐλθόντʼ ἐς ἑταίρους\nἢ αὐτοῦ· πομπὴ δὲ θεοῖς ὑμῖν τε μελήσει.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ,\nκηληθμῷ δʼ ἔσχοντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀρήτη λευκώλενος ἤρχετο μύθων.\nΦαίηκες, πῶς ὔμμιν ἀνὴρ ὅδε φαίνεται εἶναι\nεἶδός τε μέγεθός τε ἰδὲ φρένας ἔνδον ἐίσας;\nξεῖνος δʼ αὖτʼ ἐμός ἐστιν, ἕκαστος δʼ ἔμμορε τιμῆς·\nτῷ μὴ ἐπειγόμενοι ἀποπέμπετε, μηδὲ τὰ δῶρα\nοὕτω χρηίζοντι κολούετε· πολλὰ γὰρ ὑμῖν\nκτήματʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι θεῶν ἰότητι κέονται.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε γέρων ἥρως Ἐχένηος,\nὃς δὴ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν προγενέστερος ἦεν·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐ μὰν ἧμιν ἀπὸ σκοποῦ οὐδʼ ἀπὸ δόξης\nμυθεῖται βασίλεια περίφρων· ἀλλὰ πίθεσθε.\nἈλκινόου δʼ ἐκ τοῦδʼ ἔχεται ἔργον τε ἔπος τε.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·\nτοῦτο μὲν οὕτω δὴ ἔσται ἔπος, αἴ κεν ἐγώ γε\nζωὸς Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισιν ἀνάσσω·\nξεῖνος δὲ τλήτω μάλα περ νόστοιο χατίζων\nἔμπης οὖν ἐπιμεῖναι ἐς αὔριον, εἰς ὅ κε πᾶσαν\nδωτίνην τελέσω· πομπὴ δʼ ἄνδρεσσι μελήσει\nπᾶσι, μάλιστα δʼ ἐμοί· τοῦ γὰρ κράτος ἔστʼ ἐνὶ δήμῳ.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἈλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,\nεἴ με καὶ εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν ἀνώγοιτʼ αὐτόθι μίμνειν,\nπομπὴν δʼ ὀτρύνοιτε καὶ ἀγλαὰ δῶρα διδοῖτε,\nκαί κε τὸ βουλοίμην, καί κεν πολὺ κέρδιον εἴη,\nπλειοτέρῃ σὺν χειρὶ φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἱκέσθαι·\nκαί κʼ αἰδοιότερος καὶ φίλτερος ἀνδράσιν εἴην\nπᾶσιν, ὅσοι μʼ Ἰθάκηνδε ἰδοίατο νοστήσαντα.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·\nὦ Ὀδυσεῦ, τὸ μὲν οὔ τί σʼ ἐίσκομεν εἰσορόωντες,\nἠπεροπῆά τʼ ἔμεν καὶ ἐπίκλοπον, οἷά τε πολλοὺς\nβόσκει γαῖα μέλαινα πολυσπερέας ἀνθρώπους,\nψεύδεά τʼ ἀρτύνοντας ὅθεν κέ τις οὐδὲ ἴδοιτο·\nσοὶ δʼ ἔπι μὲν μορφὴ ἐπέων, ἔνι δὲ φρένες ἐσθλαί.\nμῦθον δʼ ὡς ὅτʼ ἀοιδὸς ἐπισταμένως κατέλεξας,\nπάντων τʼ Ἀργείων σέο τʼ αὐτοῦ κήδεα λυγρά.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,\nεἴ τινας ἀντιθέων ἑτάρων ἴδες, οἵ τοι ἅμʼ αὐτῷ\nἼλιον εἰς ἅμʼ ἕποντο καὶ αὐτοῦ πότμον ἐπέσπον.\nνὺξ δʼ ἥδε μάλα μακρή, ἀθέσφατος· οὐδέ πω ὥρη\nεὕδειν ἐν μεγάρῳ, σὺ δέ μοι λέγε θέσκελα ἔργα.\nκαί κεν ἐς ἠῶ δῖαν ἀνασχοίμην, ὅτε μοι σὺ\nτλαίης ἐν μεγάρῳ τὰ σὰ κήδεα μυθήσασθαι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἈλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,\nὥρη μὲν πολέων μύθων, ὥρη δὲ καὶ ὕπνου·\nεἰ δʼ ἔτʼ ἀκουέμεναί γε λιλαίεαι, οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε\nτούτων σοι φθονέοιμι καὶ οἰκτρότερʼ ἄλλʼ ἀγορεύειν,\nκήδεʼ ἐμῶν ἑτάρων, οἳ δὴ μετόπισθεν ὄλοντο,\nοἳ Τρώων μὲν ὑπεξέφυγον στονόεσσαν ἀυτήν,\nἐν νόστῳ δʼ ἀπόλοντο κακῆς ἰότητι γυναικός.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ ψυχὰς μὲν ἀπεσκέδασʼ ἄλλυδις ἄλλῃ\nἁγνὴ Περσεφόνεια γυναικῶν θηλυτεράων,\nἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ ψυχὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο\nἀχνυμένη· περὶ δʼ ἄλλαι ἀγηγέραθʼ, ὅσσοι ἅμʼ αὐτῷ\nοἴκῳ ἐν Αἰγίσθοιο θάνον καὶ πότμον ἐπέσπον.\nἔγνω δʼ αἶψʼ ἔμʼ ἐκεῖνος, ἐπεὶ πίεν αἷμα κελαινόν·\nκλαῖε δʼ ὅ γε λιγέως, θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυον εἴβων,\nπιτνὰς εἰς ἐμὲ χεῖρας, ὀρέξασθαι μενεαίνων·\nἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ οἱ ἔτʼ ἦν ἲς ἔμπεδος οὐδέ τι κῖκυς,\nοἵη περ πάρος ἔσκεν ἐνὶ γναμπτοῖσι μέλεσσι.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼ δάκρυσα ἰδὼν ἐλέησά τε θυμῷ,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·\nἈτρεΐδη κύδιστε, ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγάμεμνον,\nτίς νύ σε κὴρ ἐδάμασσε τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο;\nἦε σέ γʼ ἐν νήεσσι Ποσειδάων ἐδάμασσεν\nὄρσας ἀργαλέων ἀνέμων ἀμέγαρτον ἀυτμήν;\nἦέ σʼ ἀνάρσιοι ἄνδρες ἐδηλήσαντʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου\nβοῦς περιταμνόμενον ἠδʼ οἰῶν πώεα καλά,\nἠὲ περὶ πτόλιος μαχεούμενον ἠδὲ γυναικῶν;\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nοὔτʼ ἐμέ γʼ ἐν νήεσσι Ποσειδάων ἐδάμασσεν\nὄρσας ἀργαλέων ἀνέμων ἀμέγαρτον ἀυτμήν,\nοὔτε μʼ ἀνάρσιοι ἄνδρες ἐδηλήσαντʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου,\nἀλλά μοι Αἴγισθος τεύξας θάνατόν τε μόρον τε\nἔκτα σὺν οὐλομένῃ ἀλόχῳ, οἶκόνδε καλέσσας,\nδειπνίσσας, ὥς τίς τε κατέκτανε βοῦν ἐπὶ φάτνῃ.\nὣς θάνον οἰκτίστῳ θανάτῳ· περὶ δʼ ἄλλοι ἑταῖροι\nνωλεμέως κτείνοντο σύες ὣς ἀργιόδοντες,\nοἵ ῥά τʼ ἐν ἀφνειοῦ ἀνδρὸς μέγα δυναμένοιο\nἢ γάμῳ ἢ ἐράνῳ ἢ εἰλαπίνῃ τεθαλυίῃ.\nἤδη μὲν πολέων φόνῳ ἀνδρῶν ἀντεβόλησας,\nμουνὰξ κτεινομένων καὶ ἐνὶ κρατερῇ ὑσμίνῃ·\nἀλλά κε κεῖνα μάλιστα ἰδὼν ὀλοφύραο θυμῷ,\nὡς ἀμφὶ κρητῆρα τραπέζας τε πληθούσας\nκείμεθʼ ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ, δάπεδον δʼ ἅπαν αἵματι θῦεν.\nοἰκτροτάτην δʼ ἤκουσα ὄπα Πριάμοιο θυγατρός,\nΚασσάνδρης, τὴν κτεῖνε Κλυταιμνήστρη δολόμητις\nἀμφʼ ἐμοί, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ ποτὶ γαίῃ χεῖρας ἀείρων\nβάλλον ἀποθνήσκων περὶ φασγάνῳ· ἡ δὲ κυνῶπις\nνοσφίσατʼ, οὐδέ μοι ἔτλη ἰόντι περ εἰς Ἀίδαο\nχερσὶ κατʼ ὀφθαλμοὺς ἑλέειν σύν τε στόμʼ ἐρεῖσαι.\nὣς οὐκ αἰνότερον καὶ κύντερον ἄλλο γυναικός,\nἥ τις δὴ τοιαῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶν ἔργα βάληται·\nοἷον δὴ καὶ κείνη ἐμήσατο ἔργον ἀεικές,\nκουριδίῳ τεύξασα πόσει φόνον. ἦ τοι ἔφην γε\nἀσπάσιος παίδεσσιν ἰδὲ δμώεσσιν ἐμοῖσιν\nοἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· ἡ δʼ ἔξοχα λυγρὰ ἰδυῖα\nοἷ τε κατʼ αἶσχος ἔχευε καὶ ἐσσομένῃσιν ὀπίσσω\nθηλυτέρῃσι γυναιξί, καὶ ἥ κʼ ἐυεργὸς ἔῃσιν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ γόνον Ἀτρέος εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς\nἐκπάγλως ἤχθηρε γυναικείας διὰ βουλὰς\nἐξ ἀρχῆς· Ἑλένης μὲν ἀπωλόμεθʼ εἵνεκα πολλοί,\nσοὶ δὲ Κλυταιμνήστρη δόλον ἤρτυε τηλόθʼ ἐόντι.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·\nτῷ νῦν μή ποτε καὶ σὺ γυναικί περ ἤπιος εἶναι·\nμή οἱ μῦθον ἅπαντα πιφαυσκέμεν, ὅν κʼ ἐὺ εἰδῇς,\nἀλλὰ τὸ μὲν φάσθαι, τὸ δὲ καὶ κεκρυμμένον εἶναι.\nἀλλʼ οὐ σοί γʼ, Ὀδυσεῦ, φόνος ἔσσεται ἔκ γε γυναικός·\nλίην γὰρ πινυτή τε καὶ εὖ φρεσὶ μήδεα οἶδε\nκούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρων Πηνελόπεια.\nἦ μέν μιν νύμφην γε νέην κατελείπομεν ἡμεῖς\nἐρχόμενοι πόλεμόνδε· πάϊς δέ οἱ ἦν ἐπὶ μαζῷ\nνήπιος, ὅς που νῦν γε μετʼ ἀνδρῶν ἵζει ἀριθμῷ,\nὄλβιος· ἦ γὰρ τόν γε πατὴρ φίλος ὄψεται ἐλθών,\nκαὶ κεῖνος πατέρα προσπτύξεται, ἣ θέμις ἐστίν.\nἡ δʼ ἐμὴ οὐδέ περ υἷος ἐνιπλησθῆναι ἄκοιτις\nὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἔασε· πάρος δέ με πέφνε καὶ αὐτόν.\nἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·\nκρύβδην, μηδʼ ἀναφανδά, φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν\nνῆα κατισχέμεναι· ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι πιστὰ γυναιξίν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,\nεἴ που ἔτι ζώοντος ἀκούετε παιδὸς ἐμοῖο,\nἤ που ἐν Ὀρχομενῷ ἢ ἐν Πύλῳ ἠμαθόεντι,\nἤ που πὰρ Μενελάῳ ἐνὶ Σπάρτῃ εὐρείῃ·\nοὐ γάρ πω τέθνηκεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ δῖος Ὀρέστης.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nἈτρεΐδη, τί με ταῦτα διείρεαι; οὐδέ τι οἶδα,\nζώει ὅ γʼ ἦ τέθνηκε· κακὸν δʼ ἀνεμώλια βάζειν.\nνῶι μὲν ὣς ἐπέεσσιν ἀμειβομένω στυγεροῖσιν\nἕσταμεν ἀχνύμενοι θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες·\nἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ ψυχὴ Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος\nκαὶ Πατροκλῆος καὶ ἀμύμονος Ἀντιλόχοιο\nΑἴαντός θʼ, ὃς ἄριστος ἔην εἶδός τε δέμας τε\nτῶν ἄλλων Δαναῶν μετʼ ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα.\nἔγνω δὲ ψυχή με ποδώκεος Αἰακίδαο\nκαί ῥʼ ὀλοφυρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nσχέτλιε, τίπτʼ ἔτι μεῖζον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μήσεαι ἔργον;\nπῶς ἔτλης Ἄϊδόσδε κατελθέμεν, ἔνθα τε νεκροὶ\nἀφραδέες ναίουσι, βροτῶν εἴδωλα καμόντων;\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nὦ Ἀχιλεῦ Πηλῆος υἱέ, μέγα φέρτατʼ Ἀχαιῶν,\nἦλθον Τειρεσίαο κατὰ χρέος, εἴ τινα βουλὴν\nεἴποι, ὅπως Ἰθάκην ἐς παιπαλόεσσαν ἱκοίμην·\nοὐ γάρ πω σχεδὸν ἦλθον Ἀχαιΐδος, οὐδέ πω ἁμῆς\nγῆς ἐπέβην, ἀλλʼ αἰὲν ἔχω κακά. σεῖο δʼ, Ἀχιλλεῦ,\nοὔ τις ἀνὴρ προπάροιθε μακάρτατος οὔτʼ ἄρʼ ὀπίσσω.\nπρὶν μὲν γάρ σε ζωὸν ἐτίομεν ἶσα θεοῖσιν\nἈργεῖοι, νῦν αὖτε μέγα κρατέεις νεκύεσσιν\nἐνθάδʼ ἐών· τῷ μή τι θανὼν ἀκαχίζευ, Ἀχιλλεῦ.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·\nμὴ δή μοι θάνατόν γε παραύδα, φαίδιμʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ.\nβουλοίμην κʼ ἐπάρουρος ἐὼν θητευέμεν ἄλλῳ,\nἀνδρὶ παρʼ ἀκλήρῳ, ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη,\nἢ πᾶσιν νεκύεσσι καταφθιμένοισιν ἀνάσσειν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τοῦ παιδὸς ἀγαυοῦ μῦθον ἐνίσπες,\nἢ ἕπετʼ ἐς πόλεμον πρόμος ἔμμεναι, ἦε καὶ οὐκί.\nεἰπὲ δέ μοι Πηλῆος ἀμύμονος, εἴ τι πέπυσσαι,\nἢ ἔτʼ ἔχει τιμὴν πολέσιν μετὰ Μυρμιδόνεσσιν,\nἦ μιν ἀτιμάζουσιν ἀνʼ Ἑλλάδα τε Φθίην τε,\nοὕνεκά μιν κατὰ γῆρας ἔχει χεῖράς τε πόδας τε.\nοὐ γὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπαρωγὸς ὑπʼ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο,\nτοῖος ἐών, οἷός ποτʼ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ εὐρείῃ\nπέφνον λαὸν ἄριστον, ἀμύνων Ἀργείοισιν·\nεἰ τοιόσδʼ ἔλθοιμι μίνυνθά περ ἐς πατέρος δῶ·\nτῷ κέ τεῳ στύξαιμι μένος καὶ χεῖρας ἀάπτους,\nοἳ κεῖνον βιόωνται ἐέργουσίν τʼ ἀπὸ τιμῆς.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nἦ τοι μὲν Πηλῆος ἀμύμονος οὔ τι πέπυσμαι,\nαὐτάρ τοι παιδός γε Νεοπτολέμοιο φίλοιο\nπᾶσαν ἀληθείην μυθήσομαι, ὥς με κελεύεις·\nαὐτὸς γάρ μιν ἐγὼ κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς ἐίσης\nἤγαγον ἐκ Σκύρου μετʼ ἐυκνήμιδας Ἀχαιούς.\nἦ τοι ὅτʼ ἀμφὶ πόλιν Τροίην φραζοίμεθα βουλάς,\nαἰεὶ πρῶτος ἔβαζε καὶ οὐχ ἡμάρτανε μύθων·\nΝέστωρ ἀντίθεος καὶ ἐγὼ νικάσκομεν οἴω.\nαὐτὰρ ὅτʼ ἐν πεδίῳ Τρώων μαρναίμεθα χαλκῷ,\nοὔ ποτʼ ἐνὶ πληθυῖ μένεν ἀνδρῶν οὐδʼ ἐν ὁμίλῳ,\nἀλλὰ πολὺ προθέεσκε τὸ ὃν μένος οὐδενὶ εἴκων,\nπολλοὺς δʼ ἄνδρας ἔπεφνεν ἐν αἰνῇ δηιοτῆτι.\nπάντας δʼ οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ὀνομήνω,\nὅσσον λαὸν ἔπεφνεν ἀμύνων Ἀργείοισιν,\nἀλλʼ οἷον τὸν Τηλεφίδην κατενήρατο χαλκῷ,\nἥρωʼ Εὐρύπυλον, πολλοὶ δʼ ἀμφʼ αὐτὸν ἑταῖροι\nΚήτειοι κτείνοντο γυναίων εἵνεκα δώρων.\nκεῖνον δὴ κάλλιστον ἴδον μετὰ Μέμνονα δῖον.\nαὐτὰρ ὅτʼ εἰς ἵππον κατεβαίνομεν, ὃν κάμʼ Ἐπειός,\nἈργείων οἱ ἄριστοι, ἐμοὶ δʼ ἐπὶ πάντα τέταλτο,\nἠμὲν ἀνακλῖναι πυκινὸν λόχον ἠδʼ ἐπιθεῖναι,\nἔνθʼ ἄλλοι Δαναῶν ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες\nδάκρυά τʼ ὠμόργνυντο τρέμον θʼ ὑπὸ γυῖα ἑκάστου·\nκεῖνον δʼ οὔ ποτε πάμπαν ἐγὼν ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν\nοὔτʼ ὠχρήσαντα χρόα κάλλιμον οὔτε παρειῶν\nδάκρυ ὀμορξάμενον· ὁ δέ γε μάλα πόλλʼ ἱκέτευεν\nἱππόθεν ἐξέμεναι, ξίφεος δʼ ἐπεμαίετο κώπην\nκαὶ δόρυ χαλκοβαρές, κακὰ δὲ Τρώεσσι μενοίνα.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ Πριάμοιο πόλιν διεπέρσαμεν αἰπήν,\nμοῖραν καὶ γέρας ἐσθλὸν ἔχων ἐπὶ νηὸς ἔβαινεν\nἀσκηθής, οὔτʼ ἂρ βεβλημένος ὀξέι χαλκῷ\nοὔτʼ αὐτοσχεδίην οὐτασμένος, οἷά τε πολλὰ\nγίγνεται ἐν πολέμῳ· ἐπιμὶξ δέ τε μαίνεται Ἄρης.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ψυχὴ δὲ ποδώκεος Αἰακίδαο\nφοίτα μακρὰ βιβᾶσα κατʼ ἀσφοδελὸν λειμῶνα,\nγηθοσύνη ὅ οἱ υἱὸν ἔφην ἀριδείκετον εἶναι.\nαἱ δʼ ἄλλαι ψυχαὶ νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων\nἕστασαν ἀχνύμεναι, εἴροντο δὲ κήδεʼ ἑκάστη.\nοἴη δʼ Αἴαντος ψυχὴ Τελαμωνιάδαο\nνόσφιν ἀφεστήκει, κεχολωμένη εἵνεκα νίκης,\nτήν μιν ἐγὼ νίκησα δικαζόμενος παρὰ νηυσὶ\nτεύχεσιν ἀμφʼ Ἀχιλῆος· ἔθηκε δὲ πότνια μήτηρ.\nπαῖδες δὲ Τρώων δίκασαν καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.\nὡς δὴ μὴ ὄφελον νικᾶν τοιῷδʼ ἐπʼ ἀέθλῳ·\nτοίην γὰρ κεφαλὴν ἕνεκʼ αὐτῶν γαῖα κατέσχεν,\nΑἴανθʼ, ὃς πέρι μὲν εἶδος, πέρι δʼ ἔργα τέτυκτο\nτῶν ἄλλων Δαναῶν μετʼ ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼν ἐπέεσσι προσηύδων μειλιχίοισιν·\nΑἶαν, παῖ Τελαμῶνος ἀμύμονος, οὐκ ἄρʼ ἔμελλες\nοὐδὲ θανὼν λήσεσθαι ἐμοὶ χόλου εἵνεκα τευχέων\nοὐλομένων; τὰ δὲ πῆμα θεοὶ θέσαν Ἀργείοισι,\nτοῖος γάρ σφιν πύργος ἀπώλεο· σεῖο δʼ Ἀχαιοὶ\nἶσον Ἀχιλλῆος κεφαλῇ Πηληϊάδαο\nἀχνύμεθα φθιμένοιο διαμπερές· οὐδέ τις ἄλλος\nαἴτιος, ἀλλὰ Ζεὺς Δαναῶν στρατὸν αἰχμητάων\nἐκπάγλως ἤχθηρε, τεῒν δʼ ἐπὶ μοῖραν ἔθηκεν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε δεῦρο, ἄναξ, ἵνʼ ἔπος καὶ μῦθον ἀκούσῃς\nἡμέτερον· δάμασον δὲ μένος καὶ ἀγήνορα θυμόν.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ οὐδὲν ἀμείβετο, βῆ δὲ μετʼ ἄλλας\nψυχὰς εἰς Ἔρεβος νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων.\nἔνθα χʼ ὅμως προσέφη κεχολωμένος, ἤ κεν ἐγὼ τόν·\nἀλλά μοι ἤθελε θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισι\nτῶν ἄλλων ψυχὰς ἰδέειν κατατεθνηώτων.\nἔνθʼ ἦ τοι Μίνωα ἴδον, Διὸς ἀγλαὸν υἱόν,\nχρύσεον σκῆπτρον ἔχοντα, θεμιστεύοντα νέκυσσιν,\nἥμενον, οἱ δέ μιν ἀμφὶ δίκας εἴροντο ἄνακτα,\nἥμενοι ἑσταότες τε κατʼ εὐρυπυλὲς Ἄϊδος δῶ.\nτὸν δὲ μετʼ Ὠρίωνα πελώριον εἰσενόησα\nθῆρας ὁμοῦ εἰλεῦντα κατʼ ἀσφοδελὸν λειμῶνα,\nτοὺς αὐτὸς κατέπεφνεν ἐν οἰοπόλοισιν ὄρεσσι\nχερσὶν ἔχων ῥόπαλον παγχάλκεον, αἰὲν ἀαγές.\nκαὶ Τιτυὸν εἶδον, Γαίης ἐρικυδέος υἱόν,\nκείμενον ἐν δαπέδῳ· ὁ δʼ ἐπʼ ἐννέα κεῖτο πέλεθρα,\nγῦπε δέ μιν ἑκάτερθε παρημένω ἧπαρ ἔκειρον,\nδέρτρον ἔσω δύνοντες, ὁ δʼ οὐκ ἀπαμύνετο χερσί·\nΛητὼ γὰρ ἕλκησε, Διὸς κυδρὴν παράκοιτιν,\nΠυθώδʼ ἐρχομένην διὰ καλλιχόρου Πανοπῆος.\nκαὶ μὴν Τάνταλον εἰσεῖδον κρατέρʼ ἄλγεʼ ἔχοντα\nἑστεῶτʼ ἐν λίμνῃ· ἡ δὲ προσέπλαζε γενείῳ·\nστεῦτο δὲ διψάων, πιέειν δʼ οὐκ εἶχεν ἑλέσθαι·\nὁσσάκι γὰρ κύψειʼ ὁ γέρων πιέειν μενεαίνων,\nτοσσάχʼ ὕδωρ ἀπολέσκετʼ ἀναβροχέν, ἀμφὶ δὲ ποσσὶ\nγαῖα μέλαινα φάνεσκε, καταζήνασκε δὲ δαίμων.\nδένδρεα δʼ ὑψιπέτηλα κατὰ κρῆθεν χέε καρπόν,\nὄγχναι καὶ ῥοιαὶ καὶ μηλέαι ἀγλαόκαρποι\nσυκέαι τε γλυκεραὶ καὶ ἐλαῖαι τηλεθόωσαι·\nτῶν ὁπότʼ ἰθύσειʼ ὁ γέρων ἐπὶ χερσὶ μάσασθαι,\nτὰς δʼ ἄνεμος ῥίπτασκε ποτὶ νέφεα σκιόεντα.\nκαὶ μὴν Σίσυφον εἰσεῖδον κρατέρʼ ἄλγεʼ ἔχοντα\nλᾶαν βαστάζοντα πελώριον ἀμφοτέρῃσιν.\nἦ τοι ὁ μὲν σκηριπτόμενος χερσίν τε ποσίν τε\nλᾶαν ἄνω ὤθεσκε ποτὶ λόφον· ἀλλʼ ὅτε μέλλοι\nἄκρον ὑπερβαλέειν, τότʼ ἀποστρέψασκε κραταιίς·\nαὖτις ἔπειτα πέδονδε κυλίνδετο λᾶας ἀναιδής.\nαὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ ἂψ ὤσασκε τιταινόμενος, κατὰ δʼ ἱδρὼς\nἔρρεεν ἐκ μελέων, κονίη δʼ ἐκ κρατὸς ὀρώρει.\nτὸν δὲ μετʼ εἰσενόησα βίην Ἡρακληείην,\nεἴδωλον· αὐτὸς δὲ μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι\nτέρπεται ἐν θαλίῃς καὶ ἔχει καλλίσφυρον Ἥβην,\nπαῖδα Διὸς μεγάλοιο καὶ Ἥρης χρυσοπεδίλου.\nἀμφὶ δέ μιν κλαγγὴ νεκύων ἦν οἰωνῶν ὥς,\nπάντοσʼ ἀτυζομένων· ὁ δʼ ἐρεμνῇ νυκτὶ ἐοικώς,\nγυμνὸν τόξον ἔχων καὶ ἐπὶ νευρῆφιν ὀιστόν,\nδεινὸν παπταίνων, αἰεὶ βαλέοντι ἐοικώς.\nσμερδαλέος δέ οἱ ἀμφὶ περὶ στήθεσσιν ἀορτὴρ\nχρύσεος ἦν τελαμών, ἵνα θέσκελα ἔργα τέτυκτο,\nἄρκτοι τʼ ἀγρότεροί τε σύες χαροποί τε λέοντες,\nὑσμῖναί τε μάχαι τε φόνοι τʼ ἀνδροκτασίαι τε.\nμὴ τεχνησάμενος μηδʼ ἄλλο τι τεχνήσαιτο,\nὃς κεῖνον τελαμῶνα ἑῇ ἐγκάτθετο τέχνῃ.\nἔγνω δʼ αὖτʼ ἔμʼ ἐκεῖνος, ἐπεὶ ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,\nκαί μʼ ὀλοφυρόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nἆ δείλʼ, ἦ τινὰ καὶ σὺ κακὸν μόρον ἡγηλάζεις,\nὅν περ ἐγὼν ὀχέεσκον ὑπʼ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο.\nΖηνὸς μὲν πάϊς ἦα Κρονίονος, αὐτὰρ ὀιζὺν\nεἶχον ἀπειρεσίην· μάλα γὰρ πολὺ χείρονι φωτὶ\nδεδμήμην, ὁ δέ μοι χαλεποὺς ἐπετέλλετʼ ἀέθλους.\nκαί ποτέ μʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἔπεμψε κύνʼ ἄξοντʼ· οὐ γὰρ ἔτʼ ἄλλον\nφράζετο τοῦδέ γέ μοι κρατερώτερον εἶναι ἄεθλον·\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼν ἀνένεικα καὶ ἤγαγον ἐξ Ἀίδαο·\nἙρμείας δέ μʼ ἔπεμψεν ἰδὲ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.\nὣς εἰπὼν ὁ μὲν αὖτις ἔβη δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω,\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν αὐτοῦ μένον ἔμπεδον, εἴ τις ἔτʼ ἔλθοι\nἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, οἳ δὴ τὸ πρόσθεν ὄλοντο.\nκαί νύ κʼ ἔτι προτέρους ἴδον ἀνέρας, οὓς ἔθελόν περ,\nΘησέα Πειρίθοόν τε, θεῶν ἐρικυδέα τέκνα·\nἀλλὰ πρὶν ἐπὶ ἔθνεʼ ἀγείρετο μυρία νεκρῶν\nἠχῇ θεσπεσίῃ· ἐμὲ δὲ χλωρὸν δέος ᾕρει,\nμή μοι Γοργείην κεφαλὴν δεινοῖο πελώρου\nἐξ Ἀίδεω πέμψειεν ἀγαυὴ Περσεφόνεια.\nαὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κιὼν ἐκέλευον ἑταίρους\nαὐτούς τʼ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι.\nοἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον.\nτὴν δὲ κατʼ Ὠκεανὸν ποταμὸν φέρε κῦμα ῥόοιο,\nπρῶτα μὲν εἰρεσίῃ, μετέπειτα δὲ κάλλιμος οὖρος.\n\n### Book 12\n\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ ποταμοῖο λίπεν ῥόον Ὠκεανοῖο\nνηῦς, ἀπὸ δʼ ἵκετο κῦμα θαλάσσης εὐρυπόροιο\nνῆσόν τʼ Αἰαίην, ὅθι τʼ Ἠοῦς ἠριγενείης\nοἰκία καὶ χοροί εἰσι καὶ ἀντολαὶ Ἠελίοιο,\nνῆα μὲν ἔνθʼ ἐλθόντες ἐκέλσαμεν ἐν ψαμάθοισιν,\nἐκ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βῆμεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης·\nἔνθα δʼ ἀποβρίξαντες ἐμείναμεν Ἠῶ δῖαν.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nδὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάρους προΐειν ἐς δώματα Κίρκης\nοἰσέμεναι νεκρόν, Ἐλπήνορα τεθνηῶτα.\nφιτροὺς δʼ αἶψα ταμόντες, ὅθʼ ἀκροτάτη πρόεχʼ ἀκτή,\nθάπτομεν ἀχνύμενοι θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ νεκρός τʼ ἐκάη καὶ τεύχεα νεκροῦ,\nτύμβον χεύαντες καὶ ἐπὶ στήλην ἐρύσαντες\nπήξαμεν ἀκροτάτῳ τύμβῳ ἐυῆρες ἐρετμόν.\nἡμεῖς μὲν τὰ ἕκαστα διείπομεν· οὐδʼ ἄρα Κίρκην\nἐξ Ἀίδεω ἐλθόντες ἐλήθομεν, ἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὦκα\nἦλθʼ ἐντυναμένη· ἅμα δʼ ἀμφίπολοι φέρον αὐτῇ\nσῖτον καὶ κρέα πολλὰ καὶ αἴθοπα οἶνον ἐρυθρόν.\nἡ δʼ ἐν μέσσῳ στᾶσα μετηύδα δῖα θεάων·\nσχέτλιοι, οἳ ζώοντες ὑπήλθετε δῶμʼ Ἀίδαο,\nδισθανέες, ὅτε τʼ ἄλλοι ἅπαξ θνῄσκουσʼ ἄνθρωποι.\nἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ ἐσθίετε βρώμην καὶ πίνετε οἶνον\nαὖθι πανημέριοι· ἅμα δʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφι\nπλεύσεσθʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ δείξω ὁδὸν ἠδὲ ἕκαστα\nσημανέω, ἵνα μή τι κακορραφίῃ ἀλεγεινῇ\nἢ ἁλὸς ἢ ἐπὶ γῆς ἀλγήσετε πῆμα παθόντες.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.\nὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα\nἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·\nἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθεν,\nοἱ μὲν κοιμήσαντο παρὰ πρυμνήσια νηός,\nἡ δʼ ἐμὲ χειρὸς ἑλοῦσα φίλων ἀπονόσφιν ἑταίρων\nεἷσέ τε καὶ προσέλεκτο καὶ ἐξερέεινεν ἕκαστα·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τῇ πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν κατέλεξα.\nκαὶ τότε δή μʼ ἐπέεσσι προσηύδα πότνια Κίρκη·\nταῦτα μὲν οὕτω πάντα πεπείρανται, σὺ δʼ ἄκουσον,\nὥς τοι ἐγὼν ἐρέω, μνήσει δέ σε καὶ θεὸς αὐτός.\nΣειρῆνας μὲν πρῶτον ἀφίξεαι, αἵ ῥά τε πάντας\nἀνθρώπους θέλγουσιν, ὅτις σφεας εἰσαφίκηται.\nὅς τις ἀιδρείῃ πελάσῃ καὶ φθόγγον ἀκούσῃ\nΣειρήνων, τῷ δʼ οὔ τι γυνὴ καὶ νήπια τέκνα\nοἴκαδε νοστήσαντι παρίσταται οὐδὲ γάνυνται,\nἀλλά τε Σειρῆνες λιγυρῇ θέλγουσιν ἀοιδῇ\nἥμεναι ἐν λειμῶνι, πολὺς δʼ ἀμφʼ ὀστεόφιν θὶς\nἀνδρῶν πυθομένων, περὶ δὲ ῥινοὶ μινύθουσι.\nἀλλὰ παρεξελάαν, ἐπὶ δʼ οὔατʼ ἀλεῖψαι ἑταίρων\nκηρὸν δεψήσας μελιηδέα, μή τις ἀκούσῃ\nτῶν ἄλλων· ἀτὰρ αὐτὸς ἀκουέμεν αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα,\nδησάντων σʼ ἐν νηὶ θοῇ χεῖράς τε πόδας τε\nὀρθὸν ἐν ἱστοπέδῃ, ἐκ δʼ αὐτοῦ πείρατʼ ἀνήφθω,\nὄφρα κε τερπόμενος ὄπʼ ἀκούσῃς Σειρήνοιιν.\nεἰ δέ κε λίσσηαι ἑτάρους λῦσαί τε κελεύῃς,\nοἱ δέ σʼ ἔτι πλεόνεσσι τότʼ ἐν δεσμοῖσι διδέντων.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ τάς γε παρὲξ ἐλάσωσιν ἑταῖροι,\nἔνθα τοι οὐκέτʼ ἔπειτα διηνεκέως ἀγορεύσω,\nὁπποτέρη δή τοι ὁδὸς ἔσσεται, ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτὸς\nθυμῷ βουλεύειν· ἐρέω δέ τοι ἀμφοτέρωθεν.\nἔνθεν μὲν γὰρ πέτραι ἐπηρεφέες, προτὶ δʼ αὐτὰς\nκῦμα μέγα ῥοχθεῖ κυανώπιδος Ἀμφιτρίτης·\nΠλαγκτὰς δή τοι τάς γε θεοὶ μάκαρες καλέουσι.\nτῇ μέν τʼ οὐδὲ ποτητὰ παρέρχεται οὐδὲ πέλειαι\nτρήρωνες, ταί τʼ ἀμβροσίην Διὶ πατρὶ φέρουσιν,\nἀλλά τε καὶ τῶν αἰὲν ἀφαιρεῖται λὶς πέτρη·\nἀλλʼ ἄλλην ἐνίησι πατὴρ ἐναρίθμιον εἶναι.\nτῇ δʼ οὔ πώ τις νηῦς φύγεν ἀνδρῶν, ἥ τις ἵκηται,\nἀλλά θʼ ὁμοῦ πίνακάς τε νεῶν καὶ σώματα φωτῶν\nκύμαθʼ ἁλὸς φορέουσι πυρός τʼ ὀλοοῖο θύελλαι.\nοἴη δὴ κείνη γε παρέπλω ποντοπόρος νηῦς,\nἈργὼ πᾶσι μέλουσα, παρʼ Αἰήταο πλέουσα.\nκαὶ νύ κε τὴν ἔνθʼ ὦκα βάλεν μεγάλας ποτὶ πέτρας,\nἀλλʼ Ἥρη παρέπεμψεν, ἐπεὶ φίλος ἦεν Ἰήσων.\nοἱ δὲ δύω σκόπελοι ὁ μὲν οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἱκάνει\nὀξείῃ κορυφῇ, νεφέλη δέ μιν ἀμφιβέβηκε\nκυανέη· τὸ μὲν οὔ ποτʼ ἐρωεῖ, οὐδέ ποτʼ αἴθρη\nκείνου ἔχει κορυφὴν οὔτʼ ἐν θέρει οὔτʼ ἐν ὀπώρῃ.\nοὐδέ κεν ἀμβαίη βροτὸς ἀνὴρ οὐδʼ ἐπιβαίη,\nοὐδʼ εἴ οἱ χεῖρές τε ἐείκοσι καὶ πόδες εἶεν·\nπέτρη γὰρ λίς ἐστι, περιξεστῇ ἐικυῖα.\nμέσσῳ δʼ ἐν σκοπέλῳ ἔστι σπέος ἠεροειδές,\nπρὸς ζόφον εἰς Ἔρεβος τετραμμένον, ᾗ περ ἂν ὑμεῖς\nνῆα παρὰ γλαφυρὴν ἰθύνετε, φαίδιμʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ.\nοὐδέ κεν ἐκ νηὸς γλαφυρῆς αἰζήιος ἀνὴρ\nτόξῳ ὀιστεύσας κοῖλον σπέος εἰσαφίκοιτο.\nἔνθα δʼ ἐνὶ Σκύλλη ναίει δεινὸν λελακυῖα.\nτῆς ἦ τοι φωνὴ μὲν ὅση σκύλακος νεογιλῆς\nγίγνεται, αὐτὴ δʼ αὖτε πέλωρ κακόν· οὐδέ κέ τίς μιν\nγηθήσειεν ἰδών, οὐδʼ εἰ θεὸς ἀντιάσειεν.\nτῆς ἦ τοι πόδες εἰσὶ δυώδεκα πάντες ἄωροι,\nἓξ δέ τέ οἱ δειραὶ περιμήκεες, ἐν δὲ ἑκάστῃ\nσμερδαλέη κεφαλή, ἐν δὲ τρίστοιχοι ὀδόντες\nπυκνοὶ καὶ θαμέες, πλεῖοι μέλανος θανάτοιο.\nμέσση μέν τε κατὰ σπείους κοίλοιο δέδυκεν,\nἔξω δʼ ἐξίσχει κεφαλὰς δεινοῖο βερέθρου,\nαὐτοῦ δʼ ἰχθυάᾳ, σκόπελον περιμαιμώωσα,\nδελφῖνάς τε κύνας τε, καὶ εἴ ποθι μεῖζον ἕλῃσι\nκῆτος, ἃ μυρία βόσκει ἀγάστονος Ἀμφιτρίτη.\nτῇ δʼ οὔ πώ ποτε ναῦται ἀκήριοι εὐχετόωνται\nπαρφυγέειν σὺν νηί· φέρει δέ τε κρατὶ ἑκάστῳ\nφῶτʼ ἐξαρπάξασα νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο.\nτὸν δʼ ἕτερον σκόπελον χθαμαλώτερον ὄψει, Ὀδυσσεῦ.\nπλησίον ἀλλήλων· καί κεν διοϊστεύσειας.\nτῷ δʼ ἐν ἐρινεὸς ἔστι μέγας, φύλλοισι τεθηλώς·\nτῷ δʼ ὑπὸ δῖα Χάρυβδις ἀναρροιβδεῖ μέλαν ὕδωρ.\nτρὶς μὲν γάρ τʼ ἀνίησιν ἐπʼ ἤματι, τρὶς δʼ ἀναροιβδεῖ\nδεινόν· μὴ σύ γε κεῖθι τύχοις, ὅτε ῥοιβδήσειεν·\nοὐ γάρ κεν ῥύσαιτό σʼ ὑπὲκ κακοῦ οὐδʼ ἐνοσίχθων.\nἀλλὰ μάλα Σκύλλης σκοπέλῳ πεπλημένος ὦκα\nνῆα παρὲξ ἐλάαν, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτερόν ἐστιν\nἓξ ἑτάρους ἐν νηὶ ποθήμεναι ἢ ἅμα πάντας.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·\nεἰ δʼ ἄγε δή μοι τοῦτο, θεά, νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες,\nεἴ πως τὴν ὀλοὴν μὲν ὑπεκπροφύγοιμι Χάρυβδιν,\nτὴν δέ κʼ ἀμυναίμην, ὅτε μοι σίνοιτό γʼ ἑταίρους.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·\nσχέτλιε, καὶ δὴ αὖ τοι πολεμήια ἔργα μέμηλε\nκαὶ πόνος· οὐδὲ θεοῖσιν ὑπείξεαι ἀθανάτοισιν;\nἡ δέ τοι οὐ θνητή, ἀλλʼ ἀθάνατον κακόν ἐστι,\nδεινόν τʼ ἀργαλέον τε καὶ ἄγριον οὐδὲ μαχητόν·\nοὐδέ τις ἔστʼ ἀλκή· φυγέειν κάρτιστον ἀπʼ αὐτῆς.\nἢν γὰρ δηθύνῃσθα κορυσσόμενος παρὰ πέτρῃ,\nδείδω, μή σʼ ἐξαῦτις ἐφορμηθεῖσα κίχῃσι\nτόσσῃσιν κεφαλῇσι, τόσους δʼ ἐκ φῶτας ἕληται.\nἀλλὰ μάλα σφοδρῶς ἐλάαν, βωστρεῖν δὲ Κράταιιν,\nμητέρα τῆς Σκύλλης, ἥ μιν τέκε πῆμα βροτοῖσιν·\nἥ μιν ἔπειτʼ ἀποπαύσει ἐς ὕστερον ὁρμηθῆναι.\nΘρινακίην δʼ ἐς νῆσον ἀφίξεαι· ἔνθα δὲ πολλαὶ\nβόσκοντʼ Ἠελίοιο βόες καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,\nἑπτὰ βοῶν ἀγέλαι, τόσα δʼ οἰῶν πώεα καλά,\nπεντήκοντα δʼ ἕκαστα. γόνος δʼ οὐ γίγνεται αὐτῶν,\nοὐδέ ποτε φθινύθουσι. θεαὶ δʼ ἐπιποιμένες εἰσίν,\nνύμφαι ἐυπλόκαμοι, Φαέθουσά τε Λαμπετίη τε,\nἃς τέκεν Ἠελίῳ Ὑπερίονι δῖα Νέαιρα.\nτὰς μὲν ἄρα θρέψασα τεκοῦσά τε πότνια μήτηρ\nΘρινακίην ἐς νῆσον ἀπῴκισε τηλόθι ναίειν,\nμῆλα φυλασσέμεναι πατρώια καὶ ἕλικας βοῦς.\nτὰς εἰ μέν κʼ ἀσινέας ἐάᾳς νόστου τε μέδηαι,\nἦ τʼ ἂν ἔτʼ εἰς Ἰθάκην κακά περ πάσχοντες ἵκοισθε·\nεἰ δέ κε σίνηαι, τότε τοι τεκμαίρομʼ ὄλεθρον,\nνηί τε καὶ ἑτάροις· αὐτὸς δʼ εἴ πέρ κεν ἀλύξῃς,\nὀψὲ κακῶς νεῖαι, ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτίκα δὲ χρυσόθρονος ἤλυθεν Ἠώς.\nἡ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀνὰ νῆσον ἀπέστιχε δῖα θεάων·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆα κιὼν ὤτρυνον ἑταίρους\nαὐτούς τʼ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι·\nοἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον.\nἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.\nἡμῖν δʼ αὖ κατόπισθε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο\nἴκμενον οὖρον ἵει πλησίστιον, ἐσθλὸν ἑταῖρον,\nΚίρκη ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα.\nαὐτίκα δʼ ὅπλα ἕκαστα πονησάμενοι κατὰ νῆα\nἥμεθα· τὴν δʼ ἄνεμός τε κυβερνήτης τʼ ἴθυνε.\nδὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάροισι μετηύδων ἀχνύμενος κῆρ·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐ γὰρ χρὴ ἕνα ἴδμεναι οὐδὲ δύʼ οἴους\nθέσφαθʼ ἅ μοι Κίρκη μυθήσατο, δῖα θεάων·\nἀλλʼ ἐρέω μὲν ἐγών, ἵνα εἰδότες ἤ κε θάνωμεν\nἤ κεν ἀλευάμενοι θάνατον καὶ κῆρα φύγοιμεν.\nΣειρήνων μὲν πρῶτον ἀνώγει θεσπεσιάων\nφθόγγον ἀλεύασθαι καὶ λειμῶνʼ ἀνθεμόεντα.\nοἶον ἔμʼ ἠνώγει ὄπʼ ἀκουέμεν· ἀλλά με δεσμῷ\nδήσατʼ ἐν ἀργαλέῳ, ὄφρʼ ἔμπεδον αὐτόθι μίμνω,\nὀρθὸν ἐν ἱστοπέδῃ, ἐκ δʼ αὐτοῦ πείρατʼ ἀνήφθω.\nεἰ δέ κε λίσσωμαι ὑμέας λῦσαί τε κελεύω,\nὑμεῖς δὲ πλεόνεσσι τότʼ ἐν δεσμοῖσι πιέζειν.\nἦ τοι ἐγὼ τὰ ἕκαστα λέγων ἑτάροισι πίφαυσκον·\nτόφρα δὲ καρπαλίμως ἐξίκετο νηῦς ἐυεργὴς\nνῆσον Σειρήνοιιν· ἔπειγε γὰρ οὖρος ἀπήμων.\nαὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἄνεμος μὲν ἐπαύσατο ἠδὲ γαλήνη\nἔπλετο νηνεμίη, κοίμησε δὲ κύματα δαίμων.\nἀνστάντες δʼ ἕταροι νεὸς ἱστία μηρύσαντο\nκαὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν νηὶ γλαφυρῇ θέσαν, οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ἐρετμὰ\nἑζόμενοι λεύκαινον ὕδωρ ξεστῇς ἐλάτῃσιν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ κηροῖο μέγαν τροχὸν ὀξέι χαλκῷ\nτυτθὰ διατμήξας χερσὶ στιβαρῇσι πίεζον·\nαἶψα δʼ ἰαίνετο κηρός, ἐπεὶ κέλετο μεγάλη ἲς\nἨελίου τʼ αὐγὴ Ὑπεριονίδαο ἄνακτος·\nἑξείης δʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐπʼ οὔατα πᾶσιν ἄλειψα.\nοἱ δʼ ἐν νηί μʼ ἔδησαν ὁμοῦ χεῖράς τε πόδας τε\nὀρθὸν ἐν ἱστοπέδῃ, ἐκ δʼ αὐτοῦ πείρατʼ ἀνῆπτον·\nαὐτοὶ δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε τόσσον ἀπῆμεν ὅσον τε γέγωνε βοήσας,\nῥίμφα διώκοντες, τὰς δʼ οὐ λάθεν ὠκύαλος νηῦς\nἐγγύθεν ὀρνυμένη, λιγυρὴν δʼ ἔντυνον ἀοιδήν·\nδεῦρʼ ἄγʼ ἰών, πολύαινʼ Ὀδυσεῦ, μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,\nνῆα κατάστησον, ἵνα νωιτέρην ὄπ ἀκούσῃς.\nοὐ γάρ πώ τις τῇδε παρήλασε νηὶ μελαίνῃ,\nπρίν γʼ ἡμέων μελίγηρυν ἀπὸ στομάτων ὄπʼ ἀκοῦσαι,\nἀλλʼ ὅ γε τερψάμενος νεῖται καὶ πλείονα εἰδώς.\nἴδμεν γάρ τοι πάνθʼ ὅσʼ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ εὐρείῃ\nἈργεῖοι Τρῶές τε θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησαν,\nἴδμεν δʼ, ὅσσα γένηται ἐπὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ.\nὣς φάσαν ἱεῖσαι ὄπα κάλλιμον· αὐτὰρ ἐμὸν κῆρ\nἤθελʼ ἀκουέμεναι, λῦσαί τʼ ἐκέλευον ἑταίρους\nὀφρύσι νευστάζων· οἱ δὲ προπεσόντες ἔρεσσον.\nαὐτίκα δʼ ἀνστάντες Περιμήδης Εὐρύλοχός τε\nπλείοσί μʼ ἐν δεσμοῖσι δέον μᾶλλόν τε πίεζον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τάς γε παρήλασαν, οὐδʼ ἔτʼ ἔπειτα\nφθογγῆς Σειρήνων ἠκούομεν οὐδέ τʼ ἀοιδῆς,\nαἶψʼ ἀπὸ κηρὸν ἕλοντο ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι,\nὅν σφιν ἐπʼ ὠσὶν ἄλειψʼ, ἐμέ τʼ ἐκ δεσμῶν ἀνέλυσαν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἐλείπομεν, αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα\nκαπνὸν καὶ μέγα κῦμα ἴδον καὶ δοῦπον ἄκουσα.\nτῶν δʼ ἄρα δεισάντων ἐκ χειρῶν ἔπτατʼ ἐρετμά,\nβόμβησαν δʼ ἄρα πάντα κατὰ ῥόον· ἔσχετο δʼ αὐτοῦ\nνηῦς, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτʼ ἐρετμὰ προήκεα χερσὶν ἔπειγον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ διὰ νηὸς ἰὼν ὤτρυνον ἑταίρους\nμειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι παρασταδὸν ἄνδρα ἕκαστον·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐ γάρ πώ τι κακῶν ἀδαήμονές εἰμεν·\nοὐ μὲν δὴ τόδε μεῖζον ἕπει κακόν, ἢ ὅτε Κύκλωψ\nεἴλει ἐνὶ σπῆι γλαφυρῷ κρατερῆφι βίηφιν·\nἀλλὰ καὶ ἔνθεν ἐμῇ ἀρετῇ, βουλῇ τε νόῳ τε,\nἐκφύγομεν, καί που τῶνδε μνήσεσθαι ὀίω.\nνῦν δʼ ἄγεθʼ, ὡς ἂν ἐγὼ εἴπω, πειθώμεθα πάντες.\nὑμεῖς μὲν κώπῃσιν ἁλὸς ῥηγμῖνα βαθεῖαν\nτύπτετε κληίδεσσιν ἐφήμενοι, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς\nδώῃ τόνδε γʼ ὄλεθρον ὑπεκφυγέειν καὶ ἀλύξαι·\nσοὶ δέ, κυβερνῆθʼ, ὧδʼ ἐπιτέλλομαι· ἀλλʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nβάλλευ, ἐπεὶ νηὸς γλαφυρῆς οἰήια νωμᾷς.\nτούτου μὲν καπνοῦ καὶ κύματος ἐκτὸς ἔεργε\nνῆα, σὺ δὲ σκοπέλου ἐπιμαίεο, μή σε λάθῃσι\nκεῖσʼ ἐξορμήσασα καὶ ἐς κακὸν ἄμμε βάλῃσθα.\nὣς ἐφάμην, οἱ δʼ ὦκα ἐμοῖς ἐπέεσσι πίθοντο.\nΣκύλλην δʼ οὐκέτʼ ἐμυθεόμην, ἄπρηκτον ἀνίην,\nμή πώς μοι δείσαντες ἀπολλήξειαν ἑταῖροι\nεἰρεσίης, ἐντὸς δὲ πυκάζοιεν σφέας αὐτούς.\nκαὶ τότε δὴ Κίρκης μὲν ἐφημοσύνης ἀλεγεινῆς\nλανθανόμην, ἐπεὶ οὔ τί μʼ ἀνώγει θωρήσσεσθαι·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καταδὺς κλυτὰ τεύχεα καὶ δύο δοῦρε\nμάκρʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἑλὼν εἰς ἴκρια νηὸς ἔβαινον\nπρῴρης· ἔνθεν γάρ μιν ἐδέγμην πρῶτα φανεῖσθαι\nΣκύλλην πετραίην, ἥ μοι φέρε πῆμʼ ἑτάροισιν.\nοὐδέ πῃ ἀθρῆσαι δυνάμην, ἔκαμον δέ μοι ὄσσε\nπάντῃ παπταίνοντι πρὸς ἠεροειδέα πέτρην.\nἡμεῖς μὲν στεινωπὸν ἀνεπλέομεν γοόωντες·\nἔνθεν μὲν Σκύλλη, ἑτέρωθι δὲ δῖα Χάρυβδις\nδεινὸν ἀνερροίβδησε θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.\nἦ τοι ὅτʼ ἐξεμέσειε, λέβης ὣς ἐν πυρὶ πολλῷ\nπᾶσʼ ἀναμορμύρεσκε κυκωμένη, ὑψόσε δʼ ἄχνη\nἄκροισι σκοπέλοισιν ἐπʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἔπιπτεν·\nἀλλʼ ὅτʼ ἀναβρόξειε θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ,\nπᾶσʼ ἔντοσθε φάνεσκε κυκωμένη, ἀμφὶ δὲ πέτρη\nδεινὸν ἐβεβρύχει, ὑπένερθε δὲ γαῖα φάνεσκε\nψάμμῳ κυανέη· τοὺς δὲ χλωρὸν δέος ᾕρει.\nἡμεῖς μὲν πρὸς τὴν ἴδομεν δείσαντες ὄλεθρον·\nτόφρα δέ μοι Σκύλλη γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑταίρους\nἓξ ἕλεθʼ, οἳ χερσίν τε βίηφί τε φέρτατοι ἦσαν.\nσκεψάμενος δʼ ἐς νῆα θοὴν ἅμα καὶ μεθʼ ἑταίρους\nἤδη τῶν ἐνόησα πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὕπερθεν\nὑψόσʼ ἀειρομένων· ἐμὲ δὲ φθέγγοντο καλεῦντες\nἐξονομακλήδην, τότε γʼ ὕστατον, ἀχνύμενοι κῆρ.\nὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἐπὶ προβόλῳ ἁλιεὺς περιμήκεϊ ῥάβδῳ\nἰχθύσι τοῖς ὀλίγοισι δόλον κατὰ εἴδατα βάλλων\nἐς πόντον προΐησι βοὸς κέρας ἀγραύλοιο,\nἀσπαίροντα δʼ ἔπειτα λαβὼν ἔρριψε θύραζε,\nὣς οἵ γʼ ἀσπαίροντες ἀείροντο προτὶ πέτρας·\nαὐτοῦ δʼ εἰνὶ θύρῃσι κατήσθιε κεκληγῶτας\nχεῖρας ἐμοὶ ὀρέγοντας ἐν αἰνῇ δηιοτῆτι·\nοἴκτιστον δὴ κεῖνο ἐμοῖς ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσι\nπάντων, ὅσσʼ ἐμόγησα πόρους ἁλὸς ἐξερεείνων.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πέτρας φύγομεν δεινήν τε Χάρυβδιν\nΣκύλλην τʼ, αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα θεοῦ ἐς ἀμύμονα νῆσον\nἱκόμεθʼ· ἔνθα δʼ ἔσαν καλαὶ βόες εὐρυμέτωποι,\nπολλὰ δὲ ἴφια μῆλʼ Ὑπερίονος Ἠελίοιο.\nδὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἔτι πόντῳ ἐὼν ἐν νηὶ μελαίνῃ\nμυκηθμοῦ τʼ ἤκουσα βοῶν αὐλιζομενάων\nοἰῶν τε βληχήν· καί μοι ἔπος ἔμπεσε θυμῷ\nμάντηος ἀλαοῦ, Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο,\nΚίρκης τʼ Αἰαίης, ἥ μοι μάλα πόλλʼ ἐπέτελλε\nνῆσον ἀλεύασθαι τερψιμβρότου Ἠελίοιο.\nδὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάροισι μετηύδων ἀχνύμενος κῆρ·\nκέκλυτέ μευ μύθων κακά περ πάσχοντες ἑταῖροι,\nὄφρʼ ὑμῖν εἴπω μαντήια Τειρεσίαο\nΚίρκης τʼ Αἰαίης, ἥ μοι μάλα πόλλʼ ἐπέτελλε\nνῆσον ἀλεύασθαι τερψιμβρότου Ἠελίοιο·\nἔνθα γὰρ αἰνότατον κακὸν ἔμμεναι ἄμμιν ἔφασκεν.\nἀλλὰ παρὲξ τὴν νῆσον ἐλαύνετε νῆα μέλαιναν.\nὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δὲ κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ.\nαὐτίκα δʼ Εὐρύλοχος στυγερῷ μʼ ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·\nσχέτλιός εἰς, Ὀδυσεῦ· περί τοι μένος, οὐδέ τι γυῖα\nκάμνεις· ἦ ῥά νυ σοί γε σιδήρεα πάντα τέτυκται,\nὅς ῥʼ ἑτάρους καμάτῳ ἁδηκότας ἠδὲ καὶ ὕπνῳ\nοὐκ ἐάᾳς γαίης ἐπιβήμεναι, ἔνθα κεν αὖτε\nνήσῳ ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ λαρὸν τετυκοίμεθα δόρπον,\nἀλλʼ αὔτως διὰ νύκτα θοὴν ἀλάλησθαι ἄνωγας\nνήσου ἀποπλαγχθέντας ἐν ἠεροειδέι πόντῳ.\nἐκ νυκτῶν δʼ ἄνεμοι χαλεποί, δηλήματα νηῶν,\nγίγνονται· πῇ κέν τις ὑπεκφύγοι αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον,\nἤν πως ἐξαπίνης ἔλθῃ ἀνέμοιο θύελλα,\nἢ Νότου ἢ Ζεφύροιο δυσαέος, οἵ τε μάλιστα\nνῆα διαρραίουσι θεῶν ἀέκητι ἀνάκτων.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι νῦν μὲν πειθώμεθα νυκτὶ μελαίνῃ\nδόρπον θʼ ὁπλισόμεσθα θοῇ παρὰ νηὶ μένοντες,\nἠῶθεν δʼ ἀναβάντες ἐνήσομεν εὐρέι πόντῳ.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Εὐρύλοχος, ἐπὶ δʼ ᾔνεον ἄλλοι ἑταῖροι.\nκαὶ τότε δὴ γίγνωσκον ὃ δὴ κακὰ μήδετο δαίμων,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·\nΕὐρύλοχʼ, ἦ μάλα δή με βιάζετε μοῦνον ἐόντα.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν μοι πάντες ὀμόσσατε καρτερὸν ὅρκον·\nεἴ κέ τινʼ ἠὲ βοῶν ἀγέλην ἢ πῶυ μέγʼ οἰῶν\nεὕρωμεν, μή πού τις ἀτασθαλίῃσι κακῇσιν\nἢ βοῦν ἠέ τι μῆλον ἀποκτάνῃ· ἀλλὰ ἕκηλοι\nἐσθίετε βρώμην, τὴν ἀθανάτη πόρε Κίρκη.\nὣς ἐφάμην, οἱ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀπώμνυον, ὡς ἐκέλευον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσάν τε τελεύτησάν τε τὸν ὅρκον,\nστήσαμεν ἐν λιμένι γλαφυρῷ ἐυεργέα νῆα\nἄγχʼ ὕδατος γλυκεροῖο, καὶ ἐξαπέβησαν ἑταῖροι\nνηός, ἔπειτα δὲ δόρπον ἐπισταμένως τετύκοντο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nμνησάμενοι δὴ ἔπειτα φίλους ἔκλαιον ἑταίρους,\nοὓς ἔφαγε Σκύλλη γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑλοῦσα·\nκλαιόντεσσι δὲ τοῖσιν ἐπήλυθε νήδυμος ὕπνος.\nἦμος δὲ τρίχα νυκτὸς ἔην, μετὰ δʼ ἄστρα βεβήκει,\nὦρσεν ἔπι ζαῆν ἄνεμον νεφεληγερέτα Ζεὺς\nλαίλαπι θεσπεσίῃ, σὺν δὲ νεφέεσσι κάλυψε\nγαῖαν ὁμοῦ καὶ πόντον· ὀρώρει δʼ οὐρανόθεν νύξ.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nνῆα μὲν ὡρμίσαμεν κοῖλον σπέος εἰσερύσαντες.\nἔνθα δʼ ἔσαν νυμφέων καλοὶ χοροὶ ἠδὲ θόωκοι·\nκαὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἀγορὴν θέμενος μετὰ μῦθον ἔειπον·\nὦ φίλοι, ἐν γὰρ νηὶ θοῇ βρῶσίς τε πόσις τε\nἔστιν, τῶν δὲ βοῶν ἀπεχώμεθα, μή τι πάθωμεν·\nδεινοῦ γὰρ θεοῦ αἵδε βόες καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,\nἨελίου, ὃς πάντʼ ἐφορᾷ καὶ πάντʼ ἐπακούει.\nὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.\nμῆνα δὲ πάντʼ ἄλληκτος ἄη Νότος, οὐδέ τις ἄλλος\nγίγνετʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀνέμων εἰ μὴ Εὖρός τε Νότος τε.\nοἱ δʼ ἧος μὲν σῖτον ἔχον καὶ οἶνον ἐρυθρόν,\nτόφρα βοῶν ἀπέχοντο λιλαιόμενοι βιότοιο.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ νηὸς ἐξέφθιτο ἤια πάντα,\nκαὶ δὴ ἄγρην ἐφέπεσκον ἀλητεύοντες ἀνάγκῃ,\nἰχθῦς ὄρνιθάς τε, φίλας ὅ τι χεῖρας ἵκοιτο,\nγναμπτοῖς ἀγκίστροισιν, ἔτειρε δὲ γαστέρα λιμός·\nδὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἀνὰ νῆσον ἀπέστιχον, ὄφρα θεοῖσιν\nεὐξαίμην, εἴ τίς μοι ὁδὸν φήνειε νέεσθαι.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ διὰ νήσου ἰὼν ἤλυξα ἑταίρους,\nχεῖρας νιψάμενος, ὅθʼ ἐπὶ σκέπας ἦν ἀνέμοιο,\nἠρώμην πάντεσσι θεοῖς οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν·\nοἱ δʼ ἄρα μοι γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔχευαν.\nΕὐρύλοχος δʼ ἑτάροισι κακῆς ἐξήρχετο βουλῆς·\nκέκλυτέ μευ μύθων κακά περ πάσχοντες ἑταῖροι.\nπάντες μὲν στυγεροὶ θάνατοι δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι,\nλιμῷ δʼ οἴκτιστον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ, Ἠελίοιο βοῶν ἐλάσαντες ἀρίστας\nῥέξομεν ἀθανάτοισι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.\nεἰ δέ κεν εἰς Ἰθάκην ἀφικοίμεθα, πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nαἶψά κεν Ἠελίῳ Ὑπερίονι πίονα νηὸν\nτεύξομεν, ἐν δέ κε θεῖμεν ἀγάλματα πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλά.\nεἰ δὲ χολωσάμενός τι βοῶν ὀρθοκραιράων\nνῆʼ ἐθέλῃ ὀλέσαι, ἐπὶ δʼ ἕσπωνται θεοὶ ἄλλοι,\nβούλομʼ ἅπαξ πρὸς κῦμα χανὼν ἀπὸ θυμὸν ὀλέσσαι,\nἢ δηθὰ στρεύγεσθαι ἐὼν ἐν νήσῳ ἐρήμῃ.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Εὐρύλοχος, ἐπὶ δʼ ᾔνεον ἄλλοι ἑταῖροι.\nαὐτίκα δʼ Ἠελίοιο βοῶν ἐλάσαντες ἀρίστας\nἐγγύθεν, οὐ γὰρ τῆλε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο\nβοσκέσκονθʼ ἕλικες καλαὶ βόες εὐρυμέτωποι·\nτὰς δὲ περίστησάν τε καὶ εὐχετόωντο θεοῖσιν,\nφύλλα δρεψάμενοι τέρενα δρυὸς ὑψικόμοιο·\nοὐ γὰρ ἔχον κρῖ λευκὸν ἐυσσέλμου ἐπὶ νηός.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ εὔξαντο καὶ ἔσφαξαν καὶ ἔδειραν,\nμηρούς τʼ ἐξέταμον κατά τε κνίσῃ ἐκάλυψαν\nδίπτυχα ποιήσαντες, ἐπʼ αὐτῶν δʼ ὠμοθέτησαν.\nοὐδʼ εἶχον μέθυ λεῖψαι ἐπʼ αἰθομένοις ἱεροῖσιν,\nἀλλʼ ὕδατι σπένδοντες ἐπώπτων ἔγκατα πάντα.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κατὰ μῆρʼ ἐκάη καὶ σπλάγχνα πάσαντο,\nμίστυλλόν τʼ ἄρα τἆλλα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειραν.\nκαὶ τότε μοι βλεφάρων ἐξέσσυτο νήδυμος ὕπνος,\nβῆν δʼ ἰέναι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ σχεδὸν ἦα κιὼν νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης,\nκαὶ τότε με κνίσης ἀμφήλυθεν ἡδὺς ἀυτμή.\nοἰμώξας δὲ θεοῖσι μέγʼ ἀθανάτοισι γεγώνευν·\nΖεῦ πάτερ ἠδʼ ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,\nἦ με μάλʼ εἰς ἄτην κοιμήσατε νηλέι ὕπνῳ.\nοἱ δʼ ἕταροι μέγα ἔργον ἐμητίσαντο μένοντες.\nὠκέα δʼ Ἠελίῳ Ὑπερίονι ἄγγελος ἦλθε\nΛαμπετίη τανύπεπλος, ὅ οἱ βόας ἔκταμεν ἡμεῖς.\nαὐτίκα δʼ ἀθανάτοισι μετηύδα χωόμενος κῆρ·\nΖεῦ πάτερ ἠδʼ ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,\nτῖσαι δὴ ἑτάρους Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,\nοἵ μευ βοῦς ἔκτειναν ὑπέρβιον, ᾗσιν ἐγώ γε\nχαίρεσκον μὲν ἰὼν εἰς οὐρανὸν ἀστερόεντα,\nἠδʼ ὁπότʼ ἂψ ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἀπʼ οὐρανόθεν προτραποίμην.\nεἰ δέ μοι οὐ τίσουσι βοῶν ἐπιεικέʼ ἀμοιβήν,\nδύσομαι εἰς Ἀίδαο καὶ ἐν νεκύεσσι φαείνω.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·\nἨέλιʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν σὺ μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι φάεινε\nκαὶ θνητοῖσι βροτοῖσιν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν·\nτῶν δέ κʼ ἐγὼ τάχα νῆα θοὴν ἀργῆτι κεραυνῷ\nτυτθὰ βαλὼν κεάσαιμι μέσῳ ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ.\nταῦτα δʼ ἐγὼν ἤκουσα Καλυψοῦς ἠυκόμοιο·\nἡ δʼ ἔφη Ἑρμείαο διακτόρου αὐτὴ ἀκοῦσαι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,\nνείκεον ἄλλοθεν ἄλλον ἐπισταδόν, οὐδέ τι μῆχος\nεὑρέμεναι δυνάμεσθα, βόες δʼ ἀποτέθνασαν ἤδη.\nτοῖσιν δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα θεοὶ τέραα προύφαινον·\nεἷρπον μὲν ῥινοί, κρέα δʼ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσι μεμύκει,\nὀπταλέα τε καὶ ὠμά, βοῶν δʼ ὣς γίγνετο φωνή.\nἑξῆμαρ μὲν ἔπειτα ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι\nδαίνυντʼ Ἠελίοιο βοῶν ἐλάσαντες ἀρίστας·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἕβδομον ἦμαρ ἐπὶ Ζεὺς θῆκε Κρονίων,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἔπειτʼ ἄνεμος μὲν ἐπαύσατο λαίλαπι θύων,\nἡμεῖς δʼ αἶψʼ ἀναβάντες ἐνήκαμεν εὐρέι πόντῳ,\nἱστὸν στησάμενοι ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λεύκʼ ἐρύσαντες.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἐλείπομεν, οὐδέ τις ἄλλη\nφαίνετο γαιάων, ἀλλʼ οὐρανὸς ἠδὲ θάλασσα,\nδὴ τότε κυανέην νεφέλην ἔστησε Κρονίων\nνηὸς ὕπερ γλαφυρῆς, ἤχλυσε δὲ πόντος ὑπʼ αὐτῆς.\nἡ δʼ ἔθει οὐ μάλα πολλὸν ἐπὶ χρόνον· αἶψα γὰρ ἦλθε\nκεκληγὼς Ζέφυρος μεγάλῃ σὺν λαίλαπι θύων,\nἱστοῦ δὲ προτόνους ἔρρηξʼ ἀνέμοιο θύελλα\nἀμφοτέρους· ἱστὸς δʼ ὀπίσω πέσεν, ὅπλα τε πάντα\nεἰς ἄντλον κατέχυνθʼ. ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρυμνῇ ἐνὶ νηὶ\nπλῆξε κυβερνήτεω κεφαλήν, σὺν δʼ ὀστέʼ ἄραξε\nπάντʼ ἄμυδις κεφαλῆς· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ ἀρνευτῆρι ἐοικὼς\nκάππεσʼ ἀπʼ ἰκριόφιν, λίπε δʼ ὀστέα θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.\nΖεὺς δʼ ἄμυδις βρόντησε καὶ ἔμβαλε νηὶ κεραυνόν·\nἡ δʼ ἐλελίχθη πᾶσα Διὸς πληγεῖσα κεραυνῷ,\nἐν δὲ θεείου πλῆτο, πέσον δʼ ἐκ νηὸς ἑταῖροι.\nοἱ δὲ κορώνῃσιν ἴκελοι περὶ νῆα μέλαιναν\nκύμασιν ἐμφορέοντο, θεὸς δʼ ἀποαίνυτο νόστον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ διὰ νηὸς ἐφοίτων, ὄφρʼ ἀπὸ τοίχους\nλῦσε κλύδων τρόπιος, τὴν δὲ ψιλὴν φέρε κῦμα,\nἐκ δέ οἱ ἱστὸν ἄραξε ποτὶ τρόπιν. αὐτὰρ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ\nἐπίτονος βέβλητο, βοὸς ῥινοῖο τετευχώς·\nτῷ ῥʼ ἄμφω συνέεργον, ὁμοῦ τρόπιν ἠδὲ καὶ ἱστόν,\nἑζόμενος δʼ ἐπὶ τοῖς φερόμην ὀλοοῖς ἀνέμοισιν.\nἔνθʼ ἦ τοι Ζέφυρος μὲν ἐπαύσατο λαίλαπι θύων,\nἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ Νότος ὦκα, φέρων ἐμῷ ἄλγεα θυμῷ,\nὄφρʼ ἔτι τὴν ὀλοὴν ἀναμετρήσαιμι Χάρυβδιν.\nπαννύχιος φερόμην, ἅμα δʼ ἠελίῳ ἀνιόντι\nἦλθον ἐπὶ Σκύλλης σκόπελον δεινήν τε Χάρυβδιν.\nἡ μὲν ἀνερροίβδησε θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ ποτὶ μακρὸν ἐρινεὸν ὑψόσʼ ἀερθείς,\nτῷ προσφὺς ἐχόμην ὡς νυκτερίς. οὐδέ πῃ εἶχον\nοὔτε στηρίξαι ποσὶν ἔμπεδον οὔτʼ ἐπιβῆναι·\nῥίζαι γὰρ ἑκὰς εἶχον, ἀπήωροι δʼ ἔσαν ὄζοι,\nμακροί τε μεγάλοι τε, κατεσκίαον δὲ Χάρυβδιν.\nνωλεμέως δʼ ἐχόμην, ὄφρʼ ἐξεμέσειεν ὀπίσσω\nἱστὸν καὶ τρόπιν αὖτις· ἐελδομένῳ δέ μοι ἦλθον\nὄψʼ· ἦμος δʼ ἐπὶ δόρπον ἀνὴρ ἀγορῆθεν ἀνέστη\nκρίνων νείκεα πολλὰ δικαζομένων αἰζηῶν,\nτῆμος δὴ τά γε δοῦρα Χαρύβδιος ἐξεφαάνθη.\nἧκα δʼ ἐγὼ καθύπερθε πόδας καὶ χεῖρε φέρεσθαι,\nμέσσῳ δʼ ἐνδούπησα παρὲξ περιμήκεα δοῦρα,\nἑζόμενος δʼ ἐπὶ τοῖσι διήρεσα χερσὶν ἐμῇσι.\nΣκύλλην δʼ οὐκέτʼ ἔασε πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε\nεἰσιδέειν· οὐ γάρ κεν ὑπέκφυγον αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.\nἔνθεν δʼ ἐννῆμαρ φερόμην, δεκάτῃ δέ με νυκτὶ\nνῆσον ἐς Ὠγυγίην πέλασαν θεοί, ἔνθα Καλυψὼ\nναίει ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα,\nἥ μʼ ἐφίλει τʼ ἐκόμει τε. τί τοι τάδε μυθολογεύω;\nἤδη γάρ τοι χθιζὸς ἐμυθεόμην ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nσοί τε καὶ ἰφθίμῃ ἀλόχῳ· ἐχθρὸν δέ μοί ἐστιν\nαὖτις ἀριζήλως εἰρημένα μυθολογεύειν.\n\n### Book 13\n\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ,\nκηληθμῷ δʼ ἔσχοντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·\nὦ Ὀδυσεῦ, ἐπεὶ ἵκευ ἐμὸν ποτὶ χαλκοβατὲς δῶ,\nὑψερεφές, τῷ σʼ οὔ τι παλιμπλαγχθέντα γʼ ὀΐω\nἂψ ἀπονοστήσειν, εἰ καὶ μάλα πολλὰ πέπονθας.\nὑμέων δʼ ἀνδρὶ ἑκάστῳ ἐφιέμενος τάδε εἴρω,\nὅσσοι ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γερούσιον αἴθοπα οἶνον\nαἰεὶ πίνετʼ ἐμοῖσιν, ἀκουάζεσθε δʼ ἀοιδοῦ.\nεἵματα μὲν δὴ ξείνῳ ἐϋξέστῃ ἐνὶ χηλῷ\nκεῖται καὶ χρυσὸς πολυδαίδαλος ἄλλα τε πάντα\nδῶρʼ, ὅσα Φαιήκων βουληφόροι ἐνθάδʼ ἔνεικαν·\nἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ δῶμεν τρίποδα μέγαν ἠδὲ λέβητα\nἀνδρακάς· ἡμεῖς δʼ αὖτε ἀγειρόμενοι κατὰ δῆμον\nτισόμεθʼ· ἀργαλέον γὰρ ἕνα προικὸς χαρίσασθαι.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀλκίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.\nοἱ μὲν κακκείοντες ἔβαν οἶκόνδε ἕκαστος,\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nνῆάδʼ ἐπεσσεύοντο, φέρον δʼ εὐήνορα χαλκόν.\nκαὶ τὰ μὲν εὖ κατέθηχʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nαὐτὸς ἰὼν διὰ νηὸς ὑπὸ ζυγά, μή τινʼ ἑταίρων\nβλάπτοι ἐλαυνόντων, ὁπότε σπερχοίατʼ ἐρετμοῖς.\nοἱ δʼ εἰς Ἀλκινόοιο κίον καὶ δαῖτʼ ἀλέγυνον.\nτοῖσι δὲ βοῦν ἱέρευσʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο\nΖηνὶ κελαινεφέϊ Κρονίδῃ, ὃς πᾶσιν ἀνάσσει.\nμῆρα δὲ κήαντες δαίνυντʼ ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα\nτερπόμενοι· μετὰ δέ σφιν ἐμέλπετο θεῖος ἀοιδός,\nΔημόδοκος, λαοῖσι τετιμένος. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nπολλὰ πρὸς ἠέλιον κεφαλὴν τρέπε παμφανόωντα,\nδῦναι ἐπειγόμενος· δὴ γὰρ μενέαινε νέεσθαι.\nὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἀνὴρ δόρποιο λιλαίεται, ᾧ τε πανῆμαρ\nνειὸν ἀνʼ ἕλκητον βόε οἴνοπε πηκτὸν ἄροτρον·\nἀσπασίως δʼ ἄρα τῷ κατέδυ φάος ἠελίοιο\nδόρπον ἐποίχεσθαι, βλάβεται δέ τε γούνατʼ ἰόντι·\nὣς Ὀδυσῆʼ ἀσπαστὸν ἔδυ φάος ἠελίοιο.\nαἶψα δὲ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μετηύδα,\nἈλκινόῳ δὲ μάλιστα πιφαυσκόμενος φάτο μῦθον·\nἈλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,\nπέμπετέ με σπείσαντες ἀπήμονα, χαίρετε δʼ αὐτοί·\nἤδη γὰρ τετέλεσται ἅ μοι φίλος ἤθελε θυμός,\nπομπὴ καὶ φίλα δῶρα, τά μοι θεοὶ Οὐρανίωνες\nὄλβια ποιήσειαν· ἀμύμονα δʼ οἴκοι ἄκοιτιν\nνοστήσας εὕροιμι σὺν ἀρτεμέεσσι φίλοισιν.\nὑμεῖς δʼ αὖθι μένοντες ἐϋφραίνοιτε γυναῖκας\nκουριδίας καὶ τέκνα· θεοὶ δʼ ἀρετὴν ὀπάσειαν\nπαντοίην, καὶ μή τι κακὸν μεταδήμιον εἴη.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον\nπεμπέμεναι τὸν ξεῖνον, ἐπεὶ κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπεν.\nκαὶ τότε κήρυκα προσέφη μένος Ἀλκινόοιο·\nΠοντόνοε, κρητῆρα κερασσάμενος μέθυ νεῖμον\nπᾶσιν ἀνὰ μέγαρον, ὄφρʼ εὐξάμενοι Διὶ πατρὶ\nτὸν ξεῖνον πέμπωμεν ἑὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nὣς φάτο, Ποντόνοος δὲ μελίφρονα οἶνον ἐκίρνα,\nνώμησεν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπισταδόν· οἱ δὲ θεοῖσιν\nἔσπεισαν μακάρεσσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,\nαὐτόθεν ἐξ ἑδρέων. ἀνὰ δʼ ἵστατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἈρήτῃ δʼ ἐν χειρὶ τίθει δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nχαῖρέ μοι, ὦ βασίλεια, διαμπερές, εἰς ὅ κε γῆρας\nἔλθῃ καὶ θάνατος, τά τʼ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώποισι πέλονται.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ νέομαι· σὺ δὲ τέρπεο τῷδʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nπαισί τε καὶ λαοῖσι καὶ Ἀλκινόῳ βασιλῆϊ.\nὣς εἰπὼν ὑπὲρ οὐδὸν ἐβήσετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nτῷ δʼ ἅμα κήρυκα προΐει μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,\nἡγεῖσθαι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης·\nἈρήτη δʼ ἄρα οἱ δμῳὰς ἅμʼ ἔπεμπε γυναῖκας,\nτὴν μὲν φᾶρος ἔχουσαν ἐϋπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,\nτὴν δʼ ἑτέρην χηλὸν πυκινὴν ἅμʼ ὄπασσε κομίζειν·\nἡ δʼ ἄλλη σῖτόν τʼ ἔφερεν καὶ οἶνον ἐρυθρόν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,\nαἶψα τά γʼ ἐν νηῒ γλαφυρῇ πομπῆες ἀγαυοὶ\nδεξάμενοι κατέθεντο, πόσιν καὶ βρῶσιν ἅπασαν·\nκὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆϊ στόρεσαν ῥῆγός τε λίνον τε\nνηὸς ἐπʼ ἰκριόφιν γλαφυρῆς, ἵνα νήγρετον εὕδοι,\nπρυμνῆς· ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐβήσετο καὶ κατέλεκτο\nσιγῇ· τοὶ δὲ καθῖζον ἐπὶ κληῗσιν ἕκαστοι\nκόσμῳ, πεῖσμα δʼ ἔλυσαν ἀπὸ τρητοῖο λίθοιο.\nεὖθʼ οἱ ἀνακλινθέντες ἀνερρίπτουν ἅλα πηδῷ,\nκαὶ τῷ νήδυμος ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔπιπτε,\nνήγρετος, ἥδιστος, θανάτῳ ἄγχιστα ἐοικώς.\nἡ δʼ, ὥς τʼ ἐν πεδίῳ τετράοροι ἄρσενες ἵπποι,\nπάντες ἅμʼ ὁρμηθέντες ὑπὸ πληγῇσιν ἱμάσθλης,\nὑψόσʼ ἀειρόμενοι ῥίμφα πρήσσουσι κέλευθον,\nὣς ἄρα τῆς πρύμνη μὲν ἀείρετο, κῦμα δʼ ὄπισθε\nπορφύρεον μέγα θῦε πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης.\nἡ δὲ μάλʼ ἀσφαλέως θέεν ἔμπεδον· οὐδέ κεν ἴρηξ\nκίρκος ὁμαρτήσειεν, ἐλαφρότατος πετεηνῶν.\nὣς ἡ ῥίμφα θέουσα θαλάσσης κύματʼ ἔταμνεν,\nἄνδρα φέρουσα θεοῖς ἐναλίγκια μήδεʼ ἔχοντα·\nὃς πρὶν μὲν μάλα πολλὰ πάθʼ ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμὸν\nἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων,\nδὴ τότε γʼ ἀτρέμας εὗδε, λελασμένος ὅσσʼ ἐπεπόνθει.\nεὖτʼ ἀστὴρ ὑπερέσχε φαάντατος, ὅς τε μάλιστα\nἔρχεται ἀγγέλλων φάος Ἠοῦς ἠριγενείης,\nτῆμος δὴ νήσῳ προσεπίλνατο ποντοπόρος νηῦς.\nΦόρκυνος δέ τίς ἐστι λιμήν, ἁλίοιο γέροντος,\nἐν δήμῳ Ἰθάκης· δύο δὲ προβλῆτες ἐν αὐτῷ\nἀκταὶ ἀπορρῶγες, λιμένος ποτιπεπτηυῖαι,\nαἵ τʼ ἀνέμων σκεπόωσι δυσαήων μέγα κῦμα\nἔκτοθεν· ἔντοσθεν δέ τʼ ἄνευ δεσμοῖο μένουσι\nνῆες ἐΰσσελμοι, ὅτʼ ἂν ὅρμου μέτρον ἵκωνται.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὶ κρατὸς λιμένος τανύφυλλος ἐλαίη,\nἀγχόθι δʼ αὐτῆς ἄντρον ἐπήρατον ἠεροειδές,\nἱρὸν νυμφάων αἳ νηϊάδες καλέονται.\nἐν δὲ κρητῆρές τε καὶ ἀμφιφορῆες ἔασιν\nλάϊνοι· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα τιθαιβώσσουσι μέλισσαι.\nἐν δʼ ἱστοὶ λίθεοι περιμήκεες, ἔνθα τε νύμφαι\nφάρεʼ ὑφαίνουσιν ἁλιπόρφυρα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι·\nἐν δʼ ὕδατʼ ἀενάοντα. δύω δέ τέ οἱ θύραι εἰσίν,\nαἱ μὲν πρὸς Βορέαο καταιβαταὶ ἀνθρώποισιν,\nαἱ δʼ αὖ πρὸς Νότου εἰσὶ θεώτεραι· οὐδέ τι κείνῃ\nἄνδρες ἐσέρχονται, ἀλλʼ ἀθανάτων ὁδός ἐστιν.\nἔνθʼ οἵ γʼ εἰσέλασαν, πρὶν εἰδότες· ἡ μὲν ἔπειτα\nἠπείρῳ ἐπέκελσεν, ὅσον τʼ ἐπὶ ἥμισυ πάσης,\nσπερχομένη· τοῖον γὰρ ἐπείγετο χέρσʼ ἐρετάων·\nοἱ δʼ ἐκ νηὸς βάντες ἐϋζύγου ἤπειρόνδε\nπρῶτον Ὀδυσσῆα γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἄειραν\nαὐτῷ σύν τε λίνῳ καὶ ῥήγεϊ σιγαλόεντι,\nκὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ ψαμάθῳ ἔθεσαν δεδμημένον ὕπνῳ,\nἐκ δὲ κτήματʼ ἄειραν, ἅ οἱ Φαίηκες ἀγαυοὶ\nὤπασαν οἴκαδʼ ἰόντι διὰ μεγάθυμον Ἀθήνην.\nκαὶ τὰ μὲν οὖν παρὰ πυθμένʼ ἐλαίης ἀθρόα θῆκαν\nἐκτὸς ὁδοῦ, μή πώς τις ὁδιτάων ἀνθρώπων,\nπρίν γʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ ἔγρεσθαι, ἐπελθὼν δηλήσαιτο·\nαὐτοὶ δʼ αὖτʼ οἶκόνδε πάλιν κίον. οὐδʼ ἐνοσίχθων\nλήθετʼ ἀπειλάων, τὰς ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆϊ\nπρῶτον ἐπηπείλησε, Διὸς δʼ ἐξείρετο βουλήν·\nΖεῦ πάτερ, οὐκέτʼ ἐγώ γε μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι\nτιμήεις ἔσομαι, ὅτε με βροτοὶ οὔ τι τίουσιν,\nΦαίηκες, τοί πέρ τοι ἐμῆς ἔξ εἰσι γενέθλης.\nκαὶ γὰρ νῦν Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐφάμην κακὰ πολλὰ παθόντα\nοἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· νόστον δέ οἱ οὔ ποτʼ ἀπηύρων\nπάγχυ, ἐπεὶ σὺ πρῶτον ὑπέσχεο καὶ κατένευσας.\nοἱ δʼ εὕδοντʼ ἐν νηῒ θοῇ ἐπὶ πόντον ἄγοντες\nκάτθεσαν εἰν Ἰθάκῃ, ἔδοσαν δέ οἱ ἄσπετα δῶρα,\nχαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά θʼ ὑφαντήν,\nπόλλʼ, ὅσʼ ἂν οὐδέ ποτε Τροίης ἐξήρατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nεἴ περ ἀπήμων ἦλθε, λαχὼν ἀπὸ ληΐδος αἶσαν.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·\nὢ πόποι, ἐννοσίγαιʼ εὐρυσθενές, οἷον ἔειπες.\nοὔ τί σʼ ἀτιμάζουσι θεοί· χαλεπὸν δέ κεν εἴη\nπρεσβύτατον καὶ ἄριστον ἀτιμίῃσιν ἰάλλειν.\nἀνδρῶν δʼ εἴ πέρ τίς σε βίῃ καὶ κάρτεϊ εἴκων\nοὔ τι τίει. σοὶ δʼ ἐστὶ καὶ ἐξοπίσω τίσις αἰεί.\nἔρξον ὅπως ἐθέλεις καί τοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων·\nαἶψά κʼ ἐγὼν ἔρξαιμι, κελαινεφές, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·\nἀλλὰ σὸν αἰεὶ θυμὸν ὀπίζομαι ἠδʼ ἀλεείνω.\nνῦν αὖ Φαιήκων ἐθέλω περικαλλέα νῆα,\nἐκ πομπῆς ἀνιοῦσαν, ἐν ἠεροειδέϊ πόντῳ\nῥαῖσαι, ἵνʼ ἤδη σχῶνται, ἀπολλήξωσι δὲ πομπῆς\nἀνθρώπων, μέγα δέ σφιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψαι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·\nὢ πέπον, ὡς μὲν ἐμῷ θυμῷ δοκεῖ εἶναι ἄριστα,\nὁππότε κεν δὴ πάντες ἐλαυνομένην προΐδωνται\nλαοὶ ἀπὸ πτόλιος, θεῖναι λίθον ἐγγύθι γαίης\nνηῒ θοῇ ἴκελον, ἵνα θαυμάζωσιν ἅπαντες\nἄνθρωποι, μέγα δέ σφιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψαι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,\nβῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐς Σχερίην, ὅθι Φαίηκες γεγάασιν.\nἔνθʼ ἔμενʼ· ἡ δὲ μάλα σχεδὸν ἤλυθε ποντοπόρος νηῦς\nῥίμφα διωκομένη· τῆς δὲ σχεδὸν ἦλθʼ ἐνοσίχθων,\nὅς μιν λᾶαν ἔθηκε καὶ ἐρρίζωσεν ἔνερθε\nχειρὶ καταπρηνεῖ ἐλάσας· ὁ δὲ νόσφι βεβήκει.\nοἱ δὲ πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευον\nΦαίηκες δολιχήρετμοι, ναυσίκλυτοι ἄνδρες.\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·\nὤ μοι, τίς δὴ νῆα θοὴν ἐπέδησʼ ἐνὶ πόντῳ\nοἴκαδʼ ἐλαυνομένην; καὶ δὴ προὐφαίνετο πᾶσα.\nὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε· τὰ δʼ οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δή με παλαίφατα θέσφαθʼ ἱκάνει\nπατρὸς ἐμοῦ, ὃς ἔφασκε Ποσειδάωνʼ ἀγάσασθαι\nἡμῖν, οὕνεκα πομποὶ ἀπήμονές εἰμεν ἁπάντων.\nφῆ ποτὲ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν περικαλλέα, νῆα,\nἐκ πομπῆς ἀνιοῦσαν, ἐν ἠεροειδέϊ πόντῳ\nῥαισέμεναι, μέγα δʼ ἧμιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψειν.\nὣς ἀγόρευʼ ὁ γέρων· τὰ δὲ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.\nἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ, ὡς ἂν ἐγὼ εἴπω, πειθώμεθα πάντες·\nπομπῆς μὲν παύσασθε βροτῶν, ὅτε κέν τις ἵκηται\nἡμέτερον προτὶ ἄστυ· Ποσειδάωνι δὲ ταύρους\nδώδεκα κεκριμένους ἱερεύσομεν, αἴ κʼ ἐλεήσῃ,\nμηδʼ ἡμῖν περίμηκες ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψῃ.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἔδεισαν, ἑτοιμάσσαντο δὲ ταύρους.\nὣς οἱ μέν ῥʼ εὔχοντο Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι\nδήμου Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,\nἑσταότες περὶ βωμόν. ὁ δʼ ἔγρετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nεὕδων ἐν γαίῃ πατρωΐῃ, οὐδέ μιν ἔγνω,\nἤδη δὴν ἀπεών· περὶ γὰρ θεὸς ἠέρα χεῦε\nΠαλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διός, ὄφρα μιν αὐτὸν\nἄγνωστον τεύξειεν ἕκαστά τε μυθήσαιτο,\nμή μιν πρὶν ἄλοχος γνοίη ἀστοί τε φίλοι τε,\nπρὶν πᾶσαν μνηστῆρας ὑπερβασίην ἀποτῖσαι.\nτοὔνεκʼ ἄρʼ ἀλλοειδέα φαινέσκετο πάντα ἄνακτι,\nἀτραπιτοί τε διηνεκέες λιμένες τε πάνορμοι\nπέτραι τʼ ἠλίβατοι καὶ δένδρεα τηλεθόωντα.\nστῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἀναΐξας καί ῥʼ εἴσιδε πατρίδα γαῖαν·\nᾤμωξέν τʼ ἄρ ἔπειτα καὶ ὣ πεπλήγετο μηρὼ\nχερσὶ καταπρηνέσσʼ, ὀλοφυρόμενος δʼ ἔπος ηὔδα·\nὤ μοι ἐγώ, τέων αὖτε βροτῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἱκάνω;\nἦ ῥʼ οἵ γʼ ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,\nἦε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής;\nπῇ δὴ χρήματα πολλὰ φέρω τάδε; πῇ τε καὶ αὐτὸς\nπλάζομαι; αἴθʼ ὄφελον μεῖναι παρὰ Φαιήκεσσιν\nαὐτοῦ· ἐγὼ δέ κεν ἄλλον ὑπερμενέων βασιλήων\nἐξικόμην, ὅς κέν μʼ ἐφίλει καὶ ἔπεμπε νέεσθαι.\nνῦν δʼ οὔτʼ ἄρ πῃ θέσθαι ἐπίσταμαι, οὐδὲ μὲν αὐτοῦ\nκαλλείψω, μή πώς μοι ἕλωρ ἄλλοισι γένηται.\nὢ πόποι, οὐκ ἄρα πάντα νοήμονες οὐδὲ δίκαιοι\nἦσαν Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,\nοἵ μʼ εἰς ἄλλην γαῖαν ἀπήγαγον, ἦ τέ μʼ ἔφαντο\nἄξειν εἰς Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον, οὐδʼ ἐτέλεσσαν.\nΖεὺς σφέας τίσαιτο ἱκετήσιος, ὅς τε καὶ ἄλλους\nἀνθρώπους ἐφορᾷ καὶ τίνυται ὅς τις ἁμάρτῃ.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε δὴ τὰ χρήματʼ ἀριθμήσω καὶ ἴδωμαι,\nμή τί μοι οἴχωνται κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς ἄγοντες.\nὣς εἰπὼν τρίποδας περικαλλέας ἠδὲ λέβητας\nἠρίθμει καὶ χρυσὸν ὑφαντά τε εἵματα καλά.\nτῶν μὲν ἄρʼ οὔ τι πόθει· ὁ δʼ ὀδύρετο πατρίδα γαῖαν\nἑρπύζων παρὰ θῖνα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης,\nπόλλʼ ὀλοφυρόμενος. σχεδόθεν δέ οἱ ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη,\nἀνδρὶ δέμας εἰκυῖα νέῳ, ἐπιβώτορι μήλων,\nπαναπάλῳ, οἷοί τε ἀνάκτων παῖδες ἔασι,\nδίπτυχον ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἔχουσʼ εὐεργέα λώπην·\nποσσὶ δʼ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσι πέδιλʼ ἔχε, χερσὶ δʼ ἄκοντα.\nτὴν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς γήθησεν ἰδὼν καὶ ἐναντίος ἦλθε,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεί σε πρῶτα κιχάνω τῷδʼ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,\nχαῖρέ τε καὶ μή μοί τι κακῷ νόῳ ἀντιβολήσαις,\nἀλλὰ σάω μὲν ταῦτα, σάω δʼ ἐμέ· σοὶ γὰρ ἐγώ γε\nεὔχομαι ὥς τε θεῷ καί σευ φίλα γούναθʼ ἱκάνω.\nκαί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ·\nτίς γῆ, τίς δῆμος, τίνες ἀνέρες ἐγγεγάασιν;\nἦ πού τις νήσων εὐδείελος, ἦέ τις ἀκτὴ\nκεῖθʼ ἁλὶ κεκλιμένη ἐριβώλακος ἠπείροιο;\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nνήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖνʼ, ἢ τηλόθεν εἰλήλουθας,\nεἰ δὴ τήνδε τε γαῖαν ἀνείρεαι. οὐδέ τι λίην\nοὕτω νώνυμός ἐστιν· ἴσασι δέ μιν μάλα πολλοί,\nἠμὲν ὅσοι ναίουσι πρὸς ἠῶ τʼ ἠέλιόν τε,\nἠδʼ ὅσσοι μετόπισθε ποτὶ ζόφον ἠερόεντα.\nἦ τοι μὲν τρηχεῖα καὶ οὐχ ἱππήλατός ἐστιν,\nοὐδὲ λίην λυπρή, ἀτὰρ οὐδʼ εὐρεῖα τέτυκται.\nἐν μὲν γάρ οἱ σῖτος ἀθέσφατος, ἐν δέ τε οἶνος\nγίγνεται· αἰεὶ δʼ ὄμβρος ἔχει τεθαλυῖά τʼ ἐέρση·\nαἰγίβοτος δʼ ἀγαθὴ καὶ βούβοτος· ἔστι μὲν ὕλη\nπαντοίη, ἐν δʼ ἀρδμοὶ ἐπηετανοὶ παρέασι.\nτῷ τοι, ξεῖνʼ, Ἰθάκης γε καὶ ἐς Τροίην ὄνομʼ ἵκει,\nτήν περ τηλοῦ φασὶν Ἀχαιΐδος ἔμμεναι αἴης.\nὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nχαίρων ᾗ γαίῃ πατρωΐῃ, ὥς οἱ ἔειπε\nΠαλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς, αἰγιόχοιο·\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nοὐδʼ ὅ γʼ ἀληθέα εἶπε, πάλιν δʼ ὅ γε λάζετο μῦθον,\nαἰεὶ ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόον πολυκερδέα νωμῶν·\nπυνθανόμην Ἰθάκης γε καὶ ἐν Κρήτῃ εὐρείῃ,\nτηλοῦ ὑπὲρ πόντου· νῦν δʼ εἰλήλουθα καὶ αὐτὸς\nχρήμασι σὺν τοίσδεσσι· λιπὼν δʼ ἔτι παισὶ τοσαῦτα\nφεύγω, ἐπεὶ φίλον υἷα κατέκτανον Ἰδομενῆος,\nὈρσίλοχον πόδας ὠκύν, ὃς ἐν Κρήτῃ εὐρείῃ\nἀνέρας ἀλφηστὰς νίκα ταχέεσσι πόδεσσιν,\nοὕνεκά με στερέσαι τῆς ληΐδος ἤθελε πάσης\nΤρωϊάδος, τῆς εἵνεκʼ ἐγὼ πάθον ἄλγεα θυμῷ,\nἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων,\nοὕνεκʼ ἄρʼ οὐχ ᾧ πατρὶ χαριζόμενος θεράπευον\nδήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ἀλλʼ ἄλλων ἦρχον ἑταίρων.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼ κατιόντα βάλον χαλκήρεϊ δουρὶ\nἀγρόθεν, ἐγγὺς ὁδοῖο λοχησάμενος σὺν ἑταίρῳ·\nνὺξ δὲ μάλα δνοφερὴ κάτεχʼ οὐρανόν, οὐδέ τις ἡμέας\nἀνθρώπων ἐνόησε, λάθον δέ ἑ θυμὸν ἀπούρας.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τόν γε κατέκτανον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,\nαὐτίκʼ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆα κιὼν Φοίνικας ἀγαυοὺς\nἐλλισάμην, καί σφιν μενοεικέα ληΐδα δῶκα·\nτούς μʼ ἐκέλευσα Πύλονδε καταστῆσαι καὶ ἐφέσσαι\nἢ εἰς Ἤλιδα δῖαν, ὅθι κρατέουσιν Ἐπειοί.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι σφέας κεῖθεν ἀπώσατο ἲς ἀνέμοιο\nπόλλʼ ἀεκαζομένους, οὐδʼ ἤθελον ἐξαπατῆσαι.\nκεῖθεν δὲ πλαγχθέντες ἱκάνομεν ἐνθάδε νυκτός.\nσπουδῇ δʼ ἐς λιμένα προερέσσαμεν, οὐδέ τις ἡμῖν\nδόρπου μνῆστις ἔην, μάλα περ χατέουσιν ἑλέσθαι,\nἀλλʼ αὔτως ἀποβάντες ἐκείμεθα νηὸς ἅπαντες.\nἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἐπήλυθε κεκμηῶτα,\nοἱ δὲ χρήματʼ ἐμὰ γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑλόντες\nκάτθεσαν, ἔνθα περ αὐτὸς ἐπὶ ψαμάθοισιν ἐκείμην.\nοἱ δʼ ἐς Σιδονίην εὖ ναιομένην ἀναβάντες\nᾤχοντʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ λιπόμην ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ.\nὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,\nχειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξε· δέμας δʼ ἤϊκτο γυναικὶ\nκαλῇ τε μεγάλῃ τε καὶ ἀγλαὰ ἔργα ἰδυίῃ·\nκαί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nκερδαλέος κʼ εἴη καὶ ἐπίκλοπος ὅς σε παρέλθοι\nἐν πάντεσσι δόλοισι, καὶ εἰ θεὸς ἀντιάσειε.\nσχέτλιε, ποικιλομῆτα, δόλων ἆτʼ, οὐκ ἄρʼ ἔμελλες,\nοὐδʼ ἐν σῇ περ ἐὼν γαίῃ, λήξειν ἀπατάων\nμύθων τε κλοπίων, οἵ τοι πεδόθεν φίλοι εἰσίν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε, μηκέτι ταῦτα λεγώμεθα, εἰδότες ἄμφω\nκέρδεʼ, ἐπεὶ σὺ μέν ἐσσι βροτῶν ὄχʼ ἄριστος ἁπάντων\nβουλῇ καὶ μύθοισιν, ἐγὼ δʼ ἐν πᾶσι θεοῖσι\nμήτι τε κλέομαι καὶ κέρδεσιν· οὐδὲ σύ γʼ ἔγνως\nΠαλλάδʼ Ἀθηναίην, κούρην Διός, ἥ τέ τοι αἰεὶ\nἐν πάντεσσι πόνοισι παρίσταμαι ἠδὲ φυλάσσω,\nκαὶ δέ σε Φαιήκεσσι φίλον πάντεσσιν ἔθηκα,\nνῦν αὖ δεῦρʼ ἱκόμην, ἵνα τοι σὺν μῆτιν ὑφήνω\nχρήματά τε κρύψω, ὅσα τοι Φαίηκες ἀγαυοὶ\nὤπασαν οἴκαδʼ ἰόντι ἐμῇ βουλῇ τε νόῳ τε,\nεἴπω θʼ ὅσσα τοι αἶσα δόμοις ἔνι ποιητοῖσι\nκήδεʼ ἀνασχέσθαι· σὺ δὲ τετλάμεναι καὶ ἀνάγκῃ,\nμηδέ τῳ ἐκφάσθαι μήτʼ ἀνδρῶν μήτε γυναικῶν,\nπάντων, οὕνεκʼ ἄρʼ ἦλθες ἀλώμενος, ἀλλὰ σιωπῇ\nπάσχειν ἄλγεα πολλά, βίας ὑποδέγμενος ἀνδρῶν.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἀργαλέον σε, θεά, γνῶναι βροτῷ ἀντιάσαντι,\nκαὶ μάλʼ ἐπισταμένῳ· σὲ γὰρ αὐτὴν παντὶ ἐΐσκεις.\nτοῦτο δʼ ἐγὼν εὖ οἶδʼ, ὅτι μοι πάρος ἠπίη ἦσθα,\nἧος ἐνὶ Τροίῃ πολεμίζομεν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Πριάμοιο πόλιν διεπέρσαμεν αἰπήν,\nβῆμεν δʼ ἐν νήεσσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐκέδασσεν Ἀχαιούς,\nοὔ σέ γʼ ἔπειτα ἴδον, κούρη Διός, οὐδʼ ἐνόησα\nνηὸς ἐμῆς ἐπιβᾶσαν, ὅπως τί μοι ἄλγος ἀλάλκοις.\nἀλλʼ αἰεὶ φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἔχων δεδαϊγμένον ἦτορ\nἠλώμην, ἧός με θεοὶ κακότητος ἔλυσαν·\nπρίν γʼ ὅτε Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν ἐν πίονι δήμῳ\nθάρσυνάς τε ἔπεσσι καὶ ἐς πόλιν ἤγαγες αὐτή.\nνῦν δέ σε πρὸς πατρὸς γουνάζομαι—οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω\nἥκειν εἰς Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον, ἀλλά τινʼ ἄλλην\nγαῖαν ἀναστρέφομαι· σὲ δὲ κερτομέουσαν ὀΐω\nταῦτʼ ἀγορευέμεναι, ἵνʼ ἐμὰς φρένας ἠπεροπεύσῃς—\nεἰπέ μοι εἰ ἐτεόν γε φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἱκάνω.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nαἰεί τοι τοιοῦτον ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόημα·\nτῷ σε καὶ οὐ δύναμαι προλιπεῖν δύστηνον ἐόντα,\nοὕνεκʼ ἐπητής ἐσσι καὶ ἀγχίνοος καὶ ἐχέφρων.\nἀσπασίως γάρ κʼ ἄλλος ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν\nἵετʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροις ἰδέειν παῖδάς τʼ ἄλοχόν τε·\nσοὶ δʼ οὔ πω φίλον ἐστὶ δαήμεναι οὐδὲ πυθέσθαι,\nπρίν γʼ ἔτι σῆς ἀλόχου πειρήσεαι, ἥ τέ τοι αὔτως\nἧσται ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν, ὀϊζυραὶ δέ οἱ αἰεὶ\nφθίνουσιν νύκτες τε καὶ ἤματα δάκρυ χεούσῃ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τὸ μὲν οὔ ποτʼ ἀπίστεον, ἀλλʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nᾔδεʼ, ὃ νοστήσεις ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους·\nἀλλά τοι οὐκ ἐθέλησα Ποσειδάωνι μάχεσθαι\nπατροκασιγνήτῳ, ὅς τοι κότον ἔνθετο θυμῷ,\nχωόμενος ὅτι οἱ υἱὸν φίλον ἐξαλάωσας.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε τοι δείξω Ἰθάκης ἕδος, ὄφρα πεποίθῃς.\nΦόρκυνος μὲν ὅδʼ ἐστὶ λιμήν, ἁλίοιο γέροντος,\nἥδε δʼ ἐπὶ κρατὸς λιμένος τανύφυλλος ἐλαίη·\nἀγχόθι δʼ αὐτῆς ἄντρον ἐπήρατον ἠεροειδές,\nἱρὸν νυμφάων, αἳ νηϊάδες καλέονται·\nτοῦτο δέ τοι σπέος ἐστὶ κατηρεφές, ἔνθα σὺ πολλὰς\nἔρδεσκες νύμφῃσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας·\nτοῦτο δὲ Νήριτόν ἐστιν ὄρος καταειμένον ὕλῃ.\nὣς εἰποῦσα θεὰ σκέδασʼ ἠέρα, εἴσατο δὲ χθών·\nγήθησέν τʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nχαίρων ᾗ γαίῃ, κύσε δὲ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.\nαὐτίκα δὲ νύμφῃς ἠρήσατο, χεῖρας ἀνασχών·\nνύμφαι νηϊάδες, κοῦραι Διός, οὔ ποτʼ ἐγώ γε\nὄψεσθʼ ὔμμʼ ἐφάμην· νῦν δʼ εὐχωλῇς ἀγανῇσι\nχαίρετʼ· ἀτὰρ καὶ δῶρα διδώσομεν, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ,\nαἴ κεν ἐᾷ πρόφρων με Διὸς θυγάτηρ ἀγελείη\nαὐτόν τε ζώειν καί μοι φίλον υἱὸν ἀέξῃ.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nθάρσει, μή τοι ταῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι μελόντων.\nἀλλὰ χρήματα μὲν μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο\nθείμεν αὐτίκα νῦν, ἵνα περ τάδε τοι σόα μίμνῃ·\nαὐτοὶ δὲ φραζώμεθʼ ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένηται.\nὣς εἰποῦσα θεὰ δῦνε σπέος ἠεροειδές,\nμαιομένη κευθμῶνας ἀνὰ σπέος· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἆσσον πάντʼ ἐφόρει, χρυσὸν καὶ ἀτειρέα χαλκὸν\nεἵματά τʼ εὐποίητα, τά οἱ Φαίηκες ἔδωκαν.\nκαὶ τὰ μὲν εὖ κατέθηκε, λίθον δʼ ἐπέθηκε θύρῃσι\nΠαλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο.\nτὼ δὲ καθεζομένω ἱερῆς παρὰ πυθμένʼ ἐλαίης\nφραζέσθην μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ὄλεθρον.\nτοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nφράζευ ὅπως μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσεις,\nοἳ δή τοι τρίετες μέγαρον κάτα κοιρανέουσι,\nμνώμενοι ἀντιθέην ἄλοχον καὶ ἕδνα διδόντες·\nἡ δὲ σὸν αἰεὶ νόστον ὀδυρομένη κατὰ θυμὸν\nπάντας μέν ῥʼ ἔλπει καὶ ὑπίσχεται ἀνδρὶ ἑκάστῳ,\nἀγγελίας προϊεῖσα, νόος δέ οἱ ἄλλα μενοινᾷ.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο\nφθίσεσθαι κακὸν οἶτον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔμελλον,\nεἰ μή μοι σὺ ἕκαστα, θεά, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μῆτιν ὕφηνον, ὅπως ἀποτίσομαι αὐτούς·\nπὰρ δέ μοι αὐτὴ στῆθι, μένος πολυθαρσὲς ἐνεῖσα,\nοἷον ὅτε Τροίης λύομεν λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα.\nαἴ κέ μοι ὣς μεμαυῖα παρασταίης, γλαυκῶπι,\nκαί κε τριηκοσίοισιν ἐγὼν ἄνδρεσσι μαχοίμην\nσὺν σοί, πότνα θεά, ὅτε μοι πρόφρασσʼ ἐπαρήγοις.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nκαὶ λίην τοι ἐγώ γε παρέσσομαι, οὐδέ με λήσεις,\nὁππότε κεν δὴ ταῦτα πενώμεθα· καί τινʼ ὀΐω\nαἵματί τʼ ἐγκεφάλῳ τε παλαξέμεν ἄσπετον οὖδας\nἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε σʼ ἄγνωστον τεύξω πάντεσσι βροτοῖσι·\nκάρψω μὲν χρόα καλὸν ἐνὶ γναμπτοῖσι μέλεσσι,\nξανθὰς δʼ ἐκ κεφαλῆς ὀλέσω τρίχας, ἀμφὶ δὲ λαῖφος\nἕσσω ὅ κε στυγέῃσιν ἰδὼν ἄνθρωπον ἔχοντα,\nκνυζώσω δέ τοι ὄσσε πάρος περικαλλέʼ ἐόντε,\nὡς ἂν ἀεικέλιος πᾶσι μνηστῆρσι φανήῃς\nσῇ τʼ ἀλόχῳ καὶ παιδί, τὸν ἐν μεγάροισιν ἔλειπες.\nαὐτὸς δὲ πρώτιστα συβώτην εἰσαφικέσθαι,\nὅς τοι ὑῶν ἐπίουρος, ὁμῶς δέ τοι ἤπια οἶδε,\nπαῖδά τε σὸν φιλέει καὶ ἐχέφρονα Πηνελόπειαν.\nδήεις τόν γε σύεσσι παρήμενον· αἱ δὲ νέμονται\nπὰρ Κόρακος πέτρῃ ἐπί τε κρήνῃ Ἀρεθούσῃ,\nἔσθουσαι βάλανον μενοεικέα καὶ μέλαν ὕδωρ\nπίνουσαι, τά θʼ ὕεσσι τρέφει τεθαλυῖαν ἀλοιφήν.\nἔνθα μένειν καὶ πάντα παρήμενος ἐξερέεσθαι,\nὄφρʼ ἂν ἐγὼν ἔλθω Σπάρτην ἐς καλλιγύναικα\nΤηλέμαχον καλέουσα, τεὸν φίλον υἱόν, Ὀδυσσεῦ·\nὅς τοι ἐς εὐρύχορον Λακεδαίμονα πὰρ Μενέλαον\nᾤχετο πευσόμενος μετὰ σὸν κλέος, εἴ που ἔτʼ εἴης.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nτίπτε τʼ ἄρʼ οὔ οἱ ἔειπες, ἐνὶ φρεσὶ πάντα ἰδυῖα;\nἦ ἵνα που καὶ κεῖνος ἀλώμενος ἄλγεα πάσχῃ\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον· βίοτον δέ οἱ ἄλλοι ἔδουσι;\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nμὴ δή τοι κεῖνός γε λίην ἐνθύμιος ἔστω.\nαὐτή μιν πόμπευον, ἵνα κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἄροιτο\nκεῖσʼ ἐλθών· ἀτὰρ οὔ τινʼ ἔχει πόνον, ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος\nἧσται ἐν Ἀτρεΐδαο δόμοις, παρὰ δʼ ἄσπετα κεῖται.\nἦ μέν μιν λοχόωσι νέοι σὺν νηῒ μελαίνῃ,\nἱέμενοι κτεῖναι, πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·\nἀλλὰ τά γʼ οὐκ ὀΐω, πρὶν καί τινα γαῖα καθέξει\nἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν.\nὣς ἄρα μιν φαμένη ῥάβδῳ ἐπεμάσσατʼ Ἀθήνη.\nκάρψεν μὲν χρόα καλὸν ἐνὶ γναμπτοῖσι μέλεσσι,\nξανθὰς δʼ ἐκ κεφαλῆς ὄλεσε τρίχας, ἀμφὶ δὲ δέρμα\nπάντεσσιν μελέεσσι παλαιοῦ θῆκε γέροντος,\nκνύζωσεν δέ οἱ ὄσσε πάρος περικαλλέʼ ἐόντε·\nἀμφὶ δέ μιν ῥάκος ἄλλο κακὸν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,\nῥωγαλέα ῥυπόωντα, κακῷ μεμορυγμένα καπνῷ·\nἀμφὶ δέ μιν μέγα δέρμα ταχείης ἕσσʼ ἐλάφοιο,\nψιλόν· δῶκε δέ οἱ σκῆπτρον καὶ ἀεικέα πήρην,\nπυκνὰ ῥωγαλέην· ἐν δὲ στρόφος ἦεν ἀορτήρ.\nτώ γʼ ὣς βουλεύσαντε διέτμαγεν. ἡ μὲν ἔπειτα\nἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν ἔβη μετὰ παῖδʼ Ὀδυσῆος.\n\n### Book 14\n\nαὐτὰρ ὁ ἐκ λιμένος προσέβη τρηχεῖαν ἀταρπὸν\nχῶρον ἀνʼ ὑλήεντα διʼ ἄκριας, ᾗ οἱ Ἀθήνη\nπέφραδε δῖον ὑφορβόν, ὅ οἱ βιότοιο μάλιστα\nκήδετο οἰκήων, οὓς κτήσατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nτὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἐνὶ προδόμῳ εὗρʼ ἥμενον, ἔνθα οἱ αὐλὴ\nὑψηλὴ δέδμητο, περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,\nκαλή τε μεγάλη τε, περίδρομος· ἥν ῥα συβώτης\nαὐτὸς δείμαθʼ ὕεσσιν ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος,\nνόσφιν δεσποίνης καὶ Λαέρταο γέροντος,\nῥυτοῖσιν λάεσσι καὶ ἐθρίγκωσεν ἀχέρδῳ·\nσταυροὺς δʼ ἐκτὸς ἔλασσε διαμπερὲς ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,\nπυκνοὺς καὶ θαμέας, τὸ μέλαν δρυὸς ἀμφικεάσσας·\nἔντοσθεν δʼ αὐλῆς συφεοὺς δυοκαίδεκα ποίει\nπλησίον ἀλλήλων, εὐνὰς συσίν· ἐν δὲ ἑκάστῳ\nπεντήκοντα σύες χαμαιευνάδες ἐρχατόωντο,\nθήλειαι τοκάδες· τοὶ δʼ ἄρσενες ἐκτὸς ἴαυον,\nπολλὸν παυρότεροι· τοὺς γὰρ μινύθεσκον ἔδοντες\nἀντίθεοι μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ προΐαλλε συβώτης\nαἰεὶ ζατρεφέων σιάλων τὸν ἄριστον ἁπάντων·\nοἱ δὲ τριηκόσιοί τε καὶ ἑξήκοντα πέλοντο.\nπὰρ δὲ κύνες, θήρεσσιν ἐοικότες αἰὲν ἴαυον\nτέσσαρες, οὓς ἔθρεψε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν.\nαὐτὸς δʼ ἀμφὶ πόδεσσιν ἑοῖς ἀράρισκε πέδιλα,\nτάμνων δέρμα βόειον ἐϋχροές· οἱ δὲ δὴ ἄλλοι\nᾤχοντʼ ἄλλυδις ἄλλος ἅμʼ ἀγρομένοισι σύεσσιν,\nοἱ τρεῖς· τὸν δὲ τέταρτον ἀποπροέηκε πόλινδε\nσῦν ἀγέμεν μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ἀνάγκῃ,\nὄφρʼ ἱερεύσαντες κρειῶν κορεσαίατο θυμόν.\nἐξαπίνης δʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἴδον κύνες ὑλακόμωροι.\nοἱ μὲν κεκλήγοντες ἐπέδραμον· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἕζετο κερδοσύνῃ, σκῆπτρον δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε χειρός.\nἔνθα κεν ᾧ πὰρ σταθμῷ ἀεικέλιον πάθεν ἄλγος·\nἀλλὰ συβώτης ὦκα ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι μετασπὼν\nἔσσυτʼ ἀνὰ πρόθυρον, σκῦτος δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε χειρός.\nτοὺς μὲν ὁμοκλήσας σεῦεν κύνας ἄλλυδις ἄλλον\nπυκνῇσιν λιθάδεσσιν· ὁ δὲ προσέειπεν ἄνακτα·\nὦ γέρον, ἦ ὀλίγου σε κύνες διεδηλήσαντο\nἐξαπίνης, καί κέν μοι ἐλεγχείην κατέχευας.\nκαὶ δέ μοι ἄλλα θεοὶ δόσαν ἄλγεά τε στοναχάς τε·\nἀντιθέου γὰρ ἄνακτος ὀδυρόμενος καὶ ἀχεύων\nἧμαι, ἄλλοισιν δὲ σύας σιάλους ἀτιτάλλω\nἔδμεναι· αὐτὰρ κεῖνος ἐελδόμενός που ἐδωδῆς\nπλάζετʼ ἐπʼ ἀλλοθρόων ἀνδρῶν δῆμόν τε πόλιν τε,\nεἴ που ἔτι ζώει καὶ ὁρᾷ φάος ἠελίοιο.\nἀλλʼ ἕπεο, κλισίηνδʼ ἴομεν, γέρον, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτός,\nσίτου καὶ οἴνοιο κορεσσάμενος κατὰ θυμόν,\nεἴπῃς ὁππόθεν ἐσσὶ καὶ ὁππόσα κήδεʼ ἀνέτλης.\nὣς εἰπὼν κλισίηνδʼ ἡγήσατο δῖος ὑφορβός,\nεἷσεν δʼ εἰσαγαγών, ῥῶπας δʼ ὑπέχευε δασείας,\nἐστόρεσεν δʼ ἐπὶ δέρμα ἰονθάδος ἀγρίου αἰγός,\nαὐτοῦ ἐνεύναιον, μέγα καὶ δασύ. χαῖρε δʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nὅττι μιν ὣς ὑπέδεκτο, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nΖεύς τοι δοίη, ξεῖνε, καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι\nὅττι μάλιστʼ ἐθέλεις, ὅτι με πρόφρων ὑπέδεξο.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nξεῖνʼ, οὔ μοι θέμις ἔστʼ, οὐδʼ εἰ κακίων σέθεν ἔλθοι,\nξεῖνον ἀτιμῆσαι· πρὸς γὰρ Διός εἰσιν ἅπαντες\nξεῖνοί τε πτωχοί τε· δόσις δʼ ὀλίγη τε φίλη τε\nγίγνεται ἡμετέρη· ἡ γὰρ δμώων δίκη ἐστὶν\nαἰεὶ δειδιότων, ὅτʼ ἐπικρατέωσιν ἄνακτες\nοἱ νέοι. ἦ γὰρ τοῦ γε θεοὶ κατὰ νόστον ἔδησαν,\nὅς κεν ἔμʼ ἐνδυκέως ἐφίλει καὶ κτῆσιν ὄπασσεν,\nοἶκόν τε κλῆρόν τε πολυμνήστην τε γυναῖκα,\nοἷά τε ᾧ οἰκῆϊ ἄναξ εὔθυμος ἔδωκεν,\nὅς οἱ πολλὰ κάμῃσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐπὶ ἔργον ἀέξῃ,\nὡς καὶ ἐμοὶ τόδε ἔργον ἀέξεται, ᾧ ἐπιμίμνω.\nτῷ κέ με πόλλʼ ὤνησεν ἄναξ, εἰ αὐτόθʼ ἐγήρα·\nἀλλʼ ὄλεθʼ—ὡς ὤφελλʼ Ἑλένης ἀπὸ φῦλον ὀλέσθαι\nπρόχνυ, ἐπεὶ πολλῶν ἀνδρῶν ὑπὸ γούνατʼ ἔλυσε·\nκαὶ γὰρ κεῖνος ἔβη Ἀγαμέμνονος εἵνεκα τιμῆς\nἼλιον εἰς εὔπωλον, ἵνα Τρώεσσι μάχοιτο.\nὣς εἰπὼν ζωστῆρι θοῶς συνέεργε χιτῶνα,\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐς συφεούς, ὅθι ἔθνεα ἔρχατο χοίρων.\nἔνθεν ἑλὼν δύʼ ἔνεικε καὶ ἀμφοτέρους ἱέρευσεν,\nεὗσέ τε μίστυλλέν τε καὶ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειρεν.\nὀπτήσας δʼ ἄρα πάντα φέρων παρέθηκʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ\nθέρμʼ αὐτοῖς ὀβελοῖσιν· ὁ δʼ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ πάλυνεν·\nἐν δʼ ἄρα κισσυβίῳ κίρνη μελιηδέα οἶνον,\nαὐτὸς δʼ ἀντίον ἷζεν, ἐποτρύνων δὲ προσηύδα·\nἔσθιε νῦν, ὦ ξεῖνε, τά τε δμώεσσι πάρεστι,\nχοίρεʼ· ἀτὰρ σιάλους γε σύας μνηστῆρες ἔδουσιν,\nοὐκ ὄπιδα φρονέοντες ἐνὶ φρεσὶν οὐδʼ ἐλεητύν.\nοὐ μὲν σχέτλια ἔργα θεοὶ μάκαρες φιλέουσιν,\nἀλλὰ δίκην τίουσι καὶ αἴσιμα ἔργʼ ἀνθρώπων.\nκαὶ μὲν δυσμενέες καὶ ἀνάρσιοι, οἵ τʼ ἐπὶ γαίης\nἀλλοτρίης βῶσιν καί σφι Ζεὺς ληΐδα δώῃ,\nπλησάμενοι δέ τε νῆας ἔβαν οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι,\nκαὶ μὲν τοῖς ὄπιδος κρατερὸν δέος ἐν φρεσὶ πίπτει.\nοἵδε δὲ καί τι ἴσασι, θεοῦ δέ τινʼ ἔκλυον αὐδήν,\nκείνου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον, ὅτʼ οὐκ ἐθέλουσι δικαίως\nμνᾶσθαι οὐδὲ νέεσθαι ἐπὶ σφέτερʼ, ἀλλὰ ἕκηλοι\nκτήματα δαρδάπτουσιν ὑπέρβιον, οὐδʼ ἔπι φειδώ.\nὅσσαι γὰρ νύκτες τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐκ Διός εἰσιν,\nοὔ ποθʼ ἓν ἱρεύουσʼ ἱερήϊον, οὐδὲ δύʼ οἴω·\nοἶνον δὲ φθινύθουσιν ὑπέρβιον ἐξαφύοντες.\nἦ γάρ οἱ ζωή γʼ ἦν ἄσπετος· οὔ τινι τόσση\nἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, οὔτʼ ἠπείροιο μελαίνης\nοὔτʼ αὐτῆς Ἰθάκης· οὐδὲ ξυνεείκοσι φωτῶν\nἔστʼ ἄφενος τοσσοῦτον· ἐγὼ δέ κέ τοι καταλέξω.\nδώδεκʼ ἐν ἠπείρῳ ἀγέλαι· τόσα πώεα οἰῶν,\nτόσσα συῶν συβόσια, τόσʼ αἰπόλια πλατέʼ αἰγῶν\nβόσκουσι ξεῖνοί τε καὶ αὐτοῦ βώτορες ἄνδρες.\nἐνθάδε δʼ αἰπόλια πλατέʼ αἰγῶν ἕνδεκα πάντα\nἐσχατιῇ βόσκοντʼ, ἐπὶ δʼ ἀνέρες ἐσθλοὶ ὄρονται.\nτῶν αἰεί σφιν ἕκαστος ἐπʼ ἤματι μῆλον ἀγινεῖ,\nζατρεφέων αἰγῶν ὅς τις φαίνηται ἄριστος.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σῦς τάσδε φυλάσσω τε ῥύομαί τε,\nκαί σφι συῶν τὸν ἄριστον ἐῢ κρίνας ἀποπέμπω.\nὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ ἐνδυκέως κρέα τʼ ἤσθιε πῖνέ τε οἶνον\nἁρπαλέως ἀκέων, κακὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσι φύτευεν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δείπνησε καὶ ἤραρε θυμὸν ἐδωδῇ,\nκαί οἱ πλησάμενος δῶκε σκύφον, ᾧ περ ἔπινεν,\nοἴνου ἐνίπλειον· ὁ δʼ ἐδέξατο, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nὦ φίλε, τίς γάρ σε πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν,\nὧδε μάλʼ ἀφνειὸς καὶ καρτερὸς ὡς ἀγορεύεις;\nφῆς δʼ αὐτὸν φθίσθαι Ἀγαμέμνονος εἵνεκα τιμῆς.\nεἰπέ μοι, αἴ κέ ποθι γνώω τοιοῦτον ἐόντα.\nΖεὺς γάρ που τό γε οἶδε καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι,\nεἴ κέ μιν ἀγγείλαιμι ἰδών· ἐπὶ πολλὰ δʼ ἀλήθην.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·\nὦ γέρον, οὔ τις κεῖνον ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν\nἀγγέλλων πείσειε γυναῖκά τε καὶ φίλον υἱόν,\nἀλλʼ ἄλλως κομιδῆς κεχρημένοι ἄνδρες ἀλῆται\nψεύδοντʼ, οὐδʼ ἐθέλουσιν ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι.\nὃς δέ κʼ ἀλητεύων Ἰθάκης ἐς δῆμον ἵκηται,\nἐλθὼν ἐς δέσποιναν ἐμὴν ἀπατήλια βάζει·\nἡ δʼ εὖ δεξαμένη φιλέει καὶ ἕκαστα μεταλλᾷ,\nκαί οἱ ὀδυρομένῃ βλεφάρων ἄπο δάκρυα πίπτει,\nἣ θέμις ἐστὶ γυναικός, ἐπὴν πόσις ἄλλοθʼ ὄληται.\nαἶψά κε καὶ σύ, γεραιέ, ἔπος παρατεκτήναιο.\nεἴ τίς τοι χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα δοίη.\nτοῦ δʼ ἤδη μέλλουσι κύνες ταχέες τʼ οἰωνοὶ\nῥινὸν ἀπʼ ὀστεόφιν ἐρύσαι, ψυχὴ δὲ λέλοιπεν·\nἢ τόν γʼ ἐν πόντῳ φάγον ἰχθύες, ὀστέα δʼ αὐτοῦ\nκεῖται ἐπʼ ἠπείρου ψαμάθῳ εἰλυμένα πολλῇ.\nὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθʼ ἀπόλωλε, φίλοισι δὲ κήδεʼ ὀπίσσω\nπᾶσιν, ἐμοὶ δὲ μάλιστα, τετεύχαται· οὐ γὰρ ἔτʼ ἄλλον\nἤπιον ὧδε ἄνακτα κιχήσομαι, ὁππόσʼ ἐπέλθω,\nοὐδʼ εἴ κεν πατρὸς καὶ μητέρος αὖτις ἵκωμαι\nοἶκον, ὅθι πρῶτον γενόμην καί μʼ ἔτρεφον αὐτοί.\nοὐδέ νυ τῶν ἔτι τόσσον ὀδύρομαι, ἱέμενός περ\nὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδέσθαι ἐὼν ἐν πατρίδι γαίῃ·\nἀλλά μʼ Ὀδυσσῆος πόθος αἴνυται οἰχομένοιο.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγών, ὦ ξεῖνε, καὶ οὐ παρεόντʼ ὀνομάζειν\nαἰδέομαι· πέρι γάρ μʼ ἐφίλει καὶ κήδετο θυμῷ·\nἀλλά μιν ἠθεῖον καλέω καὶ νόσφιν ἐόντα.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ φίλʼ, ἐπειδὴ πάμπαν ἀναίνεαι, οὐδʼ ἔτι φῇσθα\nκεῖνον ἐλεύσεσθαι, θυμὸς δέ τοι αἰὲν ἄπιστος·\nἀλλʼ ἐγὼ οὐκ αὔτως μυθήσομαι, ἀλλὰ σὺν ὅρκῳ,\nὡς νεῖται Ὀδυσεύς· εὐαγγέλιον δέ μοι ἔστω\nαὐτίκʼ, ἐπεί κεν κεῖνος ἰὼν τὰ ἃ δώμαθʼ ἵκηται·\nἕσσαι με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, εἵματα καλά·\nπρὶν δέ κε, καὶ μάλα περ κεχρημένος, οὔ τι δεχοίμην.\nἐχθρὸς γάρ μοι κεῖνος ὁμῶς Ἀΐδαο πύλῃσι\nγίγνεται, ὃς πενίῃ εἴκων ἀπατήλια βάζει.\nἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα θεῶν, ξενίη τε τράπεζα,\nἱστίη τʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ἣν ἀφικάνω·\nἦ μέν τοι τάδε πάντα τελείεται ὡς ἀγορεύω.\nτοῦδʼ αὐτοῦ λυκάβαντος ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.\nτοῦ μὲν φθίνοντος μηνός, τοῦ δʼ ἱσταμένοιο,\nοἴκαδε νοστήσει, καὶ τίσεται ὅς τις ἐκείνου\nἐνθάδʼ ἀτιμάζει ἄλοχον καὶ φαίδιμον υἱόν.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nὦ γέρον, οὔτʼ ἄρʼ ἐγὼν εὐαγγέλιον τόδε τίσω,\nοὔτʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔτι οἶκον ἐλεύσεται· ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος\nπῖνε, καὶ ἄλλα παρὲξ μεμνώμεθα, μηδέ με τούτων\nμίμνησκʼ· ἦ γὰρ θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐμοῖσιν\nἄχνυται, ὁππότε τις μνήσῃ κεδνοῖο ἄνακτος.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι ὅρκον μὲν ἐάσομεν, αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἔλθοι ὅπως μιν ἐγώ γʼ ἐθέλω καὶ Πηνελόπεια\nΛαέρτης θʼ ὁ γέρων καὶ Τηλέμαχος θεοειδής.\nνῦν αὖ παιδὸς ἄλαστον ὀδύρομαι, ὃν τέκʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nΤηλεμάχου· τὸν ἐπεὶ θρέψαν θεοὶ ἔρνεϊ ἶσον,\nκαί μιν ἔφην ἔσσεσθαι ἐν ἀνδράσιν οὔ τι χέρηα\nπατρὸς ἑοῖο φίλοιο, δέμας καὶ εἶδος ἀγητόν,\nτὸν δέ τις ἀθανάτων βλάψε φρένας ἔνδον ἐΐσας\nἠέ τις ἀνθρώπων· ὁ δʼ ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν\nἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην· τὸν δὲ μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοὶ\nοἴκαδʼ ἰόντα λοχῶσιν, ὅπως ἀπὸ φῦλον ὄληται\nνώνυμον ἐξ Ἰθάκης Ἀρκεισίου ἀντιθέοιο.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι κεῖνον μὲν ἐάσομεν, ἤ κεν ἁλώῃ\nἦ κε φύγῃ καί κέν οἱ ὑπέρσχῃ χεῖρα Κρονίων.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι σύ, γεραιέ, τὰ σʼ αὐτοῦ κήδεʼ ἐνίσπες\nκαί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ·\nτίς πόθεν εἶς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;\nὁπποίης τʼ ἐπὶ νηὸς ἀφίκεο· πῶς δέ σε ναῦται\nἤγαγον εἰς Ἰθάκην; τίνες ἔμμεναι εὐχετόωντο;\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τί σε πεζὸν ὀΐομαι ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.\nεἴη μὲν νῦν νῶϊν ἐπὶ χρόνον ἠμὲν ἐδωδὴ\nἠδὲ μέθυ γλυκερὸν κλισίης ἔντοσθεν ἐοῦσι,\nδαίνυσθαι ἀκέοντʼ, ἄλλοι δʼ ἐπὶ ἔργον ἕποιεν·\nῥηϊδίως κεν ἔπειτα καὶ εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν ἅπαντα\nοὔ τι διαπρήξαιμι λέγων ἐμὰ κήδεα θυμοῦ,\nὅσσα γε δὴ ξύμπαντα θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησα.\nἐκ μὲν Κρητάων γένος εὔχομαι εὐρειάων,\nἀνέρος ἀφνειοῖο πάϊς· πολλοὶ δὲ καὶ ἄλλοι\nυἱέες ἐν μεγάρῳ ἠμὲν τράφεν ἠδʼ ἐγένοντο\nγνήσιοι ἐξ ἀλόχου· ἐμὲ δʼ ὠνητὴ τέκε μήτηρ\nπαλλακίς, ἀλλά με ἶσον ἰθαιγενέεσσιν ἐτίμα\nΚάστωρ Ὑλακίδης, τοῦ ἐγὼ γένος εὔχομαι εἶναι\nὃς τότʼ ἐνὶ Κρήτεσσι θεὸς ὣς τίετο δήμῳ\nὄλβῳ τε πλούτῳ τε καὶ υἱάσι κυδαλίμοισιν.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι τὸν κῆρες ἔβαν θανάτοιο φέρουσαι\nεἰς Ἀΐδαο δόμους· τοὶ δὲ ζωὴν ἐδάσαντο\nπαῖδες ὑπέρθυμοι καὶ ἐπὶ κλήρους ἐβάλοντο,\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ μάλα παῦρα δόσαν καὶ οἰκίʼ ἔνειμαν.\nἠγαγόμην δὲ γυναῖκα πολυκλήρων ἀνθρώπων\nεἵνεκʼ ἐμῆς ἀρετῆς, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἀποφώλιος ἦα\nοὐδὲ φυγοπτόλεμος· νῦν δʼ ἤδη πάντα λέλοιπεν\nἀλλʼ ἔμπης καλάμην γέ σʼ ὀΐομαι εἰσορόωντα\nγιγνώσκειν· ἦ γάρ με δύη ἔχει ἤλιθα πολλή.\nἦ μὲν δὴ θάρσος μοι Ἄρης τʼ ἔδοσαν καὶ Ἀθήνη\nκαὶ ῥηξηνορίην· ὁπότε κρίνοιμι λόχονδε\nἄνδρας ἀριστῆας, κακὰ δυσμενέεσσι φυτεύων,\nοὔ ποτέ μοι θάνατον προτιόσσετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ,\nἀλλὰ πολὺ πρώτιστος ἐπάλμενος ἔγχει ἕλεσκον\nἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων ὅ τέ μοι εἴξειε πόδεσσιν.\nτοῖος ἔα ἐν πολέμῳ· ἔργον δέ μοι οὐ φίλον ἔσκεν\nοὐδʼ οἰκωφελίη, ἥ τε τρέφει ἀγλαὰ τέκνα,\nἀλλά μοι αἰεὶ νῆες ἐπήρετμοι φίλαι ἦσαν\nκαὶ πόλεμοι καὶ ἄκοντες ἐΰξεστοι καὶ ὀϊστοί,\nλυγρά, τά τʼ ἄλλοισίν γε καταριγηλὰ πέλονται.\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τὰ φίλʼ ἔσκε τά που θεὸς ἐν φρεσὶ θῆκεν·\nἄλλος γάρ τʼ ἄλλοισιν ἀνὴρ ἐπιτέρπεται ἔργοις.\nπρὶν μὲν γὰρ Τροίης ἐπιβήμεναι υἷας Ἀχαιῶν\nεἰνάκις ἀνδράσιν ἦρξα καὶ ὠκυπόροισι νέεσσιν\nἄνδρας ἐς ἀλλοδαπούς, καί μοι μάλα τύγχανε πολλά.\nτῶν ἐξαιρεύμην μενοεικέα, πολλὰ δʼ ὀπίσσω\nλάγχανον· αἶψα δὲ οἶκος ὀφέλλετο, καί ῥα ἔπειτα\nδεινός τʼ αἰδοῖός τε μετὰ Κρήτεσσι τετύγμην.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τήν γε στυγερὴν ὁδὸν εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς\nἐφράσαθʼ, ἣ πολλῶν ἀνδρῶν ὑπὸ γούνατʼ ἔλυσε,\nδὴ τότʼ ἔμʼ ἤνωγον καὶ ἀγακλυτὸν Ἰδομενῆα\nνήεσσʼ ἡγήσασθαι ἐς Ἴλιον· οὐδέ τι μῆχος\nἦεν ἀνήνασθαι, χαλεπὴ δʼ ἔχε δήμου φῆμις.\nἔνθα μὲν εἰνάετες πολεμίζομεν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,\nτῷ δεκάτῳ δὲ πόλιν Πριάμου πέρσαντες ἔβημεν\nοἴκαδε σὺν νήεσσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐκέδασσεν Ἀχαιούς.\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ δειλῷ κακὰ μήδετο μητίετα Ζεύς·\nμῆνα γὰρ οἶον ἔμεινα τεταρπόμενος τεκέεσσιν\nκουριδίῃ τʼ ἀλόχῳ καὶ κτήμασιν· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nΑἴγυπτόνδε με θυμὸς ἀνώγει ναυτίλλεσθαι,\nνῆας ἐῢ στείλαντα σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισιν.\nἐννέα νῆας στεῖλα, θοῶς δʼ ἐσαγείρατο λαός.\nἑξῆμαρ μὲν ἔπειτα ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι\nδαίνυντʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἱερήϊα πολλὰ παρεῖχον\nθεοῖσίν τε ῥέζειν αὐτοῖσί τε δαῖτα πένεσθαι.\nἑβδομάτῃ δʼ ἀναβάντες ἀπὸ Κρήτης εὐρείης\nἐπλέομεν Βορέῃ ἀνέμῳ ἀκραέϊ καλῷ\nῥηϊδίως, ὡς εἴ τε κατὰ ῥόον· οὐδέ τις οὖν μοι\nνηῶν πημάνθη, ἀλλʼ ἀσκηθέες καὶ ἄνουσοι\nἥμεθα, τὰς δʼ ἄνεμός τε κυβερνῆταί τʼ ἴθυνον.\nπεμπταῖοι δʼ Αἴγυπτον ἐϋρρείτην ἱκόμεσθα,\nστῆσα δʼ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ ποταμῷ νέας ἀμφιελίσσας.\nἔνθʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ κελόμην ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους\nαὐτοῦ πὰρ νήεσσι μένειν καὶ νῆας ἔρυσθαι,\nὀπτῆρας δὲ κατὰ σκοπιὰς ὤτρυνα νέεσθαι·\nοἱ δʼ ὕβρει εἴξαντες, ἐπισπόμενοι μένεϊ σφῷ,\nαἶψα μάλʼ Αἰγυπτίων ἀνδρῶν περικαλλέας ἀγροὺς\nπόρθεον, ἐκ δὲ γυναῖκας ἄγον καὶ νήπια τέκνα,\nαὐτούς τʼ ἔκτεινον· τάχα δʼ ἐς πόλιν ἵκετʼ ἀϋτή.\nοἱ δὲ βοῆς ἀΐοντες ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν\nἦλθον· πλῆτο δὲ πᾶν πεδίον πεζῶν τε καὶ ἵππων\nχαλκοῦ τε στεροπῆς· ἐν δὲ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος\nφύζαν ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισι κακὴν βάλεν, οὐδέ τις ἔτλη\nμεῖναι ἐναντίβιον· περὶ γὰρ κακὰ πάντοθεν ἔστη.\nἔνθʼ ἡμέων πολλοὺς μὲν ἀπέκτανον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,\nτοὺς δʼ ἄναγον ζωούς, σφίσιν ἐργάζεσθαι ἀνάγκῃ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ Ζεὺς αὐτὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ὧδε νόημα\nποίησʼ—ὡς ὄφελον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν\nαὐτοῦ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ· ἔτι γάρ νύ με πῆμʼ ὑπέδεκτο—\nαὐτίκʼ ἀπὸ κρατὸς κυνέην εὔτυκτον ἔθηκα\nκαὶ σάκος ὤμοιϊν, δόρυ δʼ ἔκβαλον ἔκτοσε χειρός·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ βασιλῆος ἐναντίον ἤλυθον ἵππων\nκαὶ κύσα γούναθʼ ἑλών· ὁδʼ ἐρύσατο καί μʼ ἐλέησεν,\nἐς δίφρον δέ μʼ ἕσας ἄγεν οἴκαδε δάκρυ χέοντα.\nἦ μέν μοι μάλα πολλοὶ ἐπήϊσσον μελίῃσιν,\nἱέμενοι κτεῖναι—δὴ γὰρ κεχολώατο λίην—\nἀλλʼ ἀπὸ κεῖνος ἔρυκε, Διὸς δʼ ὠπίζετο μῆνιν\nξεινίου, ὅς τε μάλιστα νεμεσσᾶται κακὰ ἔργα.\nἔνθα μὲν ἑπτάετες μένον αὐτόθι, πολλὰ δʼ ἄγειρα\nχρήματʼ ἀνʼ Αἰγυπτίους ἄνδρας· δίδοσαν γὰρ ἅπαντες.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ὄγδοόν μοι ἐπιπλόμενον ἔτος ἦλθεν,\nδὴ τότε Φοῖνιξ ἦλθεν ἀνὴρ ἀπατήλια εἰδώς,\nτρώκτης, ὃς δὴ πολλὰ κάκʼ ἀνθρώποισιν ἐώργει·\nὅς μʼ ἄγε παρπεπιθὼν ᾗσι φρεσίν, ὄφρʼ ἱκόμεσθα\nΦοινίκην, ὅθι τοῦ γε δόμοι καὶ κτήματʼ ἔκειτο.\nἔνθα παρʼ αὐτῷ μεῖνα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτόν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ μῆνές τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐξετελεῦντο\nἄψ περιτελλομένου ἔτεος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,\nἐς Λιβύην μʼ ἐπὶ νηὸς ἐέσσατο ποντοπόροιο\nψεύδεα βουλεύσας, ἵνα οἱ σὺν φόρτον ἄγοιμι,\nκεῖθι δέ μʼ ὡς περάσειε καὶ ἄσπετον ὦνον ἕλοιτο.\nτῷ ἑπόμην ἐπὶ νηός, ὀϊόμενός περ, ἀνάγκῃ.\nἡ δʼ ἔθεεν Βορέῃ ἀνέμῳ ἀκραέϊ καλῷ,\nμέσσον ὑπὲρ Κρήτης· Ζεὺς δέ σφισι μήδετʼ ὄλεθρον.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ Κρήτην μὲν ἐλείπομεν, οὐδέ τις ἄλλη\nφαίνετο γαιάων, ἀλλʼ οὐρανὸς ἠδὲ θάλασσα,\nδὴ τότε κυανέην νεφέλην ἔστησε Κρονίων\nνηὸς ὕπερ γλαφυρῆς, ἤχλυσε δὲ πόντος ὑπʼ αὐτῆς.\nΖεὺς δʼ ἄμυδις βρόντησε καὶ ἔμβαλε νηῒ κεραυνόν·\nἡ δʼ ἐλελίχθη πᾶσα Διὸς πληγεῖσα κεραυνῷ,\nἐν δὲ θεείου πλῆτο· πέσον δʼ ἐκ νηὸς ἅπαντες.\nοἱ δὲ κορώνῃσιν ἴκελοι περὶ νῆα μέλαιναν\nκύμασιν ἐμφορέοντο· θεὸς δʼ ἀποαίνυτο νόστον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ Ζεὺς αὐτός, ἔχοντί περ ἄλγεα θυμῷ,\nἱστὸν ἀμαιμάκετον νηὸς κυανοπρῴροιο\nἐν χείρεσσιν ἔθηκεν, ὅπως ἔτι πῆμα φύγοιμι.\nτῷ ῥα περιπλεχθεὶς φερόμην ὀλοοῖς ἀνέμοισιν.\nἐννῆμαρ φερόμην, δεκάτῃ δέ με νυκτὶ μελαίνῃ\nγαίῃ Θεσπρωτῶν πέλασεν μέγα κῦμα κυλίνδον.\nἔνθα με Θεσπρωτῶν βασιλεὺς ἐκομίσσατο Φείδων\nἥρως ἀπριάτην· τοῦ γὰρ φίλος υἱὸς ἐπελθὼν\nαἴθρῳ καὶ καμάτῳ δεδμημένον ἦγεν ἐς οἶκον,\nχειρὸς ἀναστήσας, ὄφρʼ ἵκετο δώματα πατρός·\nἀμφὶ δέ με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα ἕσσεν.\nἔνθʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐγὼ πυθόμην· κεῖνος γὰρ ἔφασκε\nξεινίσαι ἠδὲ φιλῆσαι ἰόντʼ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nκαί μοι κτήματʼ ἔδειξεν ὅσα ξυναγείρατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nχαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε πολύκμητόν τε σίδηρον.\nκαί νύ κεν ἐς δεκάτην γενεὴν ἕτερόν γʼ ἔτι βόσκοι·\nτόσσα οἱ ἐν μεγάροις κειμήλια κεῖτο ἄνακτος.\nτὸν δʼ ἐς Δωδώνην φάτο βήμεναι, ὄφρα θεοῖο\nἐκ δρυὸς ὑψικόμοιο Διὸς βουλὴν ἐπακούσαι,\nὅππως νοστήσειʼ Ἰθάκης ἐς πίονα δῆμον\nἤδη δὴν ἀπεών, ἢ ἀμφαδὸν ἦε κρυφηδόν.\nὤμοσε δὲ πρὸς ἔμʼ αὐτόν, ἀποσπένδων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nνῆα κατειρύσθαι καὶ ἐπαρτέας ἔμμεν ἑταίρους,\nοἳ δή μιν πέμψουσι φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nἀλλʼ ἐμὲ πρὶν ἀπέπεμψε· τύχησε γὰρ ἐρχομένη νηῦς\nἀνδρῶν Θεσπρωτῶν ἐς Δουλίχιον πολύπυρον.\nἔνθʼ ὅ γέ μʼ ἠνώγει πέμψαι βασιλῆϊ Ἀκάστῳ\nἐνδυκέως· τοῖσιν δὲ κακὴ φρεσὶν ἥνδανε βουλὴ\nἀμφʼ ἐμοί, ὄφρʼ ἔτι πάγχυ δύης ἐπὶ πῆμα γενοίμην.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε γαίης πολλὸν ἀπέπλω ποντοπόρος νηῦς,\nαὐτίκα δούλιον ἦμαρ ἐμοὶ περιμηχανόωντο.\nἐκ μέν με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἔδυσαν,\nἀμφὶ δέ μοι ῥάκος ἄλλο κακὸν βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,\nῥωγαλέα, τὰ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὅρηαι·\nἑσπέριοι δʼ Ἰθάκης εὐδειέλου ἔργʼ ἀφίκοντο.\nἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν κατέδησαν ἐϋσσέλμῳ ἐνὶ νηῒ\nὅπλῳ ἐϋστρεφέϊ στερεῶς, αὐτοὶ δʼ ἀποβάντες\nἐσσυμένως παρὰ θῖνα θαλάσσης δόρπον ἕλοντο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ δεσμὸν μὲν ἀνέγναμψαν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ\nῥηϊδίως· κεφαλῇ δὲ κατὰ ῥάκος ἀμφικαλύψας,\nξεστὸν ἐφόλκαιον καταβὰς ἐπέλασσα θαλάσσῃ\nστῆθος, ἔπειτα δὲ χερσὶ διήρεσσʼ ἀμφοτέρῃσι\nνηχόμενος, μάλα δʼ ὦκα θύρηθʼ ἔα ἀμφὶς ἐκείνων.\nἔνθʼ ἀναβάς, ὅθι τε δρίος ἦν πολυανθέος ὕλης,\nκείμην πεπτηώς. οἱ δὲ μεγάλα στενάχοντες\nφοίτων· ἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ σφιν ἐφαίνετο κέρδιον εἶναι\nμαίεσθαι προτέρω, τοὶ μὲν πάλιν αὖτις ἔβαινον\nνηὸς ἔπι γλαφυρῆς· ἐμὲ δʼ ἔκρυψαν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ\nῥηϊδίως, καί με σταθμῷ ἐπέλασσαν ἄγοντες\nἀνδρὸς ἐπισταμένου· ἔτι γάρ νύ μοι αἶσα βιῶναι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nἆ δειλὲ ξείνων, ἦ μοι μάλα θυμὸν ὄρινας\nταῦτα ἕκαστα λέγων, ὅσα δὴ πάθες ἠδʼ ὅσʼ ἀλήθης.\nἀλλὰ τά γʼ οὐ κατὰ κόσμον ὀΐομαι, οὐδέ με πείσεις\nεἰπὼν ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ· τί σε χρὴ τοῖον ἐόντα\nμαψιδίως ψεύδεσθαι; ἐγὼ δʼ εὖ οἶδα καὶ αὐτὸς\nνόστον ἐμοῖο ἄνακτος, ὅ τʼ ἤχθετο πᾶσι θεοῖσι\nπάγχυ μάλʼ, ὅττι μιν οὔ τι μετὰ Τρώεσσι δάμασσαν\nἠὲ φίλων ἐν χερσίν, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσε.\nτῷ κέν οἱ τύμβον μὲν ἐποίησαν Παναχαιοί,\nἠδέ κε καὶ ᾧ παιδὶ μέγα κλέος ἤρατʼ ὀπίσσω\nνῦν δέ μιν ἀκλειῶς ἅρπυιαι ἀνηρείψαντο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ παρʼ ὕεσσιν ἀπότροπος· οὐδὲ πόλινδε\nἔρχομαι, εἰ μή πού τι περίφρων Πηνελόπεια\nἐλθέμεν ὀτρύνῃσιν, ὅτʼ ἀγγελίη ποθὲν ἔλθῃ.\nἀλλʼ οἱ μὲν τὰ ἕκαστα παρήμενοι ἐξερέουσιν,\nἠμὲν οἳ ἄχνυνται δὴν οἰχομένοιο ἄνακτος,\nἠδʼ οἳ χαίρουσιν βίοτον νήποινον ἔδοντες·\nἀλλʼ ἐμοὶ οὐ φίλον ἐστὶ μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι,\nἐξ οὗ δή μʼ Αἰτωλὸς ἀνὴρ ἐξήπαφε μύθῳ,\nὅς ῥʼ ἄνδρα κτείνας, πολλὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἀληθείς,\nἦλθεν ἐμὰ πρὸς δώματʼ· ἐγὼ δέ μιν ἀμφαγάπαζον.\nφῆ δέ μιν ἐν Κρήτεσσι παρʼ Ἰδομενῆϊ ἰδέσθαι\nνῆας ἀκειόμενον, τάς οἱ ξυνέαξαν ἄελλαι·\nκαὶ φάτʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι ἢ ἐς θέρος ἢ ἐς ὀπώρην,\nπολλὰ χρήματʼ ἄγοντα, σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισι.\nκαὶ σύ, γέρον πολυπενθές, ἐπεί σέ μοι ἤγαγε δαίμων,\nμήτε τί μοι ψεύδεσσι χαρίζεο μήτε τι θέλγε·\nοὐ γὰρ τοὔνεκʼ ἐγώ σʼ αἰδέσσομαι οὐδὲ φιλήσω,\nἀλλὰ Δία ξένιον δείσας αὐτόν τʼ ἐλεαίρων.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς\nἦ μάλα τίς τοι θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἄπιστος,\nοἷόν σʼ οὐδʼ ὀμόσας περ ἐπήγαγον οὐδέ σε πείθω.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ῥήτρην ποιησόμεθʼ· αὐτὰρ ὄπισθε\nμάρτυροι ἀμφοτέροισι θεοί, τοὶ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν.\nεἰ μέν κεν νοστήσῃ ἄναξ τεὸς ἐς τόδε δῶμα,\nἕσσας με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα πέμψαι\nΔουλίχιόνδʼ ἰέναι, ὅθι μοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ·\nεἰ δέ κε μὴ ἔλθῃσιν ἄναξ τεὸς ὡς ἀγορεύω,\nδμῶας ἐπισσεύας βαλέειν μεγάλης κατὰ πέτρης,\nὄφρα καὶ ἄλλος πτωχὸς ἀλεύεται ἠπεροπεύειν.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσεφώνεε δῖος ὑφορβός·\nξεῖνʼ, οὕτω γάρ κέν μοι ἐϋκλείη τʼ ἀρετή τε\nεἴη ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους ἅμα τʼ αὐτίκα καὶ μετέπειτα,\nὅς σʼ ἐπεὶ ἐς κλισίην ἄγαγον καὶ ξείνια δῶκα,\nαὖτις δὲ κτείναιμι φίλον τʼ ἀπὸ θυμὸν ἑλοίμην·\nπρόφρων κεν δὴ ἔπειτα Δία Κρονίωνα λιτοίμην.\nνῦν δʼ ὥρη δόρποιο· τάχιστά μοι ἔνδον ἑταῖροι\nεἶεν, ἵνʼ ἐν κλισίῃ λαρὸν τετυκοίμεθα δόρπον.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nἀγχίμολον δὲ σύες τε καὶ ἀνέρες ἦλθον ὑφορβοί.\nτὰς μὲν ἄρα ἔρξαν κατὰ ἤθεα κοιμηθῆναι,\nκλαγγὴ δʼ ἄσπετος ὦρτο συῶν αὐλιζομενάων\nαὐτὰρ ὁ οἷς ἑτάροισιν ἐκέκλετο δῖος ὑφορβός·\nἄξεθʼ ὑῶν τὸν ἄριστον, ἵνα ξείνῳ ἱερεύσω\nτηλεδαπῷ· πρὸς δʼ αὐτοὶ ὀνησόμεθʼ, οἵ περ ὀϊζὺν\nδὴν ἔχομεν πάσχοντες ὑῶν ἕνεκʼ ἀργιοδόντων·\nἄλλοι δʼ ἡμέτερον κάματον νήποινον ἔδουσιν.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας κέασε ξύλα νηλέϊ χαλκῷ,\nοἱ δʼ ὗν εἰσῆγον μάλα πίονα πενταέτηρον.\nτὸν μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἔστησαν ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ· οὐδὲ συβώτης\nλήθετʼ ἄρʼ ἀθανάτων· φρεσὶ γὰρ κέχρητʼ ἀγαθῇσιν·\nἀλλʼ ὅγʼ ἀπαρχόμενος κεφαλῆς τρίχας ἐν πυρὶ βάλλεν\nἀργιόδοντος ὑός, καὶ ἐπεύχετο πᾶσι θεοῖσιν\nνοστῆσαι Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε.\nκόψε δʼ ἀνασχόμενος σχίζῃ δρυός, ἣν λίπε κείων·\nτὸν δʼ ἔλιπε ψυχή. τοὶ δʼ ἔσφαξάν τε καὶ εὗσαν·\nαἶψα δέ μιν διέχευαν· ὁ δʼ ὠμοθετεῖτο συβώτης,\nπάντων ἀρχόμενος μελέων, ἐς πίονα δημόν,\nκαὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν πυρὶ βάλλε, παλύνας ἀλφίτου ἀκτῇ,\nμίστυλλόν τʼ ἄρα τἆλλα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειραν,\nὤπτησάν τε περιφραδέως ἐρύσαντό τε πάντα,\nβάλλον δʼ εἰν ἐλεοῖσιν ἀολλέα· ἂν δὲ συβώτης\nἵστατο δαιτρεύσων· περὶ γὰρ φρεσὶν αἴσιμα ᾔδη.\nκαὶ τὰ μὲν ἕπταχα πάντα διεμοιρᾶτο δαΐζων·\nτὴν μὲν ἴαν νύμφῃσι καὶ Ἑρμῇ, Μαιάδος υἱεῖ,\nθῆκεν ἐπευξάμενος, τὰς δʼ ἄλλας νεῖμεν ἑκάστῳ·\nνώτοισιν δʼ Ὀδυσῆα διηνεκέεσσι γέραιρεν\nἀργιόδοντος ὑός, κύδαινε δὲ θυμὸν ἄνακτος·\nκαί μιν φωνήσας προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nαἴθʼ οὕτως, Εὔμαιε, φίλος Διὶ πατρὶ γένοιο\nὡς ἐμοί, ὅττι τε τοῖον ἐόντʼ ἀγαθοῖσι γεραίρεις.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nἔσθιε, δαιμόνιε ξείνων, καὶ τέρπεο τοῖσδε,\nοἷα πάρεστι· θεὸς δὲ τὸ μὲν δώσει, τὸ δʼ ἐάσει,\nὅττι κεν ᾧ θυμῷ ἐθέλῃ· δύναται γὰρ ἅπαντα.\nἦ ῥα καὶ ἄργματα θῦσε θεοῖς αἰειγενέτῃσι,\nσπείσας δʼ αἴθοπα οἶνον Ὀδυσσῆϊ πτολιπόρθῳ\nἐν χείρεσσιν ἔθηκεν· ὁ δʼ ἕζετο ᾗ παρὰ μοίρῃ.\nσῖτον δέ σφιν ἔνειμε Μεσαύλιος, ὅν ῥα συβώτης\nαὐτὸς κτήσατο οἶος ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος,\nνόσφιν δεσποίνης καὶ Λαέρταο γέροντος·\nπὰρ δʼ ἄρα μιν Ταφίων πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nσῖτον μέν σφιν ἀφεῖλε Μεσαύλιος, οἱ δʼ ἐπὶ κοῖτον\nσίτου καὶ κρειῶν κεκορημένοι ἐσσεύοντο.\nνὺξ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπῆλθε κακὴ σκοτομήνιος, ὗε δʼ ἄρα Ζεὺς\nπάννυχος, αὐτὰρ ἄη Ζέφυρος μέγας αἰὲν ἔφυδρος.\nτοῖς δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς μετέειπε, συβώτεω πειρητίζων,\nεἴ πώς οἱ ἐκδὺς χλαῖναν πόροι, ἤ τινʼ ἑταίρων\nἄλλον ἐποτρύνειεν, ἐπεί ἑο κήδετο λίην·\nκέκλυθι νῦν, Εὔμαιε καὶ ἄλλοι πάντες ἑταῖροι,\nεὐξάμενός τι ἔπος ἐρέω· οἶνος γὰρ ἀνώγει\nἠλεός, ὅς τʼ ἐφέηκε πολύφρονά περ μάλʼ ἀεῖσαι\nκαί θʼ ἁπαλὸν γελάσαι, καί τʼ ὀρχήσασθαι ἀνῆκε,\nκαί τι ἔπος προέηκεν ὅ περ τʼ ἄρρητον ἄμεινον.\nἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν τὸ πρῶτον ἀνέκραγον, οὐκ ἐπικεύσω.\nεἴθʼ ὣς ἡβώοιμι βίη τέ μοι ἔμπεδος εἴη,\nὡς ὅθʼ ὑπὸ Τροίην λόχον ἤγομεν ἀρτύναντες.\nἡγείσθην δʼ Ὀδυσεύς τε καὶ Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος,\nτοῖσι δʼ ἅμα τρίτος ἄρχον ἐγών· αὐτοὶ γὰρ ἄνωγον.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἱκόμεσθα ποτὶ πτόλιν αἰπύ τε τεῖχος,\nἡμεῖς μὲν περὶ ἄστυ κατὰ ῥωπήϊα πυκνά,\nἂν δόνακας καὶ ἕλος, ὑπὸ τεύχεσι πεπτηῶτες\nκείμεθα. νὺξ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπῆλθε κακὴ Βορέαο πεσόντος,\nπηγυλίς· αὐτὰρ ὕπερθε χιὼν γένετʼ ἠΰτε πάχνη,\nψυχρή, καὶ σακέεσσι περιτρέφετο κρύσταλλος.\nἔνθʼ ἄλλοι πάντες χλαίνας ἔχον ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,\nεὗδον δʼ εὔκηλοι, σάκεσιν εἰλυμένοι ὤμους·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ χλαῖναν μὲν ἰὼν ἑτάροισιν ἔλειπον\nἀφραδίῃς, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἐφάμην ῥιγωσέμεν ἔμπης,\nἀλλʼ ἑπόμην σάκος οἶον ἔχων καὶ ζῶμα φαεινόν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τρίχα νυκτὸς ἔην, μετὰ δʼ ἄστρα βεβήκει,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν Ὀδυσῆα προσηύδων ἐγγὺς ἐόντα\nἀγκῶνι νύξας· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐμμαπέως ὑπάκουσε·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nοὔ τοι ἔτι ζωοῖσι μετέσσομαι, ἀλλά με χεῖμα\nδάμναται· οὐ γὰρ ἔχω χλαῖναν· παρά μʼ ἤπαφε δαίμων\nοἰοχίτωνʼ ἔμεναι· νῦν δʼ οὐκέτι φυκτὰ πέλονται.\nὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα νόον σχέθε τόνδʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,\nοἷος κεῖνος ἔην βουλευέμεν ἠδὲ μάχεσθαι·\nφθεγξάμενος δʼ ὀλίγῃ ὀπί με πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·\nσίγα νῦν, μή τίς σευ Ἀχαιῶν ἄλλος ἀκούσῃ.\nἦ καὶ ἐπʼ ἀγκῶνος κεφαλὴν σχέθεν εἶπέ τε μῦθον·\nκλῦτε, φίλοι· θεῖός μοι ἐνύπνιον ἦλθεν ὄνειρος.\nλίην γὰρ νηῶν ἑκὰς ἤλθομεν· ἀλλά τις εἴη\nεἰπεῖν Ἀτρεΐδῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι, ποιμένι λαῶν,\nεἰ πλέονας παρὰ ναῦφιν ἐποτρύνειε νέεσθαι.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, ὦρτο δʼ ἔπειτα Θόας, Ἀνδραίμονος υἱός,\nκαρπαλίμως, ἀπὸ δὲ χλαῖναν θέτο φοινικόεσσαν,\nβῆ δὲ θέειν ἐπὶ νῆας· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐνὶ εἵματι κείνου\nκείμην ἀσπασίως, φάε δὲ χρυσόθρονος Ἠώς.\nὣς νῦν ἡβώοιμι βίη τέ μοι ἔμπεδος εἴη·\nδοίη κέν τις χλαῖναν ἐνὶ σταθμοῖσι συφορβῶν,\nἀμφότερον, φιλότητι καὶ αἰδοῖ φωτὸς ἑῆος·\nνῦν δέ μʼ ἀτιμάζουσι κακὰ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nὦ γέρον, αἶνος μέν τοι ἀμύμων, ὃν κατέλεξας,\nοὐδέ τί πω παρὰ μοῖραν ἔπος νηκερδὲς ἔειπες·\nτῷ οὔτʼ ἐσθῆτος δευήσεαι οὔτε τευ ἄλλου,\nὧν ἐπέοιχʼ ἱκέτην ταλαπείριον ἀντιάσαντα,\nνῦν· ἀτὰρ ἠῶθέν γε τὰ σὰ ῥάκεα δνοπαλίξεις.\nοὐ γὰρ πολλαὶ χλαῖναι ἐπημοιβοί τε χιτῶνες\nἐνθάδε ἕννυσθαι, μία δʼ οἴη φωτὶ ἑκάστῳ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ἔλθῃσιν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός,\nαὐτός τοι χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα δώσει,\nπέμψει δʼ ὅππῃ σε κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἀνόρουσε, τίθει δʼ ἄρα οἱ πυρὸς ἐγγὺς\nεὐνήν, ἐν δʼ ὀΐων τε καὶ αἰγῶν δέρματʼ ἔβαλλεν.\nἔνθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατέλεκτʼ· ἐπὶ δὲ χλαῖναν βάλεν αὐτῷ\nπυκνὴν καὶ μεγάλην, ἥ οἱ παρεκέσκετʼ ἀμοιβάς,\nἕννυσθαι ὅτε τις χειμὼν ἔκπαγλος ὄροιτο.\nὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κοιμήσατο, τοὶ δὲ παρʼ αὐτὸν\nἄνδρες κοιμήσαντο νεηνίαι· οὐδὲ συβώτῃ\nἥνδανεν αὐτόθι κοῖτος, ὑῶν ἄπο κοιμηθῆναι,\nἀλλʼ ὅ γʼ ἄρʼ ἔξω ἰὼν ὡπλίζετο· χαῖρε δʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nὅττι ῥά οἱ βιότου περικήδετο νόσφιν ἐόντος.\nπρῶτον μὲν ξίφος ὀξὺ περὶ στιβαροῖς βάλετʼ ὤμοις,\nἀμφὶ δὲ χλαῖναν ἑέσσατʼ ἀλεξάνεμον, μάλα πυκνήν,\nἂν δὲ νάκην ἕλετʼ αἰγὸς ἐϋτρεφέος μεγάλοιο,\nεἵλετο δʼ ὀξὺν ἄκοντα, κυνῶν ἀλκτῆρα καὶ ἀνδρῶν.\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεναι κείων ὅθι περ σύες ἀργιόδοντες\nπέτρῃ ὕπο γλαφυρῇ εὗδον, Βορέω ὑπʼ ἰωγῇ.\n\n### Book 15\n\nἡ δʼ εἰς εὐρύχορον Λακεδαίμονα Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη\nᾤχετʼ, Ὀδυσσῆος μεγαθύμου φαίδιμον υἱὸν\nνόστου ὑπομνήσουσα καὶ ὀτρυνέουσα νέεσθαι.\nεὗρε δὲ Τηλέμαχον καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸν υἱὸν\nεὕδοντʼ ἐν προδόμῳ Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο,\nἦ τοι Νεστορίδην μαλακῷ δεδμημένον ὕπνῳ·\nΤηλέμαχον δʼ οὐχ ὕπνος ἔχε γλυκύς, ἀλλʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nνύκτα διʼ ἀμβροσίην μελεδήματα πατρὸς ἔγειρεν.\nἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱσταμένη προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, οὐκέτι καλὰ δόμων ἄπο τῆλʼ ἀλάλησαι,\nκτήματά τε προλιπὼν ἄνδρας τʼ ἐν σοῖσι δόμοισιν\nοὕτω ὑπερφιάλους· μή τοι κατὰ πάντα φάγωσι\nκτήματα δασσάμενοι, σὺ δὲ τηϋσίην ὁδὸν ἔλθῃς.\nἀλλʼ ὄτρυνε τάχιστα βοὴν ἀγαθὸν Μενέλαον\nπεμπέμεν, ὄφρʼ ἔτι οἴκοι ἀμύμονα μητέρα τέτμῃς.\nἤδη γάρ ῥα πατήρ τε κασίγνητοί τε κέλονται\nΕὐρυμάχῳ γήμασθαι· ὁ γὰρ περιβάλλει ἅπαντας\nμνηστῆρας δώροισι καὶ ἐξώφελλεν ἔεδνα·\nμή νύ τι σεῦ ἀέκητι δόμων ἐκ κτῆμα φέρηται.\nοἶσθα γὰρ οἷος θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι γυναικός·\nκείνου βούλεται οἶκον ὀφέλλειν ὅς κεν ὀπυίῃ,\nπαίδων δὲ προτέρων καὶ κουριδίοιο φίλοιο\nοὐκέτι μέμνηται τεθνηκότος οὐδὲ μεταλλᾷ.\nἀλλὰ σύ γʼ ἐλθὼν αὐτὸς ἐπιτρέψειας ἕκαστα\nδμῳάων ἥ τίς τοι ἀρίστη φαίνεται εἶναι,\nεἰς ὅ κέ τοι φήνωσι θεοὶ κυδρὴν παράκοιτιν.\nἄλλο δέ τοί τι ἔπος ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο θυμῷ.\nμνηστήρων σʼ ἐπιτηδὲς ἀριστῆες λοχόωσιν\nἐν πορθμῷ Ἰθάκης τε Σάμοιό τε παιπαλοέσσης.\nἱέμενοι κτεῖναι, πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.\nἀλλὰ τά γʼ οὐκ ὀΐω· πρὶν καί τινα γαῖα καθέξει\nἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν.\nἀλλὰ ἑκὰς νήσων ἀπέχειν εὐεργέα νῆα,\nνυκτὶ δʼ ὁμῶς πλείειν· πέμψει δέ τοι οὖρον ὄπισθεν\nἀθανάτων ὅς τίς σε φυλάσσει τε ῥύεταί τε.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν πρώτην ἀκτὴν Ἰθάκης ἀφίκηαι,\nνῆα μὲν ἐς πόλιν ὀτρῦναι καὶ πάντας ἑταίρους,\nαὐτὸς δὲ πρώτιστα συβώτην εἰσαφικέσθαι,\nὅς τοι ὑῶν ἐπίουρος, ὁμῶς δέ τοι ἤπια οἶδεν.\nἔνθα δὲ νύκτʼ ἀέσαι· τὸν δʼ ὀτρῦναι πόλιν εἴσω\nἀγγελίην ἐρέοντα περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,\nοὕνεκά οἱ σῶς ἐσσὶ καὶ ἐκ Πύλου εἰλήλουθας.\nἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀπέβη πρὸς μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον,\nαὐτὰρ ὁ Νεστορίδην ἐξ ἡδέος ὕπνου ἔγειρεν\nλὰξ ποδὶ κινήσας, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·\nἔγρεο, Νεστορίδη Πεισίστρατε, μώνυχας ἵππους\nζεῦξον ὑφʼ ἅρματʼ ἄγων, ὄφρα πρήσσωμεν ὁδοῖο.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, οὔ πως ἔστιν ἐπειγομένους περ ὁδοῖο\nνύκτα διὰ δνοφερὴν ἐλάαν· τάχα δʼ ἔσσεται ἠώς.\nἀλλὰ μένʼ εἰς ὅ κε δῶρα φέρων ἐπιδίφρια θήῃ\nἥρως Ἀτρείδης, δουρικλειτὸς Μενέλαος,\nκαὶ μύθοις ἀγανοῖσι παραυδήσας ἀποπέμψῃ.\nτοῦ γάρ τε ξεῖνος μιμνήσκεται ἤματα πάντα\nἀνδρὸς ξεινοδόκου, ὅς κεν φιλότητα παράσχῃ.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτίκα δὲ χρυσόθρονος ἤλυθεν Ἠώς.\nἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος,\nἀνστὰς ἐξ εὐνῆς, Ἑλένης πάρα καλλικόμοιο.\nτὸν δʼ ὡς οὖν ἐνόησεν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός,\nσπερχόμενός ῥα χιτῶνα περὶ χροῒ σιγαλόεντα\nδῦνεν, καὶ μέγα φᾶρος ἐπὶ στιβαροῖς βάλετʼ ὤμοις\nἥρως, βῆ δὲ θύραζε, παριστάμενος δὲ προσηύδα\nΤηλέμαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο·\nἈτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,\nἤδη νῦν μʼ ἀπόπεμπε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·\nἤδη γάρ μοι θυμὸς ἐέλδεται οἴκαδʼ ἱκέσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, οὔ τί σʼ ἐγώ γε πολὺν χρόνον ἐνθάδʼ ἐρύξω\nἱέμενον νόστοιο· νεμεσσῶμαι δὲ καὶ ἄλλῳ\nἀνδρὶ ξεινοδόκῳ, ὅς κʼ ἔξοχα μὲν φιλέῃσιν,\nἔξοχα δʼ ἐχθαίρῃσιν· ἀμείνω δʼ αἴσιμα πάντα.\nἶσόν τοι κακόν ἐσθʼ, ὅς τʼ οὐκ ἐθέλοντα νέεσθαι\nξεῖνον ἐποτρύνει καὶ ὃς ἐσσύμενον κατερύκει.\nχρὴ ξεῖνον παρεόντα φιλεῖν, ἐθέλοντα δὲ πέμπειν.\nἀλλὰ μένʼ εἰς ὅ κε δῶρα φέρων ἐπιδίφρια θείω\nκαλά, σὺ δʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδῃς, εἴπω δὲ γυναιξὶ\nδεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροις τετυκεῖν ἅλις ἔνδον ἐόντων.\nἀμφότερον, κῦδός τε καὶ ἀγλαΐη καὶ ὄνειαρ,\nδειπνήσαντας ἴμεν πολλὴν ἐπʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν.\nεἰ δʼ ἐθέλεις τραφθῆναι ἀνʼ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος,\nὄφρα τοι αὐτὸς ἕπωμαι, ὑποζεύξω δέ τοι ἵππους,\nἄστεα δʼ ἀνθρώπων ἡγήσομαι· οὐδέ τις ἡμέας\nαὔτως ἀππέμψει, δώσει δέ τι ἕν γε φέρεσθαι,\nἠέ τινα τριπόδων εὐχάλκων ἠὲ λεβήτων,\nἠὲ δύʼ ἡμιόνους ἠὲ χρύσειον ἄλεισον.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἈτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,\nβούλομαι ἤδη νεῖσθαι ἐφʼ ἡμέτερʼ· οὐ γὰρ ὄπισθεν\nοὖρον ἰὼν κατέλειπον ἐπὶ κτεάτεσσιν ἐμοῖσιν·\nμὴ πατέρʼ ἀντίθεον διζήμενος αὐτὸς ὄλωμαι,\nἤ τί μοι ἐκ μεγάρων κειμήλιον ἐσθλὸν ὄληται.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος,\nαὐτίκʼ ἄρʼ ᾗ ἀλόχῳ ἠδὲ δμῳῇσι κέλευσε\nδεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροις τετυκεῖν ἅλις ἔνδον ἐόντων.\nἀγχίμολον δέ οἱ ἦλθε Βοηθοΐδης Ἐτεωνεύς,\nἀνστὰς ἐξ εὐνῆς, ἐπεὶ οὐ πολὺ ναῖεν ἀπʼ αὐτοῦ·\nτὸν πῦρ κῆαι ἄνωγε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος\nὀπτῆσαί τε κρεῶν· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ οὐκ ἀπίθησεν ἀκούσας.\nαὐτὸς δʼ ἐς θάλαμον κατεβήσετο κηώεντα,\nοὐκ οἶος, ἅμα τῷ γʼ Ἑλένη κίε καὶ Μεγαπένθης.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἵκανον ὅθι κειμήλια κεῖτο,\nἈτρεΐδης μὲν ἔπειτα δέπας λάβεν ἀμφικύπελλον,\nυἱὸν δὲ κρητῆρα φέρειν Μεγαπένθεʼ ἄνωγεν\nἀργύρεον· Ἑλένη δὲ παρίστατο φωριαμοῖσιν,\nἔνθʼ ἔσαν οἱ πέπλοι παμποίκιλοι, οὓς κάμεν αὐτή.\nτῶν ἕνʼ ἀειραμένη Ἑλένη φέρε, δῖα γυναικῶν,\nὃς κάλλιστος ἔην ποικίλμασιν ἠδὲ μέγιστος,\nἀστὴρ δʼ ὣς ἀπέλαμπεν· ἔκειτο δὲ νείατος ἄλλων.\nβὰν δʼ ἰέναι προτέρω διὰ δώματος, ἧος ἵκοντο\nΤηλέμαχον· τὸν δὲ προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι νόστον, ὅπως φρεσὶ σῇσι μενοινᾷς,\nὥς τοι Ζεὺς τελέσειεν, ἐρίγδουπος πόσις Ἥρης.\nδώρων δʼ, ὅσσʼ ἐν ἐμῷ οἴκῳ κειμήλια κεῖται,\nδώσω ὃ κάλλιστον καὶ τιμηέστατόν ἐστι.\nδώσω τοι κρητῆρα τετυγμένον· ἀργύρεος δὲ\nἐστὶν ἅπας, χρυσῷ δʼ ἐπὶ χείλεα κεκράανται,\nἔργον δʼ Ἡφαίστοιο· πόρεν δέ ἑ Φαίδιμος ἥρως,\nΣιδονίων βασιλεύς, ὅθʼ ἑὸς δόμος ἀμφεκάλυψε\nκεῖσέ με νοστήσαντα· τεῒν δʼ ἐθέλω τόδʼ ὀπάσσαι.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἐν χειρὶ τίθει δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον\nἥρως Ἀτρεΐδης· ὁ δʼ ἄρα κρητῆρα φαεινὸν\nθῆκʼ αὐτοῦ προπάροιθε φέρων κρατερὸς Μεγαπένθης,\nἀργύρεον· Ἑλένη δὲ παρίστατο καλλιπάρῃος\nπέπλον ἔχουσʼ ἐν χερσίν, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·\nδῶρόν τοι καὶ ἐγώ, τέκνον φίλε, τοῦτο δίδωμι,\nμνῆμʼ Ἑλένης χειρῶν, πολυηράτου ἐς γάμου ὥρην,\nσῇ ἀλόχῳ φορέειν· τῆος δὲ φίλῃ παρὰ μητρὶ\nκείσθω ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ. σὺ δέ μοι χαίρων ἀφίκοιο\nοἶκον ἐϋκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἐν χερσὶ τίθει, ὁ δʼ ἐδέξατο χαίρων.\nκαὶ τὰ μὲν ἐς πείρινθα τίθει Πεισίστρατος ἥρως\nδεξάμενος, καὶ πάντα ἑῷ θηήσατο θυμῷ·\nτοὺς δʼ ἦγε πρὸς δῶμα κάρη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος.\nἑζέσθην δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε.\nχέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα\nκαλῇ χρυσείῃ, ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,\nνίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.\nσῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα·\nεἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων·\nπὰρ δὲ Βοηθοΐδης κρέα δαίετο καὶ νέμε μοίρας·\nοἰνοχόει δʼ υἱὸς Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nδὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱὸς\nἵππους τε ζεύγνυντʼ ἀνά θʼ ἅρματα ποικίλʼ ἔβαινον,\nἐκ δʼ ἔλασαν προθύροιο καὶ αἰθούσης ἐριδούπου.\nτοὺς δὲ μετʼ Ἀτρεΐδης ἔκιε ξανθὸς Μενέλαος,\nοἶνον ἔχων ἐν χειρὶ μελίφρονα δεξιτερῆφι,\nἐν δέπαϊ χρυσέῳ, ὄφρα λείψαντε κιοίτην.\nστῆ δʼ ἵππων προπάροιθε, δεδισκόμενος δὲ προσηύδα·\nχαίρετον, ὦ κούρω, καὶ Νέστορι ποιμένι λαῶν\nεἰπεῖν· ἦ γὰρ ἐμοί γε πατὴρ ὣς ἤπιος ἦεν,\nἧος ἐνὶ Τροίῃ πολεμίζομεν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nκαὶ λίην κείνῳ γε, διοτρεφές, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,\nπάντα τάδʼ ἐλθόντες καταλέξομεν· αἲ γὰρ ἐγὼν ὣς\nνοστήσας Ἰθάκηνδε, κιχὼν Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nεἴποιμʼ ὡς παρὰ σεῖο τυχὼν φιλότητος ἁπάσης\nἔρχομαι, αὐτὰρ ἄγω κειμήλια πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλά.\nὣς ἄρα οἱ εἰπόντι ἐπέπτατο δεξιὸς ὄρνις,\nαἰετὸς ἀργὴν χῆνα φέρων ὀνύχεσσι πέλωρον,\nἥμερον ἐξ αὐλῆς· οἱ δʼ ἰΰζοντες ἕποντο\nἀνέρες ἠδὲ γυναῖκες· ὁ δέ σφισιν ἐγγύθεν ἐλθὼν\nδεξιὸς ἤϊξε πρόσθʼ ἵππων· οἱ δὲ ἰδόντες\nγήθησαν, καὶ πᾶσιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θυμὸς ἰάνθη.\nτοῖσι δὲ Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος ἤρχετο μύθων·\nφράζεο δή, Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,\nἢ νῶϊν τόδʼ ἔφηνε θεὸς τέρας ἦε σοὶ αὐτῷ.\nὣς φάτο, μερμήριξε δʼ ἀρηΐφιλος Μενέλαος,\nὅππως οἱ κατὰ μοῖραν ὑποκρίναιτο νοήσας.\nτὸν δʼ Ἑλένη τανύπεπλος ὑποφθαμένη φάτο μῦθον·\nκλῦτέ μευ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ μαντεύσομαι, ὡς ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nἀθάνατοι βάλλουσι καὶ ὡς τελέεσθαι ὀΐω.\nὡς ὅδε χῆνʼ ἥρπαξʼ ἀτιταλλομένην ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nἐλθὼν ἐξ ὄρεος, ὅθι οἱ γενεή τε τόκος τε,\nὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κακὰ πολλὰ παθὼν καὶ πόλλʼ ἐπαληθεὶς\nοἴκαδε νοστήσει καὶ τίσεται· ἠὲ καὶ ἤδη\nοἴκοι, ἀτὰρ μνηστῆρσι κακὸν πάντεσσι φυτεύει.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nοὕτω νῦν Ζεὺς θείη, ἐρίγδουπος πόσις Ἥρης·\nτῷ κέν τοι καὶ κεῖθι θεῷ ὣς εὐχετοῴμην.\nἦ καὶ ἐφʼ ἵπποιϊν μάστιν βάλεν· οἱ δὲ μάλʼ ὦκα\nἤϊξαν πεδίονδε διὰ πτόλιος μεμαῶτες.\nοἱ δὲ πανημέριοι σεῖον ζυγὸν ἀμφὶς ἔχοντες.\nδύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί·\nἐς Φηρὰς δʼ ἵκοντο Διοκλῆος ποτὶ δῶμα,\nυἱέος Ὀρτιλόχοιο, τὸν Ἀλφειὸς τέκε παῖδα.\nἔνθα δὲ νύκτʼ ἄεσαν ὁ δὲ τοῖς πὰρ ξείνια θῆκεν.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nἵππους τε ζεύγνυντʼ ἀνά θʼ ἅρματα ποικίλʼ ἔβαινον,\nἐκ δʼ ἔλασαν προθύροιο καὶ αἰθούσης ἐριδούπου·\nμάστιξεν δʼ ἐλάαν, τὼ δʼ οὐκ ἄκοντε πετέσθην.\nαἶψα δʼ ἔπειθʼ ἵκοντο Πύλου αἰπὺ πτολίεθρον·\nκαὶ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεε Νέστορος υἱόν·\nΝεστορίδη, πῶς κέν μοι ὑποσχόμενος τελέσειας\nμῦθον ἐμόν; ξεῖνοι δὲ διαμπερὲς εὐχόμεθʼ εἶναι\nἐκ πατέρων φιλότητος, ἀτὰρ καὶ ὁμήλικές εἰμεν·\nἥδε δʼ ὁδὸς καὶ μᾶλλον ὁμοφροσύνῃσιν ἐνήσει.\nμή με παρὲξ ἄγε νῆα, διοτρεφές, ἀλλὰ λίπʼ αὐτοῦ,\nμή μʼ ὁ γέρων ἀέκοντα κατάσχῃ ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nἱέμενος φιλέειν· ἐμὲ δὲ χρεὼ θᾶσσον ἱκέσθαι.\nὣς φάτο, Νεστορίδης δʼ ἄρʼ ἑῷ συμφράσσατο θυμῷ,\nὅππως οἱ κατὰ μοῖραν ὑποσχόμενος τελέσειεν.\nὧδε δέ οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι·\nστρέψʼ ἵππους ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης,\nνηῒ δʼ ἐνὶ πρύμνῃ ἐξαίνυτο κάλλιμα δῶρα,\nἐσθῆτα χρυσόν τε, τά οἱ Μενέλαος ἔδωκε·\nκαί μιν ἐποτρύνων ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nσπουδῇ νῦν ἀνάβαινε κέλευέ τε πάντας ἑταίρους,\nπρὶν ἐμὲ οἴκαδʼ ἱκέσθαι ἀπαγγεῖλαί τε γέροντι.\nεὖ γὰρ ἐγὼ τόδε οἶδα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν·\nοἷος κείνου θυμὸς ὑπέρβιος, οὔ σε μεθήσει,\nἀλλʼ αὐτὸς καλέων δεῦρʼ εἴσεται, οὐδέ ἕ φημι\nἂψ ἰέναι κενεόν· μάλα γὰρ κεχολώσεται ἔμπης.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἔλασεν καλλίτριχας ἵππους\nἂψ Πυλίων εἰς ἄστυ, θοῶς δʼ ἄρα δώμαθʼ ἵκανε.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνων ἐκέλευσεν·\nἐγκοσμεῖτε τὰ τεύχεʼ, ἑταῖροι, νηῒ μελαίνῃ,\nαὐτοί τʼ ἀμβαίνωμεν, ἵνα πρήσσωμεν ὁδοῖο.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο,\nαἶψα δʼ ἄρʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῗσι καθῖζον.\nἦ τοι ὁ μὲν τὰ πονεῖτο καὶ εὔχετο, θῦε δʼ Ἀθήνῃ\nνηῒ πάρα πρυμνῇ· σχεδόθεν δέ οἱ ἤλυθεν ἀνὴρ\nτηλεδαπός, φεύγων ἐξ Ἄργεος ἄνδρα κατακτάς,\nμάντις· ἀτὰρ γενεήν γε Μελάμποδος ἔκγονος ἦεν,\nὃς πρὶν μέν ποτʼ ἔναιε Πύλῳ ἔνι, μητέρι μήλων,\nἀφνειὸς Πυλίοισι μέγʼ ἔξοχα δώματα ναίων·\nδὴ τότε γʼ ἄλλων δῆμον ἀφίκετο, πατρίδα φεύγων\nΝηλέα τε μεγάθυμον, ἀγαυότατον ζωόντων,\nὅς οἱ χρήματα πολλὰ τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν\nεἶχε βίῃ. ὁ δὲ τῆος ἐνὶ μεγάροις Φυλάκοιο\nδεσμῷ ἐν ἀργαλέῳ δέδετο, κρατέρʼ ἄλγεα πάσχων\nεἵνεκα Νηλῆος κούρης ἄτης τε βαρείης,\nτήν οἱ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε θεὰ δασπλῆτις Ἐρινύς.\nἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἔκφυγε κῆρα καὶ ἤλασε βοῦς ἐριμύκους\nἐς Πύλον ἐκ Φυλάκης καὶ ἐτίσατο ἔργον ἀεικὲς\nἀντίθεον Νηλῆα, κασιγνήτῳ δὲ γυναῖκα\nἠγάγετο πρὸς δώμαθʼ. ὁ δʼ ἄλλων ἵκετο δῆμον,\nἌργος ἐς ἱππόβοτον· τόθι γάρ νύ οἱ αἴσιμον ἦεν\nναιέμεναι πολλοῖσιν ἀνάσσοντʼ Ἀργείοισιν\nἔνθα δʼ ἔγημε γυναῖκα καὶ ὑψερεφὲς θέτο δῶμα,\nγείνατο δʼ Ἀντιφάτην καὶ Μάντιον, υἷε κραταιώ.\nἈντιφάτης μὲν ἔτικτεν Ὀϊκλῆα μεγάθυμον,\nαὐτὰρ Ὀϊκλείης λαοσσόον Ἀμφιάραον,\nὃν περὶ κῆρι φίλει Ζεύς τʼ αἰγίοχος καὶ Ἀπόλλων\nπαντοίην φιλότητʼ· οὐδʼ ἵκετο γήραος οὐδόν,\nἀλλʼ ὄλετʼ ἐν Θήβῃσι γυναίων εἵνεκα δώρων.\nτοῦ δʼ υἱεῖς ἐγένοντʼ Ἀλκμαίων Ἀμφίλοχός τε.\nΜάντιος αὖ τέκετο Πολυφείδεά τε Κλεῖτόν τε·\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι Κλεῖτον χρυσόθρονος ἥρπασεν Ἠὼς\nκάλλεος εἵνεκα οἷο, ἵνʼ ἀθανάτοισι μετείη·\nαὐτὰρ ὑπέρθυμον Πολυφείδεα μάντιν Ἀπόλλων\nθῆκε βροτῶν ὄχʼ ἄριστον, ἐπεὶ θάνεν Ἀμφιάραος·\nὅς ῥʼ Ὑπερησίηνδʼ ἀπενάσσατο πατρὶ χολωθείς,\nἔνθʼ ὅ γε ναιετάων μαντεύετο πᾶσι βροτοῖσιν.\nτοῦ μὲν ἄρʼ υἱὸς ἐπῆλθε, Θεοκλύμενος δʼ ὄνομʼ ἦεν,\nὃς τότε Τηλεμάχου πέλας ἵστατο· τὸν δʼ ἐκίχανεν\nσπένδοντʼ εὐχόμενόν τε θοῇ παρὰ νηῒ μελαίνῃ,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεί σε θύοντα κιχάνω τῷδʼ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,\nλίσσομʼ ὑπὲρ θυέων καὶ δαίμονος, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nσῆς τʼ αὐτοῦ κεφαλῆς καὶ ἑταίρων, οἵ τοι ἕπονται,\nεἰπέ μοι εἰρομένῳ νημερτέα μηδʼ ἐπικεύσῃς·\nτίς πόθεν εἶς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.\nἐξ Ἰθάκης γένος εἰμί, πατὴρ δέ μοί ἐστιν Ὀδυσσεύς,\nεἴ ποτʼ ἔην· νῦν δʼ ἤδη ἀπέφθιτο λυγρῷ ὀλέθρῳ.\nτοὔνεκα νῦν ἑτάρους τε λαβὼν καὶ νῆα μέλαιναν\nἦλθον πευσόμενος πατρὸς δὴν οἰχομένοιο.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Θεοκλύμενος θεοειδής·\nοὕτω τοι καὶ ἐγὼν ἐκ πατρίδος, ἄνδρα κατακτὰς\nἔμφυλον· πολλοὶ δὲ κασίγνητοί τε ἔται τε\nἌργος ἀνʼ ἱππόβοτον, μέγα δὲ κρατέουσιν Ἀχαιῶν.\nτῶν ὑπαλευάμενος θάνατον καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν\nφεύγω, ἐπεί νύ μοι αἶσα κατʼ ἀνθρώπους ἀλάλησθαι.\nἀλλά με νηὸς ἔφεσσαι, ἐπεί σε φυγὼν ἱκέτευσα,\nμή με κατακτείνωσι· διωκέμεναι γὰρ ὀΐω.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nοὐ μὲν δή σʼ ἐθέλοντά γʼ ἀπώσω νηὸς ἐΐσης,\nἀλλʼ ἕπευ· αὐτὰρ κεῖθι φιλήσεαι, οἷά κʼ ἔχωμεν.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας οἱ ἐδέξατο χάλκεον ἔγχος,\nκαὶ τό γʼ ἐπʼ ἰκριόφιν τάνυσεν νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης·\nἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς νηὸς ἐβήσετο ποντοπόροιο.\nἐν πρύμνῃ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα καθέζετο, πὰρ δὲ οἷ αὐτῷ\nεἷσε Θεοκλύμενον· τοὶ δὲ πρυμνήσιʼ ἔλυσαν.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσεν\nὅπλων ἅπτεσθαι· τοὶ δʼ ἐσσυμένως ἐπίθοντο.\nἱστὸν δʼ εἰλάτινον κοίλης ἔντοσθε μεσόδμης\nστῆσαν ἀείραντες, κατὰ δὲ προτόνοισιν ἔδησαν,\nἕλκον δʼ ἱστία λευκὰ ἐϋστρέπτοισι βοεῦσι.\nτοῖσιν δʼ ἴκμενον οὖρον ἵει γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,\nλάβρον ἐπαιγίζοντα διʼ αἰθέρος, ὄφρα τάχιστα\nνηῦς ἀνύσειε θέουσα θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.\nβὰν δὲ παρὰ Κρουνοὺς καὶ Χαλκίδα καλλιρέεθρον.\nδύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί·\nἡ δὲ Φεὰς ἐπέβαλλεν ἐπειγομένη Διὸς οὔρῳ\nἠδὲ παρʼ Ἤλιδα δῖαν, ὅθι κρατέουσιν Ἐπειοί.\nἔνθεν δʼ αὖ νήσοισιν ἐπιπροέηκε θοῇσιν,\nὁρμαίνων ἤ κεν θάνατον φύγοι ἦ κεν ἁλώῃ.\nτὼ δʼ αὖτʼ ἐν κλισίῃ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ δῖος ὑφορβὸς\nδορπείτην· παρὰ δέ σφιν ἐδόρπεον ἀνέρες ἄλλοι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nτοῖς δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς μετέειπε, συβώτεω πειρητίζων,\nἤ μιν ἔτʼ ἐνδυκέως φιλέοι μεῖναί τε κελεύοι\nαὐτοῦ ἐνὶ σταθμῷ, ἦ ὀτρύνειε πόλινδε·\nκέκλυθι νῦν, Εὔμαιε, καὶ ἄλλοι πάντες ἑταῖροι·\nἠῶθεν προτὶ ἄστυ λιλαίομαι ἀπονέεσθαι\nπτωχεύσων, ἵνα μή σε κατατρύχω καὶ ἑταίρους.\nἀλλά μοι εὖ θʼ ὑπόθευ καὶ ἅμʼ ἡγεμόνʼ ἐσθλὸν ὄπασσον\nὅς κέ με κεῖσʼ ἀγάγῃ· κατὰ δὲ πτόλιν αὐτὸς ἀνάγκῃ\nπλάγξομαι, αἴ κέν τις κοτύλην καὶ πύρνον ὀρέξῃ.\nκαί κʼ ἐλθὼν πρὸς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο\nἀγγελίην εἴποιμι περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,\nκαί κε μνηστήρεσσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι μιγείην,\nεἴ μοι δεῖπνον δοῖεν ὀνείατα μυρίʼ ἔχοντες.\nαἶψά κεν εὖ δρώοιμι μετὰ σφίσιν ἅσσʼ ἐθέλοιεν.\nἐκ γάρ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο καί μευ ἄκουσον·\nἙρμείαο ἕκητι διακτόρου, ὅς ῥά τε πάντων\nἀνθρώπων ἔργοισι χάριν καὶ κῦδος ὀπάζει,\nδρηστοσύνῃ οὐκ ἄν μοι ἐρίσσειε βροτὸς ἄλλος,\nπῦρ τʼ εὖ νηῆσαι διά τε ξύλα δανὰ κεάσσαι,\nδαιτρεῦσαί τε καὶ ὀπτῆσαι καὶ οἰνοχοῆσαι,\nοἷά τε τοῖς ἀγαθοῖσι παραδρώωσι χέρηες.\nτὸν δὲ μέγʼ ὀχθήσας προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nὤ μοι, ξεῖνε, τίη τοι ἐνὶ φρεσὶ τοῦτο νόημα\nἔπλετο; ἦ σύ γε πάγχυ λιλαίεαι αὐτόθʼ ὀλέσθαι.\nεἰ δὴ μνηστήρων ἐθέλεις καταδῦναι ὅμιλον,\nτῶν ὕβρις τε βίη τε σιδήρεον οὐρανὸν ἵκει.\nοὔ τοι τοιοίδʼ εἰσὶν ὑποδρηστῆρες ἐκείνων,\nἀλλὰ νέοι, χλαίνας εὖ εἱμένοι ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,\nαἰεὶ δὲ λιπαροὶ κεφαλὰς καὶ καλὰ πρόσωπα,\nοἵ σφιν ὑποδρώωσιν· ἐΰξεστοι δὲ τράπεζαι\nσίτου καὶ κρειῶν ἠδʼ οἴνου βεβρίθασιν.\nἀλλὰ μένʼ· οὐ γάρ τίς τοι ἀνιᾶται παρεόντι,\nοὔτʼ ἐγὼ οὔτε τις ἄλλος ἑταίρων, οἵ μοι ἔασιν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ἔλθῃσιν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός,\nκεῖνός σε χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα ἕσσει,\nπέμψει δʼ ὅππη σε κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nαἴθʼ οὕτως, Εὔμαιε, φίλος Διὶ πατρὶ γένοιο\nὡς ἐμοί, ὅττι μʼ ἔπαυσας ἄλης καὶ ὀϊζύος αἰνῆς.\nπλαγκτοσύνης δʼ οὐκ ἔστι κακώτερον ἄλλο βροτοῖσιν·\nἀλλʼ ἕνεκʼ οὐλομένης γαστρὸς κακὰ κήδεʼ ἔχουσιν\nἀνέρες, ὅν τινʼ ἵκηται ἄλη καὶ πῆμα καὶ ἄλγος.\nνῦν δʼ ἐπεὶ ἰσχανάᾳς μεῖναί τέ με κεῖνον ἄνωγας,\nεἴπʼ ἄγε μοι περὶ μητρὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο\nπατρός θʼ, ὃν κατέλειπεν ἰὼν ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ,\nἤ που ἔτι ζώουσιν ὑπʼ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο,\nἦ ἤδη τεθνᾶσι καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.\nΛαέρτης μὲν ἔτι ζώει, Διὶ δʼ εὔχεται αἰεὶ\nθυμὸν ἀπὸ μελέων φθίσθαι οἷς ἐν μεγάροισιν·\nἐκπάγλως γὰρ παιδὸς ὀδύρεται οἰχομένοιο\nκουριδίης τʼ ἀλόχοιο δαΐφρονος, ἥ ἑ μάλιστα\nἤκαχʼ ἀποφθιμένη καὶ ἐν ὠμῷ γήραϊ θῆκεν.\nἡ δʼ ἄχεϊ οὗ παιδὸς ἀπέφθιτο κυδαλίμοιο,\nλευγαλέῳ θανάτῳ, ὡς μὴ θάνοι ὅς τις ἐμοί γε\nἐνθάδε ναιετάων φίλος εἴη καὶ φίλα ἔρδοι.\nὄφρα μὲν οὖν δὴ κείνη ἔην, ἀχέουσά περ ἔμπης,\nτόφρα τί μοι φίλον ἔσκε μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι,\nοὕνεκά μʼ αὐτὴ θρέψεν ἅμα Κτιμένῃ τανυπέπλῳ,\nθυγατέρʼ ἰφθίμῃ, τὴν ὁπλοτάτην τέκε παίδων·\nτῇ ὁμοῦ ἐτρεφόμην, ὀλίγον δέ τί μʼ ἧσσον ἐτίμα.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἥβην πολυήρατον ἱκόμεθʼ ἄμφω,\nτὴν μὲν ἔπειτα Σάμηνδʼ ἔδοσαν καὶ μυρίʼ ἕλοντο,\nαὐτὰρ ἐμὲ χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἐκείνη\nκαλὰ μάλʼ ἀμφιέσασα, ποσὶν δʼ ὑποδήματα δοῦσα\nἀγρόνδε προΐαλλε· φίλει δέ με κηρόθι μᾶλλον.\nνῦν δʼ ἤδη τούτων ἐπιδεύομαι· ἀλλά μοι αὐτῷ\nἔργον ἀέξουσιν μάκαρες θεοὶ ᾧ ἐπιμίμνω·\nτῶν ἔφαγόν τʼ ἔπιόν τε καὶ αἰδοίοισιν ἔδωκα.\nἐκ δʼ ἄρα δεσποίνης οὐ μείλιχον ἔστιν ἀκοῦσαι\nοὔτʼ ἔπος οὔτε τι ἔργον, ἐπεὶ κακὸν ἔμπεσεν οἴκῳ,\nἄνδρες ὑπερφίαλοι· μέγα δὲ δμῶες χατέουσιν\nἀντία δεσποίνης φάσθαι καὶ ἕκαστα πυθέσθαι\nκαὶ φαγέμεν πιέμεν τε, ἔπειτα δὲ καί τι φέρεσθαι\nἀγρόνδʼ, οἷά τε θυμὸν ἀεὶ δμώεσσιν ἰαίνει.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὢ πόποι, ὡς ἄρα τυτθὸς ἐών, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα,\nπολλὸν ἀπεπλάγχθης σῆς πατρίδος ἠδὲ τοκήων.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,\nἠὲ διεπράθετο πτόλις ἀνδρῶν εὐρυάγυια,\nᾗ ἔνι ναιετάασκε πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ,\nἦ σέ γε μουνωθέντα παρʼ οἴεσιν ἢ παρὰ βουσὶν\nἄνδρες δυσμενέες νηυσὶν λάβον ἠδʼ ἐπέρασσαν\nτοῦδʼ ἀνδρὸς πρὸς δώμαθʼ, ὁ δʼ ἄξιον ὦνον ἔδωκε.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·\nξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ ἂρ δὴ ταῦτά μʼ ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς,\nσιγῇ νῦν ξυνίει καὶ τέρπεο, πῖνέ τε οἶνον\nἥμενος. αἵδε δὲ νύκτες ἀθέσφατοι· ἔστι μὲν εὕδειν,\nἔστι δὲ τερπομένοισιν ἀκούειν· οὐδέ τί σε χρή,\nπρὶν ὥρη, καταλέχθαι· ἀνίη καὶ πολὺς ὕπνος.\nτῶν δʼ ἄλλων ὅτινα κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀνώγει,\nεὑδέτω ἐξελθών· ἅμα δʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφι\nδειπνήσας ἅμʼ ὕεσσιν ἀνακτορίῃσιν ἑπέσθω.\nνῶϊ δʼ ἐνὶ κλισίῃ πίνοντέ τε δαινυμένω τε\nκήδεσιν ἀλλήλων τερπώμεθα λευγαλέοισι,\nμνωομένω· μετὰ γάρ τε καὶ ἄλγεσι τέρπεται ἀνήρ,\nὅς τις δὴ μάλα πολλὰ πάθῃ καὶ πόλλʼ ἐπαληθῇ.\nτοῦτο δέ τοι ἐρέω ὅ μʼ ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς.\nνῆσός τις Συρίη κικλήσκεται, εἴ που ἀκούεις,\nὈρτυγίης καθύπερθεν, ὅθι τροπαὶ ἠελίοιο,\nοὔ τι περιπληθὴς λίην τόσον, ἀλλʼ ἀγαθὴ μέν,\nεὔβοτος, εὔμηλος, οἰνοπληθής, πολύπυρος.\nπείνη δʼ οὔ ποτε δῆμον ἐσέρχεται, οὐδέ τις ἄλλη\nνοῦσος ἐπὶ στυγερὴ πέλεται δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσιν·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε γηράσκωσι πόλιν κάτα φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων,\nἐλθὼν ἀργυρότοξος Ἀπόλλων Ἀρτέμιδι ξὺν\nοἷς ἀγανοῖς βελέεσσιν ἐποιχόμενος κατέπεφνεν.\nἔνθα δύω πόλιες, δίχα δέ σφισι πάντα δέδασται·\nτῇσιν δʼ ἀμφοτέρῃσι πατὴρ ἐμὸς ἐμβασίλευε,\nΚτήσιος Ὀρμενίδης, ἐπιείκελος ἀθανάτοισιν.\nἔνθα δὲ Φοίνικες ναυσίκλυτοι ἤλυθον ἄνδρες,\nτρῶκται, μυρίʼ ἄγοντες ἀθύρματα νηῒ μελαίνῃ.\nἔσκε δὲ πατρὸς ἐμοῖο γυνὴ Φοίνισσʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nκαλή τε μεγάλη τε καὶ ἀγλαὰ ἔργα ἰδυῖα·\nτὴν δʼ ἄρα Φοίνικες πολυπαίπαλοι ἠπερόπευον.\nπλυνούσῃ τις πρῶτα μίγη κοίλῃ παρὰ νηῒ\nεὐνῇ καὶ φιλότητι, τά τε φρένας ἠπεροπεύει\nθηλυτέρῃσι γυναιξί, καὶ ἥ κʼ εὐεργὸς ἔῃσιν.\nεἰρώτα δὴ ἔπειτα τίς εἴη καὶ πόθεν ἔλθοι·\nἡ δὲ μάλʼ αὐτίκα πατρὸς ἐπέφραδεν ὑψερεφὲς δῶ·\nἐκ μὲν Σιδῶνος πολυχάλκου εὔχομαι εἶναι,\nκούρη δʼ εἴμʼ Ἀρύβαντος ἐγὼ ῥυδὸν ἀφνειοῖο·\nἀλλά μʼ ἀνήρπαξαν Τάφιοι ληΐστορες ἄνδρες\nἀγρόθεν ἐρχομένην, πέρασαν δέ τε δεῦρʼ ἀγαγόντες\nτοῦδʼ ἀνδρὸς πρὸς δώμαθʼ· ὁ δʼ ἄξιον ὦνον ἔδωκε.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπεν ἀνήρ, ὃς ἐμίσγετο λάθρη·\nἦ ῥά κε νῦν πάλιν αὖτις ἅμʼ ἡμῖν οἴκαδʼ ἕποιο,\nὄφρα ἴδῃ πατρὸς καὶ μητέρος ὑψερεφὲς δῶ\nαὐτούς τʼ; ἦ γὰρ ἔτʼ εἰσὶ καὶ ἀφνειοὶ καλέονται.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε γυνὴ καὶ ἀμείβετο μύθῳ·\nεἴη κεν καὶ τοῦτʼ, εἴ μοι ἐθέλοιτέ γε, ναῦται,\nὅρκῳ πιστωθῆναι ἀπήμονά μʼ οἴκαδʼ ἀπάξειν.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπώμνυον ὡς ἐκέλευεν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσάν τε τελεύτησάν τε τὸν ὅρκον,\nτοῖς δʼ αὖτις μετέειπε γυνὴ καὶ ἀμείβετο μύθῳ·\nσιγῇ νῦν, μή τίς με προσαυδάτω ἐπέεσσιν\nὑμετέρων ἑτάρων, ξυμβλήμενος ἢ ἐν ἀγυιῇ,\nἤ που ἐπὶ κρήνῃ· μή τις ποτὶ δῶμα γέροντι\nἐλθὼν ἐξείπῃ, ὁ δʼ ὀϊσάμενος καταδήσῃ\nδεσμῷ ἐν ἀργαλέῳ, ὑμῖν δʼ ἐπιφράσσετʼ ὄλεθρον.\nἀλλʼ ἔχετʼ ἐν φρεσὶ μῦθον, ἐπείγετε δʼ ὦνον ὁδαίων.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε κεν δὴ νηῦς πλείη βιότοιο γένηται,\nἀγγελίη μοι ἔπειτα θοῶς ἐς δώμαθʼ ἱκέσθω·\nοἴσω γὰρ καὶ χρυσόν, ὅτις χʼ ὑποχείριος ἔλθῃ·\nκαὶ δέ κεν ἄλλʼ ἐπίβαθρον ἐγὼν ἐθέλουσά γε δοίην.\nπαῖδα γὰρ ἀνδρὸς ἑῆος ἐνὶ μεγάροις ἀτιτάλλω,\nκερδαλέον δὴ τοῖον, ἅμα τροχόωντα θύραζε·\nτόν κεν ἄγοιμʼ ἐπὶ νηός, ὁ δʼ ὑμῖν μυρίον ὦνον\nἄλφοι, ὅπῃ περάσητε κατʼ ἀλλοθρόους ἀνθρώπους.\nἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀπέβη πρὸς δώματα καλά,\nοἱ δʼ ἐνιαυτὸν ἅπαντα παρʼ ἡμῖν αὖθι μένοντες\nἐν νηῒ γλαφυρῇ βίοτον πολὺν ἐμπολόωντο.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ κοίλη νηῦς ἤχθετο τοῖσι νέεσθαι,\nκαὶ τότʼ ἄρʼ ἄγγελον ἧκαν, ὃς ἀγγείλειε γυναικί.\nἤλυθʼ ἀνὴρ πολύϊδρις ἐμοῦ πρὸς δώματα πατρὸς\nχρύσεον ὅρμον ἔχων, μετὰ δʼ ἠλέκτροισιν ἔερτο.\nτὸν μὲν ἄρʼ ἐν μεγάρῳ δμῳαὶ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ\nχερσίν τʼ ἀμφαφόωντο καὶ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶντο,\nὦνον ὑπισχόμεναι· ὁ δὲ τῇ κατένευσε σιωπῇ.\nἦ τοι ὁ καννεύσας κοίλην ἐπὶ νῆα βεβήκει,\nἡ δʼ ἐμὲ χειρὸς ἑλοῦσα δόμων ἐξῆγε θύραζε.\nεὗρε δʼ ἐνὶ προδόμῳ ἠμὲν δέπα ἠδὲ τραπέζας\nἀνδρῶν δαιτυμόνων, οἵ μευ πατέρʼ ἀμφεπένοντο.\nοἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐς θῶκον πρόμολον, δήμοιό τε φῆμιν,\nἡ δʼ αἶψα τρίʼ ἄλεισα κατακρύψασʼ ὑπὸ κόλπῳ\nἔκφερεν· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἑπόμην ἀεσιφροσύνῃσι.\nδύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος, σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί·\nἡμεῖς δʼ ἐς λιμένα κλυτὸν ἤλθομεν ὦκα κιόντες,\nἔνθʼ ἄρα Φοινίκων ἀνδρῶν ἦν ὠκύαλος νηῦς.\nοἱ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀναβάντες ἐπέπλεον ὑγρὰ κέλευθα,\nνὼ ἀναβησάμενοι· ἐπὶ δὲ Ζεὺς οὖρον ἴαλλεν.\nἑξῆμαρ μὲν ὁμῶς πλέομεν νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἕβδομον ἦμαρ ἐπὶ Ζεὺς θῆκε Κρονίων,\nτὴν μὲν ἔπειτα γυναῖκα βάλʼ Ἄρτεμις ἰοχέαιρα,\nἄντλῳ δʼ ἐνδούπησε πεσοῦσʼ ὡς εἰναλίη κήξ.\nκαὶ τὴν μὲν φώκῃσι καὶ ἰχθύσι κύρμα γενέσθαι\nἔκβαλον· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ λιπόμην ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ·\nτοὺς δʼ Ἰθάκῃ ἐπέλασσε φέρων ἄνεμός τε καὶ ὕδωρ,\nἔνθα με Λαέρτης πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν.\nοὕτω τήνδε τε γαῖαν ἐγὼν ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ διογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·\nΕὔμαιʼ, ἦ μάλα δή μοι ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θυμὸν ὄρινας\nταῦτα ἕκαστα λέγων, ὅσα δὴ πάθες ἄλγεα θυμῷ.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι σοὶ μὲν παρὰ καὶ κακῷ ἐσθλὸν ἔθηκε\nΖεύς, ἐπεὶ ἀνδρὸς δώματʼ ἀφίκεο πολλὰ μογήσας\nἠπίου, ὃς δή τοι παρέχει βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε\nἐνδυκέως, ζώεις δʼ ἀγαθὸν βίον· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε\nπολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστεʼ ἀλώμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνω.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nκαδδραθέτην δʼ οὐ πολλὸν ἐπὶ χρόνον, ἀλλὰ μίνυνθα·\nαἶψα γὰρ Ἠὼς ἦλθεν ἐΰθρονος. οἱ δʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου\nΤηλεμάχου ἕταροι λύον ἱστία, κὰδ δʼ ἕλον ἱστὸν\nκαρπαλίμως, τὴν δʼ εἰς ὅρμον προέρυσσαν ἐρετμοῖς·\nἐκ δʼ εὐνὰς ἔβαλον, κατὰ δὲ πρυμνήσιʼ ἔδησαν·\nἐκ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βαῖνον ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης,\nδεῖπνόν τʼ ἐντύνοντο κερῶντό τε αἴθοπα οἶνον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nτοῖσι δὲ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἤρχετο μύθων·\nὑμεῖς μὲν νῦν ἄστυδʼ ἐλαύνετε νῆα μέλαιναν,\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἀγροὺς ἐπιείσομαι ἠδὲ βοτῆρας·\nἑσπέριος δʼ εἰς ἄστυ ἰδὼν ἐμὰ ἔργα κάτειμι.\nἠῶθεν δέ κεν ὔμμιν ὁδοιπόριον παραθείμην,\nδαῖτʼ ἀγαθὴν κρειῶν τε καὶ οἴνου ἡδυπότοιο.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Θεοκλύμενος θεοειδής·\nπῆ γὰρ ἐγώ, φίλε τέκνον, ἴω; τεῦ δώμαθʼ ἵκωμαι\nἀνδρῶν οἳ κραναὴν Ἰθάκην κάτα κοιρανέουσιν;\nἦ ἰθὺς σῆς μητρὸς ἴω καὶ σοῖο δόμοιο;\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἄλλως μέν σʼ ἂν ἐγώ γε καὶ ἡμέτερόνδε κελοίμην\nἔρχεσθʼ· οὐ γάρ τι ξενίων ποθή· ἀλλὰ σοὶ αὐτῷ\nχεῖρον, ἐπεί τοι ἐγὼ μὲν ἀπέσσομαι, οὐδέ σε μήτηρ\nὄψεται· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι θαμὰ μνηστῆρσʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nφαίνεται, ἀλλʼ ἀπὸ τῶν ὑπερωΐῳ ἱστὸν ὑφαίνει.\nἀλλά τοι ἄλλον φῶτα πιφαύσκομαι ὅν κεν ἵκοιο,\nΕὐρύμαχον, Πολύβοιο δαΐφρονος ἀγλαὸν υἱόν,\nτὸν νῦν ἶσα θεῷ Ἰθακήσιοι εἰσορόωσι·\nκαὶ γὰρ πολλὸν ἄριστος ἀνὴρ μέμονέν τε μάλιστα\nμητέρʼ ἐμὴν γαμέειν καὶ Ὀδυσσῆος γέρας ἕξειν.\nἀλλὰ τά γε Ζεὺς οἶδεν Ὀλύμπιος, αἰθέρι ναίων,\nεἴ κέ σφι πρὸ γάμοιο τελευτήσει κακὸν ἦμαρ.\nὣς ἄρα οἱ εἰπόντι ἐπέπτατο δεξιὸς ὄρνις,\nκίρκος, Ἀπόλλωνος ταχὺς ἄγγελος· ἐν δὲ πόδεσσι\nτίλλε πέλειαν ἔχων, κατὰ δὲ πτερὰ χεῦεν ἔραζε\nμεσσηγὺς νηός τε καὶ αὐτοῦ Τηλεμάχοιο.\nτὸν δὲ Θεοκλύμενος ἑτάρων ἀπονόσφι καλέσσας\nἔν τʼ ἄρα οἱ φῦ χειρὶ ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, οὔ τοι ἄνευ θεοῦ ἔπτατο δεξιὸς ὄρνις\nἔγνων γάρ μιν ἐσάντα ἰδὼν οἰωνὸν ἐόντα.\nὑμετέρου δʼ οὐκ ἔστι γένος βασιλεύτερον ἄλλο\nἐν δήμῳ Ἰθάκης, ἀλλʼ ὑμεῖς καρτεροὶ αἰεί.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nαἲ γὰρ τοῦτο, ξεῖνε, ἔπος τετελεσμένον εἴη·\nτῷ κε τάχα γνοίης φιλότητά τε πολλά τε δῶρα\nἐξ ἐμεῦ, ὡς ἄν τίς σε συναντόμενος μακαρίζοι.\nἦ καὶ Πείραιον προσεφώνεε, πιστὸν ἑταῖρον·\nΠείραιε Κλυτίδη, σὺ δέ μοι τά περ ἄλλα μάλιστα\nπείθῃ ἐμῶν ἑτάρων, οἵ μοι Πύλον εἰς ἅμʼ ἕποντο·\nκαὶ νῦν μοι τὸν ξεῖνον ἄγων ἐν δώμασι σοῖσιν\nἐνδυκέως φιλέειν καὶ τιέμεν, εἰς ὅ κεν ἔλθω.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Πείραιος δουρικλυτὸς ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, εἰ γάρ κεν σὺ πολὺν χρόνον ἐνθάδε μίμνοι,\nτόνδε τʼ ἐγὼ κομιῶ, ξενίων δέ οἱ οὐ ποθὴ ἔσται.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἐπὶ νηὸς ἔβη, ἐκέλευσε δʼ ἑταίρους\nαὐτούς τʼ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι.\nοἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῗσι καθῖζον.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,\nεἵλετο δʼ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος, ἀκαχμένον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,\nνηὸς ἀπʼ ἰκριόφιν· τοὶ δὲ πρυμνήσιʼ ἔλυσαν.\nοἱ μὲν ἀνώσαντες πλέον ἐς πόλιν, ὡς ἐκέλευσε\nΤηλέμαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο·\nτὸν δʼ ὦκα προβιβάντα πόδες φέρον, ὄφρʼ ἵκετʼ αὐλήν,\nἔνθα οἱ ἦσαν ὕες μάλα μυρίαι, ᾗσι συβώτης\nἐσθλὸς ἐὼν ἐνίαυεν, ἀνάκτεσιν ἤπια εἰδώς.\n\n### Book 16\n\nτὼ δʼ αὖτʼ ἐν κλισίῃ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ δῖος ὑφορβὸς\nἐντύνοντο ἄριστον ἅμʼ ἠοῖ, κηαμένω πῦρ,\nἔκπεμψάν τε νομῆας ἅμʼ ἀγρομένοισι σύεσσι·\nΤηλέμαχον δὲ περίσσαινον κύνες ὑλακόμωροι,\nοὐδʼ ὕλαον προσιόντα. νόησε δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nσαίνοντάς τε κύνας, περί τε κτύπος ἦλθε ποδοῖϊν.\nαἶψα δʼ ἄρʼ Εὔμαιον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nΕὔμαιʼ, ἦ μάλα τίς τοι ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ ἑταῖρος\nἢ καὶ γνώριμος ἄλλος, ἐπεὶ κύνες οὐχ ὑλάουσιν,\nἀλλὰ περισσαίνουσι· ποδῶν δʼ ὑπὸ δοῦπον ἀκούω.\nοὔ πω πᾶν εἴρητο ἔπος, ὅτε οἱ φίλος υἱὸς\nἔστη ἐνὶ προθύροισι. ταφὼν δʼ ἀνόρουσε συβώτης,\nἐκ δʼ ἄρα οἱ χειρῶν πέσον ἄγγεα, τοῖς ἐπονεῖτο,\nκιρνὰς αἴθοπα οἶνον. ὁ δʼ ἀντίος ἦλθεν ἄνακτος,\nκύσσε δέ μιν κεφαλήν τε καὶ ἄμφω φάεα καλὰ\nχεῖράς τʼ ἀμφοτέρας· θαλερὸν δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε δάκρυ.\nὡς δὲ πατὴρ ὃν παῖδα φίλα φρονέων ἀγαπάζῃ\nἐλθόντʼ ἐξ ἀπίης γαίης δεκάτῳ ἐνιαυτῷ,\nμοῦνον τηλύγετον, τῷ ἔπʼ ἄλγεα πολλὰ μογήσῃ,\nὣς τότε Τηλέμαχον θεοειδέα δῖος ὑφορβὸς\nπάντα κύσεν περιφύς, ὡς ἐκ θανάτοιο φυγόντα·\nκαί ῥʼ ὀλοφυρόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἦλθες, Τηλέμαχε, γλυκερὸν φάος. οὔ σʼ ἔτʼ ἐγώ γε\nὄψεσθαι ἐφάμην, ἐπεὶ ᾤχεο νηῒ Πύλονδε.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν εἴσελθε, φίλον τέκος, ὄφρα σε θυμῷ\nτέρψομαι εἰσορόων νέον ἄλλοθεν ἔνδον ἐόντα.\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τι θάμʼ ἀγρὸν ἐπέρχεαι οὐδὲ νομῆας,\nἀλλʼ ἐπιδημεύεις· ὣς γάρ νύ τοι εὔαδε θυμῷ,\nἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων ἐσορᾶν ἀΐδηλον ὅμιλον.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἔσσεται οὕτως, ἄττα· σέθεν δʼ ἕνεκʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνω,\nὄφρα σέ τʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδω καὶ μῦθον ἀκούσω,\nἤ μοι ἔτʼ ἐν μεγάροις μήτηρ μένει, ἦέ τις ἤδη\nἀνδρῶν ἄλλος ἔγημεν, Ὀδυσσῆος δέ που εὐνὴ\nχήτει ἐνευναίων κάκʼ ἀράχνια κεῖται ἔχουσα.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·\nκαὶ λίην κείνη γε μένει τετληότι θυμῷ\nσοῖσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν· ὀϊζυραὶ δέ οἱ αἰεὶ\nφθίνουσιν νύκτες τε καὶ ἤματα δάκρυ χεούσῃ.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας οἱ ἐδέξατο χάλκεον ἔγχος·\nαὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ εἴσω ἴεν καὶ ὑπέρβη λάϊνον οὐδόν.\nτῷ δʼ ἕδρης ἐπιόντι πατὴρ ὑπόειξεν Ὀδυσσεύς·\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἑτέρωθεν ἐρήτυε φώνησέν τε·\nἧσʼ, ὦ ξεῖνʼ· ἡμεῖς δὲ καὶ ἄλλοθι δήομεν ἕδρην\nσταθμῷ ἐν ἡμετέρῳ· πάρα δʼ ἀνὴρ ὃς καταθήσει.\nὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αὖτις ἰὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο· τῷ δὲ συβώτης.\nχεῦεν ὕπο χλωρὰς ῥῶπας καὶ κῶας ὕπερθεν·\nἔνθα καθέζετʼ ἔπειτα Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός.\nτοῖσιν δʼ αὖ κρειῶν πίνακας παρέθηκε συβώτης\nὀπταλέων, ἅ ῥα τῇ προτέρῃ ὑπέλειπον ἔδοντες,\nσῖτον δʼ ἐσσυμένως παρενήνεεν ἐν κανέοισιν,\nἐν δʼ ἄρα κισσυβίῳ κίρνη μελιηδέα οἶνον·\nαὐτὸς δʼ ἀντίον ἷζεν Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nδὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεε δῖον ὑφορβόν·\nἄττα, πόθεν τοι ξεῖνος ὅδʼ ἵκετο; πῶς δέ ἑ ναῦται\nἤγαγον εἰς Ἰθάκην; τίνες ἔμμεναι εὐχετόωντο;\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τί ἑ πεζὸν ὀΐομαι ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, τέκνον, ἀληθέα πάντʼ ἀγορεύσω.\nἐκ μὲν Κρητάων γένος εὔχεται εὐρειάων,\nφησὶ δὲ πολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστεα δινηθῆναι\nπλαζόμενος· ὣς γάρ οἱ ἐπέκλωσεν τά γε δαίμων.\nνῦν αὖ Θεσπρωτῶν ἀνδρῶν ἐκ νηὸς ἀποδρὰς\nἤλυθʼ ἐμὸν πρὸς σταθμόν, ἐγὼ δέ τοι ἐγγυαλίξω·\nἔρξον ὅπως ἐθέλεις· ἱκέτης δέ τοι εὔχεται εἶναι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nΕὔμαιʼ, ἦ μάλα τοῦτο ἔπος θυμαλγὲς ἔειπες·\nπῶς γὰρ δὴ τὸν ξεῖνον ἐγὼν ὑποδέξομαι οἴκῳ;\nαὐτὸς μὲν νέος εἰμὶ καὶ οὔ πω χερσὶ πέποιθα\nἄνδρʼ ἀπαμύνασθαι, ὅτε τις πρότερος χαλεπήνῃ·\nμητρὶ δʼ ἐμῇ δίχα θυμὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμηρίζει,\nἢ αὐτοῦ παρʼ ἐμοί τε μένῃ καὶ δῶμα κομίζῃ,\nεὐνήν τʼ αἰδομένη πόσιος δήμοιό τε φῆμιν,\nἦ ἤδη ἅμʼ ἕπηται Ἀχαιῶν ὅς τις ἄριστος\nμνᾶται ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἀνὴρ καὶ πλεῖστα πόρῃσιν.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοὶ τὸν ξεῖνον, ἐπεὶ τεὸν ἵκετο δῶμα,\nἕσσω μιν χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, εἵματα καλά,\nδώσω δὲ ξίφος ἄμφηκες καὶ ποσσὶ πέδιλα,\nπέμψω δʼ ὅππη μιν κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.\nεἰ δʼ ἐθέλεις, σὺ κόμισσον ἐνὶ σταθμοῖσιν ἐρύξας·\nεἵματα δʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἐγὼ πέμψω καὶ σῖτον ἅπαντα\nἔδμεναι, ὡς ἂν μή σε κατατρύχῃ καὶ ἑταίρους.\nκεῖσε δʼ ἂν οὔ μιν ἐγώ γε μετὰ μνηστῆρας ἐῷμι\nἔρχεσθαι· λίην γὰρ ἀτάσθαλον ὕβριν ἔχουσι·\nμή μιν κερτομέωσιν, ἐμοὶ δʼ ἄχος ἔσσεται αἰνόν.\nπρῆξαι δʼ ἀργαλέον τι μετὰ πλεόνεσσιν ἐόντα\nἄνδρα καὶ ἴφθιμον, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτεροί εἰσι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεί θήν μοι καὶ ἀμείψασθαι θέμις ἐστίν,\nἦ μάλα μευ καταδάπτετʼ ἀκούοντος φίλον ἦτορ,\nοἷά φατε μνηστῆρας ἀτάσθαλα μηχανάασθαι\nἐν μεγάροις, ἀέκητι σέθεν τοιούτου ἐόντος.\nεἰπέ μοι ἠὲ ἑκὼν ὑποδάμνασαι, ἦ σέ γε λαοὶ\nἐχθαίρουσʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον, ἐπισπόμενοι θεοῦ ὀμφῇ,\nἦ τι κασιγνήτοις ἐπιμέμφεαι, οἷσί περ ἀνὴρ\nμαρναμένοισι πέποιθε, καὶ εἰ μέγα νεῖκος ὄρηται.\nαἲ γὰρ ἐγὼν οὕτω νέος εἴην τῷδʼ ἐπὶ θυμῷ,\nἢ παῖς ἐξ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος ἠὲ καὶ αὐτός·\nαὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπʼ ἐμεῖο κάρη τάμοι ἀλλότριος φώς,\nεἰ μὴ ἐγὼ κείνοισι κακὸν πάντεσσι γενοίμην,\nἐλθὼν ἐς μέγαρον Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος.\nεἰ δʼ αὖ με πληθυῖ δαμασαίατο μοῦνον ἐόντα,\nβουλοίμην κʼ ἐν ἐμοῖσι κατακτάμενος μεγάροισι\nτεθνάμεν ἢ τάδε γʼ αἰὲν ἀεικέα ἔργʼ ὁράασθαι,\nξείνους τε στυφελιζομένους δμῳάς τε γυναῖκας\nῥυστάζοντας ἀεικελίως κατὰ δώματα καλά,\nκαὶ οἶνον διαφυσσόμενον, καὶ σῖτον ἔδοντας\nμὰψ αὔτως, ἀτέλεστον, ἀνηνύστῳ ἐπὶ ἔργῳ.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.\nοὔτε τί μοι πᾶς δῆμος ἀπεχθόμενος χαλεπαίνει,\nοὔτε κασιγνήτοις ἐπιμέμφομαι, οἷσί περ ἀνὴρ\nμαρναμένοισι πέποιθε, καὶ εἰ μέγα νεῖκος ὄρηται.\nὧδε γὰρ ἡμετέρην γενεὴν μούνωσε Κρονίων·\nμοῦνον Λαέρτην Ἀρκείσιος υἱὸν ἔτικτε,\nμοῦνον δʼ αὖτʼ Ὀδυσῆα πατὴρ τέκεν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nμοῦνον ἔμʼ ἐν μεγάροισι τεκὼν λίπεν οὐδʼ ἀπόνητο.\nτῷ νῦν δυσμενέες μάλα μυρίοι εἴσʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.\nὅσσοι γὰρ νήσοισιν ἐπικρατέουσιν ἄριστοι,\nΔουλιχίῳ τε Σάμῃ τε καὶ ὑλήεντι Ζακύνθῳ,\nἠδʼ ὅσσοι κραναὴν Ἰθάκην κάτα κοιρανέουσι,\nτόσσοι μητέρʼ ἐμὴν μνῶνται, τρύχουσι δὲ οἶκον.\nἡ δʼ οὔτʼ ἀρνεῖται στυγερὸν γάμον οὔτε τελευτὴν\nποιῆσαι δύναται· τοὶ δὲ φθινύθουσιν ἔδοντες\nοἶκον ἐμόν· τάχα δή με διαρραίσουσι καὶ αὐτόν.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ταῦτα θεῶν ἐν γούνασι κεῖται·\nἄττα, σὺ δʼ ἔρχεο θᾶσσον, ἐχέφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ\nεἴφʼ ὅτι οἱ σῶς εἰμὶ καὶ ἐκ Πύλου εἰλήλουθα.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν αὐτοῦ μενέω, σὺ δὲ δεῦρο νέεσθαι,\nοἴῃ ἀπαγγείλας· τῶν δʼ ἄλλων μή τις Ἀχαιῶν\nπευθέσθω· πολλοὶ γὰρ ἐμοὶ κακὰ μηχανόωνται.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nγιγνώσκω, φρονέω· τά γε δὴ νοέοντι κελεύεις.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,\nἦ καὶ Λαέρτῃ αὐτὴν ὁδὸν ἄγγελος ἔλθω\nδυσμόρῳ, ὃς τῆος μὲν Ὀδυσσῆος μέγʼ ἀχεύων\nἔργα τʼ ἐποπτεύεσκε μετὰ δμώων τʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nπῖνε καὶ ἦσθʼ, ὅτε θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἀνώγοι·\nαὐτὰρ νῦν, ἐξ οὗ σύ γε ᾤχεο νηῒ Πύλονδε,\nοὔ πω μίν φασιν φαγέμεν καὶ πιέμεν αὔτως,\nοὐδʼ ἐπὶ ἔργα ἰδεῖν, ἀλλὰ στοναχῇ τε γόῳ τε\nἧσται ὀδυρόμενος, φθινύθει δʼ ἀμφʼ ὀστεόφι χρώς.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἄλγιον, ἀλλʼ ἔμπης μιν ἐάσομεν, ἀχνύμενοί περ·\nεἰ γάρ πως εἴη αὐτάγρετα πάντα βροτοῖσι,\nπρῶτόν κεν τοῦ πατρὸς ἑλοίμεθα νόστιμον ἦμαρ.\nἀλλὰ σύ γʼ ἀγγείλας ὀπίσω κίε, μηδὲ κατʼ ἀγροὺς\nπλάζεσθαι μετʼ ἐκεῖνον· ἀτὰρ πρὸς μητέρα εἰπεῖν\nἀμφίπολον ταμίην ὀτρυνέμεν ὅττι τάχιστα\nκρύβδην· κείνη γάρ κεν ἀπαγγείλειε γέροντι.\nἦ ῥα καὶ ὦρσε συφορβόν· ὁ δʼ εἵλετο χερσὶ πέδιλα,\nδησάμενος δʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶ πόλινδʼ ἴεν. οὐδʼ ἄρʼ Ἀθήνην\nλῆθεν ἀπὸ σταθμοῖο κιὼν Εὔμαιος ὑφορβός,\nἀλλʼ ἥ γε σχεδὸν ἦλθε· δέμας δʼ ἤϊκτο γυναικὶ\nκαλῇ τε μεγάλῃ τε καὶ ἀγλαὰ ἔργα ἰδυίῃ.\nστῆ δὲ κατʼ ἀντίθυρον κλισίης Ὀδυσῆϊ φανεῖσα·\nοὐδʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος ἴδεν ἀντίον οὐδʼ ἐνόησεν,\nοὐ γάρ πω πάντεσσι θεοὶ φαίνονται ἐναργεῖς,\nἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεύς τε κύνες τε ἴδον, καί ῥʼ οὐχ ὑλάοντο\nκνυζηθμῷ δʼ ἑτέρωσε διὰ σταθμοῖο φόβηθεν.\nἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ ὀφρύσι νεῦσε· νόησε δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἐκ δʼ ἦλθεν μεγάροιο παρὲκ μέγα τειχίον αὐλῆς,\nστῆ δὲ πάροιθʼ αὐτῆς· τὸν δὲ προσέειπεν Ἀθήνη·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ.\nἤδη νῦν σῷ παιδὶ ἔπος φάο μηδʼ ἐπίκευθε,\nὡς ἂν μνηστῆρσιν θάνατον καὶ κῆρʼ ἀραρόντε\nἔρχησθον προτὶ ἄστυ περικλυτόν· οὐδʼ ἐγὼ αὐτὴ\nδηρὸν ἀπὸ σφῶϊν ἔσομαι μεμαυῖα μάχεσθαι.\nἦ καὶ χρυσείῃ ῥάβδῳ ἐπεμάσσατʼ Ἀθήνη.\nφᾶρος μέν οἱ πρῶτον ἐϋπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα\nθῆκʼ ἀμφὶ στήθεσσι, δέμας δʼ ὤφελλε καὶ ἥβην.\nἂψ δὲ μελαγχροιὴς γένετο, γναθμοὶ δὲ τάνυσθεν,\nκυάνεαι δʼ ἐγένοντο γενειάδες ἀμφὶ γένειον.\nἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς ἔρξασα πάλιν κίεν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἤϊεν ἐς κλισίην· θάμβησε δέ μιν φίλος υἱός,\nταρβήσας δʼ ἑτέρωσε βάλʼ ὄμματα, μὴ θεὸς εἴη,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἀλλοῖός μοι, ξεῖνε, φάνης νέον ἠὲ πάροιθεν,\nἄλλα δὲ εἵματʼ ἔχεις, καί τοι χρὼς οὐκέθʼ ὁμοῖος.\nἦ μάλα τις θεός ἐσσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν·\nἀλλʼ ἵληθʼ, ἵνα τοι κεχαρισμένα δώομεν ἱρὰ\nἠδὲ χρύσεα δῶρα, τετυγμένα· φείδεο δʼ ἡμέων\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nοὔ τίς τοι θεός εἰμι· τί μʼ ἀθανάτοισιν ἐΐσκεις;\nἀλλὰ πατὴρ τεός εἰμι, τοῦ εἵνεκα σὺ στεναχίζων\nπάσχεις ἄλγεα πολλά, βίας ὑποδέγμενος ἀνδρῶν.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας υἱὸν κύσε, κὰδ δὲ παρειῶν\nδάκρυον ἧκε χαμᾶζε· πάρος δʼ ἔχε νωλεμὲς αἰεί.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ, οὐ γάρ πω ἐπείθετο ὃν πατέρʼ εἶναι,\nἐξαῦτίς μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·\nοὐ σύ γʼ Ὀδυσσεύς ἐσσι, πατὴρ ἐμός, ἀλλά με δαίμων\nθέλγει, ὄφρʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὀδυρόμενος στεναχίζω.\nοὐ γάρ πως ἂν θνητὸς ἀνὴρ τάδε μηχανόῳτο\nᾧ αὐτοῦ γε νόῳ, ὅτε μὴ θεὸς αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν\nῥηϊδίως ἐθέλων θείη νέον ἠὲ γέροντα.\nἦ γάρ τοι νέον ἦσθα γέρων καὶ ἀεικέα ἕσσο·\nνῦν δὲ θεοῖσιν ἔοικας, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, οὔ σε ἔοικε φίλον πατέρ ἔνδον ἐόντα\nοὔτε τι θαυμάζειν περιώσιον οὔτʼ ἀγάασθαι·\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τοι ἔτʼ ἄλλος ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἀλλʼ ὅδʼ ἐγὼ τοιόσδε, παθὼν κακά, πολλὰ δʼ ἀληθείς,\nἤλυθον εἰκοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nαὐτάρ τοι τόδε ἔργον Ἀθηναίης ἀγελείης,\nἥ τέ με τοῖον ἔθηκεν, ὅπως ἐθέλει, δύναται γάρ,\nἄλλοτε μὲν πτωχῷ ἐναλίγκιον, ἄλλοτε δʼ αὖτε\nἀνδρὶ νέῳ καὶ καλὰ περὶ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντι.\nῥηΐδιον δὲ θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,\nἠμὲν κυδῆναι θνητὸν βροτὸν ἠδὲ κακῶσαι.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ\nἀμφιχυθεὶς πατέρʼ ἐσθλὸν ὀδύρετο, δάκρυα λείβων,\nἀμφοτέροισι δὲ τοῖσιν ὑφʼ ἵμερος ὦρτο γόοιο·\nκλαῖον δὲ λιγέως, ἀδινώτερον ἤ τʼ οἰωνοί,\nφῆναι ἢ αἰγυπιοὶ γαμψώνυχες, οἷσί τε τέκνα\nἀγρόται ἐξείλοντο πάρος πετεηνὰ γενέσθαι·\nὣς ἄρα τοί γʼ ἐλεεινὸν ὑπʼ ὀφρύσι δάκρυον εἶβον.\nκαί νύ κʼ ὀδυρομένοισιν ἔδυ φάος ἠελίοιο,\nεἰ μὴ Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεεν ὃν πατέρʼ αἶψα·\nποίῃ γὰρ νῦν δεῦρο, πάτερ φίλε, νηΐ σε ναῦται\nἤγαγον εἰς Ἰθάκην; τίνες ἔμμεναι εὐχετόωντο;\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τί σε πεζὸν ὀΐομαι ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, τέκνον, ἀληθείην καταλέξω.\nΦαίηκές μʼ ἄγαγον ναυσίκλυτοι, οἵ τε καὶ ἄλλους\nἀνθρώπους πέμπουσιν, ὅτις σφέας εἰσαφίκηται·\nκαί μʼ εὕδοντʼ ἐν νηῒ θοῇ ἐπὶ πόντον ἄγοντες\nκάτθεσαν εἰς Ἰθάκην, ἔπορον δέ μοι ἀγλαὰ δῶρα,\nχαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά θʼ ὑφαντήν.\nκαὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν σπήεσσι θεῶν ἰότητι κέονται·\nνῦν αὖ δεῦρʼ ἱκόμην ὑποθημοσύνῃσιν Ἀθήνης,\nὄφρα κε δυσμενέεσσι φόνου πέρι βουλεύσωμεν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι μνηστῆρας ἀριθμήσας κατάλεξον,\nὄφρʼ εἰδέω ὅσσοι τε καὶ οἵ τινες ἀνέρες εἰσί·\nκαί κεν ἐμὸν κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονα μερμηρίξας\nφράσσομαι, ἤ κεν νῶϊ δυνησόμεθʼ ἀντιφέρεσθαι\nμούνω ἄνευθʼ ἄλλων, ἦ καὶ διζησόμεθʼ ἄλλους.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nὦ πάτερ, ἦ τοι σεῖο μέγα κλέος αἰὲν ἄκουον,\nχεῖράς τʼ αἰχμητὴν ἔμεναι καὶ ἐπίφρονα βουλήν·\nἀλλὰ λίην μέγα εἶπες· ἄγη μʼ ἔχει· οὐδέ κεν εἴη\nἄνδρε δύω πολλοῖσι καὶ ἰφθίμοισι μάχεσθαι.\nμνηστήρων δʼ οὔτʼ ἂρ δεκὰς ἀτρεκὲς οὔτε δύʼ οἶαι,\nἀλλὰ πολὺ πλέονες· τάχα δʼ εἴσεαι ἐνθάδʼ ἀριθμόν.\nἐκ μὲν Δουλιχίοιο δύω καὶ πεντήκοντα\nκοῦροι κεκριμένοι, ἓξ δὲ δρηστῆρες ἕπονται·\nἐκ δὲ Σάμης πίσυρές τε καὶ εἴκοσι φῶτες ἔασιν,\nἐκ δὲ Ζακύνθου ἔασιν ἐείκοσι κοῦροι Ἀχαιῶν,\nἐκ δʼ αὐτῆς Ἰθάκης δυοκαίδεκα πάντες ἄριστοι,\nκαί σφιν ἅμʼ ἐστὶ Μέδων κῆρυξ καὶ θεῖος ἀοιδὸς\nκαὶ δοιὼ θεράποντε, δαήμονε δαιτροσυνάων.\nτῶν εἴ κεν πάντων ἀντήσομεν ἔνδον ἐόντων,\nμὴ πολύπικρα καὶ αἰνὰ βίας ἀποτίσεαι ἐλθών.\nἀλλὰ σύ γʼ, εἰ δύνασαί τινʼ ἀμύντορα μερμηρίξαι,\nφράζευ, ὅ κέν τις νῶϊν ἀμύνοι πρόφρονι θυμῷ.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγὼν ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο καί μευ ἄκουσον·\nκαὶ φράσαι ἤ κεν νῶϊν Ἀθήνη σὺν Διὶ πατρὶ\nἀρκέσει, ἦέ τινʼ ἄλλον ἀμύντορα μερμηρίξω.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἐσθλώ τοι τούτω γʼ ἐπαμύντορε, τοὺς ἀγορεύεις,\nὕψι περ ἐν νεφέεσσι καθημένω· ὥ τε καὶ ἄλλοις\nἀνδράσι τε κρατέουσι καὶ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nοὐ μέν τοι κείνω γε πολὺν χρόνον ἀμφὶς ἔσεσθον\nφυλόπιδος κρατερῆς, ὁπότε μνηστῆρσι καὶ ἡμῖν\nἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσι μένος κρίνηται Ἄρηος.\nἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν νῦν ἔρχευ ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν\nοἴκαδε, καὶ μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ὁμίλει·\nαὐτὰρ ἐμὲ προτὶ ἄστυ συβώτης ὕστερον ἄξει,\nπτωχῷ λευγαλέῳ ἐναλίγκιον ἠδὲ γέροντι.\nεἰ δέ μʼ ἀτιμήσουσι δόμον κάτα, σὸν δὲ φίλον κῆρ\nτετλάτω ἐν στήθεσσι κακῶς πάσχοντος ἐμεῖο,\nἤν περ καὶ διὰ δῶμα ποδῶν ἕλκωσι θύραζε\nἢ βέλεσι βάλλωσι· σὺ δʼ εἰσορόων ἀνέχεσθαι.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι παύεσθαι ἀνωγέμεν ἀφροσυνάων,\nμειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι παραυδῶν· οἱ δέ τοι οὔ τι\nπείσονται· δὴ γάρ σφι παρίσταται αἴσιμον ἦμαρ.\nἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·\nὁππότε κεν πολύβουλος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θῇσιν Ἀθήνη,\nνεύσω μέν τοι ἐγὼ κεφαλῇ, σὺ δʼ ἔπειτα νοήσας\nὅσσα τοι ἐν μεγάροισιν Ἀρήϊα τεύχεα κεῖται\nἐς μυχὸν ὑψηλοῦ θαλάμου καταθεῖναι ἀείρας\nπάντα μάλʼ· αὐτὰρ μνηστῆρας μαλακοῖς ἐπέεσσι\nπαρφάσθαι, ὅτε κέν σε μεταλλῶσιν ποθέοντες·\nἐκ καπνοῦ κατέθηκʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τοῖσιν ἐῴκει\nοἷά ποτε Τροίηνδε κιὼν κατέλειπεν Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἀλλὰ κατῄκισται, ὅσσον πυρὸς ἵκετʼ ἀϋτμή.\nπρὸς δʼ ἔτι καὶ τόδε μεῖζον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε Κρονίων,\nμή πως οἰνωθέντες, ἔριν στήσαντες ἐν ὑμῖν,\nἀλλήλους τρώσητε καταισχύνητέ τε δαῖτα\nκαὶ μνηστύν· αὐτὸς γὰρ ἐφέλκεται ἄνδρα σίδηρος.\nνῶϊν δʼ οἴοισιν δύο φάσγανα καὶ δύο δοῦρε\nκαλλιπέειν καὶ δοιὰ βοάγρια χερσὶν ἑλέσθαι,\nὡς ἂν ἐπιθύσαντες ἑλοίμεθα· τοὺς δέ κʼ ἔπειτα\nΠαλλὰς Ἀθηναίη θέλξει καὶ μητίετα Ζεύς.\nἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·\nεἰ ἐτεόν γʼ ἐμός ἐσσι καὶ αἵματος ἡμετέροιο,\nμή τις ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀκουσάτω ἔνδον ἐόντος,\nμήτʼ οὖν Λαέρτης ἴστω τό γε μήτε συβώτης\nμήτε τις οἰκήων μήτʼ αὐτὴ Πηνελόπεια,\nἀλλʼ οἶοι σύ τʼ ἐγώ τε γυναικῶν γνώομεν ἰθύν·\nκαί κέ τεο δμώων ἀνδρῶν ἔτι πειρηθεῖμεν,\nἠμὲν ὅπου τις νῶϊ τίει καὶ δείδιε θυμῷ,\nἠδʼ ὅτις οὐκ ἀλέγει, σὲ δʼ ἀτιμᾷ τοῖον ἐόντα.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσεφώνεε φαίδιμος υἱός\nὦ πάτερ, ἦ τοι ἐμὸν θυμὸν καὶ ἔπειτά γʼ, ὀΐω,\nγνώσεαι· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι χαλιφροσύναι γέ μʼ ἔχουσιν·\nἀλλʼ οὔ τοι τόδε κέρδος ἐγὼν ἔσσεσθαι ὀΐω\nἡμῖν ἀμφοτέροισι· σὲ δὲ φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.\nδηθὰ γὰρ αὔτως εἴσῃ ἑκάστου πειρητίζων,\nἔργα μετερχόμενος· τοὶ δʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἕκηλοι\nχρήματα δαρδάπτουσιν ὑπέρβιον οὐδʼ ἔπι φειδώ.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοί σε γυναῖκας ἐγὼ δεδάασθαι ἄνωγα,\nαἵ τέ σʼ ἀτιμάζουσι καὶ αἳ νηλείτιδές εἰσιν·\nἀνδρῶν δʼ οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε κατὰ σταθμοὺς ἐθέλοιμι\nἡμέας πειράζειν, ἀλλʼ ὕστερα ταῦτα πένεσθαι,\nεἰ ἐτεόν γέ τι οἶσθα Διὸς τέρας αἰγιόχοιο.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτʼ Ἰθάκηνδε κατήγετο νηῦς εὐεργής,\nἣ φέρε Τηλέμαχον Πυλόθεν καὶ πάντας ἑταίρους.\nοἱ δʼ ὅτε δὴ λιμένος πολυβενθέος ἐντὸς ἵκοντο,\nνῆα μὲν οἵ γε μέλαιναν ἐπʼ ἠπείροιο ἔρυσσαν,\nτεύχεα δέ σφʼ ἀπένεικαν ὑπέρθυμοι θεράποντες,\nαὐτίκα δʼ ἐς Κλυτίοιο φέρον περικαλλέα δῶρα.\nαὐτὰρ κήρυκα πρόεσαν δόμον εἰς Ὀδυσῆος,\nἀγγελίην ἐρέοντα περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,\nοὕνεκα Τηλέμαχος μὲν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ, νῆα δʼ ἀνώγει\nἄστυδʼ ἀποπλείειν, ἵνα μὴ δείσασʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nἰφθίμη βασίλεια τέρεν κατὰ δάκρυον εἴβοι\nτὼ δὲ συναντήτην κῆρυξ καὶ δῖος ὑφορβὸς\nτῆς αὐτῆς ἕνεκʼ ἀγγελίης, ἐρέοντε γυναικί.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἵκοντο δόμον θείου βασιλῆος,\nκῆρυξ μέν ῥα μέσῃσι μετὰ δμῳῇσιν ἔειπεν·\nἤδη τοι, βασίλεια, φίλος πάϊς εἰλήλουθε.\nΠηνελοπείῃ δʼ εἶπε συβώτης ἄγχι παραστὰς\nπάνθʼ ὅσα οἱ φίλος υἱὸς ἀνώγει μυθήσασθαι.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πᾶσαν ἐφημοσύνην ἀπέειπε,\nβῆ ῥʼ ἴμεναι μεθʼ ὕας, λίπε δʼ ἕρκεά τε μέγαρόν τε.\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ἀκάχοντο κατήφησάν τʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,\nἐκ δʼ ἦλθον μεγάροιο παρὲκ μέγα τειχίον αὐλῆς,\nαὐτοῦ δὲ προπάροιθε θυράων ἑδριόωντο.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρύμαχος, Πολύβου πάϊς, ἦρχʼ ἀγορεύειν·\nὦ φίλοι, ἦ μέγα ἔργον ὑπερφιάλως τετέλεσται\nΤηλεμάχῳ ὁδὸς ἥδε· φάμεν δέ οἱ οὐ τελέεσθαι.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῆα μέλαιναν ἐρύσσομεν ἥ τις ἀρίστη,\nἐς δʼ ἐρέτας ἁλιῆας ἀγείρομεν, οἵ κε τάχιστα\nκείνοις ἀγγείλωσι θοῶς οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι.\nοὔ πω πᾶν εἴρηθʼ, ὅτʼ ἄρʼ Ἀμφίνομος ἴδε νῆα,\nστρεφθεὶς ἐκ χώρης, λιμένος πολυβενθέος ἐντός,\nἱστία τε στέλλοντας ἐρετμά τε χερσὶν ἔχοντας.\nἡδὺ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐκγελάσας μετεφώνεεν οἷς ἑτάροισι·\nμή τινʼ ἔτʼ ἀγγελίην ὀτρύνομεν· οἵδε γὰρ ἔνδον.\nἤ τίς σφιν τόδʼ ἔειπε θεῶν, ἢ εἴσιδον αὐτοὶ\nνῆα παρερχομένην, τὴν δʼ οὐκ ἐδύναντο κιχῆναι.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἀνστάντες ἔβαν ἐπὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης,\nαἶψα δὲ νῆα μέλαιναν ἐπʼ ἠπείροιο ἔρυσσαν,\nτεύχεα δέ σφʼ ἀπένεικαν ὑπέρθυμοι θεράποντες.\nαὐτοὶ δʼ εἰς ἀγορὴν κίον ἀθρόοι, οὐδέ τινʼ ἄλλον\nεἴων οὔτε νέων μεταΐζειν οὔτε γερόντων.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·\nὢ πόποι, ὡς τόνδʼ ἄνδρα θεοὶ κακότητος ἔλυσαν.\nἤματα μὲν σκοποὶ ἷζον ἐπʼ ἄκριας ἠνεμοέσσας\nαἰὲν ἐπασσύτεροι· ἅμα δʼ ἠελίῳ καταδύντι\nοὔ ποτʼ ἐπʼ ἠπείρου νύκτʼ ἄσαμεν, ἀλλʼ ἐνὶ πόντῳ\nνηῒ θοῇ πλείοντες ἐμίμνομεν Ἠῶ δῖαν,\nΤηλέμαχον λοχόωντες, ἵνα φθίσωμεν ἑλόντες\nαὐτόν· τὸν δʼ ἄρα τῆος ἀπήγαγεν οἴκαδε δαίμων,\nἡμεῖς δʼ ἐνθάδε οἱ φραζώμεθα λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον\nΤηλεμάχῳ, μηδʼ ἧμας ὑπεκφύγοι· οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω\nτούτου γε ζώοντος ἀνύσσεσθαι τάδε ἔργα.\nαὐτὸς μὲν γὰρ ἐπιστήμων βουλῇ τε νόῳ τε,\nλαοὶ δʼ οὐκέτι πάμπαν ἐφʼ ἡμῖν ἦρα φέρουσιν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγετε, πρὶν κεῖνον ὁμηγυρίσασθαι Ἀχαιοὺς\nεἰς ἀγορήν—οὐ γάρ τι μεθησέμεναί μιν ὀΐω,\nἀλλʼ ἀπομηνίσει, ἐρέει δʼ ἐν πᾶσιν ἀναστὰς\nοὕνεκά οἱ φόνον αἰπὺν ἐράπτομεν οὐδʼ ἐκίχημεν·\nοἱ δʼ οὐκ αἰνήσουσιν ἀκούοντες κακὰ ἔργα·\nμή τι κακὸν ῥέξωσι καὶ ἡμέας ἐξελάσωσι\nγαίης ἡμετέρης, ἄλλων δʼ ἀφικώμεθα δῆμον·\nἀλλὰ φθέωμεν ἑλόντες ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ νόσφι πόληος\nἢ ἐν ὁδῷ· βίοτον δʼ αὐτοὶ καὶ κτήματʼ ἔχωμεν,\nδασσάμενοι κατὰ μοῖραν ἐφʼ ἡμέας, οἰκία δʼ αὖτε\nκείνου μητέρι δοῖμεν ἔχειν ἠδʼ ὅστις ὀπυίοι.\nεἰ δʼ ὑμῖν ὅδε μῦθος ἀφανδάνει, ἀλλὰ βόλεσθε\nαὐτόν τε ζώειν καὶ ἔχειν πατρώϊα πάντα,\nμή οἱ χρήματʼ ἔπειτα ἅλις θυμηδέʼ ἔδωμεν\nἐνθάδʼ ἀγειρόμενοι, ἀλλʼ ἐκ μεγάροιο ἕκαστος\nμνάσθω ἐέδνοισιν διζήμενος· ἡ δέ κʼ ἔπειτα\nγήμαιθʼ ὅς κε πλεῖστα πόροι καὶ μόρσιμος ἔλθοι.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀμφίνομος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε,\nΝίσου φαίδιμος υἱός, Ἀρητιάδαο ἄνακτος,\nὅς ῥʼ ἐκ Δουλιχίου πολυπύρου, ποιήεντος,\nἡγεῖτο μνηστῆρσι, μάλιστα δὲ Πηνελοπείῃ\nἥνδανε μύθοισι· φρεσὶ γὰρ κέχρητʼ ἀγαθῇσιν·\nὅ σφιν ἐϋφρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε κατακτείνειν ἐθέλοιμι\nΤηλέμαχον· δεινὸν δὲ γένος βασιλήϊόν ἐστιν\nκτείνειν· ἀλλὰ πρῶτα θεῶν εἰρώμεθα βουλάς.\nεἰ μέν κʼ αἰνήσωσι Διὸς μεγάλοιο θέμιστες,\nαὐτός τε κτενέω τούς τʼ ἄλλους πάντας ἀνώξω·\nεἰ δέ κʼ ἀποτρωπῶσι θεοί, παύσασθαι ἄνωγα.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀμφίνομος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.\nαὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀνστάντες ἔβαν δόμον εἰς Ὀδυσῆος,\nἐλθόντες δὲ καθῖζον ἐπὶ ξεστοῖσι θρόνοισιν.\nἡ δʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,\nμνηστήρεσσι φανῆναι ὑπέρβιον ὕβριν ἔχουσι.\nπεύθετο γὰρ οὗ παιδὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὄλεθρον·\nκῆρυξ γάρ οἱ ἔειπε Μέδων, ὃς ἐπεύθετο βουλάς.\nβῆ δʼ ἰέναι μέγαρόνδε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξίν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ μνηστῆρας ἀφίκετο δῖα γυναικῶν,\nστῆ ῥα παρὰ σταθμὸν τέγεος πύκα ποιητοῖο,\nἄντα παρειάων σχομένη λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα,\nἈντίνοον δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nἈντίνοʼ, ὕβριν ἔχων, κακομήχανε, καὶ δέ σέ φασιν\nἐν δήμῳ Ἰθάκης μεθʼ ὁμήλικας ἔμμεν ἄριστον\nβουλῇ καὶ μύθοισι· σὺ δʼ οὐκ ἄρα τοῖος ἔησθα.\nμάργε, τίη δὲ σὺ Τηλεμάχῳ θάνατόν τε μόρον τε\nῥάπτεις, οὐδʼ ἱκέτας ἐμπάζεαι, οἷσιν ἄρα Ζεὺς\nμάρτυρος; οὐδʼ ὁσίη κακὰ ῥάπτειν ἀλλήλοισιν.\nἦ οὐκ οἶσθʼ ὅτε δεῦρο πατὴρ τεὸς ἵκετο φεύγων,\nδῆμον ὑποδείσας; δὴ γὰρ κεχολώατο λίην,\nοὕνεκα ληϊστῆρσιν ἐπισπόμενος Ταφίοισιν\nἤκαχε Θεσπρωτούς· οἱ δʼ ἡμῖν ἄρθμιοι ἦσαν·\nτόν ῥʼ ἔθελον φθῖσαι καὶ ἀπορραῖσαι φίλον ἦτορ\nἠδὲ κατὰ ζωὴν φαγέειν μενοεικέα πολλήν·\nἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατέρυκε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱεμένους περ.\nτοῦ νῦν οἶκον ἄτιμον ἔδεις, μνάᾳ δὲ γυναῖκα\nπαῖδά τʼ ἀποκτείνεις, ἐμὲ δὲ μεγάλως ἀκαχίζεις·\nἀλλά σε παύσασθαι κέλομαι καὶ ἀνωγέμεν ἄλλους.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύμαχος, Πολύβου πάϊς, ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nκούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρον Πηνελόπεια,\nθάρσει· μή τοι ταῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι μελόντων.\nοὐκ ἔσθʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ οὐδʼ ἔσσεται οὐδὲ γένηται,\nὅς κεν Τηλεμάχῳ σῷ υἱέϊ χεῖρας ἐποίσει\nζώοντός γʼ ἐμέθεν καὶ ἐπὶ χθονὶ δερκομένοιο.\nὧδε γὰρ ἐξερέω, καὶ μὴν τετελεσμένον ἔσται·\nαἶψά οἱ αἷμα κελαινὸν ἐρωήσει περὶ δουρὶ\nἡμετέρῳ, ἐπεὶ ἦ καὶ ἐμὲ πτολίπορθος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nπολλάκι γούνασιν οἷσιν ἐφεσσάμενος κρέας ὀπτὸν\nἐν χείρεσσιν ἔθηκεν, ἐπέσχε τε οἶνον ἐρυθρόν.\nτῷ μοι Τηλέμαχος πάντων πολὺ φίλτατός ἐστιν\nἀνδρῶν, οὐδέ τί μιν θάνατον τρομέεσθαι ἄνωγα\nἔκ γε μνηστήρων· θεόθεν δʼ οὐκ ἔστʼ ἀλέασθαι.\nὣς φάτο θαρσύνων, τῷ δʼ ἤρτυεν αὐτὸς ὄλεθρον.\nἡ μὲν ἄρʼ εἰσαναβᾶσʼ ὑπερώϊα σιγαλόεντα\nκλαῖεν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα, φίλον πόσιν, ὄφρα οἱ ὕπνον\nἡδὺν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι βάλε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.\nἑσπέριος δʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ καὶ υἱέϊ δῖος ὑφορβὸς\nἤλυθεν· οἱ δʼ ἄρα δόρπον ἐπισταδὸν ὡπλίζοντο,\nσῦν ἱερεύσαντες ἐνιαύσιον. αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη,\nἄγχι παρισταμένη, Λαερτιάδην Ὀδυσῆα\nῥάβδῳ πεπληγυῖα πάλιν ποίησε γέροντα,\nλυγρὰ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσε περὶ χροΐ, μή ἑ συβώτης\nγνοίη ἐσάντα ἰδὼν καὶ ἐχέφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ\nἔλθοι ἀπαγγέλλων μηδὲ φρεσὶν εἰρύσσαιτο.\nτὸν καὶ Τηλέμαχος πρότερος πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·\nἦλθες, δῖʼ Εὔμαιε. τί δὴ κλέος ἔστʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ;\nἦ ῥʼ ἤδη μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες ἔνδον ἔασιν\nἐκ λόχου, ἦ ἔτι μʼ αὖτʼ εἰρύαται οἴκαδʼ ἰόντα;\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nοὐκ ἔμελέν μοι ταῦτα μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι\nἄστυ καταβλώσκοντα· τάχιστά με θυμὸς ἀνώγει\nἀγγελίην εἰπόντα πάλιν δεῦρʼ ἀπονέεσθαι.\nὡμήρησε δέ μοι παρʼ ἑταίρων ἄγγελος ὠκύς,\nκῆρυξ, ὃς δὴ πρῶτος ἔπος σῇ μητρὶ ἔειπεν.\nἄλλο δέ τοι τό γε οἶδα· τὸ γὰρ ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν.\nἤδη ὑπὲρ πόλιος, ὅθι θʼ Ἕρμαιος λόφος ἐστίν,\nἦα κιών, ὅτε νῆα θοὴν ἰδόμην κατιοῦσαν\nἐς λιμένʼ ἡμέτερον· πολλοὶ δʼ ἔσαν ἄνδρες ἐν αὐτῇ,\nβεβρίθει δὲ σάκεσσι καὶ ἔγχεσιν ἀμφιγύοισι·\nκαὶ σφέας ὠΐσθην τοὺς ἔμμεναι, οὐδέ τι οἶδα.\nὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο\nἐς πατέρʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδών, ἀλέεινε δʼ ὑφορβόν.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν παύσαντο πόνου τετύκοντό τε δαῖτα,\nδαίνυντʼ, οὐδέ τι θυμὸς ἐδεύετο δαιτὸς ἐΐσης.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nκοίτου τε μνήσαντο καὶ ὕπνου δῶρον ἕλοντο.\n\n### Book 17\n\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nδὴ τότʼ ἔπειθʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα\nΤηλέμαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,\nεἵλετο δʼ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος, ὅ οἱ παλάμηφιν ἀρήρει,\nἄστυδε ἱέμενος, καὶ ἑὸν προσέειπε συβώτην·\nἄττʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼν εἶμʼ ἐς πόλιν, ὄφρα με μήτηρ\nὄψεται· οὐ γάρ μιν πρόσθεν παύσεσθαι ὀΐω\nκλαυθμοῦ τε στυγεροῖο γόοιό τε δακρυόεντος,\nπρίν γʼ αὐτόν με ἴδηται· ἀτὰρ σοί γʼ ὧδʼ ἐπιτέλλω.\nτὸν ξεῖνον δύστηνον ἄγʼ ἐς πόλιν, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἐκεῖθι\nδαῖτα πτωχεύῃ· δώσει δέ οἱ ὅς κʼ ἐθέλῃσι\nπύρνον καὶ κοτύλην· ἐμὲ δʼ οὔ πως ἔστιν ἅπαντας\nἀνθρώπους ἀνέχεσθαι, ἔχοντά περ ἄλγεα θυμῷ·\nὁ ξεῖνος δʼ εἴ περ μάλα μηνίει, ἄλγιον αὐτῷ\nἔσσεται· ἦ γὰρ ἐμοὶ φίλʼ ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ φίλος, οὐδέ τοι αὐτὸς ἐρύκεσθαι μενεαίνω·\nπτωχῷ βέλτερόν ἐστι κατὰ πτόλιν ἠὲ κατʼ ἀγροὺς\nδαῖτα πτωχεύειν· δώσει δέ μοι ὅς κʼ ἐθέλῃσιν.\nοὐ γὰρ ἐπὶ σταθμοῖσι μένειν ἔτι τηλίκος εἰμί,\nὥστʼ ἐπιτειλαμένῳ σημάντορι πάντα πιθέσθαι.\nἀλλʼ ἔρχευ· ἐμὲ δʼ ἄξει ἀνὴρ ὅδε, τὸν σὺ κελεύεις,\nαὐτίκʼ ἐπεί κε πυρὸς θερέω ἀλέη τε γένηται.\nαἰνῶς γὰρ τάδε εἵματʼ ἔχω κακά· μή με δαμάσσῃ\nστίβη ὑπηοίη· ἕκαθεν δέ τε ἄστυ φάτʼ εἶναι.\nὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ διὰ σταθμοῖο βεβήκει,\nκραιπνὰ ποσὶ προβιβάς, κακὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσι φύτευεν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἵκανε δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,\nἔγχος μέν ῥʼ ἔστησε φέρων πρὸς κίονα μακρήν,\nαὐτὸς δʼ εἴσω ἴεν καὶ ὑπέρβη λάϊνον οὐδόν.\nτὸν δὲ πολὺ πρώτη εἶδε τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια,\nκώεα καστορνῦσα θρόνοις ἔνι δαιδαλέοισι,\nδακρύσασα δʼ ἔπειτʼ ἰθὺς κίεν· ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἄλλαι\nδμῳαὶ Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος ἠγερέθοντο,\nκαὶ κύνεον ἀγαπαζόμεναι κεφαλήν τε καὶ ὤμους.\nἡ δʼ ἴεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,\nἈρτέμιδι ἰκέλη ἠὲ χρυσέῃ Ἀφροδίτῃ,\nἀμφὶ δὲ παιδὶ φίλῳ βάλε πήχεε δακρύσασα,\nκύσσε δέ μιν κεφαλήν τε καὶ ἄμφω φάεα καλά,\nκαί ῥʼ ὀλοφυρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἦλθες, Τηλέμαχε, γλυκερὸν φάος. οὔ σʼ ἔτʼ ἐγώ γε\nὄψεσθαι ἐφάμην, ἐπεὶ ᾤχεο νηῒ Πύλονδε\nλάθρη, ἐμεῦ ἀέκητι, φίλου μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουήν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι κατάλεξον ὅπως ἤντησας ὀπωπῆς.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nμῆτερ ἐμή, μή μοι γόον ὄρνυθι μηδέ μοι ἦτορ\nἐν στήθεσσιν ὄρινε φυγόντι περ αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον·\nἀλλʼ ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθʼ ἑλοῦσα,\nεἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν\nεὔχεο πᾶσι θεοῖσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας\nῥέξειν, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς ἄντιτα ἔργα τελέσσῃ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἀγορὴν ἐσελεύσομαι, ὄφρα καλέσσω\nξεῖνον, ὅτις μοι κεῖθεν ἅμʼ ἕσπετο δεῦρο κιόντι.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼ προὔπεμψα σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισι,\nΠείραιον δέ μιν ἠνώγεα προτὶ οἶκον ἄγοντα\nἐνδυκέως φιλέειν καὶ τιέμεν, εἰς ὅ κεν ἔλθω.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, τῇ δʼ ἄπτερος ἔπλετο μῦθος.\nἡ δʼ ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθʼ ἑλοῦσα,\nεὔχετο πᾶσι θεοῖσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας\nῥέξειν, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς ἄντιτα ἔργα τελέσσῃ.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει\nἔγχος ἔχων· ἅμα τῷ γε δύω κύνες ἀργοὶ ἕποντο.\nθεσπεσίην δʼ ἄρα τῷ γε χάριν κατέχευεν Ἀθήνη·\nτὸν δʼ ἄρα πάντες λαοὶ ἐπερχόμενον θηεῦντο.\nἀμφὶ δέ μιν μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες ἠγερέθοντο\nἔσθλʼ ἀγορεύοντες, κακὰ δὲ φρεσὶ βυσσοδόμευον.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ τῶν μὲν ἔπειτα ἀλεύατο πουλὺν ὅμιλον,\nἀλλʼ ἵνα Μέντωρ ἧστο καὶ Ἄντιφος ἠδʼ Ἁλιθέρσης,\nοἵ τε οἱ ἐξ ἀρχῆς πατρώϊοι ἦσαν ἑταῖροι,\nἔνθα καθέζετʼ ἰών· τοὶ δʼ ἐξερέεινον ἕκαστα.\nτοῖσι δὲ Πείραιος δουρικλυτὸς ἐγγύθεν ἦλθεν\nξεῖνον ἄγων ἀγορήνδε διὰ πτόλιν· οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτι δὴν\nΤηλέμαχος ξείνοιο ἑκὰς τράπετʼ, ἀλλὰ παρέστη.\nτὸν καὶ Πείραιος πρότερος πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, αἶψʼ ὄτρυνον ἐμὸν ποτὶ δῶμα γυναῖκας,\nὥς τοι δῶρʼ ἀποπέμψω, ἅ τοι Μενέλαος ἔδωκε.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nΠείραιʼ, οὐ γάρ τʼ ἴδμεν ὅπως ἔσται τάδε ἔργα.\nεἴ κεν ἐμὲ μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες ἐν μεγάροισι\nλάθρη κτείναντες πατρώϊα πάντα δάσωνται,\nαὐτὸν ἔχοντά σε βούλομʼ ἐπαυρέμεν, ἤ τινα τῶνδε·\nεἰ δέ κʼ ἐγὼ τούτοισι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φυτεύσω,\nδὴ τότε μοι χαίροντι φέρειν πρὸς δώματα χαίρων.\nὣς εἰπὼν ξεῖνον ταλαπείριον ἦγεν ἐς οἶκον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἵκοντο δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,\nχλαίνας μὲν κατέθεντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε,\nἐς δʼ ἀσαμίνθους βάντες ἐϋξέστας λούσαντο.\nτοὺς δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δμῳαὶ λοῦσαν καὶ χρῖσαν ἐλαίῳ,\nἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα χλαίνας οὔλας βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,\nἔκ ῥʼ ἀσαμίνθων βάντες ἐπὶ κλισμοῖσι καθῖζον.\nχέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα\nκαλῇ χρυσείῃ, ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,\nνίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.\nσῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,\nεἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων.\nμήτηρ δʼ ἀντίον ἷζε παρὰ σταθμὸν μεγάροιο\nκλισμῷ κεκλιμένη, λέπτʼ ἠλάκατα στρωφῶσα.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον,\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nτοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι ἐγὼν ὑπερώϊον εἰσαναβᾶσα\nλέξομαι εἰς εὐνήν, ἥ μοι στονόεσσα τέτυκται,\nαἰεὶ δάκρυσʼ ἐμοῖσι πεφυρμένη, ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nᾤχεθʼ ἅμʼ Ἀτρεΐδῃσιν ἐς Ἴλιον· οὐδέ μοι ἔτλης,\nπρὶν ἐλθεῖν μνηστῆρας ἀγήνορας ἐς τόδε δῶμα,\nνόστον σοῦ πατρὸς σάφα εἰπέμεν, εἴ που ἄκουσας.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, μῆτερ, ἀληθείην καταλέξω.\nᾠχόμεθʼ ἔς τε Πύλον καὶ Νέστορα, ποιμένα λαῶν·\nδεξάμενος δέ με κεῖνος ἐν ὑψηλοῖσι δόμοισιν\nἐνδυκέως ἐφίλει, ὡς εἴ τε πατὴρ ἑὸν υἱὸν\nἐλθόντα χρόνιον νέον ἄλλοθεν· ὣς ἐμὲ κεῖνος\nἐνδυκέως ἐκόμιζε σὺν υἱάσι κυδαλίμοισιν.\nαὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος οὔ ποτʼ ἔφασκεν,\nζωοῦ οὐδὲ θανόντος, ἐπιχθονίων τευ ἀκοῦσαι·\nἀλλά μʼ ἐς Ἀτρεΐδην, δουρικλειτὸν Μενέλαον,\nἵπποισι προὔπεμψε καὶ ἅρμασι κολλητοῖσιν.\nἔνθʼ ἴδον Ἀργείην Ἑλένην, ἧς εἵνεκα πολλὰ\nἈργεῖοι Τρῶές τε θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησαν.\nεἴρετο δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος\nὅττευ χρηΐζων ἱκόμην Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τῷ πᾶσαν ἀληθείην κατέλεξα·\nκαὶ τότε δή με ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ κρατερόφρονος ἀνδρὸς ἐν εὐνῇ\nἤθελον εὐνηθῆναι, ἀνάλκιδες αὐτοὶ ἐόντες.\nὡς δʼ ὁπότʼ ἐν ξυλόχῳ ἔλαφος κρατεροῖο λέοντος\nνεβροὺς κοιμήσασα νεηγενέας γαλαθηνοὺς\nκνημοὺς ἐξερέῃσι καὶ ἄγκεα ποιήεντα\nβοσκομένη, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα ἑὴν εἰσήλυθεν εὐνήν,\nἀμφοτέροισι δὲ τοῖσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφῆκεν,\nὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κείνοισιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφήσει.\nαἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,\nτοῖος ἐὼν οἷός ποτʼ ἐϋκτιμένῃ ἐνὶ Λέσβῳ\nἐξ ἔριδος Φιλομηλεΐδῃ ἐπάλαισεν ἀναστάς,\nκὰδ δʼ ἔβαλε κρατερῶς, κεχάροντο δὲ πάντες Ἀχαιοί,\nτοῖος ἐὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμιλήσειεν Ὀδυσσεύς·\nπάντες κʼ ὠκύμοροί τε γενοίατο πικρόγαμοί τε.\nταῦτα δʼ ἅ μʼ εἰρωτᾷς καὶ λίσσεαι, οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε\nἄλλα παρὲξ εἴποιμι παρακλιδὸν οὐδʼ ἀπατήσω,\nἀλλὰ τὰ μέν μοι ἔειπε γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής,\nτῶν οὐδέν τοι ἐγὼ κρύψω ἔπος οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω.\nφῆ μιν ὅ γʼ ἐν νήσῳ ἰδέειν κρατέρʼ ἄλγεʼ ἔχοντα,\nνύμφης ἐν μεγάροισι Καλυψοῦς, ἥ μιν ἀνάγκῃ\nἴσχει· ὁ δʼ οὐ δύναται ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.\nοὐ γάρ οἱ πάρα νῆες ἐπήρετμοι καὶ ἑταῖροι,\nοἵ κέν μιν πέμποιεν ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης\nὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀτρεΐδης, δουρικλειτὸς Μενέλαος.\nταῦτα τελευτήσας νεόμην· ἔδοσαν δέ μοι οὖρον\nἀθάνατοι, τοί μʼ ὦκα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔπεμψαν.\nὣς φάτο, τῇ δʼ ἄρα θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ὄρινε.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε Θεοκλύμενος θεοειδής·\nὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,\nἦ τοι ὅ γʼ οὐ σάφα οἶδεν, ἐμεῖο δὲ σύνθεο μῦθον·\nἀτρεκέως γάρ σοι μαντεύσομαι οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω·\nἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα θεῶν, ξενίη τε τράπεζα\nἱστίη τʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ἣν ἀφικάνω,\nὡς ἦ τοι Ὀδυσεὺς ἤδη ἐν πατρίδι γαίῃ,\nἥμενος ἢ ἕρπων, τάδε πευθόμενος κακὰ ἔργα,\nἔστιν, ἀτὰρ μνηστῆρσι κακὸν πάντεσσι φυτεύει·\nτοῖον ἐγὼν οἰωνὸν ἐϋσσέλμου ἐπὶ νηὸς\nἥμενος ἐφρασάμην καὶ Τηλεμάχῳ ἐγεγώνευν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nαἲ γὰρ τοῦτο, ξεῖνε, ἔπος τετελεσμένον εἴη·\nτῷ κε τάχα γνοίης φιλότητά τε πολλά τε δῶρα\nἐξ ἐμεῦ, ὡς ἄν τίς σε συναντόμενος μακαρίζοι.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nμνηστῆρες δὲ πάροιθεν Ὀδυσσῆος μεγάροιο\nδίσκοισιν τέρποντο καὶ αἰγανέῃσιν ἱέντες,\nἐν τυκτῷ δαπέδῳ, ὅθι περ πάρος ὕβριν ἔχοντες.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ δείπνηστος ἔην καὶ ἐπήλυθε μῆλα\nπάντοθεν ἐξ ἀγρῶν, οἱ δʼ ἤγαγον οἳ τὸ πάρος περ,\nκαὶ τότε δή σφιν ἔειπε Μέδων· ὃς γάρ ῥα μάλιστα\nἥνδανε κηρύκων, καί σφιν παρεγίγνετο δαιτί·\nκοῦροι, ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντες ἐτέρφθητε φρένʼ ἀέθλοις,\nἔρχεσθε πρὸς δώμαθʼ, ἵνʼ ἐντυνώμεθα δαῖτα·\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τι χέρειον ἐν ὥρῃ δεῖπνον ἑλέσθαι.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἀνστάντες ἔβαν πείθοντό τε μύθῳ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἵκοντο δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,\nχλαίνας μὲν κατέθεντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε,\nοἱ δʼ ἱέρευον ὄϊς μεγάλους καὶ πίονας αἶγας,\nἵρευον δὲ σύας σιάλους καὶ βοῦν ἀγελαίην,\nδαῖτʼ ἐντυνόμενοι. τοὶ δʼ ἐξ ἀγροῖο πόλινδε\nὠτρύνοντʼ Ὀδυσεύς τʼ ἰέναι καὶ δῖος ὑφορβός.\nτοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·\nξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ ἂρ δὴ ἔπειτα πόλινδʼ ἰέναι μενεαίνεις\nσήμερον, ὡς ἐπέτελλεν ἄναξ ἐμός—ἦ σʼ ἂν ἐγώ γε\nαὐτοῦ βουλοίμην σταθμῶν ῥυτῆρα λιπέσθαι·\nἀλλὰ τὸν αἰδέομαι καὶ δείδια, μή μοι ὀπίσσω\nνεικείῃ· χαλεπαὶ δέ τʼ ἀνάκτων εἰσὶν ὁμοκλαί—\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἴομεν· δὴ γὰρ μέμβλωκε μάλιστα\nἦμαρ, ἀτὰρ τάχα τοι ποτὶ ἕσπερα ῥίγιον ἔσται.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nγιγνώσκω, φρονέω· τά γε δὴ νοέοντι κελεύεις.\nἀλλʼ ἴομεν, σὺ δʼ ἔπειτα διαμπερὲς ἡγεμόνευε.\nδὸς δέ μοι, εἴ ποθί τοι ῥόπαλον τετμημένον ἐστίν,\nσκηρίπτεσθʼ, ἐπεὶ ἦ φατʼ ἀρισφαλέʼ ἔμμεναι οὐδόν.\nἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἀεικέα βάλλετο πήρην,\nπυκνὰ ῥωγαλέην· ἐν δὲ στρόφος ἦεν ἀορτήρ·\nΕὔμαιος δʼ ἄρα οἱ σκῆπτρον θυμαρὲς ἔδωκε.\nτὼ βήτην, σταθμὸν δὲ κύνες καὶ βώτορες ἄνδρες\nῥύατʼ ὄπισθε μένοντες· ὁ δʼ ἐς πόλιν ἦγεν ἄνακτα\nπτωχῷ λευγαλέῳ ἐναλίγκιον ἠδὲ γέροντι,\nσκηπτόμενον· τὰ δὲ λυγρὰ περὶ χροῒ εἵματα ἕστο.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ στείχοντες ὁδὸν κάτα παιπαλόεσσαν\nἄστεος ἐγγὺς ἔσαν καὶ ἐπὶ κρήνην ἀφίκοντο\nτυκτὴν καλλίροον, ὅθεν ὑδρεύοντο πολῖται,\nτὴν ποίησʼ Ἴθακος καὶ Νήριτος ἠδὲ Πολύκτωρ·\nἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρʼ αἰγείρων ὑδατοτρεφέων ἦν ἄλσος,\nπάντοσε κυκλοτερές, κατὰ δὲ ψυχρὸν ῥέεν ὕδωρ\nὑψόθεν ἐκ πέτρης· βωμὸς δʼ ἐφύπερθε τέτυκτο\nνυμφάων, ὅθι πάντες ἐπιρρέζεσκον ὁδῖται·\nἔνθα σφέας ἐκίχανʼ υἱὸς Δολίοιο Μελανθεὺς\nαἶγας ἄγων, αἳ πᾶσι μετέπρεπον αἰπολίοισι,\nδεῖπνον μνηστήρεσσι· δύω δʼ ἅμʼ ἕποντο νομῆες.\nτοὺς δὲ ἰδὼν νείκεσσεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν,\nἔκπαγλον καὶ ἀεικές· ὄρινε δὲ κῆρ Ὀδυσῆος·\nνῦν μὲν δὴ μάλα πάγχυ κακὸς κακὸν ἡγηλάζει,\nὡς αἰεὶ τὸν ὁμοῖον ἄγει θεὸς ὡς τὸν ὁμοῖον.\nπῇ δὴ τόνδε μολοβρὸν ἄγεις, ἀμέγαρτε συβῶτα,\nπτωχὸν ἀνιηρόν δαιτῶν ἀπολυμαντῆρα;\nὃς πολλῇς φλιῇσι παραστὰς θλίψεται ὤμους,\nαἰτίζων ἀκόλους, οὐκ ἄορας οὐδὲ λέβητας·\nτόν κʼ εἴ μοι δοίης σταθμῶν ῥυτῆρα γενέσθαι\nσηκοκόρον τʼ ἔμεναι θαλλόν τʼ ἐρίφοισι φορῆναι,\nκαί κεν ὀρὸν πίνων μεγάλην ἐπιγουνίδα θεῖτο.\nἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δὴ ἔργα κάκʼ ἔμμαθεν, οὐκ ἐθελήσει\nἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι, ἀλλὰ πτώσσων κατὰ δῆμον\nβούλεται αἰτίζων βόσκειν ἣν γαστέρʼ ἄναλτον.\nἀλλʼ ἔκ τοι ἐρέω, τὸ δὲ καὶ τετελεσμένον ἔσται·\nαἴ κʼ ἔλθῃ πρὸς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,\nπολλά οἱ ἀμφὶ κάρη σφέλα ἀνδρῶν ἐκ παλαμάων\nπλευραὶ ἀποτρίψουσι δόμον κάτα βαλλομένοιο.\nὣς φάτο, καὶ παριὼν λὰξ ἔνθορεν ἀφραδίῃσιν\nἰσχίῳ· οὐδέ μιν ἐκτὸς ἀταρπιτοῦ ἐστυφέλιξεν,\nἀλλʼ ἔμενʼ ἀσφαλέως· ὁ δὲ μερμήριξεν Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἠὲ μεταΐξας ῥοπάλῳ ἐκ θυμὸν ἕλοιτο,\nἦ πρὸς γῆν ἐλάσειε κάρη ἀμφουδὶς ἀείρας.\nἀλλʼ ἐπετόλμησε, φρεσὶ δʼ ἔσχετο· τὸν δὲ συβώτης\nνείκεσʼ ἐσάντα ἰδών, μέγα δʼ εὔξατο χεῖρας ἀνασχών·\nνύμφαι κρηναῖαι, κοῦραι Διός, εἴ ποτʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nὔμμʼ ἐπὶ μηρίʼ ἔκηε, καλύψας πίονι δημῷ,\nἀρνῶν ἠδʼ ἐρίφων, τόδε μοι κρηήνατʼ ἐέλδωρ,\nὡς ἔλθοι μὲν κεῖνος ἀνήρ, ἀγάγοι δέ ἑ δαίμων·\nτῷ κέ τοι ἀγλαΐας γε διασκεδάσειεν ἁπάσας,\nτὰς νῦν ὑβρίζων φορέεις, ἀλαλήμενος αἰεὶ\nἄστυ κάτʼ· αὐτὰρ μῆλα κακοὶ φθείρουσι νομῆες.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν·\nὢ πόποι, οἷον ἔειπε κύων ὀλοφώϊα εἰδώς,\nτόν ποτʼ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νηὸς ἐϋσσέλμοιο μελαίνης\nἄξω τῆλʼ Ἰθάκης, ἵνα μοι βίοτον πολὺν ἄλφοι.\nαἲ γὰρ Τηλέμαχον βάλοι ἀργυρότοξος Ἀπόλλων\nσήμερον ἐν μεγάροις, ἢ ὑπὸ μνηστῆρσι δαμείη,\nὡς Ὀδυσῆΐ γε τηλοῦ ἀπώλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.\nὣς εἰπὼν τοὺς μὲν λίπεν αὐτοῦ ἦκα κιόντας,\nαὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ, μάλα δʼ ὦκα δόμους ἵκανεν ἄνακτος.\nαὐτίκα δʼ εἴσω ἴεν, μετὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσι καθῖζεν,\nἀντίον Εὐρυμάχου· τὸν γὰρ φιλέεσκε μάλιστα.\nτῷ πάρα μὲν κρειῶν μοῖραν θέσαν οἳ πονέοντο,\nσῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα\nἔδμεναι. ἀγχίμολον δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ δῖος ὑφορβὸς\nστήτην ἐρχομένω, περὶ δέ σφεας ἤλυθʼ ἰωὴ\nφόρμιγγος γλαφυρῆς· ἀνὰ γάρ σφισι βάλλετʼ ἀείδειν\nΦήμιος· αὐτὰρ ὁ χειρὸς ἑλὼν προσέειπε συβώτην·\nΕὔμαιʼ, ἦ μάλα δὴ τάδε δώματα κάλʼ Ὀδυσῆος,\nῥεῖα δʼ ἀρίγνωτʼ ἐστὶ καὶ ἐν πολλοῖσιν ἰδέσθαι.\nἐξ ἑτέρων ἕτερʼ ἐστίν, ἐπήσκηται δέ οἱ αὐλὴ\nτοίχῳ καὶ θριγκοῖσι, θύραι δʼ εὐερκέες εἰσὶ\nδικλίδες· οὐκ ἄν τίς μιν ἀνὴρ ὑπεροπλίσσαιτο.\nγιγνώσκω δʼ ὅτι πολλοὶ ἐν αὐτῷ δαῖτα τίθενται\nἄνδρες, ἐπεὶ κνίση μὲν ἀνήνοθεν, ἐν δέ τε φόρμιγξ\nἠπύει, ἣν ἄρα δαιτὶ θεοὶ ποίησαν ἑταίρην.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nῥεῖʼ ἔγνως, ἐπεὶ οὐδὲ τά τʼ ἄλλα πέρ ἐσσʼ ἀνοήμων.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε δὴ φραζώμεθʼ ὅπως ἔσται τάδε ἔργα.\nἠὲ σὺ πρῶτος ἔσελθε δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,\nδύσεο δὲ μνηστῆρας, ἐγὼ δʼ ὑπολείψομαι αὐτοῦ·\nεἰ δʼ ἐθέλεις, ἐπίμεινον, ἐγὼ δʼ εἶμι προπάροιθε·\nμηδὲ σὺ δηθύνειν, μή τίς σʼ ἔκτοσθε νοήσας\nἢ βάλῃ ἢ ἐλάσῃ· τὰ δέ σε φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nγιγνώσκω, φρονέω· τά γε δὴ νοέοντι κελεύεις.\nἀλλʼ ἔρχευ προπάροιθεν, ἐγὼ δʼ ὑπολείψομαι αὐτοῦ.\nοὐ γάρ τι πληγέων ἀδαήμων οὐδὲ βολάων·\nτολμήεις μοι θυμός, ἐπεὶ κακὰ πολλὰ πέπονθα\nκύμασι καὶ πολέμῳ· μετὰ καὶ τόδε τοῖσι γενέσθω·\nγαστέρα δʼ οὔ πως ἔστιν ἀποκρύψαι μεμαυῖαν,\nοὐλομένην, ἣ πολλὰ κάκʼ ἀνθρώποισι δίδωσι,\nτῆς ἕνεκεν καὶ νῆες ἐΰζυγοι ὁπλίζονται\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον, κακὰ δυσμενέεσσι φέρουσαι.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·\nἂν δὲ κύων κεφαλήν τε καὶ οὔατα κείμενος ἔσχεν,\nἌργος, Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος, ὅν ῥά ποτʼ αὐτὸς\nθρέψε μέν, οὐδʼ ἀπόνητο, πάρος δʼ εἰς Ἴλιον ἱρὴν\nᾤχετο. τὸν δὲ πάροιθεν ἀγίνεσκον νέοι ἄνδρες\nαἶγας ἐπʼ ἀγροτέρας ἠδὲ πρόκας ἠδὲ λαγωούς·\nδὴ τότε κεῖτʼ ἀπόθεστος ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος,\nἐν πολλῇ κόπρῳ, ἥ οἱ προπάροιθε θυράων\nἡμιόνων τε βοῶν τε ἅλις κέχυτʼ, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἄγοιεν\nδμῶες Ὀδυσσῆος τέμενος μέγα κοπρήσοντες·\nἔνθα κύων κεῖτʼ Ἄργος, ἐνίπλειος κυνοραιστέων.\nδὴ τότε γʼ, ὡς ἐνόησεν Ὀδυσσέα ἐγγὺς ἐόντα,\nοὐρῇ μέν ῥʼ ὅ γʼ ἔσηνε καὶ οὔατα κάββαλεν ἄμφω,\nἆσσον δʼ οὐκέτʼ ἔπειτα δυνήσατο οἷο ἄνακτος\nἐλθέμεν· αὐτὰρ ὁ νόσφιν ἰδὼν ἀπομόρξατο δάκρυ,\nῥεῖα λαθὼν Εὔμαιον, ἄφαρ δʼ ἐρεείνετο μύθῳ·\nΕὔμαιʼ, ἦ μάλα θαῦμα, κύων ὅδε κεῖτʼ ἐνὶ κόπρῳ.\nκαλὸς μὲν δέμας ἐστίν, ἀτὰρ τόδε γʼ οὐ σάφα οἶδα,\nεἰ δὴ καὶ ταχὺς ἔσκε θέειν ἐπὶ εἴδεϊ τῷδε,\nἦ αὔτως οἷοί τε τραπεζῆες κύνες ἀνδρῶν\nγίγνοντʼ· ἀγλαΐης δʼ ἕνεκεν κομέουσιν ἄνακτες.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nκαὶ λίην ἀνδρός γε κύων ὅδε τῆλε θανόντος.\nεἰ τοιόσδʼ εἴη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ ἔργα,\nοἷόν μιν Τροίηνδε κιὼν κατέλειπεν Ὀδυσσεύς,\nαἶψά κε θηήσαιο ἰδὼν ταχυτῆτα καὶ ἀλκήν.\nοὐ μὲν γάρ τι φύγεσκε βαθείης βένθεσιν ὕλης\nκνώδαλον, ὅττι δίοιτο· καὶ ἴχνεσι γὰρ περιῄδη·\nνῦν δʼ ἔχεται κακότητι, ἄναξ δέ οἱ ἄλλοθι πάτρης\nὤλετο, τὸν δὲ γυναῖκες ἀκηδέες οὐ κομέουσι.\nδμῶες δʼ, εὖτʼ ἂν μηκέτʼ ἐπικρατέωσιν ἄνακτες,\nοὐκέτʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐθέλουσιν ἐναίσιμα ἐργάζεσθαι·\nἥμισυ γάρ τʼ ἀρετῆς ἀποαίνυται εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς\nἀνέρος, εὖτʼ ἄν μιν κατὰ δούλιον ἦμαρ ἕλῃσιν.\nὣς εἰπὼν εἰσῆλθε δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,\nβῆ δʼ ἰθὺς μεγάροιο μετὰ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς.\nἌργον δʼ αὖ κατὰ μοῖρʼ ἔλαβεν μέλανος θανάτοιο,\nαὐτίκʼ ἰδόντʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐεικοστῷ ἐνιαυτῷ.\nτὸν δὲ πολὺ πρῶτος ἴδε Τηλέμαχος θεοειδὴς\nἐρχόμενον κατὰ δῶμα συβώτην, ὦκα δʼ ἔπειτα\nνεῦσʼ ἐπὶ οἷ καλέσας· ὁ δὲ παπτήνας ἕλε δίφρον\nκείμενον, ἔνθα τε δαιτρὸς ἐφίζεσκε κρέα πολλὰ\nδαιόμενος μνηστῆρσι δόμον κάτα δαινυμένοισι·\nτὸν κατέθηκε φέρων πρὸς Τηλεμάχοιο τράπεζαν\nἀντίον, ἔνθα δʼ ἄρʼ αὐτὸς ἐφέζετο· τῷ δʼ ἄρα κῆρυξ\nμοῖραν ἑλὼν ἐτίθει κανέου τʼ ἐκ σῖτον ἀείρας.\nἀγχίμολον δὲ μετʼ αὐτὸν ἐδύσετο δώματʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nπτωχῷ λευγαλέῳ ἐναλίγκιος ἠδὲ γέροντι,\nσκηπτόμενος· τὰ δὲ λυγρὰ περὶ χροΐ εἵματα ἕστο.\nἷζε δʼ ἐπὶ μελίνου οὐδοῦ ἔντοσθε θυράων,\nκλινάμενος σταθμῷ κυπαρισσίνῳ, ὅν ποτε τέκτων\nξέσσεν ἐπισταμένως καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνεν.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἐπὶ οἷ καλέσας προσέειπε συβώτην,\nἄρτον τʼ οὖλον ἑλὼν περικαλλέος ἐκ κανέοιο\nκαὶ κρέας, ὥς οἱ χεῖρες ἐχάνδανον ἀμφιβαλόντι·\nδὸς τῷ ξείνῳ ταῦτα φέρων αὐτόν τε κέλευε\nαἰτίζειν μάλα πάντας ἐποιχόμενον μνηστῆρας·\nαἰδὼς δʼ οὐκ ἀγαθὴ κεχρημένῳ ἀνδρὶ παρεῖναι.\nὣς φάτο, βῆ δὲ συφορβός, ἐπεὶ τὸν μῦθον ἄκουσεν,\nἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευε·\nΤηλέμαχός τοι, ξεῖνε, διδοῖ τάδε, καί σε κελεύει\nαἰτίζειν μάλα πάντας ἐποιχόμενον μνηστῆρας·\nαἰδῶ δʼ οὐκ ἀγαθήν φησʼ ἔμμεναι ἀνδρὶ προΐκτῃ.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nΖεῦ ἄνα, Τηλέμαχόν μοι ἐν ἀνδράσιν ὄλβιον εἶναι,\nκαί οἱ πάντα γένοιθʼ ὅσσα φρεσὶν ᾗσι μενοινᾷ.\nἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφοτέρῃσιν ἐδέξατο καὶ κατέθηκεν\nαὖθι ποδῶν προπάροιθεν, ἀεικελίης ἐπὶ πήρης,\nἤσθιε δʼ ἧος ἀοιδὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἄειδεν·\nεὖθʼ ὁ δεδειπνήκειν, ὁ δʼ ἐπαύετο θεῖος ἀοιδός.\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ὁμάδησαν ἀνὰ μέγαρʼ. αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη,\nἄγχι παρισταμένη Λαερτιάδην Ὀδυσῆα\nὤτρυνʼ, ὡς ἂν πύρνα κατὰ μνηστῆρας ἀγείροι,\nγνοίη θʼ οἵ τινές εἰσιν ἐναίσιμοι οἵ τʼ ἀθέμιστοι·\nἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὥς τινʼ ἔμελλʼ ἀπαλεξήσειν κακότητος.\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν αἰτήσων ἐνδέξια φῶτα ἕκαστον,\nπάντοσε χεῖρʼ ὀρέγων, ὡς εἰ πτωχὸς πάλαι εἴη.\nοἱ δʼ ἐλεαίροντες δίδοσαν, καὶ ἐθάμβεον αὐτόν,\nἀλλήλους τʼ εἴροντο τίς εἴη καὶ πόθεν ἔλθοι.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν·\nκέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγακλειτῆς βασιλείης,\nτοῦδε περὶ ξείνου· ἦ γάρ μιν πρόσθεν ὄπωπα.\nἦ τοι μέν οἱ δεῦρο συβώτης ἡγεμόνευεν,\nαὐτὸν δʼ οὐ σάφα οἶδα, πόθεν γένος εὔχεται εἶναι.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἔπεσιν νείκεσσε συβώτην·\nὦ ἀρίγνωτε συβῶτα, τίη δὲ σὺ τόνδε πόλινδε\nἤγαγες; ἦ οὐχ ἅλις ἧμιν ἀλήμονές εἰσι καὶ ἄλλοι,\nπτωχοὶ ἀνιηροί, δαιτῶν ἀπολυμαντῆρες;\nἦ ὄνοσαι ὅτι τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν ἄνακτος\nἐνθάδʼ ἀγειρόμενοι, σὺ δὲ καὶ προτὶ τόνδʼ ἐκάλεσσας;\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nἈντίνοʼ, οὐ μὲν καλὰ καὶ ἐσθλὸς ἐὼν ἀγορεύεις·\nτίς γὰρ δὴ ξεῖνον καλεῖ ἄλλοθεν αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν\nἄλλον γʼ, εἰ μὴ τῶν οἳ δημιοεργοὶ ἔασι,\nμάντιν ἢ ἰητῆρα κακῶν ἢ τέκτονα δούρων,\nἢ καὶ θέσπιν ἀοιδόν, ὅ κεν τέρπῃσιν ἀείδων;\nοὗτοι γὰρ κλητοί γε βροτῶν ἐπʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν·\nπτωχὸν δʼ οὐκ ἄν τις καλέοι τρύξοντα ἓ αὐτόν.\nἀλλʼ αἰεὶ χαλεπὸς περὶ πάντων εἶς μνηστήρων\nδμωσὶν Ὀδυσσῆος, πέρι δʼ αὖτʼ ἐμοί· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε\nοὐκ ἀλέγω, ἧός μοι ἐχέφρων Πηνελόπεια\nζώει ἐνὶ μεγάροις καὶ Τηλέμαχος θεοειδής.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nσίγα, μή μοι τοῦτον ἀμείβεο πολλὰ ἔπεσσιν·\nἈντίνοος δʼ εἴωθε κακῶς ἐρεθιζέμεν αἰεὶ\nμύθοισιν χαλεποῖσιν, ἐποτρύνει δὲ καὶ ἄλλους.\nἦ ῥα καὶ Ἀντίνοον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἈντίνοʼ, ἦ μευ καλὰ πατὴρ ὣς κήδεαι υἷος,\nὃς τὸν ξεῖνον ἄνωγας ἀπὸ μεγάροιο διέσθαι\nμύθῳ ἀναγκαίῳ· μὴ τοῦτο θεὸς τελέσειε.\nδός οἱ ἑλών· οὔ τοι φθονέω· κέλομαι γὰρ ἐγώ γε·\nμήτʼ οὖν μητέρʼ ἐμὴν ἅζευ τό γε μήτε τινʼ ἄλλον\nδμώων, οἳ κατὰ δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.\nἀλλʼ οὔ τοι τοιοῦτον ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόημα·\nαὐτὸς γὰρ φαγέμεν πολὺ βούλεαι ἢ δόμεν ἄλλῳ.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέειπε·\nΤηλέμαχʼ ὑψαγόρη, μένος ἄσχετε, ποῖον ἔειπες.\nεἴ οἱ τόσσον ἅπαντες ὀρέξειαν μνηστῆρες,\nκαί κέν μιν τρεῖς μῆνας ἀπόπροθεν οἶκος ἐρύκοι.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, καὶ θρῆνυν ἑλὼν ὑπέφηνε τραπέζης\nκείμενον, ᾧ ῥʼ ἔπεχεν λιπαροὺς πόδας εἰλαπινάζων·\nοἱ δʼ ἄλλοι πάντες δίδοσαν, πλῆσαν δʼ ἄρα πήρην\nσίτου καὶ κρειῶν· τάχα δὴ καὶ ἔμελλεν Ὀδυσσεὺς\nαὖτις ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰὼν προικὸς γεύσεσθαι Ἀχαιῶν·\nστῆ δὲ παρʼ Ἀντίνοον, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·\nδός, φίλος· οὐ μέν μοι δοκέεις ὁ κάκιστος Ἀχαιῶν\nἔμμεναι, ἀλλʼ ὤριστος, ἐπεὶ βασιλῆϊ ἔοικας.\nτῷ σε χρὴ δόμεναι καὶ λώϊον ἠέ περ ἄλλοι\nσίτου· ἐγὼ δέ κέ σε κλείω κατʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν.\nκαὶ γὰρ ἐγώ ποτε οἶκον ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔναιον\nὄλβιος ἀφνειὸν καὶ πολλάκι δόσκον ἀλήτῃ,\nτοίῳ ὁποῖος ἔοι καὶ ὅτευ κεχρημένος ἔλθοι·\nἦσαν δὲ δμῶες μάλα μυρίοι ἄλλα τε πολλὰ\nοἷσίν τʼ εὖ ζώουσι καὶ ἀφνειοὶ καλέονται.\nἀλλὰ Ζεὺς ἀλάπαξε Κρονίων—ἤθελε γάρ που—\nὅς μʼ ἅμα ληϊστῆρσι πολυπλάγκτοισιν ἀνῆκεν\nΑἴγυπτόνδʼ ἰέναι, δολιχὴν ὁδόν, ὄφρʼ ἀπολοίμην.\nστῆσα δʼ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ ποταμῷ νέας ἀμφιελίσσας.\nἔνθʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ κελόμην ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους\nαὐτοῦ πὰρ νήεσσι μένειν καὶ νῆας ἔρυσθαι,\nὀπτῆρας δὲ κατὰ σκοπιὰς ὤτρυνα νέεσθαι.\nοἱ δʼ ὕβρει εἴξαντες, ἐπισπόμενοι μένεϊ σφῷ,\nαἶψα μάλʼ Αἰγυπτίων ἀνδρῶν περικαλλέας ἀγροὺς\nπόρθεον, ἐκ δὲ γυναῖκας ἄγον καὶ νήπια τέκνα,\nαὐτούς τʼ ἔκτεινον· τάχα δʼ ἐς πόλιν ἵκετʼ ἀϋτή.\nοἱ δὲ βοῆς ἀΐοντες ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν\nἦλθον· πλῆτο δὲ πᾶν πεδίον πεζῶν τε καὶ ἵππων\nχαλκοῦ τε στεροπῆς· ἐν δὲ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος\nφύζαν ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισι κακὴν βάλεν, οὐδέ τις ἔτλη\nστῆναι ἐναντίβιον· περὶ γὰρ κακὰ πάντοθεν ἔστη.\nἔνθʼ ἡμέων πολλοὺς μὲν ἀπέκτανον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,\nτοὺς δʼ ἄναγον ζωούς, σφίσιν ἐργάζεσθαι ἀνάγκῃ.\nαὐτὰρ ἔμʼ ἐς Κύπρον ξείνῳ δόσαν ἀντιάσαντι,\nΔμήτορι Ἰασίδῃ, ὃς Κύπρου ἶφι ἄνασσεν·\nἔνθεν δὴ νῦν δεῦρο τόδʼ ἵκω πήματα πάσχων.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·\nτίς δαίμων τόδε πῆμα προσήγαγε, δαιτὸς ἀνίην;\nστῆθʼ οὕτως ἐς μέσσον, ἐμῆς ἀπάνευθε τραπέζης,\nμὴ τάχα πικρὴν Αἴγυπτον καὶ Κύπρον ἵκηαι·\nὥς τις θαρσαλέος καὶ ἀναιδής ἐσσι προΐκτης.\nἑξείης πάντεσσι παρίστασαι· οἱ δὲ διδοῦσι\nμαψιδίως, ἐπεὶ οὔ τις ἐπίσχεσις οὐδʼ ἐλεητὺς\nἀλλοτρίων χαρίσασθαι, ἐπεὶ πάρα πολλὰ ἑκάστῳ.\nτὸν δʼ ἀναχωρήσας προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὢ πόποι, οὐκ ἄρα σοί γʼ ἐπὶ εἴδεϊ καὶ φρένες ἦσαν·\nοὐ σύ γʼ ἂν ἐξ οἴκου σῷ ἐπιστάτῃ οὐδʼ ἅλα δοίης,\nὃς νῦν ἀλλοτρίοισι παρήμενος οὔ τί μοι ἔτλης\nσίτου ἀποπροελὼν δόμεναι· τὰ δὲ πολλὰ πάρεστιν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἐχολώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,\nκαί μιν ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nνῦν δή σʼ οὐκέτι καλὰ διὲκ μεγάροιό γʼ ὀΐω\nἂψ ἀναχωρήσειν, ὅτε δὴ καὶ ὀνείδεα βάζεις.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, καὶ θρῆνυν ἑλὼν βάλε δεξιὸν ὦμον,\nπρυμνότατον κατὰ νῶτον· ὁ δʼ ἐστάθη ἠΰτε πέτρη\nἔμπεδον, οὐδʼ ἄρα μιν σφῆλεν βέλος Ἀντινόοιο,\nἀλλʼ ἀκέων κίνησε κάρη, κακὰ βυσσοδομεύων.\nἂψ δʼ ὅ γʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο, κὰδ δʼ ἄρα πήρην\nθῆκεν ἐϋπλείην, μετὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσιν ἔειπε·\nκέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγακλειτῆς βασιλείης,\nὄφρʼ εἴπω τά με θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κελεύει.\nοὐ μὰν οὔτʼ ἄχος ἐστὶ μετὰ φρεσὶν οὔτε τι πένθος,\nὁππότʼ ἀνὴρ περὶ οἷσι μαχειόμενος κτεάτεσσι\nβλήεται, ἢ περὶ βουσὶν ἢ ἀργεννῇς ὀΐεσσιν·\nαὐτὰρ ἔμʼ Ἀντίνοος βάλε γαστέρος εἵνεκα λυγρῆς,\nοὐλομένης, ἣ πολλὰ κάκʼ ἀνθρώποισι δίδωσιν.\nἀλλʼ εἴ που πτωχῶν γε θεοὶ καὶ Ἐρινύες εἰσίν,\nἈντίνοον πρὸ γάμοιο τέλος θανάτοιο κιχείη.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·\nἔσθιʼ ἕκηλος, ξεῖνε, καθήμενος, ἢ ἄπιθʼ ἄλλῃ,\nμή σε νέοι διὰ δώματʼ ἐρύσσωσʼ, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις,\nἢ ποδὸς ἢ καὶ χειρός, ἀποδρύψωσι δὲ πάντα.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὑπερφιάλως νεμέσησαν·\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·\nἈντίνοʼ, οὐ μὲν κάλʼ ἔβαλες δύστηνον ἀλήτην,\nοὐλόμενʼ, εἰ δή πού τις ἐπουράνιος θεός ἐστιν.\nκαί τε θεοὶ ξείνοισιν ἐοικότες ἀλλοδαποῖσι,\nπαντοῖοι τελέθοντες, ἐπιστρωφῶσι πόληας,\nἀνθρώπων ὕβριν τε καὶ εὐνομίην ἐφορῶντες.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν μνηστῆρες, ὁ δʼ οὐκ ἐμπάζετο μύθων.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἐν μὲν κραδίῃ μέγα πένθος ἄεξε\nβλημένου, οὐδʼ ἄρα δάκρυ χαμαὶ βάλεν ἐκ βλεφάροιϊν,\nἀλλʼ ἀκέων κίνησε κάρη, κακὰ βυσσοδομεύων.\nτοῦ δʼ ὡς οὖν ἤκουσε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια\nβλημένου ἐν μεγάρῳ, μετʼ ἄρα δμῳῇσιν ἔειπεν·\nαἴθʼ οὕτως αὐτόν σε βάλοι κλυτότοξος Ἀπόλλων.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρυνόμη ταμίη πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·\nεἰ γὰρ ἐπʼ ἀρῇσιν τέλος ἡμετέρῃσι γένοιτο·\nοὐκ ἄν τις τούτων γε ἐΰθρονον Ἠῶ ἵκοιτο.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nμαῖʼ, ἐχθροὶ μὲν πάντες, ἐπεὶ κακὰ μηχανόωνται·\nἈντίνοος δὲ μάλιστα μελαίνῃ κηρὶ ἔοικε.\nξεῖνός τις δύστηνος ἀλητεύει κατὰ δῶμα\nἀνέρας αἰτίζων· ἀχρημοσύνη γὰρ ἀνώγει·\nἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἐνέπλησάν τʼ ἔδοσάν τε,\nοὗτος δὲ θρήνυι πρυμνὸν βάλε δεξιὸν ὦμον.\nἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς ἀγόρευε μετὰ δμῳῇσι γυναιξίν,\nἡμένη ἐν θαλάμῳ· ὁ δʼ ἐδείπνεε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἡ δʼ ἐπὶ οἷ καλέσασα προσηύδα δῖον ὑφορβόν·\nἔρχεο, δῖʼ Εὔμαιε, κιὼν τὸν ξεῖνον ἄνωχθι\nἐλθέμεν, ὄφρα τί μιν προσπτύξομαι ἠδʼ ἐρέωμαι\nεἴ που Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος ἠὲ πέπυσται\nἢ ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσι· πολυπλάγκτῳ γὰρ ἔοικε.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα\nεἰ γάρ τοι, βασίλεια, σιωπήσειαν Ἀχαιοί·\nοἷʼ ὅ γε μυθεῖται, θέλγοιτό κέ τοι φίλον ἦτορ.\nτρεῖς γὰρ δή μιν νύκτας ἔχον, τρία δʼ ἤματʼ ἔρυξα\nἐν κλισίῃ· πρῶτον γὰρ ἔμʼ ἵκετο νηὸς ἀποδράς·\nἀλλʼ οὔ πω κακότητα διήνυσεν ἣν ἀγορεύων.\nὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἀοιδὸν ἀνὴρ ποτιδέρκεται, ὅς τε θεῶν ἒξ\nἀείδει δεδαὼς ἔπεʼ ἱμερόεντα βροτοῖσι,\nτοῦ δʼ ἄμοτον μεμάασιν ἀκουέμεν, ὁππότʼ ἀείδῃ·\nὣς ἐμὲ κεῖνος ἔθελγε παρήμενος ἐν μεγάροισι.\nφησὶ δʼ Ὀδυσσῆος ξεῖνος πατρώϊος εἶναι,\nΚρήτῃ ναιετάων, ὅθι Μίνωος γένος ἐστίν.\nἔνθεν δὴ νῦν δεῦρο τόδʼ ἵκετο πήματα πάσχων,\nπροπροκυλινδόμενος· στεῦται δʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀκοῦσαι,\nἀγχοῦ, Θεσπρωτῶν ἀνδρῶν ἐν πίονι δήμῳ,\nζωοῦ· πολλὰ δʼ ἄγει κειμήλια ὅνδε δόμονδε.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nἔρχεο, δεῦρο κάλεσσον, ἵνʼ ἀντίον αὐτὸς ἐνίσπῃ.\nοὗτοι δʼ ἠὲ θύρῃσι καθήμενοι ἑψιαάσθων.\nἢ αὐτοῦ κατὰ δώματʼ, ἐπεί σφισι θυμὸς ἐΰφρων.\nαὐτῶν μὲν γὰρ κτήματʼ ἀκήρατα κεῖτʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nσῖτος καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ· τὰ μὲν οἰκῆες ἔδουσιν,\nοἱ δʼ εἰς ἡμέτερον πωλεύμενοι ἤματα πάντα,\nβοῦς ἱερεύοντες καὶ ὄϊς καὶ πίονας αἶγας,\nεἰλαπινάζουσιν πίνουσί τε αἴθοπα οἶνον,\nμαψιδίως· τὰ δὲ πολλὰ κατάνεται. οὐ γὰρ ἔπʼ ἀνήρ,\nοἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκεν, ἀρὴν ἀπὸ οἴκου ἀμῦναι.\nεἰ δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔλθοι καὶ ἵκοιτʼ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nαἶψά κε σὺν ᾧ παιδὶ βίας ἀποτίσεται ἀνδρῶν.\nὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ μέγʼ ἔπταρεν, ἀμφὶ δὲ δῶμα\nσμερδαλέον κονάβησε· γέλασσε δὲ Πηνελόπεια,\nαἶψα δʼ ἄρʼ Εὔμαιον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἔρχεό μοι, τὸν ξεῖνον ἐναντίον ὧδε κάλεσσον.\nοὐχ ὁράᾳς ὅ μοι υἱὸς ἐπέπταρε πᾶσιν ἔπεσσι;\nτῷ κε καὶ οὐκ ἀτελὴς θάνατος μνηστῆρσι γένοιτο\nπᾶσι μάλʼ, οὐδέ κέ τις θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξει.\nἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·\nαἴ κʼ αὐτὸν γνώω νημερτέα πάντʼ ἐνέποντα,\nἕσσω μιν χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, εἵματα καλά.\nὣς φάτο, βῆ δὲ συφορβός, ἐπεὶ τὸν μῦθον ἄκουσεν·\nἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nξεῖνε πάτερ, καλέει σε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,\nμήτηρ Τηλεμάχοιο· μεταλλῆσαί τί ἑ θυμὸς\nἀμφὶ πόσει κέλεται, καὶ κήδεά περ πεπαθυίῃ.\nεἰ δέ κέ σε γνώῃ νημερτέα πάντʼ ἐνέποντα,\nἕσσει σε χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, τῶν σὺ μάλιστα\nχρηΐζεις· σῖτον δὲ καὶ αἰτίζων κατὰ δῆμον\nγαστέρα βοσκήσεις· δώσει δέ τοι ὅς κʼ ἐθέλῃσι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nΕὔμαιʼ, αἶψά κʼ ἐγὼ νημερτέα πάντʼ ἐνέποιμι\nκούρῃ Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ·\nοἶδα γὰρ εὖ περὶ κείνου, ὁμὴν δʼ ἀνεδέγμεθʼ ὀϊζύν.\nἀλλὰ μνηστήρων χαλεπῶν ὑποδείδιʼ ὅμιλον,\nτῶν ὕβρις τε βίη τε σιδήρεον οὐρανὸν ἵκει.\nκαὶ γὰρ νῦν, ὅτε μʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ κατὰ δῶμα κιόντα\nοὔ τι κακὸν ῥέξαντα βαλὼν ὀδύνῃσιν ἔδωκεν,\nοὔτε τι Τηλέμαχος τό γʼ ἐπήρκεσεν οὔτε τις ἄλλος.\nτῷ νῦν Πηνελόπειαν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἄνωχθι\nμεῖναι, ἐπειγομένην περ, ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα·\nκαὶ τότε μʼ εἰρέσθω πόσιος πέρι νόστιμον ἦμαρ,\nἀσσοτέρω καθίσασα παραὶ πυρί· εἵματα γάρ τοι\nλύγρʼ ἔχω· οἶσθα καὶ αὐτός, ἐπεί σε πρῶθʼ ἱκέτευσα.\nὣς φάτο, βῆ δὲ συφορβός, ἐπεὶ τὸν μῦθον ἄκουσε.\nτὸν δʼ ὑπὲρ οὐδοῦ βάντα προσηύδα Πηνελόπεια·\nοὐ σύ γʼ ἄγεις, Εὔμαιε· τί τοῦτʼ ἐνόησεν ἀλήτης;\nἦ τινά που δείσας ἐξαίσιον ἦε καὶ ἄλλως\nαἰδεῖται κατὰ δῶμα; κακὸς δʼ αἰδοῖος ἀλήτης.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nμυθεῖται κατὰ μοῖραν, ἅ πέρ κʼ οἴοιτο καὶ ἄλλος,\nὕβριν ἀλυσκάζων ἀνδρῶν ὑπερηνορεόντων.\nἀλλά σε μεῖναι ἄνωγεν ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα.\nκαὶ δὲ σοὶ ὧδʼ αὐτῇ πολὺ κάλλιον, ὦ βασίλεια,\nοἴην πρὸς ξεῖνον φάσθαι ἔπος ἠδʼ ἐπακοῦσαι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nοὐκ ἄφρων ὁ ξεῖνος· ὀΐεται, ὥς περ ἂν εἴη·\nοὐ γάρ πού τινες ὧδε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων\nἀνέρες ὑβρίζοντες ἀτάσθαλα μηχανόωνται.\nἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς ἀγόρευεν, ὁ δʼ ᾤχετο δῖος ὑφορβὸς\nμνηστήρων ἐς ὅμιλον, ἐπεὶ διεπέφραδε πάντα.\nαἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα,\nἄγχι σχὼν κεφαλήν, ἵνα μὴ πευθοίαθʼ οἱ ἄλλοι·\nὦ φίλʼ, ἐγὼ μὲν ἄπειμι, σύας καὶ κεῖνα φυλάξων,\nσὸν καὶ ἐμὸν βίοτον· σοὶ δʼ ἐνθάδε πάντα μελόντων.\nαὐτὸν μέν σε πρῶτα σάω, καὶ φράζεο θυμῷ\nμή τι πάθῃς· πολλοὶ δὲ κακὰ φρονέουσιν Ἀχαιῶν,\nτοὺς Ζεὺς ἐξολέσειε πρὶν ἡμῖν πῆμα γενέσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nἔσσεται οὕτως, ἄττα· σὺ δʼ ἔρχεο δειελιήσας·\nἠῶθεν δʼ ἰέναι καὶ ἄγειν ἱερήϊα καλά·\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τάδε πάντα καὶ ἀθανάτοισι μελήσει.\nὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αὖτις ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐϋξέστου ἐπὶ δίφρου,\nπλησάμενος δʼ ἄρα θυμὸν ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος\nβῆ ῥʼ ἴμεναι μεθʼ ὕας, λίπε δʼ ἕρκεά τε μέγαρόν τε,\nπλεῖον δαιτυμόνων· οἱ δʼ ὀρχηστυῖ καὶ ἀοιδῇ\nτέρποντʼ· ἤδη γὰρ καὶ ἐπήλυθε δείελον ἦμαρ.\n\n### Book 18\n\nἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ πτωχὸς πανδήμιος, ὃς κατὰ ἄστυ\nπτωχεύεσκʼ Ἰθάκης, μετὰ δʼ ἔπρεπε γαστέρι μάργῃ\nἀζηχὲς φαγέμεν καὶ πιέμεν· οὐδέ οἱ ἦν ἲς\nοὐδὲ βίη, εἶδος δὲ μάλα μέγας ἦν ὁράασθαι.\nἈρναῖος δʼ ὄνομʼ ἔσκε· τὸ γὰρ θέτο πότνια μήτηρ\nἐκ γενετῆς· Ἶρον δὲ νέοι κίκλησκον ἅπαντες,\nοὕνεκʼ ἀπαγγέλλεσκε κιών, ὅτε πού τις ἀνώγοι·\nὅς ῥʼ ἐλθὼν Ὀδυσῆα διώκετο οἷο δόμοιο,\nκαί μιν νεικείων ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nεἶκε, γέρον, προθύρου, μὴ δὴ τάχα καὶ ποδὸς ἕλκῃ.\nοὐκ ἀΐεις ὅτι δή μοι ἐπιλλίζουσιν ἅπαντες,\nἑλκέμεναι δὲ κέλονται; ἐγὼ δʼ αἰσχύνομαι ἔμπης.\nἀλλʼ ἄνα, μὴ τάχα νῶϊν ἔρις καὶ χερσὶ γένηται.\nτὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nδαιμόνιʼ, οὔτε τί σε ῥέζω κακὸν οὔτʼ ἀγορεύω,\nοὔτε τινὰ φθονέω δόμεναι καὶ πόλλʼ ἀνελόντα.\nοὐδὸς δʼ ἀμφοτέρους ὅδε χείσεται, οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ\nἀλλοτρίων φθονέειν· δοκέεις δέ μοι εἶναι ἀλήτης\nὥς περ ἐγών, ὄλβον δὲ θεοὶ μέλλουσιν ὀπάζειν.\nχερσὶ δὲ μή τι λίην προκαλίζεο, μή με χολώσῃς,\nμή σε γέρων περ ἐὼν στῆθος καὶ χείλεα φύρσω\nαἵματος· ἡσυχίη δʼ ἂν ἐμοὶ καὶ μᾶλλον ἔτʼ εἴη\nαὔριον· οὐ μὲν γάρ τί σʼ ὑποστρέψεσθαι ὀΐω\nδεύτερον ἐς μέγαρον Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος.\nτὸν δὲ χολωσάμενος προσεφώνεεν Ἶρος ἀλήτης·\nὢ πόποι, ὡς ὁ μολοβρὸς ἐπιτροχάδην ἀγορεύει,\nγρηῒ καμινοῖ ἶσος· ὃν ἂν κακὰ μητισαίμην\nκόπτων ἀμφοτέρῃσι, χαμαὶ δέ κε πάντας ὀδόντας\nγναθμῶν ἐξελάσαιμι συὸς ὣς ληϊβοτείρης.\nζῶσαι νῦν, ἵνα πάντες ἐπιγνώωσι καὶ οἵδε\nμαρναμένους· πῶς δʼ ἂν σὺ νεωτέρῳ ἀνδρὶ μάχοιο;\nὣς οἱ μὲν προπάροιθε θυράων ὑψηλάων\nοὐδοῦ ἔπι ξεστοῦ πανθυμαδὸν ὀκριόωντο.\nτοῖϊν δὲ ξυνέηχʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀντινόοιο,\nἡδὺ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐκγελάσας μετεφώνει μνηστήρεσσιν·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐ μέν πώ τι πάρος τοιοῦτον ἐτύχθη,\nοἵην τερπωλὴν θεὸς ἤγαγεν ἐς τόδε δῶμα.\nὁ ξεῖνός τε καὶ Ἶρος ἐρίζετον ἀλλήλοιϊν\nχερσὶ μαχέσσασθαι· ἀλλὰ ξυνελάσσομεν ὦκα.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀνήϊξαν γελόωντες,\nἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα πτωχοὺς κακοείμονας ἠγερέθοντο.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·\nκέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες, ὄφρα τι εἴπω.\nγαστέρες αἵδʼ αἰγῶν κέατʼ ἐν πυρί, τὰς ἐπὶ δόρπῳ\nκατθέμεθα κνίσης τε καὶ αἵματος ἐμπλήσαντες·\nὁππότερος δέ κε νικήσῃ κρείσσων τε γένηται,\nτάων ἥν κʼ ἐθέλῃσιν ἀναστὰς αὐτὸς ἑλέσθω·\nαἰεὶ αὖθʼ ἡμῖν μεταδαίσεται, οὐδέ τινʼ ἄλλον\nπτωχὸν ἔσω μίσγεσθαι ἐάσομεν αἰτήσοντα.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀντίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.\nτοῖς δὲ δολοφρονέων μετέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ φίλοι, οὔ πως ἔστι νεωτέρῳ ἀνδρὶ μάχεσθαι\nἄνδρα γέροντα, δύῃ ἀρημένον· ἀλλά με γαστὴρ\nὀτρύνει κακοεργός, ἵνα πληγῇσι δαμείω.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν μοι πάντες ὀμόσσατε καρτερὸν ὅρκον,\nμή τις ἐπʼ Ἴρῳ ἦρα φέρων ἐμὲ χειρὶ βαρείῃ\nπλήξῃ ἀτασθάλλων, τούτῳ δέ με ἶφι δαμάσσῃ.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀπώμνυον ὡς ἐκέλευεν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσάν τε τελεύτησάν τε τὸν ὅρκον,\nτοῖς δʼ αὖτις μετέειφʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο·\nξεῖνʼ, εἴ σʼ ὀτρύνει κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ\nτοῦτον ἀλέξασθαι, τῶν δʼ ἄλλων μή τινʼ Ἀχαιῶν\nδείδιθʼ, ἐπεὶ πλεόνεσσι μαχήσεται ὅς κέ σε θείνῃ·\nξεινοδόκος μὲν ἐγών, ἐπὶ δʼ αἰνεῖτον βασιλῆες,\nἈντίνοός τε καὶ Εὐρύμαχος, πεπνυμένω ἄμφω.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nζώσατο μὲν ῥάκεσιν περὶ μήδεα, φαῖνε δὲ μηροὺς\nκαλούς τε μεγάλους τε, φάνεν δέ οἱ εὐρέες ὦμοι\nστήθεά τε στιβαροί τε βραχίονες· αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη\nἄγχι παρισταμένη μέλεʼ ἤλδανε ποιμένι λαῶν.\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὑπερφιάλως ἀγάσαντο·\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·\nἦ τάχα Ἶρος Ἄϊρος ἐπίσπαστον κακὸν ἕξει,\nοἵην ἐκ ῥακέων ὁ γέρων ἐπιγουνίδα φαίνει.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν, Ἴρῳ δὲ κακῶς ὠρίνετο θυμός.\nἀλλὰ καὶ ὣς δρηστῆρες ἄγον ζώσαντες ἀνάγκῃ\nδειδιότα· σάρκες δὲ περιτρομέοντο μέλεσσιν.\nἈντίνοος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nνῦν μὲν μήτʼ εἴης, βουγάϊε, μήτε γένοιο,\nεἰ δὴ τοῦτόν γε τρομέεις καὶ δείδιας αἰνῶς,\nἄνδρα γέροντα, δύῃ ἀρημένον, ἥ μιν ἱκάνει.\nἀλλʼ ἔκ τοι ἐρέω, τὸ δὲ καὶ τετελεσμένον ἔσται·\nαἴ κέν σʼ οὗτος νικήσῃ κρείσσων τε γένηται,\nπέμψω σʼ ἤπειρόνδε, βαλὼν ἐν νηὶ μελαίνῃ,\nεἰς Ἔχετον βασιλῆα, βροτῶν δηλήμονα πάντων,\nὅς κʼ ἀπὸ ῥῖνα τάμῃσι καὶ οὔατα νηλέϊ χαλκῷ,\nμήδεά τʼ ἐξερύσας δώῃ κυσὶν ὠμὰ δάσασθαι.\nὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑπὸ τρόμος ἔλλαβε γυῖα.\nἐς μέσσον δʼ ἄναγον· τὼ δʼ ἄμφω χεῖρας ἀνέσχον.\nδὴ τότε μερμήριξε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἢ ἐλάσειʼ ὥς μιν ψυχὴ λίποι αὖθι πεσόντα,\nἦέ μιν ἦκʼ ἐλάσειε τανύσσειέν τʼ ἐπὶ γαίῃ.\nὧδε δέ οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,\nἦκʼ ἐλάσαι, ἵνα μή μιν ἐπιφρασσαίατʼ Ἀχαιοί.\nδὴ τότʼ ἀνασχομένω ὁ μὲν ἤλασε δεξιὸν ὦμον\nἾρος, ὁ δʼ αὐχένʼ ἔλασσεν ὑπʼ οὔατος, ὀστέα δʼ εἴσω\nἔθλασεν· αὐτίκα δʼ ἦλθε κατὰ στόμα φοίνιον αἷμα,\nκὰδ δʼ ἔπεσʼ ἐν κονίῃσι μακών, σὺν δʼ ἤλασʼ ὀδόντας\nλακτίζων ποσὶ γαῖαν· ἀτὰρ μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοὶ\nχεῖρας ἀνασχόμενοι γέλῳ ἔκθανον. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἕλκε διὲκ προθύροιο λαβὼν ποδός, ὄφρʼ ἵκετʼ αὐλήν,\nαἰθούσης τε θύρας· καί μιν ποτὶ ἑρκίον αὐλῆς\nεἷσεν ἀνακλίνας· σκῆπτρον δέ οἱ ἔμβαλε χειρί,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἐνταυθοῖ νῦν ἧσο σύας τε κύνας τʼ ἀπερύκων,\nμηδὲ σύ γε ξείνων καὶ πτωχῶν κοίρανος εἶναι\nλυγρὸς ἐών, μή πού τι κακὸν καὶ μεῖζον ἐπαύρῃ.\nἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἀεικέα βάλλετο πήρην,\nπυκνὰ ῥωγαλέην· ἐν δὲ στρόφος ἦεν ἀορτήρ.\nἂψ δʼ ὅ γʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο· τοὶ δʼ ἴσαν εἴσω\nἡδὺ γελώοντες καὶ δεικανόωντʼ ἐπέεσσι·\nΖεύς τοι δοίη, ξεῖνε, καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι,\nὅττι μάλιστʼ ἐθέλεις καί τοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ,\nὃς τοῦτον τὸν ἄναλτον ἀλητεύειν ἀπέπαυσας\nἐν δήμῳ· τάχα γάρ μιν ἀνάξομεν ἤπειρόνδε\nεἰς Ἔχετον βασιλῆα, βροτῶν δηλήμονα πάντων.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν, χαῖρεν δὲ κλεηδόνι δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nἈντίνοος δʼ ἄρα οἱ μεγάλην παρὰ γαστέρα θῆκεν,\nἐμπλείην κνίσης τε καὶ αἵματος· Ἀμφίνομος δὲ\nἄρτους ἐκ κανέοιο δύω παρέθηκεν ἀείρας\nκαὶ δέπαϊ χρυσέῳ δειδίσκετο, φώνησέν τε·\nχαῖρε, πάτερ ὦ ξεῖνε, γένοιτό τοι ἔς περ ὀπίσσω\nὄλβος· ἀτὰρ μὲν νῦν γε κακοῖς ἔχεαι πολέεσσι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἈμφίνομʼ, ἦ μάλα μοι δοκέεις πεπνυμένος εἶναι·\nτοίου γὰρ καὶ πατρός, ἐπεὶ κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἄκουον,\nΝῖσον Δουλιχιῆα ἐΰν τʼ ἔμεν ἀφνειόν τε·\nτοῦ σʼ ἔκ φασι γενέσθαι, ἐπητῇ δʼ ἀνδρὶ ἔοικας.\nτοὔνεκά τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο καί μευ ἄκουσον·\nοὐδὲν ἀκιδνότερον γαῖα τρέφει ἀνθρώποιο,\nπάντων ὅσσα τε γαῖαν ἔπι πνείει τε καὶ ἕρπει.\nοὐ μὲν γάρ ποτέ φησι κακὸν πείσεσθαι ὀπίσσω,\nὄφρʼ ἀρετὴν παρέχωσι θεοὶ καὶ γούνατʼ ὀρώρῃ·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ καὶ λυγρὰ θεοὶ μάκαρες τελέσωσι,\nκαὶ τὰ φέρει ἀεκαζόμενος τετληότι θυμῷ·\nτοῖος γὰρ νόος ἐστὶν ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων\nοἷον ἐπʼ ἦμαρ ἄγησι πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε.\nκαὶ γὰρ ἐγώ ποτʼ ἔμελλον ἐν ἀνδράσιν ὄλβιος εἶναι,\nπολλὰ δʼ ἀτάσθαλʼ ἔρεξα βίῃ καὶ κάρτεϊ εἴκων,\nπατρί τʼ ἐμῷ πίσυνος καὶ ἐμοῖσι κασιγνήτοισι.\nτῷ μή τίς ποτε πάμπαν ἀνὴρ ἀθεμίστιος εἴη,\nἀλλʼ ὅ γε σιγῇ δῶρα θεῶν ἔχοι, ὅττι διδοῖεν.\nοἷʼ ὁρόω μνηστῆρας ἀτάσθαλα μηχανόωντας,\nκτήματα κείροντας καὶ ἀτιμάζοντας ἄκοιτιν\nἀνδρός, ὃν οὐκέτι φημὶ φίλων καὶ πατρίδος αἴης\nδηρὸν ἀπέσσεσθαι· μάλα δὲ σχεδόν. ἀλλά σε δαίμων\nοἴκαδʼ ὑπεξαγάγοι, μηδʼ ἀντιάσειας ἐκείνῳ,\nὁππότε νοστήσειε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·\nοὐ γὰρ ἀναιμωτί γε διακρινέεσθαι ὀΐω\nμνηστῆρας καὶ κεῖνον, ἐπεί κε μέλαθρον ὑπέλθῃ.\nὣς φάτο, καὶ σπείσας ἔπιεν μελιηδέα οἶνον,\nἂψ δʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἔθηκε δέπας κοσμήτορι λαῶν.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ διὰ δῶμα φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ,\nνευστάζων κεφαλῇ· δὴ γὰρ κακὸν ὄσσετο θυμός.\nἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς φύγε κῆρα· πέδησε δὲ καὶ τὸν Ἀθήνη\nΤηλεμάχου ὑπὸ χερσὶ καὶ ἔγχεϊ ἶφι δαμῆναι.\nἂψ δʼ αὖτις κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη.\nτῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,\nκούρῃ Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,\nμνηστήρεσσι φανῆναι, ὅπως πετάσειε μάλιστα\nθυμὸν μνηστήρων ἰδὲ τιμήεσσα γένοιτο\nμᾶλλον πρὸς πόσιός τε καὶ υἱέος ἢ πάρος ἦεν.\nἀχρεῖον δʼ ἐγέλασσεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nΕὐρυνόμη, θυμός μοι ἐέλδεται, οὔ τι πάρος γε,\nμνηστήρεσσι φανῆναι, ἀπεχθομένοισί περ ἔμπης·\nπαιδὶ δέ κεν εἴποιμι ἔπος, τό κε κέρδιον εἴη,\nμὴ πάντα μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ὁμιλεῖν,\nοἵ τʼ εὖ μὲν βάζουσι, κακῶς δʼ ὄπιθεν φρονέουσι.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρυνόμη ταμίη πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·\nναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε πάντα, τέκος, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.\nἀλλʼ ἴθι καὶ σῷ παιδὶ ἔπος φάο μηδʼ ἐπίκευθε,\nχρῶτʼ ἀπονιψαμένη καὶ ἐπιχρίσασα παρειάς·\nμηδʼ οὕτω δακρύοισι πεφυρμένη ἀμφὶ πρόσωπα\nἔρχευ, ἐπεὶ κάκιον πενθήμεναι ἄκριτον αἰεί.\nἤδη μὲν γάρ τοι παῖς τηλίκος, ὃν σὺ μάλιστα\nἠρῶ ἀθανάτοισι γενειήσαντα ἰδέσθαι.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nΕὐρυνόμη, μὴ ταῦτα παραύδα, κηδομένη περ,\nχρῶτʼ ἀπονίπτεσθαι καὶ ἐπιχρίεσθαι ἀλοιφῇ·\nἀγλαΐην γὰρ ἐμοί γε θεοί, τοὶ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν,\nὤλεσαν, ἐξ οὗ κεῖνος ἔβη κοίλῃς ἐνὶ νηυσίν.\nἀλλά μοι Αὐτονόην τε καὶ Ἱπποδάμειαν ἄνωχθι\nἐλθέμεν, ὄφρα κέ μοι παρστήετον ἐν μεγάροισιν·\nοἴη δʼ οὐκ εἴσειμι μετʼ ἀνέρας· αἰδέομαι γάρ.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει\nἀγγελέουσα γυναιξὶ καὶ ὀτρυνέουσα νέεσθαι.\nἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nκούρῃ Ἰκαρίοιο κατὰ γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἔχευεν,\nεὗδε δʼ ἀνακλινθεῖσα, λύθεν δέ οἱ ἅψεα πάντα\nαὐτοῦ ἐνὶ κλιντῆρι· τέως δʼ ἄρα δῖα θεάων\nἄμβροτα δῶρα δίδου, ἵνα μιν θησαίατʼ Ἀχαιοί.\nκάλλεϊ μέν οἱ πρῶτα προσώπατα καλὰ κάθηρεν\nἀμβροσίῳ, οἵῳ περ ἐϋστέφανος Κυθέρεια\nχρίεται, εὖτʼ ἂν ἴῃ Χαρίτων χορὸν ἱμερόεντα·\nκαί μιν μακροτέρην καὶ πάσσονα θῆκεν ἰδέσθαι,\nλευκοτέρην δʼ ἄρα μιν θῆκε πριστοῦ ἐλέφαντος.\nἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς ἔρξασʼ ἀπεβήσετο δῖα θεάων,\nἦλθον δʼ ἀμφίπολοι λευκώλενοι ἐκ μεγάροιο\nφθόγγῳ ἐπερχόμεναι· τὴν δὲ γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἀνῆκε,\nκαί ῥʼ ἀπομόρξατο χερσὶ παρειὰς φώνησέν τε·\nἦ με μάλʼ αἰνοπαθῆ μαλακὸν περὶ κῶμʼ ἐκάλυψεν.\nαἴθε μοι ὣς μαλακὸν θάνατον πόροι Ἄρτεμις ἁγνὴ\nαὐτίκα νῦν, ἵνα μηκέτʼ ὀδυρομένη κατὰ θυμὸν\nαἰῶνα φθινύθω, πόσιος ποθέουσα φίλοιο\nπαντοίην ἀρετήν, ἐπεὶ ἔξοχος ἦεν Ἀχαιῶν.\nὣς φαμένη κατέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα σιγαλόεντα,\nοὐκ οἴη· ἅμα τῇ γε καὶ ἀμφίπολοι δύʼ ἕποντο.\nἡ δʼ ὅτε δὴ μνηστῆρας ἀφίκετο δῖα γυναικῶν,\nστῆ ῥα παρὰ σταθμὸν τέγεος πύκα ποιητοῖο,\nἄντα παρειάων σχομένη λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα·\nἀμφίπολος δʼ ἄρα οἱ κεδνὴ ἑκάτερθε παρέστη.\nτῶν δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατʼ, ἔρῳ δʼ ἄρα θυμὸν ἔθελχθεν,\nπάντες δʼ ἠρήσαντο παραὶ λεχέεσσι κλιθῆναι.\nἡ δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχον προσεφώνεεν, ὃν φίλον υἱόν·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, οὐκέτι τοι φρένες ἔμπεδοι οὐδὲ νόημα·\nπαῖς ἔτʼ ἐὼν καὶ μᾶλλον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ κέρδεʼ ἐνώμας·\nνῦν δʼ, ὅτε δὴ μέγας ἐσσὶ καὶ ἥβης μέτρον ἱκάνεις,\nκαί κέν τις φαίη γόνον ἔμμεναι ὀλβίου ἀνδρός,\nἐς μέγεθος καὶ κάλλος ὁρώμενος, ἀλλότριος φώς,\nοὐκέτι τοι φρένες εἰσὶν ἐναίσιμοι οὐδὲ νόημα.\nοἷον δὴ τόδε ἔργον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐτύχθη,\nὃς τὸν ξεῖνον ἔασας ἀεικισθήμεναι οὕτως.\nπῶς νῦν, εἴ τι ξεῖνος ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισιν\nἥμενος ὧδε πάθοι ῥυστακτύος ἐξ ἀλεγεινῆς;\nσοί κʼ αἶσχος λώβη τε μετʼ ἀνθρώποισι πέλοιτο.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nμῆτερ ἐμή, τὸ μὲν οὔ σε νεμεσσῶμαι κεχολῶσθαι·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ θυμῷ νοέω καὶ οἶδα ἕκαστα,\nἐσθλά τε καὶ τὰ χέρεια· πάρος δʼ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα.\nἀλλά τοι οὐ δύναμαι πεπνυμένα πάντα νοῆσαι·\nἐκ γάρ με πλήσσουσι παρήμενοι ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος\nοἵδε κακὰ φρονέοντες, ἐμοὶ δʼ οὐκ εἰσὶν ἀρωγοί.\nοὐ μέν τοι ξείνου γε καὶ Ἴρου μῶλος ἐτύχθη\nμνηστήρων ἰότητι, βίῃ δʼ ὅ γε φέρτερος ἦεν.\nαἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,\nοὕτω νῦν μνηστῆρες ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισι\nνεύοιεν κεφαλὰς δεδμημένοι, οἱ μὲν ἐν αὐλῇ,\nοἱ δʼ ἔντοσθε δόμοιο, λελῦτο δὲ γυῖα ἑκάστου,\nὡς νῦν Ἶρος κεῖνος ἐπʼ αὐλείῃσι θύρῃσιν\nἧσται νευστάζων κεφαλῇ, μεθύοντι ἐοικώς,\nοὐδʼ ὀρθὸς στῆναι δύναται ποσὶν οὐδὲ νέεσθαι\nοἴκαδʼ, ὅπη οἱ νόστος, ἐπεὶ φίλα γυῖα λέλυνται.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·\nΕὐρύμαχος δʼ ἐπέεσσι προσηύδα Πηνελόπειαν·\nκούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρον Πηνελόπεια,\nεἰ πάντες σε ἴδοιεν ἀνʼ Ἴασον Ἄργος Ἀχαιοί,\nπλέονές κε μνηστῆρες ἐν ὑμετέροισι δόμοισιν\nἠῶθεν δαινύατʼ, ἐπεὶ περίεσσι γυναικῶν\nεἶδός τε μέγεθός τε ἰδὲ φρένας ἔνδον ἐΐσας.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nΕὐρύμαχʼ, ἦ τοι ἐμὴν ἀρετὴν εἶδός τε δέμας τε\nὤλεσαν ἀθάνατοι, ὅτε Ἴλιον εἰσανέβαινον\nἈργεῖοι, μετὰ τοῖσι δʼ ἐμὸς πόσις ᾖεν Ὀδυσσεύς.\nεἰ κεῖνός γʼ ἐλθὼν τὸν ἐμὸν βίον ἀμφιπολεύοι,\nμεῖζόν κε κλέος εἴη ἐμὸν καὶ κάλλιον οὕτως.\nνῦν δʼ ἄχομαι· τόσα γάρ μοι ἐπέσσευεν κακὰ δαίμων.\nἦ μὲν δὴ ὅτε τʼ ᾖε λιπὼν κάτα πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nδεξιτερὴν ἐπὶ καρπῷ ἑλὼν ἐμὲ χεῖρα προσηύδα·\nὦ γύναι, οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω ἐϋκνήμιδας Ἀχαιοὺς\nἐκ Τροίης εὖ πάντας ἀπήμονας ἀπονέεσθαι·\nκαὶ γὰρ Τρῶάς φασι μαχητὰς ἔμμεναι ἄνδρας,\nἠμὲν ἀκοντιστὰς ἠδὲ ῥυτῆρας ὀϊστῶν\nἵππων τʼ ὠκυπόδων ἐπιβήτορας, οἵ κε τάχιστα\nἔκριναν μέγα νεῖκος ὁμοιΐου πολέμοιο.\nτῷ οὐκ οἶδʼ ἤ κέν μʼ ἀνέσει θεός, ἦ κεν ἁλώω\nαὐτοῦ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ· σοὶ δʼ ἐνθάδε πάντα μελόντων.\nμεμνῆσθαι πατρὸς καὶ μητέρος ἐν μεγάροισιν\nὡς νῦν, ἢ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἐμεῦ ἀπονόσφιν ἐόντος·\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ παῖδα γενειήσαντα ἴδηαι,\nγήμασθʼ ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα, τεὸν κατὰ δῶμα λιποῦσα.\nκεῖνος τὼς ἀγόρευε· τὰ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.\nνὺξ δʼ ἔσται ὅτε δὴ στυγερὸς γάμος ἀντιβολήσει\nοὐλομένης ἐμέθεν, τῆς τε Ζεὺς ὄλβον ἀπηύρα.\nἀλλὰ τόδʼ αἰνὸν ἄχος κραδίην καὶ θυμὸν ἱκάνει·\nμνηστήρων οὐχ ἥδε δίκη τὸ πάροιθε τέτυκτο·\nοἵ τʼ ἀγαθήν τε γυναῖκα καὶ ἀφνειοῖο θύγατρα\nμνηστεύειν ἐθέλωσι καὶ ἀλλήλοις ἐρίσωσιν,\nαὐτοὶ τοί γʼ ἀπάγουσι βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,\nκούρης δαῖτα φίλοισι, καὶ ἀγλαὰ δῶρα διδοῦσιν·\nἀλλʼ οὐκ ἀλλότριον βίοτον νήποινον ἔδουσιν.\nὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nοὕνεκα τῶν μὲν δῶρα παρέλκετο, θέλγε δὲ θυμὸν\nμειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι, νόος δέ οἱ ἄλλα μενοίνα.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός,\nκούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρον Πηνελόπεια,\nδῶρα μὲν ὅς κʼ ἐθέλῃσιν Ἀχαιῶν ἐνθάδʼ ἐνεῖκαι,\nδέξασθʼ. οὐ γὰρ καλὸν ἀνήνασθαι δόσιν ἐστίν·\nἡμεῖς δʼ οὔτʼ ἐπὶ ἔργα πάρος γʼ ἴμεν οὔτε πῃ ἄλλῃ,\nπρίν γέ σε τῷ γήμασθαι Ἀχαιῶν ὅς τις ἄριστος.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀντίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος·\nδῶρα δʼ ἄρʼ οἰσέμεναι πρόεσαν κήρυκα ἕκαστος.\nἈντινόῳ μὲν ἔνεικε μέγαν περικαλλέα πέπλον,\nποικίλον· ἐν δʼ ἀρʼ ἔσαν περόναι δυοκαίδεκα πᾶσαι\nχρύσειαι, κληῗσιν ἐϋγνάμπτοις ἀραρυῖαι.\nὅρμον δʼ Εὐρυμάχῳ πολυδαίδαλον αὐτίκʼ ἔνεικε.\nχρύσεον, ἠλέκτροισιν ἐερμένον ἠέλιον ὥς.\nἕρματα δʼ Εὐρυδάμαντι δύω θεράποντες ἔνεικαν,\nτρίγληνα μορόεντα· χάρις δʼ ἀπελάμπετο πολλή.\nἐκ δʼ ἄρα Πεισάνδροιο Πολυκτορίδαο ἄνακτος\nἴσθμιον ἤνεικεν θεράπων, περικαλλὲς ἄγαλμα.\nἄλλο δʼ ἄρʼ ἄλλος δῶρον Ἀχαιῶν καλὸν ἔνεικεν.\nἡ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀνέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα δῖα γυναικῶν,\nτῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἅμʼ ἀμφίπολοι ἔφερον περικαλλέα δῶρα\nοἱ δʼ εἰς ὀρχηστύν τε καὶ ἱμερόεσσαν ἀοιδὴν\nτρεψάμενοι τέρποντο, μένον δʼ ἐπὶ ἕσπερον ἐλθεῖν.\nτοῖσι δὲ τερπομένοισι μέλας ἐπὶ ἕσπερος ἦλθεν.\nαὐτίκα λαμπτῆρας τρεῖς ἵστασαν ἐν μεγάροισιν,\nὄφρα φαείνοιεν· περὶ δὲ ξύλα κάγκανα θῆκαν,\nαὖα πάλαι, περίκηλα, νέον κεκεασμένα χαλκῷ,\nκαὶ δαΐδας μετέμισγον· ἀμοιβηδὶς δʼ ἀνέφαινον\nδμῳαὶ Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος. αὐτὰρ ὁ τῇσιν\nαὐτὸς διογενῆς μετέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nδμῳαὶ Ὀδυσσῆος, δὴν οἰχομένοιο ἄνακτος,\nἔρχεσθε πρὸς δώμαθʼ, ἵνʼ αἰδοίη βασίλεια·\nτῇ δὲ παρʼ ἠλάκατα στροφαλίζετε, τέρπετε δʼ αὐτὴν\nἥμεναι ἐν μεγάρῳ, ἢ εἴρια πείκετε χερσίν·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τούτοισι φάος πάντεσσι παρέξω.\nἤν περ γάρ κʼ ἐθέλωσιν ἐΰθρονον Ἠῶ μίμνειν,\nοὔ τί με νικήσουσι· πολυτλήμων δὲ μάλʼ εἰμί.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἐγέλασσαν, ἐς ἀλλήλας δὲ ἴδοντο.\nτὸν δʼ αἰσχρῶς ἐνένιπε Μελανθὼ καλλιπάρῃος,\nτὴν Δολίος μὲν ἔτικτε, κόμισσε δὲ Πηνελόπεια,\nπαῖδα δὲ ὣς ἀτίταλλε, δίδου δʼ ἄρʼ ἀθύρματα θυμῷ·\nἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς ἔχε πένθος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ Πηνελοπείης,\nἀλλʼ ἥ γʼ Εὐρυμάχῳ μισγέσκετο καὶ φιλέεσκεν.\nἥ ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐνένιπεν ὀνειδείοις ἐπέεσσιν·\nξεῖνε τάλαν, σύ γέ τις φρένας ἐκπεπαταγμένος ἐσσί,\nοὐδʼ ἐθέλεις εὕδειν χαλκήϊον ἐς δόμον ἐλθών,\nἠέ που ἐς λέσχην, ἀλλʼ ἐνθάδε πόλλʼ ἀγορεύεις,\nθαρσαλέως πολλοῖσι μετʼ ἀνδράσιν, οὐδέ τι θυμῷ\nταρβεῖς· ἦ ῥά σε οἶνος ἔχει φρένας, ἤ νύ τοι αἰεὶ\nτοιοῦτος νόος ἐστίν· ὃ καὶ μεταμώνια βάζεις.\nἦ ἀλύεις, ὅτι Ἶρον ἐνίκησας τὸν ἀλήτην;\nμή τίς τοι τάχα Ἴρου ἀμείνων ἄλλος ἀναστῇ,\nὅς τίς σʼ ἀμφὶ κάρη κεκοπὼς χερσὶ στιβαρῇσι\nδώματος ἐκπέμψῃσι, φορύξας αἵματι πολλῷ.\nτὴν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἦ τάχα Τηλεμάχῳ ἐρέω, κύον, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις,\nκεῖσʼ ἐλθών, ἵνα σʼ αὖθι διὰ μελεϊστὶ τάμῃσιν.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἐπέεσσι διεπτοίησε γυναῖκας.\nβὰν δʼ ἴμεναι διὰ δῶμα, λύθεν δʼ ὑπὸ γυῖα ἑκάστης\nταρβοσύνῃ· φὰν γάρ μιν ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ πὰρ λαμπτῆρσι φαείνων αἰθομένοισιν\nἑστήκειν ἐς πάντας ὁρώμενος· ἄλλα δέ οἱ κῆρ\nὥρμαινε φρεσὶν ᾗσιν, ἅ ῥʼ οὐκ ἀτέλεστα γένοντο.\nμνηστῆρας δʼ οὐ πάμπαν ἀγήνορας εἴα Ἀθήνη\nλώβης ἴσχεσθαι θυμαλγέος, ὄφρʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον\nδύη ἄχος κραδίην Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρύμαχος, Πολύβου πάϊς, ἦρχʼ ἀγορεύειν,\nκερτομέων Ὀδυσῆα· γέλω δʼ ἑτάροισιν ἔτευχε.\nκέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγακλειτῆς βασιλείης,\nὄφρʼ εἴπω τά με θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κελεύει.\nοὐκ ἀθεεὶ ὅδʼ ἀνὴρ Ὀδυσήϊον ἐς δόμον ἵκει·\nἔμπης μοι δοκέει δαίδων σέλας ἔμμεναι αὐτοῦ\nκὰκ κεφαλῆς, ἐπεὶ οὔ οἱ ἔνι τρίχες οὐδʼ ἠβαιαί.\nἦ ῥʼ, ἅμα τε προσέειπεν Ὀδυσσῆα πτολίπορθον·\nξεῖνʼ, ἦ ἄρ κʼ ἐθέλοις θητευέμεν, εἴ σʼ ἀνελοίμην,\nἀγροῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῆς—μισθὸς δέ τοι ἄρκιος ἔσται—\nαἱμασιάς τε λέγων καὶ δένδρεα μακρὰ φυτεύων;\nἔνθα κʼ ἐγὼ σῖτον μὲν ἐπηετανὸν παρέχοιμι,\nεἵματα δʼ ἀμφιέσαιμι ποσίν θʼ ὑποδήματα δοίην.\nἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δὴ ἔργα κάκʼ ἔμμαθες, οὐκ ἐθελήσεις\nἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι, ἀλλὰ πτώσσειν κατὰ δῆμον\nβούλεαι, ὄφρʼ ἄν ἔχῃς βόσκειν σὴν γαστέρʼ ἄναλτον.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nΕὐρύμαχʼ, εἰ γὰρ νῶϊν ἔρις ἔργοιο γένοιτο\nὥρῃ ἐν εἰαρινῇ, ὅτε τʼ ἤματα μακρὰ πέλονται,\nἐν ποίῃ, δρέπανον μὲν ἐγὼν εὐκαμπὲς ἔχοιμι,\nκαὶ δὲ σὺ τοῖον ἔχοις, ἵνα πειρησαίμεθα ἔργου\nνήστιες ἄχρι μάλα κνέφαος, ποίη δὲ παρείη.\nεἰ δʼ αὖ καὶ βόες εἶεν ἐλαυνέμεν, οἵ περ ἄριστοι,\nαἴθωνες, μεγάλοι, ἄμφω κεκορηότε ποίης,\nἥλικες, ἰσοφόροι, τῶν τε σθένος οὐκ ἀλαπαδνόν,\nτετράγυον δʼ εἴη, εἴκοι δʼ ὑπὸ βῶλος ἀρότρῳ·\nτῷ κέ μʼ ἴδοις, εἰ ὦλκα διηνεκέα προταμοίμην.\nεἰ δʼ αὖ καὶ πόλεμόν ποθεν ὁρμήσειε Κρονίων\nσήμερον, αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ σάκος εἴη καὶ δύο δοῦρε\nκαὶ κυνέη πάγχαλκος, ἐπὶ κροτάφοις ἀραρυῖα,\nτῷ κέ μʼ ἴδοις πρώτοισιν ἐνὶ προμάχοισι μιγέντα,\nοὐδʼ ἄν μοι τὴν γαστέρʼ ὀνειδίζων ἀγορεύοις.\nἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὑβρίζεις, καί τοι νόος ἐστὶν ἀπηνής·\nκαί πού τις δοκέεις μέγας ἔμμεναι ἠδὲ κραταιός,\nοὕνεκα πὰρ παύροισι καὶ οὐκ ἀγαθοῖσιν ὁμιλεῖς.\nεἰ δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔλθοι καὶ ἵκοιτʼ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nαἶψά κέ τοι τὰ θύρετρα, καὶ εὐρέα περ μάλʼ ἐόντα,\nφεύγοντι στείνοιτο διὲκ προθύροιο θύραζε.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, Εὐρύμαχος δʼ ἐχολώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,\nκαί μιν ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἆ δείλʼ, ἦ τάχα τοι τελέω κακόν, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις\nθαρσαλέως πολλοῖσι μετʼ ἀνδράσιν, οὐδέ τι θυμῷ\nταρβεῖς· ἦ ῥά σε οἶνος ἔχει φρένας, ἤ νύ τοι αἰεὶ\nτοιοῦτος νόος ἐστίν· ὃ καὶ μεταμώνια βάζεις.\nἦ ἀλύεις, ὅτι Ἶρον ἐνίκησας τὸν ἀλήτην;\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας σφέλας ἔλλαβεν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἈμφινόμου πρὸς γοῦνα καθέζετο Δουλιχιῆος,\nΕὐρύμαχον δείσας· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ οἰνοχόον βάλε χεῖρα\nδεξιτερήν· πρόχοος δὲ χαμαὶ βόμβησε πεσοῦσα,\nαὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ οἰμώξας πέσεν ὕπτιος ἐν κονίῃσι.\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ὁμάδησαν ἀνὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα,\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·\nαἴθʼ ὤφελλʼ ὁ ξεῖνος ἀλώμενος ἄλλοθʼ ὀλέσθαι\nπρὶν ἐλθεῖν· τῷ οὔ τι τόσον κέλαδον μετέθηκε.\nνῦν δὲ περὶ πτωχῶν ἐριδαίνομεν, οὐδέ τι δαιτὸς\nἐσθλῆς ἔσσεται ἦδος, ἐπεὶ τὰ χερείονα νικᾷ.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειφʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο\nδαιμόνιοι, μαίνεσθε καὶ οὐκέτι κεύθετε θυμῷ\nβρωτὺν οὐδὲ ποτῆτα· θεῶν νύ τις ὔμμʼ ὀροθύνει.\nἀλλʼ εὖ δαισάμενοι κατακείετε οἴκαδʼ ἰόντες,\nὁππότε θυμὸς ἄνωγε· διώκω δʼ οὔ τινʼ ἐγώ γε.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὀδὰξ ἐν χείλεσι φύντες\nΤηλέμαχον θαύμαζον, ὃ θαρσαλέως ἀγόρευε.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀμφίνομος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε\nΝίσου φαίδιμος υἱός, Ἀρητιάδαο ἄνακτος·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐκ ἂν δή τις ἐπὶ ῥηθέντι δικαίῳ\nἀντιβίοις ἐπέεσσι καθαπτόμενος χαλεπαίνοι·\nμήτε τι τὸν ξεῖνον στυφελίζετε μήτε τινʼ ἄλλον\nδμώων, οἳ κατὰ δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.\nἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ, οἰνοχόος μὲν ἐπαρξάσθω δεπάεσσιν,\nὄφρα σπείσαντες κατακείομεν οἴκαδʼ ἰόντες·\nτὸν ξεῖνον δὲ ἐῶμεν ἐνὶ μεγάροις Ὀδυσῆος\nΤηλεμάχῳ μελέμεν· τοῦ γὰρ φίλον ἵκετο δῶμα.\nὣς φάτο, τοῖσι δὲ πᾶσιν ἑαδότα μῦθον ἔειπε.\nτοῖσιν δὲ κρητῆρα κεράσσατο Μούλιος ἥρως,\nκῆρυξ Δουλιχιεύς· θεράπων δʼ ἦν Ἀμφινόμοιο·\nνώμησεν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπισταδόν· οἱ δὲ θεοῖσι\nσπείσαντες μακάρεσσι πίον μελιηδέα οἶνον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιόν θʼ ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,\nβάν ῥʼ ἴμεναι κείοντες ἑὰ πρὸς δώμαθʼ ἕκαστος.\n\n### Book 19\n\nαὐτὰρ ὁ ἐν μεγάρῳ ὑπελείπετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nμνηστήρεσσι φόνον σὺν Ἀθήνῃ μερμηρίζων·\nαἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nΤηλέμαχε, χρὴ τεύχεʼ ἀρήϊα κατθέμεν εἴσω\nπάντα μάλʼ· αὐτὰρ μνηστῆρας μαλακοῖς ἐπέεσσι\nπαρφάσθαι, ὅτε κέν σε μεταλλῶσιν ποθέοντες·\nἐκ καπνοῦ κατέθηκʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τοῖσιν ἐῴκει\nοἷά ποτε Τροίηνδε κιὼν κατέλειπεν Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἀλλὰ κατῄκισται, ὅσσον πυρὸς ἵκετʼ ἀϋτμή.\nπρὸς δʼ ἔτι καὶ τόδε μεῖζον ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἔμβαλε δαίμων\nμή πως οἰνωθέντες, ἔριν στήσαντες ἐν ὑμῖν,\nἀλλήλους τρώσητε καταισχύνητέ τε δαῖτα\nκαὶ μνηστύν· αὐτὸς γὰρ ἐφέλκεται ἄνδρα σίδηρος.\nὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ φίλῳ ἐπεπείθετο πατρί,\nἐκ δὲ καλεσσάμενος προσέφη τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν·\nμαῖʼ, ἄγε δή μοι ἔρυξον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναῖκας,\nὄφρα κεν ἐς θάλαμον καταθείομαι ἔντεα πατρὸς\nκαλά, τά μοι κατὰ οἶκον ἀκηδέα καπνὸς ἀμέρδει\nπατρὸς ἀποιχομένοιο· ἐγὼ δʼ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα.\nνῦν δʼ ἐθέλω καταθέσθαι, ἵνʼ οὐ πυρὸς ἵξετʼ ἀϋτμή.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·\nαἲ γὰρ δή ποτε, τέκνον, ἐπιφροσύνας ἀνέλοιο\nοἴκου κήδεσθαι καὶ κτήματα πάντα φυλάσσειν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε, τίς τοι ἔπειτα μετοιχομένη φάος οἴσει;\nδμῳὰς δʼ οὐκ εἴας προβλωσκέμεν, αἵ κεν ἔφαινον.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nξεῖνος ὅδʼ· οὐ γὰρ ἀεργὸν ἀνέξομαι ὅς κεν ἐμῆς γε\nχοίνικος ἅπτηται, καὶ τηλόθεν εἰληλουθώς.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, τῇ δʼ ἄπτερος ἔπλετο μῦθος.\nκλήϊσεν δὲ θύρας μεγάρων εὖ ναιεταόντων.\nτὼ δʼ ἄρʼ ἀναΐξαντʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ φαίδιμος υἱὸς\nἐσφόρεον κόρυθάς τε καὶ ἀσπίδας ὀμφαλοέσσας\nἔγχεά τʼ ὀξυόεντα· πάροιθε δὲ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη,\nχρύσεον λύχνον ἔχουσα, φάος περικαλλὲς ἐποίει.\nδὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεεν ὃν πατέρʼ αἶψα·\nὦ πάτερ, ἦ μέγα θαῦμα τόδʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι.\nἔμπης μοι τοῖχοι μεγάρων καλαί τε μεσόδμαι,\nεἰλάτιναί τε δοκοί, καὶ κίονες ὑψόσʼ ἔχοντες\nφαίνοντʼ ὀφθαλμοῖς ὡς εἰ πυρὸς αἰθομένοιο.\nἦ μάλα τις θεὸς ἔνδον, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nσίγα καὶ κατὰ σὸν νόον ἴσχανε μηδʼ ἐρέεινε·\nαὕτη τοι δίκη ἐστὶ θεῶν, οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν.\nἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν κατάλεξαι, ἐγὼ δʼ ὑπολείψομαι αὐτοῦ,\nὄφρα κʼ ἔτι δμῳὰς καὶ μητέρα σὴν ἐρεθίζω·\nἡ δέ μʼ ὀδυρομένη εἰρήσεται ἀμφὶς ἕκαστα.\nὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει\nκείων ἐς θάλαμον, δαΐδων ὕπο λαμπομενάων,\nἔνθα πάρος κοιμᾶθʼ, ὅτε μιν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἱκάνοι·\nἔνθʼ ἄρα καὶ τότʼ ἔλεκτο καὶ Ἠῶ δῖαν ἔμιμνεν.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ ἐν μεγάρῳ ὑπελείπετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nμνηστήρεσσι φόνον σὺν Ἀθήνῃ μερμηρίζων.\nἡ δʼ ἴεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,\nἈρτέμιδι ἰκέλη ἠὲ χρυσέῃ Ἀφροδίτῃ.\nτῇ παρὰ μὲν κλισίην πυρὶ κάτθεσαν, ἔνθʼ ἄρʼ ἐφῖζε,\nδινωτὴν ἐλέφαντι καὶ ἀργύρῳ· ἥν ποτε τέκτων\nποίησʼ Ἰκμάλιος, καὶ ὑπὸ θρῆνυν ποσὶν ἧκε\nπροσφυέʼ ἐξ αὐτῆς, ὅθʼ ἐπὶ μέγα βάλλετο κῶας.\nἔνθα καθέζετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια.\nἦλθον δὲ δμῳαὶ λευκώλενοι ἐκ μεγάροιο.\nαἱ δʼ ἀπὸ μὲν σῖτον πολὺν ᾕρεον ἠδὲ τραπέζας\nκαὶ δέπα, ἔνθεν ἄρʼ ἄνδρες ὑπερμενέοντες ἔπινον·\nπῦρ δʼ ἀπὸ λαμπτήρων χαμάδις βάλον, ἄλλα δʼ ἐπʼ αὐτῶν\nνήησαν ξύλα πολλά, φόως ἔμεν ἠδὲ θέρεσθαι.\nἡ δʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐνένιπε Μελανθὼ δεύτερον αὖτις·\nξεῖνʼ, ἔτι καὶ νῦν ἐνθάδʼ ἀνιήσεις διὰ νύκτα\nδινεύων κατὰ οἶκον, ὀπιπεύσεις δὲ γυναῖκας;\nἀλλʼ ἔξελθε θύραζε, τάλαν, καὶ δαιτὸς ὄνησο·\nἢ τάχα καὶ δαλῷ βεβλημένος εἶσθα θύραζε.\nτὴν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nδαιμονίη, τί μοι ὧδʼ ἐπέχεις κεκοτηότι θυμῷ;\nἦ ὅτι δὴ ῥυπόω, κακὰ δὲ χροῒ εἵματα εἷμαι,\nπτωχεύω δʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον; ἀναγκαίη γὰρ ἐπείγει.\nτοιοῦτοι πτωχοὶ καὶ ἀλήμονες ἄνδρες ἔασι\nκαὶ γὰρ ἐγώ ποτε οἶκον ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔναιον\nὄλβιος ἀφνειὸν καὶ πολλάκι δόσκον ἀλήτῃ,\nτοίῳ ὁποῖος ἔοι καὶ ὅτευ κεχρημένος ἔλθοι·\nἦσαν δὲ δμῶες μάλα μυρίοι, ἄλλα τε πολλὰ\nοἷσίν τʼ εὖ ζώουσι καὶ ἀφνειοὶ καλέονται.\nἀλλὰ Ζεὺς ἀλάπαξε Κρονίων· ἤθελε γάρ που·\nτῷ νῦν μήποτε καὶ σύ, γύναι, ἀπὸ πᾶσαν ὀλέσσῃς\nἀγλαΐην, τῇ νῦν γε μετὰ δμῳῇσι κέκασσαι·\nμή πώς τοι δέσποινα κοτεσσαμένη χαλεπήνῃ,\nἢ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔλθῃ· ἔτι γὰρ καὶ ἐλπίδος αἶσα.\nεἰ δʼ ὁ μὲν ὣς ἀπόλωλε καὶ οὐκέτι νόστιμός ἐστιν,\nἀλλʼ ἤδη παῖς τοῖος Ἀπόλλωνός γε ἕκητι,\nΤηλέμαχος· τὸν δʼ οὔ τις ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναικῶν\nλήθει ἀτασθάλλουσʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τηλίκος ἐστίν.\nὣς φάτο, τοῦ δʼ ἤκουσε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,\nἀμφίπολον δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·\nπάντως, θαρσαλέη, κύον ἀδεές, οὔ τί με λήθεις\nἔρδουσα μέγα ἔργον, ὃ σῇ κεφαλῇ ἀναμάξεις·\nπάντα γὰρ εὖ ᾔδησθʼ, ἐπεὶ ἐξ ἐμεῦ ἔκλυες αὐτῆς\nὡς τὸν ξεῖνον ἔμελλον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσιν\nἀμφὶ πόσει εἴρεσθαι, ἐπεὶ πυκινῶς ἀκάχημαι.\nἦ ῥα καὶ Εὐρυνόμην ταμίην πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·\nΕὐρυνόμη, φέρε δὴ δίφρον καὶ κῶας ἐπʼ αὐτοῦ,\nὄφρα καθεζόμενος εἴπῃ ἔπος ἠδʼ ἐπακούσῃ\nὁ ξεῖνος ἐμέθεν· ἐθέλω δέ μιν ἐξερέεσθαι.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡ δὲ μάλʼ ὀτραλέως κατέθηκε φέρουσα\nδίφρον ἐΰξεστον καὶ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ κῶας ἔβαλλεν·\nἔνθα καθέζετʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nτοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nξεῖνε, τὸ μέν σε πρῶτον ἐγὼν εἰρήσομαι αὐτή·\nτίς πόθεν εἶς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ γύναι, οὐκ ἄν τίς σε βροτῶν ἐπʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν\nνεικέοι· ἦ γάρ σευ κλέος οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἱκάνει,\nὥς τέ τευ ἢ βασιλῆος ἀμύμονος, ὅς τε θεουδὴς\nἀνδράσιν ἐν πολλοῖσι καὶ ἰφθίμοισιν ἀνάσσων\nεὐδικίας ἀνέχῃσι, φέρῃσι δὲ γαῖα μέλαινα\nπυροὺς καὶ κριθάς, βρίθῃσι δὲ δένδρεα καρπῷ,\nτίκτῃ δʼ ἔμπεδα μῆλα, θάλασσα δὲ παρέχῃ ἰχθῦς\nἐξ εὐηγεσίης, ἀρετῶσι δὲ λαοὶ ὑπʼ αὐτοῦ.\nτῷ ἐμὲ νῦν τὰ μὲν ἄλλα μετάλλα σῷ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nμηδʼ ἐμὸν ἐξερέεινε γένος καὶ πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nμή μοι μᾶλλον θυμὸν ἐνιπλήσῃς ὀδυνάων\nμνησαμένῳ μάλα δʼ εἰμὶ πολύστονος· οὐδέ τί με χρὴ\nοἴκῳ ἐν ἀλλοτρίῳ γοόωντά τε μυρόμενόν τε\nἧσθαι, ἐπεὶ κάκιον πενθήμεναι ἄκριτον αἰεί·\nμή τίς μοι δμῳῶν νεμεσήσεται, ἠὲ σύ γʼ αὐτή,\nφῇ δὲ δακρυπλώειν βεβαρηότα με φρένας οἴνῳ.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν ἐμὴν ἀρετὴν εἶδός τε δέμας τε\nὤλεσαν ἀθάνατοι, ὅτε Ἴλιον εἰσανέβαινον\nἈργεῖοι, μετὰ τοῖσι δʼ ἐμὸς πόσις ᾖεν Ὀδυσσεύς\nεἰ κεῖνός γʼ ἐλθὼν τὸν ἐμὸν βίον ἀμφιπολεύοι,\nμεῖζον κε κλέος εἴη ἐμὸν καὶ κάλλιον οὕτως.\nνῦν δʼ ἄχομαι· τόσα γάρ μοι ἐπέσσευεν κακὰ δαίμων.\nὅσσοι γὰρ νήσοισιν ἐπικρατέουσιν ἄριστοι,\nΔουλιχίῳ τε Σάμῃ τε καὶ ὑλήεντι Ζακύνθῳ,\nοἵ τʼ αὐτὴν Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον ἀμφινέμονται,\nοἵ μʼ ἀεκαζομένην μνῶνται, τρύχουσι δὲ οἶκον.\nτῷ οὔτε ξείνων ἐμπάζομαι οὔθʼ ἱκετάων\nοὔτε τι κηρύκων, οἳ δημιοεργοὶ ἔασιν·\nἀλλʼ Ὀδυσῆ ποθέουσα φίλον κατατήκομαι ἦτορ.\nοἱ δὲ γάμον σπεύδουσιν· ἐγὼ δὲ δόλους τολυπεύω.\nφᾶρος μέν μοι πρῶτον ἐνέπνευσε φρεσὶ δαίμων,\nστησαμένῃ μέγαν ἱστόν, ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὑφαίνειν,\nλεπτὸν καὶ περίμετρον· ἄφαρ δʼ αὐτοῖς μετέειπον·\nκοῦροι, ἐμοὶ μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nμίμνετʼ ἐπειγόμενοι τὸν ἐμὸν γάμον, εἰς ὅ κε φᾶρος\nἐκτελέσω—μή μοι μεταμώνια νήματʼ ὄληται—\nΛαέρτῃ ἥρωϊ ταφήϊον, εἰς ὅτε κέν μιν\nμοῖρʼ ὀλοὴ καθέλῃσι τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο·\nμή τίς μοι κατὰ δῆμον Ἀχαιϊάδων νεμεσήσῃ,\nαἴ κεν ἄτερ σπείρου κεῖται πολλὰ κτεατίσσας.\nὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.\nἔνθα καὶ ἠματίη μὲν ὑφαίνεσκον μέγαν ἱστόν,\nνύκτας δʼ ἀλλύεσκον, ἐπεὶ δαΐδας παραθείμην.\nὣς τρίετες μὲν ἔληθον ἐγὼ καὶ ἔπειθον Ἀχαιούς·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε τέτρατον ἦλθεν ἔτος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,\nμηνῶν φθινόντων, περὶ δʼ ἤματα πόλλʼ ἐτελέσθη,\nκαὶ τότε δή με διὰ δμῳάς, κύνας οὐκ ἀλεγούσας,\nεἷλον ἐπελθόντες καὶ ὁμόκλησαν ἐπέεσσιν.\nὣς τὸ μὲν ἐξετέλεσσα, καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλουσʼ, ὑπʼ ἀνάγκης·\nνῦν δʼ οὔτʼ ἐκφυγέειν δύναμαι γάμον οὔτε τινʼ ἄλλην\nμῆτιν ἔθʼ εὑρίσκω· μάλα δʼ ὀτρύνουσι τοκῆες\nγήμασθʼ, ἀσχαλάᾳ δὲ πάϊς βίοτον κατεδόντων,\nγιγνώσκων· ἤδη γὰρ ἀνὴρ οἷός τε μάλιστα\nοἴκου κήδεσθαι, τῷ τε Ζεὺς κῦδος ὀπάζει.\nἀλλὰ καὶ ὥς μοι εἰπὲ τεὸν γένος, ὁππόθεν ἐσσί.\nοὐ γὰρ ἀπὸ δρυός ἐσσι παλαιφάτου οὐδʼ ἀπὸ πέτρης.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,\nοὐκέτʼ ἀπολλήξεις τὸν ἐμὸν γόνον ἐξερέουσα;\nἀλλʼ ἔκ τοι ἐρέω· ἦ μέν μʼ ἀχέεσσί γε δώσεις\nπλείοσιν ἢ ἔχομαι· ἡ γὰρ δίκη, ὁππότε πάτρης\nἧς ἀπέῃσιν ἀνὴρ τόσσον χρόνον ὅσσον ἐγὼ νῦν,\nπολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστεʼ ἀλώμενος, ἄλγεα πάσχων·\nἀλλὰ καὶ ὣς ἐρέω ὅ μʼ ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς.\nΚρήτη τις γαῖʼ ἔστι, μέσῳ ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ,\nκαλὴ καὶ πίειρα, περίρρυτος· ἐν δʼ ἄνθρωποι\nπολλοί, ἀπειρέσιοι, καὶ ἐννήκοντα πόληες.\nἄλλη δʼ ἄλλων γλῶσσα μεμιγμένη· ἐν μὲν Ἀχαιοί,\nἐν δʼ Ἐτεόκρητες μεγαλήτορες, ἐν δὲ Κύδωνες,\nΔωριέες τε τριχάϊκες δῖοί τε Πελασγοί.\nτῇσι δʼ ἐνὶ Κνωσός, μεγάλη πόλις, ἔνθα τε Μίνως\nἐννέωρος βασίλευε Διὸς μεγάλου ὀαριστής,\nπατρὸς ἐμοῖο πατήρ, μεγαθύμου Δευκαλίωνος\nΔευκαλίων δʼ ἐμὲ τίκτε καὶ Ἰδομενῆα ἄνακτα·\nἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἐν νήεσσι κορωνίσιν Ἴλιον εἴσω\nᾤχεθʼ ἅμʼ Ἀτρείδῃσιν, ἐμοὶ δʼ ὄνομα κλυτὸν Αἴθων,\nὁπλότερος γενεῇ· ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρότερος καὶ ἀρείων.\nἔνθʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐγὼν ἰδόμην καὶ ξείνια δῶκα.\nκαὶ γὰρ τὸν Κρήτηνδε κατήγαγεν ἲς ἀνέμοιο,\nἱέμενον Τροίηνδε παραπλάγξασα Μαλειῶν·\nστῆσε δʼ ἐν Ἀμνισῷ, ὅθι τε σπέος Εἰλειθυίης,\nἐν λιμέσιν χαλεποῖσι, μόγις δʼ ὑπάλυξεν ἀέλλας.\nαὐτίκα δʼ Ἰδομενῆα μετάλλα ἄστυδʼ ἀνελθών·\nξεῖνον γάρ οἱ ἔφασκε φίλον τʼ ἔμεν αἰδοῖόν τε.\nτῷ δʼ ἤδη δεκάτη ἢ ἑνδεκάτη πέλεν ἠὼς\nοἰχομένῳ σὺν νηυσὶ κορωνίσιν Ἴλιον εἴσω.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼ πρὸς δώματʼ ἄγων ἐῢ ἐξείνισσα,\nἐνδυκέως φιλέων, πολλῶν κατὰ οἶκον ἐόντων·\nκαί οἱ τοῖς ἄλλοις ἑτάροις, οἳ ἅμʼ αὐτῷ ἕποντο,\nδημόθεν ἄλφιτα δῶκα καὶ αἴθοπα οἶνον ἀγείρας\nκαὶ βοῦς ἱρεύσασθαι, ἵνα πλησαίατο θυμόν.\nἔνθα δυώδεκα μὲν μένον ἤματα δῖοι Ἀχαιοί·\nεἴλει γὰρ Βορέης ἄνεμος μέγας οὐδʼ ἐπὶ γαίῃ\nεἴα ἵστασθαι, χαλεπὸς δέ τις ὤρορε δαίμων.\nτῇ τρισκαιδεκάτῃ δʼ ἄνεμος πέσε, τοὶ δʼ ἀνάγοντο.\nἴσκε ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγων ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα·\nτῆς δʼ ἄρʼ ἀκουούσης ῥέε δάκρυα, τήκετο δὲ χρώς·\nὡς δὲ χιὼν κατατήκετʼ ἐν ἀκροπόλοισιν ὄρεσσιν,\nἥν τʼ Εὖρος κατέτηξεν, ἐπὴν Ζέφυρος καταχεύῃ·\nτηκομένης δʼ ἄρα τῆς ποταμοὶ πλήθουσι ῥέοντες·\nὣς τῆς τήκετο καλὰ παρήϊα δάκρυ χεούσης,\nκλαιούσης ἑὸν ἄνδρα παρήμενον. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nθυμῷ μὲν γοόωσαν ἑὴν ἐλέαιρε γυναῖκα,\nὀφθαλμοὶ δʼ ὡς εἰ κέρα ἕστασαν ἠὲ σίδηρος\nἀτρέμας ἐν βλεφάροισι· δόλῳ δʼ ὅ γε δάκρυα κεῦθεν.\nἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν τάρφθη πολυδακρύτοιο γόοιο,\nἐξαῦτίς μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε·\nνῦν μὲν δή σευ, ξεῖνέ γʼ, ὀΐω πειρήσεσθαι,\nεἰ ἐτεὸν δὴ κεῖθι σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισι\nξείνισας ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμὸν πόσιν, ὡς ἀγορεύεις.\nεἰπέ μοι ὁπποῖʼ ἄσσα περὶ χροῒ εἵματα ἕστο,\nαὐτός θʼ οἷος ἔην, καὶ ἑταίρους, οἵ οἱ ἕποντο.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ γύναι, ἀργαλέον τόσσον χρόνον ἀμφὶς ἐόντα\nεἰπέμεν· ἤδη γάρ οἱ ἐεικοστὸν ἔτος ἐστὶν\nἐξ οὗ κεῖθεν ἔβη καὶ ἐμῆς ἀπελήλυθε πάτρης·\nαὐτάρ τοι ἐρέω ὥς μοι ἰνδάλλεται ἦτορ.\nχλαῖναν πορφυρέην οὔλην ἔχε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nδιπλῆν· αὐτάρ οἱ περόνη χρυσοῖο τέτυκτο\nαὐλοῖσιν διδύμοισι· πάροιθε δὲ δαίδαλον ἦεν·\nἐν προτέροισι πόδεσσι κύων ἔχε ποικίλον ἐλλόν,\nἀσπαίροντα λάων· τὸ δὲ θαυμάζεσκον ἅπαντες,\nὡς οἱ χρύσεοι ἐόντες ὁ μὲν λάε νεβρὸν ἀπάγχων,\nαὐτὰρ ὁ ἐκφυγέειν μεμαὼς ἤσπαιρε πόδεσσι.\nτὸν δὲ χιτῶνʼ ἐνόησα περὶ χροῒ σιγαλόεντα,\nοἷόν τε κρομύοιο λοπὸν κάτα ἰσχαλέοιο·\nτὼς μὲν ἔην μαλακός, λαμπρὸς δʼ ἦν ἠέλιος ὥς·\nἦ μὲν πολλαί γʼ αὐτὸν ἐθηήσαντο γυναῖκες.\nἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·\nοὐκ οἶδʼ ἢ τάδε ἕστο περὶ χροῒ οἴκοθʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἦ τις ἑταίρων δῶκε θοῆς ἐπὶ νηὸς ἰόντι,\nἤ τίς που καὶ ξεῖνος, ἐπεὶ πολλοῖσιν Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἔσκε φίλος· παῦροι γὰρ Ἀχαιῶν ἦσαν ὁμοῖοι.\nκαί οἱ ἐγὼ χάλκειον ἄορ καὶ δίπλακα δῶκα\nκαλὴν πορφυρέην καὶ τερμιόεντα χιτῶνα,\nαἰδοίως δʼ ἀπέπεμπον ἐϋσσέλμου ἐπὶ νηός.\nκαὶ μέν οἱ κῆρυξ ὀλίγον προγενέστερος αὐτοῦ\nεἵπετο· καὶ τόν τοι μυθήσομαι, οἷος ἔην περ.\nγυρὸς ἐν ὤμοισιν, μελανόχροος, οὐλοκάρηνος,\nΕὐρυβάτης δʼ ὄνομʼ ἔσκε· τίεν δέ μιν ἔξοχον ἄλλων\nὧν ἑτάρων Ὀδυσεύς, ὅτι οἱ φρεσὶν ἄρτια ᾔδη.\nὣς φάτο, τῇ δʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο,\nσήματʼ ἀναγνούσῃ τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.\nἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν τάρφθη πολυδακρύτοιο γόοιο.\nκαὶ τότε μιν μύθοισιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε·\nνῦν μὲν δή μοι, ξεῖνε, πάρος περ ἐὼν ἐλεεινός,\nἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσι φίλος τʼ ἔσῃ αἰδοῖός τε·\nαὐτὴ γὰρ τάδε εἵματʼ ἐγὼ πόρον, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις,\nπτύξασʼ ἐκ θαλάμου, περόνην τʼ ἐπέθηκα φαεινὴν\nκείνῳ ἄγαλμʼ ἔμεναι· τὸν δʼ οὐχ ὑποδέξομαι αὖτις\nοἴκαδε νοστήσαντα φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nτῷ ῥα κακῇ αἴσῃ κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς\nᾤχετʼ ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,\nμηκέτι νῦν χρόα καλὸν ἐναίρεο, μηδέ τι θυμὸν\nτῆκε, πόσιν γοόωσα. νεμεσσῶμαί γε μὲν οὐδέν·\nκαὶ γάρ τίς τʼ ἀλλοῖον ὀδύρεται ἄνδρʼ ὀλέσασα\nκουρίδιον, τῷ τέκνα τέκῃ φιλότητι μιγεῖσα,\nἢ Ὀδυσῆʼ, ὅν φασι θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιον εἶναι.\nἀλλὰ γόου μὲν παῦσαι, ἐμεῖο δὲ σύνθεο μῦθον·\nνημερτέως γάρ τοι μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω\nὡς ἤδη Ὀδυσῆος ἐγὼ περὶ νόστου ἄκουσα\nἀγχοῦ, Θεσπρωτῶν ἀνδρῶν ἐν πίονι δήμῳ,\nζωοῦ· αὐτὰρ ἄγει κειμήλια πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλὰ\nαἰτίζων ἀνὰ δῆμον. ἀτὰρ ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους\nὤλεσε καὶ νῆα γλαφυρὴν ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ,\nΘρινακίης ἄπο νήσου ἰών· ὀδύσαντο γὰρ αὐτῷ\nΖεύς τε καὶ Ἠέλιος· τοῦ γὰρ βόας ἔκταν ἑταῖροι.\nοἱ μὲν πάντες ὄλοντο πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ·\nτὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ τρόπιος νεὸς ἔκβαλε κῦμʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου,\nΦαιήκων ἐς γαῖαν, οἳ ἀγχίθεοι γεγάασιν,\nοἳ δή μιν περὶ κῆρι θεὸν ὣς τιμήσαντο\nκαί οἱ πολλὰ δόσαν πέμπειν τέ μιν ἤθελον αὐτοὶ\nοἴκαδʼ ἀπήμαντον. καί κεν πάλαι ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἤην· ἀλλʼ ἄρα οἱ τό γε κέρδιον εἴσατο θυμῷ,\nχρήματʼ ἀγυρτάζειν πολλὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἰόντι·\nὣς περὶ κέρδεα πολλὰ καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων\nοἶδʼ Ὀδυσεύς, οὐδʼ ἄν τις ἐρίσσειε βροτὸς ἄλλος.\nὥς μοι Θεσπρωτῶν βασιλεὺς μυθήσατο Φείδων·\nὤμνυε δὲ πρὸς ἔμʼ αὐτόν, ἀποσπένδων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nνῆα κατειρύσθαι καὶ ἐπαρτέας ἔμμεν ἑταίρους,\nοἳ δή μιν πέμψουσι φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nἀλλʼ ἐμὲ πρὶν ἀπέπεμψε· τύχησε γὰρ ἐρχομένη νηῦς\nἀνδρῶν Θεσπρωτῶν ἐς Δουλίχιον πολύπυρον.\nκαί μοι κτήματʼ ἔδειξεν, ὅσα ξυναγείρατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς·\nκαί νύ κεν ἐς δεκάτην γενεὴν ἕτερόν γʼ ἔτι βόσκοι,\nὅσσα οἱ ἐν μεγάροις κειμήλια κεῖτο ἄνακτος.\nτὸν δʼ ἐς Δωδώνην φάτο βήμεναι, ὄφρα θεοῖο\nἐκ δρυὸς ὑψικόμοιο Διὸς βουλὴν ἐπακούσαι,\nὅππως νοστήσειε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν\nἤδη δὴν ἀπεών, ἢ ἀμφαδὸν ἦε κρυφηδόν.\nὣς ὁ μὲν οὕτως ἐστὶ σόος καὶ ἐλεύσεται ἤδη\nἄγχι μάλʼ, οὐδʼ ἔτι τῆλε φίλων καὶ πατρίδος αἴης\nδηρὸν ἀπεσσεῖται· ἔμπης δέ τοι ὅρκια δώσω.\nἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα, θεῶν ὕπατος καὶ ἄριστος,\nἱστίη τʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ἣν ἀφικάνω·\nἦ μέν τοι τάδε πάντα τελείεται ὡς ἀγορεύω.\nτοῦδʼ αὐτοῦ λυκάβαντος ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nτοῦ μὲν φθίνοντος μηνός, τοῦ δʼ ἱσταμένοιο.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nαἲ γὰρ τοῦτο, ξεῖνε, ἔπος τετελεσμένον εἴη·\nτῷ κε τάχα γνοίης φιλότητά τε πολλά τε δῶρα\nἐξ ἐμεῦ, ὡς ἄν τίς σε συναντόμενος μακαρίζοι.\nἀλλά μοι ὧδʼ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ὀΐεται, ὡς ἔσεταί περ·\nοὔτʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔτι οἶκον ἐλεύσεται, οὔτε σὺ πομπῆς\nτεύξῃ, ἐπεὶ οὐ τοῖοι σημάντορές εἰσʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nοἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκε μετʼ ἀνδράσιν, εἴ ποτʼ ἔην γε,\nξείνους αἰδοίους ἀποπεμπέμεν ἠδὲ δέχεσθαι.\nἀλλά μιν, ἀμφίπολοι, ἀπονίψατε, κάτθετε δʼ εὐνήν,\nδέμνια καὶ χλαίνας καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα,\nὥς κʼ εὖ θαλπιόων χρυσόθρονον Ἠῶ ἵκηται.\nἠῶθεν δὲ μάλʼ ἦρι λοέσσαι τε χρῖσαί τε,\nὥς κʼ ἔνδον παρὰ Τηλεμάχῳ δείπνοιο μέδηται\nἥμενος ἐν μεγάρῳ· τῷ δʼ ἄλγιον ὅς κεν ἐκείνων\nτοῦτον ἀνιάζῃ θυμοφθόρος· οὐδέ τι ἔργον\nἐνθάδʼ ἔτι πρήξει, μάλα περ κεχολωμένος αἰνῶς.\nπῶς γὰρ ἐμεῦ σύ, ξεῖνε, δαήσεαι εἴ τι γυναικῶν\nἀλλάων περίειμι νόον καὶ ἐπίφρονα μῆτιν,\nεἴ κεν ἀϋσταλέος, κακὰ εἱμένος ἐν μεγάροισιν\nδαινύῃ; ἄνθρωποι δὲ μινυνθάδιοι τελέθουσιν.\nὃς μὲν ἀπηνὴς αὐτὸς ἔῃ καὶ ἀπηνέα εἰδῇ,\nτῷ δὲ καταρῶνται πάντες βροτοὶ ἄλγεʼ ὀπίσσω\nζωῷ, ἀτὰρ τεθνεῶτί γʼ ἐφεψιόωνται ἅπαντες·\nὃς δʼ ἂν ἀμύμων αὐτὸς ἔῃ καὶ ἀμύμονα εἰδῇ,\nτοῦ μέν τε κλέος εὐρὺ δὶα ξεῖνοι φορέουσι\nπάντας ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους, πολλοί τέ μιν ἐσθλὸν ἔειπον.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,\nἦ τοι ἐμοὶ χλαῖναι καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα\nἤχθεθʼ, ὅτε πρῶτον Κρήτης ὄρεα νιφόεντα\nνοσφισάμην ἐπὶ νηὸς ἰὼν δολιχηρέτμοιο,\nκείω δʼ ὡς τὸ πάρος περ ἀΰπνους νύκτας ἴαυον·\nπολλὰς γὰρ δὴ νύκτας ἀεικελίῳ ἐνὶ κοίτῃ\nἄεσα καί τʼ ἀνέμεινα ἐΰθρονον Ἠῶ δῖαν.\nοὐδέ τί μοι ποδάνιπτρα ποδῶν ἐπιήρανα θυμῷ\nγίγνεται· οὐδὲ γυνὴ ποδὸς ἅψεται ἡμετέροιο\nτάων αἵ τοι δῶμα κάτα δρήστειραι ἔασιν,\nεἰ μή τις γρηῦς ἔστι παλαιή, κεδνὰ ἰδυῖα,\nἥ τις δὴ τέτληκε τόσα φρεσὶν ὅσσα τʼ ἐγώ περ·\nτῇ δʼ οὐκ ἂν φθονέοιμι ποδῶν ἅψασθαι ἐμεῖο.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nξεῖνε φίλʼ· οὐ γάρ πώ τις ἀνὴρ πεπνυμένος ὧδε\nξείνων τηλεδαπῶν φιλίων ἐμὸν ἵκετο δῶμα,\nὡς σὺ μάλʼ εὐφραδέως πεπνυμένα πάντʼ ἀγορεύεις·\nἔστι δέ μοι γρηῢς πυκινὰ φρεσὶ μήδεʼ ἔχουσα\nἣ κεῖνον δύστηνον ἐῢ τρέφεν ἠδʼ ἀτίταλλε,\nδεξαμένη χείρεσσʼ, ὅτε μιν πρῶτον τέκε μήτηρ,\nἥ σε πόδας νίψει, ὀλιγηπελέουσά περ ἔμπης.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἀνστᾶσα, περίφρων Εὐρύκλεια,\nνίψον σοῖο ἄνακτος ὁμήλικα· καί που Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἤδη τοιόσδʼ ἐστὶ πόδας τοιόσδε τε χεῖρας·\nαἶψα γὰρ ἐν κακότητι βροτοὶ καταγηράσκουσιν.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ κατέσχετο χερσὶ πρόσωπα,\nδάκρυα δʼ ἔκβαλε θερμά, ἔπος δʼ ὀλοφυδνὸν ἔειπεν·\nὤ μοι ἐγὼ σέο, τέκνον, ἀμήχανος· ἦ σε περὶ Ζεὺς\nἀνθρώπων ἤχθηρε θεουδέα θυμὸν ἔχοντα.\nοὐ γάρ πώ τις τόσσα βροτῶν Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ\nπίονα μηρίʼ ἔκηʼ οὐδʼ ἐξαίτους ἑκατόμβας,\nὅσσα σὺ τῷ ἐδίδους, ἀρώμενος ἧος ἵκοιο\nγῆράς τε λιπαρὸν θρέψαιό τε φαίδιμον υἱόν·\nνῦν δέ τοι οἴῳ πάμπαν ἀφείλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.\nοὕτω που καὶ κείνῳ ἐφεψιόωντο γυναῖκες\nξείνων τηλεδαπῶν, ὅτε τευ κλυτὰ δώμαθʼ ἵκοιτο,\nὡς σέθεν αἱ κύνες αἵδε καθεψιόωνται ἅπασαι,\nτάων νῦν λώβην τε καὶ αἴσχεα πόλλʼ ἀλεείνων\nοὐκ ἐάᾳς νίζειν· ἐμὲ δʼ οὐκ ἀέκουσαν ἄνωγε\nκούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρων Πηνελόπεια.\nτῷ σε πόδας νίψω ἅμα τʼ αὐτῆς Πηνελοπείης\nκαὶ σέθεν εἵνεκʼ, ἐπεί μοι ὀρώρεται ἔνδοθι θυμὸς\nκήδεσιν. ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ξυνίει ἔπος, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·\nπολλοὶ δὴ ξεῖνοι ταλαπείριοι ἐνθάδʼ ἵκοντο,\nἀλλʼ οὔ πώ τινά φημι ἐοικότα ὧδε ἰδέσθαι\nὡς σὺ δέμας φωνήν τε πόδας τʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ ἔοικας.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ γρηῦ, οὕτω φασὶν ὅσοι ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν\nἡμέας ἀμφοτέρους, μάλα εἰκέλω ἀλλήλοιϊν\nἔμμεναι, ὡς σύ περ αὐτὴ ἐπιφρονέουσʼ ἀγορεύεις.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ λέβηθʼ ἕλε παμφανόωντα\nτοῦ πόδας ἐξαπένιζεν, ὕδωρ δʼ ἐνεχεύατο πουλὺ\nψυχρόν, ἔπειτα δὲ θερμὸν ἐπήφυσεν. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἷζεν ἐπʼ ἐσχαρόφιν, ποτὶ δὲ σκότον ἐτράπετʼ αἶψα·\nαὐτίκα γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ὀΐσατο, μή ἑ λαβοῦσα\nοὐλὴν ἀμφράσσαιτο καὶ ἀμφαδὰ ἔργα γένοιτο.\nνίζε δʼ ἄρʼ ἆσσον ἰοῦσα ἄναχθʼ ἑόν· αὐτίκα δʼ ἔγνω\nοὐλήν, τήν ποτέ μιν σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι\nΠαρνησόνδʼ ἐλθόντα μετʼ Αὐτόλυκόν τε καὶ υἷας,\nμητρὸς ἑῆς πάτερʼ ἐσθλόν, ὃς ἀνθρώπους ἐκέκαστο\nκλεπτοσύνῃ θʼ ὅρκῳ τε· θεὸς δέ οἱ αὐτὸς ἔδωκεν\nἙρμείας· τῷ γὰρ κεχαρισμένα μηρία καῖεν\nἀρνῶν ἠδʼ ἐρίφων· ὁ δέ οἱ πρόφρων ἅμʼ ὀπήδει.\nΑὐτόλυκος δʼ ἐλθὼν Ἰθάκης ἐς πίονα δῆμον\nπαῖδα νέον γεγαῶτα κιχήσατο θυγατέρος ἧς·\nτόν ῥά οἱ Εὐρύκλεια φίλοις ἐπὶ γούνασι θῆκε\nπαυομένῳ δόρποιο, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nΑὐτόλυκʼ, αὐτὸς νῦν ὄνομʼ εὕρεο ὅττι κε θῆαι\nπαιδὸς παιδὶ φίλῳ· πολυάρητος δέ τοί ἐστιν.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Αὐτόλυκος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·\nγαμβρὸς ἐμὸς θυγάτηρ τε, τίθεσθʼ ὄνομʼ ὅττι κεν εἴπω·\nπολλοῖσιν γὰρ ἐγώ γε ὀδυσσάμενος τόδʼ ἱκάνω,\nἀνδράσιν ἠδὲ γυναιξὶν ἀνὰ χθόνα πουλυβότειραν·\nτῷ δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ὄνομʼ ἔστω ἐπώνυμον· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε,\nὁππότʼ ἂν ἡβήσας μητρώϊον ἐς μέγα δῶμα\nἔλθῃ Παρνησόνδʼ, ὅθι πού μοι κτήματʼ ἔασι,\nτῶν οἱ ἐγὼ δώσω καί μιν χαίροντʼ ἀποπέμψω.\nτῶν ἕνεκʼ ἦλθʼ Ὀδυσεύς, ἵνα οἱ πόροι ἀγλαὰ δῶρα.\nτὸν μὲν ἄρʼ Αὐτόλυκός τε καὶ υἱέες Αὐτολύκοιο\nχερσίν τʼ ἠσπάζοντο ἔπεσσί τε μειλιχίοισι·\nμήτηρ δʼ Ἀμφιθέη μητρὸς περιφῦσʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ\nκύσσʼ ἄρα μιν κεφαλήν τε καὶ ἄμφω φάεα καλά.\nΑὐτόλυκος δʼ υἱοῖσιν ἐκέκλετο κυδαλίμοισι\nδεῖπνον ἐφοπλίσσαι· τοὶ δʼ ὀτρύνοντος ἄκουσαν,\nαὐτίκα δʼ εἰσάγαγον βοῦν ἄρσενα πενταέτηρον·\nτὸν δέρον ἀμφί θʼ ἕπον, καί μιν διέχευαν ἅπαντα,\nμίστυλλόν τʼ ἄρʼ ἐπισταμένως πεῖράν τʼ ὀβελοῖσιν,\nὤπτησάν τε περιφραδέως, δάσσαντό τε μοίρας.\nὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα\nδαίνυντʼ, οὐδέ τι θυμὸς ἐδεύετο δαιτὸς ἐΐσης·\nἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθεν,\nδὴ τότε κοιμήσαντο καὶ ὕπνου δῶρον ἕλοντο.\nἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nβάν ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐς θήρην, ἠμὲν κύνες ἠδὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ\nυἱέες Αὐτολύκου· μετὰ τοῖσι δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἤϊεν· αἰπὺ δʼ ὄρος προσέβαν καταειμένον ὕλῃ\nΠαρνησοῦ, τάχα δʼ ἵκανον πτύχας ἠνεμοέσσας.\nἨέλιος μὲν ἔπειτα νέον προσέβαλλεν ἀρούρας\nἐξ ἀκαλαρρείταο βαθυρρόου Ὠκεανοῖο,\nοἱ δʼ ἐς βῆσσαν ἵκανον ἐπακτῆρες· πρὸ δʼ ἄρʼ αὐτῶν\nἴχνιʼ ἐρευνῶντες κύνες ἤϊσαν, αὐτὰρ ὄπισθεν\nυἱέες Αὐτολύκου· μετὰ τοῖσι δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἤϊεν ἄγχι κυνῶν, κραδάων δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος.\nἔνθα δʼ ἄρʼ ἐν λόχμῃ πυκινῇ κατέκειτο μέγας σῦς·\nτὴν μὲν ἄρʼ οὔτʼ ἀνέμων διάει μένος ὑγρὸν ἀέντων,\nοὔτε μιν Ἠέλιος φαέθων ἀκτῖσιν ἔβαλλεν,\nοὔτʼ ὄμβρος περάασκε διαμπερές· ὣς ἄρα πυκνὴ\nἦεν, ἀτὰρ φύλλων ἐνέην χύσις ἤλιθα πολλή.\nτὸν δʼ ἀνδρῶν τε κυνῶν τε περὶ κτύπος ἦλθε ποδοῖϊν,\nὡς ἐπάγοντες ἐπῇσαν· ὁ δʼ ἀντίος ἐκ ξυλόχοιο\nφρίξας εὖ λοφιήν, πῦρ δʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσι δεδορκώς,\nστῆ ῥʼ αὐτῶν σχεδόθεν· ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρώτιστος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἔσσυτʼ ἀνασχόμενος δολιχὸν δόρυ χειρὶ παχείῃ,\nοὐτάμεναι μεμαώς· ὁ δέ μιν φθάμενος ἔλασεν σῦς\nγουνὸς ὕπερ, πολλὸν δὲ διήφυσε σαρκὸς ὀδόντι\nλικριφὶς ἀΐξας, οὐδʼ ὀστέον ἵκετο φωτός.\nτὸν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς οὔτησε τυχὼν κατὰ δεξιὸν ὦμον,\nἀντικρὺ δὲ διῆλθε φαεινοῦ δουρὸς ἀκωκή·\nκὰδ δʼ ἔπεσʼ ἐν κονίῃσι μακών, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔπτατο θυμός.\nτὸν μὲν ἄρʼ Αὐτολύκου παῖδες φίλοι ἀμφεπένοντο,\nὠτειλὴν δʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος ἀντιθέοιο\nδῆσαν ἐπισταμένως, ἐπαοιδῇ δʼ αἷμα κελαινὸν\nἔσχεθον, αἶψα δʼ ἵκοντο φίλου πρὸς δώματα πατρός.\nτὸν μὲν ἄρʼ Αὐτόλυκός τε καὶ υἱέες Αὐτολύκοιο\nεὖ ἰησάμενοι ἠδʼ ἀγλαὰ δῶρα πορόντες\nκαρπαλίμως χαίροντα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔπεμπον\nεἰς Ἰθάκην. τῷ μέν ῥα πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ\nχαῖρον νοστήσαντι καὶ ἐξερέεινον ἕκαστα,\nοὐλὴν ὅττι πάθοι· ὁ δʼ ἄρα σφίσιν εὖ κατέλεξεν\nὥς μιν θηρεύοντʼ ἔλασεν σῦς λευκῷ ὀδόντι,\nΠαρνησόνδʼ ἐλθόντα σὺν υἱάσιν Αὐτολύκοιο.\nτὴν γρηῢς χείρεσσι καταπρηνέσσι λαβοῦσα\nγνῶ ῥʼ ἐπιμασσαμένη, πόδα δὲ προέηκε φέρεσθαι·\nἐν δὲ λέβητι πέσε κνήμη, κανάχησε δὲ χαλκός,\nἂψ δʼ ἑτέρωσʼ ἐκλίθη· τὸ δʼ ἐπὶ χθονὸς ἐξέχυθʼ ὕδωρ.\nτὴν δʼ ἅμα χάρμα καὶ ἄλγος ἕλε φρένα, τὼ δέ οἱ ὄσσε\nδακρυόφι πλῆσθεν, θαλερὴ δέ οἱ ἔσχετο φωνή.\nἁψαμένη δὲ γενείου Ὀδυσσῆα προσέειπεν·\nἦ μάλʼ Ὀδυσσεύς ἐσσι, φίλον τέκος· οὐδέ σʼ ἐγώ γε\nπρὶν ἔγνων, πρὶν πάντα ἄνακτʼ ἐμὸν ἀμφαφάασθαι.\nἦ καὶ Πηνελόπειαν ἐσέδρακεν ὀφθαλμοῖσι,\nπεφραδέειν ἐθέλουσα φίλον πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα.\nἡ δʼ οὔτʼ ἀθρῆσαι δύνατʼ ἀντίη οὔτε νοῆσαι·\nτῇ γὰρ Ἀθηναίη νόον ἔτραπεν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nχεῖρʼ ἐπιμασσάμενος φάρυγος λάβε δεξιτερῆφι,\nτῇ δʼ ἑτέρῃ ἕθεν ἆσσον ἐρύσσατο φώνησέν τε.\nμαῖα, τίη μʼ ἐθέλεις ὀλέσαι; σὺ δέ μʼ ἔτρεφες αὐτὴ\nτῷ σῷ ἐπὶ μαζῷ· νῦν δʼ ἄλγεα πολλὰ μογήσας\nἤλυθον εἰκοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ ἐφράσθης καί τοι θεὸς ἔμβαλε θυμῷ,\nσίγα, μή τίς τʼ ἄλλος ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πύθηται.\nὧδε γὰρ ἐξερέω, καὶ μὴν τετελεσμένον ἔσται·\nεἴ χʼ ὑπʼ ἐμοί γε θεὸς δαμάσῃ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,\nοὐδὲ τροφοῦ οὔσης σεῦ ἀφέξομαι, ὁππότʼ ἂν ἄλλας\nδμῳὰς ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖς κτείνωμι γυναῖκας.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Εὐρύκλεια·\nτέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων.\nοἶσθα μὲν οἷον ἐμὸν μένος ἔμπεδον οὐδʼ ἐπιεικτόν,\nἕξω δʼ ὡς ὅτε τις στερεὴ λίθος ἠὲ σίδηρος.\nἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·\nεἴ χʼ ὑπό σοι γε θεὸς δαμάσῃ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,\nδὴ τότε τοι καταλέξω ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναῖκας,\nαἵ τέ σʼ ἀτιμάζουσι καὶ αἳ νηλείτιδές εἰσι.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς\nμαῖα, τίη δὲ σὺ τὰς μυθήσεαι; οὐδέ τί σε χρή.\nεὖ νυ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐγὼ φράσομαι καὶ εἴσομʼ ἑκάστην·\nἀλλʼ ἔχε σιγῇ μῦθον, ἐπίτρεψον δὲ θεοῖσιν.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει\nοἰσομένη ποδάνιπτρα· τὰ γὰρ πρότερʼ ἔκχυτο πάντα.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ νίψεν τε καὶ ἤλειψεν λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ,\nαὖτις ἄρʼ ἀσσοτέρω πυρὸς ἕλκετο δίφρον Ὀδυσσεὺς\nθερσόμενος, οὐλὴν δὲ κατὰ ῥακέεσσι κάλυψε.\nτοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nξεῖνε, τὸ μέν σʼ ἔτι τυτθὸν ἐγὼν εἰρήσομαι αὐτή·\nκαὶ γὰρ δὴ κοίτοιο τάχʼ ἔσσεται ἡδέος ὥρη,\nὅν τινά γʼ ὕπνος ἕλοι γλυκερός, καὶ κηδόμενόν περ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ καὶ πένθος ἀμέτρητον πόρε δαίμων·\nἤματα μὲν γὰρ τέρπομʼ ὀδυρομένη, γοόωσα,\nἔς τʼ ἐμὰ ἔργʼ ὁρόωσα καὶ ἀμφιπόλων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ·\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν νὺξ ἔλθῃ, ἕλῃσί τε κοῖτος ἅπαντας,\nκεῖμαι ἐνὶ λέκτρῳ, πυκιναὶ δέ μοι ἀμφʼ ἀδινὸν κῆρ\nὀξεῖαι μελεδῶνες ὀδυρομένην ἐρέθουσιν.\nὡς δʼ ὅτε Πανδαρέου κούρη, χλωρηῒς ἀηδών,\nκαλὸν ἀείδῃσιν ἔαρος νέον ἱσταμένοιο,\nδενδρέων ἐν πετάλοισι καθεζομένη πυκινοῖσιν,\nἥ τε θαμὰ τρωπῶσα χέει πολυηχέα φωνήν,\nπαῖδʼ ὀλοφυρομένη Ἴτυλον φίλον, ὅν ποτε χαλκῷ\nκτεῖνε διʼ ἀφραδίας, κοῦρον Ζήθοιο ἄνακτος,\nὣς καὶ ἐμοὶ δίχα θυμὸς ὀρώρεται ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,\nἠὲ μένω παρὰ παιδὶ καὶ ἔμπεδα πάντα φυλάσσω,\nκτῆσιν ἐμήν, δμῶάς τε καὶ ὑψερεφὲς μέγα δῶμα,\nεὐνήν τʼ αἰδομένη πόσιος δήμοιό τε φῆμιν,\nἦ ἤδη ἅμʼ ἕπωμαι Ἀχαιῶν ὅς τις ἄριστος\nμνᾶται ἐνὶ μεγάροισι, πορὼν ἀπερείσια ἕδνα.\nπαῖς δʼ ἐμὸς ἧος ἔην ἔτι νήπιος ἠδὲ χαλίφρων,\nγήμασθʼ οὔ μʼ εἴα πόσιος κατὰ δῶμα λιποῦσαν·\nνῦν δʼ ὅτε δὴ μέγας ἐστὶ καὶ ἥβης μέτρον ἱκάνει,\nκαὶ δή μʼ ἀρᾶται πάλιν ἐλθέμεν ἐκ μεγάροιο,\nκτήσιος ἀσχαλόων, τήν οἱ κατέδουσιν Ἀχαιοί.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τὸν ὄνειρον ὑπόκριναι καὶ ἄκουσον.\nχῆνές μοι κατὰ οἶκον ἐείκοσι πυρὸν ἔδουσιν\nἐξ ὕδατος, καί τέ σφιν ἰαίνομαι εἰσορόωσα·\nἐλθὼν δʼ ἐξ ὄρεος μέγας αἰετὸς ἀγκυλοχείλης\nπᾶσι κατʼ αὐχένας ἦξε καὶ ἔκτανεν· οἱ δʼ ἐκέχυντο\nἀθρόοι ἐν μεγάροις, ὁ δʼ ἐς αἰθέρα δῖαν ἀέρθη.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ κλαῖον καὶ ἐκώκυον ἔν περ ὀνείρῳ,\nἀμφὶ δʼ ἔμʼ ἠγερέθοντο ἐϋπλοκαμῖδες Ἀχαιαί,\nοἴκτρʼ ὀλοφυρομένην ὅ μοι αἰετὸς ἔκτανε χῆνας.\nἂψ δʼ ἐλθὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ προὔχοντι μελάθρῳ,\nφωνῇ δὲ βροτέῃ κατερήτυε φώνησέν τε·\nθάρσει, Ἰκαρίου κούρη τηλεκλειτοῖο·\nοὐκ ὄναρ, ἀλλʼ ὕπαρ ἐσθλόν, ὅ τοι τετελεσμένον ἔσται.\nχῆνες μὲν μνηστῆρες, ἐγὼ δέ τοι αἰετὸς ὄρνις\nἦα πάρος, νῦν αὖτε τεὸς πόσις εἰλήλουθα,\nὃς πᾶσι μνηστῆρσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφήσω.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ μελιηδὴς ὕπνος ἀνῆκε·\nπαπτήνασα δὲ χῆνας ἐνὶ μεγάροισι νόησα\nπυρὸν ἐρεπτομένους παρὰ πύελον, ἧχι πάρος περ.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ γύναι, οὔ πως ἔστιν ὑποκρίνασθαι ὄνειρον\nἄλλῃ ἀποκλίναντʼ, ἐπεὶ ἦ ῥά τοι αὐτὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς\nπέφραδʼ ὅπως τελέει· μνηστῆρσι δὲ φαίνετʼ ὄλεθρος\nπᾶσι μάλʼ, οὐδέ κέ τις θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξει.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν ὄνειροι ἀμήχανοι ἀκριτόμυθοι\nγίγνοντʼ, οὐδέ τι πάντα τελείεται ἀνθρώποισι.\nδοιαὶ γάρ τε πύλαι ἀμενηνῶν εἰσὶν ὀνείρων·\nαἱ μὲν γὰρ κεράεσσι τετεύχαται, αἱ δʼ ἐλέφαντι·\nτῶν οἳ μέν κʼ ἔλθωσι διὰ πριστοῦ ἐλέφαντος,\nοἵ ῥʼ ἐλεφαίρονται, ἔπεʼ ἀκράαντα φέροντες·\nοἱ δὲ διὰ ξεστῶν κεράων ἔλθωσι θύραζε,\nοἵ ῥʼ ἔτυμα κραίνουσι, βροτῶν ὅτε κέν τις ἴδηται.\nἀλλʼ ἐμοὶ οὐκ ἐντεῦθεν ὀΐομαι αἰνὸν ὄνειρον\nἐλθέμεν· ἦ κʼ ἀσπαστὸν ἐμοὶ καὶ παιδὶ γένοιτο.\nἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·\nἥδε δὴ ἠὼς εἶσι δυσώνυμος, ἥ μʼ Ὀδυσῆος\nοἴκου ἀποσχήσει· νῦν γὰρ καταθήσω ἄεθλον,\nτοὺς πελέκεας, τοὺς κεῖνος ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἑοῖσιν\nἵστασχʼ ἑξείης, δρυόχους ὥς, δώδεκα πάντας·\nστὰς δʼ ὅ γε πολλὸν ἄνευθε διαρρίπτασκεν ὀϊστόν.\nνῦν δὲ μνηστήρεσσιν ἄεθλον τοῦτον ἐφήσω·\nὃς δέ κε ῥηΐτατʼ ἐντανύσῃ βιὸν ἐν παλάμῃσι\nκαὶ διοϊστεύσῃ πελέκεων δυοκαίδεκα πάντων,\nτῷ κεν ἅμʼ ἑσποίμην, νοσφισσαμένη τόδε δῶμα\nκουρίδιον, μάλα καλόν, ἐνίπλειον βιότοιο·\nτοῦ ποτὲ μεμνήσεσθαι ὀΐομαι ἔν περ ὀνείρῳ.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς\nὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,\nμηκέτι νῦν ἀνάβαλλε δόμοις ἔνι τοῦτον ἄεθλον·\nπρὶν γάρ τοι πολύμητις ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,\nπρὶν τούτους τόδε τόξον ἐΰξοον ἀμφαφόωντας\nνευρήν τʼ ἐντανύσαι διοϊστεῦσαί τε σιδήρου.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nεἴ κʼ ἐθέλοις μοι, ξεῖνε, παρήμενος ἐν μεγάροισι\nτέρπειν, οὔ κέ μοι ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι χυθείη.\nἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ πως ἔστιν ἀΰπνους ἔμμεναι αἰεὶ\nἀνθρώπους· ἐπὶ γάρ τοι ἑκάστῳ μοῖραν ἔθηκαν\nἀθάνατοι θνητοῖσιν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼν ὑπερώϊον εἰσαναβᾶσα\nλέξομαι εἰς εὐνήν, ἥ μοι στονόεσσα τέτυκται,\nαἰεὶ δάκρυσʼ ἐμοῖσι πεφυρμένη, ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nᾤχετʼ ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν.\nἔνθα κε λεξαίμην· σὺ δὲ λέξεο τῷδʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nἢ χαμάδις στορέσας ἤ τοι κατὰ δέμνια θέντων.\nὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀνέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα σιγαλόεντα,\nοὐκ οἴη, ἅμα τῇ γε καὶ ἀμφίπολοι κίον ἄλλαι.\nἐς δʼ ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶ\nκλαῖεν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα, φίλον πόσιν, ὄφρα οἱ ὕπνον\nἡδὺν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι βάλε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.\n\n### Book 20\n\nαὐτὰρ ὁ ἐν προδόμῳ εὐνάζετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nκὰμ μὲν ἀδέψητον βοέην στόρεσʼ, αὐτὰρ ὕπερθε\nκώεα πόλλʼ ὀΐων, τοὺς ἱρεύεσκον Ἀχαιοί·\nΕὐρυνόμη δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ χλαῖναν βάλε κοιμηθέντι.\nἔνθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς μνηστῆρσι κακὰ φρονέων ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nκεῖτʼ ἐγρηγορόων· ταὶ δʼ ἐκ μεγάροιο γυναῖκες\nἤϊσαν, αἳ μνηστῆρσιν ἐμισγέσκοντο πάρος περ,\nἀλλήλῃσι γέλω τε καὶ εὐφροσύνην παρέχουσαι.\nτοῦ δʼ ὠρίνετο θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισι·\nπολλὰ δὲ μερμήριζε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,\nἠὲ μεταΐξας θάνατον τεύξειεν ἑκάστῃ,\nἦ ἔτʼ ἐῷ μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι μιγῆναι\nὕστατα καὶ πύματα, κραδίη δέ οἱ ἔνδον ὑλάκτει.\nὡς δὲ κύων ἀμαλῇσι περὶ σκυλάκεσσι βεβῶσα\nἄνδρʼ ἀγνοιήσασʼ ὑλάει μέμονέν τε μάχεσθαι,\nὥς ῥα τοῦ ἔνδον ὑλάκτει ἀγαιομένου κακὰ ἔργα·\nστῆθος δὲ πλήξας κραδίην ἠνίπαπε μύθῳ·\nτέτλαθι δή, κραδίη· καὶ κύντερον ἄλλο ποτʼ ἔτλης.\nἤματι τῷ ὅτε μοι μένος ἄσχετος ἤσθιε Κύκλωψ\nἰφθίμους ἑτάρους· σὺ δʼ ἐτόλμας, ὄφρα σε μῆτις\nἐξάγαγʼ ἐξ ἄντροιο ὀϊόμενον θανέεσθαι.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, ἐν στήθεσσι καθαπτόμενος φίλον ἦτορ·\nτῷ δὲ μάλʼ ἐν πείσῃ κραδίη μένε τετληυῖα\nνωλεμέως· ἀτὰρ αὐτὸς ἑλίσσετο ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα.\nὡς δʼ ὅτε γαστέρʼ ἀνὴρ πολέος πυρὸς αἰθομένοιο,\nἐμπλείην κνίσης τε καὶ αἵματος, ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα\nαἰόλλῃ, μάλα δʼ ὦκα λιλαίεται ὀπτηθῆναι,\nὣς ἄρʼ ὅ γʼ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα ἑλίσσετο, μερμηρίζων\nὅππως δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσει\nμοῦνος ἐὼν πολέσι. σχεδόθεν δέ οἱ ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη\nοὐρανόθεν καταβᾶσα· δέμας δʼ ἤϊκτο γυναικί·\nστῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·\nτίπτʼ αὖτʼ ἐγρήσσεις, πάντων περὶ κάμμορε φωτῶν;\nοἶκος μέν τοι ὅδʼ ἐστί, γυνὴ δέ τοι ἥδʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nκαὶ, πάϊς, οἷόν πού τις ἐέλδεται ἔμμεναι υἷα.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε πάντα, θεά, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες·\nἀλλά τί μοι τόδε θυμὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμηρίζει,\nὅππως δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσω,\nμοῦνος ἐών· οἱ δʼ αἰὲν ἀολλέες ἔνδον ἔασι.\nπρὸς δʼ ἔτι καὶ τόδε μεῖζον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμηρίζω·\nεἴ περ γὰρ κτείναιμι Διός τε σέθεν τε ἕκητι,\nπῆ κεν ὑπεκπροφύγοιμι; τά σε φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nσχέτλιε, καὶ μέν τίς τε χερείονι πείθεθʼ ἑταίρῳ,\nὅς περ θνητός τʼ ἐστὶ καὶ οὐ τόσα μήδεα οἶδεν·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ θεός εἰμι, διαμπερὲς ἥ σε φυλάσσω\nἐν πάντεσσι πόνοις. ἐρέω δέ τοι ἐξαναφανδόν·\nεἴ περ πεντήκοντα λόχοι μερόπων ἀνθρώπων\nνῶϊ περισταῖεν, κτεῖναι μεμαῶτες Ἄρηϊ,\nκαί κεν τῶν ἐλάσαιο βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα.\nἀλλʼ ἑλέτω σε καὶ ὕπνος· ἀνίη καὶ τὸ φυλάσσειν\nπάννυχον ἐγρήσσοντα, κακῶν δʼ ὑποδύσεαι ἤδη.\nὣς φάτο, καί ῥά οἱ ὕπνον ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔχευεν,\nαὐτὴ δʼ ἂψ ἐς Ὄλυμπον ἀφίκετο δῖα θεάων.\nεὖτε τὸν ὕπνος ἔμαρπτε, λύων μελεδήματα θυμοῦ,\nλυσιμελής, ἄλοχος δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπέγρετο κεδνὰ ἰδυῖα·\nκλαῖε δʼ ἄρʼ ἐν λέκτροισι καθεζομένη μαλακοῖσιν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κλαίουσα κορέσσατο ὃν κατὰ θυμόν,\nἈρτέμιδι πρώτιστον ἐπεύξατο δῖα γυναικῶν·\nἌρτεμι, πότνα θεά, θύγατερ Διός, αἴθε μοι ἤδη\nἰὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι βαλοῦσʼ ἐκ θυμὸν ἕλοιο\nαὐτίκα νῦν, ἢ ἔπειτα μʼ ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα\nοἴχοιτο προφέρουσα κατʼ ἠερόεντα κέλευθα,\nἐν προχοῇς δὲ βάλοι ἀψορρόου Ὠκεανοῖο.\nὡς δʼ ὅτε Πανδαρέου κούρας ἀνέλοντο θύελλαι·\nτῇσι τοκῆας μὲν φθῖσαν θεοί, αἱ δʼ ἐλίποντο\nὀρφαναὶ ἐν μεγάροισι, κόμισσε δὲ δῖʼ Ἀφροδίτη\nτυρῷ καὶ μέλιτι γλυκερῷ καὶ ἡδέϊ οἴνῳ·\nἭρη δʼ αὐτῇσιν περὶ πασέων δῶκε γυναικῶν\nεἶδος καὶ πινυτήν, μῆκος δʼ ἔπορʼ Ἄρτεμις ἁγνή,\nἔργα δʼ Ἀθηναίη δέδαε κλυτὰ ἐργάζεσθαι.\nεὖτʼ Ἀφροδίτη δῖα προσέστιχε μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον,\nκούρῃς αἰτήσουσα τέλος θαλεροῖο γάμοιο—\nἐς Δία τερπικέραυνον, ὁ γάρ τʼ εὖ οἶδεν ἅπαντα,\nμοῖράν τʼ ἀμμορίην τε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων—\nτόφρα δὲ τὰς κούρας ἅρπυιαι ἀνηρείψαντο\nκαί ῥʼ ἔδοσαν στυγερῇσιν ἐρινύσιν ἀμφιπολεύειν·\nὣς ἔμʼ ἀϊστώσειαν Ὀλύμπια δώματʼ ἔχοντες,\nἠέ μʼ ἐϋπλόκαμος βάλοι Ἄρτεμις, ὄφρʼ Ὀδυσῆα\nὀσσομένη καὶ γαῖαν ὕπο στυγερὴν ἀφικοίμην,\nμηδέ τι χείρονος ἀνδρὸς ἐϋφραίνοιμι νόημα.\nἀλλὰ τὸ μὲν καὶ ἀνεκτὸν ἔχει κακόν, ὁππότε κέν τις\nἤματα μὲν κλαίῃ, πυκινῶς ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ,\nνύκτας δʼ ὕπνος ἔχῃσιν—ὁ γάρ τʼ ἐπέλησεν ἁπάντων,\nἐσθλῶν ἠδὲ κακῶν, ἐπεὶ ἄρ βλέφαρʼ ἀμφικαλύψῃ—\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ καὶ ὀνείρατʼ ἐπέσσευεν κακὰ δαίμων.\nτῇδε γὰρ αὖ μοι νυκτὶ παρέδραθεν εἴκελος αὐτῷ,\nτοῖος ἐὼν οἷος ᾖεν ἅμα στρατῷ· αὐτὰρ ἐμὸν κῆρ\nχαῖρʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἐφάμην ὄναρ ἔμμεναι, ἀλλʼ ὕπαρ ἤδη.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτίκα δὲ χρυσόθρονος ἤλυθεν Ἠώς.\nτῆς δʼ ἄρα κλαιούσης ὄπα σύνθετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nμερμήριζε δʼ ἔπειτα, δόκησε δέ οἱ κατὰ θυμὸν\nἤδη γιγνώσκουσα παρεστάμεναι κεφαλῆφι.\nχλαῖναν μὲν συνελὼν καὶ κώεα, τοῖσιν ἐνεῦδεν,\nἐς μέγαρον κατέθηκεν ἐπὶ θρόνου, ἐκ δὲ βοείην\nθῆκε θύραζε φέρων, Διὶ δʼ εὔξατο χεῖρας ἀνασχών·\nΖεῦ πάτερ, εἴ μʼ ἐθέλοντες ἐπὶ τραφερήν τε καὶ ὑγρὴν\nἤγετʼ ἐμὴν ἐς γαῖαν, ἐπεί μʼ ἐκακώσατε λίην,\nφήμην τίς μοι φάσθω ἐγειρομένων ἀνθρώπων\nἔνδοθεν, ἔκτοσθεν δὲ Διὸς τέρας ἄλλο φανήτω.\nὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος· τοῦ δʼ ἔκλυε μητίετα Ζεύς,\nαὐτίκα δʼ ἐβρόντησεν ἀπʼ αἰγλήεντος Ὀλύμπου,\nὑψόθεν ἐκ νεφέων· γήθησε δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nφήμην δʼ ἐξ οἴκοιο γυνὴ προέηκεν ἀλετρὶς\nπλησίον, ἔνθʼ ἄρα οἱ μύλαι ἥατο ποιμένι λαῶν,\nτῇσιν δώδεκα πᾶσαι ἐπερρώοντο γυναῖκες\nἄλφιτα τεύχουσαι καὶ ἀλείατα, μυελὸν ἀνδρῶν.\nαἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἄλλαι εὗδον, ἐπεὶ κατὰ πυρὸν ἄλεσσαν,\nἡ δὲ μίʼ οὔπω παύετʼ, ἀφαυροτάτη δʼ ἐτέτυκτο·\nἥ ῥα μύλην στήσασα ἔπος φάτο, σῆμα ἄνακτι·\nΖεῦ πάτερ, ὅς τε θεοῖσι καὶ ἀνθρώποισιν ἀνάσσεις,\nἦ μεγάλʼ ἐβρόντησας ἀπʼ οὐρανοῦ ἀστερόεντος,\nοὐδέ ποθι νέφος ἐστί· τέρας νύ τεῳ τόδε φαίνεις.\nκρῆνον νῦν καὶ ἐμοὶ δειλῇ ἔπος, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·\nμνηστῆρες πύματόν τε καὶ ὕστατον ἤματι τῷδε\nἐν μεγάροις Ὀδυσῆος ἑλοίατο δαῖτʼ ἐρατεινήν,\nοἳ δή μοι καμάτῳ θυμαλγέι· γούνατʼ ἔλυσαν\nἄλφιτα τευχούσῃ· νῦν ὕστατα δειπνήσειαν.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, χαῖρεν δὲ κλεηδόνι δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nΖηνός τε βροντῇ· φάτο γὰρ τίσασθαι ἀλείτας.\nαἱ δʼ ἄλλαι δμῳαὶ κατὰ δώματα κάλʼ Ὀδυσῆος\nἀγρόμεναι ἀνέκαιον ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἀκάματον πῦρ.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ εὐνῆθεν ἀνίστατο, ἰσόθεος φώς,\nεἵματα ἑσσάμενος· περὶ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτʼ ὤμῳ·\nποσσὶ δʼ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,\nεἵλετο δʼ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος, ἀκαχμένον ὀξέι· χαλκῷ·\nστῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰών, πρὸς δʼ Εὐρύκλειαν ἔειπε·\nμαῖα φίλη, τὸν ξεῖνον ἐτιμήσασθʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nεὐνῇ καὶ σίτῳ, ἦ αὔτως κεῖται ἀκηδής;\nτοιαύτη γὰρ ἐμὴ μήτηρ, πινυτή περ ἐοῦσα·\nἐμπλήγδην ἕτερόν γε τίει μερόπων ἀνθρώπων\nχείρονα, τὸν δέ τʼ ἀρείονʼ ἀτιμήσασʼ ἀποπέμπει.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Εὐρύκλεια·\nοὐκ ἄν μιν νῦν, τέκνον, ἀναίτιον αἰτιόῳο.\nοἶνον μὲν γὰρ πῖνε καθήμενος, ὄφρʼ ἔθελʼ αὐτός,\nσίτου δʼ οὐκέτʼ ἔφη πεινήμεναι· εἴρετο γάρ μιν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ κοίτοιο καὶ ὕπνου μιμνήσκοιτο,\nἡ μὲν δέμνιʼ ἄνωγεν ὑποστορέσαι δμῳῇσιν,\nαὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ, ὥς τις πάμπαν ὀϊζυρὸς καὶ ἄποτμος,\nοὐκ ἔθελʼ ἐν λέκτροισι καὶ ἐν ῥήγεσσι καθεύδειν,\nἀλλʼ ἐν ἀδεψήτῳ βοέῃ καὶ κώεσιν οἰῶν\nἔδραθʼ ἐνὶ προδόμῳ· χλαῖναν δʼ ἐπιέσσαμεν ἡμεῖς.\nὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει\nἔγχος ἔχων, ἅμα τῷ γε δύω κύνες ἀργοὶ ἕποντο.\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν εἰς ἀγορὴν μετʼ ἐϋκνήμιδας Ἀχαιούς.\nἡ δʼ αὖτε δμῳῇσιν ἐκέκλετο δῖα γυναικῶν,\nΕὐρύκλειʼ, Ὦπος θυγάτηρ Πεισηνορίδαο·\nἀγρεῖθʼ, αἱ μὲν δῶμα κορήσατε ποιπνύσασαι,\nῥάσσατέ τʼ, ἔν τε θρόνοις εὐποιήτοισι τάπητας\nβάλλετε πορφυρέους· αἱ δὲ σπόγγοισι τραπέζας\nπάσας ἀμφιμάσασθε, καθήρατε δὲ κρητῆρας\nκαὶ δέπα ἀμφικύπελλα τετυγμένα· ταὶ δὲ μεθʼ ὕδωρ\nἔρχεσθε κρήνηνδε, καὶ οἴσετε θᾶσσον ἰοῦσαι.\nοὐ γὰρ δὴν μνηστῆρες ἀπέσσονται μεγάροιο,\nἀλλὰ μάλʼ ἦρι νέονται, ἐπεὶ καὶ πᾶσιν ἑορτή.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἄρα τῆς μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο.\nαἱ μὲν ἐείκοσι βῆσαν ἐπὶ κρήνην μελάνυδρον,\nαἱ δʼ αὐτοῦ κατὰ δώματʼ ἐπισταμένως πονέοντο.\nἐς δʼ ἦλθον δρηστῆρες Ἀχαιῶν. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα\nεὖ καὶ ἐπισταμένως κέασαν ξύλα, ταὶ δὲ γυναῖκες\nἦλθον ἀπὸ κρήνης· ἐπὶ δέ σφισιν ἦλθε συβώτης\nτρεῖς σιάλους κατάγων, οἳ ἔσαν μετὰ πᾶσιν ἄριστοι.\nκαὶ τοὺς μέν ῥʼ εἴασε καθʼ ἕρκεα καλὰ νέμεσθαι,\nαὐτὸς δʼ αὖτʼ Ὀδυσῆα προσηύδα μειλιχίοισι·\nξεῖνʼ, ἦ ἄρ τί σε μᾶλλον Ἀχαιοὶ εἰσορόωσιν,\nἦέ σʼ ἀτιμάζουσι κατὰ μέγαρʼ, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ;\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολυμήτις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nαἲ γὰρ δή, Εὔμαιε, θεοὶ τισαίατο λώβην,\nἣν οἵδʼ ὑβρίζοντες ἀτάσθαλα μηχανόωνται\nοἴκῳ ἐν ἀλλοτρίῳ, οὐδʼ αἰδοῦς μοῖραν ἔχουσιν.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν.\nαἶγας ἄγων αἳ πᾶσι μετέπρεπον αἰπολίοισι,\nδεῖπνον μνηστήρεσσι. δύω δʼ ἅμʼ ἕποντο νομῆες.\nκαὶ τὰς μὲν κατέδησεν ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ ἐριδούπῳ,\nαὐτὸς δʼ αὖτʼ Ὀδυσῆα προσηύδα κερτομίοισι·\nξεῖνʼ, ἔτι καὶ νῦν ἐνθάδʼ ἀνιήσεις κατὰ δῶμα\nἀνέρας αἰτίζων, ἀτὰρ οὐκ ἔξεισθα θύραζε;\nπάντως οὐκέτι νῶϊ διακρινέεσθαι ὀΐω\nπρὶν χειρῶν γεύσασθαι, ἐπεὶ σύ περ οὐ κατὰ κόσμον\nαἰτίζεις· εἰσὶν δὲ καὶ ἄλλαι δαῖτες Ἀχαιῶν.\nὣς φάτο, τὸν δʼ οὔ τι προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἀλλʼ ἀκέων κίνησε κάρη, κακὰ βυσσοδομεύων.\nτοῖσι δʼ ἐπὶ τρίτος ἦλθε Φιλοίτιος, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν,\nβοῦν στεῖραν μνηστῆρσιν ἄγων καὶ πίονας αἶγας.\nπορθμῆες δʼ ἄρα τούς γε διήγαγον, οἵ τε καὶ ἄλλους\nἀνθρώπους πέμπουσιν, ὅτις σφέας εἰσαφίκηται.\nκαὶ τὰ μὲν εὖ κατέδησεν ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ ἐριδούπῳ,\nαὐτὸς δʼ αὖτʼ ἐρέεινε συβώτην ἄγχι παραστάς·\nτίς δὴ ὅδε ξεῖνος νέον εἰλήλουθε, συβῶτα,\nἡμέτερον πρὸς δῶμα; τέων δʼ ἐξ εὔχεται εἶναι\nἀνδρῶν; ποῦ δέ νύ οἱ γενεὴ καὶ πατρὶς ἄρουρα;\nδύσμορος, ἦ τε ἔοικε δέμας βασιλῆϊ ἄνακτι·\nἀλλὰ θεοὶ δυόωσι πολυπλάγκτους ἀνθρώπους,\nὁππότε καὶ βασιλεῦσιν ἐπικλώσωνται ὀϊζύν.\nἦ καὶ δεξιτερῇ δειδίσκετο χειρὶ παραστάς,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nχαῖρε, πάτερ ὦ ξεῖνε· γένοιτό τοι ἔς περ ὀπίσσω\nὄλβος· ἀτὰρ μὲν νῦν γε κακοῖς ἔχεαι πολέεσσι.\nΖεῦ πάτερ, οὔ τις σεῖο θεῶν ὀλοώτερος ἄλλος·\nοὐκ ἐλεαίρεις ἄνδρας, ἐπὴν δὴ γείνεαι αὐτός,\nμισγέμεναι κακότητι καὶ ἄλγεσι λευγαλέοισιν.\nἴδιον, ὡς ἐνόησα, δεδάκρυνται δέ μοι ὄσσε\nμνησαμένῳ Ὀδυσῆος, ἐπεὶ καὶ κεῖνον ὀΐω\nτοιάδε λαίφεʼ ἔχοντα κατʼ ἀνθρώπους ἀλάλησθαι,\nεἴ που ἔτι ζώει καὶ ὁρᾷ φάος ἠελίοιο.\nεἰ δʼ ἤδη τέθνηκε καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισιν,\nὤ μοι ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ὅς μʼ ἐπὶ βουσὶν\nεἷσʼ ἔτι τυτθὸν ἐόντα Κεφαλλήνων ἐνὶ δήμῳ.\nνῦν δʼ αἱ μὲν γίγνονται ἀθέσφατοι, οὐδέ κεν ἄλλως\nἀνδρί γʼ ὑποσταχύοιτο βοῶν γένος εὐρυμετώπων·\nτὰς δʼ ἄλλοι με κέλονται ἀγινέμεναί σφισιν αὐτοῖς\nἔδμεναι· οὐδέ τι παιδὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροις ἀλέγουσιν,\nοὐδʼ ὄπιδα τρομέουσι θεῶν· μεμάασι γὰρ ἤδη\nκτήματα δάσσασθαι δὴν οἰχομένοιο ἄνακτος.\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τόδε θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισι\nπόλλʼ ἐπιδινεῖται· μάλα μὲν κακὸν υἷος ἐόντος\nἄλλων δῆμον ἱκέσθαι ἰόντʼ αὐτῇσι βόεσσιν,\nἄνδρας ἐς ἀλλοδαπούς· τὸ δὲ ῥίγιον, αὖθι μένοντα\nβουσὶν ἐπʼ ἀλλοτρίῃσι καθήμενον ἄλγεα πάσχειν.\nκαί κεν δὴ πάλαι ἄλλον ὑπερμενέων βασιλήων\nἐξικόμην φεύγων, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτʼ ἀνεκτὰ πέλονται·\nἀλλʼ ἔτι τὸν δύστηνον ὀΐομαι, εἴ ποθεν ἐλθὼν\nἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων σκέδασιν κατὰ δώματα θείῃ.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nβουκόλʼ, ἐπεὶ οὔτε κακῷ οὔτʼ ἄφρονι φωτὶ ἔοικας,\nγιγνώσκω δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ὅ τοι πινυτὴ φρένας ἵκει,\nτοὔνεκά τοι ἐρέω καὶ ἐπὶ μέγαν ὅρκον ὀμοῦμαι·\nἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα θεῶν ξενίη τε τράπεζα\nἱστίη τʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ἣν ἀφικάνω,\nἦ σέθεν ἐνθάδʼ ἐόντος ἐλεύσεται οἴκαδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς·\nσοῖσιν δʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἐπόψεαι, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα,\nκτεινομένους μνηστῆρας, οἳ ἐνθάδε κοιρανέουσιν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε βοῶν ἐπιβουκόλος ἀνήρ·\nαἲ γὰρ τοῦτο, ξεῖνε, ἔπος τελέσειε Κρονίων·\nγνοίης χʼ οἵη ἐμὴ δύναμις καὶ χεῖρες ἕπονται.\nὣς δʼ αὔτως Εὔμαιος ἐπεύξατο πᾶσι θεοῖσι\nνοστῆσαι Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ἄρα Τηλεμάχῳ θάνατόν τε μόρον τε\nἤρτυον· αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσιν ἀριστερὸς ἤλυθεν ὄρνις,\nαἰετὸς ὑψιπέτης, ἔχε δὲ τρήρωνα πέλειαν.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀμφίνομος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐχ ἡμῖν συνθεύσεται ἥδε γε βουλή,\nΤηλεμάχοιο φόνος· ἀλλὰ μνησώμεθα δαιτός.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀμφίνομος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.\nἐλθόντες δʼ ἐς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο\nχλαίνας μὲν κατέθεντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε,\nοἱ δʼ ἱέρευον ὄϊς μεγάλους καὶ πίονας αἶγας,\nἵρευον δὲ σύας σιάλους καὶ βοῦν ἀγελαίην·\nσπλάγχνα δʼ ἄρʼ ὀπτήσαντες ἐνώμων, ἐν δέ τε οἶνον\nκρητῆρσιν κερόωντο· κύπελλα δὲ νεῖμε συβώτης.\nσῖτον δέ σφʼ ἐπένειμε Φιλοίτιος, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν,\nκαλοῖς ἐν κανέοισιν, ἐῳνοχόει δὲ Μελανθεύς.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ Ὀδυσῆα καθίδρυε, κέρδεα νωμῶν,\nἐντὸς ἐϋσταθέος μεγάρου, παρὰ λάϊνον οὐδόν,\nδίφρον ἀεικέλιον καταθεὶς ὀλίγην τε τράπεζαν·\nπὰρ δʼ ἐτίθει σπλάγχνων μοίρας, ἐν δʼ οἶνον ἔχευεν\nἐν δέπαϊ χρυσέῳ, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·\nἐνταυθοῖ νῦν ἧσο μετʼ ἀνδράσιν οἰνοποτάζων·\nκερτομίας δέ τοι αὐτὸς ἐγὼ καὶ χεῖρας ἀφέξω\nπάντων μνηστήρων, ἐπεὶ οὔ τοι δήμιός ἐστιν\nοἶκος ὅδʼ, ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσῆος, ἐμοὶ δʼ ἐκτήσατο κεῖνος.\nὑμεῖς δέ, μνηστῆρες, ἐπίσχετε θυμὸν ἐνιπῆς\nκαὶ χειρῶν, ἵνα μή τις ἔρις καὶ νεῖκος ὄρηται.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὀδὰξ ἐν χείλεσι φύντες\nΤηλέμαχον θαύμαζον, ὃ θαρσαλέως ἀγόρευε.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·\nκαὶ χαλεπόν περ ἐόντα δεχώμεθα μῦθον, Ἀχαιοί,\nΤηλεμάχου· μάλα δʼ ἧμιν ἀπειλήσας ἀγορεύει.\nοὐ γὰρ Ζεὺς εἴασε Κρονίων· τῷ κέ μιν ἤδη\nπαύσαμεν ἐν μεγάροισι, λιγύν περ ἐόντʼ ἀγορητήν.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀντίνοος· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ οὐκ ἐμπάζετο μύθων.\nκήρυκες δʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ θεῶν ἱερὴν ἑκατόμβην\nἦγον· τοὶ δʼ ἀγέροντο κάρη κομόωντες Ἀχαιοὶ\nἄλσος ὕπο σκιερὸν ἑκατηβόλου Ἀπόλλωνος.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ὤπτησαν κρέʼ ὑπέρτερα καὶ ἐρύσαντο,\nμοίρας δασσάμενοι δαίνυντʼ ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα·\nπὰρ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆϊ μοῖραν θέσαν οἳ πονέοντο\nἴσην, ὡς αὐτοί περ ἐλάγχανον· ὣς γὰρ ἀνώγει\nΤηλέμαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.\nμνηστῆρας δʼ οὐ πάμπαν ἀγήνορας εἴα Ἀθήνη\nλώβης ἴσχεσθαι θυμαλγέος, ὄφρʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον\nδύη ἄχος κραδίην Λαερτιάδην Ὀδυσῆα.\nἦν δέ τις ἐν μνηστῆρσιν ἀνὴρ ἀθεμίστια εἰδώς,\nΚτήσιππος δʼ ὄνομʼ ἔσκε, Σάμῃ δʼ ἐνὶ οἰκία ναῖεν·\nὃς δή τοι κτεάτεσσι πεποιθὼς θεσπεσίοισι\nμνάσκετʼ Ὀδυσσῆος δὴν οἰχομένοιο δάμαρτα.\nὅς ῥα τότε μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι μετηύδα·\nκέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες, ὄφρα τι εἴπω·\nμοῖραν μὲν δὴ ξεῖνος ἔχει πάλαι, ὡς ἐπέοικεν,\nἴσην· οὐ γὰρ καλὸν ἀτέμβειν οὐδὲ δίκαιον\nξείνους Τηλεμάχου, ὅς κεν τάδε δώμαθʼ ἵκηται.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ καὶ ἐγὼ δῶ ξείνιον, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτὸς\nἠὲ λοετροχόῳ δώῃ γέρας ἠέ τῳ ἄλλῳ\nδμώων, οἳ κατὰ δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἔρριψε βοὸς πόδα χειρὶ παχείῃ.\nκείμενον ἐκ κανέοιο λαβών· ὁ δʼ ἀλεύατʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἦκα παρακλίνας κεφαλήν, μείδησε δὲ θυμῷ\nσαρδάνιον μάλα τοῖον· ὁ δʼ εὔδμητον βάλε τοῖχον.\nΚτήσιππον δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος ἠνίπαπε μύθῳ·\nΚτήσιππʼ, ἦ μάλα τοι τόδε κέρδιον ἔπλετο θυμῷ·\nοὐκ ἔβαλες τὸν ξεῖνον· ἀλεύατο γὰρ βέλος αὐτός.\nἦ γάρ κέν σε μέσον βάλον ἔγχεϊ ὀξυόεντι,\nκαί κέ τοι ἀντὶ γάμοιο πατὴρ τάφον ἀμφεπονεῖτο\nἐνθάδε. τῷ μή τίς μοι ἀεικείας ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nφαινέτω· ἤδη γὰρ νοέω καὶ οἶδα ἕκαστα,\nἐσθλά τε καὶ τὰ χέρηα· πάρος δʼ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα.\nἀλλʼ ἔμπης τάδε μὲν καὶ τέτλαμεν εἰσορόωντες,\nμήλων σφαζομένων οἴνοιό τε πινομένοιο\nκαὶ σίτου· χαλεπὸν γὰρ ἐρυκακέειν ἕνα πολλούς.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μηκέτι μοι κακὰ ῥέζετε δυσμενέοντες·\nεἰ δʼ ἤδη μʼ αὐτὸν κτεῖναι μενεαίνετε χαλκῷ,\nκαί κε τὸ βουλοίμην, καί κεν πολὺ κέρδιον εἴη\nτεθνάμεν ἢ τάδε γʼ αἰὲν ἀεικέα ἔργʼ ὁράασθαι,\nξείνους τε στυφελιζομένους δμῳάς τε γυναῖκας\nῥυστάζοντας ἀεικελίως κατὰ δώματα καλά.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ·\nὀψὲ δὲ δὴ μετέειπε Δαμαστορίδης Ἀγέλαος·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐκ ἂν δή τις ἐπὶ ῥηθέντι δικαίῳ\nἀντιβίοις ἐπέεσσι καθαπτόμενος χαλεπαίνοι·\nμήτε τι τὸν ξεῖνον στυφελίζετε μήτε τινʼ ἄλλον\nδμώων, οἳ κατὰ δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.\nΤηλεμάχῳ δέ κε μῦθον ἐγὼ καὶ μητέρι φαίην\nἤπιον, εἴ σφωϊν κραδίῃ ἅδοι ἀμφοτέροιϊν.\nὄφρα μὲν ὑμῖν θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐώλπει\nνοστήσειν Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε,\nτόφρʼ οὔ τις νέμεσις μενέμεν τʼ ἦν ἰσχέμεναί τε\nμνηστῆρας κατὰ δώματʼ, ἐπεὶ τόδε κέρδιον ἦεν,\nεἰ νόστησʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ ὑπότροπος ἵκετο δῶμα·\nνῦν δʼ ἤδη τόδε δῆλον, ὅ τʼ οὐκέτι νόστιμός ἐστιν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε, σῇ τάδε μητρὶ παρεζόμενος κατάλεξον,\nγήμασθʼ ὅς τις ἄριστος ἀνὴρ καὶ πλεῖστα πόρῃσιν,\nὄφρα σὺ μὲν χαίρων πατρώϊα πάντα νέμηαι,\nἔσθων καὶ πίνων, ἡ δʼ ἄλλου δῶμα κομίζῃ.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nοὐ μὰ Ζῆνʼ, Ἀγέλαε, καὶ ἄλγεα πατρὸς ἐμοῖο,\nὅς που τῆλʼ Ἰθάκης ἢ ἔφθιται ἢ ἀλάληται,\nοὔ τι διατρίβω μητρὸς γάμον, ἀλλὰ κελεύω\nγήμασθʼ ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλῃ, ποτὶ δʼ ἄσπετα δῶρα δίδωμι.\nαἰδέομαι δʼ ἀέκουσαν ἀπὸ μεγάροιο δίεσθαι\nμύθῳ ἀναγκαίῳ· μὴ τοῦτο θεὸς τελέσειεν.\nὣς φάτο Τηλέμαχος· μνηστῆρσι δὲ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη\nἄσβεστον γέλω ὦρσε, παρέπλαγξεν δὲ νόημα.\nοἱ δʼ ἤδη γναθμοῖσι γελοίων ἀλλοτρίοισιν,\nαἱμοφόρυκτα δὲ δὴ κρέα ἤσθιον· ὄσσε δʼ ἄρα σφέων\nδακρυόφιν πίμπλαντο, γόον δʼ ὠΐετο θυμός.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε Θεοκλύμενος θεοειδής·\nἆ δειλοί, τί κακὸν τόδε πάσχετε; νυκτὶ μὲν ὑμέων\nεἰλύαται κεφαλαί τε πρόσωπά τε νέρθε τε γοῦνα.\nοἰμωγὴ δὲ δέδηε, δεδάκρυνται δὲ παρειαί,\nαἵματι δʼ ἐρράδαται τοῖχοι καλαί τε μεσόδμαι·\nεἰδώλων δὲ πλέον πρόθυρον, πλείη δὲ καὶ αὐλή,\nἱεμένων Ἔρεβόσδε ὑπὸ ζόφον· ἠέλιος δὲ\nοὐρανοῦ ἐξαπόλωλε, κακὴ δʼ ἐπιδέδρομεν ἀχλύς.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπʼ αὐτῷ ἡδὺ γέλασσαν.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρύμαχος, Πολύβου πάϊς, ἦρχʼ ἀγορεύειν·\nἀφραίνει ξεῖνος νέον ἄλλοθεν εἰληλουθώς.\nἀλλά μιν αἶψα, νέοι, δόμου ἐκπέμψασθε θύραζε\nεἰς ἀγορὴν ἔρχεσθαι, ἐπεὶ τάδε νυκτὶ ἐΐσκει.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Θεοκλύμενος θεοειδής·\nΕὐρύμαχʼ, οὔ τί σʼ ἄνωγα ἐμοὶ πομπῆας ὀπάζειν·\nεἰσί μοι ὀφθαλμοί τε καὶ οὔατα καὶ πόδες ἄμφω\nκαὶ νόος ἐν στήθεσσι τετυγμένος οὐδὲν ἀεικής.\nτοῖς ἔξειμι θύραζε, ἐπεὶ νοέω κακὸν ὔμμιν\nἐρχόμενον, τό κεν οὔ τις ὑπεκφύγοι οὐδʼ ἀλέαιτο\nμνηστήρων, οἳ δῶμα κάτʼ ἀντιθέου Ὀδυσῆος\nἀνέρας ὑβρίζοντες ἀτάσθαλα μηχανάασθε.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἐξῆλθε δόμων εὖ ναιεταόντων,\nἵκετο δʼ ἐς Πείραιον, ὅ μιν πρόφρων ὑπέδεκτο.\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐς ἀλλήλους ὁρόωντες\nΤηλέμαχον ἐρέθιζον, ἐπὶ ξείνοις γελόωντες·\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, οὔ τις σεῖο κακοξεινώτερος ἄλλος·\nοἷον μέν τινα τοῦτον ἔχεις ἐπίμαστον ἀλήτην,\nσίτου καὶ οἴνου κεχρημένον, οὐδέ τι ἔργων\nἔμπαιον οὐδὲ βίης, ἀλλʼ αὔτως ἄχθος ἀρούρης.\nἄλλος δʼ αὖτέ τις οὗτος ἀνέστη μαντεύεσθαι.\nἀλλʼ εἴ μοί τι πίθοιο, τό κεν πολὺ κέρδιον εἴη·\nτοὺς ξείνους ἐν νηῒ πολυκληῗδι βαλόντες\nἐς Σικελοὺς πέμψωμεν, ὅθεν κέ τοι ἄξιον ἄλφοι.\nὣς ἔφασαν μνηστῆρες· ὁ δʼ οὐκ ἐμπάζετο μύθων,\nἀλλʼ ἀκέων πατέρα προσεδέρκετο, δέγμενος αἰεί,\nὁππότε δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσει.\nἡ δὲ κατʼ ἄντηστιν θεμένη περικαλλέα δίφρον\nκούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,\nἀνδρῶν ἐν μεγάροισιν ἑκάστου μῦθον ἄκουεν.\nδεῖπνον μὲν γάρ τοί γε γελοίωντες τετύκοντο\nἡδὺ τε καὶ μενοεικές, ἐπεὶ μάλα πόλλʼ ἱέρευσαν·\nδόρπου δʼ οὐκ ἄν πως ἀχαρίστερον ἄλλο γένοιτο,\nοἷον δὴ τάχʼ ἔμελλε θεὰ καὶ καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ\nθησέμεναι· πρότεροι γὰρ ἀεικέα μηχανόωντο.\n\n### Book 21\n\nτῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,\nκούρῃ Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,\nτόξον μνηστήρεσσι θέμεν πολιόν τε σίδηρον\nἐν μεγάροις Ὀδυσῆος, ἀέθλια καὶ φόνου ἀρχήν.\nκλίμακα δʼ ὑψηλὴν προσεβήσετο οἷο δόμοιο,\nεἵλετο δὲ κληῗδʼ εὐκαμπέα χειρὶ παχείῃ\nκαλὴν χαλκείην· κώπη δʼ ἐλέφαντος ἐπῆεν.\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεναι θάλαμόνδε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν\nἔσχατον· ἔνθα δέ οἱ κειμήλια κεῖτο ἄνακτος,\nχαλκός τε χρυσός τε πολύκμητός τε σίδηρος.\nἔνθα δὲ τόξον κεῖτο παλίντονον ἠδὲ φαρέτρη\nἰοδόκος, πολλοὶ δʼ ἔνεσαν στονόεντες ὀϊστοί,\nδῶρα τά οἱ ξεῖνος Λακεδαίμονι δῶκε τυχήσας\nἼφιτος Εὐρυτίδης, ἐπιείκελος ἀθανάτοισι.\nτὼ δʼ ἐν Μεσσήνῃ ξυμβλήτην ἀλλήλοιϊν\nοἴκῳ ἐν Ὀρτιλόχοιο δαΐφρονος. ἦ τοι Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἦλθε μετὰ χρεῖος, τό ῥά οἱ πᾶς δῆμος ὄφελλε·\nμῆλα γὰρ ἐξ Ἰθάκης Μεσσήνιοι ἄνδρες ἄειραν\nνηυσὶ πολυκλήϊσι τριηκόσιʼ ἠδὲ νομῆας.\nτῶν ἕνεκʼ ἐξεσίην πολλὴν ὁδὸν ἦλθεν Ὀδυσσεὺς\nπαιδνὸς ἐών· πρὸ γὰρ ἧκε πατὴρ ἄλλοι τε γέροντες.\nἼφιτος αὖθʼ ἵππους διζήμενος, αἵ οἱ ὄλοντο\nδώδεκα θήλειαι, ὑπὸ δʼ ἡμίονοι ταλαεργοί·\nαἳ δή οἱ καὶ ἔπειτα φόνος καὶ μοῖρα γένοντο,\nἐπεὶ δὴ Διὸς υἱὸν ἀφίκετο καρτερόθυμον,\nφῶθʼ Ἡρακλῆα, μεγάλων ἐπιίστορα ἔργων,\nὅς μιν ξεῖνον ἐόντα κατέκτανεν ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,\nσχέτλιος, οὐδὲ θεῶν ὄπιν ᾐδέσατʼ οὐδὲ τράπεζαν,\nτὴν ἥν οἱ παρέθηκεν· ἔπειτα δὲ πέφνε καὶ αὐτόν,\nἵππους δʼ αὐτὸς ἔχε κρατερώνυχας ἐν μεγάροισι.\nτὰς ἐρέων Ὀδυσῆϊ συνήντετο, δῶκε δὲ τόξον,\nτὸ πρὶν μέν ῥʼ ἐφόρει μέγας Εὔρυτος, αὐτὰρ ὁ παιδὶ\nκάλλιπʼ ἀποθνῄσκων ἐν δώμασιν ὑψηλοῖσι.\nτῷ δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ξίφος ὀξὺ καὶ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος ἔδωκεν,\nἀρχὴν ξεινοσύνης προσκηδέος· οὐδὲ τραπέζῃ\nγνώτην ἀλλήλων· πρὶν γὰρ Διὸς υἱὸς ἔπεφνεν\nἼφιτον Εὐρυτίδην, ἐπιείκελον ἀθανάτοισιν,\nὅς οἱ τόξον ἔδωκε. τὸ δʼ οὔ ποτε δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἐρχόμενος πόλεμόνδε μελαινάων ἐπὶ νηῶν\nᾑρεῖτʼ, ἀλλʼ αὐτοῦ μνῆμα ξείνοιο φίλοιο\nκέσκετʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι, φόρει δέ μιν ἧς ἐπὶ γαίης.\nἡ δʼ ὅτε δὴ θάλαμον τὸν ἀφίκετο δῖα γυναικῶν\nοὐδόν τε δρύϊνον προσεβήσετο, τόν ποτε τέκτων\nξέσσεν ἐπισταμένως καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνεν,\nἐν δὲ σταθμοὺς ἄρσε, θύρας δʼ ἐπέθηκε φαεινάς,\nαὐτίκʼ ἄρʼ ἥ γʼ ἱμάντα θοῶς ἀπέλυσε κορώνης,\nἐν δὲ κληῗδʼ ἧκε, θυρέων δʼ ἀνέκοπτεν ὀχῆας\nἄντα τιτυσκομένη· τὰ δʼ ἀνέβραχεν ἠΰτε ταῦρος\nβοσκόμενος λειμῶνι· τόσʼ ἔβραχε καλὰ θύρετρα\nπληγέντα κληΐδι, πετάσθησαν δέ οἱ ὦκα.\nἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐφʼ ὑψηλῆς σανίδος βῆ· ἔνθα δὲ χηλοὶ\nἕστασαν, ἐν δʼ ἄρα τῇσι θυώδεα εἵματʼ ἔκειτο.\nἔνθεν ὀρεξαμένη ἀπὸ πασσάλου αἴνυτο τόξον\nαὐτῷ γωρυτῷ, ὅς οἱ περίκειτο φαεινός.\nἑζομένη δὲ κατʼ αὖθι, φίλοις ἐπὶ γούνασι θεῖσα,\nκλαῖε μάλα λιγέως, ἐκ δʼ ᾕρεε τόξον ἄνακτος.\nἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν τάρφθη πολυδακρύτοιο γόοιο,\nβῆ ῥʼ ἴμεναι μέγαρόνδε μετὰ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυοὺς\nτόξον ἔχουσʼ ἐν χειρὶ παλίντονον ἠδὲ φαρέτρην\nἰοδόκον· πολλοὶ δʼ ἔνεσαν στονόεντες ὀϊστοί.\nτῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἅμʼ ἀμφίπολοι φέρον ὄγκιον, ἔνθα σίδηρος\nκεῖτο πολὺς καὶ χαλκός, ἀέθλια τοῖο ἄνακτος.\nἡ δʼ ὅτε δὴ μνηστῆρας ἀφίκετο δῖα γυναικῶν,\nστῆ ῥα παρὰ σταθμὸν τέγεος πύκα ποιητοῖο,\nἄντα παρειάων σχομένη λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα.\nἀμφίπολος δʼ ἄρα οἱ κεδνὴ ἑκάτερθε παρέστη.\nαὐτίκα δὲ μνηστῆρσι μετηύδα καὶ φάτο μῦθον·\nκέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες, οἳ τόδε δῶμα\nἐχράετʼ ἐσθιέμεν καὶ πινέμεν ἐμμενὲς αἰεὶ\nἀνδρὸς ἀποιχομένοιο πολὺν χρόνον· οὐδέ τινʼ ἄλλην\nμύθου ποιήσασθαι ἐπισχεσίην ἐδύνασθε,\nἀλλʼ ἐμὲ ἱέμενοι γῆμαι θέσθαι τε γυναῖκα.\nἀλλʼ ἄγετε, μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ τόδε φαίνετʼ ἄεθλον.\nθήσω γὰρ μέγα τόξον Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο·\nὃς δέ κε ῥηΐτατʼ ἐντανύσῃ βιὸν ἐν παλάμῃσι\nκαὶ διοϊστεύσῃ πελέκεων δυοκαίδεκα πάντων,\nτῷ κεν ἅμʼ ἑσποίμην, νοσφισσαμένη τόδε δῶμα\nκουρίδιον, μάλα καλόν, ἐνίπλειον βιότοιο,\nτοῦ ποτὲ μεμνήσεσθαι ὀΐομαι ἔν περ ὀνείρῳ.\nὣς φάτο, καί ῥʼ Εὔμαιον ἀνώγει, δῖον ὑφορβόν,\nτόξον μνηστήρεσσι θέμεν πολιόν τε σίδηρον.\nδακρύσας δʼ Εὔμαιος ἐδέξατο καὶ κατέθηκε·\nκλαῖε δὲ βουκόλος ἄλλοθʼ, ἐπεὶ ἴδε τόξον ἄνακτος.\nἈντίνοος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·\nνήπιοι ἀγροιῶται, ἐφημέρια φρονέοντες,\nἆ δειλώ, τί νυ δάκρυ κατείβετον ἠδὲ γυναικὶ\nθυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ὀρίνετον; ᾗ τε καὶ ἄλλως\nκεῖται ἐν ἄλγεσι θυμός, ἐπεὶ φίλον ὤλεσʼ ἀκοίτην.\nἀλλʼ ἀκέων δαίνυσθε καθήμενοι, ἠὲ θύραζε\nκλαίετον ἐξελθόντε, κατʼ αὐτόθι τόξα λιπόντε,\nμνηστήρεσσιν ἄεθλον ἀάατον· οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω\nῥηϊδίως τόδε τόξον ἐΰξοον ἐντανύεσθαι.\nοὐ γάρ τις μέτα τοῖος ἀνὴρ ἐν τοίσδεσι πᾶσιν\nοἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκεν· ἐγὼ δέ μιν αὐτὸς ὄπωπα,\nκαὶ γὰρ μνήμων εἰμί, πάϊς δʼ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα.\nὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἄρα θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐώλπει\nνευρὴν ἐντανύσειν διοϊστεύσειν τε σιδήρου.\nἦ τοι ὀϊστοῦ γε πρῶτος γεύσεσθαι ἔμελλεν\nἐκ χειρῶν Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ὃν τότʼ ἀτίμα\nἥμενος ἐν μεγάροις, ἐπὶ δʼ ὤρνυε πάντας ἑταίρους.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειφʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα με Ζεὺς ἄφρονα θῆκε Κρονίων·\nμήτηρ μέν μοί φησι φίλη, πινυτή περ ἐοῦσα,\nἄλλῳ ἅμʼ ἕψεσθαι νοσφισσαμένη τόδε δῶμα·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ γελόω καὶ τέρπομαι ἄφρονι θυμῷ.\nἀλλʼ ἄγετε, μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ τόδε φαίνετʼ ἄεθλον,\nοἵη νῦν οὐκ ἔστι γυνὴ κατʼ Ἀχαιΐδα γαῖαν,\nοὔτε Πύλου ἱερῆς οὔτʼ Ἄργεος οὔτε Μυκήνης·\nοὔτʼ αὐτῆς Ἰθάκης οὔτʼ ἠπείροιο μελαίνης·\nκαὶ δʼ αὐτοὶ τόδε γʼ ἴστε· τί με χρὴ μητέρος αἴνου;\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μὴ μύνῃσι παρέλκετε μηδʼ ἔτι τόξου\nδηρὸν ἀποτρωπᾶσθε τανυστύος, ὄφρα ἴδωμεν.\nκαὶ δέ κεν αὐτὸς ἐγὼ τοῦ τόξου πειρησαίμην·\nεἰ δέ κεν ἐντανύσω διοϊστεύσω τε σιδήρου,\nοὔ κέ μοι ἀχνυμένῳ τάδε δώματα πότνια μήτηρ\nλείποι ἅμʼ ἄλλῳ ἰοῦσʼ, ὅτʼ ἐγὼ κατόπισθε λιποίμην\nοἷός τʼ ἤδη πατρὸς ἀέθλια κάλʼ ἀνελέσθαι.\nἦ καὶ ἀπʼ ὤμοιϊν χλαῖναν θέτο φοινικόεσσαν\nὀρθὸς ἀναΐξας, ἀπὸ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτʼ ὤμων.\nπρῶτον μὲν πελέκεας στῆσεν, διὰ τάφρον ὀρύξας\nπᾶσι μίαν μακρήν, καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνεν,\nἀμφὶ δὲ γαῖαν ἔναξε· τάφος δʼ ἕλε πάντας ἰδόντας,\nὡς εὐκόσμως στῆσε· πάρος δʼ οὐ πώ ποτʼ ὀπώπει.\nστῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰὼν καὶ τόξου πειρήτιζε.\nτρὶς μέν μιν πελέμιξεν ἐρύσσεσθαι μενεαίνων,\nτρὶς δὲ μεθῆκε βίης, ἐπιελπόμενος τό γε θυμῷ,\nνευρὴν ἐντανύειν διοϊστεύσειν τε σιδήρου.\nκαί νύ κε δή ῥʼ ἐτάνυσσε βίῃ τὸ τέταρτον ἀνέλκων,\nἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἀνένευε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱέμενόν περ.\nτοῖς δʼ αὖτις μετέειφʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ καὶ ἔπειτα κακός τʼ ἔσομαι καὶ ἄκικυς,\nἠὲ νεώτερός εἰμι καὶ οὔ πω χερσὶ πέποιθα\nἄνδρʼ ἀπαμύνασθαι, ὅτε τις πρότερος χαλεπήνῃ.\nἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ, οἵ περ ἐμεῖο βίῃ προφερέστεροί ἐστε,\nτόξου πειρήσασθε, καὶ ἐκτελέωμεν ἄεθλον.\nὣς εἰπὼν τόξον μὲν ἀπὸ ἕο θῆκε χαμᾶζε,\nκλίνας κολλητῇσιν ἐϋξέστῃς σανίδεσσιν,\nαὐτοῦ δʼ ὠκὺ βέλος καλῇ προσέκλινε κορώνῃ,\nἂψ δʼ αὖτις κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·\nὄρνυσθʼ ἑξείης ἐπιδέξια πάντες ἑταῖροι,\nἀρξάμενοι τοῦ χώρου ὅθεν τέ περ οἰνοχοεύει.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀντίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.\nΛειώδης δὲ πρῶτος ἀνίστατο, Οἴνοπος υἱός,\nὅ σφι θυοσκόος ἔσκε, παρὰ κρητῆρα δὲ καλὸν\nἷζε μυχοίτατος αἰέν· ἀτασθαλίαι δέ οἱ οἴῳ\nἐχθραὶ ἔσαν, πᾶσιν δὲ νεμέσσα μνηστήρεσσιν·\nὅς ῥα τότε πρῶτος τόξον λάβε καὶ βέλος ὠκύ.\nστῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰὼν καὶ τόξου πειρήτιζεν,\nοὐδέ μιν ἐντάνυσε· πρὶν γὰρ κάμε χεῖρας ἀνέλκων\nἀτρίπτους ἁπαλάς· μετὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσιν ἔειπεν·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐ μὲν ἐγὼ τανύω, λαβέτω δὲ καὶ ἄλλος.\nπολλοὺς γὰρ τόδε τόξον ἀριστῆας κεκαδήσει\nθυμοῦ καὶ ψυχῆς, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτερόν ἐστι\nτεθνάμεν ἢ ζώοντας ἁμαρτεῖν, οὗθʼ ἕνεκʼ αἰεὶ\nἐνθάδʼ ὁμιλέομεν, ποτιδέγμενοι ἤματα πάντα.\nνῦν μέν τις καὶ ἔλπετʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἠδὲ μενοινᾷ\nγῆμαι Πηνελόπειαν, Ὀδυσσῆος παράκοιτιν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν τόξου πειρήσεται ἠδὲ ἴδηται,\nἄλλην δή τινʼ ἔπειτα Ἀχαιϊάδων εὐπέπλων\nμνάσθω ἐέδνοισιν διζήμενος· ἡ δέ κʼ ἔπειτα\nγήμαιθʼ ὅς κε πλεῖστα πόροι καὶ μόρσιμος ἔλθοι.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν καὶ ἀπὸ ἕο τόξον ἔθηκε,\nκλίνας κολλητῇσιν ἐϋξέστῃς σανίδεσσιν,\nαὐτοῦ δʼ ὠκὺ βέλος καλῇ προσέκλινε κορώνῃ,\nἂψ δʼ αὖτις κατʼ ἄρ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη.\nἈντίνοος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·\nΛειῶδες, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων,\nδεινόν τʼ ἀργαλέον τε, —νεμεσσῶμαι δέ τʼ ἀκούων—\nεἰ δὴ τοῦτό γε τόξον ἀριστῆας κεκαδήσει\nθυμοῦ καὶ ψυχῆς, ἐπεὶ οὐ δύνασαι σὺ τανύσσαι.\nοὐ γάρ τοί σέ γε τοῖον ἐγείνατο πότνια μήτηρ\nοἷόν τε ῥυτῆρα βιοῦ τʼ ἔμεναι καὶ ὀϊστῶν·\nἀλλʼ ἄλλοι τανύουσι τάχα μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοί.\nὣς φάτο, καί ῥʼ ἐκέλευσε Μελάνθιον, αἰπόλον αἰγῶν·\nἄγρει δή, πῦρ κῆον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι, Μελανθεῦ,\nπὰρ δὲ τίθει δίφρον τε μέγαν καὶ κῶας ἐπʼ αὐτοῦ,\nἐκ δὲ στέατος ἔνεικε μέγαν τροχὸν ἔνδον ἐόντος,\nὄφρα νέοι θάλποντες, ἐπιχρίοντες ἀλοιφῇ,\nτόξου πειρώμεσθα καὶ ἐκτελέωμεν ἄεθλον.\nὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αἶψʼ ἀνέκαιε Μελάνθιος ἀκάματον πῦρ,\nπὰρ δὲ φέρων δίφρον θῆκεν καὶ κῶας ἐπʼ αὐτοῦ,\nἐκ δὲ στέατος ἔνεικε μέγαν τροχὸν ἔνδον ἐόντος·\nτῷ ῥα νέοι θάλποντες ἐπειρῶντʼ· οὐδʼ ἐδύναντο\nἐντανύσαι, πολλὸν δὲ βίης ἐπιδευέες ἦσαν.\nἈντίνοος δʼ ἔτʼ ἐπεῖχε καὶ Εὐρύμαχος θεοειδής,\nἀρχοὶ μνηστήρων· ἀρετῇ δʼ ἔσαν ἔξοχʼ ἄριστοι.\nτὼ δʼ ἐξ οἴκου βῆσαν ὁμαρτήσαντες ἅμʼ ἄμφω\nβουκόλος ἠδὲ συφορβὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο·\nἐκ δʼ αὐτὸς μετὰ τοὺς δόμου ἤλυθε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἐκτὸς θυρέων ἔσαν ἠδὲ καὶ αὐλῆς,\nφθεγξάμενός σφε ἔπεσσι προσηύδα μειλιχίοισι·\nβουκόλε καὶ σύ, συφορβέ, ἔπος τί κε μυθησαίμην,\nἦ αὐτὸς κεύθω; φάσθαι δέ με θυμὸς ἀνώγει.\nποῖοί κʼ εἶτʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ ἀμυνέμεν, εἴ ποθεν ἔλθοι\nὧδε μάλʼ ἐξαπίνης καί τις θεὸς αὐτὸν ἐνείκαι;\nἤ κε μνηστήρεσσιν ἀμύνοιτʼ ἦ Ὀδυσῆϊ;\nεἴπαθʼ ὅπως ὑμέας κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε βοῶν ἐπιβουκόλος ἀνήρ·\nΖεῦ πάτερ, αἲ γὰρ τοῦτο τελευτήσειας ἐέλδωρ,\nὡς ἔλθοι μὲν κεῖνος ἀνήρ, ἀγάγοι δέ ἑ δαίμων·\nγνοίης χʼ οἵη ἐμὴ δύναμις καὶ χεῖρες ἕπονται.\nὣς δʼ αὔτως Εὔμαιος ἐπεύχετο πᾶσι θεοῖσι\nνοστῆσαι Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τῶν γε νόον νημερτέʼ ἀνέγνω,\nἐξαῦτίς σφε ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·\nἔνδον μὲν δὴ ὅδʼ αὐτὸς ἐγώ, κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας\nἤλυθον εἰκοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nγιγνώσκω δʼ ὡς σφῶϊν ἐελδομένοισιν ἱκάνω\nοἴοισι δμώων· τῶν δʼ ἄλλων οὔ τευ ἄκουσα\nεὐξαμένου ἐμὲ αὖτις ὑπότροπον οἴκαδʼ ἱκέσθαι.\nσφῶϊν δʼ, ὡς ἔσεταί περ, ἀληθείην καταλέξω.\nεἴ χʼ ὑπʼ ἐμοί γε θεὸς δαμάσῃ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,\nἄξομαι ἀμφοτέροις ἀλόχους καὶ κτήματʼ ὀπάσσω\nοἰκία τʼ ἐγγὺς ἐμεῖο τετυγμένα· καί μοι ἔπειτα\nΤηλεμάχου ἑτάρω τε κασιγνήτω τε ἔσεσθον.\nεἰ δʼ ἄγε δή, καὶ σῆμα ἀριφραδὲς ἄλλο τι δείξω,\nὄφρα μʼ ἐῢ γνῶτον πιστωθῆτόν τʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,\nοὐλήν, τήν ποτέ με σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι\nΠαρνησόνδʼ ἐλθόντα σὺν υἱάσιν Αὐτολύκοιο.\nὣς εἰπὼν ῥάκεα μεγάλης ἀποέργαθεν οὐλῆς.\nτὼ δʼ ἐπεὶ εἰσιδέτην εὖ τʼ ἐφράσσαντο ἕκαστα,\nκλαῖον ἄρʼ ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ δαΐφρονι χεῖρε βαλόντε,\nκαὶ κύνεον ἀγαπαζόμενοι κεφαλήν τε καὶ ὤμους\nὣς δʼ αὔτως Ὀδυσεὺς κεφαλὰς καὶ χεῖρας ἔκυσσε.\nκαί νύ κʼ ὀδυρομένοισιν ἔδυ φάος ἠελίοιο,\nεἰ μὴ Ὀδυσσεὺς αὐτὸς ἐρύκακε φώνησέν τε·\nπαύεσθον κλαυθμοῖο γόοιό τε, μή τις ἴδηται\nἐξελθὼν μεγάροιο, ἀτὰρ εἴπῃσι καὶ εἴσω.\nἀλλὰ προμνηστῖνοι ἐσέλθετε, μηδʼ ἅμα πάντες,\nπρῶτος ἐγώ, μετὰ δʼ ὔμμες· ἀτὰρ τόδε σῆμα τετύχθω·\nἄλλοι μὲν γὰρ πάντες, ὅσοι μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοί,\nοὐκ ἐάσουσιν ἐμοὶ δόμεναι βιὸν ἠδὲ φαρέτρην·\nἀλλὰ σύ, δῖʼ Εὔμαιε, φέρων ἀνὰ δώματα τόξον\nἐν χείρεσσιν ἐμοὶ θέμεναι, εἰπεῖν τε γυναιξὶ\nκληῗσαι μεγάροιο θύρας πυκινῶς ἀραρυίας,\nἢν δέ τις ἢ στοναχῆς ἠὲ κτύπου ἔνδον ἀκούσῃ\nἀνδρῶν ἡμετέροισιν ἐν ἕρκεσι, μή τι θύραζε\nπροβλώσκειν, ἀλλʼ αὐτοῦ ἀκὴν ἔμεναι παρὰ ἔργῳ.\nσοὶ δέ, Φιλοίτιε δῖε, θύρας ἐπιτέλλομαι αὐλῆς\nκληῗσαι κληῗδι, θοῶς δʼ ἐπὶ δεσμὸν ἰῆλαι.\nὣς εἰπὼν εἰσῆλθε δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας·\nἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ δίφρον ἰών, ἔνθεν περ ἀνέστη·\nἐς δʼ ἄρα καὶ τὼ δμῶε ἴτην θείου Ὀδυσῆος.\nΕὐρύμαχος δʼ ἤδη τόξον μετὰ χερσὶν ἐνώμα,\nθάλπων ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα σέλᾳ πυρός· ἀλλά μιν οὐδʼ ὣς\nἐντανύσαι δύνατο, μέγα δʼ ἔστενε κυδάλιμον κῆρ·\nὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nὢ πόποι, ἦ μοι ἄχος περί τʼ αὐτοῦ καὶ περὶ πάντων·\nοὔ τι γάμου τοσσοῦτον ὀδύρομαι, ἀχνύμενός περ·\nεἰσὶ καὶ ἄλλαι πολλαὶ Ἀχαιΐδες, αἱ μὲν ἐν αὐτῇ\nἀμφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ, αἱ δʼ ἄλλῃσιν πολίεσσιν·\nἀλλʼ εἰ δὴ τοσσόνδε βίης ἐπιδευέες εἰμὲν\nἀντιθέου Ὀδυσῆος, ὅ τʼ οὐ δυνάμεσθα τανύσσαι\nτόξον· ἐλεγχείη δὲ καὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·\nΕὐρύμαχʼ, οὐχ οὕτως ἔσται· νοέεις δὲ καὶ αὐτός.\nνῦν μὲν γὰρ κατὰ δῆμον ἑορτὴ τοῖο θεοῖο\nἁγνή· τίς δέ κε τόξα τιταίνοιτʼ; ἀλλὰ ἕκηλοι\nκάτθετʼ· ἀτὰρ πελέκεάς γε καὶ εἴ κʼ εἰῶμεν ἅπαντας\nἑστάμεν· οὐ μὲν γάρ τινʼ ἀναιρήσεσθαι ὀΐω,\nἐλθόντʼ ἐς μέγαρον Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος.\nἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ, οἰνοχόος μὲν ἐπαρξάσθω δεπάεσσιν,\nὄφρα σπείσαντες καταθείομεν ἀγκύλα τόξα·\nἠῶθεν δὲ κέλεσθε Μελάνθιον, αἰπόλον αἰγῶν,\nαἶγας ἄγειν, αἳ πᾶσι μέγʼ ἔξοχοι αἰπολίοισιν,\nὄφρʼ ἐπὶ μηρία θέντες Ἀπόλλωνι κλυτοτόξῳ\nτόξου πειρώμεσθα καὶ ἐκτελέωμεν ἄεθλον.\nὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀντίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.\nτοῖσι δὲ κήρυκες μὲν ὕδωρ ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἔχευαν,\nκοῦροι δὲ κρητῆρας ἐπεστέψαντο ποτοῖο,\nνώμησαν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπαρξάμενοι δεπάεσσιν.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιόν θʼ ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,\nτοῖς δὲ δολοφρονέων μετέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nκέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγακλειτῆς βασιλείης·\nὄφρʼ εἴπω τά με θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κελεύει·\nΕὐρύμαχον δὲ μάλιστα καὶ Ἀντίνοον θεοειδέα\nλίσσομʼ, ἐπεὶ καὶ τοῦτο ἔπος κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπε,\nνῦν μὲν παῦσαι τόξον, ἐπιτρέψαι δὲ θεοῖσιν·\nἠῶθεν δὲ θεὸς δώσει κράτος ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλῃσιν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ἐμοὶ δότε τόξον ἐΰξοον, ὄφρα μεθʼ ὑμῖν\nχειρῶν καὶ σθένεος πειρήσομαι, ἤ μοι ἔτʼ ἐστὶν\nἴς, οἵη πάρος ἔσκεν ἐνὶ γναμπτοῖσι μέλεσσιν,\nἦ ἤδη μοι ὄλεσσεν ἄλη τʼ ἀκομιστίη τε.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὑπερφιάλως νεμέσησαν,\nδείσαντες μὴ τόξον ἐΰξοον ἐντανύσειεν.\nἈντίνοος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·\nἆ δειλὲ ξείνων, ἔνι τοι φρένες οὐδʼ ἠβαιαί·\nοὐκ ἀγαπᾷς ὃ ἕκηλος ὑπερφιάλοισι μεθʼ ἡμῖν\nδαίνυσαι, οὐδέ τι δαιτὸς ἀμέρδεαι, αὐτὰρ ἀκούεις\nμύθων ἡμετέρων καὶ ῥήσιος; οὐδέ τις ἄλλος\nἡμετέρων μύθων ξεῖνος καὶ πτωχὸς ἀκούει.\nοἶνός σε τρώει μελιηδής, ὅς τε καὶ ἄλλους\nβλάπτει, ὃς ἄν μιν χανδὸν ἕλῃ μηδʼ αἴσιμα πίνῃ.\nοἶνος καὶ Κένταυρον, ἀγακλυτὸν Εὐρυτίωνα,\nἄασʼ ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ μεγαθύμου Πειριθόοιο,\nἐς Λαπίθας ἐλθόνθʼ· ὁ δʼ ἐπεὶ φρένας ἄασεν οἴνῳ,\nμαινόμενος κάκʼ ἔρεξε δόμον κάτα Πειριθόοιο·\nἥρωας δʼ ἄχος εἷλε, διὲκ προθύρου δὲ θύραζε\nἕλκον ἀναΐξαντες, ἀπʼ οὔατα νηλέϊ χαλκῷ\nῥῖνάς τʼ ἀμήσαντες· ὁ δὲ φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἀασθεὶς\nἤϊεν ἣν ἄτην ὀχέων ἀεσίφρονι θυμῷ.\nἐξ οὗ Κενταύροισι καὶ ἀνδράσι νεῖκος ἐτύχθη,\nοἷ δʼ αὐτῷ πρώτῳ κακὸν εὕρετο οἰνοβαρείων.\nὣς καὶ σοὶ μέγα πῆμα πιφαύσκομαι, αἴ κε τὸ τόξον\nἐντανύσῃς· οὐ γάρ τευ ἐπητύος ἀντιβολήσεις\nἡμετέρῳ ἐνὶ δήμῳ, ἄφαρ δέ σε νηῒ μελαίνῃ\nεἰς Ἔχετον βασιλῆα, βροτῶν δηλήμονα πάντων,\nπέμψομεν· ἔνθεν δʼ οὔ τι σαώσεαι· ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος\nπῖνέ τε, μηδʼ ἐρίδαινε μετʼ ἀνδράσι κουροτέροισιν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nἈντίνοʼ, οὐ μὲν καλὸν ἀτέμβειν οὐδὲ δίκαιον\nξείνους Τηλεμάχου, ὅς κεν τάδε δώμαθʼ ἵκηται·\nἔλπεαι, αἴ χʼ ὁ ξεῖνος Ὀδυσσῆος μέγα τόξον\nἐντανύσῃ χερσίν τε βίηφί τε ἧφι πιθήσας,\nοἴκαδέ μʼ ἄξεσθαι καὶ ἑὴν θήσεσθαι ἄκοιτιν;\nοὐδʼ αὐτός που τοῦτό γʼ ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔολπε·\nμηδέ τις ὑμείων τοῦ γʼ εἵνεκα θυμὸν ἀχεύων\nἐνθάδε δαινύσθω, ἐπεὶ οὐδὲ μὲν οὐδὲ ἔοικεν.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύμαχος, Πολύβου πάϊς, ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nκούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρον Πηνελόπεια,\nοὔ τί σε τόνδʼ ἄξεσθαι ὀϊόμεθʼ· οὐδὲ ἔοικεν·\nἀλλʼ αἰσχυνόμενοι φάτιν ἀνδρῶν ἠδὲ γυναικῶν,\nμή ποτέ τις εἴπῃσι κακώτερος ἄλλος Ἀχαιῶν\nἦ πολὺ χείρονες ἄνδρες ἀμύμονος ἀνδρὸς ἄκοιτιν\nμνῶνται, οὐδέ τι τόξον ἐΰξοον ἐντανύουσιν·\nἀλλʼ ἄλλος τις πτωχὸς ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν\nῥηϊδίως ἐτάνυσσε βιόν, διὰ δʼ ἧκε σιδήρου.\nὣς ἐρέουσʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ ἂν ἐλέγχεα ταῦτα γένοιτο.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nΕὐρύμαχʼ, οὔ πως ἔστιν ἐϋκλεῖας κατὰ δῆμον\nἔμμεναι οἳ δὴ οἶκον ἀτιμάζοντες ἔδουσιν\nἀνδρὸς ἀριστῆος· τί δʼ ἐλέγχεα ταῦτα τίθεσθε;\nοὗτος δὲ ξεῖνος μάλα μὲν μέγας ἠδʼ εὐπηγής,\nπατρὸς δʼ ἐξ ἀγαθοῦ γένος εὔχεται ἔμμεναι υἱός.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ δότε τόξον ἐΰξοον, ὄφρα ἴδωμεν.\nὧδε γὰρ ἐξερέω, τὸ δὲ καὶ τετελεσμένον ἔσται·\nεἴ κέ μιν ἐντανύσῃ, δώῃ δέ οἱ εὖχος Ἀπόλλων,\nἕσσω μιν χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, εἵματα καλά,\nδώσω δʼ ὀξὺν ἄκοντα, κυνῶν ἀλκτῆρα καὶ ἀνδρῶν,\nκαὶ ξίφος ἄμφηκες· δώσω δʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶ πέδιλα,\nπέμψω δʼ ὅππη μιν κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.\nτὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nμῆτερ ἐμή, τόξον μὲν Ἀχαιῶν οὔ τις ἐμεῖο\nκρείσσων, ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλω, δόμεναί τε καὶ ἀρνήσασθαι,\nοὔθʼ ὅσσοι κραναὴν Ἰθάκην κάτα κοιρανέουσιν,\nοὔθʼ ὅσσοι νήσοισι πρὸς Ἤλιδος ἱπποβότοιο·\nτῶν οὔ τίς μʼ ἀέκοντα βιήσεται, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλωμι\nκαὶ καθάπαξ ξείνῳ δόμεναι τάδε τόξα φέρεσθαι.\nἀλλʼ εἰς οἶκον ἰοῦσα τὰ σʼ αὐτῆς ἔργα κόμιζε,\nἱστόν τʼ ἠλακάτην τε, καὶ ἀμφιπόλοισι κέλευε\nἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι· τόξον δʼ ἄνδρεσσι μελήσει\nπᾶσι, μάλιστα δʼ ἐμοί· τοῦ γὰρ κράτος ἔστʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.\nἡ μὲν θαμβήσασα πάλιν οἶκόνδε βεβήκει·\nπαιδὸς γὰρ μῦθον πεπνυμένον ἔνθετο θυμῷ.\nἐς δʼ ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶ\nκλαῖεν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα, φίλον πόσιν, ὄφρα οἱ ὕπνον\nἡδὺν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι βάλε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ τόξα λαβὼν φέρε καμπύλα δῖος ὑφορβός·\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὁμόκλεον ἐν μεγάροισιν·\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·\nπῆ δὴ καμπύλα τόξα φέρεις, ἀμέγαρτε συβῶτα,\nπλαγκτέ; τάχʼ αὖ σʼ ἐφʼ ὕεσσι κύνες ταχέες κατέδονται\nοἶον ἀπʼ ἀνθρώπων, οὓς ἔτρεφες, εἴ κεν Ἀπόλλων\nἡμῖν ἱλήκῃσι καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι.\nὣς φάσαν, αὐτὰρ, ὁ θῆκε φέρων αὐτῇ ἐνὶ χώρῃ,\nδείσας, οὕνεκα πολλοὶ ὁμόκλεον ἐν μεγάροισιν.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἑτέρωθεν ἀπειλήσας ἐγεγώνει·\nἄττα, πρόσω φέρε τόξα· τάχʼ οὐκ εὖ πᾶσι πιθήσεις\nμή σε καὶ ὁπλότερός περ ἐὼν ἀγρόνδε δίωμαι,\nβάλλων χερμαδίοισι· βίηφι δὲ φέρτερός εἰμι.\nαἲ γὰρ πάντων τόσσον, ὅσοι κατὰ δώματʼ ἔασι,\nμνηστήρων χερσίν τε βίηφί τε φέρτερος εἴην·\nτῷ κε τάχα στυγερῶς τινʼ ἐγὼ πέμψαιμι νέεσθαι\nἡμετέρου ἐξ οἴκου, ἐπεὶ κακὰ μηχανόωνται.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπʼ αὐτῷ ἡδὺ γέλασσαν\nμνηστῆρες, καὶ δὴ μέθιεν χαλεποῖο χόλοιο\nΤηλεμάχῳ· τὰ δὲ τόξα φέρων ἀνὰ δῶμα συβώτης\nἐν χείρεσσʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ δαΐφρονι θῆκε παραστάς.\nἐκ δὲ καλεσσάμενος προσέφη τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν·\nΤηλέμαχος κέλεταί σε, περίφρων Εὐρύκλεια,\nκληῗσαι μεγάροιο θύρας πυκινῶς ἀραρυίας.\nἢν δέ τις ἢ στοναχῆς ἠὲ κτύπου ἔνδον ἀκούσῃ\nἀνδρῶν ἡμετέροισιν ἐν ἕρκεσι, μή τι θύραζε\nπροβλώσκειν, ἀλλʼ αὐτοῦ ἀκὴν ἔμεναι παρὰ ἔργῳ.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, τῇ δʼ ἄπτερος ἔπλετο μῦθος,\nκλήϊσεν δὲ θύρας μεγάρων εὖ ναιεταόντων.\nσιγῇ δʼ ἐξ οἴκοιο Φιλοίτιος ἆλτο θύραζε,\nκλήϊσεν δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα θύρας εὐερκέος αὐλῆς.\nκεῖτο δʼ ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ ὅπλον νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης\nβύβλινον, ᾧ ῥʼ ἐπέδησε θύρας, ἐς δʼ ἤϊεν αὐτός·\nἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ δίφρον ἰών, ἔνθεν περ ἀνέστη,\nεἰσορόων Ὀδυσῆα. ὁ δʼ ἤδη τόξον ἐνώμα\nπάντη ἀναστρωφῶν, πειρώμενος ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,\nμὴ κέρα ἶπες ἔδοιεν ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος.\nὧδε τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·\nἦ τις θηητὴρ καὶ ἐπίκλοπος ἔπλετο τόξων·\nἤ ῥά νύ που τοιαῦτα καὶ αὐτῷ οἴκοθι κεῖται\nἢ ὅ γʼ ἐφορμᾶται ποιησέμεν, ὡς ἐνὶ χερσὶ\nνωμᾷ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα κακῶν ἔμπαιος ἀλήτης.\nἄλλος δʼ αὖ εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·\nαἲ γὰρ δὴ τοσσοῦτον ὀνήσιος ἀντιάσειεν\nὡς οὗτός ποτε τοῦτο δυνήσεται ἐντανύσασθαι.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν μνηστῆρες· ἀτὰρ πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς,\nαὐτίκʼ ἐπεὶ μέγα τόξον ἐβάστασε καὶ ἴδε πάντη,\nὡς ὅτʼ ἀνὴρ φόρμιγγος ἐπιστάμενος καὶ ἀοιδῆς\nῥηϊδίως ἐτάνυσσε νέῳ περὶ κόλλοπι χορδήν,\nἅψας ἀμφοτέρωθεν ἐϋστρεφὲς ἔντερον οἰός,\nὣς ἄρʼ ἄτερ σπουδῆς τάνυσεν μέγα τόξον Ὀδυσσεύς.\nδεξιτερῇ ἄρα χειρὶ λαβὼν πειρήσατο νευρῆς·\nἡ δʼ ὑπὸ καλὸν ἄεισε, χελιδόνι εἰκέλη αὐδήν.\nμνηστῆρσιν δʼ ἄρʼ ἄχος γένετο μέγα, πᾶσι δʼ ἄρα χρὼς\nἐτράπετο· Ζεὺς δὲ μεγάλʼ ἔκτυπε σήματα φαίνων·\nγήθησέν τʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nὅττι ῥά οἱ τέρας ἧκε Κρόνου πάϊς ἀγκυλομήτεω·\nεἵλετο δʼ ὠκὺν ὀϊστόν, ὅ οἱ παρέκειτο τραπέζῃ\nγυμνός· τοὶ δʼ ἄλλοι κοίλης ἔντοσθε φαρέτρης\nκείατο, τῶν τάχʼ ἔμελλον Ἀχαιοὶ πειρήσεσθαι.\nτόν ῥʼ ἐπὶ πήχει ἑλὼν ἕλκεν νευρὴν γλυφίδας τε,\nαὐτόθεν ἐκ δίφροιο καθήμενος, ἧκε δʼ ὀϊστὸν\nἄντα τιτυσκόμενος, πελέκεων δʼ οὐκ ἤμβροτε πάντων\nπρώτης στειλειῆς, διὰ δʼ ἀμπερὲς ἦλθε θύραζε\nἰὸς χαλκοβαρής· ὁ δὲ Τηλέμαχον προσέειπε·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, οὔ σʼ ὁ ξεῖνος ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐλέγχει\nἥμενος, οὐδέ τι τοῦ σκοποῦ ἤμβροτον οὐδέ τι τόξον\nδὴν ἔκαμον τανύων· ἔτι μοι μένος ἔμπεδόν ἐστιν,\nοὐχ ὥς με μνηστῆρες ἀτιμάζοντες ὄνονται.\nνῦν δʼ ὥρη καὶ δόρπον Ἀχαιοῖσιν τετυκέσθαι\nἐν φάει, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα καὶ ἄλλως ἑψιάασθαι\nμολπῇ καὶ φόρμιγγι· τὰ γάρ τʼ ἀναθήματα δαιτός.\nἦ καὶ ἐπʼ ὀφρύσι νεῦσεν· ὁ δʼ ἀμφέθετο ξίφος ὀξὺ\nΤηλέμαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,\nἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρα φίλην βάλεν ἔγχεϊ, ἄγχι δʼ ἄρʼ αὐτοῦ\nπὰρ θρόνον ἑστήκει κεκορυθμένος αἴθοπι χαλκῷ.\n\n### Book 22\n\nαὐτὰρ ὁ γυμνώθη ῥακέων πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἆλτο δʼ ἐπὶ μέγαν οὐδόν, ἔχων βιὸν ἠδὲ φαρέτρην\nἰῶν ἐμπλείην, ταχέας δʼ ἐκχεύατʼ ὀϊστοὺς\nαὐτοῦ πρόσθε ποδῶν, μετὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσιν ἔειπεν·\nοὗτος μὲν δὴ ἄεθλος ἀάατος ἐκτετέλεσται·\nνῦν αὖτε σκοπὸν ἄλλον, ὃν οὔ πώ τις βάλεν ἀνήρ,\nεἴσομαι, αἴ κε τύχωμι, πόρῃ δέ μοι εὖχος Ἀπόλλων.\nἦ καὶ ἐπʼ Ἀντινόῳ ἰθύνετο πικρὸν ὀϊστόν.\nἦ τοι ὁ καλὸν ἄλεισον ἀναιρήσεσθαι ἔμελλε,\nχρύσεον ἄμφωτον, καὶ δὴ μετὰ χερσὶν ἐνώμα,\nὄφρα πίοι οἴνοιο· φόνος δέ οἱ οὐκ ἐνὶ θυμῷ\nμέμβλετο· τίς κʼ οἴοιτο μετʼ ἀνδράσι δαιτυμόνεσσι\nμοῦνον ἐνὶ πλεόνεσσι, καὶ εἰ μάλα καρτερὸς εἴη,\nοἷ τεύξειν θάνατόν τε κακὸν καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν;\nτὸν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατὰ λαιμὸν ἐπισχόμενος βάλεν ἰῷ,\nἀντικρὺ δʼ ἁπαλοῖο διʼ αὐχένος ἤλυθʼ ἀκωκή.\nἐκλίνθη δʼ ἑτέρωσε, δέπας δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε χειρὸς\nβλημένου, αὐτίκα δʼ αὐλὸς ἀνὰ ῥῖνας παχὺς ἦλθεν\nαἵματος ἀνδρομέοιο· θοῶς δʼ ἀπὸ εἷο τράπεζαν\nὦσε ποδὶ πλήξας, ἀπὸ δʼ εἴδατα χεῦεν ἔραζε·\nσῖτός τε κρέα τʼ ὀπτὰ φορύνετο. τοὶ δʼ ὁμάδησαν\nμνηστῆρες κατὰ δώμαθʼ, ὅπως ἴδον ἄνδρα πεσόντα,\nἐκ δὲ θρόνων ἀνόρουσαν ὀρινθέντες κατὰ δῶμα,\nπάντοσε παπταίνοντες ἐϋδμήτους ποτὶ τοίχους·\nοὐδέ πη ἀσπὶς ἔην οὐδʼ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος ἑλέσθαι.\nνείκειον δʼ Ὀδυσῆα χολωτοῖσιν ἐπέεσσι·\nξεῖνε, κακῶς ἀνδρῶν τοξάζεαι· οὐκέτʼ ἀέθλων\nἄλλων ἀντιάσεις· νῦν τοι σῶς αἰπὺς ὄλεθρος.\nκαὶ γὰρ δὴ νῦν φῶτα κατέκτανες ὃς μέγʼ ἄριστος\nκούρων εἰν Ἰθάκῃ· τῷ σʼ ἐνθάδε γῦπες ἔδονται.\nἴσκεν ἕκαστος ἀνήρ, ἐπεὶ ἦ φάσαν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα\nἄνδρα κατακτεῖναι· τὸ δὲ νήπιοι οὐκ ἐνόησαν,\nὡς δή σφιν καὶ πᾶσιν ὀλέθρου πείρατʼ ἐφῆπτο.\nτοὺς δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ κύνες, οὔ μʼ ἔτʼ ἐφάσκεθʼ ὑπότροπον οἴκαδʼ ἱκέσθαι\nδήμου ἄπο Τρώων, ὅτι μοι κατεκείρετε οἶκον,\nδμῳῇσιν δὲ γυναιξὶ παρευνάζεσθε βιαίως,\nαὐτοῦ τε ζώοντος ὑπεμνάασθε γυναῖκα,\nοὔτε θεοὺς δείσαντες, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,\nοὔτε τινʼ ἀνθρώπων νέμεσιν κατόπισθεν ἔσεσθαι·\nνῦν ὑμῖν καὶ πᾶσιν ὀλέθρου πείρατʼ ἐφῆπται.\nὣς φάτο, τοὺς δʼ ἄρα πάντας ὑπὸ χλωρὸν δέος εἷλεν·\nπάπτηνεν δὲ ἕκαστος ὅπη φύγοι αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.\nΕὐρύμαχος δέ μιν οἶος ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·\nεἰ μὲν δὴ Ὀδυσεὺς Ἰθακήσιος εἰλήλουθας,\nταῦτα μὲν αἴσιμα εἶπας, ὅσα ῥέζεσκον Ἀχαιοί,\nπολλὰ μὲν ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀτάσθαλα, πολλὰ δʼ ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ.\nἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἤδη κεῖται ὃς αἴτιος ἔπλετο πάντων,\nἈντίνοος· οὗτος γὰρ ἐπίηλεν τάδε ἔργα,\nοὔ τι γάμου τόσσον κεχρημένος οὐδὲ χατίζων,\nἀλλʼ ἄλλα φρονέων, τά οἱ οὐκ ἐτέλεσσε Κρονίων,\nὄφρʼ Ἰθάκης κατὰ δῆμον ἐϋκτιμένης βασιλεύοι\nαὐτός, ἀτὰρ σὸν παῖδα κατακτείνειε λοχήσας.\nνῦν δʼ ὁ μὲν ἐν μοίρῃ πέφαται, σὺ δὲ φείδεο λαῶν\nσῶν· ἀτὰρ ἄμμες ὄπισθεν ἀρεσσάμενοι κατὰ δῆμον,\nὅσσα τοι ἐκπέποται καὶ ἐδήδοται ἐν μεγάροισι,\nτιμὴν ἀμφὶς ἄγοντες ἐεικοσάβοιον ἕκαστος,\nχαλκόν τε χρυσόν τʼ ἀποδώσομεν, εἰς ὅ κε σὸν κῆρ\nἰανθῇ· πρὶν δʼ οὔ τι νεμεσσητὸν κεχολῶσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nΕὐρύμαχʼ, οὐδʼ εἴ μοι πατρώϊα πάντʼ ἀποδοῖτε,\nὅσσα τε νῦν ὔμμʼ ἐστὶ καὶ εἴ ποθεν ἄλλʼ ἐπιθεῖτε,\nοὐδέ κεν ὣς ἔτι χεῖρας ἐμὰς λήξαιμι φόνοιο\nπρὶν πᾶσαν μνηστῆρας ὑπερβασίην ἀποτῖσαι.\nνῦν ὑμῖν παράκειται ἐναντίον ἠὲ μάχεσθαι\nἢ φεύγειν, ὅς κεν θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξῃ·\nἀλλά τινʼ οὐ φεύξεσθαι ὀΐομαι αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.\nὣς φάτο, τῶν δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρύμαχος προσεφώνεε δεύτερον αὖτις·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐ γὰρ σχήσει ἀνὴρ ὅδε χεῖρας ἀάπτους,\nἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ ἔλλαβε τόξον ἐΰξοον ἠδὲ φαρέτρην,\nοὐδοῦ ἄπο ξεστοῦ τοξάσσεται, εἰς ὅ κε πάντας\nἄμμε κατακτείνῃ· ἀλλὰ μνησώμεθα χάρμης.\nφάσγανά τε σπάσσασθε καὶ ἀντίσχεσθε τραπέζας\nἰῶν ὠκυμόρων· ἐπὶ δʼ αὐτῷ πάντες ἔχωμεν\nἀθρόοι, εἴ κέ μιν οὐδοῦ ἀπώσομεν ἠδὲ θυράων,\nἔλθωμεν δʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ, βοὴ δʼ ὤκιστα γένοιτο·\nτῷ κε τάχʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ νῦν ὕστατα τοξάσσαιτο.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας εἰρύσσατο φάσγανον ὀξὺ\nχάλκεον, ἀμφοτέρωθεν ἀκαχμένον, ἆλτο δʼ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ\nσμερδαλέα ἰάχων· ὁ δʼ ἁμαρτῆ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἰὸν ἀποπροίει, βάλε δὲ στῆθος παρὰ μαζόν,\nἐν δέ οἱ ἥπατι πῆξε θοὸν βέλος· ἐκ δʼ ἄρα χειρὸς\nφάσγανον ἧκε χαμᾶζε, περιρρηδὴς δὲ τραπέζῃ\nκάππεσεν ἰδνωθείς, ἀπὸ δʼ εἴδατα χεῦεν ἔραζε\nκαὶ δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον· ὁ δὲ χθόνα τύπτε μετώπῳ\nθυμῷ ἀνιάζων, ποσὶ δὲ θρόνον ἀμφοτέροισι\nλακτίζων ἐτίνασσε· κατʼ ὀφθαλμῶν δʼ ἔχυτʼ ἀχλύς.\nἈμφίνομος δʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐείσατο κυδαλίμοιο\nἀντίος ἀΐξας, εἴρυτο δὲ φάσγανον ὀξύ,\nεἴ πώς οἱ εἴξειε θυράων. ἀλλʼ ἄρα μιν φθῆ\nΤηλέμαχος κατόπισθε βαλὼν χαλκήρεϊ δουρὶ\nὤμων μεσσηγύς, διὰ δὲ στήθεσφιν ἔλασσεν·\nδούπησεν δὲ πεσών, χθόνα δʼ ἤλασε παντὶ μετώπῳ.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἀπόρουσε, λιπὼν δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος\nαὐτοῦ ἐν Ἀμφινόμῳ· περὶ γὰρ δίε μή τις Ἀχαιῶν\nἔγχος ἀνελκόμενον δολιχόσκιον ἢ ἐλάσειε\nφασγάνῳ ἀΐξας ἠὲ προπρηνέα τύψας.\nβῆ δὲ θέειν, μάλα δʼ ὦκα φίλον πατέρʼ εἰσαφίκανεν,\nἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nὦ πάτερ, ἤδη τοι σάκος οἴσω καὶ δύο δοῦρε\nκαὶ κυνέην πάγχαλκον, ἐπὶ κροτάφοις ἀραρυῖαν\nαὐτός τʼ ἀμφιβαλεῦμαι ἰών, δώσω δὲ συβώτῃ\nκαὶ τῷ βουκόλῳ ἄλλα· τετευχῆσθαι γὰρ ἄμεινον.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nοἶσε θέων, ἧός μοι ἀμύνεσθαι πάρʼ ὀϊστοί,\nμή μʼ ἀποκινήσωσι θυράων μοῦνον ἐόντα.\nὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ φίλῳ ἐπεπείθετο πατρί,\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεναι θάλαμόνδʼ, ὅθι οἱ κλυτὰ τεύχεα κεῖτο.\nἔνθεν τέσσαρα μὲν σάκεʼ ἔξελε, δούρατα δʼ ὀκτὼ\nκαὶ πίσυρας κυνέας χαλκήρεας ἱπποδασείας·\nβῆ δὲ φέρων, μάλα δʼ ὦκα φίλον πατέρʼ εἰσαφίκανεν,\nαὐτὸς δὲ πρώτιστα περὶ χροῒ δύσετο χαλκόν·\nὣς δʼ αὔτως τὼ δμῶε δυέσθην τεύχεα καλά,\nἔσταν δʼ ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα δαΐφρονα ποικιλομήτην.\nαὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ, ὄφρα μὲν αὐτῷ ἀμύνεσθαι ἔσαν ἰοί.\nτόφρα μνηστήρων ἕνα γʼ αἰεὶ ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nβάλλε τιτυσκόμενος· τοὶ δʼ ἀγχιστῖνοι ἔπιπτον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ λίπον ἰοὶ ὀϊστεύοντα ἄνακτα,\nτόξον μὲν πρὸς σταθμὸν ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο\nἔκλινʼ ἑστάμεναι, πρὸς ἐνώπια παμφανόωντα,\nαὐτὸς δʼ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισι σάκος θέτο τετραθέλυμνον,\nκρατὶ δʼ ἐπʼ ἰφθίμῳ κυνέην εὔτυκτον ἔθηκεν,\nἵππουριν, δεινὸν δὲ λόφος καθύπερθεν ἔνευεν·\nεἵλετο δʼ ἄλκιμα δοῦρε δύω κεκορυθμένα χαλκῷ.\nὀρσοθύρη δέ τις ἔσκεν ἐϋδμήτῳ ἐνὶ τοίχῳ,\nἀκρότατον δὲ παρʼ οὐδὸν ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο\nἦν ὁδὸς ἐς λαύρην, σανίδες δʼ ἔχον εὖ ἀραρυῖαι.\nτὴν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς φράζεσθαι ἀνώγει δῖον ὑφορβὸν\nἑσταότʼ ἄγχʼ αὐτῆς· μία δʼ οἴη γίγνετʼ ἐφορμή.\nτοῖς δʼ Ἀγέλεως μετέειπεν, ἔπος πάντεσσι πιφαύσκων·\nὦ φίλοι, οὐκ ἂν δή τις ἀνʼ ὀρσοθύρην ἀναβαίη\nκαὶ εἴποι λαοῖσι, βοὴ δʼ ὤκιστα γένοιτο;\nτῷ κε τάχʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ νῦν ὕστατα τοξάσσαιτο.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν·\nοὔ πως ἔστʼ, Ἀγέλαε διοτρεφές· ἄγχι γὰρ αἰνῶς\nαὐλῆς καλὰ θύρετρα καὶ ἀργαλέον στόμα λαύρης·\nκαί χʼ εἷς πάντας ἐρύκοι ἀνήρ, ὅς τʼ ἄλκιμος εἴη.\nἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ, ὑμῖν τεύχεʼ ἐνείκω θωρηχθῆναι\nἐκ θαλάμου· ἔνδον γάρ, ὀΐομαι, οὐδέ πη ἄλλῃ\nτεύχεα κατθέσθην Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ φαίδιμος υἱός.\nὣς εἰπὼν ἀνέβαινε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν,\nεἰς θαλάμους Ὀδυσῆος ἀνὰ ῥῶγας μεγάροιο.\nἔνθεν δώδεκα μὲν σάκεʼ ἔξελε, τόσσα δὲ δοῦρα\nκαὶ τόσσας κυνέας χαλκήρεας ἱπποδασείας·\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεναι, μάλα δʼ ὦκα φέρων μνηστῆρσιν ἔδωκεν.\nκαὶ τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆος λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,\nὡς περιβαλλομένους ἴδε τεύχεα χερσί τε δοῦρα\nμακρὰ τινάσσοντας· μέγα δʼ αὐτῷ φαίνετο ἔργον.\nαἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, ἦ μάλα δή τις ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναικῶν\nνῶϊν ἐποτρύνει πόλεμον κακὸν ἠὲ Μελανθεύς.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nὦ πάτερ, αὐτὸς ἐγὼ τόδε γʼ ἤμβροτον—οὐδέ τις ἄλλος\nαἴτιος—ὃς θαλάμοιο θύρην πυκινῶς ἀραρυῖαν\nκάλλιπον ἀγκλίνας· τῶν δὲ σκοπὸς ἦεν ἀμείνων.\nἀλλʼ ἴθι, δῖʼ Εὔμαιε, θύρην ἐπίθες θαλάμοιο\nκαὶ φράσαι ἤ τις ἄρʼ ἐστὶ γυναικῶν ἣ τάδε ῥέζει,\nἢ υἱὸς Δολίοιο, Μελανθεύς, τόν περ ὀΐω.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nβῆ δʼ αὖτις θάλαμόνδε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν,\nοἴσων τεύχεα καλά. νόησε δὲ δῖος ὑφορβός,\nαἶψα δʼ Ὀδυσσῆα προσεφώνεεν ἐγγὺς ἐόντα·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nκεῖνος δʼ αὖτʼ ἀΐδηλος ἀνήρ, ὃν ὀϊόμεθʼ αὐτοί,\nἔρχεται ἐς θάλαμον· σὺ δέ μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες,\nἤ μιν ἀποκτείνω, αἴ κε κρείσσων γε γένωμαι,\nἦε σοὶ ἐνθάδʼ ἄγω, ἵνʼ ὑπερβασίας ἀποτίσῃ\nπολλάς, ὅσσας οὗτος ἐμήσατο σῷ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἦ τοι ἐγὼ καὶ Τηλέμαχος μνηστῆρας ἀγαυοὺς\nσχήσομεν ἔντοσθεν μεγάρων, μάλα περ μεμαῶτας.\nσφῶϊ δʼ ἀποστρέψαντε πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὕπερθεν\nἐς θάλαμον βαλέειν, σανίδας δʼ ἐκδῆσαι ὄπισθε,\nσειρὴν δὲ πλεκτὴν ἐξ αὐτοῦ πειρήναντε\nκίονʼ ἀνʼ ὑψηλὴν ἐρύσαι πελάσαι τε δοκοῖσιν,\nὥς κεν δηθὰ ζωὸς ἐὼν χαλέπʼ ἄλγεα πάσχῃ·\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο,\nβὰν δʼ ἴμεν ἐς θάλαμον, λαθέτην δέ μιν ἔνδον ἐόντα.\nἦ τοι ὁ μὲν θαλάμοιο μυχὸν κάτα τεύχεʼ ἐρεύνα,\nτὼ δʼ ἔσταν ἑκάτερθε παρὰ σταθμοῖσι μένοντε.\nεὖθʼ ὑπὲρ οὐδὸν ἔβαινε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν,\nτῇ ἑτέρῃ μὲν χειρὶ φέρων καλὴν τρυφάλειαν,\nτῇ δʼ ἑτέρῃ σάκος εὐρὺ γέρον, πεπαλαγμένον ἄζῃ,\nΛαέρτεω ἥρωος, ὃ κουρίζων φορέεσκε·\nδὴ τότε γʼ ἤδη κεῖτο, ῥαφαὶ δὲ λέλυντο ἱμάντων·\nτὼ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπαΐξανθʼ ἑλέτην ἔρυσάν τέ μιν εἴσω\nκουρίξ, ἐν δαπέδῳ δὲ χαμαὶ βάλον ἀχνύμενον κῆρ,\nσὺν δὲ πόδας χεῖράς τε δέον θυμαλγέϊ δεσμῷ\nεὖ μάλʼ ἀποστρέψαντε διαμπερές, ὡς ἐκέλευσεν\nυἱὸς Λαέρταο, πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nσειρὴν δὲ πλεκτὴν ἐξ αὐτοῦ πειρήναντε\nκίονʼ ἀνʼ ὑψηλὴν ἔρυσαν πέλασάν τε δοκοῖσι.\nτὸν δʼ ἐπικερτομέων προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·\nνῦν μὲν δὴ μάλα πάγχυ, Μελάνθιε, νύκτα φυλάξεις,\nεὐνῇ ἔνι μαλακῇ καταλέγμενος, ὥς σε ἔοικεν·\nοὐδέ σέ γʼ ἠριγένεια παρʼ Ὠκεανοῖο ῥοάων\nλήσει ἐπερχομένη χρυσόθρονος, ἡνίκʼ ἀγινεῖς\nαἶγας μνηστήρεσσι δόμον κάτα δαῖτα πένεσθαι.\nὣς ὁ μὲν αὖθι λέλειπτο, ταθεὶς ὀλοῷ ἐνὶ δεσμῷ·\nτὼ δʼ ἐς τεύχεα δύντε, θύρην ἐπιθέντε φαεινήν,\nβήτην εἰς Ὀδυσῆα δαΐφρονα, ποικιλομήτην.\nἔνθα μένος πνείοντες ἐφέστασαν, οἱ μὲν ἐπʼ οὐδοῦ\nτέσσαρες, οἱ δʼ ἔντοσθε δόμων πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοί.\nτοῖσι δʼ ἐπʼ ἀγχίμολον θυγάτηρ Διὸς ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη,\nΜέντορι εἰδομένη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ αὐδήν.\nτὴν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς γήθησεν ἰδὼν καὶ μῦθον ἔειπε·\nΜέντορ, ἄμυνον ἀρήν, μνῆσαι δʼ ἑτάροιο φίλοιο,\nὅς σʼ ἀγαθὰ ῥέζεσκον· ὁμηλικίην δέ μοί ἐσσι.\nὣς φάτʼ, ὀϊόμενος λαοσσόον ἔμμεν Ἀθήνην.\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ἑτέρωθεν ὁμόκλεον ἐν μεγάροισι·\nπρῶτος τήν γʼ ἐνένιπε Δαμαστορίδης Ἀγέλαος·\nΜέντορ, μή σʼ ἐπέεσσι παραιπεπίθῃσιν Ὀδυσσεὺς\nμνηστήρεσσι μάχεσθαι, ἀμυνέμεναι δέ οἱ αὐτῷ.\nὧδε γὰρ ἡμέτερόν γε νόον τελέεσθαι ὀΐω·\nὁππότε κεν τούτους κτέωμεν, πατέρʼ ἠδὲ καὶ υἱόν,\nἐν δὲ σὺ τοῖσιν ἔπειτα πεφήσεαι, οἷα μενοινᾷς\nἔρδειν ἐν μεγάροις· σῷ δʼ αὐτοῦ κράατι τίσεις.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ὑμέων γε βίας ἀφελώμεθα χαλκῷ,\nκτήμαθʼ ὁπόσσα τοί ἐστι, τά τʼ ἔνδοθι καὶ τὰ θύρηφι,\nτοῖσιν Ὀδυσσῆος μεταμίξομεν· οὐδέ τοι υἷας\nζώειν ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐάσομεν, οὐδέ θύγατρας\nοὐδʼ ἄλοχον κεδνὴν Ἰθάκης κατὰ ἄστυ πολεύειν.\nὣς φάτʼ, Ἀθηναίη δὲ χολώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,\nνείκεσσεν δʼ Ὀδυσῆα χολωτοῖσιν ἐπέεσσιν·\nοὐκέτι σοί γʼ, Ὀδυσεῦ, μένος ἔμπεδον οὐδέ τις ἀλκή\nοἵη ὅτʼ ἀμφʼ Ἑλένῃ λευκωλένῳ εὐπατερείῃ,\nεἰνάετες Τρώεσσιν ἐμάρναο νωλεμὲς αἰεί,\nπολλοὺς δʼ ἄνδρας ἔπεφνες ἐν αἰνῇ δηϊοτῆτι,\nσῇ δʼ ἥλω βουλῇ Πριάμου πόλις εὐρυάγυια.\nπῶς δὴ νῦν, ὅτε σόν τε δόμον καὶ κτήμαθʼ ἱκάνεις,\nἄντα μνηστήρων ὀλοφύρεαι ἄλκιμος εἶναι;\nἀλλʼ ἄγε δεῦρο, πέπον, παρʼ ἔμʼ ἵστασο καὶ ἴδε ἔργον,\nὄφρʼ εἰδῇς οἷός τοι ἐν ἀνδράσι δυσμενέεσσιν\nΜέντωρ Ἀλκιμίδης εὐεργεσίας ἀποτίνειν.\nἦ ῥα, καὶ οὔ πω πάγχυ δίδου ἑτεραλκέα νίκην,\nἀλλʼ ἔτʼ ἄρα σθένεός τε καὶ ἀλκῆς πειρήτιζεν\nἠμὲν Ὀδυσσῆος ἠδʼ υἱοῦ κυδαλίμοιο.\nαὐτὴ δʼ αἰθαλόεντος ἀνὰ μεγάροιο μέλαθρον\nἕζετʼ ἀναΐξασα, χελιδόνι εἰκέλη ἄντην.\nμνηστῆρας δʼ ὤτρυνε Δαμαστορίδης Ἀγέλαος,\nΕὐρύνομός τε καὶ Ἀμφιμέδων Δημοπτόλεμός τε,\nΠείσανδρός τε Πολυκτορίδης Πόλυβός τε δαΐφρων·\nοἱ γὰρ μνηστήρων ἀρετῇ ἔσαν ἔξοχʼ ἄριστοι,\nὅσσοι ἔτʼ ἔζωον περί τε ψυχέων ἐμάχοντο·\nτοὺς δʼ ἤδη ἐδάμασσε βιὸς καὶ ταρφέες ἰοί.\nτοῖς δʼ Ἀγέλεως μετέειπεν, ἔπος πάντεσσι πιφαύσκων·\nὦ φίλοι, ἤδη σχήσει ἀνὴρ ὅδε χεῖρας ἀάπτους·\nκαὶ δή οἱ Μέντωρ μὲν ἔβη κενὰ εὔγματα εἰπών,\nοἱ δʼ οἶοι λείπονται ἐπὶ πρώτῃσι θύρῃσι.\nτῷ νῦν μὴ ἅμα πάντες ἐφίετε δούρατα μακρά,\nἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ οἱ ἓξ πρῶτον ἀκοντίσατʼ, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς\nδώῃ Ὀδυσσῆα βλῆσθαι καὶ κῦδος ἀρέσθαι.\nτῶν δʼ ἄλλων οὐ κῆδος, ἐπὴν οὗτός γε πέσῃσιν.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκόντισαν ὡς ἐκέλευεν,\nἱέμενοι· τὰ δὲ πάντα ἐτώσια θῆκεν Ἀθήνη,\nτῶν ἄλλος μὲν σταθμὸν ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο\nβεβλήκει, ἄλλος δὲ θύρην πυκινῶς ἀραρυῖαν·\nἄλλου δʼ ἐν τοίχῳ μελίη πέσε χαλκοβάρεια.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ δούρατʼ ἀλεύαντο μνηστήρων,\nτοῖς δʼ ἄρα μύθων ἦρχε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nὦ φίλοι, ἤδη μέν κεν ἐγὼν εἴποιμι καὶ ἄμμι\nμνηστήρων ἐς ὅμιλον ἀκοντίσαι, οἳ μεμάασιν\nἡμέας ἐξεναρίξαι ἐπὶ προτέροισι κακοῖσιν.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκόντισαν ὀξέα δοῦρα\nἄντα τιτυσκόμενοι· Δημοπτόλεμον μὲν Ὀδυσσεύς,\nΕὐρυάδην δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος, Ἔλατον δὲ συβώτης,\nΠείσανδρον δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπεφνε βοῶν ἐπιβουκόλος ἀνήρ.\nοἱ μὲν ἔπειθʼ ἅμα πάντες ὀδὰξ ἕλον ἄσπετον οὖδας,\nμνηστῆρες δʼ ἀνεχώρησαν μεγάροιο μυχόνδε·\nτοὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπήϊξαν, νεκύων δʼ ἐξ ἔγχεʼ ἕλοντο.\nαὖτις δὲ μνηστῆρες ἀκόντισαν ὀξέα δοῦρα\nἱέμενοι· τὰ δὲ πολλὰ ἐτώσια θῆκεν Ἀθήνη.\nτῶν ἄλλος μὲν σταθμὸν ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο\nβεβλήκειν, ἄλλος δὲ θύρην πυκινῶς ἀραρυῖαν·\nἄλλου δʼ ἐν τοίχῳ μελίη πέσε χαλκοβάρεια.\nἈμφιμέδων δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχον βάλε χεῖρʼ ἐπὶ καρπῷ\nλίγδην, ἄκρον δὲ ῥινὸν δηλήσατο χαλκός.\nΚτήσιππος δʼ Εὔμαιον ὑπὲρ σάκος ἔγχεϊ μακρῷ\nὦμον ἐπέγραψεν· τὸ δʼ ὑπέρπτατο, πῖπτε δʼ ἔραζε.\nτοὶ δʼ αὖτʼ ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα δαΐφρονα ποικιλομήτην,\nμνηστήρων ἐς ὅμιλον ἀκόντισαν ὀξέα δοῦρα.\nἔνθʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρυδάμαντα βάλε πτολίπορθος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nἈμφιμέδοντα δὲ Τηλέμαχος, Πόλυβον δὲ συβώτης·\nΚτήσιππον δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα βοῶν ἐπιβουκόλος ἀνὴρ\nβεβλήκει πρὸς στῆθος, ἐπευχόμενος δὲ προσηύδα·\nὦ Πολυθερσεΐδη φιλοκέρτομε, μή ποτε πάμπαν\nεἴκων ἀφραδίῃς μέγα εἰπεῖν, ἀλλὰ θεοῖσιν\nμῦθον ἐπιτρέψαι, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτεροί εἰσι.\nτοῦτό τοι ἀντὶ ποδὸς ξεινήϊον, ὅν ποτʼ ἔδωκας\nἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆϊ δόμον κάτʼ ἀλητεύοντι.\nἦ ῥα βοῶν ἑλίκων ἐπιβουκόλος· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nοὖτα Δαμαστορίδην αὐτοσχεδὸν ἔγχεϊ μακρῷ.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ Εὐηνορίδην Λειώκριτον οὖτα\nδουρὶ μέσον κενεῶνα, διαπρὸ δὲ χαλκὸν ἔλασσεν·\nἤριπε δὲ πρηνής, χθόνα δʼ ἤλασε παντὶ μετώπῳ.\nδὴ τότʼ Ἀθηναίη φθισίμβροτον αἰγίδʼ ἀνέσχεν\nὑψόθεν ἐξ ὀροφῆς· τῶν δὲ φρένες ἐπτοίηθεν.\nοἱ δʼ ἐφέβοντο κατὰ μέγαρον βόες ὣς ἀγελαῖαι·\nτὰς μέν τʼ αἰόλος οἶστρος ἐφορμηθεὶς ἐδόνησεν\nὥρῃ ἐν εἰαρινῇ, ὅτε τʼ ἤματα μακρὰ πέλονται.\nοἱ δʼ ὥς τʼ αἰγυπιοὶ γαμψώνυχες ἀγκυλοχεῖλαι,\nἐξ ὀρέων ἐλθόντες ἐπʼ ὀρνίθεσσι θόρωσι·\nταὶ μέν τʼ ἐν πεδίῳ νέφεα πτώσσουσαι ἵενται,\nοἱ δέ τε τὰς ὀλέκουσιν ἐπάλμενοι, οὐδέ τις ἀλκὴ\nγίγνεται οὐδὲ φυγή· χαίρουσι δέ τʼ ἀνέρες ἄγρῃ·\nὣς ἄρα τοὶ μνηστῆρας ἐπεσσύμενοι κατὰ δῶμα\nτύπτον ἐπιστροφάδην· τῶν δὲ στόνος ὤρνυτʼ ἀεικὴς\nκράτων τυπτομένων, δάπεδον δʼ ἅπαν αἵματι θῦε.\nΛειώδης δʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐπεσσύμενος λάβε γούνων,\nκαί μιν λισσόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nγουνοῦμαί σʼ, Ὀδυσεῦ· σὺ δέ μʼ αἴδεο καί μʼ ἐλέησον·\nοὐ γάρ πώ τινά φημι γυναικῶν ἐν μεγάροισιν\nεἰπεῖν οὐδέ τι ῥέξαι ἀτάσθαλον· ἀλλὰ καὶ ἄλλους\nπαύεσκον μνηστῆρας, ὅτις τοιαῦτά γε ῥέζοι.\nἀλλά μοι οὐ πείθοντο κακῶν ἄπο χεῖρας ἔχεσθαι·\nτῷ καὶ ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐπέσπον.\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ μετὰ τοῖσι θυοσκόος οὐδὲν ἐοργὼς\nκείσομαι, ὡς οὐκ ἔστι χάρις μετόπισθʼ εὐεργέων·\nτὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nεἰ μὲν δὴ μετὰ τοῖσι θυοσκόος εὔχεαι εἶναι,\nπολλάκι που μέλλεις ἀρήμεναι ἐν μεγάροισι\nτηλοῦ ἐμοὶ νόστοιο τέλος γλυκεροῖο γενέσθαι,\nσοὶ δʼ ἄλοχόν τε φίλην σπέσθαι καὶ τέκνα τεκέσθαι·\nτῷ οὐκ ἂν θάνατόν γε δυσηλεγέα προφύγοισθα.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ξίφος εἵλετο χειρὶ παχείῃ\nκείμενον, ὅ ῥʼ Ἀγέλαος ἀποπροέηκε χαμᾶζε\nκτεινόμενος· τῷ τόν γε κατʼ αὐχένα μέσσον ἔλασσε.\nφθεγγομένου δʼ ἄρα τοῦ γε κάρη κονίῃσιν ἐμίχθη.\nΤερπιάδης δʼ ἔτʼ ἀοιδὸς ἀλύσκανε κῆρα μέλαιναν,\nΦήμιος, ὅς ῥʼ ἤειδε μετὰ μνηστῆρσιν ἀνάγκῃ.\nἔστη δʼ ἐν χείρεσσίν ἔχων φόρμιγγα λίγειαν\nἄγχι παρʼ ὀρσοθύρην· δίχα δὲ φρεσὶ μερμήριζεν,\nἢ ἐκδὺς μεγάροιο Διὸς μεγάλου ποτὶ βωμὸν\nἑρκείου ἵζοιτο τετυγμένον, ἔνθʼ ἄρα πολλὰ\nΛαέρτης Ὀδυσεύς τε βοῶν ἐπὶ μηρίʼ ἔκηαν,\nἦ γούνων λίσσοιτο προσαΐξας Ὀδυσῆα.\nὧδε δέ οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,\nγούνων ἅψασθαι Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος.\nἦ τοι ὁ φόρμιγγα γλαφυρὴν κατέθηκε χαμᾶζε\nμεσσηγὺς κρητῆρος ἰδὲ θρόνου ἀργυροήλου,\nαὐτὸς δʼ αὖτʼ Ὀδυσῆα προσαΐξας λάβε γούνων,\nκαί μιν λισσόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nγουνοῦμαί σʼ, Ὀδυσεῦ· σὺ δέ μʼ αἴδεο καί μʼ ἐλέησον·\nαὐτῷ τοι μετόπισθʼ ἄχος ἔσσεται, εἴ κεν ἀοιδὸν\nπέφνῃς, ὅς τε θεοῖσι καὶ ἀνθρώποισιν ἀείδω.\nαὐτοδίδακτος δʼ εἰμί, θεὸς δέ μοι ἐν φρεσὶν οἴμας\nπαντοίας ἐνέφυσεν· ἔοικα δέ τοι παραείδειν\nὥς τε θεῷ· τῷ μή με λιλαίεο δειροτομῆσαι.\nκαί κεν Τηλέμαχος τάδε γʼ εἴποι, σὸς φίλος υἱός,\nὡς ἐγὼ οὔ τι ἑκὼν ἐς σὸν δόμον οὐδὲ χατίζων\nπωλεύμην μνηστῆρσιν ἀεισόμενος μετὰ δαῖτας,\nἀλλὰ πολὺ πλέονες καὶ κρείσσονες ἦγον ἀνάγκῃ.\nὣς φάτο, τοῦ δʼ ἤκουσʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο,\nαἶψα δʼ ἑὸν πατέρα προσεφώνεεν ἐγγὺς ἐόντα·\nἴσχεο μηδέ τι τοῦτον ἀναίτιον οὔταε χαλκῷ·\nκαὶ κήρυκα Μέδοντα σαώσομεν, ὅς τέ μευ αἰεὶ\nοἴκῳ ἐν ἡμετέρῳ κηδέσκετο παιδὸς ἐόντος,\nεἰ δὴ μή μιν ἔπεφνε Φιλοίτιος ἠὲ συβώτης,\nἠὲ σοὶ ἀντεβόλησεν ὀρινομένῳ κατὰ δῶμα.\nὣς φάτο, τοῦ δʼ ἤκουσε Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·\nπεπτηὼς γὰρ ἔκειτο ὑπὸ θρόνον, ἀμφὶ δὲ δέρμα\nἕστο βοὸς νεόδαρτον, ἀλύσκων κῆρα μέλαιναν.\nαἶψα δʼ ἀπὸ θρόνου ὦρτο, θοῶς δʼ ἀπέδυνε βοείην\nΤηλέμαχον δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα προσαΐξας λάβε γούνων,\nκαί μιν λισσόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nὦ φίλʼ, ἐγὼ μὲν ὅδʼ εἰμί, σὺ δʼ ἴσχεο εἰπὲ δὲ πατρὶ\nμή με περισθενέων δηλήσεται ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,\nἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων κεχολωμένος, οἵ οἱ ἔκειρον\nκτήματʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροις, σὲ δὲ νήπιοι οὐδὲν ἔτιον.\nτὸν δʼ ἐπιμειδήσας προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nθάρσει, ἐπεὶ δή σʼ οὗτος ἐρύσσατο καὶ ἐσάωσεν,\nὄφρα γνῷς κατὰ θυμόν, ἀτὰρ εἴπῃσθα καὶ ἄλλῳ,\nὡς κακοεργίης εὐεργεσίη μέγʼ ἀμείνων.\nἀλλʼ ἐξελθόντες μεγάρων ἕζεσθε θύραζε\nἐκ φόνου εἰς αὐλήν, σύ τε καὶ πολύφημος ἀοιδός,\nὄφρʼ ἂν ἐγὼ κατὰ δῶμα πονήσομαι ὅττεό με χρή.\nὣς φάτο, τὼ δʼ ἔξω βήτην μεγάροιο κιόντε,\nἑζέσθην δʼ ἄρα τώ γε Διὸς μεγάλου ποτὶ βωμόν,\nπάντοσε παπταίνοντε, φόνον ποτιδεγμένω αἰεί.\nπάπτηνεν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καθʼ ἑὸν δόμον, εἴ τις ἔτʼ ἀνδρῶν\nζωὸς ὑποκλοπέοιτο, ἀλύσκων κῆρα μέλαιναν.\nτοὺς δὲ ἴδεν μάλα πάντας ἐν αἵματι καὶ κονίῃσι\nπεπτεῶτας πολλούς, ὥστʼ ἰχθύας, οὕς θʼ ἁλιῆες\nκοῖλον ἐς αἰγιαλὸν πολιῆς ἔκτοσθε θαλάσσης\nδικτύῳ ἐξέρυσαν πολυωπῷ· οἱ δέ τε πάντες\nκύμαθʼ ἁλὸς ποθέοντες ἐπὶ ψαμάθοισι κέχυνται·\nτῶν μέν τʼ Ἠέλιος φαέθων ἐξείλετο θυμόν·\nὣς τότʼ ἄρα μνηστῆρες ἐπʼ ἀλλήλοισι κέχυντο.\nδὴ τότε Τηλέμαχον προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, εἰ δʼ ἄγε μοι κάλεσον τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν,\nὄφρα ἔπος εἴπωμι τό μοι καταθύμιόν ἐστιν.\nὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ φίλῳ ἐπεπείθετο πατρί,\nκινήσας δὲ θύρην προσέφη τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν·\nδεῦρο δὴ ὄρσο, γρηῢ παλαιγενές, ἥ τε γυναικῶν\nδμῳάων σκοπός ἐσσι κατὰ μέγαρʼ ἡμετεράων·\nἔρχεο· κικλήσκει σε πατὴρ ἐμός, ὄφρα τι εἴπῃ.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, τῇ δʼ ἄπτερος ἔπλετο μῦθος,\nὤϊξεν δὲ θύρας μεγάρων εὖ ναιεταόντων,\nβῆ δʼ ἴμεν· αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος πρόσθʼ ἡγεμόνευεν.\nεὗρεν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ κταμένοισι νέκυσσιν,\nαἵματι καὶ λύθρῳ πεπαλαγμένον ὥστε λέοντα,\nὅς ῥά τε βεβρωκὼς βοὸς ἔρχεται ἀγραύλοιο·\nπᾶν δʼ ἄρα οἱ στῆθός τε παρήϊά τʼ ἀμφοτέρωθεν\nαἱματόεντα πέλει, δεινὸς δʼ εἰς ὦπα ἰδέσθαι·\nὣς Ὀδυσεὺς πεπάλακτο πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὕπερθεν.\nἡ δʼ ὡς οὖν νέκυάς τε καὶ ἄσπετον εἴσιδεν αἷμα,\nἴθυσέν ῥʼ ὀλολύξαι, ἐπεὶ μέγα εἴσιδεν ἔργον·\nἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατέρυκε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱεμένην περ,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἐν θυμῷ, γρηῦ, χαῖρε καὶ ἴσχεο μηδʼ ὀλόλυζε·\nοὐχ ὁσίη κταμένοισιν ἐπʼ ἀνδράσιν εὐχετάασθαι.\nτούσδε δὲ μοῖρʼ ἐδάμασσε θεῶν καὶ σχέτλια ἔργα·\nοὔ τινα γὰρ τίεσκον ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων,\nοὐ κακὸν οὐδὲ μὲν ἐσθλόν, ὅτις σφέας εἰσαφίκοιτο·\nτῷ καὶ ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐπέσπον.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι σὺ γυναῖκας ἐνὶ μεγάροις κατάλεξον,\nαἵ τέ μʼ ἀτιμάζουσι καὶ αἳ νηλείτιδές εἰσιν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, τέκνον, ἀληθείην καταλέξω.\nπεντήκοντά τοί εἰσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναῖκες\nδμῳαί, τὰς μέν τʼ ἔργα διδάξαμεν ἐργάζεσθαι,\nεἴριά τε ξαίνειν καὶ δουλοσύνην ἀνέχεσθαι·\nτάων δώδεκα πᾶσαι ἀναιδείης ἐπέβησαν,\nοὔτʼ ἐμὲ τίουσαι οὔτʼ αὐτὴν Πηνελόπειαν.\nΤηλέμαχος δὲ νέον μὲν ἀέξετο, οὐδέ ἑ μήτηρ\nσημαίνειν εἴασκεν ἐπὶ δμῳῇσι γυναιξίν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ἐγὼν ἀναβᾶσʼ ὑπερώϊα σιγαλόεντα\nεἴπω σῇ ἀλόχῳ, τῇ τις θεὸς ὕπνον ἐπῶρσε.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς\nμή πω τήνδʼ ἐπέγειρε· σὺ δʼ ἐνθάδε εἰπὲ γυναιξὶν\nἐλθέμεν, αἵ περ πρόσθεν ἀεικέα μηχανόωντο.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει\nἀγγελέουσα γυναιξὶ καὶ ὀτρυνέουσα νέεσθαι.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην\nεἰς ἓ καλεσσάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nἄρχετε νῦν νέκυας φορέειν καὶ ἄνωχθε γυναῖκας·\nαὐτὰρ ἔπειτα θρόνους περικαλλέας ἠδὲ τραπέζας\nὕδατι καὶ σπόγγοισι πολυτρήτοισι καθαίρειν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ πάντα δόμον κατακοσμήσησθε,\nδμῳὰς ἐξαγαγόντες ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο,\nμεσσηγύς τε θόλου καὶ ἀμύμονος ἕρκεος αὐλῆς,\nθεινέμεναι ξίφεσιν τανυήκεσιν, εἰς ὅ κε πασέων\nψυχὰς ἐξαφέλησθε καὶ ἐκλελάθωντʼ Ἀφροδίτης,\nτὴν ἄρʼ ὑπὸ μνηστῆρσιν ἔχον μίσγοντό τε λάθρη.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δὲ γυναῖκες ἀολλέες ἦλθον ἅπασαι,\nαἴνʼ ὀλοφυρόμεναι, θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέουσαι.\nπρῶτα μὲν οὖν νέκυας φόρεον κατατεθνηῶτας,\nκὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ τίθεσαν εὐερκέος αὐλῆς,\nἀλλήλοισιν ἐρείδουσαι· σήμαινε δʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nαὐτὸς ἐπισπέρχων· ταὶ δʼ ἐκφόρεον καὶ ἀνάγκῃ.\nαὐτὰρ ἔπειτα θρόνους περικαλλέας ἠδὲ τραπέζας\nὕδατι καὶ σπόγγοισι πολυτρήτοισι κάθαιρον.\nαὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος καὶ βουκόλος ἠδὲ συβώτης\nλίστροισιν δάπεδον πύκα ποιητοῖο δόμοιο\nξῦον· ταὶ δʼ ἐφόρεον δμῳαί, τίθεσαν δὲ θύραζε.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπειδὴ πᾶν μέγαρον διεκοσμήσαντο,\nδμῳὰς δʼ ἐξαγαγόντες ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο,\nμεσσηγύς τε θόλου καὶ ἀμύμονος ἕρκεος αὐλῆς,\nεἴλεον ἐν στείνει, ὅθεν οὔ πως ἦεν ἀλύξαι.\nτοῖσι δὲ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἦρχʼ ἀγορεύειν·\nμὴ μὲν δὴ καθαρῷ θανάτῳ ἀπὸ θυμὸν ἑλοίμην\nτάων, αἳ δὴ ἐμῇ κεφαλῇ κατʼ ὀνείδεα χεῦαν\nμητέρι θʼ ἡμετέρῃ παρά τε μνηστῆρσιν ἴαυον.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, καὶ πεῖσμα νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο\nκίονος ἐξάψας μεγάλης περίβαλλε θόλοιο,\nὑψόσʼ ἐπεντανύσας, μή τις ποσὶν οὖδας ἵκοιτο.\nὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἢ κίχλαι τανυσίπτεροι ἠὲ πέλειαι\nἕρκει ἐνιπλήξωσι, τό θʼ ἑστήκῃ ἐνὶ θάμνῳ,\nαὖλιν ἐσιέμεναι, στυγερὸς δʼ ὑπεδέξατο κοῖτος,\nὣς αἵ γʼ ἑξείης κεφαλὰς ἔχον, ἀμφὶ δὲ πάσαις\nδειρῇσι βρόχοι ἦσαν, ὅπως οἴκτιστα θάνοιεν.\nἤσπαιρον δὲ πόδεσσι μίνυνθά περ οὔ τι μάλα δήν.\nἐκ δὲ Μελάνθιον ἦγον ἀνὰ πρόθυρόν τε καὶ αὐλήν·\nτοῦ δʼ ἀπὸ μὲν ῥῖνάς τε καὶ οὔατα νηλέϊ χαλκῷ\nτάμνον, μήδεά τʼ ἐξέρυσαν, κυσὶν ὠμὰ δάσασθαι,\nχεῖράς τʼ ἠδὲ πόδας κόπτον κεκοτηότι θυμῷ.\nοἱ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀπονιψάμενοι χεῖράς τε πόδας τε\nεἰς Ὀδυσῆα δόμονδε κίον, τετέλεστο δὲ ἔργον·\nαὐτὰρ ὅ γε προσέειπε φίλην τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν·\nοἶσε θέειον, γρηΰ, κακῶν ἄκος, οἶσε δέ μοι πῦρ,\nὄφρα θεειώσω μέγαρον· σὺ δὲ Πηνελόπειαν\nἐλθεῖν ἐνθάδʼ ἄνωχθι σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξί·\nπάσας δʼ ὄτρυνον δμῳὰς κατὰ δῶμα νέεσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·\nναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε, τέκνον ἐμόν, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε τοι χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἐνείκω,\nμηδʼ οὕτω ῥάκεσιν πεπυκασμένος εὐρέας ὤμους\nἕσταθʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι· νεμεσσητὸν δέ κεν εἴη.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nπῦρ νῦν μοι πρώτιστον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γενέσθω.\nὣς ἔφατʼ, οὐδʼ ἀπίθησε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια,\nἤνεικεν δʼ ἄρα πῦρ καὶ θήϊον· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nεὖ διεθείωσεν μέγαρον καὶ δῶμα καὶ αὐλήν.\nγρηῢς δʼ αὖτʼ ἀπέβη διὰ δώματα κάλʼ Ὀδυσῆος\nἀγγελέουσα γυναιξὶ καὶ ὀτρυνέουσα νέεσθαι·\nαἱ δʼ ἴσαν ἐκ μεγάροιο δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσαι.\nαἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἀμφεχέοντο καὶ ἠσπάζοντʼ Ὀδυσῆα,\nκαὶ κύνεον ἀγαπαζόμεναι κεφαλήν τε καὶ ὤμους\nχεῖράς τʼ αἰνύμεναι· τὸν δὲ γλυκὺς ἵμερος ᾕρει\nκλαυθμοῦ καὶ στοναχῆς, γίγνωσκε δʼ ἄρα φρεσὶ πάσας.\n\n### Book 23\n\nγρηῢς δʼ εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀνεβήσετο καγχαλόωσα,\nδεσποίνῃ ἐρέουσα φίλον πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα·\nγούνατα δʼ ἐρρώσαντο, πόδες δʼ ὑπερικταίνοντο.\nστῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·\nἔγρεο, Πηνελόπεια, φίλον τέκος, ὄφρα ἴδηαι\nὀφθαλμοῖσι τεοῖσι τά τʼ ἔλδεαι ἤματα πάντα.\nἦλθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὀψέ περ ἐλθών.\nμνηστῆρας δʼ ἔκτεινεν ἀγήνορας, οἵ θʼ ἑὸν οἶκον\nκήδεσκον καὶ κτήματʼ ἔδον βιόωντό τε παῖδα.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nμαῖα φίλη, μάργην σε θεοὶ θέσαν, οἵ τε δύνανται\nἄφρονα ποιῆσαι καὶ ἐπίφρονά περ μάλʼ ἐόντα,\nκαί τε χαλιφρονέοντα σαοφροσύνης ἐπέβησαν·\nοἵ σέ περ ἔβλαψαν· πρὶν δὲ φρένας αἰσίμη ἦσθα.\nτίπτε με λωβεύεις πολυπενθέα θυμὸν ἔχουσαν\nταῦτα παρὲξ ἐρέουσα καὶ ἐξ ὕπνου μʼ ἀνεγείρεις\nἡδέος, ὅς μʼ ἐπέδησε φίλα βλέφαρʼ ἀμφικαλύψας;\nοὐ γάρ πω τοιόνδε κατέδραθον, ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nᾤχετʼ ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν κατάβηθι καὶ ἂψ ἔρχευ μέγαρόνδε.\nεἰ γάρ τίς μʼ ἄλλη γε γυναικῶν, αἵ μοι ἔασι,\nταῦτʼ ἐλθοῦσʼ ἤγγειλε καὶ ἐξ ὕπνου ἀνέγειρεν,\nτῷ κε τάχα στυγερῶς μιν ἐγὼν ἀπέπεμψα νέεσθαι\nαὖτις ἔσω μέγαρον· σὲ δὲ τοῦτό γε γῆρας ὀνήσει.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·\nοὔ τί σε λωβεύω, τέκνον φίλον, ἀλλʼ ἔτυμόν τοι\nἦλθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὡς ἀγορεύω,\nὁ ξεῖνος, τὸν πάντες ἀτίμων ἐν μεγάροισι.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἄρα μιν πάλαι ᾔδεεν ἔνδον ἐόντα,\nἀλλὰ σαοφροσύνῃσι νοήματα πατρὸς ἔκευθεν,\nὄφρʼ ἀνδρῶν τίσαιτο βίην ὑπερηνορεόντων.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡ δʼ ἐχάρη καὶ ἀπὸ λέκτροιο θοροῦσα\nγρηῒ περιπλέχθη, βλεφάρων δʼ ἀπὸ δάκρυον ἧκεν·\nκαί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nεἰ δʼ ἄγε δή μοι, μαῖα φίλη, νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες,\nεἰ ἐτεὸν δὴ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,\nὅππως δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφῆκε\nμοῦνος ἐών, οἱ δʼ αἰὲν ἀολλέες ἔνδον ἔμιμνον.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·\nοὐκ ἴδον, οὐ πυθόμην, ἀλλὰ στόνον οἶον ἄκουσα\nκτεινομένων· ἡμεῖς δὲ μυχῷ θαλάμων εὐπήκτων\nἥμεθʼ ἀτυζόμεναι, σανίδες δʼ ἔχον εὖ ἀραρυῖαι,\nπρίν γʼ ὅτε δή με σὸς υἱὸς ἀπὸ μεγάροιο κάλεσσε\nΤηλέμαχος· τὸν γάρ ῥα πατὴρ προέηκε καλέσσαι.\nεὗρον ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ κταμένοισι νέκυσσιν\nἑσταόθʼ· οἱ δέ μιν ἀμφί, κραταίπεδον οὖδας ἔχοντες,\nκείατʼ ἐπʼ ἀλλήλοισιν· ἰδοῦσά κε θυμὸν ἰάνθης.\nνῦν δʼ οἱ μὲν δὴ πάντες ἐπʼ αὐλείῃσι θύρῃσιν\nἀθρόοι, αὐτὰρ ὁ δῶμα θεειοῦται περικαλλές,\nπῦρ μέγα κηάμενος· σὲ δέ με προέηκε καλέσσαι.\nἀλλʼ ἕπευ, ὄφρα σφῶϊν ἐϋφροσύνης ἐπιβῆτον\nἀμφοτέρω φίλον ἦτορ, ἐπεὶ κακὰ πολλὰ πέποσθε.\nνῦν δʼ ἤδη τόδε μακρὸν ἐέλδωρ ἐκτετέλεσται·\nἦλθε μὲν αὐτὸς ζωὸς ἐφέστιος, εὗρε δὲ καὶ σὲ\nκαὶ παῖδʼ ἐν μεγάροισι· κακῶς δʼ οἵ πέρ μιν ἔρεζον\nμνηστῆρες, τοὺς πάντας ἐτίσατο ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.\nτὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nμαῖα φίλη, μή πω μέγʼ ἐπεύχεο καγχαλόωσα.\nοἶσθα γὰρ ὥς κʼ ἀσπαστὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισι φανείη\nπᾶσι, μάλιστα δʼ ἐμοί τε καὶ υἱέϊ, τὸν τεκόμεσθα·\nἀλλʼ οὐκ ἔσθʼ ὅδε μῦθος ἐτήτυμος, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,\nἀλλά τις ἀθανάτων κτεῖνε μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,\nὕβριν ἀγασσάμενος θυμαλγέα καὶ κακὰ ἔργα.\nοὔ τινα γὰρ τίεσκον ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων,\nοὐ κακὸν οὐδὲ μὲν ἐσθλόν, ὅτις σφέας εἰσαφίκοιτο·\nτῷ διʼ ἀτασθαλίας ἔπαθον κακόν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nὤλεσε τηλοῦ νόστον Ἀχαιΐδος, ὤλετο δʼ αὐτός.\nτὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·\nτέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων,\nἣ πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα παρʼ ἐσχάρῃ οὔ ποτʼ ἔφησθα\nοἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· θυμὸς δέ τοι αἰὲν ἄπιστος.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε τοι καὶ σῆμα ἀριφραδὲς ἄλλο τι εἴπω,\nοὐλήν, τήν ποτέ μιν σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι.\nτὴν ἀπονίζουσα φρασάμην, ἔθελον δὲ σοὶ αὐτῇ\nεἰπέμεν· ἀλλά με κεῖνος ἑλὼν ἐπὶ μάστακα χερσὶν\nοὐκ ἔα εἰπέμεναι πολυϊδρείῃσι νόοιο.\nἀλλʼ ἕπευ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐμέθεν περιδώσομαι αὐτῆς,\nαἴ κέν σʼ ἐξαπάφω, κτεῖναί μʼ οἰκτίστῳ ὀλέθρῳ.\nτὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nμαῖα φίλη, χαλεπόν σε θεῶν αἰειγενετάων\nδήνεα εἴρυσθαι, μάλα περ πολύϊδριν ἐοῦσαν.\nἀλλʼ ἔμπης ἴομεν μετὰ παῖδʼ ἐμόν, ὄφρα ἴδωμαι\nἄνδρας μνηστῆρας τεθνηότας, ἠδʼ ὃς ἔπεφνεν.\nὣς φαμένη κατέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα· πολλὰ δέ οἱ κῆρ\nὥρμαινʼ, ἢ ἀπάνευθε φίλον πόσιν ἐξερεείνοι,\nἦ παρστᾶσα κύσειε κάρη καὶ χεῖρε λαβοῦσα.\nἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ εἰσῆλθεν καὶ ὑπέρβη λάϊνον οὐδόν,\nἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐναντίη, ἐν πυρὸς αὐγῇ,\nτοίχου τοῦ ἑτέρου· ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρὸς κίονα μακρὴν\nἧστο κάτω ὁρόων, ποτιδέγμενος εἴ τί μιν εἴποι\nἰφθίμη παράκοιτις, ἐπεὶ ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν.\nἡ δʼ ἄνεω δὴν ἧστο, τάφος δέ οἱ ἦτορ ἵκανεν·\nὄψει δʼ ἄλλοτε μέν μιν ἐνωπαδίως ἐσίδεσκεν,\nἄλλοτε δʼ ἀγνώσασκε κακὰ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα.\nΤηλέμαχος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·\nμῆτερ ἐμή, δύσμητερ, ἀπηνέα θυμὸν ἔχουσα,\nτίφθʼ οὕτω πατρὸς νοσφίζεαι, οὐδὲ παρʼ αὐτὸν\nἑζομένη μύθοισιν ἀνείρεαι οὐδὲ μεταλλᾷς;\nοὐ μέν κʼ ἄλλη γʼ ὧδε γυνὴ τετληότι θυμῷ\nἀνδρὸς ἀφεσταίη, ὅς οἱ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας\nἔλθοι ἐεικοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·\nσοὶ δʼ αἰεὶ κραδίη στερεωτέρη ἐστὶ λίθοιο.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nτέκνον ἐμόν, θυμός μοι ἐνὶ στήθεσσι τέθηπεν,\nοὐδέ τι προσφάσθαι δύναμαι ἔπος οὐδʼ ἐρέεσθαι\nοὐδʼ εἰς ὦπα ἰδέσθαι ἐναντίον. εἰ δʼ ἐτεὸν δὴ\nἔστʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ἦ μάλα νῶϊ\nγνωσόμεθʼ ἀλλήλων καὶ λώϊον· ἔστι γὰρ ἡμῖν\nσήμαθʼ, ἃ δὴ καὶ νῶϊ κεκρυμμένα ἴδμεν ἀπʼ ἄλλων.\nὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nαἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι μητέρʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔασον\nπειράζειν ἐμέθεν· τάχα δὲ φράσεται καὶ ἄρειον.\nνῦν δʼ ὅττι ῥυπόω, κακὰ δὲ χροῒ εἵματα εἷμαι,\nτοὔνεκʼ ἀτιμάζει με καὶ οὔ πω φησὶ τὸν εἶναι.\nἡμεῖς δὲ φραζώμεθʼ ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένηται.\nκαὶ γάρ τίς θʼ ἕνα φῶτα κατακτείνας ἐνὶ δήμῳ,\nᾧ μὴ πολλοὶ ἔωσιν ἀοσσητῆρες ὀπίσσω,\nφεύγει πηούς τε προλιπὼν καὶ πατρίδα γαῖαν·\nἡμεῖς δʼ ἕρμα πόληος ἀπέκταμεν, οἳ μέγʼ ἄριστοι\nκούρων εἰν Ἰθάκῃ· τὰ δέ σε φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nαὐτὸς ταῦτά γε λεῦσσε, πάτερ φίλε· σὴν γὰρ ἀρίστην\nμῆτιν ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους φάσʼ ἔμμεναι, οὐδέ κέ τίς τοι\nἄλλος ἀνὴρ ἐρίσειε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων.\nἡμεῖς δʼ ἐμμεμαῶτες ἅμʼ ἑψόμεθʼ, οὐδέ τί φημι\nἀλκῆς δευήσεσθαι, ὅση δύναμίς γε πάρεστιν.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς\nτοιγὰρ ἐγὼν ἐρέω ὥς μοι δοκεῖ εἶναι ἄριστα.\nπρῶτα μὲν ἂρ λούσασθε καὶ ἀμφιέσασθε χιτῶνας,\nδμῳὰς δʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀνώγετε εἵμαθʼ ἑλέσθαι·\nαὐτὰρ θεῖος ἀοιδὸς ἔχων φόρμιγγα λίγειαν\nἡμῖν ἡγείσθω φιλοπαίγμονος ὀρχηθμοῖο,\nὥς κέν τις φαίη γάμον ἔμμεναι ἐκτὸς ἀκούων,\nἢ ἀνʼ ὁδὸν στείχων, ἢ οἳ περιναιετάουσι·\nμὴ πρόσθε κλέος εὐρὺ φόνου κατὰ ἄστυ γένηται\nἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, πρίν γʼ ἡμέας ἐλθέμεν ἔξω\nἀγρὸν ἐς ἡμέτερον πολυδένδρεον· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα\nφρασσόμεθʼ ὅττι κε κέρδος Ὀλύμπιος ἐγγυαλίξῃ.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο\nπρῶτα μὲν οὖν λούσαντο καὶ ἀμφιέσαντο χιτῶνας,\nὅπλισθεν δὲ γυναῖκες· ὁ δʼ εἵλετο θεῖος ἀοιδὸς\nφόρμιγγα γλαφυρήν, ἐν δέ σφισιν ἵμερον ὦρσε\nμολπῆς τε γλυκερῆς καὶ ἀμύμονος ὀρχηθμοῖο.\nτοῖσιν δὲ μέγα δῶμα περιστεναχίζετο ποσσὶν\nἀνδρῶν παιζόντων καλλιζώνων τε γυναικῶν.\nὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε δόμων ἔκτοσθεν ἀκούων·\nἦ μάλα δή τις ἔγημε πολυμνήστην βασίλειαν·\nσχετλίη, οὐδʼ ἔτλη πόσιος οὗ κουριδίοιο\nεἴρυσθαι μέγα δῶμα διαμπερές, ἧος ἵκοιτο.\nὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε, τὰ δʼ οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.\nαὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆα μεγαλήτορα ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nΕὐρυνόμη ταμίη λοῦσεν καὶ χρῖσεν ἐλαίῳ,\nἀμφὶ δέ μιν φᾶρος καλὸν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα·\nαὐτὰρ κὰκ κεφαλῆς κάλλος πολὺ χεῦεν Ἀθήνη\nμείζονά τʼ εἰσιδέειν καὶ πάσσονα· κὰδ δὲ κάρητος\nοὔλας ἧκε κόμας, ὑακινθίνῳ ἄνθει ὁμοίας.\nὡς δʼ ὅτε τις χρυσὸν περιχεύεται ἀργύρῳ ἀνὴρ\nἴδρις, ὃν Ἥφαιστος δέδαεν καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη\nτέχνην παντοίην, χαρίεντα δὲ ἔργα τελείει·\nὣς μὲν τῷ περίχευε χάριν κεφαλῇ τε καὶ ὤμοις.\nἐκ δʼ ἀσαμίνθου βῆ δέμας ἀθανάτοισιν ὁμοῖος·\nἂψ δʼ αὖτις κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη,\nἀντίον ἧς ἀλόχου, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·\nδαιμονίη, περί σοί γε γυναικῶν θηλυτεράων\nκῆρ ἀτέραμνον ἔθηκαν Ὀλύμπια δώματʼ ἔχοντες·\nοὐ μέν κʼ ἄλλη γʼ ὧδε γυνὴ τετληότι θυμῷ\nἀνδρὸς ἀφεσταίη, ὅς οἱ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας\nἔλθοι ἐεικοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι, μαῖα, στόρεσον λέχος, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτὸς\nλέξομαι· ἦ γὰρ τῇ γε σιδήρεον ἐν φρεσὶ ἦτορ.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nδαιμόνιʼ, οὔτʼ ἄρ τι μεγαλίζομαι οὔτʼ ἀθερίζω\nοὔτε λίην ἄγαμαι, μάλα δʼ εὖ οἶδʼ οἷος ἔησθα\nἐξ Ἰθάκης ἐπὶ νηὸς ἰὼν δολιχηρέτμοιο.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ στόρεσον πυκινὸν λέχος, Εὐρύκλεια,\nἐκτὸς ἐϋσταθέος θαλάμου, τόν ῥʼ αὐτὸς ἐποίει·\nἔνθα οἱ ἐκθεῖσαι πυκινὸν λέχος ἐμβάλετʼ εὐνήν,\nκώεα καὶ χλαίνας καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα.\nὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη πόσιος πειρωμένη· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nὀχθήσας ἄλοχον προσεφώνεε κεδνὰ ἰδυῖαν·\nὦ γύναι, ἦ μάλα τοῦτο ἔπος θυμαλγὲς ἔειπες·\nτίς δέ μοι ἄλλοσε θῆκε λέχος; χαλεπὸν δέ κεν εἴη\nκαὶ μάλʼ ἐπισταμένῳ, ὅτε μὴ θεὸς αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν\nῥηϊδίως ἐθέλων θείη ἄλλῃ ἐνὶ χώρῃ.\nἀνδρῶν δʼ οὔ κέν τις ζωὸς βροτός, οὐδὲ μάλʼ ἡβῶν,\nῥεῖα μετοχλίσσειεν, ἐπεὶ μέγα σῆμα τέτυκται\nἐν λέχει ἀσκητῷ· τὸ δʼ ἐγὼ κάμον οὐδέ τις ἄλλος.\nθάμνος ἔφυ τανύφυλλος ἐλαίης ἕρκεος ἐντός,\nἀκμηνὸς θαλέθων· πάχετος δʼ ἦν ἠΰτε κίων.\nτῷ δʼ ἐγὼ ἀμφιβαλὼν θάλαμον δέμον, ὄφρʼ ἐτέλεσσα,\nπυκνῇσιν λιθάδεσσι, καὶ εὖ καθύπερθεν ἔρεψα,\nκολλητὰς δʼ ἐπέθηκα θύρας, πυκινῶς ἀραρυίας.\nκαὶ τότʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπέκοψα κόμην τανυφύλλου ἐλαίης,\nκορμὸν δʼ ἐκ ῥίζης προταμὼν ἀμφέξεσα χαλκῷ\nεὖ καὶ ἐπισταμένως, καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνα,\nἑρμῖνʼ ἀσκήσας, τέτρηνα δὲ πάντα τερέτρῳ.\nἐκ δὲ τοῦ ἀρχόμενος λέχος ἔξεον, ὄφρʼ ἐτέλεσσα,\nδαιδάλλων χρυσῷ τε καὶ ἀργύρῳ ἠδʼ ἐλέφαντι·\nἐκ δʼ ἐτάνυσσα ἱμάντα βοὸς φοίνικι φαεινόν.\nοὕτω τοι τόδε σῆμα πιφαύσκομαι· οὐδέ τι οἶδα,\nἤ μοι ἔτʼ ἔμπεδόν ἐστι, γύναι, λέχος, ἦέ τις ἤδη\nἀνδρῶν ἄλλοσε θῆκε, ταμὼν ὕπο πυθμένʼ ἐλαίης.\nὣς φάτο, τῆς δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,\nσήματʼ ἀναγνούσῃ τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς·\nδακρύσασα δʼ ἔπειτʼ ἰθὺς δράμεν, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας\nδειρῇ βάλλʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ, κάρη δʼ ἔκυσʼ ἠδὲ προσηύδα·\nμή μοι, Ὀδυσσεῦ, σκύζευ, ἐπεὶ τά περ ἄλλα μάλιστα\nἀνθρώπων πέπνυσο· θεοὶ δʼ ὤπαζον ὀϊζύν,\nοἳ νῶϊν ἀγάσαντο παρʼ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντε\nἥβης ταρπῆναι καὶ γήραος οὐδὸν ἱκέσθαι.\nαὐτὰρ μὴ νῦν μοι τόδε χώεο μηδὲ νεμέσσα,\nοὕνεκά σʼ οὐ τὸ πρῶτον, ἐπεὶ ἴδον, ὧδʼ ἀγάπησα.\nαἰεὶ γάρ μοι θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισιν\nἐρρίγει μή τίς με βροτῶν ἀπάφοιτο ἔπεσσιν\nἐλθών· πολλοὶ γὰρ κακὰ κέρδεα βουλεύουσιν.\nοὐδέ κεν Ἀργείη Ἑλένη, Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα,\nἀνδρὶ παρʼ ἀλλοδαπῷ ἐμίγη φιλότητι καὶ εὐνῇ,\nεἰ ᾔδη ὅ μιν αὖτις ἀρήϊοι υἷες Ἀχαιῶν\nἀξέμεναι οἶκόνδε φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔμελλον.\nτὴν δʼ ἦ τοι ῥέξαι θεὸς ὤρορεν ἔργον ἀεικές·\nτὴν δʼ ἄτην οὐ πρόσθεν ἑῷ ἐγκάτθετο θυμῷ\nλυγρήν, ἐξ ἧς πρῶτα καὶ ἡμέας ἵκετο πένθος.\nνῦν δʼ, ἐπεὶ ἤδη σήματʼ ἀριφραδέα κατέλεξας\nεὐνῆς ἡμετέρης, ἣν οὐ βροτὸς ἄλλος ὀπώπει,\nἀλλʼ οἶοι σύ τʼ ἐγώ τε καὶ ἀμφίπολος μία μούνη,\nἈκτορίς, ἥν μοι δῶκε πατὴρ ἔτι δεῦρο κιούσῃ,\nἣ νῶϊν εἴρυτο θύρας πυκινοῦ θαλάμοιο,\nπείθεις δή μευ θυμόν, ἀπηνέα περ μάλʼ ἐόντα.\nὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο·\nκλαῖε δʼ ἔχων ἄλοχον θυμαρέα, κεδνὰ ἰδυῖαν.\nὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἀσπάσιος γῆ νηχομένοισι φανήῃ,\nὧν τε Ποσειδάων εὐεργέα νῆʼ ἐνὶ πόντῳ\nῥαίσῃ, ἐπειγομένην ἀνέμῳ καὶ κύματι πηγῷ·\nπαῦροι δʼ ἐξέφυγον πολιῆς ἁλὸς ἤπειρόνδε\nνηχόμενοι, πολλὴ δὲ περὶ χροῒ τέτροφεν ἅλμη,\nἀσπάσιοι δʼ ἐπέβαν γαίης, κακότητα φυγόντες·\nὣς ἄρα τῇ ἀσπαστὸς ἔην πόσις εἰσοροώσῃ,\nδειρῆς δʼ οὔ πω πάμπαν ἀφίετο πήχεε λευκώ.\nκαί νύ κʼ ὀδυρομένοισι φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,\nεἰ μὴ ἄρʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.\nνύκτα μὲν ἐν περάτῃ δολιχὴν σχέθεν, Ἠῶ δʼ αὖτε\nῥύσατʼ ἐπʼ Ὠκεανῷ χρυσόθρονον, οὐδʼ ἔα ἵππους\nζεύγνυσθʼ ὠκύποδας, φάος ἀνθρώποισι φέροντας,\nΛάμπον καὶ Φαέθονθʼ, οἵ τʼ Ἠῶ πῶλοι ἄγουσι.\nκαὶ τότʼ ἄρʼ ἣν ἄλοχον προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς\nὦ γύναι, οὐ γάρ πω πάντων ἐπὶ πείρατʼ ἀέθλων\nἤλθομεν, ἀλλʼ ἔτʼ ὄπισθεν ἀμέτρητος πόνος ἔσται,\nπολλὸς καὶ χαλεπός, τὸν ἐμὲ χρὴ πάντα τελέσσαι.\nὣς γάρ μοι ψυχὴ μαντεύσατο Τειρεσίαο\nἤματι τῷ ὅτε δὴ κατέβην δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω,\nνόστον ἑταίροισιν διζήμενος ἠδʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ.\nἀλλʼ ἔρχευ, λέκτρονδʼ ἴομεν, γύναι, ὄφρα καὶ ἤδη\nὕπνῳ ὕπο γλυκερῷ ταρπώμεθα κοιμηθέντε.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nεὐνὴ μὲν δή σοί γε τότʼ ἔσσεται ὁππότε θυμῷ\nσῷ ἐθέλῃς, ἐπεὶ ἄρ σε θεοὶ ποίησαν ἱκέσθαι\nοἶκον ἐϋκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·\nἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ ἐφράσθης καί τοι θεὸς ἔμβαλε θυμῷ,\nεἴπʼ ἄγε μοι τὸν ἄεθλον, ἐπεὶ καὶ ὄπισθεν, ὀΐω,\nπεύσομαι, αὐτίκα δʼ ἐστὶ δαήμεναι οὔ τι χέρειον.\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nδαιμονίη, τί τʼ ἄρʼ αὖ με μάλʼ ὀτρύνουσα κελεύεις\nεἰπέμεν; αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω.\nοὐ μέν τοι θυμὸς κεχαρήσεται· οὐδὲ γὰρ αὐτὸς\nχαίρω, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστεʼ ἄνωγεν\nἐλθεῖν, ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔχοντʼ εὐῆρες ἐρετμόν,\nεἰς ὅ κε τοὺς ἀφίκωμαι οἳ οὐκ ἴσασι θάλασσαν\nἀνέρες, οὐδέ θʼ ἅλεσσι μεμιγμένον εἶδαρ ἔδουσιν·\nοὐδʼ ἄρα τοί γʼ ἴσασι νέας φοινικοπαρῄους,\nοὐδʼ εὐήρεʼ ἐρετμά, τά τε πτερὰ νηυσὶ πέλονται.\nσῆμα δέ μοι τόδʼ ἔειπεν ἀριφραδές, οὐδέ σε κεύσω·\nὁππότε κεν δή μοι ξυμβλήμενος ἄλλος ὁδίτης\nφήῃ ἀθηρηλοιγὸν ἔχειν ἀνὰ φαιδίμῳ ὤμῳ,\nκαὶ τότε μʼ ἐν γαίῃ πήξαντʼ ἐκέλευεν ἐρετμόν,\nἔρξανθʼ ἱερὰ καλὰ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι,\nἀρνειὸν ταῦρόν τε συῶν τʼ ἐπιβήτορα κάπρον,\nοἴκαδʼ ἀποστείχειν, ἔρδειν θʼ ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας\nἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι,\nπᾶσι μάλʼ ἑξείης· θάνατος δέ μοι ἐξ ἁλὸς αὐτῷ\nἀβληχρὸς μάλα τοῖος ἐλεύσεται, ὅς κέ με πέφνῃ\nγήρα’ ὕπο λιπαρῷ ἀρημένον· ἀμφὶ δὲ λαοὶ\nὄλβιοι ἔσσονται· τὰ δέ μοι φάτο πάντα τελεῖσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·\nεἰ μὲν δὴ γῆράς γε θεοὶ τελέουσιν ἄρειον,\nἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα κακῶν ὑπάλυξιν ἔσεσθαι.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·\nτόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ Εὐρυνόμη τε ἰδὲ τροφὸς ἔντυον εὐνὴν\nἐσθῆτος μαλακῆς, δαΐδων ὕπο λαμπομενάων.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ στόρεσαν πυκινὸν λέχος ἐγκονέουσαι,\nγρηῢς μὲν κείουσα πάλιν οἶκόνδε βεβήκει,\nτοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρυνόμη θαλαμηπόλος ἡγεμόνευεν\nἐρχομένοισι λέχοσδε, δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσα·\nἐς θάλαμον δʼ ἀγαγοῦσα πάλιν κίεν. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα\nἀσπάσιοι λέκτροιο παλαιοῦ θεσμὸν ἵκοντο·\nαὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος καὶ βουκόλος ἠδὲ συβώτης\nπαῦσαν ἄρʼ ὀρχηθμοῖο πόδας, παῦσαν δὲ γυναῖκας,\nαὐτοὶ δʼ εὐνάζοντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.\nτὼ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν φιλότητος ἐταρπήτην ἐρατεινῆς,\nτερπέσθην μύθοισι, πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐνέποντε,\nἡ μὲν ὅσʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀνέσχετο δῖα γυναικῶν,\nἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων ἐσορῶσʼ ἀΐδηλον ὅμιλον,\nοἳ ἕθεν εἵνεκα πολλά, βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,\nἔσφαζον, πολλὸς δὲ πίθων ἠφύσσετο οἶνος·\nαὐτὰρ ὁ διογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς ὅσα κήδεʼ ἔθηκεν\nἀνθρώποις ὅσα τʼ αὐτὸς ὀϊζύσας ἐμόγησε,\nπάντʼ ἔλεγʼ· ἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐτέρπετʼ ἀκούουσʼ, οὐδέ οἱ ὕπνος\nπῖπτεν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι πάρος καταλέξαι ἅπαντα.\nἤρξατο δʼ ὡς πρῶτον Κίκονας δάμασʼ, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα\nἦλθʼ ἐς Λωτοφάγων ἀνδρῶν πίειραν ἄρουραν·\nἠδʼ ὅσα Κύκλωψ ἔρξε, καὶ ὡς ἀπετίσατο ποινὴν\nἰφθίμων ἑτάρων, οὓς ἤσθιεν οὐδʼ ἐλέαιρεν·\nἠδʼ ὡς Αἴολον ἵκεθʼ, ὅ μιν πρόφρων ὑπέδεκτο\nκαὶ πέμπʼ, οὐδέ πω αἶσα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἱκέσθαι\nἤην, ἀλλά μιν αὖτις ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα\nπόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα φέρεν βαρέα στενάχοντα·\nἠδʼ ὡς Τηλέπυλον Λαιστρυγονίην ἀφίκανεν,\nοἳ νῆάς τʼ ὄλεσαν καὶ ἐϋκνήμιδας ἑταίρους\nπάντας· Ὀδυσσεὺς δʼ οἶος ὑπέκφυγε νηῒ μελαίνῃ·\nκαὶ Κίρκης κατέλεξε δόλον πολυμηχανίην τε,\nἠδʼ ὡς εἰς Ἀΐδεω δόμον ἤλυθεν εὐρώεντα,\nψυχῇ χρησόμενος Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο,\nνηῒ πολυκλήϊδι, καὶ εἴσιδε πάντας ἑταίρους\nμητέρα θʼ, ἥ μιν ἔτικτε καὶ ἔτρεφε τυτθὸν ἐόντα·\nἠδʼ ὡς Σειρήνων ἁδινάων φθόγγον ἄκουσεν,\nὥς θʼ ἵκετο Πλαγκτὰς πέτρας δεινήν τε Χάρυβδιν\nΣκύλλην θʼ, ἣν οὔ πώ ποτʼ ἀκήριοι ἄνδρες ἄλυξαν·\nἠδʼ ὡς Ἠελίοιο βόας κατέπεφνον ἑταῖροι·\nἠδʼ ὡς νῆα θοὴν ἔβαλε ψολόεντι κεραυνῷ\nΖεὺς ὑψιβρεμέτης, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔφθιθεν ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι\nπάντες ὁμῶς, αὐτὸς δὲ κακὰς ὑπὸ κῆρας ἄλυξεν·\nὥς θʼ ἵκετʼ Ὠγυγίην νῆσον νύμφην τε Καλυψώ,\nἣ δή μιν κατέρυκε, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι,\nἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, καὶ ἔτρεφεν ἠδὲ ἔφασκε\nθήσειν ἀθάνατον καὶ ἀγήραον ἤματα πάντα·\nἀλλὰ τοῦ οὔ ποτε θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔπειθεν·\nἠδʼ ὡς ἐς Φαίηκας ἀφίκετο πολλὰ μογήσας,\nοἳ δή μιν περὶ κῆρι θεὸν ὣς τιμήσαντο\nκαὶ πέμψαν σὺν νηῒ φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nχαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά τε δόντες.\nτοῦτʼ ἄρα δεύτατον εἶπεν ἔπος, ὅτε οἱ γλυκὺς ὕπνος\nλυσιμελὴς ἐπόρουσε, λύων μελεδήματα θυμοῦ.\nἡ δʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nὁππότε δή ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐέλπετο ὃν κατὰ θυμὸν\nεὐνῆς ἧς ἀλόχου ταρπήμεναι ἠδὲ καὶ ὕπνου,\nαὐτίκʼ ἀπʼ Ὠκεανοῦ χρυσόθρονον ἠριγένειαν\nὦρσεν, ἵνʼ ἀνθρώποισι φόως φέροι· ὦρτο δʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nεὐνῆς ἐκ μαλακῆς, ἀλόχῳ δʼ ἐπὶ μῦθον ἔτελλεν·\nὦ γύναι, ἤδη μὲν πολέων κεκορήμεθʼ ἀέθλων\nἀμφοτέρω, σὺ μὲν ἐνθάδʼ ἐμὸν πολυκηδέα νόστον\nκλαίουσʼ. αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ Ζεὺς ἄλγεσι καὶ θεοὶ ἄλλοι\nἱέμενον πεδάασκον ἐμῆς ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης·\nνῦν δʼ ἐπεὶ ἀμφοτέρω πολυήρατον ἱκόμεθʼ εὐνήν,\nκτήματα μὲν τά μοι ἔστι, κομιζέμεν ἐν μεγάροισι,\nμῆλα δʼ ἅ μοι μνηστῆρες ὑπερφίαλοι κατέκειραν,\nπολλὰ μὲν αὐτὸς ἐγὼ ληΐσσομαι, ἄλλα δʼ Ἀχαιοὶ\nδώσουσʼ, εἰς ὅ κε πάντας ἐνιπλήσωσιν ἐπαύλους.\nἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ πολυδένδρεον ἀγρὸν ἔπειμι,\nὀψόμενος πατέρʼ ἐσθλόν, ὅ μοι πυκινῶς ἀκάχηται·\nσοὶ δέ, γύναι, τάδʼ ἐπιτέλλω, πινυτῇ περ ἐούσῃ·\nαὐτίκα γὰρ φάτις εἶσιν ἅμʼ ἠελίῳ ἀνιόντι\nἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οὓς ἔκτανον ἐν μεγάροισιν·\nεἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν\nἧσθαι, μηδέ τινα προτιόσσεο μηδʼ ἐρέεινε.\nἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἐδύσετο τεύχεα καλά,\nὦρσε δὲ Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην,\nπάντας δʼ ἔντεʼ ἄνωγεν ἀρήϊα χερσὶν ἑλέσθαι.\nοἱ δέ οἱ οὐκ ἀπίθησαν, ἐθωρήσσοντο δὲ χαλκῷ,\nὤϊξαν δὲ θύρας, ἐκ δʼ ἤϊον· ἦρχε δʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.\nἤδη μὲν φάος ἦεν ἐπὶ χθόνα, τοὺς δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀθήνη\nνυκτὶ κατακρύψασα θοῶς ἐξῆγε πόληος.\n\n### Book 24\n\nἙρμῆς δὲ ψυχὰς Κυλλήνιος ἐξεκαλεῖτο\nἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων· ἔχε δὲ ῥάβδον μετὰ χερσὶν\nκαλὴν χρυσείην, τῇ τʼ ἀνδρῶν ὄμματα θέλγει\nὧν ἐθέλει, τοὺς δʼ αὖτε καὶ ὑπνώοντας ἐγείρει·\nτῇ ῥʼ ἄγε κινήσας, ταὶ δὲ τρίζουσαι ἕποντο.\nὡς δʼ ὅτε νυκτερίδες μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο\nτρίζουσαι ποτέονται, ἐπεί κέ τις ἀποπέσῃσιν\nὁρμαθοῦ ἐκ πέτρης, ἀνά τʼ ἀλλήλῃσιν ἔχονται,\nὣς αἱ τετριγυῖαι ἅμʼ ἤϊσαν· ἦρχε δʼ ἄρα σφιν\nἙρμείας ἀκάκητα κατʼ εὐρώεντα κέλευθα.\nπὰρ δʼ ἴσαν Ὠκεανοῦ τε ῥοὰς καὶ Λευκάδα πέτρην,\nἠδὲ παρʼ Ἠελίοιο πύλας καὶ δῆμον ὀνείρων\nἤϊσαν· αἶψα δʼ ἵκοντο κατʼ ἀσφοδελὸν λειμῶνα,\nἔνθα τε ναίουσι ψυχαί, εἴδωλα καμόντων.\nεὗρον δὲ ψυχὴν Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος\nκαὶ Πατροκλῆος καὶ ἀμύμονος Ἀντιλόχοιο\nΑἴαντός θʼ, ὃς ἄριστος ἔην εἶδός τε δέμας τε\nτῶν ἄλλων Δαναῶν μετʼ ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα.\nὣς οἱ μὲν περὶ κεῖνον ὁμίλεον· ἀγχίμολον δὲ\nἤλυθʼ ἔπι ψυχὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο\nἀχνυμένη· περὶ δʼ ἄλλαι ἀγηγέραθʼ, ὅσσαι ἅμʼ αὐτῷ\nοἴκῳ ἐν Αἰγίσθοιο θάνον καὶ πότμον ἐπέσπον.\nτὸν προτέρη ψυχὴ προσεφώνεε Πηλεΐωνος·\nἈτρεΐδη, περὶ μέν σʼ ἔφαμεν Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ\nἀνδρῶν ἡρώων φίλον ἔμμεναι ἤματα πάντα,\nοὕνεκα πολλοῖσίν τε καὶ ἰφθίμοισιν ἄνασσες\nδήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχομεν ἄλγεʼ Ἀχαιοί.\nἦ τʼ ἄρα καὶ σοὶ πρῶϊ παραστήσεσθαι ἔμελλεν\nμοῖρʼ ὀλοή, τὴν οὔ τις ἀλεύεται ὅς κε γένηται.\nὡς ὄφελες τιμῆς ἀπονήμενος, ἧς περ ἄνασσες,\nδήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων θάνατον καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν·\nτῷ κέν τοι τύμβον μὲν ἐποίησαν Παναχαιοί,\nἠδέ κε καὶ σῷ παιδὶ μέγα κλέος ἤραʼ ὀπίσσω·\nνῦν δʼ ἄρα σʼ οἰκτίστῳ θανάτῳ εἵμαρτο ἁλῶναι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀτρείδαο·\nὄλβιε Πηλέος υἱέ, θεοῖς ἐπιείκελʼ Ἀχιλλεῦ,\nὃς θάνες ἐν Τροίῃ ἑκὰς Ἄργεος· ἀμφὶ δέ σʼ ἄλλοι\nκτείνοντο Τρώων καὶ Ἀχαιῶν υἷες ἄριστοι,\nμαρνάμενοι περὶ σεῖο· σὺ δʼ ἐν στροφάλιγγι κονίης\nκεῖσο μέγας μεγαλωστί, λελασμένος ἱπποσυνάων.\nἡμεῖς δὲ πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐμαρνάμεθʼ· οὐδέ κε πάμπαν\nπαυσάμεθα πτολέμου, εἰ μὴ Ζεὺς λαίλαπι παῦσεν.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί σʼ ἐπὶ νῆας ἐνείκαμεν ἐκ πολέμοιο,\nκάτθεμεν ἐν λεχέεσσι, καθήραντες χρόα καλὸν\nὕδατί τε λιαρῷ καὶ ἀλείφατι· πολλὰ δέ σʼ ἀμφὶ\nδάκρυα θερμὰ χέον Δαναοὶ κείροντό τε χαίτας.\nμήτηρ δʼ ἐξ ἁλὸς ἦλθε σὺν ἀθανάτῃς ἁλίῃσιν\nἀγγελίης ἀΐουσα· βοὴ δʼ ἐπὶ πόντον ὀρώρει\nθεσπεσίη, ὑπὸ δὲ τρόμος ἔλλαβε πάντας Ἀχαιούς·\nκαί νύ κʼ ἀναΐξαντες ἔβαν κοίλας ἐπὶ νῆας,\nεἰ μὴ ἀνὴρ κατέρυκε παλαιά τε πολλά τε εἰδώς,\nΝέστωρ, οὗ καὶ πρόσθεν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή·\nὅ σφιν ἐϋφρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·\nἴσχεσθʼ, Ἀργεῖοι, μὴ φεύγετε, κοῦροι Ἀχαιῶν·\nμήτηρ ἐξ ἁλὸς ἥδε σὺν ἀθανάτῃς ἁλίῃσιν\nἔρχεται, οὗ παιδὸς τεθνηότος ἀντιόωσα.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἔσχοντο φόβου μεγάθυμοι Ἀχαιοί·\nἀμφὶ δέ σʼ ἔστησαν κοῦραι ἁλίοιο γέροντος\nοἴκτρʼ ὀλοφυρόμεναι, περὶ δʼ ἄμβροτα εἵματα ἕσσαν.\nΜοῦσαι δʼ ἐννέα πᾶσαι ἀμειβόμεναι ὀπὶ καλῇ\nθρήνεον· ἔνθα κεν οὔ τινʼ ἀδάκρυτόν γʼ ἐνόησας\nἈργείων· τοῖον γὰρ ὑπώρορε Μοῦσα λίγεια.\nἑπτὰ δὲ καὶ δέκα μέν σε ὁμῶς νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ\nκλαίομεν ἀθάνατοί τε θεοὶ θνητοί τʼ ἄνθρωποι·\nὀκτωκαιδεκάτῃ δʼ ἔδομεν πυρί, πολλὰ δέ σʼ ἀμφὶ\nμῆλα κατεκτάνομεν μάλα πίονα καὶ ἕλικας βοῦς.\nκαίεο δʼ ἔν τʼ ἐσθῆτι θεῶν καὶ ἀλείφατι πολλῷ\nκαὶ μέλιτι γλυκερῷ· πολλοὶ δʼ ἥρωες Ἀχαιοὶ\nτεύχεσιν ἐρρώσαντο πυρὴν πέρι καιομένοιο,\nπεζοί θʼ ἱππῆές τε· πολὺς δʼ ὀρυμαγδὸς ὀρώρει\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δή σε φλὸξ ἤνυσεν Ἡφαίστοιο,\nἠῶθεν δή τοι λέγομεν λεύκʼ ὀστέʼ, Ἀχιλλεῦ,\nοἴνῳ ἐν ἀκρήτῳ καὶ ἀλείφατι· δῶκε δὲ μήτηρ\nχρύσεον ἀμφιφορῆα· Διωνύσοιο δὲ δῶρον\nφάσκʼ ἔμεναι, ἔργον δὲ περικλυτοῦ Ἡφαίστοιο.\nἐν τῷ τοι κεῖται λεύκʼ ὀστέα, φαίδιμʼ Ἀχιλλεῦ,\nμίγδα δὲ Πατρόκλοιο Μενοιτιάδαο θανόντος,\nχωρὶς δʼ Ἀντιλόχοιο, τὸν ἔξοχα τῖες ἁπάντων\nτῶν ἄλλων ἑτάρων, μετὰ Πάτροκλόν γε θανόντα.\nἀμφʼ αὐτοῖσι δʼ ἔπειτα μέγαν καὶ ἀμύμονα τύμβον\nχεύαμεν Ἀργείων ἱερὸς στρατὸς αἰχμητάων\nἀκτῇ ἔπι προὐχούσῃ, ἐπὶ πλατεῖ Ἑλλησπόντῳ,\nὥς κεν τηλεφανὴς ἐκ ποντόφιν ἀνδράσιν εἴη\nτοῖς οἳ νῦν γεγάασι καὶ οἳ μετόπισθεν ἔσονται.\nμήτηρ δʼ αἰτήσασα θεοὺς περικαλλέʼ ἄεθλα\nθῆκε μέσῳ ἐν ἀγῶνι ἀριστήεσσιν Ἀχαιῶν.\nἤδη μὲν πολέων τάφῳ ἀνδρῶν ἀντεβόλησας\nἡρώων, ὅτε κέν ποτʼ ἀποφθιμένου βασιλῆος\nζώννυνταί τε νέοι καὶ ἐπεντύνονται ἄεθλα·\nἀλλά κε κεῖνα μάλιστα ἰδὼν θηήσαο θυμῷ,\nοἷʼ ἐπὶ σοὶ κατέθηκε θεὰ περικαλλέʼ ἄεθλα,\nἀργυρόπεζα Θέτις· μάλα γὰρ φίλος ἦσθα θεοῖσιν.\nὣς σὺ μὲν οὐδὲ θανὼν ὄνομʼ ὤλεσας, ἀλλά τοι αἰεὶ\nπάντας ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους κλέος ἔσσεται ἐσθλόν, Ἀχιλλεῦ,\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τί τόδʼ ἦδος, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσα;\nἐν νόστῳ γάρ μοι Ζεὺς μήσατο λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον\nΑἰγίσθου ὑπὸ χερσὶ καὶ οὐλομένης ἀλόχοιο.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης,\nψυχὰς μνηστήρων κατάγων Ὀδυσῆϊ δαμέντων,\nτὼ δʼ ἄρα θαμβήσαντʼ ἰθὺς κίον, ὡς ἐσιδέσθην.\nἔγνω δὲ ψυχὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο\nπαῖδα φίλον Μελανῆος, ἀγακλυτὸν Ἀμφιμέδοντα·\nξεῖνος γάρ οἱ ἔην Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκία ναίων.\nτὸν προτέρη ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀτρεΐδαο·\nἈμφίμεδον, τί παθόντες ἐρεμνὴν γαῖαν ἔδυτε\nπάντες κεκριμένοι καὶ ὁμήλικες; οὐδέ κεν ἄλλως\nκρινάμενος λέξαιτο κατὰ πτόλιν ἄνδρας ἀρίστους.\nἦ ὔμμʼ ἐν νήεσσι Ποσειδάων ἐδάμασσεν,\nὄρσας ἀργαλέους ἀνέμους καὶ κύματα μακρά;\nἦ που ἀνάρσιοι ἄνδρες ἐδηλήσαντʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου\nβοῦς περιταμνομένους ἠδʼ οἰῶν πώεα καλά,\nἠὲ περὶ πτόλιος μαχεούμενοι ἠδὲ γυναικῶν;\nεἰπέ μοι εἰρομένῳ· ξεῖνος δέ τοι εὔχομαι εἶναι.\nἦ οὐ μέμνῃ ὅτε κεῖσε κατήλυθον ὑμέτερον δῶ,\nὀτρυνέων Ὀδυσῆα σὺν ἀντιθέῳ Μενελάῳ\nἼλιον εἰς ἅμʼ ἕπεσθαι ἐϋσσέλμων ἐπὶ νηῶν;\nμηνὶ δʼ ἄρʼ οὔλῳ πάντα περήσαμεν εὐρέα πόντον,\nσπουδῇ παρπεπιθόντες Ὀδυσσῆα πτολίπορθον.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀμφιμέδοντος·\nἈτρεΐδη κύδιστε, ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγάμεμνον,\nμέμνημαι τάδε πάντα, διοτρεφές, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·\nσοὶ δʼ ἐγὼ εὖ μάλα πάντα καὶ ἀτρεκέως καταλέξω,\nἡμετέρου θανάτοιο κακὸν τέλος, οἷον ἐτύχθη.\nμνώμεθʼ Ὀδυσσῆος δὴν οἰχομένοιο δάμαρτα·\nἡ δʼ οὔτʼ ἠρνεῖτο στυγερὸν γάμον οὔτʼ ἐτελεύτα,\nἡμῖν φραζομένη θάνατον καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν,\nἀλλὰ δόλον τόνδʼ ἄλλον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμήριξε·\nστησαμένη μέγαν ἱστὸν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὕφαινε,\nλεπτὸν καὶ περίμετρον· ἄφαρ δʼ ἡμῖν μετέειπε·\nκοῦροι ἐμοὶ μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nμίμνετʼ ἐπειγόμενοι τὸν ἐμὸν γάμον, εἰς ὅ κε φᾶρος\nἐκτελέσω, μή μοι μεταμώνια νήματʼ ὄληται,\nΛαέρτῃ ἥρωϊ ταφήϊον, εἰς ὅτε κέν μιν\nμοῖρʼ ὀλοὴ καθέλῃσι τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο,\nμή τίς μοι κατὰ δῆμον Ἀχαιϊάδων νεμεσήσῃ,\nαἴ κεν ἄτερ σπείρου κεῖται πολλὰ κτεατίσσας.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.\nἔνθα καὶ ἠματίη μὲν ὑφαίνεσκεν μέγαν ἱστόν,\nνύκτας δʼ ἀλλύεσκεν, ἐπεὶ δαΐδας παραθεῖτο.\nὣς τρίετες μὲν ἔληθε δόλῳ καὶ ἔπειθεν Ἀχαιούς·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε τέτρατον ἦλθεν ἔτος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,\nμηνῶν φθινόντων, περὶ δʼ ἤματα πόλλʼ ἐτελέσθη,\nκαὶ τότε δή τις ἔειπε γυναικῶν, ἣ σάφα ᾔδη,\nκαὶ τήν γʼ ἀλλύουσαν ἐφεύρομεν ἀγλαὸν ἱστόν.\nὣς τὸ μὲν ἐξετέλεσσε καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλουσʼ, ὑπʼ ἀνάγκης.\nεὖθʼ ἡ φᾶρος ἔδειξεν, ὑφήνασα μέγαν ἱστόν,\nπλύνασʼ, ἠελίῳ ἐναλίγκιον ἠὲ σελήνῃ,\nκαὶ τότε δή ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆα κακός ποθεν ἤγαγε δαίμων\nἀγροῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιήν, ὅθι δώματα ναῖε συβώτης.\nἔνθʼ ἦλθεν φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,\nἐκ Πύλου ἠμαθόεντος ἰὼν σὺν νηῒ μελαίνῃ·\nτὼ δὲ μνηστῆρσιν θάνατον κακὸν ἀρτύναντε\nἵκοντο προτὶ ἄστυ περικλυτόν, ἦ τοι Ὀδυσσεὺς\nὕστερος, αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος πρόσθʼ ἡγεμόνευε.\nτὸν δὲ συβώτης ἦγε κακὰ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα,\nπτωχῷ λευγαλέῳ ἐναλίγκιον ἠδὲ γέροντι\nσκηπτόμενον· τὰ δὲ λυγρὰ περὶ χροῒ εἵματα ἕστο·\nοὐδέ τις ἡμείων δύνατο γνῶναι τὸν ἐόντα\nἐξαπίνης προφανέντʼ, οὐδʼ οἳ προγενέστεροι ἦσαν,\nἀλλʼ ἔπεσίν τε κακοῖσιν ἐνίσσομεν ἠδὲ βολῇσιν.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ τῆος ἐτόλμα ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἑοῖσι\nβαλλόμενος καὶ ἐνισσόμενος τετληότι θυμῷ·\nἀλλʼ ὅτε δή μιν ἔγειρε Διὸς νοός αἰγιόχοιο,\nσὺν μὲν Τηλεμάχῳ περικαλλέα τεύχεʼ ἀείρας\nἐς θάλαμον κατέθηκε καὶ ἐκλήϊσεν ὀχῆας,\nαὐτὰρ ὁ ἣν ἄλοχον πολυκερδείῃσιν ἄνωγε\nτόξον μνηστήρεσσι θέμεν πολιόν τε σίδηρον,\nἡμῖν αἰνομόροισιν ἀέθλια καὶ φόνου ἀρχήν.\nοὐδέ τις ἡμείων δύνατο κρατεροῖο βιοῖο\nνευρὴν ἐντανύσαι, πολλὸν δʼ ἐπιδευέες ἦμεν.\nἀλλʼ ὅτε χεῖρας ἵκανεν Ὀδυσσῆος μέγα τόξον,\nἔνθʼ ἡμεῖς μὲν πάντες ὁμοκλέομεν ἐπέεσσι\nτόξον μὴ δόμεναι, μηδʼ εἰ μάλα πολλʼ ἀγορεύοι·\nΤηλέμαχος δέ μιν οἶος ἐποτρύνων ἐκέλευσεν.\nαὐτὰρ ὁ δέξατο χειρὶ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nῥηϊδίως δʼ ἐτάνυσσε βιόν, διὰ δʼ ἧκε σιδήρου,\nστῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰών, ταχέας δʼ ἐκχεύατʼ ὀϊστοὺς\nδεινὸν παπταίνων, βάλε δʼ Ἀντίνοον βασιλῆα.\nαὐτὰρ ἔπειτʼ ἄλλοις ἐφίει βέλεα στονόεντα,\nἄντα τιτυσκόμενος· τοὶ δʼ ἀγχιστῖνοι ἔπιπτον.\nγνωτὸν δʼ ἦν ὅ ῥά τίς σφι θεῶν ἐπιτάρροθος ἦεν·\nαὐτίκα γὰρ κατὰ δώματʼ ἐπισπόμενοι μένεϊ σφῷ\nκτεῖνον ἐπιστροφάδην, τῶν δὲ στόνος ὤρνυτʼ ἀεικὴς\nκράτων τυπτομένων, δάπεδον δʼ ἅπαν αἵματι θῦεν.\nὣς ἡμεῖς, Ἀγάμεμνον, ἀπωλόμεθʼ, ὧν ἔτι καὶ νῦν\nσώματʼ ἀκηδέα κεῖται ἐνὶ μεγάροις Ὀδυσῆος·\nοὐ γάρ πω ἴσασι φίλοι κατὰ δώμαθʼ ἑκάστου,\nοἵ κʼ ἀπονίψαντες μέλανα βρότον ἐξ ὠτειλέων\nκατθέμενοι γοάοιεν· ὃ γὰρ γέρας ἐστὶ θανόντων.\nτὸν δʼ αὖτε ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀτρεΐδαο·\nὄλβιε Λαέρταο πάϊ, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nἦ ἄρα σὺν μεγάλῃ ἀρετῇ ἐκτήσω ἄκοιτιν.\nὡς ἀγαθαὶ φρένες ἦσαν ἀμύμονι Πηνελοπείῃ,\nκούρῃ Ἰκαρίου· ὡς εὖ μέμνητʼ Ὀδυσῆος,\nἀνδρὸς κουριδίου· τῷ οἱ κλέος οὔ ποτʼ ὀλεῖται\nἧς ἀρετῆς, τεύξουσι δʼ ἐπιχθονίοισιν ἀοιδὴν\nἀθάνατοι χαρίεσσαν ἐχέφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,\nοὐχ ὡς Τυνδαρέου κούρη κακὰ μήσατο ἔργα,\nκουρίδιον κτείνασα πόσιν, στυγερὴ δέ τʼ ἀοιδὴ\nἔσσετʼ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους, χαλεπὴν δέ τε φῆμιν ὀπάσσει\nθηλυτέρῃσι γυναιξί, καὶ ἥ κʼ εὐεργὸς ἔῃσιν.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,\nἑσταότʼ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοις, ὑπὸ κεύθεσι γαίης·\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ἐκ πόλιος κατέβαν, τάχα δʼ ἀγρὸν ἵκοντο\nκαλὸν Λαέρταο τετυγμένον, ὅν ῥά ποτʼ αὐτὸς\nΛαέρτης κτεάτισσεν, ἐπεὶ μάλα πόλλʼ ἐμόγησεν.\nἔνθα οἱ οἶκος ἔην, περὶ δὲ κλίσιον θέε πάντη,\nἐν τῷ σιτέσκοντο καὶ ἵζανον ἠδὲ ἴαυον\nδμῶες ἀναγκαῖοι, τοί οἱ φίλα ἐργάζοντο.\nἐν δὲ γυνὴ Σικελὴ γρηῢς πέλεν, ἥ ῥα γέροντα\nἐνδυκέως κομέεσκεν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ, νόσφι πόληος.\nἔνθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς δμώεσσι καὶ υἱέϊ μῦθον ἔειπεν·\nὑμεῖς μὲν νῦν ἔλθετʼ ἐϋκτίμενον δόμον εἴσω,\nδεῖπνον δʼ αἶψα συῶν ἱερεύσατε ὅς τις ἄριστος·\nαὐτὰρ ἐγὼ πατρὸς πειρήσομαι ἡμετέροιο,\nαἴ κέ μʼ ἐπιγνώῃ καὶ φράσσεται ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,\nἦέ κεν ἀγνοιῇσι, πολὺν χρόνον ἀμφὶς ἐόντα.\nὣς εἰπὼν δμώεσσιν ἀρήϊα τεύχεʼ ἔδωκεν.\nοἱ μὲν ἔπειτα δόμονδε θοῶς κίον, αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἆσσον ἴεν πολυκάρπου ἀλωῆς πειρητίζων.\nοὐδʼ εὗρεν Δολίον, μέγαν ὄρχατον ἐσκαταβαίνων,\nοὐδέ τινα δμώων οὐδʼ υἱῶν· ἀλλʼ ἄρα τοί γε\nαἱμασιὰς λέξοντες ἀλωῆς ἔμμεναι ἕρκος\nᾤχοντʼ, αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσι γέρων ὁδὸν ἡγεμόνευε.\nτὸν δʼ οἶον πατέρʼ εὗρεν ἐϋκτιμένῃ ἐν ἀλωῇ,\nλιστρεύοντα φυτόν· ῥυπόωντα δὲ ἕστο χιτῶνα\nῥαπτὸν ἀεικέλιον, περὶ δὲ κνήμῃσι βοείας\nκνημῖδας ῥαπτὰς δέδετο, γραπτῦς ἀλεείνων,\nχειρῖδάς τʼ ἐπὶ χερσὶ βάτων ἕνεκʼ· αὐτὰρ ὕπερθεν\nαἰγείην κυνέην κεφαλῇ ἔχε, πένθος ἀέξων.\nτὸν δʼ ὡς οὖν ἐνόησε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς\nγήραϊ τειρόμενον, μέγα δὲ φρεσὶ πένθος ἔχοντα,\nστὰς ἄρʼ ὑπὸ βλωθρὴν ὄγχνην κατὰ δάκρυον εἶβε.\nμερμήριξε δʼ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμὸν\nκύσσαι καὶ περιφῦναι ἑὸν πατέρʼ, ἠδὲ ἕκαστα\nεἰπεῖν, ὡς ἔλθοι καὶ ἵκοιτʼ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,\nἦ πρῶτʼ ἐξερέοιτο ἕκαστά τε πειρήσαιτο.\nὧδε δέ οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,\nπρῶτον κερτομίοις ἐπέεσσιν πειρηθῆναι.\nτὰ φρονέων ἰθὺς κίεν αὐτοῦ δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nἦ τοι ὁ μὲν κατέχων κεφαλὴν φυτὸν ἀμφελάχαινε·\nτὸν δὲ παριστάμενος προσεφώνεε φαίδιμος υἱός·\nὦ γέρον, οὐκ ἀδαημονίη σʼ ἔχει ἀμφιπολεύειν\nὄρχατον, ἀλλʼ εὖ τοι κομιδὴ ἔχει, οὐδέ τι πάμπαν,\nοὐ φυτόν, οὐ συκέη, οὐκ ἄμπελος, οὐ μὲν ἐλαίη,\nοὐκ ὄγχνη, οὐ πρασιή τοι ἄνευ κομιδῆς κατὰ κῆπον.\nἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ μὴ χόλον ἔνθεο θυμῷ\nαὐτόν σʼ οὐκ ἀγαθὴ κομιδὴ ἔχει, ἀλλʼ ἅμα γῆρας\nλυγρὸν ἔχεις αὐχμεῖς τε κακῶς καὶ ἀεικέα ἕσσαι.\nοὐ μὲν ἀεργίης γε ἄναξ ἕνεκʼ οὔ σε κομίζει,\nοὐδέ τί τοι δούλειον ἐπιπρέπει εἰσοράασθαι\nεἶδος καὶ μέγεθος· βασιλῆϊ γὰρ ἀνδρὶ ἔοικας.\nτοιούτῳ δὲ ἔοικας, ἐπεὶ λούσαιτο φάγοι τε,\nεὑδέμεναι μαλακῶς· ἡ γὰρ δίκη ἐστὶ γερόντων.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,\nτεῦ δμὼς εἶς ἀνδρῶν; τεῦ δʼ ὄρχατον ἀμφιπολεύεις;\nκαὶ μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ,\nεἰ ἐτεόν γʼ Ἰθάκην τήνδʼ ἱκόμεθʼ, ὥς μοι ἔειπεν\nοὗτος ἀνὴρ νῦν δὴ ξυμβλήμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἰόντι,\nοὔ τι μάλʼ ἀρτίφρων, ἐπεὶ οὐ τόλμησεν ἕκαστα\nεἰπεῖν ἠδʼ ἐπακοῦσαι ἐμὸν ἔπος, ὡς ἐρέεινον\nἀμφὶ ξείνῳ ἐμῷ, ἤ που ζώει τε καὶ ἔστιν\nἦ ἤδη τέθνηκε καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισιν.\nἐκ γάρ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο καί μευ ἄκουσον·\nἄνδρα ποτʼ ἐξείνισσα φίλῃ ἐνὶ πατρίδι γαίῃ\nἡμέτερόνδʼ ἐλθόντα, καὶ οὔ πω τις βροτὸς ἄλλος\nξείνων τηλεδαπῶν φιλίων ἐμὸν ἵκετο δῶμα·\nεὔχετο δʼ ἐξ Ἰθάκης γένος ἔμμεναι, αὐτὰρ ἔφασκε\nΛαέρτην Ἀρκεισιάδην πατέρʼ ἔμμεναι αὐτῷ.\nτὸν μὲν ἐγὼ πρὸς δώματʼ ἄγων ἐῢ ἐξείνισσα,\nἐνδυκέως φιλέων, πολλῶν κατὰ οἶκον ἐόντων,\nκαί οἱ δῶρα πόρον ξεινήϊα, οἷα ἐῴκει.\nχρυσοῦ μέν οἱ δῶκʼ εὐεργέος ἑπτὰ τάλαντα,\nδῶκα δέ οἱ κρητῆρα πανάργυρον ἀνθεμόεντα,\nδώδεκα δʼ ἁπλοΐδας χλαίνας, τόσσους δὲ τάπητας,\nτόσσα δὲ φάρεα καλά, τόσους δʼ ἐπὶ τοῖσι χιτῶνας,\nχωρὶς δʼ αὖτε γυναῖκας, ἀμύμονα ἔργα ἰδυίας,\nτέσσαρας εἰδαλίμας, ἃς ἤθελεν αὐτὸς ἑλέσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα πατὴρ κατὰ δάκρυον εἴβων·\nξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν γαῖαν ἱκάνεις, ἣν ἐρεείνεις,\nὑβρισταὶ δʼ αὐτὴν καὶ ἀτάσθαλοι ἄνδρες ἔχουσιν·\nδῶρα δʼ ἐτώσια ταῦτα χαρίζεο, μυρίʼ ὀπάζων·\nεἰ γάρ μιν ζωόν γʼ ἐκίχεις Ἰθάκης ἐνὶ δήμῳ,\nτῷ κέν σʼ εὖ δώροισιν ἀμειψάμενος ἀπέπεμψε\nκαὶ ξενίῃ ἀγαθῇ ἡ γὰρ θέμις, ὅς τις ὑπάρξῃ.\nἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,\nπόστον δὴ ἔτος ἐστίν, ὅτε ξείνισσας ἐκεῖνον\nσὸν ξεῖνον δύστηνον, ἐμὸν παῖδʼ, εἴ ποτʼ ἔην γε,\nδύσμορον; ὅν που τῆλε φίλων καὶ πατρίδος αἴης\nἠέ που ἐν πόντῳ φάγον ἰχθύες, ἢ ἐπὶ χέρσου\nθηρσὶ καὶ οἰωνοῖσιν ἕλωρ γένετʼ· οὐδέ ἑ μήτηρ\nκλαῦσε περιστείλασα πατήρ θʼ, οἵ μιν τεκόμεσθα·\nοὐδʼ ἄλοχος πολύδωρος, ἐχέφρων Πηνελόπεια,\nκώκυσʼ ἐν λεχέεσσιν ἑὸν πόσιν, ὡς ἐπεῴκει,\nὀφθαλμοὺς καθελοῦσα· τὸ γὰρ γέρας ἐστὶ θανόντων.\nκαί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ·\nτίς πόθεν εἶς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;\nποῦ δὲ νηῦς ἕστηκε θοή, ἥ σʼ ἤγαγε δεῦρο\nἀντιθέους θʼ ἑτάρους; ἦ ἔμπορος εἰλήλουθας\nνηὸς ἐπʼ ἀλλοτρίης, οἱ δʼ ἐκβήσαντες ἔβησαν;\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nτοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι πάντα μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως καταλέξω.\nεἰμὶ μὲν ἐξ Ἀλύβαντος, ὅθι κλυτὰ δώματα ναίω,\nυἱὸς Ἀφείδαντος Πολυπημονίδαο ἄνακτος·\nαὐτὰρ ἐμοί γʼ ὄνομʼ ἐστὶν Ἐπήριτος· ἀλλά με δαίμων\nπλάγξʼ ἀπὸ Σικανίης δεῦρʼ ἐλθέμεν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα·\nνηῦς δέ μοι ἥδʼ ἕστηκεν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ νόσφι πόληος.\nαὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆϊ τόδε δὴ πέμπτον ἔτος ἐστίν,\nἐξ οὗ κεῖθεν ἔβη καὶ ἐμῆς ἀπελήλυθε πάτρης,\nδύσμορος· ἦ τέ οἱ ἐσθλοὶ ἔσαν ὄρνιθες ἰόντι,\nδεξιοί, οἷς χαίρων μὲν ἐγὼν ἀπέπεμπον ἐκεῖνον,\nχαῖρε δὲ κεῖνος ἰών· θυμὸς δʼ ἔτι νῶϊν ἐώλπει\nμίξεσθαι ξενίῃ ἠδʼ ἀγλαὰ δῶρα διδώσειν.\nὣς φάτο, τὸν δʼ ἄχεος νεφέλη ἐκάλυψε μέλαινα·\nἀμφοτέρῃσι δὲ χερσὶν ἑλὼν κόνιν αἰθαλόεσσαν\nχεύατο κὰκ κεφαλῆς πολιῆς, ἁδινὰ στεναχίζων.\nτοῦ δʼ ὠρίνετο θυμός, ἀνὰ ῥῖνας δέ οἱ ἤδη\nδριμὺ μένος προὔτυψε φίλον πατέρʼ εἰσορόωντι.\nκύσσε δέ μιν περιφὺς ἐπιάλμενος, ἠδὲ προσηύδα·\nκεῖνος μέν τοι ὅδʼ αὐτὸς ἐγώ, πάτερ, ὃν σὺ μεταλλᾷς,\nἤλυθον εἰκοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.\nἀλλʼ ἴσχεο κλαυθμοῖο γόοιό τε δακρυόεντος.\nἐκ γάρ τοι ἐρέω· μάλα δὲ χρὴ σπευδέμεν ἔμπης·\nμνηστῆρας κατέπεφνον ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισι,\nλώβην τινύμενος θυμαλγέα καὶ κακὰ ἔργα.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Λαέρτης ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·\nεἰ μὲν δὴ Ὀδυσεύς γε ἐμὸς πάϊς ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνεις,\nσῆμά τί μοι νῦν εἰπὲ ἀριφραδές, ὄφρα πεποίθω.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nοὐλὴν μὲν πρῶτον τήνδε φράσαι ὀφθαλμοῖσι,\nτὴν ἐν Παρνησῷ μʼ ἔλασεν σῦς λευκῷ ὀδόντι\nοἰχόμενον· σὺ δέ με προΐεις καὶ πότνια μήτηρ\nἐς πατέρʼ Αὐτόλυκον μητρὸς φίλον, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἑλοίμην\nδῶρα, τὰ δεῦρο μολών μοι ὑπέσχετο καὶ κατένευσεν.\nεἰ δʼ ἄγε τοι καὶ δένδρεʼ ἐϋκτιμένην κατʼ ἀλωὴν\nεἴπω, ἅ μοί ποτʼ ἔδωκας, ἐγὼ δʼ ᾔτεόν σε ἕκαστα\nπαιδνὸς ἐών, κατὰ κῆπον ἐπισπόμενος· διὰ δʼ αὐτῶν\nἱκνεύμεσθα, σὺ δʼ ὠνόμασας καὶ ἔειπες ἕκαστα.\nὄγχνας μοι δῶκας τρισκαίδεκα καὶ δέκα μηλέας,\nσυκέας τεσσαράκοντʼ· ὄρχους δέ μοι ὧδʼ ὀνόμηνας\nδώσειν πεντήκοντα, διατρύγιος δὲ ἕκαστος\nἤην· ἔνθα δʼ ἀνὰ σταφυλαὶ παντοῖαι ἔασιν—\nὁππότε δὴ Διὸς ὧραι ἐπιβρίσειαν ὕπερθεν.\nὣς φάτο, τοῦ δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,\nσήματʼ ἀναγνόντος τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.\nἀμφὶ δὲ παιδὶ φίλῳ βάλε πήχεε· τὸν δὲ ποτὶ οἷ\nεἷλεν ἀποψύχοντα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἄμπνυτο καὶ ἐς φρένα θυμὸς ἀγέρθη,\nἐξαῦτις μύθοισιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·\nΖεῦ πάτερ, ἦ ῥα ἔτʼ ἔστε θεοὶ κατὰ μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον,\nεἰ ἐτεὸν μνηστῆρες ἀτάσθαλον ὕβριν ἔτισαν.\nνῦν δʼ αἰνῶς δείδοικα κατὰ φρένα μὴ τάχα πάντες\nἐνθάδʼ ἐπέλθωσιν Ἰθακήσιοι, ἀγγελίας δὲ\nπάντη ἐποτρύνωσι Κεφαλλήνων πολίεσσι.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·\nθάρσει, μή τοι ταῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι μελόντων.\nἀλλʼ ἴομεν προτὶ οἶκον, ὃς ὀρχάτου ἐγγύθι κεῖται·\nἔνθα δὲ Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην\nπροὔπεμψʼ, ὡς ἂν δεῖπνον ἐφοπλίσσωσι τάχιστα.\nὣς ἄρα φωνήσαντε βάτην πρὸς δώματα καλά.\nοἱ δʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἵκοντο δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,\nεὗρον Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην\nταμνομένους κρέα πολλὰ κερῶντάς τʼ αἴθοπα οἶνον.\nτόφρα δὲ Λαέρτην μεγαλήτορα ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ\nἀμφίπολος Σικελὴ λοῦσεν καὶ χρῖσεν ἐλαίῳ,\nἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα χλαῖναν καλὴν βάλεν· αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη\nἄγχι παρισταμένη μέλεʼ ἤλδανε ποιμένι λαῶν,\nμείζονα δʼ ἠὲ πάρος καὶ πάσσονα θῆκεν ἰδέσθαι.\nἐκ δʼ ἀσαμίνθου βῆ· θαύμαζε δέ μιν φίλος υἱός,\nὡς ἴδεν ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιον ἄντην·\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nὦ πάτερ, ἦ μάλα τίς σε θεῶν αἰειγενετάων\nεἶδός τε μέγεθός τε ἀμείνονα θῆκεν ἰδέσθαι.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Λαέρτης πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nαἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,\nοἷος Νήρικον εἷλον, ἐϋκτίμενον πτολίεθρον,\nἀκτὴν ἠπείροιο, Κεφαλλήνεσσιν ἀνάσσων,\nτοῖος ἐών τοι χθιζὸς ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισιν,\nτεύχεʼ ἔχων ὤμοισιν, ἐφεστάμεναι καὶ ἀμύνειν\nἄνδρας μνηστῆρας· τῷ κε σφέων γούνατʼ ἔλυσα\nπολλῶν ἐν μεγάροισι, σὺ δὲ φρένας ἔνδον ἐγήθεις.\nὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν παύσαντο πόνου τετύκοντό τε δαῖτα,\nἑξείης ἕζοντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε·\nἔνθʼ οἱ μὲν δείπνῳ ἐπεχείρεον, ἀγχίμολον δὲ\nἦλθʼ ὁ γέρων Δολίος, σὺν δʼ υἱεῖς τοῖο γέροντος,\nἐξ ἔργων μογέοντες, ἐπεὶ προμολοῦσα κάλεσσεν\nμήτηρ γρηῦς Σικελή, ἥ σφεας τρέφε καί ῥα γέροντα\nἐνδυκέως κομέεσκεν, ἐπεὶ κατὰ γῆρας ἔμαρψεν.\nοἱ δʼ ὡς οὖν Ὀδυσῆα ἴδον φράσσαντό τε θυμῷ,\nἔσταν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι τεθηπότες· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nμειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι καθαπτόμενος προσέειπεν·\nὦ γέρον, ἵζʼ ἐπὶ δεῖπνον, ἀπεκλελάθεσθε δὲ θάμβευς·\nδηρὸν γὰρ σίτῳ ἐπιχειρήσειν μεμαῶτες\nμίμνομεν ἐν μεγάροις, ὑμέας ποτιδέγμενοι αἰεί.\nὣς ἄρ ἔφη, Δολίος δʼ ἰθὺς κίε χεῖρε πετάσσας\nἀμφοτέρας, Ὀδυσεῦς δὲ λαβὼν κύσε χεῖρʼ ἐπὶ καρπῷ,\nκαί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεὶ νόστησας ἐελδομένοισι μάλʼ ἡμῖν\nοὐδʼ ἔτʼ ὀϊομένοισι, θεοὶ δέ σʼ ἀνήγαγον αὐτοί,\nοὖλέ τε καὶ μάλα χαῖρε, θεοὶ δέ τοι ὄλβια δοῖεν.\nκαί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ,\nἢ ἤδη σάφα οἶδε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια\nνοστήσαντά σε δεῦρʼ, ἦ ἄγγελον ὀτρύνωμεν.\nτὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς\nὦ γέρον, ἤδη οἶδε· τί σε χρὴ ταῦτα πένεσθαι;\nὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αὖτις ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐϋξέστου ἐπὶ δίφρου.\nὣς δʼ αὔτως παῖδες Δολίου κλυτὸν ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα\nδεικανόωντʼ ἐπέεσσι καὶ ἐν χείρεσσι φύοντο,\nἑξείης δʼ ἕζοντο παραὶ Δολίον, πατέρα σφόν.\nὣς οἱ μὲν περὶ δεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πένοντο·\nὌσσα δʼ ἄρʼ ἄγγελος ὦκα κατὰ πτόλιν ᾤχετο πάντη,\nμνηστήρων στυγερὸν θάνατον καὶ κῆρʼ ἐνέπουσα.\nοἱ δʼ ἄρʼ ὁμῶς ἀΐοντες ἐφοίτων ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος\nμυχμῷ τε στοναχῇ τε δόμων προπάροιθʼ Ὀδυσῆος,\nἐκ δὲ νέκυς οἴκων φόρεον καὶ θάπτον ἕκαστοι,\nτοὺς δʼ ἐξ ἀλλάων πολίων οἶκόνδε ἕκαστον\nπέμπον ἄγειν ἁλιεῦσι θοῇς ἐπὶ νηυσὶ τιθέντες·\nαὐτοὶ δʼ εἰς ἀγορὴν κίον ἀθρόοι, ἀχνύμενοι κῆρ.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἤγερθεν ὁμηγερέες τʼ ἐγένοντο,\nτοῖσιν δʼ Εὐπείθης ἀνά θʼ ἵστατο καὶ μετέειπε·\nπαιδὸς γάρ οἱ ἄλαστον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ πένθος ἔκειτο,\nἈντινόου, τὸν πρῶτον ἐνήρατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nτοῦ ὅ γε δάκρυ χέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·\nὦ φίλοι, ἦ μέγα ἔργον ἀνὴρ ὅδʼ ἐμήσατʼ Ἀχαιούς·\nτοὺς μὲν σὺν νήεσσιν ἄγων πολέας τε καὶ ἐσθλοὺς\nὤλεσε μὲν νῆας γλαφυράς, ἀπὸ δʼ ὤλεσε λαούς·\nτοὺς δʼ ἐλθὼν ἔκτεινε Κεφαλλήνων ὄχʼ ἀρίστους,\nἀλλʼ ἄγετε, πρὶν τοῦτον ἢ ἐς Πύλον ὦκα ἱκέσθαι\nἢ καὶ ἐς Ἤλιδα δῖαν, ὅθι κρατέουσιν Ἐπειοί,\nἴομεν· ἦ καὶ ἔπειτα κατηφέες ἐσσόμεθʼ αἰεί·\nλώβη γὰρ τάδε γʼ ἐστὶ καὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι,\nεἰ δὴ μὴ παίδων τε κασιγνήτων τε φονῆας\nτισόμεθʼ. οὐκ ἂν ἐμοί γε μετὰ φρεσὶν ἡδὺ γένοιτο\nζωέμεν, ἀλλὰ τάχιστα θανὼν φθιμένοισι μετείην.\nἀλλʼ ἴομεν, μὴ φθέωσι περαιωθέντες ἐκεῖνοι.\nὣς φάτο δάκρυ χέων, οἶκτος δʼ ἕλε πάντας Ἀχαιούς.\nἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε Μέδων καὶ θεῖος ἀοιδὸς\nἐκ μεγάρων Ὀδυσῆος, ἐπεί σφεας ὕπνος ἀνῆκεν,\nἔσταν δʼ ἐν μέσσοισι· τάφος δʼ ἕλεν ἄνδρα ἕκαστον.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·\nκέκλυτε δὴ νῦν μευ, Ἰθακήσιοι· οὐ γὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς\nἀθανάτων ἀέκητι θεῶν τάδʼ ἐμήσατο ἔργα·\nαὐτὸς ἐγὼν εἶδον θεὸν ἄμβροτον, ὅς ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ\nἐγγύθεν ἑστήκει καὶ Μέντορι πάντα ἐῴκει.\nἀθάνατος δὲ θεὸς τοτὲ μὲν προπάροιθʼ Ὀδυσῆος\nφαίνετο θαρσύνων, τοτὲ δὲ μνηστῆρας ὀρίνων\nθῦνε κατὰ μέγαρον· τοὶ δʼ ἀγχιστῖνοι ἔπιπτον.\nὣς φάτο, τοὺς δʼ ἄρα πάντας ὑπὸ χλωρὸν δέος ᾕρει.\nτοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε γέρων ἥρως Ἁλιθέρσης\nΜαστορίδης· ὁ γὰρ οἶος ὅρα πρόσσω καὶ ὀπίσσω·\nὅ σφιν ἐϋφρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·\nκέκλυτε δὴ νῦν μευ, Ἰθακήσιοι, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·\nὑμετέρῃ κακότητι, φίλοι, τάδε ἔργα γένοντο·\nοὐ γὰρ ἐμοὶ πείθεσθʼ, οὐ Μέντορι ποιμένι λαῶν,\nὑμετέρους παῖδας καταπαυέμεν ἀφροσυνάων,\nοἳ μέγα ἔργον ἔρεξαν ἀτασθαλίῃσι κακῇσι,\nκτήματα κείροντες καὶ ἀτιμάζοντες ἄκοιτιν\nἀνδρὸς ἀριστῆος· τὸν δʼ οὐκέτι φάντο νέεσθαι.\nκαὶ νῦν ὧδε γένοιτο. πίθεσθέ μοι ὡς ἀγορεύω·\nμὴ ἴομεν, μή πού τις ἐπίσπαστον κακὸν εὕρῃ.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρʼ ἀνήϊξαν μεγάλῳ ἀλαλητῷ\nἡμίσεων πλείους· τοὶ δʼ ἀθρόοι αὐτόθι μίμνον·\nοὐ γάρ σφιν ἅδε μῦθος ἐνὶ φρεσίν, ἀλλʼ Εὐπείθει\nπείθοντʼ· αἶψα δʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ τεύχεα ἐσσεύοντο.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἕσσαντο περὶ χροῒ νώροπα χαλκόν,\nἀθρόοι ἠγερέθοντο πρὸ ἄστεος εὐρυχόροιο.\nτοῖσιν δʼ Εὐπείθης ἡγήσατο νηπιέῃσι·\nφῆ δʼ ὅ γε τίσεσθαι παιδὸς φόνον, οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔμελλεν\nἂψ ἀπονοστήσειν, ἀλλʼ αὐτοῦ πότμον ἐφέψειν.\nαὐτὰρ Ἀθηναίη Ζῆνα Κρονίωνα προσηύδα·\nὦ πάτερ ἡμέτερε, Κρονίδη, ὕπατε κρειόντων,\nεἰπέ μοι εἰρομένῃ, τί νύ τοι νόος ἔνδοθι κεύθει;\nἢ προτέρω πόλεμόν τε κακὸν καὶ φύλοπιν αἰνὴν\nτεύξεις, ἦ φιλότητα μετʼ ἀμφοτέροισι τίθησθα;\nτὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·\nτέκνον ἐμόν, τί με ταῦτα διείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς;\nοὐ γὰρ δὴ τοῦτον μὲν ἐβούλευσας νόον αὐτή,\nὡς ἦ τοι κείνους Ὀδυσεὺς ἀποτίσεται ἐλθών;\nἔρξον ὅπως ἐθέλεις· ἐρέω τέ τοι ὡς ἐπέοικεν.\nἐπεὶ δὴ μνηστῆρας ἐτίσατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nὅρκια πιστὰ ταμόντες ὁ μὲν βασιλευέτω αἰεί,\nἡμεῖς δʼ αὖ παίδων τε κασιγνήτων τε φόνοιο\nἔκλησιν θέωμεν· τοὶ δʼ ἀλλήλους φιλεόντων\nὡς τὸ πάρος, πλοῦτος δὲ καὶ εἰρήνη ἅλις ἔστω.\nὣς εἰπὼν ὤτρυνε πάρος μεμαυῖαν Ἀθήνην,\nβῆ δὲ κατʼ Οὐλύμποιο καρήνων ἀΐξασα.\nοἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν σίτοιο μελίφρονος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,\nτοῖς δʼ ἄρα μύθων ἦρχε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nἐξελθών τις ἴδοι μὴ δὴ σχεδὸν ὦσι κιόντες.\nὣς ἔφατʼ· ἐκ δʼ υἱὸς Δολίου κίεν, ὡς ἐκέλευεν·\nστῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰών, τοὺς δὲ σχεδὸν εἴσιδε πάντας·\nαἶψα δʼ Ὀδυσσῆα ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·\nοἵδε δὴ ἐγγὺς ἔασʼ· ἀλλʼ ὁπλιζώμεθα θᾶσσον.\nὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ὤρνυντο καὶ ἐν τεύχεσσι δύοντο,\nτέσσαρες ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ, ἓξ δʼ υἱεῖς οἱ Δολίοιο·\nἐν δʼ ἄρα Λαέρτης Δολίος τʼ ἐς τεύχεʼ ἔδυνον,\nκαὶ πολιοί περ ἐόντες, ἀναγκαῖοι πολεμισταί.\nαὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἕσσαντο περὶ χροῒ νώροπα χαλκόν,\nὤϊξάν ῥα θύρας, ἐκ δʼ ἤϊον, ἦρχε δʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.\nτοῖσι δʼ ἐπʼ ἀγχίμολον θυγάτηρ Διὸς ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη\nΜέντορι εἰδομένη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ αὐδήν.\nτὴν μὲν ἰδὼν γήθησε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·\nαἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον προσεφώνεεν ὃν φίλον υἱόν·\nΤηλέμαχʼ, ἤδη μὲν τόδε γʼ εἴσεαι αὐτὸς ἐπελθών,\nἀνδρῶν μαρναμένων ἵνα τε κρίνονται ἄριστοι,\nμή τι καταισχύνειν πατέρων γένος, οἳ τὸ πάρος περ\nἀλκῇ τʼ ἠνορέῃ τε κεκάσμεθα πᾶσαν ἐπʼ αἶαν.\nτὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·\nὄψεαι, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα, πάτερ φίλε, τῷδʼ ἐπὶ θυμῷ\nοὔ τι καταισχύνοντα τεὸν γένος, ὡς ἀγορεύεις.\nὣς φάτο, Λαέρτης δʼ ἐχάρη καὶ μῦθον ἔειπε·\nτίς νύ μοι ἡμέρη ἥδε, θεοὶ φίλοι; ἦ μάλα χαίρω·\nυἱός θʼ υἱωνός τʼ ἀρετῆς πέρι δῆριν ἔχουσιν.\nτὸν δὲ παρισταμένη προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nὦ Ἀρκεισιάδη, πάντων πολὺ φίλταθʼ ἑταίρων,\nεὐξάμενος κούρῃ γλαυκώπιδι καὶ Διὶ πατρί,\nαἶψα μαλʼ ἀμπεπαλὼν προΐει δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος.\nὣς φάτο, καί ῥʼ ἔμπνευσε μένος μέγα Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη\nεὐξάμενος δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα Διὸς κούρῃ μεγάλοιο,\nαἶψα μάλʼ ἀμπεπαλὼν προΐει δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος,\nκαὶ βάλεν Εὐπείθεα κόρυθος διὰ χαλκοπαρῄου.\nἡ δʼ οὐκ ἔγχος ἔρυτο, διαπρὸ δὲ εἴσατο χαλκός,\nδούπησεν δὲ πεσών, ἀράβησε δὲ τεύχεʼ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ.\nἐν δʼ ἔπεσον προμάχοις Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ φαίδιμος υἱός,\nτύπτον δὲ ξίφεσίν τε καὶ ἔγχεσιν ἀμφιγύοισι.\nκαί νύ κε δὴ πάντας ὄλεσαν καὶ ἔθηκαν ἀνόστους,\nεἰ μὴ Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο,\nἤϋσεν φωνῇ, κατὰ δʼ ἔσχεθε λαὸν ἅπαντα.\nἴσχεσθε πτολέμου, Ἰθακήσιοι, ἀργαλέοιο,\nὥς κεν ἀναιμωτί γε διακρινθῆτε τάχιστα.\nὣς φάτʼ Ἀθηναίη, τοὺς δὲ χλωρὸν δέος εἷλεν·\nτῶν δʼ ἄρα δεισάντων ἐκ χειρῶν ἔπτατο τεύχεα,\nπάντα δʼ ἐπὶ χθονὶ πῖπτε, θεᾶς ὄπα φωνησάσης·\nπρὸς δὲ πόλιν τρωπῶντο λιλαιόμενοι βιότοιο.\nσμερδαλέον δʼ ἐβόησε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,\nοἴμησεν δὲ ἀλεὶς ὥς τʼ αἰετὸς ὑψιπετήεις.\nκαὶ τότε δὴ Κρονίδης ἀφίει ψολόεντα κεραυνόν,\nκὰδ δʼ ἔπεσε πρόσθε γλαυκώπιδος ὀβριμοπάτρης.\nδὴ τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆα προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·\nδιογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,\nἴσχεο, παῦε δὲ νεῖκος ὁμοιΐου πολέμοιο,\nμή πως τοι Κρονίδης κεχολώσεται εὐρύοπα Ζεύς.\nὣς φάτʼ Ἀθηναίη, ὁ δʼ ἐπείθετο, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ.\nὅρκια δʼ αὖ κατόπισθε μετʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἔθηκεν\nΠαλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο,\nΜέντορι εἰδομένη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ αὐδήν.","download_url":"https://mouseia.org/api/works/odyssey/original.txt"},"translations":[{"id":"trn_odyssey_mouseia","translator":"Mouseia","kind":"curated","note":"Mouseia's complete machine-assisted Musean translation, made directly from the complete Greek text of all twenty-four books (Perseus Digital Library edition), line for line, for fidelity, epic force, Homeric epithet and simile, and book structure.","text":"### Book 1\n\nTell me, Muse, of the man of many turns, who wandered far and wide\nafter he sacked the sacred citadel of Troy.\nHe saw the cities of many men and came to know their minds,\nand upon the sea he suffered many griefs in his own heart,\nstruggling for his own life and the homecoming of his companions.\nYet even so he could not save his companions, though he longed to:\nthey perished by their own blind recklessness,\nthe fools, who devoured the cattle of Helios Hyperion;\nand he took from them the day of their homecoming.\nTell us of these things too, goddess, daughter of Zeus, from wherever you will.\nThen all the others, as many as had escaped sheer destruction,\nwere at home, having fled both war and the sea.\nBut him alone, longing for his homecoming and his wife,\nthe queenly nymph Calypso, shining among goddesses, held back\nin her hollow caves, longing that he be her husband.\nBut when the year came round in the circling of the seasons,\nin which the gods had spun that he should go home,\nto Ithaca, even there he was not yet free of trials,\nnor among his own people. And all the gods pitied him\nexcept Poseidon; and he raged unceasingly\nagainst godlike Odysseus, before he reached his own land.\nBut he had gone far off to visit the Ethiopians,\nthe Ethiopians, who are split in two, the farthest of men,\nsome where Hyperion sets, and some where he rises,\nto receive a hecatomb of bulls and rams.\nThere he took his pleasure, sitting at the feast; but the others\nwere gathered together in the halls of Olympian Zeus.\nAnd among them the father of gods and men began the speech;\nfor he remembered in his heart blameless Aegisthus,\nwhom far-famed Orestes, son of Agamemnon, had killed.\nRemembering him, he spoke his words to the deathless gods:\n\"Oh, how mortals blame the gods!\nThey say their evils come from us, yet they themselves,\nthrough their own recklessness, have sorrows beyond their fate,\nas now Aegisthus, beyond his fate, married the wife of Atreus' son\nand killed him when he came home,\nthough he knew sheer destruction was coming, for we told him beforehand,\nsending Hermes, the keen-sighted slayer of Argus,\nthat he should neither kill the man nor court his wife;\nfor from Orestes would come vengeance for the son of Atreus,\nonce he came of age and longed for his own land.\nSo spoke Hermes, but he did not persuade the mind of Aegisthus,\ngood as his counsel was; and now he has paid for it all at once.\"\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"Father of ours, son of Cronus, highest of lords,\nhe indeed lies in a death that suits him;\nso may any other perish who does such things.\nBut my heart is torn for Odysseus, the shrewd fighter,\nthe unlucky man, who suffers griefs so long, far from his loved ones,\non a sea-girt island, where the navel of the sea is,\na wooded island; and a goddess has her home there,\nthe daughter of Atlas of the baneful mind, who knows\nthe depths of every sea, and who himself holds the long pillars\nthat keep earth and heaven apart.\nHis daughter keeps the unhappy man back as he weeps,\never charming him with soft, wheedling words\nso that he may forget Ithaca; but Odysseus,\nlonging even to see the smoke leaping up\nfrom his own land, longs to die. And does your heart not stir\nat all, Olympian? Did Odysseus not please you\nbeside the Argive ships, offering you pleasing sacrifice,\nin wide Troy? Why are you so angry at him, Zeus?\"\nAnd Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered her:\n\"My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth!\nHow could I then forget godlike Odysseus,\nwho is beyond all mortals in understanding, and who has given\nsacrifices beyond measure to the deathless gods who hold wide heaven?\nBut Poseidon, the earth-holder, is forever unrelentingly\nangry about the Cyclops, whom he blinded in the eye,\ngodlike Polyphemus, whose strength is greatest\nof all the Cyclopes; and the nymph Thoosa bore him,\ndaughter of Phorcys, ruler of the barren sea,\nin hollow caves, having lain with Poseidon.\nFrom that time on, Poseidon the earth-shaker\ndoes not kill Odysseus, but drives him wandering from his homeland.\nCome then, let us all here take thought together\nfor his homecoming, how he may return; and Poseidon will let go\nhis wrath; for he will not be able to contend against all\nthe deathless gods alone, against their will.\"\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"Father of ours, son of Cronus, highest of lords,\nif this is now dear to the blessed gods,\nthat Odysseus of many thoughts return to his own house,\nthen let us send Hermes, the guide, the slayer of Argus,\nto the island of Ogygia, so that he may quickly\ntell the fair-tressed nymph our unerring counsel,\nthe homecoming of steadfast Odysseus, that he may return.\nBut I will go to Ithaca, so that I may stir up his son\nthe more, and put strength in his heart,\nand that he may call the long-haired Achaeans to assembly\nand speak out against all the suitors, who are forever\nslaughtering his thick flocks and his rolling-gaited, crumple-horned cattle.\nAnd I will send him to Sparta and to sandy Pylos\nto ask about his dear father's homecoming, if he may hear news somewhere,\nand so that men may hold him in good repute.\"\nSo speaking, she bound under her feet her beautiful sandals,\nimmortal, golden, which carried her both over the wet\nsea and over the boundless land along with the breath of the wind.\nShe took up her sturdy spear, tipped with sharp bronze,\nheavy, huge, and solid, with which she subdues the ranks of men,\nthe heroes, whenever the daughter of the mighty father is angry with them.\nShe sprang down from the peaks of Olympus\nand stood in the land of Ithaca, at the doorway of Odysseus' house,\non the courtyard threshold; and in her hand she held her bronze spear,\nlooking like a stranger, Mentes, leader of the Taphians.\nShe found the proud suitors. These were amusing\ntheir hearts with draughts in front of the doors,\nsitting on the hides of oxen they had killed themselves;\nand heralds and busy attendants,\nsome were mixing wine and water in the bowls,\nwhile others wiped the tables with porous sponges\nand set them out, and others carved great quantities of meat.\nGodlike Telemachus saw her first, long before the others,\nfor he sat among the suitors, sick at heart,\npicturing in his mind his noble father, if somehow he might come\nand scatter the suitors through the house,\nand himself win honor and be master in his own house.\nThinking these things as he sat among the suitors, he caught sight of Athena.\nHe went straight to the doorway, and was vexed at heart\nthat a stranger had stood so long at the doors; and standing near,\nhe took her right hand and received her bronze spear,\nand spoke aloud, and winged words flew from him:\n\"Hail, stranger; you shall be welcomed among us; and afterwards,\nwhen you have tasted dinner, you shall tell us what you need.\"\nSo speaking he led the way, and Pallas Athena followed him.\nAnd when they were inside the high-roofed house,\nhe carried her spear and stood it against a tall pillar\ninside the well-polished spear-rack, where many other spears\nof steadfast Odysseus stood.\nHe led her to a seat and set her in it, spreading a linen cloth beneath,\na beautiful, intricate chair; and there was a footstool beneath her feet.\nBeside her he set his own inlaid chair, away from the others,\nthe suitors, lest the stranger be annoyed by the uproar\nand take no pleasure in the meal, being among such overweening men,\nand so that he might ask her about his father, who was gone.\nA handmaid brought a pitcher and poured water over their hands\nfrom a beautiful golden jug, over a silver basin,\nfor them to wash; and she drew up a polished table beside them.\nAnd the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,\nadding many dishes, freely giving of what was there;\nand the carver lifted up platters of meat of every kind\nand set them before them, and placed golden cups beside them;\nand a herald came and went, pouring their wine.\nThen the proud suitors came in. They sat down\nin order, on the chairs and seats,\nand heralds poured water over their hands,\nand slave women heaped bread in baskets,\nand young men filled the mixing bowls to the brim with drink.\nThey flung their hands upon the ready food set before them.\nBut when they had put away their desire for drink and food,\nthe suitors, other things were on their minds,\nsong and dancing, for these are the crowning of a feast.\nAnd the herald put a beautiful lyre into the hands\nof Phemius, who sang for the suitors under compulsion.\nHe struck the strings and began to sing a beautiful song.\nBut Telemachus spoke to grey-eyed Athena,\nholding his head close, so the others would not hear:\n\"Dear stranger, will you be angry with me for what I say?\nThese men care for this, the lyre and the song,\neasily, since they devour another man's livelihood without payment,\na man whose white bones surely rot in the rain\nsomewhere on the mainland, or the waves roll them in the sea.\nIf they saw that man come home to Ithaca,\nthey would all pray to be lighter on their feet\nrather than richer in gold and clothing.\nBut now he has perished by an evil fate, and there is no comfort\nfor us, even if someone among the earthbound mortals\nsays he will come; his day of homecoming is gone.\nBut come, tell me this, and recount it accurately:\nwho among men are you, and from where? Where is your city and your parents?\nOn what kind of ship did you arrive? How did the sailors\nbring you to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be?\nFor I do not think you came here on foot.\nAnd tell me this truly, so that I may know well,\nwhether you are a new guest, or a guest-friend of my father's house\nfrom the beginning; for many men used to come to our house,\nsince that man too was much given to travelling among people.\"\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"Then I will tell you all this quite accurately.\nI claim to be Mentes, son of shrewd Anchialus,\nand I rule over the Taphians, who love their oars.\nI have come down here now with my ship and my companions,\nsailing over the wine-dark sea to men of other speech,\nto Temesa for bronze, and I am carrying gleaming iron.\nMy ship lies out in the countryside, away from the city,\nin the harbor of Rheithron, under wooded Neion.\nWe claim to be guest-friends of one another from our fathers' time,\nfrom the beginning, if you go and ask the old man,\nthe hero Laertes, who, they say, no longer comes into the city,\nbut far off in the countryside endures his sorrows\nwith an old woman for a servant, who gives him food and drink\nwhenever weariness seizes his limbs\nas he creeps along the slope of his vineyard.\nI have come now; for they said he was here in his own land,\nyour father; but the gods are thwarting him on his road.\nFor godlike Odysseus has not yet died on this earth,\nbut is still alive somewhere, held back on the wide sea,\non a sea-girt island, and harsh men hold him there,\nwild men, who hold him there against his will.\nBut now I will prophesy to you, as the immortals put it\nin my heart, and as I think it will be accomplished,\nthough I am no prophet, nor one who reads birds clearly.\nHe will not be long away from his dear homeland,\nnot even if iron bonds hold him;\nhe will find a way to return, for he is full of devices.\nBut come, tell me this, and recount it accurately:\nare you really so tall a son of Odysseus himself?\nYou are wonderfully like him in your head and your beautiful eyes,\nfor we often met with one another,\nbefore he went up to Troy, where the other\nbest of the Argives went in their hollow ships;\nand since then I have not seen Odysseus, nor he me.\"\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered her:\n\"Then I will tell you, stranger, quite accurately.\nMy mother says I am his; but I myself\ndo not know; for no one has ever known his own parentage.\nHow I wish I were the son of some blessed man,\na man whom old age came upon among his own possessions.\nBut now, the son of that most ill-fated of mortal men,\nthat is what they say I am, since you ask me this.\"\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"The gods have not made your line nameless for the future,\nsince Penelope bore you as you are.\nBut come, tell me this, and recount it accurately:\nwhat feast is this, what gathering is here? What do you need?\nA banquet, or a wedding? For this is no common meal where each brings his share;\nthey seem to me to be behaving with outrageous arrogance\nas they feast through the house. Any man of sense would be indignant\nwho came among them and saw such shameful things.\"\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered her:\n\"Stranger, since you ask me these things and question me,\nthis house was once bound to be wealthy and blameless,\nas long as that man was still here in the land;\nbut now the gods, devising evil, have willed it otherwise,\nthey have made that man unseen, past the knowledge of all\nmen; for I would not grieve so much if he had died,\nif he had fallen among his companions in the land of the Trojans,\nor in the hands of his loved ones, after he had wound up the war.\nThen the Panachaeans would have made him a tomb,\nand he would have won great glory for his son in time to come.\nBut now the Harpies have snatched him away without glory;\nhe is gone, unseen, unheard of, and to me pains and laments\nhe has left. And I do not groan only for him, mourning him,\nsince the gods have fashioned other evil cares for me.\nFor as many nobles as hold sway over the islands,\nDulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus,\nand as many as are lords in rocky Ithaca,\nall these court my mother and wear down my house.\nShe neither refuses the hateful marriage nor can she bring it\nto an end; and they waste away my house by eating it,\nand soon they will destroy me too.\"\nThen Pallas Athena, in anger, spoke to him:\n\"Oh, how much you need Odysseus, the man who is gone,\nto lay his hands on these shameless suitors!\nIf only he would come now and stand in the front doors of the house,\nwith his helmet and shield and two spears,\nthe way I first saw him,\ndrinking and making merry in our house,\ncome from Ephyra, from the house of Ilus, son of Mermerus,\nfor Odysseus had gone there too in his swift ship,\nseeking a man-killing drug, so that he might have it\nto smear on his bronze-tipped arrows; but Ilus did not\ngive it to him, for he feared the everlasting gods;\nbut my father gave it, for he loved him exceedingly.\nIf Odysseus came among the suitors like that,\nthey would all find quick deaths and bitter marriages.\nBut these things lie on the knees of the gods,\nwhether he will come home and take vengeance, or not,\nin his own halls; and I urge you to take thought\nhow you may drive the suitors from the hall.\nCome now, listen to me and heed my words:\ntomorrow, having called the Achaean heroes to assembly,\nspeak your word to them all, and let the gods be witnesses.\nBid the suitors scatter to their own affairs,\nand if your mother's heart urges her to marry,\nlet her go back to the hall of her powerful father,\nand they will arrange a marriage and prepare the bride-gifts,\nas many as is fitting to go with a beloved daughter.\nAnd for you yourself I will give you careful counsel, if you will obey:\nfit out a ship with twenty rowers, the best you have,\nand go to ask about your father, long gone,\nin case some mortal tells you something, or you hear a voice\nfrom Zeus, which most of all brings news to men.\nFirst go to Pylos and ask noble Nestor,\nthen from there to Sparta, to fair-haired Menelaus,\nfor he came home last of the bronze-clad Achaeans.\nIf you hear that your father lives and is coming home,\nthen, though worn down, you might endure another year;\nbut if you hear that he is dead and gone,\nthen come home again to your dear native land,\nheap up a tomb for him and perform the funeral rites,\nall that is fitting, and give your mother to a husband.\nAnd when you have finished and done all this,\nthen take thought in your mind and heart\nhow you may kill the suitors in your halls,\neither by guile or openly; you must no longer\nbear childishness, for you are no longer that age.\nOr have you not heard what glory godlike Orestes won\namong all men, when he killed his father's murderer,\nAegisthus the treacherous, who killed his glorious father?\nAnd you, my friend, for I see you are handsome and tall,\nbe brave, so that some man of later days may speak well of you.\nBut I will go down now to my swift ship\nand my companions, who are surely fretting as they wait for me;\nand do you take care, and heed my words.\"\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered her:\n\"Stranger, you speak these things with kindly feeling,\nlike a father to his son, and I will never forget them.\nBut come now, stay a while, eager though you are for the road,\nso that, bathed and with your heart cheered,\nyou may go to your ship with a gift, rejoicing in heart,\na precious thing, very beautiful, which will be a treasure for you\nfrom me, such as dear guest-friends give to guest-friends.\"\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"Do not hold me back now, longing as I am for the road.\nAnd whatever gift your dear heart bids you give me,\ngive it to me when I come back again, to carry home;\nchoose something very beautiful; it will be worth a return for you.\"\nSo speaking, grey-eyed Athena went away,\nand flew up and away like a bird; and in his heart\nshe put strength and courage, and reminded him of his father\nmore even than before. And he, understanding in his mind,\nwas amazed in his heart; for he guessed she was a god.\nAt once the godlike man went back to the suitors.\nAnd the famous singer was singing to them, and they sat\nlistening in silence; and he sang of the homecoming of the Achaeans,\nthe sorrowful return from Troy that Pallas Athena had ordained.\nAnd from upstairs the wise daughter of Icarius, Penelope,\nheard in her mind the inspired song,\nand she came down the high stairs of her house,\nnot alone, for two handmaids followed with her.\nAnd when the shining woman came to the suitors,\nshe stood beside the doorpost of the well-built hall,\nholding her shining veil in front of her cheeks;\nand a faithful handmaid stood on either side of her.\nWeeping, she spoke to the godlike singer:\n\"Phemius, you know many other charms for mortals,\nthe deeds of men and gods, which singers celebrate.\nSing one of those sitting beside them, and let them drink\ntheir wine in silence; but stop this song,\nthis sorrowful song, which always wears away the heart\nin my breast, since unforgettable grief has come upon me most of all.\nFor I long for such a head, remembering always\na man whose fame is wide through Hellas and mid-Argos.\"\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered her:\n\"Mother, why do you begrudge the faithful singer\nhis pleasure, wherever his mind moves him? Singers are not\nto blame, but Zeus is the cause somewhere, who gives\nto toiling men however he wishes, to each one.\nFor him there is no blame in singing the evil fate of the Danaans;\nmen praise that song the more\nwhich comes newest to those who hear it.\nLet your heart and spirit endure to hear it;\nfor Odysseus was not the only one who lost his day of homecoming\nin Troy; many other men perished too.\nBut go into the house and attend to your own work,\nthe loom and the distaff, and tell your handmaids\nto go about their work; speech will be the concern of men,\nof all men, and most of all of me; for the power in this house is mine.\"\nShe, amazed, went back into the house;\nfor she laid her son's wise words in her heart.\nAnd going up to her chamber with her women attendants,\nshe wept then for Odysseus, her dear husband, until grey-eyed Athena\ncast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.\nThen the suitors raised an uproar through the shadowy halls,\nand all of them prayed to lie beside her in bed.\nAnd thoughtful Telemachus began to speak among them:\n\"Suitors of my mother, who carry outrageous insolence,\nlet us now feast and enjoy ourselves, and let there be no shouting,\nsince it is a fine thing to listen to a singer\nsuch as this one is, whose voice is like the gods'.\nBut at dawn let us go and sit in the assembly,\nall of us, so that I may speak my word to you bluntly:\nget out of my halls; and prepare your own feasts elsewhere,\neating your own property, taking turns at one another's houses.\nBut if this seems better and preferable to you,\nthat one man's livelihood be destroyed without payment,\nthen cut it down; and I will call on the everlasting gods,\nin the hope that Zeus may grant that deeds be paid back in return;\nthen you would perish inside these halls, and no longer unpunished.\"\nSo he spoke, and all of them bit their lips,\namazed at Telemachus, that he had spoken so boldly.\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:\n\"Telemachus, surely the gods themselves are teaching you\nto be a big talker and to speak so boldly.\nMay the son of Cronus never make you king in sea-girt Ithaca,\nthough that is your birthright from your father.\"\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered him:\n\"Antinous, will you be angry with me for what I say?\nI would wish to accept that too, if Zeus should grant it.\nDo you say this is the worst thing that can befall a man?\nBeing a king is no bad thing; a man's house quickly grows\nwealthy, and he himself is more honored.\nBut there are other kings of the Achaeans,\nmany in sea-girt Ithaca, young and old,\nand one of them may hold that honor, since godlike Odysseus is dead.\nBut I will be master of my own house\nand of the slaves whom godlike Odysseus won for me.\"\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him:\n\"Telemachus, these things lie on the knees of the gods,\nwho among the Achaeans will be king in sea-girt Ithaca;\nbut your own property you may keep, and be master in your own house.\nMay no man come who, against your will, by force\nstrips your property from you, while Ithaca is still inhabited.\nBut I wish to ask you, best of men, about this stranger:\nwhere this man is from, from what land he claims\nto be, and where his family and native soil are.\nDoes he bring some news of your father's coming,\nor has he come here on some business of his own?\nHow he sprang up and was gone at once, and did not wait\nto be known; for he did not look like a bad man.\"\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered him:\n\"Eurymachus, the homecoming of my father is lost;\nI no longer trust any message, if one should come,\nnor do I heed any prophecy that my mother\nmay have called a prophet into the hall to ask about.\nAs for this stranger, he is a guest-friend of my father's, from Taphos,\nand he claims to be Mentes, son of shrewd Anchialus,\nand he rules over the Taphians, who love their oars.\"\nSo spoke Telemachus, and in his mind he knew her for the deathless goddess.\nBut they turned to dancing and lovely song,\nand made merry, waiting for evening to come.\nAnd dark evening came upon them as they made merry;\nthen each went home to lie down to sleep.\nBut Telemachus, where his chamber in the beautiful courtyard\nwas built high in an open space,\nthere he went to bed, turning many things over in his mind.\nAnd she who knew what was seemly carried the burning torches with him,\nEurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor,\nwhom Laertes once bought with his own goods\nwhile she was still in her first youth, and he gave twenty oxen for her,\nand honored her in his halls as much as his own faithful wife,\nbut never lay with her, avoiding the anger of his wife.\nShe carried the burning torches with him, and she loved him\nmost of all the slave women, and had raised him as a little child.\nShe opened the doors of the well-built chamber,\nand he sat down on the bed, and took off his soft tunic,\nand put it into the hands of the wise old woman.\nShe folded the tunic and smoothed it out,\nand hung it on a peg beside the drilled bedstead,\nand went out of the chamber, and pulled the door shut by its strap\nwith its silver handle, and drew the bolt home with the thong.\nThere all night long, wrapped in a fleece of wool,\nhe planned in his heart the journey Athena had shown him.\n\n### Book 2\n\nNow when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthe dear son of Odysseus rose from his bed,\nclothed in his garments, and slung a sharp sword on his shoulder,\nand bound fair sandals under his shining feet,\nand went from his chamber, in form like a god.\nStraightway he called to the clear-voiced heralds\nto summon the long-haired Achaeans to assembly.\nThey made the summons, and the men gathered swiftly.\nBut when they had gathered and come together in one place,\nhe went into the assembly, a bronze spear in his hand,\nnot alone: with him two swift hounds followed.\nAnd Athena poured wondrous grace upon him.\nAll the people marveled at him as he came;\nhe sat in his father's seat, and the elders gave way.\nThen the hero Aigyptios began to speak among them,\nwho was bowed with age and knew countless things.\nFor his own dear son had gone with godlike Odysseus\nto Ilios of the good horses, in the hollow ships,\nAntiphos the spearman; and the savage Cyclops killed him\nin a hollow cave, and made him his last supper.\nThree others he had; one consorted with the suitors,\nEurynomos, and two always worked their father's fields.\nBut even so he did not forget him, grieving and lamenting.\nShedding tears for him he spoke and addressed them:\nHear me now, men of Ithaca, whatever I shall say:\nnever has our assembly been held, nor a session,\nsince the day godlike Odysseus went in the hollow ships.\nBut now who has called us thus? What need has come\non the young men, or on those who are older?\nHas he heard some message of an army coming,\nwhich he would clearly tell us, since he first learned of it?\nOr does he disclose and speak of some other public matter?\nHe seems to me a good man, and a blest one. May Zeus\nbring to pass the good thing his heart desires.\nSo he spoke, and the dear son of Odysseus rejoiced at the word,\nand no longer sat still, but longed to speak,\nand stood in the middle of the assembly; and a scepter into his hand\nthe herald Peisenor put, who knew wise counsels.\nFirst then he addressed the old man, speaking to him:\nOld man, this man is not far off; soon you shall know it yourself,\nwho called the people together; and grief above all has come on me.\nI have heard no message of an army coming,\nwhich I could clearly tell you, since I first learned of it,\nnor do I disclose or speak of any other public matter,\nbut of my own need, which has fallen as evil on my house\nin two ways: I have lost a noble father, who once among you\nhere was king, and was gentle as a father;\nand now a far greater evil, which will soon\nbreak up my whole house, and destroy my livelihood altogether.\nThe suitors have set upon my mother, though she is unwilling,\nthe dear sons of those men who are the best here,\nwho shrink from going to the house of her father\nIkarios, so that he himself might dower his daughter\nand give her to whom he wished, and who came pleasing to him;\nbut they come to our house every day,\nslaughtering cattle and sheep and fat goats,\nand they feast and drink the gleaming wine\nrecklessly; and much is consumed. For there is no man\nsuch as Odysseus was, to ward off ruin from the house.\nBut we are not such as to defend it; and even then\nwe shall be wretched, and unpracticed in strength.\nTruly I would defend myself, if power were in me.\nFor deeds no longer to be borne have been done, and no longer well\nis my house destroyed. Feel shame yourselves,\nand respect the other men who dwell around you,\nwho live nearby; and fear the wrath of the gods,\nlest they turn things about, indignant at your evil deeds.\nI beg you, by Olympian Zeus and by Themis,\nwho both dissolves and convenes the assemblies of men:\nhold back, friends, and leave me alone to be worn down\nby this painful grief — unless somewhere my noble father Odysseus\ndid evil to the well-greaved Achaeans, his enemies,\nin revenge for which you do me evil in your hostility,\nurging these men on. For me it would be better\nthat you should eat my treasures and my herds.\nIf you ate them, there might someday be requital;\nfor then we could go about the town with words,\nasking for our goods back, until all were given;\nbut now you cast unbearable sorrows into my heart.\nSo he spoke in anger, and threw the scepter to the ground,\nbursting into tears; and pity seized all the people.\nThen all the others were silent, and no one dared\nanswer Telemachus with harsh words;\nbut Antinous alone answered him and said:\nTelemachus, loud-voiced, unrestrained in fury, what a thing you have said,\nshaming us; would you fasten blame upon us?\nThe Achaean suitors are not at all to blame for you,\nbut your dear mother, who knows cunning beyond all others.\nFor it is now the third year, and soon it will be the fourth,\nsince she has been cheating the hearts in the breasts of the Achaeans.\nShe gives hope to all, and promises each man,\nsending messages, but her mind desires other things.\nAnd she devised this other trick in her heart:\nshe set up a great loom in the hall and wove,\nfine and of great size; and straightway she told us:\nYoung men, my suitors, since godlike Odysseus is dead,\nwait, eager as you are for my marriage, until I finish\nthis shroud, lest my thread be wasted in vain,\na burial robe for the hero Laertes, for the time when\nthe deadly fate of long-suffering death lays him low,\nlest some Achaean woman in the land blame me,\nif he lies without a shroud, though he won much.\nSo she spoke, and our proud hearts were persuaded.\nThen by day she would weave the great web,\nbut at night she would unravel it, when she had set the torches beside her.\nSo for three years she hid it by her trick and persuaded the Achaeans;\nbut when the fourth year came and the seasons came round,\nthen indeed one of the women told us, one who knew for certain,\nand we caught her unraveling the shining web.\nSo she finished it, though unwilling, under compulsion;\nand the suitors give you this answer, so that you may know\nin your own heart, and all the Achaeans may know:\nsend your mother away, and bid her marry\nwhomever her father bids and she herself pleases.\nBut if she goes on vexing the sons of the Achaeans for a long time,\nthinking the thoughts in her heart that Athena gave her beyond others,\nto know all-beautiful handiwork and noble wits\nand cunning, such as we never heard of even in the women of old,\nof those Achaean women of the past with lovely hair,\nTyro, and Alcmene, and well-crowned Mykene;\nnone of those had thoughts like Penelope's —\nyet in this she did not think what was right.\nFor so long will they devour your livelihood and your goods,\nas long as she keeps this mind that the gods now\nput in her breast. Great glory she wins for herself,\nbut for you, the loss of much livelihood.\nAnd we will not go to our own work, nor anywhere else,\nbefore she is married to whichever of the Achaeans she wishes.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nAntinous, it is in no way possible to drive from the house against her will\nher who bore me, who raised me; and my father is elsewhere in the world,\nwhether he lives or is dead; and it would be evil for me to pay much\nto Ikarios, if I of my own will sent my mother away.\nFor from her father I shall suffer evils, and other pains a god\nwill give, since my mother, leaving the house, will call on the hateful Furies;\nand there will be blame for me from men;\nso I will never utter this word.\nBut if your own hearts feel indignation,\ngo out from my halls, and prepare other feasts,\neating your own goods, taking turns at each other's houses.\nBut if this seems to you better and more profitable,\nthat one man's livelihood be destroyed without requital,\ncut it up; but I will call on the gods who live forever,\nin hope that Zeus may grant deeds of requital to come.\nThen you would die inside my halls without requital.\nSo Telemachus spoke, and to him Zeus the far-thundering\nsent two eagles to fly down from the height of a mountain.\nThe two, as long as they flew with the blasts of the wind,\nclose to one another, stretching out their wings;\nbut when they came to the middle of the much-frequented assembly,\nthere they wheeled about and shook their close-packed wings,\nand looked down on the heads of all, and glared destruction;\nand tearing their cheeks and necks with their talons,\nthey darted off to the right, through their houses and their city.\nThe people marveled at the birds, when they saw them with their eyes;\nand they stirred in their hearts, wondering what was to be fulfilled.\nThen among them spoke the old hero Halitherses,\nson of Mastor; for he alone of his generation excelled\nin knowing birds and speaking what was right;\nwith good will toward them he spoke and addressed them:\nHear me now, men of Ithaca, whatever I shall say:\nand I speak this especially as a warning to the suitors:\nfor a great calamity rolls toward them; for Odysseus\nwill not long be far from his own dear ones, but even now,\nbeing near, he is planting slaughter and death for them\nall; and for many others too there will be evil,\nwho dwell in clearly-seen Ithaca. But long before that\nlet us take thought how we may stop them; and let them themselves\nstop too; for this is better for them at once.\nFor I do not prophesy untried, but knowing well;\nfor I say that all was fulfilled for that man,\njust as I told him, when the Argives went up to Ilios\nand with them went Odysseus of many counsels.\nI said that after suffering many evils and losing all his companions,\nunknown to all, in the twentieth year,\nhe would come home; and now all this is being fulfilled.\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybos, answered him:\nOld man, go home and prophesy to your own children,\nlest they suffer some evil hereafter;\nin these matters I am much better at prophesying than you.\nMany birds go about under the rays of the sun,\nand not all of them are meaningful; but Odysseus\nperished far away — and you should have perished with him.\nThen you would not be speaking so many prophecies,\nnor would you be stirring up Telemachus like this in his anger,\nhoping for a gift for your house, if he should give one.\nBut I will tell you plainly, and this shall be accomplished:\nif you, knowing many old things, with your words\nbeguile a younger man into being angry,\nfirst it will be more painful for him,\nand he will in any case be able to do nothing because of it;\nand on you, old man, we shall lay a fine, which you will grieve\nin your heart to pay; and it will be a hard grief for you.\nAnd to Telemachus I myself will give advice before all:\nlet him bid his mother go back to her father's house;\nand they will arrange a marriage and prepare the bride-gifts,\nvery many, as many as is fitting to go with a beloved daughter.\nFor I do not think the sons of the Achaeans will cease\nfrom their painful wooing, since we fear no one at all,\nneither Telemachus, for all his many words,\nnor do we care for prophecy, which you, old man,\nutter without fulfillment, and so become even more hateful.\nBut the property will again be eaten up badly, and never\nequal, as long as she puts off the Achaeans\nover this marriage; and we, waiting day after day,\ncompete over her excellence, and do not go after other women\nwhom each of us might fittingly marry.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nEurymachus, and all you other noble suitors,\nI no longer beg these things of you, nor speak of them;\nfor the gods already know them, and all the Achaeans.\nBut come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions,\nwho may accomplish the journey with me here and there.\nFor I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos\nto learn of my father's return, who long ago went away,\nin case some mortal tells me, or I hear a voice\nfrom Zeus, which above all brings news to men;\nIf I hear of my father's life and his return,\nthen, worn down though I am, I might yet endure a year;\nbut if I hear that he is dead and no longer living,\nthen having come home to my dear native land\nI will heap a mound for him and hold his funeral rites,\nvery many, as is fitting, and give my mother to a husband.\nSo he spoke and sat down, and among them rose\nMentor, who was the companion of blameless Odysseus,\nand when he set out in the ships he entrusted to him his whole house,\nto obey the old man and keep all things faithfully;\nwith good will toward them he spoke and addressed them:\nHear me now, men of Ithaca, whatever I shall say:\nlet no sceptered king be henceforth kindly and gentle,\nnor minding righteous things in his heart,\nbut let him always be harsh and do reckless deeds;\nsince no one remembers godlike Odysseus\namong the people he ruled, and he was gentle as a father.\nBut the proud suitors I do not begrudge\nfor doing violent deeds through the wicked scheming of their minds;\nfor they stake their own heads and violently devour\nthe house of Odysseus, and say he will never come home.\nBut now I am angry at the rest of the people, that all of you\nsit silent, and do not with a word\nstop the few suitors, though you are many.\nThen Leocritus, son of Euenor, answered him:\nMentor, mischief-maker, fool in your wits, what a thing you have said,\nin urging us to stop. It is hard\nfor men to fight even against more, over a dinner.\nFor even if Odysseus of Ithaca himself came\nand in his heart wished to drive the noble suitors\nfeasting in his own house out of the hall,\nhis wife would not rejoice at his coming, much as she longs for him,\nbut he would meet a shameful fate there\nif he fought against more men; and you have spoken out of season.\nBut come, let the people scatter, each to his own work,\nand for him let Mentor urge the journey, and Halitherses,\nwho from the first are his father's companions.\nBut I think he will sit long, waiting for tidings\nhere in Ithaca, and will never accomplish this journey.\nSo he spoke, and broke up the swift assembly.\nAnd they scattered, each to his own home,\nand the suitors went to the house of godlike Odysseus.\nBut Telemachus went apart to the shore of the sea,\nand washing his hands in the gray salt water he prayed to Athena:\nHear me, you who came yesterday as a god to our house\nand bid me in a ship over the misty sea\nto go and learn of my father's return, who long ago went away;\nbut the Achaeans put all this off,\nand the suitors above all, in their wicked arrogance.\nSo he spoke in prayer, and Athena came near to him,\nlikened to Mentor in form and in voice,\nand speaking to him she addressed winged words:\nTelemachus, you will not hereafter be cowardly or foolish,\nif indeed your father's noble strength has dripped into you,\nsuch as he was to accomplish a deed and a word;\nthen your journey will not be vain nor unaccomplished.\nBut if you are not his offspring and Penelope's,\nthen I do not expect you to accomplish what you desire.\nFor few sons are like their father;\nthe most are worse, and few are better than their father.\nBut since you will not hereafter be cowardly or foolish,\nand the cunning of Odysseus has not wholly left you,\nthere is hope that you will accomplish these deeds.\nSo now leave the counsel and the mind of the suitors,\nthe senseless, since they are neither thoughtful nor just;\nnor do they know death and black doom,\nwhich is near them, that they all be destroyed in one day.\nAnd the journey you desire will no longer be far off;\nfor I am such a companion of your father's line,\nwho will fit out a swift ship for you and myself go with you.\nBut go to the house and consort with the suitors,\nand prepare provisions and stow all in vessels,\nwine in jars, and barley, the marrow of men,\nin tightly stitched skins; and I through the town companions\nwill quickly gather, willing men. There are ships\nmany in sea-girt Ithaca, new and old;\nof these I will choose the best one for you,\nand quickly fitting it out we will launch it on the broad sea.\nSo spoke Athena, daughter of Zeus; and no longer long\ndid Telemachus wait, since he heard the voice of the goddess.\nHe went toward the house, grieving in his dear heart,\nand found the proud suitors in the halls,\nflaying goats and singeing pigs in the courtyard.\nAnd Antinous came straight at Telemachus, laughing,\nand took him by the hand, and spoke a word and named him:\nTelemachus, loud-voiced, unrestrained in fury, let no other\nevil deed or word be a care in your breast,\nbut eat and drink with me, as before.\nAll these things the Achaeans will bring to pass for you,\na ship and chosen rowers, so that you may come the sooner\nto holy Pylos, for tidings of your noble father.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nAntinous, it is in no way possible among you overbearing men\nto feast and be glad in peace, without being hurt.\nWas it not enough that before you cut down many noble\npossessions of mine, suitors, while I was still a child?\nBut now that I am grown and hear the words of others\nand learn, and my spirit grows within me,\nI will try to bring evil dooms upon you,\neither by going to Pylos, or here in this land.\nI am going, and the journey I speak of will not be in vain,\nas a passenger; for of a ship and rowers I am no master;\nso, I suppose, it seemed to you the better thing.\nSo he spoke, and easily pulled his hand from Antinous' hand;\nand the suitors busied themselves with the feast through the house.\nAnd they mocked him and jeered at him with words.\nAnd thus one of the young overbearing men would say:\nTruly Telemachus is planning slaughter for us.\nEither he will bring defenders from sandy Pylos\nor even from Sparta, since he is terribly eager;\nor he wishes to go to Ephyre, the rich farmland,\nto bring back from there heart-destroying drugs,\nand put them in the mixing bowl and kill us all.\nAnd another of the young overbearing men would say:\nAnd who knows whether he himself, going in a hollow ship,\nmay perish far from his friends, wandering as Odysseus did?\nSo would he even increase the toil for us;\nfor we would divide all his possessions, and his house\nwe would give to his mother to keep, and to whoever married her.\nSo they spoke, and he went down into his father's high-roofed chamber,\nthe broad one, where piled gold and bronze lay\nand clothing in chests, and plenty of sweet-smelling oil;\nand jars of old honey-sweet wine\nstood there, holding within the unmixed divine drink,\nfitted in a row against the wall, in case ever Odysseus\nshould return home after enduring many sorrows.\nAnd there were close-set doors, tightly joined,\ndouble-folding; and within, a woman steward night and day\nkept watch, guarding everything with the deep cunning of her mind,\nEurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor.\nThen Telemachus called to her and spoke to her toward the chamber:\nNurse, come now, draw off for me wine in two-handled jars,\nthe sweet wine, the best after that which you keep\nin hope for that unhappy man, if ever he should come,\ngodlike Odysseus, escaped from death and the dooms of fate.\nFill twelve jars, and fit them all with lids.\nAnd pour barley for me into well-stitched skins;\nlet there be twenty measures of ground barley meal.\nAnd know this yourself alone; let all be ready together;\nfor in the evening I will take them, when\nmy mother goes up to her upper room and thinks of bed.\nFor I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos\nto learn of my dear father's return, if I may hear of it.\nSo he spoke, and his dear nurse Eurycleia wailed aloud,\nand lamenting she spoke winged words:\nWhy, dear child, has this thought come into your heart?\nAnd where do you wish to go over the wide earth,\nyou who are the only beloved one? And he perished far from his homeland,\ngodlike Odysseus, among a people unknown to him.\nAnd they will straightway plot evils behind you as you go,\nthat you may perish by treachery, and they will divide all this themselves.\nBut stay here, sitting among your own; there is no need for you\nto suffer evils on the barren sea, nor to wander.\nThen wise Telemachus answered her:\nTake courage, nurse, for this counsel is not without a god.\nBut swear not to tell these things to my dear mother,\nat least until the eleventh or the twelfth day comes,\nor until she misses me herself and hears that I have set out,\nso that she may not, weeping, mar her fair skin.\nSo he spoke, and the old woman swore the great oath of the gods.\nBut when she had sworn and finished the oath,\nstraightway then she drew off wine for him in two-handled jars,\nand poured barley for him into well-stitched skins.\nAnd Telemachus went into the hall and consorted with the suitors.\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, thought of another thing.\nLikened to Telemachus she went throughout the city everywhere,\nand standing beside each man she spoke a word,\nand bid them gather at evening by the swift ship.\nAnd she in turn asked Noemon, the glorious son of Phronius,\nfor a swift ship; and he gladly promised it to her.\nThe sun set and all the ways were shadowed,\nand then he dragged the swift ship to the sea, and in it\nhe set all the gear that well-benched ships carry.\nHe moored it at the edge of the harbour, and around it noble companions\ngathered together; and the goddess urged on each one.\nThen the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, thought of another thing.\nShe went toward the house of godlike Odysseus;\nthere she poured sweet sleep over the suitors,\nand dazed them as they drank, and struck the cups from their hands.\nAnd they set out to sleep throughout the city, and no longer long\ndid they sit, since sleep fell upon their eyelids.\nBut grey-eyed Athena spoke to Telemachus,\ncalling him forth from the well-built halls,\nlikened to Mentor in form and in voice:\nTelemachus, already your well-greaved companions\nsit at the oars awaiting your coming;\nbut let us go, let us not delay the journey long.\nSo speaking, Pallas Athena led the way\nswiftly; and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.\nBut when they came down to the ship and the sea,\nthey found on the shore the long-haired companions.\nAnd among them spoke the sacred strength of Telemachus:\nCome, friends, let us bring the provisions; for all things are already\ngathered in the hall. My mother knows nothing of it,\nnor the other serving women; one alone heard the word.\nSo speaking he led the way, and they followed with him.\nAnd they carried everything and on the well-benched ship\nlaid it down, as the dear son of Odysseus had ordered.\nAnd Telemachus stepped aboard the ship, and Athena led the way,\nand sat down in the stern of the ship; and close beside her\nTelemachus sat. And they loosed the stern cables,\nand went aboard themselves and sat down on the benches.\nAnd grey-eyed Athena sent them a favouring wind,\na keen-blowing West Wind, roaring over the wine-dark sea.\nAnd Telemachus urged on his companions and ordered them\nto lay hold of the gear; and they obeyed him as he urged.\nAnd the pine mast, inside the hollow mast-box\nthey raised and set upright, and bound it down with forestays,\nand hauled up the white sails with well-twisted oxhide ropes.\nThe wind filled the middle of the sail, and around it the wave\nroared loudly, dark purple, at the stem of the moving ship;\nand she ran over the wave, accomplishing her way.\nAnd when they had stowed the gear through the swift black ship,\nthey set up mixing bowls brimming with wine,\nand poured libations to the immortal gods who live forever,\nand beyond all to the grey-eyed daughter of Zeus.\nAll night long she kept cutting her way, and on to the dawn.\n\n### Book 3\n\nNow the Sun rose up, leaving the lovely lake,\ninto the bronze-bright heaven, to shine for the deathless gods\nand for mortal men upon the life-giving earth;\nand they came to Pylos, the well-built citadel of Neleus,\nand these were on the shore of the sea making holy sacrifice,\nall-black bulls, to the Earth-Shaker of the dark-blue hair.\nNine seats there were, and in each five hundred men\nsat, and nine bulls were set before them at each seat.\nAnd when they had tasted the innards, and were burning the thigh-pieces to the god,\nthese others came straight in and furled the sails of the trim ship,\ntook them up and moored her, and themselves stepped out;\nand Telemachus stepped out of the ship, and Athena led the way.\nThe goddess, bright-eyed Athena, spoke to him first:\n\"Telemachus, no longer should you feel shame, not even a little;\nfor this is why you sailed the sea, that you might learn\nabout your father, where the earth hides him and what fate he met.\nBut come now, go straight to Nestor, the tamer of horses;\nlet us learn what counsel he hides in his breast.\nEntreat him yourself, that he may tell you the truth;\nhe will not speak a lie, for he is very wise.\"\nThen prudent Telemachus answered her and said:\n\"Mentor, how shall I go, and how shall I greet him?\nI am not yet tried in close-packed words;\nand it is a shame for a young man to question an elder.\"\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"Telemachus, some things you will yourself perceive in your own heart,\nand other things a god will put into you; for I do not think\nyou were born and raised without the will of the gods.\"\nSo speaking, Pallas Athena led the way\nswiftly, and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.\nThey came to the assembly and the seats of the men of Pylos,\nwhere Nestor was sitting with his sons, and around them his comrades\nwere preparing the feast, roasting meat and spitting other pieces.\nAnd when they saw the strangers, they all came together in a crowd,\nand greeted them with their hands and bade them sit down.\nFirst Pisistratus, son of Nestor, coming near,\ntook both their hands and seated them by the feast\non soft fleeces upon the sea sand,\nbeside his brother Thrasymedes and his own father;\nand he gave them portions of the innards, and poured wine\ninto a golden cup; and addressing her he spoke\nto Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis:\n\"Pray now, stranger, to lord Poseidon;\nfor it is his feast that you have come upon here.\nBut when you have made libation and prayed, as is right,\ngive this man too the cup of honey-sweet wine\nto pour libation, for I think that he too\nprays to the immortals; for all men have need of the gods.\nBut he is younger, and of my own age-mate;\ntherefore I will give you the golden cup first.\"\nSo speaking he placed in her hand the cup of sweet wine;\nand Athena rejoiced in the prudent and righteous man,\nbecause he gave her the golden cup first;\nand at once she prayed many things to lord Poseidon:\n\"Hear me, Poseidon, holder of the earth, and do not begrudge\nus, as we pray, that these deeds be accomplished.\nTo Nestor first of all, and to his sons, grant glory,\nand then to all the other Pylians give a gracious return\nfor this glorious hecatomb, for all of them together.\nAnd grant that Telemachus and I return having accomplished our purpose,\nsince we have come here with our swift black ship.\"\nSo she prayed, and herself brought all to fulfillment.\nAnd she gave Telemachus the beautiful two-handled cup;\nand in the same way the dear son of Odysseus prayed.\nAnd when they had roasted the upper meats and drawn them off,\nthey divided the portions and feasted on a glorious feast.\nBut when they had put away the desire for drink and food,\nthen the Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak among them:\n\"Now it is more seemly to question and to ask\nthese strangers who they are, since they have had their fill of food.\nStrangers, who are you? From where do you sail the watery paths?\nIs it on some business, or do you wander at random\nlike pirates over the sea, who roam about\nstaking their lives and bringing evil to strangers?\"\nThen prudent Telemachus answered him and said,\ntaking courage; for Athena herself had put courage in his heart,\nthat he might ask about his father who was gone away,\nand that he might have good fame among men:\n\"Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans,\nyou ask from where we are; and I will tell you all.\nWe have come from Ithaca beneath the wooded slopes;\nthis business is my own, not public, that I speak of.\nI am seeking the wide fame of my father, if perhaps I may hear it,\nof godlike Odysseus, the steadfast-hearted, whom they say once,\nfighting along with you, sacked the city of the Trojans.\nFor all the others, as many as fought against the Trojans,\nwe have heard where each perished by a wretched death;\nbut of that man the son of Cronos made even his destruction unknown.\nFor no one can say clearly when he died,\nwhether he was slain on the mainland by hostile men,\nor in the sea amid the waves of Amphitrite.\nTherefore I now come to your knees, in case you are willing\nto tell me of that man's wretched death, if perhaps you saw it\nwith your own eyes, or heard the word from another\nas he wandered; for his mother bore him to sorrow.\nAnd do not, out of shame or pity, soften your words to me,\nbut tell me plainly how you met with the sight.\nI beseech you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus,\nundertook and accomplished any word or any deed\namong the people of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered griefs,\nremember it to me now, and tell me the truth.\"\nThen the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:\n\"Dear friend, since you have reminded me of the sorrow that in that\nland we endured, we unconquerable sons of the Achaeans,\nboth all that we wandered with our ships on the misty sea\nin plunder, wherever Achilles would lead,\nand all that we fought around the great city of lord Priam;\nand there in that place all the best men were slain.\nThere lies warlike Ajax, there lies Achilles,\nthere lies Patroclus, a counsellor like the gods,\nand there lies my own dear son, both strong and blameless,\nAntilochus, swift beyond all in running and a fighter;\nand many other evils we suffered besides those. Who among mortal men\ncould tell all of that?\nNot even if you stayed five years, or even six, asking,\nand asked all the evils the godlike Achaeans suffered there;\nyou would go home to your own land sick at heart before you heard all.\nFor nine years we kept contriving evils for them,\nwith all sorts of tricks, and hard it was for the son of Cronos to bring it to an end.\nThere no one ever wished to be likened to him in counsel\nface to face, since godlike Odysseus surpassed them by far\nwith all sorts of tricks — your father, if truly\nyou are his offspring; wonder holds me as I look at you.\nFor truly your words are like his; you would not think\na younger man could speak so like him.\nThere, while I and godlike Odysseus\nnever once spoke apart in assembly or in council,\nbut holding one spirit in mind and prudent counsel\nwe planned how things might go best for the Argives.\nBut when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,\nand gone into our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans,\nthen indeed Zeus devised in his heart a wretched homecoming\nfor the Argives, since not all were understanding or just;\ntherefore many of them met an evil doom\nfrom the baneful wrath of the bright-eyed goddess, daughter of a mighty father.\nFor she set strife between the two sons of Atreus.\nThe two called an assembly of all the Achaeans,\nfoolishly, and not in order, at the setting of the sun,\nand the sons of the Achaeans came heavy with wine,\nand they told their words, for which they had gathered the host.\nThere Menelaus urged all the Achaeans\nto remember their homecoming on the broad back of the sea,\nbut it did not please Agamemnon at all; for he wished\nto hold back the host and offer holy hecatombs,\nso that he might cure the terrible anger of Athena —\nfool, he did not know that she was not to be persuaded;\nfor the mind of the ever-living gods is not quickly turned.\nSo the two stood exchanging harsh words,\nand the well-greaved Achaeans leapt up\nwith a wondrous cry, and the counsel was divided among them.\nAll that night we passed in wakefulness, devising hard things\nagainst one another; for Zeus was preparing a pain of evil.\nAt dawn we dragged some ships into the bright sea\nand put in our possessions and the deep-girdled women.\nBut half the host was held back, waiting\nthere beside Atreus' son Agamemnon, shepherd of the people;\nand half of us embarked and sailed; and the ships\nsailed very swiftly, and a god smoothed the great-gulfed sea.\nComing to Tenedos we offered holy rites to the gods,\nlonging for home; but Zeus did not yet purpose our return,\ncruel one, who stirred up wicked strife for the second time.\nSome turned back their curved ships\naround lord Odysseus, the warlike, the many-devising,\ngoing back again to please Atreus' son Agamemnon;\nbut I fled with my gathered ships, as many as followed me,\nsince I knew that the god was devising evils.\nThe warlike son of Tydeus fled too, and roused his comrades.\nAnd late indeed fair-haired Menelaus came after us,\nand in Lesbos he found us, as we pondered the long voyage,\nwhether we should sail above rugged Chios,\npast the island of Psyria, keeping it on our left,\nor beneath Chios, past windy Mimas.\nWe asked the god to show a sign; and he showed it to us,\nand commanded us to cut across the middle of the sea to Euboea,\nso that we might escape our trouble as quickly as possible.\nAnd a shrill fair wind rose up to blow; and the ships\nran swiftly over the fish-filled paths, and at Geraestus\nthey put in by night; and to Poseidon\nwe set many thigh-pieces of bulls, having measured the great sea.\nIt was the fourth day, when in Argos the comrades\nof Tydeus' son, Diomedes, tamer of horses,\nwere mooring the trim ships; but I held on toward Pylos, and never\ndid the fair wind cease, once the god first sent it to blow.\nSo I came, dear child, knowing nothing, and I know nothing\nof those others, which of the Achaeans were saved and which perished.\nBut all that I have learned sitting in my own halls,\nas is right, you shall know, and I will not hide it from you.\nThey say the Myrmidons, spearmen, came home safely,\nwhom the glorious son of great-hearted Achilles led,\nand Philoctetes too, the glorious son of Poeas.\nAnd Idomeneus brought all his comrades back to Crete,\nwho had escaped from the war, and the sea took none of them from him.\nBut of the son of Atreus you yourselves hear, even being far off,\nhow he came home, and how Aegisthus devised his wretched death.\nBut truly that man paid for it most miserably;\nso it is a good thing that a son be left behind when a man\nhas died, since even he took vengeance on the father-killer,\nthe crafty Aegisthus, who killed his glorious father.\nAnd you, dear friend — for I see you are both handsome and tall —\nbe brave, so that some one of men born after you may speak well of you.\nThen prudent Telemachus answered him and said:\n\"Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans,\nindeed that man took great vengeance, and the Achaeans\nwill carry his wide fame for men to come to hear.\nIf only the gods would put such strength around me,\nto take vengeance on the suitors for their grievous outrage,\nwho, insolent, devise reckless things against me.\nBut the gods have not spun such prosperity for me,\nfor my father and for me; and now I must endure it all the same.\"\nThen the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:\n\"Dear friend, since you have reminded me of these things and spoken of them,\nthey say that many suitors, for the sake of your mother,\nin your halls, against your will, are devising evil.\nTell me, are you willingly subdued, or do the people\nhate you throughout the land, following the voice of a god?\nAnd who knows whether he might someday come and avenge these outrages,\neither he alone, or even all the Achaeans together?\nIf only the bright-eyed Athena were willing to love you,\nas she once cared for glorious Odysseus\nin the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered pains —\nfor I never yet saw gods loving a man so openly,\nas Pallas Athena stood openly beside him —\nif she were so willing to love you and care for you in her heart,\nthen some of those men would forget their marriage.\nThen prudent Telemachus answered her and said:\n\"Old man, I do not think this word will be accomplished;\nfor you have spoken far too greatly; amazement holds me. For me\nthese things would not happen even as I hoped, not even if the gods willed it so.\"\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"Telemachus, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth!\nEasily a god, if willing, could save a man even from far away.\nI myself would wish, even after suffering many pains,\nto come home and see the day of my return,\nrather than to perish at home after coming back, as Agamemnon\nperished by the trick of Aegisthus and of his own wife.\nBut truly, death that is common to all, not even the gods\ncan ward off from a man they love, when once\nthe destructive fate of long-drawn death lays hold of him.\"\nThen prudent Telemachus answered her and said:\n\"Mentor, let us no longer speak of these things, though we care;\nfor his homecoming is no longer true, but already\nthe immortals have planned death and black doom for him.\nBut now I wish to ask and question another matter\nof Nestor, since he knows about judgments and the wisdom of others beyond all;\nfor they say he has ruled over three generations of men;\nso he seems to me like an immortal to look upon.\nNestor, son of Neleus, speak the truth to me:\nhow did Atreus' son, wide-ruling Agamemnon, die?\nWhere was Menelaus? And what death did he devise for him,\nAegisthus the crafty, since he killed one far better?\nWas he not in Argos of the Achaeans, but wandering somewhere else\namong men, and Aegisthus, taking courage, killed him?\"\nThen the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:\n\"For my part, my child, I will tell you all truthfully.\nTruly you yourself know how these things turned out,\nif you found Aegisthus alive in his halls,\nwhen the son of Atreus came from Troy, fair-haired Menelaus;\nfor no one would have heaped a mound of earth over him even dead,\nbut the dogs and the birds of prey would have torn him apart\nas he lay on the plain far from the city, and none\nof the Achaean women would have wept for him; for he devised a very great deed.\nFor we, while accomplishing many labors there,\nsat idle; but he, at ease in a corner of horse-pastured Argos,\nkept charming Agamemnon's wife with many words.\nAt first she refused the shameful deed,\ndivine Clytemnestra; for she had good sense in her mind;\nand there was also a singer with her, a man whom the son of Atreus\nhad charged much when he went to Troy, to guard his wife.\nBut when the fate of the gods bound her to be subdued,\nthen he led the singer to a desert island\nand left him to become prey and plunder for the birds,\nand he led her away, willing to a willing woman, to his own house.\nAnd he burned many thigh-pieces on the holy altars of the gods,\nand hung up many ornaments, woven things and gold,\nhaving accomplished a great deed, which he never hoped for in his heart.\nFor we sailed together, coming from Troy,\nthe son of Atreus and I, knowing friendly thoughts toward one another;\nbut when we came to holy Sunium, the headland of the Athenians,\nthere Phoebus Apollo, with his gentle arrows,\ncame upon and killed Menelaus' steersman,\nas he held the steering-oar in his hands on the running ship,\nPhrontis, son of Onetor, who surpassed the tribes of men\nin steering a ship, whenever the storm-winds rushed on.\nSo he was held there, though eager for the journey,\nto bury his comrade and perform the funeral rites.\nBut when he too, going on the wine-dark sea\nin his hollow ships, reached the steep mountain of Malea\nas he ran, then far-thundering Zeus planned for him\na hateful journey, and poured down a blast of shrill winds,\nand monstrous waves swelled, equal to mountains.\nThere he divided them, and drove some toward Crete,\nwhere the Cydonians dwelt about the streams of Iardanus.\nThere is a certain sheer rock, steep into the sea,\nat the border of Gortyn, in the misty sea;\nthere the South Wind drives the great wave toward the left-hand headland,\ntoward Phaestos, and a small stone holds off the great wave.\nSome ships came there, and with effort the men escaped destruction,\nbut the waves broke the ships against the rocks;\nand the five dark-prowed ships the wind and the water\ncarried and drove to Egypt.\nSo he, gathering much substance and gold there,\nwandered with his ships among men of other tongues;\nand meanwhile Aegisthus devised these evil things at home.\nFor seven years he ruled over gold-rich Mycenae,\nafter killing the son of Atreus, and the people were subdued under him.\nBut in the eighth year godlike Orestes brought an evil upon him,\ncoming back from Athens, and he killed the father-killer,\nthe crafty Aegisthus, who killed his glorious father.\nAnd he, having killed him, feasted the Argives at the funeral\nof his hateful mother and of the cowardly Aegisthus;\nand on the same day Menelaus, good at the war-cry, came to him,\nbringing many treasures, as many as his ships had carried as cargo.\nAnd you, dear friend, do not long wander far from your halls,\nleaving your treasures and the men in your house\nso insolent, lest they devour all your\npossessions, dividing them, and you go on a fruitless journey.\nBut I bid and command you to go to Menelaus;\nfor he has just come from elsewhere,\nfrom those men, from where no one in his heart would hope\nto come, whom the storm-winds first swept off course\ninto such a great sea, from where not even birds\ngo in a year, since it is great and terrible.\nBut go now with your ship and your comrades;\nor if you wish to go on foot, a chariot and horses are here for you,\nand my sons are here, who will be your escorts\nto godlike Lacedaemon, where fair-haired Menelaus is.\nEntreat him yourself, so that he may tell you the truth;\nhe will not speak a lie, for he is very wise.\"\nSo he spoke, and the sun set and darkness came.\nAnd among them the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, spoke:\n\"Old man, truly you have told all this fittingly;\nbut come now, cut out the tongues and mix the wine,\nso that after pouring libations to Poseidon and the other immortals\nwe may think of sleep; for this is the hour for it.\nFor already the light has gone beneath the darkness, and it is not fitting\nto sit long at the feast of the gods, but to go home.\"\nSo spoke the daughter of Zeus, and they listened as she spoke.\nAnd the heralds poured water over their hands,\nand the young men filled the mixing bowls to the brim with drink,\nand they distributed it to all, pouring the first drops into the cups;\nand they threw the tongues into the fire, and standing up poured libations.\nBut when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,\nthen Athena and godlike Telemachus\nboth were eager to go to the hollow ship.\nBut Nestor again held them back, addressing them with words:\n\"May Zeus avert that, and the other immortal gods,\nthat you should go from me to your swift ship\nlike one who is utterly without clothing and poor,\nwho has no cloaks and no many rugs in his house,\nto sleep softly, neither himself nor for his guests.\nBut I have cloaks and beautiful rugs.\nSurely the dear son of this man Odysseus\nshall not lie down on the ship's deck planks, while I\nlive, and afterwards children are left in my halls,\nto entertain strangers, whoever comes to my house.\"\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"You have spoken well, dear old man; and it is fitting\nfor Telemachus to obey you, since so it is far better.\nBut he will now follow you, that he may sleep\nin your halls; but I will go to the black ship,\nto encourage my comrades and tell them each thing.\nFor I claim to be the eldest among them;\nand the others who follow are younger men in friendship,\nall of the same age as great-hearted Telemachus.\nThere I would lie down beside the hollow black ship\nnow; but at dawn I go to the great-hearted Cauconians,\nwhere a debt is owed to me, not a new one\nand not a small one. But do you, since he has come to your house,\nsend him with a chariot and your son; and give him horses,\nthe lightest for running and the best in strength.\"\nSo speaking, bright-eyed Athena departed,\nlikened to a sea-eagle; and wonder seized all who saw.\nThe old man marveled, as he saw with his eyes;\nand he took Telemachus' hand, and spoke a word and named him:\n\"Dear friend, I do not expect you to be a coward and a weakling,\nif indeed the gods follow you as guides when you are so young.\nFor none of these others who hold Olympian homes is such,\nbut this is the daughter of Zeus, the most glorious Tritogeneia,\nwho also honored your noble father among the Argives.\nBut, lady, be gracious, and grant me good glory,\nto me and my children and my revered wife;\nand I will sacrifice to you a yearling heifer, broad-browed,\nunbroken, whom no man has yet led under the yoke;\nher I will sacrifice to you, pouring gold over her horns.\"\nSo he spoke praying, and Pallas Athena heard him.\nAnd the Gerenian horseman Nestor led the way for them,\nfor his sons and sons-in-law, to his beautiful house.\nBut when they came to the glorious house of that lord,\nthey sat down in order on the benches and chairs;\nand the old man mixed a bowl for them as they came,\nof sweet wine, which in the eleventh year\nthe housekeeper opened and loosed the lid from;\nfrom it the old man mixed a bowl, and poured many libations\nand prayed to Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis.\nBut when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,\neach went to his own house to lie down;\nand the Gerenian horseman Nestor put him to bed there,\nTelemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus,\nin a pierced bed under the echoing portico,\nand beside him Pisistratus of the good spear, leader of men,\nwho was still unmarried among the sons in the halls;\nand he himself slept in the inner part of the lofty house,\nand his wife, the mistress, made ready the bed and bedding for him.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthe Gerenian horseman Nestor rose from his bed,\nand going out he sat down on the polished stones,\nwhich were before the lofty doors,\nwhite, gleaming with oil; on these Neleus\nused to sit before, a counsellor like the gods;\nbut he had already gone to Hades, subdued by death,\nand now Gerenian Nestor sat there, the guardian of the Achaeans,\nholding a scepter. And his sons gathered in a crowd around him,\ncoming from their chambers, Echephron and Stratius\nand Perseus and Aretus and godlike Thrasymedes.\nAnd sixth after them came the hero Pisistratus,\nand they brought and seated godlike Telemachus beside them.\nAnd the Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak among them:\n\"Quickly, dear children, fulfill my wish,\nso that first of all I may propitiate Athena among the gods,\nwho came to me clearly, to the rich feast of the god.\nBut come, let one go to the plain for a cow, so that as quickly as possible\nit may come, and let the herdsman of the cattle drive it;\nand let another go to great-hearted Telemachus' black ship\nand bring all his comrades, leaving two behind only;\nand let another bid the goldsmith Laerces come here,\nso that he may pour gold around the cow's horns.\nAnd let the rest of you stay here together, and tell the maidservants\nwithin the glorious house to prepare a feast,\nand to bring seats and wood around, and bright water.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all hurried to work. The cow came\nfrom the plain, and the comrades of great-hearted Telemachus\ncame from the swift trim ship, and the smith came\nholding in his hands the bronze tools, the instruments of his craft,\nan anvil and a hammer and well-made tongs,\nwith which he worked the gold; and Athena came\nto meet the holy rites. And the old charioteer Nestor\ngave the gold; and he then poured it around the cow's horns,\nworking it skillfully, so that the goddess might rejoice to see the ornament.\nAnd Stratius and godlike Echephron led the cow by the horns.\nAnd Aretus came from the chamber bringing water for the hands\nin a flowered basin, and in his other hand he held barley-groats\nin a basket; and Thrasymedes, steadfast in battle,\nstood beside him holding a sharp axe in his hand, to strike the cow.\nAnd Perseus held the blood-bowl; and the old charioteer Nestor\nbegan with the water for the hands and the barley-groats, and prayed much\nto Athena, making the first offering, and threw the hairs from the head into the fire.\nBut when they had prayed and thrown forward the barley-groats,\nat once the high-spirited son of Nestor, Thrasymedes,\nstruck, standing near; and the axe cut through the tendons\nof the neck, and loosed the cow's strength. And the women cried out,\nthe daughters and daughters-in-law and the revered wife\nof Nestor, Eurydice, eldest of the daughters of Clymenus.\nThen the men raised the cow from the broad-wayed earth\nand held it; and Pisistratus, leader of men, cut its throat.\nAnd when the black blood had flowed out and the spirit left the bones,\nat once they cut it up, and quickly cut out the thigh-pieces\nall in order, and covered them with fat,\nmaking a double layer, and laid raw pieces on top.\nAnd the old man burned them on split wood, and poured gleaming wine\nover them; and the young men stood beside him with five-pronged forks in their hands.\nBut when the thighs were burned and they had tasted the innards,\nthey chopped the rest and pierced it on spits,\nand roasted them, holding the sharp-pointed spits in their hands.\nMeanwhile beautiful Polycaste bathed Telemachus,\nthe youngest daughter of Nestor, son of Neleus.\nAnd when she had bathed him and anointed him richly with oil,\nshe threw a beautiful cloak and tunic around him,\nand he stepped from the bath, in body like the immortals;\nand he went and sat down beside Nestor, shepherd of the people.\nAnd when they had roasted the upper meats and drawn them off,\nthey sat and feasted; and noble men rose up\nto pour wine in golden cups.\nBut when they had put away the desire for drink and food,\nthe Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak among them:\n\"My sons, come, yoke the fair-maned horses for Telemachus\nand bring them under the chariot, so that he may go on his journey.\"\nSo he spoke, and they heard him and obeyed,\nand quickly yoked the swift horses under the chariot.\nAnd the housekeeper woman put in grain and wine\nand delicacies, such as Zeus-nurtured kings eat.\nAnd Telemachus stepped up into the beautiful chariot,\nand beside him Pisistratus, son of Nestor, leader of men,\nstepped up into the chariot and took the reins in his hands,\nand whipped them to go, and the two flew not unwillingly\ninto the plain, and left the steep citadel of Pylos.\nAnd all day long they shook the yoke, holding it on either side.\nAnd the sun set and all the streets were shadowed,\nand they came to Pherae, to the house of Diocles,\nson of Ortilochus, whom Alpheus begot as his child.\nThere they passed the night, and he set guest-gifts before them.\nAnd when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthey yoked the horses and mounted the painted chariot;\nand they drove out from the gateway and the echoing portico;\nand he whipped them to go, and the two flew not unwillingly.\nAnd they came to the wheat-bearing plain, and there\nthey finished the journey; for so the swift horses carried them.\nAnd the sun set and all the streets were shadowed.\n\n### Book 4\n\nSo they came to hollow Lacedaemon, land of deep ravines,\nand drove up to the house of glorious Menelaus.\nThey found him feasting at a wedding in the midst of many kinsmen,\nfor his son and his blameless daughter, in his own house.\nThe girl he was sending to the son of Achilles, breaker of men —\nfor in Troy he had first promised and nodded his assent\nto give her, and now the gods were bringing the marriage to fulfilment.\nSo he was sending her there with horses and chariots to journey\nto the famous city of the Myrmidons, over whom he ruled.\nAnd for his son he was bringing a bride from Sparta, the daughter of Alector,\neven Megapenthes the strong, who was born to him in his old age\nof a slave woman; and for Helen the gods no longer showed offspring,\nsince she had first borne a lovely child,\nHermione, who had the beauty of golden Aphrodite.\nSo these feasted throughout the great high-roofed hall,\nthe neighbours and the clansmen of glorious Menelaus,\ntaking their pleasure; and among them a divine bard sang\nplaying the lyre, and two tumblers whirled\nthrough their midst while the song began.\nBut the two others in the porch of the house, the two men with their horses,\nthe hero Telemachus and Nestor's splendid son,\nhalted there; and lord Eteoneus came out and saw them,\nthe ready squire of glorious Menelaus,\nand he went through the halls to tell the shepherd of the people,\nand standing near him he spoke winged words:\n\"Two strangers are here, Zeus-fostered Menelaus,\ntwo men, and by birth they are like the sons of great Zeus.\nBut tell me: shall we unyoke their swift horses,\nor send them on to another who may welcome them?\"\nThen, greatly vexed, fair-haired Menelaus answered him:\n\"You were no fool before, Boethous' son Eteoneus,\nbut now you talk like a child, like a senseless boy.\nSurely the two of us came here having eaten many a guest-gift\nat other men's tables — if ever Zeus\nshall grant that we cease from sorrow hereafter. So unyoke\nthe strangers' horses, and lead the men in to feast.\"\nSo he spoke, and the other darted through the hall and called\nthe other ready squires to follow him.\nThey loosed the sweating horses from beneath the yoke\nand tied them to the mangers of the stable,\nand threw spelt before them and mixed white barley,\nand leaned the chariot against the gleaming porch,\nand led the men into the divine house. And they, seeing it,\nmarvelled throughout the house of the Zeus-fostered king:\nfor like the radiance of the sun or the moon\nwas the high-roofed house of glorious Menelaus.\nBut when they had taken their fill of gazing with their eyes,\nthey stepped into the polished bathing tubs and bathed.\nAnd when the maidservants had washed them and anointed them with oil,\nand thrown fleecy cloaks and tunics about them,\nthey sat down on chairs beside Atreus' son Menelaus.\nAnd a handmaid brought a pitcher and poured water over\na fair golden basin set above a silver one,\nfor them to wash; and she drew up a polished table beside them.\nAnd the honoured housekeeper brought and set out bread,\nadding many dishes, giving freely of what was there.\nAnd the carver lifted and set before them platters of flesh\nof every kind, and placed golden cups beside them.\nAnd greeting them, fair-haired Menelaus spoke:\n\"Fall to your food, and welcome. Then, afterwards,\nwhen you have tasted dinner, we will ask who you are\namong men; for your parents' race has not perished,\nbut you are of the race of Zeus-fostered kings\nwho bear the sceptre — for base men could not father such as you.\"\nSo he spoke, and set before them the fat back of an ox,\nroasted, taking it in his hands — the portion they had set aside for him.\nAnd they reached out their hands to the ready food lying before them.\nBut when they had put away desire for drink and food,\nthen Telemachus spoke to Nestor's son,\ndrawing his head close, so that the others might not hear:\n\"Look, son of Nestor, dear to my heart —\nthe flashing of bronze through the echoing halls,\nand of gold and amber and silver and ivory.\nSuch, I think, must be the court of Olympian Zeus within,\nso many and unspeakable are these things; awe takes hold of me as I look.\"\nAnd fair-haired Menelaus heard him speaking,\nand spoke aloud and addressed them with winged words:\n\"Dear children, no mortal could rival Zeus —\nfor his house and his possessions are immortal.\nBut among men, one may rival me in possessions, or may not.\nFor after much suffering and much wandering,\nI brought them home in my ships and came back in the eighth year,\ndriven far to Cyprus and Phoenicia and the Egyptians,\nand I reached the Ethiopians and the Sidonians and the Erembi,\nand Libya, where the lambs are born horned at once.\nFor there the flocks bear young three times in the full year.\nAnd there neither master nor shepherd is in want\nof cheese or flesh or sweet milk,\nbut they always provide milk to draw the whole year through.\nWhile I wandered there, gathering a great livelihood,\nmeanwhile another man killed my brother,\nsecretly, unwittingly, by the guile of his accursed wife.\nSo it is not with joy that I rule over these possessions.\nAnd these things you are likely to have heard from your fathers,\nwhoever they are — since I suffered very much, and lost my house,\na house very well established, holding many good things.\nIf only I dwelt in my halls with a third part of it,\nand those men were safe, who then perished\nin wide Troy, far from horse-pasturing Argos.\nBut still, mourning and grieving for them all,\noften as I sit in my halls,\nat one time I gladden my heart with lamentation, at another\nI cease; for there comes swiftly a surfeit of chilly grief.\nFor all of them I do not grieve so much, grieving as I am,\nas for one man, who makes sleep hateful to me and food,\nwhen I remember him — for no other Achaean toiled so much,\nas much as Odysseus toiled and endured. And yet for him\nsorrows were to come, and for me grief ever unforgotten\nfor that man, that he is so long gone, and we do not know\nwhether he is alive or dead. And surely they mourn him,\nold Laertes and wise-hearted Penelope\nand Telemachus, whom he left a newborn in his house.\"\nSo he spoke, and roused in the other a longing to weep for his father.\nHe let a tear fall from his eyelids to the ground at hearing of his father,\nholding up his purple cloak before his eyes\nwith both hands. And Menelaus marked him,\nand then pondered in his heart and in his spirit\nwhether he should let him remember his father himself,\nor first question him and try him on each thing.\nWhile he was turning these things over in his heart and spirit,\nout of her fragrant high-roofed chamber came Helen,\nlooking like Artemis of the golden distaff.\nAnd with her Adreste set out a well-made chair,\nand Alcippe brought a rug of soft wool,\nand Phylo brought a silver basket, which Alcandra had given her,\nthe wife of Polybus, who lived in Egyptian Thebes,\nwhere the greatest wealth lies in the houses;\nhe gave Menelaus two silver bathing tubs,\nand two tripods, and ten talents of gold.\nAnd separately Helen, his wife, gave him beautiful gifts:\na golden distaff she gave him and a wheeled basket\nof silver, whose rims were fitted with gold.\nThis the handmaid Phylo brought and set beside her,\nstuffed with finely wrought yarn; and upon it\nthe distaff lay outstretched, holding violet-dark wool.\nShe sat down in the chair, and a footstool was under her feet.\nAnd at once she questioned her husband on each thing:\n\"Do we know, Zeus-fostered Menelaus, who these men are\nwho claim to have come to our house?\nShall I lie, or shall I speak the truth? My heart bids me.\nFor I say I have never yet seen anyone so like —\nneither man nor woman — awe takes hold of me as I look —\nas this man is like the son of great-hearted Odysseus,\nTelemachus, whom that man left a newborn in his house,\nwhen for my sake, shameless dog that I am, the Achaeans\ncame beneath Troy, bent on daring war.\"\nThen fair-haired Menelaus answered her:\n\"I too now think, lady, just as you guess.\nFor such were his feet, such were his hands,\nand the glances of his eyes, and the head, and the hair above it.\nAnd just now, remembering Odysseus,\nI was telling of all that he suffered and toiled\nfor my sake, and he let a bitter tear fall beneath his brows,\nholding up his purple cloak before his eyes.\"\nThen Nestor's son Peisistratus spoke in answer:\n\"Zeus-fostered Menelaus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,\nthis man is truly that man's son, as you say;\nbut he is prudent, and is ashamed in his heart\nto come here and at first display his speeches\nface to face with you, whose voice delights us like a god's.\nBut Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, sent me out\nto follow with him as escort; for he longed to see you,\nso that you might put some word or some deed in his mind.\nFor many sorrows has the son of a father who is gone\nin his halls, when he has no other helpers,\nas now for Telemachus — his father is gone, and there are no others\nin the district who might ward off ruin from him.\"\nThen fair-haired Menelaus answered him:\n\"Oh, surely the son of a dear man has come to my house,\nthe man who toiled many labours for my sake.\nAnd I said I would love him above the other\nArgives if he came, if over the sea Olympian wide-thundering Zeus\ngranted that a homecoming in our swift ships should be ours.\nAnd I would have settled a city for him in Argos and built him a house,\nbringing him from Ithaca with his possessions and his son\nand all his people, after laying waste one city\nof those that lie around and are ruled by me.\nAnd we would often mingle here together; and nothing\nwould have parted us, loving each other and taking joy,\nuntil the dark cloud of death covered us over.\nBut that, I suppose, some god himself was going to begrudge,\nthe god who made that wretched man, alone, never to come home.\"\nSo he spoke, and roused in them all a longing to weep.\nArgive Helen wept, daughter of Zeus,\nand Telemachus wept, and Atreus' son Menelaus,\nnor did Nestor's son keep his eyes unwet;\nfor he remembered blameless Antilochus in his heart,\nwhom the splendid son of shining Dawn had killed.\nRemembering him, he spoke winged words:\n\"Son of Atreus, old Nestor used to say\nthat you were the wisest of mortals beyond all others,\nwhenever we spoke of you in his halls\nand talked with one another.\nAnd now, if it may be, listen to me; for I at least\ntake no pleasure in weeping after dinner, but early-born\ndawn will come; and I would not begrudge\nweeping for any mortal who dies and meets his fate.\nFor this is the only honour for wretched mortals:\nto cut the hair and let a tear fall from the cheeks.\nFor my own brother too is dead, and no worst man\namong the Argives — you must know of him; for I at least\nnever met him or saw him; but they say Antilochus\nwas foremost of the others both at running and in battle.\"\nThen fair-haired Menelaus answered him:\n\"Dear friend, since you have said what a wise man\nwould say and do, even one who was older born —\nfor of such a father are you, and you speak wisely —\neasily is a man's offspring known, when the son of Cronus\nspins prosperity for him at his marriage and at his birth,\nas he has now given to Nestor through all his days:\nthat he himself grow sleekly old in his halls,\nand his sons again be wise and best with the spear.\nBut let us leave the weeping that has just now been,\nand let us turn our minds again to dinner, and let them pour\nwater over our hands. Speeches too there will be\nat dawn, for Telemachus and me to speak over with one another.\"\nSo he spoke, and Asphalion poured water over their hands,\nthe ready squire of glorious Menelaus.\nAnd they reached out their hands to the ready food lying before them.\nThen Helen, daughter of Zeus, thought of another thing:\nat once she cast a drug into the wine they were drinking,\na drug that takes away grief and anger and brings forgetfulness of all evils.\nWhoever swallowed it down, once it was mixed in the bowl,\ncould not let a tear fall down his cheeks that day,\nnot even if his mother and father both died,\nnor if before his eyes his brother or dear son\nwere butchered with bronze, and he watched it with his eyes.\nSuch were the cunning drugs the daughter of Zeus had,\ngood ones, which Polydamna gave her, the wife of Thon,\nan Egyptian — for there the grain-giving earth bears most\ndrugs, many good ones mixed in, and many baneful;\nand every man there is a physician knowing more than all\nother men; for they are of the race of Paeon.\nBut when she had put it in and told them to pour the wine,\nagain she spoke and answered them with words:\n\"Zeus-fostered Menelaus, son of Atreus, and you here,\nsons of good men — for Zeus gives good and evil\nto one man at one time, to another at another; he can do all things —\ncome now, sit and feast in the halls\nand take your pleasure in talk; for I will tell you fitting things.\nAll of them I could not tell over or name,\nas many labours as there are of Odysseus, the enduring man;\nbut such a thing as this that strong man did and endured\nin the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered woes.\nHe beat his own body with unseemly blows,\nthrew a wretched rag about his shoulders, looking like a slave,\nand crept into the wide-streeted city of the enemy men;\nand hiding himself, he likened himself to another man,\na beggar, one who was nothing like that among the Achaean ships.\nLike him he entered the city of the Trojans, and they all\nwere speechless; but I alone recognized him as he was,\nand questioned him; but he turned aside in his cunning.\nBut when I had bathed him and rubbed him with oil,\nand dressed him in clothes and swore a strong oath\nnot to reveal Odysseus among the Trojans before\nhe reached the swift ships and the huts,\nthen he told me the whole mind of the Achaeans.\nAnd after killing many of the Trojans with the long-pointed bronze\nhe came back to the Argives, bringing much knowledge.\nThen the other Trojan women wailed shrilly; but my own heart\nrejoiced, since my mind had already turned to going\nhome again, and I grieved for the folly that Aphrodite\ngave me, when she led me there from my own dear fatherland,\nabandoning my child and my bridal chamber and my husband,\nwho lacked nothing in wits or in beauty.\"\nThen fair-haired Menelaus answered her:\n\"Yes, indeed, lady, you have told all this as is fitting.\nFor I have learned the counsel and the mind of many\nheroic men, and I have travelled over much land;\nbut never yet have I seen with my eyes such a one\nas was the dear heart of Odysseus the enduring.\nWhat a thing that strong man did and endured —\nin the polished horse, where we all sat, the best\nof the Argives, bringing slaughter and death to the Trojans.\nThen you came there; and some god was about to bid you,\nthe spirit that wished to give glory to the Trojans;\nand godlike Deiphobus followed you as you went.\nThree times you walked around the hollow ambush, feeling it with your hands,\nand you called out by name the best of the Danaans,\nmaking your voice like the voices of their wives.\nBut I and the son of Tydeus and brilliant Odysseus,\nsitting in the midst, heard how you cried out.\nThe two of us were eager, starting up, to rush out\nor to answer at once from within;\nbut Odysseus held us back and restrained us, eager as we were.\nThen all the other sons of the Achaeans were silent,\nbut Anticlus alone wished to answer you with words.\nBut Odysseus pressed his hand over his mouth\nrelentlessly with his strong hands, and saved all the Achaeans;\nand he held him so until Pallas Athena led you away.\"\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\n\"Zeus-fostered Menelaus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,\nthe worse for it; for none of that warded off his cruel destruction,\nnot even if his heart within were made of iron.\nBut come, turn us towards bed, so that we too at once\nmay lie down and take our pleasure in sweet sleep.\"\nSo he spoke, and Argive Helen told the maidservants\nto set up beds beneath the portico and throw on fine\npurple blankets, and spread rugs over them,\nand put fleecy cloaks on top for them to wear.\nAnd they went from the hall with torches in their hands,\nand made the beds; and a herald led the guests out.\nSo they slept there in the forecourt of the house,\nthe hero Telemachus and Nestor's splendid son;\nand Atreus' son slept in the inner corner of the lofty house,\nand beside him lay Helen of the long robes, shining among women.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\ngood at the war-cry Menelaus rose from his bed,\nput on his clothes, slung a sharp sword over his shoulder,\ntied fine sandals under his shining feet,\nand went from the chamber, like a god to look upon,\nand sat down beside Telemachus, and spoke a word and named him:\n\"What need has brought you here, hero Telemachus,\nto shining Lacedaemon, over the broad back of the sea?\nPublic business or your own? Tell me this truly.\"\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\n\"Zeus-fostered Menelaus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,\nI have come, in case you can tell me some report of my father.\nMy house is being eaten up, my rich fields are ruined,\nand my house is full of hostile men, who always\nslaughter my thronging sheep and my shambling crook-horned cattle —\nmy mother's suitors, holding overweening outrage.\nTherefore I now come as a suppliant to your knees, in case you are willing\nto tell me of that man's cruel destruction, if somewhere you have seen it\nwith your own eyes, or heard the word from another\nas he wandered; for his mother bore him for sorrow.\nAnd do not soothe me out of shame or pity,\nbut tell me well how you came upon the sight.\nI beg you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus,\nundertook and accomplished some word or some deed for you\nin the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered woes,\nremember those things now for me, and tell me truly.\"\nThen, greatly vexed, fair-haired Menelaus answered him:\n\"Oh no — so it is a mighty-hearted man's bed\nthat these weaklings wished to lie in!\nAs when in a thicket a deer has laid her newborn, milk-fed fawns\nto sleep, and ranges over the slopes and the grassy glens\nto feed, and then a strong lion comes to that bed of hers\nand brings an unseemly death on both of them —\nso will Odysseus bring an unseemly death on those men.\nI wish, father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,\nthat he were such as he once was in well-built Lesbos,\nwhen he stood up and wrestled in rivalry with Philomeleides,\nand threw him hard, and all the Achaeans rejoiced —\nsuch a man might Odysseus be among the suitors!\nThen all would be swift-fated and bitterly wedded.\nBut as for what you ask me and beg of me, I at least\nwill not speak otherwise, turning aside, nor will I deceive you,\nbut I will tell you what the old man of the sea told me, truthful as he is;\nnot one word of it will I hide from you or keep back.\n\"In Egypt the gods still held me there when I was eager to come home,\nbecause I had not offered them perfect hecatombs.\nFor the gods always wish men to remember their commands.\nThere is a certain island in the much-surging sea,\nin front of Egypt, and men call it Pharos,\nas far off as a hollow ship can travel\nin a whole day, when a shrill fair wind blows behind her.\nAnd in it there is a good harbour, from which men launch\ntheir equal ships into the sea after drawing dark water.\nThere the gods held me twenty days, and never did any fair winds\nappear blowing, the winds that are\nescorts of ships over the broad back of the sea.\nAnd now all my provisions would have perished and my men's strength,\nif one of the gods had not pitied me and saved me,\nthe daughter of mighty Proteus, the old man of the sea,\nEidothea; for I stirred her heart especially.\nShe met me as I wandered alone, apart from my companions;\nfor they were always wandering around the island fishing\nwith bent hooks, and hunger was wearing out their bellies.\nAnd she stood near me and spoke a word and said:\n'You are very foolish, stranger, and feeble-minded,\nor you give up willingly and take pleasure in suffering.\nHow long now are you held on the island, and you cannot\nfind any way out, and your companions' hearts are failing?\nSo she spoke, and I answered her and said:\n'I will tell you, whoever of the goddesses you are,\nthat I am not held here willingly, but surely I must\nhave offended the immortals who hold the wide heaven.\nBut do you tell me — the gods know all things —\nwhich of the immortals binds me and has bound me from my path,\nand how I shall go over the fish-filled sea.'\nSo I spoke, and the shining goddess answered at once:\n'Then I will tell you, stranger, very precisely.\nThere roams here a truthful old man of the sea,\nan immortal, Egyptian Proteus, who knows the depths\nof all the sea, and is a servant under Poseidon;\nand they say he is my father and begot me.\nIf you could somehow lie in wait and seize him,\nhe would tell you your road and the measures of your journey,\nand how you shall go over the fish-filled sea.\nAnd he would tell you, Zeus-fostered one, if you are willing,\nwhatever evil and good has been done in your halls\nwhile you were gone on the long and painful road.'\nSo she spoke, and I answered her and said:\n'Now do you yourself plan the ambush of the divine old man,\nin case he sees me beforehand or knows beforehand and escapes;\nfor it is hard for a mortal man to overpower a god.'\nSo I spoke, and the shining goddess answered at once:\n'Then I will tell you, stranger, very precisely.\nWhen the sun has climbed to the middle of the sky,\nthen the truthful old man of the sea comes up from the brine\nunder the breath of the West Wind, hidden in dark rippling water,\nand coming out he sleeps under the hollow caves;\nand around him the seals, offspring of the fair sea-goddess,\nsleep in a herd, risen up from the gray sea,\nbreathing out the pungent smell of the deep sea brine.\nThere I will lead you at dawn when it appears\nand lay you down in a row; and do you choose well three\ncompanions, the best of those beside your well-benched ships.\nAnd I will tell you all the treacherous tricks of that old man.\nFirst he will go and count the seals;\nand when he has reckoned them all by fives and looked them over,\nhe will lie down in the midst of them like a shepherd among his flocks of sheep.\nAnd as soon as you see him laid down to sleep,\nthen let your strength and force be ready,\nand hold him there struggling, eager as he is to escape.\nAnd he will try all things that creep\nupon the earth, and water and blazing fire;\nbut you must hold on unshaken and press him the more.\nBut when at last he himself questions you in words,\nbeing such as you saw him when he lay down,\nthen at last slacken your force and release the old man,\nhero, and ask him which of the gods is angry with you,\nand how you shall go over the fish-filled sea.\"\nSo speaking, she dove beneath the surging sea.\nBut I went to the ships, where they stood on the sands,\nmy provisions; and my heart churned greatly within me as I went.\nBut when I had come down to the ship and the sea,\nand we had made ready dinner, and immortal night came on,\nthen we lay down to sleep on the breakwater of the sea.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen indeed along the shore of the wide-pathed sea\nI went, praying much to the gods; and three of my companions\nI led, men in whom I trusted most in every way.\nMeanwhile she, diving under the broad bosom of the sea,\nbrought four sealskins up from the deep;\nall were newly flayed; and she was devising a trick against her father.\nAnd she had hollowed out beds in the sands of the shore,\nand sat waiting; and we came very close to her.\nAnd she laid us down in a row, and threw a hide over each.\nThere the ambush would have been most terrible; for it oppressed us dreadfully,\nthe most deadly stench of the sea-fed seals.\nFor who would lie down to sleep beside a sea-monster?\nBut she herself saved us and thought of a great help:\nshe brought ambrosia and put it under each man's nostrils,\nsmelling very sweet, and destroyed the stench of the monster.\nAnd all the morning we waited with enduring heart;\nand the seals came out of the sea in throngs. Then they\nlay down in rows along the breakwater of the sea;\nand at noon the old man came from the sea, and found the seals\nwell-fed, and went along all of them, and counted their number;\nand he counted us first among the monsters, and nothing in his heart\nsuspected there was a trick; then he too lay down.\nBut we rushed on him with a shout, and threw our arms\nabout him; and the old man did not forget his crafty art,\nbut first of all he became a deep-maned lion,\nand then a serpent and a leopard and a great boar;\nand he became wet water and a high-branched tree;\nbut we held on unshaken with enduring heart.\nBut when at last the old man, knowing treacherous things, grew weary,\nthen he questioned me with words and said:\n\"Who of the gods, son of Atreus, counselled these plans with you,\nthat you should take me unwilling by ambush? What do you need?\"\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and said:\n\"You know, old man, why you ask me these things, turning me aside.\nHow long now am I held on the island, and I cannot\nfind any way out, and my heart fails within me.\nBut do you tell me — the gods know all things —\nwhich of the immortals binds me and has bound me from my path,\nand how I shall go over the fish-filled sea.\"\nSo I spoke, and he answered me at once and said:\n\"Ah, but you should have offered fine sacrifices to Zeus\nand to the other gods before you embarked, so that you might come\nmost swiftly to your fatherland, sailing over the wine-dark sea.\nFor it is not your fate to see your friends and reach\nyour well-built home and your fatherland before\nyou go back to the waters of the river of Egypt, rain-fed,\nand offer sacred hecatombs\nto the immortal gods who hold the wide heaven;\nand then the gods will give you the journey you long for.\"\nSo he spoke, and my own dear heart was broken within me,\nbecause he told me to go back over the misty sea\nto Egypt, a long and painful journey.\nBut even so I answered him with words:\n\"That I will indeed perform, old man, just as you command.\nBut come, tell me this and relate it exactly:\ndid all the Achaeans come home unharmed in their ships,\nwhom Nestor and I left behind when we sailed from Troy,\nor did some perish by a cruel death on their own ship\nor in the hands of friends, after they had wound up the war?\"\nSo I spoke, and he answered me at once and said:\n\"Son of Atreus, why do you ask me these things? It is not for you\nto know them, nor to learn my mind; nor do I think\nyou will be long without weeping, once you hear it all well.\nFor many of them perished, and many were left behind;\nand of the leaders, only two of the bronze-clad Achaeans\nperished on the way home; and you yourself were present at the battle.\nAnd one more is still held alive, somewhere on the wide sea.\nAjax perished among his long-oared ships.\nFirst Poseidon drove him onto the Gyraean\nrocks, and saved him from the sea;\nand he would have escaped death, though Athena hated him,\nif he had not let fly a boastful word and been greatly blinded;\nhe said he had escaped the great gulf of the sea against the gods' will.\nAnd Poseidon heard him as he shouted aloud;\nat once then he took his trident in his strong hands\nand struck the Gyraean rock and split it apart;\nand one part stayed there, and the fragment fell into the sea,\non which Ajax had first sat and been greatly blinded;\nand it carried him over the boundless surging sea.\nSo he perished there, when he drank the salt water.\nBut your brother, I suppose, escaped the fates and got away\nin his hollow ships; and lady Hera saved him.\nBut when he was soon about to reach the steep\nmountain of Malea, then a storm snatched him up\nand carried him over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily,\nto the edge of the country, where Thyestes once\nhad his house, but then Thyestes' son Aegisthus lived there.\nBut when a safe homecoming appeared even from there,\nand the gods turned the wind about, and they came home,\nthen indeed he stepped gladly on his fatherland\nand touched and kissed his own land; and from him many\nhot tears poured, since he gladly saw the land.\nBut a watchman saw him from the lookout, whom\ncrafty Aegisthus had set there, and he promised him a wage,\ntwo talents of gold; and he kept watch for a year,\nin case he passed by unnoticed, and that he might remember his furious valour.\nAnd he went to the house to tell the shepherd of the people.\nAt once Aegisthus devised a cunning plan;\nchoosing twenty of the best men in the district\nhe set them in ambush, and elsewhere he ordered a feast to be prepared.\nThen he went to summon Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,\nwith horses and chariots, thinking unseemly thoughts.\nAnd he brought him up, unknowing of destruction, and killed him\nafter feasting him, as a man kills an ox at the manger.\nNor did any of Atreus' son's companions who followed him survive,\nnor any of Aegisthus' men, but they were killed in the halls.\nSo he spoke, and my own dear heart was broken within me,\nand I wept, sitting in the sands, and my heart\nno longer wished to live and see the light of the sun.\nBut when I had had my fill of weeping and rolling in the dust,\nthen the truthful old man of the sea spoke to me:\n\"No longer, son of Atreus, weep thus unceasingly for so long,\nsince we see no profit in it; but as quickly as you can,\ntry how you may reach your fatherland.\nFor either you will find him alive, or Orestes\nhas killed him first, and you will come upon his funeral.\"\nSo he spoke, and my heart and my proud spirit\nagain were warmed within my breast, though I was grieving,\nand I spoke aloud and addressed him with winged words:\n\"These I know of; but do you name a third man for me,\nwhoever is still held alive on the wide sea,\nor dead; and I wish to hear it, grieving as I am.\"\nSo I spoke, and he answered me at once and said:\n\"The son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.\nI saw him on an island, shedding a big tear,\nin the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him\nby force; and he cannot reach his fatherland;\nfor he has no oared ships and no companions,\nwho might send him over the broad back of the sea.\nBut for you, Zeus-fostered Menelaus, it is not fated\nto die in horse-pasturing Argos and meet your fate,\nbut the immortals will send you to the Elysian plain and the ends of the earth,\nwhere fair-haired Rhadamanthys is,\nwhere life is easiest for men.\nThere is no snow, no violent storm, no rain ever,\nbut always the breezes of the shrilly blowing West Wind\ndoes Ocean send up to refresh men;\nbecause you have Helen, and are the son-in-law of Zeus.\"\nSo speaking, he dove beneath the surging sea.\nBut I went to the ships with my godlike companions,\nand my heart churned greatly within me as I went.\nBut when we had come down to the ship and the sea,\nand we had made ready dinner, and immortal night came on,\nthen we lay down to sleep on the breakwater of the sea.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nfirst of all we dragged the ships into the shining salt sea,\nand set up masts and sails in the well-balanced ships,\nand we ourselves went aboard and sat down on the benches;\nand sitting in rows we struck the gray salt water with our oars.\nAnd back to the river of Egypt, rain-fed,\nI brought my ships to shore, and offered perfect hecatombs.\nBut when I had put an end to the anger of the gods who live forever,\nI heaped up a tomb for Agamemnon, so that his fame might be unquenchable.\nHaving finished these things, I sailed home, and the immortals\ngave me a fair wind, who sent me swiftly to my dear fatherland.\nBut come now, stay on in my halls,\nuntil the eleventh day and the twelfth day come;\nand then I will send you off well, and give you splendid gifts,\nthree horses and a well-smoothed chariot; and after that\nI will give you a beautiful cup, so that you may pour libations to the gods\nimmortal, remembering me all your days.\"\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\n\"Son of Atreus, do not hold me here for a long time.\nFor even for a year I would endure staying beside you,\nsitting here, and no longing for home or parents would seize me;\nfor I take great pleasure, hearing your tales and your words.\nBut already my companions are vexed for me\nin holy Pylos; and you are holding me here a long time.\nWhatever gift you give me, let it be a treasure;\nbut horses I will not take to Ithaca, but will leave them\nhere for you yourself, as an ornament; for you rule over\na wide plain, in which there is much clover, and galingale,\nand wheat and spelt and the broad-growing white barley.\nBut in Ithaca there are no wide courses nor any meadow;\nit is goat-pasturing, and more lovely even than horse-pasturing.\nFor no one of the islands that lean on the sea\nis fit for driving horses or rich in meadows; and Ithaca above all.\"\nSo he spoke, and good at the war-cry Menelaus smiled,\nand stroked him with his hand, and spoke a word and named him:\n\"Of good blood you are, dear child, by the words you speak.\nThen I will change these things for you; for I can.\nAnd of the gifts that lie as treasures in my house,\nI will give you the one that is most beautiful and most prized.\nI will give you a well-made mixing bowl; it is all\nof silver, and its rims are fitted with gold,\nthe work of Hephaestus. The hero Phaedimus,\nking of the Sidonians, gave it to me, when his house sheltered\nme as I came home there; and I wish to give it to you.\"\nSo the two of them spoke such things to each other,\nand the guests went into the halls of the divine king.\nThey brought sheep, and carried wine that gladdens men;\nand their fair-veiled wives sent them bread.\nSo these busied themselves with dinner in the halls.\nBut the suitors, in front of Odysseus' house,\nwere taking their pleasure with quoits and with throwing javelins\non the levelled floor, where they had done it before, in their outrage.\nAnd Antinous was sitting there, and godlike Eurymachus,\nthe leaders of the suitors, and they were far the best in valour.\nAnd to them Noemon, son of Phronius, came near\nand questioned Antinous and said to him:\n\"Antinous, do we know in our minds, or do we not,\nwhen Telemachus will sail back from sandy Pylos?\nHe has gone off, taking my ship with him; and I have need of it\nto cross over to spacious Elis, where I have\ntwelve mares, and strong mules beneath them,\nunbroken; I would like to drive one away and break it in.\"\nSo he spoke, and they were amazed in their hearts; for they did not think\nhe had gone to Neleian Pylos, but that he was somewhere\nthere in the fields with the sheep, or with the swineherd.\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:\n\"Tell me truly, when did he go, and which young men\nfollowed with him? Chosen ones of Ithaca, or his own\nhirelings and slaves? He could do even that.\nAnd tell me this truly, so that I may know well:\ndid he take the black ship from you by force, against your will,\nor did you give it willingly, since he asked you with words?\"\nThen Noemon, son of Phronius, answered him:\n\"I gave it to him willingly myself; what else could another do,\nwhen a man like that, having cares in his heart,\nasked for it? It would be hard to refuse the gift.\nAnd the young men who follow him are the ones who are best\nin the district among us; and I noticed their leader\ngoing aboard — Mentor, or a god, and he was altogether like him.\nBut this I marvel at: I saw divine Mentor here\nyesterday morning, and then he went aboard the ship for Pylos.\"\nSo speaking, he went off to his father's house,\nand the proud heart of both of them was vexed.\nAnd they made the suitors sit down together and stopped the contests.\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them,\nvexed; and his dark heart was greatly filled\nwith rage, and his two eyes were like blazing fire:\n\"Oh no, this journey of Telemachus has been accomplished\nin great and overweening fashion; and we said it would not be done.\nAgainst our will, the young boy has gone off just so,\nhaving dragged out a ship and chosen the best in the district.\nHe will begin to be a trouble even farther on; but may Zeus\ndestroy his strength himself, before he reaches the measure of manhood.\nBut come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions,\nso that I may lie in wait for him as he comes and keep watch\nin the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos,\nso that his voyage for his father will be a miserable one.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all approved and urged it on.\nAt once then they rose and went to Odysseus' house.\nNor was Penelope unaware for a long time\nof the words the suitors were brooding in their hearts;\nfor the herald Medon told her, who learned their counsels\nas he stood outside the courtyard; and they were weaving their plan within.\nAnd he went through the halls to tell Penelope;\nand as he crossed the threshold Penelope spoke to him:\n\"Herald, why did the proud suitors send you?\nIs it to tell the maidservants of divine Odysseus\nto stop their work and prepare a feast for them?\nMay they never woo again or meet together elsewhere,\nand may they now dine here for the last and final time —\nthey who gather here so often and cut down my great livelihood,\nthe property of wise Telemachus; and you never heard\nof your own fathers before, when you were children,\nwhat kind of man Odysseus was among your parents,\nnever doing or saying anything outrageous\nin the district — which is the way of divine kings;\none man he might hate, another he might love.\nBut that man never did anything reckless to any man.\nBut your temper and your unseemly deeds\nare plain, and there is no gratitude for benefits afterwards.\"\nThen Medon, knowing wise things, answered her:\n\"If only, my queen, this were the greatest evil.\nBut the suitors are planning something far greater\nand more painful, which may the son of Cronus not fulfil:\nthey mean to kill Telemachus with the sharp bronze\nas he comes home; and he has gone to hear of his father\nto holy Pylos and to shining Lacedaemon.\"\nSo he spoke, and her knees and her own heart gave way beneath her,\nand for a long while speechlessness at his words took hold of her; and her two eyes\nfilled with tears, and her full voice was checked.\nAnd at last she answered him and said:\n\"Herald, why has my son gone? He has no need\nto step aboard swift ships, which are horses of the sea\nfor men, and carry them over the great wet expanse.\nOr is it so that not even his name will be left among men?\"\nThen Medon, knowing wise things, answered her:\n\"I do not know whether some god roused him, or whether\nhis own heart urged him to go to Pylos, so that he might learn\nof his father, either his homecoming or what fate he has met.\"\nSo speaking, he went off through Odysseus' house.\nAnd heart-destroying grief was poured around her, and she no longer had the strength\nto sit on a chair, though many were in the house,\nbut she sat down on the threshold of the well-wrought chamber,\nwailing piteously; and around her the maidservants murmured,\nall of them, as many as were young and old in the halls.\nAnd Penelope, grieving shrilly, spoke among them:\n\"Listen, dear women; for the Olympian has given me sorrows\nbeyond all women, as many as were raised with me and born with me.\nI, who first lost my noble husband, a lion-hearted man,\nadorned with every kind of virtue among the Danaans,\na noble man, whose fame is wide through Hellas and mid-Argos.\nNow again a storm has snatched away my beloved son\nfrom the halls, without renown, and I did not hear of his setting out.\nCruel women, none of you in your hearts thought\nto wake me from my bed, knowing clearly in your hearts\nwhen that man went to the hollow black ship.\nFor if I had heard that he was planning that journey,\nthen even though he were eager for the road, he would have stayed,\nor he would have left me dead in the halls.\nBut let someone quickly call old Dolius,\nmy slave, whom my father gave me before I came here,\nand who keeps my orchard of many trees, so that as quickly as possible\nhe may sit beside Laertes and tell him all this,\nin case that man, weaving some plan in his heart,\nmay go out and complain to the people, who are resolved\nto destroy the offspring of him and of godlike Odysseus.\"\nThen her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:\n\"Dear child, you may kill me with the pitiless bronze,\nor let me live in the hall; I will not hide the word from you.\nI knew all this, and I gave him whatever he asked for,\nbread and sweet wine; but he took a great oath from me\nnot to tell you before the twelfth day had come,\nor before you yourself missed him and heard of his setting out,\nso that you would not weep and mar your fair skin.\nBut go wash yourself, put clean clothes on your body,\nand go up to the upper room with your waiting women,\nand pray to Athena, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis;\nfor she may then save him even from death.\nAnd do not afflict the old man, who is already afflicted; for I do not think\nthat the blessed gods altogether hate the offspring of Arcesius,\nbut there is still someone who will hold\nthe high-roofed house and the rich fields far away.\"\nSo she spoke, and lulled her weeping, and checked her eyes from tears.\nAnd she, washed, with clean clothes on her body,\nwent up to the upper room with her waiting women,\nand put barley groats in a basket, and prayed to Athena:\n\"Hear me, child of Zeus who holds the aegis, unwearied one,\nif ever Odysseus of many counsels in his halls\nburned for you the rich thighbones of an ox or a sheep,\nremember those now for me, and save my dear son,\nand drive away the suitors who wickedly overreach.\"\nSo speaking, she wailed aloud, and the goddess heard her prayer.\nAnd the suitors made an uproar through the shadowy halls;\nand thus one of the proud young men would say:\n\"Surely now the much-wooed queen is preparing\na wedding for us, and she does not know that death has been prepared for her son.\"\nSo one of them would say, but they did not know how it had been arranged.\nThen Antinous spoke to them and addressed them:\n\"Strange men, avoid all your overweening words\nalike, in case someone reports them even inside.\nBut come, let us rise in silence and carry out\nthe plan, which has pleased us all in our hearts.\"\nSo speaking, he chose twenty of the best men,\nand they went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.\nFirst of all they dragged the ship down into the depths of the salt sea,\nand set up the mast and the sails in the black ship,\nand fitted the oars in their leather thongs,\nall in order, and spread the white sails;\nand their high-hearted squires brought them their weapons.\nAnd they moored her out in the water, and went ashore themselves;\nand there they took dinner, and waited for evening to come.\nBut thoughtful Penelope lay up in her upper room,\nwithout food, without taste of meat or drink,\nturning over in her mind whether her blameless son would escape death,\nor whether he would be overpowered by the overweening suitors.\nAnd as many thoughts as a lion in a crowd of men\nturns over in fear, when they lead him in a treacherous circle,\nso many thoughts came over her, and then sweet sleep came on her;\nand she slept, leaning back, and all her limbs were loosed.\nThen the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, thought of another thing:\nshe made a phantom, and shaped it like a woman,\nIphthime, the daughter of great-hearted Icarius,\nwhom Eumelus married, living in Pherae.\nAnd she sent her to the house of divine Odysseus,\nso that she might make Penelope, mourning and wailing,\ncease from weeping and from tearful lamentation.\nShe came into the chamber by the thong of the door-bar,\nand stood above her head, and spoke a word to her:\n\"Are you sleeping, Penelope, with a heart grieved?\nThe gods who live at ease do not let you\nweep or be distressed, since your son is still\none who will come home; for he is not guilty in the eyes of the gods.\"\nThen thoughtful Penelope answered her,\nslumbering very sweetly at the gates of dreams:\n\"Sister, why have you come here? You never came here\nbefore, since you live very far away.\nAnd you bid me cease from my misery and my many\npains, which stir me in my heart and spirit —\nI, who first lost my noble husband, a lion-hearted man,\nadorned with every kind of virtue among the Danaans,\na noble man, whose fame is wide through Hellas and mid-Argos;\nnow again my beloved son has gone in a hollow ship,\na foolish boy, knowing nothing well of toils or of assemblies.\nFor him I grieve even more than for that other man;\nfor him I tremble and fear, in case something happens to him,\neither among the people where he has gone, or on the sea;\nfor many enemies are plotting against him,\neager to kill him before he reaches his fatherland.\"\nThen the dim phantom answered her and said:\n\"Take courage, and do not fear too greatly in your heart;\nfor such a guide goes with him, one whom other men\nalso have prayed to stand beside them, and she can,\nPallas Athena; and she pities you in your grief;\nshe it is who now sent me to tell you this.\"\nThen thoughtful Penelope answered her:\n\"If you are a god and have heard the voice of a god,\ncome then, tell me also of that wretched man,\nwhether he is still alive and sees the light of the sun,\nor whether he is already dead in the house of Hades.\"\nThen the dim phantom answered her and said:\n\"I will not tell you of that man at all exactly,\nwhether he lives or is dead; and it is wrong to speak empty words.\"\nSo speaking, it slipped away past the door-bar of the hall\ninto the blasts of the winds. And she started up from sleep,\nthe daughter of Icarius; and her own heart was warmed,\nsince the dream had come to her clearly in the dead of night.\nBut the suitors went aboard and sailed over the watery ways,\nplanning steep slaughter for Telemachus in their hearts.\nThere is a certain rocky island in the middle of the sea,\nbetween Ithaca and rugged Samos,\nAsteris, not large; and there are two harbours in it where ships can lie,\ndouble-mouthed; there the Achaeans lay in wait for him.\n\n### Book 5\n\nrosy-fingered Dawn rose up from her bed, from beside lordly Tithonus,\nto bring light to the deathless gods and to mortal men;\nand the gods were taking their seats in assembly, and among them\nwas Zeus who thunders on high, whose power is greatest of all.\nAnd among them Athena was recounting the many sorrows of Odysseus,\nremembering him; for she grieved that he dwelt in the halls of the nymph.\n\"Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,\nlet no sceptered king hereafter be kindly, gentle, and mild,\nnor one who knows righteous things within his heart;\nbut let him always be harsh and do deeds of outrage,\nsince no one remembers godlike Odysseus,\nof the peoples he ruled — and he was gentle as a father.\nBut he lies on an island, suffering mighty sorrows,\nin the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him by force\nand will not let him go; and he cannot reach his own fatherland,\nfor he has no oared ships beside him, nor companions\nwho might send him over the broad back of the sea.\nAnd now they are eager to slay his dear son\nas he comes home; and he went to seek tidings of his father\nto holy Pylos and to shining Lacedaemon.\"\nThen the cloud-gatherer Zeus answered her and said:\n\"My child, what word has escaped the fence of your teeth?\nWas it not you yourself who devised this purpose,\nthat Odysseus should come and take vengeance on those men?\nAnd Telemachus — send him yourself with skill, for you have the power,\nso that he may reach his own fatherland wholly unharmed,\nand the suitors may sail home again,\ndefeated back the way they came.\" So he spoke, and to his dear son Hermes he said:\n\"Hermes, since you are in all else too our messenger,\nspeak to the fair-tressed nymph a sure counsel,\nthe homecoming of steadfast-hearted Odysseus, that he may return\nwith no escort from gods or from mortal men;\nbut let him on a close-bound raft, suffering pains,\ncome on the twentieth day to fertile Scheria,\nto the land of the Phaeacians, who are near kin to the gods;\nthey will honor him in their hearts as though he were a god,\nand will send him in a ship to his dear fatherland,\ngiving him bronze and gold in plenty and raiment,\ngifts as many as Odysseus never carried off from Troy,\neven if he had come home unscathed, taking his allotted share of the spoil.\nFor so it is his fate to see his loved ones and to come\nto his high-roofed house and to his own fatherland.\"\nSo he spoke, and the slayer of Argus did not disobey him.\nAt once he bound beneath his feet his beautiful sandals,\nimmortal, golden, which bear him over the wet sea\nand over the boundless land with the blasts of the wind.\nAnd he took the wand with which he charms the eyes of men,\nof whom he will, and wakes others again though they sleep.\nHolding this in his hands, the strong slayer of Argus flew.\nOver Pieria he passed, and swooped down from the upper air upon the sea;\nthen he rushed upon the waves, like a gull\nthat over the terrible gulfs of the barren sea\nhunts fish and dips its thick feathers in the brine.\nLike that bird, Hermes rode over the many waves.\nBut when he came to the island that lay far off,\nthere he stepped out of the violet sea onto the mainland\nand went on until he came to the great cave, wherein the nymph\nof the fair tresses dwelt; and he found her within.\nA great fire was burning on the hearth, and far away the smell\nof split cedar and juniper spread over the island\nas they burned; and she within, singing with a beautiful voice,\npaced at the loom and wove with a golden shuttle.\nAnd a wood grew flourishing all about the cave,\nalder and poplar and sweet-smelling cypress.\nThere too the long-winged birds made their beds,\nowls and hawks and sea-crows of the long tongue,\nsea-birds whose business is upon the water.\nAnd around the hollow cave a thriving vine was spread,\nin its prime, and it flourished with clusters of grapes.\nAnd four springs flowed in a row with white water,\nclose to one another, each turned its own way.\nAnd round about, soft meadows of violet and parsley\nbloomed. There even an immortal, coming upon it,\nwould marvel at the sight and delight in his heart.\nThere the slayer of Argus stood and marveled.\nBut when he had marveled at all with his heart,\nat once he went into the wide cave. And seeing him face to face,\nCalypso, the shining among goddesses, did not fail to know him;\nfor the immortal gods never fail to know one another,\neven if one has his halls far off.\nBut he did not find great-hearted Odysseus within,\nbut he sat weeping on the shore, where he had always sat,\nwasting his heart with tears and groans and sorrows,\nand gazing over the barren sea, shedding tears.\nAnd Calypso, the shining among goddesses, questioned Hermes,\nhaving seated him on a bright and shining throne:\n\"Why have you come to me, Hermes of the golden wand,\nhonored and dear? You do not come here often.\nSpeak what is in your mind; my heart bids me accomplish it,\nif I can accomplish it, and if it is to be accomplished.\nBut come further in, so that I may set guest-gifts before you.\"\nSo speaking, the goddess set out a table before him,\nfilling it with ambrosia, and mixed the red nectar.\nAnd the slayer of Argus drank and ate.\nBut when he had dined and cheered his heart with food,\nthen he answered her and spoke these words:\n\"You ask me, a god, why I have come, goddess; and I\nwill tell you the matter truly; for you bid me.\nZeus sent me here against my will,\nand who would willingly run across so great a stretch of salt water,\nmeasureless as it is? No city of mortals is near at hand, no men\nwho offer sacrifices to the gods and chosen hecatombs.\nBut there is no way at all to evade the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus\nor to slip past it, for any other god.\nHe says a man is here, the most wretched of all others,\nof those men who fought around the city of Priam\nfor nine years, and in the tenth sacked the city and went\nhome; but on the homeward way they sinned against Athena,\nwho roused against them a foul wind and long waves.\nThere all the rest of his noble companions perished,\nbut the wind and the wave brought him here.\nHim he now bids you send away as quickly as may be;\nfor it is not his fate to perish here, far from his loved ones,\nbut it is still his fate to see his loved ones and to come\nto his high-roofed house and his own fatherland.\"\nSo he spoke, and Calypso shuddered, the shining among goddesses,\nand speaking to him she addressed him with winged words:\n\"Hard are you gods, and jealous beyond all others,\nyou who are jealous when goddesses lie with men\nopenly, if one makes a mortal her dear husband.\nSo when rosy-fingered Dawn took Orion,\nall the while you gods who live at ease were jealous of him,\nuntil in Ortygia pure Artemis of the golden throne\ncame upon him with her gentle arrows and slew him.\nAnd so when Demeter of the fair tresses, yielding\nin her heart, lay with Iasion in love and in bed\nin a thrice-plowed field, nor was Zeus long without word of it,\nwho struck him with a bright thunderbolt and slew him.\nSo now you gods are jealous of me, that a mortal man is with me.\nHim I saved, when he was clinging to the keel alone,\nafter Zeus had struck his swift ship with a bright thunderbolt\nand shattered it in the midst of the wine-dark sea.\nThere all the rest of his noble companions perished,\nbut the wind and the wave brought him here.\nHim I loved and cherished, and I said I would make him\nimmortal and ageless for all his days.\nBut since there is no way at all to evade the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus\nor to slip past it, for any other god,\nlet him go, if that god urges and bids him,\nover the barren sea; but I will not send him on any path.\nFor I have no oared ships beside me, nor companions\nwho might send him over the broad back of the sea.\nBut I will gladly advise him, and conceal nothing,\nso that he may reach his own fatherland wholly unharmed.\"\nThen the slayer of Argus answered her and said:\n\"Send him away now, then, and fear the wrath of Zeus,\nlest he be angry with you hereafter and make it hard for you.\"\nSo speaking, the strong slayer of Argus departed;\nand the queenly nymph went to great-hearted Odysseus,\nnow that she had heard the message of Zeus.\nAnd she found him sitting on the shore; his eyes were never\ndry of tears, and his sweet life was draining away\nas he wept for his homecoming, since the nymph no longer pleased him.\nTruly he slept at night, and by compulsion,\nin the hollow caves, unwilling beside the willing one;\nbut by day he would sit on the rocks and the shores,\nwasting his heart with tears and groans and sorrows,\nand gazing over the barren sea, shedding tears.\nAnd standing near him, the shining among goddesses spoke:\n\"Unhappy man, do not grieve here any longer, and do not let your life\nwaste away; for now I will send you off with a ready heart.\nCome, cut long timbers and fit them with bronze\ninto a broad raft; and build a deck upon it\nhigh up, so that it may carry you over the misty sea.\nAnd I will put aboard food and water and red wine,\nheart-cheering things, which will hold off hunger from you,\nand I will clothe you in garments; and I will send a fair wind behind you,\nso that you may reach your own fatherland wholly unharmed,\nif the gods are willing, who hold the broad heaven,\nwho are stronger than I to devise and to accomplish.\"\nSo she spoke, and much-enduring shining Odysseus shuddered,\nand speaking to her he addressed her with winged words:\n\"Goddess, you are devising something else here, and no escort,\nwhen you bid me cross the great gulf of the sea on a raft,\na terrible and painful thing; not even well-built ships\ncross it, swift as they are, exulting in the wind of Zeus.\nAnd I would not set foot on a raft against your will,\nunless you would dare, goddess, to swear me a great oath\nthat you will not devise some other evil harm against me myself.\"\nSo he spoke, and Calypso smiled, the shining among goddesses,\nand stroked him with her hand, and spoke and called him by name:\n\"Ah, you are a rogue, and no fool, to have thought\nto speak such a word as this.\nLet the earth now know this, and the broad heaven above,\nand the downward-flowing water of the Styx, which is the greatest\nand most terrible oath for the blessed gods:\nthat I will not devise some other evil harm against you yourself.\nBut I think and devise such things as\nI would devise for myself, when such need came upon me.\nFor my mind too is righteous, and in my own breast\nmy heart is not of iron, but is pitiful.\"\nSo speaking, the shining among goddesses led the way\nswiftly; and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.\nAnd they came to the hollow cave, the god and the man;\nand he sat down there on the throne from which Hermes had risen,\nand the nymph set all manner of food before him,\nto eat and to drink, such things as mortal men eat;\nand she sat down facing godlike Odysseus,\nand her maids set ambrosia and nectar beside her.\nAnd they reached out their hands to the good things set before them.\nBut when they had taken their pleasure in food and drink,\nthen Calypso began to speak among them, the shining among goddesses:\n\"Zeus-born son of Laertes, much-devising Odysseus,\nso now you are eager to go home to your dear fatherland\nat once? Farewell to you, then, even so.\nIf you but knew in your heart how many sorrows\nit is your fate to fill up before you reach your fatherland,\nyou would stay here with me and keep this house,\nand be immortal, though you long to see\nyour wife, for whom you yearn all your days.\nI do not claim to be in any way worse than she is,\nneither in body nor in stature; for it is not seemly\nfor mortal women to contend with immortal goddesses in body and form.\"\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\n\"Queenly goddess, do not be angry with me for this; I myself know\nall this full well: that thoughtful Penelope\nis less in beauty and in stature, seen beside you.\nFor she is mortal, and you are immortal and ageless.\nBut even so I wish and long all my days\nto go home and to see the day of my return.\nAnd if some god smashes me on the wine-dark sea,\nI will endure it, holding a patient heart in my breast.\nFor already I have suffered many things and toiled much\nin waves and in war; let this too be added to those.\"\nSo he spoke, and the sun set and darkness came on;\nand the two went into the inner part of the hollow cave\nand took their pleasure in love, staying beside one another.\nAnd when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nat once Odysseus put on his cloak and tunic,\nand the nymph herself put on a great silvery robe,\nfine and lovely, and about her waist she cast a belt\nbeautiful and golden, and over her head a veil.\nAnd then she began to plan the escort for great-hearted Odysseus:\nshe gave him a great axe, fitted to his hands,\nof bronze, sharpened on both sides; and in it\nwas a very beautiful handle of olive wood, well fitted.\nThen she gave him a polished adze; and she led the way\nto the farthest edge of the island, where tall trees grew,\nalder and poplar and fir that reached to the sky,\ndry long since and seasoned through, that would float lightly for him.\nBut when she had shown him where the tall trees grew,\nCalypso went back toward her house, the shining among goddesses,\nand he cut the timbers; and quickly his work was finished.\nHe brought out twenty in all and hewed them with the bronze,\nand smoothed them skillfully and trued them to a line.\nMeanwhile Calypso brought him augers, the shining among goddesses;\nand he bored them all through and fitted them to one another,\nand he hammered it fast with pegs and with joints.\nAs much as a man shapes the bottom of a broad merchant ship,\none who knows carpentry well,\nso much did Odysseus make of the broad raft.\nAnd he set up the deck, fitting it with close-set stanchions,\nand made it; and he finished it with long side-beams.\nAnd in it he made a mast and a yard fitted to it,\nand he made a steering-oar besides, to steer her by.\nAnd he fenced it through and through with osier wicker\nto be a shield against the waves; and he heaped on much timber.\nMeanwhile Calypso brought him cloth, the shining among goddesses,\nto make sails withal; and those too he fashioned well.\nAnd in it he bound braces and ropes and sheets,\nand he hauled it down with levers into the shining sea.\nIt was the fourth day, and all things were finished for him;\nand on the fifth the shining Calypso sent him from the island,\nhaving bathed him and clothed him in sweet-smelling garments.\nAnd the goddess put aboard a skin of dark wine,\none of the two, and the other a great one of water, and a sack\nof grain; and she set out many heart-cheering foods for him.\nAnd she sent a wind, harmless and gentle.\nAnd glad at the wind, shining Odysseus spread his sails.\nAnd he steered her skillfully with the steering-oar,\nsitting; and sleep never fell upon his eyelids,\nas he watched the Pleiades and the late-setting Bear-ward\nand the Bear, which men also call the Wagon by name,\nwhich turns in its own place and watches for Orion,\nand alone has no share in the baths of Ocean.\nFor Calypso, the shining among goddesses, had told him\nto keep it on his left hand as he crossed the sea.\nSeventeen days he sailed, crossing the sea;\nand on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains appeared,\nthe land of the Phaeacians, where it lay nearest to him;\nand it looked like a shield of hide in the misty sea.\nAnd the lord Earthshaker, coming back from the Ethiopians,\nsaw it from far off, from the Solymi mountains; for it appeared\nto him as he sailed upon the sea. And he was angrier in his heart,\nand shaking his head he spoke to his own heart:\n\"Ah, surely the gods have changed their counsel\nabout Odysseus, while I was among the Ethiopians,\nand now he is near the land of the Phaeacians, where it is his fate\nto escape the great limit of the misery that comes upon him.\nBut still I think I will drive him deep into misery.\"\nSo saying, he gathered the clouds and stirred up the sea,\ntaking his trident in his hands; and he roused all the blasts\nof every kind of wind, and with clouds he covered\nboth land and sea together; and night rushed down from heaven.\nAnd the East Wind and the South Wind fell upon him, and the harsh West Wind\nand the North Wind born in the clear air, rolling a great wave.\nAnd then the knees of Odysseus gave way, and his dear heart,\nand troubled he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:\n\"Ah, wretched me — what will become of me at the last?\nI fear the goddess told me all things truly,\nshe who said that on the sea, before I reach my fatherland,\nI would fill up sorrows; and now all this is being fulfilled.\nWith what clouds Zeus wraps the broad heaven round,\nand he has stirred the sea, and the blasts rush on\nof every kind of wind. Now my sure destruction is at hand.\nThrice blessed and four times are the Danaans who died then,\nin broad Troy, bringing joy to the sons of Atreus.\nWould that I too had died and met my fate\non that day when the most of the Trojans hurled\ntheir bronze-tipped spears at me around the fallen son of Peleus.\nThen I would have had my funeral rites, and the Achaeans would carry my fame;\nbut now it is my fate to be caught in a wretched death.\"\nSo speaking, a great wave struck him on the crest,\nrushing terribly upon him, and spun the raft around.\nHe himself fell far from the raft, and the steering-oar\nhe let go from his hands; and the mast in the middle was broken\nby the terrible squall that came as the winds mixed together,\nand the sail and the yard fell far away into the sea.\nAnd it held him beneath the water a long while, and he could not\nrise up quickly from the rush of the great wave;\nfor the garments weighed him down, which shining Calypso had given him.\nAt last he came up, and spat the bitter brine\nfrom his mouth, which poured in quantity from his head.\nBut not even so did he forget the raft, though he was spent,\nbut he rushed back through the waves and caught hold of it,\nand sat down in the middle of it, shunning the doom of death.\nAnd the great wave carried it along the current this way and that.\nAnd as when in late summer the North Wind carries thistledown\nacross the plain, and the tufts hold close to one another,\nso the winds carried it across the deep this way and that;\nsometimes the South Wind threw it to the North Wind to carry,\nand sometimes again the East Wind yielded to the West Wind to pursue.\nAnd the daughter of Cadmus saw him, fair-ankled Ino,\nLeucothea, who once was a mortal with a human voice,\nbut now in the depths of the sea has a share of the honor of the gods.\nShe pitied Odysseus as he wandered, holding sorrows,\nand she rose up from the water like a shearwater in flight,\nand sat upon the close-bound raft and spoke a word:\n\"Unhappy man, why is Poseidon the Earthshaker\nso terribly angry with you, that he plants so many evils for you?\nHe will not destroy you, though he is very eager to.\nBut do exactly this — you do not seem to me to be a fool:\nstrip off these garments and leave the raft to be carried by the winds,\nand lay hold with your hands and strive for your homecoming\nto the land of the Phaeacians, where it is your fate to escape.\nThere, spread this veil beneath your chest,\nan immortal thing; and you need not fear to suffer or to perish.\nBut when you have laid hold of the mainland with your hands,\nloosen it again and throw it into the wine-dark sea,\nfar from the land, and turn away yourself.\"\nSo speaking, the goddess gave him the veil,\nand she herself dove back into the surging sea\nlike a shearwater; and the dark wave covered her.\nBut much-enduring shining Odysseus pondered,\nand troubled he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:\n\"Ah, me — lest one of the immortals is weaving a snare for me again,\none who bids me leave the raft.\nBut I will not obey, not yet, since with my eyes I saw\nthe land far off, where she said escape was for me.\nBut I will do exactly this, and it seems to me best:\nas long as the timbers hold together in their joints,\nso long will I stay here and endure, suffering sorrows;\nbut when the wave shakes the raft apart for me,\nthen I will swim, since nothing better is at hand to plan.\"\nWhile he was turning these things over in his mind and heart,\nPoseidon the Earthshaker roused a great wave against him,\nterrible and painful and towering, and drove it at him.\nAnd as when a violent wind shakes a heap of dry chaff\non the threshing floor, and scatters it all this way and that,\nso it scattered the long timbers of the raft. But Odysseus\nclimbed astride a single timber, riding it like a horse,\nand stripped off the garments that shining Calypso had given him.\nAnd at once he spread the veil beneath his chest,\nand himself fell face down into the salt sea, stretching out his hands,\neager to swim. And the lord Earthshaker saw him,\nand shaking his head he spoke to his own heart:\n\"So now, having suffered many evils, go wandering over the sea,\nuntil you come among men who are reared by Zeus.\nBut not even so do I think you will make light of your misery.\"\nSo speaking, he lashed his beautiful-maned horses,\nand came to Aegae, where his famous house stands.\nBut Athena, the daughter of Zeus, thought of another thing.\nShe bound fast the paths of the other winds,\nand commanded them all to cease and to sleep;\nand she roused the swift North Wind, and broke the waves before him,\nuntil Zeus-born Odysseus, escaping death and the fates,\nmight come among the Phaeacians who love the oar.\nThere for two nights and two days on the solid swell\nhe drifted, and many times his heart foresaw destruction.\nBut when the fair-tressed Dawn brought the third day to its end,\nthen the wind ceased, and there came a windless calm,\nand he saw land close by,\ngazing sharply ahead as he was lifted by the great wave.\nAnd as when life appears welcome to children,\nwhen their father lies in sickness, suffering mighty sorrows,\nwasting away a long time, and a hateful spirit besets him,\nand then the gods gladly release him from his misery,\nso welcome seemed the land and the wood to Odysseus,\nand he swam eagerly to set his feet upon the mainland.\nBut when he was as far off as a man's voice carries,\nhe heard the booming of the sea against the rocks;\nfor the great wave roared against the dry land,\nbellowing terribly, and all was wrapped in the foam of the sea;\nfor there were no harbors to hold ships, nor anchorages,\nbut jutting headlands and rocks and cliffs;\nand then the knees of Odysseus gave way, and his dear heart,\nand troubled he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:\n\"Ah me, since Zeus has granted me to see unexpected land,\nand I have cut across this gulf and come through,\nno way out of the gray sea appears anywhere;\nfor outside stand sharp cliffs, and about them the wave\nroars with the surf, and the smooth rock rises up,\nand the sea is deep close in, and there is no way with my feet\nto stand on both of them and escape the misery.\nLest as I come out a great wave snatch me and cast me\nagainst the jagged rock; and my effort will be useless.\nBut if I swim further on, in the hope that I may find\nsloping shores and harbors of the sea,\nI fear that a squall may snatch me up again\nand carry me over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily,\nor some great sea-monster may be roused against me by a god\nout of the sea, such as famous Amphitrite breeds in numbers.\nFor I know well how the famous Earthshaker hates me.\"\nWhile he was turning these things over in his mind and heart,\nmeanwhile a great wave carried him toward the rough shore.\nThere his skin would have been torn from him and his bones crushed,\nhad not the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, put it in his mind;\nrushing forward he caught at the rock with both hands,\nand clung to it groaning, until the great wave had passed by.\nAnd so he escaped that one, but the backwash wave struck\nhim again as it rushed on, and cast him far out into the sea.\nAnd as when a polypus is dragged from its hole,\nand the thick pebbles cling to its suckers,\nso from his bold hands against the rocks\nhis skin was torn away; and the great wave covered him.\nThen wretched Odysseus would have perished beyond his fate,\nhad not bright-eyed Athena given him understanding.\nRising up out of the wave that gushes toward the mainland,\nhe swam along, looking toward land, if somewhere he might find\nsloping shores and harbors of the sea.\nBut when he came swimming to the mouth of a fair-flowing river,\nthere where the place seemed best to him,\nsmooth of rocks, and there was shelter from the wind,\nhe knew the stream flowing out and prayed in his heart:\n\"Hear me, lord, whoever you are; I come to you, much-prayed-to,\nfleeing from the sea and the rebuke of Poseidon.\nReverend even among the immortal gods is any man\nwho comes as a wanderer, as I now come\nto your stream and your knees, having toiled much.\nBut have pity, lord; I declare myself your suppliant.\"\nSo he spoke, and the river at once checked its stream and stayed its wave,\nand made a calm before him, and saved him\ninto the river's mouth. And he bent both knees\nand his strong hands; for his dear heart was overcome by the sea.\nHis whole skin was swollen, and much seawater gushed\nfrom his mouth and nostrils; and he lay breathless and speechless,\nwith little strength left, and terrible weariness came upon him.\nBut when he had breathed again and the spirit gathered in his chest,\nthen he loosed the veil of the goddess from himself.\nAnd he let it fall into the sea-swelling river,\nand a great wave carried it back down the stream, and quickly Ino\nreceived it in her dear hands; and he, turning aside from the river,\nleaned down in a bed of rushes and kissed the life-giving earth.\nAnd troubled he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:\n\"Ah me, what shall I suffer? What will become of me at the last?\nIf I keep a painful watch through the night by the river,\nlest together the wicked frost and the soft dew\novercome me and drain my spirit with faintness,\nand a cold breeze blows from the river before dawn,\nbut if I go up the slope and lie down in the shady wood,\nin the thick bushes, if cold and weariness let me go\nand sweet sleep comes over me,\nI fear that I may become the prey and spoil of wild beasts.\"\nSo as he thought it over, this seemed to him better:\nhe went into the wood, and found it near the water\nin an open place; and he crept under two bushes\nthat had grown from one spot; one was wild olive, the other was cultivated olive.\nThe strength of the wet-blowing winds could not blow through them,\nnor did the shining sun ever strike them with its rays,\nnor did rain pass through; so thick were they,\ngrown one through the other. Under them Odysseus\ncrept. And at once he heaped up a bed with his dear hands,\na broad one; for there was a pile of leaves in abundance,\nenough to shelter two or three men\nin the winter season, even if it were very harsh.\nSeeing it, much-enduring shining Odysseus rejoiced,\nand he lay down in the middle of it, and heaped a pile of leaves over himself.\nAnd as when a man hides a firebrand in black ashes\nat the farthest edge of a field, where there are no neighbors near,\nsaving the seed of fire, so that it may not be kindled from elsewhere,\nso Odysseus covered himself with leaves; and Athena\npoured sleep over his eyes, so that she might put an end to him\nmost quickly, covering his dear eyelids from the toil of weariness.\n\n### Book 6\n\nSo the much-enduring noble Odysseus slept there,\novercome by sleep and toil; but Athena\nwent to the people and the city of the Phaeacian men,\nwho once long ago dwelt in broad Hypereia,\nnear the Cyclopes, men of overweening pride,\nwho kept harrying them, and were stronger in might than they.\nFrom there godlike Nausithous led them and settled them\nin Scheria, far from men who toil for bread,\nand he drove a wall about the city, and built houses,\nand made temples of the gods, and divided out the fields.\nBut he had already gone down to Hades, subdued by death,\nand then Alcinous ruled, knowing counsel from the gods.\nTo his house went the goddess, grey-eyed Athena,\nplanning the return of great-hearted Odysseus.\nShe went to the richly-wrought chamber, wherein a maiden\nslept, like the immortal goddesses in stature and in form,\nNausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,\nand beside her two handmaids, having beauty from the Graces,\non either side of the doorposts; and the shining doors were shut.\nLike a breath of wind she rushed to the maiden's bed,\nand stood above her head, and spoke a word to her,\nappearing as the daughter of Dymas, famed for his ships,\nwho was of her own age, and was dear to her heart.\nResembling her, grey-eyed Athena spoke to her:\nNausicaa, why did your mother bear you so careless of all this?\nYour garments lie neglected, all of them shining; and\nyour marriage is near at hand, when you must dress yourself\nin lovely things, and give others to those who lead you.\nFor from such things good report goes up among men,\nand father and honored mother both rejoice.\nBut let us go to wash at the appearing Dawn;\nand I will follow with you as a fellow-worker, so that most quickly\nyou may be ready, since you shall be a maiden no longer;\nfor already the noblest men throughout the district\nof all the Phaeacians woo you, where your own lineage is.\nBut come, urge your glorious father at early dawn\nto make ready the mules and the wagon, which may carry\nyour girdles and robes and shining coverlets.\nAnd for you yourself it is far better than going\non foot; for the washing places are far from the city.\nSo saying, grey-eyed Athena departed\nto Olympus, where they say the gods' seat is forever\nsecure. It is not shaken by any winds, nor ever\nwet with rain, nor does snow come near it, but a clear sky\nis spread out unclouded, and a white radiance runs over it;\nin it the blessed gods take delight all their days.\nThere grey-eyed Athena went, when she had told the maiden all.\nStraightway came Dawn of the lovely throne, who woke\nfair-robed Nausicaa; and at once she marveled at the dream,\nand she went through the house, to tell her parents,\nher dear father and her mother; and she found them within.\nHer mother sat at the hearth with her women handmaids,\nspinning sea-purple wool; and her father she met\nas he went out among the glorious kings,\nto the council, where the proud Phaeacians called him.\nStanding very near, she spoke to her dear father:\nDear papa, would you not make ready for me a wagon\nhigh and well-wheeled, so that I may carry the glorious garments\nto the river to wash, which lie soiled for me?\nAnd it is fitting for you too, sitting among the foremost,\nto plan counsels wearing clean garments on your body.\nFor five dear sons have been born to you in the halls,\ntwo of them married, and three flourishing young men;\nand these always wish, having newly-washed garments,\nto go to the dance; and all this is a care to my heart.\nSo she spoke; for she was ashamed to name her blooming marriage\nto her dear father. But he understood all and answered with a word:\nI do not begrudge you the mules, child, nor anything else.\nGo on; and the servants shall make ready the wagon,\nhigh and well-wheeled, fitted above with a frame.\nSo saying he called to the servants, and they obeyed.\nThey outside drew out the well-wheeled mule-wagon\nand brought up the mules and yoked them beneath the wagon;\nand the girl brought shining clothing from the chamber.\nAnd she laid it down on the well-polished wagon,\nand her mother put in a basket satisfying food\nof every kind, and put in relishes, and poured in wine\nin a goatskin; and the girl climbed onto the wagon.\nAnd she gave in a golden flask liquid olive oil,\nso that she might anoint herself with her women handmaids.\nAnd she took the whip and the shining reins,\nand lashed to drive; and there was a clatter of the two mules.\nThey strained unceasingly, and carried the clothing and her,\nnot her alone, for with her the other handmaids went as well.\nWhen they came to the beautiful stream of the river,\nwhere the washing places were unfailing, and abundant water\nflowed out, very good for cleansing even soiled things,\nthere they released the mules from the wagon.\nAnd they drove them along the eddying river\nto graze on honey-sweet grass; and they from the wagon\ntook the clothing in their hands and carried it into the dark water,\nand trod them in the trenches swiftly, striving in rivalry.\nBut when they had washed and cleansed away all the dirt,\nthey spread them in order along the shore of the sea, where most\nthe sea washed up pebbles toward the dry land.\nAnd they, having bathed and anointed themselves richly with oil,\nthen took their meal beside the banks of the river,\nand the garments waited for the sun's rays to dry them.\nBut when the maids and she herself had had their fill of food,\nthey played at ball, having thrown off their headdresses;\nand white-armed Nausicaa began the song for them.\nAs the arrow-pouring Artemis goes down the mountains,\neither along tall Taygetus or Erymanthus,\ntaking delight in boars and swift deer;\nand with her the nymphs, daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus,\nthe field-dwelling ones, play, and Leto rejoices in heart;\nand above all of them she holds her head and brow,\nand easily is she known, and all of them are beautiful;\nso the unwedded maiden stood out among her handmaids.\nBut when she was about to return home again,\nhaving yoked the mules and folded the beautiful garments,\nthen again the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, thought of another thing:\nthat Odysseus might wake, and see the fair-faced maiden,\nwho might guide him to the city of the Phaeacian men.\nThen the princess threw the ball at a handmaid;\nshe missed the handmaid, and threw it into a deep eddy;\nand they cried out greatly; and noble Odysseus woke,\nand sitting up he pondered in his mind and heart:\nAlas for me! To the land of what mortals have I come now?\nAre they violent and savage and not just,\nor hospitable, and is their mind god-fearing?\nAs of maidens a female cry came around me,\nof nymphs, who hold the steep peaks of the mountains\nand the springs of rivers and the grassy meadows.\nOr am I somewhere near men of human speech?\nBut come, I will myself make trial and see.\nSo saying, noble Odysseus crept out from under the bushes,\nand from the thick wood broke a leafy branch with his stout hand,\nfull of leaves, to cover the man's private parts about his body.\nHe went like a mountain-bred lion trusting in his might,\nwho goes on wet and windblown, and in him his two eyes\nburn; but he goes after cattle or sheep\nor wild deer; and his belly bids him\nto try for the flocks and come into the close-built fold;\nso Odysseus was about to mix with the fair-tressed girls,\nthough naked; for need had come upon him.\nHe appeared dreadful to them, marred by the brine,\nand they fled this way and that to the jutting shores;\nbut the daughter of Alcinous alone stood fast; for Athena\nput courage in her heart and took fear from her limbs.\nShe stood facing him and held her ground; and Odysseus pondered,\nwhether he should clasp her knees and beg the fair-faced maiden,\nor beg her from afar with gentle words,\nthat she might show him the city and give him clothing.\nThus to him thinking, it seemed the better thing\nto beg with gentle words from afar,\nlest, if he clasped her knees, the maiden be angered in heart.\nStraightway he spoke a gentle and winning word:\nI beseech you, lady: are you some god, or a mortal?\nIf you are some god, one of those who hold the wide heaven,\nthen to Artemis, daughter of great Zeus, I\nliken you most nearly in form and stature and build.\nBut if you are one of mortals, who dwell upon the earth,\nthrice blessed are your father and your honored mother,\nthrice blessed are your brothers; surely their heart\nis ever warmed with gladness because of you,\nas they look on such a young shoot entering the dance.\nBut he is beyond others most blessed in heart,\nwho, weighing you down with bride-gifts, leads you home.\nFor never yet have I seen with my eyes such a mortal,\nneither man nor woman; awe takes me as I look.\nOn Delos once, such a thing beside the altar of Apollo,\na young shoot of a palm growing up, I noticed;\nfor I went there too, and much people followed with me,\non the journey on which evils were to befall me.\nAnd just so, seeing that, I marveled in my heart\nfor a long while, since never yet had such a tree come up from the earth,\nas you, lady, I wonder at and marvel at, and I dread greatly\nto touch your knees; but a harsh grief comes upon me.\nYesterday, on the twentieth day, I escaped the wine-dark sea;\nmeanwhile the wave and the swift storms kept bearing me\nfrom the island of Ogygia. Now a god has cast me here,\nthat I may perhaps suffer evil even here too; for I do not think\nit will cease, but the gods will yet accomplish many things first.\nBut, lady, have pity; for after suffering many evils\nI have come to you first, and of the others I know no one\nof the men who hold this city and this land.\nShow me the town, and give me a rag to wrap myself,\nif perhaps you had some wrapping of cloths when you came here.\nMay the gods give you as much as you desire in your heart:\na husband and a house, and may they grant you good\nlike-mindedness; for there is nothing better or nobler\nthan when a man and wife hold a house\nof one mind in their thoughts; great grief to their enemies,\nbut joy to their well-wishers, and most of all they themselves hear of it.\nAnd white-armed Nausicaa answered him in turn:\nStranger, since you seem neither a base man nor a foolish one,\nZeus himself, the Olympian, dispenses wealth to men,\nto the good and the bad, to each as he wishes;\nand perhaps he has given this to you, and you must endure it nevertheless.\nBut now, since you have come to our city and land,\nyou shall lack neither clothing nor anything else\nthat is fitting for a stricken suppliant who meets one.\nI will show you the town, and I will tell you the name of the people.\nThe Phaeacians hold this city and this land,\nand I am the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,\nand from him come the strength and power of the Phaeacians.\nShe spoke, and called to her fair-tressed handmaids:\nStand by me, handmaids; where do you flee, having seen a man?\nSurely you do not think him some hostile man?\nThere is no such living mortal man, nor shall there be,\nwho will come to the land of the Phaeacian men\nbringing war; for they are very dear to the immortals.\nWe dwell apart in the much-surging sea,\nat the farthest edge, and no other mortal mixes with us.\nBut this is some wretched wanderer who has come here,\nwhom we must now care for; for all are from Zeus,\nboth strangers and beggars, and the gift is small yet dear.\nBut give, handmaids, to the stranger food and drink,\nand bathe him in the river, where there is shelter from the wind.\nSo she spoke, and they stood and called to one another,\nand they seated Odysseus in the shelter, as Nausicaa\nthe daughter of great-hearted Alcinous had commanded;\nand beside him they laid a cloak and tunic, clothing,\nand gave in a golden flask liquid olive oil,\nand urged him to bathe in the streams of the river.\nThen noble Odysseus spoke to the handmaids:\nHandmaids, stand thus away from me, so that I myself\nmay wash the brine from my shoulders, and about me with oil\nanoint myself; for long has the anointing been from my skin.\nAnd I will not bathe in front of you; for I am ashamed\nto strip naked among fair-tressed girls.\nSo he spoke, and they went away, and told the girl.\nBut noble Odysseus washed from his body in the river\nthe brine, which covered his back and broad shoulders,\nand from his head he wiped the scurf of the barren sea.\nBut when he had bathed all and anointed richly with oil,\nand put on the clothing which the unwedded maiden gave him,\nthen Athena, born of Zeus, made him\ngreater to look on and broader, and down from his head\nshe sent curling hair, like a hyacinth flower.\nAs when a man pours gold over silver,\na skilled man, whom Hephaestus taught and Pallas Athena\nevery kind of craft, and he makes graceful works,\nso she poured grace over his head and shoulders.\nThen he went and sat apart on the shore of the sea,\nshining with beauty and graces; and the maiden looked at him.\nThen she spoke to her fair-tressed handmaids:\nHear me, white-armed handmaids, so that I may say something.\nNot against the will of all the gods, who hold Olympus,\ndoes this man mix with the godlike Phaeacians;\nfor before he seemed to me unseemly,\nbut now he is like the gods, who hold the wide heaven.\nIf only such a man might be called my husband,\ndwelling here, and it might please him to remain here.\nBut give, handmaids, to the stranger food and drink.\nSo she spoke, and they heard and obeyed her well,\nand set beside Odysseus food and drink.\nAnd much-enduring noble Odysseus drank and ate\ngreedily; for long had he been without food.\nBut white-armed Nausicaa thought of other things:\nshe folded the clothing and laid it on the beautiful wagon,\nand yoked the strong-hoofed mules, and climbed up herself,\nand roused Odysseus, and spoke a word and addressed him:\nRise now, stranger, and go to the city, so that I may send you\nto the house of my father, the wise-hearted, where I say you\nwill know all the Phaeacians, as many as are the best.\nBut do just as I say, and you seem to me not to lack sense.\nAs long as we go through the fields and the works of men,\nfor so long with the handmaids, behind the mules and the wagon,\nwalk quickly; and I will lead the way.\nBut when we come upon the city, around which is a wall\nhigh, and a beautiful harbor on either side of the city,\nand a narrow entrance; and the curved ships\nare drawn up along the road; for each has its own mooring place.\nAnd there is their assembly around a beautiful place of Poseidon,\nfitted with drawn stone buried in the ground.\nAnd there they busy themselves with the gear of the black ships,\ncables and ropes, and they sharpen their oars.\nFor the Phaeacians care not for bow nor quiver,\nbut for masts and oars of ships and the trim ships,\nin which, exulting, they cross the grey sea.\nI shun their ungentle talk, lest someone afterward\nfind fault with me; for they are very arrogant in the district.\nAnd some worse man might meet me and say this:\nWho is this that follows Nausicaa, handsome and tall,\na stranger? Where did she find him? He shall be her husband.\nEither she took in some wanderer from his ship,\nfrom men far away, since none are near;\nor some god came, greatly prayed for, to her as she prayed,\ncoming down from heaven, and he shall have her all her days.\nBetter that she herself had gone and found a husband\nfrom elsewhere; for surely she dishonors these\nPhaeacians, who woo her, many and noble.\nSo they will say, and these would be reproaches to me.\nAnd I myself blame any other woman, whoever does such things,\nwho, against the will of her dear father and mother living,\nmixes with men, before a public marriage comes.\nStranger, you then understand my word quickly, so that most quickly\nyou may win escort and return from my father.\nYou will find a glorious grove of Athena near the road,\nof poplars; and a spring flows in it, and around it a meadow;\nand there is my father's precinct and a flourishing orchard,\nas far from the town as a man can shout.\nSit there and wait for a time, until we\ncome to the town and reach my father's house.\nBut when you suppose we have come to the house,\nthen go to the city of the Phaeacians and ask\nfor the house of my father, great-hearted Alcinous.\nIt is easy to recognize, and even a foolish child could lead you\nto it; for not at all like the other\nPhaeacian houses is the house of Alcinous\nthe hero made. But when the house and the courtyard cover you,\ngo very quickly through the hall, until you come\nto my mother; and she sits at the hearth in the light of the fire,\nspinning sea-purple wool, a wonder to look on,\nleaning against a pillar; and her maids sit behind her.\nAnd there my father's throne is set close to hers,\non which he sits and drinks wine, like an immortal.\nPassing by him, throw your hands about my mother's knees,\nso that you may see your day of return,\nrejoicing and swiftly, even if you are very far away.\nIf she holds kind thoughts for you in her heart,\nthen there is hope for you to see your friends and come\nto your well-built house and your own native land.\nSo saying, she lashed the mules with the shining whip;\nand they quickly left the streams of the river.\nThey trotted well, and turned their feet well;\nand she drove very skillfully, so that on foot might follow\nthe handmaids and Odysseus, and with her mind she applied the whip.\nAnd the sun set, and they came to the glorious grove\nsacred to Athena, where noble Odysseus sat down.\nStraightway then he prayed to the daughter of great Zeus:\nHear me, child of aegis-bearing Zeus, Unwearied One;\nnow indeed hear me, since never before did you hear me\nwhen I was being dashed, when the glorious Earth-shaker dashed me.\nGrant that I come to the Phaeacians as one dear and pitied.\nSo he spoke praying, and Pallas Athena heard him.\nBut she did not yet appear to him face to face; for she feared\nher father's brother; and he raged fiercely\nagainst godlike Odysseus before he reached his own land.\n\n### Book 7\n\nSo he prayed there, the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus,\nand the strength of the mules carried the girl toward the city.\nAnd she, when she came to her father's glorious house,\nhalted in the doorway, and her brothers stood about her\nlike the deathless gods, and they loosed the mules from under the wagon\nand carried the clothing inside.\nShe herself went to her chamber; and an old woman kindled fire for her,\nan Apeiran crone, her chamberlain Eurymedusa,\nwhom ships once brought from Apeira;\nand they chose her out as a prize of honor for Alcinous, since over all\nthe Phaeacians he ruled, and the people heard him as a god;\nshe had raised white-armed Nausicaa in the halls.\nShe kindled her fire and made ready the supper within.\nAnd then Odysseus rose to go into the city; and Athena\npoured a thick mist about him, with kindly thought for Odysseus,\nlest any of the great-hearted Phaeacians meeting him\nshould mock him with words and ask who he was.\nBut when he was about to enter the lovely city,\nthere the goddess met him, bright-eyed Athena,\nlike a young maiden bearing a pitcher.\nShe stood before him, and brilliant Odysseus questioned her:\n\"My child, would you guide me to the house of the man\nAlcinous, who rules among these people?\nFor I too have come here, a stranger much-tried,\nfrom a far land; and so I know no man\nof those who hold this city and this land.\"\nThen the goddess answered him, bright-eyed Athena:\n\"Then, stranger and father, the house you bid me show,\nI will show you, since it stands near my blameless father's.\nBut come, walk so in silence, and I will lead the way,\nand do not look at any man nor question him.\nFor these men do not well endure strangers,\nnor do they welcome and love whoever comes from elsewhere.\nTrusting in their swift ships,\nthey cross the great gulf, since the Earth-shaker gave it them;\ntheir ships are swift as a wing or a thought.\"\nSo speaking, Pallas Athena led the way\nswiftly; and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.\nAnd the ship-famed Phaeacians did not mark him\ncoming through the city among them; for Athena\nof the fair braids, the dread goddess, did not suffer it — she poured\na wondrous mist over him, with kindly thought in her heart.\nAnd Odysseus marveled at the harbors and the trim ships,\nand the assembly places of the heroes themselves, and the long walls\ntowering, fitted with stakes, a wonder to behold.\nBut when they came to the king's glorious house,\nthe goddess began the speech to him, bright-eyed Athena:\n\"Here, stranger and father, is the house you asked me\nto show you; and you will find the Zeus-nourished kings\nfeasting at the feast. Go in, and in your heart\nfear nothing; for a bold man proves better in all\ndeeds, even if he comes from another land.\nFirst you will find the mistress in the halls;\nArete is her name, and it is a true name, and from the same parents\nshe comes who bore Alcinous the king.\nNausithous first did Poseidon the Earth-shaker\nbeget, with Periboea, the best in beauty of women,\nthe youngest daughter of great-hearted Eurymedon,\nwho once was king over the overweening Giants.\nBut he destroyed his reckless people, and himself perished;\nand with her Poseidon lay and begot a son,\ngreat-hearted Nausithous, who ruled among the Phaeacians;\nand Nausithous begot Rhexenor and Alcinous.\nRhexenor, being childless, the silver-bowed Apollo struck\nas a bridegroom in his hall, leaving one only child,\nArete; and Alcinous made her his wife,\nand honored her as no other woman on earth is honored,\nall the women who now keep house beneath their husbands.\nSo is she honored, and is honored in heart above all\nby her dear children and by Alcinous himself\nand by the people, who look on her as a god\nand greet her with words when she walks through the city.\nFor she herself lacks nothing of good understanding;\nwith her good mind she dissolves quarrels even among men.\nIf she is kindly minded toward you in her heart,\nthen there is hope that you will see your loved ones and reach\nyour high-roofed house and your own native land.\"\nSo speaking, bright-eyed Athena departed\nover the barren sea, and left lovely Scheria,\nand came to Marathon and wide-streeted Athens,\nand entered the close-built house of Erechtheus. But Odysseus\nwent toward the famous house of Alcinous; and his heart\npondered many things as he stood, before he reached the bronze threshold.\nFor as the gleam of the sun was it, or of the moon,\nthrough the high-roofed house of great-hearted Alcinous.\nFor bronze walls were fitted to it here and there,\nfrom the threshold to the inner room, and about it ran a cornice of blue;\nand golden doors closed the close-built house within;\nand silver doorposts stood on the bronze threshold,\nand a silver lintel above, and a golden handle.\nAnd on either side were dogs of gold and silver,\nwhich Hephaestus wrought with his cunning mind\nto guard the house of great-hearted Alcinous,\ndeathless and ageless all their days.\nAnd within, seats were set along the wall here and there,\nfrom the threshold through to the inner room, and on them robes,\nfine and well-woven, were laid, the work of women.\nThere the leaders of the Phaeacians sat\ndrinking and eating; for they had always plenty.\nAnd golden youths on well-built pedestals\nstood holding in their hands blazing torches,\nlighting the night through the hall for the feasters.\nAnd fifty slave women in the house —\nsome grind the apple-hued grain at the mills,\nand others weave at the looms and twirl the spindles,\nseated, like the leaves of a tall poplar;\nand from the close-woven linen cloth drips liquid oil.\nAs the Phaeacians are skilled above all men\nin driving a swift ship on the sea, so the women\nare skilled at the loom; for Athena gave them beyond others\nto know lovely works and good minds.\nAnd outside the courtyard, near the doors, is a great orchard\nof four acres; and a hedge runs round it on both sides.\nThere tall trees grow luxuriant,\npear trees and pomegranates and apple trees with shining fruit,\nand sweet figs and flourishing olives.\nTheir fruit never perishes nor fails\nin winter or in summer, but lasts the year; and ever\nthe West Wind blowing brings some to bud and ripens others.\nPear upon pear grows old, apple upon apple,\nand cluster upon cluster of grapes, and fig upon fig.\nAnd there a richly fruiting vineyard is rooted,\none part of it a sun-parched drying-floor in a smooth place\nis drying in the sun, and others they are gathering,\nand others they tread; and in front are unripe grapes\nshedding their blossom, and others are darkening.\nAnd there are ordered garden beds along the farthest row,\nof every kind, shining the year through;\nand in it are two springs; one spreads through all the garden,\nand the other gushes from the other side, beneath the courtyard's threshold,\ntoward the high house, whence the townsmen drew water.\nSuch, then, in Alcinous' house were the shining gifts of the gods.\nThere the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus stood and gazed.\nBut when he had gazed at all in his heart,\nhe stepped swiftly over the threshold into the house,\nand found the leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians\npouring libations from cups to the keen-sighted Argeiphontes,\nto whom they poured last, whenever they thought of bed.\nAnd the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus went through the hall\nholding the thick mist that Athena had poured about him,\nuntil he came to Arete and King Alcinous.\nAnd about Arete's knees Odysseus cast his arms,\nand then the wondrous mist poured away from him again.\nAnd they fell silent, seeing the man through the hall;\nthey marveled as they looked. And Odysseus made his prayer:\n\"Arete, daughter of godlike Rhexenor,\nto your husband and your knees I come, after much toil,\nand to these feasters; may the gods grant them to live\nin blessing, and may each leave to his children\nhis possessions in the halls and the honor the people gave him;\nbut for me, speed my convoy to reach my homeland\nswiftly, since I have long suffered sorrows far from my loved ones.\"\nSo speaking, he sat down on the hearth in the ashes\nbeside the fire; and all of them fell hushed in silence.\nAnd at last the old hero Echeneus spoke among them,\nwho was the eldest of the Phaeacian men\nand excelled in speech, knowing many ancient things;\nhe, with kindly thought, addressed them and said:\n\"Alcinous, this is not the better way, nor is it fitting,\nthat the stranger sit on the ground at the hearth in the ashes,\nwhile these men hold back, awaiting your word.\nCome, raise the stranger and seat him on a silver-studded chair,\nand command the heralds\nto mix the wine, so that we may pour a libation to Zeus who delights in thunder,\nwho attends reverent suppliants;\nand let the housekeeper give the stranger supper from what is in the house.\"\nBut when the sacred strength of Alcinous heard this,\nhe took Odysseus by the hand, the clever-minded, full of devices,\nraised him from the hearth and seated him on a shining chair,\nrousing his son, the blameless Laodamas,\nwho sat beside him, and he loved him most.\nAnd a handmaid came and poured water for washing from a pitcher\nover a silver basin, from a fair golden jug,\nto wash himself; and beside him she drew up a polished table.\nAnd the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,\nlaying on many dishes, giving freely of what was there.\nAnd the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus drank and ate.\nAnd then the strength of Alcinous spoke to a herald:\n\"Pontonous, mix the bowl and pour the wine\nto all throughout the hall, so that we may pour a libation to Zeus who delights in thunder,\nwho attends reverent suppliants.\"\nSo he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine,\nand made the first offering, and served it to all in cups.\nBut when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,\nAlcinous addressed them and said:\n\"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,\nthat I may say what my heart in my breast commands me.\nNow, having feasted, go home and lie down;\nand at dawn, summoning the elders, more of them,\nwe will entertain the stranger in the halls and offer\nfair sacred things to the gods, and then we will take thought\nfor his convoy, so that the stranger, without toil or grief,\nby our convoy may reach his native land\nrejoicing and swiftly, even if it lies very far away,\nand suffer no evil or harm on the way,\nbefore he sets foot on his own land; and there thereafter\nhe shall suffer whatever fate and the heavy Spinners\nspun for him with their thread when his mother bore him.\nBut if one of the immortals has come down from heaven,\nthen the gods are planning something else in this.\nFor always before now the gods have shown themselves plainly\nto us, whenever we make glorious hecatombs,\nand they feast beside us, sitting where we sit.\nAnd if some solitary traveler meets them, going alone,\nthey do not hide themselves at all, since we are near of kin to them,\neven as the Cyclopes are, and the wild tribes of Giants.\nAnswering him, the crafty Odysseus said:\n\"Alcinous, let some other thing trouble your mind; for I at least\nam not like the deathless gods who hold the wide heaven,\nnot in body nor in stature, but like mortal men.\nWhatever men you know to bear the most misery,\nto them in their griefs I could compare myself.\nAnd I could tell of even more evils still,\nall that I have suffered by the will of the gods.\nBut let me eat, grieved though I am;\nfor nothing is more shameless than the hateful belly,\nwhich forces a man to remember it by necessity,\nthough he be utterly worn out and have grief in his heart,\nas I too have grief in my heart, and it ever\nbids me eat and drink, and makes me forget all\nthat I have suffered, and commands me to be filled.\nBut do you bestir yourselves at the appearing of dawn,\nso that you may set wretched me on my native land,\nthough I have suffered much; and let my life leave me when I have seen\nmy possessions, my slaves, and my great high-roofed house.\"\nSo he spoke, and all of them praised him and urged\nthat the stranger be escorted, since he had spoken fitly.\nBut when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,\nthey went each to his own house to lie down;\nand the brilliant Odysseus was left in the hall,\nand beside him Arete and godlike Alcinous\nsat; and the handmaids cleared away the gear of the feast.\nAnd white-armed Arete began the speech among them;\nfor she knew the cloak and tunic, seeing the clothing\nfair, which she herself had made with her women handmaids;\nand she spoke, and winged words flew from her:\n\"Stranger, I myself will first ask you this:\nwho among men are you, and from where? Who gave you these clothes?\nDo you not say you came here wandering over the sea?\"\nAnswering her, the crafty Odysseus said:\n\"Hard it is, O queen, to tell in order\nmy sorrows, since the gods of heaven gave me many;\nbut this I will tell you, which you ask me and inquire.\nThere is an island, Ogygia, lying far out in the sea;\nthere the daughter of Atlas, the guileful Calypso,\nof the fair braids, a dread goddess, dwells; and no one\nconsorts with her, neither of gods nor of mortal men.\nBut a god led wretched me to her hearth,\nalone, since Zeus smote my swift ship with a bright lightning bolt\nand shattered it in the midst of the wine-dark sea.\nThere all my noble companions perished,\nbut I, taking the keel of the curved ship in my arms,\nwas borne along nine days; and on the tenth dark night\nthe gods brought me to the island Ogygia, where Calypso\nof the fair braids, a dread goddess, dwells, who took me in\nand kindly loved and fed me, and said she would make me\ndeathless and ageless all my days;\nbut she never persuaded the heart in my breast.\nThere I stayed seven years, steadfast, and ever\nwet with tears the immortal clothes Calypso gave me;\nbut when the eighth year came round upon me,\nthen she urged me and commanded me to set out,\nat the message of Zeus, or her own mind turned.\nShe sent me off on a well-bound raft, and gave me much,\nfood and sweet wine, and clothed me in deathless garments,\nand sent a wind, harmless and gentle.\nSeventeen days I sailed, traversing the sea,\nand on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains appeared\nof your land, and my dear heart rejoiced,\nwretched as I was; for I was still to meet with misery,\nmuch of it, which Poseidon the Earth-shaker stirred up against me,\nwho, hurling winds upon me, bound up my course,\nand roused the unspeakable sea, and no wave\nsuffered me to be borne on the raft, groaning thickly.\nThen a storm scattered the raft; but I\nswam and cut through this gulf, until wind and water\ncarrying me brought me near your land.\nAnd there the wave would have overpowered me as I came out on shore,\nhurling me against great rocks and a joyless place;\nbut I gave back and swam again, until I came\nto a river, where the place seemed best to me,\nsmooth of rocks, and there was shelter from the wind.\nI fell out, gathering my spirit, and immortal night came on.\nAnd I, apart from the heaven-fed river,\nstepped out and lay down in the bushes, and heaped leaves\nover me; and a god poured endless sleep upon me.\nThere among the leaves, grieved at heart,\nI slept all night, and on into dawn and the middle of the day.\nThe sun set, and sweet sleep released me.\nAnd I marked your daughter's handmaids on the shore,\nplaying, and she herself was among them, like the goddesses;\nI supplicated her; and she did not miss the good thought,\nsuch as you would not expect a younger one, meeting a man,\nto have; for the young are always reckless.\nShe gave me food in plenty and gleaming wine,\nand bathed me in the river and gave me these clothes.\nThis I have told you truthfully, grieved though I am.\"\nThen Alcinous answered him and said:\n\"Stranger, my daughter truly did not think of what was fitting\nin this, that she did not bring you with her women handmaids\ninto our house, since you first supplicated her.\"\nAnswering him, the crafty Odysseus said:\n\"Hero, do not blame the blameless girl for that;\nshe did bid me follow with her handmaids,\nbut I did not wish it, from fear and from shame,\nlest your own heart be angered at the sight;\nfor the tribes of men on earth are quick to resentment.\"\nThen Alcinous answered him and said:\n\"Stranger, the dear heart in my breast is not such\nas to be angry for nothing; better is all that is fitting.\nO father Zeus and Athena and Apollo,\nif only you were such as you are, and thought as I do,\nto have my daughter and be called my son-in-law,\nremaining here; I would give you a house and possessions,\nif you were willing to stay; but no one will hold you back unwilling,\nnot of the Phaeacians; may that never be dear to father Zeus.\nAnd I will mark out this convoy for you, so that you may know well,\nfor tomorrow; then you, overcome by sleep,\nshall lie down, and they shall row over the calm, until you come\nto your homeland and house, and wherever is dear to you,\neven if it lies much farther off than Euboea,\nwhich they say is the farthest away, those of our people\nwho saw it, when they brought golden-haired Rhadamanthys\nto look upon Tityus, the son of Earth.\nAnd they went there and accomplished it without toil\non that same day, and came home again.\nAnd you yourself will know in your mind how the best\nmy ships are, and my young men at tossing the salt sea with the oar.\"\nSo he spoke, and the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus rejoiced,\nand praying aloud he spoke, and named the word:\n\"Father Zeus, may he bring all that he has said to fulfillment —\nAlcinous! Then his fame over the grain-giving earth\nwould be unquenchable, and I would reach my homeland.\"\nSo these two spoke such things to one another;\nand white-armed Arete commanded the handmaids\nto set a bed beneath the portico and throw on fair blankets\nof purple, and spread rugs over them,\nand put on woolen cloaks to cover him over.\nAnd they went from the hall, torches in their hands.\nBut when they had hastened and made the close-spread bed,\nthey stood beside Odysseus and urged him with words:\n\"Rise and come to bed, stranger; your bed is made.\"\nSo they spoke, and to him it seemed welcome to lie down.\nSo there the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus slept\non the pierced bed beneath the echoing portico;\nand Alcinous lay in the inmost chamber of the high house,\nand beside him his wife, the queen, made ready the bed and bedding.\n\n### Book 8\n\nWhen early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen from his bed rose the sacred strength of Alcinous,\nand up rose god-born Odysseus, sacker of cities.\nAnd the sacred strength of Alcinous led them\nto the Phaeacian assembly place, which had been built beside their ships.\nAnd coming there they sat down on the polished stones\nclose together. But Pallas Athena went through the town,\nlikened to the herald of warlike Alcinous,\ncontriving a homecoming for great-hearted Odysseus,\nand standing beside each man she spoke her word:\n\"Come now, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,\ngo to the assembly, so that you may learn of the stranger,\nwho lately came to the house of warlike Alcinous,\nwandering over the sea, in body like the deathless gods.\"\nSo speaking she stirred the strength and spirit of each man.\nSwiftly the assemblies and the seats were filled with mortals\ngathering; and many marveled, seeing him,\nthe warlike son of Laertes; and on him Athena\npoured wondrous grace over his head and shoulders,\nand made him seem taller and broader to look upon,\nso that he might be dear to all the Phaeacians\nand dread and revered, and might accomplish the contests,\nthe many which the Phaeacians made trial of Odysseus in.\nBut when they had gathered and come together,\namong them Alcinous spoke and addressed them:\n\"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,\nso that I may say what my heart in my chest urges me.\nThis stranger, I know not who he is, came wandering to my house,\neither from men of the east or of the west;\nand he urges his conveyance, and begs that it be sure.\nAnd let us, as before, urge on the conveyance.\nFor no one else, whoever comes to my house,\nstays here mourning for long because of a conveyance.\nBut come, let us drag a black ship into the shining sea,\none that has never sailed; and let two and fifty young men\nbe chosen from the district, whoever are the best before now.\nAnd when all have bound the oars well to the rowlocks,\nlet them go aboard; and then prepare a swift feast,\ncoming to my house; and I will provide well for all.\nThese things I command the young men; but the others,\nthe sceptered kings, to my beautiful house\ncome, so that we may welcome the stranger in the halls,\nand let no one refuse. And call the divine singer\nDemodocus; for to him above all the god gave song\nto delight, wherever his heart urges him to sing.\"\nSo having spoken he led the way, and they followed along,\nthe sceptered ones; and the herald went after the divine singer.\nAnd the young men chosen, two and fifty,\nwent, as he commanded, to the shore of the unharvested sea.\nBut when they had come down to the ship and the sea,\nthey dragged the black ship into the sea's depth,\nand set the mast and the sails in the black ship,\nand fitted the oars in the leather rowlocks,\nall in due order, and spread out the white sails.\nAnd they moored her high in the surf; then afterwards\nthey went to the great house of warlike Alcinous.\nAnd the porticos and the courts and the men's rooms were filled\nwith those gathering; and many there were, young and old.\nAnd to them Alcinous sacrificed twelve sheep,\nand eight white-tusked boars, and two shambling oxen;\nthey flayed them and cared for them, and made a lovely feast.\nAnd the herald came near leading the trusty singer,\nwhom the Muse loved above others, and gave him good and evil:\nshe took away his eyes, and gave him sweet song.\nAnd for him Pontonous set a silver-studded chair\nin the midst of the feasters, leaning it against a tall pillar;\nand he hung the clear lyre from a peg\nabove his head, and showed him how to take it with his hands,\nthe herald; and he set beside him a basket and a beautiful table,\nand beside him a cup of wine, to drink whenever his heart bade.\nAnd they put their hands to the ready food set before them.\nBut when they had put away desire for drink and food,\nthe Muse then stirred the singer to sing of the glorious deeds of men,\nof a song whose fame at that time reached the wide heaven,\nthe quarrel of Odysseus and Peleus' son Achilles,\nhow once they quarreled at a bountiful feast of the gods\nwith dreadful words, and the lord of men Agamemnon\nrejoiced in his heart, that the best of the Achaeans were quarreling.\nFor so had Phoebus Apollo prophesied to him\nin holy Pytho, when he crossed the stone threshold\nto consult the oracle; for then the beginning of trouble rolled on\nfor Trojans and Danaans through the will of great Zeus.\nThese things the famous singer sang; but Odysseus\ntaking his great purple cloak in his sturdy hands\npulled it down from his head and covered his beautiful face;\nfor he was ashamed to let the Phaeacians see tears beneath his brows.\nIndeed whenever the divine singer stopped singing,\nhe wiped the tear from his head and took away the cloak\nand taking the two-handled cup poured libations to the gods;\nbut whenever he began again and the best of the Phaeacians\nurged him to sing, since they were delighted with his words,\nagain Odysseus, covering his head, would groan aloud.\nThere he escaped the notice of all the others, shedding tears,\nbut Alcinous alone marked him and noticed him,\nsitting near him, and heard him groaning heavily.\nAnd straightaway he spoke to the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar:\n\"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians.\nAlready we have satisfied our hearts with the equal feast\nand with the lyre, which is companion to a bountiful feast;\nbut now let us go out and make trial of all\nthe contests, so that the stranger may tell his own friends\nwhen he has returned home, how much we surpass others\nin boxing and wrestling and in jumping and in running.\"\nSo having spoken he led the way, and they followed along.\nAnd he hung the clear lyre from a peg,\nand took Demodocus by the hand and led him from the hall,\nthe herald; and he led him the very same way as the others,\nthe best of the Phaeacians, to marvel at the contests.\nThey went to the assembly place, and with them followed a great crowd,\ncountless; and many young men stood up, both many and noble.\nUp rose Acroneos and Ocyalus and Elatreus,\nNauteus and Prymneus and Anchialus and Eretmeus,\nPonteus and Proreus, Thoon and Anabesineos,\nand Amphialus, son of Polyneus, son of Tecton;\nand up rose too Euryalus, like to man-destroying Ares,\nson of Naubolus, who was best in form and build\nof all the Phaeacians after the blameless Laodamas.\nAnd up stood the three sons of blameless Alcinous,\nLaodamas and Halius and godlike Clytoneus.\nAnd they first made trial of their feet.\nFor them a course was stretched from the starting line; and all together\nthey flew swiftly, raising dust on the plain;\nand by far the best of them at running was blameless Clytoneus;\nand as far as the mules' furrow-distance is in a fallow field,\nso far he came out ahead of the crowd, and they were left behind.\nAnd they made trial of painful wrestling;\nand here again Euryalus beat all the best.\nAnd in the jump Amphialus was most outstanding of all;\nand in the discus again Elatreus was far the best of all,\nand in boxing again Laodamas, the good son of Alcinous.\nBut when all had delighted their hearts with the contests,\nthen the son of Alcinous, Laodamas, spoke among them:\n\"Come, friends, let us ask the stranger whether he knows\nand has learned any contest. In build at least he is not bad,\nin thighs and calves and both arms above\nand in his sturdy neck and great strength; nor in his youth\nis he lacking, but he is broken down by many troubles;\nfor I say there is nothing worse than the sea\nto overwhelm a man, even if he be very strong.\"\nAnd again Euryalus answered him and said:\n\"Laodamas, this word you have spoken is very much in order.\nGo yourself now and challenge him and make known your speech.\"\nBut when the good son of Alcinous heard this,\nhe went and stood in the middle and spoke to Odysseus:\n\"Come here, you too, stranger and father, make trial of the contests,\nif you have learned any; it seems you know contests;\nfor there is no greater glory for a man as long as he lives\nthan what he achieves with his feet and his hands.\nBut come, make trial, and scatter the cares from your heart.\nAnd your voyage will no longer be far off, but already\nyour ship is drawn down and your companions are ready.\"\nAnd in answer to him spoke much-devising Odysseus:\n\"Laodamas, why do you bid me do these things, mocking me?\nCares are upon my mind rather than contests,\nI who before have suffered very many things and toiled greatly,\nand now in your assembly, longing for my homecoming,\nI sit, begging both the king and all the people.\"\nAnd again Euryalus answered him and rebuked him to his face:\n\"No, stranger, I do not liken you to a man knowing\ncontests, such as many are among men,\nbut rather to one who, haunting a many-oared ship,\na leader of sailors, who are traders,\nis mindful of cargo and a watcher of ways\nand of grasping gains; you do not look like an athlete.\"\nAnd looking at him from under his brows, much-devising Odysseus said:\n\"Stranger, you have not spoken well; you are like a reckless man.\nSo the gods do not give graceful gifts to all\nmen, neither build nor mind nor eloquence.\nFor one man is weaker in form,\nbut the god crowns his words with beauty, and others\ndelighting in him look at him; and he speaks steadfastly\nwith gentle modesty, and he stands out among those gathered,\nand as he walks through the city they look on him as a god.\nAnd another again is like the deathless gods in form,\nbut no grace encircles his words,\nas in you the form is conspicuous, and not otherwise\ncould even a god make it, but your mind is worthless.\nYou have stirred my heart in my dear chest\nby speaking out of order. But I am not ignorant of contests,\nas you say, but I think I am among the first\nwhile I trusted in my youth and my hands.\nBut now I am held by misery and pains; for I have endured many things\npassing through wars of men and painful waves.\nBut even so, having suffered many evils, I will make trial of the contests;\nfor your word bites the heart, and you stirred me by speaking.\"\nHe spoke, and sprang up and took with his own cloak a discus\ngreater and thicker, heavier by no little\nthan the one the Phaeacians used to throw among themselves.\nAnd whirling it around he sent it from his sturdy hand,\nand the stone boomed; and down to the ground crouched\nthe long-oared Phaeacians, men famous for ships,\nat the stone's cast; and it flew beyond the marks of all,\nswiftly going from his hand. And Athena set the boundaries,\nlikened in body to a man, and spoke a word and called him by name:\n\"Even a blind man, stranger, would distinguish the mark\nby feeling it, since it is not mixed with the crowd,\nbut far first. And be of good courage for this contest;\nno one of the Phaeacians will reach this, nor surpass it.\"\nSo she spoke, and much-enduring brilliant Odysseus rejoiced,\nglad that he saw a friendly comrade in the contest.\nAnd then he spoke more lightly to the Phaeacians:\n\"Now reach this mark, young men. Presently afterward another\nI think I will send, either as far as this or even farther.\nAnd of the others, whomever his heart and spirit bids,\ncome here and make trial, since you angered me greatly,\neither in boxing or wrestling or even in running, I do not grudge it,\nof all the Phaeacians, except Laodamas himself.\nFor this man is my host; who would fight with one who loves him?\nTruly that man is foolish and a worthless man,\nwhoever brings up strife over contests with a host\nin a foreign land; he cripples all his own prospects.\nBut of the others I refuse and make light of none,\nbut I wish to know and to make trial against them.\nFor I am not bad in all things, among men, as many as are contests;\nwell do I know how to handle a well-polished bow;\nfirst I would strike a man with an arrow in a crowd\nof hostile men, even if very many companions\nshould stand near and shoot arrows at men.\nOnly Philoctetes surpassed me with the bow\nin the land of the Trojans, when we Achaeans shot with bows.\nAnd of the others I say I am far better,\nas many mortals as now are on the earth eating grain.\nBut with earlier men I will not wish to contend,\nneither with Heracles nor with Eurytus of Oechalia,\nwho indeed used to vie with the deathless gods about bows.\nTherefore great Eurytus quickly died, nor to old age\ndid he come in his halls; for Apollo in anger\nkilled him, because he challenged him to shoot with the bow.\nAnd with the spear I throw as far as no one else with an arrow.\nAnd in running I fear lest one of the Phaeacians\nrun past me; for I have been terribly worn down\nin many waves, since there was no abundant\nprovision in the ship; therefore my dear limbs are loosened.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all fell silent in silence.\nAnd Alcinous alone answered him and said:\n\"Stranger, since you do not speak without grace among us,\nbut wish to reveal your excellence, which attends you,\nbeing angry because this man stood beside you in the contest\nand rebuked you, as no mortal would disparage your excellence,\nwhoever knew in his mind how to speak rightly;\nbut come now, understand my word, so that you may also tell\nanother of the heroes, when in your halls\nyou feast beside your wife and your children,\nremembering our excellence, what things to us too\nZeus lays upon our works continually from our fathers' time.\nFor we are not blameless boxers nor wrestlers,\nbut we run swiftly with our feet and are best with ships,\nand always dear to us are the feast and the cithara and dances\nand changes of clothing and warm baths and beds.\nBut come, all you Phaeacians who are the best dancers,\nplay, so that the stranger may tell his own friends\nwhen he has returned home how much we surpass others\nin seamanship and in running and in dancing and in song.\nAnd let someone go quickly and bring Demodocus the clear lyre,\nwhich lies somewhere in our house.\"\nSo spoke godlike Alcinous, and the herald rose\nto bring the hollow lyre from the king's house.\nAnd nine chosen stewards all stood up,\npublic officials, who arranged everything well at the contests,\nand they smoothed the dancing floor, and widened the good place of assembly.\nAnd the herald came near bringing the clear lyre\nto Demodocus; and he then went to the middle; and about him young men\nin first youth stood, skilled in dancing,\nand they struck the divine dancing floor with their feet. But Odysseus\ngazed at the flashing of their feet, and marveled in his heart.\nAnd the singer, playing the lyre, began to sing beautifully\nof the love of Ares and of fair-crowned Aphrodite,\nhow at first they mingled in Hephaestus' house\nin secret, and he gave many gifts, and shamed the bed and the couch\nof lord Hephaestus. And straightaway a messenger came to him,\nHelios, who perceived them mingling in love.\nAnd Hephaestus, when he heard the heart-grieving word,\nwent to his bronze forge, brooding evils in his heart,\nand set a great anvil on the anvil block, and forged bonds\nunbreakable, unloosable, so that they might stay fixed there.\nBut when he had made the snare, angry at Ares,\nhe went to the chamber, where his dear bed stood,\nand around the bedposts he poured bonds in a circle everywhere;\nand many too were spread from above, from the roof beam,\nlike thin spider webs, which no one could even see,\nnot even the blessed gods; for it was made cunningly all around.\nBut when he had poured all the snare around the bed,\nhe pretended to go to Lemnos, the well-built citadel,\nwhich of all lands is far dearest to him.\nNor did golden-reined Ares keep a blind watch,\nwhen he saw famous-craftsman Hephaestus gone away;\nhe went toward the house of renowned Hephaestus\neager for the love of fair-crowned Cytherea.\nAnd she had just come from her father, the mighty son of Cronus,\nand sat down; and he went inside the house,\nand clasped her hand, and spoke a word and called her by name:\n\"Come, dear one, let us turn to the bed and lie together;\nfor Hephaestus is no longer among his people, but somewhere already\nhe has gone to Lemnos to the wild-voiced Sintians.\"\nSo he spoke, and to her it seemed welcome to lie down.\nAnd the two went to the bed and lay down; and around them bonds\nartful, of the cunning Hephaestus, were poured,\nnor could they move any limb or lift it.\nAnd then indeed they knew that there was no more escape.\nAnd near them came the renowned lame god,\nturning back again before he reached the land of Lemnos;\nfor Helios kept watch for him and told him the word.\nHe went to his dear house, grieved at heart;\nhe stood in the doorway, and wild anger seized him;\nhe shouted terribly, and called out to all the gods:\n\"Father Zeus and other blessed gods who are forever,\ncome here, so that you may see works laughable and not to be endured,\nhow Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, because I am lame,\nalways dishonors me, and loves destructive Ares,\nbecause he is handsome and sound of foot, but I\nwas born feeble. But no one else is to blame for me,\nbut my two parents, whom I wish had not begotten me.\nBut you will see, where the two sleep in love\nhaving gone to my bed, and I am grieved looking on.\nI do not expect them to lie so for even a little while\nthough they love each other greatly; soon the two will not wish\nto sleep; but the snare and the bond will hold them,\nuntil he pays me back all the bride-gifts,\nas many as I gave him for the sake of the shameless girl,\nbecause his daughter is beautiful, but she is not chaste.\"\nSo he spoke, and the gods gathered at the bronze-floored house;\ncame Poseidon the earth-holder, came the helpful\nHermes, and came the lord, the far-working Apollo.\nBut the female goddesses stayed at home, each from modesty.\nAnd the gods stood in the doorway, givers of good things;\nand unquenchable laughter arose among the blessed gods\nas they looked at the crafts of the cunning Hephaestus.\nAnd thus one would say, looking at another near him:\n\"Evil deeds do not prosper; the slow catches the swift,\nas now Hephaestus, being slow, caught Ares,\nthough he is the swiftest of the gods who hold Olympus,\nbeing lame, by his crafts; and so the adulterer pays the penalty.\"\nSo they spoke such things to one another;\nand to Hermes spoke the lord, the son of Zeus, Apollo:\n\"Hermes, son of Zeus, guide, giver of good things,\nwould you then be willing, pressed in strong bonds,\nto sleep in bed beside golden Aphrodite?\"\nAnd the guide, the slayer of Argus, answered him then:\n\"Would that this might happen, lord Apollo, far-shooter;\nmay three times as many bonds, endless, hold me around,\nand may you gods and all the goddesses look on,\nand may I sleep beside golden Aphrodite.\"\nSo he spoke, and laughter arose among the deathless gods.\nBut laughter did not hold Poseidon, and he kept begging\nfamous-craftsman Hephaestus to release Ares.\nAnd speaking he addressed him with winged words:\n\"Release him; and I promise you myself, as you bid,\nhe will pay all that is fitting among the deathless gods.\"\nAnd again the renowned lame god answered him:\n\"Do not, Poseidon the earth-holder, command these things of me;\nfor the pledges of the wretched are wretched pledges.\nHow could I bind you among the deathless gods,\nif Ares should go off, escaping his debt and the bond?\"\nAnd again Poseidon the earth-shaker answered him:\n\"Hephaestus, if indeed Ares escapes his debt\nand goes off in flight, I myself will pay you this.\"\nAnd again the renowned lame god answered him:\n\"It is not possible nor fitting to deny your word.\"\nSo speaking he loosed the bond, the strength of Hephaestus.\nAnd the two, when they were loosed from the bond, strong as it was,\nstraightaway sprang up, and he went off to Thrace,\nand she reached Cyprus, laughter-loving Aphrodite,\nto Paphos; where she has a precinct and a fragrant altar.\nThere the Graces bathed her and anointed her with oil\nimmortal, such as is upon the gods who are forever,\nand put lovely clothing around her, a wonder to see.\nThese things the famous singer sang; but Odysseus\nwas delighted in his own heart as he listened, and so too the others,\nthe long-oared Phaeacians, men famous for ships.\nAnd Alcinous bade Halius and Laodamas\ndance alone, since no one contended with them.\nAnd when they had taken in their hands the beautiful ball,\na purple one, which warlike Polybus had made for them,\none of them would throw it toward the shadowy clouds\nleaning backward, and the other, springing up from the ground,\nwould easily catch it, before his feet reached the floor.\nBut when they had made trial of the ball in a straight line,\nthen they danced on the much-nourishing earth,\nswiftly changing places; and the other young men cried out\nstanding around the place of assembly, and a great din arose.\nThen brilliant Odysseus spoke to Alcinous:\n\"Lord Alcinous, most conspicuous of all peoples,\nyou declared that your dancers are the best,\nand indeed it has been made ready; awe holds me as I look on.\"\nSo he spoke, and the sacred strength of Alcinous rejoiced,\nand straightaway he spoke to the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar:\n\"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians.\nThis stranger seems to me to be very prudent.\nBut come, let us give him a guest-gift, as is fitting.\nFor twelve conspicuous kings throughout the district\nrule as leaders, and I myself am the thirteenth;\nof them let each bring him a well-washed cloak and tunic\nand a talent of precious gold.\nAnd let us quickly bring everything together, so that in his hands\nthe stranger may have them and go rejoicing in heart to dinner.\nAnd let Euryalus make amends to him with words\nand with a gift, since he did not speak a word in order.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all approved and ordered it,\nand each sent a herald to bring the gifts.\nAnd again Euryalus answered him and said:\n\"Lord Alcinous, most conspicuous of all peoples,\ntherefore I will make amends to the stranger, as you bid.\nI will give him this all-bronze sword, on which the hilt\nis silver, and the scabbard of newly cut ivory\nis fitted around it; and it will be worth much to him.\"\nSo speaking he placed in his hands the silver-studded sword\nand speaking addressed him with winged words:\n\"Hail, father stranger; and if any word has gone\namiss, may the storm winds snatch it away at once.\nAnd to you may the gods grant to see your wife and reach your fatherland,\nsince you have long suffered hardships away from your loved ones.\"\nAnd in answer to him spoke much-devising Odysseus:\n\"And you, friend, rejoice greatly, and may the gods give you prosperity.\nAnd may you never afterward regret this sword,\nwhich you have given me, making amends with words.\"\nHe spoke, and put the silver-studded sword over his shoulders.\nAnd the sun set, and the glorious gifts were at hand.\nAnd the noble heralds carried them to Alcinous' house;\nand receiving them the sons of blameless Alcinous\nplaced the very beautiful gifts beside their revered mother.\nAnd the sacred strength of Alcinous led them,\nand when they had come they sat down on the high seats.\nThen indeed the strength of Alcinous spoke to Arete:\n\"Come, wife, bring a conspicuous chest, the best there is;\nand put in it yourself a well-washed cloak and tunic.\nAnd warm a bronze vessel over the fire for him, and heat water,\nso that when he has bathed and seen all the gifts\nwell laid out, which the blameless Phaeacians brought here,\nhe may delight in the feast and hear the hymn of song.\nAnd I will give him this beautiful cup of mine,\ngolden, so that remembering me all his days\nhe may pour libations in his hall to Zeus and the other gods.\"\nSo he spoke, and Arete told the maidservants\nto set a great tripod over the fire as quickly as possible.\nAnd they set the bath-water tripod in the blazing fire,\nand poured water in it, and taking wood kindled it underneath.\nThe fire encompassed the belly of the tripod, and the water heated;\nmeanwhile Arete brought out for the stranger the very beautiful chest\nfrom the chamber, and placed in it the beautiful gifts,\nclothing and gold, which the Phaeacians had given him;\nand she herself put in it a cloak and a beautiful tunic,\nand speaking addressed him with winged words:\n\"Now look to the lid yourself, and quickly put on the seal,\nlest someone harm you on the way, whenever again\nyou sleep a sweet sleep going in the black ship.\"\nBut when much-enduring brilliant Odysseus heard this,\nhe straightaway fitted the lid, and quickly put on the cunning\nseal, which lady Circe once taught him in her mind;\nand at once the housekeeper bade him bathe,\nentering the bath; and he gladly in his heart saw\nthe warm baths, since he had not often had such care,\nsince he left the house of fair-haired Calypso.\nMeanwhile his care was as steady as a god's.\nAnd when the maidservants had bathed him and anointed him with oil,\nand thrown a beautiful cloak and tunic around him,\nhe came out of the bath and went to the wine-drinking men;\nand Nausicaa, who had beauty from the gods,\nstood beside the doorpost of the well-built roof,\nand marveled as she looked on Odysseus with her eyes,\nand speaking addressed him with winged words:\n\"Hail, stranger, so that sometime when you are in your fatherland\nyou may remember me, because you owe me first the price of your life.\"\nAnd in answer to her spoke much-devising Odysseus:\n\"Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,\nso may Zeus bring it about, the loud-thundering husband of Hera,\nthat you come home and see the day of your return;\nthen I would pray to you even there as to a god\nalways all my days; for you saved my life, maiden.\"\nHe spoke, and sat down on a seat beside King Alcinous;\nand they were already serving portions and mixing wine.\nAnd the herald came near leading the trusty singer,\nDemodocus, honored by the people; and he seated him\nin the midst of the feasters, leaning him against a tall pillar.\nThen much-devising Odysseus spoke to the herald,\ncutting off from the back, and more was left over,\nof a white-tusked boar, and rich fat was around it:\n\"Herald, here, give this meat to Demodocus,\nso that he may eat; and I will greet him though I am grieving;\nfor to all men upon the earth singers\nhave a share of honor and reverence, because the Muse\ntaught them songs, and she loved the tribe of singers.\"\nSo he spoke, and the herald brought it and placed it in his hands,\nto the hero Demodocus; and he received it, and rejoiced in his heart.\nAnd they put their hands to the ready food set before them.\nBut when they had put away desire for drink and food,\nthen much-devising Odysseus spoke to Demodocus:\n\"Demodocus, above all mortals I praise you exceedingly.\nEither the Muse taught you, child of Zeus, or Apollo;\nfor very much in order you sing the fate of the Achaeans,\nall that they did and suffered and all that the Achaeans toiled,\nas if you had been there yourself or heard from another.\nBut come now, change and sing the fashioning of the horse\nof wood, which Epeius made with Athena,\nwhich brilliant Odysseus once brought to the citadel as a trick,\nfilling it with men who sacked Ilion.\nIf you will recount these things to me in order,\nstraightaway I will tell all men\nthat a god willingly granted you divine song.\"\nSo he spoke, and the singer, starting from the god, began and revealed his song,\ntaking it up from the point where they, on their well-benched ships,\nwent and sailed away, having set fire to their huts,\nthe Argives, and those others with glorious Odysseus\nsat in the Trojans' assembly place, hidden in the horse;\nfor the Trojans themselves had dragged it to the citadel.\nSo it stood there, and they spoke many indecisive things,\nsitting around it; and the counsel pleased them three ways,\neither to cut the hollow wood with pitiless bronze,\nor to drag it up and throw it from the rocks on the height,\nor to let it be a great offering, a charm for the gods,\nin which way indeed it was afterward going to be accomplished;\nfor it was fated that they perish, when the city enclosed\nthe great wooden horse, where all the best\nof the Argives sat, bringing slaughter and death to the Trojans.\nAnd he sang how the sons of the Achaeans sacked the city,\npouring out from the horse, leaving the hollow ambush.\nAnd he sang how one man laid waste the steep city here, another there,\nbut Odysseus went to the house of Deiphobus\nlike Ares together with godlike Menelaus.\nThere indeed he said that, having dared the most terrible war,\nhe conquered, and then through great-hearted Athena.\nThese things the famous singer sang; but Odysseus\nmelted, and wet his cheeks with tears beneath his eyelids.\nAs when a woman weeps, falling upon her dear husband,\nwho has fallen before his city and his people,\ndefending his town and children from the pitiless day;\nand she, seeing him dying and gasping,\nfalls upon him and wails shrilly; and others behind her\nstriking her back and shoulders with spears\nlead her into slavery, to have toil and misery;\nand her cheeks waste away with most pitiable grief;\nso Odysseus shed a pitiable tear beneath his brows.\nThere he escaped the notice of all the others, shedding tears,\nbut Alcinous alone marked him and noticed him,\nsitting near him, and heard him groaning heavily.\nAnd straightaway he spoke to the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar:\n\"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,\nand let Demodocus now hold his clear lyre;\nfor he does not sing these things pleasing to all alike.\nFrom the time we began to dine and the divine singer rose,\nfrom then the stranger has not yet ceased from woeful lamenting;\nsurely grief has greatly encompassed his mind.\nBut come, let him hold it, so that we may all alike be delighted,\nboth hosts and guest, since that is far better;\nfor it has been done for the sake of the revered stranger,\nthe conveyance and the dear gifts, which we give him in love.\nFor a stranger and a suppliant is like a brother\nto a man, who touches his heart even a little.\nTherefore now do not hide in cunning thoughts\nwhatever I may ask you; and it is better for you to speak.\nTell me the name that your mother and father called you there,\nand the others who are in the city and those who dwell around it.\nFor no man at all is nameless among humans,\nneither base nor noble, once he is first born,\nbut parents put a name on all, when they have children.\nAnd tell me your land, your district and your city,\nso that our ships may convey you there, aiming with their minds;\nfor the Phaeacians have no steersmen,\nnor are there any rudders, which other ships have;\nbut the ships themselves know the thoughts and minds of men,\nand they know all the cities and rich fields\nof men, and they cross the gulf of the sea most swiftly\ncovered in mist and cloud; nor is there ever for them\nany fear of being harmed or perishing.\nBut this, as I once heard my father saying,\nNausithous, who said that Poseidon was angry\nwith us, because we are blameless escorts for all.\nHe said that once a well-built ship of Phaeacian men,\nreturning from a convoy in the misty sea,\nwould be struck, and a great mountain would cover our city.\nSo the old man spoke; and the god might either accomplish\nor leave unaccomplished these things, as was dear to his heart.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it accurately,\nwhere you wandered and which lands\nof men you came to, both themselves and their well-inhabited cities,\nboth those who are harsh and savage and not just,\nand those who are hospitable, and whose mind is god-fearing.\nAnd tell me why you weep and lament within your heart\nhearing the fate of the Argive Danaans and of Ilion.\nThe gods made that, and spun destruction\nfor men, so that there might be song even for those to come.\nDid some kinsman of yours also perish before Ilion,\nbeing noble, a son-in-law or father-in-law, who are most\nnear and dear after one's own blood and family?\nOr perhaps some companion, a man knowing gracious things,\nnoble? Since he is in no way worse than a brother,\nwhoever, being a companion, knows prudent things.\n\n### Book 9\n\nThen many-counselled Odysseus answered him and said:\n\"Alcinous, lord, most shining glory of all your people,\ntruly it is a lovely thing to listen to a singer\nsuch as this man is, whose voice is like the gods'.\nFor I declare no more gracious end can ever be\nthan when gladness holds the whole assembled people,\nand the feasters through the halls give ear unto the singer,\nseated in order, while the tables stand all laden\nwith bread and meats, and drawing wine out of the mixing bowl\nthe cupbearer carries it round and pours into the cups.\nThis seems to me the fairest thing within my heart.\nBut your heart has been moved to ask about my sorrows,\nmy lamentable griefs, that I may grieve yet more and groan.\nWhat then shall I tell you first, and what shall I tell you last?\nFor the gods, the dwellers in heaven, have given me many sorrows.\nBut now I will first tell my name, so that you also\nmay know it, and I hereafter, escaping the pitiless day,\nmay be your guest-friend, though I dwell in homes far off.\nI am Odysseus, son of Laertes, who among all men\nam known for every kind of cunning, and my fame reaches heaven.\nI dwell in Ithaca, a land of clear light; and in it is a mountain,\nNeriton, quivering with leaves, most conspicuous; and around it\nmany islands lie, exceedingly close to one another,\nDulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus.\nBut Ithaca itself lies low, farthest out in the sea,\ntoward the darkness, while the others lie apart toward the dawn and the sun,\na rugged land, yet a good nurse of men; nor can I\nsee any other land more sweet than my own land.\nTruly Calypso, shining among goddesses, held me there\nin her hollow caves, longing that I should be her husband;\nand in like manner Circe the guileful detained me in her halls,\nin Aeaea, longing that I should be her husband;\nbut they never persuaded the heart within my breast.\nSo nothing is sweeter than a man's own country and his parents,\nnot even if one dwells far off in a rich house\nin an alien land, far away from his parents.\nBut come, I will tell you too of my sorrowful homecoming,\nwhich Zeus laid upon me as I set out from Troy.\nFrom Troy the wind bore me and brought me to the Cicones,\nto Ismarus. There I sacked the city and destroyed the men;\nand taking the wives and many possessions from the city\nwe divided them, so that no man should go short of his equal share.\nThere I urged my men to flee with nimble feet,\nbut they, great fools, would not obey me.\nThere much wine was drunk, and many sheep\nthey slaughtered on the shore, and oxen of rolling gait and crumpled horns.\nMeanwhile the Cicones who had gone off called to the other Cicones,\nwho were their neighbours, more numerous and more valiant,\ndwelling on the mainland, skilled to fight against men\nfrom horses, and on foot where it was needful so to fight.\nThen they came, as many as the leaves and flowers in springtime,\nat dawn; and then the evil fate of Zeus stood by us,\nfor us ill-fated men, that we might suffer many griefs.\nForming their ranks they fought a battle beside the swift ships,\nand they hurled at one another their bronze-tipped spears.\nSo long as morning was, and the sacred day grew,\nso long we stood defending and held against their greater numbers.\nBut when the sun turned toward the time of unyoking oxen,\nthen the Cicones broke and routed the Achaeans.\nAnd from each ship six well-greaved comrades\nperished; and we others fled death and doom.\nThence we sailed onward, grieving at heart,\nglad to have escaped death, but having lost our dear companions.\nNor did my curved ships move onward\nbefore we had cried out three times to each of the wretched men\nwho died, slain on the plain beneath the Cicones.\nBut upon our ships Zeus the cloud-gatherer roused the North Wind\nwith a wondrous squall, and with clouds he covered\nearth together with sea; and night rushed down from heaven.\nThen the ships were borne headlong, and the sails\nthe force of the wind tore into three and into four pieces.\nAnd these we lowered into the ships, fearing destruction,\nand rowed the ships onward swiftly toward the mainland.\nThere for two nights and two days together, always,\nwe lay, eating our hearts out with toil and with grief.\nBut when the third day was brought to its end by fair-haired Dawn,\nwe set up the masts and hoisted the white sails\nand sat us down, and the wind and the helmsmen steered the ships.\nAnd now I would have come unharmed to my native land,\nbut the wave and the current, as I rounded Malea,\nand the North Wind drove me back, and I was carried past Cythera.\nThence for nine days I was borne by destructive winds\nover the fish-filled sea; but on the tenth we set foot\non the land of the Lotus-eaters, who eat a flowery food.\nThere we went ashore and drew water,\nand quickly my comrades took their meal beside the swift ships.\nBut when we had eaten our food and our drink,\nthen I sent my comrades to go and learn\nwhat men they were who ate bread upon that land,\nchoosing two men, and sending a herald as a third with them.\nThey went quickly and mingled with the Lotus-eating men;\nnor did the Lotus-eaters devise destruction for my comrades,\nbut they gave them the lotus to taste.\nAnd whoever of them ate the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus,\nno longer wished to report back or to return home,\nbut they wished to stay there among the Lotus-eating men,\nfeeding on the lotus, and to forget their homecoming.\nThese I brought to the ships, weeping, by force,\nand I dragged them into the hollow ships and bound them beneath the benches.\nAnd the rest of my trusty comrades I ordered\nto hurry and board the swift ships,\nlest anyone eat the lotus and forget his homecoming.\nThey quickly boarded and sat at the rowing benches,\nand sitting in order they struck the grey sea with their oars.\nThence we sailed onward, grieving at heart,\nand we came to the land of the Cyclopes, the overbearing, lawless folk,\nwho, trusting in the immortal gods,\nneither plant any plant with their hands nor plough the earth,\nbut all these things grow unsown and unploughed,\nwheat and barley and vines, which bear\nwine of noble clusters, and the rain of Zeus makes them grow.\nThey have no councils for counsel nor ordinances,\nbut they dwell on the peaks of high mountains\nin hollow caves, and each one gives laws\nto his children and his wife, and they care nothing for one another.\nThen there is a low island lying just off the harbour,\nneither near the land of the Cyclopes nor far from it,\nwooded; and in it countless wild goats have been born;\nfor no path of men keeps them away,\nnor do hunters enter it, who through the woodland\nsuffer hardships, following the peaks of the mountains.\nNor is it held by flocks nor ploughed by men,\nbut all its days it stands unsown and unploughed,\nempty of men, and it feeds bleating goats.\nFor the Cyclopes have no ships with red-painted cheeks,\nand there are no shipwrights among them, who might build\nwell-benched ships, which could accomplish everything\nby reaching the towns of men, all the many places\nwhere men cross the sea in ships to one another's lands,\nmen who might also have built them a well-settled island.\nFor it is not at all a bad land, but would bear all things in season;\nfor in it are meadows along the shores of the grey sea,\nwell-watered and soft; unfailing vines would grow there.\nAnd in it is smooth ploughland; they would reap a deep harvest\nalways in season, for the soil beneath is very rich.\nAnd in it is a good harbour, where there is no need of a cable,\nnor to cast anchor stones nor to tie stern-ropes,\nbut to beach the ship and wait for the time until the sailors'\nhearts urge them and the breezes blow.\nAnd at the head of the harbour bright water flows,\na spring beneath a cave; and around it black poplars grow.\nThere we sailed in, and some god guided us\nthrough the dark night, and we could not see by the light;\nfor a deep mist lay about the ships, nor did the moon\nshine forth from heaven, and it was covered with clouds.\nSo no one saw that island with his eyes,\nnor did we see the long waves rolling toward the shore,\nbefore we had beached the well-benched ships.\nAnd when the ships were beached, we lowered all the sails,\nand we ourselves too went out upon the wave-beat shore;\nthere we fell asleep and waited for shining Dawn.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nwondering at the island, we wandered about it.\nAnd the nymphs, daughters of Zeus the shield-bearer, roused\nmountain goats, so that my comrades might have their dinner.\nStraightway we took our curved bows and long-shafted javelins\nfrom the ships, and divided into three groups we\nthrew; and a god soon gave us a satisfying hunt.\nTwelve ships followed me, and to each ship\nnine goats fell by lot; and for me alone they set apart ten.\nSo then for the whole day until the sun went down\nwe sat feasting on countless flesh and sweet wine;\nfor the red wine from the ships was not yet gone,\nbut remained; for much we had drawn in amphorae\nfrom the Cicones, when we took the sacred citadel.\nAnd we looked at the land of the Cyclopes, who were near,\nand at their smoke and their voices, and those of their sheep and goats.\nBut when the sun had set and darkness came,\nthen we slept upon the wave-beat shore.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen I called an assembly and spoke among them all:\n'You others now remain here, my trusty comrades;\nbut I with my own ship and with my own comrades\nwill go and try these men, and learn who they are,\nwhether they are violent and savage and not just,\nor kind to strangers, and have a god-fearing mind.'\nSo speaking I went aboard the ship, and I ordered my comrades\nto embark themselves and loose the stern-cables.\nThey quickly boarded and sat at the rowing benches,\nand sitting in order they struck the grey sea with their oars.\nBut when we came to that place, it being near,\nthere at the edge we saw a cave hard by the sea,\nhigh, roofed over with laurels. There many\nflocks, sheep and goats, used to sleep; and around it a courtyard\nhigh had been built of stones set in the ground\nand of long pines and high-crowned oaks.\nThere a monstrous man used to sleep, who alone\npastured his flocks, far off; nor did he go about\namong others, but dwelling apart he knew lawless things.\nFor he had been made a monstrous wonder, and did not resemble\na man who eats bread, but rather a wooded peak\nof the high mountains, which appears alone apart from the others.\nThen I ordered the rest of my trusty comrades\nto stay there by the ship and to guard the ship,\nbut I chose twelve of my comrades, the best of them,\nand went; and I had a goatskin of dark wine,\nsweet, which Maron gave me, son of Euanthes,\npriest of Apollo, who guarded Ismarus,\nbecause we had sheltered him with his child and his wife\nout of reverence; for he dwelt in a wooded grove\nof Phoebus Apollo. And he gave me splendid gifts:\nhe gave me seven talents of well-wrought gold,\nand he gave me a mixing bowl all of silver, and then\ndrawing off wine into twelve amphorae in all,\nsweet, unmixed, a divine drink; nor did any\nof his slaves or handmaids in the house know of it,\nbut he himself and his dear wife and one housekeeper alone.\nAnd when they drank that honey-sweet red wine,\nhe would fill one cup with water, and twenty measures\nhe would pour in; and a sweet fragrance from the mixing bowl\nrose up, wondrous; then it was not easy to hold back from it.\nOf this I filled a great goatskin and carried it, and also\nfood in a basket; for at once my proud heart guessed\nthat a man would come upon us, clothed in great might,\nsavage, one who knew neither justice nor ordinances.\nSwiftly we came to the cave, but we did not find him\nwithin, but he was pasturing his flocks on the rich pasture.\nEntering the cave, we looked at everything.\nThe baskets were heavy with cheeses, and the pens were crowded\nwith lambs and kids; and each kind was penned\napart, the older ones apart, the middle ones apart,\nand the newborn apart. And all the vessels were full of whey,\ncrates and bowls, well-made, in which he milked.\nThen at the first my comrades begged me with words\nto take some of the cheeses and go back again, and then\nquickly to drive the kids and lambs from the pens\nto the swift ship and sail over the salt water;\nbut I would not obey, and truly it would have been far better,\nin order that I might see him, and see whether he would give me guest-gifts.\nBut he was not to appear to my comrades as a welcome sight.\nThere we lit a fire and made sacrifice, and we ourselves\ntook some of the cheeses and ate, and we waited for him within,\nsitting, until he came herding. And he carried a mighty burden\nof dry wood, so that he might have it for his supper;\nand throwing it down inside the cave he made a din.\nAnd we, afraid, rushed away to the inner recess of the cave.\nBut he drove his fat flocks into the wide cave,\nall those he milked; but he left the males outside the door,\nthe rams and the he-goats, outside the deep courtyard.\nThen he lifted and set in place a great door-stone,\na mighty one; not even two-and-twenty\ngood four-wheeled wagons could have shifted it from the ground;\nso huge a rock he set in the doorway.\nSitting down he milked the sheep and the bleating goats,\nall in due order, and he put a suckling under each.\nStraightway he curdled half the white milk\nand gathered it into woven baskets and set it down,\nand the other half he set in vessels, so that it might be there\nfor him to take and drink, and be there for his supper.\nBut when he had hurried and finished his work,\nthen he kindled a fire and saw us, and asked us:\n'Strangers, who are you? From where do you sail the watery ways?\nIs it for some business, or do you wander at random,\nlike pirates over the sea, who wander about\nstaking their lives, bringing harm to strangers?'\nSo he spoke, and our own dear hearts were broken within us,\nas we feared his heavy voice and the huge man himself.\nBut even so I answered him and spoke in words:\n'We are Achaeans, driven off course from Troy\nby all sorts of winds over the great gulf of the sea,\nhastening homeward, but by another road and other ways\nwe have come; so, I suppose, Zeus willed it to be devised.\nAnd we claim to be the people of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,\nwhose fame is now the greatest under heaven;\nfor he sacked so great a city and destroyed many\npeoples. And we, coming to your knees as suppliants,\nhave come, in case you might give us a guest-gift, or otherwise\ngrant us a gift, which is the custom for strangers.\nBut have respect, best of men, for the gods; we are your suppliants,\nand Zeus is the avenger of suppliants and of strangers,\nthe protector of guests, who attends upon reverend strangers.'\nSo I spoke, and he answered me at once with a pitiless heart:\n'You are a fool, stranger, or you have come from far away,\nwho bid me to fear the gods or to avoid them;\nfor the Cyclopes care nothing for Zeus the shield-bearer\nnor for the blessed gods, since we are far stronger;\nnor would I, to avoid the hatred of Zeus, spare\neither you or your comrades, unless my heart bade me.\nBut tell me where you moored your well-made ship,\nwhether somewhere at the edge, or near, so that I may know.'\nSo he spoke, testing me, but I was not unaware, knowing many things,\nbut I answered him again with guileful words:\n'Poseidon the earth-shaker has broken my ship\nhurling it against the rocks at the borders of your land,\ndriving it onto a headland; and the wind bore it in from the sea;\nbut I with these men here escaped sheer destruction.'\nSo I spoke, but he answered me nothing with his pitiless heart,\nbut he sprang up and laid his hands upon my comrades,\nand snatching two of them he dashed them on the ground like puppies,\nand their brains ran down to the earth and wetted the ground.\nThen cutting them limb from limb he made ready his supper;\nand he ate like a mountain-bred lion, and left nothing behind,\nneither entrails nor flesh nor bones with marrow.\nAnd we, weeping, held up our hands to Zeus,\nseeing these dreadful deeds, and helplessness held our hearts.\nBut when the Cyclops had filled his great belly\neating human flesh and drinking unmixed milk,\nhe lay down within the cave, stretched out among his flocks.\nThen I planned in my great-hearted spirit\nto go near him, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,\nand strike him in the chest, where the midriff holds the liver,\nfeeling with my hand; but another thought held me back.\nFor there we too would have perished in sheer destruction;\nfor we could not have pushed back with our hands the high\ndoor-stone, the mighty rock which he had set in place.\nSo then, groaning, we waited for shining Dawn.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen he kindled a fire and milked his famous flocks,\nall in due order, and he put a suckling under each.\nBut when he had hurried and finished his work,\nthen he snatched two more of us and made ready his meal.\nAfter eating, he drove his fat flocks out of the cave,\neasily lifting away the great door-stone; and then\nhe set it back, as if he were putting a lid upon a quiver.\nWith loud whistling the Cyclops turned his fat flocks toward the mountain;\nbut I was left behind, brooding on evil in my heart,\nwhether I might somehow take revenge, if Athena would grant me glory.\nAnd this plan seemed best to me in my heart.\nFor there lay the Cyclops' great club beside the pen,\ngreen and of olive wood; he had cut it, so that he might carry it\nwhen it had dried. We judged it, looking at it,\nto be as large as the mast of a ship of twenty oars, black,\na broad merchant ship, which crosses the great gulf;\nso long was it, so thick to look upon.\nFrom it I stood and cut off about a fathom's length\nand laid it beside my comrades, and told them to smooth it;\nthey made it even; and I stood and sharpened\nthe point, and taking it at once I hardened it in the blazing fire.\nAnd I laid it carefully, hiding it under the dung,\nwhich lay spread through the cave in great heaps;\nand I ordered the others to cast lots by shaking,\nwhoever would dare with me to lift the stake\nand grind it in his eye, whenever sweet sleep came upon him.\nAnd the lot fell to those whom I myself would have chosen,\nfour of them, and I chose myself as fifth among them.\nIn the evening he came, herding his fair-fleeced flocks.\nStraightway he drove his fat flocks into the wide cave,\nall of them, and left nothing outside the deep courtyard,\neither because he suspected something, or a god so bade him.\nThen he lifted and set in place the great door-stone,\nand sitting down he milked the sheep and the bleating goats,\nall in due order, and he put a suckling under each.\nBut when he had hurried and finished his work,\nthen he snatched two more of us and made ready his supper.\nAnd then I stood near the Cyclops and spoke to him,\nholding in my hands a cup of dark wine:\n'Cyclops, here, drink wine, since you have eaten human flesh,\nso that you may know what kind of drink our ship\nwas carrying. And I brought it as a drink-offering for you, in case you would pity me\nand send me home; but you are raging beyond all bearing.\nWretch, how could any other man hereafter come to you\namong the many, since you have acted against what is right?'\nSo I spoke, and he took it and drank it; and he was wondrously pleased\ndrinking the sweet drink, and he asked me for a second:\n'Give me more readily, and tell me your name\nat once now, so that I may give you a guest-gift that you will enjoy;\nfor the grain-giving earth bears for the Cyclopes\nwine of noble clusters, and the rain of Zeus makes it grow;\nbut this is a stream of ambrosia and of nectar.'\nSo he spoke, and I gave him the flaming wine again.\nThree times I gave it, bearing it, and three times he drank in his folly.\nBut when the wine had come into the Cyclops' wits,\nthen I spoke to him with honeyed words:\n'Cyclops, you ask me my famous name, and I\nwill tell you; but you must give me the guest-gift, as you promised.\nNobody is my name; and Nobody is what they call me,\nmy mother and my father and all my other comrades.'\nSo I spoke, and he answered me at once with a pitiless heart:\n'Nobody I will eat last, after his comrades,\nand the others first; that shall be your guest-gift.'\nHe spoke, and leaning back he fell on his back, and then\nhe lay with his thick neck twisted aside, and sleep\nthe all-subduer seized him; and from his throat poured out wine\nand pieces of human flesh; and he belched, heavy with wine.\nAnd then I thrust the stake under much ash,\nuntil it should grow warm; and with words I encouraged\nall my comrades, so that none might shrink back through fear.\nBut when the olive-wood stake was about to catch\nin the fire, green though it was, and glowed terribly,\nthen I brought it near out of the fire, and around me my comrades\nstood; and a god breathed great courage into us.\nThey took the olive-wood stake, sharp at the point,\nand thrust it into his eye; and I, pressing down from above,\nturned it, as when a man bores a ship's timber\nwith a drill, and others below keep it spinning with a strap\nthat they have fastened on both sides, and it runs on without ceasing.\nSo we took the fire-sharpened stake in his eye and turned it,\nand the blood flowed all around it, hot as it was.\nAnd the steam singed all his eyelids and his eyebrows,\nas the eyeball burned, and its roots crackled in the fire.\nAs when a smith dips a great axe or an adze\nin cold water, and it hisses loudly,\ntempering it; for that is the strength of iron,\nso his eye hissed around the olive-wood stake.\nAnd he bellowed terribly, and the rock echoed around,\nand we, afraid, rushed back; but he\ndrew the stake out of his eye, all smeared with much blood.\nThen he threw it from him with his hands, frantic,\nand he shouted loudly to the Cyclopes, who lived\naround him in caves along the windy peaks.\nThey heard his shout and came running from all sides,\nand standing around the cave they asked what troubled him:\n'Why, Polyphemus, have you cried out so in your grief\nthrough the immortal night, and made us sleepless?\nSurely no mortal is driving your flocks away against your will?\nSurely no one is killing you by guile or by force?'\nAnd mighty Polyphemus answered them from the cave:\n'My friends, Nobody is killing me by guile and not by force.'\nAnd they answered him and spoke winged words:\n'If then no one is doing you violence, you being alone,\nthen it is not possible to avoid the sickness of great Zeus;\nbut pray to lord Poseidon, your father.'\nSo they spoke and went away, and my own dear heart laughed,\nhow my name and my blameless cunning had deceived him.\nAnd the Cyclops, groaning and gripped by pangs of pain,\ngroping with his hands took the stone from the doorway\nand sat himself down in the doorway, stretching out his hands,\nin case he might catch someone going out among the sheep;\nfor so he thought me to be a fool in his heart.\nBut I planned how it might be best of all,\nif I could find for my comrades and for myself\nsome deliverance from death; and I wove all kinds of guile and cunning\nas if for my very life; for a great evil was at hand.\nAnd this plan seemed best to me in my heart.\nThere were well-fed rams, thick-fleeced,\nbeautiful and large, with wool of violet dark.\nThese I silently bound together with well-twisted withes,\non which the monstrous Cyclops, knowing lawless things, used to sleep,\ntaking them three abreast; and the middle one carried a man,\nand the other two on either side went protecting the comrades.\nSo three men were carried by each sheep; but I,\nfor there was a ram, by far the best of all the flocks,\ntaking hold of his back, I curled beneath his shaggy belly\nand lay there; and with my hands, clutching the wondrous wool,\nI clung unceasingly, twisted in, with a patient heart.\nSo then, groaning, we waited for shining Dawn.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen the male flocks rushed out to the pasture,\nbut the females bleated unmilked around the pens;\nfor their udders were bursting. And the master, tormented\nby cruel pains, touched the backs of all the sheep\nas they stood upright; but the fool did not notice\nthat beneath the woolly sheep his men were bound to their chests.\nLast of the flock the ram came out through the doorway,\nweighed down by his wool and by me, thinking close thoughts.\nAnd mighty Polyphemus touched him and spoke:\n'Dear ram, why do you come through the cave last of the flock?\nNever before have you come left behind the sheep,\nbut you grazed far first among the tender flowers of grass,\nstriding far, and first you reached the streams of rivers,\nand first you longed to return to the sheepfold\nin the evening; now you are last of all. Surely you long for your master's\neye, which a wicked man blinded\nwith his wretched comrades, after his wits were overcome with wine,\nNobody, whom I say has not yet escaped destruction.\nIf only you could think as I do and find voice\nto tell me where that man is escaping my fury;\nthen his brains would be dashed through the cave, here and there,\nas he is struck, upon the floor, and my heart\nwould be eased of the griefs that worthless Nobody gave me.'\nSo speaking he sent the ram out from him through the doorway.\nAnd when we had gone a little from the cave and the courtyard,\nfirst I loosed myself from under the ram, and I loosed my comrades.\nAnd quickly, the sheep with long feet and rich with fat,\nmany of them, we drove, turning them about, until we came\nto the ship. And we appeared welcome to our dear comrades,\nwe who had escaped death; but for the others they groaned and wept.\nBut I would not let them, and I nodded to each with my brows,\nto weep, but I ordered them quickly to throw the many\nfair-fleeced sheep into the ship and sail over the salt water.\nThey quickly boarded and sat at the rowing benches,\nand sitting in order they struck the grey sea with their oars.\nBut when we were as far off as a man's shout carries,\nthen I spoke to the Cyclops with mocking words:\n'Cyclops, you were not to eat the comrades of a weak man\nin your hollow cave by your brute force.\nAnd your evil deeds were certainly to catch up with you,\nwretch, since you did not shrink from eating your guests\nin your own house; therefore Zeus has punished you, and the other gods.'\nSo I spoke, and he was angered still more in his heart,\nand he broke off the peak of a great mountain and hurled it,\nand it fell in front of the dark-prowed ship,\na little short, and it lacked but a little of reaching the tip of the steering-oar.\nAnd the sea was stirred up as the rock came down;\nand the back-rushing wave carried it straight for the shore,\na flood from the deep, and forced it to reach the land.\nBut I took in my hands a long pole\nand pushed it off, and urging on my comrades I ordered them\nto fall to the oars, so that we might escape disaster,\nnodding with my head; and they leaned forward and rowed.\nBut when we had gone twice as far over the sea,\nthen I spoke to the Cyclops; and around me my comrades\nheld me back from one side and another with gentle words:\n'Wretch, why do you wish to provoke a savage man,\nwho even now has thrown a missile into the sea and driven the ship\nback to the land, and we thought we had perished there.\nAnd if he hears the voice or the speech of any of us,\nhe will smash our heads and the ship's timbers together,\nhurling a jagged rock; for so far does he throw.'\nSo they spoke, but they did not persuade my great-hearted spirit,\nbut I answered him again with an angry heart:\n'Cyclops, if any mortal man\nasks you about the shameful blinding of your eye,\nsay that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, blinded you,\nson of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.'\nSo I spoke, and he groaned and answered me with words:\n'Alas, truly the old prophecies have come upon me.\nThere was a prophet here, a man good and great,\nTelemus, son of Eurymus, who was skilled in prophecy\nand grew old among the Cyclopes prophesying;\nhe told me that all these things would come to pass hereafter,\nthat I should lose my sight at the hands of Odysseus.\nBut I always expected some man great and handsome\nto come here, clothed in great might;\nbut now a man who is small and worthless and feeble\nhas blinded my eye, after he overcame me with wine.\nBut come here, Odysseus, so that I may set guest-gifts before you,\nand urge the famous earth-shaker to grant you safe passage;\nfor I am his son, and he claims to be my father.\nHe himself, if he wishes, will heal me, and no one else,\nneither of the blessed gods nor of mortal men.'\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and said:\n'If only I could strip you of life and of soul\nand send you to the house of Hades,\nas surely as not even the earth-shaker will heal your eye.'\nSo I spoke, and then he prayed to lord Poseidon,\nstretching his hands up to the starry heaven:\n'Hear me, Poseidon, earth-holder, dark-haired,\nif truly I am yours, and you claim to be my father,\ngrant that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, may not come home,\nthe son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.\nBut if it is his fate to see his loved ones and to come\nto his well-built house and to his native land,\nmay he come late and in misery, having lost all his comrades,\non a stranger's ship, and may he find troubles in his house.'\nSo he spoke in prayer, and the dark-haired one heard him.\nBut he lifted a far greater stone again\nand hurled it, swinging it, and put his boundless strength behind it,\nand it fell behind the dark-prowed ship,\na little short, and it lacked but a little of reaching the tip of the steering-oar.\nAnd the sea was stirred up as the rock came down;\nand the wave carried it forward and forced it to reach the land.\nBut when we came to the island, where the other\nwell-benched ships were waiting together, and around them the comrades\nsat grieving, always waiting for us,\nwhen we came there we beached the ship in the sand,\nand we ourselves too went out upon the wave-beat shore.\nAnd taking the Cyclops' sheep from the hollow ship\nwe divided them, so that no one should go short of his equal share.\nAnd the well-greaved comrades gave the ram to me alone,\nas the flocks were divided, a gift of special honour; and on the shore\nI cut the thigh-bones and burned them for Zeus the dark-clouded, son of Cronos, who rules over all;\nbut he did not heed the offerings,\nbut he pondered how all my well-benched ships\nmight be destroyed, and my trusty comrades.\nSo then for the whole day until the sun went down\nwe sat feasting on countless flesh and sweet wine;\nbut when the sun had set and darkness came,\nthen we slept upon the wave-beat shore.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen I urged on my comrades and ordered them\nto embark themselves and loose the stern-cables.\nThey quickly boarded and sat at the rowing benches,\nand sitting in order they struck the grey sea with their oars.\nThence we sailed onward, grieving at heart,\nglad to have escaped death, but having lost our dear companions.\n\n### Book 10\n\nWe came to the Aeolian island, where there lived\nAeolus son of Hippotas, dear to the immortal gods,\non a floating island; and around it ran a wall\nof bronze, unbreakable, and a sheer cliff rose up.\nTwelve children had been born to him in his halls,\nsix daughters and six sons in the flower of youth;\nand he gave his daughters to his sons to be their wives.\nThese always beside their dear father and honored mother\nfeast, and beside them lie countless good things,\nand the house reeks of fat, and the courtyard rings\nby day; and at night they sleep beside their reverend wives,\nin blankets and on corded bedsteads.\nAnd we came to their city and their beautiful halls.\nFor a whole month he welcomed me and asked me of each thing,\nof Ilios and the Argive ships and the return of the Achaeans;\nand I told him everything in order, as was right.\nBut when I in turn asked for the road and urged him\nto send me, he refused nothing, but made ready an escort.\nHe gave me a bag, flayed from a nine-year-old ox,\nand in it he tied up the courses of the blustering winds;\nfor the son of Cronos had made him steward of the winds,\nboth to still them and to rouse them, whichever he wished.\nIn the hollow ship he bound it with a shining cord\nof silver, so that not even a little might leak out;\nand he sent me the breath of the West Wind to blow,\nto carry the ships and us; yet he was not destined\nto fulfill it; for we perished by our own folly.\nNine days we sailed alike, nights and days,\nand on the tenth the fields of our homeland showed,\nand already, being near, we saw men tending fires.\nThen sweet sleep came over me, for I was weary,\nfor I always handled the ship's sheet myself, and gave it to no other\nof my comrades, so that we might reach our homeland the sooner;\nbut my comrades spoke words to one another,\nand said that I was bringing gold and silver home,\ngifts from great-hearted Aeolus, son of Hippotas.\nAnd thus one would speak, looking at another beside him:\n\"Well now, how this man is dear and honored among all\nmen, whichever city and land he comes to.\nHe brings many fine treasures out of Troy,\nspoils of war; while we, who have finished the same journey,\ncome home with empty hands.\nAnd now Aeolus gave him these, pleasing him in friendship.\nCome then, let us quickly see what this is,\nhow much gold and silver is inside the bag.\"\nSo they spoke, and the evil counsel of my comrades won;\nthey untied the bag, and all the winds rushed out.\nA squall seized them and bore them at once to the sea,\nweeping, away from our own land. But I\nwoke, and pondered in my blameless heart,\nwhether to fall from the ship and die in the sea,\nor to endure in silence and still be among the living.\nBut I endured and stayed, and wrapping myself up in the ship\nI lay there. And the ships were borne by the evil storm of the wind\nback to the Aeolian island, and my comrades groaned.\nThere we went ashore on the mainland and drew water,\nand at once my comrades took their meal beside the swift ships.\nBut when we had tasted food and drink,\nthen I, taking with me a herald and one comrade,\nwent to the famous halls of Aeolus; and I found him\nfeasting beside his wife and his children.\nAnd coming into the house we sat down on the threshold\nby the doorposts; and they were amazed in their hearts and asked:\n\"How have you come, Odysseus? What evil power has touched you?\nDid we not send you off with all care, so that you might reach\nyour own land and house and whatever is dear to you?\"\nSo they spoke, and I answered, grieving at heart:\n\"My evil comrades ruined me, and in addition sleep,\nthat cruel sleep. But heal it, friends; for the power is in you.\"\nSo I spoke, touching them with soft words,\nand they fell silent; but their father answered with a word:\n\"Get off the island quickly, most shameful of the living;\nfor it is not right for me to care for or to send onward\na man who is hated by the blessed gods.\nBe gone, since you have come here hated by the gods.\"\nSo he spoke and sent me from his halls, groaning heavily.\nThen we sailed onward, grieving at heart.\nThe spirit of the men was worn down by painful rowing,\nour own folly, since no escort appeared anymore.\nSix days we sailed alike, nights and days,\nand on the seventh we came to the steep citadel of Lamos,\nTelepylus of the Laestrygonians, where shepherd calls to shepherd\ndriving his flock in, and the other driving out answers him.\nThere a sleepless man could earn double wages,\none for herding cattle, one for pasturing the white sheep;\nfor the paths of night and day lie close together.\nWhen we came to the famous harbor, which a rock\nsheer on both sides runs all around,\nand jutting headlands, facing one another,\nstand out at the mouth, and the entrance is narrow,\nthere they brought all their well-benched ships inside.\nThe ships were tied within the hollow harbor\nside by side; for no wave ever rose in it,\nneither great nor small, but all around was white calm.\nBut I alone kept my black ship outside,\nthere at the very edge, tying the cables to the rock;\nand I climbed up to a rugged lookout and stood there.\nThere appeared no works of cattle nor of men,\nbut we saw only smoke leaping up from the land.\nThen I sent comrades out to go and learn\nwhat men, eaters of bread, lived in that land,\nchoosing two men, and sending a herald as a third with them.\nThey went ashore along a smooth road, where wagons\ncarried wood down from the high mountains to the town;\nand before the town they met a maiden drawing water,\nthe daughter of the strong Laestrygonian Antiphates.\nShe had come down to the fair-flowing spring,\nArtakia; for from there they carried water to the town.\nThey stood beside her and spoke and asked\nwho was king of these men, and over whom he ruled.\nAnd she at once pointed out her father's high-roofed house.\nWhen they entered the famous halls, the woman\nthey found as tall as a mountain peak, and they shuddered at her.\nShe at once called famous Antiphates from the assembly,\nher husband, who devised a grim destruction for them.\nAt once he seized one of the comrades and prepared him as a meal;\nand the other two sprang away in flight and reached the ships.\nBut he raised a shout through the town; and they, hearing it,\ncame, the powerful Laestrygonians, from one side and another,\ncountless, like not men but Giants.\nThey hurled from the cliffs with man-crushing boulders,\nand at once a terrible din rose over the ships,\nof men perishing and ships being smashed together;\nand spearing them like fish they carried them off as a joyless meal.\nWhile they were killing those men inside the deep-gulfed harbor,\nmeanwhile I, drawing my sharp sword from beside my thigh,\ncut with it the cables of my dark-prowed ship.\nAt once I roused my comrades and commanded them\nto throw themselves on the oars, so that we might escape the evil;\nand they all churned the sea, in fear of destruction.\nGladly my ship escaped to the open sea from the overhanging rocks;\nbut the others perished there all together.\nThen we sailed onward, grieving at heart,\nglad to be out of death, though we had lost our dear comrades.\nWe came to the island of Aeaea, where there lived\nfair-tressed Circe, a dread goddess with a human voice,\nown sister of baneful-minded Aeetes;\nboth were born of Helios who shines on mortals\nand of the mother Perse, whom Ocean fathered.\nThere on the shore we brought the ship in silently,\ninto a harbor where ships may lie, and some god guided us.\nThere we went ashore, and for two days and two nights\nwe lay, eating our hearts with weariness and grief.\nBut when fair-tressed Dawn brought the third day,\nthen I, taking my spear and my sharp sword,\nwent swiftly up from the ship to a place of outlook,\nto see if I might see the works of mortals or hear their speech.\nI climbed to a rugged lookout and stood there,\nand smoke appeared to me from the broad-pathed land,\nin Circe's halls, through the thick coppice and the woods.\nThen I pondered in my mind and in my heart\nwhether to go and learn, since I had seen the blazing smoke.\nAnd as I thought, it seemed better to me thus:\nto go first to the swift ship and the shore of the sea\nand give my comrades their meal, then send them out to learn.\nBut when I was near, coming to the well-benched ship,\nthen one of the gods pitied me in my loneliness,\nwho sent a great high-antlered stag right into my path\nas it came down from its woodland pasture to the river\nto drink; for the sun's heat was heavy on it.\nI struck it as it stepped out, at the spine along the middle of its back\nwith my spear; and the bronze drove clean through;\nand it fell bellowing in the dust, and its life flew away.\nSetting my foot on it, I drew the bronze spear from the wound\nand laid it down there on the ground;\nbut I pulled twigs and withies,\nand wove a rope a fathom long, well-twisted at both ends,\nand bound together the feet of the dread monster,\nand went to the black ship carrying it slung over my back,\nleaning on my spear, since it was in no way possible on my shoulder\nto carry it with one hand; for it was a very great beast.\nI threw it down before the ship and roused my comrades\nwith gentle words, standing beside each man:\n\"Friends, we will not yet go down, though we grieve,\ninto the house of Hades, before our fated day comes;\nbut come, while there is food and drink in the swift ship,\nlet us remember eating, and not waste away with hunger.\"\nSo I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words;\nand slipping off their cloaks beside the shore of the unharvested sea\nthey marveled at the stag; for it was a very great beast.\nBut when they had taken their fill of looking with their eyes,\nthey washed their hands and prepared a glorious feast.\nSo then all day long, until the sun went down,\nwe sat feasting on endless meat and sweet wine;\nand when the sun had set and darkness came on,\nthen we lay down to sleep on the break of the sea.\nAnd when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen I called an assembly and spoke among them all:\n\"Hear my words, comrades, though you suffer evils.\nFriends, we do not know where the darkness is, nor where the dawn,\nnor where the sun that shines on mortals goes beneath the earth,\nnor where it rises; so let us take counsel quickly\nwhether any plan is left. I do not think there is.\nFor I climbed to a rugged lookout and saw\nan island, encircled by the boundless sea;\nit lies low, and in the middle of it\nI saw smoke with my eyes through the thick coppice and the woods.\"\nSo I spoke, and their dear heart was broken\nas they remembered the deeds of the Laestrygonian Antiphates\nand the violence of the great-hearted Cyclops, the man-eater.\nThey wept, shedding a plentiful tear;\nbut no profit came of their weeping.\nSo I divided all my well-greaved comrades in two,\ncounting them, and set a leader over each group;\nI led one group, and godlike Eurylochus the other.\nWe quickly shook lots in a bronze helmet;\nand the lot of great-hearted Eurylochus leaped out.\nHe went, and with him two and twenty comrades,\nweeping; and they left us behind lamenting.\nThey found, in a wooded glen, the well-built house of Circe,\nof polished stone, in a place open to view all round;\nand around it were mountain wolves and lions,\nwhich she herself had bewitched, since she gave them evil drugs.\nThey did not rush at the men, but they\nrose up and fawned on them with their long tails.\nAs when dogs fawn around their master coming from a feast\n(for he always brings them morsels to please them),\nso the strong-clawed wolves and lions fawned around them;\nand they were afraid, when they saw the terrible monsters.\nThey stood in the doorway of the fair-tressed goddess,\nand inside they heard Circe singing in a beautiful voice,\nas she walked to and fro at a great immortal loom, such as the goddesses'\nwork is: fine and lovely and shining.\nAmong them Polites, leader of men, began the speech,\nwho was the dearest and most trusted of my comrades:\n\"Friends, someone inside, walking at a great loom,\nsings beautifully, and the whole floor resounds;\nshe is either a goddess or a woman. But let us call out quickly.\"\nSo he spoke, and they called aloud, calling to her.\nShe came out at once and opened the shining doors\nand called them; and they all followed in their folly,\nbut Eurylochus stayed behind, suspecting a trick.\nShe brought them in and seated them on chairs and benches,\nand set before them cheese and barley and pale honey\nmixed in Pramnian wine; and she stirred into the food\nbaneful drugs, so that they might utterly forget their native land.\nBut when she had given it and they had drunk it, at once then\nshe struck them with her wand and shut them into the pigsties.\nThey had the heads and voices and bristles of pigs\nand their bodies, but their mind stayed firm, as it was before.\nSo they were shut in weeping; and Circe\nthrew them mast and acorns and the fruit of the cornel tree\nto eat, such as pigs that sleep on the ground always eat.\nEurylochus came at once to the swift black ship\nto tell of the comrades and their bitter fate.\nHe could not utter a word, though he longed to,\nhis heart struck with great grief; and his two eyes\nfilled with tears, and his heart brooded on lament.\nBut when we all, amazed, questioned him,\nthen he told the destruction of the other comrades:\n\"We went, as you commanded, glorious Odysseus, through the woods;\nwe found in a wooded glen a well-built house,\nof polished stone, in a place open all round.\nThere someone walking at a great loom sang shrilly,\na goddess or a woman; and they called aloud to her.\nShe came out at once and opened the shining doors\nand called them; and they all followed in their folly,\nbut I stayed behind, suspecting a trick.\nThey vanished all together, and not one of them\nappeared again; and I sat a long while watching.\"\nSo he spoke; and I slung my silver-studded sword\nabout my shoulders, a great bronze one, and my bow as well;\nand I ordered him to lead back the same way.\nBut he caught my knees with both hands and begged me,\nand lamenting he spoke winged words:\n\"Do not take me there against my will, Zeus-fed lord, but leave me here.\nFor I know that you will not come back yourself, nor will you bring\nany other of your comrades. Let us flee quickly with these here;\nfor we might still escape the evil day.\"\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and said:\n\"Eurylochus, you stay here in this place,\neating and drinking beside the hollow black ship;\nbut I will go; a strong necessity is laid upon me.\"\nSo saying, I went up from the ship and the sea.\nBut when, as I went through the sacred glens, I was about\nto reach the great house of Circe of many drugs,\nthere Hermes of the golden wand met me\nas I came toward the house, looking like a young man\nat the first down of his beard, whose youth is most graceful;\nhe took my hand and spoke a word and called me by name:\n\"Where now, poor man, do you go alone over the heights,\nknowing nothing of the place? Your comrades here in Circe's house\nare penned like pigs in tight pens.\nAre you coming here to set them free? I tell you, you will not\nreturn yourself; you will stay where the others are.\nBut come, I will free you from these evils and save you.\nHere, take this good drug and go to the halls of Circe,\nGo on, with this to ward the evil day from your head.\nfor I will tell you all the deadly wiles of Circe.\nShe will mix you a potion, and cast drugs into your food.\nbut not even so will she be able to enchant you; for it will not allow,\nthe good drug that I will give you; and I will tell you every thing.\nWhen Circe drives at you with her long staff,\nthen do you draw the sharp sword from beside your thigh\nand rush upon Circe, as though you longed to slay her.\nShe, cowering before you, will bid you lie with her;\nthen do not thereafter refuse the bed of the goddess,\nso that she may free your comrades and care for you yourself;\nbut bid her swear the great oath of the blessed gods,\nthat she will not plan any other evil harm against you,\nand not make you, stripped bare, weak and unmanned.\nSo spoke the slayer of Argus, and gave me the drug\nas he drew it from the earth, and showed me its nature.\nIts root was black, and its flower was like milk;\nthe gods call it moly; and it is hard for mortal men\nto dig it up, but the gods can do all things.\nThen Hermes departed toward tall Olympus\nacross the wooded island, and I went to the halls of Circe;\nand my heart seethed with many thoughts as I went.\nI stood at the doors of the fair-tressed goddess;\nthere I stood and cried out, and the goddess heard my voice.\nShe came out at once and opened the shining doors\nand called me in; and I followed, grieving at heart.\nShe brought me in and seated me on a chair studded with silver,\na fair one, cunningly wrought; and a footstool was beneath my feet.\nShe made me a potion in a golden cup, that I might drink,\nand into it she cast a drug, thinking evil in her heart.\nBut when she gave it and I drank, she did not enchant me,\nbut struck me with her staff and spoke a word and called me by name:\n\"Go now to the pigsty, and lie down with your other comrades.\"\nSo she spoke, and I, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,\nrushed upon Circe as though I longed to slay her.\nShe gave a great cry and ducked away and clasped my knees,\nand in lamentation she spoke winged words to me:\n\"Who among men are you, and whence? Where are your city and your parents?\nWonder holds me that, having drunk these drugs, you were not enchanted;\nfor no other man has withstood these drugs,\nwhoever drinks them and they first pass the barrier of his teeth.\nBut in your breast is a mind that cannot be charmed.\nSurely you are Odysseus of many turns, whom the golden-wanded\nslayer of Argus ever told me would come to me,\nreturning from Troy with his swift black ship.\nBut come, put your sword back in its sheath, and then let us two\ngo up to my bed, so that, joined together\nin bed and in love, we may trust one another.\"\nSo she spoke, and I answered her and said:\n\"Circe, how can you bid me be gentle toward you,\nyou who have turned my comrades into pigs in your halls,\nand now, keeping me here and plotting guile, you bid me\ngo into your chamber and climb into your bed,\nso that when I am stripped bare you may make me weak and unmanned.\nNor would I ever be willing to climb into your bed,\nunless you would dare, goddess, to swear a great oath to me\nthat you will not plan any other evil harm against me.\"\nSo I spoke, and she swore straightway, as I bade her.\nBut when she had sworn and finished the oath,\nthen I went up into the very beautiful bed of Circe.\nMeanwhile her handmaids busied themselves in the halls,\nfour of them, who do the work throughout her house;\nand they are born from springs and from groves\nand from sacred rivers that flow down to the sea.\nOne of them threw fine coverlets upon the chairs,\npurple above, and beneath she spread linen cloth;\nanother set out silver tables in front of the chairs,\nand upon them she placed golden baskets;\nand a third mixed honey-sweet wine in a bowl,\nsweet wine in a silver bowl, and dealt out golden cups;\nand the fourth carried water and kindled a great fire\nunder a great tripod; and the water grew warm.\nBut when the water boiled in the gleaming copper,\nshe seated me in a bath and poured from the great tripod\nover my head and my shoulders, mixing it to my liking,\nuntil she had taken the heart-destroying weariness from my limbs.\nBut when she had bathed me and anointed me richly with oil,\nshe threw a fair cloak and a tunic about me,\nand brought me in and seated me on a chair studded with silver,\na fair one, cunningly wrought, and a footstool was beneath my feet.\nA handmaid brought a pitcher and poured water for my hands\nfrom a fair golden pitcher, over a silver basin,\nfor me to wash; and beside me she set a polished table.\nAnd the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,\nsetting out many foods, giving freely of what she had.\nShe bade me eat; but my heart was not pleased,\nbut I sat with my mind elsewhere, and my heart foresaw evils.\nAnd when Circe marked that I sat there and did not\nput my hands to the food, and that strong grief held me,\nshe came near and stood beside me and spoke winged words:\n\"Why, Odysseus, do you sit thus like a man without speech,\neating your heart out, and touching neither food nor drink?\nDo you suspect some other trick? You have no need\nto fear; for already I have sworn a mighty oath to you.\"\nSo she spoke, and I answered her and said:\n\"Circe, what man who was decent\ncould endure to taste of food or drink\nbefore he had freed his comrades and seen them with his eyes?\nBut if you truly bid me drink and eat of my own will,\nfree them, so that I may see my trusty comrades with my eyes.\"\nSo I spoke, and Circe had gone through the hall\nwith the staff in her hand, and opened the doors of the pigsty,\nand drove them out, looking like nine-year-old boars.\nThen they stood before her, and she, going among them,\nsmeared each one with another drug.\nAnd from their limbs the hair fell off, which the baneful drug\nhad grown on them before, the drug that the lady Circe gave them;\nand they became men again, younger than they had been before,\nand far fairer and taller to look upon.\nThose men knew me, and each clung to my hands.\nAnd a lovely weeping fell upon them all, and the house\nrang terribly about them; and the goddess herself took pity.\nAnd she came near and stood by me, the shining among goddesses, and said:\n\"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,\ngo now to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.\nFirst of all, drag the ship up onto the land,\nand bring your goods and all your gear close in the caves;\nand then come back yourself and lead your trusty comrades.\"\nSo she spoke, and my proud heart obeyed her,\nand I went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.\nThen I found my trusty comrades at the swift ship\nlamenting piteously, shedding abundant tears.\nAs when calves in the field come about the herd of cows\nthat have come into the yard, when they are glutted with pasture,\nthey all skip together to meet them; and the pens no longer\nhold them, but with shrill lowing they run about\ntheir mothers; so those men, when they saw me with their eyes,\npoured about me in tears; and their hearts thought\nthat it was as if they had reached their fatherland and the very city\nof rugged Ithaca, where they were reared and born.\nAnd in lamentation they spoke winged words to me:\n\"At your return, Zeus-nourished one, we rejoiced\nas if we had come to our fatherland, the land of Ithaca;\nbut come, tell us of the destruction of the other comrades.\"\nSo they spoke, and I addressed them with gentle words:\n\"Let us first of all drag the ship up onto the land,\nand bring our goods and all our gear close in the caves;\nand do you all bestir yourselves to follow along with me,\nso that you may see your comrades in the sacred halls of Circe\ndrinking and eating; for they have abundance.\"\nSo I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words.\nBut Eurylochus alone held back all the comrades;\nand he spoke and addressed them with winged words:\n\"Ah, wretched men, where are we going? Why do you long for these evils,\nto go down into the hall of Circe, who will make you all\neither pigs or wolves or lions,\nso that we must guard her great house, and by force,\njust as the Cyclops did, when our comrades\ncame into his farmyard, and bold Odysseus followed with them;\nfor through his recklessness those men too perished.\"\nSo he spoke, and I pondered in my heart\nwhether, drawing the long-edged sword from beside my thick thigh,\nto strike off his head and bring it to the ground,\nthough he was my kinsman by marriage, very near; but my comrades\nheld me back from another side with gentle words, one and another:\n\"Zeus-born one, let this man be, if you bid it,\nto stay here beside the ship and guard the ship;\nbut do you lead us to the sacred halls of Circe.\"\nSo they spoke, and we went up from the ship and the sea.\nNor was Eurylochus left behind beside the hollow ship,\nbut he followed; for he feared my terrible rebuke.\nMeanwhile Circe had kindly bathed the other comrades in her halls\nand anointed them richly with oil,\nand thrown thick cloaks and tunics about them;\nand we found them all feasting well in the halls.\nAnd when they saw one another face to face and knew each other,\nthey wept and lamented, and the house groaned about them.\nAnd she came near and stood by me, the shining among goddesses, and said:\n\"Raise no longer now this abundant weeping; I myself know\nall the pains you suffered on the fish-filled sea,\nand all the harms that lawless men did you on land.\nBut come, eat your food and drink your wine,\nuntil you take back the spirit in your breasts,\nsuch as when you first left your fatherland,\nrugged Ithaca. But now you are worn out and spiritless,\nalways remembering your hard wandering, and never\nis your heart in gladness, since you have suffered very much.\"\nSo she spoke, and our proud hearts obeyed her.\nThere we sat all our days for a full year,\nfeasting on countless meats and sweet wine;\nbut when the year had passed and the seasons turned\nas the months waned, and the long days were fulfilled,\nthen my trusty comrades called me out and said:\n\"Strange man, remember now your native land,\nif it is fated that you be saved and reach\nyour high-roofed house and your own native land.\"\nSo they spoke, and my proud heart obeyed.\nSo then the whole day long until the setting sun\nwe sat, feasting on countless meats and sweet wine;\nand when the sun had set and darkness came on,\nthey lay down to sleep through the shadowy halls.\nBut I, having gone up into the very beautiful bed of Circe,\nclasped her knees in supplication, and the goddess heard my voice;\nand I spoke and addressed her with winged words:\n\"Circe, fulfill for me the promise that you made,\nto send me home; for my heart is eager already,\nand so are the hearts of the others, who wear away my dear heart\nlamenting about me, whenever you are away.\"\nSo I spoke, and she answered straightway, the shining among goddesses:\n\"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,\nno longer now stay in my house against your will.\nBut first you must complete another journey and reach\nthe halls of Hades and of dread Persephone,\nto consult the spirit of the Theban Teiresias,\nthe blind seer, whose mind is still steadfast;\nto him alone, even among the dead, Persephone gave understanding,\nthat he alone be wise; the others flit about as shadows.\"\nSo she spoke, and my dear heart broke within me;\nI sat on the bed and wept, and my heart\nno longer wished to live and see the light of the sun.\nBut when I had had my fill of weeping and rolling about,\nthen I answered her and spoke:\n\"Circe, who then will guide me on this journey?\nFor no one has yet reached the house of Hades in a black ship.\"\nSo I spoke, and she answered straightway, the shining among goddesses:\n\"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,\nlet no longing for a guide trouble you beside the ship;\nbut set up your mast, and spread your white sails,\nand sit still; and the breath of the North Wind will carry her.\nBut when you have crossed the Ocean with your ship,\nthere is a low shore and the groves of Persephone,\nand tall black poplars and willows that shed their fruit;\nbeach your ship there on the deep-eddying Ocean,\nand go yourself into the dank house of Hades.\nThere the Pyriphlegethon and Cocytus flow into Acheron,\nCocytus, which is a branch of the water of Styx,\nand there is a rock and the meeting-place of the two roaring rivers.\nThere then, hero, drawing near, as I bid you,\ndig a pit, a cubit's length this way and that,\nand pour a libation about it to all the dead,\nfirst with honey-mixed milk, then with sweet wine,\nand the third again with water; and sprinkle white barley upon it.\nAnd pray many times to the strengthless heads of the dead,\npromising that when you come to Ithaca you will sacrifice a barren cow, the best one,\nin your halls and fill a pyre with good things,\nand to Teiresias alone, apart, sacrifice a sheep,\nall black, which stands out among your flocks.\nBut when with prayers you have besought the glorious tribes of the dead,\nthen sacrifice a ram and a black ewe,\nturning them toward Erebus, and turn away yourself,\nlooking toward the streams of the river; and there many\nsouls of the dead, of those who have died, will come.\nThen rouse your comrades and command them\nto take the sheep that lie there, slain by the pitiless bronze,\nflay them and burn them, and pray to the gods,\nto mighty Hades and to dread Persephone;\nand do you yourself, drawing the sharp sword from beside your thigh,\nsit still, and do not let the strengthless heads of the dead\ncome near the blood, before you have heard Teiresias.\nThere the seer will come to you straightway, leader of the people,\nwho will tell you the way and the measures of the journey,\nand your return, how you will come over the fish-filled sea.\"\nSo she spoke, and straightway came golden-throned Dawn.\nShe clothed me about in a cloak and a tunic;\nand the nymph herself put on a great silver-shining robe,\nfine and lovely, and about her waist she cast a belt\nbeautiful and golden, and on her head she set a veil.\nBut I went through the halls and roused my comrades\nwith gentle words, standing beside each man:\n\"No longer now, sleeping, enjoy sweet sleep,\nbut let us go; for the lady Circe has told me all.\"\nSo I spoke, and their proud hearts obeyed.\nYet not even from there did I lead my comrades unharmed.\nThere was a certain Elpenor, the youngest, not very\nstrong in war nor firm in his own wits;\nwho, apart from his comrades in the sacred halls of Circe,\nlonging for the cool, lay down heavy with wine.\nAnd hearing the noise and tramp of the moving comrades,\nhe sprang up suddenly and forgot in his wits\nto go back down by the long ladder,\nbut fell headlong from the roof; and his neck\nwas broken from his backbone, and his soul went down to Hades.\nAnd as they came, I spoke a word among them:\n\"You think, no doubt, that you are going home to your dear native land;\nbut Circe has marked out another journey for us,\nto the halls of Hades and of dread Persephone,\nto consult the spirit of the Theban Teiresias.\"\nSo I spoke, and their dear hearts broke within them,\nand they sat down right there and wailed and tore their hair;\nbut no profit came of their lamenting.\nBut when we were going to the swift ship and the shore of the sea,\nsorrowing, shedding abundant tears,\nmeanwhile Circe had gone and tethered beside the black ship\na ram and a black ewe,\npassing by lightly; and who could see a god with his eyes\ngoing here or there, if the god is unwilling?\n\n### Book 11\n\nBut when we had come down to the ship and to the sea,\nfirst of all we dragged the ship into the bright salt water,\nand set the mast inside it and the sails in the black ship,\nand taking the sheep we put them aboard, and we ourselves\nclimbed aboard too, grieving, shedding a thick tear.\nAnd behind us, for the ship with the dark-blue prow,\nshe sent a following wind that filled the sails, a good companion,\nCirce of the lovely braids, a dread goddess with a human voice.\nAnd we, having made fast each rope throughout the ship,\nsat down; and the wind and the helmsman steered her.\nAll day long her sails were stretched as she traveled the sea,\nand the sun went down and all the pathways grew shadowy.\nAnd she came to the limits of deep-flowing Ocean.\nThere is the land and the city of the Cimmerian men,\nwrapped in mist and cloud; never upon them\ndoes the shining sun look with his rays,\nneither when he climbs up into the starry heaven,\nnor when he turns back again toward the earth from heaven,\nbut deadly night is stretched out over those wretched mortals.\nComing there we beached the ship, and out we\ntook the sheep; and we ourselves again beside the stream of Ocean\nwent on, until we came to the place that Circe had shown.\nThere Perimedes and Eurylochus held\nthe victims; and I, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,\ndug a pit of a cubit's length this way and that,\nand around it I poured a drink-offering to all the dead,\nfirst with honeyed milk, then afterwards with sweet wine,\nand the third time with water; and I sprinkled white barley over it.\nAnd I besought many times the strengthless heads of the dead,\npromising that when I came to Ithaca I would offer a barren cow, the best of all,\nand sacrifice in my halls, and fill a pyre with good things,\nand to Tiresias, apart from the rest, to sacrifice a sheep, to him alone,\nall-black, which stands out among my flocks.\nBut when with vows and prayers I had besought the tribes of the dead,\ntaking the sheep I cut their throats\nover the pit, and the dark-clouded blood flowed; and they gathered,\nthe souls of the dead who had died, from out of Erebus.\nBrides and unwed youths and much-enduring old men,\nand tender maidens with hearts of new-made grief,\nand many wounded by bronze-tipped spears,\nmen slain in war, wearing blood-stained armor;\nthese thronged in crowds around the pit, one from one side, one from another,\nwith a wondrous cry; and pale fear seized me.\nThen I urged on my comrades and commanded them\nto flay the sheep that lay there slain by the pitiless bronze,\nand to burn them, and to pray to the gods,\nto mighty Hades and to dread Persephone;\nand I myself, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,\nsat still, and I did not allow the strengthless heads of the dead\nto come nearer to the blood, before I had asked of Tiresias.\nFirst came the soul of my comrade Elpenor;\nfor he had not yet been buried beneath the wide-pathed earth;\nfor we had left his body in the hall of Circe,\nunwept and unburied, since another toil pressed on us.\nI wept when I saw him and I pitied him in my heart,\nand speaking to him I addressed him with winged words:\nElpenor, how did you come down under the misty darkness?\nDid you come on foot faster than I did with the black ship?\nSo I spoke, and he groaned and answered me with a word:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,\nthe evil fate of a god undid me, and the measureless wine.\nFor lying down in the hall of Circe I did not think\nto go back down by the long ladder,\nbut I fell straight down from the roof; and my neck\nwas broken from the spine, and my soul went down to the house of Hades.\nNow I beg you, by those behind, who are not with us,\nby your wife and your father, who raised you when you were small,\nand by Telemachus, whom you left alone in the halls;\nfor I know that going from here, out of the house of Hades,\nyou will bring your well-built ship to the island of Aeaea;\nthere, then, my lord, I bid you remember me.\nDo not leave me unwept and unburied when you go away,\nhaving departed, lest I become some cause of the wrath of the gods,\nbut burn me with my armor, all that I have,\nand heap a mound for me on the shore of the gray sea,\nof an unhappy man, to be known to men who are yet to be.\nFulfill this for me, and fix an oar upon the tomb,\nthe oar with which I rowed while alive among my comrades.\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:\nThis all, unhappy man, I will fulfill and perform.\nSo we two sat exchanging hateful words,\nI on one side holding the sword over the blood,\nand on the other side the phantom of my comrade spoke many things.\nThen came the soul of my mother, who had died,\nAnticleia, daughter of great-hearted Autolycus,\nwhom I left alive when I set out for holy Ilium.\nI wept when I saw her and I pitied her in my heart,\nbut not even so did I let her, though I grieved heavily,\ncome nearer to the blood, before I had learned of Tiresias.\nThen came the soul of the Theban Tiresias,\nholding a golden staff, and he knew me and spoke to me:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,\nwhy now, unhappy man, having left the light of the sun,\nhave you come, to see the dead and this joyless place?\nBut draw back from the pit, and hold off your sharp sword,\nso that I may drink the blood and tell you the truth.\nSo he spoke, and I drew back and thrust the silver-studded sword\ninto its sheath. And when he had drunk the dark blood,\nthen indeed the blameless prophet addressed me with words:\nYou seek your honey-sweet homecoming, glorious Odysseus;\na god will make it hard for you; for I do not think\nyou will escape the Earthshaker, who has set wrath in his heart\nagainst you, angry because you blinded his dear son.\nBut even so you might still come home, though suffering evils,\nif you are willing to restrain your own spirit and your comrades',\nwhen first you bring your well-built ship\nto the island Thrinacia, fleeing over the violet-dark sea,\nand find grazing cattle and sturdy flocks\nof Helios, who looks upon all things and hears all things.\nIf you leave them unharmed and take thought for your homecoming,\nyou may still come to Ithaca, though suffering evils;\nbut if you harm them, then I foretell destruction\nfor your ship and your comrades. And if you yourself escape,\nyou will come home late and badly, having lost all your comrades,\nin a stranger's ship; and you will find woes in your house,\noverweening men, who devour your livelihood,\nwooing your godlike wife and offering bridal gifts.\nBut you will surely take vengeance on their violence when you come.\nAnd when you have killed the suitors in your halls,\neither by guile or openly with the sharp bronze,\nthen go, taking up a well-fitted oar,\nuntil you come to men who do not know the sea,\nmen who do not eat food mixed with salt,\nand who do not know ships with crimson cheeks,\nnor well-fitted oars, which are wings to ships.\nAnd I will tell you a sign, very clear indeed, and it will not escape you:\nwhen another traveler, meeting you,\nsays that you have a winnowing-fan on your shining shoulder,\nthen plant in the ground your well-fitted oar,\nand make fair sacrifices to lord Poseidon,\na ram, a bull, and a boar that mounts the sows,\nand go back home and perform holy hecatombs\nto the immortal gods who hold the broad heaven,\nall of them in due order. And death will come to you from the sea,\na very gentle death, such as will slay you\nworn by sleek old age; and around you the people\nwill be blessed. And these things I tell you truly.\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:\nTiresias, the gods themselves have surely spun all this.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it exactly:\nI see here the soul of my mother, who has died;\nshe sits in silence near the blood, and she has not dared\nto look at her own son face to face nor to speak to him.\nTell me, lord, how may she know me for what I am?\nSo I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:\nEasy is the word I will speak, and I will put it in your mind.\nWhichever one of the dead you allow\nto come nearer to the blood, that one will tell you the truth;\nbut whomever you begrudge it to, that one will go back again.\nSo speaking, the soul of lord Tiresias went within the house of Hades,\nwhen he had spoken his oracles;\nbut I stayed there steadfastly, until my mother\ncame and drank the dark-clouded blood; and straightway she knew me,\nand lamenting she addressed me with winged words:\nMy child, how have you come down under the misty darkness\nwhile alive? And it is hard for the living to look upon these things.\nFor in between lie great rivers and dread streams,\nOcean first of all, which no one can cross\non foot, unless he has a well-built ship.\nHave you come here wandering from Troy\nwith ship and comrades for a long time? Have you not yet come\nto Ithaca, nor seen your wife in your halls?\nSo she spoke, and I answered her and addressed her:\nMy mother, a need brought me down to the house of Hades,\nto consult the soul of the Theban Tiresias;\nfor I have not yet come near Achaea, nor have I yet\nset foot on my own land, but I wander always in misery,\never since I first followed shining Agamemnon\nto Ilium of good horses, to fight with the Trojans.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it exactly:\nwhat fate of long-drawn death subdued you?\nWas it a lingering sickness, or did Artemis the arrow-pourer\ncome upon you with her gentle arrows and slay you?\nAnd tell me of my father and of the son whom I left behind,\nwhether my honor still lies with them, or some other man\nalready holds it, and they say that I will not come home.\nAnd tell me the counsel and the mind of my wooed wife,\nwhether she stays beside my son and keeps everything steadfast,\nor has already married whichever of the Achaeans is best.\nSo I spoke, and the revered mother answered straightway:\nIndeed that woman stays with an enduring heart\nin your halls; and her wretched nights and days\nalways waste away as she sheds tears.\nNo one yet holds your fair honor, but at his ease\nTelemachus farms the lands and feasts at equal banquets,\nsuch as it is fitting for a man who gives judgments to enjoy;\nfor all men invite him. But your father stays there\nin the country, and does not come down to the city. Nor does he have\nbed and blankets and shining rugs,\nbut in winter he sleeps where the servants sleep in the house,\nin the dust close to the fire, and he wears evil clothing on his body;\nbut when summer comes and the luxuriant harvest-time,\neverywhere along the slope of his vineyard soil\nlow beds of fallen leaves are strewn for him.\nThere he lies grieving, and he greatly increases the sorrow in his heart,\nlonging for your return, and hard old age comes upon him.\nSo I too perished and met my fate;\nneither did the keen-sighted arrow-pourer come upon me in my halls\nwith her gentle arrows and slay me,\nnor did any sickness come upon me, which most of all\ntakes the spirit from the limbs with hateful wasting;\nbut my longing for you and your counsels, glorious Odysseus,\nand your gentle kindness took away my honey-sweet spirit.\nSo she spoke, and I wished in my heart, pondering,\nto take the soul of my mother, who had died, in my arms.\nThree times I sprang toward her, and my heart urged me to hold her,\nand three times she flew from my hands like a shadow or a dream.\nAnd sharp grief grew in my heart the more,\nand speaking to her I addressed her with winged words:\nMy mother, why will you not wait for me, who long to hold you,\nso that both of us, throwing our arms around each other,\nmay take our joy in chilling lamentation in the house of Hades?\nOr is this phantom sent by the glorious Persephone,\nso that I may groan and lament the more?\nSo I spoke, and the revered mother answered straightway:\nAh me, my child, most wretched of all mortals,\nPersephone, the daughter of Zeus, does not deceive you,\nbut this is the custom of mortals, whenever one dies;\nfor no longer do the sinews hold flesh and bones together,\nbut the strong might of blazing fire subdues them,\nas soon as the spirit first leaves the white bones,\nand the soul, like a dream, flies off and flutters away.\nBut long for the light of day as quickly as you can; and know all this,\nso that you may tell it hereafter to your wife.\nSo we two exchanged words with one another, and the women came,\nfor the glorious Persephone urged them on,\nall who were wives and daughters of the chieftains.\nAnd they gathered in a crowd around the dark blood,\nand I considered how I might question each one.\nAnd this counsel seemed best to my heart:\ndrawing my long-edged sword from beside my thick thigh,\nI did not allow them all together to drink the dark blood.\nAnd they came forward in order, and each one\ndeclared her lineage; and I questioned them all.\nThere first I saw Tyro of the goodly father,\nwho said she was the offspring of blameless Salmoneus,\nand said she was the wife of Cretheus, son of Aeolus;\nshe loved the divine river Enipeus,\nwhich flows over the earth the fairest of all rivers,\nand she used to wander along the fair streams of Enipeus.\nAnd the Earthholder, the Earthshaker, making himself like him,\nlay beside her at the mouth of the whirling river;\nand a purple wave stood around them, like a mountain,\narching over, and it hid the god and the mortal woman.\nHe loosed her maiden girdle and poured sleep upon her.\nAnd when the god had accomplished the works of love,\nhe clasped her hand and spoke a word and called her by name:\nRejoice, woman, in this loving; and when the year comes round,\nyou will bear glorious children, since the beds of the immortals\nare not unfruitful; but you must care for them and rear them.\nBut now go to your house, and keep silent and do not name me;\nfor I am Poseidon, the Earthshaker.\nSo saying, he plunged beneath the surging sea.\nAnd she, conceiving, bore Pelias and Neleus,\nwho became mighty servants of great Zeus,\nboth of them; Pelias dwelt in spacious Iolcus,\nrich in flocks, and the other in sandy Pylos.\nAnd the others she bore to Cretheus, a queen among women,\nAeson and Pheres and Amythaon, who delighted in chariots.\nAnd after her I saw Antiope, daughter of Asopus,\nwho claimed that she had lain in the arms of Zeus,\nand she bore two sons, Amphion and Zethus,\nwho first founded the seat of seven-gated Thebes,\nand walled it, since they could not\ndwell in spacious Thebes unwalled, strong though they were.\nAnd after her I saw Alcmena, wife of Amphitryon,\nwho bore Heracles, bold-spirited, lion-hearted,\nhaving lain in the arms of great Zeus;\nand Megara, daughter of overbearing Creon,\nwhom the son of Amphitryon held, his might forever unwearied.\nAnd I saw the mother of Oedipus, the fair Epicaste,\nwho did a great deed in the ignorance of her mind,\nmarrying her own son; and he, having slain his father,\nmarried her; and straightway the gods made it known among men.\nBut he remained in much-loved Thebes, ruling the Cadmeians\nand suffering griefs, through the deadly counsels of the gods;\nand she went to the house of strong, gate-barring Hades,\nhaving tied a high noose from the lofty beam,\nmastered by her grief; and she left griefs behind for him,\nvery many, such as a mother's Furies bring to pass.\nAnd I saw beautiful Chloris, whom once Neleus\nmarried for her beauty, since he gave countless bridal gifts,\nthe youngest daughter of Amphion, son of Iasus,\nwho once ruled by force in Minyan Orchomenus;\nand she was queen of Pylos, and bore him glorious children,\nNestor and Chromius and proud Periclymenus.\nAnd besides these she bore sturdy Pero, a wonder to mortals,\nwhom all the neighboring men wooed; but Neleus\nwould not give her to any man unless he drove off the spiral-horned, broad-browed cattle\nfrom Phylace, the grievous cattle of mighty Iphicles;\nand the blameless prophet alone promised to drive them out;\nbut the hard fate of the god bound him fast,\nand painful bonds, and the rustic herdsmen.\nBut when the months and the days were being fulfilled\nas the year rolled round again and the seasons came on,\nthen the might of Iphicles loosed him,\nwhen he had told all the oracles; and the will of Zeus was accomplished.\nAnd I saw Leda, the wife of Tyndareus,\nwho bore to Tyndareus two stout-hearted sons,\nCastor the horse-tamer and Polydeuces good at boxing,\nwhom the life-giving earth holds both of them alive;\nthey, even beneath the earth, having honor from Zeus,\nlive on alternate days, and again at other times\nare dead; and they have obtained honor equal to the gods.\nAnd after her I saw Iphimedeia, wife of Aloeus,\nwho said that she had lain with Poseidon,\nand she bore two sons, but they were short-lived,\ngodlike Otus and far-famed Ephialtes,\nwhom the grain-giving earth reared as the tallest\nand by far the fairest, after famed Orion;\nfor at nine years old they were nine cubits\nin breadth, and in height they grew to nine fathoms.\nThese two even threatened the immortal gods on Olympus\nto set up the din of much-roaring war;\nthey meant to set Ossa upon Olympus, and upon Ossa\nPelion with its shaking leaves, so that heaven might be climbed.\nAnd they would have accomplished it, if they had reached the measure of youth;\nbut the son of Zeus, whom fair-haired Leto bore,\nslew them both, before beneath their temples the down\nbloomed and covered their cheeks with a fair-flowering beard.\nAnd I saw Phaedra and Procris and the fair Ariadne,\nthe daughter of baleful-minded Minos, whom once Theseus\nwas leading from Crete to the hill of holy Athens,\nbut he did not enjoy her; for Artemis killed her first,\non sea-girt Dia, on the testimony of Dionysus.\nAnd I saw Maera and Clymene and hateful Eriphyle,\nwho accepted precious gold for the life of her own husband.\nBut I could not tell of all of them nor name them,\nall the wives and the daughters of heroes that I saw;\nfor sooner would the immortal night fail. But it is also time\nto sleep, either going to the swift ship to my comrades,\nor here; and the sending home shall be the care of the gods and of you.\nSo he spoke, and they all became silent in stillness,\nand they were held by enchantment throughout the shadowy halls.\nAnd among them white-armed Arete began the words:\nPhaeacians, how does this man seem to you to be,\nin form and in stature and in the good sense within him?\nHe is my guest, and each of you has a share in the honor;\nso do not send him off in haste, and do not\ncut short the gifts for one who is so in need; for many\npossessions lie in your halls by the will of the gods.\nAnd among them spoke the old hero Echeneus,\nwho was the eldest of the Phaeacian men:\nFriends, the thoughtful queen does not speak\noff the mark nor against what we believe; but obey her.\nBut on Alcinoos here depends both deed and word.\nAnd Alcinoos answered him again and spoke:\nThis word shall indeed be so, if I at least\nrule as king, while alive, over the oar-loving Phaeacians;\nbut let the stranger endure, though he longs greatly for his homecoming,\nto wait until tomorrow all the same, until I have made\nall the gift-giving complete; and the sending home shall be the care\nof all men, but most of all of me; for the power in the district is mine.\nAnd many-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nAlcinoos, mighty lord, most renowned of all peoples,\neven if you should bid me stay here for a year,\nand urge on my sending home and give me glorious gifts,\nI would wish for that, and it would be far more profitable,\nto come to my dear fatherland with a fuller hand;\nand I would be more respected and dearer among all men,\nall who might see me returned to Ithaca.\nAnd Alcinoos answered him again and spoke:\nOdysseus, we do not look on you and suppose\nthat you are a deceiver and a cheat, such as many\nthe black earth nourishes, scattered far and wide among men,\nwho fashion lies out of things no one could see;\nbut upon you there is a beauty of words, and within you a good mind.\nAnd you have recounted your tale skillfully, as a bard would,\nthe grievous sorrows of all the Argives and of yourself.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it exactly,\nwhether you saw any of your godlike comrades, who with you\nfollowed to Ilium and there met their fate.\nAnd this night is very long, immeasurably long; and it is not yet time\nto sleep in the hall; but do you tell me the wondrous deeds.\nAnd I could hold out until the bright dawn, if you\nwould consent to tell me your sorrows in the hall.\nAnd many-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nAlcinoos, mighty lord, most renowned of all peoples,\nthere is a time for many words, and a time also for sleep;\nbut if you are still eager to listen, I would not\nbegrudge you this, but would tell other things more pitiable still,\nthe sorrows of my comrades, who perished afterwards,\nwho escaped from the groaning battle-cry of the Trojans\nand perished on the way home through the will of a wicked woman.\nBut when the holy Persephone had scattered the souls\nof the tender women this way and that,\nthen came the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,\ngrieving; and around him the others gathered, all who with him\nhad died in the house of Aegisthus and met their fate.\nAnd he knew me at once, when he had drunk the dark blood;\nand he wept shrilly, shedding a thick tear,\nstretching out his hands toward me, eager to touch me;\nbut there was no longer any steadfast strength in him, nor any vigor\nsuch as there had been before in his supple limbs.\nI wept when I saw him and I pitied him in my heart,\nand speaking to him I addressed him with winged words:\nMost glorious son of Atreus, lord of men Agamemnon,\nwhat fate of long-drawn death subdued you?\nDid Poseidon subdue you among your ships,\nrousing a hateful blast of grievous winds?\nOr did hostile men do you harm on the mainland,\nas you were cutting off cattle and fair flocks of sheep,\nor fighting for a city and for its women?\nSo I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,\nneither did Poseidon subdue me among the ships,\nrousing a hateful blast of grievous winds,\nnor did hostile men do me harm on the mainland,\nbut Aegisthus, contriving death and doom for me,\nkilled me with the help of my accursed wife, calling me to his house,\nfeasting me, as one kills an ox at its manger.\nSo I died a most pitiable death; and around me the other comrades\nwere slaughtered unceasingly, like white-tusked boars,\nin the hall of a rich man of great power,\nat a wedding or a gathering or a lavish banquet.\nYou have already come upon the slaughter of many men,\nkilled singly and in strong battle;\nbut you would have grieved most of all in your heart at that sight,\nhow around the mixing-bowl and the loaded tables\nwe lay in the hall, and the whole floor steamed with blood.\nAnd most piteous of all I heard the voice of the daughter of Priam,\nCassandra, whom crafty Clytemnestra killed\nover me, while I, raising my hands toward the ground,\nstruck them as I was dying around the sword; and the shameless woman\nturned away, and she did not dare, though I was going to Hades,\nto close my eyes with her hands or to press my mouth shut with hers.\nSo there is nothing more dreadful and more shameless than a woman,\none who lays such deeds in her mind;\nsuch a shameful deed indeed that woman contrived,\nplanning murder for her wedded husband. And I thought\nthat I would come home welcome to my children and my servants;\nbut she, knowing exceeding wickedness,\npoured forth shame both on herself and on women to come\nhereafter, even on her who does what is good.\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:\nAlas, indeed Zeus the far-thundering has terribly hated\nthe race of Atreus, through the counsels of women,\nfrom the beginning; for Helen's sake many of us perished,\nand for you Clytemnestra contrived a snare while you were far away.\nSo I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:\nTherefore never now be gentle with a woman, even so;\ndo not reveal to her every word that you know well,\nbut tell one part, and let the other be hidden.\nBut it will not be from a woman that murder comes to you, Odysseus;\nfor the daughter of Icarius, the thoughtful Penelope,\nis very prudent and knows good counsels in her mind.\nWe indeed left her a young bride\nwhen we went to the war; and she had a child at her breast,\nan infant, who now, I suppose, sits among the numbered men,\nblessed; for his dear father will see him when he comes,\nand he will embrace his father, as is right.\nBut my wife did not allow me to be filled with the sight of my son,\neven with my eyes; before that she killed me too.\nAnd I will tell you another thing, and do you put it in your mind:\nsecretly, and not openly, bring your ship\nto your dear fatherland; for there is no longer trust in women.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it exactly,\nwhether you hear anywhere that my son is still alive,\neither at Orchomenus or at sandy Pylos,\nor somewhere by Menelaus in broad Sparta;\nfor godlike Orestes has not yet died on the earth.\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:\nSon of Atreus, why do you ask me this? I do not know at all\nwhether he is alive or dead; and it is bad to babble empty words.\nSo we two stood exchanging hateful words,\ngrieving, shedding a thick tear;\nand there came the soul of Achilles, son of Peleus,\nand that of Patroclus and of blameless Antilochus\nand of Ajax, who was the best in form and in build\nof the other Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus.\nAnd the soul of the swift-footed descendant of Aeacus knew me,\nand lamenting he addressed me with winged words:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,\nreckless man, what greater deed will you yet devise in your mind?\nHow did you dare to come down to the house of Hades, where the dead\ndwell without sense, the phantoms of mortals who have died?\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:\nAchilles, son of Peleus, by far the greatest of the Achaeans,\nI came for the need of Tiresias, in the hope that he might tell\nsome counsel, how I might come to rugged Ithaca;\nfor I have not yet come near Achaea, nor have I yet\nset foot on my own land, but I always have troubles. But than you, Achilles,\nno man was ever more blessed before, nor shall be hereafter.\nFor before, while you were alive, we honored you like the gods,\nwe Argives, and now again you hold great power among the dead\nwhile you are here; so do not grieve at all at having died, Achilles.\nSo I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:\nDo not comfort me about death, glorious Odysseus.\nI would rather be a hired laborer, serving another man,\na man with no portion of land, who has but little livelihood,\nthan to be king over all the dead who have perished.\nBut come, tell me news of my glorious son,\nwhether he followed to the war to be a champion, or not.\nAnd tell me of blameless Peleus, if you have heard anything,\nwhether he still holds honor among the many Myrmidons,\nor do they dishonor him throughout Hellas and Phthia,\nbecause old age holds his hands and his feet.\nFor I am no defender under the beams of the sun,\nsuch as I once was in broad Troy,\nwhen I killed the best of the host, defending the Argives;\nif I could come as such a one, even for a moment, to my father's house,\nthen I would make hateful my might and my resistless hands\nto those who do him violence and drive him from his honor.\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:\nIndeed I have heard nothing of blameless Peleus,\nbut of your dear son Neoptolemus I will tell you\nthe whole truth, as you bid me;\nfor I myself brought him from Scyrus in a hollow, well-balanced ship,\nto the well-greaved Achaeans.\nIndeed, when we were considering counsels around the city of Troy,\nhe was always the first to speak and he did not miss the mark in words;\nonly godlike Nestor and I surpassed him.\nBut when we fought with bronze on the Trojan plain,\nhe never stayed back in the throng of men nor in the crowd,\nbut he ran far ahead, yielding to no one in his might,\nand he killed many men in the dread battle-strife.\nBut I could not tell of all of them nor name them,\nhow many of the host he killed defending the Argives,\nbut only how he slew with the bronze the son of Telephus,\nthe hero Eurypylus, and around him many comrades\nof the Cetians were killed for the sake of women's gifts.\nHim I saw as the fairest, after godlike Memnon.\nAnd when we went down into the horse that Epeius built,\nthe best of the Argives, and everything was assigned to me,\nboth to open the close ambush and to shut it,\nthere the other leaders and counselors of the Danaans\nwere wiping away tears and the limbs of each man trembled;\nbut him I never saw at all with my eyes\neither growing pale in his fair skin or wiping\na tear from his cheeks; but he begged greatly\nto be let out of the horse, and he kept feeling for the hilt of his sword\nand his bronze-heavy spear, and he planned evil for the Trojans.\nBut when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,\nhe went aboard the ship holding his share and his fine prize\nunharmed, neither struck by the sharp bronze\nnor wounded in close combat, such wounds as often\nhappen in war; for Ares rages confusedly.\nSo I spoke, and the soul of the swift-footed descendant of Aeacus\nwent with long strides across the field of asphodel,\nrejoicing that I had told him his son was renowned.\nAnd the other souls of the dead who had died\nstood grieving, and each one asked about her own sorrows.\nBut the soul of Ajax, son of Telamon, alone\nstood apart, angry because of the victory\nthat I had won over him in the judgment beside the ships\nover the armor of Achilles; and his revered mother had set it out.\nAnd the sons of the Trojans judged, and Pallas Athena.\nHow I wish I had not won in such a contest!\nFor such a head as his did the earth cover because of that armor,\nAjax, who in form and in deeds was fashioned above\nthe other Danaans, after the blameless son of Peleus.\nAnd I addressed him with gentle words:\nAjax, son of blameless Telamon, were you not going\neven in death to forget your anger against me because of the armor,\nthat accursed armor? The gods made it a woe for the Argives,\nfor such a tower as you were, you perished for them; and we Achaeans\ngrieve for you forever as much as for the head of Achilles, son of Peleus;\nand no one else\nis to blame, but Zeus terribly hated the host of spear-bearing Danaans,\nand laid a fate upon you.\nBut come here, lord, so that you may hear our word and speech;\nand subdue your might and your proud spirit.\nSo I spoke, and he answered me nothing, but went off after the other\nsouls of the dead who had died, into Erebus.\nThere, even though angry, he would have spoken to me, or I to him;\nbut my heart in my dear breast wished\nto see the souls of the other dead.\nThere indeed I saw Minos, the glorious son of Zeus,\nholding a golden staff, giving judgment to the dead,\nseated, and they asked him, their lord, for judgments,\nsitting and standing throughout the wide-gated house of Hades.\nAnd after him I noticed huge Orion\ndriving the wild beasts together across the field of asphodel,\nthe very beasts he had killed in the lonely mountains,\nholding in his hands a club of solid bronze, forever unbroken.\nAnd I saw Tityus, son of the far-famed Earth,\nlying on the ground; and he lay over nine acres of land,\nand two vultures, sitting on either side of him, tore at his liver,\ndipping into the fat, and he did not fend them off with his hands;\nfor he had dragged off Leto, the glorious wife of Zeus,\nas she was going to Pytho through beautiful Panopeus.\nAnd indeed I saw Tantalus, having great agony,\nstanding in a pool; and the water came near his chin;\nhe seemed to be thirsty, but he could not take and drink;\nfor as often as the old man bent down, eager to drink,\nso often the water was swallowed down and vanished, and at his feet\nthe black earth showed, and a god withered him away.\nAnd trees with high-fluttering leaves poured down fruit from the top,\npear trees and pomegranates and apple trees with shining fruit,\nsweet figs and luxuriant olives;\nand whenever the old man reached out with his hands to grasp them,\nthe wind tossed them up toward the shadowy clouds.\nAnd indeed I saw Sisyphus, having great agony,\nlifting a huge stone with both hands.\nHe would brace himself with hands and feet together\nand push the stone upward toward the hill; but whenever he was about\nto thrust it over the top, then its power turned it back,\nand again the shameless stone rolled down to the plain.\nBut he strained and pushed it up, and the sweat poured\nfrom his limbs, and dust rose from his head.\nAnd after him I noticed the might of Heracles,\na phantom; but he himself among the immortal gods\ndelights in feasting and holds fair-ankled Hebe,\nthe daughter of great Zeus and of Hera of the golden sandals.\nAnd around him was a clamor of the dead, like birds,\nscattering in panic on every side; and he, like the dark night,\nholding his bare bow and an arrow on the string,\nglaring terribly, seeming always about to shoot.\nAnd dread across his chest was his sword-belt,\na golden strap, in which wondrous works were fashioned,\nbears and wild boars and lions with shining eyes,\nbattles and fights and slaughters and killings of men.\nMay the one who made it by his craft never make another thing,\nwhoever placed that belt into his skill.\nAnd he knew me again, when he saw me with his eyes,\nand lamenting he addressed me with winged words:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,\nah, poor man, are you too leading some evil doom,\nthe kind I once endured under the beams of the sun?\nI was a son of Zeus, son of Cronos, yet I had\nboundless misery; for I was enslaved to a far worse man,\nand he laid cruel labors upon me.\nAnd once he sent me here to bring away the dog; for he thought\nthere was no other labor more powerful than this for me;\nand I brought him up and led him out of the house of Hades,\nand Hermes sent me on, and bright-eyed Athena.\nSo saying, he went back again into the house of Hades,\nbut I stayed there steadfastly, in case anyone else should come\nof the heroic men, who had perished in former times.\nAnd I might have seen yet more men of former days, whom I wanted,\nTheseus and Peirithous, glorious children of the gods;\nbut before that, countless tribes of the dead gathered,\nwith a wondrous cry; and pale fear seized me,\nlest the revered Persephone send against me from the house of Hades\nthe Gorgon's head of that dread monster.\nThen straightway I went to the ship and commanded my comrades\nboth to embark themselves and to loose the stern-cables.\nAnd they embarked quickly and sat down at the rowing-benches.\nAnd the wave of the river carried the ship down along Ocean,\nfirst with rowing, and afterwards with a fair following wind.\n\n### Book 12\n\nBut when the ship had left the stream of the river Oceanus\nand was come to the swell of the wide-pathed sea,\nand to the island Aeaea, where are the dwelling and the dances\nof early-born Dawn and the risings of the Sun,\nthere we came and hauled the ship up on the sands,\nand we ourselves stepped out onto the surf of the sea;\nand there we lay down and slept and waited for glorious Dawn.\nBut when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen I sent my comrades to the house of Circe\nto bring the dead man, Elpenor, who had died.\nThen we cut wood quickly, where the headland jutted out farthest,\nand buried him grieving, shedding a big warm tear.\nBut when the dead man was burned, and the armour of the dead man,\nand we had heaped up a mound and drawn up a gravestone,\nwe planted on the topmost mound his well-shaped oar.\nWe were busy with each thing; nor did Circe escape our notice,\nfor we had come back from Hades, but very quickly\nshe came, dressed and ready; and her handmaidens brought with her\nbread and much meat and red sparkling wine.\nAnd she stood in the midst and spoke, the shining goddess among goddesses:\nWretched men, who living went down into the house of Hades,\ntwice-dying, when other men die but once.\nCome then, eat food and drink wine\nhere all day long; and when the Dawn appears\nyou shall sail; and I will show you the way and everything\nI will make clear, so that you suffer no harm\nupon the sea or on land through wretched evil scheming.\nSo she spoke, and our proud spirit was persuaded again.\nSo then all day long until the setting of the sun\nwe sat feasting on countless meat and sweet wine.\nBut when the sun had set and darkness came on,\nthey lay down to sleep beside the ship's stern-cables,\nbut she took me by the hand and led me apart from my dear companions,\nand sat me down and lay beside me and asked me everything;\nand I told her all things in due order.\nAnd then indeed the lady Circe addressed me with words:\nAll this has now been brought to pass; but do you listen,\nas I will tell you, and a god himself will put you in mind of it.\nFirst you will come to the Sirens, who beguile all\nmen, whoever comes near to them.\nWhoever in his ignorance draws near and hears the voice\nof the Sirens, for him neither wife nor little children\nstand beside him when he comes home, nor do they rejoice,\nbut the Sirens beguile him with their clear-sounding song,\nsitting in a meadow, and about them a great heap of bones\nof rotting men, and the skin shrinks away about them.\nBut drive past them, and stop the ears of your companions\nwith honey-sweet wax you have kneaded, lest any of the others\nhear it; but if you yourself wish to hear,\nlet them bind you in the swift ship, both hands and feet,\nupright in the mast-step, and let the ropes be fastened to it,\nso that you may hear the voice of the two Sirens and take delight in it.\nAnd if you beg your companions and command them to loose you,\nthen let them bind you with even more bonds.\nBut when your companions have driven past them,\nthen I will no longer tell you plainly thereafter\nwhich of the two ways will be yours, but you yourself\nmust resolve it in your heart; and I will tell you of both.\nOn the one side are overhanging rocks, and against them\na great wave roars of the dark-faced Amphitrite;\nthese the blessed gods call the Wandering Rocks.\nBy that way not even winged things pass, nor yet doves,\nthe timid ones, that bring ambrosia to father Zeus,\nbut even of these the smooth rock always takes one away;\nyet the father puts another in, to keep the number full.\nBy that way no ship of men has ever yet escaped, whichever comes there,\nbut the waves of the sea and the blasts of deadly fire\ncarry off together the planks of the ships and the bodies of men.\nOnly one sea-faring ship has ever sailed past it,\nthe Argo, dear to all, sailing from Aeetes.\nAnd even it would quickly have been cast against the great rocks,\nbut Hera sent it past, because Jason was dear to her.\nAnd there are two cliffs; the one reaches the broad heaven\nwith its sharp peak, and a cloud wraps about it,\ndark blue; and that never clears away, nor does the clear sky\never hold that peak, neither in summer nor at harvest time.\nNor could a mortal man climb it or set foot upon it,\nnot even if he had twenty hands and twenty feet;\nfor the rock is smooth, like something polished.\nAnd in the middle of the cliff there is a misty cave,\nturned toward the west, toward Erebus, where you,\nshining Odysseus, would steer your hollow ship past.\nNor from the hollow ship could a vigorous man\nshoot with a bow and reach the hollow cave.\nAnd therein dwells Scylla, barking terribly.\nHer voice is as much as of a new-born puppy,\nbut she herself is a wicked monster; and no one\nwould be glad to see her, not even if a god met her.\nShe has twelve feet, all misshapen,\nand six necks, very long, and on each of them\na dreadful head, and in each three rows of teeth\nclose-set and crowded, full of black death.\nShe is sunk down in the middle of the hollow cave,\nbut she puts her heads out from the dread abyss,\nand fishes there, peering greedily about the rock,\nfor dolphins and dogs, and if ever she catches something bigger,\na sea-monster, such as groaning Amphitrite feeds in thousands.\nNo sailors ever yet boast\nto have escaped her with their ship; but she carries off with each head\na man, snatching him from the dark-prowed ship.\nAnd the other cliff, Odysseus, you will see is lower.\nClose to each other; and you could shoot an arrow across.\nOn it there is a great wild fig tree, rich in leaves;\nbeneath it divine Charybdis sucks down the black water.\nThree times a day she vomits it up, and three times she sucks it down\nterribly; may you never be there when she sucks it down;\nfor not even the earth-shaker could drag you out of that evil.\nBut clinging close to Scylla's cliff, drive your ship\npast quickly, since it is far better\nto mourn six comrades in the ship than all together.\nSo she spoke, but I answered her and said:\nCome then, goddess, tell me this truly,\nwhether I might somehow escape deadly Charybdis,\nand defend myself, when she does harm to my companions.\nSo I spoke, and she answered me straightway, the shining goddess among goddesses:\nWretched man, so now you have in mind deeds of war\nand toil; will you not yield even to the immortal gods?\nShe is not mortal, but an immortal evil,\ndreadful and hard and fierce and not to be fought with;\nthere is no defence; the best thing is to flee from her.\nFor if you linger there arming yourself beside the rock,\nI fear lest she rush out at you again and catch you\nwith so many heads, and take so many men.\nBut drive on very fast, and call upon Crataiis,\nthe mother of Scylla, who bore her as a plague to mortals;\nshe will then keep her from rushing out again hereafter.\nAnd you will come to the island Thrinacia; there many\ncattle of the Sun graze, and fat sheep,\nseven herds of cattle, and as many good flocks of sheep,\nfifty in each. And no offspring is born to them,\nnor do they ever waste away. And goddesses are their shepherds,\nnymphs with lovely braids, Phaethusa and Lampetie,\nwhom divine Neaera bore to the Sun Hyperion.\nThe lady mother, having reared them and borne them,\nsettled them in the island Thrinacia to dwell far away,\nto guard the sheep of their father and the curving cattle.\nIf you leave them unharmed and care for your homecoming,\nthen you might still reach Ithaca, though suffering troubles;\nbut if you harm them, then I foretell destruction for you,\nfor your ship and your companions; and though you yourself escape,\nyou will come home late and wretched, having lost all your companions.\nSo she spoke, and straightway golden-throned Dawn came.\nThen the shining goddess among goddesses went up across the island;\nbut I went to the ship and roused my companions\nto embark themselves and to loose the stern-cables.\nThey quickly boarded and sat down at the benches.\nSitting in order they struck the grey sea with their oars.\nAnd behind us, from the dark-prowed ship,\nfair Circe of the lovely braids, a dread goddess with a human voice,\nsent a following breeze, filling the sails, a good companion.\nAt once we made all things ready throughout the ship\nand sat down; and the wind and the helmsman steered her.\nThen I spoke among my companions, grieving at heart:\nFriends, it is not right that one or two alone should know\nthe oracles which Circe told me, the shining goddess among goddesses;\nbut I will tell you, so that knowing we may either die\nor avoid death and escape destruction.\nFirst she bade us avoid the voice of the wondrous Sirens\nand their flowering meadow.\nOnly me she bade hear their voice; but bind me\nin a painful bond, so that I stay fixed there,\nupright in the mast-step, and let the ropes be fastened to it.\nAnd if I beg you and command you to loose me,\nthen you must press me down with even more bonds.\nSo I told my companions everything, making it clear;\nand meanwhile the well-built ship came quickly\nto the island of the two Sirens; for a harmless fair wind pressed it on.\nAt once then the wind ceased, and there was\na windless calm, and a god lulled the waves to sleep.\nMy companions rose and furled the ship's sails\nand laid them in the hollow ship, and sitting at the oars\nthey whitened the water with their polished pine blades.\nBut I cut a great wheel of wax with sharp bronze\ninto small pieces, and pressed it with my strong hands;\nand quickly the wax softened, since the great might compelled it,\nand the ray of the Sun, the son of the lord Hyperion.\nAnd in order I smeared it on the ears of all my companions.\nAnd they bound me in the ship, both hands and feet together,\nupright in the mast-step, and fastened the ropes to it;\nand they themselves sat and struck the grey sea with their oars.\nBut when we were as far off as a man's shout can carry,\nas we sped swiftly, the swift-sailing ship did not escape their notice\nas it came near, and they prepared their clear-sounding song:\nCome here, come, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans,\nstop your ship, so that you may hear our voice.\nFor no one has ever yet rowed past this place in his black ship,\nbefore hearing the honey-sweet voice from our mouths,\nbut he goes on, delighted, and knowing more than before.\nFor we know all that in wide Troy\nthe Argives and the Trojans suffered by the will of the gods,\nand we know all that comes to pass on the bountiful earth.\nSo they spoke, sending forth their lovely voice; and my heart\nwanted to listen, and I ordered my companions to loose me,\nnodding with my brows; but they fell to rowing the harder.\nAt once Perimedes and Eurylochus rose\nand bound me in more bonds and pressed me harder still.\nBut when they had passed them by, and no longer thereafter\ndid we hear the voice of the Sirens nor their song,\nat once my trusty companions took off the wax\nwhich I had smeared on their ears, and loosed me from my bonds.\nBut when we had left the island, at once thereafter\nI saw smoke and a great wave and heard a thundering noise.\nAnd from their hands in fear the oars flew,\nand all clattered along the current; and there the ship stopped,\nsince they no longer urged the sharp oars with their hands.\nBut I went through the ship and roused my companions\nwith gentle words, standing beside each man:\nFriends, we are not yet unacquainted with evils;\nsurely this is no greater evil than when the Cyclops\npenned us in his hollow cave with his strong might;\nbut even from there, by my courage and counsel and mind,\nwe escaped, and I think we shall remember these things too.\nBut come now, let us all be persuaded as I shall say.\nYou, strike the deep surf of the sea with your oars,\nsitting at the benches, in the hope that Zeus\nmay grant us to escape and flee this destruction;\nand to you, helmsman, I give this command; but lay it\nin your heart, since you handle the steering-oars of the hollow ship.\nKeep the ship outside this smoke and wave,\nand cling to the cliff, lest she escape your notice\nand rush out there and cast us into evil.\nSo I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words.\nBut Scylla I no longer told them of, a hopeless grief,\nlest somehow in fear my companions might cease\nfrom rowing and huddle together inside the ship.\nAnd then I forgot the grievous command of Circe,\nsince she did not bid me arm myself at all.\nBut I went down into my glorious armour and took two spears\nlong in my hands, and went up onto the ship's deck\nat the prow; for I expected that she would appear there first,\nScylla of the rocks, who brought trouble to my companions.\nBut I could not see her anywhere, and my eyes grew weary\nas I peered everywhere toward the misty rock.\nWe sailed up the narrow strait groaning;\non one side Scylla, on the other divine Charybdis\nterribly sucked down the salt water of the sea.\nWhen she vomited it up, like a cauldron on a great fire\nshe boiled up all seething, and the spray on high\nfell upon both the topmost cliffs;\nbut when she swallowed down the salt water of the sea,\nshe showed all seething within, and around the rock\nshe roared terribly, and below the ground appeared\nblack with sand; and pale fear seized them.\nWe looked toward her in fear of destruction;\nand meanwhile Scylla snatched six of my companions from the hollow ship,\nthe strongest of all in hands and in strength.\nWhen I looked toward the swift ship and among my companions,\nI already noticed the feet and the hands of those men\nbeing lifted up on high; and they called out to me,\ncalling me by name, for the last time, grieving at heart.\nAs when a fisherman on a jutting rock with a very long rod\ncasts a lure for the little fish, a snare of food,\nand sends into the sea the horn of a field-grazing ox,\nand then catches one gasping and throws it out,\nso those men were lifted gasping toward the rocks;\nand there in the mouth of the cave she devoured them as they screamed,\nstretching out their hands to me in the terrible fight;\nthat was the most pitiful thing my eyes ever saw\nof all the toils I suffered, searching out the passages of the sea.\nBut when we had escaped the rocks and dread Charybdis\nand Scylla, at once thereafter we came to the flawless island\nof the god; and there were fair broad-browed cattle,\nand many fat sheep of Hyperion the Sun.\nThen, while I was still on the sea in the black ship,\nI heard the lowing of the cattle as they were stalled\nand the bleating of sheep; and a saying fell into my heart\nof the blind seer, Teiresias of Thebes,\nand of Circe of Aeaea, who had told me very many things,\nto avoid the island of the Sun who delights mortals.\nThen I spoke among my companions, grieving at heart:\nHear my words, companions, though you suffer troubles,\nso that I may tell you the prophecies of Teiresias\nand of Circe of Aeaea, who told me very many things,\nto avoid the island of the Sun who delights mortals;\nfor there, she said, would be the most terrible evil for us.\nBut drive the black ship past the island.\nSo I spoke, and their dear hearts were broken within them.\nAt once Eurylochus answered me with a hateful word:\nYou are hard, Odysseus; there is great strength in you, and your limbs\nnever grow weary; surely you are made all of iron,\nyou who do not let your companions, worn out with toil and with sleep,\nset foot on land, where we might once more\nprepare a pleasant supper on the sea-girt island,\nbut you order us to wander thus through the swift night,\ndriven away from the island, on the misty sea.\nAt night come hard winds, the ruin of ships;\nhow could anyone escape sheer destruction,\nif suddenly a squall of wind should come,\nfrom the South Wind or from the harsh West Wind, which most of all\ntear a ship apart, against the will of the lords, the gods?\nBut come now, let us obey the black night,\nand prepare supper, staying beside the swift ship,\nand at dawn we will go aboard and put out into the broad sea.\nSo spoke Eurylochus, and the other companions agreed.\nAnd then I knew that the god was planning evil;\nand I spoke to him and addressed him with winged words:\nEurylochus, you surely force me hard, though I am only one man.\nBut come now, all of you swear me a strong oath:\nif we find any herd of cattle or a great flock of sheep,\nlet no one in wicked recklessness\nkill a cow or any sheep; but quietly\neat the food that immortal Circe gave.\nSo I spoke, and they straightway swore as I commanded.\nBut when they had sworn and finished the oath,\nwe moored the well-built ship in the hollow harbour\nnear the sweet water, and the companions stepped out\nof the ship, and then they prepared supper skillfully.\nBut when they had put away the desire for drink and for food,\nthen they remembered and wept for their dear companions,\nwhom Scylla had eaten, snatching them from the hollow ship;\nand as they wept, sweet sleep came over them.\nBut when it was the third part of the night, and the stars had gone by,\nZeus the cloud-gatherer roused a violent wind against us\nwith a wondrous squall, and covered with clouds\nthe land and the sea together; and night rushed down from heaven.\nBut when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nwe moored the ship, dragging it into a hollow cave.\nAnd there were fair dancing places of the nymphs and seats;\nand then I called an assembly and spoke among them:\nFriends, in the swift ship there is food and drink,\nso let us keep away from the cattle, lest we suffer harm;\nfor these cattle and fat sheep belong to a dread god,\nthe Sun, who sees all things and hears all things.\nSo I spoke, and their proud spirit was persuaded.\nAnd for a whole month the South Wind blew without ceasing, and no other\nwind arose after that except the East Wind and the South Wind.\nAs long as they had grain and red wine,\nso long they kept away from the cattle, longing to live.\nBut when all the provisions of the ship were gone,\nthen they roamed about hunting by necessity,\nfor fish and birds, whatever came to their hands,\nwith curved hooks, and hunger wore out their bellies;\nthen I went off across the island, so that I might pray\nto the gods, if anyone would show me the way home.\nBut when I had gone through the island and got away from my companions,\nI washed my hands, in a place sheltered from the wind,\nand prayed to all the gods who hold Olympus;\nand they poured sweet sleep over my eyelids.\nBut Eurylochus began to give my companions evil counsel:\nHear my words, companions, though you suffer troubles.\nAll deaths are hateful to wretched mortals,\nbut the most pitiful is to die of hunger and meet that fate.\nBut come, let us drive off the best of the Sun's cattle\nand sacrifice to the immortals who hold the broad heaven.\nAnd if we reach Ithaca, our native land,\nwe will quickly build for the Sun Hyperion a rich temple,\nand in it we will set many fine offerings.\nAnd if, angered about the straight-horned cattle,\nhe wishes to destroy the ship, and the other gods agree with him,\nI would rather lose my life at once, gulping down the wave,\nthan waste away for a long time on a deserted island.\nSo spoke Eurylochus, and the other companions agreed.\nAt once they drove off the best of the Sun's cattle\nfrom nearby, for not far from the dark-prowed ship\nthe fine, curving, broad-browed cattle were grazing;\nand they stood around them and prayed to the gods,\nplucking tender leaves from a high-leafed oak;\nfor they had no white barley on the well-benched ship.\nBut when they had prayed and slaughtered and flayed them,\nthey cut out the thigh-bones and covered them with fat,\nmaking a double layer, and laid raw pieces on top of them.\nThey had no wine to pour on the burning offerings,\nbut they poured water and roasted all the innards.\nBut when the thighs were burned and they had tasted the innards,\nthey chopped up the rest and pierced it on spits.\nAnd then sweet sleep rushed from my eyelids,\nand I went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.\nBut when I came near the curved ship,\nthen the sweet savour of the fat wrapped around me.\nI groaned and cried aloud to the immortal gods:\nFather Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,\nsurely you lulled me into ruin with a pitiless sleep.\nAnd my companions staying behind planned a great deed.\nAnd swift-footed Lampetie of the long robe came as a messenger\nto the Sun Hyperion, that we had killed his cattle.\nAnd at once, angered at heart, he spoke among the immortals:\nFather Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,\ntake vengeance on the companions of Odysseus, son of Laertes,\nwho killed my cattle in their arrogance, cattle in which I\ndelighted as I went up into the starry heaven,\nand when I turned back again to the earth from heaven.\nAnd if they do not pay me a fitting price for the cattle,\nI will go down into Hades and shine among the dead.\nAnd Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him and said:\nSun, you shine indeed among the immortals\nand among mortal men on the grain-giving earth;\nbut I will quickly strike their swift ship with a bright thunderbolt\nand smash it into small pieces in the middle of the wine-dark sea.\nAnd I heard this from fair-haired Calypso;\nand she said she herself had heard it from Hermes the guide.\nBut when I came down to the ship and the sea,\nI reproached one man after another, standing beside each, but we could\nfind no remedy, and the cattle were already dead.\nAnd at once the gods showed them signs:\nthe hides crawled, and the meat on the spits bellowed,\nboth roasted and raw, and a voice came out like that of cattle.\nFor six days then my trusty companions\nfeasted on the best of the Sun's cattle which they had driven off;\nbut when Zeus the son of Cronos brought the seventh day,\nthen the wind ceased, blowing in a squall,\nand we quickly went aboard and put out into the broad sea,\nsetting up the mast and hoisting the white sails.\nBut when we had left the island, and no other\nland appeared, but only sky and sea,\nthen the son of Cronos set a dark cloud\nabove the hollow ship, and the sea grew murky beneath it.\nAnd she ran on for no long time; for quickly came\nthe West Wind screaming, blowing with a great squall,\nand the blast of the wind snapped both the forestays of the mast;\nand the mast fell backward, and all the gear\npoured down into the bilge. And it struck the head\nof the helmsman at the stern of the ship, and smashed all\nthe bones of his head together; and he, like a diver,\nfell down from the deck, and his proud spirit left his bones.\nAnd Zeus thundered at the same time and hurled a thunderbolt at the ship;\nand she was shaken all over, struck by the bolt of Zeus,\nand filled with sulphur, and my companions fell from the ship.\nAnd they, like sea-crows, around the black ship\nwere carried by the waves, and the god took away their homecoming.\nBut I went up and down through the ship, until the surge\nloosed the sides from the keel, and the wave carried her stripped bare,\nand it snapped the mast off at the keel. And upon it\na back-stay had been thrown, made of ox-hide;\nwith this I bound both together, the keel and the mast,\nand sitting on them I was carried by the deadly winds.\nThen indeed the West Wind ceased, blowing in a squall,\nand the South Wind came quickly, bringing grief to my heart,\nso that I might measure out deadly Charybdis again.\nAll night long I was carried, and at the rising of the sun\nI came to the rock of Scylla and to dread Charybdis.\nShe was sucking down the salt water of the sea;\nbut I, lifted up high toward the great fig tree,\nclung to it and held on, like a bat. But I had nowhere\nto set my feet firmly or to stand on;\nfor the roots were far below, and the branches hung high,\nlong and great, and they overshadowed Charybdis.\nI held on unceasingly, until she should vomit up again\nthe mast and the keel; and, though I longed for them, they came\nlate; but at the hour when a man rises from the assembly for supper,\njudging many quarrels of young men who plead their cases,\nat that hour the timbers of Charybdis appeared.\nI let go my feet and hands to fall down from above,\nand dropped with a thud in the middle, beside the long timbers,\nand sitting on them I rowed with my hands.\nBut Scylla the father of men and gods did not let me\nsee again; for I would not have escaped sheer destruction.\nFrom there I was carried for nine days, and on the tenth night\nthe gods brought me to the island Ogygia, where Calypso\nlives, fair-haired, a dread goddess with a human voice,\nwho loved me and cared for me. Why do I tell you these things?\nFor I already told them to you yesterday in your house,\nto you and to your strong wife; and it is hateful to me\nto tell again a tale that has been clearly told.\n\n### Book 13\n\nSo he spoke, and all of them fell silent, hushed in stillness,\nheld spellbound in their hearts through the shadowy halls.\nThen Alcinous answered him and spoke aloud:\nOdysseus, since you have come to my house with its bronze threshold,\nhigh-roofed, I think you shall not be driven back again\nto return home, though you have suffered very many things.\nTo each man among you I speak these words, as I desire,\nas many as in my halls ever drink the elders' flaming wine\nand listen to the singer.\nThe clothing for the stranger lies in the well-smoothed chest,\nand the gold intricately wrought, and all the other\ngifts that the counsellors of the Phaeacians brought here.\nBut come, let us give him a great tripod and a cauldron,\nman by man; and we in turn, gathering through the district,\nshall be repaid; for it is hard for one man to give a gift for nothing.\nSo spoke Alcinous, and his word pleased them.\nThey went each to his own house to lie down to sleep,\nand when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthey hurried to the ship, and carried the bronze that gladdens men.\nAnd the sacred might of Alcinous stowed these things well,\ngoing himself through the ship beneath the benches, lest any of the comrades\nbe harmed as they rowed, when they should hasten at the oars.\nThey went to the house of Alcinous and made ready the feast.\nAnd the sacred might of Alcinous sacrificed a bull for them\nto Zeus the dark-clouded, son of Cronus, who rules over all.\nBurning the thigh bones, they feasted on a glorious feast,\ntaking delight; and among them sang the godlike singer,\nDemodocus, honoured by the people. But Odysseus\nkept turning his head often toward the all-shining sun,\neager for it to set; for he longed to be gone.\nAs when a man longs for his supper, for whom all day long\nhis wine-dark oxen have drawn the jointed plough through the fallow field,\nand gladly for him the light of the sun goes down,\nso that he may go to his supper, and his knees fail as he walks,\nso welcome to Odysseus was the setting light of the sun.\nAt once he spoke among the oar-loving Phaeacians,\nand above all to Alcinous he declared his word:\nAlcinous, lord, most renowned of all peoples,\nsend me on my way with libations, unharmed, and may you yourselves fare well;\nfor already all that my dear heart desired is accomplished,\nescort and dear gifts; may the gods who dwell in heaven\nmake them blessed; and may I find at home a blameless wife\nwhen I return, with my dear ones safe and sound.\nBut do you, remaining here, give joy to your wedded wives\nand children; and may the gods grant you every excellence,\nand may no evil come among your people.\nSo he spoke, and they all praised him and urged\nthat the stranger be sent on his way, since he had spoken fittingly.\nAnd then the sacred might of Alcinous addressed the herald:\nPontonous, mix the bowl and serve the honey-hearted wine\nto all throughout the hall, so that when we have prayed to father Zeus\nwe may send the stranger to his own native land.\nSo he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine,\nand served it to all, standing by each in turn; and they poured libations to the blessed gods\nwho hold the wide heaven,\nfrom where they sat. And godlike Odysseus stood up,\nand placed in the hand of Arete a two-handled cup,\nand speaking he addressed her with winged words:\nFarewell to me, O queen, forever, until old age\nand death come, which are the lot of humankind.\nBut I go home; and may you take delight in this house\nwith your children and your people and Alcinous the king.\nSo saying, godlike Odysseus stepped over the threshold,\nand with him the sacred might of Alcinous sent the herald\nto lead the way to the swift ship and the shore of the sea;\nand Arete sent along with him her handmaid women,\none carrying a well-washed cloak and a tunic,\nand to another she gave a close-packed chest to carry along;\nand a third brought bread and red wine.\nBut when they had come down to the ship and the sea,\nat once the noble escorts in the hollow ship\nreceived them and stowed them, all drink and all food;\nand they spread for Odysseus a rug and a sheet of linen\non the deck planks of the hollow ship, so that he might sleep a sleep that knows no waking,\nat the stern; and he himself stepped aboard and lay down\nin silence; and they sat each at his own bench\nin order, and loosed the cable from the pierced stone.\nWhen they had leaned back and were tossing the salt sea with their oars,\nthen sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids,\na sleep that knows no waking, most pleasant, most like to death.\nAnd she, as when on a plain four stallion horses,\nall starting together under the strokes of the whip,\nlifting themselves high, swiftly accomplish their course,\nso her stern rose up, and behind her a great purple wave\nraged of the much-resounding sea.\nAnd she ran very safely and steadily; not even a hawk,\nthe circling hawk, could have kept pace with her, the lightest of winged things.\nSo swiftly running she cut through the waves of the sea,\ncarrying a man whose counsels were like to the gods;\nwho before had suffered very many griefs in his own heart,\npassing through wars of men and grievous waves,\nyet then he slept quietly, forgetful of all that he had endured.\nWhen the brightest star rose up, which comes most of all\nannouncing the light of early-born Dawn,\nthen the sea-faring ship drew near to the island.\nThere is a certain harbour of Phorcys, the old man of the sea,\nin the land of Ithaca; and two jutting headlands are in it,\nsheer cliffs, leaning toward the harbour,\nwhich shelter the great wave of the ill-blowing winds\nfrom outside; and within, without a mooring line, stay\nwell-benched ships, when they have reached the measure of their anchorage.\nAnd at the head of the harbour is a long-leafed olive,\nand near it a lovely shadowy cave,\nsacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads.\nIn it are mixing bowls and two-handled jars\nof stone; and there the bees store up their honey.\nAnd in it are long stone looms, where the nymphs\nweave sea-purple cloth, a wonder to behold;\nand in it are ever-flowing waters. And it has two doors,\none toward the North, a descent for mortals,\nand the other toward the South, and that one is more divine; and by that way\nno men enter, but it is the path of the immortals.\nThere they drove in, not knowing it beforehand; and she then\nran aground on the mainland as far as half of her whole length,\nhurrying on; so greatly was the strength of the rowers urgent.\nAnd they, stepping out of the well-benched ship onto the land,\nfirst lifted Odysseus out of the hollow ship\ntogether with his linen sheet and his shining rug,\nand laid him on the sand, mastered by sleep,\nand lifted out the possessions which the noble Phaeacians\nhad given him as he went homeward, through great-hearted Athena.\nAnd these they piled together beside the foot of the olive\noff the road, lest some one of the passing men\ncome upon them before Odysseus woke and do him harm;\nand they themselves went back home again. Nor did the earth-shaker\nforget the threats which he had first made against godlike Odysseus,\nbut he asked the counsel of Zeus:\nFather Zeus, no longer shall I be honoured\namong the immortal gods, since mortals do not honour me at all,\nthe Phaeacians, who are indeed of my own lineage.\nFor even now I said that Odysseus, having suffered many evils,\nwould come home; and I never wholly took from him his homecoming,\nsince you first promised and nodded assent.\nBut they, carrying him sleeping in the swift ship over the sea,\nset him down in Ithaca, and gave him countless gifts,\nbronze and gold in abundance and woven clothing,\nmany things, such as Odysseus would never have carried away from Troy,\neven if he had come unharmed, having drawn his share from the spoil.\nAnd Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him and said:\nAlas, earth-shaker of wide strength, what a thing you have said.\nThe gods do not dishonour you; and it would be hard\nto cast dishonour upon the eldest and the best.\nBut if any man, yielding to your force and might,\ndoes not honour you, there is always vengeance for you hereafter too.\nDo as you wish, and as is dear to your heart.\nThen Poseidon the earth-shaker answered him:\nI would straightway do it, dark-clouded one, as you say;\nbut I always regard and shun your anger.\nNow again I wish that the very beautiful ship of the Phaeacians,\nas it returns from its escort, in the misty sea,\nI might smash, so that they may now hold back and cease from the escort\nof mortals, and wrap a great mountain around their city.\nAnd Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him:\nMy dear one, as it seems best to my own heart,\nwhen all the people from the city see it as it is rowed in,\nthen set a stone near the land,\nlike to a swift ship, so that all men may marvel,\nand wrap a great mountain around their city.\nBut when Poseidon the earth-shaker heard this,\nhe went to Scheria, where the Phaeacians dwell.\nThere he waited; and the sea-faring ship came very near,\nswiftly driven; and the earth-shaker came near it,\nwho turned it to stone and rooted it fast beneath,\nstriking it with the flat of his hand; and he had gone away.\nAnd they spoke winged words to one another,\nthe Phaeacians of long oars, men famous for their ships.\nAnd thus would one say, looking at another near him:\nAlas, who has bound the swift ship in the sea\nas it was being rowed home? And indeed it had appeared entire.\nSo would one speak; but they did not know how it had happened.\nThen Alcinous addressed them and said:\nAlas, indeed the prophecies spoken long ago have come upon me,\nfrom my father, who said that Poseidon was angered\nagainst us, because we are blameless escorts of all men.\nHe said that one day a very beautiful ship of Phaeacian men,\nreturning from an escort, in the misty sea,\nwould be smashed, and a great mountain would wrap around our city.\nSo the old man spoke; and now all this is being fulfilled.\nBut come, let us all be persuaded as I shall say:\ncease from the escort of mortals, whenever any one comes\nto our city; and to Poseidon let us sacrifice twelve bulls,\nchosen ones, in the hope that he may take pity,\nand not wrap a towering mountain around our city.\nSo he spoke, and they were afraid, and made ready the bulls.\nSo they prayed to lord Poseidon,\nthe leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacian people,\nstanding around the altar. And godlike Odysseus woke\nas he slept in his native land, and he did not recognize it,\nhaving been long away; for the goddess had poured mist around him,\nPallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, so that she might make him\nunrecognized, and tell him everything,\nlest his wife or townsmen or friends recognize him before\nhe should exact payment for all the outrage of the suitors.\nTherefore all things appeared of another shape to the lord,\nthe long straight paths and the harbours fit for every mooring,\nand the steep cliffs and the flourishing trees.\nHe sprang up and stood, and looked upon his native land;\nand then he groaned aloud and smote his thighs\nwith the flat of his hands, and lamenting he spoke a word:\nWoe is me, into the land of what mortals have I come now?\nAre they violent and savage, and not just,\nor are they hospitable, and is their mind god-fearing?\nWhere shall I carry these many goods? And where shall I myself\nwander? Would that I had stayed with the Phaeacians\nthere; and I might have come to another of the over-mighty kings,\nwho would have loved me and sent me on my way.\nBut now I do not know where to put these things, nor will I leave them\nthere, lest they become spoil for others.\nAlas, so the leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians were not\nall thoughtful and just,\nwho led me away to another land, though they said\nthey would bring me to clear-seen Ithaca, and they did not fulfil it.\nMay Zeus, the god of suppliants, punish them, who also\nwatches over other men and takes vengeance on whoever does wrong.\nBut come, let me count the goods and look them over,\nlest they have gone off carrying some of them in the hollow ship.\nSo saying, he counted the very beautiful tripods and cauldrons\nand the gold and the woven beautiful garments.\nHe missed nothing of these; but he lamented for his native land,\ncrawling along the shore of the much-resounding sea,\nlamenting greatly. And Athena came near to him,\nin form like a young man, a herdsman of sheep,\nvery delicate, such as the sons of lords are,\nwearing a well-made two-fold cloak about her shoulders;\nand under her shining feet she had sandals, and in her hands a spear.\nAnd Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her, and came to meet her,\nand speaking he addressed her with winged words:\nFriend, since I first come upon you in this place,\ngreetings, and do not meet me with any evil intent,\nbut save these things, and save me; for to you I pray\nas to a god, and I come to your dear knees.\nAnd tell me this truly, so that I may know it well:\nWhat land, what people, what men are born here?\nIs it some clear-seen island, or some shore\nlying there by the sea of the rich-soiled mainland?\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:\nYou are a fool, stranger, or you have come from far away,\nif you ask about this land. And it is not at all\nso nameless; very many know it,\nboth those who dwell toward the dawn and the sun,\nand those who live behind toward the misty darkness.\nIndeed it is rugged and not fit for horses,\nnor overly poor, but it is not made broad either.\nFor in it there is unspeakable grain, and in it wine\nis produced; and rain always holds it, and flourishing dew;\nit is good for grazing goats and cattle; there is woodland\nof every kind, and in it there are ever-flowing watering places.\nSo, stranger, the name of Ithaca has reached even to Troy,\nwhich they say is far from the land of Achaea.\nSo she spoke, and much-enduring godlike Odysseus rejoiced,\nglad for his native land, as she told him,\nPallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis;\nand speaking he addressed her with winged words:\nBut he did not speak the truth, and he held his word back again,\nalways turning in his breast a mind full of gain:\nI heard of Ithaca even in broad Crete,\nfar across the sea; and now I myself have come\nwith these goods; and leaving behind as much again for my children\nI am a fugitive, because I killed the dear son of Idomeneus,\nOrsilochus swift of foot, who in broad Crete\nconquered men who earn their bread with his swift feet,\nbecause he wished to rob me of all the spoil\nfrom Troy, for which I suffered griefs in my heart,\npassing through wars of men and grievous waves,\nbecause I did not serve, pleasing his father,\nin the land of the Trojans, but led other comrades.\nHim, as he came down from the field, I struck with my bronze-tipped spear,\nlying in wait with a comrade near the road;\nand a very dark night held the sky, and no one\nof men noticed us, and I took his life unseen.\nBut when I had killed him with the sharp bronze,\nat once I went to the ship and besought the noble Phoenicians,\nand I gave them a spoil that pleased their hearts;\nI asked them to set me down and bring me to Pylos\nor to godlike Elis, where the Epeians rule.\nBut indeed the force of the wind drove them from there,\nmuch against their will, and they did not wish to deceive me.\nAnd driven wandering from there, we came here by night.\nWith haste we rowed into the harbour, and none of us\nhad any thought of supper, though we much needed to take it,\nbut just as we were, all of us lay down after stepping off the ship.\nThere sweet sleep came upon me as I lay wearied,\nand they took my goods out of the hollow ship\nand set them down where I myself lay on the sand.\nAnd they, going aboard for well-peopled Sidon,\nwent off; and I was left with an aching heart.\nSo he spoke, and the goddess bright-eyed Athena smiled,\nand stroked him with her hand; and she was like in form to a woman,\nbeautiful and tall, and skilled in glorious works;\nand speaking she addressed him with winged words:\nCrafty and thievish would he be who could outdo you\nin all deceits, even if a god should contend with you.\nHard one, of many wiles, insatiate in tricks, you were not going\nto cease from deceits, not even when in your own land,\nand from thievish words, which are dear to you from the ground up.\nBut come, let us no longer speak of these things, since we both know\ncunning, since you are far the best of all mortals\nin counsel and in speech, and I among all the gods\nam famed for wisdom and for cunning; nor did you recognize\nPallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, who always\nstands by you in all labours and guards you,\nand made you dear to all the Phaeacians,\nand now I have come here, so that I may weave counsel with you\nand hide the goods which the noble Phaeacians\ngave you as you went homeward, by my counsel and mind,\nand tell you all the woes that fate decrees for you\nto endure in your well-built halls; and you must endure them perforce,\nand not reveal it to anyone, neither man nor woman,\nof all people, that you have come wandering, but in silence\nendure many griefs, submitting to the violence of men.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her:\nHard it is, goddess, for a mortal who meets you to know you,\neven for one well skilled; for you liken yourself to everything.\nBut this I know well, that you were kind to me before,\nwhile we sons of the Achaeans fought at Troy.\nBut when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,\nand went aboard the ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans,\nI did not see you after that, daughter of Zeus, nor did I notice\nyou boarding my ship, that you might ward off some grief from me.\nBut ever holding in my own heart a torn spirit\nI wandered, until the gods released me from misery;\nuntil, in the rich land of the Phaeacian men,\nyou encouraged me with words and yourself led me to the city.\nBut now I beseech you by your father, for I do not think\nthat I have come to clear-seen Ithaca, but that I wander over some other\nland; and I think you are mocking me\nin saying this, so that you may beguile my mind.\nTell me if I have truly come to my dear native land.\nThen the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:\nAlways such is the thought in your breast;\ntherefore I cannot forsake you in your misery,\nbecause you are gentle and quick-minded and prudent.\nFor gladly would another man, coming home after wandering,\nlong in his halls to see his children and his wife;\nbut it is not yet dear to you to learn or to ask,\nbefore you have made trial of your wife, who sits thus\nin the halls, and for her always wretched\nthe nights and the days waste away as she sheds tears.\nBut I never disbelieved this, but in my heart\nI knew that you would return having lost all your comrades;\nbut I did not wish to fight with Poseidon\nmy father's brother, who put wrath in his heart against you,\nangry because you blinded his dear son.\nBut come, I will show you the seat of Ithaca, so that you may believe.\nThis is the harbour of Phorcys, the old man of the sea,\nand this at the head of the harbour is the long-leafed olive;\nand near it the lovely shadowy cave,\nsacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads;\nand this is the vaulted grotto, where you\nused to offer many perfect hecatombs to the nymphs;\nand this is Mount Neriton, clothed in forest.\nSo speaking, the goddess scattered the mist, and the land appeared;\nand much-enduring godlike Odysseus rejoiced,\nglad for his land, and he kissed the life-giving earth.\nAt once he prayed to the nymphs, raising his hands:\nNymphs, Naiads, daughters of Zeus, I never\nthought I would see you; and now with gentle prayers\ngreetings; and we shall give gifts too, as before,\nif the daughter of Zeus, driver of the spoil, willingly allows me\nboth to live myself and to raise up my dear son.\nThen the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:\nTake heart, let not these things weigh on your mind.\nBut the goods, let us put them at once now\nin the recess of the wondrous cave, so that these may stay safe for you;\nand let us ourselves consider how things may be far the best.\nSo speaking, the goddess went into the shadowy cave,\nsearching out the hiding places through the cave; and Odysseus\ncarried all things near, gold and unyielding bronze\nand well-made clothing, which the Phaeacians gave him.\nAnd he stowed them well, and set a stone upon the doors,\nPallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis.\nAnd the two, sitting beside the foot of the sacred olive,\nplanned destruction for the overbearing suitors.\nAnd the goddess bright-eyed Athena began the speaking:\nZeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,\nconsider how you will lay hands on the shameless suitors,\nwho now for three years have lorded it in your hall,\nwooing your godlike wife and offering bride-gifts;\nand she, ever mourning in her heart for your return,\nholds hope out to all and promises each man,\nsending messages, but her mind longs for other things.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her:\nAlas, truly I was about to perish in my halls\nby the evil fate of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,\nif you, goddess, had not told me each thing as is fitting.\nBut come, weave counsel, how I may take vengeance on them;\nand stand beside me yourself, putting in me much-daring might,\nsuch as when we loosed the shining battlements of Troy.\nIf, thus eager, you would stand by me, bright-eyed one,\nthen I would fight even against three hundred men\nwith you, honoured goddess, when you readily help me.\nThen the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:\nIndeed I shall be present with you, and you will not escape my notice,\nwhen we busy ourselves with these things; and I think that some,\nboth with blood and brains, shall defile the boundless floor\nof the suitors, who devour your livelihood.\nBut come, I will make you unrecognized by all mortals;\nI will shrivel the fair skin on your supple limbs,\nand destroy the yellow hair from your head, and put about you a garment\nwhich a man would loathe to see one wearing,\nand I will dim your eyes, formerly so very beautiful,\nso that you may appear unseemly to all the suitors\nand to your wife and child, whom you left in the halls.\nAnd do you first of all go to the swineherd,\nwho is the guardian of your pigs, and is likewise kindly disposed to you,\nand loves your son and prudent Penelope.\nYou will find him sitting among the swine; and they feed\nbeside the rock of Corax and the spring Arethusa,\neating the acorn that pleases them and drinking the dark water,\nwhich nourishes the rich fat of the swine.\nStay there and, sitting beside him, ask him all things,\nwhile I go to Sparta of fair women\nto call Telemachus, your dear son, Odysseus;\nwho has gone to spacious Lacedaemon, to Menelaus,\nto ask news of you, if perhaps you are still alive.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her:\nWhy then did you not tell him, you who know all things in your mind?\nWas it so that he too might wander and suffer griefs\nover the barren sea? And others devour his substance?\nThen the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:\nLet him not be too much in your thoughts.\nI myself was escorting him, so that he might win good fame\nby going there; and he has no toil, but sits at ease\nin the house of the son of Atreus, and countless gifts lie beside him.\nTruly the young men lie in wait for him with a black ship,\neager to kill him before he reaches his native land;\nbut I do not think that will happen before the earth holds some one\nof the suitors, who devour your livelihood.\nSo speaking, Athena touched him with her wand.\nShe shrivelled the fair skin on his supple limbs,\nand destroyed the yellow hair from his head, and about all his limbs\nshe put the skin of an old man,\nand dimmed his eyes, formerly so very beautiful;\nand she cast about him another evil rag and a tunic,\ntorn and filthy, begrimed with evil smoke;\nand she clothed him in the great hide of a swift deer,\nbare; and she gave him a staff and an unseemly beggar's bag,\nmuch torn; and in it was a twisted strap for a carrying cord.\nSo the two, having thus planned, parted. And she then\nwent to godlike Lacedaemon after the son of Odysseus.\n\n### Book 14\n\nBut he went up from the harbor by the rough track\nthrough the wooded country, over the heights, where Athena\nhad shown him the godlike swineherd, who of his livelihood most\ncared for the slaves whom godlike Odysseus had won.\nHe found him sitting in the porch, where his courtyard\nhad been built high, in a place seen from all around,\nfair and great, with a running space about it; which the swineherd\nhad built himself for the pigs while his master was away,\napart from the mistress and old Laertes,\nwith quarried stones, and he fenced it about with wild pear.\nOutside he drove stakes through and through on either side,\nthick and close-set, splitting the dark oak in two;\nand inside the courtyard he made twelve sties\nnear to one another, beds for the swine; and in each\nfifty swine that sleep on the ground were penned,\nsows with young; but the boars slept outside,\nfar fewer; for the godlike suitors kept wearing them down by eating,\nsince the swineherd kept sending out\nalways the best of all the well-fed fatlings;\nand these were three hundred and sixty.\nAnd beside them four dogs, like wild beasts, always slept,\nfour, which the swineherd, leader of men, had reared.\nHe himself was fitting sandals about his feet,\ncutting a well-colored oxhide; and the others\nhad gone each his own way with the gathered swine,\nthe three of them; the fourth he had sent off to the city\nto bring a pig to the overbearing suitors, under compulsion,\nso that when they had sacrificed they might glut their hearts with meat.\nSuddenly the baying dogs caught sight of Odysseus.\nThey ran at him yelping; but Odysseus\nsank down with presence of mind, and the staff fell from his hand.\nThere beside his own steading he might have suffered unseemly pain;\nbut the swineherd quickly, with swift feet, rushing after him,\nhurried through the porch, and the hide fell from his hand.\nHe shouted at the dogs and drove them each a different way\nwith a shower of stones; and he spoke to his master:\nOld man, the dogs nearly tore you apart\nin a moment, and you would have poured reproach upon me.\nAnd the gods have given me other griefs and groans besides;\nfor mourning and grieving for my godlike master\nI sit here, and I fatten fat pigs for others\nto eat; but he, longing somewhere for food,\nwanders among the lands and cities of men of other speech,\nif perhaps he still lives and sees the light of the sun.\nBut come, old man, let us go to the hut, so that you yourself,\nwhen you have glutted your heart with food and wine,\nmay tell me where you are from and how many sorrows you have endured.\nSo speaking, the godlike swineherd led the way to the hut,\nand brought him in and seated him, and spread beneath him shaggy brushwood,\nand spread over it the hide of a shaggy wild goat,\na bed for him there, big and hairy. And Odysseus rejoiced\nthat he received him so, and spoke a word aloud and addressed him:\nMay Zeus give you, stranger, and the other immortal gods\nwhatever you most desire, since you received me with a ready heart.\nThen answering him you spoke, Eumaeus swineherd:\nStranger, it is not lawful for me, not even if a worse man than you came,\nto dishonor a stranger; for all strangers and beggars\nare from Zeus; and the gift is small yet dear\nwhen it comes from us; for that is the way of slaves\nwho always live in fear, when young masters hold power\nover them. For the gods have bound up his homecoming,\nwho would have loved me kindly and given me possessions,\na house and a plot of land and a much-courted wife,\nsuch things as a kind master gives to a slave of his\nwho has toiled much for him, and a god increases his work,\njust as this work is increased for me, on which I abide.\nSo my master would have greatly helped me, if he had grown old here;\nbut he perished — and would that the race of Helen had perished utterly,\nsince she loosened the knees of many men;\nfor he too went for the sake of Agamemnon's honor\nto Ilios of the good foals, to fight with the Trojans.\nSo speaking he quickly girded his tunic with a belt,\nand went to the sties, where the herds of swine were penned.\nFrom there he took and brought two, and sacrificed both,\nand singed them and cut them up and pierced them on spits.\nAnd when he had roasted them all, he brought them and set them before Odysseus\nhot, on the spits themselves; and he sprinkled white barley over them;\nand in an ivy-wood bowl he mixed honey-sweet wine,\nand he himself sat down opposite him, and urged him on and spoke:\nEat now, stranger, what is at hand for slaves,\nyoung pork; but the fat pigs the suitors eat,\nwith no thought of retribution in their hearts, nor any pity.\nThe blessed gods do not love reckless deeds,\nbut they honor justice and the righteous deeds of men.\nAnd even hostile and lawless men, who over the land\nof others raid, and Zeus grants them plunder,\nand they fill their ships and set out to return home,\neven on them a strong fear of retribution falls in their hearts.\nBut these men know something — they have heard some voice of a god,\nof that man's wretched destruction — since they do not wish to court her\nas is right, nor to go back to their own homes, but at their ease\nthey devour his possessions with violence, and there is no sparing.\nFor as many nights and days as come from Zeus,\nthey never sacrifice one victim, or two, I think;\nand they waste the wine, drawing it off with violence.\nFor his livelihood was beyond telling; no one\nof the hero-men had so much, neither on the dark mainland\nnor in Ithaca itself; not even twenty men together\nhave such wealth; and I will recount it to you.\nTwelve herds on the mainland; as many flocks of sheep,\nas many droves of swine, as many broad herds of goats\nare grazed by strangers and by his own herdsmen.\nAnd here eleven broad herds of goats, all of them,\nare grazed at the far edge, and good men watch over them.\nOf these each man brings in a beast every day,\nwhichever of the well-fed goats seems the best.\nBut I guard and watch over these swine,\nand choosing well I send off the best of the pigs for them.\nSo he spoke, and Odysseus ate the meat and drank the wine\ngreedily and in silence, and he was sowing evils for the suitors.\nBut when he had dined and fitted his heart with food,\nhe filled and gave him the cup from which he himself drank,\nfull of wine; and he took it, and rejoiced in his heart,\nand speaking to him he addressed him with winged words:\nMy friend, who then bought you with his own possessions,\nso very rich and powerful as you say?\nAnd you say he perished for the sake of Agamemnon's honor.\nTell me, in case I might somewhere know such a man.\nFor Zeus surely knows this, and the other immortal gods,\nwhether I might report having seen him; for I have wandered over many lands.\nThen the swineherd answered him, leader of men:\nOld man, no wandering man who came\nwith news would ever persuade his wife and dear son,\nbut vagabond men, in need of a living, lie\nat random, and have no wish to tell the truth.\nAnd whoever comes as a vagabond to the land of Ithaca,\nhe goes to my mistress and babbles deceitful things;\nand she, welcoming him well, loves him and questions him on every point,\nand as she mourns tears fall from her eyelids,\nas is the way of a woman, when her husband has perished elsewhere.\nQuickly you too, old man, could fashion a tale,\nif someone would give you a cloak and tunic and clothing.\nBut his dogs and swift birds are already about to\ntear the hide from his bones, and his spirit has left him;\nor the fish ate him in the wine-dark sea, and his bones\nlie on the mainland wrapped in deep sand.\nSo he has perished there, and sorrows for his friends\nfor all, and most of all for me, have been made ready; for no other\nso gentle a master shall I find, wherever I go,\nnot even if I come again to the house of my father and mother,\nwhere I was first born and they themselves raised me.\nAnd I no longer mourn for them so much, though I long\nto see them with my eyes while I am in my own land;\nbut longing for the departed Odysseus seizes me.\nHim, stranger, even in his absence I am ashamed\nto name; for he loved me exceedingly and cared for me in his heart;\nbut I call him my dear friend even though he is far away.\nThen much-enduring godlike Odysseus spoke to him:\nMy friend, since you utterly refuse, and no longer say\nthat he will come, and your heart is always distrustful;\nbut I will not speak idly, but with an oath,\nthat Odysseus is returning; and let there be a reward for my good news\nat once, when that man comes to his own house;\nthat you clothe me in cloak and tunic, good clothing;\nbut before that, though I need it much, I would take nothing.\nFor that man is as hateful to me as the gates of Hades,\nwho, yielding to poverty, babbles deceitful things.\nLet Zeus know it now, first of the gods, and the table of hospitality,\nand the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have come to;\ntruly all these things shall be accomplished as I say.\nIn this very year Odysseus will come here.\nAs this month wanes and the next begins,\nhe will return home, and he will punish whoever\nhere dishonors his wife and his shining son.\nThen answering him you spoke, Eumaeus swineherd:\nOld man, I will not pay this reward for good news,\nnor will Odysseus ever come home; but be at ease,\ndrink, and let us think of other things, and do not\nremind me of these things; for my heart in my breast\ngrieves whenever someone mentions my honored master.\nBut let us leave the oath aside, and may Odysseus\ncome as I wish him to, and Penelope,\nand old Laertes and godlike Telemachus.\nNow again I mourn for the boy whom Odysseus begot,\nTelemachus; when the gods had raised him like a sapling,\nand I said he would be in no way worse among men\nthan his own dear father, wondrous in build and in looks,\nsome one of the immortals has harmed the mind within him,\nor some man; and he went to hear news of his father\nto holy Pylos; and the lordly suitors\nlie in ambush for him as he comes home, so that the race\nof godlike Arceisius may perish nameless out of Ithaca.\nBut let us leave that matter, whether he is caught\nor escapes, and the son of Cronos holds his hand over him.\nBut come, old man, tell me your own sorrows\nand tell me this truly, so that I may know it well:\nWho of men are you, and from where? Where is your city and your parents?\nOn what kind of ship did you come? How did the sailors\nbring you to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be?\nFor I do not think you came here on foot.\nThen answering him spoke crafty Odysseus:\nTherefore I will tell you this quite exactly.\nWould that we two had food for a while\nand sweet wine, while we sit inside the hut,\nfeasting in silence, and others went about their work;\nthen easily, even for a whole year,\nI would not finish telling the sorrows of my heart,\nall the many things I have suffered by the will of the gods.\nI boast that I am by birth from broad Crete,\nthe son of a rich man; and many other sons\nwere raised and born in his hall,\nlegitimate, from his wife; but a bought mother bore me,\na concubine; but he honored me equally with his true-born sons,\nCastor son of Hylax, whose son I claim to be,\nwho then among the Cretans was honored like a god by the people\nfor his happiness and his wealth and his glorious sons.\nBut the fates of death came and bore him away\nto the house of Hades; and his high-hearted sons\ndivided the livelihood and cast lots for it,\nand they gave me very little and assigned me a house.\nAnd I married a wife from men of many possessions\nbecause of my own merit, since I was no worthless man\nnor one to shun war; but now all that has left me —\nyet even so, I think that looking at the stubble\nyou can recognize it; for great misery holds me.\nTruly Ares and Athena gave me courage\nand the power to break men through; when I chose the best men\nto go into ambush, sowing evils for the enemy,\nnever did my proud heart foresee death for me,\nbut leaping far the first I would take with my spear\nwhichever of the enemy gave way to me in running.\nSuch was I in war; and work was not dear to me,\nnor housekeeping, which raises glorious children,\nbut always ships with oars were dear to me,\nand wars, and well-polished spears and arrows,\ngrim things, which are chilling to other men.\nBut those things were dear to me which some god put in my heart;\nfor one man takes pleasure in one kind of work, another in another.\nFor before the sons of the Achaeans set foot on Troy\nnine times I led men and swift-sailing ships\nagainst foreign men, and it went very well with me.\nFrom these I chose out what pleased me, and much besides\nI got by lot; and quickly my house grew, and thereafter\nI was both feared and respected among the Cretans.\nBut when Zeus the wide-thundering devised that hateful journey\nwhich loosened the knees of many men,\nthen they ordered me and famous Idomeneus\nto lead the ships to Ilios; and there was no way\nto refuse, for the people's hard voice held us.\nThere for nine years we sons of the Achaeans fought,\nand in the tenth, when we had sacked the city of Priam, we went\nhome with our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans.\nBut for wretched me Zeus the counselor planned evils;\nfor only one month I stayed, delighting in my children\nand my wedded wife and my possessions; but then\nmy heart urged me to sail to Egypt,\nhaving fitted out ships well with godlike comrades.\nNine ships I fitted out, and the people gathered quickly.\nSix days then my trusty comrades\nfeasted; and I provided many victims\nto sacrifice to the gods and to prepare a feast for themselves.\nOn the seventh we embarked, and from broad Crete\nwe sailed with a fair strong north wind,\neasily, as if downstream; and none of my ships\nwas harmed, but unharmed and free of sickness\nwe sat, and wind and helmsmen steered them.\nOn the fifth day we reached Egypt of the fair river,\nand I anchored my curved ships in the Egyptian river.\nThere I ordered my trusty comrades\nto stay there by the ships and to guard them,\nand I sent lookouts to go to the watch-places;\nbut they, yielding to violence, following their own fury,\nquickly began to plunder the very beautiful fields of the Egyptian men,\nand carried off the women and the infant children,\nand killed the men; and quickly the war-cry reached the city.\nAnd they, hearing the shout at the appearing of dawn,\ncame; and the whole plain was filled with foot and horse\nand the flash of bronze; and among them Zeus who delights in thunder\ncast a cowardly rout on my comrades, and no one dared\nstand and face them; for evils stood about on every side.\nThere they killed many of us with sharp bronze,\nand led others away alive, to work for them by force.\nBut Zeus himself put this thought in my heart —\nand would that I had died and met my fate\nthere in Egypt; for yet another sorrow awaited me —\nat once I took the well-made helmet from my head,\nand the shield from my shoulders, and threw the spear out of my hand;\nand I went before the king's chariot,\nand grasped and kissed his knees; and he saved me and pitied me,\nand seated me in his chariot and brought me home as I shed tears.\nTruly many rushed at me with ash-wood spears,\nlonging to kill me — for they were very angry —\nbut he held them off, dreading the wrath of Zeus\ngod of strangers, who above all is angry at evil deeds.\nThere I stayed seven years, and I gathered much\nwealth among the Egyptian men; for they all gave to me.\nBut when the eighth year came around for me,\nthen a Phoenician man came, one skilled in deceit,\na cheat, who had done much evil to men;\nwho persuaded me with his wits and took me with him, until we came\nto Phoenicia, where his house and his possessions lay.\nThere I stayed with him for a full year.\nBut when the months and days were being completed\nas the year rolled round again and the seasons came,\nhe set me on a sea-crossing ship bound for Libya,\nplanning lies, so that I might carry cargo with him,\nand so that he might sell me there and get a vast price.\nI followed him onto the ship, though I suspected it, under compulsion.\nShe ran with a fair strong north wind,\nmidway over Crete; and Zeus was planning destruction for them.\nBut when we had left Crete, and no other land\nappeared, but only sky and sea,\nthen the son of Cronos set a dark blue cloud\nabove the hollow ship, and the sea grew murky beneath it.\nAnd Zeus thundered at once and hurled a thunderbolt at the ship;\nand she spun about entirely, struck by the bolt of Zeus,\nand was filled with brimstone; and all fell out of the ship.\nAnd they, like crows, about the black ship\nwere carried by the waves; and the god took away their homecoming.\nBut Zeus himself, though I had grief in my heart,\nput into my hands the irresistible mast of the dark-prowed ship,\nso that I might yet escape disaster.\nAnd clinging to it I was carried by the deadly winds.\nNine days I was carried, and on the tenth black night\na great rolling wave brought me near the land of the Thesprotians.\nThere Pheidon, king of the Thesprotians, took me in,\na hero, without ransom; for his dear son, coming upon me\novercome with cold and weariness, led me to his house,\nraising me by the hand, until we came to his father's house;\nand he clothed me in cloak and tunic and clothing.\nThere I heard about Odysseus; for he said\nthat he had entertained and befriended him as he was going to his own country,\nand he showed me the possessions Odysseus had gathered,\nbronze and gold and much-wrought iron.\nAnd he might still feed another to the tenth generation;\nso many treasures of the king lay in his halls.\nAnd he said he had gone to Dodona, so that from the god's\nhigh-leafed oak he might hear the counsel of Zeus,\nhow he should return to the rich land of Ithaca\nafter being away so long, openly or in secret.\nAnd he swore to me myself, pouring a libation in his house,\nthat a ship was drawn down and comrades were ready,\nwho would send him to his own dear country.\nBut he sent me away first; for a ship happened to be coming\nof Thesprotian men to Dulichium rich in wheat.\nThere he told them to send me to King Acastus\nkindly; but an evil plan pleased their hearts\nconcerning me, so that I might yet become a complete further grief of misery.\nBut when the sea-crossing ship had sailed far from land,\nat once they were plotting for me a day of slavery.\nThey stripped off my cloak and tunic and clothing,\nand threw around me another wretched rag and a tunic,\ntorn ones, which you yourself see with your own eyes;\nand in the evening they came to the land of clear-seen Ithaca.\nThere they bound me in the well-benched ship\nfirmly with a well-twisted rope, and they themselves, going ashore,\nhurriedly took their dinner beside the shore of the sea.\nBut the gods themselves loosened the bond for me\neasily; and wrapping the rag down over my head,\nI slid down the smooth keel-piece and put my chest to the sea,\nand then I rowed with both my hands,\nswimming, and very quickly I was outside and away from those men.\nThere I climbed up where there was a thicket of blossoming wood,\nand lay crouched down. And they, groaning greatly,\nwent to and fro; but since it did not seem better for them\nto seek further, they went back again\nonto the hollow ship; but the gods themselves hid me\neasily, and brought me and set me at the steading\nof a man who understands such things; for it was still my fate to live.\nThen answering him you spoke, Eumaeus swineherd:\nAh, wretched of strangers, you have greatly stirred my heart\nby telling each of these things, all you have suffered and wandered.\nBut I do not think these things are in order, nor will you persuade me\nby speaking about Odysseus; why must you, being such a man,\nlie to no purpose? And I myself know well\nthe homecoming of my master, how he was hateful to all the gods\nutterly, since the Trojans did not kill him\nnor he in the hands of his friends, when he had wound up the war.\nThen the Panachaeans would have made him a tomb,\nand he would have won great glory for his son afterwards;\nbut now the harpies snatched him away without glory.\nBut I stay apart with the swine; and I do not even go to the city,\nunless somewhere wise Penelope\nurges me to come, when news comes from somewhere.\nBut they sit beside her and ask about each thing,\nboth those who grieve for the master long gone,\nand those who rejoice, eating up his livelihood unpunished;\nbut it is not dear to me to inquire and ask,\nsince the time an Aetolian man deceived me with a story,\nwho, having killed a man, had wandered over much land,\nand came to my house; and I welcomed him warmly.\nAnd he said he had seen him among the Cretans at Idomeneus' side,\nrepairing the ships which the storms had shattered for him;\nand he said he would come either in summer or at harvest,\nbringing much wealth, with godlike comrades.\nAnd you, old man of many sorrows, since a god brought you to me,\ndo not gratify me with lies nor charm me at all;\nfor it is not for that reason that I will respect or love you,\nbut because I fear Zeus god of strangers and pity you yourself.\nThen answering him spoke crafty Odysseus:\nTruly your heart in your breast is very distrustful,\nsuch that even when I swear I have not moved you nor persuaded you.\nBut come now, let us make a compact; and hereafter\nlet the gods who hold Olympus be witnesses for us both.\nIf your master returns to this house,\nyou shall clothe me in cloak and tunic and send me\nto go to Dulichium, where it was dear to my heart;\nbut if your master does not come as I say,\nthen set your slaves on me and throw me from a great cliff,\nso that another beggar too may avoid deceiving.\nThen answering him the godlike swineherd addressed him:\nStranger, then good repute and virtue would be mine\namong men, both now and hereafter,\nif I, after bringing you to my hut and giving you hospitality,\nthen killed you and took your dear life;\nthen I would gladly pray to Zeus son of Cronos.\nBut now it is time for dinner; let my comrades quickly\nbe here, so that in the hut we may prepare a tasty dinner.\nSo they spoke such things to one another,\nand the swine came near, and the men, the swineherds.\nThese they penned to sleep in their accustomed places,\nand an unspeakable clamor arose from the swine being stabled;\nand the godlike swineherd called out to his comrades:\nBring the best of the swine, so that I may sacrifice it for the stranger\nfrom a far country; and we ourselves will profit, who have long\nendured suffering for the sake of the white-tusked swine;\nand others eat up our labor unpunished.\nSo speaking he split wood with the pitiless bronze,\nand they brought in a pig, very fat, five years old.\nThen they stood it at the hearth; and the swineherd\ndid not forget the immortals; for he had good sense;\nbut beginning the offering, he threw hairs from the head into the fire,\nof the white-tusked pig, and prayed to all the gods\nthat Odysseus the wise might return to his own home.\nHe raised and struck it with a billet of oak which he had left lying;\nand its life left it. And they cut its throat and singed it;\nquickly they cut it up; and the swineherd began to set aside the raw portions,\nbeginning with all the limbs, onto the rich fat,\nand sprinkling them with barley meal he threw them in the fire,\nand they cut up the rest and pierced them on spits,\nand roasted them carefully and drew them all off,\nand threw them together onto the platters; and the swineherd\nstood up to carve; for he knew what was right in his heart.\nAnd he divided it all into seven portions as he carved;\none portion he set apart for the nymphs and for Hermes, son of Maia,\nwith a prayer, and the others he gave to each man;\nand he honored Odysseus with the continuous chine\nof the white-tusked pig, and gladdened the heart of his master;\nand speaking to him crafty Odysseus said:\nMay you be as dear to father Zeus, Eumaeus,\nas you are to me, since you honor me, such as I am, with good things.\nThen answering him you spoke, Eumaeus swineherd:\nEat, strange stranger, and take pleasure in these things,\nsuch as are at hand; a god will give one thing and leave another,\nwhatever he wishes in his heart; for he can do all things.\nSo he spoke, and offered first-fruits to the ever-living gods,\nand when he had poured the flaming wine, he put it in the hands\nof Odysseus the sacker of cities; and he sat down beside his own portion.\nAnd Mesaulius served them bread, whom the swineherd\nhad acquired himself alone while his master was away,\napart from the mistress and old Laertes;\nhe had bought him from the Taphians with his own goods.\nAnd they put their hands to the ready food set before them.\nBut when they had put away their desire for drink and for food,\nMesaulius took away the bread, and they hurried to bed\nglutted with bread and meat.\nAnd a wicked moonless night came on, and Zeus rained\nall night long, and the great West Wind blew, always wet.\nAnd Odysseus spoke among them, testing the swineherd,\nwhether he might somehow take off his own cloak and give it, or urge\nanother of his comrades, since he cared for him exceedingly:\nHear me now, Eumaeus and all you other comrades,\nI will speak a word after a prayer; for wine bids me,\nfoolish wine, which sets even a wise man to sing,\nand makes him laugh softly, and sets him to dance,\nand makes him utter a word better left unspoken.\nBut since I have once cried out, I will not hide it.\nWould that I were young again and my strength were firm,\nas when we led the ambush we had set beneath Troy.\nOdysseus and Menelaus son of Atreus led it,\nand I was third leader with them; for they themselves asked me.\nBut when we came to the city and its steep wall,\nwe lay around the town, among the thick bushes,\nin the reeds and the marsh, crouched under our armor.\nAnd a wicked night came on, when the North Wind fell,\nfreezing; and over us snow fell like frost,\ncold, and ice formed on our shields.\nThere all the others had cloaks and tunics,\nand slept comfortably, wrapped in their shields over their shoulders;\nbut I, when going, had left my cloak to my comrades\nin my foolishness, since I did not think I would freeze anyway,\nbut followed with only my shield and a shining belt.\nBut when it was the third watch of the night, and the stars had passed on,\nthen I spoke to Odysseus, who was near,\nnudging him with my elbow; and he answered at once:\nZeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,\nI will no longer be among the living, but the winter\novercomes me; for I have no cloak; some god misled me\nto be single-tunicked; and now there is no escape.\nSo I spoke, and he then held this thought in his mind,\nsuch was he at planning and at fighting;\nand speaking in a low voice he said a word to me:\nBe silent now, lest some other of the Achaeans hear you.\nSo he spoke, and resting his head on his elbow he said a word:\nListen, friends; a divine dream came to me in my sleep.\nFor we have come too far from the ships; but would that someone\nwould tell Atreus' son Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,\nto urge more men to come from the ships.\nSo he spoke, and then Thoas sprang up, son of Andraemon,\nswiftly, and took off his purple cloak,\nand went running to the ships; and I, in his clothing,\nlay down gladly, and golden-throned Dawn shone.\nSo now would that I were young and my strength were firm;\nthen someone in the steading of the swineherds would give me a cloak,\nboth out of friendship and out of respect for a good man;\nbut now they dishonor me because I wear wretched clothes.\nThen answering him you spoke, Eumaeus swineherd:\nOld man, the tale you have told is blameless,\nand you have not yet spoken a profitless word beyond what is fitting;\nso you will lack neither clothing nor anything else\nof the things fitting for a much-suffering suppliant who has come;\nfor now; but at dawn you will shake out your rags.\nFor there are not many cloaks or changes of tunics\nto wear here, but only one for each man.\nBut when the dear son of Odysseus comes,\nhe himself will give you cloak and tunic and clothing,\nand will send you wherever your heart and spirit bid you.\nSo speaking he sprang up, and set for him near the fire\na bed, and threw over it hides of sheep and of goats.\nThere Odysseus lay down; and he threw over him a cloak\nthick and large, which he kept ready as a change,\nto wear whenever a terrible storm arose.\nSo Odysseus slept there, and beside him\nthe young men slept; but it did not please the swineherd\nto sleep there, away from the swine,\nbut he went outside and armed himself; and Odysseus rejoiced\nthat he cared for his livelihood though he was far away.\nFirst he slung a sharp sword about his sturdy shoulders,\nand wrapped around him a wind-proof cloak, very thick,\nand he took up the fleece of a great well-fed goat,\nand took a sharp spear, a defense against dogs and men.\nHe went to lie down where the white-tusked swine\nslept beneath a hollow rock, sheltered from the North Wind.\n\n### Book 15\n\nBut she went to spacious Lacedaemon, Pallas Athena,\nto remind the glorious son of great-hearted Odysseus\nof his homecoming, and to urge him to return.\nShe found Telemachus and the shining son of Nestor\nsleeping in the forecourt of glorious Menelaus,\nthe son of Nestor, indeed, overcome by soft sleep;\nbut sweet sleep did not hold Telemachus; in his heart\nthrough the immortal night the cares for his father woke him.\nStanding near, bright-eyed Athena spoke to him:\nTelemachus, no longer is it well to wander far from your house,\nleaving your possessions and such men in your halls\nso overbearing; lest they devour all your goods\ndividing them among themselves, and you come home on a fruitless journey.\nBut urge good at the war-cry Menelaus quickly\nto send you, so that you may still find your blameless mother at home.\nFor already her father and brothers bid her\nmarry Eurymachus; for he surpasses all\nthe suitors with gifts, and has increased his bridal presents;\nlest, against your will, some possession be carried from your halls.\nFor you know what manner of spirit is in a woman's breast;\nshe wishes to enrich the house of him she weds,\nbut of her former children and her beloved wedded husband\nwho has died, she no longer remembers nor inquires.\nBut do you go home and entrust each matter\nto whichever of the maids seems best to you,\nuntil the gods reveal to you a glorious bride.\nAnd another word I will speak to you; lay it to heart.\nThe best of the suitors lie in wait for you deliberately\nin the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos,\neager to kill you before you reach your native land.\nBut that I do not think; rather, the earth will first hold\nsome of the suitor men, who devour your livelihood.\nBut keep your well-built ship far from the islands,\nand sail alike by night; and one of the immortals will send a fair wind behind you,\nwhoever of the deathless ones guards and protects you.\nBut when you reach the first shore of Ithaca,\nsend the ship and all your comrades to the city,\nbut yourself go first of all to the swineherd,\nwho is keeper of your swine, and is kindly minded toward you.\nThere spend the night; and send him into the city\nto carry the message to wise Penelope,\nthat you are safe and have come back from Pylos.\nSo she spoke and departed to steep Olympus,\nbut he woke the son of Nestor from sweet sleep,\nstirring him with his foot, and spoke a word to him:\nWake, Pisistratus, son of Nestor; bring the single-hoofed horses\nand yoke them beneath the chariot, so that we may set out on our way.\nThen Pisistratus, son of Nestor, answered him:\nTelemachus, there is no way, eager as we are for the journey,\nto drive through the murky night; soon dawn will come.\nBut wait until the hero, son of Atreus, brings gifts and sets them in the chariot,\nMenelaus, famed for the spear,\nand with gentle words speaks kindly and sends you on your way.\nFor a guest remembers all his days\nthe man who was his host, if he shows him friendship.\nSo he spoke, and straightway golden-throned Dawn came.\nAnd good at the war-cry Menelaus came near them,\nrising from his bed, beside fair-haired Helen.\nWhen the dear son of Odysseus noticed him,\nhastening, he drew a shining tunic about his skin,\nand cast a great cloak over his sturdy shoulders,\nthe hero, and went out, and standing beside him spoke\nTelemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus:\nMenelaus, son of Atreus, nurtured by Zeus, leader of hosts,\nsend me now to my dear native land;\nfor my heart already longs to reach home.\nThen good at the war-cry Menelaus answered him:\nTelemachus, I will not hold you here a long time\nwhen you long for home; and I blame any other man too\nwho is a host, if he loves a guest exceedingly\nand hates him exceedingly; better are all things in due measure.\nIt is an equal wrong, whether one urges a guest to go who does not wish it,\nor holds back one who is eager.\nOne must love a guest while present, and send him on when he wishes.\nBut wait until I bring gifts and set them in the chariot,\nfair ones, and you see them with your eyes, and I tell the women\nto prepare a meal in the halls, with plenty there within.\nBoth glory and splendor and profit it is\nto journey over the wide boundless earth after dining.\nBut if you wish to turn aside through Hellas and midmost Argos,\nso that I myself may go with you, and yoke the horses for you,\nand guide you to the cities of men; no one will send us\naway empty, but each will give us something to carry off,\neither some well-bronzed tripod or a cauldron,\nor two mules, or a golden cup.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nMenelaus, son of Atreus, nurtured by Zeus, leader of hosts,\nI wish now to go to my own home; for I left no\nguardian behind over my possessions when I set out;\nlest, seeking my godlike father, I myself perish,\nor some good treasure be lost from my halls.\nWhen good at the war-cry Menelaus heard this,\nhe straightway ordered his wife and the maids\nto prepare a meal in the halls, with plenty there within.\nEteoneus, son of Boethous, came near him,\nrising from his bed, for he lived not far from him;\ngood at the war-cry Menelaus ordered him to light a fire\nand roast meat; and he did not disobey when he heard.\nAnd he himself went down into the fragrant storeroom,\nnot alone, but Helen and Megapenthes went with him.\nBut when they came where the treasures lay,\nthe son of Atreus took a two-handled cup,\nand ordered his son Megapenthes to carry a mixing bowl\nof silver; and Helen stood beside the chests,\nwhere were the richly embroidered robes that she herself had made.\nLifting one of them, Helen, shining among women, carried it,\nthe one that was fairest in embroidery and largest,\nand it shone like a star; it lay lowest of the others.\nThey went forward through the house until they came\nto Telemachus; and fair-haired Menelaus spoke to him:\nTelemachus, as for your return, as your heart desires it,\nso may Zeus fulfill it, loud-thundering husband of Hera.\nAnd of the gifts, all the treasures that lie in my house,\nI will give the one that is fairest and most honored.\nI will give you a well-wrought mixing bowl; it is all of silver,\nand its lips are inlaid with gold,\nthe work of Hephaestus; the shining hero gave it to me,\nking of the Sidonians, when his house sheltered me\nthere as I journeyed home; and I wish to give it to you.\nSo speaking, he placed in his hand the two-handled cup,\nthe hero son of Atreus; and mighty Megapenthes brought and set\nthe shining mixing bowl before him,\nof silver; and fair-cheeked Helen stood beside him\nholding the robe in her hands, and spoke a word and named him:\nThis gift I too give you, dear child,\na remembrance of Helen's hands, for the hour of your much-desired marriage,\nfor your wife to wear; until then, let it lie in the hall\nbeside your dear mother. And may you come rejoicing\nto your well-built house and your native land.\nSo she spoke and placed it in his hands, and he received it rejoicing.\nAnd the hero Pisistratus placed these things in the basket\nhaving received them, and marveled at them all in his heart;\nand fair-haired Menelaus led them to the house.\nThen they sat down on the couches and the chairs.\nA handmaid brought water for washing and poured it from a pitcher,\na fair golden one, over a silver basin,\nfor them to wash; and she set beside them a polished table.\nAnd the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread;\nputting many foods before them, giving freely of what was there;\nand the son of Boethous carved the meat and distributed the portions;\nand the son of glorious Menelaus poured the wine.\nAnd they put forth their hands to the ready food set before them.\nBut when they had put away the desire for drink and food,\nthen Telemachus and the shining son of Nestor\nyoked the horses and mounted the inlaid chariot,\nand drove out through the gateway and the echoing portico.\nAnd fair-haired Menelaus, son of Atreus, followed them,\nholding in his right hand honey-hearted wine,\nin a golden cup, so that they might pour a libation and go.\nHe stood before the horses and spoke, greeting them:\nFarewell, young men, and to Nestor, shepherd of hosts,\ngive my word; for he was as kind to me as a father,\nwhile we sons of the Achaeans warred in Troy.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nYes indeed, nurtured by Zeus, all this as you say\nwe will recount when we come to him; and would that I,\nreturning to Ithaca and finding Odysseus in his house,\nmight tell him how I come from you having met with all friendship\nand bring many good treasures.\nAs he spoke, a bird flew on the right,\nan eagle carrying in its talons a huge white goose,\na tame one from the yard; and the men and women followed shouting,\nand coming near them\nit swooped to the right before the horses; and they, seeing it,\nrejoiced, and the spirit in all their breasts was warmed.\nAnd Pisistratus, son of Nestor, began to speak among them:\nConsider, Menelaus, nurtured by Zeus, leader of hosts,\nwhether a god has shown this sign to us two or to you yourself.\nSo he spoke, and Menelaus, dear to Ares, pondered\nhow he might answer him fittingly, thinking it over.\nBut long-robed Helen spoke first and answered him:\nHear me; and I will prophesy, as the immortals put it in my heart\nand as I think it will be fulfilled.\nAs this eagle snatched the goose that was reared in the house,\ncoming from the mountain, where is his race and his birth,\nso Odysseus, having suffered many evils and wandered much,\nwill come home and take vengeance; or even now\nhe is at home, and is planting evil for all the suitors.\nThen wise Telemachus answered her:\nSo may Zeus bring it about, loud-thundering husband of Hera;\nthen I would pray to you even there as to a god.\nHe spoke, and laid the whip on the horses; and they very swiftly\nrushed eagerly through the city toward the plain.\nAll day long they shook the yoke they held about them.\nThe sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;\nand they came to Pherae, to the house of Diocles,\nson of Ortilochus, whom the Alpheus fathered.\nThere they spent the night, and he set guest-gifts before them.\nWhen early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthey yoked the horses and mounted the inlaid chariot,\nand drove out through the gateway and the echoing portico;\nhe struck them to drive, and the two flew not unwillingly.\nAnd soon they reached the steep citadel of Pylos;\nand then Telemachus spoke to the son of Nestor:\nSon of Nestor, how would you promise me and fulfill\nmy word? For we boast to be guest-friends continually\nfrom the friendship of our fathers, and we are of like age;\nand this journey will bring us even more to one mind.\nDo not drive past the ship with me, nurtured by Zeus, but leave me here,\nlest the old man hold me back against my will in his house,\neager to show me love; but I must come home sooner.\nSo he spoke, and the son of Nestor considered in his heart\nhow he might promise and fulfill it fittingly.\nAnd as he thought, it seemed to him better\nto turn the horses toward the swift ship and the shore of the sea,\nand at the ship's stern he unloaded the beautiful gifts,\nclothing and gold, which Menelaus had given him;\nand urging him on he spoke winged words:\nGo aboard now in haste and order all your comrades,\nbefore I reach home and tell the old man.\nFor I know this well in my mind and heart:\nso violent is his spirit, he will not let you go,\nbut he will come here himself to call you, and I say he will not\ngo back empty; for he will be very angry indeed.\nSo speaking, he drove the fair-maned horses\nback to the city of the Pylians, and quickly reached the house.\nAnd Telemachus urged on his comrades and ordered them:\nArrange the gear, comrades, in the black ship,\nand let us go aboard ourselves, so that we may set out on our way.\nSo he spoke, and they listened well and obeyed,\nand quickly went aboard and sat at the benches.\nHe busied himself with these things and prayed, and sacrificed to Athena\nbeside the ship's stern; and near him came a man\nfrom a far country, fleeing from Argos after killing a man,\na seer; and by birth he was a descendant of Melampus,\nwho once in time past dwelt in Pylos, mother of flocks,\nwealthy, dwelling in a house far surpassing the Pylians';\nbut then he came to the land of other men, fleeing his homeland\nand great-hearted Neleus, most illustrious of living men,\nwho kept much of his wealth for a full year\nby force. But he meanwhile, in the halls of Phylacus,\nwas bound in painful bonds, suffering cruel pains\nbecause of the daughter of Neleus and a heavy calamity,\nwhich the dread Fury, the goddess, laid upon his mind.\nBut he escaped death and drove the loud-bellowing cattle\nto Pylos from Phylace, and took vengeance for the shameful deed\non godlike Neleus, and brought the woman as wife to his brother's\nhouse. And he came to the land of other men,\nto horse-pasturing Argos; for there it was fated for him\nto dwell, ruling over many Argives.\nThere he married a wife and built a high-roofed house,\nand begot Antiphates and Mantius, two mighty sons.\nAntiphates begot great-hearted Oicles,\nand Oicles begot Amphiaraus, rouser of hosts,\nwhom aegis-bearing Zeus and Apollo loved with all their heart\nin every kind of friendship; he did not reach the threshold of old age,\nbut perished in Thebes because of a woman's gifts.\nHis sons were Alcmaeon and Amphilochus.\nMantius in turn begot Polypheides and Cleitus;\nbut golden-throned Dawn snatched Cleitus away\nbecause of his beauty, that he might be among the immortals;\nand Apollo made haughty Polypheides a seer,\nby far the best of mortals, when Amphiaraus died;\nwho moved away to Hyperesia in anger at his father,\nand there, dwelling, he prophesied for all mortals.\nHis son came there, and his name was Theoclymenus,\nwho then stood near Telemachus; and he found him\npouring libations and praying beside the swift black ship,\nand speaking, he addressed him with winged words:\nDear friend, since I find you sacrificing in this place,\nI beseech you by the offerings and the god, and then\nby your own head and the comrades who follow you,\ntell me truly when I ask, and do not conceal it:\nWho are you among men, and from where? Where is your city and your parents?\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nThen I will tell you, stranger, quite exactly.\nBy birth I am from Ithaca, and my father is Odysseus,\nif he ever was; but now he has perished by a wretched doom.\nTherefore I now took comrades and a black ship\nand came to ask about my father, long gone away.\nThen godlike Theoclymenus spoke to him:\nSo I too am from my homeland, having killed a man\nof my own kin; and many brothers and kinsmen\nare throughout horse-pasturing Argos, and they have great power among the Achaeans.\nAvoiding death and black doom from them\nI am a fugitive, since it is my fate to wander among men.\nBut take me on your ship, since I have fled to you as a suppliant,\nlest they kill me; for I think they are pursuing me.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nNo indeed, I will not thrust you from my well-balanced ship against your will,\nbut follow; and there you will be welcomed with whatever we have.\nSo speaking, he received from him the bronze spear,\nand laid it out on the deck of the curved ship;\nand he himself went aboard the sea-crossing ship.\nThen he sat down at the stern, and beside him\nhe seated Theoclymenus; and they loosed the stern cables.\nAnd Telemachus urged on his comrades and ordered them\nto lay hold of the gear; and they obeyed eagerly.\nThey raised the pine mast and set it in the hollow mast-box,\nand made it fast with the fore-stays,\nand hauled up the white sails with well-twisted oxhide ropes.\nBright-eyed Athena sent them a favorable wind,\nblowing fiercely through the sky, so that most swiftly\nthe ship might run through the salt water of the sea.\nThey passed by Cruni and fair-streamed Chalcis.\nThe sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;\nand the ship came to Pheae, driven on by the wind of Zeus,\nand past shining Elis, where the Epeians hold sway.\nFrom there he sped on toward the swift islands,\npondering whether he might escape death or be caught.\nMeanwhile in the hut Odysseus and the godlike swineherd\nwere eating supper; and other men supped beside them.\nBut when they had put away the desire for drink and food,\nOdysseus spoke among them, testing the swineherd,\nwhether he would still lovingly entertain him and bid him stay\nthere at his farmstead, or urge him toward the city:\nHear me now, Eumaeus, and all you other comrades;\nat dawn I wish to go to the city\nto beg, so that I may not wear you and your comrades out.\nBut advise me well and give me a good guide\nwho will lead me there; and through the city I myself of necessity\nwill wander, in case someone offers me a cup and a bit of bread.\nAnd if I go to the house of godlike Odysseus,\nI could bring a message to wise Penelope,\nand I could mix with the arrogant suitors,\nif they would give me a meal, since they have countless dishes.\nI could quickly do well among them whatever they wish.\nFor I will tell you plainly; mark it, and listen to me:\nby the grace of Hermes the guide, who to all\nmen gives grace and glory in their works,\nno other mortal could rival me in service,\nto pile a fire well and split dry wood,\nto carve and roast and pour wine,\nthe sort of things that lesser men do in service to their betters.\nThen, greatly vexed, you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nOh, stranger, why is this thought in your mind?\nDo you really long to perish right there?\nIf you wish to go down into the crowd of the suitors,\nwhose arrogance and violence reach the iron sky,\ntheir attendants are not men like you,\nbut young men, well dressed in cloaks and tunics,\nalways sleek about the head and with handsome faces,\nwho serve them; and well-polished tables\nare heavy with bread and meat and wine.\nBut stay; for no one is vexed at your presence,\nneither I nor any other of the comrades I have.\nBut when the dear son of Odysseus comes,\nhe will clothe you in cloak and tunic and garments,\nand send you wherever your heart and spirit bid you.\nThen much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:\nAh, Eumaeus, may you be as dear to father Zeus\nas you are to me, since you have stopped my wandering and dreadful misery.\nThere is nothing worse for mortals than wandering;\nbut because of the accursed belly men have evil cares,\nwhenever wandering and misery and pain come upon a man.\nBut now, since you insist that I stay and bid me wait for him,\ncome, tell me about the mother of godlike Odysseus\nand his father, whom he left when he set out at the threshold of old age,\nwhether they are still alive under the rays of the sun,\nor are already dead and in the halls of Hades.\nThen the swineherd, leader of men, answered him:\nThen I will tell you, stranger, quite exactly.\nLaertes is still alive, and he always prays to Zeus\nthat his spirit may waste from his limbs in his own halls;\nfor he grieves terribly for the son who has gone,\nand for his wedded wife, a wise woman, who above all\npained him by dying and left him in harsh old age.\nAnd she died of grief for her glorious son,\na wretched death; may no one who is dear to me\nand lives here and does me kindness die in that way.\nSo long as she lived, grieving as she was,\nit was dear to me to inquire and ask about her,\nbecause she herself raised me along with long-robed Ctimene,\nher noble daughter, the youngest child she bore;\nI was raised with her, and she honored me only a little less.\nBut when we both reached delightful youth,\nthey gave her then to a man in Same and took countless gifts,\nand she, clothing me fairly in cloak and tunic and garments,\nand giving me sandals for my feet,\nsent me to the fields; and she loved me the more from her heart.\nBut now I am in need of these things; yet the blessed gods\nprosper the work I devote myself to;\nfrom it I have eaten and drunk and given to worthy men.\nBut from my mistress it is not possible to hear a gentle\nword or deed, since evil has fallen on the house,\nthose arrogant men; and the slaves greatly lack the chance\nto speak in the mistress's presence and learn all things\nand eat and drink, and then carry something\nto the fields, the sort of things that always warm a slave's heart.\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nAlas, how then, while still a small child, Eumaeus the swineherd,\nyou were driven far from your homeland and your parents.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it exactly,\nwhether the broad-streeted city of men was sacked,\nin which your father and your honored mother dwelt,\nor whether, when you were alone among the sheep or the cattle,\nhostile men took you with their ships and sold you,\nto this man's house, and he paid a worthy price.\nThen the swineherd, leader of men, answered him:\nStranger, since you ask me these things and inquire,\nnow listen in silence and enjoy yourself, and drink your wine\nsitting here. For these nights are endless; there is time to sleep,\nand time to listen with pleasure; there is no need for you\nto lie down before the hour; too much sleep is a nuisance.\nWhichever of the others his heart and spirit bid,\nlet him go out and sleep; and at dawn when it appears,\nlet him eat and follow the master's pigs.\nBut let us two, drinking and feasting in the hut,\ntake pleasure in each other's wretched sorrows,\nremembering them; for a man takes pleasure even in his griefs,\nwhoever has suffered very much and wandered much.\nAnd this I will tell you, what you ask me and inquire about.\nThere is an island called Syrie, if perhaps you have heard of it,\nabove Ortygia, where the sun turns;\nit is not very populous, but it is good,\ngood for grazing, good for flocks, full of wine, rich in wheat.\nHunger never comes on the people, nor is any other\nhateful sickness ever upon the wretched mortals;\nbut when the tribes of men grow old in the city,\nsilver-bowed Apollo comes with Artemis\nand, attacking with his gentle arrows, kills them.\nThere are two cities, and all things are divided between them;\nand over both of them my father was king,\nCtesius, son of Ormenus, like the immortals.\nThere came Phoenician men, famous for their ships,\ngreedy traders, bringing countless trinkets in a black ship.\nThere was a Phoenician woman in my father's house,\ntall and beautiful, and skilled in splendid work;\nand the Phoenicians, full of tricks, seduced her.\nOne of them first lay with her beside the hollow ship\nin bed and in love, the things that beguile the minds\nof women, even if one is good at her work.\nThen he asked who she was and from where she had come;\nand she at once told him of her father's high-roofed house:\nI claim to be from Sidon, rich in bronze,\nand I am the daughter of Arybas, abundantly wealthy;\nbut Taphian raiders seized me\nas I was coming from the fields, and they brought me here and sold me\nto this man's house; and he paid a worthy price.\nThen the man who had lain with her in secret said to her:\nWould you now come back home again with us,\nso that you may see your father's and mother's high-roofed house\nand them too? For they are still alive and are called wealthy.\nThen the woman answered him and said:\nThat could be, sailors, if you would be willing\nto bind yourselves by oath to take me home unharmed.\nSo she spoke, and they all swore as she asked.\nBut when they had sworn and completed the oath,\nthe woman spoke among them again and said:\nNow keep silent; let none of your comrades speak to me\nwith words, whether met in the street\nor at the spring; lest someone come to the old man's house\nand tell him, and he, suspecting, bind me\nin painful bonds and plot destruction for you.\nBut keep the word in mind, and hurry on the price of the goods.\nBut when the ship is full of goods,\nlet a message quickly come to me at the house;\nfor I will bring gold too, whatever comes into my hands;\nand I would willingly give other passage-money too.\nFor I am raising in the halls the son of a good man,\na clever one indeed, who runs about outside with me;\nI could bring him onto the ship, and he would fetch you a huge price\nwherever you sell him among men of other tongues.\nSo she spoke and went off to the fine house,\nand they, staying there with us a whole year,\ntrafficked much goods in the hollow ship.\nBut when the hollow ship was loaded for them to sail,\nthen they sent a messenger, to tell the woman.\nA man skilled in many things came to my father's house\ncarrying a golden necklace, strung with amber beads.\nIn the hall the maids and my honored mother\nhandled it with their hands and looked at it with their eyes,\noffering a price; and he nodded to her in silence.\nHe, having nodded, had gone to the hollow ship,\nand she took me by the hand and led me out of the house.\nIn the forecourt she found both cups and tables\nof the feasting men, who were attending my father.\nThey had gone to the council seat and the assembly of the people,\nbut she quickly hid three cups in her bosom\nand carried them out; and I followed in my witlessness.\nThe sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;\nand we came quickly to the famous harbor,\nwhere the swift ship of the Phoenician men was.\nThen they went aboard and sailed the watery paths,\ntaking us two aboard; and Zeus sent a fair wind.\nSix days alike we sailed, nights and days;\nbut when Zeus, son of Cronos, brought on the seventh day,\nthen Artemis the arrow-pourer struck the woman,\nand she fell with a thud into the bilge, like a sea gull.\nAnd they threw her overboard to become prey for seals and fish;\nbut I was left with a grieving heart;\nand wind and water carried them on and brought them near Ithaca,\nwhere Laertes bought me with his own goods.\nThat is how I came to see this land with my own eyes.\nThen god-born Odysseus answered him and said:\nEumaeus, truly you have stirred the spirit in my heart\nby telling me all these things, all the griefs you have suffered in your heart.\nBut Zeus has set good alongside evil for you,\nsince after much toil you came to the house of a kind man\nwho provides you food and drink\nkindly, and you live a good life; but I\nhave come here wandering over many cities of men.\nSo they spoke such things to one another,\nand lay down to sleep for no long time, but only briefly;\nfor soon fair-throned Dawn came. And the comrades of Telemachus on the land\nloosed the sails and took down the mast\nquickly, and rowed the ship into the mooring;\nthey threw out the anchor stones and made the stern cables fast;\nand they themselves went out onto the breaking surf of the sea,\nand prepared a meal and mixed the flaming wine.\nBut when they had put away the desire for drink and food,\nwise Telemachus began to speak among them:\nYou now drive the black ship to the city,\nbut I will go to the fields and the herdsmen;\nin the evening I will come down to the city after seeing my farm.\nAnd at dawn I will set out provisions for your journey,\na good feast of meat and sweet wine.\nThen godlike Theoclymenus said to him:\nWhere shall I go, dear child? Whose house shall I come to,\nof the men who rule over rocky Ithaca?\nShall I go straight to your mother and your house?\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nIn other circumstances I would bid you come\nto our house; for there is no lack of hospitality; but for you yourself it is\nworse, since I will be away, and my mother\nwill not see you; for she does not often\nappear among the suitors in the house, but apart from them she weaves her web in the upper room.\nBut I will point out another man for you to go to,\nEurymachus, the shining son of wise Polybus,\nwhom the Ithacans now look upon as equal to a god;\nfor he is by far the best man, and he is most eager\nto marry my mother and to have the honor of Odysseus.\nBut Olympian Zeus knows these things, who dwells in the upper air,\nwhether he will bring a day of evil on them before the marriage.\nAs he spoke, a bird flew on the right,\na hawk, the swift messenger of Apollo; in its talons\nit was plucking a dove, and it shed the feathers to the ground\nbetween the ship and Telemachus himself.\nTheoclymenus called him aside from his comrades\nand clasped his hand and spoke a word and named him:\nTelemachus, that bird did not fly on the right without a god;\nfor I knew it was an omen when I looked at it face to face.\nThere is no other family more royal than yours\nin the land of Ithaca, but you are always strong.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nIf only, stranger, this word were fulfilled;\nthen you would soon know friendship and many gifts\nfrom me, so that anyone meeting you would call you blessed.\nHe spoke, and called to Piraeus, his trusty comrade:\nPiraeus, son of Clytius, you who above all\nmy comrades who followed me to Pylos obey me in other things;\nnow too take this stranger and in your house\nentertain him kindly and honor him, until I come.\nThen Piraeus, famed for the spear, answered him:\nTelemachus, even if you stayed here a long time,\nI would care for this man, and he will have no lack of hospitality.\nSo saying, he went aboard the ship and told his comrades\nto go aboard themselves and loose the stern cables.\nAnd they quickly went aboard and sat down at the benches.\nAnd Telemachus bound fair sandals under his feet,\nand took a stout spear, sharpened with keen bronze,\nfrom the ship's deck; and they loosed the stern cables.\nThey pushed off and sailed toward the city, as Telemachus had ordered,\nthe dear son of godlike Odysseus;\nand his feet carried him swiftly striding on until he reached the farmyard,\nwhere the swineherd,\na good man, dwelt, kindly minded toward his masters.\n\n### Book 16\n\nSo in the hut Odysseus and the noble swineherd\nmade ready their breakfast at the rising of dawn, having kindled a fire,\nand sent out the herdsmen with the gathered herds of swine.\nBut the dogs, loud-baying, fawned about Telemachus,\nnor barked at him as he came near. And noble Odysseus marked\nhow the dogs fawned, and the sound of feet came to him.\nStraightway he spoke winged words to Eumaeus:\nEumaeus, surely some comrade of yours comes hither,\nor some other man well known to you, since the dogs bark not,\nbut fawn about him; and I hear the thunder of feet beneath.\nNot yet was the whole word spoken, when his own dear son\nstood in the doorway. Amazed, the swineherd sprang up,\nand from his hands fell the vessels wherewith he labored,\nas he mixed the fiery wine. And he went to meet his master,\nand kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes\nand both his hands; and a warm tear fell from him.\nAs a father with loving heart welcomes his own dear son\nwho comes in the tenth year from a land afar,\nan only son, late-born, for whom he has toiled through many griefs,\nso then the noble swineherd kissed godlike Telemachus\nall over, clinging close, as one escaped from death;\nand lamenting he spoke winged words:\nYou have come, Telemachus, sweet light. No longer did I think\nto see you again, since you went in the ship to Pylos.\nBut come now, enter, dear child, so that in my heart\nI may take delight in gazing on you, newly come from elsewhere.\nFor you come not often to the field, nor to the herdsmen,\nbut you abide in the town; so it has pleased your heart,\nto behold the baleful throng of the wooing men.\nThen Telemachus the wise answered him and said:\nSo shall it be, good sir; for your sake I am come hither,\nthat with my eyes I may see you and hear your speech,\nwhether my mother still waits in the halls for me, or whether already\nsome other man has wed her, and the bed of Odysseus\nlies empty of coverlets, holding foul cobwebs.\nThen the swineherd, leader of men, answered him again:\nTruly she still waits with an enduring heart\nin your halls; and her woeful nights and days ever\nwaste away, as she sheds her tears.\nSo he spoke, and took from him the bronze spear;\nand he went within and crossed over the stone threshold.\nAs he came on, his father Odysseus gave way from the seat;\nbut Telemachus from the other side stayed him and spoke:\nSit, stranger; we shall find us a seat elsewhere\nin our own steading; and here is a man to set it out.\nSo he spoke, and he went back and sat down; and the swineherd\nstrewed beneath him green brushwood and a fleece above;\nthere then sat the dear son of Odysseus.\nAnd to them the swineherd set out platters of flesh\nroasted, which they had left behind on the day before when they ate,\nand eagerly he heaped up bread in baskets,\nand in an ivy-wood bowl he mixed the honey-sweet wine;\nand he himself sat down facing godlike Odysseus.\nAnd they stretched out their hands to the ready food lying before them.\nBut when they had put away the desire of drink and of food,\nthen Telemachus spoke to the noble swineherd:\nFather, whence came this stranger to you? And how did sailors\nbring him to Ithaca? Who did they boast themselves to be?\nFor in no wise do I think he came hither on foot.\nAnswering him, you spoke, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nThen verily I will tell you all the truth, my child.\nFrom broad Crete he boasts his lineage; and he says\nthat he has wandered over many cities of mortals,\nroaming; for so some god spun it for him.\nAnd now, escaped from a ship of Thesprotian men,\nhe has come to my steading, and I will hand him over to you;\ndo as you will; and he declares himself your suppliant.\nThen Telemachus the wise answered him and said:\nEumaeus, surely you have spoken a heart-grieving word.\nFor how shall I receive this stranger in my house?\nI myself am young, and my hands are not yet trusted\nto beat off a man when one provokes me first.\nAnd my mother's heart in her breast ponders two ways:\nwhether she abides here with me and tends the house,\nhonoring the bed of her husband and the people's voice,\nor whether she already follows whoever of the Achaeans is best\nand woos her in the halls and offers the most.\nBut this stranger, since he has come to your house,\nI will clothe in cloak and tunic, goodly garments,\nand I will give him a two-edged sword and sandals for his feet,\nand send him wherever his heart and spirit bid.\nBut if you wish it, keep him, holding him fast in the steading;\nand I will send garments hither and all his food\nto eat, so that he wear not you out nor your comrades.\nBut I would not let him go thither among the suitors;\nfor they hold outrage beyond all measure.\nLest they mock him, and dread grief be mine.\nAnd hard it is to accomplish anything among more men,\na man even though mighty, since they are far the stronger.\nThen much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:\nO friend, since it is right for me too to answer,\ntruly my dear heart is rent within me as I hear\nhow you say the suitors devise reckless deeds\nin the halls, against your will, though you are such a man.\nTell me, do you yield to them willingly, or do the people\nhate you throughout the land, following the voice of some god,\nor do you find fault with your brothers, on whom a man\nrelies when they do battle, even if a great quarrel arises?\nWould that I were so young, with the spirit I bear,\neither a son of blameless Odysseus, or Odysseus himself.\nThen at once let a stranger cut the head from me,\nif I did not become a bane to all those men,\ncoming into the hall of Odysseus, son of Laertes.\nBut if they should overcome me with their numbers, being one alone,\nI would rather, slain amid my own halls,\nlie dead, than ever behold these shameful deeds:\nstrangers roughly handled, and handmaids\ndragged shamefully through the fair halls,\nand the wine wasted, and the food devoured\nin vain, idly, for a work that has no end.\nThen Telemachus the wise answered him and said:\nThen verily, stranger, I will tell you quite exactly.\nNo, the whole people is not wrathful with me in hatred,\nnor do I find fault with my brothers, on whom a man\nrelies when they do battle, even if a great quarrel arises.\nFor thus the son of Cronos made our race to be single:\nLaertes only did Arceisius beget as a son,\nand Laertes again begot Odysseus only; but Odysseus\nbegot only me in the halls and left me, and had no joy of me.\nTherefore countless foes are now within my house.\nFor as many as are lords over the islands,\nDulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus,\nand as many as hold sway over rocky Ithaca,\nso many woo my mother, and waste my house.\nAnd she neither refuses the hateful marriage, nor is able\nto bring it to an end; and they wear away my house\nas they feast; and soon they will tear me to pieces too.\nBut verily these things lie on the knees of the gods.\nFather, do you go swiftly, and to wise Penelope\nsay that I am safe and have come back from Pylos.\nBut I will wait here; and do you come back hither,\nhaving told her alone; and of the other Achaeans let no one\nlearn of it; for many devise evils against me.\nAnswering him, you spoke, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nI know, I understand; you bid one who gives heed.\nBut come, tell me this too and recount it exactly:\nshall I go to Laertes as a messenger on that same road,\nthe unhappy man, who till now, grieving greatly for Odysseus,\nused to oversee the work, and among the servants in the house\ndrank and ate, whenever the spirit in his breast bade him;\nbut now, ever since you went in the ship to Pylos,\nthey say he has not eaten and drunk as before,\nnor looked to the work, but with groaning and wailing\nhe sits lamenting, and the flesh wastes from about his bones.\nThen Telemachus the wise answered him and said:\nSorer it is; yet let us leave him, grieving though we be.\nFor if mortals could choose all things for themselves,\nwe would first choose the day of my father's homecoming.\nBut do you go back with the message, and do not through the fields\nwander after him; but bid the housekeeper\nto tell my mother as quickly as may be,\nin secret; for she it is who could tell the old man.\nSo he spoke, and roused the swineherd; and he took sandals in his hands,\nbound them beneath his feet, and went to the city. Nor did Athena\nfail to mark Eumaeus the swineherd going from the steading,\nbut she came near; and in form she was like a woman,\nbeautiful and tall and skilled in glorious handiwork.\nShe stood at the doorway of the hut, shown to Odysseus;\nand Telemachus saw her not face to face nor marked her,\nfor in no wise do the gods appear manifest to all.\nBut Odysseus and the dogs saw her, and they barked not,\nbut with a whimper they fled the other way through the steading.\nAnd she nodded with her brows; and noble Odysseus marked it,\nand went out of the hut past the great wall of the courtyard,\nand stood before her; and Athena spoke to him:\nZeus-born son of Laertes, much-devising Odysseus,\nnow at once speak to your son and hide it not,\nso that the two of you, devising death and doom for the suitors,\nmay go to the far-famed city; and I myself\nwill not be long from you two, eager for the fight.\nSo she spoke, and touched him with a golden wand, Athena.\nFirst she put about his chest a well-washed cloak\nand tunic, and increased his stature and his youth.\nAnd he became dark again of skin, and his jaws were widened,\nand dark the beard grew about his chin.\nSo she, having done this, went back; and Odysseus\nwent into the hut; and his dear son marvelled at him,\nand in fear cast his eyes aside, lest it be a god,\nand speaking to him he spoke winged words:\nOther than before you appear to me now, stranger,\nand you wear other garments, and your skin is no longer the same.\nSurely you are some god, one of those who hold the wide heaven.\nBut be gracious, that we may give you acceptable sacrifices\nand wrought golden gifts; and spare us.\nThen much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:\nNo god am I; why do you liken me to the immortals?\nBut I am your own father, for whose sake you groan\nand suffer many griefs, enduring the violence of men.\nSo he spoke, and kissed his son, and down his cheeks\nhe let a tear fall to the ground; before, he ever held it back.\nBut Telemachus, for he did not yet believe he was his father,\nagain answered him with words and said:\nYou are not Odysseus, my father, but some god\nbewitches me, so that I may lament and groan the more.\nFor in no way could a mortal man devise these things\nwith his own mind, unless a god himself came upon him\nand easily, at his will, made him young or old.\nFor verily just now you were an old man and wore shameful clothes;\nbut now you are like the gods, who hold the wide heaven.\nAnswering him, much-devising Odysseus said:\nTelemachus, it becomes you not, when your dear father is within,\nto wonder overmuch or be amazed;\nfor no other Odysseus will come hither any more,\nbut this is I, such as I am, having suffered evils and wandered much;\nI have come in the twentieth year to my native land.\nAnd this is the work of Athena, driver of the spoil,\nwho made me such as she wills; she has the power;\nat one time like a beggar, at another again\nlike a young man wearing goodly garments about his skin.\nEasy it is for the gods, who hold the wide heaven,\nboth to glorify a mortal man and to abase him.\nSo he spoke, and sat down; and Telemachus,\nclinging about his noble father, wept, shedding tears,\nand in both of them the desire of wailing arose.\nThey wept aloud, more thickly than birds,\nsea-eagles or vultures of crooked talons, whose nestlings\ncountrymen have taken away before they could fly;\nso they shed a piteous tear beneath their brows.\nAnd the light of the sun would have gone down on them lamenting,\nhad not Telemachus straightway spoken to his father:\nIn what manner of ship, dear father, have sailors now brought you\nhither to Ithaca? Who did they boast themselves to be?\nFor in no wise do I think you came hither on foot.\nThen much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:\nThen verily I will recount the truth to you, my child.\nThe Phaeacians brought me, famed for ships, who also bring\nother men, whoever comes to them;\nand as I slept in their swift ship over the sea they carried me\nand set me down in Ithaca, and gave me glorious gifts,\nbronze and gold in abundance and woven raiment.\nAnd these lie in the caves by the will of the gods.\nAnd now I am come hither by the counsels of Athena,\nso that we may take counsel of slaughter for our foes.\nBut come, count and recount the suitors to me,\nso that I may know how many and what manner of men they are;\nand I will ponder it in my blameless heart,\nand consider whether we two can hold against them\nalone, apart from others, or whether we must seek others too.\nThen Telemachus the wise answered him and said:\nO father, verily I ever heard of your great fame,\nthat your hands are warlike and your counsel wise.\nBut you have spoken far too greatly; amazement holds me; nor may it be\nthat two men do battle against many and valiant foes.\nAnd of the suitors there is not a sure ten, nor only two,\nbut far more by far; and soon shall you learn their number here.\nFrom Dulichium come two and fifty\nchosen youths, and six serving-men follow with them;\nand from Same there are four and twenty men,\nand from Zacynthus are twenty youths of the Achaeans,\nand from Ithaca itself twelve, all of them the best,\nand with them is Medon the herald and a godlike minstrel\nand two serving-men, skilled in the carving of feasts.\nIf we shall meet with all of these within the hall,\ntake heed lest you pay, when you come, a bitter and dreadful price for violence.\nBut come, if you can devise some champion of defence,\nconsider who might defend us two with eager heart.\nThen much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him and said:\nTherefore will I speak, and do you mark it and hear me:\nand declare whether Athena with father Zeus\nshall help us both, or whether I should devise some other defender.\nThen prudent Telemachus answered him in turn:\nGood indeed are these two defenders whom you name,\nthough they sit on high amid the clouds; for they have power\nover other men and over the immortal gods.\nThen much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him and said:\nTruly those two shall not for a long time stand apart\nfrom the mighty battle, when between the suitors and us\nin my halls the fury of Ares is decided.\nBut do you now go, at the appearing of the dawn,\nhomeward, and mingle with the overbearing suitors;\nand the swineherd shall bring me later to the town,\nlike a wretched beggar and an old man.\nAnd if they dishonor me throughout the house, let your own dear heart\nendure it in your breast, while I suffer evil,\neven if they drag me by the feet through the house to the door\nor strike me with missiles; do you look on and endure.\nBut indeed you should bid them cease from their folly,\nspeaking to them with gentle words; yet they will not\nbe persuaded; for the day of doom stands near them.\nAnd another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:\nwhen Athena of many counsels shall put it in your mind,\nI will nod to you with my head, and do you then, marking it,\nas many warlike arms as lie in the halls,\ntake them up and lay them in the recess of the lofty chamber,\nall of them; and the suitors with soft words\ncoax, when they question you in their desire;\nsay that you set them aside from the smoke, since no longer did they resemble\nthe like of what Odysseus left behind when he went to Troy,\nbut they are tarnished, as far as the breath of fire has reached them.\nAnd moreover the son of Cronos put this greater thought in my heart,\nlest, being drunken, they stir up strife among you,\nand you wound one another and shame the feast\nand the wooing; for iron of itself draws on a man.\nAnd for us two alone let two swords and two spears\nbe left, and two ox-hide shields to take in our hands,\nso that we may rush upon them and seize them; and then\nPallas Athena shall bewitch them, and Zeus the counselor.\nAnd another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:\nif you are truly mine and of our blood,\nlet no one then hear that Odysseus is within,\nneither let Laertes know it, nor the swineherd,\nnor any of the household, nor Penelope herself,\nbut let you and I alone learn the mind of the women;\nand we might also make trial of some of the slave men,\nboth where one honors us two and fears in his heart,\nand where one cares not, and dishonors you though you are such as you are.\nThen his glorious son answered him and spoke:\nFather, you shall know my heart even hereafter, I think,\nfor no slackness of mind possesses me;\nbut I do not think this will be a gain\nfor us both; and I bid you consider it.\nFor long will you go about making trial of each man,\ngoing among the works; while they in the halls at ease\ndevour the goods with violence, and there is no sparing.\nBut I bid you learn the women,\nwhich of them dishonor you and which are blameless;\nbut among the men in the farmsteads I would not\nhave us make trial, but these things to be labored at later,\nif you truly know some sign from aegis-bearing Zeus.\nSo these two spoke such words to one another,\nand meanwhile the well-built ship was coming down to Ithaca,\nwhich carried Telemachus from Pylos and all his comrades.\nNow when they came within the deep-gulfed harbor,\nthey drew the black ship up on the mainland,\nand the high-spirited attendants carried away their arms,\nand straightway they bore the splendid gifts to the house of Clytius.\nAnd they sent a herald to the house of Odysseus,\nto tell the message to wise Penelope,\nthat Telemachus was in the country, and had ordered the ship\nto sail back to the city, lest in fear of heart\nthe noble queen should shed a tender tear.\nSo the herald and the noble swineherd met together\nfor the same message's sake, to tell it to the woman.\nBut when they came to the house of the godlike king,\nthe herald spoke among the serving-women:\nQueen, your dear son has already come home.\nAnd the swineherd, standing near, told Penelope\nall that her dear son had bidden him to say.\nAnd when he had told the whole charge,\nhe went his way to the swine, and left the courts and the hall.\nBut the suitors were vexed and downcast in heart,\nand came out of the hall past the great wall of the court,\nand sat them down in front of the doors.\nAnd Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak among them:\nFriends, a great deed has been overweeningly accomplished\nby Telemachus, this journey; and we said it would not be fulfilled.\nBut come, let us drag down the best black ship we have,\nand gather seafaring rowers, who may most swiftly\ntell those men to hasten home.\nNot yet was all said, when Amphinomus saw the ship\nturning from his place, within the deep-gulfed harbor,\nwith men furling sails and holding oars in their hands.\nAnd with a sweet laugh he spoke to his comrades:\nLet us no longer urge any message; for these men are within.\nEither some god told them this, or they themselves saw\nthe ship passing by, and could not catch it.\nSo he spoke, and they rose and went to the shore of the sea,\nand straightway drew the black ship up on the mainland,\nand the high-spirited attendants carried away their arms.\nAnd they themselves went in a body to the assembly, and suffered no other\nneither of the young nor of the old to sit among them.\nThen Antinous spoke among them, son of Eupeithes:\nAlas, how have the gods loosed this man from his misery.\nBy day we watchers sat on the windy headlands,\never one after another; and at sunset\nnever did we spend the night on land, but on the sea\nsailing in our swift ship we waited for the bright Dawn,\nlying in wait for Telemachus, that we might seize and slay him;\nbut meanwhile a god brought him home,\nand let us here devise for him a woeful destruction,\nfor Telemachus, and let him not escape us; for I think\nthat while this man lives these deeds will not be accomplished.\nFor he himself is skilled in counsel and in mind,\nand the people no longer altogether bear goodwill to us.\nBut come, before that man gathers the Achaeans\ninto assembly—for I do not think he will let it drop,\nbut will rage, and standing up will tell before all\nthat we plotted a sheer murder against him and did not achieve it;\nand they will not praise us when they hear of evil deeds;\nlest they do us some harm and drive us out\nof our land, and we come to the country of others;\nbut let us slay him, seizing him in the country apart from the city,\nor on the road; and let us ourselves hold his livelihood and possessions,\nsharing them fairly among us; and the house let us\ngive to his mother to hold, and to whoever weds her.\nBut if this word displeases you, and you would rather\nthat he live and keep all his father's goods,\nthen let us no longer spend goods upon him, plentiful and pleasant to the heart,\ngathering here, but let each man woo her from his own house\nseeking her with bridal gifts; and she may then\nmarry whoever gives the most, and is fated to come.\nSo he spoke, and they all became silent in stillness.\nThen Amphinomus spoke among them and said,\nthe glorious son of Nisus, lord Aretiades,\nwho from Dulichium, rich in wheat and grassy,\nled the suitors, and most of all pleased Penelope\nwith his words; for he had good understanding;\nhe, well-minded toward them, spoke and said:\nFriends, I would not wish to slay\nTelemachus; for it is a dreadful thing to slay the royal race;\nbut first let us ask the counsels of the gods.\nIf the decrees of great Zeus approve,\nI myself will slay him and bid all the others do so;\nbut if the gods turn us back, I bid you cease.\nSo spoke Amphinomus, and his word pleased them.\nThen straightway they rose and went to the house of Odysseus,\nand having come they sat down on the polished seats.\nBut wise Penelope thought of another thing,\nto appear before the suitors in their violent insolence.\nFor she had learned of the destruction of her son in the halls;\nfor the herald Medon told her, who had learned of their counsels.\nAnd she went to the hall with her attendant women.\nBut when the shining among women came to the suitors,\nshe stood by the doorpost of the well-built roof,\nholding her shining veil before her cheeks,\nand she rebuked Antinous, and spoke a word and named him:\nAntinous, full of insolence, evil-deviser, and they say that you\namong the people of Ithaca, among your fellows, are the best\nin counsel and in speech; but you are not such as that.\nMadman, why do you weave death and doom\nfor Telemachus, and do not regard suppliants, for whom Zeus\nis witness? Nor is it holy to weave evils against one another.\nDo you not know when your father came here as a fugitive,\nin fear of the people? For they were exceedingly angry,\nbecause he had followed the Taphian pirates\nand had harmed the Thesprotians; and they were friends to us;\nand they wished to destroy him and tear out his dear heart\nand to eat up his abundant, heart-pleasing livelihood;\nbut Odysseus restrained them and held them back, eager though they were.\nNow you devour his house in dishonor, and woo his wife\nand would kill his son, and grieve me greatly;\nbut I bid you cease, and bid the others too.\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her:\nDaughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\ntake courage; let not these things trouble your heart.\nThere is no such man, nor shall there be, nor shall he be born,\nwho shall lay hands on Telemachus your son,\nwhile I live and look upon the earth.\nFor thus I will speak out, and surely it shall be accomplished:\nquickly shall his black blood flow about my spear,\nmy own, since Odysseus, sacker of cities, once\nmany a time set me on his knees and put roast meat\nin my hands, and held the red wine to me.\nTherefore Telemachus is by far the dearest to me of all\nmen, and I bid him not to fear death at all\nfrom the suitors; but from the gods there is no escaping.\nSo he spoke, encouraging her, but himself was preparing his destruction.\nAnd she went up to the shining upper chambers\nand wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until on her eyelids\nbright-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep.\nIn the evening the noble swineherd came to Odysseus and his son;\nand they made ready their supper standing by,\nhaving sacrificed a year-old boar. But Athena,\nstanding near, smote Odysseus, son of Laertes,\nwith her rod and made him an old man again,\nand clothed him in wretched garments about his body, lest the swineherd\nshould know him looking on him, and should go to wise Penelope\nand tell her, nor keep it in his heart.\nAnd Telemachus spoke first to him:\nYou have come, noble Eumaeus. What then is the talk in the city?\nAre the proud suitors already within\nfrom their ambush, or are they yet watching for me as I return home?\nAnd answering him you said, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nI had no care to ask and inquire about these things\nas I went down into the city; my heart bade me most swiftly\ntell my message and come back hither again.\nAnd a swift messenger went with me from your comrades,\na herald, who was the first to speak a word to your mother.\nAnd another thing I know; for I saw it with my eyes.\nAlready above the city, where the hill of Hermes is,\nI was going, when I saw a swift ship coming down\ninto our harbor; and there were many men in it,\nand it was heavy with shields and two-edged spears;\nand I thought they were those men, but I do not know for sure.\nSo he spoke, and the sacred strength of Telemachus smiled,\nlooking with his eyes at his father, and shunned the swineherd's notice.\nBut when they had ceased from their labor and made ready the feast,\nthey feasted, nor did their heart lack an equal share of the feast.\nBut when they had put away the desire of drink and food,\nthey bethought them of their beds and took the gift of sleep.\n\n### Book 17\n\nWhen early-born Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered,\nthen upon his feet he bound the beautiful sandals,\nTelemachos, the dear son of godlike Odysseus,\nand he took up the valiant spear that fitted his palms,\neager for the town, and he spoke to his own swineherd:\nFriend, truly I go to the city, so that my mother\nmay see me; for I think she will not cease from before,\nfrom loathsome wailing and tearful lamentation,\nuntil she beholds me myself; but to you I give this charge.\nLead this wretched stranger to the city, so that there\nhe may beg his dinner; and whoever wishes will give him\na loaf and a cup; for me it is in no way possible to endure\nall men, though I have griefs in my heart;\nand the stranger, even if he be very angry, it shall be\nthe worse for him; for truly I love to speak the truth.\nThen in answer many-minded Odysseus addressed him:\nFriend, I myself am not eager to be held back;\nfor a beggar it is better throughout the town than through the fields\nto beg his dinner; and whoever wishes will give to me.\nFor I am not of an age to abide any longer at the farmsteads,\nso as to obey a master in all things when he commands.\nBut go on your way; and this man, whom you command, shall lead me\nstraightway, when the warmth and the heat of the fire be come.\nFor terribly wretched are these garments I wear; lest\nthe morning frost subdue me; and afar they say the town is.\nSo he spoke, and Telemachos had gone through the farmstead,\nstepping swiftly with his feet, and he was sowing evils for the suitors.\nBut when he came to the well-built house,\nthe spear he carried he stood against a tall pillar,\nand he himself went within and crossed the stone threshold.\nAnd the nurse Eurykleia saw him first by far,\nspreading hides upon the cunningly wrought chairs,\nand weeping she went straight to him; and about him the other\nhandmaids of steadfast Odysseus gathered,\nand they kissed his head and his shoulders, welcoming him.\nAnd from her chamber came wise Penelope,\nlike unto Artemis or golden Aphrodite,\nand about her dear son she cast her arms, weeping,\nand she kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes,\nand lamenting she spoke winged words to him:\nYou have come, Telemachos, sweet light. Never again, I said,\nshould I behold you, since you went with a ship to Pylos\nin secret, against my will, to hear tidings of your dear father.\nBut come now, recount to me how you met with the sight of him.\nAnd prudent Telemachos answered her in turn:\nMy mother, do not rouse lamentation in me, nor stir\nmy heart within my breast, though I have escaped sheer destruction;\nbut bathe you, and put clean garments upon your body,\nand going up to your upper chamber with your attendant women,\npray to all the gods that you will render perfect hecatombs,\nif perchance Zeus shall accomplish deeds of requital.\nBut I will go to the assembly, so that I may summon\nthe stranger, whosoever followed with me hither as I came.\nHim I sent on before with my godlike companions,\nand I charged Peiraios to lead him to his house\nand to love and honor him kindly, until I come.\nSo she spoke, and for her the word was wingless.\nAnd she bathed, and put clean garments upon her body,\nand prayed to all the gods that she would render\nperfect hecatombs, if perchance Zeus shall accomplish deeds of requital.\nAnd Telemachos thereafter had gone through the great hall\nholding his spear; and with him two swift dogs followed.\nAnd wondrous grace Athene poured over him;\nand all the people marveled at him as he came on.\nAnd about him the lordly suitors gathered,\nspeaking fair words, but in their hearts brooding evils.\nBut he avoided their great throng,\nand there where Mentor sat and Antiphos and Halitherses,\nwho were his father's companions from the beginning,\nthere he went and sat him down; and they questioned him of everything.\nAnd to them Peiraios, famed for the spear, came near,\nleading the stranger to the assembly through the town; nor any longer\ndid Telemachos turn away from the stranger, but stood beside him.\nAnd Peiraios first spoke a word to him:\nTelemachos, quickly urge the women to my house,\nso that I may send on the gifts that Menelaos gave you.\nAnd prudent Telemachos answered him in turn:\nPeiraios, for we know not how these deeds shall be.\nIf the lordly suitors slay me in the halls\nin secret, and divide among them all my father's goods,\nI would rather you yourself enjoyed them, than one of these;\nbut if I sow slaughter and death for these men,\nthen bring them to my house rejoicing, and I shall rejoice.\nSo saying, he led the much-suffering stranger to his house.\nBut when they came to the well-built house,\ntheir cloaks they laid upon the couches and the chairs,\nand stepping into the well-polished bathtubs they bathed.\nAnd when the handmaids had bathed them and anointed them with oil,\nand cast about them shaggy cloaks and tunics,\nthey stepped from the bathtubs and sat upon the chairs.\nAnd a handmaid poured water for the hands from a pitcher she brought,\na beautiful golden one, above a silver basin,\nthat they might wash; and beside them she drew up a polished table.\nAnd the honored housekeeper brought and set before them bread,\nlaying on many viands, giving freely of what was present.\nAnd his mother sat opposite, beside the doorpost of the hall,\nleaning upon a chair, spinning fine threads of wool.\nAnd they stretched their hands to the ready food set before them,\nbut when they had put away the desire of drink and of food,\nthen wise Penelope began speech among them:\nTelemachos, truly I, going up to my upper chamber,\nshall lay me down upon my bed, which has been made woeful for me,\never drenched with my tears, since Odysseus\ndeparted with the sons of Atreus to Ilios; nor did you dare,\nbefore the lordly suitors came to this house,\nto tell me clearly of your father's homecoming, if you heard it anywhere.\nAnd prudent Telemachos answered her in turn:\nThen, mother, I shall recount to you the truth.\nWe went to Pylos and to Nestor, shepherd of the people;\nand he received me in his lofty halls\nand kindly entertained me, as a father his own son\ncome after long time, newly from elsewhere; so did he\nkindly care for me with his glorious sons.\nBut of steadfast Odysseus never did he say\nthat he heard tidings from any mortal, alive or dead;\nbut he sped me on to the son of Atreus, Menelaos famed for the spear,\nwith horses and well-joined chariots.\nThere I beheld Argive Helen, for whose sake many\nArgives and Trojans toiled by the will of the gods.\nAnd straightway good at the war-cry, Menelaos asked\nfor what need I had come to shining Lakedaimon;\nand I recounted to him all the truth;\nand then answering me with words he spoke:\nAh me, truly they wished to lie in the bed\nof a strong-hearted man, they themselves being cowards.\nAs when in a thicket a hind of a mighty lion\nhas lulled to sleep her newborn, milk-fed fawns,\nand searches the glens and the grassy hollows\nas she grazes, and he thereafter enters his own lair,\nand upon both of them he sends an unseemly doom,\nso shall Odysseus send upon those men an unseemly doom.\nIf only, father Zeus and Athene and Apollo,\nbeing such as he was when once in well-built Lesbos\nhe rose up and wrestled in strife with Philomeleides,\nand threw him mightily, and all the Achaeans rejoiced,\nbeing such, Odysseus might consort with the suitors;\nall would become swift-fated and bitterly wedded.\nBut these things you ask and entreat of me, I for my part\nwould not speak otherwise, turning aside, nor deceive you,\nbut as the old man of the sea, truthful, told me,\nI will hide no word of it from you nor conceal it.\nHe said he beheld him on an island, having mighty griefs,\nin the halls of the nymph Kalypso, who by necessity\nholds him; and he cannot reach his own fatherland.\nFor he has no oared ships at hand and no companions,\nwho might send him over the broad back of the sea.\nSo spoke the son of Atreus, Menelaos famed for the spear.\nHaving finished this I returned; and the immortals gave me\na fair wind, which swiftly sent me to my dear fatherland.\nSo he spoke, and stirred the spirit in her breast.\nAnd among them godlike Theoklymenos also spoke:\nRevered lady, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,\ntruly he knows not clearly; but hear my word;\nfor I will prophesy to you exactly and will not conceal it.\nLet Zeus be witness now, first of gods, and the stranger's table\nand the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have reached,\nthat truly Odysseus is already in his fatherland,\nsitting or creeping, learning of these evil deeds;\nhe is here, and he sows evil for all the suitors.\nSuch a bird of omen I marked, seated\non the well-benched ship, and I called it to Telemachos.\nAnd wise Penelope addressed him in turn:\nIf only, stranger, this word might be accomplished;\nthen you would soon know friendship and many gifts\nfrom me, so that whoever met you would call you blessed.\nSo they spoke such things to one another,\nand the suitors before the hall of Odysseus\ntook delight in quoits and in hurling javelins\non the leveled floor, where before they had their insolence.\nBut when it was dinner-time and the flocks came\nfrom the fields on every side, and those who had brought them before,\nthen Medon spoke to them; for he pleased them most\nof the heralds, and was present at their feasting:\nYoung men, since you have all delighted your hearts with contests,\ncome to the house, that we may prepare the feast;\nfor in no way is it worse to take dinner in season.\nSo he spoke, and they rose up and went, obeying the word.\nBut when they came to the well-built house,\ntheir cloaks they laid upon the couches and the chairs,\nand they sacrificed great sheep and fat goats,\nthey sacrificed boars rich with fat and a cow of the herd,\npreparing the feast. And from the field toward the town\nOdysseus and the godlike swineherd hastened to go.\nAnd the swineherd began speech among them, leader of men:\nStranger, since you are eager to go to the town\ntoday, as my master commanded—truly I for my part\nwould wish to leave you here as guardian of the farmstead;\nbut him I fear and dread, lest afterward\nhe reproach me; hard are the rebukes of masters—\nbut come now, let us go; for the day has come on greatly,\nand soon toward evening it will be colder.\nAnd many-minded Odysseus answered him:\nI know, I understand; as a thoughtful man you command.\nBut let us go, and do you lead the way throughout.\nAnd give me, if anywhere you have a cut club,\nto lean upon, since you said the path is slippery.\nSo he spoke, and cast about his shoulders his unseemly pouch,\nfull of holes; and in it there was a twisted strap;\nand Eumaios gave him a staff dear to his heart.\nThe two went on, and the dogs and the herdsmen men\nguarded the farmstead behind, remaining; but he led the master to the town\nlike a wretched beggar and an old man,\nleaning on a staff; and about his skin he wore wretched garments.\nBut when, journeying along the rugged road,\nthey were near the town and came to the spring\nbuilt and fair-flowing, from which the townsfolk drew water,\nwhich Ithakos made and Neritos and Polyktor;\nand about it was a grove of water-nurtured poplars,\nall around in a circle, and down flowed cold water\nfrom on high out of a rock; and above it an altar had been built\nto the nymphs, where all wayfarers made offering;\nthere the son of Dolios, Melanthios, came upon them,\nleading goats, which stood out among all the herds,\nfor the suitors' dinner; and two herdsmen followed with him.\nSeeing them he reviled them, and spoke a word and named them,\noutrageous and unseemly; and he stirred the heart of Odysseus:\nNow truly a base man leads a base man,\nas always a god leads like to like.\nWhere then are you leading this greedy-belly, wretched swineherd,\na tiresome beggar, a scrubber of feasts?\nOne who, standing by many doorposts, will rub his shoulders,\nbegging for scraps, not swords nor cauldrons;\nhim, if you gave him to me to be guardian of the farmstead\nand to tend the pens and carry leaves for the kids,\ndrinking whey he might make a great thigh for himself.\nBut since he has learned base works, he will not wish\nto go about any work, but skulking through the district\nhe wishes to beg and feed his insatiable belly.\nBut I tell you this, and it shall also be accomplished:\nif he comes to the house of godlike Odysseus,\nmany footstools from the hands of men\nabout his head will rub his ribs as he is cast through the house.\nSo he spoke, and as he passed he kicked him in his folly\nupon the hip; but he did not thrust him off the path,\nbut he stood firm; and Odysseus pondered\nwhether, rushing upon him with a club, he should take his life,\nor should dash his head to the ground, lifting it up on both sides.\nBut he endured it, and restrained himself in his mind; and the swineherd\nreviled him, looking him in the face, and prayed greatly, lifting his hands:\nNymphs of the springs, daughters of Zeus, if ever Odysseus\nburned fat thighs for you, covered with rich fat,\nof lambs and kids, fulfill this desire for me:\nthat that man may come, and a god may lead him;\nthen he would scatter all your splendors,\nwhich now in insolence you carry, forever wandering\nthrough the town; but evil herdsmen destroy the flocks.\nAnd Melanthios answered him, the goatherd of goats:\nAh me, how the dog speaks, knowing deadly things!\nHim one day I will take on a black, well-benched ship\nfar from Ithaka, so that he may fetch me much profit.\nIf only silver-bowed Apollo would strike Telemachos\ntoday in the halls, or he be subdued by the suitors,\nas the day of Odysseus' homecoming perished far away.\nSo saying he left them, walking slowly there,\nbut he went on, and very swiftly came to the house of the master.\nStraightway he went within, and sat down among the suitors,\nopposite Eurymachos; for he loved him most.\nBeside him those who served set a portion of meat,\nand the honored housekeeper brought and set before him bread\nto eat. And near at hand Odysseus and the godlike swineherd\nstood as they came, and about them came the sound\nof the hollow lyre; for among them Phemios\nwas beginning to sing; and he took the swineherd by the hand and spoke:\nEumaios, truly this is the beautiful house of Odysseus,\nand easily known is it even among many to behold.\nOne thing after another is it, and the courtyard is furnished\nwith wall and cornice, and the doors are well-fenced,\ndouble-folding; no man could overmaster it.\nAnd I know that many men set a feast in it,\nsince the savor of fat has risen, and within the lyre\nrings out, which the gods made the companion of the feast.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:\nEasily you knew, since you are not in other things either witless.\nBut come, let us consider how these deeds shall be.\nEither do you go first into the well-built house,\nand go among the suitors, and I will remain here;\nor if you wish, wait, and I will go in front;\nand do not delay, lest someone notice you outside\nand strike you or drive you; these things I bid you consider.\nAnd much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:\nI know, I understand; as a thoughtful man you command.\nBut go in front, and I will remain here.\nFor I am not unacquainted with blows nor with wounds;\ndaring is my spirit, since I have suffered many evils\nin waves and in war; let this too be among them;\nfor the belly it is in no way possible to hide when it is eager,\naccursed, which gives many evils to men,\nfor whose sake even well-benched ships are fitted out\nover the barren sea, bringing evils to enemies.\nSo they spoke such things to one another;\nand the dog lying there raised his head and his ears,\nArgos, the dog of steadfast Odysseus, whom once he himself\nreared, but had no joy of him, for before that to holy Ilios\nhe had gone. Him formerly young men used to lead\nafter wild goats and deer and hares;\nbut then he lay neglected, his master gone,\nin much dung, which before the doors\nof mules and cattle was poured in abundance, until the servants\nof Odysseus should lead it to the great field for manuring;\nthere the dog Argos lay, full of dog-ticks.\nThen truly, when he perceived that Odysseus was near,\nhe wagged his tail and dropped both ears,\nbut no longer thereafter was he able to come near his own master;\nbut Odysseus, looking away, wiped away a tear,\neasily escaping Eumaios' notice, and straightway questioned him with a word:\nEumaios, truly it is a great wonder that this dog lies in the dung.\nBeautiful in body is he, but this I know not clearly,\nwhether he was also swift to run in keeping with this appearance,\nor merely such as the table-dogs of men\nbecome; for masters tend them for their splendor.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:\nYes indeed, this is the dog of a man who died far away.\nIf he were such in body and in deeds\nas when Odysseus left him, going to Troy,\nyou would quickly marvel, beholding his speed and his strength.\nFor never did he flee from any beast in the depths\nof the deep wood, whatever he chased; for he was excellent in tracking;\nbut now he is held by misery, and his master has perished\nelsewhere from his fatherland, and careless women tend him not.\nAnd servants, when masters no longer rule over them,\nno longer wish to do what is right;\nfor far-seeing Zeus takes away half\nof a man's virtue, when the day of slavery seizes him.\nSo saying he entered the well-built house,\nand went straight to the hall among the lordly suitors.\nAnd the doom of black death took Argos,\nstraightway, when he beheld Odysseus in the twentieth year.\nAnd godlike Telemachos saw the swineherd first by far\ncoming through the house, and swiftly then\nnodded to him, calling him; and he looked about and took a chair\nthat lay there, where the carver used to sit, carving\nmuch meat for the suitors feasting through the house;\nthis he brought and set near the table of Telemachos,\nopposite, and there he himself sat down; and a herald\ntook a portion and set it before him, and bread from a basket.\nAnd near after him Odysseus entered the house,\nlike a wretched beggar and an old man,\nleaning on a staff; and about his skin he wore wretched garments.\nAnd he sat down upon the ash-wood threshold inside the doors,\nleaning against a cypress doorpost, which a carpenter once\nsmoothed skillfully and set straight by the line.\nAnd Telemachos called to him and spoke to the swineherd,\ntaking a whole loaf from the beautiful basket\nand meat, as much as his hands could hold when he filled them:\nGive these to the stranger, carrying them, and bid him himself\nbeg from all the suitors, going about to each;\nfor shame is not good to be present with a man in need.\nSo he spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word,\nand standing near he spoke winged words:\nTelemachos gives you these, stranger, and bids you\nbeg from all the suitors, going about to each;\nfor he says shame is not good for a man who begs.\nAnd many-minded Odysseus answered him:\nLord Zeus, may Telemachos be blessed among men,\nand may all things be his, as many as he desires in his heart.\nSo he spoke, and with both hands he received it and set it down\nthere before his feet, upon his unseemly pouch,\nand he ate while the singer sang in the halls;\nand when he had dined, the divine singer ceased.\nAnd the suitors clamored through the hall. And Athene,\nstanding near, urged Laertes' son Odysseus\nto gather loaves among the suitors,\nand to learn who were the righteous and who the lawless;\nbut not even so was she about to ward off evil from any one of them.\nHe went to beg, going from the right, each man,\nstretching out his hand on every side, as if he had long been a beggar.\nAnd they, pitying him, gave, and marveled at him,\nand asked one another who he was and from whence he came.\nAnd Melanthios also spoke among them, the goatherd of goats:\nHear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,\nconcerning this stranger; for truly I saw him before.\nIndeed the swineherd led him hither,\nbut I know not clearly from whence he claims his lineage.\nSo he spoke, and Antinoos reviled the swineherd with words:\nO famous swineherd, why did you lead this man\nto the town? Have we not enough other vagabonds,\ntiresome beggars, scrubbers of feasts?\nDo you begrudge that they eat up the master's livelihood\ngathering here, and you even called this one besides?\nAnd you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:\nAntinoos, though you are noble, you speak no fair word.\nFor who calls a stranger from elsewhere, himself coming,\nanother one, unless he be one of the public workers,\na seer or a healer of ills or a carpenter of beams,\nor even a divine singer, who delights by singing?\nFor these are the summoned ones of mortals over the boundless earth;\nbut a beggar who devours himself no one would call.\nBut ever are you harsh above all the suitors\ntoward the servants of Odysseus, and especially toward me; but I\ncare not, as long as thoughtful Penelope\nlives in the halls and godlike Telemachos.\nAnd prudent Telemachos answered him in turn:\nBe silent, do not answer him with many words;\nAntinoos is wont always to provoke evilly\nwith harsh words, and he stirs up others too.\nSo he spoke, and addressed winged words to Antinoos:\nAntinoos, truly you care for me finely as a father for his son,\nyou who bid the stranger be thrust from the hall\nwith a compelling word; may no god accomplish this.\nTake and give to him; I do not begrudge it; indeed I bid you.\nAnd do not reverence my mother in this, nor any other\nof the servants, who are in the house of godlike Odysseus.\nBut no such thought is in your breast;\nfor you yourself wish to eat much rather than give to another.\nAnd Antinoos answered him in turn:\nTelemachos, loud-vaunting, unrestrained in fury, what a word you have spoken.\nIf all the suitors would reach out so much to him,\nthen his house would hold him off three months.\nSo he spoke, and taking a footstool from beneath the table\nhe showed it, where he used to rest his shining feet while feasting;\nand all the others gave, and they filled his pouch\nwith bread and meat; and soon Odysseus was about\nto go again to the threshold, to taste the gifts of the Achaeans;\nbut he stood by Antinoos and spoke a word to him:\nGive, friend; you do not seem to me to be the worst\nof the Achaeans, but the best, since you look like a king.\nTherefore you ought to give even better than the others,\nbread; and I will praise you over the boundless earth.\nFor I too once dwelt in a house among men,\nblessed and rich, and often I gave to a wanderer,\nsuch as he was and of whatever need he came;\nand I had countless servants and many other things\nwith which men live well and are called rich.\nBut Zeus the son of Kronos destroyed it—for he wished it somehow—\nwho sent me with much-wandering pirates\nto go to Egypt, a long journey, that I might perish.\nI stationed my curved ships at the Egyptian river.\nThen truly I bade my trusty companions\nto remain there by the ships and guard the ships,\nand I urged scouts to go to the lookout places.\nBut they, yielding to insolence, following their own fury,\nstraightway laid waste the very beautiful fields of the Egyptian men,\nand led away the women and the infant children,\nand slew the men themselves; and swiftly a cry reached the city.\nAnd they, hearing the shout as the dawn appeared,\ncame; and the whole plain was filled with footmen and horses\nand the flash of bronze; and Zeus who delights in thunder\ncast a base rout upon my companions, and no one dared\nto stand against them; for evils stood around on every side.\nThere they killed many of us with the sharp bronze,\nand led others away alive, to work for them by necessity.\nBut me they gave to a stranger they met in Cyprus,\nto Dmetor, son of Iasos, who ruled Cyprus by force;\nfrom there indeed I have now come hither, suffering woes.\nAnd Antinoos answered him in turn and spoke:\nWhat god brought this woe, this annoyance of the feast?\nStand thus in the middle, away from my table,\nlest you soon reach bitter Egypt and Cyprus;\nfor you are a bold and shameless beggar.\nIn turn you stand by all; and they give\nat random, since there is no restraint nor pity\nin giving from others' goods, since plenty is at hand for each.\nAnd withdrawing, many-minded Odysseus spoke:\nAh me, so your mind does not match your looks;\nyou would not give even salt to your own house-master from your house,\nyou who now sit by others' goods and did not dare\nto take bread and give it to me; yet much is present.\nSo he spoke, and Antinoos grew angrier in his heart,\nand looking at him darkly he spoke winged words:\nNow indeed I think you will no longer go back\nfairly through the hall, since you utter reproaches too.\nSo he spoke, and taking a footstool he struck him on the right shoulder,\nat the very bottom of his back; and he stood like a rock\nfirm, nor did the missile of Antinoos make him stagger,\nbut silently he nodded his head, brooding evils.\nAnd back he went and sat upon the threshold, and set down his pouch\nwell filled, and spoke among the suitors:\nHear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,\nwhile I speak what my spirit in my breast bids me.\nThere is no grief in my mind nor any sorrow\nwhen a man is struck while fighting for his own possessions,\neither for cattle or for white sheep;\nbut Antinoos struck me for the sake of my wretched belly,\naccursed, which gives many evils to men.\nBut if there are gods and Furies for beggars,\nmay the doom of death come upon Antinoos before his marriage.\nAnd Antinoos, son of Eupeithes, answered him:\nEat in peace, stranger, sitting still, or go elsewhere,\nlest the young men drag you through the house for the words you speak,\nby foot or by hand, and tear you all to pieces.\nSo he spoke, and all of them were exceedingly indignant;\nand thus one of the overbearing young men said:\nAntinoos, you did not strike the wretched wanderer fairly,\naccursed, if indeed there is some heavenly god.\nAnd gods, likened to foreign strangers,\ntaking all sorts of forms, roam the cities,\nwatching the insolence and the good order of men.\nSo the suitors spoke, but he paid no heed to their words.\nAnd Telemachos in his heart increased great grief\nat the blow, but he let no tear fall to the ground from his eyelids,\nbut silently he nodded his head, brooding evils.\nAnd when wise Penelope heard of him\nstruck in the hall, she spoke among her handmaids:\nIf only far-famed Apollo would strike that man himself.\nAnd the housekeeper Eurynome spoke a word to her:\nIf only accomplishment would come to our prayers;\nthen none of these would reach the fair-throned Dawn.\nAnd wise Penelope answered her in turn:\nNurse, all of them are hateful, since they devise evils;\nbut Antinoos most of all resembles black doom.\nSome wretched stranger wanders through the house\nbegging from men; for need compels him;\nand there all the others both filled him and gave,\nbut this one struck his right shoulder with a footstool.\nSo she spoke among her handmaid women,\nsitting in her chamber; and godlike Odysseus dined;\nand she called to her and spoke to the godlike swineherd:\nGo, godlike Eumaios, go and bid the stranger\nto come, so that I may greet him and ask him\nwhether he has heard anything of steadfast Odysseus\nor seen him with his eyes; for he looks like one much wandered.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:\nIf only, queen, the Achaeans would be silent;\nsuch things as he tells, your dear heart would be charmed.\nFor I kept him three nights, and three days I detained him\nin my hut; for first he came to me after escaping from his ship;\nbut he has not yet finished the misery he tells.\nAs when a man gazes at a singer, who from the gods\nsings, knowing lovely words for mortals,\nand they are insatiably eager to hear him whenever he sings;\nso that man charmed me, sitting beside me in the halls.\nAnd he says he is a guest-friend of Odysseus by inheritance,\ndwelling in Crete, where the race of Minos is.\nFrom there indeed he has now come hither, suffering woes,\nrolling on and on; and he claims he has heard of Odysseus,\nnear at hand, in the rich district of the Thesprotian men,\nthat he is alive; and he brings many treasures home to this house.\nAnd wise Penelope answered him in turn:\nGo, call him hither, so that he may himself tell me face to face.\nAnd let these men sit and amuse themselves at the doors,\nor here through the house, since their heart is merry.\nFor their own possessions lie unspoiled in the house,\nbread and sweet wine; these the household eats,\nbut they, coming to our house every day,\nsacrificing cattle and sheep and fat goats,\nfeast and drink the flaming wine,\nat random; and much is consumed. For no longer is there a man\nsuch as Odysseus was, to ward off ruin from the house.\nBut if Odysseus would come and reach his fatherland,\nsoon with his son he would exact payment for the violence of the men.\nSo she spoke, and Telemachos sneezed greatly, and through the house\nit rang terribly; and Penelope laughed,\nand straightway she spoke winged words to Eumaios:\nGo, call the stranger hither before me.\nDo you not see that my son sneezed at all my words?\nTherefore death shall not be unaccomplished for the suitors,\nfor all of them, nor shall any escape death and the fates.\nAnd I will tell you another thing, and do you set it in your mind:\nif I find him telling all things truthfully,\nI will clothe him in cloak and tunic, beautiful garments.\nSo she spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word;\nand standing near he spoke winged words:\nStranger and father, wise Penelope calls you,\nthe mother of Telemachos; the desire of her heart\nbids her inquire about her husband, though she has suffered griefs.\nAnd if she finds you telling all things truthfully,\nshe will clothe you in cloak and tunic, which you most\nneed; and bread, begging through the district,\nyou will feed your belly; and whoever wishes will give you.\nAnd much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:\nEumaios, straightway I would tell all things truthfully\nto the daughter of Ikarios, wise Penelope;\nfor I know well concerning him, and we have shared the same sorrow.\nBut I dread the crowd of harsh suitors,\nwhose insolence and violence reach the iron heaven.\nFor even now, when this man struck me as I came through the house,\nthough I had done no wrong, and gave me pains,\nneither Telemachos helped in this nor any other.\nTherefore now bid Penelope in the halls\nto wait, though she is eager, until the sun sets;\nand then let her ask me about the day of her husband's homecoming,\nhaving seated me closer by the fire; for I have\nwretched garments; you yourself know, since I first supplicated you.\nSo he spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word.\nAnd Penelope spoke to him as he crossed the threshold:\nYou are not bringing him, Eumaios; why did the wanderer think this?\nIs he fearing someone excessively, or does he otherwise\nfeel shame in the house? A base wanderer is a shameful one.\nAnd you answered her, Eumaios the swineherd:\nHe speaks with reason, as any other man would think,\navoiding the insolence of overbearing men.\nBut he bids you wait until the sun sets.\nAnd for you yourself, queen, it is much better\nto speak and to listen to a word alone with the stranger.\nAnd wise Penelope answered him in turn:\nThe stranger is not foolish; he thinks as it would be;\nfor nowhere do any such mortal men\ndevise reckless things in their insolence.\nSo she spoke, and the godlike swineherd went\ninto the crowd of suitors, when he had told her everything.\nAnd straightway he spoke winged words to Telemachos,\nholding his head near, that the others might not hear:\nDear friend, I am going away, to guard the swine and those things,\nyour livelihood and mine; but let all things here be your care.\nFirst save yourself, and consider in your heart\nlest you suffer something; for many of the Achaeans plan evils,\nwhom may Zeus destroy before they become a woe to us.\nAnd prudent Telemachos answered him in turn:\nIt shall be so, father; but go, after your evening meal;\nand at dawn come and bring fine sacrificial victims;\nand all these things shall be my care and the immortals'.\nSo he spoke, and he sat down again upon the well-polished chair,\nand having filled his heart with food and drink\nhe went to the swine, and left the pens and the hall,\nfull of banqueters; and they with dancing and song\ntook their delight; for now the late day had come.\n\n### Book 18\n\nThere came a common beggar, who through the town\nbegged in Ithaca, and was noted for his ravenous belly,\nfor ceaseless eating and drinking; and there was no strength in him\nnor might, though in form he was very big to look upon.\nArnaeus was his name; for so his lady mother gave it\nfrom birth; but all the young men called him Irus,\nbecause he went as messenger whenever anyone asked.\nHe came and drove Odysseus from his own house,\nand reviling him spoke winged words:\nGive way, old man, from the doorway, lest you soon be dragged by the foot.\nDo you not hear how they all wink at me\nand bid me drag you out? Yet I am ashamed.\nBut rise, lest soon there be a quarrel and blows between us.\nGlowering at him, much-devising Odysseus answered:\nStrange man, I neither do you any harm nor speak it,\nnor do I grudge anyone giving, though he had taken much.\nThis threshold will hold us both, and you have no need\nto begrudge another's goods; you seem to me a wanderer\neven as I am; but the gods may grant wealth.\nDo not provoke me too far with your hands, lest you anger me,\nlest, though old, I defile your chest and lips\nwith blood; and there would be more quiet for me\ntomorrow; for I do not think you will return\na second time to the hall of Laertes' son Odysseus.\nAngered, the beggar Irus addressed him:\nAlas, how glibly this greedy glutton talks,\nlike a crone at the oven; on whom I would devise evils,\nstriking with both fists, and I would drive all his teeth\nfrom his jaws to the ground, as if he were a ravening sow.\nGird yourself now, so that all these too may know\nus fighting; how could you fight a younger man?\nSo the two before the high doors\non the polished threshold strove with all their hearts.\nAnd the sacred fury of Antinous understood them,\nand laughing sweetly he spoke among the suitors:\nFriends, never before has such a thing happened,\nwhat delight a god has brought into this house.\nThe stranger and Irus contend with each other\nto fight with their hands; come, let us match them quickly.\nSo he spoke, and all leapt up laughing,\nand they gathered around the two ill-clad beggars.\nAntinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them:\nHear me, lordly suitors, that I may say something.\nThese goats' paunches lie in the fire, which for supper\nwe set there, filled with fat and blood;\nwhichever of the two wins and proves the better,\nlet him rise and take whichever of them he wishes;\nand ever hereafter he shall share with us, nor shall we allow\nany other beggar to come in and beg among us.\nSo spoke Antinous, and the word pleased them.\nBut much-devising Odysseus, with crafty mind, said to them:\nFriends, it is in no way possible for an old man,\nafflicted with misery, to fight a younger; but my belly\nthe evil-working drives me on, that I may be subdued by blows.\nBut come now, all swear me a strong oath,\nthat no one, showing favor to Irus, may strike me with heavy hand\nin wickedness, and so subdue me by force to him.\nSo he spoke, and all swore as he commanded.\nBut when they had sworn and finished the oath,\nthen again the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke among them:\nStranger, if your heart and lordly spirit urge you\nto ward off this man, then fear no other of the Achaeans,\nfor whoever strikes you will fight with more than one.\nI am your host, and the princes approve it,\nboth Antinous and Eurymachus, both men of understanding.\nSo he spoke, and all approved; but Odysseus\ngirded his rags about his loins, and showed his thighs\nfair and great, and his broad shoulders appeared\nand chest and sturdy arms; and Athena\nstanding near made the limbs of the shepherd of the people grow.\nAnd all the suitors marveled exceedingly;\nand thus one would speak, looking at his neighbor:\nSoon will Irus be Irus no more and have a self-invited evil,\nsuch a thigh the old man shows from beneath his rags.\nSo they spoke, and the spirit of Irus was stirred to evil.\nYet even so the servants brought him, girding him by force,\nall afraid; and his flesh trembled around his limbs.\nAntinous rebuked him, and spoke and named him:\nNow may you not be, you boaster, nor ever have been,\nif you tremble before this man and fear him terribly,\nan old man, afflicted with misery that has come upon him.\nBut I will speak out, and it shall be accomplished:\nif this man conquers you and proves the better,\nI will send you to the mainland, casting you in a black ship,\nto king Echetus, the destroyer of all mortals,\nwho will cut off your nose and ears with pitiless bronze,\nand tearing out your privy parts give them raw to the dogs to share.\nSo he spoke, and trembling seized his limbs yet more.\nThey led them to the middle; both raised their hands.\nThen much-enduring, brilliant Odysseus pondered\nwhether to strike so that his life should leave him fallen there,\nor to strike him lightly and stretch him on the ground.\nThus, as he pondered, it seemed better to him\nto strike lightly, lest the Achaeans notice him.\nThen as they raised their hands, one struck the right shoulder,\nIrus; and the other struck his neck beneath the ear, and crushed the bones\nwithin; at once crimson blood came through his mouth,\nand he fell bellowing in the dust, and gnashed his teeth\nkicking the earth with his feet; and the noble suitors\ndied of laughter, raising their hands. But Odysseus\ndragged him by the foot through the doorway until he reached the court,\nand the doors of the porch; and against the courtyard wall\nhe set him, leaning him back, and put his staff into his hand,\nand speaking addressed him with winged words:\nSit here now and keep off the swine and the dogs,\nand do not be a lord over strangers and beggars,\nwretched as you are, lest you get some evil even greater.\nHe spoke, and slung about his shoulders his unseemly wallet,\nmuch torn, and in it was a twisted cord for a strap.\nThen he went back and sat down on the threshold; and they went in\nlaughing sweetly and greeting him with words:\nMay Zeus give you, stranger, and the other immortal gods,\nwhatever you most desire and is dear to your heart,\nyou who have stopped this glutton from begging\namong the people; for soon we will carry him to the mainland\nto king Echetus, destroyer of all mortals.\nSo they spoke, and brilliant Odysseus rejoiced at the omen.\nAnd Antinous set before him a great paunch,\nfull of fat and blood; and Amphinomus\nlifted two loaves from the basket and set them beside him,\nand pledged him with a golden cup, and spoke:\nHail, father stranger, may there be for you hereafter\nwealth; but now you are held by many troubles.\nAnswering him, much-devising Odysseus said:\nAmphinomus, truly you seem to me a man of understanding,\nof such a father too, for I have heard his good repute,\nthat Nisus of Dulichium was both noble and wealthy;\nfrom him they say you are born, and you seem a gracious man.\nTherefore I will tell you, and do you mark it and hear me:\nEarth nourishes nothing more feeble than man,\nof all things that breathe and creep upon the earth.\nFor he never thinks he will suffer evil hereafter,\nas long as the gods grant him excellence and his knees are nimble;\nbut when the blessed gods bring grievous things to pass,\nhe bears them too, unwilling, with an enduring heart.\nFor such is the mind of men upon the earth\nas the day the father of men and gods brings on.\nFor I too was once destined to be happy among men,\nand I did many reckless things, yielding to force and might,\ntrusting in my father and in my brothers.\nTherefore let no man ever be altogether lawless,\nbut let him keep in silence whatever gifts the gods give.\nSuch things I see the suitors recklessly devising,\nwasting the possessions and dishonoring the wife\nof a man who, I say, will no longer be absent from his friends\nand fatherland for long; he is very near. But may some deity\nlead you home out of the way, and may you not meet that man,\nwhen he returns to his dear fatherland;\nfor I do not think they will part without bloodshed,\nthe suitors and that man, once he comes beneath the roof.\nSo he spoke, and after the libation drank the honey-sweet wine,\nand put the cup back into the hands of the marshal of the people.\nBut he went through the house, grieved at heart,\nnodding with his head; for his spirit foresaw evil.\nYet not even so did he escape his fate; Athena bound even him\nto be subdued by force beneath the hands and spear of Telemachus.\nThen he sat down again on the chair from which he had risen.\nAnd the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, put it into the mind\nof the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\nto appear before the suitors, so that she might most widen\nthe hearts of the suitors and be held more honored\nby her husband and son than she had been before.\nShe laughed meaninglessly, and spoke and named the word:\nEurynome, my heart longs, as never before,\nto appear before the suitors, hateful as they are to me;\nand I would speak a word to my son, which would be better for him,\nnot to consort in everything with the overbearing suitors,\nwho speak well to the face but think evil behind.\nThen the housekeeper Eurynome answered her:\nYes indeed, child, you have spoken all this in season.\nBut go and speak a word to your son, and do not hide it,\nafter washing your skin and anointing your cheeks;\nand do not go with your face thus defiled with tears,\nfor it is worse to mourn endlessly and ever.\nFor your son is already of such an age, the one you above all\nprayed to the immortals to see with a beard.\nThen wise Penelope answered her:\nEurynome, do not urge these things on me, careful though you are,\nto wash my skin and anoint myself with oil;\nfor the gods who hold Olympus have destroyed my beauty,\never since that man went in the hollow ships.\nBut bid Autonoe and Hippodamia\ncome to me, that they may stand beside me in the hall;\nI will not go alone among men; for I am ashamed.\nSo she spoke, and the old woman went through the hall\nto tell the women and urge them to come.\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, thought of another thing:\nshe poured sweet sleep upon the daughter of Icarius,\nand she slept, laid back, and all her joints were loosened\nthere on the couch; meanwhile the shining goddess\ngave immortal gifts, that the Achaeans might marvel at her.\nFirst she cleansed her fair face with beauty,\nwith ambrosial oil, such as fair-crowned Cytherea\nanoints herself with when she goes to the lovely dance of the Graces;\nand she made her taller and fuller to look upon,\nand made her whiter than sawn ivory.\nSo having done this the shining goddess departed,\nand the white-armed handmaids came from the hall\nwith voices as they came; and sweet sleep released her,\nand she wiped her cheeks with her hands and spoke:\nAh, a soft slumber has covered me, deeply stricken as I am.\nWould that holy Artemis would grant me so soft a death\neven now, so that I might no longer, grieving in my heart,\nwear away my life, longing for my dear husband\nof every excellence, since he was outstanding among the Achaeans.\nSo speaking she came down the shining upper stairs,\nnot alone; two handmaids followed with her.\nAnd when the shining one among women came to the suitors,\nshe stood by the doorpost of the well-built roof,\nholding her shining veil before her cheeks;\nand a faithful handmaid stood on either side of her.\nTheir knees were loosed on the spot, and their hearts were charmed with desire,\nand all prayed to lie beside her in bed.\nAnd she addressed Telemachus, her dear son:\nTelemachus, your mind is no longer steadfast, nor your thought;\nwhen you were still a child you managed your thoughts with more sense;\nbut now, when you are grown and have reached the measure of youth,\nand one might say you were the son of a blessed man,\nlooking at your size and beauty, even a stranger,\nyour thoughts are no longer seemly, nor your mind.\nWhat a deed has been done in the hall,\nthat you let the stranger be so shamefully treated.\nHow now, if a stranger in our own house\nsitting here should suffer such from painful dragging about?\nIt would be disgrace and shame for you among men.\nThen discreet Telemachus answered her:\nMother, I do not blame you for being angry;\nbut I myself perceive in my heart and know each thing,\nboth good and worse; before I was still a child.\nBut I cannot see all things wisely;\nfor these men sitting by me strike me from this side and that,\nthese who think evil, and there are none to help me.\nYet the battle of the stranger and Irus did not happen\nby the will of the suitors; he was the stronger by force.\nWould that, father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,\nso now the suitors in our house\nmight nod their heads in subjection, some in the courtyard,\nsome within the house, and each man's limbs be loosened,\nas now that Irus at the courtyard doors\nsits nodding with his head, like a drunken man,\nand cannot stand upright on his feet, nor go\nhome, where his way home is, since his dear limbs are loosened.\nSo these two spoke such words to each other;\nand Eurymachus addressed Penelope with words:\nDaughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\nif all the Achaeans throughout Iasian Argos saw you,\nmore suitors would feast in your house\nfrom the dawn, since you surpass all women\nin beauty and stature and in the mind within you.\nThen wise Penelope answered him:\nEurymachus, the immortals destroyed my excellence\nand beauty and form, when the Argives went up\nto Ilium, and with them went my husband Odysseus.\nIf that man came and cared for my life,\nmy glory would be greater and fairer so.\nBut now I grieve; for a deity has heaped so many evils on me.\nIndeed, when he went leaving his fatherland behind,\nhe took my hand by the wrist and spoke to me:\nWife, I do not think the well-greaved Achaeans\nwill all return safely unscathed from Troy;\nfor they say the Trojans are fighting men,\nboth spearmen and shooters of arrows,\nand riders of swift-footed horses, who most quickly\ndecide the great strife of leveling war.\nSo I do not know whether a god will release me, or I shall be taken\nthere in Troy; and let all things here be your care.\nRemember my father and mother in the hall,\nas now, or even more, while I am far away;\nand when you see our son bearded,\nmarry whom you wish, leaving your house behind.\nSo he spoke; and now all this is being accomplished.\nThere will be a night when a hateful marriage will meet me\nin my accursed case, from whom Zeus has taken away prosperity.\nBut this dread grief comes on my heart and spirit:\nthis was not the custom of suitors in former times;\nthose who wish to woo a good woman and a rich man's daughter\nand vie with one another,\nthemselves bring cattle and sturdy sheep,\na feast for the maiden's friends, and give shining gifts;\nthey do not eat up another's livelihood without payment.\nSo she spoke, and much-enduring, brilliant Odysseus rejoiced,\nbecause she drew gifts from them, and charmed their hearts\nwith gentle words, while her mind intended other things.\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, addressed her:\nDaughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\nwhatever Achaean wishes to bring gifts here,\naccept it; for it is not noble to refuse a gift;\nbut we will not go to our work, nor anywhere else,\nbefore you marry whichever Achaean is best.\nSo spoke Antinous, and the word pleased them;\nand each sent a herald to bring gifts.\nFor Antinous he brought a great, very beautiful robe,\nembroidered; and in it were twelve brooches, all\nof gold, fitted with well-bent clasps.\nAnd for Eurymachus he brought at once a richly wrought necklace,\nof gold strung with amber, like the sun.\nAnd for Eurydamas two servants brought earrings,\nwith three beads, wrought with care; and much grace shone from them.\nAnd from Pisander, son of Polyctor, the prince,\na servant brought a necklace, a very beautiful ornament.\nAnd each of the other Achaeans brought a fair gift.\nThen the shining one among women went up to the upper rooms,\nand her handmaids carried the very beautiful gifts with her;\nand the men turned to dancing and lovely song,\nand took their pleasure, and waited for evening to come.\nAnd as they took their pleasure, dark evening came upon them.\nAt once they set three torches in the hall,\nto give light; and around them they put dry wood,\nlong dried, seasoned, newly split with bronze,\nand mixed in pine splinters; and in turn they kept the flames alive,\nthe maidservants of much-enduring Odysseus. But he\nhimself, god-born, much-devising Odysseus, said to them:\nMaidens of Odysseus, whose master has long been gone,\ngo to the rooms where your revered queen is;\nand beside her whirl the spindles, and delight her\nas you sit in the hall, or card wool with your hands;\nand I will provide light for all these men.\nFor even if they wish to wait for well-throned Dawn,\nthey will not overcome me; for I am very much-enduring.\nSo he spoke, and they laughed, and looked at one another.\nFair-cheeked Melantho rebuked him shamefully,\nher whom Dolius fathered, but Penelope raised,\nand cherished like a child, and gave her toys to please her heart;\nbut even so she had no grief for Penelope in her mind,\nbut she lay with Eurymachus and loved him.\nShe rebuked Odysseus with reproachful words:\nWretched stranger, you are surely some man whose wits are stunned,\nyou are not willing to go sleep in the smithy\nor somewhere in a public portico, but here you talk a great deal,\nboldly among many men, and in your heart\nyou fear nothing; either wine has hold of your wits, or always\nyour mind is such; and so you talk idly.\nAre you beside yourself because you beat Irus the beggar?\nLest someone better than Irus soon rise against you,\nwho, striking you about the head with sturdy hands,\nmay send you out of the house, defiling you with much blood.\nGlowering at her, much-devising Odysseus said:\nSoon will I tell Telemachus, you dog, what you are saying,\ngoing to him, that he may cut you limb from limb.\nSo speaking, he terrified the women with his words.\nThey went through the house, and each woman's limbs were loosened\nwith terror; for they thought he had spoken the truth.\nBut he, giving light beside the burning torches,\nstood looking toward them all; and his heart pondered\nin his breast other things, which were not to be unaccomplished.\nAnd Athena did not allow the suitors, proud as they were,\nto refrain from heart-paining outrage, so that yet more\ngrief might enter the heart of Laertes' son Odysseus.\nAmong them Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak,\ntaunting Odysseus; and he made laughter for his comrades.\nHear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,\nthat I may say what my heart in my breast commands me.\nNot without a god has this man come to Odysseus' house;\nindeed it seems to me there is a gleam of torches from him,\nfrom his head, since he has no hair on it, not even a little.\nSo he spoke, and at the same time addressed Odysseus, sacker of cities:\nStranger, would you be willing to serve as a laborer, if I took you on,\non the edge of the farm, and your wage will be sufficient,\ngathering stones for walls and planting tall trees?\nThere I would provide you grain in plenty,\nand clothe you in garments and give you shoes for your feet.\nBut since you have learned base works, you will not be willing\nto go about a task, but you would rather cringe through the country\nin order to have means to feed your insatiable belly.\nAnswering him, much-devising Odysseus said:\nEurymachus, if only there were a contest of work between us two\nin the spring season, when the days grow long,\nin the meadow, and I held a well-curved sickle,\nand you held such a one too, that we might make trial of the work\nfasting until the very dusk, with grass in plenty.\nOr if there were cattle to drive, the very best,\ntawny, large, both glutted with grass,\nof the same age, equal in strength, and their might not feeble,\nand there were a four-acre field, and the soil yielded to the plow,\nthen you would see me, if I cut a straight furrow through.\nOr if the son of Cronos should stir up war from somewhere\ntoday, and I had a shield and two spears\nand a helmet all of bronze, fitted to my temples,\nthen you would see me mingling among the foremost champions,\nand you would not speak reproaching me with my belly.\nBut you are very insolent, and your mind is harsh;\nand you think you are some great and mighty man,\nbecause you keep company with few men, and those not good.\nBut if Odysseus came and reached his fatherland,\nquickly would the doorway, though very broad it is,\ngrow narrow for you as you flee out through the porch.\nSo he spoke, and Eurymachus grew angrier in his heart,\nand glowering at him spoke winged words:\nAh wretch, soon will I work you evil for what you say\nso boldly among many men, and in your heart\nyou fear nothing; either wine has hold of your wits, or always\nyour mind is such; and so you talk idly.\nAre you beside yourself because you beat Irus the beggar?\nSo speaking he seized a footstool; but Odysseus\nsat down at the knees of Amphinomus of Dulichium,\nin fear of Eurymachus; and he struck the cupbearer's right hand,\nand the pitcher fell to the ground with a clang,\nand he groaned and fell on his back in the dust.\nThe suitors clamored through the shadowy halls,\nand thus one would speak, looking at his neighbor:\nWould that the wandering stranger had perished elsewhere\nbefore he came; then he would not have raised so much din.\nBut now we quarrel about beggars, and there will be no\npleasure in the good feast, since the worse prevails.\nThen the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke among them:\nStrange men, you are mad, and no longer hide in your hearts\nfood or drink; surely some god is stirring you up.\nBut having feasted well, go home and lie down,\nwhenever your heart bids you; I drive no one away.\nSo he spoke, and all bit their lips with their teeth\nand marveled at Telemachus, that he spoke so boldly.\nThen Amphinomus spoke and addressed them,\nthe shining son of Nisus, son of lord Aretias:\nFriends, surely no one would be angry, attacking with contentious words,\nat what has been justly said;\ndo not strike the stranger, nor any other\nof the servants who are in the house of divine Odysseus.\nBut come, let the cupbearer begin with the cups,\nthat having made libation we may go home and lie down;\nand let us leave the stranger in the halls of Odysseus\nto be cared for by Telemachus; for he has come to his dear house.\nSo he spoke, and said a word pleasing to them all.\nAnd the hero Mulius mixed a bowl for them,\na herald of Dulichium; he was a servant of Amphinomus;\nand he distributed it to all in turn; and they, to the gods\nhaving made libation to the blessed ones, drank honey-sweet wine.\nBut when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,\nthey went each to his own house to lie down.\n\n### Book 19\n\nBut he was left behind within the hall, the noble Odysseus,\nbrooding in his heart on the slaying of the suitors with Athena's aid.\nThen straightway he spoke winged words to Telemachus:\nTelemachus, the gear of war must be laid up within the house,\nall of it; and the suitors you must soothe with soft words\nand beguile, when they question you in their longing for it.\nI have laid it out of the smoke, since no longer are they like\nwhat Odysseus left behind when he went off to Troy,\nbut they are soiled, as far as the blast of the fire has reached.\nAnd besides, a god has put this greater thought in my heart,\nlest in your wine, stirring up strife among you,\nyou wound one another and bring shame upon the feast\nand the wooing; for iron of itself draws a man on.\nSo he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his own dear father,\nand he called the nurse Eurycleia aside and spoke to her:\nNurse, come now, shut the women within the halls for me,\nuntil I lay up in the chamber my father's weapons,\nthe fair arms, which the smoke in the house spoils uncared for,\nmy father being gone away; and I was still a child.\nBut now I wish to lay them up, where the blast of fire will not reach them.\nThen the dear nurse Eurycleia spoke to him in turn:\nAh, if only, my child, you would take thought at last\nto care for the house and guard all the possessions.\nBut come, who then will go and bring a light for you?\nYou did not let the maids come forward, who might have shown a torch.\nThen the prudent Telemachus answered her face to face:\nThis stranger here; for I will not endure an idle man, whoever\nlays hands on my rations, even though he has come from far away.\nSo he spoke, and her word flew away unwinged.\nHe shut the doors of the well-built halls.\nThen the two sprang up, Odysseus and his glorious son,\nand carried in the helmets and the bossed shields\nand the sharp-pointed spears; and before them Pallas Athena,\nholding a golden lamp, made a most beautiful light.\nThen Telemachus straightway spoke to his father:\nFather, truly this is a great marvel that I see with my eyes.\nNevertheless the walls of the hall and the fair cross-beams,\nand the fir-pitched rafters, and the columns rising high,\nappear to my eyes as if they were of blazing fire.\nSurely some god is within, one of those who hold wide heaven.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nBe silent, and hold it in your own mind, and do not ask questions;\nthis is the way of the gods, who hold Olympus.\nBut do you lie down, and I will stay behind here,\nso that I may yet stir up the maids and your mother;\nand in her grief she will ask me of each thing in turn.\nSo he spoke, and Telemachus had gone through the hall\nto lie down in his chamber, beneath the blazing torches,\nwhere before he used to sleep, when sweet sleep came upon him;\nthere then he lay down too and waited for the shining Dawn.\nBut he was left behind within the hall, the noble Odysseus,\nbrooding in his heart on the slaying of the suitors with Athena's aid.\nThen the wise Penelope came from her chamber,\nlike Artemis or golden Aphrodite.\nBeside her they set a chair by the fire, where she sat down,\ninlaid with ivory and silver; which once a craftsman,\nIcmalius, made, and he put a footstool beneath her feet\ngrowing from it, whereon a great fleece was thrown.\nThere then the wise Penelope sat down.\nAnd the white-armed maids came from the hall.\nThey took away the abundant grain and the tables,\nand the cups, from which the proud men drank;\nand they threw the fire from the torches down to the ground, and upon them\nthey piled much wood, to be a light and to give warmth.\nThen Melantho scolded Odysseus a second time again:\nStranger, will you still trouble us here through the night,\nwhirling about the house, and spying on the women?\nGet out of doors, wretch, and have your fill of the feast;\nor soon you may be struck with a firebrand and go out.\nThen much-devising Odysseus spoke, looking at her darkly:\nWoman, why do you hold such wrath against me in your heart?\nBecause I am dirty and wear foul clothing on my body,\nand I beg through the land? Necessity drives me on.\nSuch are the poor and wandering men;\nfor I too once lived in a house among men,\nblessed and wealthy, and often I gave to a wanderer,\nsuch as he might be and whatever he came needing;\nand I had countless slaves, and many other things besides,\nwith which men live well and are called wealthy.\nBut Cronion Zeus destroyed it all; for so he wished, I suppose.\nTherefore never, lady, may you lose all\nthe glory that you now have among the maidservants.\nLest the mistress in her anger be harsh with you,\nor Odysseus come; for there is still a portion of hope.\nBut if he has perished so and is no longer to return,\nyet now there is such a son, by Apollo's grace,\nTelemachus; and him no woman in the halls\nescapes notice when she plays the wanton, since no longer is he a child.\nSo he spoke, and the wise Penelope heard him,\nand she scolded her handmaid, and spoke a word and called her by name:\nBold and shameless dog, no great deed of yours\nescapes me, and on your own head you shall wipe it out.\nFor you knew all this well, since you heard it from me myself\nthat I was about to ask the stranger in my halls\nabout my husband, since I am bitterly grieved.\nSo she spoke, and to the housekeeper Eurynome she said:\nEurynome, bring a chair now and a fleece upon it,\nso that sitting down the stranger may speak a word and hear\nfrom me; for I wish to question him.\nSo she spoke, and she very eagerly brought and set down\na well-polished chair, and threw a fleece over it;\nthere then the much-enduring noble Odysseus sat down.\nAnd among them the wise Penelope began the words:\nStranger, first of all I myself will ask you this:\nwho and from where among men are you? Where is your city and your parents?\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nLady, no man upon the boundless earth could blame you;\nfor truly your fame reaches wide heaven,\nas of some blameless king, who, fearing the gods,\nruling over many men and mighty ones,\nupholds good judgements, and the black earth bears\nwheat and barley, and the trees are heavy with fruit,\nand the flocks bear young steadily, and the sea gives fish\nbecause of his good leadership, and the people prosper under him.\nSo question me about the other things in your house,\nbut do not ask about my race and my native land,\nlest you fill my heart with still more pains\nas I remember; for I am very sorrowful; and it is not right for me\nin another's house to sit weeping and wailing,\nsince it is worse to mourn endlessly and forever.\nLest one of the maids resent me, or you yourself,\nand say that I am swimming in tears, my mind heavy with wine.\nThen the wise Penelope answered him:\nStranger, truly the immortals destroyed my virtue and my form\nand my body, when the Argives went up into Ilion,\nand among them went my own husband Odysseus.\nIf that man should come and care for my life,\nmy fame would be greater and fairer so.\nBut now I grieve; for a god has poured so many sorrows upon me.\nFor all the best men who rule the islands,\nDulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus,\nand those who dwell around Ithaca itself with its fair prospect,\nthey court me against my will, and wear out my house.\nTherefore I pay no heed to strangers or suppliants\nor any heralds, who are public servants;\nbut longing for Odysseus, my dear husband, my heart melts away.\nThey hurry on the marriage; but I unravel my deceits.\nFirst a god breathed into my heart a robe —\nwhen I had set up a great loom, to weave in the halls —\nfine and very broad; and at once I spoke to them:\nYoung men, my suitors, since the noble Odysseus is dead,\nwait, eager though you are for my marriage, until I finish\nthis robe — lest my weaving be wasted —\na shroud for the hero Laertes, when the deadly doom\nof long-drawn death lays him low;\nlest any of the Achaean women in the land resent me,\nif one who has gained so much should lie without a shroud.\nSo I spoke, and their proud hearts were persuaded.\nThen by day I wove at the great loom,\nand by night I unwove it, when I had set the torches beside me.\nSo for three years I hid it and persuaded the Achaeans;\nbut when the fourth year came and the seasons came round,\nas the months waned and many days were accomplished,\nthen at last through my maids, the shameless dogs,\nthey came upon me and caught me and scolded me with words.\nSo I finished it under compulsion, though unwilling;\nbut now I can neither escape the marriage nor find\nany other plan; my parents strongly urge me\nto marry, and my son chafes, seeing his substance\neaten away; for now he is a man, quite able\nto care for the house, and Zeus grants him glory.\nBut even so, tell me your lineage, from where you are.\nFor you are not from the much-talked-of oak nor from a stone.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nLady revered, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,\nwill you never cease asking about my birth?\nCome, I will tell you; yet truly you will give me over to more pains\nthan I now hold; for such is the custom, when a man\nis far from his own country for as long a time as I am now,\nwandering over many cities of men, suffering griefs.\nBut even so I will tell you what you ask and inquire about.\nThere is a land called Crete, in the midst of the wine-dark sea,\nfair and rich, sea-girt; and in it are men\nmany, beyond counting, and ninety cities.\nAnd one tongue is mixed with another; there are Achaeans,\nthere are great-hearted Eteocretans, there are Cydonians,\nand the threefold Dorians and the noble Pelasgians.\nAmong these is Knossos, a great city, where Minos\nruled as a nine-year king, the confidant of great Zeus,\nthe father of my father, great-hearted Deucalion.\nAnd Deucalion begot me and King Idomeneus.\nBut he went with the curved ships to Ilion\nalong with the Atreidae, and my glorious name is Aethon,\nyounger in birth; but he was older and better.\nThere I saw Odysseus and gave him guest-gifts.\nFor the force of the wind brought him down to Crete,\nas he was bound for Troy, driving him off course past Malea;\nand he anchored at Amnisos, where the cave of Eileithyia is,\nin difficult harbours, and hardly did he escape the storm.\nAt once I went up to the city and asked for Idomeneus;\nfor he said that he was a dear and honoured friend of his.\nBut it was already the tenth or eleventh dawn\nsince he had gone with the curved ships to Ilion.\nHim I led to my house and entertained well,\nloving him kindly, since there was plenty in the house;\nand to him and the other comrades who followed with him\nI gave barley from the public stores and gleaming wine, gathering it,\nand cattle to sacrifice, so that they might fill their hearts.\nThere the noble Achaeans stayed twelve days;\nfor the great North Wind held them, nor on the land\nwould it let them stand, and some harsh god roused it.\nOn the thirteenth day the wind fell, and they put out to sea.\nAnd he made many falsehoods, speaking them like the truth;\nand as she listened the tears flowed, and her flesh melted away;\nas snow melts upon the high-crested mountains,\nwhich the East Wind melts, when the West Wind pours it down,\nand as it melts the rivers run full in their flowing;\nso her fair cheeks melted as she poured out tears,\nweeping for her husband who sat beside her. But Odysseus\nin his heart pitied his weeping wife,\nbut his eyes stood like horn or iron,\nunmoving beneath his lids; and by cunning he hid his tears.\nAnd when she had taken her fill of much-lamented weeping,\nthen again she answered him with words and said:\nNow truly, stranger, I think I shall test you,\nwhether you truly entertained there in your halls my husband\nwith his godlike comrades, as you say.\nTell me what clothing he wore about his body,\nand what he himself was like, and the comrades who followed with him.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nLady, it is hard, being apart for so long a time,\nto tell it; for already it is the twentieth year\nsince he went from there and left my country.\nBut I will tell you as it appears to my heart.\nA purple mantle, shaggy, the noble Odysseus wore,\ndouble-folded; and a brooch for it was made of gold\nwith double sheaths; and on the front there was a cunning device:\nin his forepaws a dog held a dappled fawn,\ngripping it as it struggled; and all marvelled at it,\nhow, though they were of gold, the one gripped and throttled the fawn,\nwhile the other struggled with its feet, eager to escape.\nAnd I marked the tunic upon his body, shining,\nlike the skin of a dried onion;\nso soft it was, and it shone like the sun;\nindeed many women marvelled at it.\nAnd another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:\nI do not know whether Odysseus wore these about his body at home,\nor some comrade gave them to him as he set out on the swift ship,\nor some stranger, since Odysseus was dear\nto many; for few of the Achaeans were like him.\nAnd I gave him a bronze sword and a double cloak,\nfair and purple, and a fringed tunic,\nand I sent him off with honour on the well-benched ship.\nAnd a herald followed him, a little older than himself;\nand him too I will tell you what he was like.\nRound-shouldered, dark-skinned, curly-haired,\nEurybates was his name; and Odysseus honoured him above the others\nof his comrades, because he knew what was fitting in his heart.\nSo he spoke, and roused in her yet more desire for weeping,\nas she recognised the sure tokens that Odysseus had told her.\nAnd when she had taken her fill of much-lamented weeping,\nthen she answered him with words and said:\nNow truly, stranger, though before you were pitiable,\nin my halls you shall be dear and honoured;\nfor I myself gave those clothes, which you describe,\nfolding them from the chamber, and I put on the shining brooch\nto be a delight to him; but I shall not welcome him again\ncoming home to his dear native land.\nTherefore with an evil fate Odysseus went on the hollow ship\nto look upon evil Ilion, not to be named.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nLady revered, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,\nno longer now destroy your fair flesh, nor melt your heart\naway, weeping for your husband. I do not blame you at all;\nfor any woman weeps for a husband she has lost,\na wedded one, to whom she bore children in love,\neven for Odysseus, whom they say is like the gods.\nBut cease from weeping, and hear my word;\nfor I will tell you truly and will not conceal it,\nhow I have already heard of the return of Odysseus\nclose by, in the rich land of the Thesprotian men,\nthat he lives; and he is bringing many good treasures,\ngathering them by begging through the land. But his trusty comrades\nhe lost, and the hollow ship, in the wine-dark sea,\ncoming from the island of Thrinacia; for Zeus and Helios\nwere angry with him; for his comrades killed the cattle of Helios.\nThey all perished in the much-surging sea;\nbut him the wave cast up on the keel of the ship onto dry land,\nto the land of the Phaeacians, who are near to the gods,\nwho honoured him from their hearts like a god\nand gave him many gifts, and themselves wished to send him\nhome unharmed. And Odysseus would have been here long ago;\nbut that seemed to him in his heart to be more profitable,\nto gather wealth as he went over much land;\nso greatly does Odysseus know the many gains of mortal men,\nnor could any other mortal strive with him.\nSo the king of the Thesprotians, Pheidon, told me;\nand he swore to me himself, pouring a libation in his house,\nthat the ship was drawn down and the crew ready,\nwho would send him to his dear native land.\nBut he sent me away first; for a ship happened to be coming\nof Thesprotian men to Dulichium, rich in wheat.\nAnd he showed me the treasure, all that Odysseus had gathered;\nand it would feed another to the tenth generation,\nso much treasure of the king lay in his halls.\nAnd he said that he had gone to Dodona, so that from the god's\noak of Zeus with its high foliage he might hear the counsel,\nhow he should return to his dear native land,\nhaving been away so long already, whether openly or in secret.\nSo he is thus safe and will come here now,\nvery near, and no longer far from his friends and his native land\nwill he be long away; and yet I will give you oaths.\nLet Zeus be my witness now, first of the gods, highest and best,\nand the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have reached;\ntruly all this will be accomplished as I speak.\nWithin this very waxing of the year Odysseus will come here,\nas this month wanes and the next begins.\nThen the wise Penelope answered him and said:\nAh, if only, stranger, that word were accomplished!\nThen you would soon know friendship and many gifts\nfrom me, so that whoever met you would call you blessed.\nBut my heart forebodes this, how it will be:\nthat Odysseus will no longer come home, nor will you\nget an escort, since there are no such men as guides in the house\nas Odysseus was among men, if ever he existed,\nto send honoured strangers away and to welcome them.\nBut come, maids, wash him, and set up a bed for him,\nbedding and blankets and shining rugs,\nso that he may come to golden-throned Dawn warm and well.\nAnd at dawn, very early, wash him and anoint him with oil,\nso that he may sit within beside Telemachus and take thought of the meal,\nsitting in the hall; and it will go worse for whoever\nof those men grieves this man with heart-destroying words; and no work\nwill he do here any longer, however terribly angry he may be.\nFor how shall you learn from me, stranger, whether I surpass\nthe other women in mind and prudent counsel,\nif you dine in my halls unwashed and clad in foul clothing?\nAnd men are short-lived creatures.\nHe who is harsh himself and knows harsh thoughts,\nall mortals curse him with sorrows for the time to come\nwhile he lives, and when he is dead they all mock him.\nBut he who is blameless himself and knows blameless thoughts,\nstrangers carry his wide fame\nover all men, and many call him a good man.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nLady revered, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,\ntruly to me cloaks and shining rugs\nhave been hateful, ever since I first left the snowy mountains\nof Crete, going on a long-oared ship,\nand I lie down as I used to lie through sleepless nights;\nfor many nights I have spent on an unseemly bed\nand waited for the fair-throned shining Dawn.\nNor does a footbath of feet that pleases my heart\ncome to me; nor shall any woman touch my foot\nof those who are your serving women in the house,\nunless there is some old woman, knowing sound things,\nwho has endured in her heart as much as I have;\nI would not begrudge her touching my feet.\nThen the wise Penelope answered him and said:\nDear stranger, for never yet has any sensible man\nof far-off friends come to my house\nas you so graciously speak all things with wisdom.\nI have an old woman who holds prudent counsels in her heart,\nwho once nursed that unhappy man well and cherished him,\nreceiving him in her arms when his mother first bore him;\nshe shall wash your feet, though she is feeble now.\nBut come now, arise, wise Eurycleia,\nwash your master's age-mate; and perhaps Odysseus\nis already like this in his feet and like this in his hands;\nfor in misery men quickly grow old.\nSo she spoke, and the old woman covered her face with her hands,\nand shed warm tears, and spoke a doleful word:\nOh, woe is me for you, child, helpless as I am; truly Zeus\nhas hated you, though you had a god-fearing heart.\nFor never yet has any mortal gladdened Zeus who delights in thunder\nwith so much rich thigh-bone and chosen hecatombs\nas you gave him, praying that you might reach a sleek\nold age and raise a glorious son;\nbut now he has taken from you alone the day of your return.\nSo too, I suppose, women mocked that man\nwhen he came to anyone's glorious house, a far-off stranger,\njust as these dogs here all mock you;\nand avoiding their abuse and much shame,\nyou do not let them wash you; but the daughter of Icarius,\nthe wise Penelope, has ordered me, and not against my will.\nSo I will wash your feet both for Penelope's sake\nand for your sake, since my heart within me is stirred\nby cares. But come now, mark the word that I shall speak:\nmany long-suffering strangers have come here,\nbut never yet, I say, have I seen anyone so like\nas you are like Odysseus in body and voice and feet.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nOld woman, so say all who have seen us both\nwith their own eyes, that we are very like each other,\nas you yourself in your prudence say.\nSo he spoke; and the old woman took the shining basin\nand began washing his feet; and she poured in much\ncold water, then stirred in hot. But Odysseus\nsat by the hearth, and quickly turned toward the darkness;\nfor suddenly in his heart he suspected that, taking hold of him,\nshe might notice the scar and the matter become plain.\nShe came near and washed her master; and at once she knew\nthe scar, which a boar had once struck with its white tusk\nwhen he went to Parnassus to Autolycus and his sons,\nhis mother's noble father, who surpassed men\nin thievery and in oaths; and the god himself had given him this,\nHermes; for to him he burned acceptable thigh-bones\nof lambs and kids; and the god attended him willingly.\nAnd Autolycus came to the rich land of Ithaca\nand found a new-born child of his daughter;\nand Eurycleia laid him on the dear knees\nas he was finishing his supper, and spoke a word and named him:\nAutolycus, do you yourself now find a name to give\nto your dear daughter's child; he is much prayed for.\nThen Autolycus answered her and spoke:\nMy son-in-law and my daughter, give him whatever name I say;\nfor I have come here having angered many,\nmen and women too, over the much-nourishing earth;\nso let his name be Odysseus, the name of odium; and I myself,\nwhen he grows up into manhood and comes\nto his mother's great house at Parnassus, where my treasures are,\nI will give him them and send him away glad.\nFor this reason Odysseus came, so that he might receive the glorious gifts.\nThen Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus\nwelcomed him with their hands and with gentle words;\nand his mother Amphithea, clinging to the mother of Odysseus,\nkissed him on the head and on both his fair eyes.\nAnd Autolycus called to his glorious sons\nto prepare a feast; and they heard him urging them on,\nand at once they brought in a bull, male and five years old;\nthey flayed it and dressed it, and cut it all up,\nand chopped it skillfully and fixed the pieces on spits,\nand roasted it carefully, and divided the portions.\nSo then all day long until the setting of the sun\nthey feasted, and their heart lacked nothing of the equal feast;\nand when the sun set and darkness came on,\nthen they lay down and took the gift of sleep.\nAnd when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthey went off to the hunt, both the dogs and the sons\nof Autolycus themselves; and with them the noble Odysseus\nwent; and they came up the steep mountain, clothed in forest,\nof Parnassus, and soon reached its windy folds.\nAnd the Sun was then just striking the fields anew\nfrom the softly flowing, deep-flowing Ocean,\nand the hunters came into a glen; and before them\nthe dogs went, tracking the steps, and behind them\nthe sons of Autolycus; and with them the noble Odysseus\nwent close to the hounds, brandishing a far-shadowing spear.\nThere in a thick thicket a great boar lay couched;\nthis place neither the wet fury of the blowing winds\ncould pass through, nor did the shining Sun strike it with its rays,\nnor did the rain pass through; so dense it was,\nand there was a heap of fallen leaves, abundantly deep.\nThen the noise of the feet of men and dogs came around it,\nas they pressed on toward it; and the boar came out of the thicket to face them,\nits bristles raised well along its back, glaring fire with its eyes,\nand it stood close to them; and Odysseus, first of all,\nrushed forward, raising the long spear in his stout hand,\neager to wound it; but the boar got in first and struck him\nabove the knee, and ripped off much flesh with its tusk,\nleaping sideways, but it did not reach the man's bone.\nAnd Odysseus struck it, hitting it on the right shoulder,\nand the point of the shining spear went straight through;\nand it fell in the dust with a groan, and its spirit flew away.\nThen the dear sons of Autolycus attended to it,\nand the wound of the blameless, godlike Odysseus\nthey bound skillfully, and with a charm they stopped the dark blood,\nand quickly they came to the house of his dear father.\nThen Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus,\nhaving healed him well and given him glorious gifts,\nsent him away gladly and swiftly to his native land,\nto Ithaca. And his father and queenly mother\nrejoiced at his return and asked him about everything,\nand about the scar and how he came by it; and he told them well\nhow the boar had struck him as he hunted with its white tusk,\nwhen he had gone to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.\nThis the old woman took in her hands, palms flat,\nand knew it as she felt it, and let the foot fall;\nand the shin fell into the basin, and the bronze rang out,\nand it tipped back the other way; and the water poured out on the ground.\nThen joy and grief seized her heart at once, and her two eyes\nfilled with tears, and her full voice was checked.\nShe touched his chin and spoke to Odysseus:\nTruly you are Odysseus, dear child; and I did not recognise you\nbefore, until I had touched all of my master.\nSo she spoke, and looked with her eyes at Penelope,\nwishing to tell her that her dear husband was within.\nBut she could neither look at her face to face nor notice her;\nfor Athena had turned her mind; but Odysseus\nfelt for her throat and seized it with his right hand,\nand with the other drew her closer to himself and spoke:\nNurse, why do you wish to destroy me? You yourself nursed me\nat your own breast; and now, after suffering many sorrows,\nI have come in the twentieth year to my native land.\nBut since you have perceived it and a god put it in your heart,\nbe silent, lest any other in the halls learn of it.\nFor I will tell you this, and it will surely be accomplished:\nif a god subdues the proud suitors under me,\nI will not hold back from you, though you are my nurse, when I\nkill the other women slaves in my halls.\nThen the wise Eurycleia answered him and said:\nMy child, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth!\nYou know how firm and unyielding my spirit is,\nand I will hold it like solid stone or iron.\nAnd another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:\nif a god subdues the proud suitors under you,\nthen I will tell you the women in the halls,\nthose who dishonour you and those who are blameless.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nNurse, why should you tell me of them? There is no need at all.\nWell, I myself will look into it and will know each one;\nbut keep the matter silent, and leave it to the gods.\nSo he spoke, and the old woman had gone through the hall\nto fetch the footbath; for all the earlier water had been spilled.\nBut when she had washed him and anointed him richly with oil,\nagain Odysseus drew his chair closer to the fire\nto warm himself, and hid the scar under his rags.\nThen the wise Penelope began the words among them:\nStranger, I myself will ask you a little more;\nfor soon will be the hour of pleasant rest,\nwhen sweet sleep seizes a man, even one in sorrow.\nBut for me a god has given measureless grief;\nfor by day I take my pleasure in weeping and wailing,\nlooking at my own work and at the maids in the house;\nbut when night comes and sleep seizes everyone,\nI lie in my bed, and thick sharp cares around my throbbing heart\nstir me as I weep.\nAs when the daughter of Pandareus, the green-clad nightingale,\nsings beautifully when spring is newly come,\nsitting in the thick leaves of the trees,\nwho often turning about pours out her many-sounding voice,\nmourning her dear child Itylus, whom once with bronze\nshe killed in her folly, the son of lord Zethus,\nso too my heart rises in two ways, here and there,\nwhether I stay with my son and keep all things steadfast,\nmy possessions, my slaves, and my high-roofed great house,\nrespecting the bed of my husband and the voice of the people,\nor whether I now follow whichever of the Achaeans is best\nand courts me in the halls, offering countless bride-gifts.\nAnd my son, while he was still a child and foolish,\ndid not let me marry, leaving my husband's house;\nbut now that he is grown and has reached the measure of youth,\nhe prays me to go back out of the hall,\nchafing at the substance which the Achaeans devour.\nBut come, interpret my dream for me and hear it.\nI have twenty geese in the house eating wheat\nfrom the water, and I take delight in watching them;\nand a great hook-beaked eagle came from the mountain\nand broke all their necks and killed them; and they lay\nheaped together in the halls, while he rose into the shining sky.\nThen I wept and wailed, even in my dream,\nand around me gathered the fair-tressed Achaean women,\nas I lamented pitifully that the eagle had killed my geese.\nBut he came back and sat on the projecting roof-beam,\nand with a human voice he restrained me and spoke:\nTake courage, daughter of far-famed Icarius;\nthis is no dream but a good waking vision, which will be accomplished for you.\nThe geese are the suitors, and I, who was before a bird, an eagle,\nhave now come back as your husband,\nwho will set a shameful doom upon all the suitors.\nSo he spoke, and sweet sleep released me;\nbut I looked about and saw the geese in the halls\nfeeding on wheat beside the trough, where they were before.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nLady, it is in no way possible to interpret the dream\nturning it aside, since Odysseus himself has shown you\nhow he will fulfil it; and destruction appears\nto all the suitors, and none will escape death and the fates.\nThen the wise Penelope answered him and said:\nStranger, dreams truly are baffling and unclear in speech,\nnor does everything come true for men.\nFor there are two gates of shadowy dreams:\none pair is fashioned of horn, the others of ivory;\nthose that come through the sawn ivory,\nthey deceive, bearing words that are not accomplished;\nbut those that come out through the polished horn,\nthey bring true things to pass, whenever a mortal sees them.\nBut I do not think that my dread dream came from there;\ntruly it would be welcome to me and to my son.\nAnd another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:\nthis hateful dawn is coming, which will keep me\naway from Odysseus' house; for now I will set a contest,\nthose axes, which he used to set up in his own halls\nin a row, like ship's props, all twelve of them;\nand standing far off he used to shoot an arrow through them.\nNow I will set this contest for the suitors:\nwhoever most easily strings the bow in his hands\nand shoots an arrow through all twelve of the axes,\nwith him I will go, leaving this house,\nmy bridal home, very beautiful, full of life;\nwhich I think I shall remember even in my dreams.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nLady revered, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,\nno longer now put off this contest in the house;\nfor much-devising Odysseus will come here before\nthese men, handling this well-polished bow,\ncan string the string and shoot through the iron.\nThen the wise Penelope answered him and said:\nIf you would wish, stranger, sitting beside me in the halls,\nto delight me, sleep would never be poured upon my eyelids.\nBut it is in no way possible for men to be always\nsleepless; for the immortals have set a portion for each one\nof mortals upon the grain-giving earth.\nBut I will go up to the upper chamber\nand lie down in my bed, which has been made sorrowful for me,\nalways drenched with my tears, ever since Odysseus\nwent to look upon evil Ilion, not to be named.\nThere I will lie down; but do you lie down in this house,\neither making a bed on the ground or on the bedding they set out.\nSo saying she went up to the shining upper chamber,\nnot alone, for the other handmaids went with her.\nAnd going up to the upper room with the women attendants,\nshe wept then for Odysseus, her dear husband, until\nbright-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.\n\n### Book 20\n\nBut he laid him down to sleep in the forecourt, the noble Odysseus,\nand beneath him he spread a hardened oxhide, and over it\nmany fleeces of sheep, which the Achaeans were wont to slaughter;\nand Eurynome cast a cloak over him as he lay.\nThere Odysseus, devising evil in his heart against the suitors,\nlay wakeful; and the women out of the great hall\ncame forth, they who aforetime had lain with the suitors,\ngiving laughter and mirth to one another.\nAnd his spirit was stirred within his own dear breast,\nand much he pondered in mind and in heart,\nwhether he should rush upon them and deal death to each,\nor suffer them yet once to lie with the proud suitors\nfor the last and utmost time; and his heart within him bayed.\nAnd as a bitch standing about her tender pups,\nwhen she knows not the man, bays and is eager for the fight,\nso his heart within him bayed, as he raged at their evil deeds;\nand smiting his breast he rebuked his heart with a word:\nEndure now, my heart; a thing more dog-like once you endured.\nOn the day when the Cyclops, whose fury none might check, devoured\nmy stalwart comrades; yet you endured, till your cunning\nbrought you forth from the cave, when you deemed you should die.\nSo he spoke, chiding his own dear heart within his breast;\nand his heart abode in obedience, enduring patiently\nwithout ceasing; but he himself kept turning hither and thither.\nAnd as when a man turns a paunch full of fat and blood\nover a great blazing fire, this way and that,\nand is very eager that it be swiftly roasted,\nso he turned him this way and that, pondering\nhow he should lay hands upon the shameless suitors,\nbeing but one against many. And near to him came Athena\ndescending from heaven; and her form she likened to a woman's;\nand she stood above his head and spoke a word to him:\nWhy now are you awake, most wretched of all mortals?\nThis is your house, and here within the house is your wife\nand your son, such a one as any man might long a son to be.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nYes, goddess, all this you have spoken in due measure;\nbut this my heart within my breast ponders,\nhow I shall lay hands upon the shameless suitors,\nbeing but one; and they abide within, ever in a throng.\nAnd moreover this yet greater thing I ponder in my heart:\nif I slay them by the will of Zeus and of you,\nwhither shall I flee away? I bid you consider this.\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:\nStubborn one, even one man trusts a weaker comrade,\nwho is but mortal and knows no such counsels as these;\nbut I am a god, who keep you safe continually\nin all your toils. And I will tell you plainly:\nthough fifty companies of mortal men\nshould compass us two about, eager to slay us in war,\neven their cattle would you drive off and their sturdy sheep.\nBut let sleep take you also; it is a grief to keep watch\nthe whole night through awake, and you shall soon slip out of your troubles.\nSo she spoke, and poured sleep upon his eyelids,\nand she herself went back to Olympus, the shining among goddesses.\nBut when sleep seized him, loosing the cares of his spirit,\nlimb-loosing sleep, his wife awoke, knowing wise things in her heart;\nand she wept, sitting up amid the soft bedding.\nBut when she was sated with weeping in her own heart,\nfirst of all she prayed to Artemis, the shining among women:\nArtemis, lady goddess, daughter of Zeus, would that now\nyou would smite my breast with an arrow and take away my life\nstraightway, or that a storm-wind snatching me up\nmight bear me off along the misty pathways,\nand cast me into the outpourings of the backward-flowing Ocean.\nAs when the storm-winds snatched away the daughters of Pandareus;\ntheir parents the gods destroyed, and they were left\norphaned in the halls, and shining Aphrodite tended them\nwith cheese and sweet honey and pleasant wine;\nand Hera gave them beauty beyond all women\nand understanding, and holy Artemis gave them stature,\nand Athena taught them to fashion glorious handiwork.\nWhen shining Aphrodite went up to tall Olympus\nto ask for the maidens the fulfilment of blossoming marriage—\nto Zeus who delights in thunder, for he knows all things well,\nboth the portion and the no-portion of earth-dwelling men—\nmeanwhile the Harpies snatched away the maidens\nand gave them to the hateful Erinyes to serve;\nso may the holders of Olympian homes make me vanish,\nor may fair-tressed Artemis smite me, that seeing Odysseus\neven so I might come beneath the hateful earth,\nand never gladden the mind of a lesser man.\nBut that evil at least is bearable, when one\nweeps by day, deeply grieving in heart,\nand sleep holds him by night—for it makes him forget all things,\nthe good alike and the evil, once it veils the eyelids—\nbut upon me a god has sent evil dreams also.\nFor this night there slept beside me one like unto him,\nsuch as he was when he went with the host; and my heart\nrejoiced, for I deemed it no dream, but waking truth.\nSo she spoke, and straightway golden-throned Dawn came.\nAnd the noble Odysseus heard the voice of her weeping;\nand he pondered thereafter, and it seemed to him in his heart\nthat she already knew him and stood at his head.\nAnd the cloak he gathered up, and the fleeces wherein he had slept,\nand laid them in the hall upon a chair, and the oxhide\nhe carried forth and set outside, and to Zeus he prayed with hands upraised:\nFather Zeus, if willingly over the dry land and the wet\nyou gods have led me to my own land, though you afflicted me sorely,\nlet someone of the waking people utter a word for me\nwithin, and outside let another sign of Zeus appear.\nSo he spoke in prayer; and wise Zeus heard him,\nand straightway he thundered from gleaming Olympus,\nfrom on high out of the clouds; and the noble Odysseus rejoiced.\nAnd a word a woman sent forth from the house, a grinder,\nhard by, where the mills of the shepherd of the people stood,\nand at them twelve women in all were toiling,\npreparing barley and meal, the marrow of men.\nThe others slept, since they had ground their wheat,\nbut one alone had not yet ceased, and she was the feeblest of them all;\nshe set her mill in place and uttered a word, a sign for the master:\nFather Zeus, who are lord over gods and men,\nloudly indeed you thundered from the starry sky,\nand nowhere is there a cloud; you show this as a sign to someone.\nFulfil now for me also, wretched as I am, the word that I shall speak:\nmay the suitors on this day, their last and utmost one,\nin the halls of Odysseus take their lovely dinner,\nwho with heart-grieving toil have loosened my knees\nas I prepared their barley; now let them dine for the last time.\nSo she spoke, and noble Odysseus rejoiced in the omen\nand in the thunder of Zeus; for he deemed that he would punish the sinners.\nAnd the other handmaids throughout the fair halls of Odysseus\ngathered and kindled on the hearth the tireless fire.\nAnd Telemachus arose from his bed, a man like unto a god,\nand put on his garments, and across his shoulder slung a sharp sword;\nand beneath his shining feet he bound fair sandals,\nand took a stout spear, pointed with sharp bronze;\nand he stood, coming to the threshold, and to Eurycleia he said:\nDear nurse, did you honour the stranger in the house\nwith bed and with food, or does he lie there unheeded?\nFor such is my mother, understanding though she be:\nat random she honours one man of mortal men,\na worse one, and sends a better away dishonoured.\nThen thoughtful Eurycleia answered him:\nYou would not now, child, blame him who is blameless.\nFor he drank wine as he sat, as long as his own heart wished,\nand said he was no longer hungry for food; for I questioned him.\nBut when he bethought him of bed and of sleep,\nI bade the handmaids spread bedding beneath him,\nbut he, as one utterly wretched and luckless,\nwould not consent to sleep in a bed and under rugs,\nbut upon a hardened oxhide and the fleeces of sheep\nhe slept in the forecourt; and we threw a cloak over him.\nSo she spoke, and Telemachus had passed through the hall\nholding his spear, and with him followed two swift dogs.\nHe went to the assembly place among the well-greaved Achaeans.\nAnd she in turn called to her handmaids, the shining among women,\nEurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor:\nBestir yourselves; do some of you sweep the house with bustling haste,\nand sprinkle it, and on the well-wrought chairs spread\npurple rugs; and others with sponges wipe\nall the tables, and cleanse the mixing bowls\nand the well-fashioned two-handled cups; and others go\nto the spring for water, and bring it back with speed.\nFor not for long will the suitors be away from the hall,\nbut very early will they come, since there is a feast for all.\nSo she spoke, and they heard her and obeyed.\nTwenty of them went to the dark-watered spring,\nand the others worked with skill about the house.\nAnd the labourers of the Achaeans came in. Then they\nsplit wood well and with skill, and the women\ncame back from the spring; and upon them came the swineherd\ndriving three fat hogs, which were the best among all.\nAnd he let them feed throughout the fair pens,\nand he himself in turn addressed Odysseus with gentle words:\nStranger, do the Achaeans now look upon you with more respect,\nor do they dishonour you in the hall, as heretofore?\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nEumaeus, would that the gods would avenge the outrage\nwhich these men in their insolence recklessly contrive\nin another's house, and have no share in shame.\nSo they spoke such words to one another,\nand close at hand came Melanthius, the goatherd of goats,\nbringing goats that were pre-eminent among all the herds,\nas a dinner for the suitors. And two herdsmen followed with him.\nAnd he tied them beneath the echoing portico,\nand he himself in turn addressed Odysseus with mocking words:\nStranger, will you still now vex us here throughout the house,\nbegging from men, and will you not go forth outside?\nIn any case I think the two of us shall no more be parted\nbefore we taste each other's hands, since you beg\nnot according to order; and there are other feasts of the Achaeans too.\nSo he spoke, and him much-devising Odysseus did not address at all,\nbut in silence shook his head, brooding evils deep within.\nAnd third after them came Philoetius, leader of men,\nbringing for the suitors a barren cow and fat goats.\nAnd ferrymen had brought them over, the very men who also send\nother people across, whoever comes to them.\nAnd these he tied well beneath the echoing portico,\nand he himself in turn questioned the swineherd, standing close beside him:\nWho is this stranger who has newly come, swineherd,\nto our house? And from what men does he claim\nto be sprung? And where are his birth and his native land?\nWretched man, yet in body he is like a king, a lord;\nbut the gods plunge into misery men of much wandering,\nwhensoever they spin out sorrow even for kings.\nHe spoke, and with his right hand he greeted him as he stood beside him,\nand he addressed him and spoke winged words:\nHail, father stranger; may there be for you hereafter\nprosperity; but now at least you are held by many troubles.\nFather Zeus, no other of the gods is more ruinous than you:\nyou do not pity men, once you yourself have begotten them,\nto be mingled with wickedness and wretched griefs.\nI broke into sweat, as I marked it, and my two eyes were filled with tears\nas I remembered Odysseus, for I deem that even he\nwanders among men wearing such rags as these,\nif anywhere he still lives and beholds the light of the sun.\nBut if he is already dead and in the halls of Hades,\nah me, then, for blameless Odysseus, who set me over the cattle\nwhile I was still a little one, in the land of the Cephallenians.\nBut now they grow past telling, and no man otherwise\ncould get such increase of the race of broad-browed cattle;\nbut others bid me bring them in for themselves\nto eat; and they care nothing in the halls for the son,\nnor do they tremble at the vengeance of the gods; for already they are eager\nto divide the possessions of the long-departed lord.\nBut my own heart in my dear breast\nturns this over many times: it is a great evil, while a son lives,\nto come to the land of others, going with the cattle themselves,\nto men of alien speech; but it is more chilling still, remaining here\nand sitting over the cattle of others to suffer griefs.\nAnd long since I would have come to some other of the over-mighty kings,\nfleeing from here, since these things are no longer bearable;\nbut still I think of that wretched man, if from somewhere he might come\nand make a scattering of the suitors throughout the halls.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nCowherd, since you seem neither a base man nor a foolish one,\nand I myself perceive that understanding has come to your mind,\ntherefore I will tell you, and I will swear a great oath upon it:\nlet Zeus first of the gods be witness, and the table of hospitality\nand the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have reached:\ntruly Odysseus will come home while you are here;\nand with your own eyes you shall behold, if you are willing,\nthe suitors being slain, who here hold lordship.\nThen the cowherd of the cattle answered him:\nWould that, stranger, the son of Cronos would fulfil this word!\nThen you would know what my strength is and what my hands can do.\nSo likewise Eumaeus prayed to all the gods\nthat wise-hearted Odysseus might return to this house.\nSo they spoke such words to one another,\nbut the suitors were preparing death and doom for Telemachus;\nyet an omen bird came to them on the left,\nan eagle flying on high, and it held a trembling dove.\nAnd among them Amphinomus spoke and addressed them:\nFriends, this counsel at least shall not be brought to pass for us,\nthe slaughter of Telemachus; but let us bethink us of the feast.\nSo spoke Amphinomus, and his word pleased them.\nAnd they came into the halls of godlike Odysseus\nand laid down their cloaks along the benches and the chairs,\nand they slaughtered great sheep and fat goats,\nand slaughtered fat hogs and a cow of the herd;\nand the innards they roasted and distributed, and wine\nthey mixed in the mixing bowls; and the cups the swineherd dealt out.\nAnd bread Philoetius served out to them, leader of men,\nin fair baskets, and Melanthius poured the wine.\nAnd they flung their hands upon the ready food that lay before them.\nAnd Telemachus seated Odysseus, handling shrewd counsels,\nwithin the well-founded hall, beside the stone threshold,\nsetting down a mean stool and a little table;\nand beside him he set portions of the innards, and poured wine\ninto a golden cup, and spoke a word to him:\nSit here now among the men and drink your wine;\nand from taunts, I myself will keep you, and from their hands,\nfrom all the suitors, since it is no public man's\nhouse, this, but Odysseus', and he won it for me.\nBut you, suitors, restrain your hearts from abuse\nand from your hands, lest some strife and quarrel arise.\nSo he spoke, and all of them, biting their lips with their teeth,\nmarvelled at Telemachus, that he spoke so boldly.\nAnd among them Antinous spoke, son of Eupeithes:\nHarsh though it be, let us accept the word, you Achaeans,\nfrom Telemachus; for with great threats he speaks before us.\nFor Zeus the son of Cronos did not suffer it; else we would by now\nhave stopped him in the halls, clear-voiced speaker though he be.\nSo spoke Antinous; but he paid no heed to their words.\nAnd heralds through the town were leading the holy hecatomb of the gods;\nand the long-haired Achaeans gathered\nbeneath the shady grove of far-shooting Apollo.\nAnd when they had roasted the upper flesh and drawn it off,\ndividing the portions they feasted on a glorious feast;\nand beside Odysseus those who served set a portion\nequal, as their own lot had given them; for so had ordered\nTelemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus.\nBut the haughty suitors Athena did not suffer at all\nto refrain from heart-grieving outrage, so that yet the more\ngrief might enter the heart of Odysseus, son of Laertes.\nNow there was a man among the suitors who knew lawless things,\nCtesippus was his name, and in Same he dwelt in a house;\nwho, trusting in his possessions, marvellous beyond words,\nwas wooing the wife of Odysseus long absent from home.\nHe then addressed the overweening suitors:\nHear me, haughty suitors, that I may say a word:\na portion the stranger has long had, as is seemly,\nan equal one; for it is not fair to stint, nor just,\nthe guests of Telemachus, whoever comes to this house.\nBut come, let me also give him a guest-gift, so that he himself\nmay give it as a gift of honour to the bath-pourer or to some other\nof the slaves who are throughout the halls of godlike Odysseus.\nSo he spoke and hurled an ox's foot with his stout hand,\ntaking it from the basket where it lay; but Odysseus dodged it,\nleaning his head gently aside, and he smiled in his heart\na very sardonic smile; and it struck the well-built wall.\nAnd Ctesippus Telemachus rebuked with a word:\nCtesippus, truly this thing has turned out better for your heart—\nyou did not strike the stranger; for he dodged the missile himself.\nFor I would have struck you in the middle with my sharp spear,\nand instead of a wedding your father would have busied himself with a grave\nhere. Therefore let no one show me unseemly deeds in the house;\nfor already I mark and know each thing,\nthe good alike and the worse; but before I was still a child.\nYet even so we have endured these things, looking on,\nwhile sheep are slain and wine is drunk\nand bread; for it is hard for one man to hold back many.\nBut come, no longer work me evil in your hostility;\nand if you are now eager to slay me myself with bronze,\neven that would I wish, and it would be far better\nto be dead than ever to behold these unseemly deeds,\nstrangers being roughly handled and slave women\ndragged shamefully throughout the fair halls.\nSo he spoke, and all of them became hushed in silence;\nand at last Agelaus, son of Damastor, addressed them:\nFriends, no one, surely, would be angry at a word justly spoken,\nfinding fault with it in words of opposition;\nneither roughly handle the stranger, nor any other\nof the slaves who are throughout the halls of godlike Odysseus.\nAnd to Telemachus and to his mother I would speak\na gentle word, if it should please the heart of them both.\nAs long as your heart in your breasts hoped\nthat wise-hearted Odysseus would return to this house,\nso long was there no blame in awaiting and in restraining\nthe suitors throughout the halls, since this was the better course,\nin case Odysseus returned and came back to the house;\nbut now this is clear, that he is no longer one to return.\nBut come, sit beside your mother and tell her this,\nto wed whoever is the best man and offers the most gifts,\nso that you may rejoicing enjoy all your father's possessions,\neating and drinking, and she may keep the house of another.\nAnd prudent Telemachus answered him in turn:\nNo, by Zeus, Agelaus, and by the griefs of my father,\nwho somewhere far from Ithaca has perished or is wandering,\nI do not delay my mother's marriage, but I bid her\nwed whomever she may wish, and beside that I give countless gifts.\nBut I am ashamed to drive her from the hall against her will\nwith a compelling word; may a god not bring that to pass.\nSo spoke Telemachus; but among the suitors Pallas Athena\nroused unquenchable laughter, and bewildered their minds.\nAnd they were already laughing with jaws that were not their own,\nand they were eating flesh gory with blood; and their eyes\nwere filled with tears, and their heart divined lamentation.\nAnd among them godlike Theoclymenus addressed them:\nAh, wretches, what evil is this that you suffer? Night has wrapped\nyour heads and your faces and your knees beneath.\nLamentation blazes, and your cheeks are wet with tears,\nand with blood are besprinkled the walls and the fair cross-beams;\nthe porch is full of phantoms, and full too is the courtyard,\nas they rush down to Erebos beneath the darkness; and the sun\nhas perished out of the sky, and an evil mist has stolen over it.\nSo he spoke, and all of them laughed sweetly at him.\nAnd among them Eurymachus, the son of Polybus, began to speak:\nThe stranger who has newly come from elsewhere is raving.\nBut quickly, you young men, send him out of the house to the door,\nto go to the assembly place, since this resembles night.\nThen godlike Theoclymenus answered him:\nEurymachus, I do not bid you to furnish escorts for me;\nI have eyes and ears and both my feet\nand a mind in my breast fashioned with nothing unseemly.\nWith these I will go forth outside, since I see an evil for you\ncoming, which no one of the suitors could escape or avoid,\nwho throughout the house of godlike Odysseus\nin your insolence contrive reckless things against men.\nSo he spoke and went forth from the well-inhabited house,\nand came to Peiraeus, who gladly received him.\nAnd all the suitors, looking at one another,\nkept provoking Telemachus, laughing over the strangers;\nand thus would one of the overweening young men speak:\nTelemachus, no one else is a worse host to guests than you;\nwhat a sort of fellow is this you keep, a vagabond to be sought in vain,\nin want of bread and wine, and with no skill in works\nnor in strength, but merely a burden of the ploughland.\nAnd here is another who has risen up to prophesy.\nBut if you would listen to me in something, it would be far better:\ncasting these strangers into a many-benched ship,\nlet us send them to the Sicels, from where something worth its price might come to you.\nSo spoke the suitors; but he paid no heed to their words,\nbut in silence kept gazing at his father, ever awaiting\nthe moment when he would lay hands upon the shameless suitors.\nAnd she, having set a very beautiful chair facing them,\nthe daughter of Icarius, thoughtful Penelope,\nheard the word of each of the men in the halls.\nFor their dinner, at least, they had made with laughter,\nsweet and satisfying, since they had sacrificed many beasts;\nbut no supper could ever have come to be more thankless\nthan that which the goddess and the mighty man were soon to set before them;\nfor they had been the first to contrive unseemly things.\n\n### Book 21\n\nAnd the bright-eyed goddess Athene put it in her mind,\nthe daughter of Icarius, circumspect Penelope,\nto set the bow and the grey iron before the suitors\nin the halls of Odysseus, a contest and the beginning of slaughter.\nShe climbed the high stairway of her own house,\nand took in her stout hand a well-bent key,\na lovely key of bronze, and its handle was of ivory.\nShe went to the innermost chamber with her handmaiden women,\nwhere the treasures of the lord lay stored,\nbronze and gold and iron wrought with much toil.\nThere lay the back-bent bow and the quiver,\nthe arrow-holder, and within were many groaning shafts,\ngifts that a guest had given him in Lacedaemon,\nIphitus the son of Eurytus, like unto the immortals.\nThe two had met each other in Messene,\nin the house of warlike Ortilochus. Odysseus\nhad come for a debt that all the people owed him;\nfor Messenian men had lifted from Ithaca\nthree hundred sheep in their many-benched ships, and the herdsmen with them.\nFor their sake Odysseus went on that long journey,\nbeing still a boy; his father sent him forth, and the other elders too.\nAnd Iphitus, seeking the horses that were lost to him,\ntwelve mares, and the mules that labour under the yoke;\nand these thereafter became his death and his doom,\nwhen he came to the strong-hearted son of Zeus,\nHeracles, a man acquainted with great deeds,\nwho slew him, though he was his guest, in his own house,\nthe ruthless one, and reverenced neither the wrath of the gods nor the table\nthat he had set before him; and thereafter he slew him too,\nand kept the strong-hoofed horses in his halls himself.\nSeeking these, Iphitus met Odysseus and gave him the bow,\nwhich great Eurytus had carried before, and he left it to his son\nwhen he died, in his high-roofed halls.\nAnd to him Odysseus gave a sharp sword and a mighty spear,\nthe beginning of a kindly guest-friendship; yet at the table\nthe two never knew each other; for before that the son of Zeus had slain\nIphitus the son of Eurytus, like unto the immortals,\nwho had given him the bow. And never did noble Odysseus\ntake it with him when he went to war on the black ships,\nbut it lay there in his halls, a memorial of a dear guest-friend,\nand he bore it only in his own land.\nAnd when she, the shining among women, came to that chamber\nand stepped upon the oaken threshold, which a craftsman once\nhad smoothed with skill and trued to the line,\nand set the doorposts in it and hung the shining doors,\nstraightway she quickly loosed the thong from the hook,\nand put in the key, and struck back the bolts of the doors,\naiming straight before her; and they bellowed as a bull\nbellows, grazing in a meadow; so bellowed the lovely doors\nstruck by the key, and they flew open swiftly.\nAnd she stepped up on the high platform, where the chests\nstood, and fragrant garments lay within them.\nThence she reached out and took the bow from its peg,\ntogether with its case, that shone all about it.\nSitting down there she laid it upon her dear knees,\nand wept very shrilly, and took up the bow of the lord.\nBut when she had had her fill of much-weeping lamentation,\nshe went to the hall among the proud suitors,\nholding in her hand the back-bent bow and the quiver,\nthe arrow-holder; and many groaning shafts were within.\nAnd her handmaidens carried a box, wherein iron\nlay in abundance, and bronze, the prizes of the lord.\nAnd when she, the shining among women, came to the suitors,\nshe stood beside the doorpost of the well-built roof,\nholding her shining headband before her cheeks.\nAnd a trusty handmaiden stood beside her on either side.\nStraightway she spoke to the suitors and uttered a word:\n\"Hear me, bold suitors, who by your endless eating\nand drinking have worn down this house,\nsince the man has been gone a long time; and no other\nexcuse for your words could you fashion,\nexcept that you desired to marry me and make me your wife.\nCome then, suitors, since this contest is set before you.\nFor I will set out the great bow of godlike Odysseus;\nand whoever strings it most easily in his hands\nand shoots through all the twelve axes,\nhim will I follow, forsaking this house,\nmy marriage house, exceeding lovely, full of livelihood,\nwhich I think I shall remember even in a dream.\"\nSo she spoke, and she commanded Eumaeus, the noble swineherd,\nto set the bow and the grey iron before the suitors.\nAnd Eumaeus took them weeping and laid them down;\nthe cowherd wept too, when he beheld the bow of the lord.\nAnd Antinous rebuked them and spoke and called them by name:\n\"Foolish country folk, whose minds are only for the day,\nah, wretches, why do you let tears fall and stir up\nthe heart within her breast? Her heart already\nlies amid sorrows, since she lost her dear husband.\nBut sit and feast in silence, or go forth\nand weep outside, leaving the bow here,\nan unbroken contest for the suitors; for I do not think\nthat this well-polished bow is easily strung.\nFor there is no such man among all these here\nas Odysseus was; and I myself have looked upon him,\nfor I am mindful of him, though I was still a young child.\"\nSo he spoke, but in his breast his heart hoped\nto string the bowstring and shoot through the iron.\nTruly he was destined to be the first to taste the arrow\nfrom the hands of blameless Odysseus, whom he then dishonoured\nas he sat in the halls, and roused up all his companions.\nAnd to them sacred Telemachus' strength also spoke:\n\"Ah me, surely Zeus the son of Cronos has made me foolish!\nMy own dear mother tells me, wise though she is,\nthat she will follow another and forsake this house;\nyet I laugh and take delight in my foolish heart.\nCome then, suitors, since this contest is set before you,\nsince there is no woman now in the land of Achaea,\nneither in holy Pylos nor in Argos nor in Mycenae,\nnor in Ithaca itself nor on the dark mainland;\nand you yourselves know this; why must I praise my mother?\nCome, do not put me off with delays, nor any longer\nturn away from the stringing of the bow, that we may see.\nAnd I myself could make trial of this bow;\nfor if I string it and shoot through the iron,\nthen my honoured mother would not, grieving for me, forsake these halls\nto go with another, when I am left behind\nable now to take up my father's glorious prizes.\"\nHe spoke, and straightway took the purple cloak from his shoulders,\nspringing up, and took the sharp sword from his shoulders.\nFirst he set up the axes, after digging one long trench\nfor them all, and trued it to a line,\nand heaped the earth about it; wonder seized all who beheld,\nso deftly he set them; before that he had never seen it done.\nHe went and stood upon the threshold and made trial of the bow.\nThree times he shook it, eager to draw it,\nthree times he let his strength rest, hoping in his heart\nto string the bowstring and shoot through the iron.\nAnd now he would have strung it, drawing with force the fourth time,\nbut Odysseus shook his head and held him back, eager as he was.\nAnd again sacred Telemachus' strength spoke among them:\n\"Ah me, verily I shall be a coward and a weakling,\nor I am too young and do not yet trust my hands\nto beat off a man when someone first shows anger.\nCome then, you who are stronger than I in force,\nmake trial of the bow, and let us finish the contest.\"\nSo speaking, he set the bow down on the ground away from him,\nleaning it against the close-jointed polished panels,\nand leaned the swift arrow against the lovely horn tip,\nand sat down again on the chair from which he had risen.\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them:\n\"Rise up in order, all you companions, from the right,\nbeginning from the place where he pours the wine.\"\nSo spoke Antinous, and his word pleased them.\nAnd Leiodes rose up first, the son of Oenops,\nwho was their diviner, and beside the lovely mixing bowl\nhe ever sat in the innermost corner; and reckless deeds alone\nwere hateful to him, and he was indignant with all the suitors.\nHe then first took up the bow and the swift arrow.\nHe went and stood upon the threshold and made trial of the bow,\nbut he did not string it; for his hands grew weary first from drawing,\nuntrained and soft; and then he spoke among the suitors:\n\"Friends, I cannot string it; let another take it.\nFor this bow will rob many of the best men\nof spirit and of life, since it is far better\nto die than to live and miss the thing for which\nwe gather here always, waiting every day.\nNow indeed someone hopes in his heart and longs\nto marry Penelope, the wife of Odysseus.\nBut when he has made trial of the bow and seen it,\nthen let him woo some other of the well-robed Achaean women\nwith gifts, seeking her; and she thereafter\nmay marry whoever gives the most and comes as her appointed fate.\nSo he spoke, and set the bow down from him,\nleaning it against the close-jointed polished panels,\nand leaned the swift arrow against the lovely horn tip,\nand sat down again on the chair from which he had risen.\nAnd Antinous rebuked him and spoke and called him by name:\n\"Leiodes, what manner of word has escaped the fence of your teeth,\ndreadful and grievous — and I am angered to hear it —\nif this bow will rob the best men\nof spirit and of life, because you cannot string it.\nFor your honoured mother did not bear you\nto be a stringer of a bow and a shooter of arrows;\nbut other proud suitors will string it soon.\"\nSo he spoke, and commanded Melanthius, the goatherd of goats:\n\"Come now, Melanthius, kindle a fire in the halls,\nand set a great chair beside it and a fleece upon it,\nand bring out a great wheel of fat from what is within,\nthat we young men, warming it and smearing it with grease,\nmay make trial of the bow and finish the contest.\"\nSo he spoke, and Melanthius quickly kindled the tireless fire,\nand brought and set a chair beside it and a fleece upon it,\nand brought out a great wheel of fat from what was within;\nwith it the young men warmed and tried the bow; but they could not\nstring it, for they were far too short of strength.\nYet Antinous held back, and godlike Eurymachus,\nthe leaders of the suitors; they were far the best in valour.\nAnd the two went out of the house together,\nthe cowherd and the swineherd of godlike Odysseus;\nand noble Odysseus himself came out of the house after them.\nBut when they were outside the doors and the courtyard,\nhe spoke to them and addressed them with gentle words:\n\"Cowherd, and you, swineherd, shall I tell you a word,\nor keep it hidden myself? My heart urges me to speak.\nWhat manner of men would you be to defend Odysseus, if he came from somewhere\nhere so very suddenly, and some god brought him?\nWould you defend the suitors or Odysseus?\nSay it as your heart and spirit command you.\"\nAnd the keeper of cattle answered him:\n\"Father Zeus, if only you would fulfil this wish,\nthat that man might come, and some god lead him hither;\nthen would you know what strength is mine and what my hands can do.\"\nAnd in like manner Eumaeus prayed to all the gods\nthat wise Odysseus might return to this house.\nBut when he had read their mind as true,\nhe answered them again and spoke:\n\"Here am I myself, within — I, who have suffered many troubles,\nhave come to my homeland in the twentieth year.\nI know that I have come to you two alone of the servants as men who long for me;\nfor of the others I have heard no one\npraying that I might come back home again.\nAnd to you two, as it shall be, I will tell the truth.\nIf a god subdues the proud suitors beneath me,\nI will bring wives for both of you and give you possessions\nand houses built near my own; and thereafter\nyou two shall be companions and brothers to Telemachus.\nBut come now, I will show you another sign most clear,\nthat you may know me well and be persuaded in your heart:\nthe scar, which a boar once struck with its white tusk\nwhen I went to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.\"\nSo speaking, he drew the rags from the great scar.\nAnd when the two beheld it and marked each thing well,\nthey wept and cast their arms about wise Odysseus,\nand kissed his head and his shoulders in welcome,\nand in like manner Odysseus kissed their heads and hands.\nAnd the light of the sun would have set upon them as they wailed,\nhad not Odysseus himself restrained them and spoken:\n\"Cease from weeping and wailing, lest someone see\nand come out of the hall and tell the others within.\nBut go in one after another, not all together,\nI first, then you; and let this be the sign:\nfor all the others, as many as are proud suitors,\nwill not suffer me to be given the bow and the quiver;\nbut you, noble Eumaeus, carry the bow through the halls\nand place it in my hands, and tell the women\nto lock the close-fitting doors of the hall;\nand if anyone hears groaning or a din within\namong our men inside the walls, let none\ncome forth, but let her stay quiet there at her work.\nAnd to you, noble Philoetius, I command\nto lock the doors of the courtyard with the key, and swiftly tie the fastening.\"\nSo speaking he went into the well-built house;\nhe went and sat down on the chair from which he had risen;\nand the two servants also went into the house of godlike Odysseus.\nAnd Eurymachus was already handling the bow in his hands,\nwarming it this way and that at the flame of the fire; but even so\nhe could not string it, and he groaned greatly in his proud heart.\nTroubled, he spoke a word and said and called him by name:\n\"Ah me, grief is mine for myself and for all of us.\nI do not grieve so much for the marriage, troubled though I am;\nfor there are many other Achaean women, some in Ithaca itself\nringed by the sea, and others in other cities;\nbut if we are so far short of strength\ncompared with godlike Odysseus, since we cannot string\nthe bow — a disgrace even for those to come to hear of.\"\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:\n\"Eurymachus, it shall not be so; you know it yourself.\nFor now throughout the land is the holy feast of the god;\nwho then would string a bow? But set it quietly\ndown; and let us let all the axes stand there too;\nfor I do not think anyone will carry them off,\ncoming into the hall of Laertes' son Odysseus.\nCome then, let the wine-pourer begin the offering with the cups,\nthat after pouring a libation we may set down the curved bows;\nand at dawn bid Melanthius, the goatherd of goats,\nbring goats, which stand far out above all his herds,\nthat we may set thigh pieces before Apollo, famed with the bow,\nand make trial of the bow and finish the contest.\"\nSo spoke Antinous, and his word pleased them.\nAnd heralds poured water over their hands,\nand young men filled the mixing bowls with drink,\nand served it to all, after the first offering, with cups.\nAnd when they had poured and drunk as much as their heart desired,\nthen Odysseus of many wiles spoke among them with a crafty mind:\n\"Hear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,\nthat I may say what my heart in my breast commands me.\nEurymachus above all I beseech, and godlike Antinous,\nsince he has spoken this word also in season:\nto stop the bow for now, and leave it to the gods;\nat dawn the god will give victory to whomsoever he wishes.\nBut come, give me the polished bow, that among you\nI may make trial of my hands and my strength, whether there is still\nthe force that once was in my supple limbs,\nor whether wandering and neglect have already destroyed it.\"\nSo he spoke, and they were all exceedingly indignant,\nfearing that he might string the polished bow.\nAnd Antinous rebuked him and spoke and called him by name:\n\"Ah, wretch of a stranger, your wits are not sound within you!\nAre you not content that you feast in peace among us proud men,\nand are not stinted of the feast, but you listen\nto our words and our speech? No other stranger\nor beggar hears our words. Sweet wine is hurting you,\nthe honey-sweet wine that harms others too, whoever\ngulps it down and does not drink in measure.\nWine drove even the Centaur, famed Eurytion,\nto folly in the halls of great-hearted Peirithous,\nwhen he came among the Lapiths; and when wine had ruined his wits,\nraging he wrought evil deeds in the house of Peirithous;\nand grief seized the heroes, and they sprang up and dragged him\nthrough the doorway and out of doors, and shore off his ears and his nose\nwith pitiless bronze; and he, ruined in his own mind,\nwent on his way bearing his own folly with a foolish heart.\nFrom that time strife arose between Centaurs and men,\nand he first found evil for himself by being heavy with wine.\nSo for you too I foretell great ruin, if you string\nthat bow; for you will meet with no kindness\nin our land, but straightway in a black ship\nwe will send you to king Echetus, the destroyer of all mortals;\nand from there you shall not be saved. But quietly\ndrink, and do not strive with younger men.\"\nThen circumspect Penelope answered him:\n\"Antinous, it is neither seemly nor just\nto slight the guests of Telemachus, whoever comes to this house.\nDo you imagine that if this stranger strings the great bow of Odysseus\nand trusts in his hands and his strength,\nhe will take me home and make me his wife?\nHe himself surely does not hope that in his breast;\nand let none of you feast here grieving in his heart\nfor that cause, since neither is that fitting.\"\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her:\n\"Daughter of Icarius, circumspect Penelope,\nwe do not think that he will take you home; that is not fitting.\nBut we are ashamed before the talk of men and women,\nlest some other, baser Achaean should say:\n'Far worse men than he woo the wife\nof a blameless man, and cannot even string\nhis polished bow; but some beggar stranger came wandering in\nand easily strung the bow and shot through the iron.'\nSo they will say, and that would be a disgrace to us.\"\nThen circumspect Penelope answered him:\n\"Eurymachus, it is in no way possible for men to be well spoken of\nin the land who dishonour and devour the house\nof a noble man. Why do you count this a disgrace?\nThis stranger here is very tall and well built,\nand he claims to be born the son of a noble father.\nCome, give him the polished bow, that we may see.\nFor I will say this, and it shall also be brought to pass:\nif he strings it, and Apollo grants him glory,\nI will clothe him in a cloak and tunic, lovely garments,\nand I will give him a sharp spear, a defence against dogs and men,\nand a two-edged sword; and I will give him sandals for his feet,\nand I will send him wherever his heart and spirit command.\"\nThen wise Telemachus answered her:\n\"My mother, no one of the Achaeans has more power than I\nto give it or refuse it to whomever I wish,\nneither all who rule over rocky Ithaca,\nnor all who hold the islands toward horse-pasturing Elis;\nnone of them shall constrain me against my will, if I wish\nto give this bow outright to the stranger to bear away.\nBut go into the house and attend to your own work,\nthe loom and the distaff, and bid your women\ngo about their work; the bow shall be a care for men,\nfor all of them, and most of all for me; for the power in this house is mine.\"\nShe was amazed and went back into the house;\nfor she laid her son's wise word to heart.\nShe went up to the upper chamber with her handmaiden women,\nand then wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until sweet sleep\nAthene of the bright eyes cast upon her eyelids.\nBut the noble swineherd took up the curved bow and carried it;\nand all the suitors shouted at him in the halls;\nand thus one of the over-proud young men would say:\n\"Where are you carrying the curved bow, you wretched swineherd,\nyou vagabond? Soon the swift dogs will devour you beside your pigs,\nalone, away from men, whom you reared, if Apollo\nand the other immortal gods are gracious to us.\"\nSo they spoke, but he carried it and set it down in that same place,\nin fear, because many were shouting in the halls.\nBut Telemachus from the other side called out with a threat:\n\"Father, carry the bow forward; soon you will not obey everyone well;\nor else I, though younger, will chase you into the fields,\npelting you with stones; for I am stronger in force.\nIf only I were as much stronger in hands and strength\nthan all the suitors, as many as are in the house!\nThen I would soon send someone home in misery\nout of our house, since they devise evil.\"\nSo he spoke, and all the suitors laughed sweetly at him,\nand the suitors let go of their harsh anger\nagainst Telemachus; and the swineherd carried the bow through the house\nand stood beside wise Odysseus and put it into his hands.\nAnd he called the nurse Eurycleia and spoke to her:\n\"Telemachus bids you, circumspect Eurycleia,\nto lock the close-fitting doors of the hall.\nAnd if anyone hears groaning or a din within\namong our men inside the walls, let none\ncome forth, but let her stay quiet there at her work.\"\nSo he spoke, and the word was wingless for her,\nand she locked the doors of the well-built hall.\nAnd silently Philoetius sprang out of the house,\nand then he locked the doors of the well-fenced courtyard.\nAnd beneath the portico lay the cable of a curved ship,\nmade of papyrus, with which he bound the doors, and he went back in;\nhe went and sat down on the chair from which he had risen,\nwatching Odysseus. And he was already handling the bow,\nturning it over everywhere, trying it this way and that,\nlest worms had eaten the horn while the lord was away.\nAnd thus one of them said, looking at his neighbour:\n\"This man must be a judge of bows and a thief as well;\nor perhaps such a bow lies at home with him,\nor he is eager to make one, since he handles it in his hands\nthis way and that, the wretched wandering beggar.\"\nAnd another of the over-proud young men said:\n\"If only he might meet with as much profit\nas he will ever be able to string this bow.\"\nSo the suitors spoke; but Odysseus of many wiles,\nas soon as he had lifted the great bow and scanned it everywhere,\neven as a man skilled in the lyre and in song\neasily stretches a string around a new peg,\nfastening the twisted sheep-gut on either end,\nso without effort Odysseus strung the great bow.\nTaking it in his right hand he made trial of the string;\nand it sang beautifully beneath his hand, like the voice of a swallow.\nAnd great grief came upon the suitors, and the colour\nof all their skin changed; and Zeus thundered loudly, showing signs.\nAnd much-enduring noble Odysseus rejoiced,\nbecause the son of Cronos of the crooked counsel had sent him the sign.\nHe took a swift arrow, which lay beside him on the table,\nbare; the others lay within the hollow quiver,\nwhich the Achaeans were soon to make trial of.\nTaking it by the middle he drew the string and the notches,\nsitting there on his chair, and shot the arrow,\naiming straight; and he missed none of all the axes,\nfrom the first handle, and straight through came out\nthe bronze-heavy arrow; and he spoke to Telemachus:\n\"Telemachus, the stranger sitting in your halls has not disgraced you,\nnor have I missed the mark, nor did I toil long\nin stringing the bow; my strength is still steadfast,\nnot as the suitors supposed in their contempt.\nNow it is time that dinner be made ready for the Achaeans\nin the light, and afterwards that they make merry in another way\nwith song and lyre; for these are the ornaments of a feast.\"\nHe spoke and nodded with his brows; and he put on the sharp sword,\nTelemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus,\nand laid his dear hand upon the spear, and close beside him\nhe stood by his chair, armed in the flashing bronze.\n\n### Book 22\n\nBut he stripped the rags from his body, Odysseus of many counsels,\nand sprang upon the great threshold, holding the bow and the quiver\nthat was heavy with arrows, and he poured the swift shafts out\nthere before his feet, and then he spoke among the suitors:\n\"This contest, this ordeal past all escaping, is now accomplished;\nnow I shall try another mark, which no man yet has hit,\nif haply I may hit it, and Apollo grant me the glory.\"\nHe spoke, and aimed the bitter arrow straight at Antinous.\nTruly that man was about to lift up the fair cup,\na golden two-handled goblet, and already he handled it in his hands,\nthat he might drink of the wine; and slaughter was not in his heart\nnor in his care; who among men at a feast could think,\none man alone among many, even were he never so strong,\nthat he would deal him death and black doom?\nHim Odysseus struck with the arrow, aiming at his throat,\nand straight through the tender neck the point went out.\nHe fell away sideways, and the cup dropped from his hand\nas he was struck, and straightway through his nostrils a thick jet\nof human blood came spurting; and swiftly with his foot he pushed\nthe table from him, and scattered the food upon the ground;\nbread and roasted flesh were all befouled. And the suitors\nclamoured throughout the hall, when they saw the man fallen,\nand up from their seats they sprang, astounded through the house,\npeering every way at the well-built walls;\nbut nowhere was a shield, nor a stout spear to be seized.\nAnd they railed at Odysseus with wrathful words:\n\"Stranger, evilly do you shoot at men; no more hereafter\nshall you meet with other contests; now your sheer destruction is sure.\nFor now you have slain the man who was far the best\nof the young men in Ithaca; therefore shall the vultures devour you here.\"\nSo each man spoke, for they thought it was against his will\nthat the man had slain him; but the fools did not perceive\nthat the bonds of destruction were fastened upon them also, all together.\nThen with a dark look at them spoke Odysseus of many counsels:\n\"You dogs! You did not think I should come back home again\nfrom the land of the Trojans, seeing that you laid waste my house,\nand lay with my handmaid women by force,\nand wooed my wife while I myself was still alive,\nfearing neither the gods who hold the wide heaven,\nnor any vengeance of men that should come hereafter.\nNow upon you all the bonds of destruction are fastened.\"\nSo he spoke, and pale fear seized them all,\nand each man looked about him, where he might escape sheer destruction.\nAnd Eurymachus alone answered him and spoke:\n\"If indeed you are Odysseus of Ithaca, come home at last,\nthen these things you have said are just, all that the Achaeans did,\nmany a reckless deed in the halls, and many in the fields.\nBut he now lies low who was the cause of them all,\nAntinous; for it was he who set these works in motion,\nnot so much desiring the marriage nor in need of it,\nbut devising other things, which the son of Cronos did not bring to pass for him,\nthat he might be king over the people of well-built Ithaca\nhimself, and might slay your son by ambush.\nBut now he in his fate has fallen, so do you spare your own people;\nand we hereafter, making amends throughout the land\nfor all that has been drunk and eaten in your halls,\nbringing each man a price of twenty oxen,\nboth bronze and gold we shall pay back, until your heart\nis softened; but before that, to be angry is no cause for reproach.\"\nThen with a dark look at him spoke Odysseus of many counsels:\n\"Eurymachus, not even if you gave me back all your fathers' goods,\nall that you now have, and whatever else you might add from elsewhere,\nnot even so would I hold my hands from the slaughter\nuntil the suitors pay in full for all their transgression.\nNow it lies before you: either to fight face to face,\nor to flee, whoever may escape death and the fates;\nbut I think that no man will escape sheer destruction.\"\nSo he spoke, and their knees were loosened and their dear hearts.\nAnd Eurymachus addressed them a second time again:\n\"Friends, this man will not restrain his invincible hands,\nbut since he has taken the well-polished bow and the quiver,\nfrom the smooth threshold will he shoot, until he has slain\nus all; but let us remember our battle-fury.\nDraw your swords and hold up the tables\nagainst the swift-dying arrows; and let us all set upon him\ntogether, if haply we may thrust him from the threshold and the doors,\nand go up through the town, and the alarm be raised as quickly as may be;\nthen this man would presently shoot his last arrow.\"\nSo he spoke, and drew his sharp sword,\nof bronze, whetted on both edges, and leapt at him\nshouting terribly; and at the same moment noble Odysseus\nlet fly his arrow, and struck him beside the breast at the nipple,\nand drove the swift shaft into his liver; and from his hand\nthe sword fell to the ground, and pitching over the table\nhe fell bending forward, and spilled the food upon the ground\nand the two-handled cup; and he smote the earth with his forehead\ngrieving at heart, and with both feet\nkicking the chair he shook it; and a mist was poured over his eyes.\nAnd Amphinomus rushed at glorious Odysseus face to face,\nand drew his sharp sword,\nif haply he might give way from the doors. But Telemachus\nwas first and struck him from behind with the bronze spear\nbetween the shoulders, and drove it through his breast;\nand he fell with a thud, and smote the earth with all his forehead.\nAnd Telemachus sprang back, leaving the long-shadowed spear\nthere in Amphinomus; for he greatly feared lest some one of the Achaeans\nshould thrust at him as he drew forth the long-shadowed spear,\nrushing on with a sword, or strike him as he bent forward.\nHe hastened at a run, and very quickly reached his dear father,\nand standing near him he spoke winged words:\n\"Father, now I shall bring you a shield and two spears\nand a helmet all of bronze, fitted to your temples,\nand I myself will put it about me as I go, and I will give to the swineherd\nand to the cowherd others; for it is better to be armed.\"\nThen answering him spoke Odysseus of many counsels:\n\"Bring them at a run, while I have arrows to defend myself,\nlest they drive me from the doors, while I am but one man alone.\"\nSo he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father,\nand went to the chamber, where his glorious armour lay.\nFrom there he took four shields, and eight spears,\nand four bronze helmets, plumed with horsehair;\nand he went carrying them, and very quickly reached his dear father,\nand he himself first put the bronze about his body;\nand in like manner the two bondsmen put on the fair armour,\nand stood about Odysseus, the battle-minded, crafty in many ways.\nYet he, so long as he had arrows to defend himself,\nso long he kept striking one of the suitors after another in his own house,\ntaking aim; and they fell in thronging heaps.\nBut when the arrows failed the lord as he shot,\nhe leaned the bow against the door-post of the well-built hall,\nto stand there, against the shining wall;\nand he himself put a fourfold shield about his shoulders,\nand on his mighty head he set a well-wrought helmet,\nplumed with horsehair, and terribly the crest nodded above;\nand he took two stout spears, tipped with bronze.\nNow there was a certain postern in the well-built wall,\nand by the topmost threshold of the well-built hall\nthere was a way into the passage, and close-fitted boards held it.\nThis Odysseus ordered the noble swineherd to keep watch over,\nstanding close beside it; for there was but one way of onset.\nAnd Agelaus spoke among them, declaring a word to all:\n\"Friends, could not someone climb up through the postern\nand tell the people, and the alarm be raised as quickly as may be?\nthen this man would presently shoot his last arrow.\"\nAnd Melanthius the goatherd answered him again:\n\"Not in any way is it possible, Agelaus, fosterling of Zeus; for terribly near\nare the fair doors of the court and the grievous mouth of the passage;\nand one man, if he were stout, could hold them all back.\nBut come, let me bring you armour to be put on\nout of the chamber; for within, I think, and nowhere else\ndid Odysseus and his glorious son lay up the armour.\"\nSo he spoke, and Melanthius the goatherd went up,\ninto the chambers of Odysseus through the crannies of the hall.\nFrom there he took twelve shields, and as many spears\nand as many bronze helmets, plumed with horsehair;\nand he went, and very quickly brought them and gave them to the suitors.\nAnd then the knees of Odysseus were loosened and his dear heart,\nwhen he saw them putting on the armour with their hands and shaking\nthe long spears; and a great task it seemed to him.\nAnd straightway he spoke winged words to Telemachus:\n\"Telemachus, surely one of the women within the halls\nis stirring up evil war against us two, or else Melanthius.\"\nAnd Telemachus, wise of heart, spoke to him in answer:\n\"Father, I myself have erred in this, and no one else\nis the cause, I who left the close-fitted door of the chamber\nset open; but their watchman was the better man.\"\n\"But come, noble Eumaeus, shut the door of the chamber\nand mark whether one of the women is doing this,\nor the son of Dolius, Melanthius, whom I suspect.\"\nSo these two spoke such words to one another,\nand Melanthius the goatherd went back to the chamber,\nto carry the fair armour. And the noble swineherd marked him,\nand straightway spoke to Odysseus, who was near:\n\"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,\nyonder man again, the destroyer, whom we ourselves suspected,\nis going to the chamber; but do you tell me truly,\nwhether I shall kill him, if I prove the stronger,\nor bring him to you here, that he may pay for the transgressions,\nthe many that this man has devised in your house.\"\nThen answering him spoke Odysseus of many counsels:\n\"Truly I and Telemachus will hold back the lordly suitors\nwithin the halls, however eager they may be.\nAnd do you two twist his feet and his hands above him\nand throw him into the chamber, and bind the boards behind him,\nand having tied a woven rope to him\ndrag him up a tall pillar and bring him close to the beams,\nso that living long he may suffer grievous pains.\"\nSo he spoke, and they heard him well and obeyed,\nand went into the chamber, unseen of him who was within.\nHe, indeed, searched for armour in the inmost part of the chamber,\nand the two stood on either side beside the door-posts, waiting.\nAnd when Melanthius the goatherd stepped over the threshold,\nin the one hand carrying a goodly helmet,\nand in the other a broad old shield, defiled with mould,\nthe hero Laertes', which he used to carry when he was young;\nthen indeed it lay there, and the stitching of its straps was loosed.\nAnd the two rushed upon him and seized him and dragged him within\nby the hair, and flung him down on the floor, grieved at heart,\nand bound his feet and his hands with a heart-paining bond,\ntwisting them well right through, even as he had ordered\nthe son of Laertes, much-enduring noble Odysseus;\nand having tied a woven rope to him\nthey dragged him up a tall pillar and brought him close to the beams.\nAnd mocking him you spoke, Eumaeus the swineherd:\n\"Now indeed, Melanthius, all night long shall you keep watch,\nlying down in a soft bed, as is seemly for you;\nnor shall the early-born, the golden-throned, from the streams of Ocean\nescape you as she comes, when you drive\nthe goats to the suitors through the house to make them a feast.\"\nSo he was left there, stretched in a deadly bond;\nand the two put on their armour, and shut the shining door,\nand went to Odysseus, battle-minded, crafty in many ways.\nThere they stood breathing fury, some at the threshold,\nfour of them, and others inside the halls, many and valiant.\nAnd near them came the daughter of Zeus, Athena,\nlike Mentor in form and in voice.\nAnd Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her and spoke a word:\n\"Mentor, ward off ruin, and remember your dear comrade,\nwho used to do you kindness; and you are of my own age.\"\nSo he spoke, thinking she was Athena, rouser of armies.\nAnd the suitors shouted from the other side in the halls;\nfirst Agelaus, son of Damastor, rebuked her:\n\"Mentor, do not let Odysseus persuade you with words\nto fight the suitors, and to defend him himself.\nFor thus I think our purpose will be accomplished:\nwhen we have slain these two, the father and the son,\nthen you also shall be among them, doing such things as you desire\nto do in the halls; and you shall pay with your own head.\nBut when we have taken away your strength with the bronze,\nall the possessions that are yours, both within and without,\nwe shall mingle with those of Odysseus; nor will we suffer\nyour sons to live in the halls, nor your daughters\nnor your wedded wife to walk about the city of Ithaca.\"\nSo he spoke, and Athena was angered yet more in her heart,\nand she rebuked Odysseus with wrathful words:\n\"No longer is your might steadfast, Odysseus, nor any valour\nsuch as when for the sake of Helen of the white arms, of noble sire,\nnine years long you fought against the Trojans, never ceasing,\nand slew many men in dread battle,\nand by your counsel the wide-wayed city of Priam was taken.\nHow then now, when you have come to your own home and possessions,\ndo you lament before the suitors that you are valiant?\nBut come hither, my friend, stand by me and behold the work,\nthat you may know what manner of man among hostile men\nMentor son of Alcimus is, to repay good deeds.\"\nShe spoke, and did not yet wholly grant the victory that turns the scale,\nbut still she put to the test the strength and the valour\nboth of Odysseus and of his glorious son.\nAnd she herself up to the roof of the smoky hall\nsat, having leapt up, like a swallow to look upon.\nAnd Agelaus son of Damastor urged on the suitors,\nEurynomus and Amphimedon and Demoptolem,\nand Peisander son of Polyctor and shrewd Polybus;\nfor these were far the best of the suitors in valour,\nas many as were still alive and fighting for their lives;\nbut the bow and the close-packed arrows had already subdued them.\nAnd Agelaus spoke among them, declaring a word to all:\n\"Friends, now this man will hold back his invincible hands;\nand indeed Mentor has gone hence, having spoken empty boasts,\nand those two are left alone at the front doors.\nSo now do not all hurl your long spears at once,\nbut come, let the six of you first hurl your spears, if haply Zeus\nmay grant that Odysseus be struck, and that we win the glory.\nFor the rest there is no care, once this man has fallen.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all hurled, even as he commanded,\neager; but Athena made them all in vain,\nfor one of them struck the door-post of the well-built hall,\nand another the close-fitted door;\nand another's bronze-heavy ash spear fell against the wall.\nBut when they had escaped the spears of the suitors,\nthen much-enduring noble Odysseus began to speak among them:\n\"Friends, now I too would say that we should hurl\ninto the throng of the suitors, who are eager\nto slay us, on top of their former evils.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all hurled the sharp spears,\naiming straight before them; Odysseus struck Demoptolem,\nand Telemachus Eurydamas, and the swineherd Elatus,\nand the cowherd of the cattle slew Peisander.\nThen all of them alike took the boundless earth with their teeth,\nand the suitors drew back to the inmost part of the hall;\nand the others rushed in, and took the spears from the dead.\nAnd again the suitors hurled the sharp spears,\neager; but Athena made many of them in vain,\nfor one of them struck the door-post of the well-built hall,\nand another the close-fitted door;\nand another's bronze-heavy ash spear fell against the wall.\nAnd Amphimedon struck Telemachus on the wrist of his hand\na grazing blow, and the bronze broke the topmost skin.\nAnd Ctesippus with his long spear over the swineherd's shield\ngrazed his shoulder; and the spear flew over and fell to the ground.\nAnd the others again about Odysseus, battle-minded, crafty in many ways,\nhurled the sharp spears into the throng of the suitors.\nThen again Odysseus, sacker of cities, struck Eurydamas,\nand Telemachus Amphimedon, and the swineherd Polybus;\nand Ctesippus the cowherd of the cattle\nstruck in the chest, and boasting he spoke aloud:\n\"Son of Polytherses, lover of mockery, never again\nin your folly give way to speaking big words, but to the gods\ncommit the word, since they are far stronger.\nThis is your guest-gift in return for the foot you once gave\nto godlike Odysseus as he wandered through his house.\"\nSo spoke the cowherd of the sleek cattle; and Odysseus\nstabbed the son of Damastor at close range with his long spear.\nAnd Telemachus struck Leocritus, son of Evenor,\nwith his spear in the middle of the flank, and drove the bronze right through;\nand he fell face down, and smote the earth with all his forehead.\nThen Athena held up the man-destroying aegis\nfrom on high, out of the roof; and their minds were panic-stricken.\nAnd they fled through the hall like herds of cattle,\nwhich the darting gadfly, rushing upon them, drives mad\nin the season of spring, when the days grow long.\nAnd as hook-clawed vultures with curved talons,\ncoming from the mountains, rush upon birds,\nand the birds over the plain, cowering before the clouds, fly low,\nand the vultures leap upon them and destroy them, and there is no defence\nnor escape; and men rejoice in the hunt;\nso then those men rushed upon the suitors through the house\nand struck them, turning this way and that; and a shameful groan rose up\nas their heads were struck, and the whole floor ran with blood.\nAnd Leodes rushed at Odysseus and seized his knees,\nand pleading he spoke winged words:\n\"I beseech you, Odysseus; show me reverence and have pity on me;\nfor I say that I never said anything\nnor did anything reckless to any of the women in the halls; but I even\nkept the other suitors from it, whoever did such things.\nBut they did not obey me, to keep their hands from evil;\nso by their recklessness they came to a shameful death.\nBut I, a diviner among them, having done nothing,\nshall lie dead, since there is no gratitude afterwards for good deeds.\"\nThen with a dark look at him spoke Odysseus of many counsels:\n\"If indeed you claim to be a diviner among them,\noften, I suppose, you prayed in the halls\nthat the end of my sweet homecoming should be far away,\nand that my dear wife should follow you, and that you beget children;\ntherefore you shall not escape death that brings hard grief.\"\nSo speaking, he took up in his stout hand the sword\nthat lay there, which Agelaus had let fall to the ground\nwhen he was slain; with it he struck him in the middle of the neck.\nAnd while he was still speaking, his head was mingled with the dust.\nAnd Terpiades the singer was still fleeing black doom,\nPhemius, who used to sing among the suitors by compulsion.\nHe stood holding in his hands the clear-toned lyre\nclose beside the postern; and in his mind he pondered two ways,\nwhether he should slip out of the hall to the altar of great Zeus,\nthe god of the courtyard, and sit there where many times\nLaertes and Odysseus had burned the thighs of oxen,\nor whether he should rush and beseech Odysseus by the knees.\nAnd as he thought it over, this seemed to him the better course,\nto clasp the knees of Odysseus, son of Laertes.\nSo he laid the hollow lyre upon the ground\nbetween the mixing-bowl and the silver-studded chair,\nand he himself rushed and grasped the knees of Odysseus,\nand pleading he spoke winged words:\n\"I beseech you, Odysseus; show me reverence and have pity on me;\nfor afterwards there will be grief for you yourself, if you slay\na singer, who sings for gods and for men.\nI am self-taught, and a god has planted in my mind\nsongs of every kind; and I seem to sing before you\nas before a god; so do not long to cut my throat.\nAnd Telemachus would say this too, your dear son,\nthat I never of my own will nor from want came to your house,\ngoing among the suitors to sing at their feasts,\nbut far more numerous and stronger men brought me by compulsion.\"\nSo he spoke, and the sacred strength of Telemachus heard him,\nand at once he spoke to his father, who was near:\n\"Hold back, and do not strike this innocent man with the bronze;\nand let us save the herald Medon too, who always\ncared for me in our house when I was a child,\nunless Philoetius has slain him, or the swineherd,\nor he met you as you raged through the house.\"\nSo he spoke, and Medon heard him, wise of heart;\nfor he lay crouching beneath a chair, and about him\nhe had wrapped a freshly flayed ox-hide, fleeing black doom.\nAnd at once he sprang from the chair, and quickly stripped off the ox-hide,\nand then he rushed and grasped the knees of Telemachus,\nand pleading he spoke winged words:\n\"Friend, I am here; hold back, and tell your father\nnot to harm me in his overmastering strength with the sharp bronze,\nbeing angry with the suitors, who were devouring\nhis possessions in the halls, and the fools honoured you in nothing.\"\nAnd with a smile Odysseus of many counsels spoke to him:\n\"Take heart, since this man has saved you and rescued you,\nthat you may know in your heart — and tell it to another also —\nthat good dealing is far better than evil-doing.\nBut come out of the halls and sit outside the door,\naway from the slaughter, in the courtyard, you and the much-praised singer,\nwhile I do in the house whatever I must do.\"\nSo he spoke, and the two went out of the hall,\nand they sat down beside the altar of great Zeus,\nlooking every way, always expecting slaughter.\nAnd Odysseus looked throughout his house, whether any man\nwere yet alive and hiding away, fleeing black doom.\nHe saw them all, in blood and dust,\nfallen, many of them, like fishes, which fishermen\ninto the hollow shore, out beyond the grey sea,\nhave dragged with a many-meshed net; and they all,\nlonging for the waves of the sea, lie gasping on the sand;\nand the shining Sun takes the life from them;\nso then the suitors lay fallen upon one another.\nThen Odysseus of many counsels spoke to Telemachus:\n\"Telemachus, come, call the nurse Eurycleia for me,\nso that I may speak a word that is in my heart.\"\nSo he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father,\nand having pushed the door he spoke to the nurse Eurycleia:\n\"Come here, rise up, aged woman, long since grown old, who among the women\nare the watcher of the maidservants throughout our halls;\ncome, my father calls you, so that he may say something.\"\nSo he called, and her word was unwinged,\nand she opened the doors of the well-built halls,\nand went in; and Telemachus led the way before her.\nShe found Odysseus among the slain corpses,\ndefiled with blood and gore, like a lion,\nthat has eaten its fill of a farmyard ox and comes away;\nand all of his chest and both his cheeks\nare bloody, and he is terrible to look upon in the face;\nso was Odysseus defiled, his feet and his hands above.\nAnd when she saw the corpses and the boundless blood,\nshe was eager to cry aloud in triumph, since she saw a great deed;\nbut Odysseus held her back and restrained her, eager though she was,\nand speaking he addressed her with winged words:\n\"In your heart, old woman, rejoice, and hold back, and do not cry aloud;\nit is not holy to boast over slain men.\nBut these the fate of the gods subdued, and their cruel deeds;\nfor they honoured no one of the men upon the earth,\nneither bad nor good, whoever came among them;\nso by their recklessness they came to a shameful death.\nBut come, recount for me the women in the halls,\nthose who dishonour me, and those who are innocent.\"\nAnd her dear nurse Eurycleia answered him:\n\"Then I will tell you the truth, my child.\nThere are fifty women in the halls,\nmaidservants, whom we taught to work at their tasks,\nboth to card the wool and to endure slavery;\nof these twelve in all have set foot on shamelessness,\nhonouring neither me nor Penelope herself.\nAnd Telemachus was lately growing up, and his mother\ndid not allow him to give orders to the maidservants.\nBut come, let me go up to the shining upper rooms\nand tell your wife, on whom some god has poured sleep.\"\nAnd answering her spoke Odysseus of many counsels:\n\"Do not wake her yet; but tell the women here\nto come, those who before were plotting shameful things.\"\nSo he spoke, and the old woman had gone through the hall\nto tell the women and to urge them to come.\nAnd he, calling Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd\nto himself, spoke winged words:\n\"Begin now to carry out the dead, and give the women their orders;\nand then the very beautiful chairs and the tables\nwash with water and with porous sponges.\nAnd when you have set the whole house in order,\nlead the maidservants out of the well-built hall,\nbetween the round building and the good wall of the courtyard,\nand smite them with long-edged swords, until you have taken\nthe lives from them all, and they forget Aphrodite,\nwhom they had beneath the suitors and mingled with in secret.\"\nSo he spoke, and the women came all together,\nwailing terribly, pouring down a big tear.\nFirst they carried out the corpses of the dead,\nand laid them under the portico of the well-fenced courtyard,\npropping them against one another; and Odysseus gave the orders,\nhimself urging them on; and they carried them out by compulsion.\nAnd then the very beautiful chairs and the tables\nthey washed with water and with porous sponges.\nAnd Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd\nwith scrapers scoured the floor of the well-made house;\nand the maidservants carried it out and put it outside.\nBut when they had set the whole hall in order,\nand led the maidservants out of the well-built hall,\nbetween the round building and the good wall of the courtyard,\nthey penned them in a narrow place, from which there was no escape.\nAnd Telemachus, wise of heart, began to speak to them:\n\"I would not take the lives of these with a clean death,\nthese who poured insults upon my head\nand upon my mother, and lay beside the suitors.\"\nSo he spoke, and tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship\nto a great pillar, and flung it round the round building,\nstretching it high up, so that no one's feet might reach the floor.\nAnd as when either long-winged thrushes or doves\nare caught in a snare, which is set in a thicket,\nas they come in to roost, and a hateful bed receives them;\nso their heads were in a row, and about all of them\nwere nooses on their necks, so that they might die most piteously.\nAnd they twitched with their feet for a little while, but not very long.\nAnd they brought Melanthius out through the porch and the courtyard;\nand they cut off his nose and his ears with the pitiless bronze,\nand tore out his privy parts, to give them raw to the dogs,\nand cut off his hands and his feet in their angry hearts.\nThen they washed their hands and their feet\nand went into the house of Odysseus, and the work was accomplished;\nand he spoke to his dear nurse Eurycleia:\n\"Bring sulphur, old woman, the cure of evils, and bring me fire,\nso that I may fumigate the hall; and tell Penelope\nto come here with her attendant women;\nand urge all the maidservants to come through the house.\"\nAnd her dear nurse Eurycleia answered him:\n\"Yes indeed, my child, you have spoken as is right.\nBut come, let me bring you a cloak and a tunic and clothing,\nand do not stand like this in the halls, covered with rags\nover your broad shoulders; that would be a thing for reproach.\"\nAnd answering her spoke Odysseus of many counsels:\n\"First of all, let there be a fire for me in the halls.\"\nSo he spoke, and his dear nurse Eurycleia did not disobey,\nand she brought fire and sulphur; and Odysseus\nfumigated the hall well, and the house and the courtyard.\nAnd the old woman went back through the fine halls of Odysseus\nto tell the women and to urge them to come;\nand they came out of the hall, holding torches in their hands.\nAnd they crowded about him and greeted Odysseus,\nand kissed his head and shoulders, clasping him in welcome,\nand took his hands; and a sweet longing seized him\nfor weeping and groaning, and in his heart he knew them all.\n\n### Book 23\n\nSo the old woman went up to the upper chamber, exulting,\nto tell her mistress that her dear husband was within the house;\nand her knees were strengthened, and her feet hurried beneath her.\nShe stood above her head and spoke a word to her:\nAwake, Penelope, dear child, so that you may see\nwith your own eyes the things you have longed for all your days.\nOdysseus has come, and is here at the house, though late he came.\nAnd he has killed the proud suitors, who were devouring his house\nand his possessions, and were lording it over his son.\nThen wise Penelope answered her again:\nDear nurse, the gods have made you mad, the gods who are able\nto make a fool of even one who is very wise,\nand to set the light-minded man upon the path of prudence;\nthey have hurt you; before this you were of sound mind.\nWhy do you mock me, who have a heart full of mourning,\ntelling me these things beyond the truth, and waking me out of sleep\nthat was sweet, which bound my dear eyelids over my eyes?\nFor never yet have I slept so deep, since the day Odysseus\nwent away to look on evil Troy, whose name should not be spoken.\nBut come now, go down and go back to the hall.\nFor if any other woman of those who are mine\nhad come and told me this and woken me out of sleep,\nI would have sent her off swiftly to go back with a curse\nagain within the hall; but for you this old age will be a gain.\nThen her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:\nI am not mocking you, dear child, but it is in truth\nthat Odysseus has come and is here at the house, as I tell you,\nthe stranger, whom all men in the halls dishonored.\nAnd Telemachus knew long ago that he was within,\nbut in his prudence he hid his father's purpose,\nuntil he should exact payment for the violence of the overweening men.\nSo she spoke, and she rejoiced, and leaping from the bed\nshe clung about the old woman, and from her eyelids a tear fell;\nand she spoke to her, addressing her with winged words:\nCome now, dear nurse, tell me truly,\nwhether in truth he has come home, as you say,\nand how it was he laid hands on the shameless suitors\nbeing alone, while they always remained within, gathered together.\nThen her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:\nI did not see, I did not hear, but only the groaning I heard\nof men being killed; and we in the corner of the well-built chambers\nsat terrified, and the close-fitting doors held us in,\nuntil your son Telemachus called me from the hall;\nfor his father had sent him to call me.\nThen I found Odysseus standing among the slain corpses;\nand they lay around him on the hard-beaten floor,\none upon another; you would have warmed your heart to see it.\nBut now they all lie at the courtyard doors,\ngathered together, while he purifies the beautiful house,\nhaving kindled a great fire; and he has sent me to call you.\nBut follow me, so that you two may enter into joy,\nboth of you, in your dear hearts, since you have suffered much evil.\nAnd now at last this long desire has been fulfilled;\nhe has come home himself alive, and he has found you\nand your son in the halls; and the evil they did against him,\nthe suitors, he has taken payment from them all in his own house.\nThen wise Penelope answered her again:\nDear nurse, do not yet boast greatly in your exultation.\nFor you know how welcome he would appear in the halls\nto all, and most of all to me and to the son we bore;\nbut this tale of yours is not true, as you tell it,\nbut one of the immortals killed the noble suitors,\nangered at their heart-grieving arrogance and their evil deeds.\nFor they honored no man upon the earth,\nneither bad nor good, whoever came among them;\ntherefore through their folly they suffered evil; but Odysseus\nhas lost his homecoming far from Achaea, and has perished himself.\nThen her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:\nMy child, what word has escaped the fence of your teeth,\nwhen you say that your husband, who is within, beside the hearth,\nwill never come home; but your heart is always unbelieving.\nBut come, I will tell you another very clear sign,\nthe scar, which a boar once struck on him with its white tusk.\nWhile washing it I noticed it, and I wished to tell you yourself;\nbut he caught me by the mouth with his hands\nand did not let me speak, in the wisdom of his mind.\nBut come; and I will stake my own life,\nif I deceive you, that you may kill me with the most pitiable death.\nThen wise Penelope answered her:\nDear nurse, it is hard to search out the purposes of the gods\nwho live forever, even for one very wise.\nBut still, let us go to my son, so that I may see\nthe suitors dead, and him who killed them.\nSo she spoke, and went down from the upper chamber; and much her heart\npondered whether she should question her dear husband from afar,\nor stand beside him and kiss his head and take his hands.\nAnd when she came in and crossed the stone threshold,\nshe sat down opposite Odysseus, in the light of the fire,\nagainst the other wall; but he sat looking down\ntoward the long pillar, waiting to see whether his noble wife\nwould say something to him, since he had seen her with his eyes.\nShe sat a long while in silence, and amazement came to her heart;\nand with her eyes she would look at him face to face at one moment,\nand at another she would not know him, for the evil clothes on his body.\nBut Telemachus rebuked her and spoke a word and called her by name:\nMother, my mother, harsh mother, with a heart without pity,\nwhy do you hold yourself apart from my father like this, and do not\nsit beside him and ask him with words and question him?\nNo other woman at all, with such an enduring heart,\nwould hold herself off from her husband, who after suffering much evil\nhad come back to his native land in the twentieth year;\nbut your heart is forever harder than stone.\nThen wise Penelope answered him again:\nMy child, the heart in my breast is stunned,\nand I cannot speak a word nor ask a question\nnor look him in the face straight on. But if in truth\nit is Odysseus and he has come home, then we two surely\nshall know each other the better; for we have\ntokens, which we two know, hidden from others.\nSo she spoke, and much-enduring noble Odysseus smiled,\nand immediately spoke winged words to Telemachus:\nTelemachus, leave your mother in the halls\nto test me; and soon she will know me the better.\nBut as it is, because I am dirty and wear evil clothes on my body,\ntherefore she dishonors me and says I am not that man.\nBut let us consider how all may turn out best.\nFor even a man who has killed one man in his country,\nwhen there are not many to avenge him afterwards,\nflees, leaving his kin behind and his native land;\nbut we have killed the bulwark of the city, the very best\nof the young men in Ithaca; on this I bid you take thought.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him face to face:\nLook to these things yourself, dear father; for men say your counsel\nis the best among men, and no other man\namong mortals could rival you.\nBut we will follow eagerly along with you, and I say\nI will not fall short in courage, as much strength as is in me.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nThen I will speak, as it seems best to me.\nFirst wash yourselves and put on tunics,\nand bid the women in the halls to choose their clothing;\nbut let the divine singer, holding his clear-toned lyre,\nlead us in the dance that loves play,\nso that one might say it is a wedding, hearing it outside,\neither walking along the road or among those who dwell nearby;\nso that the wide rumor of the killing may not spread through the city\nof the suitors' men, before we go out\nto our field, thick with trees; and there then\nwe shall consider whatever gain Olympian Zeus may put in our hands.\nSo he spoke, and they hearkened to him and obeyed.\nFirst then they washed and put on tunics,\nand the women dressed themselves; and the divine singer took\nthe hollow lyre, and roused in them desire\nof sweet song and blameless dancing.\nAnd the great house resounded with the feet\nof men sporting and women girt fair.\nAnd so someone would say, hearing them outside the house:\nTruly some man has married the much-courted queen;\nhard-hearted woman, she did not endure to keep her rightful husband's\ngreat house to the end, until he should come home.\nSo someone would say, but they did not know how these things were.\nBut Odysseus of the great heart in his own house\nthe housekeeper Eurynome bathed and anointed with oil,\nand threw about him a fair mantle and a tunic;\nand on his head Athena poured much beauty,\ntaller to look upon and fuller; and down from his head\nshe sent curling hair, like the hyacinth flower.\nAs when a man pours gold over silver, one\nskilled, whom Hephaestus taught and Pallas Athena\nin every craft, and he finishes graceful works;\nso she poured grace over his head and his shoulders.\nAnd he came from the bath, like the immortals in body;\nand again he sat down on the throne from which he had risen,\nopposite his own wife, and spoke a word to her:\nStrange woman, the gods who hold Olympian homes have made\nyour heart unsoftening beyond all other women;\nno other woman at all, with an enduring heart,\nwould hold herself off from her husband, who after suffering much evil\nhad come in the twentieth year to his native land.\nBut come, nurse, make me a bed, so that I myself\nmay lie down; for truly this woman has an iron heart in her breast.\nThen wise Penelope answered him again:\nReckless man, I neither take proud airs nor make light of you,\nnor am I overmuch amazed; but I know very well what you were like\nwhen you came from Ithaca on a ship of long oars.\nBut come, Eurycleia, make him a firm bed\noutside the well-founded chamber, the one he built himself;\nand there, throwing down the firm bedding, put the bed upon it,\nof hides and blankets and shining rugs.\nSo she spoke, testing her husband; but Odysseus\nvexed at heart spoke to his faithful wife:\nWoman, in truth this was a deeply painful word you said.\nWho has set my bed in another place? It would be hard\neven for one very skilled, unless a god himself came\nand easily, being willing, set it in another place.\nBut among men no living mortal, not even one in his prime,\ncould easily stir it aside, since a great sign has been made\nin the wrought bed; and I made it, and no other man.\nThere grew a long-leaved olive tree within the walled court,\nin its prime and flourishing; and its thickness was like a pillar.\nRound it I built a bedroom, until I had finished it,\nwith close-set stones, and I roofed it well above,\nand set in it fitted doors, closely joined.\nAnd then I cut off the foliage of the long-leaved olive,\nand trimmed the trunk from the root, cutting it with bronze,\nwell and skillfully, and I straightened it to the line,\nworking it into a bedpost, and I bored all the holes with an auger.\nFrom that beginning I fashioned the bed, until I had finished it,\nadorning it with gold and silver and ivory;\nand I stretched through it a thong of oxhide, shining with purple.\nSo I make this sign plain to you; and I know nothing\nwhether my bed is still fast in place, wife, or whether some man\nhas set it elsewhere, cutting the base of the olive beneath it.\nSo he spoke, and her knees and her dear heart were loosed,\nas she recognized the signs that Odysseus had told her plainly.\nThen she wept and ran straight to him, and about his neck\nshe threw her arms to Odysseus, and kissed his head and spoke:\nDo not be angry with me, Odysseus, since in all other things\nyou were the most understanding of men; the gods gave us sorrow,\nwho begrudged us that we two, staying beside each other,\nshould enjoy our youth and reach the threshold of old age.\nBut do not now be angry with me for this nor resent me,\nbecause I did not welcome you like this the first moment I saw you.\nFor always the heart in my dear breast\nshuddered lest some mortal should deceive me with words\nand come; for many men plan evil gains.\nNot even Argive Helen, born of Zeus,\nwould have mingled in love and bed with a foreign man,\nif she had known that the warlike sons of the Achaeans\nwould bring her back home to her dear native land.\nBut a god urged her on to do a shameful deed;\nthat ruin she did not first lay up in her own heart,\nthe baneful ruin from which grief first came even to us.\nBut now, since you have told the very clear signs\nof our bed, which no other mortal has seen,\nbut only you and I and one single handmaid,\nActor's daughter, whom my father gave me when I came here,\nwho guarded the doors of our firm chamber for us,\nyou persuade my heart, though it is very hard.\nSo she spoke, and in him she roused still more longing for lament;\nand he wept holding his heart's-wife, the faithful-minded woman.\nAs when land appears welcome to men swimming,\nwhose well-built ship Poseidon has wrecked on the sea,\ndriven on by wind and solid wave;\nand few escaped the gray sea to the mainland\nby swimming, with much brine crusted over their skin,\nand gladly they set foot on land, escaping misery;\nso welcome to her was her husband as she looked upon him,\nand from his neck she did not yet let go her white arms.\nAnd now rosy-fingered Dawn would have appeared to them as they lamented,\nhad not the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, thought of another thing.\nShe held back the long night at its limit, and again Dawn\nshe kept away from Ocean, the golden-throned one, and did not let\nthe swift-footed horses be yoked, that bring light to men,\nLampus and Phaethon, the colts that draw Dawn.\nAnd then much-devising Odysseus spoke to his wife:\nWoman, we have not yet come to the limit of all our trials,\nbut still hereafter there will be immeasurable toil,\nmuch and hard, which I must accomplish all.\nFor so the soul of Teiresias prophesied to me\non the day when I went down into the house of Hades,\nseeking the homecoming for my comrades and for myself.\nBut come, let us go to bed, woman, so that now at last\nwe may enjoy sweet sleep, lying down.\nThen wise Penelope answered him again:\nThe bed will be yours whenever in your heart\nyou wish it, since the gods have made you come\nto your well-built home and your native land;\nbut since you have thought of it and a god has put it in your mind,\ncome, tell me the trial, since I think I shall learn of it\nhereafter too, and to know it at once is no worse.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nStrange woman, why do you again urge me so strongly and bid me\ntell it? But I will speak, and I will not hide it.\nYour heart will not be gladdened; for I myself\ndo not rejoice, since he ordered me to go to many cities of men,\nholding in my hands a well-made oar,\nuntil I come to those who do not know the sea,\nmen who do not eat food mixed with salt;\nwho do not know ships with red-painted cheeks,\nnor well-made oars, which are wings for ships.\nAnd he told me this clear sign, and I will not hide it from you:\nwhen another wayfarer, meeting me,\nsays that I have a winnowing-fan on my bright shoulder,\nthen he told me to fix the oar in the earth,\nand after doing fair holy rites to lord Poseidon,\na ram and a bull and a boar that mounts sows,\nto go home again, and to do holy hecatombs\nto the immortal gods who hold the wide heaven,\nall of them in order; and death will come to me from the sea,\na very gentle one, such as will kill me\nworn with sleek old age; and about me the peoples\nwill be prosperous; and he said all this would be fulfilled.\nThen wise Penelope answered him again:\nIf indeed the gods will fulfil a better old age,\nthen there is hope that there will be an escape from evils.\nSo they spoke such things to each other;\nand meanwhile Eurynome and the nurse prepared the bed\nwith soft bedding, under the light of torches.\nBut when they had spread the firm bed, hurrying,\nthe old woman went back to lie down in her own place,\nand the chambermaid Eurynome led them\nas they came to bed, holding a torch in her hands;\nand having brought them to the chamber she went away again. And then they\ngladly came to the ordinance of their old bed;\nbut Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd\nstopped their feet from dancing, and stopped the women,\nand they themselves lay down through the shadowy halls.\nAnd when the two had enjoyed their lovely love,\nthey delighted in stories, speaking to each other:\nshe told all that she had endured in the halls, the shining among women,\nlooking on the crowd of suitors, destroyers of men,\nwho for her sake slaughtered many oxen and fat sheep,\nand much wine was drawn from the jars;\nand Zeus-born Odysseus told all the woes he had laid\non men, and all that he himself had suffered in his toil;\nhe told it all, and she delighted in hearing, and sleep\ndid not fall on her eyelids before he had told all.\nHe began with how he first subdued the Cicones, and then\ncame to the rich farmland of the Lotus-eaters;\nand all that the Cyclops did, and how he exacted the penalty\nfor his stout comrades, whom he ate and did not pity;\nand how he came to Aeolus, who received him kindly\nand sent him off, but it was not yet his fate to reach his dear native land,\nbut again a storm snatched him up and carried him\nover the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily;\nand how he came to Telepylus of the Laestrygonians,\nwho destroyed his ships and his well-greaved comrades,\nall of them; and Odysseus alone escaped with his black ship;\nand he told of Circe's guile and her many devices,\nand how he came to the dank house of Hades,\nto consult the soul of Theban Teiresias,\nin his many-benched ship, and saw all his comrades\nand his mother, who bore him and raised him when he was small;\nand how he heard the voice of the clear-sounding Sirens,\nand how he came to the Wandering Rocks and dread Charybdis\nand Scylla, whom no men ever escaped unharmed;\nand how his comrades killed the cattle of the Sun;\nand how Zeus who thunders on high struck his swift ship with a smoking bolt,\nand his noble comrades perished\nall together, and he alone escaped the evil fates;\nand how he came to Ogygia, the island, and the nymph Calypso,\nwho kept him there, longing for him to be her husband,\nin her hollow caves, and fed him and said\nshe would make him immortal and ageless all his days;\nbut she never persuaded the heart in his breast;\nand how he came to the Phaeacians after much suffering,\nwho honored him in their hearts like a god\nand sent him with a ship to his dear native land,\ngiving him bronze and gold in abundance and clothing.\nThis was the last word he spoke, when sweet sleep\ncame upon him, looser of limbs, loosing the cares of his heart.\nThen again the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, thought of another thing:\nwhen she thought that Odysseus in his heart\nhad had his joy of his wife's bed and of sleep,\nat once she roused golden-throned early-born Dawn from Ocean,\nto bring light to men; and Odysseus rose\nfrom the soft bed, and laid a word upon his wife:\nWoman, we two have had our fill of many trials,\nboth of us; you here, weeping for my homecoming\nwith its many cares; and me Zeus and the other gods\nkept down with sorrows, as I yearned, away from my native land;\nbut now, since we have both come to our much-desired bed,\nyou must care for the possessions that are mine in the halls,\nand the flocks, which the overbearing suitors have ravaged;\nI myself will plunder much, and the Achaeans\nwill give more, until they fill all my farmsteads.\nBut I will go to the tree-filled field,\nto see my noble father, who is sorely grieved for me;\nand to you, woman, I give this charge, wise as you are:\nfor at once the report will go out with the rising sun\nof the suitors' men, whom I killed in the halls;\ngo up to the upper chamber with your women attendants\nand sit there, and do not look out nor ask questions.\nHe spoke, and put about his shoulders his fair armor,\nand roused Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd,\nand ordered them all to take the weapons of war in their hands.\nThey did not disobey him, but armed themselves in bronze,\nand opened the doors and went out; Odysseus led the way.\nAlready there was light upon the earth, but Athena\nhid them in night and quickly led them out of the city.\n\n### Book 24\n\nHermes of Cyllene was calling forth the souls\nof the suitors; and he held in his hands a rod\nbeautiful and golden, wherewith he charms the eyes of men\nwhom he will, and others again he rouses even as they sleep:\nwith this he stirred and led them on, and they followed, gibbering.\nAs when bats in the recess of a wondrous cave\nflit gibbering, when one has fallen\nfrom the cluster on the rock, and they cling to one another,\nso these went along with squeaking cries; and before them led\nHermes, the kindly guide, along the dank pathways.\nPast the streams of Ocean they came and the White Rock,\nand past the gates of the Sun and the land of dreams\nthey went; and swiftly they came to the meadow of asphodel,\nwhere dwell the souls, the phantoms of the dead outworn.\nThey found there the soul of Achilles, son of Peleus,\nand of Patroclus, and of blameless Antilochus,\nand of Ajax, who was best in form and in build\nof all the other Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus.\nSo these were gathered about him; and near at hand\ncame the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,\ngrieving; and about him were gathered all the others, as many as with him\nin the house of Aegisthus had died and met their doom.\nHim the soul of the son of Peleus addressed first:\nSon of Atreus, we said that you were dear above all to Zeus who delights in thunder,\namong hero-men, all the days,\nbecause you were lord over many and mighty men\nin the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered sorrows.\nTruly even for you an early doom was destined\nto stand beside you, that doom which no man escapes who is born.\nWould that you had enjoyed the honor, of which you were lord,\nin the land of the Trojans, and met death and doom;\nthen all the Achaeans would have made you a tomb,\nand would have won great glory for your son hereafter;\nbut now it was fated that you be taken in most piteous death.\nThen the soul of the son of Atreus answered him:\nBlessed son of Peleus, godlike Achilles,\nwho died in Troy, far from Argos; and about you others\nwere slain, the sons of the Trojans and the best of the Achaeans,\nfighting for your sake; but you in the whirlwind of dust\nlay, great in your greatness, forgetful of your horsemanship.\nAnd we fought the whole day long; nor would we ever\nhave ceased from war, had Zeus not stopped it with a storm.\nBut when we had carried you from the battle to the ships,\nwe laid you on a bier, and cleansed your fair body\nwith warm water and with oil; and about you many\nwarm tears the Danaans shed, and cut their hair.\nAnd your mother came from the sea with the immortal sea-nymphs,\nhearing the tidings; and a cry arose over the deep,\na wondrous one, and trembling seized all the Achaeans.\nAnd now they would have leaped up and gone to the hollow ships,\nhad not a man restrained them, old and knowing many things,\nNestor, whose counsel had before shown itself the best.\nHe, with kindly thought, addressed them and said:\nHold, Argives, do not flee, you sons of the Achaeans;\nthis is his mother from the sea, with the immortal sea-nymphs,\ncoming to meet her dead son.\nSo he spoke, and they held back, the great-hearted Achaeans;\nand about you stood the daughters of the old man of the sea,\npiteously lamenting, and clothed you in immortal garments.\nAnd all nine Muses, answering one another with beautiful voice,\nmade lament; and there you would have seen no one\nof the Argives tearless; so deeply did the clear-voiced Muse stir them.\nAnd seventeen days alike, nights and days,\nwe wept, both the immortal gods and mortal men;\nand on the eighteenth we gave you to the fire, and about you\nwe slew many sheep, very fat, and horned cattle.\nAnd you burned in the clothing of the gods and in much oil\nand sweet honey; and many heroes, Achaeans,\nstrengthened themselves with their armor about the burning pyre,\nboth footmen and horsemen; and a great din arose.\nBut when the flame of Hephaestus had made an end of you,\nat dawn we gathered your white bones, Achilles,\nin unmixed wine and in oil; and your mother gave\na golden two-handled urn; and the gift of Dionysus\nshe said it was, and the work of renowned Hephaestus.\nIn that your white bones lie, splendid Achilles,\nmingled with Patroclus, son of Menoetius, who had died,\nand apart with Antilochus, whom you honored beyond all\nyour other comrades, after Patroclus at least had died.\nAnd about them then a great and blameless tomb\nwe heaped up, the sacred host of the Argives, spearmen,\non a jutting headland of the wide Hellespont,\nso that it might be seen afar from the sea by men\nwho now are born and who shall be hereafter.\nAnd your mother, asking the gods for very beautiful prizes,\nset them in the midst of the contest for the best of the Achaeans.\nAlready at the burial of many men\nof heroes you have been present, when a king has died\nand the young men gird themselves and prepare the contests;\nbut those you would have marveled at above all in your heart,\nsuch as the goddess set before you, the very beautiful prizes,\nsilver-footed Thetis; for you were very dear to the gods.\nSo you did not lose your name even in death, but forever\namong all men your good fame shall be, Achilles;\nbut what joy was that to me, since I had wound up the war?\nFor on my return Zeus devised for me a grievous destruction\nby the hands of Aegisthus and my accursed wife.\nSo these two spoke such words to one another,\nand near them came the guide, the slayer of Argus,\nbringing down the souls of the suitors slain by Odysseus;\nand the two, astonished, went straight toward them, when they saw them.\nAnd the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, knew\nthe dear son of Melaneus, glorious Amphimedon;\nfor he had been his host, dwelling in Ithaca in his house.\nThe soul of the son of Atreus spoke to him first:\nAmphimedon, what has befallen you, that you went down into the dark earth,\nall chosen men and of like age? Not otherwise\nwould one, choosing, gather the best men in a city.\nDid Poseidon overpower you in your ships,\nrousing grievous winds and long waves?\nOr did hostile men do you harm on the land,\nas you were cutting off cattle or fair flocks of sheep,\nor fighting for a city and for women?\nTell me, who ask you; for I declare that I am your host.\nDo you not remember when I came there to your house,\nurging Odysseus, with godlike Menelaus,\nto follow with me to Ilion in the well-benched ships?\nAnd in a whole month we crossed all the wide sea,\nwith difficulty persuading Odysseus, the sacker of cities.\nThen the soul of Amphimedon answered him:\nMost glorious son of Atreus, lord of men Agamemnon,\nI remember all these things, heaven-nurtured, as you say;\nand I will recount to you all things very well and truly,\nthe evil end of our death, how it came to pass.\nWe wooed the wife of Odysseus, long gone away;\nand she neither refused the hateful marriage nor brought it to an end,\ndevising death and black doom for us,\nbut this other trick she planned in her mind:\nshe set up a great loom in the halls and wove,\nfine and of great size; and straightway she said to us:\nYou young men, my suitors, since noble Odysseus is dead,\nwait, eager though you are for my marriage, until I finish\nthis shroud, that the yarn I have spun not be wasted,\na burial garment for the hero Laertes, against the time when\nthe destroying doom of death that brings long sorrow lays him low,\nlest some one of the Achaean women in the land blame me,\nif he lies without a shroud, though he has won much wealth.\nSo she spoke, and our proud hearts were persuaded.\nThen by day she wove the great loom,\nand by night she undid it, when she had set the torches beside her.\nSo for three years she hid by trickery and persuaded the Achaeans;\nbut when the fourth year came and the seasons came round,\nas the months waned and many days were brought to an end,\nthen at last one of the women told, who knew it well,\nand we found her undoing the splendid web.\nSo she finished it, though unwilling, under compulsion.\nAnd when she showed the shroud, having woven the great web,\nhaving washed it, like the sun or the moon,\nthen at last some evil spirit brought Odysseus\nto the edge of the field, where the swineherd had his dwelling.\nThere came the dear son of godlike Odysseus,\ncoming from sandy Pylos in a black ship;\nand the two, having prepared evil death for the suitors,\ncame to the famous city, and Odysseus indeed\ncame later, but Telemachus led the way before.\nAnd the swineherd led him, wearing evil clothing on his body,\nlike a wretched beggar and an old man,\nleaning on a staff; and the wretched clothes he wore upon his body;\nnor could any of us know him as he was,\nsuddenly appearing, not even those who were older,\nbut we reviled him with evil words and with throws.\nBut he for a time endured in his own halls\nbeing struck and reviled with an enduring heart;\nbut when the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus roused him,\nwith Telemachus he lifted the very beautiful armor\nand laid it in the chamber and closed the doors;\nbut he urged his wife, with her many wiles,\nto set the bow and the gray iron before the suitors,\nfor us ill-fated ones, a contest and a beginning of slaughter.\nNor could any of us string the bowstring of the mighty bow,\nfor we were far too weak.\nBut when the great bow came into the hands of Odysseus,\nthen we all called out with words\nthat the bow should not be given, however much he might speak;\nbut Telemachus alone urged him and commanded it.\nAnd the much-enduring, noble Odysseus took it in his hand,\nand easily strung the bow, and shot through the iron,\nand he stood, coming to the threshold, and poured out swift arrows\nlooking terribly about, and he struck Antinous, the king.\nAnd thereafter he loosed painful shafts at the others,\naiming straight at them; and they fell in heaps.\nAnd it was known that some god was their helper;\nfor at once, following through the halls with their own fury,\nthey kept killing on every side, and a shameful groaning rose from them\nas their heads were struck, and all the floor flowed with blood.\nSo we perished, Agamemnon, and even now\nour bodies lie uncared for in the halls of Odysseus;\nfor our friends in each man's house do not yet know,\nwho might wash the black gore from the wounds\nand lay us out and lament; for that is the honor of the dead.\nThen the soul of the son of Atreus answered him:\nBlessed son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus,\nsurely with great virtue did you win your wife.\nWhat good sense had blameless Penelope,\nthe daughter of Icarius; how well she remembered Odysseus,\nher wedded husband; therefore her fame shall never perish\nfor her virtue, and the immortals will make a song\nfor men on earth, a pleasing one, for wise Penelope,\nnot as the daughter of Tyndareus devised evil deeds,\nwho killed her wedded husband, and a hateful song\nshall be among men, and she gives a harsh report\nto womankind, even to her who is virtuous.\nSo these two spoke such words to one another,\nstanding in the house of Hades, beneath the depths of the earth;\nbut the others, when they had gone down from the city, quickly came to the field,\nthe fair farm of Laertes, built by him, which once\nLaertes himself had acquired, when he had toiled very much.\nThere was his house, and a shed ran round it on every side,\nin which the necessary slaves ate and sat and slept,\nwho worked for him with love.\nAnd in it was a Sicilian old woman, who tended the old man\ncarefully in the field, away from the city.\nThere Odysseus spoke a word to his slaves and his son:\nYou now go inside the well-built house,\nand sacrifice at once the best hog for dinner;\nbut I will make trial of my father,\nwhether he will recognize me and perceive me with his eyes,\nor will fail to know me, being long apart.\nSo saying, he gave battle-gear to the slaves.\nThey then went quickly to the house, but Odysseus\nwent near to the fruitful orchard, making trial.\nHe did not find Dolius, going down into the great garden,\nnor any of the slaves nor of the sons; but they\nhad gone to gather stones for the wall of the orchard,\nand the old man was leading the way for them.\nBut he found his father alone in the well-built orchard,\ndigging about a plant; and he wore a filthy tunic,\npatched and shameful, and about his shins\nhe had bound stitched ox-hide greaves, guarding against scratches,\nand gloves on his hands because of the briars; and above\nhe had a goatskin cap on his head, adding to his grief.\nAnd when the much-enduring, noble Odysseus perceived him\nworn by old age, and having great grief in his heart,\nhe stood beneath a tall pear tree and shed a tear.\nAnd he pondered then in his mind and heart\nwhether to kiss and embrace his father, and tell him\neach thing, how he had come and reached his native land,\nor first to question him and try him in each thing.\nAnd as he thought, this seemed to him the better way,\nfirst to test him with mocking words.\nThinking this, the noble Odysseus went straight to him.\nIndeed the old man was bending his head, digging about a plant;\nand standing beside him, his splendid son spoke to him:\nOld man, no lack of skill do you have in tending\nthe orchard, but your care is good, and in no way,\nneither plant, nor fig tree, nor vine, nor olive,\nnor pear, nor garden bed, is without care in the garden.\nBut another thing I will tell you, and do not put anger in your heart:\nno good care is yours, but at the same time\nyou have wretched old age, and you are squalid and poorly clad and shamefully dressed.\nIt is not because of idleness that your master tends you,\nnor does it befit you at all to be seen\nas a slave in form and stature; for you are like a kingly man.\nYou are like such a one, when he has bathed and eaten,\nto sleep softly; for that is the way of old men.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it truly,\nwhose slave are you among men? Whose orchard do you tend?\nAnd tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well,\nwhether we have truly come to this Ithaca, as a man told me,\nthis man just now met as I was coming here,\nnot very sound of mind, since he did not dare\nto tell me each thing or hear my word, as I asked\nabout my guest, whether he still lives and is\nor has already died and is in the house of Hades.\nFor I will tell you, and do you understand and listen to me:\nonce I entertained a man in my dear native land\nwhen he came to my house, and never yet had any other mortal\nof far-off guest-friends come to my house as a friend;\nand he claimed to be of the race of Ithaca, and he said\nthat Laertes, son of Arceisius, was his father.\nI led him to my house and entertained him well,\nkindly, since there were many things in the house,\nand I gave him gifts of hospitality, as was fitting.\nOf well-wrought gold I gave him seven talents,\nand I gave him a mixing bowl, all of silver, flowered,\nand twelve single cloaks, and as many rugs,\nand as many fair sheets, and as many tunics besides,\nand besides, women, knowing blameless works,\nfour, beautiful, whom he himself wished to choose.\nThen his father answered him, shedding a tear:\nStranger, you have indeed come to the land you ask about,\nbut insolent and reckless men hold it;\nand these gifts you gave for nothing, giving countless things;\nfor if you had found him alive in the land of Ithaca,\nhe would have sent you away, having repaid you well with gifts\nand good hospitality; for that is right, for whoever gives first.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it truly,\nhow many years is it since you entertained that man,\nthat poor guest of yours, my son, if ever he was,\nill-fated? Whom somewhere far from friends and native land\neither fish in the sea have eaten, or on the land\nhe became spoil for beasts and birds; nor did his mother\nlament him and lay him out, nor his father, we who bore him;\nnor did his richly dowered wife, wise Penelope,\nwail over her husband on the bed, as was fitting,\nclosing his eyes; for that is the honor of the dead.\nAnd tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well:\nwho are you among men, and whence? Where is your city and your parents?\nWhere stands your swift ship, which brought you here,\nand your godlike comrades? Or have you come as a trader\non a ship belonging to others, and they have disembarked and gone away?\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nTherefore I will recount to you all things very truly.\nI am from Alybas, where I dwell in famous halls,\nthe son of Apheidas, son of lord Polypemon;\nand my name is Eperitus; but a god\ndrove me astray from Sicania to come here unwilling;\nand this ship of mine stands at the field away from the city.\nAnd for Odysseus this is now the fifth year,\nsince he went away from there and left my country,\nill-fated; yet surely his birds were good as he went,\non the right hand, and rejoicing in them I sent him away,\nand he rejoiced as he went; and our hearts still hoped\nto meet in hospitality and give glorious gifts.\nSo he spoke, and a black cloud of grief covered him;\nand with both hands he took up the dark dust\nand poured it over his gray head, groaning thickly.\nAnd his spirit was stirred, and up through his nostrils\nthe sharp fury rushed, as he looked at his dear father.\nAnd he kissed him and clung to him, springing upon him, and said:\nThat man is here, I myself, father, whom you seek;\nI have come in the twentieth year to my native land.\nBut cease from weeping and lamentation and tearful groaning.\nFor I will tell you; and it is very necessary to make haste nonetheless:\nI have killed the suitors in our halls,\navenging their painful outrage and their evil deeds.\nThen Laertes answered him and said:\nIf indeed you have come here as Odysseus, my son,\ntell me now some manifest sign, so that I may be persuaded.\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nFirst, this scar, mark it with your eyes,\nwhich the boar struck me with its white tusk in Parnassus\nwhen I went there; but you and my lady mother sent me\nto my father Autolycus, my mother's dear father, so that I might receive\nthe gifts which he promised and pledged to me on coming here.\nBut come, I will tell you also of the trees in the well-built orchard,\nwhich you once gave me, and I asked you for each one,\nwhen I was a child, following you in the garden; and through them\nwe walked, and you named and told me each one.\nYou gave me thirteen pear trees and ten apple trees,\nand forty fig trees; and you named the rows\nyou would give, fifty of them, and each one was\nof varied grapes; and there are grapes of all kinds upon them —\nwhen the seasons of Zeus come on heavily from above.\nSo he spoke, and his knees and dear heart were loosed,\nas he recognized the signs which Odysseus had told him securely.\nAnd he threw his arms about his dear son; and to himself\nmuch-enduring, noble Odysseus caught him as he swooned.\nBut when he revived and his spirit was gathered into his breast,\nagain he answered him with words and said:\nFather Zeus, surely the gods are still on high Olympus,\nif truly the suitors have paid for their reckless outrage.\nBut now I greatly fear in my heart lest all the Ithacans\nsoon come here, and the tidings\nthey send everywhere to the cities of the Cephallenians.\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nTake heart, do not let these things weigh on your heart.\nBut let us go to the house, which lies near the orchard;\nand there I sent Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd\nahead, so that they might prepare dinner quickly.\nSo speaking, the two went to the fair house.\nAnd when they came to the well-built house,\nthey found Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd\ncarving much meat and mixing the flaming wine.\nMeanwhile for great-hearted Laertes in his own house\nthe Sicilian handmaid bathed him and anointed him with oil,\nand threw a fair cloak about him; and Athena\nstanding near made the shepherd of the people grow in limb,\nand made him greater and more stout to look upon than before.\nHe came out of the bath; and his dear son marveled at him,\nwhen he saw him like the immortal gods to look upon;\nand he spoke to him, and addressed him with winged words:\nFather, surely some one of the ever-living gods\nhas made you better in form and stature to look upon.\nThen wise Laertes answered him and said:\nWould that, father Zeus and Athena and Apollo,\nas when I took Nericus, the well-built citadel,\nthe headland of the mainland, ruling over the Cephallenians,\nsuch as I was then, I were in our house yesterday,\nwith weapons on my shoulders, to stand by and defend\nagainst the suitors; then I would have loosed their knees\nfor many in the halls, and you would have rejoiced in your heart within.\nSo these two spoke such words to one another.\nBut when they had ceased from toil and prepared the feast,\nthey sat down in order on the benches and chairs;\nthen they set to the meal, and near at hand\ncame the old man Dolius, and with him the sons of the old man,\nwearied from their work, since she had come forth and called them,\nthe Sicilian old woman, who nourished them and tended\nthe old man carefully, when old age had seized him.\nAnd when they saw Odysseus and perceived him in their hearts,\nthey stood in the halls in amazement; and Odysseus\naddressed them, accosting them with gentle words:\nOld man, sit down to the meal, and forget your amazement;\nfor we have long been waiting in the halls, eager\nto set to the food, always awaiting you.\nSo he spoke, and Dolius went straight to him with outstretched\nboth hands, and Odysseus took his hand and kissed his wrist,\nand spoke to him, addressing him with winged words:\nDear friend, since you have returned, when we longed for it greatly\nand no longer expected it—and the gods themselves brought you up—\nwelcome, and greatly rejoice, and may the gods give you prosperity.\nAnd tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well,\nwhether wise Penelope already knows clearly\nthat you have returned here, or should we send a messenger?\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nOld man, she knows already; why need you trouble yourself about this?\nSo he spoke, and he sat down again on a well-polished chair.\nAnd likewise the sons of Dolius about the famous Odysseus\ndid him honor with words and clung to his hands,\nand in order they sat down beside Dolius, their father.\nSo these were busy about the meal in the halls;\nand Rumor, as a messenger, went swiftly everywhere through the city,\ntelling of the hateful death and doom of the suitors.\nAnd they, hearing it, came together each from another quarter\nwith wailing and groaning before the house of Odysseus,\nand they carried out the dead from the house, and each buried them,\nand those from other cities each to his own home\nthey sent, putting them on swift ships for the fishermen to carry;\nand they themselves went in a body to the assembly, grieved at heart.\nBut when they were gathered and had come together,\nEupithes stood up among them and said:\nfor in his heart lay unforgettable grief for his son,\nAntinous, whom noble Odysseus had killed first;\nweeping for him he addressed them and said:\nFriends, surely this man has devised a great deed against the Achaeans;\nthose whom he led with his ships, many and brave,\nhe destroyed the hollow ships and destroyed the men;\nand those who came he killed, the best of the Cephallenians.\nBut come, before this man quickly reaches Pylos\nor divine Elis, where the Epeians rule,\nlet us go; or even afterwards we shall always be downcast;\nfor this is a disgrace even for those to come to hear,\nif indeed we do not avenge the murderers of our sons and brothers.\nTo me at least it would not be pleasant in my heart\nto live, but may I die as quickly as possible and be among the dead.\nBut let us go, lest those men cross over first.\nSo he spoke, weeping, and pity seized all the Achaeans.\nAnd near them came Medon and the divine bard\nfrom the halls of Odysseus, when sleep had released them,\nand they stood in the midst; and amazement seized each man.\nAnd Medon, knowing wise things, spoke among them:\nHear me now, Ithacans; for Odysseus did not\ncontrive these deeds against the will of the immortal gods;\nI myself saw an immortal god, who stood\nnear Odysseus and was in all things like Mentor.\nAnd the immortal god at one time appeared before\nOdysseus, encouraging him, and at another roused the suitors\nand rushed through the hall; and they fell in heaps.\nSo he spoke, and pale fear seized them all.\nAnd the old hero Halitherses spoke among them,\nson of Mastor; for he alone saw before and behind;\nhe, with kindly thought, addressed them and said:\nHear me now, Ithacans, what I shall say:\nthrough your own wickedness, friends, these deeds have come to pass;\nfor you did not obey me, nor Mentor, shepherd of the people,\nto stop your sons from their folly,\nwho did a great deed in their evil recklessness,\nwasting the possessions and dishonoring the wife\nof a noble man; and they thought he would not return.\nAnd now let it be so. Obey me as I speak:\nlet us not go, lest someone find added evil.\nSo he spoke, and they leaped up with a great cry,\nmore than half of them; but the others remained together there;\nfor the word did not please them in their hearts, but they obeyed\nEupithes; and at once they rushed to their armor.\nBut when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze,\nthey gathered together before the broad-wayed city.\nAnd Eupithes led them in their folly;\nand he said he would avenge the murder of his son, and he was not\nto return back, but to meet his doom there.\nBut Athena spoke to Zeus, son of Cronus:\nOur father, son of Cronus, highest of rulers,\ntell me, who ask you, what does your mind hide within?\nWill you further prepare evil war and dread battle,\nor will you put friendship between the two sides?\nThen cloud-gathering Zeus answered her and said:\nMy child, why do you ask and question me about this?\nDid you not yourself plan this design,\nthat Odysseus should return and punish those men?\nDo as you wish; and I will tell you what is fitting.\nSince noble Odysseus has punished the suitors,\nlet them cut faithful oaths, and let him be king forever,\nand we in turn for the murder of their sons and brothers\nlet us make a forgetting; and let them love one another\nas before, and let there be wealth and peace in abundance.\nSo saying, he urged Athena, who was eager before,\nand she darted down from the peaks of Olympus.\nBut when they had satisfied their desire for honey-sweet food,\nmuch-enduring, noble Odysseus began the words among them:\nLet someone go out and see that they are not near, coming on.\nSo he spoke; and the son of Dolius went out, as he commanded;\nhe stood, coming to the threshold, and saw them all near;\nand at once he spoke winged words to Odysseus:\nThese are near; but let us arm ourselves more quickly.\nSo he spoke, and they sprang up and put on their armor,\nfour about Odysseus, and six the sons of Dolius;\nand Laertes and Dolius also put on their armor,\ngray though they were, but warriors by necessity.\nBut when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze,\nthey opened the doors and went out, and Odysseus led.\nAnd near them came the daughter of Zeus, Athena,\nlike Mentor in form and in voice.\nAnd much-enduring, noble Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her;\nand at once he spoke to Telemachus, his dear son:\nTelemachus, now you will yourself know this when you go into it,\nwhere men fight and the best are distinguished,\nnot to shame the race of your fathers, who before now\nhave been distinguished in courage and manhood in all the world.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him and said:\nYou will see, if you wish, dear father, that with this spirit\nI will in no way shame your race, as you say.\nSo he spoke, and Laertes rejoiced and spoke a word:\nWhat day is this for me, dear gods? Surely I rejoice greatly;\nmy son and my son's son have a contest over valor.\nAnd standing beside him, bright-eyed Athena spoke:\nSon of Arceisius, by far the dearest of all my comrades,\npray to the bright-eyed maiden and to father Zeus,\nand at once, brandishing it, send forth the long-shadowing spear.\nSo she spoke, and Pallas Athena breathed great strength into him;\nand when he had prayed to the daughter of great Zeus,\nat once, brandishing it, he sent forth the long-shadowing spear,\nand struck Eupithes through the bronze-cheeked helmet.\nAnd it did not keep out the spear, but the bronze went right through,\nand he fell with a thud, and his armor clattered upon him.\nAnd Odysseus and his splendid son fell upon the front ranks,\nand struck with swords and two-edged spears.\nAnd now they would have destroyed them all and made them not to return,\nhad not Athena, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus,\ncried out with her voice, and held back all the people.\nHold back from painful war, Ithacans,\nso that you may be separated quickly without bloodshed.\nSo spoke Athena, and pale fear seized them;\nand in their fear the weapons flew from their hands,\nand all fell to the ground, at the voice of the goddess speaking;\nand they turned toward the city, longing for life.\nAnd much-enduring, noble Odysseus shouted terribly,\nand gathered himself and swooped like an eagle of high flight.\nAnd then the son of Cronus loosed a smoking thunderbolt,\nand it fell before the bright-eyed daughter of the mighty father.\nThen bright-eyed Athena spoke to Odysseus:\nZeus-born son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus,\nhold back, and cease from the strife of equal war,\nlest somehow the son of Cronus, wide-thundering Zeus, be angered at you.\nSo spoke Athena, and he obeyed, and rejoiced in his heart.\nAnd afterwards Pallas Athena set oaths between the two sides,\nthe daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus,\nlike Mentor in form and in voice.","download_url":"https://mouseia.org/api/works/odyssey/translations/trn_odyssey_mouseia.txt"},{"id":"trn_odyssey_plain","translator":"Mouseia","kind":"plain","note":"Mouseia's complete Plain English edition, made independently and directly from all twenty-four books of the Greek, line for line.","text":"### Book 1\n\nTell me, Muse, about the man of many twists and turns, who wandered far\nafter he destroyed the sacred city of Troy.\nHe saw the cities of many peoples and learned how they think,\nand he suffered many pains on the sea, in his heart,\nfighting for his own life and his friends' journey home.\nBut even so he could not save his friends, though he wanted to.\nThey died through their own reckless folly,\nthe fools, who ate the cattle of Helios the Sun,\nand the Sun took away their day of return.\nTell us about all this too, goddess, daughter of Zeus, starting anywhere you like.\nNow all the others who escaped complete destruction\nwere home, safe from war and the sea.\nBut him alone, longing for home and his wife,\nthe goddess Calypso, beautiful among goddesses, kept\nin her hollow caves, wanting him to be her husband.\nBut when the year came, as the seasons rolled around,\nthe year the gods had spun for him to go home,\nto Ithaca, even there he was not yet free of struggles\nor among his own family. All the gods felt sorry for him\nexcept Poseidon. He was furiously angry\nat godlike Odysseus, until he reached his homeland.\nBut Poseidon had gone far away to visit the Ethiopians,\nthe Ethiopians, who live divided in two, the most distant people,\nsome where the sun goes down, some where it comes up,\nto receive a sacrifice of a hundred bulls and rams.\nHe sat there enjoying the feast. Meanwhile the other gods\nwere all together in the halls of Olympian Zeus.\nThe father of gods and men spoke first,\nbecause he was thinking of blameless Aegisthus,\nwhom famous Orestes, Agamemnon's son, had killed.\nThinking of him, he said to the immortal gods:\n\"What a thing it is, how mortals blame the gods!\nThey say evil comes from us, but they themselves\nbring suffering on themselves by their own folly, beyond what is destined,\njust as Aegisthus, beyond his fate, married Agamemnon's wife\nand killed him when he came back,\nthough he knew it meant destruction. We had warned him,\nsending Hermes, the sharp-eyed messenger,\ntelling him not to kill the man or court his wife,\nbecause Orestes would avenge Agamemnon\nas soon as he grew up and wanted his own land back.\nThat is what Hermes said, but he could not change Aegisthus's mind,\ngood as his advice was. Now Aegisthus has paid for everything.\"\nThe goddess Athena, bright-eyed, answered him:\n\"Our Father, son of Cronus, highest of rulers,\nhe certainly got the death he deserved.\nLet anyone else who does such things die the same way.\nBut my heart aches for clever Odysseus,\npoor man, suffering so long far from his family,\non an island washed by the sea, the center of the deep,\na wooded island, and a goddess lives there,\nthe daughter of scheming Atlas, who knows the depths\nof the whole sea, and who himself holds up the long pillars\nthat hold earth and sky apart.\nHis daughter holds the poor man there, weeping,\nalways coaxing him with soft, flattering words\nso he will forget Ithaca. But Odysseus,\nlonging just to see the smoke rising\nfrom his own land, wishes he were dead. And you, Olympian,\ndoes your heart not care at all? Didn't Odysseus\ngive you pleasure with sacrifices by the Greek ships,\nin broad Troy? Why are you so angry with him, Zeus?\"\nZeus, the gatherer of clouds, answered her:\n\"My child, what a word has escaped your teeth!\nHow could I forget godlike Odysseus,\nwho is smarter than all other men, and who gave\nmore offerings to the immortal gods who hold the wide sky than anyone?\nBut Poseidon, the earth-shaker, is always\nfuriously angry about the Cyclops, whose eye he blinded,\nthe godlike Polyphemus, the strongest\nof all the Cyclopes. The nymph Thoosa bore him,\nthe daughter of Phorcys, lord of the barren sea,\nin a hollow cave, after sleeping with Poseidon.\nThat is why Poseidon, the shaker of the earth,\nis not killing Odysseus. He just drives him wandering away from home.\nCome on, let us all here plan together\nhow he can get home. Poseidon will drop\nhis anger. He cannot fight\nall the immortal gods by himself, against their wishes.\"\nAthena, bright-eyed, answered him:\n\"Our Father, son of Cronus, highest of rulers,\nif the blessed gods want this now,\nfor wise Odysseus to return to his own home,\nthen let us send Hermes, the guide and messenger,\nto the island of Ogygia, to hurry there and tell\nthe lovely-haired nymph our firm decision,\nthat steadfast Odysseus is going home.\nMeanwhile I will go to Ithaca, to stir up his son\nall the more, and put courage in his chest,\nso he will call the long-haired Greeks to a meeting\nand tell all the suitors off. They are always\nbutchering his fat sheep and his lumbering, curved-horned cattle.\nI will send him to Sparta and to sandy Pylos\nto ask about his father's return, in case he hears something,\nand so people will speak well of him.\"\nWith that, she tied her beautiful sandals under her feet,\nimmortal golden sandals that carried her over the water\nand over the endless earth as fast as the wind blows.\nShe took up her strong spear, tipped with sharp bronze,\nheavy, big, and solid, the one she uses to break the ranks of heroes\nwhenever the daughter of a mighty father is angry.\nShe shot down from the peaks of Olympus\nand stood in Ithaca, at the front gate of Odysseus' house,\non the courtyard doorstep, holding her bronze spear in her hand,\nlooking like a stranger, Mentes, chief of the Taphians.\nShe found the arrogant suitors. They were entertaining\nthemselves with board games in front of the doors,\nsitting on the hides of cattle they had killed themselves.\nHeralds and quick servants\nwere mixing wine and water in the mixing bowls,\nothers wiped the tables with sponges full of holes\nand set them out, and others carved up piles of meat.\nTelemachus, godlike, saw her first from far off,\nbecause he was sitting among the suitors, grieving in his heart,\npicturing his good father in his mind, if only he might come\nand scatter the suitors out of the house,\nand win honor himself and rule his own home.\nThinking this as he sat with the suitors, he saw Athena.\nHe headed straight for the gate, annoyed in his heart\nthat a guest had stood so long at the door. He came up close\nand took her right hand and took her bronze spear,\nand said to her, and the words flew out:\n\"Welcome, stranger. You will be treated well here. Then, after\nyou have had something to eat, you can tell us what you need.\"\nHe led the way, and Pallas Athena followed.\nWhen they were inside the tall house,\nhe carried the spear and set it against a tall pillar\ninside the polished spear rack, where many other spears\nof patient Odysseus were standing.\nHe brought her to a chair and seated her, spreading a linen cloth under her,\na beautiful hand-carved chair, with a footstool under her feet.\nHe set his own decorated chair beside her, away from the others,\nthe suitors, so the guest would not be bothered by the noise\nand dislike the dinner, surrounded by such arrogant men,\nand so he could ask her about his absent father.\nA maid brought a pitcher and poured water over their hands\nfrom a lovely gold jug, over a silver basin,\nso they could wash. She pulled a smooth table up beside them.\nThe respected housekeeper brought bread and set it out,\nadding lots of food, generous with what they had.\nA carver lifted platters of every kind of meat\nand set them down, along with golden cups,\nand a herald kept coming around pouring wine.\nThen the arrogant suitors came in. They sat down\nin a row on the chairs and benches,\nand heralds poured water over their hands,\nand slave women piled bread in baskets,\nand young men filled the mixing bowls to the top with wine.\nThey reached for the food laid out before them.\nWhen they had had their fill of food and drink,\nthe suitors turned their minds to other things:\nmusic and dancing, that is what makes a feast.\nThe herald put a beautiful lyre in the hands\nof Phemius, who sang for the suitors because he had to.\nHe plucked the strings and began a lovely song.\nBut Telemachus spoke to bright-eyed Athena,\nleaning his head close so the others would not hear:\n\"Dear guest, will you be annoyed at what I am about to say?\nThese men only care about the lyre and the singing,\nand they can do it easily, eating up another man's wealth for free,\na man whose white bones are rotting in the rain\nsomewhere on land, or the sea waves roll them around.\nIf they saw him come back to Ithaca,\nthey would all pray to be faster on their feet\nrather than richer in gold and clothes.\nBut now he has died a bad death, and there is no comfort\nfor us, not even if some man on earth\nsays he is coming home. His day of return is lost.\nBut come, tell me this and tell me straight:\nwho are you, where do you come from? Where is your city, who are your parents?\nWhat kind of ship did you arrive on? How did the sailors\nbring you to Ithaca? Who did they say they were?\nI do not think you walked here anyway.\nAnd tell me this truthfully, so I know for sure:\nis this your first visit, or are you a family friend\nfrom long ago? Many men have come to our house\nin the old days, since he travelled a lot among people.\"\nBright-eyed Athena answered him:\n\"All right, I will tell you exactly.\nI claim to be Mentes, son of clever Anchialus,\nand I am king of the Taphians, who love their oars.\nI have come here now with my ship and crew,\nsailing the wine-dark sea to people who speak other languages,\nheading to Temesa for bronze, and I am carrying shiny iron.\nMy ship is anchored out in the country, away from town,\nin the harbor of Rheithron, below wooded Mount Neion.\nWe say our families have been friends\nfrom way back, if you went and asked the old man,\nthe hero Laertes. They say he does not come into town anymore,\nbut stays out in the country, suffering,\nwith an old slave woman who brings him food and drink\nwhenever tiredness takes hold of his legs\nas he crawls along the slope of his vineyard.\nI have come now, because they said he was here at home,\nyour father. But the gods are blocking his journey.\nGodlike Odysseus is not dead yet on this earth,\nhe is still alive somewhere, held back on the wide sea,\non an island in the water, and rough men keep him there,\nsavages, who hold him there whether he likes it or not.\nBut I will make a prophecy for you now, the way the immortal gods\nput it in my mind, and the way I think it will turn out.\nI am no prophet, and I do not read bird signs well.\nHe will not be away from his own land much longer,\nnot even if iron chains hold him.\nHe will figure out how to get home, he is crafty.\nBut come, tell me this and tell me straight:\nare you really that tall a son of Odysseus?\nYou look amazingly like him, your head and your handsome eyes,\nand we used to see each other often,\nbefore he sailed to Troy, where the other\nbest of the Greeks went in their hollow ships.\nSince then I have not seen Odysseus, and he has not seen me.\"\nSensible Telemachus answered her:\n\"All right, stranger, I will tell you exactly.\nMy mother says I am his son. But I do not know\nfor sure. No one really knows who his own father is.\nI wish I were the son of some lucky man,\na man who grew old surrounded by his own wealth.\nBut the son of the most unlucky man alive,\nthat is who they say I am, since you are asking.\"\nBright-eyed Athena answered him:\n\"The gods have not made your family nameless for the future,\nsince Penelope gave birth to a boy like you.\nBut come, tell me this and tell me straight:\nwhat is this feast, what is this crowd? What do you need?\nA dinner party, or a wedding? This is not a potluck, that is for sure.\nIt looks to me like these men are behaving outrageously\nas they feast through the house. Any decent man would be disgusted\nat all these shameful things, if he saw them.\"\nSensible Telemachus answered her:\n\"Stranger, since you are asking me about all this,\nthis house used to be rich and respectable,\nback when that man was still around.\nBut now the gods have decided otherwise, planning evil.\nThey have made him disappear, beyond all\nother men. I would not grieve like this if he had died\namong his friends on Trojan ground,\nor in the arms of his family when the war was over.\nThen all the Greeks would have built him a tomb,\nand he would have won great fame for his son afterwards.\nBut now the storm winds swept him off, unknown.\nHe is gone, unseen and unheard of, and to me grief and crying\nhe has left. And it is not only him I mourn and groan for,\nbecause the gods have given me other troubles.\nAll the best men who rule the islands,\nDulichium, Same, and wooded Zacynthus,\nand all those who are lords in rocky Ithaca,\nall of them are courting my mother and wearing down my house.\nShe will not say no to the hateful marriage, and she cannot\nfinish it either. They are eating my house up,\nand soon they will destroy me as well.\"\nPallas Athena, angry, said to him:\n\"Oh my, how much you miss Odysseus while he is away,\nthe man who would lay his hands on these shameless suitors!\nIf only he would come back now and stand in the front doorway,\nwith his helmet, shield, and two spears,\nthe way I first saw him\ndrinking and enjoying himself in our house,\ncoming back from Ephyra, from Ilus son of Mermerus.\nOdysseus had gone there in his fast ship,\nlooking for a deadly poison so he could\nput it on his bronze arrowheads. But Ilus would not\ngive it to him, he was afraid of the eternal gods.\nBut my father gave it to him. He was very fond of him.\nIf Odysseus came at the suitors like that,\nthey would all die fast, and their weddings would turn bitter.\nBut all that lies in the hands of the gods,\nwhether he will come home and pay them back, or not,\nthere in his own halls. And I am telling you to think\nabout how to drive the suitors out of the house.\nCome on, listen to me and pay attention:\ntomorrow, call the Greek heroes to a meeting\nand tell them all what you think, with the gods as witnesses.\nTell the suitors to go back to their own homes,\nand if your mother wants to get married,\nlet her go back to her powerful father's house.\nThey will arrange the wedding and get the bride price ready,\nas much as a beloved daughter should have.\nAnd here is my careful advice for you, if you take it:\nget a ship ready with twenty oarsmen, the best one you have,\nand go find out about your father, gone so long,\nin case some man tells you something, or you hear a rumor\nfrom Zeus, which is what usually brings men news.\nFirst go to Pylos and ask godlike Nestor,\nthen from there to Sparta, to blond Menelaus.\nHe was the last of the bronze-armored Greeks to get home.\nIf you hear that your father is alive and coming home,\nthen even if you are struggling, you could last another year.\nBut if you hear that he is dead and gone,\ncome back to your own homeland,\nbuild him a tomb and hold a funeral,\nall the proper honors, and give your mother to a new husband.\nThen when you have finished all that,\nthink hard, in your mind and heart,\nabout how to kill the suitors in your halls,\nby trickery or out in the open. You should not\nact like a child anymore, you are not that young.\nHave you not heard what fame godlike Orestes got\namong all people, when he killed his father's killer,\nthat scheming Aegisthus, who murdered his famous father?\nSo you too, my friend, I can see you are handsome and strong,\nbe brave, so that people yet to come will speak well of you.\nNow I will go back down to my fast ship\nand my crew, who must be anxious waiting for me.\nYou take care of your business, and pay attention to what I said.\"\nSensible Telemachus answered her:\n\"Stranger, you are speaking to me kindly,\nlike a father to his son, and I will not forget what you said.\nBut come on, stay a bit, even though you are in a hurry to go,\nso you can bathe and refresh your spirits\nand go to your ship with a gift, happy inside,\nsomething valuable and lovely, a keepsake from me,\nthe kind of thing friends give to their guests.\"\nBright-eyed Athena answered him:\n\"Do not keep me here any longer. I want to be on my way.\nWhatever gift your heart tells you to give me,\ngive it to me when I come back this way, to take home.\nPick something really nice. You will get something just as good back.\"\nWith that, bright-eyed Athena left,\nflying off like a bird. In his heart\nshe put strength and courage, and made him remember his father\neven more than before. He realized what had happened\nand was amazed in his heart. He guessed she was a goddess.\nRight away the godlike man went back to the suitors.\nThe famous bard was singing to them, and they sat\nlistening in silence. He sang about the Greeks' journey home\nfrom Troy, the miserable return Athena had planned for them.\nUpstairs, Icarius' daughter, thoughtful Penelope,\nheard the divine song in her heart.\nShe came down the tall staircase of her house,\nnot alone, for two maids came with her.\nWhen the shining lady reached the suitors,\nshe stood by the post of the sturdy roof,\nholding her shiny veil up in front of her face,\nand a loyal maid stood on each side of her.\nTearfully, she spoke to the godlike bard:\n\"Phemius, you know lots of other stories that charm people,\nthe deeds of men and gods, the things poets sing about.\nSit and sing one of those for them, and let them drink\ntheir wine in silence. But stop this song,\nthis miserable song, which always wears down\nthe heart in my chest. It is the grief that hurts me most.\nI miss that kind of man, remembering him always,\na man whose fame spreads through Greece and the middle of Argos.\"\nSensible Telemachus answered her:\n\"Mother, why are you jealous of the good bard\nand will not let him entertain us however he wants? Bards are not\nthe ones to blame. Zeus is, who hands out\nto each man whatever he wants to give.\nNobody blames him for singing about the Greeks' bad end.\nPeople praise the newest song the most,\nthe one that is newest to the listeners.\nLet your heart and spirit bear to listen.\nOdysseus was not the only one who lost his day of return\nat Troy. Many other men died there too.\nGo back inside and see to your own work,\nthe loom and the spindle, and tell your maids\nto get on with their tasks. Talking is for men,\nall men, and especially me, since I am the man of this house.\"\nShe went back into the house, astonished,\nbecause she took her son's sensible words to heart.\nShe went up to her room with her maids\nand wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until Athena\nput sweet sleep on her eyes.\nThe suitors started shouting through the shadowy halls,\nand they all wished they could sleep with her.\nSensible Telemachus spoke first to them:\n\"Suitors of my mother, full of arrogant violence,\nlet us enjoy our dinner now, and no yelling.\nIt is a nice thing to listen to a bard\nlike this one, whose voice is like a god's.\nBut at dawn let us sit down in the assembly,\nall of us, so I can tell you plainly:\nget out of my house. Go hold your dinners somewhere else,\neating your own food, going from house to house.\nBut if you think it is better and nicer\nto destroy one man's livelihood for free,\nthen go ahead. But I will call on the eternal gods,\nin case Zeus grants that you get paid back for what you do.\nThen you would die inside this house and no one would pay for it.\"\nHe said it. They all bit their lips,\namazed at Telemachus for speaking so boldly.\nAntinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:\n\"Telemachus, the gods themselves must be teaching you\nto talk big and speak so boldly.\nI hope the son of Cronus never makes you king in sea-girt Ithaca,\nthough it is yours by birth from your father.\"\nSensible Telemachus answered him:\n\"Antinous, will you be annoyed at what I say?\nI would gladly take that, if Zeus gave it to me.\nDo you think being king is the worst thing that can happen to a person?\nBeing king is not bad at all. His house gets rich\nfast, and he himself gets more respect.\nBut there are plenty of other Greek kings\nin sea-girt Ithaca, young and old,\nand one of them can have that power, since godlike Odysseus is dead.\nBut I will be the master of my own house\nand of the slaves godlike Odysseus won for me.\"\nEurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him:\n\"Telemachus, that is in the hands of the gods,\nwho of the Greeks will be king in sea-girt Ithaca.\nBut you can keep your own property, and rule your own house.\nI hope no man ever comes to take your property\nby force while Ithaca is still a living place.\nBut I want to ask you, my good man, about your guest:\nwhere this man comes from, what country he says\nhe is from, and where his family and homeland are.\nDoes he bring news that your father is coming home,\nor did he come here for his own business?\nHow he jumped up and left right away. He did not even wait\nto be introduced. He did not look like a bad person.\"\nSensible Telemachus answered him:\n\"Eurymachus, my father's homecoming is over.\nI do not believe any news anyone brings anymore,\nand I do not pay attention to any prophecy my mother\nmight ask a prophet about after calling him into the house.\nThis guest of mine is a family friend from Taphos.\nHe says he is Mentes, son of clever Anchialus,\nand he rules the Taphians, who love their oars.\"\nSo Telemachus spoke, knowing in his heart she was the immortal goddess.\nThey turned back to dancing and lovely music,\nand partied, waiting for evening.\nDark evening came as they were enjoying themselves.\nThen each of them went home to bed.\nTelemachus went to his room, a high room built\nin the beautiful courtyard, in a clear open spot,\nand lay in bed, turning many things over in his mind.\nThe woman who knew what was proper carried burning torches with him,\nEurycleia, daughter of Ops son of Peisenor.\nLaertes had bought her long ago with his own wealth\nwhen she was still young, paying twenty oxen for her,\nand treated her in the house like his own good wife,\nbut he never slept with her, to avoid his wife's anger.\nShe carried the torches with him, and she loved him\nmore than any of the other slave women. She had raised him as a baby.\nShe opened the doors of the sturdy room,\nand he sat on the bed and pulled off his soft shirt,\nand handed it to the wise old woman.\nShe folded the shirt and made it neat,\nand hung it on a peg by the bed frame,\nand left the room, pulling the door shut with its handle\nof silver, and slid the bolt shut with the leather strap.\nAll night long he lay there, wrapped in a fleece of wool,\nplanning in his mind the trip Athena had told him about.\n\n### Book 2\n\nWhen rosy-fingered Dawn, born of the morning, appeared,\nthe dear son of Odysseus got up out of bed,\nput on his clothes and slung a sharp sword on his shoulder,\nand tied fine sandals under his shining feet,\nand walked out of his room looking like a god.\nRight away he ordered the clear-voiced heralds\nto call the long-haired Greeks to a meeting.\nThey called, and the men gathered fast.\nWhen they had gathered and come together,\nhe went into the meeting, holding a bronze spear in his hand,\nnot alone: two fast dogs followed him.\nAnd Athena poured wonderful grace over him.\nEveryone stared at him as he came,\nand he sat in his father's seat, and the old men moved aside.\nThen the hero Aigyptius began speaking among them,\nan old man bent with age who knew a thousand things.\nHis own dear son had gone off with godlike Odysseus\nto horse-rich Troy in the hollow ships,\nAntiphus the spearman; the savage Cyclops killed him\nin a hollow cave and made him his last meal.\nHe had three other sons: one sat with the suitors,\nEurynomus, and two always worked their father's land.\nBut even so he never forgot him, mourning and grieving.\nPouring tears for him, he spoke to them:\nListen to me now, men of Ithaca, to what I say.\nOur meeting has never been called, and nobody has sat here,\nsince the day godlike Odysseus left in the hollow ships.\nSo who called us this time? What need has come\nto a young man, or to one of the older men?\nHas he heard some report of an army coming,\nthat he could tell us clearly, now that he heard it first?\nOr is he announcing some other public business?\nHe seems to me a good man, and lucky. May Zeus\nbring him the good thing his heart is set on.\nSo he spoke, and Odysseus' dear son was glad at the words.\nHe did not sit still any longer — he wanted to speak.\nHe stood in the middle of the meeting, and a scepter was put in his hand\nby the herald Peisenor, who knew wise advice.\nFirst he spoke to the old man, taking him up:\nOld man, the man who called the people is not far off — you will soon know,\nand grief has hit me hardest.\nI have heard no report of an army coming,\nthat I could clearly tell you, once I had heard it first,\nand I am not announcing any other public business.\nIt is my own need, which has fallen on my house as trouble,\nin two ways. First, I have lost my noble father, who once among you\nhere was king, and was gentle as a father.\nAnd now something far bigger, which will soon\nbreak up my whole house and destroy everything we live on.\nThe suitors have attacked my mother, and she doesn't want them,\nthe dear sons of the very men who are the best here,\nwho refuse to go to the house of her father\nIkarios, so that he could dower his daughter\nand give her to whoever he liked and who pleased him.\nInstead they come to our house every single day,\nkilling cattle and sheep and fat goats,\nfeasting and drinking the fiery wine\nfor nothing; and a lot of it is being eaten up. There is no man\nlike Odysseus anymore, to keep ruin away from the house.\nAnd we are not the kind to defend it; and even then\nwe would be weak and know nothing of fighting.\nI would defend myself, if I had the strength.\nWhat they do can't be put up with any longer, and my house\nis ruined, and not decently. Be ashamed yourselves,\nand respect the other people who live around you\nnearby; and fear the anger of the gods,\nin case they turn things around, disgusted at these evil deeds.\nI beg you by Olympian Zeus and by Themis,\nwho breaks up men's meetings and brings them to order:\nhold back, friends, and leave me alone to be worn down\nby this painful grief — unless somewhere my noble father Odysseus\ndid something bad to the Greeks, his enemies,\nand you are paying me back for it in your hatred,\negging these men on. For me it would be better\nif you ate my treasures and my livestock.\nIf you ate them, there might be payment someday;\nbecause then we could go around town with our talk,\ndemanding our property back until it was all given.\nBut now you load my heart with grief that can't be acted on.\nHe said that in anger, and threw the scepter on the ground\nand burst into tears; and pity took the whole crowd.\nThen all the others were silent, and nobody dared\nanswer Telemachus with harsh words,\nexcept Antinous, who alone answered and said:\nTelemachus, loudmouth, out of control, what a thing to say,\nshaming us! You would like to pin blame on us.\nThe Greek suitors are not to blame for your troubles,\nyour dear mother is, who knows more tricks than anyone.\nIt is already the third year now, and soon the fourth,\nthat she has been cheating the hearts in the Greeks' chests.\nShe gives hope to everyone, and promises each man,\nsending messages, but her mind wants something else.\nAnd she thought up this other trick in her heart:\nshe set up a big loom in the hall and wove,\na fine, huge piece of cloth; and right away she told us:\nYoung men, my suitors, since godlike Odysseus is dead,\nwait, eager as you are for my marriage, until I finish\nthis cloak, so my weaving is not wasted,\na burial robe for the hero Laertes, for when\ndeadly fate and long-drawn death bring him down,\nso no Greek woman in the land can blame me\nif he lies without a shroud after gaining so much.\nThat is what she said, and our proud hearts were persuaded.\nThen all day she wove the big cloth,\nand at night she undid it, once she had set the torches beside her.\nSo for three years she fooled us with that trick and convinced us.\nBut when the fourth year came and the seasons came round,\none of the women told us — she knew for certain —\nand we caught her undoing the shining cloth.\nSo she finished it, unwilling, forced to;\nand here is the suitors' answer to you, so you know it\nin your own heart, and all the Greeks know too:\nsend your mother away, tell her to marry\nwhoever her father says and whoever she likes.\nBut if she keeps annoying the Greek young men much longer,\nthinking the thoughts in her heart that Athena gave her beyond others,\nknowing beautiful crafts and having good sense\nand tricks no one has heard of, even from women of the old days,\nthe Greek women of long ago with lovely hair,\nTyro, and Alcmene, and Mykene with the fine crown,\nnone of them had a mind like Penelope's —\nbut in this one thing she did not think sensibly.\nBecause they will eat your livelihood and your goods for as long\nas she keeps this mind that the gods are now\nputting in her breast. She wins great fame for herself,\nbut for you, the loss of a lot of your living.\nAnd we will not go back to our own work, or anywhere else,\nuntil she marries whichever Greek she chooses.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nAntinous, there is no way to drive out of the house against her will\nthe woman who bore me and raised me. My father is somewhere else,\nalive or dead. And it would be bad for me to pay a lot\nto Ikarios, if I sent my mother away willingly.\nI would get trouble from her father, and a god would give me more,\nsince my mother, leaving the house, would call down the hateful Furies,\nand people would blame me.\nSo I will never say that word.\nIf your own hearts are outraged,\nget out of my halls, and fix yourselves other dinners,\neating your own property, taking turns at each other's houses.\nBut if this seems better and preferable to you,\nthat one man's living be destroyed with nothing paid back,\ngo ahead, cut it up — but I will call on the gods who always exist,\nin hope that Zeus grants that payback happens someday.\nThen you would die inside my halls with nothing paid.\nSo Telemachus spoke, and Zeus who thunders far\nsent two eagles flying from the top of a mountain.\nAs long as the two flew on the blasts of the wind,\nclose together, stretching out their wings,\nbut when they reached the middle of the crowded meeting,\nthere they wheeled around and shook their thick wings,\nand looked at everyone's heads, and glared death,\nand tearing their cheeks and necks with their claws,\nthey shot off to the right through their houses and their town.\nThe people were stunned at the birds when they saw them with their eyes,\nand in their hearts they wondered what was going to happen.\nThen the old hero Halitherses spoke to them,\nson of Mastor; he alone of his generation was best\nat reading birds and saying what was right,\nand meaning well he spoke to them:\nListen to me now, men of Ithaca, to what I say,\nand I am telling this mostly as a warning to the suitors:\na huge disaster is rolling toward them. Odysseus\nwill not be away from his loved ones long — somewhere\nhe is already near, and he is planting slaughter and death\nfor them all; and it will be bad for many others too,\nwho live on far-seen Ithaca. But long before that\nlet us think how we can stop them; and let them\nstop on their own, because that is better for them right now.\nI am not prophesying without experience — I know well.\nI say that everything was fulfilled for that man,\njust as I told him, when the Greeks went up to Troy\nand Odysseus of many plans went with them.\nI said that after suffering many troubles and losing all his men,\nunknown to everyone, in the twentieth year,\nhe would come home. And now it is all coming true.\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him:\nOld man, go home and prophesy to your own children,\nso they do not suffer some trouble later.\nI am much better than you at prophesying about this.\nMany birds fly around under the sun's rays,\nand not all of them mean anything. But Odysseus\ndied far away — and I wish you had died with him.\nThen you would not be making so many prophecies,\nand you would not be stirring up Telemachus like this in his anger,\nhoping for a gift for your house, if he gives one.\nI will tell you straight, and it will happen too:\nif you, knowing many old things, use your words\nto trick a younger man into getting angry,\nit will first of all be worse for him,\nand he will not be able to do anything because of it;\nand on you, old man, we will put a fine that you will hate\npaying — and it will be painful for you.\nAnd I myself will advise Telemachus in front of everyone:\nlet him tell his mother to go back to her father's house.\nThey will arrange a marriage and get together the bride-gifts,\na huge amount, as much as is right to go with a beloved daughter.\nFor I do not think the Greek young men will stop\nthis painful courting, since we do not fear anyone,\nnot Telemachus, for all his big talk,\nand we do not care about prophecy, which you, old man,\ntell and it never comes true — and you get more hateful for it.\nAnd the property will keep being eaten up badly, and never equal,\nas long as she puts off the Greeks\nover this marriage. And we, waiting day after day,\ncompete over her excellence, and do not go after other women\nwhom each of us could decently marry.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nEurymachus, and all you other noble suitors,\nI am not begging you for those things anymore, and not talking about them,\nthe gods already know them, and so do all the Greeks.\nBut come on, give me a fast ship and twenty companions\nwho can get the journey done with me there and back.\nI am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos\nto ask about my father's return, since he has been gone so long,\nin case some human tells me, or I hear a voice\nfrom Zeus, which is what brings news to people most of all.\nIf I hear of my father's life and his return,\nthen, worn down though I am, I could still endure a year;\nbut if I hear that he is dead and no longer alive,\nthen after I come home to my dear native land\nI will heap up a grave mound for him and hold his funeral rites,\na great many, as is fitting, and give my mother to a husband.\nSo he spoke and sat down, and among them rose\nMentor, who was a companion of blameless Odysseus,\nand when he set out with the ships he put his whole household in his charge,\nto obey the old man and keep everything safe;\nwith good will toward them he spoke and addressed them:\nHear me now, men of Ithaca, whatever I say:\nlet no sceptered king be kind and gentle any longer,\nnor mindful of what is right in his heart,\nbut let him always be harsh and do reckless things;\nsince no one remembers godlike Odysseus\namong the people he ruled, and he was gentle as a father.\nBut the proud suitors I do not begrudge\nfor doing violent deeds through the crooked plans in their minds;\nfor they risk their own heads and violently devour\nthe house of Odysseus, and they say he will never come back.\nBut now I am angry at the rest of the people, that all of you\nsit in silence, and do not, by speaking out,\nstop the few suitors, though you are many.\nThen Leocritus, son of Euenor, answered him:\nMentor, troublemaker, fool in your wits, what a thing you have said,\nurging us to stop. It is hard\nfor men to fight even against more, over a dinner.\nFor even if Odysseus of Ithaca himself came\nand wanted in his heart to drive the noble suitors\nout of his house while they were feasting there,\nhis wife would not be glad at his coming, much as she longs for him,\nbut he would meet a shameful fate right there\nif he fought against more men; and you have spoken out of place.\nBut come, let the people scatter, each to his own work,\nand let Mentor and Halitherses urge this journey on him,\nwho from the beginning are companions of his father.\nBut I think he will sit here a long time\nwaiting for news in Ithaca, and will never make this journey.\nSo he spoke, and broke up the swift assembly.\nAnd they scattered, each to his own house,\nand the suitors went to the house of godlike Odysseus.\nBut Telemachus went off by himself to the shore of the sea,\nand washed his hands in the gray salt water and prayed to Athena:\nHear me, you who came yesterday to our house as a god\nand told me in a ship over the misty sea\nto go and ask about my father's return, since he has been gone so long;\nbut the Greeks put all this off,\nand the suitors most of all, in their wicked arrogance.\nSo he spoke in prayer, and Athena came near him,\nlooking like Mentor in body and in voice,\nand speaking she said to him:\nTelemachus, you will not be a coward or a fool later on,\nif indeed your father's good strength has dripped into you,\nsuch as he was to finish a deed and a word;\nthen your journey will not be useless or unfinished.\nBut if you are not his child and Penelope's,\nthen I do not expect you to finish what you long for.\nFor few sons are like their father;\nmost are worse, and few are better than their father.\nBut since you will not be a coward or a fool later on,\nand the cunning of Odysseus has not completely left you,\nthere is hope that you will finish these deeds.\nSo now let go of the plans and the minds of the suitors,\nthe senseless ones, since they are neither thoughtful nor just;\nand they do not know death and black doom,\nwhich is near them, that they will all be destroyed in one day.\nAnd the journey you long for will no longer be far off;\nfor I am such a companion of your father's line,\nI who will fit out a swift ship for you and go along with you myself.\nBut you go to the house and spend time with the suitors,\nand get the provisions ready and stow everything in containers,\nwine in jars, and barley, the marrow of men,\nin tightly sewn skins; and I through the town\nwill quickly gather companions, willing men. There are ships\nmany in sea-girt Ithaca, new and old;\nof these I will pick out for you whichever is best,\nand quickly fitting it out we will launch it on the wide sea.\nSo spoke Athena, daughter of Zeus; and no longer long\ndid Telemachus wait, since he heard the voice of the god.\nHe went to the house, troubled in his dear heart,\nand found the proud suitors in the halls,\nflaying goats and singeing pigs in the courtyard.\nAnd Antinous came straight at Telemachus, laughing,\nand clung to his hand, and spoke a word and called him by name:\nTelemachus, loud-talker, unrestrained in fury, let no other\nevil deed or word be a care in your breast,\nbut eat and drink with me, as before.\nAll these things the Greeks will carry out for you,\na ship and picked rowers, so you may get there sooner,\nto holy Pylos, for news of your noble father.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nAntinous, it is not at all possible among you overbearing men\nto feast and enjoy yourself without being hurt.\nWas it not enough that before you cut down many fine\npossessions of mine, suitors, while I was still a child?\nBut now that I am grown and hear other people's words\nand learn, and my spirit grows within me,\nI will try to bring evil deaths upon you,\neither by going to Pylos, or here in this land.\nI am going, and the journey I speak of will not be useless,\nas a passenger; for I am no master of a ship or rowers;\nso, I suppose, that seemed to you to be better.\nSo he spoke, and easily pulled his hand from Antinous' hand;\nand the suitors busied themselves with the feast through the house.\nAnd they mocked him and jeered at him with words.\nAnd so one of the young overbearing men would say:\nTruly Telemachus is planning slaughter for us.\nEither he will bring defenders from sandy Pylos\nor even from Sparta, since he is terribly eager;\nor he wants to go to Ephyre, the rich farmland,\nto bring back from there drugs that destroy the heart,\nand put them in the mixing bowl and kill us all.\nAnd another of the young overbearing men would say:\nAnd who knows whether he too, going in a hollow ship,\nmay perish far from his friends, wandering as Odysseus did?\nSo he would bring even more trouble on us;\nfor we would divide up all his possessions, and his house\nwe would give to his mother to keep, and to whoever married her.\nSo they spoke, and he went down into his father's high-roofed chamber,\nthe broad one, where piled gold and bronze lay\nand clothing in chests, and plenty of sweet-smelling olive oil;\nand jars of old honey-sweet wine\nstood there, holding the unmixed divine drink inside,\nfixed in a row against the wall, in case Odysseus\nshould come home after suffering many hard things.\nAnd there were close-fitting doors, tightly joined,\ndouble-folding; and inside a woman housekeeper night and day\nkept watch, guarding everything with the deep knowledge of her mind,\nEurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor.\nThen Telemachus called to her and spoke to her at the chamber:\nNanny, come now, draw off wine for me in jars,\nthe sweet kind, the best after that one which you keep\nin hope for that unlucky man, if he ever comes,\ngodlike Odysseus, escaped from death and doom.\nFill twelve jars, and put lids on them all.\nAnd pour barley for me into well-stitched skins;\nlet there be twenty measures of ground barley meal.\nAnd know this by yourself alone; let everything be ready together;\nfor in the evening I will take it, when\nmy mother goes up to her upper room and thinks about bed.\nFor I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos\nto ask about my dear father's return, in case I hear something.\nSo he spoke, and his dear nurse Eurycleia cried out,\nand wailing she said to him:\nWhy, dear child, has this thought come into your mind?\nAnd where do you want to go over the wide earth,\nyou who are the only beloved one? And he perished far from his homeland,\ngodlike Odysseus, among people who did not know him.\nAnd these men will plan evil things behind you as soon as you go,\nso you may die by a trick, and they will divide all this up themselves.\nBut stay here, sitting among your own people; there is no need for you\nto suffer harm on the barren sea or to wander.\nThen wise Telemachus answered her:\nCheer up, nanny, since this plan is not without a god.\nBut swear that you will not tell these things to my dear mother,\nat least until the eleventh or the twelfth day comes,\nor until she misses me herself and hears that I have set out,\nso that she does not, by crying, spoil her beautiful skin.\nSo he spoke, and the old woman swore the great oath of the gods.\nBut when she had sworn and finished the oath,\nshe straightway drew off wine for him in jars,\nand poured barley for him into well-stitched skins.\nAnd Telemachus went into the house and stayed with the suitors.\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, thought of something else.\nLooking like Telemachus she went all through the city everywhere,\nand standing beside each man she spoke a word,\nand told them to gather in the evening at the swift ship.\nAnd she in turn asked Noemon, the glorious son of Phronius,\nfor a swift ship; and he gladly promised it to her.\nThe sun set and all the streets were in shadow,\nand then he dragged the swift ship to the sea, and in it\nhe put all the gear that well-benched ships carry.\nHe anchored it at the edge of the harbor, and around it good companions\ngathered together; and the goddess urged each one on.\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, thought of something else.\nShe went to the house of godlike Odysseus;\nthere she poured sweet sleep over the suitors,\nand confused them as they drank, and knocked the cups from their hands.\nAnd they hurried to sleep throughout the city, and no longer long\ndid they sit, since sleep fell on their eyelids.\nBut bright-eyed Athena spoke to Telemachus,\ncalling him out of the well-built halls,\nlooking like Mentor in body and in voice:\nTelemachus, your companions with fine greaves are already\nsitting at the oars, waiting for you to set out;\nbut let us go, let us not delay the journey long.\nSo speaking, Pallas Athena led the way\nquickly; and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.\nBut when they came down to the ship and the sea,\nthey found the long-haired companions on the shore.\nAnd the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke among them:\nCome, friends, let us bring the provisions; for everything is already\ngathered in the hall. And my mother knows nothing of it,\nnor the other slave women; one alone heard the word.\nSo speaking he led the way, and they followed along.\nAnd they carried everything and on the well-benched ship\nlaid it down, as the dear son of Odysseus had ordered.\nAnd Telemachus stepped onto the ship, and Athena led the way,\nand sat down in the stern of the ship; and close beside her\nTelemachus sat. And they untied the stern cables,\nand went aboard themselves and sat down on the benches.\nAnd bright-eyed Athena sent them a favorable wind,\na strong West Wind, whistling over the wine-colored sea.\nAnd Telemachus urged on his companions and told them\nto take hold of the gear; and they listened to him urging.\nAnd the pine mast, inside the hollow mast-box\nthey raised and set upright, and tied it down with forestays,\nand hauled up the white sails with well-twisted oxhide ropes.\nThe wind filled the middle of the sail, and around it the wave\nroared loudly, dark purple, around the stem of the moving ship;\nand she ran over the wave, cutting through her path.\nAnd when they had tied up the gear through the swift black ship,\nthey set up mixing bowls full of wine,\nand poured libations to the immortal gods who live forever,\nand beyond all to the bright-eyed daughter of Zeus.\nAll night long she kept cutting her way, right on to the dawn.\n\n### Book 3\n\nThe sun rose, leaving the beautiful lake,\nand went into the bronze-colored sky, to shine for the immortal gods\nand for mortal humans on the grain-giving earth.\nThey reached Pylos, the well-built city of Neleus,\nand there on the shore of the sea the people were making holy sacrifice,\nall-black bulls, to the Earth-Shaker with the dark blue hair.\nThere were nine seats, and in each one five hundred men\nwere sitting, and nine bulls were set before them at each one.\nWhen they had tasted the inner organs and were burning the thigh pieces for the god,\nthe others came straight in and furled the sails of the well-balanced ship,\nlifted them and moored the ship, and they themselves stepped out.\nTelemachus stepped out of the ship, and Athena led the way.\nThe goddess, bright-eyed Athena, spoke to him first:\n\"Telemachus, you should no longer feel any shame at all, not even a little.\nIt was for this that you sailed the sea, so that you might learn\nabout your father, where the earth covers him and what kind of fate he met.\nBut come now, go straight to Nestor, the tamer of horses.\nLet us find out what plan he is hiding in his chest.\nYou must beg him yourself to tell you the truth.\nHe will not tell a lie, because he is very wise.\"\nThen sensible Telemachus answered her:\n\"Mentor, how should I go up to him? How should I greet him?\nI have no experience yet with clever words,\nand it is shameful for a young man to question an older one.\"\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"Telemachus, you will think of some things yourself in your own mind,\nand a god will suggest other things to you, for I do not think\nyou were born and raised without the will of the gods.\"\nWith these words Pallas Athena led the way\nquickly, and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.\nThey arrived at the gathering and the seats of the men of Pylos,\nwhere Nestor was sitting with his sons, and around them his companions\nwere getting the meal ready, roasting meat and putting other pieces on spits.\nWhen they saw the strangers, they all came up together,\ngreeted them with their hands, and invited them to sit down.\nFirst Pisistratus, the son of Nestor, came up close\nand took both their hands, and seated them at the feast\non soft fleeces on the sand of the sea,\nbeside his brother Thrasymedes and his own father.\nHe gave them portions of the inner organs and poured wine\ninto a golden cup, and speaking to her he addressed\nPallas Athena, the daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis:\n\"Pray now, stranger, to lord Poseidon,\nbecause it is his feast that you have come upon here.\nBut once you have poured the libation and prayed, as is proper,\nthen give this man too the cup of honey-sweet wine\nto pour a libation, since I think that he too\nprays to the immortal gods, for all people need the gods.\nBut he is younger and is the same age as me,\nso I will give you the golden cup first.\"\nWith these words he put the cup of sweet wine in her hand,\nand Athena was glad at the sensible and upright man,\nbecause he gave her the golden cup first.\nAt once she prayed many things to lord Poseidon:\n\"Hear me, Poseidon, holder of the earth, and do not refuse\nus, as we pray, that these works be completed.\nGive glory first of all to Nestor and his sons,\nand then give to all the other Pylians a gracious return\ntogether for this famous hecatomb.\nAnd grant that Telemachus and I return home after finishing our task,\nsince we came here with our swift black ship.\"\nSo she prayed, and she herself brought it all to pass.\nShe gave Telemachus the beautiful two-handled cup,\nand in the same way the dear son of Odysseus prayed.\nWhen they had roasted the upper parts of the meat and pulled them off,\nthey divided the portions and ate the glorious meal.\nBut when they had set aside their desire for drink and food,\nthen the Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak to them:\n\"Now it is better to question and to ask\nthese strangers who they are, since they have enjoyed their food.\nStrangers, who are you? From where do you sail the watery paths?\nIs it on some business, or do you wander aimlessly\nlike pirates over the sea, who roam about\nrisking their lives and bringing trouble to foreigners?\"\nThen sensible Telemachus answered him\nwith courage, for Athena herself had put courage in his mind,\nso that he might ask about his father who was gone,\nand so that he might have good fame among people:\n\"Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans,\nyou ask where we are from, and I will tell you all of it.\nWe have come from Ithaca beneath the wooded mountain.\nThis business is my own, not public, that I am telling you.\nI am searching for the wide fame of my father, in case I may hear it somewhere,\nof godlike Odysseus, the enduring-hearted, who they say once,\nfighting along with you, sacked the city of the Trojans.\nAbout all the others, as many as fought against the Trojans,\nwe have heard where each one died by a miserable death.\nBut the son of Cronos made the destruction of that man alone unknown.\nFor no one can say for certain when he died,\nwhether he was killed on the mainland by enemy men,\nor in the sea among the waves of Amphitrite.\nSo now I come to your knees, in case you are willing\nto tell me of that man's miserable death, if perhaps you saw it\nwith your own eyes, or heard the story from someone else\nas he wandered, for his mother bore him to misery.\nAnd do not soften your words to me out of shame or pity,\nbut tell me plainly how you came upon the sight.\nI beg you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus,\npromised and carried out any word or any deed\namong the people of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered troubles,\nremember it for me now, and tell me the truth.\"\nThen the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:\n\"Dear friend, since you have reminded me of the misery that in that\nland we endured, we unrestrained sons of the Achaeans,\nboth all that we wandered with our ships on the misty sea\ngathering plunder, wherever Achilles led,\nand all that we fought around the great city of lord Priam.\nThere all the best men were killed.\nThere lies warlike Ajax, there lies Achilles,\nthere lies Patroclus, a counselor equal to the gods,\nand there lies my own dear son, both strong and blameless,\nAntilochus, fast beyond all in running and a fighter.\nWe suffered many other troubles besides those. Who among mortal humans\ncould tell all of that?\nNot even if you stayed five years, or even six, and kept asking\nabout all the troubles that the godlike Achaeans suffered there,\nwould you reach your own homeland before growing weary of it.\nFor nine years we kept weaving troubles for them,\nwith every kind of trick, and only with difficulty did the son of Cronos bring it to an end.\nThere no one ever wanted to be compared to him in planning\nface to face, since godlike Odysseus won by far\nwith every kind of trick, your father, if truly\nyou are descended from him. Amazement holds me as I look at you.\nFor your words are truly like his, and you would not think\nthat a younger man could speak so much like him.\nThere, as long as I and godlike Odysseus\nnever once spoke differently in the assembly or in the council,\nbut held one single spirit in mind and wise counsel,\nwe planned how things might turn out best for the Argives.\nBut when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,\nand went into the ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans,\nthen indeed Zeus planned in his mind a miserable homecoming\nfor the Argives, since not all of them were sensible or just.\nSo many of them met an evil fate\nfrom the deadly anger of the bright-eyed goddess born of a mighty father.\nShe set strife between the two sons of Atreus.\nThe two of them called an assembly of all the Achaeans,\nsenselessly and not in proper order, at the setting of the sun.\nThe sons of the Achaeans came weighed down with wine,\nand the two told their speeches, the reason they had gathered the army.\nThere Menelaus urged all the Achaeans\nto remember their homecoming on the broad back of the sea,\nbut it did not please Agamemnon at all, for he wanted\nto hold the army back and offer holy hecatombs,\nso that he might heal the terrible anger of Athena.\nHe was a fool, for he did not know that she would not be persuaded.\nThe mind of the ever-living gods is not quickly turned.\nSo the two stood exchanging harsh words,\nand the well-greaved Achaeans jumped up\nwith a wonderful shout, and the plan was divided among them.\nAll that night we stayed awake, planning hard things\nagainst each other, for Zeus was preparing a trouble of evil.\nAt dawn we dragged some ships into the bright sea\nand put the possessions aboard and the deep-girdled women.\nBut half the army was held back, waiting\nthere beside Agamemnon, the son of Atreus, shepherd of the people.\nHalf of us embarked and sailed, and the ships\nsailed very fast, and a god smoothed the great-gulfed sea.\nWhen we came to Tenedos we made holy offerings to the gods,\nlonging for home, but Zeus did not yet plan our return,\ncruel one, who stirred up wicked strife a second time.\nSome turned their curved ships back\naround lord Odysseus, the warlike and crafty one,\ngoing back again to please Agamemnon, the son of Atreus.\nBut I fled with my gathered ships, as many as followed me,\nsince I knew in my heart that the god was planning evil.\nThe warlike son of Tydeus fled too, and roused his companions.\nAnd late indeed fair-haired Menelaus came after us,\nand in Lesbos he found us, as we were considering the long voyage,\nwhether we should sail above rugged Chios,\npast the island of Psyria, keeping it on our left,\nor below Chios, past windy Mimas.\nWe asked the god to show a sign, and he showed it to us,\nand he ordered us to cut across the middle of the sea to Euboea,\nso that we might escape the trouble as fast as possible.\nA shrill fair wind rose up to blow, and the ships\nran very quickly over the fish-filled paths, and at Geraestus\nthey put in at night, and to Poseidon\nwe set many thigh pieces of bulls, after measuring the great sea.\nIt was the fourth day, when in Argos the companions\nof the son of Tydeus, Diomedes the tamer of horses,\nwere mooring the well-balanced ships. But I kept on toward Pylos, and never\ndid the fair wind stop, once the god first sent it to blow.\nSo I came, dear child, without news, and I know nothing\nabout those others, which of the Achaeans were saved and which died.\nBut all that I have learned sitting in my own halls,\nas is proper, you will find out, and I will not hide it from you.\nThey say the Myrmidons, the spearmen, came home safely,\nwhom the glorious son of great-hearted Achilles led,\nand Philoctetes too, the glorious son of Poeas.\nIdomeneus brought all his companions back to Crete,\nthose who escaped from the war, and the sea took none of them from him.\nBut about the son of Atreus you yourselves hear, though you are far away,\nhow he came home, and how Aegisthus planned his miserable death.\nBut that man paid for it in a truly wretched way.\nSo it is a good thing for a son to be left behind when a man\nhas died, since even he took revenge on his father's killer,\nthe crafty Aegisthus, who killed his glorious father.\nAnd you, dear friend, for I see you are very handsome and tall,\nbe brave, so that someone of later generations may speak well of you.\nThen sensible Telemachus answered him:\n\"Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans,\nthat man indeed took great revenge, and the Achaeans\nwill carry his wide fame for people in the future to hear.\nIf only the gods would give me such strength,\nto take revenge on the suitors for their painful outrage,\nwho insolently plot reckless things against me.\nBut the gods have not spun out such prosperity for me,\neither for my father or for me, and now I must endure it anyway.\"\nThen the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:\n\"Dear friend, since you have reminded me of these things and spoken of them,\nthey say that many suitors, because of your mother,\nin your halls against your will are plotting evil.\nTell me, are you being overpowered willingly, or do the people\nhate you throughout the land, following the voice of a god?\nAnd who knows whether he might come someday and take revenge on them for their violence,\neither he alone, or all the Achaeans together?\nIf only the bright-eyed Athena were willing to love you\nas she once cared for glorious Odysseus\nin the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered pains,\nfor I never yet saw gods loving a man so openly\nas Pallas Athena stood openly beside him,\nif she were willing to love you like that and care for you in her heart,\nthen some of those men would forget about their marriage.\nThen sensible Telemachus answered her:\n\"Old man, I do not think this word will ever be fulfilled,\nfor you have spoken far too grandly, and amazement holds me. For me\nthese things would not happen even as I hope for them, not even if the gods willed it.\"\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"Telemachus, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth!\nA god, if he wishes, can easily save a man even from far away.\nI myself would rather, after suffering many pains,\ncome home and see the day of my return,\nthan die at home after arriving back, the way Agamemnon\ndied by the trick of Aegisthus and his own wife.\nBut truly, death that is common to all, not even the gods\ncan ward off from a man they love, once\nthe deadly fate of lingering death brings him down.\"\nThen sensible Telemachus answered her:\n\"Mentor, let us no longer talk about these things, though we care about them,\nfor his homecoming is no longer real, but already\nthe immortal gods have planned death and black doom for him.\nBut now I want to ask and question another matter\nof Nestor, since he knows about justice and the wisdom of others beyond all others.\nFor they say he has ruled over three generations of men,\nso he looks to me like an immortal to look at.\nNestor, son of Neleus, tell me the truth:\nhow did the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon, die?\nWhere was Menelaus? And what kind of death did he plan for him,\nAegisthus the crafty one, since he killed a much better man?\nWas he not in Argos of the Achaeans, but wandering somewhere else\namong people, and Aegisthus took courage and killed him?\"\nThen the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:\n\"Well then, my child, I will tell you all the truth.\nYou yourself know how these things happened,\nif you found Aegisthus alive in his halls\nwhen the son of Atreus came from Troy, fair-haired Menelaus.\nIn that case no one would have poured a mound of earth over him even in death,\nbut the dogs and the birds of prey would have eaten him\nas he lay on the plain far from the city, and none\nof the Achaean women would have wept for him, for he planned a very great crime.\nFor we, while we were completing many labors there,\nsat still, but he, at ease in a corner of horse-pasturing Argos,\nkept charming Agamemnon's wife with many words.\nAt first she refused the shameful act,\nthe godlike Clytemnestra, for she had good sense in her mind.\nAnd there was also a singer with her, a man whom the son of Atreus\nhad given many instructions when he went to Troy, to guard his wife.\nBut when the fate of the gods bound her to be subdued,\nthen he took the singer to a deserted island\nand left him to become prey and a meal for the birds,\nand he took her away to his own house, a willing woman with a willing man.\nHe burned many thigh pieces on the holy altars of the gods,\nand hung up many offerings, woven cloths and gold,\nafter completing a great deed that he never hoped for in his heart.\nFor we sailed together, coming from Troy,\nthe son of Atreus and I, with friendly feelings for each other.\nBut when we reached holy Sunium, the headland of the Athenians,\nthere Phoebus Apollo came upon Menelaus' steersman with his gentle arrows\nand killed him,\nas he held the steering oar in his hands on the running ship,\nPhrontis, the son of Onetor, who surpassed the tribes of men\nat steering a ship, whenever the storm winds rushed at him.\nSo he was held there, though he was eager for the journey,\nto bury his companion and carry out the funeral rites.\nBut when he too, going over the wine-dark sea\nin his hollow ships, reached the steep mountain of Malea\nas he sailed, then far-thundering Zeus planned\na hateful journey for him, and poured down a blast of shrill winds,\nand monstrous waves swelled up, as big as mountains.\nThere he split the fleet, and drove some ships to Crete,\nwhere the Cydonians lived around the streams of Iardanus.\nThere is a certain smooth rock, steep down into the sea,\nat the edge of Gortyn in the misty sea.\nThere the South Wind drives the great wave toward the left-hand headland,\ntoward Phaestos, and a small stone holds back the great wave.\nSome of the ships came there, and the men barely escaped destruction,\nbut the waves smashed the ships against the rocks.\nAnd the five dark-prowed ships the wind and the water\ncarried and drove to Egypt.\nSo he, gathering much wealth and gold there,\nwandered with his ships among people of other tongues,\nand meanwhile Aegisthus planned these wicked things at home.\nFor seven years he ruled over gold-rich Mycenae,\nafter killing the son of Atreus, and the people were subdued under him.\nBut in the eighth year godlike Orestes came to bring him evil,\ncoming back from Athens, and he killed his father's killer,\nthe crafty Aegisthus, who had killed his glorious father.\nAnd he, after killing him, feasted the Argives at the funeral\nof his hateful mother and the cowardly Aegisthus.\nOn the same day Menelaus, good at the war cry, came to him,\nbringing many treasures, as many as his ships had carried as cargo.\nAnd you, dear friend, do not wander far from your halls for a long time,\nleaving behind your property and the men in your house\nwho are so arrogant, in case they eat up all your\npossessions, dividing them among themselves, and you go on a useless journey.\nBut I urge and command you to go to Menelaus,\nfor he has just come from somewhere else,\nfrom those people, from where no one would hope in his heart\nto come, whom the storm winds first swept off course\ninto such a great sea, from where not even birds\ngo in a year, since it is so great and terrible.\nBut go now with your ship and your companions,\nor if you want to go on foot, a chariot and horses are here for you,\nand my sons are here, who will escort you\nto godlike Lacedaemon, where fair-haired Menelaus is.\nBeg him yourself, so that he may tell you the truth.\nHe will not tell a lie, for he is very wise.\"\nSo he spoke, and the sun set and darkness came.\nAnd among them the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, also spoke:\n\"Old man, truly you have told all this properly.\nBut come, cut out the tongues and mix the wine,\nso that after pouring libations to Poseidon and the other immortal gods\nwe may think about sleep, for this is the right hour for it.\nFor the light has already gone beneath the darkness, and it is not proper\nto sit long at the feast of the gods, but to go home.\"\nSo spoke the daughter of Zeus, and they listened to her as she spoke.\nThe heralds poured water over their hands,\nand the young men filled the mixing bowls to the top with drink,\nand they served it to all, pouring the first drops into the cups.\nThey threw the tongues into the fire, and standing up they poured libations.\nBut when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wanted,\nthen Athena and godlike Telemachus\nboth wanted to go to the hollow ship.\nBut Nestor held them back, speaking to them:\n\"May Zeus and the other immortal gods prevent this,\nthat you should go from me to your swift ship\nlike someone who is completely without clothes and poor,\nwho has no cloaks and no many blankets in his house,\nto sleep softly, neither for himself nor for his guests.\nBut I have cloaks and beautiful blankets.\nSurely the dear son of this man Odysseus\nwill not lie down on the ship's deck, as long as I\nlive, and afterwards my children are left in my halls,\nto entertain guests, whoever comes to my house.\"\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:\n\"You have spoken well, dear old man, and it is fitting\nfor Telemachus to obey you, since that way is much better.\nBut he will now follow you, so that he may sleep\nin your halls, while I will go to the black ship,\nto encourage my companions and tell them each thing.\nFor I claim to be the oldest among them,\nand the others who follow me are younger men in friendship,\nall the same age as great-hearted Telemachus.\nThere I would lie down beside the hollow black ship\nnow, but at dawn I go to the great-hearted Cauconians,\nwhere a debt is owed to me, not a new one\nand not a small one. But you, since he has come to your house,\nsend him with a chariot and your son, and give him horses,\nthe lightest to run and the best in strength.\"\nWith these words bright-eyed Athena left,\nlooking like a sea eagle, and wonder seized everyone who saw it.\nThe old man was amazed as he saw it with his eyes.\nHe took Telemachus' hand and spoke a word and called him by name:\n\"Dear friend, I do not expect you to be a coward and a weakling,\nif the gods follow you as guides when you are so young.\nFor none of the others who hold Olympian homes is like this,\nbut this is the daughter of Zeus, the most glorious Tritogeneia,\nwho also honored your noble father among the Argives.\nBut, lady, be gracious, and grant me good glory,\nfor me and my children and my respected wife.\nAnd I will sacrifice to you a yearling heifer with a broad brow,\nunbroken, which no man has yet led under the yoke.\nHer I will sacrifice to you, pouring gold over her horns.\"\nSo he spoke in prayer, and Pallas Athena heard him.\nThe Gerenian horseman Nestor led the way for them,\nfor his sons and sons-in-law, to his beautiful house.\nBut when they reached the famous house of that lord,\nthey sat down in order on the benches and chairs.\nThe old man mixed a bowl of wine for them as they came,\nsweet wine, which in the eleventh year\nthe housekeeper opened and untied the cover from.\nFrom it the old man mixed a bowl, and he poured many libations\nand prayed to Athena, the daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis.\nBut when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wanted,\neach of them went to his own house to lie down.\nThe Gerenian horseman Nestor put him to bed there,\nTelemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus,\nin a pierced bed under the echoing portico,\nand beside him Pisistratus of the good spear, leader of men,\nwho was still unmarried among the sons in the halls.\nHe himself slept in the inner room of the lofty house,\nand his wife, the mistress, made ready the bed and the bedding for him.\nWhen early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthe Gerenian horseman Nestor rose from his bed.\nHe went out and sat down on the polished stones,\nwhich were in front of the lofty doors,\nwhite and gleaming with oil. On these Neleus\nused to sit before, a counselor equal to the gods,\nbut he had already been overcome by death and gone to Hades.\nThen Gerenian Nestor sat there, the guardian of the Achaeans,\nholding a staff, and his sons gathered around him in a crowd,\ncoming out of their rooms, Echephron and Stratius\nand Perseus and Aretus and godlike Thrasymedes.\nSixth after them came the hero Pisistratus,\nand they brought godlike Telemachus and seated him beside them.\nThe Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak to them:\n\"Quickly, dear children, fulfill my wish,\nso that first of all I may propitiate Athena among the gods,\nwho came to me plainly, to the rich feast of the god.\nBut come, let one man go to the plain for a cow, so that it comes\nas quickly as possible, and let the herdsman of the cattle drive it.\nAnd let another go to great-hearted Telemachus' black ship\nand bring all his companions, leaving only two behind.\nAnd let another tell the goldsmith Laerces to come here,\nso that he may pour gold around the cow's horns.\nAnd let the rest of you stay here together, and tell the servant women\ninside the famous house to prepare the feast,\nand to bring seats and wood for around, and bright water.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all hurried. The cow came\nfrom the plain, and the companions of great-hearted Telemachus\ncame from the swift well-balanced ship, and the smith came\nholding in his hands the bronze tools, the ends of his craft,\nan anvil and a hammer and well-made tongs,\nwith which he worked the gold. And Athena came\nto meet the holy rites. The old charioteer Nestor\ngave the gold, and he then poured it around the cow's horns,\nworking it carefully, so that the goddess might be glad to see the ornament.\nAnd Stratius and godlike Echephron led the cow by the horns.\nAretus came from the room bringing water for the hands\nin a flowered basin, and in his other hand he held barley grains\nin a basket. Thrasymedes, steadfast in battle,\nstood beside him holding a sharp axe in his hand, to strike the cow.\nPerseus held the bowl for the blood. The old charioteer Nestor\nbegan with the water for the hands and the barley grains, and he prayed much\nto Athena, making the first offering, and threw the hairs from the head into the fire.\nBut when they had prayed and thrown forward the barley grains,\nat once the high-spirited son of Nestor, Thrasymedes,\nstruck, standing close by, and the axe cut through the tendons\nof the neck, and it released the cow's strength. The women cried out,\nthe daughters and daughters-in-law and the respected wife\nof Nestor, Eurydice, the eldest of the daughters of Clymenus.\nThen the men lifted the cow up from the broad-wayed earth\nand held it, and Pisistratus, leader of men, cut its throat.\nWhen the black blood had flowed out and the spirit left the bones,\nat once they cut it apart, and quickly cut out the thigh pieces,\nall in proper order, and covered them with fat,\nmaking a double layer, and laid raw pieces on top.\nThe old man burned them on split wood, and poured gleaming wine\nover them, and the young men stood beside him with five-pronged forks in their hands.\nBut when the thighs were burned and they had tasted the inner organs,\nthey cut up the rest and pierced it on spits,\nand roasted them, holding the sharp-pointed spits in their hands.\nMeanwhile beautiful Polycaste bathed Telemachus,\nthe youngest daughter of Nestor, son of Neleus.\nWhen she had bathed him and anointed him richly with oil,\nshe threw a beautiful cloak and tunic around him,\nand he stepped out of the bath, like the immortal gods in body.\nHe went and sat down beside Nestor, shepherd of the people.\nBut when they had roasted the upper parts of the meat and pulled them off,\nthey sat and feasted, and noble men rose up\nto pour wine in golden cups.\nBut when they had set aside their desire for drink and food,\nthe Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak to them:\n\"My sons, come, yoke the fair-maned horses for Telemachus\nand bring them under the chariot, so that he may continue his journey.\"\nSo he spoke, and they listened to him and obeyed,\nand quickly yoked the swift horses under the chariot.\nThe housekeeper woman put in grain and wine\nand delicacies, such as Zeus-nurtured kings eat.\nTelemachus stepped up into the beautiful chariot,\nand beside him Pisistratus, son of Nestor, leader of men,\nclimbed into the chariot and took the reins in his hands.\nHe whipped them to go, and the two flew off not unwillingly\ninto the plain, and they left the steep citadel of Pylos.\nAll day long they shook the yoke, holding it on both sides.\nThe sun set and all the streets were shadowed.\nThey reached Pherae, to the house of Diocles,\nthe son of Ortilochus, whom Alpheus fathered as his child.\nThere they passed the night, and he set guest gifts before them.\nWhen early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthey yoked the horses and climbed onto the painted chariot.\nThey drove out from the gateway and the echoing portico.\nHe whipped them to go, and the two flew off not unwillingly.\nThey came to the wheat-bearing plain, and there\nthey finished the journey, for the swift horses carried them along so well.\nThe sun set and all the streets were shadowed.\n\n### Book 4\n\nSo they came to hollow Lacedaemon, the land of deep ravines,\nand drove up to the house of glorious Menelaus.\nThey found him holding a wedding feast for many relatives,\nfor his son and his blameless daughter, in his own house.\nHe was sending the girl to the son of Achilles, the breaker of men —\nbecause back in Troy he had promised and nodded his head\nto give her, and now the gods were bringing the marriage about.\nSo he was sending her there with horses and chariots\nto the famous city of the Myrmidons, where that son ruled.\nAnd for his son he was bringing a bride from Sparta, Alector's daughter,\nstrong Megapenthes, born to him in his old age\nfrom a slave woman; and the gods gave Helen no more children,\nafter she had first given birth to a lovely child,\nHermione, who had the beauty of golden Aphrodite.\nSo they feasted through the great high-roofed hall,\nthe neighbours and the clansmen of glorious Menelaus,\nenjoying themselves; and among them a holy bard sang\nplaying the lyre, and two acrobats spun\nthrough the middle of them as the song began.\nBut the other two, in the porch of the house, the two men and their horses,\nthe hero Telemachus and Nestor's splendid son,\nstopped there; and lord Eteoneus came out and saw them,\nthe quick servant of glorious Menelaus,\nand he went through the halls to tell the shepherd of the people,\nand standing beside him he spoke winged words:\n\"Two strangers are here, Menelaus, raised by Zeus,\ntwo men, and by birth they look like sons of great Zeus.\nBut tell me: should we unyoke their swift horses,\nor send them on to someone else who will welcome them?\"\nThen, greatly upset, fair-haired Menelaus answered him:\n\"You weren't a fool before, Eteoneus, son of Boethous,\nbut now you talk like a child, like a senseless boy.\nSurely the two of us came here after eating plenty of guest-meals\nat other men's tables — if ever Zeus\nlets us stop suffering in the future. So unyoke\nthe strangers' horses, and bring the men in to eat.\"\nSo he said, and the other ran through the hall and called\nthe other quick servants to follow him.\nThey loosed the sweating horses from under the yoke\nand tied them to the mangers in the stable,\nand threw spelt down for them and mixed white barley,\nand leaned the chariot against the gleaming porch,\nand led the men into the holy house. And when they saw it,\nthey were amazed all through the house of the Zeus-raised king:\nfor like the shining of the sun or the moon\nwas the high-roofed house of glorious Menelaus.\nBut when they had looked their fill with their eyes,\nthey stepped into the polished bathtubs and washed.\nAnd when the maids had washed them and rubbed them with oil,\nand thrown woolly cloaks and tunics around them,\nthey sat down on chairs beside Atreus' son Menelaus.\nAnd a maid brought a pitcher and poured water over\na beautiful golden basin set on top of a silver one,\nfor them to wash; and she pulled a polished table up beside them.\nAnd the respected housekeeper brought and set out bread,\nadding lots of dishes, sharing freely what was there.\nAnd the carver lifted and set before them platters of meat\nof every kind, and put golden cups beside them.\nAnd greeting them, fair-haired Menelaus said:\n\"Take the food and welcome. Afterwards,\nonce you've tasted dinner, we'll ask who you are\namong men; your parents' family hasn't died out,\nbut you come from the family of Zeus-raised kings\nwho carry scepters — bad men couldn't father children like you.\"\nSo he said, and set the fat back of an ox before them,\nroasted, taking it in his hands — the piece they had set aside for him.\nAnd they reached their hands out to the ready food in front of them.\nBut when they had lost their hunger and thirst,\nthen Telemachus spoke to Nestor's son,\npulling his head close so the others wouldn't hear:\n\"Look, son of Nestor, dear to my heart —\nthe flashing of bronze through the echoing halls,\nand of gold and amber and silver and ivory.\nThis must be what the court of Olympian Zeus is like inside,\nthere's so much of it, more than words; awe takes hold of me as I look.\"\nAnd fair-haired Menelaus heard him talking,\nand called out and spoke winged words to them:\n\"Dear children, no mortal could compete with Zeus —\nhis house and his possessions are immortal.\nBut among men, someone might compete with me in possessions, or might not.\nFor after much suffering and much wandering,\nI brought them home in my ships and got back in the eighth year,\ndriven as far as Cyprus and Phoenicia and Egypt,\nand I reached the Ethiopians and Sidonians and Erembi,\nand Libya, where the lambs are born with horns straight away.\nFor there the flocks give birth three times in one full year.\nAnd there no master and no shepherd lacks\ncheese or meat or sweet milk,\nbut they always give milk to draw all year round.\nWhile I wandered there, piling up a big living,\nmeanwhile another man killed my brother,\nin secret, without warning, by the trick of his cursed wife.\nSo I don't rule over these possessions with any joy.\nAnd you've probably heard this from your fathers,\nwhoever they are — since I suffered a lot, and lost my house,\na house that was very well settled, holding many good things.\nIf only I lived in my halls with even a third of it,\nand those men were safe who died back then\nin wide Troy, far from horse-pasturing Argos.\nBut still, mourning and grieving for them all,\noften as I sit in my halls,\nsometimes I cheer my heart with crying, sometimes\nI stop; for you get sick of cold grief quickly.\nFor all of them I don't grieve as much, grieving as I am,\nas for one man, who makes sleep and food hateful to me\nwhen I remember him — no other Greek worked so hard\nas Odysseus worked and endured. And yet for him\nsorrows were coming, and for me grief I'll never forget\nfor that man, because he's been gone so long, and we don't know\nwhether he's alive or dead. And surely they mourn him,\nold Laertes and sensible Penelope\nand Telemachus, whom he left as a newborn in his house.\"\nSo he said, and stirred in the other a longing to cry for his father.\nHe let a tear fall from his eyelids to the ground when he heard about his father,\nholding his purple cloak up in front of his eyes\nwith both hands. And Menelaus noticed him,\nand then wondered in his heart and mind\nwhether he should let him remember his father on his own,\nor first question him and test him on everything.\nWhile he was turning this over in his heart and mind,\nout of her sweet-smelling high-roofed room came Helen,\nlooking like Artemis with the golden distaff.\nAnd with her Adreste set out a well-made chair,\nand Alcippe brought a rug of soft wool,\nand Phylo brought a silver basket, which Alcandra had given her,\nthe wife of Polybus, who lived in Egyptian Thebes,\nwhere the greatest wealth lies in the houses;\nhe gave Menelaus two silver bathtubs,\nand two tripods, and ten talents of gold.\nAnd separately Helen, his wife, gave him beautiful gifts:\na golden distaff and a basket on wheels,\nmade of silver, with the rims worked in gold.\nThis the maid Phylo brought and set beside her,\nstuffed with finely made yarn; and on top of it\nlay the distaff, holding violet-dark wool.\nShe sat down in the chair, and a footstool was under her feet.\nAnd right away she asked her husband about everything:\n\"Do we know, Menelaus, raised by Zeus, who these men are\nwho claim to have come to our house?\nShould I lie, or should I tell the truth? My heart tells me to.\nFor I say I've never seen anyone so much alike —\nnot a man or a woman — awe takes hold of me as I look —\nas this man is like the son of great-hearted Odysseus,\nTelemachus, whom that man left as a newborn in his house,\nwhen for my sake, shameless dog that I am, the Greeks\ncame to Troy, planning a bold war.\"\nThen fair-haired Menelaus answered her:\n\"I think the same now, lady, as you're guessing.\nFor his feet were like that, and his hands like that,\nand the look in his eyes, and his head, and the hair on top.\"\nAnd just now, remembering Odysseus,\nI was telling how much he suffered and worked\nfor my sake, and he let a bitter tear fall from under his brows,\nholding his purple cloak up in front of his eyes.\"\nThen Nestor's son Peisistratus answered him:\n\"Menelaus, raised by Zeus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,\nthis really is that man's son, just as you say;\nbut he's sensible, and he's ashamed in his heart\nto come here and, right at first, show off his talking\nface to face with you, whose voice we enjoy like a god's.\nBut old Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, sent me\nto come along with him as an escort; for he wanted to see you,\nso you might put some word or some plan in his mind.\nFor many troubles come to the son of a father who's gone\nin his halls, when he has no other helpers,\nas now for Telemachus — his father is gone, and there are no others\nin the district who might fend off ruin from him.\"\nThen fair-haired Menelaus answered him:\n\"Oh! So the son of a dear man has come to my house,\nthe man who worked through many hard trials for my sake.\nAnd I said I'd love him more than the other\nGreeks if he came, if over the sea Olympian Zeus who thunders wide\ngranted that we two got home safe in our swift ships.\nAnd I would have settled a city for him in Argos and built him a house,\nbringing him from Ithaca with his possessions and his son\nand all his people, after sacking one city\nof those that lie around me and are ruled by me.\nAnd we'd often be together here; and nothing\nwould have separated us, loving each other and enjoying it,\nuntil the dark cloud of death covered us over.\nBut that, I suppose, some god was going to begrudge,\nthe god who made that poor man, alone, never to come home.\"\nSo he said, and stirred in them all a longing to cry.\nArgive Helen cried, the daughter of Zeus,\nand Telemachus cried, and Atreus' son Menelaus,\nand Nestor's son didn't keep his eyes dry either;\nfor he remembered blameless Antilochus in his heart,\nwhom the splendid son of shining Dawn had killed.\nRemembering him, he spoke winged words:\n\"Son of Atreus, old Nestor used to say\nyou were the wisest of mortals, above all others,\nwhenever we talked about you in his halls\nand spoke with each other.\nAnd now, if there's any way, listen to me; for I for one\ndon't enjoy crying after dinner, but early-born\ndawn will be here; and I wouldn't begrudge\ncrying for any mortal who dies and meets his fate.\nFor this is the only honor for poor mortals:\nto cut the hair and let a tear fall from the cheeks.\nFor my brother is dead too, and no worst man\namong the Greeks — you must know him; for I for one\nnever met him or saw him; but they say Antilochus\nwas the best of the others at running and at fighting.\"\nThen fair-haired Menelaus answered him:\n\"Dear friend, since you've said what a wise man\nwould say and do, even one older than you —\nfor that's the kind of father you have, and you speak wisely —\na man's child is easy to recognize, when the son of Cronus\nspins out wealth for him at his marriage and at his birth,\nas he has now given to Nestor all his days:\nthat he himself grow sleek and old in his halls,\nand his sons be wise and the best with the spear.\nBut let's drop the crying that just happened,\nand think about dinner again, and let them pour\nwater over our hands. There'll be plenty of talk\nat dawn for Telemachus and me to share with each other.\"\nSo he said, and Asphalion poured water over their hands,\nthe quick servant of glorious Menelaus.\nAnd they reached their hands out to the ready food in front of them.\nThen Helen, daughter of Zeus, thought of something else:\nright away she dropped a drug into the wine they were drinking,\na drug that takes away grief and anger and makes you forget all troubles.\nWhoever swallowed it, once it was mixed in the bowl,\ncouldn't let a tear fall down his cheeks all day,\nnot even if his mother and father both died,\nor if his brother or dear son right in front of him\nwere cut down with bronze while he watched with his own eyes.\nSuch were the clever drugs the daughter of Zeus had,\ngood ones, which Polydamna gave her, the wife of Thon,\nan Egyptian — for there the grain-giving earth grows the most\ndrugs, many good ones mixed in, and many harmful;\nand every man there is a doctor who knows more than all\nother men; for they come from the family of Paeon.\nBut when she'd dropped it in and told them to pour the wine,\nagain she spoke and answered them with words:\n\"Menelaus, raised by Zeus, son of Atreus, and you here,\nsons of good men — Zeus gives good and evil\nto one man at one time, to another at another; he can do anything —\ncome on, sit and feast in the halls\nand enjoy the talk; for I'll tell you things that fit.\nI couldn't tell or name them all,\nall the hard trials that enduring Odysseus went through;\nbut take this one thing that strong man did and endured\nin the land of the Trojans, where you Greeks suffered troubles.\nHe beat his own body with shameful blows,\nthrew a ragged cloth over his shoulders, looking like a slave,\nand sneaked into the wide-streeted city of the enemy men;\nand hiding himself, he pretended to be a different man,\na beggar, one who was nothing like that among the Greek ships.\nLooking like him he entered the city of the Trojans, and they all\nwere fooled; but I alone recognized him as he was,\nand questioned him; but he dodged me with his cunning.\nBut when I had bathed him and rubbed him with oil,\nand dressed him in clothes and swore a strong oath\nnot to reveal Odysseus among the Trojans until\nhe got back to the swift ships and the huts,\nthen he told me the whole plan of the Greeks.\nAnd after killing many Trojans with the long-pointed bronze\nhe came back to the Greeks, bringing back a lot of news.\nThen the other Trojan women wailed loudly; but my own heart\nwas glad, because my mind had already turned to going\nhome again, and I was sorry for the ruin that Aphrodite\ngave me, when she led me there from my own dear homeland,\nleaving behind my child and my bedroom and my husband,\nwho lacked nothing in brains or in looks.\"\nThen fair-haired Menelaus answered her:\n\"Yes, lady, you've told all this the way it should be told.\nFor I've learned the thinking and the mind of many\nheroic men, and I've traveled over a lot of land;\nbut I've never yet seen with my own eyes anyone\nlike the dear heart of enduring Odysseus.\nWhat a thing that strong man did and endured —\ninside the polished horse, where we all sat, the best\nof the Greeks, bringing slaughter and death to the Trojans.\nThen you came there; and some god was about to send you,\nthe spirit that wanted to give glory to the Trojans;\nand godlike Deiphobus came along with you as you went.\nThree times you walked around the hollow ambush, feeling it with your hands,\nand you called out by name the best of the Greeks,\nmaking your voice sound like their wives' voices.\nBut I and the son of Tydeus and brilliant Odysseus,\nsitting in the middle, heard how you shouted.\nThe two of us were hot to jump out\nor to answer right away from inside;\nbut Odysseus held us back and stopped us, eager as we were.\nThen all the other sons of the Greeks were silent,\nbut Anticlus alone wanted to answer you with words.\nBut Odysseus pressed his hand over his mouth\nwithout letting up, with his strong hands, and saved all the Greeks;\nand he held him like that until Pallas Athena led you away.\"\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\n\"Menelaus, raised by Zeus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,\nthat's the worse for it; none of that stopped his cruel death,\nnot even if his heart inside was made of iron.\nBut come, send us to bed, so we too can right now\nlie down and enjoy sweet sleep.\"\nSo he said, and Argive Helen told the maids\nto set up beds under the portico and throw on beautiful\npurple blankets and spread rugs on top,\nand put woolly cloaks on top to cover themselves with.\nAnd they went out of the hall with torches in their hands,\nand made the beds; and a herald led the guests out.\nSo they slept there in the front court of the house,\nthe hero Telemachus and Nestor's splendid son;\nand Atreus' son slept in the inner corner of the lofty house,\nand beside him lay Helen of the long robes, shining among women.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nMenelaus, good at the war cry, got up from his bed,\nput on his clothes, slung a sharp sword over his shoulder,\ntied beautiful sandals under his shining feet,\nand went out of the bedroom, looking like a god,\nand sat down beside Telemachus, and spoke a word and called him by name:\n\"What need brought you here, hero Telemachus,\nto shining Lacedaemon, over the broad back of the sea?\nPublic business or your own? Tell me this for certain.\"\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\n\"Menelaus, raised by Zeus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,\nI've come, in case you can tell me some news of my father.\nMy house is being eaten up, my rich fields are ruined,\nand my house is full of hostile men, who always\nslaughter my crowding sheep and my shambling, crook-horned cattle —\nmy mother's suitors, acting with arrogant violence.\nSo now I come to your knees as a beggar, in case you're willing\nto tell me about that man's cruel death, if you've seen it anywhere\nwith your own eyes, or heard the word from someone else\nas he wandered; for his mother bore him for sorrow.\nAnd don't soothe me out of shame or pity,\nbut tell me well how you ran into that sight.\nI beg you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus,\npromised some word or did some deed for you\nin the land of the Trojans, where you Greeks suffered troubles,\nremember that now for me, and tell me the truth.\"\nThen, greatly upset, fair-haired Menelaus answered him:\n\"Oh no — so it's a strong-hearted man's bed\nthat these weaklings wanted to lie in!\nLike when a deer in a thicket has put her newborn, milk-fed fawns\nto sleep, and roams over the slopes and grassy hollows\nto graze, and then a strong lion comes to that bed of hers\nand brings a shameful death on both of them —\nso will Odysseus bring a shameful death on those men.\nI wish, father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,\nthat he were the man he once was in well-built Lesbos,\nwhen he stood up and wrestled with Philomeleides in a contest,\nand threw him hard, and all the Greeks cheered —\nsuch a man might Odysseus be among the suitors!\nThen all of them would die fast and have bitter weddings.\nBut as for what you're asking me and begging me for, I for one\nwon't say anything different, dodging sideways, and I won't trick you,\nbut I'll tell you what the old man of the sea told me, and he tells the truth;\nI won't hide a single word of it from you or keep it back.\n\"The gods still held me in Egypt when I was eager to get home,\nbecause I hadn't offered them complete sacrifices.\nFor the gods always want people to remember their commands.\nThere's an island out in the much-surging sea,\nin front of Egypt, and people call it Pharos,\nas far away as a hollow ship can go\nin one whole day, when a shrill fair wind blows behind her.\nAnd it has a good harbor, where men launch\ntheir balanced ships into the sea after drawing dark water.\nThe gods held me there twenty days, and no fair winds\never showed up blowing, the winds that\nguide ships over the broad back of the sea.\nAnd by now all my supplies would have run out and my men's strength too,\nif one of the gods hadn't pitied me and saved me,\nthe daughter of mighty Proteus, the old man of the sea,\nEidothea; for I stirred her heart most of all.\nShe met me wandering alone, away from my companions;\nfor they were always roaming around the island fishing\nwith bent hooks, and hunger was wearing out their bellies.\nAnd she stood near me and spoke a word and said:\n'You're very foolish, stranger, and weak in the head,\nor you're giving up willingly and enjoying your suffering.\nHow long have you been stuck on this island, and you can't\nfind any way out, and your companions' hearts are failing?'\nSo she said, and I answered her and said:\n'I'll tell you, whoever of the goddesses you are,\nthat I'm not held here willingly, but I must have\noffended the immortals who hold the wide heaven.\nBut you tell me — the gods know everything —\nwhich of the immortals traps me and has blocked my road,\nand how I'll get across the fish-filled sea.'\nSo I said, and the shining goddess answered right away:\n'Then I'll tell you, stranger, very exactly.\nAn old man of the sea roams around here, and he tells the truth,\nan immortal Egyptian, Proteus, who knows the depths\nof all the sea, and serves under Poseidon;\nand they say he's my father and that he fathered me.\nIf you could somehow lie in wait and grab him,\nhe'd tell you your route and the distances of your journey,\nand how you'll get across the fish-filled sea.\nAnd he'd tell you, Zeus-raised one, if you want,\nwhatever evil and good has been done in your halls\nwhile you've been gone on the long, painful road.'\nSo she said, and I answered her and said:\n'Now you yourself plan the ambush of this divine old man,\nin case he sees me coming or finds out and escapes;\nfor it's hard for a mortal man to beat a god.'\nSo I said, and the shining goddess answered right away:\n'Then I'll tell you, stranger, very exactly.\nWhen the sun has climbed to the middle of the sky,\nthen the old man of the sea comes up out of the salt water,\nunder the breath of the West Wind, hidden in dark rippling water,\nand once he's out he sleeps under the hollow caves;\nand around him the seals, children of the beautiful sea goddess,\nsleep in a herd, risen up out of the gray sea,\nbreathing out the sharp smell of the deep salt water.\nThere I'll lead you at dawn when it shows,\nand lay you down in a row; and you pick out three good\ncompanions, the best ones beside your well-benched ships.\nAnd I'll tell you all the treacherous tricks of that old man.\nFirst he'll go and count the seals;\nand when he's counted them all by fives and looked them over,\nhe'll lie down in the middle of them like a shepherd among his sheep.\nAnd as soon as you see him lying down asleep,\nthen let your strength and force be ready,\nand hold him there while he struggles, eager as he is to escape.\nAnd he'll try every shape of everything that creeps\non the earth, and water and blazing fire;\nbut you hold on without letting go, and squeeze him harder.\nBut when at last he himself questions you with words,\nbeing just as you saw him when he lay down,\nthen at last relax your grip and let the old man go,\nhero, and ask him which of the gods is angry with you,\nand how you'll get across the fish-filled sea.\"\nSo saying that, she dove down under the surging sea.\nBut I went to the ships, where they stood on the sand,\nmy supplies; and my heart churned a lot inside me as I went.\nBut when I got down to the ship and the sea,\nand we had made dinner ready, and immortal night came on,\nthen we lay down to sleep on the edge of the sea.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen along the shore of the wide-pathed sea\nI went, praying a lot to the gods; and three of my companions\nI led along, the men I trusted most in every way.\nMeanwhile she, diving down into the broad bay of the sea,\nbrought up four sealskins from the deep;\nthey were all freshly flayed; and she was planning a trick against her father.\nAnd she had dug out beds in the sands by the shore,\nand sat waiting; and we came very close to her.\nAnd she laid us down in a row, and threw a hide over each of us.\nThere the ambush would have been the most awful thing; for it tortured us badly,\nthe deadly stink of the sea-fed seals.\nFor who would lie down to sleep next to a sea monster?\nBut she herself saved us and thought up a big help:\nshe brought ambrosia and put it under each man's nose,\nsmelling very sweet, and killed the monster's stink.\nAnd all morning we waited with patient hearts;\nand the seals came out of the sea in crowds. Then they\nlay down in rows along the edge of the sea;\nand at noon the old man came out of the sea, and found the seals\nwell fed, and went along all of them, and counted their number;\nand he counted us first among the monsters, and nothing in his heart\nsuspected there was a trick; then he lay down too.\nBut we rushed at him with a shout, and threw our arms\naround him; and the old man didn't forget his crafty skill,\nbut first of all he turned into a deep-maned lion,\nand then a snake and a leopard and a big boar;\nand he turned into wet water and a tall leafy tree;\nbut we held on without letting go, with patient hearts.\nBut when at last the old man, who knew treacherous things, got tired,\nthen he questioned me with words and said:\n'Who of the gods, son of Atreus, planned these plans with you,\nso that you took me by ambush against my will? What do you want?'\nSo he said, and I answered him and said:\n'You know, old man, why you're asking me these things to turn me aside.\nHow long have I been stuck on this island, and I can't\nfind any way out, and my heart fails inside me.\nBut you tell me — the gods know everything —\nwhich of the immortals traps me and has blocked my road,\nand how I'll get across the fish-filled sea.'\nSo I said, and he answered me right away and said:\n'Ah, but you should have offered fine sacrifices to Zeus\nand the other gods before you set out, so that you could come\nas fast as possible to your homeland, sailing over the wine-dark sea.\nFor it isn't your fate to see your friends and reach\nyour well-built home and your homeland before\nyou go back to the water of the river of Egypt, fed by rain,\nand offer sacred sacrifices\nto the immortal gods who hold the wide heaven;\nand then the gods will give you the journey you're longing for.'\nSo he said, and my own dear heart broke inside me,\nbecause he told me to go back over the misty sea\nto Egypt, a long and painful trip.\nBut even so I answered him with words:\n'All that I'll do, old man, just as you tell me.\nBut come, tell me this and relate it exactly:\ndid all the Greeks get home unharmed in their ships,\nthe ones Nestor and I left behind when we sailed from Troy,\nor did someone die a cruel death on his own ship\nor in the hands of friends, after he'd finished the war?'\nSo I said, and he answered me right away and said:\n'Son of Atreus, why are you asking me this? It's not for you\nto know it, or to learn my thoughts; and I don't think\nyou'll be long without crying once you hear it all properly.\nFor many of them died, and many were left behind;\nand of the leaders, only two of the bronze-clad Greeks\ndied on the way home; and you yourself were there at the battle.\nAnd one more is still being held alive, somewhere on the wide sea.\nAjax died among his long-oared ships.\nFirst Poseidon drove him onto the Gyraean\nrocks, and saved him from the sea;\nand he would have escaped death, though Athena hated him,\nif he hadn't let out a boastful word and been completely blinded;\nhe said he'd escaped the great gulf of the sea against the gods' will.\nAnd Poseidon heard him shout it out;\nright away then he took his trident in his strong hands\nand struck the Gyraean rock and split it in two;\nand one part stayed there, and the piece fell into the sea,\nthe piece Ajax had first sat on, and he was completely doomed;\nand it carried him over the endless surging sea.\nSo he died there, when he drank the salt water.\nBut your brother, I suppose, escaped death and got away\nin his hollow ships; and lady Hera saved him.\nBut when he was just about to reach the steep\nmountain of Malea, then a storm snatched him up\nand carried him over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily,\nto the edge of the countryside, where Thyestes once\nhad his house, but then Thyestes' son Aegisthus lived there.\nBut when a safe homecoming even from there appeared,\nand the gods turned the wind around, and they got home,\nthen he stepped gladly onto his homeland\nand kissed and touched his own land; and from him many\nhot tears poured out, since he was glad to see the land.\nBut a lookout saw him from the watchtower, the one\ncrafty Aegisthus had put there, and he promised him a payment,\ntwo talents of gold; and he watched for a year,\nin case he slipped past, so he could remember his fierce courage.\nAnd he went to the house to tell the shepherd of the people.\nRight away Aegisthus thought up a cunning plan;\npicking twenty of the best men in the district\nhe set them in ambush, and elsewhere he ordered a feast to be made ready.\nThen he went to invite Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,\nwith horses and chariots, thinking shameful thoughts.\nAnd he brought him up, not knowing his death was coming, and killed him\nafter feeding him, the way a man kills an ox at the manger.\nAnd none of Atreus' son's companions who came with him survived,\nand none of Aegisthus' men either, but they were killed in the halls.\nSo he said, and my own dear heart broke inside me,\nand I cried, sitting in the sand, and my heart\nno longer wanted to live and see the sunlight.\nBut when I'd had enough of crying and rolling in the dust,\nthen the truthful old man of the sea spoke to me:\n'Don't cry like that any longer, son of Atreus, so long and without stopping,\nsince we see no good come of it; but as fast as you can,\ntry to reach your homeland.\nFor either you'll find him alive, or Orestes\nhas killed him first, and you'll come to his funeral.'\nSo he said, and my heart and my proud spirit\nwere warmed again in my chest, even though I was grieving,\nand I spoke out and addressed him with winged words:\n'Those I already know about; but name a third man for me,\nwhoever is still being held alive on the wide sea,\nor dead; and I want to hear it, grieving as I am.'\nSo I said, and he answered me right away and said:\n'The son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.\nI saw him on an island, shedding a big tear,\nin the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him\nby force; and he can't reach his homeland;\nfor he has no oared ships and no companions,\nwho could send him over the broad back of the sea.\nBut for you, Zeus-raised Menelaus, it isn't fated\nto die in horse-pasturing Argos and meet your fate,\nbut the immortals will send you to the Elysian plain and the ends of the earth,\nwhere fair-haired Rhadamanthys is,\nwhere life is easiest for people.\nThere's no snow, no heavy storm, no rain ever,\nbut always the breezes of the shrilly blowing West Wind\nthat Ocean sends up to cool people;\nbecause you have Helen, and you're Zeus's son-in-law.'\nSo saying that, he dove down under the surging sea.\nBut I went to the ships with my godlike companions,\nand my heart churned a lot inside me as I went.\nBut when we got down to the ship and the sea,\nand we had made dinner ready, and immortal night came on,\nthen we lay down to sleep on the edge of the sea.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nfirst of all we dragged the ships into the shining salt sea,\nand set up masts and sails in the well-balanced ships,\nand we ourselves climbed aboard and sat down on the benches;\nand sitting in rows we struck the gray salt water with our oars.\nAnd back to the river of Egypt, fed by rain,\nI brought my ships to shore, and offered complete sacrifices.\nBut when I had ended the anger of the gods who live forever,\nI piled up a tomb for Agamemnon, so his fame would never die out.\nHaving finished all that, I sailed home, and the immortals\ngave me a fair wind, and sent me quickly to my dear homeland.\nBut come now, stay on in my halls,\nuntil the eleventh day and the twelfth day come;\nand then I'll send you off well, and give you shining gifts,\nthree horses and a well-smoothed chariot; and after that\nI'll give you a beautiful cup, so you can pour offerings to the gods\nimmortal, remembering me all your days.\"\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\n\"Son of Atreus, don't keep me here a long time.\nFor even for a year I'd put up with staying beside you,\nsitting here, and no longing for home or parents would grab me;\nfor I take great pleasure in hearing your stories and your words.\nBut my companions are already getting upset for me\nin holy Pylos; and you're keeping me here a long time.\nWhatever gift you give me, let it be a treasure;\nbut horses I won't take to Ithaca, but I'll leave them\nhere for you yourself, as a decoration; for you rule over\na wide plain, with lots of clover in it, and galingale,\nand wheat and spelt and the broad-growing white barley.\nBut in Ithaca there are no wide tracks and no meadow;\nit's goat-pasture, and nicer even than horse-pasture.\nFor none of the islands that lean on the sea\nis good for driving horses or rich in meadows; and Ithaca most of all.\"\nSo he said, and Menelaus, good at the war cry, smiled,\nand stroked him with his hand, and spoke a word and called him by name:\n\"You're from good blood, dear child, from the way you talk.\nSo I'll change that for you; for I can.\nAnd of the gifts that lie as treasures in my house,\nI'll give you the one that's the most beautiful and the most valuable.\nI'll give you a well-made mixing bowl; it's all\nsilver, and the rims are worked in gold,\nmade by Hephaestus. The hero Phaedimus,\nking of the Sidonians, gave it to me, when his house sheltered\nme on my way home there; and I want to give it to you.\"\nSo the two of them said things like this to each other,\nand the guests went into the halls of the divine king.\nThey brought sheep, and carried wine that makes men glad;\nand their pretty, head-veiled wives sent them bread.\nSo these people busied themselves with dinner in the halls.\nBut the suitors, in front of Odysseus' house,\nwere enjoying themselves with quoits and throwing javelins\non the leveled ground, where they'd done it before, acting arrogant.\nAnd Antinous was sitting there, and godlike Eurymachus,\nthe leaders of the suitors, and they were far the best in bravery.\nAnd to them Noemon, son of Phronius, came up close\nand questioned Antinous and said to him:\n'Antinous, do we know in our minds, or don't we,\nwhen Telemachus will sail back from sandy Pylos?\nHe's gone off, taking my ship with him; and I need it\nto cross over to spacious Elis, where I have\ntwelve mares, and sturdy mules under them,\nunbroken; I'd like to drive one away and break it in.'\nSo he said, and they were amazed in their hearts; for they didn't think\nhe'd gone to Neleian Pylos, but that he was somewhere\nout in the fields with the sheep, or with the swineherd.\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:\n'Tell me the truth, when did he go, and which young men\nwent with him? Chosen men of Ithaca, or his own\nhired workers and slaves? He could do that too.\nAnd tell me this honestly, so I know well:\ndid he take the black ship from you by force, against your will,\nor did you give it willingly, since he asked you with words?'\nThen Noemon, son of Phronius, answered him:\n'I gave it to him willingly myself; what else could anyone do,\nwhen a man like that, with worries in his heart,\nasks? It would be hard to refuse the gift.\nAnd the young men who went with him are the ones who are best\nin the district among us; and I noticed their leader\ngoing aboard — Mentor, or a god, and he looked exactly like him.\nBut this I'm amazed at: I saw divine Mentor here\nyesterday morning, and then he went aboard the ship for Pylos.'\nSo saying that, he went off to his father's house,\nand the proud heart of both of them was upset.\nAnd they made the suitors sit down together and stopped the games.\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them,\nupset; and his dark heart was filled up\nwith rage, and his two eyes were like blazing fire:\n'Oh no, this trip of Telemachus has been pulled off\nin a grand and arrogant way; and we said it wouldn't happen.\nAgainst our will, the young boy has just gone off,\nhaving dragged out a ship and picked the best men in the district.\nHe'll start being a problem even further ahead; but may Zeus\ndestroy his strength himself, before he reaches manhood.\nBut come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions,\nso I can lie in wait for him as he comes and keep watch\nin the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos,\nso his sailing for his father turns out miserable.'\nSo he said, and they all agreed and told him to do it.\nRight away then they got up and went to Odysseus' house.\nAnd Penelope wasn't unaware for long\nof the words the suitors were brooding in their hearts;\nfor the herald Medon told her, who learned their plans\nas he stood outside the courtyard; and they were weaving their plan inside.\nAnd he went through the halls to tell Penelope;\nand as he crossed the threshold Penelope spoke to him:\n'Herald, why did the proud suitors send you?\nIs it to tell the maids of divine Odysseus\nto stop their work and make a feast for them?\nMay they never court again or meet together anywhere else,\nand may they now eat dinner here for the last and final time —\nthey who gather here so often and cut down my big livelihood,\nthe property of wise Telemachus; and you never heard\nabout your own fathers before, when you were children,\nwhat kind of man Odysseus was among your parents,\nnever doing or saying anything outrageous\nin the district — which is the way divine kings act;\none man he might hate, another he might love.\nBut that man never did anything reckless to anyone.\nBut your temper and your shameful deeds\nare plain, and there's no gratitude for kindness afterwards.'\nThen Medon, who knew wise things, answered her:\n'If only, my queen, this were the greatest evil.\nBut the suitors are planning something far bigger\nand more painful, which may the son of Cronus not carry out:\nthey mean to kill Telemachus with the sharp bronze\nas he comes home; and he's gone to find news of his father\nto holy Pylos and to shining Lacedaemon.'\nSo he said, and her knees and her own heart went weak beneath her,\nand for a long while she was speechless at his words; and her two eyes\nfilled with tears, and her full voice was stuck.\nAnd at last she answered him and said:\n'Herald, why has my son gone? He has no need\nto step aboard swift ships, which are horses of the sea\nfor men, and carry them over the great wet expanse.\nOr is it so that not even his name will be left among people?'\nThen Medon, who knew wise things, answered her:\n'I don't know whether some god stirred him up, or whether\nhis own heart pushed him to go to Pylos, so he could learn\nabout his father, either his homecoming or what death he met.'\nSo saying that, he went off through Odysseus' house.\nAnd heart-destroying grief poured around her, and she no longer had the strength\nto sit on a chair, though many were in the house,\nbut she sat down on the threshold of the well-made bedroom,\ncrying pitifully; and around her the maids murmured,\nall of them, as many as were young and old in the halls.\nAnd Penelope, weeping shrilly, spoke among them:\n'Listen, dear women; for the Olympian has given me grief\nbeyond all women, as many as were raised with me and born with me.\nI, who first lost my noble husband, a lion-hearted man,\noutstanding in every kind of virtue among the Greeks,\na noble man, whose fame is wide through Greece and central Argos.\nNow again a storm has snatched away my beloved son\nfrom the halls, with no one knowing, and I didn't hear he'd set out.\nCruel women, none of you in your hearts thought\nto wake me from my bed, knowing clearly in your hearts\nwhen that man went to the hollow black ship.\nFor if I'd heard he was planning that trip,\nthen even if he were eager to go, he would have stayed,\nor he would have left me dead in the halls.\nBut let someone quickly call old Dolius,\nmy slave, whom my father gave me before I came here,\nand who keeps my orchard full of trees, so that as fast as possible\nhe can sit beside Laertes and tell him all this,\nin case that man, weaving some plan in his heart,\ngoes out and complains to the people, who are determined\nto destroy the family of him and of godlike Odysseus.'\nThen her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:\n'Dear child, you can kill me with the pitiless bronze,\nor let me live in the hall; I won't hide the word from you.\nI knew all this, and I gave him whatever he asked for,\nbread and sweet wine; but he made me take a great oath\nnot to tell you before the twelfth day came,\nor before you yourself missed him and heard he'd set out,\nso you wouldn't cry and ruin your lovely skin.\nBut go wash yourself, put clean clothes on your body,\nand go up to the upper room with your waiting women,\nand pray to Athena, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis;\nfor she may then save him even from death.\nAnd don't make the old man worse, when he's already troubled; for I don't think\nthe blessed gods hate the family of Arcesius completely,\nbut there's still someone who will hold\nthe high-roofed house and the rich fields far off.'\nSo she said, and calmed her crying, and stopped her eyes from tears.\nAnd she, washed, with clean clothes on her body,\nwent up to the upper room with her waiting women,\nand put barley groats in a basket, and prayed to Athena:\n'Hear me, child of Zeus who holds the aegis, unwearied one,\nif ever Odysseus of many plans in his halls\nburned for you the rich thighbones of an ox or a sheep,\nremember that now for me, and save my dear son,\nand drive away the suitors who wickedly act so proud.'\nSo saying that, she cried out, and the goddess heard her prayer.\nAnd the suitors made a racket through the shadowy halls;\nand one of the proud young men would say:\n'The much-courted queen is surely getting\na wedding ready for us, and she doesn't know that death is ready for her son.'\nSo one of them would say, but they didn't know how it had been arranged.\nThen Antinous spoke to them and said:\n'Strange men, avoid all your arrogant talk\nalike, in case someone reports it even inside.\nBut come, let's get up in silence and carry out\nthe plan, which has pleased us all in our hearts.'\nSo saying that, he picked twenty of the best men,\nand they went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.\nFirst of all they dragged the ship down into the depths of the salt sea,\nand set up the mast and the sails in the black ship,\nand fitted the oars in their leather straps,\nall in order, and spread the white sails;\nand their high-hearted servants brought them their weapons.\nAnd they moored her out in the water, and went ashore themselves;\nand there they ate dinner, and waited for evening to come.\nBut thoughtful Penelope lay up in her upper room,\nwithout food, without a taste of meat or drink,\nturning over in her mind whether her blameless son would escape death,\nor whether he'd be beaten down by the arrogant suitors.\nAnd as many thoughts as a lion in a crowd of men\nturns over in fear, when they lead him in a treacherous circle,\nso many thoughts came over her, and then sweet sleep came on her;\nand she slept, leaning back, and all her limbs went limp.\nThen the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, thought of something else:\nshe made a ghost, and shaped it like a woman,\nIphthime, the daughter of great-hearted Icarius,\nwhom Eumelus married, living in Pherae.\nAnd she sent her to the house of divine Odysseus,\nso that she might make Penelope, mourning and wailing,\nstop crying and stop her tearful lament.\nShe came into the bedroom by the strap of the door bolt,\nand stood above her head, and spoke a word to her:\n'Are you asleep, Penelope, with a heart full of grief?\nThe gods who live at ease don't let you\ncry or be distressed, since your son is still\ngoing to come home; for he's not guilty in the eyes of the gods.'\nThen thoughtful Penelope answered her,\nsleeping very sweetly at the gates of dreams:\n'Sister, why have you come here? You never came here\nbefore, since you live very far away.\nAnd you tell me to stop my misery and my many\npains, which stir me in my heart and mind —\nI, who first lost my noble husband, a lion-hearted man,\noutstanding in every kind of virtue among the Greeks,\na noble man, whose fame is wide through Greece and central Argos;\nnow again my beloved son has gone in a hollow ship,\na foolish boy, who knows nothing well of hard work or of public speaking.\nFor him I grieve even more than for that other man;\nfor him I tremble and fear, in case something happens to him,\neither among the people where he's gone, or on the sea;\nfor many enemies are plotting against him,\neager to kill him before he reaches his homeland.'\nThen the dim ghost answered her and said:\n'Take courage, and don't be too afraid in your heart;\nfor a guide goes with him, one whom other men\nhave also prayed to stand beside them, and she can,\nPallas Athena; and she pities you in your grief;\nshe's the one who now sent me to tell you this.'\nThen thoughtful Penelope answered her:\n'If you're a god and have heard the voice of a god,\ncome then, tell me too about that poor man,\nwhether he's still alive and sees the sunlight,\nor whether he's already dead in the house of Hades.'\nThen the dim ghost answered her and said:\n'I won't tell you about that man at all exactly,\nwhether he lives or is dead; and it's wrong to speak empty words.'\nSo saying that, it slipped away past the door bolt of the hall\ninto the gusts of the winds. And she jumped up from sleep,\nthe daughter of Icarius; and her own heart was warmed,\nbecause the dream had come to her clearly in the dead of night.\nBut the suitors climbed aboard and sailed over the watery paths,\nplanning steep slaughter for Telemachus in their hearts.\nThere's a certain rocky island in the middle of the sea,\nbetween Ithaca and rugged Samos,\nAsteris, not big; and it has two harbors where ships can anchor,\ntwin-mouthed; there the Greeks waited in ambush for him.\n\n### Book 5\n\nDawn got up out of her bed, from beside noble Tithonus,\nto bring light to the gods and to people.\nThe gods were sitting down in council, and among them\nwas Zeus, who thunders high above and has the greatest power.\nAthena started telling them how much Odysseus had suffered,\nbecause she remembered him and felt bad that he was stuck in the nymph's house.\n\"Father Zeus, and all you other gods who live forever,\nlet no king with a scepter ever be kind and gentle again,\nor care about what is right in his heart.\nLet him always be cruel instead, and treat people badly,\nsince nobody remembers godlike Odysseus,\nnot the people he used to rule, though he was gentle as a father.\nHe is stuck on an island, suffering terrible pain,\nin the halls of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him there by force\nand will not let him go. He cannot get back to his own homeland,\nbecause he has no ships with oars, no crew\nto carry him over the wide back of the sea.\nAnd now they are planning to kill his son\non his way home. He went to ask about his father\nin holy Pylos and bright Sparta.\"\nZeus, the cloud-gatherer, answered her:\n\"My child, what kind of thing did you just say?\nWeren't you the one who planned this —\nthat Odysseus would come back and pay those men back?\nSend Telemachus off yourself. You know how, and you can do it.\nMake sure he gets to his own homeland safe and sound,\nand let the suitors sail home again\nwith nothing, the way they came.\" Then he spoke to his dear son Hermes:\n\"Hermes, you are our messenger for everything else too,\nso go tell the beautiful-haired nymph exactly what I have decided —\nOdysseus is going home, so that he may return\nwith no escort from gods or from people.\nHe will suffer on a well-built raft,\nand on the twentieth day reach fertile Scheria,\nthe land of the Phaeacians, who are close to the gods.\nThey will honor him from the heart as if he were a god,\nand they will send him home in a ship to his own country,\ngiving him plenty of bronze, gold, and clothes,\nmore than Odysseus ever got out of Troy,\neven if he had come home safe with his share of the loot.\nThat is his fate: to see the people he loves and reach\nhis high-roofed house and his own homeland.\"\nHe spoke, and Hermes the guide did not disobey.\nRight away he tied on his beautiful sandals,\nthe immortal golden ones that carry him over the water\nand over the endless land as fast as the wind blows.\nHe picked up the wand that charms people's eyes,\nwhoever he wants, and wakes others up again when they sleep.\nHolding it in his hands, strong Hermes flew.\nHe passed over Pieria and dropped from the sky down to the sea.\nHe skimmed the waves like a seagull\nthat hunts fish over the dangerous bays\nof the barren sea and dips its thick feathers in the salt water.\nLike that bird, Hermes rode over the many waves.\nWhen he reached the island far out in the sea,\nhe stepped out of the dark water onto land\nand walked until he came to the big cave where the nymph\nwith the beautiful hair lived. He found her inside.\nA big fire was burning on the hearth, and the smell of burning\nsplit cedar and juniper drifted far across the island.\nInside, she was singing with a lovely voice,\nwalking back and forth at her loom, weaving with a gold shuttle.\nA lush forest grew all around the cave:\nalder, poplar, and sweet-smelling cypress.\nLong-winged birds roosted there too,\nowls, hawks, and long-tongued sea crows,\nsea birds that spend their lives on the water.\nA young vine grew all around the hollow cave,\nin full bloom, heavy with grapes.\nFour springs flowed side by side with clear water,\nclose to each other, each running its own way.\nSoft meadows of violets and parsley\nbloomed all around. Even a god coming there\nwould stare at it and be glad in his heart.\nHermes stood there and stared.\nWhen he had looked at everything he wanted,\nhe went right into the wide cave. Calypso,\nthe shining goddess, saw him and knew him at once,\nbecause gods always recognize each other,\neven if one of them lives far away.\nHe did not find great-hearted Odysseus inside.\nOdysseus was sitting on the shore crying, like always,\nwearing his heart down with tears and groans and grief,\nstaring out over the barren sea, crying.\nCalypso, the shining goddess, asked Hermes questions\nafter she sat him down on a bright, gleaming throne:\n\"Why have you come to me, Hermes with the golden wand?\nYou are honored and welcome. You do not visit often.\nTell me what you have in mind. I want to do it for you\nif I can, and if it can be done.\nCome further inside, so I can give you something to eat.\"\nThe goddess said this and set a table in front of him\nfull of ambrosia, and mixed red nectar.\nHermes, the guide, ate and drank.\nWhen he had eaten and filled his heart with food,\nhe answered her with these words:\n\"You are asking a god why he came, goddess. I will\ntell you the truth, since you asked me to.\nZeus made me come here. I did not want to.\nWho would willingly run across so much salty water,\nso much you cannot measure it? There is no town of people nearby,\nnobody who makes sacrifices and burns offerings to the gods.\nBut no other god can get around the mind of Zeus\nor avoid it.\nHe says there is a man here, the most miserable of everyone,\none of the men who fought around Priam's city\nfor nine years, and in the tenth they sacked the city and went\nhome. But on the way home they insulted Athena,\nand she stirred up a bad wind and long waves against them.\nEvery one of his good companions died there,\nand the wind and the waves brought him here.\nZeus says to send him away as fast as you can,\nbecause it is not his fate to die here, away from the people he loves.\nHe is still fated to see his loved ones and reach\nhis high-roofed house and his own homeland.\"\nHe spoke, and Calypso, the shining goddess, shuddered,\nand answered him with these words:\n\"You gods are cruel, and more jealous than anyone else.\nYou get angry when goddesses sleep with men\nout in the open, when a goddess makes a mortal her husband.\nWhen rosy-fingered Dawn took Orion,\nyou gods who live easy lives were jealous of her\nuntil pure Artemis with the golden throne, in Ortygia,\ncame at him with her gentle arrows and killed him.\nAnd when beautiful-haired Demeter gave in\nin her heart and slept with Iasion in love and in bed\nin a field plowed three times, Zeus found out soon enough\nand struck him down with a bright thunderbolt and killed him.\nSo now you gods are jealous of me for keeping a mortal man.\nI saved him. He was riding the keel alone\nafter Zeus hit his fast ship with a bright thunderbolt\nand smashed it in the middle of the wine-dark sea.\nEvery one of his good companions died there,\nand the wind and the waves brought him here.\nI loved him and took care of him. I said I would make him\nimmortal and never old, for all his days.\nBut since no other god can get around the mind of Zeus\nor avoid it,\nlet him go, if Zeus is pushing him and telling him to,\nout over the barren sea. I will not send him myself.\nI have no ships with oars, no crew\nto carry him over the wide back of the sea.\nBut I will gladly tell him what to do, and hide nothing,\nso he gets to his own homeland safe and sound.\"\nHermes, the guide, answered her:\n\"Send him off now, then, and watch out for Zeus's anger,\nso he does not get furious later and make life hard for you.\"\nHe said this and left, strong Hermes.\nThe queenly nymph went to great-hearted Odysseus\nafter she heard Zeus's message.\nShe found him sitting on the shore. His eyes were never\ndry of tears, and his sweet life was draining away\nwhile he cried for home, because the nymph no longer pleased him.\nAt night he slept with her, and he had no choice,\nin the hollow caves, unwilling next to the willing one.\nDuring the day he would sit on the rocks and the beaches,\nwearing his heart down with tears and groans and grief,\nstaring out over the barren sea, crying.\nShe stood near him and spoke to him:\n\"You poor man, do not cry here anymore, and do not let your life\nwaste away. I will send you off right now, gladly.\nCome on: cut some long logs and fit them together\ninto a wide raft. Build a deck on top of it,\nup high, so it carries you over the misty sea.\nI will put food and water and red wine\non board, plenty to keep hunger away from you,\nand I will give you clothes. I will send a good wind behind you,\nso you reach your own homeland safe and sound,\nif the gods are willing, the ones who hold the wide sky,\nwho are better than me at planning and finishing things.\"\nHe heard this, and much-enduring shining Odysseus shuddered,\nand answered her with these words:\n\"Goddess, you have something else in mind here, not an escort.\nYou are telling me to cross the huge gulf of the sea on a raft,\na terrible and painful thing. Even solid ships\ndo not cross it, though they are fast and love a wind from Zeus.\nI will not step onto a raft against your will,\nunless you, goddess, dare to swear me a great oath\nthat you will not plot some other bad thing against me.\"\nHe spoke, and Calypso, the shining goddess, smiled\nand stroked him with her hand, and said:\n\"You are a rogue, and no fool, to have thought up\na speech like that to make.\nLet the earth know this now, and the wide sky above,\nand the water of the Styx that flows down, which is the greatest\nand most terrible oath for the blessed gods:\nI will not plot any other bad thing against you.\nI will think and plan the same kind of things\nI would plan for myself, if I needed them that badly.\nMy mind is fair too, and in my own chest\nmy heart is not made of iron. I have pity.\"\nShe said this and led the way\nquickly, and he followed in the goddess's footsteps.\nThe god and the man came to the hollow cave,\nand he sat down on the throne Hermes had gotten up from,\nand the nymph set out all kinds of food in front of him,\nto eat and drink, the kind of food mortal men eat.\nShe sat down facing godlike Odysseus,\nand her maids put ambrosia and nectar beside her.\nThey reached out their hands to the food set in front of them.\nWhen they had had enough food and drink,\nCalypso, the shining goddess, started talking to them:\n\"Son of Laertes, born of Zeus, clever Odysseus,\nso you really want to go home to your own country\nright now? Well, good luck to you even so.\nIf you knew in your heart how many troubles\nit is your fate to pile up before you reach your homeland,\nyou would stay here with me and watch over this house,\nand you would be immortal, even though you long to see\nyour wife, the one you want every single day.\nI do not claim to be worse than her at all,\nnot in body and not in looks, since it is not right\nfor mortal women to compete with immortal goddesses in body and beauty.\"\nClever Odysseus answered her:\n\"Goddess, do not be angry with me about this. I know\nall of this very well myself: that wise Penelope\nis smaller and less beautiful when you stand side by side.\nShe is mortal, and you are immortal and never grow old.\nBut even so I want and long every day\nto go home and see the day I get back.\nAnd if some god smashes me on the wine-dark sea,\nI will put up with it and keep a patient heart in my chest.\nI have already suffered a lot and worked hard\nin waves and in war. Let this be added to that.\"\nHe spoke, and the sun set and darkness came.\nThe two of them went to the back of the hollow cave\nand enjoyed each other in love, staying side by side.\nWhen early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nright away Odysseus put on his cloak and tunic,\nand the nymph herself put on a big silvery robe,\nthin and lovely, and she put a belt around her waist,\na beautiful gold one, and over her head a veil.\nThen she started planning how to send Odysseus off.\nShe gave him a big axe that fit his hands,\na bronze one, sharpened on both sides, and on it\nwas a really beautiful olive-wood handle, fitted on well.\nThen she gave him a polished adze, and she led the way\nto the far end of the island, where tall trees grew:\nalder, poplar, and fir that reached up to the sky,\ndry long ago and seasoned through, so they would float easily for him.\nWhen she had shown him where the tall trees grew,\nCalypso, the shining goddess, went back to her house,\nand he cut the logs. He got the work done quickly.\nHe brought out twenty of them and cut them with the bronze axe,\nsmoothed them carefully, and straightened them with a line.\nMeanwhile Calypso, the shining goddess, brought him drills.\nHe drilled all the logs through and fitted them to each other,\nand he hammered it tight with pegs and joints.\nA man who knows carpentry well shapes the bottom of a wide cargo ship\njust so,\nand that is how Odysseus built the wide raft.\nHe set up the deck, fitting it with close-set supports,\nand finished it off with long side beams.\nHe made a mast in it and a yard that fit it,\nand he made a steering oar besides, so he could steer.\nHe fenced the whole thing with woven willow\nto be a shield against the waves, and he piled on plenty of wood.\nMeanwhile Calypso, the shining goddess, brought him cloth\nto make sails, and he made those well too.\nHe tied braces and ropes and sheets on it,\nand dragged it down with levers into the shining sea.\nIt was the fourth day, and everything was finished.\nOn the fifth, shining Calypso sent him off the island,\nafter bathing him and giving him sweet-smelling clothes.\nThe goddess put a skin of dark wine on board,\none of the two, and a big one of water, and a sack\nof grain. She set out plenty of food for him, the kind that fills you up.\nShe sent a wind, harmless and gentle.\nGlad about the wind, shining Odysseus spread his sails.\nHe steered her skillfully with the steering oar,\nsitting down. Sleep never fell on his eyelids\nwhile he watched the Pleiades and the Bear-ward, which sets late,\nand the Bear, which people also call the Wagon,\nwhich turns in place and watches for Orion,\nand is the only one that has no share in the baths of Ocean.\nCalypso, the shining goddess, had told him\nto keep it on his left side as he crossed the sea.\nHe sailed seventeen days, crossing the sea,\nand on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains appeared,\nthe land of the Phaeacians, which lay closest to him,\nand it looked like a shield of hide in the misty sea.\nThe lord Earthshaker was coming back from the Ethiopians\nand saw it far off, from the Solymi mountains, because he spotted it\nas he sailed on the sea. He got even angrier in his heart,\nand he shook his head and said to himself:\n\"So then, the gods have clearly changed their plans\nabout Odysseus while I was away with the Ethiopians,\nand he is already near the land of the Phaeacians, where it is his fate\nto get past the great limit of the misery that has come on him.\nBut I still think I will drive him deep into trouble.\"\nHe said this and gathered the clouds and stirred up the sea,\ntaking his trident in his hands, and he stirred up every blast\nof every kind of wind, and with clouds he covered\nthe land and the sea together, and night rushed down from the sky.\nThe East Wind and the South Wind fell on him, and the harsh West Wind\nand the North Wind born in clear air, rolling up a huge wave.\nThen Odysseus' knees went weak, and his heart too,\nand troubled he said to himself:\n\"Poor me, what is going to happen to me in the end?\nI am afraid the goddess told me the exact truth,\nthe one who said that on the sea, before I get home,\nI would get a bellyful of trouble. Now it is all coming true.\nLook how Zeus wraps the wide sky in clouds,\nand he has stirred up the sea, and the blasts rush on\nfrom every kind of wind. Now my death is certain.\nThe Greeks who died back then were lucky three and four times over,\nthe ones who died in wide Troy, pleasing the sons of Atreus.\nI wish I had died there and met my fate\non the day when the most Trojans\nthrew their bronze-tipped spears at me around the fallen son of Peleus.\nThen I would have gotten a funeral, and the Greeks would spread my fame.\nBut now it is my fate to be caught by a miserable death.\"\nWhile he said this, a huge wave hit him on the crest,\nrushing on terribly, and spun the raft around.\nHe himself fell far from the raft, and the steering oar\nhe let go out of his hands. The mast broke in the middle\nwhen the terrible squall came, with the winds all mixed together,\nand the sail and the yard fell far off into the sea.\nIt held him under the water a long time, and he could not\ncome up fast from the rush of that huge wave,\nbecause his clothes weighed him down, the ones shining Calypso gave him.\nAt last he came up and spat the bitter salt water\nout of his mouth, and it poured off his head in streams.\nBut even so, worn out as he was, he did not forget the raft,\nbut he rushed back through the waves and grabbed hold of it,\nand sat down in the middle of it, dodging death.\nThe huge wave carried it along the current, this way and that.\nLike when the North Wind in late summer carries thistledown\nacross a field, and the tufts stick to each other,\nthat is how the winds carried it over the deep, this way and that.\nSometimes the South Wind threw it to the North Wind to carry,\nand sometimes the East Wind gave way to the West Wind chasing it.\nThe daughter of Cadmus saw him, fair-ankled Ino,\nLeucothea, who used to be a mortal woman with a human voice,\nand now in the depths of the sea has a share of the gods' honor.\nShe felt sorry for Odysseus as he wandered, holding his sorrows,\nand she rose up out of the water like a diving bird in flight,\nand sat on the well-built raft and said:\n\"You poor man, why is Poseidon the Earthshaker\nso terribly angry at you, that he keeps making so much trouble for you?\nHe will not kill you, even though he wants to very badly.\nJust do exactly this, because you do not seem stupid to me:\ntake off these clothes and leave the raft to be carried by the winds,\nand strike out with your hands and swim for home,\nfor the land of the Phaeacians, where it is your fate to escape.\nThere, spread this veil under your chest,\nan immortal one, and you have no need to fear suffering or dying.\nBut once you lay hold of the mainland with your hands,\nloosen it again and throw it into the wine-dark sea,\nfar from the land, and turn away yourself.\"\nShe said this, and the goddess gave him the veil,\nand she herself dove back into the surging sea\nlike a diving bird, and the dark wave covered her.\nMuch-enduring shining Odysseus thought it over,\nand troubled he said to himself:\n\"This is bad. What if one of the gods is weaving a trap for me again,\none who tells me to get off the raft?\nBut I will not obey, not yet, since with my own eyes I saw\nthe land far off, where she said escape was for me.\nBut I will do exactly this, and it seems best to me:\nas long as the logs hold together in their joints,\nI will stay right here and put up with it, suffering pain.\nBut when the wave shakes the raft apart for me,\nthen I will swim, since there is nothing better at hand to plan.\"\nWhile he was turning this over in his mind and heart,\nPoseidon the Earthshaker stirred up a huge wave against him,\nterrible and painful and towering, and drove it at him.\nLike when a violent wind shakes a pile of dry chaff\non a threshing floor, and scatters it all this way and that,\nthat is how it scattered the raft's long logs. But Odysseus\nclimbed on top of a single log, riding it like a horse,\nand stripped off the clothes shining Calypso had given him.\nRight away he spread the veil under his chest,\nand he himself fell face down into the salt sea, stretching out his hands,\neager to swim. The lord Earthshaker saw him,\nand he shook his head and said to himself:\n\"So now, after suffering many evils, go wandering over the sea,\nuntil you mix with men who are raised by Zeus.\nBut not even so do I think you will laugh off your trouble.\"\nHe said this and whipped his beautiful-maned horses,\nand came to Aegae, where his famous house is.\nBut Athena, the daughter of Zeus, thought of something else.\nShe tied up the paths of the other winds\nand ordered them all to stop and go to sleep.\nShe stirred up the swift North Wind and broke the waves in front of him,\nuntil Zeus-born Odysseus, escaping death and doom,\ncould reach the Phaeacians who love the oar.\nFor two nights and two days on the solid swell\nhe drifted, and many times his heart saw death coming.\nBut when beautiful-haired Dawn finished the third day,\nthen the wind stopped, and there came a windless calm,\nand he saw land close by,\nlooking sharply ahead as he was lifted by the huge wave.\nLike when life looks welcome to children,\nwhen their father lies in sickness, suffering terrible pain,\nwasting away for a long time, and a hateful spirit is on him,\nand then the gods gladly set him free from his misery,\nthat is how welcome the land and the woods looked to Odysseus,\nand he swam eagerly to set his feet on the mainland.\nBut when he was as far off as a shout carries,\nhe heard the sea crashing against the rocks,\nbecause the huge wave roared against the dry land,\nbellowing terribly, and everything was wrapped in sea foam.\nThere were no harbors for ships, no anchorages,\nbut jutting headlands and rocks and cliffs.\nThen Odysseus' knees went weak, and his heart too,\nand troubled he said to himself:\n\"Poor me, Zeus has let me see land I had given up on,\nand I have cut across this gulf and made it through,\nbut there is no way out of the gray sea anywhere.\nOutside there are sharp cliffs, and around them the wave\nroars with the surf, and the smooth rock rises up,\nand the water is deep close in, and there is no way with my feet\nto stand on both of them and escape this misery.\nIf I climb out, a huge wave might grab me and throw me\nagainst the jagged rock, and my effort will be wasted.\nBut if I swim further on, in the hope that I may find\nslanted shorelines and harbors of the sea,\nI am afraid a squall will snatch me up again\nand carry me over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily,\nor a god will send some huge sea monster at me\nout of the sea, the kind famous Amphitrite breeds in numbers,\nbecause I know well how the famous Earthshaker hates me.\"\nWhile he was turning this over in his mind and heart,\nmeanwhile a huge wave carried him toward the rough shore.\nThere his skin would have been scraped off and his bones crushed,\nif the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, had not put it in his mind.\nHe rushed forward and grabbed the rock with both hands,\nand he held on groaning until the huge wave passed by.\nSo he escaped that one, but the backwash wave\nstruck him again as it rushed on, and threw him far out into the sea.\nLike when an octopus is dragged out of its hole,\nand the pebbles stick thick to its suckers,\nthat is how his skin was torn off his strong hands\nagainst the rocks, and the huge wave covered him.\nThen miserable Odysseus would have died beyond his fate,\nif bright-eyed Athena had not given him understanding.\nHe came up out of the wave that gushes toward the mainland\nand swam along the shore, looking toward land, hoping to find\nslanted shorelines and harbors of the sea.\nThen he came swimming to the mouth of a fair-flowing river,\nthe very spot that seemed best to him,\nsmooth of rocks, and there was shelter from the wind.\nHe knew the stream flowing out and prayed in his heart:\n\"Hear me, lord, whoever you are. I come to you, much prayed to,\nfleeing from the sea and the rebuke of Poseidon.\nAny man who comes as a wanderer is respected\neven by the immortal gods, and that is how I come now\nto your stream and your knees, after much hard work.\nBut have pity, lord. I declare myself your suppliant.\"\nHe said this, and the river at once stopped its stream and checked its wave,\nand made a calm in front of him, and saved him\nat the river's mouth. He bent both knees\nand his strong hands, because his dear heart was overcome by the sea.\nHis whole skin was swollen, and a lot of sea water\ngushed from his mouth and nostrils, and he lay there breathless and speechless,\nbarely alive, and terrible exhaustion came over him.\nBut when he breathed again and the spirit gathered in his chest,\nthen he untied the goddess's veil from himself\nand let it fall into the river that swells with the sea,\nand a huge wave carried it back down the stream, and quickly Ino\ncaught it in her own hands. He turned aside from the river\nand lay down in a bed of reeds and kissed the life-giving earth.\nTroubled, he said to himself:\n\"Poor me, what do I suffer now? What will happen to me in the end?\nIf I keep a miserable watch all night by the river,\nin case the wicked frost and the soft dew together\novercome me and drain my spirit while I am weak,\nand a cold breeze blows from the river before dawn,\nbut if I go up the slope and lie down in the shady woods,\nin the thick bushes, and if the cold and the tiredness let me go\nand sweet sleep comes over me,\nI am afraid I will become the prey and the prize of wild animals.\"\nSo as he thought it over, this seemed better to him.\nHe went into the woods, and found them near the water\nin an open place, and he crawled under two bushes\nthat had grown from the same spot, one wild olive and one cultivated olive.\nThe strength of the wet-blowing winds could not blow through them,\nand the shining sun never hit them with its rays,\nand rain never passed through. They were so thick,\ngrown through each other. Under them Odysseus\ncrawled. Right away he piled up a bed with his own hands,\na wide one, because there was a huge pile of leaves,\nenough to shelter two or three men\nin the winter season, even if it were very harsh.\nSeeing it, much-enduring shining Odysseus was glad,\nand he lay down in the middle of it and piled leaves over himself.\nLike when a man hides a firebrand in black ashes\nat the edge of a field, where there are no neighbors near,\nsaving the seed of fire, so that it is not kindled from somewhere else,\nthat is how Odysseus covered himself with leaves, and Athena\npoured sleep over his eyes, so that she might put an end to him\nmost quickly, covering his dear eyelids from his toil and weariness.\n\n### Book 6\n\nSo the much-enduring noble Odysseus slept there,\nworn out by sleep and toil; but Athena\nwent to the city and the district of the Phaeacian men,\nwho once long ago lived in broad Hypereia,\nclose to the Cyclopes, arrogant men,\nwho kept harming them, and were stronger than they were in force.\nGodlike Nausithous led them away from there and settled them\nin Scheria, far from men who work for their bread,\nand he built a wall around the city, and built houses,\nand made temples for the gods, and divided up the farmland.\nBut he had already gone down to Hades, overcome by death,\nand Alcinous ruled then, knowing counsel from the gods.\nThe goddess, grey-eyed Athena, went to his house,\nplanning a return home for great-hearted Odysseus.\nShe went into the richly decorated bedroom, in which a young girl\nwas sleeping, like the immortal goddesses in body and in form,\nNausicaa, the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,\nand beside her were two maids, who had their beauty from the Graces,\none on each side of the doorposts; and the shining doors were shut.\nShe rushed to the girl's bed like a gust of wind,\nand stood above her head, and spoke a word to her,\nappearing as the daughter of Dymas, famous for his ships,\nwho was the same age as her, and was dear to her heart.\nResembling her, grey-eyed Athena spoke to her:\nNausicaa, why did your mother bear you to be so careless?\nYour clothes lie uncared for, all of them gleaming, and\nyour marriage is near, when you must dress yourself\nin beautiful things, and give some to those who lead you.\nFor from these things good report rises among people,\nand your father and your honored mother rejoice.\nBut let us go to wash at the appearing Dawn;\nand I will come along with you as a helper, so that as quickly as possible\nyou may be ready, since you will not be a maiden much longer;\nfor already the best men throughout the district\namong all the Phaeacians are courting you, where your own family is.\nBut come, urge your famous father at daybreak\nto get the mules and the wagon ready, which may carry\nyour belts and robes and gleaming blankets.\nAnd for you yourself it is much better than going\non foot; for the washing places are far from the city.\nSo saying, grey-eyed Athena left\nfor Olympus, where they say the gods' seat is always\nsecure. It is not shaken by any winds, nor ever\nwet with rain, nor does snow come near it, but the clear air\nspreads out quite cloudless, and a white gleam runs over it;\nin it the blessed gods take pleasure every day.\nThere grey-eyed Athena went, when she had explained things to the girl.\nAt once Dawn of the beautiful throne came, who woke\nfair-robed Nausicaa; and she at once wondered at the dream,\nand she went through the house to tell her parents,\nher dear father and mother; and she found them inside.\nHer mother sat at the hearth with her women servants\nspinning sea-purple wool; and she met her father\nas he was going out to the famous kings,\nto the council, where the proud Phaeacians called him.\nShe stood very close and spoke to her dear father:\nDear papa, would you not get ready for me a wagon\ntall and with good wheels, so that I can take the famous clothes\nto the river to wash, which lie dirtied for me?\nAnd it is proper for you too, when you sit among the leading men,\nto plan counsels wearing clean clothes on your skin.\nAnd five dear sons have been born to you in the halls,\ntwo of them married, and three flourishing young men;\nand they always want, with newly washed clothes,\nto go to the dancing place; and all this is a concern to my heart.\nSo she spoke; for she was ashamed to name her blooming marriage\nto her dear father. But he understood everything and answered with a word:\nI do not begrudge you the mules, child, nor anything else.\nGo on; and the servants will get the wagon ready,\ntall and with good wheels, fitted with a frame on top.\nSo saying, he called to the servants, and they obeyed.\nThey brought out from the yard the well-wheeled mule wagon\nand brought up the mules and yoked them under the wagon;\nand the girl brought shining clothing from the bedroom.\nAnd she laid it on the well-polished wagon,\nand her mother put satisfying food in a basket,\nof every kind, and put in cooked food, and poured in wine\nin a goatskin; and the girl climbed onto the wagon.\nAnd she gave liquid olive oil in a golden flask,\nso that she and her women maids could anoint themselves.\nAnd she took the whip and the gleaming reins,\nand struck them to drive; and there was a clatter of the two mules.\nThey strained on without stopping, and carried the clothing and her,\nnot her alone, for the other maids went along with her too.\nWhen they came to the beautiful stream of the river,\nwhere the washing places were always there, and plenty of water\nflowed out, very good for washing even dirty things,\nthere they unhitched the mules from the wagon.\nAnd they drove them along the swirling river\nto graze on honey-sweet grass; and they from the wagon\ntook the clothes in their hands and carried them into the dark water,\nand trampled them in the pits quickly, racing each other.\nBut when they had washed and cleaned off all the dirt,\nthey spread them out in a row along the shore of the sea, where most\nthe sea washed the pebbles up onto the land.\nAnd they, after bathing and anointing themselves richly with oil,\nthen took their meal beside the banks of the river,\nand the clothes waited for the sun's rays to dry them.\nBut when the maids and she herself had enjoyed the food,\nthey played with a ball, throwing off their headscarves;\nand white-armed Nausicaa began the song for them.\nAs Artemis the arrow-pourer goes through the mountains,\neither along very tall Taygetus or Erymanthus,\ntaking pleasure in boars and swift deer;\nand with her the nymphs, the daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus,\nthe ones of the fields, play, and Leto rejoices in her heart;\nand above all of them she holds her head and forehead,\nand she is easily recognized, and all of them are beautiful;\nso the unwedded maiden stood out among her maids.\nBut when she was about to go back home again,\nafter yoking the mules and folding the beautiful clothes,\nthen again the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, thought of another thing:\nthat Odysseus might wake up, and see the fair-faced girl,\nwho might guide him to the city of the Phaeacian men.\nThen the princess threw the ball at a maid;\nshe missed the maid, and threw it into a deep whirlpool;\nand they screamed loudly; and noble Odysseus woke up,\nand sitting up he pondered in his mind and heart:\nOh no, to the land of what mortals have I come now?\nAre they violent and savage and not just,\nor are they hospitable, and is their mind god-fearing?\nAs of girls a woman's cry came around me,\nof nymphs, who hold the steep peaks of the mountains\nand the springs of rivers and the grassy meadows.\nOr am I somewhere near people who speak with a human voice?\nBut come, I will try for myself and see.\nSo saying, noble Odysseus crept out from under the bushes,\nand from the thick wood he broke off a leafy branch with his thick hand,\nfull of leaves, to wrap the man's private parts around his body.\nHe went like a mountain-raised lion trusting in its strength,\nwhich goes on wet and blown by the wind, and in it its two eyes\nblaze; but it goes after cattle or sheep\nor wild deer; and its belly commands it\nto try for the flocks and come into the close-built fold;\nso Odysseus was about to mix with the fair-haired girls,\nthough he was naked; for need had come upon him.\nHe appeared terrible to them, disfigured by the salt sea,\nand they fled scattered to the jutting shores;\nbut the daughter of Alcinous alone stayed; for Athena\nput courage in her heart and took fear from her limbs.\nShe stood facing him and held her ground; and Odysseus pondered\nwhether he should grasp her knees and beg the fair-faced girl,\nor beg her from a distance with gentle words,\nin case she would show him the city and give him clothes.\nSo to him thinking, it seemed the better thing\nto beg with gentle words from a distance,\nso that, if he grasped her knees, the girl would not be angry in her heart.\nAt once he spoke a gentle and clever word:\nI beg you, lady: are you some god, or a mortal?\nIf you are some god, one of those who hold the wide heaven,\nthen to Artemis, daughter of great Zeus, I\nliken you most closely in form and size and build.\nBut if you are one of the mortals, who live on the earth,\nthree times blessed are your father and your honored mother,\nthree times blessed your brothers; surely their heart\nis always warmed with gladness because of you,\nas they look at such a young shoot entering the dance.\nBut that man is beyond others the most blessed in his heart,\nwho, loaded with bride gifts, leads you home.\nFor never yet have I seen with my eyes such a mortal,\nneither a man nor a woman; awe holds me as I look.\nOn Delos once, beside the altar of Apollo,\nI noticed a young shoot of a palm growing up;\nfor I went there too, and a great crowd followed me,\non the journey on which evils were going to befall me.\nAnd just so, seeing that, I marveled in my heart\nfor a long time, since no such tree had ever grown up from the earth,\nas you, lady, I wonder at and marvel at, and I fear terribly\nto touch your knees; but a hard grief comes over me.\nYesterday, on the twentieth day, I escaped the wine-dark sea;\nduring that time the wave and the swift storms kept carrying me\nfrom the island of Ogygia. Now a god threw me down here,\nso that I may perhaps suffer some evil even here too; for I do not think\nit will stop, but the gods will still accomplish many things before that.\nBut, lady, take pity; for after suffering many evils\nI have come to you first, and of the others I know no one\nof the men who hold this city and this land.\nShow me the town, and give me a rag to put around me,\nif perhaps you had some wrapping of cloths when you came here.\nMay the gods give you as much as you desire in your heart:\na husband and a house, and may they grant you good\nagreement of mind; for nothing is better or finer\nthan when a man and wife keep a house\nagreeing in their thoughts; great grief to their enemies,\nbut joy to their friends, and most of all they themselves hear of it.\nAnd white-armed Nausicaa answered him in turn:\nStranger, since you seem neither a bad man nor a foolish one,\nZeus himself, the Olympian, hands out wealth to people,\nto the good and the bad, to each as he wishes;\nand perhaps he has given this to you, and you must endure it anyway.\nBut now, since you have come to our city and land,\nyou will lack neither clothing nor anything else\nthat is proper for a suffering suppliant who meets one.\nI will show you the town, and I will tell you the name of the people.\nThe Phaeacians hold this city and this land,\nand I am the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,\nand from him come the strength and power of the Phaeacians.\nShe spoke, and called to her fair-haired maids:\nStand by me, maids; where are you running, seeing a man?\nSurely you do not think he is some hostile man?\nThere is no such living mortal man, nor will there be,\nwho will come to the land of the Phaeacian men\nbringing war; for they are very dear to the immortals.\nWe live far away in the much-surging sea,\nat the very edge, and no other mortal mixes with us.\nBut this is some wretched man wandering who has come here,\nwhom we must now take care of; for all are from Zeus,\nboth strangers and beggars, and the gift is small but dear.\nBut give, maids, the stranger food and drink,\nand bathe him in the river, where there is shelter from the wind.\nSo she spoke, and they stood and called to each other,\nand they sat Odysseus down in the shelter, as Nausicaa\nthe daughter of great-hearted Alcinous had commanded;\nand beside him they laid a cloak and a tunic, clothes,\nand they gave liquid olive oil in a golden flask,\nand they told him to bathe in the streams of the river.\nThen noble Odysseus spoke to the maids:\nMaids, stand back so far away, so that I myself\nmay wash the salt brine from my shoulders, and all over\nrub myself with oil; for the ointment has been off my skin for a long time.\nAnd I will not bathe in front of you; for I am ashamed\nto strip naked among fair-haired girls.\nSo he spoke, and they went away, and told the girl.\nBut noble Odysseus washed from his body in the river\nthe brine, which covered his back and broad shoulders,\nand from his head he wiped off the scum of the barren sea.\nBut when he had bathed all over and anointed himself richly with oil,\nand put on the clothes which the unwedded maiden gave him,\nthen Athena, born of Zeus, made him\ngreater to look at and broader, and down from his head\nshe sent curly hair, like a hyacinth flower.\nAs when a man pours gold over silver,\na skilled man, whom Hephaestus taught and Pallas Athena\nevery kind of craft, and he finishes graceful works,\nso she poured grace over his head and shoulders.\nThen he went and sat apart on the shore of the sea,\nshining with beauty and graces; and the girl looked at him.\nThen she spoke to her fair-haired maids:\nListen to me, white-armed maids, so that I may say something.\nNot against the will of all the gods, who hold Olympus,\ndoes this man mix with the godlike Phaeacians;\nfor before he seemed to me unseemly,\nbut now he is like the gods, who hold the wide heaven.\nIf only such a man might be called my husband,\nliving here, and it might please him to stay here.\nBut give, maids, the stranger food and drink.\nSo she spoke, and they listened to her well and obeyed,\nand set beside Odysseus food and drink.\nAnd much-enduring noble Odysseus drank and ate\ngreedily; for he had been without food for a long time.\nBut white-armed Nausicaa thought of other things:\nshe folded the clothes and laid them on the beautiful wagon,\nand yoked the strong-hoofed mules, and climbed up herself,\nand urged Odysseus on, and spoke a word and addressed him:\nGet up now, stranger, and go to the city, so that I may send you\nto the house of my father, the wise-hearted, where I say you\nwill know all the Phaeacians, as many as are the best.\nBut do exactly as I say, and you seem to me not to be senseless.\nAs long as we go through the fields and the works of men,\nfor that time, with the maids, behind the mules and the wagon,\nwalk quickly; and I will lead the way.\nBut when we come to the city, around which there is a wall\nhigh, and a beautiful harbor on either side of the city,\nand a narrow entrance; and the curved ships\nare drawn up along the road; for each has its own mooring place.\nAnd there their assembly is around a beautiful place of Poseidon,\nfitted with drawn stones buried in the ground.\nAnd there they busy themselves with the gear of the black ships,\ncables and ropes, and they sharpen oars.\nFor the Phaeacians do not care about bow or quiver,\nbut about masts and oars of ships and the trim ships,\nin which, exulting, they cross the grey sea.\nI avoid their harsh talk, lest someone afterward\nfind fault with me; for they are very arrogant in the district.\nAnd some worse man might meet me and say this:\nWho is this that follows Nausicaa, handsome and tall,\na stranger? Where did she find him? He will be her husband.\nEither she took in some wanderer from his ship,\nfrom men from far away, since none are near;\nor some god came, greatly prayed for, to her as she prayed,\ncoming down from heaven, and he will have her all her days.\nBetter that she herself had gone and found a husband\nfrom elsewhere; for surely she dishonors these\nPhaeacians, who court her, many and noble.\nSo they will say, and these would be reproaches to me.\nAnd I myself blame another woman, whoever does such things,\nwho, against the will of her dear father and mother while they live,\nmixes with men, before a public marriage comes.\nStranger, you then understand my word quickly, so that as quickly as possible\nyou may get escort and return home from my father.\nYou will find a glorious grove of Athena near the road,\nof poplars; and a spring flows in it, and around it a meadow;\nand there is my father's precinct and a flourishing orchard,\nas far from the town as a man can shout.\nSit there and wait for a time, until we\ncome to the town and reach my father's house.\nBut when you think we have arrived at the house,\nthen go to the city of the Phaeacians and ask\nfor the house of my father, great-hearted Alcinous.\nIt is easy to recognize, and even a foolish child could lead you\nto it; for not at all like the other\nPhaeacian houses is the house of Alcinous\nthe hero built. But when the house and the courtyard cover you,\ngo very quickly through the hall, until you come\nto my mother; and she sits at the hearth in the light of the fire,\nspinning sea-purple wool, a wonder to look at,\nleaning against a pillar; and her maids sit behind her.\nAnd there my father's throne is set close to hers,\non which he sits and drinks wine, like an immortal.\nPassing by him, throw your hands around my mother's knees,\nso that you may see your day of return,\nrejoicing and quickly, even if you are very far away.\nIf she has kind thoughts for you in her heart,\nthen there is hope for you to see your friends and come\nto your well-built house and your own native land.\nSo saying, she lashed the mules with the shining whip;\nand they quickly left the streams of the river.\nThey trotted well, and turned their feet well;\nand she drove very well, so that on foot might follow\nthe maids and Odysseus, and with her mind she applied the whip.\nAnd the sun set, and they came to the glorious grove\nsacred to Athena, where noble Odysseus sat down.\nAt once then he prayed to the daughter of great Zeus:\nHear me, child of aegis-bearing Zeus, Unwearied One;\nnow indeed hear me, since never before did you hear me\nwhen I was being crushed, when the glorious Earth-shaker crushed me.\nGrant that I come to the Phaeacians as one dear and pitied.\nSo he spoke praying, and Pallas Athena heard him.\nBut she did not yet appear to him face to face; for she was ashamed\nbefore her father's brother; and he raged fiercely\nagainst godlike Odysseus before he reached his own land.\n\n### Book 7\n\nSo Odysseus, who had suffered so much, prayed there,\nand the mules pulled the girl toward the city.\nWhen she reached her father's famous house,\nshe stopped in the doorway, and her brothers crowded around her\nlooking like gods; they unhitched the mules from the wagon\nand carried the clothes inside.\nShe went to her room, and an old woman lit a fire for her,\nan old slave from Apeira, her maid Eurymedusa,\nwhom ships had once brought from Apeira.\nThey had picked her out as a gift for Alcinous, because he ruled\nall the Phaeacians, and the people obeyed him like a god.\nShe was the one who raised white-armed Nausicaa in the house.\nShe lit the fire and got supper ready inside.\nThen Odysseus got up to go into the city, and Athena\npoured a thick mist around him, wishing him well,\nso that no proud Phaeacian who met him\nwould mock him with questions about who he was.\nBut when he was about to enter the lovely city,\nthe goddess met him there, bright-eyed Athena,\nlooking like a young girl carrying a water jug.\nShe stood in front of him, and great Odysseus asked her:\n\"My child, could you show me the house of the man\nAlcinous, who is king over these people?\nI've come here as a stranger who's been through a lot,\nfrom a far country, and I know nobody\nof the people who live in this town and land.\"\nThe goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:\n\"Then I'll show you the house you're asking me for,\nstranger — it stands close to my own good father's.\nBut come along quietly, and I'll lead the way,\nand don't stare at anyone or ask questions.\nThese people don't really put up with strangers,\nand they don't welcome and befriend anyone who comes from elsewhere.\nThey trust their fast ships\nto cross the huge open sea, because the sea god gave them that gift.\nTheir ships are as quick as a bird's wing, as quick as a thought.\"\nWith that, Pallas Athena led the way\nquickly, and he followed in the goddess's footsteps.\nThe famous sailors of Phaeacia never noticed him\nwalking through the town among them, because Athena\nwith her lovely braids, that powerful goddess, wouldn't let them — she poured\na magic mist over him, because she wished him well.\nOdysseus was amazed at the harbors and the balanced ships,\nat the meeting places of the heroes themselves, and the long\nhigh walls studded with sharp stakes — a wonder to look at.\nWhen they reached the king's famous house,\nthe goddess spoke to him first, bright-eyed Athena:\n\"Stranger, this is the house you asked me\nto show you. You'll find the kings raised by Zeus\nat their feast. Go inside, and in your heart\ndon't be afraid — a bold man always does better\nin everything, even if he comes from some other land.\nFirst you'll meet the lady of the house.\nHer name is Arete, and it fits her, because she comes from the same parents\nas Alcinous the king.\nThe sea god Poseidon first fathered\nNausithous with Periboea, the most beautiful of women,\nthe youngest daughter of great-hearted Eurymedon,\nwho was once king over the arrogant Giants.\nBut he destroyed his reckless people, and died himself.\nPoseidon slept with her and had a son,\ngreat-hearted Nausithous, who ruled the Phaeacians.\nNausithous had two sons, Rhexenor and Alcinous.\nApollo with the silver bow struck Rhexenor down\nas a bridegroom in his own hall, and he left only one child,\nArete. Alcinous married her,\nand honored her more than any other woman on earth,\nmore than any woman who now keeps a house under her husband.\nThat's how much she is honored, from the heart,\nby her own children, by Alcinous himself,\nand by the people, who look at her like a god\nand greet her when she walks through the town.\nShe's no fool either — she has good sense.\nWhen she wants to, she can settle quarrels between men.\nIf she feels friendly toward you in her heart,\nthen there's hope you'll see your family and get home\nto your high-roofed house and your own homeland.\"\nWith that, bright-eyed Athena left\nover the barren sea, leaving lovely Scheria behind.\nShe came to Marathon and wide-streeted Athens,\nand went into the solid house of Erechtheus. Meanwhile Odysseus\nwalked toward Alcinous' famous house, and his heart\nturned over many things as he stood there, before he reached the bronze threshold.\nThe house of great-hearted Alcinous gleamed\nthrough its high roof like the light of the sun or the moon.\nBronze walls ran along it on every side,\nfrom the doorway to the back room, with a band of blue enamel around the top.\nGolden doors shut off the solid house inside.\nSilver doorposts stood on the bronze threshold,\nwith a silver lintel above them and a gold handle.\nOn each side were dogs of gold and silver,\nmade by Hephaestus with his clever skill\nto guard the house of great-hearted Alcinous.\nThey never die and never age, forever.\nInside, seats were set along the wall on both sides,\nall the way from the doorway to the back room, and on them\nfine, tightly woven cloths were spread out, made by women.\nThere the leaders of the Phaeacians sat\ndrinking and eating, since they always had plenty.\nGolden statues of young men stood on well-built pedestals,\nholding blazing torches in their hands\nto light up the hall at night for the diners.\nFifty slave women worked in the house:\nsome ground the golden grain at the mills,\nothers wove at the looms and spun the thread,\nsitting still, like leaves on a tall poplar.\nOil trickles wet from the close-woven linen cloth.\nThe Phaeacians are the best men in the world\nat driving a fast ship over the sea, and the women\nare just as skilled at weaving; Athena gave them that,\nbeyond everyone — skill in beautiful work and good minds.\nOutside the courtyard, near the doors, is a big orchard\nof four acres, with a hedge running around it on both sides.\nTall trees grow there, thick with life:\npear trees, pomegranates, apple trees heavy with shining fruit,\nsweet fig trees, and blooming olive trees.\nTheir fruit never rots or runs out,\nnot in winter or summer — it lasts all year. And the west wind\nblowing always makes some buds grow and ripens others.\nPear grows old on pear, apple on apple,\ngrape cluster on grape cluster, fig on fig.\nA rich vineyard is rooted there too.\nOne part of it is a flat drying-floor,\ndrying in the sun; others are being picked,\nothers being trampled; and in front are young sour grapes\njust dropping their blossom, while still others are turning dark.\nNeat garden beds grow along the far end,\nall kinds of plants, green and shining all year.\nTwo springs run there: one waters the whole garden,\nthe other flows out on the other side, under the courtyard wall,\ntoward the tall house, where the townspeople drew their water.\nThose were the shining gifts of the gods in Alcinous' house.\nOdysseus, who had suffered so much, stood and stared.\nWhen he had looked at everything he wanted in his heart,\nhe quickly stepped over the threshold into the house.\nHe found the leaders and rulers of the Phaeacians\npouring out wine from cups to sharp-eyed Hermes,\nto whom they always poured last, when they thought of going to bed.\nOdysseus, who had suffered so much, walked through the hall\nwearing the thick mist Athena had poured around him,\nuntil he reached Arete and King Alcinous.\nHe threw his arms around Arete's knees,\nand then the magic mist poured off him again.\nThe people went silent, seeing a man in the hall.\nThey stared in amazement, and Odysseus prayed:\n\"Arete, daughter of godlike Rhexenor,\nI come to your husband, to your knees, after much hardship,\nand to these diners. May the gods give them prosperity\nas long as they live, and may each one leave to his children\nhis property in the house and the honor the people gave him.\nBut for me — hurry my escort home,\nquickly, since I've suffered for so long, far from my loved ones.\"\nHaving said this, he sat down on the hearth in the ashes\nby the fire, and everyone fell totally silent.\nAt last an old hero, Echeneus, spoke up.\nHe was the oldest man among the Phaeacians\nand the best speaker, and he knew many old stories.\nHe meant well and said to them:\n\"Alcinous, this isn't right or proper,\nfor the stranger to sit on the ground in the ashes\nwhile these men wait and hold back, waiting for you to speak.\nCome on — lift the stranger up and seat him on a silver-studded chair,\nand tell the heralds\nto mix wine, so we can pour a drink to Zeus who loves thunder,\nwho watches over respectful beggars.\nAnd let the housekeeper give the stranger dinner from what we have.\"\nWhen noble Alcinous heard this,\nhe took crafty Odysseus by the hand,\nlifted him from the hearth and sat him in a bright chair,\nwaking up his son, the blameless Laodamas,\nwho sat closest to him and was his favorite.\nA maid brought a pitcher and poured water for washing\ninto a silver basin, from a beautiful gold jug,\nso he could wash, and she pulled a polished table up beside him.\nThe honored housekeeper brought bread and set it out,\npiling on lots of food, giving him what they had.\nOdysseus, who had suffered so much, ate and drank.\nThen noble Alcinous spoke to a herald:\n\"Pontonous, mix a bowl and pour the wine\nfor everyone in the hall, so we can pour a drink to Zeus who loves thunder,\nwho watches over respectful beggars.\"\nHe spoke, and Pontonous mixed the sweet honey wine\nand served it out to everyone in cups, after the first offering.\nWhen they had poured their drinks and had as much as they wanted,\nAlcinous spoke to them and said:\n\"Listen, leaders and rulers of the Phaeacians,\nand I'll say what my heart tells me.\nNow that we've eaten, go home and go to bed.\nAt dawn, call more of the elders together,\nand we'll host the stranger in the halls and offer\nfine sacrifices to the gods, and then we'll think\nabout getting him home, so that the stranger, with no trouble or grief,\nwith our escort, can reach his own homeland,\nhappy and quickly, even if it's very far away,\nand so he suffers no harm or trouble on the way\nbefore he sets foot on his own land. After that\nhe'll suffer whatever fate and the heavy Fates\nspun for him with their thread the day his mother bore him.\nBut if one of the gods has come down from heaven,\nthen the gods have something else planned.\nBecause up to now the gods have always shown themselves clearly\nto us, whenever we make fine sacrifices,\nand they sit and feast with us, right where we sit.\nAnd if some traveler meets one walking alone,\nthey don't hide themselves, because we're close to the gods —\nnot like the Cyclopes and the wild tribes of Giants.\nCrafty Odysseus answered him:\n\"Alcinous, don't worry your mind about that — I'm not\nlike the immortal gods who hold the wide sky,\nnot in body or in build. I'm just a mortal man.\nWhoever you know among men who suffers the most misery —\nI could be compared to them in pain.\nI could tell you even worse things,\nall that I've suffered by the will of the gods.\nBut let me eat, sad as I am.\nNothing is more shameless than a hungry belly.\nIt forces a man to think about it, whether he wants to or not,\neven when he's worn out and grieving in his heart.\nThat's how I am: I have grief in my heart, but my belly\nkeeps telling me to eat and drink, and it makes me forget\neverything I've been through, and tells me to fill up.\nYou should get ready when dawn appears,\nso you can put me, poor wretch, back on my homeland,\neven though I've suffered so much. I'd gladly die once I've seen\nmy property, my servants, and my big high-roofed house.\"\nHe spoke, and all of them agreed and told him\nthey'd send the stranger home, since he'd spoken fairly.\nWhen they had poured their drinks and had as much as they wanted,\neach one went off to his own house to sleep.\nBut Odysseus stayed behind in the hall,\nwith Arete beside him and godlike Alcinous.\nThe maids cleared away the remains of the feast.\nWhite-armed Arete was the first to speak to them.\nShe had recognized the cloak and tunic,\nthe beautiful clothes she had made herself with her women.\nShe spoke to him, and her words flew:\n\"Stranger, I'll ask you this first myself:\nwho are you, and where are you from? Who gave you those clothes?\nAren't you the one who got here wandering over the sea?\"\nCrafty Odysseus answered her:\n\"It's hard, my queen, to tell the whole story\nof my troubles, because the gods of heaven gave me many.\nBut this I'll tell you, since you're asking.\nThere's an island called Ogygia, far out in the sea.\nAtlas's daughter lives there, tricky Calypso,\na beautiful woman with a powerful goddess's power, and nobody\nsleeps with her — no god and no mortal man.\nBut some god led me, poor wretch, to her hearth,\nall alone, after Zeus struck my fast ship with a bright lightning bolt\nand smashed it in the middle of the wine-dark sea.\nAll my good crewmen died there,\nand I grabbed the keel of the curved ship in my arms\nand was carried for nine days. On the tenth black night\nthe gods brought me to the island of Ogygia, where Calypso\nof the lovely braids, a powerful goddess, lives. She took me in,\ncared for me kindly, and fed me, and said she'd make me\nimmortal and never aging, forever.\nBut she never convinced my heart.\nI stayed there seven whole years, and I always\nsoaked the immortal clothes Calypso gave me with tears.\nBut when the eighth year came around,\nshe told me to leave — she urged me on,\nbecause Zeus had sent word, or maybe she changed her mind.\nShe sent me off on a well-made raft and gave me lots of things:\nfood and sweet wine, and dressed me in immortal clothes,\nand sent a wind, gentle and harmless.\nI sailed seventeen days across the sea,\nand on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains appeared —\nyour land — and my heart was glad,\npoor wretch that I was, because I still had misery ahead,\na lot of it, which Poseidon the sea god stirred up against me.\nHe hurled winds at me and blocked my path,\nand whipped up a huge sea, and the waves\nwouldn't let my raft float. I groaned in agony.\nThen a storm smashed the raft apart, and I\nswam and cut through the ocean, until wind and water\npushed me up close to your land.\nThere the surf would have finished me as I came ashore,\nslamming me against big rocks in a joyless place.\nBut I pulled back and swam again, until I reached\na river — that looked like the best spot to me,\nsmooth, with no rocks, and shelter from the wind.\nI fell down, got my breath back, and immortal night came on.\nI got out of the river and away from the water,\nand lay down in the bushes, and heaped leaves\nover me, and a god poured endless sleep on me.\nI slept there in the leaves, sick at heart,\nall night, through dawn, and into the middle of the day.\nThe sun went down, and sweet sleep let me go.\nI noticed your daughter's maids on the beach,\nplaying, and she was there among them, looking like a goddess.\nI begged her for help, and she showed good sense —\nthe kind of sense you wouldn't expect from a young person\nmeeting a stranger, since the young are usually careless.\nShe gave me plenty of food and sparkling wine,\nand bathed me in the river and gave me these clothes.\nI've told you the truth, sad as it makes me.\"\nThen Alcinous answered him:\n\"Stranger, my daughter didn't do the right thing\nwhen she didn't bring you home with her maids —\nsince you asked her first for help.\"\nCrafty Odysseus answered him:\n\"Hero, don't blame the innocent girl for that.\nShe did tell me to follow along with her maids,\nbut I didn't want to — I was afraid and ashamed,\nin case you got angry when you saw me.\nWe humans on earth get jealous easily.\"\nThen Alcinous answered him:\n\"Stranger, my heart isn't the kind\nto get angry over nothing. I'd rather do what's proper.\nI wish — father Zeus, Athena, Apollo —\nthat you were just as you are, and thought like me.\nI'd have you marry my daughter and be called my son-in-law,\nstaying right here. I'd give you a house and property,\nif you wanted to stay. But nobody will hold you back against your will —\nnone of the Phaeacians. I hope father Zeus never allows that.\nAnd I'll arrange your escort, so you know for sure,\nfor tomorrow. Then you'll lie asleep, overcome,\nand they'll row over the calm sea until you reach\nyour homeland and house, or wherever you want to be,\neven if it's much farther than Euboea,\nwhich they say is the farthest place away — our people\nsaw it, when they brought golden-haired Rhadamanthys\nto visit Tityus, the son of Earth.\nThey went there and made the trip with no effort\nin a single day, and got home again.\nYou'll find out for yourself how good\nmy ships are, and my young men at rowing the salt sea.\"\nHe spoke, and Odysseus, who had suffered so much, was glad,\nand he prayed out loud:\n\"Father Zeus, may he bring to fulfillment everything he said —\nAlcinous! Then his fame across the grain-giving earth\nwould never die, and I would reach my homeland.\"\nSo the two of them talked like this to each other.\nWhite-armed Arete told the maids\nto set up a bed under the covered porch, and throw on beautiful\npurple blankets, spread rugs on top,\nand put woolen cloaks over them for him to sleep under.\nThe maids went out of the hall carrying torches.\nWhen they had hurried and made the solid bed,\nthey stood next to Odysseus and told him:\n\"Get up, stranger, come to bed — your bed is ready.\"\nThey spoke, and lying down seemed welcome to him.\nSo Odysseus, who had suffered so much, slept there\nin the carved bed under the echoing porch.\nAlcinous slept in a back room of the tall house,\nand his wife the queen lay beside him in the marriage bed.\n\n### Book 8\n\nWhen early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nAlcinous rose from his bed,\nand god-born Odysseus, the sacker of cities, rose too.\nAlcinous led them\nto the Phaeacian assembly place, which had been built beside their ships.\nWhen they arrived they sat down on the polished stones\nclose together. Meanwhile Pallas Athena went through the town,\nlooking like the herald of warlike Alcinous,\nplanning a homecoming for great-hearted Odysseus,\nand she stood beside each man and said:\n\"Come on, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,\ngo to the assembly, so you can learn about the stranger,\nwho just now came to the house of warlike Alcinous,\nwandering over the sea, his body like the deathless gods.\"\nWith these words she stirred the spirit of every man.\nQuickly the meeting places and seats filled with people\ngathering, and many were amazed when they saw\nthe warlike son of Laertes. Athena poured\nmarvelous grace over his head and shoulders\nand made him look taller and broader,\nso that he would be dear to all the Phaeacians\nand fearsome and respected, and would complete the many\ncontests that the Phaeacians tested Odysseus with.\nWhen they had gathered and come together,\nAlcinous spoke to them and said:\n\"Listen, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,\nso I can say what my heart in my chest tells me.\nThis stranger, I don't know who he is, came wandering to my house,\neither from men of the east or of the west,\nand he asks for an escort, and begs that it be dependable.\nLet us, as before, hurry the escort along.\nNo one else either, whoever comes to my house,\nstays here grieving long for the sake of an escort.\nBut come, let us drag a black ship into the shining sea,\none that has never sailed, and let fifty-two young men\nbe picked from the district, the ones who are the best so far.\nWhen all have tied the oars well to the rowlocks,\nlet them go aboard, and then prepare a swift feast,\ncoming to my house, and I will provide well for all.\nThose are my orders for the young men, but the rest of you,\nthe sceptered kings, come to my beautiful house,\nso that we can welcome the stranger in the halls,\nand let no one refuse. Call the divine singer\nDemodocus, for the god gave him song above all others\nto give delight, wherever his heart urges him to sing.\"\nWith these words he led the way, and they followed,\nthe sceptered ones, and the herald went after the divine singer.\nThe young men who were picked, fifty-two of them,\nwent, as he ordered, to the shore of the unharvested sea.\nWhen they had come down to the ship and the sea,\nthey dragged the black ship into the depth of the sea,\nand set the mast and the sails in the black ship,\nand fitted the oars into the leather rowlocks,\nall in proper order, and spread the white sails.\nThey moored her high in the surf, and then afterward\nthey went to the great house of warlike Alcinous.\nThe porticos and courtyards and men's rooms were filled\nwith people gathering, and there were many, young and old.\nAlcinous sacrificed twelve sheep for them,\nand eight white-tusked boars, and two shambling oxen.\nThey skinned them and took care of them, and made a lovely feast.\nThe herald came near leading the trusty singer,\nwhom the Muse loved above others and gave both good and evil:\nshe took away his eyes and gave him sweet song.\nPontonous set a silver-studded chair for him\nin the middle of the feasters, leaning it against a tall pillar,\nand he hung the clear lyre from a peg\nabove his head, and showed him how to take it with his hands,\nthe herald did; and he set beside him a basket and a beautiful table,\nand beside him a cup of wine, to drink whenever his heart told him to.\nThey reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.\nWhen they had put away their desire for drink and food,\nthe Muse stirred the singer to sing of the famous deeds of men,\nof a song whose fame at that time reached the wide heaven:\nthe quarrel of Odysseus and Achilles, son of Peleus,\nhow once they quarreled at a lavish feast of the gods\nwith terrible words, and the lord of men Agamemnon\nrejoiced in his heart that the best of the Achaeans were quarreling.\nFor so Phoebus Apollo had prophesied to him\nin holy Pytho, when he crossed the stone threshold\nto ask the oracle, for then the beginning of trouble was rolling on\nfor Trojans and Danaans through the will of great Zeus.\nThese things the famous singer sang, but Odysseus\ntook his great purple cloak in his sturdy hands\nand pulled it down from his head and covered his beautiful face,\nfor he was ashamed to let the Phaeacians see tears under his brows.\nEach time the divine singer stopped singing,\nhe wiped the tear from his head and took the cloak away\nand picked up the two-handled cup and poured libations to the gods,\nbut each time he began again and the best of the Phaeacians\nurged him to sing, since they were enjoying his words,\nOdysseus covered his head again and groaned.\nThere he went unnoticed by all the others as he shed tears,\nbut Alcinous alone noticed him and understood,\nsitting near him, and he heard him groaning heavily.\nAt once he spoke to the Phaeacians, who love the oar:\n\"Listen, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians.\nWe have already satisfied our hearts with the equal feast\nand with the lyre, which goes with a lavish feast.\nBut now let us go out and try all\nthe contests, so that the stranger can tell his own friends\nwhen he has gotten home how much we surpass others\nin boxing and wrestling and jumping and running.\"\nWith these words he led the way, and they followed.\nHe hung the clear lyre from a peg,\nand the herald took Demodocus by the hand and led him from the hall,\nand he led him along the very same way as the others,\nthe best of the Phaeacians, who were going to watch the contests.\nThey went to the assembly place, and a great crowd followed with them,\ncountless, and many young men stood up, both many and fine.\nUp rose Acroneos and Ocyalus and Elatreus,\nNauteus and Prymneus and Anchialus and Eretmeus,\nPonteus and Proreus, Thoon and Anabesineos,\nand Amphialus, son of Polyneus, son of Tecton,\nand up rose Euryalus too, like man-destroying Ares,\nson of Naubolus, who was the best in looks and build\nof all the Phaeacians after the blameless Laodamas.\nUp stood the three sons of blameless Alcinous,\nLaodamas and Halius and godlike Clytoneus.\nThey first tested themselves at running.\nA course was stretched out for them from the starting line, and all together\nthey flew swiftly, raising dust on the plain,\nand by far the best of them at running was blameless Clytoneus.\nAs far as the distance of a mule's furrow in a fallow field,\nso far he came out ahead of the crowd, and they were left behind.\nThey tested themselves at painful wrestling,\nand here again Euryalus beat all the best.\nIn the jump Amphialus was the most outstanding of all,\nand in the discus again Elatreus was by far the best of all,\nand in boxing again Laodamas, the good son of Alcinous.\nWhen all had delighted their hearts with the contests,\nthe son of Alcinous, Laodamas, said to them:\n\"Come, friends, let us ask the stranger whether he knows\nand has learned any contest. In build at least he is not bad,\nin his thighs and calves and both arms above\nand in his sturdy neck and great strength, and he is not\nlacking in youth either, but he has been broken down by many troubles.\nFor I say nothing is worse than the sea\nfor overwhelming a man, even if he is very strong.\"\nEuryalus answered him and said:\n\"Laodamas, that was a very fitting thing to say.\nGo yourself now and challenge him and make your speech known.\"\nWhen the good son of Alcinous heard this,\nhe went and stood in the middle and spoke to Odysseus:\n\"Come here too, stranger and father, try the contests,\nif you have learned any, for it seems you know contests.\nFor there is no greater glory for a man as long as he lives\nthan what he does with his feet and his hands.\nBut come, try it, and scatter the cares from your heart.\nYour voyage will no longer be far off, but already\nyour ship is drawn down and your companions are ready.\"\nIn answer to him much-devising Odysseus said:\n\"Laodamas, why do you tell me to do these things, mocking me?\nI have cares on my mind rather than contests,\nI who before have suffered very many things and toiled greatly,\nand now in your assembly, longing for my homecoming,\nI sit, begging both the king and all the people.\"\nEuryalus answered him again and rebuked him to his face:\n\"No, stranger, I don't think you are a man who knows\ncontests, the many kinds there are among men,\nbut rather one who, always aboard a many-oared ship,\na leader of sailors, who are traders,\nis mindful of cargo and a watcher of voyages\nand of grasping profits. You do not look like an athlete.\"\nLooking at him from under his brows, much-devising Odysseus said:\n\"Stranger, you have not spoken well. You are like a reckless man.\nThe gods do not give graceful gifts to all\nmen, neither build nor mind nor speaking skill.\nFor one man is weaker in form,\nbut the god crowns his words with beauty, and others\nlook at him with delight, and he speaks firmly\nwith gentle modesty, and he stands out among those gathered,\nand as he walks through the city they look at him as at a god.\nAnother again is like the deathless gods in form,\nbut no grace surrounds his words,\nas your form is conspicuous and not otherwise\ncould even a god make it, but your mind is worthless.\nYou have stirred my heart in my dear chest\nby speaking out of turn. But I am not ignorant of contests,\nas you say, but I think I am among the first\nwhile I trusted in my youth and my hands.\nBut now I am held by misery and pains, for I have endured many things,\npassing through wars of men and painful waves.\nBut even so, having suffered many evils, I will try the contests,\nfor your word bites the heart, and you stirred me by speaking.\"\nHe spoke, and sprang up and took up a discus along with his cloak,\none greater and thicker, much heavier\nthan the one the Phaeacians used to throw among themselves.\nHe whirled it around and sent it from his sturdy hand,\nand the stone boomed, and down to the ground crouched\nthe long-oared Phaeacians, men famous for ships,\nat the stone's cast, and it flew beyond the marks of all,\ngoing swiftly from his hand. Athena set the boundaries,\nlooking in body like a man, and she spoke and called him by name:\n\"Even a blind man, stranger, would tell that mark apart\nby feeling it, since it is not mixed in with the crowd\nbut far out in front. Be confident about this contest,\nno one of the Phaeacians will reach this, or surpass it.\"\nSo she spoke, and much-enduring brilliant Odysseus rejoiced,\nglad that he saw a friendly comrade in the contest.\nThen he spoke more lightly to the Phaeacians:\n\"Now reach this mark, young men. Right after, I think\nI will send another just as far or even farther.\nOf the rest of you, whoever his heart and spirit tells him to,\ncome here and try, since you angered me greatly,\neither in boxing or wrestling or running, I don't begrudge it,\nof all the Phaeacians, except Laodamas himself.\nFor this man is my host. Who would fight with a man who loves him?\nThat man is truly foolish and worthless,\nwhoever brings up a quarrel over contests with his host\nin a foreign land. He ruins all his own chances.\nBut of the others I refuse none and make light of none,\nbut I want to know and to try against them.\nFor I am not bad at all things, among men, in whatever contests there are.\nI know well how to handle a well-polished bow.\nI would be first to hit a man with an arrow in a crowd\nof hostile men, even if very many companions\nstood close by and shot arrows at men.\nPhiloctetes alone surpassed me with the bow\nin the land of the Trojans, when we Achaeans shot with bows.\nOf the others I say I am far better,\nas many mortals as now are on the earth eating grain.\nBut with earlier men I will not want to compete,\nneither with Heracles nor with Eurytus of Oechalia,\nwho used to compete with the deathless gods about bows.\nSo great Eurytus quickly died, and he never reached old age\nin his halls, for Apollo in anger\nkilled him, because he challenged him to shoot with the bow.\nWith the spear I throw as far as no one else with an arrow.\nIn running I fear that one of the Phaeacians\nmay run past me, for I have been terribly worn down\nin many waves, since there was no steady\nsupply on the ship. So my dear limbs are loosened.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all fell silent.\nAlcinous alone answered him and said:\n\"Stranger, since you do not speak without grace among us,\nbut want to show your excellence, which stays with you,\nangry because this man stood beside you in the contest\nand rebuked you, as no mortal would belittle your excellence,\nnot one who knew in his mind how to speak properly.\nBut come now, listen to my word, so that you can also tell\nanother of the heroes, when in your halls\nyou feast beside your wife and your children,\nremembering our excellence, and what things too\nZeus lays on our works continually from our fathers' time.\nFor we are not blameless boxers or wrestlers,\nbut we run swiftly with our feet and are best with ships,\nand always dear to us are the feast and the cithara and dances\nand changes of clothing and warm baths and beds.\nBut come, all you Phaeacians who are the best dancers,\nplay, so that the stranger can tell his own friends\nwhen he has gotten home how much we surpass others\nin seamanship and running and dancing and song.\nLet someone go quickly and bring Demodocus the clear lyre,\nwhich lies somewhere in our house.\"\nSo spoke godlike Alcinous, and the herald rose\nto bring the hollow lyre from the king's house.\nNine chosen stewards all stood up,\npublic officials, who arranged everything well at the contests,\nand they smoothed the dancing floor and widened the good assembly place.\nThe herald came near bringing the clear lyre\nto Demodocus, and he then went to the middle, and around him young men\nin first youth stood, skilled in dancing,\nand they struck the divine dancing floor with their feet. Odysseus\ngazed at the flashing of their feet and marveled in his heart.\nThe singer, playing the lyre, began to sing beautifully\nof the love of Ares and of fair-crowned Aphrodite,\nhow at first they mingled in Hephaestus' house\nin secret, and he gave many gifts, and shamed the bed and the couch\nof lord Hephaestus. Right away a messenger came to him,\nHelios, who noticed them mingling in love.\nHephaestus, when he heard the heart-grieving word,\nwent to his bronze forge, brooding evils in his heart,\nand set a great anvil on the anvil block, and hammered out bonds\nunbreakable, unloosable, so that they would stay fixed right there.\nWhen he had made the snare, angry at Ares,\nhe went to the chamber, where his dear bed stood,\nand around the bedposts he poured bonds in a circle everywhere.\nMany too were spread from above, from the roof beam,\nlike thin spider webs, which no one could even see,\nnot even the blessed gods, for it was made cunningly all around.\nWhen he had poured all the snare around the bed,\nhe pretended to go to Lemnos, the well-built citadel,\nwhich of all lands is far dearest to him.\nGolden-reined Ares did not keep a blind watch either,\nwhen he saw famous-craftsman Hephaestus gone away.\nHe went toward the house of renowned Hephaestus,\neager for the love of fair-crowned Cytherea.\nShe had just come from her father, the mighty son of Cronus,\nand sat down, and he went inside the house,\nand clasped her hand, and spoke and called her by name:\n\"Come, dear one, let us turn to the bed and lie together,\nfor Hephaestus is no longer among his people, but somewhere already\nhe has gone to Lemnos to the wild-voiced Sintians.\"\nSo he spoke, and to her it seemed welcome to lie down.\nThe two went to the bed and lay down, and around them bonds\nartful, made by the cunning Hephaestus, were poured,\nand they could not move any limb or lift it.\nThen indeed they knew that there was no more escape.\nNear them came the renowned lame god,\nturning back again before he reached the land of Lemnos,\nfor Helios kept watch for him and told him the word.\nHe went to his dear house, grieved at heart.\nHe stood in the doorway, and wild anger seized him.\nHe shouted terribly and called out to all the gods:\n\"Father Zeus and other blessed gods who are forever,\ncome here, so you can see works laughable and not to be endured,\nhow Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, because I am lame,\nalways dishonors me and loves destructive Ares,\nbecause he is handsome and sound of foot, but I\nwas born feeble. No one else is to blame for me,\nbut my two parents, whom I wish had not begotten me.\nBut you will see, where the two sleep in love\nhaving gone to my bed, and I am grieved looking on.\nI don't expect them to lie so for even a little while,\nthough they love each other greatly. Soon the two will not want\nto sleep, but the snare and the bond will hold them,\nuntil he pays me back all the bride-gifts,\nas many as I gave him for the sake of the shameless girl,\nbecause his daughter is beautiful, but she is not faithful.\"\nSo he spoke, and the gods gathered at the bronze-floored house.\nCame Poseidon the earth-holder, came the helpful\nHermes, and came the lord, the far-working Apollo.\nBut the female goddesses stayed at home, each from modesty.\nThe gods stood in the doorway, givers of good things,\nand unquenchable laughter arose among the blessed gods\nas they looked at the crafts of the cunning Hephaestus.\nOne would say, looking at another near him:\n\"Evil deeds do not prosper. The slow catches the swift,\nas now Hephaestus, being slow, caught Ares,\nthough he is the swiftest of the gods who hold Olympus,\nbeing lame, by his crafts. So the adulterer pays the penalty.\"\nSo they spoke such things to one another.\nTo Hermes spoke the lord, the son of Zeus, Apollo:\n\"Hermes, son of Zeus, guide, giver of good things,\nwould you then be willing, pressed in strong bonds,\nto sleep in bed beside golden Aphrodite?\"\nThe guide, the slayer of Argus, answered him then:\n\"Would that this might happen, lord Apollo, far-shooter.\nMay three times as many bonds, endless, hold me around,\nand may you gods and all the goddesses look on,\nand may I sleep beside golden Aphrodite.\"\nSo he spoke, and laughter arose among the deathless gods.\nLaughter did not hold Poseidon, and he kept begging\nfamous-craftsman Hephaestus to release Ares.\nSpeaking, he addressed him with winged words:\n\"Release him, and I promise you myself, as you bid,\nhe will pay all that is fitting among the deathless gods.\"\nAgain the renowned lame god answered him:\n\"Do not, Poseidon the earth-holder, tell me these things,\nfor the pledges of the wretched are wretched pledges.\nHow could I bind you among the deathless gods,\nif Ares should go off, escaping his debt and the bond?\"\nAgain Poseidon the earth-shaker answered him:\n\"Hephaestus, if indeed Ares escapes his debt\nand goes off in flight, I myself will pay you this.\"\nAgain the renowned lame god answered him:\n\"It is not possible nor fitting to deny your word.\"\nSo speaking he loosed the bond, the strength of Hephaestus.\nThe two, when they were loosed from the bond, strong as it was,\nstraightaway sprang up, and he went off to Thrace,\nand she reached Cyprus, laughter-loving Aphrodite,\nto Paphos, where she has a precinct and a fragrant altar.\nThere the Graces bathed her and anointed her with oil\nimmortal, such as is upon the gods who are forever,\nand put lovely clothing around her, a wonder to see.\nThese things the famous singer sang, but Odysseus\nwas delighted in his own heart as he listened, and so were the others,\nthe long-oared Phaeacians, men famous for ships.\nAlcinous told Halius and Laodamas\nto dance alone, since no one contended with them.\nWhen they had taken in their hands the beautiful ball,\na purple one, which warlike Polybus had made for them,\none of them would throw it toward the shadowy clouds,\nleaning backward, and the other, springing up from the ground,\nwould easily catch it before his feet reached the floor.\nWhen they had tried the ball in a straight line,\nthen they danced on the much-nourishing earth,\nswiftly changing places, and the other young men cried out\nstanding around the assembly place, and a great din arose.\nThen brilliant Odysseus said to Alcinous:\n\"Lord Alcinous, most conspicuous of all peoples,\nyou declared that your dancers are the best,\nand indeed it has been made ready. Awe holds me as I look on.\"\nSo he spoke, and the sacred strength of Alcinous rejoiced,\nand straightaway he said to the Phaeacians, who love the oar:\n\"Listen, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians.\nThis stranger seems to me to be very prudent.\nBut come, let us give him a guest-gift, as is fitting.\nFor twelve conspicuous kings throughout the district\nrule as leaders, and I myself am the thirteenth.\nOf them let each bring him a well-washed cloak and tunic\nand a talent of precious gold.\nLet us quickly bring everything together, so that in his hands\nthe stranger may have them and go rejoicing in heart to dinner.\nLet Euryalus make amends to him with words\nand with a gift, since he did not speak a word in order.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all approved and ordered it,\nand each sent a herald to bring the gifts.\nAgain Euryalus answered him and said:\n\"Lord Alcinous, most conspicuous of all peoples,\ntherefore I will make amends to the stranger, as you bid.\nI will give him this all-bronze sword, on which the hilt\nis silver, and the scabbard of newly cut ivory\nis fitted around it, and it will be worth much to him.\"\nSo speaking he placed the silver-studded sword in his hands\nand speaking addressed him with winged words:\n\"Hail, father stranger, and if any word has gone\namiss, may the storm winds snatch it away at once.\nMay the gods grant you to see your wife and reach your fatherland,\nsince you have long suffered hardships away from your loved ones.\"\nIn answer to him much-devising Odysseus said:\n\"And you, friend, rejoice greatly, and may the gods give you prosperity.\nMay you never afterward regret this sword,\nwhich you have given me, making amends with words.\"\nHe spoke, and put the silver-studded sword over his shoulders.\nThe sun set, and the glorious gifts were at hand.\nThe noble heralds carried them to Alcinous' house,\nand receiving them the sons of blameless Alcinous\nplaced the very beautiful gifts beside their revered mother.\nThe sacred strength of Alcinous led them,\nand when they had come they sat down on the high seats.\nThen indeed the strength of Alcinous said to Arete:\n\"Come, wife, bring a conspicuous chest, the best there is,\nand put a well-washed cloak and tunic in it yourself.\nWarm a bronze vessel over the fire for him, and heat water,\nso that when he has bathed and seen all the gifts\nlaid out well, which the blameless Phaeacians brought here,\nhe may delight in the feast and hear the hymn of song.\nI will give him this beautiful cup of mine,\ngolden, so that remembering me all his days\nhe may pour libations in his hall to Zeus and the other gods.\"\nSo he spoke, and Arete told the maidservants\nto set a great tripod over the fire as quickly as possible.\nThey set the bath-water tripod in the blazing fire,\nand poured water in it, and taking wood kindled it underneath.\nThe fire surrounded the belly of the tripod, and the water heated,\nmeanwhile Arete brought out for the stranger the very beautiful chest\nfrom the chamber, and placed the beautiful gifts in it,\nclothing and gold, which the Phaeacians had given him,\nand she herself put in it a cloak and a beautiful tunic,\nand speaking addressed him with winged words:\n\"Now look at the lid yourself, and quickly put on the seal,\nlest someone harm you on the way, whenever again\nyou sleep a sweet sleep going in the black ship.\"\nWhen much-enduring brilliant Odysseus heard this,\nhe straightaway fitted the lid, and quickly put on the cunning\nseal, which lady Circe once taught him in her mind.\nAt once the housekeeper told him to bathe,\nentering the bath, and he gladly in his heart saw\nthe warm baths, since he had not often had such care,\nsince he left the house of fair-haired Calypso.\nMeanwhile his care was as steady as a god's.\nWhen the maidservants had bathed him and anointed him with oil,\nand thrown a beautiful cloak and tunic around him,\nhe came out of the bath and went to the wine-drinking men,\nand Nausicaa, who had beauty from the gods,\nstood beside the doorpost of the well-built roof,\nand marveled as she looked at Odysseus with her eyes,\nand speaking addressed him with winged words:\n\"Hail, stranger, so that sometime when you are in your fatherland\nyou may remember me, because you owe me first the price of your life.\"\nIn answer to her much-devising Odysseus said:\n\"Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,\nso may Zeus bring it about, the loud-thundering husband of Hera,\nthat you come home and see the day of your return.\nThen I would pray to you even there as to a god\nalways all my days, for you saved my life, maiden.\"\nHe spoke, and sat down on a seat beside King Alcinous,\nand they were already serving portions and mixing wine.\nThe herald came near leading the trusty singer,\nDemodocus, honored by the people, and he seated him\nin the middle of the feasters, leaning him against a tall pillar.\nThen much-devising Odysseus said to the herald,\ncutting off from the back, and more was left over,\nof a white-tusked boar, and rich fat was around it:\n\"Herald, here, give this meat to Demodocus,\nso that he may eat, and I will greet him though I am grieving,\nfor to all men upon the earth singers\nhave a share of honor and reverence, because the Muse\ntaught them songs, and she loved the tribe of singers.\"\nSo he spoke, and the herald brought it and placed it in his hands,\nto the hero Demodocus, and he received it and rejoiced in his heart.\nThey reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.\nWhen they had put away their desire for drink and food,\nthen much-devising Odysseus said to Demodocus:\n\"Demodocus, above all mortals I praise you exceedingly.\nEither the Muse taught you, child of Zeus, or Apollo,\nfor very much in order you sing the fate of the Achaeans,\nall that they did and suffered and all that the Achaeans toiled,\nas if you had been there yourself or heard from another.\nBut come now, change and sing the fashioning of the horse\nof wood, which Epeius made with Athena,\nwhich brilliant Odysseus once brought to the citadel as a trick,\nfilling it with men who sacked Ilion.\nIf you will recount these things to me in order,\nstraightaway I will tell all men\nthat a god willingly granted you divine song.\"\nSo he spoke, and the singer, starting from the god, began and revealed his song,\ntaking it up from the point where they, on their well-benched ships,\nwent and sailed away, having set fire to their huts,\nthe Argives, and those others with glorious Odysseus\nsat in the Trojans' assembly place, hidden in the horse,\nfor the Trojans themselves had dragged it to the citadel.\nSo it stood there, and they said many undecided things,\nsitting around it, and the counsel pleased them three ways:\neither to cut the hollow wood with pitiless bronze,\nor to drag it up and throw it from the rocks on the height,\nor to let it be a great offering, a charm for the gods,\nin which way indeed it was afterward going to be accomplished,\nfor it was fated that they perish, when the city enclosed\nthe great wooden horse, where all the best\nof the Argives sat, bringing slaughter and death to the Trojans.\nHe sang how the sons of the Achaeans sacked the city,\npouring out from the horse, leaving the hollow ambush.\nHe sang how one man laid waste the steep city here, another there,\nbut Odysseus went to the house of Deiphobus\nlike Ares together with godlike Menelaus.\nThere indeed he said that, having dared the most terrible war,\nhe conquered, and then through great-hearted Athena.\nThese things the famous singer sang, but Odysseus\nmelted, and wet his cheeks with tears beneath his eyelids.\nAs when a woman weeps, falling upon her dear husband,\nwho has fallen before his city and his people,\ndefending his town and children from the pitiless day,\nand she, seeing him dying and gasping,\nfalls upon him and wails shrilly, and others behind her\nstriking her back and shoulders with spears\nlead her into slavery, to have toil and misery,\nand her cheeks waste away with most pitiable grief,\nso Odysseus shed a pitiable tear beneath his brows.\nThere he went unnoticed by all the others as he shed tears,\nbut Alcinous alone noticed him and understood,\nsitting near him, and he heard him groaning heavily.\nAt once he spoke to the Phaeacians, who love the oar:\n\"Listen, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,\nand let Demodocus now hold his clear lyre,\nfor he does not sing these things pleasing to all alike.\nFrom the time we began to dine and the divine singer rose,\nfrom then the stranger has not yet stopped his woeful lamenting.\nSurely grief has greatly surrounded his mind.\nBut come, let him hold it, so that we may all alike be delighted,\nboth hosts and guest, since that is far better,\nfor it has been done for the sake of the revered stranger,\nthe escort and the dear gifts, which we give him in love.\nFor a stranger and a suppliant is like a brother\nto a man who touches his heart even a little.\nTherefore now do not hide in cunning thoughts\nwhatever I may ask you, and it is better for you to speak.\nTell me the name that your mother and father called you there,\nand the others who are in the city and those who dwell around it.\nFor no man at all is nameless among humans,\nneither base nor noble, once he is first born,\nbut parents put a name on all, when they have children.\nAnd tell me your land, your district and your city,\nso that our ships may convey you there, aiming with their minds,\nfor the Phaeacians have no steersmen,\nnor are there any rudders, which other ships have,\nbut the ships themselves know the thoughts and minds of men,\nand they know all the cities and rich fields\nof men, and they cross the gulf of the sea most swiftly\ncovered in mist and cloud, and there is never for them\nany fear of being harmed or perishing.\nBut this, as I once heard my father saying,\nNausithous, who said that Poseidon was angry\nwith us, because we are blameless escorts for all.\nHe said that once a well-built ship of Phaeacian men,\nreturning from an escort in the misty sea,\nwould be struck, and a great mountain would cover our city.\nSo the old man spoke, and the god might either accomplish\nor leave unaccomplished these things, as was dear to his heart.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it accurately,\nwhere you wandered and which lands\nof men you came to, both themselves and their well-inhabited cities,\nboth those who are harsh and savage and not just,\nand those who are hospitable, and whose mind is god-fearing.\nAnd tell me why you weep and lament within your heart\nhearing the fate of the Argive Danaans and of Ilion.\nThe gods made that, and spun destruction\nfor men, so that there might be song even for those to come.\nDid some kinsman of yours also perish before Ilion,\nbeing noble, a son-in-law or father-in-law, who are most\nnear and dear after one's own blood and family?\nOr perhaps some companion, a man knowing gracious things,\nnoble? Since he is in no way worse than a brother,\nwhoever, being a companion, knows prudent things.\n\n### Book 9\n\nThen Odysseus, full of tricks, answered him and said:\n\"Alcinous, lord, most distinguished of all peoples,\nit really is a fine thing to listen to a singer\nlike this one, whose voice is like the gods'.\nFor I say there is no more pleasant end than this:\nwhen joy holds the whole community,\nand the diners throughout the hall listen to the singer\nsitting in a row, while the tables are filled\nwith bread and meat, and the cupbearer draws wine from the bowl\nand carries it around and pours it into the cups.\nThis seems to me the best thing in my mind.\nBut your heart has turned to asking about my painful sorrows,\nso that I may grieve and groan still more.\nSo what shall I tell you first, and what shall I tell you last?\nFor the gods in heaven have given me many sorrows.\nBut now I will first tell my name, so that you too\nmay know it, and then, after escaping the pitiless day,\nI may be a guest to you, though I live in a home far away.\nI am Odysseus, son of Laertes, who is known among all people\nfor every kind of trick, and my fame reaches heaven.\nI live in Ithaca, a land of clear light; and there is a mountain in it,\nNeriton, shaking with leaves, very conspicuous; and around it\nmany islands lie very close to one another,\nDulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus.\nIthaca itself lies low, farthest out in the sea,\ntoward the darkness, while the others lie away toward the dawn and the sun,\na rough land, but a good nurse of men; and I\ncannot see anything sweeter than my own land.\nCalypso, shining among goddesses, certainly kept me there\nin her hollow caves, wanting me to be her husband;\nand in the same way Circe, the scheming one, held me back in her halls,\nin Aeaea, wanting me to be her husband;\nbut they never persuaded the heart in my breast.\nSo nothing is sweeter than a man's own country and his parents,\nnot even if someone lives far away in a rich house\nin a foreign land, far from his parents.\nBut come, I will tell you about my sorrowful journey home,\nwhich Zeus laid on me when I set out from Troy.\nFrom Troy the wind carried me and brought me to the Cicones,\nto Ismarus. There I sacked the city and killed the men;\nand taking the wives and many possessions from the city\nwe divided them, so that no one would go short of an equal share.\nThere I told my men to run away with quick feet,\nbut they were very foolish and did not obey me.\nThere much wine was drunk, and many sheep\nthey killed on the shore, and cattle with a rolling walk and curved horns.\nMeanwhile the Cicones who had gone off called to the other Cicones,\ntheir neighbours, who were more numerous and stronger,\nwho lived on the mainland and knew how to fight men\nfrom horseback, and on foot where fighting on foot was needed.\nThen they came, as many as the leaves and flowers in spring,\nat dawn; and then the evil fate of Zeus stood by us,\nfor us doomed men, so that we would suffer many pains.\nThey formed their ranks and fought a battle by the swift ships,\nand they threw bronze-tipped spears at one another.\nAs long as it was morning and the sacred day grew,\nwe stood our ground and held out against their greater numbers.\nBut when the sun turned toward the time for unyoking oxen,\nthen the Cicones broke and beat the Achaeans.\nAnd from each ship six well-greaved companions\ndied; and the rest of us escaped death and fate.\nFrom there we sailed on, grieving at heart,\nglad to have escaped death, but having lost our dear companions.\nAnd my curved ships did not move on\nbefore we had called out three times to each of the poor men\nwho died, killed on the plain by the Cicones.\nBut Zeus the cloud-gatherer stirred the North Wind against our ships\nwith a terrible squall, and with clouds he covered\nthe earth together with the sea; night rushed down from heaven.\nThen the ships were carried headlong, and the force of the wind\ntore the sails into three and four pieces.\nAnd we lowered them into the ships, afraid of destruction,\nand rowed the ships quickly toward the mainland.\nThere for two nights and two days in a row, constantly,\nwe lay, eating our hearts out with tiredness and pain.\nBut when the third day was ended by fair-haired Dawn,\nwe set up the masts and pulled up the white sails\nand sat down, and the wind and the helmsmen steered the ships.\nAnd I would have come safely to my native land,\nbut the wave and the current, as I rounded Malea,\nand the North Wind drove me back, and I was carried past Cythera.\nFrom there for nine days I was carried by destructive winds\nover the fish-filled sea; but on the tenth we set foot\non the land of the Lotus-eaters, who eat a flowery food.\nThere we went ashore and drew water,\nand my comrades quickly took their meal by the swift ships.\nBut when we had eaten food and drink,\nthen I sent my comrades to go and find out\nwhat men they were who ate bread in that land,\nchoosing two men, and sending a herald along as a third with them.\nThey went quickly and mixed with the Lotus-eating men;\nand the Lotus-eaters did not plan any harm for my comrades,\nbut they gave them the lotus to eat.\nAnd whoever of them ate the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus\nno longer wanted to report back or to come home,\nbut they wanted to stay there among the Lotus-eating men,\nfeeding on the lotus, and to forget their journey home.\nI brought these men to the ships, crying, by force,\nand I dragged them into the hollow ships and tied them under the benches.\nAnd I told the rest of my trusty comrades\nto hurry and get on board the swift ships,\nin case anyone ate the lotus and forgot his journey home.\nThey quickly got on board and sat at the rowing benches,\nand sitting in a row they struck the grey sea with their oars.\nFrom there we sailed on, grieving at heart,\nand we came to the land of the Cyclopes, the arrogant and lawless people,\nwho trust in the immortal gods\nand neither plant any plant with their hands nor plough the earth,\nbut all these things grow unsown and unploughed,\nwheat and barley and vines, which bear\nwine from fine clusters, and the rain of Zeus makes them grow.\nThey have no councils to give advice and no laws,\nbut they live on the peaks of high mountains\nin hollow caves, and each one makes the rules\nfor his children and his wife, and they take no notice of one another.\nThen there is a low island lying just beyond the harbour,\nneither near the land of the Cyclopes nor far from it,\nwooded; and on it countless wild goats have been born;\nfor no path of men keeps them away,\nand no hunters go into it, who through the woods\nsuffer hardship, following the peaks of the mountains.\nIt is not held by flocks or used for ploughing,\nbut all its days it lies unsown and unploughed,\nempty of men, and it feeds bleating goats.\nFor the Cyclopes have no ships with red-painted sides,\nand there are no shipwrights among them, who could build\nwell-benched ships, which could do everything\nby reaching the towns of men, all the many places\nwhere men cross the sea in ships to one another's lands,\nmen who could also have made them a well-built island.\nFor it is not a bad land at all, but would bear everything in season;\nfor in it are meadows along the shores of the grey sea,\nwell-watered and soft; vines would grow there without fail.\nAnd in it there is smooth ploughland; they would always reap a deep crop\nseason after season, since the soil beneath is very rich.\nAnd in it there is a good harbour, where there is no need of a rope,\nnor to throw out anchor stones nor to tie stern-ropes,\nbut to beach the ship and wait for the time until the sailors'\nhearts urge them on and the breezes blow.\nAnd at the head of the harbour bright water flows,\na spring under a cave; and around it black poplars grow.\nThere we sailed in, and some god guided us\nthrough the dark night, and we could not see by the light;\nfor a deep mist lay over the ships, and the moon\ndid not shine from the sky, and it was covered by clouds.\nSo no one saw that island with his eyes,\nand we did not see the long waves rolling toward the shore\nbefore we had beached the well-benched ships.\nAnd when the ships were beached, we lowered all the sails,\nand we ourselves also went out onto the wave-beat shore;\nthere we fell asleep and waited for shining Dawn.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nwe wandered around the island, marvelling at it.\nAnd the nymphs, daughters of Zeus who holds the aegis, roused\nmountain goats, so that my comrades could have dinner.\nStraight away we took curved bows and long-shafted spears\nfrom the ships, and dividing into three groups we\nthrew; and a god soon gave us a satisfying hunt.\nTwelve ships followed me, and to each ship\nnine goats fell by lot; and for me alone they set aside ten.\nSo then for the whole day until the sun went down\nwe sat feasting on endless meat and sweet wine;\nfor the red wine from the ships was not yet gone,\nbut was still there; for we had drawn much into jars\nfrom the Cicones, when we took the sacred citadel.\nAnd we looked at the land of the Cyclopes, who were near,\nand at their smoke and their voices, and at those of their sheep and goats.\nBut when the sun had set and darkness came,\nthen we slept on the wave-beat shore.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen I held an assembly and spoke among them all:\n\"You others now stay here, my trusty comrades;\nbut I, with my own ship and with my own comrades,\nwill go and find out about these men, who they are,\nwhether they are violent and savage and not just,\nor kind to strangers, and have a god-fearing mind.\"\nSo speaking I went aboard the ship, and I ordered my comrades\nto get on board themselves and untie the stern-ropes.\nThey quickly got on board and sat at the rowing benches,\nand sitting in a row they struck the grey sea with their oars.\nBut when we came to that place, it being near,\nthere at the edge we saw a cave close to the sea,\nhigh, roofed over with laurels. There many\nflocks, sheep and goats, used to sleep; and around it a courtyard\nhad been built high with stones set in the ground\nand with long pines and high-crowned oaks.\nThere a monstrous man used to sleep, who alone\npastured his flocks, far away; and he did not go about\namong others, but living apart he knew lawless ways.\nFor he had been made a monstrous wonder, and he did not look like\na man who eats bread, but rather like a wooded peak\nof the high mountains, which appears alone, apart from the others.\nThen I ordered the rest of my trusty comrades\nto stay there by the ship and guard the ship,\nbut I chose twelve of my comrades, the best of them,\nand went; and I had a goatskin of dark wine,\nsweet, which Maron gave me, son of Euanthes,\npriest of Apollo, who protected Ismarus,\nbecause we had sheltered him with his child and his wife\nout of respect; for he lived in a wooded grove\nof Phoebus Apollo. And he gave me splendid gifts:\nhe gave me seven talents of well-worked gold,\nand he gave me a mixing bowl all of silver, and then\nhe drew off wine into twelve jars in all,\nsweet, unmixed, a divine drink; and none\nof his slaves or serving women in the house knew about it,\nbut only he himself and his dear wife and one housekeeper.\nAnd when they drank that honey-sweet red wine,\nhe would fill one cup with water, and twenty measures\nhe would pour in; and a sweet smell from the bowl\nrose up wonderfully; then it was not easy to hold back from it.\nOf this I filled a big goatskin and carried it, and also\nfood in a basket; for at once my proud heart guessed\nthat a man would come upon us, clothed in great strength,\nsavage, one who knew neither justice nor laws.\nQuickly we came to the cave, but we did not find him\ninside, but he was pasturing his flocks on the rich pasture.\nAfter entering the cave, we looked at everything.\nThe baskets were heavy with cheeses, and the pens were crowded\nwith lambs and kids; and each kind was penned\nseparately, the older ones apart, the middle ones apart,\nand the newborn apart. And all the vessels were full of whey,\ncrates and bowls, well made, in which he milked.\nThen at first my comrades begged me with words\nto take some of the cheeses and go back, and then\nquickly to drive the kids and lambs out of the pens\nto the swift ship and sail over the salt water;\nbut I did not obey, and it really would have been far better,\nso that I might see him, and see whether he would give me guest-gifts.\nBut he was not going to be a welcome sight to my comrades.\nThere we lit a fire and made sacrifice, and we ourselves\ntook some of the cheeses and ate, and we waited for him inside,\nsitting, until he came back herding. And he carried a mighty load\nof dry wood, so that he would have it for his supper;\nand throwing it down inside the cave he made a noise.\nAnd we, afraid, rushed away to the inner corner of the cave.\nBut he drove his fat flocks into the wide cave,\nall those he milked; but he left the males outside the door,\nthe rams and the he-goats, outside the deep courtyard.\nThen he lifted and set in place a great door-stone,\na mighty one; not even twenty-two\ngood four-wheeled wagons could have shifted it from the ground;\nso huge a rock he set in the doorway.\nSitting down he milked the sheep and the bleating goats,\nall in the right order, and he put a suckling under each.\nStraight away he curdled half the white milk\nand gathered it into woven baskets and set it down,\nand the other half he put into vessels, so that it would be there\nfor him to take and drink, and be there for his supper.\nBut when he had hurried and finished his work,\nthen he lit a fire and saw us, and asked us:\n\"Strangers, who are you? From where do you sail the watery ways?\nIs it for some business, or do you wander at random,\nlike pirates over the sea, who wander about\nrisking their lives and bringing harm to strangers?\"\nSo he spoke, and our own dear hearts were broken inside us,\nbecause we were afraid of his heavy voice and of the huge man himself.\nBut even so I answered him and spoke in words:\n\"We are Achaeans, driven off course from Troy\nby all sorts of winds over the great gulf of the sea,\nhurrying home, but by another road and other ways\nwe have come; so, I suppose, Zeus wanted it to be planned that way.\nAnd we claim to be the people of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,\nwhose fame is now the greatest under heaven;\nfor he sacked so great a city and destroyed many\npeople. And we, coming to your knees as suppliants,\nhave come, in case you might give us a guest-gift, or otherwise\ngive us a present, which is the custom for strangers.\nBut respect the gods, best of men; we are your suppliants,\nand Zeus is the avenger of suppliants and of strangers,\nthe protector of guests, who attends upon reverend strangers.\"\nSo I spoke, and he answered me at once with a pitiless heart:\n\"You are a fool, stranger, or you have come from far away,\nwho tells me to fear the gods or to avoid them;\nfor the Cyclopes do not care about Zeus who holds the aegis\nnor about the blessed gods, since we are far stronger;\nnor would I, to avoid the hatred of Zeus, spare\neither you or your comrades, unless my heart told me to.\nBut tell me where you moored your well-made ship,\nwhether somewhere at the edge, or near, so that I may know.\"\nSo he spoke, testing me, but I knew too much to be caught out,\nand I answered him again with tricky words:\n\"Poseidon the earth-shaker has broken my ship\nhurling it against the rocks at the borders of your land,\ndriving it onto a headland; and the wind brought it in from the sea;\nbut I with these men here escaped sheer destruction.\"\nSo I spoke, but he answered me nothing with his pitiless heart,\nbut he sprang up and threw his hands at my comrades,\nand snatching two of them he dashed them on the ground like puppies,\nand their brains ran down to the earth and wetted the ground.\nThen he cut them limb from limb and made ready his supper;\nand he ate like a mountain-bred lion, and left nothing behind,\nneither guts nor flesh nor bones with marrow.\nAnd we, crying, held up our hands to Zeus,\nseeing these dreadful deeds, and helplessness held our hearts.\nBut when the Cyclops had filled his great belly\nby eating human flesh and drinking unmixed milk,\nhe lay down inside the cave, stretched out among his flocks.\nThen I planned in my great-hearted spirit\nto go near him, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,\nand to strike him in the chest, where the midriff holds the liver,\nfeeling with my hand; but another thought held me back.\nFor there we too would have died in sheer destruction;\nfor we could not have pushed back with our hands the high\ndoor-stone, the mighty rock which he had set in place.\nSo then, groaning, we waited for shining Dawn.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen he lit a fire and milked his famous flocks,\nall in the right order, and he put a suckling under each.\nBut when he had hurried and finished his work,\nthen he snatched two more of us and made ready his meal.\nAfter eating, he drove his fat flocks out of the cave,\neasily lifting away the great door-stone; and then\nhe put it back, as if he were putting a lid on a quiver.\nWith loud whistling the Cyclops turned his fat flocks toward the mountain;\nbut I was left behind, planning evil in my heart,\nwhether I might somehow take revenge, if Athena would give me glory.\nAnd this plan seemed best to me in my heart.\nFor there lay the Cyclops' great club beside the pen,\ngreen and made of olive wood; he had cut it, so that he could carry it\nonce it had dried. We judged it, looking at it,\nto be as big as the mast of a ship of twenty oars, black,\na broad merchant ship, which crosses the great gulf;\nso long was it, and so thick to look at.\nI stood and cut off about a fathom of it\nand laid it beside my comrades, and told them to smooth it;\nthey made it even; and I stood and sharpened\nthe point, and taking it at once I hardened it in the blazing fire.\nAnd I laid it carefully, hiding it under the dung,\nwhich lay spread through the cave in great heaps;\nand I ordered the others to cast lots by shaking,\nto see who would dare with me to lift the stake\nand grind it in his eye, whenever sweet sleep came upon him.\nAnd the lot fell to those whom I myself would have chosen,\nfour of them, and I chose myself as fifth among them.\nIn the evening he came, herding his fair-fleeced flocks.\nStraight away he drove his fat flocks into the wide cave,\nall of them, and left nothing outside the deep courtyard,\neither because he suspected something, or a god told him to.\nThen he lifted and set in place the great door-stone,\nand sitting down he milked the sheep and the bleating goats,\nall in the right order, and he put a suckling under each.\nBut when he had hurried and finished his work,\nthen he snatched two more of us and made ready his supper.\nAnd then I stood near the Cyclops and spoke to him,\nholding in my hands a cup of dark wine:\n\"Cyclops, here, drink wine, since you have eaten human flesh,\nso that you may know what kind of drink our ship\nwas carrying. And I brought it to you as a drink-offering, in case you would take pity on me\nand send me home; but you are raging beyond all bearing.\nWretch, how could any other man later come to you\namong the many, since you have acted against what is right?\"\nSo I spoke, and he took it and drank it; and he was terribly pleased\nto drink the sweet drink, and he asked me for a second:\n\"Give me more willingly, and tell me your name\nright now, so that I may give you a guest-gift that you will enjoy;\nfor the grain-giving earth bears for the Cyclopes\nwine from fine clusters, and the rain of Zeus makes it grow;\nbut this is a stream of ambrosia and nectar.\"\nSo he spoke, and I gave him the flaming wine again.\nThree times I gave it, carrying it, and three times he drank in his foolishness.\nBut when the wine had gone to the Cyclops' wits,\nthen I spoke to him with honeyed words:\n\"Cyclops, you ask me my famous name, and I\nwill tell you; but you must give me the guest-gift, as you promised.\nNobody is my name; and Nobody is what they call me,\nmy mother and my father and all my other comrades.\"\nSo I spoke, and he answered me at once with a pitiless heart:\n\"Nobody I will eat last, after his comrades,\nand the others first; that will be your guest-gift.\"\nHe spoke, and leaning back he fell on his back, and then\nhe lay there with his thick neck twisted aside, and sleep\nthe all-subduer seized him; and out of his throat poured wine\nand pieces of human flesh; and he belched, heavy with wine.\nAnd then I pushed the stake under a lot of ash,\nuntil it would grow warm; and with words I encouraged\nall my comrades, so that none would shrink back through fear.\nBut when the olive-wood stake was about to catch\nin the fire, green though it was, and glowed terribly,\nthen I brought it near, out of the fire, and around me my comrades\nstood; and a god breathed great courage into us.\nThey took the olive-wood stake, sharp at the point,\nand thrust it into his eye; and I, pressing down from above,\nturned it, as when a man bores a ship's timber\nwith a drill, and others below keep it spinning with a strap\nthey have fastened on both sides, and it runs on without stopping.\nSo we took the fire-sharpened stake in his eye and turned it,\nand the blood flowed all around it, hot as it was.\nAnd the steam singed all his eyelids and his eyebrows,\nas the eyeball burned, and its roots crackled in the fire.\nAs when a smith dips a great axe or an adze\nin cold water, and it hisses loudly,\ntempering it; for that is the strength of iron,\nso his eye hissed around the olive-wood stake.\nAnd he bellowed terribly, and the rock echoed all around,\nand we, afraid, rushed back; but he\npulled the stake out of his eye, all smeared with much blood.\nThen he threw it away from him with his hands, frantic,\nand he shouted loudly to the Cyclopes, who lived\naround him in caves along the windy peaks.\nThey heard his shout and came running from all sides,\nand standing around the cave they asked what was troubling him:\n\"Why, Polyphemus, have you cried out like this in your grief\nthrough the immortal night, and made us sleepless?\nSurely no mortal is driving your flocks away against your will?\nSurely no one is killing you by trickery or by force?\"\nAnd mighty Polyphemus answered them from the cave:\n\"My friends, Nobody is killing me by trickery and not by force.\"\nAnd they answered him and spoke winged words:\n\"If then no one is doing you violence, you being alone,\nthen it is not possible to avoid the sickness sent by great Zeus;\nbut pray to lord Poseidon, your father.\"\nSo they spoke and went away, and my own dear heart laughed,\nat how my name and my blameless cunning had deceived him.\nAnd the Cyclops, groaning and gripped by pangs of pain,\ngroping with his hands took the stone from the doorway\nand sat himself down in the doorway, stretching out his hands,\nin case he might catch someone going out among the sheep;\nfor that is how he thought me to be a fool in his heart.\nBut I planned how it might turn out best,\nwhether I could find for my comrades and for myself\nsome release from death; and I wove all kinds of trickery and cunning\nas if for my very life; for a great evil was at hand.\nAnd this plan seemed best to me in my heart.\nThere were well-fed rams, thick-fleeced,\nbeautiful and large, with wool of violet dark.\nThese I silently tied together with well-twisted withes,\non which the monstrous Cyclops, knowing lawless ways, used to sleep,\ntaking them three at a time; and the middle one carried a man,\nand the other two on either side went along protecting the comrades.\nSo three men were carried by each sheep; but I,\nfor there was a ram, by far the best of all the flocks,\ntaking hold of his back, I curled up beneath his shaggy belly\nand lay there; and with my hands, clutching the wondrous wool,\nI clung on without stopping, twisted in, with a patient heart.\nSo then, groaning, we waited for shining Dawn.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen the male flocks rushed out to the pasture,\nbut the females bleated unmilked around the pens;\nfor their udders were bursting. And the master, tormented\nby cruel pains, touched the backs of all the sheep\nas they stood upright; but the fool did not notice\nthat beneath the woolly sheep his men were tied to their chests.\nLast of the flock the ram came out through the doorway,\nweighed down by his wool and by me, thinking close thoughts.\nAnd mighty Polyphemus touched him and spoke:\n\"Dear ram, why have you come through the cave last of the flock?\nNever before have you come left behind the sheep,\nbut you grazed far ahead first among the tender flowers of grass,\nstriding far, and you were first to reach the streams of rivers,\nand you were first to long to return to the sheepfold\nin the evening; now you are last of all. Surely you are longing for your master's\neye, which a wicked man blinded\nwith his wretched comrades, after his wits were overcome with wine,\nNobody, whom I say has not yet escaped destruction.\nIf only you could think as I do and find a voice\nto tell me where that man is escaping my fury;\nthen his brains would be dashed through the cave, here and there,\nas he is struck, upon the floor, and my heart\nwould be eased of the griefs that worthless Nobody gave me.\"\nSo speaking he sent the ram out from him through the doorway.\nAnd when we had gone a little from the cave and the courtyard,\nfirst I untied myself from under the ram, and I untied my comrades.\nAnd quickly, the sheep with long feet and rich with fat,\nmany of them, we drove them along, turning them about, until we came\nto the ship. And we appeared welcome to our dear comrades,\nwe who had escaped death; but for the others they groaned and wept.\nBut I would not let them, and I nodded to each with my brows,\nto weep, but I ordered them quickly to throw the many\nfair-fleeced sheep into the ship and sail over the salt water.\nThey quickly got on board and sat at the rowing benches,\nand sitting in a row they struck the grey sea with their oars.\nBut when we were as far off as a man's shout carries,\nthen I spoke to the Cyclops with mocking words:\n\"Cyclops, you were not going to eat the comrades of a weak man\nin your hollow cave by your brute force.\nAnd your evil deeds were certainly going to catch up with you,\nwretch, since you did not shrink from eating your guests\nin your own house; therefore Zeus has punished you, and the other gods.\"\nSo I spoke, and he was angered still more in his heart,\nand he broke off the peak of a great mountain and hurled it,\nand it fell in front of the dark-prowed ship,\na little short, and it missed reaching the tip of the steering-oar.\nAnd the sea was stirred up as the rock came down;\nand the back-rushing wave carried it straight for the shore,\na flood from the deep, and forced it to reach the land.\nBut I took in my hands a long pole\nand pushed it off, and urging on my comrades I ordered them\nto fall to the oars, so that we might escape disaster,\nnodding with my head; and they leaned forward and rowed.\nBut when we had gone twice as far over the sea,\nthen I spoke to the Cyclops; and around me my comrades\nheld me back from one side and another with gentle words:\n\"Wretch, why do you want to provoke a savage man,\nwho even now has thrown a missile into the sea and driven the ship\nback to the land, and we thought we had died there.\nAnd if he hears the voice or the speech of any of us,\nhe will smash our heads and the ship's timbers together,\nhurling a jagged rock; for that is how far he throws.\"\nSo they spoke, but they did not persuade my great-hearted spirit,\nbut I answered him again with an angry heart:\n\"Cyclops, if any mortal man\nasks you about the shameful blinding of your eye,\nsay that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, blinded you,\nson of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.\"\nSo I spoke, and he groaned and answered me with words:\n\"Alas, truly the old prophecies have come upon me.\nThere was a prophet here, a man good and great,\nTelemus, son of Eurymus, who was skilled in prophecy\nand grew old among the Cyclopes prophesying;\nhe told me that all these things would come to pass later on,\nthat I would lose my sight at the hands of Odysseus.\nBut I always expected some man great and handsome\nto come here, clothed in great strength;\nbut now a man who is small and worthless and feeble\nhas blinded my eye, after he overcame me with wine.\nBut come here, Odysseus, so that I may set guest-gifts before you,\nand urge the famous earth-shaker to grant you safe passage;\nfor I am his son, and he claims to be my father.\nHe himself, if he wishes, will heal me, and no one else,\nneither of the blessed gods nor of mortal men.\"\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and said:\n\"If only I could strip you of life and of soul\nand send you to the house of Hades,\nas surely as not even the earth-shaker will heal your eye.\"\nSo I spoke, and then he prayed to lord Poseidon,\nstretching his hands up to the starry heaven:\n\"Hear me, Poseidon, earth-holder, dark-haired,\nif truly I am yours, and you claim to be my father,\ngrant that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, may not come home,\nthe son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.\nBut if it is his fate to see his loved ones and to come\nto his well-built house and to his native land,\nmay he come late and in misery, having lost all his comrades,\non a stranger's ship, and may he find troubles in his house.\"\nSo he spoke in prayer, and the dark-haired one heard him.\nBut he lifted a far greater stone again\nand hurled it, swinging it, and put his boundless strength behind it,\nand it fell behind the dark-prowed ship,\na little short, and it missed reaching the tip of the steering-oar.\nAnd the sea was stirred up as the rock came down;\nand the wave carried it forward and forced it to reach the land.\nBut when we came to the island, where the other\nwell-benched ships were waiting together, and around them the comrades\nsat grieving, always waiting for us,\nwhen we came there we beached the ship in the sand,\nand we ourselves also went out onto the wave-beat shore.\nAnd taking the Cyclops' sheep from the hollow ship\nwe divided them, so that no one would go short of an equal share.\nAnd the well-greaved comrades gave the ram to me alone,\nas the flocks were divided, a gift of special honour; and on the shore\nI cut the thigh-bones and burned them for Zeus the dark-clouded, son of Cronos, who rules over all;\nbut he did not pay attention to the offerings,\nbut he pondered how all my well-benched ships\nmight be destroyed, and my trusty comrades.\nSo then for the whole day until the sun went down\nwe sat feasting on endless meat and sweet wine;\nbut when the sun had set and darkness came,\nthen we slept on the wave-beat shore.\nBut when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen I urged on my comrades and ordered them\nto get on board themselves and untie the stern-ropes.\nThey quickly got on board and sat at the rowing benches,\nand sitting in a row they struck the grey sea with their oars.\nFrom there we sailed on, grieving at heart,\nglad to have escaped death, but having lost our dear companions.\n\n### Book 10\n\nWe reached the island of Aeolus, and there lived\nAeolus son of Hippotas, loved by the immortal gods,\non a floating island. All around it ran a wall\nof bronze that could not be broken, and a sheer cliff went up.\nHe had twelve children born in his halls,\nsix daughters and six sons in their prime,\nand he gave his daughters to his sons as wives.\nThey always eat beside their dear father and honored mother,\nand beside them lie countless good things,\nand the house smells of roasting meat, and the courtyard rings\nall day long. At night they sleep beside their respected wives,\non blankets and in beds with cords strung through them.\nWe came to their city and their beautiful halls.\nFor a whole month he welcomed me and asked me about everything:\nabout Troy and the Greek ships and how the Greeks got home.\nAnd I told him everything in order, just as it happened.\nBut when I asked for the road and begged him\nto send me off, he refused nothing and got an escort ready.\nHe gave me a bag made from the hide of a nine-year-old ox\nand tied up inside it the paths of the roaring winds,\nbecause the son of Cronos had made him keeper of the winds,\nable to stop them or stir them up, whichever he wanted.\nHe tied it in the hollow ship with a shining cord,\na silver one, so not even a little wind could leak out.\nHe sent the West Wind blowing for me,\nto carry the ships and us. But he was never going\nto finish that job, because we destroyed ourselves by our own stupidity.\nNine days we sailed the same, nights and days,\nand on the tenth our homeland fields came into sight,\nand being near, we could already see men tending their fires.\nThen sweet sleep came over me, because I was tired,\nsince I always worked the ship's sail-rope myself and never gave it\nto any other of my men, so we would reach home faster.\nBut my men talked among themselves\nand said I was bringing gold and silver home,\npresents from great-hearted Aeolus, son of Hippotas.\nOne of them would say, looking at the man next to him:\n\"Well, look at that! How this man is loved and respected by everyone\nin whatever city or land he comes to.\nHe brings back lots of fine treasures from Troy,\nwar loot, while we, who made the same trip,\ngo home with empty hands.\nAnd now Aeolus gave him these things because he liked him.\nCome on, let's quickly look at what this is,\nhow much gold and silver is inside the bag.\"\nThat is what they said, and my men's bad plan won out.\nThey untied the bag, and all the winds burst out.\nA squall grabbed them and carried them straight out to sea,\ncrying, away from our own country. But I\nwoke up and turned it over in my mind,\nwhether to throw myself off the ship and die in the sea\nor to put up with it in silence and stay alive.\nBut I put up with it and stayed, and wrapping myself up in the ship\nI lay there. The ships were carried by the evil windstorm\nback to the island of Aeolus, and my men groaned.\nThere we went ashore on the mainland and got water,\nand my men quickly ate their meal beside the swift ships.\nAfter we had tasted food and drink,\nthen I took a herald and one of my men\nand went to Aeolus' famous halls. I found him\neating beside his wife and his children.\nWe came into the house and sat on the threshold\nby the doorposts, and they were amazed and asked us:\n\"How did you get back, Odysseus? What evil spirit attacked you?\nWe sent you off with every care, so you would reach\nyour own land and house and whatever you love.\"\nThat is what they said, and I answered, upset in my heart:\n\"My bad men ruined me, and on top of that sleep,\nthat awful sleep. But fix it, friends — you have the power.\"\nThat is what I said, trying to win them with gentle words,\nand they went silent. But their father answered me:\n\"Get off this island fast, you worst of all living men.\nIt is not right for me to help or send on his way\na man who is hated by the blessed gods.\nGet out, since you came here hated by the gods.\"\nWith that he sent me out of his halls, and I groaned heavily.\nFrom there we sailed on, sad at heart.\nThe men's spirit was worn down by the painful rowing,\nbecause of our own stupidity, since no escort showed up anymore.\nSix days we sailed the same, nights and days,\nand on the seventh we came to the steep city of Lamos,\nTelepylus of the Laestrygonians, where one shepherd calls to another\nas he drives his sheep in, and the other driving his out answers him.\nThere a man who never slept could earn two wages,\none for herding cattle, one for pasturing the white sheep,\nbecause the paths of night and day are close together there.\nWhen we came to the famous harbor, with a rock\nrunning sheer all the way around it on both sides,\nand jutting headlands facing each other\nsticking out at the mouth, and the entrance is narrow,\nthere they brought all their well-made ships inside.\nThe ships were tied up inside the hollow harbor,\nclose together, for no wave ever rose in it,\nnot big and not small, but all around it was white calm.\nBut I alone kept my black ship outside,\nright at the edge, tying the ropes to the rock.\nThen I climbed up to a rugged lookout and stood there.\nNo work of cattle or men could be seen there,\nwe only saw smoke leaping up from the land.\nSo I sent men out to go and find out\nwhat kind of men, eaters of bread, lived in that land,\npicking two men, and sending a herald as a third with them.\nThey went ashore and along a smooth road, where wagons\ncarried wood down from the high mountains to the town.\nIn front of the town they met a girl getting water,\nthe daughter of the strong Laestrygonian Antiphates.\nShe had gone down to the beautiful spring,\nArtakia, because that is where they carried water to town.\nThey stood beside her and spoke to her and asked\nwho was king of these people and who he ruled over.\nShe pointed out her father's high-roofed house right away.\nWhen they went into the famous halls, they found the woman\nas tall as a mountain peak, and they were horrified by her.\nShe called famous Antiphates out of the assembly,\nher husband, who planned a horrible death for them.\nHe grabbed one of the men right away and got him ready as a meal.\nThe other two jumped up and ran and got to the ships.\nHe raised a shout through the town, and hearing it\nthe powerful Laestrygonians came running from every direction,\nthousands of them, not like men but like Giants.\nThey threw boulders from the cliffs, big enough to crush a man,\nand at once a horrible racket rose over the ships,\nof men dying and ships being smashed apart,\nand spearing the men like fish they carried them off for a joyless meal.\nWhile they were killing those men inside the deep harbor,\nI pulled my sharp sword from beside my thigh\nand cut the ropes of my dark-prowed ship with it.\nRight away I urged my men on and told them\nto throw themselves on the oars, so we could escape the disaster.\nThey all churned the sea, terrified of dying.\nGladly my ship escaped to the open sea away from the overhanging rocks,\nbut the other ships all died there together.\nFrom there we sailed on, sad at heart,\nglad to be alive, though we had lost our dear friends.\nWe came to the island of Aeaea, where there lived\nCirce of the beautiful hair, a scary goddess who spoke like a human,\nown sister of evil-minded Aeetes.\nBoth were born from Helios who shines on people\nand from the mother Perse, who was a daughter of Ocean.\nThere on the shore we brought the ship in quietly,\ninto a harbor where ships can stay, and some god guided us.\nWe went ashore and for two days and two nights\nwe lay there, eating our hearts out with exhaustion and grief.\nBut when beautiful-haired Dawn brought the third day,\nthen I took my spear and sharp sword\nand went quickly up from the ship to a lookout,\nto see if I could see people's work or hear their voices.\nI climbed up to a rugged lookout and stood there,\nand smoke showed itself to me from the wide-pathed land,\nin Circe's halls, through the thick brush and woods.\nThen I wondered in my mind and heart\nwhether to go and find out, since I had seen the blazing smoke.\nAs I thought about it, this seemed better to me:\nto go first to the swift ship and the shore of the sea\nand give my men their meal, then send them out to find out.\nBut when I was close, coming to the well-made ship,\nthen one of the gods pitied me, all alone there,\nand sent a big stag with tall antlers right into my path\nas it came down from its woodland pasture to the river\nto drink, because the heat of the sun was on it.\nI hit it as it stepped out, on the spine in the middle of its back\nwith my spear, and the bronze drove right through,\nand it fell bellowing in the dust, and its life flew away.\nSetting my foot on it, I pulled the bronze spear out of the wound\nand laid it down there on the ground.\nThen I tore off twigs and willow shoots\nand made a rope a fathom long, twisted tight at both ends,\nand tied together the feet of the dreadful beast,\nand went to the black ship carrying it over my back,\nleaning on my spear, because there was no way on my shoulder\nto carry it with one hand — it was a very big animal.\nI threw it down in front of the ship and woke my men\nwith gentle words, standing beside each man:\n\"Friends, we are not going down yet, even though we are grieving,\ninto the house of Hades, not before our fated day comes.\nCome on, while there is food and drink in the swift ship,\nlet's think about eating and not wear ourselves out with hunger.\"\nThat is what I said, and they quickly obeyed me.\nThey pulled off their cloaks beside the shore of the restless sea\nand stared at the stag, because it was a very big animal.\nWhen they had had enough of looking at it,\nthey washed their hands and made a glorious feast.\nSo then all day long, until the sun went down,\nwe sat feasting on endless meat and sweet wine.\nWhen the sun went down and darkness came,\nthen we lay down to sleep on the edge of the sea.\nWhen early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen I called a meeting and spoke to them all:\n\"Listen to my words, friends, even though you are suffering.\nFriends, we do not know where the darkness is or where the dawn,\nor where the sun that shines on people goes under the earth,\nor where it rises. So let's think fast\nabout whether there is any plan left. I don't think there is.\nI climbed up to a rugged lookout and saw\nan island, with the endless sea ringed around it.\nIt lies low, and in the middle of it\nI saw smoke with my own eyes through the thick brush and woods.\"\nThat is what I said, and their hearts broke\nas they remembered what the Laestrygonian Antiphates had done\nand the violence of great-hearted Cyclops, the man-eater.\nThey cried out loud, pouring out big tears,\nbut there was no profit in their crying.\nSo I split all my well-armed men in two,\ncounting them, and put a leader over each group.\nI led one group, and godlike Eurylochus the other.\nWe shook lots quickly in a bronze helmet,\nand the lot of great-hearted Eurylochus jumped out.\nHe went, and twenty-two men went with him,\ncrying, and they left us behind wailing.\nThey found the well-built house of Circe in a wooded valley,\nmade of polished stone, in a spot you could see all around.\nAround it were mountain wolves and lions,\nwhich she herself had enchanted, because she gave them evil drugs.\nThey did not attack the men, but instead\nthey stood up and wagged their long tails, fawning on them.\nLike when dogs fawn around their master coming home from a feast\n— he always brings them something to please them —\nso the strong-clawed wolves and lions fawned around them.\nThe men were terrified when they saw those awful monsters.\nThey stood in the doorway of the beautiful-haired goddess,\nand inside they heard Circe singing in a lovely voice\nas she walked back and forth at a big immortal loom, the kind of work\ngoddesses do, fine and lovely and shining.\nPolites, a leader of men, spoke first among them,\nand he was the dearest and most trusted of my men:\n\"Friends, someone inside is walking at a big loom\nand singing beautifully, and the whole floor echoes.\nShe is either a goddess or a woman. Let's call out to her quickly.\"\nThat is what he said, and they called out to her.\nShe came out at once and opened the shining doors\nand called them in, and they all followed her in their foolishness,\nbut Eurylochus stayed outside, thinking it was a trap.\nShe brought them in and sat them down on chairs and benches,\nand set before them cheese and barley and pale honey\nmixed in Pramnian wine, and she stirred into the food\nevil drugs, so they would forget their homeland completely.\nWhen she had given it and they drank it, right away then\nshe hit them with her wand and shut them in the pigpens.\nThey had the heads and voices and bristles of pigs\nand pig bodies, but their minds stayed the same as before.\nSo they were locked in there, crying, and Circe\nthrew them acorns and mast and cornel-berry fruit\nto eat, the kind of food pigs that sleep on the ground always eat.\nEurylochus came right away to the swift black ship\nto tell about the men and their bitter fate.\nHe could not say a word, even though he wanted to,\nhis heart hit with terrible grief. His two eyes\nfilled with tears, and his heart was full of mourning.\nBut when we all questioned him in amazement,\nthen he told us how the other men had died:\n\"We went, like you told us, glorious Odysseus, through the woods.\nWe found a well-built house in a wooded valley,\nmade of polished stone, in a spot you could see all around.\nSomeone inside was walking at a big loom and singing clearly,\neither a goddess or a woman, and they called out to her.\nShe came out at once and opened the shining doors\nand called them in, and they all followed her in their foolishness,\nbut I stayed behind, thinking it was a trap.\nThey all vanished together, and not one of them\never came back out. I sat there a long time watching.\"\nThat is what he said. I slung my silver-studded sword\nover my shoulders, a big bronze one, and my bow too,\nand I told him to lead me back the same way.\nBut he grabbed my knees with both hands and begged me,\nand wailing he spoke these winged words:\n\"Don't make me go there against my will, lord raised by Zeus. Leave me here.\nI know you won't come back yourself, and you won't bring\nany of your other men back either. Let's run away fast with the men here,\nbecause we could still escape the evil day.\"\nThat is what he said, and I answered him:\n\"Eurylochus, you stay right here in this place,\neating and drinking beside the hollow black ship,\nbut I am going. A strong force is pushing me.\"\nWith that, I went up from the ship and the sea.\nBut when, as I went through the sacred valleys, I was about\nto reach the great house of Circe, the one with many drugs,\nHermes of the golden wand met me there\nas I walked toward the house, looking like a young man\nwith his first beard, the age when youth is most graceful.\nHe took my hand and spoke to me and used my name:\n\"Where are you going now, poor man, alone over the hills,\nwhen you do not know this place? Your men are here in Circe's house,\npenned up like pigs in tight pens.\nAre you coming to set them free? I tell you,\nyou will not get back yourself. You will stay where the others are.\nCome on then, I will free you from these troubles and save you.\nHere, take this good drug and go to Circe's halls,\nGo on, with this to keep the evil day away from your head.\nI will tell you all the deadly tricks of Circe.\nShe will make you a potion and put drugs in your food.\nBut even so she will not be able to enchant you, for it will not let her,\nthe good drug that I will give you; and I will tell you each thing.\nWhen Circe strikes at you with her long staff,\nthen draw the sharp sword from beside your thigh\nand rush at Circe, as if you meant to kill her.\nShe, frightened of you, will ask you to lie with her.\nThen do not refuse the bed of the goddess after that,\nso that she may free your men and take care of you yourself.\nBut make her swear the great oath of the blessed gods\nthat she will not plan any other evil harm against you,\nand will not make you weak and unmanned when you are stripped.\nSo he spoke, and the slayer of Argus gave me the drug,\npulling it out of the ground, and he showed me what it was like.\nIts root was black, and its flower was like milk.\nThe gods call it moly; it is hard for mortal men\nto dig it up, but the gods can do all things.\nThen Hermes went off toward tall Olympus\nacross the wooded island, and I went to Circe's halls,\nand my heart churned with many thoughts as I went.\nI stood at the doors of the goddess with the lovely hair.\nI stood there and shouted, and the goddess heard my voice.\nShe came out at once and opened the shining doors\nand called me in. I followed her, grieving in my heart.\nShe brought me in and sat me in a chair studded with silver,\na beautiful chair, finely made, and there was a footstool under my feet.\nShe made me a potion in a golden cup for me to drink,\nand she put a drug in it, thinking evil in her heart.\nBut when she gave it and I drank it, she did not enchant me.\nShe struck me with her staff and spoke and used my name:\n\"Go now to the pigsty and lie down with your other men.\"\nSo she spoke, and I drew the sharp sword from beside my thigh\nand rushed at Circe as if I meant to kill her.\nShe screamed out loud and ducked away and grabbed my knees,\nand with lamenting she spoke winged words to me:\n\"Who are you among men, and where are you from? Where are your city and your parents?\nI am amazed that you drank these drugs and were not enchanted,\nfor no other man has ever stood up to these drugs,\nwhoever drinks them and lets them pass the fence of his teeth.\nBut in your breast there is a mind that cannot be charmed.\nYou must be Odysseus of many turns, whom the golden-wanded\nslayer of Argus always used to say would come to me,\ncoming back from Troy with his swift black ship.\nCome then, put your sword in its sheath, and then let the two of us\ngo up to my bed, so that joined together\nin bed and in love we may trust each other.\"\nSo she spoke, and I answered her and said:\n\"Circe, how can you tell me to be gentle with you,\nwhen you turned my men into pigs in your halls,\nand now you keep me here and with deceit in your mind you tell me\nto go into your room and get into your bed,\nso that when I am stripped you can make me weak and unmanned.\nI would not be willing to get into your bed,\nunless you would dare, goddess, to swear a great oath to me\nthat you will not plan any other evil harm against me.\"\nSo I spoke, and she swore at once, just as I asked.\nWhen she had sworn and finished the oath,\nthen I went up into the very beautiful bed of Circe.\nMeanwhile her four serving women were busy in the halls,\nwho do the work throughout her house.\nThey are born from springs and from groves\nand from sacred rivers that flow down to the sea.\nOne of them threw fine covers over the chairs,\npurple ones on top, and underneath she spread linen cloth.\nAnother set silver tables out in front of the chairs,\nand on them she put golden baskets.\nA third mixed honey-sweet wine in a bowl,\nsweet wine in a silver bowl, and handed out golden cups.\nA fourth carried water and kindled a big fire\nunder a large tripod, and the water got warm.\nWhen the water boiled in the gleaming copper,\nshe sat me in a bath and poured from the big tripod\nover my head and shoulders, mixing it to my liking,\nuntil she took the heart-destroying tiredness from my limbs.\nWhen she had bathed me and rubbed me well with oil,\nshe threw a fine cloak and a tunic around me\nand brought me in and sat me in a chair studded with silver,\na beautiful chair, finely made, and there was a footstool under my feet.\nA serving woman brought a pitcher and poured water for my hands\nfrom a fine golden pitcher into a silver basin,\nfor me to wash, and she set a polished table beside me.\nThe honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,\nputting out a lot of food, giving freely of what she had.\nShe told me to eat, but my heart was not pleased.\nInstead I sat there with my mind elsewhere, and my heart saw evil coming.\nWhen Circe noticed that I was sitting there and not\nputting my hands to the food, and that strong grief held me,\nshe came close and stood beside me and spoke winged words:\n\"Why, Odysseus, do you sit like that, just like a man with no voice,\neating your own heart, and you do not touch food or drink?\nDo you think there is some other trick? You have no need\nto be afraid, for I have already sworn a strong oath to you.\"\nSo she spoke, and I answered her and said:\n\"Circe, what man who was decent\nwould dare to taste food or drink\nbefore he had freed his men and seen them with his own eyes?\nBut if you really tell me to drink and eat willingly,\nfree them, so that I can see my trusted men with my eyes.\"\nSo I spoke, and Circe had gone through the hall\nholding the staff in her hand, and she opened the doors of the pigsty\nand drove them out, looking like nine-year-old boars.\nThen they stood in front of her, and she went along among them\nand smeared each one with a different drug.\nThe hair fell off their limbs, the hair that the destructive drug\nhad grown on them before, the drug that the lady Circe gave them.\nThey turned back into men, younger than they had been before,\nand much better looking and taller to see.\nThey knew me, and each one clung to my hands.\nA lovely weeping came over all of them, and the house\nrang terribly around them, and the goddess herself pitied them.\nShe came close and stood by me, the shining goddess, and said:\n\"Son of Laertes, born of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices,\ngo now to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.\nFirst of all, drag the ship up onto land,\nand put your goods and all your gear in the caves.\nThen come back yourself and bring your trusted men.\"\nSo she spoke, and my proud heart obeyed her,\nand I went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.\nThen I found my trusted men at the swift ship\nlamenting piteously and shedding abundant tears.\nAs when calves in the field come around the herd of cows\nthat have come into the yard, once they are full of grass,\nthey all skip together to meet them, and the pens no longer\nhold them, but they run around their mothers\nwith shrill lowing; so those men, when they saw me with their eyes,\npoured around me in tears, and their hearts felt\nit was as if they had reached their homeland and the very city\nof rugged Ithaca, where they were raised and born.\nAnd with lamenting they spoke winged words to me:\n\"At your return, Zeus-nourished one, we rejoiced\nas if we had come to our homeland, the land of Ithaca.\nBut come, tell us of the destruction of the other men.\"\nSo they spoke, and I answered them with gentle words:\n\"Let us first of all drag the ship up onto land,\nand put our goods and all our gear in the caves.\nThen all of you get moving and follow along with me,\nso that you can see your men in the sacred halls of Circe\ndrinking and eating, for they have plenty.\"\nSo I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words.\nBut Eurylochus alone held back all the men.\nHe spoke and said to them winged words:\n\"You poor fools, where are we going? Why do you want these evils,\nto go down into Circe's hall, who will turn you all\ninto pigs or wolves or lions,\nso that we have to guard her great house by force,\njust as the Cyclops did, when our men\ncame into his farmyard, and bold Odysseus went along with them.\nThose men too died because of his recklessness.\"\nSo he spoke, and I thought it over in my heart,\nwhether to draw the long-edged sword from beside my thick thigh\nand cut off his head and bring it to the ground,\neven though he was a close relative by marriage. But my men\nheld me back from different sides with gentle words:\n\"Zeus-born one, let this man stay behind, if you say so,\nhere beside the ship, to guard the ship.\nBut lead us to the sacred halls of Circe.\"\nSo they spoke, and we went up from the ship and the sea.\nNor was Eurylochus left behind beside the hollow ship,\nbut he followed, because he feared my terrible rebuke.\nMeanwhile Circe had kindly bathed the other men in her halls\nand rubbed them well with oil,\nand thrown thick cloaks and tunics around them.\nWe found them all feasting well in the halls.\nWhen they saw each other face to face and recognized each other,\nthey cried and lamented, and the house groaned around them.\nShe came close and stood by me, the shining goddess, and said:\n\"Stop raising this abundant weeping now. I myself know\nall the pains you suffered on the fish-filled sea,\nand all the harm lawless men did you on land.\nBut come, eat your food and drink your wine,\nuntil you get your spirit back in your chests,\nthe kind you had when you first left your homeland,\nrugged Ithaca. But now you are worn out and spiritless,\nalways remembering your hard wandering, and your hearts\nare never in gladness, because you have suffered so much.\"\nSo she spoke, and our proud hearts obeyed her.\nThere we sat all our days for a full year,\nfeasting on countless meats and sweet wine.\nBut when the year had passed and the seasons turned\nas the months waned, and the long days were finished,\nthen my trusted men called me out and said:\n\"Strange man, remember your native land now,\nif it is fated that you be saved and reach\nyour high-roofed house and your own native land.\"\nSo they spoke, and my proud heart obeyed.\nSo then the whole day long until the setting sun\nwe sat there, feasting on countless meats and sweet wine.\nWhen the sun had set and darkness came on,\nthey lay down to sleep through the shadowy halls.\nBut I went up into the very beautiful bed of Circe\nand clasped her knees in prayer, and the goddess heard my voice.\nI spoke and said to her winged words:\n\"Circe, keep the promise you made to me,\nto send me home. My heart is eager now,\nand so are the hearts of the others, who are wasting my dear heart\nwith their lamenting around me, whenever you are away.\"\nSo I spoke, and she answered at once, the shining goddess:\n\"Son of Laertes, born of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices,\ndo not stay in my house against your will any longer.\nBut first you must complete another journey and reach\nthe halls of Hades and of dread Persephone,\nto consult the spirit of the Theban Teiresias,\nthe blind seer, whose mind is still steady.\nTo him alone, even though he is dead, Persephone gave understanding,\nthat he alone be wise, while the others flit about as shadows.\"\nSo she spoke, and my dear heart broke inside me.\nI sat on the bed and cried, and my heart\nno longer wanted to live and see the light of the sun.\nWhen I had had enough of crying and rolling around,\nthen I answered her and said:\n\"Circe, who will guide me on this journey?\nNo one has ever reached the house of Hades in a black ship.\"\nSo I spoke, and she answered at once, the shining goddess:\n\"Son of Laertes, born of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices,\ndo not let any longing for a guide trouble you beside the ship.\nSet up your mast and spread your white sails\nand sit still. The breath of the North Wind will carry it.\nBut when you have crossed the Ocean with your ship,\nthere is a low shore and the groves of Persephone,\nand tall black poplars and willows that lose their fruit.\nBeach your ship there on the deep-eddying Ocean,\nand go yourself into the dank house of Hades.\nThere the Pyriphlegethon and the Cocytus flow into the Acheron,\nand it is a branch of the water of Styx,\nand there is a rock and the meeting place of the two roaring rivers.\nThere then, hero, drawing near, just as I tell you,\ndig a pit about a cubit long each way,\nand pour a libation around it for all the dead,\nfirst with honey-mixed milk, then with sweet wine,\nand the third with water. Sprinkle white barley on it.\nPray many times to the strengthless heads of the dead,\npromising that when you come to Ithaca you will sacrifice a barren cow, the best one,\nin your halls and fill a pyre with good things,\nand to Teiresias alone, apart, sacrifice a sheep,\nall black, one that stands out among your flocks.\nWhen you have begged the glorious tribes of the dead with prayers,\nthen sacrifice a ram and a black ewe,\nturning them toward Erebus, and turn away yourself,\nlooking toward the streams of the river. Then many\nsouls of the dead, of those who have died, will come.\nThen urge your men and tell them\nto take the sheep that lie there, slaughtered by the pitiless bronze,\nflay them and burn them, and pray to the gods,\nto mighty Hades and to dread Persephone.\nBut you yourself, drawing the sharp sword from beside your thigh,\nsit still, and do not let the strengthless heads of the dead\ncome near the blood, before you have heard Teiresias.\nThere the seer will come to you at once, leader of the people,\nand he will tell you the way and the measures of the journey,\nand your return, how you will come over the fish-filled sea.\"\nSo she spoke, and golden-throned Dawn came at once.\nShe dressed me in a cloak and a tunic.\nThe nymph herself put on a great silver-shining robe,\nfine and lovely, and she tied a belt around her waist,\na beautiful golden one, and set a veil on her head.\nBut I went through the halls and roused my men\nwith gentle words, standing beside each man:\n\"Do not lie there sleeping and enjoying sweet sleep any longer,\nbut let us go, for the lady Circe has told me what to do.\"\nSo I spoke, and their proud hearts obeyed.\nBut not even from there did I lead my men away unharmed.\nThere was a certain Elpenor, the youngest, not very\nstrong in war and not firm in his wits,\nwho, away from his men in the sacred halls of Circe,\nlonging for the cool air, had lain down heavy with wine.\nWhen he heard the noise and tramp of the men moving,\nhe jumped up suddenly and forgot in his mind\nto go back down by the long ladder,\nbut fell straight down from the roof, and his neck\nwas broken from his backbone, and his soul went down to Hades.\nAs they came, I spoke a word among them:\n\"You think, I suppose, that you are going home to your dear native land,\nbut Circe has marked out another journey for us,\nto the halls of Hades and of dread Persephone,\nto consult the spirit of the Theban Teiresias.\"\nSo I spoke, and their dear hearts broke inside them,\nand they sat down right there and wailed and tore their hair.\nBut no profit came from their crying.\nBut when we were going to the swift ship and the shore of the sea,\ngrieving and shedding abundant tears,\nmeanwhile Circe had gone and tethered beside the black ship\na ram and a black ewe,\npassing by lightly. Who could see a god with his eyes\ngoing here or there, if the god does not wish it?\n\n### Book 11\n\nBut when we had gone down to the ship and the sea,\nwe first dragged the ship into the bright salt water,\nand set the mast in it and the sails in the black ship,\nand we took the sheep and put them on board, and we ourselves\nclimbed aboard too, grieving, shedding a thick tear.\nAnd behind us, for the ship with the dark-blue prow,\nshe sent a following wind that filled the sails, a good companion,\nCirce of the lovely braids, a dread goddess with a human voice.\nAnd we, after making fast each rope throughout the ship,\nsat down; and the wind and the helmsman steered her.\nAll day long her sails were stretched as she traveled the sea,\nand the sun went down and all the pathways grew shadowy.\nAnd she came to the limits of deep-flowing Ocean.\nThere is the land and the city of the Cimmerian men,\nwrapped in mist and cloud; never on them\ndoes the shining sun look with his rays,\nneither when he climbs up into the starry sky,\nnor when he turns back again from the sky toward the earth,\nbut deadly night is spread out over those wretched mortals.\nWhen we came there we beached the ship, and out we\ntook the sheep; and we ourselves again beside the stream of Ocean\nwent on, until we came to the place that Circe had shown.\nThere Perimedes and Eurylochus held\nthe victims; and I, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,\ndug a pit a cubit long this way and that,\nand around it I poured a drink-offering to all the dead,\nfirst with honeyed milk, then afterwards with sweet wine,\nand the third time with water; and I sprinkled white barley over it.\nAnd I begged many times the strengthless heads of the dead,\npromising that when I reached Ithaca I would sacrifice a barren cow, the best one,\nin my halls, and fill a pyre with good things,\nand to Tiresias, apart from the others, sacrifice a sheep, to him alone,\nall black, one that stands out among my flocks.\nBut when with vows and prayers I had begged the tribes of the dead,\nI took the sheep and cut their throats\nover the pit, and the dark-clouded blood flowed; and there gathered\nthe souls of the dead who had died, up from Erebus.\nBrides and unmarried young men and much-enduring old men,\nand tender young girls with hearts of fresh grief,\nand many wounded by bronze-tipped spears,\nmen killed in war, wearing blood-stained armor;\nthese swarmed in crowds around the pit, one from one side, one from another,\nwith a wondrous cry; and pale fear seized me.\nThen I urged on my comrades and told them\nto flay the sheep that lay there killed by the pitiless bronze,\nand to burn them, and to pray to the gods,\nto mighty Hades and to dread Persephone;\nand I myself, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,\nsat still, and I did not let the strengthless heads of the dead\ncome closer to the blood, before I had asked Tiresias.\nFirst came the soul of my comrade Elpenor;\nfor he had not yet been buried under the wide-pathed earth;\nfor we had left his body in Circe's hall,\nunwept and unburied, since another task was pressing us.\nI wept when I saw him and I pitied him in my heart,\nand speaking to him I addressed him with winged words:\nElpenor, how did you come down under the misty darkness?\nDid you come on foot faster than I did with the black ship?\nSo I spoke, and he groaned and answered me with a word:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,\nthe evil fate of a god ruined me, and the endless wine.\nFor I lay down in Circe's hall and did not think\nto go back down by the long ladder,\nbut I fell straight down from the roof; and my neck\nwas broken off at the spine, and my soul went down to the house of Hades.\nNow I beg you by those left behind, who are not here,\nby your wife and your father, who raised you when you were small,\nand by Telemachus, whom you left alone in the halls;\nfor I know that when you go from here, out of the house of Hades,\nyou will bring your well-built ship to the island of Aeaea;\nthere, then, my lord, I ask you to remember me.\nDo not leave me unwept and unburied when you go away,\nafter you have left, in case I become some cause of the gods' anger,\nbut burn me with my armor, all that I have,\nand heap up a mound for me on the shore of the gray sea,\nof an unhappy man, to be known to men who come later.\nDo this for me, and fix an oar on the tomb,\nthe oar with which I rowed while alive among my comrades.\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and said:\nAll this, unhappy man, I will carry out and do.\nSo we two sat exchanging hateful words,\nI on one side holding the sword over the blood,\nand on the other side the phantom of my comrade said many things.\nThen came the soul of my mother, who had died,\nAnticleia, daughter of great-hearted Autolycus,\nwhom I left alive when I set out for holy Ilium.\nI wept when I saw her and I pitied her in my heart,\nbut even so I did not let her, though I grieved heavily,\ncome closer to the blood, before I had learned from Tiresias.\nThen came the soul of the Theban Tiresias,\nholding a golden staff, and he recognized me and spoke:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,\nwhy now, unhappy man, having left the light of the sun,\nhave you come, to see the dead and this joyless place?\nBut draw back from the pit, and hold off your sharp sword,\nso that I can drink the blood and tell you the truth.\nSo he spoke, and I drew back and thrust the silver-studded sword\ninto its sheath. And when he had drunk the dark blood,\nthen indeed the blameless prophet spoke to me with words:\nYou are seeking your honey-sweet homecoming, glorious Odysseus;\na god will make it hard for you; for I do not think\nyou will escape the Earthshaker, who has put anger in his heart\nagainst you, angry because you blinded his dear son.\nBut even so you might still get home, though suffering evils,\nif you are willing to hold back your own spirit and your comrades',\nwhen you first bring your well-built ship\nto the island Thrinacia, fleeing over the violet-dark sea,\nand find grazing cattle and sturdy flocks\nof Helios, who watches all things and hears all things.\nIf you leave them unharmed and think about your homecoming,\nyou may still reach Ithaca, though suffering evils;\nbut if you harm them, then I foretell destruction\nfor your ship and your comrades. And if you yourself escape,\nyou will get home late and badly, having lost all your comrades,\non a stranger's ship; and you will find troubles in your house,\noverbearing men, who devour your livelihood,\ncourting your godlike wife and offering bridal gifts.\nBut you will certainly take revenge on their violence when you come.\nAnd when you have killed the suitors in your halls,\neither by trickery or openly with the sharp bronze,\nthen go, taking up a well-fitted oar,\nuntil you come to men who do not know the sea,\nmen who do not eat food mixed with salt,\nand who do not know ships with crimson cheeks,\nnor well-fitted oars, which are wings to ships.\nAnd I will tell you a sign, very clear, and it will not escape you:\nwhen another traveler meeting you\nsays that you have a winnowing-fan on your shining shoulder,\nthen plant your well-fitted oar in the ground,\nand make fair sacrifices to lord Poseidon,\na ram, a bull, and a boar that mounts the sows,\nand go back home and perform holy hecatombs\nto the immortal gods who hold the broad sky,\nall of them in due order. And death will come to you from the sea,\na very gentle one, such as will kill you\nworn out by sleek old age; and around you the people\nwill be blessed. And these things I tell you truly.\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and said:\nTiresias, the gods themselves have surely spun all this.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it exactly:\nI see here the soul of my mother, who has died;\nshe sits in silence near the blood, and she has not dared\nto look at her own son face to face or to speak to him.\nTell me, lord, how can she recognize me for what I am?\nSo I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:\nEasy is the word I will speak, and I will put it in your mind.\nWhichever one of the dead you allow\nto come closer to the blood, that one will tell you the truth;\nbut whomever you refuse it to, that one will go back again.\nSo speaking, the soul of lord Tiresias went into the house of Hades,\nwhen he had spoken his oracles;\nbut I stayed there and held my ground, until my mother\ncame and drank the dark-clouded blood; and at once she knew me,\nand in grief she spoke to me with winged words:\nMy child, how have you come down under the misty darkness\nwhile still alive? It is hard for the living to look on these things.\nFor in between are great rivers and dread streams,\nOcean first of all, which no one can cross\non foot, unless he has a well-built ship.\nHave you come here wandering from Troy\nwith ship and comrades for a long time? Have you not yet come\nto Ithaca, nor seen your wife in your halls?\nSo she spoke, and I answered her and said:\nMy mother, a need brought me down to the house of Hades,\nto consult the soul of the Theban Tiresias;\nfor I have not yet come near Achaea, nor have I yet\nset foot on my own land, but I wander always in misery,\never since I first followed shining Agamemnon\nto Ilium of good horses, to fight the Trojans.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it exactly:\nwhat fate of long-drawn death subdued you?\nWas it a lingering sickness, or did Artemis the arrow-pourer\ncome on you with her gentle arrows and kill you?\nAnd tell me about my father and the son I left behind,\nwhether my honor still lies with them, or some other man\nalready holds it, and they say I will not come home.\nAnd tell me the plan and the mind of my wife who is being courted,\nwhether she stays beside my son and keeps everything steady,\nor has already married whichever of the Achaeans is best.\nSo I spoke, and my revered mother answered straightway:\nIndeed that woman stays with an enduring heart\nin your halls; and her wretched nights and days\nalways waste away as she sheds tears.\nNo one yet holds your fair honor, but at his ease\nTelemachus farms the land and feasts at equal banquets,\nsuch as it is fitting for a man who gives judgments to enjoy;\nfor all men invite him. But your father stays there\nin the country, and does not come down to the city. Nor does he have\na bed, blankets, and shining rugs,\nbut in winter he sleeps where the servants sleep in the house,\nin the dust close to the fire, and he wears sorry clothing on his body;\nbut when summer comes and the rich harvest-time,\neverywhere along the slope of his vineyard ground\nlow beds of fallen leaves are spread for him.\nThere he lies grieving, and he greatly increases the sorrow in his heart,\nlonging for your return, and hard old age comes on him.\nSo I too perished and met my fate;\nneither did the keen-sighted arrow-pourer come on me in my halls\nwith her gentle arrows and kill me,\nnor did any sickness come on me, the kind that most of all\ntakes the spirit from the limbs with hateful wasting;\nbut my longing for you and your plans, glorious Odysseus,\nand your gentle kindness took away my honey-sweet spirit.\nSo she spoke, and I wanted in my heart, as I thought it over,\nto take the soul of my dead mother in my arms.\nThree times I sprang toward her, and my heart urged me to hold her,\nand three times she flew from my hands like a shadow or a dream.\nAnd sharp grief grew in my heart all the more,\nand speaking to her I addressed her with winged words:\nMy mother, why will you not wait for me, when I long to hold you,\nso that both of us, throwing our arms around each other,\nmay take our joy in chilling lamentation in the house of Hades?\nOr is this phantom sent by the glorious Persephone,\nso that I may groan and mourn the more?\nSo I spoke, and my revered mother answered straightway:\nAh me, my child, most wretched of all mortals,\nPersephone, the daughter of Zeus, is not deceiving you,\nbut this is the custom of mortals, whenever one dies;\nfor the sinews no longer hold flesh and bones together,\nbut the strong might of blazing fire subdues them,\nas soon as the spirit first leaves the white bones,\nand the soul, like a dream, flies off and flutters away.\nBut long for the light of day as fast as you can; and know all this,\nso that you may tell it to your wife later on.\nSo we two exchanged words with each other, and the women came,\nfor the glorious Persephone urged them on,\nall who were the wives and daughters of chieftains.\nAnd they gathered in a crowd around the dark blood,\nand I considered how I might question each one.\nAnd this plan seemed best to my heart:\ndrawing my long-edged sword from beside my thick thigh,\nI did not let them all drink the dark blood together.\nAnd they came forward in order, and each one\ndeclared her lineage; and I questioned them all.\nThere first I saw Tyro of the goodly father,\nwho said she was the offspring of blameless Salmoneus,\nand said she was the wife of Cretheus, son of Aeolus;\nshe loved the divine river Enipeus,\nwhich flows over the earth the fairest of all rivers,\nand she used to roam along the fair streams of Enipeus.\nAnd the Earthholder, the Earthshaker, making himself look like him,\nlay beside her at the mouth of the whirling river;\nand a purple wave stood around them, like a mountain,\narching over, and it hid the god and the mortal woman.\nHe untied her maiden girdle and poured sleep over her.\nAnd when the god had finished the works of love,\nhe clasped her hand and spoke a word and called her by name:\nRejoice, woman, in this loving; and when the year comes round,\nyou will bear glorious children, since the beds of the immortals\nare not unfruitful; but you must care for them and raise them.\nBut now go to your house, and keep silent and do not name me;\nfor I am Poseidon, the Earthshaker.\nSo saying, he plunged beneath the surging sea.\nAnd she, conceiving, bore Pelias and Neleus,\nwho became mighty servants of great Zeus,\nboth of them; Pelias lived in spacious Iolcus,\nrich in flocks, and the other in sandy Pylos.\nAnd she bore the others to Cretheus, a queen among women,\nAeson and Pheres and Amythaon, who delighted in chariots.\nAnd after her I saw Antiope, daughter of Asopus,\nwho claimed that she had lain in the arms of Zeus,\nand she bore two sons, Amphion and Zethus,\nwho first founded the seat of seven-gated Thebes,\nand walled it, since they could not\nlive in spacious Thebes without walls, strong as they were.\nAnd after her I saw Alcmena, the wife of Amphitryon,\nwho bore Heracles, bold-spirited, lion-hearted,\nhaving lain in the arms of great Zeus;\nand Megara, daughter of overbearing Creon,\nwhom the son of Amphitryon married, his might never wearied.\nAnd I saw the mother of Oedipus, the fair Epicaste,\nwho did a great deed in the ignorance of her mind,\nmarrying her own son; and he, having killed his father,\nmarried her; and at once the gods made it known to men.\nBut he stayed in much-loved Thebes, ruling the Cadmeians\nand suffering griefs, through the deadly plans of the gods;\nand she went to the house of strong, gate-barring Hades,\nhaving tied a high noose from the lofty beam,\novercome by her grief; and she left griefs behind for him,\nvery many, such as a mother's Furies bring about.\nAnd I saw beautiful Chloris, whom once Neleus\nmarried for her beauty, since he gave countless bridal gifts,\nthe youngest daughter of Amphion, son of Iasus,\nwho once ruled by force in Minyan Orchomenus;\nand she was queen of Pylos, and bore him glorious children,\nNestor and Chromius and proud Periclymenus.\nAnd besides these she bore sturdy Pero, a wonder to mortals,\nwhom all the neighboring men courted; but Neleus\nwould not give her to any man unless he drove off the spiral-horned, broad-browed cattle\nfrom Phylace, the painful cattle of mighty Iphicles;\nand the blameless prophet alone promised to drive them out;\nbut the hard fate of the god bound him fast,\nand painful bonds, and the rustic herdsmen.\nBut when the months and the days were being fulfilled\nas the year rolled round again and the seasons came on,\nthen the might of Iphicles released him,\nwhen he had told all the oracles; and the will of Zeus was accomplished.\nAnd I saw Leda, the wife of Tyndareus,\nwho bore to Tyndareus two stout-hearted sons,\nCastor the horse-tamer and Polydeuces good at boxing,\nwhom the life-giving earth holds both of them alive;\nthey, even under the earth, having honor from Zeus,\nlive on alternate days, and at other times\nare dead; and they have obtained honor equal to the gods.\nAnd after her I saw Iphimedeia, wife of Aloeus,\nwho said that she had lain with Poseidon,\nand she bore two sons, but they were short-lived,\ngodlike Otus and far-famed Ephialtes,\nwhom the grain-giving earth raised as the tallest\nand by far the fairest, after famed Orion;\nfor at nine years old they were nine cubits\nbroad, and in height they grew to nine fathoms.\nThese two even threatened the immortal gods on Olympus\nto stir up the din of much-roaring war;\nthey meant to pile Ossa on Olympus, and on Ossa\nPelion with its shaking leaves, so that the sky could be climbed.\nAnd they would have done it, if they had reached the measure of youth;\nbut the son of Zeus, whom fair-haired Leto bore,\nkilled them both, before beneath their temples the down\nbloomed and covered their cheeks with a fair-flowering beard.\nAnd I saw Phaedra and Procris and the fair Ariadne,\nthe daughter of baleful-minded Minos, whom once Theseus\nwas leading from Crete to the hill of holy Athens,\nbut he did not enjoy her; for Artemis killed her first,\non sea-girt Dia, on the testimony of Dionysus.\nAnd I saw Maera and Clymene and hateful Eriphyle,\nwho accepted precious gold for the life of her own husband.\nBut I could not tell of all of them or name them,\nall the wives and the daughters of heroes that I saw;\nfor sooner would the immortal night fail. But it is also time\nto sleep, either going to the swift ship to my comrades,\nor here; and the sending home will be the care of the gods and of you.\nSo he spoke, and they all became silent in stillness,\nand they were held by enchantment throughout the shadowy halls.\nAnd among them white-armed Arete began the words:\nPhaeacians, how does this man seem to you to be,\nin form and height and in the good sense inside him?\nHe is my guest, and each of you has a share in the honor;\nso do not send him off in haste, and do not\ncut short the gifts for one who is so much in need; for many\npossessions lie in your halls by the will of the gods.\nAnd among them spoke the old hero Echeneus,\nwho was the eldest of the Phaeacian men:\nFriends, the thoughtful queen does not speak\noff the mark or against what we believe; so obey her.\nBut on Alcinoos here depends both deed and word.\nAnd Alcinoos answered him again and spoke:\nThis word shall indeed be so, if I at least\nrule as king, while alive, over the oar-loving Phaeacians;\nbut let the stranger endure, though he longs greatly for his homecoming,\nto wait until tomorrow all the same, until I have made\nall the gift-giving complete; and the sending home will be the care\nof all men, but most of all of me; for the power in the district is mine.\nAnd many-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nAlcinoos, mighty lord, most renowned of all peoples,\neven if you should tell me to stay here for a year,\nand urge on my sending home and give me glorious gifts,\nI would wish for that, and it would be far more profitable,\nto come to my dear fatherland with a fuller hand;\nand I would be more respected and dearer among all men,\nall who might see me returned to Ithaca.\nAnd Alcinoos answered him again and spoke:\nOdysseus, we do not look at you and suppose\nthat you are a deceiver and a cheat, such as many\nthe black earth nourishes, scattered far and wide among men,\nwho fashion lies out of things no one could see;\nbut upon you there is a beauty of words, and inside you a good mind.\nAnd you have recounted your tale skillfully, as a bard would,\nthe grievous sorrows of all the Argives and of yourself.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it exactly,\nwhether you saw any of your godlike comrades, who with you\nfollowed to Ilium and there met their fate.\nAnd this night is very long, immeasurably long; and it is not yet time\nto sleep in the hall; but do you tell me the wondrous deeds.\nAnd I could hold out until the bright dawn, if you\nwere willing to tell me your sorrows in the hall.\nAnd many-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nAlcinoos, mighty lord, most renowned of all peoples,\nthere is a time for many words, and a time also for sleep;\nbut if you are still eager to listen, I would not\nrefuse you this, but would tell other things more pitiable still,\nthe sorrows of my comrades, who perished afterwards,\nwho escaped the groaning battle-cry of the Trojans\nand perished on the way home through the will of a wicked woman.\nBut when the holy Persephone had scattered the souls\nof the tender women this way and that,\nthen came the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,\ngrieving; and around him the others gathered, all who with him\nhad died in the house of Aegisthus and met their fate.\nAnd he knew me at once, when he had drunk the dark blood;\nand he wept shrilly, shedding a thick tear,\nstretching out his hands toward me, eager to touch me;\nbut there was no longer any steady strength in him, nor any vigor\nsuch as there had been before in his supple limbs.\nI wept when I saw him and I pitied him in my heart,\nand speaking to him I addressed him with winged words:\nMost glorious son of Atreus, lord of men Agamemnon,\nwhat fate of long-drawn death subdued you?\nDid Poseidon subdue you among your ships,\nrousing a hateful blast of grievous winds?\nOr did hostile men do you harm on land,\nas you were cutting off cattle and fair flocks of sheep,\nor fighting for a city and for its women?\nSo I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,\nneither did Poseidon subdue me among the ships,\nrousing a hateful blast of grievous winds,\nnor did hostile men do me harm on land,\nbut Aegisthus, contriving death and doom for me,\nkilled me with the help of my accursed wife, calling me to his house,\nfeasting me, as one kills an ox at its manger.\nSo I died a most pitiable death; and around me the other comrades\nwere slaughtered without pause, like white-tusked boars,\nin the hall of a rich man of great power,\nat a wedding or a gathering or a lavish banquet.\nYou have already come upon the slaughter of many men,\nkilled one by one and in strong battle;\nbut you would have grieved most of all in your heart at that sight,\nhow around the mixing-bowl and the loaded tables\nwe lay in the hall, and the whole floor steamed with blood.\nAnd most piteous of all I heard the voice of the daughter of Priam,\nCassandra, whom crafty Clytemnestra killed\nover me, while I, raising my hands toward the ground,\nstruck them as I was dying around the sword; and the shameless woman\nturned away, and she did not dare, though I was going to Hades,\nto close my eyes with her hands or to press my mouth shut with hers.\nSo there is nothing more dreadful and more shameless than a woman,\none who lays such deeds in her mind;\nsuch a shameful deed indeed that woman contrived,\nplanning murder for her wedded husband. And I thought\nthat I would come home welcome to my children and my servants;\nbut she, knowing exceeding wickedness,\npoured out shame both on herself and on women to come\nlater on, even on her who does what is good.\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and said:\nAlas, indeed Zeus the far-thundering has terribly hated\nthe race of Atreus, through the counsels of women,\nfrom the beginning; for Helen's sake many of us perished,\nand for you Clytemnestra contrived a snare while you were far away.\nSo I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:\nTherefore never now be gentle with a woman, even so;\ndo not reveal to her every word that you know well,\nbut tell one part, and let the other stay hidden.\nBut it will not be from a woman that murder comes to you, Odysseus;\nfor the daughter of Icarius, the thoughtful Penelope,\nis very prudent and knows good counsels in her mind.\nWe indeed left her a young bride\nwhen we went to the war; and she had a child at her breast,\nan infant, who now, I suppose, sits among the numbered men,\nblessed; for his dear father will see him when he comes,\nand he will embrace his father, as is right.\nBut my wife did not let me be filled with the sight of my son,\neven with my eyes; before that she killed me too.\nAnd I will tell you another thing, and do you put it in your mind:\nsecretly, and not openly, bring your ship\nto your dear fatherland; for there is no longer trust in women.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it exactly,\nwhether you hear anywhere that my son is still alive,\neither at Orchomenus or at sandy Pylos,\nor somewhere by Menelaus in broad Sparta;\nfor godlike Orestes has not yet died on the earth.\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and said:\nSon of Atreus, why do you ask me this? I do not know at all\nwhether he is alive or dead; and it is bad to babble empty words.\nSo we two stood exchanging hateful words,\ngrieving, shedding a thick tear;\nand there came the soul of Achilles, son of Peleus,\nand that of Patroclus and of blameless Antilochus\nand of Ajax, who was the best in form and build\nof the other Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus.\nAnd the soul of the swift-footed descendant of Aeacus knew me,\nand in grief he addressed me with winged words:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,\nreckless man, what greater deed will you yet devise in your mind?\nHow did you dare to come down to the house of Hades, where the dead\ndwell without sense, the phantoms of mortals who have died?\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and said:\nAchilles, son of Peleus, by far the greatest of the Achaeans,\nI came for the need of Tiresias, in the hope that he might tell\nsome counsel, how I might reach rugged Ithaca;\nfor I have not yet come near Achaea, nor have I yet\nset foot on my own land, but I always have troubles. But than you, Achilles,\nno man was ever more blessed before, nor shall be hereafter.\nFor before, while you were alive, we honored you like the gods,\nwe Argives, and now again you hold great power among the dead\nwhile you are here; so do not grieve at all at having died, Achilles.\nSo I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:\nDo not comfort me about death, glorious Odysseus.\nI would rather be a hired laborer, serving another man,\na man with no portion of land, who has but little to live on,\nthan to be king over all the dead who have perished.\nBut come, tell me news of my glorious son,\nwhether he followed to the war to be a champion, or not.\nAnd tell me about blameless Peleus, if you have heard anything,\nwhether he still holds honor among the many Myrmidons,\nor do they dishonor him throughout Hellas and Phthia,\nbecause old age holds his hands and his feet.\nFor I am no defender under the beams of the sun,\nsuch as I once was in broad Troy,\nwhen I killed the best of the host, defending the Argives;\nif I could come as such a one, even for a moment, to my father's house,\nthen I would make my might and my resistless hands hateful\nto those who do him violence and drive him from his honor.\nSo he spoke, and I answered him and said:\nIndeed I have heard nothing of blameless Peleus,\nbut of your dear son Neoptolemus I will tell you\nthe whole truth, as you bid me;\nfor I myself brought him from Scyrus in a hollow, well-balanced ship,\nto the well-greaved Achaeans.\nIndeed, when we were considering counsels around the city of Troy,\nhe was always the first to speak and he did not miss the mark in words;\nonly godlike Nestor and I surpassed him.\nBut when we fought with bronze on the Trojan plain,\nhe never stayed back in the throng of men or in the crowd,\nbut he ran far ahead, yielding to no one in his might,\nand he killed many men in the dread battle-strife.\nBut I could not tell of all of them or name them,\nhow many of the host he killed defending the Argives,\nbut only how he slew with the bronze the son of Telephus,\nthe hero Eurypylus, and around him many comrades\nof the Cetians were killed for the sake of women's gifts.\nHim I saw as the fairest, after godlike Memnon.\nAnd when we went down into the horse that Epeius built,\nthe best of the Argives, and everything was assigned to me,\nboth to open the close ambush and to shut it,\nthere the other leaders and counselors of the Danaans\nwere wiping away tears and the limbs of each man trembled;\nbut him I never saw at all with my eyes\neither growing pale in his fair skin or wiping\na tear from his cheeks; but he begged greatly\nto be let out of the horse, and he kept feeling for the hilt of his sword\nand his bronze-heavy spear, and he planned evil for the Trojans.\nBut when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,\nhe went aboard the ship holding his share and his fine prize\nunharmed, neither struck by the sharp bronze\nnor wounded in close combat, such wounds as often\nhappen in war; for Ares rages confusedly.\nSo I spoke, and the soul of the swift-footed descendant of Aeacus\nwent with long strides across the field of asphodel,\nrejoicing that I had told him his son was renowned.\nAnd the other souls of the dead who had died\nstood grieving, and each one asked about her own sorrows.\nBut the soul of Ajax, son of Telamon, alone\nstood apart, angry because of the victory\nthat I had won over him in the judgment beside the ships\nover the armor of Achilles; and his revered mother had set it out.\nAnd the sons of the Trojans judged, and Pallas Athena.\nHow I wish I had not won in such a contest!\nFor such a head as his did the earth cover because of that armor,\nAjax, who in form and in deeds was fashioned above\nthe other Danaans, after the blameless son of Peleus.\nAnd I addressed him with gentle words:\nAjax, son of blameless Telamon, were you not going\neven in death to forget your anger against me because of the armor,\nthat accursed armor? The gods made it a woe for the Argives,\nfor such a tower as you were, you perished for them; and we Achaeans\ngrieve for you forever as much as for the head of Achilles, son of Peleus;\nand no one else\nis to blame, but Zeus terribly hated the host of spear-bearing Danaans,\nand laid a fate upon you.\nBut come here, lord, so that you may hear our word and speech;\nand subdue your might and your proud spirit.\nSo I spoke, and he answered me nothing, but went off after the other\nsouls of the dead who had died, into Erebus.\nThere, even though angry, he would have spoken to me, or I to him;\nbut my heart in my dear breast wished\nto see the souls of the other dead.\nThere indeed I saw Minos, the glorious son of Zeus,\nholding a golden staff, giving judgment to the dead,\nseated, and they asked him, their lord, for judgments,\nsitting and standing throughout the wide-gated house of Hades.\nAnd after him I noticed huge Orion\ndriving the wild beasts together across the field of asphodel,\nthe very beasts he had killed in the lonely mountains,\nholding in his hands a club of solid bronze, forever unbroken.\nAnd I saw Tityus, son of the far-famed Earth,\nlying on the ground; and he lay over nine acres of land,\nand two vultures, sitting on either side of him, tore at his liver,\ndipping into the fat, and he did not fend them off with his hands;\nfor he had dragged off Leto, the glorious wife of Zeus,\nas she was going to Pytho through beautiful Panopeus.\nAnd indeed I saw Tantalus, having great agony,\nstanding in a pool; and the water came near his chin;\nhe seemed to be thirsty, but he could not take and drink;\nfor as often as the old man bent down, eager to drink,\nso often the water was swallowed down and vanished, and at his feet\nthe black earth showed, and a god withered him away.\nAnd trees with high-fluttering leaves poured down fruit from the top,\npear trees and pomegranates and apple trees with shining fruit,\nsweet figs and luxuriant olives;\nand whenever the old man reached out with his hands to grasp them,\nthe wind tossed them up toward the shadowy clouds.\nAnd indeed I saw Sisyphus, having great agony,\nlifting a huge stone with both hands.\nHe would brace himself with hands and feet together\nand push the stone upward toward the hill; but whenever he was about\nto thrust it over the top, then its power turned it back,\nand again the shameless stone rolled down to the plain.\nBut he strained and pushed it up, and the sweat poured\nfrom his limbs, and dust rose from his head.\nAnd after him I noticed the might of Heracles,\na phantom; but he himself among the immortal gods\ndelights in feasting and holds fair-ankled Hebe,\nthe daughter of great Zeus and of Hera of the golden sandals.\nAnd around him was a clamor of the dead, like birds,\nscattering in panic on every side; and he, like the dark night,\nholding his bare bow and an arrow on the string,\nglaring terribly, seeming always about to shoot.\nAnd dread across his chest was his sword-belt,\na golden strap, in which wondrous works were fashioned,\nbears and wild boars and lions with shining eyes,\nbattles and fights and slaughters and killings of men.\nMay the one who made it by his craft never make another thing,\nwhoever placed that belt into his skill.\nAnd he knew me again, when he saw me with his eyes,\nand in grief he addressed me with winged words:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,\nah, poor man, are you too leading some evil doom,\nthe kind I once endured under the beams of the sun?\nI was a son of Zeus, son of Cronos, yet I had\nboundless misery; for I was enslaved to a far worse man,\nand he laid cruel labors on me.\nAnd once he sent me here to bring away the dog; for he thought\nthere was no other labor more powerful than this for me;\nand I brought him up and led him out of the house of Hades,\nand Hermes sent me on, and bright-eyed Athena.\nSo saying, he went back again into the house of Hades,\nbut I stayed there and held my ground, in case anyone else should come\nof the heroic men, who had perished in former times.\nAnd I might have seen yet more men of former days, whom I wanted,\nTheseus and Peirithous, glorious children of the gods;\nbut before that, countless tribes of the dead gathered,\nwith a wondrous cry; and pale fear seized me,\nin case the revered Persephone send against me from the house of Hades\nthe Gorgon's head of that dread monster.\nThen straightway I went to the ship and told my comrades\nboth to embark themselves and to loose the stern-cables.\nAnd they embarked quickly and sat down at the rowing-benches.\nAnd the wave of the river carried the ship down along Ocean,\nfirst with rowing, and afterwards with a fair following wind.\n\n### Book 12\n\nBut when the ship had left the stream of the river Oceanus\nand had reached the swell of the broad sea,\nand the island Aeaea, where the house and the dancing places\nof early-born Dawn are, and the risings of the Sun,\nwe came there and beached the ship on the sand,\nand we ourselves stepped out onto the breaking surf of the sea;\nand there we lay down and slept and waited for bright Dawn.\nWhen early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen I sent my men to Circe's house\nto bring the body of the dead Elpenor.\nWe quickly cut wood where the headland jutted out highest,\nand buried him in grief, shedding a big warm tear.\nWhen the dead man and the dead man's armour had been burned,\nand we had piled up a mound and set up a gravestone,\nwe planted his well-shaped oar on top of the mound.\nWe took care of each thing; and Circe did not fail to notice us,\nsince we had come back from Hades, but very quickly\nshe came, dressed and ready; and her maids brought with her\nbread and plenty of meat and red, sparkling wine.\nShe stood among us and spoke, the shining goddess among goddesses:\nWretched men, you who went down alive into the house of Hades,\ndying twice, when other men die only once.\nCome now, eat food and drink wine\nhere all day long; and when Dawn appears\nyou will sail; and I will show you the way and I will explain\neverything, so that you do not suffer harm\non the sea or on land from painful, evil plotting.\nSo she spoke, and our proud spirit was persuaded again.\nSo then all day long, until the sun went down,\nwe sat feasting on endless meat and sweet wine.\nWhen the sun had set and darkness came,\nthey lay down to sleep by the ship's stern-cables,\nbut she took me by the hand and led me away from my dear men,\nand sat me down and lay beside me and asked me about everything;\nand I told her everything in the right order.\nAnd then the lady Circe spoke to me and said:\nAll of this has now been carried through; but you listen,\nas I will tell you, and a god himself will remind you of it.\nFirst you will come to the Sirens, who beguile every\nman who comes to them.\nWhoever draws near in ignorance and hears the voice\nof the Sirens, for him neither his wife nor his little children\nstand beside him when he returns home, nor do they welcome him with joy,\nbut the Sirens beguile him with their clear-sounding song,\nas they sit in a meadow, and around them a great heap of bones\nof men who have rotted away, and the skin shrivels on them.\nBut drive past them, and stop the ears of your men\nwith honey-sweet wax that you have kneaded, so that none of the others\nhears; but if you yourself want to hear,\nlet them tie you in the swift ship, both hands and feet,\nupright against the mast-step, and let the ropes be fastened to it,\nso that you may hear the voice of the two Sirens and enjoy it.\nAnd if you beg your men and order them to untie you,\nthen let them tie you with even more ropes.\nBut once your men have driven past them,\nthen I will no longer tell you plainly\nwhich of the two routes will be yours, but you yourself\nmust decide it in your heart; and I will tell you about both.\nOn one side are overhanging rocks, and against them\na great wave roars, the wave of dark-faced Amphitrite;\nthese the blessed gods call the Wandering Rocks.\nPast that way not even winged creatures go, nor doves,\nthe timid ones, that carry ambrosia to father Zeus,\nbut even of these the smooth rock always takes one away;\nyet the father puts another in, so the number stays complete.\nPast that way no ship of men has ever escaped, whichever one arrives,\nbut the waves of the sea and the blasts of deadly fire\nsweep away together the ship's planks and the bodies of men.\nOnly one sea-going ship has ever sailed past it,\nthe Argo, dear to everyone, sailing home from Aeetes.\nAnd even it would quickly have been thrown against the great rocks,\nbut Hera guided it past, because Jason was dear to her.\nThere are two cliffs; one of them reaches the broad sky\nwith its sharp peak, and a cloud surrounds it,\ndark blue; and that never clears, nor does clear weather\never hold that peak, neither in summer nor in harvest time.\nNor could a mortal man climb it or stand on it,\nnot even if he had twenty hands and twenty feet;\nfor the rock is smooth, like something polished.\nAnd in the middle of the cliff there is a misty cave,\nturned toward the west, toward Erebus, and that is where you,\nshining Odysseus, would steer your hollow ship.\nNor from the hollow ship could a strong man\nshoot an arrow and reach the hollow cave.\nAnd inside it lives Scylla, barking horribly.\nHer voice is exactly like that of a newborn puppy,\nbut she herself is a wicked monster; and no one\nwould be glad to see her, not even if a god met her.\nShe has twelve feet, all of them deformed,\nand six necks, very long, and on each one\na dreadful head, and in each head three rows of teeth\npacked close and crowded, full of black death.\nShe is sunk down in the middle of the hollow cave,\nbut she sticks her heads out from the dreadful pit,\nand fishes there, hungrily eyeing the rock all around,\nfor dolphins and for dogs, and if she catches something bigger,\na sea-monster, such as groaning Amphitrite feeds in countless numbers.\nNo sailors ever yet boast\nthat they have escaped her with their ship; instead she carries off with each head\na man, snatching him out of the dark-prowed ship.\nThe other cliff, Odysseus, you will see is lower.\nThey are close to each other; you could shoot an arrow across.\nOn it there is a great wild fig tree, thick with leaves;\nbeneath it divine Charybdis sucks down the black water.\nThree times a day she spews it up, and three times she sucks it down\nhorribly; may you never be there when she sucks it down;\nfor not even the earth-shaker could pull you out of that evil.\nInstead, stay close against Scylla's cliff and drive the ship\npast quickly, since it is far better\nto mourn six men in the ship than to lose them all together.\nSo she spoke, and I answered her and said:\nCome then, goddess, tell me this truthfully,\nwhether I might somehow escape deadly Charybdis,\nand fight her off when she harms my men.\nSo I spoke, and she answered me at once, the shining goddess among goddesses:\nWretched man, so now you have war and hardship\non your mind again; will you not give way even to the immortal gods?\nShe is not mortal, but an immortal evil,\ndreadful and hard and savage and not to be fought;\nthere is no defence against her; the best thing is to run from her.\nFor if you linger there arming yourself beside the rock,\nI am afraid that she may rush out at you again and catch you\nwith that many heads, and take that many men.\nInstead drive on very hard, and call on Crataiis,\nthe mother of Scylla, who bore her as a plague for mortals;\nshe will then stop her from rushing out again afterward.\nAnd you will come to the island Thrinacia; there many\ncattle of the Sun graze, and fat sheep,\nseven herds of cattle, and as many fine flocks of sheep,\nfifty in each. No young are born to them,\nand they never die off. Goddesses are their shepherds,\nnymphs with lovely braids, Phaethusa and Lampetie,\nwhom divine Neaera bore to the Sun Hyperion.\nThe lady mother, having raised them and borne them,\nsettled them on the island Thrinacia, to live far away,\nto guard their father's sheep and the curving-horned cattle.\nIf you leave them unharmed and think about your homecoming,\nthen you might still reach Ithaca, though you suffer troubles;\nbut if you harm them, then I foretell destruction for you,\nfor your ship and your men; and even if you yourself escape,\nyou will come home late and miserably, having lost all your men.\nSo she spoke, and straightway golden-throned Dawn came.\nThen the shining goddess among goddesses went off across the island;\nbut I went to the ship and roused my men\nto get aboard themselves and untie the stern-cables.\nThey boarded quickly and sat down at the rowing benches.\nSitting in rows they struck the grey sea with their oars.\nAnd behind us, from the dark-prowed ship,\nfair Circe of the lovely braids, a dangerous goddess with a human voice,\nsent a following wind, filling the sails, a good companion.\nAt once we got everything ready throughout the ship\nand sat down; and the wind and the helmsman steered her.\nThen I spoke among my men, grieving at heart:\nFriends, it is not right that only one or two should know\nthe prophecies that Circe told me, the shining goddess among goddesses;\nbut I will tell you, so that knowing them we may either die\nor avoid death and escape destruction.\nFirst she told us to avoid the voice of the wondrous Sirens\nand their flowering meadow.\nOnly me she told to hear their voice; but you must tie me\nin a painful bond, so that I stay fixed there,\nupright against the mast-step, and let the ropes be fastened to it.\nAnd if I beg you and order you to untie me,\nthen you must press me down with even more ropes.\nSo I told my men everything, making it clear;\nand meanwhile the well-built ship came quickly\nto the island of the two Sirens; for a harmless fair wind drove it on.\nAt once then the wind stopped, and there was\na windless calm, and a god put the waves to sleep.\nMy men rose and furled the ship's sails\nand put them in the hollow ship, and sitting at the oars\nthey whitened the water with their polished pine blades.\nBut I cut a big wheel of wax with sharp bronze\ninto little pieces, and pressed it with my strong hands;\nand the wax quickly melted, since the great force compelled it,\nand the ray of the Sun, the son of the lord Hyperion.\nAnd one after another I smeared it on the ears of all my men.\nAnd they tied me in the ship, both hands and feet together,\nupright against the mast-step, and fastened the ropes to it;\nand they themselves sat and struck the grey sea with their oars.\nBut when we were as far away as a shout can carry,\nas we sped quickly, the swift-sailing ship did not escape their notice\nas it came near, and they prepared their clear-sounding song:\nCome here, come, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans,\nstop your ship, so that you may hear our voice.\nFor no one has ever rowed past this place in his black ship\nbefore hearing the honey-sweet voice from our mouths,\nbut he goes on, delighted, and knowing more than before.\nFor we know everything that in wide Troy\nthe Argives and the Trojans suffered by the will of the gods,\nand we know everything that happens on the bountiful earth.\nSo they spoke, sending out their lovely voice; and my heart\nwanted to listen, and I ordered my men to untie me,\nnodding with my eyebrows; but they rowed on even harder.\nAt once Perimedes and Eurylochus rose\nand tied me with more ropes and pressed me harder.\nBut when they had passed them by, and after that no longer\ndid we hear the voice of the Sirens or their song,\nat once my trusty men took off the wax\nthat I had smeared on their ears, and untied me from my ropes.\nBut when we had left the island, at once after that\nI saw smoke and a great wave and heard a thundering noise.\nAnd in their fear the oars flew out of their hands,\nand they all clattered along the current; and the ship stopped right there,\nbecause they no longer drove the sharp oars with their hands.\nBut I went through the ship and roused my men\nwith gentle words, standing beside each man:\nFriends, we are not inexperienced in troubles yet;\nsurely this is no greater evil than when the Cyclops\npenned us in his hollow cave with his brute strength;\nbut even from there, by my courage and planning and sense,\nwe escaped, and I think we will remember these things too.\nBut come now, let us all do as I say.\nYou, strike the deep surf of the sea with your oars,\nsitting at the benches, in case somehow Zeus\ngrants us to escape and get away from this destruction;\nand to you, helmsman, I give this order; keep it\nin mind, since you handle the steering-oars of the hollow ship.\nKeep the ship clear of this smoke and wave,\nand keep close to the cliff, in case she slips past your notice\nand dashes off that way and throws us into trouble.\nSo I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words.\nBut I did not speak of Scylla, a hopeless trouble,\nin case my men, frightened, might stop\nrowing and crowd together inside the ship.\nAnd then I forgot the painful command of Circe,\nsince she had not told me at all to arm myself.\nBut I put on my glorious armour and took two spears\nin my hands, long ones, and went up onto the ship's deck\nat the prow; for I expected that she would appear there first,\nScylla of the rocks, who brought trouble to my men.\nBut I could not see her anywhere, and my eyes grew tired\nas I stared in every direction toward the misty rock.\nWe rowed up the narrow strait groaning;\non one side Scylla, on the other divine Charybdis\nterribly sucked down the salt water of the sea.\nWhen she vomited it up, like a cauldron on a big fire\nshe boiled and seethed all over, and the spray up high\nfell on both the topmost cliffs;\nbut when she swallowed the salt water of the sea down again,\nshe looked all seething inside, and around the rock\nit roared horribly, and underneath the ground showed\nblack with sand; and pale fear seized them.\nWe looked at her, afraid of destruction;\nand meanwhile Scylla snatched six of my men out of the hollow ship,\nthe best of them all with their hands and their strength.\nWhen I looked toward the swift ship and among my men,\nI already saw the feet and the hands of those men\nbeing lifted up high; and they called out to me,\ncalling me by name, for the last time, grieving at heart.\nAs when a fisherman on a jutting rock with a very long rod\ncasts a bait for the little fish, a trick of food,\nand sends the horn of a grazing ox into the sea,\nand then catches one flopping and throws it out,\nso those men were lifted up flopping toward the rocks;\nand there at the mouth of the cave she ate them as they screamed,\nstretching out their hands to me in that terrible fight;\nthat was the most pitiful sight my eyes ever saw\nof all the hardships I suffered, searching out the sea routes.\nBut when we had escaped the rocks and dreadful Charybdis\nand Scylla, at once after that we came to the flawless island\nof the god; and there were fine broad-browed cattle,\nand many fat sheep of Hyperion the Sun.\nThen, while I was still out on the sea in the black ship,\nI heard the lowing of the cattle as they were stalled\nand the bleating of sheep; and a saying came into my heart\nfrom the blind prophet, Teiresias of Thebes,\nand from Circe of Aeaea, who had told me many things,\nto avoid the island of the Sun who delights mortals.\nThen I spoke among my men, grieving at heart:\nListen to my words, men, even though you are suffering troubles,\nso that I can tell you the prophecies of Teiresias\nand of Circe of Aeaea, who told me many things,\nto avoid the island of the Sun who delights mortals;\nfor she said that there would be the most terrible evil for us.\nBut drive the black ship past the island.\nSo I spoke, and their dear hearts broke inside them.\nAt once Eurylochus answered me with a hateful word:\nYou are hard, Odysseus; there is great force in you, and your limbs\nnever get tired; surely you are made all of iron,\nyou who do not let your men, worn out with toil and with sleep,\nset foot on land, where we could once more\nmake a pleasant supper on the island ringed by sea,\nbut you tell us to wander like this through the swift night,\ndriven off from the island, on the misty sea.\nAt night the winds turn hard, the ruin of ships;\nhow could anyone escape sheer destruction,\nif suddenly a squall of wind comes,\nfrom the South or from the harsh West, which most of all\ntear a ship apart, against the will of the gods who rule?\nBut come now, let us obey the black night,\nand get supper ready, staying by the swift ship,\nand at dawn we will board and put out into the broad sea.\nSo spoke Eurylochus, and the other men agreed.\nAnd then I understood that the god was planning evil;\nand I spoke to him and addressed him with winged words:\nEurylochus, you are really forcing me hard, when I am only one man.\nBut come now, all of you swear me a strong oath:\nif we find any herd of cattle or a big flock of sheep,\nlet no one in wicked recklessness\nkill a cow or any sheep; but quietly\neat the food that immortal Circe gave us.\nSo I spoke, and they swore at once as I told them.\nBut when they had sworn and finished the oath,\nwe moored the well-built ship in the hollow harbour\nnear the sweet water, and the men stepped out\nof the ship, and then they got supper ready skillfully.\nBut when they had put away their desire for drink and food,\nthen they remembered and wept for their dear men,\nwhom Scylla had eaten, snatching them from the hollow ship;\nand as they wept, sweet sleep came over them.\nBut when it was the third part of the night, and the stars had passed,\nZeus the cloud-gatherer roused a violent wind against us\nwith a wondrous squall, and covered with clouds\nthe land and the sea together; and night rushed down from the sky.\nBut when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nwe moored the ship, dragging it into a hollow cave.\nAnd there were fine dancing places of the nymphs and seats;\nand then I held an assembly and spoke among them:\nFriends, in the swift ship there is food and drink,\nso let us keep away from the cattle, in case we suffer harm;\nfor these cattle and fat sheep belong to a dreadful god,\nthe Sun, who sees everything and hears everything.\nSo I spoke, and their proud spirit was persuaded.\nAnd for a whole month the South Wind blew without stopping, and no other\nwind came after that except the East Wind and the South Wind.\nAs long as they had grain and red wine,\nso long they kept away from the cattle, wanting to live.\nBut when all the ship's provisions were gone,\nthen they went around hunting out of necessity,\nfor fish and birds, whatever came to their hands,\nwith curved hooks, and hunger tormented their bellies;\nthen I went off across the island, so that I might pray\nto the gods, in case someone would show me the way home.\nBut when I had gone through the island and got away from my men,\nI washed my hands, in a place sheltered from the wind,\nand prayed to all the gods who hold Olympus;\nand they poured sweet sleep over my eyelids.\nBut Eurylochus began to give my men evil advice:\nListen to my words, men, even though you are suffering troubles.\nAll deaths are hateful to wretched mortals,\nbut the most pitiful is to die of hunger and meet that fate.\nBut come, let us drive off the best of the Sun's cattle\nand sacrifice to the immortals who hold the broad sky.\nAnd if we reach Ithaca, our own land,\nwe will quickly build a rich temple for the Sun Hyperion,\nand in it we will put many fine offerings.\nAnd if, angry about the straight-horned cattle,\nhe wants to destroy the ship, and the other gods go along with him,\nI would rather lose my life at once, gulping down the wave,\nthan waste away for a long time on a deserted island.\nSo spoke Eurylochus, and the other men agreed.\nAt once they drove off the best of the Sun's cattle\nfrom close by, for not far from the dark-prowed ship\nthe fine, curving, broad-browed cattle were grazing;\nand they stood around them and prayed to the gods,\nplucking tender leaves from a tall-leafed oak;\nfor they had no white barley on the well-benched ship.\nBut when they had prayed and slaughtered and skinned them,\nthey cut out the thigh-bones and covered them with fat,\nmaking a double layer, and laid raw pieces on top.\nThey had no wine to pour on the burning offerings,\nbut they poured water and roasted all the innards.\nBut when the thighs were burned and they had tasted the innards,\nthey chopped up the rest and put it on spits.\nAnd then sweet sleep rushed from my eyelids,\nand I went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.\nBut when I came near the curved ship,\nthen the sweet smell of the fat wrapped around me.\nI groaned and cried out loud to the immortal gods:\nFather Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,\nsurely you put me to sleep into ruin with a pitiless sleep.\nAnd my men who stayed behind planned a great deed.\nAnd swift-footed Lampetie of the long robe came as a messenger\nto the Sun Hyperion, that we had killed his cattle.\nAnd at once, angry at heart, he spoke among the immortals:\nFather Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,\ntake vengeance on the men of Odysseus, son of Laertes,\nwho killed my cattle in their arrogance, cattle that I\ntook joy in as I went up into the starry sky,\nand when I turned back again to the earth from the sky.\nAnd if they do not pay me a fair price for the cattle,\nI will go down into Hades and shine among the dead.\nAnd Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him and said:\nSun, you shine indeed among the immortals\nand among mortal men on the grain-giving earth;\nbut I will quickly strike their swift ship with a bright thunderbolt\nand smash it into little pieces in the middle of the wine-dark sea.\nAnd I heard this from fair-haired Calypso;\nand she said she herself had heard it from Hermes the guide.\nBut when I came down to the ship and the sea,\nI scolded one man after another, standing beside each, but we could\nfind no way out, and the cattle were already dead.\nAnd at once the gods showed them signs:\nthe hides crawled, and the meat on the spits bellowed,\nboth roasted and raw, and a voice came out like that of cattle.\nFor six days then my trusty men\nfeasted on the best of the Sun's cattle that they had driven off;\nbut when Zeus the son of Cronos brought the seventh day,\nthen the wind stopped, blowing in a squall,\nand we quickly went aboard and put out into the broad sea,\nsetting up the mast and hoisting the white sails.\nBut when we had left the island, and no other\nland appeared, but only sky and sea,\nthen the son of Cronos set a dark cloud\nabove the hollow ship, and the sea grew dark beneath it.\nAnd she ran on for no long time; for quickly came\nthe West Wind screaming, blowing with a great squall,\nand the blast of the wind snapped both forestays of the mast;\nand the mast fell backward, and all the gear\npoured down into the bilge. And it struck the head\nof the helmsman at the stern of the ship, and smashed all\nthe bones of his head together; and he, like a diver,\nfell down from the deck, and his proud spirit left his bones.\nAnd Zeus thundered at the same time and hurled a thunderbolt at the ship;\nand she was shaken all over, struck by the bolt of Zeus,\nand filled with sulphur, and my men fell from the ship.\nAnd they, like sea-crows, around the black ship\nwere carried by the waves, and the god took away their homecoming.\nBut I went up and down through the ship, until the surge\nloosed the sides from the keel, and the wave carried her stripped bare,\nand it snapped the mast off at the keel. And on it\na back-stay had been thrown, made of ox-hide;\nwith this I bound both together, the keel and the mast,\nand sitting on them I was carried by the deadly winds.\nThen indeed the West Wind stopped, blowing in a squall,\nand the South Wind came quickly, bringing grief to my heart,\nso that I might measure out deadly Charybdis again.\nAll night long I was carried, and at the rising of the sun\nI came to the rock of Scylla and to dreadful Charybdis.\nShe was sucking down the salt water of the sea;\nbut I, lifted up high toward the great fig tree,\nclung to it and held on, like a bat. But I had nowhere\nto plant my feet firmly or to stand on;\nfor the roots were far below, and the branches hung high,\nlong and great, and they overshadowed Charybdis.\nI held on without letting go, until she should vomit up again\nthe mast and the keel; and, though I longed for them, they came\nlate; but at the hour when a man gets up from the assembly for supper,\njudging many quarrels of young men who are arguing their cases,\nat that hour the timbers of Charybdis appeared.\nI let my feet and hands go to fall down from above,\nand dropped with a thud in the middle, beside the long timbers,\nand sitting on them I rowed with my hands.\nBut Scylla the father of men and gods did not let me\nsee her again; for I would not have escaped sheer destruction.\nFrom there I was carried for nine days, and on the tenth night\nthe gods brought me to the island Ogygia, where Calypso\nlives, fair-haired, a dreadful goddess with a human voice,\nwho loved me and cared for me. Why do I tell you these things?\nFor I already told them to you yesterday in your house,\nto you and to your strong wife; and I hate\nto tell again a story that has been clearly told.\n\n### Book 13\n\nSo he spoke, and all of them fell silent and said nothing,\nheld spellbound through the shadowy hall.\nThen Alcinous answered him and said:\nOdysseus, since you have come to my house with its bronze threshold,\nhigh-roofed, I do not think you will be turned back again\nand fail to get home, even though you have suffered a great deal.\nTo each one of you I say this, wanting you to hear it,\nall you who in my halls always drink the bright wine of the elders\nand listen to the singer.\nThe clothes for the guest are lying in the well-polished chest,\nand the intricately worked gold, and all the other\ngifts that the Phaeacian counsellors brought here.\nBut come, let us each give him a large tripod and a cauldron,\none man at a time; and we in turn, collecting from the district,\nwill be repaid; for it is hard for one man to give a gift for nothing.\nSo spoke Alcinous, and his words pleased them.\nThey went each to his own house to lie down and sleep,\nand when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthey hurried to the ship, and carried the bronze that gives men strength.\nAnd the sacred strength of Alcinous stowed it all well,\ngoing himself through the ship under the benches, so that none of the crew\nwould be hurt as they rowed, when they hurried at the oars.\nThey went to Alcinous' house and prepared the feast.\nAnd the sacred strength of Alcinous sacrificed a bull for them\nto Zeus the dark-clouded, son of Cronus, who rules over all.\nWhen they had burned the thigh bones they feasted on a glorious meal,\ntaking their pleasure; and among them sang the divine singer,\nDemodocus, honoured by the people. But Odysseus\nkept turning his head often toward the all-shining sun,\neager for it to set, for he was longing to be gone.\nAs when a man longs for his dinner, for whom all day long\nhis wine-dark oxen have dragged the jointed plough through the fallow field,\nand gladly for him the light of the sun goes down,\nso that he can go to his dinner, and his knees give out as he walks,\nso welcome to Odysseus was the setting light of the sun.\nAt once he spoke to the oar-loving Phaeacians,\nand above all, making it clear to Alcinous, he spoke his words:\nAlcinous, lord, most distinguished of all peoples,\nsend me on my way with a libation, unharmed, and may you yourselves be well.\nFor all that my dear heart wanted has now been accomplished,\nescort and dear gifts; may the gods in heaven\nmake them a blessing; and may I find at home a blameless wife\nwhen I return, with my dear ones safe and sound.\nAnd may you, staying here, give joy to your wedded wives\nand children; and may the gods grant you every kind of excellence,\nand may no evil come upon your people.\nSo he spoke, and they all praised him and urged\nthat the stranger be sent on his way, since he had spoken as he should.\nAnd then the sacred strength of Alcinous said to the herald:\nPontonous, mix the bowl and serve the honey-sweet wine\nto everyone throughout the hall, so that when we have prayed to father Zeus\nwe may send the stranger to his own native land.\nSo he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine,\nand served it to everyone, standing by each in turn; and they poured libations to the blessed gods\nwho hold the wide heaven,\nfrom where they sat. And godlike Odysseus stood up,\nand put into Arete's hand a two-handled cup,\nand speaking he addressed her with winged words:\nFarewell to me, O queen, forever, until old age\nand death come, which are the lot of human beings.\nBut I am going home; and may you take delight in this house\nwith your children and your people and Alcinous the king.\nSo saying, godlike Odysseus stepped over the threshold,\nand with him the sacred strength of Alcinous sent the herald\nto lead the way to the swift ship and the shore of the sea;\nand Arete sent her handmaid women along with him,\none carrying a well-washed cloak and a tunic,\nand to another she gave a tightly packed chest to carry along;\nand a third brought bread and red wine.\nBut when they had come down to the ship and the sea,\nat once the noble escorts in the hollow ship\nreceived them and stowed them, all the drink and all the food;\nand they spread for Odysseus a rug and a linen sheet\non the deck planks of the hollow ship, so that he might sleep a sleep without waking,\nat the stern; and he himself stepped aboard and lay down\nin silence; and they sat down, each at his own bench,\nin good order, and loosed the cable from the pierced stone.\nWhen they had leaned back and were tossing up the salt sea with their oars,\nthen sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids,\na sleep without waking, the sweetest, most like to death.\nAnd she, as when on a plain four stallion horses,\nall starting off together under the strokes of the whip,\nlifting themselves high, swiftly finish their course,\nso her stern rose up, and behind her a great purple wave\nboiled up out of the much-resounding sea.\nAnd she ran very safely and steadily; not even a hawk,\nthe circling hawk, could have kept up with her, the lightest of winged things.\nSo, running swiftly, she cut through the waves of the sea,\ncarrying a man whose counsels were like those of the gods;\nwho before had suffered very many griefs in his own heart,\npassing through wars of men and grievous waves,\nbut then he slept quietly, forgetting all that he had suffered.\nWhen the brightest star rose up, the one that comes most of all\nannouncing the light of early-born Dawn,\nthen the sea-faring ship drew near to the island.\nThere is a harbour of Phorcys, the old man of the sea,\nin the land of Ithaca; and two jutting headlands are in it,\nsheer broken cliffs, leaning down toward the harbour,\nwhich shelter the great wave of the ill-blowing winds\nfrom outside; and inside, without any mooring rope, stay\nwell-benched ships, once they have reached the measure of a good anchorage.\nAnd at the head of the harbour is a long-leafed olive tree,\nand near it a lovely shadowy cave,\nsacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads.\nIn it are mixing bowls and two-handled jars\nof stone; and there the bees store up their honey.\nAnd in it are very tall stone looms, where the nymphs\nweave sea-purple cloth, a wonder to look at;\nand in it are ever-flowing waters. And it has two doors,\none toward the North, a way down for men,\nand the other toward the South, which is more divine; and by that way\nno men come in, but it is the path of the immortals.\nThere they drove in, not knowing it beforehand; and she then\nran aground on the mainland as far as half of her whole length,\nhurrying on; so greatly was the strength of the rowers pushing her.\nAnd they, stepping out of the well-benched ship onto the land,\nfirst lifted Odysseus out of the hollow ship\ntogether with his linen sheet and his shining rug,\nand laid him on the sand, overcome by sleep,\nand lifted out the possessions which the noble Phaeacians\nhad given him as he went homeward, through great-hearted Athena.\nAnd these they piled up together beside the foot of the olive\noff the road, in case some passing man\ncame upon them before Odysseus woke and harmed them;\nand they themselves went back home again. Nor did the earth-shaker\nforget the threats which he had first made against godlike Odysseus,\nbut he asked for the counsel of Zeus:\nFather Zeus, I shall no longer be honoured\namong the immortal gods, since mortals do not honour me at all,\nthe Phaeacians, who are indeed of my own lineage.\nFor even now I said that Odysseus, having suffered many evils,\nwould come home; and I never wholly took away his homecoming,\nsince you first promised it and nodded your assent.\nBut they, carrying him asleep in the swift ship over the sea,\nset him down in Ithaca, and gave him countless gifts,\nbronze and gold in abundance and woven clothing,\nmany things, such as Odysseus would never have carried away from Troy,\neven if he had come back unharmed, having drawn his share from the spoil.\nAnd Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him and said:\nWell now, earth-shaker of wide strength, what a thing you have said.\nThe gods do not dishonour you; and it would be hard\nto hurl dishonour at the eldest and the best.\nBut if some man, yielding to your force and might,\ndoes not honour you, there is always vengeance for you afterwards too.\nDo as you wish, and as is dear to your heart.\nThen Poseidon the earth-shaker answered him:\nI would do it at once, dark-clouded one, just as you say;\nbut I always respect and avoid your anger.\nNow again I wish that the very beautiful ship of the Phaeacians,\nas it comes back from its escort, in the misty sea,\nI might smash, so that they may now hold back and stop escorting\nmortals, and that I might wrap a great mountain around their city.\nAnd Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him:\nMy dear one, as it seems best to my own heart,\nwhen all the people from the city see it as it is rowed in,\nthen set a stone near the land,\nlike a swift ship, so that all men may marvel,\nand wrap a great mountain around their city.\nBut when Poseidon the earth-shaker heard this,\nhe went to Scheria, where the Phaeacians live.\nThere he waited; and the sea-faring ship came very close,\nswiftly driven; and the earth-shaker came near it,\nwho turned it into stone and rooted it fast from below,\nstriking it with the flat of his hand; and he had gone off.\nAnd they spoke winged words to one another,\nthe Phaeacians of long oars, men famous for their ships.\nAnd one of them would say, looking at another nearby:\nAlas, who has stopped the swift ship in the sea\nas it was being rowed home? And indeed it had appeared entire.\nSo someone would say; but they did not know how it had happened.\nThen Alcinous spoke to them and said:\nAlas, indeed the prophecies spoken long ago have come upon me,\nfrom my father, who said that Poseidon was angry\nwith us, because we are blameless escorts of all men.\nHe said that one day a very beautiful ship of Phaeacian men,\ncoming back from an escort, in the misty sea,\nwould be smashed, and a great mountain would wrap around our city.\nSo the old man spoke; and now all of this is being fulfilled.\nBut come, let us all be persuaded by what I say:\nstop escorting mortals, whenever anyone comes\nto our city; and to Poseidon let us sacrifice twelve bulls,\nchosen ones, in the hope that he may take pity,\nand not wrap a towering mountain around our city.\nSo he spoke, and they were afraid, and got the bulls ready.\nSo they prayed to lord Poseidon,\nthe leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacian people,\nstanding around the altar. And godlike Odysseus woke\nas he slept in his native land, and he did not recognize it,\nhaving been away so long; for the goddess had poured mist around him,\nPallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, so that she might make him\nunrecognized, and tell him everything,\nbefore his wife or his townsmen or his friends recognized him,\nbefore he had exacted payment for all the suitors' outrage.\nThat is why everything appeared in another shape to the lord,\nthe long straight paths and the harbours fit for any mooring,\nand the steep cliffs and the flourishing trees.\nHe sprang up and stood, and looked at his native land;\nand then he groaned aloud and struck his thighs\nwith the flat of his hands, and lamenting he spoke a word:\nWoe is me, into the land of what mortals have I come now?\nAre they violent and savage, and not just,\nor are they friendly to strangers, and is their mind god-fearing?\nWhere am I to carry these many goods? And where am I myself\nto wander? I wish I had stayed with the Phaeacians\nthere; and I might have reached another of the over-mighty kings,\nwho would have loved me and sent me on my way.\nBut now I do not know where to put these things, and I will not leave them\nhere either, in case they become spoil for others.\nWell then, the leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians were not\nall sensible and just,\nwho led me away to another land, though they said\nthey would bring me to clear-seen Ithaca, and they did not do it.\nMay Zeus, the god of suppliants, punish them, he who also\nwatches over other men and takes vengeance on anyone who does wrong.\nBut come, let me count the goods and look them over,\nin case they have gone off carrying some of them in the hollow ship.\nSo saying, he counted the very beautiful tripods and cauldrons\nand the gold and the woven beautiful clothing.\nHe was missing none of these; but he mourned for his native land,\ncrawling along the shore of the much-resounding sea,\nlamenting greatly. And Athena came near to him,\nin form like a young man, a keeper of sheep,\nvery soft-skinned, such as the sons of lords are,\nwearing a well-made two-fold cloak over her shoulders;\nand under her shining feet she had sandals, and in her hands a spear.\nOdysseus was glad when he saw her, and came to meet her,\nand speaking he addressed her with winged words:\nFriend, since I first come upon you in this place,\ngreetings, and do not meet me with any evil intent,\nbut save these things, and save me; for to you I pray\nas to a god, and I come to your dear knees.\nAnd tell me this truthfully, so that I may know it well:\nWhat land, what people, what men are born here?\nIs it some clear-seen island, or some shore\nlying there by the sea of the rich-soiled mainland?\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:\nYou are a fool, stranger, or you have come from far away,\nif you are asking about this land. And it is not at all\nso nameless; very many people know it,\nboth those who live toward the dawn and the sun,\nand those who live behind toward the misty darkness.\nIt is rugged and no good for horses,\nand not too poor either, but it is not broad either.\nFor in it there is grain beyond telling, and in it wine\ngrows; and rain always covers it, and flourishing dew;\nit is good for grazing goats and for grazing cattle; there is woodland\nof every kind, and in it there are watercourses that never fail.\nSo, stranger, the name of Ithaca has reached even to Troy,\nwhich they say is far from the land of Achaea.\nSo she spoke, and much-enduring godlike Odysseus was glad,\nrejoicing in his native land, as she told him,\nPallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis;\nand speaking he addressed her with winged words:\nBut he did not tell the truth, and he checked his words back again,\nalways turning in his breast a mind that looks for gain:\nI had heard of Ithaca even in broad Crete,\nfar across the sea; and now I myself have come\nwith these goods; and leaving as much again behind for my children\nI am a fugitive, because I killed the dear son of Idomeneus,\nOrsilochus swift of foot, who in broad Crete\nused to beat men who work for their bread with his swift feet,\nbecause he wanted to rob me of all the spoil\nfrom Troy, for which I suffered griefs in my heart,\npassing through wars of men and grievous waves,\nbecause I did not serve in the land of the Trojans to please his father,\nbut I led other comrades.\nHim, as he came down from the country, I hit with my bronze-tipped spear,\nlying in wait with a comrade near the road;\nand a very dark night held the sky, and no one\nof men noticed us, and I took his life unseen.\nBut when I had killed him with the sharp bronze,\nat once I went to the ship and begged the noble Phoenicians,\nand I gave them a spoil that pleased their hearts;\nI asked them to set me down and carry me to Pylos\nor to godlike Elis, where the Epeians rule.\nBut the force of the wind drove them away from there,\nmuch against their will, and they did not mean to cheat me.\nAnd driven off course from there, we came here by night.\nIn haste we rowed into the harbour, and none of us\nhad any thought of supper, though we badly needed to take it,\nbut just as we were, all of us lay down after getting off the ship.\nThere sweet sleep came over me as I lay wearied,\nand they took my goods out of the hollow ship\nand set them down where I myself was lying on the sand.\nAnd they, going aboard for well-peopled Sidon,\nsailed off; and I was left with an aching heart.\nSo he spoke, and the goddess bright-eyed Athena smiled,\nand stroked him with her hand; and she was like in form to a woman,\nbeautiful and tall, and skilled in glorious works;\nand speaking she addressed him with winged words:\nCrafty and thievish would that man be who could get past you\nin any kind of trick, even if a god came against you.\nHard one, of many wiles, never satisfied with tricks, you were not going\nto give up your deceits, not even when in your own land,\nor your thievish words, which are dear to you through and through.\nBut come, let us no longer talk about these things, since we both know\nabout cunning, since you are by far the best of all mortals\nin counsel and in speech, and I among all the gods\nam famous for wisdom and for cunning; and you did not recognize\nPallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, who always\nstands beside you in every labour and guards you,\nand made you dear to all the Phaeacians,\nand now I have come here, so that I may weave a plan with you\nand hide the goods which the noble Phaeacians\ngave you as you went homeward, by my counsel and my mind,\nand tell you all the troubles that fate says you must\nendure in your well-built halls; and you must endure them whether you like it or not,\nand not reveal it to anyone, neither man nor woman,\nof all people, that you have come wandering, but in silence\nendure many griefs, submitting to the violence of men.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her:\nIt is hard, goddess, for a mortal who meets you to know you,\neven for one who knows a great deal; for you make yourself like everything.\nBut this I know well, that you were kind to me before,\nwhile we sons of the Achaeans fought at Troy.\nBut when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,\nand went aboard the ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans,\nI did not see you after that, daughter of Zeus, nor did I notice\nyou boarding my ship, to ward off some grief from me.\nBut always holding a torn spirit in my own heart\nI wandered, until the gods freed me from misery;\nuntil, in the rich land of the Phaeacian men,\nyou encouraged me with words and you yourself led me to the city.\nBut now I beg you by your father, for I do not think\nthat I have come to clear-seen Ithaca, but that I am wandering over some other\nland; and I think you are mocking me\nwhen you say this, so that you may beguile my mind.\nTell me whether I have truly come to my dear native land.\nThen the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:\nYour breast always holds a thought like this;\nthat is why I cannot leave you in your misery,\nbecause you are gentle and quick-minded and sensible.\nFor gladly would another man, coming home after wandering,\nwant to see his children and his wife in his halls;\nbut it is not yet dear to you to learn or to ask about it,\nbefore you have made trial of your wife, who sits there just so\nin the halls, and for her the nights and the days\nare always wasted away in wretchedness as she sheds tears.\nBut I never disbelieved this, but in my heart\nI knew that you would come home after losing all your comrades;\nbut I did not want to fight with Poseidon,\nmy father's brother, who put wrath in his heart against you,\nangry because you blinded his dear son.\nBut come, I will show you the seat of Ithaca, so that you may believe it.\nThis is the harbour of Phorcys, the old man of the sea,\nand this at the head of the harbour is the long-leafed olive;\nand near it the lovely shadowy cave,\nsacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads;\nand this is the vaulted cave, where you\nused to offer many perfect hecatombs to the nymphs;\nand this is Mount Neriton, covered in forest.\nSo speaking, the goddess scattered the mist, and the land appeared;\nand much-enduring godlike Odysseus was glad,\nrejoicing in his land, and he kissed the life-giving earth.\nAt once he prayed to the nymphs, raising his hands:\nNymphs, Naiads, daughters of Zeus, I never\nthought I would see you; and now with gentle prayers\ngreetings; and we will give gifts too, as before,\nif the daughter of Zeus, driver of the spoil, willingly lets me\nboth live myself and raise up my dear son.\nThen the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:\nTake heart, do not let these things weigh on your mind.\nBut the goods, let us put them at once now\nin the recess of the wondrous cave, so that they may stay safe for you;\nand let us ourselves think how things may turn out for the best.\nSo speaking, the goddess went into the shadowy cave,\nsearching out the hiding places through the cave; and Odysseus\ncarried everything close, gold and unyielding bronze\nand well-made clothing, which the Phaeacians gave him.\nAnd he put them away well, and set a stone at the doors,\nPallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis.\nAnd the two of them, sitting beside the foot of the sacred olive,\nplanned destruction for the overbearing suitors.\nAnd the goddess bright-eyed Athena began the talk:\nZeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,\nthink how you will lay your hands on the shameless suitors,\nwho now for three years have lorded it in your hall,\nwooing your godlike wife and offering bride-gifts;\nand she, always mourning in her heart for your return,\nholds hope out to every one and promises each man,\nsending messages, but her mind wants other things.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her:\nWell now, I really was going to perish in my halls\nby the evil death of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,\nif you, goddess, had not told me every detail as it should be told.\nBut come, weave a plan, how I may take vengeance on them;\nand stand beside me yourself, putting much-daring might in me,\nsuch as when we loosed the shining battlements of Troy.\nIf you, so eager, would stand by me, bright-eyed one,\nthen I would fight even against three hundred men\nwith you, honoured goddess, whenever you readily help me.\nThen the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:\nIndeed I shall be there with you, and you will not escape my notice,\nwhen we busy ourselves with these things; and I think that some\nwill stain the boundless ground with blood and brains,\nthe suitors, who eat up your livelihood.\nBut come, I will make you unrecognized by all mortals;\nI will shrivel the fair skin on your supple limbs,\nand destroy the yellow hair from your head, and put round you a rag\nthat a man would hate to see anyone wearing,\nand I will dim your eyes, which were so very beautiful before,\nso that you may appear ugly to all the suitors\nand to your wife and child, whom you left in the halls.\nAnd do you first of all go to the swineherd,\nwho is the guardian of your pigs, and who feels kindly toward you,\nand loves your son and sensible Penelope.\nYou will find him sitting among the pigs; and they feed\nbeside the rock of Corax and the spring Arethusa,\neating the acorns they like and drinking the dark water,\nwhich makes the pigs grow a rich layer of fat.\nStay there and, sitting beside him, ask him everything,\nwhile I go to Sparta of fair women\nto call Telemachus, your dear son, Odysseus;\nwho has gone to spacious Lacedaemon, to Menelaus,\nto ask for news of you, in case you are still alive.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her:\nWhy then did you not tell him, you who know everything in your mind?\nWas it so that he too might wander and suffer griefs\nover the barren sea? And others eat up his substance?\nThen the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:\nDo not let him weigh too heavily on your mind.\nI myself was escorting him, so that he might win good fame\nby going there; and he has no trouble, but sits at his ease\nin the house of the son of Atreus, and endless gifts lie beside him.\nTruly the young men are lying in wait for him with a black ship,\neager to kill him before he reaches his native land;\nbut I do not think that will happen before the earth holds some one\nof the suitors, who eat up your livelihood.\nSo speaking, Athena touched him with her wand.\nShe shrivelled the fair skin on his supple limbs,\nand destroyed the yellow hair from his head, and over all his limbs\nshe put the skin of an old man,\nand dimmed his eyes, which were so very beautiful before;\nand she threw around him another foul rag and a tunic,\ntorn and dirty, blackened with foul smoke;\nand she dressed him in the great hide of a swift deer,\nbare of hair; and she gave him a staff and an ugly beggar's bag,\nall torn; and in it there was a twisted strap for a carrying cord.\nSo the two of them, having planned all this, parted. And she then\nwent to godlike Lacedaemon after the son of Odysseus.\n\n### Book 14\n\nBut he went up from the harbor by the rough path\nthrough the wooded land, over the heights, where Athena\nhad shown him the godlike swineherd, who cared most\nfor the livelihood of the slaves whom godlike Odysseus had acquired.\nShe found him sitting in the porch, where his courtyard\nhad been built high, in a place that could be seen from all around,\nfine and large, with a running space about it; the swineherd\nhad built it himself for the pigs while his master was away,\napart from the mistress and old Laertes,\nwith quarried stones, and he fenced it about with wild pear.\nOutside he drove stakes all the way through, here and there,\nthick and close-set, splitting the dark oak;\nand inside the courtyard he made twelve sties\nclose to one another, beds for the pigs; and in each\nfifty swine that sleep on the ground were penned,\nsows with young; but the boars slept outside,\nfar fewer; for the godlike suitors kept wearing them down by eating,\nsince the swineherd kept sending out\nalways the best of all the well-fed fatlings;\nand these were three hundred and sixty.\nAnd beside them four dogs, like wild beasts, always slept,\nfour, which the swineherd, leader of men, had reared.\nHe himself was fitting sandals about his feet,\ncutting a well-colored oxhide; and the others\nhad gone off each a different way with the gathered swine,\nthree of them; and he had sent the fourth to the city\nto drive a pig to the arrogant suitors, by necessity,\nso that when they had sacrificed they might satisfy their hearts with meat.\nSuddenly the barking dogs caught sight of Odysseus.\nThey ran at him with loud cries; but Odysseus\nsat down in his cunning, and the staff fell from his hand.\nThere he would have suffered shameful pain beside his own farmstead;\nbut the swineherd quickly followed with swift feet\nand rushed through the doorway, and the hide fell from his hand.\nHe shouted at them and drove the dogs off this way and that\nwith a shower of stones; and he spoke to his master:\nOld man, the dogs nearly tore you apart\nall at once, and you would have poured reproach on me.\nAnd the gods have given me other sorrows and groanings besides;\nfor mourning and grieving for my godlike master\nI sit here, and I fatten fat pigs for others\nto eat; but he, longing somewhere for food,\nwanders through the land and city of men of other tongues,\nif perhaps he still lives and sees the light of the sun.\nBut come, let us go to the hut, old man, so that you too,\nonce you have satisfied your heart with bread and wine,\nmay tell me where you are from and how many sorrows you have endured.\nSo he spoke, and the godlike swineherd led the way to the hut,\nand brought him in and seated him, and spread shaggy brushwood beneath him,\nand spread over it the skin of a wild shaggy goat,\na bed of his own, large and shaggy. And Odysseus rejoiced\nthat he had received him so, and he spoke a word and addressed him:\nMay Zeus grant you, stranger, and the other immortal gods,\nwhatever you most wish, since you received me kindly.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nStranger, it is not right for me, not even if a worse man than you came,\nto dishonor a stranger; for all strangers\nand beggars are from Zeus; and a gift, though small, is dear\nwhen it comes from us; for such is the way of slaves\nwho are always in fear, when the young masters hold power.\nFor truly the gods have bound his homecoming,\nthe man who would have loved me warmly and given me possessions,\na house and an estate and a much-courted wife,\nsuch as a kind master gives to his own slave\nwho has toiled much for him, and a god increases his work,\njust as this work of mine increases, and I stay on at it.\nSo my master would have greatly benefited me, if he had grown old here;\nbut he perished — how I wish the race of Helen had perished\nutterly, since she loosened the knees of many men;\nfor he too went, for the honor of Agamemnon,\nto horse-rich Troy, to fight the Trojans.\nSo he spoke, and quickly girded his tunic with a belt,\nand went to the sties, where herds of pigs were penned.\nFrom there he took two and brought them, and sacrificed both,\nand singed them and cut them up and pierced them on spits.\nAnd when he had roasted them all, he brought them and set them before Odysseus\nhot on the spits themselves; and he sprinkled white barley over them;\nand in a wooden bowl he mixed honey-sweet wine,\nand he himself sat down opposite him, and urged him on, saying:\nEat now, stranger, what the slaves have here,\nyoung pigs; but the fat hogs the suitors eat,\nwith no thought of mercy or pity in their minds.\nThe blessed gods do not love cruel deeds,\nbut they honor justice and the righteous works of men.\nAnd even hostile and wicked men, who come to the land\nof others and Zeus grants them plunder,\nand they go back with their ships full, homeward,\neven on them a strong fear of vengeance falls in their hearts.\nBut these men know something, having heard a divine voice,\nof that man's wretched destruction, since they do not wish to court\nrightly or to go home to their own lands, but at ease\nthey devour his possessions with violence, and there is no restraint.\nFor as many nights and days as come from Zeus,\nthey never sacrifice one victim, not even two alone;\nand they waste his wine, drawing it off in violence.\nFor truly his wealth was unspeakable; no man of the heroes\nhad so much, neither on the dark mainland\nnor on Ithaca itself; not even twenty men together\nhave such wealth; but I will recount it to you.\nTwelve herds on the mainland; that many flocks of sheep,\nthat many herds of pigs, that many broad flocks of goats\ndo strangers and his own herdsmen feed.\nAnd here eleven broad flocks of goats in all\ngraze at the border, and good men watch over them.\nOf these each man daily brings in a beast,\nwhichever of the well-fed goats seems best.\nAnd I myself guard and protect these pigs,\nand I pick out the best of the pigs carefully and send it off.\nSo he spoke, and Odysseus ate the meat eagerly and drank the wine\ngreedily in silence, and was plotting evil for the suitors.\nBut when he had dined and fitted his heart with food,\nand he filled a cup for him, the one he himself drank from,\nfull of wine, he took it and rejoiced in his heart,\nand spoke to him and addressed him with winged words:\nMy friend, who bought you with his own goods,\nso very rich and powerful as you say?\nYou say he perished for the honor of Agamemnon.\nTell me, in case I somehow know of such a man.\nFor Zeus surely knows it, and the other immortal gods,\nif I might report him after seeing him; and I have wandered far.\nAnd the swineherd answered him then, leader of men:\nOld man, no man who has come wandering\nand reporting could persuade that man's wife and dear son,\nbut men who are wanderers in need of a living lie in vain,\nand they do not wish to tell the truth.\nAnd whoever comes wandering to the land of Ithaca,\ngoes to my mistress and speaks deceitful things;\nand she receives him well and loves him and asks him everything,\nand as she mourns tears fall from her eyelids,\nas is the way of a woman, when her husband has perished elsewhere.\nYou too, old man, would quickly fashion a story,\nif someone gave you a cloak and tunic and clothing.\nBut the swift dogs and birds have by now\ntorn the hide from his bones, and his life has left him;\nor fish have eaten him in the sea, and his bones\nlie on the mainland, wrapped in much sand.\nSo he has perished there, and grief for the future has been\nprepared for all his dear ones, and most of all for me; for never again\nshall I find another master so gentle, wherever I go,\nnot even if I came back to the house of my father and mother,\nwhere I was first born and they themselves raised me.\nNor do I mourn for them as much as that, though I long\nto see them with my eyes while I am in my native land;\nbut longing for Odysseus, who is gone, seizes me.\nHim, stranger, though he is absent, I am ashamed\nnot to name; for he loved me exceedingly and cared for me in his heart;\nbut I call him my dear one even though he is far away.\nAnd much-enduring godlike Odysseus spoke to him again:\nMy friend, since you utterly refuse and no longer say\nthat he will come, and your heart is always distrustful;\nbut I will not speak idly, but with an oath,\nthat Odysseus is coming; and let there be a reward for good news for me\nat once, when that man comes and reaches his home;\nthat you clothe me in cloak and tunic, fine clothing;\nbut before that, though I am in great need, I would take nothing.\nFor that man is as hateful to me as the gates of Hades,\nwho, yielding to poverty, speaks deceitful things.\nLet Zeus know this now, first of the gods, and the table of hospitality,\nand the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have come to;\ntruly all these things will be accomplished as I say.\nIn this very year Odysseus will come here,\nas this month wanes and the next begins,\nand he will come home, and he will punish whoever\ndishonors his wife and glorious son here.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nOld man, I will not pay this reward for good news,\nnor will Odysseus ever come home again; but at ease\ndrink, and let us remember other things, and do not\nremind me of these things; for my heart in my breast\ngrieves whenever someone mentions my trusty master.\nBut let us leave the oath aside, and may Odysseus\ncome, however I wish it, and Penelope\nand old Laertes and godlike Telemachus.\nNow again I mourn for the son whom Odysseus begot,\nTelemachus; when the gods had raised him like a sapling,\nI thought he would be among men in no way inferior\nto his own dear father, wondrous in body and form;\nbut some one of the immortals harmed the wise mind within him,\nor some man; and he went to hear news of his father\nto holy Pylos; and the noble suitors\nlie in wait for him as he comes home, so that the race\nof godlike Arcesius may perish nameless from Ithaca.\nBut let us leave that man alone, whether he be caught\nor escape, and the son of Cronos hold his hand over him.\nBut come, you, old man, tell me your own sorrows\nand tell me this truly, so that I may know it well:\nWho are you, and from where among men? Where is your city and your parents?\nAnd on what kind of ship did you come? How did the sailors\nbring you to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be?\nFor I do not think you came here on foot.\nAnd resourceful Odysseus answered him:\nThen I will tell you these things very exactly.\nIf only we two had food for a time, and\nsweet wine, while we sit inside the hut,\nand feast in silence, and others go about their work;\neasily then for a whole year\nI could not finish telling of the sorrows of my heart,\nall that I have suffered by the will of the gods.\nI declare that I am by birth from broad Crete,\nthe son of a wealthy man; and many other\nsons were raised in his hall and were born\nlegitimate from his wife; but a bought mother bore me,\na concubine, yet Castor, son of Hylax, honored me\nequally with his true-born sons, and I declare I am of his line,\nwho at that time among the Cretans was honored like a god by the people\nfor his prosperity and wealth and glorious sons.\nBut the fates came and brought him death\nto the house of Hades; and his sons divided his living\nin their pride and cast lots for it,\nand they gave me very little and assigned me a house.\nBut I married a wife from men of many possessions\nbecause of my own excellence, since I was not worthless\nnor one to shun war; but now all that has left me,\nand yet I think that you, looking at the stubble,\nrecognize it; for truly great misery holds me.\nTruly Ares and Athena gave me courage\nand the power to break through ranks; whenever I picked\nthe best men for an ambush, plotting evil for the enemy,\nmy proud heart never foresaw death for me,\nbut far the first I leaped out and killed with my spear\nwhichever of the enemy gave way to my feet.\nSuch was I in war; but work was not dear to me,\nnor care of the household, which raises glorious children,\nbut always dear to me were ships with oars\nand wars and well-polished spears and arrows,\nwretched things, which to others are dreadful.\nBut I loved the things that some god put in my heart;\nfor one man takes pleasure in one kind of work, another in another.\nFor before the sons of the Achaeans set foot on Troy\nI had led nine men and swift-sailing ships\nagainst foreign peoples, and it went very well for me.\nOf these I chose out what pleased me, and much besides\nI got by lot; and quickly my house grew, and then\nI became feared and respected among the Cretans.\nBut when Zeus who sees far had willed that hateful journey,\nthe one that loosened the knees of many men,\nthen they commanded me and glorious Idomeneus\nto lead ships to Ilion; and there was no way\nto refuse, for the people's talk was harsh.\nThere for nine years we sons of the Achaeans fought,\nand in the tenth we sacked the city of Priam and went\nhome with our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans.\nBut for wretched me counsellor Zeus planned evil;\nfor I stayed only a month, taking pleasure in my children\nand my wedded wife and my possessions; and then\nmy heart urged me to sail to Egypt,\nafter fitting out my ships well with godlike companions.\nI fitted out nine ships, and the men quickly gathered.\nFor six days then my trusty companions\nfeasted; and I provided many victims\nboth to sacrifice to the gods and to make a feast for themselves.\nAnd on the seventh we embarked from broad Crete\nand sailed with the north wind, clear and fair,\neasily, as if down with the current; and none of my\nships was harmed, but unharmed and free of sickness\nwe sat, and the wind and the helmsmen steered them.\nOn the fifth day we reached fair-flowing Egypt,\nand I moored my curved ships in the Egyptian river.\nThen I ordered my trusty companions\nto stay there beside the ships and guard them,\nand I urged watchers to go up to the lookouts;\nbut they, yielding to arrogance, following their own fury,\nat once laid waste the very beautiful fields of the Egyptian men,\nand carried off the women and little children,\nand killed the men themselves; and quickly the cry reached the city.\nAnd they, hearing the shouting at the appearing of dawn,\ncame; and the whole plain was filled with footmen and horses\nand the gleam of bronze; and Zeus who delights in thunder\nthrew foul panic among my companions, and none dared\nstand and face them; for evils stood all around them.\nThere they killed many of us with the sharp bronze,\nand led others away alive, to work for them by force.\nBut Zeus himself put this thought in my mind —\nhow I wish I had died and met my doom\nright there in Egypt — for still more trouble was waiting for me —\nat once I took the well-made helmet off my head\nand the shield from my shoulders, and threw the spear from my hand;\nand I went in front of the king's horses\nand clasped and kissed his knees; and he saved me and pitied me,\nand set me on his chariot and took me home while I wept.\nTruly many came at me with spears,\neager to kill me — for they were very angry —\nbut he held them off, for he feared the wrath of Zeus,\nthe god of guests, who is most indignant at evil deeds.\nThere I stayed seven years, and gathered much\nwealth among the Egyptian people; for they all gave.\nBut when the eighth year came round for me,\nthen a Phoenician man came, a man skilled in deceit,\na cheat, who had done much evil to men;\nhe persuaded me with his cunning to go with him\nto Phoenicia, where his house and possessions were.\nThere I stayed with him until a full year ended.\nBut when the months and days were completed\nas the year rolled round and the seasons came on,\nhe set me on a sea-crossing ship for Libya\nafter plotting lies, so that I might carry goods for him,\nand that he might sell me there and win unspeakable profit.\nI went with him onto the ship, though I suspected, by force.\nShe ran with the north wind, clear and fair,\npast the middle of Crete; but Zeus was planning destruction for them.\nBut when we had left Crete behind and no other land\nappeared, only sky and sea,\nthen the son of Cronos set a dark cloud\nabove the hollow ship, and the sea grew murky beneath it.\nAnd Zeus thundered at once and hurled a lightning bolt at the ship;\nshe shuddered all over, struck by the bolt of Zeus,\nand was filled with sulfur; and all fell from the ship.\nThey, like cormorants, around the black ship\nwere borne by the waves; and the god took away their homecoming.\nBut to me, though I had sorrow in my heart, Zeus himself\ngave the great mast of the dark-prowed ship\nin my hands, so that I might still escape ruin.\nClinging to it I was carried by the deadly winds.\nFor nine days I was carried, and on the tenth dark night\na great rolling wave brought me to the land of the Thesprotians.\nThere Phidon, king of the Thesprotians, took me in,\na hero, without ransom; for his dear son came upon me\novercome by cold and weariness and led me to his house,\nraising me up by the hand, until he reached his father's house;\nand he clothed me in cloak and tunic and clothing.\nThere I heard about Odysseus; for he said\nhe had entertained and loved him when he came to his native land,\nand he showed me the possessions that Odysseus had gathered,\nbronze and gold and much-wrought iron.\nAnd it would feed even another for ten generations;\nso many treasures of the master lay in his halls.\nAnd he said he had gone to Dodona, so that he might hear\nfrom the god's tall-leafed oak the counsel of Zeus,\nhow he should return to the rich land of Ithaca,\nafter being away so long, openly or in secret.\nAnd he swore to me himself, pouring a libation in his house,\nthat a ship was drawn down and companions were ready,\nwho would send him to his dear native land.\nBut he sent me away first; for a ship happened to come\nof Thesprotian men to grain-rich Dulichium.\nThere he told them to send me carefully\nto king Acastus; but they pleased their minds with an evil plan\nconcerning me, so that I might fall into still more misery.\nBut when the sea-crossing ship had sailed far from land,\nat once they contrived a day of slavery for me.\nThey stripped off my cloak and tunic and clothing,\nand threw around me another wretched rag and a tunic,\ntorn, which you yourself see with your eyes;\nand at evening they came to the fields of bright Ithaca.\nThere they bound me in the well-benched ship\nwith a well-twisted rope, tightly, and they themselves went ashore\nin haste and took their supper beside the shore of the sea.\nBut the gods themselves loosened the bond for me\neasily; and wrapping a rag over my head,\nI slid down the smooth lading-plank and pressed my breast\nto the sea, and then I swam with both hands\nswimming, and very quickly I was out and away from them.\nThen I went up to where there was a thicket of flowering wood,\nand lay there crouched. And they, groaning greatly,\nwent up and down; but since no profit appeared to them\nin searching further, they went back again\nonto the hollow ship; and the gods themselves hid me\neasily, and led me and brought me to the farmstead\nof a man who knew his craft; for it was still my fate to live.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nAh, wretched stranger, you have greatly stirred my heart\nby telling all these things that you have suffered and wandered through.\nBut that, I think, is not in order, and you will not persuade me\nby speaking about Odysseus; why should you, being such a man,\nlie idly? I myself well know\nthe homecoming of my master, how he was hated by all the gods\nutterly, since they did not kill him among the Trojans\nor in the arms of his friends, when he had finished the war.\nThen all the Achaeans would have made him a tomb,\nand he would have won great glory for his son in the future;\nbut now the harpies snatched him away without glory.\nBut I stay apart among the pigs; and I do not\ngo to the city, unless perhaps wise Penelope\nurges me to come, when some report comes from somewhere.\nBut those who sit here ask about each thing,\nboth those who grieve that the master is long gone,\nand those who rejoice, eating his substance for nothing.\nBut it is not my pleasure to ask questions and inquire,\never since an Aetolian man deceived me with a story,\nwho, after killing a man, had wandered over much land,\ncame to my house; and I welcomed him warmly.\nHe said he had seen him among the Cretans at Idomeneus' side,\nrepairing his ships, which the storms had shattered;\nand he said he would come either in summer or in autumn,\nbringing much wealth, with godlike companions.\nAnd you, old man of many sorrows, since a god has brought you to me,\ndo not gratify me with lies nor charm me in anything;\nfor it is not for that reason that I will respect or love you,\nbut because I fear Zeus the god of guests and pity you myself.\nAnd resourceful Odysseus answered him:\nTruly the heart in your breast is very distrustful,\nsince I could not move you even with an oath, nor persuade you.\nBut come now, let us make an agreement; and hereafter\nlet the gods who hold Olympus be witnesses for us both.\nIf your master returns to this house,\nthat you clothe me in cloak and tunic and send me\nto go to Dulichium, where it was dear to my heart;\nbut if your master does not come, as I say,\nthen set your slaves on me and throw me down a great cliff,\nso that even another beggar will avoid deception.\nAnd the godlike swineherd answered him:\nStranger, then it would be good repute and virtue for me\namong men, both at once and afterwards,\nif, after I brought you into my hut and gave you guest-gifts,\nI then killed you and took away your dear life;\ngladly then I would pray to Zeus, son of Cronos.\nBut now it is time for supper; may my companions be inside\nas quickly as possible, so that we may prepare a tasty supper in the hut.\nSo they spoke such things to one another,\nand the pigs and the swineherd men came near.\nThey penned the sows to sleep in their usual places,\nand an unspeakable squealing rose from the pigs as they were penned;\nand the godlike swineherd called out to his companions:\nBring in the best of the pigs, so that I may sacrifice it for the stranger\nfrom far away; and we ourselves will benefit too, who for so long\nhave had misery to suffer because of the white-tusked pigs;\nbut others eat our labor for nothing.\nSo he spoke and split wood with the pitiless bronze,\nand they brought in a pig, very fat, five years old.\nThen they stood it by the hearth; and the swineherd\ndid not forget the immortals; for he had good sense in his mind;\nbut he made a beginning and threw into the fire the hairs from the head\nof the white-tusked pig, and prayed to all the gods\nthat wise Odysseus might come home to this house.\nHe raised himself up and struck it with a split of oak, which he had left lying;\nand its life left it. And they cut its throat and singed it;\nand quickly they cut it up; and the swineherd began to set aside the raw pieces,\nbeginning from all the limbs, into the rich fat,\nand threw some into the fire, sprinkled with barley meal,\nand they cut up the rest and pierced it on spits,\nand roasted it carefully and drew it all off,\nand threw it all together onto platters; and the swineherd\nstood up to carve; for he knew what was right in his mind.\nAnd he divided it all into seven portions, cutting it up:\none portion he set aside for the nymphs and Hermes, son of Maia,\nwith a prayer, and he gave the others to each man;\nand he honored Odysseus with the continuous chine bones\nof the white-tusked pig, and gladdened the heart of his master;\nand resourceful Odysseus spoke to him and addressed him:\nMay you be as dear to father Zeus, Eumaeus,\nas you are to me, since you honor me, such as I am, with good things.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nEat, strange guest, and take pleasure in these things,\nsuch as there are; and a god will give one thing and allow another to pass,\nwhatever he wishes in his heart; for he can do all things.\nHe spoke and offered the first fruits to the ever-living gods,\nand after pouring a libation of flaming wine he put it\nin the hands of Odysseus, sacker of cities; and he sat down by his own portion.\nAnd Mesaulius served them bread, whom the swineherd\nhad himself acquired on his own while his master was away,\napart from the mistress and old Laertes;\nhe had bought him from the Taphians with his own goods.\nAnd they reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.\nBut when they had put away the desire for drink and food,\nMesaulius took away the bread, and they hurried to bed,\nsatisfied with bread and meat.\nAnd a dreadful night came on, moonless, and Zeus rained\nall night, and a great wet west wind blew.\nAnd Odysseus spoke among them, testing the swineherd,\nwhether he might somehow get him to give a cloak after taking off his own, or urge\none of his companions to do it, since he cared for him greatly:\nListen now, Eumaeus, and all you other companions,\nI will speak a word as a boast; for wine bids me,\nthe foolish wine, which makes even a very wise man sing\nand laugh softly, and makes him dance,\nand brings out a word that it would be better to leave unsaid.\nBut since I have cried out, I will not hide it.\nIf only I were young again and my strength were firm,\nas when we led an ambush set in order beneath Troy.\nOdysseus and Atreus' son Menelaus led it,\nand I was third in command with them; for they themselves asked me.\nBut when we came to the steep walled city,\nwe lay around the city in the thick bushes,\namong reeds and marsh, crouching under our armor,\nand lay there. And a dreadful night came on with the north wind falling,\nfrosty; and above us snow came like frost,\ncold, and ice formed around the shields.\nThen all the others had cloaks and tunics,\nand slept at ease, wrapped in their shields over their shoulders;\nbut I, in my folly, had left my cloak with my companions\nwhen I went, since I did not think I would freeze anyway,\nbut I followed with only my shield and a shining belt.\nBut when it was the third watch of the night, and the stars had passed by,\nthen I spoke to Odysseus, who was near,\nnudging him with my elbow; and he heard at once:\nSon of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, resourceful Odysseus,\nI will no longer be among the living, but the cold\nis killing me; for I have no cloak; some god tricked me\ninto coming with only a tunic; and now there is no escape.\nSo I spoke, and he then had this thought in his mind,\nsuch was he at planning and fighting;\nand speaking in a low voice he said a word to me:\nBe quiet now, in case some other Achaean hears you.\nAnd he held his head up on his elbow and spoke a word:\nListen, friends; a divine dream came to me in my sleep.\nFor we have gone too far from the ships; but let someone\ngo and tell Atreus' son Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,\nto urge more of his men to come from the ships.\nSo he spoke, and then Thoas, the son of Andraemon, rose up\nquickly, and threw off his purple cloak,\nand set off running to the ships; and I lay down\ngladly in his clothing, and gold-throned Dawn shone.\nIf only I were young now and my strength were firm;\nthen someone in the swineherds' farmstead would give me a cloak,\nboth out of friendship and respect for a good man;\nbut now they dishonor me because I wear wretched clothes.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nOld man, the tale you have told is blameless,\nand you have not said a profitless word out of place;\nso you will not lack clothing or anything else\nthat it is fitting for a sufferer who comes as a suppliant to receive,\nat least for now; but in the morning you will shake out your rags.\nFor there are not many cloaks or tunics to change into\nhere to wear, but only one for each man.\nBut when the dear son of Odysseus comes,\nhe himself will give you cloak and tunic and clothing,\nand send you wherever your heart and spirit bid you.\nSo he spoke and sprang up, and placed near the fire\na bed for him, and threw over it the skins of sheep and goats.\nThere Odysseus lay down; and he threw over him a cloak,\nthick and large, which he kept as a change,\nto wear whenever some terrible storm arose.\nSo Odysseus slept there, and beside him\nthe young men slept; but the swineherd\ndid not like to sleep there, away from the pigs,\nbut he went outside and armed himself; and Odysseus rejoiced,\nbecause he cared greatly for his livelihood while he was away.\nFirst he threw his sharp sword over his sturdy shoulders,\nand wrapped around him a windproof cloak, very thick,\nand took a shaggy covering of a large well-fed goat,\nand took a sharp spear, a defense against dogs and men.\nAnd he went to lie down where the white-tusked pigs\nslept under the hollow rock, sheltered from the north wind.\n\n### Book 15\n\nBut Pallas Athena went to wide Lacedaemon,\nto remind the glorious son of great-hearted Odysseus\nof his homecoming and urge him to come back.\nShe found Telemachus and the shining son of Nestor\nasleep in the forecourt of glorious Menelaus,\nthe son of Nestor overcome by soft sleep;\nbut sweet sleep did not hold Telemachus; through the immortal night\nhis worries about his father kept him awake in his heart.\nStanding close by, bright-eyed Athena said to him:\nTelemachus, it is no longer good for you to wander far from home,\nleaving your property and men in your house who are\nso arrogant; they may eat up all your property,\ndividing it among themselves, and you may come home on a wasted journey.\nBut quickly urge good-at-the-battle-cry Menelaus\nto send you, so you may still find your blameless mother at home.\nFor already her father and brothers are telling her\nto marry Eurymachus; for he outdoes all\nthe suitors with gifts and has raised his bride-price;\nin case something is carried out of your house against your will.\nFor you know what a woman's mind is like in her breast;\nshe wants to build up the house of the man she marries,\nbut her earlier children and her beloved husband who has died\nshe no longer remembers or asks about.\nBut you should go and put each matter in the charge\nof whichever of the maids seems best to you,\nuntil the gods show you a glorious wife.\nAnd I will tell you another thing; take it to heart.\nThe leading suitors are deliberately lying in wait for you\nin the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos,\nwanting to kill you before you reach your homeland.\nBut I do not think that will happen; the earth will first hold\nsome of those suitor men who are eating up your livelihood.\nBut keep your well-built ship far away from the islands,\nand sail by night as well; someone will send you a fair wind from behind,\nwhichever of the immortals guards and protects you.\nBut when you reach the first shore of Ithaca,\nsend the ship and all your comrades to the city,\nbut first go yourself to the swineherd,\nwho is the keeper of your pigs and is kindly disposed to you.\nSpend the night there; send him into the city\nto carry the message to sensible Penelope,\nthat you are safe and have come back from Pylos.\nSo she spoke and went off to steep Olympus,\nbut he woke the son of Nestor from sweet sleep,\nnudging him with his foot, and said a word to him:\nWake up, Pisistratus, son of Nestor; yoke the single-hoofed horses\nand bring them under the chariot, so we can set out on our way.\nThen Pisistratus, son of Nestor, answered him:\nTelemachus, there is no way, eager as we are for the journey,\nto drive through the dark night; dawn will come soon.\nBut wait until the hero son of Atreus brings gifts and puts them in the chariot,\nMenelaus famous for the spear,\nand with gentle words encourages you and sends you off.\nFor a guest remembers every day\nthe man who hosted him, if he shows him friendship.\nSo he spoke, and at once golden-throned Dawn came.\nGood-at-the-battle-cry Menelaus came up to them,\ngetting up from his bed, next to fair-haired Helen.\nWhen the dear son of Odysseus noticed him,\nhe hurried to pull a shining tunic over his skin,\nand threw a great cloak over his sturdy shoulders,\nthe hero, and went outside, and standing beside him spoke\nTelemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus:\nSon of Atreus, Menelaus, raised by Zeus, leader of the people,\nnow send me off to my dear homeland;\nfor my heart already longs to get home.\nThen good-at-the-battle-cry Menelaus answered him:\nTelemachus, I will not keep you here a long time\nwhen you long for home; I would blame any other man too\nwho is a host, whether he loves a guest too much\nor hates him too much; better is everything in due measure.\nIt is equally bad, whether a man urges a guest to leave who does not want to,\nor holds back one who is eager.\nOne should love a guest while he is there, and send him on when he wants to go.\nBut wait until I bring gifts and put them in the chariot,\nfine ones, so you see them with your own eyes, and I tell the women\nto prepare a meal in the halls, with plenty of what is inside.\nIt is both glory and splendor and profit\nto set out over the wide boundless earth after eating.\nBut if you want to turn aside through Hellas and the middle of Argos,\nso that I myself may go with you and yoke the horses for you,\nand lead you to the cities of men; no one will send us\noff empty-handed, but will give us something to carry away,\neither some well-made bronze tripod or a cauldron,\nor two mules, or a golden cup.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nSon of Atreus, Menelaus, raised by Zeus, leader of the people,\nI want to go now to my own home; for I did not leave any\nguardian behind over my property when I set out;\nin case, while looking for my godlike father, I myself die,\nor some good treasure of mine is lost from the halls.\nWhen good-at-the-battle-cry Menelaus heard this,\nhe at once told his wife and the maids\nto prepare a meal in the halls, with plenty of what was inside.\nEteoneus, son of Boethous, came up to him,\ngetting up from his bed, for he lived not far from him;\ngood-at-the-battle-cry Menelaus told him to light a fire\nand roast meat; and he did not disobey when he heard.\nHe himself went down into the fragrant storeroom,\nnot alone, but Helen and Megapenthes went with him.\nBut when they came to where the treasures were kept,\nthe son of Atreus took a two-handled cup,\nand told his son Megapenthes to carry a mixing bowl\nof silver; and Helen stood beside the chests,\nwhere the richly embroidered robes were that she herself had made.\nHelen, shining among women, lifted one of them and carried it,\nthe one that was most beautiful in its embroidery and the largest,\nand it shone like a star; it lay at the bottom of the others.\nThey went on forward through the house until they came\nto Telemachus; and fair-haired Menelaus said to him:\nTelemachus, as for your homecoming, just as your heart desires it,\nso may Zeus bring it about, the loud-thundering husband of Hera.\nAnd of the gifts, all the treasures that lie in my house,\nI will give you the one that is most beautiful and most prized.\nI will give you a well-made mixing bowl; it is all\nof silver, and its rim is inlaid with gold,\nthe work of Hephaestus; the shining hero gave it to me,\nthe king of the Sidonians, when his house sheltered me\nthere as I was coming home; and I want to give it to you.\nSo saying, he put the two-handled cup into his hand,\nthe hero son of Atreus; and mighty Megapenthes brought and set\nthe shining mixing bowl down in front of him,\nof silver; and fair-cheeked Helen stood beside him\nholding the robe in her hands, and spoke a word and called him by name:\nThis gift I too give you, dear child,\na keepsake of Helen's own hands, for the time of your much-desired marriage,\nfor your wife to wear; for now let it lie in the hall\nbeside your dear mother. And may you come with joy\nto your well-built house and your homeland.\nSo she spoke and put it into his hands, and he took it with joy.\nAnd the hero Pisistratus put these things into the basket,\ntaking them, and admired them all in his heart;\nand fair-haired Menelaus led them to the house.\nThen they sat down on the couches and chairs.\nA handmaid brought water for washing and poured it from a pitcher,\na fine golden one, over a silver basin,\nfor them to wash; and she set a polished table beside them.\nAnd the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,\nputting many dishes before them, giving them freely of what was there;\nand the son of Boethous carved the meat and handed out the portions;\nand the son of glorious Menelaus poured the wine.\nAnd they reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.\nBut when they had had enough of drink and food,\nthen Telemachus and the shining son of Nestor\nyoked the horses and climbed onto the inlaid chariot,\nand drove out through the gateway and the echoing portico.\nAnd fair-haired Menelaus, son of Atreus, went with them,\nholding honey-sweet wine in his right hand,\nin a golden cup, so they could pour a libation and go.\nHe stood in front of the horses and spoke to them, greeting them:\nFarewell, young men, and give this message to Nestor, shepherd of the people;\nfor he was as kind to me as a father\nwhile we sons of the Achaeans were fighting at Troy.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nYes indeed, raised by Zeus, all these things you say\nwe will tell him when we get there; and how I wish that I,\ncoming home to Ithaca and finding Odysseus in his house,\ncould tell him that I come from you having received every kindness\nand bringing many good treasures.\nAs he was speaking, a bird flew on the right,\nan eagle carrying a huge white goose in its talons,\na tame one from the yard; and the men and women followed, shouting,\nand coming near them\nit swooped to the right in front of the horses; and when they saw it\nthey rejoiced, and the spirit in all their hearts was warmed.\nAnd Pisistratus, son of Nestor, began speaking among them:\nConsider, Menelaus, raised by Zeus, leader of the people,\nwhether a god has shown this sign to us two or to you yourself.\nSo he spoke, and Menelaus, dear to Ares, wondered\nhow he might answer him properly, once he had thought it out.\nBut long-robed Helen spoke first and said this:\nListen to me; and I will prophesy, as the immortals\nput it in my heart, and as I think it will come true.\nJust as this eagle snatched the goose that was raised in the house,\ncoming from the mountain, where its family and birth are,\nso Odysseus, after suffering many troubles and wandering much,\nwill come home and take revenge; or else he is already\nat home, and is planting ruin for all the suitors.\nThen wise Telemachus answered her:\nMay Zeus bring that about now, the loud-thundering husband of Hera;\nthen I would pray to you even there as to a god.\nHe spoke, and struck the horses with the whip; and they very quickly\nrushed eagerly through the town toward the plain.\nAll day long they shook the yoke they kept around them.\nThe sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;\nand they came to Pherae, to the house of Diocles,\nthe son of Ortilochus, whom the Alpheus fathered.\nThere they spent the night, and he set out guest-gifts for them.\nWhen early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthey yoked the horses and climbed onto the inlaid chariot,\nand drove out through the gateway and the echoing portico;\nhe struck them to drive, and the two flew along, not unwilling.\nAnd soon they reached the steep citadel of Pylos;\nand then Telemachus spoke to the son of Nestor:\nSon of Nestor, how would you promise me and carry out\nwhat I ask? For we claim to be guest-friends always,\nfrom our fathers' friendship, and we are also of the same age;\nand this journey will bring us even more to the same mind.\nDo not drive past the ship with me, raised by Zeus, but leave me here,\nin case the old man holds me back against my will in his house,\neager to show me love; but I need to get home sooner.\nSo he spoke, and the son of Nestor thought it over in his heart,\nhow he might promise and carry it out properly.\nAnd as he thought, it seemed better to him\nto turn the horses toward the swift ship and the shore of the sea,\nand at the ship's stern he unloaded the fine gifts,\nclothing and gold, which Menelaus had given him;\nand urging him on he spoke winged words:\nGet aboard now in haste and tell all your comrades to,\nbefore I get home and report to the old man.\nFor I know this well in my mind and heart:\nhis spirit is so violent that he will not let you go,\nbut he will come here himself to call you, and I say he will not\ngo back empty; for he will be very angry anyway.\nSo saying, he drove the fair-maned horses\nback to the city of the Pylians, and quickly reached the house.\nAnd Telemachus urged on his comrades and told them:\nArrange the gear, comrades, in the black ship,\nand let us go aboard ourselves, so we can set out on our way.\nSo he spoke, and they listened to him and obeyed,\nand quickly went aboard and sat down at the benches.\nHe was busy with this and praying, and sacrificing to Athena\nbeside the ship's stern; and a man came near him\nfrom a far country, fleeing from Argos after killing a man,\na seer; and by birth he was a descendant of Melampus,\nwho once lived in Pylos, mother of flocks,\na wealthy man living in a house far greater than the Pylians';\nbut then he came to the land of other people, fleeing his homeland\nand great-hearted Neleus, the most splendid of living men,\nwho kept much of his wealth for a whole year\nby force. But he meanwhile, in the halls of Phylacus,\nwas bound in painful bonds, suffering terrible pains\nbecause of the daughter of Neleus and a heavy disaster,\nwhich the dreaded Fury, the goddess, put into his mind.\nBut he escaped death and drove the loud-bellowing cattle\nto Pylos from Phylace, and took revenge for the shameful deed\non godlike Neleus, and brought the woman as a wife to his brother's\nhouse. And he came to the land of other people,\nto horse-pasturing Argos; for there it was fated for him\nto live, ruling over many Argives.\nThere he married a wife and built a high-roofed house,\nand fathered Antiphates and Mantius, two mighty sons.\nAntiphates fathered great-hearted Oicles,\nand Oicles fathered Amphiaraus, rouser of the people,\nwhom aegis-bearing Zeus and Apollo loved with all their heart\nin every kind of friendship; he did not reach the threshold of old age,\nbut died in Thebes because of a woman's gifts.\nHis sons were Alcmaeon and Amphilochus.\nMantius in turn fathered Polypheides and Cleitus;\nbut golden-throned Dawn snatched Cleitus away\nbecause of his beauty, so that he might be among the immortals;\nand Apollo made proud Polypheides a seer,\nby far the best of mortals, after Amphiaraus died;\nwho moved away to Hyperesia in anger at his father,\nand living there he prophesied for all mortals.\nHis son came there, and his name was Theoclymenus,\nwho then stood near Telemachus; and he found him\npouring libations and praying beside the swift black ship,\nand he spoke to him and addressed him with winged words:\nDear friend, since I find you sacrificing in this place,\nI beg you by the offerings and the god, and then\nby your own head and the comrades who follow you,\ntell me the truth when I ask, and do not hide it:\nWho are you among men, and where are you from? Where is your city and your parents?\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nThen I will tell you, stranger, quite exactly.\nBy birth I am from Ithaca, and my father is Odysseus,\nif he ever existed; but now he has died by a wretched death.\nThat is why I now took comrades and a black ship\nand came to ask about my father, long gone from home.\nThen godlike Theoclymenus said to him:\nSo I too am from my homeland, having killed a man\nof my own people; and there are many brothers and kinsmen\nthroughout horse-pasturing Argos, and they have great power among the Achaeans.\nAvoiding death and black doom from them,\nI am a fugitive, since it is my fate to wander among men.\nBut take me on your ship, since I have fled to you as a suppliant,\nin case they kill me; for I think they are chasing me.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nNo indeed, I will not push you off my well-balanced ship against your will,\nbut follow along; and there you will be welcomed with whatever we have.\nSo saying, he took the bronze spear from him,\nand laid it out on the deck of the curved ship;\nand he himself went aboard the sea-crossing ship.\nThen he sat down at the stern, and beside him\nhe sat Theoclymenus; and they untied the stern cables.\nAnd Telemachus urged on his comrades and told them\nto take hold of the gear; and they obeyed eagerly.\nThey raised the pine mast and set it inside the hollow mast-box,\nand made it fast with the fore-stays,\nand hauled up the white sails with well-twisted oxhide ropes.\nBright-eyed Athena sent them a favorable wind,\nblowing fiercely through the sky, so that as quickly as possible\nthe ship might run through the salt water of the sea.\nThey passed by Cruni and fair-streamed Chalcis.\nThe sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;\nand the ship came to Pheae, driven on by the wind of Zeus,\nand past shining Elis, where the Epeians hold power.\nFrom there he sped on toward the swift islands,\nwondering whether he might escape death or be caught.\nMeanwhile in the hut Odysseus and the godlike swineherd\nwere eating supper; and other men ate supper beside them.\nBut when they had had enough of drink and food,\nOdysseus spoke among them, testing the swineherd,\nwhether he would still kindly welcome him and tell him to stay\nthere at his farmstead, or urge him toward the city:\nHear me now, Eumaeus, and all you other comrades;\nat dawn I want to go to the city\nto beg, so that I do not wear you and your comrades out.\nBut advise me well and give me a good guide\nwho will lead me there; and through the city I myself will of necessity\nwander around, in case someone offers me a cup and a bit of bread.\nAnd if I go to the house of godlike Odysseus,\nI could bring a message to sensible Penelope,\nand I could mix with the arrogant suitors,\nif they would give me a meal, since they have countless dishes.\nI could soon do well among them in whatever they want.\nFor I will tell you plainly; take it in, and listen to me:\nby the grace of Hermes the guide, who to all\nmen gives charm and glory in their work,\nno other mortal could compete with me in service,\nto pile a fire well and split dry wood,\nto carve and roast and pour wine,\nthe sorts of things that lesser men do in service to their betters.\nThen, greatly annoyed, you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nOh, stranger, why is this thought in your mind?\nDo you really long to die right there?\nIf you want to go down into the crowd of the suitors,\nwhose arrogance and violence reach the iron sky,\ntheir attendants are not men like you,\nbut young men, well dressed in cloaks and tunics,\nalways sleek about the head and with handsome faces,\nwho serve them; and well-polished tables\nare loaded with bread and meat and wine.\nBut stay; for no one is upset at your being here,\nneither I nor any other of the comrades I have.\nBut when the dear son of Odysseus comes,\nhe will dress you in cloak and tunic and clothes,\nand send you wherever your heart and spirit tell you.\nThen much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:\nAh, Eumaeus, may you be as dear to father Zeus\nas you are to me, since you have stopped my wandering and dreadful misery.\nThere is nothing worse for mortals than wandering around;\nbut because of the cursed belly men have evil troubles,\nwhenever wandering and misery and pain come upon a man.\nBut now, since you insist that I stay and tell me to wait for him,\ncome, tell me about the mother of godlike Odysseus\nand his father, whom he left when he set out at the threshold of old age,\nwhether they are still alive under the rays of the sun,\nor are already dead and in the halls of Hades.\nThen the swineherd, leader of men, answered him:\nThen I will tell you, stranger, quite exactly.\nLaertes is still alive, and he always prays to Zeus\nthat his life may waste away from his limbs in his own halls;\nfor he grieves terribly for the son who has gone away,\nand for his wedded wife, a sensible woman, who above all\nhurt him by dying and left him in harsh old age.\nAnd she died of grief for her glorious son,\na wretched death; may no one who is dear to me\nand lives here and does me kindness die like that.\nSo long as she was alive, grieving as she was,\nit was dear to me to ask about her and question her,\nbecause she herself raised me along with long-robed Ctimene,\nher noble daughter, the youngest child she bore;\nI was raised together with her, and she honored me only a little less.\nBut when we both reached delightful youth,\nthey gave her then to a man in Same and took countless gifts,\nand she, dressing me fairly in cloak and tunic and clothes,\nand giving me sandals for my feet,\nsent me out to the fields; and she loved me all the more in her heart.\nBut now I am in need of these things; yet the blessed gods\nmake the work I stick to prosper;\nfrom it I have eaten and drunk and given to respected men.\nBut from my mistress it is not possible to hear a gentle\nword or deed, since evil has fallen on the house,\nthose arrogant men; and the slaves greatly lack the chance\nto speak in the mistress's presence and learn everything\nand eat and drink, and then carry something\nout to the fields, the sorts of things that always warm a slave's heart.\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nAlas, how then, while still a small child, Eumaeus the swineherd,\nyou were driven far from your homeland and your parents.\nBut come, tell me this and recount it exactly,\nwhether the broad-streeted city of men was sacked,\nin which your father and your honored mother lived,\nor whether, when you were alone among the sheep or the cattle,\nhostile men took you with their ships and sold you,\nto this man's house, and he paid a worthy price.\nThen the swineherd, leader of men, answered him:\nStranger, since you ask me these things and question me,\nnow listen in silence and enjoy yourself, and drink your wine\nsitting here. For these nights are endless; there is time to sleep,\nand time to listen with pleasure; there is no need for you\nto lie down before the time comes; too much sleep is a nuisance.\nWhichever of the others his heart and spirit tell him to,\nlet him go out and sleep; and at dawn when it appears,\nlet him eat and follow the master's pigs.\nBut let us two, drinking and feasting in the hut,\ntake pleasure in each other's wretched sorrows,\nremembering them; for a man takes pleasure even in griefs,\nwhoever has suffered very much and wandered much.\nAnd this I will tell you, what you ask me and question me about.\nThere is an island called Syrie, if perhaps you have heard of it,\nabove Ortygia, where the sun turns;\nit is not very crowded, not that much, but it is good,\ngood for grazing, good for flocks, full of wine, rich in wheat.\nHunger never comes on the people, nor is any other\nhateful sickness ever upon the wretched mortals;\nbut when the tribes of men grow old in the city,\nsilver-bowed Apollo comes with Artemis\nand, attacking with his gentle arrows, kills them.\nThere are two cities, and everything is divided between them;\nand over both of them my father was king,\nCtesius, son of Ormenus, like the immortals.\nThere came Phoenician men, famous for their ships,\ngreedy traders, bringing countless trinkets in a black ship.\nThere was a Phoenician woman in my father's house,\ntall and beautiful, and skilled in splendid work;\nand the Phoenicians, full of tricks, seduced her.\nOne of them first lay with her beside the hollow ship,\nin bed and in love, the things that beguile the minds\nof women, even if one is good at her work.\nThen he asked who she was and where she had come from;\nand she at once told him about her father's high-roofed house:\nI claim to be from Sidon, rich in bronze,\nand I am the daughter of Arybas, abundantly wealthy;\nbut Taphian raiders seized me\nas I was coming from the fields, and they brought me here and sold me\nto this man's house; and he paid a worthy price.\nThen the man who had lain with her in secret said to her:\nWould you now come back home again with us,\nso that you may see your father's and mother's high-roofed house\nand them too? For they are still alive and are called wealthy.\nThen the woman answered him and said:\nThat could be, sailors, if you would be willing\nto bind yourselves by oath to take me home unharmed.\nSo she spoke, and they all swore as she asked.\nBut when they had sworn and finished the oath,\nthe woman spoke among them again and said:\nNow keep quiet; let none of your comrades speak to me\nwith words, whether met in the street\nor at the spring; in case someone goes to the old man's house\nand tells him, and he, suspecting, ties me up\nin painful bonds and plans destruction for you.\nBut keep the word in mind, and hurry on the price of the goods.\nBut when the ship is full of goods,\nlet a message come quickly to me at the house;\nfor I will bring gold too, whatever comes into my hands;\nand I would willingly give other passage-money too.\nFor I am raising in the halls the son of a good man,\na clever one indeed, who runs about outside with me;\nI could bring him onto the ship, and he would fetch you a huge price\nwherever you sell him among men of other tongues.\nSo she spoke and went off to the fine house,\nand they, staying there with us a whole year,\ntraded much goods in the hollow ship.\nBut when the hollow ship was loaded for them to sail,\nthen they sent a messenger, to tell the woman.\nA man skilled in many things came to my father's house\ncarrying a golden necklace, strung with amber beads.\nIn the hall the maids and my honored mother\nhandled it with their hands and looked at it with their eyes,\noffering a price; and he nodded to her in silence.\nHe, having nodded, had gone to the hollow ship,\nand she took me by the hand and led me out of the house.\nIn the forecourt she found both cups and tables\nof the feasting men, who were attending my father.\nThey had gone to the council seat and the assembly of the people,\nbut she quickly hid three cups in her bosom\nand carried them out; and I followed in my foolishness.\nThe sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;\nand we came quickly to the famous harbor,\nwhere the swift ship of the Phoenician men was.\nThen they went aboard and sailed the watery paths,\ntaking us two aboard; and Zeus sent a fair wind.\nSix days alike we sailed, nights and days;\nbut when Zeus, son of Cronos, brought on the seventh day,\nthen Artemis the arrow-pourer struck the woman,\nand she fell with a thud into the bilge, like a sea gull.\nAnd they threw her overboard to become prey for seals and fish;\nbut I was left behind with a grieving heart;\nand wind and water carried them on and brought them near Ithaca,\nwhere Laertes bought me with his own goods.\nThat is how I came to see this land with my own eyes.\nThen god-born Odysseus answered him and said:\nEumaeus, truly you have stirred the spirit in my heart\nby telling me all these things, all the griefs you have suffered in your heart.\nBut Zeus has set good alongside evil for you,\nsince after much toil you came to the house of a kind man\nwho provides you food and drink\nkindly, and you live a good life; but I\nhave come here wandering over many cities of men.\nSo they spoke such things to one another,\nand lay down to sleep for no long time, but only briefly;\nfor soon fair-throned Dawn came. And the comrades of Telemachus on the land\nuntied the sails and took down the mast\nquickly, and rowed the ship into the mooring;\nthey threw out the anchor stones and tied the stern cables fast;\nand they themselves went out onto the breaking surf of the sea,\nand prepared a meal and mixed the flaming wine.\nBut when they had had enough of drink and food,\nwise Telemachus began to speak among them:\nYou now drive the black ship to the city,\nbut I will go to the fields and the herdsmen;\nin the evening I will come down to the city after seeing my farm.\nAnd at dawn I will set out provisions for your journey,\na good feast of meat and sweet wine.\nThen godlike Theoclymenus said to him:\nWhere shall I go, dear child? Whose house shall I come to,\nof the men who rule over rocky Ithaca?\nShall I go straight to your mother and your house?\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nIn other circumstances I would tell you to come\nto our house; for there is no lack of hospitality; but for you yourself it is\nworse, since I will be away, and my mother\nwill not see you; for she does not often\nshow herself among the suitors in the house, but away from them she weaves her web upstairs.\nBut I will point out another man for you to go to,\nEurymachus, the shining son of wise Polybus,\nwhom the Ithacans now look upon as equal to a god;\nfor he is by far the best man, and he is most eager\nto marry my mother and to have the honor of Odysseus.\nBut Olympian Zeus knows these things, who dwells in the upper air,\nwhether he will bring a day of evil on them before the marriage.\nAs he spoke, a bird flew on the right,\na hawk, the swift messenger of Apollo; in its talons\nit was plucking a dove, and it scattered the feathers to the ground\nbetween the ship and Telemachus himself.\nTheoclymenus called him aside from his comrades\nand clung to his hand and spoke a word and called him by name:\nTelemachus, that bird did not fly on the right without a god;\nfor I knew it was an omen when I looked at it face to face.\nThere is no other family more royal than yours\nin the land of Ithaca, but you are always strong.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him:\nIf only, stranger, this word were fulfilled;\nthen you would soon know friendship and many gifts\nfrom me, so that anyone meeting you would call you blessed.\nHe spoke, and called to Piraeus, his trusty comrade:\nPiraeus, son of Clytius, you who above all\nmy comrades who followed me to Pylos obey me in other things;\nnow too take this stranger and in your house\nwelcome him kindly and honor him, until I come.\nThen Piraeus, famous for the spear, answered him:\nTelemachus, even if you stayed here a long time,\nI would care for this man, and he will have no lack of hospitality.\nSo saying, he went aboard the ship and told his comrades\nto go aboard themselves and untie the stern cables.\nAnd they quickly went aboard and sat down at the benches.\nAnd Telemachus tied fair sandals under his feet,\nand took a stout spear, sharpened with keen bronze,\nfrom the ship's deck; and they untied the stern cables.\nThey pushed off and sailed toward the city, as Telemachus had ordered,\nthe dear son of godlike Odysseus;\nand his feet carried him swiftly striding on until he reached the farmyard,\nwhere the swineherd,\na good man, lived, kindly minded toward his masters.\n\n### Book 16\n\nIn the hut Odysseus and the noble swineherd\nwere getting breakfast ready at dawn, after lighting a fire,\nand they sent out the herdsmen with the pigs that had been gathered.\nThe loud-barking dogs fawned around Telemachus\nand did not bark at him as he came near. Noble Odysseus noticed\nthat the dogs were fawning, and the sound of feet reached him.\nAt once he spoke winged words to Eumaeus:\nEumaeus, some friend of yours is surely coming here,\nor some other person you know, since the dogs are not barking\nbut fawning around him; and I hear the thud of feet.\nHe had not yet finished the whole sentence when his dear son\nstood in the doorway. The swineherd jumped up in astonishment,\nand the bowls he was working with fell from his hands\nas he mixed the fiery wine. He went to meet his master\nand kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes\nand both his hands; and a big warm tear fell from him.\nJust as a father, loving his son, welcomes him warmly\nwhen he comes back in the tenth year from a distant land,\nan only late-born son, for whom he has suffered many sorrows,\nso then the noble swineherd kissed godlike Telemachus\nall over, clinging to him, as one escaped from death;\nand weeping he spoke winged words:\nYou have come, Telemachus, sweet light. I never thought\nI would see you again, after you sailed to Pylos.\nBut come in now, dear child, so that in my heart\nI may enjoy looking at you, newly arrived from somewhere else.\nYou do not often come out to the farm or to the herdsmen,\nbut you stay in town; that is what has pleased your heart,\nto watch the deadly crowd of suitors.\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered him:\nThat is how it will be, sir; it is because of you that I have come here,\nso that I may see you with my eyes and hear you speak,\nwhether my mother is still waiting in the halls for me, or whether some other\nman has already married her, and Odysseus' bed\nlies empty of blankets, covered with ugly cobwebs.\nThen the swineherd, leader of men, answered him:\nShe is still waiting, with an enduring heart,\nin your halls; but her miserable nights and days\nalways waste away, as she sheds tears.\nAfter saying this he took the bronze spear from him;\nand he went inside and stepped over the stone threshold.\nAs he came in, his father Odysseus gave up his seat to him;\nbut Telemachus from the other side stopped him and said:\nSit, stranger; we will find a seat somewhere else\nin our own farm; there is a man here who will set one out.\nSo he spoke, and he went back and sat down; and the swineherd\nspread green brushwood under him and a fleece on top;\nthen Odysseus' dear son sat down there.\nThe swineherd set before them platters of roast meat\nthat they had left over from eating the day before,\nand he hurriedly piled up bread in baskets,\nand in an ivy-wood cup he mixed honey-sweet wine;\nand he himself sat down facing godlike Odysseus.\nThey reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.\nWhen they had satisfied their desire for drink and food,\nthen Telemachus spoke to the noble swineherd:\nSir, where did this stranger come to you from? How did sailors\nbring him to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be?\nI certainly do not think he got here on foot.\nAnswering him, you said, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nThen I will tell you the whole truth, child.\nHe claims his family is from broad Crete,\nand he says he has wandered around many cities of men\nin his roaming; that is how some god spun it for him.\nAnd now, after escaping from a ship of Thesprotian men,\nhe has come to my farm, and I will hand him over to you;\ndo as you wish; he claims to be your suppliant.\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered him:\nEumaeus, that is a heart-grieving thing you have said;\nfor how am I to take this stranger into my house?\nI myself am young and do not yet trust my hands\nto fight off a man when someone provokes me first;\nand my mother's heart in her chest is torn two ways,\nwhether to stay here with me and manage the house,\nrespecting her husband's bed and what people say,\nor to follow whichever of the Achaeans is best\nand courts her in the halls and offers the most.\nBut this stranger, since he has come to your house,\nI will dress him in a cloak and tunic, fine clothes,\nand I will give him a two-edged sword and sandals for his feet,\nand send him wherever his heart and spirit tell him.\nIf you want, you can keep him here, holding him at the farm;\nand I will send clothes here and all his food\nto eat, so that he does not wear you and your friends out.\nI would not let him go over there among the suitors;\nfor they are outrageously arrogant;\nthey might mock him, and that would be terrible grief for me.\nAnd it is hard for a man, even a strong one,\nto get anything done among more men, since they are far stronger.\nThen much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:\nFriend, since it is proper for me to answer too,\ntruly my dear heart is torn apart as I listen\nto you saying that the suitors recklessly plot\nin the halls, against your will, when you are the man you are.\nTell me, are you subdued willingly, or do the people\nhate you across the land, following some god's voice,\nor do you have a complaint against your brothers, whom a man\ntrusts when they fight, even if a great quarrel arises?\nIf only I were as young as my spirit here,\neither a son of blameless Odysseus or Odysseus himself;\nthen let some stranger cut off my head at once\nif I did not become a curse to all of them,\ncoming into the hall of Odysseus, son of Laertes.\nBut if they overcame me with their numbers while I was alone,\nI would rather be killed in my own halls\nand die than always watch these shameful deeds:\nstrangers being roughly handled, and slave women\ndragged shamefully through the fine halls,\nand wine being wasted, and food being eaten\nfor nothing, uselessly, with no end to the work.\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered him:\nThen I will tell you quite exactly, stranger.\nThe whole people is not angry with me in hatred,\nnor do I blame my brothers, whom a man\ntrusts when they fight, even if a great quarrel arises.\nFor the son of Cronos made our family a single line:\nArceisius fathered only Laertes as a son,\nand Laertes in turn fathered only Odysseus; and Odysseus\nfathered only me in the halls and left me, and had no benefit from me.\nSo now there are countless enemies in my house.\nFor as many lords as rule over the islands,\nDulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus,\nand as many as are lords over rocky Ithaca,\nthat many court my mother, and they wear out my house.\nAnd she neither refuses the hateful marriage nor is able\nto bring it to an end; and they wear away my house\nby eating; and soon they will destroy me too.\nBut these things lie on the knees of the gods.\nSir, you go quickly and tell wise Penelope\nthat I am safe and have come back from Pylos.\nBut I will stay here, and you come back here,\nafter telling her alone; and let no other of the Achaeans\nhear about it; for many are plotting evil against me.\nAnswering him, you said, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nI know, I understand; you are telling someone who understands.\nBut come, tell me this too and tell it exactly:\nshould I also go to Laertes as a messenger on that same road,\nthe poor man, who until now, grieving greatly for Odysseus,\nused to keep an eye on the work, and in the house among the servants\ndrank and ate whenever his heart in his chest told him to;\nbut now, since you sailed to Pylos,\nthey say he no longer eats and drinks the same way,\nnor looks at the work, but with groaning and wailing\nhe sits and mourns, and the flesh wastes away from his bones.\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered him:\nIt is worse, but even so let us leave him, grieving as we are;\nfor if mortals could choose everything for themselves,\nwe would first choose the day of my father's return.\nBut you go back after giving the message, and do not\nwander through the fields after him; but tell my mother's\nhousekeeper to tell her as quickly as possible,\nsecretly; for she could report it to the old man.\nSo he spoke and roused the swineherd; and he took sandals in his hands,\ntied them under his feet, and went to the city. And Athena did not\nfail to notice Eumaeus the swineherd leaving the farm,\nbut she came near; in body she was like a woman,\nbeautiful and tall and skilled in glorious handiwork.\nShe stood at the front doorway of the hut, appearing to Odysseus;\nand Telemachus did not see her face to face or notice her,\nfor the gods do not appear clearly to everyone,\nbut Odysseus and the dogs saw her, and they did not bark,\nbut with a whimper they fled to the other side through the farm.\nAnd she nodded with her eyebrows; noble Odysseus noticed,\nand went out of the hut past the great wall of the courtyard,\nand stood in front of her; and Athena spoke to him:\nZeus-born son of Laertes, much-devising Odysseus,\nnow at once speak to your son and do not hide it,\nso that the two of you, planning death and doom for the suitors,\nmay go to the famous city; and I myself\nwill not be far from you two, eager for the fight.\nSo she spoke, and Athena touched him with a golden wand.\nFirst she put a well-washed cloak and tunic\naround his chest, and increased his size and youthfulness.\nAnd he became dark-skinned again, and his jaws grew broad,\nand a dark beard grew around his chin.\nShe did this and went back; but Odysseus\nwent into the hut; and his dear son was amazed at him,\nand in fear he threw his eyes aside, in case he was a god,\nand speaking to him he said winged words:\nYou look different to me now than before, stranger,\nand you are wearing different clothes, and your skin is no longer the same.\nSurely you are some god, one of those who hold the wide heaven;\nbut be merciful, so that we may give you pleasing sacrifices\nand golden gifts, well made; and spare us.\nThen much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:\nI am no god; why do you compare me to the immortals?\nBut I am your father, for whose sake you groan\nand suffer many sorrows, putting up with the violence of men.\nSo saying, he kissed his son, and down his cheeks\nhe let a tear fall to the ground; before, he had always held it back.\nBut Telemachus, because he still did not believe he was his father,\nagain answered him and said:\nYou are not Odysseus, my father, but some god\nis bewitching me, so that I may mourn and groan even more.\nFor no mortal man could plan these things\nwith his own mind, unless a god himself came\nand easily, at will, made him young or old.\nA moment ago you were an old man and wore shameful clothes;\nbut now you are like the gods, who hold the wide heaven.\nAnswering him, much-devising Odysseus said:\nTelemachus, it is not right for you to be amazed\nbeyond measure or astonished that your dear father is here;\nfor no other Odysseus will come here again,\nbut here I am, just as I am, after suffering evils and much wandering,\nand I have come in the twentieth year to my native land.\nThis is the work of Athena, driver of the spoil,\nwho made me as she wants; she can do it,\nsometimes like a beggar, and sometimes again\nlike a young man wearing fine clothes on his skin.\nIt is easy for the gods, who hold the wide heaven,\nboth to make a mortal man glorious and to ruin him.\nSo saying, he sat down, and Telemachus\nthrew his arms around his noble father and wept, shedding tears,\nand in both of them the desire to wail arose;\nthey wept loudly, more thickly than birds,\nsea-eagles or hook-clawed vultures, whose young\ncountry people have taken away before they can fly;\nso they shed a pitiful tear under their brows.\nAnd the light of the sun would have set on them as they mourned,\nif Telemachus had not quickly spoken to his father:\nIn what kind of ship, dear father, did sailors now bring you\nhere to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be?\nI certainly do not think you got here on foot.\nThen much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:\nThen I will tell you the truth, child.\nThe Phaeacians, famous for ships, brought me, the ones who also\nsend other men, whoever comes to them;\nand while I slept in their swift ship over the sea, carrying me\nthey set me down in Ithaca, and gave me glorious gifts,\nbronze and gold in plenty and woven clothing.\nAnd these lie in the caves by the will of the gods.\nAnd now I have come here on Athena's instructions,\nso that we may plan murder against our enemies.\nBut come, count up the suitors and tell them to me,\nso that I may know how many they are and what kind of men they are;\nand I will consider it in my blameless heart\nand figure out whether we two can stand against them\nalone, without others, or whether we should look for others.\nThen thoughtful Telemachus answered him:\nFather, I always heard of your great fame,\nthat your hands are warlike and your counsel wise.\nBut you have said far too much; amazement takes hold of me; and it cannot be\nthat two men fight against many and strong enemies.\nAnd of the suitors there is not a sure ten or just two,\nbut many more; and soon you will learn their number here.\nFrom Dulichium there are fifty-two\npicked young men, and six servants follow them;\nand from Same there are twenty-four men,\nand from Zacynthus there are twenty young men of the Achaeans,\nand from Ithaca itself twelve, all of them the best,\nand along with them is Medon the herald and a godlike poet\nand two servants, skilled in carving meat.\nIf we meet all of these inside,\nbe careful that you do not come and pay a very bitter and dreadful price for your violence.\nBut come, if you can think of some defender,\nconsider who might defend us two with a willing heart.\nThen much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:\nSo I will speak, and you pay attention and hear me:\nand tell whether Athena with father Zeus\nwill be enough for us, or whether I should think of some other defender.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him in turn:\nThese two you speak of are good defenders,\neven though they sit high in the clouds; and they have power over other\nmen and over the immortal gods.\nThen much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:\nThose two certainly will not be apart for a long time\nfrom the strong battle, when between the suitors and us\nin my halls the fury of Ares is decided.\nBut you now go, as dawn appears,\nhome, and mix with the arrogant suitors;\nand the swineherd will bring me later to the town,\nlike a wretched beggar and an old man.\nAnd if they dishonor me through the house, let your own dear heart\nendure it in your chest, while I suffer badly,\neven if they drag me by the feet through the house and out the door\nor throw things at me; you look on and endure it.\nBut indeed you should tell them to stop their foolishness,\nspeaking to them with gentle words; but they will not\nbe persuaded; for the day of their fate stands near.\nAnd another thing I will tell you, and put it in your heart:\nwhen Athena of many counsels puts it in your mind,\nI will nod to you with my head, and then you, noticing,\nas many of the warlike weapons as lie in the halls,\ntake them up and put them in the recess of the high chamber,\nall of them; and the suitors with soft words\nput off, when they ask you about them, wanting them;\nsay you put them away from the smoke, since they no longer looked like\nwhat Odysseus left behind when he went to Troy,\nbut they are tarnished as far as the smoke of the fire reached.\nAnd on top of that the son of Cronos put this greater thing in my mind,\nthat somehow, drunk, having started a quarrel among you,\nyou might wound each other and shame the feast\nand the wooing; for iron itself draws a man on.\nAnd for us two alone let two swords and two spears\nbe left, and two shields to take in our hands,\nso that we may rush and seize them; and then\nPallas Athena will charm them, and Zeus the counselor.\nAnd another thing I will tell you, and put it in your heart:\nif you are truly mine and of our blood,\nlet no one then hear that Odysseus is inside,\nneither let Laertes know it, nor the swineherd,\nnor any of the household, nor Penelope herself,\nbut let you and I alone learn the mind of the women;\nand we might also test some of the male slaves,\nboth where someone honors us two and fears in his heart,\nand where someone does not care, and dishonors you though you are such a man.\nThen his glorious son answered him and said:\nFather, you will also know my heart after this, I think,\nfor no slackness of mind holds me;\nbut I do not think this will be a gain\nfor us both; and I tell you to think about it.\nFor you will learn for a long time going around testing each man,\ngoing among the work; and they in the halls at ease\ndevour the goods violently, and there is no sparing.\nBut I tell you to find out about the women,\nwhich ones dishonor you and which are blameless;\nbut among the men in the farmsteads I would not\nwant us to test them, but these things to be dealt with later,\nif you truly know some sign from aegis-bearing Zeus.\nSo these two spoke such things to each other,\nand meanwhile the well-built ship was coming down to Ithaca,\nwhich carried Telemachus from Pylos and all his comrades.\nAnd when they came inside the deep harbor,\nthey dragged the black ship up on the land,\nand the high-spirited servants carried away their weapons,\nand at once they brought the very beautiful gifts to the house of Clytius.\nAnd they sent a herald to the house of Odysseus,\nto tell the message to wise Penelope,\nthat Telemachus was in the country, and had ordered the ship\nto sail back to the city, so that she might not, in fear in her heart,\nthe noble queen, shed a tender tear.\nAnd the herald and the noble swineherd met each other\nfor the same message, to tell it to the woman.\nBut when they came to the house of the godlike king,\nthe herald spoke among the serving women:\nQueen, your dear son has already come.\nAnd the swineherd, standing near, told Penelope\neverything that her dear son had told him to say.\nAnd when he had told the whole message,\nhe went to the pigs, and left the yard and the hall.\nAnd the suitors were distressed and downcast in their hearts,\nand they came out of the hall past the great wall of the courtyard,\nand sat down right in front of the doors.\nAnd Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak to them:\nFriends, this journey of his has been accomplished, a great and arrogant deed,\nand we said it would not happen for Telemachus.\nBut come, let us drag down the best black ship we have,\nand gather rowing seamen, who may most quickly\ntell those men to hurry home.\nNot everything had been said, when Amphinomus saw the ship,\nturning from his place, inside the deep harbor,\nwith men furling sails and holding oars in their hands.\nAnd laughing sweetly he spoke to his comrades:\nLet us no longer urge on any message; for these men are inside.\nEither some god told them this, or they themselves saw\nthe ship passing by, and could not catch it.\nSo he spoke, and they stood up and went to the shore of the sea,\nand at once dragged the black ship up on the land,\nand the high-spirited servants carried away their weapons.\nAnd they themselves went in a crowd to the assembly, and would not allow any other\neither of the young or the old to sit among them.\nAnd Antinous spoke among them, son of Eupeithes:\nAlas, how the gods have freed this man from his misery.\nBy day the watchers sat on the windy heights,\nalways one after another; and at sunset\nwe never spent the night on land, but on the sea\nsailing in a swift ship we waited for the bright Dawn,\nlying in wait for Telemachus, so that we might seize and kill him;\nbut meanwhile a god brought him home,\nand let us here plan a miserable death\nfor Telemachus, and let him not escape us; for I do not think\nthat while this man lives these deeds will be accomplished.\nFor he himself is knowledgeable in counsel and in mind,\nand the people no longer altogether bring goodwill to us.\nBut come, before that man gathers the Achaeans\ninto assembly—for I do not think he will let it go,\nbut he will be furious, and standing up will say before everyone\nthat we plotted sheer murder against him and did not accomplish it;\nand they will not approve when they hear of evil deeds;\nlest they do some harm and drive us out\nof our land, and we come to the land of others;\nbut let us kill him, seizing him in the country away from the city,\nor on the road; and let us ourselves keep his livelihood and property,\ndividing it fairly among us, and the house\nlet us give to his mother to keep, and to whoever marries her.\nBut if this word displeases you, and you would rather\nthat he live and keep all his father's goods,\nthen let us not give him goods, pleasant and plentiful,\ngathering here, but from the hall let each man\nwoo her, seeking her with gifts; and she may then\nmarry whoever gives the most and is fated to come.\nSo he spoke, and they all became silent in quiet.\nAnd Amphinomus spoke among them and said,\nthe glorious son of Nisus, lord Aretiades,\nwho from Dulichium, rich in wheat and grassy,\nled the suitors, and most pleased Penelope\nwith his words; for he had good sense;\nhe, well-minded toward them, spoke and said:\nFriends, I would not want to kill\nTelemachus; for it is a dreadful thing to kill the royal race;\nbut first let us ask the counsels of the gods.\nIf the decrees of great Zeus approve,\nI myself will kill him and order all the others to do so;\nbut if the gods turn us away, I tell you to stop.\nSo spoke Amphinomus, and his word pleased them.\nAt once then they stood up and went to the house of Odysseus,\nand when they came they sat down on the polished seats.\nAnd wise Penelope thought of another thing,\nto appear before the suitors in their arrogant violence.\nFor she had learned of the destruction of her son in the halls;\nfor the herald Medon told her, who had learned of their plans.\nAnd she went to the hall with her serving women.\nBut when the shining one among women came to the suitors,\nshe stood by the doorpost of the well-built roof,\nholding her shining veil before her cheeks,\nand she rebuked Antinous, and spoke a word and called him by name:\nAntinous, full of arrogance, evil plotter, and they say that you\namong the people of Ithaca, among your fellows, are the best\nin counsel and in words; but you are not such a man.\nMadman, why do you weave death and doom\nfor Telemachus, and do not care about suppliants, for whom Zeus\nis witness? Nor is it holy to weave evils against one another.\nDo you not know when your father came here fleeing,\nafraid of the people? For they were very angry,\nbecause he had followed the Taphian pirates\nand harmed the Thesprotians; and they were friends with us;\nand they wanted to destroy him and tear out his dear heart\nand eat up his plentiful, heart-pleasing livelihood;\nbut Odysseus held them back and stopped them, eager as they were.\nNow you devour his house in dishonor, and woo his wife\nand kill his son, and grieve me greatly;\nbut I tell you to stop, and to tell the others too.\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her:\nDaughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\ntake courage; let these things not trouble your heart.\nThere is no such man, nor will there be, nor will he be born,\nwho will lay hands on Telemachus your son,\nwhile I am alive and looking on the earth.\nFor I will speak out, and surely it will be accomplished:\nquickly his black blood will flow around my own spear,\nsince Odysseus, sacker of cities, once\nmany times set me on his knees and put roast meat\nin my hands, and held the red wine to me.\nTherefore Telemachus is by far the dearest to me of all\nmen, and I tell him not to fear death at all\nfrom the suitors; but from the gods there is no escaping.\nSo he spoke, encouraging her, but he himself was preparing his destruction.\nAnd she went up to the shining upper chambers\nand wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until on her eyelids\nbright-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep.\nIn the evening the noble swineherd came to Odysseus and his son;\nand they made ready supper standing by,\nhaving sacrificed a year-old boar. But Athena,\nstanding near, struck Odysseus, son of Laertes,\nwith a rod and made him an old man again,\nand dressed him in wretched clothes on his body, so that the swineherd\nwould not recognize him looking at him, and would not go to wise Penelope\nand report, nor keep it in his thoughts.\nAnd Telemachus spoke to him first:\nYou have come, noble Eumaeus. What then is the talk in the city?\nAre the proud suitors already inside\nfrom the ambush, or are they still watching for me as I come home?\nAnd answering him you said, Eumaeus the swineherd:\nI did not care to ask and inquire about these things\nas I went down to the city; my heart bade me most quickly\ntell my message and come back here again.\nAnd a swift messenger went with me from your comrades,\na herald, who was the first to speak a word to your mother.\nAnd another thing I know; for I saw it with my eyes.\nAlready above the city, where the hill of Hermes is,\nI was going, when I saw a swift ship coming down\ninto our harbor; and there were many men in it,\nand it was heavy with shields and two-edged spears;\nand I thought they were those men, but I do not know for sure.\nSo he spoke, and the sacred strength of Telemachus smiled,\nlooking with his eyes at his father, and avoided the swineherd's notice.\nBut when they had stopped their work and made ready the feast,\nthey feasted, and their heart did not lack an equal share of the feast.\nBut when they had put away their desire for drink and food,\nthey thought of bed and took the gift of sleep.\n\n### Book 17\n\nWhen early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthen Telemachos tied the beautiful sandals on his feet,\nthe dear son of godlike Odysseus,\nand he took up a strong spear that fitted his hands,\neager for the city, and he spoke to his swineherd:\nFriend, I am going into the city, so that my mother\ncan see me; for I don't think she will stop before then\nfrom hateful wailing and tearful grieving,\nuntil she sees me myself; but I give you this order.\nLead this poor stranger into the city, so that there\nhe can beg for his dinner; and whoever wants to will give him\na loaf and a cup; for I can't possibly put up with\nall men, even though I have sorrows in my heart;\nand the stranger, even if he's very angry, it will be\nworse for him; for truly I like to speak the truth.\nThen many-minded Odysseus answered him:\nFriend, I myself am not eager to be held back;\nfor a beggar it's better through the town than through the fields\nto beg his dinner; and whoever wants to will give to me.\nFor I'm not of an age to stay at the farmsteads any longer,\nso as to obey a master in everything when he gives orders.\nBut go on; and this man you tell will lead me\nright away, once the warmth and heat of the fire come.\nFor these clothes I wear are terribly bad; may the morning\nfrost not overcome me; and they say the town is far off.\nSo he spoke, and Telemachos had gone through the farmstead,\nstepping quickly with his feet, and he was planting evils for the suitors.\nBut when he reached the well-built house,\nhe stood the spear he was carrying against a tall pillar,\nand he himself went inside and crossed the stone threshold.\nAnd the nurse Eurykleia saw him first, far before the others,\nspreading hides on the cunningly made chairs,\nand weeping she went straight to him; and around him the other\nslave women of steadfast Odysseus gathered,\nand they kissed his head and shoulders, welcoming him.\nAnd wise Penelope came out of her bedroom,\nlike Artemis or golden Aphrodite,\nand she threw her arms around her dear son, weeping,\nand she kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes,\nand lamenting she spoke winged words to him:\nYou have come, Telemachos, sweet light. I said\nI would never see you again, since you went by ship to Pylos\nin secret, against my will, to hear news of your dear father.\nBut come, tell me how you met with the sight of him.\nAnd prudent Telemachos answered her:\nMy mother, don't start wailing for me, and don't stir\nmy heart in my breast, though I've escaped sheer destruction;\nbut bathe yourself and put clean clothes on your body,\nand going up to your upper room with your attendant women,\npray to all the gods that you will make\nperfect hecatombs, in case Zeus somehow accomplishes deeds of repayment.\nBut I will go to the assembly, so that I can call\nthe stranger, whoever followed with me here as I came.\nI sent him on ahead with my godlike companions,\nand I told Peiraios to lead him to his house\nand to treat him kindly and honor him, until I come.\nSo she spoke, and the word was wingless for her.\nAnd she bathed and put clean clothes on her body,\nand prayed to all the gods that she would make\nperfect hecatombs, in case Zeus somehow accomplishes deeds of repayment.\nAnd Telemachos had then gone through the great hall\nholding his spear; and with him two swift dogs followed.\nAnd Athene poured wondrous grace over him;\nand all the people marveled at him as he came.\nAnd around him the lordly suitors gathered,\nsaying good things, but in their hearts brooding evils.\nBut he avoided their great crowd,\nand went where Mentor sat and Antiphos and Halitherses,\nwho had been his father's companions from the start,\nand there he went and sat down; and they questioned him about everything.\nAnd Peiraios, famous for the spear, came near them,\nleading the stranger to the assembly through the town; and no longer\ndid Telemachos turn away from the stranger, but stood beside him.\nAnd Peiraios first spoke a word to him:\nTelemachos, quickly urge the women to my house,\nso that I can send on the gifts that Menelaos gave you.\nAnd prudent Telemachos answered him:\nPeiraios, for we don't know how these things will be.\nIf the lordly suitors kill me in the halls\nin secret and divide up all my father's goods,\nI would rather you yourself enjoyed them than one of these men;\nbut if I plant slaughter and death for these men,\nthen bring them to my house rejoicing, and I will rejoice too.\nSo saying, he led the much-suffering stranger to his house.\nBut when they reached the well-built house,\nthey laid their cloaks on the couches and chairs,\nand stepping into the well-polished bathtubs they washed.\nAnd when the slave women had bathed them and rubbed them with oil,\nand thrown shaggy cloaks and tunics around them,\nthey stepped out of the bathtubs and sat down on the chairs.\nAnd a slave woman poured water for the hands from a pitcher she brought,\na beautiful golden one, over a silver basin,\nso they could wash; and beside them she set out a polished table.\nAnd the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,\nadding many foods, giving freely of what was there.\nAnd his mother sat opposite, beside the doorpost of the hall,\nleaning on a chair, spinning fine threads of wool.\nAnd they stretched their hands to the ready food set before them,\nbut when they had put away their desire for drink and food,\nthen wise Penelope began the talk among them:\nTelemachos, truly I, going up to my upper room,\nwill lie down on my bed, which has been made woeful for me,\nalways drenched with my tears, since Odysseus\nwent off with the sons of Atreus to Ilios; and you didn't dare,\nbefore the lordly suitors came to this house,\nto tell me clearly of your father's homecoming, if you heard it anywhere.\nAnd prudent Telemachos answered her:\nThen, mother, I will tell you the truth.\nWe went to Pylos and to Nestor, shepherd of the people;\nand he received me in his lofty halls\nand entertained me kindly, just as a father his own son\nwho comes home after a long time, newly from somewhere else; so he\nkindly cared for me with his glorious sons.\nBut about steadfast Odysseus he never said\nthat he had heard news from any mortal, alive or dead;\nbut he sent me on to the son of Atreus, Menelaos famous for the spear,\nwith horses and well-joined chariots.\nThere I saw Argive Helen, for whose sake many\nArgives and Trojans toiled by the will of the gods.\nAnd right away Menelaos, good at the war-cry, asked\nwhat need had brought me to shining Lakedaimon;\nand I told him the whole truth;\nand then he answered me with words and said:\nAh me, truly they wanted to lie in the bed\nof a strong-hearted man, cowards that they are.\nJust as when in a thicket a hind of a mighty lion\nhas lulled her newborn, milk-fed fawns to sleep,\nand searches the glens and grassy hollows\nas she grazes, and then he enters his own lair,\nand on both of them he sends an unseemly doom,\nso will Odysseus send an unseemly doom on those men.\nIf only, father Zeus and Athene and Apollo,\nbeing such as he was when once in well-built Lesbos\nhe rose up and wrestled in a contest with Philomeleides,\nand threw him mightily, and all the Achaeans rejoiced,\nbeing such, Odysseus might consort with the suitors;\nthey would all become short-lived and bitterly married.\nBut the things you ask and beg of me, I for my part\nwould not say anything else, turning aside, nor would I deceive you,\nbut just as the old man of the sea, truthful, told me,\nI will hide no word of it from you nor conceal it.\nHe said he saw him on an island, having mighty griefs,\nin the halls of the nymph Kalypso, who by necessity\nholds him; and he cannot reach his own fatherland.\nFor he has no oared ships at hand and no companions,\nwho might send him over the broad back of the sea.\nSo spoke the son of Atreus, Menelaos famous for the spear.\nHaving finished this I came back; and the immortals gave me\na fair wind, which quickly sent me to my dear fatherland.\nSo he spoke, and stirred the spirit in her breast.\nAnd godlike Theoklymenos also spoke among them:\nRevered lady, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,\ntruly he doesn't know clearly; but hear my word;\nfor I will prophesy to you exactly and will not conceal it.\nLet Zeus be witness now, first of the gods, and the stranger's table\nand the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have reached,\nthat truly Odysseus is already in his fatherland,\nsitting or creeping, learning of these evil deeds;\nhe is here, and he is planting evil for all the suitors.\nSuch a bird omen I marked, sitting\non the well-benched ship, and I called it out to Telemachos.\nAnd wise Penelope answered him:\nIf only, stranger, this word might be accomplished;\nthen you would soon know friendship and many gifts\nfrom me, so that whoever met you would call you blessed.\nSo they said such things to each other,\nand the suitors in front of Odysseus' hall\ntook pleasure in quoits and in throwing javelins\non the leveled floor, where they had been insolent before.\nBut when it was dinner-time and the flocks came\nfrom the fields on every side, and those who had brought them before,\nthen Medon spoke to them; for he pleased them most\nof the heralds, and was present at their feasting:\nYoung men, since you have all delighted your hearts with contests,\ncome to the house, so that we may prepare the feast;\nfor it is no worse to take dinner in season.\nSo he spoke, and they rose up and went, obeying the word.\nBut when they reached the well-built house,\nthey laid their cloaks on the couches and chairs,\nand they sacrificed great sheep and fat goats,\nthey sacrificed boars rich with fat and a cow from the herd,\npreparing the feast. And from the field toward the town\nOdysseus and the godlike swineherd hurried to go.\nAnd the swineherd began the talk among them, leader of men:\nStranger, since you are eager to go to the town\ntoday, as my master commanded—truly I for my part\nwould want to leave you here as guardian of the farmstead;\nbut I fear and dread him, in case afterward\nhe reproaches me; hard are the rebukes of masters—\nbut come now, let's go; for the day has come on a lot,\nand soon toward evening it will be colder.\nAnd many-minded Odysseus answered him:\nI know, I understand; you advise as a thoughtful man would.\nBut let's go, and you lead the way all along.\nAnd give me, if you have a cut club anywhere,\nto lean on, since you said the path is slippery.\nSo he spoke, and threw his unseemly pouch over his shoulders,\nfull of holes; and there was a twisted strap on it;\nand Eumaios gave him a staff dear to his heart.\nThe two went on, and the dogs and the herdsmen\nguarded the farmstead behind them, staying; but he led the master to the town\nlike a wretched beggar and an old man,\nleaning on a staff; and he wore wretched clothes on his skin.\nBut when, walking along the rugged road,\nthey were near the town and came to the spring\nbuilt and fair-flowing, from which the townsfolk drew water,\nwhich Ithakos made and Neritos and Polyktor;\nand around it was a grove of water-fed poplars,\nall around in a circle, and cold water flowed down\nfrom above out of a rock; and above it an altar had been built\nto the nymphs, where all wayfarers made offerings;\nthere the son of Dolios, Melanthios, came upon them,\nleading goats, which stood out among all the herds,\nfor the suitors' dinner; and two herdsmen followed with him.\nSeeing them he reviled them, and spoke a word and named them,\noutrageously and shamefully; and he stirred the heart of Odysseus:\nNow truly a base man leads a base man,\nas always a god leads like to like.\nWhere then are you leading this greedy-belly, wretched swineherd,\na tiresome beggar, a scrubber of feasts?\nOne who, standing by many doorposts, will rub his shoulders,\nbegging for scraps, not swords or cauldrons;\nhim, if you gave him to me to be guardian of the farmstead\nand to tend the pens and carry leaves for the kids,\ndrinking whey he might make himself a great thigh.\nBut since he has learned base works, he won't want\nto go about any work, but skulking through the district\nhe wants to beg and feed his insatiable belly.\nBut I tell you this, and it will also be accomplished:\nif he comes to the house of godlike Odysseus,\nmany footstools from the hands of men\naround his head will rub his ribs as he is thrown through the house.\nSo he spoke, and as he passed he kicked him in his folly\non the hip; but he didn't push him off the path,\nbut he stood firm; and Odysseus pondered\nwhether, rushing at him with a club, he should take his life,\nor should dash his head to the ground, lifting it up on both sides.\nBut he endured it and restrained himself; and the swineherd\nreviled him, looking him in the face, and prayed greatly, raising his hands:\nNymphs of the springs, daughters of Zeus, if ever Odysseus\nburned fat thighs for you, covered with rich fat,\nfrom lambs and kids, fulfill this wish for me:\nthat that man may come, and a god may lead him;\nthen he would scatter all your finery,\nwhich you now carry in your insolence, always wandering\nthrough the town; but bad herdsmen destroy the flocks.\nAnd Melanthios answered him, the goatherd of goats:\nAh me, how the dog speaks, knowing deadly things!\nOne day I will take him on a black, well-benched ship\nfar from Ithaka, so that he may fetch me much profit.\nIf only silver-bowed Apollo would strike Telemachos\ntoday in the halls, or he be brought down by the suitors,\nas the day of Odysseus' homecoming perished far away.\nSo saying he left them, walking slowly there,\nbut he went on, and very quickly reached the master's house.\nRight away he went inside and sat down among the suitors,\nopposite Eurymachos; for he loved him most.\nBeside him those who served set a portion of meat,\nand the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread\nto eat. And near at hand Odysseus and the godlike swineherd\nstood as they came, and around them came the sound\nof the hollow lyre; for among them Phemios\nwas beginning to sing; and he took the swineherd by the hand and said:\nEumaios, truly this is the beautiful house of Odysseus,\nand it is easily recognized even seen among many.\nOne thing after another it is, and the courtyard is furnished\nwith wall and cornice, and the doors are well-fenced,\ndouble-folding; no man could overpower it.\nAnd I know that many men set a feast in it,\nsince the savor of fat has risen, and inside the lyre\nrings out, which the gods made the companion of the feast.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:\nEasily you knew, since you're not witless in other things either.\nBut come, let's consider how these things will be.\nEither you go in first into the well-built house,\nand go among the suitors, and I will stay here;\nor if you want, wait, and I will go in front;\nand don't delay, in case someone notices you outside\nand strikes you or drives you off; I tell you to think about these things.\nAnd much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:\nI know, I understand; you advise as a thoughtful man would.\nBut go in front, and I will stay here.\nFor I am not unacquainted with blows or wounds;\nmy spirit is daring, since I have suffered many evils\nin waves and in war; let this be among them too;\nfor there is no way to hide the belly when it is eager,\naccursed, which gives many evils to men,\nfor whose sake even well-benched ships are fitted out\nover the barren sea, bringing evils to enemies.\nSo they said such things to each other;\nand the dog lying there raised his head and his ears,\nArgos, the dog of steadfast Odysseus, whom once he himself\nraised, but had no joy of him, for before that to holy Ilios\nhe had gone. Him formerly young men used to lead out\nafter wild goats and deer and hares;\nbut then he lay neglected, his master gone,\nin much dung, which before the doors\nfrom mules and cattle was poured in abundance, until the servants\nof Odysseus should lead it to the great field for manuring;\nthere the dog Argos lay, full of dog-ticks.\nThen truly, when he perceived that Odysseus was near,\nhe wagged his tail and dropped both ears,\nbut no longer after that was he able to come near his own master;\nbut Odysseus looked away and wiped away a tear,\neasily escaping Eumaios' notice, and right away questioned him with a word:\nEumaios, truly it is a great wonder that this dog lies in the dung.\nHe is beautiful in body, but this I don't know clearly,\nwhether he was also swift to run, matching this appearance,\nor just such as the table-dogs of men\nbecome; for masters tend them for their splendor.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:\nYes indeed, this is the dog of a man who died far away.\nIf he were such in body and in deeds\nas when Odysseus left him, going to Troy,\nyou would quickly marvel, seeing his speed and his strength.\nFor he never fled from any beast in the depths\nof the deep wood, whatever he chased; for he was excellent at tracking;\nbut now he is held by misery, and his master has perished\nelsewhere from his fatherland, and careless women don't tend him.\nAnd servants, when masters no longer rule over them,\nno longer want to do what is right;\nfor far-seeing Zeus takes away half\nof a man's virtue, when the day of slavery seizes him.\nSo saying he entered the well-built house,\nand went straight to the hall among the lordly suitors.\nAnd the doom of black death took Argos,\nat once, when he saw Odysseus in the twentieth year.\nAnd godlike Telemachos saw the swineherd first, far before the others,\ncoming through the house, and quickly then\nhe nodded to him, calling him; and he looked around and took a chair\nthat lay there, where the carver used to sit, carving\nmuch meat for the suitors feasting through the house;\nthis he brought and set near Telemachos' table,\nopposite, and there he himself sat down; and a herald\ntook a portion and set it before him, and bread from a basket.\nAnd close after him Odysseus entered the house,\nlike a wretched beggar and an old man,\nleaning on a staff; and he wore wretched clothes on his skin.\nAnd he sat down on the ash-wood threshold inside the doors,\nleaning against a cypress doorpost, which a carpenter once\nsmoothed skillfully and set straight by the line.\nAnd Telemachos called to him and spoke to the swineherd,\ntaking a whole loaf from the beautiful basket\nand meat, as much as his hands could hold when he filled them:\nGive these to the stranger, carrying them, and tell him himself\nto beg from all the suitors, going around to each;\nfor shame is not good to be present with a man in need.\nSo he spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word,\nand standing near he spoke winged words:\nTelemachos gives you these, stranger, and tells you\nto beg from all the suitors, going around to each;\nfor he says shame is not good for a begging man.\nAnd many-minded Odysseus answered him:\nLord Zeus, may Telemachos be blessed among men,\nand may all things be his, as many as he desires in his heart.\nSo he spoke, and with both hands he received it and set it down\nthere before his feet, on his unseemly pouch,\nand he ate while the singer sang in the halls;\nand when he had dined, the divine singer stopped.\nAnd the suitors clamored through the hall. And Athene,\nstanding near, urged Laertes' son Odysseus\nto gather loaves among the suitors,\nand to learn who were the righteous and who the lawless;\nbut not even so was she going to ward off evil from any one of them.\nHe went to beg, going from the right, each man,\nstretching out his hand on every side, as if he had long been a beggar.\nAnd they, pitying him, gave, and marveled at him,\nand asked one another who he was and where he came from.\nAnd Melanthios also spoke among them, the goatherd of goats:\nHear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,\nabout this stranger; for truly I saw him before.\nIndeed the swineherd led him here,\nbut I don't know clearly where he claims his lineage is from.\nSo he spoke, and Antinoos reviled the swineherd with words:\nO famous swineherd, why did you lead this man\nto the town? Don't we have enough other vagabonds,\ntiresome beggars, scrubbers of feasts?\nDo you begrudge that they eat up the master's livelihood\ngathering here, and you even called this one besides?\nAnd you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:\nAntinoos, though you are noble, you speak no fair word.\nFor who calls a stranger from elsewhere, himself coming,\nanother one, unless he is one of the public workers,\na seer or a healer of ills or a carpenter of beams,\nor even a divine singer, who delights by singing?\nFor these are the summoned ones of mortals over the boundless earth;\nbut no one would call a beggar who devours himself.\nBut you are always harsh above all the suitors\ntoward the servants of Odysseus, and especially toward me; but I\ndon't care, as long as thoughtful Penelope\nlives in the halls and godlike Telemachos.\nAnd prudent Telemachos answered him:\nBe quiet, don't answer him with many words;\nAntinoos is used to provoking evilly\nwith harsh words, and he stirs up others too.\nSo he spoke, and addressed winged words to Antinoos:\nAntinoos, truly you care for me finely as a father for his son,\nyou who tell the stranger to be thrust from the hall\nwith a compelling word; may no god accomplish this.\nTake and give to him; I don't begrudge it; indeed I tell you to.\nAnd don't reverence my mother in this, nor any other\nof the servants, who are in the house of godlike Odysseus.\nBut no such thought is in your breast;\nfor you yourself want to eat much rather than give to another.\nAnd Antinoos answered him:\nTelemachos, loud-vaunting, unrestrained in fury, what a word you have spoken.\nIf all the suitors would reach out so much to him,\nthen his house would hold him off three months.\nSo he spoke, and taking a footstool from beneath the table\nhe showed it, where he used to rest his shining feet while feasting;\nand all the others gave, and they filled his pouch\nwith bread and meat; and soon Odysseus was about\nto go again to the threshold, to taste the gifts of the Achaeans;\nbut he stood by Antinoos and spoke a word to him:\nGive, friend; you don't seem to me to be the worst\nof the Achaeans, but the best, since you look like a king.\nSo you ought to give even better than the others,\nbread; and I will praise you over the boundless earth.\nFor I too once lived in a house among men,\nblessed and rich, and often I gave to a wanderer,\nsuch as he was and in whatever need he came;\nand I had countless servants and many other things\nwith which men live well and are called rich.\nBut Zeus the son of Kronos destroyed it—for he wanted it somehow—\nwho sent me with much-wandering pirates\nto go to Egypt, a long journey, so that I might perish.\nI stationed my curved ships at the Egyptian river.\nThen truly I told my trusty companions\nto stay there by the ships and guard the ships,\nand I urged scouts to go to the lookout places.\nBut they, yielding to insolence, following their own fury,\nright away laid waste the very beautiful fields of the Egyptian men,\nand led away the women and the infant children,\nand killed the men themselves; and quickly a cry reached the city.\nAnd they, hearing the shout as the dawn appeared,\ncame; and the whole plain was filled with footmen and horses\nand the flash of bronze; and Zeus who delights in thunder\ncast a base rout on my companions, and no one dared\nstand against them; for evils stood around on every side.\nThere they killed many of us with the sharp bronze,\nand led others away alive, to work for them by necessity.\nBut me they gave to a stranger they met in Cyprus,\nto Dmetor, son of Iasos, who ruled Cyprus by force;\nfrom there indeed I have now come here, suffering woes.\nAnd Antinoos answered him and said:\nWhat god brought this woe, this annoyance of the feast?\nStand there in the middle, away from my table,\nin case you soon reach bitter Egypt and Cyprus;\nfor you are a bold and shameless beggar.\nIn turn you stand by everyone; and they give\nat random, since there is no restraint nor pity\nin giving from others' goods, since plenty is at hand for each.\nAnd withdrawing, many-minded Odysseus said:\nAh me, so your mind doesn't match your looks;\nyou wouldn't give even salt to your own house-master from your house,\nyou who now sit by others' goods and didn't dare\nto take bread and give it to me; yet much is present.\nSo he spoke, and Antinoos grew angrier in his heart,\nand looking at him darkly he spoke winged words:\nNow indeed I think you will no longer go back\nfairly through the hall, since you utter reproaches too.\nSo he spoke, and taking a footstool he struck him on the right shoulder,\nat the very bottom of his back; and he stood like a rock\nfirm, and the missile of Antinoos didn't make him stagger,\nbut silently he nodded his head, brooding evils.\nAnd back he went and sat down on the threshold, and set down his pouch\nwell filled, and spoke among the suitors:\nHear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,\nwhile I say what my spirit in my breast tells me.\nThere is no grief in my mind nor any sorrow\nwhen a man is struck while fighting for his own possessions,\neither for cattle or for white sheep;\nbut Antinoos struck me for the sake of my wretched belly,\naccursed, which gives many evils to men.\nBut if there are gods and Furies for beggars,\nmay the doom of death come on Antinoos before his marriage.\nAnd Antinoos, son of Eupeithes, answered him:\nEat in peace, stranger, sitting still, or go elsewhere,\nin case the young men drag you through the house for the words you speak,\nby foot or by hand, and tear you all to pieces.\nSo he spoke, and all of them were exceedingly indignant;\nand one of the overbearing young men said:\nAntinoos, you didn't strike the wretched wanderer fairly,\naccursed, if there is indeed some heavenly god.\nAnd gods, likened to foreign strangers,\ntaking all sorts of forms, roam the cities,\nwatching the insolence and the good order of men.\nSo the suitors spoke, but he paid no heed to their words.\nAnd Telemachos in his heart increased great grief\nat the blow, but he let no tear fall to the ground from his eyelids,\nbut silently he nodded his head, brooding evils.\nAnd when wise Penelope heard of him\nstruck in the hall, she spoke among her slave women:\nIf only far-famed Apollo would strike that man himself.\nAnd the housekeeper Eurynome spoke a word to her:\nIf only accomplishment would come to our prayers;\nthen none of these would reach the fair-throned Dawn.\nAnd wise Penelope answered her:\nNurse, all of them are hateful, since they devise evils;\nbut Antinoos most of all resembles black doom.\nSome wretched stranger wanders through the house\nbegging from men; for need compels him;\nand there all the others both filled him and gave,\nbut this one struck his right shoulder with a footstool.\nSo she spoke among her slave women,\nsitting in her chamber; and godlike Odysseus dined;\nand she called to her and spoke to the godlike swineherd:\nGo, godlike Eumaios, go and tell the stranger\nto come, so that I may greet him and ask him\nwhether he has heard anything of steadfast Odysseus\nor seen him with his eyes; for he looks like one much wandered.\nAnd you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:\nIf only, queen, the Achaeans would be silent;\nsuch things as he tells, your dear heart would be charmed.\nFor I kept him three nights, and three days I detained him\nin my hut; for first he came to me after escaping from his ship;\nbut he hasn't yet finished the misery he tells.\nAs when a man gazes at a singer, who from the gods\nsings, knowing lovely words for mortals,\nand they are insatiably eager to hear him whenever he sings;\nso that man charmed me, sitting beside me in the halls.\nAnd he says he is a guest-friend of Odysseus by inheritance,\nliving in Crete, where the race of Minos is.\nFrom there indeed he has now come here, suffering woes,\nrolling on and on; and he claims he has heard of Odysseus,\nnearby, in the rich district of the Thesprotian men,\nthat he is alive; and he brings many treasures home to this house.\nAnd wise Penelope answered him:\nGo, call him here, so that he may himself tell me face to face.\nAnd let these men sit and amuse themselves at the doors,\nor here through the house, since their heart is merry.\nFor their own possessions lie unspoiled in the house,\nbread and sweet wine; these the household eats,\nbut they, coming to our house every day,\nsacrificing cattle and sheep and fat goats,\nfeast and drink the flaming wine,\nat random; and much is consumed. For there is no longer a man\nsuch as Odysseus was, to ward off ruin from the house.\nBut if Odysseus would come and reach his fatherland,\nsoon with his son he would exact payment for the violence of the men.\nSo she spoke, and Telemachos sneezed greatly, and through the house\nit rang terribly; and Penelope laughed,\nand right away she spoke winged words to Eumaios:\nGo, call the stranger here before me.\nDon't you see that my son sneezed at all my words?\nTherefore death shall not be unaccomplished for the suitors,\nfor all of them, nor shall any escape death and the fates.\nAnd I will tell you another thing, and do you set it in your mind:\nif I find him telling all things truthfully,\nI will clothe him in cloak and tunic, beautiful garments.\nSo she spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word;\nand standing near he spoke winged words:\nStranger and father, wise Penelope calls you,\nthe mother of Telemachos; the desire of her heart\ntells her to inquire about her husband, though she has suffered griefs.\nAnd if she finds you telling all things truthfully,\nshe will clothe you in cloak and tunic, which you most\nneed; and bread, begging through the district,\nyou will feed your belly; and whoever wishes will give you.\nAnd much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:\nEumaios, right away I would tell all things truthfully\nto the daughter of Ikarios, wise Penelope;\nfor I know well about him, and we have shared the same sorrow.\nBut I dread the crowd of harsh suitors,\nwhose insolence and violence reach the iron heaven.\nFor even now, when this man struck me as I came through the house,\nthough I had done no wrong, and gave me pains,\nneither Telemachos helped in this nor any other.\nTherefore now tell Penelope in the halls\nto wait, though she is eager, until the sun sets;\nand then let her ask me about the day of her husband's homecoming,\nhaving seated me closer by the fire; for I have\nwretched clothes; you yourself know, since I first supplicated you.\nSo he spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word.\nAnd Penelope spoke to him as he crossed the threshold:\nYou are not bringing him, Eumaios; why did the wanderer think this?\nIs he fearing someone excessively, or does he otherwise\nfeel shame in the house? A base wanderer is a shameful one.\nAnd you answered her, Eumaios the swineherd:\nHe speaks with reason, as any other man would think,\navoiding the insolence of overbearing men.\nBut he tells you to wait until the sun sets.\nAnd for you yourself, queen, it is much better\nto speak and listen to a word alone with the stranger.\nAnd wise Penelope answered him:\nThe stranger is not foolish; he thinks as it would be;\nfor nowhere do any such mortal men\ndevise reckless things in their insolence.\nSo she spoke, and the godlike swineherd went\ninto the crowd of suitors, when he had told her everything.\nAnd right away he spoke winged words to Telemachos,\nholding his head near, so that the others might not hear:\nDear friend, I am going away, to guard the swine and those things,\nyour livelihood and mine; but let all things here be your care.\nFirst save yourself, and consider in your heart\nin case you suffer something; for many of the Achaeans plan evils,\nwhom may Zeus destroy before they become a woe to us.\nAnd prudent Telemachos answered him:\nIt will be so, father; but go, after your evening meal;\nand at dawn come and bring fine sacrificial victims;\nand all these things will be my care and the immortals'.\nSo he spoke, and he sat down again on the well-polished chair,\nand having filled his heart with food and drink\nhe went to the swine, and left the pens and the hall,\nfull of banqueters; and they with dancing and song\ndelighted themselves; for now the late day had come.\n\n### Book 18\n\nA common beggar came in, who through the town\nbegged in Ithaca, and was noted for his greedy belly,\nendlessly eating and drinking; he had no strength\nand no force, though he was very big to look at.\nArnaeus was his name; his noble mother gave it to him\nat birth; but all the young men called him Irus,\nbecause he carried messages whenever someone asked.\nHe came and drove Odysseus out of his own house,\nand, scolding him, spoke winged words:\nGive way, old man, from the doorway, or you will soon be dragged by the foot.\nDon't you hear how they all wink at me\nand tell me to drag you out? Still, I'm ashamed to.\nGet up, or we'll soon have a quarrel and blows.\nGlaring at him, clever Odysseus replied:\nStrange man, I'm doing you no harm and saying none,\nand I don't begrudge anyone giving, even one who has taken a lot.\nThis threshold will hold us both, and you shouldn't\nbegrudge another's goods; you look to me like a wanderer\njust like me; but the gods may give wealth.\nDon't provoke me too much with your hands, or you'll make me angry,\nand then, old as I am, I'll smear your chest and lips\nwith blood; then there'd be more peace for me\ntomorrow; I don't think you'll come back\na second time to the hall of Odysseus, son of Laertes.\nAngry, the beggar Irus answered him:\nGood heavens, how glibly this greedy glutton talks,\njust like an old woman at the oven! I'd plan trouble for him,\nhitting with both fists, and I'd knock all his teeth\nout of his jaws to the ground, like a plundering sow.\nGird yourself now, so all these men may know\nwe're fighting; how could you fight a younger man?\nSo the two of them, in front of the high doors,\non the polished threshold, quarreled with all their heart.\nAntinous' sacred fury understood them,\nand laughing sweetly he said to the suitors:\nFriends, nothing like this has ever happened before,\nwhat a pleasure a god has brought to this house.\nThe stranger and Irus are challenging each other\nto fight with their hands; come, let's match them quickly.\nHe spoke, and they all jumped up laughing,\nand gathered around the two badly dressed beggars.\nAntinous, son of Eupeithes, said to them:\nListen to me, proud suitors, so I can say something.\nThese goat paunches lie in the fire, which for supper\nwe set there, filled with fat and blood.\nWhichever of the two wins and proves stronger,\nlet him get up and take whichever one he wants.\nHe'll always share meals with us after that, and we won't let\nany other beggar come in and beg among us.\nSo Antinous spoke, and the plan pleased them.\nBut clever Odysseus, with a crafty mind, said to them:\nFriends, an old man worn down by misery can't\nfight a younger one; but my belly,\nthe troublemaker, pushes me on to be beaten down by blows.\nCome now, all of you swear me a strong oath\nthat no one, to please Irus, will strike me with a heavy hand\nout of wickedness, and so overpower me for him.\nHe spoke, and they all swore as he asked.\nWhen they had sworn and finished the oath,\nthen the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke to them:\nStranger, if your heart and proud spirit urge you\nto fight this man off, don't fear any other\nof the Achaeans, since whoever strikes you will have many to fight.\nI am your host, and the princes approve it,\nboth Antinous and Eurymachus, both sensible men.\nHe spoke, and they all approved. Then Odysseus\ngirded his rags around his waist, and showed his thighs,\nbeautiful and big, and his broad shoulders appeared,\nhis chest and sturdy arms. Then Athena\nstood close and made the limbs of the shepherd of the people grow stronger.\nAll the suitors were hugely amazed,\nand one would say, looking at his neighbor:\nSoon Irus will get a self-invited trouble,\nsuch a thigh the old man shows from his rags!\nSo they said, and the spirit of Irus was stirred to trouble.\nBut even so the servants brought him, girding him by force,\nterrified; his flesh trembled over his limbs.\nAntinous scolded him and spoke and named him:\nNow may you not exist, you blusterer, nor ever have been,\nif you are trembling before this man and terribly afraid,\nan old man worn down by misery that has come on him.\nBut I'll tell you plainly, and it will be done:\nif this man beats you and proves stronger,\nI'll send you to the mainland, throwing you in a black ship,\nto King Echetus, the destroyer of all mortals,\nwho will cut off your nose and ears with pitiless bronze,\nand tear out your privates and give them raw to the dogs.\nHe spoke, and trembling seized his limbs even more.\nThey led them to the middle; both raised their hands.\nThen much-enduring, brilliant Odysseus considered\nwhether to hit him so his life left him fallen there,\nor to hit him lightly and stretch him on the ground.\nAs he thought, it seemed better to him\nto hit lightly, so the Achaeans wouldn't notice him.\nThen as they raised their hands, Irus struck his right shoulder,\nand the other struck his neck under the ear, and crushed the bones\ninside; at once crimson blood came through his mouth,\nand he fell bellowing in the dust, gnashing his teeth\nand kicking the ground with his feet; and the noble suitors\nraised their hands and died of laughter. But Odysseus\ngrabbed his foot and dragged him through the doorway until he reached the court\nand the porch doors; and against the courtyard wall\nhe set him, leaning him back, and put his staff in his hand,\nand spoke and addressed him with winged words:\nSit here now and keep off the pigs and dogs,\nand don't be a lord over strangers and beggars,\nwretched as you are, or you may get something even worse.\nHe spoke, and slung his ugly wallet over his shoulders,\nall torn, with a twisted cord for a strap.\nThen he went back and sat down on the threshold; and they went in,\nlaughing sweetly and greeting him with words:\nMay Zeus give you, stranger, and the other immortal gods,\nwhatever you most want and is dear to your heart,\nsince you've stopped this glutton from begging\namong the people; soon we'll take him to the mainland,\nto King Echetus, the destroyer of all mortals.\nSo they said, and brilliant Odysseus rejoiced at the omen.\nAntinous set a big paunch before him,\nfull of fat and blood; and Amphinomus\nlifted two loaves from the basket and set them beside him,\nand toasted him with a golden cup, and said:\nGreetings, father stranger, may you have\nwealth in the future; but now you're held by many troubles.\nAnswering him, clever Odysseus said:\nAmphinomus, you really seem to me a sensible man,\nfrom a father like that too, since I heard his good name,\nthat Nisus of Dulichium was noble and rich;\nthey say you're his son, and you look like a courteous man.\nSo I'll tell you, and you mark it and hear me:\nEarth feeds nothing weaker than man,\nof all things that breathe and creep on the earth.\nFor he never thinks he'll suffer evil in the future,\nas long as the gods give him excellence and his knees are nimble.\nBut when the blessed gods bring troubles to pass,\nhe bears them too, unwilling, with an enduring heart.\nFor such is the mind of men on earth\nas the day the father of men and gods brings on.\nI too was once meant to be happy among men,\nand I did many reckless things, yielding to force and might,\ntrusting my father and my brothers.\nSo let no man ever be completely lawless,\nbut let him quietly keep whatever gifts the gods give.\nI see the suitors recklessly plotting such things,\nwasting the property and dishonoring the wife\nof a man who, I say, will not be away long from his friends\nand his homeland; he is very near. But may some god\nlead you home out of the way, and may you not meet him\nwhen he comes back to his dear homeland.\nFor I don't think they'll part without blood,\nthe suitors and that man, once he comes under the roof.\nSo he spoke, and after the libation drank the honey-sweet wine,\nand put the cup back in the hands of the marshal of the people.\nBut he went through the house, grieved at heart,\nnodding with his head; for his spirit foresaw evil.\nBut even so he didn't escape his fate; Athena bound him too\nto be overpowered by the hands and spear of Telemachus.\nThen he sat down again on the chair he had risen from.\nThe goddess, bright-eyed Athena, put it into the mind\nof the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\nto appear before the suitors, so she might most\nlift the hearts of the suitors and be more honored\nby her husband and son than she had been before.\nShe laughed pointlessly and spoke and named the word:\nEurynome, my heart longs, as never before,\nto appear before the suitors, hateful as they are to me.\nAnd I'd say a word to my son that would be better for him,\nnot to mix in everything with the overbearing suitors,\nwho speak well to your face and think evil behind your back.\nThe housekeeper Eurynome answered her:\nYes indeed, child, you've said all this as you should.\nBut go and speak a word to your son, don't hide it,\nafter washing your skin and anointing your cheeks.\nAnd don't go with your face so smeared with tears,\nsince it's worse to mourn endlessly all the time.\nYour son is already old enough, the one you most\nprayed to the immortals to see with a beard.\nThen wise Penelope answered her:\nEurynome, don't urge me to that, careful as you are,\nto wash my skin and anoint myself with oil.\nThe gods who hold Olympus destroyed my beauty\nfrom the time that man went off in the hollow ships.\nBut tell Autonoe and Hippodamia\nto come, so they can stand beside me in the hall.\nI won't go in among men alone; I'm ashamed to.\nSo she spoke, and the old woman went through the hall\nto tell the women and urge them to come.\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, thought of something else:\nshe poured sweet sleep on the daughter of Icarius,\nand she slept, leaning back, and all her limbs went loose\nthere on the couch; meanwhile the shining goddess\ngave immortal gifts, so the Achaeans would marvel at her.\nFirst she cleansed her beautiful face with beauty,\nwith ambrosial oil, the kind fair-crowned Cytherea\nanoints herself with when she goes to the lovely dance of the Graces.\nShe made her taller and fuller to look at,\nand made her whiter than sawn ivory.\nHaving done this, the shining goddess left,\nand the white-armed maids came from the hall\nwith voices as they came; and sweet sleep released her,\nand she wiped her cheeks with her hands and said:\nAh, soft sleep has covered me, sorely afflicted as I am.\nIf only holy Artemis would give me so soft a death\nright now, so that I might no longer, grieving in my heart,\nwaste away my life, longing for my dear husband\nand all his excellence, since he was outstanding among the Achaeans.\nSo speaking she came down the shining upper stairs,\nnot alone; two maids followed with her.\nWhen the shining one among women came to the suitors,\nshe stood by the doorpost of the well-built roof,\nholding her shining veil before her cheeks,\nand a faithful maid stood on either side of her.\nTheir knees went loose right there, and their hearts were charmed with desire,\nand all prayed to lie beside her in bed.\nShe addressed Telemachus, her dear son:\nTelemachus, your mind is no longer steady, nor your thought.\nWhen you were still a child you managed your thoughts with more sense.\nBut now that you're grown and have reached the measure of youth,\nand someone might say you're the son of a blessed man,\nlooking at your size and beauty, even a stranger,\nyour thoughts are no longer decent, nor your mind.\nWhat a deed has been done in the hall,\nthat you let the stranger be so shamefully treated!\nHow now, if a stranger in our house\nsitting here suffered such painful dragging about?\nIt would be disgrace and shame for you among people.\nThen sensible Telemachus answered her:\nMother, I don't blame you for being angry.\nBut I see in my heart and know each thing,\nboth the good and the worse; before I was still a child.\nBut I can't understand everything wisely.\nThese men sitting by me strike me from this side and that,\nthese who think evil, and I have no one to help me.\nStill, the fight between the stranger and Irus didn't happen\nby the will of the suitors; he was stronger by force.\nIf only, father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,\nthe suitors in our house now\nwere nodding their heads in subjection, some in the courtyard,\nsome inside the house, and every man's limbs were loose,\nas now that Irus at the courtyard doors\nsits nodding his head, like a drunk man,\nand can't stand upright on his feet or go\nhome, where his way home is, since his dear limbs are loose.\nSo the two of them said such things to each other.\nEurymachus addressed Penelope with words:\nDaughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\nif all the Achaeans throughout Iasian Argos saw you,\nmore suitors would feast in your house\nfrom dawn, since you surpass all women\nin beauty and stature and in the mind within you.\nThen wise Penelope answered him:\nEurymachus, the immortals destroyed my excellence\nand beauty and form, when the Argives went up\nto Ilium, and with them went my husband Odysseus.\nIf that man came and cared for my life,\nmy glory would be greater and fairer.\nBut now I grieve; a god has heaped so many troubles on me.\nIndeed, when he left his homeland behind,\nhe took my hand by the wrist and said to me:\nWife, I don't think the well-greaved Achaeans\nwill all come back safely from Troy.\nThey say the Trojans are fighting men,\nboth spearmen and shooters of arrows,\nand riders of swift-footed horses, who most quickly\ndecide the great strife of leveling war.\nSo I don't know whether a god will release me or I'll be taken\nthere in Troy; but let everything here be your care.\nRemember my father and mother in the hall,\nas now, or even more while I'm far away.\nAnd when you see our son bearded,\nmarry whoever you wish, leaving your house behind.\nSo he spoke; and now all this is being fulfilled.\nThere will be a night when a hateful marriage meets me,\nin my accursed case, from whom Zeus has taken prosperity.\nBut this dread grief comes on my heart and spirit:\nthis was not the way of suitors in former times.\nThose who want to court a good woman and a rich man's daughter\nand vie with one another,\nthey themselves bring cattle and sturdy sheep,\na feast for the girl's friends, and give shining gifts.\nThey don't eat up another's livelihood without paying.\nSo she spoke, and much-enduring, brilliant Odysseus rejoiced,\nbecause she drew gifts from them and charmed their hearts\nwith gentle words, while her mind intended other things.\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, addressed her:\nDaughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\nwhoever of the Achaeans wishes to bring gifts here,\naccept them; it's not noble to refuse a gift.\nBut we won't go to our work, or anywhere else,\nbefore you marry whichever Achaean is best.\nSo Antinous spoke, and the plan pleased them,\nand each sent a herald to bring gifts.\nFor Antinous he brought a big, very beautiful robe,\nembroidered; and on it were twelve brooches, all\nof gold, fitted with well-bent clasps.\nAnd for Eurymachus he brought at once a richly worked necklace,\nof gold strung with amber, like the sun.\nAnd for Eurydamas two servants brought earrings,\nwith three beads, carefully made; much grace shone from them.\nAnd from Pisander, son of Polyctor, the prince,\na servant brought a necklace, a very beautiful ornament.\nAnd each of the other Achaeans brought a fine gift.\nThen the shining one among women went up to the upper rooms,\nand her maids carried the very beautiful gifts with her;\nand the men turned to dancing and lovely song,\nand took their pleasure, and waited for evening to come.\nAnd as they took their pleasure, dark evening came on them.\nAt once they set three torches in the hall,\nto give light; and around them they put dry wood,\nlong dried, seasoned, newly split with bronze,\nand mixed in pine splinters; and in turn they kept the flames alive,\nthe maidservants of much-enduring Odysseus. But he\nhimself, god-born, clever Odysseus, said to them:\nMaids of Odysseus, whose master has long been gone,\ngo to the rooms where your revered queen is,\nand whirl the spindles beside her, and delight her\nas you sit in the hall, or card wool with your hands.\nAnd I'll provide light for all these men.\nFor even if they want to wait for well-throned Dawn,\nthey won't beat me; I'm very much-enduring.\nSo he spoke, and they laughed and looked at one another.\nFair-cheeked Melantho scolded him shamefully,\nthe one Dolius fathered but Penelope raised,\nand cherished like a child, and gave her toys to please her heart.\nBut even so she had no grief for Penelope in her mind,\nbut she slept with Eurymachus and loved him.\nShe scolded Odysseus with reproachful words:\nWretched stranger, you're surely someone whose wits are addled.\nYou won't go sleep in the smithy\nor somewhere in a public portico, but here you talk a lot,\nboldly among many men, and in your heart\nyou're not afraid. Either wine has hold of your wits, or always\nyour mind is like that; and so you talk nonsense.\nAre you out of your mind because you beat Irus the beggar?\nLest someone better than Irus soon rise against you,\nwho, striking you about the head with sturdy hands,\nmay send you out of the house, smeared with much blood.\nGlaring at her, clever Odysseus said:\nSoon I'll tell Telemachus, you dog, what you're saying,\ngoing to him, so he cuts you limb from limb.\nSo speaking, he terrified the women with his words.\nThey went through the house, and each woman's limbs went loose\nwith terror; for they thought he had spoken the truth.\nBut he, giving light beside the burning torches,\nstood looking at them all; and his heart kept pondering\nin his breast other things, which were not to go unaccomplished.\nAnd Athena didn't let the suitors, proud as they were,\nhold back from heart-paining outrage, so that even more\ngrief might enter the heart of Laertes' son Odysseus.\nAmong them Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak,\ntaunting Odysseus; and he made his comrades laugh.\nListen to me, suitors of the far-famed queen,\nso I can say what my heart in my breast commands me.\nNot without a god has this man come to Odysseus' house.\nIt seems to me there's a gleam of torches from him,\nfrom his head, since he has no hair on it at all.\nSo he spoke, and at the same time addressed Odysseus, sacker of cities:\nStranger, would you be willing to work as a hired man, if I took you on,\non the edge of the farm, and your pay will be enough,\ngathering stones for walls and planting tall trees?\nThere I'd give you grain in plenty,\nand clothe you and give you shoes for your feet.\nBut since you've learned base work, you won't be willing\nto go about a job, but you'd rather cringe through the country\nso you can feed your insatiable belly.\nAnswering him, clever Odysseus said:\nEurymachus, if only there were a contest of work between us two\nin the spring season, when the days grow long,\nin the meadow, and I held a well-curved sickle,\nand you held one too, so we could test the work\nfasting till dark, with plenty of grass.\nOr if there were cattle to drive, the very best,\ntawny, big, both glutted with grass,\nthe same age, equal in strength, and their might not weak,\nand there were a four-acre field, and the soil gave way to the plow,\nthen you'd see me, if I cut a straight furrow through.\nOr if Cronos' son should stir up war from somewhere\ntoday, and I had a shield and two spears\nand a helmet all of bronze, fitted to my temples,\nthen you'd see me mingling among the foremost fighters,\nand you wouldn't reproach me about my belly.\nBut you're very insolent, and your mind is harsh.\nYou think you're some great and mighty man,\nbecause you keep company with few men, and those not good.\nBut if Odysseus came and reached his homeland,\nquickly the doorway, broad as it is,\nwould grow narrow for you as you fled out through the porch.\nSo he spoke, and Eurymachus grew angrier in his heart,\nand glaring at him spoke winged words:\nAh, wretch, soon I'll work you evil for what you say\nso boldly among many men, and in your heart\nyou're not afraid. Either wine has hold of your wits, or always\nyour mind is like that; and so you talk nonsense.\nAre you out of your mind because you beat Irus the beggar?\nSo speaking he seized a footstool; but Odysseus\nsat down at the knees of Amphinomus of Dulichium,\nin fear of Eurymachus; and he struck the cupbearer's right hand.\nThe pitcher fell to the ground with a clang,\nand he groaned and fell on his back in the dust.\nThe suitors clamored through the shadowy halls,\nand one would say, looking at his neighbor:\nIf only the wandering stranger had died elsewhere\nbefore he came; then he wouldn't have raised so much noise.\nBut now we're quarreling about beggars, and there'll be no\npleasure in a good feast, since the worse wins.\nThen the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke among them:\nStrange men, you're mad, and you no longer hide in your hearts\nfood or drink; surely some god is stirring you up.\nBut feast well and go home and lie down,\nwhenever your heart bids you; I don't drive anyone away.\nSo he spoke, and they all bit their lips with their teeth\nand marveled at Telemachus, that he spoke so boldly.\nThen Amphinomus spoke to them and said,\nthe shining son of Nisus, son of lord Aretias:\nFriends, surely no one would be angry, attacking with hostile words,\nat what has been justly said.\nDon't strike the stranger, or any other\nof the servants who are in the house of divine Odysseus.\nBut come, let the cupbearer begin with the cups,\nso after the libation we can go home and lie down.\nAnd let's leave the stranger in the halls of Odysseus\nto be cared for by Telemachus, for he's come to his dear house.\nSo he spoke, and said a word pleasing to them all.\nAnd the hero Mulius mixed a bowl for them,\na herald of Dulichium; he was a servant of Amphinomus.\nHe served it to all in turn; and they, to the gods\nafter the libation to the blessed ones, drank honey-sweet wine.\nBut when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,\nthey went each to his own house to lie down.\n\n### Book 19\n\nBut noble Odysseus was left behind in the hall,\nthinking over with Athena how to kill the suitors.\nHe quickly spoke winged words to Telemachus:\nTelemachus, all the war gear has to be put away inside,\nevery bit of it; and with soft words you must\nput the suitors off when they ask you about it, missing it.\nI have stored it out of the smoke, since it is no longer like\nwhat Odysseus left behind when he went to Troy,\nbut it has been spoiled as far as the fire's blast has reached.\nAnd a god has put this bigger worry in my mind too,\nin case you get drunk and start a quarrel among yourselves\nand wound each other and disgrace the feast\nand the wooing; for iron all by itself pulls a man on.\nSo he said, and Telemachus obeyed his own dear father,\nand he called the nurse Eurycleia over and said to her:\nNurse, come on, shut the women inside the halls for me,\nuntil I put my father's weapons away in the storeroom,\nthe fine ones, which the smoke in the house is ruining while nobody cares,\nnow that my father is gone; and I was still a child.\nBut now I want to put them away where the fire's blast cannot reach them.\nThen the dear nurse Eurycleia answered him:\nIf only, child, you would take some sense at last\nand look after the house and guard all the property.\nBut come on, who will bring a light for you then?\nYou did not let the maids come forward, the ones who could give light.\nThen the sensible Telemachus answered her directly:\nThis stranger here; because I will not put up with an idle man\nwho touches my rations, even if he has come from far away.\nSo he spoke, and her word went no further without wings.\nHe locked the doors of the well-built halls.\nThen the two of them jumped up, Odysseus and his glorious son,\nand carried in the helmets and the bossed shields\nand the sharp-pointed spears; and ahead of them Pallas Athena,\nholding a golden lamp, made a very beautiful light.\nRight then Telemachus quickly spoke to his father:\nFather, this really is a great wonder that I see with my eyes.\nEven so, the walls of the hall and the fine cross-beams,\nand the fir-pitched rafters, and the columns standing up high,\nthey look to my eyes as if they were burning fire.\nSurely some god is inside, one of those who hold wide heaven.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nBe quiet, keep it inside your own mind and do not ask questions;\nthis is the way of the gods, who hold Olympus.\nBut you go and lie down, and I will stay behind here,\nso that I can still stir up the maids and your mother;\nand grieving, she will ask me about each thing.\nSo he spoke, and Telemachus had gone across the hall\nto lie down in his room, under the light of the torches,\nwhere he used to sleep before, when sweet sleep came over him;\nthere he lay down then too and waited for the shining Dawn.\nBut Odysseus was left behind in the hall,\nthinking over with Athena how to kill the suitors.\nThen wise Penelope came out of her room,\nlooking like Artemis or golden Aphrodite.\nBeside her they set a chair by the fire, where she sat,\ninlaid with ivory and silver; a craftsman once\nmade it, Icmalius, and he fixed a footstool under her feet\nthat grew out of the chair itself, and a thick fleece was thrown over it.\nThen wise Penelope sat down there.\nAnd the white-armed maids came in from the hall.\nThey took away the great quantity of grain and the tables\nand the cups, from which the arrogant men had been drinking;\nand they threw the fire from the torches down on the ground, and on top of them\nthey piled up a lot of wood, to give light and to warm the room.\nThen Melantho scolded Odysseus a second time again:\nStranger, are you still going to keep bothering us here through the night,\nturning around the house, and staring at the women?\nGet outside, you wretch, and enjoy the feast;\nor soon you may be hit with a firebrand and go outside too.\nThen much-devising Odysseus spoke, looking at her from under his brows:\nYou maddening woman, why do you come at me like this with anger in your heart?\nBecause I am filthy and wear foul clothes on my skin,\nand I beg around the country? Hard need drives me to it.\nPoor men and wanderers are like this;\nand I too once lived in a house among people,\na rich man, and I often used to give to a wanderer,\nwhatever kind of man he was and whatever he came needing;\nand I had countless slaves, and many other things as well\nby which men live well and are called rich.\nBut Cronion Zeus destroyed it; he wanted it, I suppose.\nSo you, woman, may you never lose all\nthe glory that you now have among the slave women;\nin case the mistress gets angry and is harsh with you,\nor Odysseus comes; there is still a chance of hope.\nBut if he is dead like that and is never coming back,\nstill there is now a son like this, thanks to Apollo,\nTelemachus; and no woman in the halls\nacts badly without him noticing, since he is no longer a child.\nSo he spoke, and wise Penelope heard him,\nand she scolded her maid, and said a word and called her by name:\nYou bold dog, shameless through and through, you do not escape my notice\ndoing a great wicked thing, and you will wipe it off on your own head.\nYou knew all of this perfectly well, since you heard it from me myself\nthat I meant to ask the stranger in my halls\nabout my husband, since I am deeply grieved.\nSo she spoke, and she said to the housekeeper Eurynome:\nEurynome, bring a chair now and a fleece to put on it,\nso that when the stranger sits down he can speak a word and listen\nto me; for I want to question him.\nSo she spoke, and she very quickly brought and set down\na well-polished chair, and she threw a fleece over it;\nthere then much-enduring noble Odysseus sat down.\nAnd among them wise Penelope began the talk:\nStranger, first of all I myself will ask you this:\nwho are you and where are you from? Where is your city and your parents?\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nLady, no man on the boundless earth could find fault with you;\nfor truly your fame reaches wide heaven,\nlike that of some blameless king, who fears the gods\nand rules over many men and strong ones,\nand upholds fair justice, and the black earth bears\nwheat and barley, and the trees are heavy with fruit,\nand the flocks keep bearing young, and the sea gives fish\nbecause he leads well, and the people prosper under him.\nSo ask me about the other things in your house,\nbut do not ask about my family and my homeland,\nin case you fill my heart with even more pain\nwhen I remember it; and I am very full of sorrow; and I should not\nsit in another man's house weeping and wailing,\nsince it is worse to go on mourning endlessly forever.\nIn case one of the maids resents me, or you yourself,\nand says I am swimming in tears, my mind weighed down with wine.\nThen wise Penelope answered him:\nStranger, truly the immortals destroyed my excellence and my looks\nand my body, when the Argives went up to Ilion,\nand among them went my own husband Odysseus.\nIf that man came and looked after my life,\nmy fame would be greater and finer that way.\nBut now I grieve; a god has piled so many troubles on me.\nFor all the best men who rule the islands,\nDulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus,\nand those who live around Ithaca itself with its fine view,\nthey court me against my will, and they wear out my house.\nSo I pay no attention to strangers or to suppliants\nor to any heralds, who are public workers;\nbut longing for Odysseus, my dear husband, my heart melts away.\nThey are rushing the marriage; but I am spinning my tricks.\nFirst a god breathed a robe into my mind,\nwhen I had set up a big loom, to weave in the hall,\nfine and very wide; and at once I said to them:\nYoung men, my suitors, since noble Odysseus is dead,\nwait, eager as you are for my marriage, until I finish\nthis robe, so my weaving is not wasted,\na burial shroud for the hero Laertes, against the time when\nhis destructive fate of long-drawn death lays him low;\nin case one of the Achaean women in the country resents me,\nif a man who gained so much lies there without a shroud.\nSo I said, and their proud hearts were persuaded.\nThen by day I wove at the big loom,\nand at night I undid it, once I had set the torches beside me.\nSo for three years I hid it and kept the Achaeans fooled;\nbut when the fourth year came and the seasons came round,\nwith the months waning and many days completed,\nthen at last, through my maids, the shameless dogs,\nthey came on me and caught me and scolded me with words.\nSo I finished it, unwilling, under compulsion;\nbut now I cannot escape the marriage, nor can I find\nany other plan; my parents very much urge me\nto marry, and my son is upset, watching his property\nbeing eaten up; he understands; for now he is a man, quite able\nto look after the house, and Zeus gives him glory.\nBut all the same, tell me your family, where you are from.\nYou are not from the famous oak or from a rock.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nHonoured lady, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,\nwill you never stop asking about my birth?\nCome, I will tell you; but you really will hand me over to more griefs\nthan I already have; for it is the custom, when a man\nis away from his own country for as long a time as I am now,\nwandering over many cities of men, suffering pains.\nBut even so I will tell you what you are asking and inquiring about.\nThere is a land called Crete, in the middle of the wine-dark sea,\na fine rich place, surrounded by water; and in it there are men\nin great numbers, past counting, and ninety cities.\nAnd one language is mixed with another; there are Achaeans,\nthere are great-hearted Eteocretans, there are Cydonians,\nand the three-divided Dorians and the noble Pelasgians.\nIn these cities is Knossos, a great city, where Minos\nruled as a nine-year king, the companion of great Zeus,\nthe father of my father, great-hearted Deucalion.\nDeucalion fathered me and King Idomeneus.\nBut he went with the curved ships to Ilion\nalong with the sons of Atreus, and my famous name is Aethon,\nyounger by birth; he was older and better.\nThere I saw Odysseus and gave him guest-gifts.\nFor the force of the wind brought him down to Crete,\nas he was trying to reach Troy, and drove him off course past Malea;\nand he put in at Amnisos, where the cave of Eileithyia is,\nin hard harbours, and he barely escaped the storm.\nAt once I went up to the city and asked about Idomeneus;\nfor he said he was a dear and honoured friend of his.\nBut it was now the tenth or the eleventh dawn\nsince he had gone with the curved ships to Ilion.\nI brought him to my house and entertained him well,\ntreating him kindly, since there was plenty in the house;\nand to him and the other comrades who came with him\nI gave barley from the public store and dark wine, which I gathered,\nand cattle to sacrifice, so they could fill their hearts.\nThere the noble Achaeans stayed twelve days;\nfor the great North Wind held them down and did not\nlet them stand on the land, and some harsh god stirred it up.\nOn the thirteenth day the wind dropped, and they put out to sea.\nHe made up many lies and told them looking like the truth;\nand as she listened the tears flowed, and her skin melted away;\nthe way snow melts on the high-topped mountains,\nwhich the East Wind melts, after the West Wind pours it down,\nand as it melts the rivers run full as they flow;\nso her lovely cheeks melted as she poured out tears,\nweeping for the husband sitting beside her. But Odysseus\nin his heart pitied his weeping wife,\nyet his eyes stood still like horn or iron\nwithout moving under his lids; and he hid his tears by trickery.\nAnd when she had had enough of much-wept weeping,\nthen she answered him again with words and said:\nNow, stranger, I think I am going to test you,\nwhether you really entertained my husband there in your halls\nwith his godlike comrades, as you are saying.\nTell me what kind of clothes he had on his body,\nand what he himself was like, and the comrades who came with him.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nLady, it is hard, after being away so long,\nto tell it; for it is already the twentieth year\nsince he left that place and went away from my country.\nBut I will tell you as it appears to my heart.\nNoble Odysseus had a purple mantle, shaggy,\ndouble; and a brooch had been made for it of gold\nwith two sheaths; and on the front there was a figured design:\na dog was holding a dappled fawn in its forepaws,\ngripping it as it struggled; and everyone marvelled at it,\nhow, though they were gold, the one gripped and choked the fawn,\nwhile the other struggled with its feet, wanting to get away.\nAnd I noticed the tunic on his skin, gleaming,\njust like the skin of a dried onion;\nthat is how soft it was, and it shone like the sun;\nindeed many women admired it.\nAnd I will tell you something else, and put it in your mind:\nI do not know whether Odysseus wore these on his body at home,\nor some comrade gave them to him as he set out on the swift ship,\nor maybe some stranger, since Odysseus was\ndear to many; for few of the Achaeans were like him.\nAnd I gave him a bronze sword and a double cloak,\na fine purple one, and a fringed tunic,\nand I sent him off with honour on the well-benched ship.\nAnd a herald came with him, a little older than he was;\nand him too I will describe to you, what he was like.\nRound-shouldered, dark-skinned, with curly hair,\nhis name was Eurybates; and Odysseus honoured him beyond the others\nof his comrades, because he knew what suited his mind.\nSo he spoke, and he stirred in her even more desire to weep,\nas she recognised the sure tokens Odysseus had told her.\nAnd when she had had enough of much-wept weeping,\nthen she answered him with words and said:\nNow, stranger, though you were pitiable before,\nin my halls you will be dear and honoured;\nfor I myself gave those clothes you are describing,\nfolding them out of the storeroom, and I added the shining brooch\nto be a delight to him; but I will not welcome him again\ncoming home to his dear homeland.\nSo it was with an evil fate that Odysseus went on the hollow ship\nto look on evil Ilion, which should not be named.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nHonoured lady, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,\nstop now destroying your lovely skin, and stop melting\nyour heart, weeping for your husband. I do not blame you at all;\nfor any woman weeps for the man she has lost,\nher wedded husband, to whom she bore children in love,\nor for Odysseus, whom they say is like the gods.\nBut stop the weeping, and listen to what I say;\nfor I will tell you the truth and I will not hide it,\nhow I have already heard about the return of Odysseus\nclose by, in the rich country of the Thesprotian men,\nthat he is alive; and he is bringing back many good treasures,\ncollecting them by begging around the country. But his trusty comrades\nhe lost, and the hollow ship, in the wine-dark sea,\ncoming from the island of Thrinacia; for Zeus and Helios\nwere angry with him; his comrades killed the cattle of Helios.\nThey all died in the much-surging sea;\nbut the wave threw him up on the keel of the ship onto dry land,\ninto the land of the Phaeacians, who are near to the gods,\nwho honoured him from their hearts like a god\nand gave him many gifts, and themselves wanted to send him\nhome unharmed. And Odysseus would have been here long ago;\nbut it seemed better to him in his heart\nto go collecting goods over a great deal of land;\nso well does Odysseus know the many ways of profiting among mortal men,\nand no other mortal could compete with him.\nThat is what Pheidon, king of the Thesprotians, told me;\nand he swore to me himself, pouring a libation in his house,\nthat the ship was hauled down and the crew was ready,\nmen who would send him to his dear homeland.\nBut he sent me away first; a ship happened to be coming\nof Thesprotian men to Dulichium, rich in wheat.\nAnd he showed me the treasure, all that Odysseus had gathered;\nand it would feed another family to the tenth generation,\nso much treasure of the king lay in his halls.\nAnd he said he had gone to Dodona, so that from the god's\nhigh-leaved oak of Zeus he might hear the counsel,\nhow he should come home to his dear homeland,\nhaving been away so long now, whether openly or in secret.\nSo he is safe in this way and will come here now,\nvery near, and will not be far from his friends and his own land\nmuch longer; and yet I will give you oaths on it.\nLet Zeus be witness now, first of the gods, highest and best,\nand the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have come to;\ntruly all this will be fulfilled as I say.\nWithin this very year Odysseus will come here,\nas this month ends and the next begins.\nThen the wise Penelope answered him and said:\nI wish, stranger, that this word of yours were fulfilled!\nThen you would soon find friendship and many gifts\nfrom me, so that anyone who met you would call you blessed.\nBut this is how my heart guesses it will be:\nthat Odysseus will not come home any more, and you will not\nget an escort, since there are no such leaders in the house\nas Odysseus was among men, if he ever was,\nto send honoured guests away and to welcome them.\nBut come, maids, wash him, and set up a bed for him,\nbedding and blankets and shining covers,\nso that he may come to golden-throned Dawn warm and comfortable,\nand at dawn, very early, wash him and rub him with oil,\nso that he may sit inside beside Telemachus and think about the meal,\nsitting in the hall; and it will be the worse for whoever\nof those men grieves this man with heart-destroying words; and no work\nwill he do here any longer, however terribly angry he is.\nFor how will you learn from me, stranger, whether I am better\nthan other women in mind and prudent counsel,\nif you dine in the halls unwashed and wearing wretched clothes?\nAnd men are short-lived creatures.\nWhoever is harsh himself and knows harsh thoughts,\nall mortals curse him with sorrows for the future\nwhile he lives, and when he is dead they all mock him.\nBut whoever is blameless himself and knows blameless thoughts,\nstrangers carry his wide fame\nto all men, and many call him a good man.\nThen Odysseus of many devices answered her and said:\nLady, honoured wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,\ntruly cloaks and shining covers\nhave been hateful to me, ever since I first left the snowy mountains\nof Crete, going on a long-oared ship,\nand I lie down as I used to lie through sleepless nights;\nfor many nights I have spent on a wretched bed\nand waited for fair-throned shining Dawn.\nNor does a footbath for my feet that pleases my heart\ncome to me; nor will any woman touch my foot\nof those who are your serving women in the house,\nunless there is some old woman who knows what is sound,\nwho has endured in her heart as much as I have;\nI would not begrudge her touching my feet.\nThen the wise Penelope answered him and said:\nDear stranger, never yet has any sensible man\nof far-off friends come to my house\nas you speak all your words so gracefully and with such sense.\nI have an old woman who keeps prudent counsels in her heart,\nwho once nursed that unhappy man well and brought him up,\ntaking him in her arms when his mother first gave him birth;\nshe will wash your feet, though she is feeble now.\nBut come now, get up, wise Eurycleia,\nwash your master's age-mate; and perhaps Odysseus\nis already like this in his feet and like this in his hands;\nfor in misery men quickly grow old.\nSo she spoke, and the old woman covered her face with her hands,\nand let fall warm tears, and spoke a doleful word:\nPoor me, for you, child, helpless as I am; truly Zeus\nhas hated you, though you had a god-fearing heart.\nFor never yet has any mortal pleased Zeus who delights in thunder\nwith so much rich thigh-bone and chosen hecatombs\nas you gave him, praying that you might reach a sleek\nold age and raise a glorious son;\nbut now he has taken from you alone the day of your return.\nSo too, I suppose, women mocked that man\nwhen he came to anyone's glorious house as a far-off stranger,\njust as these dogs here all mock you;\nand avoiding their abuse and much shame,\nyou do not let them wash you; but the daughter of Icarius,\nthe wise Penelope, has ordered me, and not against my will.\nSo I will wash your feet both for Penelope's sake\nand for your own, since my heart within me is stirred\nby cares. But come now, mark the word I shall speak:\nmany long-suffering strangers have come here,\nbut never yet, I say, have I seen anyone so like\nas you are like Odysseus in body and voice and feet.\nThen Odysseus of many devices answered her and said:\nOld woman, so say all who have seen us both\nwith their own eyes, that we are very like each other,\nas you yourself in your good sense say.\nSo he spoke; and the old woman took the shining basin\nand washed his feet; and she poured in plenty of\ncold water, then stirred in hot. But Odysseus\nsat by the hearth, and quickly turned toward the darkness;\nfor suddenly in his heart he suspected that, taking hold of him,\nshe might notice the scar and the matter become plain.\nShe came near and washed her master; and at once she knew\nthe scar, which a boar once struck with its white tusk\nwhen he went to Parnassus to Autolycus and his sons,\nhis mother's noble father, who surpassed men\nin stealing and in swearing oaths; and the god himself gave him this,\nHermes; for to him he burned welcome thigh-bones\nof lambs and kids; and the god attended him willingly.\nAnd Autolycus came to the rich land of Ithaca\nand found a new-born child of his daughter;\nand Eurycleia laid him on the dear knees\nas he was finishing his supper, and spoke a word and named him:\nAutolycus, you yourself now find a name to give\nyour dear daughter's child; he is much prayed for.\nThen Autolycus answered her and spoke:\nMy son-in-law and my daughter, give him whatever name I say;\nfor I have come here having made enemies of many,\nboth men and women, over the much-nourishing earth;\nso let his name be Odysseus; and I myself,\nwhen he grows up into manhood and comes\nto his mother's great house at Parnassus, where my treasures are,\nI will give him them and send him away glad.\nFor this reason Odysseus came, so that he might receive the glorious gifts.\nThen Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus\nwelcomed him with their hands and with gentle words;\nand his mother Amphithea, clinging to the mother of Odysseus,\nkissed him on the head and on both his fair eyes.\nAnd Autolycus called to his glorious sons\nto prepare a feast; and they heard him urging them on,\nand at once they brought in a bull, male and five years old;\nthey skinned it and dressed it, and cut it all up,\nand chopped it skillfully and put the pieces on spits,\nand roasted it carefully, and divided the portions.\nSo then all day long until the setting of the sun\nthey feasted, and their heart lacked nothing of the equal feast;\nand when the sun set and darkness came on,\nthen they lay down and took the gift of sleep.\nAnd when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,\nthey set out for the hunt, both the dogs and the sons\nof Autolycus themselves; and with them noble Odysseus\nwent; and they climbed the steep mountain covered in forest,\nParnassus, and soon reached its windy folds.\nAnd the Sun was then just striking the fields anew\nfrom the softly flowing, deep-flowing Ocean,\nand the hunters came into a glen; and before them\nthe dogs went, tracking the tracks, and behind them\nthe sons of Autolycus; and with them noble Odysseus\nwent close to the hounds, brandishing a far-shadowing spear.\nThere in a thick thicket a great boar lay couched;\nneither the wet fury of the blowing winds\ncould pass through it, nor did the shining Sun strike it with its rays,\nnor did the rain pass through; so dense it was,\nand there was a heap of fallen leaves, abundantly thick.\nThen the noise of the feet of men and dogs came around it,\nas they pressed on toward it; and the boar came out of the thicket to face them,\nits bristles raised well along its back, glaring fire with its eyes,\nand it stood close to them; and Odysseus, first of all,\nrushed forward, raising the long spear in his thick hand,\neager to wound it; but the boar got in first and struck him\nabove the knee, and tore off much flesh with its tusk,\nleaping sideways, but it did not reach the man's bone.\nAnd Odysseus struck it, hitting it on the right shoulder,\nand the point of the shining spear went straight through;\nand it fell in the dust with a groan, and its spirit flew away.\nThen the dear sons of Autolycus attended to it,\nand the wound of blameless, godlike Odysseus\nthey bound skillfully, and with a charm they stopped the dark blood,\nand quickly they came to the house of his dear father.\nThen Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus,\nhaving healed him well and given him glorious gifts,\nsent him away gladly and quickly to his native land,\nto Ithaca. And his father and queenly mother\nrejoiced at his return and asked him about everything,\nand about the scar and how he got it; and he told them well\nhow the boar had struck him as he hunted with its white tusk,\nwhen he had gone to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.\nThis the old woman took in her hands, palms flat,\nand knew it as she felt it, and let the foot fall;\nand the shin fell into the basin, and the bronze rang out,\nand it tipped back the other way; and the water poured out on the ground.\nThen joy and grief seized her heart at once, and her two eyes\nfilled with tears, and her full voice was checked.\nShe touched his chin and spoke to Odysseus:\nTruly you are Odysseus, dear child; and I did not recognise you\nbefore, until I had touched all of my master.\nSo she spoke, and looked with her eyes at Penelope,\nwishing to tell her that her dear husband was inside.\nBut she could neither look at her face to face nor notice her;\nfor Athena had turned her mind; but Odysseus\nfelt for her throat and seized it with his right hand,\nand with the other drew her closer to himself and spoke:\nNurse, why do you want to destroy me? You yourself nursed me\nat your own breast; and now, after suffering many sorrows,\nI have come in the twentieth year to my native land.\nBut since you have perceived it and a god put it in your heart,\nbe silent, in case any other in the halls learns of it.\nFor I will tell you this, and it will surely be fulfilled:\nif a god brings the proud suitors down under me,\nI will not hold back from you, though you are my nurse, when I\nkill the other women slaves in my halls.\nThen the wise Eurycleia answered him and said:\nMy child, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth!\nYou know how firm and unyielding my spirit is,\nand I will hold it like solid stone or iron.\nAnd another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:\nif a god brings the proud suitors down under you,\nthen I will tell you the women in the halls,\nthose who dishonour you and those who are blameless.\nThen Odysseus of many devices answered her and said:\nNurse, why should you tell me of them? There is no need at all.\nWell, I myself will look into it and will know each one;\nbut keep the matter silent, and leave it to the gods.\nSo he spoke, and the old woman had gone through the hall\nto fetch the footbath; for all the earlier water had been spilled.\nBut when she had washed him and anointed him richly with oil,\nagain Odysseus drew his chair closer to the fire\nto warm himself, and hid the scar under his rags.\nThen the wise Penelope began the words among them:\nStranger, I myself will ask you a little more;\nfor soon will be the hour of pleasant rest,\nwhen sweet sleep seizes a man, even one in sorrow.\nBut for me a god has given measureless grief;\nfor by day I take my pleasure in weeping and wailing,\nlooking at my own work and at the maids in the house;\nbut when night comes and sleep seizes everyone,\nI lie in my bed, and thick sharp cares around my throbbing heart\nstir me as I weep.\nAs when the daughter of Pandareus, the green-clad nightingale,\nsings beautifully when spring is newly come,\nsitting in the thick leaves of the trees,\nwho often turning about pours out her many-sounding voice,\nmourning her dear child Itylus, whom once with bronze\nshe killed in her folly, the son of lord Zethus,\nso too my heart rises in two ways, here and there,\nwhether I stay with my son and keep all things steadfast,\nmy possessions, my slaves, and my high-roofed great house,\nrespecting the bed of my husband and the talk of the people,\nor whether I now follow whichever of the Achaeans is best\nand courts me in the halls, offering countless bride-gifts.\nAnd my son, while he was still a child and foolish,\ndid not let me marry, leaving my husband's house;\nbut now that he is grown and has reached the measure of youth,\nhe prays me to go back out of the hall,\nchafing at the substance which the Achaeans devour.\nBut come, interpret my dream for me and hear it.\nI have twenty geese in the house eating wheat\nfrom the water, and I take delight in watching them;\nand a great hook-beaked eagle came from the mountain\nand broke all their necks and killed them; and they lay\nheaped together in the halls, while he rose into the shining sky.\nThen I wept and wailed, even in my dream,\nand around me gathered the fair-tressed Achaean women,\nas I lamented pitifully that the eagle had killed my geese.\nBut he came back and sat on the projecting roof-beam,\nand with a human voice he restrained me and spoke:\nTake courage, daughter of far-famed Icarius;\nthis is no dream but a good waking vision, which will be fulfilled for you.\nThe geese are the suitors, and I, who was before a bird, an eagle,\nhave now come back as your husband,\nwho will set a shameful doom upon all the suitors.\nSo he spoke, and sweet sleep released me;\nbut I looked about and saw the geese in the halls\nfeeding on wheat beside the trough, where they were before.\nThen Odysseus of many devices answered her and said:\nLady, it is in no way possible to interpret the dream\nturning it aside, since Odysseus himself has shown you\nhow he will fulfil it; and destruction appears\nto all the suitors, and none will escape death and the fates.\nThen the wise Penelope answered him and said:\nStranger, dreams truly are baffling and unclear in speech,\nnor does everything come true for men.\nFor there are two gates of shadowy dreams:\none pair is made of horn, the others of ivory;\nthose that come through the sawn ivory,\nthey deceive, bearing words that are not fulfilled;\nbut those that come out through the polished horn,\nthey bring true things to pass, whenever a mortal sees them.\nBut I do not think that my dread dream came from there;\ntruly it would be welcome to me and to my son.\nAnd another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:\nthis hateful dawn is coming, which will keep me\naway from Odysseus' house; for now I will set a contest,\nthose axes, which he used to set up in his own halls\nin a row, like ship's props, all twelve of them;\nand standing far off he used to shoot an arrow through them.\nNow I will set this contest for the suitors:\nwhoever most easily strings the bow in his hands\nand shoots an arrow through all twelve of the axes,\nwith him I will go, leaving this house,\nmy bridal home, very beautiful, full of life;\nwhich I think I shall remember even in my dreams.\nThen Odysseus of many devices answered her and said:\nLady, honoured wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,\nno longer now put off this contest in the house;\nfor Odysseus of many devices will come here before\nthese men, handling this well-polished bow,\ncan string the string and shoot through the iron.\nThen the wise Penelope answered him and said:\nIf you would wish, stranger, sitting beside me in the halls,\nto delight me, sleep would never be poured upon my eyelids.\nBut it is in no way possible for men to be always\nsleepless; for the immortals have set a portion for each one\nof mortals upon the grain-giving earth.\nBut I will go up to the upper chamber\nand lie down in my bed, which has been made sorrowful for me,\nalways drenched with my tears, ever since Odysseus\nwent to look upon evil Ilion, not to be named.\nThere I will lie down; but you lie down in this house,\neither making a bed on the ground or on the bedding they set out.\nSo saying she went up to the shining upper chamber,\nnot alone, for the other handmaids went with her.\nAnd going up to the upper room with the women attendants,\nshe wept then for Odysseus, her dear husband, until\nbright-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.\n\n### Book 20\n\nBut noble Odysseus lay down to sleep in the entrance hall,\nand he spread out an untanned oxhide beneath him, and on top\nmany sheepskins, which the Achaeans used to slaughter;\nand Eurynome threw a cloak over him as he lay.\nThere Odysseus, plotting evil in his heart against the suitors,\nlay awake; and the women came out of the hall,\nthe ones who had been used to sleeping with the suitors before,\ngiving each other laughter and merriment.\nAnd his spirit was stirred in his own chest,\nand he debated much in mind and heart,\nwhether he should rush on each one and kill her,\nor let them lie one last time with the arrogant suitors,\nfor the last and final time; and his heart growled within him.\nAs a dog stands over her weak puppies\nand barks at a man she does not know, eager to fight,\nso his heart growled within him as he raged at their evil deeds;\nand striking his chest he rebuked his heart with words:\nEndure, heart; you have endured something even more dog-like once.\nOn the day when the Cyclops, raging beyond control, devoured\nmy sturdy comrades; you held out until your cunning\nled you out of the cave, when you thought you would die.\nSo he said, scolding his own heart in his chest;\nand his heart obeyed and held firm\nwithout giving way; but he himself tossed back and forth.\nAs when a man turns a paunch full of fat and blood\nover a great blazing fire, this way and that,\nand is very eager for it to be roasted,\nso he turned this way and that, pondering\nhow he would lay hands on the shameless suitors,\nbeing alone against many. And Athena came near to him,\ndescending from the sky; and she made her form like a woman's;\nand she stood above his head and spoke a word to him:\nWhy are you awake now, most wretched of all men?\nThis is your house, and here in the house is your wife\nand your son, such as anyone might wish a son to be.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:\nYes, goddess, all this you have spoken rightly;\nbut my heart ponders this in my breast,\nhow I shall lay hands on the shameless suitors,\nbeing alone; and they are always gathered in the house.\nAnd besides I ponder this still greater thing in my heart:\nfor if I kill them by the will of Zeus and of you,\nhow could I escape? I bid you consider this.\nThen the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:\nStubborn man, even one man trusts a weaker comrade,\nwho is mortal and knows no such counsels;\nbut I am a god, who keeps you safe continually\nin all your toils. And I will tell you plainly:\neven if fifty companies of mortal men\nshould surround us two, eager to kill us in war,\nyou would drive off their cattle and their sturdy sheep.\nBut let sleep take you too; it is a grief to keep watch\nawake all night, and you will soon slip out of your troubles.\nSo she spoke, and poured sleep upon his eyelids,\nand she herself went back to Olympus, shining among goddesses.\nWhen sleep seized him, loosening the cares of his heart,\nlimb-loosing sleep, his wife woke, knowing wise things;\nand she wept, sitting up in her soft bed.\nBut when she had had her fill of weeping in her heart,\nthe shining one among women first prayed to Artemis:\nArtemis, lady goddess, daughter of Zeus, if only now\nyou would strike my breast with an arrow and take my life\nright now, or else a storm-wind snatch me up\nand carry me off along the misty paths,\nand cast me into the outflows of back-flowing Ocean.\nAs when the storms snatched away the daughters of Pandareus;\nthe gods destroyed their parents, and they were left\norphans in the halls, and shining Aphrodite cared for them\nwith cheese and sweet honey and pleasant wine;\nand Hera gave them beauty beyond all women\nand understanding, and holy Artemis gave them stature,\nand Athena taught them to work glorious handiwork.\nWhen shining Aphrodite went to tall Olympus\nto ask for the girls the fulfilment of flourishing marriage—\nto Zeus who delights in thunder, for he knows all things well,\nboth the portion and the no-portion of mortal men—\nmeanwhile the Harpies snatched the girls away\nand gave them to the hateful Furies to serve;\nso may the gods who hold Olympus make me vanish,\nor may fair-tressed Artemis strike me, so that seeing Odysseus\neven so I might come beneath the hateful earth,\nand never gladden the mind of a lesser man.\nBut that evil is at least bearable, when someone\nweeps by day, deeply grieved at heart,\nand sleep holds him by night—for it makes him forget all things,\nboth good and bad, once it covers the eyelids—\nbut for me a god has sent evil dreams as well.\nFor this night there lay beside me one like him,\nsuch as he was when he went with the army; and my heart\nrejoiced, for I did not think it was a dream, but waking truth.\nSo she spoke, and straightway golden-throned Dawn came.\nAnd noble Odysseus heard the voice of her weeping;\nand he pondered then, and it seemed to him in his heart\nthat she already knew him and stood at his head.\nAnd he gathered up the cloak and the fleeces he had slept in,\nand laid them in the hall upon a chair, and the oxhide\nhe carried out and set outside, and prayed to Zeus with hands upraised:\nFather Zeus, if you gods have willingly brought me over dry land and sea\nto my own land, though you afflicted me sorely,\nlet someone among the waking people speak a word for me\nwithin, and outside let another sign from Zeus appear.\nSo he spoke praying; and wise Zeus heard him,\nand straightway thundered from bright Olympus,\nfrom on high out of the clouds; and noble Odysseus rejoiced.\nAnd a woman, a grinder, sent a word from the house\nnearby, where the mills of the shepherd of the people stood,\nand twelve women in all toiled at them\nmaking barley and flour, the marrow of men.\nThe others slept, since they had finished grinding their wheat,\nbut one had not yet stopped, and she was the weakest;\nshe set the mill in place and spoke a word, a sign for the master:\nFather Zeus, who rules over gods and men,\nloudly indeed you thundered from the starry sky,\nand there is no cloud anywhere; you are showing this as a sign to someone.\nFulfil now for me too, miserable as I am, the word I speak:\nmay the suitors on this day, their last and final one,\nin Odysseus' halls take their lovely dinner,\nwho have loosened my knees with heart-grieving toil\nas I make their barley; now let them dine for the last time.\nSo she spoke, and noble Odysseus rejoiced in the omen\nand the thunder of Zeus; for he thought to punish the sinners.\nAnd the other maids throughout the fair halls of Odysseus\ngathered and kindled the tireless fire on the hearth.\nAnd Telemachus rose from his bed, a man like a god,\nput on his clothes, and slung a sharp sword over his shoulder;\nand under his shining feet he bound fair sandals,\nand took a stout spear, tipped with sharp bronze;\nand he stood as he came to the threshold, and said to Eurycleia:\nDear nurse, did you honour the stranger in the house\nwith bed and food, or does he lie there uncared for?\nFor such is my mother, wise though she is:\nat random she honours one man of mortals\nwho is worse, and sends a better one away dishonoured.\nThen thoughtful Eurycleia answered him:\nYou would not now, child, blame him without cause.\nFor he drank wine as he sat, as long as he wished,\nand said he was no longer hungry for food; for I asked him.\nBut when he thought of bed and sleep,\nI bade the maids spread bedding for him,\nbut he, like a man utterly wretched and luckless,\nwas not willing to sleep in a bed and rugs,\nbut on an untanned oxhide and sheepskins\nhe slept in the forecourt; and we threw a cloak over him.\nSo she spoke, and Telemachus had gone through the hall\nholding his spear, and two swift dogs followed with him.\nHe went to the assembly place among the well-greaved Achaeans.\nAnd she, shining among women, called to her maids,\nEurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor:\nBestir yourselves, some of you sweep the house busily,\nand sprinkle it, and on the well-made chairs spread\npurple rugs; and others with sponges wipe\nall the tables, and clean the mixing bowls\nand the well-made two-handled cups; and others go\nto the spring for water, and bring it back quickly.\nFor the suitors will not be long away from the hall,\nbut will come very early, since it is a feast day for all.\nSo she spoke, and they listened to her and obeyed.\nTwenty of them went to the dark-watered spring,\nand the others worked skilfully about the house.\nAnd the Achaeans' labourers came in. Then they\nsplit wood well and skilfully, and the women\ncame back from the spring; and the swineherd came up to them\ndriving three fat hogs, the best among all.\nAnd he let them feed in the fair pens,\nand he himself spoke to Odysseus with gentle words:\nStranger, do the Achaeans treat you with more respect,\nor do they dishonour you in the hall, as before?\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nEumaeus, if only the gods would avenge the outrage\nthat these men, in their insolence, recklessly contrive\nin another's house, and have no share of shame.\nSo they spoke such words to one another,\nand close by them came Melanthius, the goatherd,\nbringing goats that were outstanding among all the herds,\nas dinner for the suitors. And two herdsmen followed with him.\nAnd he tied them under the echoing portico,\nand he himself spoke to Odysseus with mocking words:\nStranger, will you still now vex us here in the house\nbegging from men, and will you not go outside?\nIn any case I think the two of us will not be parted\nbefore we taste each other's fists, since you beg\nnot in order; there are other feasts of the Achaeans too.\nSo he spoke, but much-devising Odysseus did not answer him,\nbut silently shook his head, brooding evil deep within.\nAnd third came Philoetius, leader of men,\nbringing a barren cow and fat goats for the suitors.\nAnd ferrymen had brought them across, the men who also send\nother people over, whoever comes to them.\nAnd he tied them up well under the echoing portico,\nand he himself questioned the swineherd, standing close by:\nWho is this stranger who has newly come, swineherd,\nto our house? And from what men does he claim\nto be? And where is his birth and his native land?\nWretched man, yet in body he looks like a king, a lord;\nbut the gods plunge much-wandering men into misery,\nwhen they spin out sorrow even for kings.\nHe spoke, and greeting him with his right hand as he stood by,\nand he addressed him and spoke winged words:\nHail, father stranger; may there be for you hereafter\nprosperity; but now you are gripped by many troubles.\nFather Zeus, no other of the gods is more ruinous than you:\nyou do not pity men, once you have begotten them yourself,\nbut involve them in wickedness and wretched pains.\nI broke into sweat, as I marked it, and my eyes were filled with tears\nas I remembered Odysseus, for I think that even he\nwanders among men wearing such rags as these,\nif he still lives anywhere and sees the light of the sun.\nBut if he is already dead and in the house of Hades,\nalas then for blameless Odysseus, who set me over the cattle\nwhen I was still small, in the land of the Cephallenians.\nBut now they have become past counting, and no other man\ncould get such a yield of broad-browed cattle;\nand others bid me bring them in for themselves\nto eat; and they care nothing in the halls for the son,\nnor do they tremble at the gods' vengeance; for they are eager already\nto divide the possessions of the long-absent lord.\nBut my heart in my own dear breast\nturns this over much: it is very bad, while a son lives,\nto go to another people's land with the cattle themselves,\nto foreign men; but it is more chilling, staying here\nand sitting over others' cattle to suffer griefs.\nAnd long ago I would have gone to some other of the over-mighty kings,\nfleeing to him, since these things are no longer bearable;\nbut I still think of that wretched man, if from somewhere he might come\nand make a scattering of the suitors through the halls.\nThen much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:\nCowherd, since you seem neither a coward nor a fool,\nand I myself see that understanding has come to your mind,\ntherefore I will tell you and swear a great oath:\nLet Zeus first of the gods be my witness, and the table of hospitality\nand the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have reached:\ntruly Odysseus will come home while you are here;\nand with your own eyes you will see, if you wish,\nthe suitors being killed, who lord it here.\nThen the cowherd of the cattle answered him:\nIf only, stranger, the son of Cronos would fulfil that word!\nYou would know what my strength is and what my hands can do.\nSo likewise Eumaeus prayed to all the gods\nthat wise Odysseus might return to this house.\nSo they spoke such words to one another,\nand the suitors were preparing death and doom for Telemachus;\nbut an omen bird came to them from the left,\nan eagle flying high, and it held a trembling dove.\nThen Amphinomus spoke among them and said:\nFriends, this plan will not be accomplished for us,\nthe murder of Telemachus; but let us think of the feast.\nSo spoke Amphinomus, and the word pleased them.\nAnd they came into the halls of godlike Odysseus\nand laid down their cloaks on the benches and chairs,\nand they slaughtered great sheep and fat goats,\nand slaughtered fat hogs and a herd cow;\nand they roasted the innards and handed them out, and mixed wine\nin the mixing bowls; and the swineherd handed out the cups.\nAnd Philoetius, leader of men, served out bread to them\nin fine baskets, and Melanthius poured the wine.\nAnd they threw their hands upon the ready food set before them.\nAnd Telemachus seated Odysseus, devising shrewdly,\ninside the well-built hall, beside the stone threshold,\nsetting down a mean stool and a little table;\nand he set beside him portions of the innards, and poured wine\ninto a golden cup, and spoke a word to him:\nStay here now among the men and drink your wine;\nand I myself will keep off taunts and blows\nfrom all the suitors, since this house is not\na public house, but Odysseus', and he won it for me.\nBut you, suitors, hold back your hearts from abuse\nand blows, so that no strife and quarrel arises.\nSo he spoke, and all of them bit their lips with their teeth,\nmarvelling at Telemachus, that he spoke so boldly.\nThen Antinous spoke among them, son of Eupeithes:\nThough it is harsh, let us accept the word, Achaeans,\nfrom Telemachus; for he speaks to us with great threats.\nZeus the son of Cronos did not allow it; else we would have\nstopped him in the halls, clear-voiced speaker though he is.\nSo spoke Antinous; but he paid no heed to their words.\nAnd heralds were leading the holy hecatomb of the gods\nthrough the town; and the long-haired Achaeans gathered\nbeneath the shady grove of far-shooting Apollo.\nAnd when they had roasted the upper cuts of meat and drawn them off,\nthey divided the portions and shared a glorious feast;\nand those who served set beside Odysseus a portion\nequal to what they themselves got; for so had ordered\nTelemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus.\nBut Athena did not at all allow the haughty suitors\nto refrain from heart-grieving outrage, so that grief might come\nstill more upon the heart of Odysseus, son of Laertes.\nThere was a man among the suitors who knew lawless things,\nCtesippus was his name, and he lived in a house on Same;\nwho, trusting in his marvellous possessions,\nwas wooing the wife of the long-absent Odysseus.\nHe then spoke among the overweening suitors:\nHear me, haughty suitors, that I may say something:\nThe stranger has long had his portion, as is proper,\nan equal one; for it is not fine or just to stint\nthe guests of Telemachus, whoever comes to this house.\nBut come, let me too give him a guest-gift, so that he himself\nmay give it as a gift to the bath-pourer or to some other\nof the slaves who are about the halls of godlike Odysseus.\nSo saying, he hurled with his stout hand an ox's hoof,\ntaking it from the basket where it lay; and Odysseus dodged it\nleaning his head slightly aside, and he smiled in his heart\na very sardonic smile; and it hit the well-built wall.\nThen Telemachus rebuked Ctesippus with a word:\nCtesippus, truly this turned out better for your heart—\nyou did not hit the stranger; for he dodged the missile himself.\nFor I would have struck you in the middle with a sharp spear,\nand instead of a wedding your father would have been busied with a grave\nhere. Therefore let no one show me unseemly behaviour in the house;\nfor now I notice and know each thing,\nboth good and worse; before I was still a child.\nBut even so we have endured seeing these things,\nthe sheep being slaughtered and the wine being drunk\nand the bread; for it is hard for one man to hold back many.\nBut come, no longer do me harm in your hostility;\nbut if you are now eager to kill me myself with bronze,\nthen I would wish it, and it would be far better\nto be dead than always to look on these unseemly deeds,\nstrangers being manhandled and slave women\ndragged about shamefully through the fair halls.\nSo he spoke, and all of them fell silent in stillness;\nand at last Agelaus, son of Damastor, spoke among them:\nFriends, no one could find fault with a word justly spoken\nand be angry, attacking it with words of opposition;\nneither manhandle the stranger nor any other\nof the slaves who are about the halls of godlike Odysseus.\nAnd to Telemachus and his mother I would speak\na gentle word, if it pleased the heart of them both.\nAs long as your heart in your breasts hoped\nthat wise Odysseus would return to this house,\nso long there was no blame in waiting and holding back\nthe suitors in the halls, since this was better,\nin case Odysseus returned and came back home;\nbut now this is clear, that he will never return.\nBut come, sit beside your mother and tell her this,\nto marry whichever man is best and offers the most dowry,\nso that you may joyfully enjoy all your father's wealth,\neating and drinking, and she may keep another man's house.\nThen prudent Telemachus answered him:\nNo, by Zeus, Agelaus, and by my father's sorrows,\nwho somewhere far from Ithaca has perished or wanders,\nI do not delay my mother's marriage, but I bid her\nmarry whomever she wishes, and I give countless gifts besides.\nBut I am ashamed to drive her from the hall against her will\nwith a compelling word; may god not bring that about.\nSo spoke Telemachus; and Pallas Athena roused\nunstoppable laughter in the suitors, and warped their minds.\nAnd they were already laughing with jaws that were not their own,\nand they were eating meat bloody with gore; and their eyes\nwere filled with tears, and their heart foresaw lamentation.\nThen godlike Theoclymenus spoke among them:\nAh, wretched men, what evil is this you suffer? Night covers\nyour heads and faces and your knees below.\nLamentation blazes, your cheeks are wet with tears,\nthe walls and the fair roof-beams are spattered with blood;\nthe porch is full of ghosts, and the courtyard is full too,\nhurrying down to Erebos beneath the darkness; and the sun\nhas perished from the sky, and an evil mist has spread over it.\nSo he spoke, and all of them laughed sweetly at him.\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak among them:\nThe stranger who has newly come from elsewhere is raving.\nBut quickly, young men, send him out of the house to the door\nto go to the assembly place, since this seems like night.\nThen godlike Theoclymenus answered him:\nEurymachus, I do not bid you give me escorts;\nI have eyes and ears and both my feet\nand a mind in my breast furnished with nothing unseemly.\nWith these I will go outside, since I see an evil coming upon you\nthat no one of the suitors could escape or avoid,\nwho in the house of godlike Odysseus\ncontrive reckless outrages against men in your insolence.\nSo saying he went out of the well-built house,\nand came to Peiraeus, who gladly received him.\nAnd all the suitors, looking at one another,\nkept provoking Telemachus, laughing at the strangers;\nand thus one of the overweening young men would say:\nTelemachus, no one is worse than you at hosting guests;\nwhat a beggarly vagabond you keep, this one,\nin need of food and wine, and with no skill in work\nor strength, but just a burden on the earth.\nAnd here is another who stood up to prophesy.\nBut if you would listen to me in something, it would be far better:\nlet us throw these strangers into a many-benched ship\nand send them to the Sicels, from where a price worth having would come to you.\nSo spoke the suitors; but he paid no heed to their words,\nbut in silence kept looking at his father, ever waiting\nfor the moment when he would lay hands on the shameless suitors.\nAnd she, having set a very beautiful chair facing them,\nthe daughter of Icarius, thoughtful Penelope,\nheard the words of each of the men in the halls.\nFor they had made their dinner, laughing as they did,\nsweet and satisfying, since they had sacrificed many beasts;\nbut no supper could ever have been more thankless,\nsuch as the goddess and the mighty man were soon to set before them;\nfor they had been the first to contrive unseemly deeds.\n\n### Book 21\n\nBright-eyed Athene put it into her mind,\nthe daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\nto set the bow and the grey iron before the suitors\nin Odysseus' hall, a contest and the start of slaughter.\nShe climbed the high staircase of her own house,\nand took in her stout hand a well-bent key,\na lovely one of bronze, and its handle was of ivory.\nShe went to the innermost storeroom with her women servants,\nwhere the treasures of the lord lay stored,\nbronze and gold and iron worked with much toil.\nThere lay the back-springing bow and the quiver,\nthe arrow-holder, and inside were many groaning arrows,\ngifts that a guest had given him in Lacedaemon,\nIphitus son of Eurytus, like the immortal gods.\nThe two had met each other in Messene,\nin the house of warlike Ortilochus. Odysseus\nhad come for a debt that all the people owed him;\nfor Messenian men had carried off from Ithaca\nthree hundred sheep in their many-benched ships, and the herdsmen too.\nFor their sake Odysseus went on that long journey,\nthough he was a boy; his father sent him, and the other elders.\nAnd Iphitus was seeking his horses that were lost,\ntwelve mares, and the mules that labour under the yoke;\nand these afterwards became his death and his fate,\nwhen he came to the strong-hearted son of Zeus,\nHeracles, a man who knew great deeds,\nwho killed him, though he was his guest, in his own house,\nthe cruel man, and had no shame before the gods nor before the table\nthat he had set before him; and then he killed him too,\nand kept the strong-hoofed horses in his halls himself.\nSeeking these, Iphitus met Odysseus and gave him the bow,\nwhich great Eurytus had carried before, but he left it to his son\nwhen he died, in his high-roofed halls.\nAnd to him Odysseus gave a sharp sword and a strong spear,\nthe beginning of a kindly friendship; yet at the table\nthe two never knew each other; for before that the son of Zeus had killed\nIphitus son of Eurytus, like the immortals,\nwho had given him the bow. And never did noble Odysseus\ntake it with him when he went to war on the black ships,\nbut it lay there in his halls, a memorial of a dear guest-friend,\nand he carried it only in his own land.\nAnd when she, the shining among women, came to that storeroom\nand stepped on the oaken threshold, which a craftsman once\nhad smoothed with skill and trued to the line,\nand set the doorposts in it and hung the shining doors,\nat once she quickly loosed the strap from the hook,\nand put in the key, and knocked back the bolts of the doors,\naiming straight at them; and they bellowed like a bull\ngrazing in a meadow; so bellowed the lovely doors\nwhen the key struck them, and they flew open quickly.\nShe stepped up onto the high platform, where the chests\nstood, and fragrant clothing lay in them.\nReaching up from there she took the bow from its peg,\nwith its own case, which shone all about it.\nSitting down right there she laid it on her knees,\nand wept very loudly, and took up the lord's bow.\nBut when she had had her fill of much-weeping lament,\nshe went to the hall among the proud suitors,\nholding in her hand the back-springing bow and the quiver,\nthe arrow-holder; and many groaning arrows were inside.\nHer women servants carried a box, in which iron\nlay in abundance, and bronze, the prizes of the lord.\nAnd when she, the shining among women, came to the suitors,\nshe stood beside the doorpost of the well-built roof,\nholding her shining headband before her cheeks.\nAnd a trusty servant stood beside her on either side.\nAt once she spoke to the suitors and said a word:\n\"Hear me, bold suitors, who by your constant eating\nand drinking have worn down this house,\nwhile the man has been gone a long time; and no other\nexcuse for your talk could you make,\nexcept that you wished to marry me and make me your wife.\nCome then, suitors, since this contest is set before you.\nFor I will set out the great bow of godlike Odysseus;\nwhoever strings it most easily in his hands\nand shoots through all twelve of the axes,\nhim I will follow, leaving this house,\nmy marriage house, very lovely, full of livelihood,\nwhich I think I will remember even in a dream.\"\nSo she spoke, and she ordered Eumaeus, the noble swineherd,\nto set the bow and the grey iron before the suitors.\nEumaeus took them weeping and laid them down;\nthe cowherd wept too, when he saw the bow of the lord.\nAntinous rebuked them and spoke and called them by name:\n\"You foolish country men, thinking only of the day before you,\nyou wretches, why do you let tears fall and stir up\nthe heart in her breast? Her heart already\nlies in sorrow, since she lost her dear husband.\nBut sit and feast in silence, or go outside\nand weep, leaving the bow here,\nan unbroken contest for the suitors; for I do not think\nthis well-polished bow is easily strung.\nFor there is no such man among all these here\nas Odysseus was; and I myself have seen him,\nfor I have a memory of it, though I was still a young child.\"\nSo he spoke, but in his breast his heart hoped\nto string the bow and shoot through the iron.\nTruly he was to be the first to taste the arrow\nfrom the hands of blameless Odysseus, whom he then dishonoured\nas he sat in the hall, and stirred up all his companions.\nAnd sacred Telemachus' strength spoke among them too:\n\"Ah me, surely Zeus the son of Cronos has made me foolish!\nMy own dear mother says to me, wise though she is,\nthat she will follow another and leave this house;\nand I laugh and take pleasure in my foolish heart.\nCome then, suitors, since this contest is set before you,\nsince there is no woman now in the land of Achaea,\nneither in holy Pylos nor in Argos nor in Mycenae,\nnor in Ithaca itself nor on the dark mainland;\nand you yourselves know this; why should I praise my mother?\nCome, do not put me off with excuses, nor any longer\nturn away from the bow that must be strung, so that we may see.\nAnd I myself could try this bow;\nfor if I string it and shoot through the iron,\nthen my honoured mother would not, grieving for me, leave these halls\nand go with another man, when I am left behind\nable now to take up my father's fine prizes.\"\nHe spoke, and sprang up straight and took the purple cloak from his shoulders,\nand took the sharp sword from his shoulders.\nFirst he set up the axes, after digging one long trench\nfor them all, and trued it to a line,\nand heaped the earth around; wonder seized all who saw it,\nhow neatly he set them; before that he had never seen it done.\nHe went and stood on the threshold and tried the bow.\nThree times he shook it, eager to draw it,\nthree times he let his strength rest, hoping in his heart\nto string the bow and shoot through the iron.\nAnd now he would have strung it, drawing the fourth time with force,\nbut Odysseus shook his head and held him back, eager as he was.\nAnd again sacred Telemachus' strength spoke among them:\n\"Ah me, so I will be a coward and a weakling,\nor I am too young and do not yet trust my hands\nto fight off a man when someone first gets angry.\nCome then, you who are stronger than I am,\ntry the bow, and let us finish the contest.\"\nSo he spoke, and set the bow down on the ground away from him,\nleaning it against the close-jointed polished panels,\nand leaned the swift arrow against the fine horn tip,\nand sat down again on the chair from which he had risen.\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them:\n\"Rise up in order, all you companions, from the right,\nbeginning from the place where he pours the wine.\"\nSo spoke Antinous, and his word pleased them.\nLeiodes rose first, son of Oenops,\nwho was their diviner, and always sat\nat the lovely mixing bowl in the innermost corner; and reckless deeds alone\nwere hateful to him, and he was angry with all the suitors.\nHe then was the first to take the bow and the swift arrow.\nHe went and stood on the threshold and tried the bow,\nbut he did not string it; before that his hands grew tired drawing,\nuntrained and soft; then he spoke to the suitors:\n\"Friends, I cannot string it; let another take it too.\nFor this bow will rob many of the best men\nof their spirit and life, since it is far better\nto die than to live and fail the thing for which\nwe gather here always, waiting every day.\nNow indeed someone hopes in his heart and longs\nto marry Penelope, Odysseus' wife.\nBut when he has tried the bow and seen it,\nlet him then woo some other of the well-robed Achaean women\nwith gifts, seeking her; and she may then\nmarry whoever gives the most and comes as her fate.\"\nSo he spoke, and set the bow down from him,\nleaning it against the close-jointed polished panels,\nand leaned the swift arrow against the fine horn tip,\nand sat down again on the chair from which he had risen.\nAntinous rebuked him and spoke and called him by name:\n\"Leiodes, what kind of word escaped the fence of your teeth,\ndreadful and painful — and I am angry to hear it —\nif this bow will rob the best men\nof their spirit and life, because you cannot string it.\nFor your honoured mother did not bear you\nto be a stringer of a bow and a shooter of arrows;\nbut other proud suitors will soon string it.\"\nSo he spoke, and ordered Melanthius, the goatherd of goats:\n\"Come now, Melanthius, light a fire in the hall,\nand set a great chair beside it and a fleece on top of it,\nand bring out a great wheel of fat from what is inside,\nso that we young men, warming it and rubbing it with grease,\nmay try the bow and finish the contest.\"\nSo he spoke, and Melanthius quickly lit the tireless fire,\nand brought and set a chair beside it and a fleece on top,\nand brought out a great wheel of fat from what was inside;\nwith that the young men warmed the bow and tried; but they could not\nstring it, for they fell far short of strength.\nAntinous still held back, and godlike Eurymachus,\nthe leaders of the suitors; they were far the best in courage.\nAnd the two went out of the house together,\nthe cowherd and the swineherd of godlike Odysseus;\nand noble Odysseus himself came out of the house after them.\nBut when they were outside the doors and the courtyard,\nhe spoke and addressed them with gentle words:\n\"Cowherd, and you, swineherd, shall I tell you a word,\nor keep it hidden myself? My heart urges me to speak.\nWhat sort of men would you be to defend Odysseus, if he came from somewhere\nright here so suddenly, or some god brought him?\nWould you defend the suitors or Odysseus?\nSay it as your heart and spirit command you.\"\nAnd the keeper of cattle answered him:\n\"Father Zeus, if only you would fulfil this wish,\nthat that man would come, and some god lead him here;\nthen you would know what my strength is and what my hands can do.\"\nIn the same way Eumaeus prayed to all the gods\nthat wise Odysseus might return to this house.\nBut when he had read their mind as true,\nhe answered them again and spoke:\n\"Here I am, inside — I myself, after suffering many troubles,\nhave come to my homeland in the twentieth year.\nI know that I have come to you two alone of the servants as men who long for me;\nfor of the others I have heard not one\npraying that I might come back home again.\nBut to you two, as it will be, I will tell the truth.\nIf a god subdues the proud suitors under me,\nI will bring wives for both of you and give you possessions\nand houses built near mine; and after that\nyou two will be companions and brothers to Telemachus.\nBut come now, I will show you another very clear sign,\nso that you may know me well and trust me in your heart:\nthe scar, which a boar once struck with its white tusk\nwhen I went to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.\"\nSo he spoke, and drew the rags away from the great scar.\nAnd when the two saw it and marked each thing well,\nthey wept and threw their arms around wise Odysseus,\nand kept kissing his head and his shoulders in welcome.\nAnd in the same way Odysseus kissed their heads and their hands.\nAnd the light of the sun would have set on them as they wept,\nif Odysseus himself had not stopped them and spoken:\n\"Stop your weeping and wailing, in case someone sees\nand comes out of the hall and tells the others inside.\nBut go in one at a time, not all together,\nI first, then you; and let this be the sign:\nfor all the others, as many as are proud suitors,\nwill not let me be given the bow and the quiver;\nbut you, noble Eumaeus, carry the bow through the house\nand put it into my hands, and tell the women\nto lock the closely fitted doors of the hall;\nand if anyone hears groaning or a noise inside\namong our men within the walls, let no one\ncome out, but stay quiet there at her work.\nAnd to you, noble Philoetius, I command\nto lock the doors of the courtyard with the key, and quickly tie the fastening.\"\nSo he spoke and went into the well-built house;\nhe went and sat down on the chair from which he had risen;\nand the two servants also went into the house of godlike Odysseus.\nEurymachus was already handling the bow in his hands,\nwarming it this way and that at the flame of the fire; but even so\nhe could not string it, and he groaned greatly in his proud heart.\nTroubled, he spoke a word and said and named him:\n\"Ah me, grief is mine for myself and for all of us.\nI do not grieve so much for the marriage, troubled as I am;\nfor there are many other Achaean women, some in Ithaca itself\nringed by the sea, and some in other cities;\nbut if we are so much short of strength\ncompared with godlike Odysseus, since we cannot string\nthe bow — a disgrace even for those to come to hear of.\"\nThen Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:\n\"Eurymachus, it will not be so; you know it yourself.\nFor now throughout the land it is the holy feast of the god;\nwho would string a bow? But set it quietly\ndown; and let us let all the axes stand there too;\nfor I do not think anyone will carry them off,\ncoming into the hall of Laertes' son Odysseus.\nCome, let the wine-pourer make the first offering with the cups,\nso that after pouring a libation we may set down the curved bows;\nand at dawn tell Melanthius, the goatherd of goats,\nto bring goats, which stand out far above all his herds,\nso that setting thigh pieces for Apollo, famous with the bow,\nwe may try the bow and finish the contest.\"\nSo spoke Antinous, and their plan pleased them.\nHeralds poured water over their hands,\nand young men filled the mixing bowls with drink,\nand served it to all, after the first offering, with cups.\nAnd when they had poured and drunk as much as their heart wished,\nthen Odysseus of many wiles spoke to them with a crafty mind:\n\"Hear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,\nso that I may say what my heart in my breast commands me.\nI beg Eurymachus especially, and godlike Antinous,\nsince he has also spoken this word fittingly:\nto stop the bow for now, and leave it to the gods;\nin the morning the god will give victory to whomever he wishes.\nCome, give me the polished bow, so that among you\nI may test my hands and my strength, whether I still have\nthe power that once was in my supple limbs,\nor whether wandering and neglect have already destroyed it for me.\"\nSo he spoke, and all of them were outraged beyond measure,\nafraid that he might string the polished bow.\nAntinous rebuked him and spoke and called him by name:\n\"You wretch of a stranger, you have no sound sense in you!\nAre you not content that you feast in peace among us proud men,\nand are not cheated of your share of the feast, but you listen\nto our words and our talk? No other stranger\nor beggar hears our words. Sweet wine hurts you,\nthe honey-sweet wine that harms others too, whoever\ngulps it down and does not drink in measure.\nWine drove even the Centaur, famous Eurytion,\nmad in the hall of great-hearted Peirithous,\nwhen he came to the Lapiths; and when wine ruined his wits,\nraging he did evil deeds in Peirithous' house;\ngrief seized the heroes, and they sprang up and dragged him\nthrough the doorway and outside, and cut off his ears and his nose\nwith pitiless bronze; and he, ruined in his own mind,\nwent on bearing his own folly with a foolish heart.\nFrom that time quarrelling arose between Centaurs and men,\nand he first found evil for himself by being heavy with wine.\nSo I foretell great trouble for you too, if you string\nthat bow; for you will meet with no kindness\nin our land, but at once in a black ship\nwe will send you to king Echetus, the destroyer of all mortals;\nfrom there you will never be saved. But quietly\ndrink, and do not quarrel with younger men.\"\nThen wise Penelope answered him:\n\"Antinous, it is neither fine nor just\nto slight the guests of Telemachus, whoever comes to this house.\nDo you expect that if this stranger strings Odysseus' great bow\nand trusts in his hands and his strength,\nhe will take me home and make me his wife?\nHe himself surely does not hope that in his breast;\nand let none of you feast here grieving in his heart\nfor that reason, since that is not fitting either.\"\nThen Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her:\n\"Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,\nwe do not think he will take you home; that is not fitting.\nBut we are ashamed before the talk of men and women,\nin case some other, worse Achaean should say:\n'Far worse men than he woo the wife\nof a blameless man, and cannot even string\nhis polished bow; but some beggar stranger came wandering in\nand easily strung the bow and shot through the iron.'\nSo they will say, and that would be a disgrace to us.\"\nThen wise Penelope answered him:\n\"Eurymachus, it is in no way possible for men to be well spoken of\nin the land who dishonour and eat up the house\nof a noble man. Why do you count this a disgrace?\nThis stranger here is very big and well built,\nand he claims to be born the son of a noble father.\nCome, give him the polished bow, so that we may see.\nFor I will say this, and it will also be brought to pass:\nif he strings it, and Apollo grants him glory,\nI will dress him in a cloak and tunic, fine clothes,\nand I will give him a sharp spear, a defence against dogs and men,\nand a two-edged sword; and I will give him sandals for his feet,\nand I will send him wherever his heart and spirit command.\"\nThen wise Telemachus answered her:\n\"My mother, no one of the Achaeans has more power than I\nto give or refuse it to whomever I wish,\nneither all who rule rocky Ithaca,\nnor all who hold the islands toward horse-pasturing Elis;\nnone of them will force me against my will, if I wish\nto give this bow outright to the stranger to carry away.\nBut go into the house and attend to your own work,\nthe loom and the distaff, and tell your women\nto go about their work; the bow will be a care for men,\nfor all of them, and most of all for me; for the power in this house is mine.\"\nShe was amazed and went back into the house;\nfor she laid her son's wise word to heart.\nShe went up to the upper room with her women servants,\nand then wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until sweet sleep\nAthene of the bright eyes cast upon her eyelids.\nBut the noble swineherd took up the curved bow and carried it;\nand all the suitors shouted at him in the hall;\nand one of the over-proud young men said:\n\"Where are you carrying the curved bow, you wretched swineherd,\nyou vagabond? Soon the swift dogs will eat you beside your pigs,\nalone, away from men, whom you raised, if Apollo\nand the other immortal gods are gracious to us.\"\nSo they spoke, but he carried it and set it down in that same place,\nafraid, because many were shouting in the hall.\nBut Telemachus from the other side called out with a threat:\n\"Father, carry the bow forward; soon you will not obey everyone well;\nor I, though younger, will chase you into the fields,\nthrowing stones at you; for I am stronger in force.\nIf only I were as much stronger than all the suitors\nin hands and strength, as many of them as are in the house!\nThen I would soon send someone home in misery\nout of our house, since they plot evil.\"\nSo he spoke, and all the suitors laughed sweetly at him,\nand the suitors let go of their harsh anger\nagainst Telemachus; and the swineherd carried the bow through the house\nand stood beside wise Odysseus and put it into his hands.\nHe called the nurse Eurycleia and spoke to her:\n\"Telemachus asks you, wise Eurycleia,\nto lock the closely fitted doors of the hall.\nAnd if anyone hears groaning or a noise inside\namong our men within the walls, let no one\ncome out, but stay quiet there at her work.\"\nSo he spoke, and her word was wingless — she needed no second telling —\nand she locked the doors of the well-built hall.\nAnd silently Philoetius sprang out of the house,\nand then locked the doors of the well-fenced courtyard.\nUnder the portico lay the cable of a curved ship,\nmade of papyrus, with which he tied the doors, and went back inside;\nhe went and sat down on the chair from which he had risen,\nwatching Odysseus. And he was already handling the bow,\nturning it all over, trying it this way and that,\nin case worms had eaten the horn while the lord was away.\nAnd one of them said, looking at his neighbour:\n\"This man must be a connoisseur and a thief of bows;\nor maybe such a bow lies at his home,\nor he wants to make one, since he handles it in his hands\nthis way and that, the wicked wandering beggar.\"\nAnother of the over-proud young men said:\n\"If only he could get as much profit\nas he will ever be able to string this bow.\"\nSo the suitors spoke; but Odysseus of many wiles,\nas soon as he had lifted the great bow and looked it over everywhere,\njust as a man skilled in the lyre and in song\neasily stretches a string around a new peg,\nfastening the twisted sheep-gut on both ends,\nso without effort Odysseus strung the great bow.\nTaking it in his right hand he tried the string;\nand it sang beautifully under his hand, like the voice of a swallow.\nGreat grief came to the suitors, and the skin\nof all of them changed; and Zeus thundered loudly, showing signs.\nAnd much-enduring noble Odysseus rejoiced,\nbecause the son of Cronos of the crooked counsel had sent him the sign.\nHe took a swift arrow, which lay beside him on the table,\nbare; the others lay inside the hollow quiver,\nthe ones the Achaeans were soon to try.\nTaking it by the middle he drew the string and the notches,\nsitting there on his chair, and shot the arrow,\naiming straight; he did not miss any of the axes,\nfrom the first handle, and straight through\ncame the bronze-heavy arrow; and he spoke to Telemachus:\n\"Telemachus, the stranger sitting in your hall has not disgraced you,\nnor have I missed the mark, nor did I toil long\nin stringing the bow; my strength is still firm,\nnot as the suitors supposed in their contempt.\nNow it is time for dinner to be made ready for the Achaeans\nin the light, and afterwards to make merry in another way\nwith song and lyre; for these are the things that go with a feast.\"\nHe spoke and nodded with his brows; and he put on the sharp sword,\nTelemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus,\nand laid his dear hand on the spear, and close beside him\nhe stood by the chair, armed in the flashing bronze.\n\n### Book 22\n\nBut Odysseus of many plans stripped off his rags,\nand jumped up onto the big threshold, holding the bow and the quiver\nthat was full of arrows, and he poured the swift arrows out\nright there in front of his feet, and then he spoke to the suitors:\n\"This contest that no one can escape is now finished.\nNow I will try another target, which no man has hit yet,\nto see if I can hit it, and may Apollo give me the glory.\"\nHe spoke, and aimed the bitter arrow straight at Antinous.\nThe man was just about to lift up a fine cup,\na golden one with two handles, and he was already holding it in his hands\nto drink some wine; and murder was not in his mind,\nhe had no care for it. Who among men at a feast\nwould think, one man alone among so many, even if he were very strong,\nthat someone would bring him death and black doom?\nOdysseus hit him with an arrow, aiming at his throat,\nand the point went straight out through his soft neck.\nHe tipped over to one side, and the cup fell from his hand\nas he was struck, and at once through his nostrils came a thick stream\nof a man's blood; and quickly he pushed the table away from him\nwith a kick of his foot, and spilled the food onto the ground;\nbread and roast meat were trampled together. And the suitors\nshouted through the house, when they saw the man had fallen,\nand they sprang up from their seats, shaken, through the hall,\nstaring everywhere at the well-built walls;\nbut there was no shield anywhere, nor a strong spear to grab.\nAnd they abused Odysseus with angry words:\n\"Stranger, you shoot at men like a villain. You will not\nmeet any more contests; now your sure destruction is here.\nFor now you have killed the man who was by far the best\nof the young men in Ithaca; so the vultures will eat you here.\"\nSo each man spoke, because they thought the man had not meant\nto kill him; but the fools did not understand\nthat the ends of destruction were fastened on them all too.\nThen with a scowl Odysseus of many plans spoke to them:\n\"You dogs! You never thought I would come back home\nfrom the land of the Trojans, since you were destroying my house,\nand sleeping with my slave women by force,\nand courting my wife while I was still alive,\nnot fearing the gods who hold the wide heaven,\nnor any human revenge that would come later.\nNow the ends of destruction are fastened on you all.\"\nSo he spoke, and pale fear took them all,\nand each man looked around for where he might escape sure death.\nAnd Eurymachus alone answered him and said:\n\"If you really are Odysseus of Ithaca, come back,\nthen what you said is fair, all that the Achaeans did,\nmany reckless things in the halls, and many in the fields.\nBut the man who was the cause of it all now lies dead,\nAntinous; for he was the one who started these deeds,\nnot so much wanting the marriage or needing it,\nbut planning other things, which the son of Cronos did not accomplish for him,\nso that he might be king over the people of well-built Ithaca\nhimself, and might kill your son by ambush.\nBut now he has fallen as his fate decreed, so spare your own people;\nand we afterwards, making amends throughout the land\nfor everything that has been drunk and eaten in your halls,\neach bringing a payment of twenty oxen,\nboth bronze and gold we will pay back, until your heart\nwarms; and before that, being angry is no blame.\"\nThen with a scowl Odysseus of many plans spoke to him:\n\"Eurymachus, not even if you gave me back all your fathers' property,\nall that you now have, and added whatever else from somewhere,\nnot even then would I keep my hands from the killing\nuntil the suitors pay for all their transgression.\nNow it lies before you: either to fight face to face\nor to run, whichever escapes death and the fates;\nbut I do not think anyone will escape sure destruction.\"\nSo he spoke, and their knees went weak and their hearts too.\nThen Eurymachus spoke to them a second time:\n\"Friends, this man will not hold back his terrible hands,\nbut since he has taken the well-polished bow and the quiver,\nfrom the smooth threshold he will shoot, until he\nkills us all; so let us remember our fighting.\nDraw your swords and hold up the tables\nagainst the swift-killing arrows; and let us all go at him\ntogether, in case we can push him off the threshold and the doors,\nand go up into the town, and raise the alarm as fast as possible;\nthen this man would soon shoot for the last time.\"\nSo he said, and drew his sharp sword,\nbronze, sharpened on both sides, and jumped at him\nshouting horribly; and at the same moment noble Odysseus\nlet an arrow fly, and hit him beside the breast at the nipple,\nand drove the swift shaft into his liver; and from his hand\nthe sword fell to the ground, and he doubled over the table\nand fell, bent forward, and spilled the food on the ground\nand the two-handled cup; and he beat the ground with his forehead\nin anguish of heart, and with both feet\nkicking the chair he shook it; and a mist poured over his eyes.\nAnd Amphinomus rushed straight at glorious Odysseus,\nand drew his sharp sword,\nin case he might get past him from the doors. But Telemachus\ngot there first and struck him from behind with the bronze spear\nbetween the shoulders, and drove it through his chest;\nand he fell with a thud, and beat the earth with all his forehead.\nAnd Telemachus jumped back, leaving the long-shadowed spear\nthere in Amphinomus; for he was greatly afraid that some Achaean\nmight stab him as he pulled out the long-shadowed spear,\nrushing with a sword, or hit him as he bent forward.\nHe ran, and very quickly reached his dear father,\nand standing close he spoke winged words:\n\"Father, now I will bring you a shield and two spears\nand a helmet all of bronze, fitted to your temples,\nand I will put armour on myself as I come, and I will give the swineherd\nand the cowherd others; for it is better to be armed.\"\nThen Odysseus of many plans answered him and said:\n\"Bring them running, while I still have arrows to defend myself,\nin case they drive me away from the doors when I am alone.\"\nSo he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father,\nand went to the store-room, where his famous armour lay.\nFrom there he took four shields, and eight spears,\nand four bronze helmets with horsehair crests;\nhe went carrying them, and very quickly reached his dear father,\nand he himself first put the bronze on his body;\nand in the same way the two servants put on the fine armour,\nand they stood on either side of Odysseus, the crafty-minded one.\nAnd he, as long as he had arrows to defend himself,\nall that time he kept hitting one suitor after another in his own house,\naiming carefully; and they fell in heaps.\nBut when the arrows ran out for the lord as he shot,\nhe leaned the bow against the door-post of the well-built hall,\nto stand there, against the shining wall;\nand he himself put a four-layered shield over his shoulders,\nand on his strong head he put a well-made helmet,\nwith horsehair, and the crest nodded terribly above;\nand he took two strong spears, tipped with bronze.\nNow there was a small side-door in the well-built wall,\nand at the very top, by the threshold of the well-built hall,\nthere was a way into a passage, and well-fitted boards closed it.\nOdysseus told the noble swineherd to watch it,\nstanding close beside it; for there was only one way of attack.\nAnd Agelaus spoke among them, saying a word to all:\n\"Friends, couldn't someone go up by the side-door\nand tell the people, and raise the alarm as fast as possible?\nthen this man would soon shoot for the last time.\"\nAnd Melanthius the goatherd answered him again:\n\"There is no way, Agelaus, Zeus-nurtured; for terribly near\nare the fine doors of the courtyard and the painful mouth of the passage;\nand one man, if he were brave, could hold them all off.\nBut come, let me bring you armour to put on\nfrom the store-room; for inside, I think, and nowhere else\ndid Odysseus and his glorious son put the armour.\"\nSo he spoke, and Melanthius the goatherd went up,\ninto the store-rooms of Odysseus through the gaps in the hall.\nFrom there he took twelve shields, and as many spears\nand as many bronze helmets with horsehair crests;\nhe went, and very quickly brought them and gave them to the suitors.\nAnd then the knees of Odysseus went weak and his heart too,\nwhen he saw them putting on the armour with their hands and shaking\nthe long spears; and it seemed a great task to him.\nAnd at once he spoke winged words to Telemachus:\n\"Telemachus, surely one of the women in the halls\nis stirring up this evil war against us two, or else Melanthius.\"\nAnd Telemachus, sensible, answered him:\n\"Father, I myself made this mistake, and no one else\nis to blame, I who left the close-fitted door of the store-room\nstanding open; but their lookout was better than mine.\"\n\"But come, noble Eumaeus, shut the door of the store-room\nand see whether it is one of the women who is doing this,\nor the son of Dolius, Melanthius, whom I suspect.\"\nSo the two of them spoke such things to each other,\nand Melanthius the goatherd went back to the store-room\nto carry the fine armour. And the noble swineherd noticed him,\nand at once spoke to Odysseus, who was near:\n\"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,\nthat man there again, the destroyer, whom we ourselves suspected,\nis going to the store-room; so tell me truly\nwhether I should kill him, if I get the better of him,\nor bring him to you here, so that he may pay for the transgressions,\nthe many that this man has plotted in your house.\"\nThen Odysseus of many plans answered him and said:\n\"I and Telemachus will hold back the lordly suitors\ninside the halls, however eager they are.\nAnd you two twist his feet and his hands up above\nand throw him into the store-room, and tie the boards behind him,\nand after tying a woven rope to him\ndrag him up a tall pillar and bring him close to the beams,\nso that he may live a long time and suffer hard pains.\"\nSo he spoke, and they heard him well and obeyed,\nand they went into the store-room, and he did not notice they were inside.\nHe searched for armour in the back of the store-room,\nand the two stood on either side by the door-posts, waiting.\nAnd when Melanthius the goatherd stepped over the threshold,\ncarrying a fine helmet in one hand,\nand in the other a broad old shield, covered with mould,\nthe hero Laertes' shield, which he used to carry when he was young;\nthen it lay there, and the stitches of its straps had come loose.\nAnd the two rushed him and seized him and dragged him inside\nby the hair, and threw him on the floor, grieved at heart,\nand tied his feet and hands with a painful bond,\ntwisting them well right round, just as he had ordered\nthe son of Laertes, much-enduring noble Odysseus;\nand after tying a woven rope to him\nthey dragged him up a tall pillar and brought him close to the beams.\nAnd mocking him you said, Eumaeus the swineherd:\n\"Now indeed, Melanthius, you will keep watch all night,\nlying in a soft bed, as is fitting for you;\nnor will early-born golden-throned Dawn, from the streams of Ocean,\npass you by as she comes, when you drive\nthe goats to the suitors through the house to make them a meal.\"\nSo he was left there, stretched in a deadly bond;\nand the two put on their armour, and shut the shining door,\nand went to Odysseus, crafty-minded, of many devices.\nThere they stood breathing fury, some at the threshold,\nfour of them, and others inside the halls, many and good.\nAnd close to them came the daughter of Zeus, Athena,\nlooking like Mentor in body and in voice.\nAnd Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her and spoke a word:\n\"Mentor, ward off ruin, and remember your dear comrade,\nwho used to do you good; and you are of my own age.\"\nSo he spoke, thinking she was Athena, rouser of armies.\nAnd the suitors shouted from the other side in the halls;\nfirst Agelaus, son of Damastor, rebuked her:\n\"Mentor, don't let Odysseus persuade you with words\nto fight the suitors, and to defend him himself.\nFor I think our plan will turn out like this:\nwhen we have killed these two, the father and the son,\nthen you too will be among them, doing what you want\nto do in the halls; and you will pay with your own head.\nBut when we have taken away your strength with bronze,\nall the possessions you have, both inside and outside,\nwe will mix with Odysseus' property; and we will not let\nyour sons live in the halls, nor your daughters,\nnor your wedded wife walk about the city of Ithaca.\"\nSo he spoke, and Athena grew angrier in her heart,\nand she rebuked Odysseus with angry words:\n\"No longer, Odysseus, is your might steady, nor any courage\nsuch as when for Helen of the white arms, of noble father,\nnine years you fought the Trojans without stopping,\nand you killed many men in dread battle,\nand by your plan the wide-streeted city of Priam was taken.\nHow then now, when you have come to your own home and property,\ndo you wail before the suitors that you are brave?\nBut come here, my friend, stand by me and see the work,\nso that you may know what kind of man among hostile men\nMentor son of Alcimus is, at repaying good deeds.\"\nShe spoke, and did not yet wholly grant the victory that tips the scale,\nbut still she tested the strength and courage\nof both Odysseus and his glorious son.\nAnd she herself, up on the roof-beam of the smoky hall,\nsat, having sprung up, like a swallow to look at.\nAnd Agelaus son of Damastor urged on the suitors,\nand Eurynomus and Amphimedon and Demoptolem,\nand Peisander son of Polyctor and clever Polybus;\nfor these were by far the best of the suitors in bravery,\nas many as were still alive and fighting for their lives;\nbut the bow and the thick-falling arrows had already beaten them.\nAnd Agelaus spoke among them, saying a word to all:\n\"Friends, now this man will hold back his terrible hands;\nand look, Mentor has gone off, after empty boasting,\nand those two are left alone at the front doors.\nSo now don't all hurl your long spears at once,\nbut come, let the six of you throw first, in case Zeus\ngrants that Odysseus is hit, and we win the glory.\nFor the others there is no worry, once this man has fallen.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all threw, just as he ordered,\neager; but Athena made them all useless,\none of them hit the door-post of the well-built hall,\nanother the closely fitted door;\nanother's bronze-heavy ash spear fell against the wall.\nBut when they had dodged the spears of the suitors,\nthen much-enduring noble Odysseus began to speak among them:\n\"Friends, now I would say that we too should throw\ninto the crowd of the suitors, who are eager\nto kill us, on top of their earlier crimes.\"\nSo he spoke, and they all threw sharp spears,\naiming straight ahead; Odysseus hit Demoptolem,\nand Telemachus Eurydamas, and the swineherd Elatus,\nand the cowherd of the cattle killed Peisander.\nThen all of them alike bit the boundless earth with their teeth,\nand the suitors drew back to the back of the hall;\nand the others rushed up and took the spears from the dead.\nAnd again the suitors threw sharp spears,\neager; but Athena made most of them useless,\none of them hit the door-post of the well-built hall,\nanother the closely fitted door;\nanother's bronze-heavy ash spear fell against the wall.\nAnd Amphimedon hit Telemachus on the wrist of his hand\na grazing blow, and the bronze broke the top skin.\nAnd Ctesippus with his long spear over the swineherd's shield\ngrazed his shoulder; and the spear flew over and fell to the ground.\nAnd the others again around Odysseus, crafty-minded and full of tricks,\nthrew sharp spears into the crowd of the suitors.\nThen again Odysseus, sacker of cities, hit Eurydamas,\nand Telemachus Amphimedon, and the swineherd Polybus;\nand then Ctesippus the cowherd of the cattle\nhit in the chest, and boasting he called out:\n\"Son of Polytherses, lover of mockery, never again\nin your foolishness give in to speaking big words, but to the gods\nhand over the word, since they are far stronger.\nThis is your guest-gift in return for the foot you once gave\nto godlike Odysseus as he wandered through his house.\"\nSo spoke the cowherd of the sleek cattle; and Odysseus\nstabbed the son of Damastor at close range with his long spear.\nAnd Telemachus struck Leocritus, son of Evenor,\nwith his spear in the middle of the flank, and drove the bronze right through;\nand he fell face down, and beat the earth with all his forehead.\nThen Athena held up the man-destroying aegis\nfrom above, out of the roof; and their minds were panicked.\nAnd they fled through the hall like herds of cattle,\nwhich the darting gadfly, rushing on them, drives mad\nin the spring season, when the days grow long.\nAnd as hook-clawed vultures with curved talons,\ncoming from the mountains, rush at birds,\nand the birds over the plain, cowering from the clouds, fly low,\nand the vultures leap on them and destroy them, and there is no defence\nnor escape; and men enjoy the hunt;\nso then those men rushed at the suitors through the house\nand struck them, turning this way and that; and a shameful groan rose up\nas their heads were struck, and the whole floor ran with blood.\nAnd Leodes rushed at Odysseus and grabbed his knees,\nand pleading he spoke winged words:\n\"I beg you, Odysseus; respect me and have pity on me;\nfor I say that I never said\nor did anything reckless to any of the women in the halls; but I even\nkept the other suitors back from it, whoever did such things.\nBut they did not obey me, to keep their hands off evil;\nso because of their recklessness they came to a shameful death.\nBut I, a diviner among them, having done nothing,\nwill lie dead, since there is no thanks afterwards for good deeds.\"\nThen with a scowl Odysseus of many plans spoke to him:\n\"If you really claim to be a diviner among them,\noften, I suppose, you prayed in the halls\nthat the end of my sweet homecoming would be far off,\nand that my dear wife would go with you, and that you would father children;\nso you will not escape death that brings hard grief.\"\nSo saying, he picked up in his thick hand the sword\nthat lay there, which Agelaus had let fall to the ground\nwhen he was killed; with it he struck him in the middle of the neck.\nAnd while he was still speaking, his head was mixed with the dust.\nAnd Terpiades the singer was still fleeing black doom,\nPhemius, who used to sing among the suitors by compulsion.\nHe stood holding in his hands the clear-sounding lyre\nclose beside the side-door; and in his mind he weighed two choices,\nwhether he should slip out of the hall to the altar of great Zeus\nof the courtyard, and sit there, where many times\nLaertes and Odysseus had burned the thighs of oxen,\nor whether he should rush and beg Odysseus by the knees.\nAnd as he thought it over, this seemed to him the better choice,\nto clasp the knees of Odysseus, son of Laertes.\nSo he set the hollow lyre on the ground\nbetween the mixing-bowl and the silver-studded chair,\nand he himself rushed and grabbed the knees of Odysseus,\nand pleading he spoke winged words:\n\"I beg you, Odysseus; respect me and have pity on me;\nfor afterwards there will be grief for you yourself, if you kill\na singer, who sings for gods and men.\nI am self-taught, and a god has planted in my mind\nsongs of every kind; and I seem to sing before you\nas before a god; so do not long to cut my throat.\nAnd Telemachus would say this too, your dear son,\nthat I never came to your house willingly or from want,\ngoing among the suitors to sing at their feasts,\nbut far more numerous and stronger men brought me by compulsion.\"\nSo he spoke, and the sacred strength of Telemachus heard him,\nand at once he spoke to his father, who was near:\n\"Hold back, and do not strike this innocent man with the bronze;\nand let us save the herald Medon too, who always\ncared for me in our house when I was a child,\nunless Philoetius has killed him, or the swineherd,\nor he ran into you as you raged through the house.\"\nSo he spoke, and Medon heard him, a man of good sense;\nfor he lay crouching under a chair, and around him\nhe had wrapped a freshly skinned ox-hide, fleeing black doom.\nAnd at once he sprang up from the chair, and quickly stripped off the ox-hide,\nand then he rushed and grabbed the knees of Telemachus,\nand pleading he spoke winged words:\n\"Friend, I am here; hold back, and tell your father\nnot to hurt me in his overwhelming strength with the sharp bronze,\nangry with the suitors, who were eating up\nhis property in the halls, and the fools paid you no respect at all.\"\nAnd with a smile Odysseus of many plans spoke to him:\n\"Take heart, since this man has saved you and rescued you,\nso that you may know in your heart — and tell it to someone else too —\nthat doing good is far better than doing evil.\nBut come out of the halls and sit outside the door,\naway from the killing, in the courtyard, you and the famous singer,\nwhile I do in the house whatever I must do.\"\nSo he spoke, and the two went out of the hall,\nand they sat down beside the altar of great Zeus,\nlooking every way, always expecting killing.\nAnd Odysseus looked through his house, in case any man\nwere still alive and hiding, fleeing black doom.\nHe saw them all, in blood and dust,\nfallen, many of them, like fish, which fishermen\ninto the hollow shore, out beyond the grey sea,\nhave dragged with a many-meshed net; and they all,\nlonging for the waves of the sea, lie gasping on the sand;\nand the shining Sun takes the life from them;\nso then the suitors lay fallen on one another.\nThen Odysseus of many plans spoke to Telemachus:\n\"Telemachus, come, call the nurse Eurycleia for me,\nso that I can say a word that is in my heart.\"\nSo he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father,\nand after pushing the door he spoke to the nurse Eurycleia:\n\"Come here, get up, old woman, long since grown old, who among the women\nare the one who watches the maidservants through our halls;\ncome, my father is calling you, to say something.\"\nSo he called, and her word was unwinged,\nand she opened the doors of the well-built halls,\nand went in; and Telemachus led the way in front of her.\nShe found Odysseus among the slain corpses,\ncovered with blood and gore like a lion\nthat has eaten its fill of a farmyard ox and comes away;\nand all of his chest and both his cheeks\nare bloody, and he is terrible to look at in the face;\nso Odysseus was covered, his feet and his hands above.\nAnd when she saw the corpses and the boundless blood,\nshe wanted to cry out in triumph, since she saw a great deed;\nbut Odysseus held her back and stopped her, eager as she was,\nand speaking he addressed her with winged words:\n\"In your heart, old woman, rejoice, and hold back, and do not cry out;\nit is not holy to boast over slain men.\nBut these the fate of the gods subdued, and their cruel deeds;\nfor they honoured no one of the men on earth,\nneither bad nor good, whoever came to them;\nso because of their recklessness they came to a shameful death.\nBut come, list for me the women in the halls,\nthose who dishonour me, and those who are innocent.\"\nAnd her dear nurse Eurycleia answered him:\n\"Then I will tell you the truth, my child.\nThere are fifty women in the halls,\nmaidservants, whom we taught to do their work,\nboth to card the wool and to put up with slavery;\nof these twelve in all have taken the path of shamelessness,\nhonouring neither me nor Penelope herself.\nAnd Telemachus was lately growing up, and his mother\ndid not let him give orders to the maidservants.\nBut come, let me go up to the shining upper rooms\nand tell your wife, on whom some god has poured sleep.\"\nAnd answering her Odysseus of many plans said:\n\"Do not wake her yet; but tell the women here\nto come, those who before were plotting shameful things.\"\nSo he spoke, and the old woman went through the hall\nto tell the women and to urge them to come.\nAnd he, calling Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd\nto himself, spoke winged words:\n\"Begin now to carry out the dead, and give the women their orders;\nand then the very beautiful chairs and the tables\nwash with water and with porous sponges.\nAnd when you have put the whole house in order,\nlead the maidservants out of the well-built hall,\nbetween the round building and the good wall of the courtyard,\nand strike them with long-edged swords, until you have taken\nthe lives from them all, and they forget Aphrodite,\nwhom they had under the suitors and mingled with in secret.\"\nSo he spoke, and the women came all together,\nwailing terribly, pouring down a big tear.\nFirst they carried out the corpses of the dead,\nand laid them under the portico of the well-fenced courtyard,\npropping them against one another; and Odysseus gave the orders,\nhimself urging them on; and they carried them out by compulsion.\nAnd then the very beautiful chairs and the tables\nthey washed with water and with porous sponges.\nAnd Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd\nwith scrapers scoured the floor of the well-made house;\nand the maidservants carried it out and put it outside.\nBut when they had put the whole hall in order,\nand led the maidservants out of the well-built hall,\nbetween the round building and the good wall of the courtyard,\nthey penned them in a narrow place, from which there was no escape.\nAnd Telemachus, sensible, began to speak to them:\n\"I would not take the lives of these with a clean death,\nthese who poured insults on my head\nand on my mother, and lay beside the suitors.\"\nSo he spoke, and tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship\nto a great pillar, and flung it round the round building,\nstretching it up high, so that no one's feet could reach the floor.\nAnd as when either long-winged thrushes or doves\nare caught in a snare, which is set in a thicket,\nas they come in to roost, and a hateful bed receives them;\nso their heads were in a row, and around all of them\nwere nooses on their necks, so that they might die most piteously.\nAnd they twitched with their feet for a little while, but not very long.\nAnd they brought Melanthius out through the porch and the courtyard;\nand they cut off his nose and his ears with the pitiless bronze,\nand tore out his privy parts, to give them raw to the dogs,\nand cut off his hands and his feet in their angry hearts.\nThen they washed their hands and their feet\nand went into the house of Odysseus, and the work was done;\nand he spoke to his dear nurse Eurycleia:\n\"Bring sulphur, old woman, the cure of evils, and bring me fire,\nso that I may fumigate the hall; and tell Penelope\nto come here with her attendant women;\nand urge all the maidservants to come through the house.\"\nAnd her dear nurse Eurycleia answered him:\n\"Yes indeed, my child, you have spoken as is right.\nBut come, let me bring you a cloak and a tunic and clothing,\nand do not stand like this in the halls, covered with rags\nover your broad shoulders; that would be a thing to blame.\"\nAnd answering her Odysseus of many plans said:\n\"First of all, let there be a fire for me in the halls.\"\nSo he spoke, and his dear nurse Eurycleia did not disobey,\nand she brought fire and sulphur; and Odysseus\nfumigated the hall well, and the house and the courtyard.\nAnd the old woman went back through the fine halls of Odysseus\nto tell the women and to urge them to come;\nand they came out of the hall, holding torches in their hands.\nAnd they crowded around him and greeted Odysseus,\nand kissed his head and shoulders, clasping him in welcome,\nand took his hands; and a sweet longing seized him\nfor weeping and groaning, and in his heart he knew them all.\n\n### Book 23\n\nThe old woman went up to the upper room, laughing for joy,\nto tell her mistress that her dear husband was inside the house;\nher knees were strengthened and her feet hurried her along.\nShe stood over her head and spoke to her:\nWake up, Penelope, dear child, so that you can see\nwith your own eyes what you have wanted all your days.\nOdysseus has come, he is here at the house, late though he came.\nAnd he has killed the proud suitors, who were destroying his house\nand eating his property and bullying his son.\nThen wise Penelope answered her:\nDear nurse, the gods have driven you mad, the gods who can\nmake a fool of even a very sensible person,\nand can set a thoughtless person on the path of good sense;\nthey have hurt you; before this you were in your right mind.\nWhy do you mock me, when I have a heart full of grief,\ntelling me this false tale and waking me from sleep,\nsweet sleep, which closed my dear eyelids over my eyes?\nI have not slept like this since the day Odysseus\nwent off to look at evil Troy, which should not be named.\nBut come now, go down and go back to the hall.\nIf any other woman among those I have\nhad come and told me this and woken me from sleep,\nI would have sent her off quickly to go back with abuse\ninto the hall again; but your old age will save you here.\nThen her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:\nI am not mocking you, dear child, but truly\nOdysseus has come, he is here at the house, just as I say,\nthe stranger, whom everyone in the halls treated with contempt.\nTelemachus knew long ago that he was inside,\nbut in his good sense he kept his father's plans hidden,\nuntil he could take revenge on the violence of the arrogant men.\nSo she spoke, and Penelope was glad, and jumping from the bed\nshe threw her arms around the old woman, and a tear fell from her eyes;\nand she spoke to her and said these winged words:\nCome now, dear nurse, tell me the truth,\nwhether he has really come home, as you say,\nand how he laid hands on the shameless suitors\nwhen he was alone, while they were always inside together.\nThen her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:\nI did not see it, I did not hear it, but I only heard the groaning\nof men being killed; we sat in the back of the well-built rooms\nterrified, and the well-fitted doors kept us in,\nuntil your son Telemachus called me from the hall;\nhis father had sent him to call me.\nThen I found Odysseus standing among the dead bodies;\nthey lay around him on the hard floor,\none on top of another; you would have warmed your heart to see it.\nBut now they are all at the courtyard doors,\nall together, and he is purifying the beautiful house,\nhaving lit a great fire; and he sent me to call you.\nSo come with me, so that the two of you can enter into joy,\nboth of your dear hearts, since you have suffered so much evil.\nAnd now this long desire has been fulfilled:\nhe has come home alive himself, and he has found you\nand your son in the halls; and the evil they did to him,\nthe suitors, he has made them all pay in his own house.\nThen wise Penelope answered her:\nDear nurse, do not boast so much in your joy.\nYou know how welcome he would appear in the halls\nto everyone, and most of all to me and to the son we bore;\nbut this story of yours is not true, as you tell it,\nbut one of the immortals killed the noble suitors,\nangry at their painful arrogance and their evil deeds.\nThey honored no man on earth,\nneither bad nor good, whoever came to them;\nso through their own recklessness they suffered harm; but Odysseus\nlost his homecoming far from Achaea, and he himself is dead.\nThen her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:\nMy child, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth,\nwhen you say that your husband, who is right here by the hearth,\nwill never come home; your heart is always distrustful.\nBut come, I will tell you another very clear sign,\nthe scar, which a boar once struck on him with its white tusk.\nI noticed it while washing him, and I wanted to tell you yourself,\nbut he grabbed my mouth with his hands\nand would not let me speak, in the cleverness of his mind.\nBut come; and I will stake my own life on it,\nif I deceive you, then kill me with the most pitiful death.\nThen wise Penelope answered her:\nDear nurse, it is hard to search out the plans of the gods\nwho live forever, even for someone very clever.\nBut all the same, let us go to my son, so that I can see\nthe suitors dead, and the man who killed them.\nSo she spoke, and came down from the upper room; and her heart\nwas much stirred, whether she should question her dear husband from a distance,\nor stand beside him and kiss his head and take his hands.\nWhen she came in and crossed the stone threshold,\nshe sat down opposite Odysseus, in the light of the fire,\nagainst the other wall; and he sat looking down\ntoward the tall pillar, waiting to see whether his noble wife\nwould say anything to him, now that he had seen her with his eyes.\nShe sat a long time without a word, and amazement came over her heart;\nnow she would look at him straight in the face,\nnow she would not recognize him, because of the ugly clothes on his body.\nThen Telemachus scolded her and spoke and called her by name:\nMother, my mother, hard-hearted mother,\nwhy do you hold yourself away from my father like this, and not\nsit beside him and ask him questions with words?\nNo other woman with such a patient heart\nwould keep away from her husband, who after suffering so much\nhad come back to his homeland in the twentieth year;\nyour heart is always harder than stone.\nThen wise Penelope answered him:\nMy child, my heart in my breast is stunned,\nand I cannot speak a word or ask a question\nor look him in the face. But if it is really true\nthat Odysseus is here and has come home, then the two of us\nwill know each other better; for we have\nsigns that we two know, hidden from everyone else.\nSo she spoke, and much-enduring noble Odysseus smiled,\nand at once he spoke winged words to Telemachus:\nTelemachus, let your mother test me in the halls;\nsoon she will know me better.\nAs it is, because I am dirty and wear ugly clothes on my body,\nshe treats me with contempt and says I am not that man.\nLet us think about how things can turn out best.\nEven a man who has killed just one man in his country,\nwhen there are not many people to avenge him later,\nruns away, leaving his relatives and his homeland;\nbut we have killed the mainstay of the city, the very best\nof the young men in Ithaca; I tell you to think about this.\nThen sensible Telemachus answered him:\nYou look to these things yourself, dear father; for men say\nyour advice is the best in the world, and no other man\namong mortals could compete with you.\nWe will follow you eagerly, and I say\nI will not lack courage, as far as my strength goes.\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nThen I will say what seems best to me.\nFirst wash yourselves and put on tunics,\nand tell the women in the halls to pick out clothes;\nlet the divine singer, holding his clear-toned lyre,\nlead us in a dance that loves play,\nso that anyone hearing it outside might say there is a wedding,\neither someone walking on the road or the neighbors;\nso that the wide rumor of the killing does not spread through the city,\nthe rumor about the suitors, before we get out\nto our field with its many trees; and there\nwe will plan whatever gain Olympian Zeus puts in our hands.\nSo he spoke, and they listened to him and obeyed.\nFirst they washed and put on tunics,\nand the women dressed themselves; the divine singer took\nthe hollow lyre and stirred in them desire\nfor sweet song and faultless dancing.\nThe great house echoed with the feet\nof men playing and of women with fine belts.\nAnd someone outside the house would say, hearing it:\nTruly, someone has married the much-courted queen;\ncruel woman, she did not have the heart to keep her lawful husband's\ngreat house to the end, until he came home.\nSo someone would say, but they did not know how things really were.\nBut great-hearted Odysseus in his own house\nwas bathed by the housekeeper Eurynome and anointed with oil,\nand she threw a fine cloak and tunic around him;\nand on his head Athena poured great beauty,\nmaking him taller to look at and more solid; and from his head\nshe sent down curly hair, like the hyacinth flower.\nJust as when a man pours gold over silver,\na skilled craftsman, whom Hephaestus taught and Pallas Athena\nin every craft, and he turns out lovely work;\nso she poured grace over his head and shoulders.\nHe came out of the bath looking like the immortals in body;\nand he sat down again on the throne he had risen from,\nopposite his wife, and spoke to her:\nStrange woman, the gods who hold Olympus have made\nyour heart harder than any other woman's;\nno other woman with such a patient heart\nwould keep away from her husband, who after suffering so much\nhad come back to his homeland in the twentieth year.\nBut come, nurse, make up a bed for me, so that I myself\ncan lie down; for this woman has an iron heart in her breast.\nThen wise Penelope answered him:\nStrange man, I am not putting on airs or making light of you,\nnor am I too amazed; but I know very well what you were like\nwhen you sailed from Ithaca in a long-oared ship.\nBut come, Eurycleia, make him up a firm bed\noutside the well-built bedroom, the one he built himself;\nand there put the firm bedding on it,\nhides and blankets and shining covers.\nSo she spoke, testing her husband; but Odysseus\nwas angry and spoke to his faithful wife:\nWoman, truly this was a painful thing you said.\nWho has put my bed somewhere else? That would be hard\neven for a very skilled man, unless a god came himself\nand easily, if he wanted, set it in another place.\nBut no living mortal man, not even a strong young one,\ncould easily move it, since a great sign was made\ninto that crafted bed; and I made it, and no one else.\nThere grew a long-leaved olive tree inside the walled yard,\nin full bloom; it was as thick as a pillar.\nI built a bedroom around it, until I finished it,\nwith closely set stones, and I roofed it well on top,\nand I put in fitted doors, closely joined.\nAnd then I cut off the foliage of the long-leaved olive,\nand I cut the trunk off at the root and trimmed it with bronze,\nwell and skillfully, and I made it straight by the line,\nworking it into a bedpost, and I bored all the holes with a drill.\nFrom that I began and made the bed, until I finished it,\ndecorating it with gold and silver and ivory;\nand I stretched an oxhide thong through it, shining with purple.\nThat is the sign I am showing you; and I do not know\nwhether my bed is still firm in place, woman, or whether some man\nhas put it somewhere else, cutting away the base of the olive.\nSo he spoke, and her knees and her dear heart gave way,\nas she recognized the signs that Odysseus had told her clearly.\nThen she burst into tears and ran straight to him, and around his neck\nshe threw her arms around Odysseus, and kissed his head and said:\nDo not be angry with me, Odysseus, since in everything else\nyou were the most sensible of men; the gods gave us sorrow,\nthey begrudged us that we two, staying beside each other,\nshould enjoy our youth and reach the threshold of old age.\nBut do not be angry with me now for this and do not hold it against me,\nbecause I did not welcome you like this the first time I saw you.\nFor always my heart in my dear breast\nshuddered in fear that some mortal would come and deceive me with words;\nfor many people plan evil tricks.\nNot even Argive Helen, born of Zeus,\nwould have slept with a foreign man in love and bed,\nif she had known that the warlike sons of the Achaeans\nwere going to bring her back home to her dear homeland.\nBut a god stirred her to do that shameful deed;\nshe did not first store that ruin in her own heart,\nthe miserable ruin from which grief first came to us too.\nBut now, since you have told me the very clear signs\nof our bed, which no other mortal has seen,\nbut only you and I and one single servant girl,\nActor's daughter, whom my father gave me when I came here,\nwho guarded the doors of our solid bedroom for us,\nyou have persuaded my heart, hard as it is.\nSo she spoke, and stirred in him still more longing for weeping;\nand he wept, holding his dear wife, the faithful woman.\nAs when land appears welcome to men swimming,\nwhose well-built ship Poseidon has wrecked on the sea,\ndriven on by the wind and a solid wave;\nand few escaped the gray sea to the mainland\nby swimming, and a lot of brine has crusted on their skin,\nand gladly they set foot on land, escaping their trouble;\nso welcome to her was her husband as she looked at him,\nand she did not yet let her white arms go from his neck.\nAnd rosy-fingered Dawn would have appeared to them as they wept,\nif the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, had not thought of something else.\nShe held back the long night at its limit, and kept\ngolden-throned Dawn away at Ocean, and did not let\nthe swift-footed horses be yoked, that bring light to men,\nLampus and Phaethon, the colts that draw Dawn.\nAnd then resourceful Odysseus spoke to his wife:\nWoman, we have not yet reached the end of all our trials,\nbut there will still be immeasurable toil ahead,\nmuch and hard, which I must complete entirely.\nFor so the spirit of Teiresias foretold to me\non the day when I went down into the house of Hades,\nlooking for a way home for my companions and for myself.\nBut come, let us go to bed, woman, so that now at last\nwe may enjoy sweet sleep, lying down.\nThen wise Penelope answered him:\nThe bed will be yours whenever you want it\nin your heart, since the gods have made you come\nto your well-built home and your homeland;\nbut since you thought of it and a god put it in your mind,\ncome, tell me the trial, since I think I will learn of it\nlater too, and knowing it right away is no worse.\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered her and said:\nStrange woman, why do you urge me so hard and tell me\nto say it? But I will tell you, and I will not hide anything.\nYour heart will not be glad; for I myself\nam not glad either, since he told me to go to many cities of men,\nholding in my hands a well-made oar,\nuntil I reach men who do not know the sea,\nmen who do not eat food mixed with salt;\nwho do not know ships with red-painted cheeks,\nnor well-made oars, which are wings for ships.\nHe told me this clear sign, and I will not hide it from you:\nwhen another traveler, meeting me,\nsays that I have a winnowing fan on my bright shoulder,\nthen he told me to fix the oar in the ground,\nand after making fine holy rites to lord Poseidon,\na ram and a bull and a boar that mounts sows,\nto go back home and make holy hecatombs\nto the immortal gods who hold the wide heaven,\nall of them in order; and death will come to me from the sea,\na very gentle one, such as will kill me\nworn out by sleek old age; and the people around me\nwill be prosperous; he said all this would come true.\nThen wise Penelope answered him:\nIf the gods are going to bring about a better old age,\nthen there is hope that you will escape troubles.\nSo they talked about such things with each other;\nand meanwhile Eurynome and the nurse made up the bed\nwith soft bedding, under the light of torches.\nWhen they had spread the firm bed in their hurry,\nthe old woman went back to lie down in her own room,\nand the chambermaid Eurynome led them\nto the bed, holding a torch in her hands;\nand she brought them to the bedroom and then went away. And then the two\ngladly came to the custom of their old bed;\nbut Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd\nstopped their feet from dancing, and stopped the women,\nand they went to bed themselves through the shadowy halls.\nWhen the two had enjoyed their lovely love,\nthey took pleasure in stories, talking to each other:\nshe told everything she had endured in the halls, she the shining one among women,\nwatching the crowd of suitors, those destroyers,\nwho for her sake slaughtered many cattle and fat sheep,\nand lots of wine was drawn from the jars;\nand Zeus-born Odysseus told all the troubles he had brought\non men, and all that he himself had suffered in his toil;\nhe told everything, and she took pleasure in hearing it, and sleep\ndid not fall on her eyelids before he had told it all.\nHe began with how he first subdued the Cicones, and then\ncame to the rich farmland of the Lotus-eaters;\nand all that the Cyclops did, and how he punished him\nfor his stout companions, whom he ate and did not pity;\nand how he came to Aeolus, who welcomed him kindly\nand sent him on, but it was not yet his fate to reach his dear homeland,\nbut again a storm snatched him up and carried him\nover the fish-filled sea, and he groaned heavily;\nand how he came to Telepylus of the Laestrygonians,\nwho destroyed his ships and his well-greaved companions,\nall of them; and Odysseus alone escaped with his black ship;\nand he told of Circe's trickery and her many schemes,\nand how he came to the dank house of Hades,\nto consult the spirit of Theban Teiresias,\nin his many-benched ship, and he saw all his companions\nand his mother, who bore him and raised him when he was small;\nand how he heard the voice of the clear-sounding Sirens,\nand how he came to the Wandering Rocks and terrible Charybdis\nand Scylla, whom no men ever escaped unharmed;\nand how his companions killed the cattle of the Sun;\nand how Zeus who thunders on high struck his swift ship with a smoking bolt,\nand his good companions perished\nall together, and he alone escaped the evil fates;\nand how he came to Ogygia, the island, and the nymph Calypso,\nwho kept him there, wanting him to be her husband,\nin her hollow caves, and fed him and said\nshe would make him immortal and ageless forever;\nbut she never persuaded the heart in his breast;\nand how he came to the Phaeacians after much suffering,\nwho honored him in their hearts like a god\nand sent him with a ship to his dear homeland,\ngiving him bronze and gold in abundance and clothing.\nThis was the last thing he said, when sweet sleep\ncame over him, loosening his limbs, releasing the cares of his heart.\nThen again the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, thought of something else:\nas soon as she thought that Odysseus in his heart\nhad had his joy of his wife's bed and of sleep,\nshe at once roused golden-throned early-born Dawn from Ocean,\nto bring light to men; and Odysseus rose\nfrom the soft bed and gave his wife a command:\nWoman, we have both had our fill of many trials,\nyou here, weeping for my homecoming\nwith all its troubles; and Zeus and the other gods\nkept pressing me with sorrows, as I longed to get back to my homeland;\nbut now, since we have both come to our much-desired bed,\nyou must take care of the property I have in the halls,\nand the flocks that the arrogant suitors have butchered;\nI myself will seize much of it, and the Achaeans\nwill give more, until they fill all my farmsteads.\nBut I will go to the field with its many trees\nto see my noble father, who grieves deeply for me;\nand to you, woman, I give this command, wise as you are:\nfor at once the news will spread with the rising sun\nabout the suitors, whom I killed in the halls;\ngo up to the upper room with your women servants\nand sit there, and do not look out or ask anyone anything.\nHe spoke, and put his fine armor around his shoulders,\nand roused Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd,\nand ordered them all to take up the weapons of war in their hands.\nThey did not disobey him, but armed themselves in bronze,\nand opened the doors and went out; Odysseus led the way.\nAlready the light was on the earth, and Athena\nhid them in night and quickly led them out of the city.\n\n### Book 24\n\nHermes of Cyllene was calling out the souls\nof the suitors; he held in his hands a rod\nbeautiful and golden, with which he charms the eyes of men\nwhom he wishes, and wakes others again even while they sleep;\nwith it he stirred them and led them, and they followed, squeaking.\nAs when bats in the depth of a wondrous cave\nfly squeaking, when one has fallen\nfrom the cluster on the rock, and they cling to one another,\nso they went along squeaking; and Hermes led them\nalong the dank paths.\nThey went past the streams of Ocean and the White Rock,\nand past the gates of the Sun and the land of dreams\nthey went; and quickly they came to the meadow of asphodel,\nwhere the souls dwell, the ghosts of the worn-out dead.\nThey found the soul of Achilles, son of Peleus,\nand of Patroclus and of blameless Antilochus,\nand of Ajax, who was the best in form and build\nof the other Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus.\nSo they were gathered around him; and close at hand\ncame the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,\ngrieving; and around him all the others were gathered, as many as had died\nwith him in the house of Aegisthus and met their fate.\nThe soul of the son of Peleus spoke to him first:\nSon of Atreus, we said that you were dear to Zeus who delights in thunder\namong heroic men for all your days,\nbecause you ruled over many and strong men\nin the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered pains.\nAnd so an early doom was destined to come upon you too,\nthat doom which no one escapes who is born.\nHow I wish that you had enjoyed the honor you held as king\nin the land of the Trojans, and met death and fate there;\nthen all the Achaeans would have made you a tomb,\nand would have won great glory for your son afterwards;\nbut now it was fated that you be taken by the most pitiable death.\nThen the soul of the son of Atreus answered him:\nBlessed son of Peleus, godlike Achilles,\nwho died in Troy far from Argos; and around you others\nwere killed, the sons of the Trojans and the best of the Achaeans,\nfighting over you; but you in the whirlwind of dust\nlay, great in your greatness, forgetful of your horsemanship.\nWe fought the whole day long; nor would we ever\nhave stopped from war, if Zeus had not stopped it with a storm.\nBut when we had carried you from the battle to the ships,\nwe laid you on a bier, after cleansing your fair body\nwith warm water and oil; and around you many\nwarm tears the Danaans shed and they cut their hair.\nYour mother came from the sea with the immortal sea nymphs,\nwhen she heard the news; and a cry rose over the sea,\na wondrous one, and trembling seized all the Achaeans.\nAnd now they would have jumped up and gone to the hollow ships,\nif a man had not held them back, one old and knowing many things,\nNestor, whose advice had shown itself the best before too.\nHe, thinking kindly, spoke to them and said:\nHold back, Argives, do not flee, sons of the Achaeans;\nthis is his mother from the sea, with the immortal sea nymphs,\ncoming to meet her dead son.\nSo he spoke, and they held back, the great-hearted Achaeans;\nand around you stood the daughters of the old man of the sea,\nlamenting piteously, and they dressed you in immortal clothing.\nAnd all nine Muses, answering one another with beautiful voice,\nsang the dirge; and there you would have seen no one\nof the Argives without tears; so much did the clear-voiced Muse stir them.\nFor seventeen days alike, nights and days,\nwe wept, both the immortal gods and mortal men;\nand on the eighteenth we gave you to the fire, and around you\nwe killed many sheep, very fat, and horned cattle.\nYou burned in the clothing of the gods and in much oil\nand sweet honey; and many Achaean heroes\narmed themselves with their gear around the burning pyre,\nboth footmen and horsemen; and a great din rose.\nBut when the flame of Hephaestus had finished you,\nat dawn we gathered your white bones, Achilles,\nin unmixed wine and oil; and your mother gave\na golden two-handled urn; and she said it was\na gift of Dionysus, and the work of famous Hephaestus.\nIn it your white bones lie, shining Achilles,\nmixed with those of Patroclus, son of Menoetius, who had died,\nand apart those of Antilochus, whom you honored above all\nyour other companions, after Patroclus at least had died.\nAnd over them then a great and blameless tomb\nwe heaped up, the sacred army of Argive spearmen,\non a jutting headland by the wide Hellespont,\nso that it might be seen from far out at sea by men\nwho now are born and who will be afterwards.\nAnd your mother, having asked the gods for very beautiful prizes,\nset them in the middle of the contest for the best of the Achaeans.\nAlready at the burial of many men\nof heroes you have been present, when a king has died\nand young men gird themselves and prepare contests;\nbut you would have marveled above all in your heart at those\nwhich the goddess set before you, the very beautiful prizes,\nsilver-footed Thetis; for you were very dear to the gods.\nSo you did not lose your name even in death, but forever\namong all men your good fame will be, Achilles;\nbut what pleasure was that to me, since I had wound up the war?\nFor on my return Zeus planned for me a wretched destruction\nby the hands of Aegisthus and my accursed wife.\nSo these two spoke such things to one another,\nand close to them came the guide, the slayer of Argus,\nbringing down the souls of the suitors subdued by Odysseus;\nand the two, amazed, went straight toward them, when they saw them.\nAnd the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, recognized\nthe dear son of Melaneus, the famous Amphimedon;\nfor he had been his host, living in a house in Ithaca.\nThe soul of the son of Atreus spoke to him first:\nAmphimedon, what happened to you that you went down into the dark earth,\nall of you chosen men and of the same age? Not otherwise\nwould one, choosing, pick out the best men in a city.\nWas it Poseidon who subdued you in your ships,\nraising painful winds and long waves?\nOr did hostile men harm you on land,\nwhile you were cutting off cattle or fine flocks of sheep,\nor fighting for a city and for women?\nTell me, who ask; for I claim to be your host.\nDo you not remember when I came there to your house,\nurging Odysseus, with godlike Menelaus,\nto follow with me to Ilion in the well-benched ships?\nAnd in a whole month we crossed the whole wide sea,\nwith difficulty persuading Odysseus, the sacker of cities.\nThen the soul of Amphimedon answered him:\nMost glorious son of Atreus, lord of men Agamemnon,\nI remember all this, god-nurtured one, as you say;\nand I will tell you everything very well and accurately,\nthe evil end of our death, how it happened.\nWe wooed the wife of Odysseus, who was long gone;\nand she neither refused the hateful marriage nor completed it,\nplotting death and black doom for us,\nbut she thought of this other trick in her mind:\nshe set up a great loom in the hall and wove,\nfine and large; and at once she said to us:\nMy young suitors, since noble Odysseus is dead,\nwait, eager as you are for my marriage, until I finish\nthis robe, so that the thread I have spun is not wasted,\na burial garment for the hero Laertes, against the time when\nthe ruinous doom of death that brings long grief lays him low,\nlest one of the Achaean women in the land blame me,\nif he lies without a shroud, though he has won much wealth.\nSo she spoke, and our proud hearts were persuaded.\nThen by day she wove the great loom,\nand at night she undid it, after setting the torches beside her.\nSo for three years she hid it by trickery and persuaded the Achaeans;\nbut when the fourth year came and the seasons arrived,\nas the months waned and many days were completed,\nthen at last one of the women told, who knew it clearly,\nand we found her undoing the splendid web.\nSo she finished it, though unwilling, under compulsion.\nWhen she showed the robe, having woven the great web,\nafter washing it, like the sun or the moon,\nthen at last some evil spirit brought Odysseus\nto the edge of the field, where the swineherd had his home.\nThere came the dear son of godlike Odysseus,\ncoming from sandy Pylos in a black ship;\nand the two, having prepared evil death for the suitors,\ncame to the famous city, and Odysseus indeed\ncame later, but Telemachus led the way in front.\nAnd the swineherd led him, wearing evil clothes on his body,\nlike a wretched beggar and an old man,\nleaning on a staff; and he wore wretched clothes on his body;\nnor could any of us recognize who he was,\nappearing suddenly, not even those who were older,\nbut we reviled him with evil words and with throws.\nBut he for a while endured in his own hall\nbeing struck and reviled with an enduring heart;\nbut when the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus roused him,\nwith Telemachus he lifted the very beautiful armor\nand put it in the storeroom and locked the doors,\nbut he urged his wife, with her many wiles,\nto set the bow and the gray iron before the suitors,\nfor us ill-fated ones, a contest and the beginning of slaughter.\nNor could any of us string the string of the mighty bow,\nfor we were far too weak.\nBut when the great bow came into Odysseus's hands,\nthen we all called out with words\nthat the bow should not be given, however much he might say;\nbut Telemachus alone urged him and commanded it.\nAnd the much-enduring, noble Odysseus took it in his hand,\nand easily strung the bow, and shot through the iron,\nand he stood, going to the threshold, and poured out swift arrows,\nlooking terribly around, and he struck Antinous the king.\nAnd after that he kept shooting painful arrows at the others,\naiming straight at them; and they fell in heaps.\nAnd it was clear that some god was their helper;\nfor at once, following through the house with their own fury,\nthey kept killing, striking on every side, and a shameful groaning rose from them\nas their heads were struck, and the whole floor flowed with blood.\nSo we perished, Agamemnon, and even now\nour bodies lie uncared for in the halls of Odysseus;\nfor our friends in each man's house do not yet know,\nwho might wash the black gore from the wounds\nand lay us out and mourn; for that is the honor of the dead.\nThen the soul of the son of Atreus answered him:\nBlessed son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus,\nsurely with great virtue you won your wife.\nHow good was the mind of blameless Penelope,\nthe daughter of Icarius; how well she remembered Odysseus,\nher wedded husband; so her fame will never perish\nfor her virtue, and the immortals will make a song\nfor men on earth, a pleasing one, for wise Penelope,\nnot like the daughter of Tyndareus, who planned evil deeds,\nwho killed her wedded husband, and a hateful song\nwill be among men, and she gives a harsh reputation\nto women, even to one who is virtuous.\nSo these two spoke such things to one another,\nstanding in the house of Hades, beneath the hiding places of the earth;\nbut the others, when they had gone down from the city, quickly came to the field,\nthe fair farm of Laertes, built by him, which once\nLaertes himself had acquired, when he had toiled very much.\nThere was his house, and a hut ran around it on every side,\nin which the necessary slaves ate and sat and slept,\nwho worked for him with affection.\nAnd in it was a Sicilian old woman, who cared for the old man\ncarefully in the field, away from the city.\nThere Odysseus spoke a word to his slaves and his son:\nYou now go inside the well-built house,\nand sacrifice at once the best of the pigs for the meal;\nbut I will test my father,\nwhether he will recognize me and notice me with his eyes,\nor will not know me, since I have been away a long time.\nSo saying, he gave battle gear to the slaves.\nThey then went quickly to the house, but Odysseus\nwent near the fruitful orchard, testing him.\nHe did not find Dolius, going down into the great garden,\nnor any of the slaves nor of the sons; but they\nhad gone to gather stones for the orchard wall,\nand the old man was leading the way for them.\nBut he found his father alone in the well-built orchard,\ndigging around a plant; and he wore a filthy tunic,\npatched and shameful, and around his shins\nhe had bound stitched oxhide greaves, guarding against scratches,\nand gloves on his hands because of the briars; and above\nhe had a goatskin cap on his head, adding to his grief.\nAnd when the much-enduring, noble Odysseus saw him\nworn by old age, and having great grief in his heart,\nhe stood beneath a tall pear tree and shed a tear.\nAnd he pondered then in his mind and heart\nwhether to kiss and embrace his father, and tell him\neverything, how he had come and reached his native land,\nor first to question him and test him in everything.\nAnd as he thought, this seemed to him the better way,\nfirst to test him with mocking words.\nThinking this, the noble Odysseus went straight to him.\nIndeed the old man was bending his head, digging around a plant;\nand standing beside him, his splendid son spoke to him:\nOld man, it is not lack of skill that keeps you from tending\nthe orchard, but your care is good, and in no way is\nany plant, or fig tree, or vine, or olive,\nor pear, or garden bed, without care in the garden.\nBut I will tell you another thing, and do not put anger in your heart:\nyour own care is not good, but at the same time\nyou have wretched old age, and you are squalid and shamefully dressed.\nIt is not because of idleness that your master does not care for you,\nnor does it suit you at all to be seen\nas a slave in form and size; for you look like a kingly man.\nYou look like such a one, when he has bathed and eaten,\nto sleep softly; for that is the custom for old men.\nBut come, tell me this and tell it accurately,\nwhose slave are you among men? Whose orchard do you tend?\nAnd tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well,\nwhether we have truly come to this Ithaca, as a man told me,\nthis man whom I just met as I was coming here,\nnot very sound of mind, since he did not dare\nto tell me everything or listen to my word, as I asked\nabout my guest, whether he still lives and is\nor has already died and is in the house of Hades.\nFor I will tell you, and do you understand and listen to me:\nI once entertained a man in my dear native land\nwhen he came to my house, and never yet had any other mortal\nof far-off guest-friends come to my house as a friend;\nand he claimed to be of the race of Ithaca, and he said\nthat Laertes, son of Arceisius, was his father.\nI led him to my house and entertained him well,\nkindly, since there were many things in the house,\nand I gave him guest gifts, as was fitting.\nOf well-made gold I gave him seven talents,\nand I gave him a mixing bowl all of silver, flowered,\nand twelve single cloaks, and as many rugs,\nand as many fine sheets, and as many tunics besides,\nand besides that, women, knowing blameless work,\nfour, beautiful, whom he himself wished to choose.\nThen his father answered him, shedding a tear:\nStranger, you have indeed come to the land you ask about,\nbut insolent and reckless men hold it;\nand these gifts you gave for nothing, giving countless things;\nfor if you had found him alive in the land of Ithaca,\nhe would have sent you away, having repaid you well with gifts\nand good hospitality; for that is the right thing, for whoever gives first.\nBut come, tell me this and tell it accurately,\nhow many years is it since you entertained that man,\nthat unfortunate guest of yours, my son, if ever he was,\nill-fated? Whom somewhere far from friends and native land\neither fish in the sea have eaten, or on the land\nhe became prey for beasts and birds; nor did his mother\nmourn him and lay him out, nor his father, we who bore him;\nnor did his richly dowered wife, wise Penelope,\nwail over her husband on the bed, as was fitting,\nclosing his eyes; for that is the honor of the dead.\nAnd tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well:\nwho are you among men, and where from? Where is your city and your parents?\nWhere does your swift ship stand, which brought you here,\nand your godlike comrades? Or have you come as a trader\non another's ship, and they disembarked and went away?\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nThen I will tell you everything very accurately.\nI am from Alybas, where I live in famous halls,\nthe son of Apheidas, son of lord Polypemon;\nand my name is Eperitus; but a god\ndrove me astray from Sicania to come here unwilling;\nand this ship of mine stands at the field away from the city.\nAnd for Odysseus this is now the fifth year,\nsince he went away from there and left my country,\nill-fated; and surely his birds were good as he went,\non the right, and rejoicing in them I sent him away,\nand he rejoiced as he went; and our hearts still hoped\nto meet in hospitality and give glorious gifts.\nSo he spoke, and a black cloud of grief covered him;\nand with both hands he took up the dark dust\nand poured it over his gray head, groaning thickly.\nAnd his spirit was stirred, and up through his nostrils\nthe sharp fury rushed, as he looked at his dear father.\nAnd he kissed him and clung to him, springing upon him, and said:\nThat man is here, I myself, father, whom you seek;\nI have come in the twentieth year to my native land.\nBut stop weeping and lamenting and tearful groaning.\nFor I will tell you; and it is very necessary to hurry anyway:\nI have killed the suitors in our halls,\navenging their painful outrage and their evil deeds.\nThen Laertes answered him and said:\nIf indeed you have come here as Odysseus, my son,\ntell me now some manifest sign, so that I may believe it.\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nFirst, this scar, look at it with your eyes,\nwhich the boar struck me with its white tusk in Parnassus\nwhen I went there; but you and my lady mother sent me\nto my father Autolycus, my mother's dear father, so that I might receive\nthe gifts which he promised and pledged to me when he came here.\nBut come, I will tell you also about the trees in the well-built orchard,\nwhich you once gave me, and I asked you for each one,\nwhen I was a child, following you in the garden; and through them\nwe walked, and you named and told me each one.\nYou gave me thirteen pear trees and ten apple trees,\nand forty fig trees; and you named the rows\nyou would give, fifty of them, and each one was\nof varied grapes; and there are grapes of all kinds on them —\nwhen the seasons of Zeus come on heavily from above.\nSo he spoke, and his knees and dear heart were loosed,\nas he recognized the signs which Odysseus told him securely.\nAnd he threw his arms around his dear son; and to himself\nmuch-enduring, noble Odysseus caught him as he fainted.\nBut when he revived and his spirit was gathered into his breast,\nagain he answered him with words and said:\nFather Zeus, surely the gods are still on high Olympus,\nif truly the suitors have paid for their reckless outrage.\nBut now I greatly fear in my heart that soon all the Ithacans\nwill come here, and the news\nthey send everywhere to the cities of the Cephallenians.\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nTake heart, do not let these things weigh on your heart.\nBut let us go to the house, which lies near the orchard;\nand there I sent Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd\nahead, so that they might prepare dinner as quickly as possible.\nSo speaking, the two went to the fair house.\nAnd when they came to the well-built house,\nthey found Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd\ncarving much meat and mixing the flaming wine.\nMeanwhile, for great-hearted Laertes in his own house\nthe Sicilian handmaid bathed him and anointed him with oil,\nand threw a fair cloak around him; and Athena\nstanding near made the shepherd of the people grow in limb,\nand made him greater and stouter to look at than before.\nHe came out of the bath; and his dear son marveled at him,\nwhen he saw him looking like the immortal gods;\nand he spoke to him and addressed him with winged words:\nFather, surely one of the ever-living gods\nhas made you better in form and stature to look at.\nThen wise Laertes answered him and said:\nIf only, father Zeus and Athena and Apollo,\nas when I took Nericus, the well-built citadel,\nthe headland of the mainland, ruling over the Cephallenians,\nsuch as I was then, I were in our house yesterday,\nwith weapons on my shoulders, to stand by and defend\nagainst the suitors; then I would have loosed their knees\nfor many in the halls, and you would have rejoiced in your heart within.\nSo these two spoke such things to one another.\nBut when they had stopped working and prepared the feast,\nthey sat down in order on the benches and chairs;\nthen they set to the meal, and close at hand\ncame the old man Dolius, and with him the sons of the old man,\nwearied from their work, since she had come forth and called them,\nthe Sicilian old woman, who nourished them and cared for\nthe old man carefully, when old age had seized him.\nAnd when they saw Odysseus and recognized him in their hearts,\nthey stood in the halls amazed; and Odysseus\naddressed them, speaking to them with gentle words:\nOld man, sit down to the meal, and forget your amazement;\nfor we have long been waiting in the halls, eager\nto set to the food, always waiting for you.\nSo he spoke, and Dolius went straight to him with both\nhands outstretched, and Odysseus took his hand and kissed his wrist,\nand spoke to him, addressing him with winged words:\nDear friend, since you have returned, when we longed for it greatly\nand no longer expected it—and the gods themselves brought you up—\nwelcome, and rejoice greatly, and may the gods give you prosperity.\nAnd tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well,\nwhether wise Penelope already knows clearly\nthat you have returned here, or should we send a messenger?\nThen resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:\nOld man, she already knows; why must you trouble yourself with this?\nSo he spoke, and he sat down again on a well-polished chair.\nAnd likewise the sons of Dolius around the famous Odysseus\ndid him honor with words and clung to his hands,\nand in order they sat down beside Dolius, their father.\nSo these were busy about the meal in the halls;\nand Rumor went quickly everywhere through the city as a messenger,\ntelling of the hateful death and doom of the suitors.\nAnd they, hearing it, came together each from another place\nwith wailing and groaning before the house of Odysseus,\nand they carried the dead out of the house, and each buried them,\nand those from other cities they sent each to his own home,\nputting them on swift ships for the fishermen to carry;\nand they themselves went in a body to the assembly, grieved at heart.\nBut when they had gathered and come together,\nEupithes stood up among them and said:\nfor in his heart lay unforgettable grief for his son,\nAntinous, whom noble Odysseus had killed first;\nweeping for him he spoke to them and said:\nFriends, surely this man has devised a great deed against the Achaeans;\nthose whom he led with his ships, many and brave,\nhe destroyed the hollow ships and destroyed the men;\nand those who came he killed, the best of the Cephallenians.\nBut come, before this man quickly reaches Pylos\nor divine Elis, where the Epeians rule,\nlet us go; or even afterwards we will always be downcast;\nfor this is a disgrace even for those to come to hear of,\nif indeed we do not avenge the murderers of our sons and brothers.\nTo me at least it would not be pleasant in my heart\nto live, but may I die as quickly as possible and be among the dead.\nBut let us go, lest those men cross over first.\nSo he spoke, weeping, and pity seized all the Achaeans.\nAnd close to them came Medon and the divine bard\nfrom the halls of Odysseus, when sleep had released them,\nand they stood in the middle; and amazement seized each man.\nAnd Medon, who knew wise things, spoke among them:\nHear me now, Ithacans; for Odysseus did not\ncontrive these deeds against the will of the immortal gods;\nI myself saw an immortal god, who stood\nnear Odysseus and was like Mentor in everything.\nAnd the immortal god at one moment appeared before\nOdysseus, encouraging him, and at another roused the suitors\nand rushed through the hall; and they fell in heaps.\nSo he spoke, and pale fear seized them all.\nAnd the old hero Halitherses spoke among them,\nson of Mastor; for he alone saw before and behind;\nhe, thinking kindly, spoke to them and said:\nHear me now, Ithacans, whatever I say:\nthrough your own wickedness, friends, these deeds have come about;\nfor you did not obey me, nor Mentor, shepherd of the people,\nto stop your sons from their folly,\nwho did a great deed in their evil recklessness,\nwasting the possessions and dishonoring the wife\nof a noble man; and they thought he would not return.\nAnd now let it be so. Obey me as I speak:\nlet us not go, lest someone find added evil.\nSo he spoke, and they jumped up with a great cry,\nmore than half of them; but the others stayed together there;\nfor the word did not please them in their hearts, but they obeyed\nEupithes; and at once they rushed to their weapons.\nBut when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze,\nthey gathered together before the broad-wayed city.\nAnd Eupithes led them in their folly;\nand he said he would avenge the murder of his son, and he was not\nto return back, but to meet his doom there.\nBut Athena spoke to Zeus, son of Cronus:\nOur father, son of Cronus, highest of rulers,\ntell me, who ask you, what does your mind hide within?\nWill you further prepare evil war and dread battle,\nor will you put friendship between the two sides?\nThen cloud-gathering Zeus answered her and said:\nMy child, why do you ask and question me about this?\nDid you not yourself plan this design,\nthat Odysseus would return and punish those men?\nDo as you wish; and I will tell you what is fitting.\nSince noble Odysseus has punished the suitors,\nlet them cut faithful oaths, and let him be king forever,\nand we in turn for the murder of their sons and brothers\nlet us make a forgetting; and let them love one another\nas before, and let there be wealth and peace in abundance.\nSo saying, he urged Athena, who was eager already,\nand she darted down from the peaks of Olympus.\nBut when they had satisfied their desire for honey-sweet food,\nmuch-enduring, noble Odysseus began the words among them:\nLet someone go out and see that they are not near, coming on.\nSo he spoke; and the son of Dolius went out, as he commanded;\nhe stood, coming to the threshold, and saw them all near;\nand at once he spoke winged words to Odysseus:\nThese are near; but let us arm ourselves more quickly.\nSo he spoke, and they sprang up and put on their armor,\nfour around Odysseus, and six the sons of Dolius;\nand Laertes and Dolius also put on their armor,\ngray though they were, but warriors by necessity.\nBut when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze,\nthey opened the doors and went out, and Odysseus led.\nAnd close to them came the daughter of Zeus, Athena,\nlike Mentor in form and in voice.\nAnd much-enduring, noble Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her;\nand at once he spoke to Telemachus, his dear son:\nTelemachus, you will now know this yourself when you go into it,\nwhere men fight and the best are distinguished,\nnot to shame the race of your fathers, who before now\nhave been distinguished in courage and manhood in all the world.\nThen wise Telemachus answered him and said:\nYou will see, if you wish, dear father, that with this spirit\nI will in no way shame your race, as you say.\nSo he spoke, and Laertes rejoiced and spoke a word:\nWhat day is this for me, dear gods? Surely I rejoice greatly;\nmy son and my son's son have a contest over valor.\nAnd standing beside him, bright-eyed Athena spoke:\nSon of Arceisius, by far the dearest of all my comrades,\npray to the bright-eyed maiden and to father Zeus,\nand at once, brandishing it, send forth the long-shadowing spear.\nSo she spoke, and Pallas Athena breathed great strength into him;\nand when he had prayed to the daughter of great Zeus,\nat once, brandishing it, he sent forth the long-shadowing spear,\nand struck Eupithes through the bronze-cheeked helmet.\nAnd it did not keep out the spear, but the bronze went right through,\nand he fell with a thud, and his armor clattered upon him.\nAnd Odysseus and his splendid son fell upon the front ranks,\nand struck with swords and two-edged spears.\nAnd now they would have destroyed them all and made them not to return,\nhad not Athena, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus,\ncried out with her voice, and held back all the people.\nHold back from painful war, Ithacans,\nso that you may be separated quickly without bloodshed.\nSo spoke Athena, and pale fear seized them;\nand in their fear the weapons flew from their hands,\nand all fell to the ground, at the voice of the goddess speaking;\nand they turned toward the city, longing for life.\nAnd much-enduring, noble Odysseus shouted terribly,\nand gathered himself and swooped like an eagle of high flight.\nAnd then the son of Cronus loosed a smoking thunderbolt,\nand it fell in front of the bright-eyed daughter of the mighty father.\nThen bright-eyed Athena spoke to Odysseus:\nZeus-born son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus,\nhold back, and cease from the strife of equal war,\nlest somehow the son of Cronus, wide-thundering Zeus, be angered at you.\nSo spoke Athena, and he obeyed, and rejoiced in his heart.\nAnd afterwards Pallas Athena set oaths between the two sides,\nthe daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus,\nlike Mentor in form and in voice.","download_url":"https://mouseia.org/api/works/odyssey/translations/trn_odyssey_plain.txt"}],"retex_markdown_url":"https://mouseia.org/api/works/odyssey/retex.md"}}