---
type: article
status: Published
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"
certainty: observed
source: "https://raw.githubusercontent.com/PerseusDL/canonical-greekLit/master/data/tlg0012/tlg001/odyssey.perseus-grc2.xml"
unknowns: none known
---
# The Odyssey

## Original

### Book 1

ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ
πλάγχθη, ἐπεὶ Τροίης ἱερὸν πτολίεθρον ἔπερσεν·
πολλῶν δʼ ἀνθρώπων ἴδεν ἄστεα καὶ νόον ἔγνω,
πολλὰ δʼ ὅ γʼ ἐν πόντῳ πάθεν ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμόν,
ἀρνύμενος ἥν τε ψυχὴν καὶ νόστον ἑταίρων.
ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς ἑτάρους ἐρρύσατο, ἱέμενός περ·
αὐτῶν γὰρ σφετέρῃσιν ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὄλοντο,
νήπιοι, οἳ κατὰ βοῦς Ὑπερίονος Ἠελίοιο
ἤσθιον· αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσιν ἀφείλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.
τῶν ἁμόθεν γε, θεά, θύγατερ Διός, εἰπὲ καὶ ἡμῖν.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες, ὅσοι φύγον αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον,
οἴκοι ἔσαν, πόλεμόν τε πεφευγότες ἠδὲ θάλασσαν·
τὸν δʼ οἶον νόστου κεχρημένον ἠδὲ γυναικὸς
νύμφη πότνιʼ ἔρυκε Καλυψὼ δῖα θεάων
ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἔτος ἦλθε περιπλομένων ἐνιαυτῶν,
τῷ οἱ ἐπεκλώσαντο θεοὶ οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι
εἰς Ἰθάκην, οὐδʼ ἔνθα πεφυγμένος ἦεν ἀέθλων
καὶ μετὰ οἷσι φίλοισι. θεοὶ δʼ ἐλέαιρον ἅπαντες
νόσφι Ποσειδάωνος· ὁ δʼ ἀσπερχὲς μενέαινεν
ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆι πάρος ἣν γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν Αἰθίοπας μετεκίαθε τηλόθʼ ἐόντας,
Αἰθίοπας τοὶ διχθὰ δεδαίαται, ἔσχατοι ἀνδρῶν,
οἱ μὲν δυσομένου Ὑπερίονος οἱ δʼ ἀνιόντος,
ἀντιόων ταύρων τε καὶ ἀρνειῶν ἑκατόμβης.
ἔνθʼ ὅ γʼ ἐτέρπετο δαιτὶ παρήμενος· οἱ δὲ δὴ ἄλλοι
Ζηνὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν Ὀλυμπίου ἁθρόοι ἦσαν.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε·
μνήσατο γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονος Αἰγίσθοιο,
τόν ῥʼ Ἀγαμεμνονίδης τηλεκλυτὸς ἔκτανʼ Ὀρέστης·
τοῦ ὅ γʼ ἐπιμνησθεὶς ἔπεʼ ἀθανάτοισι μετηύδα·
ὢ πόποι, οἷον δή νυ θεοὺς βροτοὶ αἰτιόωνται·
ἐξ ἡμέων γάρ φασι κάκʼ ἔμμεναι, οἱ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ
σφῇσιν ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὑπὲρ μόρον ἄλγεʼ ἔχουσιν,
ὡς καὶ νῦν Αἴγισθος ὑπὲρ μόρον Ἀτρεΐδαο
γῆμʼ ἄλοχον μνηστήν, τὸν δʼ ἔκτανε νοστήσαντα,
εἰδὼς αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον, ἐπεὶ πρό οἱ εἴπομεν ἡμεῖς,
Ἑρμείαν πέμψαντες, ἐύσκοπον ἀργεϊφόντην,
μήτʼ αὐτὸν κτείνειν μήτε μνάασθαι ἄκοιτιν·
ἐκ γὰρ Ὀρέσταο τίσις ἔσσεται Ἀτρεΐδαο,
ὁππότʼ ἂν ἡβήσῃ τε καὶ ἧς ἱμείρεται αἴης.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ Ἑρμείας, ἀλλʼ οὐ φρένας Αἰγίσθοιο
πεῖθʼ ἀγαθὰ φρονέων· νῦν δʼ ἁθρόα πάντʼ ἀπέτισεν.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
ὦ πάτερ ἡμέτερε Κρονίδη, ὕπατε κρειόντων,
καὶ λίην κεῖνός γε ἐοικότι κεῖται ὀλέθρῳ·
ὡς ἀπόλοιτο καὶ ἄλλος, ὅτις τοιαῦτά γε ῥέζοι·
ἀλλά μοι ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆι δαΐφρονι δαίεται ἦτορ,
δυσμόρῳ, ὃς δὴ δηθὰ φίλων ἄπο πήματα πάσχει
νήσῳ ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ, ὅθι τʼ ὀμφαλός ἐστι θαλάσσης.
νῆσος δενδρήεσσα, θεὰ δʼ ἐν δώματα ναίει,
Ἄτλαντος θυγάτηρ ὀλοόφρονος, ὅς τε θαλάσσης
πάσης βένθεα οἶδεν, ἔχει δέ τε κίονας αὐτὸς
μακράς, αἳ γαῖάν τε καὶ οὐρανὸν ἀμφὶς ἔχουσιν.
τοῦ θυγάτηρ δύστηνον ὀδυρόμενον κατερύκει,
αἰεὶ δὲ μαλακοῖσι καὶ αἱμυλίοισι λόγοισιν
θέλγει, ὅπως Ἰθάκης ἐπιλήσεται· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἱέμενος καὶ καπνὸν ἀποθρῴσκοντα νοῆσαι
ἧς γαίης, θανέειν ἱμείρεται. οὐδέ νυ σοί περ
ἐντρέπεται φίλον ἦτορ, Ὀλύμπιε. οὔ νύ τʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
Ἀργείων παρὰ νηυσὶ χαρίζετο ἱερὰ ῥέζων
Τροίῃ ἐν εὐρείῃ; τί νύ οἱ τόσον ὠδύσαο, Ζεῦ;
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
τέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων.
πῶς ἂν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐγὼ θείοιο λαθοίμην,
ὃς περὶ μὲν νόον ἐστὶ βροτῶν, περὶ δʼ ἱρὰ θεοῖσιν
ἀθανάτοισιν ἔδωκε, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν;
ἀλλὰ Ποσειδάων γαιήοχος ἀσκελὲς αἰεὶ
Κύκλωπος κεχόλωται, ὃν ὀφθαλμοῦ ἀλάωσεν,
ἀντίθεον Πολύφημον, ὅου κράτος ἐστὶ μέγιστον
πᾶσιν Κυκλώπεσσι· Θόωσα δέ μιν τέκε νύμφη,
Φόρκυνος θυγάτηρ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο μέδοντος,
ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι Ποσειδάωνι μιγεῖσα.
ἐκ τοῦ δὴ Ὀδυσῆα Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων
οὔ τι κατακτείνει, πλάζει δʼ ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης.
ἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ, ἡμεῖς οἵδε περιφραζώμεθα πάντες
νόστον, ὅπως ἔλθῃσι· Ποσειδάων δὲ μεθήσει
ὃν χόλον· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι δυνήσεται ἀντία πάντων
ἀθανάτων ἀέκητι θεῶν ἐριδαινέμεν οἶος.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
ὦ πάτερ ἡμέτερε Κρονίδη, ὕπατε κρειόντων,
εἰ μὲν δὴ νῦν τοῦτο φίλον μακάρεσσι θεοῖσιν,
νοστῆσαι Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε,
Ἑρμείαν μὲν ἔπειτα διάκτορον ἀργεϊφόντην
νῆσον ἐς Ὠγυγίην ὀτρύνομεν, ὄφρα τάχιστα
νύμφῃ ἐυπλοκάμῳ εἴπῃ νημερτέα βουλήν,
νόστον Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος, ὥς κε νέηται·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν Ἰθάκηνδʼ ἐσελεύσομαι, ὄφρα οἱ υἱὸν
μᾶλλον ἐποτρύνω καί οἱ μένος ἐν φρεσὶ θείω,
εἰς ἀγορὴν καλέσαντα κάρη κομόωντας Ἀχαιοὺς
πᾶσι μνηστήρεσσιν ἀπειπέμεν, οἵ τέ οἱ αἰεὶ
μῆλʼ ἁδινὰ σφάζουσι καὶ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς.
πέμψω δʼ ἐς Σπάρτην τε καὶ ἐς Πύλον ἠμαθόεντα
νόστον πευσόμενον πατρὸς φίλου, ἤν που ἀκούσῃ,
ἠδʼ ἵνα μιν κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔχῃσιν.
ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
ἀμβρόσια χρύσεια, τά μιν φέρον ἠμὲν ἐφʼ ὑγρὴν
ἠδʼ ἐπʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν ἅμα πνοιῇς ἀνέμοιο·
εἵλετο δʼ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος, ἀκαχμένον ὀξέι χαλκῷ,
βριθὺ μέγα στιβαρόν, τῷ δάμνησι στίχας ἀνδρῶν
ἡρώων, τοῖσίν τε κοτέσσεται ὀβριμοπάτρη.
βῆ δὲ κατʼ Οὐλύμποιο καρήνων ἀίξασα,
στῆ δʼ Ἰθάκης ἐνὶ δήμῳ ἐπὶ προθύροις Ὀδυσῆος,
οὐδοῦ ἐπʼ αὐλείου· παλάμῃ δʼ ἔχε χάλκεον ἔγχος,
εἰδομένη ξείνῳ, Ταφίων ἡγήτορι Μέντῃ.
εὗρε δʼ ἄρα μνηστῆρας ἀγήνορας. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα
πεσσοῖσι προπάροιθε θυράων θυμὸν ἔτερπον
ἥμενοι ἐν ῥινοῖσι βοῶν, οὓς ἔκτανον αὐτοί·
κήρυκες δʼ αὐτοῖσι καὶ ὀτρηροὶ θεράποντες
οἱ μὲν οἶνον ἔμισγον ἐνὶ κρητῆρσι καὶ ὕδωρ,
οἱ δʼ αὖτε σπόγγοισι πολυτρήτοισι τραπέζας
νίζον καὶ πρότιθεν, τοὶ δὲ κρέα πολλὰ δατεῦντο.
τὴν δὲ πολὺ πρῶτος ἴδε Τηλέμαχος θεοειδής,
ἧστο γὰρ ἐν μνηστῆρσι φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ,
ὀσσόμενος πατέρʼ ἐσθλὸν ἐνὶ φρεσίν, εἴ ποθεν ἐλθὼν
μνηστήρων τῶν μὲν σκέδασιν κατὰ δώματα θείη,
τιμὴν δʼ αὐτὸς ἔχοι καὶ δώμασιν οἷσιν ἀνάσσοι.
τὰ φρονέων, μνηστῆρσι μεθήμενος, εἴσιδʼ Ἀθήνην.
βῆ δʼ ἰθὺς προθύροιο, νεμεσσήθη δʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
ξεῖνον δηθὰ θύρῃσιν ἐφεστάμεν· ἐγγύθι δὲ στὰς
χεῖρʼ ἕλε δεξιτερὴν καὶ ἐδέξατο χάλκεον ἔγχος,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
χαῖρε, ξεῖνε, παρʼ ἄμμι φιλήσεαι· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
δείπνου πασσάμενος μυθήσεαι ὅττεό σε χρή.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἡγεῖθʼ, ἡ δʼ ἕσπετο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.
οἱ δʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἔντοσθεν ἔσαν δόμου ὑψηλοῖο,
ἔγχος μέν ῥʼ ἔστησε φέρων πρὸς κίονα μακρὴν
δουροδόκης ἔντοσθεν ἐυξόου, ἔνθα περ ἄλλα
ἔγχεʼ Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος ἵστατο πολλά,
αὐτὴν δʼ ἐς θρόνον εἷσεν ἄγων, ὑπὸ λῖτα πετάσσας,
καλὸν δαιδάλεον· ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν.
πὰρ δʼ αὐτὸς κλισμὸν θέτο ποικίλον, ἔκτοθεν ἄλλων
μνηστήρων, μὴ ξεῖνος ἀνιηθεὶς ὀρυμαγδῷ
δείπνῳ ἁδήσειεν, ὑπερφιάλοισι μετελθών,
ἠδʼ ἵνα μιν περὶ πατρὸς ἀποιχομένοιο ἔροιτο.
χέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα
καλῇ χρυσείῃ, ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,
νίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.
σῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,
εἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων·
δαιτρὸς δὲ κρειῶν πίνακας παρέθηκεν ἀείρας
παντοίων, παρὰ δέ σφι τίθει χρύσεια κύπελλα·
κῆρυξ δʼ αὐτοῖσιν θάμʼ ἐπῴχετο οἰνοχοεύων.
ἐς δʼ ἦλθον μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἑξείης ἕζοντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε,
τοῖσι δὲ κήρυκες μὲν ὕδωρ ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἔχευαν,
σῖτον δὲ δμῳαὶ παρενήνεον ἐν κανέοισιν,
κοῦροι δὲ κρητῆρας ἐπεστέψαντο ποτοῖο.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο
μνηστῆρες, τοῖσιν μὲν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἄλλα μεμήλει,
μολπή τʼ ὀρχηστύς τε· τὰ γάρ τʼ ἀναθήματα δαιτός·
κῆρυξ δʼ ἐν χερσὶν κίθαριν περικαλλέα θῆκεν
Φημίῳ, ὅς ῥʼ ἤειδε παρὰ μνηστῆρσιν ἀνάγκῃ.
ἦ τοι ὁ φορμίζων ἀνεβάλλετο καλὸν ἀείδειν.
αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος προσέφη γλαυκῶπιν Ἀθήνην,
ἄγχι σχὼν κεφαλήν, ἵνα μὴ πευθοίαθʼ οἱ ἄλλοι·
ξεῖνε φίλʼ, ἦ καί μοι νεμεσήσεαι ὅττι κεν εἴπω;
τούτοισιν μὲν ταῦτα μέλει, κίθαρις καὶ ἀοιδή,
ῥεῖʼ, ἐπεὶ ἀλλότριον βίοτον νήποινον ἔδουσιν,
ἀνέρος, οὗ δή που λεύκʼ ὀστέα πύθεται ὄμβρῳ
κείμενʼ ἐπʼ ἠπείρου, ἢ εἰν ἁλὶ κῦμα κυλίνδει.
εἰ κεῖνόν γʼ Ἰθάκηνδε ἰδοίατο νοστήσαντα,
πάντες κʼ ἀρησαίατʼ ἐλαφρότεροι πόδας εἶναι
ἢ ἀφνειότεροι χρυσοῖό τε ἐσθῆτός τε.
νῦν δʼ ὁ μὲν ὣς ἀπόλωλε κακὸν μόρον, οὐδέ τις ἡμῖν
θαλπωρή, εἴ πέρ τις ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων
φῇσιν ἐλεύσεσθαι· τοῦ δʼ ὤλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον·
τίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;
ὁπποίης τʼ ἐπὶ νηὸς ἀφίκεο· πῶς δέ σε ναῦται
ἤγαγον εἰς Ἰθάκην; τίνες ἔμμεναι εὐχετόωντο;
οὐ μὲν γάρ τί σε πεζὸν ὀίομαι ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι.
καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐὺ εἰδῶ,
ἠὲ νέον μεθέπεις ἦ καὶ πατρώιός ἐσσι
ξεῖνος, ἐπεὶ πολλοὶ ἴσαν ἀνέρες ἡμέτερον δῶ
ἄλλοι, ἐπεὶ καὶ κεῖνος ἐπίστροφος ἦν ἀνθρώπων.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
Μέντης Ἀγχιάλοιο δαΐφρονος εὔχομαι εἶναι
υἱός, ἀτὰρ Ταφίοισι φιληρέτμοισιν ἀνάσσω.
νῦν δʼ ὧδε ξὺν νηὶ κατήλυθον ἠδʼ ἑτάροισιν
πλέων ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον ἐπʼ ἀλλοθρόους ἀνθρώπους,
ἐς Τεμέσην μετὰ χαλκόν, ἄγω δʼ αἴθωνα σίδηρον.
νηῦς δέ μοι ἥδʼ ἕστηκεν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ νόσφι πόληος,
ἐν λιμένι Ῥείθρῳ ὑπὸ Νηίῳ ὑλήεντι.
ξεῖνοι δʼ ἀλλήλων πατρώιοι εὐχόμεθʼ εἶναι
ἐξ ἀρχῆς, εἴ πέρ τε γέροντʼ εἴρηαι ἐπελθὼν
Λαέρτην ἥρωα, τὸν οὐκέτι φασὶ πόλινδε
ἔρχεσθʼ, ἀλλʼ ἀπάνευθεν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ πήματα πάσχειν
γρηὶ σὺν ἀμφιπόλῳ, ἥ οἱ βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε
παρτιθεῖ, εὖτʼ ἄν μιν κάματος κατὰ γυῖα λάβῃσιν
ἑρπύζοντʼ ἀνὰ γουνὸν ἀλωῆς οἰνοπέδοιο.
νῦν δʼ ἦλθον· δὴ γάρ μιν ἔφαντʼ ἐπιδήμιον εἶναι,
σὸν πατέρʼ· ἀλλά νυ τόν γε θεοὶ βλάπτουσι κελεύθου.
οὐ γάρ πω τέθνηκεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἀλλʼ ἔτι που ζωὸς κατερύκεται εὐρέι πόντῳ
νήσῳ ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ, χαλεποὶ δέ μιν ἄνδρες ἔχουσιν
ἄγριοι, οἵ που κεῖνον ἐρυκανόωσʼ ἀέκοντα.
αὐτὰρ νῦν τοι ἐγὼ μαντεύσομαι, ὡς ἐνὶ θυμῷ
ἀθάνατοι βάλλουσι καὶ ὡς τελέεσθαι ὀίω,
οὔτε τι μάντις ἐὼν οὔτʼ οἰωνῶν σάφα εἰδώς.
οὔ τοι ἔτι δηρόν γε φίλης ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης
ἔσσεται, οὐδʼ εἴ πέρ τε σιδήρεα δέσματʼ ἔχῃσιν·
φράσσεται ὥς κε νέηται, ἐπεὶ πολυμήχανός ἐστιν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
εἰ δὴ ἐξ αὐτοῖο τόσος πάϊς εἰς Ὀδυσῆος.
αἰνῶς μὲν κεφαλήν τε καὶ ὄμματα καλὰ ἔοικας
κείνῳ, ἐπεὶ θαμὰ τοῖον ἐμισγόμεθʼ ἀλλήλοισιν,
πρίν γε τὸν ἐς Τροίην ἀναβήμεναι, ἔνθα περ ἄλλοι
Ἀργείων οἱ ἄριστοι ἔβαν κοίλῃς ἐνὶ νηυσίν·
ἐκ τοῦ δʼ οὔτʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐγὼν ἴδον οὔτʼ ἔμʼ ἐκεῖνος.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
μήτηρ μέν τέ μέ φησι τοῦ ἔμμεναι, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε
οὐκ οἶδʼ· οὐ γάρ πώ τις ἑὸν γόνον αὐτὸς ἀνέγνω.
ὡς δὴ ἐγώ γʼ ὄφελον μάκαρός νύ τευ ἔμμεναι υἱὸς
ἀνέρος, ὃν κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖς ἔπι γῆρας ἔτετμε.
νῦν δʼ ὃς ἀποτμότατος γένετο θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων,
τοῦ μʼ ἔκ φασι γενέσθαι, ἐπεὶ σύ με τοῦτʼ ἐρεείνεις.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
οὐ μέν τοι γενεήν γε θεοὶ νώνυμνον ὀπίσσω
θῆκαν, ἐπεὶ σέ γε τοῖον ἐγείνατο Πηνελόπεια.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον·
τίς δαίς, τίς δὲ ὅμιλος ὅδʼ ἔπλετο; τίπτε δέ σε χρεώ;
εἰλαπίνη ἠὲ γάμος; ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἔρανος τάδε γʼ ἐστίν·
ὥς τέ μοι ὑβρίζοντες ὑπερφιάλως δοκέουσι
δαίνυσθαι κατὰ δῶμα. νεμεσσήσαιτό κεν ἀνὴρ
αἴσχεα πόλλʼ ὁρόων, ὅς τις πινυτός γε μετέλθοι.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ ἂρ δὴ ταῦτά μʼ ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς,
μέλλεν μέν ποτε οἶκος ὅδʼ ἀφνειὸς καὶ ἀμύμων
ἔμμεναι, ὄφρʼ ἔτι κεῖνος ἀνὴρ ἐπιδήμιος ἦεν·
νῦν δʼ ἑτέρως ἐβόλοντο θεοὶ κακὰ μητιόωντες,
οἳ κεῖνον μὲν ἄιστον ἐποίησαν περὶ πάντων
ἀνθρώπων, ἐπεὶ οὔ κε θανόντι περ ὧδʼ ἀκαχοίμην,
εἰ μετὰ οἷς ἑτάροισι δάμη Τρώων ἐνὶ δήμῳ,
ἠὲ φίλων ἐν χερσίν, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσεν.
τῷ κέν οἱ τύμβον μὲν ἐποίησαν Παναχαιοί,
ἠδέ κε καὶ ᾧ παιδὶ μέγα κλέος ἤρατʼ ὀπίσσω.
νῦν δέ μιν ἀκλειῶς ἅρπυιαι ἀνηρείψαντο·
οἴχετʼ ἄιστος ἄπυστος, ἐμοὶ δʼ ὀδύνας τε γόους τε
κάλλιπεν. οὐδέ τι κεῖνον ὀδυρόμενος στεναχίζω
οἶον, ἐπεί νύ μοι ἄλλα θεοὶ κακὰ κήδεʼ ἔτευξαν.
ὅσσοι γὰρ νήσοισιν ἐπικρατέουσιν ἄριστοι,
Δουλιχίῳ τε Σάμῃ τε καὶ ὑλήεντι Ζακύνθῳ,
ἠδʼ ὅσσοι κραναὴν Ἰθάκην κάτα κοιρανέουσιν,
τόσσοι μητέρʼ ἐμὴν μνῶνται, τρύχουσι δὲ οἶκον.
ἡ δʼ οὔτʼ ἀρνεῖται στυγερὸν γάμον οὔτε τελευτὴν
ποιῆσαι δύναται· τοὶ δὲ φθινύθουσιν ἔδοντες
οἶκον ἐμόν· τάχα δή με διαρραίσουσι καὶ αὐτόν.
τὸν δʼ ἐπαλαστήσασα προσηύδα Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ δὴ πολλὸν ἀποιχομένου Ὀδυσῆος
δεύῃ, ὅ κε μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφείη.
εἰ γὰρ νῦν ἐλθὼν δόμου ἐν πρώτῃσι θύρῃσι
σταίη, ἔχων πήληκα καὶ ἀσπίδα καὶ δύο δοῦρε,
τοῖος ἐὼν οἷόν μιν ἐγὼ τὰ πρῶτʼ ἐνόησα
οἴκῳ ἐν ἡμετέρῳ πίνοντά τε τερπόμενόν τε,
ἐξ Ἐφύρης ἀνιόντα παρʼ Ἴλου Μερμερίδαο—
ᾤχετο γὰρ καὶ κεῖσε θοῆς ἐπὶ νηὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς
φάρμακον ἀνδροφόνον διζήμενος, ὄφρα οἱ εἴη
ἰοὺς χρίεσθαι χαλκήρεας· ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν οὔ οἱ
δῶκεν, ἐπεί ῥα θεοὺς νεμεσίζετο αἰὲν ἐόντας,
ἀλλὰ πατήρ οἱ δῶκεν ἐμός· φιλέεσκε γὰρ αἰνῶς—
τοῖος ἐὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμιλήσειεν Ὀδυσσεύς·
πάντες κʼ ὠκύμοροί τε γενοίατο πικρόγαμοί τε.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ταῦτα θεῶν ἐν γούνασι κεῖται,
ἤ κεν νοστήσας ἀποτίσεται, ἦε καὶ οὐκί,
οἷσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι· σὲ δὲ φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα,
ὅππως κε μνηστῆρας ἀπώσεαι ἐκ μεγάροιο.
εἰ δʼ ἄγε νῦν ξυνίει καὶ ἐμῶν ἐμπάζεο μύθων·
αὔριον εἰς ἀγορὴν καλέσας ἥρωας Ἀχαιοὺς
μῦθον πέφραδε πᾶσι, θεοὶ δʼ ἐπὶ μάρτυροι ἔστων.
μνηστῆρας μὲν ἐπὶ σφέτερα σκίδνασθαι ἄνωχθι,
μητέρα δʼ, εἴ οἱ θυμὸς ἐφορμᾶται γαμέεσθαι,
ἂψ ἴτω ἐς μέγαρον πατρὸς μέγα δυναμένοιο·
οἱ δὲ γάμον τεύξουσι καὶ ἀρτυνέουσιν ἔεδνα
πολλὰ μάλʼ, ὅσσα ἔοικε φίλης ἐπὶ παιδὸς ἕπεσθαι.
σοὶ δʼ αὐτῷ πυκινῶς ὑποθήσομαι, αἴ κε πίθηαι·
νῆʼ ἄρσας ἐρέτῃσιν ἐείκοσιν, ἥ τις ἀρίστη,
ἔρχεο πευσόμενος πατρὸς δὴν οἰχομένοιο,
ἤν τίς τοι εἴπῃσι βροτῶν, ἢ ὄσσαν ἀκούσῃς
ἐκ Διός, ἥ τε μάλιστα φέρει κλέος ἀνθρώποισι.
πρῶτα μὲν ἐς Πύλον ἐλθὲ καὶ εἴρεο Νέστορα δῖον,
κεῖθεν δὲ Σπάρτηνδε παρὰ ξανθὸν Μενέλαον·
ὃς γὰρ δεύτατος ἦλθεν Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων.
εἰ μέν κεν πατρὸς βίοτον καὶ νόστον ἀκούσῃς,
ἦ τʼ ἂν τρυχόμενός περ ἔτι τλαίης ἐνιαυτόν·
εἰ δέ κε τεθνηῶτος ἀκούσῃς μηδʼ ἔτʼ ἐόντος,
νοστήσας δὴ ἔπειτα φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν
σῆμά τέ οἱ χεῦαι καὶ ἐπὶ κτέρεα κτερεΐξαι
πολλὰ μάλʼ, ὅσσα ἔοικε, καὶ ἀνέρι μητέρα δοῦναι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ ταῦτα τελευτήσῃς τε καὶ ἔρξῃς,
φράζεσθαι δὴ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμὸν
ὅππως κε μνηστῆρας ἐνὶ μεγάροισι τεοῖσι
κτείνῃς ἠὲ δόλῳ ἢ ἀμφαδόν· οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ
νηπιάας ὀχέειν, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τηλίκος ἐσσι.
ἢ οὐκ ἀίεις οἷον κλέος ἔλλαβε δῖος Ὀρέστης
πάντας ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους, ἐπεὶ ἔκτανε πατροφονῆα,
Αἴγισθον δολόμητιν, ὅ οἱ πατέρα κλυτὸν ἔκτα;
καὶ σύ, φίλος, μάλα γάρ σʼ ὁρόω καλόν τε μέγαν τε,
ἄλκιμος ἔσσʼ, ἵνα τίς σε καὶ ὀψιγόνων ἐὺ εἴπῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν κατελεύσομαι ἤδη
ἠδʼ ἑτάρους, οἵ πού με μάλʼ ἀσχαλόωσι μένοντες·
σοὶ δʼ αὐτῷ μελέτω, καὶ ἐμῶν ἐμπάζεο μύθων.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν ταῦτα φίλα φρονέων ἀγορεύεις,
ὥς τε πατὴρ ᾧ παιδί, καὶ οὔ ποτε λήσομαι αὐτῶν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἐπίμεινον, ἐπειγόμενός περ ὁδοῖο,
ὄφρα λοεσσάμενός τε τεταρπόμενός τε φίλον κῆρ,
δῶρον ἔχων ἐπὶ νῆα κίῃς, χαίρων ἐνὶ θυμῷ,
τιμῆεν, μάλα καλόν, ὅ τοι κειμήλιον ἔσται
ἐξ ἐμεῦ, οἷα φίλοι ξεῖνοι ξείνοισι διδοῦσι.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
μή μʼ ἔτι νῦν κατέρυκε, λιλαιόμενόν περ ὁδοῖο.
δῶρον δʼ ὅττι κέ μοι δοῦναι φίλον ἦτορ ἀνώγῃ,
αὖτις ἀνερχομένῳ δόμεναι οἶκόνδε φέρεσθαι,
καὶ μάλα καλὸν ἑλών· σοὶ δʼ ἄξιον ἔσται ἀμοιβῆς.
ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
ὄρνις δʼ ὣς ἀνόπαια διέπτατο· τῷ δʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
θῆκε μένος καὶ θάρσος, ὑπέμνησέν τέ ἑ πατρὸς
μᾶλλον ἔτʼ ἢ τὸ πάροιθεν. ὁ δὲ φρεσὶν ᾗσι νοήσας
θάμβησεν κατὰ θυμόν· ὀίσατο γὰρ θεὸν εἶναι.
αὐτίκα δὲ μνηστῆρας ἐπῴχετο ἰσόθεος φώς.
τοῖσι δʼ ἀοιδὸς ἄειδε περικλυτός, οἱ δὲ σιωπῇ
ἥατʼ ἀκούοντες· ὁ δʼ Ἀχαιῶν νόστον ἄειδε
λυγρόν, ὃν ἐκ Τροίης ἐπετείλατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.
τοῦ δʼ ὑπερωιόθεν φρεσὶ σύνθετο θέσπιν ἀοιδὴν
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
κλίμακα δʼ ὑψηλὴν κατεβήσετο οἷο δόμοιο,
οὐκ οἴη, ἅμα τῇ γε καὶ ἀμφίπολοι δύʼ ἕποντο.
ἡ δʼ ὅτε δὴ μνηστῆρας ἀφίκετο δῖα γυναικῶν,
στῆ ῥα παρὰ σταθμὸν τέγεος πύκα ποιητοῖο,
ἄντα παρειάων σχομένη λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα·
ἀμφίπολος δʼ ἄρα οἱ κεδνὴ ἑκάτερθε παρέστη.
δακρύσασα δʼ ἔπειτα προσηύδα θεῖον ἀοιδόν·
Φήμιε, πολλὰ γὰρ ἄλλα βροτῶν θελκτήρια οἶδας,
ἔργʼ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε, τά τε κλείουσιν ἀοιδοί·
τῶν ἕν γέ σφιν ἄειδε παρήμενος, οἱ δὲ σιωπῇ
οἶνον πινόντων· ταύτης δʼ ἀποπαύεʼ ἀοιδῆς
λυγρῆς, ἥ τέ μοι αἰεὶ ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλον κῆρ
τείρει, ἐπεί με μάλιστα καθίκετο πένθος ἄλαστον.
τοίην γὰρ κεφαλὴν ποθέω μεμνημένη αἰεί,
ἀνδρός, τοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ καθʼ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
μῆτερ ἐμή, τί τʼ ἄρα φθονέεις ἐρίηρον ἀοιδὸν
τέρπειν ὅππῃ οἱ νόος ὄρνυται; οὔ νύ τʼ ἀοιδοὶ
αἴτιοι, ἀλλά ποθι Ζεὺς αἴτιος, ὅς τε δίδωσιν
ἀνδράσιν ἀλφηστῇσιν, ὅπως ἐθέλῃσιν, ἑκάστῳ.
τούτῳ δʼ οὐ νέμεσις Δαναῶν κακὸν οἶτον ἀείδειν·
τὴν γὰρ ἀοιδὴν μᾶλλον ἐπικλείουσʼ ἄνθρωποι,
ἥ τις ἀκουόντεσσι νεωτάτη ἀμφιπέληται.
σοὶ δʼ ἐπιτολμάτω κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀκούειν·
οὐ γὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς οἶος ἀπώλεσε νόστιμον ἦμαρ
ἐν Τροίῃ, πολλοὶ δὲ καὶ ἄλλοι φῶτες ὄλοντο.
ἀλλʼ εἰς οἶκον ἰοῦσα τὰ σʼ αὐτῆς ἔργα κόμιζε,
ἱστόν τʼ ἠλακάτην τε, καὶ ἀμφιπόλοισι κέλευε
ἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι· μῦθος δʼ ἄνδρεσσι μελήσει
πᾶσι, μάλιστα δʼ ἐμοί· τοῦ γὰρ κράτος ἔστʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
ἡ μὲν θαμβήσασα πάλιν οἶκόνδε βεβήκει·
παιδὸς γὰρ μῦθον πεπνυμένον ἔνθετο θυμῷ.
ἐς δʼ ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶ
κλαῖεν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα φίλον πόσιν, ὄφρα οἱ ὕπνον
ἡδὺν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι βάλε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
μνηστῆρες δʼ ὁμάδησαν ἀνὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα,
πάντες δʼ ἠρήσαντο παραὶ λεχέεσσι κλιθῆναι.
τοῖσι δὲ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἤρχετο μύθων·
μητρὸς ἐμῆς μνηστῆρες ὑπέρβιον ὕβριν ἔχοντες,
νῦν μὲν δαινύμενοι τερπώμεθα, μηδὲ βοητὺς
ἔστω, ἐπεὶ τόδε καλὸν ἀκουέμεν ἐστὶν ἀοιδοῦ
τοιοῦδʼ οἷος ὅδʼ ἐστί, θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιος αὐδήν.
ἠῶθεν δʼ ἀγορήνδε καθεζώμεσθα κιόντες
πάντες, ἵνʼ ὕμιν μῦθον ἀπηλεγέως ἀποείπω,
ἐξιέναι μεγάρων· ἄλλας δʼ ἀλεγύνετε δαῖτας,
ὑμὰ κτήματʼ ἔδοντες, ἀμειβόμενοι κατὰ οἴκους.
εἰ δʼ ὕμιν δοκέει τόδε λωίτερον καὶ ἄμεινον
ἔμμεναι, ἀνδρὸς ἑνὸς βίοτον νήποινον ὀλέσθαι,
κείρετʼ· ἐγὼ δὲ θεοὺς ἐπιβώσομαι αἰὲν ἐόντας,
αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς δῷσι παλίντιτα ἔργα γενέσθαι·
νήποινοί κεν ἔπειτα δόμων ἔντοσθεν ὄλοισθε.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὀδὰξ ἐν χείλεσι φύντες
Τηλέμαχον θαύμαζον, ὃ θαρσαλέως ἀγόρευεν.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἦ μάλα δή σε διδάσκουσιν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ
ὑψαγόρην τʼ ἔμεναι καὶ θαρσαλέως ἀγορεύειν·
μὴ σέ γʼ ἐν ἀμφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ βασιλῆα Κρονίων
ποιήσειεν, ὅ τοι γενεῇ πατρώιόν ἐστιν.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀντίνοʼ, ἦ καί μοι νεμεσήσεαι ὅττι κεν εἴπω;
καί κεν τοῦτʼ ἐθέλοιμι Διός γε διδόντος ἀρέσθαι.
ἦ φῂς τοῦτο κάκιστον ἐν ἀνθρώποισι τετύχθαι;
οὐ μὲν γάρ τι κακὸν βασιλευέμεν· αἶψά τέ οἱ δῶ
ἀφνειὸν πέλεται καὶ τιμηέστερος αὐτός.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι βασιλῆες Ἀχαιῶν εἰσὶ καὶ ἄλλοι
πολλοὶ ἐν ἀμφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ, νέοι ἠδὲ παλαιοί,
τῶν κέν τις τόδʼ ἔχῃσιν, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν οἴκοιο ἄναξ ἔσομʼ ἡμετέροιο
καὶ δμώων, οὕς μοι ληίσσατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύμαχος Πολύβου πάϊς ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι ταῦτα θεῶν ἐν γούνασι κεῖται,
ὅς τις ἐν ἀμφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ βασιλεύσει Ἀχαιῶν·
κτήματα δʼ αὐτὸς ἔχοις καὶ δώμασιν οἷσιν ἀνάσσοις.
μὴ γὰρ ὅ γʼ ἔλθοι ἀνὴρ ὅς τίς σʼ ἀέκοντα βίηφιν
κτήματʼ ἀπορραίσει, Ἰθάκης ἔτι ναιετοώσης.
ἀλλʼ ἐθέλω σε, φέριστε, περὶ ξείνοιο ἐρέσθαι,
ὁππόθεν οὗτος ἀνήρ, ποίης δʼ ἐξ εὔχεται εἶναι
γαίης, ποῦ δέ νύ οἱ γενεὴ καὶ πατρὶς ἄρουρα.
ἠέ τινʼ ἀγγελίην πατρὸς φέρει ἐρχομένοιο,
ἦ ἑὸν αὐτοῦ χρεῖος ἐελδόμενος τόδʼ ἱκάνει;
οἷον ἀναΐξας ἄφαρ οἴχεται, οὐδʼ ὑπέμεινε
γνώμεναι· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι κακῷ εἰς ὦπα ἐῴκει.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Εὐρύμαχʼ, ἦ τοι νόστος ἀπώλετο πατρὸς ἐμοῖο·
οὔτʼ οὖν ἀγγελίῃ ἔτι πείθομαι, εἴ ποθεν ἔλθοι,
οὔτε θεοπροπίης ἐμπάζομαι, ἥν τινα μήτηρ
ἐς μέγαρον καλέσασα θεοπρόπον ἐξερέηται.
ξεῖνος δʼ οὗτος ἐμὸς πατρώιος ἐκ Τάφου ἐστίν,
Μέντης δʼ Ἀγχιάλοιο δαΐφρονος εὔχεται εἶναι
υἱός, ἀτὰρ Ταφίοισι φιληρέτμοισιν ἀνάσσει.
ὣς φάτο Τηλέμαχος, φρεσὶ δʼ ἀθανάτην θεὸν ἔγνω.
οἱ δʼ εἰς ὀρχηστύν τε καὶ ἱμερόεσσαν ἀοιδὴν
τρεψάμενοι τέρποντο, μένον δʼ ἐπὶ ἕσπερον ἐλθεῖν.
τοῖσι δὲ τερπομένοισι μέλας ἐπὶ ἕσπερος ἦλθε·
δὴ τότε κακκείοντες ἔβαν οἶκόνδε ἕκαστος.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ, ὅθι οἱ θάλαμος περικαλλέος αὐλῆς
ὑψηλὸς δέδμητο περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,
ἔνθʼ ἔβη εἰς εὐνὴν πολλὰ φρεσὶ μερμηρίζων.
τῷ δʼ ἄρʼ ἅμʼ αἰθομένας δαΐδας φέρε κεδνὰ ἰδυῖα
Εὐρύκλειʼ, Ὦπος θυγάτηρ Πεισηνορίδαο,
τήν ποτε Λαέρτης πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν
πρωθήβην ἔτʼ ἐοῦσαν, ἐεικοσάβοια δʼ ἔδωκεν,
ἶσα δέ μιν κεδνῇ ἀλόχῳ τίεν ἐν μεγάροισιν,
εὐνῇ δʼ οὔ ποτʼ ἔμικτο, χόλον δʼ ἀλέεινε γυναικός·
ἥ οἱ ἅμʼ αἰθομένας δαΐδας φέρε, καί ἑ μάλιστα
δμῳάων φιλέεσκε, καὶ ἔτρεφε τυτθὸν ἐόντα.
ὤιξεν δὲ θύρας θαλάμου πύκα ποιητοῖο,
ἕζετο δʼ ἐν λέκτρῳ, μαλακὸν δʼ ἔκδυνε χιτῶνα·
καὶ τὸν μὲν γραίης πυκιμηδέος ἔμβαλε χερσίν.
ἡ μὲν τὸν πτύξασα καὶ ἀσκήσασα χιτῶνα,
πασσάλῳ ἀγκρεμάσασα παρὰ τρητοῖσι λέχεσσι
βῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο, θύρην δʼ ἐπέρυσσε κορώνῃ
ἀργυρέῃ, ἐπὶ δὲ κληῖδʼ ἐτάνυσσεν ἱμάντι.
ἔνθʼ ὅ γε παννύχιος, κεκαλυμμένος οἰὸς ἀώτῳ,
βούλευε φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ὁδὸν τὴν πέφραδʼ Ἀθήνη.

### Book 2

ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
ὤρνυτʼ ἄρʼ ἐξ εὐνῆφιν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱὸς
εἵματα ἑσσάμενος, περὶ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτʼ ὤμῳ,
ποσσὶ δʼ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο θεῷ ἐναλίγκιος ἄντην.
αἶψα δὲ κηρύκεσσι λιγυφθόγγοισι κέλευσε
κηρύσσειν ἀγορήνδε κάρη κομόωντας Ἀχαιούς.
οἱ μὲν ἐκήρυσσον, τοὶ δʼ ἠγείροντο μάλʼ ὦκα.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἤγερθεν ὁμηγερέες τʼ ἐγένοντο,
βῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν εἰς ἀγορήν, παλάμῃ δʼ ἔχε χάλκεον ἔγχος,
οὐκ οἶος, ἅμα τῷ γε δύω κύνες ἀργοὶ ἕποντο.
θεσπεσίην δʼ ἄρα τῷ γε χάριν κατέχευεν Ἀθήνη.
τὸν δʼ ἄρα πάντες λαοὶ ἐπερχόμενον θηεῦντο·
ἕζετο δʼ ἐν πατρὸς θώκῳ, εἶξαν δὲ γέροντες.
τοῖσι δʼ ἔπειθʼ ἥρως Αἰγύπτιος ἦρχʼ ἀγορεύειν,
ὃς δὴ γήραϊ κυφὸς ἔην καὶ μυρία ᾔδη.
καὶ γὰρ τοῦ φίλος υἱὸς ἅμʼ ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆι
Ἴλιον εἰς ἐύπωλον ἔβη κοίλῃς ἐνὶ νηυσίν,
Ἄντιφος αἰχμητής· τὸν δʼ ἄγριος ἔκτανε Κύκλωψ
ἐν σπῆι γλαφυρῷ, πύματον δʼ ὡπλίσσατο δόρπον.
τρεῖς δέ οἱ ἄλλοι ἔσαν, καὶ ὁ μὲν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμίλει,
Εὐρύνομος, δύο δʼ αἰὲν ἔχον πατρώια ἔργα.
ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς τοῦ λήθετʼ ὀδυρόμενος καὶ ἀχεύων.
τοῦ ὅ γε δάκρυ χέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·
κέκλυτε δὴ νῦν μευ, Ἰθακήσιοι, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·
οὔτε ποθʼ ἡμετέρη ἀγορὴ γένετʼ οὔτε θόωκος
ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς δῖος ἔβη κοίλῃς ἐνὶ νηυσί.
νῦν δὲ τίς ὧδʼ ἤγειρε; τίνα χρειὼ τόσον ἵκει
ἠὲ νέων ἀνδρῶν ἢ οἳ προγενέστεροί εἰσιν;
ἠέ τινʼ ἀγγελίην στρατοῦ ἔκλυεν ἐρχομένοιο,
ἥν χʼ ἡμῖν σάφα εἴποι, ὅτε πρότερός γε πύθοιτο;
ἦέ τι δήμιον ἄλλο πιφαύσκεται ἠδʼ ἀγορεύει;
ἐσθλός μοι δοκεῖ εἶναι, ὀνήμενος. εἴθε οἱ αὐτῷ
Ζεὺς ἀγαθὸν τελέσειεν, ὅτι φρεσὶν ᾗσι μενοινᾷ.
ὣς φάτο, χαῖρε δὲ φήμῃ Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός,
οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτι δὴν ἧστο, μενοίνησεν δʼ ἀγορεύειν,
στῆ δὲ μέσῃ ἀγορῇ· σκῆπτρον δέ οἱ ἔμβαλε χειρὶ
κῆρυξ Πεισήνωρ πεπνυμένα μήδεα εἰδώς.
πρῶτον ἔπειτα γέροντα καθαπτόμενος προσέειπεν·
ὦ γέρον, οὐχ ἑκὰς οὗτος ἀνήρ, τάχα δʼ εἴσεαι αὐτός,
ὃς λαὸν ἤγειρα· μάλιστα δέ μʼ ἄλγος ἱκάνει.
οὔτε τινʼ ἀγγελίην στρατοῦ ἔκλυον ἐρχομένοιο,
ἥν χʼ ὑμῖν σάφα εἴπω, ὅτε πρότερός γε πυθοίμην,
οὔτε τι δήμιον ἄλλο πιφαύσκομαι οὐδʼ ἀγορεύω,
ἀλλʼ ἐμὸν αὐτοῦ χρεῖος, ὅ μοι κακὰ ἔμπεσεν οἴκῳ
δοιά· τὸ μὲν πατέρʼ ἐσθλὸν ἀπώλεσα, ὅς ποτʼ ἐν ὑμῖν
τοίσδεσσιν βασίλευε, πατὴρ δʼ ὣς ἤπιος ἦεν·
νῦν δʼ αὖ καὶ πολὺ μεῖζον, ὃ δὴ τάχα οἶκον ἅπαντα
πάγχυ διαρραίσει, βίοτον δʼ ἀπὸ πάμπαν ὀλέσσει.
μητέρι μοι μνηστῆρες ἐπέχραον οὐκ ἐθελούσῃ,
τῶν ἀνδρῶν φίλοι υἷες, οἳ ἐνθάδε γʼ εἰσὶν ἄριστοι,
οἳ πατρὸς μὲν ἐς οἶκον ἀπερρίγασι νέεσθαι
Ἰκαρίου, ὥς κʼ αὐτὸς ἐεδνώσαιτο θύγατρα,
δοίη δʼ ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλοι καί οἱ κεχαρισμένος ἔλθοι·
οἱ δʼ εἰς ἡμέτερον πωλεύμενοι ἤματα πάντα,
βοῦς ἱερεύοντες καὶ ὄις καὶ πίονας αἶγας
εἰλαπινάζουσιν πίνουσί τε αἴθοπα οἶνον
μαψιδίως· τὰ δὲ πολλὰ κατάνεται. οὐ γὰρ ἔπʼ ἀνήρ,
οἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκεν, ἀρὴν ἀπὸ οἴκου ἀμῦναι.
ἡμεῖς δʼ οὔ νύ τι τοῖοι ἀμυνέμεν· ἦ καὶ ἔπειτα
λευγαλέοι τʼ ἐσόμεσθα καὶ οὐ δεδαηκότες ἀλκήν.
ἦ τʼ ἂν ἀμυναίμην, εἴ μοι δύναμίς γε παρείη.
οὐ γὰρ ἔτʼ ἀνσχετὰ ἔργα τετεύχαται, οὐδʼ ἔτι καλῶς
οἶκος ἐμὸς διόλωλε. νεμεσσήθητε καὶ αὐτοί,
ἄλλους τʼ αἰδέσθητε περικτίονας ἀνθρώπους,
οἳ περιναιετάουσι· θεῶν δʼ ὑποδείσατε μῆνιν,
μή τι μεταστρέψωσιν ἀγασσάμενοι κακὰ ἔργα.
λίσσομαι ἠμὲν Ζηνὸς Ὀλυμπίου ἠδὲ Θέμιστος,
ἥ τʼ ἀνδρῶν ἀγορὰς ἠμὲν λύει ἠδὲ καθίζει·
σχέσθε, φίλοι, καί μʼ οἶον ἐάσατε πένθεϊ λυγρῷ
τείρεσθʼ, εἰ μή πού τι πατὴρ ἐμὸς ἐσθλὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς
δυσμενέων κάκʼ ἔρεξεν ἐυκνήμιδας Ἀχαιούς,
τῶν μʼ ἀποτινύμενοι κακὰ ῥέζετε δυσμενέοντες,
τούτους ὀτρύνοντες. ἐμοὶ δέ κε κέρδιον εἴη
ὑμέας ἐσθέμεναι κειμήλιά τε πρόβασίν τε.
εἴ χʼ ὑμεῖς γε φάγοιτε, τάχʼ ἄν ποτε καὶ τίσις εἴη·
τόφρα γὰρ ἂν κατὰ ἄστυ ποτιπτυσσοίμεθα μύθῳ
χρήματʼ ἀπαιτίζοντες, ἕως κʼ ἀπὸ πάντα δοθείη·
νῦν δέ μοι ἀπρήκτους ὀδύνας ἐμβάλλετε θυμῷ.
ὣς φάτο χωόμενος, ποτὶ δὲ σκῆπτρον βάλε γαίῃ
δάκρυʼ ἀναπρήσας· οἶκτος δʼ ἕλε λαὸν ἅπαντα.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀκὴν ἔσαν, οὐδέ τις ἔτλη
Τηλέμαχον μύθοισιν ἀμείψασθαι χαλεποῖσιν·
Ἀντίνοος δέ μιν οἶος ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·
Τηλέμαχʼ ὑψαγόρη, μένος ἄσχετε, ποῖον ἔειπες
ἡμέας αἰσχύνων· ἐθέλοις δέ κε μῶμον ἀνάψαι.
σοὶ δʼ οὔ τι μνηστῆρες Ἀχαιῶν αἴτιοί εἰσιν,
ἀλλὰ φίλη μήτηρ, ἥ τοι πέρι κέρδεα οἶδεν.
ἤδη γὰρ τρίτον ἐστὶν ἔτος, τάχα δʼ εἶσι τέταρτον,
ἐξ οὗ ἀτέμβει θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν Ἀχαιῶν.
πάντας μέν ῥʼ ἔλπει καὶ ὑπίσχεται ἀνδρὶ ἑκάστῳ
ἀγγελίας προϊεῖσα, νόος δέ οἱ ἄλλα μενοινᾷ.
ἡ δὲ δόλον τόνδʼ ἄλλον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμήριξε·
στησαμένη μέγαν ἱστὸν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὕφαινε,
λεπτὸν καὶ περίμετρον· ἄφαρ δʼ ἡμῖν μετέειπε·
κοῦροι ἐμοὶ μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
μίμνετʼ ἐπειγόμενοι τὸν ἐμὸν γάμον, εἰς ὅ κε φᾶρος
ἐκτελέσω, μή μοι μεταμώνια νήματʼ ὄληται,
Λαέρτῃ ἥρωι ταφήιον, εἰς ὅτε κέν μιν
μοῖρʼ ὀλοὴ καθέλῃσι τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο,
μή τίς μοι κατὰ δῆμον Ἀχαιϊάδων νεμεσήσῃ.
αἴ κεν ἄτερ σπείρου κεῖται πολλὰ κτεατίσσας.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
ἔνθα καὶ ἠματίη μὲν ὑφαίνεσκεν μέγαν ἱστόν,
νύκτας δʼ ἀλλύεσκεν, ἐπεὶ δαΐδας παραθεῖτο.
ὣς τρίετες μὲν ἔληθε δόλῳ καὶ ἔπειθεν Ἀχαιούς·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε τέτρατον ἦλθεν ἔτος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,
καὶ τότε δή τις ἔειπε γυναικῶν, ἣ σάφα ᾔδη,
καὶ τήν γʼ ἀλλύουσαν ἐφεύρομεν ἀγλαὸν ἱστόν.
ὣς τὸ μὲν ἐξετέλεσσε καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλουσʼ ὑπʼ ἀνάγκης·
σοὶ δʼ ὧδε μνηστῆρες ὑποκρίνονται, ἵνʼ εἰδῇς
αὐτὸς σῷ θυμῷ, εἰδῶσι δὲ πάντες Ἀχαιοί·
μητέρα σὴν ἀπόπεμψον, ἄνωχθι δέ μιν γαμέεσθαι
τῷ ὅτεῴ τε πατὴρ κέλεται καὶ ἁνδάνει αὐτῇ.
εἰ δʼ ἔτʼ ἀνιήσει γε πολὺν χρόνον υἷας Ἀχαιῶν,
τὰ φρονέουσʼ ἀνὰ θυμόν, ὅ οἱ πέρι δῶκεν Ἀθήνη
ἔργα τʼ ἐπίστασθαι περικαλλέα καὶ φρένας ἐσθλὰς
κέρδεά θʼ, οἷʼ οὔ πώ τινʼ ἀκούομεν οὐδὲ παλαιῶν,
τάων αἳ πάρος ἦσαν ἐυπλοκαμῖδες Ἀχαιαί,
Τυρώ τʼ Ἀλκμήνη τε ἐυστέφανός τε Μυκήνη·
τάων οὔ τις ὁμοῖα νοήματα Πηνελοπείῃ
ᾔδη· ἀτὰρ μὲν τοῦτό γʼ ἐναίσιμον οὐκ ἐνόησε.
τόφρα γὰρ οὖν βίοτόν τε τεὸν καὶ κτήματʼ ἔδονται,
ὄφρα κε κείνη τοῦτον ἔχῃ νόον, ὅν τινά οἱ νῦν
ἐν στήθεσσι τιθεῖσι θεοί. μέγα μὲν κλέος αὐτῇ
ποιεῖτʼ, αὐτὰρ σοί γε ποθὴν πολέος βιότοιο.
ἡμεῖς δʼ οὔτʼ ἐπὶ ἔργα πάρος γʼ ἴμεν οὔτε πῃ ἄλλῃ,
πρίν γʼ αὐτὴν γήμασθαι Ἀχαιῶν ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλῃσι.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀντίνοʼ, οὔ πως ἔστι δόμων ἀέκουσαν ἀπῶσαι
ἥ μʼ ἔτεχʼ, ἥ μʼ ἔθρεψε· πατὴρ δʼ ἐμὸς ἄλλοθι γαίης,
ζώει ὅ γʼ ἦ τέθνηκε· κακὸν δέ με πόλλʼ ἀποτίνειν
Ἰκαρίῳ, αἴ κʼ αὐτὸς ἑκὼν ἀπὸ μητέρα πέμψω.
ἐκ γὰρ τοῦ πατρὸς κακὰ πείσομαι, ἄλλα δὲ δαίμων
δώσει, ἐπεὶ μήτηρ στυγερὰς ἀρήσετʼ ἐρινῦς
οἴκου ἀπερχομένη· νέμεσις δέ μοι ἐξ ἀνθρώπων
ἔσσεται· ὣς οὐ τοῦτον ἐγώ ποτε μῦθον ἐνίψω.
ὑμέτερος δʼ εἰ μὲν θυμὸς νεμεσίζεται αὐτῶν,
ἔξιτέ μοι μεγάρων, ἄλλας δʼ ἀλεγύνετε δαῖτας
ὑμὰ κτήματʼ ἔδοντες ἀμειβόμενοι κατὰ οἴκους.
εἰ δʼ ὑμῖν δοκέει τόδε λωίτερον καὶ ἄμεινον
ἔμμεναι, ἀνδρὸς ἑνὸς βίοτον νήποινον ὀλέσθαι,
κείρετʼ· ἐγὼ δὲ θεοὺς ἐπιβώσομαι αἰὲν ἐόντας,
αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς δῷσι παλίντιτα ἔργα γενέσθαι.
νήποινοί κεν ἔπειτα δόμων ἔντοσθεν ὄλοισθε.
ὣς φάτο Τηλέμαχος, τῷ δʼ αἰετὼ εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς
ὑψόθεν ἐκ κορυφῆς ὄρεος προέηκε πέτεσθαι.
τὼ δʼ ἕως μέν ῥʼ ἐπέτοντο μετὰ πνοιῇς ἀνέμοιο
πλησίω ἀλλήλοισι τιταινομένω πτερύγεσσιν·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ μέσσην ἀγορὴν πολύφημον ἱκέσθην,
ἔνθʼ ἐπιδινηθέντε τιναξάσθην πτερὰ πυκνά,
ἐς δʼ ἰδέτην πάντων κεφαλάς, ὄσσοντο δʼ ὄλεθρον·
δρυψαμένω δʼ ὀνύχεσσι παρειὰς ἀμφί τε δειρὰς
δεξιὼ ἤιξαν διά τʼ οἰκία καὶ πόλιν αὐτῶν.
θάμβησαν δʼ ὄρνιθας, ἐπεὶ ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν·
ὥρμηναν δʼ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ἅ περ τελέεσθαι ἔμελλον.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε γέρων ἥρως Ἁλιθέρσης
Μαστορίδης· ὁ γὰρ οἶος ὁμηλικίην ἐκέκαστο
ὄρνιθας γνῶναι καὶ ἐναίσιμα μυθήσασθαι·
ὅ σφιν ἐὺ φρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·
κέκλυτε δὴ νῦν μευ, Ἰθακήσιοι, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·
μνηστῆρσιν δὲ μάλιστα πιφαυσκόμενος τάδε εἴρω·
τοῖσιν γὰρ μέγα πῆμα κυλίνδεται· οὐ γὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
δὴν ἀπάνευθε φίλων ὧν ἔσσεται, ἀλλά που ἤδη
ἐγγὺς ἐὼν τοῖσδεσσι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φυτεύει
πάντεσσιν· πολέσιν δὲ καὶ ἄλλοισιν κακὸν ἔσται,
οἳ νεμόμεσθʼ Ἰθάκην ἐυδείελον. ἀλλὰ πολὺ πρὶν
φραζώμεσθʼ, ὥς κεν καταπαύσομεν· οἱ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ
παυέσθων· καὶ γάρ σφιν ἄφαρ τόδε λώιόν ἐστιν.
οὐ γὰρ ἀπείρητος μαντεύομαι, ἀλλʼ ἐὺ εἰδώς·
καὶ γὰρ κείνῳ φημὶ τελευτηθῆναι ἅπαντα,
ὥς οἱ ἐμυθεόμην, ὅτε Ἴλιον εἰσανέβαινον
Ἀργεῖοι, μετὰ δέ σφιν ἔβη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς.
φῆν κακὰ πολλὰ παθόντʼ, ὀλέσαντʼ ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους,
ἄγνωστον πάντεσσιν ἐεικοστῷ ἐνιαυτῷ
οἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· τὰ δὲ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύμαχος Πολύβου πάϊς ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ὦ γέρον, εἰ δʼ ἄγε νῦν μαντεύεο σοῖσι τέκεσσιν
οἴκαδʼ ἰών, μή πού τι κακὸν πάσχωσιν ὀπίσσω·
ταῦτα δʼ ἐγὼ σέο πολλὸν ἀμείνων μαντεύεσθαι.
ὄρνιθες δέ τε πολλοὶ ὑπʼ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο
φοιτῶσʼ, οὐδέ τε πάντες ἐναίσιμοι· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὤλετο τῆλʼ, ὡς καὶ σὺ καταφθίσθαι σὺν ἐκείνῳ
ὤφελες. οὐκ ἂν τόσσα θεοπροπέων ἀγόρευες,
οὐδέ κε Τηλέμαχον κεχολωμένον ὧδʼ ἀνιείης,
σῷ οἴκῳ δῶρον ποτιδέγμενος, αἴ κε πόρῃσιν.
ἀλλʼ ἔκ τοι ἐρέω, τὸ δὲ καὶ τετελεσμένον ἔσται·
αἴ κε νεώτερον ἄνδρα παλαιά τε πολλά τε εἰδὼς
παρφάμενος ἐπέεσσιν ἐποτρύνῃς χαλεπαίνειν,
αὐτῷ μέν οἱ πρῶτον ἀνιηρέστερον ἔσται,
πρῆξαι δʼ ἔμπης οὔ τι δυνήσεται εἵνεκα τῶνδε·
σοὶ δέ, γέρον, θωὴν ἐπιθήσομεν, ἥν κʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
τίνων ἀσχάλλῃς· χαλεπὸν δέ τοι ἔσσεται ἄλγος.
Τηλεμάχῳ δʼ ἐν πᾶσιν ἐγὼν ὑποθήσομαι αὐτός·
μητέρα ἣν ἐς πατρὸς ἀνωγέτω ἀπονέεσθαι·
οἱ δὲ γάμον τεύξουσι καὶ ἀρτυνέουσιν ἔεδνα
πολλὰ μάλʼ, ὅσσα ἔοικε φίλης ἐπὶ παιδὸς ἕπεσθαι.
οὐ γὰρ πρὶν παύσεσθαι ὀίομαι υἷας Ἀχαιῶν
μνηστύος ἀργαλέης, ἐπεὶ οὔ τινα δείδιμεν ἔμπης,
οὔτʼ οὖν Τηλέμαχον μάλα περ πολύμυθον ἐόντα,
οὔτε θεοπροπίης ἐμπαζόμεθʼ, ἣν σύ, γεραιέ,
μυθέαι ἀκράαντον, ἀπεχθάνεαι δʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον.
χρήματα δʼ αὖτε κακῶς βεβρώσεται, οὐδέ ποτʼ ἶσα
ἔσσεται, ὄφρα κεν ἥ γε διατρίβῃσιν Ἀχαιοὺς
ὃν γάμον· ἡμεῖς δʼ αὖ ποτιδέγμενοι ἤματα πάντα
εἵνεκα τῆς ἀρετῆς ἐριδαίνομεν, οὐδὲ μετʼ ἄλλας
ἐρχόμεθʼ, ἃς ἐπιεικὲς ὀπυιέμεν ἐστὶν ἑκάστῳ.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Εὐρύμαχʼ ἠδὲ καὶ ἄλλοι, ὅσοι μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοί,
ταῦτα μὲν οὐχ ὑμέας ἔτι λίσσομαι οὐδʼ ἀγορεύω·
ἤδη γὰρ τὰ ἴσασι θεοὶ καὶ πάντες Ἀχαιοί.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι δότε νῆα θοὴν καὶ εἴκοσʼ ἑταίρους,
οἵ κέ μοι ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα διαπρήσσωσι κέλευθον.
εἶμι γὰρ ἐς Σπάρτην τε καὶ ἐς Πύλον ἠμαθόεντα
νόστον πευσόμενος πατρὸς δὴν οἰχομένοιο,
ἤν τίς μοι εἴπῃσι βροτῶν ἢ ὄσσαν ἀκούσω
ἐκ Διός, ἥ τε μάλιστα φέρει κλέος ἀνθρώποισιν·
εἰ μέν κεν πατρὸς βίοτον καὶ νόστον ἀκούσω,
ἦ τʼ ἄν, τρυχόμενός περ, ἔτι τλαίην ἐνιαυτόν·
εἰ δέ κε τεθνηῶτος ἀκούσω μηδʼ ἔτʼ ἐόντος,
νοστήσας δὴ ἔπειτα φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν
σῆμά τέ οἱ χεύω καὶ ἐπὶ κτέρεα κτερεΐξω
πολλὰ μάλʼ, ὅσσα ἔοικε, καὶ ἀνέρι μητέρα δώσω.
ἦ τοι ὅ γʼ ὣς εἰπὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο, τοῖσι δʼ ἀνέστη
Μέντωρ, ὅς ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος ἦεν ἑταῖρος,
καί οἱ ἰὼν ἐν νηυσὶν ἐπέτρεπεν οἶκον ἅπαντα,
πείθεσθαί τε γέροντι καὶ ἔμπεδα πάντα φυλάσσειν·
ὅ σφιν ἐὺ φρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·
κέκλυτε δὴ νῦν μευ, Ἰθακήσιοι, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·
μή τις ἔτι πρόφρων ἀγανὸς καὶ ἤπιος ἔστω
σκηπτοῦχος βασιλεύς, μηδὲ φρεσὶν αἴσιμα εἰδώς,
ἀλλʼ αἰεὶ χαλεπός τʼ εἴη καὶ αἴσυλα ῥέζοι·
ὡς οὔ τις μέμνηται Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο
λαῶν οἷσιν ἄνασσε, πατὴρ δʼ ὣς ἤπιος ἦεν.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μνηστῆρας ἀγήνορας οὔ τι μεγαίρω
ἔρδειν ἔργα βίαια κακορραφίῃσι νόοιο·
σφὰς γὰρ παρθέμενοι κεφαλὰς κατέδουσι βιαίως
οἶκον Ὀδυσσῆος, τὸν δʼ οὐκέτι φασὶ νέεσθαι.
νῦν δʼ ἄλλῳ δήμῳ νεμεσίζομαι, οἷον ἅπαντες
ἧσθʼ ἄνεῳ, ἀτὰρ οὔ τι καθαπτόμενοι ἐπέεσσι
παύρους μνηστῆρας καταπαύετε πολλοὶ ἐόντες.
τὸν δʼ Εὐηνορίδης Λειώκριτος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Μέντορ ἀταρτηρέ, φρένας ἠλεέ, ποῖον ἔειπες
ἡμέας ὀτρύνων καταπαυέμεν. ἀργαλέον δὲ
ἀνδράσι καὶ πλεόνεσσι μαχήσασθαι περὶ δαιτί.
εἴ περ γάρ κʼ Ὀδυσεὺς Ἰθακήσιος αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν
δαινυμένους κατὰ δῶμα ἑὸν μνηστῆρας ἀγαυοὺς
ἐξελάσαι μεγάροιο μενοινήσειʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,
οὔ κέν οἱ κεχάροιτο γυνή, μάλα περ χατέουσα,
ἐλθόντʼ, ἀλλά κεν αὐτοῦ ἀεικέα πότμον ἐπίσποι,
εἰ πλεόνεσσι μάχοιτο· σὺ δʼ οὐ κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε, λαοὶ μὲν σκίδνασθʼ ἐπὶ ἔργα ἕκαστος,
τούτῳ δʼ ὀτρυνέει Μέντωρ ὁδὸν ἠδʼ Ἁλιθέρσης,
οἵ τέ οἱ ἐξ ἀρχῆς πατρώιοί εἰσιν ἑταῖροι.
ἀλλʼ ὀίω, καὶ δηθὰ καθήμενος ἀγγελιάων
πεύσεται εἰν Ἰθάκῃ, τελέει δʼ ὁδὸν οὔ ποτε ταύτην.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, λῦσεν δʼ ἀγορὴν αἰψηρήν.
οἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐσκίδναντο ἑὰ πρὸς δώμαθʼ ἕκαστος,
μνηστῆρες δʼ ἐς δώματʼ ἴσαν θείου Ὀδυσῆος.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἀπάνευθε κιὼν ἐπὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης,
χεῖρας νιψάμενος πολιῆς ἁλὸς εὔχετʼ Ἀθήνῃ·
κλῦθί μευ, ὃ χθιζὸς θεὸς ἤλυθες ἡμέτερον δῶ
καί μʼ ἐν νηὶ κέλευσας ἐπʼ ἠεροειδέα πόντον
νόστον πευσόμενον πατρὸς δὴν οἰχομένοιο
ἔρχεσθαι· τὰ δὲ πάντα διατρίβουσιν Ἀχαιοί,
μνηστῆρες δὲ μάλιστα κακῶς ὑπερηνορέοντες.
ὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος, σχεδόθεν δέ οἱ ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη,
Μέντορι εἰδομένη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ αὐδήν,
καί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
Τηλέμαχʼ, οὐδʼ ὄπιθεν κακὸς ἔσσεαι οὐδʼ ἀνοήμων,
εἰ δή τοι σοῦ πατρὸς ἐνέστακται μένος ἠύ,
οἷος κεῖνος ἔην τελέσαι ἔργον τε ἔπος τε·
οὔ τοι ἔπειθʼ ἁλίη ὁδὸς ἔσσεται οὐδʼ ἀτέλεστος.
εἰ δʼ οὐ κείνου γʼ ἐσσὶ γόνος καὶ Πηνελοπείης,
οὐ σέ γʼ ἔπειτα ἔολπα τελευτήσειν, ἃ μενοινᾷς.
παῦροι γάρ τοι παῖδες ὁμοῖοι πατρὶ πέλονται,
οἱ πλέονες κακίους, παῦροι δέ τε πατρὸς ἀρείους.
ἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ οὐδʼ ὄπιθεν κακὸς ἔσσεαι οὐδʼ ἀνοήμων,
οὐδέ σε πάγχυ γε μῆτις Ὀδυσσῆος προλέλοιπεν,
ἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα τελευτῆσαι τάδε ἔργα.
τῶ νῦν μνηστήρων μὲν ἔα βουλήν τε νόον τε
ἀφραδέων, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι νοήμονες οὐδὲ δίκαιοι·
οὐδέ τι ἴσασιν θάνατον καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν,
ὃς δή σφι σχεδόν ἐστιν, ἐπʼ ἤματι πάντας ὀλέσθαι.
σοὶ δʼ ὁδὸς οὐκέτι δηρὸν ἀπέσσεται ἣν σὺ μενοινᾷς·
τοῖος γάρ τοι ἑταῖρος ἐγὼ πατρώιός εἰμι,
ὅς τοι νῆα θοὴν στελέω καὶ ἅμʼ ἕψομαι αὐτός.
ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν πρὸς δώματʼ ἰὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμίλει,
ὅπλισσόν τʼ ἤια καὶ ἄγγεσιν ἄρσον ἅπαντα,
οἶνον ἐν ἀμφιφορεῦσι, καὶ ἄλφιτα, μυελὸν ἀνδρῶν,
δέρμασιν ἐν πυκινοῖσιν· ἐγὼ δʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον ἑταίρους
αἶψʼ ἐθελοντῆρας συλλέξομαι. εἰσὶ δὲ νῆες
πολλαὶ ἐν ἀμφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ, νέαι ἠδὲ παλαιαί·
τάων μέν τοι ἐγὼν ἐπιόψομαι ἥ τις ἀρίστη,
ὦκα δʼ ἐφοπλίσσαντες ἐνήσομεν εὐρέι πόντῳ.
ὣς φάτʼ Ἀθηναίη κούρη Διός· οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτι δὴν
Τηλέμαχος παρέμιμνεν, ἐπεὶ θεοῦ ἔκλυεν αὐδήν.
βῆ δʼ ἰέναι πρὸς δῶμα, φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ,
εὗρε δʼ ἄρα μνηστῆρας ἀγήνορας ἐν μεγάροισιν,
αἶγας ἀνιεμένους σιάλους θʼ εὕοντας ἐν αὐλῇ.
Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἰθὺς γελάσας κίε Τηλεμάχοιο,
ἔν τʼ ἄρα οἱ φῦ χειρί, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
Τηλέμαχʼ ὑψαγόρη, μένος ἄσχετε, μή τί τοι ἄλλο
ἐν στήθεσσι κακὸν μελέτω ἔργον τε ἔπος τε,
ἀλλά μοι ἐσθιέμεν καὶ πινέμεν, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ.
ταῦτα δέ τοι μάλα πάντα τελευτήσουσιν Ἀχαιοί,
νῆα καὶ ἐξαίτους ἐρέτας, ἵνα θᾶσσον ἵκηαι
ἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην μετʼ ἀγαυοῦ πατρὸς ἀκουήν.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀντίνοʼ, οὔ πως ἔστιν ὑπερφιάλοισι μεθʼ ὑμῖν
δαίνυσθαί τʼ ἀκέοντα καὶ εὐφραίνεσθαι ἕκηλον.
ἦ οὐχ ἅλις ὡς τὸ πάροιθεν ἐκείρετε πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλὰ
κτήματʼ ἐμά, μνηστῆρες, ἐγὼ δʼ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα;
νῦν δʼ ὅτε δὴ μέγας εἰμὶ καὶ ἄλλων μῦθον ἀκούων
πυνθάνομαι, καὶ δή μοι ἀέξεται ἔνδοθι θυμός,
πειρήσω, ὥς κʼ ὔμμι κακὰς ἐπὶ κῆρας ἰήλω,
ἠὲ Πύλονδʼ ἐλθών, ἢ αὐτοῦ τῷδʼ ἐνὶ δήμῳ.
εἶμι μέν, οὐδʼ ἁλίη ὁδὸς ἔσσεται ἣν ἀγορεύω,
ἔμπορος· οὐ γὰρ νηὸς ἐπήβολος οὐδʼ ἐρετάων
γίγνομαι· ὥς νύ που ὔμμιν ἐείσατο κέρδιον εἶναι.
ἦ ῥα, καὶ ἐκ χειρὸς χεῖρα σπάσατʼ Ἀντινόοιο
ῥεῖα· μνηστῆρες δὲ δόμον κάτα δαῖτα πένοντο.
οἱ δʼ ἐπελώβευον καὶ ἐκερτόμεον ἐπέεσσιν.
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·
ἦ μάλα Τηλέμαχος φόνον ἡμῖν μερμηρίζει.
ἤ τινας ἐκ Πύλου ἄξει ἀμύντορας ἠμαθόεντος
ἢ ὅ γε καὶ Σπάρτηθεν, ἐπεί νύ περ ἵεται αἰνῶς·
ἠὲ καὶ εἰς Ἐφύρην ἐθέλει, πίειραν ἄρουραν,
ἐλθεῖν, ὄφρʼ ἔνθεν θυμοφθόρα φάρμακʼ ἐνείκῃ,
ἐν δὲ βάλῃ κρητῆρι καὶ ἡμέας πάντας ὀλέσσῃ.
ἄλλος δʼ αὖτʼ εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·
τίς δʼ οἶδʼ, εἴ κε καὶ αὐτὸς ἰὼν κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς
τῆλε φίλων ἀπόληται ἀλώμενος ὥς περ Ὀδυσσεύς;
οὕτω κεν καὶ μᾶλλον ὀφέλλειεν πόνον ἄμμιν·
κτήματα γάρ κεν πάντα δασαίμεθα, οἰκία δʼ αὖτε
τούτου μητέρι δοῖμεν ἔχειν ἠδʼ ὅς τις ὀπυίοι.
ὣς φάν, ὁ δʼ ὑψόροφον θάλαμον κατεβήσετο πατρὸς
εὐρύν, ὅθι νητὸς χρυσὸς καὶ χαλκὸς ἔκειτο
ἐσθής τʼ ἐν χηλοῖσιν ἅλις τʼ ἐυῶδες ἔλαιον·
ἐν δὲ πίθοι οἴνοιο παλαιοῦ ἡδυπότοιο
ἕστασαν, ἄκρητον θεῖον ποτὸν ἐντὸς ἔχοντες,
ἑξείης ποτὶ τοῖχον ἀρηρότες, εἴ ποτʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
οἴκαδε νοστήσειε καὶ ἄλγεα πολλὰ μογήσας.
κληισταὶ δʼ ἔπεσαν σανίδες πυκινῶς ἀραρυῖαι,
δικλίδες· ἐν δὲ γυνὴ ταμίη νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ
ἔσχʼ, ἣ πάντʼ ἐφύλασσε νόου πολυϊδρείῃσιν,
Εὐρύκλειʼ, Ὦπος θυγάτηρ Πεισηνορίδαο.
τὴν τότε Τηλέμαχος προσέφη θαλαμόνδε καλέσσας·
μαῖʼ, ἄγε δή μοι οἶνον ἐν ἀμφιφορεῦσιν ἄφυσσον
ἡδύν, ὅτις μετὰ τὸν λαρώτατος ὃν σὺ φυλάσσεις
κεῖνον ὀιομένη τὸν κάμμορον, εἴ ποθεν ἔλθοι
διογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξας.
δώδεκα δʼ ἔμπλησον καὶ πώμασιν ἄρσον ἅπαντας.
ἐν δέ μοι ἄλφιτα χεῦον ἐϋρραφέεσσι δοροῖσιν·
εἴκοσι δʼ ἔστω μέτρα μυληφάτου ἀλφίτου ἀκτῆς.
αὐτὴ δʼ οἴη ἴσθι· τὰ δʼ ἁθρόα πάντα τετύχθω·
ἑσπέριος γὰρ ἐγὼν αἱρήσομαι, ὁππότε κεν δὴ
μήτηρ εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβῇ κοίτου τε μέδηται.
εἶμι γὰρ ἐς Σπάρτην τε καὶ ἐς Πύλον ἠμαθόεντα
νόστον πευσόμενος πατρὸς φίλου, ἤν που ἀκούσω.
ὣς φάτο, κώκυσεν δὲ φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια,
καί ῥʼ ὀλοφυρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
τίπτε δέ τοι, φίλε τέκνον, ἐνὶ φρεσὶ τοῦτο νόημα
ἔπλετο; πῇ δʼ ἐθέλεις ἰέναι πολλὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν
μοῦνος ἐὼν ἀγαπητός; ὁ δʼ ὤλετο τηλόθι πάτρης
διογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς ἀλλογνώτῳ ἐνὶ δήμῳ.
οἱ δέ τοι αὐτίκʼ ἰόντι κακὰ φράσσονται ὀπίσσω,
ὥς κε δόλῳ φθίῃς, τάδε δʼ αὐτοὶ πάντα δάσονται.
ἀλλὰ μένʼ αὖθʼ ἐπὶ σοῖσι καθήμενος· οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ
πόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον κακὰ πάσχειν οὐδʼ ἀλάλησθαι.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
θάρσει, μαῖʼ, ἐπεὶ οὔ τοι ἄνευ θεοῦ ἥδε γε βουλή.
ἀλλʼ ὄμοσον μὴ μητρὶ φίλῃ τάδε μυθήσασθαι,
πρίν γʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἑνδεκάτη τε δυωδεκάτη τε γένηται,
ἢ αὐτὴν ποθέσαι καὶ ἀφορμηθέντος ἀκοῦσαι,
ὡς ἂν μὴ κλαίουσα κατὰ χρόα καλὸν ἰάπτῃ.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρῆυς δὲ θεῶν μέγαν ὅρκον ἀπώμνυ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσέν τε τελεύτησέν τε τὸν ὅρκον,
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτά οἱ οἶνον ἐν ἀμφιφορεῦσιν ἄφυσσεν,
ἐν δέ οἱ ἄλφιτα χεῦεν ἐϋρραφέεσσι δοροῖσι.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἐς δώματʼ ἰὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμίλει.
ἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
Τηλεμάχῳ ἐικυῖα κατὰ πτόλιν ᾤχετο πάντῃ,
καί ῥα ἑκάστῳ φωτὶ παρισταμένη φάτο μῦθον,
ἑσπερίους δʼ ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν ἀγέρεσθαι ἀνώγει.
ἡ δʼ αὖτε Φρονίοιο Νοήμονα φαίδιμον υἱὸν
ᾔτεε νῆα θοήν· ὁ δέ οἱ πρόφρων ὑπέδεκτο.
δύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί,
καὶ τότε νῆα θοὴν ἅλαδʼ εἴρυσε, πάντα δʼ ἐν αὐτῇ
ὅπλʼ ἐτίθει, τά τε νῆες ἐύσσελμοι φορέουσι.
στῆσε δʼ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῇ λιμένος, περὶ δʼ ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι
ἁθρόοι ἠγερέθοντο· θεὰ δʼ ὤτρυνεν ἕκαστον.
ἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
βῆ ῥʼ ἰέναι πρὸς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο·
ἔνθα μνηστήρεσσιν ἐπὶ γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἔχευε,
πλάζε δὲ πίνοντας, χειρῶν δʼ ἔκβαλλε κύπελλα.
οἱ δʼ εὕδειν ὤρνυντο κατὰ πτόλιν, οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτι δὴν
ἥατʼ, ἐπεί σφισιν ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔπιπτεν.
αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχον προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη
ἐκπροκαλεσσαμένη μεγάρων ἐὺ ναιεταόντων,
Μέντορι εἰδομένη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ αὐδήν·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἤδη μέν τοι ἐυκνήμιδες ἑταῖροι
ἥατʼ ἐπήρετμοι τὴν σὴν ποτιδέγμενοι ὁρμήν·
ἀλλʼ ἴομεν, μὴ δηθὰ διατρίβωμεν ὁδοῖο.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἡγήσατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
καρπαλίμως· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα μετʼ ἴχνια βαῖνε θεοῖο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
εὗρον ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ θινὶ κάρη κομόωντας ἑταίρους.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειφʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο·
δεῦτε, φίλοι, ἤια φερώμεθα· πάντα γὰρ ἤδη
ἁθρόʼ ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ. μήτηρ δʼ ἐμὴ οὔ τι πέπυσται,
οὐδʼ ἄλλαι δμωαί, μία δʼ οἴη μῦθον ἄκουσεν.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἡγήσατο, τοὶ δʼ ἅμʼ ἕποντο.
οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντα φέροντες ἐυσσέλμῳ ἐπὶ νηὶ
κάτθεσαν, ὡς ἐκέλευσεν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός.
ἂν δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος νηὸς βαῖνʼ, ἦρχε δʼ Ἀθήνη,
νηὶ δʼ ἐνὶ πρυμνῇ κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο· ἄγχι δʼ ἄρʼ αὐτῆς
ἕζετο Τηλέμαχος. τοὶ δὲ πρυμνήσιʼ ἔλυσαν,
ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βάντες ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον.
τοῖσιν δʼ ἴκμενον οὖρον ἵει γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
ἀκραῆ Ζέφυρον, κελάδοντʼ ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσεν
ὅπλων ἅπτεσθαι· τοὶ δʼ ὀτρύνοντος ἄκουσαν.
ἱστὸν δʼ εἰλάτινον κοίλης ἔντοσθε μεσόδμης
στῆσαν ἀείραντες, κατὰ δὲ προτόνοισιν ἔδησαν,
ἕλκον δʼ ἱστία λευκὰ ἐυστρέπτοισι βοεῦσιν.
ἔπρησεν δʼ ἄνεμος μέσον ἱστίον, ἀμφὶ δὲ κῦμα
στείρῃ πορφύρεον μεγάλʼ ἴαχε νηὸς ἰούσης·
ἡ δʼ ἔθεεν κατὰ κῦμα διαπρήσσουσα κέλευθον.
δησάμενοι δʼ ἄρα ὅπλα θοὴν ἀνὰ νῆα μέλαιναν
στήσαντο κρητῆρας ἐπιστεφέας οἴνοιο,
λεῖβον δʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖς αἰειγενέτῃσιν,
ἐκ πάντων δὲ μάλιστα Διὸς γλαυκώπιδι κούρῃ.
παννυχίη μέν ῥʼ ἥ γε καὶ ἠῶ πεῖρε κέλευθον.

### Book 3

Ἠέλιος δʼ ἀνόρουσε, λιπὼν περικαλλέα λίμνην,
οὐρανὸν ἐς πολύχαλκον, ἵνʼ ἀθανάτοισι φαείνοι
καὶ θνητοῖσι βροτοῖσιν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν·
οἱ δὲ Πύλον, Νηλῆος ἐυκτίμενον πτολίεθρον,
ἷξον· τοὶ δʼ ἐπὶ θινὶ θαλάσσης ἱερὰ ῥέζον,
ταύρους παμμέλανας, ἐνοσίχθονι κυανοχαίτῃ.
ἐννέα δʼ ἕδραι ἔσαν, πεντακόσιοι δʼ ἐν ἑκάστῃ
ἥατο καὶ προύχοντο ἑκάστοθι ἐννέα ταύρους.
εὖθʼ οἱ σπλάγχνα πάσαντο, θεῷ δʼ ἐπὶ μηρίʼ ἔκαιον,
οἱ δʼ ἰθὺς κατάγοντο ἰδʼ ἱστία νηὸς ἐίσης
στεῖλαν ἀείραντες, τὴν δʼ ὥρμισαν, ἐκ δʼ ἔβαν αὐτοί·
ἐκ δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος νηὸς βαῖνʼ, ἦρχε δʼ Ἀθήνη.
τὸν προτέρη προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
Τηλέμαχʼ, οὐ μέν σε χρὴ ἔτʼ αἰδοῦς, οὐδʼ ἠβαιόν·
τοὔνεκα γὰρ καὶ πόντον ἐπέπλως, ὄφρα πύθηαι
πατρός, ὅπου κύθε γαῖα καὶ ὅν τινα πότμον ἐπέσπεν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἰθὺς κίε Νέστορος ἱπποδάμοιο·
εἴδομεν ἥν τινα μῆτιν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κέκευθε.
λίσσεσθαι δέ μιν αὐτός, ὅπως νημερτέα εἴπῃ·
ψεῦδος δʼ οὐκ ἐρέει· μάλα γὰρ πεπνυμένος ἐστί.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Μέντορ, πῶς τʼ ἄρʼ ἴω; πῶς τʼ ἂρ προσπτύξομαι αὐτόν;
οὐδέ τί πω μύθοισι πεπείρημαι πυκινοῖσιν·
αἰδὼς δʼ αὖ νέον ἄνδρα γεραίτερον ἐξερέεσθαι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἄλλα μὲν αὐτὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶ σῇσι νοήσεις,
ἄλλα δὲ καὶ δαίμων ὑποθήσεται· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω
οὔ σε θεῶν ἀέκητι γενέσθαι τε τραφέμεν τε.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἡγήσατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
καρπαλίμως· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα μετʼ ἴχνια βαῖνε θεοῖο.
ἷξον δʼ ἐς Πυλίων ἀνδρῶν ἄγυρίν τε καὶ ἕδρας,
ἔνθʼ ἄρα Νέστωρ ἧστο σὺν υἱάσιν, ἀμφὶ δʼ ἑταῖροι
δαῖτʼ ἐντυνόμενοι κρέα τʼ ὤπτων ἄλλα τʼ ἔπειρον.
οἱ δʼ ὡς οὖν ξείνους ἴδον, ἁθρόοι ἦλθον ἅπαντες,
χερσίν τʼ ἠσπάζοντο καὶ ἑδριάασθαι ἄνωγον.
πρῶτος Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος ἐγγύθεν ἐλθὼν
ἀμφοτέρων ἕλε χεῖρα καὶ ἵδρυσεν παρὰ δαιτὶ
κώεσιν ἐν μαλακοῖσιν ἐπὶ ψαμάθοις ἁλίῃσιν
πάρ τε κασιγνήτῳ Θρασυμήδεϊ καὶ πατέρι ᾧ·
δῶκε δʼ ἄρα σπλάγχνων μοίρας, ἐν δʼ οἶνον ἔχευεν
χρυσείῳ δέπαϊ· δειδισκόμενος δὲ προσηύδα
Παλλάδʼ Ἀθηναίην κούρην Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο·
εὔχεο νῦν, ὦ ξεῖνε, Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι·
τοῦ γὰρ καὶ δαίτης ἠντήσατε δεῦρο μολόντες.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν σπείσῃς τε καὶ εὔξεαι, ἣ θέμις ἐστί,
δὸς καὶ τούτῳ ἔπειτα δέπας μελιηδέος οἴνου
σπεῖσαι, ἐπεὶ καὶ τοῦτον ὀίομαι ἀθανάτοισιν
εὔχεσθαι· πάντες δὲ θεῶν χατέουσʼ ἄνθρωποι.
ἀλλὰ νεώτερός ἐστιν, ὁμηλικίη δʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ·
τοὔνεκα σοὶ προτέρῳ δώσω χρύσειον ἄλεισον.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἐν χειρὶ τίθει δέπας ἡδέος οἴνου·
χαῖρε δʼ Ἀθηναίη πεπνυμένῳ ἀνδρὶ δικαίῳ,
οὕνεκα οἷ προτέρῃ δῶκε χρύσειον ἄλεισον·
αὐτίκα δʼ εὔχετο πολλὰ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι·
κλῦθι, Ποσείδαον γαιήοχε, μηδὲ μεγήρῃς
ἡμῖν εὐχομένοισι τελευτῆσαι τάδε ἔργα.
Νέστορι μὲν πρώτιστα καὶ υἱάσι κῦδος ὄπαζε,
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτʼ ἄλλοισι δίδου χαρίεσσαν ἀμοιβὴν
σύμπασιν Πυλίοισιν ἀγακλειτῆς ἑκατόμβης.
δὸς δʼ ἔτι Τηλέμαχον καὶ ἐμὲ πρήξαντα νέεσθαι,
οὕνεκα δεῦρʼ ἱκόμεσθα θοῇ σὺν νηὶ μελαίνῃ.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔπειτʼ ἠρᾶτο καὶ αὐτὴ πάντα τελεύτα.
δῶκε δὲ Τηλεμάχῳ καλὸν δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον·
ὣς δʼ αὔτως ἠρᾶτο Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός.
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ὤπτησαν κρέʼ ὑπέρτερα καὶ ἐρύσαντο,
μοίρας δασσάμενοι δαίνυντʼ ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
τοῖς ἄρα μύθων ἦρχε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
νῦν δὴ κάλλιόν ἐστι μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι
ξείνους, οἵ τινές εἰσιν, ἐπεὶ τάρπησαν ἐδωδῆς.
ὦ ξεῖνοι, τίνες ἐστέ; πόθεν πλεῖθʼ ὑγρὰ κέλευθα;
ἤ τι κατὰ πρῆξιν ἦ μαψιδίως ἀλάλησθε
οἷά τε ληιστῆρες ὑπεὶρ ἅλα, τοί τʼ ἀλόωνται
ψυχὰς παρθέμενοι κακὸν ἀλλοδαποῖσι φέροντες;
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα
θαρσήσας· αὐτὴ γὰρ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θάρσος Ἀθήνη
θῆχʼ, ἵνα μιν περὶ πατρὸς ἀποιχομένοιο ἔροιτο
ἠδʼ ἵνα μιν κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔχῃσιν·
ὦ Νέστορ Νηληϊάδη, μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,
εἴρεαι ὁππόθεν εἰμέν· ἐγὼ δέ κέ τοι καταλέξω.
ἡμεῖς ἐξ Ἰθάκης ὑπονηίου εἰλήλουθμεν·
πρῆξις δʼ ἥδʼ ἰδίη, οὐ δήμιος, ἣν ἀγορεύω.
πατρὸς ἐμοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ μετέρχομαι, ἤν που ἀκούσω,
δίου Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος, ὅν ποτέ φασι
σὺν σοὶ μαρνάμενον Τρώων πόλιν ἐξαλαπάξαι.
ἄλλους μὲν γὰρ πάντας, ὅσοι Τρωσὶν πολέμιζον,
πευθόμεθʼ, ἧχι ἕκαστος ἀπώλετο λυγρῷ ὀλέθρῳ,
κείνου δʼ αὖ καὶ ὄλεθρον ἀπευθέα θῆκε Κρονίων.
οὐ γάρ τις δύναται σάφα εἰπέμεν ὁππόθʼ ὄλωλεν,
εἴθʼ ὅ γʼ ἐπʼ ἠπείρου δάμη ἀνδράσι δυσμενέεσσιν,
εἴτε καὶ ἐν πελάγει μετὰ κύμασιν Ἀμφιτρίτης.
τοὔνεκα νῦν τὰ σὰ γούναθʼ ἱκάνομαι, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα
κείνου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον ἐνισπεῖν, εἴ που ὄπωπας
ὀφθαλμοῖσι τεοῖσιν ἢ ἄλλου μῦθον ἄκουσας
πλαζομένου· πέρι γάρ μιν ὀιζυρὸν τέκε μήτηρ.
μηδέ τί μʼ αἰδόμενος μειλίσσεο μηδʼ ἐλεαίρων,
ἀλλʼ εὖ μοι κατάλεξον ὅπως ἤντησας ὀπωπῆς.
λίσσομαι, εἴ ποτέ τοί τι πατὴρ ἐμός, ἐσθλὸς Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἢ ἔπος ἠέ τι ἔργον ὑποστὰς ἐξετέλεσσε
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχετε πήματʼ Ἀχαιοί,
τῶν νῦν μοι μνῆσαι, καί μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεί μʼ ἔμνησας ὀιζύος, ἣν ἐν ἐκείνῳ
δήμῳ ἀνέτλημεν μένος ἄσχετοι υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
ἠμὲν ὅσα ξὺν νηυσὶν ἐπʼ ἠεροειδέα πόντον
πλαζόμενοι κατὰ ληίδʼ, ὅπῃ ἄρξειεν Ἀχιλλεύς,
ἠδʼ ὅσα καὶ περὶ ἄστυ μέγα Πριάμοιο ἄνακτος
μαρνάμεθʼ· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα κατέκταθεν ὅσσοι ἄριστοι.
ἔνθα μὲν Αἴας κεῖται ἀρήιος, ἔνθα δʼ Ἀχιλλεύς,
ἔνθα δὲ Πάτροκλος, θεόφιν μήστωρ ἀτάλαντος,
ἔνθα δʼ ἐμὸς φίλος υἱός, ἅμα κρατερὸς καὶ ἀμύμων,
Ἀντίλοχος, πέρι μὲν θείειν ταχὺς ἠδὲ μαχητής·
ἄλλα τε πόλλʼ ἐπὶ τοῖς πάθομεν κακά· τίς κεν ἐκεῖνα
πάντα γε μυθήσαιτο καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων;
οὐδʼ εἰ πεντάετές γε καὶ ἑξάετες παραμίμνων
ἐξερέοις ὅσα κεῖθι πάθον κακὰ δῖοι Ἀχαιοί·
πρίν κεν ἀνιηθεὶς σὴν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκοιο.
εἰνάετες γάρ σφιν κακὰ ῥάπτομεν ἀμφιέποντες
παντοίοισι δόλοισι, μόγις δʼ ἐτέλεσσε Κρονίων.
ἔνθʼ οὔ τίς ποτε μῆτιν ὁμοιωθήμεναι ἄντην
ἤθελʼ, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὸν ἐνίκα δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
παντοίοισι δόλοισι, πατὴρ τεός, εἰ ἐτεόν γε
κείνου ἔκγονός ἐσσι· σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.
ἦ τοι γὰρ μῦθοί γε ἐοικότες, οὐδέ κε φαίης
ἄνδρα νεώτερον ὧδε ἐοικότα μυθήσασθαι.
ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι ἧος μὲν ἐγὼ καὶ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
οὔτε ποτʼ εἰν ἀγορῇ δίχʼ ἐβάζομεν οὔτʼ ἐνὶ βουλῇ,
ἀλλʼ ἕνα θυμὸν ἔχοντε νόῳ καὶ ἐπίφρονι βουλῇ
φραζόμεθʼ Ἀργείοισιν ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένοιτο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Πριάμοιο πόλιν διεπέρσαμεν αἰπήν,
βῆμεν δʼ ἐν νήεσσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐκέδασσεν Ἀχαιούς,
καὶ τότε δὴ Ζεὺς λυγρὸν ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μήδετο νόστον
Ἀργείοις, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι νοήμονες οὐδὲ δίκαιοι
πάντες ἔσαν· τῶ σφεων πολέες κακὸν οἶτον ἐπέσπον
μήνιος ἐξ ὀλοῆς γλαυκώπιδος ὀβριμοπάτρης.
ἥ τʼ ἔριν Ἀτρεΐδῃσι μετʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἔθηκε.
τὼ δὲ καλεσσαμένω ἀγορὴν ἐς πάντας Ἀχαιούς,
μάψ, ἀτὰρ οὐ κατὰ κόσμον, ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα,
οἱ δʼ ἦλθον οἴνῳ βεβαρηότες υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
μῦθον μυθείσθην, τοῦ εἵνεκα λαὸν ἄγειραν.
ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι Μενέλαος ἀνώγει πάντας Ἀχαιοὺς
νόστου μιμνήσκεσθαι ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης,
οὐδʼ Ἀγαμέμνονι πάμπαν ἑήνδανε· βούλετο γάρ ῥα
λαὸν ἐρυκακέειν ῥέξαι θʼ ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας,
ὡς τὸν Ἀθηναίης δεινὸν χόλον ἐξακέσαιτο,
νήπιος, οὐδὲ τὸ ᾔδη, ὃ οὐ πείσεσθαι ἔμελλεν·
οὐ γάρ τʼ αἶψα θεῶν τρέπεται νόος αἰὲν ἐόντων.
ὣς τὼ μὲν χαλεποῖσιν ἀμειβομένω ἐπέεσσιν
ἕστασαν· οἱ δʼ ἀνόρουσαν ἐυκνήμιδες Ἀχαιοὶ
ἠχῇ θεσπεσίῃ, δίχα δέ σφισιν ἥνδανε βουλή.
νύκτα μὲν ἀέσαμεν χαλεπὰ φρεσὶν ὁρμαίνοντες
ἀλλήλοις· ἐπὶ γὰρ Ζεὺς ἤρτυε πῆμα κακοῖο·
ἠῶθεν δʼ οἱ μὲν νέας ἕλκομεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν
κτήματά τʼ ἐντιθέμεσθα βαθυζώνους τε γυναῖκας.
ἡμίσεες δʼ ἄρα λαοὶ ἐρητύοντο μένοντες
αὖθι παρʼ Ἀτρεΐδῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι, ποιμένι λαῶν·
ἡμίσεες δʼ ἀναβάντες ἐλαύνομεν· αἱ δὲ μάλʼ ὦκα
ἔπλεον, ἐστόρεσεν δὲ θεὸς μεγακήτεα πόντον.
ἐς Τένεδον δʼ ἐλθόντες ἐρέξαμεν ἱρὰ θεοῖσιν,
οἴκαδε ἱέμενοι· Ζεὺς δʼ οὔ πω μήδετο νόστον,
σχέτλιος, ὅς ῥʼ ἔριν ὦρσε κακὴν ἔπι δεύτερον αὖτις.
οἱ μὲν ἀποστρέψαντες ἔβαν νέας ἀμφιελίσσας
ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἄνακτα δαΐφρονα, ποικιλομήτην,
αὖτις ἐπʼ Ἀτρεΐδῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι ἦρα φέροντες·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σὺν νηυσὶν ἀολλέσιν, αἵ μοι ἕποντο,
φεῦγον, ἐπεὶ γίγνωσκον, ὃ δὴ κακὰ μήδετο δαίμων.
φεῦγε δὲ Τυδέος υἱὸς ἀρήιος, ὦρσε δʼ ἑταίρους.
ὀψὲ δὲ δὴ μετὰ νῶι κίε ξανθὸς Μενέλαος,
ἐν Λέσβῳ δʼ ἔκιχεν δολιχὸν πλόον ὁρμαίνοντας,
ἢ καθύπερθε Χίοιο νεοίμεθα παιπαλοέσσης,
νήσου ἔπι Ψυρίης, αὐτὴν ἐπʼ ἀριστέρʼ ἔχοντες,
ἦ ὑπένερθε Χίοιο, παρʼ ἠνεμόεντα Μίμαντα.
ᾐτέομεν δὲ θεὸν φῆναι τέρας· αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ ἡμῖν
δεῖξε, καὶ ἠνώγει πέλαγος μέσον εἰς Ἐύβοιαν
τέμνειν, ὄφρα τάχιστα ὑπὲκ κακότητα φύγοιμεν.
ὦρτο δʼ ἐπὶ λιγὺς οὖρος ἀήμεναι· αἱ δὲ μάλʼ ὦκα
ἰχθυόεντα κέλευθα διέδραμον, ἐς δὲ Γεραιστὸν
ἐννύχιαι κατάγοντο· Ποσειδάωνι δὲ ταύρων
πόλλʼ ἐπὶ μῆρʼ ἔθεμεν, πέλαγος μέγα μετρήσαντες.
τέτρατον ἦμαρ ἔην, ὅτʼ ἐν Ἄργεϊ νῆας ἐίσας
Τυδεΐδεω ἕταροι Διομήδεος ἱπποδάμοιο
ἵστασαν· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε Πύλονδʼ ἔχον, οὐδέ ποτʼ ἔσβη
οὖρος, ἐπεὶ δὴ πρῶτα θεὸς προέηκεν ἀῆναι.
ὣς ἦλθον, φίλε τέκνον, ἀπευθής, οὐδέ τι οἶδα
κείνων, οἵ τʼ ἐσάωθεν Ἀχαιῶν οἵ τʼ ἀπόλοντο.
ὅσσα δʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι καθήμενος ἡμετέροισι
πεύθομαι, ἣ θέμις ἐστί, δαήσεαι, οὐδέ σε κεύσω.
εὖ μὲν Μυρμιδόνας φάσʼ ἐλθέμεν ἐγχεσιμώρους,
οὓς ἄγʼ Ἀχιλλῆος μεγαθύμου φαίδιμος υἱός,
εὖ δὲ Φιλοκτήτην, Ποιάντιον ἀγλαὸν υἱόν.
πάντας δʼ Ἰδομενεὺς Κρήτην εἰσήγαγʼ ἑταίρους,
οἳ φύγον ἐκ πολέμου, πόντος δέ οἱ οὔ τινʼ ἀπηύρα.
Ἀτρεΐδην δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ ἀκούετε, νόσφιν ἐόντες,
ὥς τʼ ἦλθʼ, ὥς τʼ Αἴγισθος ἐμήσατο λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι κεῖνος μὲν ἐπισμυγερῶς ἀπέτισεν·
ὡς ἀγαθὸν καὶ παῖδα καταφθιμένοιο λιπέσθαι
ἀνδρός, ἐπεὶ καὶ κεῖνος ἐτίσατο πατροφονῆα,
Αἴγισθον δολόμητιν, ὅ οἱ πατέρα κλυτὸν ἔκτα.
καὶ σὺ φίλος, μάλα γάρ σʼ ὁρόω καλόν τε μέγαν τε,
ἄλκιμος ἔσσʼ, ἵνα τίς σε καὶ ὀψιγόνων ἐὺ εἴπῃ.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ὦ Νέστορ Νηληϊάδη, μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,
καὶ λίην κεῖνος μὲν ἐτίσατο, καί οἱ Ἀχαιοὶ
οἴσουσι κλέος εὐρὺ καὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι·
αἲ γὰρ ἐμοὶ τοσσήνδε θεοὶ δύναμιν περιθεῖεν,
τίσασθαι μνηστῆρας ὑπερβασίης ἀλεγεινῆς,
οἵ τέ μοι ὑβρίζοντες ἀτάσθαλα μηχανόωνται.
ἀλλʼ οὔ μοι τοιοῦτον ἐπέκλωσαν θεοὶ ὄλβον,
πατρί τʼ ἐμῷ καὶ ἐμοί· νῦν δὲ χρὴ τετλάμεν ἔμπης.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεὶ δὴ ταῦτά μʼ ἀνέμνησας καὶ ἔειπες,
φασὶ μνηστῆρας σῆς μητέρος εἵνεκα πολλοὺς
ἐν μεγάροις ἀέκητι σέθεν κακὰ μηχανάασθαι·
εἰπέ μοι, ἠὲ ἑκὼν ὑποδάμνασαι, ἦ σέ γε λαοὶ
ἐχθαίρουσʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον, ἐπισπόμενοι θεοῦ ὀμφῇ.
τίς δʼ οἶδʼ εἴ κέ ποτέ σφι βίας ἀποτίσεται ἐλθών,
ἢ ὅ γε μοῦνος ἐὼν ἢ καὶ σύμπαντες Ἀχαιοί;
εἰ γάρ σʼ ὣς ἐθέλοι φιλέειν γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
ὡς τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆος περικήδετο κυδαλίμοιο
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχομεν ἄλγεʼ Ἀχαιοί—
οὐ γάρ πω ἴδον ὧδε θεοὺς ἀναφανδὰ φιλεῦντας,
ὡς κείνῳ ἀναφανδὰ παρίστατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη—
εἴ σʼ οὕτως ἐθέλοι φιλέειν κήδοιτό τε θυμῷ,
τῶ κέν τις κείνων γε καὶ ἐκλελάθοιτο γάμοιο.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ὦ γέρον, οὔ πω τοῦτο ἔπος τελέεσθαι ὀίω·
λίην γὰρ μέγα εἶπες· ἄγη μʼ ἔχει. οὐκ ἂν ἐμοί γε
ἐλπομένῳ τὰ γένοιτʼ, οὐδʼ εἰ θεοὶ ὣς ἐθέλοιεν.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
Τηλέμαχε, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων.
ῥεῖα θεός γʼ ἐθέλων καὶ τηλόθεν ἄνδρα σαώσαι.
βουλοίμην δʼ ἂν ἐγώ γε καὶ ἄλγεα πολλὰ μογήσας
οἴκαδέ τʼ ἐλθέμεναι καὶ νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἰδέσθαι,
ἢ ἐλθὼν ἀπολέσθαι ἐφέστιος, ὡς Ἀγαμέμνων
ὤλεθʼ ὑπʼ Αἰγίσθοιο δόλῳ καὶ ἧς ἀλόχοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι θάνατον μὲν ὁμοίιον οὐδὲ θεοί περ
καὶ φίλῳ ἀνδρὶ δύνανται ἀλαλκέμεν, ὁππότε κεν δὴ
μοῖρʼ ὀλοὴ καθέλῃσι τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Μέντορ, μηκέτι ταῦτα λεγώμεθα κηδόμενοί περ·
κείνῳ δʼ οὐκέτι νόστος ἐτήτυμος, ἀλλά οἱ ἤδη
φράσσαντʼ ἀθάνατοι θάνατον καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν.
νῦν δʼ ἐθέλω ἔπος ἄλλο μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι
Νέστορʼ, ἐπεὶ περὶ οἶδε δίκας ἠδὲ φρόνιν ἄλλων·
τρὶς γὰρ δή μίν φασιν ἀνάξασθαι γένεʼ ἀνδρῶν·
ὥς τέ μοι ἀθάνατος ἰνδάλλεται εἰσοράασθαι.
ὦ Νέστορ Νηληϊάδη, σὺ δʼ ἀληθὲς ἐνίσπες·
πῶς ἔθανʼ Ἀτρεΐδης εὐρὺ κρείων Ἀγαμέμνων;
ποῦ Μενέλαος ἔην; τίνα δʼ αὐτῷ μήσατʼ ὄλεθρον
Αἴγισθος δολόμητις, ἐπεὶ κτάνε πολλὸν ἀρείω;
ἦ οὐκ Ἄργεος ἦεν Ἀχαιικοῦ, ἀλλά πῃ ἄλλῃ
πλάζετʼ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους, ὁ δὲ θαρσήσας κατέπεφνε;
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, τέκνον, ἀληθέα πάντʼ ἀγορεύσω.
ἦ τοι μὲν τάδε καὐτὸς ὀίεαι, ὥς κεν ἐτύχθη,
εἰ ζωόν γʼ Αἴγισθον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔτετμεν
Ἀτρεΐδης Τροίηθεν ἰών, ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
τῶ κέ οἱ οὐδὲ θανόντι χυτὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἔχευαν,
ἀλλʼ ἄρα τόν γε κύνες τε καὶ οἰωνοὶ κατέδαψαν
κείμενον ἐν πεδίῳ ἑκὰς ἄστεος, οὐδέ κέ τίς μιν
κλαῦσεν Ἀχαιιάδων· μάλα γὰρ μέγα μήσατο ἔργον.
ἡμεῖς μὲν γὰρ κεῖθι πολέας τελέοντες ἀέθλους
ἥμεθʼ· ὁ δʼ εὔκηλος μυχῷ Ἄργεος ἱπποβότοιο
πόλλʼ Ἀγαμεμνονέην ἄλοχον θέλγεσκʼ ἐπέεσσιν.
ἡ δʼ ἦ τοι τὸ πρὶν μὲν ἀναίνετο ἔργον ἀεικὲς
δῖα Κλυταιμνήστρη· φρεσὶ γὰρ κέχρητʼ ἀγαθῇσι·
πὰρ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔην καὶ ἀοιδὸς ἀνήρ, ᾧ πόλλʼ ἐπέτελλεν
Ἀτρεΐδης Τροίηνδε κιὼν εἴρυσθαι ἄκοιτιν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή μιν μοῖρα θεῶν ἐπέδησε δαμῆναι,
δὴ τότε τὸν μὲν ἀοιδὸν ἄγων ἐς νῆσον ἐρήμην
κάλλιπεν οἰωνοῖσιν ἕλωρ καὶ κύρμα γενέσθαι,
τὴν δʼ ἐθέλων ἐθέλουσαν ἀνήγαγεν ὅνδε δόμονδε.
πολλὰ δὲ μηρίʼ ἔκηε θεῶν ἱεροῖς ἐπὶ βωμοῖς,
πολλὰ δʼ ἀγάλματʼ ἀνῆψεν, ὑφάσματά τε χρυσόν τε,
ἐκτελέσας μέγα ἔργον, ὃ οὔ ποτε ἔλπετο θυμῷ.
ἡμεῖς μὲν γὰρ ἅμα πλέομεν Τροίηθεν ἰόντες,
Ἀτρεΐδης καὶ ἐγώ, φίλα εἰδότες ἀλλήλοισιν·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε Σούνιον ἱρὸν ἀφικόμεθʼ, ἄκρον Ἀθηνέων,
ἔνθα κυβερνήτην Μενελάου Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων
οἷς ἀγανοῖς βελέεσσιν ἐποιχόμενος κατέπεφνε,
πηδάλιον μετὰ χερσὶ θεούσης νηὸς ἔχοντα,
Φρόντιν Ὀνητορίδην, ὃς ἐκαίνυτο φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων
νῆα κυβερνῆσαι, ὁπότε σπέρχοιεν ἄελλαι.
ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθα κατέσχετʼ, ἐπειγόμενός περ ὁδοῖο,
ὄφρʼ ἕταρον θάπτοι καὶ ἐπὶ κτέρεα κτερίσειεν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ καὶ κεῖνος ἰὼν ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον
ἐν νηυσὶ γλαφυρῇσι Μαλειάων ὄρος αἰπὺ
ἷξε θέων, τότε δὴ στυγερὴν ὁδὸν εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς
ἐφράσατο, λιγέων δʼ ἀνέμων ἐπʼ ἀυτμένα χεῦε,
κύματά τε τροφέοντο πελώρια, ἶσα ὄρεσσιν.
ἔνθα διατμήξας τὰς μὲν Κρήτῃ ἐπέλασσεν,
ἧχι Κύδωνες ἔναιον Ἰαρδάνου ἀμφὶ ῥέεθρα.
ἔστι δέ τις λισσὴ αἰπεῖά τε εἰς ἅλα πέτρη
ἐσχατιῇ Γόρτυνος ἐν ἠεροειδέι πόντῳ·
ἔνθα Νότος μέγα κῦμα ποτὶ σκαιὸν ῥίον ὠθεῖ,
ἐς Φαιστόν, μικρὸς δὲ λίθος μέγα κῦμʼ ἀποέργει.
αἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἔνθʼ ἦλθον, σπουδῇ δʼ ἤλυξαν ὄλεθρον
ἄνδρες, ἀτὰρ νῆάς γε ποτὶ σπιλάδεσσιν ἔαξαν
κύματʼ· ἀτὰρ τὰς πέντε νέας κυανοπρῳρείους
Αἰγύπτῳ ἐπέλασσε φέρων ἄνεμός τε καὶ ὕδωρ.
ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθα πολὺν βίοτον καὶ χρυσὸν ἀγείρων
ἠλᾶτο ξὺν νηυσὶ κατʼ ἀλλοθρόους ἀνθρώπους·
τόφρα δὲ ταῦτʼ Αἴγισθος ἐμήσατο οἴκοθι λυγρά.
ἑπτάετες δʼ ἤνασσε πολυχρύσοιο Μυκήνης,
κτείνας Ἀτρεΐδην, δέδμητο δὲ λαὸς ὑπʼ αὐτῷ.
τῷ δέ οἱ ὀγδοάτῳ κακὸν ἤλυθε δῖος Ὀρέστης
ἂψ ἀπʼ Ἀθηνάων, κατὰ δʼ ἔκτανε πατροφονῆα,
Αἴγισθον δολόμητιν, ὅ οἱ πατέρα κλυτὸν ἔκτα.
ἦ τοι ὁ τὸν κτείνας δαίνυ τάφον Ἀργείοισιν
μητρός τε στυγερῆς καὶ ἀνάλκιδος Αἰγίσθοιο·
αὐτῆμαρ δέ οἱ ἦλθε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος
πολλὰ κτήματʼ ἄγων, ὅσα οἱ νέες ἄχθος ἄειραν.
καὶ σύ, φίλος, μὴ δηθὰ δόμων ἄπο τῆλʼ ἀλάλησο,
κτήματά τε προλιπὼν ἄνδρας τʼ ἐν σοῖσι δόμοισιν
οὕτω ὑπερφιάλους, μή τοι κατὰ πάντα φάγωσιν
κτήματα δασσάμενοι, σὺ δὲ τηϋσίην ὁδὸν ἔλθῃς.
ἀλλʼ ἐς μὲν Μενέλαον ἐγὼ κέλομαι καὶ ἄνωγα
ἐλθεῖν· κεῖνος γὰρ νέον ἄλλοθεν εἰλήλουθεν,
ἐκ τῶν ἀνθρώπων, ὅθεν οὐκ ἔλποιτό γε θυμῷ
ἐλθέμεν, ὅν τινα πρῶτον ἀποσφήλωσιν ἄελλαι
ἐς πέλαγος μέγα τοῖον, ὅθεν τέ περ οὐδʼ οἰωνοὶ
αὐτόετες οἰχνεῦσιν, ἐπεὶ μέγα τε δεινόν τε.
ἀλλʼ ἴθι νῦν σὺν νηί τε σῇ καὶ σοῖς ἑτάροισιν·
εἰ δʼ ἐθέλεις πεζός, πάρα τοι δίφρος τε καὶ ἵπποι,
πὰρ δέ τοι υἷες ἐμοί, οἵ τοι πομπῆες ἔσονται
ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν, ὅθι ξανθὸς Μενέλαος.
λίσσεσθαι δέ μιν αὐτός, ἵνα νημερτὲς ἐνίσπῃ·
ψεῦδος δʼ οὐκ ἐρέει· μάλα γὰρ πεπνυμένος ἐστίν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, ἠέλιος δʼ ἄρʼ ἔδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθε.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
ὦ γέρον, ἦ τοι ταῦτα κατὰ μοῖραν κατέλεξας·
ἀλλʼ ἄγε τάμνετε μὲν γλώσσας, κεράασθε δὲ οἶνον,
ὄφρα Ποσειδάωνι καὶ ἄλλοις ἀθανάτοισιν
σπείσαντες κοίτοιο μεδώμεθα· τοῖο γὰρ ὥρη.
ἤδη γὰρ φάος οἴχεθʼ ὑπὸ ζόφον, οὐδὲ ἔοικεν·
δηθὰ θεῶν ἐν δαιτὶ θαασσέμεν, ἀλλὰ νέεσθαι.
ἦ ῥα Διὸς θυγάτηρ, οἱ δʼ ἔκλυον αὐδησάσης.
τοῖσι δὲ κήρυκες μὲν ὕδωρ ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἔχευαν,
κοῦροι δὲ κρητῆρας ἐπεστέψαντο ποτοῖο,
νώμησαν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπαρξάμενοι δεπάεσσι·
γλώσσας δʼ ἐν πυρὶ βάλλον, ἀνιστάμενοι δʼ ἐπέλειβον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιον θʼ, ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,
δὴ τότʼ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Τηλέμαχος θεοειδὴς
ἄμφω ἱέσθην κοίλην ἐπὶ νῆα νέεσθαι.
Νέστωρ δʼ αὖ κατέρυκε καθαπτόμενος ἐπέεσσιν·
Ζεὺς τό γʼ ἀλεξήσειε καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι,
ὡς ὑμεῖς παρʼ ἐμεῖο θοὴν ἐπὶ νῆα κίοιτε
ὥς τέ τευ ἦ παρὰ πάμπαν ἀνείμονος ἠδὲ πενιχροῦ,
ᾧ οὔ τι χλαῖναι καὶ ῥήγεα πόλλʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
οὔτʼ αὐτῷ μαλακῶς οὔτε ξείνοισιν ἐνεύδειν.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ πάρα μὲν χλαῖναι καὶ ῥήγεα καλά.
οὔ θην δὴ τοῦδʼ ἀνδρὸς Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱὸς
νηὸς ἐπʼ ἰκριόφιν καταλέξεται, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἐγώ γε
ζώω, ἔπειτα δὲ παῖδες ἐνὶ μεγάροισι λίπωνται,
ξείνους ξεινίζειν, ὅς τίς κʼ ἐμὰ δώμαθʼ ἵκηται.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
εὖ δὴ ταῦτά γʼ ἔφησθα, γέρον φίλε· σοὶ δὲ ἔοικεν
Τηλέμαχον πείθεσθαι, ἐπεὶ πολὺ κάλλιον οὕτως.
ἀλλʼ οὗτος μὲν νῦν σοὶ ἅμʼ ἕψεται, ὄφρα κεν εὕδῃ
σοῖσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν
εἶμʼ, ἵνα θαρσύνω θʼ ἑτάρους εἴπω τε ἕκαστα.
οἶος γὰρ μετὰ τοῖσι γεραίτερος εὔχομαι εἶναι·
οἱ δʼ ἄλλοι φιλότητι νεώτεροι ἄνδρες ἕπονται,
πάντες ὁμηλικίη μεγαθύμου Τηλεμάχοιο.
ἔνθα κε λεξαίμην κοίλῃ παρὰ νηὶ μελαίνῃ
νῦν· ἀτὰρ ἠῶθεν μετὰ Καύκωνας μεγαθύμους
εἶμʼ ἔνθα χρεῖός μοι ὀφέλλεται, οὔ τι νέον γε
οὐδʼ ὀλίγον. σὺ δὲ τοῦτον, ἐπεὶ τεὸν ἵκετο δῶμα,
πέμψον σὺν δίφρῳ τε καὶ υἱέι· δὸς δέ οἱ ἵππους,
οἵ τοι ἐλαφρότατοι θείειν καὶ κάρτος ἄριστοι.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη
φήνῃ εἰδομένη· θάμβος δʼ ἕλε πάντας ἰδόντας.
θαύμαζεν δʼ ὁ γεραιός, ὅπως ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσι·
Τηλεμάχου δʼ ἕλε χεῖρα, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
ὦ φίλος, οὔ σε ἔολπα κακὸν καὶ ἄναλκιν ἔσεσθαι,
εἰ δή τοι νέῳ ὧδε θεοὶ πομπῆες ἕπονται.
οὐ μὲν γάρ τις ὅδʼ ἄλλος Ὀλύμπια δώματʼ ἐχόντων,
ἀλλὰ Διὸς θυγάτηρ, κυδίστη Τριτογένεια,
ἥ τοι καὶ πατέρʼ ἐσθλὸν ἐν Ἀργείοισιν ἐτίμα.
ἀλλὰ ἄνασσʼ ἵληθι, δίδωθι δέ μοι κλέος ἐσθλόν,
αὐτῷ καὶ παίδεσσι καὶ αἰδοίῃ παρακοίτι·
σοὶ δʼ αὖ ἐγὼ ῥέξω βοῦν ἦνιν εὐρυμέτωπον
ἀδμήτην, ἣν οὔ πω ὑπὸ ζυγὸν ἤγαγεν ἀνήρ·
τήν τοι ἐγὼ ῥέξω χρυσὸν κέρασιν περιχεύας.
ὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος, τοῦ δʼ ἔκλυε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.
τοῖσιν δʼ ἡγεμόνευε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ,
υἱάσι καὶ γαμβροῖσιν, ἑὰ πρὸς δώματα καλά.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δώμαθʼ ἵκοντο ἀγακλυτὰ τοῖο ἄνακτος,
ἑξείης ἕζοντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε·
τοῖς δʼ ὁ γέρων ἐλθοῦσιν ἀνὰ κρητῆρα κέρασσεν
οἴνου ἡδυπότοιο, τὸν ἑνδεκάτῳ ἐνιαυτῷ
ὤιξεν ταμίη καὶ ἀπὸ κρήδεμνον ἔλυσε·
τοῦ ὁ γέρων κρητῆρα κεράσσατο, πολλὰ δʼ Ἀθήνῃ
εὔχετʼ ἀποσπένδων, κούρῃ Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιον θʼ, ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,
οἱ μὲν κακκείοντες ἔβαν οἶκόνδε ἕκαστος,
τὸν δʼ αὐτοῦ κοίμησε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ,
Τηλέμαχον, φίλον υἱὸν Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,
τρητοῖς ἐν λεχέεσσιν ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ ἐριδούπῳ,
πὰρʼ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐυμμελίην Πεισίστρατον, ὄρχαμον ἀνδρῶν,
ὅς οἱ ἔτʼ ἠίθεος παίδων ἦν ἐν μεγάροισιν·
αὐτὸς δʼ αὖτε καθεῦδε μυχῷ δόμου ὑψηλοῖο,
τῷ δʼ ἄλοχος δέσποινα λέχος πόρσυνε καὶ εὐνήν.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
ὤρνυτʼ ἄρʼ ἐξ εὐνῆφι Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ,
ἐκ δʼ ἐλθὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ ξεστοῖσι λίθοισιν,
οἵ οἱ ἔσαν προπάροιθε θυράων ὑψηλάων,
λευκοί, ἀποστίλβοντες ἀλείφατος· οἷς ἔπι μὲν πρὶν
Νηλεὺς ἵζεσκεν, θεόφιν μήστωρ ἀτάλαντος·
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἤδη κηρὶ δαμεὶς Ἄϊδόσδε βεβήκει,
Νέστωρ αὖ τότʼ ἐφῖζε Γερήνιος, οὖρος Ἀχαιῶν,
σκῆπτρον ἔχων. περὶ δʼ υἷες ἀολλέες ἠγερέθοντο
ἐκ θαλάμων ἐλθόντες, Ἐχέφρων τε Στρατίος τε
Περσεύς τʼ Ἄρητός τε καὶ ἀντίθεος Θρασυμήδης.
τοῖσι δʼ ἔπειθʼ ἕκτος Πεισίστρατος ἤλυθεν ἥρως,
πὰρ δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχον θεοείκελον εἷσαν ἄγοντες.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
καρπαλίμως μοι, τέκνα φίλα, κρηήνατʼ ἐέλδωρ,
ὄφρʼ ἦ τοι πρώτιστα θεῶν ἱλάσσομʼ Ἀθήνην,
ἥ μοι ἐναργὴς ἦλθε θεοῦ ἐς δαῖτα θάλειαν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ὁ μὲν πεδίονδʼ ἐπὶ βοῦν, ἴτω, ὄφρα τάχιστα
ἔλθῃσιν, ἐλάσῃ δὲ βοῶν ἐπιβουκόλος ἀνήρ·
εἷς δʼ ἐπὶ Τηλεμάχου μεγαθύμου νῆα μέλαιναν
πάντας ἰὼν ἑτάρους ἀγέτω, λιπέτω δὲ δύʼ οἴους·
εἷς δʼ αὖ χρυσοχόον Λαέρκεα δεῦρο κελέσθω
ἐλθεῖν, ὄφρα βοὸς χρυσὸν κέρασιν περιχεύῃ.
οἱ δʼ ἄλλοι μένετʼ αὐτοῦ ἀολλέες, εἴπατε δʼ εἴσω
δμῳῇσιν κατὰ δώματʼ ἀγακλυτὰ δαῖτα πένεσθαι,
ἕδρας τε ξύλα τʼ ἀμφὶ καὶ ἀγλαὸν οἰσέμεν ὕδωρ.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐποίπνυον. ἦλθε μὲν ἂρ βοῦς
ἐκ πεδίου, ἦλθον δὲ θοῆς παρὰ νηὸς ἐίσης
Τηλεμάχου ἕταροι μεγαλήτορος, ἦλθε δὲ χαλκεὺς
ὅπλʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἔχων χαλκήια, πείρατα τέχνης,
ἄκμονά τε σφῦράν τʼ ἐυποίητόν τε πυράγρην,
οἷσίν τε χρυσὸν εἰργάζετο· ἦλθε δʼ Ἀθήνη
ἱρῶν ἀντιόωσα. γέρων δʼ ἱππηλάτα Νέστωρ
χρυσὸν ἔδωχʼ· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα βοὸς κέρασιν περίχευεν
ἀσκήσας, ἵνʼ ἄγαλμα θεὰ κεχάροιτο ἰδοῦσα.
βοῦν δʼ ἀγέτην κεράων Στρατίος καὶ δῖος Ἐχέφρων.
χέρνιβα δέ σφʼ Ἄρητος ἐν ἀνθεμόεντι λέβητι
ἤλυθεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο φέρων, ἑτέρῃ δʼ ἔχεν οὐλὰς
ἐν κανέῳ πέλεκυν δὲ μενεπτόλεμος Θρασυμήδης
ὀξὺν ἔχων ἐν χειρὶ παρίστατο βοῦν ἐπικόψων.
Περσεὺς δʼ ἀμνίον εἶχε· γέρων δʼ ἱππηλάτα Νέστωρ
χέρνιβά τʼ οὐλοχύτας τε κατήρχετο, πολλὰ δʼ Ἀθήνῃ
εὔχετʼ ἀπαρχόμενος, κεφαλῆς τρίχας ἐν πυρὶ βάλλων.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ εὔξαντο καὶ οὐλοχύτας προβάλοντο,
αὐτίκα Νέστορος υἱὸς ὑπέρθυμος Θρασυμήδης
ἤλασεν ἄγχι στάς· πέλεκυς δʼ ἀπέκοψε τένοντας
αὐχενίους, λῦσεν δὲ βοὸς μένος. αἱ δʼ ὀλόλυξαν
θυγατέρες τε νυοί τε καὶ αἰδοίη παράκοιτις
Νέστορος, Εὐρυδίκη, πρέσβα Κλυμένοιο θυγατρῶν.
οἱ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀνελόντες ἀπὸ χθονὸς εὐρυοδείης
ἔσχον· ἀτὰρ σφάξεν Πεισίστρατος, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν.
τῆς δʼ ἐπεὶ ἐκ μέλαν αἷμα ῥύη, λίπε δʼ ὀστέα θυμός,
αἶψʼ ἄρα μιν διέχευαν, ἄφαρ δʼ ἐκ μηρία τάμνον
πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, κατά τε κνίσῃ ἐκάλυψαν
δίπτυχα ποιήσαντες, ἐπʼ αὐτῶν δʼ ὠμοθέτησαν.
καῖε δʼ ἐπὶ σχίζῃς ὁ γέρων, ἐπὶ δʼ αἴθοπα οἶνον
λεῖβε· νέοι δὲ παρʼ αὐτὸν ἔχον πεμπώβολα χερσίν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κατὰ μῆρʼ ἐκάη καὶ σπλάγχνα πάσαντο,
μίστυλλόν τʼ ἄρα τἆλλα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειραν,
ὤπτων δʼ ἀκροπόρους ὀβελοὺς ἐν χερσὶν ἔχοντες.
τόφρα δὲ Τηλέμαχον λοῦσεν καλὴ Πολυκάστη,
Νέστορος ὁπλοτάτη θυγάτηρ Νηληϊάδαο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ λοῦσέν τε καὶ ἔχρισεν λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν φᾶρος καλὸν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,
ἔκ ῥʼ ἀσαμίνθου βῆ δέμας ἀθανάτοισιν ὁμοῖος·
πὰρ δʼ ὅ γε Νέστορʼ ἰὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο, ποιμένα λαῶν.
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ὤπτησαν κρέʼ ὑπέρτερα καὶ ἐρύσαντο,
δαίνυνθʼ ἑζόμενοι· ἐπὶ δʼ ἀνέρες ἐσθλοὶ ὄροντο
οἶνον οἰνοχοεῦντες ἐνὶ χρυσέοις δεπάεσσιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
παῖδες ἐμοί, ἄγε Τηλεμάχῳ καλλίτριχας ἵππους
ζεύξαθʼ ὑφʼ ἅρματʼ ἄγοντες, ἵνα πρήσσῃσιν ὁδοῖο.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο,
καρπαλίμως δʼ ἔζευξαν ὑφʼ ἅρμασιν ὠκέας ἵππους.
ἐν δὲ γυνὴ ταμίη σῖτον καὶ οἶνον ἔθηκεν
ὄψα τε, οἷα ἔδουσι διοτρεφέες βασιλῆες.
ἂν δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος περικαλλέα βήσετο δίφρον·
πὰρ δʼ ἄρα Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν,
ἐς δίφρον τʼ ἀνέβαινε καὶ ἡνία λάζετο χερσί,
μάστιξεν δʼ ἐλάαν, τὼ δʼ οὐκ ἀέκοντε πετέσθην
ἐς πεδίον, λιπέτην δὲ Πύλου αἰπὺ πτολίεθρον.
οἱ δὲ πανημέριοι σεῖον ζυγὸν ἀμφὶς ἔχοντες.
δύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί,
ἐς Φηρὰς δʼ ἵκοντο Διοκλῆος ποτὶ δῶμα,
υἱέος Ὀρτιλόχοιο, τὸν Ἀλφειὸς τέκε παῖδα.
ἔνθα δὲ νύκτʼ ἄεσαν, ὁ δὲ τοῖς πὰρ ξείνια θῆκεν.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
ἵππους τε ζεύγνυντʼ ἀνά θʼ ἅρματα ποικίλʼ ἔβαινον·
ἐκ δʼ ἔλασαν προθύροιο καὶ αἰθούσης ἐριδούπου·
μάστιξεν δʼ ἐλάαν, τὼ δʼ οὐκ ἀέκοντε πετέσθην.
ἷξον δʼ ἐς πεδίον πυρηφόρον, ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα
ἦνον ὁδόν· τοῖον γὰρ ὑπέκφερον ὠκέες ἵπποι.
δύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί.

### Book 4

οἱ δʼ ἷξον κοίλην Λακεδαίμονα κητώεσσαν,
πρὸς δʼ ἄρα δώματʼ ἔλων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
τὸν δʼ εὗρον δαινύντα γάμον πολλοῖσιν ἔτῃσιν
υἱέος ἠδὲ θυγατρὸς ἀμύμονος ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
τὴν μὲν Ἀχιλλῆος ῥηξήνορος υἱέι πέμπεν·
ἐν Τροίῃ γὰρ πρῶτον ὑπέσχετο καὶ κατένευσε
δωσέμεναι, τοῖσιν δὲ θεοὶ γάμον ἐξετέλειον.
τὴν ἄρʼ ὅ γʼ ἔνθʼ ἵπποισι καὶ ἅρμασι πέμπε νέεσθαι
Μυρμιδόνων προτὶ ἄστυ περικλυτόν, οἷσιν ἄνασσεν.
υἱέι δὲ Σπάρτηθεν Ἀλέκτορος ἤγετο κούρην,
ὅς οἱ τηλύγετος γένετο κρατερὸς Μεγαπένθης
ἐκ δούλης· Ἑλένῃ δὲ θεοὶ γόνον οὐκέτʼ ἔφαινον,
ἐπεὶ δὴ τὸ πρῶτον ἐγείνατο παῖδʼ ἐρατεινήν,
Ἑρμιόνην, ἣ εἶδος ἔχε χρυσέης Ἀφροδίτης.
ὣς οἱ μὲν δαίνυντο καθʼ ὑψερεφὲς μέγα δῶμα
γείτονες ἠδὲ ἔται Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο,
τερπόμενοι· μετὰ δέ σφιν ἐμέλπετο θεῖος ἀοιδὸς
φορμίζων, δοιὼ δὲ κυβιστητῆρε κατʼ αὐτούς,
μολπῆς ἐξάρχοντος, ἐδίνευον κατὰ μέσσους.
τὼ δʼ αὖτʼ ἐν προθύροισι δόμων αὐτώ τε καὶ ἵππω,
Τηλέμαχός θʼ ἥρως καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱός,
στῆσαν· ὁ δὲ προμολὼν ἴδετο κρείων Ἐτεωνεύς,
ὀτρηρὸς θεράπων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο,
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἀγγελέων διὰ δώματα ποιμένι λαῶν,
ἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ξείνω δή τινε τώδε, διοτρεφὲς ὦ Μενέλαε,
ἄνδρε δύω, γενεῇ δὲ Διὸς μεγάλοιο ἔικτον.
ἀλλʼ εἴπʼ, ἤ σφωιν καταλύσομεν ὠκέας ἵππους,
ἦ ἄλλον πέμπωμεν ἱκανέμεν, ὅς κε φιλήσῃ.
τὸν δὲ μέγʼ ὀχθήσας προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
οὐ μὲν νήπιος ἦσθα, Βοηθοΐδη Ἐτεωνεῦ,
τὸ πρίν· ἀτὰρ μὲν νῦν γε πάϊς ὣς νήπια βάζεις.
ἦ μὲν δὴ νῶι ξεινήια πολλὰ φαγόντε
ἄλλων ἀνθρώπων δεῦρʼ ἱκόμεθʼ, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς
ἐξοπίσω περ παύσῃ ὀιζύος. ἀλλὰ λύʼ ἵππους
ξείνων, ἐς δʼ αὐτοὺς προτέρω ἄγε θοινηθῆναι.
ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δὲ μεγάροιο διέσσυτο, κέκλετο δʼ ἄλλους
ὀτρηροὺς θεράποντας ἅμα σπέσθαι ἑοῖ αὐτῷ.
οἱ δʼ ἵππους μὲν λῦσαν ὑπὸ ζυγοῦ ἱδρώοντας,
καὶ τοὺς μὲν κατέδησαν ἐφʼ ἱππείῃσι κάπῃσι,
πὰρ δʼ ἔβαλον ζειάς, ἀνὰ δὲ κρῖ λευκὸν ἔμιξαν,
ἅρματα δʼ ἔκλιναν πρὸς ἐνώπια παμφανόωντα,
αὐτοὺς δʼ εἰσῆγον θεῖον δόμον. οἱ δὲ ἰδόντες
θαύμαζον κατὰ δῶμα διοτρεφέος βασιλῆος·
ὥς τε γὰρ ἠελίου αἴγλη πέλεν ἠὲ σελήνης
δῶμα καθʼ ὑψερεφὲς Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τάρπησαν ὁρώμενοι ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
ἔς ῥʼ ἀσαμίνθους βάντες ἐυξέστας λούσαντο.
τοὺς δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δμῳαὶ λοῦσαν καὶ χρῖσαν ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα χλαίνας οὔλας βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,
ἔς ῥα θρόνους ἕζοντο παρʼ Ἀτρεΐδην Μενέλαον.
χέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα
καλῇ χρυσείῃ ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,
νίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.
σῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,
εἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων.
δαιτρὸς δὲ κρειῶν πίνακας παρέθηκεν ἀείρας
παντοίων, παρὰ δέ σφι τίθει χρύσεια κύπελλα.
τὼ καὶ δεικνύμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
σίτου θʼ ἅπτεσθον καὶ χαίρετον. αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
δείπνου πασσαμένω εἰρησόμεθʼ, οἵ τινές ἐστον
ἀνδρῶν· οὐ γὰρ σφῷν γε γένος ἀπόλωλε τοκήων,
ἀλλʼ ἀνδρῶν γένος ἐστὲ διοτρεφέων βασιλήων
σκηπτούχων, ἐπεὶ οὔ κε κακοὶ τοιούσδε τέκοιεν.
ὣς φάτο, καί σφιν νῶτα βοὸς παρὰ πίονα θῆκεν
ὄπτʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἑλών, τά ῥά οἱ γέρα πάρθεσαν αὐτῷ.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
δὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεε Νέστορος υἱόν,
ἄγχι σχὼν κεφαλήν, ἵνα μὴ πευθοίαθʼ οἱ ἄλλοι·
φράζεο, Νεστορίδη, τῷ ἐμῷ κεχαρισμένε θυμῷ,
χαλκοῦ τε στεροπὴν κὰδ δώματα ἠχήεντα
χρυσοῦ τʼ ἠλέκτρου τε καὶ ἀργύρου ἠδʼ ἐλέφαντος.
Ζηνός που τοιήδε γʼ Ὀλυμπίου ἔνδοθεν αὐλή,
ὅσσα τάδʼ ἄσπετα πολλά· σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.
τοῦ δʼ ἀγορεύοντος ξύνετο ξανθὸς Μενέλαος,
καί σφεας φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
τέκνα φίλʼ, ἦ τοι Ζηνὶ βροτῶν οὐκ ἄν τις ἐρίζοι·
ἀθάνατοι γὰρ τοῦ γε δόμοι καὶ κτήματʼ ἔασιν·
ἀνδρῶν δʼ ἤ κέν τίς μοι ἐρίσσεται, ἠὲ καὶ οὐκί,
κτήμασιν. ἦ γὰρ πολλὰ παθὼν καὶ πόλλʼ ἐπαληθεὶς
ἠγαγόμην ἐν νηυσὶ καὶ ὀγδοάτῳ ἔτει ἦλθον,
Κύπρον Φοινίκην τε καὶ Αἰγυπτίους ἐπαληθείς,
Αἰθίοπάς θʼ ἱκόμην καὶ Σιδονίους καὶ Ἐρεμβοὺς
καὶ Λιβύην, ἵνα τʼ ἄρνες ἄφαρ κεραοὶ τελέθουσι.
τρὶς γὰρ τίκτει μῆλα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτόν.
ἔνθα μὲν οὔτε ἄναξ ἐπιδευὴς οὔτε τι ποιμὴν
τυροῦ καὶ κρειῶν οὐδὲ γλυκεροῖο γάλακτος,
ἀλλʼ αἰεὶ παρέχουσιν ἐπηετανὸν γάλα θῆσθαι.
ἧος ἐγὼ περὶ κεῖνα πολὺν βίοτον συναγείρων
ἠλώμην, τῆός μοι ἀδελφεὸν ἄλλος ἔπεφνεν
λάθρῃ, ἀνωιστί, δόλῳ οὐλομένης ἀλόχοιο·
ὣς οὔ τοι χαίρων τοῖσδε κτεάτεσσιν ἀνάσσω.
καὶ πατέρων τάδε μέλλετʼ ἀκουέμεν, οἵ τινες ὑμῖν
εἰσίν, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὰ πάθον, καὶ ἀπώλεσα οἶκον
εὖ μάλα ναιετάοντα, κεχανδότα πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλά.
ὧν ὄφελον τριτάτην περ ἔχων ἐν δώμασι μοῖραν
ναίειν, οἱ δʼ ἄνδρες σόοι ἔμμεναι, οἳ τότʼ ὄλοντο
Τροίῃ ἐν εὐρείῃ ἑκὰς Ἄργεος ἱπποβότοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἔμπης πάντας μὲν ὀδυρόμενος καὶ ἀχεύων
πολλάκις ἐν μεγάροισι καθήμενος ἡμετέροισιν
ἄλλοτε μέν τε γόῳ φρένα τέρπομαι, ἄλλοτε δʼ αὖτε
παύομαι· αἰψηρὸς δὲ κόρος κρυεροῖο γόοιο.
τῶν πάντων οὐ τόσσον ὀδύρομαι, ἀχνύμενός περ,
ὡς ἑνός, ὅς τέ μοι ὕπνον ἀπεχθαίρει καὶ ἐδωδὴν
μνωομένῳ, ἐπεὶ οὔ τις Ἀχαιῶν τόσσʼ ἐμόγησεν,
ὅσσʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἐμόγησε καὶ ἤρατο. τῷ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔμελλεν
αὐτῷ κήδεʼ ἔσεσθαι, ἐμοὶ δʼ ἄχος αἰὲν ἄλαστον
κείνου, ὅπως δὴ δηρὸν ἀποίχεται, οὐδέ τι ἴδμεν,
ζώει ὅ γʼ ἦ τέθνηκεν. ὀδύρονταί νύ που αὐτὸν
Λαέρτης θʼ ὁ γέρων καὶ ἐχέφρων Πηνελόπεια
Τηλέμαχός θʼ, ὃν ἔλειπε νέον γεγαῶτʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
ὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἄρα πατρὸς ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο.
δάκρυ δʼ ἀπὸ βλεφάρων χαμάδις βάλε πατρὸς ἀκούσας,
χλαῖναν πορφυρέην ἄντʼ ὀφθαλμοῖιν ἀνασχὼν
ἀμφοτέρῃσιν χερσί. νόησε δέ μιν Μενέλαος,
μερμήριξε δʼ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
ἠέ μιν αὐτὸν πατρὸς ἐάσειε μνησθῆναι
ἦ πρῶτʼ ἐξερέοιτο ἕκαστά τε πειρήσαιτο.
ἧος ὁ ταῦθʼ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
ἐκ δʼ Ἑλένη θαλάμοιο θυώδεος ὑψορόφοιο
ἤλυθεν Ἀρτέμιδι χρυσηλακάτῳ ἐικυῖα.
τῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἅμʼ Ἀδρήστη κλισίην εὔτυκτον ἔθηκεν,
Ἀλκίππη δὲ τάπητα φέρεν μαλακοῦ ἐρίοιο,
Φυλὼ δʼ ἀργύρεον τάλαρον φέρε, τόν οἱ ἔθηκεν
Ἀλκάνδρη, Πολύβοιο δάμαρ, ὃς ἔναιʼ ἐνὶ Θήβῃς
Αἰγυπτίῃς, ὅθι πλεῖστα δόμοις ἐν κτήματα κεῖται·
ὃς Μενελάῳ δῶκε δύʼ ἀργυρέας ἀσαμίνθους,
δοιοὺς δὲ τρίποδας, δέκα δὲ χρυσοῖο τάλαντα.
χωρὶς δʼ αὖθʼ Ἑλένῃ ἄλοχος πόρε κάλλιμα δῶρα·
χρυσέην τʼ ἠλακάτην τάλαρόν θʼ ὑπόκυκλον ὄπασσεν
ἀργύρεον, χρυσῷ δʼ ἐπὶ χείλεα κεκράαντο.
τόν ῥά οἱ ἀμφίπολος Φυλὼ παρέθηκε φέρουσα
νήματος ἀσκητοῖο βεβυσμένον· αὐτὰρ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ
ἠλακάτη τετάνυστο ἰοδνεφὲς εἶρος ἔχουσα.
ἕζετο δʼ ἐν κλισμῷ, ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν.
αὐτίκα δʼ ἥ γʼ ἐπέεσσι πόσιν ἐρέεινεν ἕκαστα·
ἴδμεν δή, Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, οἵ τινες οἵδε
ἀνδρῶν εὐχετόωνται ἱκανέμεν ἡμέτερον δῶ;
ψεύσομαι ἦ ἔτυμον ἐρέω; κέλεται δέ με θυμός.
οὐ γάρ πώ τινά φημι ἐοικότα ὧδε ἰδέσθαι
οὔτʼ ἄνδρʼ οὔτε γυναῖκα, σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωσαν,
ὡς ὅδʼ Ὀδυσσῆος μεγαλήτορος υἷι ἔοικε,
Τηλεμάχῳ, τὸν ἔλειπε νέον γεγαῶτʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
κεῖνος ἀνήρ, ὅτʼ ἐμεῖο κυνώπιδος εἵνεκʼ Ἀχαιοὶ
ἤλθεθʼ ὑπὸ Τροίην πόλεμον θρασὺν ὁρμαίνοντες.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
οὕτω νῦν καὶ ἐγὼ νοέω, γύναι, ὡς σὺ ἐίσκεις·
κείνου γὰρ τοιοίδε πόδες τοιαίδε τε χεῖρες
ὀφθαλμῶν τε βολαὶ κεφαλή τʼ ἐφύπερθέ τε χαῖται.
καὶ νῦν ἦ τοι ἐγὼ μεμνημένος ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆι
μυθεόμην, ὅσα κεῖνος ὀιζύσας ἐμόγησεν
ἀμφʼ ἐμοί, αὐτὰρ ὁ πικρὸν ὑπʼ ὀφρύσι δάκρυον εἶβε,
χλαῖναν πορφυρέην ἄντʼ ὀφθαλμοῖιν ἀνασχών.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
κείνου μέν τοι ὅδʼ υἱὸς ἐτήτυμον, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·
ἀλλὰ σαόφρων ἐστί, νεμεσσᾶται δʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
ὧδʼ ἐλθὼν τὸ πρῶτον ἐπεσβολίας ἀναφαίνειν
ἄντα σέθεν, τοῦ νῶι θεοῦ ὣς τερπόμεθʼ αὐδῇ.
αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ προέηκε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ
τῷ ἅμα πομπὸν ἕπεσθαι· ἐέλδετο γάρ σε ἰδέσθαι,
ὄφρα οἱ ἤ τι ἔπος ὑποθήσεαι ἠέ τι ἔργον.
πολλὰ γὰρ ἄλγεʼ ἔχει πατρὸς πάϊς οἰχομένοιο
ἐν μεγάροις, ᾧ μὴ ἄλλοι ἀοσσητῆρες ἔωσιν,
ὡς νῦν Τηλεμάχῳ ὁ μὲν οἴχεται, οὐδέ οἱ ἄλλοι
εἴσʼ οἵ κεν κατὰ δῆμον ἀλάλκοιεν κακότητα.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ φίλου ἀνέρος υἱὸς ἐμὸν δῶ
ἵκεθʼ, ὃς εἵνεκʼ ἐμεῖο πολέας ἐμόγησεν ἀέθλους·
καί μιν ἔφην ἐλθόντα φιλησέμεν ἔξοχον ἄλλων
Ἀργείων, εἰ νῶιν ὑπεὶρ ἅλα νόστον ἔδωκε
νηυσὶ θοῇσι γενέσθαι Ὀλύμπιος εὐρύοπα Ζεύς.
καί κέ οἱ Ἄργεϊ νάσσα πόλιν καὶ δώματʼ ἔτευξα,
ἐξ Ἰθάκης ἀγαγὼν σὺν κτήμασι καὶ τέκεϊ ᾧ
καὶ πᾶσιν λαοῖσι, μίαν πόλιν ἐξαλαπάξας,
αἳ περιναιετάουσιν, ἀνάσσονται δʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ.
καί κε θάμʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἐόντες ἐμισγόμεθʼ· οὐδέ κεν ἡμέας
ἄλλο διέκρινεν φιλέοντέ τε τερπομένω τε,
πρίν γʼ ὅτε δὴ θανάτοιο μέλαν νέφος ἀμφεκάλυψεν.
ἀλλὰ τὰ μέν που μέλλεν ἀγάσσεσθαι θεὸς αὐτός,
ὃς κεῖνον δύστηνον ἀνόστιμον οἶον ἔθηκεν.
ὣς φάτο, τοῖσι δὲ πᾶσιν ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο.
κλαῖε μὲν Ἀργείη Ἑλένη, Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα,
κλαῖε δὲ Τηλέμαχός τε καὶ Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος,
οὐδʼ ἄρα Νέστορος υἱὸς ἀδακρύτω ἔχεν ὄσσε·
μνήσατο γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονος Ἀντιλόχοιο,
τόν ῥʼ Ἠοῦς ἔκτεινε φαεινῆς ἀγλαὸς υἱός·
τοῦ ὅ γʼ ἐπιμνησθεὶς ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευεν·
Ἀτρεΐδη, περὶ μέν σε βροτῶν πεπνυμένον εἶναι
Νέστωρ φάσχʼ ὁ γέρων, ὅτʼ ἐπιμνησαίμεθα σεῖο
οἷσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι, καὶ ἀλλήλους ἐρέοιμεν.
καὶ νῦν, εἴ τί που ἔστι, πίθοιό μοι· οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γε
τέρπομʼ ὀδυρόμενος μεταδόρπιος, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἠὼς
ἔσσεται ἠριγένεια· νεμεσσῶμαί γε μὲν οὐδὲν
κλαίειν ὅς κε θάνῃσι βροτῶν καὶ πότμον ἐπίσπῃ.
τοῦτό νυ καὶ γέρας οἶον ὀιζυροῖσι βροτοῖσιν,
κείρασθαί τε κόμην βαλέειν τʼ ἀπὸ δάκρυ παρειῶν.
καὶ γὰρ ἐμὸς τέθνηκεν ἀδελφεός, οὔ τι κάκιστος
Ἀργείων· μέλλεις δὲ σὺ ἴδμεναι· οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γε
ἤντησʼ οὐδὲ ἴδον· περὶ δʼ ἄλλων φασὶ γενέσθαι
Ἀντίλοχον, πέρι μὲν θείειν ταχὺν ἠδὲ μαχητήν.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεὶ τόσα εἶπες, ὅσʼ ἂν πεπνυμένος ἀνὴρ
εἴποι καὶ ῥέξειε, καὶ ὃς προγενέστερος εἴη·
τοίου γὰρ καὶ πατρός, ὃ καὶ πεπνυμένα βάζεις,
ῥεῖα δʼ ἀρίγνωτος γόνος ἀνέρος ᾧ τε Κρονίων
ὄλβον ἐπικλώσῃ γαμέοντί τε γεινομένῳ τε,
ὡς νῦν Νέστορι δῶκε διαμπερὲς ἤματα πάντα
αὐτὸν μὲν λιπαρῶς γηρασκέμεν ἐν μεγάροισιν,
υἱέας αὖ πινυτούς τε καὶ ἔγχεσιν εἶναι ἀρίστους.
ἡμεῖς δὲ κλαυθμὸν μὲν ἐάσομεν, ὃς πρὶν ἐτύχθη,
δόρπου δʼ ἐξαῦτις μνησώμεθα, χερσὶ δʼ ἐφʼ ὕδωρ
χευάντων. μῦθοι δὲ καὶ ἠῶθέν περ ἔσονται
Τηλεμάχῳ καὶ ἐμοὶ διαειπέμεν ἀλλήλοισιν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀσφαλίων δʼ ἄρʼ ὕδωρ ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἔχευεν,
ὀτρηρὸς θεράπων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
ἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησʼ Ἑλένη Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα·
αὐτίκʼ ἄρʼ εἰς οἶνον βάλε φάρμακον, ἔνθεν ἔπινον,
νηπενθές τʼ ἄχολόν τε, κακῶν ἐπίληθον ἁπάντων.
ὃς τὸ καταβρόξειεν, ἐπὴν κρητῆρι μιγείη,
οὔ κεν ἐφημέριός γε βάλοι κατὰ δάκρυ παρειῶν,
οὐδʼ εἴ οἱ κατατεθναίη μήτηρ τε πατήρ τε,
οὐδʼ εἴ οἱ προπάροιθεν ἀδελφεὸν ἢ φίλον υἱὸν
χαλκῷ δηιόῳεν, ὁ δʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῷτο.
τοῖα Διὸς θυγάτηρ ἔχε φάρμακα μητιόεντα,
ἐσθλά, τά οἱ Πολύδαμνα πόρεν, Θῶνος παράκοιτις
Αἰγυπτίη, τῇ πλεῖστα φέρει ζείδωρος ἄρουρα
φάρμακα, πολλὰ μὲν ἐσθλὰ μεμιγμένα πολλὰ δὲ λυγρά·
ἰητρὸς δὲ ἕκαστος ἐπιστάμενος περὶ πάντων
ἀνθρώπων· ἦ γὰρ Παιήονός εἰσι γενέθλης.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐνέηκε κέλευσέ τε οἰνοχοῆσαι,
ἐξαῦτις μύθοισιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπεν·
Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφὲς ἠδὲ καὶ οἵδε
ἀνδρῶν ἐσθλῶν παῖδες· ἀτὰρ θεὸς ἄλλοτε ἄλλῳ
Ζεὺς ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε διδοῖ· δύναται γὰρ ἅπαντα·
ἦ τοι νῦν δαίνυσθε καθήμενοι ἐν μεγάροισι
καὶ μύθοις τέρπεσθε· ἐοικότα γὰρ καταλέξω.
πάντα μὲν οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ὀνομήνω,
ὅσσοι Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονός εἰσιν ἄεθλοι·
ἀλλʼ οἷον τόδʼ ἔρεξε καὶ ἔτλη καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχετε πήματʼ Ἀχαιοί.
αὐτόν μιν πληγῇσιν ἀεικελίῃσι δαμάσσας,
σπεῖρα κάκʼ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισι βαλών, οἰκῆι ἐοικώς,
ἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων κατέδυ πόλιν εὐρυάγυιαν·
ἄλλῳ δʼ αὐτὸν φωτὶ κατακρύπτων ἤισκε,
δέκτῃ, ὃς οὐδὲν τοῖος ἔην ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν.
τῷ ἴκελος κατέδυ Τρώων πόλιν, οἱ δʼ ἀβάκησαν
πάντες· ἐγὼ δέ μιν οἴη ἀνέγνων τοῖον ἐόντα,
καί μιν ἀνηρώτων· ὁ δὲ κερδοσύνῃ ἀλέεινεν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή μιν ἐγὼ λόεον καὶ χρῖον ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσα καὶ ὤμοσα καρτερὸν ὅρκον
μὴ μὲν πρὶν Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ Τρώεσσʼ ἀναφῆναι,
πρίν γε τὸν ἐς νῆάς τε θοὰς κλισίας τʼ ἀφικέσθαι,
καὶ τότε δή μοι πάντα νόον κατέλεξεν Ἀχαιῶν.
πολλοὺς δὲ Τρώων κτείνας ταναήκεϊ χαλκῷ
ἦλθε μετʼ Ἀργείους, κατὰ δὲ φρόνιν ἤγαγε πολλήν.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλαι Τρῳαὶ λίγʼ ἐκώκυον· αὐτὰρ ἐμὸν κῆρ
χαῖρʼ, ἐπεὶ ἤδη μοι κραδίη τέτραπτο νέεσθαι
ἂψ οἶκόνδʼ, ἄτην δὲ μετέστενον, ἣν Ἀφροδίτη
δῶχʼ, ὅτε μʼ ἤγαγε κεῖσε φίλης ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης,
παῖδά τʼ ἐμὴν νοσφισσαμένην θάλαμόν τε πόσιν τε
οὔ τευ δευόμενον, οὔτʼ ἂρ φρένας οὔτε τι εἶδος.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
ναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε πάντα, γύναι, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.
ἤδη μὲν πολέων ἐδάην βουλήν τε νόον τε
ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, πολλὴν δʼ ἐπελήλυθα γαῖαν·
ἀλλʼ οὔ πω τοιοῦτον ἐγὼν ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
οἷον Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος ἔσκε φίλον κῆρ.
οἷον καὶ τόδʼ ἔρεξε καὶ ἔτλη καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ
ἵππῳ ἔνι ξεστῷ, ἵνʼ ἐνήμεθα πάντες ἄριστοι
Ἀργείων Τρώεσσι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φέροντες.
ἦλθες ἔπειτα σὺ κεῖσε· κελευσέμεναι δέ σʼ ἔμελλε
δαίμων, ὃς Τρώεσσιν ἐβούλετο κῦδος ὀρέξαι·
καί τοι Δηΐφοβος θεοείκελος ἕσπετʼ ἰούσῃ.
τρὶς δὲ περίστειξας κοῖλον λόχον ἀμφαφόωσα,
ἐκ δʼ ὀνομακλήδην Δαναῶν ὀνόμαζες ἀρίστους,
πάντων Ἀργείων φωνὴν ἴσκουσʼ ἀλόχοισιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καὶ Τυδεΐδης καὶ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἥμενοι ἐν μέσσοισιν ἀκούσαμεν ὡς ἐβόησας.
νῶι μὲν ἀμφοτέρω μενεήναμεν ὁρμηθέντε
ἢ ἐξελθέμεναι, ἢ ἔνδοθεν αἶψʼ ὑπακοῦσαι·
ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατέρυκε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱεμένω περ.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀκὴν ἔσαν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
Ἄντικλος δὲ σέ γʼ οἶος ἀμείψασθαι ἐπέεσσιν
ἤθελεν. ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἐπὶ μάστακα χερσὶ πίεζεν
νωλεμέως κρατερῇσι, σάωσε δὲ πάντας Ἀχαιούς·
τόφρα δʼ ἔχʼ, ὄφρα σε νόσφιν ἀπήγαγε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
ἄλγιον· οὐ γάρ οἵ τι τάδʼ ἤρκεσε λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον,
οὐδʼ εἴ οἱ κραδίη γε σιδηρέη ἔνδοθεν ἦεν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ εἰς εὐνὴν τράπεθʼ ἡμέας, ὄφρα καὶ ἤδη
ὕπνῳ ὕπο γλυκερῷ ταρπώμεθα κοιμηθέντες.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀργείη δʼ Ἑλένη δμῳῇσι κέλευσεν
δέμνιʼ ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ θέμεναι καὶ ῥήγεα καλὰ
πορφύρεʼ ἐμβαλέειν στορέσαι τʼ ἐφύπερθε τάπητας,
χλαίνας τʼ ἐνθέμεναι οὔλας καθύπερθεν ἕσασθαι.
αἱ δʼ ἴσαν ἐκ μεγάροιο δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσαι,
δέμνια δὲ στόρεσαν· ἐκ δὲ ξείνους ἄγε κῆρυξ.
οἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐν προδόμῳ δόμου αὐτόθι κοιμήσαντο,
Τηλέμαχός θʼ ἥρως καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱός·
Ἀτρεΐδης δὲ καθεῦδε μυχῷ δόμου ὑψηλοῖο,
πὰρ δʼ Ἑλένη τανύπεπλος ἐλέξατο, δῖα γυναικῶν.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
ὤρνυτʼ ἄρʼ ἐξ εὐνῆφι βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος
εἵματα ἑσσάμενος, περὶ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτʼ ὤμῳ,
ποσσὶ δʼ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο θεῷ ἐναλίγκιος ἄντην,
Τηλεμάχῳ δὲ παρῖζεν, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
τίπτε δέ σε χρειὼ δεῦρʼ ἤγαγε, Τηλέμαχʼ ἥρως,
ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν, ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης;
δήμιον ἦ ἴδιον; τόδε μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
ἤλυθον, εἴ τινά μοι κληηδόνα πατρὸς ἐνίσποις.
ἐσθίεταί μοι οἶκος, ὄλωλε δὲ πίονα ἔργα,
δυσμενέων δʼ ἀνδρῶν πλεῖος δόμος, οἵ τέ μοι αἰεὶ
μῆλʼ ἁδινὰ σφάζουσι καὶ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς,
μητρὸς ἐμῆς μνηστῆρες ὑπέρβιον ὕβριν ἔχοντες.
τοὔνεκα νῦν τὰ σὰ γούναθʼ ἱκάνομαι, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα
κείνου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον ἐνισπεῖν, εἴ που ὄπωπας
ὀφθαλμοῖσι τεοῖσιν ἢ ἄλλου μῦθον ἄκουσας
πλαζομένου· περὶ γάρ μιν ὀιζυρὸν τέκε μήτηρ.
μηδέ τί μʼ αἰδόμενος μειλίσσεο μηδʼ ἐλεαίρων,
ἀλλʼ εὖ μοι κατάλεξον ὅπως ἤντησας ὀπωπῆς.
λίσσομαι, εἴ ποτέ τοί τι πατὴρ ἐμός, ἐσθλὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἢ ἔπος ἠέ τι ἔργον ὑποστὰς ἐξετέλεσσε
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχετε πήματʼ Ἀχαιοί,
τῶν νῦν μοι μνῆσαι, καί μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες.
τὸν δὲ μέγʼ ὀχθήσας προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ κρατερόφρονος ἀνδρὸς ἐν εὐνῇ
ἤθελον εὐνηθῆναι ἀνάλκιδες αὐτοὶ ἐόντες.
ὡς δʼ ὁπότʼ ἐν ξυλόχῳ ἔλαφος κρατεροῖο λέοντος
νεβροὺς κοιμήσασα νεηγενέας γαλαθηνοὺς
κνημοὺς ἐξερέῃσι καὶ ἄγκεα ποιήεντα
βοσκομένη, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα ἑὴν εἰσήλυθεν εὐνήν,
ἀμφοτέροισι δὲ τοῖσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφῆκεν,
ὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κείνοισιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφήσει.
αἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,
τοῖος ἐών, οἷός ποτʼ ἐυκτιμένῃ ἐνὶ Λέσβῳ
ἐξ ἔριδος Φιλομηλεΐδῃ ἐπάλαισεν ἀναστάς,
κὰδ δʼ ἔβαλε κρατερῶς, κεχάροντο δὲ πάντες Ἀχαιοί,
τοῖος ἐὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμιλήσειεν Ὀδυσσεύς·
πάντες κʼ ὠκύμοροί τε γενοίατο πικρόγαμοί τε.
ταῦτα δʼ ἅ μʼ εἰρωτᾷς καὶ λίσσεαι, οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε
ἄλλα παρὲξ εἴποιμι παρακλιδόν, οὐδʼ ἀπατήσω,
ἀλλὰ τὰ μέν μοι ἔειπε γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής,
τῶν οὐδέν τοι ἐγὼ κρύψω ἔπος οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω.
Αἰγύπτῳ μʼ ἔτι δεῦρο θεοὶ μεμαῶτα νέεσθαι
ἔσχον, ἐπεὶ οὔ σφιν ἔρεξα τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας.
οἱ δʼ αἰεὶ βούλοντο θεοὶ μεμνῆσθαι ἐφετμέων.
νῆσος ἔπειτά τις ἔστι πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ
Αἰγύπτου προπάροιθε, Φάρον δέ ἑ κικλήσκουσι,
τόσσον ἄνευθʼ ὅσσον τε πανημερίη γλαφυρὴ νηῦς
ἤνυσεν, ᾗ λιγὺς οὖρος ἐπιπνείῃσιν ὄπισθεν·
ἐν δὲ λιμὴν ἐύορμος, ὅθεν τʼ ἀπὸ νῆας ἐίσας
ἐς πόντον βάλλουσιν, ἀφυσσάμενοι μέλαν ὕδωρ.
ἔνθα μʼ ἐείκοσιν ἤματʼ ἔχον θεοί, οὐδέ ποτʼ οὖροι
πνείοντες φαίνονθʼ ἁλιαέες, οἵ ῥά τε νηῶν
πομπῆες γίγνονται ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.
καί νύ κεν ἤια πάντα κατέφθιτο καὶ μένεʼ ἀνδρῶν,
εἰ μή τίς με θεῶν ὀλοφύρατο καί μʼ ἐσάωσε,
Πρωτέος ἰφθίμου θυγάτηρ ἁλίοιο γέροντος,
Εἰδοθέη· τῇ γάρ ῥα μάλιστά γε θυμὸν ὄρινα.
ἥ μʼ οἴῳ ἔρροντι συνήντετο νόσφιν ἑταίρων·
αἰεὶ γὰρ περὶ νῆσον ἀλώμενοι ἰχθυάασκον
γναμπτοῖς ἀγκίστροισιν, ἔτειρε δὲ γαστέρα λιμός.
ἡ δέ μευ ἄγχι στᾶσα ἔπος φάτο φώνησέν τε·
νήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖνε, λίην τόσον ἠδὲ χαλίφρων,
ἦε ἑκὼν μεθίεις καὶ τέρπεαι ἄλγεα πάσχων;
ὡς δὴ δήθʼ ἐνὶ νήσῳ ἐρύκεαι, οὐδέ τι τέκμωρ
εὑρέμεναι δύνασαι, μινύθει δέ τοι ἦτορ ἑταίρων.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ἐκ μέν τοι ἐρέω, ἥ τις σύ πέρ ἐσσι θεάων,
ὡς ἐγὼ οὔ τι ἑκὼν κατερύκομαι, ἀλλά νυ μέλλω
ἀθανάτους ἀλιτέσθαι, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.
ἀλλὰ σύ πέρ μοι εἰπέ, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα ἴσασιν,
ὅς τίς μʼ ἀθανάτων πεδάᾳ καὶ ἔδησε κελεύθου,
νόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσομαι ἰχθυόεντα.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
πωλεῖταί τις δεῦρο γέρων ἅλιος νημερτὴς
ἀθάνατος Πρωτεὺς Αἰγύπτιος, ὅς τε θαλάσσης
πάσης βένθεα οἶδε, Ποσειδάωνος ὑποδμώς·
τὸν δέ τʼ ἐμόν φασιν πατέρʼ ἔμμεναι ἠδὲ τεκέσθαι.
τόν γʼ εἴ πως σὺ δύναιο λοχησάμενος λελαβέσθαι,
ὅς κέν τοι εἴπῃσιν ὁδὸν καὶ μέτρα κελεύθου
νόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσεαι ἰχθυόεντα.
καὶ δέ κέ τοι εἴπῃσι, διοτρεφές, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα,
ὅττι τοι ἐν μεγάροισι κακόν τʼ ἀγαθόν τε τέτυκται
οἰχομένοιο σέθεν δολιχὴν ὁδὸν ἀργαλέην τε.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
αὐτὴ νῦν φράζευ σὺ λόχον θείοιο γέροντος,
μή πώς με προϊδὼν ἠὲ προδαεὶς ἀλέηται·
ἀργαλέος γάρ τʼ ἐστὶ θεὸς βροτῷ ἀνδρὶ δαμῆναι.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
ἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος μέσον οὐρανὸν ἀμφιβεβήκῃ,
τῆμος ἄρʼ ἐξ ἁλὸς εἶσι γέρων ἅλιος νημερτὴς
πνοιῇ ὕπο Ζεφύροιο μελαίνῃ φρικὶ καλυφθείς,
ἐκ δʼ ἐλθὼν κοιμᾶται ὑπὸ σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσιν·
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν φῶκαι νέποδες καλῆς ἁλοσύδνης
ἁθρόαι εὕδουσιν, πολιῆς ἁλὸς ἐξαναδῦσαι,
πικρὸν ἀποπνείουσαι ἁλὸς πολυβενθέος ὀδμήν.
ἔνθα σʼ ἐγὼν ἀγαγοῦσα ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν
εὐνάσω ἑξείης· σὺ δʼ ἐὺ κρίνασθαι ἑταίρους
τρεῖς, οἵ τοι παρὰ νηυσὶν ἐυσσέλμοισιν ἄριστοι.
πάντα δέ τοι ἐρέω ὀλοφώια τοῖο γέροντος.
φώκας μέν τοι πρῶτον ἀριθμήσει καὶ ἔπεισιν·
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν πάσας πεμπάσσεται ἠδὲ ἴδηται,
λέξεται ἐν μέσσῃσι νομεὺς ὣς πώεσι μήλων.
τὸν μὲν ἐπὴν δὴ πρῶτα κατευνηθέντα ἴδησθε,
καὶ τότʼ ἔπειθʼ ὑμῖν μελέτω κάρτος τε βίη τε,
αὖθι δʼ ἔχειν μεμαῶτα καὶ ἐσσύμενόν περ ἀλύξαι.
πάντα δὲ γιγνόμενος πειρήσεται, ὅσσʼ ἐπὶ γαῖαν
ἑρπετὰ γίγνονται, καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ θεσπιδαὲς πῦρ·
ὑμεῖς δʼ ἀστεμφέως ἐχέμεν μᾶλλόν τε πιέζειν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε κεν δή σʼ αὐτὸς ἀνείρηται ἐπέεσσι,
τοῖος ἐὼν οἷόν κε κατευνηθέντα ἴδησθε,
καὶ τότε δὴ σχέσθαι τε βίης λῦσαί τε γέροντα,
ἥρως, εἴρεσθαι δέ, θεῶν ὅς τίς σε χαλέπτει,
νόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσεαι ἰχθυόεντα.
ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ὑπὸ πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆας, ὅθʼ ἕστασαν ἐν ψαμάθοισιν,
ἤια· πολλὰ δέ μοι κραδίη πόρφυρε κιόντι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
δόρπον θʼ ὁπλισάμεσθʼ, ἐπί τʼ ἤλυθεν ἀμβροσίη νύξ·
δὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
καὶ τότε δὴ παρὰ θῖνα θαλάσσης εὐρυπόροιο
ἤια πολλὰ θεοὺς γουνούμενος· αὐτὰρ ἑταίρους
τρεῖς ἄγον, οἷσι μάλιστα πεποίθεα πᾶσαν ἐπʼ ἰθύν.
τόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ ἥ γʼ ὑποδῦσα θαλάσσης εὐρέα κόλπον
τέσσαρα φωκάων ἐκ πόντου δέρματʼ ἔνεικε·
πάντα δʼ ἔσαν νεόδαρτα· δόλον δʼ ἐπεμήδετο πατρί.
εὐνὰς δʼ ἐν ψαμάθοισι διαγλάψασʼ ἁλίῃσιν
ἧστο μένουσʼ· ἡμεῖς δὲ μάλα σχεδὸν ἤλθομεν αὐτῆς·
ἑξείης δʼ εὔνησε, βάλεν δʼ ἐπὶ δέρμα ἑκάστῳ.
ἔνθα κεν αἰνότατος λόχος ἔπλετο· τεῖρε γὰρ αἰνῶς
φωκάων ἁλιοτρεφέων ὀλοώτατος ὀδμή·
τίς γάρ κʼ εἰναλίῳ παρὰ κήτεϊ κοιμηθείη;
ἀλλʼ αὐτὴ ἐσάωσε καὶ ἐφράσατο μέγʼ ὄνειαρ·
ἀμβροσίην ὑπὸ ῥῖνα ἑκάστῳ θῆκε φέρουσα
ἡδὺ μάλα πνείουσαν, ὄλεσσε δὲ κήτεος ὀδμήν.
πᾶσαν δʼ ἠοίην μένομεν τετληότι θυμῷ·
φῶκαι δʼ ἐξ ἁλὸς ἦλθον ἀολλέες. αἱ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἑξῆς εὐνάζοντο παρὰ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης·
ἔνδιος δʼ ὁ γέρων ἦλθʼ ἐξ ἁλός, εὗρε δὲ φώκας
ζατρεφέας, πάσας δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπῴχετο, λέκτο δʼ ἀριθμόν·
ἐν δʼ ἡμέας πρώτους λέγε κήτεσιν, οὐδέ τι θυμῷ
ὠΐσθη δόλον εἶναι· ἔπειτα δὲ λέκτο καὶ αὐτός.
ἡμεῖς δὲ ἰάχοντες ἐπεσσύμεθʼ, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας
βάλλομεν· οὐδʼ ὁ γέρων δολίης ἐπελήθετο τέχνης,
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι πρώτιστα λέων γένετʼ ἠυγένειος,
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα δράκων καὶ πάρδαλις ἠδὲ μέγας σῦς·
γίγνετο δʼ ὑγρὸν ὕδωρ καὶ δένδρεον ὑψιπέτηλον·
ἡμεῖς δʼ ἀστεμφέως ἔχομεν τετληότι θυμῷ.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἀνίαζʼ ὁ γέρων ὀλοφώια εἰδώς,
καὶ τότε δή μʼ ἐπέεσσιν ἀνειρόμενος προσέειπε·
τίς νύ τοι, Ἀτρέος υἱέ, θεῶν συμφράσσατο βουλάς,
ὄφρα μʼ ἕλοις ἀέκοντα λοχησάμενος; τέο σε χρή;
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
οἶσθα, γέρον, τί με ταῦτα παρατροπέων ἐρεείνεις;
ὡς δὴ δήθʼ ἐνὶ νήσῳ ἐρύκομαι, οὐδέ τι τέκμωρ
εὑρέμεναι δύναμαι, μινύθει δέ μοι ἔνδοθεν ἦτορ.
ἀλλὰ σύ πέρ μοι εἰπέ, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα ἴσασιν,
ὅς τίς μʼ ἀθανάτων πεδάᾳ καὶ ἔδησε κελεύθου,
νόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσομαι ἰχθυόεντα.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
ἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὤφελλες Διί τʼ ἄλλοισίν τε θεοῖσι
ῥέξας ἱερὰ κάλʼ ἀναβαινέμεν, ὄφρα τάχιστα
σὴν ἐς πατρίδʼ ἵκοιο πλέων ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον.
οὐ γάρ τοι πρὶν μοῖρα φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐυκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
πρίν γʼ ὅτʼ ἂν Αἰγύπτοιο, διιπετέος ποταμοῖο,
αὖτις ὕδωρ ἔλθῃς ῥέξῃς θʼ ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας
ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι·
καὶ τότε τοι δώσουσιν ὁδὸν θεοί, ἣν σὺ μενοινᾷς.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,
οὕνεκά μʼ αὖτις ἄνωγεν ἐπʼ ἠεροειδέα πόντον
Αἴγυπτόνδʼ ἰέναι, δολιχὴν ὁδὸν ἀργαλέην τε.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὣς μύθοισιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ταῦτα μὲν οὕτω δὴ τελέω, γέρον, ὡς σὺ κελεύεις.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
ἢ πάντες σὺν νηυσὶν ἀπήμονες ἦλθον Ἀχαιοί,
οὓς Νέστωρ καὶ ἐγὼ λίπομεν Τροίηθεν ἰόντες,
ἦέ τις ὤλετʼ ὀλέθρῳ ἀδευκέι ἧς ἐπὶ νηὸς
ἠὲ φίλων ἐν χερσίν, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσεν.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
Ἀτρεΐδη, τί με ταῦτα διείρεαι; οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ
ἴδμεναι, οὐδὲ δαῆναι ἐμὸν νόον· οὐδέ σέ φημι
δὴν ἄκλαυτον ἔσεσθαι, ἐπὴν ἐὺ πάντα πύθηαι.
πολλοὶ μὲν γὰρ τῶν γε δάμεν, πολλοὶ δὲ λίποντο·
ἀρχοὶ δʼ αὖ δύο μοῦνοι Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων
ἐν νόστῳ ἀπόλοντο· μάχῃ δέ τε καὶ σὺ παρῆσθα.
εἷς δʼ ἔτι που ζωὸς κατερύκεται εὐρέι πόντῳ.
Αἴας μὲν μετὰ νηυσὶ δάμη δολιχηρέτμοισι.
Γυρῇσίν μιν πρῶτα Ποσειδάων ἐπέλασσεν
πέτρῃσιν μεγάλῃσι καὶ ἐξεσάωσε θαλάσσης·
καί νύ κεν ἔκφυγε κῆρα καὶ ἐχθόμενός περ Ἀθήνῃ,
εἰ μὴ ὑπερφίαλον ἔπος ἔκβαλε καὶ μέγʼ ἀάσθη·
φῆ ῥʼ ἀέκητι θεῶν φυγέειν μέγα λαῖτμα θαλάσσης.
τοῦ δὲ Ποσειδάων μεγάλʼ ἔκλυεν αὐδήσαντος·
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα τρίαιναν ἑλὼν χερσὶ στιβαρῇσιν
ἤλασε Γυραίην πέτρην, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔσχισεν αὐτήν·
καὶ τὸ μὲν αὐτόθι μεῖνε, τὸ δὲ τρύφος ἔμπεσε πόντῳ,
τῷ ῥʼ Αἴας τὸ πρῶτον ἐφεζόμενος μέγʼ ἀάσθη·
τὸν δʼ ἐφόρει κατὰ πόντον ἀπείρονα κυμαίνοντα.
ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθʼ ἀπόλωλεν, ἐπεὶ πίεν ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.
σὸς δέ που ἔκφυγε κῆρας ἀδελφεὸς ἠδʼ ὑπάλυξεν
ἐν νηυσὶ γλαφυρῇσι· σάωσε δὲ πότνια Ἥρη.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τάχʼ ἔμελλε Μαλειάων ὄρος αἰπὺ
ἵξεσθαι, τότε δή μιν ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα
πόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα φέρεν βαρέα στενάχοντα,
ἀγροῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιήν, ὅθι δώματα ναῖε Θυέστης
τὸ πρίν, ἀτὰρ τότʼ ἔναιε Θυεστιάδης Αἴγισθος.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ καὶ κεῖθεν ἐφαίνετο νόστος ἀπήμων,
ἂψ δὲ θεοὶ οὖρον στρέψαν, καὶ οἴκαδʼ ἵκοντο,
ἦ τοι ὁ μὲν χαίρων ἐπεβήσετο πατρίδος αἴης
καὶ κύνει ἁπτόμενος ἣν πατρίδα· πολλὰ δʼ ἀπʼ αὐτοῦ
δάκρυα θερμὰ χέοντʼ, ἐπεὶ ἀσπασίως ἴδε γαῖαν.
τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἀπὸ σκοπιῆς εἶδε σκοπός, ὅν ῥα καθεῖσεν
Αἴγισθος δολόμητις ἄγων, ὑπὸ δʼ ἔσχετο μισθὸν
χρυσοῦ δοιὰ τάλαντα· φύλασσε δʼ ὅ γʼ εἰς ἐνιαυτόν,
μή ἑ λάθοι παριών, μνήσαιτο δὲ θούριδος ἀλκῆς.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἀγγελέων πρὸς δώματα ποιμένι λαῶν.
αὐτίκα δʼ Αἴγισθος δολίην ἐφράσσατο τέχνην·
κρινάμενος κατὰ δῆμον ἐείκοσι φῶτας ἀρίστους
εἷσε λόχον, ἑτέρωθι δʼ ἀνώγει δαῖτα πένεσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ καλέων Ἀγαμέμνονα, ποιμένα λαῶν
ἵπποισιν καὶ ὄχεσφιν, ἀεικέα μερμηρίζων.
τὸν δʼ οὐκ εἰδότʼ ὄλεθρον ἀνήγαγε καὶ κατέπεφνεν
δειπνίσσας, ὥς τίς τε κατέκτανε βοῦν ἐπὶ φάτνῃ.
οὐδέ τις Ἀτρεΐδεω ἑτάρων λίπεθʼ οἵ οἱ ἕποντο,
οὐδέ τις Αἰγίσθου, ἀλλʼ ἔκταθεν ἐν μεγάροισιν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,
κλαῖον δʼ ἐν ψαμάθοισι καθήμενος, οὐδέ νύ μοι κῆρ
ἤθελʼ ἔτι ζώειν καὶ ὁρᾶν φάος ἠελίοιο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κλαίων τε κυλινδόμενός τε κορέσθην,
δὴ τότε με προσέειπε γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής·
μηκέτι, Ἀτρέος υἱέ, πολὺν χρόνον ἀσκελὲς οὕτω
κλαῖʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἄνυσίν τινα δήομεν· ἀλλὰ τάχιστα
πείρα ὅπως κεν δὴ σὴν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηαι.
ἢ γάρ μιν ζωόν γε κιχήσεαι, ἤ κεν Ὀρέστης
κτεῖνεν ὑποφθάμενος, σὺ δέ κεν τάφου ἀντιβολήσαις.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ
αὖτις ἐνὶ στήθεσσι καὶ ἀχνυμένῳ περ ἰάνθη,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·
τούτους μὲν δὴ οἶδα· σὺ δὲ τρίτον ἄνδρʼ ὀνόμαζε,
ὅς τις ἔτι ζωὸς κατερύκεται εὐρέι πόντῳ
ἠὲ θανών· ἐθέλω δὲ καὶ ἀχνύμενός περ ἀκοῦσαι.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
υἱὸς Λαέρτεω, Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκία ναίων·
τὸν δʼ ἴδον ἐν νήσῳ θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντα,
νύμφης ἐν μεγάροισι Καλυψοῦς, ἥ μιν ἀνάγκῃ
ἴσχει· ὁ δʼ οὐ δύναται ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·
οὐ γάρ οἱ πάρα νῆες ἐπήρετμοι καὶ ἑταῖροι,
οἵ κέν μιν πέμποιεν ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.
σοὶ δʼ οὐ θέσφατόν ἐστι, διοτρεφὲς ὦ Μενέλαε,
Ἄργει ἐν ἱπποβότῳ θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν,
ἀλλά σʼ ἐς Ἠλύσιον πεδίον καὶ πείρατα γαίης
ἀθάνατοι πέμψουσιν, ὅθι ξανθὸς Ῥαδάμανθυς,
τῇ περ ῥηίστη βιοτὴ πέλει ἀνθρώποισιν·
οὐ νιφετός, οὔτʼ ἂρ χειμὼν πολὺς οὔτε ποτʼ ὄμβρος,
ἀλλʼ αἰεὶ Ζεφύροιο λιγὺ πνείοντος ἀήτας
Ὠκεανὸς ἀνίησιν ἀναψύχειν ἀνθρώπους·
οὕνεκʼ ἔχεις Ἑλένην καί σφιν γαμβρὸς Διός ἐσσι.
ὣς εἰπὼν ὑπὸ πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆας ἅμʼ ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισιν
ἤια, πολλὰ δέ μοι κραδίη πόρφυρε κιόντι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλθομεν ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
δόρπον θʼ ὁπλισάμεσθʼ, ἐπί τʼ ἤλυθεν ἀμβροσίη νύξ,
δὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
νῆας μὲν πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσαμεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν,
ἐν δʼ ἱστοὺς τιθέμεσθα καὶ ἱστία νηυσὶν ἐίσῃς,
ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βάντες ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον·
ἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἂψ δʼ εἰς Αἰγύπτοιο διιπετέος ποταμοῖο
στῆσα νέας, καὶ ἔρεξα τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κατέπαυσα θεῶν χόλον αἰὲν ἐόντων,
χεῦʼ Ἀγαμέμνονι τύμβον, ἵνʼ ἄσβεστον κλέος εἴη.
ταῦτα τελευτήσας νεόμην, ἔδοσαν δέ μοι οὖρον
ἀθάνατοι, τοί μʼ ὦκα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔπεμψαν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἐπίμεινον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσιν,
ὄφρα κεν ἑνδεκάτη τε δυωδεκάτη τε γένηται·
καὶ τότε σʼ εὖ πέμψω, δώσω δέ τοι ἀγλαὰ δῶρα,
τρεῖς ἵππους καὶ δίφρον ἐύξοον· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
δώσω καλὸν ἄλεισον, ἵνα σπένδῃσθα θεοῖσιν
ἀθανάτοις ἐμέθεν μεμνημένος ἤματα πάντα.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀτρεΐδη, μὴ δή με πολὺν χρόνον ἐνθάδʼ ἔρυκε.
καὶ γάρ κʼ εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν ἐγὼ παρὰ σοί γʼ ἀνεχοίμην
ἥμενος, οὐδέ κέ μʼ οἴκου ἕλοι πόθος οὐδὲ τοκήων·
αἰνῶς γὰρ μύθοισιν ἔπεσσί τε σοῖσιν ἀκούων
τέρπομαι. ἀλλʼ ἤδη μοι ἀνιάζουσιν ἑταῖροι
ἐν Πύλῳ ἠγαθέῃ· σὺ δέ με χρόνον ἐνθάδʼ ἐρύκεις.
δῶρον δʼ ὅττι κέ μοι δοίης, κειμήλιον ἔστω·
ἵππους δʼ εἰς Ἰθάκην οὐκ ἄξομαι, ἀλλὰ σοὶ αὐτῷ
ἐνθάδε λείψω ἄγαλμα· σὺ γὰρ πεδίοιο ἀνάσσεις
εὐρέος, ᾧ ἔνι μὲν λωτὸς πολύς, ἐν δὲ κύπειρον
πυροί τε ζειαί τε ἰδʼ εὐρυφυὲς κρῖ λευκόν.
ἐν δʼ Ἰθάκῃ οὔτʼ ἂρ δρόμοι εὐρέες οὔτε τι λειμών·
αἰγίβοτος, καὶ μᾶλλον ἐπήρατος ἱπποβότοιο.
οὐ γάρ τις νήσων ἱππήλατος οὐδʼ ἐυλείμων,
αἵ θʼ ἁλὶ κεκλίαται· Ἰθάκη δέ τε καὶ περὶ πασέων.
ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος,
χειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
αἵματός εἰς ἀγαθοῖο, φίλον τέκος, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μεταστήσω· δύναμαι γάρ.
δώρων δʼ ὅσσʼ ἐν ἐμῷ οἴκῳ κειμήλια κεῖται,
δώσω ὃ κάλλιστον καὶ τιμηέστατόν ἐστιν·
δώσω τοι κρητῆρα τετυγμένον· ἀργύρεος δὲ
ἔστιν ἅπας, χρυσῷ δʼ ἐπὶ χείλεα κεκράανται,
ἔργον δʼ Ἡφαίστοιο. πόρεν δέ ἑ Φαίδιμος ἥρως,
Σιδονίων βασιλεύς, ὅθʼ ἑὸς δόμος ἀμφεκάλυψε
κεῖσέ με νοστήσαντα· τεῒν δʼ ἐθέλω τόδʼ ὀπάσσαι.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
δαιτυμόνες δʼ ἐς δώματʼ ἴσαν θείου βασιλῆος.
οἱ δʼ ἦγον μὲν μῆλα, φέρον δʼ ἐυήνορα οἶνον·
σῖτον δέ σφʼ ἄλοχοι καλλικρήδεμνοι ἔπεμπον.
ὣς οἱ μὲν περὶ δεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πένοντο.
μνηστῆρες δὲ πάροιθεν Ὀδυσσῆος μεγάροιο
δίσκοισιν τέρποντο καὶ αἰγανέῃσιν ἱέντες
ἐν τυκτῷ δαπέδῳ, ὅθι περ πάρος, ὕβριν ἔχοντες.
Ἀντίνοος δὲ καθῆστο καὶ Εὐρύμαχος θεοειδής,
ἀρχοὶ μνηστήρων, ἀρετῇ δʼ ἔσαν ἔξοχʼ ἄριστοι.
τοῖς δʼ υἱὸς Φρονίοιο Νοήμων ἐγγύθεν ἐλθὼν
Ἀντίνοον μύθοισιν ἀνειρόμενος προσέειπεν·
Ἀντίνοʼ, ἦ ῥά τι ἴδμεν ἐνὶ φρεσίν, ἦε καὶ οὐκί,
ὁππότε Τηλέμαχος νεῖτʼ ἐκ Πύλου ἠμαθόεντος;
νῆά μοι οἴχετʼ ἄγων· ἐμὲ δὲ χρεὼ γίγνεται αὐτῆς
Ἤλιδʼ ἐς εὐρύχορον διαβήμεναι, ἔνθα μοι ἵπποι
δώδεκα θήλειαι, ὑπὸ δʼ ἡμίονοι ταλαεργοὶ
ἀδμῆτες· τῶν κέν τινʼ ἐλασσάμενος δαμασαίμην.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ἐθάμβεον· οὐ γὰρ ἔφαντο
ἐς Πύλον οἴχεσθαι Νηλήιον, ἀλλά που αὐτοῦ
ἀγρῶν ἢ μήλοισι παρέμμεναι ἠὲ συβώτῃ.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη Ἐυπείθεος υἱός·
νημερτές μοι ἔνισπε, πότʼ ᾤχετο καὶ τίνες αὐτῷ
κοῦροι ἕποντʼ; Ἰθάκης ἐξαίρετοι, ἦ ἑοὶ αὐτοῦ
θῆτές τε δμῶές τε; δύναιτό κε καὶ τὸ τελέσσαι.
καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐὺ εἰδῶ,
ἤ σε βίῃ ἀέκοντος ἀπηύρα νῆα μέλαιναν,
ἦε ἑκών οἱ δῶκας, ἐπεὶ προσπτύξατο μύθῳ.
τὸν δʼ υἱὸς Φρονίοιο Νοήμων ἀντίον ηὔδα·
αὐτὸς ἑκών οἱ δῶκα· τί κεν ῥέξειε καὶ ἄλλος,
ὁππότʼ ἀνὴρ τοιοῦτος ἔχων μελεδήματα θυμῷ
αἰτίζῃ; χαλεπόν κεν ἀνήνασθαι δόσιν εἴη.
κοῦροι δʼ, οἳ κατὰ δῆμον ἀριστεύουσι μεθʼ ἡμέας,
οἵ οἱ ἕποντʼ· ἐν δʼ ἀρχὸν ἐγὼ βαίνοντʼ ἐνόησα
Μέντορα, ἠὲ θεόν, τῷ δʼ αὐτῷ πάντα ἐῴκει.
ἀλλὰ τὸ θαυμάζω· ἴδον ἐνθάδε Μέντορα δῖον
χθιζὸν ὑπηοῖον, τότε δʼ ἔμβη νηὶ Πύλονδε.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη πρὸς δώματα πατρός,
τοῖσιν δʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἀγάσσατο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
μνηστῆρας δʼ ἄμυδις κάθισαν καὶ παῦσαν ἀέθλων.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη Εὐπείθεος υἱός,
ἀχνύμενος· μένεος δὲ μέγα φρένες ἀμφιμέλαιναι
πίμπλαντʼ, ὄσσε δέ οἱ πυρὶ λαμπετόωντι ἐίκτην·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μέγα ἔργον ὑπερφιάλως ἐτελέσθη
Τηλεμάχῳ ὁδὸς ἥδε· φάμεν δέ οἱ οὐ τελέεσθαι.
ἐκ τοσσῶνδʼ ἀέκητι νέος πάϊς οἴχεται αὔτως
νῆα ἐρυσσάμενος, κρίνας τʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον ἀρίστους.
ἄρξει καὶ προτέρω κακὸν ἔμμεναι· ἀλλά οἱ αὐτῷ
Ζεὺς ὀλέσειε βίην, πρὶν ἥβης μέτρον ἱκέσθαι.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι δότε νῆα θοὴν καὶ εἴκοσʼ ἑταίρους,
ὄφρα μιν αὐτὸν ἰόντα λοχήσομαι ἠδὲ φυλάξω
ἐν πορθμῷ Ἰθάκης τε Σάμοιό τε παιπαλοέσσης,
ὡς ἂν ἐπισμυγερῶς ναυτίλλεται εἵνεκα πατρός.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον.
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀνστάντες ἔβαν δόμον εἰς Ὀδυσῆος.
οὐδʼ ἄρα Πηνελόπεια πολὺν χρόνον ἦεν ἄπυστος
μύθων, οὓς μνηστῆρες ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βυσσοδόμευον·
κῆρυξ γάρ οἱ ἔειπε Μέδων, ὃς ἐπεύθετο βουλὰς
αὐλῆς ἐκτὸς ἐών· οἱ δʼ ἔνδοθι μῆτιν ὕφαινον.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἀγγελέων διὰ δώματα Πηνελοπείῃ·
τὸν δὲ κατʼ οὐδοῦ βάντα προσηύδα Πηνελόπεια·
κῆρυξ, τίπτε δέ σε πρόεσαν μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοί;
ἦ εἰπέμεναι δμῳῇσιν Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο
ἔργων παύσασθαι, σφίσι δʼ αὐτοῖς δαῖτα πένεσθαι;
μὴ μνηστεύσαντες μηδʼ ἄλλοθʼ ὁμιλήσαντες
ὕστατα καὶ πύματα νῦν ἐνθάδε δειπνήσειαν·
οἳ θάμʼ ἀγειρόμενοι βίοτον κατακείρετε πολλόν,
κτῆσιν Τηλεμάχοιο δαΐφρονος· οὐδέ τι πατρῶν
ὑμετέρων τὸ πρόσθεν ἀκούετε, παῖδες ἐόντες,
οἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκε μεθʼ ὑμετέροισι τοκεῦσιν,
οὔτε τινὰ ῥέξας ἐξαίσιον οὔτε τι εἰπὼν
ἐν δήμῳ, ἥ τʼ ἐστὶ δίκη θείων βασιλήων·
ἄλλον κʼ ἐχθαίρῃσι βροτῶν, ἄλλον κε φιλοίη.
κεῖνος δʼ οὔ ποτε πάμπαν ἀτάσθαλον ἄνδρα ἐώργει.
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ὑμέτερος θυμὸς καὶ ἀεικέα ἔργα
φαίνεται, οὐδέ τίς ἐστι χάρις μετόπισθʼ ἐυεργέων.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·
αἲ γὰρ δή, βασίλεια, τόδε πλεῖστον κακὸν εἴη.
ἀλλὰ πολὺ μεῖζόν τε καὶ ἀργαλεώτερον ἄλλο
μνηστῆρες φράζονται, ὃ μὴ τελέσειε Κρονίων·
Τηλέμαχον μεμάασι κατακτάμεν ὀξέι χαλκῷ
οἴκαδε νισόμενον· ὁ δʼ ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν
ἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην ἠδʼ ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν.
ὣς φάτο, τῆς δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,
δὴν δέ μιν ἀμφασίη ἐπέων λάβε· τὼ δέ οἱ ὄσσε
δακρυόφι πλῆσθεν, θαλερὴ δέ οἱ ἔσχετο φωνή.
ὀψὲ δὲ δή μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε·
κῆρυξ, τίπτε δέ μοι πάϊς οἴχεται; οὐδέ τί μιν χρεὼ
νηῶν ὠκυπόρων ἐπιβαινέμεν, αἵ θʼ ἁλὸς ἵπποι
ἀνδράσι γίγνονται, περόωσι δὲ πουλὺν ἐφʼ ὑγρήν.
ἦ ἵνα μηδʼ ὄνομʼ αὐτοῦ ἐν ἀνθρώποισι λίπηται;
τὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·
οὐκ οἶδʼ ἤ τίς μιν θεὸς ὤρορεν, ἦε καὶ αὐτοῦ
θυμὸς ἐφωρμήθη ἴμεν ἐς Πύλον, ὄφρα πύθηται
πατρὸς ἑοῦ ἢ νόστον ἢ ὅν τινα πότμον ἐπέσπεν.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη κατὰ δῶμʼ Ὀδυσῆος.
τὴν δʼ ἄχος ἀμφεχύθη θυμοφθόρον, οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτʼ ἔτλη
δίφρῳ ἐφέζεσθαι πολλῶν κατὰ οἶκον ἐόντων,
ἀλλʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδοῦ ἷζε πολυκμήτου θαλάμοιο
οἴκτρʼ ὀλοφυρομένη· περὶ δὲ δμῳαὶ μινύριζον
πᾶσαι, ὅσαι κατὰ δώματʼ ἔσαν νέαι ἠδὲ παλαιαί.
τῇς δʼ ἁδινὸν γοόωσα μετηύδα Πηνελόπεια·
κλῦτε, φίλαι· πέρι γάρ μοι Ὀλύμπιος ἄλγεʼ ἔδωκεν
ἐκ πασέων, ὅσσαι μοι ὁμοῦ τράφεν ἠδʼ ἐγένοντο·
ἣ πρὶν μὲν πόσιν ἐσθλὸν ἀπώλεσα θυμολέοντα,
παντοίῃς ἀρετῇσι κεκασμένον ἐν Δαναοῖσιν,
ἐσθλόν, τοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ καθʼ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος.
νῦν αὖ παῖδʼ ἀγαπητὸν ἀνηρείψαντο θύελλαι
ἀκλέα ἐκ μεγάρων, οὐδʼ ὁρμηθέντος ἄκουσα.
σχέτλιαι, οὐδʼ ὑμεῖς περ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θέσθε ἑκάστη
ἐκ λεχέων μʼ ἀνεγεῖραι, ἐπιστάμεναι σάφα θυμῷ,
ὁππότʼ ἐκεῖνος ἔβη κοίλην ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν.
εἰ γὰρ ἐγὼ πυθόμην ταύτην ὁδὸν ὁρμαίνοντα,
τῷ κε μάλʼ ἤ κεν ἔμεινε καὶ ἐσσύμενός περ ὁδοῖο,
ἤ κέ με τεθνηκυῖαν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔλειπεν.
ἀλλά τις ὀτρηρῶς Δολίον καλέσειε γέροντα,
δμῶʼ ἐμόν, ὅν μοι δῶκε πατὴρ ἔτι δεῦρο κιούσῃ,
καί μοι κῆπον ἔχει πολυδένδρεον, ὄφρα τάχιστα
Λαέρτῃ τάδε πάντα παρεζόμενος καταλέξῃ,
εἰ δή πού τινα κεῖνος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μῆτιν ὑφήνας
ἐξελθὼν λαοῖσιν ὀδύρεται, οἳ μεμάασιν
ὃν καὶ Ὀδυσσῆος φθῖσαι γόνον ἀντιθέοιο.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
νύμφα φίλη, σὺ μὲν ἄρ με κατάκτανε νηλέι χαλκῷ
ἢ ἔα ἐν μεγάρῳ· μῦθον δέ τοι οὐκ ἐπικεύσω.
ᾔδεʼ ἐγὼ τάδε πάντα, πόρον δέ οἱ ὅσσʼ ἐκέλευε,
σῖτον καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ· ἐμεῦ δʼ ἕλετο μέγαν ὅρκον
μὴ πρὶν σοὶ ἐρέειν, πρὶν δωδεκάτην γε γενέσθαι
ἢ σʼ αὐτὴν ποθέσαι καὶ ἀφορμηθέντος ἀκοῦσαι,
ὡς ἂν μὴ κλαίουσα κατὰ χρόα καλὸν ἰάπτῃς.
ἀλλʼ ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθʼ ἑλοῦσα,
εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν
εὔχεʼ Ἀθηναίῃ κούρῃ Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο·
ἡ γάρ κέν μιν ἔπειτα καὶ ἐκ θανάτοιο σαώσαι.
μηδὲ γέροντα κάκου κεκακωμένον· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω
πάγχυ θεοῖς μακάρεσσι γονὴν Ἀρκεισιάδαο
ἔχθεσθʼ, ἀλλʼ ἔτι πού τις ἐπέσσεται ὅς κεν ἔχῃσι
δώματά θʼ ὑψερεφέα καὶ ἀπόπροθι πίονας ἀγρούς.
ὣς φάτο, τῆς δʼ εὔνησε γόον, σχέθε δʼ ὄσσε γόοιο.
ἡ δʼ ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθʼ ἑλοῦσα
εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀνέβαινε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξίν,
ἐν δʼ ἔθετʼ οὐλοχύτας κανέῳ, ἠρᾶτο δʼ Ἀθήνῃ·
κλῦθί μευ, αἰγιόχοιο Διὸς τέκος, Ἀτρυτώνη,
εἴ ποτέ τοι πολύμητις ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἢ βοὸς ἢ ὄϊος κατὰ πίονα μηρίʼ ἔκηε,
τῶν νῦν μοι μνῆσαι, καί μοι φίλον υἷα σάωσον,
μνηστῆρας δʼ ἀπάλαλκε κακῶς ὑπερηνορέοντας.
ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ὀλόλυξε, θεὰ δέ οἱ ἔκλυεν ἀρῆς.
μνηστῆρες δʼ ὁμάδησαν ἀνὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα·
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·
ἦ μάλα δὴ γάμον ἄμμι πολυμνήστη βασίλεια
ἀρτύει, οὐδέ τι οἶδεν ὅ οἱ φόνος υἷι τέτυκται.
ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε, τὰ δʼ οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·
δαιμόνιοι, μύθους μὲν ὑπερφιάλους ἀλέασθε
πάντας ὁμῶς, μή πού τις ἀπαγγείλῃσι καὶ εἴσω.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε σιγῇ τοῖον ἀναστάντες τελέωμεν
μῦθον, ὃ δὴ καὶ πᾶσιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἤραρεν ἡμῖν.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἐκρίνατʼ ἐείκοσι φῶτας ἀρίστους,
βὰν δʼ ἰέναι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.
νῆα μὲν οὖν πάμπρωτον ἁλὸς βένθοσδε ἔρυσσαν,
ἐν δʼ ἱστόν τʼ ἐτίθεντο καὶ ἱστία νηὶ μελαίνῃ,
ἠρτύναντο δʼ ἐρετμὰ τροποῖς ἐν δερματίνοισιν,
πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λευκὰ πέτασσαν·
τεύχεα δέ σφʼ ἤνεικαν ὑπέρθυμοι θεράποντες.
ὑψοῦ δʼ ἐν νοτίῳ τήν γʼ ὥρμισαν, ἐκ δʼ ἔβαν αὐτοί·
ἔνθα δὲ δόρπον ἕλοντο, μένον δʼ ἐπὶ ἕσπερον ἐλθεῖν.
ἡ δʼ ὑπερωίῳ αὖθι περίφρων Πηνελόπεια
κεῖτʼ ἄρʼ ἄσιτος, ἄπαστος ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,
ὁρμαίνουσʼ ἤ οἱ θάνατον φύγοι υἱὸς ἀμύμων,
ἦ ὅ γʼ ὑπὸ μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι δαμείη.
ὅσσα δὲ μερμήριξε λέων ἀνδρῶν ἐν ὁμίλῳ
δείσας, ὁππότε μιν δόλιον περὶ κύκλον ἄγωσι,
τόσσα μιν ὁρμαίνουσαν ἐπήλυθε νήδυμος ὕπνος·
εὗδε δʼ ἀνακλινθεῖσα, λύθεν δέ οἱ ἅψεα πάντα.
ἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
εἴδωλον ποίησε, δέμας δʼ ἤικτο γυναικί,
Ἰφθίμῃ, κούρῃ μεγαλήτορος Ἰκαρίοιο,
τὴν Εὔμηλος ὄπυιε Φερῇς ἔνι οἰκία ναίων.
πέμπε δέ μιν πρὸς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,
ἧος Πηνελόπειαν ὀδυρομένην γοόωσαν
παύσειε κλαυθμοῖο γόοιό τε δακρυόεντος.
ἐς θάλαμον δʼ εἰσῆλθε παρὰ κληῖδος ἱμάντα,
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
εὕδεις, Πηνελόπεια, φίλον τετιημένη ἦτορ;
οὐ μέν σʼ οὐδὲ ἐῶσι θεοὶ ῥεῖα ζώοντες
κλαίειν οὐδʼ ἀκάχησθαι, ἐπεί ῥʼ ἔτι νόστιμός ἐστι
σὸς παῖς· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι θεοῖς ἀλιτήμενός ἐστι.
τὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
ἡδὺ μάλα κνώσσουσʼ ἐν ὀνειρείῃσι πύλῃσιν·
τίπτε, κασιγνήτη, δεῦρʼ ἤλυθες; οὔ τι πάρος γε
πωλέʼ, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὸν ἀπόπροθι δώματα ναίεις·
καί με κέλεαι παύσασθαι ὀιζύος ἠδʼ ὀδυνάων
πολλέων, αἵ μʼ ἐρέθουσι κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
ἣ πρὶν μὲν πόσιν ἐσθλὸν ἀπώλεσα θυμολέοντα,
παντοίῃς ἀρετῇσι κεκασμένον ἐν Δαναοῖσιν,
ἐσθλόν, τοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ καθʼ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος·
νῦν αὖ παῖς ἀγαπητὸς ἔβη κοίλης ἐπὶ νηός,
νήπιος, οὔτε πόνων ἐὺ εἰδὼς οὔτʼ ἀγοράων.
τοῦ δὴ ἐγὼ καὶ μᾶλλον ὀδύρομαι ἤ περ ἐκείνου·
τοῦ δʼ ἀμφιτρομέω καὶ δείδια, μή τι πάθῃσιν,
ἢ ὅ γε τῶν ἐνὶ δήμῳ, ἵνʼ οἴχεται, ἢ ἐνὶ πόντῳ·
δυσμενέες γὰρ πολλοὶ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ μηχανόωνται,
ἱέμενοι κτεῖναι πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενον προσέφη εἴδωλον ἀμαυρόν·
θάρσει, μηδέ τι πάγχυ μετὰ φρεσὶ δείδιθι λίην·
τοίη γάρ οἱ πομπὸς ἅμʼ ἔρχεται, ἥν τε καὶ ἄλλοι
ἀνέρες ἠρήσαντο παρεστάμεναι, δύναται γάρ,
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη· σὲ δʼ ὀδυρομένην ἐλεαίρει·
ἣ νῦν με προέηκε τεῒν τάδε μυθήσασθαι.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
εἰ μὲν δὴ θεός ἐσσι θεοῖό τε ἔκλυες αὐδῆς,
εἰ δʼ ἄγε μοι καὶ κεῖνον ὀιζυρὸν κατάλεξον,
ἤ που ἔτι ζώει καὶ ὁρᾷ φάος ἠελίοιο,
ἦ ἤδη τέθνηκε καὶ εἰν Ἀίδαο δόμοισι.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενον προσέφη εἴδωλον ἀμαυρόν·
οὐ μέν τοι κεῖνόν γε διηνεκέως ἀγορεύσω,
ζώει ὅ γʼ ἦ τέθνηκε· κακὸν δʼ ἀνεμώλια βάζειν.
ὣς εἰπὸν σταθμοῖο παρὰ κληῖδα λιάσθη
ἐς πνοιὰς ἀνέμων. ἡ δʼ ἐξ ὕπνου ἀνόρουσε
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο· φίλον δέ οἱ ἦτορ ἰάνθη,
ὥς οἱ ἐναργὲς ὄνειρον ἐπέσσυτο νυκτὸς ἀμολγῷ.
μνηστῆρες δʼ ἀναβάντες ἐπέπλεον ὑγρὰ κέλευθα
Τηλεμάχῳ φόνον αἰπὺν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ὁρμαίνοντες.
ἔστι δέ τις νῆσος μέσσῃ ἁλὶ πετρήεσσα,
μεσσηγὺς Ἰθάκης τε Σάμοιό τε παιπαλοέσσης,
Ἀστερίς, οὐ μεγάλη· λιμένες δʼ ἔνι ναύλοχοι αὐτῇ
ἀμφίδυμοι· τῇ τόν γε μένον λοχόωντες Ἀχαιοί.

### Book 5

Ἠὼς δʼ ἐκ λεχέων παρʼ ἀγαυοῦ Τιθωνοῖο
ὤρνυθʼ, ἵνʼ ἀθανάτοισι φόως φέροι ἠδὲ βροτοῖσιν·
οἱ δὲ θεοὶ θῶκόνδε καθίζανον, ἐν δʼ ἄρα τοῖσι
Ζεὺς ὑψιβρεμέτης, οὗ τε κράτος ἐστὶ μέγιστον.
τοῖσι δʼ Ἀθηναίη λέγε κήδεα πόλλʼ Ὀδυσῆος
μνησαμένη· μέλε γάρ οἱ ἐὼν ἐν δώμασι νύμφης·
Ζεῦ πάτερ ἠδʼ ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,
μή τις ἔτι πρόφρων ἀγανὸς καὶ ἤπιος ἔστω
σκηπτοῦχος βασιλεύς, μηδὲ φρεσὶν αἴσιμα εἰδώς,
ἀλλʼ αἰεὶ χαλεπός τʼ εἴη καὶ αἴσυλα ῥέζοι·
ὡς οὔ τις μέμνηται Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο
λαῶν οἷσιν ἄνασσε, πατὴρ δʼ ὣς ἤπιος ἦεν.
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἐν νήσῳ κεῖται κρατέρʼ ἄλγεα πάσχων
νύμφης ἐν μεγάροισι Καλυψοῦς, ἥ μιν ἀνάγκῃ
ἴσχει· ὁ δʼ οὐ δύναται ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·
οὐ γάρ οἱ πάρα νῆες ἐπήρετμοι καὶ ἑταῖροι,
οἵ κέν μιν πέμποιεν ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.
νῦν αὖ παῖδʼ ἀγαπητὸν ἀποκτεῖναι μεμάασιν
οἴκαδε νισόμενον· ὁ δʼ ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν
ἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην ἠδʼ ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
τέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων.
οὐ γὰρ δὴ τοῦτον μὲν ἐβούλευσας νόον αὐτή,
ὡς ἦ τοι κείνους Ὀδυσεὺς ἀποτίσεται ἐλθών;
Τηλέμαχον δὲ σὺ πέμψον ἐπισταμένως, δύνασαι γάρ,
ὥς κε μάλʼ ἀσκηθὴς ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηται,
μνηστῆρες δʼ ἐν νηὶ· παλιμπετὲς ἀπονέωνται.
ἦ ῥα καὶ Ἑρμείαν, υἱὸν φίλον, ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἑρμεία, σὺ γὰρ αὖτε τά τʼ ἄλλα περ ἄγγελός ἐσσι,
νύμφῃ ἐυπλοκάμῳ εἰπεῖν νημερτέα βουλήν,
νόστον Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος, ὥς κε νέηται
οὔτε θεῶν πομπῇ οὔτε θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων·
ἀλλʼ ὅ γʼ ἐπὶ σχεδίης πολυδέσμου πήματα πάσχων
ἤματί κʼ εἰκοστῷ Σχερίην ἐρίβωλον ἵκοιτο,
Φαιήκων ἐς γαῖαν, οἳ ἀγχίθεοι γεγάασιν,
οἵ κέν μιν περὶ κῆρι θεὸν ὣς τιμήσουσιν,
πέμψουσιν δʼ ἐν νηὶ φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά τε δόντες,
πόλλʼ, ὅσʼ ἂν οὐδέ ποτε Τροίης ἐξήρατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
εἴ περ ἀπήμων ἦλθε, λαχὼν ἀπὸ ληίδος αἶσαν.
ὣς γάρ οἱ μοῖρʼ ἐστὶ φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐς ὑψόροφον καὶ ἑὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, οὐδʼ ἀπίθησε διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης.
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειθʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
ἀμβρόσια χρύσεια, τά μιν φέρον ἠμὲν ἐφʼ ὑγρὴν
ἠδʼ ἐπʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν ἅμα πνοιῇς ἀνέμοιο.
εἵλετο δὲ ῥάβδον, τῇ τʼ ἀνδρῶν ὄμματα θέλγει,
ὧν ἐθέλει, τοὺς δʼ αὖτε καὶ ὑπνώοντας ἐγείρει.
τὴν μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχων πέτετο κρατὺς ἀργεϊφόντης.
Πιερίην δʼ ἐπιβὰς ἐξ αἰθέρος ἔμπεσε πόντῳ·
σεύατʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ κῦμα λάρῳ ὄρνιθι ἐοικώς,
ὅς τε κατὰ δεινοὺς κόλπους ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο
ἰχθῦς ἀγρώσσων πυκινὰ πτερὰ δεύεται ἅλμῃ·
τῷ ἴκελος πολέεσσιν ὀχήσατο κύμασιν Ἑρμῆς.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἀφίκετο τηλόθʼ ἐοῦσαν,
ἔνθʼ ἐκ πόντου βὰς ἰοειδέος ἤπειρόνδε
ἤιεν, ὄφρα μέγα σπέος ἵκετο, τῷ ἔνι νύμφη
ναῖεν ἐυπλόκαμος· τὴν δʼ ἔνδοθι τέτμεν ἐοῦσαν.
πῦρ μὲν ἐπʼ ἐσχαρόφιν μέγα καίετο, τηλόσε δʼ ὀδμὴ
κέδρου τʼ εὐκεάτοιο θύου τʼ ἀνὰ νῆσον ὀδώδει
δαιομένων· ἡ δʼ ἔνδον ἀοιδιάουσʼ ὀπὶ καλῇ
ἱστὸν ἐποιχομένη χρυσείῃ κερκίδʼ ὕφαινεν.
ὕλη δὲ σπέος ἀμφὶ πεφύκει τηλεθόωσα,
κλήθρη τʼ αἴγειρός τε καὶ εὐώδης κυπάρισσος.
ἔνθα δέ τʼ ὄρνιθες τανυσίπτεροι εὐνάζοντο,
σκῶπές τʼ ἴρηκές τε τανύγλωσσοί τε κορῶναι
εἰνάλιαι, τῇσίν τε θαλάσσια ἔργα μέμηλεν.
ἡ δʼ αὐτοῦ τετάνυστο περὶ σπείους γλαφυροῖο
ἡμερὶς ἡβώωσα, τεθήλει δὲ σταφυλῇσι.
κρῆναι δʼ ἑξείης πίσυρες ῥέον ὕδατι λευκῷ,
πλησίαι ἀλλήλων τετραμμέναι ἄλλυδις ἄλλη.
ἀμφὶ δὲ λειμῶνες μαλακοὶ ἴου ἠδὲ σελίνου
θήλεον. ἔνθα κʼ ἔπειτα καὶ ἀθάνατός περ ἐπελθὼν
θηήσαιτο ἰδὼν καὶ τερφθείη φρεσὶν ᾗσιν.
ἔνθα στὰς θηεῖτο διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα ἑῷ θηήσατο θυμῷ,
αὐτίκʼ ἄρʼ εἰς εὐρὺ σπέος ἤλυθεν. οὐδέ μιν ἄντην
ἠγνοίησεν ἰδοῦσα Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων·
οὐ γάρ τʼ ἀγνῶτες θεοὶ ἀλλήλοισι πέλονται
ἀθάνατοι, οὐδʼ εἴ τις ἀπόπροθι δώματα ναίει.
οὐδʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆα μεγαλήτορα ἔνδον ἔτετμεν,
ἀλλʼ ὅ γʼ ἐπʼ ἀκτῆς κλαῖε καθήμενος, ἔνθα πάρος περ,
δάκρυσι καὶ στοναχῇσι καὶ ἄλγεσι θυμὸν ἐρέχθων.
πόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον δερκέσκετο δάκρυα λείβων.
Ἑρμείαν δʼ ἐρέεινε Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,
ἐν θρόνῳ ἱδρύσασα φαεινῷ σιγαλόεντι·
τίπτε μοι, Ἑρμεία χρυσόρραπι, εἰλήλουθας
αἰδοῖός τε φίλος τε; πάρος γε μὲν οὔ τι θαμίζεις.
αὔδα ὅ τι φρονέεις· τελέσαι δέ με θυμὸς ἄνωγεν,
εἰ δύναμαι τελέσαι γε καὶ εἰ τετελεσμένον ἐστίν.
ἀλλʼ ἕπεο προτέρω, ἵνα τοι πὰρ ξείνια θείω.
ὥς ἄρα φωνήσασα θεὰ παρέθηκε τράπεζαν
ἀμβροσίης πλήσασα, κέρασσε δὲ νέκταρ ἐρυθρόν.
αὐτὰρ ὁ πῖνε καὶ ἦσθε διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δείπνησε καὶ ἤραρε θυμὸν ἐδωδῇ,
καὶ τότε δή μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
εἰρωτᾷς μʼ ἐλθόντα θεὰ θεόν· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ τοι
νημερτέως τὸν μῦθον ἐνισπήσω· κέλεαι γάρ.
Ζεὺς ἐμέ γʼ ἠνώγει δεῦρʼ ἐλθέμεν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα·
τίς δʼ ἂν ἑκὼν τοσσόνδε διαδράμοι ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ
ἄσπετον; οὐδέ τις ἄγχι βροτῶν πόλις, οἵ τε θεοῖσιν
ἱερά τε ῥέζουσι καὶ ἐξαίτους ἑκατόμβας.
ἀλλὰ μάλʼ οὔ πως ἔστι Διὸς νόον αἰγιόχοιο
οὔτε παρεξελθεῖν ἄλλον θεὸν οὔθʼ ἁλιῶσαι.
φησί τοι ἄνδρα παρεῖναι ὀιζυρώτατον ἄλλων,
τῶν ἀνδρῶν, οἳ ἄστυ πέρι Πριάμοιο μάχοντο
εἰνάετες, δεκάτῳ δὲ πόλιν πέρσαντες ἔβησαν
οἴκαδʼ· ἀτὰρ ἐν νόστῳ Ἀθηναίην ἀλίτοντο,
ἥ σφιν ἐπῶρσʼ ἄνεμόν τε κακὸν καὶ κύματα μακρά.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀπέφθιθεν ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι,
τὸν δʼ ἄρα δεῦρʼ ἄνεμός τε φέρων καὶ κῦμα πέλασσε.
τὸν νῦν σʼ ἠνώγειν ἀποπεμπέμεν ὅττι τάχιστα·
οὐ γάρ οἱ τῇδʼ αἶσα φίλων ἀπονόσφιν ὀλέσθαι,
ἀλλʼ ἔτι οἱ μοῖρʼ ἐστὶ φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐς ὑψόροφον καὶ ἑὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ὣς φάτο, ῥίγησεν δὲ Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,
καί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
σχέτλιοί ἐστε, θεοί, ζηλήμονες ἔξοχον ἄλλων,
οἵ τε θεαῖς ἀγάασθε παρʼ ἀνδράσιν εὐνάζεσθαι
ἀμφαδίην, ἤν τίς τε φίλον ποιήσετʼ ἀκοίτην.
ὣς μὲν ὅτʼ Ὠρίωνʼ ἕλετο ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
τόφρα οἱ ἠγάασθε θεοὶ ῥεῖα ζώοντες,
ἧος ἐν Ὀρτυγίῃ χρυσόθρονος Ἄρτεμις ἁγνὴ
οἷς ἀγανοῖς βελέεσσιν ἐποιχομένη κατέπεφνεν.
ὣς δʼ ὁπότʼ Ἰασίωνι ἐυπλόκαμος Δημήτηρ,
ᾧ θυμῷ εἴξασα, μίγη φιλότητι καὶ εὐνῇ
νειῷ ἔνι τριπόλῳ· οὐδὲ δὴν ἦεν ἄπυστος
Ζεύς, ὅς μιν κατέπεφνε βαλὼν ἀργῆτι κεραυνῷ.
ὣς δʼ αὖ νῦν μοι ἄγασθε, θεοί, βροτὸν ἄνδρα παρεῖναι.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼν ἐσάωσα περὶ τρόπιος βεβαῶτα
οἶον, ἐπεί οἱ νῆα θοὴν ἀργῆτι κεραυνῷ
Ζεὺς ἔλσας ἐκέασσε μέσῳ ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀπέφθιθεν ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι,
τὸν δʼ ἄρα δεῦρʼ ἄνεμός τε φέρων καὶ κῦμα πέλασσε.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ φίλεόν τε καὶ ἔτρεφον, ἠδὲ ἔφασκον
θήσειν ἀθάνατον καὶ ἀγήραον ἤματα πάντα.
ἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ οὔ πως ἔστι Διὸς νόον αἰγιόχοιο
οὔτε παρεξελθεῖν ἄλλον θεὸν οὔθʼ ἁλιῶσαι,
ἐρρέτω, εἴ μιν κεῖνος ἐποτρύνει καὶ ἀνώγει,
πόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον· πέμψω δέ μιν οὔ πῃ ἐγώ γε·
οὐ γάρ μοι πάρα νῆες ἐπήρετμοι καὶ ἑταῖροι,
οἵ κέν μιν πέμποιεν ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.
αὐτάρ οἱ πρόφρων ὑποθήσομαι, οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω,
ὥς κε μάλʼ ἀσκηθὴς ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηται.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης·
οὕτω νῦν ἀπόπεμπε, Διὸς δʼ ἐποπίζεο μῆνιν,
μή πώς τοι μετόπισθε κοτεσσάμενος χαλεπήνῃ.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη κρατὺς ἀργεϊφόντης·
ἡ δʼ ἐπʼ Ὀδυσσῆα μεγαλήτορα πότνια νύμφη
ἤιʼ, ἐπεὶ δὴ Ζηνὸς ἐπέκλυεν ἀγγελιάων.
τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ ἀκτῆς εὗρε καθήμενον· οὐδέ ποτʼ ὄσσε
δακρυόφιν τέρσοντο, κατείβετο δὲ γλυκὺς αἰὼν
νόστον ὀδυρομένῳ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι ἥνδανε νύμφη.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι νύκτας μὲν ἰαύεσκεν καὶ ἀνάγκῃ
ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι παρʼ οὐκ ἐθέλων ἐθελούσῃ·
ἤματα δʼ ἂμ πέτρῃσι καὶ ἠιόνεσσι καθίζων
δάκρυσι καὶ στοναχῇσι καὶ ἄλγεσι θυμὸν ἐρέχθων
πόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον δερκέσκετο δάκρυα λείβων.
ἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱσταμένη προσεφώνεε δῖα θεάων·
κάμμορε, μή μοι ἔτʼ ἐνθάδʼ ὀδύρεο, μηδέ τοι αἰὼν
φθινέτω· ἤδη γάρ σε μάλα πρόφρασσʼ ἀποπέμψω.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε δούρατα μακρὰ ταμὼν ἁρμόζεο χαλκῷ
εὐρεῖαν σχεδίην· ἀτὰρ ἴκρια πῆξαι ἐπʼ αὐτῆς
ὑψοῦ, ὥς σε φέρῃσιν ἐπʼ ἠεροειδέα πόντον.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σῖτον καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ οἶνον ἐρυθρὸν
ἐνθήσω μενοεικέʼ, ἅ κέν τοι λιμὸν ἐρύκοι,
εἵματά τʼ ἀμφιέσω· πέμψω δέ τοι οὖρον ὄπισθεν,
ὥς κε μάλʼ ἀσκηθὴς σὴν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηαι,
αἴ κε θεοί γʼ ἐθέλωσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,
οἵ μευ φέρτεροί εἰσι νοῆσαί τε κρῆναί τε.
ὣς φάτο, ῥίγησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ἄλλο τι δὴ σύ, θεά, τόδε μήδεαι, οὐδέ τι πομπήν,
ἥ με κέλεαι σχεδίῃ περάαν μέγα λαῖτμα θαλάσσης,
δεινόν τʼ ἀργαλέον τε· τὸ δʼ οὐδʼ ἐπὶ νῆες ἐῖσαι
ὠκύποροι περόωσιν, ἀγαλλόμεναι Διὸς οὔρῳ.
οὐδʼ ἂν ἐγὼν ἀέκητι σέθεν σχεδίης ἐπιβαίην,
εἰ μή μοι τλαίης γε, θεά, μέγαν ὅρκον ὀμόσσαι
μή τί μοι αὐτῷ πῆμα κακὸν βουλευσέμεν ἄλλο.
ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ Καλυψὼ δῖα θεάων,
χειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
ἦ δὴ ἀλιτρός γʼ ἐσσὶ καὶ οὐκ ἀποφώλια εἰδώς,
οἷον δὴ τὸν μῦθον ἐπεφράσθης ἀγορεῦσαι.
ἴστω νῦν τόδε γαῖα καὶ οὐρανὸς εὐρὺς ὕπερθε
καὶ τὸ κατειβόμενον Στυγὸς ὕδωρ, ὅς τε μέγιστος
ὅρκος δεινότατός τε πέλει μακάρεσσι θεοῖσι,
μή τί τοι αὐτῷ πῆμα κακὸν βουλευσέμεν ἄλλο.
ἀλλὰ τὰ μὲν νοέω καὶ φράσσομαι, ἅσσʼ ἂν ἐμοί περ
αὐτῇ μηδοίμην, ὅτε με χρειὼ τόσον ἵκοι·
καὶ γὰρ ἐμοὶ νόος ἐστὶν ἐναίσιμος, οὐδέ μοι αὐτῇ
θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι σιδήρεος, ἀλλʼ ἐλεήμων.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἡγήσατο δῖα θεάων
καρπαλίμως· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα μετʼ ἴχνια βαῖνε θεοῖο.
ἷξον δὲ σπεῖος γλαφυρὸν θεὸς ἠδὲ καὶ ἀνήρ,
καί ῥʼ ὁ μὲν ἔνθα καθέζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη
Ἑρμείας, νύμφη δʼ ἐτίθει πάρα πᾶσαν ἐδωδήν,
ἔσθειν καὶ πίνειν, οἷα βροτοὶ ἄνδρες ἔδουσιν·
αὐτὴ δʼ ἀντίον ἷζεν Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,
τῇ δὲ παρʼ ἀμβροσίην δμῳαὶ καὶ νέκταρ ἔθηκαν.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τάρπησαν ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,
τοῖς ἄρα μύθων ἦρχε Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
οὕτω δὴ οἶκόνδε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν
αὐτίκα νῦν ἐθέλεις ἰέναι; σὺ δὲ χαῖρε καὶ ἔμπης.
εἴ γε μὲν εἰδείης σῇσι φρεσὶν ὅσσα τοι αἶσα
κήδεʼ ἀναπλῆσαι, πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι,
ἐνθάδε κʼ αὖθι μένων σὺν ἐμοὶ τόδε δῶμα φυλάσσοις
ἀθάνατός τʼ εἴης, ἱμειρόμενός περ ἰδέσθαι
σὴν ἄλοχον, τῆς τʼ αἰὲν ἐέλδεαι ἤματα πάντα.
οὐ μέν θην κείνης γε χερείων εὔχομαι εἶναι,
οὐ δέμας οὐδὲ φυήν, ἐπεὶ οὔ πως οὐδὲ ἔοικεν
θνητὰς ἀθανάτῃσι δέμας καὶ εἶδος ἐρίζειν.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
πότνα θεά, μή μοι τόδε χώεο· οἶδα καὶ αὐτὸς
πάντα μάλʼ, οὕνεκα σεῖο περίφρων Πηνελόπεια
εἶδος ἀκιδνοτέρη μέγεθός τʼ εἰσάντα ἰδέσθαι·
ἡ μὲν γὰρ βροτός ἐστι, σὺ δʼ ἀθάνατος καὶ ἀγήρως.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὣς ἐθέλω καὶ ἐέλδομαι ἤματα πάντα
οἴκαδέ τʼ ἐλθέμεναι καὶ νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἰδέσθαι.
εἰ δʼ αὖ τις ῥαίῃσι θεῶν ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ,
τλήσομαι ἐν στήθεσσιν ἔχων ταλαπενθέα θυμόν·
ἤδη γὰρ μάλα πολλὰ πάθον καὶ πολλὰ μόγησα
κύμασι καὶ πολέμῳ· μετὰ καὶ τόδε τοῖσι γενέσθω.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, ἠέλιος δʼ ἄρʼ ἔδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθεν·
ἐλθόντες δʼ ἄρα τώ γε μυχῷ σπείους γλαφυροῖο
τερπέσθην φιλότητι, παρʼ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντες.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
αὐτίχʼ ὁ μὲν χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε ἕννυτʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
αὐτὴ δʼ ἀργύφεον φᾶρος μέγα ἕννυτο νύμφη,
λεπτὸν καὶ χαρίεν, περὶ δὲ ζώνην βάλετʼ ἰξυῖ
καλὴν χρυσείην, κεφαλῇ δʼ ἐφύπερθε καλύπτρην.
καὶ τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆι μεγαλήτορι μήδετο πομπήν·
δῶκέν οἱ πέλεκυν μέγαν, ἄρμενον ἐν παλάμῃσι,
χάλκεον, ἀμφοτέρωθεν ἀκαχμένον· αὐτὰρ ἐν αὐτῷ
στειλειὸν περικαλλὲς ἐλάινον, εὖ ἐναρηρός·
δῶκε δʼ ἔπειτα σκέπαρνον ἐύξοον· ἦρχε δʼ ὁδοῖο
νήσου ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῆς, ὅθι δένδρεα μακρὰ πεφύκει,
κλήθρη τʼ αἴγειρός τʼ, ἐλάτη τʼ ἦν οὐρανομήκης,
αὖα πάλαι, περίκηλα, τά οἱ πλώοιεν ἐλαφρῶς.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ δεῖξʼ, ὅθι δένδρεα μακρὰ πεφύκει,
ἡ μὲν ἔβη πρὸς δῶμα Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,
αὐτὰρ ὁ τάμνετο δοῦρα· θοῶς δέ οἱ ἤνυτο ἔργον.
εἴκοσι δʼ ἔκβαλε πάντα, πελέκκησεν δʼ ἄρα χαλκῷ,
ξέσσε δʼ ἐπισταμένως καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνεν.
τόφρα δʼ ἔνεικε τέρετρα Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων·
τέτρηνεν δʼ ἄρα πάντα καὶ ἥρμοσεν ἀλλήλοισιν,
γόμφοισιν δʼ ἄρα τήν γε καὶ ἁρμονίῃσιν ἄρασσεν.
ὅσσον τίς τʼ ἔδαφος νηὸς τορνώσεται ἀνὴρ
φορτίδος εὐρείης, ἐὺ εἰδὼς τεκτοσυνάων,
τόσσον ἔπʼ εὐρεῖαν σχεδίην ποιήσατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.
ἴκρια δὲ στήσας, ἀραρὼν θαμέσι σταμίνεσσι,
ποίει· ἀτὰρ μακρῇσιν ἐπηγκενίδεσσι τελεύτα.
ἐν δʼ ἱστὸν ποίει καὶ ἐπίκριον ἄρμενον αὐτῷ·
πρὸς δʼ ἄρα πηδάλιον ποιήσατο, ὄφρʼ ἰθύνοι.
φράξε δέ μιν ῥίπεσσι διαμπερὲς οἰσυΐνῃσι
κύματος εἶλαρ ἔμεν· πολλὴν δʼ ἐπεχεύατο ὕλην.
τόφρα δὲ φάρεʼ ἔνεικε Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,
ἱστία ποιήσασθαι· ὁ δʼ εὖ τεχνήσατο καὶ τά.
ἐν δʼ ὑπέρας τε κάλους τε πόδας τʼ ἐνέδησεν ἐν αὐτῇ,
μοχλοῖσιν δʼ ἄρα τήν γε κατείρυσεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν.
τέτρατον ἦμαρ ἔην, καὶ τῷ τετέλεστο ἅπαντα·
τῷ δʼ ἄρα πέμπτῳ πέμπʼ ἀπὸ νήσου δῖα Καλυψώ,
εἵματά τʼ ἀμφιέσασα θυώδεα καὶ λούσασα.
ἐν δέ οἱ ἀσκὸν ἔθηκε θεὰ μέλανος οἴνοιο
τὸν ἕτερον, ἕτερον δʼ ὕδατος μέγαν, ἐν δὲ καὶ ᾖα
κωρύκῳ· ἐν δέ οἱ ὄψα τίθει μενοεικέα πολλά·
οὖρον δὲ προέηκεν ἀπήμονά τε λιαρόν τε.
γηθόσυνος δʼ οὔρῳ πέτασʼ ἱστία δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
αὐτὰρ ὁ πηδαλίῳ ἰθύνετο τεχνηέντως
ἥμενος, οὐδέ οἱ ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔπιπτεν
Πληιάδας τʼ ἐσορῶντι καὶ ὀψὲ δύοντα Βοώτην
Ἄρκτον θʼ, ἣν καὶ ἄμαξαν ἐπίκλησιν καλέουσιν,
ἥ τʼ αὐτοῦ στρέφεται καί τʼ Ὠρίωνα δοκεύει,
οἴη δʼ ἄμμορός ἐστι λοετρῶν Ὠκεανοῖο·
τὴν γὰρ δή μιν ἄνωγε Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,
ποντοπορευέμεναι ἐπʼ ἀριστερὰ χειρὸς ἔχοντα.
ἑπτὰ δὲ καὶ δέκα μὲν πλέεν ἤματα ποντοπορεύων,
ὀκτωκαιδεκάτῃ δʼ ἐφάνη ὄρεα σκιόεντα
γαίης Φαιήκων, ὅθι τʼ ἄγχιστον πέλεν αὐτῷ·
εἴσατο δʼ ὡς ὅτε ῥινὸν ἐν ἠεροειδέι πόντῳ.
τὸν δʼ ἐξ Αἰθιόπων ἀνιὼν κρείων ἐνοσίχθων
τηλόθεν ἐκ Σολύμων ὀρέων ἴδεν· εἴσατο γάρ οἱ
πόντον ἐπιπλώων. ὁ δʼ ἐχώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,
κινήσας δὲ κάρη προτὶ ὃν μυθήσατο θυμόν·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ μετεβούλευσαν θεοὶ ἄλλως
ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆι ἐμεῖο μετʼ Αἰθιόπεσσιν ἐόντος,
καὶ δὴ Φαιήκων γαίης σχεδόν, ἔνθα οἱ αἶσα
ἐκφυγέειν μέγα πεῖραρ ὀιζύος, ἥ μιν ἱκάνει.
ἀλλʼ ἔτι μέν μίν φημι ἅδην ἐλάαν κακότητος.
ὣς εἰπὼν σύναγεν νεφέλας, ἐτάραξε δὲ πόντον
χερσὶ τρίαιναν ἑλών· πάσας δʼ ὀρόθυνεν ἀέλλας
παντοίων ἀνέμων, σὺν δὲ νεφέεσσι κάλυψε
γαῖαν ὁμοῦ καὶ πόντον· ὀρώρει δʼ οὐρανόθεν νύξ.
σὺν δʼ Εὖρός τε Νότος τʼ ἔπεσον Ζέφυρός τε δυσαὴς
καὶ Βορέης αἰθρηγενέτης, μέγα κῦμα κυλίνδων.
καὶ τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆος λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,
ὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·
ὤ μοι ἐγὼ δειλός, τί νύ μοι μήκιστα γένηται;
δείδω μὴ δὴ πάντα θεὰ νημερτέα εἶπεν,
ἥ μʼ ἔφατʼ ἐν πόντῳ, πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι,
ἄλγεʼ ἀναπλήσειν· τὰ δὲ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.
οἵοισιν νεφέεσσι περιστέφει οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν
Ζεύς, ἐτάραξε δὲ πόντον, ἐπισπέρχουσι δʼ ἄελλαι
παντοίων ἀνέμων. νῦν μοι σῶς αἰπὺς ὄλεθρος.
τρὶς μάκαρες Δαναοὶ καὶ τετράκις, οἳ τότʼ ὄλοντο
Τροίῃ ἐν εὐρείῃ χάριν Ἀτρεΐδῃσι φέροντες.
ὡς δὴ ἐγώ γʼ ὄφελον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν
ἤματι τῷ ὅτε μοι πλεῖστοι χαλκήρεα δοῦρα
Τρῶες ἐπέρριψαν περὶ Πηλεΐωνι θανόντι.
τῷ κʼ ἔλαχον κτερέων, καί μευ κλέος ἦγον Ἀχαιοί·
νῦν δέ με λευγαλέῳ θανάτῳ εἵμαρτο ἁλῶναι.
ὣς ἄρα μιν εἰπόντʼ ἔλασεν μέγα κῦμα κατʼ ἄκρης
δεινὸν ἐπεσσύμενον, περὶ δὲ σχεδίην ἐλέλιξε.
τῆλε δʼ ἀπὸ σχεδίης αὐτὸς πέσε, πηδάλιον δὲ
ἐκ χειρῶν προέηκε· μέσον δέ οἱ ἱστὸν ἔαξεν
δεινὴ μισγομένων ἀνέμων ἐλθοῦσα θύελλα,
τηλοῦ δὲ σπεῖρον καὶ ἐπίκριον ἔμπεσε πόντῳ.
τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόβρυχα θῆκε πολὺν χρόνον, οὐδʼ ἐδυνάσθη
αἶψα μάλʼ ἀνσχεθέειν μεγάλου ὑπὸ κύματος ὁρμῆς·
εἵματα γάρ ῥʼ ἐβάρυνε, τά οἱ πόρε δῖα Καλυψώ.
ὀψὲ δὲ δή ῥʼ ἀνέδυ, στόματος δʼ ἐξέπτυσεν ἅλμην
πικρήν, ἥ οἱ πολλὴ ἀπὸ κρατὸς κελάρυζεν.
ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς σχεδίης ἐπελήθετο, τειρόμενός περ,
ἀλλὰ μεθορμηθεὶς ἐνὶ κύμασιν ἐλλάβετʼ αὐτῆς,
ἐν μέσσῃ δὲ καθῖζε τέλος θανάτου ἀλεείνων.
τὴν δʼ ἐφόρει μέγα κῦμα κατὰ ῥόον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ὀπωρινὸς Βορέης φορέῃσιν ἀκάνθας
ἂμ πεδίον, πυκιναὶ δὲ πρὸς ἀλλήλῃσιν ἔχονται,
ὣς τὴν ἂμ πέλαγος ἄνεμοι φέρον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα·
ἄλλοτε μέν τε Νότος Βορέῃ προβάλεσκε φέρεσθαι,
ἄλλοτε δʼ αὖτʼ Εὖρος Ζεφύρῳ εἴξασκε διώκειν.
τὸν δὲ ἴδεν Κάδμου θυγάτηρ, καλλίσφυρος Ἰνώ,
Λευκοθέη, ἣ πρὶν μὲν ἔην βροτὸς αὐδήεσσα,
νῦν δʼ ἁλὸς ἐν πελάγεσσι θεῶν ἒξ ἔμμορε τιμῆς.
ἥ ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐλέησεν ἀλώμενον, ἄλγεʼ ἔχοντα,
αἰθυίῃ δʼ ἐικυῖα ποτῇ ἀνεδύσετο λίμνης,
ἷζε δʼ ἐπὶ σχεδίης πολυδέσμου εἶπέ τε μῦθον·
κάμμορε, τίπτε τοι ὧδε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων
ὠδύσατʼ ἐκπάγλως, ὅτι τοι κακὰ πολλὰ φυτεύει;
οὐ μὲν δή σε καταφθίσει μάλα περ μενεαίνων.
ἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὧδʼ ἔρξαι, δοκέεις δέ μοι οὐκ ἀπινύσσειν·
εἵματα ταῦτʼ ἀποδὺς σχεδίην ἀνέμοισι φέρεσθαι
κάλλιπʼ, ἀτὰρ χείρεσσι νέων ἐπιμαίεο νόστου
γαίης Φαιήκων, ὅθι τοι μοῖρʼ ἐστὶν ἀλύξαι.
τῆ δέ, τόδε κρήδεμνον ὑπὸ στέρνοιο τανύσσαι
ἄμβροτον· οὐδέ τί τοι παθέειν δέος οὐδʼ ἀπολέσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν χείρεσσιν ἐφάψεαι ἠπείροιο,
ἂψ ἀπολυσάμενος βαλέειν εἰς οἴνοπα πόντον
πολλὸν ἀπʼ ἠπείρου, αὐτὸς δʼ ἀπονόσφι τραπέσθαι.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασα θεὰ κρήδεμνον ἔδωκεν,
αὐτὴ δʼ ἂψ ἐς πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα
αἰθυίῃ ἐικυῖα· μέλαν δέ ἑ κῦμα κάλυψεν.
αὐτὰρ ὁ μερμήριξε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
ὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·
ὤ μοι ἐγώ, μή τίς μοι ὑφαίνῃσιν δόλον αὖτε
ἀθανάτων, ὅ τέ με σχεδίης ἀποβῆναι ἀνώγει.
ἀλλὰ μάλʼ οὔ πω πείσομʼ, ἐπεὶ ἑκὰς ὀφθαλμοῖσιν
γαῖαν ἐγὼν ἰδόμην, ὅθι μοι φάτο φύξιμον εἶναι.
ἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὧδʼ ἔρξω, δοκέει δέ μοι εἶναι ἄριστον·
ὄφρʼ ἂν μέν κεν δούρατʼ ἐν ἁρμονίῃσιν ἀρήρῃ,
τόφρʼ αὐτοῦ μενέω καὶ τλήσομαι ἄλγεα πάσχων·
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δή μοι σχεδίην διὰ κῦμα τινάξῃ,
νήξομʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐ μέν τι πάρα προνοῆσαι ἄμεινον.
ἧος ὁ ταῦθʼ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
ὦρσε δʼ ἐπὶ μέγα κῦμα Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,
δεινόν τʼ ἀργαλέον τε, κατηρεφές, ἤλασε δʼ αὐτόν.
ὡς δʼ ἄνεμος ζαὴς ἠΐων θημῶνα τινάξῃ
καρφαλέων· τὰ μὲν ἄρ τε διεσκέδασʼ ἄλλυδις ἄλλῃ·
ὣς τῆς δούρατα μακρὰ διεσκέδασʼ. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἀμφʼ ἑνὶ δούρατι βαῖνε, κέληθʼ ὡς ἵππον ἐλαύνων,
εἵματα δʼ ἐξαπέδυνε, τά οἱ πόρε δῖα Καλυψώ.
αὐτίκα δὲ κρήδεμνον ὑπὸ στέρνοιο τάνυσσεν,
αὐτὸς δὲ πρηνὴς ἁλὶ κάππεσε, χεῖρε πετάσσας,
νηχέμεναι μεμαώς. ἴδε δὲ κρείων ἐνοσίχθων,
κινήσας δὲ κάρη προτὶ ὃν μυθήσατο θυμόν·
οὕτω νῦν κακὰ πολλὰ παθὼν ἀλόω κατὰ πόντον,
εἰς ὅ κεν ἀνθρώποισι διοτρεφέεσσι μιγήῃς.
ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὥς σε ἔολπα ὀνόσσεσθαι κακότητος.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἵμασεν καλλίτριχας ἵππους,
ἵκετο δʼ εἰς Αἰγάς, ὅθι οἱ κλυτὰ δώματʼ ἔασιν.
αὐτὰρ Ἀθηναίη κούρη Διὸς ἄλλʼ ἐνόησεν.
ἦ τοι τῶν ἄλλων ἀνέμων κατέδησε κελεύθους,
παύσασθαι δʼ ἐκέλευσε καὶ εὐνηθῆναι ἅπαντας·
ὦρσε δʼ ἐπὶ κραιπνὸν Βορέην, πρὸ δὲ κύματʼ ἔαξεν,
ἧος ὃ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μιγείη
διογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξας.
ἔνθα δύω νύκτας δύο τʼ ἤματα κύματι πηγῷ
πλάζετο, πολλὰ δέ οἱ κραδίη προτιόσσετʼ ὄλεθρον.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τρίτον ἦμαρ ἐυπλόκαμος τέλεσʼ Ἠώς,
καὶ τότʼ ἔπειτʼ ἄνεμος μὲν ἐπαύσατο ἠδὲ γαλήνη
ἔπλετο νηνεμίη· ὁ δʼ ἄρα σχεδὸν εἴσιδε γαῖαν
ὀξὺ μάλα προϊδών, μεγάλου ὑπὸ κύματος ἀρθείς.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἀσπάσιος βίοτος παίδεσσι φανήῃ
πατρός, ὃς ἐν νούσῳ κεῖται κρατέρʼ ἄλγεα πάσχων,
δηρὸν τηκόμενος, στυγερὸς δέ οἱ ἔχραε δαίμων,
ἀσπάσιον δʼ ἄρα τόν γε θεοὶ κακότητος ἔλυσαν,
ὣς Ὀδυσεῖ ἀσπαστὸν ἐείσατο γαῖα καὶ ὕλη,
νῆχε δʼ ἐπειγόμενος ποσὶν ἠπείρου ἐπιβῆναι.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε τόσσον ἀπῆν ὅσσον τε γέγωνε βοήσας,
καὶ δὴ δοῦπον ἄκουσε ποτὶ σπιλάδεσσι θαλάσσης·
ῥόχθει γὰρ μέγα κῦμα ποτὶ ξερὸν ἠπείροιο
δεινὸν ἐρευγόμενον, εἴλυτο δὲ πάνθʼ ἁλὸς ἄχνῃ·
οὐ γὰρ ἔσαν λιμένες νηῶν ὄχοι, οὐδʼ ἐπιωγαί.
ἀλλʼ ἀκταὶ προβλῆτες ἔσαν σπιλάδες τε πάγοι τε·
καὶ τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆος λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,
ὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·
ὤ μοι, ἐπεὶ δὴ γαῖαν ἀελπέα δῶκεν ἰδέσθαι
Ζεύς, καὶ δὴ τόδε λαῖτμα διατμήξας ἐπέρησα,
ἔκβασις οὔ πῃ φαίνεθʼ ἁλὸς πολιοῖο θύραζε·
ἔκτοσθεν μὲν γὰρ πάγοι ὀξέες, ἀμφὶ δὲ κῦμα
βέβρυχεν ῥόθιον, λισσὴ δʼ ἀναδέδρομε πέτρη,
ἀγχιβαθὴς δὲ θάλασσα, καὶ οὔ πως ἔστι πόδεσσι
στήμεναι ἀμφοτέροισι καὶ ἐκφυγέειν κακότητα·
μή πώς μʼ ἐκβαίνοντα βάλῃ λίθακι ποτὶ πέτρῃ
κῦμα μέγʼ ἁρπάξαν· μελέη δέ μοι ἔσσεται ὁρμή.
εἰ δέ κʼ ἔτι προτέρω παρανήξομαι, ἤν που ἐφεύρω
ἠιόνας τε παραπλῆγας λιμένας τε θαλάσσης,
δείδω μή μʼ ἐξαῦτις ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα
πόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα φέρῃ βαρέα στενάχοντα,
ἠέ τί μοι καὶ κῆτος ἐπισσεύῃ μέγα δαίμων
ἐξ ἁλός, οἷά τε πολλὰ τρέφει κλυτὸς Ἀμφιτρίτη·
οἶδα γάρ, ὥς μοι ὀδώδυσται κλυτὸς ἐννοσίγαιος.
ἧος ὁ ταῦθʼ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
τόφρα δέ μιν μέγα κῦμα φέρε τρηχεῖαν ἐπʼ ἀκτήν.
ἔνθα κʼ ἀπὸ ῥινοὺς δρύφθη, σὺν δʼ ὀστέʼ ἀράχθη,
εἰ μὴ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
ἀμφοτέρῃσι δὲ χερσὶν ἐπεσσύμενος λάβε πέτρης,
τῆς ἔχετο στενάχων, ἧος μέγα κῦμα παρῆλθε.
καὶ τὸ μὲν ὣς ὑπάλυξε, παλιρρόθιον δέ μιν αὖτις
πλῆξεν ἐπεσσύμενον, τηλοῦ δέ μιν ἔμβαλε πόντῳ.
ὡς δʼ ὅτε πουλύποδος θαλάμης ἐξελκομένοιο
πρὸς κοτυληδονόφιν πυκιναὶ λάιγγες ἔχονται,
ὣς τοῦ πρὸς πέτρῃσι θρασειάων ἀπὸ χειρῶν
ῥινοὶ ἀπέδρυφθεν· τὸν δὲ μέγα κῦμα κάλυψεν.
ἔνθα κε δὴ δύστηνος ὑπὲρ μόρον ὤλετʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
εἰ μὴ ἐπιφροσύνην δῶκε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
κύματος ἐξαναδύς, τά τʼ ἐρεύγεται ἤπειρόνδε,
νῆχε παρέξ, ἐς γαῖαν ὁρώμενος, εἴ που ἐφεύροι
ἠιόνας τε παραπλῆγας λιμένας τε θαλάσσης.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ποταμοῖο κατὰ στόμα καλλιρόοιο
ἷξε νέων, τῇ δή οἱ ἐείσατο χῶρος ἄριστος,
λεῖος πετράων, καὶ ἐπὶ σκέπας ἦν ἀνέμοιο,
ἔγνω δὲ προρέοντα καὶ εὔξατο ὃν κατὰ θυμόν·
κλῦθι, ἄναξ, ὅτις ἐσσί· πολύλλιστον δέ σʼ ἱκάνω,
φεύγων ἐκ πόντοιο Ποσειδάωνος ἐνιπάς.
αἰδοῖος μέν τʼ ἐστὶ καὶ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν
ἀνδρῶν ὅς τις ἵκηται ἀλώμενος, ὡς καὶ ἐγὼ νῦν
σόν τε ῥόον σά τε γούναθʼ ἱκάνω πολλὰ μογήσας.
ἀλλʼ ἐλέαιρε, ἄναξ· ἱκέτης δέ τοι εὔχομαι εἶναι.
ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αὐτίκα παῦσεν ἑὸν ῥόον, ἔσχε δὲ κῦμα,
πρόσθε δέ οἱ ποίησε γαλήνην, τὸν δʼ ἐσάωσεν
ἐς ποταμοῦ προχοάς. ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ ἄμφω γούνατʼ ἔκαμψε
χεῖράς τε στιβαράς. ἁλὶ γὰρ δέδμητο φίλον κῆρ.
ᾤδεε δὲ χρόα πάντα, θάλασσα δὲ κήκιε πολλὴ
ἂν στόμα τε ῥῖνάς θʼ· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ ἄπνευστος καὶ ἄναυδος
κεῖτʼ ὀλιγηπελέων, κάματος δέ μιν αἰνὸς ἵκανεν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἄμπνυτο καὶ ἐς φρένα θυμὸς ἀγέρθη,
καὶ τότε δὴ κρήδεμνον ἀπὸ ἕο λῦσε θεοῖο.
καὶ τὸ μὲν ἐς ποταμὸν ἁλιμυρήεντα μεθῆκεν,
ἂψ δʼ ἔφερεν μέγα κῦμα κατὰ ῥόον, αἶψα δʼ ἄρʼ Ἰνὼ
δέξατο χερσὶ φίλῃσιν· ὁ δʼ ἐκ ποταμοῖο λιασθεὶς
σχοίνῳ ὑπεκλίνθη, κύσε δὲ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.
ὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·
ὤ μοι ἐγώ, τί πάθω; τί νύ μοι μήκιστα γένηται;
εἰ μέν κʼ ἐν ποταμῷ δυσκηδέα νύκτα φυλάσσω,
μή μʼ ἄμυδις στίβη τε κακὴ καὶ θῆλυς ἐέρση
ἐξ ὀλιγηπελίης δαμάσῃ κεκαφηότα θυμόν·
αὔρη δʼ ἐκ ποταμοῦ ψυχρὴ πνέει ἠῶθι πρό.
εἰ δέ κεν ἐς κλιτὺν ἀναβὰς καὶ δάσκιον ὕλην
θάμνοις ἐν πυκινοῖσι καταδράθω, εἴ με μεθείη
ῥῖγος καὶ κάματος, γλυκερὸς δέ μοι ὕπνος ἐπέλθῃ,
δείδω, μὴ θήρεσσιν ἕλωρ καὶ κύρμα γένωμαι.
ὣς ἄρα οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι·
βῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν εἰς ὕλην· τὴν δὲ σχεδὸν ὕδατος εὗρεν
ἐν περιφαινομένῳ· δοιοὺς δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπήλυθε θάμνους,
ἐξ ὁμόθεν πεφυῶτας· ὁ μὲν φυλίης, ὁ δʼ ἐλαίης.
τοὺς μὲν ἄρʼ οὔτʼ ἀνέμων διάη μένος ὑγρὸν ἀέντων,
οὔτε ποτʼ ἠέλιος φαέθων ἀκτῖσιν ἔβαλλεν,
οὔτʼ ὄμβρος περάασκε διαμπερές· ὣς ἄρα πυκνοὶ
ἀλλήλοισιν ἔφυν ἐπαμοιβαδίς· οὓς ὑπʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
δύσετʼ. ἄφαρ δʼ εὐνὴν ἐπαμήσατο χερσὶ φίλῃσιν
εὐρεῖαν· φύλλων γὰρ ἔην χύσις ἤλιθα πολλή,
ὅσσον τʼ ἠὲ δύω ἠὲ τρεῖς ἄνδρας ἔρυσθαι
ὥρῃ χειμερίῃ, εἰ καὶ μάλα περ χαλεπαίνοι.
τὴν μὲν ἰδὼν γήθησε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἐν δʼ ἄρα μέσσῃ λέκτο, χύσιν δʼ ἐπεχεύατο φύλλων.
ὡς δʼ ὅτε τις δαλὸν σποδιῇ ἐνέκρυψε μελαίνῃ
ἀγροῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῆς, ᾧ μὴ πάρα γείτονες ἄλλοι,
σπέρμα πυρὸς σώζων, ἵνα μή ποθεν ἄλλοθεν αὔοι,
ὣς Ὀδυσεὺς φύλλοισι καλύψατο· τῷ δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀθήνη
ὕπνον ἐπʼ ὄμμασι χεῦʼ, ἵνα μιν παύσειε τάχιστα
δυσπονέος καμάτοιο φίλα βλέφαρʼ ἀμφικαλύψας.

### Book 6

ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθα καθεῦδε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὕπνῳ καὶ καμάτῳ ἀρημένος· αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη
βῆ ῥʼ ἐς Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν δῆμόν τε πόλιν τε,
οἳ πρὶν μέν ποτʼ ἔναιον ἐν εὐρυχόρῳ Ὑπερείῃ,
ἀγχοῦ Κυκλώπων ἀνδρῶν ὑπερηνορεόντων,
οἵ σφεας σινέσκοντο, βίηφι δὲ φέρτεροι ἦσαν.
ἔνθεν ἀναστήσας ἄγε Ναυσίθοος θεοειδής,
εἷσεν δὲ Σχερίῃ, ἑκὰς ἀνδρῶν ἀλφηστάων,
ἀμφὶ δὲ τεῖχος ἔλασσε πόλει, καὶ ἐδείματο οἴκους,
καὶ νηοὺς ποίησε θεῶν, καὶ ἐδάσσατʼ ἀρούρας.
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἤδη κηρὶ δαμεὶς Ἄϊδόσδε βεβήκει,
Ἀλκίνοος δὲ τότʼ ἦρχε, θεῶν ἄπο μήδεα εἰδώς.
τοῦ μὲν ἔβη πρὸς δῶμα θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
νόστον Ὀδυσσῆι μεγαλήτορι μητιόωσα.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐς θάλαμον πολυδαίδαλον, ᾧ ἔνι κούρη
κοιμᾶτʼ ἀθανάτῃσι φυὴν καὶ εἶδος ὁμοίη,
Ναυσικάα, θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο,
πὰρ δὲ δύʼ ἀμφίπολοι, Χαρίτων ἄπο κάλλος ἔχουσαι,
σταθμοῖιν ἑκάτερθε· θύραι δʼ ἐπέκειντο φαειναί.
ἡ δʼ ἀνέμου ὡς πνοιὴ ἐπέσσυτο δέμνια κούρης,
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν,
εἰδομένη κούρῃ ναυσικλειτοῖο Δύμαντος,
ἥ οἱ ὁμηλικίη μὲν ἔην, κεχάριστο δὲ θυμῷ.
τῇ μιν ἐεισαμένη προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
Ναυσικάα, τί νύ σʼ ὧδε μεθήμονα γείνατο μήτηρ;
εἵματα μέν τοι κεῖται ἀκηδέα σιγαλόεντα,
σοὶ δὲ γάμος σχεδόν ἐστιν, ἵνα χρὴ καλὰ μὲν αὐτὴν
ἕννυσθαι, τὰ δὲ τοῖσι παρασχεῖν, οἵ κέ σʼ ἄγωνται.
ἐκ γάρ τοι τούτων φάτις ἀνθρώπους ἀναβαίνει
ἐσθλή, χαίρουσιν δὲ πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ.
ἀλλʼ ἴομεν πλυνέουσαι ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφι·
καί τοι ἐγὼ συνέριθος ἅμʼ ἕψομαι, ὄφρα τάχιστα
ἐντύνεαι, ἐπεὶ οὔ τοι ἔτι δὴν παρθένος ἔσσεαι·
ἤδη γάρ σε μνῶνται ἀριστῆες κατὰ δῆμον
πάντων Φαιήκων, ὅθι τοι γένος ἐστὶ καὶ αὐτῇ.
ἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ἐπότρυνον πατέρα κλυτὸν ἠῶθι πρὸ
ἡμιόνους καὶ ἄμαξαν ἐφοπλίσαι, ἥ κεν ἄγῃσι
ζῶστρά τε καὶ πέπλους καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα.
καὶ δὲ σοὶ ὧδʼ αὐτῇ πολὺ κάλλιον ἠὲ πόδεσσιν
ἔρχεσθαι· πολλὸν γὰρ ἀπὸ πλυνοί εἰσι πόληος.
ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη
Οὔλυμπόνδʼ, ὅθι φασὶ θεῶν ἕδος ἀσφαλὲς αἰεὶ
ἔμμεναι. οὔτʼ ἀνέμοισι τινάσσεται οὔτε ποτʼ ὄμβρῳ
δεύεται οὔτε χιὼν ἐπιπίλναται, ἀλλὰ μάλʼ αἴθρη
πέπταται ἀνέφελος, λευκὴ δʼ ἐπιδέδρομεν αἴγλη·
τῷ ἔνι τέρπονται μάκαρες θεοὶ ἤματα πάντα.
ἔνθʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις, ἐπεὶ διεπέφραδε κούρῃ.
αὐτίκα δʼ Ἠὼς ἦλθεν ἐύθρονος, ἥ μιν ἔγειρε
Ναυσικάαν ἐύπεπλον· ἄφαρ δʼ ἀπεθαύμασʼ ὄνειρον,
βῆ δʼ ἰέναι διὰ δώμαθʼ, ἵνʼ ἀγγείλειε τοκεῦσιν,
πατρὶ φίλῳ καὶ μητρί· κιχήσατο δʼ ἔνδον ἐόντας·
ἡ μὲν ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἧστο σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν
ἠλάκατα στρωφῶσʼ ἁλιπόρφυρα· τῷ δὲ θύραζε
ἐρχομένῳ ξύμβλητο μετὰ κλειτοὺς βασιλῆας
ἐς βουλήν, ἵνα μιν κάλεον Φαίηκες ἀγαυοί.
ἡ δὲ μάλʼ ἄγχι στᾶσα φίλον πατέρα προσέειπε·
πάππα φίλʼ, οὐκ ἂν δή μοι ἐφοπλίσσειας ἀπήνην
ὑψηλὴν ἐύκυκλον, ἵνα κλυτὰ εἵματʼ ἄγωμαι
ἐς ποταμὸν πλυνέουσα, τά μοι ῥερυπωμένα κεῖται;
καὶ δὲ σοὶ αὐτῷ ἔοικε μετὰ πρώτοισιν ἐόντα
βουλὰς βουλεύειν καθαρὰ χροΐ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα.
πέντε δέ τοι φίλοι υἷες ἐνὶ μεγάροις γεγάασιν,
οἱ δύʼ ὀπυίοντες, τρεῖς δʼ ἠίθεοι θαλέθοντες·
οἱ δʼ αἰεὶ ἐθέλουσι νεόπλυτα εἵματʼ ἔχοντες
ἐς χορὸν ἔρχεσθαι· τὰ δʼ ἐμῇ φρενὶ πάντα μέμηλεν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ· αἴδετο γὰρ θαλερὸν γάμον ἐξονομῆναι
πατρὶ φίλῳ. ὁ δὲ πάντα νόει καὶ ἀμείβετο μύθῳ·
οὔτε τοι ἡμιόνων φθονέω, τέκος, οὔτε τευ ἄλλου.
ἔρχευ· ἀτάρ τοι δμῶες ἐφοπλίσσουσιν ἀπήνην
ὑψηλὴν ἐύκυκλον, ὑπερτερίῃ ἀραρυῖαν.
ὣς εἰπὼν δμώεσσιν ἐκέκλετο, τοὶ δʼ ἐπίθοντο.
οἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐκτὸς ἄμαξαν ἐύτροχον ἡμιονείην
ὥπλεον, ἡμιόνους θʼ ὕπαγον ζεῦξάν θʼ ὑπʼ ἀπήνῃ·
κούρη δʼ ἐκ θαλάμοιο φέρεν ἐσθῆτα φαεινήν.
καὶ τὴν μὲν κατέθηκεν ἐυξέστῳ ἐπʼ ἀπήνῃ,
μήτηρ δʼ ἐν κίστῃ ἐτίθει μενοεικέʼ ἐδωδὴν
παντοίην, ἐν δʼ ὄψα τίθει, ἐν δʼ οἶνον ἔχευεν
ἀσκῷ ἐν αἰγείῳ· κούρη δʼ ἐπεβήσετʼ ἀπήνης.
δῶκεν δὲ χρυσέῃ ἐν ληκύθῳ ὑγρὸν ἔλαιον,
ἧος χυτλώσαιτο σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξίν.
ἡ δʼ ἔλαβεν μάστιγα καὶ ἡνία σιγαλόεντα,
μάστιξεν δʼ ἐλάαν· καναχὴ δʼ ἦν ἡμιόνοιιν.
αἱ δʼ ἄμοτον τανύοντο, φέρον δʼ ἐσθῆτα καὶ αὐτήν,
οὐκ οἴην, ἅμα τῇ γε καὶ ἀμφίπολοι κίον ἄλλαι.
αἱ δʼ ὅτε δὴ ποταμοῖο ῥόον περικαλλέʼ ἵκοντο,
ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι πλυνοὶ ἦσαν ἐπηετανοί, πολὺ δʼ ὕδωρ
καλὸν ὑπεκπρόρεεν μάλα περ ῥυπόωντα καθῆραι,
ἔνθʼ αἵ γʼ ἡμιόνους μὲν ὑπεκπροέλυσαν ἀπήνης.
καὶ τὰς μὲν σεῦαν ποταμὸν πάρα δινήεντα
τρώγειν ἄγρωστιν μελιηδέα· ταὶ δʼ ἀπʼ ἀπήνης
εἵματα χερσὶν ἕλοντο καὶ ἐσφόρεον μέλαν ὕδωρ,
στεῖβον δʼ ἐν βόθροισι θοῶς ἔριδα προφέρουσαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πλῦνάν τε κάθηράν τε ῥύπα πάντα,
ἑξείης πέτασαν παρὰ θῖνʼ ἁλός, ἧχι μάλιστα
λάιγγας ποτὶ χέρσον ἀποπλύνεσκε θάλασσα.
αἱ δὲ λοεσσάμεναι καὶ χρισάμεναι λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ
δεῖπνον ἔπειθʼ εἵλοντο παρʼ ὄχθῃσιν ποταμοῖο,
εἵματα δʼ ἠελίοιο μένον τερσήμεναι αὐγῇ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σίτου τάρφθεν δμῳαί τε καὶ αὐτή,
σφαίρῃ ταὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπαιζον, ἀπὸ κρήδεμνα βαλοῦσαι·
τῇσι δὲ Ναυσικάα λευκώλενος ἤρχετο μολπῆς.
οἵη δʼ Ἄρτεμις εἶσι κατʼ οὔρεα ἰοχέαιρα,
ἢ κατὰ Τηΰγετον περιμήκετον ἢ Ἐρύμανθον,
τερπομένη κάπροισι καὶ ὠκείῃς ἐλάφοισι·
τῇ δέ θʼ ἅμα νύμφαι, κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο,
ἀγρονόμοι παίζουσι, γέγηθε δέ τε φρένα Λητώ·
πασάων δʼ ὑπὲρ ἥ γε κάρη ἔχει ἠδὲ μέτωπα,
ῥεῖά τʼ ἀριγνώτη πέλεται, καλαὶ δέ τε πᾶσαι·
ὣς ἥ γʼ ἀμφιπόλοισι μετέπρεπε παρθένος ἀδμής.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἄρʼ ἔμελλε πάλιν οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι
ζεύξασʼ ἡμιόνους πτύξασά τε εἵματα καλά,
ἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
ὡς Ὀδυσεὺς ἔγροιτο, ἴδοι τʼ ἐυώπιδα κούρην,
ἥ οἱ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν πόλιν ἡγήσαιτο.
σφαῖραν ἔπειτʼ ἔρριψε μετʼ ἀμφίπολον βασίλεια·
ἀμφιπόλου μὲν ἅμαρτε, βαθείῃ δʼ ἔμβαλε δίνῃ·
αἱ δʼ ἐπὶ μακρὸν ἄυσαν· ὁ δʼ ἔγρετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἑζόμενος δʼ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν·
ὤ μοι ἐγώ, τέων αὖτε βροτῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἱκάνω;
ἦ ῥʼ οἵ γʼ ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,
ἦε φιλόξεινοι καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής;
ὥς τέ με κουράων ἀμφήλυθε θῆλυς ἀυτή·
νυμφάων, αἳ ἔχουσʼ ὀρέων αἰπεινὰ κάρηνα
καὶ πηγὰς ποταμῶν καὶ πίσεα ποιήεντα.
ἦ νύ που ἀνθρώπων εἰμὶ σχεδὸν αὐδηέντων;
ἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ἐγὼν αὐτὸς πειρήσομαι ἠδὲ ἴδωμαι.
ὣς εἰπὼν θάμνων ὑπεδύσετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἐκ πυκινῆς δʼ ὕλης πτόρθον κλάσε χειρὶ παχείῃ
φύλλων, ὡς ῥύσαιτο περὶ χροῒ μήδεα φωτός.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ὥς τε λέων ὀρεσίτροφος ἀλκὶ πεποιθώς,
ὅς τʼ εἶσʼ ὑόμενος καὶ ἀήμενος, ἐν δέ οἱ ὄσσε
δαίεται· αὐτὰρ ὁ βουσὶ μετέρχεται ἢ ὀίεσσιν
ἠὲ μετʼ ἀγροτέρας ἐλάφους· κέλεται δέ ἑ γαστὴρ
μήλων πειρήσοντα καὶ ἐς πυκινὸν δόμον ἐλθεῖν·
ὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κούρῃσιν ἐυπλοκάμοισιν ἔμελλε
μίξεσθαι, γυμνός περ ἐών· χρειὼ γὰρ ἵκανε.
σμερδαλέος δʼ αὐτῇσι φάνη κεκακωμένος ἅλμῃ,
τρέσσαν δʼ ἄλλυδις ἄλλη ἐπʼ ἠιόνας προὐχούσας·
οἴη δʼ Ἀλκινόου θυγάτηρ μένε· τῇ γὰρ Ἀθήνη
θάρσος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε καὶ ἐκ δέος εἵλετο γυίων.
στῆ δʼ ἄντα σχομένη· ὁ δὲ μερμήριξεν Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἢ γούνων λίσσοιτο λαβὼν ἐυώπιδα κούρην,
ἦ αὔτως ἐπέεσσιν ἀποσταδὰ μειλιχίοισι
λίσσοιτʼ, εἰ δείξειε πόλιν καὶ εἵματα δοίη.
ὣς ἄρα οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,
λίσσεσθαι ἐπέεσσιν ἀποσταδὰ μειλιχίοισι,
μή οἱ γοῦνα λαβόντι χολώσαιτο φρένα κούρη.
αὐτίκα μειλίχιον καὶ κερδαλέον φάτο μῦθον.
γουνοῦμαί σε, ἄνασσα· θεός νύ τις, ἦ βροτός ἐσσι;
εἰ μέν τις θεός ἐσσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,
Ἀρτέμιδί σε ἐγώ γε, Διὸς κούρῃ μεγάλοιο,
εἶδός τε μέγεθός τε φυήν τʼ ἄγχιστα ἐίσκω·
εἰ δέ τίς ἐσσι βροτῶν, τοὶ ἐπὶ χθονὶ ναιετάουσιν,
τρὶς μάκαρες μὲν σοί γε πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ,
τρὶς μάκαρες δὲ κασίγνητοι· μάλα πού σφισι θυμὸς
αἰὲν ἐυφροσύνῃσιν ἰαίνεται εἵνεκα σεῖο,
λευσσόντων τοιόνδε θάλος χορὸν εἰσοιχνεῦσαν.
κεῖνος δʼ αὖ περὶ κῆρι μακάρτατος ἔξοχον ἄλλων,
ὅς κέ σʼ ἐέδνοισι βρίσας οἶκόνδʼ ἀγάγηται.
οὐ γάρ πω τοιοῦτον ἴδον βροτὸν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
οὔτʼ ἄνδρʼ οὔτε γυναῖκα· σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.
Δήλῳ δή ποτε τοῖον Ἀπόλλωνος παρὰ βωμῷ
φοίνικος νέον ἔρνος ἀνερχόμενον ἐνόησα·
ἦλθον γὰρ καὶ κεῖσε, πολὺς δέ μοι ἕσπετο λαός,
τὴν ὁδὸν ᾗ δὴ μέλλεν ἐμοὶ κακὰ κήδεʼ ἔσεσθαι.
ὣς δʼ αὔτως καὶ κεῖνο ἰδὼν ἐτεθήπεα θυμῷ
δήν, ἐπεὶ οὔ πω τοῖον ἀνήλυθεν ἐκ δόρυ γαίης,
ὡς σέ, γύναι, ἄγαμαί τε τέθηπά τε, δείδια δʼ αἰνῶς
γούνων ἅψασθαι· χαλεπὸν δέ με πένθος ἱκάνει.
χθιζὸς ἐεικοστῷ φύγον ἤματι οἴνοπα πόντον·
τόφρα δέ μʼ αἰεὶ κῦμʼ ἐφόρει κραιπναί τε θύελλαι
νήσου ἀπʼ Ὠγυγίης. νῦν δʼ ἐνθάδε κάββαλε δαίμων,
ὄφρʼ ἔτι που καὶ τῇδε πάθω κακόν· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω
παύσεσθʼ, ἀλλʼ ἔτι πολλὰ θεοὶ τελέουσι πάροιθεν.
ἀλλά, ἄνασσʼ, ἐλέαιρε· σὲ γὰρ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας
ἐς πρώτην ἱκόμην, τῶν δʼ ἄλλων οὔ τινα οἶδα
ἀνθρώπων, οἳ τήνδε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἔχουσιν.
ἄστυ δέ μοι δεῖξον, δὸς δὲ ῥάκος ἀμφιβαλέσθαι,
εἴ τί που εἴλυμα σπείρων ἔχες ἐνθάδʼ ἰοῦσα.
σοὶ δὲ θεοὶ τόσα δοῖεν ὅσα φρεσὶ σῇσι μενοινᾷς,
ἄνδρα τε καὶ οἶκον, καὶ ὁμοφροσύνην ὀπάσειαν
ἐσθλήν· οὐ μὲν γὰρ τοῦ γε κρεῖσσον καὶ ἄρειον,
ἢ ὅθʼ ὁμοφρονέοντε νοήμασιν οἶκον ἔχητον
ἀνὴρ ἠδὲ γυνή· πόλλʼ ἄλγεα δυσμενέεσσι,
χάρματα δʼ εὐμενέτῃσι, μάλιστα δέ τʼ ἔκλυον αὐτοί.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Ναυσικάα λευκώλενος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ οὔτε κακῷ οὔτʼ ἄφρονι φωτὶ ἔοικας·
Ζεὺς δʼ αὐτὸς νέμει ὄλβον Ὀλύμπιος ἀνθρώποισιν,
ἐσθλοῖς ἠδὲ κακοῖσιν, ὅπως ἐθέλῃσιν, ἑκάστῳ·
καί που σοὶ τάδʼ ἔδωκε, σὲ δὲ χρὴ τετλάμεν ἔμπης.
νῦν δʼ, ἐπεὶ ἡμετέρην τε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἱκάνεις,
οὔτʼ οὖν ἐσθῆτος δευήσεαι οὔτε τευ ἄλλου,
ὧν ἐπέοιχʼ ἱκέτην ταλαπείριον ἀντιάσαντα.
ἄστυ δέ τοι δείξω, ἐρέω δέ τοι οὔνομα λαῶν.
Φαίηκες μὲν τήνδε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἔχουσιν,
εἰμὶ δʼ ἐγὼ θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο,
τοῦ δʼ ἐκ Φαιήκων ἔχεται κάρτος τε βίη τε.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφιπόλοισιν ἐυπλοκάμοισι κέλευσε·
στῆτέ μοι, ἀμφίπολοι· πόσε φεύγετε φῶτα ἰδοῦσαι;
ἦ μή πού τινα δυσμενέων φάσθʼ ἔμμεναι ἀνδρῶν;
οὐκ ἔσθʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ διερὸς βροτὸς οὐδὲ γένηται,
ὅς κεν Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἵκηται
δηιοτῆτα φέρων· μάλα γὰρ φίλοι ἀθανάτοισιν.
οἰκέομεν δʼ ἀπάνευθε πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ,
ἔσχατοι, οὐδέ τις ἄμμι βροτῶν ἐπιμίσγεται ἄλλος.
ἀλλʼ ὅδε τις δύστηνος ἀλώμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνει,
τὸν νῦν χρὴ κομέειν· πρὸς γὰρ Διός εἰσιν ἅπαντες
ξεῖνοί τε πτωχοί τε, δόσις δʼ ὀλίγη τε φίλη τε.
ἀλλὰ δότʼ, ἀμφίπολοι, ξείνῳ βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε,
λούσατέ τʼ ἐν ποταμῷ, ὅθʼ ἐπὶ σκέπας ἔστʼ ἀνέμοιο.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἔσταν τε καὶ ἀλλήλῃσι κέλευσαν,
κὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆʼ εἷσαν ἐπὶ σκέπας, ὡς ἐκέλευσεν
Ναυσικάα θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο·
πὰρ δʼ ἄρα οἱ φᾶρός τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἔθηκαν,
δῶκαν δὲ χρυσέῃ ἐν ληκύθῳ ὑγρὸν ἔλαιον,
ἤνωγον δʼ ἄρα μιν λοῦσθαι ποταμοῖο ῥοῇσιν.
δή ῥα τότʼ ἀμφιπόλοισι μετηύδα δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
ἀμφίπολοι, στῆθʼ οὕτω ἀπόπροθεν, ὄφρʼ ἐγὼ αὐτὸς
ἅλμην ὤμοιιν ἀπολούσομαι, ἀμφὶ δʼ ἐλαίῳ
χρίσομαι· ἦ γὰρ δηρὸν ἀπὸ χροός ἐστιν ἀλοιφή.
ἄντην δʼ οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε λοέσσομαι· αἰδέομαι γὰρ
γυμνοῦσθαι κούρῃσιν ἐυπλοκάμοισι μετελθών.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἀπάνευθεν ἴσαν, εἶπον δʼ ἄρα κούρῃ.
αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐκ ποταμοῦ χρόα νίζετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἅλμην, ἥ οἱ νῶτα καὶ εὐρέας ἄμπεχεν ὤμους,
ἐκ κεφαλῆς δʼ ἔσμηχεν ἁλὸς χνόον ἀτρυγέτοιο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα λοέσσατο καὶ λίπʼ ἄλειψεν,
ἀμφὶ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσαθʼ ἅ οἱ πόρε παρθένος ἀδμής,
τὸν μὲν Ἀθηναίη θῆκεν Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα
μείζονά τʼ εἰσιδέειν καὶ πάσσονα, κὰδ δὲ κάρητος
οὔλας ἧκε κόμας, ὑακινθίνῳ ἄνθει ὁμοίας.
ὡς δʼ ὅτε τις χρυσὸν περιχεύεται ἀργύρῳ ἀνὴρ
ἴδρις, ὃν Ἥφαιστος δέδαεν καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
τέχνην παντοίην, χαρίεντα δὲ ἔργα τελείει,
ὣς ἄρα τῷ κατέχευε χάριν κεφαλῇ τε καὶ ὤμοις.
ἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπάνευθε κιὼν ἐπὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης,
κάλλεϊ καὶ χάρισι στίλβων· θηεῖτο δὲ κούρη.
δή ῥα τότʼ ἀμφιπόλοισιν ἐυπλοκάμοισι μετηύδα·
κλῦτέ μευ, ἀμφίπολοι λευκώλενοι, ὄφρα τι εἴπω.
οὐ πάντων ἀέκητι θεῶν, οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν,
Φαιήκεσσʼ ὅδʼ ἀνὴρ ἐπιμίσγεται ἀντιθέοισι·
πρόσθεν μὲν γὰρ δή μοι ἀεικέλιος δέατʼ εἶναι,
νῦν δὲ θεοῖσιν ἔοικε, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.
αἲ γὰρ ἐμοὶ τοιόσδε πόσις κεκλημένος εἴη
ἐνθάδε ναιετάων, καί οἱ ἅδοι αὐτόθι μίμνειν.
ἀλλὰ δότʼ, ἀμφίπολοι, ξείνῳ βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἄρα τῆς μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο,
πὰρ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆι ἔθεσαν βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε.
ἦ τοι ὁ πῖνε καὶ ἦσθε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἁρπαλέως· δηρὸν γὰρ ἐδητύος ἦεν ἄπαστος.
αὐτὰρ Ναυσικάα λευκώλενος ἄλλʼ ἐνόησεν·
εἵματʼ ἄρα πτύξασα τίθει καλῆς ἐπʼ ἀπήνης,
ζεῦξεν δʼ ἡμιόνους κρατερώνυχας, ἂν δʼ ἔβη αὐτή,
ὤτρυνεν δʼ Ὀδυσῆα, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
ὄρσεο δὴ νῦν, ξεῖνε, πόλινδʼ ἴμεν ὄφρα σε πέμψω
πατρὸς ἐμοῦ πρὸς δῶμα δαΐφρονος, ἔνθα σέ φημι
πάντων Φαιήκων εἰδησέμεν ὅσσοι ἄριστοι.
ἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὧδʼ ἔρδειν, δοκέεις δέ μοι οὐκ ἀπινύσσειν·
ὄφρʼ ἂν μέν κʼ ἀγροὺς ἴομεν καὶ ἔργʼ ἀνθρώπων,
τόφρα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι μεθʼ ἡμιόνους καὶ ἄμαξαν
καρπαλίμως ἔρχεσθαι· ἐγὼ δʼ ὁδὸν ἡγεμονεύσω.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν πόλιος ἐπιβήομεν, ἣν πέρι πύργος
ὑψηλός, καλὸς δὲ λιμὴν ἑκάτερθε πόληος,
λεπτὴ δʼ εἰσίθμη· νῆες δʼ ὁδὸν ἀμφιέλισσαι
εἰρύαται· πᾶσιν γὰρ ἐπίστιόν ἐστιν ἑκάστῳ.
ἔνθα δέ τέ σφʼ ἀγορὴ καλὸν Ποσιδήιον ἀμφίς,
ῥυτοῖσιν λάεσσι κατωρυχέεσσʼ ἀραρυῖα.
ἔνθα δὲ νηῶν ὅπλα μελαινάων ἀλέγουσι,
πείσματα καὶ σπεῖρα, καὶ ἀποξύνουσιν ἐρετμά.
οὐ γὰρ Φαιήκεσσι μέλει βιὸς οὐδὲ φαρέτρη,
ἀλλʼ ἱστοὶ καὶ ἐρετμὰ νεῶν καὶ νῆες ἐῖσαι,
ᾗσιν ἀγαλλόμενοι πολιὴν περόωσι θάλασσαν.
τῶν ἀλεείνω φῆμιν ἀδευκέα, μή τις ὀπίσσω
μωμεύῃ· μάλα δʼ εἰσὶν ὑπερφίαλοι κατὰ δῆμον·
καί νύ τις ὧδʼ εἴπῃσι κακώτερος ἀντιβολήσας·
τίς δʼ ὅδε Ναυσικάᾳ ἕπεται καλός τε μέγας τε
ξεῖνος; ποῦ δέ μιν εὗρε; πόσις νύ οἱ ἔσσεται αὐτῇ.
ἦ τινά που πλαγχθέντα κομίσσατο ἧς ἀπὸ νηὸς
ἀνδρῶν τηλεδαπῶν, ἐπεὶ οὔ τινες ἐγγύθεν εἰσίν·
ἤ τίς οἱ εὐξαμένῃ πολυάρητος θεὸς ἦλθεν
οὐρανόθεν καταβάς, ἕξει δέ μιν ἤματα πάντα.
βέλτερον, εἰ καὐτή περ ἐποιχομένη πόσιν εὗρεν
ἄλλοθεν· ἦ γὰρ τούσδε γʼ ἀτιμάζει κατὰ δῆμον
Φαίηκας, τοί μιν μνῶνται πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοί.
ὣς ἐρέουσιν, ἐμοὶ δέ κʼ ὀνείδεα ταῦτα γένοιτο.
καὶ δʼ ἄλλῃ νεμεσῶ, ἥ τις τοιαῦτά γε ῥέζοι,
ἥ τʼ ἀέκητι φίλων πατρὸς καὶ μητρὸς ἐόντων,
ἀνδράσι μίσγηται, πρίν γʼ ἀμφάδιον γάμον ἐλθεῖν.
ξεῖνε, σὺ δʼ ὦκʼ ἐμέθεν ξυνίει ἔπος, ὄφρα τάχιστα
πομπῆς καὶ νόστοιο τύχῃς παρὰ πατρὸς ἐμοῖο.
δήεις ἀγλαὸν ἄλσος Ἀθήνης ἄγχι κελεύθου
αἰγείρων· ἐν δὲ κρήνη νάει, ἀμφὶ δὲ λειμών·
ἔνθα δὲ πατρὸς ἐμοῦ τέμενος τεθαλυῖά τʼ ἀλωή,
τόσσον ἀπὸ πτόλιος, ὅσσον τε γέγωνε βοήσας.
ἔνθα καθεζόμενος μεῖναι χρόνον, εἰς ὅ κεν ἡμεῖς
ἄστυδε ἔλθωμεν καὶ ἱκώμεθα δώματα πατρός.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ἡμέας ἔλπῃ ποτὶ δώματʼ ἀφῖχθαι,
καὶ τότε Φαιήκων ἴμεν ἐς πόλιν ἠδʼ ἐρέεσθαι
δώματα πατρὸς ἐμοῦ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο.
ῥεῖα δʼ ἀρίγνωτʼ ἐστί, καὶ ἂν πάϊς ἡγήσαιτο
νήπιος· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι ἐοικότα τοῖσι τέτυκται
δώματα Φαιήκων, οἷος δόμος Ἀλκινόοιο
ἥρωος. ἀλλʼ ὁπότʼ ἄν σε δόμοι κεκύθωσι καὶ αὐλή,
ὦκα μάλα μεγάροιο διελθέμεν, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἵκηαι
μητέρʼ ἐμήν· ἡ δʼ ἧσται ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἐν πυρὸς αὐγῇ,
ἠλάκατα στρωφῶσʼ ἁλιπόρφυρα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι,
κίονι κεκλιμένη· δμωαὶ δέ οἱ εἵατʼ ὄπισθεν.
ἔνθα δὲ πατρὸς ἐμοῖο θρόνος ποτικέκλιται αὐτῇ,
τῷ ὅ γε οἰνοποτάζει ἐφήμενος ἀθάνατος ὥς.
τὸν παραμειψάμενος μητρὸς περὶ γούνασι χεῖρας
βάλλειν ἡμετέρης, ἵνα νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἴδηαι
χαίρων καρπαλίμως, εἰ καὶ μάλα τηλόθεν ἐσσί.
εἴ κέν τοι κείνη γε φίλα φρονέῃσʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,
ἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐυκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἵμασεν μάστιγι φαεινῇ
ἡμιόνους· αἱ δʼ ὦκα λίπον ποταμοῖο ῥέεθρα.
αἱ δʼ ἐὺ μὲν τρώχων, ἐὺ δὲ πλίσσοντο πόδεσσιν·
ἡ δὲ μάλʼ ἡνιόχευεν, ὅπως ἅμʼ ἑποίατο πεζοὶ
ἀμφίπολοί τʼ Ὀδυσεύς τε, νόῳ δʼ ἐπέβαλλεν ἱμάσθλην.
δύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος καὶ τοὶ κλυτὸν ἄλσος ἵκοντο
ἱρὸν Ἀθηναίης, ἵνʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἠρᾶτο Διὸς κούρῃ μεγάλοιο·
κλῦθί μευ, αἰγιόχοιο Διὸς τέκος, Ἀτρυτώνη·
νῦν δή πέρ μευ ἄκουσον, ἐπεὶ πάρος οὔ ποτʼ ἄκουσας
ῥαιομένου, ὅτε μʼ ἔρραιε κλυτὸς ἐννοσίγαιος.
δός μʼ ἐς Φαίηκας φίλον ἐλθεῖν ἠδʼ ἐλεεινόν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος, τοῦ δʼ ἔκλυε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.
αὐτῷ δʼ οὔ πω φαίνετʼ ἐναντίη· αἴδετο γάρ ῥα
πατροκασίγνητον· ὁ δʼ ἐπιζαφελῶς μενέαινεν
ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆι πάρος ἣν γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.

### Book 7

ὧς ὁ μὲν ἔνθʼ ἠρᾶτο πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
κούρην δὲ προτὶ ἄστυ φέρεν μένος ἡμιόνοιιν.
ἡ δʼ ὅτε δὴ οὗ πατρὸς ἀγακλυτὰ δώμαθʼ ἵκανε,
στῆσεν ἄρʼ ἐν προθύροισι, κασίγνητοι δέ μιν ἀμφὶς
ἵσταντʼ ἀθανάτοις ἐναλίγκιοι, οἵ ῥʼ ὑπʼ ἀπήνης
ἡμιόνους ἔλυον ἐσθῆτά τε ἔσφερον εἴσω.
αὐτὴ δʼ ἐς θάλαμον ἑὸν ἤιε· δαῖε δέ οἱ πῦρ
γρῆυς Ἀπειραίη, θαλαμηπόλος Εὐρυμέδουσα,
τήν ποτʼ Ἀπείρηθεν νέες ἤγαγον ἀμφιέλισσαι·
Ἀλκινόῳ δʼ αὐτὴν γέρας ἔξελον, οὕνεκα πᾶσιν
Φαιήκεσσιν ἄνασσε, θεοῦ δʼ ὣς δῆμος ἄκουεν·
ἣ τρέφε Ναυσικάαν λευκώλενον ἐν μεγάροισιν.
ἥ οἱ πῦρ ἀνέκαιε καὶ εἴσω δόρπον ἐκόσμει.
καὶ τότʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς ὦρτο πόλινδʼ ἴμεν· ἀμφὶ δʼ Ἀθήνη
πολλὴν ἠέρα χεῦε φίλα φρονέουσʼ Ὀδυσῆι,
μή τις Φαιήκων μεγαθύμων ἀντιβολήσας
κερτομέοι τʼ ἐπέεσσι καὶ ἐξερέοιθʼ ὅτις εἴη.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἄρʼ ἔμελλε πόλιν δύσεσθαι ἐραννήν,
ἔνθα οἱ ἀντεβόλησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
παρθενικῇ ἐικυῖα νεήνιδι, κάλπιν ἐχούσῃ.
στῆ δὲ πρόσθʼ αὐτοῦ, ὁ δʼ ἀνείρετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ τέκος, οὐκ ἄν μοι δόμον ἀνέρος ἡγήσαιο
Ἀλκινόου, ὃς τοῖσδε μετʼ ἀνθρώποισι ἀνάσσει;
καὶ γὰρ ἐγὼ ξεῖνος ταλαπείριος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνω
τηλόθεν ἐξ ἀπίης γαίης· τῷ οὔ τινα οἶδα
ἀνθρώπων, οἳ τήνδε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἔχουσιν.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε πάτερ, δόμον, ὅν με κελεύεις,
δείξω, ἐπεί μοι πατρὸς ἀμύμονος ἐγγύθι ναίει.
ἀλλʼ ἴθι σιγῇ τοῖον, ἐγὼ δʼ ὁδὸν ἡγεμονεύσω,
μηδέ τινʼ ἀνθρώπων προτιόσσεο μηδʼ ἐρέεινε.
οὐ γὰρ ξείνους οἵδε μάλʼ ἀνθρώπους ἀνέχονται,
οὐδʼ ἀγαπαζόμενοι φιλέουσʼ ὅς κʼ ἄλλοθεν ἔλθῃ.
νηυσὶ θοῇσιν τοί γε πεποιθότες ὠκείῃσι
λαῖτμα μέγʼ ἐκπερόωσιν, ἐπεί σφισι δῶκʼ ἐνοσίχθων·
τῶν νέες ὠκεῖαι ὡς εἰ πτερὸν ἠὲ νόημα.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἡγήσατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
καρπαλίμως· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα μετʼ ἴχνια βαῖνε θεοῖο.
τὸν δʼ ἄρα Φαίηκες ναυσικλυτοὶ οὐκ ἐνόησαν
ἐρχόμενον κατὰ ἄστυ διὰ σφέας· οὐ γὰρ Ἀθήνη
εἴα ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεός, ἥ ῥά οἱ ἀχλὺν
θεσπεσίην κατέχευε φίλα φρονέουσʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ.
θαύμαζεν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς λιμένας καὶ νῆας ἐίσας
αὐτῶν θʼ ἡρώων ἀγορὰς καὶ τείχεα μακρὰ
ὑψηλά, σκολόπεσσιν ἀρηρότα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ βασιλῆος ἀγακλυτὰ δώμαθʼ ἵκοντο,
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
οὗτος δή τοι, ξεῖνε πάτερ, δόμος, ὅν με κελεύεις
πεφραδέμεν· δήεις δὲ διοτρεφέας βασιλῆας
δαίτην δαινυμένους· σὺ δʼ ἔσω κίε, μηδέ τι θυμῷ
τάρβει· θαρσαλέος γὰρ ἀνὴρ ἐν πᾶσιν ἀμείνων
ἔργοισιν τελέθει, εἰ καί ποθεν ἄλλοθεν ἔλθοι.
δέσποιναν μὲν πρῶτα κιχήσεαι ἐν μεγάροισιν·
Ἀρήτη δʼ ὄνομʼ ἐστὶν ἐπώνυμον, ἐκ δὲ τοκήων
τῶν αὐτῶν οἵ περ τέκον Ἀλκίνοον βασιλῆα.
Ναυσίθοον μὲν πρῶτα Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων
γείνατο καὶ Περίβοια, γυναικῶν εἶδος ἀρίστη,
ὁπλοτάτη θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Εὐρυμέδοντος,
ὅς ποθʼ ὑπερθύμοισι Γιγάντεσσιν βασίλευεν.
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ὤλεσε λαὸν ἀτάσθαλον, ὤλετο δʼ αὐτός·
τῇ δὲ Ποσειδάων ἐμίγη καὶ ἐγείνατο παῖδα
Ναυσίθοον μεγάθυμον, ὃς ἐν Φαίηξιν ἄνασσε·
Ναυσίθοος δʼ ἔτεκεν Ῥηξήνορά τʼ Ἀλκίνοόν τε.
τὸν μὲν ἄκουρον ἐόντα βάλʼ ἀργυρότοξος Ἀπόλλων
νυμφίον ἐν μεγάρῳ, μίαν οἴην παῖδα λιπόντα
Ἀρήτην· τὴν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος ποιήσατʼ ἄκοιτιν,
καί μιν ἔτισʼ, ὡς οὔ τις ἐπὶ χθονὶ τίεται ἄλλη,
ὅσσαι νῦν γε γυναῖκες ὑπʼ ἀνδράσιν οἶκον ἔχουσιν.
ὣς κείνη περὶ κῆρι τετίμηταί τε καὶ ἔστιν
ἔκ τε φίλων παίδων ἔκ τʼ αὐτοῦ Ἀλκινόοιο
καὶ λαῶν, οἵ μίν ῥα θεὸν ὣς εἰσορόωντες
δειδέχαται μύθοισιν, ὅτε στείχῃσʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ.
οὐ μὲν γάρ τι νόου γε καὶ αὐτὴ δεύεται ἐσθλοῦ·
ᾗσι τʼ ἐὺ φρονέῃσι καὶ ἀνδράσι νείκεα λύει.
εἴ κέν τοι κείνη γε φίλα φρονέῃσʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,
ἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐς ὑψόροφον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη
πόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον, λίπε δὲ Σχερίην ἐρατεινήν,
ἵκετο δʼ ἐς Μαραθῶνα καὶ εὐρυάγυιαν Ἀθήνην,
δῦνε δʼ Ἐρεχθῆος πυκινὸν δόμον. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
Ἀλκινόου πρὸς δώματʼ ἴε κλυτά· πολλὰ δέ οἱ κῆρ
ὥρμαινʼ ἱσταμένῳ, πρὶν χάλκεον οὐδὸν ἱκέσθαι.
ὥς τε γὰρ ἠελίου αἴγλη πέλεν ἠὲ σελήνης
δῶμα καθʼ ὑψερεφὲς μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο.
χάλκεοι μὲν γὰρ τοῖχοι ἐληλέδατʼ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,
ἐς μυχὸν ἐξ οὐδοῦ, περὶ δὲ θριγκὸς κυάνοιο·
χρύσειαι δὲ θύραι πυκινὸν δόμον ἐντὸς ἔεργον·
σταθμοὶ δʼ ἀργύρεοι ἐν χαλκέῳ ἕστασαν οὐδῷ,
ἀργύρεον δʼ ἐφʼ ὑπερθύριον, χρυσέη δὲ κορώνη.
χρύσειοι δʼ ἑκάτερθε καὶ ἀργύρεοι κύνες ἦσαν,
οὓς Ἥφαιστος ἔτευξεν ἰδυίῃσι πραπίδεσσι
δῶμα φυλασσέμεναι μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο,
ἀθανάτους ὄντας καὶ ἀγήρως ἤματα πάντα.
ἐν δὲ θρόνοι περὶ τοῖχον ἐρηρέδατʼ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,
ἐς μυχὸν ἐξ οὐδοῖο διαμπερές, ἔνθʼ ἐνὶ πέπλοι
λεπτοὶ ἐύννητοι βεβλήατο, ἔργα γυναικῶν.
ἔνθα δὲ Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἑδριόωντο
πίνοντες καὶ ἔδοντες· ἐπηετανὸν γὰρ ἔχεσκον.
χρύσειοι δʼ ἄρα κοῦροι ἐυδμήτων ἐπὶ βωμῶν
ἕστασαν αἰθομένας δαΐδας μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχοντες,
φαίνοντες νύκτας κατὰ δώματα δαιτυμόνεσσι.
πεντήκοντα δέ οἱ δμωαὶ κατὰ δῶμα γυναῖκες
αἱ μὲν ἀλετρεύουσι μύλῃς ἔπι μήλοπα καρπόν,
αἱ δʼ ἱστοὺς ὑφόωσι καὶ ἠλάκατα στρωφῶσιν
ἥμεναι, οἷά τε φύλλα μακεδνῆς αἰγείροιο·
καιρουσσέων δʼ ὀθονέων ἀπολείβεται ὑγρὸν ἔλαιον.
ὅσσον Φαίηκες περὶ πάντων ἴδριες ἀνδρῶν
νῆα θοὴν ἐνὶ πόντῳ ἐλαυνέμεν, ὣς δὲ γυναῖκες
ἱστῶν τεχνῆσσαι· πέρι γάρ σφισι δῶκεν Ἀθήνη
ἔργα τʼ ἐπίστασθαι περικαλλέα καὶ φρένας ἐσθλάς.
ἔκτοσθεν δʼ αὐλῆς μέγας ὄρχατος ἄγχι θυράων
τετράγυος· περὶ δʼ ἕρκος ἐλήλαται ἀμφοτέρωθεν.
ἔνθα δὲ δένδρεα μακρὰ πεφύκασι τηλεθόωντα,
ὄγχναι καὶ ῥοιαὶ καὶ μηλέαι ἀγλαόκαρποι
συκέαι τε γλυκεραὶ καὶ ἐλαῖαι τηλεθόωσαι.
τάων οὔ ποτε καρπὸς ἀπόλλυται οὐδʼ ἀπολείπει
χείματος οὐδὲ θέρευς, ἐπετήσιος· ἀλλὰ μάλʼ αἰεὶ
Ζεφυρίη πνείουσα τὰ μὲν φύει, ἄλλα δὲ πέσσει.
ὄγχνη ἐπʼ ὄγχνῃ γηράσκει, μῆλον δʼ ἐπὶ μήλῳ,
αὐτὰρ ἐπὶ σταφυλῇ σταφυλή, σῦκον δʼ ἐπὶ σύκῳ.
ἔνθα δέ οἱ πολύκαρπος ἀλωὴ ἐρρίζωται,
τῆς ἕτερον μὲν θειλόπεδον λευρῷ ἐνὶ χώρῳ
τέρσεται ἠελίῳ, ἑτέρας δʼ ἄρα τε τρυγόωσιν,
ἄλλας δὲ τραπέουσι· πάροιθε δέ τʼ ὄμφακές εἰσιν
ἄνθος ἀφιεῖσαι, ἕτεραι δʼ ὑποπερκάζουσιν.
ἔνθα δὲ κοσμηταὶ πρασιαὶ παρὰ νείατον ὄρχον
παντοῖαι πεφύασιν, ἐπηετανὸν γανόωσαι·
ἐν δὲ δύω κρῆναι ἡ μέν τʼ ἀνὰ κῆπον ἅπαντα
σκίδναται, ἡ δʼ ἑτέρωθεν ὑπʼ αὐλῆς οὐδὸν ἵησι
πρὸς δόμον ὑψηλόν, ὅθεν ὑδρεύοντο πολῖται.
τοῖʼ ἄρʼ ἐν Ἀλκινόοιο θεῶν ἔσαν ἀγλαὰ δῶρα.
ἔνθα στὰς θηεῖτο πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα ἑῷ θηήσατο θυμῷ,
καρπαλίμως ὑπὲρ οὐδὸν ἐβήσετο δώματος εἴσω.
εὗρε δὲ Φαιήκων ἡγήτορας ἠδὲ μέδοντας
σπένδοντας δεπάεσσιν ἐυσκόπῳ ἀργεϊφόντῃ,
ᾧ πυμάτῳ σπένδεσκον, ὅτε μνησαίατο κοίτου.
αὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ διὰ δῶμα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
πολλὴν ἠέρʼ ἔχων, ἥν οἱ περίχευεν Ἀθήνη,
ὄφρʼ ἵκετʼ Ἀρήτην τε καὶ Ἀλκίνοον βασιλῆα.
ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀρήτης βάλε γούνασι χεῖρας Ὀδυσσεύς,
καὶ τότε δή ῥʼ αὐτοῖο πάλιν χύτο θέσφατος ἀήρ.
οἱ δʼ ἄνεῳ ἐγένοντο, δόμον κάτα φῶτα ἰδόντες·
θαύμαζον δʼ ὁρόωντες. ὁ δὲ λιτάνευεν Ὀδυσσεύς·
Ἀρήτη, θύγατερ Ῥηξήνορος ἀντιθέοιο,
σόν τε πόσιν σά τε γούναθʼ ἱκάνω πολλὰ μογήσας
τούσδε τε δαιτυμόνας· τοῖσιν θεοὶ ὄλβια δοῖεν
ζωέμεναι, καὶ παισὶν ἐπιτρέψειεν ἕκαστος
κτήματʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γέρας θʼ ὅ τι δῆμος ἔδωκεν·
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ πομπὴν ὀτρύνετε πατρίδʼ ἱκέσθαι
θᾶσσον, ἐπεὶ δὴ δηθὰ φίλων ἄπο πήματα πάσχω.
ὣς εἰπὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἐν κονίῃσιν
πὰρ πυρί· οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ.
ὀψὲ δὲ δὴ μετέειπε γέρων ἥρως Ἐχένηος,
ὃς δὴ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν προγενέστερος ἦεν
καὶ μύθοισι κέκαστο, παλαιά τε πολλά τε εἰδώς·
ὅ σφιν ἐὺ φρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·
Ἀλκίνοʼ, οὐ μέν τοι τόδε κάλλιον, οὐδὲ ἔοικε,
ξεῖνον μὲν χαμαὶ ἧσθαι ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἐν κονίῃσιν,
οἵδε δὲ σὸν μῦθον ποτιδέγμενοι ἰσχανόωνται.
ἄλλʼ ἄγε δὴ ξεῖνον μὲν ἐπὶ θρόνου ἀργυροήλου
εἷσον ἀναστήσας, σὺ δὲ κηρύκεσσι κέλευσον
οἶνον ἐπικρῆσαι, ἵνα καὶ Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ
σπείσομεν, ὅς θʼ ἱκέτῃσιν ἅμʼ αἰδοίοισιν ὀπηδεῖ·
δόρπον δὲ ξείνῳ ταμίη δότω ἔνδον ἐόντων.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,
χειρὸς ἑλὼν Ὀδυσῆα δαΐφρονα ποικιλομήτην
ὦρσεν ἀπʼ ἐσχαρόφιν καὶ ἐπὶ θρόνου εἷσε φαεινοῦ,
υἱὸν ἀναστήσας ἀγαπήνορα Λαοδάμαντα,
ὅς οἱ πλησίον ἷζε, μάλιστα δέ μιν φιλέεσκεν.
χέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα
καλῇ χρυσείῃ ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,
νίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.
σῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,
εἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων.
αὐτὰρ ὁ πῖνε καὶ ἦσθε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
καὶ τότε κήρυκα προσέφη μένος Ἀλκινόοιο·
Ποντόνοε, κρητῆρα κερασσάμενος μέθυ νεῖμον
πᾶσιν ἀνὰ μέγαρον, ἵνα καὶ Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ
σπείσομεν, ὅς θʼ ἱκέτῃσιν ἅμʼ αἰδοίοισιν ὀπηδεῖ.
ὣς φάτο, Ποντόνοος δὲ μελίφρονα οἶνον ἐκίρνα,
νώμησεν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπαρξάμενος δεπάεσσιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιόν θʼ, ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·
κέκλυτε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες
ὄφρʼ εἴπω τά με θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κελεύει.
νῦν μὲν δαισάμενοι κατακείετε οἴκαδʼ ἰόντες·
ἠῶθεν δὲ γέροντας ἐπὶ πλέονας καλέσαντες
ξεῖνον ἐνὶ μεγάροις ξεινίσσομεν ἠδὲ θεοῖσιν
ῥέξομεν ἱερὰ καλά, ἔπειτα δὲ καὶ περὶ πομπῆς
μνησόμεθʼ, ὥς χʼ ὁ ξεῖνος ἄνευθε πόνου καὶ ἀνίης
πομπῇ ὑφʼ ἡμετέρῃ ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηται
χαίρων καρπαλίμως, εἰ καὶ μάλα τηλόθεν ἐστί,
μηδέ τι μεσσηγύς γε κακὸν καὶ πῆμα πάθῃσι,
πρίν γε τὸν ἧς γαίης ἐπιβήμεναι· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα
πείσεται, ἅσσα οἱ αἶσα κατὰ κλῶθές τε βαρεῖαι
γιγνομένῳ νήσαντο λίνῳ, ὅτε μιν τέκε μήτηρ.
εἰ δέ τις ἀθανάτων γε κατʼ οὐρανοῦ εἰλήλουθεν,
ἄλλο τι δὴ τόδʼ ἔπειτα θεοὶ περιμηχανόωνται.
αἰεὶ γὰρ τὸ πάρος γε θεοὶ φαίνονται ἐναργεῖς
ἡμῖν, εὖτʼ ἔρδωμεν ἀγακλειτὰς ἑκατόμβας,
δαίνυνταί τε παρʼ ἄμμι καθήμενοι ἔνθα περ ἡμεῖς.
εἰ δʼ ἄρα τις καὶ μοῦνος ἰὼν ξύμβληται ὁδίτης,
οὔ τι κατακρύπτουσιν, ἐπεί σφισιν ἐγγύθεν εἰμέν,
ὥς περ Κύκλωπές τε καὶ ἄγρια φῦλα Γιγάντων.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Ἀλκίνοʼ, ἄλλο τί τοι μελέτω φρεσίν· οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γε
ἀθανάτοισιν ἔοικα, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,
οὐ δέμας οὐδὲ φυήν, ἀλλὰ θνητοῖσι βροτοῖσιν.
οὕς τινας ὑμεῖς ἴστε μάλιστʼ ὀχέοντας ὀιζὺν
ἀνθρώπων, τοῖσίν κεν ἐν ἄλγεσιν ἰσωσαίμην.
καὶ δʼ ἔτι κεν καὶ μᾶλλον ἐγὼ κακὰ μυθησαίμην,
ὅσσα γε δὴ ξύμπαντα θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησα.
ἀλλʼ ἐμὲ μὲν δορπῆσαι ἐάσατε κηδόμενόν περ·
οὐ γάρ τι στυγερῇ ἐπὶ γαστέρι κύντερον ἄλλο
ἔπλετο, ἥ τʼ ἐκέλευσεν ἕο μνήσασθαι ἀνάγκῃ
καὶ μάλα τειρόμενον καὶ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ πένθος ἔχοντα,
ὡς καὶ ἐγὼ πένθος μὲν ἔχω φρεσίν, ἡ δὲ μάλʼ αἰεὶ
ἐσθέμεναι κέλεται καὶ πινέμεν, ἐκ δέ με πάντων
ληθάνει ὅσσʼ ἔπαθον, καὶ ἐνιπλησθῆναι ἀνώγει.
ὑμεῖς δʼ ὀτρύνεσθαι ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν,
ὥς κʼ ἐμὲ τὸν δύστηνον ἐμῆς ἐπιβήσετε πάτρης
καί περ πολλὰ παθόντα· ἰδόντα με καὶ λίποι αἰὼν
κτῆσιν ἐμήν, δμῶάς τε καὶ ὑψερεφὲς μέγα δῶμα.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον
πεμπέμεναι τὸν ξεῖνον, ἐπεὶ κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιον θʼ ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,
οἱ μὲν κακκείοντες ἔβαν οἶκόνδε ἕκαστος,
αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐν μεγάρῳ ὑπελείπετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
πὰρ δέ οἱ Ἀρήτη τε καὶ Ἀλκίνοος θεοειδὴς
ἥσθην· ἀμφίπολοι δʼ ἀπεκόσμεον ἔντεα δαιτός.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀρήτη λευκώλενος ἤρχετο μύθων·
ἔγνω γὰρ φᾶρός τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἰδοῦσα
καλά, τά ῥʼ αὐτὴ τεῦξε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξί·
καί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ξεῖνε, τὸ μέν σε πρῶτον ἐγὼν εἰρήσομαι αὐτή·
τίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν; τίς τοι τάδε εἵματʼ ἔδωκεν;
οὐ δὴ φῆς ἐπὶ πόντον ἀλώμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι;
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ἀργαλέον, βασίλεια, διηνεκέως ἀγορεῦσαι
κήδεʼ, ἐπεί μοι πολλὰ δόσαν θεοὶ Οὐρανίωνες·
τοῦτο δέ τοι ἐρέω ὅ μʼ ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς.
Ὠγυγίη τις νῆσος ἀπόπροθεν εἰν ἁλὶ κεῖται·
ἔνθα μὲν Ἄτλαντος θυγάτηρ, δολόεσσα Καλυψὼ
ναίει ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεός· οὐδέ τις αὐτῇ
μίσγεται οὔτε θεῶν οὔτε θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων.
ἀλλʼ ἐμὲ τὸν δύστηνον ἐφέστιον ἤγαγε δαίμων
οἶον, ἐπεί μοι νῆα θοὴν ἀργῆτι κεραυνῷ
Ζεὺς ἔλσας ἐκέασσε μέσῳ ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀπέφθιθεν ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι,
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τρόπιν ἀγκὰς ἑλὼν νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης
ἐννῆμαρ φερόμην· δεκάτῃ δέ με νυκτὶ μελαίνῃ
νῆσον ἐς Ὠγυγίην πέλασαν θεοί, ἔνθα Καλυψὼ
ναίει ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεός, ἥ με λαβοῦσα
ἐνδυκέως ἐφίλει τε καὶ ἔτρεφεν ἠδὲ ἔφασκε
θήσειν ἀθάνατον καὶ ἀγήραον ἤματα πάντα·
ἀλλʼ ἐμὸν οὔ ποτε θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔπειθεν.
ἔνθα μὲν ἑπτάετες μένον ἔμπεδον, εἵματα δʼ αἰεὶ
δάκρυσι δεύεσκον, τά μοι ἄμβροτα δῶκε Καλυψώ·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ὀγδόατόν μοι ἐπιπλόμενον ἔτος ἦλθεν,
καὶ τότε δή μʼ ἐκέλευσεν ἐποτρύνουσα νέεσθαι
Ζηνὸς ὑπʼ ἀγγελίης, ἢ καὶ νόος ἐτράπετʼ αὐτῆς.
πέμπε δʼ ἐπὶ σχεδίης πολυδέσμου, πολλὰ δʼ ἔδωκε,
σῖτον καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ, καὶ ἄμβροτα εἵματα ἕσσεν,
οὖρον δὲ προέηκεν ἀπήμονά τε λιαρόν τε.
ἑπτὰ δὲ καὶ δέκα μὲν πλέον ἤματα ποντοπορεύων,
ὀκτωκαιδεκάτῃ δʼ ἐφάνη ὄρεα σκιόεντα
γαίης ὑμετέρης, γήθησε δέ μοι φίλον ἦτορ
δυσμόρῳ· ἦ γὰρ ἔμελλον ἔτι ξυνέσεσθαι ὀιζυῖ
πολλῇ, τήν μοι ἐπῶρσε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,
ὅς μοι ἐφορμήσας ἀνέμους κατέδησε κέλευθον,
ὤρινεν δὲ θάλασσαν ἀθέσφατον, οὐδέ τι κῦμα
εἴα ἐπὶ σχεδίης ἁδινὰ στενάχοντα φέρεσθαι.
τὴν μὲν ἔπειτα θύελλα διεσκέδασʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε
νηχόμενος τόδε λαῖτμα διέτμαγον, ὄφρα με γαίῃ
ὑμετέρῃ ἐπέλασσε φέρων ἄνεμός τε καὶ ὕδωρ.
ἔνθα κέ μʼ ἐκβαίνοντα βιήσατο κῦμʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου,
πέτρῃς πρὸς μεγάλῃσι βαλὸν καὶ ἀτερπέι χώρῳ·
ἀλλʼ ἀναχασσάμενος νῆχον πάλιν, ἧος ἐπῆλθον
ἐς ποταμόν, τῇ δή μοι ἐείσατο χῶρος ἄριστος,
λεῖος πετράων, καὶ ἐπὶ σκέπας ἦν ἀνέμοιο.
ἐκ δʼ ἔπεσον θυμηγερέων, ἐπὶ δʼ ἀμβροσίη νὺξ
ἤλυθʼ. ἐγὼ δʼ ἀπάνευθε διιπετέος ποταμοῖο
ἐκβὰς ἐν θάμνοισι κατέδραθον, ἀμφὶ δὲ φύλλα
ἠφυσάμην· ὕπνον δὲ θεὸς κατʼ ἀπείρονα χεῦεν.
ἔνθα μὲν ἐν φύλλοισι φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ
εὗδον παννύχιος καὶ ἐπʼ ἠῶ καὶ μέσον ἦμαρ.
δείλετό τʼ ἠέλιος καί με γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἀνῆκεν.
ἀμφιπόλους δʼ ἐπὶ θινὶ τεῆς ἐνόησα θυγατρὸς
παιζούσας, ἐν δʼ αὐτὴ ἔην ἐικυῖα θεῇσι·
τὴν ἱκέτευσʼ· ἡ δʼ οὔ τι νοήματος ἤμβροτεν ἐσθλοῦ,
ὡς οὐκ ἂν ἔλποιο νεώτερον ἀντιάσαντα
ἐρξέμεν· αἰεὶ γάρ τε νεώτεροι ἀφραδέουσιν.
ἥ μοι σῖτον ἔδωκεν ἅλις ἠδʼ αἴθοπα οἶνον
καὶ λοῦσʼ ἐν ποταμῷ καί μοι τάδε εἵματʼ ἔδωκε.
ταῦτά τοι ἀχνύμενός περ ἀληθείην κατέλεξα.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
ξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν τοῦτό γʼ ἐναίσιμον οὐκ ἐνόησε
παῖς ἐμή, οὕνεκά σʼ οὔ τι μετʼ ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν
ἦγεν ἐς ἡμέτερον, σὺ δʼ ἄρα πρώτην ἱκέτευσας.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ἥρως, μή τοι τοὔνεκʼ ἀμύμονα νείκεε κούρην·
ἡ μὲν γάρ μʼ ἐκέλευε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισιν ἕπεσθαι,
ἀλλʼ ἐγὼ οὐκ ἔθελον δείσας αἰσχυνόμενός τε,
μή πως καὶ σοὶ θυμὸς ἐπισκύσσαιτο ἰδόντι·
δύσζηλοι γάρ τʼ εἰμὲν ἐπὶ χθονὶ φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
ξεῖνʼ, οὔ μοι τοιοῦτον ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλον κῆρ
μαψιδίως κεχολῶσθαι· ἀμείνω δʼ αἴσιμα πάντα.
αἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,
τοῖος ἐὼν οἷός ἐσσι, τά τε φρονέων ἅ τʼ ἐγώ περ,
παῖδά τʼ ἐμὴν ἐχέμεν καὶ ἐμὸς γαμβρὸς καλέεσθαι
αὖθι μένων· οἶκον δέ κʼ ἐγὼ καὶ κτήματα δοίην,
εἴ κʼ ἐθέλων γε μένοις· ἀέκοντα δέ σʼ οὔ τις ἐρύξει
Φαιήκων· μὴ τοῦτο φίλον Διὶ πατρὶ γένοιτο.
πομπὴν δʼ ἐς τόδʼ ἐγὼ τεκμαίρομαι, ὄφρʼ ἐὺ εἰδῇς,
αὔριον ἔς· τῆμος δὲ σὺ μὲν δεδμημένος ὕπνῳ
λέξεαι, οἱ δʼ ἐλόωσι γαλήνην, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἵκηαι
πατρίδα σὴν καὶ δῶμα, καὶ εἴ πού τοι φίλον ἐστίν,
εἴ περ καὶ μάλα πολλὸν ἑκαστέρω ἔστʼ Εὐβοίης,
τήν περ τηλοτάτω φάσʼ ἔμμεναι, οἵ μιν ἴδοντο
λαῶν ἡμετέρων, ὅτε τε ξανθὸν Ῥαδάμανθυν
ἦγον ἐποψόμενον Τιτυὸν Γαιήιον υἱόν.
καὶ μὲν οἱ ἔνθʼ ἦλθον καὶ ἄτερ καμάτοιο τέλεσσαν
ἤματι τῷ αὐτῷ καὶ ἀπήνυσαν οἴκαδʼ ὀπίσσω.
εἰδήσεις δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ὅσσον ἄρισται
νῆες ἐμαὶ καὶ κοῦροι ἀναρρίπτειν ἅλα πηδῷ.
ὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
εὐχόμενος δʼ ἄρα εἶπεν, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
Ζεῦ πάτερ, αἴθʼ ὅσα εἶπε τελευτήσειεν ἅπαντα
Ἀλκίνοος· τοῦ μέν κεν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν
ἄσβεστον κλέος εἴη, ἐγὼ δέ κε πατρίδʼ ἱκοίμην.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·
κέκλετο δʼ Ἀρήτη λευκώλενος ἀμφιπόλοισιν
δέμνιʼ ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ θέμεναι καὶ ῥήγεα καλὰ
πορφύρεʼ ἐμβαλέειν, στορέσαι τʼ ἐφύπερθε τάπητας
χλαίνας τʼ ἐνθέμεναι οὔλας καθύπερθεν ἕσασθαι.
αἱ δʼ ἴσαν ἐκ μεγάροιο δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσαι·
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ στόρεσαν πυκινὸν λέχος ἐγκονέουσαι,
ὤτρυνον δʼ Ὀδυσῆα παριστάμεναι ἐπέεσσιν·
ὄρσο κέων, ὦ ξεῖνε· πεποίηται δέ τοι εὐνή.
ὣς φάν, τῷ δʼ ἀσπαστὸν ἐείσατο κοιμηθῆναι.
ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθα καθεῦδε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
τρητοῖς ἐν λεχέεσσιν ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ ἐριδούπῳ·
Ἀλκίνοος δʼ ἄρα λέκτο μυχῷ δόμου ὑψηλοῖο,
πὰρ δὲ γυνὴ δέσποινα λέχος πόρσυνε καὶ εὐνήν.

### Book 8

ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
ὤρνυτʼ ἄρʼ ἐξ εὐνῆς ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,
ἂν δʼ ἄρα διογενὴς ὦρτο πτολίπορθος Ὀδυσσεύς.
τοῖσιν δʼ ἡγεμόνευʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο
Φαιήκων ἀγορήνδʼ, ἥ σφιν παρὰ νηυσὶ τέτυκτο.
ἐλθόντες δὲ καθῖζον ἐπὶ ξεστοῖσι λίθοισι
πλησίον. ἡ δʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ μετῴχετο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
εἰδομένη κήρυκι δαΐφρονος Ἀλκινόοιο,
νόστον Ὀδυσσῆι μεγαλήτορι μητιόωσα,
καί ῥα ἑκάστῳ φωτὶ παρισταμένη φάτο μῦθον·
δεῦτʼ ἄγε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,
εἰς ἀγορὴν ἰέναι, ὄφρα ξείνοιο πύθησθε,
ὃς νέον Ἀλκινόοιο δαΐφρονος ἵκετο δῶμα
πόντον ἐπιπλαγχθείς, δέμας ἀθανάτοισιν ὁμοῖος.
ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ὤτρυνε μένος καὶ θυμὸν ἑκάστου.
καρπαλίμως δʼ ἔμπληντο βροτῶν ἀγοραί τε καὶ ἕδραι
ἀγρομένων· πολλοὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐθηήσαντο ἰδόντες
υἱὸν Λαέρταο δαΐφρονα· τῷ δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀθήνη
θεσπεσίην κατέχευε χάριν κεφαλῇ τε καὶ ὤμοις
καί μιν μακρότερον καὶ πάσσονα θῆκεν ἰδέσθαι,
ὥς κεν Φαιήκεσσι φίλος πάντεσσι γένοιτο
δεινός τʼ αἰδοῖός τε καὶ ἐκτελέσειεν ἀέθλους
πολλούς, τοὺς Φαίηκες ἐπειρήσαντʼ Ὀδυσῆος.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἤγερθεν ὁμηγερέες τʼ ἐγένοντο,
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·
κέκλυτε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,
ὄφρʼ εἴπω τά με θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κελεύει.
ξεῖνος ὅδʼ, οὐκ οἶδʼ ὅς τις, ἀλώμενος ἵκετʼ ἐμὸν δῶ,
ἠὲ πρὸς ἠοίων ἦ ἑσπερίων ἀνθρώπων·
πομπὴν δʼ ὀτρύνει, καὶ λίσσεται ἔμπεδον εἶναι.
ἡμεῖς δʼ, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ, ἐποτρυνώμεθα πομπήν.
οὐδὲ γὰρ οὐδέ τις ἄλλος, ὅτις κʼ ἐμὰ δώμαθʼ ἵκηται,
ἐνθάδʼ ὀδυρόμενος δηρὸν μένει εἵνεκα πομπῆς.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῆα μέλαιναν ἐρύσσομεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν
πρωτόπλοον, κούρω δὲ δύω καὶ πεντήκοντα
κρινάσθων κατὰ δῆμον, ὅσοι πάρος εἰσὶν ἄριστοι.
δησάμενοι δʼ ἐὺ πάντες ἐπὶ κληῖσιν ἐρετμὰ
ἔκβητʼ· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα θοὴν ἀλεγύνετε δαῖτα
ἡμέτερόνδʼ ἐλθόντες· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐὺ πᾶσι παρέξω.
κούροισιν μὲν ταῦτʼ ἐπιτέλλομαι· αὐτὰρ οἱ ἄλλοι
σκηπτοῦχοι βασιλῆες ἐμὰ πρὸς δώματα καλὰ
ἔρχεσθʼ, ὄφρα ξεῖνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι φιλέωμεν,
μηδέ τις ἀρνείσθω. καλέσασθε δὲ θεῖον ἀοιδὸν
Δημόδοκον· τῷ γάρ ῥα θεὸς πέρι δῶκεν ἀοιδὴν
τέρπειν, ὅππῃ θυμὸς ἐποτρύνῃσιν ἀείδειν.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἡγήσατο, τοὶ δʼ ἅμʼ ἕποντο
σκηπτοῦχοι· κῆρυξ δὲ μετῴχετο θεῖον ἀοιδόν.
κούρω δὲ κρινθέντε δύω καὶ πεντήκοντα
βήτην, ὡς ἐκέλευσʼ, ἐπὶ θῖνʼ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
νῆα μὲν οἵ γε μέλαιναν ἁλὸς βένθοσδε ἔρυσσαν,
ἐν δʼ ἱστόν τʼ ἐτίθεντο καὶ ἱστία νηὶ μελαίνῃ,
ἠρτύναντο δʼ ἐρετμὰ τροποῖς ἐν δερματίνοισι,
πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λευκὰ πέτασσαν.
ὑψοῦ δʼ ἐν νοτίῳ τήν γʼ ὥρμισαν· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
βάν ῥʼ ἴμεν Ἀλκινόοιο δαΐφρονος ἐς μέγα δῶμα.
πλῆντο δʼ ἄρʼ αἴθουσαί τε καὶ ἕρκεα καὶ δόμοι ἀνδρῶν
ἀγρομένων· πολλοὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔσαν, νέοι ἠδὲ παλαιοί.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος δυοκαίδεκα μῆλʼ ἱέρευσεν,
ὀκτὼ δʼ ἀργιόδοντας ὕας, δύο δʼ εἰλίποδας βοῦς·
τοὺς δέρον ἀμφί θʼ ἕπον, τετύκοντό τε δαῖτʼ ἐρατεινήν.
κῆρυξ δʼ ἐγγύθεν ἦλθεν ἄγων ἐρίηρον ἀοιδόν,
τὸν πέρι μοῦσʼ ἐφίλησε, δίδου δʼ ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε·
ὀφθαλμῶν μὲν ἄμερσε, δίδου δʼ ἡδεῖαν ἀοιδήν.
τῷ δʼ ἄρα Ποντόνοος θῆκε θρόνον ἀργυρόηλον
μέσσῳ δαιτυμόνων, πρὸς κίονα μακρὸν ἐρείσας·
κὰδ δʼ ἐκ πασσαλόφι κρέμασεν φόρμιγγα λίγειαν
αὐτοῦ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς καὶ ἐπέφραδε χερσὶν ἑλέσθαι
κῆρυξ· πὰρ δʼ ἐτίθει κάνεον καλήν τε τράπεζαν,
πὰρ δὲ δέπας οἴνοιο, πιεῖν ὅτε θυμὸς ἀνώγοι.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
μοῦσʼ ἄρʼ ἀοιδὸν ἀνῆκεν ἀειδέμεναι κλέα ἀνδρῶν,
οἴμης τῆς τότʼ ἄρα κλέος οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἵκανε,
νεῖκος Ὀδυσσῆος καὶ Πηλεΐδεω Ἀχιλῆος,
ὥς ποτε δηρίσαντο θεῶν ἐν δαιτὶ θαλείῃ
ἐκπάγλοις ἐπέεσσιν, ἄναξ δʼ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων
χαῖρε νόῳ, ὅ τʼ ἄριστοι Ἀχαιῶν δηριόωντο.
ὣς γάρ οἱ χρείων μυθήσατο Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων
Πυθοῖ ἐν ἠγαθέῃ, ὅθʼ ὑπέρβη λάινον οὐδὸν
χρησόμενος· τότε γάρ ῥα κυλίνδετο πήματος ἀρχὴ
Τρωσί τε καὶ Δαναοῖσι Διὸς μεγάλου διὰ βουλάς.
ταῦτʼ ἄρʼ ἀοιδὸς ἄειδε περικλυτός· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
πορφύρεον μέγα φᾶρος ἑλὼν χερσὶ στιβαρῇσι
κὰκ κεφαλῆς εἴρυσσε, κάλυψε δὲ καλὰ πρόσωπα·
αἴδετο γὰρ Φαίηκας ὑπʼ ὀφρύσι δάκρυα λείβων.
ἦ τοι ὅτε λήξειεν ἀείδων θεῖος ἀοιδός,
δάκρυ ὀμορξάμενος κεφαλῆς ἄπο φᾶρος ἕλεσκε
καὶ δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον ἑλὼν σπείσασκε θεοῖσιν·
αὐτὰρ ὅτʼ ἂψ ἄρχοιτο καὶ ὀτρύνειαν ἀείδειν
Φαιήκων οἱ ἄριστοι, ἐπεὶ τέρποντʼ ἐπέεσσιν,
ἂψ Ὀδυσεὺς κατὰ κρᾶτα καλυψάμενος γοάασκεν.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλους μὲν πάντας ἐλάνθανε δάκρυα λείβων,
Ἀλκίνοος δέ μιν οἶος ἐπεφράσατʼ ἠδʼ ἐνόησεν
ἥμενος ἄγχʼ αὐτοῦ, βαρὺ δὲ στενάχοντος ἄκουσεν.
αἶψα δὲ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μετηύδα·
κέκλυτε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες.
ἤδη μὲν δαιτὸς κεκορήμεθα θυμὸν ἐίσης
φόρμιγγός θʼ, ἣ δαιτὶ συνήορός ἐστι θαλείῃ·
νῦν δʼ ἐξέλθωμεν καὶ ἀέθλων πειρηθῶμεν
πάντων, ὥς χʼ ὁ ξεῖνος ἐνίσπῃ οἷσι φίλοισιν
οἴκαδε νοστήσας, ὅσσον περιγιγνόμεθʼ ἄλλων
πύξ τε παλαιμοσύνῃ τε καὶ ἅλμασιν ἠδὲ πόδεσσιν.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἡγήσατο, τοὶ δʼ ἅμʼ ἕποντο.
κὰδ δʼ ἐκ πασσαλόφι κρέμασεν φόρμιγγα λίγειαν,
Δημοδόκου δʼ ἕλε χεῖρα καὶ ἔξαγεν ἐκ μεγάροιο
κῆρυξ· ἦρχε δὲ τῷ αὐτὴν ὁδὸν ἥν περ οἱ ἄλλοι
Φαιήκων οἱ ἄριστοι, ἀέθλια θαυμανέοντες.
βὰν δʼ ἴμεν εἰς ἀγορήν, ἅμα δʼ ἕσπετο πουλὺς ὅμιλος,
μυρίοι· ἂν δʼ ἵσταντο νέοι πολλοί τε καὶ ἐσθλοί.
ὦρτο μὲν Ἀκρόνεώς τε καὶ Ὠκύαλος καὶ Ἐλατρεύς,
Ναυτεύς τε Πρυμνεύς τε καὶ Ἀγχίαλος καὶ Ἐρετμεύς,
Ποντεύς τε Πρωρεύς τε, Θόων Ἀναβησίνεώς τε
Ἀμφίαλός θʼ, υἱὸς Πολυνήου Τεκτονίδαο·
ἂν δὲ καὶ Εὐρύαλος, βροτολοιγῷ ἶσος Ἄρηϊ,
Ναυβολίδης, ὃς ἄριστος ἔην εἶδός τε δέμας τε
πάντων Φαιήκων μετʼ ἀμύμονα Λαοδάμαντα.
ἂν δʼ ἔσταν τρεῖς παῖδες ἀμύμονος Ἀλκινόοιο,
Λαοδάμας θʼ Ἅλιός τε καὶ ἀντίθεος Κλυτόνηος.
οἱ δʼ ἦ τοι πρῶτον μὲν ἐπειρήσαντο πόδεσσι.
τοῖσι δʼ ἀπὸ νύσσης τέτατο δρόμος· οἱ δʼ ἅμα πάντες
καρπαλίμως ἐπέτοντο κονίοντες πεδίοιο·
τῶν δὲ θέειν ὄχʼ ἄριστος ἔην Κλυτόνηος ἀμύμων·
ὅσσον τʼ ἐν νειῷ οὖρον πέλει ἡμιόνοιιν,
τόσσον ὑπεκπροθέων λαοὺς ἵκεθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἐλίποντο.
οἱ δὲ παλαιμοσύνης ἀλεγεινῆς πειρήσαντο·
τῇ δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύαλος ἀπεκαίνυτο πάντας ἀρίστους.
ἅλματι δʼ Ἀμφίαλος πάντων προφερέστατος ἦεν·
δίσκῳ δʼ αὖ πάντων πολὺ φέρτατος ἦεν Ἐλατρεύς,
πὺξ δʼ αὖ Λαοδάμας, ἀγαθὸς πάϊς Ἀλκινόοιο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντες ἐτέρφθησαν φρένʼ ἀέθλοις,
τοῖς ἄρα Λαοδάμας μετέφη πάϊς Ἀλκινόοιο·
δεῦτε, φίλοι, τὸν ξεῖνον ἐρώμεθα εἴ τινʼ ἄεθλον
οἶδέ τε καὶ δεδάηκε. φυήν γε μὲν οὐ κακός ἐστι,
μηρούς τε κνήμας τε καὶ ἄμφω χεῖρας ὕπερθεν
αὐχένα τε στιβαρὸν μέγα τε σθένος· οὐδέ τι ἥβης
δεύεται, ἀλλὰ κακοῖσι συνέρρηκται πολέεσσιν·
οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γέ τί φημι κακώτερον ἄλλο θαλάσσης
ἄνδρα γε συγχεῦαι, εἰ καὶ μάλα καρτερὸς εἴη.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύαλος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
Λαοδάμα, μάλα τοῦτο ἔπος κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.
αὐτὸς νῦν προκάλεσσαι ἰὼν καὶ πέφραδε μῦθον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσʼ ἀγαθὸς πάϊς Ἀλκινόοιο,
στῆ ῥʼ ἐς μέσσον ἰὼν καὶ Ὀδυσσῆα προσέειπε·
δεῦρʼ ἄγε καὶ σύ, ξεῖνε πάτερ, πείρησαι ἀέθλων,
εἴ τινά που δεδάηκας· ἔοικε δέ σʼ ἴδμεν ἀέθλους·
οὐ μὲν γὰρ μεῖζον κλέος ἀνέρος ὄφρα κʼ ἔῃσιν,
ἤ ὅ τι ποσσίν τε ῥέξῃ καὶ χερσὶν ἑῇσιν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε πείρησαι, σκέδασον δʼ ἀπὸ κήδεα θυμοῦ.
σοὶ δʼ ὁδὸς οὐκέτι δηρὸν ἀπέσσεται, ἀλλά τοι ἤδη
νηῦς τε κατείρυσται καὶ ἐπαρτέες εἰσὶν ἑταῖροι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Λαοδάμα, τί με ταῦτα κελεύετε κερτομέοντες;
κήδεά μοι καὶ μᾶλλον ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἤ περ ἄεθλοι,
ὃς πρὶν μὲν μάλα πολλὰ πάθον καὶ πολλὰ μόγησα,
νῦν δὲ μεθʼ ὑμετέρῃ ἀγορῇ νόστοιο χατίζων
ἧμαι, λισσόμενος βασιλῆά τε πάντα τε δῆμον.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύαλος ἀπαμείβετο νείκεσέ τʼ ἄντην·
οὐ γάρ σʼ οὐδέ, ξεῖνε, δαήμονι φωτὶ ἐίσκω
ἄθλων, οἷά τε πολλὰ μετʼ ἀνθρώποισι πέλονται,
ἀλλὰ τῷ, ὅς θʼ ἅμα νηὶ πολυκλήιδι θαμίζων,
ἀρχὸς ναυτάων οἵ τε πρηκτῆρες ἔασιν,
φόρτου τε μνήμων καὶ ἐπίσκοπος ᾖσιν ὁδαίων
κερδέων θʼ ἁρπαλέων· οὐδʼ ἀθλητῆρι ἔοικας.
τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ξεῖνʼ, οὐ καλὸν ἔειπες· ἀτασθάλῳ ἀνδρὶ ἔοικας.
οὕτως οὐ πάντεσσι θεοὶ χαρίεντα διδοῦσιν
ἀνδράσιν, οὔτε φυὴν οὔτʼ ἂρ φρένας οὔτʼ ἀγορητύν.
ἄλλος μὲν γάρ τʼ εἶδος ἀκιδνότερος πέλει ἀνήρ,
ἀλλὰ θεὸς μορφὴν ἔπεσι στέφει, οἱ δέ τʼ ἐς αὐτὸν
τερπόμενοι λεύσσουσιν· ὁ δʼ ἀσφαλέως ἀγορεύει
αἰδοῖ μειλιχίῃ, μετὰ δὲ πρέπει ἀγρομένοισιν,
ἐρχόμενον δʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ θεὸν ὣς εἰσορόωσιν.
ἄλλος δʼ αὖ εἶδος μὲν ἀλίγκιος ἀθανάτοισιν,
ἀλλʼ οὔ οἱ χάρις ἀμφιπεριστέφεται ἐπέεσσιν,
ὡς καὶ σοὶ εἶδος μὲν ἀριπρεπές, οὐδέ κεν ἄλλως
οὐδὲ θεὸς τεύξειε, νόον δʼ ἀποφώλιός ἐσσι.
ὤρινάς μοι θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισιν
εἰπὼν οὐ κατὰ κόσμον. ἐγὼ δʼ οὐ νῆις ἀέθλων,
ὡς σύ γε μυθεῖαι, ἀλλʼ ἐν πρώτοισιν ὀίω
ἔμμεναι, ὄφρʼ ἥβῃ τε πεποίθεα χερσί τʼ ἐμῇσι.
νῦν δʼ ἔχομαι κακότητι καὶ ἄλγεσι· πολλὰ γὰρ ἔτλην
ἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὥς, κακὰ πολλὰ παθών, πειρήσομʼ ἀέθλων·
θυμοδακὴς γὰρ μῦθος, ἐπώτρυνας δέ με εἰπών.
ἦ ῥα καὶ αὐτῷ φάρει ἀναΐξας λάβε δίσκον
μείζονα καὶ πάχετον, στιβαρώτερον οὐκ ὀλίγον περ
ἢ οἵῳ Φαίηκες ἐδίσκεον ἀλλήλοισι.
τόν ῥα περιστρέψας ἧκε στιβαρῆς ἀπὸ χειρός,
βόμβησεν δὲ λίθος· κατὰ δʼ ἔπτηξαν ποτὶ γαίῃ
Φαίηκες δολιχήρετμοι, ναυσίκλυτοι ἄνδρες,
λᾶος ὑπὸ ῥιπῆς· ὁ δʼ ὑπέρπτατο σήματα πάντων
ῥίμφα θέων ἀπὸ χειρός. ἔθηκε δὲ τέρματʼ Ἀθήνη
ἀνδρὶ δέμας ἐικυῖα, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
καί κʼ ἀλαός τοι, ξεῖνε, διακρίνειε τὸ σῆμα
ἀμφαφόων, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι μεμιγμένον ἐστὶν ὁμίλῳ,
ἀλλὰ πολὺ πρῶτον. σὺ δὲ θάρσει τόνδε γʼ ἄεθλον·
οὔ τις Φαιήκων τόδε γʼ ἵξεται, οὐδʼ ὑπερήσει.
ὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
χαίρων, οὕνεχʼ ἑταῖρον ἐνηέα λεῦσσʼ ἐν ἀγῶνι.
καὶ τότε κουφότερον μετεφώνεε Φαιήκεσσιν·
τοῦτον νῦν ἀφίκεσθε, νέοι. τάχα δʼ ὕστερον ἄλλον
ἥσειν ἢ τοσσοῦτον ὀίομαι ἢ ἔτι μᾶσσον.
τῶν δʼ ἄλλων ὅτινα κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει,
δεῦρʼ ἄγε πειρηθήτω, ἐπεί μʼ ἐχολώσατε λίην,
ἢ πὺξ ἠὲ πάλῃ ἢ καὶ ποσίν, οὔ τι μεγαίρω,
πάντων Φαιήκων, πλήν γʼ αὐτοῦ Λαοδάμαντος.
ξεῖνος γάρ μοι ὅδʼ ἐστί· τίς ἂν φιλέοντι μάχοιτο;
ἄφρων δὴ κεῖνός γε καὶ οὐτιδανὸς πέλει ἀνήρ,
ὅς τις ξεινοδόκῳ ἔριδα προφέρηται ἀέθλων
δήμῳ ἐν ἀλλοδαπῷ· ἕο δʼ αὐτοῦ πάντα κολούει.
τῶν δʼ ἄλλων οὔ πέρ τινʼ ἀναίνομαι οὐδʼ ἀθερίζω,
ἀλλʼ ἐθέλω ἴδμεν καὶ πειρηθήμεναι ἄντην.
πάντα γὰρ οὐ κακός εἰμι, μετʼ ἀνδράσιν ὅσσοι ἄεθλοι·
εὖ μὲν τόξον οἶδα ἐύξοον ἀμφαφάασθαι·
πρῶτός κʼ ἄνδρα βάλοιμι ὀιστεύσας ἐν ὁμίλῳ
ἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων, εἰ καὶ μάλα πολλοὶ ἑταῖροι
ἄγχι παρασταῖεν καὶ τοξαζοίατο φωτῶν.
οἶος δή με Φιλοκτήτης ἀπεκαίνυτο τόξῳ
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅτε τοξαζοίμεθʼ Ἀχαιοί.
τῶν δʼ ἄλλων ἐμέ φημι πολὺ προφερέστερον εἶναι,
ὅσσοι νῦν βροτοί εἰσιν ἐπὶ χθονὶ σῖτον ἔδοντες.
ἀνδράσι δὲ προτέροισιν ἐριζέμεν οὐκ ἐθελήσω,
οὔθʼ Ἡρακλῆι οὔτʼ Εὐρύτῳ Οἰχαλιῆι,
οἵ ῥα καὶ ἀθανάτοισιν ἐρίζεσκον περὶ τόξων.
τῷ ῥα καὶ αἶψʼ ἔθανεν μέγας Εὔρυτος, οὐδʼ ἐπὶ γῆρας
ἵκετʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι· χολωσάμενος γὰρ Ἀπόλλων
ἔκτανεν, οὕνεκά μιν προκαλίζετο τοξάζεσθαι.
δουρὶ δʼ ἀκοντίζω ὅσον οὐκ ἄλλος τις ὀιστῷ.
οἴοισιν δείδοικα ποσὶν μή τίς με παρέλθῃ
Φαιήκων· λίην γὰρ ἀεικελίως ἐδαμάσθην
κύμασιν ἐν πολλοῖς, ἐπεὶ οὐ κομιδὴ κατὰ νῆα
ἦεν ἐπηετανός· τῷ μοι φίλα γυῖα λέλυνται.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ.
Ἀλκίνοος δέ μιν οἶος ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
ξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἀχάριστα μεθʼ ἡμῖν ταῦτʼ ἀγορεύεις,
ἀλλʼ ἐθέλεις ἀρετὴν σὴν φαινέμεν, ἥ τοι ὀπηδεῖ,
χωόμενος ὅτι σʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ ἐν ἀγῶνι παραστὰς
νείκεσεν, ὡς ἂν σὴν ἀρετὴν βροτὸς οὔ τις ὄνοιτο,
ὅς τις ἐπίσταιτο ᾗσι φρεσὶν ἄρτια βάζειν·
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἐμέθεν ξυνίει ἔπος, ὄφρα καὶ ἄλλῳ
εἴπῃς ἡρώων, ὅτε κεν σοῖς ἐν μεγάροισι
δαινύῃ παρὰ σῇ τʼ ἀλόχῳ καὶ σοῖσι τέκεσσιν,
ἡμετέρης ἀρετῆς μεμνημένος, οἷα καὶ ἡμῖν
Ζεὺς ἐπὶ ἔργα τίθησι διαμπερὲς ἐξ ἔτι πατρῶν.
οὐ γὰρ πυγμάχοι εἰμὲν ἀμύμονες οὐδὲ παλαισταί,
ἀλλὰ ποσὶ κραιπνῶς θέομεν καὶ νηυσὶν ἄριστοι,
αἰεὶ δʼ ἡμῖν δαίς τε φίλη κίθαρίς τε χοροί τε
εἵματά τʼ ἐξημοιβὰ λοετρά τε θερμὰ καὶ εὐναί.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε, Φαιήκων βητάρμονες ὅσσοι ἄριστοι,
παίσατε, ὥς χʼ ὁ ξεῖνος ἐνίσπῃ οἷσι φίλοισιν
οἴκαδε νοστήσας, ὅσσον περιγιγνόμεθʼ ἄλλων
ναυτιλίῃ καὶ ποσσὶ καὶ ὀρχηστυῖ καὶ ἀοιδῇ.
Δημοδόκῳ δέ τις αἶψα κιὼν φόρμιγγα λίγειαν
οἰσέτω, ἥ που κεῖται ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισιν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀλκίνοος θεοείκελος, ὦρτο δὲ κῆρυξ
οἴσων φόρμιγγα γλαφυρὴν δόμου ἐκ βασιλῆος.
αἰσυμνῆται δὲ κριτοὶ ἐννέα πάντες ἀνέσταν
δήμιοι, οἳ κατʼ ἀγῶνας ἐὺ πρήσσεσκον ἕκαστα,
λείηναν δὲ χορόν, καλὸν δʼ εὔρυναν ἀγῶνα.
κῆρυξ δʼ ἐγγύθεν ἦλθε φέρων φόρμιγγα λίγειαν
Δημοδόκῳ· ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα κίʼ ἐς μέσον· ἀμφὶ δὲ κοῦροι
πρωθῆβαι ἵσταντο, δαήμονες ὀρχηθμοῖο,
πέπληγον δὲ χορὸν θεῖον ποσίν. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
μαρμαρυγὰς θηεῖτο ποδῶν, θαύμαζε δὲ θυμῷ.
αὐτὰρ ὁ φορμίζων ἀνεβάλλετο καλὸν ἀείδειν
ἀμφʼ Ἄρεος φιλότητος εὐστεφάνου τʼ Ἀφροδίτης,
ὡς τὰ πρῶτα μίγησαν ἐν Ἡφαίστοιο δόμοισι
λάθρῃ, πολλὰ δʼ ἔδωκε, λέχος δʼ ᾔσχυνε καὶ εὐνὴν
Ἡφαίστοιο ἄνακτος. ἄφαρ δέ οἱ ἄγγελος ἦλθεν
Ἥλιος, ὅ σφʼ ἐνόησε μιγαζομένους φιλότητι.
Ἥφαιστος δʼ ὡς οὖν θυμαλγέα μῦθον ἄκουσε,
βῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐς χαλκεῶνα κακὰ φρεσὶ βυσσοδομεύων,
ἐν δʼ ἔθετʼ ἀκμοθέτῳ μέγαν ἄκμονα, κόπτε δὲ δεσμοὺς
ἀρρήκτους ἀλύτους, ὄφρʼ ἔμπεδον αὖθι μένοιεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τεῦξε δόλον κεχολωμένος Ἄρει,
βῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐς θάλαμον, ὅθι οἱ φίλα δέμνιʼ ἔκειτο,
ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἑρμῖσιν χέε δέσματα κύκλῳ ἁπάντῃ·
πολλὰ δὲ καὶ καθύπερθε μελαθρόφιν ἐξεκέχυντο,
ἠύτʼ ἀράχνια λεπτά, τά γʼ οὔ κέ τις οὐδὲ ἴδοιτο,
οὐδὲ θεῶν μακάρων· πέρι γὰρ δολόεντα τέτυκτο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα δόλον περὶ δέμνια χεῦεν,
εἴσατʼ ἴμεν ἐς Λῆμνον, ἐυκτίμενον πτολίεθρον,
ἥ οἱ γαιάων πολὺ φιλτάτη ἐστὶν ἁπασέων.
οὐδʼ ἀλαοσκοπιὴν εἶχε χρυσήνιος Ἄρης,
ὡς ἴδεν Ἥφαιστον κλυτοτέχνην νόσφι κιόντα·
βῆ δʼ ἰέναι πρὸς δῶμα περικλυτοῦ Ἡφαίστοιο
ἰσχανόων φιλότητος ἐυστεφάνου Κυθερείης.
ἡ δὲ νέον παρὰ πατρὸς ἐρισθενέος Κρονίωνος
ἐρχομένη κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζεθʼ· ὁ δʼ εἴσω δώματος ᾔει,
ἔν τʼ ἄρα οἱ φῦ χειρί, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
δεῦρο, φίλη, λέκτρονδε τραπείομεν εὐνηθέντες·
οὐ γὰρ ἔθʼ Ἥφαιστος μεταδήμιος, ἀλλά που ἤδη
οἴχεται ἐς Λῆμνον μετὰ Σίντιας ἀγριοφώνους.
ὣς φάτο, τῇ δʼ ἀσπαστὸν ἐείσατο κοιμηθῆναι.
τὼ δʼ ἐς δέμνια βάντε κατέδραθον· ἀμφὶ δὲ δεσμοὶ
τεχνήεντες ἔχυντο πολύφρονος Ἡφαίστοιο,
οὐδέ τι κινῆσαι μελέων ἦν οὐδʼ ἀναεῖραι.
καὶ τότε δὴ γίγνωσκον, ὅ τʼ οὐκέτι φυκτὰ πέλοντο.
ἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε περικλυτὸς ἀμφιγυήεις,
αὖτις ὑποστρέψας πρὶν Λήμνου γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·
Ἠέλιος γάρ οἱ σκοπιὴν ἔχεν εἶπέ τε μῦθον.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεναι πρὸς δῶμα φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ·
ἔστη δʼ ἐν προθύροισι, χόλος δέ μιν ἄγριος ᾕρει·
σμερδαλέον δʼ ἐβόησε, γέγωνέ τε πᾶσι θεοῖσιν·
Ζεῦ πάτερ ἠδʼ ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,
δεῦθʼ, ἵνα ἔργα γελαστὰ καὶ οὐκ ἐπιεικτὰ ἴδησθε,
ὡς ἐμὲ χωλὸν ἐόντα Διὸς θυγάτηρ Ἀφροδίτη
αἰὲν ἀτιμάζει, φιλέει δʼ ἀίδηλον Ἄρηα,
οὕνεχʼ ὁ μὲν καλός τε καὶ ἀρτίπος, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε
ἠπεδανὸς γενόμην. ἀτὰρ οὔ τί μοι αἴτιος ἄλλος,
ἀλλὰ τοκῆε δύω, τὼ μὴ γείνασθαι ὄφελλον.
ἀλλʼ ὄψεσθʼ, ἵνα τώ γε καθεύδετον ἐν φιλότητι
εἰς ἐμὰ δέμνια βάντες, ἐγὼ δʼ ὁρόων ἀκάχημαι.
οὐ μέν σφεας ἔτʼ ἔολπα μίνυνθά γε κειέμεν οὕτως
καὶ μάλα περ φιλέοντε· τάχʼ οὐκ ἐθελήσετον ἄμφω
εὕδειν· ἀλλά σφωε δόλος καὶ δεσμὸς ἐρύξει,
εἰς ὅ κέ μοι μάλα πάντα πατὴρ ἀποδῷσιν ἔεδνα,
ὅσσα οἱ ἐγγυάλιξα κυνώπιδος εἵνεκα κούρης,
οὕνεκά οἱ καλὴ θυγάτηρ, ἀτὰρ οὐκ ἐχέθυμος.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἀγέροντο θεοὶ ποτὶ χαλκοβατὲς δῶ·
ἦλθε Ποσειδάων γαιήοχος, ἦλθʼ ἐριούνης
Ἑρμείας, ἦλθεν δὲ ἄναξ ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων.
θηλύτεραι δὲ θεαὶ μένον αἰδοῖ οἴκοι ἑκάστη.
ἔσταν δʼ ἐν προθύροισι θεοί, δωτῆρες ἑάων·
ἄσβεστος δʼ ἄρʼ ἐνῶρτο γέλως μακάρεσσι θεοῖσι
τέχνας εἰσορόωσι πολύφρονος Ἡφαίστοιο.
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·
οὐκ ἀρετᾷ κακὰ ἔργα· κιχάνει τοι βραδὺς ὠκύν,
ὡς καὶ νῦν Ἥφαιστος ἐὼν βραδὺς εἷλεν Ἄρηα
ὠκύτατόν περ ἐόντα θεῶν οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν,
χωλὸς ἐὼν τέχνῃσι· τὸ καὶ μοιχάγριʼ ὀφέλλει.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·
Ἑρμῆν δὲ προσέειπεν ἄναξ Διὸς υἱὸς Ἀπόλλων·
Ἑρμεία, Διὸς υἱέ, διάκτορε, δῶτορ ἑάων,
ἦ ῥά κεν ἐν δεσμοῖς ἐθέλοις κρατεροῖσι πιεσθεὶς
εὕδειν ἐν λέκτροισι παρὰ χρυσέῃ Ἀφροδίτῃ;
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης·
αἲ γὰρ τοῦτο γένοιτο, ἄναξ ἑκατηβόλʼ Ἄπολλον·
δεσμοὶ μὲν τρὶς τόσσοι ἀπείρονες ἀμφὶς ἔχοιεν,
ὑμεῖς δʼ εἰσορόῳτε θεοὶ πᾶσαί τε θέαιναι,
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν εὕδοιμι παρὰ χρυσέῃ Ἀφροδίτῃ.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, ἐν δὲ γέλως ὦρτʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν.
οὐδὲ Ποσειδάωνα γέλως ἔχε, λίσσετο δʼ αἰεὶ
Ἥφαιστον κλυτοεργὸν ὅπως λύσειεν Ἄρηα.
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
λῦσον· ἐγὼ δέ τοι αὐτὸν ὑπίσχομαι, ὡς σὺ κελεύεις,
τίσειν αἴσιμα πάντα μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περικλυτὸς ἀμφιγυήεις·
μή με, Ποσείδαον γαιήοχε, ταῦτα κέλευε·
δειλαί τοι δειλῶν γε καὶ ἐγγύαι ἐγγυάασθαι.
πῶς ἂν ἐγώ σε δέοιμι μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν,
εἴ κεν Ἄρης οἴχοιτο χρέος καὶ δεσμὸν ἀλύξας;
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων·
Ἥφαιστʼ, εἴ περ γάρ κεν Ἄρης χρεῖος ὑπαλύξας
οἴχηται φεύγων, αὐτός τοι ἐγὼ τάδε τίσω.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περικλυτὸς ἀμφιγυήεις·
οὐκ ἔστʼ οὐδὲ ἔοικε τεὸν ἔπος ἀρνήσασθαι.
ὣς εἰπὼν δεσμὸν ἀνίει μένος Ἡφαίστοιο.
τὼ δʼ ἐπεὶ ἐκ δεσμοῖο λύθεν, κρατεροῦ περ ἐόντος,
αὐτίκʼ ἀναΐξαντε ὁ μὲν Θρῄκηνδε βεβήκει,
ἡ δʼ ἄρα Κύπρον ἵκανε φιλομμειδὴς Ἀφροδίτη,
ἐς Πάφον· ἔνθα δέ οἱ τέμενος βωμός τε θυήεις.
ἔνθα δέ μιν Χάριτες λοῦσαν καὶ χρῖσαν ἐλαίῳ
ἀμβρότῳ, οἷα θεοὺς ἐπενήνοθεν αἰὲν ἐόντας,
ἀμφὶ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσαν ἐπήρατα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι.
ταῦτʼ ἄρʼ ἀοιδὸς ἄειδε περικλυτός· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
τέρπετʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἀκούων ἠδὲ καὶ ἄλλοι
Φαίηκες δολιχήρετμοι, ναυσίκλυτοι ἄνδρες.
Ἀλκίνοος δʼ Ἅλιον καὶ Λαοδάμαντα κέλευσεν
μουνὰξ ὀρχήσασθαι, ἐπεί σφισιν οὔ τις ἔριζεν.
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν σφαῖραν καλὴν μετὰ χερσὶν ἕλοντο,
πορφυρέην, τήν σφιν Πόλυβος ποίησε δαΐφρων,
τὴν ἕτερος ῥίπτασκε ποτὶ νέφεα σκιόεντα
ἰδνωθεὶς ὀπίσω, ὁ δʼ ἀπὸ χθονὸς ὑψόσʼ ἀερθεὶς
ῥηιδίως μεθέλεσκε, πάρος ποσὶν οὖδας ἱκέσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ σφαίρῃ ἀνʼ ἰθὺν πειρήσαντο,
ὠρχείσθην δὴ ἔπειτα ποτὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ
ταρφέʼ ἀμειβομένω· κοῦροι δʼ ἐπελήκεον ἄλλοι
ἑστεῶτες κατʼ ἀγῶνα, πολὺς δʼ ὑπὸ κόμπος ὀρώρει.
δὴ τότʼ ἄρʼ Ἀλκίνοον προσεφώνεε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
Ἀλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,
ἠμὲν ἀπείλησας βητάρμονας εἶναι ἀρίστους,
ἠδʼ ἄρʼ ἑτοῖμα τέτυκτο· σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.
ὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,
αἶψα δὲ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μετηύδα·
κέκλυτε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες.
ὁ ξεῖνος μάλα μοι δοκέει πεπνυμένος εἶναι.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ δῶμεν ξεινήιον, ὡς ἐπιεικές.
δώδεκα γὰρ κατὰ δῆμον ἀριπρεπέες βασιλῆες
ἀρχοὶ κραίνουσι, τρισκαιδέκατος δʼ ἐγὼ αὐτός·
τῶν οἱ ἕκαστος φᾶρος ἐυπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα
καὶ χρυσοῖο τάλαντον ἐνείκατε τιμήεντος.
αἶψα δὲ πάντα φέρωμεν ἀολλέα, ὄφρʼ ἐνὶ χερσὶν
ξεῖνος ἔχων ἐπὶ δόρπον ἴῃ χαίρων ἐνὶ θυμῷ.
Εὐρύαλος δέ ἑ αὐτὸν ἀρεσσάσθω ἐπέεσσι
καὶ δώρῳ, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι ἔπος κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπεν.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον,
δῶρα δʼ ἄρʼ οἰσέμεναι πρόεσαν κήρυκα ἕκαστος.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύαλος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
Ἀλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,
τοιγὰρ ἐγὼ τὸν ξεῖνον ἀρέσσομαι, ὡς σὺ κελεύεις.
δώσω οἱ τόδʼ ἄορ παγχάλκεον, ᾧ ἔπι κώπη
ἀργυρέη, κολεὸν δὲ νεοπρίστου ἐλέφαντος
ἀμφιδεδίνηται· πολέος δέ οἱ ἄξιον ἔσται.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἐν χερσὶ τίθει ξίφος ἀργυρόηλον
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
χαῖρε, πάτερ ὦ ξεῖνε· ἔπος δʼ εἴ πέρ τι βέβακται
δεινόν, ἄφαρ τὸ φέροιεν ἀναρπάξασαι ἄελλαι.
σοὶ δὲ θεοὶ ἄλοχόν τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ πατρίδʼ ἱκέσθαι
δοῖεν, ἐπεὶ δὴ δηθὰ φίλων ἄπο πήματα πάσχεις.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
καὶ σὺ φίλος μάλα χαῖρε, θεοὶ δέ τοι ὄλβια δοῖεν.
μηδέ τι τοι ξίφεός γε ποθὴ μετόπισθε γένοιτο
τούτου, ὃ δή μοι δῶκας ἀρεσσάμενος ἐπέεσσιν.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισι θέτο ξίφος ἀργυρόηλον.
δύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος, καὶ τῷ κλυτὰ δῶρα παρῆεν.
καὶ τά γʼ ἐς Ἀλκινόοιο φέρον κήρυκες ἀγαυοί·
δεξάμενοι δʼ ἄρα παῖδες ἀμύμονος Ἀλκινόοιο
μητρὶ παρʼ αἰδοίῃ ἔθεσαν περικαλλέα δῶρα.
τοῖσιν δʼ ἡγεμόνευʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,
ἐλθόντες δὲ καθῖζον ἐν ὑψηλοῖσι θρόνοισι.
δή ῥα τότʼ Ἀρήτην προσέφη μένος Ἀλκινόοιο·
δεῦρο, γύναι, φέρε χηλὸν ἀριπρεπέʼ, ἥ τις ἀρίστη·
ἐν δʼ αὐτὴ θὲς φᾶρος ἐυπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα.
ἀμφὶ δέ οἱ πυρὶ χαλκὸν ἰήνατε, θέρμετε δʼ ὕδωρ,
ὄφρα λοεσσάμενός τε ἰδών τʼ ἐὺ κείμενα πάντα
δῶρα, τά οἱ Φαίηκες ἀμύμονες ἐνθάδʼ ἔνεικαν,
δαιτί τε τέρπηται καὶ ἀοιδῆς ὕμνον ἀκούων.
καί οἱ ἐγὼ τόδʼ ἄλεισον ἐμὸν περικαλλὲς ὀπάσσω,
χρύσεον, ὄφρʼ ἐμέθεν μεμνημένος ἤματα πάντα
σπένδῃ ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ Διί τʼ ἄλλοισίν τε θεοῖσιν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀρήτη δὲ μετὰ δμῳῇσιν ἔειπεν
ἀμφὶ πυρὶ στῆσαι τρίποδα μέγαν ὅττι τάχιστα.
αἱ δὲ λοετροχόον τρίποδʼ ἵστασαν ἐν πυρὶ κηλέῳ,
ἔν δʼ ἄρʼ ὕδωρ ἔχεαν, ὑπὸ δὲ ξύλα δαῖον ἑλοῦσαι.
γάστρην μὲν τρίποδος πῦρ ἄμφεπε, θέρμετο δʼ ὕδωρ·
τόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀρήτη ξείνῳ περικαλλέα χηλὸν
ἐξέφερεν θαλάμοιο, τίθει δʼ ἐνὶ κάλλιμα δῶρα,
ἐσθῆτα χρυσόν τε, τά οἱ Φαίηκες ἔδωκαν·
ἐν δʼ αὐτὴ φᾶρος θῆκεν καλόν τε χιτῶνα,
καί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
αὐτὸς νῦν ἴδε πῶμα, θοῶς δʼ ἐπὶ δεσμὸν ἴηλον,
μή τίς τοι καθʼ ὁδὸν δηλήσεται, ὁππότʼ ἂν αὖτε
εὕδῃσθα γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἰὼν ἐν νηὶ μελαίνῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
αὐτίκʼ ἐπήρτυε πῶμα, θοῶς δʼ ἐπὶ δεσμὸν ἴηλεν
ποικίλον, ὅν ποτέ μιν δέδαε φρεσὶ πότνια Κίρκη·
αὐτόδιον δʼ ἄρα μιν ταμίη λούσασθαι ἀνώγει
ἔς ῥʼ ἀσάμινθον βάνθʼ· ὁ δʼ ἄρ ἀσπασίως ἴδε θυμῷ
θερμὰ λοέτρʼ, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι κομιζόμενός γε θάμιζεν,
ἐπεὶ δὴ λίπε δῶμα Καλυψοῦς ἠυκόμοιο.
τόφρα δέ οἱ κομιδή γε θεῷ ὣς ἔμπεδος ἦεν.
τὸν δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δμῳαὶ λοῦσαν καὶ χρῖσαν ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν χλαῖναν καλὴν βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,
ἔκ ῥʼ ἀσαμίνθου βὰς ἄνδρας μέτα οἰνοποτῆρας
ἤιε· Ναυσικάα δὲ θεῶν ἄπο κάλλος ἔχουσα
στῆ ῥα παρὰ σταθμὸν τέγεος πύκα ποιητοῖο,
θαύμαζεν δʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶσα,
καί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
χαῖρε, ξεῖνʼ, ἵνα καί ποτʼ ἐὼν ἐν πατρίδι γαίῃ
μνήσῃ ἐμεῦ, ὅτι μοι πρώτῃ ζωάγριʼ ὀφέλλεις.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς.
Ναυσικάα θύγατερ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο,
οὕτω νῦν Ζεὺς θείη, ἐρίγδουπος πόσις Ἥρης,
οἴκαδέ τʼ ἐλθέμεναι καὶ νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἰδέσθαι·
τῷ κέν τοι καὶ κεῖθι θεῷ ὣς εὐχετοῴμην
αἰεὶ ἤματα πάντα· σὺ γάρ μʼ ἐβιώσαο, κούρη.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ἐς θρόνον ἷζε παρʼ Ἀλκίνοον βασιλῆα·
οἱ δʼ ἤδη μοίρας τʼ ἔνεμον κερόωντό τε οἶνον.
κῆρυξ δʼ ἐγγύθεν ἦλθεν ἄγων ἐρίηρον ἀοιδόν,
Δημόδοκον λαοῖσι τετιμένον· εἷσε δʼ ἄρʼ αὐτὸν
μέσσῳ δαιτυμόνων, πρὸς κίονα μακρὸν ἐρείσας.
δὴ τότε κήρυκα προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς,
νώτου ἀποπροταμών, ἐπὶ δὲ πλεῖον ἐλέλειπτο,
ἀργιόδοντος ὑός, θαλερὴ δʼ ἦν ἀμφὶς ἀλοιφή·
κῆρυξ, τῆ δή, τοῦτο πόρε κρέας, ὄφρα φάγῃσιν,
Δημοδόκῳ· καί μιν προσπτύξομαι ἀχνύμενός περ·
πᾶσι γὰρ ἀνθρώποισιν ἐπιχθονίοισιν ἀοιδοὶ
τιμῆς ἔμμοροί εἰσι καὶ αἰδοῦς, οὕνεκʼ ἄρα σφέας
οἴμας μοῦσʼ ἐδίδαξε, φίλησε δὲ φῦλον ἀοιδῶν.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, κῆρυξ δὲ φέρων ἐν χερσὶν ἔθηκεν
ἥρῳ Δημοδόκῳ· ὁ δʼ ἐδέξατο, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
δὴ τότε Δημόδοκον προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Δημόδοκʼ, ἔξοχα δή σε βροτῶν αἰνίζομʼ ἁπάντων.
ἢ σέ γε μοῦσʼ ἐδίδαξε, Διὸς πάϊς, ἢ σέ γʼ Ἀπόλλων·
λίην γὰρ κατὰ κόσμον Ἀχαιῶν οἶτον ἀείδεις,
ὅσσʼ ἔρξαν τʼ ἔπαθόν τε καὶ ὅσσʼ ἐμόγησαν Ἀχαιοί,
ὥς τέ που ἢ αὐτὸς παρεὼν ἢ ἄλλου ἀκούσας.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε δὴ μετάβηθι καὶ ἵππου κόσμον ἄεισον
δουρατέου, τὸν Ἐπειὸς ἐποίησεν σὺν Ἀθήνῃ,
ὅν ποτʼ ἐς ἀκρόπολιν δόλον ἤγαγε δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἀνδρῶν ἐμπλήσας οἵ ῥʼ Ἴλιον ἐξαλάπαξαν.
αἴ κεν δή μοι ταῦτα κατὰ μοῖραν καταλέξῃς,
αὐτίκʼ ἐγὼ πᾶσιν μυθήσομαι ἀνθρώποισιν,
ὡς ἄρα τοι πρόφρων θεὸς ὤπασε θέσπιν ἀοιδήν.
ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ ὁρμηθεὶς θεοῦ ἤρχετο, φαῖνε δʼ ἀοιδήν,
ἔνθεν ἑλὼν ὡς οἱ μὲν ἐυσσέλμων ἐπὶ νηῶν
βάντες ἀπέπλειον, πῦρ ἐν κλισίῃσι βαλόντες,
Ἀργεῖοι, τοὶ δʼ ἤδη ἀγακλυτὸν ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα
ἥατʼ ἐνὶ Τρώων ἀγορῇ κεκαλυμμένοι ἵππῳ·
αὐτοὶ γάρ μιν Τρῶες ἐς ἀκρόπολιν ἐρύσαντο.
ὣς ὁ μὲν ἑστήκει, τοὶ δʼ ἄκριτα πόλλʼ ἀγόρευον
ἥμενοι ἀμφʼ αὐτόν· τρίχα δέ σφισιν ἥνδανε βουλή,
ἠὲ διαπλῆξαι κοῖλον δόρυ νηλέι χαλκῷ,
ἢ κατὰ πετράων βαλέειν ἐρύσαντας ἐπʼ ἄκρης,
ἢ ἐάαν μέγʼ ἄγαλμα θεῶν θελκτήριον εἶναι,
τῇ περ δὴ καὶ ἔπειτα τελευτήσεσθαι ἔμελλεν·
αἶσα γὰρ ἦν ἀπολέσθαι, ἐπὴν πόλις ἀμφικαλύψῃ
δουράτεον μέγαν ἵππον, ὅθʼ ἥατο πάντες ἄριστοι
Ἀργείων Τρώεσσι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φέροντες.
ἤειδεν δʼ ὡς ἄστυ διέπραθον υἷες Ἀχαιῶν
ἱππόθεν ἐκχύμενοι, κοῖλον λόχον ἐκπρολιπόντες.
ἄλλον δʼ ἄλλῃ ἄειδε πόλιν κεραϊζέμεν αἰπήν,
αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆα προτὶ δώματα Δηιφόβοιο
βήμεναι, ἠύτʼ Ἄρηα σὺν ἀντιθέῳ Μενελάῳ.
κεῖθι δὴ αἰνότατον πόλεμον φάτο τολμήσαντα
νικῆσαι καὶ ἔπειτα διὰ μεγάθυμον Ἀθήνην.
ταῦτʼ ἄρʼ ἀοιδὸς ἄειδε περικλυτός· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
τήκετο, δάκρυ δʼ ἔδευεν ὑπὸ βλεφάροισι παρειάς.
ὡς δὲ γυνὴ κλαίῃσι φίλον πόσιν ἀμφιπεσοῦσα,
ὅς τε ἑῆς πρόσθεν πόλιος λαῶν τε πέσῃσιν,
ἄστεϊ καὶ τεκέεσσιν ἀμύνων νηλεὲς ἦμαρ·
ἡ μὲν τὸν θνήσκοντα καὶ ἀσπαίροντα ἰδοῦσα
ἀμφʼ αὐτῷ χυμένη λίγα κωκύει· οἱ δέ τʼ ὄπισθε
κόπτοντες δούρεσσι μετάφρενον ἠδὲ καὶ ὤμους
εἴρερον εἰσανάγουσι, πόνον τʼ ἐχέμεν καὶ ὀιζύν·
τῆς δʼ ἐλεεινοτάτῳ ἄχεϊ φθινύθουσι παρειαί·
ὣς Ὀδυσεὺς ἐλεεινὸν ὑπʼ ὀφρύσι δάκρυον εἶβεν.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλους μὲν πάντας ἐλάνθανε δάκρυα λείβων,
Ἀλκίνοος δέ μιν οἶος ἐπεφράσατʼ ἠδʼ ἐνόησεν,
ἥμενος ἄγχʼ αὐτοῦ, βαρὺ δὲ στενάχοντος ἄκουσεν.
αἶψα δὲ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μετηύδα·
κέκλυτε, Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,
Δημόδοκος δʼ ἤδη σχεθέτω φόρμιγγα λίγειαν·
οὐ γάρ πως πάντεσσι χαριζόμενος τάδʼ ἀείδει.
ἐξ οὗ δορπέομέν τε καὶ ὤρορε θεῖος ἀοιδός,
ἐκ τοῦ δʼ οὔ πω παύσατʼ ὀιζυροῖο γόοιο
ὁ ξεῖνος· μάλα πού μιν ἄχος φρένας ἀμφιβέβηκεν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ὁ μὲν σχεθέτω, ἵνʼ ὁμῶς τερπώμεθα πάντες,
ξεινοδόκοι καὶ ξεῖνος, ἐπεὶ πολὺ κάλλιον οὕτως·
εἵνεκα γὰρ ξείνοιο τάδʼ αἰδοίοιο τέτυκται,
πομπὴ καὶ φίλα δῶρα, τά οἱ δίδομεν φιλέοντες.
ἀντὶ κασιγνήτου ξεῖνός θʼ ἱκέτης τε τέτυκται
ἀνέρι, ὅς τʼ ὀλίγον περ ἐπιψαύῃ πραπίδεσσι.
τῷ νῦν μηδὲ σὺ κεῦθε νοήμασι κερδαλέοισιν
ὅττι κέ σʼ εἴρωμαι· φάσθαι δέ σε κάλλιόν ἐστιν.
εἴπʼ ὄνομʼ ὅττι σε κεῖθι κάλεον μήτηρ τε πατήρ τε
ἄλλοι θʼ οἳ κατὰ ἄστυ καὶ οἳ περιναιετάουσιν.
οὐ μὲν γάρ τις πάμπαν ἀνώνυμός ἐστʼ ἀνθρώπων,
οὐ κακὸς οὐδὲ μὲν ἐσθλός, ἐπὴν τὰ πρῶτα γένηται,
ἀλλʼ ἐπὶ πᾶσι τίθενται, ἐπεί κε τέκωσι, τοκῆες.
εἰπὲ δέ μοι γαῖάν τε· τεὴν δῆμόν τε πόλιν τε,
ὄφρα σε τῇ πέμπωσι τιτυσκόμεναι φρεσὶ νῆες·
οὐ γὰρ Φαιήκεσσι κυβερνητῆρες ἔασιν,
οὐδέ τι πηδάλιʼ ἔστι, τά τʼ ἄλλαι νῆες ἔχουσιν·
ἀλλʼ αὐταὶ ἴσασι νοήματα καὶ φρένας ἀνδρῶν,
καὶ πάντων ἴσασι πόλιας καὶ πίονας ἀγροὺς
ἀνθρώπων, καὶ λαῖτμα τάχισθʼ ἁλὸς ἐκπερόωσιν
ἠέρι καὶ νεφέλῃ κεκαλυμμέναι· οὐδέ ποτέ σφιν
οὔτε τι πημανθῆναι ἔπι δέος οὔτʼ ἀπολέσθαι.
ἀλλὰ τόδʼ ὥς ποτε πατρὸς ἐγὼν εἰπόντος ἄκουσα
Ναυσιθόου, ὃς ἔφασκε Ποσειδάωνʼ ἀγάσασθαι
ἡμῖν, οὕνεκα πομποὶ ἀπήμονές εἰμεν ἁπάντων.
φῆ ποτὲ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν ἐυεργέα νῆα
ἐκ πομπῆς ἀνιοῦσαν ἐν ἠεροειδέι πόντῳ
ῥαισέμεναι, μέγα δʼ ἧμιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψειν.
ὣς ἀγόρευʼ ὁ γέρων· τὰ δέ κεν θεὸς ἢ τελέσειεν
ἤ κʼ ἀτέλεστʼ εἴη, ὥς οἱ φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ·
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
ὅππῃ ἀπεπλάγχθης τε καὶ ἅς τινας ἵκεο χώρας
ἀνθρώπων, αὐτούς τε πόλιάς τʼ ἐὺ ναιετοώσας,
ἠμὲν ὅσοι χαλεποί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,
οἵ τε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής.
εἰπὲ δʼ ὅ τι κλαίεις καὶ ὀδύρεαι ἔνδοθι θυμῷ
Ἀργείων Δαναῶν ἠδʼ Ἰλίου οἶτον ἀκούων.
τὸν δὲ θεοὶ μὲν τεῦξαν, ἐπεκλώσαντο δʼ ὄλεθρον
ἀνθρώποις, ἵνα ᾖσι καὶ ἐσσομένοισιν ἀοιδή.
ἦ τίς τοι καὶ πηὸς ἀπέφθιτο Ἰλιόθι πρὸ
ἐσθλὸς ἐών, γαμβρὸς ἢ πενθερός, οἵ τε μάλιστα
κήδιστοι τελέθουσι μεθʼ αἷμά τε καὶ γένος αὐτῶν;
ἦ τίς που καὶ ἑταῖρος ἀνὴρ κεχαρισμένα εἰδώς,
ἐσθλός; ἐπεὶ οὐ μέν τι κασιγνήτοιο χερείων
γίγνεται, ὅς κεν ἑταῖρος ἐὼν πεπνυμένα εἰδῇ.

### Book 9

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Ἀλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,
ἦ τοι μὲν τόδε καλὸν ἀκουέμεν ἐστὶν ἀοιδοῦ
τοιοῦδʼ οἷος ὅδʼ ἐστί, θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιος αὐδήν.
οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γέ τί φημι τέλος χαριέστερον εἶναι
ἢ ὅτʼ ἐυφροσύνη μὲν ἔχῃ κάτα δῆμον ἅπαντα,
δαιτυμόνες δʼ ἀνὰ δώματʼ ἀκουάζωνται ἀοιδοῦ
ἥμενοι ἑξείης, παρὰ δὲ πλήθωσι τράπεζαι
σίτου καὶ κρειῶν, μέθυ δʼ ἐκ κρητῆρος ἀφύσσων
οἰνοχόος φορέῃσι καὶ ἐγχείῃ δεπάεσσι·
τοῦτό τί μοι κάλλιστον ἐνὶ φρεσὶν εἴδεται εἶναι.
σοὶ δʼ ἐμὰ κήδεα θυμὸς ἐπετράπετο στονόεντα
εἴρεσθʼ, ὄφρʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὀδυρόμενος στεναχίζω·
τί πρῶτόν τοι ἔπειτα, τί δʼ ὑστάτιον καταλέξω;
κήδεʼ ἐπεί μοι πολλὰ δόσαν θεοὶ Οὐρανίωνες.
νῦν δʼ ὄνομα πρῶτον μυθήσομαι, ὄφρα καὶ ὑμεῖς
εἴδετʼ, ἐγὼ δʼ ἂν ἔπειτα φυγὼν ὕπο νηλεὲς ἦμαρ
ὑμῖν ξεῖνος ἔω καὶ ἀπόπροθι δώματα ναίων.
εἴμʼ Ὀδυσεὺς Λαερτιάδης, ὃς πᾶσι δόλοισιν
ἀνθρώποισι μέλω, καί μευ κλέος οὐρανὸν ἵκει.
ναιετάω δʼ Ἰθάκην ἐυδείελον· ἐν δʼ ὄρος αὐτῇ
Νήριτον εἰνοσίφυλλον, ἀριπρεπές· ἀμφὶ δὲ νῆσοι
πολλαὶ ναιετάουσι μάλα σχεδὸν ἀλλήλῃσι,
Δουλίχιόν τε Σάμη τε καὶ ὑλήεσσα Ζάκυνθος.
αὐτὴ δὲ χθαμαλὴ πανυπερτάτη εἰν ἁλὶ κεῖται
πρὸς ζόφον, αἱ δέ τʼ ἄνευθε πρὸς ἠῶ τʼ ἠέλιόν τε,
τρηχεῖʼ, ἀλλʼ ἀγαθὴ κουροτρόφος· οὔ τοι ἐγώ γε
ἧς γαίης δύναμαι γλυκερώτερον ἄλλο ἰδέσθαι.
ἦ μέν μʼ αὐτόθʼ ἔρυκε Καλυψώ, δῖα θεάων,
ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι·
ὣς δʼ αὔτως Κίρκη κατερήτυεν ἐν μεγάροισιν
Αἰαίη δολόεσσα, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι·
ἀλλʼ ἐμὸν οὔ ποτε θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔπειθον.
ὣς οὐδὲν γλύκιον ἧς πατρίδος οὐδὲ τοκήων
γίγνεται, εἴ περ καί τις ἀπόπροθι πίονα οἶκον
γαίῃ ἐν ἀλλοδαπῇ ναίει ἀπάνευθε τοκήων.
εἰ δʼ ἄγε τοι καὶ νόστον ἐμὸν πολυκηδέʼ ἐνίσπω,
ὅν μοι Ζεὺς ἐφέηκεν ἀπὸ Τροίηθεν ἰόντι.
Ἰλιόθεν με φέρων ἄνεμος Κικόνεσσι πέλασσεν,
Ἰσμάρῳ. ἔνθα δʼ ἐγὼ πόλιν ἔπραθον, ὤλεσα δʼ αὐτούς·
ἐκ πόλιος δʼ ἀλόχους καὶ κτήματα πολλὰ λαβόντες
δασσάμεθʼ, ὡς μή τίς μοι ἀτεμβόμενος κίοι ἴσης.
ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ διερῷ ποδὶ φευγέμεν ἡμέας
ἠνώγεα, τοὶ δὲ μέγα νήπιοι οὐκ ἐπίθοντο.
ἔνθα δὲ πολλὸν μὲν μέθυ πίνετο, πολλὰ δὲ μῆλα
ἔσφαζον παρὰ θῖνα καὶ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς·
τόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ οἰχόμενοι Κίκονες Κικόνεσσι γεγώνευν,
οἵ σφιν γείτονες ἦσαν, ἅμα πλέονες καὶ ἀρείους,
ἤπειρον ναίοντες, ἐπιστάμενοι μὲν ἀφʼ ἵππων
ἀνδράσι μάρνασθαι καὶ ὅθι χρὴ πεζὸν ἐόντα.
ἦλθον ἔπειθʼ ὅσα φύλλα καὶ ἄνθεα γίγνεται ὥρῃ,
ἠέριοι· τότε δή ῥα κακὴ Διὸς αἶσα παρέστη
ἡμῖν αἰνομόροισιν, ἵνʼ ἄλγεα πολλὰ πάθοιμεν.
στησάμενοι δʼ ἐμάχοντο μάχην παρὰ νηυσὶ θοῇσι,
βάλλον δʼ ἀλλήλους χαλκήρεσιν ἐγχείῃσιν.
ὄφρα μὲν ἠὼς ἦν καὶ ἀέξετο ἱερὸν ἦμαρ,
τόφρα δʼ ἀλεξόμενοι μένομεν πλέονάς περ ἐόντας.
ἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος μετενίσσετο βουλυτόνδε,
καὶ τότε δὴ Κίκονες κλῖναν δαμάσαντες Ἀχαιούς.
ἓξ δʼ ἀφʼ ἑκάστης νηὸς ἐυκνήμιδες ἑταῖροι
ὤλονθʼ· οἱ δʼ ἄλλοι φύγομεν θάνατόν τε μόρον τε.
ἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ,
ἄσμενοι ἐκ θανάτοιο, φίλους ὀλέσαντες ἑταίρους.
οὐδʼ ἄρα μοι προτέρω νῆες κίον ἀμφιέλισσαι,
πρίν τινα τῶν δειλῶν ἑτάρων τρὶς ἕκαστον ἀῦσαι,
οἳ θάνον ἐν πεδίῳ Κικόνων ὕπο δῃωθέντες.
νηυσὶ δʼ ἐπῶρσʼ ἄνεμον Βορέην νεφεληγερέτα Ζεὺς
λαίλαπι θεσπεσίῃ, σὺν δὲ νεφέεσσι κάλυψε
γαῖαν ὁμοῦ καὶ πόντον· ὀρώρει δʼ οὐρανόθεν νύξ.
αἱ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἐφέροντʼ ἐπικάρσιαι, ἱστία δέ σφιν
τριχθά τε καὶ τετραχθὰ διέσχισεν ἲς ἀνέμοιο.
καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐς νῆας κάθεμεν, δείσαντες ὄλεθρον,
αὐτὰς δʼ ἐσσυμένως προερέσσαμεν ἤπειρόνδε.
ἔνθα δύω νύκτας δύο τʼ ἤματα συνεχὲς αἰεὶ
κείμεθʼ, ὁμοῦ καμάτῳ τε καὶ ἄλγεσι θυμὸν ἔδοντες.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τρίτον ἦμαρ ἐυπλόκαμος τέλεσʼ Ἠώς,
ἱστοὺς στησάμενοι ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λεύκʼ ἐρύσαντες
ἥμεθα, τὰς δʼ ἄνεμός τε κυβερνῆταί τʼ ἴθυνον.
καί νύ κεν ἀσκηθὴς ἱκόμην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·
ἀλλά με κῦμα ῥόος τε περιγνάμπτοντα Μάλειαν
καὶ Βορέης ἀπέωσε, παρέπλαγξεν δὲ Κυθήρων.
ἔνθεν δʼ ἐννῆμαρ φερόμην ὀλοοῖς ἀνέμοισιν
πόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα· ἀτὰρ δεκάτῃ ἐπέβημεν
γαίης Λωτοφάγων, οἵ τʼ ἄνθινον εἶδαρ ἔδουσιν.
ἔνθα δʼ ἐπʼ ἠπείρου βῆμεν καὶ ἀφυσσάμεθʼ ὕδωρ,
αἶψα δὲ δεῖπνον ἕλοντο θοῇς παρὰ νηυσὶν ἑταῖροι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σίτοιό τʼ ἐπασσάμεθʼ ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,
δὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάρους προΐειν πεύθεσθαι ἰόντας,
οἵ τινες ἀνέρες εἶεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ σῖτον ἔδοντες
ἄνδρε δύω κρίνας, τρίτατον κήρυχʼ ἅμʼ ὀπάσσας.
οἱ δʼ αἶψʼ οἰχόμενοι μίγεν ἀνδράσι Λωτοφάγοισιν·
οὐδʼ ἄρα Λωτοφάγοι μήδονθʼ ἑτάροισιν ὄλεθρον
ἡμετέροις, ἀλλά σφι δόσαν λωτοῖο πάσασθαι.
τῶν δʼ ὅς τις λωτοῖο φάγοι μελιηδέα καρπόν,
οὐκέτʼ ἀπαγγεῖλαι πάλιν ἤθελεν οὐδὲ νέεσθαι,
ἀλλʼ αὐτοῦ βούλοντο μετʼ ἀνδράσι Λωτοφάγοισι
λωτὸν ἐρεπτόμενοι μενέμεν νόστου τε λαθέσθαι.
τοὺς μὲν ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆας ἄγον κλαίοντας ἀνάγκῃ,
νηυσὶ δʼ ἐνὶ γλαφυρῇσιν ὑπὸ ζυγὰ δῆσα ἐρύσσας.
αὐτὰρ τοὺς ἄλλους κελόμην ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους
σπερχομένους νηῶν ἐπιβαινέμεν ὠκειάων,
μή πώς τις λωτοῖο φαγὼν νόστοιο λάθηται.
οἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,
ἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ·
Κυκλώπων δʼ ἐς γαῖαν ὑπερφιάλων ἀθεμίστων
ἱκόμεθʼ, οἵ ῥα θεοῖσι πεποιθότες ἀθανάτοισιν
οὔτε φυτεύουσιν χερσὶν φυτὸν οὔτʼ ἀρόωσιν,
ἀλλὰ τά γʼ ἄσπαρτα καὶ ἀνήροτα πάντα φύονται,
πυροὶ καὶ κριθαὶ ἠδʼ ἄμπελοι, αἵ τε φέρουσιν
οἶνον ἐριστάφυλον, καί σφιν Διὸς ὄμβρος ἀέξει.
τοῖσιν δʼ οὔτʼ ἀγοραὶ βουληφόροι οὔτε θέμιστες,
ἀλλʼ οἵ γʼ ὑψηλῶν ὀρέων ναίουσι κάρηνα
ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, θεμιστεύει δὲ ἕκαστος
παίδων ἠδʼ ἀλόχων, οὐδʼ ἀλλήλων ἀλέγουσιν.
νῆσος ἔπειτα λάχεια παρὲκ λιμένος τετάνυσται,
γαίης Κυκλώπων οὔτε σχεδὸν οὔτʼ ἀποτηλοῦ,
ὑλήεσσʼ· ἐν δʼ αἶγες ἀπειρέσιαι γεγάασιν
ἄγριαι· οὐ μὲν γὰρ πάτος ἀνθρώπων ἀπερύκει,
οὐδέ μιν εἰσοιχνεῦσι κυνηγέται, οἵ τε καθʼ ὕλην
ἄλγεα πάσχουσιν κορυφὰς ὀρέων ἐφέποντες.
οὔτʼ ἄρα ποίμνῃσιν καταΐσχεται οὔτʼ ἀρότοισιν,
ἀλλʼ ἥ γʼ ἄσπαρτος καὶ ἀνήροτος ἤματα πάντα
ἀνδρῶν χηρεύει, βόσκει δέ τε μηκάδας αἶγας.
οὐ γὰρ Κυκλώπεσσι νέες πάρα μιλτοπάρῃοι,
οὐδʼ ἄνδρες νηῶν ἔνι τέκτονες, οἵ κε κάμοιεν
νῆας ἐυσσέλμους, αἵ κεν τελέοιεν ἕκαστα
ἄστεʼ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπων ἱκνεύμεναι, οἷά τε πολλὰ
ἄνδρες ἐπʼ ἀλλήλους νηυσὶν περόωσι θάλασσαν·
οἵ κέ σφιν καὶ νῆσον ἐυκτιμένην ἐκάμοντο.
οὐ μὲν γάρ τι κακή γε, φέροι δέ κεν ὥρια πάντα·
ἐν μὲν γὰρ λειμῶνες ἁλὸς πολιοῖο παρʼ ὄχθας
ὑδρηλοὶ μαλακοί· μάλα κʼ ἄφθιτοι ἄμπελοι εἶεν.
ἐν δʼ ἄροσις λείη· μάλα κεν βαθὺ λήιον αἰεὶ
εἰς ὥρας ἀμῷεν, ἐπεὶ μάλα πῖαρ ὑπʼ οὖδας.
ἐν δὲ λιμὴν ἐύορμος, ἵνʼ οὐ χρεὼ πείσματός ἐστιν,
οὔτʼ εὐνὰς βαλέειν οὔτε πρυμνήσιʼ ἀνάψαι,
ἀλλʼ ἐπικέλσαντας μεῖναι χρόνον εἰς ὅ κε ναυτέων
θυμὸς ἐποτρύνῃ καὶ ἐπιπνεύσωσιν ἀῆται.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὶ κρατὸς λιμένος ῥέει ἀγλαὸν ὕδωρ,
κρήνη ὑπὸ σπείους· περὶ δʼ αἴγειροι πεφύασιν.
ἔνθα κατεπλέομεν, καί τις θεὸς ἡγεμόνευεν
νύκτα διʼ ὀρφναίην, οὐδὲ προυφαίνετʼ ἰδέσθαι·
ἀὴρ γὰρ περὶ νηυσὶ βαθεῖʼ ἦν, οὐδὲ σελήνη
οὐρανόθεν προύφαινε, κατείχετο δὲ νεφέεσσιν.
ἔνθʼ οὔ τις τὴν νῆσον ἐσέδρακεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
οὔτʼ οὖν κύματα μακρὰ κυλινδόμενα προτὶ χέρσον
εἰσίδομεν, πρὶν νῆας ἐυσσέλμους ἐπικέλσαι.
κελσάσῃσι δὲ νηυσὶ καθείλομεν ἱστία πάντα,
ἐκ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βῆμεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης·
ἔνθα δʼ ἀποβρίξαντες ἐμείναμεν Ἠῶ δῖαν.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
νῆσον θαυμάζοντες ἐδινεόμεσθα κατʼ αὐτήν.
ὦρσαν δὲ νύμφαι, κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο,
αἶγας ὀρεσκῴους, ἵνα δειπνήσειαν ἑταῖροι.
αὐτίκα καμπύλα τόξα καὶ αἰγανέας δολιχαύλους
εἱλόμεθʼ ἐκ νηῶν, διὰ δὲ τρίχα κοσμηθέντες
βάλλομεν· αἶψα δʼ ἔδωκε θεὸς μενοεικέα θήρην.
νῆες μέν μοι ἕποντο δυώδεκα, ἐς δὲ ἑκάστην
ἐννέα λάγχανον αἶγες· ἐμοὶ δὲ δέκʼ ἔξελον οἴῳ.
ὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα
ἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·
οὐ γάρ πω νηῶν ἐξέφθιτο οἶνος ἐρυθρός,
ἀλλʼ ἐνέην· πολλὸν γὰρ ἐν ἀμφιφορεῦσιν ἕκαστοι
ἠφύσαμεν Κικόνων. ἱερὸν πτολίεθρον ἑλόντες.
Κυκλώπων δʼ ἐς γαῖαν ἐλεύσσομεν ἐγγὺς ἐόντων,
καπνόν τʼ αὐτῶν τε φθογγὴν ὀίων τε καὶ αἰγῶν.
ἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθε,
δὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
καὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἀγορὴν θέμενος μετὰ πᾶσιν ἔειπον·
ἄλλοι μὲν νῦν μίμνετʼ, ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σὺν νηί τʼ ἐμῇ καὶ ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισιν
ἐλθὼν τῶνδʼ ἀνδρῶν πειρήσομαι, οἵ τινές εἰσιν,
ἤ ῥʼ οἵ γʼ ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,
ἦε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἀνὰ νηὸς ἔβην, ἐκέλευσα δʼ ἑταίρους
αὐτούς τʼ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι.
οἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,
ἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τὸν χῶρον ἀφικόμεθʼ ἐγγὺς ἐόντα,
ἔνθα δʼ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῇ σπέος εἴδομεν ἄγχι θαλάσσης,
ὑψηλόν, δάφνῃσι κατηρεφές. ἔνθα δὲ πολλὰ
μῆλʼ, ὄιές τε καὶ αἶγες, ἰαύεσκον· περὶ δʼ αὐλὴ
ὑψηλὴ δέδμητο κατωρυχέεσσι λίθοισι
μακρῇσίν τε πίτυσσιν ἰδὲ δρυσὶν ὑψικόμοισιν.
ἔνθα δʼ ἀνὴρ ἐνίαυε πελώριος, ὅς ῥα τὰ μῆλα
οἶος ποιμαίνεσκεν ἀπόπροθεν· οὐδὲ μετʼ ἄλλους
πωλεῖτʼ, ἀλλʼ ἀπάνευθεν ἐὼν ἀθεμίστια ᾔδη.
καὶ γὰρ θαῦμʼ ἐτέτυκτο πελώριον, οὐδὲ ἐῴκει
ἀνδρί γε σιτοφάγῳ, ἀλλὰ ῥίῳ ὑλήεντι
ὑψηλῶν ὀρέων, ὅ τε φαίνεται οἶον ἀπʼ ἄλλων.
δὴ τότε τοὺς ἄλλους κελόμην ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους
αὐτοῦ πὰρ νηί τε μένειν καὶ νῆα ἔρυσθαι,
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ κρίνας ἑτάρων δυοκαίδεκʼ ἀρίστους
βῆν· ἀτὰρ αἴγεον ἀσκὸν ἔχον μέλανος οἴνοιο
ἡδέος, ὅν μοι ἔδωκε Μάρων, Ἐυάνθεος υἱός,
ἱρεὺς Ἀπόλλωνος, ὃς Ἴσμαρον ἀμφιβεβήκει,
οὕνεκά μιν σὺν παιδὶ περισχόμεθʼ ἠδὲ γυναικὶ
ἁζόμενοι· ᾤκει γὰρ ἐν ἄλσεϊ δενδρήεντι
Φοίβου Ἀπόλλωνος. ὁ δέ μοι πόρεν ἀγλαὰ δῶρα·
χρυσοῦ μέν μοι ἔδωκʼ ἐυεργέος ἑπτὰ τάλαντα,
δῶκε δέ μοι κρητῆρα πανάργυρον, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
οἶνον ἐν ἀμφιφορεῦσι δυώδεκα πᾶσιν ἀφύσσας
ἡδὺν ἀκηράσιον, θεῖον ποτόν· οὐδέ τις αὐτὸν
ἠείδη δμώων οὐδʼ ἀμφιπόλων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
ἀλλʼ αὐτὸς ἄλοχός τε φίλη ταμίη τε μίʼ οἴη.
τὸν δʼ ὅτε πίνοιεν μελιηδέα οἶνον ἐρυθρόν,
ἓν δέπας ἐμπλήσας ὕδατος ἀνὰ εἴκοσι μέτρα
χεῦʼ, ὀδμὴ δʼ ἡδεῖα ἀπὸ κρητῆρος ὀδώδει
θεσπεσίη· τότʼ ἂν οὔ τοι ἀποσχέσθαι φίλον ἦεν.
τοῦ φέρον ἐμπλήσας ἀσκὸν μέγαν, ἐν δὲ καὶ ᾖα
κωρύκῳ· αὐτίκα γάρ μοι ὀίσατο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ
ἄνδρʼ ἐπελεύσεσθαι μεγάλην ἐπιειμένον ἀλκήν,
ἄγριον, οὔτε δίκας ἐὺ εἰδότα οὔτε θέμιστας.
καρπαλίμως δʼ εἰς ἄντρον ἀφικόμεθʼ, οὐδέ μιν ἔνδον
εὕρομεν, ἀλλʼ ἐνόμευε νομὸν κάτα πίονα μῆλα.
ἐλθόντες δʼ εἰς ἄντρον ἐθηεύμεσθα ἕκαστα.
ταρσοὶ μὲν τυρῶν βρῖθον, στείνοντο δὲ σηκοὶ
ἀρνῶν ἠδʼ ἐρίφων· διακεκριμέναι δὲ ἕκασται
ἔρχατο, χωρὶς μὲν πρόγονοι, χωρὶς δὲ μέτασσαι,
χωρὶς δʼ αὖθʼ ἕρσαι. ναῖον δʼ ὀρῷ ἄγγεα πάντα,
γαυλοί τε σκαφίδες τε, τετυγμένα, τοῖς ἐνάμελγεν.
ἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν πρώτισθʼ ἕταροι λίσσοντʼ ἐπέεσσιν
τυρῶν αἰνυμένους ἰέναι πάλιν, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
καρπαλίμως ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν ἐρίφους τε καὶ ἄρνας
σηκῶν ἐξελάσαντας ἐπιπλεῖν ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ·
ἀλλʼ ἐγὼ οὐ πιθόμην, ἦ τʼ ἂν πολὺ κέρδιον ἦεν,
ὄφρʼ αὐτόν τε ἴδοιμι, καὶ εἴ μοι ξείνια δοίη.
οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔμελλʼ ἑτάροισι φανεὶς ἐρατεινὸς ἔσεσθαι.
ἔνθα δὲ πῦρ κήαντες ἐθύσαμεν ἠδὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ
τυρῶν αἰνύμενοι φάγομεν, μένομέν τέ μιν ἔνδον
ἥμενοι, ἧος ἐπῆλθε νέμων. φέρε δʼ ὄβριμον ἄχθος
ὕλης ἀζαλέης, ἵνα οἱ ποτιδόρπιον εἴη,
ἔντοσθεν δʼ ἄντροιο βαλὼν ὀρυμαγδὸν ἔθηκεν·
ἡμεῖς δὲ δείσαντες ἀπεσσύμεθʼ ἐς μυχὸν ἄντρου.
αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ εἰς εὐρὺ σπέος ἤλασε πίονα μῆλα
πάντα μάλʼ ὅσσʼ ἤμελγε, τὰ δʼ ἄρσενα λεῖπε θύρηφιν,
ἀρνειούς τε τράγους τε, βαθείης ἔκτοθεν αὐλῆς.
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτʼ ἐπέθηκε θυρεὸν μέγαν ὑψόσʼ ἀείρας,
ὄβριμον· οὐκ ἂν τόν γε δύω καὶ εἴκοσʼ ἄμαξαι
ἐσθλαὶ τετράκυκλοι ἀπʼ οὔδεος ὀχλίσσειαν·
τόσσην ἠλίβατον πέτρην ἐπέθηκε θύρῃσιν.
ἑζόμενος δʼ ἤμελγεν ὄις καὶ μηκάδας αἶγας,
πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, καὶ ὑπʼ ἔμβρυον ἧκεν ἑκάστῃ.
αὐτίκα δʼ ἥμισυ μὲν θρέψας λευκοῖο γάλακτος
πλεκτοῖς ἐν ταλάροισιν ἀμησάμενος κατέθηκεν,
ἥμισυ δʼ αὖτʼ ἔστησεν ἐν ἄγγεσιν, ὄφρα οἱ εἴη
πίνειν αἰνυμένῳ καί οἱ ποτιδόρπιον εἴη.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ σπεῦσε πονησάμενος τὰ ἃ ἔργα,
καὶ τότε πῦρ ἀνέκαιε καὶ εἴσιδεν, εἴρετο δʼ ἡμέας·
ὦ ξεῖνοι, τίνες ἐστέ; πόθεν πλεῖθʼ ὑγρὰ κέλευθα;
ἦ τι κατὰ πρῆξιν ἦ μαψιδίως ἀλάλησθε,
οἷά τε ληιστῆρες, ὑπεὶρ ἅλα, τοί τʼ ἀλόωνται
ψυχὰς παρθέμενοι κακὸν ἀλλοδαποῖσι φέροντες;
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,
δεισάντων φθόγγον τε βαρὺν αὐτόν τε πέλωρον.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὥς μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ἡμεῖς τοι Τροίηθεν ἀποπλαγχθέντες Ἀχαιοὶ
παντοίοις ἀνέμοισιν ὑπὲρ μέγα λαῖτμα θαλάσσης,
οἴκαδε ἱέμενοι, ἄλλην ὁδὸν ἄλλα κέλευθα
ἤλθομεν· οὕτω που Ζεὺς ἤθελε μητίσασθαι.
λαοὶ δʼ Ἀτρεΐδεω Ἀγαμέμνονος εὐχόμεθʼ εἶναι,
τοῦ δὴ νῦν γε μέγιστον ὑπουράνιον κλέος ἐστί·
τόσσην γὰρ διέπερσε πόλιν καὶ ἀπώλεσε λαοὺς
πολλούς. ἡμεῖς δʼ αὖτε κιχανόμενοι τὰ σὰ γοῦνα
ἱκόμεθʼ, εἴ τι πόροις ξεινήιον ἠὲ καὶ ἄλλως
δοίης δωτίνην, ἥ τε ξείνων θέμις ἐστίν.
ἀλλʼ αἰδεῖο, φέριστε, θεούς· ἱκέται δέ τοί εἰμεν,
Ζεὺς δʼ ἐπιτιμήτωρ ἱκετάων τε ξείνων τε,
ξείνιος, ὃς ξείνοισιν ἅμʼ αἰδοίοισιν ὀπηδεῖ.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο νηλέι θυμῷ·
νήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖνʼ, ἢ τηλόθεν εἰλήλουθας,
ὅς με θεοὺς κέλεαι ἢ δειδίμεν ἢ ἀλέασθαι·
οὐ γὰρ Κύκλωπες Διὸς αἰγιόχου ἀλέγουσιν
οὐδὲ θεῶν μακάρων, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτεροί εἰμεν·
οὐδʼ ἂν ἐγὼ Διὸς ἔχθος ἀλευάμενος πεφιδοίμην
οὔτε σεῦ οὔθʼ ἑτάρων, εἰ μὴ θυμός με κελεύοι.
ἀλλά μοι εἴφʼ ὅπῃ ἔσχες ἰὼν ἐυεργέα νῆα,
ἤ που ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῆς, ἦ καὶ σχεδόν, ὄφρα δαείω.
ὣς φάτο πειράζων, ἐμὲ δʼ οὐ λάθεν εἰδότα πολλά,
ἀλλά μιν ἄψορρον προσέφην δολίοις ἐπέεσσι·
νέα μέν μοι κατέαξε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων
πρὸς πέτρῃσι βαλὼν ὑμῆς ἐπὶ πείρασι γαίης,
ἄκρῃ προσπελάσας· ἄνεμος δʼ ἐκ πόντου ἔνεικεν·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σὺν τοῖσδε ὑπέκφυγον αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ οὐδὲν ἀμείβετο νηλέι θυμῷ,
ἀλλʼ ὅ γʼ ἀναΐξας ἑτάροις ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἴαλλε,
σὺν δὲ δύω μάρψας ὥς τε σκύλακας ποτὶ γαίῃ
κόπτʼ· ἐκ δʼ ἐγκέφαλος χαμάδις ῥέε, δεῦε δὲ γαῖαν.
τοὺς δὲ διὰ μελεϊστὶ ταμὼν ὡπλίσσατο δόρπον·
ἤσθιε δʼ ὥς τε λέων ὀρεσίτροφος, οὐδʼ ἀπέλειπεν,
ἔγκατά τε σάρκας τε καὶ ὀστέα μυελόεντα.
ἡμεῖς δὲ κλαίοντες ἀνεσχέθομεν Διὶ χεῖρας,
σχέτλια ἔργʼ ὁρόωντες, ἀμηχανίη δʼ ἔχε θυμόν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Κύκλωψ μεγάλην ἐμπλήσατο νηδὺν
ἀνδρόμεα κρέʼ ἔδων καὶ ἐπʼ ἄκρητον γάλα πίνων,
κεῖτʼ ἔντοσθʼ ἄντροιο τανυσσάμενος διὰ μήλων.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ βούλευσα κατὰ μεγαλήτορα θυμὸν
ἆσσον ἰών, ξίφος ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ,
οὐτάμεναι πρὸς στῆθος, ὅθι φρένες ἧπαρ ἔχουσι,
χείρʼ ἐπιμασσάμενος· ἕτερος δέ με θυμὸς ἔρυκεν.
αὐτοῦ γάρ κε καὶ ἄμμες ἀπωλόμεθʼ αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον·
οὐ γάρ κεν δυνάμεσθα θυράων ὑψηλάων
χερσὶν ἀπώσασθαι λίθον ὄβριμον, ὃν προσέθηκεν.
ὣς τότε μὲν στενάχοντες ἐμείναμεν Ἠῶ δῖαν.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
καὶ τότε πῦρ ἀνέκαιε καὶ ἤμελγε κλυτὰ μῆλα,
πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, καὶ ὑπʼ ἔμβρυον ἧκεν ἑκάστῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ σπεῦσε πονησάμενος τὰ ἃ ἔργα,
σὺν δʼ ὅ γε δὴ αὖτε δύω μάρψας ὡπλίσσατο δεῖπνον.
δειπνήσας δʼ ἄντρου ἐξήλασε πίονα μῆλα,
ῥηιδίως ἀφελὼν θυρεὸν μέγαν· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
ἂψ ἐπέθηχʼ, ὡς εἴ τε φαρέτρῃ πῶμʼ ἐπιθείη.
πολλῇ δὲ ῥοίζῳ πρὸς ὄρος τρέπε πίονα μῆλα
Κύκλωψ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ λιπόμην κακὰ βυσσοδομεύων,
εἴ πως τισαίμην, δοίη δέ μοι εὖχος Ἀθήνη.
ἥδε δέ μοι κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή.
Κύκλωπος γὰρ ἔκειτο μέγα ῥόπαλον παρὰ σηκῷ,
χλωρὸν ἐλαΐνεον· τὸ μὲν ἔκταμεν, ὄφρα φοροίη
αὐανθέν. τὸ μὲν ἄμμες ἐίσκομεν εἰσορόωντες
ὅσσον θʼ ἱστὸν νηὸς ἐεικοσόροιο μελαίνης,
φορτίδος εὐρείης, ἥ τʼ ἐκπεράᾳ μέγα λαῖτμα·
τόσσον ἔην μῆκος, τόσσον πάχος εἰσοράασθαι.
τοῦ μὲν ὅσον τʼ ὄργυιαν ἐγὼν ἀπέκοψα παραστὰς
καὶ παρέθηχʼ ἑτάροισιν, ἀποξῦναι δʼ ἐκέλευσα·
οἱ δʼ ὁμαλὸν ποίησαν· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐθόωσα παραστὰς
ἄκρον, ἄφαρ δὲ λαβὼν ἐπυράκτεον ἐν πυρὶ κηλέῳ.
καὶ τὸ μὲν εὖ κατέθηκα κατακρύψας ὑπὸ κόπρῳ,
ἥ ῥα κατὰ σπείους κέχυτο μεγάλʼ ἤλιθα πολλή·
αὐτὰρ τοὺς ἄλλους κλήρῳ πεπαλάσθαι ἄνωγον,
ὅς τις τολμήσειεν ἐμοὶ σὺν μοχλὸν ἀείρας
τρῖψαι ἐν ὀφθαλμῷ, ὅτε τὸν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἱκάνοι.
οἱ δʼ ἔλαχον τοὺς ἄν κε καὶ ἤθελον αὐτὸς ἑλέσθαι,
τέσσαρες, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ πέμπτος μετὰ τοῖσιν ἐλέγμην.
ἑσπέριος δʼ ἦλθεν καλλίτριχα μῆλα νομεύων.
αὐτίκα δʼ εἰς εὐρὺ σπέος ἤλασε πίονα μῆλα
πάντα μάλʼ, οὐδέ τι λεῖπε βαθείης ἔκτοθεν αὐλῆς,
ἤ τι ὀισάμενος, ἢ καὶ θεὸς ὣς ἐκέλευσεν.
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτʼ ἐπέθηκε θυρεὸν μέγαν ὑψόσʼ ἀείρας,
ἑζόμενος δʼ ἤμελγεν ὄις καὶ μηκάδας αἶγας,
πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, καὶ ὑπʼ ἔμβρυον ἧκεν ἑκάστῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ σπεῦσε πονησάμενος τὰ ἃ ἔργα,
σὺν δʼ ὅ γε δὴ αὖτε δύω μάρψας ὡπλίσσατο δόρπον.
καὶ τότʼ ἐγὼ Κύκλωπα προσηύδων ἄγχι παραστάς,
κισσύβιον μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχων μέλανος οἴνοιο·
Κύκλωψ, τῆ, πίε οἶνον, ἐπεὶ φάγες ἀνδρόμεα κρέα,
ὄφρʼ εἰδῇς οἷόν τι ποτὸν τόδε νηῦς ἐκεκεύθει
ἡμετέρη. σοὶ δʼ αὖ λοιβὴν φέρον, εἴ μʼ ἐλεήσας
οἴκαδε πέμψειας· σὺ δὲ μαίνεαι οὐκέτʼ ἀνεκτῶς.
σχέτλιε, πῶς κέν τίς σε καὶ ὕστερον ἄλλος ἵκοιτο
ἀνθρώπων πολέων, ἐπεὶ οὐ κατὰ μοῖραν ἔρεξας;
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δʼ ἔδεκτο καὶ ἔκπιεν· ἥσατο δʼ αἰνῶς
ἡδὺ ποτὸν πίνων καὶ μʼ ᾔτεε δεύτερον αὖτις·
δός μοι ἔτι πρόφρων, καί μοι τεὸν οὔνομα εἰπὲ
αὐτίκα νῦν, ἵνα τοι δῶ ξείνιον, ᾧ κε σὺ χαίρῃς·
καὶ γὰρ Κυκλώπεσσι φέρει ζείδωρος ἄρουρα
οἶνον ἐριστάφυλον, καί σφιν Διὸς ὄμβρος ἀέξει·
ἀλλὰ τόδʼ ἀμβροσίης καὶ νέκταρός ἐστιν ἀπορρώξ.
ὣς φάτʼ, ἀτάρ οἱ αὖτις ἐγὼ πόρον αἴθοπα οἶνον.
τρὶς μὲν ἔδωκα φέρων, τρὶς δʼ ἔκπιεν ἀφραδίῃσιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Κύκλωπα περὶ φρένας ἤλυθεν οἶνος,
καὶ τότε δή μιν ἔπεσσι προσηύδων μειλιχίοισι·
Κύκλωψ, εἰρωτᾷς μʼ ὄνομα κλυτόν, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ τοι
ἐξερέω· σὺ δέ μοι δὸς ξείνιον, ὥς περ ὑπέστης.
Οὖτις ἐμοί γʼ ὄνομα· Οὖτιν δέ με κικλήσκουσι
μήτηρ ἠδὲ πατὴρ ἠδʼ ἄλλοι πάντες ἑταῖροι.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο νηλέι θυμῷ·
Οὖτιν ἐγὼ πύματον ἔδομαι μετὰ οἷς ἑτάροισιν,
τοὺς δʼ ἄλλους πρόσθεν· τὸ δέ τοι ξεινήιον ἔσται.
ἦ καὶ ἀνακλινθεὶς πέσεν ὕπτιος, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
κεῖτʼ ἀποδοχμώσας παχὺν αὐχένα, κὰδ δέ μιν ὕπνος
ᾕρει πανδαμάτωρ· φάρυγος δʼ ἐξέσσυτο οἶνος
ψωμοί τʼ ἀνδρόμεοι· ὁ δʼ ἐρεύγετο οἰνοβαρείων.
καὶ τότʼ ἐγὼ τὸν μοχλὸν ὑπὸ σποδοῦ ἤλασα πολλῆς,
ἧος θερμαίνοιτο· ἔπεσσι δὲ πάντας ἑταίρους
θάρσυνον, μή τίς μοι ὑποδείσας ἀναδύη.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τάχʼ ὁ μοχλὸς ἐλάινος ἐν πυρὶ μέλλεν
ἅψεσθαι, χλωρός περ ἐών, διεφαίνετο δʼ αἰνῶς,
καὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἆσσον φέρον ἐκ πυρός, ἀμφὶ δʼ ἑταῖροι
ἵσταντʼ· αὐτὰρ θάρσος ἐνέπνευσεν μέγα δαίμων.
οἱ μὲν μοχλὸν ἑλόντες ἐλάινον, ὀξὺν ἐπʼ ἄκρῳ,
ὀφθαλμῷ ἐνέρεισαν· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐφύπερθεν ἐρεισθεὶς
δίνεον, ὡς ὅτε τις τρυπῷ δόρυ νήιον ἀνὴρ
τρυπάνῳ, οἱ δέ τʼ ἔνερθεν ὑποσσείουσιν ἱμάντι
ἁψάμενοι ἑκάτερθε, τὸ δὲ τρέχει ἐμμενὲς αἰεί.
ὣς τοῦ ἐν ὀφθαλμῷ πυριήκεα μοχλὸν ἑλόντες
δινέομεν, τὸν δʼ αἷμα περίρρεε θερμὸν ἐόντα.
πάντα δέ οἱ βλέφαρʼ ἀμφὶ καὶ ὀφρύας εὗσεν ἀυτμὴ
γλήνης καιομένης, σφαραγεῦντο δέ οἱ πυρὶ ῥίζαι.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἀνὴρ χαλκεὺς πέλεκυν μέγαν ἠὲ σκέπαρνον
εἰν ὕδατι ψυχρῷ βάπτῃ μεγάλα ἰάχοντα
φαρμάσσων· τὸ γὰρ αὖτε σιδήρου γε κράτος ἐστίν
ὣς τοῦ σίζʼ ὀφθαλμὸς ἐλαϊνέῳ περὶ μοχλῷ.
σμερδαλέον δὲ μέγʼ ᾤμωξεν, περὶ δʼ ἴαχε πέτρη,
ἡμεῖς δὲ δείσαντες ἀπεσσύμεθʼ· αὐτὰρ ὁ μοχλὸν
ἐξέρυσʼ ὀφθαλμοῖο πεφυρμένον αἵματι πολλῷ.
τὸν μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἔρριψεν ἀπὸ ἕο χερσὶν ἀλύων,
αὐτὰρ ὁ Κύκλωπας μεγάλʼ ἤπυεν, οἵ ῥά μιν ἀμφὶς
ᾤκεον ἐν σπήεσσι διʼ ἄκριας ἠνεμοέσσας.
οἱ δὲ βοῆς ἀίοντες ἐφοίτων ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος,
ἱστάμενοι δʼ εἴροντο περὶ σπέος ὅττι ἑ κήδοι·
τίπτε τόσον, Πολύφημʼ, ἀρημένος ὧδʼ ἐβόησας
νύκτα διʼ ἀμβροσίην καὶ ἀύπνους ἄμμε τίθησθα;
ἦ μή τίς σευ μῆλα βροτῶν ἀέκοντος ἐλαύνει;
ἦ μή τίς σʼ αὐτὸν κτείνει δόλῳ ἠὲ βίηφιν;
τοὺς δʼ αὖτʼ ἐξ ἄντρου προσέφη κρατερὸς Πολύφημος·
ὦ φίλοι, Οὖτίς με κτείνει δόλῳ οὐδὲ βίηφιν.
οἱ δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενοι ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευον·
εἰ μὲν δὴ μή τίς σε βιάζεται οἶον ἐόντα,
νοῦσον γʼ οὔ πως ἔστι Διὸς μεγάλου ἀλέασθαι,
ἀλλὰ σύ γʼ εὔχεο πατρὶ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν ἀπιόντες, ἐμὸν δʼ ἐγέλασσε φίλον κῆρ,
ὡς ὄνομʼ ἐξαπάτησεν ἐμὸν καὶ μῆτις ἀμύμων.
Κύκλωψ δὲ στενάχων τε καὶ ὠδίνων ὀδύνῃσι
χερσὶ ψηλαφόων ἀπὸ μὲν λίθον εἷλε θυράων,
αὐτὸς δʼ εἰνὶ θύρῃσι καθέζετο χεῖρε πετάσσας,
εἴ τινά που μετʼ ὄεσσι λάβοι στείχοντα θύραζε·
οὕτω γάρ πού μʼ ἤλπετʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ νήπιον εἶναι.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ βούλευον, ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένοιτο,
εἴ τινʼ ἑταίροισιν θανάτου λύσιν ἠδʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ
εὑροίμην· πάντας δὲ δόλους καὶ μῆτιν ὕφαινον
ὥς τε περὶ ψυχῆς· μέγα γὰρ κακὸν ἐγγύθεν ἦεν.
ἥδε δέ μοι κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή.
ἄρσενες ὄιες ἦσαν ἐυτρεφέες, δασύμαλλοι,
καλοί τε μεγάλοι τε, ἰοδνεφὲς εἶρος ἔχοντες·
τοὺς ἀκέων συνέεργον ἐυστρεφέεσσι λύγοισιν,
τῇς ἔπι Κύκλωψ εὗδε πέλωρ, ἀθεμίστια εἰδώς,
σύντρεις αἰνύμενος· ὁ μὲν ἐν μέσῳ ἄνδρα φέρεσκε,
τὼ δʼ ἑτέρω ἑκάτερθεν ἴτην σώοντες ἑταίρους.
τρεῖς δὲ ἕκαστον φῶτʼ ὄιες φέρον· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε—
ἀρνειὸς γὰρ ἔην μήλων ὄχʼ ἄριστος ἁπάντων,
τοῦ κατὰ νῶτα λαβών, λασίην ὑπὸ γαστέρʼ ἐλυσθεὶς
κείμην· αὐτὰρ χερσὶν ἀώτου θεσπεσίοιο
νωλεμέως στρεφθεὶς ἐχόμην τετληότι θυμῷ.
ὣς τότε μὲν στενάχοντες ἐμείναμεν Ἠῶ δῖαν.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
καὶ τότʼ ἔπειτα νομόνδʼ ἐξέσσυτο ἄρσενα μῆλα,
θήλειαι δὲ μέμηκον ἀνήμελκτοι περὶ σηκούς·
οὔθατα γὰρ σφαραγεῦντο. ἄναξ δʼ ὀδύνῃσι κακῇσι
τειρόμενος πάντων ὀίων ἐπεμαίετο νῶτα
ὀρθῶν ἑσταότων· τὸ δὲ νήπιος οὐκ ἐνόησεν,
ὥς οἱ ὑπʼ εἰροπόκων ὀίων στέρνοισι δέδεντο.
ὕστατος ἀρνειὸς μήλων ἔστειχε θύραζε
λάχνῳ στεινόμενος καὶ ἐμοὶ πυκινὰ φρονέοντι.
τὸν δʼ ἐπιμασσάμενος προσέφη κρατερὸς Πολύφημος·
κριὲ πέπον, τί μοι ὧδε διὰ σπέος ἔσσυο μήλων
ὕστατος; οὔ τι πάρος γε λελειμμένος ἔρχεαι οἰῶν,
ἀλλὰ πολὺ πρῶτος νέμεαι τέρενʼ ἄνθεα ποίης
μακρὰ βιβάς, πρῶτος δὲ ῥοὰς ποταμῶν ἀφικάνεις,
πρῶτος δὲ σταθμόνδε λιλαίεαι ἀπονέεσθαι
ἑσπέριος· νῦν αὖτε πανύστατος. ἦ σύ γʼ ἄνακτος
ὀφθαλμὸν ποθέεις, τὸν ἀνὴρ κακὸς ἐξαλάωσε
σὺν λυγροῖς ἑτάροισι δαμασσάμενος φρένας οἴνῳ,
Οὖτις, ὃν οὔ πώ φημι πεφυγμένον εἶναι ὄλεθρον.
εἰ δὴ ὁμοφρονέοις ποτιφωνήεις τε γένοιο
εἰπεῖν ὅππῃ κεῖνος ἐμὸν μένος ἠλασκάζει·
τῷ κέ οἱ ἐγκέφαλός γε διὰ σπέος ἄλλυδις ἄλλῃ
θεινομένου ῥαίοιτο πρὸς οὔδεϊ, κὰδ δέ κʼ ἐμὸν κῆρ
λωφήσειε κακῶν, τά μοι οὐτιδανὸς πόρεν Οὖτις.
ὣς εἰπὼν τὸν κριὸν ἀπὸ ἕο πέμπε θύραζε.
ἐλθόντες δʼ ἠβαιὸν ἀπὸ σπείους τε καὶ αὐλῆς
πρῶτος ὑπʼ ἀρνειοῦ λυόμην, ὑπέλυσα δʼ ἑταίρους.
καρπαλίμως δὲ τὰ μῆλα ταναύποδα, πίονα δημῷ,
πολλὰ περιτροπέοντες ἐλαύνομεν, ὄφρʼ ἐπὶ νῆα
ἱκόμεθʼ. ἀσπάσιοι δὲ φίλοις ἑτάροισι φάνημεν,
οἳ φύγομεν θάνατον, τοὺς δὲ στενάχοντο γοῶντες.
ἀλλʼ ἐγὼ οὐκ εἴων, ἀνὰ δʼ ὀφρύσι νεῦον ἑκάστῳ,
κλαίειν, ἀλλʼ ἐκέλευσα θοῶς καλλίτριχα μῆλα
πόλλʼ ἐν νηὶ βαλόντας ἐπιπλεῖν ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.
οἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,
ἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε τόσσον ἀπῆν, ὅσσον τε γέγωνε βοήσας,
καὶ τότʼ ἐγὼ Κύκλωπα προσηύδων κερτομίοισι·
Κύκλωψ, οὐκ ἄρʼ ἔμελλες ἀνάλκιδος ἀνδρὸς ἑταίρους
ἔδμεναι ἐν σπῆι γλαφυρῷ κρατερῆφι βίηφι.
καὶ λίην σέ γʼ ἔμελλε κιχήσεσθαι κακὰ ἔργα,
σχέτλιʼ, ἐπεὶ ξείνους οὐχ ἅζεο σῷ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
ἐσθέμεναι· τῷ σε Ζεὺς τίσατο καὶ θεοὶ ἄλλοι.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα χολώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,
ἧκε δʼ ἀπορρήξας κορυφὴν ὄρεος μεγάλοιο,
κὰδ δʼ ἔβαλε προπάροιθε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο
τυτθόν, ἐδεύησεν δʼ οἰήιον ἄκρον ἱκέσθαι,
ἐκλύσθη δὲ θάλασσα κατερχομένης ὑπὸ πέτρης·
τὴν δʼ αἶψʼ ἤπειρόνδε παλιρρόθιον φέρε κῦμα,
πλημυρὶς ἐκ πόντοιο, θέμωσε δὲ χέρσον ἱκέσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ χείρεσσι λαβὼν περιμήκεα κοντὸν
ὦσα παρέξ, ἑτάροισι δʼ ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσα
ἐμβαλέειν κώπῃς, ἵνʼ ὑπὲκ κακότητα φύγοιμεν,
κρατὶ κατανεύων· οἱ δὲ προπεσόντες ἔρεσσον.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ δὶς τόσσον ἅλα πρήσσοντες ἀπῆμεν,
καὶ τότε δὴ Κύκλωπα προσηύδων· ἀμφὶ δʼ ἑταῖροι
μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσιν ἐρήτυον ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος·
σχέτλιε, τίπτʼ ἐθέλεις ἐρεθιζέμεν ἄγριον ἄνδρα;
ὃς καὶ νῦν πόντονδε βαλὼν βέλος ἤγαγε νῆα
αὖτις ἐς ἤπειρον, καὶ δὴ φάμεν αὐτόθʼ ὀλέσθαι.
εἰ δὲ φθεγξαμένου τευ ἢ αὐδήσαντος ἄκουσε,
σύν κεν ἄραξʼ ἡμέων κεφαλὰς καὶ νήια δοῦρα
μαρμάρῳ ὀκριόεντι βαλών· τόσσον γὰρ ἵησιν.
ὣς φάσαν, ἀλλʼ οὐ πεῖθον ἐμὸν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν,
ἀλλά μιν ἄψορρον προσέφην κεκοτηότι θυμῷ·
Κύκλωψ, αἴ κέν τίς σε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων
ὀφθαλμοῦ εἴρηται ἀεικελίην ἀλαωτύν,
φάσθαι Ὀδυσσῆα πτολιπόρθιον ἐξαλαῶσαι,
υἱὸν Λαέρτεω, Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκίʼ ἔχοντα.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ οἰμώξας ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δή με παλαίφατα θέσφαθʼ ἱκάνει.
ἔσκε τις ἐνθάδε μάντις ἀνὴρ ἠύς τε μέγας τε,
Τήλεμος Εὐρυμίδης, ὃς μαντοσύνῃ ἐκέκαστο
καὶ μαντευόμενος κατεγήρα Κυκλώπεσσιν·
ὅς μοι ἔφη τάδε πάντα τελευτήσεσθαι ὀπίσσω,
χειρῶν ἐξ Ὀδυσῆος ἁμαρτήσεσθαι ὀπωπῆς.
ἀλλʼ αἰεί τινα φῶτα μέγαν καὶ καλὸν ἐδέγμην
ἐνθάδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι, μεγάλην ἐπιειμένον ἀλκήν·
νῦν δέ μʼ ἐὼν ὀλίγος τε καὶ οὐτιδανὸς καὶ ἄκικυς
ὀφθαλμοῦ ἀλάωσεν, ἐπεί μʼ ἐδαμάσσατο οἴνῳ.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε δεῦρʼ, Ὀδυσεῦ, ἵνα τοι πὰρ ξείνια θείω
πομπήν τʼ ὀτρύνω δόμεναι κλυτὸν ἐννοσίγαιον·
τοῦ γὰρ ἐγὼ πάϊς εἰμί, πατὴρ δʼ ἐμὸς εὔχεται εἶναι.
αὐτὸς δʼ, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσʼ, ἰήσεται, οὐδέ τις ἄλλος
οὔτε θεῶν μακάρων οὔτε θνητῶν ἀνθρώπων.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
αἲ γὰρ δὴ ψυχῆς τε καὶ αἰῶνός σε δυναίμην
εὖνιν ποιήσας πέμψαι δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω,
ὡς οὐκ ὀφθαλμόν γʼ ἰήσεται οὐδʼ ἐνοσίχθων.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι
εὔχετο χεῖρʼ ὀρέγων εἰς οὐρανὸν ἀστερόεντα·
κλῦθι, Ποσείδαον γαιήοχε κυανοχαῖτα,
εἰ ἐτεόν γε σός εἰμι, πατὴρ δʼ ἐμὸς εὔχεαι εἶναι,
δὸς μὴ Ὀδυσσῆα πτολιπόρθιον οἴκαδʼ ἱκέσθαι
υἱὸν Λαέρτεω, Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκίʼ ἔχοντα.
ἀλλʼ εἴ οἱ μοῖρʼ ἐστὶ φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐυκτίμενον καὶ ἑὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
ὀψὲ κακῶς ἔλθοι, ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους,
νηὸς ἐπʼ ἀλλοτρίης, εὕροι δʼ ἐν πήματα οἴκῳ.
ὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος, τοῦ δʼ ἔκλυε κυανοχαίτης.
αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ ἐξαῦτις πολὺ μείζονα λᾶαν ἀείρας
ἧκʼ ἐπιδινήσας, ἐπέρεισε δὲ ἶνʼ ἀπέλεθρον,
κὰδʼ δʼ ἔβαλεν μετόπισθε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο
τυτθόν, ἐδεύησεν δʼ οἰήιον ἄκρον ἱκέσθαι.
ἐκλύσθη δὲ θάλασσα κατερχομένης ὑπὸ πέτρης·
τὴν δὲ πρόσω φέρε κῦμα, θέμωσε δὲ χέρσον ἱκέσθαι.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἀφικόμεθʼ, ἔνθα περ ἄλλαι
νῆες ἐύσσελμοι μένον ἁθρόαι, ἀμφὶ δʼ ἑταῖροι
ἥατʼ ὀδυρόμενοι, ἡμέας ποτιδέγμενοι αἰεί,
νῆα μὲν ἔνθʼ ἐλθόντες ἐκέλσαμεν ἐν ψαμάθοισιν,
ἐκ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βῆμεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
μῆλα δὲ Κύκλωπος γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑλόντες
δασσάμεθʼ, ὡς μή τίς μοι ἀτεμβόμενος κίοι ἴσης.
ἀρνειὸν δʼ ἐμοὶ οἴῳ ἐυκνήμιδες ἑταῖροι
μήλων δαιομένων δόσαν ἔξοχα· τὸν δʼ ἐπὶ θινὶ
Ζηνὶ κελαινεφέι Κρονίδῃ, ὃς πᾶσιν ἀνάσσει,
ῥέξας μηρίʼ ἔκαιον· ὁ δʼ οὐκ ἐμπάζετο ἱρῶν,
ἀλλʼ ὅ γε μερμήριξεν ὅπως ἀπολοίατο πᾶσαι
νῆες ἐύσσελμοι καὶ ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι.
ὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα
ἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·
ἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθε,
δὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
δὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσα
αὐτούς τʼ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι·
οἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,
ἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ,
ἄσμενοι ἐκ θανάτοιο, φίλους ὀλέσαντες ἑταίρους.

### Book 10

Αἰολίην δʼ ἐς νῆσον ἀφικόμεθʼ· ἔνθα δʼ ἔναιεν
Αἴολος Ἱπποτάδης, φίλος ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν,
πλωτῇ ἐνὶ νήσῳ· πᾶσαν δέ τέ μιν πέρι τεῖχος
χάλκεον ἄρρηκτον, λισσὴ δʼ ἀναδέδρομε πέτρη.
τοῦ καὶ δώδεκα παῖδες ἐνὶ μεγάροις γεγάασιν,
ἓξ μὲν θυγατέρες, ἓξ δʼ υἱέες ἡβώοντες·
ἔνθʼ ὅ γε θυγατέρας πόρεν υἱάσιν εἶναι ἀκοίτις.
οἱ δʼ αἰεὶ παρὰ πατρὶ φίλῳ καὶ μητέρι κεδνῇ
δαίνυνται, παρὰ δέ σφιν ὀνείατα μυρία κεῖται,
κνισῆεν δέ τε δῶμα περιστεναχίζεται αὐλῇ
ἤματα· νύκτας δʼ αὖτε παρʼ αἰδοίῃς ἀλόχοισιν
εὕδουσʼ ἔν τε τάπησι καὶ ἐν τρητοῖσι λέχεσσι.
καὶ μὲν τῶν ἱκόμεσθα πόλιν καὶ δώματα καλά.
μῆνα δὲ πάντα φίλει με καὶ ἐξερέεινεν ἕκαστα,
Ἴλιον Ἀργείων τε νέας καὶ νόστον Ἀχαιῶν·
καὶ μὲν ἐγὼ τῷ πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν κατέλεξα.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ καὶ ἐγὼν ὁδὸν ᾔτεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον
πεμπέμεν, οὐδέ τι κεῖνος ἀνήνατο, τεῦχε δὲ πομπήν.
δῶκε δέ μʼ ἐκδείρας ἀσκὸν βοὸς ἐννεώροιο,
ἔνθα δὲ βυκτάων ἀνέμων κατέδησε κέλευθα·
κεῖνον γὰρ ταμίην ἀνέμων ποίησε Κρονίων,
ἠμὲν παυέμεναι ἠδʼ ὀρνύμεν, ὅν κʼ ἐθέλῃσι.
νηὶ δʼ ἐνὶ γλαφυρῇ κατέδει μέρμιθι φαεινῇ
ἀργυρέῃ, ἵνα μή τι παραπνεύσῃ ὀλίγον περ·
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ πνοιὴν Ζεφύρου προέηκεν ἀῆναι,
ὄφρα φέροι νῆάς τε καὶ αὐτούς· οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔμελλεν
ἐκτελέειν· αὐτῶν γὰρ ἀπωλόμεθʼ ἀφραδίῃσιν.
ἐννῆμαρ μὲν ὁμῶς πλέομεν νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ,
τῇ δεκάτῃ δʼ ἤδη ἀνεφαίνετο πατρὶς ἄρουρα,
καὶ δὴ πυρπολέοντας ἐλεύσσομεν ἐγγὺς ἐόντες·
ἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἐπήλυθε κεκμηῶτα,
αἰεὶ γὰρ πόδα νηὸς ἐνώμων, οὐδέ τῳ ἄλλῳ
δῶχʼ ἑτάρων, ἵνα θᾶσσον ἱκοίμεθα πατρίδα γαῖαν·
οἱ δʼ ἕταροι ἐπέεσσι πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
καί μʼ ἔφασαν χρυσόν τε καὶ ἄργυρον οἴκαδʼ ἄγεσθαι
δῶρα παρʼ Αἰόλου μεγαλήτορος Ἱπποτάδαο.
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·
ὦ πόποι, ὡς ὅδε πᾶσι φίλος καὶ τίμιός ἐστιν
ἀνθρώποις, ὅτεών τε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἵκηται.
πολλὰ μὲν ἐκ Τροίης ἄγεται κειμήλια καλὰ
ληίδος, ἡμεῖς δʼ αὖτε ὁμὴν ὁδὸν ἐκτελέσαντες
οἴκαδε νισσόμεθα κενεὰς σὺν χεῖρας ἔχοντες·
καὶ νῦν οἱ τάδʼ ἔδωκε χαριζόμενος φιλότητι
Αἴολος. ἀλλʼ ἄγε θᾶσσον ἰδώμεθα ὅττι τάδʼ ἐστίν,
ὅσσος τις χρυσός τε καὶ ἄργυρος ἀσκῷ ἔνεστιν.
ὣς ἔφασαν, βουλὴ δὲ κακὴ νίκησεν ἑταίρων·
ἀσκὸν μὲν λῦσαν, ἄνεμοι δʼ ἐκ πάντες ὄρουσαν.
τοὺς δʼ αἶψʼ ἁρπάξασα φέρεν πόντονδε θύελλα
κλαίοντας, γαίης ἄπο πατρίδος. αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε
ἐγρόμενος κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονα μερμήριξα,
ἠὲ πεσὼν ἐκ νηὸς ἀποφθίμην ἐνὶ πόντῳ,
ἦ ἀκέων τλαίην καὶ ἔτι ζωοῖσι μετείην.
ἀλλʼ ἔτλην καὶ ἔμεινα, καλυψάμενος δʼ ἐνὶ νηὶ
κείμην. αἱ δʼ ἐφέροντο κακῇ ἀνέμοιο θυέλλῃ
αὖτις ἐπʼ Αἰολίην νῆσον, στενάχοντο δʼ ἑταῖροι.
ἔνθα δʼ ἐπʼ ἠπείρου βῆμεν καὶ ἀφυσσάμεθʼ ὕδωρ,
αἶψα δὲ δεῖπνον ἕλοντο θοῇς παρὰ νηυσὶν ἑταῖροι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σίτοιό τʼ ἐπασσάμεθʼ ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,
δὴ τότʼ ἐγὼ κήρυκά τʼ ὀπασσάμενος καὶ ἑταῖρον
βῆν εἰς Αἰόλου κλυτὰ δώματα· τὸν δʼ ἐκίχανον
δαινύμενον παρὰ ᾗ τʼ ἀλόχῳ καὶ οἷσι τέκεσσιν.
ἐλθόντες δʼ ἐς δῶμα παρὰ σταθμοῖσιν ἐπʼ οὐδοῦ
ἑζόμεθʼ· οἱ δʼ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ἐθάμβεον ἔκ τʼ ἐρέοντο·
πῶς ἦλθες, Ὀδυσεῦ; τίς τοι κακὸς ἔχραε δαίμων;
ἦ μέν σʼ ἐνδυκέως ἀπεπέμπομεν, ὄφρʼ ἀφίκοιο
πατρίδα σὴν καὶ δῶμα καὶ εἴ πού τοι φίλον ἐστίν.
ὣς φάσαν, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ μετεφώνεον ἀχνύμενος κῆρ·
ἄασάν μʼ ἕταροί τε κακοὶ πρὸς τοῖσί τε ὕπνος
σχέτλιος. ἀλλʼ ἀκέσασθε, φίλοι· δύναμις γὰρ ἐν ὑμῖν.
ὣς ἐφάμην μαλακοῖσι καθαπτόμενος ἐπέεσσιν,
οἱ δʼ ἄνεῳ ἐγένοντο· πατὴρ δʼ ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·
ἔρρʼ ἐκ νήσου θᾶσσον, ἐλέγχιστε ζωόντων·
οὐ γάρ μοι θέμις ἐστὶ κομιζέμεν οὐδʼ ἀποπέμπειν
ἄνδρα τόν, ὅς κε θεοῖσιν ἀπέχθηται μακάρεσσιν·
ἔρρε, ἐπεὶ ἄρα θεοῖσιν ἀπεχθόμενος τόδʼ ἱκάνεις.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἀπέπεμπε δόμων βαρέα στενάχοντα.
ἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ.
τείρετο δʼ ἀνδρῶν θυμὸς ὑπʼ εἰρεσίης ἀλεγεινῆς
ἡμετέρῃ ματίῃ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι φαίνετο πομπή.
ἑξῆμαρ μὲν ὁμῶς πλέομεν νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ,
ἑβδομάτῃ δʼ ἱκόμεσθα Λάμου αἰπὺ πτολίεθρον,
Τηλέπυλον Λαιστρυγονίην, ὅθι ποιμένα ποιμὴν
ἠπύει εἰσελάων, ὁ δέ τʼ ἐξελάων ὑπακούει.
ἔνθα κʼ ἄυπνος ἀνὴρ δοιοὺς ἐξήρατο μισθούς,
τὸν μὲν βουκολέων, τὸν δʼ ἄργυφα μῆλα νομεύων·
ἐγγὺς γὰρ νυκτός τε καὶ ἤματός εἰσι κέλευθοι.
ἔνθʼ ἐπεὶ ἐς λιμένα κλυτὸν ἤλθομεν, ὃν πέρι πέτρη
ἠλίβατος τετύχηκε διαμπερὲς ἀμφοτέρωθεν,
ἀκταὶ δὲ προβλῆτες ἐναντίαι ἀλλήλῃσιν
ἐν στόματι προύχουσιν, ἀραιὴ δʼ εἴσοδός ἐστιν,
ἔνθʼ οἵ γʼ εἴσω πάντες ἔχον νέας ἀμφιελίσσας.
αἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἔντοσθεν λιμένος κοίλοιο δέδεντο
πλησίαι· οὐ μὲν γάρ ποτʼ ἀέξετο κῦμά γʼ ἐν αὐτῷ,
οὔτε μέγʼ οὔτʼ ὀλίγον, λευκὴ δʼ ἦν ἀμφὶ γαλήνη·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν οἶος σχέθον ἔξω νῆα μέλαιναν,
αὐτοῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῇ, πέτρης ἐκ πείσματα δήσας·
ἔστην δὲ σκοπιὴν ἐς παιπαλόεσσαν ἀνελθών.
ἔνθα μὲν οὔτε βοῶν οὔτʼ ἀνδρῶν φαίνετο ἔργα,
καπνὸν δʼ οἶον ὁρῶμεν ἀπὸ χθονὸς ἀίσσοντα.
δὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάρους προΐειν πεύθεσθαι ἰόντας,
οἵ τινες ἀνέρες εἶεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ σῖτον ἔδοντες,
ἄνδρε δύω κρίνας, τρίτατον κήρυχʼ ἅμʼ ὀπάσσας.
οἱ δʼ ἴσαν ἐκβάντες λείην ὁδόν, ᾗ περ ἄμαξαι
ἄστυδʼ ἀφʼ ὑψηλῶν ὀρέων καταγίνεον ὕλην,
κούρῃ δὲ ξύμβληντο πρὸ ἄστεος ὑδρευούσῃ,
θυγατέρʼ ἰφθίμῃ Λαιστρυγόνος Ἀντιφάταο.
ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐς κρήνην κατεβήσετο καλλιρέεθρον
Ἀρτακίην· ἔνθεν γὰρ ὕδωρ προτὶ ἄστυ φέρεσκον·
οἱ δὲ παριστάμενοι προσεφώνεον ἔκ τʼ ἐρέοντο
ὅς τις τῶνδʼ εἴη βασιλεὺς καὶ οἷσιν ἀνάσσοι·
ἡ δὲ μάλʼ αὐτίκα πατρὸς ἐπέφραδεν ὑψερεφὲς δῶ.
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ εἰσῆλθον κλυτὰ δώματα, τὴν δὲ γυναῖκα
εὗρον, ὅσην τʼ ὄρεος κορυφήν, κατὰ δʼ ἔστυγον αὐτήν.
ἡ δʼ αἶψʼ ἐξ ἀγορῆς ἐκάλει κλυτὸν Ἀντιφατῆα,
ὃν πόσιν, ὃς δὴ τοῖσιν ἐμήσατο λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον.
αὐτίχʼ ἕνα μάρψας ἑτάρων ὡπλίσσατο δεῖπνον·
τὼ δὲ δύʼ ἀίξαντε φυγῇ ἐπὶ νῆας ἱκέσθην.
αὐτὰρ ὁ τεῦχε βοὴν διὰ ἄστεος· οἱ δʼ ἀίοντες
φοίτων ἴφθιμοι Λαιστρυγόνες ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος,
μυρίοι, οὐκ ἄνδρεσσιν ἐοικότες, ἀλλὰ Γίγασιν.
οἵ ῥʼ ἀπὸ πετράων ἀνδραχθέσι χερμαδίοισιν
βάλλον· ἄφαρ δὲ κακὸς κόναβος κατὰ νῆας ὀρώρει
ἀνδρῶν τʼ ὀλλυμένων νηῶν θʼ ἅμα ἀγνυμενάων·
ἰχθῦς δʼ ὣς πείροντες ἀτερπέα δαῖτα φέροντο.
ὄφρʼ οἱ τοὺς ὄλεκον λιμένος πολυβενθέος ἐντός,
τόφρα δʼ ἐγὼ ξίφος ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ
τῷ ἀπὸ πείσματʼ ἔκοψα νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο.
αἶψα δʼ ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσα
ἐμβαλέειν κώπῃς, ἵνʼ ὑπὲκ κακότητα φύγοιμεν·
οἱ δʼ ἅλα πάντες ἀνέρριψαν, δείσαντες ὄλεθρον.
ἀσπασίως δʼ ἐς πόντον ἐπηρεφέας φύγε πέτρας
νηῦς ἐμή· αὐτὰρ αἱ ἄλλαι ἀολλέες αὐτόθʼ ὄλοντο.
ἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ,
ἄσμενοι ἐκ θανάτοιο, φίλους ὀλέσαντες ἑταίρους.
Αἰαίην δʼ ἐς νῆσον ἀφικόμεθʼ· ἔνθα δʼ ἔναιε
Κίρκη ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα,
αὐτοκασιγνήτη ὀλοόφρονος Αἰήταο·
ἄμφω δʼ ἐκγεγάτην φαεσιμβρότου Ἠελίοιο
μητρός τʼ ἐκ Πέρσης, τὴν Ὠκεανὸς τέκε παῖδα.
ἔνθα δʼ ἐπʼ ἀκτῆς νηὶ κατηγαγόμεσθα σιωπῇ
ναύλοχον ἐς λιμένα, καί τις θεὸς ἡγεμόνευεν.
ἔνθα τότʼ ἐκβάντες δύο τʼ ἤματα καὶ δύο νύκτας
κείμεθʼ ὁμοῦ καμάτῳ τε καὶ ἄλγεσι θυμὸν ἔδοντες.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τρίτον ἦμαρ ἐυπλόκαμος τέλεσʼ Ἠώς,
καὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἐμὸν ἔγχος ἑλὼν καὶ φάσγανον ὀξὺ
καρπαλίμως παρὰ νηὸς ἀνήιον ἐς περιωπήν,
εἴ πως ἔργα ἴδοιμι βροτῶν ἐνοπήν τε πυθοίμην.
ἔστην δὲ σκοπιὴν ἐς παιπαλόεσσαν ἀνελθών,
καί μοι ἐείσατο καπνὸς ἀπὸ χθονὸς εὐρυοδείης,
Κίρκης ἐν μεγάροισι, διὰ δρυμὰ πυκνὰ καὶ ὕλην.
μερμήριξα δʼ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμὸν
ἐλθεῖν ἠδὲ πυθέσθαι, ἐπεὶ ἴδον αἴθοπα καπνόν.
ὧδε δέ μοι φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,
πρῶτʼ ἐλθόντʼ ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης
δεῖπνον ἑταίροισιν δόμεναι προέμεν τε πυθέσθαι.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ σχεδὸν ἦα κιὼν νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης,
καὶ τότε τίς με θεῶν ὀλοφύρατο μοῦνον ἐόντα,
ὅς ῥά μοι ὑψίκερων ἔλαφον μέγαν εἰς ὁδὸν αὐτὴν
ἧκεν. ὁ μὲν ποταμόνδε κατήιεν ἐκ νομοῦ ὕλης
πιόμενος· δὴ γάρ μιν ἔχεν μένος ἠελίοιο.
τὸν δʼ ἐγὼ ἐκβαίνοντα κατʼ ἄκνηστιν μέσα νῶτα
πλῆξα· τὸ δʼ ἀντικρὺ δόρυ χάλκεον ἐξεπέρησε,
κὰδ δʼ ἔπεσʼ ἐν κονίῃσι μακών, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔπτατο θυμός.
τῷ δʼ ἐγὼ ἐμβαίνων δόρυ χάλκεον ἐξ ὠτειλῆς
εἰρυσάμην· τὸ μὲν αὖθι κατακλίνας ἐπὶ γαίῃ
εἴασʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σπασάμην ῥῶπάς τε λύγους τε,
πεῖσμα δʼ, ὅσον τʼ ὄργυιαν, ἐυστρεφὲς ἀμφοτέρωθεν
πλεξάμενος συνέδησα πόδας δεινοῖο πελώρου,
βῆν δὲ καταλοφάδεια φέρων ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν
ἔγχει ἐρειδόμενος, ἐπεὶ οὔ πως ἦεν ἐπʼ ὤμου
χειρὶ φέρειν ἑτέρῃ· μάλα γὰρ μέγα θηρίον ἦεν.
κὰδʼ δʼ ἔβαλον προπάροιθε νεός, ἀνέγειρα δʼ ἑταίρους
μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι παρασταδὸν ἄνδρα ἕκαστον·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐ γάρ πω καταδυσόμεθʼ ἀχνύμενοί περ
εἰς Ἀίδαο δόμους, πρὶν μόρσιμον ἦμαρ ἐπέλθῃ·
ἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ, ὄφρʼ ἐν νηὶ θοῇ βρῶσίς τε πόσις τε,
μνησόμεθα βρώμης, μηδὲ τρυχώμεθα λιμῷ.
ὣς ἐφάμην, οἱ δʼ ὦκα ἐμοῖς ἐπέεσσι πίθοντο,
ἐκ δὲ καλυψάμενοι παρὰ θῖνʼ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο
θηήσαντʼ ἔλαφον· μάλα γὰρ μέγα θηρίον ἦεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τάρπησαν ὁρώμενοι ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
χεῖρας νιψάμενοι τεύχοντʼ ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα.
ὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα
ἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·
ἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθε,
δὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
καὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἀγορὴν θέμενος μετὰ πᾶσιν ἔειπον·
κέκλυτέ μευ μύθων, κακά περ πάσχοντες ἑταῖροι·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐ γάρ τʼ ἴδμεν, ὅπῃ ζόφος οὐδʼ ὅπῃ ἠώς,
οὐδʼ ὅπῃ ἠέλιος φαεσίμβροτος εἶσʼ ὑπὸ γαῖαν,
οὐδʼ ὅπῃ ἀννεῖται· ἀλλὰ φραζώμεθα θᾶσσον
εἴ τις ἔτʼ ἔσται μῆτις. ἐγὼ δʼ οὐκ οἴομαι εἶναι.
εἶδον γὰρ σκοπιὴν ἐς παιπαλόεσσαν ἀνελθὼν
νῆσον, τὴν πέρι πόντος ἀπείριτος ἐστεφάνωται·
αὐτὴ δὲ χθαμαλὴ κεῖται· καπνὸν δʼ ἐνὶ μέσσῃ
ἔδρακον ὀφθαλμοῖσι διὰ δρυμὰ πυκνὰ καὶ ὕλην.
ὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δὲ κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ
μνησαμένοις ἔργων Λαιστρυγόνος Ἀντιφάταο
Κύκλωπός τε βίης μεγαλήτορος, ἀνδροφάγοιο.
κλαῖον δὲ λιγέως θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες·
ἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ τις πρῆξις ἐγίγνετο μυρομένοισιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ δίχα πάντας ἐυκνήμιδας ἑταίρους
ἠρίθμεον, ἀρχὸν δὲ μετʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ὄπασσα·
τῶν μὲν ἐγὼν ἦρχον, τῶν δʼ Εὐρύλοχος θεοειδής.
κλήρους δʼ ἐν κυνέῃ χαλκήρεϊ πάλλομεν ὦκα·
ἐκ δʼ ἔθορε κλῆρος μεγαλήτορος Εὐρυλόχοιο.
βῆ δʼ ἰέναι, ἅμα τῷ γε δύω καὶ εἴκοσʼ ἑταῖροι
κλαίοντες· κατὰ δʼ ἄμμε λίπον γοόωντας ὄπισθεν.
εὗρον δʼ ἐν βήσσῃσι τετυγμένα δώματα Κίρκης
ξεστοῖσιν λάεσσι, περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ·
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν λύκοι ἦσαν ὀρέστεροι ἠδὲ λέοντες,
τοὺς αὐτὴ κατέθελξεν, ἐπεὶ κακὰ φάρμακʼ ἔδωκεν.
οὐδʼ οἵ γʼ ὡρμήθησαν ἐπʼ ἀνδράσιν, ἀλλʼ ἄρα τοί γε
οὐρῇσιν μακρῇσι περισσαίνοντες ἀνέσταν.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἀμφὶ ἄνακτα κύνες δαίτηθεν ἰόντα
σαίνωσʼ, αἰεὶ γάρ τε φέρει μειλίγματα θυμοῦ,
ὣς τοὺς ἀμφὶ λύκοι κρατερώνυχες ἠδὲ λέοντες
σαῖνον· τοὶ δʼ ἔδεισαν, ἐπεὶ ἴδον αἰνὰ πέλωρα.
ἔσταν δʼ ἐν προθύροισι θεᾶς καλλιπλοκάμοιο,
Κίρκης δʼ ἔνδον ἄκουον ἀειδούσης ὀπὶ καλῇ,
ἱστὸν ἐποιχομένης μέγαν ἄμβροτον, οἷα θεάων
λεπτά τε καὶ χαρίεντα καὶ ἀγλαὰ ἔργα πέλονται.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε Πολίτης ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν,
ὅς μοι κήδιστος ἑτάρων ἦν κεδνότατός τε·
ὦ φίλοι, ἔνδον γάρ τις ἐποιχομένη μέγαν ἱστὸν
καλὸν ἀοιδιάει, δάπεδον δʼ ἅπαν ἀμφιμέμυκεν,
ἢ θεὸς ἠὲ γυνή· ἀλλὰ φθεγγώμεθα θᾶσσον.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, τοὶ δὲ φθέγγοντο καλεῦντες.
ἡ δʼ αἶψʼ ἐξελθοῦσα θύρας ὤιξε φαεινὰς
καὶ κάλει· οἱ δʼ ἅμα πάντες ἀιδρείῃσιν ἕποντο·
Εὐρύλοχος δʼ ὑπέμεινεν, ὀισάμενος δόλον εἶναι.
εἷσεν δʼ εἰσαγαγοῦσα κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε,
ἐν δέ σφιν τυρόν τε καὶ ἄλφιτα καὶ μέλι χλωρὸν
οἴνῳ Πραμνείῳ ἐκύκα· ἀνέμισγε δὲ σίτῳ
φάρμακα λύγρʼ, ἵνα πάγχυ λαθοίατο πατρίδος αἴης.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δῶκέν τε καὶ ἔκπιον, αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα
ῥάβδῳ πεπληγυῖα κατὰ συφεοῖσιν ἐέργνυ.
οἱ δὲ συῶν μὲν ἔχον κεφαλὰς φωνήν τε τρίχας τε
καὶ δέμας, αὐτὰρ νοῦς ἦν ἔμπεδος, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ.
ὣς οἱ μὲν κλαίοντες ἐέρχατο, τοῖσι δὲ Κίρκη
πάρ ῥʼ ἄκυλον βάλανόν τε βάλεν καρπόν τε κρανείης
ἔδμεναι, οἷα σύες χαμαιευνάδες αἰὲν ἔδουσιν.
Εὐρύλοχος δʼ αἶψʼ ἦλθε θοὴν ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν
ἀγγελίην ἑτάρων ἐρέων καὶ ἀδευκέα πότμον.
οὐδέ τι ἐκφάσθαι δύνατο ἔπος ἱέμενός περ,
κῆρ ἄχεϊ μεγάλῳ βεβολημένος· ἐν δέ οἱ ὄσσε
δακρυόφιν πίμπλαντο, γόον δʼ ὠίετο θυμός.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή μιν πάντες ἀγασσάμεθʼ ἐξερέοντες,
καὶ τότε τῶν ἄλλων ἑτάρων κατέλεξεν ὄλεθρον·
ἤιομεν, ὡς ἐκέλευες, ἀνὰ δρυμά, φαίδιμʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ·
εὕρομεν ἐν βήσσῃσι τετυγμένα δώματα καλὰ
ξεστοῖσιν λάεσσι, περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ.
ἔνθα δέ τις μέγαν ἱστὸν ἐποιχομένη λίγʼ ἄειδεν,
ἢ θεὸς ἠὲ γυνή· τοὶ δὲ φθέγγοντο καλεῦντες.
ἡ δʼ αἶψʼ ἐξελθοῦσα θύρας ὤιξε φαεινὰς
καὶ κάλει· οἱ δʼ ἅμα πάντες ἀιδρείῃσιν ἕποντο·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ὑπέμεινα, ὀισάμενος δόλον εἶναι.
οἱ δʼ ἅμʼ ἀιστώθησαν ἀολλέες, οὐδέ τις αὐτῶν
ἐξεφάνη· δηρὸν δὲ καθήμενος ἐσκοπίαζον.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ περὶ μὲν ξίφος ἀργυρόηλον
ὤμοιιν βαλόμην, μέγα χάλκεον, ἀμφὶ δὲ τόξα·
τὸν δʼ ἂψ ἠνώγεα αὐτὴν ὁδὸν ἡγήσασθαι.
αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ ἀμφοτέρῃσι λαβὼν ἐλλίσσετο γούνων
καί μʼ ὀλοφυρόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
μή μʼ ἄγε κεῖσʼ ἀέκοντα, διοτρεφές, ἀλλὰ λίπʼ αὐτοῦ.
οἶδα γάρ, ὡς οὔτʼ αὐτὸς ἐλεύσεαι οὔτε τινʼ ἄλλον
ἄξεις σῶν ἑτάρων. ἀλλὰ ξὺν τοίσδεσι θᾶσσον
φεύγωμεν· ἔτι γάρ κεν ἀλύξαιμεν κακὸν ἦμαρ.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
Εὐρύλοχʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν σὺ μένʼ αὐτοῦ τῷδʼ ἐνὶ χώρῳ
ἔσθων καὶ πίνων κοίλῃ παρὰ νηὶ μελαίνῃ·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν εἶμι, κρατερὴ δέ μοι ἔπλετʼ ἀνάγκη.
ὣς εἰπὼν παρὰ νηὸς ἀνήιον ἠδὲ θαλάσσης.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἄρʼ ἔμελλον ἰὼν ἱερὰς ἀνὰ βήσσας
Κίρκης ἵξεσθαι πολυφαρμάκου ἐς μέγα δῶμα,
ἔνθα μοι Ἑρμείας χρυσόρραπις ἀντεβόλησεν
ἐρχομένῳ πρὸς δῶμα, νεηνίῃ ἀνδρὶ ἐοικώς,
πρῶτον ὑπηνήτῃ, τοῦ περ χαριεστάτη ἥβη·
ἔν τʼ ἄρα μοι φῦ χειρί, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
πῇ δὴ αὖτʼ, ὦ δύστηνε, διʼ ἄκριας ἔρχεαι οἶος,
χώρου ἄιδρις ἐών; ἕταροι δέ τοι οἵδʼ ἐνὶ Κίρκης
ἔρχαται ὥς τε σύες πυκινοὺς κευθμῶνας ἔχοντες.
ἦ τοὺς λυσόμενος δεῦρʼ ἔρχεαι; οὐδέ σέ φημι
αὐτὸν νοστήσειν, μενέεις δὲ σύ γʼ, ἔνθα περ ἄλλοι.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε δή σε κακῶν ἐκλύσομαι ἠδὲ σαώσω.
τῆ, τόδε φάρμακον ἐσθλὸν ἔχων ἐς δώματα Κίρκης
ἔρχευ, ὅ κέν τοι κρατὸς ἀλάλκῃσιν κακὸν ἦμαρ.
πάντα δέ τοι ἐρέω ὀλοφώια δήνεα Κίρκης.
τεύξει τοι κυκεῶ, βαλέει δʼ ἐν φάρμακα σίτῳ.
ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς θέλξαι σε δυνήσεται· οὐ γὰρ ἐάσει
φάρμακον ἐσθλόν, ὅ τοι δώσω, ἐρέω δὲ ἕκαστα.
ὁππότε κεν Κίρκη σʼ ἐλάσῃ περιμήκεϊ ῥάβδῳ,
δὴ τότε σὺ ξίφος ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ
Κίρκῃ ἐπαῖξαι, ὥς τε κτάμεναι μενεαίνων.
ἡ δέ σʼ ὑποδείσασα κελήσεται εὐνηθῆναι·
ἔνθα σὺ μηκέτʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπανήνασθαι θεοῦ εὐνήν,
ὄφρα κέ τοι λύσῃ θʼ ἑτάρους αὐτόν τε κομίσσῃ·
ἀλλὰ κέλεσθαί μιν μακάρων μέγαν ὅρκον ὀμόσσαι,
μή τί τοι αὐτῷ πῆμα κακὸν βουλευσέμεν ἄλλο,
μή σʼ ἀπογυμνωθέντα κακὸν καὶ ἀνήνορα θήῃ.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας πόρε φάρμακον ἀργεϊφόντης
ἐκ γαίης ἐρύσας, καί μοι φύσιν αὐτοῦ ἔδειξε.
ῥίζῃ μὲν μέλαν ἔσκε, γάλακτι δὲ εἴκελον ἄνθος·
μῶλυ δέ μιν καλέουσι θεοί· χαλεπὸν δέ τʼ ὀρύσσειν
ἀνδράσι γε θνητοῖσι, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα δύνανται.
Ἑρμείας μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀπέβη πρὸς μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον
νῆσον ἀνʼ ὑλήεσσαν, ἐγὼ δʼ ἐς δώματα Κίρκης
ἤια, πολλὰ δέ μοι κραδίη πόρφυρε κιόντι.
ἔστην δʼ εἰνὶ θύρῃσι θεᾶς καλλιπλοκάμοιο·
ἔνθα στὰς ἐβόησα, θεὰ δέ μευ ἔκλυεν αὐδῆς.
ἡ δʼ αἶψʼ ἐξελθοῦσα θύρας ὤιξε φαεινὰς
καὶ κάλει· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἑπόμην ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ.
εἷσε δέ μʼ εἰσαγαγοῦσα ἐπὶ θρόνου ἀργυροήλου
καλοῦ δαιδαλέου· ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν·
τεῦχε δέ μοι κυκεῶ χρυσέῳ δέπαι, ὄφρα πίοιμι,
ἐν δέ τε φάρμακον ἧκε, κακὰ φρονέουσʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δῶκέν τε καὶ ἔκπιον, οὐδέ μʼ ἔθελξε,
ῥάβδῳ πεπληγυῖα ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
ἔρχεο νῦν συφεόνδε, μετʼ ἄλλων λέξο ἑταίρων.
ὣς φάτʼ, ἐγὼ δʼ ἄορ ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ
Κίρκῃ ἐπήιξα ὥς τε κτάμεναι μενεαίνων.
ἡ δὲ μέγα ἰάχουσα ὑπέδραμε καὶ λάβε γούνων,
καί μʼ ὀλοφυρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
τίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;
θαῦμά μʼ ἔχει ὡς οὔ τι πιὼν τάδε φάρμακʼ ἐθέλχθης·
οὐδὲ γὰρ οὐδέ τις ἄλλος ἀνὴρ τάδε φάρμακʼ ἀνέτλη,
ὅς κε πίῃ καὶ πρῶτον ἀμείψεται ἕρκος ὀδόντων.
σοὶ δέ τις ἐν στήθεσσιν ἀκήλητος νόος ἐστίν.
ἦ σύ γʼ Ὀδυσσεύς ἐσσι πολύτροπος, ὅν τέ μοι αἰεὶ
φάσκεν ἐλεύσεσθαι χρυσόρραπις ἀργεϊφόντης,
ἐκ Τροίης ἀνιόντα θοῇ σὺν νηὶ μελαίνῃ.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε δὴ κολεῷ μὲν ἄορ θέο, νῶι δʼ ἔπειτα
εὐνῆς ἡμετέρης ἐπιβείομεν, ὄφρα μιγέντε
εὐνῇ καὶ φιλότητι πεποίθομεν ἀλλήλοισιν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ὦ Κίρκη, πῶς γάρ με κέλεαι σοὶ ἤπιον εἶναι,
ἥ μοι σῦς μὲν ἔθηκας ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἑταίρους,
αὐτὸν δʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἔχουσα δολοφρονέουσα κελεύεις
ἐς θάλαμόν τʼ ἰέναι καὶ σῆς ἐπιβήμεναι εὐνῆς,
ὄφρα με γυμνωθέντα κακὸν καὶ ἀνήνορα θήῃς.
οὐδʼ ἂν ἐγώ γʼ ἐθέλοιμι τεῆς ἐπιβήμεναι εὐνῆς,
εἰ μή μοι τλαίης γε, θεά, μέγαν ὅρκον ὀμόσσαι
μή τί μοι αὐτῷ πῆμα κακὸν βουλευσέμεν ἄλλο.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀπώμνυεν, ὡς ἐκέλευον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσέν τε τελεύτησέν τε τὸν ὅρκον,
καὶ τότʼ ἐγὼ Κίρκης ἐπέβην περικαλλέος εὐνῆς.
ἀμφίπολοι δʼ ἄρα τέως μὲν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πένοντο
τέσσαρες, αἵ οἱ δῶμα κάτα δρήστειραι ἔασι·
γίγνονται δʼ ἄρα ταί γʼ ἔκ τε κρηνέων ἀπό τʼ ἀλσέων
ἔκ θʼ ἱερῶν ποταμῶν, οἵ τʼ εἰς ἅλαδε προρέουσι.
τάων ἡ μὲν ἔβαλλε θρόνοις ἔνι ῥήγεα καλὰ
πορφύρεα καθύπερθʼ, ὑπένερθε δὲ λῖθʼ ὑπέβαλλεν·
ἡ δʼ ἑτέρη προπάροιθε θρόνων ἐτίταινε τραπέζας
ἀργυρέας, ἐπὶ δέ σφι τίθει χρύσεια κάνεια·
ἡ δὲ τρίτη κρητῆρι μελίφρονα οἶνον ἐκίρνα
ἡδὺν ἐν ἀργυρέῳ, νέμε δὲ χρύσεια κύπελλα·
ἡ δὲ τετάρτη ὕδωρ ἐφόρει καὶ πῦρ ἀνέκαιε
πολλὸν ὑπὸ τρίποδι μεγάλῳ· ἰαίνετο δʼ ὕδωρ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ ζέσσεν ὕδωρ ἐνὶ ἤνοπι χαλκῷ,
ἔς ῥʼ ἀσάμινθον ἕσασα λόʼ ἐκ τρίποδος μεγάλοιο,
θυμῆρες κεράσασα, κατὰ κρατός τε καὶ ὤμων,
ὄφρα μοι ἐκ κάματον θυμοφθόρον εἵλετο γυίων.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ λοῦσέν τε καὶ ἔχρισεν λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δέ με χλαῖναν καλὴν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,
εἷσε δέ μʼ εἰσαγαγοῦσα ἐπὶ θρόνου ἀργυροήλου
καλοῦ δαιδαλέου, ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν·
χέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα
καλῇ χρυσείῃ, ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,
νίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.
σῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,
εἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων.
ἐσθέμεναι δʼ ἐκέλευεν· ἐμῷ δʼ οὐχ ἥνδανε θυμῷ,
ἀλλʼ ἥμην ἀλλοφρονέων, κακὰ δʼ ὄσσετο θυμός.
Κίρκη δʼ ὡς ἐνόησεν ἔμʼ ἥμενον οὐδʼ ἐπὶ σίτῳ
χεῖρας ἰάλλοντα, κρατερὸν δέ με πένθος ἔχοντα,
ἄγχι παρισταμένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
τίφθʼ οὕτως, Ὀδυσεῦ, κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζεαι ἶσος ἀναύδῳ,
θυμὸν ἔδων, βρώμης δʼ οὐχ ἅπτεαι οὐδὲ ποτῆτος;
ἦ τινά που δόλον ἄλλον ὀίεαι· οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ
δειδίμεν· ἤδη γάρ τοι ἀπώμοσα καρτερὸν ὅρκον.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ὦ Κίρκη, τίς γάρ κεν ἀνήρ, ὃς ἐναίσιμος εἴη,
πρὶν τλαίη πάσσασθαι ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,
πρὶν λύσασθʼ ἑτάρους καὶ ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδέσθαι;
ἀλλʼ εἰ δὴ πρόφρασσα πιεῖν φαγέμεν τε κελεύεις,
λῦσον, ἵνʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδω ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους.
ὣς ἐφάμην, Κίρκη δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει
ῥάβδον ἔχουσʼ ἐν χειρί, θύρας δʼ ἀνέῳξε συφειοῦ,
ἐκ δʼ ἔλασεν σιάλοισιν ἐοικότας ἐννεώροισιν.
οἱ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἔστησαν ἐναντίοι, ἡ δὲ διʼ αὐτῶν
ἐρχομένη προσάλειφεν ἑκάστῳ φάρμακον ἄλλο.
τῶν δʼ ἐκ μὲν μελέων τρίχες ἔρρεον, ἃς πρὶν ἔφυσε
φάρμακον οὐλόμενον, τό σφιν πόρε πότνια Κίρκη·
ἄνδρες δʼ ἂψ ἐγένοντο νεώτεροι ἢ πάρος ἦσαν,
καὶ πολὺ καλλίονες καὶ μείζονες εἰσοράασθαι.
ἔγνωσαν δέ μʼ ἐκεῖνοι ἔφυν τʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἕκαστος.
πᾶσιν δʼ ἱμερόεις ὑπέδυ γόος, ἀμφὶ δὲ δῶμα
σμερδαλέον κονάβιζε· θεὰ δʼ ἐλέαιρε καὶ αὐτή.
ἡ δέ μευ ἄγχι στᾶσα προσηύδα δῖα θεάων·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
ἔρχεο νῦν ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.
νῆα μὲν ἂρ πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσατε ἤπειρόνδε,
κτήματα δʼ ἐν σπήεσσι πελάσσατε ὅπλα τε πάντα·
αὐτὸς δʼ ἂψ ἰέναι καὶ ἄγειν ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ,
βῆν δʼ ἰέναι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.
εὗρον ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ νηὶ θοῇ ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους
οἴκτρʼ ὀλοφυρομένους, θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντας.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἄγραυλοι πόριες περὶ βοῦς ἀγελαίας,
ἐλθούσας ἐς κόπρον, ἐπὴν βοτάνης κορέσωνται,
πᾶσαι ἅμα σκαίρουσιν ἐναντίαι· οὐδʼ ἔτι σηκοὶ
ἴσχουσʼ, ἀλλʼ ἁδινὸν μυκώμεναι ἀμφιθέουσι·
μητέρας· ὣς ἔμʼ ἐκεῖνοι ἐπεὶ ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσι,
δακρυόεντες ἔχυντο· δόκησε δʼ ἄρα σφίσι θυμὸς
ὣς ἔμεν, ὡς εἰ πατρίδʼ ἱκοίατο καὶ πόλιν αὐτὴν
τρηχείης Ἰθάκης, ἵνα τʼ ἔτραφεν ἠδʼ ἐγένοντο.
καί μʼ ὀλοφυρόμενοι ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·
σοὶ μὲν νοστήσαντι, διοτρεφές, ὣς ἐχάρημεν,
ὡς εἴ τʼ εἰς Ἰθάκην ἀφικοίμεθα πατρίδα γαῖαν·
ἀλλʼ ἄγε, τῶν ἄλλων ἑτάρων κατάλεξον ὄλεθρον.
ὣς ἔφαν, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ προσέφην μαλακοῖς ἐπέεσσι·
νῆα μὲν ἂρ πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσομεν ἤπειρόνδε,
κτήματα δʼ ἐν σπήεσσι πελάσσομεν ὅπλα τε πάντα·
αὐτοὶ δʼ ὀτρύνεσθε ἐμοὶ ἅμα πάντες ἕπεσθαι,
ὄφρα ἴδηθʼ ἑτάρους ἱεροῖς ἐν δώμασι Κίρκης
πίνοντας καὶ ἔδοντας· ἐπηετανὸν γὰρ ἔχουσιν.
ὣς ἐφάμην, οἱ δʼ ὦκα ἐμοῖς ἐπέεσσι πίθοντο.
Εὐρύλοχος δέ μοι οἶος ἐρύκανε πάντας ἑταίρους·
καί σφεας φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ἆ δειλοί, πόσʼ ἴμεν; τί κακῶν ἱμείρετε τούτων;
Κίρκης ἐς μέγαρον καταβήμεναι, ἥ κεν ἅπαντας
ἢ σῦς ἠὲ λύκους ποιήσεται ἠὲ λέοντας,
οἵ κέν οἱ μέγα δῶμα φυλάσσοιμεν καὶ ἀνάγκῃ,
ὥς περ Κύκλωψ ἔρξʼ, ὅτε οἱ μέσσαυλον ἵκοντο
ἡμέτεροι ἕταροι, σὺν δʼ ὁ θρασὺς εἵπετʼ Ὀδυσσεύς·
τούτου γὰρ καὶ κεῖνοι ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὄλοντο.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε μετὰ φρεσὶ μερμήριξα,
σπασσάμενος τανύηκες ἄορ παχέος παρὰ μηροῦ,
τῷ οἱ ἀποπλήξας κεφαλὴν οὖδάσδε πελάσσαι,
καὶ πηῷ περ ἐόντι μάλα σχεδόν· ἀλλά μʼ ἑταῖροι
μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσιν ἐρήτυον ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος·
διογενές, τοῦτον μὲν ἐάσομεν, εἰ σὺ κελεύεις,
αὐτοῦ πὰρ νηί τε μένειν καὶ νῆα ἔρυσθαι·
ἡμῖν δʼ ἡγεμόνευʼ ἱερὰ πρὸς δώματα Κίρκης.
ὣς φάμενοι παρὰ νηὸς ἀνήιον ἠδὲ θαλάσσης.
οὐδὲ μὲν Εὐρύλοχος κοίλῃ παρὰ νηὶ λέλειπτο,
ἀλλʼ ἕπετʼ· ἔδεισεν γὰρ ἐμὴν ἔκπαγλον ἐνιπήν.
τόφρα δὲ τοὺς ἄλλους ἑτάρους ἐν δώμασι Κίρκη
ἐνδυκέως λοῦσέν τε καὶ ἔχρισεν λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα χλαίνας οὔλας βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνας·
δαινυμένους δʼ ἐὺ πάντας ἐφεύρομεν ἐν μεγάροισιν.
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ἀλλήλους εἶδον φράσσαντό τʼ ἐσάντα,
κλαῖον ὀδυρόμενοι, περὶ δὲ στεναχίζετο δῶμα.
ἡ δέ μευ ἄγχι στᾶσα προσηύδα δῖα θεάων·
μηκέτι νῦν θαλερὸν γόον ὄρνυτε· οἶδα καὶ αὐτὴ
ἠμὲν ὅσʼ ἐν πόντῳ πάθετʼ ἄλγεα ἰχθυόεντι,
ἠδʼ ὅσʼ ἀνάρσιοι ἄνδρες ἐδηλήσαντʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου.
ἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ ἐσθίετε βρώμην καὶ πίνετε οἶνον,
εἰς ὅ κεν αὖτις θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι λάβητε,
οἷον ὅτε πρώτιστον ἐλείπετε πατρίδα γαῖαν
τρηχείης Ἰθάκης. νῦν δʼ ἀσκελέες καὶ ἄθυμοι,
αἰὲν ἄλης χαλεπῆς μεμνημένοι, οὐδέ ποθʼ ὕμιν
θυμὸς ἐν εὐφροσύνῃ, ἐπεὶ ἦ μάλα πολλὰ πέποσθε.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
ἔνθα μὲν ἤματα πάντα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν
ἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἐνιαυτὸς ἔην, περὶ δʼ ἔτραπον ὧραι
μηνῶν φθινόντων, περὶ δʼ ἤματα μακρὰ τελέσθη,
καὶ τότε μʼ ἐκκαλέσαντες ἔφαν ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι·
δαιμόνιʼ, ἤδη νῦν μιμνήσκεο πατρίδος αἴης,
εἴ τοι θέσφατόν ἐστι σαωθῆναι καὶ ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐς ὑψόροφον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ὣς ἔφαν, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
ὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα
ἥμεθα, δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·
ἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθεν,
οἱ μὲν κοιμήσαντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ Κίρκης ἐπιβὰς περικαλλέος εὐνῆς
γούνων ἐλλιτάνευσα, θεὰ δέ μευ ἔκλυεν αὐδῆς·
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·
ὢ Κίρκη, τέλεσόν μοι ὑπόσχεσιν ἥν περ ὑπέστης,
οἴκαδε πεμψέμεναι· θυμὸς δέ μοι ἔσσυται ἤδη,
ἠδʼ ἄλλων ἑτάρων, οἵ μευ φθινύθουσι φίλον κῆρ
ἀμφʼ ἔμʼ ὀδυρόμενοι, ὅτε που σύ γε νόσφι γένηαι.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
μηκέτι νῦν ἀέκοντες ἐμῷ ἐνὶ μίμνετε οἴκῳ.
ἀλλʼ ἄλλην χρὴ πρῶτον ὁδὸν τελέσαι καὶ ἱκέσθαι
εἰς Ἀίδαο δόμους καὶ ἐπαινῆς Περσεφονείης,
ψυχῇ χρησομένους Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο,
μάντηος ἀλαοῦ, τοῦ τε φρένες ἔμπεδοί εἰσι·
τῷ καὶ τεθνηῶτι νόον πόρε Περσεφόνεια,
οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι, τοὶ δὲ σκιαὶ ἀίσσουσιν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ·
κλαῖον δʼ ἐν λεχέεσσι καθήμενος, οὐδέ νύ μοι κῆρ
ἤθελʼ ἔτι ζώειν καὶ ὁρᾶν φάος ἠελίοιο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κλαίων τε κυλινδόμενος τʼ ἐκορέσθην,
καὶ τότε δή μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ὢ Κίρκη, τίς γὰρ ταύτην ὁδὸν ἡγεμονεύσει;
εἰς Ἄϊδος δʼ οὔ πώ τις ἀφίκετο νηὶ μελαίνῃ.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
μή τί τοι ἡγεμόνος γε ποθὴ παρὰ νηὶ μελέσθω,
ἱστὸν δὲ στήσας, ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λευκὰ πετάσσας
ἧσθαι· τὴν δέ κέ τοι πνοιὴ Βορέαο φέρῃσιν.
ἀλλʼ ὁπότʼ ἂν δὴ νηὶ διʼ Ὠκεανοῖο περήσῃς,
ἔνθʼ ἀκτή τε λάχεια καὶ ἄλσεα Περσεφονείης,
μακραί τʼ αἴγειροι καὶ ἰτέαι ὠλεσίκαρποι,
νῆα μὲν αὐτοῦ κέλσαι ἐπʼ Ὠκεανῷ βαθυδίνῃ,
αὐτὸς δʼ εἰς Ἀίδεω ἰέναι δόμον εὐρώεντα.
ἔνθα μὲν εἰς Ἀχέροντα Πυριφλεγέθων τε ῥέουσιν
Κώκυτός θʼ, ὃς δὴ Στυγὸς ὕδατός ἐστιν ἀπορρώξ,
πέτρη τε ξύνεσίς τε δύω ποταμῶν ἐριδούπων·
ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειθʼ, ἥρως, χριμφθεὶς πέλας, ὥς σε κελεύω,
βόθρον ὀρύξαι, ὅσον τε πυγούσιον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,
ἀμφʼ αὐτῷ δὲ χοὴν χεῖσθαι πᾶσιν νεκύεσσιν,
πρῶτα μελικρήτῳ, μετέπειτα δὲ ἡδέι οἴνῳ,
τὸ τρίτον αὖθʼ ὕδατι· ἐπὶ δʼ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ παλύνειν.
πολλὰ δὲ γουνοῦσθαι νεκύων ἀμενηνὰ κάρηνα,
ἐλθὼν εἰς Ἰθάκην στεῖραν βοῦν, ἥ τις ἀρίστη,
ῥέξειν ἐν μεγάροισι πυρήν τʼ ἐμπλησέμεν ἐσθλῶν,
Τειρεσίῃ δʼ ἀπάνευθεν ὄιν ἱερευσέμεν οἴῳ
παμμέλανʼ, ὃς μήλοισι μεταπρέπει ὑμετέροισιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν εὐχῇσι λίσῃ κλυτὰ ἔθνεα νεκρῶν,
ἔνθʼ ὄιν ἀρνειὸν ῥέζειν θῆλύν τε μέλαιναν
εἰς Ἔρεβος στρέψας, αὐτὸς δʼ ἀπονόσφι τραπέσθαι
ἱέμενος ποταμοῖο ῥοάων· ἔνθα δὲ πολλαὶ
ψυχαὶ ἐλεύσονται νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων.
δὴ τότʼ ἔπειθʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρῦναι καὶ ἀνῶξαι
μῆλα, τὰ δὴ κατάκειτʼ ἐσφαγμένα νηλέι χαλκῷ,
δείραντας κατακῆαι, ἐπεύξασθαι δὲ θεοῖσιν,
ἰφθίμῳ τʼ Ἀίδῃ καὶ ἐπαινῇ Περσεφονείῃ·
αὐτὸς δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ
ἧσθαι, μηδὲ ἐᾶν νεκύων ἀμενηνὰ κάρηνα
αἵματος ἆσσον ἴμεν, πρὶν Τειρεσίαο πυθέσθαι.
ἔνθα τοι αὐτίκα μάντις ἐλεύσεται, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
ὅς κέν τοι εἴπῃσιν ὁδὸν καὶ μέτρα κελεύθου
νόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσεαι ἰχθυόεντα.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτίκα δὲ χρυσόθρονος ἤλυθεν Ἠώς.
ἀμφὶ δέ με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα ἕσσεν·
αὐτὴ δʼ ἀργύφεον φᾶρος μέγα ἕννυτο νύμφη,
λεπτὸν καὶ χαρίεν, περὶ δὲ ζώνην βάλετʼ ἰξυῖ
καλὴν χρυσείην, κεφαλῇ δʼ ἐπέθηκε καλύπτρην.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ διὰ δώματʼ ἰὼν ὤτρυνον ἑταίρους
μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι παρασταδὸν ἄνδρα ἕκαστον·
μηκέτι νῦν εὕδοντες ἀωτεῖτε γλυκὺν ὕπνον,
ἀλλʼ ἴομεν· δὴ γάρ μοι ἐπέφραδε πότνια Κίρκη.
ὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
οὐδὲ μὲν οὐδʼ ἔνθεν περ ἀπήμονας ἦγον ἑταίρους.
Ἐλπήνωρ δέ τις ἔσκε νεώτατος, οὔτε τι λίην
ἄλκιμος ἐν πολέμῳ οὔτε φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἀρηρώς·
ὅς μοι ἄνευθʼ ἑτάρων ἱεροῖς ἐν δώμασι Κίρκης,
ψύχεος ἱμείρων, κατελέξατο οἰνοβαρείων.
κινυμένων δʼ ἑτάρων ὅμαδον καὶ δοῦπον ἀκούσας
ἐξαπίνης ἀνόρουσε καὶ ἐκλάθετο φρεσὶν ᾗσιν
ἄψορρον καταβῆναι ἰὼν ἐς κλίμακα μακρήν,
ἀλλὰ καταντικρὺ τέγεος πέσεν· ἐκ δέ οἱ αὐχὴν
ἀστραγάλων ἐάγη, ψυχὴ δʼ Ἄϊδόσδε κατῆλθεν.
ἐρχομένοισι δὲ τοῖσιν ἐγὼ μετὰ μῦθον ἔειπον·
φάσθε νύ που οἶκόνδε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν
ἔρχεσθʼ· ἄλλην δʼ ἧμιν ὁδὸν τεκμήρατο Κίρκη,
εἰς Ἀίδαο δόμους καὶ ἐπαινῆς Περσεφονείης
ψυχῇ χρησομένους Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο.
ὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δὲ κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,
ἑζόμενοι δὲ κατʼ αὖθι γόων τίλλοντό τε χαίτας·
ἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ τις πρῆξις ἐγίγνετο μυρομένοισιν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης
ᾔομεν ἀχνύμενοι θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες,
τόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ οἰχομένη Κίρκη παρὰ νηὶ μελαίνῃ
ἀρνειὸν κατέδησεν ὄιν θῆλύν τε μέλαιναν,
ῥεῖα παρεξελθοῦσα· τίς ἂν θεὸν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα
ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδοιτʼ ἢ ἔνθʼ ἢ ἔνθα κιόντα;

### Book 11

αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλθομεν ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
νῆα μὲν ἂρ πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσαμεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν,
ἐν δʼ ἱστὸν τιθέμεσθα καὶ ἱστία νηὶ μελαίνῃ,
ἐν δὲ τὰ μῆλα λαβόντες ἐβήσαμεν, ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ
βαίνομεν ἀχνύμενοι θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες.
ἡμῖν δʼ αὖ κατόπισθε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο
ἴκμενον οὖρον ἵει πλησίστιον, ἐσθλὸν ἑταῖρον,
Κίρκη εὐπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα.
ἡμεῖς δʼ ὅπλα ἕκαστα πονησάμενοι κατὰ νῆα
ἥμεθα· τὴν δʼ ἄνεμός τε κυβερνήτης τʼ ἴθυνε.
τῆς δὲ πανημερίης τέταθʼ ἱστία ποντοπορούσης·
δύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί.
ἡ δʼ ἐς πείραθʼ ἵκανε βαθυρρόου Ὠκεανοῖο.
ἔνθα δὲ Κιμμερίων ἀνδρῶν δῆμός τε πόλις τε,
ἠέρι καὶ νεφέλῃ κεκαλυμμένοι· οὐδέ ποτʼ αὐτοὺς
ἠέλιος φαέθων καταδέρκεται ἀκτίνεσσιν,
οὔθʼ ὁπότʼ ἂν στείχῃσι πρὸς οὐρανὸν ἀστερόεντα,
οὔθʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἂψ ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἀπʼ οὐρανόθεν προτράπηται,
ἀλλʼ ἐπὶ νὺξ ὀλοὴ τέταται δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι.
νῆα μὲν ἔνθʼ ἐλθόντες ἐκέλσαμεν, ἐκ δὲ τὰ μῆλα
εἱλόμεθʼ· αὐτοὶ δʼ αὖτε παρὰ ῥόον Ὠκεανοῖο
ᾔομεν, ὄφρʼ ἐς χῶρον ἀφικόμεθʼ, ὃν φράσε Κίρκη.
ἔνθʼ ἱερήια μὲν Περιμήδης Εὐρύλοχός τε
ἔσχον· ἐγὼ δʼ ἄορ ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ
βόθρον ὄρυξʼ ὅσσον τε πυγούσιον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,
ἀμφʼ αὐτῷ δὲ χοὴν χεόμην πᾶσιν νεκύεσσι,
πρῶτα μελικρήτῳ, μετέπειτα δὲ ἡδέι οἴνῳ,
τὸ τρίτον αὖθʼ ὕδατι· ἐπὶ δʼ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ πάλυνον.
πολλὰ δὲ γουνούμην νεκύων ἀμενηνὰ κάρηνα,
ἐλθὼν εἰς Ἰθάκην στεῖραν βοῦν, ἥ τις ἀρίστη,
ῥέξειν ἐν μεγάροισι πυρήν τʼ ἐμπλησέμεν ἐσθλῶν,
Τειρεσίῃ δʼ ἀπάνευθεν ὄιν ἱερευσέμεν οἴῳ
παμμέλανʼ, ὃς μήλοισι μεταπρέπει ἡμετέροισι.
τοὺς δʼ ἐπεὶ εὐχωλῇσι λιτῇσί τε, ἔθνεα νεκρῶν,
ἐλλισάμην, τὰ δὲ μῆλα λαβὼν ἀπεδειροτόμησα
ἐς βόθρον, ῥέε δʼ αἷμα κελαινεφές· αἱ δʼ ἀγέροντο
ψυχαὶ ὑπὲξ Ἐρέβευς νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων.
νύμφαι τʼ ἠίθεοί τε πολύτλητοί τε γέροντες
παρθενικαί τʼ ἀταλαὶ νεοπενθέα θυμὸν ἔχουσαι,
πολλοὶ δʼ οὐτάμενοι χαλκήρεσιν ἐγχείῃσιν,
ἄνδρες ἀρηίφατοι βεβροτωμένα τεύχεʼ ἔχοντες·
οἳ πολλοὶ περὶ βόθρον ἐφοίτων ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος
θεσπεσίῃ ἰαχῇ· ἐμὲ δὲ χλωρὸν δέος ᾕρει.
δὴ τότʼ ἔπειθʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσα
μῆλα, τὰ δὴ κατέκειτʼ ἐσφαγμένα νηλέι χαλκῷ,
δείραντας κατακῆαι, ἐπεύξασθαι δὲ θεοῖσιν,
ἰφθίμῳ τʼ Ἀΐδῃ καὶ ἐπαινῇ Περσεφονείῃ·
αὐτὸς δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ
ἥμην, οὐδʼ εἴων νεκύων ἀμενηνὰ κάρηνα
αἵματος ἆσσον ἴμεν, πρὶν Τειρεσίαο πυθέσθαι.
πρώτη δὲ ψυχὴ Ἐλπήνορος ἦλθεν ἑταίρου·
οὐ γάρ πω ἐτέθαπτο ὑπὸ χθονὸς εὐρυοδείης·
σῶμα γὰρ ἐν Κίρκης μεγάρῳ κατελείπομεν ἡμεῖς
ἄκλαυτον καὶ ἄθαπτον, ἐπεὶ πόνος ἄλλος ἔπειγε.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ δάκρυσα ἰδὼν ἐλέησά τε θυμῷ,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·
Ἐλπῆνορ, πῶς ἦλθες ὑπὸ ζόφον ἠερόεντα;
ἔφθης πεζὸς ἰὼν ἢ ἐγὼ σὺν νηὶ μελαίνῃ.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ οἰμώξας ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
ἆσέ με δαίμονος αἶσα κακὴ καὶ ἀθέσφατος οἶνος.
Κίρκης δʼ ἐν μεγάρῳ καταλέγμενος οὐκ ἐνόησα
ἄψορρον καταβῆναι ἰὼν ἐς κλίμακα μακρήν,
ἀλλὰ καταντικρὺ τέγεος πέσον· ἐκ δέ μοι αὐχὴν
ἀστραγάλων ἐάγη, ψυχὴ δʼ Ἄϊδόσδε κατῆλθε.
νῦν δέ σε τῶν ὄπιθεν γουνάζομαι, οὐ παρεόντων,
πρός τʼ ἀλόχου καὶ πατρός, ὅ σʼ ἔτρεφε τυτθὸν ἐόντα,
Τηλεμάχου θʼ, ὃν μοῦνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔλειπες·
οἶδα γὰρ ὡς ἐνθένδε κιὼν δόμου ἐξ Ἀίδαο
νῆσον ἐς Αἰαίην σχήσεις ἐυεργέα νῆα·
ἔνθα σʼ ἔπειτα, ἄναξ, κέλομαι μνήσασθαι ἐμεῖο.
μή μʼ ἄκλαυτον ἄθαπτον ἰὼν ὄπιθεν καταλείπειν
νοσφισθείς, μή τοί τι θεῶν μήνιμα γένωμαι,
ἀλλά με κακκῆαι σὺν τεύχεσιν, ἅσσα μοι ἔστιν,
σῆμά τέ μοι χεῦαι πολιῆς ἐπὶ θινὶ θαλάσσης,
ἀνδρὸς δυστήνοιο καὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι.
ταῦτά τέ μοι τελέσαι πῆξαί τʼ ἐπὶ τύμβῳ ἐρετμόν,
τῷ καὶ ζωὸς ἔρεσσον ἐὼν μετʼ ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισιν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ταῦτά τοι, ὦ δύστηνε, τελευτήσω τε καὶ ἔρξω.
νῶι μὲν ὣς ἐπέεσσιν ἀμειβομένω στυγεροῖσιν
ἥμεθʼ, ἐγὼ μὲν ἄνευθεν ἐφʼ αἵματι φάσγανον ἴσχων,
εἴδωλον δʼ ἑτέρωθεν ἑταίρου πόλλʼ ἀγόρευεν·
ἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ ψυχὴ μητρὸς κατατεθνηυίης,
Αὐτολύκου θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀντίκλεια,
τὴν ζωὴν κατέλειπον ἰὼν εἰς Ἴλιον ἱρήν.
τὴν μὲν ἐγὼ δάκρυσα ἰδὼν ἐλέησά τε θυμῷ·
ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς εἴων προτέρην, πυκινόν περ ἀχεύων,
αἵματος ἆσσον ἴμεν, πρὶν Τειρεσίαο πυθέσθαι.
ἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ ψυχὴ Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο
χρύσεον σκῆπτρον ἔχων, ἐμὲ δʼ ἔγνω καὶ προσέειπεν·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
τίπτʼ αὖτʼ, ὦ δύστηνε, λιπὼν φάος ἠελίοιο
ἤλυθες, ὄφρα ἴδῃ νέκυας καὶ ἀτερπέα χῶρον;
ἀλλʼ ἀποχάζεο βόθρου, ἄπισχε δὲ φάσγανον ὀξύ,
αἵματος ὄφρα πίω καί τοι νημερτέα εἴπω.
ὣς φάτʼ, ἐγὼ δʼ ἀναχασσάμενος ξίφος ἀργυρόηλον
κουλεῷ ἐγκατέπηξʼ. ὁ δʼ ἐπεὶ πίεν αἷμα κελαινόν,
καὶ τότε δή μʼ ἐπέεσσι προσηύδα μάντις ἀμύμων·
νόστον δίζηαι μελιηδέα, φαίδιμʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ·
τὸν δέ τοι ἀργαλέον θήσει θεός· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω
λήσειν ἐννοσίγαιον, ὅ τοι κότον ἔνθετο θυμῷ
χωόμενος ὅτι οἱ υἱὸν φίλον ἐξαλάωσας.
ἀλλʼ ἔτι μέν κε καὶ ὣς κακά περ πάσχοντες ἵκοισθε,
αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃς σὸν θυμὸν ἐρυκακέειν καὶ ἑταίρων,
ὁππότε κε πρῶτον πελάσῃς ἐυεργέα νῆα
Θρινακίῃ νήσῳ, προφυγὼν ἰοειδέα πόντον,
βοσκομένας δʼ εὕρητε βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα
Ἠελίου, ὃς πάντʼ ἐφορᾷ καὶ πάντʼ ἐπακούει.
τὰς εἰ μέν κʼ ἀσινέας ἐάᾳς νόστου τε μέδηαι,
καί κεν ἔτʼ εἰς Ἰθάκην κακά περ πάσχοντες ἵκοισθε·
εἰ δέ κε σίνηαι, τότε τοι τεκμαίρομʼ ὄλεθρον,
νηί τε καὶ ἑτάροις. αὐτὸς δʼ εἴ πέρ κεν ἀλύξῃς,
ὀψὲ κακῶς νεῖαι, ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους,
νηὸς ἐπʼ ἀλλοτρίης· δήεις δʼ ἐν πήματα οἴκῳ,
ἄνδρας ὑπερφιάλους, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσι
μνώμενοι ἀντιθέην ἄλοχον καὶ ἕδνα διδόντες.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι κείνων γε βίας ἀποτίσεαι ἐλθών·
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν μνηστῆρας ἐνὶ μεγάροισι τεοῖσι
κτείνῃς ἠὲ δόλῳ ἢ ἀμφαδὸν ὀξέι χαλκῷ,
ἔρχεσθαι δὴ ἔπειτα λαβὼν ἐυῆρες ἐρετμόν,
εἰς ὅ κε τοὺς ἀφίκηαι οἳ οὐκ ἴσασι θάλασσαν
ἀνέρες, οὐδέ θʼ ἅλεσσι μεμιγμένον εἶδαρ ἔδουσιν·
οὐδʼ ἄρα τοί γʼ ἴσασι νέας φοινικοπαρῄους
οὐδʼ ἐυήρεʼ ἐρετμά, τά τε πτερὰ νηυσὶ πέλονται.
σῆμα δέ τοι ἐρέω μάλʼ ἀριφραδές, οὐδέ σε λήσει·
ὁππότε κεν δή τοι συμβλήμενος ἄλλος ὁδίτης
φήῃ ἀθηρηλοιγὸν ἔχειν ἀνὰ φαιδίμῳ ὤμῳ,
καὶ τότε δὴ γαίῃ πήξας ἐυῆρες ἐρετμόν,
ῥέξας ἱερὰ καλὰ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι,
ἀρνειὸν ταῦρόν τε συῶν τʼ ἐπιβήτορα κάπρον,
οἴκαδʼ ἀποστείχειν ἔρδειν θʼ ἱερᾶς ἑκατόμβας
ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι,
πᾶσι μάλʼ ἑξείης. θάνατος δέ τοι ἐξ ἁλὸς αὐτῷ
ἀβληχρὸς μάλα τοῖος ἐλεύσεται, ὅς κέ σε πέφνῃ
γήραι ὕπο λιπαρῷ ἀρημένον· ἀμφὶ δὲ λαοὶ
ὄλβιοι ἔσσονται. τὰ δέ τοι νημερτέα εἴρω.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
Τειρεσίη, τὰ μὲν ἄρ που ἐπέκλωσαν θεοὶ αὐτοί.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον·
μητρὸς τήνδʼ ὁρόω ψυχὴν κατατεθνηυίης·
ἡ δʼ ἀκέουσʼ ἧσται σχεδὸν αἵματος, οὐδʼ ἑὸν υἱὸν
ἔτλη ἐσάντα ἰδεῖν οὐδὲ προτιμυθήσασθαι.
εἰπέ, ἄναξ, πῶς κέν με ἀναγνοίη τὸν ἐόντα;
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
ῥηΐδιόν τοι ἔπος ἐρέω καὶ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θήσω.
ὅν τινα μέν κεν ἐᾷς νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων
αἵματος ἆσσον ἴμεν, ὁ δέ τοι νημερτὲς ἐνίψει·
ᾧ δέ κʼ ἐπιφθονέῃς, ὁ δέ τοι πάλιν εἶσιν ὀπίσσω.
ὣς φαμένη ψυχὴ μὲν ἔβη δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω
Τειρεσίαο ἄνακτος, ἐπεὶ κατὰ θέσφατʼ ἔλεξεν·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν αὐτοῦ μένον ἔμπεδον, ὄφρʼ ἐπὶ μήτηρ
ἤλυθε καὶ πίεν αἷμα κελαινεφές· αὐτίκα δʼ ἔγνω,
καί μʼ ὀλοφυρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
τέκνον ἐμόν, πῶς ἦλθες ὑπὸ ζόφον ἠερόεντα
ζωὸς ἐών; χαλεπὸν δὲ τάδε ζωοῖσιν ὁρᾶσθαι.
μέσσῳ γὰρ μεγάλοι ποταμοὶ καὶ δεινὰ ῥέεθρα,
Ὠκεανὸς μὲν πρῶτα, τὸν οὔ πως ἔστι περῆσαι
πεζὸν ἐόντʼ, ἢν μή τις ἔχῃ ἐυεργέα νῆα.
ἦ νῦν δὴ Τροίηθεν ἀλώμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνεις
νηί τε καὶ ἑτάροισι πολὺν χρόνον; οὐδέ πω ἦλθες
εἰς Ἰθάκην, οὐδʼ εἶδες ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναῖκα;
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
μῆτερ ἐμή, χρειώ με κατήγαγεν εἰς Ἀίδαο
ψυχῇ χρησόμενον Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο·
οὐ γάρ πω σχεδὸν ἦλθον Ἀχαιΐδος, οὐδέ πω ἁμῆς
γῆς ἐπέβην, ἀλλʼ αἰὲν ἔχων ἀλάλημαι ὀιζύν,
ἐξ οὗ τὰ πρώτισθʼ ἑπόμην Ἀγαμέμνονι δίῳ
Ἴλιον εἰς ἐύπωλον, ἵνα Τρώεσσι μαχοίμην.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον·
τίς νύ σε κὴρ ἐδάμασσε τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο;
ἦ δολιχὴ νοῦσος, ἦ Ἄρτεμις ἰοχέαιρα
οἷς ἀγανοῖς βελέεσσιν ἐποιχομένη κατέπεφνεν;
εἰπὲ δέ μοι πατρός τε καὶ υἱέος, ὃν κατέλειπον,
ἢ ἔτι πὰρ κείνοισιν ἐμὸν γέρας, ἦέ τις ἤδη
ἀνδρῶν ἄλλος ἔχει, ἐμὲ δʼ οὐκέτι φασὶ νέεσθαι.
εἰπὲ δέ μοι μνηστῆς ἀλόχου βουλήν τε νόον τε,
ἠὲ μένει παρὰ παιδὶ καὶ ἔμπεδα πάντα φυλάσσει
ἦ ἤδη μιν ἔγημεν Ἀχαιῶν ὅς τις ἄριστος.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο πότνια μήτηρ·
καὶ λίην κείνη γε μένει τετληότι θυμῷ
σοῖσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν· ὀιζυραὶ δέ οἱ αἰεὶ
φθίνουσιν νύκτες τε καὶ ἤματα δάκρυ χεούσῃ.
σὸν δʼ οὔ πώ τις ἔχει καλὸν γέρας, ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος
Τηλέμαχος τεμένεα νέμεται καὶ δαῖτας ἐίσας
δαίνυται, ἃς ἐπέοικε δικασπόλον ἄνδρʼ ἀλεγύνειν·
πάντες γὰρ καλέουσι. πατὴρ δὲ σὸς αὐτόθι μίμνει
ἀγρῷ, οὐδὲ πόλινδε κατέρχεται. οὐδέ οἱ εὐναὶ
δέμνια καὶ χλαῖναι καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα,
ἀλλʼ ὅ γε χεῖμα μὲν εὕδει ὅθι δμῶες ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
ἐν κόνι ἄγχι πυρός, κακὰ δὲ χροῒ εἵματα εἷται·
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ἔλθῃσι θέρος τεθαλυῖά τʼ ὀπώρη,
πάντῃ οἱ κατὰ γουνὸν ἀλωῆς οἰνοπέδοιο
φύλλων κεκλιμένων χθαμαλαὶ βεβλήαται εὐναί.
ἔνθʼ ὅ γε κεῖτʼ ἀχέων, μέγα δὲ φρεσὶ πένθος ἀέξει
σὸν νόστον ποθέων, χαλεπὸν δʼ ἐπὶ γῆρας ἱκάνει.
οὕτω γὰρ καὶ ἐγὼν ὀλόμην καὶ πότμον ἐπέσπον·
οὔτʼ ἐμέ γʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐύσκοπος ἰοχέαιρα
οἷς ἀγανοῖς βελέεσσιν ἐποιχομένη κατέπεφνεν,
οὔτε τις οὖν μοι νοῦσος ἐπήλυθεν, ἥ τε μάλιστα
τηκεδόνι στυγερῇ μελέων ἐξείλετο θυμόν·
ἀλλά με σός τε πόθος σά τε μήδεα, φαίδιμʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
σή τʼ ἀγανοφροσύνη μελιηδέα θυμὸν ἀπηύρα.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γʼ ἔθελον φρεσὶ μερμηρίξας
μητρὸς ἐμῆς ψυχὴν ἑλέειν κατατεθνηυίης.
τρὶς μὲν ἐφωρμήθην, ἑλέειν τέ με θυμὸς ἀνώγει,
τρὶς δέ μοι ἐκ χειρῶν σκιῇ εἴκελον ἢ καὶ ὀνείρῳ
ἔπτατʼ. ἐμοὶ δʼ ἄχος ὀξὺ γενέσκετο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·
μῆτερ ἐμή, τί νύ μʼ οὐ μίμνεις ἑλέειν μεμαῶτα,
ὄφρα καὶ εἰν Ἀίδαο φίλας περὶ χεῖρε βαλόντε
ἀμφοτέρω κρυεροῖο τεταρπώμεσθα γόοιο;
ἦ τί μοι εἴδωλον τόδʼ ἀγαυὴ Περσεφόνεια
ὤτρυνʼ, ὄφρʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὀδυρόμενος στεναχίζω;
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο πότνια μήτηρ·
ὤ μοι, τέκνον ἐμόν, περὶ πάντων κάμμορε φωτῶν,
οὔ τί σε Περσεφόνεια Διὸς θυγάτηρ ἀπαφίσκει,
ἀλλʼ αὕτη δίκη ἐστὶ βροτῶν, ὅτε τίς κε θάνῃσιν·
οὐ γὰρ ἔτι σάρκας τε καὶ ὀστέα ἶνες ἔχουσιν,
ἀλλὰ τὰ μέν τε πυρὸς κρατερὸν μένος αἰθομένοιο
δαμνᾷ, ἐπεί κε πρῶτα λίπῃ λεύκʼ ὀστέα θυμός,
ψυχὴ δʼ ἠύτʼ ὄνειρος ἀποπταμένη πεπότηται.
ἀλλὰ φόωσδε τάχιστα λιλαίεο· ταῦτα δὲ πάντα
ἴσθʼ, ἵνα καὶ μετόπισθε τεῇ εἴπῃσθα γυναικί.
νῶι μὲν ὣς ἐπέεσσιν ἀμειβόμεθʼ, αἱ δὲ γυναῖκες
ἤλυθον, ὤτρυνεν γὰρ ἀγαυὴ Περσεφόνεια,
ὅσσαι ἀριστήων ἄλοχοι ἔσαν ἠδὲ θύγατρες.
αἱ δʼ ἀμφʼ αἷμα κελαινὸν ἀολλέες ἠγερέθοντο,
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ βούλευον ὅπως ἐρέοιμι ἑκάστην.
ἥδε δέ μοι κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή·
σπασσάμενος τανύηκες ἄορ παχέος παρὰ μηροῦ
οὐκ εἴων πίνειν ἅμα πάσας αἷμα κελαινόν.
αἱ δὲ προμνηστῖναι ἐπήισαν, ἠδὲ ἑκάστη
ὃν γόνον ἐξαγόρευεν· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐρέεινον ἁπάσας.
ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι πρώτην Τυρὼ ἴδον εὐπατέρειαν,
ἣ φάτο Σαλμωνῆος ἀμύμονος ἔκγονος εἶναι,
φῆ δὲ Κρηθῆος γυνὴ ἔμμεναι Αἰολίδαο·
ἣ ποταμοῦ ἠράσσατʼ Ἐνιπῆος θείοιο,
ὃς πολὺ κάλλιστος ποταμῶν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἵησι,
καί ῥʼ ἐπʼ Ἐνιπῆος πωλέσκετο καλὰ ῥέεθρα.
τῷ δʼ ἄρα εἰσάμενος γαιήοχος ἐννοσίγαιος
ἐν προχοῇς ποταμοῦ παρελέξατο δινήεντος·
πορφύρεον δʼ ἄρα κῦμα περιστάθη, οὔρεϊ ἶσον,
κυρτωθέν, κρύψεν δὲ θεὸν θνητήν τε γυναῖκα.
λῦσε δὲ παρθενίην ζώνην, κατὰ δʼ ὕπνον ἔχευεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐτέλεσσε θεὸς φιλοτήσια ἔργα,
ἔν τʼ ἄρα οἱ φῦ χειρί, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
χαῖρε, γύναι, φιλότητι· περιπλομένου δʼ ἐνιαυτοῦ
τέξεις ἀγλαὰ τέκνα, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἀποφώλιοι εὐναὶ
ἀθανάτων· σὺ δὲ τοὺς κομέειν ἀτιταλλέμεναί τε.
νῦν δʼ ἔρχευ πρὸς δῶμα, καὶ ἴσχεο μηδʼ ὀνομήνῃς·
αὐτὰρ ἐγώ τοί εἰμι Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων.
ὣς εἰπὼν ὑπὸ πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα.
ἡ δʼ ὑποκυσαμένη Πελίην τέκε καὶ Νηλῆα,
τὼ κρατερὼ θεράποντε Διὸς μεγάλοιο γενέσθην
ἀμφοτέρω· Πελίης μὲν ἐν εὐρυχόρῳ Ἰαωλκῷ
ναῖε πολύρρηνος, ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐν Πύλῳ ἠμαθόεντι.
τοὺς δʼ ἑτέρους Κρηθῆι τέκεν βασίλεια γυναικῶν,
Αἴσονά τʼ ἠδὲ Φέρητʼ Ἀμυθάονά θʼ ἱππιοχάρμην.
τὴν δὲ μετʼ Ἀντιόπην ἴδον, Ἀσωποῖο θύγατρα,
ἣ δὴ καὶ Διὸς εὔχετʼ ἐν ἀγκοίνῃσιν ἰαῦσαι,
καί ῥʼ ἔτεκεν δύο παῖδʼ, Ἀμφίονά τε Ζῆθόν τε,
οἳ πρῶτοι Θήβης ἕδος ἔκτισαν ἑπταπύλοιο,
πύργωσάν τʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐ μὲν ἀπύργωτόν γʼ ἐδύναντο
ναιέμεν εὐρύχορον Θήβην, κρατερώ περ ἐόντε.
τὴν δὲ μετʼ Ἀλκμήνην ἴδον, Ἀμφιτρύωνος ἄκοιτιν,
ἥ ῥʼ Ἡρακλῆα θρασυμέμνονα θυμολέοντα
γείνατʼ ἐν ἀγκοίνῃσι Διὸς μεγάλοιο μιγεῖσα·
καὶ Μεγάρην, Κρείοντος ὑπερθύμοιο θύγατρα,
τὴν ἔχεν Ἀμφιτρύωνος υἱὸς μένος αἰὲν ἀτειρής.
μητέρα τʼ Οἰδιπόδαο ἴδον, καλὴν Ἐπικάστην,
ἣ μέγα ἔργον ἔρεξεν ἀιδρείῃσι νόοιο
γημαμένη ᾧ υἷι· ὁ δʼ ὃν πατέρʼ ἐξεναρίξας
γῆμεν· ἄφαρ δʼ ἀνάπυστα θεοὶ θέσαν ἀνθρώποισιν.
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἐν Θήβῃ πολυηράτῳ ἄλγεα πάσχων
Καδμείων ἤνασσε θεῶν ὀλοὰς διὰ βουλάς·
ἡ δʼ ἔβη εἰς Ἀίδαο πυλάρταο κρατεροῖο,
ἁψαμένη βρόχον αἰπὺν ἀφʼ ὑψηλοῖο μελάθρου,
ᾧ ἄχεϊ σχομένη· τῷ δʼ ἄλγεα κάλλιπʼ ὀπίσσω
πολλὰ μάλʼ, ὅσσα τε μητρὸς Ἐρινύες ἐκτελέουσιν.
καὶ Χλῶριν εἶδον περικαλλέα, τήν ποτε Νηλεὺς
γῆμεν ἑὸν διὰ κάλλος, ἐπεὶ πόρε μυρία ἕδνα,
ὁπλοτάτην κούρην Ἀμφίονος Ἰασίδαο,
ὅς ποτʼ ἐν Ὀρχομενῷ Μινυείῳ ἶφι ἄνασσεν·
ἡ δὲ Πύλου βασίλευε, τέκεν δέ οἱ ἀγλαὰ τέκνα,
Νέστορά τε Χρόμιον τε Περικλύμενόν τʼ ἀγέρωχον.
τοῖσι δʼ ἐπʼ ἰφθίμην Πηρὼ τέκε, θαῦμα βροτοῖσι,
τὴν πάντες μνώοντο περικτίται· οὐδʼ ἄρα Νηλεὺς
τῷ ἐδίδου ὃς μὴ ἕλικας βόας εὐρυμετώπους
ἐκ Φυλάκης ἐλάσειε βίης Ἰφικληείης
ἀργαλέας· τὰς δʼ οἶος ὑπέσχετο μάντις ἀμύμων
ἐξελάαν· χαλεπὴ δὲ θεοῦ κατὰ μοῖρα πέδησε,
δεσμοί τʼ ἀργαλέοι καὶ βουκόλοι ἀγροιῶται.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ μῆνές τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐξετελεῦντο
ἂψ περιτελλομένου ἔτεος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,
καὶ τότε δή μιν ἔλυσε βίη Ἰφικληείη,
θέσφατα πάντʼ εἰπόντα· Διὸς δʼ ἐτελείετο βουλή.
καὶ Λήδην εἶδον, τὴν Τυνδαρέου παράκοιτιν,
ἥ ῥʼ ὑπὸ Τυνδαρέῳ κρατερόφρονε γείνατο παῖδε,
Κάστορά θʼ ἱππόδαμον καὶ πὺξ ἀγαθὸν Πολυδεύκεα,
τοὺς ἄμφω ζωοὺς κατέχει φυσίζοος αἶα·
οἳ καὶ νέρθεν γῆς τιμὴν πρὸς Ζηνὸς ἔχοντες
ἄλλοτε μὲν ζώουσʼ ἑτερήμεροι, ἄλλοτε δʼ αὖτε
τεθνᾶσιν· τιμὴν δὲ λελόγχασιν ἶσα θεοῖσι.
τὴν δὲ μετʼ Ἰφιμέδειαν, Ἀλωῆος παράκοιτιν
εἴσιδον, ἣ δὴ φάσκε Ποσειδάωνι μιγῆναι,
καί ῥʼ ἔτεκεν δύο παῖδε, μινυνθαδίω δʼ ἐγενέσθην,
Ὦτόν τʼ ἀντίθεον τηλεκλειτόν τʼ Ἐφιάλτην,
οὓς δὴ μηκίστους θρέψε ζείδωρος ἄρουρα
καὶ πολὺ καλλίστους μετά γε κλυτὸν Ὠρίωνα·
ἐννέωροι γὰρ τοί γε καὶ ἐννεαπήχεες ἦσαν
εὖρος, ἀτὰρ μῆκός γε γενέσθην ἐννεόργυιοι.
οἵ ῥα καὶ ἀθανάτοισιν ἀπειλήτην ἐν Ὀλύμπῳ
φυλόπιδα στήσειν πολυάικος πολέμοιο.
Ὄσσαν ἐπʼ Οὐλύμπῳ μέμασαν θέμεν, αὐτὰρ ἐπʼ Ὄσσῃ
Πήλιον εἰνοσίφυλλον, ἵνʼ οὐρανὸς ἀμβατὸς εἴη.
καί νύ κεν ἐξετέλεσσαν, εἰ ἥβης μέτρον ἵκοντο·
ἀλλʼ ὄλεσεν Διὸς υἱός, ὃν ἠύκομος τέκε Λητώ,
ἀμφοτέρω, πρίν σφωιν ὑπὸ κροτάφοισιν ἰούλους
ἀνθῆσαι πυκάσαι τε γένυς ἐυανθέι λάχνῃ.
Φαίδρην τε Πρόκριν τε ἴδον καλήν τʼ Ἀριάδνην,
κούρην Μίνωος ὀλοόφρονος, ἥν ποτε Θησεὺς
ἐκ Κρήτης ἐς γουνὸν Ἀθηνάων ἱεράων
ἦγε μέν, οὐδʼ ἀπόνητο· πάρος δέ μιν Ἄρτεμις ἔκτα
Δίῃ ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ Διονύσου μαρτυρίῃσιν.
Μαῖράν τε Κλυμένην τε ἴδον στυγερήν τʼ Ἐριφύλην,
ἣ χρυσὸν φίλου ἀνδρὸς ἐδέξατο τιμήεντα.
πάσας δʼ οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ὀνομήνω,
ὅσσας ἡρώων ἀλόχους ἴδον ἠδὲ θύγατρας·
πρὶν γάρ κεν καὶ νὺξ φθῖτʼ ἄμβροτος. ἀλλὰ καὶ ὥρη
εὕδειν, ἢ ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν ἐλθόντʼ ἐς ἑταίρους
ἢ αὐτοῦ· πομπὴ δὲ θεοῖς ὑμῖν τε μελήσει.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ,
κηληθμῷ δʼ ἔσχοντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀρήτη λευκώλενος ἤρχετο μύθων.
Φαίηκες, πῶς ὔμμιν ἀνὴρ ὅδε φαίνεται εἶναι
εἶδός τε μέγεθός τε ἰδὲ φρένας ἔνδον ἐίσας;
ξεῖνος δʼ αὖτʼ ἐμός ἐστιν, ἕκαστος δʼ ἔμμορε τιμῆς·
τῷ μὴ ἐπειγόμενοι ἀποπέμπετε, μηδὲ τὰ δῶρα
οὕτω χρηίζοντι κολούετε· πολλὰ γὰρ ὑμῖν
κτήματʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι θεῶν ἰότητι κέονται.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε γέρων ἥρως Ἐχένηος,
ὃς δὴ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν προγενέστερος ἦεν·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐ μὰν ἧμιν ἀπὸ σκοποῦ οὐδʼ ἀπὸ δόξης
μυθεῖται βασίλεια περίφρων· ἀλλὰ πίθεσθε.
Ἀλκινόου δʼ ἐκ τοῦδʼ ἔχεται ἔργον τε ἔπος τε.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
τοῦτο μὲν οὕτω δὴ ἔσται ἔπος, αἴ κεν ἐγώ γε
ζωὸς Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισιν ἀνάσσω·
ξεῖνος δὲ τλήτω μάλα περ νόστοιο χατίζων
ἔμπης οὖν ἐπιμεῖναι ἐς αὔριον, εἰς ὅ κε πᾶσαν
δωτίνην τελέσω· πομπὴ δʼ ἄνδρεσσι μελήσει
πᾶσι, μάλιστα δʼ ἐμοί· τοῦ γὰρ κράτος ἔστʼ ἐνὶ δήμῳ.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Ἀλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,
εἴ με καὶ εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν ἀνώγοιτʼ αὐτόθι μίμνειν,
πομπὴν δʼ ὀτρύνοιτε καὶ ἀγλαὰ δῶρα διδοῖτε,
καί κε τὸ βουλοίμην, καί κεν πολὺ κέρδιον εἴη,
πλειοτέρῃ σὺν χειρὶ φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἱκέσθαι·
καί κʼ αἰδοιότερος καὶ φίλτερος ἀνδράσιν εἴην
πᾶσιν, ὅσοι μʼ Ἰθάκηνδε ἰδοίατο νοστήσαντα.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
ὦ Ὀδυσεῦ, τὸ μὲν οὔ τί σʼ ἐίσκομεν εἰσορόωντες,
ἠπεροπῆά τʼ ἔμεν καὶ ἐπίκλοπον, οἷά τε πολλοὺς
βόσκει γαῖα μέλαινα πολυσπερέας ἀνθρώπους,
ψεύδεά τʼ ἀρτύνοντας ὅθεν κέ τις οὐδὲ ἴδοιτο·
σοὶ δʼ ἔπι μὲν μορφὴ ἐπέων, ἔνι δὲ φρένες ἐσθλαί.
μῦθον δʼ ὡς ὅτʼ ἀοιδὸς ἐπισταμένως κατέλεξας,
πάντων τʼ Ἀργείων σέο τʼ αὐτοῦ κήδεα λυγρά.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
εἴ τινας ἀντιθέων ἑτάρων ἴδες, οἵ τοι ἅμʼ αὐτῷ
Ἴλιον εἰς ἅμʼ ἕποντο καὶ αὐτοῦ πότμον ἐπέσπον.
νὺξ δʼ ἥδε μάλα μακρή, ἀθέσφατος· οὐδέ πω ὥρη
εὕδειν ἐν μεγάρῳ, σὺ δέ μοι λέγε θέσκελα ἔργα.
καί κεν ἐς ἠῶ δῖαν ἀνασχοίμην, ὅτε μοι σὺ
τλαίης ἐν μεγάρῳ τὰ σὰ κήδεα μυθήσασθαι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Ἀλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,
ὥρη μὲν πολέων μύθων, ὥρη δὲ καὶ ὕπνου·
εἰ δʼ ἔτʼ ἀκουέμεναί γε λιλαίεαι, οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε
τούτων σοι φθονέοιμι καὶ οἰκτρότερʼ ἄλλʼ ἀγορεύειν,
κήδεʼ ἐμῶν ἑτάρων, οἳ δὴ μετόπισθεν ὄλοντο,
οἳ Τρώων μὲν ὑπεξέφυγον στονόεσσαν ἀυτήν,
ἐν νόστῳ δʼ ἀπόλοντο κακῆς ἰότητι γυναικός.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ ψυχὰς μὲν ἀπεσκέδασʼ ἄλλυδις ἄλλῃ
ἁγνὴ Περσεφόνεια γυναικῶν θηλυτεράων,
ἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ ψυχὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο
ἀχνυμένη· περὶ δʼ ἄλλαι ἀγηγέραθʼ, ὅσσοι ἅμʼ αὐτῷ
οἴκῳ ἐν Αἰγίσθοιο θάνον καὶ πότμον ἐπέσπον.
ἔγνω δʼ αἶψʼ ἔμʼ ἐκεῖνος, ἐπεὶ πίεν αἷμα κελαινόν·
κλαῖε δʼ ὅ γε λιγέως, θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυον εἴβων,
πιτνὰς εἰς ἐμὲ χεῖρας, ὀρέξασθαι μενεαίνων·
ἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ οἱ ἔτʼ ἦν ἲς ἔμπεδος οὐδέ τι κῖκυς,
οἵη περ πάρος ἔσκεν ἐνὶ γναμπτοῖσι μέλεσσι.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ δάκρυσα ἰδὼν ἐλέησά τε θυμῷ,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·
Ἀτρεΐδη κύδιστε, ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγάμεμνον,
τίς νύ σε κὴρ ἐδάμασσε τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο;
ἦε σέ γʼ ἐν νήεσσι Ποσειδάων ἐδάμασσεν
ὄρσας ἀργαλέων ἀνέμων ἀμέγαρτον ἀυτμήν;
ἦέ σʼ ἀνάρσιοι ἄνδρες ἐδηλήσαντʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου
βοῦς περιταμνόμενον ἠδʼ οἰῶν πώεα καλά,
ἠὲ περὶ πτόλιος μαχεούμενον ἠδὲ γυναικῶν;
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
οὔτʼ ἐμέ γʼ ἐν νήεσσι Ποσειδάων ἐδάμασσεν
ὄρσας ἀργαλέων ἀνέμων ἀμέγαρτον ἀυτμήν,
οὔτε μʼ ἀνάρσιοι ἄνδρες ἐδηλήσαντʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου,
ἀλλά μοι Αἴγισθος τεύξας θάνατόν τε μόρον τε
ἔκτα σὺν οὐλομένῃ ἀλόχῳ, οἶκόνδε καλέσσας,
δειπνίσσας, ὥς τίς τε κατέκτανε βοῦν ἐπὶ φάτνῃ.
ὣς θάνον οἰκτίστῳ θανάτῳ· περὶ δʼ ἄλλοι ἑταῖροι
νωλεμέως κτείνοντο σύες ὣς ἀργιόδοντες,
οἵ ῥά τʼ ἐν ἀφνειοῦ ἀνδρὸς μέγα δυναμένοιο
ἢ γάμῳ ἢ ἐράνῳ ἢ εἰλαπίνῃ τεθαλυίῃ.
ἤδη μὲν πολέων φόνῳ ἀνδρῶν ἀντεβόλησας,
μουνὰξ κτεινομένων καὶ ἐνὶ κρατερῇ ὑσμίνῃ·
ἀλλά κε κεῖνα μάλιστα ἰδὼν ὀλοφύραο θυμῷ,
ὡς ἀμφὶ κρητῆρα τραπέζας τε πληθούσας
κείμεθʼ ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ, δάπεδον δʼ ἅπαν αἵματι θῦεν.
οἰκτροτάτην δʼ ἤκουσα ὄπα Πριάμοιο θυγατρός,
Κασσάνδρης, τὴν κτεῖνε Κλυταιμνήστρη δολόμητις
ἀμφʼ ἐμοί, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ ποτὶ γαίῃ χεῖρας ἀείρων
βάλλον ἀποθνήσκων περὶ φασγάνῳ· ἡ δὲ κυνῶπις
νοσφίσατʼ, οὐδέ μοι ἔτλη ἰόντι περ εἰς Ἀίδαο
χερσὶ κατʼ ὀφθαλμοὺς ἑλέειν σύν τε στόμʼ ἐρεῖσαι.
ὣς οὐκ αἰνότερον καὶ κύντερον ἄλλο γυναικός,
ἥ τις δὴ τοιαῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶν ἔργα βάληται·
οἷον δὴ καὶ κείνη ἐμήσατο ἔργον ἀεικές,
κουριδίῳ τεύξασα πόσει φόνον. ἦ τοι ἔφην γε
ἀσπάσιος παίδεσσιν ἰδὲ δμώεσσιν ἐμοῖσιν
οἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· ἡ δʼ ἔξοχα λυγρὰ ἰδυῖα
οἷ τε κατʼ αἶσχος ἔχευε καὶ ἐσσομένῃσιν ὀπίσσω
θηλυτέρῃσι γυναιξί, καὶ ἥ κʼ ἐυεργὸς ἔῃσιν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ γόνον Ἀτρέος εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς
ἐκπάγλως ἤχθηρε γυναικείας διὰ βουλὰς
ἐξ ἀρχῆς· Ἑλένης μὲν ἀπωλόμεθʼ εἵνεκα πολλοί,
σοὶ δὲ Κλυταιμνήστρη δόλον ἤρτυε τηλόθʼ ἐόντι.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·
τῷ νῦν μή ποτε καὶ σὺ γυναικί περ ἤπιος εἶναι·
μή οἱ μῦθον ἅπαντα πιφαυσκέμεν, ὅν κʼ ἐὺ εἰδῇς,
ἀλλὰ τὸ μὲν φάσθαι, τὸ δὲ καὶ κεκρυμμένον εἶναι.
ἀλλʼ οὐ σοί γʼ, Ὀδυσεῦ, φόνος ἔσσεται ἔκ γε γυναικός·
λίην γὰρ πινυτή τε καὶ εὖ φρεσὶ μήδεα οἶδε
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρων Πηνελόπεια.
ἦ μέν μιν νύμφην γε νέην κατελείπομεν ἡμεῖς
ἐρχόμενοι πόλεμόνδε· πάϊς δέ οἱ ἦν ἐπὶ μαζῷ
νήπιος, ὅς που νῦν γε μετʼ ἀνδρῶν ἵζει ἀριθμῷ,
ὄλβιος· ἦ γὰρ τόν γε πατὴρ φίλος ὄψεται ἐλθών,
καὶ κεῖνος πατέρα προσπτύξεται, ἣ θέμις ἐστίν.
ἡ δʼ ἐμὴ οὐδέ περ υἷος ἐνιπλησθῆναι ἄκοιτις
ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἔασε· πάρος δέ με πέφνε καὶ αὐτόν.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·
κρύβδην, μηδʼ ἀναφανδά, φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν
νῆα κατισχέμεναι· ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι πιστὰ γυναιξίν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
εἴ που ἔτι ζώοντος ἀκούετε παιδὸς ἐμοῖο,
ἤ που ἐν Ὀρχομενῷ ἢ ἐν Πύλῳ ἠμαθόεντι,
ἤ που πὰρ Μενελάῳ ἐνὶ Σπάρτῃ εὐρείῃ·
οὐ γάρ πω τέθνηκεν ἐπὶ χθονὶ δῖος Ὀρέστης.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
Ἀτρεΐδη, τί με ταῦτα διείρεαι; οὐδέ τι οἶδα,
ζώει ὅ γʼ ἦ τέθνηκε· κακὸν δʼ ἀνεμώλια βάζειν.
νῶι μὲν ὣς ἐπέεσσιν ἀμειβομένω στυγεροῖσιν
ἕσταμεν ἀχνύμενοι θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες·
ἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ ψυχὴ Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος
καὶ Πατροκλῆος καὶ ἀμύμονος Ἀντιλόχοιο
Αἴαντός θʼ, ὃς ἄριστος ἔην εἶδός τε δέμας τε
τῶν ἄλλων Δαναῶν μετʼ ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα.
ἔγνω δὲ ψυχή με ποδώκεος Αἰακίδαο
καί ῥʼ ὀλοφυρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
σχέτλιε, τίπτʼ ἔτι μεῖζον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μήσεαι ἔργον;
πῶς ἔτλης Ἄϊδόσδε κατελθέμεν, ἔνθα τε νεκροὶ
ἀφραδέες ναίουσι, βροτῶν εἴδωλα καμόντων;
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ὦ Ἀχιλεῦ Πηλῆος υἱέ, μέγα φέρτατʼ Ἀχαιῶν,
ἦλθον Τειρεσίαο κατὰ χρέος, εἴ τινα βουλὴν
εἴποι, ὅπως Ἰθάκην ἐς παιπαλόεσσαν ἱκοίμην·
οὐ γάρ πω σχεδὸν ἦλθον Ἀχαιΐδος, οὐδέ πω ἁμῆς
γῆς ἐπέβην, ἀλλʼ αἰὲν ἔχω κακά. σεῖο δʼ, Ἀχιλλεῦ,
οὔ τις ἀνὴρ προπάροιθε μακάρτατος οὔτʼ ἄρʼ ὀπίσσω.
πρὶν μὲν γάρ σε ζωὸν ἐτίομεν ἶσα θεοῖσιν
Ἀργεῖοι, νῦν αὖτε μέγα κρατέεις νεκύεσσιν
ἐνθάδʼ ἐών· τῷ μή τι θανὼν ἀκαχίζευ, Ἀχιλλεῦ.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·
μὴ δή μοι θάνατόν γε παραύδα, φαίδιμʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ.
βουλοίμην κʼ ἐπάρουρος ἐὼν θητευέμεν ἄλλῳ,
ἀνδρὶ παρʼ ἀκλήρῳ, ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη,
ἢ πᾶσιν νεκύεσσι καταφθιμένοισιν ἀνάσσειν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τοῦ παιδὸς ἀγαυοῦ μῦθον ἐνίσπες,
ἢ ἕπετʼ ἐς πόλεμον πρόμος ἔμμεναι, ἦε καὶ οὐκί.
εἰπὲ δέ μοι Πηλῆος ἀμύμονος, εἴ τι πέπυσσαι,
ἢ ἔτʼ ἔχει τιμὴν πολέσιν μετὰ Μυρμιδόνεσσιν,
ἦ μιν ἀτιμάζουσιν ἀνʼ Ἑλλάδα τε Φθίην τε,
οὕνεκά μιν κατὰ γῆρας ἔχει χεῖράς τε πόδας τε.
οὐ γὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπαρωγὸς ὑπʼ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο,
τοῖος ἐών, οἷός ποτʼ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ εὐρείῃ
πέφνον λαὸν ἄριστον, ἀμύνων Ἀργείοισιν·
εἰ τοιόσδʼ ἔλθοιμι μίνυνθά περ ἐς πατέρος δῶ·
τῷ κέ τεῳ στύξαιμι μένος καὶ χεῖρας ἀάπτους,
οἳ κεῖνον βιόωνται ἐέργουσίν τʼ ἀπὸ τιμῆς.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ἦ τοι μὲν Πηλῆος ἀμύμονος οὔ τι πέπυσμαι,
αὐτάρ τοι παιδός γε Νεοπτολέμοιο φίλοιο
πᾶσαν ἀληθείην μυθήσομαι, ὥς με κελεύεις·
αὐτὸς γάρ μιν ἐγὼ κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς ἐίσης
ἤγαγον ἐκ Σκύρου μετʼ ἐυκνήμιδας Ἀχαιούς.
ἦ τοι ὅτʼ ἀμφὶ πόλιν Τροίην φραζοίμεθα βουλάς,
αἰεὶ πρῶτος ἔβαζε καὶ οὐχ ἡμάρτανε μύθων·
Νέστωρ ἀντίθεος καὶ ἐγὼ νικάσκομεν οἴω.
αὐτὰρ ὅτʼ ἐν πεδίῳ Τρώων μαρναίμεθα χαλκῷ,
οὔ ποτʼ ἐνὶ πληθυῖ μένεν ἀνδρῶν οὐδʼ ἐν ὁμίλῳ,
ἀλλὰ πολὺ προθέεσκε τὸ ὃν μένος οὐδενὶ εἴκων,
πολλοὺς δʼ ἄνδρας ἔπεφνεν ἐν αἰνῇ δηιοτῆτι.
πάντας δʼ οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ὀνομήνω,
ὅσσον λαὸν ἔπεφνεν ἀμύνων Ἀργείοισιν,
ἀλλʼ οἷον τὸν Τηλεφίδην κατενήρατο χαλκῷ,
ἥρωʼ Εὐρύπυλον, πολλοὶ δʼ ἀμφʼ αὐτὸν ἑταῖροι
Κήτειοι κτείνοντο γυναίων εἵνεκα δώρων.
κεῖνον δὴ κάλλιστον ἴδον μετὰ Μέμνονα δῖον.
αὐτὰρ ὅτʼ εἰς ἵππον κατεβαίνομεν, ὃν κάμʼ Ἐπειός,
Ἀργείων οἱ ἄριστοι, ἐμοὶ δʼ ἐπὶ πάντα τέταλτο,
ἠμὲν ἀνακλῖναι πυκινὸν λόχον ἠδʼ ἐπιθεῖναι,
ἔνθʼ ἄλλοι Δαναῶν ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες
δάκρυά τʼ ὠμόργνυντο τρέμον θʼ ὑπὸ γυῖα ἑκάστου·
κεῖνον δʼ οὔ ποτε πάμπαν ἐγὼν ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν
οὔτʼ ὠχρήσαντα χρόα κάλλιμον οὔτε παρειῶν
δάκρυ ὀμορξάμενον· ὁ δέ γε μάλα πόλλʼ ἱκέτευεν
ἱππόθεν ἐξέμεναι, ξίφεος δʼ ἐπεμαίετο κώπην
καὶ δόρυ χαλκοβαρές, κακὰ δὲ Τρώεσσι μενοίνα.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ Πριάμοιο πόλιν διεπέρσαμεν αἰπήν,
μοῖραν καὶ γέρας ἐσθλὸν ἔχων ἐπὶ νηὸς ἔβαινεν
ἀσκηθής, οὔτʼ ἂρ βεβλημένος ὀξέι χαλκῷ
οὔτʼ αὐτοσχεδίην οὐτασμένος, οἷά τε πολλὰ
γίγνεται ἐν πολέμῳ· ἐπιμὶξ δέ τε μαίνεται Ἄρης.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ψυχὴ δὲ ποδώκεος Αἰακίδαο
φοίτα μακρὰ βιβᾶσα κατʼ ἀσφοδελὸν λειμῶνα,
γηθοσύνη ὅ οἱ υἱὸν ἔφην ἀριδείκετον εἶναι.
αἱ δʼ ἄλλαι ψυχαὶ νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων
ἕστασαν ἀχνύμεναι, εἴροντο δὲ κήδεʼ ἑκάστη.
οἴη δʼ Αἴαντος ψυχὴ Τελαμωνιάδαο
νόσφιν ἀφεστήκει, κεχολωμένη εἵνεκα νίκης,
τήν μιν ἐγὼ νίκησα δικαζόμενος παρὰ νηυσὶ
τεύχεσιν ἀμφʼ Ἀχιλῆος· ἔθηκε δὲ πότνια μήτηρ.
παῖδες δὲ Τρώων δίκασαν καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.
ὡς δὴ μὴ ὄφελον νικᾶν τοιῷδʼ ἐπʼ ἀέθλῳ·
τοίην γὰρ κεφαλὴν ἕνεκʼ αὐτῶν γαῖα κατέσχεν,
Αἴανθʼ, ὃς πέρι μὲν εἶδος, πέρι δʼ ἔργα τέτυκτο
τῶν ἄλλων Δαναῶν μετʼ ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼν ἐπέεσσι προσηύδων μειλιχίοισιν·
Αἶαν, παῖ Τελαμῶνος ἀμύμονος, οὐκ ἄρʼ ἔμελλες
οὐδὲ θανὼν λήσεσθαι ἐμοὶ χόλου εἵνεκα τευχέων
οὐλομένων; τὰ δὲ πῆμα θεοὶ θέσαν Ἀργείοισι,
τοῖος γάρ σφιν πύργος ἀπώλεο· σεῖο δʼ Ἀχαιοὶ
ἶσον Ἀχιλλῆος κεφαλῇ Πηληϊάδαο
ἀχνύμεθα φθιμένοιο διαμπερές· οὐδέ τις ἄλλος
αἴτιος, ἀλλὰ Ζεὺς Δαναῶν στρατὸν αἰχμητάων
ἐκπάγλως ἤχθηρε, τεῒν δʼ ἐπὶ μοῖραν ἔθηκεν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε δεῦρο, ἄναξ, ἵνʼ ἔπος καὶ μῦθον ἀκούσῃς
ἡμέτερον· δάμασον δὲ μένος καὶ ἀγήνορα θυμόν.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ οὐδὲν ἀμείβετο, βῆ δὲ μετʼ ἄλλας
ψυχὰς εἰς Ἔρεβος νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων.
ἔνθα χʼ ὅμως προσέφη κεχολωμένος, ἤ κεν ἐγὼ τόν·
ἀλλά μοι ἤθελε θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισι
τῶν ἄλλων ψυχὰς ἰδέειν κατατεθνηώτων.
ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι Μίνωα ἴδον, Διὸς ἀγλαὸν υἱόν,
χρύσεον σκῆπτρον ἔχοντα, θεμιστεύοντα νέκυσσιν,
ἥμενον, οἱ δέ μιν ἀμφὶ δίκας εἴροντο ἄνακτα,
ἥμενοι ἑσταότες τε κατʼ εὐρυπυλὲς Ἄϊδος δῶ.
τὸν δὲ μετʼ Ὠρίωνα πελώριον εἰσενόησα
θῆρας ὁμοῦ εἰλεῦντα κατʼ ἀσφοδελὸν λειμῶνα,
τοὺς αὐτὸς κατέπεφνεν ἐν οἰοπόλοισιν ὄρεσσι
χερσὶν ἔχων ῥόπαλον παγχάλκεον, αἰὲν ἀαγές.
καὶ Τιτυὸν εἶδον, Γαίης ἐρικυδέος υἱόν,
κείμενον ἐν δαπέδῳ· ὁ δʼ ἐπʼ ἐννέα κεῖτο πέλεθρα,
γῦπε δέ μιν ἑκάτερθε παρημένω ἧπαρ ἔκειρον,
δέρτρον ἔσω δύνοντες, ὁ δʼ οὐκ ἀπαμύνετο χερσί·
Λητὼ γὰρ ἕλκησε, Διὸς κυδρὴν παράκοιτιν,
Πυθώδʼ ἐρχομένην διὰ καλλιχόρου Πανοπῆος.
καὶ μὴν Τάνταλον εἰσεῖδον κρατέρʼ ἄλγεʼ ἔχοντα
ἑστεῶτʼ ἐν λίμνῃ· ἡ δὲ προσέπλαζε γενείῳ·
στεῦτο δὲ διψάων, πιέειν δʼ οὐκ εἶχεν ἑλέσθαι·
ὁσσάκι γὰρ κύψειʼ ὁ γέρων πιέειν μενεαίνων,
τοσσάχʼ ὕδωρ ἀπολέσκετʼ ἀναβροχέν, ἀμφὶ δὲ ποσσὶ
γαῖα μέλαινα φάνεσκε, καταζήνασκε δὲ δαίμων.
δένδρεα δʼ ὑψιπέτηλα κατὰ κρῆθεν χέε καρπόν,
ὄγχναι καὶ ῥοιαὶ καὶ μηλέαι ἀγλαόκαρποι
συκέαι τε γλυκεραὶ καὶ ἐλαῖαι τηλεθόωσαι·
τῶν ὁπότʼ ἰθύσειʼ ὁ γέρων ἐπὶ χερσὶ μάσασθαι,
τὰς δʼ ἄνεμος ῥίπτασκε ποτὶ νέφεα σκιόεντα.
καὶ μὴν Σίσυφον εἰσεῖδον κρατέρʼ ἄλγεʼ ἔχοντα
λᾶαν βαστάζοντα πελώριον ἀμφοτέρῃσιν.
ἦ τοι ὁ μὲν σκηριπτόμενος χερσίν τε ποσίν τε
λᾶαν ἄνω ὤθεσκε ποτὶ λόφον· ἀλλʼ ὅτε μέλλοι
ἄκρον ὑπερβαλέειν, τότʼ ἀποστρέψασκε κραταιίς·
αὖτις ἔπειτα πέδονδε κυλίνδετο λᾶας ἀναιδής.
αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ ἂψ ὤσασκε τιταινόμενος, κατὰ δʼ ἱδρὼς
ἔρρεεν ἐκ μελέων, κονίη δʼ ἐκ κρατὸς ὀρώρει.
τὸν δὲ μετʼ εἰσενόησα βίην Ἡρακληείην,
εἴδωλον· αὐτὸς δὲ μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι
τέρπεται ἐν θαλίῃς καὶ ἔχει καλλίσφυρον Ἥβην,
παῖδα Διὸς μεγάλοιο καὶ Ἥρης χρυσοπεδίλου.
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν κλαγγὴ νεκύων ἦν οἰωνῶν ὥς,
πάντοσʼ ἀτυζομένων· ὁ δʼ ἐρεμνῇ νυκτὶ ἐοικώς,
γυμνὸν τόξον ἔχων καὶ ἐπὶ νευρῆφιν ὀιστόν,
δεινὸν παπταίνων, αἰεὶ βαλέοντι ἐοικώς.
σμερδαλέος δέ οἱ ἀμφὶ περὶ στήθεσσιν ἀορτὴρ
χρύσεος ἦν τελαμών, ἵνα θέσκελα ἔργα τέτυκτο,
ἄρκτοι τʼ ἀγρότεροί τε σύες χαροποί τε λέοντες,
ὑσμῖναί τε μάχαι τε φόνοι τʼ ἀνδροκτασίαι τε.
μὴ τεχνησάμενος μηδʼ ἄλλο τι τεχνήσαιτο,
ὃς κεῖνον τελαμῶνα ἑῇ ἐγκάτθετο τέχνῃ.
ἔγνω δʼ αὖτʼ ἔμʼ ἐκεῖνος, ἐπεὶ ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
καί μʼ ὀλοφυρόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
ἆ δείλʼ, ἦ τινὰ καὶ σὺ κακὸν μόρον ἡγηλάζεις,
ὅν περ ἐγὼν ὀχέεσκον ὑπʼ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο.
Ζηνὸς μὲν πάϊς ἦα Κρονίονος, αὐτὰρ ὀιζὺν
εἶχον ἀπειρεσίην· μάλα γὰρ πολὺ χείρονι φωτὶ
δεδμήμην, ὁ δέ μοι χαλεποὺς ἐπετέλλετʼ ἀέθλους.
καί ποτέ μʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἔπεμψε κύνʼ ἄξοντʼ· οὐ γὰρ ἔτʼ ἄλλον
φράζετο τοῦδέ γέ μοι κρατερώτερον εἶναι ἄεθλον·
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼν ἀνένεικα καὶ ἤγαγον ἐξ Ἀίδαο·
Ἑρμείας δέ μʼ ἔπεμψεν ἰδὲ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
ὣς εἰπὼν ὁ μὲν αὖτις ἔβη δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω,
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν αὐτοῦ μένον ἔμπεδον, εἴ τις ἔτʼ ἔλθοι
ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, οἳ δὴ τὸ πρόσθεν ὄλοντο.
καί νύ κʼ ἔτι προτέρους ἴδον ἀνέρας, οὓς ἔθελόν περ,
Θησέα Πειρίθοόν τε, θεῶν ἐρικυδέα τέκνα·
ἀλλὰ πρὶν ἐπὶ ἔθνεʼ ἀγείρετο μυρία νεκρῶν
ἠχῇ θεσπεσίῃ· ἐμὲ δὲ χλωρὸν δέος ᾕρει,
μή μοι Γοργείην κεφαλὴν δεινοῖο πελώρου
ἐξ Ἀίδεω πέμψειεν ἀγαυὴ Περσεφόνεια.
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κιὼν ἐκέλευον ἑταίρους
αὐτούς τʼ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι.
οἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον.
τὴν δὲ κατʼ Ὠκεανὸν ποταμὸν φέρε κῦμα ῥόοιο,
πρῶτα μὲν εἰρεσίῃ, μετέπειτα δὲ κάλλιμος οὖρος.

### Book 12

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ ποταμοῖο λίπεν ῥόον Ὠκεανοῖο
νηῦς, ἀπὸ δʼ ἵκετο κῦμα θαλάσσης εὐρυπόροιο
νῆσόν τʼ Αἰαίην, ὅθι τʼ Ἠοῦς ἠριγενείης
οἰκία καὶ χοροί εἰσι καὶ ἀντολαὶ Ἠελίοιο,
νῆα μὲν ἔνθʼ ἐλθόντες ἐκέλσαμεν ἐν ψαμάθοισιν,
ἐκ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βῆμεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης·
ἔνθα δʼ ἀποβρίξαντες ἐμείναμεν Ἠῶ δῖαν.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
δὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάρους προΐειν ἐς δώματα Κίρκης
οἰσέμεναι νεκρόν, Ἐλπήνορα τεθνηῶτα.
φιτροὺς δʼ αἶψα ταμόντες, ὅθʼ ἀκροτάτη πρόεχʼ ἀκτή,
θάπτομεν ἀχνύμενοι θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ νεκρός τʼ ἐκάη καὶ τεύχεα νεκροῦ,
τύμβον χεύαντες καὶ ἐπὶ στήλην ἐρύσαντες
πήξαμεν ἀκροτάτῳ τύμβῳ ἐυῆρες ἐρετμόν.
ἡμεῖς μὲν τὰ ἕκαστα διείπομεν· οὐδʼ ἄρα Κίρκην
ἐξ Ἀίδεω ἐλθόντες ἐλήθομεν, ἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὦκα
ἦλθʼ ἐντυναμένη· ἅμα δʼ ἀμφίπολοι φέρον αὐτῇ
σῖτον καὶ κρέα πολλὰ καὶ αἴθοπα οἶνον ἐρυθρόν.
ἡ δʼ ἐν μέσσῳ στᾶσα μετηύδα δῖα θεάων·
σχέτλιοι, οἳ ζώοντες ὑπήλθετε δῶμʼ Ἀίδαο,
δισθανέες, ὅτε τʼ ἄλλοι ἅπαξ θνῄσκουσʼ ἄνθρωποι.
ἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ ἐσθίετε βρώμην καὶ πίνετε οἶνον
αὖθι πανημέριοι· ἅμα δʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφι
πλεύσεσθʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ δείξω ὁδὸν ἠδὲ ἕκαστα
σημανέω, ἵνα μή τι κακορραφίῃ ἀλεγεινῇ
ἢ ἁλὸς ἢ ἐπὶ γῆς ἀλγήσετε πῆμα παθόντες.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
ὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα
ἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τʼ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·
ἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθεν,
οἱ μὲν κοιμήσαντο παρὰ πρυμνήσια νηός,
ἡ δʼ ἐμὲ χειρὸς ἑλοῦσα φίλων ἀπονόσφιν ἑταίρων
εἷσέ τε καὶ προσέλεκτο καὶ ἐξερέεινεν ἕκαστα·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τῇ πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν κατέλεξα.
καὶ τότε δή μʼ ἐπέεσσι προσηύδα πότνια Κίρκη·
ταῦτα μὲν οὕτω πάντα πεπείρανται, σὺ δʼ ἄκουσον,
ὥς τοι ἐγὼν ἐρέω, μνήσει δέ σε καὶ θεὸς αὐτός.
Σειρῆνας μὲν πρῶτον ἀφίξεαι, αἵ ῥά τε πάντας
ἀνθρώπους θέλγουσιν, ὅτις σφεας εἰσαφίκηται.
ὅς τις ἀιδρείῃ πελάσῃ καὶ φθόγγον ἀκούσῃ
Σειρήνων, τῷ δʼ οὔ τι γυνὴ καὶ νήπια τέκνα
οἴκαδε νοστήσαντι παρίσταται οὐδὲ γάνυνται,
ἀλλά τε Σειρῆνες λιγυρῇ θέλγουσιν ἀοιδῇ
ἥμεναι ἐν λειμῶνι, πολὺς δʼ ἀμφʼ ὀστεόφιν θὶς
ἀνδρῶν πυθομένων, περὶ δὲ ῥινοὶ μινύθουσι.
ἀλλὰ παρεξελάαν, ἐπὶ δʼ οὔατʼ ἀλεῖψαι ἑταίρων
κηρὸν δεψήσας μελιηδέα, μή τις ἀκούσῃ
τῶν ἄλλων· ἀτὰρ αὐτὸς ἀκουέμεν αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα,
δησάντων σʼ ἐν νηὶ θοῇ χεῖράς τε πόδας τε
ὀρθὸν ἐν ἱστοπέδῃ, ἐκ δʼ αὐτοῦ πείρατʼ ἀνήφθω,
ὄφρα κε τερπόμενος ὄπʼ ἀκούσῃς Σειρήνοιιν.
εἰ δέ κε λίσσηαι ἑτάρους λῦσαί τε κελεύῃς,
οἱ δέ σʼ ἔτι πλεόνεσσι τότʼ ἐν δεσμοῖσι διδέντων.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ τάς γε παρὲξ ἐλάσωσιν ἑταῖροι,
ἔνθα τοι οὐκέτʼ ἔπειτα διηνεκέως ἀγορεύσω,
ὁπποτέρη δή τοι ὁδὸς ἔσσεται, ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτὸς
θυμῷ βουλεύειν· ἐρέω δέ τοι ἀμφοτέρωθεν.
ἔνθεν μὲν γὰρ πέτραι ἐπηρεφέες, προτὶ δʼ αὐτὰς
κῦμα μέγα ῥοχθεῖ κυανώπιδος Ἀμφιτρίτης·
Πλαγκτὰς δή τοι τάς γε θεοὶ μάκαρες καλέουσι.
τῇ μέν τʼ οὐδὲ ποτητὰ παρέρχεται οὐδὲ πέλειαι
τρήρωνες, ταί τʼ ἀμβροσίην Διὶ πατρὶ φέρουσιν,
ἀλλά τε καὶ τῶν αἰὲν ἀφαιρεῖται λὶς πέτρη·
ἀλλʼ ἄλλην ἐνίησι πατὴρ ἐναρίθμιον εἶναι.
τῇ δʼ οὔ πώ τις νηῦς φύγεν ἀνδρῶν, ἥ τις ἵκηται,
ἀλλά θʼ ὁμοῦ πίνακάς τε νεῶν καὶ σώματα φωτῶν
κύμαθʼ ἁλὸς φορέουσι πυρός τʼ ὀλοοῖο θύελλαι.
οἴη δὴ κείνη γε παρέπλω ποντοπόρος νηῦς,
Ἀργὼ πᾶσι μέλουσα, παρʼ Αἰήταο πλέουσα.
καὶ νύ κε τὴν ἔνθʼ ὦκα βάλεν μεγάλας ποτὶ πέτρας,
ἀλλʼ Ἥρη παρέπεμψεν, ἐπεὶ φίλος ἦεν Ἰήσων.
οἱ δὲ δύω σκόπελοι ὁ μὲν οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἱκάνει
ὀξείῃ κορυφῇ, νεφέλη δέ μιν ἀμφιβέβηκε
κυανέη· τὸ μὲν οὔ ποτʼ ἐρωεῖ, οὐδέ ποτʼ αἴθρη
κείνου ἔχει κορυφὴν οὔτʼ ἐν θέρει οὔτʼ ἐν ὀπώρῃ.
οὐδέ κεν ἀμβαίη βροτὸς ἀνὴρ οὐδʼ ἐπιβαίη,
οὐδʼ εἴ οἱ χεῖρές τε ἐείκοσι καὶ πόδες εἶεν·
πέτρη γὰρ λίς ἐστι, περιξεστῇ ἐικυῖα.
μέσσῳ δʼ ἐν σκοπέλῳ ἔστι σπέος ἠεροειδές,
πρὸς ζόφον εἰς Ἔρεβος τετραμμένον, ᾗ περ ἂν ὑμεῖς
νῆα παρὰ γλαφυρὴν ἰθύνετε, φαίδιμʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ.
οὐδέ κεν ἐκ νηὸς γλαφυρῆς αἰζήιος ἀνὴρ
τόξῳ ὀιστεύσας κοῖλον σπέος εἰσαφίκοιτο.
ἔνθα δʼ ἐνὶ Σκύλλη ναίει δεινὸν λελακυῖα.
τῆς ἦ τοι φωνὴ μὲν ὅση σκύλακος νεογιλῆς
γίγνεται, αὐτὴ δʼ αὖτε πέλωρ κακόν· οὐδέ κέ τίς μιν
γηθήσειεν ἰδών, οὐδʼ εἰ θεὸς ἀντιάσειεν.
τῆς ἦ τοι πόδες εἰσὶ δυώδεκα πάντες ἄωροι,
ἓξ δέ τέ οἱ δειραὶ περιμήκεες, ἐν δὲ ἑκάστῃ
σμερδαλέη κεφαλή, ἐν δὲ τρίστοιχοι ὀδόντες
πυκνοὶ καὶ θαμέες, πλεῖοι μέλανος θανάτοιο.
μέσση μέν τε κατὰ σπείους κοίλοιο δέδυκεν,
ἔξω δʼ ἐξίσχει κεφαλὰς δεινοῖο βερέθρου,
αὐτοῦ δʼ ἰχθυάᾳ, σκόπελον περιμαιμώωσα,
δελφῖνάς τε κύνας τε, καὶ εἴ ποθι μεῖζον ἕλῃσι
κῆτος, ἃ μυρία βόσκει ἀγάστονος Ἀμφιτρίτη.
τῇ δʼ οὔ πώ ποτε ναῦται ἀκήριοι εὐχετόωνται
παρφυγέειν σὺν νηί· φέρει δέ τε κρατὶ ἑκάστῳ
φῶτʼ ἐξαρπάξασα νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο.
τὸν δʼ ἕτερον σκόπελον χθαμαλώτερον ὄψει, Ὀδυσσεῦ.
πλησίον ἀλλήλων· καί κεν διοϊστεύσειας.
τῷ δʼ ἐν ἐρινεὸς ἔστι μέγας, φύλλοισι τεθηλώς·
τῷ δʼ ὑπὸ δῖα Χάρυβδις ἀναρροιβδεῖ μέλαν ὕδωρ.
τρὶς μὲν γάρ τʼ ἀνίησιν ἐπʼ ἤματι, τρὶς δʼ ἀναροιβδεῖ
δεινόν· μὴ σύ γε κεῖθι τύχοις, ὅτε ῥοιβδήσειεν·
οὐ γάρ κεν ῥύσαιτό σʼ ὑπὲκ κακοῦ οὐδʼ ἐνοσίχθων.
ἀλλὰ μάλα Σκύλλης σκοπέλῳ πεπλημένος ὦκα
νῆα παρὲξ ἐλάαν, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτερόν ἐστιν
ἓξ ἑτάρους ἐν νηὶ ποθήμεναι ἢ ἅμα πάντας.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
εἰ δʼ ἄγε δή μοι τοῦτο, θεά, νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες,
εἴ πως τὴν ὀλοὴν μὲν ὑπεκπροφύγοιμι Χάρυβδιν,
τὴν δέ κʼ ἀμυναίμην, ὅτε μοι σίνοιτό γʼ ἑταίρους.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·
σχέτλιε, καὶ δὴ αὖ τοι πολεμήια ἔργα μέμηλε
καὶ πόνος· οὐδὲ θεοῖσιν ὑπείξεαι ἀθανάτοισιν;
ἡ δέ τοι οὐ θνητή, ἀλλʼ ἀθάνατον κακόν ἐστι,
δεινόν τʼ ἀργαλέον τε καὶ ἄγριον οὐδὲ μαχητόν·
οὐδέ τις ἔστʼ ἀλκή· φυγέειν κάρτιστον ἀπʼ αὐτῆς.
ἢν γὰρ δηθύνῃσθα κορυσσόμενος παρὰ πέτρῃ,
δείδω, μή σʼ ἐξαῦτις ἐφορμηθεῖσα κίχῃσι
τόσσῃσιν κεφαλῇσι, τόσους δʼ ἐκ φῶτας ἕληται.
ἀλλὰ μάλα σφοδρῶς ἐλάαν, βωστρεῖν δὲ Κράταιιν,
μητέρα τῆς Σκύλλης, ἥ μιν τέκε πῆμα βροτοῖσιν·
ἥ μιν ἔπειτʼ ἀποπαύσει ἐς ὕστερον ὁρμηθῆναι.
Θρινακίην δʼ ἐς νῆσον ἀφίξεαι· ἔνθα δὲ πολλαὶ
βόσκοντʼ Ἠελίοιο βόες καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,
ἑπτὰ βοῶν ἀγέλαι, τόσα δʼ οἰῶν πώεα καλά,
πεντήκοντα δʼ ἕκαστα. γόνος δʼ οὐ γίγνεται αὐτῶν,
οὐδέ ποτε φθινύθουσι. θεαὶ δʼ ἐπιποιμένες εἰσίν,
νύμφαι ἐυπλόκαμοι, Φαέθουσά τε Λαμπετίη τε,
ἃς τέκεν Ἠελίῳ Ὑπερίονι δῖα Νέαιρα.
τὰς μὲν ἄρα θρέψασα τεκοῦσά τε πότνια μήτηρ
Θρινακίην ἐς νῆσον ἀπῴκισε τηλόθι ναίειν,
μῆλα φυλασσέμεναι πατρώια καὶ ἕλικας βοῦς.
τὰς εἰ μέν κʼ ἀσινέας ἐάᾳς νόστου τε μέδηαι,
ἦ τʼ ἂν ἔτʼ εἰς Ἰθάκην κακά περ πάσχοντες ἵκοισθε·
εἰ δέ κε σίνηαι, τότε τοι τεκμαίρομʼ ὄλεθρον,
νηί τε καὶ ἑτάροις· αὐτὸς δʼ εἴ πέρ κεν ἀλύξῃς,
ὀψὲ κακῶς νεῖαι, ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτίκα δὲ χρυσόθρονος ἤλυθεν Ἠώς.
ἡ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀνὰ νῆσον ἀπέστιχε δῖα θεάων·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆα κιὼν ὤτρυνον ἑταίρους
αὐτούς τʼ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι·
οἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον.
ἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἡμῖν δʼ αὖ κατόπισθε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο
ἴκμενον οὖρον ἵει πλησίστιον, ἐσθλὸν ἑταῖρον,
Κίρκη ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα.
αὐτίκα δʼ ὅπλα ἕκαστα πονησάμενοι κατὰ νῆα
ἥμεθα· τὴν δʼ ἄνεμός τε κυβερνήτης τʼ ἴθυνε.
δὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάροισι μετηύδων ἀχνύμενος κῆρ·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐ γὰρ χρὴ ἕνα ἴδμεναι οὐδὲ δύʼ οἴους
θέσφαθʼ ἅ μοι Κίρκη μυθήσατο, δῖα θεάων·
ἀλλʼ ἐρέω μὲν ἐγών, ἵνα εἰδότες ἤ κε θάνωμεν
ἤ κεν ἀλευάμενοι θάνατον καὶ κῆρα φύγοιμεν.
Σειρήνων μὲν πρῶτον ἀνώγει θεσπεσιάων
φθόγγον ἀλεύασθαι καὶ λειμῶνʼ ἀνθεμόεντα.
οἶον ἔμʼ ἠνώγει ὄπʼ ἀκουέμεν· ἀλλά με δεσμῷ
δήσατʼ ἐν ἀργαλέῳ, ὄφρʼ ἔμπεδον αὐτόθι μίμνω,
ὀρθὸν ἐν ἱστοπέδῃ, ἐκ δʼ αὐτοῦ πείρατʼ ἀνήφθω.
εἰ δέ κε λίσσωμαι ὑμέας λῦσαί τε κελεύω,
ὑμεῖς δὲ πλεόνεσσι τότʼ ἐν δεσμοῖσι πιέζειν.
ἦ τοι ἐγὼ τὰ ἕκαστα λέγων ἑτάροισι πίφαυσκον·
τόφρα δὲ καρπαλίμως ἐξίκετο νηῦς ἐυεργὴς
νῆσον Σειρήνοιιν· ἔπειγε γὰρ οὖρος ἀπήμων.
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἄνεμος μὲν ἐπαύσατο ἠδὲ γαλήνη
ἔπλετο νηνεμίη, κοίμησε δὲ κύματα δαίμων.
ἀνστάντες δʼ ἕταροι νεὸς ἱστία μηρύσαντο
καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν νηὶ γλαφυρῇ θέσαν, οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ἐρετμὰ
ἑζόμενοι λεύκαινον ὕδωρ ξεστῇς ἐλάτῃσιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ κηροῖο μέγαν τροχὸν ὀξέι χαλκῷ
τυτθὰ διατμήξας χερσὶ στιβαρῇσι πίεζον·
αἶψα δʼ ἰαίνετο κηρός, ἐπεὶ κέλετο μεγάλη ἲς
Ἠελίου τʼ αὐγὴ Ὑπεριονίδαο ἄνακτος·
ἑξείης δʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐπʼ οὔατα πᾶσιν ἄλειψα.
οἱ δʼ ἐν νηί μʼ ἔδησαν ὁμοῦ χεῖράς τε πόδας τε
ὀρθὸν ἐν ἱστοπέδῃ, ἐκ δʼ αὐτοῦ πείρατʼ ἀνῆπτον·
αὐτοὶ δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε τόσσον ἀπῆμεν ὅσον τε γέγωνε βοήσας,
ῥίμφα διώκοντες, τὰς δʼ οὐ λάθεν ὠκύαλος νηῦς
ἐγγύθεν ὀρνυμένη, λιγυρὴν δʼ ἔντυνον ἀοιδήν·
δεῦρʼ ἄγʼ ἰών, πολύαινʼ Ὀδυσεῦ, μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,
νῆα κατάστησον, ἵνα νωιτέρην ὄπ ἀκούσῃς.
οὐ γάρ πώ τις τῇδε παρήλασε νηὶ μελαίνῃ,
πρίν γʼ ἡμέων μελίγηρυν ἀπὸ στομάτων ὄπʼ ἀκοῦσαι,
ἀλλʼ ὅ γε τερψάμενος νεῖται καὶ πλείονα εἰδώς.
ἴδμεν γάρ τοι πάνθʼ ὅσʼ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ εὐρείῃ
Ἀργεῖοι Τρῶές τε θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησαν,
ἴδμεν δʼ, ὅσσα γένηται ἐπὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ.
ὣς φάσαν ἱεῖσαι ὄπα κάλλιμον· αὐτὰρ ἐμὸν κῆρ
ἤθελʼ ἀκουέμεναι, λῦσαί τʼ ἐκέλευον ἑταίρους
ὀφρύσι νευστάζων· οἱ δὲ προπεσόντες ἔρεσσον.
αὐτίκα δʼ ἀνστάντες Περιμήδης Εὐρύλοχός τε
πλείοσί μʼ ἐν δεσμοῖσι δέον μᾶλλόν τε πίεζον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τάς γε παρήλασαν, οὐδʼ ἔτʼ ἔπειτα
φθογγῆς Σειρήνων ἠκούομεν οὐδέ τʼ ἀοιδῆς,
αἶψʼ ἀπὸ κηρὸν ἕλοντο ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι,
ὅν σφιν ἐπʼ ὠσὶν ἄλειψʼ, ἐμέ τʼ ἐκ δεσμῶν ἀνέλυσαν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἐλείπομεν, αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα
καπνὸν καὶ μέγα κῦμα ἴδον καὶ δοῦπον ἄκουσα.
τῶν δʼ ἄρα δεισάντων ἐκ χειρῶν ἔπτατʼ ἐρετμά,
βόμβησαν δʼ ἄρα πάντα κατὰ ῥόον· ἔσχετο δʼ αὐτοῦ
νηῦς, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτʼ ἐρετμὰ προήκεα χερσὶν ἔπειγον.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ διὰ νηὸς ἰὼν ὤτρυνον ἑταίρους
μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι παρασταδὸν ἄνδρα ἕκαστον·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐ γάρ πώ τι κακῶν ἀδαήμονές εἰμεν·
οὐ μὲν δὴ τόδε μεῖζον ἕπει κακόν, ἢ ὅτε Κύκλωψ
εἴλει ἐνὶ σπῆι γλαφυρῷ κρατερῆφι βίηφιν·
ἀλλὰ καὶ ἔνθεν ἐμῇ ἀρετῇ, βουλῇ τε νόῳ τε,
ἐκφύγομεν, καί που τῶνδε μνήσεσθαι ὀίω.
νῦν δʼ ἄγεθʼ, ὡς ἂν ἐγὼ εἴπω, πειθώμεθα πάντες.
ὑμεῖς μὲν κώπῃσιν ἁλὸς ῥηγμῖνα βαθεῖαν
τύπτετε κληίδεσσιν ἐφήμενοι, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς
δώῃ τόνδε γʼ ὄλεθρον ὑπεκφυγέειν καὶ ἀλύξαι·
σοὶ δέ, κυβερνῆθʼ, ὧδʼ ἐπιτέλλομαι· ἀλλʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
βάλλευ, ἐπεὶ νηὸς γλαφυρῆς οἰήια νωμᾷς.
τούτου μὲν καπνοῦ καὶ κύματος ἐκτὸς ἔεργε
νῆα, σὺ δὲ σκοπέλου ἐπιμαίεο, μή σε λάθῃσι
κεῖσʼ ἐξορμήσασα καὶ ἐς κακὸν ἄμμε βάλῃσθα.
ὣς ἐφάμην, οἱ δʼ ὦκα ἐμοῖς ἐπέεσσι πίθοντο.
Σκύλλην δʼ οὐκέτʼ ἐμυθεόμην, ἄπρηκτον ἀνίην,
μή πώς μοι δείσαντες ἀπολλήξειαν ἑταῖροι
εἰρεσίης, ἐντὸς δὲ πυκάζοιεν σφέας αὐτούς.
καὶ τότε δὴ Κίρκης μὲν ἐφημοσύνης ἀλεγεινῆς
λανθανόμην, ἐπεὶ οὔ τί μʼ ἀνώγει θωρήσσεσθαι·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καταδὺς κλυτὰ τεύχεα καὶ δύο δοῦρε
μάκρʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἑλὼν εἰς ἴκρια νηὸς ἔβαινον
πρῴρης· ἔνθεν γάρ μιν ἐδέγμην πρῶτα φανεῖσθαι
Σκύλλην πετραίην, ἥ μοι φέρε πῆμʼ ἑτάροισιν.
οὐδέ πῃ ἀθρῆσαι δυνάμην, ἔκαμον δέ μοι ὄσσε
πάντῃ παπταίνοντι πρὸς ἠεροειδέα πέτρην.
ἡμεῖς μὲν στεινωπὸν ἀνεπλέομεν γοόωντες·
ἔνθεν μὲν Σκύλλη, ἑτέρωθι δὲ δῖα Χάρυβδις
δεινὸν ἀνερροίβδησε θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.
ἦ τοι ὅτʼ ἐξεμέσειε, λέβης ὣς ἐν πυρὶ πολλῷ
πᾶσʼ ἀναμορμύρεσκε κυκωμένη, ὑψόσε δʼ ἄχνη
ἄκροισι σκοπέλοισιν ἐπʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἔπιπτεν·
ἀλλʼ ὅτʼ ἀναβρόξειε θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ,
πᾶσʼ ἔντοσθε φάνεσκε κυκωμένη, ἀμφὶ δὲ πέτρη
δεινὸν ἐβεβρύχει, ὑπένερθε δὲ γαῖα φάνεσκε
ψάμμῳ κυανέη· τοὺς δὲ χλωρὸν δέος ᾕρει.
ἡμεῖς μὲν πρὸς τὴν ἴδομεν δείσαντες ὄλεθρον·
τόφρα δέ μοι Σκύλλη γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑταίρους
ἓξ ἕλεθʼ, οἳ χερσίν τε βίηφί τε φέρτατοι ἦσαν.
σκεψάμενος δʼ ἐς νῆα θοὴν ἅμα καὶ μεθʼ ἑταίρους
ἤδη τῶν ἐνόησα πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὕπερθεν
ὑψόσʼ ἀειρομένων· ἐμὲ δὲ φθέγγοντο καλεῦντες
ἐξονομακλήδην, τότε γʼ ὕστατον, ἀχνύμενοι κῆρ.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἐπὶ προβόλῳ ἁλιεὺς περιμήκεϊ ῥάβδῳ
ἰχθύσι τοῖς ὀλίγοισι δόλον κατὰ εἴδατα βάλλων
ἐς πόντον προΐησι βοὸς κέρας ἀγραύλοιο,
ἀσπαίροντα δʼ ἔπειτα λαβὼν ἔρριψε θύραζε,
ὣς οἵ γʼ ἀσπαίροντες ἀείροντο προτὶ πέτρας·
αὐτοῦ δʼ εἰνὶ θύρῃσι κατήσθιε κεκληγῶτας
χεῖρας ἐμοὶ ὀρέγοντας ἐν αἰνῇ δηιοτῆτι·
οἴκτιστον δὴ κεῖνο ἐμοῖς ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσι
πάντων, ὅσσʼ ἐμόγησα πόρους ἁλὸς ἐξερεείνων.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πέτρας φύγομεν δεινήν τε Χάρυβδιν
Σκύλλην τʼ, αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα θεοῦ ἐς ἀμύμονα νῆσον
ἱκόμεθʼ· ἔνθα δʼ ἔσαν καλαὶ βόες εὐρυμέτωποι,
πολλὰ δὲ ἴφια μῆλʼ Ὑπερίονος Ἠελίοιο.
δὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἔτι πόντῳ ἐὼν ἐν νηὶ μελαίνῃ
μυκηθμοῦ τʼ ἤκουσα βοῶν αὐλιζομενάων
οἰῶν τε βληχήν· καί μοι ἔπος ἔμπεσε θυμῷ
μάντηος ἀλαοῦ, Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο,
Κίρκης τʼ Αἰαίης, ἥ μοι μάλα πόλλʼ ἐπέτελλε
νῆσον ἀλεύασθαι τερψιμβρότου Ἠελίοιο.
δὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἑτάροισι μετηύδων ἀχνύμενος κῆρ·
κέκλυτέ μευ μύθων κακά περ πάσχοντες ἑταῖροι,
ὄφρʼ ὑμῖν εἴπω μαντήια Τειρεσίαο
Κίρκης τʼ Αἰαίης, ἥ μοι μάλα πόλλʼ ἐπέτελλε
νῆσον ἀλεύασθαι τερψιμβρότου Ἠελίοιο·
ἔνθα γὰρ αἰνότατον κακὸν ἔμμεναι ἄμμιν ἔφασκεν.
ἀλλὰ παρὲξ τὴν νῆσον ἐλαύνετε νῆα μέλαιναν.
ὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δὲ κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ.
αὐτίκα δʼ Εὐρύλοχος στυγερῷ μʼ ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·
σχέτλιός εἰς, Ὀδυσεῦ· περί τοι μένος, οὐδέ τι γυῖα
κάμνεις· ἦ ῥά νυ σοί γε σιδήρεα πάντα τέτυκται,
ὅς ῥʼ ἑτάρους καμάτῳ ἁδηκότας ἠδὲ καὶ ὕπνῳ
οὐκ ἐάᾳς γαίης ἐπιβήμεναι, ἔνθα κεν αὖτε
νήσῳ ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ λαρὸν τετυκοίμεθα δόρπον,
ἀλλʼ αὔτως διὰ νύκτα θοὴν ἀλάλησθαι ἄνωγας
νήσου ἀποπλαγχθέντας ἐν ἠεροειδέι πόντῳ.
ἐκ νυκτῶν δʼ ἄνεμοι χαλεποί, δηλήματα νηῶν,
γίγνονται· πῇ κέν τις ὑπεκφύγοι αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον,
ἤν πως ἐξαπίνης ἔλθῃ ἀνέμοιο θύελλα,
ἢ Νότου ἢ Ζεφύροιο δυσαέος, οἵ τε μάλιστα
νῆα διαρραίουσι θεῶν ἀέκητι ἀνάκτων.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι νῦν μὲν πειθώμεθα νυκτὶ μελαίνῃ
δόρπον θʼ ὁπλισόμεσθα θοῇ παρὰ νηὶ μένοντες,
ἠῶθεν δʼ ἀναβάντες ἐνήσομεν εὐρέι πόντῳ.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Εὐρύλοχος, ἐπὶ δʼ ᾔνεον ἄλλοι ἑταῖροι.
καὶ τότε δὴ γίγνωσκον ὃ δὴ κακὰ μήδετο δαίμων,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·
Εὐρύλοχʼ, ἦ μάλα δή με βιάζετε μοῦνον ἐόντα.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν μοι πάντες ὀμόσσατε καρτερὸν ὅρκον·
εἴ κέ τινʼ ἠὲ βοῶν ἀγέλην ἢ πῶυ μέγʼ οἰῶν
εὕρωμεν, μή πού τις ἀτασθαλίῃσι κακῇσιν
ἢ βοῦν ἠέ τι μῆλον ἀποκτάνῃ· ἀλλὰ ἕκηλοι
ἐσθίετε βρώμην, τὴν ἀθανάτη πόρε Κίρκη.
ὣς ἐφάμην, οἱ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀπώμνυον, ὡς ἐκέλευον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσάν τε τελεύτησάν τε τὸν ὅρκον,
στήσαμεν ἐν λιμένι γλαφυρῷ ἐυεργέα νῆα
ἄγχʼ ὕδατος γλυκεροῖο, καὶ ἐξαπέβησαν ἑταῖροι
νηός, ἔπειτα δὲ δόρπον ἐπισταμένως τετύκοντο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
μνησάμενοι δὴ ἔπειτα φίλους ἔκλαιον ἑταίρους,
οὓς ἔφαγε Σκύλλη γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑλοῦσα·
κλαιόντεσσι δὲ τοῖσιν ἐπήλυθε νήδυμος ὕπνος.
ἦμος δὲ τρίχα νυκτὸς ἔην, μετὰ δʼ ἄστρα βεβήκει,
ὦρσεν ἔπι ζαῆν ἄνεμον νεφεληγερέτα Ζεὺς
λαίλαπι θεσπεσίῃ, σὺν δὲ νεφέεσσι κάλυψε
γαῖαν ὁμοῦ καὶ πόντον· ὀρώρει δʼ οὐρανόθεν νύξ.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
νῆα μὲν ὡρμίσαμεν κοῖλον σπέος εἰσερύσαντες.
ἔνθα δʼ ἔσαν νυμφέων καλοὶ χοροὶ ἠδὲ θόωκοι·
καὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἀγορὴν θέμενος μετὰ μῦθον ἔειπον·
ὦ φίλοι, ἐν γὰρ νηὶ θοῇ βρῶσίς τε πόσις τε
ἔστιν, τῶν δὲ βοῶν ἀπεχώμεθα, μή τι πάθωμεν·
δεινοῦ γὰρ θεοῦ αἵδε βόες καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,
Ἠελίου, ὃς πάντʼ ἐφορᾷ καὶ πάντʼ ἐπακούει.
ὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
μῆνα δὲ πάντʼ ἄλληκτος ἄη Νότος, οὐδέ τις ἄλλος
γίγνετʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀνέμων εἰ μὴ Εὖρός τε Νότος τε.
οἱ δʼ ἧος μὲν σῖτον ἔχον καὶ οἶνον ἐρυθρόν,
τόφρα βοῶν ἀπέχοντο λιλαιόμενοι βιότοιο.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ νηὸς ἐξέφθιτο ἤια πάντα,
καὶ δὴ ἄγρην ἐφέπεσκον ἀλητεύοντες ἀνάγκῃ,
ἰχθῦς ὄρνιθάς τε, φίλας ὅ τι χεῖρας ἵκοιτο,
γναμπτοῖς ἀγκίστροισιν, ἔτειρε δὲ γαστέρα λιμός·
δὴ τότʼ ἐγὼν ἀνὰ νῆσον ἀπέστιχον, ὄφρα θεοῖσιν
εὐξαίμην, εἴ τίς μοι ὁδὸν φήνειε νέεσθαι.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ διὰ νήσου ἰὼν ἤλυξα ἑταίρους,
χεῖρας νιψάμενος, ὅθʼ ἐπὶ σκέπας ἦν ἀνέμοιο,
ἠρώμην πάντεσσι θεοῖς οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν·
οἱ δʼ ἄρα μοι γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔχευαν.
Εὐρύλοχος δʼ ἑτάροισι κακῆς ἐξήρχετο βουλῆς·
κέκλυτέ μευ μύθων κακά περ πάσχοντες ἑταῖροι.
πάντες μὲν στυγεροὶ θάνατοι δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι,
λιμῷ δʼ οἴκτιστον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ, Ἠελίοιο βοῶν ἐλάσαντες ἀρίστας
ῥέξομεν ἀθανάτοισι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.
εἰ δέ κεν εἰς Ἰθάκην ἀφικοίμεθα, πατρίδα γαῖαν,
αἶψά κεν Ἠελίῳ Ὑπερίονι πίονα νηὸν
τεύξομεν, ἐν δέ κε θεῖμεν ἀγάλματα πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλά.
εἰ δὲ χολωσάμενός τι βοῶν ὀρθοκραιράων
νῆʼ ἐθέλῃ ὀλέσαι, ἐπὶ δʼ ἕσπωνται θεοὶ ἄλλοι,
βούλομʼ ἅπαξ πρὸς κῦμα χανὼν ἀπὸ θυμὸν ὀλέσσαι,
ἢ δηθὰ στρεύγεσθαι ἐὼν ἐν νήσῳ ἐρήμῃ.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Εὐρύλοχος, ἐπὶ δʼ ᾔνεον ἄλλοι ἑταῖροι.
αὐτίκα δʼ Ἠελίοιο βοῶν ἐλάσαντες ἀρίστας
ἐγγύθεν, οὐ γὰρ τῆλε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο
βοσκέσκονθʼ ἕλικες καλαὶ βόες εὐρυμέτωποι·
τὰς δὲ περίστησάν τε καὶ εὐχετόωντο θεοῖσιν,
φύλλα δρεψάμενοι τέρενα δρυὸς ὑψικόμοιο·
οὐ γὰρ ἔχον κρῖ λευκὸν ἐυσσέλμου ἐπὶ νηός.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ εὔξαντο καὶ ἔσφαξαν καὶ ἔδειραν,
μηρούς τʼ ἐξέταμον κατά τε κνίσῃ ἐκάλυψαν
δίπτυχα ποιήσαντες, ἐπʼ αὐτῶν δʼ ὠμοθέτησαν.
οὐδʼ εἶχον μέθυ λεῖψαι ἐπʼ αἰθομένοις ἱεροῖσιν,
ἀλλʼ ὕδατι σπένδοντες ἐπώπτων ἔγκατα πάντα.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κατὰ μῆρʼ ἐκάη καὶ σπλάγχνα πάσαντο,
μίστυλλόν τʼ ἄρα τἆλλα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειραν.
καὶ τότε μοι βλεφάρων ἐξέσσυτο νήδυμος ὕπνος,
βῆν δʼ ἰέναι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ σχεδὸν ἦα κιὼν νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης,
καὶ τότε με κνίσης ἀμφήλυθεν ἡδὺς ἀυτμή.
οἰμώξας δὲ θεοῖσι μέγʼ ἀθανάτοισι γεγώνευν·
Ζεῦ πάτερ ἠδʼ ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,
ἦ με μάλʼ εἰς ἄτην κοιμήσατε νηλέι ὕπνῳ.
οἱ δʼ ἕταροι μέγα ἔργον ἐμητίσαντο μένοντες.
ὠκέα δʼ Ἠελίῳ Ὑπερίονι ἄγγελος ἦλθε
Λαμπετίη τανύπεπλος, ὅ οἱ βόας ἔκταμεν ἡμεῖς.
αὐτίκα δʼ ἀθανάτοισι μετηύδα χωόμενος κῆρ·
Ζεῦ πάτερ ἠδʼ ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,
τῖσαι δὴ ἑτάρους Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
οἵ μευ βοῦς ἔκτειναν ὑπέρβιον, ᾗσιν ἐγώ γε
χαίρεσκον μὲν ἰὼν εἰς οὐρανὸν ἀστερόεντα,
ἠδʼ ὁπότʼ ἂψ ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἀπʼ οὐρανόθεν προτραποίμην.
εἰ δέ μοι οὐ τίσουσι βοῶν ἐπιεικέʼ ἀμοιβήν,
δύσομαι εἰς Ἀίδαο καὶ ἐν νεκύεσσι φαείνω.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
Ἠέλιʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν σὺ μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι φάεινε
καὶ θνητοῖσι βροτοῖσιν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν·
τῶν δέ κʼ ἐγὼ τάχα νῆα θοὴν ἀργῆτι κεραυνῷ
τυτθὰ βαλὼν κεάσαιμι μέσῳ ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ.
ταῦτα δʼ ἐγὼν ἤκουσα Καλυψοῦς ἠυκόμοιο·
ἡ δʼ ἔφη Ἑρμείαο διακτόρου αὐτὴ ἀκοῦσαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
νείκεον ἄλλοθεν ἄλλον ἐπισταδόν, οὐδέ τι μῆχος
εὑρέμεναι δυνάμεσθα, βόες δʼ ἀποτέθνασαν ἤδη.
τοῖσιν δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα θεοὶ τέραα προύφαινον·
εἷρπον μὲν ῥινοί, κρέα δʼ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσι μεμύκει,
ὀπταλέα τε καὶ ὠμά, βοῶν δʼ ὣς γίγνετο φωνή.
ἑξῆμαρ μὲν ἔπειτα ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι
δαίνυντʼ Ἠελίοιο βοῶν ἐλάσαντες ἀρίστας·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἕβδομον ἦμαρ ἐπὶ Ζεὺς θῆκε Κρονίων,
καὶ τότʼ ἔπειτʼ ἄνεμος μὲν ἐπαύσατο λαίλαπι θύων,
ἡμεῖς δʼ αἶψʼ ἀναβάντες ἐνήκαμεν εὐρέι πόντῳ,
ἱστὸν στησάμενοι ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λεύκʼ ἐρύσαντες.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἐλείπομεν, οὐδέ τις ἄλλη
φαίνετο γαιάων, ἀλλʼ οὐρανὸς ἠδὲ θάλασσα,
δὴ τότε κυανέην νεφέλην ἔστησε Κρονίων
νηὸς ὕπερ γλαφυρῆς, ἤχλυσε δὲ πόντος ὑπʼ αὐτῆς.
ἡ δʼ ἔθει οὐ μάλα πολλὸν ἐπὶ χρόνον· αἶψα γὰρ ἦλθε
κεκληγὼς Ζέφυρος μεγάλῃ σὺν λαίλαπι θύων,
ἱστοῦ δὲ προτόνους ἔρρηξʼ ἀνέμοιο θύελλα
ἀμφοτέρους· ἱστὸς δʼ ὀπίσω πέσεν, ὅπλα τε πάντα
εἰς ἄντλον κατέχυνθʼ. ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρυμνῇ ἐνὶ νηὶ
πλῆξε κυβερνήτεω κεφαλήν, σὺν δʼ ὀστέʼ ἄραξε
πάντʼ ἄμυδις κεφαλῆς· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ ἀρνευτῆρι ἐοικὼς
κάππεσʼ ἀπʼ ἰκριόφιν, λίπε δʼ ὀστέα θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
Ζεὺς δʼ ἄμυδις βρόντησε καὶ ἔμβαλε νηὶ κεραυνόν·
ἡ δʼ ἐλελίχθη πᾶσα Διὸς πληγεῖσα κεραυνῷ,
ἐν δὲ θεείου πλῆτο, πέσον δʼ ἐκ νηὸς ἑταῖροι.
οἱ δὲ κορώνῃσιν ἴκελοι περὶ νῆα μέλαιναν
κύμασιν ἐμφορέοντο, θεὸς δʼ ἀποαίνυτο νόστον.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ διὰ νηὸς ἐφοίτων, ὄφρʼ ἀπὸ τοίχους
λῦσε κλύδων τρόπιος, τὴν δὲ ψιλὴν φέρε κῦμα,
ἐκ δέ οἱ ἱστὸν ἄραξε ποτὶ τρόπιν. αὐτὰρ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ
ἐπίτονος βέβλητο, βοὸς ῥινοῖο τετευχώς·
τῷ ῥʼ ἄμφω συνέεργον, ὁμοῦ τρόπιν ἠδὲ καὶ ἱστόν,
ἑζόμενος δʼ ἐπὶ τοῖς φερόμην ὀλοοῖς ἀνέμοισιν.
ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι Ζέφυρος μὲν ἐπαύσατο λαίλαπι θύων,
ἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ Νότος ὦκα, φέρων ἐμῷ ἄλγεα θυμῷ,
ὄφρʼ ἔτι τὴν ὀλοὴν ἀναμετρήσαιμι Χάρυβδιν.
παννύχιος φερόμην, ἅμα δʼ ἠελίῳ ἀνιόντι
ἦλθον ἐπὶ Σκύλλης σκόπελον δεινήν τε Χάρυβδιν.
ἡ μὲν ἀνερροίβδησε θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ ποτὶ μακρὸν ἐρινεὸν ὑψόσʼ ἀερθείς,
τῷ προσφὺς ἐχόμην ὡς νυκτερίς. οὐδέ πῃ εἶχον
οὔτε στηρίξαι ποσὶν ἔμπεδον οὔτʼ ἐπιβῆναι·
ῥίζαι γὰρ ἑκὰς εἶχον, ἀπήωροι δʼ ἔσαν ὄζοι,
μακροί τε μεγάλοι τε, κατεσκίαον δὲ Χάρυβδιν.
νωλεμέως δʼ ἐχόμην, ὄφρʼ ἐξεμέσειεν ὀπίσσω
ἱστὸν καὶ τρόπιν αὖτις· ἐελδομένῳ δέ μοι ἦλθον
ὄψʼ· ἦμος δʼ ἐπὶ δόρπον ἀνὴρ ἀγορῆθεν ἀνέστη
κρίνων νείκεα πολλὰ δικαζομένων αἰζηῶν,
τῆμος δὴ τά γε δοῦρα Χαρύβδιος ἐξεφαάνθη.
ἧκα δʼ ἐγὼ καθύπερθε πόδας καὶ χεῖρε φέρεσθαι,
μέσσῳ δʼ ἐνδούπησα παρὲξ περιμήκεα δοῦρα,
ἑζόμενος δʼ ἐπὶ τοῖσι διήρεσα χερσὶν ἐμῇσι.
Σκύλλην δʼ οὐκέτʼ ἔασε πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε
εἰσιδέειν· οὐ γάρ κεν ὑπέκφυγον αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.
ἔνθεν δʼ ἐννῆμαρ φερόμην, δεκάτῃ δέ με νυκτὶ
νῆσον ἐς Ὠγυγίην πέλασαν θεοί, ἔνθα Καλυψὼ
ναίει ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα,
ἥ μʼ ἐφίλει τʼ ἐκόμει τε. τί τοι τάδε μυθολογεύω;
ἤδη γάρ τοι χθιζὸς ἐμυθεόμην ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
σοί τε καὶ ἰφθίμῃ ἀλόχῳ· ἐχθρὸν δέ μοί ἐστιν
αὖτις ἀριζήλως εἰρημένα μυθολογεύειν.

### Book 13

ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ,
κηληθμῷ δʼ ἔσχοντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
ὦ Ὀδυσεῦ, ἐπεὶ ἵκευ ἐμὸν ποτὶ χαλκοβατὲς δῶ,
ὑψερεφές, τῷ σʼ οὔ τι παλιμπλαγχθέντα γʼ ὀΐω
ἂψ ἀπονοστήσειν, εἰ καὶ μάλα πολλὰ πέπονθας.
ὑμέων δʼ ἀνδρὶ ἑκάστῳ ἐφιέμενος τάδε εἴρω,
ὅσσοι ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γερούσιον αἴθοπα οἶνον
αἰεὶ πίνετʼ ἐμοῖσιν, ἀκουάζεσθε δʼ ἀοιδοῦ.
εἵματα μὲν δὴ ξείνῳ ἐϋξέστῃ ἐνὶ χηλῷ
κεῖται καὶ χρυσὸς πολυδαίδαλος ἄλλα τε πάντα
δῶρʼ, ὅσα Φαιήκων βουληφόροι ἐνθάδʼ ἔνεικαν·
ἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ δῶμεν τρίποδα μέγαν ἠδὲ λέβητα
ἀνδρακάς· ἡμεῖς δʼ αὖτε ἀγειρόμενοι κατὰ δῆμον
τισόμεθʼ· ἀργαλέον γὰρ ἕνα προικὸς χαρίσασθαι.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀλκίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.
οἱ μὲν κακκείοντες ἔβαν οἶκόνδε ἕκαστος,
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
νῆάδʼ ἐπεσσεύοντο, φέρον δʼ εὐήνορα χαλκόν.
καὶ τὰ μὲν εὖ κατέθηχʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,
αὐτὸς ἰὼν διὰ νηὸς ὑπὸ ζυγά, μή τινʼ ἑταίρων
βλάπτοι ἐλαυνόντων, ὁπότε σπερχοίατʼ ἐρετμοῖς.
οἱ δʼ εἰς Ἀλκινόοιο κίον καὶ δαῖτʼ ἀλέγυνον.
τοῖσι δὲ βοῦν ἱέρευσʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο
Ζηνὶ κελαινεφέϊ Κρονίδῃ, ὃς πᾶσιν ἀνάσσει.
μῆρα δὲ κήαντες δαίνυντʼ ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα
τερπόμενοι· μετὰ δέ σφιν ἐμέλπετο θεῖος ἀοιδός,
Δημόδοκος, λαοῖσι τετιμένος. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
πολλὰ πρὸς ἠέλιον κεφαλὴν τρέπε παμφανόωντα,
δῦναι ἐπειγόμενος· δὴ γὰρ μενέαινε νέεσθαι.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἀνὴρ δόρποιο λιλαίεται, ᾧ τε πανῆμαρ
νειὸν ἀνʼ ἕλκητον βόε οἴνοπε πηκτὸν ἄροτρον·
ἀσπασίως δʼ ἄρα τῷ κατέδυ φάος ἠελίοιο
δόρπον ἐποίχεσθαι, βλάβεται δέ τε γούνατʼ ἰόντι·
ὣς Ὀδυσῆʼ ἀσπαστὸν ἔδυ φάος ἠελίοιο.
αἶψα δὲ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μετηύδα,
Ἀλκινόῳ δὲ μάλιστα πιφαυσκόμενος φάτο μῦθον·
Ἀλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,
πέμπετέ με σπείσαντες ἀπήμονα, χαίρετε δʼ αὐτοί·
ἤδη γὰρ τετέλεσται ἅ μοι φίλος ἤθελε θυμός,
πομπὴ καὶ φίλα δῶρα, τά μοι θεοὶ Οὐρανίωνες
ὄλβια ποιήσειαν· ἀμύμονα δʼ οἴκοι ἄκοιτιν
νοστήσας εὕροιμι σὺν ἀρτεμέεσσι φίλοισιν.
ὑμεῖς δʼ αὖθι μένοντες ἐϋφραίνοιτε γυναῖκας
κουριδίας καὶ τέκνα· θεοὶ δʼ ἀρετὴν ὀπάσειαν
παντοίην, καὶ μή τι κακὸν μεταδήμιον εἴη.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον
πεμπέμεναι τὸν ξεῖνον, ἐπεὶ κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπεν.
καὶ τότε κήρυκα προσέφη μένος Ἀλκινόοιο·
Ποντόνοε, κρητῆρα κερασσάμενος μέθυ νεῖμον
πᾶσιν ἀνὰ μέγαρον, ὄφρʼ εὐξάμενοι Διὶ πατρὶ
τὸν ξεῖνον πέμπωμεν ἑὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ὣς φάτο, Ποντόνοος δὲ μελίφρονα οἶνον ἐκίρνα,
νώμησεν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπισταδόν· οἱ δὲ θεοῖσιν
ἔσπεισαν μακάρεσσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,
αὐτόθεν ἐξ ἑδρέων. ἀνὰ δʼ ἵστατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
Ἀρήτῃ δʼ ἐν χειρὶ τίθει δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
χαῖρέ μοι, ὦ βασίλεια, διαμπερές, εἰς ὅ κε γῆρας
ἔλθῃ καὶ θάνατος, τά τʼ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώποισι πέλονται.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ νέομαι· σὺ δὲ τέρπεο τῷδʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
παισί τε καὶ λαοῖσι καὶ Ἀλκινόῳ βασιλῆϊ.
ὣς εἰπὼν ὑπὲρ οὐδὸν ἐβήσετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
τῷ δʼ ἅμα κήρυκα προΐει μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,
ἡγεῖσθαι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης·
Ἀρήτη δʼ ἄρα οἱ δμῳὰς ἅμʼ ἔπεμπε γυναῖκας,
τὴν μὲν φᾶρος ἔχουσαν ἐϋπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,
τὴν δʼ ἑτέρην χηλὸν πυκινὴν ἅμʼ ὄπασσε κομίζειν·
ἡ δʼ ἄλλη σῖτόν τʼ ἔφερεν καὶ οἶνον ἐρυθρόν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
αἶψα τά γʼ ἐν νηῒ γλαφυρῇ πομπῆες ἀγαυοὶ
δεξάμενοι κατέθεντο, πόσιν καὶ βρῶσιν ἅπασαν·
κὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆϊ στόρεσαν ῥῆγός τε λίνον τε
νηὸς ἐπʼ ἰκριόφιν γλαφυρῆς, ἵνα νήγρετον εὕδοι,
πρυμνῆς· ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐβήσετο καὶ κατέλεκτο
σιγῇ· τοὶ δὲ καθῖζον ἐπὶ κληῗσιν ἕκαστοι
κόσμῳ, πεῖσμα δʼ ἔλυσαν ἀπὸ τρητοῖο λίθοιο.
εὖθʼ οἱ ἀνακλινθέντες ἀνερρίπτουν ἅλα πηδῷ,
καὶ τῷ νήδυμος ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔπιπτε,
νήγρετος, ἥδιστος, θανάτῳ ἄγχιστα ἐοικώς.
ἡ δʼ, ὥς τʼ ἐν πεδίῳ τετράοροι ἄρσενες ἵπποι,
πάντες ἅμʼ ὁρμηθέντες ὑπὸ πληγῇσιν ἱμάσθλης,
ὑψόσʼ ἀειρόμενοι ῥίμφα πρήσσουσι κέλευθον,
ὣς ἄρα τῆς πρύμνη μὲν ἀείρετο, κῦμα δʼ ὄπισθε
πορφύρεον μέγα θῦε πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης.
ἡ δὲ μάλʼ ἀσφαλέως θέεν ἔμπεδον· οὐδέ κεν ἴρηξ
κίρκος ὁμαρτήσειεν, ἐλαφρότατος πετεηνῶν.
ὣς ἡ ῥίμφα θέουσα θαλάσσης κύματʼ ἔταμνεν,
ἄνδρα φέρουσα θεοῖς ἐναλίγκια μήδεʼ ἔχοντα·
ὃς πρὶν μὲν μάλα πολλὰ πάθʼ ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμὸν
ἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων,
δὴ τότε γʼ ἀτρέμας εὗδε, λελασμένος ὅσσʼ ἐπεπόνθει.
εὖτʼ ἀστὴρ ὑπερέσχε φαάντατος, ὅς τε μάλιστα
ἔρχεται ἀγγέλλων φάος Ἠοῦς ἠριγενείης,
τῆμος δὴ νήσῳ προσεπίλνατο ποντοπόρος νηῦς.
Φόρκυνος δέ τίς ἐστι λιμήν, ἁλίοιο γέροντος,
ἐν δήμῳ Ἰθάκης· δύο δὲ προβλῆτες ἐν αὐτῷ
ἀκταὶ ἀπορρῶγες, λιμένος ποτιπεπτηυῖαι,
αἵ τʼ ἀνέμων σκεπόωσι δυσαήων μέγα κῦμα
ἔκτοθεν· ἔντοσθεν δέ τʼ ἄνευ δεσμοῖο μένουσι
νῆες ἐΰσσελμοι, ὅτʼ ἂν ὅρμου μέτρον ἵκωνται.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὶ κρατὸς λιμένος τανύφυλλος ἐλαίη,
ἀγχόθι δʼ αὐτῆς ἄντρον ἐπήρατον ἠεροειδές,
ἱρὸν νυμφάων αἳ νηϊάδες καλέονται.
ἐν δὲ κρητῆρές τε καὶ ἀμφιφορῆες ἔασιν
λάϊνοι· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα τιθαιβώσσουσι μέλισσαι.
ἐν δʼ ἱστοὶ λίθεοι περιμήκεες, ἔνθα τε νύμφαι
φάρεʼ ὑφαίνουσιν ἁλιπόρφυρα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι·
ἐν δʼ ὕδατʼ ἀενάοντα. δύω δέ τέ οἱ θύραι εἰσίν,
αἱ μὲν πρὸς Βορέαο καταιβαταὶ ἀνθρώποισιν,
αἱ δʼ αὖ πρὸς Νότου εἰσὶ θεώτεραι· οὐδέ τι κείνῃ
ἄνδρες ἐσέρχονται, ἀλλʼ ἀθανάτων ὁδός ἐστιν.
ἔνθʼ οἵ γʼ εἰσέλασαν, πρὶν εἰδότες· ἡ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἠπείρῳ ἐπέκελσεν, ὅσον τʼ ἐπὶ ἥμισυ πάσης,
σπερχομένη· τοῖον γὰρ ἐπείγετο χέρσʼ ἐρετάων·
οἱ δʼ ἐκ νηὸς βάντες ἐϋζύγου ἤπειρόνδε
πρῶτον Ὀδυσσῆα γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἄειραν
αὐτῷ σύν τε λίνῳ καὶ ῥήγεϊ σιγαλόεντι,
κὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ ψαμάθῳ ἔθεσαν δεδμημένον ὕπνῳ,
ἐκ δὲ κτήματʼ ἄειραν, ἅ οἱ Φαίηκες ἀγαυοὶ
ὤπασαν οἴκαδʼ ἰόντι διὰ μεγάθυμον Ἀθήνην.
καὶ τὰ μὲν οὖν παρὰ πυθμένʼ ἐλαίης ἀθρόα θῆκαν
ἐκτὸς ὁδοῦ, μή πώς τις ὁδιτάων ἀνθρώπων,
πρίν γʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ ἔγρεσθαι, ἐπελθὼν δηλήσαιτο·
αὐτοὶ δʼ αὖτʼ οἶκόνδε πάλιν κίον. οὐδʼ ἐνοσίχθων
λήθετʼ ἀπειλάων, τὰς ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆϊ
πρῶτον ἐπηπείλησε, Διὸς δʼ ἐξείρετο βουλήν·
Ζεῦ πάτερ, οὐκέτʼ ἐγώ γε μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι
τιμήεις ἔσομαι, ὅτε με βροτοὶ οὔ τι τίουσιν,
Φαίηκες, τοί πέρ τοι ἐμῆς ἔξ εἰσι γενέθλης.
καὶ γὰρ νῦν Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐφάμην κακὰ πολλὰ παθόντα
οἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· νόστον δέ οἱ οὔ ποτʼ ἀπηύρων
πάγχυ, ἐπεὶ σὺ πρῶτον ὑπέσχεο καὶ κατένευσας.
οἱ δʼ εὕδοντʼ ἐν νηῒ θοῇ ἐπὶ πόντον ἄγοντες
κάτθεσαν εἰν Ἰθάκῃ, ἔδοσαν δέ οἱ ἄσπετα δῶρα,
χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά θʼ ὑφαντήν,
πόλλʼ, ὅσʼ ἂν οὐδέ ποτε Τροίης ἐξήρατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
εἴ περ ἀπήμων ἦλθε, λαχὼν ἀπὸ ληΐδος αἶσαν.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
ὢ πόποι, ἐννοσίγαιʼ εὐρυσθενές, οἷον ἔειπες.
οὔ τί σʼ ἀτιμάζουσι θεοί· χαλεπὸν δέ κεν εἴη
πρεσβύτατον καὶ ἄριστον ἀτιμίῃσιν ἰάλλειν.
ἀνδρῶν δʼ εἴ πέρ τίς σε βίῃ καὶ κάρτεϊ εἴκων
οὔ τι τίει. σοὶ δʼ ἐστὶ καὶ ἐξοπίσω τίσις αἰεί.
ἔρξον ὅπως ἐθέλεις καί τοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων·
αἶψά κʼ ἐγὼν ἔρξαιμι, κελαινεφές, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·
ἀλλὰ σὸν αἰεὶ θυμὸν ὀπίζομαι ἠδʼ ἀλεείνω.
νῦν αὖ Φαιήκων ἐθέλω περικαλλέα νῆα,
ἐκ πομπῆς ἀνιοῦσαν, ἐν ἠεροειδέϊ πόντῳ
ῥαῖσαι, ἵνʼ ἤδη σχῶνται, ἀπολλήξωσι δὲ πομπῆς
ἀνθρώπων, μέγα δέ σφιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψαι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
ὢ πέπον, ὡς μὲν ἐμῷ θυμῷ δοκεῖ εἶναι ἄριστα,
ὁππότε κεν δὴ πάντες ἐλαυνομένην προΐδωνται
λαοὶ ἀπὸ πτόλιος, θεῖναι λίθον ἐγγύθι γαίης
νηῒ θοῇ ἴκελον, ἵνα θαυμάζωσιν ἅπαντες
ἄνθρωποι, μέγα δέ σφιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,
βῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐς Σχερίην, ὅθι Φαίηκες γεγάασιν.
ἔνθʼ ἔμενʼ· ἡ δὲ μάλα σχεδὸν ἤλυθε ποντοπόρος νηῦς
ῥίμφα διωκομένη· τῆς δὲ σχεδὸν ἦλθʼ ἐνοσίχθων,
ὅς μιν λᾶαν ἔθηκε καὶ ἐρρίζωσεν ἔνερθε
χειρὶ καταπρηνεῖ ἐλάσας· ὁ δὲ νόσφι βεβήκει.
οἱ δὲ πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευον
Φαίηκες δολιχήρετμοι, ναυσίκλυτοι ἄνδρες.
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·
ὤ μοι, τίς δὴ νῆα θοὴν ἐπέδησʼ ἐνὶ πόντῳ
οἴκαδʼ ἐλαυνομένην; καὶ δὴ προὐφαίνετο πᾶσα.
ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε· τὰ δʼ οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δή με παλαίφατα θέσφαθʼ ἱκάνει
πατρὸς ἐμοῦ, ὃς ἔφασκε Ποσειδάωνʼ ἀγάσασθαι
ἡμῖν, οὕνεκα πομποὶ ἀπήμονές εἰμεν ἁπάντων.
φῆ ποτὲ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν περικαλλέα, νῆα,
ἐκ πομπῆς ἀνιοῦσαν, ἐν ἠεροειδέϊ πόντῳ
ῥαισέμεναι, μέγα δʼ ἧμιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψειν.
ὣς ἀγόρευʼ ὁ γέρων· τὰ δὲ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.
ἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ, ὡς ἂν ἐγὼ εἴπω, πειθώμεθα πάντες·
πομπῆς μὲν παύσασθε βροτῶν, ὅτε κέν τις ἵκηται
ἡμέτερον προτὶ ἄστυ· Ποσειδάωνι δὲ ταύρους
δώδεκα κεκριμένους ἱερεύσομεν, αἴ κʼ ἐλεήσῃ,
μηδʼ ἡμῖν περίμηκες ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψῃ.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἔδεισαν, ἑτοιμάσσαντο δὲ ταύρους.
ὣς οἱ μέν ῥʼ εὔχοντο Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι
δήμου Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,
ἑσταότες περὶ βωμόν. ὁ δʼ ἔγρετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
εὕδων ἐν γαίῃ πατρωΐῃ, οὐδέ μιν ἔγνω,
ἤδη δὴν ἀπεών· περὶ γὰρ θεὸς ἠέρα χεῦε
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διός, ὄφρα μιν αὐτὸν
ἄγνωστον τεύξειεν ἕκαστά τε μυθήσαιτο,
μή μιν πρὶν ἄλοχος γνοίη ἀστοί τε φίλοι τε,
πρὶν πᾶσαν μνηστῆρας ὑπερβασίην ἀποτῖσαι.
τοὔνεκʼ ἄρʼ ἀλλοειδέα φαινέσκετο πάντα ἄνακτι,
ἀτραπιτοί τε διηνεκέες λιμένες τε πάνορμοι
πέτραι τʼ ἠλίβατοι καὶ δένδρεα τηλεθόωντα.
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἀναΐξας καί ῥʼ εἴσιδε πατρίδα γαῖαν·
ᾤμωξέν τʼ ἄρ ἔπειτα καὶ ὣ πεπλήγετο μηρὼ
χερσὶ καταπρηνέσσʼ, ὀλοφυρόμενος δʼ ἔπος ηὔδα·
ὤ μοι ἐγώ, τέων αὖτε βροτῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἱκάνω;
ἦ ῥʼ οἵ γʼ ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,
ἦε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής;
πῇ δὴ χρήματα πολλὰ φέρω τάδε; πῇ τε καὶ αὐτὸς
πλάζομαι; αἴθʼ ὄφελον μεῖναι παρὰ Φαιήκεσσιν
αὐτοῦ· ἐγὼ δέ κεν ἄλλον ὑπερμενέων βασιλήων
ἐξικόμην, ὅς κέν μʼ ἐφίλει καὶ ἔπεμπε νέεσθαι.
νῦν δʼ οὔτʼ ἄρ πῃ θέσθαι ἐπίσταμαι, οὐδὲ μὲν αὐτοῦ
καλλείψω, μή πώς μοι ἕλωρ ἄλλοισι γένηται.
ὢ πόποι, οὐκ ἄρα πάντα νοήμονες οὐδὲ δίκαιοι
ἦσαν Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,
οἵ μʼ εἰς ἄλλην γαῖαν ἀπήγαγον, ἦ τέ μʼ ἔφαντο
ἄξειν εἰς Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον, οὐδʼ ἐτέλεσσαν.
Ζεὺς σφέας τίσαιτο ἱκετήσιος, ὅς τε καὶ ἄλλους
ἀνθρώπους ἐφορᾷ καὶ τίνυται ὅς τις ἁμάρτῃ.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε δὴ τὰ χρήματʼ ἀριθμήσω καὶ ἴδωμαι,
μή τί μοι οἴχωνται κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς ἄγοντες.
ὣς εἰπὼν τρίποδας περικαλλέας ἠδὲ λέβητας
ἠρίθμει καὶ χρυσὸν ὑφαντά τε εἵματα καλά.
τῶν μὲν ἄρʼ οὔ τι πόθει· ὁ δʼ ὀδύρετο πατρίδα γαῖαν
ἑρπύζων παρὰ θῖνα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης,
πόλλʼ ὀλοφυρόμενος. σχεδόθεν δέ οἱ ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη,
ἀνδρὶ δέμας εἰκυῖα νέῳ, ἐπιβώτορι μήλων,
παναπάλῳ, οἷοί τε ἀνάκτων παῖδες ἔασι,
δίπτυχον ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἔχουσʼ εὐεργέα λώπην·
ποσσὶ δʼ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσι πέδιλʼ ἔχε, χερσὶ δʼ ἄκοντα.
τὴν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς γήθησεν ἰδὼν καὶ ἐναντίος ἦλθε,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεί σε πρῶτα κιχάνω τῷδʼ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,
χαῖρέ τε καὶ μή μοί τι κακῷ νόῳ ἀντιβολήσαις,
ἀλλὰ σάω μὲν ταῦτα, σάω δʼ ἐμέ· σοὶ γὰρ ἐγώ γε
εὔχομαι ὥς τε θεῷ καί σευ φίλα γούναθʼ ἱκάνω.
καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ·
τίς γῆ, τίς δῆμος, τίνες ἀνέρες ἐγγεγάασιν;
ἦ πού τις νήσων εὐδείελος, ἦέ τις ἀκτὴ
κεῖθʼ ἁλὶ κεκλιμένη ἐριβώλακος ἠπείροιο;
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
νήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖνʼ, ἢ τηλόθεν εἰλήλουθας,
εἰ δὴ τήνδε τε γαῖαν ἀνείρεαι. οὐδέ τι λίην
οὕτω νώνυμός ἐστιν· ἴσασι δέ μιν μάλα πολλοί,
ἠμὲν ὅσοι ναίουσι πρὸς ἠῶ τʼ ἠέλιόν τε,
ἠδʼ ὅσσοι μετόπισθε ποτὶ ζόφον ἠερόεντα.
ἦ τοι μὲν τρηχεῖα καὶ οὐχ ἱππήλατός ἐστιν,
οὐδὲ λίην λυπρή, ἀτὰρ οὐδʼ εὐρεῖα τέτυκται.
ἐν μὲν γάρ οἱ σῖτος ἀθέσφατος, ἐν δέ τε οἶνος
γίγνεται· αἰεὶ δʼ ὄμβρος ἔχει τεθαλυῖά τʼ ἐέρση·
αἰγίβοτος δʼ ἀγαθὴ καὶ βούβοτος· ἔστι μὲν ὕλη
παντοίη, ἐν δʼ ἀρδμοὶ ἐπηετανοὶ παρέασι.
τῷ τοι, ξεῖνʼ, Ἰθάκης γε καὶ ἐς Τροίην ὄνομʼ ἵκει,
τήν περ τηλοῦ φασὶν Ἀχαιΐδος ἔμμεναι αἴης.
ὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
χαίρων ᾗ γαίῃ πατρωΐῃ, ὥς οἱ ἔειπε
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς, αἰγιόχοιο·
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
οὐδʼ ὅ γʼ ἀληθέα εἶπε, πάλιν δʼ ὅ γε λάζετο μῦθον,
αἰεὶ ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόον πολυκερδέα νωμῶν·
πυνθανόμην Ἰθάκης γε καὶ ἐν Κρήτῃ εὐρείῃ,
τηλοῦ ὑπὲρ πόντου· νῦν δʼ εἰλήλουθα καὶ αὐτὸς
χρήμασι σὺν τοίσδεσσι· λιπὼν δʼ ἔτι παισὶ τοσαῦτα
φεύγω, ἐπεὶ φίλον υἷα κατέκτανον Ἰδομενῆος,
Ὀρσίλοχον πόδας ὠκύν, ὃς ἐν Κρήτῃ εὐρείῃ
ἀνέρας ἀλφηστὰς νίκα ταχέεσσι πόδεσσιν,
οὕνεκά με στερέσαι τῆς ληΐδος ἤθελε πάσης
Τρωϊάδος, τῆς εἵνεκʼ ἐγὼ πάθον ἄλγεα θυμῷ,
ἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων,
οὕνεκʼ ἄρʼ οὐχ ᾧ πατρὶ χαριζόμενος θεράπευον
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ἀλλʼ ἄλλων ἦρχον ἑταίρων.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ κατιόντα βάλον χαλκήρεϊ δουρὶ
ἀγρόθεν, ἐγγὺς ὁδοῖο λοχησάμενος σὺν ἑταίρῳ·
νὺξ δὲ μάλα δνοφερὴ κάτεχʼ οὐρανόν, οὐδέ τις ἡμέας
ἀνθρώπων ἐνόησε, λάθον δέ ἑ θυμὸν ἀπούρας.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τόν γε κατέκτανον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
αὐτίκʼ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆα κιὼν Φοίνικας ἀγαυοὺς
ἐλλισάμην, καί σφιν μενοεικέα ληΐδα δῶκα·
τούς μʼ ἐκέλευσα Πύλονδε καταστῆσαι καὶ ἐφέσσαι
ἢ εἰς Ἤλιδα δῖαν, ὅθι κρατέουσιν Ἐπειοί.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι σφέας κεῖθεν ἀπώσατο ἲς ἀνέμοιο
πόλλʼ ἀεκαζομένους, οὐδʼ ἤθελον ἐξαπατῆσαι.
κεῖθεν δὲ πλαγχθέντες ἱκάνομεν ἐνθάδε νυκτός.
σπουδῇ δʼ ἐς λιμένα προερέσσαμεν, οὐδέ τις ἡμῖν
δόρπου μνῆστις ἔην, μάλα περ χατέουσιν ἑλέσθαι,
ἀλλʼ αὔτως ἀποβάντες ἐκείμεθα νηὸς ἅπαντες.
ἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἐπήλυθε κεκμηῶτα,
οἱ δὲ χρήματʼ ἐμὰ γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑλόντες
κάτθεσαν, ἔνθα περ αὐτὸς ἐπὶ ψαμάθοισιν ἐκείμην.
οἱ δʼ ἐς Σιδονίην εὖ ναιομένην ἀναβάντες
ᾤχοντʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ λιπόμην ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ.
ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
χειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξε· δέμας δʼ ἤϊκτο γυναικὶ
καλῇ τε μεγάλῃ τε καὶ ἀγλαὰ ἔργα ἰδυίῃ·
καί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
κερδαλέος κʼ εἴη καὶ ἐπίκλοπος ὅς σε παρέλθοι
ἐν πάντεσσι δόλοισι, καὶ εἰ θεὸς ἀντιάσειε.
σχέτλιε, ποικιλομῆτα, δόλων ἆτʼ, οὐκ ἄρʼ ἔμελλες,
οὐδʼ ἐν σῇ περ ἐὼν γαίῃ, λήξειν ἀπατάων
μύθων τε κλοπίων, οἵ τοι πεδόθεν φίλοι εἰσίν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε, μηκέτι ταῦτα λεγώμεθα, εἰδότες ἄμφω
κέρδεʼ, ἐπεὶ σὺ μέν ἐσσι βροτῶν ὄχʼ ἄριστος ἁπάντων
βουλῇ καὶ μύθοισιν, ἐγὼ δʼ ἐν πᾶσι θεοῖσι
μήτι τε κλέομαι καὶ κέρδεσιν· οὐδὲ σύ γʼ ἔγνως
Παλλάδʼ Ἀθηναίην, κούρην Διός, ἥ τέ τοι αἰεὶ
ἐν πάντεσσι πόνοισι παρίσταμαι ἠδὲ φυλάσσω,
καὶ δέ σε Φαιήκεσσι φίλον πάντεσσιν ἔθηκα,
νῦν αὖ δεῦρʼ ἱκόμην, ἵνα τοι σὺν μῆτιν ὑφήνω
χρήματά τε κρύψω, ὅσα τοι Φαίηκες ἀγαυοὶ
ὤπασαν οἴκαδʼ ἰόντι ἐμῇ βουλῇ τε νόῳ τε,
εἴπω θʼ ὅσσα τοι αἶσα δόμοις ἔνι ποιητοῖσι
κήδεʼ ἀνασχέσθαι· σὺ δὲ τετλάμεναι καὶ ἀνάγκῃ,
μηδέ τῳ ἐκφάσθαι μήτʼ ἀνδρῶν μήτε γυναικῶν,
πάντων, οὕνεκʼ ἄρʼ ἦλθες ἀλώμενος, ἀλλὰ σιωπῇ
πάσχειν ἄλγεα πολλά, βίας ὑποδέγμενος ἀνδρῶν.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ἀργαλέον σε, θεά, γνῶναι βροτῷ ἀντιάσαντι,
καὶ μάλʼ ἐπισταμένῳ· σὲ γὰρ αὐτὴν παντὶ ἐΐσκεις.
τοῦτο δʼ ἐγὼν εὖ οἶδʼ, ὅτι μοι πάρος ἠπίη ἦσθα,
ἧος ἐνὶ Τροίῃ πολεμίζομεν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Πριάμοιο πόλιν διεπέρσαμεν αἰπήν,
βῆμεν δʼ ἐν νήεσσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐκέδασσεν Ἀχαιούς,
οὔ σέ γʼ ἔπειτα ἴδον, κούρη Διός, οὐδʼ ἐνόησα
νηὸς ἐμῆς ἐπιβᾶσαν, ὅπως τί μοι ἄλγος ἀλάλκοις.
ἀλλʼ αἰεὶ φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἔχων δεδαϊγμένον ἦτορ
ἠλώμην, ἧός με θεοὶ κακότητος ἔλυσαν·
πρίν γʼ ὅτε Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν ἐν πίονι δήμῳ
θάρσυνάς τε ἔπεσσι καὶ ἐς πόλιν ἤγαγες αὐτή.
νῦν δέ σε πρὸς πατρὸς γουνάζομαι—οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω
ἥκειν εἰς Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον, ἀλλά τινʼ ἄλλην
γαῖαν ἀναστρέφομαι· σὲ δὲ κερτομέουσαν ὀΐω
ταῦτʼ ἀγορευέμεναι, ἵνʼ ἐμὰς φρένας ἠπεροπεύσῃς—
εἰπέ μοι εἰ ἐτεόν γε φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἱκάνω.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
αἰεί τοι τοιοῦτον ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόημα·
τῷ σε καὶ οὐ δύναμαι προλιπεῖν δύστηνον ἐόντα,
οὕνεκʼ ἐπητής ἐσσι καὶ ἀγχίνοος καὶ ἐχέφρων.
ἀσπασίως γάρ κʼ ἄλλος ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν
ἵετʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροις ἰδέειν παῖδάς τʼ ἄλοχόν τε·
σοὶ δʼ οὔ πω φίλον ἐστὶ δαήμεναι οὐδὲ πυθέσθαι,
πρίν γʼ ἔτι σῆς ἀλόχου πειρήσεαι, ἥ τέ τοι αὔτως
ἧσται ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν, ὀϊζυραὶ δέ οἱ αἰεὶ
φθίνουσιν νύκτες τε καὶ ἤματα δάκρυ χεούσῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τὸ μὲν οὔ ποτʼ ἀπίστεον, ἀλλʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
ᾔδεʼ, ὃ νοστήσεις ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους·
ἀλλά τοι οὐκ ἐθέλησα Ποσειδάωνι μάχεσθαι
πατροκασιγνήτῳ, ὅς τοι κότον ἔνθετο θυμῷ,
χωόμενος ὅτι οἱ υἱὸν φίλον ἐξαλάωσας.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε τοι δείξω Ἰθάκης ἕδος, ὄφρα πεποίθῃς.
Φόρκυνος μὲν ὅδʼ ἐστὶ λιμήν, ἁλίοιο γέροντος,
ἥδε δʼ ἐπὶ κρατὸς λιμένος τανύφυλλος ἐλαίη·
ἀγχόθι δʼ αὐτῆς ἄντρον ἐπήρατον ἠεροειδές,
ἱρὸν νυμφάων, αἳ νηϊάδες καλέονται·
τοῦτο δέ τοι σπέος ἐστὶ κατηρεφές, ἔνθα σὺ πολλὰς
ἔρδεσκες νύμφῃσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας·
τοῦτο δὲ Νήριτόν ἐστιν ὄρος καταειμένον ὕλῃ.
ὣς εἰποῦσα θεὰ σκέδασʼ ἠέρα, εἴσατο δὲ χθών·
γήθησέν τʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
χαίρων ᾗ γαίῃ, κύσε δὲ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.
αὐτίκα δὲ νύμφῃς ἠρήσατο, χεῖρας ἀνασχών·
νύμφαι νηϊάδες, κοῦραι Διός, οὔ ποτʼ ἐγώ γε
ὄψεσθʼ ὔμμʼ ἐφάμην· νῦν δʼ εὐχωλῇς ἀγανῇσι
χαίρετʼ· ἀτὰρ καὶ δῶρα διδώσομεν, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ,
αἴ κεν ἐᾷ πρόφρων με Διὸς θυγάτηρ ἀγελείη
αὐτόν τε ζώειν καί μοι φίλον υἱὸν ἀέξῃ.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
θάρσει, μή τοι ταῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι μελόντων.
ἀλλὰ χρήματα μὲν μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο
θείμεν αὐτίκα νῦν, ἵνα περ τάδε τοι σόα μίμνῃ·
αὐτοὶ δὲ φραζώμεθʼ ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένηται.
ὣς εἰποῦσα θεὰ δῦνε σπέος ἠεροειδές,
μαιομένη κευθμῶνας ἀνὰ σπέος· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἆσσον πάντʼ ἐφόρει, χρυσὸν καὶ ἀτειρέα χαλκὸν
εἵματά τʼ εὐποίητα, τά οἱ Φαίηκες ἔδωκαν.
καὶ τὰ μὲν εὖ κατέθηκε, λίθον δʼ ἐπέθηκε θύρῃσι
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο.
τὼ δὲ καθεζομένω ἱερῆς παρὰ πυθμένʼ ἐλαίης
φραζέσθην μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ὄλεθρον.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
φράζευ ὅπως μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσεις,
οἳ δή τοι τρίετες μέγαρον κάτα κοιρανέουσι,
μνώμενοι ἀντιθέην ἄλοχον καὶ ἕδνα διδόντες·
ἡ δὲ σὸν αἰεὶ νόστον ὀδυρομένη κατὰ θυμὸν
πάντας μέν ῥʼ ἔλπει καὶ ὑπίσχεται ἀνδρὶ ἑκάστῳ,
ἀγγελίας προϊεῖσα, νόος δέ οἱ ἄλλα μενοινᾷ.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο
φθίσεσθαι κακὸν οἶτον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔμελλον,
εἰ μή μοι σὺ ἕκαστα, θεά, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μῆτιν ὕφηνον, ὅπως ἀποτίσομαι αὐτούς·
πὰρ δέ μοι αὐτὴ στῆθι, μένος πολυθαρσὲς ἐνεῖσα,
οἷον ὅτε Τροίης λύομεν λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα.
αἴ κέ μοι ὣς μεμαυῖα παρασταίης, γλαυκῶπι,
καί κε τριηκοσίοισιν ἐγὼν ἄνδρεσσι μαχοίμην
σὺν σοί, πότνα θεά, ὅτε μοι πρόφρασσʼ ἐπαρήγοις.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
καὶ λίην τοι ἐγώ γε παρέσσομαι, οὐδέ με λήσεις,
ὁππότε κεν δὴ ταῦτα πενώμεθα· καί τινʼ ὀΐω
αἵματί τʼ ἐγκεφάλῳ τε παλαξέμεν ἄσπετον οὖδας
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε σʼ ἄγνωστον τεύξω πάντεσσι βροτοῖσι·
κάρψω μὲν χρόα καλὸν ἐνὶ γναμπτοῖσι μέλεσσι,
ξανθὰς δʼ ἐκ κεφαλῆς ὀλέσω τρίχας, ἀμφὶ δὲ λαῖφος
ἕσσω ὅ κε στυγέῃσιν ἰδὼν ἄνθρωπον ἔχοντα,
κνυζώσω δέ τοι ὄσσε πάρος περικαλλέʼ ἐόντε,
ὡς ἂν ἀεικέλιος πᾶσι μνηστῆρσι φανήῃς
σῇ τʼ ἀλόχῳ καὶ παιδί, τὸν ἐν μεγάροισιν ἔλειπες.
αὐτὸς δὲ πρώτιστα συβώτην εἰσαφικέσθαι,
ὅς τοι ὑῶν ἐπίουρος, ὁμῶς δέ τοι ἤπια οἶδε,
παῖδά τε σὸν φιλέει καὶ ἐχέφρονα Πηνελόπειαν.
δήεις τόν γε σύεσσι παρήμενον· αἱ δὲ νέμονται
πὰρ Κόρακος πέτρῃ ἐπί τε κρήνῃ Ἀρεθούσῃ,
ἔσθουσαι βάλανον μενοεικέα καὶ μέλαν ὕδωρ
πίνουσαι, τά θʼ ὕεσσι τρέφει τεθαλυῖαν ἀλοιφήν.
ἔνθα μένειν καὶ πάντα παρήμενος ἐξερέεσθαι,
ὄφρʼ ἂν ἐγὼν ἔλθω Σπάρτην ἐς καλλιγύναικα
Τηλέμαχον καλέουσα, τεὸν φίλον υἱόν, Ὀδυσσεῦ·
ὅς τοι ἐς εὐρύχορον Λακεδαίμονα πὰρ Μενέλαον
ᾤχετο πευσόμενος μετὰ σὸν κλέος, εἴ που ἔτʼ εἴης.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
τίπτε τʼ ἄρʼ οὔ οἱ ἔειπες, ἐνὶ φρεσὶ πάντα ἰδυῖα;
ἦ ἵνα που καὶ κεῖνος ἀλώμενος ἄλγεα πάσχῃ
πόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον· βίοτον δέ οἱ ἄλλοι ἔδουσι;
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
μὴ δή τοι κεῖνός γε λίην ἐνθύμιος ἔστω.
αὐτή μιν πόμπευον, ἵνα κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἄροιτο
κεῖσʼ ἐλθών· ἀτὰρ οὔ τινʼ ἔχει πόνον, ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος
ἧσται ἐν Ἀτρεΐδαο δόμοις, παρὰ δʼ ἄσπετα κεῖται.
ἦ μέν μιν λοχόωσι νέοι σὺν νηῒ μελαίνῃ,
ἱέμενοι κτεῖναι, πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·
ἀλλὰ τά γʼ οὐκ ὀΐω, πρὶν καί τινα γαῖα καθέξει
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν.
ὣς ἄρα μιν φαμένη ῥάβδῳ ἐπεμάσσατʼ Ἀθήνη.
κάρψεν μὲν χρόα καλὸν ἐνὶ γναμπτοῖσι μέλεσσι,
ξανθὰς δʼ ἐκ κεφαλῆς ὄλεσε τρίχας, ἀμφὶ δὲ δέρμα
πάντεσσιν μελέεσσι παλαιοῦ θῆκε γέροντος,
κνύζωσεν δέ οἱ ὄσσε πάρος περικαλλέʼ ἐόντε·
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν ῥάκος ἄλλο κακὸν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,
ῥωγαλέα ῥυπόωντα, κακῷ μεμορυγμένα καπνῷ·
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν μέγα δέρμα ταχείης ἕσσʼ ἐλάφοιο,
ψιλόν· δῶκε δέ οἱ σκῆπτρον καὶ ἀεικέα πήρην,
πυκνὰ ῥωγαλέην· ἐν δὲ στρόφος ἦεν ἀορτήρ.
τώ γʼ ὣς βουλεύσαντε διέτμαγεν. ἡ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν ἔβη μετὰ παῖδʼ Ὀδυσῆος.

### Book 14

αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐκ λιμένος προσέβη τρηχεῖαν ἀταρπὸν
χῶρον ἀνʼ ὑλήεντα διʼ ἄκριας, ᾗ οἱ Ἀθήνη
πέφραδε δῖον ὑφορβόν, ὅ οἱ βιότοιο μάλιστα
κήδετο οἰκήων, οὓς κτήσατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἐνὶ προδόμῳ εὗρʼ ἥμενον, ἔνθα οἱ αὐλὴ
ὑψηλὴ δέδμητο, περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,
καλή τε μεγάλη τε, περίδρομος· ἥν ῥα συβώτης
αὐτὸς δείμαθʼ ὕεσσιν ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος,
νόσφιν δεσποίνης καὶ Λαέρταο γέροντος,
ῥυτοῖσιν λάεσσι καὶ ἐθρίγκωσεν ἀχέρδῳ·
σταυροὺς δʼ ἐκτὸς ἔλασσε διαμπερὲς ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,
πυκνοὺς καὶ θαμέας, τὸ μέλαν δρυὸς ἀμφικεάσσας·
ἔντοσθεν δʼ αὐλῆς συφεοὺς δυοκαίδεκα ποίει
πλησίον ἀλλήλων, εὐνὰς συσίν· ἐν δὲ ἑκάστῳ
πεντήκοντα σύες χαμαιευνάδες ἐρχατόωντο,
θήλειαι τοκάδες· τοὶ δʼ ἄρσενες ἐκτὸς ἴαυον,
πολλὸν παυρότεροι· τοὺς γὰρ μινύθεσκον ἔδοντες
ἀντίθεοι μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ προΐαλλε συβώτης
αἰεὶ ζατρεφέων σιάλων τὸν ἄριστον ἁπάντων·
οἱ δὲ τριηκόσιοί τε καὶ ἑξήκοντα πέλοντο.
πὰρ δὲ κύνες, θήρεσσιν ἐοικότες αἰὲν ἴαυον
τέσσαρες, οὓς ἔθρεψε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν.
αὐτὸς δʼ ἀμφὶ πόδεσσιν ἑοῖς ἀράρισκε πέδιλα,
τάμνων δέρμα βόειον ἐϋχροές· οἱ δὲ δὴ ἄλλοι
ᾤχοντʼ ἄλλυδις ἄλλος ἅμʼ ἀγρομένοισι σύεσσιν,
οἱ τρεῖς· τὸν δὲ τέταρτον ἀποπροέηκε πόλινδε
σῦν ἀγέμεν μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ἀνάγκῃ,
ὄφρʼ ἱερεύσαντες κρειῶν κορεσαίατο θυμόν.
ἐξαπίνης δʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἴδον κύνες ὑλακόμωροι.
οἱ μὲν κεκλήγοντες ἐπέδραμον· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἕζετο κερδοσύνῃ, σκῆπτρον δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε χειρός.
ἔνθα κεν ᾧ πὰρ σταθμῷ ἀεικέλιον πάθεν ἄλγος·
ἀλλὰ συβώτης ὦκα ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι μετασπὼν
ἔσσυτʼ ἀνὰ πρόθυρον, σκῦτος δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε χειρός.
τοὺς μὲν ὁμοκλήσας σεῦεν κύνας ἄλλυδις ἄλλον
πυκνῇσιν λιθάδεσσιν· ὁ δὲ προσέειπεν ἄνακτα·
ὦ γέρον, ἦ ὀλίγου σε κύνες διεδηλήσαντο
ἐξαπίνης, καί κέν μοι ἐλεγχείην κατέχευας.
καὶ δέ μοι ἄλλα θεοὶ δόσαν ἄλγεά τε στοναχάς τε·
ἀντιθέου γὰρ ἄνακτος ὀδυρόμενος καὶ ἀχεύων
ἧμαι, ἄλλοισιν δὲ σύας σιάλους ἀτιτάλλω
ἔδμεναι· αὐτὰρ κεῖνος ἐελδόμενός που ἐδωδῆς
πλάζετʼ ἐπʼ ἀλλοθρόων ἀνδρῶν δῆμόν τε πόλιν τε,
εἴ που ἔτι ζώει καὶ ὁρᾷ φάος ἠελίοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἕπεο, κλισίηνδʼ ἴομεν, γέρον, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτός,
σίτου καὶ οἴνοιο κορεσσάμενος κατὰ θυμόν,
εἴπῃς ὁππόθεν ἐσσὶ καὶ ὁππόσα κήδεʼ ἀνέτλης.
ὣς εἰπὼν κλισίηνδʼ ἡγήσατο δῖος ὑφορβός,
εἷσεν δʼ εἰσαγαγών, ῥῶπας δʼ ὑπέχευε δασείας,
ἐστόρεσεν δʼ ἐπὶ δέρμα ἰονθάδος ἀγρίου αἰγός,
αὐτοῦ ἐνεύναιον, μέγα καὶ δασύ. χαῖρε δʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὅττι μιν ὣς ὑπέδεκτο, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
Ζεύς τοι δοίη, ξεῖνε, καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι
ὅττι μάλιστʼ ἐθέλεις, ὅτι με πρόφρων ὑπέδεξο.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
ξεῖνʼ, οὔ μοι θέμις ἔστʼ, οὐδʼ εἰ κακίων σέθεν ἔλθοι,
ξεῖνον ἀτιμῆσαι· πρὸς γὰρ Διός εἰσιν ἅπαντες
ξεῖνοί τε πτωχοί τε· δόσις δʼ ὀλίγη τε φίλη τε
γίγνεται ἡμετέρη· ἡ γὰρ δμώων δίκη ἐστὶν
αἰεὶ δειδιότων, ὅτʼ ἐπικρατέωσιν ἄνακτες
οἱ νέοι. ἦ γὰρ τοῦ γε θεοὶ κατὰ νόστον ἔδησαν,
ὅς κεν ἔμʼ ἐνδυκέως ἐφίλει καὶ κτῆσιν ὄπασσεν,
οἶκόν τε κλῆρόν τε πολυμνήστην τε γυναῖκα,
οἷά τε ᾧ οἰκῆϊ ἄναξ εὔθυμος ἔδωκεν,
ὅς οἱ πολλὰ κάμῃσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐπὶ ἔργον ἀέξῃ,
ὡς καὶ ἐμοὶ τόδε ἔργον ἀέξεται, ᾧ ἐπιμίμνω.
τῷ κέ με πόλλʼ ὤνησεν ἄναξ, εἰ αὐτόθʼ ἐγήρα·
ἀλλʼ ὄλεθʼ—ὡς ὤφελλʼ Ἑλένης ἀπὸ φῦλον ὀλέσθαι
πρόχνυ, ἐπεὶ πολλῶν ἀνδρῶν ὑπὸ γούνατʼ ἔλυσε·
καὶ γὰρ κεῖνος ἔβη Ἀγαμέμνονος εἵνεκα τιμῆς
Ἴλιον εἰς εὔπωλον, ἵνα Τρώεσσι μάχοιτο.
ὣς εἰπὼν ζωστῆρι θοῶς συνέεργε χιτῶνα,
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐς συφεούς, ὅθι ἔθνεα ἔρχατο χοίρων.
ἔνθεν ἑλὼν δύʼ ἔνεικε καὶ ἀμφοτέρους ἱέρευσεν,
εὗσέ τε μίστυλλέν τε καὶ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειρεν.
ὀπτήσας δʼ ἄρα πάντα φέρων παρέθηκʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ
θέρμʼ αὐτοῖς ὀβελοῖσιν· ὁ δʼ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ πάλυνεν·
ἐν δʼ ἄρα κισσυβίῳ κίρνη μελιηδέα οἶνον,
αὐτὸς δʼ ἀντίον ἷζεν, ἐποτρύνων δὲ προσηύδα·
ἔσθιε νῦν, ὦ ξεῖνε, τά τε δμώεσσι πάρεστι,
χοίρεʼ· ἀτὰρ σιάλους γε σύας μνηστῆρες ἔδουσιν,
οὐκ ὄπιδα φρονέοντες ἐνὶ φρεσὶν οὐδʼ ἐλεητύν.
οὐ μὲν σχέτλια ἔργα θεοὶ μάκαρες φιλέουσιν,
ἀλλὰ δίκην τίουσι καὶ αἴσιμα ἔργʼ ἀνθρώπων.
καὶ μὲν δυσμενέες καὶ ἀνάρσιοι, οἵ τʼ ἐπὶ γαίης
ἀλλοτρίης βῶσιν καί σφι Ζεὺς ληΐδα δώῃ,
πλησάμενοι δέ τε νῆας ἔβαν οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι,
καὶ μὲν τοῖς ὄπιδος κρατερὸν δέος ἐν φρεσὶ πίπτει.
οἵδε δὲ καί τι ἴσασι, θεοῦ δέ τινʼ ἔκλυον αὐδήν,
κείνου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον, ὅτʼ οὐκ ἐθέλουσι δικαίως
μνᾶσθαι οὐδὲ νέεσθαι ἐπὶ σφέτερʼ, ἀλλὰ ἕκηλοι
κτήματα δαρδάπτουσιν ὑπέρβιον, οὐδʼ ἔπι φειδώ.
ὅσσαι γὰρ νύκτες τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐκ Διός εἰσιν,
οὔ ποθʼ ἓν ἱρεύουσʼ ἱερήϊον, οὐδὲ δύʼ οἴω·
οἶνον δὲ φθινύθουσιν ὑπέρβιον ἐξαφύοντες.
ἦ γάρ οἱ ζωή γʼ ἦν ἄσπετος· οὔ τινι τόσση
ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, οὔτʼ ἠπείροιο μελαίνης
οὔτʼ αὐτῆς Ἰθάκης· οὐδὲ ξυνεείκοσι φωτῶν
ἔστʼ ἄφενος τοσσοῦτον· ἐγὼ δέ κέ τοι καταλέξω.
δώδεκʼ ἐν ἠπείρῳ ἀγέλαι· τόσα πώεα οἰῶν,
τόσσα συῶν συβόσια, τόσʼ αἰπόλια πλατέʼ αἰγῶν
βόσκουσι ξεῖνοί τε καὶ αὐτοῦ βώτορες ἄνδρες.
ἐνθάδε δʼ αἰπόλια πλατέʼ αἰγῶν ἕνδεκα πάντα
ἐσχατιῇ βόσκοντʼ, ἐπὶ δʼ ἀνέρες ἐσθλοὶ ὄρονται.
τῶν αἰεί σφιν ἕκαστος ἐπʼ ἤματι μῆλον ἀγινεῖ,
ζατρεφέων αἰγῶν ὅς τις φαίνηται ἄριστος.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σῦς τάσδε φυλάσσω τε ῥύομαί τε,
καί σφι συῶν τὸν ἄριστον ἐῢ κρίνας ἀποπέμπω.
ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ ἐνδυκέως κρέα τʼ ἤσθιε πῖνέ τε οἶνον
ἁρπαλέως ἀκέων, κακὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσι φύτευεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δείπνησε καὶ ἤραρε θυμὸν ἐδωδῇ,
καί οἱ πλησάμενος δῶκε σκύφον, ᾧ περ ἔπινεν,
οἴνου ἐνίπλειον· ὁ δʼ ἐδέξατο, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ὦ φίλε, τίς γάρ σε πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν,
ὧδε μάλʼ ἀφνειὸς καὶ καρτερὸς ὡς ἀγορεύεις;
φῆς δʼ αὐτὸν φθίσθαι Ἀγαμέμνονος εἵνεκα τιμῆς.
εἰπέ μοι, αἴ κέ ποθι γνώω τοιοῦτον ἐόντα.
Ζεὺς γάρ που τό γε οἶδε καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι,
εἴ κέ μιν ἀγγείλαιμι ἰδών· ἐπὶ πολλὰ δʼ ἀλήθην.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·
ὦ γέρον, οὔ τις κεῖνον ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν
ἀγγέλλων πείσειε γυναῖκά τε καὶ φίλον υἱόν,
ἀλλʼ ἄλλως κομιδῆς κεχρημένοι ἄνδρες ἀλῆται
ψεύδοντʼ, οὐδʼ ἐθέλουσιν ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι.
ὃς δέ κʼ ἀλητεύων Ἰθάκης ἐς δῆμον ἵκηται,
ἐλθὼν ἐς δέσποιναν ἐμὴν ἀπατήλια βάζει·
ἡ δʼ εὖ δεξαμένη φιλέει καὶ ἕκαστα μεταλλᾷ,
καί οἱ ὀδυρομένῃ βλεφάρων ἄπο δάκρυα πίπτει,
ἣ θέμις ἐστὶ γυναικός, ἐπὴν πόσις ἄλλοθʼ ὄληται.
αἶψά κε καὶ σύ, γεραιέ, ἔπος παρατεκτήναιο.
εἴ τίς τοι χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα δοίη.
τοῦ δʼ ἤδη μέλλουσι κύνες ταχέες τʼ οἰωνοὶ
ῥινὸν ἀπʼ ὀστεόφιν ἐρύσαι, ψυχὴ δὲ λέλοιπεν·
ἢ τόν γʼ ἐν πόντῳ φάγον ἰχθύες, ὀστέα δʼ αὐτοῦ
κεῖται ἐπʼ ἠπείρου ψαμάθῳ εἰλυμένα πολλῇ.
ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθʼ ἀπόλωλε, φίλοισι δὲ κήδεʼ ὀπίσσω
πᾶσιν, ἐμοὶ δὲ μάλιστα, τετεύχαται· οὐ γὰρ ἔτʼ ἄλλον
ἤπιον ὧδε ἄνακτα κιχήσομαι, ὁππόσʼ ἐπέλθω,
οὐδʼ εἴ κεν πατρὸς καὶ μητέρος αὖτις ἵκωμαι
οἶκον, ὅθι πρῶτον γενόμην καί μʼ ἔτρεφον αὐτοί.
οὐδέ νυ τῶν ἔτι τόσσον ὀδύρομαι, ἱέμενός περ
ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδέσθαι ἐὼν ἐν πατρίδι γαίῃ·
ἀλλά μʼ Ὀδυσσῆος πόθος αἴνυται οἰχομένοιο.
τὸν μὲν ἐγών, ὦ ξεῖνε, καὶ οὐ παρεόντʼ ὀνομάζειν
αἰδέομαι· πέρι γάρ μʼ ἐφίλει καὶ κήδετο θυμῷ·
ἀλλά μιν ἠθεῖον καλέω καὶ νόσφιν ἐόντα.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπειδὴ πάμπαν ἀναίνεαι, οὐδʼ ἔτι φῇσθα
κεῖνον ἐλεύσεσθαι, θυμὸς δέ τοι αἰὲν ἄπιστος·
ἀλλʼ ἐγὼ οὐκ αὔτως μυθήσομαι, ἀλλὰ σὺν ὅρκῳ,
ὡς νεῖται Ὀδυσεύς· εὐαγγέλιον δέ μοι ἔστω
αὐτίκʼ, ἐπεί κεν κεῖνος ἰὼν τὰ ἃ δώμαθʼ ἵκηται·
ἕσσαι με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, εἵματα καλά·
πρὶν δέ κε, καὶ μάλα περ κεχρημένος, οὔ τι δεχοίμην.
ἐχθρὸς γάρ μοι κεῖνος ὁμῶς Ἀΐδαο πύλῃσι
γίγνεται, ὃς πενίῃ εἴκων ἀπατήλια βάζει.
ἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα θεῶν, ξενίη τε τράπεζα,
ἱστίη τʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ἣν ἀφικάνω·
ἦ μέν τοι τάδε πάντα τελείεται ὡς ἀγορεύω.
τοῦδʼ αὐτοῦ λυκάβαντος ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.
τοῦ μὲν φθίνοντος μηνός, τοῦ δʼ ἱσταμένοιο,
οἴκαδε νοστήσει, καὶ τίσεται ὅς τις ἐκείνου
ἐνθάδʼ ἀτιμάζει ἄλοχον καὶ φαίδιμον υἱόν.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
ὦ γέρον, οὔτʼ ἄρʼ ἐγὼν εὐαγγέλιον τόδε τίσω,
οὔτʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔτι οἶκον ἐλεύσεται· ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος
πῖνε, καὶ ἄλλα παρὲξ μεμνώμεθα, μηδέ με τούτων
μίμνησκʼ· ἦ γὰρ θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐμοῖσιν
ἄχνυται, ὁππότε τις μνήσῃ κεδνοῖο ἄνακτος.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι ὅρκον μὲν ἐάσομεν, αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἔλθοι ὅπως μιν ἐγώ γʼ ἐθέλω καὶ Πηνελόπεια
Λαέρτης θʼ ὁ γέρων καὶ Τηλέμαχος θεοειδής.
νῦν αὖ παιδὸς ἄλαστον ὀδύρομαι, ὃν τέκʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
Τηλεμάχου· τὸν ἐπεὶ θρέψαν θεοὶ ἔρνεϊ ἶσον,
καί μιν ἔφην ἔσσεσθαι ἐν ἀνδράσιν οὔ τι χέρηα
πατρὸς ἑοῖο φίλοιο, δέμας καὶ εἶδος ἀγητόν,
τὸν δέ τις ἀθανάτων βλάψε φρένας ἔνδον ἐΐσας
ἠέ τις ἀνθρώπων· ὁ δʼ ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν
ἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην· τὸν δὲ μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοὶ
οἴκαδʼ ἰόντα λοχῶσιν, ὅπως ἀπὸ φῦλον ὄληται
νώνυμον ἐξ Ἰθάκης Ἀρκεισίου ἀντιθέοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι κεῖνον μὲν ἐάσομεν, ἤ κεν ἁλώῃ
ἦ κε φύγῃ καί κέν οἱ ὑπέρσχῃ χεῖρα Κρονίων.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι σύ, γεραιέ, τὰ σʼ αὐτοῦ κήδεʼ ἐνίσπες
καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ·
τίς πόθεν εἶς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;
ὁπποίης τʼ ἐπὶ νηὸς ἀφίκεο· πῶς δέ σε ναῦται
ἤγαγον εἰς Ἰθάκην; τίνες ἔμμεναι εὐχετόωντο;
οὐ μὲν γάρ τί σε πεζὸν ὀΐομαι ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
εἴη μὲν νῦν νῶϊν ἐπὶ χρόνον ἠμὲν ἐδωδὴ
ἠδὲ μέθυ γλυκερὸν κλισίης ἔντοσθεν ἐοῦσι,
δαίνυσθαι ἀκέοντʼ, ἄλλοι δʼ ἐπὶ ἔργον ἕποιεν·
ῥηϊδίως κεν ἔπειτα καὶ εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν ἅπαντα
οὔ τι διαπρήξαιμι λέγων ἐμὰ κήδεα θυμοῦ,
ὅσσα γε δὴ ξύμπαντα θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησα.
ἐκ μὲν Κρητάων γένος εὔχομαι εὐρειάων,
ἀνέρος ἀφνειοῖο πάϊς· πολλοὶ δὲ καὶ ἄλλοι
υἱέες ἐν μεγάρῳ ἠμὲν τράφεν ἠδʼ ἐγένοντο
γνήσιοι ἐξ ἀλόχου· ἐμὲ δʼ ὠνητὴ τέκε μήτηρ
παλλακίς, ἀλλά με ἶσον ἰθαιγενέεσσιν ἐτίμα
Κάστωρ Ὑλακίδης, τοῦ ἐγὼ γένος εὔχομαι εἶναι
ὃς τότʼ ἐνὶ Κρήτεσσι θεὸς ὣς τίετο δήμῳ
ὄλβῳ τε πλούτῳ τε καὶ υἱάσι κυδαλίμοισιν.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι τὸν κῆρες ἔβαν θανάτοιο φέρουσαι
εἰς Ἀΐδαο δόμους· τοὶ δὲ ζωὴν ἐδάσαντο
παῖδες ὑπέρθυμοι καὶ ἐπὶ κλήρους ἐβάλοντο,
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ μάλα παῦρα δόσαν καὶ οἰκίʼ ἔνειμαν.
ἠγαγόμην δὲ γυναῖκα πολυκλήρων ἀνθρώπων
εἵνεκʼ ἐμῆς ἀρετῆς, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἀποφώλιος ἦα
οὐδὲ φυγοπτόλεμος· νῦν δʼ ἤδη πάντα λέλοιπεν
ἀλλʼ ἔμπης καλάμην γέ σʼ ὀΐομαι εἰσορόωντα
γιγνώσκειν· ἦ γάρ με δύη ἔχει ἤλιθα πολλή.
ἦ μὲν δὴ θάρσος μοι Ἄρης τʼ ἔδοσαν καὶ Ἀθήνη
καὶ ῥηξηνορίην· ὁπότε κρίνοιμι λόχονδε
ἄνδρας ἀριστῆας, κακὰ δυσμενέεσσι φυτεύων,
οὔ ποτέ μοι θάνατον προτιόσσετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ,
ἀλλὰ πολὺ πρώτιστος ἐπάλμενος ἔγχει ἕλεσκον
ἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων ὅ τέ μοι εἴξειε πόδεσσιν.
τοῖος ἔα ἐν πολέμῳ· ἔργον δέ μοι οὐ φίλον ἔσκεν
οὐδʼ οἰκωφελίη, ἥ τε τρέφει ἀγλαὰ τέκνα,
ἀλλά μοι αἰεὶ νῆες ἐπήρετμοι φίλαι ἦσαν
καὶ πόλεμοι καὶ ἄκοντες ἐΰξεστοι καὶ ὀϊστοί,
λυγρά, τά τʼ ἄλλοισίν γε καταριγηλὰ πέλονται.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τὰ φίλʼ ἔσκε τά που θεὸς ἐν φρεσὶ θῆκεν·
ἄλλος γάρ τʼ ἄλλοισιν ἀνὴρ ἐπιτέρπεται ἔργοις.
πρὶν μὲν γὰρ Τροίης ἐπιβήμεναι υἷας Ἀχαιῶν
εἰνάκις ἀνδράσιν ἦρξα καὶ ὠκυπόροισι νέεσσιν
ἄνδρας ἐς ἀλλοδαπούς, καί μοι μάλα τύγχανε πολλά.
τῶν ἐξαιρεύμην μενοεικέα, πολλὰ δʼ ὀπίσσω
λάγχανον· αἶψα δὲ οἶκος ὀφέλλετο, καί ῥα ἔπειτα
δεινός τʼ αἰδοῖός τε μετὰ Κρήτεσσι τετύγμην.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τήν γε στυγερὴν ὁδὸν εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς
ἐφράσαθʼ, ἣ πολλῶν ἀνδρῶν ὑπὸ γούνατʼ ἔλυσε,
δὴ τότʼ ἔμʼ ἤνωγον καὶ ἀγακλυτὸν Ἰδομενῆα
νήεσσʼ ἡγήσασθαι ἐς Ἴλιον· οὐδέ τι μῆχος
ἦεν ἀνήνασθαι, χαλεπὴ δʼ ἔχε δήμου φῆμις.
ἔνθα μὲν εἰνάετες πολεμίζομεν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
τῷ δεκάτῳ δὲ πόλιν Πριάμου πέρσαντες ἔβημεν
οἴκαδε σὺν νήεσσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐκέδασσεν Ἀχαιούς.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ δειλῷ κακὰ μήδετο μητίετα Ζεύς·
μῆνα γὰρ οἶον ἔμεινα τεταρπόμενος τεκέεσσιν
κουριδίῃ τʼ ἀλόχῳ καὶ κτήμασιν· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
Αἴγυπτόνδε με θυμὸς ἀνώγει ναυτίλλεσθαι,
νῆας ἐῢ στείλαντα σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισιν.
ἐννέα νῆας στεῖλα, θοῶς δʼ ἐσαγείρατο λαός.
ἑξῆμαρ μὲν ἔπειτα ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι
δαίνυντʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἱερήϊα πολλὰ παρεῖχον
θεοῖσίν τε ῥέζειν αὐτοῖσί τε δαῖτα πένεσθαι.
ἑβδομάτῃ δʼ ἀναβάντες ἀπὸ Κρήτης εὐρείης
ἐπλέομεν Βορέῃ ἀνέμῳ ἀκραέϊ καλῷ
ῥηϊδίως, ὡς εἴ τε κατὰ ῥόον· οὐδέ τις οὖν μοι
νηῶν πημάνθη, ἀλλʼ ἀσκηθέες καὶ ἄνουσοι
ἥμεθα, τὰς δʼ ἄνεμός τε κυβερνῆταί τʼ ἴθυνον.
πεμπταῖοι δʼ Αἴγυπτον ἐϋρρείτην ἱκόμεσθα,
στῆσα δʼ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ ποταμῷ νέας ἀμφιελίσσας.
ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ κελόμην ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους
αὐτοῦ πὰρ νήεσσι μένειν καὶ νῆας ἔρυσθαι,
ὀπτῆρας δὲ κατὰ σκοπιὰς ὤτρυνα νέεσθαι·
οἱ δʼ ὕβρει εἴξαντες, ἐπισπόμενοι μένεϊ σφῷ,
αἶψα μάλʼ Αἰγυπτίων ἀνδρῶν περικαλλέας ἀγροὺς
πόρθεον, ἐκ δὲ γυναῖκας ἄγον καὶ νήπια τέκνα,
αὐτούς τʼ ἔκτεινον· τάχα δʼ ἐς πόλιν ἵκετʼ ἀϋτή.
οἱ δὲ βοῆς ἀΐοντες ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν
ἦλθον· πλῆτο δὲ πᾶν πεδίον πεζῶν τε καὶ ἵππων
χαλκοῦ τε στεροπῆς· ἐν δὲ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος
φύζαν ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισι κακὴν βάλεν, οὐδέ τις ἔτλη
μεῖναι ἐναντίβιον· περὶ γὰρ κακὰ πάντοθεν ἔστη.
ἔνθʼ ἡμέων πολλοὺς μὲν ἀπέκτανον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
τοὺς δʼ ἄναγον ζωούς, σφίσιν ἐργάζεσθαι ἀνάγκῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ Ζεὺς αὐτὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ὧδε νόημα
ποίησʼ—ὡς ὄφελον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν
αὐτοῦ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ· ἔτι γάρ νύ με πῆμʼ ὑπέδεκτο—
αὐτίκʼ ἀπὸ κρατὸς κυνέην εὔτυκτον ἔθηκα
καὶ σάκος ὤμοιϊν, δόρυ δʼ ἔκβαλον ἔκτοσε χειρός·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ βασιλῆος ἐναντίον ἤλυθον ἵππων
καὶ κύσα γούναθʼ ἑλών· ὁδʼ ἐρύσατο καί μʼ ἐλέησεν,
ἐς δίφρον δέ μʼ ἕσας ἄγεν οἴκαδε δάκρυ χέοντα.
ἦ μέν μοι μάλα πολλοὶ ἐπήϊσσον μελίῃσιν,
ἱέμενοι κτεῖναι—δὴ γὰρ κεχολώατο λίην—
ἀλλʼ ἀπὸ κεῖνος ἔρυκε, Διὸς δʼ ὠπίζετο μῆνιν
ξεινίου, ὅς τε μάλιστα νεμεσσᾶται κακὰ ἔργα.
ἔνθα μὲν ἑπτάετες μένον αὐτόθι, πολλὰ δʼ ἄγειρα
χρήματʼ ἀνʼ Αἰγυπτίους ἄνδρας· δίδοσαν γὰρ ἅπαντες.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ὄγδοόν μοι ἐπιπλόμενον ἔτος ἦλθεν,
δὴ τότε Φοῖνιξ ἦλθεν ἀνὴρ ἀπατήλια εἰδώς,
τρώκτης, ὃς δὴ πολλὰ κάκʼ ἀνθρώποισιν ἐώργει·
ὅς μʼ ἄγε παρπεπιθὼν ᾗσι φρεσίν, ὄφρʼ ἱκόμεσθα
Φοινίκην, ὅθι τοῦ γε δόμοι καὶ κτήματʼ ἔκειτο.
ἔνθα παρʼ αὐτῷ μεῖνα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτόν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ μῆνές τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐξετελεῦντο
ἄψ περιτελλομένου ἔτεος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,
ἐς Λιβύην μʼ ἐπὶ νηὸς ἐέσσατο ποντοπόροιο
ψεύδεα βουλεύσας, ἵνα οἱ σὺν φόρτον ἄγοιμι,
κεῖθι δέ μʼ ὡς περάσειε καὶ ἄσπετον ὦνον ἕλοιτο.
τῷ ἑπόμην ἐπὶ νηός, ὀϊόμενός περ, ἀνάγκῃ.
ἡ δʼ ἔθεεν Βορέῃ ἀνέμῳ ἀκραέϊ καλῷ,
μέσσον ὑπὲρ Κρήτης· Ζεὺς δέ σφισι μήδετʼ ὄλεθρον.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ Κρήτην μὲν ἐλείπομεν, οὐδέ τις ἄλλη
φαίνετο γαιάων, ἀλλʼ οὐρανὸς ἠδὲ θάλασσα,
δὴ τότε κυανέην νεφέλην ἔστησε Κρονίων
νηὸς ὕπερ γλαφυρῆς, ἤχλυσε δὲ πόντος ὑπʼ αὐτῆς.
Ζεὺς δʼ ἄμυδις βρόντησε καὶ ἔμβαλε νηῒ κεραυνόν·
ἡ δʼ ἐλελίχθη πᾶσα Διὸς πληγεῖσα κεραυνῷ,
ἐν δὲ θεείου πλῆτο· πέσον δʼ ἐκ νηὸς ἅπαντες.
οἱ δὲ κορώνῃσιν ἴκελοι περὶ νῆα μέλαιναν
κύμασιν ἐμφορέοντο· θεὸς δʼ ἀποαίνυτο νόστον.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ Ζεὺς αὐτός, ἔχοντί περ ἄλγεα θυμῷ,
ἱστὸν ἀμαιμάκετον νηὸς κυανοπρῴροιο
ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔθηκεν, ὅπως ἔτι πῆμα φύγοιμι.
τῷ ῥα περιπλεχθεὶς φερόμην ὀλοοῖς ἀνέμοισιν.
ἐννῆμαρ φερόμην, δεκάτῃ δέ με νυκτὶ μελαίνῃ
γαίῃ Θεσπρωτῶν πέλασεν μέγα κῦμα κυλίνδον.
ἔνθα με Θεσπρωτῶν βασιλεὺς ἐκομίσσατο Φείδων
ἥρως ἀπριάτην· τοῦ γὰρ φίλος υἱὸς ἐπελθὼν
αἴθρῳ καὶ καμάτῳ δεδμημένον ἦγεν ἐς οἶκον,
χειρὸς ἀναστήσας, ὄφρʼ ἵκετο δώματα πατρός·
ἀμφὶ δέ με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα ἕσσεν.
ἔνθʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐγὼ πυθόμην· κεῖνος γὰρ ἔφασκε
ξεινίσαι ἠδὲ φιλῆσαι ἰόντʼ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
καί μοι κτήματʼ ἔδειξεν ὅσα ξυναγείρατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε πολύκμητόν τε σίδηρον.
καί νύ κεν ἐς δεκάτην γενεὴν ἕτερόν γʼ ἔτι βόσκοι·
τόσσα οἱ ἐν μεγάροις κειμήλια κεῖτο ἄνακτος.
τὸν δʼ ἐς Δωδώνην φάτο βήμεναι, ὄφρα θεοῖο
ἐκ δρυὸς ὑψικόμοιο Διὸς βουλὴν ἐπακούσαι,
ὅππως νοστήσειʼ Ἰθάκης ἐς πίονα δῆμον
ἤδη δὴν ἀπεών, ἢ ἀμφαδὸν ἦε κρυφηδόν.
ὤμοσε δὲ πρὸς ἔμʼ αὐτόν, ἀποσπένδων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
νῆα κατειρύσθαι καὶ ἐπαρτέας ἔμμεν ἑταίρους,
οἳ δή μιν πέμψουσι φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ἀλλʼ ἐμὲ πρὶν ἀπέπεμψε· τύχησε γὰρ ἐρχομένη νηῦς
ἀνδρῶν Θεσπρωτῶν ἐς Δουλίχιον πολύπυρον.
ἔνθʼ ὅ γέ μʼ ἠνώγει πέμψαι βασιλῆϊ Ἀκάστῳ
ἐνδυκέως· τοῖσιν δὲ κακὴ φρεσὶν ἥνδανε βουλὴ
ἀμφʼ ἐμοί, ὄφρʼ ἔτι πάγχυ δύης ἐπὶ πῆμα γενοίμην.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε γαίης πολλὸν ἀπέπλω ποντοπόρος νηῦς,
αὐτίκα δούλιον ἦμαρ ἐμοὶ περιμηχανόωντο.
ἐκ μέν με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἔδυσαν,
ἀμφὶ δέ μοι ῥάκος ἄλλο κακὸν βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,
ῥωγαλέα, τὰ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὅρηαι·
ἑσπέριοι δʼ Ἰθάκης εὐδειέλου ἔργʼ ἀφίκοντο.
ἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν κατέδησαν ἐϋσσέλμῳ ἐνὶ νηῒ
ὅπλῳ ἐϋστρεφέϊ στερεῶς, αὐτοὶ δʼ ἀποβάντες
ἐσσυμένως παρὰ θῖνα θαλάσσης δόρπον ἕλοντο.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ δεσμὸν μὲν ἀνέγναμψαν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ
ῥηϊδίως· κεφαλῇ δὲ κατὰ ῥάκος ἀμφικαλύψας,
ξεστὸν ἐφόλκαιον καταβὰς ἐπέλασσα θαλάσσῃ
στῆθος, ἔπειτα δὲ χερσὶ διήρεσσʼ ἀμφοτέρῃσι
νηχόμενος, μάλα δʼ ὦκα θύρηθʼ ἔα ἀμφὶς ἐκείνων.
ἔνθʼ ἀναβάς, ὅθι τε δρίος ἦν πολυανθέος ὕλης,
κείμην πεπτηώς. οἱ δὲ μεγάλα στενάχοντες
φοίτων· ἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ σφιν ἐφαίνετο κέρδιον εἶναι
μαίεσθαι προτέρω, τοὶ μὲν πάλιν αὖτις ἔβαινον
νηὸς ἔπι γλαφυρῆς· ἐμὲ δʼ ἔκρυψαν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ
ῥηϊδίως, καί με σταθμῷ ἐπέλασσαν ἄγοντες
ἀνδρὸς ἐπισταμένου· ἔτι γάρ νύ μοι αἶσα βιῶναι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
ἆ δειλὲ ξείνων, ἦ μοι μάλα θυμὸν ὄρινας
ταῦτα ἕκαστα λέγων, ὅσα δὴ πάθες ἠδʼ ὅσʼ ἀλήθης.
ἀλλὰ τά γʼ οὐ κατὰ κόσμον ὀΐομαι, οὐδέ με πείσεις
εἰπὼν ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ· τί σε χρὴ τοῖον ἐόντα
μαψιδίως ψεύδεσθαι; ἐγὼ δʼ εὖ οἶδα καὶ αὐτὸς
νόστον ἐμοῖο ἄνακτος, ὅ τʼ ἤχθετο πᾶσι θεοῖσι
πάγχυ μάλʼ, ὅττι μιν οὔ τι μετὰ Τρώεσσι δάμασσαν
ἠὲ φίλων ἐν χερσίν, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσε.
τῷ κέν οἱ τύμβον μὲν ἐποίησαν Παναχαιοί,
ἠδέ κε καὶ ᾧ παιδὶ μέγα κλέος ἤρατʼ ὀπίσσω
νῦν δέ μιν ἀκλειῶς ἅρπυιαι ἀνηρείψαντο.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ παρʼ ὕεσσιν ἀπότροπος· οὐδὲ πόλινδε
ἔρχομαι, εἰ μή πού τι περίφρων Πηνελόπεια
ἐλθέμεν ὀτρύνῃσιν, ὅτʼ ἀγγελίη ποθὲν ἔλθῃ.
ἀλλʼ οἱ μὲν τὰ ἕκαστα παρήμενοι ἐξερέουσιν,
ἠμὲν οἳ ἄχνυνται δὴν οἰχομένοιο ἄνακτος,
ἠδʼ οἳ χαίρουσιν βίοτον νήποινον ἔδοντες·
ἀλλʼ ἐμοὶ οὐ φίλον ἐστὶ μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι,
ἐξ οὗ δή μʼ Αἰτωλὸς ἀνὴρ ἐξήπαφε μύθῳ,
ὅς ῥʼ ἄνδρα κτείνας, πολλὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἀληθείς,
ἦλθεν ἐμὰ πρὸς δώματʼ· ἐγὼ δέ μιν ἀμφαγάπαζον.
φῆ δέ μιν ἐν Κρήτεσσι παρʼ Ἰδομενῆϊ ἰδέσθαι
νῆας ἀκειόμενον, τάς οἱ ξυνέαξαν ἄελλαι·
καὶ φάτʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι ἢ ἐς θέρος ἢ ἐς ὀπώρην,
πολλὰ χρήματʼ ἄγοντα, σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισι.
καὶ σύ, γέρον πολυπενθές, ἐπεί σέ μοι ἤγαγε δαίμων,
μήτε τί μοι ψεύδεσσι χαρίζεο μήτε τι θέλγε·
οὐ γὰρ τοὔνεκʼ ἐγώ σʼ αἰδέσσομαι οὐδὲ φιλήσω,
ἀλλὰ Δία ξένιον δείσας αὐτόν τʼ ἐλεαίρων.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
ἦ μάλα τίς τοι θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἄπιστος,
οἷόν σʼ οὐδʼ ὀμόσας περ ἐπήγαγον οὐδέ σε πείθω.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ῥήτρην ποιησόμεθʼ· αὐτὰρ ὄπισθε
μάρτυροι ἀμφοτέροισι θεοί, τοὶ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν.
εἰ μέν κεν νοστήσῃ ἄναξ τεὸς ἐς τόδε δῶμα,
ἕσσας με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα πέμψαι
Δουλίχιόνδʼ ἰέναι, ὅθι μοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ·
εἰ δέ κε μὴ ἔλθῃσιν ἄναξ τεὸς ὡς ἀγορεύω,
δμῶας ἐπισσεύας βαλέειν μεγάλης κατὰ πέτρης,
ὄφρα καὶ ἄλλος πτωχὸς ἀλεύεται ἠπεροπεύειν.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσεφώνεε δῖος ὑφορβός·
ξεῖνʼ, οὕτω γάρ κέν μοι ἐϋκλείη τʼ ἀρετή τε
εἴη ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους ἅμα τʼ αὐτίκα καὶ μετέπειτα,
ὅς σʼ ἐπεὶ ἐς κλισίην ἄγαγον καὶ ξείνια δῶκα,
αὖτις δὲ κτείναιμι φίλον τʼ ἀπὸ θυμὸν ἑλοίμην·
πρόφρων κεν δὴ ἔπειτα Δία Κρονίωνα λιτοίμην.
νῦν δʼ ὥρη δόρποιο· τάχιστά μοι ἔνδον ἑταῖροι
εἶεν, ἵνʼ ἐν κλισίῃ λαρὸν τετυκοίμεθα δόρπον.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
ἀγχίμολον δὲ σύες τε καὶ ἀνέρες ἦλθον ὑφορβοί.
τὰς μὲν ἄρα ἔρξαν κατὰ ἤθεα κοιμηθῆναι,
κλαγγὴ δʼ ἄσπετος ὦρτο συῶν αὐλιζομενάων
αὐτὰρ ὁ οἷς ἑτάροισιν ἐκέκλετο δῖος ὑφορβός·
ἄξεθʼ ὑῶν τὸν ἄριστον, ἵνα ξείνῳ ἱερεύσω
τηλεδαπῷ· πρὸς δʼ αὐτοὶ ὀνησόμεθʼ, οἵ περ ὀϊζὺν
δὴν ἔχομεν πάσχοντες ὑῶν ἕνεκʼ ἀργιοδόντων·
ἄλλοι δʼ ἡμέτερον κάματον νήποινον ἔδουσιν.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας κέασε ξύλα νηλέϊ χαλκῷ,
οἱ δʼ ὗν εἰσῆγον μάλα πίονα πενταέτηρον.
τὸν μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἔστησαν ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ· οὐδὲ συβώτης
λήθετʼ ἄρʼ ἀθανάτων· φρεσὶ γὰρ κέχρητʼ ἀγαθῇσιν·
ἀλλʼ ὅγʼ ἀπαρχόμενος κεφαλῆς τρίχας ἐν πυρὶ βάλλεν
ἀργιόδοντος ὑός, καὶ ἐπεύχετο πᾶσι θεοῖσιν
νοστῆσαι Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε.
κόψε δʼ ἀνασχόμενος σχίζῃ δρυός, ἣν λίπε κείων·
τὸν δʼ ἔλιπε ψυχή. τοὶ δʼ ἔσφαξάν τε καὶ εὗσαν·
αἶψα δέ μιν διέχευαν· ὁ δʼ ὠμοθετεῖτο συβώτης,
πάντων ἀρχόμενος μελέων, ἐς πίονα δημόν,
καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν πυρὶ βάλλε, παλύνας ἀλφίτου ἀκτῇ,
μίστυλλόν τʼ ἄρα τἆλλα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειραν,
ὤπτησάν τε περιφραδέως ἐρύσαντό τε πάντα,
βάλλον δʼ εἰν ἐλεοῖσιν ἀολλέα· ἂν δὲ συβώτης
ἵστατο δαιτρεύσων· περὶ γὰρ φρεσὶν αἴσιμα ᾔδη.
καὶ τὰ μὲν ἕπταχα πάντα διεμοιρᾶτο δαΐζων·
τὴν μὲν ἴαν νύμφῃσι καὶ Ἑρμῇ, Μαιάδος υἱεῖ,
θῆκεν ἐπευξάμενος, τὰς δʼ ἄλλας νεῖμεν ἑκάστῳ·
νώτοισιν δʼ Ὀδυσῆα διηνεκέεσσι γέραιρεν
ἀργιόδοντος ὑός, κύδαινε δὲ θυμὸν ἄνακτος·
καί μιν φωνήσας προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
αἴθʼ οὕτως, Εὔμαιε, φίλος Διὶ πατρὶ γένοιο
ὡς ἐμοί, ὅττι τε τοῖον ἐόντʼ ἀγαθοῖσι γεραίρεις.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
ἔσθιε, δαιμόνιε ξείνων, καὶ τέρπεο τοῖσδε,
οἷα πάρεστι· θεὸς δὲ τὸ μὲν δώσει, τὸ δʼ ἐάσει,
ὅττι κεν ᾧ θυμῷ ἐθέλῃ· δύναται γὰρ ἅπαντα.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ἄργματα θῦσε θεοῖς αἰειγενέτῃσι,
σπείσας δʼ αἴθοπα οἶνον Ὀδυσσῆϊ πτολιπόρθῳ
ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔθηκεν· ὁ δʼ ἕζετο ᾗ παρὰ μοίρῃ.
σῖτον δέ σφιν ἔνειμε Μεσαύλιος, ὅν ῥα συβώτης
αὐτὸς κτήσατο οἶος ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος,
νόσφιν δεσποίνης καὶ Λαέρταο γέροντος·
πὰρ δʼ ἄρα μιν Ταφίων πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
σῖτον μέν σφιν ἀφεῖλε Μεσαύλιος, οἱ δʼ ἐπὶ κοῖτον
σίτου καὶ κρειῶν κεκορημένοι ἐσσεύοντο.
νὺξ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπῆλθε κακὴ σκοτομήνιος, ὗε δʼ ἄρα Ζεὺς
πάννυχος, αὐτὰρ ἄη Ζέφυρος μέγας αἰὲν ἔφυδρος.
τοῖς δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς μετέειπε, συβώτεω πειρητίζων,
εἴ πώς οἱ ἐκδὺς χλαῖναν πόροι, ἤ τινʼ ἑταίρων
ἄλλον ἐποτρύνειεν, ἐπεί ἑο κήδετο λίην·
κέκλυθι νῦν, Εὔμαιε καὶ ἄλλοι πάντες ἑταῖροι,
εὐξάμενός τι ἔπος ἐρέω· οἶνος γὰρ ἀνώγει
ἠλεός, ὅς τʼ ἐφέηκε πολύφρονά περ μάλʼ ἀεῖσαι
καί θʼ ἁπαλὸν γελάσαι, καί τʼ ὀρχήσασθαι ἀνῆκε,
καί τι ἔπος προέηκεν ὅ περ τʼ ἄρρητον ἄμεινον.
ἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν τὸ πρῶτον ἀνέκραγον, οὐκ ἐπικεύσω.
εἴθʼ ὣς ἡβώοιμι βίη τέ μοι ἔμπεδος εἴη,
ὡς ὅθʼ ὑπὸ Τροίην λόχον ἤγομεν ἀρτύναντες.
ἡγείσθην δʼ Ὀδυσεύς τε καὶ Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος,
τοῖσι δʼ ἅμα τρίτος ἄρχον ἐγών· αὐτοὶ γὰρ ἄνωγον.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἱκόμεσθα ποτὶ πτόλιν αἰπύ τε τεῖχος,
ἡμεῖς μὲν περὶ ἄστυ κατὰ ῥωπήϊα πυκνά,
ἂν δόνακας καὶ ἕλος, ὑπὸ τεύχεσι πεπτηῶτες
κείμεθα. νὺξ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπῆλθε κακὴ Βορέαο πεσόντος,
πηγυλίς· αὐτὰρ ὕπερθε χιὼν γένετʼ ἠΰτε πάχνη,
ψυχρή, καὶ σακέεσσι περιτρέφετο κρύσταλλος.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλοι πάντες χλαίνας ἔχον ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,
εὗδον δʼ εὔκηλοι, σάκεσιν εἰλυμένοι ὤμους·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ χλαῖναν μὲν ἰὼν ἑτάροισιν ἔλειπον
ἀφραδίῃς, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἐφάμην ῥιγωσέμεν ἔμπης,
ἀλλʼ ἑπόμην σάκος οἶον ἔχων καὶ ζῶμα φαεινόν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τρίχα νυκτὸς ἔην, μετὰ δʼ ἄστρα βεβήκει,
καὶ τότʼ ἐγὼν Ὀδυσῆα προσηύδων ἐγγὺς ἐόντα
ἀγκῶνι νύξας· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐμμαπέως ὑπάκουσε·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
οὔ τοι ἔτι ζωοῖσι μετέσσομαι, ἀλλά με χεῖμα
δάμναται· οὐ γὰρ ἔχω χλαῖναν· παρά μʼ ἤπαφε δαίμων
οἰοχίτωνʼ ἔμεναι· νῦν δʼ οὐκέτι φυκτὰ πέλονται.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα νόον σχέθε τόνδʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,
οἷος κεῖνος ἔην βουλευέμεν ἠδὲ μάχεσθαι·
φθεγξάμενος δʼ ὀλίγῃ ὀπί με πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
σίγα νῦν, μή τίς σευ Ἀχαιῶν ἄλλος ἀκούσῃ.
ἦ καὶ ἐπʼ ἀγκῶνος κεφαλὴν σχέθεν εἶπέ τε μῦθον·
κλῦτε, φίλοι· θεῖός μοι ἐνύπνιον ἦλθεν ὄνειρος.
λίην γὰρ νηῶν ἑκὰς ἤλθομεν· ἀλλά τις εἴη
εἰπεῖν Ἀτρεΐδῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι, ποιμένι λαῶν,
εἰ πλέονας παρὰ ναῦφιν ἐποτρύνειε νέεσθαι.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, ὦρτο δʼ ἔπειτα Θόας, Ἀνδραίμονος υἱός,
καρπαλίμως, ἀπὸ δὲ χλαῖναν θέτο φοινικόεσσαν,
βῆ δὲ θέειν ἐπὶ νῆας· ἐγὼ δʼ ἐνὶ εἵματι κείνου
κείμην ἀσπασίως, φάε δὲ χρυσόθρονος Ἠώς.
ὣς νῦν ἡβώοιμι βίη τέ μοι ἔμπεδος εἴη·
δοίη κέν τις χλαῖναν ἐνὶ σταθμοῖσι συφορβῶν,
ἀμφότερον, φιλότητι καὶ αἰδοῖ φωτὸς ἑῆος·
νῦν δέ μʼ ἀτιμάζουσι κακὰ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
ὦ γέρον, αἶνος μέν τοι ἀμύμων, ὃν κατέλεξας,
οὐδέ τί πω παρὰ μοῖραν ἔπος νηκερδὲς ἔειπες·
τῷ οὔτʼ ἐσθῆτος δευήσεαι οὔτε τευ ἄλλου,
ὧν ἐπέοιχʼ ἱκέτην ταλαπείριον ἀντιάσαντα,
νῦν· ἀτὰρ ἠῶθέν γε τὰ σὰ ῥάκεα δνοπαλίξεις.
οὐ γὰρ πολλαὶ χλαῖναι ἐπημοιβοί τε χιτῶνες
ἐνθάδε ἕννυσθαι, μία δʼ οἴη φωτὶ ἑκάστῳ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ἔλθῃσιν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός,
αὐτός τοι χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα δώσει,
πέμψει δʼ ὅππῃ σε κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἀνόρουσε, τίθει δʼ ἄρα οἱ πυρὸς ἐγγὺς
εὐνήν, ἐν δʼ ὀΐων τε καὶ αἰγῶν δέρματʼ ἔβαλλεν.
ἔνθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατέλεκτʼ· ἐπὶ δὲ χλαῖναν βάλεν αὐτῷ
πυκνὴν καὶ μεγάλην, ἥ οἱ παρεκέσκετʼ ἀμοιβάς,
ἕννυσθαι ὅτε τις χειμὼν ἔκπαγλος ὄροιτο.
ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κοιμήσατο, τοὶ δὲ παρʼ αὐτὸν
ἄνδρες κοιμήσαντο νεηνίαι· οὐδὲ συβώτῃ
ἥνδανεν αὐτόθι κοῖτος, ὑῶν ἄπο κοιμηθῆναι,
ἀλλʼ ὅ γʼ ἄρʼ ἔξω ἰὼν ὡπλίζετο· χαῖρε δʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
ὅττι ῥά οἱ βιότου περικήδετο νόσφιν ἐόντος.
πρῶτον μὲν ξίφος ὀξὺ περὶ στιβαροῖς βάλετʼ ὤμοις,
ἀμφὶ δὲ χλαῖναν ἑέσσατʼ ἀλεξάνεμον, μάλα πυκνήν,
ἂν δὲ νάκην ἕλετʼ αἰγὸς ἐϋτρεφέος μεγάλοιο,
εἵλετο δʼ ὀξὺν ἄκοντα, κυνῶν ἀλκτῆρα καὶ ἀνδρῶν.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεναι κείων ὅθι περ σύες ἀργιόδοντες
πέτρῃ ὕπο γλαφυρῇ εὗδον, Βορέω ὑπʼ ἰωγῇ.

### Book 15

ἡ δʼ εἰς εὐρύχορον Λακεδαίμονα Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
ᾤχετʼ, Ὀδυσσῆος μεγαθύμου φαίδιμον υἱὸν
νόστου ὑπομνήσουσα καὶ ὀτρυνέουσα νέεσθαι.
εὗρε δὲ Τηλέμαχον καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸν υἱὸν
εὕδοντʼ ἐν προδόμῳ Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο,
ἦ τοι Νεστορίδην μαλακῷ δεδμημένον ὕπνῳ·
Τηλέμαχον δʼ οὐχ ὕπνος ἔχε γλυκύς, ἀλλʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
νύκτα διʼ ἀμβροσίην μελεδήματα πατρὸς ἔγειρεν.
ἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱσταμένη προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
Τηλέμαχʼ, οὐκέτι καλὰ δόμων ἄπο τῆλʼ ἀλάλησαι,
κτήματά τε προλιπὼν ἄνδρας τʼ ἐν σοῖσι δόμοισιν
οὕτω ὑπερφιάλους· μή τοι κατὰ πάντα φάγωσι
κτήματα δασσάμενοι, σὺ δὲ τηϋσίην ὁδὸν ἔλθῃς.
ἀλλʼ ὄτρυνε τάχιστα βοὴν ἀγαθὸν Μενέλαον
πεμπέμεν, ὄφρʼ ἔτι οἴκοι ἀμύμονα μητέρα τέτμῃς.
ἤδη γάρ ῥα πατήρ τε κασίγνητοί τε κέλονται
Εὐρυμάχῳ γήμασθαι· ὁ γὰρ περιβάλλει ἅπαντας
μνηστῆρας δώροισι καὶ ἐξώφελλεν ἔεδνα·
μή νύ τι σεῦ ἀέκητι δόμων ἐκ κτῆμα φέρηται.
οἶσθα γὰρ οἷος θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι γυναικός·
κείνου βούλεται οἶκον ὀφέλλειν ὅς κεν ὀπυίῃ,
παίδων δὲ προτέρων καὶ κουριδίοιο φίλοιο
οὐκέτι μέμνηται τεθνηκότος οὐδὲ μεταλλᾷ.
ἀλλὰ σύ γʼ ἐλθὼν αὐτὸς ἐπιτρέψειας ἕκαστα
δμῳάων ἥ τίς τοι ἀρίστη φαίνεται εἶναι,
εἰς ὅ κέ τοι φήνωσι θεοὶ κυδρὴν παράκοιτιν.
ἄλλο δέ τοί τι ἔπος ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο θυμῷ.
μνηστήρων σʼ ἐπιτηδὲς ἀριστῆες λοχόωσιν
ἐν πορθμῷ Ἰθάκης τε Σάμοιό τε παιπαλοέσσης.
ἱέμενοι κτεῖναι, πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.
ἀλλὰ τά γʼ οὐκ ὀΐω· πρὶν καί τινα γαῖα καθέξει
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν.
ἀλλὰ ἑκὰς νήσων ἀπέχειν εὐεργέα νῆα,
νυκτὶ δʼ ὁμῶς πλείειν· πέμψει δέ τοι οὖρον ὄπισθεν
ἀθανάτων ὅς τίς σε φυλάσσει τε ῥύεταί τε.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν πρώτην ἀκτὴν Ἰθάκης ἀφίκηαι,
νῆα μὲν ἐς πόλιν ὀτρῦναι καὶ πάντας ἑταίρους,
αὐτὸς δὲ πρώτιστα συβώτην εἰσαφικέσθαι,
ὅς τοι ὑῶν ἐπίουρος, ὁμῶς δέ τοι ἤπια οἶδεν.
ἔνθα δὲ νύκτʼ ἀέσαι· τὸν δʼ ὀτρῦναι πόλιν εἴσω
ἀγγελίην ἐρέοντα περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,
οὕνεκά οἱ σῶς ἐσσὶ καὶ ἐκ Πύλου εἰλήλουθας.
ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀπέβη πρὸς μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον,
αὐτὰρ ὁ Νεστορίδην ἐξ ἡδέος ὕπνου ἔγειρεν
λὰξ ποδὶ κινήσας, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
ἔγρεο, Νεστορίδη Πεισίστρατε, μώνυχας ἵππους
ζεῦξον ὑφʼ ἅρματʼ ἄγων, ὄφρα πρήσσωμεν ὁδοῖο.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Τηλέμαχʼ, οὔ πως ἔστιν ἐπειγομένους περ ὁδοῖο
νύκτα διὰ δνοφερὴν ἐλάαν· τάχα δʼ ἔσσεται ἠώς.
ἀλλὰ μένʼ εἰς ὅ κε δῶρα φέρων ἐπιδίφρια θήῃ
ἥρως Ἀτρείδης, δουρικλειτὸς Μενέλαος,
καὶ μύθοις ἀγανοῖσι παραυδήσας ἀποπέμψῃ.
τοῦ γάρ τε ξεῖνος μιμνήσκεται ἤματα πάντα
ἀνδρὸς ξεινοδόκου, ὅς κεν φιλότητα παράσχῃ.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτίκα δὲ χρυσόθρονος ἤλυθεν Ἠώς.
ἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος,
ἀνστὰς ἐξ εὐνῆς, Ἑλένης πάρα καλλικόμοιο.
τὸν δʼ ὡς οὖν ἐνόησεν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός,
σπερχόμενός ῥα χιτῶνα περὶ χροῒ σιγαλόεντα
δῦνεν, καὶ μέγα φᾶρος ἐπὶ στιβαροῖς βάλετʼ ὤμοις
ἥρως, βῆ δὲ θύραζε, παριστάμενος δὲ προσηύδα
Τηλέμαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο·
Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
ἤδη νῦν μʼ ἀπόπεμπε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·
ἤδη γάρ μοι θυμὸς ἐέλδεται οἴκαδʼ ἱκέσθαι.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος·
Τηλέμαχʼ, οὔ τί σʼ ἐγώ γε πολὺν χρόνον ἐνθάδʼ ἐρύξω
ἱέμενον νόστοιο· νεμεσσῶμαι δὲ καὶ ἄλλῳ
ἀνδρὶ ξεινοδόκῳ, ὅς κʼ ἔξοχα μὲν φιλέῃσιν,
ἔξοχα δʼ ἐχθαίρῃσιν· ἀμείνω δʼ αἴσιμα πάντα.
ἶσόν τοι κακόν ἐσθʼ, ὅς τʼ οὐκ ἐθέλοντα νέεσθαι
ξεῖνον ἐποτρύνει καὶ ὃς ἐσσύμενον κατερύκει.
χρὴ ξεῖνον παρεόντα φιλεῖν, ἐθέλοντα δὲ πέμπειν.
ἀλλὰ μένʼ εἰς ὅ κε δῶρα φέρων ἐπιδίφρια θείω
καλά, σὺ δʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδῃς, εἴπω δὲ γυναιξὶ
δεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροις τετυκεῖν ἅλις ἔνδον ἐόντων.
ἀμφότερον, κῦδός τε καὶ ἀγλαΐη καὶ ὄνειαρ,
δειπνήσαντας ἴμεν πολλὴν ἐπʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν.
εἰ δʼ ἐθέλεις τραφθῆναι ἀνʼ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος,
ὄφρα τοι αὐτὸς ἕπωμαι, ὑποζεύξω δέ τοι ἵππους,
ἄστεα δʼ ἀνθρώπων ἡγήσομαι· οὐδέ τις ἡμέας
αὔτως ἀππέμψει, δώσει δέ τι ἕν γε φέρεσθαι,
ἠέ τινα τριπόδων εὐχάλκων ἠὲ λεβήτων,
ἠὲ δύʼ ἡμιόνους ἠὲ χρύσειον ἄλεισον.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
βούλομαι ἤδη νεῖσθαι ἐφʼ ἡμέτερʼ· οὐ γὰρ ὄπισθεν
οὖρον ἰὼν κατέλειπον ἐπὶ κτεάτεσσιν ἐμοῖσιν·
μὴ πατέρʼ ἀντίθεον διζήμενος αὐτὸς ὄλωμαι,
ἤ τί μοι ἐκ μεγάρων κειμήλιον ἐσθλὸν ὄληται.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος,
αὐτίκʼ ἄρʼ ᾗ ἀλόχῳ ἠδὲ δμῳῇσι κέλευσε
δεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροις τετυκεῖν ἅλις ἔνδον ἐόντων.
ἀγχίμολον δέ οἱ ἦλθε Βοηθοΐδης Ἐτεωνεύς,
ἀνστὰς ἐξ εὐνῆς, ἐπεὶ οὐ πολὺ ναῖεν ἀπʼ αὐτοῦ·
τὸν πῦρ κῆαι ἄνωγε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος
ὀπτῆσαί τε κρεῶν· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ οὐκ ἀπίθησεν ἀκούσας.
αὐτὸς δʼ ἐς θάλαμον κατεβήσετο κηώεντα,
οὐκ οἶος, ἅμα τῷ γʼ Ἑλένη κίε καὶ Μεγαπένθης.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἵκανον ὅθι κειμήλια κεῖτο,
Ἀτρεΐδης μὲν ἔπειτα δέπας λάβεν ἀμφικύπελλον,
υἱὸν δὲ κρητῆρα φέρειν Μεγαπένθεʼ ἄνωγεν
ἀργύρεον· Ἑλένη δὲ παρίστατο φωριαμοῖσιν,
ἔνθʼ ἔσαν οἱ πέπλοι παμποίκιλοι, οὓς κάμεν αὐτή.
τῶν ἕνʼ ἀειραμένη Ἑλένη φέρε, δῖα γυναικῶν,
ὃς κάλλιστος ἔην ποικίλμασιν ἠδὲ μέγιστος,
ἀστὴρ δʼ ὣς ἀπέλαμπεν· ἔκειτο δὲ νείατος ἄλλων.
βὰν δʼ ἰέναι προτέρω διὰ δώματος, ἧος ἵκοντο
Τηλέμαχον· τὸν δὲ προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι νόστον, ὅπως φρεσὶ σῇσι μενοινᾷς,
ὥς τοι Ζεὺς τελέσειεν, ἐρίγδουπος πόσις Ἥρης.
δώρων δʼ, ὅσσʼ ἐν ἐμῷ οἴκῳ κειμήλια κεῖται,
δώσω ὃ κάλλιστον καὶ τιμηέστατόν ἐστι.
δώσω τοι κρητῆρα τετυγμένον· ἀργύρεος δὲ
ἐστὶν ἅπας, χρυσῷ δʼ ἐπὶ χείλεα κεκράανται,
ἔργον δʼ Ἡφαίστοιο· πόρεν δέ ἑ Φαίδιμος ἥρως,
Σιδονίων βασιλεύς, ὅθʼ ἑὸς δόμος ἀμφεκάλυψε
κεῖσέ με νοστήσαντα· τεῒν δʼ ἐθέλω τόδʼ ὀπάσσαι.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἐν χειρὶ τίθει δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον
ἥρως Ἀτρεΐδης· ὁ δʼ ἄρα κρητῆρα φαεινὸν
θῆκʼ αὐτοῦ προπάροιθε φέρων κρατερὸς Μεγαπένθης,
ἀργύρεον· Ἑλένη δὲ παρίστατο καλλιπάρῃος
πέπλον ἔχουσʼ ἐν χερσίν, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
δῶρόν τοι καὶ ἐγώ, τέκνον φίλε, τοῦτο δίδωμι,
μνῆμʼ Ἑλένης χειρῶν, πολυηράτου ἐς γάμου ὥρην,
σῇ ἀλόχῳ φορέειν· τῆος δὲ φίλῃ παρὰ μητρὶ
κείσθω ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ. σὺ δέ μοι χαίρων ἀφίκοιο
οἶκον ἐϋκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἐν χερσὶ τίθει, ὁ δʼ ἐδέξατο χαίρων.
καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐς πείρινθα τίθει Πεισίστρατος ἥρως
δεξάμενος, καὶ πάντα ἑῷ θηήσατο θυμῷ·
τοὺς δʼ ἦγε πρὸς δῶμα κάρη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος.
ἑζέσθην δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε.
χέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα
καλῇ χρυσείῃ, ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,
νίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.
σῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα·
εἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων·
πὰρ δὲ Βοηθοΐδης κρέα δαίετο καὶ νέμε μοίρας·
οἰνοχόει δʼ υἱὸς Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
δὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱὸς
ἵππους τε ζεύγνυντʼ ἀνά θʼ ἅρματα ποικίλʼ ἔβαινον,
ἐκ δʼ ἔλασαν προθύροιο καὶ αἰθούσης ἐριδούπου.
τοὺς δὲ μετʼ Ἀτρεΐδης ἔκιε ξανθὸς Μενέλαος,
οἶνον ἔχων ἐν χειρὶ μελίφρονα δεξιτερῆφι,
ἐν δέπαϊ χρυσέῳ, ὄφρα λείψαντε κιοίτην.
στῆ δʼ ἵππων προπάροιθε, δεδισκόμενος δὲ προσηύδα·
χαίρετον, ὦ κούρω, καὶ Νέστορι ποιμένι λαῶν
εἰπεῖν· ἦ γὰρ ἐμοί γε πατὴρ ὣς ἤπιος ἦεν,
ἧος ἐνὶ Τροίῃ πολεμίζομεν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
καὶ λίην κείνῳ γε, διοτρεφές, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,
πάντα τάδʼ ἐλθόντες καταλέξομεν· αἲ γὰρ ἐγὼν ὣς
νοστήσας Ἰθάκηνδε, κιχὼν Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
εἴποιμʼ ὡς παρὰ σεῖο τυχὼν φιλότητος ἁπάσης
ἔρχομαι, αὐτὰρ ἄγω κειμήλια πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλά.
ὣς ἄρα οἱ εἰπόντι ἐπέπτατο δεξιὸς ὄρνις,
αἰετὸς ἀργὴν χῆνα φέρων ὀνύχεσσι πέλωρον,
ἥμερον ἐξ αὐλῆς· οἱ δʼ ἰΰζοντες ἕποντο
ἀνέρες ἠδὲ γυναῖκες· ὁ δέ σφισιν ἐγγύθεν ἐλθὼν
δεξιὸς ἤϊξε πρόσθʼ ἵππων· οἱ δὲ ἰδόντες
γήθησαν, καὶ πᾶσιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θυμὸς ἰάνθη.
τοῖσι δὲ Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος ἤρχετο μύθων·
φράζεο δή, Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
ἢ νῶϊν τόδʼ ἔφηνε θεὸς τέρας ἦε σοὶ αὐτῷ.
ὣς φάτο, μερμήριξε δʼ ἀρηΐφιλος Μενέλαος,
ὅππως οἱ κατὰ μοῖραν ὑποκρίναιτο νοήσας.
τὸν δʼ Ἑλένη τανύπεπλος ὑποφθαμένη φάτο μῦθον·
κλῦτέ μευ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ μαντεύσομαι, ὡς ἐνὶ θυμῷ
ἀθάνατοι βάλλουσι καὶ ὡς τελέεσθαι ὀΐω.
ὡς ὅδε χῆνʼ ἥρπαξʼ ἀτιταλλομένην ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
ἐλθὼν ἐξ ὄρεος, ὅθι οἱ γενεή τε τόκος τε,
ὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κακὰ πολλὰ παθὼν καὶ πόλλʼ ἐπαληθεὶς
οἴκαδε νοστήσει καὶ τίσεται· ἠὲ καὶ ἤδη
οἴκοι, ἀτὰρ μνηστῆρσι κακὸν πάντεσσι φυτεύει.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
οὕτω νῦν Ζεὺς θείη, ἐρίγδουπος πόσις Ἥρης·
τῷ κέν τοι καὶ κεῖθι θεῷ ὣς εὐχετοῴμην.
ἦ καὶ ἐφʼ ἵπποιϊν μάστιν βάλεν· οἱ δὲ μάλʼ ὦκα
ἤϊξαν πεδίονδε διὰ πτόλιος μεμαῶτες.
οἱ δὲ πανημέριοι σεῖον ζυγὸν ἀμφὶς ἔχοντες.
δύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί·
ἐς Φηρὰς δʼ ἵκοντο Διοκλῆος ποτὶ δῶμα,
υἱέος Ὀρτιλόχοιο, τὸν Ἀλφειὸς τέκε παῖδα.
ἔνθα δὲ νύκτʼ ἄεσαν ὁ δὲ τοῖς πὰρ ξείνια θῆκεν.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
ἵππους τε ζεύγνυντʼ ἀνά θʼ ἅρματα ποικίλʼ ἔβαινον,
ἐκ δʼ ἔλασαν προθύροιο καὶ αἰθούσης ἐριδούπου·
μάστιξεν δʼ ἐλάαν, τὼ δʼ οὐκ ἄκοντε πετέσθην.
αἶψα δʼ ἔπειθʼ ἵκοντο Πύλου αἰπὺ πτολίεθρον·
καὶ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεε Νέστορος υἱόν·
Νεστορίδη, πῶς κέν μοι ὑποσχόμενος τελέσειας
μῦθον ἐμόν; ξεῖνοι δὲ διαμπερὲς εὐχόμεθʼ εἶναι
ἐκ πατέρων φιλότητος, ἀτὰρ καὶ ὁμήλικές εἰμεν·
ἥδε δʼ ὁδὸς καὶ μᾶλλον ὁμοφροσύνῃσιν ἐνήσει.
μή με παρὲξ ἄγε νῆα, διοτρεφές, ἀλλὰ λίπʼ αὐτοῦ,
μή μʼ ὁ γέρων ἀέκοντα κατάσχῃ ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
ἱέμενος φιλέειν· ἐμὲ δὲ χρεὼ θᾶσσον ἱκέσθαι.
ὣς φάτο, Νεστορίδης δʼ ἄρʼ ἑῷ συμφράσσατο θυμῷ,
ὅππως οἱ κατὰ μοῖραν ὑποσχόμενος τελέσειεν.
ὧδε δέ οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι·
στρέψʼ ἵππους ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης,
νηῒ δʼ ἐνὶ πρύμνῃ ἐξαίνυτο κάλλιμα δῶρα,
ἐσθῆτα χρυσόν τε, τά οἱ Μενέλαος ἔδωκε·
καί μιν ἐποτρύνων ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
σπουδῇ νῦν ἀνάβαινε κέλευέ τε πάντας ἑταίρους,
πρὶν ἐμὲ οἴκαδʼ ἱκέσθαι ἀπαγγεῖλαί τε γέροντι.
εὖ γὰρ ἐγὼ τόδε οἶδα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν·
οἷος κείνου θυμὸς ὑπέρβιος, οὔ σε μεθήσει,
ἀλλʼ αὐτὸς καλέων δεῦρʼ εἴσεται, οὐδέ ἕ φημι
ἂψ ἰέναι κενεόν· μάλα γὰρ κεχολώσεται ἔμπης.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἔλασεν καλλίτριχας ἵππους
ἂψ Πυλίων εἰς ἄστυ, θοῶς δʼ ἄρα δώμαθʼ ἵκανε.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνων ἐκέλευσεν·
ἐγκοσμεῖτε τὰ τεύχεʼ, ἑταῖροι, νηῒ μελαίνῃ,
αὐτοί τʼ ἀμβαίνωμεν, ἵνα πρήσσωμεν ὁδοῖο.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο,
αἶψα δʼ ἄρʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῗσι καθῖζον.
ἦ τοι ὁ μὲν τὰ πονεῖτο καὶ εὔχετο, θῦε δʼ Ἀθήνῃ
νηῒ πάρα πρυμνῇ· σχεδόθεν δέ οἱ ἤλυθεν ἀνὴρ
τηλεδαπός, φεύγων ἐξ Ἄργεος ἄνδρα κατακτάς,
μάντις· ἀτὰρ γενεήν γε Μελάμποδος ἔκγονος ἦεν,
ὃς πρὶν μέν ποτʼ ἔναιε Πύλῳ ἔνι, μητέρι μήλων,
ἀφνειὸς Πυλίοισι μέγʼ ἔξοχα δώματα ναίων·
δὴ τότε γʼ ἄλλων δῆμον ἀφίκετο, πατρίδα φεύγων
Νηλέα τε μεγάθυμον, ἀγαυότατον ζωόντων,
ὅς οἱ χρήματα πολλὰ τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν
εἶχε βίῃ. ὁ δὲ τῆος ἐνὶ μεγάροις Φυλάκοιο
δεσμῷ ἐν ἀργαλέῳ δέδετο, κρατέρʼ ἄλγεα πάσχων
εἵνεκα Νηλῆος κούρης ἄτης τε βαρείης,
τήν οἱ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε θεὰ δασπλῆτις Ἐρινύς.
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἔκφυγε κῆρα καὶ ἤλασε βοῦς ἐριμύκους
ἐς Πύλον ἐκ Φυλάκης καὶ ἐτίσατο ἔργον ἀεικὲς
ἀντίθεον Νηλῆα, κασιγνήτῳ δὲ γυναῖκα
ἠγάγετο πρὸς δώμαθʼ. ὁ δʼ ἄλλων ἵκετο δῆμον,
Ἄργος ἐς ἱππόβοτον· τόθι γάρ νύ οἱ αἴσιμον ἦεν
ναιέμεναι πολλοῖσιν ἀνάσσοντʼ Ἀργείοισιν
ἔνθα δʼ ἔγημε γυναῖκα καὶ ὑψερεφὲς θέτο δῶμα,
γείνατο δʼ Ἀντιφάτην καὶ Μάντιον, υἷε κραταιώ.
Ἀντιφάτης μὲν ἔτικτεν Ὀϊκλῆα μεγάθυμον,
αὐτὰρ Ὀϊκλείης λαοσσόον Ἀμφιάραον,
ὃν περὶ κῆρι φίλει Ζεύς τʼ αἰγίοχος καὶ Ἀπόλλων
παντοίην φιλότητʼ· οὐδʼ ἵκετο γήραος οὐδόν,
ἀλλʼ ὄλετʼ ἐν Θήβῃσι γυναίων εἵνεκα δώρων.
τοῦ δʼ υἱεῖς ἐγένοντʼ Ἀλκμαίων Ἀμφίλοχός τε.
Μάντιος αὖ τέκετο Πολυφείδεά τε Κλεῖτόν τε·
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι Κλεῖτον χρυσόθρονος ἥρπασεν Ἠὼς
κάλλεος εἵνεκα οἷο, ἵνʼ ἀθανάτοισι μετείη·
αὐτὰρ ὑπέρθυμον Πολυφείδεα μάντιν Ἀπόλλων
θῆκε βροτῶν ὄχʼ ἄριστον, ἐπεὶ θάνεν Ἀμφιάραος·
ὅς ῥʼ Ὑπερησίηνδʼ ἀπενάσσατο πατρὶ χολωθείς,
ἔνθʼ ὅ γε ναιετάων μαντεύετο πᾶσι βροτοῖσιν.
τοῦ μὲν ἄρʼ υἱὸς ἐπῆλθε, Θεοκλύμενος δʼ ὄνομʼ ἦεν,
ὃς τότε Τηλεμάχου πέλας ἵστατο· τὸν δʼ ἐκίχανεν
σπένδοντʼ εὐχόμενόν τε θοῇ παρὰ νηῒ μελαίνῃ,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεί σε θύοντα κιχάνω τῷδʼ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,
λίσσομʼ ὑπὲρ θυέων καὶ δαίμονος, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
σῆς τʼ αὐτοῦ κεφαλῆς καὶ ἑταίρων, οἵ τοι ἕπονται,
εἰπέ μοι εἰρομένῳ νημερτέα μηδʼ ἐπικεύσῃς·
τίς πόθεν εἶς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
ἐξ Ἰθάκης γένος εἰμί, πατὴρ δέ μοί ἐστιν Ὀδυσσεύς,
εἴ ποτʼ ἔην· νῦν δʼ ἤδη ἀπέφθιτο λυγρῷ ὀλέθρῳ.
τοὔνεκα νῦν ἑτάρους τε λαβὼν καὶ νῆα μέλαιναν
ἦλθον πευσόμενος πατρὸς δὴν οἰχομένοιο.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Θεοκλύμενος θεοειδής·
οὕτω τοι καὶ ἐγὼν ἐκ πατρίδος, ἄνδρα κατακτὰς
ἔμφυλον· πολλοὶ δὲ κασίγνητοί τε ἔται τε
Ἄργος ἀνʼ ἱππόβοτον, μέγα δὲ κρατέουσιν Ἀχαιῶν.
τῶν ὑπαλευάμενος θάνατον καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν
φεύγω, ἐπεί νύ μοι αἶσα κατʼ ἀνθρώπους ἀλάλησθαι.
ἀλλά με νηὸς ἔφεσσαι, ἐπεί σε φυγὼν ἱκέτευσα,
μή με κατακτείνωσι· διωκέμεναι γὰρ ὀΐω.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
οὐ μὲν δή σʼ ἐθέλοντά γʼ ἀπώσω νηὸς ἐΐσης,
ἀλλʼ ἕπευ· αὐτὰρ κεῖθι φιλήσεαι, οἷά κʼ ἔχωμεν.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας οἱ ἐδέξατο χάλκεον ἔγχος,
καὶ τό γʼ ἐπʼ ἰκριόφιν τάνυσεν νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης·
ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς νηὸς ἐβήσετο ποντοπόροιο.
ἐν πρύμνῃ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα καθέζετο, πὰρ δὲ οἷ αὐτῷ
εἷσε Θεοκλύμενον· τοὶ δὲ πρυμνήσιʼ ἔλυσαν.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσεν
ὅπλων ἅπτεσθαι· τοὶ δʼ ἐσσυμένως ἐπίθοντο.
ἱστὸν δʼ εἰλάτινον κοίλης ἔντοσθε μεσόδμης
στῆσαν ἀείραντες, κατὰ δὲ προτόνοισιν ἔδησαν,
ἕλκον δʼ ἱστία λευκὰ ἐϋστρέπτοισι βοεῦσι.
τοῖσιν δʼ ἴκμενον οὖρον ἵει γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
λάβρον ἐπαιγίζοντα διʼ αἰθέρος, ὄφρα τάχιστα
νηῦς ἀνύσειε θέουσα θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.
βὰν δὲ παρὰ Κρουνοὺς καὶ Χαλκίδα καλλιρέεθρον.
δύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί·
ἡ δὲ Φεὰς ἐπέβαλλεν ἐπειγομένη Διὸς οὔρῳ
ἠδὲ παρʼ Ἤλιδα δῖαν, ὅθι κρατέουσιν Ἐπειοί.
ἔνθεν δʼ αὖ νήσοισιν ἐπιπροέηκε θοῇσιν,
ὁρμαίνων ἤ κεν θάνατον φύγοι ἦ κεν ἁλώῃ.
τὼ δʼ αὖτʼ ἐν κλισίῃ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ δῖος ὑφορβὸς
δορπείτην· παρὰ δέ σφιν ἐδόρπεον ἀνέρες ἄλλοι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
τοῖς δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς μετέειπε, συβώτεω πειρητίζων,
ἤ μιν ἔτʼ ἐνδυκέως φιλέοι μεῖναί τε κελεύοι
αὐτοῦ ἐνὶ σταθμῷ, ἦ ὀτρύνειε πόλινδε·
κέκλυθι νῦν, Εὔμαιε, καὶ ἄλλοι πάντες ἑταῖροι·
ἠῶθεν προτὶ ἄστυ λιλαίομαι ἀπονέεσθαι
πτωχεύσων, ἵνα μή σε κατατρύχω καὶ ἑταίρους.
ἀλλά μοι εὖ θʼ ὑπόθευ καὶ ἅμʼ ἡγεμόνʼ ἐσθλὸν ὄπασσον
ὅς κέ με κεῖσʼ ἀγάγῃ· κατὰ δὲ πτόλιν αὐτὸς ἀνάγκῃ
πλάγξομαι, αἴ κέν τις κοτύλην καὶ πύρνον ὀρέξῃ.
καί κʼ ἐλθὼν πρὸς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο
ἀγγελίην εἴποιμι περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,
καί κε μνηστήρεσσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι μιγείην,
εἴ μοι δεῖπνον δοῖεν ὀνείατα μυρίʼ ἔχοντες.
αἶψά κεν εὖ δρώοιμι μετὰ σφίσιν ἅσσʼ ἐθέλοιεν.
ἐκ γάρ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο καί μευ ἄκουσον·
Ἑρμείαο ἕκητι διακτόρου, ὅς ῥά τε πάντων
ἀνθρώπων ἔργοισι χάριν καὶ κῦδος ὀπάζει,
δρηστοσύνῃ οὐκ ἄν μοι ἐρίσσειε βροτὸς ἄλλος,
πῦρ τʼ εὖ νηῆσαι διά τε ξύλα δανὰ κεάσσαι,
δαιτρεῦσαί τε καὶ ὀπτῆσαι καὶ οἰνοχοῆσαι,
οἷά τε τοῖς ἀγαθοῖσι παραδρώωσι χέρηες.
τὸν δὲ μέγʼ ὀχθήσας προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
ὤ μοι, ξεῖνε, τίη τοι ἐνὶ φρεσὶ τοῦτο νόημα
ἔπλετο; ἦ σύ γε πάγχυ λιλαίεαι αὐτόθʼ ὀλέσθαι.
εἰ δὴ μνηστήρων ἐθέλεις καταδῦναι ὅμιλον,
τῶν ὕβρις τε βίη τε σιδήρεον οὐρανὸν ἵκει.
οὔ τοι τοιοίδʼ εἰσὶν ὑποδρηστῆρες ἐκείνων,
ἀλλὰ νέοι, χλαίνας εὖ εἱμένοι ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,
αἰεὶ δὲ λιπαροὶ κεφαλὰς καὶ καλὰ πρόσωπα,
οἵ σφιν ὑποδρώωσιν· ἐΰξεστοι δὲ τράπεζαι
σίτου καὶ κρειῶν ἠδʼ οἴνου βεβρίθασιν.
ἀλλὰ μένʼ· οὐ γάρ τίς τοι ἀνιᾶται παρεόντι,
οὔτʼ ἐγὼ οὔτε τις ἄλλος ἑταίρων, οἵ μοι ἔασιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ἔλθῃσιν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός,
κεῖνός σε χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα ἕσσει,
πέμψει δʼ ὅππη σε κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
αἴθʼ οὕτως, Εὔμαιε, φίλος Διὶ πατρὶ γένοιο
ὡς ἐμοί, ὅττι μʼ ἔπαυσας ἄλης καὶ ὀϊζύος αἰνῆς.
πλαγκτοσύνης δʼ οὐκ ἔστι κακώτερον ἄλλο βροτοῖσιν·
ἀλλʼ ἕνεκʼ οὐλομένης γαστρὸς κακὰ κήδεʼ ἔχουσιν
ἀνέρες, ὅν τινʼ ἵκηται ἄλη καὶ πῆμα καὶ ἄλγος.
νῦν δʼ ἐπεὶ ἰσχανάᾳς μεῖναί τέ με κεῖνον ἄνωγας,
εἴπʼ ἄγε μοι περὶ μητρὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο
πατρός θʼ, ὃν κατέλειπεν ἰὼν ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ,
ἤ που ἔτι ζώουσιν ὑπʼ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο,
ἦ ἤδη τεθνᾶσι καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
Λαέρτης μὲν ἔτι ζώει, Διὶ δʼ εὔχεται αἰεὶ
θυμὸν ἀπὸ μελέων φθίσθαι οἷς ἐν μεγάροισιν·
ἐκπάγλως γὰρ παιδὸς ὀδύρεται οἰχομένοιο
κουριδίης τʼ ἀλόχοιο δαΐφρονος, ἥ ἑ μάλιστα
ἤκαχʼ ἀποφθιμένη καὶ ἐν ὠμῷ γήραϊ θῆκεν.
ἡ δʼ ἄχεϊ οὗ παιδὸς ἀπέφθιτο κυδαλίμοιο,
λευγαλέῳ θανάτῳ, ὡς μὴ θάνοι ὅς τις ἐμοί γε
ἐνθάδε ναιετάων φίλος εἴη καὶ φίλα ἔρδοι.
ὄφρα μὲν οὖν δὴ κείνη ἔην, ἀχέουσά περ ἔμπης,
τόφρα τί μοι φίλον ἔσκε μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι,
οὕνεκά μʼ αὐτὴ θρέψεν ἅμα Κτιμένῃ τανυπέπλῳ,
θυγατέρʼ ἰφθίμῃ, τὴν ὁπλοτάτην τέκε παίδων·
τῇ ὁμοῦ ἐτρεφόμην, ὀλίγον δέ τί μʼ ἧσσον ἐτίμα.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἥβην πολυήρατον ἱκόμεθʼ ἄμφω,
τὴν μὲν ἔπειτα Σάμηνδʼ ἔδοσαν καὶ μυρίʼ ἕλοντο,
αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἐκείνη
καλὰ μάλʼ ἀμφιέσασα, ποσὶν δʼ ὑποδήματα δοῦσα
ἀγρόνδε προΐαλλε· φίλει δέ με κηρόθι μᾶλλον.
νῦν δʼ ἤδη τούτων ἐπιδεύομαι· ἀλλά μοι αὐτῷ
ἔργον ἀέξουσιν μάκαρες θεοὶ ᾧ ἐπιμίμνω·
τῶν ἔφαγόν τʼ ἔπιόν τε καὶ αἰδοίοισιν ἔδωκα.
ἐκ δʼ ἄρα δεσποίνης οὐ μείλιχον ἔστιν ἀκοῦσαι
οὔτʼ ἔπος οὔτε τι ἔργον, ἐπεὶ κακὸν ἔμπεσεν οἴκῳ,
ἄνδρες ὑπερφίαλοι· μέγα δὲ δμῶες χατέουσιν
ἀντία δεσποίνης φάσθαι καὶ ἕκαστα πυθέσθαι
καὶ φαγέμεν πιέμεν τε, ἔπειτα δὲ καί τι φέρεσθαι
ἀγρόνδʼ, οἷά τε θυμὸν ἀεὶ δμώεσσιν ἰαίνει.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὢ πόποι, ὡς ἄρα τυτθὸς ἐών, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα,
πολλὸν ἀπεπλάγχθης σῆς πατρίδος ἠδὲ τοκήων.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
ἠὲ διεπράθετο πτόλις ἀνδρῶν εὐρυάγυια,
ᾗ ἔνι ναιετάασκε πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ,
ἦ σέ γε μουνωθέντα παρʼ οἴεσιν ἢ παρὰ βουσὶν
ἄνδρες δυσμενέες νηυσὶν λάβον ἠδʼ ἐπέρασσαν
τοῦδʼ ἀνδρὸς πρὸς δώμαθʼ, ὁ δʼ ἄξιον ὦνον ἔδωκε.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·
ξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ ἂρ δὴ ταῦτά μʼ ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς,
σιγῇ νῦν ξυνίει καὶ τέρπεο, πῖνέ τε οἶνον
ἥμενος. αἵδε δὲ νύκτες ἀθέσφατοι· ἔστι μὲν εὕδειν,
ἔστι δὲ τερπομένοισιν ἀκούειν· οὐδέ τί σε χρή,
πρὶν ὥρη, καταλέχθαι· ἀνίη καὶ πολὺς ὕπνος.
τῶν δʼ ἄλλων ὅτινα κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀνώγει,
εὑδέτω ἐξελθών· ἅμα δʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφι
δειπνήσας ἅμʼ ὕεσσιν ἀνακτορίῃσιν ἑπέσθω.
νῶϊ δʼ ἐνὶ κλισίῃ πίνοντέ τε δαινυμένω τε
κήδεσιν ἀλλήλων τερπώμεθα λευγαλέοισι,
μνωομένω· μετὰ γάρ τε καὶ ἄλγεσι τέρπεται ἀνήρ,
ὅς τις δὴ μάλα πολλὰ πάθῃ καὶ πόλλʼ ἐπαληθῇ.
τοῦτο δέ τοι ἐρέω ὅ μʼ ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς.
νῆσός τις Συρίη κικλήσκεται, εἴ που ἀκούεις,
Ὀρτυγίης καθύπερθεν, ὅθι τροπαὶ ἠελίοιο,
οὔ τι περιπληθὴς λίην τόσον, ἀλλʼ ἀγαθὴ μέν,
εὔβοτος, εὔμηλος, οἰνοπληθής, πολύπυρος.
πείνη δʼ οὔ ποτε δῆμον ἐσέρχεται, οὐδέ τις ἄλλη
νοῦσος ἐπὶ στυγερὴ πέλεται δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσιν·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε γηράσκωσι πόλιν κάτα φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων,
ἐλθὼν ἀργυρότοξος Ἀπόλλων Ἀρτέμιδι ξὺν
οἷς ἀγανοῖς βελέεσσιν ἐποιχόμενος κατέπεφνεν.
ἔνθα δύω πόλιες, δίχα δέ σφισι πάντα δέδασται·
τῇσιν δʼ ἀμφοτέρῃσι πατὴρ ἐμὸς ἐμβασίλευε,
Κτήσιος Ὀρμενίδης, ἐπιείκελος ἀθανάτοισιν.
ἔνθα δὲ Φοίνικες ναυσίκλυτοι ἤλυθον ἄνδρες,
τρῶκται, μυρίʼ ἄγοντες ἀθύρματα νηῒ μελαίνῃ.
ἔσκε δὲ πατρὸς ἐμοῖο γυνὴ Φοίνισσʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
καλή τε μεγάλη τε καὶ ἀγλαὰ ἔργα ἰδυῖα·
τὴν δʼ ἄρα Φοίνικες πολυπαίπαλοι ἠπερόπευον.
πλυνούσῃ τις πρῶτα μίγη κοίλῃ παρὰ νηῒ
εὐνῇ καὶ φιλότητι, τά τε φρένας ἠπεροπεύει
θηλυτέρῃσι γυναιξί, καὶ ἥ κʼ εὐεργὸς ἔῃσιν.
εἰρώτα δὴ ἔπειτα τίς εἴη καὶ πόθεν ἔλθοι·
ἡ δὲ μάλʼ αὐτίκα πατρὸς ἐπέφραδεν ὑψερεφὲς δῶ·
ἐκ μὲν Σιδῶνος πολυχάλκου εὔχομαι εἶναι,
κούρη δʼ εἴμʼ Ἀρύβαντος ἐγὼ ῥυδὸν ἀφνειοῖο·
ἀλλά μʼ ἀνήρπαξαν Τάφιοι ληΐστορες ἄνδρες
ἀγρόθεν ἐρχομένην, πέρασαν δέ τε δεῦρʼ ἀγαγόντες
τοῦδʼ ἀνδρὸς πρὸς δώμαθʼ· ὁ δʼ ἄξιον ὦνον ἔδωκε.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπεν ἀνήρ, ὃς ἐμίσγετο λάθρη·
ἦ ῥά κε νῦν πάλιν αὖτις ἅμʼ ἡμῖν οἴκαδʼ ἕποιο,
ὄφρα ἴδῃ πατρὸς καὶ μητέρος ὑψερεφὲς δῶ
αὐτούς τʼ; ἦ γὰρ ἔτʼ εἰσὶ καὶ ἀφνειοὶ καλέονται.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε γυνὴ καὶ ἀμείβετο μύθῳ·
εἴη κεν καὶ τοῦτʼ, εἴ μοι ἐθέλοιτέ γε, ναῦται,
ὅρκῳ πιστωθῆναι ἀπήμονά μʼ οἴκαδʼ ἀπάξειν.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπώμνυον ὡς ἐκέλευεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσάν τε τελεύτησάν τε τὸν ὅρκον,
τοῖς δʼ αὖτις μετέειπε γυνὴ καὶ ἀμείβετο μύθῳ·
σιγῇ νῦν, μή τίς με προσαυδάτω ἐπέεσσιν
ὑμετέρων ἑτάρων, ξυμβλήμενος ἢ ἐν ἀγυιῇ,
ἤ που ἐπὶ κρήνῃ· μή τις ποτὶ δῶμα γέροντι
ἐλθὼν ἐξείπῃ, ὁ δʼ ὀϊσάμενος καταδήσῃ
δεσμῷ ἐν ἀργαλέῳ, ὑμῖν δʼ ἐπιφράσσετʼ ὄλεθρον.
ἀλλʼ ἔχετʼ ἐν φρεσὶ μῦθον, ἐπείγετε δʼ ὦνον ὁδαίων.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε κεν δὴ νηῦς πλείη βιότοιο γένηται,
ἀγγελίη μοι ἔπειτα θοῶς ἐς δώμαθʼ ἱκέσθω·
οἴσω γὰρ καὶ χρυσόν, ὅτις χʼ ὑποχείριος ἔλθῃ·
καὶ δέ κεν ἄλλʼ ἐπίβαθρον ἐγὼν ἐθέλουσά γε δοίην.
παῖδα γὰρ ἀνδρὸς ἑῆος ἐνὶ μεγάροις ἀτιτάλλω,
κερδαλέον δὴ τοῖον, ἅμα τροχόωντα θύραζε·
τόν κεν ἄγοιμʼ ἐπὶ νηός, ὁ δʼ ὑμῖν μυρίον ὦνον
ἄλφοι, ὅπῃ περάσητε κατʼ ἀλλοθρόους ἀνθρώπους.
ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀπέβη πρὸς δώματα καλά,
οἱ δʼ ἐνιαυτὸν ἅπαντα παρʼ ἡμῖν αὖθι μένοντες
ἐν νηῒ γλαφυρῇ βίοτον πολὺν ἐμπολόωντο.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ κοίλη νηῦς ἤχθετο τοῖσι νέεσθαι,
καὶ τότʼ ἄρʼ ἄγγελον ἧκαν, ὃς ἀγγείλειε γυναικί.
ἤλυθʼ ἀνὴρ πολύϊδρις ἐμοῦ πρὸς δώματα πατρὸς
χρύσεον ὅρμον ἔχων, μετὰ δʼ ἠλέκτροισιν ἔερτο.
τὸν μὲν ἄρʼ ἐν μεγάρῳ δμῳαὶ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ
χερσίν τʼ ἀμφαφόωντο καὶ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶντο,
ὦνον ὑπισχόμεναι· ὁ δὲ τῇ κατένευσε σιωπῇ.
ἦ τοι ὁ καννεύσας κοίλην ἐπὶ νῆα βεβήκει,
ἡ δʼ ἐμὲ χειρὸς ἑλοῦσα δόμων ἐξῆγε θύραζε.
εὗρε δʼ ἐνὶ προδόμῳ ἠμὲν δέπα ἠδὲ τραπέζας
ἀνδρῶν δαιτυμόνων, οἵ μευ πατέρʼ ἀμφεπένοντο.
οἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐς θῶκον πρόμολον, δήμοιό τε φῆμιν,
ἡ δʼ αἶψα τρίʼ ἄλεισα κατακρύψασʼ ὑπὸ κόλπῳ
ἔκφερεν· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἑπόμην ἀεσιφροσύνῃσι.
δύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος, σκιόωντό τε πᾶσαι ἀγυιαί·
ἡμεῖς δʼ ἐς λιμένα κλυτὸν ἤλθομεν ὦκα κιόντες,
ἔνθʼ ἄρα Φοινίκων ἀνδρῶν ἦν ὠκύαλος νηῦς.
οἱ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀναβάντες ἐπέπλεον ὑγρὰ κέλευθα,
νὼ ἀναβησάμενοι· ἐπὶ δὲ Ζεὺς οὖρον ἴαλλεν.
ἑξῆμαρ μὲν ὁμῶς πλέομεν νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἕβδομον ἦμαρ ἐπὶ Ζεὺς θῆκε Κρονίων,
τὴν μὲν ἔπειτα γυναῖκα βάλʼ Ἄρτεμις ἰοχέαιρα,
ἄντλῳ δʼ ἐνδούπησε πεσοῦσʼ ὡς εἰναλίη κήξ.
καὶ τὴν μὲν φώκῃσι καὶ ἰχθύσι κύρμα γενέσθαι
ἔκβαλον· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ λιπόμην ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ·
τοὺς δʼ Ἰθάκῃ ἐπέλασσε φέρων ἄνεμός τε καὶ ὕδωρ,
ἔνθα με Λαέρτης πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν.
οὕτω τήνδε τε γαῖαν ἐγὼν ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσι.
τὸν δʼ αὖ διογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·
Εὔμαιʼ, ἦ μάλα δή μοι ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θυμὸν ὄρινας
ταῦτα ἕκαστα λέγων, ὅσα δὴ πάθες ἄλγεα θυμῷ.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι σοὶ μὲν παρὰ καὶ κακῷ ἐσθλὸν ἔθηκε
Ζεύς, ἐπεὶ ἀνδρὸς δώματʼ ἀφίκεο πολλὰ μογήσας
ἠπίου, ὃς δή τοι παρέχει βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε
ἐνδυκέως, ζώεις δʼ ἀγαθὸν βίον· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε
πολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστεʼ ἀλώμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνω.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
καδδραθέτην δʼ οὐ πολλὸν ἐπὶ χρόνον, ἀλλὰ μίνυνθα·
αἶψα γὰρ Ἠὼς ἦλθεν ἐΰθρονος. οἱ δʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου
Τηλεμάχου ἕταροι λύον ἱστία, κὰδ δʼ ἕλον ἱστὸν
καρπαλίμως, τὴν δʼ εἰς ὅρμον προέρυσσαν ἐρετμοῖς·
ἐκ δʼ εὐνὰς ἔβαλον, κατὰ δὲ πρυμνήσιʼ ἔδησαν·
ἐκ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βαῖνον ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης,
δεῖπνόν τʼ ἐντύνοντο κερῶντό τε αἴθοπα οἶνον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
τοῖσι δὲ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἤρχετο μύθων·
ὑμεῖς μὲν νῦν ἄστυδʼ ἐλαύνετε νῆα μέλαιναν,
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἀγροὺς ἐπιείσομαι ἠδὲ βοτῆρας·
ἑσπέριος δʼ εἰς ἄστυ ἰδὼν ἐμὰ ἔργα κάτειμι.
ἠῶθεν δέ κεν ὔμμιν ὁδοιπόριον παραθείμην,
δαῖτʼ ἀγαθὴν κρειῶν τε καὶ οἴνου ἡδυπότοιο.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Θεοκλύμενος θεοειδής·
πῆ γὰρ ἐγώ, φίλε τέκνον, ἴω; τεῦ δώμαθʼ ἵκωμαι
ἀνδρῶν οἳ κραναὴν Ἰθάκην κάτα κοιρανέουσιν;
ἦ ἰθὺς σῆς μητρὸς ἴω καὶ σοῖο δόμοιο;
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ἄλλως μέν σʼ ἂν ἐγώ γε καὶ ἡμέτερόνδε κελοίμην
ἔρχεσθʼ· οὐ γάρ τι ξενίων ποθή· ἀλλὰ σοὶ αὐτῷ
χεῖρον, ἐπεί τοι ἐγὼ μὲν ἀπέσσομαι, οὐδέ σε μήτηρ
ὄψεται· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι θαμὰ μνηστῆρσʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
φαίνεται, ἀλλʼ ἀπὸ τῶν ὑπερωΐῳ ἱστὸν ὑφαίνει.
ἀλλά τοι ἄλλον φῶτα πιφαύσκομαι ὅν κεν ἵκοιο,
Εὐρύμαχον, Πολύβοιο δαΐφρονος ἀγλαὸν υἱόν,
τὸν νῦν ἶσα θεῷ Ἰθακήσιοι εἰσορόωσι·
καὶ γὰρ πολλὸν ἄριστος ἀνὴρ μέμονέν τε μάλιστα
μητέρʼ ἐμὴν γαμέειν καὶ Ὀδυσσῆος γέρας ἕξειν.
ἀλλὰ τά γε Ζεὺς οἶδεν Ὀλύμπιος, αἰθέρι ναίων,
εἴ κέ σφι πρὸ γάμοιο τελευτήσει κακὸν ἦμαρ.
ὣς ἄρα οἱ εἰπόντι ἐπέπτατο δεξιὸς ὄρνις,
κίρκος, Ἀπόλλωνος ταχὺς ἄγγελος· ἐν δὲ πόδεσσι
τίλλε πέλειαν ἔχων, κατὰ δὲ πτερὰ χεῦεν ἔραζε
μεσσηγὺς νηός τε καὶ αὐτοῦ Τηλεμάχοιο.
τὸν δὲ Θεοκλύμενος ἑτάρων ἀπονόσφι καλέσσας
ἔν τʼ ἄρα οἱ φῦ χειρὶ ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
Τηλέμαχʼ, οὔ τοι ἄνευ θεοῦ ἔπτατο δεξιὸς ὄρνις
ἔγνων γάρ μιν ἐσάντα ἰδὼν οἰωνὸν ἐόντα.
ὑμετέρου δʼ οὐκ ἔστι γένος βασιλεύτερον ἄλλο
ἐν δήμῳ Ἰθάκης, ἀλλʼ ὑμεῖς καρτεροὶ αἰεί.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
αἲ γὰρ τοῦτο, ξεῖνε, ἔπος τετελεσμένον εἴη·
τῷ κε τάχα γνοίης φιλότητά τε πολλά τε δῶρα
ἐξ ἐμεῦ, ὡς ἄν τίς σε συναντόμενος μακαρίζοι.
ἦ καὶ Πείραιον προσεφώνεε, πιστὸν ἑταῖρον·
Πείραιε Κλυτίδη, σὺ δέ μοι τά περ ἄλλα μάλιστα
πείθῃ ἐμῶν ἑτάρων, οἵ μοι Πύλον εἰς ἅμʼ ἕποντο·
καὶ νῦν μοι τὸν ξεῖνον ἄγων ἐν δώμασι σοῖσιν
ἐνδυκέως φιλέειν καὶ τιέμεν, εἰς ὅ κεν ἔλθω.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Πείραιος δουρικλυτὸς ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Τηλέμαχʼ, εἰ γάρ κεν σὺ πολὺν χρόνον ἐνθάδε μίμνοι,
τόνδε τʼ ἐγὼ κομιῶ, ξενίων δέ οἱ οὐ ποθὴ ἔσται.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἐπὶ νηὸς ἔβη, ἐκέλευσε δʼ ἑταίρους
αὐτούς τʼ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι.
οἱ δʼ αἶψʼ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῗσι καθῖζον.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
εἵλετο δʼ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος, ἀκαχμένον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
νηὸς ἀπʼ ἰκριόφιν· τοὶ δὲ πρυμνήσιʼ ἔλυσαν.
οἱ μὲν ἀνώσαντες πλέον ἐς πόλιν, ὡς ἐκέλευσε
Τηλέμαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο·
τὸν δʼ ὦκα προβιβάντα πόδες φέρον, ὄφρʼ ἵκετʼ αὐλήν,
ἔνθα οἱ ἦσαν ὕες μάλα μυρίαι, ᾗσι συβώτης
ἐσθλὸς ἐὼν ἐνίαυεν, ἀνάκτεσιν ἤπια εἰδώς.

### Book 16

τὼ δʼ αὖτʼ ἐν κλισίῃ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ δῖος ὑφορβὸς
ἐντύνοντο ἄριστον ἅμʼ ἠοῖ, κηαμένω πῦρ,
ἔκπεμψάν τε νομῆας ἅμʼ ἀγρομένοισι σύεσσι·
Τηλέμαχον δὲ περίσσαινον κύνες ὑλακόμωροι,
οὐδʼ ὕλαον προσιόντα. νόησε δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
σαίνοντάς τε κύνας, περί τε κτύπος ἦλθε ποδοῖϊν.
αἶψα δʼ ἄρʼ Εὔμαιον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
Εὔμαιʼ, ἦ μάλα τίς τοι ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ ἑταῖρος
ἢ καὶ γνώριμος ἄλλος, ἐπεὶ κύνες οὐχ ὑλάουσιν,
ἀλλὰ περισσαίνουσι· ποδῶν δʼ ὑπὸ δοῦπον ἀκούω.
οὔ πω πᾶν εἴρητο ἔπος, ὅτε οἱ φίλος υἱὸς
ἔστη ἐνὶ προθύροισι. ταφὼν δʼ ἀνόρουσε συβώτης,
ἐκ δʼ ἄρα οἱ χειρῶν πέσον ἄγγεα, τοῖς ἐπονεῖτο,
κιρνὰς αἴθοπα οἶνον. ὁ δʼ ἀντίος ἦλθεν ἄνακτος,
κύσσε δέ μιν κεφαλήν τε καὶ ἄμφω φάεα καλὰ
χεῖράς τʼ ἀμφοτέρας· θαλερὸν δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε δάκρυ.
ὡς δὲ πατὴρ ὃν παῖδα φίλα φρονέων ἀγαπάζῃ
ἐλθόντʼ ἐξ ἀπίης γαίης δεκάτῳ ἐνιαυτῷ,
μοῦνον τηλύγετον, τῷ ἔπʼ ἄλγεα πολλὰ μογήσῃ,
ὣς τότε Τηλέμαχον θεοειδέα δῖος ὑφορβὸς
πάντα κύσεν περιφύς, ὡς ἐκ θανάτοιο φυγόντα·
καί ῥʼ ὀλοφυρόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ἦλθες, Τηλέμαχε, γλυκερὸν φάος. οὔ σʼ ἔτʼ ἐγώ γε
ὄψεσθαι ἐφάμην, ἐπεὶ ᾤχεο νηῒ Πύλονδε.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν εἴσελθε, φίλον τέκος, ὄφρα σε θυμῷ
τέρψομαι εἰσορόων νέον ἄλλοθεν ἔνδον ἐόντα.
οὐ μὲν γάρ τι θάμʼ ἀγρὸν ἐπέρχεαι οὐδὲ νομῆας,
ἀλλʼ ἐπιδημεύεις· ὣς γάρ νύ τοι εὔαδε θυμῷ,
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων ἐσορᾶν ἀΐδηλον ὅμιλον.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ἔσσεται οὕτως, ἄττα· σέθεν δʼ ἕνεκʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνω,
ὄφρα σέ τʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδω καὶ μῦθον ἀκούσω,
ἤ μοι ἔτʼ ἐν μεγάροις μήτηρ μένει, ἦέ τις ἤδη
ἀνδρῶν ἄλλος ἔγημεν, Ὀδυσσῆος δέ που εὐνὴ
χήτει ἐνευναίων κάκʼ ἀράχνια κεῖται ἔχουσα.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·
καὶ λίην κείνη γε μένει τετληότι θυμῷ
σοῖσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν· ὀϊζυραὶ δέ οἱ αἰεὶ
φθίνουσιν νύκτες τε καὶ ἤματα δάκρυ χεούσῃ.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας οἱ ἐδέξατο χάλκεον ἔγχος·
αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ εἴσω ἴεν καὶ ὑπέρβη λάϊνον οὐδόν.
τῷ δʼ ἕδρης ἐπιόντι πατὴρ ὑπόειξεν Ὀδυσσεύς·
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἑτέρωθεν ἐρήτυε φώνησέν τε·
ἧσʼ, ὦ ξεῖνʼ· ἡμεῖς δὲ καὶ ἄλλοθι δήομεν ἕδρην
σταθμῷ ἐν ἡμετέρῳ· πάρα δʼ ἀνὴρ ὃς καταθήσει.
ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αὖτις ἰὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο· τῷ δὲ συβώτης.
χεῦεν ὕπο χλωρὰς ῥῶπας καὶ κῶας ὕπερθεν·
ἔνθα καθέζετʼ ἔπειτα Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός.
τοῖσιν δʼ αὖ κρειῶν πίνακας παρέθηκε συβώτης
ὀπταλέων, ἅ ῥα τῇ προτέρῃ ὑπέλειπον ἔδοντες,
σῖτον δʼ ἐσσυμένως παρενήνεεν ἐν κανέοισιν,
ἐν δʼ ἄρα κισσυβίῳ κίρνη μελιηδέα οἶνον·
αὐτὸς δʼ ἀντίον ἷζεν Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
δὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεε δῖον ὑφορβόν·
ἄττα, πόθεν τοι ξεῖνος ὅδʼ ἵκετο; πῶς δέ ἑ ναῦται
ἤγαγον εἰς Ἰθάκην; τίνες ἔμμεναι εὐχετόωντο;
οὐ μὲν γάρ τί ἑ πεζὸν ὀΐομαι ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, τέκνον, ἀληθέα πάντʼ ἀγορεύσω.
ἐκ μὲν Κρητάων γένος εὔχεται εὐρειάων,
φησὶ δὲ πολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστεα δινηθῆναι
πλαζόμενος· ὣς γάρ οἱ ἐπέκλωσεν τά γε δαίμων.
νῦν αὖ Θεσπρωτῶν ἀνδρῶν ἐκ νηὸς ἀποδρὰς
ἤλυθʼ ἐμὸν πρὸς σταθμόν, ἐγὼ δέ τοι ἐγγυαλίξω·
ἔρξον ὅπως ἐθέλεις· ἱκέτης δέ τοι εὔχεται εἶναι.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Εὔμαιʼ, ἦ μάλα τοῦτο ἔπος θυμαλγὲς ἔειπες·
πῶς γὰρ δὴ τὸν ξεῖνον ἐγὼν ὑποδέξομαι οἴκῳ;
αὐτὸς μὲν νέος εἰμὶ καὶ οὔ πω χερσὶ πέποιθα
ἄνδρʼ ἀπαμύνασθαι, ὅτε τις πρότερος χαλεπήνῃ·
μητρὶ δʼ ἐμῇ δίχα θυμὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμηρίζει,
ἢ αὐτοῦ παρʼ ἐμοί τε μένῃ καὶ δῶμα κομίζῃ,
εὐνήν τʼ αἰδομένη πόσιος δήμοιό τε φῆμιν,
ἦ ἤδη ἅμʼ ἕπηται Ἀχαιῶν ὅς τις ἄριστος
μνᾶται ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἀνὴρ καὶ πλεῖστα πόρῃσιν.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοὶ τὸν ξεῖνον, ἐπεὶ τεὸν ἵκετο δῶμα,
ἕσσω μιν χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, εἵματα καλά,
δώσω δὲ ξίφος ἄμφηκες καὶ ποσσὶ πέδιλα,
πέμψω δʼ ὅππη μιν κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.
εἰ δʼ ἐθέλεις, σὺ κόμισσον ἐνὶ σταθμοῖσιν ἐρύξας·
εἵματα δʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἐγὼ πέμψω καὶ σῖτον ἅπαντα
ἔδμεναι, ὡς ἂν μή σε κατατρύχῃ καὶ ἑταίρους.
κεῖσε δʼ ἂν οὔ μιν ἐγώ γε μετὰ μνηστῆρας ἐῷμι
ἔρχεσθαι· λίην γὰρ ἀτάσθαλον ὕβριν ἔχουσι·
μή μιν κερτομέωσιν, ἐμοὶ δʼ ἄχος ἔσσεται αἰνόν.
πρῆξαι δʼ ἀργαλέον τι μετὰ πλεόνεσσιν ἐόντα
ἄνδρα καὶ ἴφθιμον, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτεροί εἰσι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεί θήν μοι καὶ ἀμείψασθαι θέμις ἐστίν,
ἦ μάλα μευ καταδάπτετʼ ἀκούοντος φίλον ἦτορ,
οἷά φατε μνηστῆρας ἀτάσθαλα μηχανάασθαι
ἐν μεγάροις, ἀέκητι σέθεν τοιούτου ἐόντος.
εἰπέ μοι ἠὲ ἑκὼν ὑποδάμνασαι, ἦ σέ γε λαοὶ
ἐχθαίρουσʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον, ἐπισπόμενοι θεοῦ ὀμφῇ,
ἦ τι κασιγνήτοις ἐπιμέμφεαι, οἷσί περ ἀνὴρ
μαρναμένοισι πέποιθε, καὶ εἰ μέγα νεῖκος ὄρηται.
αἲ γὰρ ἐγὼν οὕτω νέος εἴην τῷδʼ ἐπὶ θυμῷ,
ἢ παῖς ἐξ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος ἠὲ καὶ αὐτός·
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπʼ ἐμεῖο κάρη τάμοι ἀλλότριος φώς,
εἰ μὴ ἐγὼ κείνοισι κακὸν πάντεσσι γενοίμην,
ἐλθὼν ἐς μέγαρον Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος.
εἰ δʼ αὖ με πληθυῖ δαμασαίατο μοῦνον ἐόντα,
βουλοίμην κʼ ἐν ἐμοῖσι κατακτάμενος μεγάροισι
τεθνάμεν ἢ τάδε γʼ αἰὲν ἀεικέα ἔργʼ ὁράασθαι,
ξείνους τε στυφελιζομένους δμῳάς τε γυναῖκας
ῥυστάζοντας ἀεικελίως κατὰ δώματα καλά,
καὶ οἶνον διαφυσσόμενον, καὶ σῖτον ἔδοντας
μὰψ αὔτως, ἀτέλεστον, ἀνηνύστῳ ἐπὶ ἔργῳ.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
οὔτε τί μοι πᾶς δῆμος ἀπεχθόμενος χαλεπαίνει,
οὔτε κασιγνήτοις ἐπιμέμφομαι, οἷσί περ ἀνὴρ
μαρναμένοισι πέποιθε, καὶ εἰ μέγα νεῖκος ὄρηται.
ὧδε γὰρ ἡμετέρην γενεὴν μούνωσε Κρονίων·
μοῦνον Λαέρτην Ἀρκείσιος υἱὸν ἔτικτε,
μοῦνον δʼ αὖτʼ Ὀδυσῆα πατὴρ τέκεν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
μοῦνον ἔμʼ ἐν μεγάροισι τεκὼν λίπεν οὐδʼ ἀπόνητο.
τῷ νῦν δυσμενέες μάλα μυρίοι εἴσʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
ὅσσοι γὰρ νήσοισιν ἐπικρατέουσιν ἄριστοι,
Δουλιχίῳ τε Σάμῃ τε καὶ ὑλήεντι Ζακύνθῳ,
ἠδʼ ὅσσοι κραναὴν Ἰθάκην κάτα κοιρανέουσι,
τόσσοι μητέρʼ ἐμὴν μνῶνται, τρύχουσι δὲ οἶκον.
ἡ δʼ οὔτʼ ἀρνεῖται στυγερὸν γάμον οὔτε τελευτὴν
ποιῆσαι δύναται· τοὶ δὲ φθινύθουσιν ἔδοντες
οἶκον ἐμόν· τάχα δή με διαρραίσουσι καὶ αὐτόν.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ταῦτα θεῶν ἐν γούνασι κεῖται·
ἄττα, σὺ δʼ ἔρχεο θᾶσσον, ἐχέφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ
εἴφʼ ὅτι οἱ σῶς εἰμὶ καὶ ἐκ Πύλου εἰλήλουθα.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν αὐτοῦ μενέω, σὺ δὲ δεῦρο νέεσθαι,
οἴῃ ἀπαγγείλας· τῶν δʼ ἄλλων μή τις Ἀχαιῶν
πευθέσθω· πολλοὶ γὰρ ἐμοὶ κακὰ μηχανόωνται.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
γιγνώσκω, φρονέω· τά γε δὴ νοέοντι κελεύεις.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
ἦ καὶ Λαέρτῃ αὐτὴν ὁδὸν ἄγγελος ἔλθω
δυσμόρῳ, ὃς τῆος μὲν Ὀδυσσῆος μέγʼ ἀχεύων
ἔργα τʼ ἐποπτεύεσκε μετὰ δμώων τʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
πῖνε καὶ ἦσθʼ, ὅτε θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἀνώγοι·
αὐτὰρ νῦν, ἐξ οὗ σύ γε ᾤχεο νηῒ Πύλονδε,
οὔ πω μίν φασιν φαγέμεν καὶ πιέμεν αὔτως,
οὐδʼ ἐπὶ ἔργα ἰδεῖν, ἀλλὰ στοναχῇ τε γόῳ τε
ἧσται ὀδυρόμενος, φθινύθει δʼ ἀμφʼ ὀστεόφι χρώς.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ἄλγιον, ἀλλʼ ἔμπης μιν ἐάσομεν, ἀχνύμενοί περ·
εἰ γάρ πως εἴη αὐτάγρετα πάντα βροτοῖσι,
πρῶτόν κεν τοῦ πατρὸς ἑλοίμεθα νόστιμον ἦμαρ.
ἀλλὰ σύ γʼ ἀγγείλας ὀπίσω κίε, μηδὲ κατʼ ἀγροὺς
πλάζεσθαι μετʼ ἐκεῖνον· ἀτὰρ πρὸς μητέρα εἰπεῖν
ἀμφίπολον ταμίην ὀτρυνέμεν ὅττι τάχιστα
κρύβδην· κείνη γάρ κεν ἀπαγγείλειε γέροντι.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ὦρσε συφορβόν· ὁ δʼ εἵλετο χερσὶ πέδιλα,
δησάμενος δʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶ πόλινδʼ ἴεν. οὐδʼ ἄρʼ Ἀθήνην
λῆθεν ἀπὸ σταθμοῖο κιὼν Εὔμαιος ὑφορβός,
ἀλλʼ ἥ γε σχεδὸν ἦλθε· δέμας δʼ ἤϊκτο γυναικὶ
καλῇ τε μεγάλῃ τε καὶ ἀγλαὰ ἔργα ἰδυίῃ.
στῆ δὲ κατʼ ἀντίθυρον κλισίης Ὀδυσῆϊ φανεῖσα·
οὐδʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος ἴδεν ἀντίον οὐδʼ ἐνόησεν,
οὐ γάρ πω πάντεσσι θεοὶ φαίνονται ἐναργεῖς,
ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεύς τε κύνες τε ἴδον, καί ῥʼ οὐχ ὑλάοντο
κνυζηθμῷ δʼ ἑτέρωσε διὰ σταθμοῖο φόβηθεν.
ἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ ὀφρύσι νεῦσε· νόησε δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἐκ δʼ ἦλθεν μεγάροιο παρὲκ μέγα τειχίον αὐλῆς,
στῆ δὲ πάροιθʼ αὐτῆς· τὸν δὲ προσέειπεν Ἀθήνη·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ.
ἤδη νῦν σῷ παιδὶ ἔπος φάο μηδʼ ἐπίκευθε,
ὡς ἂν μνηστῆρσιν θάνατον καὶ κῆρʼ ἀραρόντε
ἔρχησθον προτὶ ἄστυ περικλυτόν· οὐδʼ ἐγὼ αὐτὴ
δηρὸν ἀπὸ σφῶϊν ἔσομαι μεμαυῖα μάχεσθαι.
ἦ καὶ χρυσείῃ ῥάβδῳ ἐπεμάσσατʼ Ἀθήνη.
φᾶρος μέν οἱ πρῶτον ἐϋπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα
θῆκʼ ἀμφὶ στήθεσσι, δέμας δʼ ὤφελλε καὶ ἥβην.
ἂψ δὲ μελαγχροιὴς γένετο, γναθμοὶ δὲ τάνυσθεν,
κυάνεαι δʼ ἐγένοντο γενειάδες ἀμφὶ γένειον.
ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς ἔρξασα πάλιν κίεν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἤϊεν ἐς κλισίην· θάμβησε δέ μιν φίλος υἱός,
ταρβήσας δʼ ἑτέρωσε βάλʼ ὄμματα, μὴ θεὸς εἴη,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ἀλλοῖός μοι, ξεῖνε, φάνης νέον ἠὲ πάροιθεν,
ἄλλα δὲ εἵματʼ ἔχεις, καί τοι χρὼς οὐκέθʼ ὁμοῖος.
ἦ μάλα τις θεός ἐσσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν·
ἀλλʼ ἵληθʼ, ἵνα τοι κεχαρισμένα δώομεν ἱρὰ
ἠδὲ χρύσεα δῶρα, τετυγμένα· φείδεο δʼ ἡμέων
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
οὔ τίς τοι θεός εἰμι· τί μʼ ἀθανάτοισιν ἐΐσκεις;
ἀλλὰ πατὴρ τεός εἰμι, τοῦ εἵνεκα σὺ στεναχίζων
πάσχεις ἄλγεα πολλά, βίας ὑποδέγμενος ἀνδρῶν.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας υἱὸν κύσε, κὰδ δὲ παρειῶν
δάκρυον ἧκε χαμᾶζε· πάρος δʼ ἔχε νωλεμὲς αἰεί.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ, οὐ γάρ πω ἐπείθετο ὃν πατέρʼ εἶναι,
ἐξαῦτίς μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
οὐ σύ γʼ Ὀδυσσεύς ἐσσι, πατὴρ ἐμός, ἀλλά με δαίμων
θέλγει, ὄφρʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὀδυρόμενος στεναχίζω.
οὐ γάρ πως ἂν θνητὸς ἀνὴρ τάδε μηχανόῳτο
ᾧ αὐτοῦ γε νόῳ, ὅτε μὴ θεὸς αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν
ῥηϊδίως ἐθέλων θείη νέον ἠὲ γέροντα.
ἦ γάρ τοι νέον ἦσθα γέρων καὶ ἀεικέα ἕσσο·
νῦν δὲ θεοῖσιν ἔοικας, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Τηλέμαχʼ, οὔ σε ἔοικε φίλον πατέρ ἔνδον ἐόντα
οὔτε τι θαυμάζειν περιώσιον οὔτʼ ἀγάασθαι·
οὐ μὲν γάρ τοι ἔτʼ ἄλλος ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἀλλʼ ὅδʼ ἐγὼ τοιόσδε, παθὼν κακά, πολλὰ δʼ ἀληθείς,
ἤλυθον εἰκοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
αὐτάρ τοι τόδε ἔργον Ἀθηναίης ἀγελείης,
ἥ τέ με τοῖον ἔθηκεν, ὅπως ἐθέλει, δύναται γάρ,
ἄλλοτε μὲν πτωχῷ ἐναλίγκιον, ἄλλοτε δʼ αὖτε
ἀνδρὶ νέῳ καὶ καλὰ περὶ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντι.
ῥηΐδιον δὲ θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,
ἠμὲν κυδῆναι θνητὸν βροτὸν ἠδὲ κακῶσαι.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ
ἀμφιχυθεὶς πατέρʼ ἐσθλὸν ὀδύρετο, δάκρυα λείβων,
ἀμφοτέροισι δὲ τοῖσιν ὑφʼ ἵμερος ὦρτο γόοιο·
κλαῖον δὲ λιγέως, ἀδινώτερον ἤ τʼ οἰωνοί,
φῆναι ἢ αἰγυπιοὶ γαμψώνυχες, οἷσί τε τέκνα
ἀγρόται ἐξείλοντο πάρος πετεηνὰ γενέσθαι·
ὣς ἄρα τοί γʼ ἐλεεινὸν ὑπʼ ὀφρύσι δάκρυον εἶβον.
καί νύ κʼ ὀδυρομένοισιν ἔδυ φάος ἠελίοιο,
εἰ μὴ Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεεν ὃν πατέρʼ αἶψα·
ποίῃ γὰρ νῦν δεῦρο, πάτερ φίλε, νηΐ σε ναῦται
ἤγαγον εἰς Ἰθάκην; τίνες ἔμμεναι εὐχετόωντο;
οὐ μὲν γάρ τί σε πεζὸν ὀΐομαι ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, τέκνον, ἀληθείην καταλέξω.
Φαίηκές μʼ ἄγαγον ναυσίκλυτοι, οἵ τε καὶ ἄλλους
ἀνθρώπους πέμπουσιν, ὅτις σφέας εἰσαφίκηται·
καί μʼ εὕδοντʼ ἐν νηῒ θοῇ ἐπὶ πόντον ἄγοντες
κάτθεσαν εἰς Ἰθάκην, ἔπορον δέ μοι ἀγλαὰ δῶρα,
χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά θʼ ὑφαντήν.
καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν σπήεσσι θεῶν ἰότητι κέονται·
νῦν αὖ δεῦρʼ ἱκόμην ὑποθημοσύνῃσιν Ἀθήνης,
ὄφρα κε δυσμενέεσσι φόνου πέρι βουλεύσωμεν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι μνηστῆρας ἀριθμήσας κατάλεξον,
ὄφρʼ εἰδέω ὅσσοι τε καὶ οἵ τινες ἀνέρες εἰσί·
καί κεν ἐμὸν κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονα μερμηρίξας
φράσσομαι, ἤ κεν νῶϊ δυνησόμεθʼ ἀντιφέρεσθαι
μούνω ἄνευθʼ ἄλλων, ἦ καὶ διζησόμεθʼ ἄλλους.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ὦ πάτερ, ἦ τοι σεῖο μέγα κλέος αἰὲν ἄκουον,
χεῖράς τʼ αἰχμητὴν ἔμεναι καὶ ἐπίφρονα βουλήν·
ἀλλὰ λίην μέγα εἶπες· ἄγη μʼ ἔχει· οὐδέ κεν εἴη
ἄνδρε δύω πολλοῖσι καὶ ἰφθίμοισι μάχεσθαι.
μνηστήρων δʼ οὔτʼ ἂρ δεκὰς ἀτρεκὲς οὔτε δύʼ οἶαι,
ἀλλὰ πολὺ πλέονες· τάχα δʼ εἴσεαι ἐνθάδʼ ἀριθμόν.
ἐκ μὲν Δουλιχίοιο δύω καὶ πεντήκοντα
κοῦροι κεκριμένοι, ἓξ δὲ δρηστῆρες ἕπονται·
ἐκ δὲ Σάμης πίσυρές τε καὶ εἴκοσι φῶτες ἔασιν,
ἐκ δὲ Ζακύνθου ἔασιν ἐείκοσι κοῦροι Ἀχαιῶν,
ἐκ δʼ αὐτῆς Ἰθάκης δυοκαίδεκα πάντες ἄριστοι,
καί σφιν ἅμʼ ἐστὶ Μέδων κῆρυξ καὶ θεῖος ἀοιδὸς
καὶ δοιὼ θεράποντε, δαήμονε δαιτροσυνάων.
τῶν εἴ κεν πάντων ἀντήσομεν ἔνδον ἐόντων,
μὴ πολύπικρα καὶ αἰνὰ βίας ἀποτίσεαι ἐλθών.
ἀλλὰ σύ γʼ, εἰ δύνασαί τινʼ ἀμύντορα μερμηρίξαι,
φράζευ, ὅ κέν τις νῶϊν ἀμύνοι πρόφρονι θυμῷ.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
τοιγὰρ ἐγὼν ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο καί μευ ἄκουσον·
καὶ φράσαι ἤ κεν νῶϊν Ἀθήνη σὺν Διὶ πατρὶ
ἀρκέσει, ἦέ τινʼ ἄλλον ἀμύντορα μερμηρίξω.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ἐσθλώ τοι τούτω γʼ ἐπαμύντορε, τοὺς ἀγορεύεις,
ὕψι περ ἐν νεφέεσσι καθημένω· ὥ τε καὶ ἄλλοις
ἀνδράσι τε κρατέουσι καὶ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
οὐ μέν τοι κείνω γε πολὺν χρόνον ἀμφὶς ἔσεσθον
φυλόπιδος κρατερῆς, ὁπότε μνηστῆρσι καὶ ἡμῖν
ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσι μένος κρίνηται Ἄρηος.
ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν νῦν ἔρχευ ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν
οἴκαδε, καὶ μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ὁμίλει·
αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ προτὶ ἄστυ συβώτης ὕστερον ἄξει,
πτωχῷ λευγαλέῳ ἐναλίγκιον ἠδὲ γέροντι.
εἰ δέ μʼ ἀτιμήσουσι δόμον κάτα, σὸν δὲ φίλον κῆρ
τετλάτω ἐν στήθεσσι κακῶς πάσχοντος ἐμεῖο,
ἤν περ καὶ διὰ δῶμα ποδῶν ἕλκωσι θύραζε
ἢ βέλεσι βάλλωσι· σὺ δʼ εἰσορόων ἀνέχεσθαι.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι παύεσθαι ἀνωγέμεν ἀφροσυνάων,
μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι παραυδῶν· οἱ δέ τοι οὔ τι
πείσονται· δὴ γάρ σφι παρίσταται αἴσιμον ἦμαρ.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·
ὁππότε κεν πολύβουλος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θῇσιν Ἀθήνη,
νεύσω μέν τοι ἐγὼ κεφαλῇ, σὺ δʼ ἔπειτα νοήσας
ὅσσα τοι ἐν μεγάροισιν Ἀρήϊα τεύχεα κεῖται
ἐς μυχὸν ὑψηλοῦ θαλάμου καταθεῖναι ἀείρας
πάντα μάλʼ· αὐτὰρ μνηστῆρας μαλακοῖς ἐπέεσσι
παρφάσθαι, ὅτε κέν σε μεταλλῶσιν ποθέοντες·
ἐκ καπνοῦ κατέθηκʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τοῖσιν ἐῴκει
οἷά ποτε Τροίηνδε κιὼν κατέλειπεν Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἀλλὰ κατῄκισται, ὅσσον πυρὸς ἵκετʼ ἀϋτμή.
πρὸς δʼ ἔτι καὶ τόδε μεῖζον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε Κρονίων,
μή πως οἰνωθέντες, ἔριν στήσαντες ἐν ὑμῖν,
ἀλλήλους τρώσητε καταισχύνητέ τε δαῖτα
καὶ μνηστύν· αὐτὸς γὰρ ἐφέλκεται ἄνδρα σίδηρος.
νῶϊν δʼ οἴοισιν δύο φάσγανα καὶ δύο δοῦρε
καλλιπέειν καὶ δοιὰ βοάγρια χερσὶν ἑλέσθαι,
ὡς ἂν ἐπιθύσαντες ἑλοίμεθα· τοὺς δέ κʼ ἔπειτα
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη θέλξει καὶ μητίετα Ζεύς.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·
εἰ ἐτεόν γʼ ἐμός ἐσσι καὶ αἵματος ἡμετέροιο,
μή τις ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀκουσάτω ἔνδον ἐόντος,
μήτʼ οὖν Λαέρτης ἴστω τό γε μήτε συβώτης
μήτε τις οἰκήων μήτʼ αὐτὴ Πηνελόπεια,
ἀλλʼ οἶοι σύ τʼ ἐγώ τε γυναικῶν γνώομεν ἰθύν·
καί κέ τεο δμώων ἀνδρῶν ἔτι πειρηθεῖμεν,
ἠμὲν ὅπου τις νῶϊ τίει καὶ δείδιε θυμῷ,
ἠδʼ ὅτις οὐκ ἀλέγει, σὲ δʼ ἀτιμᾷ τοῖον ἐόντα.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσεφώνεε φαίδιμος υἱός
ὦ πάτερ, ἦ τοι ἐμὸν θυμὸν καὶ ἔπειτά γʼ, ὀΐω,
γνώσεαι· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι χαλιφροσύναι γέ μʼ ἔχουσιν·
ἀλλʼ οὔ τοι τόδε κέρδος ἐγὼν ἔσσεσθαι ὀΐω
ἡμῖν ἀμφοτέροισι· σὲ δὲ φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.
δηθὰ γὰρ αὔτως εἴσῃ ἑκάστου πειρητίζων,
ἔργα μετερχόμενος· τοὶ δʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἕκηλοι
χρήματα δαρδάπτουσιν ὑπέρβιον οὐδʼ ἔπι φειδώ.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοί σε γυναῖκας ἐγὼ δεδάασθαι ἄνωγα,
αἵ τέ σʼ ἀτιμάζουσι καὶ αἳ νηλείτιδές εἰσιν·
ἀνδρῶν δʼ οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε κατὰ σταθμοὺς ἐθέλοιμι
ἡμέας πειράζειν, ἀλλʼ ὕστερα ταῦτα πένεσθαι,
εἰ ἐτεόν γέ τι οἶσθα Διὸς τέρας αἰγιόχοιο.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
ἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτʼ Ἰθάκηνδε κατήγετο νηῦς εὐεργής,
ἣ φέρε Τηλέμαχον Πυλόθεν καὶ πάντας ἑταίρους.
οἱ δʼ ὅτε δὴ λιμένος πολυβενθέος ἐντὸς ἵκοντο,
νῆα μὲν οἵ γε μέλαιναν ἐπʼ ἠπείροιο ἔρυσσαν,
τεύχεα δέ σφʼ ἀπένεικαν ὑπέρθυμοι θεράποντες,
αὐτίκα δʼ ἐς Κλυτίοιο φέρον περικαλλέα δῶρα.
αὐτὰρ κήρυκα πρόεσαν δόμον εἰς Ὀδυσῆος,
ἀγγελίην ἐρέοντα περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,
οὕνεκα Τηλέμαχος μὲν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ, νῆα δʼ ἀνώγει
ἄστυδʼ ἀποπλείειν, ἵνα μὴ δείσασʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
ἰφθίμη βασίλεια τέρεν κατὰ δάκρυον εἴβοι
τὼ δὲ συναντήτην κῆρυξ καὶ δῖος ὑφορβὸς
τῆς αὐτῆς ἕνεκʼ ἀγγελίης, ἐρέοντε γυναικί.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἵκοντο δόμον θείου βασιλῆος,
κῆρυξ μέν ῥα μέσῃσι μετὰ δμῳῇσιν ἔειπεν·
ἤδη τοι, βασίλεια, φίλος πάϊς εἰλήλουθε.
Πηνελοπείῃ δʼ εἶπε συβώτης ἄγχι παραστὰς
πάνθʼ ὅσα οἱ φίλος υἱὸς ἀνώγει μυθήσασθαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πᾶσαν ἐφημοσύνην ἀπέειπε,
βῆ ῥʼ ἴμεναι μεθʼ ὕας, λίπε δʼ ἕρκεά τε μέγαρόν τε.
μνηστῆρες δʼ ἀκάχοντο κατήφησάν τʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,
ἐκ δʼ ἦλθον μεγάροιο παρὲκ μέγα τειχίον αὐλῆς,
αὐτοῦ δὲ προπάροιθε θυράων ἑδριόωντο.
τοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρύμαχος, Πολύβου πάϊς, ἦρχʼ ἀγορεύειν·
ὦ φίλοι, ἦ μέγα ἔργον ὑπερφιάλως τετέλεσται
Τηλεμάχῳ ὁδὸς ἥδε· φάμεν δέ οἱ οὐ τελέεσθαι.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῆα μέλαιναν ἐρύσσομεν ἥ τις ἀρίστη,
ἐς δʼ ἐρέτας ἁλιῆας ἀγείρομεν, οἵ κε τάχιστα
κείνοις ἀγγείλωσι θοῶς οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι.
οὔ πω πᾶν εἴρηθʼ, ὅτʼ ἄρʼ Ἀμφίνομος ἴδε νῆα,
στρεφθεὶς ἐκ χώρης, λιμένος πολυβενθέος ἐντός,
ἱστία τε στέλλοντας ἐρετμά τε χερσὶν ἔχοντας.
ἡδὺ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐκγελάσας μετεφώνεεν οἷς ἑτάροισι·
μή τινʼ ἔτʼ ἀγγελίην ὀτρύνομεν· οἵδε γὰρ ἔνδον.
ἤ τίς σφιν τόδʼ ἔειπε θεῶν, ἢ εἴσιδον αὐτοὶ
νῆα παρερχομένην, τὴν δʼ οὐκ ἐδύναντο κιχῆναι.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἀνστάντες ἔβαν ἐπὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης,
αἶψα δὲ νῆα μέλαιναν ἐπʼ ἠπείροιο ἔρυσσαν,
τεύχεα δέ σφʼ ἀπένεικαν ὑπέρθυμοι θεράποντες.
αὐτοὶ δʼ εἰς ἀγορὴν κίον ἀθρόοι, οὐδέ τινʼ ἄλλον
εἴων οὔτε νέων μεταΐζειν οὔτε γερόντων.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·
ὢ πόποι, ὡς τόνδʼ ἄνδρα θεοὶ κακότητος ἔλυσαν.
ἤματα μὲν σκοποὶ ἷζον ἐπʼ ἄκριας ἠνεμοέσσας
αἰὲν ἐπασσύτεροι· ἅμα δʼ ἠελίῳ καταδύντι
οὔ ποτʼ ἐπʼ ἠπείρου νύκτʼ ἄσαμεν, ἀλλʼ ἐνὶ πόντῳ
νηῒ θοῇ πλείοντες ἐμίμνομεν Ἠῶ δῖαν,
Τηλέμαχον λοχόωντες, ἵνα φθίσωμεν ἑλόντες
αὐτόν· τὸν δʼ ἄρα τῆος ἀπήγαγεν οἴκαδε δαίμων,
ἡμεῖς δʼ ἐνθάδε οἱ φραζώμεθα λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον
Τηλεμάχῳ, μηδʼ ἧμας ὑπεκφύγοι· οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω
τούτου γε ζώοντος ἀνύσσεσθαι τάδε ἔργα.
αὐτὸς μὲν γὰρ ἐπιστήμων βουλῇ τε νόῳ τε,
λαοὶ δʼ οὐκέτι πάμπαν ἐφʼ ἡμῖν ἦρα φέρουσιν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγετε, πρὶν κεῖνον ὁμηγυρίσασθαι Ἀχαιοὺς
εἰς ἀγορήν—οὐ γάρ τι μεθησέμεναί μιν ὀΐω,
ἀλλʼ ἀπομηνίσει, ἐρέει δʼ ἐν πᾶσιν ἀναστὰς
οὕνεκά οἱ φόνον αἰπὺν ἐράπτομεν οὐδʼ ἐκίχημεν·
οἱ δʼ οὐκ αἰνήσουσιν ἀκούοντες κακὰ ἔργα·
μή τι κακὸν ῥέξωσι καὶ ἡμέας ἐξελάσωσι
γαίης ἡμετέρης, ἄλλων δʼ ἀφικώμεθα δῆμον·
ἀλλὰ φθέωμεν ἑλόντες ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ νόσφι πόληος
ἢ ἐν ὁδῷ· βίοτον δʼ αὐτοὶ καὶ κτήματʼ ἔχωμεν,
δασσάμενοι κατὰ μοῖραν ἐφʼ ἡμέας, οἰκία δʼ αὖτε
κείνου μητέρι δοῖμεν ἔχειν ἠδʼ ὅστις ὀπυίοι.
εἰ δʼ ὑμῖν ὅδε μῦθος ἀφανδάνει, ἀλλὰ βόλεσθε
αὐτόν τε ζώειν καὶ ἔχειν πατρώϊα πάντα,
μή οἱ χρήματʼ ἔπειτα ἅλις θυμηδέʼ ἔδωμεν
ἐνθάδʼ ἀγειρόμενοι, ἀλλʼ ἐκ μεγάροιο ἕκαστος
μνάσθω ἐέδνοισιν διζήμενος· ἡ δέ κʼ ἔπειτα
γήμαιθʼ ὅς κε πλεῖστα πόροι καὶ μόρσιμος ἔλθοι.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀμφίνομος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε,
Νίσου φαίδιμος υἱός, Ἀρητιάδαο ἄνακτος,
ὅς ῥʼ ἐκ Δουλιχίου πολυπύρου, ποιήεντος,
ἡγεῖτο μνηστῆρσι, μάλιστα δὲ Πηνελοπείῃ
ἥνδανε μύθοισι· φρεσὶ γὰρ κέχρητʼ ἀγαθῇσιν·
ὅ σφιν ἐϋφρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε κατακτείνειν ἐθέλοιμι
Τηλέμαχον· δεινὸν δὲ γένος βασιλήϊόν ἐστιν
κτείνειν· ἀλλὰ πρῶτα θεῶν εἰρώμεθα βουλάς.
εἰ μέν κʼ αἰνήσωσι Διὸς μεγάλοιο θέμιστες,
αὐτός τε κτενέω τούς τʼ ἄλλους πάντας ἀνώξω·
εἰ δέ κʼ ἀποτρωπῶσι θεοί, παύσασθαι ἄνωγα.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀμφίνομος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀνστάντες ἔβαν δόμον εἰς Ὀδυσῆος,
ἐλθόντες δὲ καθῖζον ἐπὶ ξεστοῖσι θρόνοισιν.
ἡ δʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
μνηστήρεσσι φανῆναι ὑπέρβιον ὕβριν ἔχουσι.
πεύθετο γὰρ οὗ παιδὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὄλεθρον·
κῆρυξ γάρ οἱ ἔειπε Μέδων, ὃς ἐπεύθετο βουλάς.
βῆ δʼ ἰέναι μέγαρόνδε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξίν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ μνηστῆρας ἀφίκετο δῖα γυναικῶν,
στῆ ῥα παρὰ σταθμὸν τέγεος πύκα ποιητοῖο,
ἄντα παρειάων σχομένη λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα,
Ἀντίνοον δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
Ἀντίνοʼ, ὕβριν ἔχων, κακομήχανε, καὶ δέ σέ φασιν
ἐν δήμῳ Ἰθάκης μεθʼ ὁμήλικας ἔμμεν ἄριστον
βουλῇ καὶ μύθοισι· σὺ δʼ οὐκ ἄρα τοῖος ἔησθα.
μάργε, τίη δὲ σὺ Τηλεμάχῳ θάνατόν τε μόρον τε
ῥάπτεις, οὐδʼ ἱκέτας ἐμπάζεαι, οἷσιν ἄρα Ζεὺς
μάρτυρος; οὐδʼ ὁσίη κακὰ ῥάπτειν ἀλλήλοισιν.
ἦ οὐκ οἶσθʼ ὅτε δεῦρο πατὴρ τεὸς ἵκετο φεύγων,
δῆμον ὑποδείσας; δὴ γὰρ κεχολώατο λίην,
οὕνεκα ληϊστῆρσιν ἐπισπόμενος Ταφίοισιν
ἤκαχε Θεσπρωτούς· οἱ δʼ ἡμῖν ἄρθμιοι ἦσαν·
τόν ῥʼ ἔθελον φθῖσαι καὶ ἀπορραῖσαι φίλον ἦτορ
ἠδὲ κατὰ ζωὴν φαγέειν μενοεικέα πολλήν·
ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατέρυκε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱεμένους περ.
τοῦ νῦν οἶκον ἄτιμον ἔδεις, μνάᾳ δὲ γυναῖκα
παῖδά τʼ ἀποκτείνεις, ἐμὲ δὲ μεγάλως ἀκαχίζεις·
ἀλλά σε παύσασθαι κέλομαι καὶ ἀνωγέμεν ἄλλους.
τὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύμαχος, Πολύβου πάϊς, ἀντίον ηὔδα·
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρον Πηνελόπεια,
θάρσει· μή τοι ταῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι μελόντων.
οὐκ ἔσθʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ οὐδʼ ἔσσεται οὐδὲ γένηται,
ὅς κεν Τηλεμάχῳ σῷ υἱέϊ χεῖρας ἐποίσει
ζώοντός γʼ ἐμέθεν καὶ ἐπὶ χθονὶ δερκομένοιο.
ὧδε γὰρ ἐξερέω, καὶ μὴν τετελεσμένον ἔσται·
αἶψά οἱ αἷμα κελαινὸν ἐρωήσει περὶ δουρὶ
ἡμετέρῳ, ἐπεὶ ἦ καὶ ἐμὲ πτολίπορθος Ὀδυσσεὺς
πολλάκι γούνασιν οἷσιν ἐφεσσάμενος κρέας ὀπτὸν
ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔθηκεν, ἐπέσχε τε οἶνον ἐρυθρόν.
τῷ μοι Τηλέμαχος πάντων πολὺ φίλτατός ἐστιν
ἀνδρῶν, οὐδέ τί μιν θάνατον τρομέεσθαι ἄνωγα
ἔκ γε μνηστήρων· θεόθεν δʼ οὐκ ἔστʼ ἀλέασθαι.
ὣς φάτο θαρσύνων, τῷ δʼ ἤρτυεν αὐτὸς ὄλεθρον.
ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ εἰσαναβᾶσʼ ὑπερώϊα σιγαλόεντα
κλαῖεν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα, φίλον πόσιν, ὄφρα οἱ ὕπνον
ἡδὺν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι βάλε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
ἑσπέριος δʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ καὶ υἱέϊ δῖος ὑφορβὸς
ἤλυθεν· οἱ δʼ ἄρα δόρπον ἐπισταδὸν ὡπλίζοντο,
σῦν ἱερεύσαντες ἐνιαύσιον. αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη,
ἄγχι παρισταμένη, Λαερτιάδην Ὀδυσῆα
ῥάβδῳ πεπληγυῖα πάλιν ποίησε γέροντα,
λυγρὰ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσε περὶ χροΐ, μή ἑ συβώτης
γνοίη ἐσάντα ἰδὼν καὶ ἐχέφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ
ἔλθοι ἀπαγγέλλων μηδὲ φρεσὶν εἰρύσσαιτο.
τὸν καὶ Τηλέμαχος πρότερος πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
ἦλθες, δῖʼ Εὔμαιε. τί δὴ κλέος ἔστʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ;
ἦ ῥʼ ἤδη μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες ἔνδον ἔασιν
ἐκ λόχου, ἦ ἔτι μʼ αὖτʼ εἰρύαται οἴκαδʼ ἰόντα;
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
οὐκ ἔμελέν μοι ταῦτα μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι
ἄστυ καταβλώσκοντα· τάχιστά με θυμὸς ἀνώγει
ἀγγελίην εἰπόντα πάλιν δεῦρʼ ἀπονέεσθαι.
ὡμήρησε δέ μοι παρʼ ἑταίρων ἄγγελος ὠκύς,
κῆρυξ, ὃς δὴ πρῶτος ἔπος σῇ μητρὶ ἔειπεν.
ἄλλο δέ τοι τό γε οἶδα· τὸ γὰρ ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν.
ἤδη ὑπὲρ πόλιος, ὅθι θʼ Ἕρμαιος λόφος ἐστίν,
ἦα κιών, ὅτε νῆα θοὴν ἰδόμην κατιοῦσαν
ἐς λιμένʼ ἡμέτερον· πολλοὶ δʼ ἔσαν ἄνδρες ἐν αὐτῇ,
βεβρίθει δὲ σάκεσσι καὶ ἔγχεσιν ἀμφιγύοισι·
καὶ σφέας ὠΐσθην τοὺς ἔμμεναι, οὐδέ τι οἶδα.
ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο
ἐς πατέρʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδών, ἀλέεινε δʼ ὑφορβόν.
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν παύσαντο πόνου τετύκοντό τε δαῖτα,
δαίνυντʼ, οὐδέ τι θυμὸς ἐδεύετο δαιτὸς ἐΐσης.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
κοίτου τε μνήσαντο καὶ ὕπνου δῶρον ἕλοντο.

### Book 17

ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
δὴ τότʼ ἔπειθʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα
Τηλέμαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,
εἵλετο δʼ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος, ὅ οἱ παλάμηφιν ἀρήρει,
ἄστυδε ἱέμενος, καὶ ἑὸν προσέειπε συβώτην·
ἄττʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼν εἶμʼ ἐς πόλιν, ὄφρα με μήτηρ
ὄψεται· οὐ γάρ μιν πρόσθεν παύσεσθαι ὀΐω
κλαυθμοῦ τε στυγεροῖο γόοιό τε δακρυόεντος,
πρίν γʼ αὐτόν με ἴδηται· ἀτὰρ σοί γʼ ὧδʼ ἐπιτέλλω.
τὸν ξεῖνον δύστηνον ἄγʼ ἐς πόλιν, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἐκεῖθι
δαῖτα πτωχεύῃ· δώσει δέ οἱ ὅς κʼ ἐθέλῃσι
πύρνον καὶ κοτύλην· ἐμὲ δʼ οὔ πως ἔστιν ἅπαντας
ἀνθρώπους ἀνέχεσθαι, ἔχοντά περ ἄλγεα θυμῷ·
ὁ ξεῖνος δʼ εἴ περ μάλα μηνίει, ἄλγιον αὐτῷ
ἔσσεται· ἦ γὰρ ἐμοὶ φίλʼ ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ φίλος, οὐδέ τοι αὐτὸς ἐρύκεσθαι μενεαίνω·
πτωχῷ βέλτερόν ἐστι κατὰ πτόλιν ἠὲ κατʼ ἀγροὺς
δαῖτα πτωχεύειν· δώσει δέ μοι ὅς κʼ ἐθέλῃσιν.
οὐ γὰρ ἐπὶ σταθμοῖσι μένειν ἔτι τηλίκος εἰμί,
ὥστʼ ἐπιτειλαμένῳ σημάντορι πάντα πιθέσθαι.
ἀλλʼ ἔρχευ· ἐμὲ δʼ ἄξει ἀνὴρ ὅδε, τὸν σὺ κελεύεις,
αὐτίκʼ ἐπεί κε πυρὸς θερέω ἀλέη τε γένηται.
αἰνῶς γὰρ τάδε εἵματʼ ἔχω κακά· μή με δαμάσσῃ
στίβη ὑπηοίη· ἕκαθεν δέ τε ἄστυ φάτʼ εἶναι.
ὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ διὰ σταθμοῖο βεβήκει,
κραιπνὰ ποσὶ προβιβάς, κακὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσι φύτευεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἵκανε δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,
ἔγχος μέν ῥʼ ἔστησε φέρων πρὸς κίονα μακρήν,
αὐτὸς δʼ εἴσω ἴεν καὶ ὑπέρβη λάϊνον οὐδόν.
τὸν δὲ πολὺ πρώτη εἶδε τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια,
κώεα καστορνῦσα θρόνοις ἔνι δαιδαλέοισι,
δακρύσασα δʼ ἔπειτʼ ἰθὺς κίεν· ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἄλλαι
δμῳαὶ Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος ἠγερέθοντο,
καὶ κύνεον ἀγαπαζόμεναι κεφαλήν τε καὶ ὤμους.
ἡ δʼ ἴεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
Ἀρτέμιδι ἰκέλη ἠὲ χρυσέῃ Ἀφροδίτῃ,
ἀμφὶ δὲ παιδὶ φίλῳ βάλε πήχεε δακρύσασα,
κύσσε δέ μιν κεφαλήν τε καὶ ἄμφω φάεα καλά,
καί ῥʼ ὀλοφυρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ἦλθες, Τηλέμαχε, γλυκερὸν φάος. οὔ σʼ ἔτʼ ἐγώ γε
ὄψεσθαι ἐφάμην, ἐπεὶ ᾤχεο νηῒ Πύλονδε
λάθρη, ἐμεῦ ἀέκητι, φίλου μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουήν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι κατάλεξον ὅπως ἤντησας ὀπωπῆς.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
μῆτερ ἐμή, μή μοι γόον ὄρνυθι μηδέ μοι ἦτορ
ἐν στήθεσσιν ὄρινε φυγόντι περ αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον·
ἀλλʼ ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθʼ ἑλοῦσα,
εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν
εὔχεο πᾶσι θεοῖσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας
ῥέξειν, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς ἄντιτα ἔργα τελέσσῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἀγορὴν ἐσελεύσομαι, ὄφρα καλέσσω
ξεῖνον, ὅτις μοι κεῖθεν ἅμʼ ἕσπετο δεῦρο κιόντι.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ προὔπεμψα σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισι,
Πείραιον δέ μιν ἠνώγεα προτὶ οἶκον ἄγοντα
ἐνδυκέως φιλέειν καὶ τιέμεν, εἰς ὅ κεν ἔλθω.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, τῇ δʼ ἄπτερος ἔπλετο μῦθος.
ἡ δʼ ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθʼ ἑλοῦσα,
εὔχετο πᾶσι θεοῖσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας
ῥέξειν, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς ἄντιτα ἔργα τελέσσῃ.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει
ἔγχος ἔχων· ἅμα τῷ γε δύω κύνες ἀργοὶ ἕποντο.
θεσπεσίην δʼ ἄρα τῷ γε χάριν κατέχευεν Ἀθήνη·
τὸν δʼ ἄρα πάντες λαοὶ ἐπερχόμενον θηεῦντο.
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες ἠγερέθοντο
ἔσθλʼ ἀγορεύοντες, κακὰ δὲ φρεσὶ βυσσοδόμευον.
αὐτὰρ ὁ τῶν μὲν ἔπειτα ἀλεύατο πουλὺν ὅμιλον,
ἀλλʼ ἵνα Μέντωρ ἧστο καὶ Ἄντιφος ἠδʼ Ἁλιθέρσης,
οἵ τε οἱ ἐξ ἀρχῆς πατρώϊοι ἦσαν ἑταῖροι,
ἔνθα καθέζετʼ ἰών· τοὶ δʼ ἐξερέεινον ἕκαστα.
τοῖσι δὲ Πείραιος δουρικλυτὸς ἐγγύθεν ἦλθεν
ξεῖνον ἄγων ἀγορήνδε διὰ πτόλιν· οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτι δὴν
Τηλέμαχος ξείνοιο ἑκὰς τράπετʼ, ἀλλὰ παρέστη.
τὸν καὶ Πείραιος πρότερος πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
Τηλέμαχʼ, αἶψʼ ὄτρυνον ἐμὸν ποτὶ δῶμα γυναῖκας,
ὥς τοι δῶρʼ ἀποπέμψω, ἅ τοι Μενέλαος ἔδωκε.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Πείραιʼ, οὐ γάρ τʼ ἴδμεν ὅπως ἔσται τάδε ἔργα.
εἴ κεν ἐμὲ μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες ἐν μεγάροισι
λάθρη κτείναντες πατρώϊα πάντα δάσωνται,
αὐτὸν ἔχοντά σε βούλομʼ ἐπαυρέμεν, ἤ τινα τῶνδε·
εἰ δέ κʼ ἐγὼ τούτοισι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φυτεύσω,
δὴ τότε μοι χαίροντι φέρειν πρὸς δώματα χαίρων.
ὣς εἰπὼν ξεῖνον ταλαπείριον ἦγεν ἐς οἶκον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἵκοντο δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,
χλαίνας μὲν κατέθεντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε,
ἐς δʼ ἀσαμίνθους βάντες ἐϋξέστας λούσαντο.
τοὺς δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δμῳαὶ λοῦσαν καὶ χρῖσαν ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα χλαίνας οὔλας βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,
ἔκ ῥʼ ἀσαμίνθων βάντες ἐπὶ κλισμοῖσι καθῖζον.
χέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα
καλῇ χρυσείῃ, ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,
νίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.
σῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,
εἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων.
μήτηρ δʼ ἀντίον ἷζε παρὰ σταθμὸν μεγάροιο
κλισμῷ κεκλιμένη, λέπτʼ ἠλάκατα στρωφῶσα.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον,
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι ἐγὼν ὑπερώϊον εἰσαναβᾶσα
λέξομαι εἰς εὐνήν, ἥ μοι στονόεσσα τέτυκται,
αἰεὶ δάκρυσʼ ἐμοῖσι πεφυρμένη, ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ᾤχεθʼ ἅμʼ Ἀτρεΐδῃσιν ἐς Ἴλιον· οὐδέ μοι ἔτλης,
πρὶν ἐλθεῖν μνηστῆρας ἀγήνορας ἐς τόδε δῶμα,
νόστον σοῦ πατρὸς σάφα εἰπέμεν, εἴ που ἄκουσας.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, μῆτερ, ἀληθείην καταλέξω.
ᾠχόμεθʼ ἔς τε Πύλον καὶ Νέστορα, ποιμένα λαῶν·
δεξάμενος δέ με κεῖνος ἐν ὑψηλοῖσι δόμοισιν
ἐνδυκέως ἐφίλει, ὡς εἴ τε πατὴρ ἑὸν υἱὸν
ἐλθόντα χρόνιον νέον ἄλλοθεν· ὣς ἐμὲ κεῖνος
ἐνδυκέως ἐκόμιζε σὺν υἱάσι κυδαλίμοισιν.
αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος οὔ ποτʼ ἔφασκεν,
ζωοῦ οὐδὲ θανόντος, ἐπιχθονίων τευ ἀκοῦσαι·
ἀλλά μʼ ἐς Ἀτρεΐδην, δουρικλειτὸν Μενέλαον,
ἵπποισι προὔπεμψε καὶ ἅρμασι κολλητοῖσιν.
ἔνθʼ ἴδον Ἀργείην Ἑλένην, ἧς εἵνεκα πολλὰ
Ἀργεῖοι Τρῶές τε θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησαν.
εἴρετο δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος
ὅττευ χρηΐζων ἱκόμην Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τῷ πᾶσαν ἀληθείην κατέλεξα·
καὶ τότε δή με ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ κρατερόφρονος ἀνδρὸς ἐν εὐνῇ
ἤθελον εὐνηθῆναι, ἀνάλκιδες αὐτοὶ ἐόντες.
ὡς δʼ ὁπότʼ ἐν ξυλόχῳ ἔλαφος κρατεροῖο λέοντος
νεβροὺς κοιμήσασα νεηγενέας γαλαθηνοὺς
κνημοὺς ἐξερέῃσι καὶ ἄγκεα ποιήεντα
βοσκομένη, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα ἑὴν εἰσήλυθεν εὐνήν,
ἀμφοτέροισι δὲ τοῖσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφῆκεν,
ὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κείνοισιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφήσει.
αἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,
τοῖος ἐὼν οἷός ποτʼ ἐϋκτιμένῃ ἐνὶ Λέσβῳ
ἐξ ἔριδος Φιλομηλεΐδῃ ἐπάλαισεν ἀναστάς,
κὰδ δʼ ἔβαλε κρατερῶς, κεχάροντο δὲ πάντες Ἀχαιοί,
τοῖος ἐὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμιλήσειεν Ὀδυσσεύς·
πάντες κʼ ὠκύμοροί τε γενοίατο πικρόγαμοί τε.
ταῦτα δʼ ἅ μʼ εἰρωτᾷς καὶ λίσσεαι, οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε
ἄλλα παρὲξ εἴποιμι παρακλιδὸν οὐδʼ ἀπατήσω,
ἀλλὰ τὰ μέν μοι ἔειπε γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής,
τῶν οὐδέν τοι ἐγὼ κρύψω ἔπος οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω.
φῆ μιν ὅ γʼ ἐν νήσῳ ἰδέειν κρατέρʼ ἄλγεʼ ἔχοντα,
νύμφης ἐν μεγάροισι Καλυψοῦς, ἥ μιν ἀνάγκῃ
ἴσχει· ὁ δʼ οὐ δύναται ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.
οὐ γάρ οἱ πάρα νῆες ἐπήρετμοι καὶ ἑταῖροι,
οἵ κέν μιν πέμποιεν ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης
ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀτρεΐδης, δουρικλειτὸς Μενέλαος.
ταῦτα τελευτήσας νεόμην· ἔδοσαν δέ μοι οὖρον
ἀθάνατοι, τοί μʼ ὦκα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔπεμψαν.
ὣς φάτο, τῇ δʼ ἄρα θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ὄρινε.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε Θεοκλύμενος θεοειδής·
ὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
ἦ τοι ὅ γʼ οὐ σάφα οἶδεν, ἐμεῖο δὲ σύνθεο μῦθον·
ἀτρεκέως γάρ σοι μαντεύσομαι οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω·
ἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα θεῶν, ξενίη τε τράπεζα
ἱστίη τʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ἣν ἀφικάνω,
ὡς ἦ τοι Ὀδυσεὺς ἤδη ἐν πατρίδι γαίῃ,
ἥμενος ἢ ἕρπων, τάδε πευθόμενος κακὰ ἔργα,
ἔστιν, ἀτὰρ μνηστῆρσι κακὸν πάντεσσι φυτεύει·
τοῖον ἐγὼν οἰωνὸν ἐϋσσέλμου ἐπὶ νηὸς
ἥμενος ἐφρασάμην καὶ Τηλεμάχῳ ἐγεγώνευν.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
αἲ γὰρ τοῦτο, ξεῖνε, ἔπος τετελεσμένον εἴη·
τῷ κε τάχα γνοίης φιλότητά τε πολλά τε δῶρα
ἐξ ἐμεῦ, ὡς ἄν τίς σε συναντόμενος μακαρίζοι.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
μνηστῆρες δὲ πάροιθεν Ὀδυσσῆος μεγάροιο
δίσκοισιν τέρποντο καὶ αἰγανέῃσιν ἱέντες,
ἐν τυκτῷ δαπέδῳ, ὅθι περ πάρος ὕβριν ἔχοντες.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ δείπνηστος ἔην καὶ ἐπήλυθε μῆλα
πάντοθεν ἐξ ἀγρῶν, οἱ δʼ ἤγαγον οἳ τὸ πάρος περ,
καὶ τότε δή σφιν ἔειπε Μέδων· ὃς γάρ ῥα μάλιστα
ἥνδανε κηρύκων, καί σφιν παρεγίγνετο δαιτί·
κοῦροι, ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντες ἐτέρφθητε φρένʼ ἀέθλοις,
ἔρχεσθε πρὸς δώμαθʼ, ἵνʼ ἐντυνώμεθα δαῖτα·
οὐ μὲν γάρ τι χέρειον ἐν ὥρῃ δεῖπνον ἑλέσθαι.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἀνστάντες ἔβαν πείθοντό τε μύθῳ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἵκοντο δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,
χλαίνας μὲν κατέθεντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε,
οἱ δʼ ἱέρευον ὄϊς μεγάλους καὶ πίονας αἶγας,
ἵρευον δὲ σύας σιάλους καὶ βοῦν ἀγελαίην,
δαῖτʼ ἐντυνόμενοι. τοὶ δʼ ἐξ ἀγροῖο πόλινδε
ὠτρύνοντʼ Ὀδυσεύς τʼ ἰέναι καὶ δῖος ὑφορβός.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·
ξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ ἂρ δὴ ἔπειτα πόλινδʼ ἰέναι μενεαίνεις
σήμερον, ὡς ἐπέτελλεν ἄναξ ἐμός—ἦ σʼ ἂν ἐγώ γε
αὐτοῦ βουλοίμην σταθμῶν ῥυτῆρα λιπέσθαι·
ἀλλὰ τὸν αἰδέομαι καὶ δείδια, μή μοι ὀπίσσω
νεικείῃ· χαλεπαὶ δέ τʼ ἀνάκτων εἰσὶν ὁμοκλαί—
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἴομεν· δὴ γὰρ μέμβλωκε μάλιστα
ἦμαρ, ἀτὰρ τάχα τοι ποτὶ ἕσπερα ῥίγιον ἔσται.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
γιγνώσκω, φρονέω· τά γε δὴ νοέοντι κελεύεις.
ἀλλʼ ἴομεν, σὺ δʼ ἔπειτα διαμπερὲς ἡγεμόνευε.
δὸς δέ μοι, εἴ ποθί τοι ῥόπαλον τετμημένον ἐστίν,
σκηρίπτεσθʼ, ἐπεὶ ἦ φατʼ ἀρισφαλέʼ ἔμμεναι οὐδόν.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἀεικέα βάλλετο πήρην,
πυκνὰ ῥωγαλέην· ἐν δὲ στρόφος ἦεν ἀορτήρ·
Εὔμαιος δʼ ἄρα οἱ σκῆπτρον θυμαρὲς ἔδωκε.
τὼ βήτην, σταθμὸν δὲ κύνες καὶ βώτορες ἄνδρες
ῥύατʼ ὄπισθε μένοντες· ὁ δʼ ἐς πόλιν ἦγεν ἄνακτα
πτωχῷ λευγαλέῳ ἐναλίγκιον ἠδὲ γέροντι,
σκηπτόμενον· τὰ δὲ λυγρὰ περὶ χροῒ εἵματα ἕστο.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ στείχοντες ὁδὸν κάτα παιπαλόεσσαν
ἄστεος ἐγγὺς ἔσαν καὶ ἐπὶ κρήνην ἀφίκοντο
τυκτὴν καλλίροον, ὅθεν ὑδρεύοντο πολῖται,
τὴν ποίησʼ Ἴθακος καὶ Νήριτος ἠδὲ Πολύκτωρ·
ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρʼ αἰγείρων ὑδατοτρεφέων ἦν ἄλσος,
πάντοσε κυκλοτερές, κατὰ δὲ ψυχρὸν ῥέεν ὕδωρ
ὑψόθεν ἐκ πέτρης· βωμὸς δʼ ἐφύπερθε τέτυκτο
νυμφάων, ὅθι πάντες ἐπιρρέζεσκον ὁδῖται·
ἔνθα σφέας ἐκίχανʼ υἱὸς Δολίοιο Μελανθεὺς
αἶγας ἄγων, αἳ πᾶσι μετέπρεπον αἰπολίοισι,
δεῖπνον μνηστήρεσσι· δύω δʼ ἅμʼ ἕποντο νομῆες.
τοὺς δὲ ἰδὼν νείκεσσεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν,
ἔκπαγλον καὶ ἀεικές· ὄρινε δὲ κῆρ Ὀδυσῆος·
νῦν μὲν δὴ μάλα πάγχυ κακὸς κακὸν ἡγηλάζει,
ὡς αἰεὶ τὸν ὁμοῖον ἄγει θεὸς ὡς τὸν ὁμοῖον.
πῇ δὴ τόνδε μολοβρὸν ἄγεις, ἀμέγαρτε συβῶτα,
πτωχὸν ἀνιηρόν δαιτῶν ἀπολυμαντῆρα;
ὃς πολλῇς φλιῇσι παραστὰς θλίψεται ὤμους,
αἰτίζων ἀκόλους, οὐκ ἄορας οὐδὲ λέβητας·
τόν κʼ εἴ μοι δοίης σταθμῶν ῥυτῆρα γενέσθαι
σηκοκόρον τʼ ἔμεναι θαλλόν τʼ ἐρίφοισι φορῆναι,
καί κεν ὀρὸν πίνων μεγάλην ἐπιγουνίδα θεῖτο.
ἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δὴ ἔργα κάκʼ ἔμμαθεν, οὐκ ἐθελήσει
ἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι, ἀλλὰ πτώσσων κατὰ δῆμον
βούλεται αἰτίζων βόσκειν ἣν γαστέρʼ ἄναλτον.
ἀλλʼ ἔκ τοι ἐρέω, τὸ δὲ καὶ τετελεσμένον ἔσται·
αἴ κʼ ἔλθῃ πρὸς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,
πολλά οἱ ἀμφὶ κάρη σφέλα ἀνδρῶν ἐκ παλαμάων
πλευραὶ ἀποτρίψουσι δόμον κάτα βαλλομένοιο.
ὣς φάτο, καὶ παριὼν λὰξ ἔνθορεν ἀφραδίῃσιν
ἰσχίῳ· οὐδέ μιν ἐκτὸς ἀταρπιτοῦ ἐστυφέλιξεν,
ἀλλʼ ἔμενʼ ἀσφαλέως· ὁ δὲ μερμήριξεν Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἠὲ μεταΐξας ῥοπάλῳ ἐκ θυμὸν ἕλοιτο,
ἦ πρὸς γῆν ἐλάσειε κάρη ἀμφουδὶς ἀείρας.
ἀλλʼ ἐπετόλμησε, φρεσὶ δʼ ἔσχετο· τὸν δὲ συβώτης
νείκεσʼ ἐσάντα ἰδών, μέγα δʼ εὔξατο χεῖρας ἀνασχών·
νύμφαι κρηναῖαι, κοῦραι Διός, εἴ ποτʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὔμμʼ ἐπὶ μηρίʼ ἔκηε, καλύψας πίονι δημῷ,
ἀρνῶν ἠδʼ ἐρίφων, τόδε μοι κρηήνατʼ ἐέλδωρ,
ὡς ἔλθοι μὲν κεῖνος ἀνήρ, ἀγάγοι δέ ἑ δαίμων·
τῷ κέ τοι ἀγλαΐας γε διασκεδάσειεν ἁπάσας,
τὰς νῦν ὑβρίζων φορέεις, ἀλαλήμενος αἰεὶ
ἄστυ κάτʼ· αὐτὰρ μῆλα κακοὶ φθείρουσι νομῆες.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν·
ὢ πόποι, οἷον ἔειπε κύων ὀλοφώϊα εἰδώς,
τόν ποτʼ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νηὸς ἐϋσσέλμοιο μελαίνης
ἄξω τῆλʼ Ἰθάκης, ἵνα μοι βίοτον πολὺν ἄλφοι.
αἲ γὰρ Τηλέμαχον βάλοι ἀργυρότοξος Ἀπόλλων
σήμερον ἐν μεγάροις, ἢ ὑπὸ μνηστῆρσι δαμείη,
ὡς Ὀδυσῆΐ γε τηλοῦ ἀπώλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.
ὣς εἰπὼν τοὺς μὲν λίπεν αὐτοῦ ἦκα κιόντας,
αὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ, μάλα δʼ ὦκα δόμους ἵκανεν ἄνακτος.
αὐτίκα δʼ εἴσω ἴεν, μετὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσι καθῖζεν,
ἀντίον Εὐρυμάχου· τὸν γὰρ φιλέεσκε μάλιστα.
τῷ πάρα μὲν κρειῶν μοῖραν θέσαν οἳ πονέοντο,
σῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα
ἔδμεναι. ἀγχίμολον δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ δῖος ὑφορβὸς
στήτην ἐρχομένω, περὶ δέ σφεας ἤλυθʼ ἰωὴ
φόρμιγγος γλαφυρῆς· ἀνὰ γάρ σφισι βάλλετʼ ἀείδειν
Φήμιος· αὐτὰρ ὁ χειρὸς ἑλὼν προσέειπε συβώτην·
Εὔμαιʼ, ἦ μάλα δὴ τάδε δώματα κάλʼ Ὀδυσῆος,
ῥεῖα δʼ ἀρίγνωτʼ ἐστὶ καὶ ἐν πολλοῖσιν ἰδέσθαι.
ἐξ ἑτέρων ἕτερʼ ἐστίν, ἐπήσκηται δέ οἱ αὐλὴ
τοίχῳ καὶ θριγκοῖσι, θύραι δʼ εὐερκέες εἰσὶ
δικλίδες· οὐκ ἄν τίς μιν ἀνὴρ ὑπεροπλίσσαιτο.
γιγνώσκω δʼ ὅτι πολλοὶ ἐν αὐτῷ δαῖτα τίθενται
ἄνδρες, ἐπεὶ κνίση μὲν ἀνήνοθεν, ἐν δέ τε φόρμιγξ
ἠπύει, ἣν ἄρα δαιτὶ θεοὶ ποίησαν ἑταίρην.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
ῥεῖʼ ἔγνως, ἐπεὶ οὐδὲ τά τʼ ἄλλα πέρ ἐσσʼ ἀνοήμων.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε δὴ φραζώμεθʼ ὅπως ἔσται τάδε ἔργα.
ἠὲ σὺ πρῶτος ἔσελθε δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,
δύσεο δὲ μνηστῆρας, ἐγὼ δʼ ὑπολείψομαι αὐτοῦ·
εἰ δʼ ἐθέλεις, ἐπίμεινον, ἐγὼ δʼ εἶμι προπάροιθε·
μηδὲ σὺ δηθύνειν, μή τίς σʼ ἔκτοσθε νοήσας
ἢ βάλῃ ἢ ἐλάσῃ· τὰ δέ σε φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
γιγνώσκω, φρονέω· τά γε δὴ νοέοντι κελεύεις.
ἀλλʼ ἔρχευ προπάροιθεν, ἐγὼ δʼ ὑπολείψομαι αὐτοῦ.
οὐ γάρ τι πληγέων ἀδαήμων οὐδὲ βολάων·
τολμήεις μοι θυμός, ἐπεὶ κακὰ πολλὰ πέπονθα
κύμασι καὶ πολέμῳ· μετὰ καὶ τόδε τοῖσι γενέσθω·
γαστέρα δʼ οὔ πως ἔστιν ἀποκρύψαι μεμαυῖαν,
οὐλομένην, ἣ πολλὰ κάκʼ ἀνθρώποισι δίδωσι,
τῆς ἕνεκεν καὶ νῆες ἐΰζυγοι ὁπλίζονται
πόντον ἐπʼ ἀτρύγετον, κακὰ δυσμενέεσσι φέρουσαι.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·
ἂν δὲ κύων κεφαλήν τε καὶ οὔατα κείμενος ἔσχεν,
Ἄργος, Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος, ὅν ῥά ποτʼ αὐτὸς
θρέψε μέν, οὐδʼ ἀπόνητο, πάρος δʼ εἰς Ἴλιον ἱρὴν
ᾤχετο. τὸν δὲ πάροιθεν ἀγίνεσκον νέοι ἄνδρες
αἶγας ἐπʼ ἀγροτέρας ἠδὲ πρόκας ἠδὲ λαγωούς·
δὴ τότε κεῖτʼ ἀπόθεστος ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος,
ἐν πολλῇ κόπρῳ, ἥ οἱ προπάροιθε θυράων
ἡμιόνων τε βοῶν τε ἅλις κέχυτʼ, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἄγοιεν
δμῶες Ὀδυσσῆος τέμενος μέγα κοπρήσοντες·
ἔνθα κύων κεῖτʼ Ἄργος, ἐνίπλειος κυνοραιστέων.
δὴ τότε γʼ, ὡς ἐνόησεν Ὀδυσσέα ἐγγὺς ἐόντα,
οὐρῇ μέν ῥʼ ὅ γʼ ἔσηνε καὶ οὔατα κάββαλεν ἄμφω,
ἆσσον δʼ οὐκέτʼ ἔπειτα δυνήσατο οἷο ἄνακτος
ἐλθέμεν· αὐτὰρ ὁ νόσφιν ἰδὼν ἀπομόρξατο δάκρυ,
ῥεῖα λαθὼν Εὔμαιον, ἄφαρ δʼ ἐρεείνετο μύθῳ·
Εὔμαιʼ, ἦ μάλα θαῦμα, κύων ὅδε κεῖτʼ ἐνὶ κόπρῳ.
καλὸς μὲν δέμας ἐστίν, ἀτὰρ τόδε γʼ οὐ σάφα οἶδα,
εἰ δὴ καὶ ταχὺς ἔσκε θέειν ἐπὶ εἴδεϊ τῷδε,
ἦ αὔτως οἷοί τε τραπεζῆες κύνες ἀνδρῶν
γίγνοντʼ· ἀγλαΐης δʼ ἕνεκεν κομέουσιν ἄνακτες.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
καὶ λίην ἀνδρός γε κύων ὅδε τῆλε θανόντος.
εἰ τοιόσδʼ εἴη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ ἔργα,
οἷόν μιν Τροίηνδε κιὼν κατέλειπεν Ὀδυσσεύς,
αἶψά κε θηήσαιο ἰδὼν ταχυτῆτα καὶ ἀλκήν.
οὐ μὲν γάρ τι φύγεσκε βαθείης βένθεσιν ὕλης
κνώδαλον, ὅττι δίοιτο· καὶ ἴχνεσι γὰρ περιῄδη·
νῦν δʼ ἔχεται κακότητι, ἄναξ δέ οἱ ἄλλοθι πάτρης
ὤλετο, τὸν δὲ γυναῖκες ἀκηδέες οὐ κομέουσι.
δμῶες δʼ, εὖτʼ ἂν μηκέτʼ ἐπικρατέωσιν ἄνακτες,
οὐκέτʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐθέλουσιν ἐναίσιμα ἐργάζεσθαι·
ἥμισυ γάρ τʼ ἀρετῆς ἀποαίνυται εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς
ἀνέρος, εὖτʼ ἄν μιν κατὰ δούλιον ἦμαρ ἕλῃσιν.
ὣς εἰπὼν εἰσῆλθε δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,
βῆ δʼ ἰθὺς μεγάροιο μετὰ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς.
Ἄργον δʼ αὖ κατὰ μοῖρʼ ἔλαβεν μέλανος θανάτοιο,
αὐτίκʼ ἰδόντʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐεικοστῷ ἐνιαυτῷ.
τὸν δὲ πολὺ πρῶτος ἴδε Τηλέμαχος θεοειδὴς
ἐρχόμενον κατὰ δῶμα συβώτην, ὦκα δʼ ἔπειτα
νεῦσʼ ἐπὶ οἷ καλέσας· ὁ δὲ παπτήνας ἕλε δίφρον
κείμενον, ἔνθα τε δαιτρὸς ἐφίζεσκε κρέα πολλὰ
δαιόμενος μνηστῆρσι δόμον κάτα δαινυμένοισι·
τὸν κατέθηκε φέρων πρὸς Τηλεμάχοιο τράπεζαν
ἀντίον, ἔνθα δʼ ἄρʼ αὐτὸς ἐφέζετο· τῷ δʼ ἄρα κῆρυξ
μοῖραν ἑλὼν ἐτίθει κανέου τʼ ἐκ σῖτον ἀείρας.
ἀγχίμολον δὲ μετʼ αὐτὸν ἐδύσετο δώματʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
πτωχῷ λευγαλέῳ ἐναλίγκιος ἠδὲ γέροντι,
σκηπτόμενος· τὰ δὲ λυγρὰ περὶ χροΐ εἵματα ἕστο.
ἷζε δʼ ἐπὶ μελίνου οὐδοῦ ἔντοσθε θυράων,
κλινάμενος σταθμῷ κυπαρισσίνῳ, ὅν ποτε τέκτων
ξέσσεν ἐπισταμένως καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνεν.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἐπὶ οἷ καλέσας προσέειπε συβώτην,
ἄρτον τʼ οὖλον ἑλὼν περικαλλέος ἐκ κανέοιο
καὶ κρέας, ὥς οἱ χεῖρες ἐχάνδανον ἀμφιβαλόντι·
δὸς τῷ ξείνῳ ταῦτα φέρων αὐτόν τε κέλευε
αἰτίζειν μάλα πάντας ἐποιχόμενον μνηστῆρας·
αἰδὼς δʼ οὐκ ἀγαθὴ κεχρημένῳ ἀνδρὶ παρεῖναι.
ὣς φάτο, βῆ δὲ συφορβός, ἐπεὶ τὸν μῦθον ἄκουσεν,
ἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευε·
Τηλέμαχός τοι, ξεῖνε, διδοῖ τάδε, καί σε κελεύει
αἰτίζειν μάλα πάντας ἐποιχόμενον μνηστῆρας·
αἰδῶ δʼ οὐκ ἀγαθήν φησʼ ἔμμεναι ἀνδρὶ προΐκτῃ.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Ζεῦ ἄνα, Τηλέμαχόν μοι ἐν ἀνδράσιν ὄλβιον εἶναι,
καί οἱ πάντα γένοιθʼ ὅσσα φρεσὶν ᾗσι μενοινᾷ.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφοτέρῃσιν ἐδέξατο καὶ κατέθηκεν
αὖθι ποδῶν προπάροιθεν, ἀεικελίης ἐπὶ πήρης,
ἤσθιε δʼ ἧος ἀοιδὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἄειδεν·
εὖθʼ ὁ δεδειπνήκειν, ὁ δʼ ἐπαύετο θεῖος ἀοιδός.
μνηστῆρες δʼ ὁμάδησαν ἀνὰ μέγαρʼ. αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη,
ἄγχι παρισταμένη Λαερτιάδην Ὀδυσῆα
ὤτρυνʼ, ὡς ἂν πύρνα κατὰ μνηστῆρας ἀγείροι,
γνοίη θʼ οἵ τινές εἰσιν ἐναίσιμοι οἵ τʼ ἀθέμιστοι·
ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὥς τινʼ ἔμελλʼ ἀπαλεξήσειν κακότητος.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν αἰτήσων ἐνδέξια φῶτα ἕκαστον,
πάντοσε χεῖρʼ ὀρέγων, ὡς εἰ πτωχὸς πάλαι εἴη.
οἱ δʼ ἐλεαίροντες δίδοσαν, καὶ ἐθάμβεον αὐτόν,
ἀλλήλους τʼ εἴροντο τίς εἴη καὶ πόθεν ἔλθοι.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν·
κέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγακλειτῆς βασιλείης,
τοῦδε περὶ ξείνου· ἦ γάρ μιν πρόσθεν ὄπωπα.
ἦ τοι μέν οἱ δεῦρο συβώτης ἡγεμόνευεν,
αὐτὸν δʼ οὐ σάφα οἶδα, πόθεν γένος εὔχεται εἶναι.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἔπεσιν νείκεσσε συβώτην·
ὦ ἀρίγνωτε συβῶτα, τίη δὲ σὺ τόνδε πόλινδε
ἤγαγες; ἦ οὐχ ἅλις ἧμιν ἀλήμονές εἰσι καὶ ἄλλοι,
πτωχοὶ ἀνιηροί, δαιτῶν ἀπολυμαντῆρες;
ἦ ὄνοσαι ὅτι τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν ἄνακτος
ἐνθάδʼ ἀγειρόμενοι, σὺ δὲ καὶ προτὶ τόνδʼ ἐκάλεσσας;
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
Ἀντίνοʼ, οὐ μὲν καλὰ καὶ ἐσθλὸς ἐὼν ἀγορεύεις·
τίς γὰρ δὴ ξεῖνον καλεῖ ἄλλοθεν αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν
ἄλλον γʼ, εἰ μὴ τῶν οἳ δημιοεργοὶ ἔασι,
μάντιν ἢ ἰητῆρα κακῶν ἢ τέκτονα δούρων,
ἢ καὶ θέσπιν ἀοιδόν, ὅ κεν τέρπῃσιν ἀείδων;
οὗτοι γὰρ κλητοί γε βροτῶν ἐπʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν·
πτωχὸν δʼ οὐκ ἄν τις καλέοι τρύξοντα ἓ αὐτόν.
ἀλλʼ αἰεὶ χαλεπὸς περὶ πάντων εἶς μνηστήρων
δμωσὶν Ὀδυσσῆος, πέρι δʼ αὖτʼ ἐμοί· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε
οὐκ ἀλέγω, ἧός μοι ἐχέφρων Πηνελόπεια
ζώει ἐνὶ μεγάροις καὶ Τηλέμαχος θεοειδής.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
σίγα, μή μοι τοῦτον ἀμείβεο πολλὰ ἔπεσσιν·
Ἀντίνοος δʼ εἴωθε κακῶς ἐρεθιζέμεν αἰεὶ
μύθοισιν χαλεποῖσιν, ἐποτρύνει δὲ καὶ ἄλλους.
ἦ ῥα καὶ Ἀντίνοον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
Ἀντίνοʼ, ἦ μευ καλὰ πατὴρ ὣς κήδεαι υἷος,
ὃς τὸν ξεῖνον ἄνωγας ἀπὸ μεγάροιο διέσθαι
μύθῳ ἀναγκαίῳ· μὴ τοῦτο θεὸς τελέσειε.
δός οἱ ἑλών· οὔ τοι φθονέω· κέλομαι γὰρ ἐγώ γε·
μήτʼ οὖν μητέρʼ ἐμὴν ἅζευ τό γε μήτε τινʼ ἄλλον
δμώων, οἳ κατὰ δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.
ἀλλʼ οὔ τοι τοιοῦτον ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόημα·
αὐτὸς γὰρ φαγέμεν πολὺ βούλεαι ἢ δόμεν ἄλλῳ.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέειπε·
Τηλέμαχʼ ὑψαγόρη, μένος ἄσχετε, ποῖον ἔειπες.
εἴ οἱ τόσσον ἅπαντες ὀρέξειαν μνηστῆρες,
καί κέν μιν τρεῖς μῆνας ἀπόπροθεν οἶκος ἐρύκοι.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, καὶ θρῆνυν ἑλὼν ὑπέφηνε τραπέζης
κείμενον, ᾧ ῥʼ ἔπεχεν λιπαροὺς πόδας εἰλαπινάζων·
οἱ δʼ ἄλλοι πάντες δίδοσαν, πλῆσαν δʼ ἄρα πήρην
σίτου καὶ κρειῶν· τάχα δὴ καὶ ἔμελλεν Ὀδυσσεὺς
αὖτις ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰὼν προικὸς γεύσεσθαι Ἀχαιῶν·
στῆ δὲ παρʼ Ἀντίνοον, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
δός, φίλος· οὐ μέν μοι δοκέεις ὁ κάκιστος Ἀχαιῶν
ἔμμεναι, ἀλλʼ ὤριστος, ἐπεὶ βασιλῆϊ ἔοικας.
τῷ σε χρὴ δόμεναι καὶ λώϊον ἠέ περ ἄλλοι
σίτου· ἐγὼ δέ κέ σε κλείω κατʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν.
καὶ γὰρ ἐγώ ποτε οἶκον ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔναιον
ὄλβιος ἀφνειὸν καὶ πολλάκι δόσκον ἀλήτῃ,
τοίῳ ὁποῖος ἔοι καὶ ὅτευ κεχρημένος ἔλθοι·
ἦσαν δὲ δμῶες μάλα μυρίοι ἄλλα τε πολλὰ
οἷσίν τʼ εὖ ζώουσι καὶ ἀφνειοὶ καλέονται.
ἀλλὰ Ζεὺς ἀλάπαξε Κρονίων—ἤθελε γάρ που—
ὅς μʼ ἅμα ληϊστῆρσι πολυπλάγκτοισιν ἀνῆκεν
Αἴγυπτόνδʼ ἰέναι, δολιχὴν ὁδόν, ὄφρʼ ἀπολοίμην.
στῆσα δʼ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ ποταμῷ νέας ἀμφιελίσσας.
ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ κελόμην ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους
αὐτοῦ πὰρ νήεσσι μένειν καὶ νῆας ἔρυσθαι,
ὀπτῆρας δὲ κατὰ σκοπιὰς ὤτρυνα νέεσθαι.
οἱ δʼ ὕβρει εἴξαντες, ἐπισπόμενοι μένεϊ σφῷ,
αἶψα μάλʼ Αἰγυπτίων ἀνδρῶν περικαλλέας ἀγροὺς
πόρθεον, ἐκ δὲ γυναῖκας ἄγον καὶ νήπια τέκνα,
αὐτούς τʼ ἔκτεινον· τάχα δʼ ἐς πόλιν ἵκετʼ ἀϋτή.
οἱ δὲ βοῆς ἀΐοντες ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν
ἦλθον· πλῆτο δὲ πᾶν πεδίον πεζῶν τε καὶ ἵππων
χαλκοῦ τε στεροπῆς· ἐν δὲ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος
φύζαν ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισι κακὴν βάλεν, οὐδέ τις ἔτλη
στῆναι ἐναντίβιον· περὶ γὰρ κακὰ πάντοθεν ἔστη.
ἔνθʼ ἡμέων πολλοὺς μὲν ἀπέκτανον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
τοὺς δʼ ἄναγον ζωούς, σφίσιν ἐργάζεσθαι ἀνάγκῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἔμʼ ἐς Κύπρον ξείνῳ δόσαν ἀντιάσαντι,
Δμήτορι Ἰασίδῃ, ὃς Κύπρου ἶφι ἄνασσεν·
ἔνθεν δὴ νῦν δεῦρο τόδʼ ἵκω πήματα πάσχων.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
τίς δαίμων τόδε πῆμα προσήγαγε, δαιτὸς ἀνίην;
στῆθʼ οὕτως ἐς μέσσον, ἐμῆς ἀπάνευθε τραπέζης,
μὴ τάχα πικρὴν Αἴγυπτον καὶ Κύπρον ἵκηαι·
ὥς τις θαρσαλέος καὶ ἀναιδής ἐσσι προΐκτης.
ἑξείης πάντεσσι παρίστασαι· οἱ δὲ διδοῦσι
μαψιδίως, ἐπεὶ οὔ τις ἐπίσχεσις οὐδʼ ἐλεητὺς
ἀλλοτρίων χαρίσασθαι, ἐπεὶ πάρα πολλὰ ἑκάστῳ.
τὸν δʼ ἀναχωρήσας προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὢ πόποι, οὐκ ἄρα σοί γʼ ἐπὶ εἴδεϊ καὶ φρένες ἦσαν·
οὐ σύ γʼ ἂν ἐξ οἴκου σῷ ἐπιστάτῃ οὐδʼ ἅλα δοίης,
ὃς νῦν ἀλλοτρίοισι παρήμενος οὔ τί μοι ἔτλης
σίτου ἀποπροελὼν δόμεναι· τὰ δὲ πολλὰ πάρεστιν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἐχολώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,
καί μιν ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
νῦν δή σʼ οὐκέτι καλὰ διὲκ μεγάροιό γʼ ὀΐω
ἂψ ἀναχωρήσειν, ὅτε δὴ καὶ ὀνείδεα βάζεις.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, καὶ θρῆνυν ἑλὼν βάλε δεξιὸν ὦμον,
πρυμνότατον κατὰ νῶτον· ὁ δʼ ἐστάθη ἠΰτε πέτρη
ἔμπεδον, οὐδʼ ἄρα μιν σφῆλεν βέλος Ἀντινόοιο,
ἀλλʼ ἀκέων κίνησε κάρη, κακὰ βυσσοδομεύων.
ἂψ δʼ ὅ γʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο, κὰδ δʼ ἄρα πήρην
θῆκεν ἐϋπλείην, μετὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσιν ἔειπε·
κέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγακλειτῆς βασιλείης,
ὄφρʼ εἴπω τά με θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κελεύει.
οὐ μὰν οὔτʼ ἄχος ἐστὶ μετὰ φρεσὶν οὔτε τι πένθος,
ὁππότʼ ἀνὴρ περὶ οἷσι μαχειόμενος κτεάτεσσι
βλήεται, ἢ περὶ βουσὶν ἢ ἀργεννῇς ὀΐεσσιν·
αὐτὰρ ἔμʼ Ἀντίνοος βάλε γαστέρος εἵνεκα λυγρῆς,
οὐλομένης, ἣ πολλὰ κάκʼ ἀνθρώποισι δίδωσιν.
ἀλλʼ εἴ που πτωχῶν γε θεοὶ καὶ Ἐρινύες εἰσίν,
Ἀντίνοον πρὸ γάμοιο τέλος θανάτοιο κιχείη.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·
ἔσθιʼ ἕκηλος, ξεῖνε, καθήμενος, ἢ ἄπιθʼ ἄλλῃ,
μή σε νέοι διὰ δώματʼ ἐρύσσωσʼ, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις,
ἢ ποδὸς ἢ καὶ χειρός, ἀποδρύψωσι δὲ πάντα.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὑπερφιάλως νεμέσησαν·
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·
Ἀντίνοʼ, οὐ μὲν κάλʼ ἔβαλες δύστηνον ἀλήτην,
οὐλόμενʼ, εἰ δή πού τις ἐπουράνιος θεός ἐστιν.
καί τε θεοὶ ξείνοισιν ἐοικότες ἀλλοδαποῖσι,
παντοῖοι τελέθοντες, ἐπιστρωφῶσι πόληας,
ἀνθρώπων ὕβριν τε καὶ εὐνομίην ἐφορῶντες.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν μνηστῆρες, ὁ δʼ οὐκ ἐμπάζετο μύθων.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἐν μὲν κραδίῃ μέγα πένθος ἄεξε
βλημένου, οὐδʼ ἄρα δάκρυ χαμαὶ βάλεν ἐκ βλεφάροιϊν,
ἀλλʼ ἀκέων κίνησε κάρη, κακὰ βυσσοδομεύων.
τοῦ δʼ ὡς οὖν ἤκουσε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια
βλημένου ἐν μεγάρῳ, μετʼ ἄρα δμῳῇσιν ἔειπεν·
αἴθʼ οὕτως αὐτόν σε βάλοι κλυτότοξος Ἀπόλλων.
τὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρυνόμη ταμίη πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
εἰ γὰρ ἐπʼ ἀρῇσιν τέλος ἡμετέρῃσι γένοιτο·
οὐκ ἄν τις τούτων γε ἐΰθρονον Ἠῶ ἵκοιτο.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
μαῖʼ, ἐχθροὶ μὲν πάντες, ἐπεὶ κακὰ μηχανόωνται·
Ἀντίνοος δὲ μάλιστα μελαίνῃ κηρὶ ἔοικε.
ξεῖνός τις δύστηνος ἀλητεύει κατὰ δῶμα
ἀνέρας αἰτίζων· ἀχρημοσύνη γὰρ ἀνώγει·
ἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἐνέπλησάν τʼ ἔδοσάν τε,
οὗτος δὲ θρήνυι πρυμνὸν βάλε δεξιὸν ὦμον.
ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς ἀγόρευε μετὰ δμῳῇσι γυναιξίν,
ἡμένη ἐν θαλάμῳ· ὁ δʼ ἐδείπνεε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
ἡ δʼ ἐπὶ οἷ καλέσασα προσηύδα δῖον ὑφορβόν·
ἔρχεο, δῖʼ Εὔμαιε, κιὼν τὸν ξεῖνον ἄνωχθι
ἐλθέμεν, ὄφρα τί μιν προσπτύξομαι ἠδʼ ἐρέωμαι
εἴ που Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος ἠὲ πέπυσται
ἢ ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσι· πολυπλάγκτῳ γὰρ ἔοικε.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα
εἰ γάρ τοι, βασίλεια, σιωπήσειαν Ἀχαιοί·
οἷʼ ὅ γε μυθεῖται, θέλγοιτό κέ τοι φίλον ἦτορ.
τρεῖς γὰρ δή μιν νύκτας ἔχον, τρία δʼ ἤματʼ ἔρυξα
ἐν κλισίῃ· πρῶτον γὰρ ἔμʼ ἵκετο νηὸς ἀποδράς·
ἀλλʼ οὔ πω κακότητα διήνυσεν ἣν ἀγορεύων.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἀοιδὸν ἀνὴρ ποτιδέρκεται, ὅς τε θεῶν ἒξ
ἀείδει δεδαὼς ἔπεʼ ἱμερόεντα βροτοῖσι,
τοῦ δʼ ἄμοτον μεμάασιν ἀκουέμεν, ὁππότʼ ἀείδῃ·
ὣς ἐμὲ κεῖνος ἔθελγε παρήμενος ἐν μεγάροισι.
φησὶ δʼ Ὀδυσσῆος ξεῖνος πατρώϊος εἶναι,
Κρήτῃ ναιετάων, ὅθι Μίνωος γένος ἐστίν.
ἔνθεν δὴ νῦν δεῦρο τόδʼ ἵκετο πήματα πάσχων,
προπροκυλινδόμενος· στεῦται δʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀκοῦσαι,
ἀγχοῦ, Θεσπρωτῶν ἀνδρῶν ἐν πίονι δήμῳ,
ζωοῦ· πολλὰ δʼ ἄγει κειμήλια ὅνδε δόμονδε.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
ἔρχεο, δεῦρο κάλεσσον, ἵνʼ ἀντίον αὐτὸς ἐνίσπῃ.
οὗτοι δʼ ἠὲ θύρῃσι καθήμενοι ἑψιαάσθων.
ἢ αὐτοῦ κατὰ δώματʼ, ἐπεί σφισι θυμὸς ἐΰφρων.
αὐτῶν μὲν γὰρ κτήματʼ ἀκήρατα κεῖτʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
σῖτος καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ· τὰ μὲν οἰκῆες ἔδουσιν,
οἱ δʼ εἰς ἡμέτερον πωλεύμενοι ἤματα πάντα,
βοῦς ἱερεύοντες καὶ ὄϊς καὶ πίονας αἶγας,
εἰλαπινάζουσιν πίνουσί τε αἴθοπα οἶνον,
μαψιδίως· τὰ δὲ πολλὰ κατάνεται. οὐ γὰρ ἔπʼ ἀνήρ,
οἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκεν, ἀρὴν ἀπὸ οἴκου ἀμῦναι.
εἰ δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔλθοι καὶ ἵκοιτʼ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
αἶψά κε σὺν ᾧ παιδὶ βίας ἀποτίσεται ἀνδρῶν.
ὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ μέγʼ ἔπταρεν, ἀμφὶ δὲ δῶμα
σμερδαλέον κονάβησε· γέλασσε δὲ Πηνελόπεια,
αἶψα δʼ ἄρʼ Εὔμαιον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ἔρχεό μοι, τὸν ξεῖνον ἐναντίον ὧδε κάλεσσον.
οὐχ ὁράᾳς ὅ μοι υἱὸς ἐπέπταρε πᾶσιν ἔπεσσι;
τῷ κε καὶ οὐκ ἀτελὴς θάνατος μνηστῆρσι γένοιτο
πᾶσι μάλʼ, οὐδέ κέ τις θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξει.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·
αἴ κʼ αὐτὸν γνώω νημερτέα πάντʼ ἐνέποντα,
ἕσσω μιν χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, εἵματα καλά.
ὣς φάτο, βῆ δὲ συφορβός, ἐπεὶ τὸν μῦθον ἄκουσεν·
ἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ξεῖνε πάτερ, καλέει σε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
μήτηρ Τηλεμάχοιο· μεταλλῆσαί τί ἑ θυμὸς
ἀμφὶ πόσει κέλεται, καὶ κήδεά περ πεπαθυίῃ.
εἰ δέ κέ σε γνώῃ νημερτέα πάντʼ ἐνέποντα,
ἕσσει σε χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, τῶν σὺ μάλιστα
χρηΐζεις· σῖτον δὲ καὶ αἰτίζων κατὰ δῆμον
γαστέρα βοσκήσεις· δώσει δέ τοι ὅς κʼ ἐθέλῃσι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
Εὔμαιʼ, αἶψά κʼ ἐγὼ νημερτέα πάντʼ ἐνέποιμι
κούρῃ Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ·
οἶδα γὰρ εὖ περὶ κείνου, ὁμὴν δʼ ἀνεδέγμεθʼ ὀϊζύν.
ἀλλὰ μνηστήρων χαλεπῶν ὑποδείδιʼ ὅμιλον,
τῶν ὕβρις τε βίη τε σιδήρεον οὐρανὸν ἵκει.
καὶ γὰρ νῦν, ὅτε μʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ κατὰ δῶμα κιόντα
οὔ τι κακὸν ῥέξαντα βαλὼν ὀδύνῃσιν ἔδωκεν,
οὔτε τι Τηλέμαχος τό γʼ ἐπήρκεσεν οὔτε τις ἄλλος.
τῷ νῦν Πηνελόπειαν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἄνωχθι
μεῖναι, ἐπειγομένην περ, ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα·
καὶ τότε μʼ εἰρέσθω πόσιος πέρι νόστιμον ἦμαρ,
ἀσσοτέρω καθίσασα παραὶ πυρί· εἵματα γάρ τοι
λύγρʼ ἔχω· οἶσθα καὶ αὐτός, ἐπεί σε πρῶθʼ ἱκέτευσα.
ὣς φάτο, βῆ δὲ συφορβός, ἐπεὶ τὸν μῦθον ἄκουσε.
τὸν δʼ ὑπὲρ οὐδοῦ βάντα προσηύδα Πηνελόπεια·
οὐ σύ γʼ ἄγεις, Εὔμαιε· τί τοῦτʼ ἐνόησεν ἀλήτης;
ἦ τινά που δείσας ἐξαίσιον ἦε καὶ ἄλλως
αἰδεῖται κατὰ δῶμα; κακὸς δʼ αἰδοῖος ἀλήτης.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
μυθεῖται κατὰ μοῖραν, ἅ πέρ κʼ οἴοιτο καὶ ἄλλος,
ὕβριν ἀλυσκάζων ἀνδρῶν ὑπερηνορεόντων.
ἀλλά σε μεῖναι ἄνωγεν ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα.
καὶ δὲ σοὶ ὧδʼ αὐτῇ πολὺ κάλλιον, ὦ βασίλεια,
οἴην πρὸς ξεῖνον φάσθαι ἔπος ἠδʼ ἐπακοῦσαι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
οὐκ ἄφρων ὁ ξεῖνος· ὀΐεται, ὥς περ ἂν εἴη·
οὐ γάρ πού τινες ὧδε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων
ἀνέρες ὑβρίζοντες ἀτάσθαλα μηχανόωνται.
ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς ἀγόρευεν, ὁ δʼ ᾤχετο δῖος ὑφορβὸς
μνηστήρων ἐς ὅμιλον, ἐπεὶ διεπέφραδε πάντα.
αἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα,
ἄγχι σχὼν κεφαλήν, ἵνα μὴ πευθοίαθʼ οἱ ἄλλοι·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐγὼ μὲν ἄπειμι, σύας καὶ κεῖνα φυλάξων,
σὸν καὶ ἐμὸν βίοτον· σοὶ δʼ ἐνθάδε πάντα μελόντων.
αὐτὸν μέν σε πρῶτα σάω, καὶ φράζεο θυμῷ
μή τι πάθῃς· πολλοὶ δὲ κακὰ φρονέουσιν Ἀχαιῶν,
τοὺς Ζεὺς ἐξολέσειε πρὶν ἡμῖν πῆμα γενέσθαι.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ἔσσεται οὕτως, ἄττα· σὺ δʼ ἔρχεο δειελιήσας·
ἠῶθεν δʼ ἰέναι καὶ ἄγειν ἱερήϊα καλά·
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τάδε πάντα καὶ ἀθανάτοισι μελήσει.
ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αὖτις ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐϋξέστου ἐπὶ δίφρου,
πλησάμενος δʼ ἄρα θυμὸν ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος
βῆ ῥʼ ἴμεναι μεθʼ ὕας, λίπε δʼ ἕρκεά τε μέγαρόν τε,
πλεῖον δαιτυμόνων· οἱ δʼ ὀρχηστυῖ καὶ ἀοιδῇ
τέρποντʼ· ἤδη γὰρ καὶ ἐπήλυθε δείελον ἦμαρ.

### Book 18

ἦλθε δʼ ἐπὶ πτωχὸς πανδήμιος, ὃς κατὰ ἄστυ
πτωχεύεσκʼ Ἰθάκης, μετὰ δʼ ἔπρεπε γαστέρι μάργῃ
ἀζηχὲς φαγέμεν καὶ πιέμεν· οὐδέ οἱ ἦν ἲς
οὐδὲ βίη, εἶδος δὲ μάλα μέγας ἦν ὁράασθαι.
Ἀρναῖος δʼ ὄνομʼ ἔσκε· τὸ γὰρ θέτο πότνια μήτηρ
ἐκ γενετῆς· Ἶρον δὲ νέοι κίκλησκον ἅπαντες,
οὕνεκʼ ἀπαγγέλλεσκε κιών, ὅτε πού τις ἀνώγοι·
ὅς ῥʼ ἐλθὼν Ὀδυσῆα διώκετο οἷο δόμοιο,
καί μιν νεικείων ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
εἶκε, γέρον, προθύρου, μὴ δὴ τάχα καὶ ποδὸς ἕλκῃ.
οὐκ ἀΐεις ὅτι δή μοι ἐπιλλίζουσιν ἅπαντες,
ἑλκέμεναι δὲ κέλονται; ἐγὼ δʼ αἰσχύνομαι ἔμπης.
ἀλλʼ ἄνα, μὴ τάχα νῶϊν ἔρις καὶ χερσὶ γένηται.
τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
δαιμόνιʼ, οὔτε τί σε ῥέζω κακὸν οὔτʼ ἀγορεύω,
οὔτε τινὰ φθονέω δόμεναι καὶ πόλλʼ ἀνελόντα.
οὐδὸς δʼ ἀμφοτέρους ὅδε χείσεται, οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ
ἀλλοτρίων φθονέειν· δοκέεις δέ μοι εἶναι ἀλήτης
ὥς περ ἐγών, ὄλβον δὲ θεοὶ μέλλουσιν ὀπάζειν.
χερσὶ δὲ μή τι λίην προκαλίζεο, μή με χολώσῃς,
μή σε γέρων περ ἐὼν στῆθος καὶ χείλεα φύρσω
αἵματος· ἡσυχίη δʼ ἂν ἐμοὶ καὶ μᾶλλον ἔτʼ εἴη
αὔριον· οὐ μὲν γάρ τί σʼ ὑποστρέψεσθαι ὀΐω
δεύτερον ἐς μέγαρον Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος.
τὸν δὲ χολωσάμενος προσεφώνεεν Ἶρος ἀλήτης·
ὢ πόποι, ὡς ὁ μολοβρὸς ἐπιτροχάδην ἀγορεύει,
γρηῒ καμινοῖ ἶσος· ὃν ἂν κακὰ μητισαίμην
κόπτων ἀμφοτέρῃσι, χαμαὶ δέ κε πάντας ὀδόντας
γναθμῶν ἐξελάσαιμι συὸς ὣς ληϊβοτείρης.
ζῶσαι νῦν, ἵνα πάντες ἐπιγνώωσι καὶ οἵδε
μαρναμένους· πῶς δʼ ἂν σὺ νεωτέρῳ ἀνδρὶ μάχοιο;
ὣς οἱ μὲν προπάροιθε θυράων ὑψηλάων
οὐδοῦ ἔπι ξεστοῦ πανθυμαδὸν ὀκριόωντο.
τοῖϊν δὲ ξυνέηχʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀντινόοιο,
ἡδὺ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐκγελάσας μετεφώνει μνηστήρεσσιν·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐ μέν πώ τι πάρος τοιοῦτον ἐτύχθη,
οἵην τερπωλὴν θεὸς ἤγαγεν ἐς τόδε δῶμα.
ὁ ξεῖνός τε καὶ Ἶρος ἐρίζετον ἀλλήλοιϊν
χερσὶ μαχέσσασθαι· ἀλλὰ ξυνελάσσομεν ὦκα.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀνήϊξαν γελόωντες,
ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα πτωχοὺς κακοείμονας ἠγερέθοντο.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·
κέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες, ὄφρα τι εἴπω.
γαστέρες αἵδʼ αἰγῶν κέατʼ ἐν πυρί, τὰς ἐπὶ δόρπῳ
κατθέμεθα κνίσης τε καὶ αἵματος ἐμπλήσαντες·
ὁππότερος δέ κε νικήσῃ κρείσσων τε γένηται,
τάων ἥν κʼ ἐθέλῃσιν ἀναστὰς αὐτὸς ἑλέσθω·
αἰεὶ αὖθʼ ἡμῖν μεταδαίσεται, οὐδέ τινʼ ἄλλον
πτωχὸν ἔσω μίσγεσθαι ἐάσομεν αἰτήσοντα.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀντίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.
τοῖς δὲ δολοφρονέων μετέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ φίλοι, οὔ πως ἔστι νεωτέρῳ ἀνδρὶ μάχεσθαι
ἄνδρα γέροντα, δύῃ ἀρημένον· ἀλλά με γαστὴρ
ὀτρύνει κακοεργός, ἵνα πληγῇσι δαμείω.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν μοι πάντες ὀμόσσατε καρτερὸν ὅρκον,
μή τις ἐπʼ Ἴρῳ ἦρα φέρων ἐμὲ χειρὶ βαρείῃ
πλήξῃ ἀτασθάλλων, τούτῳ δέ με ἶφι δαμάσσῃ.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀπώμνυον ὡς ἐκέλευεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσάν τε τελεύτησάν τε τὸν ὅρκον,
τοῖς δʼ αὖτις μετέειφʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο·
ξεῖνʼ, εἴ σʼ ὀτρύνει κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ
τοῦτον ἀλέξασθαι, τῶν δʼ ἄλλων μή τινʼ Ἀχαιῶν
δείδιθʼ, ἐπεὶ πλεόνεσσι μαχήσεται ὅς κέ σε θείνῃ·
ξεινοδόκος μὲν ἐγών, ἐπὶ δʼ αἰνεῖτον βασιλῆες,
Ἀντίνοός τε καὶ Εὐρύμαχος, πεπνυμένω ἄμφω.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ζώσατο μὲν ῥάκεσιν περὶ μήδεα, φαῖνε δὲ μηροὺς
καλούς τε μεγάλους τε, φάνεν δέ οἱ εὐρέες ὦμοι
στήθεά τε στιβαροί τε βραχίονες· αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη
ἄγχι παρισταμένη μέλεʼ ἤλδανε ποιμένι λαῶν.
μνηστῆρες δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὑπερφιάλως ἀγάσαντο·
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·
ἦ τάχα Ἶρος Ἄϊρος ἐπίσπαστον κακὸν ἕξει,
οἵην ἐκ ῥακέων ὁ γέρων ἐπιγουνίδα φαίνει.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν, Ἴρῳ δὲ κακῶς ὠρίνετο θυμός.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὣς δρηστῆρες ἄγον ζώσαντες ἀνάγκῃ
δειδιότα· σάρκες δὲ περιτρομέοντο μέλεσσιν.
Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
νῦν μὲν μήτʼ εἴης, βουγάϊε, μήτε γένοιο,
εἰ δὴ τοῦτόν γε τρομέεις καὶ δείδιας αἰνῶς,
ἄνδρα γέροντα, δύῃ ἀρημένον, ἥ μιν ἱκάνει.
ἀλλʼ ἔκ τοι ἐρέω, τὸ δὲ καὶ τετελεσμένον ἔσται·
αἴ κέν σʼ οὗτος νικήσῃ κρείσσων τε γένηται,
πέμψω σʼ ἤπειρόνδε, βαλὼν ἐν νηὶ μελαίνῃ,
εἰς Ἔχετον βασιλῆα, βροτῶν δηλήμονα πάντων,
ὅς κʼ ἀπὸ ῥῖνα τάμῃσι καὶ οὔατα νηλέϊ χαλκῷ,
μήδεά τʼ ἐξερύσας δώῃ κυσὶν ὠμὰ δάσασθαι.
ὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑπὸ τρόμος ἔλλαβε γυῖα.
ἐς μέσσον δʼ ἄναγον· τὼ δʼ ἄμφω χεῖρας ἀνέσχον.
δὴ τότε μερμήριξε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἢ ἐλάσειʼ ὥς μιν ψυχὴ λίποι αὖθι πεσόντα,
ἦέ μιν ἦκʼ ἐλάσειε τανύσσειέν τʼ ἐπὶ γαίῃ.
ὧδε δέ οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,
ἦκʼ ἐλάσαι, ἵνα μή μιν ἐπιφρασσαίατʼ Ἀχαιοί.
δὴ τότʼ ἀνασχομένω ὁ μὲν ἤλασε δεξιὸν ὦμον
Ἶρος, ὁ δʼ αὐχένʼ ἔλασσεν ὑπʼ οὔατος, ὀστέα δʼ εἴσω
ἔθλασεν· αὐτίκα δʼ ἦλθε κατὰ στόμα φοίνιον αἷμα,
κὰδ δʼ ἔπεσʼ ἐν κονίῃσι μακών, σὺν δʼ ἤλασʼ ὀδόντας
λακτίζων ποσὶ γαῖαν· ἀτὰρ μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοὶ
χεῖρας ἀνασχόμενοι γέλῳ ἔκθανον. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἕλκε διὲκ προθύροιο λαβὼν ποδός, ὄφρʼ ἵκετʼ αὐλήν,
αἰθούσης τε θύρας· καί μιν ποτὶ ἑρκίον αὐλῆς
εἷσεν ἀνακλίνας· σκῆπτρον δέ οἱ ἔμβαλε χειρί,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ἐνταυθοῖ νῦν ἧσο σύας τε κύνας τʼ ἀπερύκων,
μηδὲ σύ γε ξείνων καὶ πτωχῶν κοίρανος εἶναι
λυγρὸς ἐών, μή πού τι κακὸν καὶ μεῖζον ἐπαύρῃ.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἀεικέα βάλλετο πήρην,
πυκνὰ ῥωγαλέην· ἐν δὲ στρόφος ἦεν ἀορτήρ.
ἂψ δʼ ὅ γʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο· τοὶ δʼ ἴσαν εἴσω
ἡδὺ γελώοντες καὶ δεικανόωντʼ ἐπέεσσι·
Ζεύς τοι δοίη, ξεῖνε, καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι,
ὅττι μάλιστʼ ἐθέλεις καί τοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ,
ὃς τοῦτον τὸν ἄναλτον ἀλητεύειν ἀπέπαυσας
ἐν δήμῳ· τάχα γάρ μιν ἀνάξομεν ἤπειρόνδε
εἰς Ἔχετον βασιλῆα, βροτῶν δηλήμονα πάντων.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν, χαῖρεν δὲ κλεηδόνι δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἄρα οἱ μεγάλην παρὰ γαστέρα θῆκεν,
ἐμπλείην κνίσης τε καὶ αἵματος· Ἀμφίνομος δὲ
ἄρτους ἐκ κανέοιο δύω παρέθηκεν ἀείρας
καὶ δέπαϊ χρυσέῳ δειδίσκετο, φώνησέν τε·
χαῖρε, πάτερ ὦ ξεῖνε, γένοιτό τοι ἔς περ ὀπίσσω
ὄλβος· ἀτὰρ μὲν νῦν γε κακοῖς ἔχεαι πολέεσσι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Ἀμφίνομʼ, ἦ μάλα μοι δοκέεις πεπνυμένος εἶναι·
τοίου γὰρ καὶ πατρός, ἐπεὶ κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἄκουον,
Νῖσον Δουλιχιῆα ἐΰν τʼ ἔμεν ἀφνειόν τε·
τοῦ σʼ ἔκ φασι γενέσθαι, ἐπητῇ δʼ ἀνδρὶ ἔοικας.
τοὔνεκά τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο καί μευ ἄκουσον·
οὐδὲν ἀκιδνότερον γαῖα τρέφει ἀνθρώποιο,
πάντων ὅσσα τε γαῖαν ἔπι πνείει τε καὶ ἕρπει.
οὐ μὲν γάρ ποτέ φησι κακὸν πείσεσθαι ὀπίσσω,
ὄφρʼ ἀρετὴν παρέχωσι θεοὶ καὶ γούνατʼ ὀρώρῃ·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ καὶ λυγρὰ θεοὶ μάκαρες τελέσωσι,
καὶ τὰ φέρει ἀεκαζόμενος τετληότι θυμῷ·
τοῖος γὰρ νόος ἐστὶν ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων
οἷον ἐπʼ ἦμαρ ἄγησι πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε.
καὶ γὰρ ἐγώ ποτʼ ἔμελλον ἐν ἀνδράσιν ὄλβιος εἶναι,
πολλὰ δʼ ἀτάσθαλʼ ἔρεξα βίῃ καὶ κάρτεϊ εἴκων,
πατρί τʼ ἐμῷ πίσυνος καὶ ἐμοῖσι κασιγνήτοισι.
τῷ μή τίς ποτε πάμπαν ἀνὴρ ἀθεμίστιος εἴη,
ἀλλʼ ὅ γε σιγῇ δῶρα θεῶν ἔχοι, ὅττι διδοῖεν.
οἷʼ ὁρόω μνηστῆρας ἀτάσθαλα μηχανόωντας,
κτήματα κείροντας καὶ ἀτιμάζοντας ἄκοιτιν
ἀνδρός, ὃν οὐκέτι φημὶ φίλων καὶ πατρίδος αἴης
δηρὸν ἀπέσσεσθαι· μάλα δὲ σχεδόν. ἀλλά σε δαίμων
οἴκαδʼ ὑπεξαγάγοι, μηδʼ ἀντιάσειας ἐκείνῳ,
ὁππότε νοστήσειε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·
οὐ γὰρ ἀναιμωτί γε διακρινέεσθαι ὀΐω
μνηστῆρας καὶ κεῖνον, ἐπεί κε μέλαθρον ὑπέλθῃ.
ὣς φάτο, καὶ σπείσας ἔπιεν μελιηδέα οἶνον,
ἂψ δʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἔθηκε δέπας κοσμήτορι λαῶν.
αὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ διὰ δῶμα φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ,
νευστάζων κεφαλῇ· δὴ γὰρ κακὸν ὄσσετο θυμός.
ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς φύγε κῆρα· πέδησε δὲ καὶ τὸν Ἀθήνη
Τηλεμάχου ὑπὸ χερσὶ καὶ ἔγχεϊ ἶφι δαμῆναι.
ἂψ δʼ αὖτις κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη.
τῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
κούρῃ Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,
μνηστήρεσσι φανῆναι, ὅπως πετάσειε μάλιστα
θυμὸν μνηστήρων ἰδὲ τιμήεσσα γένοιτο
μᾶλλον πρὸς πόσιός τε καὶ υἱέος ἢ πάρος ἦεν.
ἀχρεῖον δʼ ἐγέλασσεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
Εὐρυνόμη, θυμός μοι ἐέλδεται, οὔ τι πάρος γε,
μνηστήρεσσι φανῆναι, ἀπεχθομένοισί περ ἔμπης·
παιδὶ δέ κεν εἴποιμι ἔπος, τό κε κέρδιον εἴη,
μὴ πάντα μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ὁμιλεῖν,
οἵ τʼ εὖ μὲν βάζουσι, κακῶς δʼ ὄπιθεν φρονέουσι.
τὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρυνόμη ταμίη πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
ναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε πάντα, τέκος, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.
ἀλλʼ ἴθι καὶ σῷ παιδὶ ἔπος φάο μηδʼ ἐπίκευθε,
χρῶτʼ ἀπονιψαμένη καὶ ἐπιχρίσασα παρειάς·
μηδʼ οὕτω δακρύοισι πεφυρμένη ἀμφὶ πρόσωπα
ἔρχευ, ἐπεὶ κάκιον πενθήμεναι ἄκριτον αἰεί.
ἤδη μὲν γάρ τοι παῖς τηλίκος, ὃν σὺ μάλιστα
ἠρῶ ἀθανάτοισι γενειήσαντα ἰδέσθαι.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
Εὐρυνόμη, μὴ ταῦτα παραύδα, κηδομένη περ,
χρῶτʼ ἀπονίπτεσθαι καὶ ἐπιχρίεσθαι ἀλοιφῇ·
ἀγλαΐην γὰρ ἐμοί γε θεοί, τοὶ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν,
ὤλεσαν, ἐξ οὗ κεῖνος ἔβη κοίλῃς ἐνὶ νηυσίν.
ἀλλά μοι Αὐτονόην τε καὶ Ἱπποδάμειαν ἄνωχθι
ἐλθέμεν, ὄφρα κέ μοι παρστήετον ἐν μεγάροισιν·
οἴη δʼ οὐκ εἴσειμι μετʼ ἀνέρας· αἰδέομαι γάρ.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει
ἀγγελέουσα γυναιξὶ καὶ ὀτρυνέουσα νέεσθαι.
ἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
κούρῃ Ἰκαρίοιο κατὰ γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἔχευεν,
εὗδε δʼ ἀνακλινθεῖσα, λύθεν δέ οἱ ἅψεα πάντα
αὐτοῦ ἐνὶ κλιντῆρι· τέως δʼ ἄρα δῖα θεάων
ἄμβροτα δῶρα δίδου, ἵνα μιν θησαίατʼ Ἀχαιοί.
κάλλεϊ μέν οἱ πρῶτα προσώπατα καλὰ κάθηρεν
ἀμβροσίῳ, οἵῳ περ ἐϋστέφανος Κυθέρεια
χρίεται, εὖτʼ ἂν ἴῃ Χαρίτων χορὸν ἱμερόεντα·
καί μιν μακροτέρην καὶ πάσσονα θῆκεν ἰδέσθαι,
λευκοτέρην δʼ ἄρα μιν θῆκε πριστοῦ ἐλέφαντος.
ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς ἔρξασʼ ἀπεβήσετο δῖα θεάων,
ἦλθον δʼ ἀμφίπολοι λευκώλενοι ἐκ μεγάροιο
φθόγγῳ ἐπερχόμεναι· τὴν δὲ γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἀνῆκε,
καί ῥʼ ἀπομόρξατο χερσὶ παρειὰς φώνησέν τε·
ἦ με μάλʼ αἰνοπαθῆ μαλακὸν περὶ κῶμʼ ἐκάλυψεν.
αἴθε μοι ὣς μαλακὸν θάνατον πόροι Ἄρτεμις ἁγνὴ
αὐτίκα νῦν, ἵνα μηκέτʼ ὀδυρομένη κατὰ θυμὸν
αἰῶνα φθινύθω, πόσιος ποθέουσα φίλοιο
παντοίην ἀρετήν, ἐπεὶ ἔξοχος ἦεν Ἀχαιῶν.
ὣς φαμένη κατέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα σιγαλόεντα,
οὐκ οἴη· ἅμα τῇ γε καὶ ἀμφίπολοι δύʼ ἕποντο.
ἡ δʼ ὅτε δὴ μνηστῆρας ἀφίκετο δῖα γυναικῶν,
στῆ ῥα παρὰ σταθμὸν τέγεος πύκα ποιητοῖο,
ἄντα παρειάων σχομένη λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα·
ἀμφίπολος δʼ ἄρα οἱ κεδνὴ ἑκάτερθε παρέστη.
τῶν δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατʼ, ἔρῳ δʼ ἄρα θυμὸν ἔθελχθεν,
πάντες δʼ ἠρήσαντο παραὶ λεχέεσσι κλιθῆναι.
ἡ δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχον προσεφώνεεν, ὃν φίλον υἱόν·
Τηλέμαχʼ, οὐκέτι τοι φρένες ἔμπεδοι οὐδὲ νόημα·
παῖς ἔτʼ ἐὼν καὶ μᾶλλον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ κέρδεʼ ἐνώμας·
νῦν δʼ, ὅτε δὴ μέγας ἐσσὶ καὶ ἥβης μέτρον ἱκάνεις,
καί κέν τις φαίη γόνον ἔμμεναι ὀλβίου ἀνδρός,
ἐς μέγεθος καὶ κάλλος ὁρώμενος, ἀλλότριος φώς,
οὐκέτι τοι φρένες εἰσὶν ἐναίσιμοι οὐδὲ νόημα.
οἷον δὴ τόδε ἔργον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐτύχθη,
ὃς τὸν ξεῖνον ἔασας ἀεικισθήμεναι οὕτως.
πῶς νῦν, εἴ τι ξεῖνος ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισιν
ἥμενος ὧδε πάθοι ῥυστακτύος ἐξ ἀλεγεινῆς;
σοί κʼ αἶσχος λώβη τε μετʼ ἀνθρώποισι πέλοιτο.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
μῆτερ ἐμή, τὸ μὲν οὔ σε νεμεσσῶμαι κεχολῶσθαι·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ θυμῷ νοέω καὶ οἶδα ἕκαστα,
ἐσθλά τε καὶ τὰ χέρεια· πάρος δʼ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα.
ἀλλά τοι οὐ δύναμαι πεπνυμένα πάντα νοῆσαι·
ἐκ γάρ με πλήσσουσι παρήμενοι ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος
οἵδε κακὰ φρονέοντες, ἐμοὶ δʼ οὐκ εἰσὶν ἀρωγοί.
οὐ μέν τοι ξείνου γε καὶ Ἴρου μῶλος ἐτύχθη
μνηστήρων ἰότητι, βίῃ δʼ ὅ γε φέρτερος ἦεν.
αἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,
οὕτω νῦν μνηστῆρες ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισι
νεύοιεν κεφαλὰς δεδμημένοι, οἱ μὲν ἐν αὐλῇ,
οἱ δʼ ἔντοσθε δόμοιο, λελῦτο δὲ γυῖα ἑκάστου,
ὡς νῦν Ἶρος κεῖνος ἐπʼ αὐλείῃσι θύρῃσιν
ἧσται νευστάζων κεφαλῇ, μεθύοντι ἐοικώς,
οὐδʼ ὀρθὸς στῆναι δύναται ποσὶν οὐδὲ νέεσθαι
οἴκαδʼ, ὅπη οἱ νόστος, ἐπεὶ φίλα γυῖα λέλυνται.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·
Εὐρύμαχος δʼ ἐπέεσσι προσηύδα Πηνελόπειαν·
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρον Πηνελόπεια,
εἰ πάντες σε ἴδοιεν ἀνʼ Ἴασον Ἄργος Ἀχαιοί,
πλέονές κε μνηστῆρες ἐν ὑμετέροισι δόμοισιν
ἠῶθεν δαινύατʼ, ἐπεὶ περίεσσι γυναικῶν
εἶδός τε μέγεθός τε ἰδὲ φρένας ἔνδον ἐΐσας.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
Εὐρύμαχʼ, ἦ τοι ἐμὴν ἀρετὴν εἶδός τε δέμας τε
ὤλεσαν ἀθάνατοι, ὅτε Ἴλιον εἰσανέβαινον
Ἀργεῖοι, μετὰ τοῖσι δʼ ἐμὸς πόσις ᾖεν Ὀδυσσεύς.
εἰ κεῖνός γʼ ἐλθὼν τὸν ἐμὸν βίον ἀμφιπολεύοι,
μεῖζόν κε κλέος εἴη ἐμὸν καὶ κάλλιον οὕτως.
νῦν δʼ ἄχομαι· τόσα γάρ μοι ἐπέσσευεν κακὰ δαίμων.
ἦ μὲν δὴ ὅτε τʼ ᾖε λιπὼν κάτα πατρίδα γαῖαν,
δεξιτερὴν ἐπὶ καρπῷ ἑλὼν ἐμὲ χεῖρα προσηύδα·
ὦ γύναι, οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω ἐϋκνήμιδας Ἀχαιοὺς
ἐκ Τροίης εὖ πάντας ἀπήμονας ἀπονέεσθαι·
καὶ γὰρ Τρῶάς φασι μαχητὰς ἔμμεναι ἄνδρας,
ἠμὲν ἀκοντιστὰς ἠδὲ ῥυτῆρας ὀϊστῶν
ἵππων τʼ ὠκυπόδων ἐπιβήτορας, οἵ κε τάχιστα
ἔκριναν μέγα νεῖκος ὁμοιΐου πολέμοιο.
τῷ οὐκ οἶδʼ ἤ κέν μʼ ἀνέσει θεός, ἦ κεν ἁλώω
αὐτοῦ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ· σοὶ δʼ ἐνθάδε πάντα μελόντων.
μεμνῆσθαι πατρὸς καὶ μητέρος ἐν μεγάροισιν
ὡς νῦν, ἢ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἐμεῦ ἀπονόσφιν ἐόντος·
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ παῖδα γενειήσαντα ἴδηαι,
γήμασθʼ ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα, τεὸν κατὰ δῶμα λιποῦσα.
κεῖνος τὼς ἀγόρευε· τὰ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.
νὺξ δʼ ἔσται ὅτε δὴ στυγερὸς γάμος ἀντιβολήσει
οὐλομένης ἐμέθεν, τῆς τε Ζεὺς ὄλβον ἀπηύρα.
ἀλλὰ τόδʼ αἰνὸν ἄχος κραδίην καὶ θυμὸν ἱκάνει·
μνηστήρων οὐχ ἥδε δίκη τὸ πάροιθε τέτυκτο·
οἵ τʼ ἀγαθήν τε γυναῖκα καὶ ἀφνειοῖο θύγατρα
μνηστεύειν ἐθέλωσι καὶ ἀλλήλοις ἐρίσωσιν,
αὐτοὶ τοί γʼ ἀπάγουσι βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,
κούρης δαῖτα φίλοισι, καὶ ἀγλαὰ δῶρα διδοῦσιν·
ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἀλλότριον βίοτον νήποινον ἔδουσιν.
ὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
οὕνεκα τῶν μὲν δῶρα παρέλκετο, θέλγε δὲ θυμὸν
μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι, νόος δέ οἱ ἄλλα μενοίνα.
τὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός,
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρον Πηνελόπεια,
δῶρα μὲν ὅς κʼ ἐθέλῃσιν Ἀχαιῶν ἐνθάδʼ ἐνεῖκαι,
δέξασθʼ. οὐ γὰρ καλὸν ἀνήνασθαι δόσιν ἐστίν·
ἡμεῖς δʼ οὔτʼ ἐπὶ ἔργα πάρος γʼ ἴμεν οὔτε πῃ ἄλλῃ,
πρίν γέ σε τῷ γήμασθαι Ἀχαιῶν ὅς τις ἄριστος.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀντίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος·
δῶρα δʼ ἄρʼ οἰσέμεναι πρόεσαν κήρυκα ἕκαστος.
Ἀντινόῳ μὲν ἔνεικε μέγαν περικαλλέα πέπλον,
ποικίλον· ἐν δʼ ἀρʼ ἔσαν περόναι δυοκαίδεκα πᾶσαι
χρύσειαι, κληῗσιν ἐϋγνάμπτοις ἀραρυῖαι.
ὅρμον δʼ Εὐρυμάχῳ πολυδαίδαλον αὐτίκʼ ἔνεικε.
χρύσεον, ἠλέκτροισιν ἐερμένον ἠέλιον ὥς.
ἕρματα δʼ Εὐρυδάμαντι δύω θεράποντες ἔνεικαν,
τρίγληνα μορόεντα· χάρις δʼ ἀπελάμπετο πολλή.
ἐκ δʼ ἄρα Πεισάνδροιο Πολυκτορίδαο ἄνακτος
ἴσθμιον ἤνεικεν θεράπων, περικαλλὲς ἄγαλμα.
ἄλλο δʼ ἄρʼ ἄλλος δῶρον Ἀχαιῶν καλὸν ἔνεικεν.
ἡ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀνέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα δῖα γυναικῶν,
τῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἅμʼ ἀμφίπολοι ἔφερον περικαλλέα δῶρα
οἱ δʼ εἰς ὀρχηστύν τε καὶ ἱμερόεσσαν ἀοιδὴν
τρεψάμενοι τέρποντο, μένον δʼ ἐπὶ ἕσπερον ἐλθεῖν.
τοῖσι δὲ τερπομένοισι μέλας ἐπὶ ἕσπερος ἦλθεν.
αὐτίκα λαμπτῆρας τρεῖς ἵστασαν ἐν μεγάροισιν,
ὄφρα φαείνοιεν· περὶ δὲ ξύλα κάγκανα θῆκαν,
αὖα πάλαι, περίκηλα, νέον κεκεασμένα χαλκῷ,
καὶ δαΐδας μετέμισγον· ἀμοιβηδὶς δʼ ἀνέφαινον
δμῳαὶ Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος. αὐτὰρ ὁ τῇσιν
αὐτὸς διογενῆς μετέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
δμῳαὶ Ὀδυσσῆος, δὴν οἰχομένοιο ἄνακτος,
ἔρχεσθε πρὸς δώμαθʼ, ἵνʼ αἰδοίη βασίλεια·
τῇ δὲ παρʼ ἠλάκατα στροφαλίζετε, τέρπετε δʼ αὐτὴν
ἥμεναι ἐν μεγάρῳ, ἢ εἴρια πείκετε χερσίν·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τούτοισι φάος πάντεσσι παρέξω.
ἤν περ γάρ κʼ ἐθέλωσιν ἐΰθρονον Ἠῶ μίμνειν,
οὔ τί με νικήσουσι· πολυτλήμων δὲ μάλʼ εἰμί.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἐγέλασσαν, ἐς ἀλλήλας δὲ ἴδοντο.
τὸν δʼ αἰσχρῶς ἐνένιπε Μελανθὼ καλλιπάρῃος,
τὴν Δολίος μὲν ἔτικτε, κόμισσε δὲ Πηνελόπεια,
παῖδα δὲ ὣς ἀτίταλλε, δίδου δʼ ἄρʼ ἀθύρματα θυμῷ·
ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ὣς ἔχε πένθος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ Πηνελοπείης,
ἀλλʼ ἥ γʼ Εὐρυμάχῳ μισγέσκετο καὶ φιλέεσκεν.
ἥ ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐνένιπεν ὀνειδείοις ἐπέεσσιν·
ξεῖνε τάλαν, σύ γέ τις φρένας ἐκπεπαταγμένος ἐσσί,
οὐδʼ ἐθέλεις εὕδειν χαλκήϊον ἐς δόμον ἐλθών,
ἠέ που ἐς λέσχην, ἀλλʼ ἐνθάδε πόλλʼ ἀγορεύεις,
θαρσαλέως πολλοῖσι μετʼ ἀνδράσιν, οὐδέ τι θυμῷ
ταρβεῖς· ἦ ῥά σε οἶνος ἔχει φρένας, ἤ νύ τοι αἰεὶ
τοιοῦτος νόος ἐστίν· ὃ καὶ μεταμώνια βάζεις.
ἦ ἀλύεις, ὅτι Ἶρον ἐνίκησας τὸν ἀλήτην;
μή τίς τοι τάχα Ἴρου ἀμείνων ἄλλος ἀναστῇ,
ὅς τίς σʼ ἀμφὶ κάρη κεκοπὼς χερσὶ στιβαρῇσι
δώματος ἐκπέμψῃσι, φορύξας αἵματι πολλῷ.
τὴν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ἦ τάχα Τηλεμάχῳ ἐρέω, κύον, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις,
κεῖσʼ ἐλθών, ἵνα σʼ αὖθι διὰ μελεϊστὶ τάμῃσιν.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἐπέεσσι διεπτοίησε γυναῖκας.
βὰν δʼ ἴμεναι διὰ δῶμα, λύθεν δʼ ὑπὸ γυῖα ἑκάστης
ταρβοσύνῃ· φὰν γάρ μιν ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι.
αὐτὰρ ὁ πὰρ λαμπτῆρσι φαείνων αἰθομένοισιν
ἑστήκειν ἐς πάντας ὁρώμενος· ἄλλα δέ οἱ κῆρ
ὥρμαινε φρεσὶν ᾗσιν, ἅ ῥʼ οὐκ ἀτέλεστα γένοντο.
μνηστῆρας δʼ οὐ πάμπαν ἀγήνορας εἴα Ἀθήνη
λώβης ἴσχεσθαι θυμαλγέος, ὄφρʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον
δύη ἄχος κραδίην Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος.
τοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρύμαχος, Πολύβου πάϊς, ἦρχʼ ἀγορεύειν,
κερτομέων Ὀδυσῆα· γέλω δʼ ἑτάροισιν ἔτευχε.
κέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγακλειτῆς βασιλείης,
ὄφρʼ εἴπω τά με θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κελεύει.
οὐκ ἀθεεὶ ὅδʼ ἀνὴρ Ὀδυσήϊον ἐς δόμον ἵκει·
ἔμπης μοι δοκέει δαίδων σέλας ἔμμεναι αὐτοῦ
κὰκ κεφαλῆς, ἐπεὶ οὔ οἱ ἔνι τρίχες οὐδʼ ἠβαιαί.
ἦ ῥʼ, ἅμα τε προσέειπεν Ὀδυσσῆα πτολίπορθον·
ξεῖνʼ, ἦ ἄρ κʼ ἐθέλοις θητευέμεν, εἴ σʼ ἀνελοίμην,
ἀγροῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιῆς—μισθὸς δέ τοι ἄρκιος ἔσται—
αἱμασιάς τε λέγων καὶ δένδρεα μακρὰ φυτεύων;
ἔνθα κʼ ἐγὼ σῖτον μὲν ἐπηετανὸν παρέχοιμι,
εἵματα δʼ ἀμφιέσαιμι ποσίν θʼ ὑποδήματα δοίην.
ἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δὴ ἔργα κάκʼ ἔμμαθες, οὐκ ἐθελήσεις
ἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι, ἀλλὰ πτώσσειν κατὰ δῆμον
βούλεαι, ὄφρʼ ἄν ἔχῃς βόσκειν σὴν γαστέρʼ ἄναλτον.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Εὐρύμαχʼ, εἰ γὰρ νῶϊν ἔρις ἔργοιο γένοιτο
ὥρῃ ἐν εἰαρινῇ, ὅτε τʼ ἤματα μακρὰ πέλονται,
ἐν ποίῃ, δρέπανον μὲν ἐγὼν εὐκαμπὲς ἔχοιμι,
καὶ δὲ σὺ τοῖον ἔχοις, ἵνα πειρησαίμεθα ἔργου
νήστιες ἄχρι μάλα κνέφαος, ποίη δὲ παρείη.
εἰ δʼ αὖ καὶ βόες εἶεν ἐλαυνέμεν, οἵ περ ἄριστοι,
αἴθωνες, μεγάλοι, ἄμφω κεκορηότε ποίης,
ἥλικες, ἰσοφόροι, τῶν τε σθένος οὐκ ἀλαπαδνόν,
τετράγυον δʼ εἴη, εἴκοι δʼ ὑπὸ βῶλος ἀρότρῳ·
τῷ κέ μʼ ἴδοις, εἰ ὦλκα διηνεκέα προταμοίμην.
εἰ δʼ αὖ καὶ πόλεμόν ποθεν ὁρμήσειε Κρονίων
σήμερον, αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ σάκος εἴη καὶ δύο δοῦρε
καὶ κυνέη πάγχαλκος, ἐπὶ κροτάφοις ἀραρυῖα,
τῷ κέ μʼ ἴδοις πρώτοισιν ἐνὶ προμάχοισι μιγέντα,
οὐδʼ ἄν μοι τὴν γαστέρʼ ὀνειδίζων ἀγορεύοις.
ἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὑβρίζεις, καί τοι νόος ἐστὶν ἀπηνής·
καί πού τις δοκέεις μέγας ἔμμεναι ἠδὲ κραταιός,
οὕνεκα πὰρ παύροισι καὶ οὐκ ἀγαθοῖσιν ὁμιλεῖς.
εἰ δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔλθοι καὶ ἵκοιτʼ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
αἶψά κέ τοι τὰ θύρετρα, καὶ εὐρέα περ μάλʼ ἐόντα,
φεύγοντι στείνοιτο διὲκ προθύροιο θύραζε.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, Εὐρύμαχος δʼ ἐχολώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,
καί μιν ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ἆ δείλʼ, ἦ τάχα τοι τελέω κακόν, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις
θαρσαλέως πολλοῖσι μετʼ ἀνδράσιν, οὐδέ τι θυμῷ
ταρβεῖς· ἦ ῥά σε οἶνος ἔχει φρένας, ἤ νύ τοι αἰεὶ
τοιοῦτος νόος ἐστίν· ὃ καὶ μεταμώνια βάζεις.
ἦ ἀλύεις, ὅτι Ἶρον ἐνίκησας τὸν ἀλήτην;
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας σφέλας ἔλλαβεν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
Ἀμφινόμου πρὸς γοῦνα καθέζετο Δουλιχιῆος,
Εὐρύμαχον δείσας· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ οἰνοχόον βάλε χεῖρα
δεξιτερήν· πρόχοος δὲ χαμαὶ βόμβησε πεσοῦσα,
αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ οἰμώξας πέσεν ὕπτιος ἐν κονίῃσι.
μνηστῆρες δʼ ὁμάδησαν ἀνὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα,
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·
αἴθʼ ὤφελλʼ ὁ ξεῖνος ἀλώμενος ἄλλοθʼ ὀλέσθαι
πρὶν ἐλθεῖν· τῷ οὔ τι τόσον κέλαδον μετέθηκε.
νῦν δὲ περὶ πτωχῶν ἐριδαίνομεν, οὐδέ τι δαιτὸς
ἐσθλῆς ἔσσεται ἦδος, ἐπεὶ τὰ χερείονα νικᾷ.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειφʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο
δαιμόνιοι, μαίνεσθε καὶ οὐκέτι κεύθετε θυμῷ
βρωτὺν οὐδὲ ποτῆτα· θεῶν νύ τις ὔμμʼ ὀροθύνει.
ἀλλʼ εὖ δαισάμενοι κατακείετε οἴκαδʼ ἰόντες,
ὁππότε θυμὸς ἄνωγε· διώκω δʼ οὔ τινʼ ἐγώ γε.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὀδὰξ ἐν χείλεσι φύντες
Τηλέμαχον θαύμαζον, ὃ θαρσαλέως ἀγόρευε.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀμφίνομος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε
Νίσου φαίδιμος υἱός, Ἀρητιάδαο ἄνακτος·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐκ ἂν δή τις ἐπὶ ῥηθέντι δικαίῳ
ἀντιβίοις ἐπέεσσι καθαπτόμενος χαλεπαίνοι·
μήτε τι τὸν ξεῖνον στυφελίζετε μήτε τινʼ ἄλλον
δμώων, οἳ κατὰ δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ, οἰνοχόος μὲν ἐπαρξάσθω δεπάεσσιν,
ὄφρα σπείσαντες κατακείομεν οἴκαδʼ ἰόντες·
τὸν ξεῖνον δὲ ἐῶμεν ἐνὶ μεγάροις Ὀδυσῆος
Τηλεμάχῳ μελέμεν· τοῦ γὰρ φίλον ἵκετο δῶμα.
ὣς φάτο, τοῖσι δὲ πᾶσιν ἑαδότα μῦθον ἔειπε.
τοῖσιν δὲ κρητῆρα κεράσσατο Μούλιος ἥρως,
κῆρυξ Δουλιχιεύς· θεράπων δʼ ἦν Ἀμφινόμοιο·
νώμησεν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπισταδόν· οἱ δὲ θεοῖσι
σπείσαντες μακάρεσσι πίον μελιηδέα οἶνον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιόν θʼ ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,
βάν ῥʼ ἴμεναι κείοντες ἑὰ πρὸς δώμαθʼ ἕκαστος.

### Book 19

αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐν μεγάρῳ ὑπελείπετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
μνηστήρεσσι φόνον σὺν Ἀθήνῃ μερμηρίζων·
αἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
Τηλέμαχε, χρὴ τεύχεʼ ἀρήϊα κατθέμεν εἴσω
πάντα μάλʼ· αὐτὰρ μνηστῆρας μαλακοῖς ἐπέεσσι
παρφάσθαι, ὅτε κέν σε μεταλλῶσιν ποθέοντες·
ἐκ καπνοῦ κατέθηκʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τοῖσιν ἐῴκει
οἷά ποτε Τροίηνδε κιὼν κατέλειπεν Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἀλλὰ κατῄκισται, ὅσσον πυρὸς ἵκετʼ ἀϋτμή.
πρὸς δʼ ἔτι καὶ τόδε μεῖζον ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἔμβαλε δαίμων
μή πως οἰνωθέντες, ἔριν στήσαντες ἐν ὑμῖν,
ἀλλήλους τρώσητε καταισχύνητέ τε δαῖτα
καὶ μνηστύν· αὐτὸς γὰρ ἐφέλκεται ἄνδρα σίδηρος.
ὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ φίλῳ ἐπεπείθετο πατρί,
ἐκ δὲ καλεσσάμενος προσέφη τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν·
μαῖʼ, ἄγε δή μοι ἔρυξον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναῖκας,
ὄφρα κεν ἐς θάλαμον καταθείομαι ἔντεα πατρὸς
καλά, τά μοι κατὰ οἶκον ἀκηδέα καπνὸς ἀμέρδει
πατρὸς ἀποιχομένοιο· ἐγὼ δʼ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα.
νῦν δʼ ἐθέλω καταθέσθαι, ἵνʼ οὐ πυρὸς ἵξετʼ ἀϋτμή.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
αἲ γὰρ δή ποτε, τέκνον, ἐπιφροσύνας ἀνέλοιο
οἴκου κήδεσθαι καὶ κτήματα πάντα φυλάσσειν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε, τίς τοι ἔπειτα μετοιχομένη φάος οἴσει;
δμῳὰς δʼ οὐκ εἴας προβλωσκέμεν, αἵ κεν ἔφαινον.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ξεῖνος ὅδʼ· οὐ γὰρ ἀεργὸν ἀνέξομαι ὅς κεν ἐμῆς γε
χοίνικος ἅπτηται, καὶ τηλόθεν εἰληλουθώς.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, τῇ δʼ ἄπτερος ἔπλετο μῦθος.
κλήϊσεν δὲ θύρας μεγάρων εὖ ναιεταόντων.
τὼ δʼ ἄρʼ ἀναΐξαντʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ φαίδιμος υἱὸς
ἐσφόρεον κόρυθάς τε καὶ ἀσπίδας ὀμφαλοέσσας
ἔγχεά τʼ ὀξυόεντα· πάροιθε δὲ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη,
χρύσεον λύχνον ἔχουσα, φάος περικαλλὲς ἐποίει.
δὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεεν ὃν πατέρʼ αἶψα·
ὦ πάτερ, ἦ μέγα θαῦμα τόδʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι.
ἔμπης μοι τοῖχοι μεγάρων καλαί τε μεσόδμαι,
εἰλάτιναί τε δοκοί, καὶ κίονες ὑψόσʼ ἔχοντες
φαίνοντʼ ὀφθαλμοῖς ὡς εἰ πυρὸς αἰθομένοιο.
ἦ μάλα τις θεὸς ἔνδον, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
σίγα καὶ κατὰ σὸν νόον ἴσχανε μηδʼ ἐρέεινε·
αὕτη τοι δίκη ἐστὶ θεῶν, οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν.
ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν κατάλεξαι, ἐγὼ δʼ ὑπολείψομαι αὐτοῦ,
ὄφρα κʼ ἔτι δμῳὰς καὶ μητέρα σὴν ἐρεθίζω·
ἡ δέ μʼ ὀδυρομένη εἰρήσεται ἀμφὶς ἕκαστα.
ὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει
κείων ἐς θάλαμον, δαΐδων ὕπο λαμπομενάων,
ἔνθα πάρος κοιμᾶθʼ, ὅτε μιν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἱκάνοι·
ἔνθʼ ἄρα καὶ τότʼ ἔλεκτο καὶ Ἠῶ δῖαν ἔμιμνεν.
αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐν μεγάρῳ ὑπελείπετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
μνηστήρεσσι φόνον σὺν Ἀθήνῃ μερμηρίζων.
ἡ δʼ ἴεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
Ἀρτέμιδι ἰκέλη ἠὲ χρυσέῃ Ἀφροδίτῃ.
τῇ παρὰ μὲν κλισίην πυρὶ κάτθεσαν, ἔνθʼ ἄρʼ ἐφῖζε,
δινωτὴν ἐλέφαντι καὶ ἀργύρῳ· ἥν ποτε τέκτων
ποίησʼ Ἰκμάλιος, καὶ ὑπὸ θρῆνυν ποσὶν ἧκε
προσφυέʼ ἐξ αὐτῆς, ὅθʼ ἐπὶ μέγα βάλλετο κῶας.
ἔνθα καθέζετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια.
ἦλθον δὲ δμῳαὶ λευκώλενοι ἐκ μεγάροιο.
αἱ δʼ ἀπὸ μὲν σῖτον πολὺν ᾕρεον ἠδὲ τραπέζας
καὶ δέπα, ἔνθεν ἄρʼ ἄνδρες ὑπερμενέοντες ἔπινον·
πῦρ δʼ ἀπὸ λαμπτήρων χαμάδις βάλον, ἄλλα δʼ ἐπʼ αὐτῶν
νήησαν ξύλα πολλά, φόως ἔμεν ἠδὲ θέρεσθαι.
ἡ δʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐνένιπε Μελανθὼ δεύτερον αὖτις·
ξεῖνʼ, ἔτι καὶ νῦν ἐνθάδʼ ἀνιήσεις διὰ νύκτα
δινεύων κατὰ οἶκον, ὀπιπεύσεις δὲ γυναῖκας;
ἀλλʼ ἔξελθε θύραζε, τάλαν, καὶ δαιτὸς ὄνησο·
ἢ τάχα καὶ δαλῷ βεβλημένος εἶσθα θύραζε.
τὴν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
δαιμονίη, τί μοι ὧδʼ ἐπέχεις κεκοτηότι θυμῷ;
ἦ ὅτι δὴ ῥυπόω, κακὰ δὲ χροῒ εἵματα εἷμαι,
πτωχεύω δʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον; ἀναγκαίη γὰρ ἐπείγει.
τοιοῦτοι πτωχοὶ καὶ ἀλήμονες ἄνδρες ἔασι
καὶ γὰρ ἐγώ ποτε οἶκον ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔναιον
ὄλβιος ἀφνειὸν καὶ πολλάκι δόσκον ἀλήτῃ,
τοίῳ ὁποῖος ἔοι καὶ ὅτευ κεχρημένος ἔλθοι·
ἦσαν δὲ δμῶες μάλα μυρίοι, ἄλλα τε πολλὰ
οἷσίν τʼ εὖ ζώουσι καὶ ἀφνειοὶ καλέονται.
ἀλλὰ Ζεὺς ἀλάπαξε Κρονίων· ἤθελε γάρ που·
τῷ νῦν μήποτε καὶ σύ, γύναι, ἀπὸ πᾶσαν ὀλέσσῃς
ἀγλαΐην, τῇ νῦν γε μετὰ δμῳῇσι κέκασσαι·
μή πώς τοι δέσποινα κοτεσσαμένη χαλεπήνῃ,
ἢ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔλθῃ· ἔτι γὰρ καὶ ἐλπίδος αἶσα.
εἰ δʼ ὁ μὲν ὣς ἀπόλωλε καὶ οὐκέτι νόστιμός ἐστιν,
ἀλλʼ ἤδη παῖς τοῖος Ἀπόλλωνός γε ἕκητι,
Τηλέμαχος· τὸν δʼ οὔ τις ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναικῶν
λήθει ἀτασθάλλουσʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τηλίκος ἐστίν.
ὣς φάτο, τοῦ δʼ ἤκουσε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
ἀμφίπολον δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
πάντως, θαρσαλέη, κύον ἀδεές, οὔ τί με λήθεις
ἔρδουσα μέγα ἔργον, ὃ σῇ κεφαλῇ ἀναμάξεις·
πάντα γὰρ εὖ ᾔδησθʼ, ἐπεὶ ἐξ ἐμεῦ ἔκλυες αὐτῆς
ὡς τὸν ξεῖνον ἔμελλον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσιν
ἀμφὶ πόσει εἴρεσθαι, ἐπεὶ πυκινῶς ἀκάχημαι.
ἦ ῥα καὶ Εὐρυνόμην ταμίην πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
Εὐρυνόμη, φέρε δὴ δίφρον καὶ κῶας ἐπʼ αὐτοῦ,
ὄφρα καθεζόμενος εἴπῃ ἔπος ἠδʼ ἐπακούσῃ
ὁ ξεῖνος ἐμέθεν· ἐθέλω δέ μιν ἐξερέεσθαι.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡ δὲ μάλʼ ὀτραλέως κατέθηκε φέρουσα
δίφρον ἐΰξεστον καὶ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ κῶας ἔβαλλεν·
ἔνθα καθέζετʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
ξεῖνε, τὸ μέν σε πρῶτον ἐγὼν εἰρήσομαι αὐτή·
τίς πόθεν εἶς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ γύναι, οὐκ ἄν τίς σε βροτῶν ἐπʼ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν
νεικέοι· ἦ γάρ σευ κλέος οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἱκάνει,
ὥς τέ τευ ἢ βασιλῆος ἀμύμονος, ὅς τε θεουδὴς
ἀνδράσιν ἐν πολλοῖσι καὶ ἰφθίμοισιν ἀνάσσων
εὐδικίας ἀνέχῃσι, φέρῃσι δὲ γαῖα μέλαινα
πυροὺς καὶ κριθάς, βρίθῃσι δὲ δένδρεα καρπῷ,
τίκτῃ δʼ ἔμπεδα μῆλα, θάλασσα δὲ παρέχῃ ἰχθῦς
ἐξ εὐηγεσίης, ἀρετῶσι δὲ λαοὶ ὑπʼ αὐτοῦ.
τῷ ἐμὲ νῦν τὰ μὲν ἄλλα μετάλλα σῷ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
μηδʼ ἐμὸν ἐξερέεινε γένος καὶ πατρίδα γαῖαν,
μή μοι μᾶλλον θυμὸν ἐνιπλήσῃς ὀδυνάων
μνησαμένῳ μάλα δʼ εἰμὶ πολύστονος· οὐδέ τί με χρὴ
οἴκῳ ἐν ἀλλοτρίῳ γοόωντά τε μυρόμενόν τε
ἧσθαι, ἐπεὶ κάκιον πενθήμεναι ἄκριτον αἰεί·
μή τίς μοι δμῳῶν νεμεσήσεται, ἠὲ σύ γʼ αὐτή,
φῇ δὲ δακρυπλώειν βεβαρηότα με φρένας οἴνῳ.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
ξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν ἐμὴν ἀρετὴν εἶδός τε δέμας τε
ὤλεσαν ἀθάνατοι, ὅτε Ἴλιον εἰσανέβαινον
Ἀργεῖοι, μετὰ τοῖσι δʼ ἐμὸς πόσις ᾖεν Ὀδυσσεύς
εἰ κεῖνός γʼ ἐλθὼν τὸν ἐμὸν βίον ἀμφιπολεύοι,
μεῖζον κε κλέος εἴη ἐμὸν καὶ κάλλιον οὕτως.
νῦν δʼ ἄχομαι· τόσα γάρ μοι ἐπέσσευεν κακὰ δαίμων.
ὅσσοι γὰρ νήσοισιν ἐπικρατέουσιν ἄριστοι,
Δουλιχίῳ τε Σάμῃ τε καὶ ὑλήεντι Ζακύνθῳ,
οἵ τʼ αὐτὴν Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον ἀμφινέμονται,
οἵ μʼ ἀεκαζομένην μνῶνται, τρύχουσι δὲ οἶκον.
τῷ οὔτε ξείνων ἐμπάζομαι οὔθʼ ἱκετάων
οὔτε τι κηρύκων, οἳ δημιοεργοὶ ἔασιν·
ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσῆ ποθέουσα φίλον κατατήκομαι ἦτορ.
οἱ δὲ γάμον σπεύδουσιν· ἐγὼ δὲ δόλους τολυπεύω.
φᾶρος μέν μοι πρῶτον ἐνέπνευσε φρεσὶ δαίμων,
στησαμένῃ μέγαν ἱστόν, ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὑφαίνειν,
λεπτὸν καὶ περίμετρον· ἄφαρ δʼ αὐτοῖς μετέειπον·
κοῦροι, ἐμοὶ μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
μίμνετʼ ἐπειγόμενοι τὸν ἐμὸν γάμον, εἰς ὅ κε φᾶρος
ἐκτελέσω—μή μοι μεταμώνια νήματʼ ὄληται—
Λαέρτῃ ἥρωϊ ταφήϊον, εἰς ὅτε κέν μιν
μοῖρʼ ὀλοὴ καθέλῃσι τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο·
μή τίς μοι κατὰ δῆμον Ἀχαιϊάδων νεμεσήσῃ,
αἴ κεν ἄτερ σπείρου κεῖται πολλὰ κτεατίσσας.
ὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
ἔνθα καὶ ἠματίη μὲν ὑφαίνεσκον μέγαν ἱστόν,
νύκτας δʼ ἀλλύεσκον, ἐπεὶ δαΐδας παραθείμην.
ὣς τρίετες μὲν ἔληθον ἐγὼ καὶ ἔπειθον Ἀχαιούς·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε τέτρατον ἦλθεν ἔτος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,
μηνῶν φθινόντων, περὶ δʼ ἤματα πόλλʼ ἐτελέσθη,
καὶ τότε δή με διὰ δμῳάς, κύνας οὐκ ἀλεγούσας,
εἷλον ἐπελθόντες καὶ ὁμόκλησαν ἐπέεσσιν.
ὣς τὸ μὲν ἐξετέλεσσα, καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλουσʼ, ὑπʼ ἀνάγκης·
νῦν δʼ οὔτʼ ἐκφυγέειν δύναμαι γάμον οὔτε τινʼ ἄλλην
μῆτιν ἔθʼ εὑρίσκω· μάλα δʼ ὀτρύνουσι τοκῆες
γήμασθʼ, ἀσχαλάᾳ δὲ πάϊς βίοτον κατεδόντων,
γιγνώσκων· ἤδη γὰρ ἀνὴρ οἷός τε μάλιστα
οἴκου κήδεσθαι, τῷ τε Ζεὺς κῦδος ὀπάζει.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὥς μοι εἰπὲ τεὸν γένος, ὁππόθεν ἐσσί.
οὐ γὰρ ἀπὸ δρυός ἐσσι παλαιφάτου οὐδʼ ἀπὸ πέτρης.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
οὐκέτʼ ἀπολλήξεις τὸν ἐμὸν γόνον ἐξερέουσα;
ἀλλʼ ἔκ τοι ἐρέω· ἦ μέν μʼ ἀχέεσσί γε δώσεις
πλείοσιν ἢ ἔχομαι· ἡ γὰρ δίκη, ὁππότε πάτρης
ἧς ἀπέῃσιν ἀνὴρ τόσσον χρόνον ὅσσον ἐγὼ νῦν,
πολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστεʼ ἀλώμενος, ἄλγεα πάσχων·
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὣς ἐρέω ὅ μʼ ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς.
Κρήτη τις γαῖʼ ἔστι, μέσῳ ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ,
καλὴ καὶ πίειρα, περίρρυτος· ἐν δʼ ἄνθρωποι
πολλοί, ἀπειρέσιοι, καὶ ἐννήκοντα πόληες.
ἄλλη δʼ ἄλλων γλῶσσα μεμιγμένη· ἐν μὲν Ἀχαιοί,
ἐν δʼ Ἐτεόκρητες μεγαλήτορες, ἐν δὲ Κύδωνες,
Δωριέες τε τριχάϊκες δῖοί τε Πελασγοί.
τῇσι δʼ ἐνὶ Κνωσός, μεγάλη πόλις, ἔνθα τε Μίνως
ἐννέωρος βασίλευε Διὸς μεγάλου ὀαριστής,
πατρὸς ἐμοῖο πατήρ, μεγαθύμου Δευκαλίωνος
Δευκαλίων δʼ ἐμὲ τίκτε καὶ Ἰδομενῆα ἄνακτα·
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἐν νήεσσι κορωνίσιν Ἴλιον εἴσω
ᾤχεθʼ ἅμʼ Ἀτρείδῃσιν, ἐμοὶ δʼ ὄνομα κλυτὸν Αἴθων,
ὁπλότερος γενεῇ· ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρότερος καὶ ἀρείων.
ἔνθʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐγὼν ἰδόμην καὶ ξείνια δῶκα.
καὶ γὰρ τὸν Κρήτηνδε κατήγαγεν ἲς ἀνέμοιο,
ἱέμενον Τροίηνδε παραπλάγξασα Μαλειῶν·
στῆσε δʼ ἐν Ἀμνισῷ, ὅθι τε σπέος Εἰλειθυίης,
ἐν λιμέσιν χαλεποῖσι, μόγις δʼ ὑπάλυξεν ἀέλλας.
αὐτίκα δʼ Ἰδομενῆα μετάλλα ἄστυδʼ ἀνελθών·
ξεῖνον γάρ οἱ ἔφασκε φίλον τʼ ἔμεν αἰδοῖόν τε.
τῷ δʼ ἤδη δεκάτη ἢ ἑνδεκάτη πέλεν ἠὼς
οἰχομένῳ σὺν νηυσὶ κορωνίσιν Ἴλιον εἴσω.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ πρὸς δώματʼ ἄγων ἐῢ ἐξείνισσα,
ἐνδυκέως φιλέων, πολλῶν κατὰ οἶκον ἐόντων·
καί οἱ τοῖς ἄλλοις ἑτάροις, οἳ ἅμʼ αὐτῷ ἕποντο,
δημόθεν ἄλφιτα δῶκα καὶ αἴθοπα οἶνον ἀγείρας
καὶ βοῦς ἱρεύσασθαι, ἵνα πλησαίατο θυμόν.
ἔνθα δυώδεκα μὲν μένον ἤματα δῖοι Ἀχαιοί·
εἴλει γὰρ Βορέης ἄνεμος μέγας οὐδʼ ἐπὶ γαίῃ
εἴα ἵστασθαι, χαλεπὸς δέ τις ὤρορε δαίμων.
τῇ τρισκαιδεκάτῃ δʼ ἄνεμος πέσε, τοὶ δʼ ἀνάγοντο.
ἴσκε ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγων ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα·
τῆς δʼ ἄρʼ ἀκουούσης ῥέε δάκρυα, τήκετο δὲ χρώς·
ὡς δὲ χιὼν κατατήκετʼ ἐν ἀκροπόλοισιν ὄρεσσιν,
ἥν τʼ Εὖρος κατέτηξεν, ἐπὴν Ζέφυρος καταχεύῃ·
τηκομένης δʼ ἄρα τῆς ποταμοὶ πλήθουσι ῥέοντες·
ὣς τῆς τήκετο καλὰ παρήϊα δάκρυ χεούσης,
κλαιούσης ἑὸν ἄνδρα παρήμενον. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
θυμῷ μὲν γοόωσαν ἑὴν ἐλέαιρε γυναῖκα,
ὀφθαλμοὶ δʼ ὡς εἰ κέρα ἕστασαν ἠὲ σίδηρος
ἀτρέμας ἐν βλεφάροισι· δόλῳ δʼ ὅ γε δάκρυα κεῦθεν.
ἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν τάρφθη πολυδακρύτοιο γόοιο,
ἐξαῦτίς μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε·
νῦν μὲν δή σευ, ξεῖνέ γʼ, ὀΐω πειρήσεσθαι,
εἰ ἐτεὸν δὴ κεῖθι σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισι
ξείνισας ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμὸν πόσιν, ὡς ἀγορεύεις.
εἰπέ μοι ὁπποῖʼ ἄσσα περὶ χροῒ εἵματα ἕστο,
αὐτός θʼ οἷος ἔην, καὶ ἑταίρους, οἵ οἱ ἕποντο.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ γύναι, ἀργαλέον τόσσον χρόνον ἀμφὶς ἐόντα
εἰπέμεν· ἤδη γάρ οἱ ἐεικοστὸν ἔτος ἐστὶν
ἐξ οὗ κεῖθεν ἔβη καὶ ἐμῆς ἀπελήλυθε πάτρης·
αὐτάρ τοι ἐρέω ὥς μοι ἰνδάλλεται ἦτορ.
χλαῖναν πορφυρέην οὔλην ἔχε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
διπλῆν· αὐτάρ οἱ περόνη χρυσοῖο τέτυκτο
αὐλοῖσιν διδύμοισι· πάροιθε δὲ δαίδαλον ἦεν·
ἐν προτέροισι πόδεσσι κύων ἔχε ποικίλον ἐλλόν,
ἀσπαίροντα λάων· τὸ δὲ θαυμάζεσκον ἅπαντες,
ὡς οἱ χρύσεοι ἐόντες ὁ μὲν λάε νεβρὸν ἀπάγχων,
αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐκφυγέειν μεμαὼς ἤσπαιρε πόδεσσι.
τὸν δὲ χιτῶνʼ ἐνόησα περὶ χροῒ σιγαλόεντα,
οἷόν τε κρομύοιο λοπὸν κάτα ἰσχαλέοιο·
τὼς μὲν ἔην μαλακός, λαμπρὸς δʼ ἦν ἠέλιος ὥς·
ἦ μὲν πολλαί γʼ αὐτὸν ἐθηήσαντο γυναῖκες.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·
οὐκ οἶδʼ ἢ τάδε ἕστο περὶ χροῒ οἴκοθʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἦ τις ἑταίρων δῶκε θοῆς ἐπὶ νηὸς ἰόντι,
ἤ τίς που καὶ ξεῖνος, ἐπεὶ πολλοῖσιν Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἔσκε φίλος· παῦροι γὰρ Ἀχαιῶν ἦσαν ὁμοῖοι.
καί οἱ ἐγὼ χάλκειον ἄορ καὶ δίπλακα δῶκα
καλὴν πορφυρέην καὶ τερμιόεντα χιτῶνα,
αἰδοίως δʼ ἀπέπεμπον ἐϋσσέλμου ἐπὶ νηός.
καὶ μέν οἱ κῆρυξ ὀλίγον προγενέστερος αὐτοῦ
εἵπετο· καὶ τόν τοι μυθήσομαι, οἷος ἔην περ.
γυρὸς ἐν ὤμοισιν, μελανόχροος, οὐλοκάρηνος,
Εὐρυβάτης δʼ ὄνομʼ ἔσκε· τίεν δέ μιν ἔξοχον ἄλλων
ὧν ἑτάρων Ὀδυσεύς, ὅτι οἱ φρεσὶν ἄρτια ᾔδη.
ὣς φάτο, τῇ δʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο,
σήματʼ ἀναγνούσῃ τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.
ἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν τάρφθη πολυδακρύτοιο γόοιο.
καὶ τότε μιν μύθοισιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε·
νῦν μὲν δή μοι, ξεῖνε, πάρος περ ἐὼν ἐλεεινός,
ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσι φίλος τʼ ἔσῃ αἰδοῖός τε·
αὐτὴ γὰρ τάδε εἵματʼ ἐγὼ πόρον, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις,
πτύξασʼ ἐκ θαλάμου, περόνην τʼ ἐπέθηκα φαεινὴν
κείνῳ ἄγαλμʼ ἔμεναι· τὸν δʼ οὐχ ὑποδέξομαι αὖτις
οἴκαδε νοστήσαντα φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
τῷ ῥα κακῇ αἴσῃ κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς
ᾤχετʼ ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
μηκέτι νῦν χρόα καλὸν ἐναίρεο, μηδέ τι θυμὸν
τῆκε, πόσιν γοόωσα. νεμεσσῶμαί γε μὲν οὐδέν·
καὶ γάρ τίς τʼ ἀλλοῖον ὀδύρεται ἄνδρʼ ὀλέσασα
κουρίδιον, τῷ τέκνα τέκῃ φιλότητι μιγεῖσα,
ἢ Ὀδυσῆʼ, ὅν φασι θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιον εἶναι.
ἀλλὰ γόου μὲν παῦσαι, ἐμεῖο δὲ σύνθεο μῦθον·
νημερτέως γάρ τοι μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω
ὡς ἤδη Ὀδυσῆος ἐγὼ περὶ νόστου ἄκουσα
ἀγχοῦ, Θεσπρωτῶν ἀνδρῶν ἐν πίονι δήμῳ,
ζωοῦ· αὐτὰρ ἄγει κειμήλια πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλὰ
αἰτίζων ἀνὰ δῆμον. ἀτὰρ ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους
ὤλεσε καὶ νῆα γλαφυρὴν ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ,
Θρινακίης ἄπο νήσου ἰών· ὀδύσαντο γὰρ αὐτῷ
Ζεύς τε καὶ Ἠέλιος· τοῦ γὰρ βόας ἔκταν ἑταῖροι.
οἱ μὲν πάντες ὄλοντο πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ·
τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ τρόπιος νεὸς ἔκβαλε κῦμʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου,
Φαιήκων ἐς γαῖαν, οἳ ἀγχίθεοι γεγάασιν,
οἳ δή μιν περὶ κῆρι θεὸν ὣς τιμήσαντο
καί οἱ πολλὰ δόσαν πέμπειν τέ μιν ἤθελον αὐτοὶ
οἴκαδʼ ἀπήμαντον. καί κεν πάλαι ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἤην· ἀλλʼ ἄρα οἱ τό γε κέρδιον εἴσατο θυμῷ,
χρήματʼ ἀγυρτάζειν πολλὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἰόντι·
ὣς περὶ κέρδεα πολλὰ καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων
οἶδʼ Ὀδυσεύς, οὐδʼ ἄν τις ἐρίσσειε βροτὸς ἄλλος.
ὥς μοι Θεσπρωτῶν βασιλεὺς μυθήσατο Φείδων·
ὤμνυε δὲ πρὸς ἔμʼ αὐτόν, ἀποσπένδων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
νῆα κατειρύσθαι καὶ ἐπαρτέας ἔμμεν ἑταίρους,
οἳ δή μιν πέμψουσι φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ἀλλʼ ἐμὲ πρὶν ἀπέπεμψε· τύχησε γὰρ ἐρχομένη νηῦς
ἀνδρῶν Θεσπρωτῶν ἐς Δουλίχιον πολύπυρον.
καί μοι κτήματʼ ἔδειξεν, ὅσα ξυναγείρατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς·
καί νύ κεν ἐς δεκάτην γενεὴν ἕτερόν γʼ ἔτι βόσκοι,
ὅσσα οἱ ἐν μεγάροις κειμήλια κεῖτο ἄνακτος.
τὸν δʼ ἐς Δωδώνην φάτο βήμεναι, ὄφρα θεοῖο
ἐκ δρυὸς ὑψικόμοιο Διὸς βουλὴν ἐπακούσαι,
ὅππως νοστήσειε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν
ἤδη δὴν ἀπεών, ἢ ἀμφαδὸν ἦε κρυφηδόν.
ὣς ὁ μὲν οὕτως ἐστὶ σόος καὶ ἐλεύσεται ἤδη
ἄγχι μάλʼ, οὐδʼ ἔτι τῆλε φίλων καὶ πατρίδος αἴης
δηρὸν ἀπεσσεῖται· ἔμπης δέ τοι ὅρκια δώσω.
ἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα, θεῶν ὕπατος καὶ ἄριστος,
ἱστίη τʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ἣν ἀφικάνω·
ἦ μέν τοι τάδε πάντα τελείεται ὡς ἀγορεύω.
τοῦδʼ αὐτοῦ λυκάβαντος ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
τοῦ μὲν φθίνοντος μηνός, τοῦ δʼ ἱσταμένοιο.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
αἲ γὰρ τοῦτο, ξεῖνε, ἔπος τετελεσμένον εἴη·
τῷ κε τάχα γνοίης φιλότητά τε πολλά τε δῶρα
ἐξ ἐμεῦ, ὡς ἄν τίς σε συναντόμενος μακαρίζοι.
ἀλλά μοι ὧδʼ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ὀΐεται, ὡς ἔσεταί περ·
οὔτʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔτι οἶκον ἐλεύσεται, οὔτε σὺ πομπῆς
τεύξῃ, ἐπεὶ οὐ τοῖοι σημάντορές εἰσʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
οἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκε μετʼ ἀνδράσιν, εἴ ποτʼ ἔην γε,
ξείνους αἰδοίους ἀποπεμπέμεν ἠδὲ δέχεσθαι.
ἀλλά μιν, ἀμφίπολοι, ἀπονίψατε, κάτθετε δʼ εὐνήν,
δέμνια καὶ χλαίνας καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα,
ὥς κʼ εὖ θαλπιόων χρυσόθρονον Ἠῶ ἵκηται.
ἠῶθεν δὲ μάλʼ ἦρι λοέσσαι τε χρῖσαί τε,
ὥς κʼ ἔνδον παρὰ Τηλεμάχῳ δείπνοιο μέδηται
ἥμενος ἐν μεγάρῳ· τῷ δʼ ἄλγιον ὅς κεν ἐκείνων
τοῦτον ἀνιάζῃ θυμοφθόρος· οὐδέ τι ἔργον
ἐνθάδʼ ἔτι πρήξει, μάλα περ κεχολωμένος αἰνῶς.
πῶς γὰρ ἐμεῦ σύ, ξεῖνε, δαήσεαι εἴ τι γυναικῶν
ἀλλάων περίειμι νόον καὶ ἐπίφρονα μῆτιν,
εἴ κεν ἀϋσταλέος, κακὰ εἱμένος ἐν μεγάροισιν
δαινύῃ; ἄνθρωποι δὲ μινυνθάδιοι τελέθουσιν.
ὃς μὲν ἀπηνὴς αὐτὸς ἔῃ καὶ ἀπηνέα εἰδῇ,
τῷ δὲ καταρῶνται πάντες βροτοὶ ἄλγεʼ ὀπίσσω
ζωῷ, ἀτὰρ τεθνεῶτί γʼ ἐφεψιόωνται ἅπαντες·
ὃς δʼ ἂν ἀμύμων αὐτὸς ἔῃ καὶ ἀμύμονα εἰδῇ,
τοῦ μέν τε κλέος εὐρὺ δὶα ξεῖνοι φορέουσι
πάντας ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους, πολλοί τέ μιν ἐσθλὸν ἔειπον.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
ἦ τοι ἐμοὶ χλαῖναι καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα
ἤχθεθʼ, ὅτε πρῶτον Κρήτης ὄρεα νιφόεντα
νοσφισάμην ἐπὶ νηὸς ἰὼν δολιχηρέτμοιο,
κείω δʼ ὡς τὸ πάρος περ ἀΰπνους νύκτας ἴαυον·
πολλὰς γὰρ δὴ νύκτας ἀεικελίῳ ἐνὶ κοίτῃ
ἄεσα καί τʼ ἀνέμεινα ἐΰθρονον Ἠῶ δῖαν.
οὐδέ τί μοι ποδάνιπτρα ποδῶν ἐπιήρανα θυμῷ
γίγνεται· οὐδὲ γυνὴ ποδὸς ἅψεται ἡμετέροιο
τάων αἵ τοι δῶμα κάτα δρήστειραι ἔασιν,
εἰ μή τις γρηῦς ἔστι παλαιή, κεδνὰ ἰδυῖα,
ἥ τις δὴ τέτληκε τόσα φρεσὶν ὅσσα τʼ ἐγώ περ·
τῇ δʼ οὐκ ἂν φθονέοιμι ποδῶν ἅψασθαι ἐμεῖο.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
ξεῖνε φίλʼ· οὐ γάρ πώ τις ἀνὴρ πεπνυμένος ὧδε
ξείνων τηλεδαπῶν φιλίων ἐμὸν ἵκετο δῶμα,
ὡς σὺ μάλʼ εὐφραδέως πεπνυμένα πάντʼ ἀγορεύεις·
ἔστι δέ μοι γρηῢς πυκινὰ φρεσὶ μήδεʼ ἔχουσα
ἣ κεῖνον δύστηνον ἐῢ τρέφεν ἠδʼ ἀτίταλλε,
δεξαμένη χείρεσσʼ, ὅτε μιν πρῶτον τέκε μήτηρ,
ἥ σε πόδας νίψει, ὀλιγηπελέουσά περ ἔμπης.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἀνστᾶσα, περίφρων Εὐρύκλεια,
νίψον σοῖο ἄνακτος ὁμήλικα· καί που Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἤδη τοιόσδʼ ἐστὶ πόδας τοιόσδε τε χεῖρας·
αἶψα γὰρ ἐν κακότητι βροτοὶ καταγηράσκουσιν.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ κατέσχετο χερσὶ πρόσωπα,
δάκρυα δʼ ἔκβαλε θερμά, ἔπος δʼ ὀλοφυδνὸν ἔειπεν·
ὤ μοι ἐγὼ σέο, τέκνον, ἀμήχανος· ἦ σε περὶ Ζεὺς
ἀνθρώπων ἤχθηρε θεουδέα θυμὸν ἔχοντα.
οὐ γάρ πώ τις τόσσα βροτῶν Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ
πίονα μηρίʼ ἔκηʼ οὐδʼ ἐξαίτους ἑκατόμβας,
ὅσσα σὺ τῷ ἐδίδους, ἀρώμενος ἧος ἵκοιο
γῆράς τε λιπαρὸν θρέψαιό τε φαίδιμον υἱόν·
νῦν δέ τοι οἴῳ πάμπαν ἀφείλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.
οὕτω που καὶ κείνῳ ἐφεψιόωντο γυναῖκες
ξείνων τηλεδαπῶν, ὅτε τευ κλυτὰ δώμαθʼ ἵκοιτο,
ὡς σέθεν αἱ κύνες αἵδε καθεψιόωνται ἅπασαι,
τάων νῦν λώβην τε καὶ αἴσχεα πόλλʼ ἀλεείνων
οὐκ ἐάᾳς νίζειν· ἐμὲ δʼ οὐκ ἀέκουσαν ἄνωγε
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρων Πηνελόπεια.
τῷ σε πόδας νίψω ἅμα τʼ αὐτῆς Πηνελοπείης
καὶ σέθεν εἵνεκʼ, ἐπεί μοι ὀρώρεται ἔνδοθι θυμὸς
κήδεσιν. ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ξυνίει ἔπος, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·
πολλοὶ δὴ ξεῖνοι ταλαπείριοι ἐνθάδʼ ἵκοντο,
ἀλλʼ οὔ πώ τινά φημι ἐοικότα ὧδε ἰδέσθαι
ὡς σὺ δέμας φωνήν τε πόδας τʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ ἔοικας.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ γρηῦ, οὕτω φασὶν ὅσοι ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν
ἡμέας ἀμφοτέρους, μάλα εἰκέλω ἀλλήλοιϊν
ἔμμεναι, ὡς σύ περ αὐτὴ ἐπιφρονέουσʼ ἀγορεύεις.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ λέβηθʼ ἕλε παμφανόωντα
τοῦ πόδας ἐξαπένιζεν, ὕδωρ δʼ ἐνεχεύατο πουλὺ
ψυχρόν, ἔπειτα δὲ θερμὸν ἐπήφυσεν. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἷζεν ἐπʼ ἐσχαρόφιν, ποτὶ δὲ σκότον ἐτράπετʼ αἶψα·
αὐτίκα γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ὀΐσατο, μή ἑ λαβοῦσα
οὐλὴν ἀμφράσσαιτο καὶ ἀμφαδὰ ἔργα γένοιτο.
νίζε δʼ ἄρʼ ἆσσον ἰοῦσα ἄναχθʼ ἑόν· αὐτίκα δʼ ἔγνω
οὐλήν, τήν ποτέ μιν σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι
Παρνησόνδʼ ἐλθόντα μετʼ Αὐτόλυκόν τε καὶ υἷας,
μητρὸς ἑῆς πάτερʼ ἐσθλόν, ὃς ἀνθρώπους ἐκέκαστο
κλεπτοσύνῃ θʼ ὅρκῳ τε· θεὸς δέ οἱ αὐτὸς ἔδωκεν
Ἑρμείας· τῷ γὰρ κεχαρισμένα μηρία καῖεν
ἀρνῶν ἠδʼ ἐρίφων· ὁ δέ οἱ πρόφρων ἅμʼ ὀπήδει.
Αὐτόλυκος δʼ ἐλθὼν Ἰθάκης ἐς πίονα δῆμον
παῖδα νέον γεγαῶτα κιχήσατο θυγατέρος ἧς·
τόν ῥά οἱ Εὐρύκλεια φίλοις ἐπὶ γούνασι θῆκε
παυομένῳ δόρποιο, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
Αὐτόλυκʼ, αὐτὸς νῦν ὄνομʼ εὕρεο ὅττι κε θῆαι
παιδὸς παιδὶ φίλῳ· πολυάρητος δέ τοί ἐστιν.
τὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Αὐτόλυκος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
γαμβρὸς ἐμὸς θυγάτηρ τε, τίθεσθʼ ὄνομʼ ὅττι κεν εἴπω·
πολλοῖσιν γὰρ ἐγώ γε ὀδυσσάμενος τόδʼ ἱκάνω,
ἀνδράσιν ἠδὲ γυναιξὶν ἀνὰ χθόνα πουλυβότειραν·
τῷ δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ὄνομʼ ἔστω ἐπώνυμον· αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε,
ὁππότʼ ἂν ἡβήσας μητρώϊον ἐς μέγα δῶμα
ἔλθῃ Παρνησόνδʼ, ὅθι πού μοι κτήματʼ ἔασι,
τῶν οἱ ἐγὼ δώσω καί μιν χαίροντʼ ἀποπέμψω.
τῶν ἕνεκʼ ἦλθʼ Ὀδυσεύς, ἵνα οἱ πόροι ἀγλαὰ δῶρα.
τὸν μὲν ἄρʼ Αὐτόλυκός τε καὶ υἱέες Αὐτολύκοιο
χερσίν τʼ ἠσπάζοντο ἔπεσσί τε μειλιχίοισι·
μήτηρ δʼ Ἀμφιθέη μητρὸς περιφῦσʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ
κύσσʼ ἄρα μιν κεφαλήν τε καὶ ἄμφω φάεα καλά.
Αὐτόλυκος δʼ υἱοῖσιν ἐκέκλετο κυδαλίμοισι
δεῖπνον ἐφοπλίσσαι· τοὶ δʼ ὀτρύνοντος ἄκουσαν,
αὐτίκα δʼ εἰσάγαγον βοῦν ἄρσενα πενταέτηρον·
τὸν δέρον ἀμφί θʼ ἕπον, καί μιν διέχευαν ἅπαντα,
μίστυλλόν τʼ ἄρʼ ἐπισταμένως πεῖράν τʼ ὀβελοῖσιν,
ὤπτησάν τε περιφραδέως, δάσσαντό τε μοίρας.
ὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα
δαίνυντʼ, οὐδέ τι θυμὸς ἐδεύετο δαιτὸς ἐΐσης·
ἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθεν,
δὴ τότε κοιμήσαντο καὶ ὕπνου δῶρον ἕλοντο.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
βάν ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐς θήρην, ἠμὲν κύνες ἠδὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ
υἱέες Αὐτολύκου· μετὰ τοῖσι δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἤϊεν· αἰπὺ δʼ ὄρος προσέβαν καταειμένον ὕλῃ
Παρνησοῦ, τάχα δʼ ἵκανον πτύχας ἠνεμοέσσας.
Ἠέλιος μὲν ἔπειτα νέον προσέβαλλεν ἀρούρας
ἐξ ἀκαλαρρείταο βαθυρρόου Ὠκεανοῖο,
οἱ δʼ ἐς βῆσσαν ἵκανον ἐπακτῆρες· πρὸ δʼ ἄρʼ αὐτῶν
ἴχνιʼ ἐρευνῶντες κύνες ἤϊσαν, αὐτὰρ ὄπισθεν
υἱέες Αὐτολύκου· μετὰ τοῖσι δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἤϊεν ἄγχι κυνῶν, κραδάων δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος.
ἔνθα δʼ ἄρʼ ἐν λόχμῃ πυκινῇ κατέκειτο μέγας σῦς·
τὴν μὲν ἄρʼ οὔτʼ ἀνέμων διάει μένος ὑγρὸν ἀέντων,
οὔτε μιν Ἠέλιος φαέθων ἀκτῖσιν ἔβαλλεν,
οὔτʼ ὄμβρος περάασκε διαμπερές· ὣς ἄρα πυκνὴ
ἦεν, ἀτὰρ φύλλων ἐνέην χύσις ἤλιθα πολλή.
τὸν δʼ ἀνδρῶν τε κυνῶν τε περὶ κτύπος ἦλθε ποδοῖϊν,
ὡς ἐπάγοντες ἐπῇσαν· ὁ δʼ ἀντίος ἐκ ξυλόχοιο
φρίξας εὖ λοφιήν, πῦρ δʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσι δεδορκώς,
στῆ ῥʼ αὐτῶν σχεδόθεν· ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρώτιστος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἔσσυτʼ ἀνασχόμενος δολιχὸν δόρυ χειρὶ παχείῃ,
οὐτάμεναι μεμαώς· ὁ δέ μιν φθάμενος ἔλασεν σῦς
γουνὸς ὕπερ, πολλὸν δὲ διήφυσε σαρκὸς ὀδόντι
λικριφὶς ἀΐξας, οὐδʼ ὀστέον ἵκετο φωτός.
τὸν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς οὔτησε τυχὼν κατὰ δεξιὸν ὦμον,
ἀντικρὺ δὲ διῆλθε φαεινοῦ δουρὸς ἀκωκή·
κὰδ δʼ ἔπεσʼ ἐν κονίῃσι μακών, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔπτατο θυμός.
τὸν μὲν ἄρʼ Αὐτολύκου παῖδες φίλοι ἀμφεπένοντο,
ὠτειλὴν δʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος ἀντιθέοιο
δῆσαν ἐπισταμένως, ἐπαοιδῇ δʼ αἷμα κελαινὸν
ἔσχεθον, αἶψα δʼ ἵκοντο φίλου πρὸς δώματα πατρός.
τὸν μὲν ἄρʼ Αὐτόλυκός τε καὶ υἱέες Αὐτολύκοιο
εὖ ἰησάμενοι ἠδʼ ἀγλαὰ δῶρα πορόντες
καρπαλίμως χαίροντα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔπεμπον
εἰς Ἰθάκην. τῷ μέν ῥα πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ
χαῖρον νοστήσαντι καὶ ἐξερέεινον ἕκαστα,
οὐλὴν ὅττι πάθοι· ὁ δʼ ἄρα σφίσιν εὖ κατέλεξεν
ὥς μιν θηρεύοντʼ ἔλασεν σῦς λευκῷ ὀδόντι,
Παρνησόνδʼ ἐλθόντα σὺν υἱάσιν Αὐτολύκοιο.
τὴν γρηῢς χείρεσσι καταπρηνέσσι λαβοῦσα
γνῶ ῥʼ ἐπιμασσαμένη, πόδα δὲ προέηκε φέρεσθαι·
ἐν δὲ λέβητι πέσε κνήμη, κανάχησε δὲ χαλκός,
ἂψ δʼ ἑτέρωσʼ ἐκλίθη· τὸ δʼ ἐπὶ χθονὸς ἐξέχυθʼ ὕδωρ.
τὴν δʼ ἅμα χάρμα καὶ ἄλγος ἕλε φρένα, τὼ δέ οἱ ὄσσε
δακρυόφι πλῆσθεν, θαλερὴ δέ οἱ ἔσχετο φωνή.
ἁψαμένη δὲ γενείου Ὀδυσσῆα προσέειπεν·
ἦ μάλʼ Ὀδυσσεύς ἐσσι, φίλον τέκος· οὐδέ σʼ ἐγώ γε
πρὶν ἔγνων, πρὶν πάντα ἄνακτʼ ἐμὸν ἀμφαφάασθαι.
ἦ καὶ Πηνελόπειαν ἐσέδρακεν ὀφθαλμοῖσι,
πεφραδέειν ἐθέλουσα φίλον πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα.
ἡ δʼ οὔτʼ ἀθρῆσαι δύνατʼ ἀντίη οὔτε νοῆσαι·
τῇ γὰρ Ἀθηναίη νόον ἔτραπεν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
χεῖρʼ ἐπιμασσάμενος φάρυγος λάβε δεξιτερῆφι,
τῇ δʼ ἑτέρῃ ἕθεν ἆσσον ἐρύσσατο φώνησέν τε.
μαῖα, τίη μʼ ἐθέλεις ὀλέσαι; σὺ δέ μʼ ἔτρεφες αὐτὴ
τῷ σῷ ἐπὶ μαζῷ· νῦν δʼ ἄλγεα πολλὰ μογήσας
ἤλυθον εἰκοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ ἐφράσθης καί τοι θεὸς ἔμβαλε θυμῷ,
σίγα, μή τίς τʼ ἄλλος ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πύθηται.
ὧδε γὰρ ἐξερέω, καὶ μὴν τετελεσμένον ἔσται·
εἴ χʼ ὑπʼ ἐμοί γε θεὸς δαμάσῃ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,
οὐδὲ τροφοῦ οὔσης σεῦ ἀφέξομαι, ὁππότʼ ἂν ἄλλας
δμῳὰς ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖς κτείνωμι γυναῖκας.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Εὐρύκλεια·
τέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων.
οἶσθα μὲν οἷον ἐμὸν μένος ἔμπεδον οὐδʼ ἐπιεικτόν,
ἕξω δʼ ὡς ὅτε τις στερεὴ λίθος ἠὲ σίδηρος.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·
εἴ χʼ ὑπό σοι γε θεὸς δαμάσῃ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,
δὴ τότε τοι καταλέξω ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναῖκας,
αἵ τέ σʼ ἀτιμάζουσι καὶ αἳ νηλείτιδές εἰσι.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
μαῖα, τίη δὲ σὺ τὰς μυθήσεαι; οὐδέ τί σε χρή.
εὖ νυ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐγὼ φράσομαι καὶ εἴσομʼ ἑκάστην·
ἀλλʼ ἔχε σιγῇ μῦθον, ἐπίτρεψον δὲ θεοῖσιν.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει
οἰσομένη ποδάνιπτρα· τὰ γὰρ πρότερʼ ἔκχυτο πάντα.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ νίψεν τε καὶ ἤλειψεν λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ,
αὖτις ἄρʼ ἀσσοτέρω πυρὸς ἕλκετο δίφρον Ὀδυσσεὺς
θερσόμενος, οὐλὴν δὲ κατὰ ῥακέεσσι κάλυψε.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
ξεῖνε, τὸ μέν σʼ ἔτι τυτθὸν ἐγὼν εἰρήσομαι αὐτή·
καὶ γὰρ δὴ κοίτοιο τάχʼ ἔσσεται ἡδέος ὥρη,
ὅν τινά γʼ ὕπνος ἕλοι γλυκερός, καὶ κηδόμενόν περ.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ καὶ πένθος ἀμέτρητον πόρε δαίμων·
ἤματα μὲν γὰρ τέρπομʼ ὀδυρομένη, γοόωσα,
ἔς τʼ ἐμὰ ἔργʼ ὁρόωσα καὶ ἀμφιπόλων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ·
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν νὺξ ἔλθῃ, ἕλῃσί τε κοῖτος ἅπαντας,
κεῖμαι ἐνὶ λέκτρῳ, πυκιναὶ δέ μοι ἀμφʼ ἀδινὸν κῆρ
ὀξεῖαι μελεδῶνες ὀδυρομένην ἐρέθουσιν.
ὡς δʼ ὅτε Πανδαρέου κούρη, χλωρηῒς ἀηδών,
καλὸν ἀείδῃσιν ἔαρος νέον ἱσταμένοιο,
δενδρέων ἐν πετάλοισι καθεζομένη πυκινοῖσιν,
ἥ τε θαμὰ τρωπῶσα χέει πολυηχέα φωνήν,
παῖδʼ ὀλοφυρομένη Ἴτυλον φίλον, ὅν ποτε χαλκῷ
κτεῖνε διʼ ἀφραδίας, κοῦρον Ζήθοιο ἄνακτος,
ὣς καὶ ἐμοὶ δίχα θυμὸς ὀρώρεται ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,
ἠὲ μένω παρὰ παιδὶ καὶ ἔμπεδα πάντα φυλάσσω,
κτῆσιν ἐμήν, δμῶάς τε καὶ ὑψερεφὲς μέγα δῶμα,
εὐνήν τʼ αἰδομένη πόσιος δήμοιό τε φῆμιν,
ἦ ἤδη ἅμʼ ἕπωμαι Ἀχαιῶν ὅς τις ἄριστος
μνᾶται ἐνὶ μεγάροισι, πορὼν ἀπερείσια ἕδνα.
παῖς δʼ ἐμὸς ἧος ἔην ἔτι νήπιος ἠδὲ χαλίφρων,
γήμασθʼ οὔ μʼ εἴα πόσιος κατὰ δῶμα λιποῦσαν·
νῦν δʼ ὅτε δὴ μέγας ἐστὶ καὶ ἥβης μέτρον ἱκάνει,
καὶ δή μʼ ἀρᾶται πάλιν ἐλθέμεν ἐκ μεγάροιο,
κτήσιος ἀσχαλόων, τήν οἱ κατέδουσιν Ἀχαιοί.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τὸν ὄνειρον ὑπόκριναι καὶ ἄκουσον.
χῆνές μοι κατὰ οἶκον ἐείκοσι πυρὸν ἔδουσιν
ἐξ ὕδατος, καί τέ σφιν ἰαίνομαι εἰσορόωσα·
ἐλθὼν δʼ ἐξ ὄρεος μέγας αἰετὸς ἀγκυλοχείλης
πᾶσι κατʼ αὐχένας ἦξε καὶ ἔκτανεν· οἱ δʼ ἐκέχυντο
ἀθρόοι ἐν μεγάροις, ὁ δʼ ἐς αἰθέρα δῖαν ἀέρθη.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ κλαῖον καὶ ἐκώκυον ἔν περ ὀνείρῳ,
ἀμφὶ δʼ ἔμʼ ἠγερέθοντο ἐϋπλοκαμῖδες Ἀχαιαί,
οἴκτρʼ ὀλοφυρομένην ὅ μοι αἰετὸς ἔκτανε χῆνας.
ἂψ δʼ ἐλθὼν κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ προὔχοντι μελάθρῳ,
φωνῇ δὲ βροτέῃ κατερήτυε φώνησέν τε·
θάρσει, Ἰκαρίου κούρη τηλεκλειτοῖο·
οὐκ ὄναρ, ἀλλʼ ὕπαρ ἐσθλόν, ὅ τοι τετελεσμένον ἔσται.
χῆνες μὲν μνηστῆρες, ἐγὼ δέ τοι αἰετὸς ὄρνις
ἦα πάρος, νῦν αὖτε τεὸς πόσις εἰλήλουθα,
ὃς πᾶσι μνηστῆρσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφήσω.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ μελιηδὴς ὕπνος ἀνῆκε·
παπτήνασα δὲ χῆνας ἐνὶ μεγάροισι νόησα
πυρὸν ἐρεπτομένους παρὰ πύελον, ἧχι πάρος περ.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ γύναι, οὔ πως ἔστιν ὑποκρίνασθαι ὄνειρον
ἄλλῃ ἀποκλίναντʼ, ἐπεὶ ἦ ῥά τοι αὐτὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς
πέφραδʼ ὅπως τελέει· μνηστῆρσι δὲ φαίνετʼ ὄλεθρος
πᾶσι μάλʼ, οὐδέ κέ τις θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξει.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
ξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν ὄνειροι ἀμήχανοι ἀκριτόμυθοι
γίγνοντʼ, οὐδέ τι πάντα τελείεται ἀνθρώποισι.
δοιαὶ γάρ τε πύλαι ἀμενηνῶν εἰσὶν ὀνείρων·
αἱ μὲν γὰρ κεράεσσι τετεύχαται, αἱ δʼ ἐλέφαντι·
τῶν οἳ μέν κʼ ἔλθωσι διὰ πριστοῦ ἐλέφαντος,
οἵ ῥʼ ἐλεφαίρονται, ἔπεʼ ἀκράαντα φέροντες·
οἱ δὲ διὰ ξεστῶν κεράων ἔλθωσι θύραζε,
οἵ ῥʼ ἔτυμα κραίνουσι, βροτῶν ὅτε κέν τις ἴδηται.
ἀλλʼ ἐμοὶ οὐκ ἐντεῦθεν ὀΐομαι αἰνὸν ὄνειρον
ἐλθέμεν· ἦ κʼ ἀσπαστὸν ἐμοὶ καὶ παιδὶ γένοιτο.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·
ἥδε δὴ ἠὼς εἶσι δυσώνυμος, ἥ μʼ Ὀδυσῆος
οἴκου ἀποσχήσει· νῦν γὰρ καταθήσω ἄεθλον,
τοὺς πελέκεας, τοὺς κεῖνος ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἑοῖσιν
ἵστασχʼ ἑξείης, δρυόχους ὥς, δώδεκα πάντας·
στὰς δʼ ὅ γε πολλὸν ἄνευθε διαρρίπτασκεν ὀϊστόν.
νῦν δὲ μνηστήρεσσιν ἄεθλον τοῦτον ἐφήσω·
ὃς δέ κε ῥηΐτατʼ ἐντανύσῃ βιὸν ἐν παλάμῃσι
καὶ διοϊστεύσῃ πελέκεων δυοκαίδεκα πάντων,
τῷ κεν ἅμʼ ἑσποίμην, νοσφισσαμένη τόδε δῶμα
κουρίδιον, μάλα καλόν, ἐνίπλειον βιότοιο·
τοῦ ποτὲ μεμνήσεσθαι ὀΐομαι ἔν περ ὀνείρῳ.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
ὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
μηκέτι νῦν ἀνάβαλλε δόμοις ἔνι τοῦτον ἄεθλον·
πρὶν γάρ τοι πολύμητις ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,
πρὶν τούτους τόδε τόξον ἐΰξοον ἀμφαφόωντας
νευρήν τʼ ἐντανύσαι διοϊστεῦσαί τε σιδήρου.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
εἴ κʼ ἐθέλοις μοι, ξεῖνε, παρήμενος ἐν μεγάροισι
τέρπειν, οὔ κέ μοι ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι χυθείη.
ἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ πως ἔστιν ἀΰπνους ἔμμεναι αἰεὶ
ἀνθρώπους· ἐπὶ γάρ τοι ἑκάστῳ μοῖραν ἔθηκαν
ἀθάνατοι θνητοῖσιν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼν ὑπερώϊον εἰσαναβᾶσα
λέξομαι εἰς εὐνήν, ἥ μοι στονόεσσα τέτυκται,
αἰεὶ δάκρυσʼ ἐμοῖσι πεφυρμένη, ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ᾤχετʼ ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν.
ἔνθα κε λεξαίμην· σὺ δὲ λέξεο τῷδʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
ἢ χαμάδις στορέσας ἤ τοι κατὰ δέμνια θέντων.
ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀνέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα σιγαλόεντα,
οὐκ οἴη, ἅμα τῇ γε καὶ ἀμφίπολοι κίον ἄλλαι.
ἐς δʼ ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶ
κλαῖεν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα, φίλον πόσιν, ὄφρα οἱ ὕπνον
ἡδὺν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι βάλε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.

### Book 20

αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐν προδόμῳ εὐνάζετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
κὰμ μὲν ἀδέψητον βοέην στόρεσʼ, αὐτὰρ ὕπερθε
κώεα πόλλʼ ὀΐων, τοὺς ἱρεύεσκον Ἀχαιοί·
Εὐρυνόμη δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ χλαῖναν βάλε κοιμηθέντι.
ἔνθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς μνηστῆρσι κακὰ φρονέων ἐνὶ θυμῷ
κεῖτʼ ἐγρηγορόων· ταὶ δʼ ἐκ μεγάροιο γυναῖκες
ἤϊσαν, αἳ μνηστῆρσιν ἐμισγέσκοντο πάρος περ,
ἀλλήλῃσι γέλω τε καὶ εὐφροσύνην παρέχουσαι.
τοῦ δʼ ὠρίνετο θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισι·
πολλὰ δὲ μερμήριζε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
ἠὲ μεταΐξας θάνατον τεύξειεν ἑκάστῃ,
ἦ ἔτʼ ἐῷ μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι μιγῆναι
ὕστατα καὶ πύματα, κραδίη δέ οἱ ἔνδον ὑλάκτει.
ὡς δὲ κύων ἀμαλῇσι περὶ σκυλάκεσσι βεβῶσα
ἄνδρʼ ἀγνοιήσασʼ ὑλάει μέμονέν τε μάχεσθαι,
ὥς ῥα τοῦ ἔνδον ὑλάκτει ἀγαιομένου κακὰ ἔργα·
στῆθος δὲ πλήξας κραδίην ἠνίπαπε μύθῳ·
τέτλαθι δή, κραδίη· καὶ κύντερον ἄλλο ποτʼ ἔτλης.
ἤματι τῷ ὅτε μοι μένος ἄσχετος ἤσθιε Κύκλωψ
ἰφθίμους ἑτάρους· σὺ δʼ ἐτόλμας, ὄφρα σε μῆτις
ἐξάγαγʼ ἐξ ἄντροιο ὀϊόμενον θανέεσθαι.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, ἐν στήθεσσι καθαπτόμενος φίλον ἦτορ·
τῷ δὲ μάλʼ ἐν πείσῃ κραδίη μένε τετληυῖα
νωλεμέως· ἀτὰρ αὐτὸς ἑλίσσετο ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα.
ὡς δʼ ὅτε γαστέρʼ ἀνὴρ πολέος πυρὸς αἰθομένοιο,
ἐμπλείην κνίσης τε καὶ αἵματος, ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα
αἰόλλῃ, μάλα δʼ ὦκα λιλαίεται ὀπτηθῆναι,
ὣς ἄρʼ ὅ γʼ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα ἑλίσσετο, μερμηρίζων
ὅππως δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσει
μοῦνος ἐὼν πολέσι. σχεδόθεν δέ οἱ ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη
οὐρανόθεν καταβᾶσα· δέμας δʼ ἤϊκτο γυναικί·
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
τίπτʼ αὖτʼ ἐγρήσσεις, πάντων περὶ κάμμορε φωτῶν;
οἶκος μέν τοι ὅδʼ ἐστί, γυνὴ δέ τοι ἥδʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
καὶ, πάϊς, οἷόν πού τις ἐέλδεται ἔμμεναι υἷα.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε πάντα, θεά, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες·
ἀλλά τί μοι τόδε θυμὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμηρίζει,
ὅππως δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσω,
μοῦνος ἐών· οἱ δʼ αἰὲν ἀολλέες ἔνδον ἔασι.
πρὸς δʼ ἔτι καὶ τόδε μεῖζον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμηρίζω·
εἴ περ γὰρ κτείναιμι Διός τε σέθεν τε ἕκητι,
πῆ κεν ὑπεκπροφύγοιμι; τά σε φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
σχέτλιε, καὶ μέν τίς τε χερείονι πείθεθʼ ἑταίρῳ,
ὅς περ θνητός τʼ ἐστὶ καὶ οὐ τόσα μήδεα οἶδεν·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ θεός εἰμι, διαμπερὲς ἥ σε φυλάσσω
ἐν πάντεσσι πόνοις. ἐρέω δέ τοι ἐξαναφανδόν·
εἴ περ πεντήκοντα λόχοι μερόπων ἀνθρώπων
νῶϊ περισταῖεν, κτεῖναι μεμαῶτες Ἄρηϊ,
καί κεν τῶν ἐλάσαιο βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα.
ἀλλʼ ἑλέτω σε καὶ ὕπνος· ἀνίη καὶ τὸ φυλάσσειν
πάννυχον ἐγρήσσοντα, κακῶν δʼ ὑποδύσεαι ἤδη.
ὣς φάτο, καί ῥά οἱ ὕπνον ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔχευεν,
αὐτὴ δʼ ἂψ ἐς Ὄλυμπον ἀφίκετο δῖα θεάων.
εὖτε τὸν ὕπνος ἔμαρπτε, λύων μελεδήματα θυμοῦ,
λυσιμελής, ἄλοχος δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπέγρετο κεδνὰ ἰδυῖα·
κλαῖε δʼ ἄρʼ ἐν λέκτροισι καθεζομένη μαλακοῖσιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κλαίουσα κορέσσατο ὃν κατὰ θυμόν,
Ἀρτέμιδι πρώτιστον ἐπεύξατο δῖα γυναικῶν·
Ἄρτεμι, πότνα θεά, θύγατερ Διός, αἴθε μοι ἤδη
ἰὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι βαλοῦσʼ ἐκ θυμὸν ἕλοιο
αὐτίκα νῦν, ἢ ἔπειτα μʼ ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα
οἴχοιτο προφέρουσα κατʼ ἠερόεντα κέλευθα,
ἐν προχοῇς δὲ βάλοι ἀψορρόου Ὠκεανοῖο.
ὡς δʼ ὅτε Πανδαρέου κούρας ἀνέλοντο θύελλαι·
τῇσι τοκῆας μὲν φθῖσαν θεοί, αἱ δʼ ἐλίποντο
ὀρφαναὶ ἐν μεγάροισι, κόμισσε δὲ δῖʼ Ἀφροδίτη
τυρῷ καὶ μέλιτι γλυκερῷ καὶ ἡδέϊ οἴνῳ·
Ἥρη δʼ αὐτῇσιν περὶ πασέων δῶκε γυναικῶν
εἶδος καὶ πινυτήν, μῆκος δʼ ἔπορʼ Ἄρτεμις ἁγνή,
ἔργα δʼ Ἀθηναίη δέδαε κλυτὰ ἐργάζεσθαι.
εὖτʼ Ἀφροδίτη δῖα προσέστιχε μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον,
κούρῃς αἰτήσουσα τέλος θαλεροῖο γάμοιο—
ἐς Δία τερπικέραυνον, ὁ γάρ τʼ εὖ οἶδεν ἅπαντα,
μοῖράν τʼ ἀμμορίην τε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων—
τόφρα δὲ τὰς κούρας ἅρπυιαι ἀνηρείψαντο
καί ῥʼ ἔδοσαν στυγερῇσιν ἐρινύσιν ἀμφιπολεύειν·
ὣς ἔμʼ ἀϊστώσειαν Ὀλύμπια δώματʼ ἔχοντες,
ἠέ μʼ ἐϋπλόκαμος βάλοι Ἄρτεμις, ὄφρʼ Ὀδυσῆα
ὀσσομένη καὶ γαῖαν ὕπο στυγερὴν ἀφικοίμην,
μηδέ τι χείρονος ἀνδρὸς ἐϋφραίνοιμι νόημα.
ἀλλὰ τὸ μὲν καὶ ἀνεκτὸν ἔχει κακόν, ὁππότε κέν τις
ἤματα μὲν κλαίῃ, πυκινῶς ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ,
νύκτας δʼ ὕπνος ἔχῃσιν—ὁ γάρ τʼ ἐπέλησεν ἁπάντων,
ἐσθλῶν ἠδὲ κακῶν, ἐπεὶ ἄρ βλέφαρʼ ἀμφικαλύψῃ—
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ καὶ ὀνείρατʼ ἐπέσσευεν κακὰ δαίμων.
τῇδε γὰρ αὖ μοι νυκτὶ παρέδραθεν εἴκελος αὐτῷ,
τοῖος ἐὼν οἷος ᾖεν ἅμα στρατῷ· αὐτὰρ ἐμὸν κῆρ
χαῖρʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἐφάμην ὄναρ ἔμμεναι, ἀλλʼ ὕπαρ ἤδη.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτίκα δὲ χρυσόθρονος ἤλυθεν Ἠώς.
τῆς δʼ ἄρα κλαιούσης ὄπα σύνθετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
μερμήριζε δʼ ἔπειτα, δόκησε δέ οἱ κατὰ θυμὸν
ἤδη γιγνώσκουσα παρεστάμεναι κεφαλῆφι.
χλαῖναν μὲν συνελὼν καὶ κώεα, τοῖσιν ἐνεῦδεν,
ἐς μέγαρον κατέθηκεν ἐπὶ θρόνου, ἐκ δὲ βοείην
θῆκε θύραζε φέρων, Διὶ δʼ εὔξατο χεῖρας ἀνασχών·
Ζεῦ πάτερ, εἴ μʼ ἐθέλοντες ἐπὶ τραφερήν τε καὶ ὑγρὴν
ἤγετʼ ἐμὴν ἐς γαῖαν, ἐπεί μʼ ἐκακώσατε λίην,
φήμην τίς μοι φάσθω ἐγειρομένων ἀνθρώπων
ἔνδοθεν, ἔκτοσθεν δὲ Διὸς τέρας ἄλλο φανήτω.
ὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος· τοῦ δʼ ἔκλυε μητίετα Ζεύς,
αὐτίκα δʼ ἐβρόντησεν ἀπʼ αἰγλήεντος Ὀλύμπου,
ὑψόθεν ἐκ νεφέων· γήθησε δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
φήμην δʼ ἐξ οἴκοιο γυνὴ προέηκεν ἀλετρὶς
πλησίον, ἔνθʼ ἄρα οἱ μύλαι ἥατο ποιμένι λαῶν,
τῇσιν δώδεκα πᾶσαι ἐπερρώοντο γυναῖκες
ἄλφιτα τεύχουσαι καὶ ἀλείατα, μυελὸν ἀνδρῶν.
αἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἄλλαι εὗδον, ἐπεὶ κατὰ πυρὸν ἄλεσσαν,
ἡ δὲ μίʼ οὔπω παύετʼ, ἀφαυροτάτη δʼ ἐτέτυκτο·
ἥ ῥα μύλην στήσασα ἔπος φάτο, σῆμα ἄνακτι·
Ζεῦ πάτερ, ὅς τε θεοῖσι καὶ ἀνθρώποισιν ἀνάσσεις,
ἦ μεγάλʼ ἐβρόντησας ἀπʼ οὐρανοῦ ἀστερόεντος,
οὐδέ ποθι νέφος ἐστί· τέρας νύ τεῳ τόδε φαίνεις.
κρῆνον νῦν καὶ ἐμοὶ δειλῇ ἔπος, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·
μνηστῆρες πύματόν τε καὶ ὕστατον ἤματι τῷδε
ἐν μεγάροις Ὀδυσῆος ἑλοίατο δαῖτʼ ἐρατεινήν,
οἳ δή μοι καμάτῳ θυμαλγέι· γούνατʼ ἔλυσαν
ἄλφιτα τευχούσῃ· νῦν ὕστατα δειπνήσειαν.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, χαῖρεν δὲ κλεηδόνι δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
Ζηνός τε βροντῇ· φάτο γὰρ τίσασθαι ἀλείτας.
αἱ δʼ ἄλλαι δμῳαὶ κατὰ δώματα κάλʼ Ὀδυσῆος
ἀγρόμεναι ἀνέκαιον ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἀκάματον πῦρ.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ εὐνῆθεν ἀνίστατο, ἰσόθεος φώς,
εἵματα ἑσσάμενος· περὶ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτʼ ὤμῳ·
ποσσὶ δʼ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
εἵλετο δʼ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος, ἀκαχμένον ὀξέι· χαλκῷ·
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰών, πρὸς δʼ Εὐρύκλειαν ἔειπε·
μαῖα φίλη, τὸν ξεῖνον ἐτιμήσασθʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
εὐνῇ καὶ σίτῳ, ἦ αὔτως κεῖται ἀκηδής;
τοιαύτη γὰρ ἐμὴ μήτηρ, πινυτή περ ἐοῦσα·
ἐμπλήγδην ἕτερόν γε τίει μερόπων ἀνθρώπων
χείρονα, τὸν δέ τʼ ἀρείονʼ ἀτιμήσασʼ ἀποπέμπει.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Εὐρύκλεια·
οὐκ ἄν μιν νῦν, τέκνον, ἀναίτιον αἰτιόῳο.
οἶνον μὲν γὰρ πῖνε καθήμενος, ὄφρʼ ἔθελʼ αὐτός,
σίτου δʼ οὐκέτʼ ἔφη πεινήμεναι· εἴρετο γάρ μιν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ κοίτοιο καὶ ὕπνου μιμνήσκοιτο,
ἡ μὲν δέμνιʼ ἄνωγεν ὑποστορέσαι δμῳῇσιν,
αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ, ὥς τις πάμπαν ὀϊζυρὸς καὶ ἄποτμος,
οὐκ ἔθελʼ ἐν λέκτροισι καὶ ἐν ῥήγεσσι καθεύδειν,
ἀλλʼ ἐν ἀδεψήτῳ βοέῃ καὶ κώεσιν οἰῶν
ἔδραθʼ ἐνὶ προδόμῳ· χλαῖναν δʼ ἐπιέσσαμεν ἡμεῖς.
ὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει
ἔγχος ἔχων, ἅμα τῷ γε δύω κύνες ἀργοὶ ἕποντο.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν εἰς ἀγορὴν μετʼ ἐϋκνήμιδας Ἀχαιούς.
ἡ δʼ αὖτε δμῳῇσιν ἐκέκλετο δῖα γυναικῶν,
Εὐρύκλειʼ, Ὦπος θυγάτηρ Πεισηνορίδαο·
ἀγρεῖθʼ, αἱ μὲν δῶμα κορήσατε ποιπνύσασαι,
ῥάσσατέ τʼ, ἔν τε θρόνοις εὐποιήτοισι τάπητας
βάλλετε πορφυρέους· αἱ δὲ σπόγγοισι τραπέζας
πάσας ἀμφιμάσασθε, καθήρατε δὲ κρητῆρας
καὶ δέπα ἀμφικύπελλα τετυγμένα· ταὶ δὲ μεθʼ ὕδωρ
ἔρχεσθε κρήνηνδε, καὶ οἴσετε θᾶσσον ἰοῦσαι.
οὐ γὰρ δὴν μνηστῆρες ἀπέσσονται μεγάροιο,
ἀλλὰ μάλʼ ἦρι νέονται, ἐπεὶ καὶ πᾶσιν ἑορτή.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἄρα τῆς μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο.
αἱ μὲν ἐείκοσι βῆσαν ἐπὶ κρήνην μελάνυδρον,
αἱ δʼ αὐτοῦ κατὰ δώματʼ ἐπισταμένως πονέοντο.
ἐς δʼ ἦλθον δρηστῆρες Ἀχαιῶν. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα
εὖ καὶ ἐπισταμένως κέασαν ξύλα, ταὶ δὲ γυναῖκες
ἦλθον ἀπὸ κρήνης· ἐπὶ δέ σφισιν ἦλθε συβώτης
τρεῖς σιάλους κατάγων, οἳ ἔσαν μετὰ πᾶσιν ἄριστοι.
καὶ τοὺς μέν ῥʼ εἴασε καθʼ ἕρκεα καλὰ νέμεσθαι,
αὐτὸς δʼ αὖτʼ Ὀδυσῆα προσηύδα μειλιχίοισι·
ξεῖνʼ, ἦ ἄρ τί σε μᾶλλον Ἀχαιοὶ εἰσορόωσιν,
ἦέ σʼ ἀτιμάζουσι κατὰ μέγαρʼ, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ;
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολυμήτις Ὀδυσσεύς·
αἲ γὰρ δή, Εὔμαιε, θεοὶ τισαίατο λώβην,
ἣν οἵδʼ ὑβρίζοντες ἀτάσθαλα μηχανόωνται
οἴκῳ ἐν ἀλλοτρίῳ, οὐδʼ αἰδοῦς μοῖραν ἔχουσιν.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
ἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν.
αἶγας ἄγων αἳ πᾶσι μετέπρεπον αἰπολίοισι,
δεῖπνον μνηστήρεσσι. δύω δʼ ἅμʼ ἕποντο νομῆες.
καὶ τὰς μὲν κατέδησεν ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ ἐριδούπῳ,
αὐτὸς δʼ αὖτʼ Ὀδυσῆα προσηύδα κερτομίοισι·
ξεῖνʼ, ἔτι καὶ νῦν ἐνθάδʼ ἀνιήσεις κατὰ δῶμα
ἀνέρας αἰτίζων, ἀτὰρ οὐκ ἔξεισθα θύραζε;
πάντως οὐκέτι νῶϊ διακρινέεσθαι ὀΐω
πρὶν χειρῶν γεύσασθαι, ἐπεὶ σύ περ οὐ κατὰ κόσμον
αἰτίζεις· εἰσὶν δὲ καὶ ἄλλαι δαῖτες Ἀχαιῶν.
ὣς φάτο, τὸν δʼ οὔ τι προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἀλλʼ ἀκέων κίνησε κάρη, κακὰ βυσσοδομεύων.
τοῖσι δʼ ἐπὶ τρίτος ἦλθε Φιλοίτιος, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν,
βοῦν στεῖραν μνηστῆρσιν ἄγων καὶ πίονας αἶγας.
πορθμῆες δʼ ἄρα τούς γε διήγαγον, οἵ τε καὶ ἄλλους
ἀνθρώπους πέμπουσιν, ὅτις σφέας εἰσαφίκηται.
καὶ τὰ μὲν εὖ κατέδησεν ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ ἐριδούπῳ,
αὐτὸς δʼ αὖτʼ ἐρέεινε συβώτην ἄγχι παραστάς·
τίς δὴ ὅδε ξεῖνος νέον εἰλήλουθε, συβῶτα,
ἡμέτερον πρὸς δῶμα; τέων δʼ ἐξ εὔχεται εἶναι
ἀνδρῶν; ποῦ δέ νύ οἱ γενεὴ καὶ πατρὶς ἄρουρα;
δύσμορος, ἦ τε ἔοικε δέμας βασιλῆϊ ἄνακτι·
ἀλλὰ θεοὶ δυόωσι πολυπλάγκτους ἀνθρώπους,
ὁππότε καὶ βασιλεῦσιν ἐπικλώσωνται ὀϊζύν.
ἦ καὶ δεξιτερῇ δειδίσκετο χειρὶ παραστάς,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
χαῖρε, πάτερ ὦ ξεῖνε· γένοιτό τοι ἔς περ ὀπίσσω
ὄλβος· ἀτὰρ μὲν νῦν γε κακοῖς ἔχεαι πολέεσσι.
Ζεῦ πάτερ, οὔ τις σεῖο θεῶν ὀλοώτερος ἄλλος·
οὐκ ἐλεαίρεις ἄνδρας, ἐπὴν δὴ γείνεαι αὐτός,
μισγέμεναι κακότητι καὶ ἄλγεσι λευγαλέοισιν.
ἴδιον, ὡς ἐνόησα, δεδάκρυνται δέ μοι ὄσσε
μνησαμένῳ Ὀδυσῆος, ἐπεὶ καὶ κεῖνον ὀΐω
τοιάδε λαίφεʼ ἔχοντα κατʼ ἀνθρώπους ἀλάλησθαι,
εἴ που ἔτι ζώει καὶ ὁρᾷ φάος ἠελίοιο.
εἰ δʼ ἤδη τέθνηκε καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισιν,
ὤ μοι ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ὅς μʼ ἐπὶ βουσὶν
εἷσʼ ἔτι τυτθὸν ἐόντα Κεφαλλήνων ἐνὶ δήμῳ.
νῦν δʼ αἱ μὲν γίγνονται ἀθέσφατοι, οὐδέ κεν ἄλλως
ἀνδρί γʼ ὑποσταχύοιτο βοῶν γένος εὐρυμετώπων·
τὰς δʼ ἄλλοι με κέλονται ἀγινέμεναί σφισιν αὐτοῖς
ἔδμεναι· οὐδέ τι παιδὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροις ἀλέγουσιν,
οὐδʼ ὄπιδα τρομέουσι θεῶν· μεμάασι γὰρ ἤδη
κτήματα δάσσασθαι δὴν οἰχομένοιο ἄνακτος.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τόδε θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισι
πόλλʼ ἐπιδινεῖται· μάλα μὲν κακὸν υἷος ἐόντος
ἄλλων δῆμον ἱκέσθαι ἰόντʼ αὐτῇσι βόεσσιν,
ἄνδρας ἐς ἀλλοδαπούς· τὸ δὲ ῥίγιον, αὖθι μένοντα
βουσὶν ἐπʼ ἀλλοτρίῃσι καθήμενον ἄλγεα πάσχειν.
καί κεν δὴ πάλαι ἄλλον ὑπερμενέων βασιλήων
ἐξικόμην φεύγων, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτʼ ἀνεκτὰ πέλονται·
ἀλλʼ ἔτι τὸν δύστηνον ὀΐομαι, εἴ ποθεν ἐλθὼν
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων σκέδασιν κατὰ δώματα θείῃ.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
βουκόλʼ, ἐπεὶ οὔτε κακῷ οὔτʼ ἄφρονι φωτὶ ἔοικας,
γιγνώσκω δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ὅ τοι πινυτὴ φρένας ἵκει,
τοὔνεκά τοι ἐρέω καὶ ἐπὶ μέγαν ὅρκον ὀμοῦμαι·
ἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα θεῶν ξενίη τε τράπεζα
ἱστίη τʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ἣν ἀφικάνω,
ἦ σέθεν ἐνθάδʼ ἐόντος ἐλεύσεται οἴκαδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς·
σοῖσιν δʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἐπόψεαι, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα,
κτεινομένους μνηστῆρας, οἳ ἐνθάδε κοιρανέουσιν.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε βοῶν ἐπιβουκόλος ἀνήρ·
αἲ γὰρ τοῦτο, ξεῖνε, ἔπος τελέσειε Κρονίων·
γνοίης χʼ οἵη ἐμὴ δύναμις καὶ χεῖρες ἕπονται.
ὣς δʼ αὔτως Εὔμαιος ἐπεύξατο πᾶσι θεοῖσι
νοστῆσαι Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
μνηστῆρες δʼ ἄρα Τηλεμάχῳ θάνατόν τε μόρον τε
ἤρτυον· αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσιν ἀριστερὸς ἤλυθεν ὄρνις,
αἰετὸς ὑψιπέτης, ἔχε δὲ τρήρωνα πέλειαν.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀμφίνομος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐχ ἡμῖν συνθεύσεται ἥδε γε βουλή,
Τηλεμάχοιο φόνος· ἀλλὰ μνησώμεθα δαιτός.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀμφίνομος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.
ἐλθόντες δʼ ἐς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο
χλαίνας μὲν κατέθεντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε,
οἱ δʼ ἱέρευον ὄϊς μεγάλους καὶ πίονας αἶγας,
ἵρευον δὲ σύας σιάλους καὶ βοῦν ἀγελαίην·
σπλάγχνα δʼ ἄρʼ ὀπτήσαντες ἐνώμων, ἐν δέ τε οἶνον
κρητῆρσιν κερόωντο· κύπελλα δὲ νεῖμε συβώτης.
σῖτον δέ σφʼ ἐπένειμε Φιλοίτιος, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν,
καλοῖς ἐν κανέοισιν, ἐῳνοχόει δὲ Μελανθεύς.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ Ὀδυσῆα καθίδρυε, κέρδεα νωμῶν,
ἐντὸς ἐϋσταθέος μεγάρου, παρὰ λάϊνον οὐδόν,
δίφρον ἀεικέλιον καταθεὶς ὀλίγην τε τράπεζαν·
πὰρ δʼ ἐτίθει σπλάγχνων μοίρας, ἐν δʼ οἶνον ἔχευεν
ἐν δέπαϊ χρυσέῳ, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
ἐνταυθοῖ νῦν ἧσο μετʼ ἀνδράσιν οἰνοποτάζων·
κερτομίας δέ τοι αὐτὸς ἐγὼ καὶ χεῖρας ἀφέξω
πάντων μνηστήρων, ἐπεὶ οὔ τοι δήμιός ἐστιν
οἶκος ὅδʼ, ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσῆος, ἐμοὶ δʼ ἐκτήσατο κεῖνος.
ὑμεῖς δέ, μνηστῆρες, ἐπίσχετε θυμὸν ἐνιπῆς
καὶ χειρῶν, ἵνα μή τις ἔρις καὶ νεῖκος ὄρηται.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὀδὰξ ἐν χείλεσι φύντες
Τηλέμαχον θαύμαζον, ὃ θαρσαλέως ἀγόρευε.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·
καὶ χαλεπόν περ ἐόντα δεχώμεθα μῦθον, Ἀχαιοί,
Τηλεμάχου· μάλα δʼ ἧμιν ἀπειλήσας ἀγορεύει.
οὐ γὰρ Ζεὺς εἴασε Κρονίων· τῷ κέ μιν ἤδη
παύσαμεν ἐν μεγάροισι, λιγύν περ ἐόντʼ ἀγορητήν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀντίνοος· ὁ δʼ ἄρʼ οὐκ ἐμπάζετο μύθων.
κήρυκες δʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ θεῶν ἱερὴν ἑκατόμβην
ἦγον· τοὶ δʼ ἀγέροντο κάρη κομόωντες Ἀχαιοὶ
ἄλσος ὕπο σκιερὸν ἑκατηβόλου Ἀπόλλωνος.
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ὤπτησαν κρέʼ ὑπέρτερα καὶ ἐρύσαντο,
μοίρας δασσάμενοι δαίνυντʼ ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα·
πὰρ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆϊ μοῖραν θέσαν οἳ πονέοντο
ἴσην, ὡς αὐτοί περ ἐλάγχανον· ὣς γὰρ ἀνώγει
Τηλέμαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.
μνηστῆρας δʼ οὐ πάμπαν ἀγήνορας εἴα Ἀθήνη
λώβης ἴσχεσθαι θυμαλγέος, ὄφρʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον
δύη ἄχος κραδίην Λαερτιάδην Ὀδυσῆα.
ἦν δέ τις ἐν μνηστῆρσιν ἀνὴρ ἀθεμίστια εἰδώς,
Κτήσιππος δʼ ὄνομʼ ἔσκε, Σάμῃ δʼ ἐνὶ οἰκία ναῖεν·
ὃς δή τοι κτεάτεσσι πεποιθὼς θεσπεσίοισι
μνάσκετʼ Ὀδυσσῆος δὴν οἰχομένοιο δάμαρτα.
ὅς ῥα τότε μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι μετηύδα·
κέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες, ὄφρα τι εἴπω·
μοῖραν μὲν δὴ ξεῖνος ἔχει πάλαι, ὡς ἐπέοικεν,
ἴσην· οὐ γὰρ καλὸν ἀτέμβειν οὐδὲ δίκαιον
ξείνους Τηλεμάχου, ὅς κεν τάδε δώμαθʼ ἵκηται.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ καὶ ἐγὼ δῶ ξείνιον, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτὸς
ἠὲ λοετροχόῳ δώῃ γέρας ἠέ τῳ ἄλλῳ
δμώων, οἳ κατὰ δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἔρριψε βοὸς πόδα χειρὶ παχείῃ.
κείμενον ἐκ κανέοιο λαβών· ὁ δʼ ἀλεύατʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἦκα παρακλίνας κεφαλήν, μείδησε δὲ θυμῷ
σαρδάνιον μάλα τοῖον· ὁ δʼ εὔδμητον βάλε τοῖχον.
Κτήσιππον δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος ἠνίπαπε μύθῳ·
Κτήσιππʼ, ἦ μάλα τοι τόδε κέρδιον ἔπλετο θυμῷ·
οὐκ ἔβαλες τὸν ξεῖνον· ἀλεύατο γὰρ βέλος αὐτός.
ἦ γάρ κέν σε μέσον βάλον ἔγχεϊ ὀξυόεντι,
καί κέ τοι ἀντὶ γάμοιο πατὴρ τάφον ἀμφεπονεῖτο
ἐνθάδε. τῷ μή τίς μοι ἀεικείας ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
φαινέτω· ἤδη γὰρ νοέω καὶ οἶδα ἕκαστα,
ἐσθλά τε καὶ τὰ χέρηα· πάρος δʼ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα.
ἀλλʼ ἔμπης τάδε μὲν καὶ τέτλαμεν εἰσορόωντες,
μήλων σφαζομένων οἴνοιό τε πινομένοιο
καὶ σίτου· χαλεπὸν γὰρ ἐρυκακέειν ἕνα πολλούς.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μηκέτι μοι κακὰ ῥέζετε δυσμενέοντες·
εἰ δʼ ἤδη μʼ αὐτὸν κτεῖναι μενεαίνετε χαλκῷ,
καί κε τὸ βουλοίμην, καί κεν πολὺ κέρδιον εἴη
τεθνάμεν ἢ τάδε γʼ αἰὲν ἀεικέα ἔργʼ ὁράασθαι,
ξείνους τε στυφελιζομένους δμῳάς τε γυναῖκας
ῥυστάζοντας ἀεικελίως κατὰ δώματα καλά.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ·
ὀψὲ δὲ δὴ μετέειπε Δαμαστορίδης Ἀγέλαος·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐκ ἂν δή τις ἐπὶ ῥηθέντι δικαίῳ
ἀντιβίοις ἐπέεσσι καθαπτόμενος χαλεπαίνοι·
μήτε τι τὸν ξεῖνον στυφελίζετε μήτε τινʼ ἄλλον
δμώων, οἳ κατὰ δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο.
Τηλεμάχῳ δέ κε μῦθον ἐγὼ καὶ μητέρι φαίην
ἤπιον, εἴ σφωϊν κραδίῃ ἅδοι ἀμφοτέροιϊν.
ὄφρα μὲν ὑμῖν θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐώλπει
νοστήσειν Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε,
τόφρʼ οὔ τις νέμεσις μενέμεν τʼ ἦν ἰσχέμεναί τε
μνηστῆρας κατὰ δώματʼ, ἐπεὶ τόδε κέρδιον ἦεν,
εἰ νόστησʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ ὑπότροπος ἵκετο δῶμα·
νῦν δʼ ἤδη τόδε δῆλον, ὅ τʼ οὐκέτι νόστιμός ἐστιν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε, σῇ τάδε μητρὶ παρεζόμενος κατάλεξον,
γήμασθʼ ὅς τις ἄριστος ἀνὴρ καὶ πλεῖστα πόρῃσιν,
ὄφρα σὺ μὲν χαίρων πατρώϊα πάντα νέμηαι,
ἔσθων καὶ πίνων, ἡ δʼ ἄλλου δῶμα κομίζῃ.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
οὐ μὰ Ζῆνʼ, Ἀγέλαε, καὶ ἄλγεα πατρὸς ἐμοῖο,
ὅς που τῆλʼ Ἰθάκης ἢ ἔφθιται ἢ ἀλάληται,
οὔ τι διατρίβω μητρὸς γάμον, ἀλλὰ κελεύω
γήμασθʼ ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλῃ, ποτὶ δʼ ἄσπετα δῶρα δίδωμι.
αἰδέομαι δʼ ἀέκουσαν ἀπὸ μεγάροιο δίεσθαι
μύθῳ ἀναγκαίῳ· μὴ τοῦτο θεὸς τελέσειεν.
ὣς φάτο Τηλέμαχος· μνηστῆρσι δὲ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
ἄσβεστον γέλω ὦρσε, παρέπλαγξεν δὲ νόημα.
οἱ δʼ ἤδη γναθμοῖσι γελοίων ἀλλοτρίοισιν,
αἱμοφόρυκτα δὲ δὴ κρέα ἤσθιον· ὄσσε δʼ ἄρα σφέων
δακρυόφιν πίμπλαντο, γόον δʼ ὠΐετο θυμός.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε Θεοκλύμενος θεοειδής·
ἆ δειλοί, τί κακὸν τόδε πάσχετε; νυκτὶ μὲν ὑμέων
εἰλύαται κεφαλαί τε πρόσωπά τε νέρθε τε γοῦνα.
οἰμωγὴ δὲ δέδηε, δεδάκρυνται δὲ παρειαί,
αἵματι δʼ ἐρράδαται τοῖχοι καλαί τε μεσόδμαι·
εἰδώλων δὲ πλέον πρόθυρον, πλείη δὲ καὶ αὐλή,
ἱεμένων Ἔρεβόσδε ὑπὸ ζόφον· ἠέλιος δὲ
οὐρανοῦ ἐξαπόλωλε, κακὴ δʼ ἐπιδέδρομεν ἀχλύς.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπʼ αὐτῷ ἡδὺ γέλασσαν.
τοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρύμαχος, Πολύβου πάϊς, ἦρχʼ ἀγορεύειν·
ἀφραίνει ξεῖνος νέον ἄλλοθεν εἰληλουθώς.
ἀλλά μιν αἶψα, νέοι, δόμου ἐκπέμψασθε θύραζε
εἰς ἀγορὴν ἔρχεσθαι, ἐπεὶ τάδε νυκτὶ ἐΐσκει.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Θεοκλύμενος θεοειδής·
Εὐρύμαχʼ, οὔ τί σʼ ἄνωγα ἐμοὶ πομπῆας ὀπάζειν·
εἰσί μοι ὀφθαλμοί τε καὶ οὔατα καὶ πόδες ἄμφω
καὶ νόος ἐν στήθεσσι τετυγμένος οὐδὲν ἀεικής.
τοῖς ἔξειμι θύραζε, ἐπεὶ νοέω κακὸν ὔμμιν
ἐρχόμενον, τό κεν οὔ τις ὑπεκφύγοι οὐδʼ ἀλέαιτο
μνηστήρων, οἳ δῶμα κάτʼ ἀντιθέου Ὀδυσῆος
ἀνέρας ὑβρίζοντες ἀτάσθαλα μηχανάασθε.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἐξῆλθε δόμων εὖ ναιεταόντων,
ἵκετο δʼ ἐς Πείραιον, ὅ μιν πρόφρων ὑπέδεκτο.
μνηστῆρες δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐς ἀλλήλους ὁρόωντες
Τηλέμαχον ἐρέθιζον, ἐπὶ ξείνοις γελόωντες·
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·
Τηλέμαχʼ, οὔ τις σεῖο κακοξεινώτερος ἄλλος·
οἷον μέν τινα τοῦτον ἔχεις ἐπίμαστον ἀλήτην,
σίτου καὶ οἴνου κεχρημένον, οὐδέ τι ἔργων
ἔμπαιον οὐδὲ βίης, ἀλλʼ αὔτως ἄχθος ἀρούρης.
ἄλλος δʼ αὖτέ τις οὗτος ἀνέστη μαντεύεσθαι.
ἀλλʼ εἴ μοί τι πίθοιο, τό κεν πολὺ κέρδιον εἴη·
τοὺς ξείνους ἐν νηῒ πολυκληῗδι βαλόντες
ἐς Σικελοὺς πέμψωμεν, ὅθεν κέ τοι ἄξιον ἄλφοι.
ὣς ἔφασαν μνηστῆρες· ὁ δʼ οὐκ ἐμπάζετο μύθων,
ἀλλʼ ἀκέων πατέρα προσεδέρκετο, δέγμενος αἰεί,
ὁππότε δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσει.
ἡ δὲ κατʼ ἄντηστιν θεμένη περικαλλέα δίφρον
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
ἀνδρῶν ἐν μεγάροισιν ἑκάστου μῦθον ἄκουεν.
δεῖπνον μὲν γάρ τοί γε γελοίωντες τετύκοντο
ἡδὺ τε καὶ μενοεικές, ἐπεὶ μάλα πόλλʼ ἱέρευσαν·
δόρπου δʼ οὐκ ἄν πως ἀχαρίστερον ἄλλο γένοιτο,
οἷον δὴ τάχʼ ἔμελλε θεὰ καὶ καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ
θησέμεναι· πρότεροι γὰρ ἀεικέα μηχανόωντο.

### Book 21

τῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
κούρῃ Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,
τόξον μνηστήρεσσι θέμεν πολιόν τε σίδηρον
ἐν μεγάροις Ὀδυσῆος, ἀέθλια καὶ φόνου ἀρχήν.
κλίμακα δʼ ὑψηλὴν προσεβήσετο οἷο δόμοιο,
εἵλετο δὲ κληῗδʼ εὐκαμπέα χειρὶ παχείῃ
καλὴν χαλκείην· κώπη δʼ ἐλέφαντος ἐπῆεν.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεναι θάλαμόνδε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν
ἔσχατον· ἔνθα δέ οἱ κειμήλια κεῖτο ἄνακτος,
χαλκός τε χρυσός τε πολύκμητός τε σίδηρος.
ἔνθα δὲ τόξον κεῖτο παλίντονον ἠδὲ φαρέτρη
ἰοδόκος, πολλοὶ δʼ ἔνεσαν στονόεντες ὀϊστοί,
δῶρα τά οἱ ξεῖνος Λακεδαίμονι δῶκε τυχήσας
Ἴφιτος Εὐρυτίδης, ἐπιείκελος ἀθανάτοισι.
τὼ δʼ ἐν Μεσσήνῃ ξυμβλήτην ἀλλήλοιϊν
οἴκῳ ἐν Ὀρτιλόχοιο δαΐφρονος. ἦ τοι Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἦλθε μετὰ χρεῖος, τό ῥά οἱ πᾶς δῆμος ὄφελλε·
μῆλα γὰρ ἐξ Ἰθάκης Μεσσήνιοι ἄνδρες ἄειραν
νηυσὶ πολυκλήϊσι τριηκόσιʼ ἠδὲ νομῆας.
τῶν ἕνεκʼ ἐξεσίην πολλὴν ὁδὸν ἦλθεν Ὀδυσσεὺς
παιδνὸς ἐών· πρὸ γὰρ ἧκε πατὴρ ἄλλοι τε γέροντες.
Ἴφιτος αὖθʼ ἵππους διζήμενος, αἵ οἱ ὄλοντο
δώδεκα θήλειαι, ὑπὸ δʼ ἡμίονοι ταλαεργοί·
αἳ δή οἱ καὶ ἔπειτα φόνος καὶ μοῖρα γένοντο,
ἐπεὶ δὴ Διὸς υἱὸν ἀφίκετο καρτερόθυμον,
φῶθʼ Ἡρακλῆα, μεγάλων ἐπιίστορα ἔργων,
ὅς μιν ξεῖνον ἐόντα κατέκτανεν ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
σχέτλιος, οὐδὲ θεῶν ὄπιν ᾐδέσατʼ οὐδὲ τράπεζαν,
τὴν ἥν οἱ παρέθηκεν· ἔπειτα δὲ πέφνε καὶ αὐτόν,
ἵππους δʼ αὐτὸς ἔχε κρατερώνυχας ἐν μεγάροισι.
τὰς ἐρέων Ὀδυσῆϊ συνήντετο, δῶκε δὲ τόξον,
τὸ πρὶν μέν ῥʼ ἐφόρει μέγας Εὔρυτος, αὐτὰρ ὁ παιδὶ
κάλλιπʼ ἀποθνῄσκων ἐν δώμασιν ὑψηλοῖσι.
τῷ δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ξίφος ὀξὺ καὶ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος ἔδωκεν,
ἀρχὴν ξεινοσύνης προσκηδέος· οὐδὲ τραπέζῃ
γνώτην ἀλλήλων· πρὶν γὰρ Διὸς υἱὸς ἔπεφνεν
Ἴφιτον Εὐρυτίδην, ἐπιείκελον ἀθανάτοισιν,
ὅς οἱ τόξον ἔδωκε. τὸ δʼ οὔ ποτε δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἐρχόμενος πόλεμόνδε μελαινάων ἐπὶ νηῶν
ᾑρεῖτʼ, ἀλλʼ αὐτοῦ μνῆμα ξείνοιο φίλοιο
κέσκετʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι, φόρει δέ μιν ἧς ἐπὶ γαίης.
ἡ δʼ ὅτε δὴ θάλαμον τὸν ἀφίκετο δῖα γυναικῶν
οὐδόν τε δρύϊνον προσεβήσετο, τόν ποτε τέκτων
ξέσσεν ἐπισταμένως καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνεν,
ἐν δὲ σταθμοὺς ἄρσε, θύρας δʼ ἐπέθηκε φαεινάς,
αὐτίκʼ ἄρʼ ἥ γʼ ἱμάντα θοῶς ἀπέλυσε κορώνης,
ἐν δὲ κληῗδʼ ἧκε, θυρέων δʼ ἀνέκοπτεν ὀχῆας
ἄντα τιτυσκομένη· τὰ δʼ ἀνέβραχεν ἠΰτε ταῦρος
βοσκόμενος λειμῶνι· τόσʼ ἔβραχε καλὰ θύρετρα
πληγέντα κληΐδι, πετάσθησαν δέ οἱ ὦκα.
ἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐφʼ ὑψηλῆς σανίδος βῆ· ἔνθα δὲ χηλοὶ
ἕστασαν, ἐν δʼ ἄρα τῇσι θυώδεα εἵματʼ ἔκειτο.
ἔνθεν ὀρεξαμένη ἀπὸ πασσάλου αἴνυτο τόξον
αὐτῷ γωρυτῷ, ὅς οἱ περίκειτο φαεινός.
ἑζομένη δὲ κατʼ αὖθι, φίλοις ἐπὶ γούνασι θεῖσα,
κλαῖε μάλα λιγέως, ἐκ δʼ ᾕρεε τόξον ἄνακτος.
ἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν τάρφθη πολυδακρύτοιο γόοιο,
βῆ ῥʼ ἴμεναι μέγαρόνδε μετὰ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυοὺς
τόξον ἔχουσʼ ἐν χειρὶ παλίντονον ἠδὲ φαρέτρην
ἰοδόκον· πολλοὶ δʼ ἔνεσαν στονόεντες ὀϊστοί.
τῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἅμʼ ἀμφίπολοι φέρον ὄγκιον, ἔνθα σίδηρος
κεῖτο πολὺς καὶ χαλκός, ἀέθλια τοῖο ἄνακτος.
ἡ δʼ ὅτε δὴ μνηστῆρας ἀφίκετο δῖα γυναικῶν,
στῆ ῥα παρὰ σταθμὸν τέγεος πύκα ποιητοῖο,
ἄντα παρειάων σχομένη λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα.
ἀμφίπολος δʼ ἄρα οἱ κεδνὴ ἑκάτερθε παρέστη.
αὐτίκα δὲ μνηστῆρσι μετηύδα καὶ φάτο μῦθον·
κέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγήνορες, οἳ τόδε δῶμα
ἐχράετʼ ἐσθιέμεν καὶ πινέμεν ἐμμενὲς αἰεὶ
ἀνδρὸς ἀποιχομένοιο πολὺν χρόνον· οὐδέ τινʼ ἄλλην
μύθου ποιήσασθαι ἐπισχεσίην ἐδύνασθε,
ἀλλʼ ἐμὲ ἱέμενοι γῆμαι θέσθαι τε γυναῖκα.
ἀλλʼ ἄγετε, μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ τόδε φαίνετʼ ἄεθλον.
θήσω γὰρ μέγα τόξον Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο·
ὃς δέ κε ῥηΐτατʼ ἐντανύσῃ βιὸν ἐν παλάμῃσι
καὶ διοϊστεύσῃ πελέκεων δυοκαίδεκα πάντων,
τῷ κεν ἅμʼ ἑσποίμην, νοσφισσαμένη τόδε δῶμα
κουρίδιον, μάλα καλόν, ἐνίπλειον βιότοιο,
τοῦ ποτὲ μεμνήσεσθαι ὀΐομαι ἔν περ ὀνείρῳ.
ὣς φάτο, καί ῥʼ Εὔμαιον ἀνώγει, δῖον ὑφορβόν,
τόξον μνηστήρεσσι θέμεν πολιόν τε σίδηρον.
δακρύσας δʼ Εὔμαιος ἐδέξατο καὶ κατέθηκε·
κλαῖε δὲ βουκόλος ἄλλοθʼ, ἐπεὶ ἴδε τόξον ἄνακτος.
Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
νήπιοι ἀγροιῶται, ἐφημέρια φρονέοντες,
ἆ δειλώ, τί νυ δάκρυ κατείβετον ἠδὲ γυναικὶ
θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ὀρίνετον; ᾗ τε καὶ ἄλλως
κεῖται ἐν ἄλγεσι θυμός, ἐπεὶ φίλον ὤλεσʼ ἀκοίτην.
ἀλλʼ ἀκέων δαίνυσθε καθήμενοι, ἠὲ θύραζε
κλαίετον ἐξελθόντε, κατʼ αὐτόθι τόξα λιπόντε,
μνηστήρεσσιν ἄεθλον ἀάατον· οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω
ῥηϊδίως τόδε τόξον ἐΰξοον ἐντανύεσθαι.
οὐ γάρ τις μέτα τοῖος ἀνὴρ ἐν τοίσδεσι πᾶσιν
οἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκεν· ἐγὼ δέ μιν αὐτὸς ὄπωπα,
καὶ γὰρ μνήμων εἰμί, πάϊς δʼ ἔτι νήπιος ἦα.
ὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἄρα θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐώλπει
νευρὴν ἐντανύσειν διοϊστεύσειν τε σιδήρου.
ἦ τοι ὀϊστοῦ γε πρῶτος γεύσεσθαι ἔμελλεν
ἐκ χειρῶν Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ὃν τότʼ ἀτίμα
ἥμενος ἐν μεγάροις, ἐπὶ δʼ ὤρνυε πάντας ἑταίρους.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειφʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα με Ζεὺς ἄφρονα θῆκε Κρονίων·
μήτηρ μέν μοί φησι φίλη, πινυτή περ ἐοῦσα,
ἄλλῳ ἅμʼ ἕψεσθαι νοσφισσαμένη τόδε δῶμα·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ γελόω καὶ τέρπομαι ἄφρονι θυμῷ.
ἀλλʼ ἄγετε, μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ τόδε φαίνετʼ ἄεθλον,
οἵη νῦν οὐκ ἔστι γυνὴ κατʼ Ἀχαιΐδα γαῖαν,
οὔτε Πύλου ἱερῆς οὔτʼ Ἄργεος οὔτε Μυκήνης·
οὔτʼ αὐτῆς Ἰθάκης οὔτʼ ἠπείροιο μελαίνης·
καὶ δʼ αὐτοὶ τόδε γʼ ἴστε· τί με χρὴ μητέρος αἴνου;
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μὴ μύνῃσι παρέλκετε μηδʼ ἔτι τόξου
δηρὸν ἀποτρωπᾶσθε τανυστύος, ὄφρα ἴδωμεν.
καὶ δέ κεν αὐτὸς ἐγὼ τοῦ τόξου πειρησαίμην·
εἰ δέ κεν ἐντανύσω διοϊστεύσω τε σιδήρου,
οὔ κέ μοι ἀχνυμένῳ τάδε δώματα πότνια μήτηρ
λείποι ἅμʼ ἄλλῳ ἰοῦσʼ, ὅτʼ ἐγὼ κατόπισθε λιποίμην
οἷός τʼ ἤδη πατρὸς ἀέθλια κάλʼ ἀνελέσθαι.
ἦ καὶ ἀπʼ ὤμοιϊν χλαῖναν θέτο φοινικόεσσαν
ὀρθὸς ἀναΐξας, ἀπὸ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτʼ ὤμων.
πρῶτον μὲν πελέκεας στῆσεν, διὰ τάφρον ὀρύξας
πᾶσι μίαν μακρήν, καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνεν,
ἀμφὶ δὲ γαῖαν ἔναξε· τάφος δʼ ἕλε πάντας ἰδόντας,
ὡς εὐκόσμως στῆσε· πάρος δʼ οὐ πώ ποτʼ ὀπώπει.
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰὼν καὶ τόξου πειρήτιζε.
τρὶς μέν μιν πελέμιξεν ἐρύσσεσθαι μενεαίνων,
τρὶς δὲ μεθῆκε βίης, ἐπιελπόμενος τό γε θυμῷ,
νευρὴν ἐντανύειν διοϊστεύσειν τε σιδήρου.
καί νύ κε δή ῥʼ ἐτάνυσσε βίῃ τὸ τέταρτον ἀνέλκων,
ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἀνένευε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱέμενόν περ.
τοῖς δʼ αὖτις μετέειφʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ καὶ ἔπειτα κακός τʼ ἔσομαι καὶ ἄκικυς,
ἠὲ νεώτερός εἰμι καὶ οὔ πω χερσὶ πέποιθα
ἄνδρʼ ἀπαμύνασθαι, ὅτε τις πρότερος χαλεπήνῃ.
ἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ, οἵ περ ἐμεῖο βίῃ προφερέστεροί ἐστε,
τόξου πειρήσασθε, καὶ ἐκτελέωμεν ἄεθλον.
ὣς εἰπὼν τόξον μὲν ἀπὸ ἕο θῆκε χαμᾶζε,
κλίνας κολλητῇσιν ἐϋξέστῃς σανίδεσσιν,
αὐτοῦ δʼ ὠκὺ βέλος καλῇ προσέκλινε κορώνῃ,
ἂψ δʼ αὖτις κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·
ὄρνυσθʼ ἑξείης ἐπιδέξια πάντες ἑταῖροι,
ἀρξάμενοι τοῦ χώρου ὅθεν τέ περ οἰνοχοεύει.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀντίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.
Λειώδης δὲ πρῶτος ἀνίστατο, Οἴνοπος υἱός,
ὅ σφι θυοσκόος ἔσκε, παρὰ κρητῆρα δὲ καλὸν
ἷζε μυχοίτατος αἰέν· ἀτασθαλίαι δέ οἱ οἴῳ
ἐχθραὶ ἔσαν, πᾶσιν δὲ νεμέσσα μνηστήρεσσιν·
ὅς ῥα τότε πρῶτος τόξον λάβε καὶ βέλος ὠκύ.
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰὼν καὶ τόξου πειρήτιζεν,
οὐδέ μιν ἐντάνυσε· πρὶν γὰρ κάμε χεῖρας ἀνέλκων
ἀτρίπτους ἁπαλάς· μετὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσιν ἔειπεν·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐ μὲν ἐγὼ τανύω, λαβέτω δὲ καὶ ἄλλος.
πολλοὺς γὰρ τόδε τόξον ἀριστῆας κεκαδήσει
θυμοῦ καὶ ψυχῆς, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτερόν ἐστι
τεθνάμεν ἢ ζώοντας ἁμαρτεῖν, οὗθʼ ἕνεκʼ αἰεὶ
ἐνθάδʼ ὁμιλέομεν, ποτιδέγμενοι ἤματα πάντα.
νῦν μέν τις καὶ ἔλπετʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἠδὲ μενοινᾷ
γῆμαι Πηνελόπειαν, Ὀδυσσῆος παράκοιτιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν τόξου πειρήσεται ἠδὲ ἴδηται,
ἄλλην δή τινʼ ἔπειτα Ἀχαιϊάδων εὐπέπλων
μνάσθω ἐέδνοισιν διζήμενος· ἡ δέ κʼ ἔπειτα
γήμαιθʼ ὅς κε πλεῖστα πόροι καὶ μόρσιμος ἔλθοι.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν καὶ ἀπὸ ἕο τόξον ἔθηκε,
κλίνας κολλητῇσιν ἐϋξέστῃς σανίδεσσιν,
αὐτοῦ δʼ ὠκὺ βέλος καλῇ προσέκλινε κορώνῃ,
ἂψ δʼ αὖτις κατʼ ἄρ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη.
Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
Λειῶδες, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων,
δεινόν τʼ ἀργαλέον τε, —νεμεσσῶμαι δέ τʼ ἀκούων—
εἰ δὴ τοῦτό γε τόξον ἀριστῆας κεκαδήσει
θυμοῦ καὶ ψυχῆς, ἐπεὶ οὐ δύνασαι σὺ τανύσσαι.
οὐ γάρ τοί σέ γε τοῖον ἐγείνατο πότνια μήτηρ
οἷόν τε ῥυτῆρα βιοῦ τʼ ἔμεναι καὶ ὀϊστῶν·
ἀλλʼ ἄλλοι τανύουσι τάχα μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοί.
ὣς φάτο, καί ῥʼ ἐκέλευσε Μελάνθιον, αἰπόλον αἰγῶν·
ἄγρει δή, πῦρ κῆον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι, Μελανθεῦ,
πὰρ δὲ τίθει δίφρον τε μέγαν καὶ κῶας ἐπʼ αὐτοῦ,
ἐκ δὲ στέατος ἔνεικε μέγαν τροχὸν ἔνδον ἐόντος,
ὄφρα νέοι θάλποντες, ἐπιχρίοντες ἀλοιφῇ,
τόξου πειρώμεσθα καὶ ἐκτελέωμεν ἄεθλον.
ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αἶψʼ ἀνέκαιε Μελάνθιος ἀκάματον πῦρ,
πὰρ δὲ φέρων δίφρον θῆκεν καὶ κῶας ἐπʼ αὐτοῦ,
ἐκ δὲ στέατος ἔνεικε μέγαν τροχὸν ἔνδον ἐόντος·
τῷ ῥα νέοι θάλποντες ἐπειρῶντʼ· οὐδʼ ἐδύναντο
ἐντανύσαι, πολλὸν δὲ βίης ἐπιδευέες ἦσαν.
Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἔτʼ ἐπεῖχε καὶ Εὐρύμαχος θεοειδής,
ἀρχοὶ μνηστήρων· ἀρετῇ δʼ ἔσαν ἔξοχʼ ἄριστοι.
τὼ δʼ ἐξ οἴκου βῆσαν ὁμαρτήσαντες ἅμʼ ἄμφω
βουκόλος ἠδὲ συφορβὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο·
ἐκ δʼ αὐτὸς μετὰ τοὺς δόμου ἤλυθε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἐκτὸς θυρέων ἔσαν ἠδὲ καὶ αὐλῆς,
φθεγξάμενός σφε ἔπεσσι προσηύδα μειλιχίοισι·
βουκόλε καὶ σύ, συφορβέ, ἔπος τί κε μυθησαίμην,
ἦ αὐτὸς κεύθω; φάσθαι δέ με θυμὸς ἀνώγει.
ποῖοί κʼ εἶτʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ ἀμυνέμεν, εἴ ποθεν ἔλθοι
ὧδε μάλʼ ἐξαπίνης καί τις θεὸς αὐτὸν ἐνείκαι;
ἤ κε μνηστήρεσσιν ἀμύνοιτʼ ἦ Ὀδυσῆϊ;
εἴπαθʼ ὅπως ὑμέας κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε βοῶν ἐπιβουκόλος ἀνήρ·
Ζεῦ πάτερ, αἲ γὰρ τοῦτο τελευτήσειας ἐέλδωρ,
ὡς ἔλθοι μὲν κεῖνος ἀνήρ, ἀγάγοι δέ ἑ δαίμων·
γνοίης χʼ οἵη ἐμὴ δύναμις καὶ χεῖρες ἕπονται.
ὣς δʼ αὔτως Εὔμαιος ἐπεύχετο πᾶσι θεοῖσι
νοστῆσαι Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τῶν γε νόον νημερτέʼ ἀνέγνω,
ἐξαῦτίς σφε ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
ἔνδον μὲν δὴ ὅδʼ αὐτὸς ἐγώ, κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας
ἤλυθον εἰκοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
γιγνώσκω δʼ ὡς σφῶϊν ἐελδομένοισιν ἱκάνω
οἴοισι δμώων· τῶν δʼ ἄλλων οὔ τευ ἄκουσα
εὐξαμένου ἐμὲ αὖτις ὑπότροπον οἴκαδʼ ἱκέσθαι.
σφῶϊν δʼ, ὡς ἔσεταί περ, ἀληθείην καταλέξω.
εἴ χʼ ὑπʼ ἐμοί γε θεὸς δαμάσῃ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,
ἄξομαι ἀμφοτέροις ἀλόχους καὶ κτήματʼ ὀπάσσω
οἰκία τʼ ἐγγὺς ἐμεῖο τετυγμένα· καί μοι ἔπειτα
Τηλεμάχου ἑτάρω τε κασιγνήτω τε ἔσεσθον.
εἰ δʼ ἄγε δή, καὶ σῆμα ἀριφραδὲς ἄλλο τι δείξω,
ὄφρα μʼ ἐῢ γνῶτον πιστωθῆτόν τʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,
οὐλήν, τήν ποτέ με σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι
Παρνησόνδʼ ἐλθόντα σὺν υἱάσιν Αὐτολύκοιο.
ὣς εἰπὼν ῥάκεα μεγάλης ἀποέργαθεν οὐλῆς.
τὼ δʼ ἐπεὶ εἰσιδέτην εὖ τʼ ἐφράσσαντο ἕκαστα,
κλαῖον ἄρʼ ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ δαΐφρονι χεῖρε βαλόντε,
καὶ κύνεον ἀγαπαζόμενοι κεφαλήν τε καὶ ὤμους
ὣς δʼ αὔτως Ὀδυσεὺς κεφαλὰς καὶ χεῖρας ἔκυσσε.
καί νύ κʼ ὀδυρομένοισιν ἔδυ φάος ἠελίοιο,
εἰ μὴ Ὀδυσσεὺς αὐτὸς ἐρύκακε φώνησέν τε·
παύεσθον κλαυθμοῖο γόοιό τε, μή τις ἴδηται
ἐξελθὼν μεγάροιο, ἀτὰρ εἴπῃσι καὶ εἴσω.
ἀλλὰ προμνηστῖνοι ἐσέλθετε, μηδʼ ἅμα πάντες,
πρῶτος ἐγώ, μετὰ δʼ ὔμμες· ἀτὰρ τόδε σῆμα τετύχθω·
ἄλλοι μὲν γὰρ πάντες, ὅσοι μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοί,
οὐκ ἐάσουσιν ἐμοὶ δόμεναι βιὸν ἠδὲ φαρέτρην·
ἀλλὰ σύ, δῖʼ Εὔμαιε, φέρων ἀνὰ δώματα τόξον
ἐν χείρεσσιν ἐμοὶ θέμεναι, εἰπεῖν τε γυναιξὶ
κληῗσαι μεγάροιο θύρας πυκινῶς ἀραρυίας,
ἢν δέ τις ἢ στοναχῆς ἠὲ κτύπου ἔνδον ἀκούσῃ
ἀνδρῶν ἡμετέροισιν ἐν ἕρκεσι, μή τι θύραζε
προβλώσκειν, ἀλλʼ αὐτοῦ ἀκὴν ἔμεναι παρὰ ἔργῳ.
σοὶ δέ, Φιλοίτιε δῖε, θύρας ἐπιτέλλομαι αὐλῆς
κληῗσαι κληῗδι, θοῶς δʼ ἐπὶ δεσμὸν ἰῆλαι.
ὣς εἰπὼν εἰσῆλθε δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας·
ἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ δίφρον ἰών, ἔνθεν περ ἀνέστη·
ἐς δʼ ἄρα καὶ τὼ δμῶε ἴτην θείου Ὀδυσῆος.
Εὐρύμαχος δʼ ἤδη τόξον μετὰ χερσὶν ἐνώμα,
θάλπων ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα σέλᾳ πυρός· ἀλλά μιν οὐδʼ ὣς
ἐντανύσαι δύνατο, μέγα δʼ ἔστενε κυδάλιμον κῆρ·
ὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μοι ἄχος περί τʼ αὐτοῦ καὶ περὶ πάντων·
οὔ τι γάμου τοσσοῦτον ὀδύρομαι, ἀχνύμενός περ·
εἰσὶ καὶ ἄλλαι πολλαὶ Ἀχαιΐδες, αἱ μὲν ἐν αὐτῇ
ἀμφιάλῳ Ἰθάκῃ, αἱ δʼ ἄλλῃσιν πολίεσσιν·
ἀλλʼ εἰ δὴ τοσσόνδε βίης ἐπιδευέες εἰμὲν
ἀντιθέου Ὀδυσῆος, ὅ τʼ οὐ δυνάμεσθα τανύσσαι
τόξον· ἐλεγχείη δὲ καὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·
Εὐρύμαχʼ, οὐχ οὕτως ἔσται· νοέεις δὲ καὶ αὐτός.
νῦν μὲν γὰρ κατὰ δῆμον ἑορτὴ τοῖο θεοῖο
ἁγνή· τίς δέ κε τόξα τιταίνοιτʼ; ἀλλὰ ἕκηλοι
κάτθετʼ· ἀτὰρ πελέκεάς γε καὶ εἴ κʼ εἰῶμεν ἅπαντας
ἑστάμεν· οὐ μὲν γάρ τινʼ ἀναιρήσεσθαι ὀΐω,
ἐλθόντʼ ἐς μέγαρον Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος.
ἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ, οἰνοχόος μὲν ἐπαρξάσθω δεπάεσσιν,
ὄφρα σπείσαντες καταθείομεν ἀγκύλα τόξα·
ἠῶθεν δὲ κέλεσθε Μελάνθιον, αἰπόλον αἰγῶν,
αἶγας ἄγειν, αἳ πᾶσι μέγʼ ἔξοχοι αἰπολίοισιν,
ὄφρʼ ἐπὶ μηρία θέντες Ἀπόλλωνι κλυτοτόξῳ
τόξου πειρώμεσθα καὶ ἐκτελέωμεν ἄεθλον.
ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀντίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.
τοῖσι δὲ κήρυκες μὲν ὕδωρ ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἔχευαν,
κοῦροι δὲ κρητῆρας ἐπεστέψαντο ποτοῖο,
νώμησαν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπαρξάμενοι δεπάεσσιν.
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν σπεῖσάν τʼ ἔπιόν θʼ ὅσον ἤθελε θυμός,
τοῖς δὲ δολοφρονέων μετέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
κέκλυτέ μευ, μνηστῆρες ἀγακλειτῆς βασιλείης·
ὄφρʼ εἴπω τά με θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι κελεύει·
Εὐρύμαχον δὲ μάλιστα καὶ Ἀντίνοον θεοειδέα
λίσσομʼ, ἐπεὶ καὶ τοῦτο ἔπος κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπε,
νῦν μὲν παῦσαι τόξον, ἐπιτρέψαι δὲ θεοῖσιν·
ἠῶθεν δὲ θεὸς δώσει κράτος ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλῃσιν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ἐμοὶ δότε τόξον ἐΰξοον, ὄφρα μεθʼ ὑμῖν
χειρῶν καὶ σθένεος πειρήσομαι, ἤ μοι ἔτʼ ἐστὶν
ἴς, οἵη πάρος ἔσκεν ἐνὶ γναμπτοῖσι μέλεσσιν,
ἦ ἤδη μοι ὄλεσσεν ἄλη τʼ ἀκομιστίη τε.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὑπερφιάλως νεμέσησαν,
δείσαντες μὴ τόξον ἐΰξοον ἐντανύσειεν.
Ἀντίνοος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
ἆ δειλὲ ξείνων, ἔνι τοι φρένες οὐδʼ ἠβαιαί·
οὐκ ἀγαπᾷς ὃ ἕκηλος ὑπερφιάλοισι μεθʼ ἡμῖν
δαίνυσαι, οὐδέ τι δαιτὸς ἀμέρδεαι, αὐτὰρ ἀκούεις
μύθων ἡμετέρων καὶ ῥήσιος; οὐδέ τις ἄλλος
ἡμετέρων μύθων ξεῖνος καὶ πτωχὸς ἀκούει.
οἶνός σε τρώει μελιηδής, ὅς τε καὶ ἄλλους
βλάπτει, ὃς ἄν μιν χανδὸν ἕλῃ μηδʼ αἴσιμα πίνῃ.
οἶνος καὶ Κένταυρον, ἀγακλυτὸν Εὐρυτίωνα,
ἄασʼ ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ μεγαθύμου Πειριθόοιο,
ἐς Λαπίθας ἐλθόνθʼ· ὁ δʼ ἐπεὶ φρένας ἄασεν οἴνῳ,
μαινόμενος κάκʼ ἔρεξε δόμον κάτα Πειριθόοιο·
ἥρωας δʼ ἄχος εἷλε, διὲκ προθύρου δὲ θύραζε
ἕλκον ἀναΐξαντες, ἀπʼ οὔατα νηλέϊ χαλκῷ
ῥῖνάς τʼ ἀμήσαντες· ὁ δὲ φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἀασθεὶς
ἤϊεν ἣν ἄτην ὀχέων ἀεσίφρονι θυμῷ.
ἐξ οὗ Κενταύροισι καὶ ἀνδράσι νεῖκος ἐτύχθη,
οἷ δʼ αὐτῷ πρώτῳ κακὸν εὕρετο οἰνοβαρείων.
ὣς καὶ σοὶ μέγα πῆμα πιφαύσκομαι, αἴ κε τὸ τόξον
ἐντανύσῃς· οὐ γάρ τευ ἐπητύος ἀντιβολήσεις
ἡμετέρῳ ἐνὶ δήμῳ, ἄφαρ δέ σε νηῒ μελαίνῃ
εἰς Ἔχετον βασιλῆα, βροτῶν δηλήμονα πάντων,
πέμψομεν· ἔνθεν δʼ οὔ τι σαώσεαι· ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος
πῖνέ τε, μηδʼ ἐρίδαινε μετʼ ἀνδράσι κουροτέροισιν.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
Ἀντίνοʼ, οὐ μὲν καλὸν ἀτέμβειν οὐδὲ δίκαιον
ξείνους Τηλεμάχου, ὅς κεν τάδε δώμαθʼ ἵκηται·
ἔλπεαι, αἴ χʼ ὁ ξεῖνος Ὀδυσσῆος μέγα τόξον
ἐντανύσῃ χερσίν τε βίηφί τε ἧφι πιθήσας,
οἴκαδέ μʼ ἄξεσθαι καὶ ἑὴν θήσεσθαι ἄκοιτιν;
οὐδʼ αὐτός που τοῦτό γʼ ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔολπε·
μηδέ τις ὑμείων τοῦ γʼ εἵνεκα θυμὸν ἀχεύων
ἐνθάδε δαινύσθω, ἐπεὶ οὐδὲ μὲν οὐδὲ ἔοικεν.
τὴν δʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρύμαχος, Πολύβου πάϊς, ἀντίον ηὔδα·
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρον Πηνελόπεια,
οὔ τί σε τόνδʼ ἄξεσθαι ὀϊόμεθʼ· οὐδὲ ἔοικεν·
ἀλλʼ αἰσχυνόμενοι φάτιν ἀνδρῶν ἠδὲ γυναικῶν,
μή ποτέ τις εἴπῃσι κακώτερος ἄλλος Ἀχαιῶν
ἦ πολὺ χείρονες ἄνδρες ἀμύμονος ἀνδρὸς ἄκοιτιν
μνῶνται, οὐδέ τι τόξον ἐΰξοον ἐντανύουσιν·
ἀλλʼ ἄλλος τις πτωχὸς ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν
ῥηϊδίως ἐτάνυσσε βιόν, διὰ δʼ ἧκε σιδήρου.
ὣς ἐρέουσʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ ἂν ἐλέγχεα ταῦτα γένοιτο.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
Εὐρύμαχʼ, οὔ πως ἔστιν ἐϋκλεῖας κατὰ δῆμον
ἔμμεναι οἳ δὴ οἶκον ἀτιμάζοντες ἔδουσιν
ἀνδρὸς ἀριστῆος· τί δʼ ἐλέγχεα ταῦτα τίθεσθε;
οὗτος δὲ ξεῖνος μάλα μὲν μέγας ἠδʼ εὐπηγής,
πατρὸς δʼ ἐξ ἀγαθοῦ γένος εὔχεται ἔμμεναι υἱός.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ δότε τόξον ἐΰξοον, ὄφρα ἴδωμεν.
ὧδε γὰρ ἐξερέω, τὸ δὲ καὶ τετελεσμένον ἔσται·
εἴ κέ μιν ἐντανύσῃ, δώῃ δέ οἱ εὖχος Ἀπόλλων,
ἕσσω μιν χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, εἵματα καλά,
δώσω δʼ ὀξὺν ἄκοντα, κυνῶν ἀλκτῆρα καὶ ἀνδρῶν,
καὶ ξίφος ἄμφηκες· δώσω δʼ ὑπὸ ποσσὶ πέδιλα,
πέμψω δʼ ὅππη μιν κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.
τὴν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
μῆτερ ἐμή, τόξον μὲν Ἀχαιῶν οὔ τις ἐμεῖο
κρείσσων, ᾧ κʼ ἐθέλω, δόμεναί τε καὶ ἀρνήσασθαι,
οὔθʼ ὅσσοι κραναὴν Ἰθάκην κάτα κοιρανέουσιν,
οὔθʼ ὅσσοι νήσοισι πρὸς Ἤλιδος ἱπποβότοιο·
τῶν οὔ τίς μʼ ἀέκοντα βιήσεται, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλωμι
καὶ καθάπαξ ξείνῳ δόμεναι τάδε τόξα φέρεσθαι.
ἀλλʼ εἰς οἶκον ἰοῦσα τὰ σʼ αὐτῆς ἔργα κόμιζε,
ἱστόν τʼ ἠλακάτην τε, καὶ ἀμφιπόλοισι κέλευε
ἔργον ἐποίχεσθαι· τόξον δʼ ἄνδρεσσι μελήσει
πᾶσι, μάλιστα δʼ ἐμοί· τοῦ γὰρ κράτος ἔστʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
ἡ μὲν θαμβήσασα πάλιν οἶκόνδε βεβήκει·
παιδὸς γὰρ μῦθον πεπνυμένον ἔνθετο θυμῷ.
ἐς δʼ ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶ
κλαῖεν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα, φίλον πόσιν, ὄφρα οἱ ὕπνον
ἡδὺν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι βάλε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
αὐτὰρ ὁ τόξα λαβὼν φέρε καμπύλα δῖος ὑφορβός·
μνηστῆρες δʼ ἄρα πάντες ὁμόκλεον ἐν μεγάροισιν·
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·
πῆ δὴ καμπύλα τόξα φέρεις, ἀμέγαρτε συβῶτα,
πλαγκτέ; τάχʼ αὖ σʼ ἐφʼ ὕεσσι κύνες ταχέες κατέδονται
οἶον ἀπʼ ἀνθρώπων, οὓς ἔτρεφες, εἴ κεν Ἀπόλλων
ἡμῖν ἱλήκῃσι καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι.
ὣς φάσαν, αὐτὰρ, ὁ θῆκε φέρων αὐτῇ ἐνὶ χώρῃ,
δείσας, οὕνεκα πολλοὶ ὁμόκλεον ἐν μεγάροισιν.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἑτέρωθεν ἀπειλήσας ἐγεγώνει·
ἄττα, πρόσω φέρε τόξα· τάχʼ οὐκ εὖ πᾶσι πιθήσεις
μή σε καὶ ὁπλότερός περ ἐὼν ἀγρόνδε δίωμαι,
βάλλων χερμαδίοισι· βίηφι δὲ φέρτερός εἰμι.
αἲ γὰρ πάντων τόσσον, ὅσοι κατὰ δώματʼ ἔασι,
μνηστήρων χερσίν τε βίηφί τε φέρτερος εἴην·
τῷ κε τάχα στυγερῶς τινʼ ἐγὼ πέμψαιμι νέεσθαι
ἡμετέρου ἐξ οἴκου, ἐπεὶ κακὰ μηχανόωνται.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπʼ αὐτῷ ἡδὺ γέλασσαν
μνηστῆρες, καὶ δὴ μέθιεν χαλεποῖο χόλοιο
Τηλεμάχῳ· τὰ δὲ τόξα φέρων ἀνὰ δῶμα συβώτης
ἐν χείρεσσʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ δαΐφρονι θῆκε παραστάς.
ἐκ δὲ καλεσσάμενος προσέφη τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν·
Τηλέμαχος κέλεταί σε, περίφρων Εὐρύκλεια,
κληῗσαι μεγάροιο θύρας πυκινῶς ἀραρυίας.
ἢν δέ τις ἢ στοναχῆς ἠὲ κτύπου ἔνδον ἀκούσῃ
ἀνδρῶν ἡμετέροισιν ἐν ἕρκεσι, μή τι θύραζε
προβλώσκειν, ἀλλʼ αὐτοῦ ἀκὴν ἔμεναι παρὰ ἔργῳ.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, τῇ δʼ ἄπτερος ἔπλετο μῦθος,
κλήϊσεν δὲ θύρας μεγάρων εὖ ναιεταόντων.
σιγῇ δʼ ἐξ οἴκοιο Φιλοίτιος ἆλτο θύραζε,
κλήϊσεν δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα θύρας εὐερκέος αὐλῆς.
κεῖτο δʼ ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ ὅπλον νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης
βύβλινον, ᾧ ῥʼ ἐπέδησε θύρας, ἐς δʼ ἤϊεν αὐτός·
ἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ δίφρον ἰών, ἔνθεν περ ἀνέστη,
εἰσορόων Ὀδυσῆα. ὁ δʼ ἤδη τόξον ἐνώμα
πάντη ἀναστρωφῶν, πειρώμενος ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,
μὴ κέρα ἶπες ἔδοιεν ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος.
ὧδε τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·
ἦ τις θηητὴρ καὶ ἐπίκλοπος ἔπλετο τόξων·
ἤ ῥά νύ που τοιαῦτα καὶ αὐτῷ οἴκοθι κεῖται
ἢ ὅ γʼ ἐφορμᾶται ποιησέμεν, ὡς ἐνὶ χερσὶ
νωμᾷ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα κακῶν ἔμπαιος ἀλήτης.
ἄλλος δʼ αὖ εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·
αἲ γὰρ δὴ τοσσοῦτον ὀνήσιος ἀντιάσειεν
ὡς οὗτός ποτε τοῦτο δυνήσεται ἐντανύσασθαι.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφαν μνηστῆρες· ἀτὰρ πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς,
αὐτίκʼ ἐπεὶ μέγα τόξον ἐβάστασε καὶ ἴδε πάντη,
ὡς ὅτʼ ἀνὴρ φόρμιγγος ἐπιστάμενος καὶ ἀοιδῆς
ῥηϊδίως ἐτάνυσσε νέῳ περὶ κόλλοπι χορδήν,
ἅψας ἀμφοτέρωθεν ἐϋστρεφὲς ἔντερον οἰός,
ὣς ἄρʼ ἄτερ σπουδῆς τάνυσεν μέγα τόξον Ὀδυσσεύς.
δεξιτερῇ ἄρα χειρὶ λαβὼν πειρήσατο νευρῆς·
ἡ δʼ ὑπὸ καλὸν ἄεισε, χελιδόνι εἰκέλη αὐδήν.
μνηστῆρσιν δʼ ἄρʼ ἄχος γένετο μέγα, πᾶσι δʼ ἄρα χρὼς
ἐτράπετο· Ζεὺς δὲ μεγάλʼ ἔκτυπε σήματα φαίνων·
γήθησέν τʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
ὅττι ῥά οἱ τέρας ἧκε Κρόνου πάϊς ἀγκυλομήτεω·
εἵλετο δʼ ὠκὺν ὀϊστόν, ὅ οἱ παρέκειτο τραπέζῃ
γυμνός· τοὶ δʼ ἄλλοι κοίλης ἔντοσθε φαρέτρης
κείατο, τῶν τάχʼ ἔμελλον Ἀχαιοὶ πειρήσεσθαι.
τόν ῥʼ ἐπὶ πήχει ἑλὼν ἕλκεν νευρὴν γλυφίδας τε,
αὐτόθεν ἐκ δίφροιο καθήμενος, ἧκε δʼ ὀϊστὸν
ἄντα τιτυσκόμενος, πελέκεων δʼ οὐκ ἤμβροτε πάντων
πρώτης στειλειῆς, διὰ δʼ ἀμπερὲς ἦλθε θύραζε
ἰὸς χαλκοβαρής· ὁ δὲ Τηλέμαχον προσέειπε·
Τηλέμαχʼ, οὔ σʼ ὁ ξεῖνος ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐλέγχει
ἥμενος, οὐδέ τι τοῦ σκοποῦ ἤμβροτον οὐδέ τι τόξον
δὴν ἔκαμον τανύων· ἔτι μοι μένος ἔμπεδόν ἐστιν,
οὐχ ὥς με μνηστῆρες ἀτιμάζοντες ὄνονται.
νῦν δʼ ὥρη καὶ δόρπον Ἀχαιοῖσιν τετυκέσθαι
ἐν φάει, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα καὶ ἄλλως ἑψιάασθαι
μολπῇ καὶ φόρμιγγι· τὰ γάρ τʼ ἀναθήματα δαιτός.
ἦ καὶ ἐπʼ ὀφρύσι νεῦσεν· ὁ δʼ ἀμφέθετο ξίφος ὀξὺ
Τηλέμαχος, φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,
ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρα φίλην βάλεν ἔγχεϊ, ἄγχι δʼ ἄρʼ αὐτοῦ
πὰρ θρόνον ἑστήκει κεκορυθμένος αἴθοπι χαλκῷ.

### Book 22

αὐτὰρ ὁ γυμνώθη ῥακέων πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἆλτο δʼ ἐπὶ μέγαν οὐδόν, ἔχων βιὸν ἠδὲ φαρέτρην
ἰῶν ἐμπλείην, ταχέας δʼ ἐκχεύατʼ ὀϊστοὺς
αὐτοῦ πρόσθε ποδῶν, μετὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσιν ἔειπεν·
οὗτος μὲν δὴ ἄεθλος ἀάατος ἐκτετέλεσται·
νῦν αὖτε σκοπὸν ἄλλον, ὃν οὔ πώ τις βάλεν ἀνήρ,
εἴσομαι, αἴ κε τύχωμι, πόρῃ δέ μοι εὖχος Ἀπόλλων.
ἦ καὶ ἐπʼ Ἀντινόῳ ἰθύνετο πικρὸν ὀϊστόν.
ἦ τοι ὁ καλὸν ἄλεισον ἀναιρήσεσθαι ἔμελλε,
χρύσεον ἄμφωτον, καὶ δὴ μετὰ χερσὶν ἐνώμα,
ὄφρα πίοι οἴνοιο· φόνος δέ οἱ οὐκ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
μέμβλετο· τίς κʼ οἴοιτο μετʼ ἀνδράσι δαιτυμόνεσσι
μοῦνον ἐνὶ πλεόνεσσι, καὶ εἰ μάλα καρτερὸς εἴη,
οἷ τεύξειν θάνατόν τε κακὸν καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν;
τὸν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατὰ λαιμὸν ἐπισχόμενος βάλεν ἰῷ,
ἀντικρὺ δʼ ἁπαλοῖο διʼ αὐχένος ἤλυθʼ ἀκωκή.
ἐκλίνθη δʼ ἑτέρωσε, δέπας δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε χειρὸς
βλημένου, αὐτίκα δʼ αὐλὸς ἀνὰ ῥῖνας παχὺς ἦλθεν
αἵματος ἀνδρομέοιο· θοῶς δʼ ἀπὸ εἷο τράπεζαν
ὦσε ποδὶ πλήξας, ἀπὸ δʼ εἴδατα χεῦεν ἔραζε·
σῖτός τε κρέα τʼ ὀπτὰ φορύνετο. τοὶ δʼ ὁμάδησαν
μνηστῆρες κατὰ δώμαθʼ, ὅπως ἴδον ἄνδρα πεσόντα,
ἐκ δὲ θρόνων ἀνόρουσαν ὀρινθέντες κατὰ δῶμα,
πάντοσε παπταίνοντες ἐϋδμήτους ποτὶ τοίχους·
οὐδέ πη ἀσπὶς ἔην οὐδʼ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος ἑλέσθαι.
νείκειον δʼ Ὀδυσῆα χολωτοῖσιν ἐπέεσσι·
ξεῖνε, κακῶς ἀνδρῶν τοξάζεαι· οὐκέτʼ ἀέθλων
ἄλλων ἀντιάσεις· νῦν τοι σῶς αἰπὺς ὄλεθρος.
καὶ γὰρ δὴ νῦν φῶτα κατέκτανες ὃς μέγʼ ἄριστος
κούρων εἰν Ἰθάκῃ· τῷ σʼ ἐνθάδε γῦπες ἔδονται.
ἴσκεν ἕκαστος ἀνήρ, ἐπεὶ ἦ φάσαν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα
ἄνδρα κατακτεῖναι· τὸ δὲ νήπιοι οὐκ ἐνόησαν,
ὡς δή σφιν καὶ πᾶσιν ὀλέθρου πείρατʼ ἐφῆπτο.
τοὺς δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ κύνες, οὔ μʼ ἔτʼ ἐφάσκεθʼ ὑπότροπον οἴκαδʼ ἱκέσθαι
δήμου ἄπο Τρώων, ὅτι μοι κατεκείρετε οἶκον,
δμῳῇσιν δὲ γυναιξὶ παρευνάζεσθε βιαίως,
αὐτοῦ τε ζώοντος ὑπεμνάασθε γυναῖκα,
οὔτε θεοὺς δείσαντες, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,
οὔτε τινʼ ἀνθρώπων νέμεσιν κατόπισθεν ἔσεσθαι·
νῦν ὑμῖν καὶ πᾶσιν ὀλέθρου πείρατʼ ἐφῆπται.
ὣς φάτο, τοὺς δʼ ἄρα πάντας ὑπὸ χλωρὸν δέος εἷλεν·
πάπτηνεν δὲ ἕκαστος ὅπη φύγοι αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.
Εὐρύμαχος δέ μιν οἶος ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
εἰ μὲν δὴ Ὀδυσεὺς Ἰθακήσιος εἰλήλουθας,
ταῦτα μὲν αἴσιμα εἶπας, ὅσα ῥέζεσκον Ἀχαιοί,
πολλὰ μὲν ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀτάσθαλα, πολλὰ δʼ ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ.
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἤδη κεῖται ὃς αἴτιος ἔπλετο πάντων,
Ἀντίνοος· οὗτος γὰρ ἐπίηλεν τάδε ἔργα,
οὔ τι γάμου τόσσον κεχρημένος οὐδὲ χατίζων,
ἀλλʼ ἄλλα φρονέων, τά οἱ οὐκ ἐτέλεσσε Κρονίων,
ὄφρʼ Ἰθάκης κατὰ δῆμον ἐϋκτιμένης βασιλεύοι
αὐτός, ἀτὰρ σὸν παῖδα κατακτείνειε λοχήσας.
νῦν δʼ ὁ μὲν ἐν μοίρῃ πέφαται, σὺ δὲ φείδεο λαῶν
σῶν· ἀτὰρ ἄμμες ὄπισθεν ἀρεσσάμενοι κατὰ δῆμον,
ὅσσα τοι ἐκπέποται καὶ ἐδήδοται ἐν μεγάροισι,
τιμὴν ἀμφὶς ἄγοντες ἐεικοσάβοιον ἕκαστος,
χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τʼ ἀποδώσομεν, εἰς ὅ κε σὸν κῆρ
ἰανθῇ· πρὶν δʼ οὔ τι νεμεσσητὸν κεχολῶσθαι.
τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Εὐρύμαχʼ, οὐδʼ εἴ μοι πατρώϊα πάντʼ ἀποδοῖτε,
ὅσσα τε νῦν ὔμμʼ ἐστὶ καὶ εἴ ποθεν ἄλλʼ ἐπιθεῖτε,
οὐδέ κεν ὣς ἔτι χεῖρας ἐμὰς λήξαιμι φόνοιο
πρὶν πᾶσαν μνηστῆρας ὑπερβασίην ἀποτῖσαι.
νῦν ὑμῖν παράκειται ἐναντίον ἠὲ μάχεσθαι
ἢ φεύγειν, ὅς κεν θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξῃ·
ἀλλά τινʼ οὐ φεύξεσθαι ὀΐομαι αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.
ὣς φάτο, τῶν δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ.
τοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρύμαχος προσεφώνεε δεύτερον αὖτις·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐ γὰρ σχήσει ἀνὴρ ὅδε χεῖρας ἀάπτους,
ἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ ἔλλαβε τόξον ἐΰξοον ἠδὲ φαρέτρην,
οὐδοῦ ἄπο ξεστοῦ τοξάσσεται, εἰς ὅ κε πάντας
ἄμμε κατακτείνῃ· ἀλλὰ μνησώμεθα χάρμης.
φάσγανά τε σπάσσασθε καὶ ἀντίσχεσθε τραπέζας
ἰῶν ὠκυμόρων· ἐπὶ δʼ αὐτῷ πάντες ἔχωμεν
ἀθρόοι, εἴ κέ μιν οὐδοῦ ἀπώσομεν ἠδὲ θυράων,
ἔλθωμεν δʼ ἀνὰ ἄστυ, βοὴ δʼ ὤκιστα γένοιτο·
τῷ κε τάχʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ νῦν ὕστατα τοξάσσαιτο.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας εἰρύσσατο φάσγανον ὀξὺ
χάλκεον, ἀμφοτέρωθεν ἀκαχμένον, ἆλτο δʼ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ
σμερδαλέα ἰάχων· ὁ δʼ ἁμαρτῆ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἰὸν ἀποπροίει, βάλε δὲ στῆθος παρὰ μαζόν,
ἐν δέ οἱ ἥπατι πῆξε θοὸν βέλος· ἐκ δʼ ἄρα χειρὸς
φάσγανον ἧκε χαμᾶζε, περιρρηδὴς δὲ τραπέζῃ
κάππεσεν ἰδνωθείς, ἀπὸ δʼ εἴδατα χεῦεν ἔραζε
καὶ δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον· ὁ δὲ χθόνα τύπτε μετώπῳ
θυμῷ ἀνιάζων, ποσὶ δὲ θρόνον ἀμφοτέροισι
λακτίζων ἐτίνασσε· κατʼ ὀφθαλμῶν δʼ ἔχυτʼ ἀχλύς.
Ἀμφίνομος δʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐείσατο κυδαλίμοιο
ἀντίος ἀΐξας, εἴρυτο δὲ φάσγανον ὀξύ,
εἴ πώς οἱ εἴξειε θυράων. ἀλλʼ ἄρα μιν φθῆ
Τηλέμαχος κατόπισθε βαλὼν χαλκήρεϊ δουρὶ
ὤμων μεσσηγύς, διὰ δὲ στήθεσφιν ἔλασσεν·
δούπησεν δὲ πεσών, χθόνα δʼ ἤλασε παντὶ μετώπῳ.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἀπόρουσε, λιπὼν δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος
αὐτοῦ ἐν Ἀμφινόμῳ· περὶ γὰρ δίε μή τις Ἀχαιῶν
ἔγχος ἀνελκόμενον δολιχόσκιον ἢ ἐλάσειε
φασγάνῳ ἀΐξας ἠὲ προπρηνέα τύψας.
βῆ δὲ θέειν, μάλα δʼ ὦκα φίλον πατέρʼ εἰσαφίκανεν,
ἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ὦ πάτερ, ἤδη τοι σάκος οἴσω καὶ δύο δοῦρε
καὶ κυνέην πάγχαλκον, ἐπὶ κροτάφοις ἀραρυῖαν
αὐτός τʼ ἀμφιβαλεῦμαι ἰών, δώσω δὲ συβώτῃ
καὶ τῷ βουκόλῳ ἄλλα· τετευχῆσθαι γὰρ ἄμεινον.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
οἶσε θέων, ἧός μοι ἀμύνεσθαι πάρʼ ὀϊστοί,
μή μʼ ἀποκινήσωσι θυράων μοῦνον ἐόντα.
ὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ φίλῳ ἐπεπείθετο πατρί,
βῆ δʼ ἴμεναι θάλαμόνδʼ, ὅθι οἱ κλυτὰ τεύχεα κεῖτο.
ἔνθεν τέσσαρα μὲν σάκεʼ ἔξελε, δούρατα δʼ ὀκτὼ
καὶ πίσυρας κυνέας χαλκήρεας ἱπποδασείας·
βῆ δὲ φέρων, μάλα δʼ ὦκα φίλον πατέρʼ εἰσαφίκανεν,
αὐτὸς δὲ πρώτιστα περὶ χροῒ δύσετο χαλκόν·
ὣς δʼ αὔτως τὼ δμῶε δυέσθην τεύχεα καλά,
ἔσταν δʼ ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα δαΐφρονα ποικιλομήτην.
αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ, ὄφρα μὲν αὐτῷ ἀμύνεσθαι ἔσαν ἰοί.
τόφρα μνηστήρων ἕνα γʼ αἰεὶ ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
βάλλε τιτυσκόμενος· τοὶ δʼ ἀγχιστῖνοι ἔπιπτον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ λίπον ἰοὶ ὀϊστεύοντα ἄνακτα,
τόξον μὲν πρὸς σταθμὸν ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο
ἔκλινʼ ἑστάμεναι, πρὸς ἐνώπια παμφανόωντα,
αὐτὸς δʼ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισι σάκος θέτο τετραθέλυμνον,
κρατὶ δʼ ἐπʼ ἰφθίμῳ κυνέην εὔτυκτον ἔθηκεν,
ἵππουριν, δεινὸν δὲ λόφος καθύπερθεν ἔνευεν·
εἵλετο δʼ ἄλκιμα δοῦρε δύω κεκορυθμένα χαλκῷ.
ὀρσοθύρη δέ τις ἔσκεν ἐϋδμήτῳ ἐνὶ τοίχῳ,
ἀκρότατον δὲ παρʼ οὐδὸν ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο
ἦν ὁδὸς ἐς λαύρην, σανίδες δʼ ἔχον εὖ ἀραρυῖαι.
τὴν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς φράζεσθαι ἀνώγει δῖον ὑφορβὸν
ἑσταότʼ ἄγχʼ αὐτῆς· μία δʼ οἴη γίγνετʼ ἐφορμή.
τοῖς δʼ Ἀγέλεως μετέειπεν, ἔπος πάντεσσι πιφαύσκων·
ὦ φίλοι, οὐκ ἂν δή τις ἀνʼ ὀρσοθύρην ἀναβαίη
καὶ εἴποι λαοῖσι, βοὴ δʼ ὤκιστα γένοιτο;
τῷ κε τάχʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ νῦν ὕστατα τοξάσσαιτο.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν·
οὔ πως ἔστʼ, Ἀγέλαε διοτρεφές· ἄγχι γὰρ αἰνῶς
αὐλῆς καλὰ θύρετρα καὶ ἀργαλέον στόμα λαύρης·
καί χʼ εἷς πάντας ἐρύκοι ἀνήρ, ὅς τʼ ἄλκιμος εἴη.
ἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ, ὑμῖν τεύχεʼ ἐνείκω θωρηχθῆναι
ἐκ θαλάμου· ἔνδον γάρ, ὀΐομαι, οὐδέ πη ἄλλῃ
τεύχεα κατθέσθην Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ φαίδιμος υἱός.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἀνέβαινε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν,
εἰς θαλάμους Ὀδυσῆος ἀνὰ ῥῶγας μεγάροιο.
ἔνθεν δώδεκα μὲν σάκεʼ ἔξελε, τόσσα δὲ δοῦρα
καὶ τόσσας κυνέας χαλκήρεας ἱπποδασείας·
βῆ δʼ ἴμεναι, μάλα δʼ ὦκα φέρων μνηστῆρσιν ἔδωκεν.
καὶ τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆος λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,
ὡς περιβαλλομένους ἴδε τεύχεα χερσί τε δοῦρα
μακρὰ τινάσσοντας· μέγα δʼ αὐτῷ φαίνετο ἔργον.
αἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἦ μάλα δή τις ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναικῶν
νῶϊν ἐποτρύνει πόλεμον κακὸν ἠὲ Μελανθεύς.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ὦ πάτερ, αὐτὸς ἐγὼ τόδε γʼ ἤμβροτον—οὐδέ τις ἄλλος
αἴτιος—ὃς θαλάμοιο θύρην πυκινῶς ἀραρυῖαν
κάλλιπον ἀγκλίνας· τῶν δὲ σκοπὸς ἦεν ἀμείνων.
ἀλλʼ ἴθι, δῖʼ Εὔμαιε, θύρην ἐπίθες θαλάμοιο
καὶ φράσαι ἤ τις ἄρʼ ἐστὶ γυναικῶν ἣ τάδε ῥέζει,
ἢ υἱὸς Δολίοιο, Μελανθεύς, τόν περ ὀΐω.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
βῆ δʼ αὖτις θάλαμόνδε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν,
οἴσων τεύχεα καλά. νόησε δὲ δῖος ὑφορβός,
αἶψα δʼ Ὀδυσσῆα προσεφώνεεν ἐγγὺς ἐόντα·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
κεῖνος δʼ αὖτʼ ἀΐδηλος ἀνήρ, ὃν ὀϊόμεθʼ αὐτοί,
ἔρχεται ἐς θάλαμον· σὺ δέ μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες,
ἤ μιν ἀποκτείνω, αἴ κε κρείσσων γε γένωμαι,
ἦε σοὶ ἐνθάδʼ ἄγω, ἵνʼ ὑπερβασίας ἀποτίσῃ
πολλάς, ὅσσας οὗτος ἐμήσατο σῷ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
ἦ τοι ἐγὼ καὶ Τηλέμαχος μνηστῆρας ἀγαυοὺς
σχήσομεν ἔντοσθεν μεγάρων, μάλα περ μεμαῶτας.
σφῶϊ δʼ ἀποστρέψαντε πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὕπερθεν
ἐς θάλαμον βαλέειν, σανίδας δʼ ἐκδῆσαι ὄπισθε,
σειρὴν δὲ πλεκτὴν ἐξ αὐτοῦ πειρήναντε
κίονʼ ἀνʼ ὑψηλὴν ἐρύσαι πελάσαι τε δοκοῖσιν,
ὥς κεν δηθὰ ζωὸς ἐὼν χαλέπʼ ἄλγεα πάσχῃ·
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο,
βὰν δʼ ἴμεν ἐς θάλαμον, λαθέτην δέ μιν ἔνδον ἐόντα.
ἦ τοι ὁ μὲν θαλάμοιο μυχὸν κάτα τεύχεʼ ἐρεύνα,
τὼ δʼ ἔσταν ἑκάτερθε παρὰ σταθμοῖσι μένοντε.
εὖθʼ ὑπὲρ οὐδὸν ἔβαινε Μελάνθιος, αἰπόλος αἰγῶν,
τῇ ἑτέρῃ μὲν χειρὶ φέρων καλὴν τρυφάλειαν,
τῇ δʼ ἑτέρῃ σάκος εὐρὺ γέρον, πεπαλαγμένον ἄζῃ,
Λαέρτεω ἥρωος, ὃ κουρίζων φορέεσκε·
δὴ τότε γʼ ἤδη κεῖτο, ῥαφαὶ δὲ λέλυντο ἱμάντων·
τὼ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπαΐξανθʼ ἑλέτην ἔρυσάν τέ μιν εἴσω
κουρίξ, ἐν δαπέδῳ δὲ χαμαὶ βάλον ἀχνύμενον κῆρ,
σὺν δὲ πόδας χεῖράς τε δέον θυμαλγέϊ δεσμῷ
εὖ μάλʼ ἀποστρέψαντε διαμπερές, ὡς ἐκέλευσεν
υἱὸς Λαέρταο, πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
σειρὴν δὲ πλεκτὴν ἐξ αὐτοῦ πειρήναντε
κίονʼ ἀνʼ ὑψηλὴν ἔρυσαν πέλασάν τε δοκοῖσι.
τὸν δʼ ἐπικερτομέων προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
νῦν μὲν δὴ μάλα πάγχυ, Μελάνθιε, νύκτα φυλάξεις,
εὐνῇ ἔνι μαλακῇ καταλέγμενος, ὥς σε ἔοικεν·
οὐδέ σέ γʼ ἠριγένεια παρʼ Ὠκεανοῖο ῥοάων
λήσει ἐπερχομένη χρυσόθρονος, ἡνίκʼ ἀγινεῖς
αἶγας μνηστήρεσσι δόμον κάτα δαῖτα πένεσθαι.
ὣς ὁ μὲν αὖθι λέλειπτο, ταθεὶς ὀλοῷ ἐνὶ δεσμῷ·
τὼ δʼ ἐς τεύχεα δύντε, θύρην ἐπιθέντε φαεινήν,
βήτην εἰς Ὀδυσῆα δαΐφρονα, ποικιλομήτην.
ἔνθα μένος πνείοντες ἐφέστασαν, οἱ μὲν ἐπʼ οὐδοῦ
τέσσαρες, οἱ δʼ ἔντοσθε δόμων πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοί.
τοῖσι δʼ ἐπʼ ἀγχίμολον θυγάτηρ Διὸς ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη,
Μέντορι εἰδομένη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ αὐδήν.
τὴν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς γήθησεν ἰδὼν καὶ μῦθον ἔειπε·
Μέντορ, ἄμυνον ἀρήν, μνῆσαι δʼ ἑτάροιο φίλοιο,
ὅς σʼ ἀγαθὰ ῥέζεσκον· ὁμηλικίην δέ μοί ἐσσι.
ὣς φάτʼ, ὀϊόμενος λαοσσόον ἔμμεν Ἀθήνην.
μνηστῆρες δʼ ἑτέρωθεν ὁμόκλεον ἐν μεγάροισι·
πρῶτος τήν γʼ ἐνένιπε Δαμαστορίδης Ἀγέλαος·
Μέντορ, μή σʼ ἐπέεσσι παραιπεπίθῃσιν Ὀδυσσεὺς
μνηστήρεσσι μάχεσθαι, ἀμυνέμεναι δέ οἱ αὐτῷ.
ὧδε γὰρ ἡμέτερόν γε νόον τελέεσθαι ὀΐω·
ὁππότε κεν τούτους κτέωμεν, πατέρʼ ἠδὲ καὶ υἱόν,
ἐν δὲ σὺ τοῖσιν ἔπειτα πεφήσεαι, οἷα μενοινᾷς
ἔρδειν ἐν μεγάροις· σῷ δʼ αὐτοῦ κράατι τίσεις.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ὑμέων γε βίας ἀφελώμεθα χαλκῷ,
κτήμαθʼ ὁπόσσα τοί ἐστι, τά τʼ ἔνδοθι καὶ τὰ θύρηφι,
τοῖσιν Ὀδυσσῆος μεταμίξομεν· οὐδέ τοι υἷας
ζώειν ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐάσομεν, οὐδέ θύγατρας
οὐδʼ ἄλοχον κεδνὴν Ἰθάκης κατὰ ἄστυ πολεύειν.
ὣς φάτʼ, Ἀθηναίη δὲ χολώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,
νείκεσσεν δʼ Ὀδυσῆα χολωτοῖσιν ἐπέεσσιν·
οὐκέτι σοί γʼ, Ὀδυσεῦ, μένος ἔμπεδον οὐδέ τις ἀλκή
οἵη ὅτʼ ἀμφʼ Ἑλένῃ λευκωλένῳ εὐπατερείῃ,
εἰνάετες Τρώεσσιν ἐμάρναο νωλεμὲς αἰεί,
πολλοὺς δʼ ἄνδρας ἔπεφνες ἐν αἰνῇ δηϊοτῆτι,
σῇ δʼ ἥλω βουλῇ Πριάμου πόλις εὐρυάγυια.
πῶς δὴ νῦν, ὅτε σόν τε δόμον καὶ κτήμαθʼ ἱκάνεις,
ἄντα μνηστήρων ὀλοφύρεαι ἄλκιμος εἶναι;
ἀλλʼ ἄγε δεῦρο, πέπον, παρʼ ἔμʼ ἵστασο καὶ ἴδε ἔργον,
ὄφρʼ εἰδῇς οἷός τοι ἐν ἀνδράσι δυσμενέεσσιν
Μέντωρ Ἀλκιμίδης εὐεργεσίας ἀποτίνειν.
ἦ ῥα, καὶ οὔ πω πάγχυ δίδου ἑτεραλκέα νίκην,
ἀλλʼ ἔτʼ ἄρα σθένεός τε καὶ ἀλκῆς πειρήτιζεν
ἠμὲν Ὀδυσσῆος ἠδʼ υἱοῦ κυδαλίμοιο.
αὐτὴ δʼ αἰθαλόεντος ἀνὰ μεγάροιο μέλαθρον
ἕζετʼ ἀναΐξασα, χελιδόνι εἰκέλη ἄντην.
μνηστῆρας δʼ ὤτρυνε Δαμαστορίδης Ἀγέλαος,
Εὐρύνομός τε καὶ Ἀμφιμέδων Δημοπτόλεμός τε,
Πείσανδρός τε Πολυκτορίδης Πόλυβός τε δαΐφρων·
οἱ γὰρ μνηστήρων ἀρετῇ ἔσαν ἔξοχʼ ἄριστοι,
ὅσσοι ἔτʼ ἔζωον περί τε ψυχέων ἐμάχοντο·
τοὺς δʼ ἤδη ἐδάμασσε βιὸς καὶ ταρφέες ἰοί.
τοῖς δʼ Ἀγέλεως μετέειπεν, ἔπος πάντεσσι πιφαύσκων·
ὦ φίλοι, ἤδη σχήσει ἀνὴρ ὅδε χεῖρας ἀάπτους·
καὶ δή οἱ Μέντωρ μὲν ἔβη κενὰ εὔγματα εἰπών,
οἱ δʼ οἶοι λείπονται ἐπὶ πρώτῃσι θύρῃσι.
τῷ νῦν μὴ ἅμα πάντες ἐφίετε δούρατα μακρά,
ἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ οἱ ἓξ πρῶτον ἀκοντίσατʼ, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς
δώῃ Ὀδυσσῆα βλῆσθαι καὶ κῦδος ἀρέσθαι.
τῶν δʼ ἄλλων οὐ κῆδος, ἐπὴν οὗτός γε πέσῃσιν.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκόντισαν ὡς ἐκέλευεν,
ἱέμενοι· τὰ δὲ πάντα ἐτώσια θῆκεν Ἀθήνη,
τῶν ἄλλος μὲν σταθμὸν ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο
βεβλήκει, ἄλλος δὲ θύρην πυκινῶς ἀραρυῖαν·
ἄλλου δʼ ἐν τοίχῳ μελίη πέσε χαλκοβάρεια.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ δούρατʼ ἀλεύαντο μνηστήρων,
τοῖς δʼ ἄρα μύθων ἦρχε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
ὦ φίλοι, ἤδη μέν κεν ἐγὼν εἴποιμι καὶ ἄμμι
μνηστήρων ἐς ὅμιλον ἀκοντίσαι, οἳ μεμάασιν
ἡμέας ἐξεναρίξαι ἐπὶ προτέροισι κακοῖσιν.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκόντισαν ὀξέα δοῦρα
ἄντα τιτυσκόμενοι· Δημοπτόλεμον μὲν Ὀδυσσεύς,
Εὐρυάδην δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχος, Ἔλατον δὲ συβώτης,
Πείσανδρον δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπεφνε βοῶν ἐπιβουκόλος ἀνήρ.
οἱ μὲν ἔπειθʼ ἅμα πάντες ὀδὰξ ἕλον ἄσπετον οὖδας,
μνηστῆρες δʼ ἀνεχώρησαν μεγάροιο μυχόνδε·
τοὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπήϊξαν, νεκύων δʼ ἐξ ἔγχεʼ ἕλοντο.
αὖτις δὲ μνηστῆρες ἀκόντισαν ὀξέα δοῦρα
ἱέμενοι· τὰ δὲ πολλὰ ἐτώσια θῆκεν Ἀθήνη.
τῶν ἄλλος μὲν σταθμὸν ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο
βεβλήκειν, ἄλλος δὲ θύρην πυκινῶς ἀραρυῖαν·
ἄλλου δʼ ἐν τοίχῳ μελίη πέσε χαλκοβάρεια.
Ἀμφιμέδων δʼ ἄρα Τηλέμαχον βάλε χεῖρʼ ἐπὶ καρπῷ
λίγδην, ἄκρον δὲ ῥινὸν δηλήσατο χαλκός.
Κτήσιππος δʼ Εὔμαιον ὑπὲρ σάκος ἔγχεϊ μακρῷ
ὦμον ἐπέγραψεν· τὸ δʼ ὑπέρπτατο, πῖπτε δʼ ἔραζε.
τοὶ δʼ αὖτʼ ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα δαΐφρονα ποικιλομήτην,
μνηστήρων ἐς ὅμιλον ἀκόντισαν ὀξέα δοῦρα.
ἔνθʼ αὖτʼ Εὐρυδάμαντα βάλε πτολίπορθος Ὀδυσσεύς,
Ἀμφιμέδοντα δὲ Τηλέμαχος, Πόλυβον δὲ συβώτης·
Κτήσιππον δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα βοῶν ἐπιβουκόλος ἀνὴρ
βεβλήκει πρὸς στῆθος, ἐπευχόμενος δὲ προσηύδα·
ὦ Πολυθερσεΐδη φιλοκέρτομε, μή ποτε πάμπαν
εἴκων ἀφραδίῃς μέγα εἰπεῖν, ἀλλὰ θεοῖσιν
μῦθον ἐπιτρέψαι, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτεροί εἰσι.
τοῦτό τοι ἀντὶ ποδὸς ξεινήϊον, ὅν ποτʼ ἔδωκας
ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆϊ δόμον κάτʼ ἀλητεύοντι.
ἦ ῥα βοῶν ἑλίκων ἐπιβουκόλος· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
οὖτα Δαμαστορίδην αὐτοσχεδὸν ἔγχεϊ μακρῷ.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ Εὐηνορίδην Λειώκριτον οὖτα
δουρὶ μέσον κενεῶνα, διαπρὸ δὲ χαλκὸν ἔλασσεν·
ἤριπε δὲ πρηνής, χθόνα δʼ ἤλασε παντὶ μετώπῳ.
δὴ τότʼ Ἀθηναίη φθισίμβροτον αἰγίδʼ ἀνέσχεν
ὑψόθεν ἐξ ὀροφῆς· τῶν δὲ φρένες ἐπτοίηθεν.
οἱ δʼ ἐφέβοντο κατὰ μέγαρον βόες ὣς ἀγελαῖαι·
τὰς μέν τʼ αἰόλος οἶστρος ἐφορμηθεὶς ἐδόνησεν
ὥρῃ ἐν εἰαρινῇ, ὅτε τʼ ἤματα μακρὰ πέλονται.
οἱ δʼ ὥς τʼ αἰγυπιοὶ γαμψώνυχες ἀγκυλοχεῖλαι,
ἐξ ὀρέων ἐλθόντες ἐπʼ ὀρνίθεσσι θόρωσι·
ταὶ μέν τʼ ἐν πεδίῳ νέφεα πτώσσουσαι ἵενται,
οἱ δέ τε τὰς ὀλέκουσιν ἐπάλμενοι, οὐδέ τις ἀλκὴ
γίγνεται οὐδὲ φυγή· χαίρουσι δέ τʼ ἀνέρες ἄγρῃ·
ὣς ἄρα τοὶ μνηστῆρας ἐπεσσύμενοι κατὰ δῶμα
τύπτον ἐπιστροφάδην· τῶν δὲ στόνος ὤρνυτʼ ἀεικὴς
κράτων τυπτομένων, δάπεδον δʼ ἅπαν αἵματι θῦε.
Λειώδης δʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐπεσσύμενος λάβε γούνων,
καί μιν λισσόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
γουνοῦμαί σʼ, Ὀδυσεῦ· σὺ δέ μʼ αἴδεο καί μʼ ἐλέησον·
οὐ γάρ πώ τινά φημι γυναικῶν ἐν μεγάροισιν
εἰπεῖν οὐδέ τι ῥέξαι ἀτάσθαλον· ἀλλὰ καὶ ἄλλους
παύεσκον μνηστῆρας, ὅτις τοιαῦτά γε ῥέζοι.
ἀλλά μοι οὐ πείθοντο κακῶν ἄπο χεῖρας ἔχεσθαι·
τῷ καὶ ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐπέσπον.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ μετὰ τοῖσι θυοσκόος οὐδὲν ἐοργὼς
κείσομαι, ὡς οὐκ ἔστι χάρις μετόπισθʼ εὐεργέων·
τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
εἰ μὲν δὴ μετὰ τοῖσι θυοσκόος εὔχεαι εἶναι,
πολλάκι που μέλλεις ἀρήμεναι ἐν μεγάροισι
τηλοῦ ἐμοὶ νόστοιο τέλος γλυκεροῖο γενέσθαι,
σοὶ δʼ ἄλοχόν τε φίλην σπέσθαι καὶ τέκνα τεκέσθαι·
τῷ οὐκ ἂν θάνατόν γε δυσηλεγέα προφύγοισθα.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ξίφος εἵλετο χειρὶ παχείῃ
κείμενον, ὅ ῥʼ Ἀγέλαος ἀποπροέηκε χαμᾶζε
κτεινόμενος· τῷ τόν γε κατʼ αὐχένα μέσσον ἔλασσε.
φθεγγομένου δʼ ἄρα τοῦ γε κάρη κονίῃσιν ἐμίχθη.
Τερπιάδης δʼ ἔτʼ ἀοιδὸς ἀλύσκανε κῆρα μέλαιναν,
Φήμιος, ὅς ῥʼ ἤειδε μετὰ μνηστῆρσιν ἀνάγκῃ.
ἔστη δʼ ἐν χείρεσσίν ἔχων φόρμιγγα λίγειαν
ἄγχι παρʼ ὀρσοθύρην· δίχα δὲ φρεσὶ μερμήριζεν,
ἢ ἐκδὺς μεγάροιο Διὸς μεγάλου ποτὶ βωμὸν
ἑρκείου ἵζοιτο τετυγμένον, ἔνθʼ ἄρα πολλὰ
Λαέρτης Ὀδυσεύς τε βοῶν ἐπὶ μηρίʼ ἔκηαν,
ἦ γούνων λίσσοιτο προσαΐξας Ὀδυσῆα.
ὧδε δέ οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,
γούνων ἅψασθαι Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος.
ἦ τοι ὁ φόρμιγγα γλαφυρὴν κατέθηκε χαμᾶζε
μεσσηγὺς κρητῆρος ἰδὲ θρόνου ἀργυροήλου,
αὐτὸς δʼ αὖτʼ Ὀδυσῆα προσαΐξας λάβε γούνων,
καί μιν λισσόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
γουνοῦμαί σʼ, Ὀδυσεῦ· σὺ δέ μʼ αἴδεο καί μʼ ἐλέησον·
αὐτῷ τοι μετόπισθʼ ἄχος ἔσσεται, εἴ κεν ἀοιδὸν
πέφνῃς, ὅς τε θεοῖσι καὶ ἀνθρώποισιν ἀείδω.
αὐτοδίδακτος δʼ εἰμί, θεὸς δέ μοι ἐν φρεσὶν οἴμας
παντοίας ἐνέφυσεν· ἔοικα δέ τοι παραείδειν
ὥς τε θεῷ· τῷ μή με λιλαίεο δειροτομῆσαι.
καί κεν Τηλέμαχος τάδε γʼ εἴποι, σὸς φίλος υἱός,
ὡς ἐγὼ οὔ τι ἑκὼν ἐς σὸν δόμον οὐδὲ χατίζων
πωλεύμην μνηστῆρσιν ἀεισόμενος μετὰ δαῖτας,
ἀλλὰ πολὺ πλέονες καὶ κρείσσονες ἦγον ἀνάγκῃ.
ὣς φάτο, τοῦ δʼ ἤκουσʼ ἱερὴ ἲς Τηλεμάχοιο,
αἶψα δʼ ἑὸν πατέρα προσεφώνεεν ἐγγὺς ἐόντα·
ἴσχεο μηδέ τι τοῦτον ἀναίτιον οὔταε χαλκῷ·
καὶ κήρυκα Μέδοντα σαώσομεν, ὅς τέ μευ αἰεὶ
οἴκῳ ἐν ἡμετέρῳ κηδέσκετο παιδὸς ἐόντος,
εἰ δὴ μή μιν ἔπεφνε Φιλοίτιος ἠὲ συβώτης,
ἠὲ σοὶ ἀντεβόλησεν ὀρινομένῳ κατὰ δῶμα.
ὣς φάτο, τοῦ δʼ ἤκουσε Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·
πεπτηὼς γὰρ ἔκειτο ὑπὸ θρόνον, ἀμφὶ δὲ δέρμα
ἕστο βοὸς νεόδαρτον, ἀλύσκων κῆρα μέλαιναν.
αἶψα δʼ ἀπὸ θρόνου ὦρτο, θοῶς δʼ ἀπέδυνε βοείην
Τηλέμαχον δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα προσαΐξας λάβε γούνων,
καί μιν λισσόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐγὼ μὲν ὅδʼ εἰμί, σὺ δʼ ἴσχεο εἰπὲ δὲ πατρὶ
μή με περισθενέων δηλήσεται ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων κεχολωμένος, οἵ οἱ ἔκειρον
κτήματʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροις, σὲ δὲ νήπιοι οὐδὲν ἔτιον.
τὸν δʼ ἐπιμειδήσας προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
θάρσει, ἐπεὶ δή σʼ οὗτος ἐρύσσατο καὶ ἐσάωσεν,
ὄφρα γνῷς κατὰ θυμόν, ἀτὰρ εἴπῃσθα καὶ ἄλλῳ,
ὡς κακοεργίης εὐεργεσίη μέγʼ ἀμείνων.
ἀλλʼ ἐξελθόντες μεγάρων ἕζεσθε θύραζε
ἐκ φόνου εἰς αὐλήν, σύ τε καὶ πολύφημος ἀοιδός,
ὄφρʼ ἂν ἐγὼ κατὰ δῶμα πονήσομαι ὅττεό με χρή.
ὣς φάτο, τὼ δʼ ἔξω βήτην μεγάροιο κιόντε,
ἑζέσθην δʼ ἄρα τώ γε Διὸς μεγάλου ποτὶ βωμόν,
πάντοσε παπταίνοντε, φόνον ποτιδεγμένω αἰεί.
πάπτηνεν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καθʼ ἑὸν δόμον, εἴ τις ἔτʼ ἀνδρῶν
ζωὸς ὑποκλοπέοιτο, ἀλύσκων κῆρα μέλαιναν.
τοὺς δὲ ἴδεν μάλα πάντας ἐν αἵματι καὶ κονίῃσι
πεπτεῶτας πολλούς, ὥστʼ ἰχθύας, οὕς θʼ ἁλιῆες
κοῖλον ἐς αἰγιαλὸν πολιῆς ἔκτοσθε θαλάσσης
δικτύῳ ἐξέρυσαν πολυωπῷ· οἱ δέ τε πάντες
κύμαθʼ ἁλὸς ποθέοντες ἐπὶ ψαμάθοισι κέχυνται·
τῶν μέν τʼ Ἠέλιος φαέθων ἐξείλετο θυμόν·
ὣς τότʼ ἄρα μνηστῆρες ἐπʼ ἀλλήλοισι κέχυντο.
δὴ τότε Τηλέμαχον προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Τηλέμαχʼ, εἰ δʼ ἄγε μοι κάλεσον τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν,
ὄφρα ἔπος εἴπωμι τό μοι καταθύμιόν ἐστιν.
ὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ φίλῳ ἐπεπείθετο πατρί,
κινήσας δὲ θύρην προσέφη τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν·
δεῦρο δὴ ὄρσο, γρηῢ παλαιγενές, ἥ τε γυναικῶν
δμῳάων σκοπός ἐσσι κατὰ μέγαρʼ ἡμετεράων·
ἔρχεο· κικλήσκει σε πατὴρ ἐμός, ὄφρα τι εἴπῃ.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἐφώνησεν, τῇ δʼ ἄπτερος ἔπλετο μῦθος,
ὤϊξεν δὲ θύρας μεγάρων εὖ ναιεταόντων,
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν· αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος πρόσθʼ ἡγεμόνευεν.
εὗρεν ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ κταμένοισι νέκυσσιν,
αἵματι καὶ λύθρῳ πεπαλαγμένον ὥστε λέοντα,
ὅς ῥά τε βεβρωκὼς βοὸς ἔρχεται ἀγραύλοιο·
πᾶν δʼ ἄρα οἱ στῆθός τε παρήϊά τʼ ἀμφοτέρωθεν
αἱματόεντα πέλει, δεινὸς δʼ εἰς ὦπα ἰδέσθαι·
ὣς Ὀδυσεὺς πεπάλακτο πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὕπερθεν.
ἡ δʼ ὡς οὖν νέκυάς τε καὶ ἄσπετον εἴσιδεν αἷμα,
ἴθυσέν ῥʼ ὀλολύξαι, ἐπεὶ μέγα εἴσιδεν ἔργον·
ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατέρυκε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱεμένην περ,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ἐν θυμῷ, γρηῦ, χαῖρε καὶ ἴσχεο μηδʼ ὀλόλυζε·
οὐχ ὁσίη κταμένοισιν ἐπʼ ἀνδράσιν εὐχετάασθαι.
τούσδε δὲ μοῖρʼ ἐδάμασσε θεῶν καὶ σχέτλια ἔργα·
οὔ τινα γὰρ τίεσκον ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων,
οὐ κακὸν οὐδὲ μὲν ἐσθλόν, ὅτις σφέας εἰσαφίκοιτο·
τῷ καὶ ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐπέσπον.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι σὺ γυναῖκας ἐνὶ μεγάροις κατάλεξον,
αἵ τέ μʼ ἀτιμάζουσι καὶ αἳ νηλείτιδές εἰσιν.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, τέκνον, ἀληθείην καταλέξω.
πεντήκοντά τοί εἰσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναῖκες
δμῳαί, τὰς μέν τʼ ἔργα διδάξαμεν ἐργάζεσθαι,
εἴριά τε ξαίνειν καὶ δουλοσύνην ἀνέχεσθαι·
τάων δώδεκα πᾶσαι ἀναιδείης ἐπέβησαν,
οὔτʼ ἐμὲ τίουσαι οὔτʼ αὐτὴν Πηνελόπειαν.
Τηλέμαχος δὲ νέον μὲν ἀέξετο, οὐδέ ἑ μήτηρ
σημαίνειν εἴασκεν ἐπὶ δμῳῇσι γυναιξίν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ἐγὼν ἀναβᾶσʼ ὑπερώϊα σιγαλόεντα
εἴπω σῇ ἀλόχῳ, τῇ τις θεὸς ὕπνον ἐπῶρσε.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
μή πω τήνδʼ ἐπέγειρε· σὺ δʼ ἐνθάδε εἰπὲ γυναιξὶν
ἐλθέμεν, αἵ περ πρόσθεν ἀεικέα μηχανόωντο.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει
ἀγγελέουσα γυναιξὶ καὶ ὀτρυνέουσα νέεσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ὁ Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην
εἰς ἓ καλεσσάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ἄρχετε νῦν νέκυας φορέειν καὶ ἄνωχθε γυναῖκας·
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα θρόνους περικαλλέας ἠδὲ τραπέζας
ὕδατι καὶ σπόγγοισι πολυτρήτοισι καθαίρειν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ πάντα δόμον κατακοσμήσησθε,
δμῳὰς ἐξαγαγόντες ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο,
μεσσηγύς τε θόλου καὶ ἀμύμονος ἕρκεος αὐλῆς,
θεινέμεναι ξίφεσιν τανυήκεσιν, εἰς ὅ κε πασέων
ψυχὰς ἐξαφέλησθε καὶ ἐκλελάθωντʼ Ἀφροδίτης,
τὴν ἄρʼ ὑπὸ μνηστῆρσιν ἔχον μίσγοντό τε λάθρη.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δὲ γυναῖκες ἀολλέες ἦλθον ἅπασαι,
αἴνʼ ὀλοφυρόμεναι, θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέουσαι.
πρῶτα μὲν οὖν νέκυας φόρεον κατατεθνηῶτας,
κὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ τίθεσαν εὐερκέος αὐλῆς,
ἀλλήλοισιν ἐρείδουσαι· σήμαινε δʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
αὐτὸς ἐπισπέρχων· ταὶ δʼ ἐκφόρεον καὶ ἀνάγκῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα θρόνους περικαλλέας ἠδὲ τραπέζας
ὕδατι καὶ σπόγγοισι πολυτρήτοισι κάθαιρον.
αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος καὶ βουκόλος ἠδὲ συβώτης
λίστροισιν δάπεδον πύκα ποιητοῖο δόμοιο
ξῦον· ταὶ δʼ ἐφόρεον δμῳαί, τίθεσαν δὲ θύραζε.
αὐτὰρ ἐπειδὴ πᾶν μέγαρον διεκοσμήσαντο,
δμῳὰς δʼ ἐξαγαγόντες ἐϋσταθέος μεγάροιο,
μεσσηγύς τε θόλου καὶ ἀμύμονος ἕρκεος αὐλῆς,
εἴλεον ἐν στείνει, ὅθεν οὔ πως ἦεν ἀλύξαι.
τοῖσι δὲ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἦρχʼ ἀγορεύειν·
μὴ μὲν δὴ καθαρῷ θανάτῳ ἀπὸ θυμὸν ἑλοίμην
τάων, αἳ δὴ ἐμῇ κεφαλῇ κατʼ ὀνείδεα χεῦαν
μητέρι θʼ ἡμετέρῃ παρά τε μνηστῆρσιν ἴαυον.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη, καὶ πεῖσμα νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο
κίονος ἐξάψας μεγάλης περίβαλλε θόλοιο,
ὑψόσʼ ἐπεντανύσας, μή τις ποσὶν οὖδας ἵκοιτο.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἢ κίχλαι τανυσίπτεροι ἠὲ πέλειαι
ἕρκει ἐνιπλήξωσι, τό θʼ ἑστήκῃ ἐνὶ θάμνῳ,
αὖλιν ἐσιέμεναι, στυγερὸς δʼ ὑπεδέξατο κοῖτος,
ὣς αἵ γʼ ἑξείης κεφαλὰς ἔχον, ἀμφὶ δὲ πάσαις
δειρῇσι βρόχοι ἦσαν, ὅπως οἴκτιστα θάνοιεν.
ἤσπαιρον δὲ πόδεσσι μίνυνθά περ οὔ τι μάλα δήν.
ἐκ δὲ Μελάνθιον ἦγον ἀνὰ πρόθυρόν τε καὶ αὐλήν·
τοῦ δʼ ἀπὸ μὲν ῥῖνάς τε καὶ οὔατα νηλέϊ χαλκῷ
τάμνον, μήδεά τʼ ἐξέρυσαν, κυσὶν ὠμὰ δάσασθαι,
χεῖράς τʼ ἠδὲ πόδας κόπτον κεκοτηότι θυμῷ.
οἱ μὲν ἔπειτʼ ἀπονιψάμενοι χεῖράς τε πόδας τε
εἰς Ὀδυσῆα δόμονδε κίον, τετέλεστο δὲ ἔργον·
αὐτὰρ ὅ γε προσέειπε φίλην τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν·
οἶσε θέειον, γρηΰ, κακῶν ἄκος, οἶσε δέ μοι πῦρ,
ὄφρα θεειώσω μέγαρον· σὺ δὲ Πηνελόπειαν
ἐλθεῖν ἐνθάδʼ ἄνωχθι σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξί·
πάσας δʼ ὄτρυνον δμῳὰς κατὰ δῶμα νέεσθαι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
ναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε, τέκνον ἐμόν, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε τοι χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἐνείκω,
μηδʼ οὕτω ῥάκεσιν πεπυκασμένος εὐρέας ὤμους
ἕσταθʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι· νεμεσσητὸν δέ κεν εἴη.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
πῦρ νῦν μοι πρώτιστον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γενέσθω.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, οὐδʼ ἀπίθησε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια,
ἤνεικεν δʼ ἄρα πῦρ καὶ θήϊον· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
εὖ διεθείωσεν μέγαρον καὶ δῶμα καὶ αὐλήν.
γρηῢς δʼ αὖτʼ ἀπέβη διὰ δώματα κάλʼ Ὀδυσῆος
ἀγγελέουσα γυναιξὶ καὶ ὀτρυνέουσα νέεσθαι·
αἱ δʼ ἴσαν ἐκ μεγάροιο δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσαι.
αἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἀμφεχέοντο καὶ ἠσπάζοντʼ Ὀδυσῆα,
καὶ κύνεον ἀγαπαζόμεναι κεφαλήν τε καὶ ὤμους
χεῖράς τʼ αἰνύμεναι· τὸν δὲ γλυκὺς ἵμερος ᾕρει
κλαυθμοῦ καὶ στοναχῆς, γίγνωσκε δʼ ἄρα φρεσὶ πάσας.

### Book 23

γρηῢς δʼ εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀνεβήσετο καγχαλόωσα,
δεσποίνῃ ἐρέουσα φίλον πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα·
γούνατα δʼ ἐρρώσαντο, πόδες δʼ ὑπερικταίνοντο.
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
ἔγρεο, Πηνελόπεια, φίλον τέκος, ὄφρα ἴδηαι
ὀφθαλμοῖσι τεοῖσι τά τʼ ἔλδεαι ἤματα πάντα.
ἦλθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὀψέ περ ἐλθών.
μνηστῆρας δʼ ἔκτεινεν ἀγήνορας, οἵ θʼ ἑὸν οἶκον
κήδεσκον καὶ κτήματʼ ἔδον βιόωντό τε παῖδα.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
μαῖα φίλη, μάργην σε θεοὶ θέσαν, οἵ τε δύνανται
ἄφρονα ποιῆσαι καὶ ἐπίφρονά περ μάλʼ ἐόντα,
καί τε χαλιφρονέοντα σαοφροσύνης ἐπέβησαν·
οἵ σέ περ ἔβλαψαν· πρὶν δὲ φρένας αἰσίμη ἦσθα.
τίπτε με λωβεύεις πολυπενθέα θυμὸν ἔχουσαν
ταῦτα παρὲξ ἐρέουσα καὶ ἐξ ὕπνου μʼ ἀνεγείρεις
ἡδέος, ὅς μʼ ἐπέδησε φίλα βλέφαρʼ ἀμφικαλύψας;
οὐ γάρ πω τοιόνδε κατέδραθον, ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ᾤχετʼ ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν κατάβηθι καὶ ἂψ ἔρχευ μέγαρόνδε.
εἰ γάρ τίς μʼ ἄλλη γε γυναικῶν, αἵ μοι ἔασι,
ταῦτʼ ἐλθοῦσʼ ἤγγειλε καὶ ἐξ ὕπνου ἀνέγειρεν,
τῷ κε τάχα στυγερῶς μιν ἐγὼν ἀπέπεμψα νέεσθαι
αὖτις ἔσω μέγαρον· σὲ δὲ τοῦτό γε γῆρας ὀνήσει.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
οὔ τί σε λωβεύω, τέκνον φίλον, ἀλλʼ ἔτυμόν τοι
ἦλθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὡς ἀγορεύω,
ὁ ξεῖνος, τὸν πάντες ἀτίμων ἐν μεγάροισι.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἄρα μιν πάλαι ᾔδεεν ἔνδον ἐόντα,
ἀλλὰ σαοφροσύνῃσι νοήματα πατρὸς ἔκευθεν,
ὄφρʼ ἀνδρῶν τίσαιτο βίην ὑπερηνορεόντων.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡ δʼ ἐχάρη καὶ ἀπὸ λέκτροιο θοροῦσα
γρηῒ περιπλέχθη, βλεφάρων δʼ ἀπὸ δάκρυον ἧκεν·
καί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
εἰ δʼ ἄγε δή μοι, μαῖα φίλη, νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες,
εἰ ἐτεὸν δὴ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,
ὅππως δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφῆκε
μοῦνος ἐών, οἱ δʼ αἰὲν ἀολλέες ἔνδον ἔμιμνον.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
οὐκ ἴδον, οὐ πυθόμην, ἀλλὰ στόνον οἶον ἄκουσα
κτεινομένων· ἡμεῖς δὲ μυχῷ θαλάμων εὐπήκτων
ἥμεθʼ ἀτυζόμεναι, σανίδες δʼ ἔχον εὖ ἀραρυῖαι,
πρίν γʼ ὅτε δή με σὸς υἱὸς ἀπὸ μεγάροιο κάλεσσε
Τηλέμαχος· τὸν γάρ ῥα πατὴρ προέηκε καλέσσαι.
εὗρον ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ κταμένοισι νέκυσσιν
ἑσταόθʼ· οἱ δέ μιν ἀμφί, κραταίπεδον οὖδας ἔχοντες,
κείατʼ ἐπʼ ἀλλήλοισιν· ἰδοῦσά κε θυμὸν ἰάνθης.
νῦν δʼ οἱ μὲν δὴ πάντες ἐπʼ αὐλείῃσι θύρῃσιν
ἀθρόοι, αὐτὰρ ὁ δῶμα θεειοῦται περικαλλές,
πῦρ μέγα κηάμενος· σὲ δέ με προέηκε καλέσσαι.
ἀλλʼ ἕπευ, ὄφρα σφῶϊν ἐϋφροσύνης ἐπιβῆτον
ἀμφοτέρω φίλον ἦτορ, ἐπεὶ κακὰ πολλὰ πέποσθε.
νῦν δʼ ἤδη τόδε μακρὸν ἐέλδωρ ἐκτετέλεσται·
ἦλθε μὲν αὐτὸς ζωὸς ἐφέστιος, εὗρε δὲ καὶ σὲ
καὶ παῖδʼ ἐν μεγάροισι· κακῶς δʼ οἵ πέρ μιν ἔρεζον
μνηστῆρες, τοὺς πάντας ἐτίσατο ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
μαῖα φίλη, μή πω μέγʼ ἐπεύχεο καγχαλόωσα.
οἶσθα γὰρ ὥς κʼ ἀσπαστὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισι φανείη
πᾶσι, μάλιστα δʼ ἐμοί τε καὶ υἱέϊ, τὸν τεκόμεσθα·
ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἔσθʼ ὅδε μῦθος ἐτήτυμος, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,
ἀλλά τις ἀθανάτων κτεῖνε μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,
ὕβριν ἀγασσάμενος θυμαλγέα καὶ κακὰ ἔργα.
οὔ τινα γὰρ τίεσκον ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων,
οὐ κακὸν οὐδὲ μὲν ἐσθλόν, ὅτις σφέας εἰσαφίκοιτο·
τῷ διʼ ἀτασθαλίας ἔπαθον κακόν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὤλεσε τηλοῦ νόστον Ἀχαιΐδος, ὤλετο δʼ αὐτός.
τὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
τέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων,
ἣ πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα παρʼ ἐσχάρῃ οὔ ποτʼ ἔφησθα
οἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· θυμὸς δέ τοι αἰὲν ἄπιστος.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε τοι καὶ σῆμα ἀριφραδὲς ἄλλο τι εἴπω,
οὐλήν, τήν ποτέ μιν σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι.
τὴν ἀπονίζουσα φρασάμην, ἔθελον δὲ σοὶ αὐτῇ
εἰπέμεν· ἀλλά με κεῖνος ἑλὼν ἐπὶ μάστακα χερσὶν
οὐκ ἔα εἰπέμεναι πολυϊδρείῃσι νόοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἕπευ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐμέθεν περιδώσομαι αὐτῆς,
αἴ κέν σʼ ἐξαπάφω, κτεῖναί μʼ οἰκτίστῳ ὀλέθρῳ.
τὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
μαῖα φίλη, χαλεπόν σε θεῶν αἰειγενετάων
δήνεα εἴρυσθαι, μάλα περ πολύϊδριν ἐοῦσαν.
ἀλλʼ ἔμπης ἴομεν μετὰ παῖδʼ ἐμόν, ὄφρα ἴδωμαι
ἄνδρας μνηστῆρας τεθνηότας, ἠδʼ ὃς ἔπεφνεν.
ὣς φαμένη κατέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα· πολλὰ δέ οἱ κῆρ
ὥρμαινʼ, ἢ ἀπάνευθε φίλον πόσιν ἐξερεείνοι,
ἦ παρστᾶσα κύσειε κάρη καὶ χεῖρε λαβοῦσα.
ἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ εἰσῆλθεν καὶ ὑπέρβη λάϊνον οὐδόν,
ἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐναντίη, ἐν πυρὸς αὐγῇ,
τοίχου τοῦ ἑτέρου· ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρὸς κίονα μακρὴν
ἧστο κάτω ὁρόων, ποτιδέγμενος εἴ τί μιν εἴποι
ἰφθίμη παράκοιτις, ἐπεὶ ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν.
ἡ δʼ ἄνεω δὴν ἧστο, τάφος δέ οἱ ἦτορ ἵκανεν·
ὄψει δʼ ἄλλοτε μέν μιν ἐνωπαδίως ἐσίδεσκεν,
ἄλλοτε δʼ ἀγνώσασκε κακὰ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
μῆτερ ἐμή, δύσμητερ, ἀπηνέα θυμὸν ἔχουσα,
τίφθʼ οὕτω πατρὸς νοσφίζεαι, οὐδὲ παρʼ αὐτὸν
ἑζομένη μύθοισιν ἀνείρεαι οὐδὲ μεταλλᾷς;
οὐ μέν κʼ ἄλλη γʼ ὧδε γυνὴ τετληότι θυμῷ
ἀνδρὸς ἀφεσταίη, ὅς οἱ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας
ἔλθοι ἐεικοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·
σοὶ δʼ αἰεὶ κραδίη στερεωτέρη ἐστὶ λίθοιο.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
τέκνον ἐμόν, θυμός μοι ἐνὶ στήθεσσι τέθηπεν,
οὐδέ τι προσφάσθαι δύναμαι ἔπος οὐδʼ ἐρέεσθαι
οὐδʼ εἰς ὦπα ἰδέσθαι ἐναντίον. εἰ δʼ ἐτεὸν δὴ
ἔστʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ἦ μάλα νῶϊ
γνωσόμεθʼ ἀλλήλων καὶ λώϊον· ἔστι γὰρ ἡμῖν
σήμαθʼ, ἃ δὴ καὶ νῶϊ κεκρυμμένα ἴδμεν ἀπʼ ἄλλων.
ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
αἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι μητέρʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔασον
πειράζειν ἐμέθεν· τάχα δὲ φράσεται καὶ ἄρειον.
νῦν δʼ ὅττι ῥυπόω, κακὰ δὲ χροῒ εἵματα εἷμαι,
τοὔνεκʼ ἀτιμάζει με καὶ οὔ πω φησὶ τὸν εἶναι.
ἡμεῖς δὲ φραζώμεθʼ ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένηται.
καὶ γάρ τίς θʼ ἕνα φῶτα κατακτείνας ἐνὶ δήμῳ,
ᾧ μὴ πολλοὶ ἔωσιν ἀοσσητῆρες ὀπίσσω,
φεύγει πηούς τε προλιπὼν καὶ πατρίδα γαῖαν·
ἡμεῖς δʼ ἕρμα πόληος ἀπέκταμεν, οἳ μέγʼ ἄριστοι
κούρων εἰν Ἰθάκῃ· τὰ δέ σε φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
αὐτὸς ταῦτά γε λεῦσσε, πάτερ φίλε· σὴν γὰρ ἀρίστην
μῆτιν ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους φάσʼ ἔμμεναι, οὐδέ κέ τίς τοι
ἄλλος ἀνὴρ ἐρίσειε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων.
ἡμεῖς δʼ ἐμμεμαῶτες ἅμʼ ἑψόμεθʼ, οὐδέ τί φημι
ἀλκῆς δευήσεσθαι, ὅση δύναμίς γε πάρεστιν.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
τοιγὰρ ἐγὼν ἐρέω ὥς μοι δοκεῖ εἶναι ἄριστα.
πρῶτα μὲν ἂρ λούσασθε καὶ ἀμφιέσασθε χιτῶνας,
δμῳὰς δʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀνώγετε εἵμαθʼ ἑλέσθαι·
αὐτὰρ θεῖος ἀοιδὸς ἔχων φόρμιγγα λίγειαν
ἡμῖν ἡγείσθω φιλοπαίγμονος ὀρχηθμοῖο,
ὥς κέν τις φαίη γάμον ἔμμεναι ἐκτὸς ἀκούων,
ἢ ἀνʼ ὁδὸν στείχων, ἢ οἳ περιναιετάουσι·
μὴ πρόσθε κλέος εὐρὺ φόνου κατὰ ἄστυ γένηται
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, πρίν γʼ ἡμέας ἐλθέμεν ἔξω
ἀγρὸν ἐς ἡμέτερον πολυδένδρεον· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα
φρασσόμεθʼ ὅττι κε κέρδος Ὀλύμπιος ἐγγυαλίξῃ.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο
πρῶτα μὲν οὖν λούσαντο καὶ ἀμφιέσαντο χιτῶνας,
ὅπλισθεν δὲ γυναῖκες· ὁ δʼ εἵλετο θεῖος ἀοιδὸς
φόρμιγγα γλαφυρήν, ἐν δέ σφισιν ἵμερον ὦρσε
μολπῆς τε γλυκερῆς καὶ ἀμύμονος ὀρχηθμοῖο.
τοῖσιν δὲ μέγα δῶμα περιστεναχίζετο ποσσὶν
ἀνδρῶν παιζόντων καλλιζώνων τε γυναικῶν.
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε δόμων ἔκτοσθεν ἀκούων·
ἦ μάλα δή τις ἔγημε πολυμνήστην βασίλειαν·
σχετλίη, οὐδʼ ἔτλη πόσιος οὗ κουριδίοιο
εἴρυσθαι μέγα δῶμα διαμπερές, ἧος ἵκοιτο.
ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε, τὰ δʼ οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.
αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆα μεγαλήτορα ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
Εὐρυνόμη ταμίη λοῦσεν καὶ χρῖσεν ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν φᾶρος καλὸν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα·
αὐτὰρ κὰκ κεφαλῆς κάλλος πολὺ χεῦεν Ἀθήνη
μείζονά τʼ εἰσιδέειν καὶ πάσσονα· κὰδ δὲ κάρητος
οὔλας ἧκε κόμας, ὑακινθίνῳ ἄνθει ὁμοίας.
ὡς δʼ ὅτε τις χρυσὸν περιχεύεται ἀργύρῳ ἀνὴρ
ἴδρις, ὃν Ἥφαιστος δέδαεν καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
τέχνην παντοίην, χαρίεντα δὲ ἔργα τελείει·
ὣς μὲν τῷ περίχευε χάριν κεφαλῇ τε καὶ ὤμοις.
ἐκ δʼ ἀσαμίνθου βῆ δέμας ἀθανάτοισιν ὁμοῖος·
ἂψ δʼ αὖτις κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη,
ἀντίον ἧς ἀλόχου, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
δαιμονίη, περί σοί γε γυναικῶν θηλυτεράων
κῆρ ἀτέραμνον ἔθηκαν Ὀλύμπια δώματʼ ἔχοντες·
οὐ μέν κʼ ἄλλη γʼ ὧδε γυνὴ τετληότι θυμῷ
ἀνδρὸς ἀφεσταίη, ὅς οἱ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας
ἔλθοι ἐεικοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι, μαῖα, στόρεσον λέχος, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτὸς
λέξομαι· ἦ γὰρ τῇ γε σιδήρεον ἐν φρεσὶ ἦτορ.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
δαιμόνιʼ, οὔτʼ ἄρ τι μεγαλίζομαι οὔτʼ ἀθερίζω
οὔτε λίην ἄγαμαι, μάλα δʼ εὖ οἶδʼ οἷος ἔησθα
ἐξ Ἰθάκης ἐπὶ νηὸς ἰὼν δολιχηρέτμοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ στόρεσον πυκινὸν λέχος, Εὐρύκλεια,
ἐκτὸς ἐϋσταθέος θαλάμου, τόν ῥʼ αὐτὸς ἐποίει·
ἔνθα οἱ ἐκθεῖσαι πυκινὸν λέχος ἐμβάλετʼ εὐνήν,
κώεα καὶ χλαίνας καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη πόσιος πειρωμένη· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὀχθήσας ἄλοχον προσεφώνεε κεδνὰ ἰδυῖαν·
ὦ γύναι, ἦ μάλα τοῦτο ἔπος θυμαλγὲς ἔειπες·
τίς δέ μοι ἄλλοσε θῆκε λέχος; χαλεπὸν δέ κεν εἴη
καὶ μάλʼ ἐπισταμένῳ, ὅτε μὴ θεὸς αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν
ῥηϊδίως ἐθέλων θείη ἄλλῃ ἐνὶ χώρῃ.
ἀνδρῶν δʼ οὔ κέν τις ζωὸς βροτός, οὐδὲ μάλʼ ἡβῶν,
ῥεῖα μετοχλίσσειεν, ἐπεὶ μέγα σῆμα τέτυκται
ἐν λέχει ἀσκητῷ· τὸ δʼ ἐγὼ κάμον οὐδέ τις ἄλλος.
θάμνος ἔφυ τανύφυλλος ἐλαίης ἕρκεος ἐντός,
ἀκμηνὸς θαλέθων· πάχετος δʼ ἦν ἠΰτε κίων.
τῷ δʼ ἐγὼ ἀμφιβαλὼν θάλαμον δέμον, ὄφρʼ ἐτέλεσσα,
πυκνῇσιν λιθάδεσσι, καὶ εὖ καθύπερθεν ἔρεψα,
κολλητὰς δʼ ἐπέθηκα θύρας, πυκινῶς ἀραρυίας.
καὶ τότʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπέκοψα κόμην τανυφύλλου ἐλαίης,
κορμὸν δʼ ἐκ ῥίζης προταμὼν ἀμφέξεσα χαλκῷ
εὖ καὶ ἐπισταμένως, καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνα,
ἑρμῖνʼ ἀσκήσας, τέτρηνα δὲ πάντα τερέτρῳ.
ἐκ δὲ τοῦ ἀρχόμενος λέχος ἔξεον, ὄφρʼ ἐτέλεσσα,
δαιδάλλων χρυσῷ τε καὶ ἀργύρῳ ἠδʼ ἐλέφαντι·
ἐκ δʼ ἐτάνυσσα ἱμάντα βοὸς φοίνικι φαεινόν.
οὕτω τοι τόδε σῆμα πιφαύσκομαι· οὐδέ τι οἶδα,
ἤ μοι ἔτʼ ἔμπεδόν ἐστι, γύναι, λέχος, ἦέ τις ἤδη
ἀνδρῶν ἄλλοσε θῆκε, ταμὼν ὕπο πυθμένʼ ἐλαίης.
ὣς φάτο, τῆς δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,
σήματʼ ἀναγνούσῃ τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς·
δακρύσασα δʼ ἔπειτʼ ἰθὺς δράμεν, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας
δειρῇ βάλλʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ, κάρη δʼ ἔκυσʼ ἠδὲ προσηύδα·
μή μοι, Ὀδυσσεῦ, σκύζευ, ἐπεὶ τά περ ἄλλα μάλιστα
ἀνθρώπων πέπνυσο· θεοὶ δʼ ὤπαζον ὀϊζύν,
οἳ νῶϊν ἀγάσαντο παρʼ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντε
ἥβης ταρπῆναι καὶ γήραος οὐδὸν ἱκέσθαι.
αὐτὰρ μὴ νῦν μοι τόδε χώεο μηδὲ νεμέσσα,
οὕνεκά σʼ οὐ τὸ πρῶτον, ἐπεὶ ἴδον, ὧδʼ ἀγάπησα.
αἰεὶ γάρ μοι θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισιν
ἐρρίγει μή τίς με βροτῶν ἀπάφοιτο ἔπεσσιν
ἐλθών· πολλοὶ γὰρ κακὰ κέρδεα βουλεύουσιν.
οὐδέ κεν Ἀργείη Ἑλένη, Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα,
ἀνδρὶ παρʼ ἀλλοδαπῷ ἐμίγη φιλότητι καὶ εὐνῇ,
εἰ ᾔδη ὅ μιν αὖτις ἀρήϊοι υἷες Ἀχαιῶν
ἀξέμεναι οἶκόνδε φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔμελλον.
τὴν δʼ ἦ τοι ῥέξαι θεὸς ὤρορεν ἔργον ἀεικές·
τὴν δʼ ἄτην οὐ πρόσθεν ἑῷ ἐγκάτθετο θυμῷ
λυγρήν, ἐξ ἧς πρῶτα καὶ ἡμέας ἵκετο πένθος.
νῦν δʼ, ἐπεὶ ἤδη σήματʼ ἀριφραδέα κατέλεξας
εὐνῆς ἡμετέρης, ἣν οὐ βροτὸς ἄλλος ὀπώπει,
ἀλλʼ οἶοι σύ τʼ ἐγώ τε καὶ ἀμφίπολος μία μούνη,
Ἀκτορίς, ἥν μοι δῶκε πατὴρ ἔτι δεῦρο κιούσῃ,
ἣ νῶϊν εἴρυτο θύρας πυκινοῦ θαλάμοιο,
πείθεις δή μευ θυμόν, ἀπηνέα περ μάλʼ ἐόντα.
ὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο·
κλαῖε δʼ ἔχων ἄλοχον θυμαρέα, κεδνὰ ἰδυῖαν.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἀσπάσιος γῆ νηχομένοισι φανήῃ,
ὧν τε Ποσειδάων εὐεργέα νῆʼ ἐνὶ πόντῳ
ῥαίσῃ, ἐπειγομένην ἀνέμῳ καὶ κύματι πηγῷ·
παῦροι δʼ ἐξέφυγον πολιῆς ἁλὸς ἤπειρόνδε
νηχόμενοι, πολλὴ δὲ περὶ χροῒ τέτροφεν ἅλμη,
ἀσπάσιοι δʼ ἐπέβαν γαίης, κακότητα φυγόντες·
ὣς ἄρα τῇ ἀσπαστὸς ἔην πόσις εἰσοροώσῃ,
δειρῆς δʼ οὔ πω πάμπαν ἀφίετο πήχεε λευκώ.
καί νύ κʼ ὀδυρομένοισι φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
εἰ μὴ ἄρʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
νύκτα μὲν ἐν περάτῃ δολιχὴν σχέθεν, Ἠῶ δʼ αὖτε
ῥύσατʼ ἐπʼ Ὠκεανῷ χρυσόθρονον, οὐδʼ ἔα ἵππους
ζεύγνυσθʼ ὠκύποδας, φάος ἀνθρώποισι φέροντας,
Λάμπον καὶ Φαέθονθʼ, οἵ τʼ Ἠῶ πῶλοι ἄγουσι.
καὶ τότʼ ἄρʼ ἣν ἄλοχον προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
ὦ γύναι, οὐ γάρ πω πάντων ἐπὶ πείρατʼ ἀέθλων
ἤλθομεν, ἀλλʼ ἔτʼ ὄπισθεν ἀμέτρητος πόνος ἔσται,
πολλὸς καὶ χαλεπός, τὸν ἐμὲ χρὴ πάντα τελέσσαι.
ὣς γάρ μοι ψυχὴ μαντεύσατο Τειρεσίαο
ἤματι τῷ ὅτε δὴ κατέβην δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω,
νόστον ἑταίροισιν διζήμενος ἠδʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ.
ἀλλʼ ἔρχευ, λέκτρονδʼ ἴομεν, γύναι, ὄφρα καὶ ἤδη
ὕπνῳ ὕπο γλυκερῷ ταρπώμεθα κοιμηθέντε.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
εὐνὴ μὲν δή σοί γε τότʼ ἔσσεται ὁππότε θυμῷ
σῷ ἐθέλῃς, ἐπεὶ ἄρ σε θεοὶ ποίησαν ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐϋκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·
ἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ ἐφράσθης καί τοι θεὸς ἔμβαλε θυμῷ,
εἴπʼ ἄγε μοι τὸν ἄεθλον, ἐπεὶ καὶ ὄπισθεν, ὀΐω,
πεύσομαι, αὐτίκα δʼ ἐστὶ δαήμεναι οὔ τι χέρειον.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
δαιμονίη, τί τʼ ἄρʼ αὖ με μάλʼ ὀτρύνουσα κελεύεις
εἰπέμεν; αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω.
οὐ μέν τοι θυμὸς κεχαρήσεται· οὐδὲ γὰρ αὐτὸς
χαίρω, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστεʼ ἄνωγεν
ἐλθεῖν, ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔχοντʼ εὐῆρες ἐρετμόν,
εἰς ὅ κε τοὺς ἀφίκωμαι οἳ οὐκ ἴσασι θάλασσαν
ἀνέρες, οὐδέ θʼ ἅλεσσι μεμιγμένον εἶδαρ ἔδουσιν·
οὐδʼ ἄρα τοί γʼ ἴσασι νέας φοινικοπαρῄους,
οὐδʼ εὐήρεʼ ἐρετμά, τά τε πτερὰ νηυσὶ πέλονται.
σῆμα δέ μοι τόδʼ ἔειπεν ἀριφραδές, οὐδέ σε κεύσω·
ὁππότε κεν δή μοι ξυμβλήμενος ἄλλος ὁδίτης
φήῃ ἀθηρηλοιγὸν ἔχειν ἀνὰ φαιδίμῳ ὤμῳ,
καὶ τότε μʼ ἐν γαίῃ πήξαντʼ ἐκέλευεν ἐρετμόν,
ἔρξανθʼ ἱερὰ καλὰ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι,
ἀρνειὸν ταῦρόν τε συῶν τʼ ἐπιβήτορα κάπρον,
οἴκαδʼ ἀποστείχειν, ἔρδειν θʼ ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας
ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι,
πᾶσι μάλʼ ἑξείης· θάνατος δέ μοι ἐξ ἁλὸς αὐτῷ
ἀβληχρὸς μάλα τοῖος ἐλεύσεται, ὅς κέ με πέφνῃ
γήρα’ ὕπο λιπαρῷ ἀρημένον· ἀμφὶ δὲ λαοὶ
ὄλβιοι ἔσσονται· τὰ δέ μοι φάτο πάντα τελεῖσθαι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
εἰ μὲν δὴ γῆράς γε θεοὶ τελέουσιν ἄρειον,
ἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα κακῶν ὑπάλυξιν ἔσεσθαι.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·
τόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ Εὐρυνόμη τε ἰδὲ τροφὸς ἔντυον εὐνὴν
ἐσθῆτος μαλακῆς, δαΐδων ὕπο λαμπομενάων.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ στόρεσαν πυκινὸν λέχος ἐγκονέουσαι,
γρηῢς μὲν κείουσα πάλιν οἶκόνδε βεβήκει,
τοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρυνόμη θαλαμηπόλος ἡγεμόνευεν
ἐρχομένοισι λέχοσδε, δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσα·
ἐς θάλαμον δʼ ἀγαγοῦσα πάλιν κίεν. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἀσπάσιοι λέκτροιο παλαιοῦ θεσμὸν ἵκοντο·
αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος καὶ βουκόλος ἠδὲ συβώτης
παῦσαν ἄρʼ ὀρχηθμοῖο πόδας, παῦσαν δὲ γυναῖκας,
αὐτοὶ δʼ εὐνάζοντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.
τὼ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν φιλότητος ἐταρπήτην ἐρατεινῆς,
τερπέσθην μύθοισι, πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐνέποντε,
ἡ μὲν ὅσʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀνέσχετο δῖα γυναικῶν,
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων ἐσορῶσʼ ἀΐδηλον ὅμιλον,
οἳ ἕθεν εἵνεκα πολλά, βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,
ἔσφαζον, πολλὸς δὲ πίθων ἠφύσσετο οἶνος·
αὐτὰρ ὁ διογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς ὅσα κήδεʼ ἔθηκεν
ἀνθρώποις ὅσα τʼ αὐτὸς ὀϊζύσας ἐμόγησε,
πάντʼ ἔλεγʼ· ἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐτέρπετʼ ἀκούουσʼ, οὐδέ οἱ ὕπνος
πῖπτεν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι πάρος καταλέξαι ἅπαντα.
ἤρξατο δʼ ὡς πρῶτον Κίκονας δάμασʼ, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
ἦλθʼ ἐς Λωτοφάγων ἀνδρῶν πίειραν ἄρουραν·
ἠδʼ ὅσα Κύκλωψ ἔρξε, καὶ ὡς ἀπετίσατο ποινὴν
ἰφθίμων ἑτάρων, οὓς ἤσθιεν οὐδʼ ἐλέαιρεν·
ἠδʼ ὡς Αἴολον ἵκεθʼ, ὅ μιν πρόφρων ὑπέδεκτο
καὶ πέμπʼ, οὐδέ πω αἶσα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἱκέσθαι
ἤην, ἀλλά μιν αὖτις ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα
πόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα φέρεν βαρέα στενάχοντα·
ἠδʼ ὡς Τηλέπυλον Λαιστρυγονίην ἀφίκανεν,
οἳ νῆάς τʼ ὄλεσαν καὶ ἐϋκνήμιδας ἑταίρους
πάντας· Ὀδυσσεὺς δʼ οἶος ὑπέκφυγε νηῒ μελαίνῃ·
καὶ Κίρκης κατέλεξε δόλον πολυμηχανίην τε,
ἠδʼ ὡς εἰς Ἀΐδεω δόμον ἤλυθεν εὐρώεντα,
ψυχῇ χρησόμενος Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο,
νηῒ πολυκλήϊδι, καὶ εἴσιδε πάντας ἑταίρους
μητέρα θʼ, ἥ μιν ἔτικτε καὶ ἔτρεφε τυτθὸν ἐόντα·
ἠδʼ ὡς Σειρήνων ἁδινάων φθόγγον ἄκουσεν,
ὥς θʼ ἵκετο Πλαγκτὰς πέτρας δεινήν τε Χάρυβδιν
Σκύλλην θʼ, ἣν οὔ πώ ποτʼ ἀκήριοι ἄνδρες ἄλυξαν·
ἠδʼ ὡς Ἠελίοιο βόας κατέπεφνον ἑταῖροι·
ἠδʼ ὡς νῆα θοὴν ἔβαλε ψολόεντι κεραυνῷ
Ζεὺς ὑψιβρεμέτης, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔφθιθεν ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι
πάντες ὁμῶς, αὐτὸς δὲ κακὰς ὑπὸ κῆρας ἄλυξεν·
ὥς θʼ ἵκετʼ Ὠγυγίην νῆσον νύμφην τε Καλυψώ,
ἣ δή μιν κατέρυκε, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι,
ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, καὶ ἔτρεφεν ἠδὲ ἔφασκε
θήσειν ἀθάνατον καὶ ἀγήραον ἤματα πάντα·
ἀλλὰ τοῦ οὔ ποτε θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔπειθεν·
ἠδʼ ὡς ἐς Φαίηκας ἀφίκετο πολλὰ μογήσας,
οἳ δή μιν περὶ κῆρι θεὸν ὣς τιμήσαντο
καὶ πέμψαν σὺν νηῒ φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά τε δόντες.
τοῦτʼ ἄρα δεύτατον εἶπεν ἔπος, ὅτε οἱ γλυκὺς ὕπνος
λυσιμελὴς ἐπόρουσε, λύων μελεδήματα θυμοῦ.
ἡ δʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
ὁππότε δή ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐέλπετο ὃν κατὰ θυμὸν
εὐνῆς ἧς ἀλόχου ταρπήμεναι ἠδὲ καὶ ὕπνου,
αὐτίκʼ ἀπʼ Ὠκεανοῦ χρυσόθρονον ἠριγένειαν
ὦρσεν, ἵνʼ ἀνθρώποισι φόως φέροι· ὦρτο δʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
εὐνῆς ἐκ μαλακῆς, ἀλόχῳ δʼ ἐπὶ μῦθον ἔτελλεν·
ὦ γύναι, ἤδη μὲν πολέων κεκορήμεθʼ ἀέθλων
ἀμφοτέρω, σὺ μὲν ἐνθάδʼ ἐμὸν πολυκηδέα νόστον
κλαίουσʼ. αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ Ζεὺς ἄλγεσι καὶ θεοὶ ἄλλοι
ἱέμενον πεδάασκον ἐμῆς ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης·
νῦν δʼ ἐπεὶ ἀμφοτέρω πολυήρατον ἱκόμεθʼ εὐνήν,
κτήματα μὲν τά μοι ἔστι, κομιζέμεν ἐν μεγάροισι,
μῆλα δʼ ἅ μοι μνηστῆρες ὑπερφίαλοι κατέκειραν,
πολλὰ μὲν αὐτὸς ἐγὼ ληΐσσομαι, ἄλλα δʼ Ἀχαιοὶ
δώσουσʼ, εἰς ὅ κε πάντας ἐνιπλήσωσιν ἐπαύλους.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ πολυδένδρεον ἀγρὸν ἔπειμι,
ὀψόμενος πατέρʼ ἐσθλόν, ὅ μοι πυκινῶς ἀκάχηται·
σοὶ δέ, γύναι, τάδʼ ἐπιτέλλω, πινυτῇ περ ἐούσῃ·
αὐτίκα γὰρ φάτις εἶσιν ἅμʼ ἠελίῳ ἀνιόντι
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οὓς ἔκτανον ἐν μεγάροισιν·
εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν
ἧσθαι, μηδέ τινα προτιόσσεο μηδʼ ἐρέεινε.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἐδύσετο τεύχεα καλά,
ὦρσε δὲ Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην,
πάντας δʼ ἔντεʼ ἄνωγεν ἀρήϊα χερσὶν ἑλέσθαι.
οἱ δέ οἱ οὐκ ἀπίθησαν, ἐθωρήσσοντο δὲ χαλκῷ,
ὤϊξαν δὲ θύρας, ἐκ δʼ ἤϊον· ἦρχε δʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.
ἤδη μὲν φάος ἦεν ἐπὶ χθόνα, τοὺς δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀθήνη
νυκτὶ κατακρύψασα θοῶς ἐξῆγε πόληος.

### Book 24

Ἑρμῆς δὲ ψυχὰς Κυλλήνιος ἐξεκαλεῖτο
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων· ἔχε δὲ ῥάβδον μετὰ χερσὶν
καλὴν χρυσείην, τῇ τʼ ἀνδρῶν ὄμματα θέλγει
ὧν ἐθέλει, τοὺς δʼ αὖτε καὶ ὑπνώοντας ἐγείρει·
τῇ ῥʼ ἄγε κινήσας, ταὶ δὲ τρίζουσαι ἕποντο.
ὡς δʼ ὅτε νυκτερίδες μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο
τρίζουσαι ποτέονται, ἐπεί κέ τις ἀποπέσῃσιν
ὁρμαθοῦ ἐκ πέτρης, ἀνά τʼ ἀλλήλῃσιν ἔχονται,
ὣς αἱ τετριγυῖαι ἅμʼ ἤϊσαν· ἦρχε δʼ ἄρα σφιν
Ἑρμείας ἀκάκητα κατʼ εὐρώεντα κέλευθα.
πὰρ δʼ ἴσαν Ὠκεανοῦ τε ῥοὰς καὶ Λευκάδα πέτρην,
ἠδὲ παρʼ Ἠελίοιο πύλας καὶ δῆμον ὀνείρων
ἤϊσαν· αἶψα δʼ ἵκοντο κατʼ ἀσφοδελὸν λειμῶνα,
ἔνθα τε ναίουσι ψυχαί, εἴδωλα καμόντων.
εὗρον δὲ ψυχὴν Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος
καὶ Πατροκλῆος καὶ ἀμύμονος Ἀντιλόχοιο
Αἴαντός θʼ, ὃς ἄριστος ἔην εἶδός τε δέμας τε
τῶν ἄλλων Δαναῶν μετʼ ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα.
ὣς οἱ μὲν περὶ κεῖνον ὁμίλεον· ἀγχίμολον δὲ
ἤλυθʼ ἔπι ψυχὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο
ἀχνυμένη· περὶ δʼ ἄλλαι ἀγηγέραθʼ, ὅσσαι ἅμʼ αὐτῷ
οἴκῳ ἐν Αἰγίσθοιο θάνον καὶ πότμον ἐπέσπον.
τὸν προτέρη ψυχὴ προσεφώνεε Πηλεΐωνος·
Ἀτρεΐδη, περὶ μέν σʼ ἔφαμεν Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ
ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων φίλον ἔμμεναι ἤματα πάντα,
οὕνεκα πολλοῖσίν τε καὶ ἰφθίμοισιν ἄνασσες
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχομεν ἄλγεʼ Ἀχαιοί.
ἦ τʼ ἄρα καὶ σοὶ πρῶϊ παραστήσεσθαι ἔμελλεν
μοῖρʼ ὀλοή, τὴν οὔ τις ἀλεύεται ὅς κε γένηται.
ὡς ὄφελες τιμῆς ἀπονήμενος, ἧς περ ἄνασσες,
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων θάνατον καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν·
τῷ κέν τοι τύμβον μὲν ἐποίησαν Παναχαιοί,
ἠδέ κε καὶ σῷ παιδὶ μέγα κλέος ἤραʼ ὀπίσσω·
νῦν δʼ ἄρα σʼ οἰκτίστῳ θανάτῳ εἵμαρτο ἁλῶναι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀτρείδαο·
ὄλβιε Πηλέος υἱέ, θεοῖς ἐπιείκελʼ Ἀχιλλεῦ,
ὃς θάνες ἐν Τροίῃ ἑκὰς Ἄργεος· ἀμφὶ δέ σʼ ἄλλοι
κτείνοντο Τρώων καὶ Ἀχαιῶν υἷες ἄριστοι,
μαρνάμενοι περὶ σεῖο· σὺ δʼ ἐν στροφάλιγγι κονίης
κεῖσο μέγας μεγαλωστί, λελασμένος ἱπποσυνάων.
ἡμεῖς δὲ πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐμαρνάμεθʼ· οὐδέ κε πάμπαν
παυσάμεθα πτολέμου, εἰ μὴ Ζεὺς λαίλαπι παῦσεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί σʼ ἐπὶ νῆας ἐνείκαμεν ἐκ πολέμοιο,
κάτθεμεν ἐν λεχέεσσι, καθήραντες χρόα καλὸν
ὕδατί τε λιαρῷ καὶ ἀλείφατι· πολλὰ δέ σʼ ἀμφὶ
δάκρυα θερμὰ χέον Δαναοὶ κείροντό τε χαίτας.
μήτηρ δʼ ἐξ ἁλὸς ἦλθε σὺν ἀθανάτῃς ἁλίῃσιν
ἀγγελίης ἀΐουσα· βοὴ δʼ ἐπὶ πόντον ὀρώρει
θεσπεσίη, ὑπὸ δὲ τρόμος ἔλλαβε πάντας Ἀχαιούς·
καί νύ κʼ ἀναΐξαντες ἔβαν κοίλας ἐπὶ νῆας,
εἰ μὴ ἀνὴρ κατέρυκε παλαιά τε πολλά τε εἰδώς,
Νέστωρ, οὗ καὶ πρόσθεν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή·
ὅ σφιν ἐϋφρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·
ἴσχεσθʼ, Ἀργεῖοι, μὴ φεύγετε, κοῦροι Ἀχαιῶν·
μήτηρ ἐξ ἁλὸς ἥδε σὺν ἀθανάτῃς ἁλίῃσιν
ἔρχεται, οὗ παιδὸς τεθνηότος ἀντιόωσα.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἔσχοντο φόβου μεγάθυμοι Ἀχαιοί·
ἀμφὶ δέ σʼ ἔστησαν κοῦραι ἁλίοιο γέροντος
οἴκτρʼ ὀλοφυρόμεναι, περὶ δʼ ἄμβροτα εἵματα ἕσσαν.
Μοῦσαι δʼ ἐννέα πᾶσαι ἀμειβόμεναι ὀπὶ καλῇ
θρήνεον· ἔνθα κεν οὔ τινʼ ἀδάκρυτόν γʼ ἐνόησας
Ἀργείων· τοῖον γὰρ ὑπώρορε Μοῦσα λίγεια.
ἑπτὰ δὲ καὶ δέκα μέν σε ὁμῶς νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ
κλαίομεν ἀθάνατοί τε θεοὶ θνητοί τʼ ἄνθρωποι·
ὀκτωκαιδεκάτῃ δʼ ἔδομεν πυρί, πολλὰ δέ σʼ ἀμφὶ
μῆλα κατεκτάνομεν μάλα πίονα καὶ ἕλικας βοῦς.
καίεο δʼ ἔν τʼ ἐσθῆτι θεῶν καὶ ἀλείφατι πολλῷ
καὶ μέλιτι γλυκερῷ· πολλοὶ δʼ ἥρωες Ἀχαιοὶ
τεύχεσιν ἐρρώσαντο πυρὴν πέρι καιομένοιο,
πεζοί θʼ ἱππῆές τε· πολὺς δʼ ὀρυμαγδὸς ὀρώρει
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δή σε φλὸξ ἤνυσεν Ἡφαίστοιο,
ἠῶθεν δή τοι λέγομεν λεύκʼ ὀστέʼ, Ἀχιλλεῦ,
οἴνῳ ἐν ἀκρήτῳ καὶ ἀλείφατι· δῶκε δὲ μήτηρ
χρύσεον ἀμφιφορῆα· Διωνύσοιο δὲ δῶρον
φάσκʼ ἔμεναι, ἔργον δὲ περικλυτοῦ Ἡφαίστοιο.
ἐν τῷ τοι κεῖται λεύκʼ ὀστέα, φαίδιμʼ Ἀχιλλεῦ,
μίγδα δὲ Πατρόκλοιο Μενοιτιάδαο θανόντος,
χωρὶς δʼ Ἀντιλόχοιο, τὸν ἔξοχα τῖες ἁπάντων
τῶν ἄλλων ἑτάρων, μετὰ Πάτροκλόν γε θανόντα.
ἀμφʼ αὐτοῖσι δʼ ἔπειτα μέγαν καὶ ἀμύμονα τύμβον
χεύαμεν Ἀργείων ἱερὸς στρατὸς αἰχμητάων
ἀκτῇ ἔπι προὐχούσῃ, ἐπὶ πλατεῖ Ἑλλησπόντῳ,
ὥς κεν τηλεφανὴς ἐκ ποντόφιν ἀνδράσιν εἴη
τοῖς οἳ νῦν γεγάασι καὶ οἳ μετόπισθεν ἔσονται.
μήτηρ δʼ αἰτήσασα θεοὺς περικαλλέʼ ἄεθλα
θῆκε μέσῳ ἐν ἀγῶνι ἀριστήεσσιν Ἀχαιῶν.
ἤδη μὲν πολέων τάφῳ ἀνδρῶν ἀντεβόλησας
ἡρώων, ὅτε κέν ποτʼ ἀποφθιμένου βασιλῆος
ζώννυνταί τε νέοι καὶ ἐπεντύνονται ἄεθλα·
ἀλλά κε κεῖνα μάλιστα ἰδὼν θηήσαο θυμῷ,
οἷʼ ἐπὶ σοὶ κατέθηκε θεὰ περικαλλέʼ ἄεθλα,
ἀργυρόπεζα Θέτις· μάλα γὰρ φίλος ἦσθα θεοῖσιν.
ὣς σὺ μὲν οὐδὲ θανὼν ὄνομʼ ὤλεσας, ἀλλά τοι αἰεὶ
πάντας ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους κλέος ἔσσεται ἐσθλόν, Ἀχιλλεῦ,
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τί τόδʼ ἦδος, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσα;
ἐν νόστῳ γάρ μοι Ζεὺς μήσατο λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον
Αἰγίσθου ὑπὸ χερσὶ καὶ οὐλομένης ἀλόχοιο.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
ἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης,
ψυχὰς μνηστήρων κατάγων Ὀδυσῆϊ δαμέντων,
τὼ δʼ ἄρα θαμβήσαντʼ ἰθὺς κίον, ὡς ἐσιδέσθην.
ἔγνω δὲ ψυχὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο
παῖδα φίλον Μελανῆος, ἀγακλυτὸν Ἀμφιμέδοντα·
ξεῖνος γάρ οἱ ἔην Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκία ναίων.
τὸν προτέρη ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀτρεΐδαο·
Ἀμφίμεδον, τί παθόντες ἐρεμνὴν γαῖαν ἔδυτε
πάντες κεκριμένοι καὶ ὁμήλικες; οὐδέ κεν ἄλλως
κρινάμενος λέξαιτο κατὰ πτόλιν ἄνδρας ἀρίστους.
ἦ ὔμμʼ ἐν νήεσσι Ποσειδάων ἐδάμασσεν,
ὄρσας ἀργαλέους ἀνέμους καὶ κύματα μακρά;
ἦ που ἀνάρσιοι ἄνδρες ἐδηλήσαντʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου
βοῦς περιταμνομένους ἠδʼ οἰῶν πώεα καλά,
ἠὲ περὶ πτόλιος μαχεούμενοι ἠδὲ γυναικῶν;
εἰπέ μοι εἰρομένῳ· ξεῖνος δέ τοι εὔχομαι εἶναι.
ἦ οὐ μέμνῃ ὅτε κεῖσε κατήλυθον ὑμέτερον δῶ,
ὀτρυνέων Ὀδυσῆα σὺν ἀντιθέῳ Μενελάῳ
Ἴλιον εἰς ἅμʼ ἕπεσθαι ἐϋσσέλμων ἐπὶ νηῶν;
μηνὶ δʼ ἄρʼ οὔλῳ πάντα περήσαμεν εὐρέα πόντον,
σπουδῇ παρπεπιθόντες Ὀδυσσῆα πτολίπορθον.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀμφιμέδοντος·
Ἀτρεΐδη κύδιστε, ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγάμεμνον,
μέμνημαι τάδε πάντα, διοτρεφές, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·
σοὶ δʼ ἐγὼ εὖ μάλα πάντα καὶ ἀτρεκέως καταλέξω,
ἡμετέρου θανάτοιο κακὸν τέλος, οἷον ἐτύχθη.
μνώμεθʼ Ὀδυσσῆος δὴν οἰχομένοιο δάμαρτα·
ἡ δʼ οὔτʼ ἠρνεῖτο στυγερὸν γάμον οὔτʼ ἐτελεύτα,
ἡμῖν φραζομένη θάνατον καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν,
ἀλλὰ δόλον τόνδʼ ἄλλον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμήριξε·
στησαμένη μέγαν ἱστὸν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὕφαινε,
λεπτὸν καὶ περίμετρον· ἄφαρ δʼ ἡμῖν μετέειπε·
κοῦροι ἐμοὶ μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
μίμνετʼ ἐπειγόμενοι τὸν ἐμὸν γάμον, εἰς ὅ κε φᾶρος
ἐκτελέσω, μή μοι μεταμώνια νήματʼ ὄληται,
Λαέρτῃ ἥρωϊ ταφήϊον, εἰς ὅτε κέν μιν
μοῖρʼ ὀλοὴ καθέλῃσι τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο,
μή τίς μοι κατὰ δῆμον Ἀχαιϊάδων νεμεσήσῃ,
αἴ κεν ἄτερ σπείρου κεῖται πολλὰ κτεατίσσας.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
ἔνθα καὶ ἠματίη μὲν ὑφαίνεσκεν μέγαν ἱστόν,
νύκτας δʼ ἀλλύεσκεν, ἐπεὶ δαΐδας παραθεῖτο.
ὣς τρίετες μὲν ἔληθε δόλῳ καὶ ἔπειθεν Ἀχαιούς·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε τέτρατον ἦλθεν ἔτος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,
μηνῶν φθινόντων, περὶ δʼ ἤματα πόλλʼ ἐτελέσθη,
καὶ τότε δή τις ἔειπε γυναικῶν, ἣ σάφα ᾔδη,
καὶ τήν γʼ ἀλλύουσαν ἐφεύρομεν ἀγλαὸν ἱστόν.
ὣς τὸ μὲν ἐξετέλεσσε καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλουσʼ, ὑπʼ ἀνάγκης.
εὖθʼ ἡ φᾶρος ἔδειξεν, ὑφήνασα μέγαν ἱστόν,
πλύνασʼ, ἠελίῳ ἐναλίγκιον ἠὲ σελήνῃ,
καὶ τότε δή ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆα κακός ποθεν ἤγαγε δαίμων
ἀγροῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιήν, ὅθι δώματα ναῖε συβώτης.
ἔνθʼ ἦλθεν φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,
ἐκ Πύλου ἠμαθόεντος ἰὼν σὺν νηῒ μελαίνῃ·
τὼ δὲ μνηστῆρσιν θάνατον κακὸν ἀρτύναντε
ἵκοντο προτὶ ἄστυ περικλυτόν, ἦ τοι Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὕστερος, αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος πρόσθʼ ἡγεμόνευε.
τὸν δὲ συβώτης ἦγε κακὰ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα,
πτωχῷ λευγαλέῳ ἐναλίγκιον ἠδὲ γέροντι
σκηπτόμενον· τὰ δὲ λυγρὰ περὶ χροῒ εἵματα ἕστο·
οὐδέ τις ἡμείων δύνατο γνῶναι τὸν ἐόντα
ἐξαπίνης προφανέντʼ, οὐδʼ οἳ προγενέστεροι ἦσαν,
ἀλλʼ ἔπεσίν τε κακοῖσιν ἐνίσσομεν ἠδὲ βολῇσιν.
αὐτὰρ ὁ τῆος ἐτόλμα ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἑοῖσι
βαλλόμενος καὶ ἐνισσόμενος τετληότι θυμῷ·
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή μιν ἔγειρε Διὸς νοός αἰγιόχοιο,
σὺν μὲν Τηλεμάχῳ περικαλλέα τεύχεʼ ἀείρας
ἐς θάλαμον κατέθηκε καὶ ἐκλήϊσεν ὀχῆας,
αὐτὰρ ὁ ἣν ἄλοχον πολυκερδείῃσιν ἄνωγε
τόξον μνηστήρεσσι θέμεν πολιόν τε σίδηρον,
ἡμῖν αἰνομόροισιν ἀέθλια καὶ φόνου ἀρχήν.
οὐδέ τις ἡμείων δύνατο κρατεροῖο βιοῖο
νευρὴν ἐντανύσαι, πολλὸν δʼ ἐπιδευέες ἦμεν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε χεῖρας ἵκανεν Ὀδυσσῆος μέγα τόξον,
ἔνθʼ ἡμεῖς μὲν πάντες ὁμοκλέομεν ἐπέεσσι
τόξον μὴ δόμεναι, μηδʼ εἰ μάλα πολλʼ ἀγορεύοι·
Τηλέμαχος δέ μιν οἶος ἐποτρύνων ἐκέλευσεν.
αὐτὰρ ὁ δέξατο χειρὶ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
ῥηϊδίως δʼ ἐτάνυσσε βιόν, διὰ δʼ ἧκε σιδήρου,
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰών, ταχέας δʼ ἐκχεύατʼ ὀϊστοὺς
δεινὸν παπταίνων, βάλε δʼ Ἀντίνοον βασιλῆα.
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτʼ ἄλλοις ἐφίει βέλεα στονόεντα,
ἄντα τιτυσκόμενος· τοὶ δʼ ἀγχιστῖνοι ἔπιπτον.
γνωτὸν δʼ ἦν ὅ ῥά τίς σφι θεῶν ἐπιτάρροθος ἦεν·
αὐτίκα γὰρ κατὰ δώματʼ ἐπισπόμενοι μένεϊ σφῷ
κτεῖνον ἐπιστροφάδην, τῶν δὲ στόνος ὤρνυτʼ ἀεικὴς
κράτων τυπτομένων, δάπεδον δʼ ἅπαν αἵματι θῦεν.
ὣς ἡμεῖς, Ἀγάμεμνον, ἀπωλόμεθʼ, ὧν ἔτι καὶ νῦν
σώματʼ ἀκηδέα κεῖται ἐνὶ μεγάροις Ὀδυσῆος·
οὐ γάρ πω ἴσασι φίλοι κατὰ δώμαθʼ ἑκάστου,
οἵ κʼ ἀπονίψαντες μέλανα βρότον ἐξ ὠτειλέων
κατθέμενοι γοάοιεν· ὃ γὰρ γέρας ἐστὶ θανόντων.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀτρεΐδαο·
ὄλβιε Λαέρταο πάϊ, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
ἦ ἄρα σὺν μεγάλῃ ἀρετῇ ἐκτήσω ἄκοιτιν.
ὡς ἀγαθαὶ φρένες ἦσαν ἀμύμονι Πηνελοπείῃ,
κούρῃ Ἰκαρίου· ὡς εὖ μέμνητʼ Ὀδυσῆος,
ἀνδρὸς κουριδίου· τῷ οἱ κλέος οὔ ποτʼ ὀλεῖται
ἧς ἀρετῆς, τεύξουσι δʼ ἐπιχθονίοισιν ἀοιδὴν
ἀθάνατοι χαρίεσσαν ἐχέφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,
οὐχ ὡς Τυνδαρέου κούρη κακὰ μήσατο ἔργα,
κουρίδιον κτείνασα πόσιν, στυγερὴ δέ τʼ ἀοιδὴ
ἔσσετʼ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους, χαλεπὴν δέ τε φῆμιν ὀπάσσει
θηλυτέρῃσι γυναιξί, καὶ ἥ κʼ εὐεργὸς ἔῃσιν.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
ἑσταότʼ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοις, ὑπὸ κεύθεσι γαίης·
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ἐκ πόλιος κατέβαν, τάχα δʼ ἀγρὸν ἵκοντο
καλὸν Λαέρταο τετυγμένον, ὅν ῥά ποτʼ αὐτὸς
Λαέρτης κτεάτισσεν, ἐπεὶ μάλα πόλλʼ ἐμόγησεν.
ἔνθα οἱ οἶκος ἔην, περὶ δὲ κλίσιον θέε πάντη,
ἐν τῷ σιτέσκοντο καὶ ἵζανον ἠδὲ ἴαυον
δμῶες ἀναγκαῖοι, τοί οἱ φίλα ἐργάζοντο.
ἐν δὲ γυνὴ Σικελὴ γρηῢς πέλεν, ἥ ῥα γέροντα
ἐνδυκέως κομέεσκεν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ, νόσφι πόληος.
ἔνθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς δμώεσσι καὶ υἱέϊ μῦθον ἔειπεν·
ὑμεῖς μὲν νῦν ἔλθετʼ ἐϋκτίμενον δόμον εἴσω,
δεῖπνον δʼ αἶψα συῶν ἱερεύσατε ὅς τις ἄριστος·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ πατρὸς πειρήσομαι ἡμετέροιο,
αἴ κέ μʼ ἐπιγνώῃ καὶ φράσσεται ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
ἦέ κεν ἀγνοιῇσι, πολὺν χρόνον ἀμφὶς ἐόντα.
ὣς εἰπὼν δμώεσσιν ἀρήϊα τεύχεʼ ἔδωκεν.
οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα δόμονδε θοῶς κίον, αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἆσσον ἴεν πολυκάρπου ἀλωῆς πειρητίζων.
οὐδʼ εὗρεν Δολίον, μέγαν ὄρχατον ἐσκαταβαίνων,
οὐδέ τινα δμώων οὐδʼ υἱῶν· ἀλλʼ ἄρα τοί γε
αἱμασιὰς λέξοντες ἀλωῆς ἔμμεναι ἕρκος
ᾤχοντʼ, αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσι γέρων ὁδὸν ἡγεμόνευε.
τὸν δʼ οἶον πατέρʼ εὗρεν ἐϋκτιμένῃ ἐν ἀλωῇ,
λιστρεύοντα φυτόν· ῥυπόωντα δὲ ἕστο χιτῶνα
ῥαπτὸν ἀεικέλιον, περὶ δὲ κνήμῃσι βοείας
κνημῖδας ῥαπτὰς δέδετο, γραπτῦς ἀλεείνων,
χειρῖδάς τʼ ἐπὶ χερσὶ βάτων ἕνεκʼ· αὐτὰρ ὕπερθεν
αἰγείην κυνέην κεφαλῇ ἔχε, πένθος ἀέξων.
τὸν δʼ ὡς οὖν ἐνόησε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
γήραϊ τειρόμενον, μέγα δὲ φρεσὶ πένθος ἔχοντα,
στὰς ἄρʼ ὑπὸ βλωθρὴν ὄγχνην κατὰ δάκρυον εἶβε.
μερμήριξε δʼ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμὸν
κύσσαι καὶ περιφῦναι ἑὸν πατέρʼ, ἠδὲ ἕκαστα
εἰπεῖν, ὡς ἔλθοι καὶ ἵκοιτʼ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
ἦ πρῶτʼ ἐξερέοιτο ἕκαστά τε πειρήσαιτο.
ὧδε δέ οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,
πρῶτον κερτομίοις ἐπέεσσιν πειρηθῆναι.
τὰ φρονέων ἰθὺς κίεν αὐτοῦ δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
ἦ τοι ὁ μὲν κατέχων κεφαλὴν φυτὸν ἀμφελάχαινε·
τὸν δὲ παριστάμενος προσεφώνεε φαίδιμος υἱός·
ὦ γέρον, οὐκ ἀδαημονίη σʼ ἔχει ἀμφιπολεύειν
ὄρχατον, ἀλλʼ εὖ τοι κομιδὴ ἔχει, οὐδέ τι πάμπαν,
οὐ φυτόν, οὐ συκέη, οὐκ ἄμπελος, οὐ μὲν ἐλαίη,
οὐκ ὄγχνη, οὐ πρασιή τοι ἄνευ κομιδῆς κατὰ κῆπον.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ μὴ χόλον ἔνθεο θυμῷ
αὐτόν σʼ οὐκ ἀγαθὴ κομιδὴ ἔχει, ἀλλʼ ἅμα γῆρας
λυγρὸν ἔχεις αὐχμεῖς τε κακῶς καὶ ἀεικέα ἕσσαι.
οὐ μὲν ἀεργίης γε ἄναξ ἕνεκʼ οὔ σε κομίζει,
οὐδέ τί τοι δούλειον ἐπιπρέπει εἰσοράασθαι
εἶδος καὶ μέγεθος· βασιλῆϊ γὰρ ἀνδρὶ ἔοικας.
τοιούτῳ δὲ ἔοικας, ἐπεὶ λούσαιτο φάγοι τε,
εὑδέμεναι μαλακῶς· ἡ γὰρ δίκη ἐστὶ γερόντων.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
τεῦ δμὼς εἶς ἀνδρῶν; τεῦ δʼ ὄρχατον ἀμφιπολεύεις;
καὶ μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ,
εἰ ἐτεόν γʼ Ἰθάκην τήνδʼ ἱκόμεθʼ, ὥς μοι ἔειπεν
οὗτος ἀνὴρ νῦν δὴ ξυμβλήμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἰόντι,
οὔ τι μάλʼ ἀρτίφρων, ἐπεὶ οὐ τόλμησεν ἕκαστα
εἰπεῖν ἠδʼ ἐπακοῦσαι ἐμὸν ἔπος, ὡς ἐρέεινον
ἀμφὶ ξείνῳ ἐμῷ, ἤ που ζώει τε καὶ ἔστιν
ἦ ἤδη τέθνηκε καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισιν.
ἐκ γάρ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο καί μευ ἄκουσον·
ἄνδρα ποτʼ ἐξείνισσα φίλῃ ἐνὶ πατρίδι γαίῃ
ἡμέτερόνδʼ ἐλθόντα, καὶ οὔ πω τις βροτὸς ἄλλος
ξείνων τηλεδαπῶν φιλίων ἐμὸν ἵκετο δῶμα·
εὔχετο δʼ ἐξ Ἰθάκης γένος ἔμμεναι, αὐτὰρ ἔφασκε
Λαέρτην Ἀρκεισιάδην πατέρʼ ἔμμεναι αὐτῷ.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ πρὸς δώματʼ ἄγων ἐῢ ἐξείνισσα,
ἐνδυκέως φιλέων, πολλῶν κατὰ οἶκον ἐόντων,
καί οἱ δῶρα πόρον ξεινήϊα, οἷα ἐῴκει.
χρυσοῦ μέν οἱ δῶκʼ εὐεργέος ἑπτὰ τάλαντα,
δῶκα δέ οἱ κρητῆρα πανάργυρον ἀνθεμόεντα,
δώδεκα δʼ ἁπλοΐδας χλαίνας, τόσσους δὲ τάπητας,
τόσσα δὲ φάρεα καλά, τόσους δʼ ἐπὶ τοῖσι χιτῶνας,
χωρὶς δʼ αὖτε γυναῖκας, ἀμύμονα ἔργα ἰδυίας,
τέσσαρας εἰδαλίμας, ἃς ἤθελεν αὐτὸς ἑλέσθαι.
τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα πατὴρ κατὰ δάκρυον εἴβων·
ξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν γαῖαν ἱκάνεις, ἣν ἐρεείνεις,
ὑβρισταὶ δʼ αὐτὴν καὶ ἀτάσθαλοι ἄνδρες ἔχουσιν·
δῶρα δʼ ἐτώσια ταῦτα χαρίζεο, μυρίʼ ὀπάζων·
εἰ γάρ μιν ζωόν γʼ ἐκίχεις Ἰθάκης ἐνὶ δήμῳ,
τῷ κέν σʼ εὖ δώροισιν ἀμειψάμενος ἀπέπεμψε
καὶ ξενίῃ ἀγαθῇ ἡ γὰρ θέμις, ὅς τις ὑπάρξῃ.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
πόστον δὴ ἔτος ἐστίν, ὅτε ξείνισσας ἐκεῖνον
σὸν ξεῖνον δύστηνον, ἐμὸν παῖδʼ, εἴ ποτʼ ἔην γε,
δύσμορον; ὅν που τῆλε φίλων καὶ πατρίδος αἴης
ἠέ που ἐν πόντῳ φάγον ἰχθύες, ἢ ἐπὶ χέρσου
θηρσὶ καὶ οἰωνοῖσιν ἕλωρ γένετʼ· οὐδέ ἑ μήτηρ
κλαῦσε περιστείλασα πατήρ θʼ, οἵ μιν τεκόμεσθα·
οὐδʼ ἄλοχος πολύδωρος, ἐχέφρων Πηνελόπεια,
κώκυσʼ ἐν λεχέεσσιν ἑὸν πόσιν, ὡς ἐπεῴκει,
ὀφθαλμοὺς καθελοῦσα· τὸ γὰρ γέρας ἐστὶ θανόντων.
καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ·
τίς πόθεν εἶς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;
ποῦ δὲ νηῦς ἕστηκε θοή, ἥ σʼ ἤγαγε δεῦρο
ἀντιθέους θʼ ἑτάρους; ἦ ἔμπορος εἰλήλουθας
νηὸς ἐπʼ ἀλλοτρίης, οἱ δʼ ἐκβήσαντες ἔβησαν;
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι πάντα μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως καταλέξω.
εἰμὶ μὲν ἐξ Ἀλύβαντος, ὅθι κλυτὰ δώματα ναίω,
υἱὸς Ἀφείδαντος Πολυπημονίδαο ἄνακτος·
αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γʼ ὄνομʼ ἐστὶν Ἐπήριτος· ἀλλά με δαίμων
πλάγξʼ ἀπὸ Σικανίης δεῦρʼ ἐλθέμεν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα·
νηῦς δέ μοι ἥδʼ ἕστηκεν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ νόσφι πόληος.
αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆϊ τόδε δὴ πέμπτον ἔτος ἐστίν,
ἐξ οὗ κεῖθεν ἔβη καὶ ἐμῆς ἀπελήλυθε πάτρης,
δύσμορος· ἦ τέ οἱ ἐσθλοὶ ἔσαν ὄρνιθες ἰόντι,
δεξιοί, οἷς χαίρων μὲν ἐγὼν ἀπέπεμπον ἐκεῖνον,
χαῖρε δὲ κεῖνος ἰών· θυμὸς δʼ ἔτι νῶϊν ἐώλπει
μίξεσθαι ξενίῃ ἠδʼ ἀγλαὰ δῶρα διδώσειν.
ὣς φάτο, τὸν δʼ ἄχεος νεφέλη ἐκάλυψε μέλαινα·
ἀμφοτέρῃσι δὲ χερσὶν ἑλὼν κόνιν αἰθαλόεσσαν
χεύατο κὰκ κεφαλῆς πολιῆς, ἁδινὰ στεναχίζων.
τοῦ δʼ ὠρίνετο θυμός, ἀνὰ ῥῖνας δέ οἱ ἤδη
δριμὺ μένος προὔτυψε φίλον πατέρʼ εἰσορόωντι.
κύσσε δέ μιν περιφὺς ἐπιάλμενος, ἠδὲ προσηύδα·
κεῖνος μέν τοι ὅδʼ αὐτὸς ἐγώ, πάτερ, ὃν σὺ μεταλλᾷς,
ἤλυθον εἰκοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ἀλλʼ ἴσχεο κλαυθμοῖο γόοιό τε δακρυόεντος.
ἐκ γάρ τοι ἐρέω· μάλα δὲ χρὴ σπευδέμεν ἔμπης·
μνηστῆρας κατέπεφνον ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισι,
λώβην τινύμενος θυμαλγέα καὶ κακὰ ἔργα.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Λαέρτης ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
εἰ μὲν δὴ Ὀδυσεύς γε ἐμὸς πάϊς ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνεις,
σῆμά τί μοι νῦν εἰπὲ ἀριφραδές, ὄφρα πεποίθω.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
οὐλὴν μὲν πρῶτον τήνδε φράσαι ὀφθαλμοῖσι,
τὴν ἐν Παρνησῷ μʼ ἔλασεν σῦς λευκῷ ὀδόντι
οἰχόμενον· σὺ δέ με προΐεις καὶ πότνια μήτηρ
ἐς πατέρʼ Αὐτόλυκον μητρὸς φίλον, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἑλοίμην
δῶρα, τὰ δεῦρο μολών μοι ὑπέσχετο καὶ κατένευσεν.
εἰ δʼ ἄγε τοι καὶ δένδρεʼ ἐϋκτιμένην κατʼ ἀλωὴν
εἴπω, ἅ μοί ποτʼ ἔδωκας, ἐγὼ δʼ ᾔτεόν σε ἕκαστα
παιδνὸς ἐών, κατὰ κῆπον ἐπισπόμενος· διὰ δʼ αὐτῶν
ἱκνεύμεσθα, σὺ δʼ ὠνόμασας καὶ ἔειπες ἕκαστα.
ὄγχνας μοι δῶκας τρισκαίδεκα καὶ δέκα μηλέας,
συκέας τεσσαράκοντʼ· ὄρχους δέ μοι ὧδʼ ὀνόμηνας
δώσειν πεντήκοντα, διατρύγιος δὲ ἕκαστος
ἤην· ἔνθα δʼ ἀνὰ σταφυλαὶ παντοῖαι ἔασιν—
ὁππότε δὴ Διὸς ὧραι ἐπιβρίσειαν ὕπερθεν.
ὣς φάτο, τοῦ δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,
σήματʼ ἀναγνόντος τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.
ἀμφὶ δὲ παιδὶ φίλῳ βάλε πήχεε· τὸν δὲ ποτὶ οἷ
εἷλεν ἀποψύχοντα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἄμπνυτο καὶ ἐς φρένα θυμὸς ἀγέρθη,
ἐξαῦτις μύθοισιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·
Ζεῦ πάτερ, ἦ ῥα ἔτʼ ἔστε θεοὶ κατὰ μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον,
εἰ ἐτεὸν μνηστῆρες ἀτάσθαλον ὕβριν ἔτισαν.
νῦν δʼ αἰνῶς δείδοικα κατὰ φρένα μὴ τάχα πάντες
ἐνθάδʼ ἐπέλθωσιν Ἰθακήσιοι, ἀγγελίας δὲ
πάντη ἐποτρύνωσι Κεφαλλήνων πολίεσσι.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
θάρσει, μή τοι ταῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι μελόντων.
ἀλλʼ ἴομεν προτὶ οἶκον, ὃς ὀρχάτου ἐγγύθι κεῖται·
ἔνθα δὲ Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην
προὔπεμψʼ, ὡς ἂν δεῖπνον ἐφοπλίσσωσι τάχιστα.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσαντε βάτην πρὸς δώματα καλά.
οἱ δʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἵκοντο δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,
εὗρον Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην
ταμνομένους κρέα πολλὰ κερῶντάς τʼ αἴθοπα οἶνον.
τόφρα δὲ Λαέρτην μεγαλήτορα ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
ἀμφίπολος Σικελὴ λοῦσεν καὶ χρῖσεν ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα χλαῖναν καλὴν βάλεν· αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη
ἄγχι παρισταμένη μέλεʼ ἤλδανε ποιμένι λαῶν,
μείζονα δʼ ἠὲ πάρος καὶ πάσσονα θῆκεν ἰδέσθαι.
ἐκ δʼ ἀσαμίνθου βῆ· θαύμαζε δέ μιν φίλος υἱός,
ὡς ἴδεν ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιον ἄντην·
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ὦ πάτερ, ἦ μάλα τίς σε θεῶν αἰειγενετάων
εἶδός τε μέγεθός τε ἀμείνονα θῆκεν ἰδέσθαι.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Λαέρτης πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
αἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,
οἷος Νήρικον εἷλον, ἐϋκτίμενον πτολίεθρον,
ἀκτὴν ἠπείροιο, Κεφαλλήνεσσιν ἀνάσσων,
τοῖος ἐών τοι χθιζὸς ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισιν,
τεύχεʼ ἔχων ὤμοισιν, ἐφεστάμεναι καὶ ἀμύνειν
ἄνδρας μνηστῆρας· τῷ κε σφέων γούνατʼ ἔλυσα
πολλῶν ἐν μεγάροισι, σὺ δὲ φρένας ἔνδον ἐγήθεις.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον.
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν παύσαντο πόνου τετύκοντό τε δαῖτα,
ἑξείης ἕζοντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε·
ἔνθʼ οἱ μὲν δείπνῳ ἐπεχείρεον, ἀγχίμολον δὲ
ἦλθʼ ὁ γέρων Δολίος, σὺν δʼ υἱεῖς τοῖο γέροντος,
ἐξ ἔργων μογέοντες, ἐπεὶ προμολοῦσα κάλεσσεν
μήτηρ γρηῦς Σικελή, ἥ σφεας τρέφε καί ῥα γέροντα
ἐνδυκέως κομέεσκεν, ἐπεὶ κατὰ γῆρας ἔμαρψεν.
οἱ δʼ ὡς οὖν Ὀδυσῆα ἴδον φράσσαντό τε θυμῷ,
ἔσταν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι τεθηπότες· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι καθαπτόμενος προσέειπεν·
ὦ γέρον, ἵζʼ ἐπὶ δεῖπνον, ἀπεκλελάθεσθε δὲ θάμβευς·
δηρὸν γὰρ σίτῳ ἐπιχειρήσειν μεμαῶτες
μίμνομεν ἐν μεγάροις, ὑμέας ποτιδέγμενοι αἰεί.
ὣς ἄρ ἔφη, Δολίος δʼ ἰθὺς κίε χεῖρε πετάσσας
ἀμφοτέρας, Ὀδυσεῦς δὲ λαβὼν κύσε χεῖρʼ ἐπὶ καρπῷ,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεὶ νόστησας ἐελδομένοισι μάλʼ ἡμῖν
οὐδʼ ἔτʼ ὀϊομένοισι, θεοὶ δέ σʼ ἀνήγαγον αὐτοί,
οὖλέ τε καὶ μάλα χαῖρε, θεοὶ δέ τοι ὄλβια δοῖεν.
καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ,
ἢ ἤδη σάφα οἶδε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια
νοστήσαντά σε δεῦρʼ, ἦ ἄγγελον ὀτρύνωμεν.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
ὦ γέρον, ἤδη οἶδε· τί σε χρὴ ταῦτα πένεσθαι;
ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αὖτις ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐϋξέστου ἐπὶ δίφρου.
ὣς δʼ αὔτως παῖδες Δολίου κλυτὸν ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα
δεικανόωντʼ ἐπέεσσι καὶ ἐν χείρεσσι φύοντο,
ἑξείης δʼ ἕζοντο παραὶ Δολίον, πατέρα σφόν.
ὣς οἱ μὲν περὶ δεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πένοντο·
Ὄσσα δʼ ἄρʼ ἄγγελος ὦκα κατὰ πτόλιν ᾤχετο πάντη,
μνηστήρων στυγερὸν θάνατον καὶ κῆρʼ ἐνέπουσα.
οἱ δʼ ἄρʼ ὁμῶς ἀΐοντες ἐφοίτων ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος
μυχμῷ τε στοναχῇ τε δόμων προπάροιθʼ Ὀδυσῆος,
ἐκ δὲ νέκυς οἴκων φόρεον καὶ θάπτον ἕκαστοι,
τοὺς δʼ ἐξ ἀλλάων πολίων οἶκόνδε ἕκαστον
πέμπον ἄγειν ἁλιεῦσι θοῇς ἐπὶ νηυσὶ τιθέντες·
αὐτοὶ δʼ εἰς ἀγορὴν κίον ἀθρόοι, ἀχνύμενοι κῆρ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἤγερθεν ὁμηγερέες τʼ ἐγένοντο,
τοῖσιν δʼ Εὐπείθης ἀνά θʼ ἵστατο καὶ μετέειπε·
παιδὸς γάρ οἱ ἄλαστον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ πένθος ἔκειτο,
Ἀντινόου, τὸν πρῶτον ἐνήρατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
τοῦ ὅ γε δάκρυ χέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·
ὦ φίλοι, ἦ μέγα ἔργον ἀνὴρ ὅδʼ ἐμήσατʼ Ἀχαιούς·
τοὺς μὲν σὺν νήεσσιν ἄγων πολέας τε καὶ ἐσθλοὺς
ὤλεσε μὲν νῆας γλαφυράς, ἀπὸ δʼ ὤλεσε λαούς·
τοὺς δʼ ἐλθὼν ἔκτεινε Κεφαλλήνων ὄχʼ ἀρίστους,
ἀλλʼ ἄγετε, πρὶν τοῦτον ἢ ἐς Πύλον ὦκα ἱκέσθαι
ἢ καὶ ἐς Ἤλιδα δῖαν, ὅθι κρατέουσιν Ἐπειοί,
ἴομεν· ἦ καὶ ἔπειτα κατηφέες ἐσσόμεθʼ αἰεί·
λώβη γὰρ τάδε γʼ ἐστὶ καὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι,
εἰ δὴ μὴ παίδων τε κασιγνήτων τε φονῆας
τισόμεθʼ. οὐκ ἂν ἐμοί γε μετὰ φρεσὶν ἡδὺ γένοιτο
ζωέμεν, ἀλλὰ τάχιστα θανὼν φθιμένοισι μετείην.
ἀλλʼ ἴομεν, μὴ φθέωσι περαιωθέντες ἐκεῖνοι.
ὣς φάτο δάκρυ χέων, οἶκτος δʼ ἕλε πάντας Ἀχαιούς.
ἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε Μέδων καὶ θεῖος ἀοιδὸς
ἐκ μεγάρων Ὀδυσῆος, ἐπεί σφεας ὕπνος ἀνῆκεν,
ἔσταν δʼ ἐν μέσσοισι· τάφος δʼ ἕλεν ἄνδρα ἕκαστον.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·
κέκλυτε δὴ νῦν μευ, Ἰθακήσιοι· οὐ γὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἀθανάτων ἀέκητι θεῶν τάδʼ ἐμήσατο ἔργα·
αὐτὸς ἐγὼν εἶδον θεὸν ἄμβροτον, ὅς ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ
ἐγγύθεν ἑστήκει καὶ Μέντορι πάντα ἐῴκει.
ἀθάνατος δὲ θεὸς τοτὲ μὲν προπάροιθʼ Ὀδυσῆος
φαίνετο θαρσύνων, τοτὲ δὲ μνηστῆρας ὀρίνων
θῦνε κατὰ μέγαρον· τοὶ δʼ ἀγχιστῖνοι ἔπιπτον.
ὣς φάτο, τοὺς δʼ ἄρα πάντας ὑπὸ χλωρὸν δέος ᾕρει.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε γέρων ἥρως Ἁλιθέρσης
Μαστορίδης· ὁ γὰρ οἶος ὅρα πρόσσω καὶ ὀπίσσω·
ὅ σφιν ἐϋφρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·
κέκλυτε δὴ νῦν μευ, Ἰθακήσιοι, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·
ὑμετέρῃ κακότητι, φίλοι, τάδε ἔργα γένοντο·
οὐ γὰρ ἐμοὶ πείθεσθʼ, οὐ Μέντορι ποιμένι λαῶν,
ὑμετέρους παῖδας καταπαυέμεν ἀφροσυνάων,
οἳ μέγα ἔργον ἔρεξαν ἀτασθαλίῃσι κακῇσι,
κτήματα κείροντες καὶ ἀτιμάζοντες ἄκοιτιν
ἀνδρὸς ἀριστῆος· τὸν δʼ οὐκέτι φάντο νέεσθαι.
καὶ νῦν ὧδε γένοιτο. πίθεσθέ μοι ὡς ἀγορεύω·
μὴ ἴομεν, μή πού τις ἐπίσπαστον κακὸν εὕρῃ.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρʼ ἀνήϊξαν μεγάλῳ ἀλαλητῷ
ἡμίσεων πλείους· τοὶ δʼ ἀθρόοι αὐτόθι μίμνον·
οὐ γάρ σφιν ἅδε μῦθος ἐνὶ φρεσίν, ἀλλʼ Εὐπείθει
πείθοντʼ· αἶψα δʼ ἔπειτʼ ἐπὶ τεύχεα ἐσσεύοντο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἕσσαντο περὶ χροῒ νώροπα χαλκόν,
ἀθρόοι ἠγερέθοντο πρὸ ἄστεος εὐρυχόροιο.
τοῖσιν δʼ Εὐπείθης ἡγήσατο νηπιέῃσι·
φῆ δʼ ὅ γε τίσεσθαι παιδὸς φόνον, οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔμελλεν
ἂψ ἀπονοστήσειν, ἀλλʼ αὐτοῦ πότμον ἐφέψειν.
αὐτὰρ Ἀθηναίη Ζῆνα Κρονίωνα προσηύδα·
ὦ πάτερ ἡμέτερε, Κρονίδη, ὕπατε κρειόντων,
εἰπέ μοι εἰρομένῃ, τί νύ τοι νόος ἔνδοθι κεύθει;
ἢ προτέρω πόλεμόν τε κακὸν καὶ φύλοπιν αἰνὴν
τεύξεις, ἦ φιλότητα μετʼ ἀμφοτέροισι τίθησθα;
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
τέκνον ἐμόν, τί με ταῦτα διείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς;
οὐ γὰρ δὴ τοῦτον μὲν ἐβούλευσας νόον αὐτή,
ὡς ἦ τοι κείνους Ὀδυσεὺς ἀποτίσεται ἐλθών;
ἔρξον ὅπως ἐθέλεις· ἐρέω τέ τοι ὡς ἐπέοικεν.
ἐπεὶ δὴ μνηστῆρας ἐτίσατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
ὅρκια πιστὰ ταμόντες ὁ μὲν βασιλευέτω αἰεί,
ἡμεῖς δʼ αὖ παίδων τε κασιγνήτων τε φόνοιο
ἔκλησιν θέωμεν· τοὶ δʼ ἀλλήλους φιλεόντων
ὡς τὸ πάρος, πλοῦτος δὲ καὶ εἰρήνη ἅλις ἔστω.
ὣς εἰπὼν ὤτρυνε πάρος μεμαυῖαν Ἀθήνην,
βῆ δὲ κατʼ Οὐλύμποιο καρήνων ἀΐξασα.
οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν σίτοιο μελίφρονος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
τοῖς δʼ ἄρα μύθων ἦρχε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
ἐξελθών τις ἴδοι μὴ δὴ σχεδὸν ὦσι κιόντες.
ὣς ἔφατʼ· ἐκ δʼ υἱὸς Δολίου κίεν, ὡς ἐκέλευεν·
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰών, τοὺς δὲ σχεδὸν εἴσιδε πάντας·
αἶψα δʼ Ὀδυσσῆα ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
οἵδε δὴ ἐγγὺς ἔασʼ· ἀλλʼ ὁπλιζώμεθα θᾶσσον.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ὤρνυντο καὶ ἐν τεύχεσσι δύοντο,
τέσσαρες ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ, ἓξ δʼ υἱεῖς οἱ Δολίοιο·
ἐν δʼ ἄρα Λαέρτης Δολίος τʼ ἐς τεύχεʼ ἔδυνον,
καὶ πολιοί περ ἐόντες, ἀναγκαῖοι πολεμισταί.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἕσσαντο περὶ χροῒ νώροπα χαλκόν,
ὤϊξάν ῥα θύρας, ἐκ δʼ ἤϊον, ἦρχε δʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.
τοῖσι δʼ ἐπʼ ἀγχίμολον θυγάτηρ Διὸς ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη
Μέντορι εἰδομένη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ αὐδήν.
τὴν μὲν ἰδὼν γήθησε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
αἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον προσεφώνεεν ὃν φίλον υἱόν·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἤδη μὲν τόδε γʼ εἴσεαι αὐτὸς ἐπελθών,
ἀνδρῶν μαρναμένων ἵνα τε κρίνονται ἄριστοι,
μή τι καταισχύνειν πατέρων γένος, οἳ τὸ πάρος περ
ἀλκῇ τʼ ἠνορέῃ τε κεκάσμεθα πᾶσαν ἐπʼ αἶαν.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ὄψεαι, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα, πάτερ φίλε, τῷδʼ ἐπὶ θυμῷ
οὔ τι καταισχύνοντα τεὸν γένος, ὡς ἀγορεύεις.
ὣς φάτο, Λαέρτης δʼ ἐχάρη καὶ μῦθον ἔειπε·
τίς νύ μοι ἡμέρη ἥδε, θεοὶ φίλοι; ἦ μάλα χαίρω·
υἱός θʼ υἱωνός τʼ ἀρετῆς πέρι δῆριν ἔχουσιν.
τὸν δὲ παρισταμένη προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
ὦ Ἀρκεισιάδη, πάντων πολὺ φίλταθʼ ἑταίρων,
εὐξάμενος κούρῃ γλαυκώπιδι καὶ Διὶ πατρί,
αἶψα μαλʼ ἀμπεπαλὼν προΐει δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος.
ὣς φάτο, καί ῥʼ ἔμπνευσε μένος μέγα Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
εὐξάμενος δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα Διὸς κούρῃ μεγάλοιο,
αἶψα μάλʼ ἀμπεπαλὼν προΐει δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος,
καὶ βάλεν Εὐπείθεα κόρυθος διὰ χαλκοπαρῄου.
ἡ δʼ οὐκ ἔγχος ἔρυτο, διαπρὸ δὲ εἴσατο χαλκός,
δούπησεν δὲ πεσών, ἀράβησε δὲ τεύχεʼ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ.
ἐν δʼ ἔπεσον προμάχοις Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ φαίδιμος υἱός,
τύπτον δὲ ξίφεσίν τε καὶ ἔγχεσιν ἀμφιγύοισι.
καί νύ κε δὴ πάντας ὄλεσαν καὶ ἔθηκαν ἀνόστους,
εἰ μὴ Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο,
ἤϋσεν φωνῇ, κατὰ δʼ ἔσχεθε λαὸν ἅπαντα.
ἴσχεσθε πτολέμου, Ἰθακήσιοι, ἀργαλέοιο,
ὥς κεν ἀναιμωτί γε διακρινθῆτε τάχιστα.
ὣς φάτʼ Ἀθηναίη, τοὺς δὲ χλωρὸν δέος εἷλεν·
τῶν δʼ ἄρα δεισάντων ἐκ χειρῶν ἔπτατο τεύχεα,
πάντα δʼ ἐπὶ χθονὶ πῖπτε, θεᾶς ὄπα φωνησάσης·
πρὸς δὲ πόλιν τρωπῶντο λιλαιόμενοι βιότοιο.
σμερδαλέον δʼ ἐβόησε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
οἴμησεν δὲ ἀλεὶς ὥς τʼ αἰετὸς ὑψιπετήεις.
καὶ τότε δὴ Κρονίδης ἀφίει ψολόεντα κεραυνόν,
κὰδ δʼ ἔπεσε πρόσθε γλαυκώπιδος ὀβριμοπάτρης.
δὴ τότʼ Ὀδυσσῆα προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
ἴσχεο, παῦε δὲ νεῖκος ὁμοιΐου πολέμοιο,
μή πως τοι Κρονίδης κεχολώσεται εὐρύοπα Ζεύς.
ὣς φάτʼ Ἀθηναίη, ὁ δʼ ἐπείθετο, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ.
ὅρκια δʼ αὖ κατόπισθε μετʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἔθηκεν
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο,
Μέντορι εἰδομένη ἠμὲν δέμας ἠδὲ καὶ αὐδήν.

## Translation — Mouseia

> 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.

### Book 1

Tell me, Muse, of the man of many turns, who wandered far and wide
after he sacked the sacred citadel of Troy.
He saw the cities of many men and came to know their minds,
and upon the sea he suffered many griefs in his own heart,
struggling for his own life and the homecoming of his companions.
Yet even so he could not save his companions, though he longed to:
they perished by their own blind recklessness,
the fools, who devoured the cattle of Helios Hyperion;
and he took from them the day of their homecoming.
Tell us of these things too, goddess, daughter of Zeus, from wherever you will.
Then all the others, as many as had escaped sheer destruction,
were at home, having fled both war and the sea.
But him alone, longing for his homecoming and his wife,
the queenly nymph Calypso, shining among goddesses, held back
in her hollow caves, longing that he be her husband.
But when the year came round in the circling of the seasons,
in which the gods had spun that he should go home,
to Ithaca, even there he was not yet free of trials,
nor among his own people. And all the gods pitied him
except Poseidon; and he raged unceasingly
against godlike Odysseus, before he reached his own land.
But he had gone far off to visit the Ethiopians,
the Ethiopians, who are split in two, the farthest of men,
some where Hyperion sets, and some where he rises,
to receive a hecatomb of bulls and rams.
There he took his pleasure, sitting at the feast; but the others
were gathered together in the halls of Olympian Zeus.
And among them the father of gods and men began the speech;
for he remembered in his heart blameless Aegisthus,
whom far-famed Orestes, son of Agamemnon, had killed.
Remembering him, he spoke his words to the deathless gods:
"Oh, how mortals blame the gods!
They say their evils come from us, yet they themselves,
through their own recklessness, have sorrows beyond their fate,
as now Aegisthus, beyond his fate, married the wife of Atreus' son
and killed him when he came home,
though he knew sheer destruction was coming, for we told him beforehand,
sending Hermes, the keen-sighted slayer of Argus,
that he should neither kill the man nor court his wife;
for from Orestes would come vengeance for the son of Atreus,
once he came of age and longed for his own land.
So spoke Hermes, but he did not persuade the mind of Aegisthus,
good as his counsel was; and now he has paid for it all at once."
Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him:
"Father of ours, son of Cronus, highest of lords,
he indeed lies in a death that suits him;
so may any other perish who does such things.
But my heart is torn for Odysseus, the shrewd fighter,
the unlucky man, who suffers griefs so long, far from his loved ones,
on a sea-girt island, where the navel of the sea is,
a wooded island; and a goddess has her home there,
the daughter of Atlas of the baneful mind, who knows
the depths of every sea, and who himself holds the long pillars
that keep earth and heaven apart.
His daughter keeps the unhappy man back as he weeps,
ever charming him with soft, wheedling words
so that he may forget Ithaca; but Odysseus,
longing even to see the smoke leaping up
from his own land, longs to die. And does your heart not stir
at all, Olympian? Did Odysseus not please you
beside the Argive ships, offering you pleasing sacrifice,
in wide Troy? Why are you so angry at him, Zeus?"
And Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered her:
"My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth!
How could I then forget godlike Odysseus,
who is beyond all mortals in understanding, and who has given
sacrifices beyond measure to the deathless gods who hold wide heaven?
But Poseidon, the earth-holder, is forever unrelentingly
angry about the Cyclops, whom he blinded in the eye,
godlike Polyphemus, whose strength is greatest
of all the Cyclopes; and the nymph Thoosa bore him,
daughter of Phorcys, ruler of the barren sea,
in hollow caves, having lain with Poseidon.
From that time on, Poseidon the earth-shaker
does not kill Odysseus, but drives him wandering from his homeland.
Come then, let us all here take thought together
for his homecoming, how he may return; and Poseidon will let go
his wrath; for he will not be able to contend against all
the deathless gods alone, against their will."
Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him:
"Father of ours, son of Cronus, highest of lords,
if this is now dear to the blessed gods,
that Odysseus of many thoughts return to his own house,
then let us send Hermes, the guide, the slayer of Argus,
to the island of Ogygia, so that he may quickly
tell the fair-tressed nymph our unerring counsel,
the homecoming of steadfast Odysseus, that he may return.
But I will go to Ithaca, so that I may stir up his son
the more, and put strength in his heart,
and that he may call the long-haired Achaeans to assembly
and speak out against all the suitors, who are forever
slaughtering his thick flocks and his rolling-gaited, crumple-horned cattle.
And I will send him to Sparta and to sandy Pylos
to ask about his dear father's homecoming, if he may hear news somewhere,
and so that men may hold him in good repute."
So speaking, she bound under her feet her beautiful sandals,
immortal, golden, which carried her both over the wet
sea and over the boundless land along with the breath of the wind.
She took up her sturdy spear, tipped with sharp bronze,
heavy, huge, and solid, with which she subdues the ranks of men,
the heroes, whenever the daughter of the mighty father is angry with them.
She sprang down from the peaks of Olympus
and stood in the land of Ithaca, at the doorway of Odysseus' house,
on the courtyard threshold; and in her hand she held her bronze spear,
looking like a stranger, Mentes, leader of the Taphians.
She found the proud suitors. These were amusing
their hearts with draughts in front of the doors,
sitting on the hides of oxen they had killed themselves;
and heralds and busy attendants,
some were mixing wine and water in the bowls,
while others wiped the tables with porous sponges
and set them out, and others carved great quantities of meat.
Godlike Telemachus saw her first, long before the others,
for he sat among the suitors, sick at heart,
picturing in his mind his noble father, if somehow he might come
and scatter the suitors through the house,
and himself win honor and be master in his own house.
Thinking these things as he sat among the suitors, he caught sight of Athena.
He went straight to the doorway, and was vexed at heart
that a stranger had stood so long at the doors; and standing near,
he took her right hand and received her bronze spear,
and spoke aloud, and winged words flew from him:
"Hail, stranger; you shall be welcomed among us; and afterwards,
when you have tasted dinner, you shall tell us what you need."
So speaking he led the way, and Pallas Athena followed him.
And when they were inside the high-roofed house,
he carried her spear and stood it against a tall pillar
inside the well-polished spear-rack, where many other spears
of steadfast Odysseus stood.
He led her to a seat and set her in it, spreading a linen cloth beneath,
a beautiful, intricate chair; and there was a footstool beneath her feet.
Beside her he set his own inlaid chair, away from the others,
the suitors, lest the stranger be annoyed by the uproar
and take no pleasure in the meal, being among such overweening men,
and so that he might ask her about his father, who was gone.
A handmaid brought a pitcher and poured water over their hands
from a beautiful golden jug, over a silver basin,
for them to wash; and she drew up a polished table beside them.
And the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,
adding many dishes, freely giving of what was there;
and the carver lifted up platters of meat of every kind
and set them before them, and placed golden cups beside them;
and a herald came and went, pouring their wine.
Then the proud suitors came in. They sat down
in order, on the chairs and seats,
and heralds poured water over their hands,
and slave women heaped bread in baskets,
and young men filled the mixing bowls to the brim with drink.
They flung their hands upon the ready food set before them.
But when they had put away their desire for drink and food,
the suitors, other things were on their minds,
song and dancing, for these are the crowning of a feast.
And the herald put a beautiful lyre into the hands
of Phemius, who sang for the suitors under compulsion.
He struck the strings and began to sing a beautiful song.
But Telemachus spoke to grey-eyed Athena,
holding his head close, so the others would not hear:
"Dear stranger, will you be angry with me for what I say?
These men care for this, the lyre and the song,
easily, since they devour another man's livelihood without payment,
a man whose white bones surely rot in the rain
somewhere on the mainland, or the waves roll them in the sea.
If they saw that man come home to Ithaca,
they would all pray to be lighter on their feet
rather than richer in gold and clothing.
But now he has perished by an evil fate, and there is no comfort
for us, even if someone among the earthbound mortals
says he will come; his day of homecoming is gone.
But come, tell me this, and recount it accurately:
who among men are you, and from where? Where is your city and your parents?
On what kind of ship did you arrive? How did the sailors
bring you to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be?
For I do not think you came here on foot.
And tell me this truly, so that I may know well,
whether you are a new guest, or a guest-friend of my father's house
from the beginning; for many men used to come to our house,
since that man too was much given to travelling among people."
Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him:
"Then I will tell you all this quite accurately.
I claim to be Mentes, son of shrewd Anchialus,
and I rule over the Taphians, who love their oars.
I have come down here now with my ship and my companions,
sailing over the wine-dark sea to men of other speech,
to Temesa for bronze, and I am carrying gleaming iron.
My ship lies out in the countryside, away from the city,
in the harbor of Rheithron, under wooded Neion.
We claim to be guest-friends of one another from our fathers' time,
from the beginning, if you go and ask the old man,
the hero Laertes, who, they say, no longer comes into the city,
but far off in the countryside endures his sorrows
with an old woman for a servant, who gives him food and drink
whenever weariness seizes his limbs
as he creeps along the slope of his vineyard.
I have come now; for they said he was here in his own land,
your father; but the gods are thwarting him on his road.
For godlike Odysseus has not yet died on this earth,
but is still alive somewhere, held back on the wide sea,
on a sea-girt island, and harsh men hold him there,
wild men, who hold him there against his will.
But now I will prophesy to you, as the immortals put it
in my heart, and as I think it will be accomplished,
though I am no prophet, nor one who reads birds clearly.
He will not be long away from his dear homeland,
not even if iron bonds hold him;
he will find a way to return, for he is full of devices.
But come, tell me this, and recount it accurately:
are you really so tall a son of Odysseus himself?
You are wonderfully like him in your head and your beautiful eyes,
for we often met with one another,
before he went up to Troy, where the other
best of the Argives went in their hollow ships;
and since then I have not seen Odysseus, nor he me."
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered her:
"Then I will tell you, stranger, quite accurately.
My mother says I am his; but I myself
do not know; for no one has ever known his own parentage.
How I wish I were the son of some blessed man,
a man whom old age came upon among his own possessions.
But now, the son of that most ill-fated of mortal men,
that is what they say I am, since you ask me this."
Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him:
"The gods have not made your line nameless for the future,
since Penelope bore you as you are.
But come, tell me this, and recount it accurately:
what feast is this, what gathering is here? What do you need?
A banquet, or a wedding? For this is no common meal where each brings his share;
they seem to me to be behaving with outrageous arrogance
as they feast through the house. Any man of sense would be indignant
who came among them and saw such shameful things."
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered her:
"Stranger, since you ask me these things and question me,
this house was once bound to be wealthy and blameless,
as long as that man was still here in the land;
but now the gods, devising evil, have willed it otherwise,
they have made that man unseen, past the knowledge of all
men; for I would not grieve so much if he had died,
if he had fallen among his companions in the land of the Trojans,
or in the hands of his loved ones, after he had wound up the war.
Then the Panachaeans would have made him a tomb,
and he would have won great glory for his son in time to come.
But now the Harpies have snatched him away without glory;
he is gone, unseen, unheard of, and to me pains and laments
he has left. And I do not groan only for him, mourning him,
since the gods have fashioned other evil cares for me.
For as many nobles as hold sway over the islands,
Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus,
and as many as are lords in rocky Ithaca,
all these court my mother and wear down my house.
She neither refuses the hateful marriage nor can she bring it
to an end; and they waste away my house by eating it,
and soon they will destroy me too."
Then Pallas Athena, in anger, spoke to him:
"Oh, how much you need Odysseus, the man who is gone,
to lay his hands on these shameless suitors!
If only he would come now and stand in the front doors of the house,
with his helmet and shield and two spears,
the way I first saw him,
drinking and making merry in our house,
come from Ephyra, from the house of Ilus, son of Mermerus,
for Odysseus had gone there too in his swift ship,
seeking a man-killing drug, so that he might have it
to smear on his bronze-tipped arrows; but Ilus did not
give it to him, for he feared the everlasting gods;
but my father gave it, for he loved him exceedingly.
If Odysseus came among the suitors like that,
they would all find quick deaths and bitter marriages.
But these things lie on the knees of the gods,
whether he will come home and take vengeance, or not,
in his own halls; and I urge you to take thought
how you may drive the suitors from the hall.
Come now, listen to me and heed my words:
tomorrow, having called the Achaean heroes to assembly,
speak your word to them all, and let the gods be witnesses.
Bid the suitors scatter to their own affairs,
and if your mother's heart urges her to marry,
let her go back to the hall of her powerful father,
and they will arrange a marriage and prepare the bride-gifts,
as many as is fitting to go with a beloved daughter.
And for you yourself I will give you careful counsel, if you will obey:
fit out a ship with twenty rowers, the best you have,
and go to ask about your father, long gone,
in case some mortal tells you something, or you hear a voice
from Zeus, which most of all brings news to men.
First go to Pylos and ask noble Nestor,
then from there to Sparta, to fair-haired Menelaus,
for he came home last of the bronze-clad Achaeans.
If you hear that your father lives and is coming home,
then, though worn down, you might endure another year;
but if you hear that he is dead and gone,
then come home again to your dear native land,
heap up a tomb for him and perform the funeral rites,
all that is fitting, and give your mother to a husband.
And when you have finished and done all this,
then take thought in your mind and heart
how you may kill the suitors in your halls,
either by guile or openly; you must no longer
bear childishness, for you are no longer that age.
Or have you not heard what glory godlike Orestes won
among all men, when he killed his father's murderer,
Aegisthus the treacherous, who killed his glorious father?
And you, my friend, for I see you are handsome and tall,
be brave, so that some man of later days may speak well of you.
But I will go down now to my swift ship
and my companions, who are surely fretting as they wait for me;
and do you take care, and heed my words."
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered her:
"Stranger, you speak these things with kindly feeling,
like a father to his son, and I will never forget them.
But come now, stay a while, eager though you are for the road,
so that, bathed and with your heart cheered,
you may go to your ship with a gift, rejoicing in heart,
a precious thing, very beautiful, which will be a treasure for you
from me, such as dear guest-friends give to guest-friends."
Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him:
"Do not hold me back now, longing as I am for the road.
And whatever gift your dear heart bids you give me,
give it to me when I come back again, to carry home;
choose something very beautiful; it will be worth a return for you."
So speaking, grey-eyed Athena went away,
and flew up and away like a bird; and in his heart
she put strength and courage, and reminded him of his father
more even than before. And he, understanding in his mind,
was amazed in his heart; for he guessed she was a god.
At once the godlike man went back to the suitors.
And the famous singer was singing to them, and they sat
listening in silence; and he sang of the homecoming of the Achaeans,
the sorrowful return from Troy that Pallas Athena had ordained.
And from upstairs the wise daughter of Icarius, Penelope,
heard in her mind the inspired song,
and she came down the high stairs of her house,
not alone, for two handmaids followed with her.
And when the shining woman came to the suitors,
she stood beside the doorpost of the well-built hall,
holding her shining veil in front of her cheeks;
and a faithful handmaid stood on either side of her.
Weeping, she spoke to the godlike singer:
"Phemius, you know many other charms for mortals,
the deeds of men and gods, which singers celebrate.
Sing one of those sitting beside them, and let them drink
their wine in silence; but stop this song,
this sorrowful song, which always wears away the heart
in my breast, since unforgettable grief has come upon me most of all.
For I long for such a head, remembering always
a man whose fame is wide through Hellas and mid-Argos."
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered her:
"Mother, why do you begrudge the faithful singer
his pleasure, wherever his mind moves him? Singers are not
to blame, but Zeus is the cause somewhere, who gives
to toiling men however he wishes, to each one.
For him there is no blame in singing the evil fate of the Danaans;
men praise that song the more
which comes newest to those who hear it.
Let your heart and spirit endure to hear it;
for Odysseus was not the only one who lost his day of homecoming
in Troy; many other men perished too.
But go into the house and attend to your own work,
the loom and the distaff, and tell your handmaids
to go about their work; speech will be the concern of men,
of all men, and most of all of me; for the power in this house is mine."
She, amazed, went back into the house;
for she laid her son's wise words in her heart.
And going up to her chamber with her women attendants,
she wept then for Odysseus, her dear husband, until grey-eyed Athena
cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.
Then the suitors raised an uproar through the shadowy halls,
and all of them prayed to lie beside her in bed.
And thoughtful Telemachus began to speak among them:
"Suitors of my mother, who carry outrageous insolence,
let us now feast and enjoy ourselves, and let there be no shouting,
since it is a fine thing to listen to a singer
such as this one is, whose voice is like the gods'.
But at dawn let us go and sit in the assembly,
all of us, so that I may speak my word to you bluntly:
get out of my halls; and prepare your own feasts elsewhere,
eating your own property, taking turns at one another's houses.
But if this seems better and preferable to you,
that one man's livelihood be destroyed without payment,
then cut it down; and I will call on the everlasting gods,
in the hope that Zeus may grant that deeds be paid back in return;
then you would perish inside these halls, and no longer unpunished."
So he spoke, and all of them bit their lips,
amazed at Telemachus, that he had spoken so boldly.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:
"Telemachus, surely the gods themselves are teaching you
to be a big talker and to speak so boldly.
May the son of Cronus never make you king in sea-girt Ithaca,
though that is your birthright from your father."
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him:
"Antinous, will you be angry with me for what I say?
I would wish to accept that too, if Zeus should grant it.
Do you say this is the worst thing that can befall a man?
Being a king is no bad thing; a man's house quickly grows
wealthy, and he himself is more honored.
But there are other kings of the Achaeans,
many in sea-girt Ithaca, young and old,
and one of them may hold that honor, since godlike Odysseus is dead.
But I will be master of my own house
and of the slaves whom godlike Odysseus won for me."
Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him:
"Telemachus, these things lie on the knees of the gods,
who among the Achaeans will be king in sea-girt Ithaca;
but your own property you may keep, and be master in your own house.
May no man come who, against your will, by force
strips your property from you, while Ithaca is still inhabited.
But I wish to ask you, best of men, about this stranger:
where this man is from, from what land he claims
to be, and where his family and native soil are.
Does he bring some news of your father's coming,
or has he come here on some business of his own?
How he sprang up and was gone at once, and did not wait
to be known; for he did not look like a bad man."
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him:
"Eurymachus, the homecoming of my father is lost;
I no longer trust any message, if one should come,
nor do I heed any prophecy that my mother
may have called a prophet into the hall to ask about.
As for this stranger, he is a guest-friend of my father's, from Taphos,
and he claims to be Mentes, son of shrewd Anchialus,
and he rules over the Taphians, who love their oars."
So spoke Telemachus, and in his mind he knew her for the deathless goddess.
But they turned to dancing and lovely song,
and made merry, waiting for evening to come.
And dark evening came upon them as they made merry;
then each went home to lie down to sleep.
But Telemachus, where his chamber in the beautiful courtyard
was built high in an open space,
there he went to bed, turning many things over in his mind.
And she who knew what was seemly carried the burning torches with him,
Eurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor,
whom Laertes once bought with his own goods
while she was still in her first youth, and he gave twenty oxen for her,
and honored her in his halls as much as his own faithful wife,
but never lay with her, avoiding the anger of his wife.
She carried the burning torches with him, and she loved him
most of all the slave women, and had raised him as a little child.
She opened the doors of the well-built chamber,
and he sat down on the bed, and took off his soft tunic,
and put it into the hands of the wise old woman.
She folded the tunic and smoothed it out,
and hung it on a peg beside the drilled bedstead,
and went out of the chamber, and pulled the door shut by its strap
with its silver handle, and drew the bolt home with the thong.
There all night long, wrapped in a fleece of wool,
he planned in his heart the journey Athena had shown him.

### Book 2

Now when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
the dear son of Odysseus rose from his bed,
clothed in his garments, and slung a sharp sword on his shoulder,
and bound fair sandals under his shining feet,
and went from his chamber, in form like a god.
Straightway he called to the clear-voiced heralds
to summon the long-haired Achaeans to assembly.
They made the summons, and the men gathered swiftly.
But when they had gathered and come together in one place,
he went into the assembly, a bronze spear in his hand,
not alone: with him two swift hounds followed.
And Athena poured wondrous grace upon him.
All the people marveled at him as he came;
he sat in his father's seat, and the elders gave way.
Then the hero Aigyptios began to speak among them,
who was bowed with age and knew countless things.
For his own dear son had gone with godlike Odysseus
to Ilios of the good horses, in the hollow ships,
Antiphos the spearman; and the savage Cyclops killed him
in a hollow cave, and made him his last supper.
Three others he had; one consorted with the suitors,
Eurynomos, and two always worked their father's fields.
But even so he did not forget him, grieving and lamenting.
Shedding tears for him he spoke and addressed them:
Hear me now, men of Ithaca, whatever I shall say:
never has our assembly been held, nor a session,
since the day godlike Odysseus went in the hollow ships.
But now who has called us thus? What need has come
on the young men, or on those who are older?
Has he heard some message of an army coming,
which he would clearly tell us, since he first learned of it?
Or does he disclose and speak of some other public matter?
He seems to me a good man, and a blest one. May Zeus
bring to pass the good thing his heart desires.
So he spoke, and the dear son of Odysseus rejoiced at the word,
and no longer sat still, but longed to speak,
and stood in the middle of the assembly; and a scepter into his hand
the herald Peisenor put, who knew wise counsels.
First then he addressed the old man, speaking to him:
Old man, this man is not far off; soon you shall know it yourself,
who called the people together; and grief above all has come on me.
I have heard no message of an army coming,
which I could clearly tell you, since I first learned of it,
nor do I disclose or speak of any other public matter,
but of my own need, which has fallen as evil on my house
in two ways: I have lost a noble father, who once among you
here was king, and was gentle as a father;
and now a far greater evil, which will soon
break up my whole house, and destroy my livelihood altogether.
The suitors have set upon my mother, though she is unwilling,
the dear sons of those men who are the best here,
who shrink from going to the house of her father
Ikarios, so that he himself might dower his daughter
and give her to whom he wished, and who came pleasing to him;
but they come to our house every day,
slaughtering cattle and sheep and fat goats,
and they feast and drink the gleaming wine
recklessly; and much is consumed. For there is no man
such as Odysseus was, to ward off ruin from the house.
But we are not such as to defend it; and even then
we shall be wretched, and unpracticed in strength.
Truly I would defend myself, if power were in me.
For deeds no longer to be borne have been done, and no longer well
is my house destroyed. Feel shame yourselves,
and respect the other men who dwell around you,
who live nearby; and fear the wrath of the gods,
lest they turn things about, indignant at your evil deeds.
I beg you, by Olympian Zeus and by Themis,
who both dissolves and convenes the assemblies of men:
hold back, friends, and leave me alone to be worn down
by this painful grief — unless somewhere my noble father Odysseus
did evil to the well-greaved Achaeans, his enemies,
in revenge for which you do me evil in your hostility,
urging these men on. For me it would be better
that you should eat my treasures and my herds.
If you ate them, there might someday be requital;
for then we could go about the town with words,
asking for our goods back, until all were given;
but now you cast unbearable sorrows into my heart.
So he spoke in anger, and threw the scepter to the ground,
bursting into tears; and pity seized all the people.
Then all the others were silent, and no one dared
answer Telemachus with harsh words;
but Antinous alone answered him and said:
Telemachus, loud-voiced, unrestrained in fury, what a thing you have said,
shaming us; would you fasten blame upon us?
The Achaean suitors are not at all to blame for you,
but your dear mother, who knows cunning beyond all others.
For it is now the third year, and soon it will be the fourth,
since she has been cheating the hearts in the breasts of the Achaeans.
She gives hope to all, and promises each man,
sending messages, but her mind desires other things.
And she devised this other trick in her heart:
she set up a great loom in the hall and wove,
fine and of great size; and straightway she told us:
Young men, my suitors, since godlike Odysseus is dead,
wait, eager as you are for my marriage, until I finish
this shroud, lest my thread be wasted in vain,
a burial robe for the hero Laertes, for the time when
the deadly fate of long-suffering death lays him low,
lest some Achaean woman in the land blame me,
if he lies without a shroud, though he won much.
So she spoke, and our proud hearts were persuaded.
Then by day she would weave the great web,
but at night she would unravel it, when she had set the torches beside her.
So for three years she hid it by her trick and persuaded the Achaeans;
but when the fourth year came and the seasons came round,
then indeed one of the women told us, one who knew for certain,
and we caught her unraveling the shining web.
So she finished it, though unwilling, under compulsion;
and the suitors give you this answer, so that you may know
in your own heart, and all the Achaeans may know:
send your mother away, and bid her marry
whomever her father bids and she herself pleases.
But if she goes on vexing the sons of the Achaeans for a long time,
thinking the thoughts in her heart that Athena gave her beyond others,
to know all-beautiful handiwork and noble wits
and cunning, such as we never heard of even in the women of old,
of those Achaean women of the past with lovely hair,
Tyro, and Alcmene, and well-crowned Mykene;
none of those had thoughts like Penelope's —
yet in this she did not think what was right.
For so long will they devour your livelihood and your goods,
as long as she keeps this mind that the gods now
put in her breast. Great glory she wins for herself,
but for you, the loss of much livelihood.
And we will not go to our own work, nor anywhere else,
before she is married to whichever of the Achaeans she wishes.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Antinous, it is in no way possible to drive from the house against her will
her who bore me, who raised me; and my father is elsewhere in the world,
whether he lives or is dead; and it would be evil for me to pay much
to Ikarios, if I of my own will sent my mother away.
For from her father I shall suffer evils, and other pains a god
will give, since my mother, leaving the house, will call on the hateful Furies;
and there will be blame for me from men;
so I will never utter this word.
But if your own hearts feel indignation,
go out from my halls, and prepare other feasts,
eating your own goods, taking turns at each other's houses.
But if this seems to you better and more profitable,
that one man's livelihood be destroyed without requital,
cut it up; but I will call on the gods who live forever,
in hope that Zeus may grant deeds of requital to come.
Then you would die inside my halls without requital.
So Telemachus spoke, and to him Zeus the far-thundering
sent two eagles to fly down from the height of a mountain.
The two, as long as they flew with the blasts of the wind,
close to one another, stretching out their wings;
but when they came to the middle of the much-frequented assembly,
there they wheeled about and shook their close-packed wings,
and looked down on the heads of all, and glared destruction;
and tearing their cheeks and necks with their talons,
they darted off to the right, through their houses and their city.
The people marveled at the birds, when they saw them with their eyes;
and they stirred in their hearts, wondering what was to be fulfilled.
Then among them spoke the old hero Halitherses,
son of Mastor; for he alone of his generation excelled
in knowing birds and speaking what was right;
with good will toward them he spoke and addressed them:
Hear me now, men of Ithaca, whatever I shall say:
and I speak this especially as a warning to the suitors:
for a great calamity rolls toward them; for Odysseus
will not long be far from his own dear ones, but even now,
being near, he is planting slaughter and death for them
all; and for many others too there will be evil,
who dwell in clearly-seen Ithaca. But long before that
let us take thought how we may stop them; and let them themselves
stop too; for this is better for them at once.
For I do not prophesy untried, but knowing well;
for I say that all was fulfilled for that man,
just as I told him, when the Argives went up to Ilios
and with them went Odysseus of many counsels.
I said that after suffering many evils and losing all his companions,
unknown to all, in the twentieth year,
he would come home; and now all this is being fulfilled.
Then Eurymachus, son of Polybos, answered him:
Old man, go home and prophesy to your own children,
lest they suffer some evil hereafter;
in these matters I am much better at prophesying than you.
Many birds go about under the rays of the sun,
and not all of them are meaningful; but Odysseus
perished far away — and you should have perished with him.
Then you would not be speaking so many prophecies,
nor would you be stirring up Telemachus like this in his anger,
hoping for a gift for your house, if he should give one.
But I will tell you plainly, and this shall be accomplished:
if you, knowing many old things, with your words
beguile a younger man into being angry,
first it will be more painful for him,
and he will in any case be able to do nothing because of it;
and on you, old man, we shall lay a fine, which you will grieve
in your heart to pay; and it will be a hard grief for you.
And to Telemachus I myself will give advice before all:
let him bid his mother go back to her father's house;
and they will arrange a marriage and prepare the bride-gifts,
very many, as many as is fitting to go with a beloved daughter.
For I do not think the sons of the Achaeans will cease
from their painful wooing, since we fear no one at all,
neither Telemachus, for all his many words,
nor do we care for prophecy, which you, old man,
utter without fulfillment, and so become even more hateful.
But the property will again be eaten up badly, and never
equal, as long as she puts off the Achaeans
over this marriage; and we, waiting day after day,
compete over her excellence, and do not go after other women
whom each of us might fittingly marry.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Eurymachus, and all you other noble suitors,
I no longer beg these things of you, nor speak of them;
for the gods already know them, and all the Achaeans.
But come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions,
who may accomplish the journey with me here and there.
For I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos
to learn of my father's return, who long ago went away,
in case some mortal tells me, or I hear a voice
from Zeus, which above all brings news to men;
If I hear of my father's life and his return,
then, worn down though I am, I might yet endure a year;
but if I hear that he is dead and no longer living,
then having come home to my dear native land
I will heap a mound for him and hold his funeral rites,
very many, as is fitting, and give my mother to a husband.
So he spoke and sat down, and among them rose
Mentor, who was the companion of blameless Odysseus,
and when he set out in the ships he entrusted to him his whole house,
to obey the old man and keep all things faithfully;
with good will toward them he spoke and addressed them:
Hear me now, men of Ithaca, whatever I shall say:
let no sceptered king be henceforth kindly and gentle,
nor minding righteous things in his heart,
but let him always be harsh and do reckless deeds;
since no one remembers godlike Odysseus
among the people he ruled, and he was gentle as a father.
But the proud suitors I do not begrudge
for doing violent deeds through the wicked scheming of their minds;
for they stake their own heads and violently devour
the house of Odysseus, and say he will never come home.
But now I am angry at the rest of the people, that all of you
sit silent, and do not with a word
stop the few suitors, though you are many.
Then Leocritus, son of Euenor, answered him:
Mentor, mischief-maker, fool in your wits, what a thing you have said,
in urging us to stop. It is hard
for men to fight even against more, over a dinner.
For even if Odysseus of Ithaca himself came
and in his heart wished to drive the noble suitors
feasting in his own house out of the hall,
his wife would not rejoice at his coming, much as she longs for him,
but he would meet a shameful fate there
if he fought against more men; and you have spoken out of season.
But come, let the people scatter, each to his own work,
and for him let Mentor urge the journey, and Halitherses,
who from the first are his father's companions.
But I think he will sit long, waiting for tidings
here in Ithaca, and will never accomplish this journey.
So he spoke, and broke up the swift assembly.
And they scattered, each to his own home,
and the suitors went to the house of godlike Odysseus.
But Telemachus went apart to the shore of the sea,
and washing his hands in the gray salt water he prayed to Athena:
Hear me, you who came yesterday as a god to our house
and bid me in a ship over the misty sea
to go and learn of my father's return, who long ago went away;
but the Achaeans put all this off,
and the suitors above all, in their wicked arrogance.
So he spoke in prayer, and Athena came near to him,
likened to Mentor in form and in voice,
and speaking to him she addressed winged words:
Telemachus, you will not hereafter be cowardly or foolish,
if indeed your father's noble strength has dripped into you,
such as he was to accomplish a deed and a word;
then your journey will not be vain nor unaccomplished.
But if you are not his offspring and Penelope's,
then I do not expect you to accomplish what you desire.
For few sons are like their father;
the most are worse, and few are better than their father.
But since you will not hereafter be cowardly or foolish,
and the cunning of Odysseus has not wholly left you,
there is hope that you will accomplish these deeds.
So now leave the counsel and the mind of the suitors,
the senseless, since they are neither thoughtful nor just;
nor do they know death and black doom,
which is near them, that they all be destroyed in one day.
And the journey you desire will no longer be far off;
for I am such a companion of your father's line,
who will fit out a swift ship for you and myself go with you.
But go to the house and consort with the suitors,
and prepare provisions and stow all in vessels,
wine in jars, and barley, the marrow of men,
in tightly stitched skins; and I through the town companions
will quickly gather, willing men. There are ships
many in sea-girt Ithaca, new and old;
of these I will choose the best one for you,
and quickly fitting it out we will launch it on the broad sea.
So spoke Athena, daughter of Zeus; and no longer long
did Telemachus wait, since he heard the voice of the goddess.
He went toward the house, grieving in his dear heart,
and found the proud suitors in the halls,
flaying goats and singeing pigs in the courtyard.
And Antinous came straight at Telemachus, laughing,
and took him by the hand, and spoke a word and named him:
Telemachus, loud-voiced, unrestrained in fury, let no other
evil deed or word be a care in your breast,
but eat and drink with me, as before.
All these things the Achaeans will bring to pass for you,
a ship and chosen rowers, so that you may come the sooner
to holy Pylos, for tidings of your noble father.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Antinous, it is in no way possible among you overbearing men
to feast and be glad in peace, without being hurt.
Was it not enough that before you cut down many noble
possessions of mine, suitors, while I was still a child?
But now that I am grown and hear the words of others
and learn, and my spirit grows within me,
I will try to bring evil dooms upon you,
either by going to Pylos, or here in this land.
I am going, and the journey I speak of will not be in vain,
as a passenger; for of a ship and rowers I am no master;
so, I suppose, it seemed to you the better thing.
So he spoke, and easily pulled his hand from Antinous' hand;
and the suitors busied themselves with the feast through the house.
And they mocked him and jeered at him with words.
And thus one of the young overbearing men would say:
Truly Telemachus is planning slaughter for us.
Either he will bring defenders from sandy Pylos
or even from Sparta, since he is terribly eager;
or he wishes to go to Ephyre, the rich farmland,
to bring back from there heart-destroying drugs,
and put them in the mixing bowl and kill us all.
And another of the young overbearing men would say:
And who knows whether he himself, going in a hollow ship,
may perish far from his friends, wandering as Odysseus did?
So would he even increase the toil for us;
for we would divide all his possessions, and his house
we would give to his mother to keep, and to whoever married her.
So they spoke, and he went down into his father's high-roofed chamber,
the broad one, where piled gold and bronze lay
and clothing in chests, and plenty of sweet-smelling oil;
and jars of old honey-sweet wine
stood there, holding within the unmixed divine drink,
fitted in a row against the wall, in case ever Odysseus
should return home after enduring many sorrows.
And there were close-set doors, tightly joined,
double-folding; and within, a woman steward night and day
kept watch, guarding everything with the deep cunning of her mind,
Eurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor.
Then Telemachus called to her and spoke to her toward the chamber:
Nurse, come now, draw off for me wine in two-handled jars,
the sweet wine, the best after that which you keep
in hope for that unhappy man, if ever he should come,
godlike Odysseus, escaped from death and the dooms of fate.
Fill twelve jars, and fit them all with lids.
And pour barley for me into well-stitched skins;
let there be twenty measures of ground barley meal.
And know this yourself alone; let all be ready together;
for in the evening I will take them, when
my mother goes up to her upper room and thinks of bed.
For I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos
to learn of my dear father's return, if I may hear of it.
So he spoke, and his dear nurse Eurycleia wailed aloud,
and lamenting she spoke winged words:
Why, dear child, has this thought come into your heart?
And where do you wish to go over the wide earth,
you who are the only beloved one? And he perished far from his homeland,
godlike Odysseus, among a people unknown to him.
And they will straightway plot evils behind you as you go,
that you may perish by treachery, and they will divide all this themselves.
But stay here, sitting among your own; there is no need for you
to suffer evils on the barren sea, nor to wander.
Then wise Telemachus answered her:
Take courage, nurse, for this counsel is not without a god.
But swear not to tell these things to my dear mother,
at least until the eleventh or the twelfth day comes,
or until she misses me herself and hears that I have set out,
so that she may not, weeping, mar her fair skin.
So he spoke, and the old woman swore the great oath of the gods.
But when she had sworn and finished the oath,
straightway then she drew off wine for him in two-handled jars,
and poured barley for him into well-stitched skins.
And Telemachus went into the hall and consorted with the suitors.
Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, thought of another thing.
Likened to Telemachus she went throughout the city everywhere,
and standing beside each man she spoke a word,
and bid them gather at evening by the swift ship.
And she in turn asked Noemon, the glorious son of Phronius,
for a swift ship; and he gladly promised it to her.
The sun set and all the ways were shadowed,
and then he dragged the swift ship to the sea, and in it
he set all the gear that well-benched ships carry.
He moored it at the edge of the harbour, and around it noble companions
gathered together; and the goddess urged on each one.
Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, thought of another thing.
She went toward the house of godlike Odysseus;
there she poured sweet sleep over the suitors,
and dazed them as they drank, and struck the cups from their hands.
And they set out to sleep throughout the city, and no longer long
did they sit, since sleep fell upon their eyelids.
But grey-eyed Athena spoke to Telemachus,
calling him forth from the well-built halls,
likened to Mentor in form and in voice:
Telemachus, already your well-greaved companions
sit at the oars awaiting your coming;
but let us go, let us not delay the journey long.
So speaking, Pallas Athena led the way
swiftly; and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.
But when they came down to the ship and the sea,
they found on the shore the long-haired companions.
And among them spoke the sacred strength of Telemachus:
Come, friends, let us bring the provisions; for all things are already
gathered in the hall. My mother knows nothing of it,
nor the other serving women; one alone heard the word.
So speaking he led the way, and they followed with him.
And they carried everything and on the well-benched ship
laid it down, as the dear son of Odysseus had ordered.
And Telemachus stepped aboard the ship, and Athena led the way,
and sat down in the stern of the ship; and close beside her
Telemachus sat. And they loosed the stern cables,
and went aboard themselves and sat down on the benches.
And grey-eyed Athena sent them a favouring wind,
a keen-blowing West Wind, roaring over the wine-dark sea.
And Telemachus urged on his companions and ordered them
to lay hold of the gear; and they obeyed him as he urged.
And the pine mast, inside the hollow mast-box
they raised and set upright, and bound it down with forestays,
and hauled up the white sails with well-twisted oxhide ropes.
The wind filled the middle of the sail, and around it the wave
roared loudly, dark purple, at the stem of the moving ship;
and she ran over the wave, accomplishing her way.
And when they had stowed the gear through the swift black ship,
they set up mixing bowls brimming with wine,
and poured libations to the immortal gods who live forever,
and beyond all to the grey-eyed daughter of Zeus.
All night long she kept cutting her way, and on to the dawn.

### Book 3

Now the Sun rose up, leaving the lovely lake,
into the bronze-bright heaven, to shine for the deathless gods
and for mortal men upon the life-giving earth;
and they came to Pylos, the well-built citadel of Neleus,
and these were on the shore of the sea making holy sacrifice,
all-black bulls, to the Earth-Shaker of the dark-blue hair.
Nine seats there were, and in each five hundred men
sat, and nine bulls were set before them at each seat.
And when they had tasted the innards, and were burning the thigh-pieces to the god,
these others came straight in and furled the sails of the trim ship,
took them up and moored her, and themselves stepped out;
and Telemachus stepped out of the ship, and Athena led the way.
The goddess, bright-eyed Athena, spoke to him first:
"Telemachus, no longer should you feel shame, not even a little;
for this is why you sailed the sea, that you might learn
about your father, where the earth hides him and what fate he met.
But come now, go straight to Nestor, the tamer of horses;
let us learn what counsel he hides in his breast.
Entreat him yourself, that he may tell you the truth;
he will not speak a lie, for he is very wise."
Then prudent Telemachus answered her and said:
"Mentor, how shall I go, and how shall I greet him?
I am not yet tried in close-packed words;
and it is a shame for a young man to question an elder."
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:
"Telemachus, some things you will yourself perceive in your own heart,
and other things a god will put into you; for I do not think
you were born and raised without the will of the gods."
So speaking, Pallas Athena led the way
swiftly, and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.
They came to the assembly and the seats of the men of Pylos,
where Nestor was sitting with his sons, and around them his comrades
were preparing the feast, roasting meat and spitting other pieces.
And when they saw the strangers, they all came together in a crowd,
and greeted them with their hands and bade them sit down.
First Pisistratus, son of Nestor, coming near,
took both their hands and seated them by the feast
on soft fleeces upon the sea sand,
beside his brother Thrasymedes and his own father;
and he gave them portions of the innards, and poured wine
into a golden cup; and addressing her he spoke
to Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis:
"Pray now, stranger, to lord Poseidon;
for it is his feast that you have come upon here.
But when you have made libation and prayed, as is right,
give this man too the cup of honey-sweet wine
to pour libation, for I think that he too
prays to the immortals; for all men have need of the gods.
But he is younger, and of my own age-mate;
therefore I will give you the golden cup first."
So speaking he placed in her hand the cup of sweet wine;
and Athena rejoiced in the prudent and righteous man,
because he gave her the golden cup first;
and at once she prayed many things to lord Poseidon:
"Hear me, Poseidon, holder of the earth, and do not begrudge
us, as we pray, that these deeds be accomplished.
To Nestor first of all, and to his sons, grant glory,
and then to all the other Pylians give a gracious return
for this glorious hecatomb, for all of them together.
And grant that Telemachus and I return having accomplished our purpose,
since we have come here with our swift black ship."
So she prayed, and herself brought all to fulfillment.
And she gave Telemachus the beautiful two-handled cup;
and in the same way the dear son of Odysseus prayed.
And when they had roasted the upper meats and drawn them off,
they divided the portions and feasted on a glorious feast.
But when they had put away the desire for drink and food,
then the Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak among them:
"Now it is more seemly to question and to ask
these strangers who they are, since they have had their fill of food.
Strangers, who are you? From where do you sail the watery paths?
Is it on some business, or do you wander at random
like pirates over the sea, who roam about
staking their lives and bringing evil to strangers?"
Then prudent Telemachus answered him and said,
taking courage; for Athena herself had put courage in his heart,
that he might ask about his father who was gone away,
and that he might have good fame among men:
"Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans,
you ask from where we are; and I will tell you all.
We have come from Ithaca beneath the wooded slopes;
this business is my own, not public, that I speak of.
I am seeking the wide fame of my father, if perhaps I may hear it,
of godlike Odysseus, the steadfast-hearted, whom they say once,
fighting along with you, sacked the city of the Trojans.
For all the others, as many as fought against the Trojans,
we have heard where each perished by a wretched death;
but of that man the son of Cronos made even his destruction unknown.
For no one can say clearly when he died,
whether he was slain on the mainland by hostile men,
or in the sea amid the waves of Amphitrite.
Therefore I now come to your knees, in case you are willing
to tell me of that man's wretched death, if perhaps you saw it
with your own eyes, or heard the word from another
as he wandered; for his mother bore him to sorrow.
And do not, out of shame or pity, soften your words to me,
but tell me plainly how you met with the sight.
I beseech you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus,
undertook and accomplished any word or any deed
among the people of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered griefs,
remember it to me now, and tell me the truth."
Then the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:
"Dear friend, since you have reminded me of the sorrow that in that
land we endured, we unconquerable sons of the Achaeans,
both all that we wandered with our ships on the misty sea
in plunder, wherever Achilles would lead,
and all that we fought around the great city of lord Priam;
and there in that place all the best men were slain.
There lies warlike Ajax, there lies Achilles,
there lies Patroclus, a counsellor like the gods,
and there lies my own dear son, both strong and blameless,
Antilochus, swift beyond all in running and a fighter;
and many other evils we suffered besides those. Who among mortal men
could tell all of that?
Not even if you stayed five years, or even six, asking,
and asked all the evils the godlike Achaeans suffered there;
you would go home to your own land sick at heart before you heard all.
For nine years we kept contriving evils for them,
with all sorts of tricks, and hard it was for the son of Cronos to bring it to an end.
There no one ever wished to be likened to him in counsel
face to face, since godlike Odysseus surpassed them by far
with all sorts of tricks — your father, if truly
you are his offspring; wonder holds me as I look at you.
For truly your words are like his; you would not think
a younger man could speak so like him.
There, while I and godlike Odysseus
never once spoke apart in assembly or in council,
but holding one spirit in mind and prudent counsel
we planned how things might go best for the Argives.
But when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,
and gone into our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans,
then indeed Zeus devised in his heart a wretched homecoming
for the Argives, since not all were understanding or just;
therefore many of them met an evil doom
from the baneful wrath of the bright-eyed goddess, daughter of a mighty father.
For she set strife between the two sons of Atreus.
The two called an assembly of all the Achaeans,
foolishly, and not in order, at the setting of the sun,
and the sons of the Achaeans came heavy with wine,
and they told their words, for which they had gathered the host.
There Menelaus urged all the Achaeans
to remember their homecoming on the broad back of the sea,
but it did not please Agamemnon at all; for he wished
to hold back the host and offer holy hecatombs,
so that he might cure the terrible anger of Athena —
fool, he did not know that she was not to be persuaded;
for the mind of the ever-living gods is not quickly turned.
So the two stood exchanging harsh words,
and the well-greaved Achaeans leapt up
with a wondrous cry, and the counsel was divided among them.
All that night we passed in wakefulness, devising hard things
against one another; for Zeus was preparing a pain of evil.
At dawn we dragged some ships into the bright sea
and put in our possessions and the deep-girdled women.
But half the host was held back, waiting
there beside Atreus' son Agamemnon, shepherd of the people;
and half of us embarked and sailed; and the ships
sailed very swiftly, and a god smoothed the great-gulfed sea.
Coming to Tenedos we offered holy rites to the gods,
longing for home; but Zeus did not yet purpose our return,
cruel one, who stirred up wicked strife for the second time.
Some turned back their curved ships
around lord Odysseus, the warlike, the many-devising,
going back again to please Atreus' son Agamemnon;
but I fled with my gathered ships, as many as followed me,
since I knew that the god was devising evils.
The warlike son of Tydeus fled too, and roused his comrades.
And late indeed fair-haired Menelaus came after us,
and in Lesbos he found us, as we pondered the long voyage,
whether we should sail above rugged Chios,
past the island of Psyria, keeping it on our left,
or beneath Chios, past windy Mimas.
We asked the god to show a sign; and he showed it to us,
and commanded us to cut across the middle of the sea to Euboea,
so that we might escape our trouble as quickly as possible.
And a shrill fair wind rose up to blow; and the ships
ran swiftly over the fish-filled paths, and at Geraestus
they put in by night; and to Poseidon
we set many thigh-pieces of bulls, having measured the great sea.
It was the fourth day, when in Argos the comrades
of Tydeus' son, Diomedes, tamer of horses,
were mooring the trim ships; but I held on toward Pylos, and never
did the fair wind cease, once the god first sent it to blow.
So I came, dear child, knowing nothing, and I know nothing
of those others, which of the Achaeans were saved and which perished.
But all that I have learned sitting in my own halls,
as is right, you shall know, and I will not hide it from you.
They say the Myrmidons, spearmen, came home safely,
whom the glorious son of great-hearted Achilles led,
and Philoctetes too, the glorious son of Poeas.
And Idomeneus brought all his comrades back to Crete,
who had escaped from the war, and the sea took none of them from him.
But of the son of Atreus you yourselves hear, even being far off,
how he came home, and how Aegisthus devised his wretched death.
But truly that man paid for it most miserably;
so it is a good thing that a son be left behind when a man
has died, since even he took vengeance on the father-killer,
the crafty Aegisthus, who killed his glorious father.
And you, dear friend — for I see you are both handsome and tall —
be brave, so that some one of men born after you may speak well of you.
Then prudent Telemachus answered him and said:
"Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans,
indeed that man took great vengeance, and the Achaeans
will carry his wide fame for men to come to hear.
If only the gods would put such strength around me,
to take vengeance on the suitors for their grievous outrage,
who, insolent, devise reckless things against me.
But the gods have not spun such prosperity for me,
for my father and for me; and now I must endure it all the same."
Then the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:
"Dear friend, since you have reminded me of these things and spoken of them,
they say that many suitors, for the sake of your mother,
in your halls, against your will, are devising evil.
Tell me, are you willingly subdued, or do the people
hate you throughout the land, following the voice of a god?
And who knows whether he might someday come and avenge these outrages,
either he alone, or even all the Achaeans together?
If only the bright-eyed Athena were willing to love you,
as she once cared for glorious Odysseus
in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered pains —
for I never yet saw gods loving a man so openly,
as Pallas Athena stood openly beside him —
if she were so willing to love you and care for you in her heart,
then some of those men would forget their marriage.
Then prudent Telemachus answered her and said:
"Old man, I do not think this word will be accomplished;
for you have spoken far too greatly; amazement holds me. For me
these things would not happen even as I hoped, not even if the gods willed it so."
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:
"Telemachus, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth!
Easily a god, if willing, could save a man even from far away.
I myself would wish, even after suffering many pains,
to come home and see the day of my return,
rather than to perish at home after coming back, as Agamemnon
perished by the trick of Aegisthus and of his own wife.
But truly, death that is common to all, not even the gods
can ward off from a man they love, when once
the destructive fate of long-drawn death lays hold of him."
Then prudent Telemachus answered her and said:
"Mentor, let us no longer speak of these things, though we care;
for his homecoming is no longer true, but already
the immortals have planned death and black doom for him.
But now I wish to ask and question another matter
of Nestor, since he knows about judgments and the wisdom of others beyond all;
for they say he has ruled over three generations of men;
so he seems to me like an immortal to look upon.
Nestor, son of Neleus, speak the truth to me:
how did Atreus' son, wide-ruling Agamemnon, die?
Where was Menelaus? And what death did he devise for him,
Aegisthus the crafty, since he killed one far better?
Was he not in Argos of the Achaeans, but wandering somewhere else
among men, and Aegisthus, taking courage, killed him?"
Then the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:
"For my part, my child, I will tell you all truthfully.
Truly you yourself know how these things turned out,
if you found Aegisthus alive in his halls,
when the son of Atreus came from Troy, fair-haired Menelaus;
for no one would have heaped a mound of earth over him even dead,
but the dogs and the birds of prey would have torn him apart
as he lay on the plain far from the city, and none
of the Achaean women would have wept for him; for he devised a very great deed.
For we, while accomplishing many labors there,
sat idle; but he, at ease in a corner of horse-pastured Argos,
kept charming Agamemnon's wife with many words.
At first she refused the shameful deed,
divine Clytemnestra; for she had good sense in her mind;
and there was also a singer with her, a man whom the son of Atreus
had charged much when he went to Troy, to guard his wife.
But when the fate of the gods bound her to be subdued,
then he led the singer to a desert island
and left him to become prey and plunder for the birds,
and he led her away, willing to a willing woman, to his own house.
And he burned many thigh-pieces on the holy altars of the gods,
and hung up many ornaments, woven things and gold,
having accomplished a great deed, which he never hoped for in his heart.
For we sailed together, coming from Troy,
the son of Atreus and I, knowing friendly thoughts toward one another;
but when we came to holy Sunium, the headland of the Athenians,
there Phoebus Apollo, with his gentle arrows,
came upon and killed Menelaus' steersman,
as he held the steering-oar in his hands on the running ship,
Phrontis, son of Onetor, who surpassed the tribes of men
in steering a ship, whenever the storm-winds rushed on.
So he was held there, though eager for the journey,
to bury his comrade and perform the funeral rites.
But when he too, going on the wine-dark sea
in his hollow ships, reached the steep mountain of Malea
as he ran, then far-thundering Zeus planned for him
a hateful journey, and poured down a blast of shrill winds,
and monstrous waves swelled, equal to mountains.
There he divided them, and drove some toward Crete,
where the Cydonians dwelt about the streams of Iardanus.
There is a certain sheer rock, steep into the sea,
at the border of Gortyn, in the misty sea;
there the South Wind drives the great wave toward the left-hand headland,
toward Phaestos, and a small stone holds off the great wave.
Some ships came there, and with effort the men escaped destruction,
but the waves broke the ships against the rocks;
and the five dark-prowed ships the wind and the water
carried and drove to Egypt.
So he, gathering much substance and gold there,
wandered with his ships among men of other tongues;
and meanwhile Aegisthus devised these evil things at home.
For seven years he ruled over gold-rich Mycenae,
after killing the son of Atreus, and the people were subdued under him.
But in the eighth year godlike Orestes brought an evil upon him,
coming back from Athens, and he killed the father-killer,
the crafty Aegisthus, who killed his glorious father.
And he, having killed him, feasted the Argives at the funeral
of his hateful mother and of the cowardly Aegisthus;
and on the same day Menelaus, good at the war-cry, came to him,
bringing many treasures, as many as his ships had carried as cargo.
And you, dear friend, do not long wander far from your halls,
leaving your treasures and the men in your house
so insolent, lest they devour all your
possessions, dividing them, and you go on a fruitless journey.
But I bid and command you to go to Menelaus;
for he has just come from elsewhere,
from those men, from where no one in his heart would hope
to come, whom the storm-winds first swept off course
into such a great sea, from where not even birds
go in a year, since it is great and terrible.
But go now with your ship and your comrades;
or if you wish to go on foot, a chariot and horses are here for you,
and my sons are here, who will be your escorts
to godlike Lacedaemon, where fair-haired Menelaus is.
Entreat him yourself, so that he may tell you the truth;
he will not speak a lie, for he is very wise."
So he spoke, and the sun set and darkness came.
And among them the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, spoke:
"Old man, truly you have told all this fittingly;
but come now, cut out the tongues and mix the wine,
so that after pouring libations to Poseidon and the other immortals
we may think of sleep; for this is the hour for it.
For already the light has gone beneath the darkness, and it is not fitting
to sit long at the feast of the gods, but to go home."
So spoke the daughter of Zeus, and they listened as she spoke.
And the heralds poured water over their hands,
and the young men filled the mixing bowls to the brim with drink,
and they distributed it to all, pouring the first drops into the cups;
and they threw the tongues into the fire, and standing up poured libations.
But when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,
then Athena and godlike Telemachus
both were eager to go to the hollow ship.
But Nestor again held them back, addressing them with words:
"May Zeus avert that, and the other immortal gods,
that you should go from me to your swift ship
like one who is utterly without clothing and poor,
who has no cloaks and no many rugs in his house,
to sleep softly, neither himself nor for his guests.
But I have cloaks and beautiful rugs.
Surely the dear son of this man Odysseus
shall not lie down on the ship's deck planks, while I
live, and afterwards children are left in my halls,
to entertain strangers, whoever comes to my house."
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:
"You have spoken well, dear old man; and it is fitting
for Telemachus to obey you, since so it is far better.
But he will now follow you, that he may sleep
in your halls; but I will go to the black ship,
to encourage my comrades and tell them each thing.
For I claim to be the eldest among them;
and the others who follow are younger men in friendship,
all of the same age as great-hearted Telemachus.
There I would lie down beside the hollow black ship
now; but at dawn I go to the great-hearted Cauconians,
where a debt is owed to me, not a new one
and not a small one. But do you, since he has come to your house,
send him with a chariot and your son; and give him horses,
the lightest for running and the best in strength."
So speaking, bright-eyed Athena departed,
likened to a sea-eagle; and wonder seized all who saw.
The old man marveled, as he saw with his eyes;
and he took Telemachus' hand, and spoke a word and named him:
"Dear friend, I do not expect you to be a coward and a weakling,
if indeed the gods follow you as guides when you are so young.
For none of these others who hold Olympian homes is such,
but this is the daughter of Zeus, the most glorious Tritogeneia,
who also honored your noble father among the Argives.
But, lady, be gracious, and grant me good glory,
to me and my children and my revered wife;
and I will sacrifice to you a yearling heifer, broad-browed,
unbroken, whom no man has yet led under the yoke;
her I will sacrifice to you, pouring gold over her horns."
So he spoke praying, and Pallas Athena heard him.
And the Gerenian horseman Nestor led the way for them,
for his sons and sons-in-law, to his beautiful house.
But when they came to the glorious house of that lord,
they sat down in order on the benches and chairs;
and the old man mixed a bowl for them as they came,
of sweet wine, which in the eleventh year
the housekeeper opened and loosed the lid from;
from it the old man mixed a bowl, and poured many libations
and prayed to Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis.
But when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,
each went to his own house to lie down;
and the Gerenian horseman Nestor put him to bed there,
Telemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus,
in a pierced bed under the echoing portico,
and beside him Pisistratus of the good spear, leader of men,
who was still unmarried among the sons in the halls;
and he himself slept in the inner part of the lofty house,
and his wife, the mistress, made ready the bed and bedding for him.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
the Gerenian horseman Nestor rose from his bed,
and going out he sat down on the polished stones,
which were before the lofty doors,
white, gleaming with oil; on these Neleus
used to sit before, a counsellor like the gods;
but he had already gone to Hades, subdued by death,
and now Gerenian Nestor sat there, the guardian of the Achaeans,
holding a scepter. And his sons gathered in a crowd around him,
coming from their chambers, Echephron and Stratius
and Perseus and Aretus and godlike Thrasymedes.
And sixth after them came the hero Pisistratus,
and they brought and seated godlike Telemachus beside them.
And the Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak among them:
"Quickly, dear children, fulfill my wish,
so that first of all I may propitiate Athena among the gods,
who came to me clearly, to the rich feast of the god.
But come, let one go to the plain for a cow, so that as quickly as possible
it may come, and let the herdsman of the cattle drive it;
and let another go to great-hearted Telemachus' black ship
and bring all his comrades, leaving two behind only;
and let another bid the goldsmith Laerces come here,
so that he may pour gold around the cow's horns.
And let the rest of you stay here together, and tell the maidservants
within the glorious house to prepare a feast,
and to bring seats and wood around, and bright water."
So he spoke, and they all hurried to work. The cow came
from the plain, and the comrades of great-hearted Telemachus
came from the swift trim ship, and the smith came
holding in his hands the bronze tools, the instruments of his craft,
an anvil and a hammer and well-made tongs,
with which he worked the gold; and Athena came
to meet the holy rites. And the old charioteer Nestor
gave the gold; and he then poured it around the cow's horns,
working it skillfully, so that the goddess might rejoice to see the ornament.
And Stratius and godlike Echephron led the cow by the horns.
And Aretus came from the chamber bringing water for the hands
in a flowered basin, and in his other hand he held barley-groats
in a basket; and Thrasymedes, steadfast in battle,
stood beside him holding a sharp axe in his hand, to strike the cow.
And Perseus held the blood-bowl; and the old charioteer Nestor
began with the water for the hands and the barley-groats, and prayed much
to Athena, making the first offering, and threw the hairs from the head into the fire.
But when they had prayed and thrown forward the barley-groats,
at once the high-spirited son of Nestor, Thrasymedes,
struck, standing near; and the axe cut through the tendons
of the neck, and loosed the cow's strength. And the women cried out,
the daughters and daughters-in-law and the revered wife
of Nestor, Eurydice, eldest of the daughters of Clymenus.
Then the men raised the cow from the broad-wayed earth
and held it; and Pisistratus, leader of men, cut its throat.
And when the black blood had flowed out and the spirit left the bones,
at once they cut it up, and quickly cut out the thigh-pieces
all in order, and covered them with fat,
making a double layer, and laid raw pieces on top.
And the old man burned them on split wood, and poured gleaming wine
over them; and the young men stood beside him with five-pronged forks in their hands.
But when the thighs were burned and they had tasted the innards,
they chopped the rest and pierced it on spits,
and roasted them, holding the sharp-pointed spits in their hands.
Meanwhile beautiful Polycaste bathed Telemachus,
the youngest daughter of Nestor, son of Neleus.
And when she had bathed him and anointed him richly with oil,
she threw a beautiful cloak and tunic around him,
and he stepped from the bath, in body like the immortals;
and he went and sat down beside Nestor, shepherd of the people.
And when they had roasted the upper meats and drawn them off,
they sat and feasted; and noble men rose up
to pour wine in golden cups.
But when they had put away the desire for drink and food,
the Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak among them:
"My sons, come, yoke the fair-maned horses for Telemachus
and bring them under the chariot, so that he may go on his journey."
So he spoke, and they heard him and obeyed,
and quickly yoked the swift horses under the chariot.
And the housekeeper woman put in grain and wine
and delicacies, such as Zeus-nurtured kings eat.
And Telemachus stepped up into the beautiful chariot,
and beside him Pisistratus, son of Nestor, leader of men,
stepped up into the chariot and took the reins in his hands,
and whipped them to go, and the two flew not unwillingly
into the plain, and left the steep citadel of Pylos.
And all day long they shook the yoke, holding it on either side.
And the sun set and all the streets were shadowed,
and they came to Pherae, to the house of Diocles,
son of Ortilochus, whom Alpheus begot as his child.
There they passed the night, and he set guest-gifts before them.
And when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
they yoked the horses and mounted the painted chariot;
and they drove out from the gateway and the echoing portico;
and he whipped them to go, and the two flew not unwillingly.
And they came to the wheat-bearing plain, and there
they finished the journey; for so the swift horses carried them.
And the sun set and all the streets were shadowed.

### Book 4

So they came to hollow Lacedaemon, land of deep ravines,
and drove up to the house of glorious Menelaus.
They found him feasting at a wedding in the midst of many kinsmen,
for his son and his blameless daughter, in his own house.
The girl he was sending to the son of Achilles, breaker of men —
for in Troy he had first promised and nodded his assent
to give her, and now the gods were bringing the marriage to fulfilment.
So he was sending her there with horses and chariots to journey
to the famous city of the Myrmidons, over whom he ruled.
And for his son he was bringing a bride from Sparta, the daughter of Alector,
even Megapenthes the strong, who was born to him in his old age
of a slave woman; and for Helen the gods no longer showed offspring,
since she had first borne a lovely child,
Hermione, who had the beauty of golden Aphrodite.
So these feasted throughout the great high-roofed hall,
the neighbours and the clansmen of glorious Menelaus,
taking their pleasure; and among them a divine bard sang
playing the lyre, and two tumblers whirled
through their midst while the song began.
But the two others in the porch of the house, the two men with their horses,
the hero Telemachus and Nestor's splendid son,
halted there; and lord Eteoneus came out and saw them,
the ready squire of glorious Menelaus,
and he went through the halls to tell the shepherd of the people,
and standing near him he spoke winged words:
"Two strangers are here, Zeus-fostered Menelaus,
two men, and by birth they are like the sons of great Zeus.
But tell me: shall we unyoke their swift horses,
or send them on to another who may welcome them?"
Then, greatly vexed, fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
"You were no fool before, Boethous' son Eteoneus,
but now you talk like a child, like a senseless boy.
Surely the two of us came here having eaten many a guest-gift
at other men's tables — if ever Zeus
shall grant that we cease from sorrow hereafter. So unyoke
the strangers' horses, and lead the men in to feast."
So he spoke, and the other darted through the hall and called
the other ready squires to follow him.
They loosed the sweating horses from beneath the yoke
and tied them to the mangers of the stable,
and threw spelt before them and mixed white barley,
and leaned the chariot against the gleaming porch,
and led the men into the divine house. And they, seeing it,
marvelled throughout the house of the Zeus-fostered king:
for like the radiance of the sun or the moon
was the high-roofed house of glorious Menelaus.
But when they had taken their fill of gazing with their eyes,
they stepped into the polished bathing tubs and bathed.
And when the maidservants had washed them and anointed them with oil,
and thrown fleecy cloaks and tunics about them,
they sat down on chairs beside Atreus' son Menelaus.
And a handmaid brought a pitcher and poured water over
a fair golden basin set above a silver one,
for them to wash; and she drew up a polished table beside them.
And the honoured housekeeper brought and set out bread,
adding many dishes, giving freely of what was there.
And the carver lifted and set before them platters of flesh
of every kind, and placed golden cups beside them.
And greeting them, fair-haired Menelaus spoke:
"Fall to your food, and welcome. Then, afterwards,
when you have tasted dinner, we will ask who you are
among men; for your parents' race has not perished,
but you are of the race of Zeus-fostered kings
who bear the sceptre — for base men could not father such as you."
So he spoke, and set before them the fat back of an ox,
roasted, taking it in his hands — the portion they had set aside for him.
And they reached out their hands to the ready food lying before them.
But when they had put away desire for drink and food,
then Telemachus spoke to Nestor's son,
drawing his head close, so that the others might not hear:
"Look, son of Nestor, dear to my heart —
the flashing of bronze through the echoing halls,
and of gold and amber and silver and ivory.
Such, I think, must be the court of Olympian Zeus within,
so many and unspeakable are these things; awe takes hold of me as I look."
And fair-haired Menelaus heard him speaking,
and spoke aloud and addressed them with winged words:
"Dear children, no mortal could rival Zeus —
for his house and his possessions are immortal.
But among men, one may rival me in possessions, or may not.
For after much suffering and much wandering,
I brought them home in my ships and came back in the eighth year,
driven far to Cyprus and Phoenicia and the Egyptians,
and I reached the Ethiopians and the Sidonians and the Erembi,
and Libya, where the lambs are born horned at once.
For there the flocks bear young three times in the full year.
And there neither master nor shepherd is in want
of cheese or flesh or sweet milk,
but they always provide milk to draw the whole year through.
While I wandered there, gathering a great livelihood,
meanwhile another man killed my brother,
secretly, unwittingly, by the guile of his accursed wife.
So it is not with joy that I rule over these possessions.
And these things you are likely to have heard from your fathers,
whoever they are — since I suffered very much, and lost my house,
a house very well established, holding many good things.
If only I dwelt in my halls with a third part of it,
and those men were safe, who then perished
in wide Troy, far from horse-pasturing Argos.
But still, mourning and grieving for them all,
often as I sit in my halls,
at one time I gladden my heart with lamentation, at another
I cease; for there comes swiftly a surfeit of chilly grief.
For all of them I do not grieve so much, grieving as I am,
as for one man, who makes sleep hateful to me and food,
when I remember him — for no other Achaean toiled so much,
as much as Odysseus toiled and endured. And yet for him
sorrows were to come, and for me grief ever unforgotten
for that man, that he is so long gone, and we do not know
whether he is alive or dead. And surely they mourn him,
old Laertes and wise-hearted Penelope
and Telemachus, whom he left a newborn in his house."
So he spoke, and roused in the other a longing to weep for his father.
He let a tear fall from his eyelids to the ground at hearing of his father,
holding up his purple cloak before his eyes
with both hands. And Menelaus marked him,
and then pondered in his heart and in his spirit
whether he should let him remember his father himself,
or first question him and try him on each thing.
While he was turning these things over in his heart and spirit,
out of her fragrant high-roofed chamber came Helen,
looking like Artemis of the golden distaff.
And with her Adreste set out a well-made chair,
and Alcippe brought a rug of soft wool,
and Phylo brought a silver basket, which Alcandra had given her,
the wife of Polybus, who lived in Egyptian Thebes,
where the greatest wealth lies in the houses;
he gave Menelaus two silver bathing tubs,
and two tripods, and ten talents of gold.
And separately Helen, his wife, gave him beautiful gifts:
a golden distaff she gave him and a wheeled basket
of silver, whose rims were fitted with gold.
This the handmaid Phylo brought and set beside her,
stuffed with finely wrought yarn; and upon it
the distaff lay outstretched, holding violet-dark wool.
She sat down in the chair, and a footstool was under her feet.
And at once she questioned her husband on each thing:
"Do we know, Zeus-fostered Menelaus, who these men are
who claim to have come to our house?
Shall I lie, or shall I speak the truth? My heart bids me.
For I say I have never yet seen anyone so like —
neither man nor woman — awe takes hold of me as I look —
as this man is like the son of great-hearted Odysseus,
Telemachus, whom that man left a newborn in his house,
when for my sake, shameless dog that I am, the Achaeans
came beneath Troy, bent on daring war."
Then fair-haired Menelaus answered her:
"I too now think, lady, just as you guess.
For such were his feet, such were his hands,
and the glances of his eyes, and the head, and the hair above it.
And just now, remembering Odysseus,
I was telling of all that he suffered and toiled
for my sake, and he let a bitter tear fall beneath his brows,
holding up his purple cloak before his eyes."
Then Nestor's son Peisistratus spoke in answer:
"Zeus-fostered Menelaus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,
this man is truly that man's son, as you say;
but he is prudent, and is ashamed in his heart
to come here and at first display his speeches
face to face with you, whose voice delights us like a god's.
But Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, sent me out
to follow with him as escort; for he longed to see you,
so that you might put some word or some deed in his mind.
For many sorrows has the son of a father who is gone
in his halls, when he has no other helpers,
as now for Telemachus — his father is gone, and there are no others
in the district who might ward off ruin from him."
Then fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
"Oh, surely the son of a dear man has come to my house,
the man who toiled many labours for my sake.
And I said I would love him above the other
Argives if he came, if over the sea Olympian wide-thundering Zeus
granted that a homecoming in our swift ships should be ours.
And I would have settled a city for him in Argos and built him a house,
bringing him from Ithaca with his possessions and his son
and all his people, after laying waste one city
of those that lie around and are ruled by me.
And we would often mingle here together; and nothing
would have parted us, loving each other and taking joy,
until the dark cloud of death covered us over.
But that, I suppose, some god himself was going to begrudge,
the god who made that wretched man, alone, never to come home."
So he spoke, and roused in them all a longing to weep.
Argive Helen wept, daughter of Zeus,
and Telemachus wept, and Atreus' son Menelaus,
nor did Nestor's son keep his eyes unwet;
for he remembered blameless Antilochus in his heart,
whom the splendid son of shining Dawn had killed.
Remembering him, he spoke winged words:
"Son of Atreus, old Nestor used to say
that you were the wisest of mortals beyond all others,
whenever we spoke of you in his halls
and talked with one another.
And now, if it may be, listen to me; for I at least
take no pleasure in weeping after dinner, but early-born
dawn will come; and I would not begrudge
weeping for any mortal who dies and meets his fate.
For this is the only honour for wretched mortals:
to cut the hair and let a tear fall from the cheeks.
For my own brother too is dead, and no worst man
among the Argives — you must know of him; for I at least
never met him or saw him; but they say Antilochus
was foremost of the others both at running and in battle."
Then fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
"Dear friend, since you have said what a wise man
would say and do, even one who was older born —
for of such a father are you, and you speak wisely —
easily is a man's offspring known, when the son of Cronus
spins prosperity for him at his marriage and at his birth,
as he has now given to Nestor through all his days:
that he himself grow sleekly old in his halls,
and his sons again be wise and best with the spear.
But let us leave the weeping that has just now been,
and let us turn our minds again to dinner, and let them pour
water over our hands. Speeches too there will be
at dawn, for Telemachus and me to speak over with one another."
So he spoke, and Asphalion poured water over their hands,
the ready squire of glorious Menelaus.
And they reached out their hands to the ready food lying before them.
Then Helen, daughter of Zeus, thought of another thing:
at once she cast a drug into the wine they were drinking,
a drug that takes away grief and anger and brings forgetfulness of all evils.
Whoever swallowed it down, once it was mixed in the bowl,
could not let a tear fall down his cheeks that day,
not even if his mother and father both died,
nor if before his eyes his brother or dear son
were butchered with bronze, and he watched it with his eyes.
Such were the cunning drugs the daughter of Zeus had,
good ones, which Polydamna gave her, the wife of Thon,
an Egyptian — for there the grain-giving earth bears most
drugs, many good ones mixed in, and many baneful;
and every man there is a physician knowing more than all
other men; for they are of the race of Paeon.
But when she had put it in and told them to pour the wine,
again she spoke and answered them with words:
"Zeus-fostered Menelaus, son of Atreus, and you here,
sons of good men — for Zeus gives good and evil
to one man at one time, to another at another; he can do all things —
come now, sit and feast in the halls
and take your pleasure in talk; for I will tell you fitting things.
All of them I could not tell over or name,
as many labours as there are of Odysseus, the enduring man;
but such a thing as this that strong man did and endured
in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered woes.
He beat his own body with unseemly blows,
threw a wretched rag about his shoulders, looking like a slave,
and crept into the wide-streeted city of the enemy men;
and hiding himself, he likened himself to another man,
a beggar, one who was nothing like that among the Achaean ships.
Like him he entered the city of the Trojans, and they all
were speechless; but I alone recognized him as he was,
and questioned him; but he turned aside in his cunning.
But when I had bathed him and rubbed him with oil,
and dressed him in clothes and swore a strong oath
not to reveal Odysseus among the Trojans before
he reached the swift ships and the huts,
then he told me the whole mind of the Achaeans.
And after killing many of the Trojans with the long-pointed bronze
he came back to the Argives, bringing much knowledge.
Then the other Trojan women wailed shrilly; but my own heart
rejoiced, since my mind had already turned to going
home again, and I grieved for the folly that Aphrodite
gave me, when she led me there from my own dear fatherland,
abandoning my child and my bridal chamber and my husband,
who lacked nothing in wits or in beauty."
Then fair-haired Menelaus answered her:
"Yes, indeed, lady, you have told all this as is fitting.
For I have learned the counsel and the mind of many
heroic men, and I have travelled over much land;
but never yet have I seen with my eyes such a one
as was the dear heart of Odysseus the enduring.
What a thing that strong man did and endured —
in the polished horse, where we all sat, the best
of the Argives, bringing slaughter and death to the Trojans.
Then you came there; and some god was about to bid you,
the spirit that wished to give glory to the Trojans;
and godlike Deiphobus followed you as you went.
Three times you walked around the hollow ambush, feeling it with your hands,
and you called out by name the best of the Danaans,
making your voice like the voices of their wives.
But I and the son of Tydeus and brilliant Odysseus,
sitting in the midst, heard how you cried out.
The two of us were eager, starting up, to rush out
or to answer at once from within;
but Odysseus held us back and restrained us, eager as we were.
Then all the other sons of the Achaeans were silent,
but Anticlus alone wished to answer you with words.
But Odysseus pressed his hand over his mouth
relentlessly with his strong hands, and saved all the Achaeans;
and he held him so until Pallas Athena led you away."
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
"Zeus-fostered Menelaus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,
the worse for it; for none of that warded off his cruel destruction,
not even if his heart within were made of iron.
But come, turn us towards bed, so that we too at once
may lie down and take our pleasure in sweet sleep."
So he spoke, and Argive Helen told the maidservants
to set up beds beneath the portico and throw on fine
purple blankets, and spread rugs over them,
and put fleecy cloaks on top for them to wear.
And they went from the hall with torches in their hands,
and made the beds; and a herald led the guests out.
So they slept there in the forecourt of the house,
the hero Telemachus and Nestor's splendid son;
and Atreus' son slept in the inner corner of the lofty house,
and beside him lay Helen of the long robes, shining among women.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
good at the war-cry Menelaus rose from his bed,
put on his clothes, slung a sharp sword over his shoulder,
tied fine sandals under his shining feet,
and went from the chamber, like a god to look upon,
and sat down beside Telemachus, and spoke a word and named him:
"What need has brought you here, hero Telemachus,
to shining Lacedaemon, over the broad back of the sea?
Public business or your own? Tell me this truly."
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
"Zeus-fostered Menelaus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,
I have come, in case you can tell me some report of my father.
My house is being eaten up, my rich fields are ruined,
and my house is full of hostile men, who always
slaughter my thronging sheep and my shambling crook-horned cattle —
my mother's suitors, holding overweening outrage.
Therefore I now come as a suppliant to your knees, in case you are willing
to tell me of that man's cruel destruction, if somewhere you have seen it
with your own eyes, or heard the word from another
as he wandered; for his mother bore him for sorrow.
And do not soothe me out of shame or pity,
but tell me well how you came upon the sight.
I beg you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus,
undertook and accomplished some word or some deed for you
in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered woes,
remember those things now for me, and tell me truly."
Then, greatly vexed, fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
"Oh no — so it is a mighty-hearted man's bed
that these weaklings wished to lie in!
As when in a thicket a deer has laid her newborn, milk-fed fawns
to sleep, and ranges over the slopes and the grassy glens
to feed, and then a strong lion comes to that bed of hers
and brings an unseemly death on both of them —
so will Odysseus bring an unseemly death on those men.
I wish, father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,
that he were such as he once was in well-built Lesbos,
when he stood up and wrestled in rivalry with Philomeleides,
and threw him hard, and all the Achaeans rejoiced —
such a man might Odysseus be among the suitors!
Then all would be swift-fated and bitterly wedded.
But as for what you ask me and beg of me, I at least
will not speak otherwise, turning aside, nor will I deceive you,
but I will tell you what the old man of the sea told me, truthful as he is;
not one word of it will I hide from you or keep back.
"In Egypt the gods still held me there when I was eager to come home,
because I had not offered them perfect hecatombs.
For the gods always wish men to remember their commands.
There is a certain island in the much-surging sea,
in front of Egypt, and men call it Pharos,
as far off as a hollow ship can travel
in a whole day, when a shrill fair wind blows behind her.
And in it there is a good harbour, from which men launch
their equal ships into the sea after drawing dark water.
There the gods held me twenty days, and never did any fair winds
appear blowing, the winds that are
escorts of ships over the broad back of the sea.
And now all my provisions would have perished and my men's strength,
if one of the gods had not pitied me and saved me,
the daughter of mighty Proteus, the old man of the sea,
Eidothea; for I stirred her heart especially.
She met me as I wandered alone, apart from my companions;
for they were always wandering around the island fishing
with bent hooks, and hunger was wearing out their bellies.
And she stood near me and spoke a word and said:
'You are very foolish, stranger, and feeble-minded,
or you give up willingly and take pleasure in suffering.
How long now are you held on the island, and you cannot
find any way out, and your companions' hearts are failing?
So she spoke, and I answered her and said:
'I will tell you, whoever of the goddesses you are,
that I am not held here willingly, but surely I must
have offended the immortals who hold the wide heaven.
But do you tell me — the gods know all things —
which of the immortals binds me and has bound me from my path,
and how I shall go over the fish-filled sea.'
So I spoke, and the shining goddess answered at once:
'Then I will tell you, stranger, very precisely.
There roams here a truthful old man of the sea,
an immortal, Egyptian Proteus, who knows the depths
of all the sea, and is a servant under Poseidon;
and they say he is my father and begot me.
If you could somehow lie in wait and seize him,
he would tell you your road and the measures of your journey,
and how you shall go over the fish-filled sea.
And he would tell you, Zeus-fostered one, if you are willing,
whatever evil and good has been done in your halls
while you were gone on the long and painful road.'
So she spoke, and I answered her and said:
'Now do you yourself plan the ambush of the divine old man,
in case he sees me beforehand or knows beforehand and escapes;
for it is hard for a mortal man to overpower a god.'
So I spoke, and the shining goddess answered at once:
'Then I will tell you, stranger, very precisely.
When the sun has climbed to the middle of the sky,
then the truthful old man of the sea comes up from the brine
under the breath of the West Wind, hidden in dark rippling water,
and coming out he sleeps under the hollow caves;
and around him the seals, offspring of the fair sea-goddess,
sleep in a herd, risen up from the gray sea,
breathing out the pungent smell of the deep sea brine.
There I will lead you at dawn when it appears
and lay you down in a row; and do you choose well three
companions, the best of those beside your well-benched ships.
And I will tell you all the treacherous tricks of that old man.
First he will go and count the seals;
and when he has reckoned them all by fives and looked them over,
he will lie down in the midst of them like a shepherd among his flocks of sheep.
And as soon as you see him laid down to sleep,
then let your strength and force be ready,
and hold him there struggling, eager as he is to escape.
And he will try all things that creep
upon the earth, and water and blazing fire;
but you must hold on unshaken and press him the more.
But when at last he himself questions you in words,
being such as you saw him when he lay down,
then at last slacken your force and release the old man,
hero, and ask him which of the gods is angry with you,
and how you shall go over the fish-filled sea."
So speaking, she dove beneath the surging sea.
But I went to the ships, where they stood on the sands,
my provisions; and my heart churned greatly within me as I went.
But when I had come down to the ship and the sea,
and we had made ready dinner, and immortal night came on,
then we lay down to sleep on the breakwater of the sea.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then indeed along the shore of the wide-pathed sea
I went, praying much to the gods; and three of my companions
I led, men in whom I trusted most in every way.
Meanwhile she, diving under the broad bosom of the sea,
brought four sealskins up from the deep;
all were newly flayed; and she was devising a trick against her father.
And she had hollowed out beds in the sands of the shore,
and sat waiting; and we came very close to her.
And she laid us down in a row, and threw a hide over each.
There the ambush would have been most terrible; for it oppressed us dreadfully,
the most deadly stench of the sea-fed seals.
For who would lie down to sleep beside a sea-monster?
But she herself saved us and thought of a great help:
she brought ambrosia and put it under each man's nostrils,
smelling very sweet, and destroyed the stench of the monster.
And all the morning we waited with enduring heart;
and the seals came out of the sea in throngs. Then they
lay down in rows along the breakwater of the sea;
and at noon the old man came from the sea, and found the seals
well-fed, and went along all of them, and counted their number;
and he counted us first among the monsters, and nothing in his heart
suspected there was a trick; then he too lay down.
But we rushed on him with a shout, and threw our arms
about him; and the old man did not forget his crafty art,
but first of all he became a deep-maned lion,
and then a serpent and a leopard and a great boar;
and he became wet water and a high-branched tree;
but we held on unshaken with enduring heart.
But when at last the old man, knowing treacherous things, grew weary,
then he questioned me with words and said:
"Who of the gods, son of Atreus, counselled these plans with you,
that you should take me unwilling by ambush? What do you need?"
So he spoke, and I answered him and said:
"You know, old man, why you ask me these things, turning me aside.
How long now am I held on the island, and I cannot
find any way out, and my heart fails within me.
But do you tell me — the gods know all things —
which of the immortals binds me and has bound me from my path,
and how I shall go over the fish-filled sea."
So I spoke, and he answered me at once and said:
"Ah, but you should have offered fine sacrifices to Zeus
and to the other gods before you embarked, so that you might come
most swiftly to your fatherland, sailing over the wine-dark sea.
For it is not your fate to see your friends and reach
your well-built home and your fatherland before
you go back to the waters of the river of Egypt, rain-fed,
and offer sacred hecatombs
to the immortal gods who hold the wide heaven;
and then the gods will give you the journey you long for."
So he spoke, and my own dear heart was broken within me,
because he told me to go back over the misty sea
to Egypt, a long and painful journey.
But even so I answered him with words:
"That I will indeed perform, old man, just as you command.
But come, tell me this and relate it exactly:
did all the Achaeans come home unharmed in their ships,
whom Nestor and I left behind when we sailed from Troy,
or did some perish by a cruel death on their own ship
or in the hands of friends, after they had wound up the war?"
So I spoke, and he answered me at once and said:
"Son of Atreus, why do you ask me these things? It is not for you
to know them, nor to learn my mind; nor do I think
you will be long without weeping, once you hear it all well.
For many of them perished, and many were left behind;
and of the leaders, only two of the bronze-clad Achaeans
perished on the way home; and you yourself were present at the battle.
And one more is still held alive, somewhere on the wide sea.
Ajax perished among his long-oared ships.
First Poseidon drove him onto the Gyraean
rocks, and saved him from the sea;
and he would have escaped death, though Athena hated him,
if he had not let fly a boastful word and been greatly blinded;
he said he had escaped the great gulf of the sea against the gods' will.
And Poseidon heard him as he shouted aloud;
at once then he took his trident in his strong hands
and struck the Gyraean rock and split it apart;
and one part stayed there, and the fragment fell into the sea,
on which Ajax had first sat and been greatly blinded;
and it carried him over the boundless surging sea.
So he perished there, when he drank the salt water.
But your brother, I suppose, escaped the fates and got away
in his hollow ships; and lady Hera saved him.
But when he was soon about to reach the steep
mountain of Malea, then a storm snatched him up
and carried him over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily,
to the edge of the country, where Thyestes once
had his house, but then Thyestes' son Aegisthus lived there.
But when a safe homecoming appeared even from there,
and the gods turned the wind about, and they came home,
then indeed he stepped gladly on his fatherland
and touched and kissed his own land; and from him many
hot tears poured, since he gladly saw the land.
But a watchman saw him from the lookout, whom
crafty Aegisthus had set there, and he promised him a wage,
two talents of gold; and he kept watch for a year,
in case he passed by unnoticed, and that he might remember his furious valour.
And he went to the house to tell the shepherd of the people.
At once Aegisthus devised a cunning plan;
choosing twenty of the best men in the district
he set them in ambush, and elsewhere he ordered a feast to be prepared.
Then he went to summon Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,
with horses and chariots, thinking unseemly thoughts.
And he brought him up, unknowing of destruction, and killed him
after feasting him, as a man kills an ox at the manger.
Nor did any of Atreus' son's companions who followed him survive,
nor any of Aegisthus' men, but they were killed in the halls.
So he spoke, and my own dear heart was broken within me,
and I wept, sitting in the sands, and my heart
no longer wished to live and see the light of the sun.
But when I had had my fill of weeping and rolling in the dust,
then the truthful old man of the sea spoke to me:
"No longer, son of Atreus, weep thus unceasingly for so long,
since we see no profit in it; but as quickly as you can,
try how you may reach your fatherland.
For either you will find him alive, or Orestes
has killed him first, and you will come upon his funeral."
So he spoke, and my heart and my proud spirit
again were warmed within my breast, though I was grieving,
and I spoke aloud and addressed him with winged words:
"These I know of; but do you name a third man for me,
whoever is still held alive on the wide sea,
or dead; and I wish to hear it, grieving as I am."
So I spoke, and he answered me at once and said:
"The son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.
I saw him on an island, shedding a big tear,
in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him
by force; and he cannot reach his fatherland;
for he has no oared ships and no companions,
who might send him over the broad back of the sea.
But for you, Zeus-fostered Menelaus, it is not fated
to die in horse-pasturing Argos and meet your fate,
but the immortals will send you to the Elysian plain and the ends of the earth,
where fair-haired Rhadamanthys is,
where life is easiest for men.
There is no snow, no violent storm, no rain ever,
but always the breezes of the shrilly blowing West Wind
does Ocean send up to refresh men;
because you have Helen, and are the son-in-law of Zeus."
So speaking, he dove beneath the surging sea.
But I went to the ships with my godlike companions,
and my heart churned greatly within me as I went.
But when we had come down to the ship and the sea,
and we had made ready dinner, and immortal night came on,
then we lay down to sleep on the breakwater of the sea.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
first of all we dragged the ships into the shining salt sea,
and set up masts and sails in the well-balanced ships,
and we ourselves went aboard and sat down on the benches;
and sitting in rows we struck the gray salt water with our oars.
And back to the river of Egypt, rain-fed,
I brought my ships to shore, and offered perfect hecatombs.
But when I had put an end to the anger of the gods who live forever,
I heaped up a tomb for Agamemnon, so that his fame might be unquenchable.
Having finished these things, I sailed home, and the immortals
gave me a fair wind, who sent me swiftly to my dear fatherland.
But come now, stay on in my halls,
until the eleventh day and the twelfth day come;
and then I will send you off well, and give you splendid gifts,
three horses and a well-smoothed chariot; and after that
I will give you a beautiful cup, so that you may pour libations to the gods
immortal, remembering me all your days."
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
"Son of Atreus, do not hold me here for a long time.
For even for a year I would endure staying beside you,
sitting here, and no longing for home or parents would seize me;
for I take great pleasure, hearing your tales and your words.
But already my companions are vexed for me
in holy Pylos; and you are holding me here a long time.
Whatever gift you give me, let it be a treasure;
but horses I will not take to Ithaca, but will leave them
here for you yourself, as an ornament; for you rule over
a wide plain, in which there is much clover, and galingale,
and wheat and spelt and the broad-growing white barley.
But in Ithaca there are no wide courses nor any meadow;
it is goat-pasturing, and more lovely even than horse-pasturing.
For no one of the islands that lean on the sea
is fit for driving horses or rich in meadows; and Ithaca above all."
So he spoke, and good at the war-cry Menelaus smiled,
and stroked him with his hand, and spoke a word and named him:
"Of good blood you are, dear child, by the words you speak.
Then I will change these things for you; for I can.
And of the gifts that lie as treasures in my house,
I will give you the one that is most beautiful and most prized.
I will give you a well-made mixing bowl; it is all
of silver, and its rims are fitted with gold,
the work of Hephaestus. The hero Phaedimus,
king of the Sidonians, gave it to me, when his house sheltered
me as I came home there; and I wish to give it to you."
So the two of them spoke such things to each other,
and the guests went into the halls of the divine king.
They brought sheep, and carried wine that gladdens men;
and their fair-veiled wives sent them bread.
So these busied themselves with dinner in the halls.
But the suitors, in front of Odysseus' house,
were taking their pleasure with quoits and with throwing javelins
on the levelled floor, where they had done it before, in their outrage.
And Antinous was sitting there, and godlike Eurymachus,
the leaders of the suitors, and they were far the best in valour.
And to them Noemon, son of Phronius, came near
and questioned Antinous and said to him:
"Antinous, do we know in our minds, or do we not,
when Telemachus will sail back from sandy Pylos?
He has gone off, taking my ship with him; and I have need of it
to cross over to spacious Elis, where I have
twelve mares, and strong mules beneath them,
unbroken; I would like to drive one away and break it in."
So he spoke, and they were amazed in their hearts; for they did not think
he had gone to Neleian Pylos, but that he was somewhere
there in the fields with the sheep, or with the swineherd.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:
"Tell me truly, when did he go, and which young men
followed with him? Chosen ones of Ithaca, or his own
hirelings and slaves? He could do even that.
And tell me this truly, so that I may know well:
did he take the black ship from you by force, against your will,
or did you give it willingly, since he asked you with words?"
Then Noemon, son of Phronius, answered him:
"I gave it to him willingly myself; what else could another do,
when a man like that, having cares in his heart,
asked for it? It would be hard to refuse the gift.
And the young men who follow him are the ones who are best
in the district among us; and I noticed their leader
going aboard — Mentor, or a god, and he was altogether like him.
But this I marvel at: I saw divine Mentor here
yesterday morning, and then he went aboard the ship for Pylos."
So speaking, he went off to his father's house,
and the proud heart of both of them was vexed.
And they made the suitors sit down together and stopped the contests.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them,
vexed; and his dark heart was greatly filled
with rage, and his two eyes were like blazing fire:
"Oh no, this journey of Telemachus has been accomplished
in great and overweening fashion; and we said it would not be done.
Against our will, the young boy has gone off just so,
having dragged out a ship and chosen the best in the district.
He will begin to be a trouble even farther on; but may Zeus
destroy his strength himself, before he reaches the measure of manhood.
But come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions,
so that I may lie in wait for him as he comes and keep watch
in the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos,
so that his voyage for his father will be a miserable one."
So he spoke, and they all approved and urged it on.
At once then they rose and went to Odysseus' house.
Nor was Penelope unaware for a long time
of the words the suitors were brooding in their hearts;
for the herald Medon told her, who learned their counsels
as he stood outside the courtyard; and they were weaving their plan within.
And he went through the halls to tell Penelope;
and as he crossed the threshold Penelope spoke to him:
"Herald, why did the proud suitors send you?
Is it to tell the maidservants of divine Odysseus
to stop their work and prepare a feast for them?
May they never woo again or meet together elsewhere,
and may they now dine here for the last and final time —
they who gather here so often and cut down my great livelihood,
the property of wise Telemachus; and you never heard
of your own fathers before, when you were children,
what kind of man Odysseus was among your parents,
never doing or saying anything outrageous
in the district — which is the way of divine kings;
one man he might hate, another he might love.
But that man never did anything reckless to any man.
But your temper and your unseemly deeds
are plain, and there is no gratitude for benefits afterwards."
Then Medon, knowing wise things, answered her:
"If only, my queen, this were the greatest evil.
But the suitors are planning something far greater
and more painful, which may the son of Cronus not fulfil:
they mean to kill Telemachus with the sharp bronze
as he comes home; and he has gone to hear of his father
to holy Pylos and to shining Lacedaemon."
So he spoke, and her knees and her own heart gave way beneath her,
and for a long while speechlessness at his words took hold of her; and her two eyes
filled with tears, and her full voice was checked.
And at last she answered him and said:
"Herald, why has my son gone? He has no need
to step aboard swift ships, which are horses of the sea
for men, and carry them over the great wet expanse.
Or is it so that not even his name will be left among men?"
Then Medon, knowing wise things, answered her:
"I do not know whether some god roused him, or whether
his own heart urged him to go to Pylos, so that he might learn
of his father, either his homecoming or what fate he has met."
So speaking, he went off through Odysseus' house.
And heart-destroying grief was poured around her, and she no longer had the strength
to sit on a chair, though many were in the house,
but she sat down on the threshold of the well-wrought chamber,
wailing piteously; and around her the maidservants murmured,
all of them, as many as were young and old in the halls.
And Penelope, grieving shrilly, spoke among them:
"Listen, dear women; for the Olympian has given me sorrows
beyond all women, as many as were raised with me and born with me.
I, who first lost my noble husband, a lion-hearted man,
adorned with every kind of virtue among the Danaans,
a noble man, whose fame is wide through Hellas and mid-Argos.
Now again a storm has snatched away my beloved son
from the halls, without renown, and I did not hear of his setting out.
Cruel women, none of you in your hearts thought
to wake me from my bed, knowing clearly in your hearts
when that man went to the hollow black ship.
For if I had heard that he was planning that journey,
then even though he were eager for the road, he would have stayed,
or he would have left me dead in the halls.
But let someone quickly call old Dolius,
my slave, whom my father gave me before I came here,
and who keeps my orchard of many trees, so that as quickly as possible
he may sit beside Laertes and tell him all this,
in case that man, weaving some plan in his heart,
may go out and complain to the people, who are resolved
to destroy the offspring of him and of godlike Odysseus."
Then her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:
"Dear child, you may kill me with the pitiless bronze,
or let me live in the hall; I will not hide the word from you.
I knew all this, and I gave him whatever he asked for,
bread and sweet wine; but he took a great oath from me
not to tell you before the twelfth day had come,
or before you yourself missed him and heard of his setting out,
so that you would not weep and mar your fair skin.
But go wash yourself, put clean clothes on your body,
and go up to the upper room with your waiting women,
and pray to Athena, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis;
for she may then save him even from death.
And do not afflict the old man, who is already afflicted; for I do not think
that the blessed gods altogether hate the offspring of Arcesius,
but there is still someone who will hold
the high-roofed house and the rich fields far away."
So she spoke, and lulled her weeping, and checked her eyes from tears.
And she, washed, with clean clothes on her body,
went up to the upper room with her waiting women,
and put barley groats in a basket, and prayed to Athena:
"Hear me, child of Zeus who holds the aegis, unwearied one,
if ever Odysseus of many counsels in his halls
burned for you the rich thighbones of an ox or a sheep,
remember those now for me, and save my dear son,
and drive away the suitors who wickedly overreach."
So speaking, she wailed aloud, and the goddess heard her prayer.
And the suitors made an uproar through the shadowy halls;
and thus one of the proud young men would say:
"Surely now the much-wooed queen is preparing
a wedding for us, and she does not know that death has been prepared for her son."
So one of them would say, but they did not know how it had been arranged.
Then Antinous spoke to them and addressed them:
"Strange men, avoid all your overweening words
alike, in case someone reports them even inside.
But come, let us rise in silence and carry out
the plan, which has pleased us all in our hearts."
So speaking, he chose twenty of the best men,
and they went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.
First of all they dragged the ship down into the depths of the salt sea,
and set up the mast and the sails in the black ship,
and fitted the oars in their leather thongs,
all in order, and spread the white sails;
and their high-hearted squires brought them their weapons.
And they moored her out in the water, and went ashore themselves;
and there they took dinner, and waited for evening to come.
But thoughtful Penelope lay up in her upper room,
without food, without taste of meat or drink,
turning over in her mind whether her blameless son would escape death,
or whether he would be overpowered by the overweening suitors.
And as many thoughts as a lion in a crowd of men
turns over in fear, when they lead him in a treacherous circle,
so many thoughts came over her, and then sweet sleep came on her;
and she slept, leaning back, and all her limbs were loosed.
Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, thought of another thing:
she made a phantom, and shaped it like a woman,
Iphthime, the daughter of great-hearted Icarius,
whom Eumelus married, living in Pherae.
And she sent her to the house of divine Odysseus,
so that she might make Penelope, mourning and wailing,
cease from weeping and from tearful lamentation.
She came into the chamber by the thong of the door-bar,
and stood above her head, and spoke a word to her:
"Are you sleeping, Penelope, with a heart grieved?
The gods who live at ease do not let you
weep or be distressed, since your son is still
one who will come home; for he is not guilty in the eyes of the gods."
Then thoughtful Penelope answered her,
slumbering very sweetly at the gates of dreams:
"Sister, why have you come here? You never came here
before, since you live very far away.
And you bid me cease from my misery and my many
pains, which stir me in my heart and spirit —
I, who first lost my noble husband, a lion-hearted man,
adorned with every kind of virtue among the Danaans,
a noble man, whose fame is wide through Hellas and mid-Argos;
now again my beloved son has gone in a hollow ship,
a foolish boy, knowing nothing well of toils or of assemblies.
For him I grieve even more than for that other man;
for him I tremble and fear, in case something happens to him,
either among the people where he has gone, or on the sea;
for many enemies are plotting against him,
eager to kill him before he reaches his fatherland."
Then the dim phantom answered her and said:
"Take courage, and do not fear too greatly in your heart;
for such a guide goes with him, one whom other men
also have prayed to stand beside them, and she can,
Pallas Athena; and she pities you in your grief;
she it is who now sent me to tell you this."
Then thoughtful Penelope answered her:
"If you are a god and have heard the voice of a god,
come then, tell me also of that wretched man,
whether he is still alive and sees the light of the sun,
or whether he is already dead in the house of Hades."
Then the dim phantom answered her and said:
"I will not tell you of that man at all exactly,
whether he lives or is dead; and it is wrong to speak empty words."
So speaking, it slipped away past the door-bar of the hall
into the blasts of the winds. And she started up from sleep,
the daughter of Icarius; and her own heart was warmed,
since the dream had come to her clearly in the dead of night.
But the suitors went aboard and sailed over the watery ways,
planning steep slaughter for Telemachus in their hearts.
There is a certain rocky island in the middle of the sea,
between Ithaca and rugged Samos,
Asteris, not large; and there are two harbours in it where ships can lie,
double-mouthed; there the Achaeans lay in wait for him.

### Book 5

rosy-fingered Dawn rose up from her bed, from beside lordly Tithonus,
to bring light to the deathless gods and to mortal men;
and the gods were taking their seats in assembly, and among them
was Zeus who thunders on high, whose power is greatest of all.
And among them Athena was recounting the many sorrows of Odysseus,
remembering him; for she grieved that he dwelt in the halls of the nymph.
"Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,
let no sceptered king hereafter be kindly, gentle, and mild,
nor one who knows righteous things within his heart;
but let him always be harsh and do deeds of outrage,
since no one remembers godlike Odysseus,
of the peoples he ruled — and he was gentle as a father.
But he lies on an island, suffering mighty sorrows,
in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him by force
and will not let him go; and he cannot reach his own fatherland,
for he has no oared ships beside him, nor companions
who might send him over the broad back of the sea.
And now they are eager to slay his dear son
as he comes home; and he went to seek tidings of his father
to holy Pylos and to shining Lacedaemon."
Then the cloud-gatherer Zeus answered her and said:
"My child, what word has escaped the fence of your teeth?
Was it not you yourself who devised this purpose,
that Odysseus should come and take vengeance on those men?
And Telemachus — send him yourself with skill, for you have the power,
so that he may reach his own fatherland wholly unharmed,
and the suitors may sail home again,
defeated back the way they came." So he spoke, and to his dear son Hermes he said:
"Hermes, since you are in all else too our messenger,
speak to the fair-tressed nymph a sure counsel,
the homecoming of steadfast-hearted Odysseus, that he may return
with no escort from gods or from mortal men;
but let him on a close-bound raft, suffering pains,
come on the twentieth day to fertile Scheria,
to the land of the Phaeacians, who are near kin to the gods;
they will honor him in their hearts as though he were a god,
and will send him in a ship to his dear fatherland,
giving him bronze and gold in plenty and raiment,
gifts as many as Odysseus never carried off from Troy,
even if he had come home unscathed, taking his allotted share of the spoil.
For so it is his fate to see his loved ones and to come
to his high-roofed house and to his own fatherland."
So he spoke, and the slayer of Argus did not disobey him.
At once he bound beneath his feet his beautiful sandals,
immortal, golden, which bear him over the wet sea
and over the boundless land with the blasts of the wind.
And he took the wand with which he charms the eyes of men,
of whom he will, and wakes others again though they sleep.
Holding this in his hands, the strong slayer of Argus flew.
Over Pieria he passed, and swooped down from the upper air upon the sea;
then he rushed upon the waves, like a gull
that over the terrible gulfs of the barren sea
hunts fish and dips its thick feathers in the brine.
Like that bird, Hermes rode over the many waves.
But when he came to the island that lay far off,
there he stepped out of the violet sea onto the mainland
and went on until he came to the great cave, wherein the nymph
of the fair tresses dwelt; and he found her within.
A great fire was burning on the hearth, and far away the smell
of split cedar and juniper spread over the island
as they burned; and she within, singing with a beautiful voice,
paced at the loom and wove with a golden shuttle.
And a wood grew flourishing all about the cave,
alder and poplar and sweet-smelling cypress.
There too the long-winged birds made their beds,
owls and hawks and sea-crows of the long tongue,
sea-birds whose business is upon the water.
And around the hollow cave a thriving vine was spread,
in its prime, and it flourished with clusters of grapes.
And four springs flowed in a row with white water,
close to one another, each turned its own way.
And round about, soft meadows of violet and parsley
bloomed. There even an immortal, coming upon it,
would marvel at the sight and delight in his heart.
There the slayer of Argus stood and marveled.
But when he had marveled at all with his heart,
at once he went into the wide cave. And seeing him face to face,
Calypso, the shining among goddesses, did not fail to know him;
for the immortal gods never fail to know one another,
even if one has his halls far off.
But he did not find great-hearted Odysseus within,
but he sat weeping on the shore, where he had always sat,
wasting his heart with tears and groans and sorrows,
and gazing over the barren sea, shedding tears.
And Calypso, the shining among goddesses, questioned Hermes,
having seated him on a bright and shining throne:
"Why have you come to me, Hermes of the golden wand,
honored and dear? You do not come here often.
Speak what is in your mind; my heart bids me accomplish it,
if I can accomplish it, and if it is to be accomplished.
But come further in, so that I may set guest-gifts before you."
So speaking, the goddess set out a table before him,
filling it with ambrosia, and mixed the red nectar.
And the slayer of Argus drank and ate.
But when he had dined and cheered his heart with food,
then he answered her and spoke these words:
"You ask me, a god, why I have come, goddess; and I
will tell you the matter truly; for you bid me.
Zeus sent me here against my will,
and who would willingly run across so great a stretch of salt water,
measureless as it is? No city of mortals is near at hand, no men
who offer sacrifices to the gods and chosen hecatombs.
But there is no way at all to evade the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus
or to slip past it, for any other god.
He says a man is here, the most wretched of all others,
of those men who fought around the city of Priam
for nine years, and in the tenth sacked the city and went
home; but on the homeward way they sinned against Athena,
who roused against them a foul wind and long waves.
There all the rest of his noble companions perished,
but the wind and the wave brought him here.
Him he now bids you send away as quickly as may be;
for it is not his fate to perish here, far from his loved ones,
but it is still his fate to see his loved ones and to come
to his high-roofed house and his own fatherland."
So he spoke, and Calypso shuddered, the shining among goddesses,
and speaking to him she addressed him with winged words:
"Hard are you gods, and jealous beyond all others,
you who are jealous when goddesses lie with men
openly, if one makes a mortal her dear husband.
So when rosy-fingered Dawn took Orion,
all the while you gods who live at ease were jealous of him,
until in Ortygia pure Artemis of the golden throne
came upon him with her gentle arrows and slew him.
And so when Demeter of the fair tresses, yielding
in her heart, lay with Iasion in love and in bed
in a thrice-plowed field, nor was Zeus long without word of it,
who struck him with a bright thunderbolt and slew him.
So now you gods are jealous of me, that a mortal man is with me.
Him I saved, when he was clinging to the keel alone,
after Zeus had struck his swift ship with a bright thunderbolt
and shattered it in the midst of the wine-dark sea.
There all the rest of his noble companions perished,
but the wind and the wave brought him here.
Him I loved and cherished, and I said I would make him
immortal and ageless for all his days.
But since there is no way at all to evade the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus
or to slip past it, for any other god,
let him go, if that god urges and bids him,
over the barren sea; but I will not send him on any path.
For I have no oared ships beside me, nor companions
who might send him over the broad back of the sea.
But I will gladly advise him, and conceal nothing,
so that he may reach his own fatherland wholly unharmed."
Then the slayer of Argus answered her and said:
"Send him away now, then, and fear the wrath of Zeus,
lest he be angry with you hereafter and make it hard for you."
So speaking, the strong slayer of Argus departed;
and the queenly nymph went to great-hearted Odysseus,
now that she had heard the message of Zeus.
And she found him sitting on the shore; his eyes were never
dry of tears, and his sweet life was draining away
as he wept for his homecoming, since the nymph no longer pleased him.
Truly he slept at night, and by compulsion,
in the hollow caves, unwilling beside the willing one;
but by day he would sit on the rocks and the shores,
wasting his heart with tears and groans and sorrows,
and gazing over the barren sea, shedding tears.
And standing near him, the shining among goddesses spoke:
"Unhappy man, do not grieve here any longer, and do not let your life
waste away; for now I will send you off with a ready heart.
Come, cut long timbers and fit them with bronze
into a broad raft; and build a deck upon it
high up, so that it may carry you over the misty sea.
And I will put aboard food and water and red wine,
heart-cheering things, which will hold off hunger from you,
and I will clothe you in garments; and I will send a fair wind behind you,
so that you may reach your own fatherland wholly unharmed,
if the gods are willing, who hold the broad heaven,
who are stronger than I to devise and to accomplish."
So she spoke, and much-enduring shining Odysseus shuddered,
and speaking to her he addressed her with winged words:
"Goddess, you are devising something else here, and no escort,
when you bid me cross the great gulf of the sea on a raft,
a terrible and painful thing; not even well-built ships
cross it, swift as they are, exulting in the wind of Zeus.
And I would not set foot on a raft against your will,
unless you would dare, goddess, to swear me a great oath
that you will not devise some other evil harm against me myself."
So he spoke, and Calypso smiled, the shining among goddesses,
and stroked him with her hand, and spoke and called him by name:
"Ah, you are a rogue, and no fool, to have thought
to speak such a word as this.
Let the earth now know this, and the broad heaven above,
and the downward-flowing water of the Styx, which is the greatest
and most terrible oath for the blessed gods:
that I will not devise some other evil harm against you yourself.
But I think and devise such things as
I would devise for myself, when such need came upon me.
For my mind too is righteous, and in my own breast
my heart is not of iron, but is pitiful."
So speaking, the shining among goddesses led the way
swiftly; and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.
And they came to the hollow cave, the god and the man;
and he sat down there on the throne from which Hermes had risen,
and the nymph set all manner of food before him,
to eat and to drink, such things as mortal men eat;
and she sat down facing godlike Odysseus,
and her maids set ambrosia and nectar beside her.
And they reached out their hands to the good things set before them.
But when they had taken their pleasure in food and drink,
then Calypso began to speak among them, the shining among goddesses:
"Zeus-born son of Laertes, much-devising Odysseus,
so now you are eager to go home to your dear fatherland
at once? Farewell to you, then, even so.
If you but knew in your heart how many sorrows
it is your fate to fill up before you reach your fatherland,
you would stay here with me and keep this house,
and be immortal, though you long to see
your wife, for whom you yearn all your days.
I do not claim to be in any way worse than she is,
neither in body nor in stature; for it is not seemly
for mortal women to contend with immortal goddesses in body and form."
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
"Queenly goddess, do not be angry with me for this; I myself know
all this full well: that thoughtful Penelope
is less in beauty and in stature, seen beside you.
For she is mortal, and you are immortal and ageless.
But even so I wish and long all my days
to go home and to see the day of my return.
And if some god smashes me on the wine-dark sea,
I will endure it, holding a patient heart in my breast.
For already I have suffered many things and toiled much
in waves and in war; let this too be added to those."
So he spoke, and the sun set and darkness came on;
and the two went into the inner part of the hollow cave
and took their pleasure in love, staying beside one another.
And when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
at once Odysseus put on his cloak and tunic,
and the nymph herself put on a great silvery robe,
fine and lovely, and about her waist she cast a belt
beautiful and golden, and over her head a veil.
And then she began to plan the escort for great-hearted Odysseus:
she gave him a great axe, fitted to his hands,
of bronze, sharpened on both sides; and in it
was a very beautiful handle of olive wood, well fitted.
Then she gave him a polished adze; and she led the way
to the farthest edge of the island, where tall trees grew,
alder and poplar and fir that reached to the sky,
dry long since and seasoned through, that would float lightly for him.
But when she had shown him where the tall trees grew,
Calypso went back toward her house, the shining among goddesses,
and he cut the timbers; and quickly his work was finished.
He brought out twenty in all and hewed them with the bronze,
and smoothed them skillfully and trued them to a line.
Meanwhile Calypso brought him augers, the shining among goddesses;
and he bored them all through and fitted them to one another,
and he hammered it fast with pegs and with joints.
As much as a man shapes the bottom of a broad merchant ship,
one who knows carpentry well,
so much did Odysseus make of the broad raft.
And he set up the deck, fitting it with close-set stanchions,
and made it; and he finished it with long side-beams.
And in it he made a mast and a yard fitted to it,
and he made a steering-oar besides, to steer her by.
And he fenced it through and through with osier wicker
to be a shield against the waves; and he heaped on much timber.
Meanwhile Calypso brought him cloth, the shining among goddesses,
to make sails withal; and those too he fashioned well.
And in it he bound braces and ropes and sheets,
and he hauled it down with levers into the shining sea.
It was the fourth day, and all things were finished for him;
and on the fifth the shining Calypso sent him from the island,
having bathed him and clothed him in sweet-smelling garments.
And the goddess put aboard a skin of dark wine,
one of the two, and the other a great one of water, and a sack
of grain; and she set out many heart-cheering foods for him.
And she sent a wind, harmless and gentle.
And glad at the wind, shining Odysseus spread his sails.
And he steered her skillfully with the steering-oar,
sitting; and sleep never fell upon his eyelids,
as he watched the Pleiades and the late-setting Bear-ward
and the Bear, which men also call the Wagon by name,
which turns in its own place and watches for Orion,
and alone has no share in the baths of Ocean.
For Calypso, the shining among goddesses, had told him
to keep it on his left hand as he crossed the sea.
Seventeen days he sailed, crossing the sea;
and on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains appeared,
the land of the Phaeacians, where it lay nearest to him;
and it looked like a shield of hide in the misty sea.
And the lord Earthshaker, coming back from the Ethiopians,
saw it from far off, from the Solymi mountains; for it appeared
to him as he sailed upon the sea. And he was angrier in his heart,
and shaking his head he spoke to his own heart:
"Ah, surely the gods have changed their counsel
about Odysseus, while I was among the Ethiopians,
and now he is near the land of the Phaeacians, where it is his fate
to escape the great limit of the misery that comes upon him.
But still I think I will drive him deep into misery."
So saying, he gathered the clouds and stirred up the sea,
taking his trident in his hands; and he roused all the blasts
of every kind of wind, and with clouds he covered
both land and sea together; and night rushed down from heaven.
And the East Wind and the South Wind fell upon him, and the harsh West Wind
and the North Wind born in the clear air, rolling a great wave.
And then the knees of Odysseus gave way, and his dear heart,
and troubled he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:
"Ah, wretched me — what will become of me at the last?
I fear the goddess told me all things truly,
she who said that on the sea, before I reach my fatherland,
I would fill up sorrows; and now all this is being fulfilled.
With what clouds Zeus wraps the broad heaven round,
and he has stirred the sea, and the blasts rush on
of every kind of wind. Now my sure destruction is at hand.
Thrice blessed and four times are the Danaans who died then,
in broad Troy, bringing joy to the sons of Atreus.
Would that I too had died and met my fate
on that day when the most of the Trojans hurled
their bronze-tipped spears at me around the fallen son of Peleus.
Then I would have had my funeral rites, and the Achaeans would carry my fame;
but now it is my fate to be caught in a wretched death."
So speaking, a great wave struck him on the crest,
rushing terribly upon him, and spun the raft around.
He himself fell far from the raft, and the steering-oar
he let go from his hands; and the mast in the middle was broken
by the terrible squall that came as the winds mixed together,
and the sail and the yard fell far away into the sea.
And it held him beneath the water a long while, and he could not
rise up quickly from the rush of the great wave;
for the garments weighed him down, which shining Calypso had given him.
At last he came up, and spat the bitter brine
from his mouth, which poured in quantity from his head.
But not even so did he forget the raft, though he was spent,
but he rushed back through the waves and caught hold of it,
and sat down in the middle of it, shunning the doom of death.
And the great wave carried it along the current this way and that.
And as when in late summer the North Wind carries thistledown
across the plain, and the tufts hold close to one another,
so the winds carried it across the deep this way and that;
sometimes the South Wind threw it to the North Wind to carry,
and sometimes again the East Wind yielded to the West Wind to pursue.
And the daughter of Cadmus saw him, fair-ankled Ino,
Leucothea, who once was a mortal with a human voice,
but now in the depths of the sea has a share of the honor of the gods.
She pitied Odysseus as he wandered, holding sorrows,
and she rose up from the water like a shearwater in flight,
and sat upon the close-bound raft and spoke a word:
"Unhappy man, why is Poseidon the Earthshaker
so terribly angry with you, that he plants so many evils for you?
He will not destroy you, though he is very eager to.
But do exactly this — you do not seem to me to be a fool:
strip off these garments and leave the raft to be carried by the winds,
and lay hold with your hands and strive for your homecoming
to the land of the Phaeacians, where it is your fate to escape.
There, spread this veil beneath your chest,
an immortal thing; and you need not fear to suffer or to perish.
But when you have laid hold of the mainland with your hands,
loosen it again and throw it into the wine-dark sea,
far from the land, and turn away yourself."
So speaking, the goddess gave him the veil,
and she herself dove back into the surging sea
like a shearwater; and the dark wave covered her.
But much-enduring shining Odysseus pondered,
and troubled he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:
"Ah, me — lest one of the immortals is weaving a snare for me again,
one who bids me leave the raft.
But I will not obey, not yet, since with my eyes I saw
the land far off, where she said escape was for me.
But I will do exactly this, and it seems to me best:
as long as the timbers hold together in their joints,
so long will I stay here and endure, suffering sorrows;
but when the wave shakes the raft apart for me,
then I will swim, since nothing better is at hand to plan."
While he was turning these things over in his mind and heart,
Poseidon the Earthshaker roused a great wave against him,
terrible and painful and towering, and drove it at him.
And as when a violent wind shakes a heap of dry chaff
on the threshing floor, and scatters it all this way and that,
so it scattered the long timbers of the raft. But Odysseus
climbed astride a single timber, riding it like a horse,
and stripped off the garments that shining Calypso had given him.
And at once he spread the veil beneath his chest,
and himself fell face down into the salt sea, stretching out his hands,
eager to swim. And the lord Earthshaker saw him,
and shaking his head he spoke to his own heart:
"So now, having suffered many evils, go wandering over the sea,
until you come among men who are reared by Zeus.
But not even so do I think you will make light of your misery."
So speaking, he lashed his beautiful-maned horses,
and came to Aegae, where his famous house stands.
But Athena, the daughter of Zeus, thought of another thing.
She bound fast the paths of the other winds,
and commanded them all to cease and to sleep;
and she roused the swift North Wind, and broke the waves before him,
until Zeus-born Odysseus, escaping death and the fates,
might come among the Phaeacians who love the oar.
There for two nights and two days on the solid swell
he drifted, and many times his heart foresaw destruction.
But when the fair-tressed Dawn brought the third day to its end,
then the wind ceased, and there came a windless calm,
and he saw land close by,
gazing sharply ahead as he was lifted by the great wave.
And as when life appears welcome to children,
when their father lies in sickness, suffering mighty sorrows,
wasting away a long time, and a hateful spirit besets him,
and then the gods gladly release him from his misery,
so welcome seemed the land and the wood to Odysseus,
and he swam eagerly to set his feet upon the mainland.
But when he was as far off as a man's voice carries,
he heard the booming of the sea against the rocks;
for the great wave roared against the dry land,
bellowing terribly, and all was wrapped in the foam of the sea;
for there were no harbors to hold ships, nor anchorages,
but jutting headlands and rocks and cliffs;
and then the knees of Odysseus gave way, and his dear heart,
and troubled he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:
"Ah me, since Zeus has granted me to see unexpected land,
and I have cut across this gulf and come through,
no way out of the gray sea appears anywhere;
for outside stand sharp cliffs, and about them the wave
roars with the surf, and the smooth rock rises up,
and the sea is deep close in, and there is no way with my feet
to stand on both of them and escape the misery.
Lest as I come out a great wave snatch me and cast me
against the jagged rock; and my effort will be useless.
But if I swim further on, in the hope that I may find
sloping shores and harbors of the sea,
I fear that a squall may snatch me up again
and carry me over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily,
or some great sea-monster may be roused against me by a god
out of the sea, such as famous Amphitrite breeds in numbers.
For I know well how the famous Earthshaker hates me."
While he was turning these things over in his mind and heart,
meanwhile a great wave carried him toward the rough shore.
There his skin would have been torn from him and his bones crushed,
had not the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, put it in his mind;
rushing forward he caught at the rock with both hands,
and clung to it groaning, until the great wave had passed by.
And so he escaped that one, but the backwash wave struck
him again as it rushed on, and cast him far out into the sea.
And as when a polypus is dragged from its hole,
and the thick pebbles cling to its suckers,
so from his bold hands against the rocks
his skin was torn away; and the great wave covered him.
Then wretched Odysseus would have perished beyond his fate,
had not bright-eyed Athena given him understanding.
Rising up out of the wave that gushes toward the mainland,
he swam along, looking toward land, if somewhere he might find
sloping shores and harbors of the sea.
But when he came swimming to the mouth of a fair-flowing river,
there where the place seemed best to him,
smooth of rocks, and there was shelter from the wind,
he knew the stream flowing out and prayed in his heart:
"Hear me, lord, whoever you are; I come to you, much-prayed-to,
fleeing from the sea and the rebuke of Poseidon.
Reverend even among the immortal gods is any man
who comes as a wanderer, as I now come
to your stream and your knees, having toiled much.
But have pity, lord; I declare myself your suppliant."
So he spoke, and the river at once checked its stream and stayed its wave,
and made a calm before him, and saved him
into the river's mouth. And he bent both knees
and his strong hands; for his dear heart was overcome by the sea.
His whole skin was swollen, and much seawater gushed
from his mouth and nostrils; and he lay breathless and speechless,
with little strength left, and terrible weariness came upon him.
But when he had breathed again and the spirit gathered in his chest,
then he loosed the veil of the goddess from himself.
And he let it fall into the sea-swelling river,
and a great wave carried it back down the stream, and quickly Ino
received it in her dear hands; and he, turning aside from the river,
leaned down in a bed of rushes and kissed the life-giving earth.
And troubled he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:
"Ah me, what shall I suffer? What will become of me at the last?
If I keep a painful watch through the night by the river,
lest together the wicked frost and the soft dew
overcome me and drain my spirit with faintness,
and a cold breeze blows from the river before dawn,
but if I go up the slope and lie down in the shady wood,
in the thick bushes, if cold and weariness let me go
and sweet sleep comes over me,
I fear that I may become the prey and spoil of wild beasts."
So as he thought it over, this seemed to him better:
he went into the wood, and found it near the water
in an open place; and he crept under two bushes
that had grown from one spot; one was wild olive, the other was cultivated olive.
The strength of the wet-blowing winds could not blow through them,
nor did the shining sun ever strike them with its rays,
nor did rain pass through; so thick were they,
grown one through the other. Under them Odysseus
crept. And at once he heaped up a bed with his dear hands,
a broad one; for there was a pile of leaves in abundance,
enough to shelter two or three men
in the winter season, even if it were very harsh.
Seeing it, much-enduring shining Odysseus rejoiced,
and he lay down in the middle of it, and heaped a pile of leaves over himself.
And as when a man hides a firebrand in black ashes
at the farthest edge of a field, where there are no neighbors near,
saving the seed of fire, so that it may not be kindled from elsewhere,
so Odysseus covered himself with leaves; and Athena
poured sleep over his eyes, so that she might put an end to him
most quickly, covering his dear eyelids from the toil of weariness.

### Book 6

So the much-enduring noble Odysseus slept there,
overcome by sleep and toil; but Athena
went to the people and the city of the Phaeacian men,
who once long ago dwelt in broad Hypereia,
near the Cyclopes, men of overweening pride,
who kept harrying them, and were stronger in might than they.
From there godlike Nausithous led them and settled them
in Scheria, far from men who toil for bread,
and he drove a wall about the city, and built houses,
and made temples of the gods, and divided out the fields.
But he had already gone down to Hades, subdued by death,
and then Alcinous ruled, knowing counsel from the gods.
To his house went the goddess, grey-eyed Athena,
planning the return of great-hearted Odysseus.
She went to the richly-wrought chamber, wherein a maiden
slept, like the immortal goddesses in stature and in form,
Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,
and beside her two handmaids, having beauty from the Graces,
on either side of the doorposts; and the shining doors were shut.
Like a breath of wind she rushed to the maiden's bed,
and stood above her head, and spoke a word to her,
appearing as the daughter of Dymas, famed for his ships,
who was of her own age, and was dear to her heart.
Resembling her, grey-eyed Athena spoke to her:
Nausicaa, why did your mother bear you so careless of all this?
Your garments lie neglected, all of them shining; and
your marriage is near at hand, when you must dress yourself
in lovely things, and give others to those who lead you.
For from such things good report goes up among men,
and father and honored mother both rejoice.
But let us go to wash at the appearing Dawn;
and I will follow with you as a fellow-worker, so that most quickly
you may be ready, since you shall be a maiden no longer;
for already the noblest men throughout the district
of all the Phaeacians woo you, where your own lineage is.
But come, urge your glorious father at early dawn
to make ready the mules and the wagon, which may carry
your girdles and robes and shining coverlets.
And for you yourself it is far better than going
on foot; for the washing places are far from the city.
So saying, grey-eyed Athena departed
to Olympus, where they say the gods' seat is forever
secure. It is not shaken by any winds, nor ever
wet with rain, nor does snow come near it, but a clear sky
is spread out unclouded, and a white radiance runs over it;
in it the blessed gods take delight all their days.
There grey-eyed Athena went, when she had told the maiden all.
Straightway came Dawn of the lovely throne, who woke
fair-robed Nausicaa; and at once she marveled at the dream,
and she went through the house, to tell her parents,
her dear father and her mother; and she found them within.
Her mother sat at the hearth with her women handmaids,
spinning sea-purple wool; and her father she met
as he went out among the glorious kings,
to the council, where the proud Phaeacians called him.
Standing very near, she spoke to her dear father:
Dear papa, would you not make ready for me a wagon
high and well-wheeled, so that I may carry the glorious garments
to the river to wash, which lie soiled for me?
And it is fitting for you too, sitting among the foremost,
to plan counsels wearing clean garments on your body.
For five dear sons have been born to you in the halls,
two of them married, and three flourishing young men;
and these always wish, having newly-washed garments,
to go to the dance; and all this is a care to my heart.
So she spoke; for she was ashamed to name her blooming marriage
to her dear father. But he understood all and answered with a word:
I do not begrudge you the mules, child, nor anything else.
Go on; and the servants shall make ready the wagon,
high and well-wheeled, fitted above with a frame.
So saying he called to the servants, and they obeyed.
They outside drew out the well-wheeled mule-wagon
and brought up the mules and yoked them beneath the wagon;
and the girl brought shining clothing from the chamber.
And she laid it down on the well-polished wagon,
and her mother put in a basket satisfying food
of every kind, and put in relishes, and poured in wine
in a goatskin; and the girl climbed onto the wagon.
And she gave in a golden flask liquid olive oil,
so that she might anoint herself with her women handmaids.
And she took the whip and the shining reins,
and lashed to drive; and there was a clatter of the two mules.
They strained unceasingly, and carried the clothing and her,
not her alone, for with her the other handmaids went as well.
When they came to the beautiful stream of the river,
where the washing places were unfailing, and abundant water
flowed out, very good for cleansing even soiled things,
there they released the mules from the wagon.
And they drove them along the eddying river
to graze on honey-sweet grass; and they from the wagon
took the clothing in their hands and carried it into the dark water,
and trod them in the trenches swiftly, striving in rivalry.
But when they had washed and cleansed away all the dirt,
they spread them in order along the shore of the sea, where most
the sea washed up pebbles toward the dry land.
And they, having bathed and anointed themselves richly with oil,
then took their meal beside the banks of the river,
and the garments waited for the sun's rays to dry them.
But when the maids and she herself had had their fill of food,
they played at ball, having thrown off their headdresses;
and white-armed Nausicaa began the song for them.
As the arrow-pouring Artemis goes down the mountains,
either along tall Taygetus or Erymanthus,
taking delight in boars and swift deer;
and with her the nymphs, daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus,
the field-dwelling ones, play, and Leto rejoices in heart;
and above all of them she holds her head and brow,
and easily is she known, and all of them are beautiful;
so the unwedded maiden stood out among her handmaids.
But when she was about to return home again,
having yoked the mules and folded the beautiful garments,
then again the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, thought of another thing:
that Odysseus might wake, and see the fair-faced maiden,
who might guide him to the city of the Phaeacian men.
Then the princess threw the ball at a handmaid;
she missed the handmaid, and threw it into a deep eddy;
and they cried out greatly; and noble Odysseus woke,
and sitting up he pondered in his mind and heart:
Alas for me! To the land of what mortals have I come now?
Are they violent and savage and not just,
or hospitable, and is their mind god-fearing?
As of maidens a female cry came around me,
of nymphs, who hold the steep peaks of the mountains
and the springs of rivers and the grassy meadows.
Or am I somewhere near men of human speech?
But come, I will myself make trial and see.
So saying, noble Odysseus crept out from under the bushes,
and from the thick wood broke a leafy branch with his stout hand,
full of leaves, to cover the man's private parts about his body.
He went like a mountain-bred lion trusting in his might,
who goes on wet and windblown, and in him his two eyes
burn; but he goes after cattle or sheep
or wild deer; and his belly bids him
to try for the flocks and come into the close-built fold;
so Odysseus was about to mix with the fair-tressed girls,
though naked; for need had come upon him.
He appeared dreadful to them, marred by the brine,
and they fled this way and that to the jutting shores;
but the daughter of Alcinous alone stood fast; for Athena
put courage in her heart and took fear from her limbs.
She stood facing him and held her ground; and Odysseus pondered,
whether he should clasp her knees and beg the fair-faced maiden,
or beg her from afar with gentle words,
that she might show him the city and give him clothing.
Thus to him thinking, it seemed the better thing
to beg with gentle words from afar,
lest, if he clasped her knees, the maiden be angered in heart.
Straightway he spoke a gentle and winning word:
I beseech you, lady: are you some god, or a mortal?
If you are some god, one of those who hold the wide heaven,
then to Artemis, daughter of great Zeus, I
liken you most nearly in form and stature and build.
But if you are one of mortals, who dwell upon the earth,
thrice blessed are your father and your honored mother,
thrice blessed are your brothers; surely their heart
is ever warmed with gladness because of you,
as they look on such a young shoot entering the dance.
But he is beyond others most blessed in heart,
who, weighing you down with bride-gifts, leads you home.
For never yet have I seen with my eyes such a mortal,
neither man nor woman; awe takes me as I look.
On Delos once, such a thing beside the altar of Apollo,
a young shoot of a palm growing up, I noticed;
for I went there too, and much people followed with me,
on the journey on which evils were to befall me.
And just so, seeing that, I marveled in my heart
for a long while, since never yet had such a tree come up from the earth,
as you, lady, I wonder at and marvel at, and I dread greatly
to touch your knees; but a harsh grief comes upon me.
Yesterday, on the twentieth day, I escaped the wine-dark sea;
meanwhile the wave and the swift storms kept bearing me
from the island of Ogygia. Now a god has cast me here,
that I may perhaps suffer evil even here too; for I do not think
it will cease, but the gods will yet accomplish many things first.
But, lady, have pity; for after suffering many evils
I have come to you first, and of the others I know no one
of the men who hold this city and this land.
Show me the town, and give me a rag to wrap myself,
if perhaps you had some wrapping of cloths when you came here.
May the gods give you as much as you desire in your heart:
a husband and a house, and may they grant you good
like-mindedness; for there is nothing better or nobler
than when a man and wife hold a house
of one mind in their thoughts; great grief to their enemies,
but joy to their well-wishers, and most of all they themselves hear of it.
And white-armed Nausicaa answered him in turn:
Stranger, since you seem neither a base man nor a foolish one,
Zeus himself, the Olympian, dispenses wealth to men,
to the good and the bad, to each as he wishes;
and perhaps he has given this to you, and you must endure it nevertheless.
But now, since you have come to our city and land,
you shall lack neither clothing nor anything else
that is fitting for a stricken suppliant who meets one.
I will show you the town, and I will tell you the name of the people.
The Phaeacians hold this city and this land,
and I am the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,
and from him come the strength and power of the Phaeacians.
She spoke, and called to her fair-tressed handmaids:
Stand by me, handmaids; where do you flee, having seen a man?
Surely you do not think him some hostile man?
There is no such living mortal man, nor shall there be,
who will come to the land of the Phaeacian men
bringing war; for they are very dear to the immortals.
We dwell apart in the much-surging sea,
at the farthest edge, and no other mortal mixes with us.
But this is some wretched wanderer who has come here,
whom we must now care for; for all are from Zeus,
both strangers and beggars, and the gift is small yet dear.
But give, handmaids, to the stranger food and drink,
and bathe him in the river, where there is shelter from the wind.
So she spoke, and they stood and called to one another,
and they seated Odysseus in the shelter, as Nausicaa
the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous had commanded;
and beside him they laid a cloak and tunic, clothing,
and gave in a golden flask liquid olive oil,
and urged him to bathe in the streams of the river.
Then noble Odysseus spoke to the handmaids:
Handmaids, stand thus away from me, so that I myself
may wash the brine from my shoulders, and about me with oil
anoint myself; for long has the anointing been from my skin.
And I will not bathe in front of you; for I am ashamed
to strip naked among fair-tressed girls.
So he spoke, and they went away, and told the girl.
But noble Odysseus washed from his body in the river
the brine, which covered his back and broad shoulders,
and from his head he wiped the scurf of the barren sea.
But when he had bathed all and anointed richly with oil,
and put on the clothing which the unwedded maiden gave him,
then Athena, born of Zeus, made him
greater to look on and broader, and down from his head
she sent curling hair, like a hyacinth flower.
As when a man pours gold over silver,
a skilled man, whom Hephaestus taught and Pallas Athena
every kind of craft, and he makes graceful works,
so she poured grace over his head and shoulders.
Then he went and sat apart on the shore of the sea,
shining with beauty and graces; and the maiden looked at him.
Then she spoke to her fair-tressed handmaids:
Hear me, white-armed handmaids, so that I may say something.
Not against the will of all the gods, who hold Olympus,
does this man mix with the godlike Phaeacians;
for before he seemed to me unseemly,
but now he is like the gods, who hold the wide heaven.
If only such a man might be called my husband,
dwelling here, and it might please him to remain here.
But give, handmaids, to the stranger food and drink.
So she spoke, and they heard and obeyed her well,
and set beside Odysseus food and drink.
And much-enduring noble Odysseus drank and ate
greedily; for long had he been without food.
But white-armed Nausicaa thought of other things:
she folded the clothing and laid it on the beautiful wagon,
and yoked the strong-hoofed mules, and climbed up herself,
and roused Odysseus, and spoke a word and addressed him:
Rise now, stranger, and go to the city, so that I may send you
to the house of my father, the wise-hearted, where I say you
will know all the Phaeacians, as many as are the best.
But do just as I say, and you seem to me not to lack sense.
As long as we go through the fields and the works of men,
for so long with the handmaids, behind the mules and the wagon,
walk quickly; and I will lead the way.
But when we come upon the city, around which is a wall
high, and a beautiful harbor on either side of the city,
and a narrow entrance; and the curved ships
are drawn up along the road; for each has its own mooring place.
And there is their assembly around a beautiful place of Poseidon,
fitted with drawn stone buried in the ground.
And there they busy themselves with the gear of the black ships,
cables and ropes, and they sharpen their oars.
For the Phaeacians care not for bow nor quiver,
but for masts and oars of ships and the trim ships,
in which, exulting, they cross the grey sea.
I shun their ungentle talk, lest someone afterward
find fault with me; for they are very arrogant in the district.
And some worse man might meet me and say this:
Who is this that follows Nausicaa, handsome and tall,
a stranger? Where did she find him? He shall be her husband.
Either she took in some wanderer from his ship,
from men far away, since none are near;
or some god came, greatly prayed for, to her as she prayed,
coming down from heaven, and he shall have her all her days.
Better that she herself had gone and found a husband
from elsewhere; for surely she dishonors these
Phaeacians, who woo her, many and noble.
So they will say, and these would be reproaches to me.
And I myself blame any other woman, whoever does such things,
who, against the will of her dear father and mother living,
mixes with men, before a public marriage comes.
Stranger, you then understand my word quickly, so that most quickly
you may win escort and return from my father.
You will find a glorious grove of Athena near the road,
of poplars; and a spring flows in it, and around it a meadow;
and there is my father's precinct and a flourishing orchard,
as far from the town as a man can shout.
Sit there and wait for a time, until we
come to the town and reach my father's house.
But when you suppose we have come to the house,
then go to the city of the Phaeacians and ask
for the house of my father, great-hearted Alcinous.
It is easy to recognize, and even a foolish child could lead you
to it; for not at all like the other
Phaeacian houses is the house of Alcinous
the hero made. But when the house and the courtyard cover you,
go very quickly through the hall, until you come
to my mother; and she sits at the hearth in the light of the fire,
spinning sea-purple wool, a wonder to look on,
leaning against a pillar; and her maids sit behind her.
And there my father's throne is set close to hers,
on which he sits and drinks wine, like an immortal.
Passing by him, throw your hands about my mother's knees,
so that you may see your day of return,
rejoicing and swiftly, even if you are very far away.
If she holds kind thoughts for you in her heart,
then there is hope for you to see your friends and come
to your well-built house and your own native land.
So saying, she lashed the mules with the shining whip;
and they quickly left the streams of the river.
They trotted well, and turned their feet well;
and she drove very skillfully, so that on foot might follow
the handmaids and Odysseus, and with her mind she applied the whip.
And the sun set, and they came to the glorious grove
sacred to Athena, where noble Odysseus sat down.
Straightway then he prayed to the daughter of great Zeus:
Hear me, child of aegis-bearing Zeus, Unwearied One;
now indeed hear me, since never before did you hear me
when I was being dashed, when the glorious Earth-shaker dashed me.
Grant that I come to the Phaeacians as one dear and pitied.
So he spoke praying, and Pallas Athena heard him.
But she did not yet appear to him face to face; for she feared
her father's brother; and he raged fiercely
against godlike Odysseus before he reached his own land.

### Book 7

So he prayed there, the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus,
and the strength of the mules carried the girl toward the city.
And she, when she came to her father's glorious house,
halted in the doorway, and her brothers stood about her
like the deathless gods, and they loosed the mules from under the wagon
and carried the clothing inside.
She herself went to her chamber; and an old woman kindled fire for her,
an Apeiran crone, her chamberlain Eurymedusa,
whom ships once brought from Apeira;
and they chose her out as a prize of honor for Alcinous, since over all
the Phaeacians he ruled, and the people heard him as a god;
she had raised white-armed Nausicaa in the halls.
She kindled her fire and made ready the supper within.
And then Odysseus rose to go into the city; and Athena
poured a thick mist about him, with kindly thought for Odysseus,
lest any of the great-hearted Phaeacians meeting him
should mock him with words and ask who he was.
But when he was about to enter the lovely city,
there the goddess met him, bright-eyed Athena,
like a young maiden bearing a pitcher.
She stood before him, and brilliant Odysseus questioned her:
"My child, would you guide me to the house of the man
Alcinous, who rules among these people?
For I too have come here, a stranger much-tried,
from a far land; and so I know no man
of those who hold this city and this land."
Then the goddess answered him, bright-eyed Athena:
"Then, stranger and father, the house you bid me show,
I will show you, since it stands near my blameless father's.
But come, walk so in silence, and I will lead the way,
and do not look at any man nor question him.
For these men do not well endure strangers,
nor do they welcome and love whoever comes from elsewhere.
Trusting in their swift ships,
they cross the great gulf, since the Earth-shaker gave it them;
their ships are swift as a wing or a thought."
So speaking, Pallas Athena led the way
swiftly; and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.
And the ship-famed Phaeacians did not mark him
coming through the city among them; for Athena
of the fair braids, the dread goddess, did not suffer it — she poured
a wondrous mist over him, with kindly thought in her heart.
And Odysseus marveled at the harbors and the trim ships,
and the assembly places of the heroes themselves, and the long walls
towering, fitted with stakes, a wonder to behold.
But when they came to the king's glorious house,
the goddess began the speech to him, bright-eyed Athena:
"Here, stranger and father, is the house you asked me
to show you; and you will find the Zeus-nourished kings
feasting at the feast. Go in, and in your heart
fear nothing; for a bold man proves better in all
deeds, even if he comes from another land.
First you will find the mistress in the halls;
Arete is her name, and it is a true name, and from the same parents
she comes who bore Alcinous the king.
Nausithous first did Poseidon the Earth-shaker
beget, with Periboea, the best in beauty of women,
the youngest daughter of great-hearted Eurymedon,
who once was king over the overweening Giants.
But he destroyed his reckless people, and himself perished;
and with her Poseidon lay and begot a son,
great-hearted Nausithous, who ruled among the Phaeacians;
and Nausithous begot Rhexenor and Alcinous.
Rhexenor, being childless, the silver-bowed Apollo struck
as a bridegroom in his hall, leaving one only child,
Arete; and Alcinous made her his wife,
and honored her as no other woman on earth is honored,
all the women who now keep house beneath their husbands.
So is she honored, and is honored in heart above all
by her dear children and by Alcinous himself
and by the people, who look on her as a god
and greet her with words when she walks through the city.
For she herself lacks nothing of good understanding;
with her good mind she dissolves quarrels even among men.
If she is kindly minded toward you in her heart,
then there is hope that you will see your loved ones and reach
your high-roofed house and your own native land."
So speaking, bright-eyed Athena departed
over the barren sea, and left lovely Scheria,
and came to Marathon and wide-streeted Athens,
and entered the close-built house of Erechtheus. But Odysseus
went toward the famous house of Alcinous; and his heart
pondered many things as he stood, before he reached the bronze threshold.
For as the gleam of the sun was it, or of the moon,
through the high-roofed house of great-hearted Alcinous.
For bronze walls were fitted to it here and there,
from the threshold to the inner room, and about it ran a cornice of blue;
and golden doors closed the close-built house within;
and silver doorposts stood on the bronze threshold,
and a silver lintel above, and a golden handle.
And on either side were dogs of gold and silver,
which Hephaestus wrought with his cunning mind
to guard the house of great-hearted Alcinous,
deathless and ageless all their days.
And within, seats were set along the wall here and there,
from the threshold through to the inner room, and on them robes,
fine and well-woven, were laid, the work of women.
There the leaders of the Phaeacians sat
drinking and eating; for they had always plenty.
And golden youths on well-built pedestals
stood holding in their hands blazing torches,
lighting the night through the hall for the feasters.
And fifty slave women in the house —
some grind the apple-hued grain at the mills,
and others weave at the looms and twirl the spindles,
seated, like the leaves of a tall poplar;
and from the close-woven linen cloth drips liquid oil.
As the Phaeacians are skilled above all men
in driving a swift ship on the sea, so the women
are skilled at the loom; for Athena gave them beyond others
to know lovely works and good minds.
And outside the courtyard, near the doors, is a great orchard
of four acres; and a hedge runs round it on both sides.
There tall trees grow luxuriant,
pear trees and pomegranates and apple trees with shining fruit,
and sweet figs and flourishing olives.
Their fruit never perishes nor fails
in winter or in summer, but lasts the year; and ever
the West Wind blowing brings some to bud and ripens others.
Pear upon pear grows old, apple upon apple,
and cluster upon cluster of grapes, and fig upon fig.
And there a richly fruiting vineyard is rooted,
one part of it a sun-parched drying-floor in a smooth place
is drying in the sun, and others they are gathering,
and others they tread; and in front are unripe grapes
shedding their blossom, and others are darkening.
And there are ordered garden beds along the farthest row,
of every kind, shining the year through;
and in it are two springs; one spreads through all the garden,
and the other gushes from the other side, beneath the courtyard's threshold,
toward the high house, whence the townsmen drew water.
Such, then, in Alcinous' house were the shining gifts of the gods.
There the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus stood and gazed.
But when he had gazed at all in his heart,
he stepped swiftly over the threshold into the house,
and found the leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians
pouring libations from cups to the keen-sighted Argeiphontes,
to whom they poured last, whenever they thought of bed.
And the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus went through the hall
holding the thick mist that Athena had poured about him,
until he came to Arete and King Alcinous.
And about Arete's knees Odysseus cast his arms,
and then the wondrous mist poured away from him again.
And they fell silent, seeing the man through the hall;
they marveled as they looked. And Odysseus made his prayer:
"Arete, daughter of godlike Rhexenor,
to your husband and your knees I come, after much toil,
and to these feasters; may the gods grant them to live
in blessing, and may each leave to his children
his possessions in the halls and the honor the people gave him;
but for me, speed my convoy to reach my homeland
swiftly, since I have long suffered sorrows far from my loved ones."
So speaking, he sat down on the hearth in the ashes
beside the fire; and all of them fell hushed in silence.
And at last the old hero Echeneus spoke among them,
who was the eldest of the Phaeacian men
and excelled in speech, knowing many ancient things;
he, with kindly thought, addressed them and said:
"Alcinous, this is not the better way, nor is it fitting,
that the stranger sit on the ground at the hearth in the ashes,
while these men hold back, awaiting your word.
Come, raise the stranger and seat him on a silver-studded chair,
and command the heralds
to mix the wine, so that we may pour a libation to Zeus who delights in thunder,
who attends reverent suppliants;
and let the housekeeper give the stranger supper from what is in the house."
But when the sacred strength of Alcinous heard this,
he took Odysseus by the hand, the clever-minded, full of devices,
raised him from the hearth and seated him on a shining chair,
rousing his son, the blameless Laodamas,
who sat beside him, and he loved him most.
And a handmaid came and poured water for washing from a pitcher
over a silver basin, from a fair golden jug,
to wash himself; and beside him she drew up a polished table.
And the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,
laying on many dishes, giving freely of what was there.
And the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus drank and ate.
And then the strength of Alcinous spoke to a herald:
"Pontonous, mix the bowl and pour the wine
to all throughout the hall, so that we may pour a libation to Zeus who delights in thunder,
who attends reverent suppliants."
So he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine,
and made the first offering, and served it to all in cups.
But when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,
Alcinous addressed them and said:
"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,
that I may say what my heart in my breast commands me.
Now, having feasted, go home and lie down;
and at dawn, summoning the elders, more of them,
we will entertain the stranger in the halls and offer
fair sacred things to the gods, and then we will take thought
for his convoy, so that the stranger, without toil or grief,
by our convoy may reach his native land
rejoicing and swiftly, even if it lies very far away,
and suffer no evil or harm on the way,
before he sets foot on his own land; and there thereafter
he shall suffer whatever fate and the heavy Spinners
spun for him with their thread when his mother bore him.
But if one of the immortals has come down from heaven,
then the gods are planning something else in this.
For always before now the gods have shown themselves plainly
to us, whenever we make glorious hecatombs,
and they feast beside us, sitting where we sit.
And if some solitary traveler meets them, going alone,
they do not hide themselves at all, since we are near of kin to them,
even as the Cyclopes are, and the wild tribes of Giants.
Answering him, the crafty Odysseus said:
"Alcinous, let some other thing trouble your mind; for I at least
am not like the deathless gods who hold the wide heaven,
not in body nor in stature, but like mortal men.
Whatever men you know to bear the most misery,
to them in their griefs I could compare myself.
And I could tell of even more evils still,
all that I have suffered by the will of the gods.
But let me eat, grieved though I am;
for nothing is more shameless than the hateful belly,
which forces a man to remember it by necessity,
though he be utterly worn out and have grief in his heart,
as I too have grief in my heart, and it ever
bids me eat and drink, and makes me forget all
that I have suffered, and commands me to be filled.
But do you bestir yourselves at the appearing of dawn,
so that you may set wretched me on my native land,
though I have suffered much; and let my life leave me when I have seen
my possessions, my slaves, and my great high-roofed house."
So he spoke, and all of them praised him and urged
that the stranger be escorted, since he had spoken fitly.
But when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,
they went each to his own house to lie down;
and the brilliant Odysseus was left in the hall,
and beside him Arete and godlike Alcinous
sat; and the handmaids cleared away the gear of the feast.
And white-armed Arete began the speech among them;
for she knew the cloak and tunic, seeing the clothing
fair, which she herself had made with her women handmaids;
and she spoke, and winged words flew from her:
"Stranger, I myself will first ask you this:
who among men are you, and from where? Who gave you these clothes?
Do you not say you came here wandering over the sea?"
Answering her, the crafty Odysseus said:
"Hard it is, O queen, to tell in order
my sorrows, since the gods of heaven gave me many;
but this I will tell you, which you ask me and inquire.
There is an island, Ogygia, lying far out in the sea;
there the daughter of Atlas, the guileful Calypso,
of the fair braids, a dread goddess, dwells; and no one
consorts with her, neither of gods nor of mortal men.
But a god led wretched me to her hearth,
alone, since Zeus smote my swift ship with a bright lightning bolt
and shattered it in the midst of the wine-dark sea.
There all my noble companions perished,
but I, taking the keel of the curved ship in my arms,
was borne along nine days; and on the tenth dark night
the gods brought me to the island Ogygia, where Calypso
of the fair braids, a dread goddess, dwells, who took me in
and kindly loved and fed me, and said she would make me
deathless and ageless all my days;
but she never persuaded the heart in my breast.
There I stayed seven years, steadfast, and ever
wet with tears the immortal clothes Calypso gave me;
but when the eighth year came round upon me,
then she urged me and commanded me to set out,
at the message of Zeus, or her own mind turned.
She sent me off on a well-bound raft, and gave me much,
food and sweet wine, and clothed me in deathless garments,
and sent a wind, harmless and gentle.
Seventeen days I sailed, traversing the sea,
and on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains appeared
of your land, and my dear heart rejoiced,
wretched as I was; for I was still to meet with misery,
much of it, which Poseidon the Earth-shaker stirred up against me,
who, hurling winds upon me, bound up my course,
and roused the unspeakable sea, and no wave
suffered me to be borne on the raft, groaning thickly.
Then a storm scattered the raft; but I
swam and cut through this gulf, until wind and water
carrying me brought me near your land.
And there the wave would have overpowered me as I came out on shore,
hurling me against great rocks and a joyless place;
but I gave back and swam again, until I came
to a river, where the place seemed best to me,
smooth of rocks, and there was shelter from the wind.
I fell out, gathering my spirit, and immortal night came on.
And I, apart from the heaven-fed river,
stepped out and lay down in the bushes, and heaped leaves
over me; and a god poured endless sleep upon me.
There among the leaves, grieved at heart,
I slept all night, and on into dawn and the middle of the day.
The sun set, and sweet sleep released me.
And I marked your daughter's handmaids on the shore,
playing, and she herself was among them, like the goddesses;
I supplicated her; and she did not miss the good thought,
such as you would not expect a younger one, meeting a man,
to have; for the young are always reckless.
She gave me food in plenty and gleaming wine,
and bathed me in the river and gave me these clothes.
This I have told you truthfully, grieved though I am."
Then Alcinous answered him and said:
"Stranger, my daughter truly did not think of what was fitting
in this, that she did not bring you with her women handmaids
into our house, since you first supplicated her."
Answering him, the crafty Odysseus said:
"Hero, do not blame the blameless girl for that;
she did bid me follow with her handmaids,
but I did not wish it, from fear and from shame,
lest your own heart be angered at the sight;
for the tribes of men on earth are quick to resentment."
Then Alcinous answered him and said:
"Stranger, the dear heart in my breast is not such
as to be angry for nothing; better is all that is fitting.
O father Zeus and Athena and Apollo,
if only you were such as you are, and thought as I do,
to have my daughter and be called my son-in-law,
remaining here; I would give you a house and possessions,
if you were willing to stay; but no one will hold you back unwilling,
not of the Phaeacians; may that never be dear to father Zeus.
And I will mark out this convoy for you, so that you may know well,
for tomorrow; then you, overcome by sleep,
shall lie down, and they shall row over the calm, until you come
to your homeland and house, and wherever is dear to you,
even if it lies much farther off than Euboea,
which they say is the farthest away, those of our people
who saw it, when they brought golden-haired Rhadamanthys
to look upon Tityus, the son of Earth.
And they went there and accomplished it without toil
on that same day, and came home again.
And you yourself will know in your mind how the best
my ships are, and my young men at tossing the salt sea with the oar."
So he spoke, and the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus rejoiced,
and praying aloud he spoke, and named the word:
"Father Zeus, may he bring all that he has said to fulfillment —
Alcinous! Then his fame over the grain-giving earth
would be unquenchable, and I would reach my homeland."
So these two spoke such things to one another;
and white-armed Arete commanded the handmaids
to set a bed beneath the portico and throw on fair blankets
of purple, and spread rugs over them,
and put on woolen cloaks to cover him over.
And they went from the hall, torches in their hands.
But when they had hastened and made the close-spread bed,
they stood beside Odysseus and urged him with words:
"Rise and come to bed, stranger; your bed is made."
So they spoke, and to him it seemed welcome to lie down.
So there the much-enduring brilliant Odysseus slept
on the pierced bed beneath the echoing portico;
and Alcinous lay in the inmost chamber of the high house,
and beside him his wife, the queen, made ready the bed and bedding.

### Book 8

When early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then from his bed rose the sacred strength of Alcinous,
and up rose god-born Odysseus, sacker of cities.
And the sacred strength of Alcinous led them
to the Phaeacian assembly place, which had been built beside their ships.
And coming there they sat down on the polished stones
close together. But Pallas Athena went through the town,
likened to the herald of warlike Alcinous,
contriving a homecoming for great-hearted Odysseus,
and standing beside each man she spoke her word:
"Come now, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,
go to the assembly, so that you may learn of the stranger,
who lately came to the house of warlike Alcinous,
wandering over the sea, in body like the deathless gods."
So speaking she stirred the strength and spirit of each man.
Swiftly the assemblies and the seats were filled with mortals
gathering; and many marveled, seeing him,
the warlike son of Laertes; and on him Athena
poured wondrous grace over his head and shoulders,
and made him seem taller and broader to look upon,
so that he might be dear to all the Phaeacians
and dread and revered, and might accomplish the contests,
the many which the Phaeacians made trial of Odysseus in.
But when they had gathered and come together,
among them Alcinous spoke and addressed them:
"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,
so that I may say what my heart in my chest urges me.
This stranger, I know not who he is, came wandering to my house,
either from men of the east or of the west;
and he urges his conveyance, and begs that it be sure.
And let us, as before, urge on the conveyance.
For no one else, whoever comes to my house,
stays here mourning for long because of a conveyance.
But come, let us drag a black ship into the shining sea,
one that has never sailed; and let two and fifty young men
be chosen from the district, whoever are the best before now.
And when all have bound the oars well to the rowlocks,
let them go aboard; and then prepare a swift feast,
coming to my house; and I will provide well for all.
These things I command the young men; but the others,
the sceptered kings, to my beautiful house
come, so that we may welcome the stranger in the halls,
and let no one refuse. And call the divine singer
Demodocus; for to him above all the god gave song
to delight, wherever his heart urges him to sing."
So having spoken he led the way, and they followed along,
the sceptered ones; and the herald went after the divine singer.
And the young men chosen, two and fifty,
went, as he commanded, to the shore of the unharvested sea.
But when they had come down to the ship and the sea,
they dragged the black ship into the sea's depth,
and set the mast and the sails in the black ship,
and fitted the oars in the leather rowlocks,
all in due order, and spread out the white sails.
And they moored her high in the surf; then afterwards
they went to the great house of warlike Alcinous.
And the porticos and the courts and the men's rooms were filled
with those gathering; and many there were, young and old.
And to them Alcinous sacrificed twelve sheep,
and eight white-tusked boars, and two shambling oxen;
they flayed them and cared for them, and made a lovely feast.
And the herald came near leading the trusty singer,
whom the Muse loved above others, and gave him good and evil:
she took away his eyes, and gave him sweet song.
And for him Pontonous set a silver-studded chair
in the midst of the feasters, leaning it against a tall pillar;
and he hung the clear lyre from a peg
above his head, and showed him how to take it with his hands,
the herald; and he set beside him a basket and a beautiful table,
and beside him a cup of wine, to drink whenever his heart bade.
And they put their hands to the ready food set before them.
But when they had put away desire for drink and food,
the Muse then stirred the singer to sing of the glorious deeds of men,
of a song whose fame at that time reached the wide heaven,
the quarrel of Odysseus and Peleus' son Achilles,
how once they quarreled at a bountiful feast of the gods
with dreadful words, and the lord of men Agamemnon
rejoiced in his heart, that the best of the Achaeans were quarreling.
For so had Phoebus Apollo prophesied to him
in holy Pytho, when he crossed the stone threshold
to consult the oracle; for then the beginning of trouble rolled on
for Trojans and Danaans through the will of great Zeus.
These things the famous singer sang; but Odysseus
taking his great purple cloak in his sturdy hands
pulled it down from his head and covered his beautiful face;
for he was ashamed to let the Phaeacians see tears beneath his brows.
Indeed whenever the divine singer stopped singing,
he wiped the tear from his head and took away the cloak
and taking the two-handled cup poured libations to the gods;
but whenever he began again and the best of the Phaeacians
urged him to sing, since they were delighted with his words,
again Odysseus, covering his head, would groan aloud.
There he escaped the notice of all the others, shedding tears,
but Alcinous alone marked him and noticed him,
sitting near him, and heard him groaning heavily.
And straightaway he spoke to the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar:
"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians.
Already we have satisfied our hearts with the equal feast
and with the lyre, which is companion to a bountiful feast;
but now let us go out and make trial of all
the contests, so that the stranger may tell his own friends
when he has returned home, how much we surpass others
in boxing and wrestling and in jumping and in running."
So having spoken he led the way, and they followed along.
And he hung the clear lyre from a peg,
and took Demodocus by the hand and led him from the hall,
the herald; and he led him the very same way as the others,
the best of the Phaeacians, to marvel at the contests.
They went to the assembly place, and with them followed a great crowd,
countless; and many young men stood up, both many and noble.
Up rose Acroneos and Ocyalus and Elatreus,
Nauteus and Prymneus and Anchialus and Eretmeus,
Ponteus and Proreus, Thoon and Anabesineos,
and Amphialus, son of Polyneus, son of Tecton;
and up rose too Euryalus, like to man-destroying Ares,
son of Naubolus, who was best in form and build
of all the Phaeacians after the blameless Laodamas.
And up stood the three sons of blameless Alcinous,
Laodamas and Halius and godlike Clytoneus.
And they first made trial of their feet.
For them a course was stretched from the starting line; and all together
they flew swiftly, raising dust on the plain;
and by far the best of them at running was blameless Clytoneus;
and as far as the mules' furrow-distance is in a fallow field,
so far he came out ahead of the crowd, and they were left behind.
And they made trial of painful wrestling;
and here again Euryalus beat all the best.
And in the jump Amphialus was most outstanding of all;
and in the discus again Elatreus was far the best of all,
and in boxing again Laodamas, the good son of Alcinous.
But when all had delighted their hearts with the contests,
then the son of Alcinous, Laodamas, spoke among them:
"Come, friends, let us ask the stranger whether he knows
and has learned any contest. In build at least he is not bad,
in thighs and calves and both arms above
and in his sturdy neck and great strength; nor in his youth
is he lacking, but he is broken down by many troubles;
for I say there is nothing worse than the sea
to overwhelm a man, even if he be very strong."
And again Euryalus answered him and said:
"Laodamas, this word you have spoken is very much in order.
Go yourself now and challenge him and make known your speech."
But when the good son of Alcinous heard this,
he went and stood in the middle and spoke to Odysseus:
"Come here, you too, stranger and father, make trial of the contests,
if you have learned any; it seems you know contests;
for there is no greater glory for a man as long as he lives
than what he achieves with his feet and his hands.
But come, make trial, and scatter the cares from your heart.
And your voyage will no longer be far off, but already
your ship is drawn down and your companions are ready."
And in answer to him spoke much-devising Odysseus:
"Laodamas, why do you bid me do these things, mocking me?
Cares are upon my mind rather than contests,
I who before have suffered very many things and toiled greatly,
and now in your assembly, longing for my homecoming,
I sit, begging both the king and all the people."
And again Euryalus answered him and rebuked him to his face:
"No, stranger, I do not liken you to a man knowing
contests, such as many are among men,
but rather to one who, haunting a many-oared ship,
a leader of sailors, who are traders,
is mindful of cargo and a watcher of ways
and of grasping gains; you do not look like an athlete."
And looking at him from under his brows, much-devising Odysseus said:
"Stranger, you have not spoken well; you are like a reckless man.
So the gods do not give graceful gifts to all
men, neither build nor mind nor eloquence.
For one man is weaker in form,
but the god crowns his words with beauty, and others
delighting in him look at him; and he speaks steadfastly
with gentle modesty, and he stands out among those gathered,
and as he walks through the city they look on him as a god.
And another again is like the deathless gods in form,
but no grace encircles his words,
as in you the form is conspicuous, and not otherwise
could even a god make it, but your mind is worthless.
You have stirred my heart in my dear chest
by speaking out of order. But I am not ignorant of contests,
as you say, but I think I am among the first
while I trusted in my youth and my hands.
But now I am held by misery and pains; for I have endured many things
passing through wars of men and painful waves.
But even so, having suffered many evils, I will make trial of the contests;
for your word bites the heart, and you stirred me by speaking."
He spoke, and sprang up and took with his own cloak a discus
greater and thicker, heavier by no little
than the one the Phaeacians used to throw among themselves.
And whirling it around he sent it from his sturdy hand,
and the stone boomed; and down to the ground crouched
the long-oared Phaeacians, men famous for ships,
at the stone's cast; and it flew beyond the marks of all,
swiftly going from his hand. And Athena set the boundaries,
likened in body to a man, and spoke a word and called him by name:
"Even a blind man, stranger, would distinguish the mark
by feeling it, since it is not mixed with the crowd,
but far first. And be of good courage for this contest;
no one of the Phaeacians will reach this, nor surpass it."
So she spoke, and much-enduring brilliant Odysseus rejoiced,
glad that he saw a friendly comrade in the contest.
And then he spoke more lightly to the Phaeacians:
"Now reach this mark, young men. Presently afterward another
I think I will send, either as far as this or even farther.
And of the others, whomever his heart and spirit bids,
come here and make trial, since you angered me greatly,
either in boxing or wrestling or even in running, I do not grudge it,
of all the Phaeacians, except Laodamas himself.
For this man is my host; who would fight with one who loves him?
Truly that man is foolish and a worthless man,
whoever brings up strife over contests with a host
in a foreign land; he cripples all his own prospects.
But of the others I refuse and make light of none,
but I wish to know and to make trial against them.
For I am not bad in all things, among men, as many as are contests;
well do I know how to handle a well-polished bow;
first I would strike a man with an arrow in a crowd
of hostile men, even if very many companions
should stand near and shoot arrows at men.
Only Philoctetes surpassed me with the bow
in the land of the Trojans, when we Achaeans shot with bows.
And of the others I say I am far better,
as many mortals as now are on the earth eating grain.
But with earlier men I will not wish to contend,
neither with Heracles nor with Eurytus of Oechalia,
who indeed used to vie with the deathless gods about bows.
Therefore great Eurytus quickly died, nor to old age
did he come in his halls; for Apollo in anger
killed him, because he challenged him to shoot with the bow.
And with the spear I throw as far as no one else with an arrow.
And in running I fear lest one of the Phaeacians
run past me; for I have been terribly worn down
in many waves, since there was no abundant
provision in the ship; therefore my dear limbs are loosened."
So he spoke, and they all fell silent in silence.
And Alcinous alone answered him and said:
"Stranger, since you do not speak without grace among us,
but wish to reveal your excellence, which attends you,
being angry because this man stood beside you in the contest
and rebuked you, as no mortal would disparage your excellence,
whoever knew in his mind how to speak rightly;
but come now, understand my word, so that you may also tell
another of the heroes, when in your halls
you feast beside your wife and your children,
remembering our excellence, what things to us too
Zeus lays upon our works continually from our fathers' time.
For we are not blameless boxers nor wrestlers,
but we run swiftly with our feet and are best with ships,
and always dear to us are the feast and the cithara and dances
and changes of clothing and warm baths and beds.
But come, all you Phaeacians who are the best dancers,
play, so that the stranger may tell his own friends
when he has returned home how much we surpass others
in seamanship and in running and in dancing and in song.
And let someone go quickly and bring Demodocus the clear lyre,
which lies somewhere in our house."
So spoke godlike Alcinous, and the herald rose
to bring the hollow lyre from the king's house.
And nine chosen stewards all stood up,
public officials, who arranged everything well at the contests,
and they smoothed the dancing floor, and widened the good place of assembly.
And the herald came near bringing the clear lyre
to Demodocus; and he then went to the middle; and about him young men
in first youth stood, skilled in dancing,
and they struck the divine dancing floor with their feet. But Odysseus
gazed at the flashing of their feet, and marveled in his heart.
And the singer, playing the lyre, began to sing beautifully
of the love of Ares and of fair-crowned Aphrodite,
how at first they mingled in Hephaestus' house
in secret, and he gave many gifts, and shamed the bed and the couch
of lord Hephaestus. And straightaway a messenger came to him,
Helios, who perceived them mingling in love.
And Hephaestus, when he heard the heart-grieving word,
went to his bronze forge, brooding evils in his heart,
and set a great anvil on the anvil block, and forged bonds
unbreakable, unloosable, so that they might stay fixed there.
But when he had made the snare, angry at Ares,
he went to the chamber, where his dear bed stood,
and around the bedposts he poured bonds in a circle everywhere;
and many too were spread from above, from the roof beam,
like thin spider webs, which no one could even see,
not even the blessed gods; for it was made cunningly all around.
But when he had poured all the snare around the bed,
he pretended to go to Lemnos, the well-built citadel,
which of all lands is far dearest to him.
Nor did golden-reined Ares keep a blind watch,
when he saw famous-craftsman Hephaestus gone away;
he went toward the house of renowned Hephaestus
eager for the love of fair-crowned Cytherea.
And she had just come from her father, the mighty son of Cronus,
and sat down; and he went inside the house,
and clasped her hand, and spoke a word and called her by name:
"Come, dear one, let us turn to the bed and lie together;
for Hephaestus is no longer among his people, but somewhere already
he has gone to Lemnos to the wild-voiced Sintians."
So he spoke, and to her it seemed welcome to lie down.
And the two went to the bed and lay down; and around them bonds
artful, of the cunning Hephaestus, were poured,
nor could they move any limb or lift it.
And then indeed they knew that there was no more escape.
And near them came the renowned lame god,
turning back again before he reached the land of Lemnos;
for Helios kept watch for him and told him the word.
He went to his dear house, grieved at heart;
he stood in the doorway, and wild anger seized him;
he shouted terribly, and called out to all the gods:
"Father Zeus and other blessed gods who are forever,
come here, so that you may see works laughable and not to be endured,
how Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, because I am lame,
always dishonors me, and loves destructive Ares,
because he is handsome and sound of foot, but I
was born feeble. But no one else is to blame for me,
but my two parents, whom I wish had not begotten me.
But you will see, where the two sleep in love
having gone to my bed, and I am grieved looking on.
I do not expect them to lie so for even a little while
though they love each other greatly; soon the two will not wish
to sleep; but the snare and the bond will hold them,
until he pays me back all the bride-gifts,
as many as I gave him for the sake of the shameless girl,
because his daughter is beautiful, but she is not chaste."
So he spoke, and the gods gathered at the bronze-floored house;
came Poseidon the earth-holder, came the helpful
Hermes, and came the lord, the far-working Apollo.
But the female goddesses stayed at home, each from modesty.
And the gods stood in the doorway, givers of good things;
and unquenchable laughter arose among the blessed gods
as they looked at the crafts of the cunning Hephaestus.
And thus one would say, looking at another near him:
"Evil deeds do not prosper; the slow catches the swift,
as now Hephaestus, being slow, caught Ares,
though he is the swiftest of the gods who hold Olympus,
being lame, by his crafts; and so the adulterer pays the penalty."
So they spoke such things to one another;
and to Hermes spoke the lord, the son of Zeus, Apollo:
"Hermes, son of Zeus, guide, giver of good things,
would you then be willing, pressed in strong bonds,
to sleep in bed beside golden Aphrodite?"
And the guide, the slayer of Argus, answered him then:
"Would that this might happen, lord Apollo, far-shooter;
may three times as many bonds, endless, hold me around,
and may you gods and all the goddesses look on,
and may I sleep beside golden Aphrodite."
So he spoke, and laughter arose among the deathless gods.
But laughter did not hold Poseidon, and he kept begging
famous-craftsman Hephaestus to release Ares.
And speaking he addressed him with winged words:
"Release him; and I promise you myself, as you bid,
he will pay all that is fitting among the deathless gods."
And again the renowned lame god answered him:
"Do not, Poseidon the earth-holder, command these things of me;
for the pledges of the wretched are wretched pledges.
How could I bind you among the deathless gods,
if Ares should go off, escaping his debt and the bond?"
And again Poseidon the earth-shaker answered him:
"Hephaestus, if indeed Ares escapes his debt
and goes off in flight, I myself will pay you this."
And again the renowned lame god answered him:
"It is not possible nor fitting to deny your word."
So speaking he loosed the bond, the strength of Hephaestus.
And the two, when they were loosed from the bond, strong as it was,
straightaway sprang up, and he went off to Thrace,
and she reached Cyprus, laughter-loving Aphrodite,
to Paphos; where she has a precinct and a fragrant altar.
There the Graces bathed her and anointed her with oil
immortal, such as is upon the gods who are forever,
and put lovely clothing around her, a wonder to see.
These things the famous singer sang; but Odysseus
was delighted in his own heart as he listened, and so too the others,
the long-oared Phaeacians, men famous for ships.
And Alcinous bade Halius and Laodamas
dance alone, since no one contended with them.
And when they had taken in their hands the beautiful ball,
a purple one, which warlike Polybus had made for them,
one of them would throw it toward the shadowy clouds
leaning backward, and the other, springing up from the ground,
would easily catch it, before his feet reached the floor.
But when they had made trial of the ball in a straight line,
then they danced on the much-nourishing earth,
swiftly changing places; and the other young men cried out
standing around the place of assembly, and a great din arose.
Then brilliant Odysseus spoke to Alcinous:
"Lord Alcinous, most conspicuous of all peoples,
you declared that your dancers are the best,
and indeed it has been made ready; awe holds me as I look on."
So he spoke, and the sacred strength of Alcinous rejoiced,
and straightaway he spoke to the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar:
"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians.
This stranger seems to me to be very prudent.
But come, let us give him a guest-gift, as is fitting.
For twelve conspicuous kings throughout the district
rule as leaders, and I myself am the thirteenth;
of them let each bring him a well-washed cloak and tunic
and a talent of precious gold.
And let us quickly bring everything together, so that in his hands
the stranger may have them and go rejoicing in heart to dinner.
And let Euryalus make amends to him with words
and with a gift, since he did not speak a word in order."
So he spoke, and they all approved and ordered it,
and each sent a herald to bring the gifts.
And again Euryalus answered him and said:
"Lord Alcinous, most conspicuous of all peoples,
therefore I will make amends to the stranger, as you bid.
I will give him this all-bronze sword, on which the hilt
is silver, and the scabbard of newly cut ivory
is fitted around it; and it will be worth much to him."
So speaking he placed in his hands the silver-studded sword
and speaking addressed him with winged words:
"Hail, father stranger; and if any word has gone
amiss, may the storm winds snatch it away at once.
And to you may the gods grant to see your wife and reach your fatherland,
since you have long suffered hardships away from your loved ones."
And in answer to him spoke much-devising Odysseus:
"And you, friend, rejoice greatly, and may the gods give you prosperity.
And may you never afterward regret this sword,
which you have given me, making amends with words."
He spoke, and put the silver-studded sword over his shoulders.
And the sun set, and the glorious gifts were at hand.
And the noble heralds carried them to Alcinous' house;
and receiving them the sons of blameless Alcinous
placed the very beautiful gifts beside their revered mother.
And the sacred strength of Alcinous led them,
and when they had come they sat down on the high seats.
Then indeed the strength of Alcinous spoke to Arete:
"Come, wife, bring a conspicuous chest, the best there is;
and put in it yourself a well-washed cloak and tunic.
And warm a bronze vessel over the fire for him, and heat water,
so that when he has bathed and seen all the gifts
well laid out, which the blameless Phaeacians brought here,
he may delight in the feast and hear the hymn of song.
And I will give him this beautiful cup of mine,
golden, so that remembering me all his days
he may pour libations in his hall to Zeus and the other gods."
So he spoke, and Arete told the maidservants
to set a great tripod over the fire as quickly as possible.
And they set the bath-water tripod in the blazing fire,
and poured water in it, and taking wood kindled it underneath.
The fire encompassed the belly of the tripod, and the water heated;
meanwhile Arete brought out for the stranger the very beautiful chest
from the chamber, and placed in it the beautiful gifts,
clothing and gold, which the Phaeacians had given him;
and she herself put in it a cloak and a beautiful tunic,
and speaking addressed him with winged words:
"Now look to the lid yourself, and quickly put on the seal,
lest someone harm you on the way, whenever again
you sleep a sweet sleep going in the black ship."
But when much-enduring brilliant Odysseus heard this,
he straightaway fitted the lid, and quickly put on the cunning
seal, which lady Circe once taught him in her mind;
and at once the housekeeper bade him bathe,
entering the bath; and he gladly in his heart saw
the warm baths, since he had not often had such care,
since he left the house of fair-haired Calypso.
Meanwhile his care was as steady as a god's.
And when the maidservants had bathed him and anointed him with oil,
and thrown a beautiful cloak and tunic around him,
he came out of the bath and went to the wine-drinking men;
and Nausicaa, who had beauty from the gods,
stood beside the doorpost of the well-built roof,
and marveled as she looked on Odysseus with her eyes,
and speaking addressed him with winged words:
"Hail, stranger, so that sometime when you are in your fatherland
you may remember me, because you owe me first the price of your life."
And in answer to her spoke much-devising Odysseus:
"Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,
so may Zeus bring it about, the loud-thundering husband of Hera,
that you come home and see the day of your return;
then I would pray to you even there as to a god
always all my days; for you saved my life, maiden."
He spoke, and sat down on a seat beside King Alcinous;
and they were already serving portions and mixing wine.
And the herald came near leading the trusty singer,
Demodocus, honored by the people; and he seated him
in the midst of the feasters, leaning him against a tall pillar.
Then much-devising Odysseus spoke to the herald,
cutting off from the back, and more was left over,
of a white-tusked boar, and rich fat was around it:
"Herald, here, give this meat to Demodocus,
so that he may eat; and I will greet him though I am grieving;
for to all men upon the earth singers
have a share of honor and reverence, because the Muse
taught them songs, and she loved the tribe of singers."
So he spoke, and the herald brought it and placed it in his hands,
to the hero Demodocus; and he received it, and rejoiced in his heart.
And they put their hands to the ready food set before them.
But when they had put away desire for drink and food,
then much-devising Odysseus spoke to Demodocus:
"Demodocus, above all mortals I praise you exceedingly.
Either the Muse taught you, child of Zeus, or Apollo;
for very much in order you sing the fate of the Achaeans,
all that they did and suffered and all that the Achaeans toiled,
as if you had been there yourself or heard from another.
But come now, change and sing the fashioning of the horse
of wood, which Epeius made with Athena,
which brilliant Odysseus once brought to the citadel as a trick,
filling it with men who sacked Ilion.
If you will recount these things to me in order,
straightaway I will tell all men
that a god willingly granted you divine song."
So he spoke, and the singer, starting from the god, began and revealed his song,
taking it up from the point where they, on their well-benched ships,
went and sailed away, having set fire to their huts,
the Argives, and those others with glorious Odysseus
sat in the Trojans' assembly place, hidden in the horse;
for the Trojans themselves had dragged it to the citadel.
So it stood there, and they spoke many indecisive things,
sitting around it; and the counsel pleased them three ways,
either to cut the hollow wood with pitiless bronze,
or to drag it up and throw it from the rocks on the height,
or to let it be a great offering, a charm for the gods,
in which way indeed it was afterward going to be accomplished;
for it was fated that they perish, when the city enclosed
the great wooden horse, where all the best
of the Argives sat, bringing slaughter and death to the Trojans.
And he sang how the sons of the Achaeans sacked the city,
pouring out from the horse, leaving the hollow ambush.
And he sang how one man laid waste the steep city here, another there,
but Odysseus went to the house of Deiphobus
like Ares together with godlike Menelaus.
There indeed he said that, having dared the most terrible war,
he conquered, and then through great-hearted Athena.
These things the famous singer sang; but Odysseus
melted, and wet his cheeks with tears beneath his eyelids.
As when a woman weeps, falling upon her dear husband,
who has fallen before his city and his people,
defending his town and children from the pitiless day;
and she, seeing him dying and gasping,
falls upon him and wails shrilly; and others behind her
striking her back and shoulders with spears
lead her into slavery, to have toil and misery;
and her cheeks waste away with most pitiable grief;
so Odysseus shed a pitiable tear beneath his brows.
There he escaped the notice of all the others, shedding tears,
but Alcinous alone marked him and noticed him,
sitting near him, and heard him groaning heavily.
And straightaway he spoke to the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar:
"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,
and let Demodocus now hold his clear lyre;
for he does not sing these things pleasing to all alike.
From the time we began to dine and the divine singer rose,
from then the stranger has not yet ceased from woeful lamenting;
surely grief has greatly encompassed his mind.
But come, let him hold it, so that we may all alike be delighted,
both hosts and guest, since that is far better;
for it has been done for the sake of the revered stranger,
the conveyance and the dear gifts, which we give him in love.
For a stranger and a suppliant is like a brother
to a man, who touches his heart even a little.
Therefore now do not hide in cunning thoughts
whatever I may ask you; and it is better for you to speak.
Tell me the name that your mother and father called you there,
and the others who are in the city and those who dwell around it.
For no man at all is nameless among humans,
neither base nor noble, once he is first born,
but parents put a name on all, when they have children.
And tell me your land, your district and your city,
so that our ships may convey you there, aiming with their minds;
for the Phaeacians have no steersmen,
nor are there any rudders, which other ships have;
but the ships themselves know the thoughts and minds of men,
and they know all the cities and rich fields
of men, and they cross the gulf of the sea most swiftly
covered in mist and cloud; nor is there ever for them
any fear of being harmed or perishing.
But this, as I once heard my father saying,
Nausithous, who said that Poseidon was angry
with us, because we are blameless escorts for all.
He said that once a well-built ship of Phaeacian men,
returning from a convoy in the misty sea,
would be struck, and a great mountain would cover our city.
So the old man spoke; and the god might either accomplish
or leave unaccomplished these things, as was dear to his heart.
But come, tell me this and recount it accurately,
where you wandered and which lands
of men you came to, both themselves and their well-inhabited cities,
both those who are harsh and savage and not just,
and those who are hospitable, and whose mind is god-fearing.
And tell me why you weep and lament within your heart
hearing the fate of the Argive Danaans and of Ilion.
The gods made that, and spun destruction
for men, so that there might be song even for those to come.
Did some kinsman of yours also perish before Ilion,
being noble, a son-in-law or father-in-law, who are most
near and dear after one's own blood and family?
Or perhaps some companion, a man knowing gracious things,
noble? Since he is in no way worse than a brother,
whoever, being a companion, knows prudent things.

### Book 9

Then many-counselled Odysseus answered him and said:
"Alcinous, lord, most shining glory of all your people,
truly it is a lovely thing to listen to a singer
such as this man is, whose voice is like the gods'.
For I declare no more gracious end can ever be
than when gladness holds the whole assembled people,
and the feasters through the halls give ear unto the singer,
seated in order, while the tables stand all laden
with bread and meats, and drawing wine out of the mixing bowl
the cupbearer carries it round and pours into the cups.
This seems to me the fairest thing within my heart.
But your heart has been moved to ask about my sorrows,
my lamentable griefs, that I may grieve yet more and groan.
What then shall I tell you first, and what shall I tell you last?
For the gods, the dwellers in heaven, have given me many sorrows.
But now I will first tell my name, so that you also
may know it, and I hereafter, escaping the pitiless day,
may be your guest-friend, though I dwell in homes far off.
I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, who among all men
am known for every kind of cunning, and my fame reaches heaven.
I dwell in Ithaca, a land of clear light; and in it is a mountain,
Neriton, quivering with leaves, most conspicuous; and around it
many islands lie, exceedingly close to one another,
Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus.
But Ithaca itself lies low, farthest out in the sea,
toward the darkness, while the others lie apart toward the dawn and the sun,
a rugged land, yet a good nurse of men; nor can I
see any other land more sweet than my own land.
Truly Calypso, shining among goddesses, held me there
in her hollow caves, longing that I should be her husband;
and in like manner Circe the guileful detained me in her halls,
in Aeaea, longing that I should be her husband;
but they never persuaded the heart within my breast.
So nothing is sweeter than a man's own country and his parents,
not even if one dwells far off in a rich house
in an alien land, far away from his parents.
But come, I will tell you too of my sorrowful homecoming,
which Zeus laid upon me as I set out from Troy.
From Troy the wind bore me and brought me to the Cicones,
to Ismarus. There I sacked the city and destroyed the men;
and taking the wives and many possessions from the city
we divided them, so that no man should go short of his equal share.
There I urged my men to flee with nimble feet,
but they, great fools, would not obey me.
There much wine was drunk, and many sheep
they slaughtered on the shore, and oxen of rolling gait and crumpled horns.
Meanwhile the Cicones who had gone off called to the other Cicones,
who were their neighbours, more numerous and more valiant,
dwelling on the mainland, skilled to fight against men
from horses, and on foot where it was needful so to fight.
Then they came, as many as the leaves and flowers in springtime,
at dawn; and then the evil fate of Zeus stood by us,
for us ill-fated men, that we might suffer many griefs.
Forming their ranks they fought a battle beside the swift ships,
and they hurled at one another their bronze-tipped spears.
So long as morning was, and the sacred day grew,
so long we stood defending and held against their greater numbers.
But when the sun turned toward the time of unyoking oxen,
then the Cicones broke and routed the Achaeans.
And from each ship six well-greaved comrades
perished; and we others fled death and doom.
Thence we sailed onward, grieving at heart,
glad to have escaped death, but having lost our dear companions.
Nor did my curved ships move onward
before we had cried out three times to each of the wretched men
who died, slain on the plain beneath the Cicones.
But upon our ships Zeus the cloud-gatherer roused the North Wind
with a wondrous squall, and with clouds he covered
earth together with sea; and night rushed down from heaven.
Then the ships were borne headlong, and the sails
the force of the wind tore into three and into four pieces.
And these we lowered into the ships, fearing destruction,
and rowed the ships onward swiftly toward the mainland.
There for two nights and two days together, always,
we lay, eating our hearts out with toil and with grief.
But when the third day was brought to its end by fair-haired Dawn,
we set up the masts and hoisted the white sails
and sat us down, and the wind and the helmsmen steered the ships.
And now I would have come unharmed to my native land,
but the wave and the current, as I rounded Malea,
and the North Wind drove me back, and I was carried past Cythera.
Thence for nine days I was borne by destructive winds
over the fish-filled sea; but on the tenth we set foot
on the land of the Lotus-eaters, who eat a flowery food.
There we went ashore and drew water,
and quickly my comrades took their meal beside the swift ships.
But when we had eaten our food and our drink,
then I sent my comrades to go and learn
what men they were who ate bread upon that land,
choosing two men, and sending a herald as a third with them.
They went quickly and mingled with the Lotus-eating men;
nor did the Lotus-eaters devise destruction for my comrades,
but they gave them the lotus to taste.
And whoever of them ate the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus,
no longer wished to report back or to return home,
but they wished to stay there among the Lotus-eating men,
feeding on the lotus, and to forget their homecoming.
These I brought to the ships, weeping, by force,
and I dragged them into the hollow ships and bound them beneath the benches.
And the rest of my trusty comrades I ordered
to hurry and board the swift ships,
lest anyone eat the lotus and forget his homecoming.
They quickly boarded and sat at the rowing benches,
and sitting in order they struck the grey sea with their oars.
Thence we sailed onward, grieving at heart,
and we came to the land of the Cyclopes, the overbearing, lawless folk,
who, trusting in the immortal gods,
neither plant any plant with their hands nor plough the earth,
but all these things grow unsown and unploughed,
wheat and barley and vines, which bear
wine of noble clusters, and the rain of Zeus makes them grow.
They have no councils for counsel nor ordinances,
but they dwell on the peaks of high mountains
in hollow caves, and each one gives laws
to his children and his wife, and they care nothing for one another.
Then there is a low island lying just off the harbour,
neither near the land of the Cyclopes nor far from it,
wooded; and in it countless wild goats have been born;
for no path of men keeps them away,
nor do hunters enter it, who through the woodland
suffer hardships, following the peaks of the mountains.
Nor is it held by flocks nor ploughed by men,
but all its days it stands unsown and unploughed,
empty of men, and it feeds bleating goats.
For the Cyclopes have no ships with red-painted cheeks,
and there are no shipwrights among them, who might build
well-benched ships, which could accomplish everything
by reaching the towns of men, all the many places
where men cross the sea in ships to one another's lands,
men who might also have built them a well-settled island.
For it is not at all a bad land, but would bear all things in season;
for in it are meadows along the shores of the grey sea,
well-watered and soft; unfailing vines would grow there.
And in it is smooth ploughland; they would reap a deep harvest
always in season, for the soil beneath is very rich.
And in it is a good harbour, where there is no need of a cable,
nor to cast anchor stones nor to tie stern-ropes,
but to beach the ship and wait for the time until the sailors'
hearts urge them and the breezes blow.
And at the head of the harbour bright water flows,
a spring beneath a cave; and around it black poplars grow.
There we sailed in, and some god guided us
through the dark night, and we could not see by the light;
for a deep mist lay about the ships, nor did the moon
shine forth from heaven, and it was covered with clouds.
So no one saw that island with his eyes,
nor did we see the long waves rolling toward the shore,
before we had beached the well-benched ships.
And when the ships were beached, we lowered all the sails,
and we ourselves too went out upon the wave-beat shore;
there we fell asleep and waited for shining Dawn.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
wondering at the island, we wandered about it.
And the nymphs, daughters of Zeus the shield-bearer, roused
mountain goats, so that my comrades might have their dinner.
Straightway we took our curved bows and long-shafted javelins
from the ships, and divided into three groups we
threw; and a god soon gave us a satisfying hunt.
Twelve ships followed me, and to each ship
nine goats fell by lot; and for me alone they set apart ten.
So then for the whole day until the sun went down
we sat feasting on countless flesh and sweet wine;
for the red wine from the ships was not yet gone,
but remained; for much we had drawn in amphorae
from the Cicones, when we took the sacred citadel.
And we looked at the land of the Cyclopes, who were near,
and at their smoke and their voices, and those of their sheep and goats.
But when the sun had set and darkness came,
then we slept upon the wave-beat shore.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then I called an assembly and spoke among them all:
'You others now remain here, my trusty comrades;
but I with my own ship and with my own comrades
will go and try these men, and learn who they are,
whether they are violent and savage and not just,
or kind to strangers, and have a god-fearing mind.'
So speaking I went aboard the ship, and I ordered my comrades
to embark themselves and loose the stern-cables.
They quickly boarded and sat at the rowing benches,
and sitting in order they struck the grey sea with their oars.
But when we came to that place, it being near,
there at the edge we saw a cave hard by the sea,
high, roofed over with laurels. There many
flocks, sheep and goats, used to sleep; and around it a courtyard
high had been built of stones set in the ground
and of long pines and high-crowned oaks.
There a monstrous man used to sleep, who alone
pastured his flocks, far off; nor did he go about
among others, but dwelling apart he knew lawless things.
For he had been made a monstrous wonder, and did not resemble
a man who eats bread, but rather a wooded peak
of the high mountains, which appears alone apart from the others.
Then I ordered the rest of my trusty comrades
to stay there by the ship and to guard the ship,
but I chose twelve of my comrades, the best of them,
and went; and I had a goatskin of dark wine,
sweet, which Maron gave me, son of Euanthes,
priest of Apollo, who guarded Ismarus,
because we had sheltered him with his child and his wife
out of reverence; for he dwelt in a wooded grove
of Phoebus Apollo. And he gave me splendid gifts:
he gave me seven talents of well-wrought gold,
and he gave me a mixing bowl all of silver, and then
drawing off wine into twelve amphorae in all,
sweet, unmixed, a divine drink; nor did any
of his slaves or handmaids in the house know of it,
but he himself and his dear wife and one housekeeper alone.
And when they drank that honey-sweet red wine,
he would fill one cup with water, and twenty measures
he would pour in; and a sweet fragrance from the mixing bowl
rose up, wondrous; then it was not easy to hold back from it.
Of this I filled a great goatskin and carried it, and also
food in a basket; for at once my proud heart guessed
that a man would come upon us, clothed in great might,
savage, one who knew neither justice nor ordinances.
Swiftly we came to the cave, but we did not find him
within, but he was pasturing his flocks on the rich pasture.
Entering the cave, we looked at everything.
The baskets were heavy with cheeses, and the pens were crowded
with lambs and kids; and each kind was penned
apart, the older ones apart, the middle ones apart,
and the newborn apart. And all the vessels were full of whey,
crates and bowls, well-made, in which he milked.
Then at the first my comrades begged me with words
to take some of the cheeses and go back again, and then
quickly to drive the kids and lambs from the pens
to the swift ship and sail over the salt water;
but I would not obey, and truly it would have been far better,
in order that I might see him, and see whether he would give me guest-gifts.
But he was not to appear to my comrades as a welcome sight.
There we lit a fire and made sacrifice, and we ourselves
took some of the cheeses and ate, and we waited for him within,
sitting, until he came herding. And he carried a mighty burden
of dry wood, so that he might have it for his supper;
and throwing it down inside the cave he made a din.
And we, afraid, rushed away to the inner recess of the cave.
But he drove his fat flocks into the wide cave,
all those he milked; but he left the males outside the door,
the rams and the he-goats, outside the deep courtyard.
Then he lifted and set in place a great door-stone,
a mighty one; not even two-and-twenty
good four-wheeled wagons could have shifted it from the ground;
so huge a rock he set in the doorway.
Sitting down he milked the sheep and the bleating goats,
all in due order, and he put a suckling under each.
Straightway he curdled half the white milk
and gathered it into woven baskets and set it down,
and the other half he set in vessels, so that it might be there
for him to take and drink, and be there for his supper.
But when he had hurried and finished his work,
then he kindled a fire and saw us, and asked us:
'Strangers, who are you? From where do you sail the watery ways?
Is it for some business, or do you wander at random,
like pirates over the sea, who wander about
staking their lives, bringing harm to strangers?'
So he spoke, and our own dear hearts were broken within us,
as we feared his heavy voice and the huge man himself.
But even so I answered him and spoke in words:
'We are Achaeans, driven off course from Troy
by all sorts of winds over the great gulf of the sea,
hastening homeward, but by another road and other ways
we have come; so, I suppose, Zeus willed it to be devised.
And we claim to be the people of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,
whose fame is now the greatest under heaven;
for he sacked so great a city and destroyed many
peoples. And we, coming to your knees as suppliants,
have come, in case you might give us a guest-gift, or otherwise
grant us a gift, which is the custom for strangers.
But have respect, best of men, for the gods; we are your suppliants,
and Zeus is the avenger of suppliants and of strangers,
the protector of guests, who attends upon reverend strangers.'
So I spoke, and he answered me at once with a pitiless heart:
'You are a fool, stranger, or you have come from far away,
who bid me to fear the gods or to avoid them;
for the Cyclopes care nothing for Zeus the shield-bearer
nor for the blessed gods, since we are far stronger;
nor would I, to avoid the hatred of Zeus, spare
either you or your comrades, unless my heart bade me.
But tell me where you moored your well-made ship,
whether somewhere at the edge, or near, so that I may know.'
So he spoke, testing me, but I was not unaware, knowing many things,
but I answered him again with guileful words:
'Poseidon the earth-shaker has broken my ship
hurling it against the rocks at the borders of your land,
driving it onto a headland; and the wind bore it in from the sea;
but I with these men here escaped sheer destruction.'
So I spoke, but he answered me nothing with his pitiless heart,
but he sprang up and laid his hands upon my comrades,
and snatching two of them he dashed them on the ground like puppies,
and their brains ran down to the earth and wetted the ground.
Then cutting them limb from limb he made ready his supper;
and he ate like a mountain-bred lion, and left nothing behind,
neither entrails nor flesh nor bones with marrow.
And we, weeping, held up our hands to Zeus,
seeing these dreadful deeds, and helplessness held our hearts.
But when the Cyclops had filled his great belly
eating human flesh and drinking unmixed milk,
he lay down within the cave, stretched out among his flocks.
Then I planned in my great-hearted spirit
to go near him, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,
and strike him in the chest, where the midriff holds the liver,
feeling with my hand; but another thought held me back.
For there we too would have perished in sheer destruction;
for we could not have pushed back with our hands the high
door-stone, the mighty rock which he had set in place.
So then, groaning, we waited for shining Dawn.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then he kindled a fire and milked his famous flocks,
all in due order, and he put a suckling under each.
But when he had hurried and finished his work,
then he snatched two more of us and made ready his meal.
After eating, he drove his fat flocks out of the cave,
easily lifting away the great door-stone; and then
he set it back, as if he were putting a lid upon a quiver.
With loud whistling the Cyclops turned his fat flocks toward the mountain;
but I was left behind, brooding on evil in my heart,
whether I might somehow take revenge, if Athena would grant me glory.
And this plan seemed best to me in my heart.
For there lay the Cyclops' great club beside the pen,
green and of olive wood; he had cut it, so that he might carry it
when it had dried. We judged it, looking at it,
to be as large as the mast of a ship of twenty oars, black,
a broad merchant ship, which crosses the great gulf;
so long was it, so thick to look upon.
From it I stood and cut off about a fathom's length
and laid it beside my comrades, and told them to smooth it;
they made it even; and I stood and sharpened
the point, and taking it at once I hardened it in the blazing fire.
And I laid it carefully, hiding it under the dung,
which lay spread through the cave in great heaps;
and I ordered the others to cast lots by shaking,
whoever would dare with me to lift the stake
and grind it in his eye, whenever sweet sleep came upon him.
And the lot fell to those whom I myself would have chosen,
four of them, and I chose myself as fifth among them.
In the evening he came, herding his fair-fleeced flocks.
Straightway he drove his fat flocks into the wide cave,
all of them, and left nothing outside the deep courtyard,
either because he suspected something, or a god so bade him.
Then he lifted and set in place the great door-stone,
and sitting down he milked the sheep and the bleating goats,
all in due order, and he put a suckling under each.
But when he had hurried and finished his work,
then he snatched two more of us and made ready his supper.
And then I stood near the Cyclops and spoke to him,
holding in my hands a cup of dark wine:
'Cyclops, here, drink wine, since you have eaten human flesh,
so that you may know what kind of drink our ship
was carrying. And I brought it as a drink-offering for you, in case you would pity me
and send me home; but you are raging beyond all bearing.
Wretch, how could any other man hereafter come to you
among the many, since you have acted against what is right?'
So I spoke, and he took it and drank it; and he was wondrously pleased
drinking the sweet drink, and he asked me for a second:
'Give me more readily, and tell me your name
at once now, so that I may give you a guest-gift that you will enjoy;
for the grain-giving earth bears for the Cyclopes
wine of noble clusters, and the rain of Zeus makes it grow;
but this is a stream of ambrosia and of nectar.'
So he spoke, and I gave him the flaming wine again.
Three times I gave it, bearing it, and three times he drank in his folly.
But when the wine had come into the Cyclops' wits,
then I spoke to him with honeyed words:
'Cyclops, you ask me my famous name, and I
will tell you; but you must give me the guest-gift, as you promised.
Nobody is my name; and Nobody is what they call me,
my mother and my father and all my other comrades.'
So I spoke, and he answered me at once with a pitiless heart:
'Nobody I will eat last, after his comrades,
and the others first; that shall be your guest-gift.'
He spoke, and leaning back he fell on his back, and then
he lay with his thick neck twisted aside, and sleep
the all-subduer seized him; and from his throat poured out wine
and pieces of human flesh; and he belched, heavy with wine.
And then I thrust the stake under much ash,
until it should grow warm; and with words I encouraged
all my comrades, so that none might shrink back through fear.
But when the olive-wood stake was about to catch
in the fire, green though it was, and glowed terribly,
then I brought it near out of the fire, and around me my comrades
stood; and a god breathed great courage into us.
They took the olive-wood stake, sharp at the point,
and thrust it into his eye; and I, pressing down from above,
turned it, as when a man bores a ship's timber
with a drill, and others below keep it spinning with a strap
that they have fastened on both sides, and it runs on without ceasing.
So we took the fire-sharpened stake in his eye and turned it,
and the blood flowed all around it, hot as it was.
And the steam singed all his eyelids and his eyebrows,
as the eyeball burned, and its roots crackled in the fire.
As when a smith dips a great axe or an adze
in cold water, and it hisses loudly,
tempering it; for that is the strength of iron,
so his eye hissed around the olive-wood stake.
And he bellowed terribly, and the rock echoed around,
and we, afraid, rushed back; but he
drew the stake out of his eye, all smeared with much blood.
Then he threw it from him with his hands, frantic,
and he shouted loudly to the Cyclopes, who lived
around him in caves along the windy peaks.
They heard his shout and came running from all sides,
and standing around the cave they asked what troubled him:
'Why, Polyphemus, have you cried out so in your grief
through the immortal night, and made us sleepless?
Surely no mortal is driving your flocks away against your will?
Surely no one is killing you by guile or by force?'
And mighty Polyphemus answered them from the cave:
'My friends, Nobody is killing me by guile and not by force.'
And they answered him and spoke winged words:
'If then no one is doing you violence, you being alone,
then it is not possible to avoid the sickness of great Zeus;
but pray to lord Poseidon, your father.'
So they spoke and went away, and my own dear heart laughed,
how my name and my blameless cunning had deceived him.
And the Cyclops, groaning and gripped by pangs of pain,
groping with his hands took the stone from the doorway
and sat himself down in the doorway, stretching out his hands,
in case he might catch someone going out among the sheep;
for so he thought me to be a fool in his heart.
But I planned how it might be best of all,
if I could find for my comrades and for myself
some deliverance from death; and I wove all kinds of guile and cunning
as if for my very life; for a great evil was at hand.
And this plan seemed best to me in my heart.
There were well-fed rams, thick-fleeced,
beautiful and large, with wool of violet dark.
These I silently bound together with well-twisted withes,
on which the monstrous Cyclops, knowing lawless things, used to sleep,
taking them three abreast; and the middle one carried a man,
and the other two on either side went protecting the comrades.
So three men were carried by each sheep; but I,
for there was a ram, by far the best of all the flocks,
taking hold of his back, I curled beneath his shaggy belly
and lay there; and with my hands, clutching the wondrous wool,
I clung unceasingly, twisted in, with a patient heart.
So then, groaning, we waited for shining Dawn.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then the male flocks rushed out to the pasture,
but the females bleated unmilked around the pens;
for their udders were bursting. And the master, tormented
by cruel pains, touched the backs of all the sheep
as they stood upright; but the fool did not notice
that beneath the woolly sheep his men were bound to their chests.
Last of the flock the ram came out through the doorway,
weighed down by his wool and by me, thinking close thoughts.
And mighty Polyphemus touched him and spoke:
'Dear ram, why do you come through the cave last of the flock?
Never before have you come left behind the sheep,
but you grazed far first among the tender flowers of grass,
striding far, and first you reached the streams of rivers,
and first you longed to return to the sheepfold
in the evening; now you are last of all. Surely you long for your master's
eye, which a wicked man blinded
with his wretched comrades, after his wits were overcome with wine,
Nobody, whom I say has not yet escaped destruction.
If only you could think as I do and find voice
to tell me where that man is escaping my fury;
then his brains would be dashed through the cave, here and there,
as he is struck, upon the floor, and my heart
would be eased of the griefs that worthless Nobody gave me.'
So speaking he sent the ram out from him through the doorway.
And when we had gone a little from the cave and the courtyard,
first I loosed myself from under the ram, and I loosed my comrades.
And quickly, the sheep with long feet and rich with fat,
many of them, we drove, turning them about, until we came
to the ship. And we appeared welcome to our dear comrades,
we who had escaped death; but for the others they groaned and wept.
But I would not let them, and I nodded to each with my brows,
to weep, but I ordered them quickly to throw the many
fair-fleeced sheep into the ship and sail over the salt water.
They quickly boarded and sat at the rowing benches,
and sitting in order they struck the grey sea with their oars.
But when we were as far off as a man's shout carries,
then I spoke to the Cyclops with mocking words:
'Cyclops, you were not to eat the comrades of a weak man
in your hollow cave by your brute force.
And your evil deeds were certainly to catch up with you,
wretch, since you did not shrink from eating your guests
in your own house; therefore Zeus has punished you, and the other gods.'
So I spoke, and he was angered still more in his heart,
and he broke off the peak of a great mountain and hurled it,
and it fell in front of the dark-prowed ship,
a little short, and it lacked but a little of reaching the tip of the steering-oar.
And the sea was stirred up as the rock came down;
and the back-rushing wave carried it straight for the shore,
a flood from the deep, and forced it to reach the land.
But I took in my hands a long pole
and pushed it off, and urging on my comrades I ordered them
to fall to the oars, so that we might escape disaster,
nodding with my head; and they leaned forward and rowed.
But when we had gone twice as far over the sea,
then I spoke to the Cyclops; and around me my comrades
held me back from one side and another with gentle words:
'Wretch, why do you wish to provoke a savage man,
who even now has thrown a missile into the sea and driven the ship
back to the land, and we thought we had perished there.
And if he hears the voice or the speech of any of us,
he will smash our heads and the ship's timbers together,
hurling a jagged rock; for so far does he throw.'
So they spoke, but they did not persuade my great-hearted spirit,
but I answered him again with an angry heart:
'Cyclops, if any mortal man
asks you about the shameful blinding of your eye,
say that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, blinded you,
son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.'
So I spoke, and he groaned and answered me with words:
'Alas, truly the old prophecies have come upon me.
There was a prophet here, a man good and great,
Telemus, son of Eurymus, who was skilled in prophecy
and grew old among the Cyclopes prophesying;
he told me that all these things would come to pass hereafter,
that I should lose my sight at the hands of Odysseus.
But I always expected some man great and handsome
to come here, clothed in great might;
but now a man who is small and worthless and feeble
has blinded my eye, after he overcame me with wine.
But come here, Odysseus, so that I may set guest-gifts before you,
and urge the famous earth-shaker to grant you safe passage;
for I am his son, and he claims to be my father.
He himself, if he wishes, will heal me, and no one else,
neither of the blessed gods nor of mortal men.'
So he spoke, and I answered him and said:
'If only I could strip you of life and of soul
and send you to the house of Hades,
as surely as not even the earth-shaker will heal your eye.'
So I spoke, and then he prayed to lord Poseidon,
stretching his hands up to the starry heaven:
'Hear me, Poseidon, earth-holder, dark-haired,
if truly I am yours, and you claim to be my father,
grant that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, may not come home,
the son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.
But if it is his fate to see his loved ones and to come
to his well-built house and to his native land,
may he come late and in misery, having lost all his comrades,
on a stranger's ship, and may he find troubles in his house.'
So he spoke in prayer, and the dark-haired one heard him.
But he lifted a far greater stone again
and hurled it, swinging it, and put his boundless strength behind it,
and it fell behind the dark-prowed ship,
a little short, and it lacked but a little of reaching the tip of the steering-oar.
And the sea was stirred up as the rock came down;
and the wave carried it forward and forced it to reach the land.
But when we came to the island, where the other
well-benched ships were waiting together, and around them the comrades
sat grieving, always waiting for us,
when we came there we beached the ship in the sand,
and we ourselves too went out upon the wave-beat shore.
And taking the Cyclops' sheep from the hollow ship
we divided them, so that no one should go short of his equal share.
And the well-greaved comrades gave the ram to me alone,
as the flocks were divided, a gift of special honour; and on the shore
I cut the thigh-bones and burned them for Zeus the dark-clouded, son of Cronos, who rules over all;
but he did not heed the offerings,
but he pondered how all my well-benched ships
might be destroyed, and my trusty comrades.
So then for the whole day until the sun went down
we sat feasting on countless flesh and sweet wine;
but when the sun had set and darkness came,
then we slept upon the wave-beat shore.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then I urged on my comrades and ordered them
to embark themselves and loose the stern-cables.
They quickly boarded and sat at the rowing benches,
and sitting in order they struck the grey sea with their oars.
Thence we sailed onward, grieving at heart,
glad to have escaped death, but having lost our dear companions.

### Book 10

We came to the Aeolian island, where there lived
Aeolus son of Hippotas, dear to the immortal gods,
on a floating island; and around it ran a wall
of bronze, unbreakable, and a sheer cliff rose up.
Twelve children had been born to him in his halls,
six daughters and six sons in the flower of youth;
and he gave his daughters to his sons to be their wives.
These always beside their dear father and honored mother
feast, and beside them lie countless good things,
and the house reeks of fat, and the courtyard rings
by day; and at night they sleep beside their reverend wives,
in blankets and on corded bedsteads.
And we came to their city and their beautiful halls.
For a whole month he welcomed me and asked me of each thing,
of Ilios and the Argive ships and the return of the Achaeans;
and I told him everything in order, as was right.
But when I in turn asked for the road and urged him
to send me, he refused nothing, but made ready an escort.
He gave me a bag, flayed from a nine-year-old ox,
and in it he tied up the courses of the blustering winds;
for the son of Cronos had made him steward of the winds,
both to still them and to rouse them, whichever he wished.
In the hollow ship he bound it with a shining cord
of silver, so that not even a little might leak out;
and he sent me the breath of the West Wind to blow,
to carry the ships and us; yet he was not destined
to fulfill it; for we perished by our own folly.
Nine days we sailed alike, nights and days,
and on the tenth the fields of our homeland showed,
and already, being near, we saw men tending fires.
Then sweet sleep came over me, for I was weary,
for I always handled the ship's sheet myself, and gave it to no other
of my comrades, so that we might reach our homeland the sooner;
but my comrades spoke words to one another,
and said that I was bringing gold and silver home,
gifts from great-hearted Aeolus, son of Hippotas.
And thus one would speak, looking at another beside him:
"Well now, how this man is dear and honored among all
men, whichever city and land he comes to.
He brings many fine treasures out of Troy,
spoils of war; while we, who have finished the same journey,
come home with empty hands.
And now Aeolus gave him these, pleasing him in friendship.
Come then, let us quickly see what this is,
how much gold and silver is inside the bag."
So they spoke, and the evil counsel of my comrades won;
they untied the bag, and all the winds rushed out.
A squall seized them and bore them at once to the sea,
weeping, away from our own land. But I
woke, and pondered in my blameless heart,
whether to fall from the ship and die in the sea,
or to endure in silence and still be among the living.
But I endured and stayed, and wrapping myself up in the ship
I lay there. And the ships were borne by the evil storm of the wind
back to the Aeolian island, and my comrades groaned.
There we went ashore on the mainland and drew water,
and at once my comrades took their meal beside the swift ships.
But when we had tasted food and drink,
then I, taking with me a herald and one comrade,
went to the famous halls of Aeolus; and I found him
feasting beside his wife and his children.
And coming into the house we sat down on the threshold
by the doorposts; and they were amazed in their hearts and asked:
"How have you come, Odysseus? What evil power has touched you?
Did we not send you off with all care, so that you might reach
your own land and house and whatever is dear to you?"
So they spoke, and I answered, grieving at heart:
"My evil comrades ruined me, and in addition sleep,
that cruel sleep. But heal it, friends; for the power is in you."
So I spoke, touching them with soft words,
and they fell silent; but their father answered with a word:
"Get off the island quickly, most shameful of the living;
for it is not right for me to care for or to send onward
a man who is hated by the blessed gods.
Be gone, since you have come here hated by the gods."
So he spoke and sent me from his halls, groaning heavily.
Then we sailed onward, grieving at heart.
The spirit of the men was worn down by painful rowing,
our own folly, since no escort appeared anymore.
Six days we sailed alike, nights and days,
and on the seventh we came to the steep citadel of Lamos,
Telepylus of the Laestrygonians, where shepherd calls to shepherd
driving his flock in, and the other driving out answers him.
There a sleepless man could earn double wages,
one for herding cattle, one for pasturing the white sheep;
for the paths of night and day lie close together.
When we came to the famous harbor, which a rock
sheer on both sides runs all around,
and jutting headlands, facing one another,
stand out at the mouth, and the entrance is narrow,
there they brought all their well-benched ships inside.
The ships were tied within the hollow harbor
side by side; for no wave ever rose in it,
neither great nor small, but all around was white calm.
But I alone kept my black ship outside,
there at the very edge, tying the cables to the rock;
and I climbed up to a rugged lookout and stood there.
There appeared no works of cattle nor of men,
but we saw only smoke leaping up from the land.
Then I sent comrades out to go and learn
what men, eaters of bread, lived in that land,
choosing two men, and sending a herald as a third with them.
They went ashore along a smooth road, where wagons
carried wood down from the high mountains to the town;
and before the town they met a maiden drawing water,
the daughter of the strong Laestrygonian Antiphates.
She had come down to the fair-flowing spring,
Artakia; for from there they carried water to the town.
They stood beside her and spoke and asked
who was king of these men, and over whom he ruled.
And she at once pointed out her father's high-roofed house.
When they entered the famous halls, the woman
they found as tall as a mountain peak, and they shuddered at her.
She at once called famous Antiphates from the assembly,
her husband, who devised a grim destruction for them.
At once he seized one of the comrades and prepared him as a meal;
and the other two sprang away in flight and reached the ships.
But he raised a shout through the town; and they, hearing it,
came, the powerful Laestrygonians, from one side and another,
countless, like not men but Giants.
They hurled from the cliffs with man-crushing boulders,
and at once a terrible din rose over the ships,
of men perishing and ships being smashed together;
and spearing them like fish they carried them off as a joyless meal.
While they were killing those men inside the deep-gulfed harbor,
meanwhile I, drawing my sharp sword from beside my thigh,
cut with it the cables of my dark-prowed ship.
At once I roused my comrades and commanded them
to throw themselves on the oars, so that we might escape the evil;
and they all churned the sea, in fear of destruction.
Gladly my ship escaped to the open sea from the overhanging rocks;
but the others perished there all together.
Then we sailed onward, grieving at heart,
glad to be out of death, though we had lost our dear comrades.
We came to the island of Aeaea, where there lived
fair-tressed Circe, a dread goddess with a human voice,
own sister of baneful-minded Aeetes;
both were born of Helios who shines on mortals
and of the mother Perse, whom Ocean fathered.
There on the shore we brought the ship in silently,
into a harbor where ships may lie, and some god guided us.
There we went ashore, and for two days and two nights
we lay, eating our hearts with weariness and grief.
But when fair-tressed Dawn brought the third day,
then I, taking my spear and my sharp sword,
went swiftly up from the ship to a place of outlook,
to see if I might see the works of mortals or hear their speech.
I climbed to a rugged lookout and stood there,
and smoke appeared to me from the broad-pathed land,
in Circe's halls, through the thick coppice and the woods.
Then I pondered in my mind and in my heart
whether to go and learn, since I had seen the blazing smoke.
And as I thought, it seemed better to me thus:
to go first to the swift ship and the shore of the sea
and give my comrades their meal, then send them out to learn.
But when I was near, coming to the well-benched ship,
then one of the gods pitied me in my loneliness,
who sent a great high-antlered stag right into my path
as it came down from its woodland pasture to the river
to drink; for the sun's heat was heavy on it.
I struck it as it stepped out, at the spine along the middle of its back
with my spear; and the bronze drove clean through;
and it fell bellowing in the dust, and its life flew away.
Setting my foot on it, I drew the bronze spear from the wound
and laid it down there on the ground;
but I pulled twigs and withies,
and wove a rope a fathom long, well-twisted at both ends,
and bound together the feet of the dread monster,
and went to the black ship carrying it slung over my back,
leaning on my spear, since it was in no way possible on my shoulder
to carry it with one hand; for it was a very great beast.
I threw it down before the ship and roused my comrades
with gentle words, standing beside each man:
"Friends, we will not yet go down, though we grieve,
into the house of Hades, before our fated day comes;
but come, while there is food and drink in the swift ship,
let us remember eating, and not waste away with hunger."
So I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words;
and slipping off their cloaks beside the shore of the unharvested sea
they marveled at the stag; for it was a very great beast.
But when they had taken their fill of looking with their eyes,
they washed their hands and prepared a glorious feast.
So then all day long, until the sun went down,
we sat feasting on endless meat and sweet wine;
and when the sun had set and darkness came on,
then we lay down to sleep on the break of the sea.
And when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then I called an assembly and spoke among them all:
"Hear my words, comrades, though you suffer evils.
Friends, we do not know where the darkness is, nor where the dawn,
nor where the sun that shines on mortals goes beneath the earth,
nor where it rises; so let us take counsel quickly
whether any plan is left. I do not think there is.
For I climbed to a rugged lookout and saw
an island, encircled by the boundless sea;
it lies low, and in the middle of it
I saw smoke with my eyes through the thick coppice and the woods."
So I spoke, and their dear heart was broken
as they remembered the deeds of the Laestrygonian Antiphates
and the violence of the great-hearted Cyclops, the man-eater.
They wept, shedding a plentiful tear;
but no profit came of their weeping.
So I divided all my well-greaved comrades in two,
counting them, and set a leader over each group;
I led one group, and godlike Eurylochus the other.
We quickly shook lots in a bronze helmet;
and the lot of great-hearted Eurylochus leaped out.
He went, and with him two and twenty comrades,
weeping; and they left us behind lamenting.
They found, in a wooded glen, the well-built house of Circe,
of polished stone, in a place open to view all round;
and around it were mountain wolves and lions,
which she herself had bewitched, since she gave them evil drugs.
They did not rush at the men, but they
rose up and fawned on them with their long tails.
As when dogs fawn around their master coming from a feast
(for he always brings them morsels to please them),
so the strong-clawed wolves and lions fawned around them;
and they were afraid, when they saw the terrible monsters.
They stood in the doorway of the fair-tressed goddess,
and inside they heard Circe singing in a beautiful voice,
as she walked to and fro at a great immortal loom, such as the goddesses'
work is: fine and lovely and shining.
Among them Polites, leader of men, began the speech,
who was the dearest and most trusted of my comrades:
"Friends, someone inside, walking at a great loom,
sings beautifully, and the whole floor resounds;
she is either a goddess or a woman. But let us call out quickly."
So he spoke, and they called aloud, calling to her.
She came out at once and opened the shining doors
and called them; and they all followed in their folly,
but Eurylochus stayed behind, suspecting a trick.
She brought them in and seated them on chairs and benches,
and set before them cheese and barley and pale honey
mixed in Pramnian wine; and she stirred into the food
baneful drugs, so that they might utterly forget their native land.
But when she had given it and they had drunk it, at once then
she struck them with her wand and shut them into the pigsties.
They had the heads and voices and bristles of pigs
and their bodies, but their mind stayed firm, as it was before.
So they were shut in weeping; and Circe
threw them mast and acorns and the fruit of the cornel tree
to eat, such as pigs that sleep on the ground always eat.
Eurylochus came at once to the swift black ship
to tell of the comrades and their bitter fate.
He could not utter a word, though he longed to,
his heart struck with great grief; and his two eyes
filled with tears, and his heart brooded on lament.
But when we all, amazed, questioned him,
then he told the destruction of the other comrades:
"We went, as you commanded, glorious Odysseus, through the woods;
we found in a wooded glen a well-built house,
of polished stone, in a place open all round.
There someone walking at a great loom sang shrilly,
a goddess or a woman; and they called aloud to her.
She came out at once and opened the shining doors
and called them; and they all followed in their folly,
but I stayed behind, suspecting a trick.
They vanished all together, and not one of them
appeared again; and I sat a long while watching."
So he spoke; and I slung my silver-studded sword
about my shoulders, a great bronze one, and my bow as well;
and I ordered him to lead back the same way.
But he caught my knees with both hands and begged me,
and lamenting he spoke winged words:
"Do not take me there against my will, Zeus-fed lord, but leave me here.
For I know that you will not come back yourself, nor will you bring
any other of your comrades. Let us flee quickly with these here;
for we might still escape the evil day."
So he spoke, and I answered him and said:
"Eurylochus, you stay here in this place,
eating and drinking beside the hollow black ship;
but I will go; a strong necessity is laid upon me."
So saying, I went up from the ship and the sea.
But when, as I went through the sacred glens, I was about
to reach the great house of Circe of many drugs,
there Hermes of the golden wand met me
as I came toward the house, looking like a young man
at the first down of his beard, whose youth is most graceful;
he took my hand and spoke a word and called me by name:
"Where now, poor man, do you go alone over the heights,
knowing nothing of the place? Your comrades here in Circe's house
are penned like pigs in tight pens.
Are you coming here to set them free? I tell you, you will not
return yourself; you will stay where the others are.
But come, I will free you from these evils and save you.
Here, take this good drug and go to the halls of Circe,
Go on, with this to ward the evil day from your head.
for I will tell you all the deadly wiles of Circe.
She will mix you a potion, and cast drugs into your food.
but not even so will she be able to enchant you; for it will not allow,
the good drug that I will give you; and I will tell you every thing.
When Circe drives at you with her long staff,
then do you draw the sharp sword from beside your thigh
and rush upon Circe, as though you longed to slay her.
She, cowering before you, will bid you lie with her;
then do not thereafter refuse the bed of the goddess,
so that she may free your comrades and care for you yourself;
but bid her swear the great oath of the blessed gods,
that she will not plan any other evil harm against you,
and not make you, stripped bare, weak and unmanned.
So spoke the slayer of Argus, and gave me the drug
as he drew it from the earth, and showed me its nature.
Its root was black, and its flower was like milk;
the gods call it moly; and it is hard for mortal men
to dig it up, but the gods can do all things.
Then Hermes departed toward tall Olympus
across the wooded island, and I went to the halls of Circe;
and my heart seethed with many thoughts as I went.
I stood at the doors of the fair-tressed goddess;
there I stood and cried out, and the goddess heard my voice.
She came out at once and opened the shining doors
and called me in; and I followed, grieving at heart.
She brought me in and seated me on a chair studded with silver,
a fair one, cunningly wrought; and a footstool was beneath my feet.
She made me a potion in a golden cup, that I might drink,
and into it she cast a drug, thinking evil in her heart.
But when she gave it and I drank, she did not enchant me,
but struck me with her staff and spoke a word and called me by name:
"Go now to the pigsty, and lie down with your other comrades."
So she spoke, and I, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,
rushed upon Circe as though I longed to slay her.
She gave a great cry and ducked away and clasped my knees,
and in lamentation she spoke winged words to me:
"Who among men are you, and whence? Where are your city and your parents?
Wonder holds me that, having drunk these drugs, you were not enchanted;
for no other man has withstood these drugs,
whoever drinks them and they first pass the barrier of his teeth.
But in your breast is a mind that cannot be charmed.
Surely you are Odysseus of many turns, whom the golden-wanded
slayer of Argus ever told me would come to me,
returning from Troy with his swift black ship.
But come, put your sword back in its sheath, and then let us two
go up to my bed, so that, joined together
in bed and in love, we may trust one another."
So she spoke, and I answered her and said:
"Circe, how can you bid me be gentle toward you,
you who have turned my comrades into pigs in your halls,
and now, keeping me here and plotting guile, you bid me
go into your chamber and climb into your bed,
so that when I am stripped bare you may make me weak and unmanned.
Nor would I ever be willing to climb into your bed,
unless you would dare, goddess, to swear a great oath to me
that you will not plan any other evil harm against me."
So I spoke, and she swore straightway, as I bade her.
But when she had sworn and finished the oath,
then I went up into the very beautiful bed of Circe.
Meanwhile her handmaids busied themselves in the halls,
four of them, who do the work throughout her house;
and they are born from springs and from groves
and from sacred rivers that flow down to the sea.
One of them threw fine coverlets upon the chairs,
purple above, and beneath she spread linen cloth;
another set out silver tables in front of the chairs,
and upon them she placed golden baskets;
and a third mixed honey-sweet wine in a bowl,
sweet wine in a silver bowl, and dealt out golden cups;
and the fourth carried water and kindled a great fire
under a great tripod; and the water grew warm.
But when the water boiled in the gleaming copper,
she seated me in a bath and poured from the great tripod
over my head and my shoulders, mixing it to my liking,
until she had taken the heart-destroying weariness from my limbs.
But when she had bathed me and anointed me richly with oil,
she threw a fair cloak and a tunic about me,
and brought me in and seated me on a chair studded with silver,
a fair one, cunningly wrought, and a footstool was beneath my feet.
A handmaid brought a pitcher and poured water for my hands
from a fair golden pitcher, over a silver basin,
for me to wash; and beside me she set a polished table.
And the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,
setting out many foods, giving freely of what she had.
She bade me eat; but my heart was not pleased,
but I sat with my mind elsewhere, and my heart foresaw evils.
And when Circe marked that I sat there and did not
put my hands to the food, and that strong grief held me,
she came near and stood beside me and spoke winged words:
"Why, Odysseus, do you sit thus like a man without speech,
eating your heart out, and touching neither food nor drink?
Do you suspect some other trick? You have no need
to fear; for already I have sworn a mighty oath to you."
So she spoke, and I answered her and said:
"Circe, what man who was decent
could endure to taste of food or drink
before he had freed his comrades and seen them with his eyes?
But if you truly bid me drink and eat of my own will,
free them, so that I may see my trusty comrades with my eyes."
So I spoke, and Circe had gone through the hall
with the staff in her hand, and opened the doors of the pigsty,
and drove them out, looking like nine-year-old boars.
Then they stood before her, and she, going among them,
smeared each one with another drug.
And from their limbs the hair fell off, which the baneful drug
had grown on them before, the drug that the lady Circe gave them;
and they became men again, younger than they had been before,
and far fairer and taller to look upon.
Those men knew me, and each clung to my hands.
And a lovely weeping fell upon them all, and the house
rang terribly about them; and the goddess herself took pity.
And she came near and stood by me, the shining among goddesses, and said:
"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,
go now to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.
First of all, drag the ship up onto the land,
and bring your goods and all your gear close in the caves;
and then come back yourself and lead your trusty comrades."
So she spoke, and my proud heart obeyed her,
and I went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.
Then I found my trusty comrades at the swift ship
lamenting piteously, shedding abundant tears.
As when calves in the field come about the herd of cows
that have come into the yard, when they are glutted with pasture,
they all skip together to meet them; and the pens no longer
hold them, but with shrill lowing they run about
their mothers; so those men, when they saw me with their eyes,
poured about me in tears; and their hearts thought
that it was as if they had reached their fatherland and the very city
of rugged Ithaca, where they were reared and born.
And in lamentation they spoke winged words to me:
"At your return, Zeus-nourished one, we rejoiced
as if we had come to our fatherland, the land of Ithaca;
but come, tell us of the destruction of the other comrades."
So they spoke, and I addressed them with gentle words:
"Let us first of all drag the ship up onto the land,
and bring our goods and all our gear close in the caves;
and do you all bestir yourselves to follow along with me,
so that you may see your comrades in the sacred halls of Circe
drinking and eating; for they have abundance."
So I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words.
But Eurylochus alone held back all the comrades;
and he spoke and addressed them with winged words:
"Ah, wretched men, where are we going? Why do you long for these evils,
to go down into the hall of Circe, who will make you all
either pigs or wolves or lions,
so that we must guard her great house, and by force,
just as the Cyclops did, when our comrades
came into his farmyard, and bold Odysseus followed with them;
for through his recklessness those men too perished."
So he spoke, and I pondered in my heart
whether, drawing the long-edged sword from beside my thick thigh,
to strike off his head and bring it to the ground,
though he was my kinsman by marriage, very near; but my comrades
held me back from another side with gentle words, one and another:
"Zeus-born one, let this man be, if you bid it,
to stay here beside the ship and guard the ship;
but do you lead us to the sacred halls of Circe."
So they spoke, and we went up from the ship and the sea.
Nor was Eurylochus left behind beside the hollow ship,
but he followed; for he feared my terrible rebuke.
Meanwhile Circe had kindly bathed the other comrades in her halls
and anointed them richly with oil,
and thrown thick cloaks and tunics about them;
and we found them all feasting well in the halls.
And when they saw one another face to face and knew each other,
they wept and lamented, and the house groaned about them.
And she came near and stood by me, the shining among goddesses, and said:
"Raise no longer now this abundant weeping; I myself know
all the pains you suffered on the fish-filled sea,
and all the harms that lawless men did you on land.
But come, eat your food and drink your wine,
until you take back the spirit in your breasts,
such as when you first left your fatherland,
rugged Ithaca. But now you are worn out and spiritless,
always remembering your hard wandering, and never
is your heart in gladness, since you have suffered very much."
So she spoke, and our proud hearts obeyed her.
There we sat all our days for a full year,
feasting on countless meats and sweet wine;
but when the year had passed and the seasons turned
as the months waned, and the long days were fulfilled,
then my trusty comrades called me out and said:
"Strange man, remember now your native land,
if it is fated that you be saved and reach
your high-roofed house and your own native land."
So they spoke, and my proud heart obeyed.
So then the whole day long until the setting sun
we sat, feasting on countless meats and sweet wine;
and when the sun had set and darkness came on,
they lay down to sleep through the shadowy halls.
But I, having gone up into the very beautiful bed of Circe,
clasped her knees in supplication, and the goddess heard my voice;
and I spoke and addressed her with winged words:
"Circe, fulfill for me the promise that you made,
to send me home; for my heart is eager already,
and so are the hearts of the others, who wear away my dear heart
lamenting about me, whenever you are away."
So I spoke, and she answered straightway, the shining among goddesses:
"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,
no longer now stay in my house against your will.
But first you must complete another journey and reach
the halls of Hades and of dread Persephone,
to consult the spirit of the Theban Teiresias,
the blind seer, whose mind is still steadfast;
to him alone, even among the dead, Persephone gave understanding,
that he alone be wise; the others flit about as shadows."
So she spoke, and my dear heart broke within me;
I sat on the bed and wept, and my heart
no longer wished to live and see the light of the sun.
But when I had had my fill of weeping and rolling about,
then I answered her and spoke:
"Circe, who then will guide me on this journey?
For no one has yet reached the house of Hades in a black ship."
So I spoke, and she answered straightway, the shining among goddesses:
"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,
let no longing for a guide trouble you beside the ship;
but set up your mast, and spread your white sails,
and sit still; and the breath of the North Wind will carry her.
But when you have crossed the Ocean with your ship,
there is a low shore and the groves of Persephone,
and tall black poplars and willows that shed their fruit;
beach your ship there on the deep-eddying Ocean,
and go yourself into the dank house of Hades.
There the Pyriphlegethon and Cocytus flow into Acheron,
Cocytus, which is a branch of the water of Styx,
and there is a rock and the meeting-place of the two roaring rivers.
There then, hero, drawing near, as I bid you,
dig a pit, a cubit's length this way and that,
and pour a libation about it to all the dead,
first with honey-mixed milk, then with sweet wine,
and the third again with water; and sprinkle white barley upon it.
And pray many times to the strengthless heads of the dead,
promising that when you come to Ithaca you will sacrifice a barren cow, the best one,
in your halls and fill a pyre with good things,
and to Teiresias alone, apart, sacrifice a sheep,
all black, which stands out among your flocks.
But when with prayers you have besought the glorious tribes of the dead,
then sacrifice a ram and a black ewe,
turning them toward Erebus, and turn away yourself,
looking toward the streams of the river; and there many
souls of the dead, of those who have died, will come.
Then rouse your comrades and command them
to take the sheep that lie there, slain by the pitiless bronze,
flay them and burn them, and pray to the gods,
to mighty Hades and to dread Persephone;
and do you yourself, drawing the sharp sword from beside your thigh,
sit still, and do not let the strengthless heads of the dead
come near the blood, before you have heard Teiresias.
There the seer will come to you straightway, leader of the people,
who will tell you the way and the measures of the journey,
and your return, how you will come over the fish-filled sea."
So she spoke, and straightway came golden-throned Dawn.
She clothed me about in a cloak and a tunic;
and the nymph herself put on a great silver-shining robe,
fine and lovely, and about her waist she cast a belt
beautiful and golden, and on her head she set a veil.
But I went through the halls and roused my comrades
with gentle words, standing beside each man:
"No longer now, sleeping, enjoy sweet sleep,
but let us go; for the lady Circe has told me all."
So I spoke, and their proud hearts obeyed.
Yet not even from there did I lead my comrades unharmed.
There was a certain Elpenor, the youngest, not very
strong in war nor firm in his own wits;
who, apart from his comrades in the sacred halls of Circe,
longing for the cool, lay down heavy with wine.
And hearing the noise and tramp of the moving comrades,
he sprang up suddenly and forgot in his wits
to go back down by the long ladder,
but fell headlong from the roof; and his neck
was broken from his backbone, and his soul went down to Hades.
And as they came, I spoke a word among them:
"You think, no doubt, that you are going home to your dear native land;
but Circe has marked out another journey for us,
to the halls of Hades and of dread Persephone,
to consult the spirit of the Theban Teiresias."
So I spoke, and their dear hearts broke within them,
and they sat down right there and wailed and tore their hair;
but no profit came of their lamenting.
But when we were going to the swift ship and the shore of the sea,
sorrowing, shedding abundant tears,
meanwhile Circe had gone and tethered beside the black ship
a ram and a black ewe,
passing by lightly; and who could see a god with his eyes
going here or there, if the god is unwilling?

### Book 11

But when we had come down to the ship and to the sea,
first of all we dragged the ship into the bright salt water,
and set the mast inside it and the sails in the black ship,
and taking the sheep we put them aboard, and we ourselves
climbed aboard too, grieving, shedding a thick tear.
And behind us, for the ship with the dark-blue prow,
she sent a following wind that filled the sails, a good companion,
Circe of the lovely braids, a dread goddess with a human voice.
And we, having made fast each rope throughout the ship,
sat down; and the wind and the helmsman steered her.
All day long her sails were stretched as she traveled the sea,
and the sun went down and all the pathways grew shadowy.
And she came to the limits of deep-flowing Ocean.
There is the land and the city of the Cimmerian men,
wrapped in mist and cloud; never upon them
does the shining sun look with his rays,
neither when he climbs up into the starry heaven,
nor when he turns back again toward the earth from heaven,
but deadly night is stretched out over those wretched mortals.
Coming there we beached the ship, and out we
took the sheep; and we ourselves again beside the stream of Ocean
went on, until we came to the place that Circe had shown.
There Perimedes and Eurylochus held
the victims; and I, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,
dug a pit of a cubit's length this way and that,
and around it I poured a drink-offering to all the dead,
first with honeyed milk, then afterwards with sweet wine,
and the third time with water; and I sprinkled white barley over it.
And I besought many times the strengthless heads of the dead,
promising that when I came to Ithaca I would offer a barren cow, the best of all,
and sacrifice in my halls, and fill a pyre with good things,
and to Tiresias, apart from the rest, to sacrifice a sheep, to him alone,
all-black, which stands out among my flocks.
But when with vows and prayers I had besought the tribes of the dead,
taking the sheep I cut their throats
over the pit, and the dark-clouded blood flowed; and they gathered,
the souls of the dead who had died, from out of Erebus.
Brides and unwed youths and much-enduring old men,
and tender maidens with hearts of new-made grief,
and many wounded by bronze-tipped spears,
men slain in war, wearing blood-stained armor;
these thronged in crowds around the pit, one from one side, one from another,
with a wondrous cry; and pale fear seized me.
Then I urged on my comrades and commanded them
to flay the sheep that lay there slain by the pitiless bronze,
and to burn them, and to pray to the gods,
to mighty Hades and to dread Persephone;
and I myself, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,
sat still, and I did not allow the strengthless heads of the dead
to come nearer to the blood, before I had asked of Tiresias.
First came the soul of my comrade Elpenor;
for he had not yet been buried beneath the wide-pathed earth;
for we had left his body in the hall of Circe,
unwept and unburied, since another toil pressed on us.
I wept when I saw him and I pitied him in my heart,
and speaking to him I addressed him with winged words:
Elpenor, how did you come down under the misty darkness?
Did you come on foot faster than I did with the black ship?
So I spoke, and he groaned and answered me with a word:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,
the evil fate of a god undid me, and the measureless wine.
For lying down in the hall of Circe I did not think
to go back down by the long ladder,
but I fell straight down from the roof; and my neck
was broken from the spine, and my soul went down to the house of Hades.
Now I beg you, by those behind, who are not with us,
by your wife and your father, who raised you when you were small,
and by Telemachus, whom you left alone in the halls;
for I know that going from here, out of the house of Hades,
you will bring your well-built ship to the island of Aeaea;
there, then, my lord, I bid you remember me.
Do not leave me unwept and unburied when you go away,
having departed, lest I become some cause of the wrath of the gods,
but burn me with my armor, all that I have,
and heap a mound for me on the shore of the gray sea,
of an unhappy man, to be known to men who are yet to be.
Fulfill this for me, and fix an oar upon the tomb,
the oar with which I rowed while alive among my comrades.
So he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:
This all, unhappy man, I will fulfill and perform.
So we two sat exchanging hateful words,
I on one side holding the sword over the blood,
and on the other side the phantom of my comrade spoke many things.
Then came the soul of my mother, who had died,
Anticleia, daughter of great-hearted Autolycus,
whom I left alive when I set out for holy Ilium.
I wept when I saw her and I pitied her in my heart,
but not even so did I let her, though I grieved heavily,
come nearer to the blood, before I had learned of Tiresias.
Then came the soul of the Theban Tiresias,
holding a golden staff, and he knew me and spoke to me:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,
why now, unhappy man, having left the light of the sun,
have you come, to see the dead and this joyless place?
But draw back from the pit, and hold off your sharp sword,
so that I may drink the blood and tell you the truth.
So he spoke, and I drew back and thrust the silver-studded sword
into its sheath. And when he had drunk the dark blood,
then indeed the blameless prophet addressed me with words:
You seek your honey-sweet homecoming, glorious Odysseus;
a god will make it hard for you; for I do not think
you will escape the Earthshaker, who has set wrath in his heart
against you, angry because you blinded his dear son.
But even so you might still come home, though suffering evils,
if you are willing to restrain your own spirit and your comrades',
when first you bring your well-built ship
to the island Thrinacia, fleeing over the violet-dark sea,
and find grazing cattle and sturdy flocks
of Helios, who looks upon all things and hears all things.
If you leave them unharmed and take thought for your homecoming,
you may still come to Ithaca, though suffering evils;
but if you harm them, then I foretell destruction
for your ship and your comrades. And if you yourself escape,
you will come home late and badly, having lost all your comrades,
in a stranger's ship; and you will find woes in your house,
overweening men, who devour your livelihood,
wooing your godlike wife and offering bridal gifts.
But you will surely take vengeance on their violence when you come.
And when you have killed the suitors in your halls,
either by guile or openly with the sharp bronze,
then go, taking up a well-fitted oar,
until you come to men who do not know the sea,
men who do not eat food mixed with salt,
and who do not know ships with crimson cheeks,
nor well-fitted oars, which are wings to ships.
And I will tell you a sign, very clear indeed, and it will not escape you:
when another traveler, meeting you,
says that you have a winnowing-fan on your shining shoulder,
then plant in the ground your well-fitted oar,
and make fair sacrifices to lord Poseidon,
a ram, a bull, and a boar that mounts the sows,
and go back home and perform holy hecatombs
to the immortal gods who hold the broad heaven,
all of them in due order. And death will come to you from the sea,
a very gentle death, such as will slay you
worn by sleek old age; and around you the people
will be blessed. And these things I tell you truly.
So he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:
Tiresias, the gods themselves have surely spun all this.
But come, tell me this and recount it exactly:
I see here the soul of my mother, who has died;
she sits in silence near the blood, and she has not dared
to look at her own son face to face nor to speak to him.
Tell me, lord, how may she know me for what I am?
So I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:
Easy is the word I will speak, and I will put it in your mind.
Whichever one of the dead you allow
to come nearer to the blood, that one will tell you the truth;
but whomever you begrudge it to, that one will go back again.
So speaking, the soul of lord Tiresias went within the house of Hades,
when he had spoken his oracles;
but I stayed there steadfastly, until my mother
came and drank the dark-clouded blood; and straightway she knew me,
and lamenting she addressed me with winged words:
My child, how have you come down under the misty darkness
while alive? And it is hard for the living to look upon these things.
For in between lie great rivers and dread streams,
Ocean first of all, which no one can cross
on foot, unless he has a well-built ship.
Have you come here wandering from Troy
with ship and comrades for a long time? Have you not yet come
to Ithaca, nor seen your wife in your halls?
So she spoke, and I answered her and addressed her:
My mother, a need brought me down to the house of Hades,
to consult the soul of the Theban Tiresias;
for I have not yet come near Achaea, nor have I yet
set foot on my own land, but I wander always in misery,
ever since I first followed shining Agamemnon
to Ilium of good horses, to fight with the Trojans.
But come, tell me this and recount it exactly:
what fate of long-drawn death subdued you?
Was it a lingering sickness, or did Artemis the arrow-pourer
come upon you with her gentle arrows and slay you?
And tell me of my father and of the son whom I left behind,
whether my honor still lies with them, or some other man
already holds it, and they say that I will not come home.
And tell me the counsel and the mind of my wooed wife,
whether she stays beside my son and keeps everything steadfast,
or has already married whichever of the Achaeans is best.
So I spoke, and the revered mother answered straightway:
Indeed that woman stays with an enduring heart
in your halls; and her wretched nights and days
always waste away as she sheds tears.
No one yet holds your fair honor, but at his ease
Telemachus farms the lands and feasts at equal banquets,
such as it is fitting for a man who gives judgments to enjoy;
for all men invite him. But your father stays there
in the country, and does not come down to the city. Nor does he have
bed and blankets and shining rugs,
but in winter he sleeps where the servants sleep in the house,
in the dust close to the fire, and he wears evil clothing on his body;
but when summer comes and the luxuriant harvest-time,
everywhere along the slope of his vineyard soil
low beds of fallen leaves are strewn for him.
There he lies grieving, and he greatly increases the sorrow in his heart,
longing for your return, and hard old age comes upon him.
So I too perished and met my fate;
neither did the keen-sighted arrow-pourer come upon me in my halls
with her gentle arrows and slay me,
nor did any sickness come upon me, which most of all
takes the spirit from the limbs with hateful wasting;
but my longing for you and your counsels, glorious Odysseus,
and your gentle kindness took away my honey-sweet spirit.
So she spoke, and I wished in my heart, pondering,
to take the soul of my mother, who had died, in my arms.
Three times I sprang toward her, and my heart urged me to hold her,
and three times she flew from my hands like a shadow or a dream.
And sharp grief grew in my heart the more,
and speaking to her I addressed her with winged words:
My mother, why will you not wait for me, who long to hold you,
so that both of us, throwing our arms around each other,
may take our joy in chilling lamentation in the house of Hades?
Or is this phantom sent by the glorious Persephone,
so that I may groan and lament the more?
So I spoke, and the revered mother answered straightway:
Ah me, my child, most wretched of all mortals,
Persephone, the daughter of Zeus, does not deceive you,
but this is the custom of mortals, whenever one dies;
for no longer do the sinews hold flesh and bones together,
but the strong might of blazing fire subdues them,
as soon as the spirit first leaves the white bones,
and the soul, like a dream, flies off and flutters away.
But long for the light of day as quickly as you can; and know all this,
so that you may tell it hereafter to your wife.
So we two exchanged words with one another, and the women came,
for the glorious Persephone urged them on,
all who were wives and daughters of the chieftains.
And they gathered in a crowd around the dark blood,
and I considered how I might question each one.
And this counsel seemed best to my heart:
drawing my long-edged sword from beside my thick thigh,
I did not allow them all together to drink the dark blood.
And they came forward in order, and each one
declared her lineage; and I questioned them all.
There first I saw Tyro of the goodly father,
who said she was the offspring of blameless Salmoneus,
and said she was the wife of Cretheus, son of Aeolus;
she loved the divine river Enipeus,
which flows over the earth the fairest of all rivers,
and she used to wander along the fair streams of Enipeus.
And the Earthholder, the Earthshaker, making himself like him,
lay beside her at the mouth of the whirling river;
and a purple wave stood around them, like a mountain,
arching over, and it hid the god and the mortal woman.
He loosed her maiden girdle and poured sleep upon her.
And when the god had accomplished the works of love,
he clasped her hand and spoke a word and called her by name:
Rejoice, woman, in this loving; and when the year comes round,
you will bear glorious children, since the beds of the immortals
are not unfruitful; but you must care for them and rear them.
But now go to your house, and keep silent and do not name me;
for I am Poseidon, the Earthshaker.
So saying, he plunged beneath the surging sea.
And she, conceiving, bore Pelias and Neleus,
who became mighty servants of great Zeus,
both of them; Pelias dwelt in spacious Iolcus,
rich in flocks, and the other in sandy Pylos.
And the others she bore to Cretheus, a queen among women,
Aeson and Pheres and Amythaon, who delighted in chariots.
And after her I saw Antiope, daughter of Asopus,
who claimed that she had lain in the arms of Zeus,
and she bore two sons, Amphion and Zethus,
who first founded the seat of seven-gated Thebes,
and walled it, since they could not
dwell in spacious Thebes unwalled, strong though they were.
And after her I saw Alcmena, wife of Amphitryon,
who bore Heracles, bold-spirited, lion-hearted,
having lain in the arms of great Zeus;
and Megara, daughter of overbearing Creon,
whom the son of Amphitryon held, his might forever unwearied.
And I saw the mother of Oedipus, the fair Epicaste,
who did a great deed in the ignorance of her mind,
marrying her own son; and he, having slain his father,
married her; and straightway the gods made it known among men.
But he remained in much-loved Thebes, ruling the Cadmeians
and suffering griefs, through the deadly counsels of the gods;
and she went to the house of strong, gate-barring Hades,
having tied a high noose from the lofty beam,
mastered by her grief; and she left griefs behind for him,
very many, such as a mother's Furies bring to pass.
And I saw beautiful Chloris, whom once Neleus
married for her beauty, since he gave countless bridal gifts,
the youngest daughter of Amphion, son of Iasus,
who once ruled by force in Minyan Orchomenus;
and she was queen of Pylos, and bore him glorious children,
Nestor and Chromius and proud Periclymenus.
And besides these she bore sturdy Pero, a wonder to mortals,
whom all the neighboring men wooed; but Neleus
would not give her to any man unless he drove off the spiral-horned, broad-browed cattle
from Phylace, the grievous cattle of mighty Iphicles;
and the blameless prophet alone promised to drive them out;
but the hard fate of the god bound him fast,
and painful bonds, and the rustic herdsmen.
But when the months and the days were being fulfilled
as the year rolled round again and the seasons came on,
then the might of Iphicles loosed him,
when he had told all the oracles; and the will of Zeus was accomplished.
And I saw Leda, the wife of Tyndareus,
who bore to Tyndareus two stout-hearted sons,
Castor the horse-tamer and Polydeuces good at boxing,
whom the life-giving earth holds both of them alive;
they, even beneath the earth, having honor from Zeus,
live on alternate days, and again at other times
are dead; and they have obtained honor equal to the gods.
And after her I saw Iphimedeia, wife of Aloeus,
who said that she had lain with Poseidon,
and she bore two sons, but they were short-lived,
godlike Otus and far-famed Ephialtes,
whom the grain-giving earth reared as the tallest
and by far the fairest, after famed Orion;
for at nine years old they were nine cubits
in breadth, and in height they grew to nine fathoms.
These two even threatened the immortal gods on Olympus
to set up the din of much-roaring war;
they meant to set Ossa upon Olympus, and upon Ossa
Pelion with its shaking leaves, so that heaven might be climbed.
And they would have accomplished it, if they had reached the measure of youth;
but the son of Zeus, whom fair-haired Leto bore,
slew them both, before beneath their temples the down
bloomed and covered their cheeks with a fair-flowering beard.
And I saw Phaedra and Procris and the fair Ariadne,
the daughter of baleful-minded Minos, whom once Theseus
was leading from Crete to the hill of holy Athens,
but he did not enjoy her; for Artemis killed her first,
on sea-girt Dia, on the testimony of Dionysus.
And I saw Maera and Clymene and hateful Eriphyle,
who accepted precious gold for the life of her own husband.
But I could not tell of all of them nor name them,
all the wives and the daughters of heroes that I saw;
for sooner would the immortal night fail. But it is also time
to sleep, either going to the swift ship to my comrades,
or here; and the sending home shall be the care of the gods and of you.
So he spoke, and they all became silent in stillness,
and they were held by enchantment throughout the shadowy halls.
And among them white-armed Arete began the words:
Phaeacians, how does this man seem to you to be,
in form and in stature and in the good sense within him?
He is my guest, and each of you has a share in the honor;
so do not send him off in haste, and do not
cut short the gifts for one who is so in need; for many
possessions lie in your halls by the will of the gods.
And among them spoke the old hero Echeneus,
who was the eldest of the Phaeacian men:
Friends, the thoughtful queen does not speak
off the mark nor against what we believe; but obey her.
But on Alcinoos here depends both deed and word.
And Alcinoos answered him again and spoke:
This word shall indeed be so, if I at least
rule as king, while alive, over the oar-loving Phaeacians;
but let the stranger endure, though he longs greatly for his homecoming,
to wait until tomorrow all the same, until I have made
all the gift-giving complete; and the sending home shall be the care
of all men, but most of all of me; for the power in the district is mine.
And many-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Alcinoos, mighty lord, most renowned of all peoples,
even if you should bid me stay here for a year,
and urge on my sending home and give me glorious gifts,
I would wish for that, and it would be far more profitable,
to come to my dear fatherland with a fuller hand;
and I would be more respected and dearer among all men,
all who might see me returned to Ithaca.
And Alcinoos answered him again and spoke:
Odysseus, we do not look on you and suppose
that you are a deceiver and a cheat, such as many
the black earth nourishes, scattered far and wide among men,
who fashion lies out of things no one could see;
but upon you there is a beauty of words, and within you a good mind.
And you have recounted your tale skillfully, as a bard would,
the grievous sorrows of all the Argives and of yourself.
But come, tell me this and recount it exactly,
whether you saw any of your godlike comrades, who with you
followed to Ilium and there met their fate.
And this night is very long, immeasurably long; and it is not yet time
to sleep in the hall; but do you tell me the wondrous deeds.
And I could hold out until the bright dawn, if you
would consent to tell me your sorrows in the hall.
And many-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Alcinoos, mighty lord, most renowned of all peoples,
there is a time for many words, and a time also for sleep;
but if you are still eager to listen, I would not
begrudge you this, but would tell other things more pitiable still,
the sorrows of my comrades, who perished afterwards,
who escaped from the groaning battle-cry of the Trojans
and perished on the way home through the will of a wicked woman.
But when the holy Persephone had scattered the souls
of the tender women this way and that,
then came the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,
grieving; and around him the others gathered, all who with him
had died in the house of Aegisthus and met their fate.
And he knew me at once, when he had drunk the dark blood;
and he wept shrilly, shedding a thick tear,
stretching out his hands toward me, eager to touch me;
but there was no longer any steadfast strength in him, nor any vigor
such as there had been before in his supple limbs.
I wept when I saw him and I pitied him in my heart,
and speaking to him I addressed him with winged words:
Most glorious son of Atreus, lord of men Agamemnon,
what fate of long-drawn death subdued you?
Did Poseidon subdue you among your ships,
rousing a hateful blast of grievous winds?
Or did hostile men do you harm on the mainland,
as you were cutting off cattle and fair flocks of sheep,
or fighting for a city and for its women?
So I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,
neither did Poseidon subdue me among the ships,
rousing a hateful blast of grievous winds,
nor did hostile men do me harm on the mainland,
but Aegisthus, contriving death and doom for me,
killed me with the help of my accursed wife, calling me to his house,
feasting me, as one kills an ox at its manger.
So I died a most pitiable death; and around me the other comrades
were slaughtered unceasingly, like white-tusked boars,
in the hall of a rich man of great power,
at a wedding or a gathering or a lavish banquet.
You have already come upon the slaughter of many men,
killed singly and in strong battle;
but you would have grieved most of all in your heart at that sight,
how around the mixing-bowl and the loaded tables
we lay in the hall, and the whole floor steamed with blood.
And most piteous of all I heard the voice of the daughter of Priam,
Cassandra, whom crafty Clytemnestra killed
over me, while I, raising my hands toward the ground,
struck them as I was dying around the sword; and the shameless woman
turned away, and she did not dare, though I was going to Hades,
to close my eyes with her hands or to press my mouth shut with hers.
So there is nothing more dreadful and more shameless than a woman,
one who lays such deeds in her mind;
such a shameful deed indeed that woman contrived,
planning murder for her wedded husband. And I thought
that I would come home welcome to my children and my servants;
but she, knowing exceeding wickedness,
poured forth shame both on herself and on women to come
hereafter, even on her who does what is good.
So he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:
Alas, indeed Zeus the far-thundering has terribly hated
the race of Atreus, through the counsels of women,
from the beginning; for Helen's sake many of us perished,
and for you Clytemnestra contrived a snare while you were far away.
So I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:
Therefore never now be gentle with a woman, even so;
do not reveal to her every word that you know well,
but tell one part, and let the other be hidden.
But it will not be from a woman that murder comes to you, Odysseus;
for the daughter of Icarius, the thoughtful Penelope,
is very prudent and knows good counsels in her mind.
We indeed left her a young bride
when we went to the war; and she had a child at her breast,
an infant, who now, I suppose, sits among the numbered men,
blessed; for his dear father will see him when he comes,
and he will embrace his father, as is right.
But my wife did not allow me to be filled with the sight of my son,
even with my eyes; before that she killed me too.
And I will tell you another thing, and do you put it in your mind:
secretly, and not openly, bring your ship
to your dear fatherland; for there is no longer trust in women.
But come, tell me this and recount it exactly,
whether you hear anywhere that my son is still alive,
either at Orchomenus or at sandy Pylos,
or somewhere by Menelaus in broad Sparta;
for godlike Orestes has not yet died on the earth.
So he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:
Son of Atreus, why do you ask me this? I do not know at all
whether he is alive or dead; and it is bad to babble empty words.
So we two stood exchanging hateful words,
grieving, shedding a thick tear;
and there came the soul of Achilles, son of Peleus,
and that of Patroclus and of blameless Antilochus
and of Ajax, who was the best in form and in build
of the other Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus.
And the soul of the swift-footed descendant of Aeacus knew me,
and lamenting he addressed me with winged words:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,
reckless man, what greater deed will you yet devise in your mind?
How did you dare to come down to the house of Hades, where the dead
dwell without sense, the phantoms of mortals who have died?
So he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:
Achilles, son of Peleus, by far the greatest of the Achaeans,
I came for the need of Tiresias, in the hope that he might tell
some counsel, how I might come to rugged Ithaca;
for I have not yet come near Achaea, nor have I yet
set foot on my own land, but I always have troubles. But than you, Achilles,
no man was ever more blessed before, nor shall be hereafter.
For before, while you were alive, we honored you like the gods,
we Argives, and now again you hold great power among the dead
while you are here; so do not grieve at all at having died, Achilles.
So I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:
Do not comfort me about death, glorious Odysseus.
I would rather be a hired laborer, serving another man,
a man with no portion of land, who has but little livelihood,
than to be king over all the dead who have perished.
But come, tell me news of my glorious son,
whether he followed to the war to be a champion, or not.
And tell me of blameless Peleus, if you have heard anything,
whether he still holds honor among the many Myrmidons,
or do they dishonor him throughout Hellas and Phthia,
because old age holds his hands and his feet.
For I am no defender under the beams of the sun,
such as I once was in broad Troy,
when I killed the best of the host, defending the Argives;
if I could come as such a one, even for a moment, to my father's house,
then I would make hateful my might and my resistless hands
to those who do him violence and drive him from his honor.
So he spoke, and I answered him and addressed him:
Indeed I have heard nothing of blameless Peleus,
but of your dear son Neoptolemus I will tell you
the whole truth, as you bid me;
for I myself brought him from Scyrus in a hollow, well-balanced ship,
to the well-greaved Achaeans.
Indeed, when we were considering counsels around the city of Troy,
he was always the first to speak and he did not miss the mark in words;
only godlike Nestor and I surpassed him.
But when we fought with bronze on the Trojan plain,
he never stayed back in the throng of men nor in the crowd,
but he ran far ahead, yielding to no one in his might,
and he killed many men in the dread battle-strife.
But I could not tell of all of them nor name them,
how many of the host he killed defending the Argives,
but only how he slew with the bronze the son of Telephus,
the hero Eurypylus, and around him many comrades
of the Cetians were killed for the sake of women's gifts.
Him I saw as the fairest, after godlike Memnon.
And when we went down into the horse that Epeius built,
the best of the Argives, and everything was assigned to me,
both to open the close ambush and to shut it,
there the other leaders and counselors of the Danaans
were wiping away tears and the limbs of each man trembled;
but him I never saw at all with my eyes
either growing pale in his fair skin or wiping
a tear from his cheeks; but he begged greatly
to be let out of the horse, and he kept feeling for the hilt of his sword
and his bronze-heavy spear, and he planned evil for the Trojans.
But when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,
he went aboard the ship holding his share and his fine prize
unharmed, neither struck by the sharp bronze
nor wounded in close combat, such wounds as often
happen in war; for Ares rages confusedly.
So I spoke, and the soul of the swift-footed descendant of Aeacus
went with long strides across the field of asphodel,
rejoicing that I had told him his son was renowned.
And the other souls of the dead who had died
stood grieving, and each one asked about her own sorrows.
But the soul of Ajax, son of Telamon, alone
stood apart, angry because of the victory
that I had won over him in the judgment beside the ships
over the armor of Achilles; and his revered mother had set it out.
And the sons of the Trojans judged, and Pallas Athena.
How I wish I had not won in such a contest!
For such a head as his did the earth cover because of that armor,
Ajax, who in form and in deeds was fashioned above
the other Danaans, after the blameless son of Peleus.
And I addressed him with gentle words:
Ajax, son of blameless Telamon, were you not going
even in death to forget your anger against me because of the armor,
that accursed armor? The gods made it a woe for the Argives,
for such a tower as you were, you perished for them; and we Achaeans
grieve for you forever as much as for the head of Achilles, son of Peleus;
and no one else
is to blame, but Zeus terribly hated the host of spear-bearing Danaans,
and laid a fate upon you.
But come here, lord, so that you may hear our word and speech;
and subdue your might and your proud spirit.
So I spoke, and he answered me nothing, but went off after the other
souls of the dead who had died, into Erebus.
There, even though angry, he would have spoken to me, or I to him;
but my heart in my dear breast wished
to see the souls of the other dead.
There indeed I saw Minos, the glorious son of Zeus,
holding a golden staff, giving judgment to the dead,
seated, and they asked him, their lord, for judgments,
sitting and standing throughout the wide-gated house of Hades.
And after him I noticed huge Orion
driving the wild beasts together across the field of asphodel,
the very beasts he had killed in the lonely mountains,
holding in his hands a club of solid bronze, forever unbroken.
And I saw Tityus, son of the far-famed Earth,
lying on the ground; and he lay over nine acres of land,
and two vultures, sitting on either side of him, tore at his liver,
dipping into the fat, and he did not fend them off with his hands;
for he had dragged off Leto, the glorious wife of Zeus,
as she was going to Pytho through beautiful Panopeus.
And indeed I saw Tantalus, having great agony,
standing in a pool; and the water came near his chin;
he seemed to be thirsty, but he could not take and drink;
for as often as the old man bent down, eager to drink,
so often the water was swallowed down and vanished, and at his feet
the black earth showed, and a god withered him away.
And trees with high-fluttering leaves poured down fruit from the top,
pear trees and pomegranates and apple trees with shining fruit,
sweet figs and luxuriant olives;
and whenever the old man reached out with his hands to grasp them,
the wind tossed them up toward the shadowy clouds.
And indeed I saw Sisyphus, having great agony,
lifting a huge stone with both hands.
He would brace himself with hands and feet together
and push the stone upward toward the hill; but whenever he was about
to thrust it over the top, then its power turned it back,
and again the shameless stone rolled down to the plain.
But he strained and pushed it up, and the sweat poured
from his limbs, and dust rose from his head.
And after him I noticed the might of Heracles,
a phantom; but he himself among the immortal gods
delights in feasting and holds fair-ankled Hebe,
the daughter of great Zeus and of Hera of the golden sandals.
And around him was a clamor of the dead, like birds,
scattering in panic on every side; and he, like the dark night,
holding his bare bow and an arrow on the string,
glaring terribly, seeming always about to shoot.
And dread across his chest was his sword-belt,
a golden strap, in which wondrous works were fashioned,
bears and wild boars and lions with shining eyes,
battles and fights and slaughters and killings of men.
May the one who made it by his craft never make another thing,
whoever placed that belt into his skill.
And he knew me again, when he saw me with his eyes,
and lamenting he addressed me with winged words:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,
ah, poor man, are you too leading some evil doom,
the kind I once endured under the beams of the sun?
I was a son of Zeus, son of Cronos, yet I had
boundless misery; for I was enslaved to a far worse man,
and he laid cruel labors upon me.
And once he sent me here to bring away the dog; for he thought
there was no other labor more powerful than this for me;
and I brought him up and led him out of the house of Hades,
and Hermes sent me on, and bright-eyed Athena.
So saying, he went back again into the house of Hades,
but I stayed there steadfastly, in case anyone else should come
of the heroic men, who had perished in former times.
And I might have seen yet more men of former days, whom I wanted,
Theseus and Peirithous, glorious children of the gods;
but before that, countless tribes of the dead gathered,
with a wondrous cry; and pale fear seized me,
lest the revered Persephone send against me from the house of Hades
the Gorgon's head of that dread monster.
Then straightway I went to the ship and commanded my comrades
both to embark themselves and to loose the stern-cables.
And they embarked quickly and sat down at the rowing-benches.
And the wave of the river carried the ship down along Ocean,
first with rowing, and afterwards with a fair following wind.

### Book 12

But when the ship had left the stream of the river Oceanus
and was come to the swell of the wide-pathed sea,
and to the island Aeaea, where are the dwelling and the dances
of early-born Dawn and the risings of the Sun,
there we came and hauled the ship up on the sands,
and we ourselves stepped out onto the surf of the sea;
and there we lay down and slept and waited for glorious Dawn.
But when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then I sent my comrades to the house of Circe
to bring the dead man, Elpenor, who had died.
Then we cut wood quickly, where the headland jutted out farthest,
and buried him grieving, shedding a big warm tear.
But when the dead man was burned, and the armour of the dead man,
and we had heaped up a mound and drawn up a gravestone,
we planted on the topmost mound his well-shaped oar.
We were busy with each thing; nor did Circe escape our notice,
for we had come back from Hades, but very quickly
she came, dressed and ready; and her handmaidens brought with her
bread and much meat and red sparkling wine.
And she stood in the midst and spoke, the shining goddess among goddesses:
Wretched men, who living went down into the house of Hades,
twice-dying, when other men die but once.
Come then, eat food and drink wine
here all day long; and when the Dawn appears
you shall sail; and I will show you the way and everything
I will make clear, so that you suffer no harm
upon the sea or on land through wretched evil scheming.
So she spoke, and our proud spirit was persuaded again.
So then all day long until the setting of the sun
we sat feasting on countless meat and sweet wine.
But when the sun had set and darkness came on,
they lay down to sleep beside the ship's stern-cables,
but she took me by the hand and led me apart from my dear companions,
and sat me down and lay beside me and asked me everything;
and I told her all things in due order.
And then indeed the lady Circe addressed me with words:
All this has now been brought to pass; but do you listen,
as I will tell you, and a god himself will put you in mind of it.
First you will come to the Sirens, who beguile all
men, whoever comes near to them.
Whoever in his ignorance draws near and hears the voice
of the Sirens, for him neither wife nor little children
stand beside him when he comes home, nor do they rejoice,
but the Sirens beguile him with their clear-sounding song,
sitting in a meadow, and about them a great heap of bones
of rotting men, and the skin shrinks away about them.
But drive past them, and stop the ears of your companions
with honey-sweet wax you have kneaded, lest any of the others
hear it; but if you yourself wish to hear,
let them bind you in the swift ship, both hands and feet,
upright in the mast-step, and let the ropes be fastened to it,
so that you may hear the voice of the two Sirens and take delight in it.
And if you beg your companions and command them to loose you,
then let them bind you with even more bonds.
But when your companions have driven past them,
then I will no longer tell you plainly thereafter
which of the two ways will be yours, but you yourself
must resolve it in your heart; and I will tell you of both.
On the one side are overhanging rocks, and against them
a great wave roars of the dark-faced Amphitrite;
these the blessed gods call the Wandering Rocks.
By that way not even winged things pass, nor yet doves,
the timid ones, that bring ambrosia to father Zeus,
but even of these the smooth rock always takes one away;
yet the father puts another in, to keep the number full.
By that way no ship of men has ever yet escaped, whichever comes there,
but the waves of the sea and the blasts of deadly fire
carry off together the planks of the ships and the bodies of men.
Only one sea-faring ship has ever sailed past it,
the Argo, dear to all, sailing from Aeetes.
And even it would quickly have been cast against the great rocks,
but Hera sent it past, because Jason was dear to her.
And there are two cliffs; the one reaches the broad heaven
with its sharp peak, and a cloud wraps about it,
dark blue; and that never clears away, nor does the clear sky
ever hold that peak, neither in summer nor at harvest time.
Nor could a mortal man climb it or set foot upon it,
not even if he had twenty hands and twenty feet;
for the rock is smooth, like something polished.
And in the middle of the cliff there is a misty cave,
turned toward the west, toward Erebus, where you,
shining Odysseus, would steer your hollow ship past.
Nor from the hollow ship could a vigorous man
shoot with a bow and reach the hollow cave.
And therein dwells Scylla, barking terribly.
Her voice is as much as of a new-born puppy,
but she herself is a wicked monster; and no one
would be glad to see her, not even if a god met her.
She has twelve feet, all misshapen,
and six necks, very long, and on each of them
a dreadful head, and in each three rows of teeth
close-set and crowded, full of black death.
She is sunk down in the middle of the hollow cave,
but she puts her heads out from the dread abyss,
and fishes there, peering greedily about the rock,
for dolphins and dogs, and if ever she catches something bigger,
a sea-monster, such as groaning Amphitrite feeds in thousands.
No sailors ever yet boast
to have escaped her with their ship; but she carries off with each head
a man, snatching him from the dark-prowed ship.
And the other cliff, Odysseus, you will see is lower.
Close to each other; and you could shoot an arrow across.
On it there is a great wild fig tree, rich in leaves;
beneath it divine Charybdis sucks down the black water.
Three times a day she vomits it up, and three times she sucks it down
terribly; may you never be there when she sucks it down;
for not even the earth-shaker could drag you out of that evil.
But clinging close to Scylla's cliff, drive your ship
past quickly, since it is far better
to mourn six comrades in the ship than all together.
So she spoke, but I answered her and said:
Come then, goddess, tell me this truly,
whether I might somehow escape deadly Charybdis,
and defend myself, when she does harm to my companions.
So I spoke, and she answered me straightway, the shining goddess among goddesses:
Wretched man, so now you have in mind deeds of war
and toil; will you not yield even to the immortal gods?
She is not mortal, but an immortal evil,
dreadful and hard and fierce and not to be fought with;
there is no defence; the best thing is to flee from her.
For if you linger there arming yourself beside the rock,
I fear lest she rush out at you again and catch you
with so many heads, and take so many men.
But drive on very fast, and call upon Crataiis,
the mother of Scylla, who bore her as a plague to mortals;
she will then keep her from rushing out again hereafter.
And you will come to the island Thrinacia; there many
cattle of the Sun graze, and fat sheep,
seven herds of cattle, and as many good flocks of sheep,
fifty in each. And no offspring is born to them,
nor do they ever waste away. And goddesses are their shepherds,
nymphs with lovely braids, Phaethusa and Lampetie,
whom divine Neaera bore to the Sun Hyperion.
The lady mother, having reared them and borne them,
settled them in the island Thrinacia to dwell far away,
to guard the sheep of their father and the curving cattle.
If you leave them unharmed and care for your homecoming,
then you might still reach Ithaca, though suffering troubles;
but if you harm them, then I foretell destruction for you,
for your ship and your companions; and though you yourself escape,
you will come home late and wretched, having lost all your companions.
So she spoke, and straightway golden-throned Dawn came.
Then the shining goddess among goddesses went up across the island;
but I went to the ship and roused my companions
to embark themselves and to loose the stern-cables.
They quickly boarded and sat down at the benches.
Sitting in order they struck the grey sea with their oars.
And behind us, from the dark-prowed ship,
fair Circe of the lovely braids, a dread goddess with a human voice,
sent a following breeze, filling the sails, a good companion.
At once we made all things ready throughout the ship
and sat down; and the wind and the helmsman steered her.
Then I spoke among my companions, grieving at heart:
Friends, it is not right that one or two alone should know
the oracles which Circe told me, the shining goddess among goddesses;
but I will tell you, so that knowing we may either die
or avoid death and escape destruction.
First she bade us avoid the voice of the wondrous Sirens
and their flowering meadow.
Only me she bade hear their voice; but bind me
in a painful bond, so that I stay fixed there,
upright in the mast-step, and let the ropes be fastened to it.
And if I beg you and command you to loose me,
then you must press me down with even more bonds.
So I told my companions everything, making it clear;
and meanwhile the well-built ship came quickly
to the island of the two Sirens; for a harmless fair wind pressed it on.
At once then the wind ceased, and there was
a windless calm, and a god lulled the waves to sleep.
My companions rose and furled the ship's sails
and laid them in the hollow ship, and sitting at the oars
they whitened the water with their polished pine blades.
But I cut a great wheel of wax with sharp bronze
into small pieces, and pressed it with my strong hands;
and quickly the wax softened, since the great might compelled it,
and the ray of the Sun, the son of the lord Hyperion.
And in order I smeared it on the ears of all my companions.
And they bound me in the ship, both hands and feet together,
upright in the mast-step, and fastened the ropes to it;
and they themselves sat and struck the grey sea with their oars.
But when we were as far off as a man's shout can carry,
as we sped swiftly, the swift-sailing ship did not escape their notice
as it came near, and they prepared their clear-sounding song:
Come here, come, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans,
stop your ship, so that you may hear our voice.
For no one has ever yet rowed past this place in his black ship,
before hearing the honey-sweet voice from our mouths,
but he goes on, delighted, and knowing more than before.
For we know all that in wide Troy
the Argives and the Trojans suffered by the will of the gods,
and we know all that comes to pass on the bountiful earth.
So they spoke, sending forth their lovely voice; and my heart
wanted to listen, and I ordered my companions to loose me,
nodding with my brows; but they fell to rowing the harder.
At once Perimedes and Eurylochus rose
and bound me in more bonds and pressed me harder still.
But when they had passed them by, and no longer thereafter
did we hear the voice of the Sirens nor their song,
at once my trusty companions took off the wax
which I had smeared on their ears, and loosed me from my bonds.
But when we had left the island, at once thereafter
I saw smoke and a great wave and heard a thundering noise.
And from their hands in fear the oars flew,
and all clattered along the current; and there the ship stopped,
since they no longer urged the sharp oars with their hands.
But I went through the ship and roused my companions
with gentle words, standing beside each man:
Friends, we are not yet unacquainted with evils;
surely this is no greater evil than when the Cyclops
penned us in his hollow cave with his strong might;
but even from there, by my courage and counsel and mind,
we escaped, and I think we shall remember these things too.
But come now, let us all be persuaded as I shall say.
You, strike the deep surf of the sea with your oars,
sitting at the benches, in the hope that Zeus
may grant us to escape and flee this destruction;
and to you, helmsman, I give this command; but lay it
in your heart, since you handle the steering-oars of the hollow ship.
Keep the ship outside this smoke and wave,
and cling to the cliff, lest she escape your notice
and rush out there and cast us into evil.
So I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words.
But Scylla I no longer told them of, a hopeless grief,
lest somehow in fear my companions might cease
from rowing and huddle together inside the ship.
And then I forgot the grievous command of Circe,
since she did not bid me arm myself at all.
But I went down into my glorious armour and took two spears
long in my hands, and went up onto the ship's deck
at the prow; for I expected that she would appear there first,
Scylla of the rocks, who brought trouble to my companions.
But I could not see her anywhere, and my eyes grew weary
as I peered everywhere toward the misty rock.
We sailed up the narrow strait groaning;
on one side Scylla, on the other divine Charybdis
terribly sucked down the salt water of the sea.
When she vomited it up, like a cauldron on a great fire
she boiled up all seething, and the spray on high
fell upon both the topmost cliffs;
but when she swallowed down the salt water of the sea,
she showed all seething within, and around the rock
she roared terribly, and below the ground appeared
black with sand; and pale fear seized them.
We looked toward her in fear of destruction;
and meanwhile Scylla snatched six of my companions from the hollow ship,
the strongest of all in hands and in strength.
When I looked toward the swift ship and among my companions,
I already noticed the feet and the hands of those men
being lifted up on high; and they called out to me,
calling me by name, for the last time, grieving at heart.
As when a fisherman on a jutting rock with a very long rod
casts a lure for the little fish, a snare of food,
and sends into the sea the horn of a field-grazing ox,
and then catches one gasping and throws it out,
so those men were lifted gasping toward the rocks;
and there in the mouth of the cave she devoured them as they screamed,
stretching out their hands to me in the terrible fight;
that was the most pitiful thing my eyes ever saw
of all the toils I suffered, searching out the passages of the sea.
But when we had escaped the rocks and dread Charybdis
and Scylla, at once thereafter we came to the flawless island
of the god; and there were fair broad-browed cattle,
and many fat sheep of Hyperion the Sun.
Then, while I was still on the sea in the black ship,
I heard the lowing of the cattle as they were stalled
and the bleating of sheep; and a saying fell into my heart
of the blind seer, Teiresias of Thebes,
and of Circe of Aeaea, who had told me very many things,
to avoid the island of the Sun who delights mortals.
Then I spoke among my companions, grieving at heart:
Hear my words, companions, though you suffer troubles,
so that I may tell you the prophecies of Teiresias
and of Circe of Aeaea, who told me very many things,
to avoid the island of the Sun who delights mortals;
for there, she said, would be the most terrible evil for us.
But drive the black ship past the island.
So I spoke, and their dear hearts were broken within them.
At once Eurylochus answered me with a hateful word:
You are hard, Odysseus; there is great strength in you, and your limbs
never grow weary; surely you are made all of iron,
you who do not let your companions, worn out with toil and with sleep,
set foot on land, where we might once more
prepare a pleasant supper on the sea-girt island,
but you order us to wander thus through the swift night,
driven away from the island, on the misty sea.
At night come hard winds, the ruin of ships;
how could anyone escape sheer destruction,
if suddenly a squall of wind should come,
from the South Wind or from the harsh West Wind, which most of all
tear a ship apart, against the will of the lords, the gods?
But come now, let us obey the black night,
and prepare supper, staying beside the swift ship,
and at dawn we will go aboard and put out into the broad sea.
So spoke Eurylochus, and the other companions agreed.
And then I knew that the god was planning evil;
and I spoke to him and addressed him with winged words:
Eurylochus, you surely force me hard, though I am only one man.
But come now, all of you swear me a strong oath:
if we find any herd of cattle or a great flock of sheep,
let no one in wicked recklessness
kill a cow or any sheep; but quietly
eat the food that immortal Circe gave.
So I spoke, and they straightway swore as I commanded.
But when they had sworn and finished the oath,
we moored the well-built ship in the hollow harbour
near the sweet water, and the companions stepped out
of the ship, and then they prepared supper skillfully.
But when they had put away the desire for drink and for food,
then they remembered and wept for their dear companions,
whom Scylla had eaten, snatching them from the hollow ship;
and as they wept, sweet sleep came over them.
But when it was the third part of the night, and the stars had gone by,
Zeus the cloud-gatherer roused a violent wind against us
with a wondrous squall, and covered with clouds
the land and the sea together; and night rushed down from heaven.
But when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
we moored the ship, dragging it into a hollow cave.
And there were fair dancing places of the nymphs and seats;
and then I called an assembly and spoke among them:
Friends, in the swift ship there is food and drink,
so let us keep away from the cattle, lest we suffer harm;
for these cattle and fat sheep belong to a dread god,
the Sun, who sees all things and hears all things.
So I spoke, and their proud spirit was persuaded.
And for a whole month the South Wind blew without ceasing, and no other
wind arose after that except the East Wind and the South Wind.
As long as they had grain and red wine,
so long they kept away from the cattle, longing to live.
But when all the provisions of the ship were gone,
then they roamed about hunting by necessity,
for fish and birds, whatever came to their hands,
with curved hooks, and hunger wore out their bellies;
then I went off across the island, so that I might pray
to the gods, if anyone would show me the way home.
But when I had gone through the island and got away from my companions,
I washed my hands, in a place sheltered from the wind,
and prayed to all the gods who hold Olympus;
and they poured sweet sleep over my eyelids.
But Eurylochus began to give my companions evil counsel:
Hear my words, companions, though you suffer troubles.
All deaths are hateful to wretched mortals,
but the most pitiful is to die of hunger and meet that fate.
But come, let us drive off the best of the Sun's cattle
and sacrifice to the immortals who hold the broad heaven.
And if we reach Ithaca, our native land,
we will quickly build for the Sun Hyperion a rich temple,
and in it we will set many fine offerings.
And if, angered about the straight-horned cattle,
he wishes to destroy the ship, and the other gods agree with him,
I would rather lose my life at once, gulping down the wave,
than waste away for a long time on a deserted island.
So spoke Eurylochus, and the other companions agreed.
At once they drove off the best of the Sun's cattle
from nearby, for not far from the dark-prowed ship
the fine, curving, broad-browed cattle were grazing;
and they stood around them and prayed to the gods,
plucking tender leaves from a high-leafed oak;
for they had no white barley on the well-benched ship.
But when they had prayed and slaughtered and flayed them,
they cut out the thigh-bones and covered them with fat,
making a double layer, and laid raw pieces on top of them.
They had no wine to pour on the burning offerings,
but they poured water and roasted all the innards.
But when the thighs were burned and they had tasted the innards,
they chopped up the rest and pierced it on spits.
And then sweet sleep rushed from my eyelids,
and I went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.
But when I came near the curved ship,
then the sweet savour of the fat wrapped around me.
I groaned and cried aloud to the immortal gods:
Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,
surely you lulled me into ruin with a pitiless sleep.
And my companions staying behind planned a great deed.
And swift-footed Lampetie of the long robe came as a messenger
to the Sun Hyperion, that we had killed his cattle.
And at once, angered at heart, he spoke among the immortals:
Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,
take vengeance on the companions of Odysseus, son of Laertes,
who killed my cattle in their arrogance, cattle in which I
delighted as I went up into the starry heaven,
and when I turned back again to the earth from heaven.
And if they do not pay me a fitting price for the cattle,
I will go down into Hades and shine among the dead.
And Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him and said:
Sun, you shine indeed among the immortals
and among mortal men on the grain-giving earth;
but I will quickly strike their swift ship with a bright thunderbolt
and smash it into small pieces in the middle of the wine-dark sea.
And I heard this from fair-haired Calypso;
and she said she herself had heard it from Hermes the guide.
But when I came down to the ship and the sea,
I reproached one man after another, standing beside each, but we could
find no remedy, and the cattle were already dead.
And at once the gods showed them signs:
the hides crawled, and the meat on the spits bellowed,
both roasted and raw, and a voice came out like that of cattle.
For six days then my trusty companions
feasted on the best of the Sun's cattle which they had driven off;
but when Zeus the son of Cronos brought the seventh day,
then the wind ceased, blowing in a squall,
and we quickly went aboard and put out into the broad sea,
setting up the mast and hoisting the white sails.
But when we had left the island, and no other
land appeared, but only sky and sea,
then the son of Cronos set a dark cloud
above the hollow ship, and the sea grew murky beneath it.
And she ran on for no long time; for quickly came
the West Wind screaming, blowing with a great squall,
and the blast of the wind snapped both the forestays of the mast;
and the mast fell backward, and all the gear
poured down into the bilge. And it struck the head
of the helmsman at the stern of the ship, and smashed all
the bones of his head together; and he, like a diver,
fell down from the deck, and his proud spirit left his bones.
And Zeus thundered at the same time and hurled a thunderbolt at the ship;
and she was shaken all over, struck by the bolt of Zeus,
and filled with sulphur, and my companions fell from the ship.
And they, like sea-crows, around the black ship
were carried by the waves, and the god took away their homecoming.
But I went up and down through the ship, until the surge
loosed the sides from the keel, and the wave carried her stripped bare,
and it snapped the mast off at the keel. And upon it
a back-stay had been thrown, made of ox-hide;
with this I bound both together, the keel and the mast,
and sitting on them I was carried by the deadly winds.
Then indeed the West Wind ceased, blowing in a squall,
and the South Wind came quickly, bringing grief to my heart,
so that I might measure out deadly Charybdis again.
All night long I was carried, and at the rising of the sun
I came to the rock of Scylla and to dread Charybdis.
She was sucking down the salt water of the sea;
but I, lifted up high toward the great fig tree,
clung to it and held on, like a bat. But I had nowhere
to set my feet firmly or to stand on;
for the roots were far below, and the branches hung high,
long and great, and they overshadowed Charybdis.
I held on unceasingly, until she should vomit up again
the mast and the keel; and, though I longed for them, they came
late; but at the hour when a man rises from the assembly for supper,
judging many quarrels of young men who plead their cases,
at that hour the timbers of Charybdis appeared.
I let go my feet and hands to fall down from above,
and dropped with a thud in the middle, beside the long timbers,
and sitting on them I rowed with my hands.
But Scylla the father of men and gods did not let me
see again; for I would not have escaped sheer destruction.
From there I was carried for nine days, and on the tenth night
the gods brought me to the island Ogygia, where Calypso
lives, fair-haired, a dread goddess with a human voice,
who loved me and cared for me. Why do I tell you these things?
For I already told them to you yesterday in your house,
to you and to your strong wife; and it is hateful to me
to tell again a tale that has been clearly told.

### Book 13

So he spoke, and all of them fell silent, hushed in stillness,
held spellbound in their hearts through the shadowy halls.
Then Alcinous answered him and spoke aloud:
Odysseus, since you have come to my house with its bronze threshold,
high-roofed, I think you shall not be driven back again
to return home, though you have suffered very many things.
To each man among you I speak these words, as I desire,
as many as in my halls ever drink the elders' flaming wine
and listen to the singer.
The clothing for the stranger lies in the well-smoothed chest,
and the gold intricately wrought, and all the other
gifts that the counsellors of the Phaeacians brought here.
But come, let us give him a great tripod and a cauldron,
man by man; and we in turn, gathering through the district,
shall be repaid; for it is hard for one man to give a gift for nothing.
So spoke Alcinous, and his word pleased them.
They went each to his own house to lie down to sleep,
and when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
they hurried to the ship, and carried the bronze that gladdens men.
And the sacred might of Alcinous stowed these things well,
going himself through the ship beneath the benches, lest any of the comrades
be harmed as they rowed, when they should hasten at the oars.
They went to the house of Alcinous and made ready the feast.
And the sacred might of Alcinous sacrificed a bull for them
to Zeus the dark-clouded, son of Cronus, who rules over all.
Burning the thigh bones, they feasted on a glorious feast,
taking delight; and among them sang the godlike singer,
Demodocus, honoured by the people. But Odysseus
kept turning his head often toward the all-shining sun,
eager for it to set; for he longed to be gone.
As when a man longs for his supper, for whom all day long
his wine-dark oxen have drawn the jointed plough through the fallow field,
and gladly for him the light of the sun goes down,
so that he may go to his supper, and his knees fail as he walks,
so welcome to Odysseus was the setting light of the sun.
At once he spoke among the oar-loving Phaeacians,
and above all to Alcinous he declared his word:
Alcinous, lord, most renowned of all peoples,
send me on my way with libations, unharmed, and may you yourselves fare well;
for already all that my dear heart desired is accomplished,
escort and dear gifts; may the gods who dwell in heaven
make them blessed; and may I find at home a blameless wife
when I return, with my dear ones safe and sound.
But do you, remaining here, give joy to your wedded wives
and children; and may the gods grant you every excellence,
and may no evil come among your people.
So he spoke, and they all praised him and urged
that the stranger be sent on his way, since he had spoken fittingly.
And then the sacred might of Alcinous addressed the herald:
Pontonous, mix the bowl and serve the honey-hearted wine
to all throughout the hall, so that when we have prayed to father Zeus
we may send the stranger to his own native land.
So he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine,
and served it to all, standing by each in turn; and they poured libations to the blessed gods
who hold the wide heaven,
from where they sat. And godlike Odysseus stood up,
and placed in the hand of Arete a two-handled cup,
and speaking he addressed her with winged words:
Farewell to me, O queen, forever, until old age
and death come, which are the lot of humankind.
But I go home; and may you take delight in this house
with your children and your people and Alcinous the king.
So saying, godlike Odysseus stepped over the threshold,
and with him the sacred might of Alcinous sent the herald
to lead the way to the swift ship and the shore of the sea;
and Arete sent along with him her handmaid women,
one carrying a well-washed cloak and a tunic,
and to another she gave a close-packed chest to carry along;
and a third brought bread and red wine.
But when they had come down to the ship and the sea,
at once the noble escorts in the hollow ship
received them and stowed them, all drink and all food;
and they spread for Odysseus a rug and a sheet of linen
on the deck planks of the hollow ship, so that he might sleep a sleep that knows no waking,
at the stern; and he himself stepped aboard and lay down
in silence; and they sat each at his own bench
in order, and loosed the cable from the pierced stone.
When they had leaned back and were tossing the salt sea with their oars,
then sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids,
a sleep that knows no waking, most pleasant, most like to death.
And she, as when on a plain four stallion horses,
all starting together under the strokes of the whip,
lifting themselves high, swiftly accomplish their course,
so her stern rose up, and behind her a great purple wave
raged of the much-resounding sea.
And she ran very safely and steadily; not even a hawk,
the circling hawk, could have kept pace with her, the lightest of winged things.
So swiftly running she cut through the waves of the sea,
carrying a man whose counsels were like to the gods;
who before had suffered very many griefs in his own heart,
passing through wars of men and grievous waves,
yet then he slept quietly, forgetful of all that he had endured.
When the brightest star rose up, which comes most of all
announcing the light of early-born Dawn,
then the sea-faring ship drew near to the island.
There is a certain harbour of Phorcys, the old man of the sea,
in the land of Ithaca; and two jutting headlands are in it,
sheer cliffs, leaning toward the harbour,
which shelter the great wave of the ill-blowing winds
from outside; and within, without a mooring line, stay
well-benched ships, when they have reached the measure of their anchorage.
And at the head of the harbour is a long-leafed olive,
and near it a lovely shadowy cave,
sacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads.
In it are mixing bowls and two-handled jars
of stone; and there the bees store up their honey.
And in it are long stone looms, where the nymphs
weave sea-purple cloth, a wonder to behold;
and in it are ever-flowing waters. And it has two doors,
one toward the North, a descent for mortals,
and the other toward the South, and that one is more divine; and by that way
no men enter, but it is the path of the immortals.
There they drove in, not knowing it beforehand; and she then
ran aground on the mainland as far as half of her whole length,
hurrying on; so greatly was the strength of the rowers urgent.
And they, stepping out of the well-benched ship onto the land,
first lifted Odysseus out of the hollow ship
together with his linen sheet and his shining rug,
and laid him on the sand, mastered by sleep,
and lifted out the possessions which the noble Phaeacians
had given him as he went homeward, through great-hearted Athena.
And these they piled together beside the foot of the olive
off the road, lest some one of the passing men
come upon them before Odysseus woke and do him harm;
and they themselves went back home again. Nor did the earth-shaker
forget the threats which he had first made against godlike Odysseus,
but he asked the counsel of Zeus:
Father Zeus, no longer shall I be honoured
among the immortal gods, since mortals do not honour me at all,
the Phaeacians, who are indeed of my own lineage.
For even now I said that Odysseus, having suffered many evils,
would come home; and I never wholly took from him his homecoming,
since you first promised and nodded assent.
But they, carrying him sleeping in the swift ship over the sea,
set him down in Ithaca, and gave him countless gifts,
bronze and gold in abundance and woven clothing,
many things, such as Odysseus would never have carried away from Troy,
even if he had come unharmed, having drawn his share from the spoil.
And Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him and said:
Alas, earth-shaker of wide strength, what a thing you have said.
The gods do not dishonour you; and it would be hard
to cast dishonour upon the eldest and the best.
But if any man, yielding to your force and might,
does not honour you, there is always vengeance for you hereafter too.
Do as you wish, and as is dear to your heart.
Then Poseidon the earth-shaker answered him:
I would straightway do it, dark-clouded one, as you say;
but I always regard and shun your anger.
Now again I wish that the very beautiful ship of the Phaeacians,
as it returns from its escort, in the misty sea,
I might smash, so that they may now hold back and cease from the escort
of mortals, and wrap a great mountain around their city.
And Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him:
My dear one, as it seems best to my own heart,
when all the people from the city see it as it is rowed in,
then set a stone near the land,
like to a swift ship, so that all men may marvel,
and wrap a great mountain around their city.
But when Poseidon the earth-shaker heard this,
he went to Scheria, where the Phaeacians dwell.
There he waited; and the sea-faring ship came very near,
swiftly driven; and the earth-shaker came near it,
who turned it to stone and rooted it fast beneath,
striking it with the flat of his hand; and he had gone away.
And they spoke winged words to one another,
the Phaeacians of long oars, men famous for their ships.
And thus would one say, looking at another near him:
Alas, who has bound the swift ship in the sea
as it was being rowed home? And indeed it had appeared entire.
So would one speak; but they did not know how it had happened.
Then Alcinous addressed them and said:
Alas, indeed the prophecies spoken long ago have come upon me,
from my father, who said that Poseidon was angered
against us, because we are blameless escorts of all men.
He said that one day a very beautiful ship of Phaeacian men,
returning from an escort, in the misty sea,
would be smashed, and a great mountain would wrap around our city.
So the old man spoke; and now all this is being fulfilled.
But come, let us all be persuaded as I shall say:
cease from the escort of mortals, whenever any one comes
to our city; and to Poseidon let us sacrifice twelve bulls,
chosen ones, in the hope that he may take pity,
and not wrap a towering mountain around our city.
So he spoke, and they were afraid, and made ready the bulls.
So they prayed to lord Poseidon,
the leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacian people,
standing around the altar. And godlike Odysseus woke
as he slept in his native land, and he did not recognize it,
having been long away; for the goddess had poured mist around him,
Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, so that she might make him
unrecognized, and tell him everything,
lest his wife or townsmen or friends recognize him before
he should exact payment for all the outrage of the suitors.
Therefore all things appeared of another shape to the lord,
the long straight paths and the harbours fit for every mooring,
and the steep cliffs and the flourishing trees.
He sprang up and stood, and looked upon his native land;
and then he groaned aloud and smote his thighs
with the flat of his hands, and lamenting he spoke a word:
Woe is me, into the land of what mortals have I come now?
Are they violent and savage, and not just,
or are they hospitable, and is their mind god-fearing?
Where shall I carry these many goods? And where shall I myself
wander? Would that I had stayed with the Phaeacians
there; and I might have come to another of the over-mighty kings,
who would have loved me and sent me on my way.
But now I do not know where to put these things, nor will I leave them
there, lest they become spoil for others.
Alas, so the leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians were not
all thoughtful and just,
who led me away to another land, though they said
they would bring me to clear-seen Ithaca, and they did not fulfil it.
May Zeus, the god of suppliants, punish them, who also
watches over other men and takes vengeance on whoever does wrong.
But come, let me count the goods and look them over,
lest they have gone off carrying some of them in the hollow ship.
So saying, he counted the very beautiful tripods and cauldrons
and the gold and the woven beautiful garments.
He missed nothing of these; but he lamented for his native land,
crawling along the shore of the much-resounding sea,
lamenting greatly. And Athena came near to him,
in form like a young man, a herdsman of sheep,
very delicate, such as the sons of lords are,
wearing a well-made two-fold cloak about her shoulders;
and under her shining feet she had sandals, and in her hands a spear.
And Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her, and came to meet her,
and speaking he addressed her with winged words:
Friend, since I first come upon you in this place,
greetings, and do not meet me with any evil intent,
but save these things, and save me; for to you I pray
as to a god, and I come to your dear knees.
And tell me this truly, so that I may know it well:
What land, what people, what men are born here?
Is it some clear-seen island, or some shore
lying there by the sea of the rich-soiled mainland?
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:
You are a fool, stranger, or you have come from far away,
if you ask about this land. And it is not at all
so nameless; very many know it,
both those who dwell toward the dawn and the sun,
and those who live behind toward the misty darkness.
Indeed it is rugged and not fit for horses,
nor overly poor, but it is not made broad either.
For in it there is unspeakable grain, and in it wine
is produced; and rain always holds it, and flourishing dew;
it is good for grazing goats and cattle; there is woodland
of every kind, and in it there are ever-flowing watering places.
So, stranger, the name of Ithaca has reached even to Troy,
which they say is far from the land of Achaea.
So she spoke, and much-enduring godlike Odysseus rejoiced,
glad for his native land, as she told him,
Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis;
and speaking he addressed her with winged words:
But he did not speak the truth, and he held his word back again,
always turning in his breast a mind full of gain:
I heard of Ithaca even in broad Crete,
far across the sea; and now I myself have come
with these goods; and leaving behind as much again for my children
I am a fugitive, because I killed the dear son of Idomeneus,
Orsilochus swift of foot, who in broad Crete
conquered men who earn their bread with his swift feet,
because he wished to rob me of all the spoil
from Troy, for which I suffered griefs in my heart,
passing through wars of men and grievous waves,
because I did not serve, pleasing his father,
in the land of the Trojans, but led other comrades.
Him, as he came down from the field, I struck with my bronze-tipped spear,
lying in wait with a comrade near the road;
and a very dark night held the sky, and no one
of men noticed us, and I took his life unseen.
But when I had killed him with the sharp bronze,
at once I went to the ship and besought the noble Phoenicians,
and I gave them a spoil that pleased their hearts;
I asked them to set me down and bring me to Pylos
or to godlike Elis, where the Epeians rule.
But indeed the force of the wind drove them from there,
much against their will, and they did not wish to deceive me.
And driven wandering from there, we came here by night.
With haste we rowed into the harbour, and none of us
had any thought of supper, though we much needed to take it,
but just as we were, all of us lay down after stepping off the ship.
There sweet sleep came upon me as I lay wearied,
and they took my goods out of the hollow ship
and set them down where I myself lay on the sand.
And they, going aboard for well-peopled Sidon,
went off; and I was left with an aching heart.
So he spoke, and the goddess bright-eyed Athena smiled,
and stroked him with her hand; and she was like in form to a woman,
beautiful and tall, and skilled in glorious works;
and speaking she addressed him with winged words:
Crafty and thievish would he be who could outdo you
in all deceits, even if a god should contend with you.
Hard one, of many wiles, insatiate in tricks, you were not going
to cease from deceits, not even when in your own land,
and from thievish words, which are dear to you from the ground up.
But come, let us no longer speak of these things, since we both know
cunning, since you are far the best of all mortals
in counsel and in speech, and I among all the gods
am famed for wisdom and for cunning; nor did you recognize
Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, who always
stands by you in all labours and guards you,
and made you dear to all the Phaeacians,
and now I have come here, so that I may weave counsel with you
and hide the goods which the noble Phaeacians
gave you as you went homeward, by my counsel and mind,
and tell you all the woes that fate decrees for you
to endure in your well-built halls; and you must endure them perforce,
and not reveal it to anyone, neither man nor woman,
of all people, that you have come wandering, but in silence
endure many griefs, submitting to the violence of men.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her:
Hard it is, goddess, for a mortal who meets you to know you,
even for one well skilled; for you liken yourself to everything.
But this I know well, that you were kind to me before,
while we sons of the Achaeans fought at Troy.
But when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,
and went aboard the ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans,
I did not see you after that, daughter of Zeus, nor did I notice
you boarding my ship, that you might ward off some grief from me.
But ever holding in my own heart a torn spirit
I wandered, until the gods released me from misery;
until, in the rich land of the Phaeacian men,
you encouraged me with words and yourself led me to the city.
But now I beseech you by your father, for I do not think
that I have come to clear-seen Ithaca, but that I wander over some other
land; and I think you are mocking me
in saying this, so that you may beguile my mind.
Tell me if I have truly come to my dear native land.
Then the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:
Always such is the thought in your breast;
therefore I cannot forsake you in your misery,
because you are gentle and quick-minded and prudent.
For gladly would another man, coming home after wandering,
long in his halls to see his children and his wife;
but it is not yet dear to you to learn or to ask,
before you have made trial of your wife, who sits thus
in the halls, and for her always wretched
the nights and the days waste away as she sheds tears.
But I never disbelieved this, but in my heart
I knew that you would return having lost all your comrades;
but I did not wish to fight with Poseidon
my father's brother, who put wrath in his heart against you,
angry because you blinded his dear son.
But come, I will show you the seat of Ithaca, so that you may believe.
This is the harbour of Phorcys, the old man of the sea,
and this at the head of the harbour is the long-leafed olive;
and near it the lovely shadowy cave,
sacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads;
and this is the vaulted grotto, where you
used to offer many perfect hecatombs to the nymphs;
and this is Mount Neriton, clothed in forest.
So speaking, the goddess scattered the mist, and the land appeared;
and much-enduring godlike Odysseus rejoiced,
glad for his land, and he kissed the life-giving earth.
At once he prayed to the nymphs, raising his hands:
Nymphs, Naiads, daughters of Zeus, I never
thought I would see you; and now with gentle prayers
greetings; and we shall give gifts too, as before,
if the daughter of Zeus, driver of the spoil, willingly allows me
both to live myself and to raise up my dear son.
Then the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:
Take heart, let not these things weigh on your mind.
But the goods, let us put them at once now
in the recess of the wondrous cave, so that these may stay safe for you;
and let us ourselves consider how things may be far the best.
So speaking, the goddess went into the shadowy cave,
searching out the hiding places through the cave; and Odysseus
carried all things near, gold and unyielding bronze
and well-made clothing, which the Phaeacians gave him.
And he stowed them well, and set a stone upon the doors,
Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis.
And the two, sitting beside the foot of the sacred olive,
planned destruction for the overbearing suitors.
And the goddess bright-eyed Athena began the speaking:
Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,
consider how you will lay hands on the shameless suitors,
who now for three years have lorded it in your hall,
wooing your godlike wife and offering bride-gifts;
and she, ever mourning in her heart for your return,
holds hope out to all and promises each man,
sending messages, but her mind longs for other things.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her:
Alas, truly I was about to perish in my halls
by the evil fate of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,
if you, goddess, had not told me each thing as is fitting.
But come, weave counsel, how I may take vengeance on them;
and stand beside me yourself, putting in me much-daring might,
such as when we loosed the shining battlements of Troy.
If, thus eager, you would stand by me, bright-eyed one,
then I would fight even against three hundred men
with you, honoured goddess, when you readily help me.
Then the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:
Indeed I shall be present with you, and you will not escape my notice,
when we busy ourselves with these things; and I think that some,
both with blood and brains, shall defile the boundless floor
of the suitors, who devour your livelihood.
But come, I will make you unrecognized by all mortals;
I will shrivel the fair skin on your supple limbs,
and destroy the yellow hair from your head, and put about you a garment
which a man would loathe to see one wearing,
and I will dim your eyes, formerly so very beautiful,
so that you may appear unseemly to all the suitors
and to your wife and child, whom you left in the halls.
And do you first of all go to the swineherd,
who is the guardian of your pigs, and is likewise kindly disposed to you,
and loves your son and prudent Penelope.
You will find him sitting among the swine; and they feed
beside the rock of Corax and the spring Arethusa,
eating the acorn that pleases them and drinking the dark water,
which nourishes the rich fat of the swine.
Stay there and, sitting beside him, ask him all things,
while I go to Sparta of fair women
to call Telemachus, your dear son, Odysseus;
who has gone to spacious Lacedaemon, to Menelaus,
to ask news of you, if perhaps you are still alive.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her:
Why then did you not tell him, you who know all things in your mind?
Was it so that he too might wander and suffer griefs
over the barren sea? And others devour his substance?
Then the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:
Let him not be too much in your thoughts.
I myself was escorting him, so that he might win good fame
by going there; and he has no toil, but sits at ease
in the house of the son of Atreus, and countless gifts lie beside him.
Truly the young men lie in wait for him with a black ship,
eager to kill him before he reaches his native land;
but I do not think that will happen before the earth holds some one
of the suitors, who devour your livelihood.
So speaking, Athena touched him with her wand.
She shrivelled the fair skin on his supple limbs,
and destroyed the yellow hair from his head, and about all his limbs
she put the skin of an old man,
and dimmed his eyes, formerly so very beautiful;
and she cast about him another evil rag and a tunic,
torn and filthy, begrimed with evil smoke;
and she clothed him in the great hide of a swift deer,
bare; and she gave him a staff and an unseemly beggar's bag,
much torn; and in it was a twisted strap for a carrying cord.
So the two, having thus planned, parted. And she then
went to godlike Lacedaemon after the son of Odysseus.

### Book 14

But he went up from the harbor by the rough track
through the wooded country, over the heights, where Athena
had shown him the godlike swineherd, who of his livelihood most
cared for the slaves whom godlike Odysseus had won.
He found him sitting in the porch, where his courtyard
had been built high, in a place seen from all around,
fair and great, with a running space about it; which the swineherd
had built himself for the pigs while his master was away,
apart from the mistress and old Laertes,
with quarried stones, and he fenced it about with wild pear.
Outside he drove stakes through and through on either side,
thick and close-set, splitting the dark oak in two;
and inside the courtyard he made twelve sties
near to one another, beds for the swine; and in each
fifty swine that sleep on the ground were penned,
sows with young; but the boars slept outside,
far fewer; for the godlike suitors kept wearing them down by eating,
since the swineherd kept sending out
always the best of all the well-fed fatlings;
and these were three hundred and sixty.
And beside them four dogs, like wild beasts, always slept,
four, which the swineherd, leader of men, had reared.
He himself was fitting sandals about his feet,
cutting a well-colored oxhide; and the others
had gone each his own way with the gathered swine,
the three of them; the fourth he had sent off to the city
to bring a pig to the overbearing suitors, under compulsion,
so that when they had sacrificed they might glut their hearts with meat.
Suddenly the baying dogs caught sight of Odysseus.
They ran at him yelping; but Odysseus
sank down with presence of mind, and the staff fell from his hand.
There beside his own steading he might have suffered unseemly pain;
but the swineherd quickly, with swift feet, rushing after him,
hurried through the porch, and the hide fell from his hand.
He shouted at the dogs and drove them each a different way
with a shower of stones; and he spoke to his master:
Old man, the dogs nearly tore you apart
in a moment, and you would have poured reproach upon me.
And the gods have given me other griefs and groans besides;
for mourning and grieving for my godlike master
I sit here, and I fatten fat pigs for others
to eat; but he, longing somewhere for food,
wanders among the lands and cities of men of other speech,
if perhaps he still lives and sees the light of the sun.
But come, old man, let us go to the hut, so that you yourself,
when you have glutted your heart with food and wine,
may tell me where you are from and how many sorrows you have endured.
So speaking, the godlike swineherd led the way to the hut,
and brought him in and seated him, and spread beneath him shaggy brushwood,
and spread over it the hide of a shaggy wild goat,
a bed for him there, big and hairy. And Odysseus rejoiced
that he received him so, and spoke a word aloud and addressed him:
May Zeus give you, stranger, and the other immortal gods
whatever you most desire, since you received me with a ready heart.
Then answering him you spoke, Eumaeus swineherd:
Stranger, it is not lawful for me, not even if a worse man than you came,
to dishonor a stranger; for all strangers and beggars
are from Zeus; and the gift is small yet dear
when it comes from us; for that is the way of slaves
who always live in fear, when young masters hold power
over them. For the gods have bound up his homecoming,
who would have loved me kindly and given me possessions,
a house and a plot of land and a much-courted wife,
such things as a kind master gives to a slave of his
who has toiled much for him, and a god increases his work,
just as this work is increased for me, on which I abide.
So my master would have greatly helped me, if he had grown old here;
but he perished — and would that the race of Helen had perished utterly,
since she loosened the knees of many men;
for he too went for the sake of Agamemnon's honor
to Ilios of the good foals, to fight with the Trojans.
So speaking he quickly girded his tunic with a belt,
and went to the sties, where the herds of swine were penned.
From there he took and brought two, and sacrificed both,
and singed them and cut them up and pierced them on spits.
And when he had roasted them all, he brought them and set them before Odysseus
hot, on the spits themselves; and he sprinkled white barley over them;
and in an ivy-wood bowl he mixed honey-sweet wine,
and he himself sat down opposite him, and urged him on and spoke:
Eat now, stranger, what is at hand for slaves,
young pork; but the fat pigs the suitors eat,
with no thought of retribution in their hearts, nor any pity.
The blessed gods do not love reckless deeds,
but they honor justice and the righteous deeds of men.
And even hostile and lawless men, who over the land
of others raid, and Zeus grants them plunder,
and they fill their ships and set out to return home,
even on them a strong fear of retribution falls in their hearts.
But these men know something — they have heard some voice of a god,
of that man's wretched destruction — since they do not wish to court her
as is right, nor to go back to their own homes, but at their ease
they devour his possessions with violence, and there is no sparing.
For as many nights and days as come from Zeus,
they never sacrifice one victim, or two, I think;
and they waste the wine, drawing it off with violence.
For his livelihood was beyond telling; no one
of the hero-men had so much, neither on the dark mainland
nor in Ithaca itself; not even twenty men together
have such wealth; and I will recount it to you.
Twelve herds on the mainland; as many flocks of sheep,
as many droves of swine, as many broad herds of goats
are grazed by strangers and by his own herdsmen.
And here eleven broad herds of goats, all of them,
are grazed at the far edge, and good men watch over them.
Of these each man brings in a beast every day,
whichever of the well-fed goats seems the best.
But I guard and watch over these swine,
and choosing well I send off the best of the pigs for them.
So he spoke, and Odysseus ate the meat and drank the wine
greedily and in silence, and he was sowing evils for the suitors.
But when he had dined and fitted his heart with food,
he filled and gave him the cup from which he himself drank,
full of wine; and he took it, and rejoiced in his heart,
and speaking to him he addressed him with winged words:
My friend, who then bought you with his own possessions,
so very rich and powerful as you say?
And you say he perished for the sake of Agamemnon's honor.
Tell me, in case I might somewhere know such a man.
For Zeus surely knows this, and the other immortal gods,
whether I might report having seen him; for I have wandered over many lands.
Then the swineherd answered him, leader of men:
Old man, no wandering man who came
with news would ever persuade his wife and dear son,
but vagabond men, in need of a living, lie
at random, and have no wish to tell the truth.
And whoever comes as a vagabond to the land of Ithaca,
he goes to my mistress and babbles deceitful things;
and she, welcoming him well, loves him and questions him on every point,
and as she mourns tears fall from her eyelids,
as is the way of a woman, when her husband has perished elsewhere.
Quickly you too, old man, could fashion a tale,
if someone would give you a cloak and tunic and clothing.
But his dogs and swift birds are already about to
tear the hide from his bones, and his spirit has left him;
or the fish ate him in the wine-dark sea, and his bones
lie on the mainland wrapped in deep sand.
So he has perished there, and sorrows for his friends
for all, and most of all for me, have been made ready; for no other
so gentle a master shall I find, wherever I go,
not even if I come again to the house of my father and mother,
where I was first born and they themselves raised me.
And I no longer mourn for them so much, though I long
to see them with my eyes while I am in my own land;
but longing for the departed Odysseus seizes me.
Him, stranger, even in his absence I am ashamed
to name; for he loved me exceedingly and cared for me in his heart;
but I call him my dear friend even though he is far away.
Then much-enduring godlike Odysseus spoke to him:
My friend, since you utterly refuse, and no longer say
that he will come, and your heart is always distrustful;
but I will not speak idly, but with an oath,
that Odysseus is returning; and let there be a reward for my good news
at once, when that man comes to his own house;
that you clothe me in cloak and tunic, good clothing;
but before that, though I need it much, I would take nothing.
For that man is as hateful to me as the gates of Hades,
who, yielding to poverty, babbles deceitful things.
Let Zeus know it now, first of the gods, and the table of hospitality,
and the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have come to;
truly all these things shall be accomplished as I say.
In this very year Odysseus will come here.
As this month wanes and the next begins,
he will return home, and he will punish whoever
here dishonors his wife and his shining son.
Then answering him you spoke, Eumaeus swineherd:
Old man, I will not pay this reward for good news,
nor will Odysseus ever come home; but be at ease,
drink, and let us think of other things, and do not
remind me of these things; for my heart in my breast
grieves whenever someone mentions my honored master.
But let us leave the oath aside, and may Odysseus
come as I wish him to, and Penelope,
and old Laertes and godlike Telemachus.
Now again I mourn for the boy whom Odysseus begot,
Telemachus; when the gods had raised him like a sapling,
and I said he would be in no way worse among men
than his own dear father, wondrous in build and in looks,
some one of the immortals has harmed the mind within him,
or some man; and he went to hear news of his father
to holy Pylos; and the lordly suitors
lie in ambush for him as he comes home, so that the race
of godlike Arceisius may perish nameless out of Ithaca.
But let us leave that matter, whether he is caught
or escapes, and the son of Cronos holds his hand over him.
But come, old man, tell me your own sorrows
and tell me this truly, so that I may know it well:
Who of men are you, and from where? Where is your city and your parents?
On what kind of ship did you come? How did the sailors
bring you to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be?
For I do not think you came here on foot.
Then answering him spoke crafty Odysseus:
Therefore I will tell you this quite exactly.
Would that we two had food for a while
and sweet wine, while we sit inside the hut,
feasting in silence, and others went about their work;
then easily, even for a whole year,
I would not finish telling the sorrows of my heart,
all the many things I have suffered by the will of the gods.
I boast that I am by birth from broad Crete,
the son of a rich man; and many other sons
were raised and born in his hall,
legitimate, from his wife; but a bought mother bore me,
a concubine; but he honored me equally with his true-born sons,
Castor son of Hylax, whose son I claim to be,
who then among the Cretans was honored like a god by the people
for his happiness and his wealth and his glorious sons.
But the fates of death came and bore him away
to the house of Hades; and his high-hearted sons
divided the livelihood and cast lots for it,
and they gave me very little and assigned me a house.
And I married a wife from men of many possessions
because of my own merit, since I was no worthless man
nor one to shun war; but now all that has left me —
yet even so, I think that looking at the stubble
you can recognize it; for great misery holds me.
Truly Ares and Athena gave me courage
and the power to break men through; when I chose the best men
to go into ambush, sowing evils for the enemy,
never did my proud heart foresee death for me,
but leaping far the first I would take with my spear
whichever of the enemy gave way to me in running.
Such was I in war; and work was not dear to me,
nor housekeeping, which raises glorious children,
but always ships with oars were dear to me,
and wars, and well-polished spears and arrows,
grim things, which are chilling to other men.
But those things were dear to me which some god put in my heart;
for one man takes pleasure in one kind of work, another in another.
For before the sons of the Achaeans set foot on Troy
nine times I led men and swift-sailing ships
against foreign men, and it went very well with me.
From these I chose out what pleased me, and much besides
I got by lot; and quickly my house grew, and thereafter
I was both feared and respected among the Cretans.
But when Zeus the wide-thundering devised that hateful journey
which loosened the knees of many men,
then they ordered me and famous Idomeneus
to lead the ships to Ilios; and there was no way
to refuse, for the people's hard voice held us.
There for nine years we sons of the Achaeans fought,
and in the tenth, when we had sacked the city of Priam, we went
home with our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans.
But for wretched me Zeus the counselor planned evils;
for only one month I stayed, delighting in my children
and my wedded wife and my possessions; but then
my heart urged me to sail to Egypt,
having fitted out ships well with godlike comrades.
Nine ships I fitted out, and the people gathered quickly.
Six days then my trusty comrades
feasted; and I provided many victims
to sacrifice to the gods and to prepare a feast for themselves.
On the seventh we embarked, and from broad Crete
we sailed with a fair strong north wind,
easily, as if downstream; and none of my ships
was harmed, but unharmed and free of sickness
we sat, and wind and helmsmen steered them.
On the fifth day we reached Egypt of the fair river,
and I anchored my curved ships in the Egyptian river.
There I ordered my trusty comrades
to stay there by the ships and to guard them,
and I sent lookouts to go to the watch-places;
but they, yielding to violence, following their own fury,
quickly began to plunder the very beautiful fields of the Egyptian men,
and carried off the women and the infant children,
and killed the men; and quickly the war-cry reached the city.
And they, hearing the shout at the appearing of dawn,
came; and the whole plain was filled with foot and horse
and the flash of bronze; and among them Zeus who delights in thunder
cast a cowardly rout on my comrades, and no one dared
stand and face them; for evils stood about on every side.
There they killed many of us with sharp bronze,
and led others away alive, to work for them by force.
But Zeus himself put this thought in my heart —
and would that I had died and met my fate
there in Egypt; for yet another sorrow awaited me —
at once I took the well-made helmet from my head,
and the shield from my shoulders, and threw the spear out of my hand;
and I went before the king's chariot,
and grasped and kissed his knees; and he saved me and pitied me,
and seated me in his chariot and brought me home as I shed tears.
Truly many rushed at me with ash-wood spears,
longing to kill me — for they were very angry —
but he held them off, dreading the wrath of Zeus
god of strangers, who above all is angry at evil deeds.
There I stayed seven years, and I gathered much
wealth among the Egyptian men; for they all gave to me.
But when the eighth year came around for me,
then a Phoenician man came, one skilled in deceit,
a cheat, who had done much evil to men;
who persuaded me with his wits and took me with him, until we came
to Phoenicia, where his house and his possessions lay.
There I stayed with him for a full year.
But when the months and days were being completed
as the year rolled round again and the seasons came,
he set me on a sea-crossing ship bound for Libya,
planning lies, so that I might carry cargo with him,
and so that he might sell me there and get a vast price.
I followed him onto the ship, though I suspected it, under compulsion.
She ran with a fair strong north wind,
midway over Crete; and Zeus was planning destruction for them.
But when we had left Crete, and no other land
appeared, but only sky and sea,
then the son of Cronos set a dark blue cloud
above the hollow ship, and the sea grew murky beneath it.
And Zeus thundered at once and hurled a thunderbolt at the ship;
and she spun about entirely, struck by the bolt of Zeus,
and was filled with brimstone; and all fell out of the ship.
And they, like crows, about the black ship
were carried by the waves; and the god took away their homecoming.
But Zeus himself, though I had grief in my heart,
put into my hands the irresistible mast of the dark-prowed ship,
so that I might yet escape disaster.
And clinging to it I was carried by the deadly winds.
Nine days I was carried, and on the tenth black night
a great rolling wave brought me near the land of the Thesprotians.
There Pheidon, king of the Thesprotians, took me in,
a hero, without ransom; for his dear son, coming upon me
overcome with cold and weariness, led me to his house,
raising me by the hand, until we came to his father's house;
and he clothed me in cloak and tunic and clothing.
There I heard about Odysseus; for he said
that he had entertained and befriended him as he was going to his own country,
and he showed me the possessions Odysseus had gathered,
bronze and gold and much-wrought iron.
And he might still feed another to the tenth generation;
so many treasures of the king lay in his halls.
And he said he had gone to Dodona, so that from the god's
high-leafed oak he might hear the counsel of Zeus,
how he should return to the rich land of Ithaca
after being away so long, openly or in secret.
And he swore to me myself, pouring a libation in his house,
that a ship was drawn down and comrades were ready,
who would send him to his own dear country.
But he sent me away first; for a ship happened to be coming
of Thesprotian men to Dulichium rich in wheat.
There he told them to send me to King Acastus
kindly; but an evil plan pleased their hearts
concerning me, so that I might yet become a complete further grief of misery.
But when the sea-crossing ship had sailed far from land,
at once they were plotting for me a day of slavery.
They stripped off my cloak and tunic and clothing,
and threw around me another wretched rag and a tunic,
torn ones, which you yourself see with your own eyes;
and in the evening they came to the land of clear-seen Ithaca.
There they bound me in the well-benched ship
firmly with a well-twisted rope, and they themselves, going ashore,
hurriedly took their dinner beside the shore of the sea.
But the gods themselves loosened the bond for me
easily; and wrapping the rag down over my head,
I slid down the smooth keel-piece and put my chest to the sea,
and then I rowed with both my hands,
swimming, and very quickly I was outside and away from those men.
There I climbed up where there was a thicket of blossoming wood,
and lay crouched down. And they, groaning greatly,
went to and fro; but since it did not seem better for them
to seek further, they went back again
onto the hollow ship; but the gods themselves hid me
easily, and brought me and set me at the steading
of a man who understands such things; for it was still my fate to live.
Then answering him you spoke, Eumaeus swineherd:
Ah, wretched of strangers, you have greatly stirred my heart
by telling each of these things, all you have suffered and wandered.
But I do not think these things are in order, nor will you persuade me
by speaking about Odysseus; why must you, being such a man,
lie to no purpose? And I myself know well
the homecoming of my master, how he was hateful to all the gods
utterly, since the Trojans did not kill him
nor he in the hands of his friends, when he had wound up the war.
Then the Panachaeans would have made him a tomb,
and he would have won great glory for his son afterwards;
but now the harpies snatched him away without glory.
But I stay apart with the swine; and I do not even go to the city,
unless somewhere wise Penelope
urges me to come, when news comes from somewhere.
But they sit beside her and ask about each thing,
both those who grieve for the master long gone,
and those who rejoice, eating up his livelihood unpunished;
but it is not dear to me to inquire and ask,
since the time an Aetolian man deceived me with a story,
who, having killed a man, had wandered over much land,
and came to my house; and I welcomed him warmly.
And he said he had seen him among the Cretans at Idomeneus' side,
repairing the ships which the storms had shattered for him;
and he said he would come either in summer or at harvest,
bringing much wealth, with godlike comrades.
And you, old man of many sorrows, since a god brought you to me,
do not gratify me with lies nor charm me at all;
for it is not for that reason that I will respect or love you,
but because I fear Zeus god of strangers and pity you yourself.
Then answering him spoke crafty Odysseus:
Truly your heart in your breast is very distrustful,
such that even when I swear I have not moved you nor persuaded you.
But come now, let us make a compact; and hereafter
let the gods who hold Olympus be witnesses for us both.
If your master returns to this house,
you shall clothe me in cloak and tunic and send me
to go to Dulichium, where it was dear to my heart;
but if your master does not come as I say,
then set your slaves on me and throw me from a great cliff,
so that another beggar too may avoid deceiving.
Then answering him the godlike swineherd addressed him:
Stranger, then good repute and virtue would be mine
among men, both now and hereafter,
if I, after bringing you to my hut and giving you hospitality,
then killed you and took your dear life;
then I would gladly pray to Zeus son of Cronos.
But now it is time for dinner; let my comrades quickly
be here, so that in the hut we may prepare a tasty dinner.
So they spoke such things to one another,
and the swine came near, and the men, the swineherds.
These they penned to sleep in their accustomed places,
and an unspeakable clamor arose from the swine being stabled;
and the godlike swineherd called out to his comrades:
Bring the best of the swine, so that I may sacrifice it for the stranger
from a far country; and we ourselves will profit, who have long
endured suffering for the sake of the white-tusked swine;
and others eat up our labor unpunished.
So speaking he split wood with the pitiless bronze,
and they brought in a pig, very fat, five years old.
Then they stood it at the hearth; and the swineherd
did not forget the immortals; for he had good sense;
but beginning the offering, he threw hairs from the head into the fire,
of the white-tusked pig, and prayed to all the gods
that Odysseus the wise might return to his own home.
He raised and struck it with a billet of oak which he had left lying;
and its life left it. And they cut its throat and singed it;
quickly they cut it up; and the swineherd began to set aside the raw portions,
beginning with all the limbs, onto the rich fat,
and sprinkling them with barley meal he threw them in the fire,
and they cut up the rest and pierced them on spits,
and roasted them carefully and drew them all off,
and threw them together onto the platters; and the swineherd
stood up to carve; for he knew what was right in his heart.
And he divided it all into seven portions as he carved;
one portion he set apart for the nymphs and for Hermes, son of Maia,
with a prayer, and the others he gave to each man;
and he honored Odysseus with the continuous chine
of the white-tusked pig, and gladdened the heart of his master;
and speaking to him crafty Odysseus said:
May you be as dear to father Zeus, Eumaeus,
as you are to me, since you honor me, such as I am, with good things.
Then answering him you spoke, Eumaeus swineherd:
Eat, strange stranger, and take pleasure in these things,
such as are at hand; a god will give one thing and leave another,
whatever he wishes in his heart; for he can do all things.
So he spoke, and offered first-fruits to the ever-living gods,
and when he had poured the flaming wine, he put it in the hands
of Odysseus the sacker of cities; and he sat down beside his own portion.
And Mesaulius served them bread, whom the swineherd
had acquired himself alone while his master was away,
apart from the mistress and old Laertes;
he had bought him from the Taphians with his own goods.
And they put their hands to the ready food set before them.
But when they had put away their desire for drink and for food,
Mesaulius took away the bread, and they hurried to bed
glutted with bread and meat.
And a wicked moonless night came on, and Zeus rained
all night long, and the great West Wind blew, always wet.
And Odysseus spoke among them, testing the swineherd,
whether he might somehow take off his own cloak and give it, or urge
another of his comrades, since he cared for him exceedingly:
Hear me now, Eumaeus and all you other comrades,
I will speak a word after a prayer; for wine bids me,
foolish wine, which sets even a wise man to sing,
and makes him laugh softly, and sets him to dance,
and makes him utter a word better left unspoken.
But since I have once cried out, I will not hide it.
Would that I were young again and my strength were firm,
as when we led the ambush we had set beneath Troy.
Odysseus and Menelaus son of Atreus led it,
and I was third leader with them; for they themselves asked me.
But when we came to the city and its steep wall,
we lay around the town, among the thick bushes,
in the reeds and the marsh, crouched under our armor.
And a wicked night came on, when the North Wind fell,
freezing; and over us snow fell like frost,
cold, and ice formed on our shields.
There all the others had cloaks and tunics,
and slept comfortably, wrapped in their shields over their shoulders;
but I, when going, had left my cloak to my comrades
in my foolishness, since I did not think I would freeze anyway,
but followed with only my shield and a shining belt.
But when it was the third watch of the night, and the stars had passed on,
then I spoke to Odysseus, who was near,
nudging him with my elbow; and he answered at once:
Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,
I will no longer be among the living, but the winter
overcomes me; for I have no cloak; some god misled me
to be single-tunicked; and now there is no escape.
So I spoke, and he then held this thought in his mind,
such was he at planning and at fighting;
and speaking in a low voice he said a word to me:
Be silent now, lest some other of the Achaeans hear you.
So he spoke, and resting his head on his elbow he said a word:
Listen, friends; a divine dream came to me in my sleep.
For we have come too far from the ships; but would that someone
would tell Atreus' son Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,
to urge more men to come from the ships.
So he spoke, and then Thoas sprang up, son of Andraemon,
swiftly, and took off his purple cloak,
and went running to the ships; and I, in his clothing,
lay down gladly, and golden-throned Dawn shone.
So now would that I were young and my strength were firm;
then someone in the steading of the swineherds would give me a cloak,
both out of friendship and out of respect for a good man;
but now they dishonor me because I wear wretched clothes.
Then answering him you spoke, Eumaeus swineherd:
Old man, the tale you have told is blameless,
and you have not yet spoken a profitless word beyond what is fitting;
so you will lack neither clothing nor anything else
of the things fitting for a much-suffering suppliant who has come;
for now; but at dawn you will shake out your rags.
For there are not many cloaks or changes of tunics
to wear here, but only one for each man.
But when the dear son of Odysseus comes,
he himself will give you cloak and tunic and clothing,
and will send you wherever your heart and spirit bid you.
So speaking he sprang up, and set for him near the fire
a bed, and threw over it hides of sheep and of goats.
There Odysseus lay down; and he threw over him a cloak
thick and large, which he kept ready as a change,
to wear whenever a terrible storm arose.
So Odysseus slept there, and beside him
the young men slept; but it did not please the swineherd
to sleep there, away from the swine,
but he went outside and armed himself; and Odysseus rejoiced
that he cared for his livelihood though he was far away.
First he slung a sharp sword about his sturdy shoulders,
and wrapped around him a wind-proof cloak, very thick,
and he took up the fleece of a great well-fed goat,
and took a sharp spear, a defense against dogs and men.
He went to lie down where the white-tusked swine
slept beneath a hollow rock, sheltered from the North Wind.

### Book 15

But she went to spacious Lacedaemon, Pallas Athena,
to remind the glorious son of great-hearted Odysseus
of his homecoming, and to urge him to return.
She found Telemachus and the shining son of Nestor
sleeping in the forecourt of glorious Menelaus,
the son of Nestor, indeed, overcome by soft sleep;
but sweet sleep did not hold Telemachus; in his heart
through the immortal night the cares for his father woke him.
Standing near, bright-eyed Athena spoke to him:
Telemachus, no longer is it well to wander far from your house,
leaving your possessions and such men in your halls
so overbearing; lest they devour all your goods
dividing them among themselves, and you come home on a fruitless journey.
But urge good at the war-cry Menelaus quickly
to send you, so that you may still find your blameless mother at home.
For already her father and brothers bid her
marry Eurymachus; for he surpasses all
the suitors with gifts, and has increased his bridal presents;
lest, against your will, some possession be carried from your halls.
For you know what manner of spirit is in a woman's breast;
she wishes to enrich the house of him she weds,
but of her former children and her beloved wedded husband
who has died, she no longer remembers nor inquires.
But do you go home and entrust each matter
to whichever of the maids seems best to you,
until the gods reveal to you a glorious bride.
And another word I will speak to you; lay it to heart.
The best of the suitors lie in wait for you deliberately
in the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos,
eager to kill you before you reach your native land.
But that I do not think; rather, the earth will first hold
some of the suitor men, who devour your livelihood.
But keep your well-built ship far from the islands,
and sail alike by night; and one of the immortals will send a fair wind behind you,
whoever of the deathless ones guards and protects you.
But when you reach the first shore of Ithaca,
send the ship and all your comrades to the city,
but yourself go first of all to the swineherd,
who is keeper of your swine, and is kindly minded toward you.
There spend the night; and send him into the city
to carry the message to wise Penelope,
that you are safe and have come back from Pylos.
So she spoke and departed to steep Olympus,
but he woke the son of Nestor from sweet sleep,
stirring him with his foot, and spoke a word to him:
Wake, Pisistratus, son of Nestor; bring the single-hoofed horses
and yoke them beneath the chariot, so that we may set out on our way.
Then Pisistratus, son of Nestor, answered him:
Telemachus, there is no way, eager as we are for the journey,
to drive through the murky night; soon dawn will come.
But wait until the hero, son of Atreus, brings gifts and sets them in the chariot,
Menelaus, famed for the spear,
and with gentle words speaks kindly and sends you on your way.
For a guest remembers all his days
the man who was his host, if he shows him friendship.
So he spoke, and straightway golden-throned Dawn came.
And good at the war-cry Menelaus came near them,
rising from his bed, beside fair-haired Helen.
When the dear son of Odysseus noticed him,
hastening, he drew a shining tunic about his skin,
and cast a great cloak over his sturdy shoulders,
the hero, and went out, and standing beside him spoke
Telemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus:
Menelaus, son of Atreus, nurtured by Zeus, leader of hosts,
send me now to my dear native land;
for my heart already longs to reach home.
Then good at the war-cry Menelaus answered him:
Telemachus, I will not hold you here a long time
when you long for home; and I blame any other man too
who is a host, if he loves a guest exceedingly
and hates him exceedingly; better are all things in due measure.
It is an equal wrong, whether one urges a guest to go who does not wish it,
or holds back one who is eager.
One must love a guest while present, and send him on when he wishes.
But wait until I bring gifts and set them in the chariot,
fair ones, and you see them with your eyes, and I tell the women
to prepare a meal in the halls, with plenty there within.
Both glory and splendor and profit it is
to journey over the wide boundless earth after dining.
But if you wish to turn aside through Hellas and midmost Argos,
so that I myself may go with you, and yoke the horses for you,
and guide you to the cities of men; no one will send us
away empty, but each will give us something to carry off,
either some well-bronzed tripod or a cauldron,
or two mules, or a golden cup.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Menelaus, son of Atreus, nurtured by Zeus, leader of hosts,
I wish now to go to my own home; for I left no
guardian behind over my possessions when I set out;
lest, seeking my godlike father, I myself perish,
or some good treasure be lost from my halls.
When good at the war-cry Menelaus heard this,
he straightway ordered his wife and the maids
to prepare a meal in the halls, with plenty there within.
Eteoneus, son of Boethous, came near him,
rising from his bed, for he lived not far from him;
good at the war-cry Menelaus ordered him to light a fire
and roast meat; and he did not disobey when he heard.
And he himself went down into the fragrant storeroom,
not alone, but Helen and Megapenthes went with him.
But when they came where the treasures lay,
the son of Atreus took a two-handled cup,
and ordered his son Megapenthes to carry a mixing bowl
of silver; and Helen stood beside the chests,
where were the richly embroidered robes that she herself had made.
Lifting one of them, Helen, shining among women, carried it,
the one that was fairest in embroidery and largest,
and it shone like a star; it lay lowest of the others.
They went forward through the house until they came
to Telemachus; and fair-haired Menelaus spoke to him:
Telemachus, as for your return, as your heart desires it,
so may Zeus fulfill it, loud-thundering husband of Hera.
And of the gifts, all the treasures that lie in my house,
I will give the one that is fairest and most honored.
I will give you a well-wrought mixing bowl; it is all of silver,
and its lips are inlaid with gold,
the work of Hephaestus; the shining hero gave it to me,
king of the Sidonians, when his house sheltered me
there as I journeyed home; and I wish to give it to you.
So speaking, he placed in his hand the two-handled cup,
the hero son of Atreus; and mighty Megapenthes brought and set
the shining mixing bowl before him,
of silver; and fair-cheeked Helen stood beside him
holding the robe in her hands, and spoke a word and named him:
This gift I too give you, dear child,
a remembrance of Helen's hands, for the hour of your much-desired marriage,
for your wife to wear; until then, let it lie in the hall
beside your dear mother. And may you come rejoicing
to your well-built house and your native land.
So she spoke and placed it in his hands, and he received it rejoicing.
And the hero Pisistratus placed these things in the basket
having received them, and marveled at them all in his heart;
and fair-haired Menelaus led them to the house.
Then they sat down on the couches and the chairs.
A handmaid brought water for washing and poured it from a pitcher,
a fair golden one, over a silver basin,
for them to wash; and she set beside them a polished table.
And the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread;
putting many foods before them, giving freely of what was there;
and the son of Boethous carved the meat and distributed the portions;
and the son of glorious Menelaus poured the wine.
And they put forth their hands to the ready food set before them.
But when they had put away the desire for drink and food,
then Telemachus and the shining son of Nestor
yoked the horses and mounted the inlaid chariot,
and drove out through the gateway and the echoing portico.
And fair-haired Menelaus, son of Atreus, followed them,
holding in his right hand honey-hearted wine,
in a golden cup, so that they might pour a libation and go.
He stood before the horses and spoke, greeting them:
Farewell, young men, and to Nestor, shepherd of hosts,
give my word; for he was as kind to me as a father,
while we sons of the Achaeans warred in Troy.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Yes indeed, nurtured by Zeus, all this as you say
we will recount when we come to him; and would that I,
returning to Ithaca and finding Odysseus in his house,
might tell him how I come from you having met with all friendship
and bring many good treasures.
As he spoke, a bird flew on the right,
an eagle carrying in its talons a huge white goose,
a tame one from the yard; and the men and women followed shouting,
and coming near them
it swooped to the right before the horses; and they, seeing it,
rejoiced, and the spirit in all their breasts was warmed.
And Pisistratus, son of Nestor, began to speak among them:
Consider, Menelaus, nurtured by Zeus, leader of hosts,
whether a god has shown this sign to us two or to you yourself.
So he spoke, and Menelaus, dear to Ares, pondered
how he might answer him fittingly, thinking it over.
But long-robed Helen spoke first and answered him:
Hear me; and I will prophesy, as the immortals put it in my heart
and as I think it will be fulfilled.
As this eagle snatched the goose that was reared in the house,
coming from the mountain, where is his race and his birth,
so Odysseus, having suffered many evils and wandered much,
will come home and take vengeance; or even now
he is at home, and is planting evil for all the suitors.
Then wise Telemachus answered her:
So may Zeus bring it about, loud-thundering husband of Hera;
then I would pray to you even there as to a god.
He spoke, and laid the whip on the horses; and they very swiftly
rushed eagerly through the city toward the plain.
All day long they shook the yoke they held about them.
The sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;
and they came to Pherae, to the house of Diocles,
son of Ortilochus, whom the Alpheus fathered.
There they spent the night, and he set guest-gifts before them.
When early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
they yoked the horses and mounted the inlaid chariot,
and drove out through the gateway and the echoing portico;
he struck them to drive, and the two flew not unwillingly.
And soon they reached the steep citadel of Pylos;
and then Telemachus spoke to the son of Nestor:
Son of Nestor, how would you promise me and fulfill
my word? For we boast to be guest-friends continually
from the friendship of our fathers, and we are of like age;
and this journey will bring us even more to one mind.
Do not drive past the ship with me, nurtured by Zeus, but leave me here,
lest the old man hold me back against my will in his house,
eager to show me love; but I must come home sooner.
So he spoke, and the son of Nestor considered in his heart
how he might promise and fulfill it fittingly.
And as he thought, it seemed to him better
to turn the horses toward the swift ship and the shore of the sea,
and at the ship's stern he unloaded the beautiful gifts,
clothing and gold, which Menelaus had given him;
and urging him on he spoke winged words:
Go aboard now in haste and order all your comrades,
before I reach home and tell the old man.
For I know this well in my mind and heart:
so violent is his spirit, he will not let you go,
but he will come here himself to call you, and I say he will not
go back empty; for he will be very angry indeed.
So speaking, he drove the fair-maned horses
back to the city of the Pylians, and quickly reached the house.
And Telemachus urged on his comrades and ordered them:
Arrange the gear, comrades, in the black ship,
and let us go aboard ourselves, so that we may set out on our way.
So he spoke, and they listened well and obeyed,
and quickly went aboard and sat at the benches.
He busied himself with these things and prayed, and sacrificed to Athena
beside the ship's stern; and near him came a man
from a far country, fleeing from Argos after killing a man,
a seer; and by birth he was a descendant of Melampus,
who once in time past dwelt in Pylos, mother of flocks,
wealthy, dwelling in a house far surpassing the Pylians';
but then he came to the land of other men, fleeing his homeland
and great-hearted Neleus, most illustrious of living men,
who kept much of his wealth for a full year
by force. But he meanwhile, in the halls of Phylacus,
was bound in painful bonds, suffering cruel pains
because of the daughter of Neleus and a heavy calamity,
which the dread Fury, the goddess, laid upon his mind.
But he escaped death and drove the loud-bellowing cattle
to Pylos from Phylace, and took vengeance for the shameful deed
on godlike Neleus, and brought the woman as wife to his brother's
house. And he came to the land of other men,
to horse-pasturing Argos; for there it was fated for him
to dwell, ruling over many Argives.
There he married a wife and built a high-roofed house,
and begot Antiphates and Mantius, two mighty sons.
Antiphates begot great-hearted Oicles,
and Oicles begot Amphiaraus, rouser of hosts,
whom aegis-bearing Zeus and Apollo loved with all their heart
in every kind of friendship; he did not reach the threshold of old age,
but perished in Thebes because of a woman's gifts.
His sons were Alcmaeon and Amphilochus.
Mantius in turn begot Polypheides and Cleitus;
but golden-throned Dawn snatched Cleitus away
because of his beauty, that he might be among the immortals;
and Apollo made haughty Polypheides a seer,
by far the best of mortals, when Amphiaraus died;
who moved away to Hyperesia in anger at his father,
and there, dwelling, he prophesied for all mortals.
His son came there, and his name was Theoclymenus,
who then stood near Telemachus; and he found him
pouring libations and praying beside the swift black ship,
and speaking, he addressed him with winged words:
Dear friend, since I find you sacrificing in this place,
I beseech you by the offerings and the god, and then
by your own head and the comrades who follow you,
tell me truly when I ask, and do not conceal it:
Who are you among men, and from where? Where is your city and your parents?
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Then I will tell you, stranger, quite exactly.
By birth I am from Ithaca, and my father is Odysseus,
if he ever was; but now he has perished by a wretched doom.
Therefore I now took comrades and a black ship
and came to ask about my father, long gone away.
Then godlike Theoclymenus spoke to him:
So I too am from my homeland, having killed a man
of my own kin; and many brothers and kinsmen
are throughout horse-pasturing Argos, and they have great power among the Achaeans.
Avoiding death and black doom from them
I am a fugitive, since it is my fate to wander among men.
But take me on your ship, since I have fled to you as a suppliant,
lest they kill me; for I think they are pursuing me.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
No indeed, I will not thrust you from my well-balanced ship against your will,
but follow; and there you will be welcomed with whatever we have.
So speaking, he received from him the bronze spear,
and laid it out on the deck of the curved ship;
and he himself went aboard the sea-crossing ship.
Then he sat down at the stern, and beside him
he seated Theoclymenus; and they loosed the stern cables.
And Telemachus urged on his comrades and ordered them
to lay hold of the gear; and they obeyed eagerly.
They raised the pine mast and set it in the hollow mast-box,
and made it fast with the fore-stays,
and hauled up the white sails with well-twisted oxhide ropes.
Bright-eyed Athena sent them a favorable wind,
blowing fiercely through the sky, so that most swiftly
the ship might run through the salt water of the sea.
They passed by Cruni and fair-streamed Chalcis.
The sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;
and the ship came to Pheae, driven on by the wind of Zeus,
and past shining Elis, where the Epeians hold sway.
From there he sped on toward the swift islands,
pondering whether he might escape death or be caught.
Meanwhile in the hut Odysseus and the godlike swineherd
were eating supper; and other men supped beside them.
But when they had put away the desire for drink and food,
Odysseus spoke among them, testing the swineherd,
whether he would still lovingly entertain him and bid him stay
there at his farmstead, or urge him toward the city:
Hear me now, Eumaeus, and all you other comrades;
at dawn I wish to go to the city
to beg, so that I may not wear you and your comrades out.
But advise me well and give me a good guide
who will lead me there; and through the city I myself of necessity
will wander, in case someone offers me a cup and a bit of bread.
And if I go to the house of godlike Odysseus,
I could bring a message to wise Penelope,
and I could mix with the arrogant suitors,
if they would give me a meal, since they have countless dishes.
I could quickly do well among them whatever they wish.
For I will tell you plainly; mark it, and listen to me:
by the grace of Hermes the guide, who to all
men gives grace and glory in their works,
no other mortal could rival me in service,
to pile a fire well and split dry wood,
to carve and roast and pour wine,
the sort of things that lesser men do in service to their betters.
Then, greatly vexed, you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:
Oh, stranger, why is this thought in your mind?
Do you really long to perish right there?
If you wish to go down into the crowd of the suitors,
whose arrogance and violence reach the iron sky,
their attendants are not men like you,
but young men, well dressed in cloaks and tunics,
always sleek about the head and with handsome faces,
who serve them; and well-polished tables
are heavy with bread and meat and wine.
But stay; for no one is vexed at your presence,
neither I nor any other of the comrades I have.
But when the dear son of Odysseus comes,
he will clothe you in cloak and tunic and garments,
and send you wherever your heart and spirit bid you.
Then much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:
Ah, Eumaeus, may you be as dear to father Zeus
as you are to me, since you have stopped my wandering and dreadful misery.
There is nothing worse for mortals than wandering;
but because of the accursed belly men have evil cares,
whenever wandering and misery and pain come upon a man.
But now, since you insist that I stay and bid me wait for him,
come, tell me about the mother of godlike Odysseus
and his father, whom he left when he set out at the threshold of old age,
whether they are still alive under the rays of the sun,
or are already dead and in the halls of Hades.
Then the swineherd, leader of men, answered him:
Then I will tell you, stranger, quite exactly.
Laertes is still alive, and he always prays to Zeus
that his spirit may waste from his limbs in his own halls;
for he grieves terribly for the son who has gone,
and for his wedded wife, a wise woman, who above all
pained him by dying and left him in harsh old age.
And she died of grief for her glorious son,
a wretched death; may no one who is dear to me
and lives here and does me kindness die in that way.
So long as she lived, grieving as she was,
it was dear to me to inquire and ask about her,
because she herself raised me along with long-robed Ctimene,
her noble daughter, the youngest child she bore;
I was raised with her, and she honored me only a little less.
But when we both reached delightful youth,
they gave her then to a man in Same and took countless gifts,
and she, clothing me fairly in cloak and tunic and garments,
and giving me sandals for my feet,
sent me to the fields; and she loved me the more from her heart.
But now I am in need of these things; yet the blessed gods
prosper the work I devote myself to;
from it I have eaten and drunk and given to worthy men.
But from my mistress it is not possible to hear a gentle
word or deed, since evil has fallen on the house,
those arrogant men; and the slaves greatly lack the chance
to speak in the mistress's presence and learn all things
and eat and drink, and then carry something
to the fields, the sort of things that always warm a slave's heart.
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
Alas, how then, while still a small child, Eumaeus the swineherd,
you were driven far from your homeland and your parents.
But come, tell me this and recount it exactly,
whether the broad-streeted city of men was sacked,
in which your father and your honored mother dwelt,
or whether, when you were alone among the sheep or the cattle,
hostile men took you with their ships and sold you,
to this man's house, and he paid a worthy price.
Then the swineherd, leader of men, answered him:
Stranger, since you ask me these things and inquire,
now listen in silence and enjoy yourself, and drink your wine
sitting here. For these nights are endless; there is time to sleep,
and time to listen with pleasure; there is no need for you
to lie down before the hour; too much sleep is a nuisance.
Whichever of the others his heart and spirit bid,
let him go out and sleep; and at dawn when it appears,
let him eat and follow the master's pigs.
But let us two, drinking and feasting in the hut,
take pleasure in each other's wretched sorrows,
remembering them; for a man takes pleasure even in his griefs,
whoever has suffered very much and wandered much.
And this I will tell you, what you ask me and inquire about.
There is an island called Syrie, if perhaps you have heard of it,
above Ortygia, where the sun turns;
it is not very populous, but it is good,
good for grazing, good for flocks, full of wine, rich in wheat.
Hunger never comes on the people, nor is any other
hateful sickness ever upon the wretched mortals;
but when the tribes of men grow old in the city,
silver-bowed Apollo comes with Artemis
and, attacking with his gentle arrows, kills them.
There are two cities, and all things are divided between them;
and over both of them my father was king,
Ctesius, son of Ormenus, like the immortals.
There came Phoenician men, famous for their ships,
greedy traders, bringing countless trinkets in a black ship.
There was a Phoenician woman in my father's house,
tall and beautiful, and skilled in splendid work;
and the Phoenicians, full of tricks, seduced her.
One of them first lay with her beside the hollow ship
in bed and in love, the things that beguile the minds
of women, even if one is good at her work.
Then he asked who she was and from where she had come;
and she at once told him of her father's high-roofed house:
I claim to be from Sidon, rich in bronze,
and I am the daughter of Arybas, abundantly wealthy;
but Taphian raiders seized me
as I was coming from the fields, and they brought me here and sold me
to this man's house; and he paid a worthy price.
Then the man who had lain with her in secret said to her:
Would you now come back home again with us,
so that you may see your father's and mother's high-roofed house
and them too? For they are still alive and are called wealthy.
Then the woman answered him and said:
That could be, sailors, if you would be willing
to bind yourselves by oath to take me home unharmed.
So she spoke, and they all swore as she asked.
But when they had sworn and completed the oath,
the woman spoke among them again and said:
Now keep silent; let none of your comrades speak to me
with words, whether met in the street
or at the spring; lest someone come to the old man's house
and tell him, and he, suspecting, bind me
in painful bonds and plot destruction for you.
But keep the word in mind, and hurry on the price of the goods.
But when the ship is full of goods,
let a message quickly come to me at the house;
for I will bring gold too, whatever comes into my hands;
and I would willingly give other passage-money too.
For I am raising in the halls the son of a good man,
a clever one indeed, who runs about outside with me;
I could bring him onto the ship, and he would fetch you a huge price
wherever you sell him among men of other tongues.
So she spoke and went off to the fine house,
and they, staying there with us a whole year,
trafficked much goods in the hollow ship.
But when the hollow ship was loaded for them to sail,
then they sent a messenger, to tell the woman.
A man skilled in many things came to my father's house
carrying a golden necklace, strung with amber beads.
In the hall the maids and my honored mother
handled it with their hands and looked at it with their eyes,
offering a price; and he nodded to her in silence.
He, having nodded, had gone to the hollow ship,
and she took me by the hand and led me out of the house.
In the forecourt she found both cups and tables
of the feasting men, who were attending my father.
They had gone to the council seat and the assembly of the people,
but she quickly hid three cups in her bosom
and carried them out; and I followed in my witlessness.
The sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;
and we came quickly to the famous harbor,
where the swift ship of the Phoenician men was.
Then they went aboard and sailed the watery paths,
taking us two aboard; and Zeus sent a fair wind.
Six days alike we sailed, nights and days;
but when Zeus, son of Cronos, brought on the seventh day,
then Artemis the arrow-pourer struck the woman,
and she fell with a thud into the bilge, like a sea gull.
And they threw her overboard to become prey for seals and fish;
but I was left with a grieving heart;
and wind and water carried them on and brought them near Ithaca,
where Laertes bought me with his own goods.
That is how I came to see this land with my own eyes.
Then god-born Odysseus answered him and said:
Eumaeus, truly you have stirred the spirit in my heart
by telling me all these things, all the griefs you have suffered in your heart.
But Zeus has set good alongside evil for you,
since after much toil you came to the house of a kind man
who provides you food and drink
kindly, and you live a good life; but I
have come here wandering over many cities of men.
So they spoke such things to one another,
and lay down to sleep for no long time, but only briefly;
for soon fair-throned Dawn came. And the comrades of Telemachus on the land
loosed the sails and took down the mast
quickly, and rowed the ship into the mooring;
they threw out the anchor stones and made the stern cables fast;
and they themselves went out onto the breaking surf of the sea,
and prepared a meal and mixed the flaming wine.
But when they had put away the desire for drink and food,
wise Telemachus began to speak among them:
You now drive the black ship to the city,
but I will go to the fields and the herdsmen;
in the evening I will come down to the city after seeing my farm.
And at dawn I will set out provisions for your journey,
a good feast of meat and sweet wine.
Then godlike Theoclymenus said to him:
Where shall I go, dear child? Whose house shall I come to,
of the men who rule over rocky Ithaca?
Shall I go straight to your mother and your house?
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
In other circumstances I would bid you come
to our house; for there is no lack of hospitality; but for you yourself it is
worse, since I will be away, and my mother
will not see you; for she does not often
appear among the suitors in the house, but apart from them she weaves her web in the upper room.
But I will point out another man for you to go to,
Eurymachus, the shining son of wise Polybus,
whom the Ithacans now look upon as equal to a god;
for he is by far the best man, and he is most eager
to marry my mother and to have the honor of Odysseus.
But Olympian Zeus knows these things, who dwells in the upper air,
whether he will bring a day of evil on them before the marriage.
As he spoke, a bird flew on the right,
a hawk, the swift messenger of Apollo; in its talons
it was plucking a dove, and it shed the feathers to the ground
between the ship and Telemachus himself.
Theoclymenus called him aside from his comrades
and clasped his hand and spoke a word and named him:
Telemachus, that bird did not fly on the right without a god;
for I knew it was an omen when I looked at it face to face.
There is no other family more royal than yours
in the land of Ithaca, but you are always strong.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
If only, stranger, this word were fulfilled;
then you would soon know friendship and many gifts
from me, so that anyone meeting you would call you blessed.
He spoke, and called to Piraeus, his trusty comrade:
Piraeus, son of Clytius, you who above all
my comrades who followed me to Pylos obey me in other things;
now too take this stranger and in your house
entertain him kindly and honor him, until I come.
Then Piraeus, famed for the spear, answered him:
Telemachus, even if you stayed here a long time,
I would care for this man, and he will have no lack of hospitality.
So saying, he went aboard the ship and told his comrades
to go aboard themselves and loose the stern cables.
And they quickly went aboard and sat down at the benches.
And Telemachus bound fair sandals under his feet,
and took a stout spear, sharpened with keen bronze,
from the ship's deck; and they loosed the stern cables.
They pushed off and sailed toward the city, as Telemachus had ordered,
the dear son of godlike Odysseus;
and his feet carried him swiftly striding on until he reached the farmyard,
where the swineherd,
a good man, dwelt, kindly minded toward his masters.

### Book 16

So in the hut Odysseus and the noble swineherd
made ready their breakfast at the rising of dawn, having kindled a fire,
and sent out the herdsmen with the gathered herds of swine.
But the dogs, loud-baying, fawned about Telemachus,
nor barked at him as he came near. And noble Odysseus marked
how the dogs fawned, and the sound of feet came to him.
Straightway he spoke winged words to Eumaeus:
Eumaeus, surely some comrade of yours comes hither,
or some other man well known to you, since the dogs bark not,
but fawn about him; and I hear the thunder of feet beneath.
Not yet was the whole word spoken, when his own dear son
stood in the doorway. Amazed, the swineherd sprang up,
and from his hands fell the vessels wherewith he labored,
as he mixed the fiery wine. And he went to meet his master,
and kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes
and both his hands; and a warm tear fell from him.
As a father with loving heart welcomes his own dear son
who comes in the tenth year from a land afar,
an only son, late-born, for whom he has toiled through many griefs,
so then the noble swineherd kissed godlike Telemachus
all over, clinging close, as one escaped from death;
and lamenting he spoke winged words:
You have come, Telemachus, sweet light. No longer did I think
to see you again, since you went in the ship to Pylos.
But come now, enter, dear child, so that in my heart
I may take delight in gazing on you, newly come from elsewhere.
For you come not often to the field, nor to the herdsmen,
but you abide in the town; so it has pleased your heart,
to behold the baleful throng of the wooing men.
Then Telemachus the wise answered him and said:
So shall it be, good sir; for your sake I am come hither,
that with my eyes I may see you and hear your speech,
whether my mother still waits in the halls for me, or whether already
some other man has wed her, and the bed of Odysseus
lies empty of coverlets, holding foul cobwebs.
Then the swineherd, leader of men, answered him again:
Truly she still waits with an enduring heart
in your halls; and her woeful nights and days ever
waste away, as she sheds her tears.
So he spoke, and took from him the bronze spear;
and he went within and crossed over the stone threshold.
As he came on, his father Odysseus gave way from the seat;
but Telemachus from the other side stayed him and spoke:
Sit, stranger; we shall find us a seat elsewhere
in our own steading; and here is a man to set it out.
So he spoke, and he went back and sat down; and the swineherd
strewed beneath him green brushwood and a fleece above;
there then sat the dear son of Odysseus.
And to them the swineherd set out platters of flesh
roasted, which they had left behind on the day before when they ate,
and eagerly he heaped up bread in baskets,
and in an ivy-wood bowl he mixed the honey-sweet wine;
and he himself sat down facing godlike Odysseus.
And they stretched out their hands to the ready food lying before them.
But when they had put away the desire of drink and of food,
then Telemachus spoke to the noble swineherd:
Father, whence came this stranger to you? And how did sailors
bring him to Ithaca? Who did they boast themselves to be?
For in no wise do I think he came hither on foot.
Answering him, you spoke, Eumaeus the swineherd:
Then verily I will tell you all the truth, my child.
From broad Crete he boasts his lineage; and he says
that he has wandered over many cities of mortals,
roaming; for so some god spun it for him.
And now, escaped from a ship of Thesprotian men,
he has come to my steading, and I will hand him over to you;
do as you will; and he declares himself your suppliant.
Then Telemachus the wise answered him and said:
Eumaeus, surely you have spoken a heart-grieving word.
For how shall I receive this stranger in my house?
I myself am young, and my hands are not yet trusted
to beat off a man when one provokes me first.
And my mother's heart in her breast ponders two ways:
whether she abides here with me and tends the house,
honoring the bed of her husband and the people's voice,
or whether she already follows whoever of the Achaeans is best
and woos her in the halls and offers the most.
But this stranger, since he has come to your house,
I will clothe in cloak and tunic, goodly garments,
and I will give him a two-edged sword and sandals for his feet,
and send him wherever his heart and spirit bid.
But if you wish it, keep him, holding him fast in the steading;
and I will send garments hither and all his food
to eat, so that he wear not you out nor your comrades.
But I would not let him go thither among the suitors;
for they hold outrage beyond all measure.
Lest they mock him, and dread grief be mine.
And hard it is to accomplish anything among more men,
a man even though mighty, since they are far the stronger.
Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:
O friend, since it is right for me too to answer,
truly my dear heart is rent within me as I hear
how you say the suitors devise reckless deeds
in the halls, against your will, though you are such a man.
Tell me, do you yield to them willingly, or do the people
hate you throughout the land, following the voice of some god,
or do you find fault with your brothers, on whom a man
relies when they do battle, even if a great quarrel arises?
Would that I were so young, with the spirit I bear,
either a son of blameless Odysseus, or Odysseus himself.
Then at once let a stranger cut the head from me,
if I did not become a bane to all those men,
coming into the hall of Odysseus, son of Laertes.
But if they should overcome me with their numbers, being one alone,
I would rather, slain amid my own halls,
lie dead, than ever behold these shameful deeds:
strangers roughly handled, and handmaids
dragged shamefully through the fair halls,
and the wine wasted, and the food devoured
in vain, idly, for a work that has no end.
Then Telemachus the wise answered him and said:
Then verily, stranger, I will tell you quite exactly.
No, the whole people is not wrathful with me in hatred,
nor do I find fault with my brothers, on whom a man
relies when they do battle, even if a great quarrel arises.
For thus the son of Cronos made our race to be single:
Laertes only did Arceisius beget as a son,
and Laertes again begot Odysseus only; but Odysseus
begot only me in the halls and left me, and had no joy of me.
Therefore countless foes are now within my house.
For as many as are lords over the islands,
Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus,
and as many as hold sway over rocky Ithaca,
so many woo my mother, and waste my house.
And she neither refuses the hateful marriage, nor is able
to bring it to an end; and they wear away my house
as they feast; and soon they will tear me to pieces too.
But verily these things lie on the knees of the gods.
Father, do you go swiftly, and to wise Penelope
say that I am safe and have come back from Pylos.
But I will wait here; and do you come back hither,
having told her alone; and of the other Achaeans let no one
learn of it; for many devise evils against me.
Answering him, you spoke, Eumaeus the swineherd:
I know, I understand; you bid one who gives heed.
But come, tell me this too and recount it exactly:
shall I go to Laertes as a messenger on that same road,
the unhappy man, who till now, grieving greatly for Odysseus,
used to oversee the work, and among the servants in the house
drank and ate, whenever the spirit in his breast bade him;
but now, ever since you went in the ship to Pylos,
they say he has not eaten and drunk as before,
nor looked to the work, but with groaning and wailing
he sits lamenting, and the flesh wastes from about his bones.
Then Telemachus the wise answered him and said:
Sorer it is; yet let us leave him, grieving though we be.
For if mortals could choose all things for themselves,
we would first choose the day of my father's homecoming.
But do you go back with the message, and do not through the fields
wander after him; but bid the housekeeper
to tell my mother as quickly as may be,
in secret; for she it is who could tell the old man.
So he spoke, and roused the swineherd; and he took sandals in his hands,
bound them beneath his feet, and went to the city. Nor did Athena
fail to mark Eumaeus the swineherd going from the steading,
but she came near; and in form she was like a woman,
beautiful and tall and skilled in glorious handiwork.
She stood at the doorway of the hut, shown to Odysseus;
and Telemachus saw her not face to face nor marked her,
for in no wise do the gods appear manifest to all.
But Odysseus and the dogs saw her, and they barked not,
but with a whimper they fled the other way through the steading.
And she nodded with her brows; and noble Odysseus marked it,
and went out of the hut past the great wall of the courtyard,
and stood before her; and Athena spoke to him:
Zeus-born son of Laertes, much-devising Odysseus,
now at once speak to your son and hide it not,
so that the two of you, devising death and doom for the suitors,
may go to the far-famed city; and I myself
will not be long from you two, eager for the fight.
So she spoke, and touched him with a golden wand, Athena.
First she put about his chest a well-washed cloak
and tunic, and increased his stature and his youth.
And he became dark again of skin, and his jaws were widened,
and dark the beard grew about his chin.
So she, having done this, went back; and Odysseus
went into the hut; and his dear son marvelled at him,
and in fear cast his eyes aside, lest it be a god,
and speaking to him he spoke winged words:
Other than before you appear to me now, stranger,
and you wear other garments, and your skin is no longer the same.
Surely you are some god, one of those who hold the wide heaven.
But be gracious, that we may give you acceptable sacrifices
and wrought golden gifts; and spare us.
Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:
No god am I; why do you liken me to the immortals?
But I am your own father, for whose sake you groan
and suffer many griefs, enduring the violence of men.
So he spoke, and kissed his son, and down his cheeks
he let a tear fall to the ground; before, he ever held it back.
But Telemachus, for he did not yet believe he was his father,
again answered him with words and said:
You are not Odysseus, my father, but some god
bewitches me, so that I may lament and groan the more.
For in no way could a mortal man devise these things
with his own mind, unless a god himself came upon him
and easily, at his will, made him young or old.
For verily just now you were an old man and wore shameful clothes;
but now you are like the gods, who hold the wide heaven.
Answering him, much-devising Odysseus said:
Telemachus, it becomes you not, when your dear father is within,
to wonder overmuch or be amazed;
for no other Odysseus will come hither any more,
but this is I, such as I am, having suffered evils and wandered much;
I have come in the twentieth year to my native land.
And this is the work of Athena, driver of the spoil,
who made me such as she wills; she has the power;
at one time like a beggar, at another again
like a young man wearing goodly garments about his skin.
Easy it is for the gods, who hold the wide heaven,
both to glorify a mortal man and to abase him.
So he spoke, and sat down; and Telemachus,
clinging about his noble father, wept, shedding tears,
and in both of them the desire of wailing arose.
They wept aloud, more thickly than birds,
sea-eagles or vultures of crooked talons, whose nestlings
countrymen have taken away before they could fly;
so they shed a piteous tear beneath their brows.
And the light of the sun would have gone down on them lamenting,
had not Telemachus straightway spoken to his father:
In what manner of ship, dear father, have sailors now brought you
hither to Ithaca? Who did they boast themselves to be?
For in no wise do I think you came hither on foot.
Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:
Then verily I will recount the truth to you, my child.
The Phaeacians brought me, famed for ships, who also bring
other men, whoever comes to them;
and as I slept in their swift ship over the sea they carried me
and set me down in Ithaca, and gave me glorious gifts,
bronze and gold in abundance and woven raiment.
And these lie in the caves by the will of the gods.
And now I am come hither by the counsels of Athena,
so that we may take counsel of slaughter for our foes.
But come, count and recount the suitors to me,
so that I may know how many and what manner of men they are;
and I will ponder it in my blameless heart,
and consider whether we two can hold against them
alone, apart from others, or whether we must seek others too.
Then Telemachus the wise answered him and said:
O father, verily I ever heard of your great fame,
that your hands are warlike and your counsel wise.
But you have spoken far too greatly; amazement holds me; nor may it be
that two men do battle against many and valiant foes.
And of the suitors there is not a sure ten, nor only two,
but far more by far; and soon shall you learn their number here.
From Dulichium come two and fifty
chosen youths, and six serving-men follow with them;
and from Same there are four and twenty men,
and from Zacynthus are twenty youths of the Achaeans,
and from Ithaca itself twelve, all of them the best,
and with them is Medon the herald and a godlike minstrel
and two serving-men, skilled in the carving of feasts.
If we shall meet with all of these within the hall,
take heed lest you pay, when you come, a bitter and dreadful price for violence.
But come, if you can devise some champion of defence,
consider who might defend us two with eager heart.
Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him and said:
Therefore will I speak, and do you mark it and hear me:
and declare whether Athena with father Zeus
shall help us both, or whether I should devise some other defender.
Then prudent Telemachus answered him in turn:
Good indeed are these two defenders whom you name,
though they sit on high amid the clouds; for they have power
over other men and over the immortal gods.
Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him and said:
Truly those two shall not for a long time stand apart
from the mighty battle, when between the suitors and us
in my halls the fury of Ares is decided.
But do you now go, at the appearing of the dawn,
homeward, and mingle with the overbearing suitors;
and the swineherd shall bring me later to the town,
like a wretched beggar and an old man.
And if they dishonor me throughout the house, let your own dear heart
endure it in your breast, while I suffer evil,
even if they drag me by the feet through the house to the door
or strike me with missiles; do you look on and endure.
But indeed you should bid them cease from their folly,
speaking to them with gentle words; yet they will not
be persuaded; for the day of doom stands near them.
And another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:
when Athena of many counsels shall put it in your mind,
I will nod to you with my head, and do you then, marking it,
as many warlike arms as lie in the halls,
take them up and lay them in the recess of the lofty chamber,
all of them; and the suitors with soft words
coax, when they question you in their desire;
say that you set them aside from the smoke, since no longer did they resemble
the like of what Odysseus left behind when he went to Troy,
but they are tarnished, as far as the breath of fire has reached them.
And moreover the son of Cronos put this greater thought in my heart,
lest, being drunken, they stir up strife among you,
and you wound one another and shame the feast
and the wooing; for iron of itself draws on a man.
And for us two alone let two swords and two spears
be left, and two ox-hide shields to take in our hands,
so that we may rush upon them and seize them; and then
Pallas Athena shall bewitch them, and Zeus the counselor.
And another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:
if you are truly mine and of our blood,
let no one then hear that Odysseus is within,
neither let Laertes know it, nor the swineherd,
nor any of the household, nor Penelope herself,
but let you and I alone learn the mind of the women;
and we might also make trial of some of the slave men,
both where one honors us two and fears in his heart,
and where one cares not, and dishonors you though you are such as you are.
Then his glorious son answered him and spoke:
Father, you shall know my heart even hereafter, I think,
for no slackness of mind possesses me;
but I do not think this will be a gain
for us both; and I bid you consider it.
For long will you go about making trial of each man,
going among the works; while they in the halls at ease
devour the goods with violence, and there is no sparing.
But I bid you learn the women,
which of them dishonor you and which are blameless;
but among the men in the farmsteads I would not
have us make trial, but these things to be labored at later,
if you truly know some sign from aegis-bearing Zeus.
So these two spoke such words to one another,
and meanwhile the well-built ship was coming down to Ithaca,
which carried Telemachus from Pylos and all his comrades.
Now when they came within the deep-gulfed harbor,
they drew the black ship up on the mainland,
and the high-spirited attendants carried away their arms,
and straightway they bore the splendid gifts to the house of Clytius.
And they sent a herald to the house of Odysseus,
to tell the message to wise Penelope,
that Telemachus was in the country, and had ordered the ship
to sail back to the city, lest in fear of heart
the noble queen should shed a tender tear.
So the herald and the noble swineherd met together
for the same message's sake, to tell it to the woman.
But when they came to the house of the godlike king,
the herald spoke among the serving-women:
Queen, your dear son has already come home.
And the swineherd, standing near, told Penelope
all that her dear son had bidden him to say.
And when he had told the whole charge,
he went his way to the swine, and left the courts and the hall.
But the suitors were vexed and downcast in heart,
and came out of the hall past the great wall of the court,
and sat them down in front of the doors.
And Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak among them:
Friends, a great deed has been overweeningly accomplished
by Telemachus, this journey; and we said it would not be fulfilled.
But come, let us drag down the best black ship we have,
and gather seafaring rowers, who may most swiftly
tell those men to hasten home.
Not yet was all said, when Amphinomus saw the ship
turning from his place, within the deep-gulfed harbor,
with men furling sails and holding oars in their hands.
And with a sweet laugh he spoke to his comrades:
Let us no longer urge any message; for these men are within.
Either some god told them this, or they themselves saw
the ship passing by, and could not catch it.
So he spoke, and they rose and went to the shore of the sea,
and straightway drew the black ship up on the mainland,
and the high-spirited attendants carried away their arms.
And they themselves went in a body to the assembly, and suffered no other
neither of the young nor of the old to sit among them.
Then Antinous spoke among them, son of Eupeithes:
Alas, how have the gods loosed this man from his misery.
By day we watchers sat on the windy headlands,
ever one after another; and at sunset
never did we spend the night on land, but on the sea
sailing in our swift ship we waited for the bright Dawn,
lying in wait for Telemachus, that we might seize and slay him;
but meanwhile a god brought him home,
and let us here devise for him a woeful destruction,
for Telemachus, and let him not escape us; for I think
that while this man lives these deeds will not be accomplished.
For he himself is skilled in counsel and in mind,
and the people no longer altogether bear goodwill to us.
But come, before that man gathers the Achaeans
into assembly—for I do not think he will let it drop,
but will rage, and standing up will tell before all
that we plotted a sheer murder against him and did not achieve it;
and they will not praise us when they hear of evil deeds;
lest they do us some harm and drive us out
of our land, and we come to the country of others;
but let us slay him, seizing him in the country apart from the city,
or on the road; and let us ourselves hold his livelihood and possessions,
sharing them fairly among us; and the house let us
give to his mother to hold, and to whoever weds her.
But if this word displeases you, and you would rather
that he live and keep all his father's goods,
then let us no longer spend goods upon him, plentiful and pleasant to the heart,
gathering here, but let each man woo her from his own house
seeking her with bridal gifts; and she may then
marry whoever gives the most, and is fated to come.
So he spoke, and they all became silent in stillness.
Then Amphinomus spoke among them and said,
the glorious son of Nisus, lord Aretiades,
who from Dulichium, rich in wheat and grassy,
led the suitors, and most of all pleased Penelope
with his words; for he had good understanding;
he, well-minded toward them, spoke and said:
Friends, I would not wish to slay
Telemachus; for it is a dreadful thing to slay the royal race;
but first let us ask the counsels of the gods.
If the decrees of great Zeus approve,
I myself will slay him and bid all the others do so;
but if the gods turn us back, I bid you cease.
So spoke Amphinomus, and his word pleased them.
Then straightway they rose and went to the house of Odysseus,
and having come they sat down on the polished seats.
But wise Penelope thought of another thing,
to appear before the suitors in their violent insolence.
For she had learned of the destruction of her son in the halls;
for the herald Medon told her, who had learned of their counsels.
And she went to the hall with her attendant women.
But when the shining among women came to the suitors,
she stood by the doorpost of the well-built roof,
holding her shining veil before her cheeks,
and she rebuked Antinous, and spoke a word and named him:
Antinous, full of insolence, evil-deviser, and they say that you
among the people of Ithaca, among your fellows, are the best
in counsel and in speech; but you are not such as that.
Madman, why do you weave death and doom
for Telemachus, and do not regard suppliants, for whom Zeus
is witness? Nor is it holy to weave evils against one another.
Do you not know when your father came here as a fugitive,
in fear of the people? For they were exceedingly angry,
because he had followed the Taphian pirates
and had harmed the Thesprotians; and they were friends to us;
and they wished to destroy him and tear out his dear heart
and to eat up his abundant, heart-pleasing livelihood;
but Odysseus restrained them and held them back, eager though they were.
Now you devour his house in dishonor, and woo his wife
and would kill his son, and grieve me greatly;
but I bid you cease, and bid the others too.
Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her:
Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,
take courage; let not these things trouble your heart.
There is no such man, nor shall there be, nor shall he be born,
who shall lay hands on Telemachus your son,
while I live and look upon the earth.
For thus I will speak out, and surely it shall be accomplished:
quickly shall his black blood flow about my spear,
my own, since Odysseus, sacker of cities, once
many a time set me on his knees and put roast meat
in my hands, and held the red wine to me.
Therefore Telemachus is by far the dearest to me of all
men, and I bid him not to fear death at all
from the suitors; but from the gods there is no escaping.
So he spoke, encouraging her, but himself was preparing his destruction.
And she went up to the shining upper chambers
and wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until on her eyelids
bright-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep.
In the evening the noble swineherd came to Odysseus and his son;
and they made ready their supper standing by,
having sacrificed a year-old boar. But Athena,
standing near, smote Odysseus, son of Laertes,
with her rod and made him an old man again,
and clothed him in wretched garments about his body, lest the swineherd
should know him looking on him, and should go to wise Penelope
and tell her, nor keep it in his heart.
And Telemachus spoke first to him:
You have come, noble Eumaeus. What then is the talk in the city?
Are the proud suitors already within
from their ambush, or are they yet watching for me as I return home?
And answering him you said, Eumaeus the swineherd:
I had no care to ask and inquire about these things
as I went down into the city; my heart bade me most swiftly
tell my message and come back hither again.
And a swift messenger went with me from your comrades,
a herald, who was the first to speak a word to your mother.
And another thing I know; for I saw it with my eyes.
Already above the city, where the hill of Hermes is,
I was going, when I saw a swift ship coming down
into our harbor; and there were many men in it,
and it was heavy with shields and two-edged spears;
and I thought they were those men, but I do not know for sure.
So he spoke, and the sacred strength of Telemachus smiled,
looking with his eyes at his father, and shunned the swineherd's notice.
But when they had ceased from their labor and made ready the feast,
they feasted, nor did their heart lack an equal share of the feast.
But when they had put away the desire of drink and food,
they bethought them of their beds and took the gift of sleep.

### Book 17

When early-born Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered,
then upon his feet he bound the beautiful sandals,
Telemachos, the dear son of godlike Odysseus,
and he took up the valiant spear that fitted his palms,
eager for the town, and he spoke to his own swineherd:
Friend, truly I go to the city, so that my mother
may see me; for I think she will not cease from before,
from loathsome wailing and tearful lamentation,
until she beholds me myself; but to you I give this charge.
Lead this wretched stranger to the city, so that there
he may beg his dinner; and whoever wishes will give him
a loaf and a cup; for me it is in no way possible to endure
all men, though I have griefs in my heart;
and the stranger, even if he be very angry, it shall be
the worse for him; for truly I love to speak the truth.
Then in answer many-minded Odysseus addressed him:
Friend, I myself am not eager to be held back;
for a beggar it is better throughout the town than through the fields
to beg his dinner; and whoever wishes will give to me.
For I am not of an age to abide any longer at the farmsteads,
so as to obey a master in all things when he commands.
But go on your way; and this man, whom you command, shall lead me
straightway, when the warmth and the heat of the fire be come.
For terribly wretched are these garments I wear; lest
the morning frost subdue me; and afar they say the town is.
So he spoke, and Telemachos had gone through the farmstead,
stepping swiftly with his feet, and he was sowing evils for the suitors.
But when he came to the well-built house,
the spear he carried he stood against a tall pillar,
and he himself went within and crossed the stone threshold.
And the nurse Eurykleia saw him first by far,
spreading hides upon the cunningly wrought chairs,
and weeping she went straight to him; and about him the other
handmaids of steadfast Odysseus gathered,
and they kissed his head and his shoulders, welcoming him.
And from her chamber came wise Penelope,
like unto Artemis or golden Aphrodite,
and about her dear son she cast her arms, weeping,
and she kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes,
and lamenting she spoke winged words to him:
You have come, Telemachos, sweet light. Never again, I said,
should I behold you, since you went with a ship to Pylos
in secret, against my will, to hear tidings of your dear father.
But come now, recount to me how you met with the sight of him.
And prudent Telemachos answered her in turn:
My mother, do not rouse lamentation in me, nor stir
my heart within my breast, though I have escaped sheer destruction;
but bathe you, and put clean garments upon your body,
and going up to your upper chamber with your attendant women,
pray to all the gods that you will render perfect hecatombs,
if perchance Zeus shall accomplish deeds of requital.
But I will go to the assembly, so that I may summon
the stranger, whosoever followed with me hither as I came.
Him I sent on before with my godlike companions,
and I charged Peiraios to lead him to his house
and to love and honor him kindly, until I come.
So she spoke, and for her the word was wingless.
And she bathed, and put clean garments upon her body,
and prayed to all the gods that she would render
perfect hecatombs, if perchance Zeus shall accomplish deeds of requital.
And Telemachos thereafter had gone through the great hall
holding his spear; and with him two swift dogs followed.
And wondrous grace Athene poured over him;
and all the people marveled at him as he came on.
And about him the lordly suitors gathered,
speaking fair words, but in their hearts brooding evils.
But he avoided their great throng,
and there where Mentor sat and Antiphos and Halitherses,
who were his father's companions from the beginning,
there he went and sat him down; and they questioned him of everything.
And to them Peiraios, famed for the spear, came near,
leading the stranger to the assembly through the town; nor any longer
did Telemachos turn away from the stranger, but stood beside him.
And Peiraios first spoke a word to him:
Telemachos, quickly urge the women to my house,
so that I may send on the gifts that Menelaos gave you.
And prudent Telemachos answered him in turn:
Peiraios, for we know not how these deeds shall be.
If the lordly suitors slay me in the halls
in secret, and divide among them all my father's goods,
I would rather you yourself enjoyed them, than one of these;
but if I sow slaughter and death for these men,
then bring them to my house rejoicing, and I shall rejoice.
So saying, he led the much-suffering stranger to his house.
But when they came to the well-built house,
their cloaks they laid upon the couches and the chairs,
and stepping into the well-polished bathtubs they bathed.
And when the handmaids had bathed them and anointed them with oil,
and cast about them shaggy cloaks and tunics,
they stepped from the bathtubs and sat upon the chairs.
And a handmaid poured water for the hands from a pitcher she brought,
a beautiful golden one, above a silver basin,
that they might wash; and beside them she drew up a polished table.
And the honored housekeeper brought and set before them bread,
laying on many viands, giving freely of what was present.
And his mother sat opposite, beside the doorpost of the hall,
leaning upon a chair, spinning fine threads of wool.
And they stretched their hands to the ready food set before them,
but when they had put away the desire of drink and of food,
then wise Penelope began speech among them:
Telemachos, truly I, going up to my upper chamber,
shall lay me down upon my bed, which has been made woeful for me,
ever drenched with my tears, since Odysseus
departed with the sons of Atreus to Ilios; nor did you dare,
before the lordly suitors came to this house,
to tell me clearly of your father's homecoming, if you heard it anywhere.
And prudent Telemachos answered her in turn:
Then, mother, I shall recount to you the truth.
We went to Pylos and to Nestor, shepherd of the people;
and he received me in his lofty halls
and kindly entertained me, as a father his own son
come after long time, newly from elsewhere; so did he
kindly care for me with his glorious sons.
But of steadfast Odysseus never did he say
that he heard tidings from any mortal, alive or dead;
but he sped me on to the son of Atreus, Menelaos famed for the spear,
with horses and well-joined chariots.
There I beheld Argive Helen, for whose sake many
Argives and Trojans toiled by the will of the gods.
And straightway good at the war-cry, Menelaos asked
for what need I had come to shining Lakedaimon;
and I recounted to him all the truth;
and then answering me with words he spoke:
Ah me, truly they wished to lie in the bed
of a strong-hearted man, they themselves being cowards.
As when in a thicket a hind of a mighty lion
has lulled to sleep her newborn, milk-fed fawns,
and searches the glens and the grassy hollows
as she grazes, and he thereafter enters his own lair,
and upon both of them he sends an unseemly doom,
so shall Odysseus send upon those men an unseemly doom.
If only, father Zeus and Athene and Apollo,
being such as he was when once in well-built Lesbos
he rose up and wrestled in strife with Philomeleides,
and threw him mightily, and all the Achaeans rejoiced,
being such, Odysseus might consort with the suitors;
all would become swift-fated and bitterly wedded.
But these things you ask and entreat of me, I for my part
would not speak otherwise, turning aside, nor deceive you,
but as the old man of the sea, truthful, told me,
I will hide no word of it from you nor conceal it.
He said he beheld him on an island, having mighty griefs,
in the halls of the nymph Kalypso, who by necessity
holds him; and he cannot reach his own fatherland.
For he has no oared ships at hand and no companions,
who might send him over the broad back of the sea.
So spoke the son of Atreus, Menelaos famed for the spear.
Having finished this I returned; and the immortals gave me
a fair wind, which swiftly sent me to my dear fatherland.
So he spoke, and stirred the spirit in her breast.
And among them godlike Theoklymenos also spoke:
Revered lady, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,
truly he knows not clearly; but hear my word;
for I will prophesy to you exactly and will not conceal it.
Let Zeus be witness now, first of gods, and the stranger's table
and the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have reached,
that truly Odysseus is already in his fatherland,
sitting or creeping, learning of these evil deeds;
he is here, and he sows evil for all the suitors.
Such a bird of omen I marked, seated
on the well-benched ship, and I called it to Telemachos.
And wise Penelope addressed him in turn:
If only, stranger, this word might be accomplished;
then you would soon know friendship and many gifts
from me, so that whoever met you would call you blessed.
So they spoke such things to one another,
and the suitors before the hall of Odysseus
took delight in quoits and in hurling javelins
on the leveled floor, where before they had their insolence.
But when it was dinner-time and the flocks came
from the fields on every side, and those who had brought them before,
then Medon spoke to them; for he pleased them most
of the heralds, and was present at their feasting:
Young men, since you have all delighted your hearts with contests,
come to the house, that we may prepare the feast;
for in no way is it worse to take dinner in season.
So he spoke, and they rose up and went, obeying the word.
But when they came to the well-built house,
their cloaks they laid upon the couches and the chairs,
and they sacrificed great sheep and fat goats,
they sacrificed boars rich with fat and a cow of the herd,
preparing the feast. And from the field toward the town
Odysseus and the godlike swineherd hastened to go.
And the swineherd began speech among them, leader of men:
Stranger, since you are eager to go to the town
today, as my master commanded—truly I for my part
would wish to leave you here as guardian of the farmstead;
but him I fear and dread, lest afterward
he reproach me; hard are the rebukes of masters—
but come now, let us go; for the day has come on greatly,
and soon toward evening it will be colder.
And many-minded Odysseus answered him:
I know, I understand; as a thoughtful man you command.
But let us go, and do you lead the way throughout.
And give me, if anywhere you have a cut club,
to lean upon, since you said the path is slippery.
So he spoke, and cast about his shoulders his unseemly pouch,
full of holes; and in it there was a twisted strap;
and Eumaios gave him a staff dear to his heart.
The two went on, and the dogs and the herdsmen men
guarded the farmstead behind, remaining; but he led the master to the town
like a wretched beggar and an old man,
leaning on a staff; and about his skin he wore wretched garments.
But when, journeying along the rugged road,
they were near the town and came to the spring
built and fair-flowing, from which the townsfolk drew water,
which Ithakos made and Neritos and Polyktor;
and about it was a grove of water-nurtured poplars,
all around in a circle, and down flowed cold water
from on high out of a rock; and above it an altar had been built
to the nymphs, where all wayfarers made offering;
there the son of Dolios, Melanthios, came upon them,
leading goats, which stood out among all the herds,
for the suitors' dinner; and two herdsmen followed with him.
Seeing them he reviled them, and spoke a word and named them,
outrageous and unseemly; and he stirred the heart of Odysseus:
Now truly a base man leads a base man,
as always a god leads like to like.
Where then are you leading this greedy-belly, wretched swineherd,
a tiresome beggar, a scrubber of feasts?
One who, standing by many doorposts, will rub his shoulders,
begging for scraps, not swords nor cauldrons;
him, if you gave him to me to be guardian of the farmstead
and to tend the pens and carry leaves for the kids,
drinking whey he might make a great thigh for himself.
But since he has learned base works, he will not wish
to go about any work, but skulking through the district
he wishes to beg and feed his insatiable belly.
But I tell you this, and it shall also be accomplished:
if he comes to the house of godlike Odysseus,
many footstools from the hands of men
about his head will rub his ribs as he is cast through the house.
So he spoke, and as he passed he kicked him in his folly
upon the hip; but he did not thrust him off the path,
but he stood firm; and Odysseus pondered
whether, rushing upon him with a club, he should take his life,
or should dash his head to the ground, lifting it up on both sides.
But he endured it, and restrained himself in his mind; and the swineherd
reviled him, looking him in the face, and prayed greatly, lifting his hands:
Nymphs of the springs, daughters of Zeus, if ever Odysseus
burned fat thighs for you, covered with rich fat,
of lambs and kids, fulfill this desire for me:
that that man may come, and a god may lead him;
then he would scatter all your splendors,
which now in insolence you carry, forever wandering
through the town; but evil herdsmen destroy the flocks.
And Melanthios answered him, the goatherd of goats:
Ah me, how the dog speaks, knowing deadly things!
Him one day I will take on a black, well-benched ship
far from Ithaka, so that he may fetch me much profit.
If only silver-bowed Apollo would strike Telemachos
today in the halls, or he be subdued by the suitors,
as the day of Odysseus' homecoming perished far away.
So saying he left them, walking slowly there,
but he went on, and very swiftly came to the house of the master.
Straightway he went within, and sat down among the suitors,
opposite Eurymachos; for he loved him most.
Beside him those who served set a portion of meat,
and the honored housekeeper brought and set before him bread
to eat. And near at hand Odysseus and the godlike swineherd
stood as they came, and about them came the sound
of the hollow lyre; for among them Phemios
was beginning to sing; and he took the swineherd by the hand and spoke:
Eumaios, truly this is the beautiful house of Odysseus,
and easily known is it even among many to behold.
One thing after another is it, and the courtyard is furnished
with wall and cornice, and the doors are well-fenced,
double-folding; no man could overmaster it.
And I know that many men set a feast in it,
since the savor of fat has risen, and within the lyre
rings out, which the gods made the companion of the feast.
And you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:
Easily you knew, since you are not in other things either witless.
But come, let us consider how these deeds shall be.
Either do you go first into the well-built house,
and go among the suitors, and I will remain here;
or if you wish, wait, and I will go in front;
and do not delay, lest someone notice you outside
and strike you or drive you; these things I bid you consider.
And much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:
I know, I understand; as a thoughtful man you command.
But go in front, and I will remain here.
For I am not unacquainted with blows nor with wounds;
daring is my spirit, since I have suffered many evils
in waves and in war; let this too be among them;
for the belly it is in no way possible to hide when it is eager,
accursed, which gives many evils to men,
for whose sake even well-benched ships are fitted out
over the barren sea, bringing evils to enemies.
So they spoke such things to one another;
and the dog lying there raised his head and his ears,
Argos, the dog of steadfast Odysseus, whom once he himself
reared, but had no joy of him, for before that to holy Ilios
he had gone. Him formerly young men used to lead
after wild goats and deer and hares;
but then he lay neglected, his master gone,
in much dung, which before the doors
of mules and cattle was poured in abundance, until the servants
of Odysseus should lead it to the great field for manuring;
there the dog Argos lay, full of dog-ticks.
Then truly, when he perceived that Odysseus was near,
he wagged his tail and dropped both ears,
but no longer thereafter was he able to come near his own master;
but Odysseus, looking away, wiped away a tear,
easily escaping Eumaios' notice, and straightway questioned him with a word:
Eumaios, truly it is a great wonder that this dog lies in the dung.
Beautiful in body is he, but this I know not clearly,
whether he was also swift to run in keeping with this appearance,
or merely such as the table-dogs of men
become; for masters tend them for their splendor.
And you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:
Yes indeed, this is the dog of a man who died far away.
If he were such in body and in deeds
as when Odysseus left him, going to Troy,
you would quickly marvel, beholding his speed and his strength.
For never did he flee from any beast in the depths
of the deep wood, whatever he chased; for he was excellent in tracking;
but now he is held by misery, and his master has perished
elsewhere from his fatherland, and careless women tend him not.
And servants, when masters no longer rule over them,
no longer wish to do what is right;
for far-seeing Zeus takes away half
of a man's virtue, when the day of slavery seizes him.
So saying he entered the well-built house,
and went straight to the hall among the lordly suitors.
And the doom of black death took Argos,
straightway, when he beheld Odysseus in the twentieth year.
And godlike Telemachos saw the swineherd first by far
coming through the house, and swiftly then
nodded to him, calling him; and he looked about and took a chair
that lay there, where the carver used to sit, carving
much meat for the suitors feasting through the house;
this he brought and set near the table of Telemachos,
opposite, and there he himself sat down; and a herald
took a portion and set it before him, and bread from a basket.
And near after him Odysseus entered the house,
like a wretched beggar and an old man,
leaning on a staff; and about his skin he wore wretched garments.
And he sat down upon the ash-wood threshold inside the doors,
leaning against a cypress doorpost, which a carpenter once
smoothed skillfully and set straight by the line.
And Telemachos called to him and spoke to the swineherd,
taking a whole loaf from the beautiful basket
and meat, as much as his hands could hold when he filled them:
Give these to the stranger, carrying them, and bid him himself
beg from all the suitors, going about to each;
for shame is not good to be present with a man in need.
So he spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word,
and standing near he spoke winged words:
Telemachos gives you these, stranger, and bids you
beg from all the suitors, going about to each;
for he says shame is not good for a man who begs.
And many-minded Odysseus answered him:
Lord Zeus, may Telemachos be blessed among men,
and may all things be his, as many as he desires in his heart.
So he spoke, and with both hands he received it and set it down
there before his feet, upon his unseemly pouch,
and he ate while the singer sang in the halls;
and when he had dined, the divine singer ceased.
And the suitors clamored through the hall. And Athene,
standing near, urged Laertes' son Odysseus
to gather loaves among the suitors,
and to learn who were the righteous and who the lawless;
but not even so was she about to ward off evil from any one of them.
He went to beg, going from the right, each man,
stretching out his hand on every side, as if he had long been a beggar.
And they, pitying him, gave, and marveled at him,
and asked one another who he was and from whence he came.
And Melanthios also spoke among them, the goatherd of goats:
Hear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,
concerning this stranger; for truly I saw him before.
Indeed the swineherd led him hither,
but I know not clearly from whence he claims his lineage.
So he spoke, and Antinoos reviled the swineherd with words:
O famous swineherd, why did you lead this man
to the town? Have we not enough other vagabonds,
tiresome beggars, scrubbers of feasts?
Do you begrudge that they eat up the master's livelihood
gathering here, and you even called this one besides?
And you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:
Antinoos, though you are noble, you speak no fair word.
For who calls a stranger from elsewhere, himself coming,
another one, unless he be one of the public workers,
a seer or a healer of ills or a carpenter of beams,
or even a divine singer, who delights by singing?
For these are the summoned ones of mortals over the boundless earth;
but a beggar who devours himself no one would call.
But ever are you harsh above all the suitors
toward the servants of Odysseus, and especially toward me; but I
care not, as long as thoughtful Penelope
lives in the halls and godlike Telemachos.
And prudent Telemachos answered him in turn:
Be silent, do not answer him with many words;
Antinoos is wont always to provoke evilly
with harsh words, and he stirs up others too.
So he spoke, and addressed winged words to Antinoos:
Antinoos, truly you care for me finely as a father for his son,
you who bid the stranger be thrust from the hall
with a compelling word; may no god accomplish this.
Take and give to him; I do not begrudge it; indeed I bid you.
And do not reverence my mother in this, nor any other
of the servants, who are in the house of godlike Odysseus.
But no such thought is in your breast;
for you yourself wish to eat much rather than give to another.
And Antinoos answered him in turn:
Telemachos, loud-vaunting, unrestrained in fury, what a word you have spoken.
If all the suitors would reach out so much to him,
then his house would hold him off three months.
So he spoke, and taking a footstool from beneath the table
he showed it, where he used to rest his shining feet while feasting;
and all the others gave, and they filled his pouch
with bread and meat; and soon Odysseus was about
to go again to the threshold, to taste the gifts of the Achaeans;
but he stood by Antinoos and spoke a word to him:
Give, friend; you do not seem to me to be the worst
of the Achaeans, but the best, since you look like a king.
Therefore you ought to give even better than the others,
bread; and I will praise you over the boundless earth.
For I too once dwelt in a house among men,
blessed and rich, and often I gave to a wanderer,
such as he was and of whatever need he came;
and I had countless servants and many other things
with which men live well and are called rich.
But Zeus the son of Kronos destroyed it—for he wished it somehow—
who sent me with much-wandering pirates
to go to Egypt, a long journey, that I might perish.
I stationed my curved ships at the Egyptian river.
Then truly I bade my trusty companions
to remain there by the ships and guard the ships,
and I urged scouts to go to the lookout places.
But they, yielding to insolence, following their own fury,
straightway laid waste the very beautiful fields of the Egyptian men,
and led away the women and the infant children,
and slew the men themselves; and swiftly a cry reached the city.
And they, hearing the shout as the dawn appeared,
came; and the whole plain was filled with footmen and horses
and the flash of bronze; and Zeus who delights in thunder
cast a base rout upon my companions, and no one dared
to stand against them; for evils stood around on every side.
There they killed many of us with the sharp bronze,
and led others away alive, to work for them by necessity.
But me they gave to a stranger they met in Cyprus,
to Dmetor, son of Iasos, who ruled Cyprus by force;
from there indeed I have now come hither, suffering woes.
And Antinoos answered him in turn and spoke:
What god brought this woe, this annoyance of the feast?
Stand thus in the middle, away from my table,
lest you soon reach bitter Egypt and Cyprus;
for you are a bold and shameless beggar.
In turn you stand by all; and they give
at random, since there is no restraint nor pity
in giving from others' goods, since plenty is at hand for each.
And withdrawing, many-minded Odysseus spoke:
Ah me, so your mind does not match your looks;
you would not give even salt to your own house-master from your house,
you who now sit by others' goods and did not dare
to take bread and give it to me; yet much is present.
So he spoke, and Antinoos grew angrier in his heart,
and looking at him darkly he spoke winged words:
Now indeed I think you will no longer go back
fairly through the hall, since you utter reproaches too.
So he spoke, and taking a footstool he struck him on the right shoulder,
at the very bottom of his back; and he stood like a rock
firm, nor did the missile of Antinoos make him stagger,
but silently he nodded his head, brooding evils.
And back he went and sat upon the threshold, and set down his pouch
well filled, and spoke among the suitors:
Hear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,
while I speak what my spirit in my breast bids me.
There is no grief in my mind nor any sorrow
when a man is struck while fighting for his own possessions,
either for cattle or for white sheep;
but Antinoos struck me for the sake of my wretched belly,
accursed, which gives many evils to men.
But if there are gods and Furies for beggars,
may the doom of death come upon Antinoos before his marriage.
And Antinoos, son of Eupeithes, answered him:
Eat in peace, stranger, sitting still, or go elsewhere,
lest the young men drag you through the house for the words you speak,
by foot or by hand, and tear you all to pieces.
So he spoke, and all of them were exceedingly indignant;
and thus one of the overbearing young men said:
Antinoos, you did not strike the wretched wanderer fairly,
accursed, if indeed there is some heavenly god.
And gods, likened to foreign strangers,
taking all sorts of forms, roam the cities,
watching the insolence and the good order of men.
So the suitors spoke, but he paid no heed to their words.
And Telemachos in his heart increased great grief
at the blow, but he let no tear fall to the ground from his eyelids,
but silently he nodded his head, brooding evils.
And when wise Penelope heard of him
struck in the hall, she spoke among her handmaids:
If only far-famed Apollo would strike that man himself.
And the housekeeper Eurynome spoke a word to her:
If only accomplishment would come to our prayers;
then none of these would reach the fair-throned Dawn.
And wise Penelope answered her in turn:
Nurse, all of them are hateful, since they devise evils;
but Antinoos most of all resembles black doom.
Some wretched stranger wanders through the house
begging from men; for need compels him;
and there all the others both filled him and gave,
but this one struck his right shoulder with a footstool.
So she spoke among her handmaid women,
sitting in her chamber; and godlike Odysseus dined;
and she called to her and spoke to the godlike swineherd:
Go, godlike Eumaios, go and bid the stranger
to come, so that I may greet him and ask him
whether he has heard anything of steadfast Odysseus
or seen him with his eyes; for he looks like one much wandered.
And you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:
If only, queen, the Achaeans would be silent;
such things as he tells, your dear heart would be charmed.
For I kept him three nights, and three days I detained him
in my hut; for first he came to me after escaping from his ship;
but he has not yet finished the misery he tells.
As when a man gazes at a singer, who from the gods
sings, knowing lovely words for mortals,
and they are insatiably eager to hear him whenever he sings;
so that man charmed me, sitting beside me in the halls.
And he says he is a guest-friend of Odysseus by inheritance,
dwelling in Crete, where the race of Minos is.
From there indeed he has now come hither, suffering woes,
rolling on and on; and he claims he has heard of Odysseus,
near at hand, in the rich district of the Thesprotian men,
that he is alive; and he brings many treasures home to this house.
And wise Penelope answered him in turn:
Go, call him hither, so that he may himself tell me face to face.
And let these men sit and amuse themselves at the doors,
or here through the house, since their heart is merry.
For their own possessions lie unspoiled in the house,
bread and sweet wine; these the household eats,
but they, coming to our house every day,
sacrificing cattle and sheep and fat goats,
feast and drink the flaming wine,
at random; and much is consumed. For no longer is there a man
such as Odysseus was, to ward off ruin from the house.
But if Odysseus would come and reach his fatherland,
soon with his son he would exact payment for the violence of the men.
So she spoke, and Telemachos sneezed greatly, and through the house
it rang terribly; and Penelope laughed,
and straightway she spoke winged words to Eumaios:
Go, call the stranger hither before me.
Do you not see that my son sneezed at all my words?
Therefore death shall not be unaccomplished for the suitors,
for all of them, nor shall any escape death and the fates.
And I will tell you another thing, and do you set it in your mind:
if I find him telling all things truthfully,
I will clothe him in cloak and tunic, beautiful garments.
So she spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word;
and standing near he spoke winged words:
Stranger and father, wise Penelope calls you,
the mother of Telemachos; the desire of her heart
bids her inquire about her husband, though she has suffered griefs.
And if she finds you telling all things truthfully,
she will clothe you in cloak and tunic, which you most
need; and bread, begging through the district,
you will feed your belly; and whoever wishes will give you.
And much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:
Eumaios, straightway I would tell all things truthfully
to the daughter of Ikarios, wise Penelope;
for I know well concerning him, and we have shared the same sorrow.
But I dread the crowd of harsh suitors,
whose insolence and violence reach the iron heaven.
For even now, when this man struck me as I came through the house,
though I had done no wrong, and gave me pains,
neither Telemachos helped in this nor any other.
Therefore now bid Penelope in the halls
to wait, though she is eager, until the sun sets;
and then let her ask me about the day of her husband's homecoming,
having seated me closer by the fire; for I have
wretched garments; you yourself know, since I first supplicated you.
So he spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word.
And Penelope spoke to him as he crossed the threshold:
You are not bringing him, Eumaios; why did the wanderer think this?
Is he fearing someone excessively, or does he otherwise
feel shame in the house? A base wanderer is a shameful one.
And you answered her, Eumaios the swineherd:
He speaks with reason, as any other man would think,
avoiding the insolence of overbearing men.
But he bids you wait until the sun sets.
And for you yourself, queen, it is much better
to speak and to listen to a word alone with the stranger.
And wise Penelope answered him in turn:
The stranger is not foolish; he thinks as it would be;
for nowhere do any such mortal men
devise reckless things in their insolence.
So she spoke, and the godlike swineherd went
into the crowd of suitors, when he had told her everything.
And straightway he spoke winged words to Telemachos,
holding his head near, that the others might not hear:
Dear friend, I am going away, to guard the swine and those things,
your livelihood and mine; but let all things here be your care.
First save yourself, and consider in your heart
lest you suffer something; for many of the Achaeans plan evils,
whom may Zeus destroy before they become a woe to us.
And prudent Telemachos answered him in turn:
It shall be so, father; but go, after your evening meal;
and at dawn come and bring fine sacrificial victims;
and all these things shall be my care and the immortals'.
So he spoke, and he sat down again upon the well-polished chair,
and having filled his heart with food and drink
he went to the swine, and left the pens and the hall,
full of banqueters; and they with dancing and song
took their delight; for now the late day had come.

### Book 18

There came a common beggar, who through the town
begged in Ithaca, and was noted for his ravenous belly,
for ceaseless eating and drinking; and there was no strength in him
nor might, though in form he was very big to look upon.
Arnaeus was his name; for so his lady mother gave it
from birth; but all the young men called him Irus,
because he went as messenger whenever anyone asked.
He came and drove Odysseus from his own house,
and reviling him spoke winged words:
Give way, old man, from the doorway, lest you soon be dragged by the foot.
Do you not hear how they all wink at me
and bid me drag you out? Yet I am ashamed.
But rise, lest soon there be a quarrel and blows between us.
Glowering at him, much-devising Odysseus answered:
Strange man, I neither do you any harm nor speak it,
nor do I grudge anyone giving, though he had taken much.
This threshold will hold us both, and you have no need
to begrudge another's goods; you seem to me a wanderer
even as I am; but the gods may grant wealth.
Do not provoke me too far with your hands, lest you anger me,
lest, though old, I defile your chest and lips
with blood; and there would be more quiet for me
tomorrow; for I do not think you will return
a second time to the hall of Laertes' son Odysseus.
Angered, the beggar Irus addressed him:
Alas, how glibly this greedy glutton talks,
like a crone at the oven; on whom I would devise evils,
striking with both fists, and I would drive all his teeth
from his jaws to the ground, as if he were a ravening sow.
Gird yourself now, so that all these too may know
us fighting; how could you fight a younger man?
So the two before the high doors
on the polished threshold strove with all their hearts.
And the sacred fury of Antinous understood them,
and laughing sweetly he spoke among the suitors:
Friends, never before has such a thing happened,
what delight a god has brought into this house.
The stranger and Irus contend with each other
to fight with their hands; come, let us match them quickly.
So he spoke, and all leapt up laughing,
and they gathered around the two ill-clad beggars.
Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them:
Hear me, lordly suitors, that I may say something.
These goats' paunches lie in the fire, which for supper
we set there, filled with fat and blood;
whichever of the two wins and proves the better,
let him rise and take whichever of them he wishes;
and ever hereafter he shall share with us, nor shall we allow
any other beggar to come in and beg among us.
So spoke Antinous, and the word pleased them.
But much-devising Odysseus, with crafty mind, said to them:
Friends, it is in no way possible for an old man,
afflicted with misery, to fight a younger; but my belly
the evil-working drives me on, that I may be subdued by blows.
But come now, all swear me a strong oath,
that no one, showing favor to Irus, may strike me with heavy hand
in wickedness, and so subdue me by force to him.
So he spoke, and all swore as he commanded.
But when they had sworn and finished the oath,
then again the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke among them:
Stranger, if your heart and lordly spirit urge you
to ward off this man, then fear no other of the Achaeans,
for whoever strikes you will fight with more than one.
I am your host, and the princes approve it,
both Antinous and Eurymachus, both men of understanding.
So he spoke, and all approved; but Odysseus
girded his rags about his loins, and showed his thighs
fair and great, and his broad shoulders appeared
and chest and sturdy arms; and Athena
standing near made the limbs of the shepherd of the people grow.
And all the suitors marveled exceedingly;
and thus one would speak, looking at his neighbor:
Soon will Irus be Irus no more and have a self-invited evil,
such a thigh the old man shows from beneath his rags.
So they spoke, and the spirit of Irus was stirred to evil.
Yet even so the servants brought him, girding him by force,
all afraid; and his flesh trembled around his limbs.
Antinous rebuked him, and spoke and named him:
Now may you not be, you boaster, nor ever have been,
if you tremble before this man and fear him terribly,
an old man, afflicted with misery that has come upon him.
But I will speak out, and it shall be accomplished:
if this man conquers you and proves the better,
I will send you to the mainland, casting you in a black ship,
to king Echetus, the destroyer of all mortals,
who will cut off your nose and ears with pitiless bronze,
and tearing out your privy parts give them raw to the dogs to share.
So he spoke, and trembling seized his limbs yet more.
They led them to the middle; both raised their hands.
Then much-enduring, brilliant Odysseus pondered
whether to strike so that his life should leave him fallen there,
or to strike him lightly and stretch him on the ground.
Thus, as he pondered, it seemed better to him
to strike lightly, lest the Achaeans notice him.
Then as they raised their hands, one struck the right shoulder,
Irus; and the other struck his neck beneath the ear, and crushed the bones
within; at once crimson blood came through his mouth,
and he fell bellowing in the dust, and gnashed his teeth
kicking the earth with his feet; and the noble suitors
died of laughter, raising their hands. But Odysseus
dragged him by the foot through the doorway until he reached the court,
and the doors of the porch; and against the courtyard wall
he set him, leaning him back, and put his staff into his hand,
and speaking addressed him with winged words:
Sit here now and keep off the swine and the dogs,
and do not be a lord over strangers and beggars,
wretched as you are, lest you get some evil even greater.
He spoke, and slung about his shoulders his unseemly wallet,
much torn, and in it was a twisted cord for a strap.
Then he went back and sat down on the threshold; and they went in
laughing sweetly and greeting him with words:
May Zeus give you, stranger, and the other immortal gods,
whatever you most desire and is dear to your heart,
you who have stopped this glutton from begging
among the people; for soon we will carry him to the mainland
to king Echetus, destroyer of all mortals.
So they spoke, and brilliant Odysseus rejoiced at the omen.
And Antinous set before him a great paunch,
full of fat and blood; and Amphinomus
lifted two loaves from the basket and set them beside him,
and pledged him with a golden cup, and spoke:
Hail, father stranger, may there be for you hereafter
wealth; but now you are held by many troubles.
Answering him, much-devising Odysseus said:
Amphinomus, truly you seem to me a man of understanding,
of such a father too, for I have heard his good repute,
that Nisus of Dulichium was both noble and wealthy;
from him they say you are born, and you seem a gracious man.
Therefore I will tell you, and do you mark it and hear me:
Earth nourishes nothing more feeble than man,
of all things that breathe and creep upon the earth.
For he never thinks he will suffer evil hereafter,
as long as the gods grant him excellence and his knees are nimble;
but when the blessed gods bring grievous things to pass,
he bears them too, unwilling, with an enduring heart.
For such is the mind of men upon the earth
as the day the father of men and gods brings on.
For I too was once destined to be happy among men,
and I did many reckless things, yielding to force and might,
trusting in my father and in my brothers.
Therefore let no man ever be altogether lawless,
but let him keep in silence whatever gifts the gods give.
Such things I see the suitors recklessly devising,
wasting the possessions and dishonoring the wife
of a man who, I say, will no longer be absent from his friends
and fatherland for long; he is very near. But may some deity
lead you home out of the way, and may you not meet that man,
when he returns to his dear fatherland;
for I do not think they will part without bloodshed,
the suitors and that man, once he comes beneath the roof.
So he spoke, and after the libation drank the honey-sweet wine,
and put the cup back into the hands of the marshal of the people.
But he went through the house, grieved at heart,
nodding with his head; for his spirit foresaw evil.
Yet not even so did he escape his fate; Athena bound even him
to be subdued by force beneath the hands and spear of Telemachus.
Then he sat down again on the chair from which he had risen.
And the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, put it into the mind
of the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,
to appear before the suitors, so that she might most widen
the hearts of the suitors and be held more honored
by her husband and son than she had been before.
She laughed meaninglessly, and spoke and named the word:
Eurynome, my heart longs, as never before,
to appear before the suitors, hateful as they are to me;
and I would speak a word to my son, which would be better for him,
not to consort in everything with the overbearing suitors,
who speak well to the face but think evil behind.
Then the housekeeper Eurynome answered her:
Yes indeed, child, you have spoken all this in season.
But go and speak a word to your son, and do not hide it,
after washing your skin and anointing your cheeks;
and do not go with your face thus defiled with tears,
for it is worse to mourn endlessly and ever.
For your son is already of such an age, the one you above all
prayed to the immortals to see with a beard.
Then wise Penelope answered her:
Eurynome, do not urge these things on me, careful though you are,
to wash my skin and anoint myself with oil;
for the gods who hold Olympus have destroyed my beauty,
ever since that man went in the hollow ships.
But bid Autonoe and Hippodamia
come to me, that they may stand beside me in the hall;
I will not go alone among men; for I am ashamed.
So she spoke, and the old woman went through the hall
to tell the women and urge them to come.
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, thought of another thing:
she poured sweet sleep upon the daughter of Icarius,
and she slept, laid back, and all her joints were loosened
there on the couch; meanwhile the shining goddess
gave immortal gifts, that the Achaeans might marvel at her.
First she cleansed her fair face with beauty,
with ambrosial oil, such as fair-crowned Cytherea
anoints herself with when she goes to the lovely dance of the Graces;
and she made her taller and fuller to look upon,
and made her whiter than sawn ivory.
So having done this the shining goddess departed,
and the white-armed handmaids came from the hall
with voices as they came; and sweet sleep released her,
and she wiped her cheeks with her hands and spoke:
Ah, a soft slumber has covered me, deeply stricken as I am.
Would that holy Artemis would grant me so soft a death
even now, so that I might no longer, grieving in my heart,
wear away my life, longing for my dear husband
of every excellence, since he was outstanding among the Achaeans.
So speaking she came down the shining upper stairs,
not alone; two handmaids followed with her.
And when the shining one among women came to the suitors,
she stood by the doorpost of the well-built roof,
holding her shining veil before her cheeks;
and a faithful handmaid stood on either side of her.
Their knees were loosed on the spot, and their hearts were charmed with desire,
and all prayed to lie beside her in bed.
And she addressed Telemachus, her dear son:
Telemachus, your mind is no longer steadfast, nor your thought;
when you were still a child you managed your thoughts with more sense;
but now, when you are grown and have reached the measure of youth,
and one might say you were the son of a blessed man,
looking at your size and beauty, even a stranger,
your thoughts are no longer seemly, nor your mind.
What a deed has been done in the hall,
that you let the stranger be so shamefully treated.
How now, if a stranger in our own house
sitting here should suffer such from painful dragging about?
It would be disgrace and shame for you among men.
Then discreet Telemachus answered her:
Mother, I do not blame you for being angry;
but I myself perceive in my heart and know each thing,
both good and worse; before I was still a child.
But I cannot see all things wisely;
for these men sitting by me strike me from this side and that,
these who think evil, and there are none to help me.
Yet the battle of the stranger and Irus did not happen
by the will of the suitors; he was the stronger by force.
Would that, father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,
so now the suitors in our house
might nod their heads in subjection, some in the courtyard,
some within the house, and each man's limbs be loosened,
as now that Irus at the courtyard doors
sits nodding with his head, like a drunken man,
and cannot stand upright on his feet, nor go
home, where his way home is, since his dear limbs are loosened.
So these two spoke such words to each other;
and Eurymachus addressed Penelope with words:
Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,
if all the Achaeans throughout Iasian Argos saw you,
more suitors would feast in your house
from the dawn, since you surpass all women
in beauty and stature and in the mind within you.
Then wise Penelope answered him:
Eurymachus, the immortals destroyed my excellence
and beauty and form, when the Argives went up
to Ilium, and with them went my husband Odysseus.
If that man came and cared for my life,
my glory would be greater and fairer so.
But now I grieve; for a deity has heaped so many evils on me.
Indeed, when he went leaving his fatherland behind,
he took my hand by the wrist and spoke to me:
Wife, I do not think the well-greaved Achaeans
will all return safely unscathed from Troy;
for they say the Trojans are fighting men,
both spearmen and shooters of arrows,
and riders of swift-footed horses, who most quickly
decide the great strife of leveling war.
So I do not know whether a god will release me, or I shall be taken
there in Troy; and let all things here be your care.
Remember my father and mother in the hall,
as now, or even more, while I am far away;
and when you see our son bearded,
marry whom you wish, leaving your house behind.
So he spoke; and now all this is being accomplished.
There will be a night when a hateful marriage will meet me
in my accursed case, from whom Zeus has taken away prosperity.
But this dread grief comes on my heart and spirit:
this was not the custom of suitors in former times;
those who wish to woo a good woman and a rich man's daughter
and vie with one another,
themselves bring cattle and sturdy sheep,
a feast for the maiden's friends, and give shining gifts;
they do not eat up another's livelihood without payment.
So she spoke, and much-enduring, brilliant Odysseus rejoiced,
because she drew gifts from them, and charmed their hearts
with gentle words, while her mind intended other things.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, addressed her:
Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,
whatever Achaean wishes to bring gifts here,
accept it; for it is not noble to refuse a gift;
but we will not go to our work, nor anywhere else,
before you marry whichever Achaean is best.
So spoke Antinous, and the word pleased them;
and each sent a herald to bring gifts.
For Antinous he brought a great, very beautiful robe,
embroidered; and in it were twelve brooches, all
of gold, fitted with well-bent clasps.
And for Eurymachus he brought at once a richly wrought necklace,
of gold strung with amber, like the sun.
And for Eurydamas two servants brought earrings,
with three beads, wrought with care; and much grace shone from them.
And from Pisander, son of Polyctor, the prince,
a servant brought a necklace, a very beautiful ornament.
And each of the other Achaeans brought a fair gift.
Then the shining one among women went up to the upper rooms,
and her handmaids carried the very beautiful gifts with her;
and the men turned to dancing and lovely song,
and took their pleasure, and waited for evening to come.
And as they took their pleasure, dark evening came upon them.
At once they set three torches in the hall,
to give light; and around them they put dry wood,
long dried, seasoned, newly split with bronze,
and mixed in pine splinters; and in turn they kept the flames alive,
the maidservants of much-enduring Odysseus. But he
himself, god-born, much-devising Odysseus, said to them:
Maidens of Odysseus, whose master has long been gone,
go to the rooms where your revered queen is;
and beside her whirl the spindles, and delight her
as you sit in the hall, or card wool with your hands;
and I will provide light for all these men.
For even if they wish to wait for well-throned Dawn,
they will not overcome me; for I am very much-enduring.
So he spoke, and they laughed, and looked at one another.
Fair-cheeked Melantho rebuked him shamefully,
her whom Dolius fathered, but Penelope raised,
and cherished like a child, and gave her toys to please her heart;
but even so she had no grief for Penelope in her mind,
but she lay with Eurymachus and loved him.
She rebuked Odysseus with reproachful words:
Wretched stranger, you are surely some man whose wits are stunned,
you are not willing to go sleep in the smithy
or somewhere in a public portico, but here you talk a great deal,
boldly among many men, and in your heart
you fear nothing; either wine has hold of your wits, or always
your mind is such; and so you talk idly.
Are you beside yourself because you beat Irus the beggar?
Lest someone better than Irus soon rise against you,
who, striking you about the head with sturdy hands,
may send you out of the house, defiling you with much blood.
Glowering at her, much-devising Odysseus said:
Soon will I tell Telemachus, you dog, what you are saying,
going to him, that he may cut you limb from limb.
So speaking, he terrified the women with his words.
They went through the house, and each woman's limbs were loosened
with terror; for they thought he had spoken the truth.
But he, giving light beside the burning torches,
stood looking toward them all; and his heart pondered
in his breast other things, which were not to be unaccomplished.
And Athena did not allow the suitors, proud as they were,
to refrain from heart-paining outrage, so that yet more
grief might enter the heart of Laertes' son Odysseus.
Among them Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak,
taunting Odysseus; and he made laughter for his comrades.
Hear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,
that I may say what my heart in my breast commands me.
Not without a god has this man come to Odysseus' house;
indeed it seems to me there is a gleam of torches from him,
from his head, since he has no hair on it, not even a little.
So he spoke, and at the same time addressed Odysseus, sacker of cities:
Stranger, would you be willing to serve as a laborer, if I took you on,
on the edge of the farm, and your wage will be sufficient,
gathering stones for walls and planting tall trees?
There I would provide you grain in plenty,
and clothe you in garments and give you shoes for your feet.
But since you have learned base works, you will not be willing
to go about a task, but you would rather cringe through the country
in order to have means to feed your insatiable belly.
Answering him, much-devising Odysseus said:
Eurymachus, if only there were a contest of work between us two
in the spring season, when the days grow long,
in the meadow, and I held a well-curved sickle,
and you held such a one too, that we might make trial of the work
fasting until the very dusk, with grass in plenty.
Or if there were cattle to drive, the very best,
tawny, large, both glutted with grass,
of the same age, equal in strength, and their might not feeble,
and there were a four-acre field, and the soil yielded to the plow,
then you would see me, if I cut a straight furrow through.
Or if the son of Cronos should stir up war from somewhere
today, and I had a shield and two spears
and a helmet all of bronze, fitted to my temples,
then you would see me mingling among the foremost champions,
and you would not speak reproaching me with my belly.
But you are very insolent, and your mind is harsh;
and you think you are some great and mighty man,
because you keep company with few men, and those not good.
But if Odysseus came and reached his fatherland,
quickly would the doorway, though very broad it is,
grow narrow for you as you flee out through the porch.
So he spoke, and Eurymachus grew angrier in his heart,
and glowering at him spoke winged words:
Ah wretch, soon will I work you evil for what you say
so boldly among many men, and in your heart
you fear nothing; either wine has hold of your wits, or always
your mind is such; and so you talk idly.
Are you beside yourself because you beat Irus the beggar?
So speaking he seized a footstool; but Odysseus
sat down at the knees of Amphinomus of Dulichium,
in fear of Eurymachus; and he struck the cupbearer's right hand,
and the pitcher fell to the ground with a clang,
and he groaned and fell on his back in the dust.
The suitors clamored through the shadowy halls,
and thus one would speak, looking at his neighbor:
Would that the wandering stranger had perished elsewhere
before he came; then he would not have raised so much din.
But now we quarrel about beggars, and there will be no
pleasure in the good feast, since the worse prevails.
Then the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke among them:
Strange men, you are mad, and no longer hide in your hearts
food or drink; surely some god is stirring you up.
But having feasted well, go home and lie down,
whenever your heart bids you; I drive no one away.
So he spoke, and all bit their lips with their teeth
and marveled at Telemachus, that he spoke so boldly.
Then Amphinomus spoke and addressed them,
the shining son of Nisus, son of lord Aretias:
Friends, surely no one would be angry, attacking with contentious words,
at what has been justly said;
do not strike the stranger, nor any other
of the servants who are in the house of divine Odysseus.
But come, let the cupbearer begin with the cups,
that having made libation we may go home and lie down;
and let us leave the stranger in the halls of Odysseus
to be cared for by Telemachus; for he has come to his dear house.
So he spoke, and said a word pleasing to them all.
And the hero Mulius mixed a bowl for them,
a herald of Dulichium; he was a servant of Amphinomus;
and he distributed it to all in turn; and they, to the gods
having made libation to the blessed ones, drank honey-sweet wine.
But when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,
they went each to his own house to lie down.

### Book 19

But he was left behind within the hall, the noble Odysseus,
brooding in his heart on the slaying of the suitors with Athena's aid.
Then straightway he spoke winged words to Telemachus:
Telemachus, the gear of war must be laid up within the house,
all of it; and the suitors you must soothe with soft words
and beguile, when they question you in their longing for it.
I have laid it out of the smoke, since no longer are they like
what Odysseus left behind when he went off to Troy,
but they are soiled, as far as the blast of the fire has reached.
And besides, a god has put this greater thought in my heart,
lest in your wine, stirring up strife among you,
you wound one another and bring shame upon the feast
and the wooing; for iron of itself draws a man on.
So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his own dear father,
and he called the nurse Eurycleia aside and spoke to her:
Nurse, come now, shut the women within the halls for me,
until I lay up in the chamber my father's weapons,
the fair arms, which the smoke in the house spoils uncared for,
my father being gone away; and I was still a child.
But now I wish to lay them up, where the blast of fire will not reach them.
Then the dear nurse Eurycleia spoke to him in turn:
Ah, if only, my child, you would take thought at last
to care for the house and guard all the possessions.
But come, who then will go and bring a light for you?
You did not let the maids come forward, who might have shown a torch.
Then the prudent Telemachus answered her face to face:
This stranger here; for I will not endure an idle man, whoever
lays hands on my rations, even though he has come from far away.
So he spoke, and her word flew away unwinged.
He shut the doors of the well-built halls.
Then the two sprang up, Odysseus and his glorious son,
and carried in the helmets and the bossed shields
and the sharp-pointed spears; and before them Pallas Athena,
holding a golden lamp, made a most beautiful light.
Then Telemachus straightway spoke to his father:
Father, truly this is a great marvel that I see with my eyes.
Nevertheless the walls of the hall and the fair cross-beams,
and the fir-pitched rafters, and the columns rising high,
appear to my eyes as if they were of blazing fire.
Surely some god is within, one of those who hold wide heaven.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Be silent, and hold it in your own mind, and do not ask questions;
this is the way of the gods, who hold Olympus.
But do you lie down, and I will stay behind here,
so that I may yet stir up the maids and your mother;
and in her grief she will ask me of each thing in turn.
So he spoke, and Telemachus had gone through the hall
to lie down in his chamber, beneath the blazing torches,
where before he used to sleep, when sweet sleep came upon him;
there then he lay down too and waited for the shining Dawn.
But he was left behind within the hall, the noble Odysseus,
brooding in his heart on the slaying of the suitors with Athena's aid.
Then the wise Penelope came from her chamber,
like Artemis or golden Aphrodite.
Beside her they set a chair by the fire, where she sat down,
inlaid with ivory and silver; which once a craftsman,
Icmalius, made, and he put a footstool beneath her feet
growing from it, whereon a great fleece was thrown.
There then the wise Penelope sat down.
And the white-armed maids came from the hall.
They took away the abundant grain and the tables,
and the cups, from which the proud men drank;
and they threw the fire from the torches down to the ground, and upon them
they piled much wood, to be a light and to give warmth.
Then Melantho scolded Odysseus a second time again:
Stranger, will you still trouble us here through the night,
whirling about the house, and spying on the women?
Get out of doors, wretch, and have your fill of the feast;
or soon you may be struck with a firebrand and go out.
Then much-devising Odysseus spoke, looking at her darkly:
Woman, why do you hold such wrath against me in your heart?
Because I am dirty and wear foul clothing on my body,
and I beg through the land? Necessity drives me on.
Such are the poor and wandering men;
for I too once lived in a house among men,
blessed and wealthy, and often I gave to a wanderer,
such as he might be and whatever he came needing;
and I had countless slaves, and many other things besides,
with which men live well and are called wealthy.
But Cronion Zeus destroyed it all; for so he wished, I suppose.
Therefore never, lady, may you lose all
the glory that you now have among the maidservants.
Lest the mistress in her anger be harsh with you,
or Odysseus come; for there is still a portion of hope.
But if he has perished so and is no longer to return,
yet now there is such a son, by Apollo's grace,
Telemachus; and him no woman in the halls
escapes notice when she plays the wanton, since no longer is he a child.
So he spoke, and the wise Penelope heard him,
and she scolded her handmaid, and spoke a word and called her by name:
Bold and shameless dog, no great deed of yours
escapes me, and on your own head you shall wipe it out.
For you knew all this well, since you heard it from me myself
that I was about to ask the stranger in my halls
about my husband, since I am bitterly grieved.
So she spoke, and to the housekeeper Eurynome she said:
Eurynome, bring a chair now and a fleece upon it,
so that sitting down the stranger may speak a word and hear
from me; for I wish to question him.
So she spoke, and she very eagerly brought and set down
a well-polished chair, and threw a fleece over it;
there then the much-enduring noble Odysseus sat down.
And among them the wise Penelope began the words:
Stranger, first of all I myself will ask you this:
who and from where among men are you? Where is your city and your parents?
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Lady, no man upon the boundless earth could blame you;
for truly your fame reaches wide heaven,
as of some blameless king, who, fearing the gods,
ruling over many men and mighty ones,
upholds good judgements, and the black earth bears
wheat and barley, and the trees are heavy with fruit,
and the flocks bear young steadily, and the sea gives fish
because of his good leadership, and the people prosper under him.
So question me about the other things in your house,
but do not ask about my race and my native land,
lest you fill my heart with still more pains
as I remember; for I am very sorrowful; and it is not right for me
in another's house to sit weeping and wailing,
since it is worse to mourn endlessly and forever.
Lest one of the maids resent me, or you yourself,
and say that I am swimming in tears, my mind heavy with wine.
Then the wise Penelope answered him:
Stranger, truly the immortals destroyed my virtue and my form
and my body, when the Argives went up into Ilion,
and among them went my own husband Odysseus.
If that man should come and care for my life,
my fame would be greater and fairer so.
But now I grieve; for a god has poured so many sorrows upon me.
For all the best men who rule the islands,
Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus,
and those who dwell around Ithaca itself with its fair prospect,
they court me against my will, and wear out my house.
Therefore I pay no heed to strangers or suppliants
or any heralds, who are public servants;
but longing for Odysseus, my dear husband, my heart melts away.
They hurry on the marriage; but I unravel my deceits.
First a god breathed into my heart a robe —
when I had set up a great loom, to weave in the halls —
fine and very broad; and at once I spoke to them:
Young men, my suitors, since the noble Odysseus is dead,
wait, eager though you are for my marriage, until I finish
this robe — lest my weaving be wasted —
a shroud for the hero Laertes, when the deadly doom
of long-drawn death lays him low;
lest any of the Achaean women in the land resent me,
if one who has gained so much should lie without a shroud.
So I spoke, and their proud hearts were persuaded.
Then by day I wove at the great loom,
and by night I unwove it, when I had set the torches beside me.
So for three years I hid it and persuaded the Achaeans;
but when the fourth year came and the seasons came round,
as the months waned and many days were accomplished,
then at last through my maids, the shameless dogs,
they came upon me and caught me and scolded me with words.
So I finished it under compulsion, though unwilling;
but now I can neither escape the marriage nor find
any other plan; my parents strongly urge me
to marry, and my son chafes, seeing his substance
eaten away; for now he is a man, quite able
to care for the house, and Zeus grants him glory.
But even so, tell me your lineage, from where you are.
For you are not from the much-talked-of oak nor from a stone.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Lady revered, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,
will you never cease asking about my birth?
Come, I will tell you; yet truly you will give me over to more pains
than I now hold; for such is the custom, when a man
is far from his own country for as long a time as I am now,
wandering over many cities of men, suffering griefs.
But even so I will tell you what you ask and inquire about.
There is a land called Crete, in the midst of the wine-dark sea,
fair and rich, sea-girt; and in it are men
many, beyond counting, and ninety cities.
And one tongue is mixed with another; there are Achaeans,
there are great-hearted Eteocretans, there are Cydonians,
and the threefold Dorians and the noble Pelasgians.
Among these is Knossos, a great city, where Minos
ruled as a nine-year king, the confidant of great Zeus,
the father of my father, great-hearted Deucalion.
And Deucalion begot me and King Idomeneus.
But he went with the curved ships to Ilion
along with the Atreidae, and my glorious name is Aethon,
younger in birth; but he was older and better.
There I saw Odysseus and gave him guest-gifts.
For the force of the wind brought him down to Crete,
as he was bound for Troy, driving him off course past Malea;
and he anchored at Amnisos, where the cave of Eileithyia is,
in difficult harbours, and hardly did he escape the storm.
At once I went up to the city and asked for Idomeneus;
for he said that he was a dear and honoured friend of his.
But it was already the tenth or eleventh dawn
since he had gone with the curved ships to Ilion.
Him I led to my house and entertained well,
loving him kindly, since there was plenty in the house;
and to him and the other comrades who followed with him
I gave barley from the public stores and gleaming wine, gathering it,
and cattle to sacrifice, so that they might fill their hearts.
There the noble Achaeans stayed twelve days;
for the great North Wind held them, nor on the land
would it let them stand, and some harsh god roused it.
On the thirteenth day the wind fell, and they put out to sea.
And he made many falsehoods, speaking them like the truth;
and as she listened the tears flowed, and her flesh melted away;
as snow melts upon the high-crested mountains,
which the East Wind melts, when the West Wind pours it down,
and as it melts the rivers run full in their flowing;
so her fair cheeks melted as she poured out tears,
weeping for her husband who sat beside her. But Odysseus
in his heart pitied his weeping wife,
but his eyes stood like horn or iron,
unmoving beneath his lids; and by cunning he hid his tears.
And when she had taken her fill of much-lamented weeping,
then again she answered him with words and said:
Now truly, stranger, I think I shall test you,
whether you truly entertained there in your halls my husband
with his godlike comrades, as you say.
Tell me what clothing he wore about his body,
and what he himself was like, and the comrades who followed with him.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Lady, it is hard, being apart for so long a time,
to tell it; for already it is the twentieth year
since he went from there and left my country.
But I will tell you as it appears to my heart.
A purple mantle, shaggy, the noble Odysseus wore,
double-folded; and a brooch for it was made of gold
with double sheaths; and on the front there was a cunning device:
in his forepaws a dog held a dappled fawn,
gripping it as it struggled; and all marvelled at it,
how, though they were of gold, the one gripped and throttled the fawn,
while the other struggled with its feet, eager to escape.
And I marked the tunic upon his body, shining,
like the skin of a dried onion;
so soft it was, and it shone like the sun;
indeed many women marvelled at it.
And another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:
I do not know whether Odysseus wore these about his body at home,
or some comrade gave them to him as he set out on the swift ship,
or some stranger, since Odysseus was dear
to many; for few of the Achaeans were like him.
And I gave him a bronze sword and a double cloak,
fair and purple, and a fringed tunic,
and I sent him off with honour on the well-benched ship.
And a herald followed him, a little older than himself;
and him too I will tell you what he was like.
Round-shouldered, dark-skinned, curly-haired,
Eurybates was his name; and Odysseus honoured him above the others
of his comrades, because he knew what was fitting in his heart.
So he spoke, and roused in her yet more desire for weeping,
as she recognised the sure tokens that Odysseus had told her.
And when she had taken her fill of much-lamented weeping,
then she answered him with words and said:
Now truly, stranger, though before you were pitiable,
in my halls you shall be dear and honoured;
for I myself gave those clothes, which you describe,
folding them from the chamber, and I put on the shining brooch
to be a delight to him; but I shall not welcome him again
coming home to his dear native land.
Therefore with an evil fate Odysseus went on the hollow ship
to look upon evil Ilion, not to be named.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Lady revered, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,
no longer now destroy your fair flesh, nor melt your heart
away, weeping for your husband. I do not blame you at all;
for any woman weeps for a husband she has lost,
a wedded one, to whom she bore children in love,
even for Odysseus, whom they say is like the gods.
But cease from weeping, and hear my word;
for I will tell you truly and will not conceal it,
how I have already heard of the return of Odysseus
close by, in the rich land of the Thesprotian men,
that he lives; and he is bringing many good treasures,
gathering them by begging through the land. But his trusty comrades
he lost, and the hollow ship, in the wine-dark sea,
coming from the island of Thrinacia; for Zeus and Helios
were angry with him; for his comrades killed the cattle of Helios.
They all perished in the much-surging sea;
but him the wave cast up on the keel of the ship onto dry land,
to the land of the Phaeacians, who are near to the gods,
who honoured him from their hearts like a god
and gave him many gifts, and themselves wished to send him
home unharmed. And Odysseus would have been here long ago;
but that seemed to him in his heart to be more profitable,
to gather wealth as he went over much land;
so greatly does Odysseus know the many gains of mortal men,
nor could any other mortal strive with him.
So the king of the Thesprotians, Pheidon, told me;
and he swore to me himself, pouring a libation in his house,
that the ship was drawn down and the crew ready,
who would send him to his dear native land.
But he sent me away first; for a ship happened to be coming
of Thesprotian men to Dulichium, rich in wheat.
And he showed me the treasure, all that Odysseus had gathered;
and it would feed another to the tenth generation,
so much treasure of the king lay in his halls.
And he said that he had gone to Dodona, so that from the god's
oak of Zeus with its high foliage he might hear the counsel,
how he should return to his dear native land,
having been away so long already, whether openly or in secret.
So he is thus safe and will come here now,
very near, and no longer far from his friends and his native land
will he be long away; and yet I will give you oaths.
Let Zeus be my witness now, first of the gods, highest and best,
and the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have reached;
truly all this will be accomplished as I speak.
Within this very waxing of the year Odysseus will come here,
as this month wanes and the next begins.
Then the wise Penelope answered him and said:
Ah, if only, stranger, that word were accomplished!
Then you would soon know friendship and many gifts
from me, so that whoever met you would call you blessed.
But my heart forebodes this, how it will be:
that Odysseus will no longer come home, nor will you
get an escort, since there are no such men as guides in the house
as Odysseus was among men, if ever he existed,
to send honoured strangers away and to welcome them.
But come, maids, wash him, and set up a bed for him,
bedding and blankets and shining rugs,
so that he may come to golden-throned Dawn warm and well.
And at dawn, very early, wash him and anoint him with oil,
so that he may sit within beside Telemachus and take thought of the meal,
sitting in the hall; and it will go worse for whoever
of those men grieves this man with heart-destroying words; and no work
will he do here any longer, however terribly angry he may be.
For how shall you learn from me, stranger, whether I surpass
the other women in mind and prudent counsel,
if you dine in my halls unwashed and clad in foul clothing?
And men are short-lived creatures.
He who is harsh himself and knows harsh thoughts,
all mortals curse him with sorrows for the time to come
while he lives, and when he is dead they all mock him.
But he who is blameless himself and knows blameless thoughts,
strangers carry his wide fame
over all men, and many call him a good man.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Lady revered, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,
truly to me cloaks and shining rugs
have been hateful, ever since I first left the snowy mountains
of Crete, going on a long-oared ship,
and I lie down as I used to lie through sleepless nights;
for many nights I have spent on an unseemly bed
and waited for the fair-throned shining Dawn.
Nor does a footbath of feet that pleases my heart
come to me; nor shall any woman touch my foot
of those who are your serving women in the house,
unless there is some old woman, knowing sound things,
who has endured in her heart as much as I have;
I would not begrudge her touching my feet.
Then the wise Penelope answered him and said:
Dear stranger, for never yet has any sensible man
of far-off friends come to my house
as you so graciously speak all things with wisdom.
I have an old woman who holds prudent counsels in her heart,
who once nursed that unhappy man well and cherished him,
receiving him in her arms when his mother first bore him;
she shall wash your feet, though she is feeble now.
But come now, arise, wise Eurycleia,
wash your master's age-mate; and perhaps Odysseus
is already like this in his feet and like this in his hands;
for in misery men quickly grow old.
So she spoke, and the old woman covered her face with her hands,
and shed warm tears, and spoke a doleful word:
Oh, woe is me for you, child, helpless as I am; truly Zeus
has hated you, though you had a god-fearing heart.
For never yet has any mortal gladdened Zeus who delights in thunder
with so much rich thigh-bone and chosen hecatombs
as you gave him, praying that you might reach a sleek
old age and raise a glorious son;
but now he has taken from you alone the day of your return.
So too, I suppose, women mocked that man
when he came to anyone's glorious house, a far-off stranger,
just as these dogs here all mock you;
and avoiding their abuse and much shame,
you do not let them wash you; but the daughter of Icarius,
the wise Penelope, has ordered me, and not against my will.
So I will wash your feet both for Penelope's sake
and for your sake, since my heart within me is stirred
by cares. But come now, mark the word that I shall speak:
many long-suffering strangers have come here,
but never yet, I say, have I seen anyone so like
as you are like Odysseus in body and voice and feet.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Old woman, so say all who have seen us both
with their own eyes, that we are very like each other,
as you yourself in your prudence say.
So he spoke; and the old woman took the shining basin
and began washing his feet; and she poured in much
cold water, then stirred in hot. But Odysseus
sat by the hearth, and quickly turned toward the darkness;
for suddenly in his heart he suspected that, taking hold of him,
she might notice the scar and the matter become plain.
She came near and washed her master; and at once she knew
the scar, which a boar had once struck with its white tusk
when he went to Parnassus to Autolycus and his sons,
his mother's noble father, who surpassed men
in thievery and in oaths; and the god himself had given him this,
Hermes; for to him he burned acceptable thigh-bones
of lambs and kids; and the god attended him willingly.
And Autolycus came to the rich land of Ithaca
and found a new-born child of his daughter;
and Eurycleia laid him on the dear knees
as he was finishing his supper, and spoke a word and named him:
Autolycus, do you yourself now find a name to give
to your dear daughter's child; he is much prayed for.
Then Autolycus answered her and spoke:
My son-in-law and my daughter, give him whatever name I say;
for I have come here having angered many,
men and women too, over the much-nourishing earth;
so let his name be Odysseus, the name of odium; and I myself,
when he grows up into manhood and comes
to his mother's great house at Parnassus, where my treasures are,
I will give him them and send him away glad.
For this reason Odysseus came, so that he might receive the glorious gifts.
Then Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus
welcomed him with their hands and with gentle words;
and his mother Amphithea, clinging to the mother of Odysseus,
kissed him on the head and on both his fair eyes.
And Autolycus called to his glorious sons
to prepare a feast; and they heard him urging them on,
and at once they brought in a bull, male and five years old;
they flayed it and dressed it, and cut it all up,
and chopped it skillfully and fixed the pieces on spits,
and roasted it carefully, and divided the portions.
So then all day long until the setting of the sun
they feasted, and their heart lacked nothing of the equal feast;
and when the sun set and darkness came on,
then they lay down and took the gift of sleep.
And when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
they went off to the hunt, both the dogs and the sons
of Autolycus themselves; and with them the noble Odysseus
went; and they came up the steep mountain, clothed in forest,
of Parnassus, and soon reached its windy folds.
And the Sun was then just striking the fields anew
from the softly flowing, deep-flowing Ocean,
and the hunters came into a glen; and before them
the dogs went, tracking the steps, and behind them
the sons of Autolycus; and with them the noble Odysseus
went close to the hounds, brandishing a far-shadowing spear.
There in a thick thicket a great boar lay couched;
this place neither the wet fury of the blowing winds
could pass through, nor did the shining Sun strike it with its rays,
nor did the rain pass through; so dense it was,
and there was a heap of fallen leaves, abundantly deep.
Then the noise of the feet of men and dogs came around it,
as they pressed on toward it; and the boar came out of the thicket to face them,
its bristles raised well along its back, glaring fire with its eyes,
and it stood close to them; and Odysseus, first of all,
rushed forward, raising the long spear in his stout hand,
eager to wound it; but the boar got in first and struck him
above the knee, and ripped off much flesh with its tusk,
leaping sideways, but it did not reach the man's bone.
And Odysseus struck it, hitting it on the right shoulder,
and the point of the shining spear went straight through;
and it fell in the dust with a groan, and its spirit flew away.
Then the dear sons of Autolycus attended to it,
and the wound of the blameless, godlike Odysseus
they bound skillfully, and with a charm they stopped the dark blood,
and quickly they came to the house of his dear father.
Then Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus,
having healed him well and given him glorious gifts,
sent him away gladly and swiftly to his native land,
to Ithaca. And his father and queenly mother
rejoiced at his return and asked him about everything,
and about the scar and how he came by it; and he told them well
how the boar had struck him as he hunted with its white tusk,
when he had gone to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.
This the old woman took in her hands, palms flat,
and knew it as she felt it, and let the foot fall;
and the shin fell into the basin, and the bronze rang out,
and it tipped back the other way; and the water poured out on the ground.
Then joy and grief seized her heart at once, and her two eyes
filled with tears, and her full voice was checked.
She touched his chin and spoke to Odysseus:
Truly you are Odysseus, dear child; and I did not recognise you
before, until I had touched all of my master.
So she spoke, and looked with her eyes at Penelope,
wishing to tell her that her dear husband was within.
But she could neither look at her face to face nor notice her;
for Athena had turned her mind; but Odysseus
felt for her throat and seized it with his right hand,
and with the other drew her closer to himself and spoke:
Nurse, why do you wish to destroy me? You yourself nursed me
at your own breast; and now, after suffering many sorrows,
I have come in the twentieth year to my native land.
But since you have perceived it and a god put it in your heart,
be silent, lest any other in the halls learn of it.
For I will tell you this, and it will surely be accomplished:
if a god subdues the proud suitors under me,
I will not hold back from you, though you are my nurse, when I
kill the other women slaves in my halls.
Then the wise Eurycleia answered him and said:
My child, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth!
You know how firm and unyielding my spirit is,
and I will hold it like solid stone or iron.
And another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:
if a god subdues the proud suitors under you,
then I will tell you the women in the halls,
those who dishonour you and those who are blameless.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Nurse, why should you tell me of them? There is no need at all.
Well, I myself will look into it and will know each one;
but keep the matter silent, and leave it to the gods.
So he spoke, and the old woman had gone through the hall
to fetch the footbath; for all the earlier water had been spilled.
But when she had washed him and anointed him richly with oil,
again Odysseus drew his chair closer to the fire
to warm himself, and hid the scar under his rags.
Then the wise Penelope began the words among them:
Stranger, I myself will ask you a little more;
for soon will be the hour of pleasant rest,
when sweet sleep seizes a man, even one in sorrow.
But for me a god has given measureless grief;
for by day I take my pleasure in weeping and wailing,
looking at my own work and at the maids in the house;
but when night comes and sleep seizes everyone,
I lie in my bed, and thick sharp cares around my throbbing heart
stir me as I weep.
As when the daughter of Pandareus, the green-clad nightingale,
sings beautifully when spring is newly come,
sitting in the thick leaves of the trees,
who often turning about pours out her many-sounding voice,
mourning her dear child Itylus, whom once with bronze
she killed in her folly, the son of lord Zethus,
so too my heart rises in two ways, here and there,
whether I stay with my son and keep all things steadfast,
my possessions, my slaves, and my high-roofed great house,
respecting the bed of my husband and the voice of the people,
or whether I now follow whichever of the Achaeans is best
and courts me in the halls, offering countless bride-gifts.
And my son, while he was still a child and foolish,
did not let me marry, leaving my husband's house;
but now that he is grown and has reached the measure of youth,
he prays me to go back out of the hall,
chafing at the substance which the Achaeans devour.
But come, interpret my dream for me and hear it.
I have twenty geese in the house eating wheat
from the water, and I take delight in watching them;
and a great hook-beaked eagle came from the mountain
and broke all their necks and killed them; and they lay
heaped together in the halls, while he rose into the shining sky.
Then I wept and wailed, even in my dream,
and around me gathered the fair-tressed Achaean women,
as I lamented pitifully that the eagle had killed my geese.
But he came back and sat on the projecting roof-beam,
and with a human voice he restrained me and spoke:
Take courage, daughter of far-famed Icarius;
this is no dream but a good waking vision, which will be accomplished for you.
The geese are the suitors, and I, who was before a bird, an eagle,
have now come back as your husband,
who will set a shameful doom upon all the suitors.
So he spoke, and sweet sleep released me;
but I looked about and saw the geese in the halls
feeding on wheat beside the trough, where they were before.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Lady, it is in no way possible to interpret the dream
turning it aside, since Odysseus himself has shown you
how he will fulfil it; and destruction appears
to all the suitors, and none will escape death and the fates.
Then the wise Penelope answered him and said:
Stranger, dreams truly are baffling and unclear in speech,
nor does everything come true for men.
For there are two gates of shadowy dreams:
one pair is fashioned of horn, the others of ivory;
those that come through the sawn ivory,
they deceive, bearing words that are not accomplished;
but those that come out through the polished horn,
they bring true things to pass, whenever a mortal sees them.
But I do not think that my dread dream came from there;
truly it would be welcome to me and to my son.
And another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:
this hateful dawn is coming, which will keep me
away from Odysseus' house; for now I will set a contest,
those axes, which he used to set up in his own halls
in a row, like ship's props, all twelve of them;
and standing far off he used to shoot an arrow through them.
Now I will set this contest for the suitors:
whoever most easily strings the bow in his hands
and shoots an arrow through all twelve of the axes,
with him I will go, leaving this house,
my bridal home, very beautiful, full of life;
which I think I shall remember even in my dreams.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Lady revered, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,
no longer now put off this contest in the house;
for much-devising Odysseus will come here before
these men, handling this well-polished bow,
can string the string and shoot through the iron.
Then the wise Penelope answered him and said:
If you would wish, stranger, sitting beside me in the halls,
to delight me, sleep would never be poured upon my eyelids.
But it is in no way possible for men to be always
sleepless; for the immortals have set a portion for each one
of mortals upon the grain-giving earth.
But I will go up to the upper chamber
and lie down in my bed, which has been made sorrowful for me,
always drenched with my tears, ever since Odysseus
went to look upon evil Ilion, not to be named.
There I will lie down; but do you lie down in this house,
either making a bed on the ground or on the bedding they set out.
So saying she went up to the shining upper chamber,
not alone, for the other handmaids went with her.
And going up to the upper room with the women attendants,
she wept then for Odysseus, her dear husband, until
bright-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.

### Book 20

But he laid him down to sleep in the forecourt, the noble Odysseus,
and beneath him he spread a hardened oxhide, and over it
many fleeces of sheep, which the Achaeans were wont to slaughter;
and Eurynome cast a cloak over him as he lay.
There Odysseus, devising evil in his heart against the suitors,
lay wakeful; and the women out of the great hall
came forth, they who aforetime had lain with the suitors,
giving laughter and mirth to one another.
And his spirit was stirred within his own dear breast,
and much he pondered in mind and in heart,
whether he should rush upon them and deal death to each,
or suffer them yet once to lie with the proud suitors
for the last and utmost time; and his heart within him bayed.
And as a bitch standing about her tender pups,
when she knows not the man, bays and is eager for the fight,
so his heart within him bayed, as he raged at their evil deeds;
and smiting his breast he rebuked his heart with a word:
Endure now, my heart; a thing more dog-like once you endured.
On the day when the Cyclops, whose fury none might check, devoured
my stalwart comrades; yet you endured, till your cunning
brought you forth from the cave, when you deemed you should die.
So he spoke, chiding his own dear heart within his breast;
and his heart abode in obedience, enduring patiently
without ceasing; but he himself kept turning hither and thither.
And as when a man turns a paunch full of fat and blood
over a great blazing fire, this way and that,
and is very eager that it be swiftly roasted,
so he turned him this way and that, pondering
how he should lay hands upon the shameless suitors,
being but one against many. And near to him came Athena
descending from heaven; and her form she likened to a woman's;
and she stood above his head and spoke a word to him:
Why now are you awake, most wretched of all mortals?
This is your house, and here within the house is your wife
and your son, such a one as any man might long a son to be.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Yes, goddess, all this you have spoken in due measure;
but this my heart within my breast ponders,
how I shall lay hands upon the shameless suitors,
being but one; and they abide within, ever in a throng.
And moreover this yet greater thing I ponder in my heart:
if I slay them by the will of Zeus and of you,
whither shall I flee away? I bid you consider this.
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:
Stubborn one, even one man trusts a weaker comrade,
who is but mortal and knows no such counsels as these;
but I am a god, who keep you safe continually
in all your toils. And I will tell you plainly:
though fifty companies of mortal men
should compass us two about, eager to slay us in war,
even their cattle would you drive off and their sturdy sheep.
But let sleep take you also; it is a grief to keep watch
the whole night through awake, and you shall soon slip out of your troubles.
So she spoke, and poured sleep upon his eyelids,
and she herself went back to Olympus, the shining among goddesses.
But when sleep seized him, loosing the cares of his spirit,
limb-loosing sleep, his wife awoke, knowing wise things in her heart;
and she wept, sitting up amid the soft bedding.
But when she was sated with weeping in her own heart,
first of all she prayed to Artemis, the shining among women:
Artemis, lady goddess, daughter of Zeus, would that now
you would smite my breast with an arrow and take away my life
straightway, or that a storm-wind snatching me up
might bear me off along the misty pathways,
and cast me into the outpourings of the backward-flowing Ocean.
As when the storm-winds snatched away the daughters of Pandareus;
their parents the gods destroyed, and they were left
orphaned in the halls, and shining Aphrodite tended them
with cheese and sweet honey and pleasant wine;
and Hera gave them beauty beyond all women
and understanding, and holy Artemis gave them stature,
and Athena taught them to fashion glorious handiwork.
When shining Aphrodite went up to tall Olympus
to ask for the maidens the fulfilment of blossoming marriage—
to Zeus who delights in thunder, for he knows all things well,
both the portion and the no-portion of earth-dwelling men—
meanwhile the Harpies snatched away the maidens
and gave them to the hateful Erinyes to serve;
so may the holders of Olympian homes make me vanish,
or may fair-tressed Artemis smite me, that seeing Odysseus
even so I might come beneath the hateful earth,
and never gladden the mind of a lesser man.
But that evil at least is bearable, when one
weeps by day, deeply grieving in heart,
and sleep holds him by night—for it makes him forget all things,
the good alike and the evil, once it veils the eyelids—
but upon me a god has sent evil dreams also.
For this night there slept beside me one like unto him,
such as he was when he went with the host; and my heart
rejoiced, for I deemed it no dream, but waking truth.
So she spoke, and straightway golden-throned Dawn came.
And the noble Odysseus heard the voice of her weeping;
and he pondered thereafter, and it seemed to him in his heart
that she already knew him and stood at his head.
And the cloak he gathered up, and the fleeces wherein he had slept,
and laid them in the hall upon a chair, and the oxhide
he carried forth and set outside, and to Zeus he prayed with hands upraised:
Father Zeus, if willingly over the dry land and the wet
you gods have led me to my own land, though you afflicted me sorely,
let someone of the waking people utter a word for me
within, and outside let another sign of Zeus appear.
So he spoke in prayer; and wise Zeus heard him,
and straightway he thundered from gleaming Olympus,
from on high out of the clouds; and the noble Odysseus rejoiced.
And a word a woman sent forth from the house, a grinder,
hard by, where the mills of the shepherd of the people stood,
and at them twelve women in all were toiling,
preparing barley and meal, the marrow of men.
The others slept, since they had ground their wheat,
but one alone had not yet ceased, and she was the feeblest of them all;
she set her mill in place and uttered a word, a sign for the master:
Father Zeus, who are lord over gods and men,
loudly indeed you thundered from the starry sky,
and nowhere is there a cloud; you show this as a sign to someone.
Fulfil now for me also, wretched as I am, the word that I shall speak:
may the suitors on this day, their last and utmost one,
in the halls of Odysseus take their lovely dinner,
who with heart-grieving toil have loosened my knees
as I prepared their barley; now let them dine for the last time.
So she spoke, and noble Odysseus rejoiced in the omen
and in the thunder of Zeus; for he deemed that he would punish the sinners.
And the other handmaids throughout the fair halls of Odysseus
gathered and kindled on the hearth the tireless fire.
And Telemachus arose from his bed, a man like unto a god,
and put on his garments, and across his shoulder slung a sharp sword;
and beneath his shining feet he bound fair sandals,
and took a stout spear, pointed with sharp bronze;
and he stood, coming to the threshold, and to Eurycleia he said:
Dear nurse, did you honour the stranger in the house
with bed and with food, or does he lie there unheeded?
For such is my mother, understanding though she be:
at random she honours one man of mortal men,
a worse one, and sends a better away dishonoured.
Then thoughtful Eurycleia answered him:
You would not now, child, blame him who is blameless.
For he drank wine as he sat, as long as his own heart wished,
and said he was no longer hungry for food; for I questioned him.
But when he bethought him of bed and of sleep,
I bade the handmaids spread bedding beneath him,
but he, as one utterly wretched and luckless,
would not consent to sleep in a bed and under rugs,
but upon a hardened oxhide and the fleeces of sheep
he slept in the forecourt; and we threw a cloak over him.
So she spoke, and Telemachus had passed through the hall
holding his spear, and with him followed two swift dogs.
He went to the assembly place among the well-greaved Achaeans.
And she in turn called to her handmaids, the shining among women,
Eurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor:
Bestir yourselves; do some of you sweep the house with bustling haste,
and sprinkle it, and on the well-wrought chairs spread
purple rugs; and others with sponges wipe
all the tables, and cleanse the mixing bowls
and the well-fashioned two-handled cups; and others go
to the spring for water, and bring it back with speed.
For not for long will the suitors be away from the hall,
but very early will they come, since there is a feast for all.
So she spoke, and they heard her and obeyed.
Twenty of them went to the dark-watered spring,
and the others worked with skill about the house.
And the labourers of the Achaeans came in. Then they
split wood well and with skill, and the women
came back from the spring; and upon them came the swineherd
driving three fat hogs, which were the best among all.
And he let them feed throughout the fair pens,
and he himself in turn addressed Odysseus with gentle words:
Stranger, do the Achaeans now look upon you with more respect,
or do they dishonour you in the hall, as heretofore?
Then much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Eumaeus, would that the gods would avenge the outrage
which these men in their insolence recklessly contrive
in another's house, and have no share in shame.
So they spoke such words to one another,
and close at hand came Melanthius, the goatherd of goats,
bringing goats that were pre-eminent among all the herds,
as a dinner for the suitors. And two herdsmen followed with him.
And he tied them beneath the echoing portico,
and he himself in turn addressed Odysseus with mocking words:
Stranger, will you still now vex us here throughout the house,
begging from men, and will you not go forth outside?
In any case I think the two of us shall no more be parted
before we taste each other's hands, since you beg
not according to order; and there are other feasts of the Achaeans too.
So he spoke, and him much-devising Odysseus did not address at all,
but in silence shook his head, brooding evils deep within.
And third after them came Philoetius, leader of men,
bringing for the suitors a barren cow and fat goats.
And ferrymen had brought them over, the very men who also send
other people across, whoever comes to them.
And these he tied well beneath the echoing portico,
and he himself in turn questioned the swineherd, standing close beside him:
Who is this stranger who has newly come, swineherd,
to our house? And from what men does he claim
to be sprung? And where are his birth and his native land?
Wretched man, yet in body he is like a king, a lord;
but the gods plunge into misery men of much wandering,
whensoever they spin out sorrow even for kings.
He spoke, and with his right hand he greeted him as he stood beside him,
and he addressed him and spoke winged words:
Hail, father stranger; may there be for you hereafter
prosperity; but now at least you are held by many troubles.
Father Zeus, no other of the gods is more ruinous than you:
you do not pity men, once you yourself have begotten them,
to be mingled with wickedness and wretched griefs.
I broke into sweat, as I marked it, and my two eyes were filled with tears
as I remembered Odysseus, for I deem that even he
wanders among men wearing such rags as these,
if anywhere he still lives and beholds the light of the sun.
But if he is already dead and in the halls of Hades,
ah me, then, for blameless Odysseus, who set me over the cattle
while I was still a little one, in the land of the Cephallenians.
But now they grow past telling, and no man otherwise
could get such increase of the race of broad-browed cattle;
but others bid me bring them in for themselves
to eat; and they care nothing in the halls for the son,
nor do they tremble at the vengeance of the gods; for already they are eager
to divide the possessions of the long-departed lord.
But my own heart in my dear breast
turns this over many times: it is a great evil, while a son lives,
to come to the land of others, going with the cattle themselves,
to men of alien speech; but it is more chilling still, remaining here
and sitting over the cattle of others to suffer griefs.
And long since I would have come to some other of the over-mighty kings,
fleeing from here, since these things are no longer bearable;
but still I think of that wretched man, if from somewhere he might come
and make a scattering of the suitors throughout the halls.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Cowherd, since you seem neither a base man nor a foolish one,
and I myself perceive that understanding has come to your mind,
therefore I will tell you, and I will swear a great oath upon it:
let Zeus first of the gods be witness, and the table of hospitality
and the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have reached:
truly Odysseus will come home while you are here;
and with your own eyes you shall behold, if you are willing,
the suitors being slain, who here hold lordship.
Then the cowherd of the cattle answered him:
Would that, stranger, the son of Cronos would fulfil this word!
Then you would know what my strength is and what my hands can do.
So likewise Eumaeus prayed to all the gods
that wise-hearted Odysseus might return to this house.
So they spoke such words to one another,
but the suitors were preparing death and doom for Telemachus;
yet an omen bird came to them on the left,
an eagle flying on high, and it held a trembling dove.
And among them Amphinomus spoke and addressed them:
Friends, this counsel at least shall not be brought to pass for us,
the slaughter of Telemachus; but let us bethink us of the feast.
So spoke Amphinomus, and his word pleased them.
And they came into the halls of godlike Odysseus
and laid down their cloaks along the benches and the chairs,
and they slaughtered great sheep and fat goats,
and slaughtered fat hogs and a cow of the herd;
and the innards they roasted and distributed, and wine
they mixed in the mixing bowls; and the cups the swineherd dealt out.
And bread Philoetius served out to them, leader of men,
in fair baskets, and Melanthius poured the wine.
And they flung their hands upon the ready food that lay before them.
And Telemachus seated Odysseus, handling shrewd counsels,
within the well-founded hall, beside the stone threshold,
setting down a mean stool and a little table;
and beside him he set portions of the innards, and poured wine
into a golden cup, and spoke a word to him:
Sit here now among the men and drink your wine;
and from taunts, I myself will keep you, and from their hands,
from all the suitors, since it is no public man's
house, this, but Odysseus', and he won it for me.
But you, suitors, restrain your hearts from abuse
and from your hands, lest some strife and quarrel arise.
So he spoke, and all of them, biting their lips with their teeth,
marvelled at Telemachus, that he spoke so boldly.
And among them Antinous spoke, son of Eupeithes:
Harsh though it be, let us accept the word, you Achaeans,
from Telemachus; for with great threats he speaks before us.
For Zeus the son of Cronos did not suffer it; else we would by now
have stopped him in the halls, clear-voiced speaker though he be.
So spoke Antinous; but he paid no heed to their words.
And heralds through the town were leading the holy hecatomb of the gods;
and the long-haired Achaeans gathered
beneath the shady grove of far-shooting Apollo.
And when they had roasted the upper flesh and drawn it off,
dividing the portions they feasted on a glorious feast;
and beside Odysseus those who served set a portion
equal, as their own lot had given them; for so had ordered
Telemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus.
But the haughty suitors Athena did not suffer at all
to refrain from heart-grieving outrage, so that yet the more
grief might enter the heart of Odysseus, son of Laertes.
Now there was a man among the suitors who knew lawless things,
Ctesippus was his name, and in Same he dwelt in a house;
who, trusting in his possessions, marvellous beyond words,
was wooing the wife of Odysseus long absent from home.
He then addressed the overweening suitors:
Hear me, haughty suitors, that I may say a word:
a portion the stranger has long had, as is seemly,
an equal one; for it is not fair to stint, nor just,
the guests of Telemachus, whoever comes to this house.
But come, let me also give him a guest-gift, so that he himself
may give it as a gift of honour to the bath-pourer or to some other
of the slaves who are throughout the halls of godlike Odysseus.
So he spoke and hurled an ox's foot with his stout hand,
taking it from the basket where it lay; but Odysseus dodged it,
leaning his head gently aside, and he smiled in his heart
a very sardonic smile; and it struck the well-built wall.
And Ctesippus Telemachus rebuked with a word:
Ctesippus, truly this thing has turned out better for your heart—
you did not strike the stranger; for he dodged the missile himself.
For I would have struck you in the middle with my sharp spear,
and instead of a wedding your father would have busied himself with a grave
here. Therefore let no one show me unseemly deeds in the house;
for already I mark and know each thing,
the good alike and the worse; but before I was still a child.
Yet even so we have endured these things, looking on,
while sheep are slain and wine is drunk
and bread; for it is hard for one man to hold back many.
But come, no longer work me evil in your hostility;
and if you are now eager to slay me myself with bronze,
even that would I wish, and it would be far better
to be dead than ever to behold these unseemly deeds,
strangers being roughly handled and slave women
dragged shamefully throughout the fair halls.
So he spoke, and all of them became hushed in silence;
and at last Agelaus, son of Damastor, addressed them:
Friends, no one, surely, would be angry at a word justly spoken,
finding fault with it in words of opposition;
neither roughly handle the stranger, nor any other
of the slaves who are throughout the halls of godlike Odysseus.
And to Telemachus and to his mother I would speak
a gentle word, if it should please the heart of them both.
As long as your heart in your breasts hoped
that wise-hearted Odysseus would return to this house,
so long was there no blame in awaiting and in restraining
the suitors throughout the halls, since this was the better course,
in case Odysseus returned and came back to the house;
but now this is clear, that he is no longer one to return.
But come, sit beside your mother and tell her this,
to wed whoever is the best man and offers the most gifts,
so that you may rejoicing enjoy all your father's possessions,
eating and drinking, and she may keep the house of another.
And prudent Telemachus answered him in turn:
No, by Zeus, Agelaus, and by the griefs of my father,
who somewhere far from Ithaca has perished or is wandering,
I do not delay my mother's marriage, but I bid her
wed whomever she may wish, and beside that I give countless gifts.
But I am ashamed to drive her from the hall against her will
with a compelling word; may a god not bring that to pass.
So spoke Telemachus; but among the suitors Pallas Athena
roused unquenchable laughter, and bewildered their minds.
And they were already laughing with jaws that were not their own,
and they were eating flesh gory with blood; and their eyes
were filled with tears, and their heart divined lamentation.
And among them godlike Theoclymenus addressed them:
Ah, wretches, what evil is this that you suffer? Night has wrapped
your heads and your faces and your knees beneath.
Lamentation blazes, and your cheeks are wet with tears,
and with blood are besprinkled the walls and the fair cross-beams;
the porch is full of phantoms, and full too is the courtyard,
as they rush down to Erebos beneath the darkness; and the sun
has perished out of the sky, and an evil mist has stolen over it.
So he spoke, and all of them laughed sweetly at him.
And among them Eurymachus, the son of Polybus, began to speak:
The stranger who has newly come from elsewhere is raving.
But quickly, you young men, send him out of the house to the door,
to go to the assembly place, since this resembles night.
Then godlike Theoclymenus answered him:
Eurymachus, I do not bid you to furnish escorts for me;
I have eyes and ears and both my feet
and a mind in my breast fashioned with nothing unseemly.
With these I will go forth outside, since I see an evil for you
coming, which no one of the suitors could escape or avoid,
who throughout the house of godlike Odysseus
in your insolence contrive reckless things against men.
So he spoke and went forth from the well-inhabited house,
and came to Peiraeus, who gladly received him.
And all the suitors, looking at one another,
kept provoking Telemachus, laughing over the strangers;
and thus would one of the overweening young men speak:
Telemachus, no one else is a worse host to guests than you;
what a sort of fellow is this you keep, a vagabond to be sought in vain,
in want of bread and wine, and with no skill in works
nor in strength, but merely a burden of the ploughland.
And here is another who has risen up to prophesy.
But if you would listen to me in something, it would be far better:
casting these strangers into a many-benched ship,
let us send them to the Sicels, from where something worth its price might come to you.
So spoke the suitors; but he paid no heed to their words,
but in silence kept gazing at his father, ever awaiting
the moment when he would lay hands upon the shameless suitors.
And she, having set a very beautiful chair facing them,
the daughter of Icarius, thoughtful Penelope,
heard the word of each of the men in the halls.
For their dinner, at least, they had made with laughter,
sweet and satisfying, since they had sacrificed many beasts;
but no supper could ever have come to be more thankless
than that which the goddess and the mighty man were soon to set before them;
for they had been the first to contrive unseemly things.

### Book 21

And the bright-eyed goddess Athene put it in her mind,
the daughter of Icarius, circumspect Penelope,
to set the bow and the grey iron before the suitors
in the halls of Odysseus, a contest and the beginning of slaughter.
She climbed the high stairway of her own house,
and took in her stout hand a well-bent key,
a lovely key of bronze, and its handle was of ivory.
She went to the innermost chamber with her handmaiden women,
where the treasures of the lord lay stored,
bronze and gold and iron wrought with much toil.
There lay the back-bent bow and the quiver,
the arrow-holder, and within were many groaning shafts,
gifts that a guest had given him in Lacedaemon,
Iphitus the son of Eurytus, like unto the immortals.
The two had met each other in Messene,
in the house of warlike Ortilochus. Odysseus
had come for a debt that all the people owed him;
for Messenian men had lifted from Ithaca
three hundred sheep in their many-benched ships, and the herdsmen with them.
For their sake Odysseus went on that long journey,
being still a boy; his father sent him forth, and the other elders too.
And Iphitus, seeking the horses that were lost to him,
twelve mares, and the mules that labour under the yoke;
and these thereafter became his death and his doom,
when he came to the strong-hearted son of Zeus,
Heracles, a man acquainted with great deeds,
who slew him, though he was his guest, in his own house,
the ruthless one, and reverenced neither the wrath of the gods nor the table
that he had set before him; and thereafter he slew him too,
and kept the strong-hoofed horses in his halls himself.
Seeking these, Iphitus met Odysseus and gave him the bow,
which great Eurytus had carried before, and he left it to his son
when he died, in his high-roofed halls.
And to him Odysseus gave a sharp sword and a mighty spear,
the beginning of a kindly guest-friendship; yet at the table
the two never knew each other; for before that the son of Zeus had slain
Iphitus the son of Eurytus, like unto the immortals,
who had given him the bow. And never did noble Odysseus
take it with him when he went to war on the black ships,
but it lay there in his halls, a memorial of a dear guest-friend,
and he bore it only in his own land.
And when she, the shining among women, came to that chamber
and stepped upon the oaken threshold, which a craftsman once
had smoothed with skill and trued to the line,
and set the doorposts in it and hung the shining doors,
straightway she quickly loosed the thong from the hook,
and put in the key, and struck back the bolts of the doors,
aiming straight before her; and they bellowed as a bull
bellows, grazing in a meadow; so bellowed the lovely doors
struck by the key, and they flew open swiftly.
And she stepped up on the high platform, where the chests
stood, and fragrant garments lay within them.
Thence she reached out and took the bow from its peg,
together with its case, that shone all about it.
Sitting down there she laid it upon her dear knees,
and wept very shrilly, and took up the bow of the lord.
But when she had had her fill of much-weeping lamentation,
she went to the hall among the proud suitors,
holding in her hand the back-bent bow and the quiver,
the arrow-holder; and many groaning shafts were within.
And her handmaidens carried a box, wherein iron
lay in abundance, and bronze, the prizes of the lord.
And when she, the shining among women, came to the suitors,
she stood beside the doorpost of the well-built roof,
holding her shining headband before her cheeks.
And a trusty handmaiden stood beside her on either side.
Straightway she spoke to the suitors and uttered a word:
"Hear me, bold suitors, who by your endless eating
and drinking have worn down this house,
since the man has been gone a long time; and no other
excuse for your words could you fashion,
except that you desired to marry me and make me your wife.
Come then, suitors, since this contest is set before you.
For I will set out the great bow of godlike Odysseus;
and whoever strings it most easily in his hands
and shoots through all the twelve axes,
him will I follow, forsaking this house,
my marriage house, exceeding lovely, full of livelihood,
which I think I shall remember even in a dream."
So she spoke, and she commanded Eumaeus, the noble swineherd,
to set the bow and the grey iron before the suitors.
And Eumaeus took them weeping and laid them down;
the cowherd wept too, when he beheld the bow of the lord.
And Antinous rebuked them and spoke and called them by name:
"Foolish country folk, whose minds are only for the day,
ah, wretches, why do you let tears fall and stir up
the heart within her breast? Her heart already
lies amid sorrows, since she lost her dear husband.
But sit and feast in silence, or go forth
and weep outside, leaving the bow here,
an unbroken contest for the suitors; for I do not think
that this well-polished bow is easily strung.
For there is no such man among all these here
as Odysseus was; and I myself have looked upon him,
for I am mindful of him, though I was still a young child."
So he spoke, but in his breast his heart hoped
to string the bowstring and shoot through the iron.
Truly he was destined to be the first to taste the arrow
from the hands of blameless Odysseus, whom he then dishonoured
as he sat in the halls, and roused up all his companions.
And to them sacred Telemachus' strength also spoke:
"Ah me, surely Zeus the son of Cronos has made me foolish!
My own dear mother tells me, wise though she is,
that she will follow another and forsake this house;
yet I laugh and take delight in my foolish heart.
Come then, suitors, since this contest is set before you,
since there is no woman now in the land of Achaea,
neither in holy Pylos nor in Argos nor in Mycenae,
nor in Ithaca itself nor on the dark mainland;
and you yourselves know this; why must I praise my mother?
Come, do not put me off with delays, nor any longer
turn away from the stringing of the bow, that we may see.
And I myself could make trial of this bow;
for if I string it and shoot through the iron,
then my honoured mother would not, grieving for me, forsake these halls
to go with another, when I am left behind
able now to take up my father's glorious prizes."
He spoke, and straightway took the purple cloak from his shoulders,
springing up, and took the sharp sword from his shoulders.
First he set up the axes, after digging one long trench
for them all, and trued it to a line,
and heaped the earth about it; wonder seized all who beheld,
so deftly he set them; before that he had never seen it done.
He went and stood upon the threshold and made trial of the bow.
Three times he shook it, eager to draw it,
three times he let his strength rest, hoping in his heart
to string the bowstring and shoot through the iron.
And now he would have strung it, drawing with force the fourth time,
but Odysseus shook his head and held him back, eager as he was.
And again sacred Telemachus' strength spoke among them:
"Ah me, verily I shall be a coward and a weakling,
or I am too young and do not yet trust my hands
to beat off a man when someone first shows anger.
Come then, you who are stronger than I in force,
make trial of the bow, and let us finish the contest."
So speaking, he set the bow down on the ground away from him,
leaning it against the close-jointed polished panels,
and leaned the swift arrow against the lovely horn tip,
and sat down again on the chair from which he had risen.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them:
"Rise up in order, all you companions, from the right,
beginning from the place where he pours the wine."
So spoke Antinous, and his word pleased them.
And Leiodes rose up first, the son of Oenops,
who was their diviner, and beside the lovely mixing bowl
he ever sat in the innermost corner; and reckless deeds alone
were hateful to him, and he was indignant with all the suitors.
He then first took up the bow and the swift arrow.
He went and stood upon the threshold and made trial of the bow,
but he did not string it; for his hands grew weary first from drawing,
untrained and soft; and then he spoke among the suitors:
"Friends, I cannot string it; let another take it.
For this bow will rob many of the best men
of spirit and of life, since it is far better
to die than to live and miss the thing for which
we gather here always, waiting every day.
Now indeed someone hopes in his heart and longs
to marry Penelope, the wife of Odysseus.
But when he has made trial of the bow and seen it,
then let him woo some other of the well-robed Achaean women
with gifts, seeking her; and she thereafter
may marry whoever gives the most and comes as her appointed fate.
So he spoke, and set the bow down from him,
leaning it against the close-jointed polished panels,
and leaned the swift arrow against the lovely horn tip,
and sat down again on the chair from which he had risen.
And Antinous rebuked him and spoke and called him by name:
"Leiodes, what manner of word has escaped the fence of your teeth,
dreadful and grievous — and I am angered to hear it —
if this bow will rob the best men
of spirit and of life, because you cannot string it.
For your honoured mother did not bear you
to be a stringer of a bow and a shooter of arrows;
but other proud suitors will string it soon."
So he spoke, and commanded Melanthius, the goatherd of goats:
"Come now, Melanthius, kindle a fire in the halls,
and set a great chair beside it and a fleece upon it,
and bring out a great wheel of fat from what is within,
that we young men, warming it and smearing it with grease,
may make trial of the bow and finish the contest."
So he spoke, and Melanthius quickly kindled the tireless fire,
and brought and set a chair beside it and a fleece upon it,
and brought out a great wheel of fat from what was within;
with it the young men warmed and tried the bow; but they could not
string it, for they were far too short of strength.
Yet Antinous held back, and godlike Eurymachus,
the leaders of the suitors; they were far the best in valour.
And the two went out of the house together,
the cowherd and the swineherd of godlike Odysseus;
and noble Odysseus himself came out of the house after them.
But when they were outside the doors and the courtyard,
he spoke to them and addressed them with gentle words:
"Cowherd, and you, swineherd, shall I tell you a word,
or keep it hidden myself? My heart urges me to speak.
What manner of men would you be to defend Odysseus, if he came from somewhere
here so very suddenly, and some god brought him?
Would you defend the suitors or Odysseus?
Say it as your heart and spirit command you."
And the keeper of cattle answered him:
"Father Zeus, if only you would fulfil this wish,
that that man might come, and some god lead him hither;
then would you know what strength is mine and what my hands can do."
And in like manner Eumaeus prayed to all the gods
that wise Odysseus might return to this house.
But when he had read their mind as true,
he answered them again and spoke:
"Here am I myself, within — I, who have suffered many troubles,
have come to my homeland in the twentieth year.
I know that I have come to you two alone of the servants as men who long for me;
for of the others I have heard no one
praying that I might come back home again.
And to you two, as it shall be, I will tell the truth.
If a god subdues the proud suitors beneath me,
I will bring wives for both of you and give you possessions
and houses built near my own; and thereafter
you two shall be companions and brothers to Telemachus.
But come now, I will show you another sign most clear,
that you may know me well and be persuaded in your heart:
the scar, which a boar once struck with its white tusk
when I went to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus."
So speaking, he drew the rags from the great scar.
And when the two beheld it and marked each thing well,
they wept and cast their arms about wise Odysseus,
and kissed his head and his shoulders in welcome,
and in like manner Odysseus kissed their heads and hands.
And the light of the sun would have set upon them as they wailed,
had not Odysseus himself restrained them and spoken:
"Cease from weeping and wailing, lest someone see
and come out of the hall and tell the others within.
But go in one after another, not all together,
I first, then you; and let this be the sign:
for all the others, as many as are proud suitors,
will not suffer me to be given the bow and the quiver;
but you, noble Eumaeus, carry the bow through the halls
and place it in my hands, and tell the women
to lock the close-fitting doors of the hall;
and if anyone hears groaning or a din within
among our men inside the walls, let none
come forth, but let her stay quiet there at her work.
And to you, noble Philoetius, I command
to lock the doors of the courtyard with the key, and swiftly tie the fastening."
So speaking he went into the well-built house;
he went and sat down on the chair from which he had risen;
and the two servants also went into the house of godlike Odysseus.
And Eurymachus was already handling the bow in his hands,
warming it this way and that at the flame of the fire; but even so
he could not string it, and he groaned greatly in his proud heart.
Troubled, he spoke a word and said and called him by name:
"Ah me, grief is mine for myself and for all of us.
I do not grieve so much for the marriage, troubled though I am;
for there are many other Achaean women, some in Ithaca itself
ringed by the sea, and others in other cities;
but if we are so far short of strength
compared with godlike Odysseus, since we cannot string
the bow — a disgrace even for those to come to hear of."
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:
"Eurymachus, it shall not be so; you know it yourself.
For now throughout the land is the holy feast of the god;
who then would string a bow? But set it quietly
down; and let us let all the axes stand there too;
for I do not think anyone will carry them off,
coming into the hall of Laertes' son Odysseus.
Come then, let the wine-pourer begin the offering with the cups,
that after pouring a libation we may set down the curved bows;
and at dawn bid Melanthius, the goatherd of goats,
bring goats, which stand far out above all his herds,
that we may set thigh pieces before Apollo, famed with the bow,
and make trial of the bow and finish the contest."
So spoke Antinous, and his word pleased them.
And heralds poured water over their hands,
and young men filled the mixing bowls with drink,
and served it to all, after the first offering, with cups.
And when they had poured and drunk as much as their heart desired,
then Odysseus of many wiles spoke among them with a crafty mind:
"Hear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,
that I may say what my heart in my breast commands me.
Eurymachus above all I beseech, and godlike Antinous,
since he has spoken this word also in season:
to stop the bow for now, and leave it to the gods;
at dawn the god will give victory to whomsoever he wishes.
But come, give me the polished bow, that among you
I may make trial of my hands and my strength, whether there is still
the force that once was in my supple limbs,
or whether wandering and neglect have already destroyed it."
So he spoke, and they were all exceedingly indignant,
fearing that he might string the polished bow.
And Antinous rebuked him and spoke and called him by name:
"Ah, wretch of a stranger, your wits are not sound within you!
Are you not content that you feast in peace among us proud men,
and are not stinted of the feast, but you listen
to our words and our speech? No other stranger
or beggar hears our words. Sweet wine is hurting you,
the honey-sweet wine that harms others too, whoever
gulps it down and does not drink in measure.
Wine drove even the Centaur, famed Eurytion,
to folly in the halls of great-hearted Peirithous,
when he came among the Lapiths; and when wine had ruined his wits,
raging he wrought evil deeds in the house of Peirithous;
and grief seized the heroes, and they sprang up and dragged him
through the doorway and out of doors, and shore off his ears and his nose
with pitiless bronze; and he, ruined in his own mind,
went on his way bearing his own folly with a foolish heart.
From that time strife arose between Centaurs and men,
and he first found evil for himself by being heavy with wine.
So for you too I foretell great ruin, if you string
that bow; for you will meet with no kindness
in our land, but straightway in a black ship
we will send you to king Echetus, the destroyer of all mortals;
and from there you shall not be saved. But quietly
drink, and do not strive with younger men."
Then circumspect Penelope answered him:
"Antinous, it is neither seemly nor just
to slight the guests of Telemachus, whoever comes to this house.
Do you imagine that if this stranger strings the great bow of Odysseus
and trusts in his hands and his strength,
he will take me home and make me his wife?
He himself surely does not hope that in his breast;
and let none of you feast here grieving in his heart
for that cause, since neither is that fitting."
Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her:
"Daughter of Icarius, circumspect Penelope,
we do not think that he will take you home; that is not fitting.
But we are ashamed before the talk of men and women,
lest some other, baser Achaean should say:
'Far worse men than he woo the wife
of a blameless man, and cannot even string
his polished bow; but some beggar stranger came wandering in
and easily strung the bow and shot through the iron.'
So they will say, and that would be a disgrace to us."
Then circumspect Penelope answered him:
"Eurymachus, it is in no way possible for men to be well spoken of
in the land who dishonour and devour the house
of a noble man. Why do you count this a disgrace?
This stranger here is very tall and well built,
and he claims to be born the son of a noble father.
Come, give him the polished bow, that we may see.
For I will say this, and it shall also be brought to pass:
if he strings it, and Apollo grants him glory,
I will clothe him in a cloak and tunic, lovely garments,
and I will give him a sharp spear, a defence against dogs and men,
and a two-edged sword; and I will give him sandals for his feet,
and I will send him wherever his heart and spirit command."
Then wise Telemachus answered her:
"My mother, no one of the Achaeans has more power than I
to give it or refuse it to whomever I wish,
neither all who rule over rocky Ithaca,
nor all who hold the islands toward horse-pasturing Elis;
none of them shall constrain me against my will, if I wish
to give this bow outright to the stranger to bear away.
But go into the house and attend to your own work,
the loom and the distaff, and bid your women
go about their work; the bow shall be a care for men,
for all of them, and most of all for me; for the power in this house is mine."
She was amazed and went back into the house;
for she laid her son's wise word to heart.
She went up to the upper chamber with her handmaiden women,
and then wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until sweet sleep
Athene of the bright eyes cast upon her eyelids.
But the noble swineherd took up the curved bow and carried it;
and all the suitors shouted at him in the halls;
and thus one of the over-proud young men would say:
"Where are you carrying the curved bow, you wretched swineherd,
you vagabond? Soon the swift dogs will devour you beside your pigs,
alone, away from men, whom you reared, if Apollo
and the other immortal gods are gracious to us."
So they spoke, but he carried it and set it down in that same place,
in fear, because many were shouting in the halls.
But Telemachus from the other side called out with a threat:
"Father, carry the bow forward; soon you will not obey everyone well;
or else I, though younger, will chase you into the fields,
pelting you with stones; for I am stronger in force.
If only I were as much stronger in hands and strength
than all the suitors, as many as are in the house!
Then I would soon send someone home in misery
out of our house, since they devise evil."
So he spoke, and all the suitors laughed sweetly at him,
and the suitors let go of their harsh anger
against Telemachus; and the swineherd carried the bow through the house
and stood beside wise Odysseus and put it into his hands.
And he called the nurse Eurycleia and spoke to her:
"Telemachus bids you, circumspect Eurycleia,
to lock the close-fitting doors of the hall.
And if anyone hears groaning or a din within
among our men inside the walls, let none
come forth, but let her stay quiet there at her work."
So he spoke, and the word was wingless for her,
and she locked the doors of the well-built hall.
And silently Philoetius sprang out of the house,
and then he locked the doors of the well-fenced courtyard.
And beneath the portico lay the cable of a curved ship,
made of papyrus, with which he bound the doors, and he went back in;
he went and sat down on the chair from which he had risen,
watching Odysseus. And he was already handling the bow,
turning it over everywhere, trying it this way and that,
lest worms had eaten the horn while the lord was away.
And thus one of them said, looking at his neighbour:
"This man must be a judge of bows and a thief as well;
or perhaps such a bow lies at home with him,
or he is eager to make one, since he handles it in his hands
this way and that, the wretched wandering beggar."
And another of the over-proud young men said:
"If only he might meet with as much profit
as he will ever be able to string this bow."
So the suitors spoke; but Odysseus of many wiles,
as soon as he had lifted the great bow and scanned it everywhere,
even as a man skilled in the lyre and in song
easily stretches a string around a new peg,
fastening the twisted sheep-gut on either end,
so without effort Odysseus strung the great bow.
Taking it in his right hand he made trial of the string;
and it sang beautifully beneath his hand, like the voice of a swallow.
And great grief came upon the suitors, and the colour
of all their skin changed; and Zeus thundered loudly, showing signs.
And much-enduring noble Odysseus rejoiced,
because the son of Cronos of the crooked counsel had sent him the sign.
He took a swift arrow, which lay beside him on the table,
bare; the others lay within the hollow quiver,
which the Achaeans were soon to make trial of.
Taking it by the middle he drew the string and the notches,
sitting there on his chair, and shot the arrow,
aiming straight; and he missed none of all the axes,
from the first handle, and straight through came out
the bronze-heavy arrow; and he spoke to Telemachus:
"Telemachus, the stranger sitting in your halls has not disgraced you,
nor have I missed the mark, nor did I toil long
in stringing the bow; my strength is still steadfast,
not as the suitors supposed in their contempt.
Now it is time that dinner be made ready for the Achaeans
in the light, and afterwards that they make merry in another way
with song and lyre; for these are the ornaments of a feast."
He spoke and nodded with his brows; and he put on the sharp sword,
Telemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus,
and laid his dear hand upon the spear, and close beside him
he stood by his chair, armed in the flashing bronze.

### Book 22

But he stripped the rags from his body, Odysseus of many counsels,
and sprang upon the great threshold, holding the bow and the quiver
that was heavy with arrows, and he poured the swift shafts out
there before his feet, and then he spoke among the suitors:
"This contest, this ordeal past all escaping, is now accomplished;
now I shall try another mark, which no man yet has hit,
if haply I may hit it, and Apollo grant me the glory."
He spoke, and aimed the bitter arrow straight at Antinous.
Truly that man was about to lift up the fair cup,
a golden two-handled goblet, and already he handled it in his hands,
that he might drink of the wine; and slaughter was not in his heart
nor in his care; who among men at a feast could think,
one man alone among many, even were he never so strong,
that he would deal him death and black doom?
Him Odysseus struck with the arrow, aiming at his throat,
and straight through the tender neck the point went out.
He fell away sideways, and the cup dropped from his hand
as he was struck, and straightway through his nostrils a thick jet
of human blood came spurting; and swiftly with his foot he pushed
the table from him, and scattered the food upon the ground;
bread and roasted flesh were all befouled. And the suitors
clamoured throughout the hall, when they saw the man fallen,
and up from their seats they sprang, astounded through the house,
peering every way at the well-built walls;
but nowhere was a shield, nor a stout spear to be seized.
And they railed at Odysseus with wrathful words:
"Stranger, evilly do you shoot at men; no more hereafter
shall you meet with other contests; now your sheer destruction is sure.
For now you have slain the man who was far the best
of the young men in Ithaca; therefore shall the vultures devour you here."
So each man spoke, for they thought it was against his will
that the man had slain him; but the fools did not perceive
that the bonds of destruction were fastened upon them also, all together.
Then with a dark look at them spoke Odysseus of many counsels:
"You dogs! You did not think I should come back home again
from the land of the Trojans, seeing that you laid waste my house,
and lay with my handmaid women by force,
and wooed my wife while I myself was still alive,
fearing neither the gods who hold the wide heaven,
nor any vengeance of men that should come hereafter.
Now upon you all the bonds of destruction are fastened."
So he spoke, and pale fear seized them all,
and each man looked about him, where he might escape sheer destruction.
And Eurymachus alone answered him and spoke:
"If indeed you are Odysseus of Ithaca, come home at last,
then these things you have said are just, all that the Achaeans did,
many a reckless deed in the halls, and many in the fields.
But he now lies low who was the cause of them all,
Antinous; for it was he who set these works in motion,
not so much desiring the marriage nor in need of it,
but devising other things, which the son of Cronos did not bring to pass for him,
that he might be king over the people of well-built Ithaca
himself, and might slay your son by ambush.
But now he in his fate has fallen, so do you spare your own people;
and we hereafter, making amends throughout the land
for all that has been drunk and eaten in your halls,
bringing each man a price of twenty oxen,
both bronze and gold we shall pay back, until your heart
is softened; but before that, to be angry is no cause for reproach."
Then with a dark look at him spoke Odysseus of many counsels:
"Eurymachus, not even if you gave me back all your fathers' goods,
all that you now have, and whatever else you might add from elsewhere,
not even so would I hold my hands from the slaughter
until the suitors pay in full for all their transgression.
Now it lies before you: either to fight face to face,
or to flee, whoever may escape death and the fates;
but I think that no man will escape sheer destruction."
So he spoke, and their knees were loosened and their dear hearts.
And Eurymachus addressed them a second time again:
"Friends, this man will not restrain his invincible hands,
but since he has taken the well-polished bow and the quiver,
from the smooth threshold will he shoot, until he has slain
us all; but let us remember our battle-fury.
Draw your swords and hold up the tables
against the swift-dying arrows; and let us all set upon him
together, if haply we may thrust him from the threshold and the doors,
and go up through the town, and the alarm be raised as quickly as may be;
then this man would presently shoot his last arrow."
So he spoke, and drew his sharp sword,
of bronze, whetted on both edges, and leapt at him
shouting terribly; and at the same moment noble Odysseus
let fly his arrow, and struck him beside the breast at the nipple,
and drove the swift shaft into his liver; and from his hand
the sword fell to the ground, and pitching over the table
he fell bending forward, and spilled the food upon the ground
and the two-handled cup; and he smote the earth with his forehead
grieving at heart, and with both feet
kicking the chair he shook it; and a mist was poured over his eyes.
And Amphinomus rushed at glorious Odysseus face to face,
and drew his sharp sword,
if haply he might give way from the doors. But Telemachus
was first and struck him from behind with the bronze spear
between the shoulders, and drove it through his breast;
and he fell with a thud, and smote the earth with all his forehead.
And Telemachus sprang back, leaving the long-shadowed spear
there in Amphinomus; for he greatly feared lest some one of the Achaeans
should thrust at him as he drew forth the long-shadowed spear,
rushing on with a sword, or strike him as he bent forward.
He hastened at a run, and very quickly reached his dear father,
and standing near him he spoke winged words:
"Father, now I shall bring you a shield and two spears
and a helmet all of bronze, fitted to your temples,
and I myself will put it about me as I go, and I will give to the swineherd
and to the cowherd others; for it is better to be armed."
Then answering him spoke Odysseus of many counsels:
"Bring them at a run, while I have arrows to defend myself,
lest they drive me from the doors, while I am but one man alone."
So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father,
and went to the chamber, where his glorious armour lay.
From there he took four shields, and eight spears,
and four bronze helmets, plumed with horsehair;
and he went carrying them, and very quickly reached his dear father,
and he himself first put the bronze about his body;
and in like manner the two bondsmen put on the fair armour,
and stood about Odysseus, the battle-minded, crafty in many ways.
Yet he, so long as he had arrows to defend himself,
so long he kept striking one of the suitors after another in his own house,
taking aim; and they fell in thronging heaps.
But when the arrows failed the lord as he shot,
he leaned the bow against the door-post of the well-built hall,
to stand there, against the shining wall;
and he himself put a fourfold shield about his shoulders,
and on his mighty head he set a well-wrought helmet,
plumed with horsehair, and terribly the crest nodded above;
and he took two stout spears, tipped with bronze.
Now there was a certain postern in the well-built wall,
and by the topmost threshold of the well-built hall
there was a way into the passage, and close-fitted boards held it.
This Odysseus ordered the noble swineherd to keep watch over,
standing close beside it; for there was but one way of onset.
And Agelaus spoke among them, declaring a word to all:
"Friends, could not someone climb up through the postern
and tell the people, and the alarm be raised as quickly as may be?
then this man would presently shoot his last arrow."
And Melanthius the goatherd answered him again:
"Not in any way is it possible, Agelaus, fosterling of Zeus; for terribly near
are the fair doors of the court and the grievous mouth of the passage;
and one man, if he were stout, could hold them all back.
But come, let me bring you armour to be put on
out of the chamber; for within, I think, and nowhere else
did Odysseus and his glorious son lay up the armour."
So he spoke, and Melanthius the goatherd went up,
into the chambers of Odysseus through the crannies of the hall.
From there he took twelve shields, and as many spears
and as many bronze helmets, plumed with horsehair;
and he went, and very quickly brought them and gave them to the suitors.
And then the knees of Odysseus were loosened and his dear heart,
when he saw them putting on the armour with their hands and shaking
the long spears; and a great task it seemed to him.
And straightway he spoke winged words to Telemachus:
"Telemachus, surely one of the women within the halls
is stirring up evil war against us two, or else Melanthius."
And Telemachus, wise of heart, spoke to him in answer:
"Father, I myself have erred in this, and no one else
is the cause, I who left the close-fitted door of the chamber
set open; but their watchman was the better man."
"But come, noble Eumaeus, shut the door of the chamber
and mark whether one of the women is doing this,
or the son of Dolius, Melanthius, whom I suspect."
So these two spoke such words to one another,
and Melanthius the goatherd went back to the chamber,
to carry the fair armour. And the noble swineherd marked him,
and straightway spoke to Odysseus, who was near:
"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,
yonder man again, the destroyer, whom we ourselves suspected,
is going to the chamber; but do you tell me truly,
whether I shall kill him, if I prove the stronger,
or bring him to you here, that he may pay for the transgressions,
the many that this man has devised in your house."
Then answering him spoke Odysseus of many counsels:
"Truly I and Telemachus will hold back the lordly suitors
within the halls, however eager they may be.
And do you two twist his feet and his hands above him
and throw him into the chamber, and bind the boards behind him,
and having tied a woven rope to him
drag him up a tall pillar and bring him close to the beams,
so that living long he may suffer grievous pains."
So he spoke, and they heard him well and obeyed,
and went into the chamber, unseen of him who was within.
He, indeed, searched for armour in the inmost part of the chamber,
and the two stood on either side beside the door-posts, waiting.
And when Melanthius the goatherd stepped over the threshold,
in the one hand carrying a goodly helmet,
and in the other a broad old shield, defiled with mould,
the hero Laertes', which he used to carry when he was young;
then indeed it lay there, and the stitching of its straps was loosed.
And the two rushed upon him and seized him and dragged him within
by the hair, and flung him down on the floor, grieved at heart,
and bound his feet and his hands with a heart-paining bond,
twisting them well right through, even as he had ordered
the son of Laertes, much-enduring noble Odysseus;
and having tied a woven rope to him
they dragged him up a tall pillar and brought him close to the beams.
And mocking him you spoke, Eumaeus the swineherd:
"Now indeed, Melanthius, all night long shall you keep watch,
lying down in a soft bed, as is seemly for you;
nor shall the early-born, the golden-throned, from the streams of Ocean
escape you as she comes, when you drive
the goats to the suitors through the house to make them a feast."
So he was left there, stretched in a deadly bond;
and the two put on their armour, and shut the shining door,
and went to Odysseus, battle-minded, crafty in many ways.
There they stood breathing fury, some at the threshold,
four of them, and others inside the halls, many and valiant.
And near them came the daughter of Zeus, Athena,
like Mentor in form and in voice.
And Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her and spoke a word:
"Mentor, ward off ruin, and remember your dear comrade,
who used to do you kindness; and you are of my own age."
So he spoke, thinking she was Athena, rouser of armies.
And the suitors shouted from the other side in the halls;
first Agelaus, son of Damastor, rebuked her:
"Mentor, do not let Odysseus persuade you with words
to fight the suitors, and to defend him himself.
For thus I think our purpose will be accomplished:
when we have slain these two, the father and the son,
then you also shall be among them, doing such things as you desire
to do in the halls; and you shall pay with your own head.
But when we have taken away your strength with the bronze,
all the possessions that are yours, both within and without,
we shall mingle with those of Odysseus; nor will we suffer
your sons to live in the halls, nor your daughters
nor your wedded wife to walk about the city of Ithaca."
So he spoke, and Athena was angered yet more in her heart,
and she rebuked Odysseus with wrathful words:
"No longer is your might steadfast, Odysseus, nor any valour
such as when for the sake of Helen of the white arms, of noble sire,
nine years long you fought against the Trojans, never ceasing,
and slew many men in dread battle,
and by your counsel the wide-wayed city of Priam was taken.
How then now, when you have come to your own home and possessions,
do you lament before the suitors that you are valiant?
But come hither, my friend, stand by me and behold the work,
that you may know what manner of man among hostile men
Mentor son of Alcimus is, to repay good deeds."
She spoke, and did not yet wholly grant the victory that turns the scale,
but still she put to the test the strength and the valour
both of Odysseus and of his glorious son.
And she herself up to the roof of the smoky hall
sat, having leapt up, like a swallow to look upon.
And Agelaus son of Damastor urged on the suitors,
Eurynomus and Amphimedon and Demoptolem,
and Peisander son of Polyctor and shrewd Polybus;
for these were far the best of the suitors in valour,
as many as were still alive and fighting for their lives;
but the bow and the close-packed arrows had already subdued them.
And Agelaus spoke among them, declaring a word to all:
"Friends, now this man will hold back his invincible hands;
and indeed Mentor has gone hence, having spoken empty boasts,
and those two are left alone at the front doors.
So now do not all hurl your long spears at once,
but come, let the six of you first hurl your spears, if haply Zeus
may grant that Odysseus be struck, and that we win the glory.
For the rest there is no care, once this man has fallen."
So he spoke, and they all hurled, even as he commanded,
eager; but Athena made them all in vain,
for one of them struck the door-post of the well-built hall,
and another the close-fitted door;
and another's bronze-heavy ash spear fell against the wall.
But when they had escaped the spears of the suitors,
then much-enduring noble Odysseus began to speak among them:
"Friends, now I too would say that we should hurl
into the throng of the suitors, who are eager
to slay us, on top of their former evils."
So he spoke, and they all hurled the sharp spears,
aiming straight before them; Odysseus struck Demoptolem,
and Telemachus Eurydamas, and the swineherd Elatus,
and the cowherd of the cattle slew Peisander.
Then all of them alike took the boundless earth with their teeth,
and the suitors drew back to the inmost part of the hall;
and the others rushed in, and took the spears from the dead.
And again the suitors hurled the sharp spears,
eager; but Athena made many of them in vain,
for one of them struck the door-post of the well-built hall,
and another the close-fitted door;
and another's bronze-heavy ash spear fell against the wall.
And Amphimedon struck Telemachus on the wrist of his hand
a grazing blow, and the bronze broke the topmost skin.
And Ctesippus with his long spear over the swineherd's shield
grazed his shoulder; and the spear flew over and fell to the ground.
And the others again about Odysseus, battle-minded, crafty in many ways,
hurled the sharp spears into the throng of the suitors.
Then again Odysseus, sacker of cities, struck Eurydamas,
and Telemachus Amphimedon, and the swineherd Polybus;
and Ctesippus the cowherd of the cattle
struck in the chest, and boasting he spoke aloud:
"Son of Polytherses, lover of mockery, never again
in your folly give way to speaking big words, but to the gods
commit the word, since they are far stronger.
This is your guest-gift in return for the foot you once gave
to godlike Odysseus as he wandered through his house."
So spoke the cowherd of the sleek cattle; and Odysseus
stabbed the son of Damastor at close range with his long spear.
And Telemachus struck Leocritus, son of Evenor,
with his spear in the middle of the flank, and drove the bronze right through;
and he fell face down, and smote the earth with all his forehead.
Then Athena held up the man-destroying aegis
from on high, out of the roof; and their minds were panic-stricken.
And they fled through the hall like herds of cattle,
which the darting gadfly, rushing upon them, drives mad
in the season of spring, when the days grow long.
And as hook-clawed vultures with curved talons,
coming from the mountains, rush upon birds,
and the birds over the plain, cowering before the clouds, fly low,
and the vultures leap upon them and destroy them, and there is no defence
nor escape; and men rejoice in the hunt;
so then those men rushed upon the suitors through the house
and struck them, turning this way and that; and a shameful groan rose up
as their heads were struck, and the whole floor ran with blood.
And Leodes rushed at Odysseus and seized his knees,
and pleading he spoke winged words:
"I beseech you, Odysseus; show me reverence and have pity on me;
for I say that I never said anything
nor did anything reckless to any of the women in the halls; but I even
kept the other suitors from it, whoever did such things.
But they did not obey me, to keep their hands from evil;
so by their recklessness they came to a shameful death.
But I, a diviner among them, having done nothing,
shall lie dead, since there is no gratitude afterwards for good deeds."
Then with a dark look at him spoke Odysseus of many counsels:
"If indeed you claim to be a diviner among them,
often, I suppose, you prayed in the halls
that the end of my sweet homecoming should be far away,
and that my dear wife should follow you, and that you beget children;
therefore you shall not escape death that brings hard grief."
So speaking, he took up in his stout hand the sword
that lay there, which Agelaus had let fall to the ground
when he was slain; with it he struck him in the middle of the neck.
And while he was still speaking, his head was mingled with the dust.
And Terpiades the singer was still fleeing black doom,
Phemius, who used to sing among the suitors by compulsion.
He stood holding in his hands the clear-toned lyre
close beside the postern; and in his mind he pondered two ways,
whether he should slip out of the hall to the altar of great Zeus,
the god of the courtyard, and sit there where many times
Laertes and Odysseus had burned the thighs of oxen,
or whether he should rush and beseech Odysseus by the knees.
And as he thought it over, this seemed to him the better course,
to clasp the knees of Odysseus, son of Laertes.
So he laid the hollow lyre upon the ground
between the mixing-bowl and the silver-studded chair,
and he himself rushed and grasped the knees of Odysseus,
and pleading he spoke winged words:
"I beseech you, Odysseus; show me reverence and have pity on me;
for afterwards there will be grief for you yourself, if you slay
a singer, who sings for gods and for men.
I am self-taught, and a god has planted in my mind
songs of every kind; and I seem to sing before you
as before a god; so do not long to cut my throat.
And Telemachus would say this too, your dear son,
that I never of my own will nor from want came to your house,
going among the suitors to sing at their feasts,
but far more numerous and stronger men brought me by compulsion."
So he spoke, and the sacred strength of Telemachus heard him,
and at once he spoke to his father, who was near:
"Hold back, and do not strike this innocent man with the bronze;
and let us save the herald Medon too, who always
cared for me in our house when I was a child,
unless Philoetius has slain him, or the swineherd,
or he met you as you raged through the house."
So he spoke, and Medon heard him, wise of heart;
for he lay crouching beneath a chair, and about him
he had wrapped a freshly flayed ox-hide, fleeing black doom.
And at once he sprang from the chair, and quickly stripped off the ox-hide,
and then he rushed and grasped the knees of Telemachus,
and pleading he spoke winged words:
"Friend, I am here; hold back, and tell your father
not to harm me in his overmastering strength with the sharp bronze,
being angry with the suitors, who were devouring
his possessions in the halls, and the fools honoured you in nothing."
And with a smile Odysseus of many counsels spoke to him:
"Take heart, since this man has saved you and rescued you,
that you may know in your heart — and tell it to another also —
that good dealing is far better than evil-doing.
But come out of the halls and sit outside the door,
away from the slaughter, in the courtyard, you and the much-praised singer,
while I do in the house whatever I must do."
So he spoke, and the two went out of the hall,
and they sat down beside the altar of great Zeus,
looking every way, always expecting slaughter.
And Odysseus looked throughout his house, whether any man
were yet alive and hiding away, fleeing black doom.
He saw them all, in blood and dust,
fallen, many of them, like fishes, which fishermen
into the hollow shore, out beyond the grey sea,
have dragged with a many-meshed net; and they all,
longing for the waves of the sea, lie gasping on the sand;
and the shining Sun takes the life from them;
so then the suitors lay fallen upon one another.
Then Odysseus of many counsels spoke to Telemachus:
"Telemachus, come, call the nurse Eurycleia for me,
so that I may speak a word that is in my heart."
So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father,
and having pushed the door he spoke to the nurse Eurycleia:
"Come here, rise up, aged woman, long since grown old, who among the women
are the watcher of the maidservants throughout our halls;
come, my father calls you, so that he may say something."
So he called, and her word was unwinged,
and she opened the doors of the well-built halls,
and went in; and Telemachus led the way before her.
She found Odysseus among the slain corpses,
defiled with blood and gore, like a lion,
that has eaten its fill of a farmyard ox and comes away;
and all of his chest and both his cheeks
are bloody, and he is terrible to look upon in the face;
so was Odysseus defiled, his feet and his hands above.
And when she saw the corpses and the boundless blood,
she was eager to cry aloud in triumph, since she saw a great deed;
but Odysseus held her back and restrained her, eager though she was,
and speaking he addressed her with winged words:
"In your heart, old woman, rejoice, and hold back, and do not cry aloud;
it is not holy to boast over slain men.
But these the fate of the gods subdued, and their cruel deeds;
for they honoured no one of the men upon the earth,
neither bad nor good, whoever came among them;
so by their recklessness they came to a shameful death.
But come, recount for me the women in the halls,
those who dishonour me, and those who are innocent."
And her dear nurse Eurycleia answered him:
"Then I will tell you the truth, my child.
There are fifty women in the halls,
maidservants, whom we taught to work at their tasks,
both to card the wool and to endure slavery;
of these twelve in all have set foot on shamelessness,
honouring neither me nor Penelope herself.
And Telemachus was lately growing up, and his mother
did not allow him to give orders to the maidservants.
But come, let me go up to the shining upper rooms
and tell your wife, on whom some god has poured sleep."
And answering her spoke Odysseus of many counsels:
"Do not wake her yet; but tell the women here
to come, those who before were plotting shameful things."
So he spoke, and the old woman had gone through the hall
to tell the women and to urge them to come.
And he, calling Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd
to himself, spoke winged words:
"Begin now to carry out the dead, and give the women their orders;
and then the very beautiful chairs and the tables
wash with water and with porous sponges.
And when you have set the whole house in order,
lead the maidservants out of the well-built hall,
between the round building and the good wall of the courtyard,
and smite them with long-edged swords, until you have taken
the lives from them all, and they forget Aphrodite,
whom they had beneath the suitors and mingled with in secret."
So he spoke, and the women came all together,
wailing terribly, pouring down a big tear.
First they carried out the corpses of the dead,
and laid them under the portico of the well-fenced courtyard,
propping them against one another; and Odysseus gave the orders,
himself urging them on; and they carried them out by compulsion.
And then the very beautiful chairs and the tables
they washed with water and with porous sponges.
And Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd
with scrapers scoured the floor of the well-made house;
and the maidservants carried it out and put it outside.
But when they had set the whole hall in order,
and led the maidservants out of the well-built hall,
between the round building and the good wall of the courtyard,
they penned them in a narrow place, from which there was no escape.
And Telemachus, wise of heart, began to speak to them:
"I would not take the lives of these with a clean death,
these who poured insults upon my head
and upon my mother, and lay beside the suitors."
So he spoke, and tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship
to a great pillar, and flung it round the round building,
stretching it high up, so that no one's feet might reach the floor.
And as when either long-winged thrushes or doves
are caught in a snare, which is set in a thicket,
as they come in to roost, and a hateful bed receives them;
so their heads were in a row, and about all of them
were nooses on their necks, so that they might die most piteously.
And they twitched with their feet for a little while, but not very long.
And they brought Melanthius out through the porch and the courtyard;
and they cut off his nose and his ears with the pitiless bronze,
and tore out his privy parts, to give them raw to the dogs,
and cut off his hands and his feet in their angry hearts.
Then they washed their hands and their feet
and went into the house of Odysseus, and the work was accomplished;
and he spoke to his dear nurse Eurycleia:
"Bring sulphur, old woman, the cure of evils, and bring me fire,
so that I may fumigate the hall; and tell Penelope
to come here with her attendant women;
and urge all the maidservants to come through the house."
And her dear nurse Eurycleia answered him:
"Yes indeed, my child, you have spoken as is right.
But come, let me bring you a cloak and a tunic and clothing,
and do not stand like this in the halls, covered with rags
over your broad shoulders; that would be a thing for reproach."
And answering her spoke Odysseus of many counsels:
"First of all, let there be a fire for me in the halls."
So he spoke, and his dear nurse Eurycleia did not disobey,
and she brought fire and sulphur; and Odysseus
fumigated the hall well, and the house and the courtyard.
And the old woman went back through the fine halls of Odysseus
to tell the women and to urge them to come;
and they came out of the hall, holding torches in their hands.
And they crowded about him and greeted Odysseus,
and kissed his head and shoulders, clasping him in welcome,
and took his hands; and a sweet longing seized him
for weeping and groaning, and in his heart he knew them all.

### Book 23

So the old woman went up to the upper chamber, exulting,
to tell her mistress that her dear husband was within the house;
and her knees were strengthened, and her feet hurried beneath her.
She stood above her head and spoke a word to her:
Awake, Penelope, dear child, so that you may see
with your own eyes the things you have longed for all your days.
Odysseus has come, and is here at the house, though late he came.
And he has killed the proud suitors, who were devouring his house
and his possessions, and were lording it over his son.
Then wise Penelope answered her again:
Dear nurse, the gods have made you mad, the gods who are able
to make a fool of even one who is very wise,
and to set the light-minded man upon the path of prudence;
they have hurt you; before this you were of sound mind.
Why do you mock me, who have a heart full of mourning,
telling me these things beyond the truth, and waking me out of sleep
that was sweet, which bound my dear eyelids over my eyes?
For never yet have I slept so deep, since the day Odysseus
went away to look on evil Troy, whose name should not be spoken.
But come now, go down and go back to the hall.
For if any other woman of those who are mine
had come and told me this and woken me out of sleep,
I would have sent her off swiftly to go back with a curse
again within the hall; but for you this old age will be a gain.
Then her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:
I am not mocking you, dear child, but it is in truth
that Odysseus has come and is here at the house, as I tell you,
the stranger, whom all men in the halls dishonored.
And Telemachus knew long ago that he was within,
but in his prudence he hid his father's purpose,
until he should exact payment for the violence of the overweening men.
So she spoke, and she rejoiced, and leaping from the bed
she clung about the old woman, and from her eyelids a tear fell;
and she spoke to her, addressing her with winged words:
Come now, dear nurse, tell me truly,
whether in truth he has come home, as you say,
and how it was he laid hands on the shameless suitors
being alone, while they always remained within, gathered together.
Then her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:
I did not see, I did not hear, but only the groaning I heard
of men being killed; and we in the corner of the well-built chambers
sat terrified, and the close-fitting doors held us in,
until your son Telemachus called me from the hall;
for his father had sent him to call me.
Then I found Odysseus standing among the slain corpses;
and they lay around him on the hard-beaten floor,
one upon another; you would have warmed your heart to see it.
But now they all lie at the courtyard doors,
gathered together, while he purifies the beautiful house,
having kindled a great fire; and he has sent me to call you.
But follow me, so that you two may enter into joy,
both of you, in your dear hearts, since you have suffered much evil.
And now at last this long desire has been fulfilled;
he has come home himself alive, and he has found you
and your son in the halls; and the evil they did against him,
the suitors, he has taken payment from them all in his own house.
Then wise Penelope answered her again:
Dear nurse, do not yet boast greatly in your exultation.
For you know how welcome he would appear in the halls
to all, and most of all to me and to the son we bore;
but this tale of yours is not true, as you tell it,
but one of the immortals killed the noble suitors,
angered at their heart-grieving arrogance and their evil deeds.
For they honored no man upon the earth,
neither bad nor good, whoever came among them;
therefore through their folly they suffered evil; but Odysseus
has lost his homecoming far from Achaea, and has perished himself.
Then her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:
My child, what word has escaped the fence of your teeth,
when you say that your husband, who is within, beside the hearth,
will never come home; but your heart is always unbelieving.
But come, I will tell you another very clear sign,
the scar, which a boar once struck on him with its white tusk.
While washing it I noticed it, and I wished to tell you yourself;
but he caught me by the mouth with his hands
and did not let me speak, in the wisdom of his mind.
But come; and I will stake my own life,
if I deceive you, that you may kill me with the most pitiable death.
Then wise Penelope answered her:
Dear nurse, it is hard to search out the purposes of the gods
who live forever, even for one very wise.
But still, let us go to my son, so that I may see
the suitors dead, and him who killed them.
So she spoke, and went down from the upper chamber; and much her heart
pondered whether she should question her dear husband from afar,
or stand beside him and kiss his head and take his hands.
And when she came in and crossed the stone threshold,
she sat down opposite Odysseus, in the light of the fire,
against the other wall; but he sat looking down
toward the long pillar, waiting to see whether his noble wife
would say something to him, since he had seen her with his eyes.
She sat a long while in silence, and amazement came to her heart;
and with her eyes she would look at him face to face at one moment,
and at another she would not know him, for the evil clothes on his body.
But Telemachus rebuked her and spoke a word and called her by name:
Mother, my mother, harsh mother, with a heart without pity,
why do you hold yourself apart from my father like this, and do not
sit beside him and ask him with words and question him?
No other woman at all, with such an enduring heart,
would hold herself off from her husband, who after suffering much evil
had come back to his native land in the twentieth year;
but your heart is forever harder than stone.
Then wise Penelope answered him again:
My child, the heart in my breast is stunned,
and I cannot speak a word nor ask a question
nor look him in the face straight on. But if in truth
it is Odysseus and he has come home, then we two surely
shall know each other the better; for we have
tokens, which we two know, hidden from others.
So she spoke, and much-enduring noble Odysseus smiled,
and immediately spoke winged words to Telemachus:
Telemachus, leave your mother in the halls
to test me; and soon she will know me the better.
But as it is, because I am dirty and wear evil clothes on my body,
therefore she dishonors me and says I am not that man.
But let us consider how all may turn out best.
For even a man who has killed one man in his country,
when there are not many to avenge him afterwards,
flees, leaving his kin behind and his native land;
but we have killed the bulwark of the city, the very best
of the young men in Ithaca; on this I bid you take thought.
Then wise Telemachus answered him face to face:
Look to these things yourself, dear father; for men say your counsel
is the best among men, and no other man
among mortals could rival you.
But we will follow eagerly along with you, and I say
I will not fall short in courage, as much strength as is in me.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Then I will speak, as it seems best to me.
First wash yourselves and put on tunics,
and bid the women in the halls to choose their clothing;
but let the divine singer, holding his clear-toned lyre,
lead us in the dance that loves play,
so that one might say it is a wedding, hearing it outside,
either walking along the road or among those who dwell nearby;
so that the wide rumor of the killing may not spread through the city
of the suitors' men, before we go out
to our field, thick with trees; and there then
we shall consider whatever gain Olympian Zeus may put in our hands.
So he spoke, and they hearkened to him and obeyed.
First then they washed and put on tunics,
and the women dressed themselves; and the divine singer took
the hollow lyre, and roused in them desire
of sweet song and blameless dancing.
And the great house resounded with the feet
of men sporting and women girt fair.
And so someone would say, hearing them outside the house:
Truly some man has married the much-courted queen;
hard-hearted woman, she did not endure to keep her rightful husband's
great house to the end, until he should come home.
So someone would say, but they did not know how these things were.
But Odysseus of the great heart in his own house
the housekeeper Eurynome bathed and anointed with oil,
and threw about him a fair mantle and a tunic;
and on his head Athena poured much beauty,
taller to look upon and fuller; and down from his head
she sent curling hair, like the hyacinth flower.
As when a man pours gold over silver, one
skilled, whom Hephaestus taught and Pallas Athena
in every craft, and he finishes graceful works;
so she poured grace over his head and his shoulders.
And he came from the bath, like the immortals in body;
and again he sat down on the throne from which he had risen,
opposite his own wife, and spoke a word to her:
Strange woman, the gods who hold Olympian homes have made
your heart unsoftening beyond all other women;
no other woman at all, with an enduring heart,
would hold herself off from her husband, who after suffering much evil
had come in the twentieth year to his native land.
But come, nurse, make me a bed, so that I myself
may lie down; for truly this woman has an iron heart in her breast.
Then wise Penelope answered him again:
Reckless man, I neither take proud airs nor make light of you,
nor am I overmuch amazed; but I know very well what you were like
when you came from Ithaca on a ship of long oars.
But come, Eurycleia, make him a firm bed
outside the well-founded chamber, the one he built himself;
and there, throwing down the firm bedding, put the bed upon it,
of hides and blankets and shining rugs.
So she spoke, testing her husband; but Odysseus
vexed at heart spoke to his faithful wife:
Woman, in truth this was a deeply painful word you said.
Who has set my bed in another place? It would be hard
even for one very skilled, unless a god himself came
and easily, being willing, set it in another place.
But among men no living mortal, not even one in his prime,
could easily stir it aside, since a great sign has been made
in the wrought bed; and I made it, and no other man.
There grew a long-leaved olive tree within the walled court,
in its prime and flourishing; and its thickness was like a pillar.
Round it I built a bedroom, until I had finished it,
with close-set stones, and I roofed it well above,
and set in it fitted doors, closely joined.
And then I cut off the foliage of the long-leaved olive,
and trimmed the trunk from the root, cutting it with bronze,
well and skillfully, and I straightened it to the line,
working it into a bedpost, and I bored all the holes with an auger.
From that beginning I fashioned the bed, until I had finished it,
adorning it with gold and silver and ivory;
and I stretched through it a thong of oxhide, shining with purple.
So I make this sign plain to you; and I know nothing
whether my bed is still fast in place, wife, or whether some man
has set it elsewhere, cutting the base of the olive beneath it.
So he spoke, and her knees and her dear heart were loosed,
as she recognized the signs that Odysseus had told her plainly.
Then she wept and ran straight to him, and about his neck
she threw her arms to Odysseus, and kissed his head and spoke:
Do not be angry with me, Odysseus, since in all other things
you were the most understanding of men; the gods gave us sorrow,
who begrudged us that we two, staying beside each other,
should enjoy our youth and reach the threshold of old age.
But do not now be angry with me for this nor resent me,
because I did not welcome you like this the first moment I saw you.
For always the heart in my dear breast
shuddered lest some mortal should deceive me with words
and come; for many men plan evil gains.
Not even Argive Helen, born of Zeus,
would have mingled in love and bed with a foreign man,
if she had known that the warlike sons of the Achaeans
would bring her back home to her dear native land.
But a god urged her on to do a shameful deed;
that ruin she did not first lay up in her own heart,
the baneful ruin from which grief first came even to us.
But now, since you have told the very clear signs
of our bed, which no other mortal has seen,
but only you and I and one single handmaid,
Actor's daughter, whom my father gave me when I came here,
who guarded the doors of our firm chamber for us,
you persuade my heart, though it is very hard.
So she spoke, and in him she roused still more longing for lament;
and he wept holding his heart's-wife, the faithful-minded woman.
As when land appears welcome to men swimming,
whose well-built ship Poseidon has wrecked on the sea,
driven on by wind and solid wave;
and few escaped the gray sea to the mainland
by swimming, with much brine crusted over their skin,
and gladly they set foot on land, escaping misery;
so welcome to her was her husband as she looked upon him,
and from his neck she did not yet let go her white arms.
And now rosy-fingered Dawn would have appeared to them as they lamented,
had not the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, thought of another thing.
She held back the long night at its limit, and again Dawn
she kept away from Ocean, the golden-throned one, and did not let
the swift-footed horses be yoked, that bring light to men,
Lampus and Phaethon, the colts that draw Dawn.
And then much-devising Odysseus spoke to his wife:
Woman, we have not yet come to the limit of all our trials,
but still hereafter there will be immeasurable toil,
much and hard, which I must accomplish all.
For so the soul of Teiresias prophesied to me
on the day when I went down into the house of Hades,
seeking the homecoming for my comrades and for myself.
But come, let us go to bed, woman, so that now at last
we may enjoy sweet sleep, lying down.
Then wise Penelope answered him again:
The bed will be yours whenever in your heart
you wish it, since the gods have made you come
to your well-built home and your native land;
but since you have thought of it and a god has put it in your mind,
come, tell me the trial, since I think I shall learn of it
hereafter too, and to know it at once is no worse.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Strange woman, why do you again urge me so strongly and bid me
tell it? But I will speak, and I will not hide it.
Your heart will not be gladdened; for I myself
do not rejoice, since he ordered me to go to many cities of men,
holding in my hands a well-made oar,
until I come to those who do not know the sea,
men who do not eat food mixed with salt;
who do not know ships with red-painted cheeks,
nor well-made oars, which are wings for ships.
And he told me this clear sign, and I will not hide it from you:
when another wayfarer, meeting me,
says that I have a winnowing-fan on my bright shoulder,
then he told me to fix the oar in the earth,
and after doing fair holy rites to lord Poseidon,
a ram and a bull and a boar that mounts sows,
to go home again, and to do holy hecatombs
to the immortal gods who hold the wide heaven,
all of them in order; and death will come to me from the sea,
a very gentle one, such as will kill me
worn with sleek old age; and about me the peoples
will be prosperous; and he said all this would be fulfilled.
Then wise Penelope answered him again:
If indeed the gods will fulfil a better old age,
then there is hope that there will be an escape from evils.
So they spoke such things to each other;
and meanwhile Eurynome and the nurse prepared the bed
with soft bedding, under the light of torches.
But when they had spread the firm bed, hurrying,
the old woman went back to lie down in her own place,
and the chambermaid Eurynome led them
as they came to bed, holding a torch in her hands;
and having brought them to the chamber she went away again. And then they
gladly came to the ordinance of their old bed;
but Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd
stopped their feet from dancing, and stopped the women,
and they themselves lay down through the shadowy halls.
And when the two had enjoyed their lovely love,
they delighted in stories, speaking to each other:
she told all that she had endured in the halls, the shining among women,
looking on the crowd of suitors, destroyers of men,
who for her sake slaughtered many oxen and fat sheep,
and much wine was drawn from the jars;
and Zeus-born Odysseus told all the woes he had laid
on men, and all that he himself had suffered in his toil;
he told it all, and she delighted in hearing, and sleep
did not fall on her eyelids before he had told all.
He began with how he first subdued the Cicones, and then
came to the rich farmland of the Lotus-eaters;
and all that the Cyclops did, and how he exacted the penalty
for his stout comrades, whom he ate and did not pity;
and how he came to Aeolus, who received him kindly
and sent him off, but it was not yet his fate to reach his dear native land,
but again a storm snatched him up and carried him
over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily;
and how he came to Telepylus of the Laestrygonians,
who destroyed his ships and his well-greaved comrades,
all of them; and Odysseus alone escaped with his black ship;
and he told of Circe's guile and her many devices,
and how he came to the dank house of Hades,
to consult the soul of Theban Teiresias,
in his many-benched ship, and saw all his comrades
and his mother, who bore him and raised him when he was small;
and how he heard the voice of the clear-sounding Sirens,
and how he came to the Wandering Rocks and dread Charybdis
and Scylla, whom no men ever escaped unharmed;
and how his comrades killed the cattle of the Sun;
and how Zeus who thunders on high struck his swift ship with a smoking bolt,
and his noble comrades perished
all together, and he alone escaped the evil fates;
and how he came to Ogygia, the island, and the nymph Calypso,
who kept him there, longing for him to be her husband,
in her hollow caves, and fed him and said
she would make him immortal and ageless all his days;
but she never persuaded the heart in his breast;
and how he came to the Phaeacians after much suffering,
who honored him in their hearts like a god
and sent him with a ship to his dear native land,
giving him bronze and gold in abundance and clothing.
This was the last word he spoke, when sweet sleep
came upon him, looser of limbs, loosing the cares of his heart.
Then again the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, thought of another thing:
when she thought that Odysseus in his heart
had had his joy of his wife's bed and of sleep,
at once she roused golden-throned early-born Dawn from Ocean,
to bring light to men; and Odysseus rose
from the soft bed, and laid a word upon his wife:
Woman, we two have had our fill of many trials,
both of us; you here, weeping for my homecoming
with its many cares; and me Zeus and the other gods
kept down with sorrows, as I yearned, away from my native land;
but now, since we have both come to our much-desired bed,
you must care for the possessions that are mine in the halls,
and the flocks, which the overbearing suitors have ravaged;
I myself will plunder much, and the Achaeans
will give more, until they fill all my farmsteads.
But I will go to the tree-filled field,
to see my noble father, who is sorely grieved for me;
and to you, woman, I give this charge, wise as you are:
for at once the report will go out with the rising sun
of the suitors' men, whom I killed in the halls;
go up to the upper chamber with your women attendants
and sit there, and do not look out nor ask questions.
He spoke, and put about his shoulders his fair armor,
and roused Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd,
and ordered them all to take the weapons of war in their hands.
They did not disobey him, but armed themselves in bronze,
and opened the doors and went out; Odysseus led the way.
Already there was light upon the earth, but Athena
hid them in night and quickly led them out of the city.

### Book 24

Hermes of Cyllene was calling forth the souls
of the suitors; and he held in his hands a rod
beautiful and golden, wherewith he charms the eyes of men
whom he will, and others again he rouses even as they sleep:
with this he stirred and led them on, and they followed, gibbering.
As when bats in the recess of a wondrous cave
flit gibbering, when one has fallen
from the cluster on the rock, and they cling to one another,
so these went along with squeaking cries; and before them led
Hermes, the kindly guide, along the dank pathways.
Past the streams of Ocean they came and the White Rock,
and past the gates of the Sun and the land of dreams
they went; and swiftly they came to the meadow of asphodel,
where dwell the souls, the phantoms of the dead outworn.
They found there the soul of Achilles, son of Peleus,
and of Patroclus, and of blameless Antilochus,
and of Ajax, who was best in form and in build
of all the other Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus.
So these were gathered about him; and near at hand
came the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,
grieving; and about him were gathered all the others, as many as with him
in the house of Aegisthus had died and met their doom.
Him the soul of the son of Peleus addressed first:
Son of Atreus, we said that you were dear above all to Zeus who delights in thunder,
among hero-men, all the days,
because you were lord over many and mighty men
in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered sorrows.
Truly even for you an early doom was destined
to stand beside you, that doom which no man escapes who is born.
Would that you had enjoyed the honor, of which you were lord,
in the land of the Trojans, and met death and doom;
then all the Achaeans would have made you a tomb,
and would have won great glory for your son hereafter;
but now it was fated that you be taken in most piteous death.
Then the soul of the son of Atreus answered him:
Blessed son of Peleus, godlike Achilles,
who died in Troy, far from Argos; and about you others
were slain, the sons of the Trojans and the best of the Achaeans,
fighting for your sake; but you in the whirlwind of dust
lay, great in your greatness, forgetful of your horsemanship.
And we fought the whole day long; nor would we ever
have ceased from war, had Zeus not stopped it with a storm.
But when we had carried you from the battle to the ships,
we laid you on a bier, and cleansed your fair body
with warm water and with oil; and about you many
warm tears the Danaans shed, and cut their hair.
And your mother came from the sea with the immortal sea-nymphs,
hearing the tidings; and a cry arose over the deep,
a wondrous one, and trembling seized all the Achaeans.
And now they would have leaped up and gone to the hollow ships,
had not a man restrained them, old and knowing many things,
Nestor, whose counsel had before shown itself the best.
He, with kindly thought, addressed them and said:
Hold, Argives, do not flee, you sons of the Achaeans;
this is his mother from the sea, with the immortal sea-nymphs,
coming to meet her dead son.
So he spoke, and they held back, the great-hearted Achaeans;
and about you stood the daughters of the old man of the sea,
piteously lamenting, and clothed you in immortal garments.
And all nine Muses, answering one another with beautiful voice,
made lament; and there you would have seen no one
of the Argives tearless; so deeply did the clear-voiced Muse stir them.
And seventeen days alike, nights and days,
we wept, both the immortal gods and mortal men;
and on the eighteenth we gave you to the fire, and about you
we slew many sheep, very fat, and horned cattle.
And you burned in the clothing of the gods and in much oil
and sweet honey; and many heroes, Achaeans,
strengthened themselves with their armor about the burning pyre,
both footmen and horsemen; and a great din arose.
But when the flame of Hephaestus had made an end of you,
at dawn we gathered your white bones, Achilles,
in unmixed wine and in oil; and your mother gave
a golden two-handled urn; and the gift of Dionysus
she said it was, and the work of renowned Hephaestus.
In that your white bones lie, splendid Achilles,
mingled with Patroclus, son of Menoetius, who had died,
and apart with Antilochus, whom you honored beyond all
your other comrades, after Patroclus at least had died.
And about them then a great and blameless tomb
we heaped up, the sacred host of the Argives, spearmen,
on a jutting headland of the wide Hellespont,
so that it might be seen afar from the sea by men
who now are born and who shall be hereafter.
And your mother, asking the gods for very beautiful prizes,
set them in the midst of the contest for the best of the Achaeans.
Already at the burial of many men
of heroes you have been present, when a king has died
and the young men gird themselves and prepare the contests;
but those you would have marveled at above all in your heart,
such as the goddess set before you, the very beautiful prizes,
silver-footed Thetis; for you were very dear to the gods.
So you did not lose your name even in death, but forever
among all men your good fame shall be, Achilles;
but what joy was that to me, since I had wound up the war?
For on my return Zeus devised for me a grievous destruction
by the hands of Aegisthus and my accursed wife.
So these two spoke such words to one another,
and near them came the guide, the slayer of Argus,
bringing down the souls of the suitors slain by Odysseus;
and the two, astonished, went straight toward them, when they saw them.
And the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, knew
the dear son of Melaneus, glorious Amphimedon;
for he had been his host, dwelling in Ithaca in his house.
The soul of the son of Atreus spoke to him first:
Amphimedon, what has befallen you, that you went down into the dark earth,
all chosen men and of like age? Not otherwise
would one, choosing, gather the best men in a city.
Did Poseidon overpower you in your ships,
rousing grievous winds and long waves?
Or did hostile men do you harm on the land,
as you were cutting off cattle or fair flocks of sheep,
or fighting for a city and for women?
Tell me, who ask you; for I declare that I am your host.
Do you not remember when I came there to your house,
urging Odysseus, with godlike Menelaus,
to follow with me to Ilion in the well-benched ships?
And in a whole month we crossed all the wide sea,
with difficulty persuading Odysseus, the sacker of cities.
Then the soul of Amphimedon answered him:
Most glorious son of Atreus, lord of men Agamemnon,
I remember all these things, heaven-nurtured, as you say;
and I will recount to you all things very well and truly,
the evil end of our death, how it came to pass.
We wooed the wife of Odysseus, long gone away;
and she neither refused the hateful marriage nor brought it to an end,
devising death and black doom for us,
but this other trick she planned in her mind:
she set up a great loom in the halls and wove,
fine and of great size; and straightway she said to us:
You young men, my suitors, since noble Odysseus is dead,
wait, eager though you are for my marriage, until I finish
this shroud, that the yarn I have spun not be wasted,
a burial garment for the hero Laertes, against the time when
the destroying doom of death that brings long sorrow lays him low,
lest some one of the Achaean women in the land blame me,
if he lies without a shroud, though he has won much wealth.
So she spoke, and our proud hearts were persuaded.
Then by day she wove the great loom,
and by night she undid it, when she had set the torches beside her.
So for three years she hid by trickery and persuaded the Achaeans;
but when the fourth year came and the seasons came round,
as the months waned and many days were brought to an end,
then at last one of the women told, who knew it well,
and we found her undoing the splendid web.
So she finished it, though unwilling, under compulsion.
And when she showed the shroud, having woven the great web,
having washed it, like the sun or the moon,
then at last some evil spirit brought Odysseus
to the edge of the field, where the swineherd had his dwelling.
There came the dear son of godlike Odysseus,
coming from sandy Pylos in a black ship;
and the two, having prepared evil death for the suitors,
came to the famous city, and Odysseus indeed
came later, but Telemachus led the way before.
And the swineherd led him, wearing evil clothing on his body,
like a wretched beggar and an old man,
leaning on a staff; and the wretched clothes he wore upon his body;
nor could any of us know him as he was,
suddenly appearing, not even those who were older,
but we reviled him with evil words and with throws.
But he for a time endured in his own halls
being struck and reviled with an enduring heart;
but when the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus roused him,
with Telemachus he lifted the very beautiful armor
and laid it in the chamber and closed the doors;
but he urged his wife, with her many wiles,
to set the bow and the gray iron before the suitors,
for us ill-fated ones, a contest and a beginning of slaughter.
Nor could any of us string the bowstring of the mighty bow,
for we were far too weak.
But when the great bow came into the hands of Odysseus,
then we all called out with words
that the bow should not be given, however much he might speak;
but Telemachus alone urged him and commanded it.
And the much-enduring, noble Odysseus took it in his hand,
and easily strung the bow, and shot through the iron,
and he stood, coming to the threshold, and poured out swift arrows
looking terribly about, and he struck Antinous, the king.
And thereafter he loosed painful shafts at the others,
aiming straight at them; and they fell in heaps.
And it was known that some god was their helper;
for at once, following through the halls with their own fury,
they kept killing on every side, and a shameful groaning rose from them
as their heads were struck, and all the floor flowed with blood.
So we perished, Agamemnon, and even now
our bodies lie uncared for in the halls of Odysseus;
for our friends in each man's house do not yet know,
who might wash the black gore from the wounds
and lay us out and lament; for that is the honor of the dead.
Then the soul of the son of Atreus answered him:
Blessed son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus,
surely with great virtue did you win your wife.
What good sense had blameless Penelope,
the daughter of Icarius; how well she remembered Odysseus,
her wedded husband; therefore her fame shall never perish
for her virtue, and the immortals will make a song
for men on earth, a pleasing one, for wise Penelope,
not as the daughter of Tyndareus devised evil deeds,
who killed her wedded husband, and a hateful song
shall be among men, and she gives a harsh report
to womankind, even to her who is virtuous.
So these two spoke such words to one another,
standing in the house of Hades, beneath the depths of the earth;
but the others, when they had gone down from the city, quickly came to the field,
the fair farm of Laertes, built by him, which once
Laertes himself had acquired, when he had toiled very much.
There was his house, and a shed ran round it on every side,
in which the necessary slaves ate and sat and slept,
who worked for him with love.
And in it was a Sicilian old woman, who tended the old man
carefully in the field, away from the city.
There Odysseus spoke a word to his slaves and his son:
You now go inside the well-built house,
and sacrifice at once the best hog for dinner;
but I will make trial of my father,
whether he will recognize me and perceive me with his eyes,
or will fail to know me, being long apart.
So saying, he gave battle-gear to the slaves.
They then went quickly to the house, but Odysseus
went near to the fruitful orchard, making trial.
He did not find Dolius, going down into the great garden,
nor any of the slaves nor of the sons; but they
had gone to gather stones for the wall of the orchard,
and the old man was leading the way for them.
But he found his father alone in the well-built orchard,
digging about a plant; and he wore a filthy tunic,
patched and shameful, and about his shins
he had bound stitched ox-hide greaves, guarding against scratches,
and gloves on his hands because of the briars; and above
he had a goatskin cap on his head, adding to his grief.
And when the much-enduring, noble Odysseus perceived him
worn by old age, and having great grief in his heart,
he stood beneath a tall pear tree and shed a tear.
And he pondered then in his mind and heart
whether to kiss and embrace his father, and tell him
each thing, how he had come and reached his native land,
or first to question him and try him in each thing.
And as he thought, this seemed to him the better way,
first to test him with mocking words.
Thinking this, the noble Odysseus went straight to him.
Indeed the old man was bending his head, digging about a plant;
and standing beside him, his splendid son spoke to him:
Old man, no lack of skill do you have in tending
the orchard, but your care is good, and in no way,
neither plant, nor fig tree, nor vine, nor olive,
nor pear, nor garden bed, is without care in the garden.
But another thing I will tell you, and do not put anger in your heart:
no good care is yours, but at the same time
you have wretched old age, and you are squalid and poorly clad and shamefully dressed.
It is not because of idleness that your master tends you,
nor does it befit you at all to be seen
as a slave in form and stature; for you are like a kingly man.
You are like such a one, when he has bathed and eaten,
to sleep softly; for that is the way of old men.
But come, tell me this and recount it truly,
whose slave are you among men? Whose orchard do you tend?
And tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well,
whether we have truly come to this Ithaca, as a man told me,
this man just now met as I was coming here,
not very sound of mind, since he did not dare
to tell me each thing or hear my word, as I asked
about my guest, whether he still lives and is
or has already died and is in the house of Hades.
For I will tell you, and do you understand and listen to me:
once I entertained a man in my dear native land
when he came to my house, and never yet had any other mortal
of far-off guest-friends come to my house as a friend;
and he claimed to be of the race of Ithaca, and he said
that Laertes, son of Arceisius, was his father.
I led him to my house and entertained him well,
kindly, since there were many things in the house,
and I gave him gifts of hospitality, as was fitting.
Of well-wrought gold I gave him seven talents,
and I gave him a mixing bowl, all of silver, flowered,
and twelve single cloaks, and as many rugs,
and as many fair sheets, and as many tunics besides,
and besides, women, knowing blameless works,
four, beautiful, whom he himself wished to choose.
Then his father answered him, shedding a tear:
Stranger, you have indeed come to the land you ask about,
but insolent and reckless men hold it;
and these gifts you gave for nothing, giving countless things;
for if you had found him alive in the land of Ithaca,
he would have sent you away, having repaid you well with gifts
and good hospitality; for that is right, for whoever gives first.
But come, tell me this and recount it truly,
how many years is it since you entertained that man,
that poor guest of yours, my son, if ever he was,
ill-fated? Whom somewhere far from friends and native land
either fish in the sea have eaten, or on the land
he became spoil for beasts and birds; nor did his mother
lament him and lay him out, nor his father, we who bore him;
nor did his richly dowered wife, wise Penelope,
wail over her husband on the bed, as was fitting,
closing his eyes; for that is the honor of the dead.
And tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well:
who are you among men, and whence? Where is your city and your parents?
Where stands your swift ship, which brought you here,
and your godlike comrades? Or have you come as a trader
on a ship belonging to others, and they have disembarked and gone away?
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
Therefore I will recount to you all things very truly.
I am from Alybas, where I dwell in famous halls,
the son of Apheidas, son of lord Polypemon;
and my name is Eperitus; but a god
drove me astray from Sicania to come here unwilling;
and this ship of mine stands at the field away from the city.
And for Odysseus this is now the fifth year,
since he went away from there and left my country,
ill-fated; yet surely his birds were good as he went,
on the right hand, and rejoicing in them I sent him away,
and he rejoiced as he went; and our hearts still hoped
to meet in hospitality and give glorious gifts.
So he spoke, and a black cloud of grief covered him;
and with both hands he took up the dark dust
and poured it over his gray head, groaning thickly.
And his spirit was stirred, and up through his nostrils
the sharp fury rushed, as he looked at his dear father.
And he kissed him and clung to him, springing upon him, and said:
That man is here, I myself, father, whom you seek;
I have come in the twentieth year to my native land.
But cease from weeping and lamentation and tearful groaning.
For I will tell you; and it is very necessary to make haste nonetheless:
I have killed the suitors in our halls,
avenging their painful outrage and their evil deeds.
Then Laertes answered him and said:
If indeed you have come here as Odysseus, my son,
tell me now some manifest sign, so that I may be persuaded.
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
First, this scar, mark it with your eyes,
which the boar struck me with its white tusk in Parnassus
when I went there; but you and my lady mother sent me
to my father Autolycus, my mother's dear father, so that I might receive
the gifts which he promised and pledged to me on coming here.
But come, I will tell you also of the trees in the well-built orchard,
which you once gave me, and I asked you for each one,
when I was a child, following you in the garden; and through them
we walked, and you named and told me each one.
You gave me thirteen pear trees and ten apple trees,
and forty fig trees; and you named the rows
you would give, fifty of them, and each one was
of varied grapes; and there are grapes of all kinds upon them —
when the seasons of Zeus come on heavily from above.
So he spoke, and his knees and dear heart were loosed,
as he recognized the signs which Odysseus had told him securely.
And he threw his arms about his dear son; and to himself
much-enduring, noble Odysseus caught him as he swooned.
But when he revived and his spirit was gathered into his breast,
again he answered him with words and said:
Father Zeus, surely the gods are still on high Olympus,
if truly the suitors have paid for their reckless outrage.
But now I greatly fear in my heart lest all the Ithacans
soon come here, and the tidings
they send everywhere to the cities of the Cephallenians.
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
Take heart, do not let these things weigh on your heart.
But let us go to the house, which lies near the orchard;
and there I sent Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd
ahead, so that they might prepare dinner quickly.
So speaking, the two went to the fair house.
And when they came to the well-built house,
they found Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd
carving much meat and mixing the flaming wine.
Meanwhile for great-hearted Laertes in his own house
the Sicilian handmaid bathed him and anointed him with oil,
and threw a fair cloak about him; and Athena
standing near made the shepherd of the people grow in limb,
and made him greater and more stout to look upon than before.
He came out of the bath; and his dear son marveled at him,
when he saw him like the immortal gods to look upon;
and he spoke to him, and addressed him with winged words:
Father, surely some one of the ever-living gods
has made you better in form and stature to look upon.
Then wise Laertes answered him and said:
Would that, father Zeus and Athena and Apollo,
as when I took Nericus, the well-built citadel,
the headland of the mainland, ruling over the Cephallenians,
such as I was then, I were in our house yesterday,
with weapons on my shoulders, to stand by and defend
against the suitors; then I would have loosed their knees
for many in the halls, and you would have rejoiced in your heart within.
So these two spoke such words to one another.
But when they had ceased from toil and prepared the feast,
they sat down in order on the benches and chairs;
then they set to the meal, and near at hand
came the old man Dolius, and with him the sons of the old man,
wearied from their work, since she had come forth and called them,
the Sicilian old woman, who nourished them and tended
the old man carefully, when old age had seized him.
And when they saw Odysseus and perceived him in their hearts,
they stood in the halls in amazement; and Odysseus
addressed them, accosting them with gentle words:
Old man, sit down to the meal, and forget your amazement;
for we have long been waiting in the halls, eager
to set to the food, always awaiting you.
So he spoke, and Dolius went straight to him with outstretched
both hands, and Odysseus took his hand and kissed his wrist,
and spoke to him, addressing him with winged words:
Dear friend, since you have returned, when we longed for it greatly
and no longer expected it—and the gods themselves brought you up—
welcome, and greatly rejoice, and may the gods give you prosperity.
And tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well,
whether wise Penelope already knows clearly
that you have returned here, or should we send a messenger?
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
Old man, she knows already; why need you trouble yourself about this?
So he spoke, and he sat down again on a well-polished chair.
And likewise the sons of Dolius about the famous Odysseus
did him honor with words and clung to his hands,
and in order they sat down beside Dolius, their father.
So these were busy about the meal in the halls;
and Rumor, as a messenger, went swiftly everywhere through the city,
telling of the hateful death and doom of the suitors.
And they, hearing it, came together each from another quarter
with wailing and groaning before the house of Odysseus,
and they carried out the dead from the house, and each buried them,
and those from other cities each to his own home
they sent, putting them on swift ships for the fishermen to carry;
and they themselves went in a body to the assembly, grieved at heart.
But when they were gathered and had come together,
Eupithes stood up among them and said:
for in his heart lay unforgettable grief for his son,
Antinous, whom noble Odysseus had killed first;
weeping for him he addressed them and said:
Friends, surely this man has devised a great deed against the Achaeans;
those whom he led with his ships, many and brave,
he destroyed the hollow ships and destroyed the men;
and those who came he killed, the best of the Cephallenians.
But come, before this man quickly reaches Pylos
or divine Elis, where the Epeians rule,
let us go; or even afterwards we shall always be downcast;
for this is a disgrace even for those to come to hear,
if indeed we do not avenge the murderers of our sons and brothers.
To me at least it would not be pleasant in my heart
to live, but may I die as quickly as possible and be among the dead.
But let us go, lest those men cross over first.
So he spoke, weeping, and pity seized all the Achaeans.
And near them came Medon and the divine bard
from the halls of Odysseus, when sleep had released them,
and they stood in the midst; and amazement seized each man.
And Medon, knowing wise things, spoke among them:
Hear me now, Ithacans; for Odysseus did not
contrive these deeds against the will of the immortal gods;
I myself saw an immortal god, who stood
near Odysseus and was in all things like Mentor.
And the immortal god at one time appeared before
Odysseus, encouraging him, and at another roused the suitors
and rushed through the hall; and they fell in heaps.
So he spoke, and pale fear seized them all.
And the old hero Halitherses spoke among them,
son of Mastor; for he alone saw before and behind;
he, with kindly thought, addressed them and said:
Hear me now, Ithacans, what I shall say:
through your own wickedness, friends, these deeds have come to pass;
for you did not obey me, nor Mentor, shepherd of the people,
to stop your sons from their folly,
who did a great deed in their evil recklessness,
wasting the possessions and dishonoring the wife
of a noble man; and they thought he would not return.
And now let it be so. Obey me as I speak:
let us not go, lest someone find added evil.
So he spoke, and they leaped up with a great cry,
more than half of them; but the others remained together there;
for the word did not please them in their hearts, but they obeyed
Eupithes; and at once they rushed to their armor.
But when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze,
they gathered together before the broad-wayed city.
And Eupithes led them in their folly;
and he said he would avenge the murder of his son, and he was not
to return back, but to meet his doom there.
But Athena spoke to Zeus, son of Cronus:
Our father, son of Cronus, highest of rulers,
tell me, who ask you, what does your mind hide within?
Will you further prepare evil war and dread battle,
or will you put friendship between the two sides?
Then cloud-gathering Zeus answered her and said:
My child, why do you ask and question me about this?
Did you not yourself plan this design,
that Odysseus should return and punish those men?
Do as you wish; and I will tell you what is fitting.
Since noble Odysseus has punished the suitors,
let them cut faithful oaths, and let him be king forever,
and we in turn for the murder of their sons and brothers
let us make a forgetting; and let them love one another
as before, and let there be wealth and peace in abundance.
So saying, he urged Athena, who was eager before,
and she darted down from the peaks of Olympus.
But when they had satisfied their desire for honey-sweet food,
much-enduring, noble Odysseus began the words among them:
Let someone go out and see that they are not near, coming on.
So he spoke; and the son of Dolius went out, as he commanded;
he stood, coming to the threshold, and saw them all near;
and at once he spoke winged words to Odysseus:
These are near; but let us arm ourselves more quickly.
So he spoke, and they sprang up and put on their armor,
four about Odysseus, and six the sons of Dolius;
and Laertes and Dolius also put on their armor,
gray though they were, but warriors by necessity.
But when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze,
they opened the doors and went out, and Odysseus led.
And near them came the daughter of Zeus, Athena,
like Mentor in form and in voice.
And much-enduring, noble Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her;
and at once he spoke to Telemachus, his dear son:
Telemachus, now you will yourself know this when you go into it,
where men fight and the best are distinguished,
not to shame the race of your fathers, who before now
have been distinguished in courage and manhood in all the world.
Then wise Telemachus answered him and said:
You will see, if you wish, dear father, that with this spirit
I will in no way shame your race, as you say.
So he spoke, and Laertes rejoiced and spoke a word:
What day is this for me, dear gods? Surely I rejoice greatly;
my son and my son's son have a contest over valor.
And standing beside him, bright-eyed Athena spoke:
Son of Arceisius, by far the dearest of all my comrades,
pray to the bright-eyed maiden and to father Zeus,
and at once, brandishing it, send forth the long-shadowing spear.
So she spoke, and Pallas Athena breathed great strength into him;
and when he had prayed to the daughter of great Zeus,
at once, brandishing it, he sent forth the long-shadowing spear,
and struck Eupithes through the bronze-cheeked helmet.
And it did not keep out the spear, but the bronze went right through,
and he fell with a thud, and his armor clattered upon him.
And Odysseus and his splendid son fell upon the front ranks,
and struck with swords and two-edged spears.
And now they would have destroyed them all and made them not to return,
had not Athena, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus,
cried out with her voice, and held back all the people.
Hold back from painful war, Ithacans,
so that you may be separated quickly without bloodshed.
So spoke Athena, and pale fear seized them;
and in their fear the weapons flew from their hands,
and all fell to the ground, at the voice of the goddess speaking;
and they turned toward the city, longing for life.
And much-enduring, noble Odysseus shouted terribly,
and gathered himself and swooped like an eagle of high flight.
And then the son of Cronus loosed a smoking thunderbolt,
and it fell before the bright-eyed daughter of the mighty father.
Then bright-eyed Athena spoke to Odysseus:
Zeus-born son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus,
hold back, and cease from the strife of equal war,
lest somehow the son of Cronus, wide-thundering Zeus, be angered at you.
So spoke Athena, and he obeyed, and rejoiced in his heart.
And afterwards Pallas Athena set oaths between the two sides,
the daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus,
like Mentor in form and in voice.

## Translation — Mouseia

> Mouseia's complete Plain English edition, made independently and directly from all twenty-four books of the Greek, line for line.

### Book 1

Tell me, Muse, about the man of many twists and turns, who wandered far
after he destroyed the sacred city of Troy.
He saw the cities of many peoples and learned how they think,
and he suffered many pains on the sea, in his heart,
fighting for his own life and his friends' journey home.
But even so he could not save his friends, though he wanted to.
They died through their own reckless folly,
the fools, who ate the cattle of Helios the Sun,
and the Sun took away their day of return.
Tell us about all this too, goddess, daughter of Zeus, starting anywhere you like.
Now all the others who escaped complete destruction
were home, safe from war and the sea.
But him alone, longing for home and his wife,
the goddess Calypso, beautiful among goddesses, kept
in her hollow caves, wanting him to be her husband.
But when the year came, as the seasons rolled around,
the year the gods had spun for him to go home,
to Ithaca, even there he was not yet free of struggles
or among his own family. All the gods felt sorry for him
except Poseidon. He was furiously angry
at godlike Odysseus, until he reached his homeland.
But Poseidon had gone far away to visit the Ethiopians,
the Ethiopians, who live divided in two, the most distant people,
some where the sun goes down, some where it comes up,
to receive a sacrifice of a hundred bulls and rams.
He sat there enjoying the feast. Meanwhile the other gods
were all together in the halls of Olympian Zeus.
The father of gods and men spoke first,
because he was thinking of blameless Aegisthus,
whom famous Orestes, Agamemnon's son, had killed.
Thinking of him, he said to the immortal gods:
"What a thing it is, how mortals blame the gods!
They say evil comes from us, but they themselves
bring suffering on themselves by their own folly, beyond what is destined,
just as Aegisthus, beyond his fate, married Agamemnon's wife
and killed him when he came back,
though he knew it meant destruction. We had warned him,
sending Hermes, the sharp-eyed messenger,
telling him not to kill the man or court his wife,
because Orestes would avenge Agamemnon
as soon as he grew up and wanted his own land back.
That is what Hermes said, but he could not change Aegisthus's mind,
good as his advice was. Now Aegisthus has paid for everything."
The goddess Athena, bright-eyed, answered him:
"Our Father, son of Cronus, highest of rulers,
he certainly got the death he deserved.
Let anyone else who does such things die the same way.
But my heart aches for clever Odysseus,
poor man, suffering so long far from his family,
on an island washed by the sea, the center of the deep,
a wooded island, and a goddess lives there,
the daughter of scheming Atlas, who knows the depths
of the whole sea, and who himself holds up the long pillars
that hold earth and sky apart.
His daughter holds the poor man there, weeping,
always coaxing him with soft, flattering words
so he will forget Ithaca. But Odysseus,
longing just to see the smoke rising
from his own land, wishes he were dead. And you, Olympian,
does your heart not care at all? Didn't Odysseus
give you pleasure with sacrifices by the Greek ships,
in broad Troy? Why are you so angry with him, Zeus?"
Zeus, the gatherer of clouds, answered her:
"My child, what a word has escaped your teeth!
How could I forget godlike Odysseus,
who is smarter than all other men, and who gave
more offerings to the immortal gods who hold the wide sky than anyone?
But Poseidon, the earth-shaker, is always
furiously angry about the Cyclops, whose eye he blinded,
the godlike Polyphemus, the strongest
of all the Cyclopes. The nymph Thoosa bore him,
the daughter of Phorcys, lord of the barren sea,
in a hollow cave, after sleeping with Poseidon.
That is why Poseidon, the shaker of the earth,
is not killing Odysseus. He just drives him wandering away from home.
Come on, let us all here plan together
how he can get home. Poseidon will drop
his anger. He cannot fight
all the immortal gods by himself, against their wishes."
Athena, bright-eyed, answered him:
"Our Father, son of Cronus, highest of rulers,
if the blessed gods want this now,
for wise Odysseus to return to his own home,
then let us send Hermes, the guide and messenger,
to the island of Ogygia, to hurry there and tell
the lovely-haired nymph our firm decision,
that steadfast Odysseus is going home.
Meanwhile I will go to Ithaca, to stir up his son
all the more, and put courage in his chest,
so he will call the long-haired Greeks to a meeting
and tell all the suitors off. They are always
butchering his fat sheep and his lumbering, curved-horned cattle.
I will send him to Sparta and to sandy Pylos
to ask about his father's return, in case he hears something,
and so people will speak well of him."
With that, she tied her beautiful sandals under her feet,
immortal golden sandals that carried her over the water
and over the endless earth as fast as the wind blows.
She took up her strong spear, tipped with sharp bronze,
heavy, big, and solid, the one she uses to break the ranks of heroes
whenever the daughter of a mighty father is angry.
She shot down from the peaks of Olympus
and stood in Ithaca, at the front gate of Odysseus' house,
on the courtyard doorstep, holding her bronze spear in her hand,
looking like a stranger, Mentes, chief of the Taphians.
She found the arrogant suitors. They were entertaining
themselves with board games in front of the doors,
sitting on the hides of cattle they had killed themselves.
Heralds and quick servants
were mixing wine and water in the mixing bowls,
others wiped the tables with sponges full of holes
and set them out, and others carved up piles of meat.
Telemachus, godlike, saw her first from far off,
because he was sitting among the suitors, grieving in his heart,
picturing his good father in his mind, if only he might come
and scatter the suitors out of the house,
and win honor himself and rule his own home.
Thinking this as he sat with the suitors, he saw Athena.
He headed straight for the gate, annoyed in his heart
that a guest had stood so long at the door. He came up close
and took her right hand and took her bronze spear,
and said to her, and the words flew out:
"Welcome, stranger. You will be treated well here. Then, after
you have had something to eat, you can tell us what you need."
He led the way, and Pallas Athena followed.
When they were inside the tall house,
he carried the spear and set it against a tall pillar
inside the polished spear rack, where many other spears
of patient Odysseus were standing.
He brought her to a chair and seated her, spreading a linen cloth under her,
a beautiful hand-carved chair, with a footstool under her feet.
He set his own decorated chair beside her, away from the others,
the suitors, so the guest would not be bothered by the noise
and dislike the dinner, surrounded by such arrogant men,
and so he could ask her about his absent father.
A maid brought a pitcher and poured water over their hands
from a lovely gold jug, over a silver basin,
so they could wash. She pulled a smooth table up beside them.
The respected housekeeper brought bread and set it out,
adding lots of food, generous with what they had.
A carver lifted platters of every kind of meat
and set them down, along with golden cups,
and a herald kept coming around pouring wine.
Then the arrogant suitors came in. They sat down
in a row on the chairs and benches,
and heralds poured water over their hands,
and slave women piled bread in baskets,
and young men filled the mixing bowls to the top with wine.
They reached for the food laid out before them.
When they had had their fill of food and drink,
the suitors turned their minds to other things:
music and dancing, that is what makes a feast.
The herald put a beautiful lyre in the hands
of Phemius, who sang for the suitors because he had to.
He plucked the strings and began a lovely song.
But Telemachus spoke to bright-eyed Athena,
leaning his head close so the others would not hear:
"Dear guest, will you be annoyed at what I am about to say?
These men only care about the lyre and the singing,
and they can do it easily, eating up another man's wealth for free,
a man whose white bones are rotting in the rain
somewhere on land, or the sea waves roll them around.
If they saw him come back to Ithaca,
they would all pray to be faster on their feet
rather than richer in gold and clothes.
But now he has died a bad death, and there is no comfort
for us, not even if some man on earth
says he is coming home. His day of return is lost.
But come, tell me this and tell me straight:
who are you, where do you come from? Where is your city, who are your parents?
What kind of ship did you arrive on? How did the sailors
bring you to Ithaca? Who did they say they were?
I do not think you walked here anyway.
And tell me this truthfully, so I know for sure:
is this your first visit, or are you a family friend
from long ago? Many men have come to our house
in the old days, since he travelled a lot among people."
Bright-eyed Athena answered him:
"All right, I will tell you exactly.
I claim to be Mentes, son of clever Anchialus,
and I am king of the Taphians, who love their oars.
I have come here now with my ship and crew,
sailing the wine-dark sea to people who speak other languages,
heading to Temesa for bronze, and I am carrying shiny iron.
My ship is anchored out in the country, away from town,
in the harbor of Rheithron, below wooded Mount Neion.
We say our families have been friends
from way back, if you went and asked the old man,
the hero Laertes. They say he does not come into town anymore,
but stays out in the country, suffering,
with an old slave woman who brings him food and drink
whenever tiredness takes hold of his legs
as he crawls along the slope of his vineyard.
I have come now, because they said he was here at home,
your father. But the gods are blocking his journey.
Godlike Odysseus is not dead yet on this earth,
he is still alive somewhere, held back on the wide sea,
on an island in the water, and rough men keep him there,
savages, who hold him there whether he likes it or not.
But I will make a prophecy for you now, the way the immortal gods
put it in my mind, and the way I think it will turn out.
I am no prophet, and I do not read bird signs well.
He will not be away from his own land much longer,
not even if iron chains hold him.
He will figure out how to get home, he is crafty.
But come, tell me this and tell me straight:
are you really that tall a son of Odysseus?
You look amazingly like him, your head and your handsome eyes,
and we used to see each other often,
before he sailed to Troy, where the other
best of the Greeks went in their hollow ships.
Since then I have not seen Odysseus, and he has not seen me."
Sensible Telemachus answered her:
"All right, stranger, I will tell you exactly.
My mother says I am his son. But I do not know
for sure. No one really knows who his own father is.
I wish I were the son of some lucky man,
a man who grew old surrounded by his own wealth.
But the son of the most unlucky man alive,
that is who they say I am, since you are asking."
Bright-eyed Athena answered him:
"The gods have not made your family nameless for the future,
since Penelope gave birth to a boy like you.
But come, tell me this and tell me straight:
what is this feast, what is this crowd? What do you need?
A dinner party, or a wedding? This is not a potluck, that is for sure.
It looks to me like these men are behaving outrageously
as they feast through the house. Any decent man would be disgusted
at all these shameful things, if he saw them."
Sensible Telemachus answered her:
"Stranger, since you are asking me about all this,
this house used to be rich and respectable,
back when that man was still around.
But now the gods have decided otherwise, planning evil.
They have made him disappear, beyond all
other men. I would not grieve like this if he had died
among his friends on Trojan ground,
or in the arms of his family when the war was over.
Then all the Greeks would have built him a tomb,
and he would have won great fame for his son afterwards.
But now the storm winds swept him off, unknown.
He is gone, unseen and unheard of, and to me grief and crying
he has left. And it is not only him I mourn and groan for,
because the gods have given me other troubles.
All the best men who rule the islands,
Dulichium, Same, and wooded Zacynthus,
and all those who are lords in rocky Ithaca,
all of them are courting my mother and wearing down my house.
She will not say no to the hateful marriage, and she cannot
finish it either. They are eating my house up,
and soon they will destroy me as well."
Pallas Athena, angry, said to him:
"Oh my, how much you miss Odysseus while he is away,
the man who would lay his hands on these shameless suitors!
If only he would come back now and stand in the front doorway,
with his helmet, shield, and two spears,
the way I first saw him
drinking and enjoying himself in our house,
coming back from Ephyra, from Ilus son of Mermerus.
Odysseus had gone there in his fast ship,
looking for a deadly poison so he could
put it on his bronze arrowheads. But Ilus would not
give it to him, he was afraid of the eternal gods.
But my father gave it to him. He was very fond of him.
If Odysseus came at the suitors like that,
they would all die fast, and their weddings would turn bitter.
But all that lies in the hands of the gods,
whether he will come home and pay them back, or not,
there in his own halls. And I am telling you to think
about how to drive the suitors out of the house.
Come on, listen to me and pay attention:
tomorrow, call the Greek heroes to a meeting
and tell them all what you think, with the gods as witnesses.
Tell the suitors to go back to their own homes,
and if your mother wants to get married,
let her go back to her powerful father's house.
They will arrange the wedding and get the bride price ready,
as much as a beloved daughter should have.
And here is my careful advice for you, if you take it:
get a ship ready with twenty oarsmen, the best one you have,
and go find out about your father, gone so long,
in case some man tells you something, or you hear a rumor
from Zeus, which is what usually brings men news.
First go to Pylos and ask godlike Nestor,
then from there to Sparta, to blond Menelaus.
He was the last of the bronze-armored Greeks to get home.
If you hear that your father is alive and coming home,
then even if you are struggling, you could last another year.
But if you hear that he is dead and gone,
come back to your own homeland,
build him a tomb and hold a funeral,
all the proper honors, and give your mother to a new husband.
Then when you have finished all that,
think hard, in your mind and heart,
about how to kill the suitors in your halls,
by trickery or out in the open. You should not
act like a child anymore, you are not that young.
Have you not heard what fame godlike Orestes got
among all people, when he killed his father's killer,
that scheming Aegisthus, who murdered his famous father?
So you too, my friend, I can see you are handsome and strong,
be brave, so that people yet to come will speak well of you.
Now I will go back down to my fast ship
and my crew, who must be anxious waiting for me.
You take care of your business, and pay attention to what I said."
Sensible Telemachus answered her:
"Stranger, you are speaking to me kindly,
like a father to his son, and I will not forget what you said.
But come on, stay a bit, even though you are in a hurry to go,
so you can bathe and refresh your spirits
and go to your ship with a gift, happy inside,
something valuable and lovely, a keepsake from me,
the kind of thing friends give to their guests."
Bright-eyed Athena answered him:
"Do not keep me here any longer. I want to be on my way.
Whatever gift your heart tells you to give me,
give it to me when I come back this way, to take home.
Pick something really nice. You will get something just as good back."
With that, bright-eyed Athena left,
flying off like a bird. In his heart
she put strength and courage, and made him remember his father
even more than before. He realized what had happened
and was amazed in his heart. He guessed she was a goddess.
Right away the godlike man went back to the suitors.
The famous bard was singing to them, and they sat
listening in silence. He sang about the Greeks' journey home
from Troy, the miserable return Athena had planned for them.
Upstairs, Icarius' daughter, thoughtful Penelope,
heard the divine song in her heart.
She came down the tall staircase of her house,
not alone, for two maids came with her.
When the shining lady reached the suitors,
she stood by the post of the sturdy roof,
holding her shiny veil up in front of her face,
and a loyal maid stood on each side of her.
Tearfully, she spoke to the godlike bard:
"Phemius, you know lots of other stories that charm people,
the deeds of men and gods, the things poets sing about.
Sit and sing one of those for them, and let them drink
their wine in silence. But stop this song,
this miserable song, which always wears down
the heart in my chest. It is the grief that hurts me most.
I miss that kind of man, remembering him always,
a man whose fame spreads through Greece and the middle of Argos."
Sensible Telemachus answered her:
"Mother, why are you jealous of the good bard
and will not let him entertain us however he wants? Bards are not
the ones to blame. Zeus is, who hands out
to each man whatever he wants to give.
Nobody blames him for singing about the Greeks' bad end.
People praise the newest song the most,
the one that is newest to the listeners.
Let your heart and spirit bear to listen.
Odysseus was not the only one who lost his day of return
at Troy. Many other men died there too.
Go back inside and see to your own work,
the loom and the spindle, and tell your maids
to get on with their tasks. Talking is for men,
all men, and especially me, since I am the man of this house."
She went back into the house, astonished,
because she took her son's sensible words to heart.
She went up to her room with her maids
and wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until Athena
put sweet sleep on her eyes.
The suitors started shouting through the shadowy halls,
and they all wished they could sleep with her.
Sensible Telemachus spoke first to them:
"Suitors of my mother, full of arrogant violence,
let us enjoy our dinner now, and no yelling.
It is a nice thing to listen to a bard
like this one, whose voice is like a god's.
But at dawn let us sit down in the assembly,
all of us, so I can tell you plainly:
get out of my house. Go hold your dinners somewhere else,
eating your own food, going from house to house.
But if you think it is better and nicer
to destroy one man's livelihood for free,
then go ahead. But I will call on the eternal gods,
in case Zeus grants that you get paid back for what you do.
Then you would die inside this house and no one would pay for it."
He said it. They all bit their lips,
amazed at Telemachus for speaking so boldly.
Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:
"Telemachus, the gods themselves must be teaching you
to talk big and speak so boldly.
I hope the son of Cronus never makes you king in sea-girt Ithaca,
though it is yours by birth from your father."
Sensible Telemachus answered him:
"Antinous, will you be annoyed at what I say?
I would gladly take that, if Zeus gave it to me.
Do you think being king is the worst thing that can happen to a person?
Being king is not bad at all. His house gets rich
fast, and he himself gets more respect.
But there are plenty of other Greek kings
in sea-girt Ithaca, young and old,
and one of them can have that power, since godlike Odysseus is dead.
But I will be the master of my own house
and of the slaves godlike Odysseus won for me."
Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him:
"Telemachus, that is in the hands of the gods,
who of the Greeks will be king in sea-girt Ithaca.
But you can keep your own property, and rule your own house.
I hope no man ever comes to take your property
by force while Ithaca is still a living place.
But I want to ask you, my good man, about your guest:
where this man comes from, what country he says
he is from, and where his family and homeland are.
Does he bring news that your father is coming home,
or did he come here for his own business?
How he jumped up and left right away. He did not even wait
to be introduced. He did not look like a bad person."
Sensible Telemachus answered him:
"Eurymachus, my father's homecoming is over.
I do not believe any news anyone brings anymore,
and I do not pay attention to any prophecy my mother
might ask a prophet about after calling him into the house.
This guest of mine is a family friend from Taphos.
He says he is Mentes, son of clever Anchialus,
and he rules the Taphians, who love their oars."
So Telemachus spoke, knowing in his heart she was the immortal goddess.
They turned back to dancing and lovely music,
and partied, waiting for evening.
Dark evening came as they were enjoying themselves.
Then each of them went home to bed.
Telemachus went to his room, a high room built
in the beautiful courtyard, in a clear open spot,
and lay in bed, turning many things over in his mind.
The woman who knew what was proper carried burning torches with him,
Eurycleia, daughter of Ops son of Peisenor.
Laertes had bought her long ago with his own wealth
when she was still young, paying twenty oxen for her,
and treated her in the house like his own good wife,
but he never slept with her, to avoid his wife's anger.
She carried the torches with him, and she loved him
more than any of the other slave women. She had raised him as a baby.
She opened the doors of the sturdy room,
and he sat on the bed and pulled off his soft shirt,
and handed it to the wise old woman.
She folded the shirt and made it neat,
and hung it on a peg by the bed frame,
and left the room, pulling the door shut with its handle
of silver, and slid the bolt shut with the leather strap.
All night long he lay there, wrapped in a fleece of wool,
planning in his mind the trip Athena had told him about.

### Book 2

When rosy-fingered Dawn, born of the morning, appeared,
the dear son of Odysseus got up out of bed,
put on his clothes and slung a sharp sword on his shoulder,
and tied fine sandals under his shining feet,
and walked out of his room looking like a god.
Right away he ordered the clear-voiced heralds
to call the long-haired Greeks to a meeting.
They called, and the men gathered fast.
When they had gathered and come together,
he went into the meeting, holding a bronze spear in his hand,
not alone: two fast dogs followed him.
And Athena poured wonderful grace over him.
Everyone stared at him as he came,
and he sat in his father's seat, and the old men moved aside.
Then the hero Aigyptius began speaking among them,
an old man bent with age who knew a thousand things.
His own dear son had gone off with godlike Odysseus
to horse-rich Troy in the hollow ships,
Antiphus the spearman; the savage Cyclops killed him
in a hollow cave and made him his last meal.
He had three other sons: one sat with the suitors,
Eurynomus, and two always worked their father's land.
But even so he never forgot him, mourning and grieving.
Pouring tears for him, he spoke to them:
Listen to me now, men of Ithaca, to what I say.
Our meeting has never been called, and nobody has sat here,
since the day godlike Odysseus left in the hollow ships.
So who called us this time? What need has come
to a young man, or to one of the older men?
Has he heard some report of an army coming,
that he could tell us clearly, now that he heard it first?
Or is he announcing some other public business?
He seems to me a good man, and lucky. May Zeus
bring him the good thing his heart is set on.
So he spoke, and Odysseus' dear son was glad at the words.
He did not sit still any longer — he wanted to speak.
He stood in the middle of the meeting, and a scepter was put in his hand
by the herald Peisenor, who knew wise advice.
First he spoke to the old man, taking him up:
Old man, the man who called the people is not far off — you will soon know,
and grief has hit me hardest.
I have heard no report of an army coming,
that I could clearly tell you, once I had heard it first,
and I am not announcing any other public business.
It is my own need, which has fallen on my house as trouble,
in two ways. First, I have lost my noble father, who once among you
here was king, and was gentle as a father.
And now something far bigger, which will soon
break up my whole house and destroy everything we live on.
The suitors have attacked my mother, and she doesn't want them,
the dear sons of the very men who are the best here,
who refuse to go to the house of her father
Ikarios, so that he could dower his daughter
and give her to whoever he liked and who pleased him.
Instead they come to our house every single day,
killing cattle and sheep and fat goats,
feasting and drinking the fiery wine
for nothing; and a lot of it is being eaten up. There is no man
like Odysseus anymore, to keep ruin away from the house.
And we are not the kind to defend it; and even then
we would be weak and know nothing of fighting.
I would defend myself, if I had the strength.
What they do can't be put up with any longer, and my house
is ruined, and not decently. Be ashamed yourselves,
and respect the other people who live around you
nearby; and fear the anger of the gods,
in case they turn things around, disgusted at these evil deeds.
I beg you by Olympian Zeus and by Themis,
who breaks up men's meetings and brings them to order:
hold back, friends, and leave me alone to be worn down
by this painful grief — unless somewhere my noble father Odysseus
did something bad to the Greeks, his enemies,
and you are paying me back for it in your hatred,
egging these men on. For me it would be better
if you ate my treasures and my livestock.
If you ate them, there might be payment someday;
because then we could go around town with our talk,
demanding our property back until it was all given.
But now you load my heart with grief that can't be acted on.
He said that in anger, and threw the scepter on the ground
and burst into tears; and pity took the whole crowd.
Then all the others were silent, and nobody dared
answer Telemachus with harsh words,
except Antinous, who alone answered and said:
Telemachus, loudmouth, out of control, what a thing to say,
shaming us! You would like to pin blame on us.
The Greek suitors are not to blame for your troubles,
your dear mother is, who knows more tricks than anyone.
It is already the third year now, and soon the fourth,
that she has been cheating the hearts in the Greeks' chests.
She gives hope to everyone, and promises each man,
sending messages, but her mind wants something else.
And she thought up this other trick in her heart:
she set up a big loom in the hall and wove,
a fine, huge piece of cloth; and right away she told us:
Young men, my suitors, since godlike Odysseus is dead,
wait, eager as you are for my marriage, until I finish
this cloak, so my weaving is not wasted,
a burial robe for the hero Laertes, for when
deadly fate and long-drawn death bring him down,
so no Greek woman in the land can blame me
if he lies without a shroud after gaining so much.
That is what she said, and our proud hearts were persuaded.
Then all day she wove the big cloth,
and at night she undid it, once she had set the torches beside her.
So for three years she fooled us with that trick and convinced us.
But when the fourth year came and the seasons came round,
one of the women told us — she knew for certain —
and we caught her undoing the shining cloth.
So she finished it, unwilling, forced to;
and here is the suitors' answer to you, so you know it
in your own heart, and all the Greeks know too:
send your mother away, tell her to marry
whoever her father says and whoever she likes.
But if she keeps annoying the Greek young men much longer,
thinking the thoughts in her heart that Athena gave her beyond others,
knowing beautiful crafts and having good sense
and tricks no one has heard of, even from women of the old days,
the Greek women of long ago with lovely hair,
Tyro, and Alcmene, and Mykene with the fine crown,
none of them had a mind like Penelope's —
but in this one thing she did not think sensibly.
Because they will eat your livelihood and your goods for as long
as she keeps this mind that the gods are now
putting in her breast. She wins great fame for herself,
but for you, the loss of a lot of your living.
And we will not go back to our own work, or anywhere else,
until she marries whichever Greek she chooses.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Antinous, there is no way to drive out of the house against her will
the woman who bore me and raised me. My father is somewhere else,
alive or dead. And it would be bad for me to pay a lot
to Ikarios, if I sent my mother away willingly.
I would get trouble from her father, and a god would give me more,
since my mother, leaving the house, would call down the hateful Furies,
and people would blame me.
So I will never say that word.
If your own hearts are outraged,
get out of my halls, and fix yourselves other dinners,
eating your own property, taking turns at each other's houses.
But if this seems better and preferable to you,
that one man's living be destroyed with nothing paid back,
go ahead, cut it up — but I will call on the gods who always exist,
in hope that Zeus grants that payback happens someday.
Then you would die inside my halls with nothing paid.
So Telemachus spoke, and Zeus who thunders far
sent two eagles flying from the top of a mountain.
As long as the two flew on the blasts of the wind,
close together, stretching out their wings,
but when they reached the middle of the crowded meeting,
there they wheeled around and shook their thick wings,
and looked at everyone's heads, and glared death,
and tearing their cheeks and necks with their claws,
they shot off to the right through their houses and their town.
The people were stunned at the birds when they saw them with their eyes,
and in their hearts they wondered what was going to happen.
Then the old hero Halitherses spoke to them,
son of Mastor; he alone of his generation was best
at reading birds and saying what was right,
and meaning well he spoke to them:
Listen to me now, men of Ithaca, to what I say,
and I am telling this mostly as a warning to the suitors:
a huge disaster is rolling toward them. Odysseus
will not be away from his loved ones long — somewhere
he is already near, and he is planting slaughter and death
for them all; and it will be bad for many others too,
who live on far-seen Ithaca. But long before that
let us think how we can stop them; and let them
stop on their own, because that is better for them right now.
I am not prophesying without experience — I know well.
I say that everything was fulfilled for that man,
just as I told him, when the Greeks went up to Troy
and Odysseus of many plans went with them.
I said that after suffering many troubles and losing all his men,
unknown to everyone, in the twentieth year,
he would come home. And now it is all coming true.
Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him:
Old man, go home and prophesy to your own children,
so they do not suffer some trouble later.
I am much better than you at prophesying about this.
Many birds fly around under the sun's rays,
and not all of them mean anything. But Odysseus
died far away — and I wish you had died with him.
Then you would not be making so many prophecies,
and you would not be stirring up Telemachus like this in his anger,
hoping for a gift for your house, if he gives one.
I will tell you straight, and it will happen too:
if you, knowing many old things, use your words
to trick a younger man into getting angry,
it will first of all be worse for him,
and he will not be able to do anything because of it;
and on you, old man, we will put a fine that you will hate
paying — and it will be painful for you.
And I myself will advise Telemachus in front of everyone:
let him tell his mother to go back to her father's house.
They will arrange a marriage and get together the bride-gifts,
a huge amount, as much as is right to go with a beloved daughter.
For I do not think the Greek young men will stop
this painful courting, since we do not fear anyone,
not Telemachus, for all his big talk,
and we do not care about prophecy, which you, old man,
tell and it never comes true — and you get more hateful for it.
And the property will keep being eaten up badly, and never equal,
as long as she puts off the Greeks
over this marriage. And we, waiting day after day,
compete over her excellence, and do not go after other women
whom each of us could decently marry.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Eurymachus, and all you other noble suitors,
I am not begging you for those things anymore, and not talking about them,
the gods already know them, and so do all the Greeks.
But come on, give me a fast ship and twenty companions
who can get the journey done with me there and back.
I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos
to ask about my father's return, since he has been gone so long,
in case some human tells me, or I hear a voice
from Zeus, which is what brings news to people most of all.
If I hear of my father's life and his return,
then, worn down though I am, I could still endure a year;
but if I hear that he is dead and no longer alive,
then after I come home to my dear native land
I will heap up a grave mound for him and hold his funeral rites,
a great many, as is fitting, and give my mother to a husband.
So he spoke and sat down, and among them rose
Mentor, who was a companion of blameless Odysseus,
and when he set out with the ships he put his whole household in his charge,
to obey the old man and keep everything safe;
with good will toward them he spoke and addressed them:
Hear me now, men of Ithaca, whatever I say:
let no sceptered king be kind and gentle any longer,
nor mindful of what is right in his heart,
but let him always be harsh and do reckless things;
since no one remembers godlike Odysseus
among the people he ruled, and he was gentle as a father.
But the proud suitors I do not begrudge
for doing violent deeds through the crooked plans in their minds;
for they risk their own heads and violently devour
the house of Odysseus, and they say he will never come back.
But now I am angry at the rest of the people, that all of you
sit in silence, and do not, by speaking out,
stop the few suitors, though you are many.
Then Leocritus, son of Euenor, answered him:
Mentor, troublemaker, fool in your wits, what a thing you have said,
urging us to stop. It is hard
for men to fight even against more, over a dinner.
For even if Odysseus of Ithaca himself came
and wanted in his heart to drive the noble suitors
out of his house while they were feasting there,
his wife would not be glad at his coming, much as she longs for him,
but he would meet a shameful fate right there
if he fought against more men; and you have spoken out of place.
But come, let the people scatter, each to his own work,
and let Mentor and Halitherses urge this journey on him,
who from the beginning are companions of his father.
But I think he will sit here a long time
waiting for news in Ithaca, and will never make this journey.
So he spoke, and broke up the swift assembly.
And they scattered, each to his own house,
and the suitors went to the house of godlike Odysseus.
But Telemachus went off by himself to the shore of the sea,
and washed his hands in the gray salt water and prayed to Athena:
Hear me, you who came yesterday to our house as a god
and told me in a ship over the misty sea
to go and ask about my father's return, since he has been gone so long;
but the Greeks put all this off,
and the suitors most of all, in their wicked arrogance.
So he spoke in prayer, and Athena came near him,
looking like Mentor in body and in voice,
and speaking she said to him:
Telemachus, you will not be a coward or a fool later on,
if indeed your father's good strength has dripped into you,
such as he was to finish a deed and a word;
then your journey will not be useless or unfinished.
But if you are not his child and Penelope's,
then I do not expect you to finish what you long for.
For few sons are like their father;
most are worse, and few are better than their father.
But since you will not be a coward or a fool later on,
and the cunning of Odysseus has not completely left you,
there is hope that you will finish these deeds.
So now let go of the plans and the minds of the suitors,
the senseless ones, since they are neither thoughtful nor just;
and they do not know death and black doom,
which is near them, that they will all be destroyed in one day.
And the journey you long for will no longer be far off;
for I am such a companion of your father's line,
I who will fit out a swift ship for you and go along with you myself.
But you go to the house and spend time with the suitors,
and get the provisions ready and stow everything in containers,
wine in jars, and barley, the marrow of men,
in tightly sewn skins; and I through the town
will quickly gather companions, willing men. There are ships
many in sea-girt Ithaca, new and old;
of these I will pick out for you whichever is best,
and quickly fitting it out we will launch it on the wide sea.
So spoke Athena, daughter of Zeus; and no longer long
did Telemachus wait, since he heard the voice of the god.
He went to the house, troubled in his dear heart,
and found the proud suitors in the halls,
flaying goats and singeing pigs in the courtyard.
And Antinous came straight at Telemachus, laughing,
and clung to his hand, and spoke a word and called him by name:
Telemachus, loud-talker, unrestrained in fury, let no other
evil deed or word be a care in your breast,
but eat and drink with me, as before.
All these things the Greeks will carry out for you,
a ship and picked rowers, so you may get there sooner,
to holy Pylos, for news of your noble father.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Antinous, it is not at all possible among you overbearing men
to feast and enjoy yourself without being hurt.
Was it not enough that before you cut down many fine
possessions of mine, suitors, while I was still a child?
But now that I am grown and hear other people's words
and learn, and my spirit grows within me,
I will try to bring evil deaths upon you,
either by going to Pylos, or here in this land.
I am going, and the journey I speak of will not be useless,
as a passenger; for I am no master of a ship or rowers;
so, I suppose, that seemed to you to be better.
So he spoke, and easily pulled his hand from Antinous' hand;
and the suitors busied themselves with the feast through the house.
And they mocked him and jeered at him with words.
And so one of the young overbearing men would say:
Truly Telemachus is planning slaughter for us.
Either he will bring defenders from sandy Pylos
or even from Sparta, since he is terribly eager;
or he wants to go to Ephyre, the rich farmland,
to bring back from there drugs that destroy the heart,
and put them in the mixing bowl and kill us all.
And another of the young overbearing men would say:
And who knows whether he too, going in a hollow ship,
may perish far from his friends, wandering as Odysseus did?
So he would bring even more trouble on us;
for we would divide up all his possessions, and his house
we would give to his mother to keep, and to whoever married her.
So they spoke, and he went down into his father's high-roofed chamber,
the broad one, where piled gold and bronze lay
and clothing in chests, and plenty of sweet-smelling olive oil;
and jars of old honey-sweet wine
stood there, holding the unmixed divine drink inside,
fixed in a row against the wall, in case Odysseus
should come home after suffering many hard things.
And there were close-fitting doors, tightly joined,
double-folding; and inside a woman housekeeper night and day
kept watch, guarding everything with the deep knowledge of her mind,
Eurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor.
Then Telemachus called to her and spoke to her at the chamber:
Nanny, come now, draw off wine for me in jars,
the sweet kind, the best after that one which you keep
in hope for that unlucky man, if he ever comes,
godlike Odysseus, escaped from death and doom.
Fill twelve jars, and put lids on them all.
And pour barley for me into well-stitched skins;
let there be twenty measures of ground barley meal.
And know this by yourself alone; let everything be ready together;
for in the evening I will take it, when
my mother goes up to her upper room and thinks about bed.
For I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos
to ask about my dear father's return, in case I hear something.
So he spoke, and his dear nurse Eurycleia cried out,
and wailing she said to him:
Why, dear child, has this thought come into your mind?
And where do you want to go over the wide earth,
you who are the only beloved one? And he perished far from his homeland,
godlike Odysseus, among people who did not know him.
And these men will plan evil things behind you as soon as you go,
so you may die by a trick, and they will divide all this up themselves.
But stay here, sitting among your own people; there is no need for you
to suffer harm on the barren sea or to wander.
Then wise Telemachus answered her:
Cheer up, nanny, since this plan is not without a god.
But swear that you will not tell these things to my dear mother,
at least until the eleventh or the twelfth day comes,
or until she misses me herself and hears that I have set out,
so that she does not, by crying, spoil her beautiful skin.
So he spoke, and the old woman swore the great oath of the gods.
But when she had sworn and finished the oath,
she straightway drew off wine for him in jars,
and poured barley for him into well-stitched skins.
And Telemachus went into the house and stayed with the suitors.
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, thought of something else.
Looking like Telemachus she went all through the city everywhere,
and standing beside each man she spoke a word,
and told them to gather in the evening at the swift ship.
And she in turn asked Noemon, the glorious son of Phronius,
for a swift ship; and he gladly promised it to her.
The sun set and all the streets were in shadow,
and then he dragged the swift ship to the sea, and in it
he put all the gear that well-benched ships carry.
He anchored it at the edge of the harbor, and around it good companions
gathered together; and the goddess urged each one on.
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, thought of something else.
She went to the house of godlike Odysseus;
there she poured sweet sleep over the suitors,
and confused them as they drank, and knocked the cups from their hands.
And they hurried to sleep throughout the city, and no longer long
did they sit, since sleep fell on their eyelids.
But bright-eyed Athena spoke to Telemachus,
calling him out of the well-built halls,
looking like Mentor in body and in voice:
Telemachus, your companions with fine greaves are already
sitting at the oars, waiting for you to set out;
but let us go, let us not delay the journey long.
So speaking, Pallas Athena led the way
quickly; and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.
But when they came down to the ship and the sea,
they found the long-haired companions on the shore.
And the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke among them:
Come, friends, let us bring the provisions; for everything is already
gathered in the hall. And my mother knows nothing of it,
nor the other slave women; one alone heard the word.
So speaking he led the way, and they followed along.
And they carried everything and on the well-benched ship
laid it down, as the dear son of Odysseus had ordered.
And Telemachus stepped onto the ship, and Athena led the way,
and sat down in the stern of the ship; and close beside her
Telemachus sat. And they untied the stern cables,
and went aboard themselves and sat down on the benches.
And bright-eyed Athena sent them a favorable wind,
a strong West Wind, whistling over the wine-colored sea.
And Telemachus urged on his companions and told them
to take hold of the gear; and they listened to him urging.
And the pine mast, inside the hollow mast-box
they raised and set upright, and tied it down with forestays,
and hauled up the white sails with well-twisted oxhide ropes.
The wind filled the middle of the sail, and around it the wave
roared loudly, dark purple, around the stem of the moving ship;
and she ran over the wave, cutting through her path.
And when they had tied up the gear through the swift black ship,
they set up mixing bowls full of wine,
and poured libations to the immortal gods who live forever,
and beyond all to the bright-eyed daughter of Zeus.
All night long she kept cutting her way, right on to the dawn.

### Book 3

The sun rose, leaving the beautiful lake,
and went into the bronze-colored sky, to shine for the immortal gods
and for mortal humans on the grain-giving earth.
They reached Pylos, the well-built city of Neleus,
and there on the shore of the sea the people were making holy sacrifice,
all-black bulls, to the Earth-Shaker with the dark blue hair.
There were nine seats, and in each one five hundred men
were sitting, and nine bulls were set before them at each one.
When they had tasted the inner organs and were burning the thigh pieces for the god,
the others came straight in and furled the sails of the well-balanced ship,
lifted them and moored the ship, and they themselves stepped out.
Telemachus stepped out of the ship, and Athena led the way.
The goddess, bright-eyed Athena, spoke to him first:
"Telemachus, you should no longer feel any shame at all, not even a little.
It was for this that you sailed the sea, so that you might learn
about your father, where the earth covers him and what kind of fate he met.
But come now, go straight to Nestor, the tamer of horses.
Let us find out what plan he is hiding in his chest.
You must beg him yourself to tell you the truth.
He will not tell a lie, because he is very wise."
Then sensible Telemachus answered her:
"Mentor, how should I go up to him? How should I greet him?
I have no experience yet with clever words,
and it is shameful for a young man to question an older one."
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:
"Telemachus, you will think of some things yourself in your own mind,
and a god will suggest other things to you, for I do not think
you were born and raised without the will of the gods."
With these words Pallas Athena led the way
quickly, and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.
They arrived at the gathering and the seats of the men of Pylos,
where Nestor was sitting with his sons, and around them his companions
were getting the meal ready, roasting meat and putting other pieces on spits.
When they saw the strangers, they all came up together,
greeted them with their hands, and invited them to sit down.
First Pisistratus, the son of Nestor, came up close
and took both their hands, and seated them at the feast
on soft fleeces on the sand of the sea,
beside his brother Thrasymedes and his own father.
He gave them portions of the inner organs and poured wine
into a golden cup, and speaking to her he addressed
Pallas Athena, the daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis:
"Pray now, stranger, to lord Poseidon,
because it is his feast that you have come upon here.
But once you have poured the libation and prayed, as is proper,
then give this man too the cup of honey-sweet wine
to pour a libation, since I think that he too
prays to the immortal gods, for all people need the gods.
But he is younger and is the same age as me,
so I will give you the golden cup first."
With these words he put the cup of sweet wine in her hand,
and Athena was glad at the sensible and upright man,
because he gave her the golden cup first.
At once she prayed many things to lord Poseidon:
"Hear me, Poseidon, holder of the earth, and do not refuse
us, as we pray, that these works be completed.
Give glory first of all to Nestor and his sons,
and then give to all the other Pylians a gracious return
together for this famous hecatomb.
And grant that Telemachus and I return home after finishing our task,
since we came here with our swift black ship."
So she prayed, and she herself brought it all to pass.
She gave Telemachus the beautiful two-handled cup,
and in the same way the dear son of Odysseus prayed.
When they had roasted the upper parts of the meat and pulled them off,
they divided the portions and ate the glorious meal.
But when they had set aside their desire for drink and food,
then the Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak to them:
"Now it is better to question and to ask
these strangers who they are, since they have enjoyed their food.
Strangers, who are you? From where do you sail the watery paths?
Is it on some business, or do you wander aimlessly
like pirates over the sea, who roam about
risking their lives and bringing trouble to foreigners?"
Then sensible Telemachus answered him
with courage, for Athena herself had put courage in his mind,
so that he might ask about his father who was gone,
and so that he might have good fame among people:
"Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans,
you ask where we are from, and I will tell you all of it.
We have come from Ithaca beneath the wooded mountain.
This business is my own, not public, that I am telling you.
I am searching for the wide fame of my father, in case I may hear it somewhere,
of godlike Odysseus, the enduring-hearted, who they say once,
fighting along with you, sacked the city of the Trojans.
About all the others, as many as fought against the Trojans,
we have heard where each one died by a miserable death.
But the son of Cronos made the destruction of that man alone unknown.
For no one can say for certain when he died,
whether he was killed on the mainland by enemy men,
or in the sea among the waves of Amphitrite.
So now I come to your knees, in case you are willing
to tell me of that man's miserable death, if perhaps you saw it
with your own eyes, or heard the story from someone else
as he wandered, for his mother bore him to misery.
And do not soften your words to me out of shame or pity,
but tell me plainly how you came upon the sight.
I beg you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus,
promised and carried out any word or any deed
among the people of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered troubles,
remember it for me now, and tell me the truth."
Then the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:
"Dear friend, since you have reminded me of the misery that in that
land we endured, we unrestrained sons of the Achaeans,
both all that we wandered with our ships on the misty sea
gathering plunder, wherever Achilles led,
and all that we fought around the great city of lord Priam.
There all the best men were killed.
There lies warlike Ajax, there lies Achilles,
there lies Patroclus, a counselor equal to the gods,
and there lies my own dear son, both strong and blameless,
Antilochus, fast beyond all in running and a fighter.
We suffered many other troubles besides those. Who among mortal humans
could tell all of that?
Not even if you stayed five years, or even six, and kept asking
about all the troubles that the godlike Achaeans suffered there,
would you reach your own homeland before growing weary of it.
For nine years we kept weaving troubles for them,
with every kind of trick, and only with difficulty did the son of Cronos bring it to an end.
There no one ever wanted to be compared to him in planning
face to face, since godlike Odysseus won by far
with every kind of trick, your father, if truly
you are descended from him. Amazement holds me as I look at you.
For your words are truly like his, and you would not think
that a younger man could speak so much like him.
There, as long as I and godlike Odysseus
never once spoke differently in the assembly or in the council,
but held one single spirit in mind and wise counsel,
we planned how things might turn out best for the Argives.
But when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,
and went into the ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans,
then indeed Zeus planned in his mind a miserable homecoming
for the Argives, since not all of them were sensible or just.
So many of them met an evil fate
from the deadly anger of the bright-eyed goddess born of a mighty father.
She set strife between the two sons of Atreus.
The two of them called an assembly of all the Achaeans,
senselessly and not in proper order, at the setting of the sun.
The sons of the Achaeans came weighed down with wine,
and the two told their speeches, the reason they had gathered the army.
There Menelaus urged all the Achaeans
to remember their homecoming on the broad back of the sea,
but it did not please Agamemnon at all, for he wanted
to hold the army back and offer holy hecatombs,
so that he might heal the terrible anger of Athena.
He was a fool, for he did not know that she would not be persuaded.
The mind of the ever-living gods is not quickly turned.
So the two stood exchanging harsh words,
and the well-greaved Achaeans jumped up
with a wonderful shout, and the plan was divided among them.
All that night we stayed awake, planning hard things
against each other, for Zeus was preparing a trouble of evil.
At dawn we dragged some ships into the bright sea
and put the possessions aboard and the deep-girdled women.
But half the army was held back, waiting
there beside Agamemnon, the son of Atreus, shepherd of the people.
Half of us embarked and sailed, and the ships
sailed very fast, and a god smoothed the great-gulfed sea.
When we came to Tenedos we made holy offerings to the gods,
longing for home, but Zeus did not yet plan our return,
cruel one, who stirred up wicked strife a second time.
Some turned their curved ships back
around lord Odysseus, the warlike and crafty one,
going back again to please Agamemnon, the son of Atreus.
But I fled with my gathered ships, as many as followed me,
since I knew in my heart that the god was planning evil.
The warlike son of Tydeus fled too, and roused his companions.
And late indeed fair-haired Menelaus came after us,
and in Lesbos he found us, as we were considering the long voyage,
whether we should sail above rugged Chios,
past the island of Psyria, keeping it on our left,
or below Chios, past windy Mimas.
We asked the god to show a sign, and he showed it to us,
and he ordered us to cut across the middle of the sea to Euboea,
so that we might escape the trouble as fast as possible.
A shrill fair wind rose up to blow, and the ships
ran very quickly over the fish-filled paths, and at Geraestus
they put in at night, and to Poseidon
we set many thigh pieces of bulls, after measuring the great sea.
It was the fourth day, when in Argos the companions
of the son of Tydeus, Diomedes the tamer of horses,
were mooring the well-balanced ships. But I kept on toward Pylos, and never
did the fair wind stop, once the god first sent it to blow.
So I came, dear child, without news, and I know nothing
about those others, which of the Achaeans were saved and which died.
But all that I have learned sitting in my own halls,
as is proper, you will find out, and I will not hide it from you.
They say the Myrmidons, the spearmen, came home safely,
whom the glorious son of great-hearted Achilles led,
and Philoctetes too, the glorious son of Poeas.
Idomeneus brought all his companions back to Crete,
those who escaped from the war, and the sea took none of them from him.
But about the son of Atreus you yourselves hear, though you are far away,
how he came home, and how Aegisthus planned his miserable death.
But that man paid for it in a truly wretched way.
So it is a good thing for a son to be left behind when a man
has died, since even he took revenge on his father's killer,
the crafty Aegisthus, who killed his glorious father.
And you, dear friend, for I see you are very handsome and tall,
be brave, so that someone of later generations may speak well of you.
Then sensible Telemachus answered him:
"Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans,
that man indeed took great revenge, and the Achaeans
will carry his wide fame for people in the future to hear.
If only the gods would give me such strength,
to take revenge on the suitors for their painful outrage,
who insolently plot reckless things against me.
But the gods have not spun out such prosperity for me,
either for my father or for me, and now I must endure it anyway."
Then the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:
"Dear friend, since you have reminded me of these things and spoken of them,
they say that many suitors, because of your mother,
in your halls against your will are plotting evil.
Tell me, are you being overpowered willingly, or do the people
hate you throughout the land, following the voice of a god?
And who knows whether he might come someday and take revenge on them for their violence,
either he alone, or all the Achaeans together?
If only the bright-eyed Athena were willing to love you
as she once cared for glorious Odysseus
in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered pains,
for I never yet saw gods loving a man so openly
as Pallas Athena stood openly beside him,
if she were willing to love you like that and care for you in her heart,
then some of those men would forget about their marriage.
Then sensible Telemachus answered her:
"Old man, I do not think this word will ever be fulfilled,
for you have spoken far too grandly, and amazement holds me. For me
these things would not happen even as I hope for them, not even if the gods willed it."
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:
"Telemachus, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth!
A god, if he wishes, can easily save a man even from far away.
I myself would rather, after suffering many pains,
come home and see the day of my return,
than die at home after arriving back, the way Agamemnon
died by the trick of Aegisthus and his own wife.
But truly, death that is common to all, not even the gods
can ward off from a man they love, once
the deadly fate of lingering death brings him down."
Then sensible Telemachus answered her:
"Mentor, let us no longer talk about these things, though we care about them,
for his homecoming is no longer real, but already
the immortal gods have planned death and black doom for him.
But now I want to ask and question another matter
of Nestor, since he knows about justice and the wisdom of others beyond all others.
For they say he has ruled over three generations of men,
so he looks to me like an immortal to look at.
Nestor, son of Neleus, tell me the truth:
how did the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon, die?
Where was Menelaus? And what kind of death did he plan for him,
Aegisthus the crafty one, since he killed a much better man?
Was he not in Argos of the Achaeans, but wandering somewhere else
among people, and Aegisthus took courage and killed him?"
Then the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:
"Well then, my child, I will tell you all the truth.
You yourself know how these things happened,
if you found Aegisthus alive in his halls
when the son of Atreus came from Troy, fair-haired Menelaus.
In that case no one would have poured a mound of earth over him even in death,
but the dogs and the birds of prey would have eaten him
as he lay on the plain far from the city, and none
of the Achaean women would have wept for him, for he planned a very great crime.
For we, while we were completing many labors there,
sat still, but he, at ease in a corner of horse-pasturing Argos,
kept charming Agamemnon's wife with many words.
At first she refused the shameful act,
the godlike Clytemnestra, for she had good sense in her mind.
And there was also a singer with her, a man whom the son of Atreus
had given many instructions when he went to Troy, to guard his wife.
But when the fate of the gods bound her to be subdued,
then he took the singer to a deserted island
and left him to become prey and a meal for the birds,
and he took her away to his own house, a willing woman with a willing man.
He burned many thigh pieces on the holy altars of the gods,
and hung up many offerings, woven cloths and gold,
after completing a great deed that he never hoped for in his heart.
For we sailed together, coming from Troy,
the son of Atreus and I, with friendly feelings for each other.
But when we reached holy Sunium, the headland of the Athenians,
there Phoebus Apollo came upon Menelaus' steersman with his gentle arrows
and killed him,
as he held the steering oar in his hands on the running ship,
Phrontis, the son of Onetor, who surpassed the tribes of men
at steering a ship, whenever the storm winds rushed at him.
So he was held there, though he was eager for the journey,
to bury his companion and carry out the funeral rites.
But when he too, going over the wine-dark sea
in his hollow ships, reached the steep mountain of Malea
as he sailed, then far-thundering Zeus planned
a hateful journey for him, and poured down a blast of shrill winds,
and monstrous waves swelled up, as big as mountains.
There he split the fleet, and drove some ships to Crete,
where the Cydonians lived around the streams of Iardanus.
There is a certain smooth rock, steep down into the sea,
at the edge of Gortyn in the misty sea.
There the South Wind drives the great wave toward the left-hand headland,
toward Phaestos, and a small stone holds back the great wave.
Some of the ships came there, and the men barely escaped destruction,
but the waves smashed the ships against the rocks.
And the five dark-prowed ships the wind and the water
carried and drove to Egypt.
So he, gathering much wealth and gold there,
wandered with his ships among people of other tongues,
and meanwhile Aegisthus planned these wicked things at home.
For seven years he ruled over gold-rich Mycenae,
after killing the son of Atreus, and the people were subdued under him.
But in the eighth year godlike Orestes came to bring him evil,
coming back from Athens, and he killed his father's killer,
the crafty Aegisthus, who had killed his glorious father.
And he, after killing him, feasted the Argives at the funeral
of his hateful mother and the cowardly Aegisthus.
On the same day Menelaus, good at the war cry, came to him,
bringing many treasures, as many as his ships had carried as cargo.
And you, dear friend, do not wander far from your halls for a long time,
leaving behind your property and the men in your house
who are so arrogant, in case they eat up all your
possessions, dividing them among themselves, and you go on a useless journey.
But I urge and command you to go to Menelaus,
for he has just come from somewhere else,
from those people, from where no one would hope in his heart
to come, whom the storm winds first swept off course
into such a great sea, from where not even birds
go in a year, since it is so great and terrible.
But go now with your ship and your companions,
or if you want to go on foot, a chariot and horses are here for you,
and my sons are here, who will escort you
to godlike Lacedaemon, where fair-haired Menelaus is.
Beg him yourself, so that he may tell you the truth.
He will not tell a lie, for he is very wise."
So he spoke, and the sun set and darkness came.
And among them the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, also spoke:
"Old man, truly you have told all this properly.
But come, cut out the tongues and mix the wine,
so that after pouring libations to Poseidon and the other immortal gods
we may think about sleep, for this is the right hour for it.
For the light has already gone beneath the darkness, and it is not proper
to sit long at the feast of the gods, but to go home."
So spoke the daughter of Zeus, and they listened to her as she spoke.
The heralds poured water over their hands,
and the young men filled the mixing bowls to the top with drink,
and they served it to all, pouring the first drops into the cups.
They threw the tongues into the fire, and standing up they poured libations.
But when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wanted,
then Athena and godlike Telemachus
both wanted to go to the hollow ship.
But Nestor held them back, speaking to them:
"May Zeus and the other immortal gods prevent this,
that you should go from me to your swift ship
like someone who is completely without clothes and poor,
who has no cloaks and no many blankets in his house,
to sleep softly, neither for himself nor for his guests.
But I have cloaks and beautiful blankets.
Surely the dear son of this man Odysseus
will not lie down on the ship's deck, as long as I
live, and afterwards my children are left in my halls,
to entertain guests, whoever comes to my house."
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:
"You have spoken well, dear old man, and it is fitting
for Telemachus to obey you, since that way is much better.
But he will now follow you, so that he may sleep
in your halls, while I will go to the black ship,
to encourage my companions and tell them each thing.
For I claim to be the oldest among them,
and the others who follow me are younger men in friendship,
all the same age as great-hearted Telemachus.
There I would lie down beside the hollow black ship
now, but at dawn I go to the great-hearted Cauconians,
where a debt is owed to me, not a new one
and not a small one. But you, since he has come to your house,
send him with a chariot and your son, and give him horses,
the lightest to run and the best in strength."
With these words bright-eyed Athena left,
looking like a sea eagle, and wonder seized everyone who saw it.
The old man was amazed as he saw it with his eyes.
He took Telemachus' hand and spoke a word and called him by name:
"Dear friend, I do not expect you to be a coward and a weakling,
if the gods follow you as guides when you are so young.
For none of the others who hold Olympian homes is like this,
but this is the daughter of Zeus, the most glorious Tritogeneia,
who also honored your noble father among the Argives.
But, lady, be gracious, and grant me good glory,
for me and my children and my respected wife.
And I will sacrifice to you a yearling heifer with a broad brow,
unbroken, which no man has yet led under the yoke.
Her I will sacrifice to you, pouring gold over her horns."
So he spoke in prayer, and Pallas Athena heard him.
The Gerenian horseman Nestor led the way for them,
for his sons and sons-in-law, to his beautiful house.
But when they reached the famous house of that lord,
they sat down in order on the benches and chairs.
The old man mixed a bowl of wine for them as they came,
sweet wine, which in the eleventh year
the housekeeper opened and untied the cover from.
From it the old man mixed a bowl, and he poured many libations
and prayed to Athena, the daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis.
But when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wanted,
each of them went to his own house to lie down.
The Gerenian horseman Nestor put him to bed there,
Telemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus,
in a pierced bed under the echoing portico,
and beside him Pisistratus of the good spear, leader of men,
who was still unmarried among the sons in the halls.
He himself slept in the inner room of the lofty house,
and his wife, the mistress, made ready the bed and the bedding for him.
When early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
the Gerenian horseman Nestor rose from his bed.
He went out and sat down on the polished stones,
which were in front of the lofty doors,
white and gleaming with oil. On these Neleus
used to sit before, a counselor equal to the gods,
but he had already been overcome by death and gone to Hades.
Then Gerenian Nestor sat there, the guardian of the Achaeans,
holding a staff, and his sons gathered around him in a crowd,
coming out of their rooms, Echephron and Stratius
and Perseus and Aretus and godlike Thrasymedes.
Sixth after them came the hero Pisistratus,
and they brought godlike Telemachus and seated him beside them.
The Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak to them:
"Quickly, dear children, fulfill my wish,
so that first of all I may propitiate Athena among the gods,
who came to me plainly, to the rich feast of the god.
But come, let one man go to the plain for a cow, so that it comes
as quickly as possible, and let the herdsman of the cattle drive it.
And let another go to great-hearted Telemachus' black ship
and bring all his companions, leaving only two behind.
And let another tell the goldsmith Laerces to come here,
so that he may pour gold around the cow's horns.
And let the rest of you stay here together, and tell the servant women
inside the famous house to prepare the feast,
and to bring seats and wood for around, and bright water."
So he spoke, and they all hurried. The cow came
from the plain, and the companions of great-hearted Telemachus
came from the swift well-balanced ship, and the smith came
holding in his hands the bronze tools, the ends of his craft,
an anvil and a hammer and well-made tongs,
with which he worked the gold. And Athena came
to meet the holy rites. The old charioteer Nestor
gave the gold, and he then poured it around the cow's horns,
working it carefully, so that the goddess might be glad to see the ornament.
And Stratius and godlike Echephron led the cow by the horns.
Aretus came from the room bringing water for the hands
in a flowered basin, and in his other hand he held barley grains
in a basket. Thrasymedes, steadfast in battle,
stood beside him holding a sharp axe in his hand, to strike the cow.
Perseus held the bowl for the blood. The old charioteer Nestor
began with the water for the hands and the barley grains, and he prayed much
to Athena, making the first offering, and threw the hairs from the head into the fire.
But when they had prayed and thrown forward the barley grains,
at once the high-spirited son of Nestor, Thrasymedes,
struck, standing close by, and the axe cut through the tendons
of the neck, and it released the cow's strength. The women cried out,
the daughters and daughters-in-law and the respected wife
of Nestor, Eurydice, the eldest of the daughters of Clymenus.
Then the men lifted the cow up from the broad-wayed earth
and held it, and Pisistratus, leader of men, cut its throat.
When the black blood had flowed out and the spirit left the bones,
at once they cut it apart, and quickly cut out the thigh pieces,
all in proper order, and covered them with fat,
making a double layer, and laid raw pieces on top.
The old man burned them on split wood, and poured gleaming wine
over them, and the young men stood beside him with five-pronged forks in their hands.
But when the thighs were burned and they had tasted the inner organs,
they cut up the rest and pierced it on spits,
and roasted them, holding the sharp-pointed spits in their hands.
Meanwhile beautiful Polycaste bathed Telemachus,
the youngest daughter of Nestor, son of Neleus.
When she had bathed him and anointed him richly with oil,
she threw a beautiful cloak and tunic around him,
and he stepped out of the bath, like the immortal gods in body.
He went and sat down beside Nestor, shepherd of the people.
But when they had roasted the upper parts of the meat and pulled them off,
they sat and feasted, and noble men rose up
to pour wine in golden cups.
But when they had set aside their desire for drink and food,
the Gerenian horseman Nestor began to speak to them:
"My sons, come, yoke the fair-maned horses for Telemachus
and bring them under the chariot, so that he may continue his journey."
So he spoke, and they listened to him and obeyed,
and quickly yoked the swift horses under the chariot.
The housekeeper woman put in grain and wine
and delicacies, such as Zeus-nurtured kings eat.
Telemachus stepped up into the beautiful chariot,
and beside him Pisistratus, son of Nestor, leader of men,
climbed into the chariot and took the reins in his hands.
He whipped them to go, and the two flew off not unwillingly
into the plain, and they left the steep citadel of Pylos.
All day long they shook the yoke, holding it on both sides.
The sun set and all the streets were shadowed.
They reached Pherae, to the house of Diocles,
the son of Ortilochus, whom Alpheus fathered as his child.
There they passed the night, and he set guest gifts before them.
When early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
they yoked the horses and climbed onto the painted chariot.
They drove out from the gateway and the echoing portico.
He whipped them to go, and the two flew off not unwillingly.
They came to the wheat-bearing plain, and there
they finished the journey, for the swift horses carried them along so well.
The sun set and all the streets were shadowed.

### Book 4

So they came to hollow Lacedaemon, the land of deep ravines,
and drove up to the house of glorious Menelaus.
They found him holding a wedding feast for many relatives,
for his son and his blameless daughter, in his own house.
He was sending the girl to the son of Achilles, the breaker of men —
because back in Troy he had promised and nodded his head
to give her, and now the gods were bringing the marriage about.
So he was sending her there with horses and chariots
to the famous city of the Myrmidons, where that son ruled.
And for his son he was bringing a bride from Sparta, Alector's daughter,
strong Megapenthes, born to him in his old age
from a slave woman; and the gods gave Helen no more children,
after she had first given birth to a lovely child,
Hermione, who had the beauty of golden Aphrodite.
So they feasted through the great high-roofed hall,
the neighbours and the clansmen of glorious Menelaus,
enjoying themselves; and among them a holy bard sang
playing the lyre, and two acrobats spun
through the middle of them as the song began.
But the other two, in the porch of the house, the two men and their horses,
the hero Telemachus and Nestor's splendid son,
stopped there; and lord Eteoneus came out and saw them,
the quick servant of glorious Menelaus,
and he went through the halls to tell the shepherd of the people,
and standing beside him he spoke winged words:
"Two strangers are here, Menelaus, raised by Zeus,
two men, and by birth they look like sons of great Zeus.
But tell me: should we unyoke their swift horses,
or send them on to someone else who will welcome them?"
Then, greatly upset, fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
"You weren't a fool before, Eteoneus, son of Boethous,
but now you talk like a child, like a senseless boy.
Surely the two of us came here after eating plenty of guest-meals
at other men's tables — if ever Zeus
lets us stop suffering in the future. So unyoke
the strangers' horses, and bring the men in to eat."
So he said, and the other ran through the hall and called
the other quick servants to follow him.
They loosed the sweating horses from under the yoke
and tied them to the mangers in the stable,
and threw spelt down for them and mixed white barley,
and leaned the chariot against the gleaming porch,
and led the men into the holy house. And when they saw it,
they were amazed all through the house of the Zeus-raised king:
for like the shining of the sun or the moon
was the high-roofed house of glorious Menelaus.
But when they had looked their fill with their eyes,
they stepped into the polished bathtubs and washed.
And when the maids had washed them and rubbed them with oil,
and thrown woolly cloaks and tunics around them,
they sat down on chairs beside Atreus' son Menelaus.
And a maid brought a pitcher and poured water over
a beautiful golden basin set on top of a silver one,
for them to wash; and she pulled a polished table up beside them.
And the respected housekeeper brought and set out bread,
adding lots of dishes, sharing freely what was there.
And the carver lifted and set before them platters of meat
of every kind, and put golden cups beside them.
And greeting them, fair-haired Menelaus said:
"Take the food and welcome. Afterwards,
once you've tasted dinner, we'll ask who you are
among men; your parents' family hasn't died out,
but you come from the family of Zeus-raised kings
who carry scepters — bad men couldn't father children like you."
So he said, and set the fat back of an ox before them,
roasted, taking it in his hands — the piece they had set aside for him.
And they reached their hands out to the ready food in front of them.
But when they had lost their hunger and thirst,
then Telemachus spoke to Nestor's son,
pulling his head close so the others wouldn't hear:
"Look, son of Nestor, dear to my heart —
the flashing of bronze through the echoing halls,
and of gold and amber and silver and ivory.
This must be what the court of Olympian Zeus is like inside,
there's so much of it, more than words; awe takes hold of me as I look."
And fair-haired Menelaus heard him talking,
and called out and spoke winged words to them:
"Dear children, no mortal could compete with Zeus —
his house and his possessions are immortal.
But among men, someone might compete with me in possessions, or might not.
For after much suffering and much wandering,
I brought them home in my ships and got back in the eighth year,
driven as far as Cyprus and Phoenicia and Egypt,
and I reached the Ethiopians and Sidonians and Erembi,
and Libya, where the lambs are born with horns straight away.
For there the flocks give birth three times in one full year.
And there no master and no shepherd lacks
cheese or meat or sweet milk,
but they always give milk to draw all year round.
While I wandered there, piling up a big living,
meanwhile another man killed my brother,
in secret, without warning, by the trick of his cursed wife.
So I don't rule over these possessions with any joy.
And you've probably heard this from your fathers,
whoever they are — since I suffered a lot, and lost my house,
a house that was very well settled, holding many good things.
If only I lived in my halls with even a third of it,
and those men were safe who died back then
in wide Troy, far from horse-pasturing Argos.
But still, mourning and grieving for them all,
often as I sit in my halls,
sometimes I cheer my heart with crying, sometimes
I stop; for you get sick of cold grief quickly.
For all of them I don't grieve as much, grieving as I am,
as for one man, who makes sleep and food hateful to me
when I remember him — no other Greek worked so hard
as Odysseus worked and endured. And yet for him
sorrows were coming, and for me grief I'll never forget
for that man, because he's been gone so long, and we don't know
whether he's alive or dead. And surely they mourn him,
old Laertes and sensible Penelope
and Telemachus, whom he left as a newborn in his house."
So he said, and stirred in the other a longing to cry for his father.
He let a tear fall from his eyelids to the ground when he heard about his father,
holding his purple cloak up in front of his eyes
with both hands. And Menelaus noticed him,
and then wondered in his heart and mind
whether he should let him remember his father on his own,
or first question him and test him on everything.
While he was turning this over in his heart and mind,
out of her sweet-smelling high-roofed room came Helen,
looking like Artemis with the golden distaff.
And with her Adreste set out a well-made chair,
and Alcippe brought a rug of soft wool,
and Phylo brought a silver basket, which Alcandra had given her,
the wife of Polybus, who lived in Egyptian Thebes,
where the greatest wealth lies in the houses;
he gave Menelaus two silver bathtubs,
and two tripods, and ten talents of gold.
And separately Helen, his wife, gave him beautiful gifts:
a golden distaff and a basket on wheels,
made of silver, with the rims worked in gold.
This the maid Phylo brought and set beside her,
stuffed with finely made yarn; and on top of it
lay the distaff, holding violet-dark wool.
She sat down in the chair, and a footstool was under her feet.
And right away she asked her husband about everything:
"Do we know, Menelaus, raised by Zeus, who these men are
who claim to have come to our house?
Should I lie, or should I tell the truth? My heart tells me to.
For I say I've never seen anyone so much alike —
not a man or a woman — awe takes hold of me as I look —
as this man is like the son of great-hearted Odysseus,
Telemachus, whom that man left as a newborn in his house,
when for my sake, shameless dog that I am, the Greeks
came to Troy, planning a bold war."
Then fair-haired Menelaus answered her:
"I think the same now, lady, as you're guessing.
For his feet were like that, and his hands like that,
and the look in his eyes, and his head, and the hair on top."
And just now, remembering Odysseus,
I was telling how much he suffered and worked
for my sake, and he let a bitter tear fall from under his brows,
holding his purple cloak up in front of his eyes."
Then Nestor's son Peisistratus answered him:
"Menelaus, raised by Zeus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,
this really is that man's son, just as you say;
but he's sensible, and he's ashamed in his heart
to come here and, right at first, show off his talking
face to face with you, whose voice we enjoy like a god's.
But old Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, sent me
to come along with him as an escort; for he wanted to see you,
so you might put some word or some plan in his mind.
For many troubles come to the son of a father who's gone
in his halls, when he has no other helpers,
as now for Telemachus — his father is gone, and there are no others
in the district who might fend off ruin from him."
Then fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
"Oh! So the son of a dear man has come to my house,
the man who worked through many hard trials for my sake.
And I said I'd love him more than the other
Greeks if he came, if over the sea Olympian Zeus who thunders wide
granted that we two got home safe in our swift ships.
And I would have settled a city for him in Argos and built him a house,
bringing him from Ithaca with his possessions and his son
and all his people, after sacking one city
of those that lie around me and are ruled by me.
And we'd often be together here; and nothing
would have separated us, loving each other and enjoying it,
until the dark cloud of death covered us over.
But that, I suppose, some god was going to begrudge,
the god who made that poor man, alone, never to come home."
So he said, and stirred in them all a longing to cry.
Argive Helen cried, the daughter of Zeus,
and Telemachus cried, and Atreus' son Menelaus,
and Nestor's son didn't keep his eyes dry either;
for he remembered blameless Antilochus in his heart,
whom the splendid son of shining Dawn had killed.
Remembering him, he spoke winged words:
"Son of Atreus, old Nestor used to say
you were the wisest of mortals, above all others,
whenever we talked about you in his halls
and spoke with each other.
And now, if there's any way, listen to me; for I for one
don't enjoy crying after dinner, but early-born
dawn will be here; and I wouldn't begrudge
crying for any mortal who dies and meets his fate.
For this is the only honor for poor mortals:
to cut the hair and let a tear fall from the cheeks.
For my brother is dead too, and no worst man
among the Greeks — you must know him; for I for one
never met him or saw him; but they say Antilochus
was the best of the others at running and at fighting."
Then fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
"Dear friend, since you've said what a wise man
would say and do, even one older than you —
for that's the kind of father you have, and you speak wisely —
a man's child is easy to recognize, when the son of Cronus
spins out wealth for him at his marriage and at his birth,
as he has now given to Nestor all his days:
that he himself grow sleek and old in his halls,
and his sons be wise and the best with the spear.
But let's drop the crying that just happened,
and think about dinner again, and let them pour
water over our hands. There'll be plenty of talk
at dawn for Telemachus and me to share with each other."
So he said, and Asphalion poured water over their hands,
the quick servant of glorious Menelaus.
And they reached their hands out to the ready food in front of them.
Then Helen, daughter of Zeus, thought of something else:
right away she dropped a drug into the wine they were drinking,
a drug that takes away grief and anger and makes you forget all troubles.
Whoever swallowed it, once it was mixed in the bowl,
couldn't let a tear fall down his cheeks all day,
not even if his mother and father both died,
or if his brother or dear son right in front of him
were cut down with bronze while he watched with his own eyes.
Such were the clever drugs the daughter of Zeus had,
good ones, which Polydamna gave her, the wife of Thon,
an Egyptian — for there the grain-giving earth grows the most
drugs, many good ones mixed in, and many harmful;
and every man there is a doctor who knows more than all
other men; for they come from the family of Paeon.
But when she'd dropped it in and told them to pour the wine,
again she spoke and answered them with words:
"Menelaus, raised by Zeus, son of Atreus, and you here,
sons of good men — Zeus gives good and evil
to one man at one time, to another at another; he can do anything —
come on, sit and feast in the halls
and enjoy the talk; for I'll tell you things that fit.
I couldn't tell or name them all,
all the hard trials that enduring Odysseus went through;
but take this one thing that strong man did and endured
in the land of the Trojans, where you Greeks suffered troubles.
He beat his own body with shameful blows,
threw a ragged cloth over his shoulders, looking like a slave,
and sneaked into the wide-streeted city of the enemy men;
and hiding himself, he pretended to be a different man,
a beggar, one who was nothing like that among the Greek ships.
Looking like him he entered the city of the Trojans, and they all
were fooled; but I alone recognized him as he was,
and questioned him; but he dodged me with his cunning.
But when I had bathed him and rubbed him with oil,
and dressed him in clothes and swore a strong oath
not to reveal Odysseus among the Trojans until
he got back to the swift ships and the huts,
then he told me the whole plan of the Greeks.
And after killing many Trojans with the long-pointed bronze
he came back to the Greeks, bringing back a lot of news.
Then the other Trojan women wailed loudly; but my own heart
was glad, because my mind had already turned to going
home again, and I was sorry for the ruin that Aphrodite
gave me, when she led me there from my own dear homeland,
leaving behind my child and my bedroom and my husband,
who lacked nothing in brains or in looks."
Then fair-haired Menelaus answered her:
"Yes, lady, you've told all this the way it should be told.
For I've learned the thinking and the mind of many
heroic men, and I've traveled over a lot of land;
but I've never yet seen with my own eyes anyone
like the dear heart of enduring Odysseus.
What a thing that strong man did and endured —
inside the polished horse, where we all sat, the best
of the Greeks, bringing slaughter and death to the Trojans.
Then you came there; and some god was about to send you,
the spirit that wanted to give glory to the Trojans;
and godlike Deiphobus came along with you as you went.
Three times you walked around the hollow ambush, feeling it with your hands,
and you called out by name the best of the Greeks,
making your voice sound like their wives' voices.
But I and the son of Tydeus and brilliant Odysseus,
sitting in the middle, heard how you shouted.
The two of us were hot to jump out
or to answer right away from inside;
but Odysseus held us back and stopped us, eager as we were.
Then all the other sons of the Greeks were silent,
but Anticlus alone wanted to answer you with words.
But Odysseus pressed his hand over his mouth
without letting up, with his strong hands, and saved all the Greeks;
and he held him like that until Pallas Athena led you away."
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
"Menelaus, raised by Zeus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,
that's the worse for it; none of that stopped his cruel death,
not even if his heart inside was made of iron.
But come, send us to bed, so we too can right now
lie down and enjoy sweet sleep."
So he said, and Argive Helen told the maids
to set up beds under the portico and throw on beautiful
purple blankets and spread rugs on top,
and put woolly cloaks on top to cover themselves with.
And they went out of the hall with torches in their hands,
and made the beds; and a herald led the guests out.
So they slept there in the front court of the house,
the hero Telemachus and Nestor's splendid son;
and Atreus' son slept in the inner corner of the lofty house,
and beside him lay Helen of the long robes, shining among women.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
Menelaus, good at the war cry, got up from his bed,
put on his clothes, slung a sharp sword over his shoulder,
tied beautiful sandals under his shining feet,
and went out of the bedroom, looking like a god,
and sat down beside Telemachus, and spoke a word and called him by name:
"What need brought you here, hero Telemachus,
to shining Lacedaemon, over the broad back of the sea?
Public business or your own? Tell me this for certain."
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
"Menelaus, raised by Zeus, son of Atreus, leader of hosts,
I've come, in case you can tell me some news of my father.
My house is being eaten up, my rich fields are ruined,
and my house is full of hostile men, who always
slaughter my crowding sheep and my shambling, crook-horned cattle —
my mother's suitors, acting with arrogant violence.
So now I come to your knees as a beggar, in case you're willing
to tell me about that man's cruel death, if you've seen it anywhere
with your own eyes, or heard the word from someone else
as he wandered; for his mother bore him for sorrow.
And don't soothe me out of shame or pity,
but tell me well how you ran into that sight.
I beg you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus,
promised some word or did some deed for you
in the land of the Trojans, where you Greeks suffered troubles,
remember that now for me, and tell me the truth."
Then, greatly upset, fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
"Oh no — so it's a strong-hearted man's bed
that these weaklings wanted to lie in!
Like when a deer in a thicket has put her newborn, milk-fed fawns
to sleep, and roams over the slopes and grassy hollows
to graze, and then a strong lion comes to that bed of hers
and brings a shameful death on both of them —
so will Odysseus bring a shameful death on those men.
I wish, father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,
that he were the man he once was in well-built Lesbos,
when he stood up and wrestled with Philomeleides in a contest,
and threw him hard, and all the Greeks cheered —
such a man might Odysseus be among the suitors!
Then all of them would die fast and have bitter weddings.
But as for what you're asking me and begging me for, I for one
won't say anything different, dodging sideways, and I won't trick you,
but I'll tell you what the old man of the sea told me, and he tells the truth;
I won't hide a single word of it from you or keep it back.
"The gods still held me in Egypt when I was eager to get home,
because I hadn't offered them complete sacrifices.
For the gods always want people to remember their commands.
There's an island out in the much-surging sea,
in front of Egypt, and people call it Pharos,
as far away as a hollow ship can go
in one whole day, when a shrill fair wind blows behind her.
And it has a good harbor, where men launch
their balanced ships into the sea after drawing dark water.
The gods held me there twenty days, and no fair winds
ever showed up blowing, the winds that
guide ships over the broad back of the sea.
And by now all my supplies would have run out and my men's strength too,
if one of the gods hadn't pitied me and saved me,
the daughter of mighty Proteus, the old man of the sea,
Eidothea; for I stirred her heart most of all.
She met me wandering alone, away from my companions;
for they were always roaming around the island fishing
with bent hooks, and hunger was wearing out their bellies.
And she stood near me and spoke a word and said:
'You're very foolish, stranger, and weak in the head,
or you're giving up willingly and enjoying your suffering.
How long have you been stuck on this island, and you can't
find any way out, and your companions' hearts are failing?'
So she said, and I answered her and said:
'I'll tell you, whoever of the goddesses you are,
that I'm not held here willingly, but I must have
offended the immortals who hold the wide heaven.
But you tell me — the gods know everything —
which of the immortals traps me and has blocked my road,
and how I'll get across the fish-filled sea.'
So I said, and the shining goddess answered right away:
'Then I'll tell you, stranger, very exactly.
An old man of the sea roams around here, and he tells the truth,
an immortal Egyptian, Proteus, who knows the depths
of all the sea, and serves under Poseidon;
and they say he's my father and that he fathered me.
If you could somehow lie in wait and grab him,
he'd tell you your route and the distances of your journey,
and how you'll get across the fish-filled sea.
And he'd tell you, Zeus-raised one, if you want,
whatever evil and good has been done in your halls
while you've been gone on the long, painful road.'
So she said, and I answered her and said:
'Now you yourself plan the ambush of this divine old man,
in case he sees me coming or finds out and escapes;
for it's hard for a mortal man to beat a god.'
So I said, and the shining goddess answered right away:
'Then I'll tell you, stranger, very exactly.
When the sun has climbed to the middle of the sky,
then the old man of the sea comes up out of the salt water,
under the breath of the West Wind, hidden in dark rippling water,
and once he's out he sleeps under the hollow caves;
and around him the seals, children of the beautiful sea goddess,
sleep in a herd, risen up out of the gray sea,
breathing out the sharp smell of the deep salt water.
There I'll lead you at dawn when it shows,
and lay you down in a row; and you pick out three good
companions, the best ones beside your well-benched ships.
And I'll tell you all the treacherous tricks of that old man.
First he'll go and count the seals;
and when he's counted them all by fives and looked them over,
he'll lie down in the middle of them like a shepherd among his sheep.
And as soon as you see him lying down asleep,
then let your strength and force be ready,
and hold him there while he struggles, eager as he is to escape.
And he'll try every shape of everything that creeps
on the earth, and water and blazing fire;
but you hold on without letting go, and squeeze him harder.
But when at last he himself questions you with words,
being just as you saw him when he lay down,
then at last relax your grip and let the old man go,
hero, and ask him which of the gods is angry with you,
and how you'll get across the fish-filled sea."
So saying that, she dove down under the surging sea.
But I went to the ships, where they stood on the sand,
my supplies; and my heart churned a lot inside me as I went.
But when I got down to the ship and the sea,
and we had made dinner ready, and immortal night came on,
then we lay down to sleep on the edge of the sea.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then along the shore of the wide-pathed sea
I went, praying a lot to the gods; and three of my companions
I led along, the men I trusted most in every way.
Meanwhile she, diving down into the broad bay of the sea,
brought up four sealskins from the deep;
they were all freshly flayed; and she was planning a trick against her father.
And she had dug out beds in the sands by the shore,
and sat waiting; and we came very close to her.
And she laid us down in a row, and threw a hide over each of us.
There the ambush would have been the most awful thing; for it tortured us badly,
the deadly stink of the sea-fed seals.
For who would lie down to sleep next to a sea monster?
But she herself saved us and thought up a big help:
she brought ambrosia and put it under each man's nose,
smelling very sweet, and killed the monster's stink.
And all morning we waited with patient hearts;
and the seals came out of the sea in crowds. Then they
lay down in rows along the edge of the sea;
and at noon the old man came out of the sea, and found the seals
well fed, and went along all of them, and counted their number;
and he counted us first among the monsters, and nothing in his heart
suspected there was a trick; then he lay down too.
But we rushed at him with a shout, and threw our arms
around him; and the old man didn't forget his crafty skill,
but first of all he turned into a deep-maned lion,
and then a snake and a leopard and a big boar;
and he turned into wet water and a tall leafy tree;
but we held on without letting go, with patient hearts.
But when at last the old man, who knew treacherous things, got tired,
then he questioned me with words and said:
'Who of the gods, son of Atreus, planned these plans with you,
so that you took me by ambush against my will? What do you want?'
So he said, and I answered him and said:
'You know, old man, why you're asking me these things to turn me aside.
How long have I been stuck on this island, and I can't
find any way out, and my heart fails inside me.
But you tell me — the gods know everything —
which of the immortals traps me and has blocked my road,
and how I'll get across the fish-filled sea.'
So I said, and he answered me right away and said:
'Ah, but you should have offered fine sacrifices to Zeus
and the other gods before you set out, so that you could come
as fast as possible to your homeland, sailing over the wine-dark sea.
For it isn't your fate to see your friends and reach
your well-built home and your homeland before
you go back to the water of the river of Egypt, fed by rain,
and offer sacred sacrifices
to the immortal gods who hold the wide heaven;
and then the gods will give you the journey you're longing for.'
So he said, and my own dear heart broke inside me,
because he told me to go back over the misty sea
to Egypt, a long and painful trip.
But even so I answered him with words:
'All that I'll do, old man, just as you tell me.
But come, tell me this and relate it exactly:
did all the Greeks get home unharmed in their ships,
the ones Nestor and I left behind when we sailed from Troy,
or did someone die a cruel death on his own ship
or in the hands of friends, after he'd finished the war?'
So I said, and he answered me right away and said:
'Son of Atreus, why are you asking me this? It's not for you
to know it, or to learn my thoughts; and I don't think
you'll be long without crying once you hear it all properly.
For many of them died, and many were left behind;
and of the leaders, only two of the bronze-clad Greeks
died on the way home; and you yourself were there at the battle.
And one more is still being held alive, somewhere on the wide sea.
Ajax died among his long-oared ships.
First Poseidon drove him onto the Gyraean
rocks, and saved him from the sea;
and he would have escaped death, though Athena hated him,
if he hadn't let out a boastful word and been completely blinded;
he said he'd escaped the great gulf of the sea against the gods' will.
And Poseidon heard him shout it out;
right away then he took his trident in his strong hands
and struck the Gyraean rock and split it in two;
and one part stayed there, and the piece fell into the sea,
the piece Ajax had first sat on, and he was completely doomed;
and it carried him over the endless surging sea.
So he died there, when he drank the salt water.
But your brother, I suppose, escaped death and got away
in his hollow ships; and lady Hera saved him.
But when he was just about to reach the steep
mountain of Malea, then a storm snatched him up
and carried him over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily,
to the edge of the countryside, where Thyestes once
had his house, but then Thyestes' son Aegisthus lived there.
But when a safe homecoming even from there appeared,
and the gods turned the wind around, and they got home,
then he stepped gladly onto his homeland
and kissed and touched his own land; and from him many
hot tears poured out, since he was glad to see the land.
But a lookout saw him from the watchtower, the one
crafty Aegisthus had put there, and he promised him a payment,
two talents of gold; and he watched for a year,
in case he slipped past, so he could remember his fierce courage.
And he went to the house to tell the shepherd of the people.
Right away Aegisthus thought up a cunning plan;
picking twenty of the best men in the district
he set them in ambush, and elsewhere he ordered a feast to be made ready.
Then he went to invite Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,
with horses and chariots, thinking shameful thoughts.
And he brought him up, not knowing his death was coming, and killed him
after feeding him, the way a man kills an ox at the manger.
And none of Atreus' son's companions who came with him survived,
and none of Aegisthus' men either, but they were killed in the halls.
So he said, and my own dear heart broke inside me,
and I cried, sitting in the sand, and my heart
no longer wanted to live and see the sunlight.
But when I'd had enough of crying and rolling in the dust,
then the truthful old man of the sea spoke to me:
'Don't cry like that any longer, son of Atreus, so long and without stopping,
since we see no good come of it; but as fast as you can,
try to reach your homeland.
For either you'll find him alive, or Orestes
has killed him first, and you'll come to his funeral.'
So he said, and my heart and my proud spirit
were warmed again in my chest, even though I was grieving,
and I spoke out and addressed him with winged words:
'Those I already know about; but name a third man for me,
whoever is still being held alive on the wide sea,
or dead; and I want to hear it, grieving as I am.'
So I said, and he answered me right away and said:
'The son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.
I saw him on an island, shedding a big tear,
in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him
by force; and he can't reach his homeland;
for he has no oared ships and no companions,
who could send him over the broad back of the sea.
But for you, Zeus-raised Menelaus, it isn't fated
to die in horse-pasturing Argos and meet your fate,
but the immortals will send you to the Elysian plain and the ends of the earth,
where fair-haired Rhadamanthys is,
where life is easiest for people.
There's no snow, no heavy storm, no rain ever,
but always the breezes of the shrilly blowing West Wind
that Ocean sends up to cool people;
because you have Helen, and you're Zeus's son-in-law.'
So saying that, he dove down under the surging sea.
But I went to the ships with my godlike companions,
and my heart churned a lot inside me as I went.
But when we got down to the ship and the sea,
and we had made dinner ready, and immortal night came on,
then we lay down to sleep on the edge of the sea.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
first of all we dragged the ships into the shining salt sea,
and set up masts and sails in the well-balanced ships,
and we ourselves climbed aboard and sat down on the benches;
and sitting in rows we struck the gray salt water with our oars.
And back to the river of Egypt, fed by rain,
I brought my ships to shore, and offered complete sacrifices.
But when I had ended the anger of the gods who live forever,
I piled up a tomb for Agamemnon, so his fame would never die out.
Having finished all that, I sailed home, and the immortals
gave me a fair wind, and sent me quickly to my dear homeland.
But come now, stay on in my halls,
until the eleventh day and the twelfth day come;
and then I'll send you off well, and give you shining gifts,
three horses and a well-smoothed chariot; and after that
I'll give you a beautiful cup, so you can pour offerings to the gods
immortal, remembering me all your days."
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
"Son of Atreus, don't keep me here a long time.
For even for a year I'd put up with staying beside you,
sitting here, and no longing for home or parents would grab me;
for I take great pleasure in hearing your stories and your words.
But my companions are already getting upset for me
in holy Pylos; and you're keeping me here a long time.
Whatever gift you give me, let it be a treasure;
but horses I won't take to Ithaca, but I'll leave them
here for you yourself, as a decoration; for you rule over
a wide plain, with lots of clover in it, and galingale,
and wheat and spelt and the broad-growing white barley.
But in Ithaca there are no wide tracks and no meadow;
it's goat-pasture, and nicer even than horse-pasture.
For none of the islands that lean on the sea
is good for driving horses or rich in meadows; and Ithaca most of all."
So he said, and Menelaus, good at the war cry, smiled,
and stroked him with his hand, and spoke a word and called him by name:
"You're from good blood, dear child, from the way you talk.
So I'll change that for you; for I can.
And of the gifts that lie as treasures in my house,
I'll give you the one that's the most beautiful and the most valuable.
I'll give you a well-made mixing bowl; it's all
silver, and the rims are worked in gold,
made by Hephaestus. The hero Phaedimus,
king of the Sidonians, gave it to me, when his house sheltered
me on my way home there; and I want to give it to you."
So the two of them said things like this to each other,
and the guests went into the halls of the divine king.
They brought sheep, and carried wine that makes men glad;
and their pretty, head-veiled wives sent them bread.
So these people busied themselves with dinner in the halls.
But the suitors, in front of Odysseus' house,
were enjoying themselves with quoits and throwing javelins
on the leveled ground, where they'd done it before, acting arrogant.
And Antinous was sitting there, and godlike Eurymachus,
the leaders of the suitors, and they were far the best in bravery.
And to them Noemon, son of Phronius, came up close
and questioned Antinous and said to him:
'Antinous, do we know in our minds, or don't we,
when Telemachus will sail back from sandy Pylos?
He's gone off, taking my ship with him; and I need it
to cross over to spacious Elis, where I have
twelve mares, and sturdy mules under them,
unbroken; I'd like to drive one away and break it in.'
So he said, and they were amazed in their hearts; for they didn't think
he'd gone to Neleian Pylos, but that he was somewhere
out in the fields with the sheep, or with the swineherd.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:
'Tell me the truth, when did he go, and which young men
went with him? Chosen men of Ithaca, or his own
hired workers and slaves? He could do that too.
And tell me this honestly, so I know well:
did he take the black ship from you by force, against your will,
or did you give it willingly, since he asked you with words?'
Then Noemon, son of Phronius, answered him:
'I gave it to him willingly myself; what else could anyone do,
when a man like that, with worries in his heart,
asks? It would be hard to refuse the gift.
And the young men who went with him are the ones who are best
in the district among us; and I noticed their leader
going aboard — Mentor, or a god, and he looked exactly like him.
But this I'm amazed at: I saw divine Mentor here
yesterday morning, and then he went aboard the ship for Pylos.'
So saying that, he went off to his father's house,
and the proud heart of both of them was upset.
And they made the suitors sit down together and stopped the games.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them,
upset; and his dark heart was filled up
with rage, and his two eyes were like blazing fire:
'Oh no, this trip of Telemachus has been pulled off
in a grand and arrogant way; and we said it wouldn't happen.
Against our will, the young boy has just gone off,
having dragged out a ship and picked the best men in the district.
He'll start being a problem even further ahead; but may Zeus
destroy his strength himself, before he reaches manhood.
But come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions,
so I can lie in wait for him as he comes and keep watch
in the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos,
so his sailing for his father turns out miserable.'
So he said, and they all agreed and told him to do it.
Right away then they got up and went to Odysseus' house.
And Penelope wasn't unaware for long
of the words the suitors were brooding in their hearts;
for the herald Medon told her, who learned their plans
as he stood outside the courtyard; and they were weaving their plan inside.
And he went through the halls to tell Penelope;
and as he crossed the threshold Penelope spoke to him:
'Herald, why did the proud suitors send you?
Is it to tell the maids of divine Odysseus
to stop their work and make a feast for them?
May they never court again or meet together anywhere else,
and may they now eat dinner here for the last and final time —
they who gather here so often and cut down my big livelihood,
the property of wise Telemachus; and you never heard
about your own fathers before, when you were children,
what kind of man Odysseus was among your parents,
never doing or saying anything outrageous
in the district — which is the way divine kings act;
one man he might hate, another he might love.
But that man never did anything reckless to anyone.
But your temper and your shameful deeds
are plain, and there's no gratitude for kindness afterwards.'
Then Medon, who knew wise things, answered her:
'If only, my queen, this were the greatest evil.
But the suitors are planning something far bigger
and more painful, which may the son of Cronus not carry out:
they mean to kill Telemachus with the sharp bronze
as he comes home; and he's gone to find news of his father
to holy Pylos and to shining Lacedaemon.'
So he said, and her knees and her own heart went weak beneath her,
and for a long while she was speechless at his words; and her two eyes
filled with tears, and her full voice was stuck.
And at last she answered him and said:
'Herald, why has my son gone? He has no need
to step aboard swift ships, which are horses of the sea
for men, and carry them over the great wet expanse.
Or is it so that not even his name will be left among people?'
Then Medon, who knew wise things, answered her:
'I don't know whether some god stirred him up, or whether
his own heart pushed him to go to Pylos, so he could learn
about his father, either his homecoming or what death he met.'
So saying that, he went off through Odysseus' house.
And heart-destroying grief poured around her, and she no longer had the strength
to sit on a chair, though many were in the house,
but she sat down on the threshold of the well-made bedroom,
crying pitifully; and around her the maids murmured,
all of them, as many as were young and old in the halls.
And Penelope, weeping shrilly, spoke among them:
'Listen, dear women; for the Olympian has given me grief
beyond all women, as many as were raised with me and born with me.
I, who first lost my noble husband, a lion-hearted man,
outstanding in every kind of virtue among the Greeks,
a noble man, whose fame is wide through Greece and central Argos.
Now again a storm has snatched away my beloved son
from the halls, with no one knowing, and I didn't hear he'd set out.
Cruel women, none of you in your hearts thought
to wake me from my bed, knowing clearly in your hearts
when that man went to the hollow black ship.
For if I'd heard he was planning that trip,
then even if he were eager to go, he would have stayed,
or he would have left me dead in the halls.
But let someone quickly call old Dolius,
my slave, whom my father gave me before I came here,
and who keeps my orchard full of trees, so that as fast as possible
he can sit beside Laertes and tell him all this,
in case that man, weaving some plan in his heart,
goes out and complains to the people, who are determined
to destroy the family of him and of godlike Odysseus.'
Then her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:
'Dear child, you can kill me with the pitiless bronze,
or let me live in the hall; I won't hide the word from you.
I knew all this, and I gave him whatever he asked for,
bread and sweet wine; but he made me take a great oath
not to tell you before the twelfth day came,
or before you yourself missed him and heard he'd set out,
so you wouldn't cry and ruin your lovely skin.
But go wash yourself, put clean clothes on your body,
and go up to the upper room with your waiting women,
and pray to Athena, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis;
for she may then save him even from death.
And don't make the old man worse, when he's already troubled; for I don't think
the blessed gods hate the family of Arcesius completely,
but there's still someone who will hold
the high-roofed house and the rich fields far off.'
So she said, and calmed her crying, and stopped her eyes from tears.
And she, washed, with clean clothes on her body,
went up to the upper room with her waiting women,
and put barley groats in a basket, and prayed to Athena:
'Hear me, child of Zeus who holds the aegis, unwearied one,
if ever Odysseus of many plans in his halls
burned for you the rich thighbones of an ox or a sheep,
remember that now for me, and save my dear son,
and drive away the suitors who wickedly act so proud.'
So saying that, she cried out, and the goddess heard her prayer.
And the suitors made a racket through the shadowy halls;
and one of the proud young men would say:
'The much-courted queen is surely getting
a wedding ready for us, and she doesn't know that death is ready for her son.'
So one of them would say, but they didn't know how it had been arranged.
Then Antinous spoke to them and said:
'Strange men, avoid all your arrogant talk
alike, in case someone reports it even inside.
But come, let's get up in silence and carry out
the plan, which has pleased us all in our hearts.'
So saying that, he picked twenty of the best men,
and they went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.
First of all they dragged the ship down into the depths of the salt sea,
and set up the mast and the sails in the black ship,
and fitted the oars in their leather straps,
all in order, and spread the white sails;
and their high-hearted servants brought them their weapons.
And they moored her out in the water, and went ashore themselves;
and there they ate dinner, and waited for evening to come.
But thoughtful Penelope lay up in her upper room,
without food, without a taste of meat or drink,
turning over in her mind whether her blameless son would escape death,
or whether he'd be beaten down by the arrogant suitors.
And as many thoughts as a lion in a crowd of men
turns over in fear, when they lead him in a treacherous circle,
so many thoughts came over her, and then sweet sleep came on her;
and she slept, leaning back, and all her limbs went limp.
Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, thought of something else:
she made a ghost, and shaped it like a woman,
Iphthime, the daughter of great-hearted Icarius,
whom Eumelus married, living in Pherae.
And she sent her to the house of divine Odysseus,
so that she might make Penelope, mourning and wailing,
stop crying and stop her tearful lament.
She came into the bedroom by the strap of the door bolt,
and stood above her head, and spoke a word to her:
'Are you asleep, Penelope, with a heart full of grief?
The gods who live at ease don't let you
cry or be distressed, since your son is still
going to come home; for he's not guilty in the eyes of the gods.'
Then thoughtful Penelope answered her,
sleeping very sweetly at the gates of dreams:
'Sister, why have you come here? You never came here
before, since you live very far away.
And you tell me to stop my misery and my many
pains, which stir me in my heart and mind —
I, who first lost my noble husband, a lion-hearted man,
outstanding in every kind of virtue among the Greeks,
a noble man, whose fame is wide through Greece and central Argos;
now again my beloved son has gone in a hollow ship,
a foolish boy, who knows nothing well of hard work or of public speaking.
For him I grieve even more than for that other man;
for him I tremble and fear, in case something happens to him,
either among the people where he's gone, or on the sea;
for many enemies are plotting against him,
eager to kill him before he reaches his homeland.'
Then the dim ghost answered her and said:
'Take courage, and don't be too afraid in your heart;
for a guide goes with him, one whom other men
have also prayed to stand beside them, and she can,
Pallas Athena; and she pities you in your grief;
she's the one who now sent me to tell you this.'
Then thoughtful Penelope answered her:
'If you're a god and have heard the voice of a god,
come then, tell me too about that poor man,
whether he's still alive and sees the sunlight,
or whether he's already dead in the house of Hades.'
Then the dim ghost answered her and said:
'I won't tell you about that man at all exactly,
whether he lives or is dead; and it's wrong to speak empty words.'
So saying that, it slipped away past the door bolt of the hall
into the gusts of the winds. And she jumped up from sleep,
the daughter of Icarius; and her own heart was warmed,
because the dream had come to her clearly in the dead of night.
But the suitors climbed aboard and sailed over the watery paths,
planning steep slaughter for Telemachus in their hearts.
There's a certain rocky island in the middle of the sea,
between Ithaca and rugged Samos,
Asteris, not big; and it has two harbors where ships can anchor,
twin-mouthed; there the Greeks waited in ambush for him.

### Book 5

Dawn got up out of her bed, from beside noble Tithonus,
to bring light to the gods and to people.
The gods were sitting down in council, and among them
was Zeus, who thunders high above and has the greatest power.
Athena started telling them how much Odysseus had suffered,
because she remembered him and felt bad that he was stuck in the nymph's house.
"Father Zeus, and all you other gods who live forever,
let no king with a scepter ever be kind and gentle again,
or care about what is right in his heart.
Let him always be cruel instead, and treat people badly,
since nobody remembers godlike Odysseus,
not the people he used to rule, though he was gentle as a father.
He is stuck on an island, suffering terrible pain,
in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him there by force
and will not let him go. He cannot get back to his own homeland,
because he has no ships with oars, no crew
to carry him over the wide back of the sea.
And now they are planning to kill his son
on his way home. He went to ask about his father
in holy Pylos and bright Sparta."
Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, answered her:
"My child, what kind of thing did you just say?
Weren't you the one who planned this —
that Odysseus would come back and pay those men back?
Send Telemachus off yourself. You know how, and you can do it.
Make sure he gets to his own homeland safe and sound,
and let the suitors sail home again
with nothing, the way they came." Then he spoke to his dear son Hermes:
"Hermes, you are our messenger for everything else too,
so go tell the beautiful-haired nymph exactly what I have decided —
Odysseus is going home, so that he may return
with no escort from gods or from people.
He will suffer on a well-built raft,
and on the twentieth day reach fertile Scheria,
the land of the Phaeacians, who are close to the gods.
They will honor him from the heart as if he were a god,
and they will send him home in a ship to his own country,
giving him plenty of bronze, gold, and clothes,
more than Odysseus ever got out of Troy,
even if he had come home safe with his share of the loot.
That is his fate: to see the people he loves and reach
his high-roofed house and his own homeland."
He spoke, and Hermes the guide did not disobey.
Right away he tied on his beautiful sandals,
the immortal golden ones that carry him over the water
and over the endless land as fast as the wind blows.
He picked up the wand that charms people's eyes,
whoever he wants, and wakes others up again when they sleep.
Holding it in his hands, strong Hermes flew.
He passed over Pieria and dropped from the sky down to the sea.
He skimmed the waves like a seagull
that hunts fish over the dangerous bays
of the barren sea and dips its thick feathers in the salt water.
Like that bird, Hermes rode over the many waves.
When he reached the island far out in the sea,
he stepped out of the dark water onto land
and walked until he came to the big cave where the nymph
with the beautiful hair lived. He found her inside.
A big fire was burning on the hearth, and the smell of burning
split cedar and juniper drifted far across the island.
Inside, she was singing with a lovely voice,
walking back and forth at her loom, weaving with a gold shuttle.
A lush forest grew all around the cave:
alder, poplar, and sweet-smelling cypress.
Long-winged birds roosted there too,
owls, hawks, and long-tongued sea crows,
sea birds that spend their lives on the water.
A young vine grew all around the hollow cave,
in full bloom, heavy with grapes.
Four springs flowed side by side with clear water,
close to each other, each running its own way.
Soft meadows of violets and parsley
bloomed all around. Even a god coming there
would stare at it and be glad in his heart.
Hermes stood there and stared.
When he had looked at everything he wanted,
he went right into the wide cave. Calypso,
the shining goddess, saw him and knew him at once,
because gods always recognize each other,
even if one of them lives far away.
He did not find great-hearted Odysseus inside.
Odysseus was sitting on the shore crying, like always,
wearing his heart down with tears and groans and grief,
staring out over the barren sea, crying.
Calypso, the shining goddess, asked Hermes questions
after she sat him down on a bright, gleaming throne:
"Why have you come to me, Hermes with the golden wand?
You are honored and welcome. You do not visit often.
Tell me what you have in mind. I want to do it for you
if I can, and if it can be done.
Come further inside, so I can give you something to eat."
The goddess said this and set a table in front of him
full of ambrosia, and mixed red nectar.
Hermes, the guide, ate and drank.
When he had eaten and filled his heart with food,
he answered her with these words:
"You are asking a god why he came, goddess. I will
tell you the truth, since you asked me to.
Zeus made me come here. I did not want to.
Who would willingly run across so much salty water,
so much you cannot measure it? There is no town of people nearby,
nobody who makes sacrifices and burns offerings to the gods.
But no other god can get around the mind of Zeus
or avoid it.
He says there is a man here, the most miserable of everyone,
one of the men who fought around Priam's city
for nine years, and in the tenth they sacked the city and went
home. But on the way home they insulted Athena,
and she stirred up a bad wind and long waves against them.
Every one of his good companions died there,
and the wind and the waves brought him here.
Zeus says to send him away as fast as you can,
because it is not his fate to die here, away from the people he loves.
He is still fated to see his loved ones and reach
his high-roofed house and his own homeland."
He spoke, and Calypso, the shining goddess, shuddered,
and answered him with these words:
"You gods are cruel, and more jealous than anyone else.
You get angry when goddesses sleep with men
out in the open, when a goddess makes a mortal her husband.
When rosy-fingered Dawn took Orion,
you gods who live easy lives were jealous of her
until pure Artemis with the golden throne, in Ortygia,
came at him with her gentle arrows and killed him.
And when beautiful-haired Demeter gave in
in her heart and slept with Iasion in love and in bed
in a field plowed three times, Zeus found out soon enough
and struck him down with a bright thunderbolt and killed him.
So now you gods are jealous of me for keeping a mortal man.
I saved him. He was riding the keel alone
after Zeus hit his fast ship with a bright thunderbolt
and smashed it in the middle of the wine-dark sea.
Every one of his good companions died there,
and the wind and the waves brought him here.
I loved him and took care of him. I said I would make him
immortal and never old, for all his days.
But since no other god can get around the mind of Zeus
or avoid it,
let him go, if Zeus is pushing him and telling him to,
out over the barren sea. I will not send him myself.
I have no ships with oars, no crew
to carry him over the wide back of the sea.
But I will gladly tell him what to do, and hide nothing,
so he gets to his own homeland safe and sound."
Hermes, the guide, answered her:
"Send him off now, then, and watch out for Zeus's anger,
so he does not get furious later and make life hard for you."
He said this and left, strong Hermes.
The queenly nymph went to great-hearted Odysseus
after she heard Zeus's message.
She found him sitting on the shore. His eyes were never
dry of tears, and his sweet life was draining away
while he cried for home, because the nymph no longer pleased him.
At night he slept with her, and he had no choice,
in the hollow caves, unwilling next to the willing one.
During the day he would sit on the rocks and the beaches,
wearing his heart down with tears and groans and grief,
staring out over the barren sea, crying.
She stood near him and spoke to him:
"You poor man, do not cry here anymore, and do not let your life
waste away. I will send you off right now, gladly.
Come on: cut some long logs and fit them together
into a wide raft. Build a deck on top of it,
up high, so it carries you over the misty sea.
I will put food and water and red wine
on board, plenty to keep hunger away from you,
and I will give you clothes. I will send a good wind behind you,
so you reach your own homeland safe and sound,
if the gods are willing, the ones who hold the wide sky,
who are better than me at planning and finishing things."
He heard this, and much-enduring shining Odysseus shuddered,
and answered her with these words:
"Goddess, you have something else in mind here, not an escort.
You are telling me to cross the huge gulf of the sea on a raft,
a terrible and painful thing. Even solid ships
do not cross it, though they are fast and love a wind from Zeus.
I will not step onto a raft against your will,
unless you, goddess, dare to swear me a great oath
that you will not plot some other bad thing against me."
He spoke, and Calypso, the shining goddess, smiled
and stroked him with her hand, and said:
"You are a rogue, and no fool, to have thought up
a speech like that to make.
Let the earth know this now, and the wide sky above,
and the water of the Styx that flows down, which is the greatest
and most terrible oath for the blessed gods:
I will not plot any other bad thing against you.
I will think and plan the same kind of things
I would plan for myself, if I needed them that badly.
My mind is fair too, and in my own chest
my heart is not made of iron. I have pity."
She said this and led the way
quickly, and he followed in the goddess's footsteps.
The god and the man came to the hollow cave,
and he sat down on the throne Hermes had gotten up from,
and the nymph set out all kinds of food in front of him,
to eat and drink, the kind of food mortal men eat.
She sat down facing godlike Odysseus,
and her maids put ambrosia and nectar beside her.
They reached out their hands to the food set in front of them.
When they had had enough food and drink,
Calypso, the shining goddess, started talking to them:
"Son of Laertes, born of Zeus, clever Odysseus,
so you really want to go home to your own country
right now? Well, good luck to you even so.
If you knew in your heart how many troubles
it is your fate to pile up before you reach your homeland,
you would stay here with me and watch over this house,
and you would be immortal, even though you long to see
your wife, the one you want every single day.
I do not claim to be worse than her at all,
not in body and not in looks, since it is not right
for mortal women to compete with immortal goddesses in body and beauty."
Clever Odysseus answered her:
"Goddess, do not be angry with me about this. I know
all of this very well myself: that wise Penelope
is smaller and less beautiful when you stand side by side.
She is mortal, and you are immortal and never grow old.
But even so I want and long every day
to go home and see the day I get back.
And if some god smashes me on the wine-dark sea,
I will put up with it and keep a patient heart in my chest.
I have already suffered a lot and worked hard
in waves and in war. Let this be added to that."
He spoke, and the sun set and darkness came.
The two of them went to the back of the hollow cave
and enjoyed each other in love, staying side by side.
When early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
right away Odysseus put on his cloak and tunic,
and the nymph herself put on a big silvery robe,
thin and lovely, and she put a belt around her waist,
a beautiful gold one, and over her head a veil.
Then she started planning how to send Odysseus off.
She gave him a big axe that fit his hands,
a bronze one, sharpened on both sides, and on it
was a really beautiful olive-wood handle, fitted on well.
Then she gave him a polished adze, and she led the way
to the far end of the island, where tall trees grew:
alder, poplar, and fir that reached up to the sky,
dry long ago and seasoned through, so they would float easily for him.
When she had shown him where the tall trees grew,
Calypso, the shining goddess, went back to her house,
and he cut the logs. He got the work done quickly.
He brought out twenty of them and cut them with the bronze axe,
smoothed them carefully, and straightened them with a line.
Meanwhile Calypso, the shining goddess, brought him drills.
He drilled all the logs through and fitted them to each other,
and he hammered it tight with pegs and joints.
A man who knows carpentry well shapes the bottom of a wide cargo ship
just so,
and that is how Odysseus built the wide raft.
He set up the deck, fitting it with close-set supports,
and finished it off with long side beams.
He made a mast in it and a yard that fit it,
and he made a steering oar besides, so he could steer.
He fenced the whole thing with woven willow
to be a shield against the waves, and he piled on plenty of wood.
Meanwhile Calypso, the shining goddess, brought him cloth
to make sails, and he made those well too.
He tied braces and ropes and sheets on it,
and dragged it down with levers into the shining sea.
It was the fourth day, and everything was finished.
On the fifth, shining Calypso sent him off the island,
after bathing him and giving him sweet-smelling clothes.
The goddess put a skin of dark wine on board,
one of the two, and a big one of water, and a sack
of grain. She set out plenty of food for him, the kind that fills you up.
She sent a wind, harmless and gentle.
Glad about the wind, shining Odysseus spread his sails.
He steered her skillfully with the steering oar,
sitting down. Sleep never fell on his eyelids
while he watched the Pleiades and the Bear-ward, which sets late,
and the Bear, which people also call the Wagon,
which turns in place and watches for Orion,
and is the only one that has no share in the baths of Ocean.
Calypso, the shining goddess, had told him
to keep it on his left side as he crossed the sea.
He sailed seventeen days, crossing the sea,
and on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains appeared,
the land of the Phaeacians, which lay closest to him,
and it looked like a shield of hide in the misty sea.
The lord Earthshaker was coming back from the Ethiopians
and saw it far off, from the Solymi mountains, because he spotted it
as he sailed on the sea. He got even angrier in his heart,
and he shook his head and said to himself:
"So then, the gods have clearly changed their plans
about Odysseus while I was away with the Ethiopians,
and he is already near the land of the Phaeacians, where it is his fate
to get past the great limit of the misery that has come on him.
But I still think I will drive him deep into trouble."
He said this and gathered the clouds and stirred up the sea,
taking his trident in his hands, and he stirred up every blast
of every kind of wind, and with clouds he covered
the land and the sea together, and night rushed down from the sky.
The East Wind and the South Wind fell on him, and the harsh West Wind
and the North Wind born in clear air, rolling up a huge wave.
Then Odysseus' knees went weak, and his heart too,
and troubled he said to himself:
"Poor me, what is going to happen to me in the end?
I am afraid the goddess told me the exact truth,
the one who said that on the sea, before I get home,
I would get a bellyful of trouble. Now it is all coming true.
Look how Zeus wraps the wide sky in clouds,
and he has stirred up the sea, and the blasts rush on
from every kind of wind. Now my death is certain.
The Greeks who died back then were lucky three and four times over,
the ones who died in wide Troy, pleasing the sons of Atreus.
I wish I had died there and met my fate
on the day when the most Trojans
threw their bronze-tipped spears at me around the fallen son of Peleus.
Then I would have gotten a funeral, and the Greeks would spread my fame.
But now it is my fate to be caught by a miserable death."
While he said this, a huge wave hit him on the crest,
rushing on terribly, and spun the raft around.
He himself fell far from the raft, and the steering oar
he let go out of his hands. The mast broke in the middle
when the terrible squall came, with the winds all mixed together,
and the sail and the yard fell far off into the sea.
It held him under the water a long time, and he could not
come up fast from the rush of that huge wave,
because his clothes weighed him down, the ones shining Calypso gave him.
At last he came up and spat the bitter salt water
out of his mouth, and it poured off his head in streams.
But even so, worn out as he was, he did not forget the raft,
but he rushed back through the waves and grabbed hold of it,
and sat down in the middle of it, dodging death.
The huge wave carried it along the current, this way and that.
Like when the North Wind in late summer carries thistledown
across a field, and the tufts stick to each other,
that is how the winds carried it over the deep, this way and that.
Sometimes the South Wind threw it to the North Wind to carry,
and sometimes the East Wind gave way to the West Wind chasing it.
The daughter of Cadmus saw him, fair-ankled Ino,
Leucothea, who used to be a mortal woman with a human voice,
and now in the depths of the sea has a share of the gods' honor.
She felt sorry for Odysseus as he wandered, holding his sorrows,
and she rose up out of the water like a diving bird in flight,
and sat on the well-built raft and said:
"You poor man, why is Poseidon the Earthshaker
so terribly angry at you, that he keeps making so much trouble for you?
He will not kill you, even though he wants to very badly.
Just do exactly this, because you do not seem stupid to me:
take off these clothes and leave the raft to be carried by the winds,
and strike out with your hands and swim for home,
for the land of the Phaeacians, where it is your fate to escape.
There, spread this veil under your chest,
an immortal one, and you have no need to fear suffering or dying.
But once you lay hold of the mainland with your hands,
loosen it again and throw it into the wine-dark sea,
far from the land, and turn away yourself."
She said this, and the goddess gave him the veil,
and she herself dove back into the surging sea
like a diving bird, and the dark wave covered her.
Much-enduring shining Odysseus thought it over,
and troubled he said to himself:
"This is bad. What if one of the gods is weaving a trap for me again,
one who tells me to get off the raft?
But I will not obey, not yet, since with my own eyes I saw
the land far off, where she said escape was for me.
But I will do exactly this, and it seems best to me:
as long as the logs hold together in their joints,
I will stay right here and put up with it, suffering pain.
But when the wave shakes the raft apart for me,
then I will swim, since there is nothing better at hand to plan."
While he was turning this over in his mind and heart,
Poseidon the Earthshaker stirred up a huge wave against him,
terrible and painful and towering, and drove it at him.
Like when a violent wind shakes a pile of dry chaff
on a threshing floor, and scatters it all this way and that,
that is how it scattered the raft's long logs. But Odysseus
climbed on top of a single log, riding it like a horse,
and stripped off the clothes shining Calypso had given him.
Right away he spread the veil under his chest,
and he himself fell face down into the salt sea, stretching out his hands,
eager to swim. The lord Earthshaker saw him,
and he shook his head and said to himself:
"So now, after suffering many evils, go wandering over the sea,
until you mix with men who are raised by Zeus.
But not even so do I think you will laugh off your trouble."
He said this and whipped his beautiful-maned horses,
and came to Aegae, where his famous house is.
But Athena, the daughter of Zeus, thought of something else.
She tied up the paths of the other winds
and ordered them all to stop and go to sleep.
She stirred up the swift North Wind and broke the waves in front of him,
until Zeus-born Odysseus, escaping death and doom,
could reach the Phaeacians who love the oar.
For two nights and two days on the solid swell
he drifted, and many times his heart saw death coming.
But when beautiful-haired Dawn finished the third day,
then the wind stopped, and there came a windless calm,
and he saw land close by,
looking sharply ahead as he was lifted by the huge wave.
Like when life looks welcome to children,
when their father lies in sickness, suffering terrible pain,
wasting away for a long time, and a hateful spirit is on him,
and then the gods gladly set him free from his misery,
that is how welcome the land and the woods looked to Odysseus,
and he swam eagerly to set his feet on the mainland.
But when he was as far off as a shout carries,
he heard the sea crashing against the rocks,
because the huge wave roared against the dry land,
bellowing terribly, and everything was wrapped in sea foam.
There were no harbors for ships, no anchorages,
but jutting headlands and rocks and cliffs.
Then Odysseus' knees went weak, and his heart too,
and troubled he said to himself:
"Poor me, Zeus has let me see land I had given up on,
and I have cut across this gulf and made it through,
but there is no way out of the gray sea anywhere.
Outside there are sharp cliffs, and around them the wave
roars with the surf, and the smooth rock rises up,
and the water is deep close in, and there is no way with my feet
to stand on both of them and escape this misery.
If I climb out, a huge wave might grab me and throw me
against the jagged rock, and my effort will be wasted.
But if I swim further on, in the hope that I may find
slanted shorelines and harbors of the sea,
I am afraid a squall will snatch me up again
and carry me over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily,
or a god will send some huge sea monster at me
out of the sea, the kind famous Amphitrite breeds in numbers,
because I know well how the famous Earthshaker hates me."
While he was turning this over in his mind and heart,
meanwhile a huge wave carried him toward the rough shore.
There his skin would have been scraped off and his bones crushed,
if the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, had not put it in his mind.
He rushed forward and grabbed the rock with both hands,
and he held on groaning until the huge wave passed by.
So he escaped that one, but the backwash wave
struck him again as it rushed on, and threw him far out into the sea.
Like when an octopus is dragged out of its hole,
and the pebbles stick thick to its suckers,
that is how his skin was torn off his strong hands
against the rocks, and the huge wave covered him.
Then miserable Odysseus would have died beyond his fate,
if bright-eyed Athena had not given him understanding.
He came up out of the wave that gushes toward the mainland
and swam along the shore, looking toward land, hoping to find
slanted shorelines and harbors of the sea.
Then he came swimming to the mouth of a fair-flowing river,
the very spot that seemed best to him,
smooth of rocks, and there was shelter from the wind.
He knew the stream flowing out and prayed in his heart:
"Hear me, lord, whoever you are. I come to you, much prayed to,
fleeing from the sea and the rebuke of Poseidon.
Any man who comes as a wanderer is respected
even by the immortal gods, and that is how I come now
to your stream and your knees, after much hard work.
But have pity, lord. I declare myself your suppliant."
He said this, and the river at once stopped its stream and checked its wave,
and made a calm in front of him, and saved him
at the river's mouth. He bent both knees
and his strong hands, because his dear heart was overcome by the sea.
His whole skin was swollen, and a lot of sea water
gushed from his mouth and nostrils, and he lay there breathless and speechless,
barely alive, and terrible exhaustion came over him.
But when he breathed again and the spirit gathered in his chest,
then he untied the goddess's veil from himself
and let it fall into the river that swells with the sea,
and a huge wave carried it back down the stream, and quickly Ino
caught it in her own hands. He turned aside from the river
and lay down in a bed of reeds and kissed the life-giving earth.
Troubled, he said to himself:
"Poor me, what do I suffer now? What will happen to me in the end?
If I keep a miserable watch all night by the river,
in case the wicked frost and the soft dew together
overcome me and drain my spirit while I am weak,
and a cold breeze blows from the river before dawn,
but if I go up the slope and lie down in the shady woods,
in the thick bushes, and if the cold and the tiredness let me go
and sweet sleep comes over me,
I am afraid I will become the prey and the prize of wild animals."
So as he thought it over, this seemed better to him.
He went into the woods, and found them near the water
in an open place, and he crawled under two bushes
that had grown from the same spot, one wild olive and one cultivated olive.
The strength of the wet-blowing winds could not blow through them,
and the shining sun never hit them with its rays,
and rain never passed through. They were so thick,
grown through each other. Under them Odysseus
crawled. Right away he piled up a bed with his own hands,
a wide one, because there was a huge pile of leaves,
enough to shelter two or three men
in the winter season, even if it were very harsh.
Seeing it, much-enduring shining Odysseus was glad,
and he lay down in the middle of it and piled leaves over himself.
Like when a man hides a firebrand in black ashes
at the edge of a field, where there are no neighbors near,
saving the seed of fire, so that it is not kindled from somewhere else,
that is how Odysseus covered himself with leaves, and Athena
poured sleep over his eyes, so that she might put an end to him
most quickly, covering his dear eyelids from his toil and weariness.

### Book 6

So the much-enduring noble Odysseus slept there,
worn out by sleep and toil; but Athena
went to the city and the district of the Phaeacian men,
who once long ago lived in broad Hypereia,
close to the Cyclopes, arrogant men,
who kept harming them, and were stronger than they were in force.
Godlike Nausithous led them away from there and settled them
in Scheria, far from men who work for their bread,
and he built a wall around the city, and built houses,
and made temples for the gods, and divided up the farmland.
But he had already gone down to Hades, overcome by death,
and Alcinous ruled then, knowing counsel from the gods.
The goddess, grey-eyed Athena, went to his house,
planning a return home for great-hearted Odysseus.
She went into the richly decorated bedroom, in which a young girl
was sleeping, like the immortal goddesses in body and in form,
Nausicaa, the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,
and beside her were two maids, who had their beauty from the Graces,
one on each side of the doorposts; and the shining doors were shut.
She rushed to the girl's bed like a gust of wind,
and stood above her head, and spoke a word to her,
appearing as the daughter of Dymas, famous for his ships,
who was the same age as her, and was dear to her heart.
Resembling her, grey-eyed Athena spoke to her:
Nausicaa, why did your mother bear you to be so careless?
Your clothes lie uncared for, all of them gleaming, and
your marriage is near, when you must dress yourself
in beautiful things, and give some to those who lead you.
For from these things good report rises among people,
and your father and your honored mother rejoice.
But let us go to wash at the appearing Dawn;
and I will come along with you as a helper, so that as quickly as possible
you may be ready, since you will not be a maiden much longer;
for already the best men throughout the district
among all the Phaeacians are courting you, where your own family is.
But come, urge your famous father at daybreak
to get the mules and the wagon ready, which may carry
your belts and robes and gleaming blankets.
And for you yourself it is much better than going
on foot; for the washing places are far from the city.
So saying, grey-eyed Athena left
for Olympus, where they say the gods' seat is always
secure. It is not shaken by any winds, nor ever
wet with rain, nor does snow come near it, but the clear air
spreads out quite cloudless, and a white gleam runs over it;
in it the blessed gods take pleasure every day.
There grey-eyed Athena went, when she had explained things to the girl.
At once Dawn of the beautiful throne came, who woke
fair-robed Nausicaa; and she at once wondered at the dream,
and she went through the house to tell her parents,
her dear father and mother; and she found them inside.
Her mother sat at the hearth with her women servants
spinning sea-purple wool; and she met her father
as he was going out to the famous kings,
to the council, where the proud Phaeacians called him.
She stood very close and spoke to her dear father:
Dear papa, would you not get ready for me a wagon
tall and with good wheels, so that I can take the famous clothes
to the river to wash, which lie dirtied for me?
And it is proper for you too, when you sit among the leading men,
to plan counsels wearing clean clothes on your skin.
And five dear sons have been born to you in the halls,
two of them married, and three flourishing young men;
and they always want, with newly washed clothes,
to go to the dancing place; and all this is a concern to my heart.
So she spoke; for she was ashamed to name her blooming marriage
to her dear father. But he understood everything and answered with a word:
I do not begrudge you the mules, child, nor anything else.
Go on; and the servants will get the wagon ready,
tall and with good wheels, fitted with a frame on top.
So saying, he called to the servants, and they obeyed.
They brought out from the yard the well-wheeled mule wagon
and brought up the mules and yoked them under the wagon;
and the girl brought shining clothing from the bedroom.
And she laid it on the well-polished wagon,
and her mother put satisfying food in a basket,
of every kind, and put in cooked food, and poured in wine
in a goatskin; and the girl climbed onto the wagon.
And she gave liquid olive oil in a golden flask,
so that she and her women maids could anoint themselves.
And she took the whip and the gleaming reins,
and struck them to drive; and there was a clatter of the two mules.
They strained on without stopping, and carried the clothing and her,
not her alone, for the other maids went along with her too.
When they came to the beautiful stream of the river,
where the washing places were always there, and plenty of water
flowed out, very good for washing even dirty things,
there they unhitched the mules from the wagon.
And they drove them along the swirling river
to graze on honey-sweet grass; and they from the wagon
took the clothes in their hands and carried them into the dark water,
and trampled them in the pits quickly, racing each other.
But when they had washed and cleaned off all the dirt,
they spread them out in a row along the shore of the sea, where most
the sea washed the pebbles up onto the land.
And they, after bathing and anointing themselves richly with oil,
then took their meal beside the banks of the river,
and the clothes waited for the sun's rays to dry them.
But when the maids and she herself had enjoyed the food,
they played with a ball, throwing off their headscarves;
and white-armed Nausicaa began the song for them.
As Artemis the arrow-pourer goes through the mountains,
either along very tall Taygetus or Erymanthus,
taking pleasure in boars and swift deer;
and with her the nymphs, the daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus,
the ones of the fields, play, and Leto rejoices in her heart;
and above all of them she holds her head and forehead,
and she is easily recognized, and all of them are beautiful;
so the unwedded maiden stood out among her maids.
But when she was about to go back home again,
after yoking the mules and folding the beautiful clothes,
then again the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, thought of another thing:
that Odysseus might wake up, and see the fair-faced girl,
who might guide him to the city of the Phaeacian men.
Then the princess threw the ball at a maid;
she missed the maid, and threw it into a deep whirlpool;
and they screamed loudly; and noble Odysseus woke up,
and sitting up he pondered in his mind and heart:
Oh no, to the land of what mortals have I come now?
Are they violent and savage and not just,
or are they hospitable, and is their mind god-fearing?
As of girls a woman's cry came around me,
of nymphs, who hold the steep peaks of the mountains
and the springs of rivers and the grassy meadows.
Or am I somewhere near people who speak with a human voice?
But come, I will try for myself and see.
So saying, noble Odysseus crept out from under the bushes,
and from the thick wood he broke off a leafy branch with his thick hand,
full of leaves, to wrap the man's private parts around his body.
He went like a mountain-raised lion trusting in its strength,
which goes on wet and blown by the wind, and in it its two eyes
blaze; but it goes after cattle or sheep
or wild deer; and its belly commands it
to try for the flocks and come into the close-built fold;
so Odysseus was about to mix with the fair-haired girls,
though he was naked; for need had come upon him.
He appeared terrible to them, disfigured by the salt sea,
and they fled scattered to the jutting shores;
but the daughter of Alcinous alone stayed; for Athena
put courage in her heart and took fear from her limbs.
She stood facing him and held her ground; and Odysseus pondered
whether he should grasp her knees and beg the fair-faced girl,
or beg her from a distance with gentle words,
in case she would show him the city and give him clothes.
So to him thinking, it seemed the better thing
to beg with gentle words from a distance,
so that, if he grasped her knees, the girl would not be angry in her heart.
At once he spoke a gentle and clever word:
I beg you, lady: are you some god, or a mortal?
If you are some god, one of those who hold the wide heaven,
then to Artemis, daughter of great Zeus, I
liken you most closely in form and size and build.
But if you are one of the mortals, who live on the earth,
three times blessed are your father and your honored mother,
three times blessed your brothers; surely their heart
is always warmed with gladness because of you,
as they look at such a young shoot entering the dance.
But that man is beyond others the most blessed in his heart,
who, loaded with bride gifts, leads you home.
For never yet have I seen with my eyes such a mortal,
neither a man nor a woman; awe holds me as I look.
On Delos once, beside the altar of Apollo,
I noticed a young shoot of a palm growing up;
for I went there too, and a great crowd followed me,
on the journey on which evils were going to befall me.
And just so, seeing that, I marveled in my heart
for a long time, since no such tree had ever grown up from the earth,
as you, lady, I wonder at and marvel at, and I fear terribly
to touch your knees; but a hard grief comes over me.
Yesterday, on the twentieth day, I escaped the wine-dark sea;
during that time the wave and the swift storms kept carrying me
from the island of Ogygia. Now a god threw me down here,
so that I may perhaps suffer some evil even here too; for I do not think
it will stop, but the gods will still accomplish many things before that.
But, lady, take pity; for after suffering many evils
I have come to you first, and of the others I know no one
of the men who hold this city and this land.
Show me the town, and give me a rag to put around me,
if perhaps you had some wrapping of cloths when you came here.
May the gods give you as much as you desire in your heart:
a husband and a house, and may they grant you good
agreement of mind; for nothing is better or finer
than when a man and wife keep a house
agreeing in their thoughts; great grief to their enemies,
but joy to their friends, and most of all they themselves hear of it.
And white-armed Nausicaa answered him in turn:
Stranger, since you seem neither a bad man nor a foolish one,
Zeus himself, the Olympian, hands out wealth to people,
to the good and the bad, to each as he wishes;
and perhaps he has given this to you, and you must endure it anyway.
But now, since you have come to our city and land,
you will lack neither clothing nor anything else
that is proper for a suffering suppliant who meets one.
I will show you the town, and I will tell you the name of the people.
The Phaeacians hold this city and this land,
and I am the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,
and from him come the strength and power of the Phaeacians.
She spoke, and called to her fair-haired maids:
Stand by me, maids; where are you running, seeing a man?
Surely you do not think he is some hostile man?
There is no such living mortal man, nor will there be,
who will come to the land of the Phaeacian men
bringing war; for they are very dear to the immortals.
We live far away in the much-surging sea,
at the very edge, and no other mortal mixes with us.
But this is some wretched man wandering who has come here,
whom we must now take care of; for all are from Zeus,
both strangers and beggars, and the gift is small but dear.
But give, maids, the stranger food and drink,
and bathe him in the river, where there is shelter from the wind.
So she spoke, and they stood and called to each other,
and they sat Odysseus down in the shelter, as Nausicaa
the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous had commanded;
and beside him they laid a cloak and a tunic, clothes,
and they gave liquid olive oil in a golden flask,
and they told him to bathe in the streams of the river.
Then noble Odysseus spoke to the maids:
Maids, stand back so far away, so that I myself
may wash the salt brine from my shoulders, and all over
rub myself with oil; for the ointment has been off my skin for a long time.
And I will not bathe in front of you; for I am ashamed
to strip naked among fair-haired girls.
So he spoke, and they went away, and told the girl.
But noble Odysseus washed from his body in the river
the brine, which covered his back and broad shoulders,
and from his head he wiped off the scum of the barren sea.
But when he had bathed all over and anointed himself richly with oil,
and put on the clothes which the unwedded maiden gave him,
then Athena, born of Zeus, made him
greater to look at and broader, and down from his head
she sent curly hair, like a hyacinth flower.
As when a man pours gold over silver,
a skilled man, whom Hephaestus taught and Pallas Athena
every kind of craft, and he finishes graceful works,
so she poured grace over his head and shoulders.
Then he went and sat apart on the shore of the sea,
shining with beauty and graces; and the girl looked at him.
Then she spoke to her fair-haired maids:
Listen to me, white-armed maids, so that I may say something.
Not against the will of all the gods, who hold Olympus,
does this man mix with the godlike Phaeacians;
for before he seemed to me unseemly,
but now he is like the gods, who hold the wide heaven.
If only such a man might be called my husband,
living here, and it might please him to stay here.
But give, maids, the stranger food and drink.
So she spoke, and they listened to her well and obeyed,
and set beside Odysseus food and drink.
And much-enduring noble Odysseus drank and ate
greedily; for he had been without food for a long time.
But white-armed Nausicaa thought of other things:
she folded the clothes and laid them on the beautiful wagon,
and yoked the strong-hoofed mules, and climbed up herself,
and urged Odysseus on, and spoke a word and addressed him:
Get up now, stranger, and go to the city, so that I may send you
to the house of my father, the wise-hearted, where I say you
will know all the Phaeacians, as many as are the best.
But do exactly as I say, and you seem to me not to be senseless.
As long as we go through the fields and the works of men,
for that time, with the maids, behind the mules and the wagon,
walk quickly; and I will lead the way.
But when we come to the city, around which there is a wall
high, and a beautiful harbor on either side of the city,
and a narrow entrance; and the curved ships
are drawn up along the road; for each has its own mooring place.
And there their assembly is around a beautiful place of Poseidon,
fitted with drawn stones buried in the ground.
And there they busy themselves with the gear of the black ships,
cables and ropes, and they sharpen oars.
For the Phaeacians do not care about bow or quiver,
but about masts and oars of ships and the trim ships,
in which, exulting, they cross the grey sea.
I avoid their harsh talk, lest someone afterward
find fault with me; for they are very arrogant in the district.
And some worse man might meet me and say this:
Who is this that follows Nausicaa, handsome and tall,
a stranger? Where did she find him? He will be her husband.
Either she took in some wanderer from his ship,
from men from far away, since none are near;
or some god came, greatly prayed for, to her as she prayed,
coming down from heaven, and he will have her all her days.
Better that she herself had gone and found a husband
from elsewhere; for surely she dishonors these
Phaeacians, who court her, many and noble.
So they will say, and these would be reproaches to me.
And I myself blame another woman, whoever does such things,
who, against the will of her dear father and mother while they live,
mixes with men, before a public marriage comes.
Stranger, you then understand my word quickly, so that as quickly as possible
you may get escort and return home from my father.
You will find a glorious grove of Athena near the road,
of poplars; and a spring flows in it, and around it a meadow;
and there is my father's precinct and a flourishing orchard,
as far from the town as a man can shout.
Sit there and wait for a time, until we
come to the town and reach my father's house.
But when you think we have arrived at the house,
then go to the city of the Phaeacians and ask
for the house of my father, great-hearted Alcinous.
It is easy to recognize, and even a foolish child could lead you
to it; for not at all like the other
Phaeacian houses is the house of Alcinous
the hero built. But when the house and the courtyard cover you,
go very quickly through the hall, until you come
to my mother; and she sits at the hearth in the light of the fire,
spinning sea-purple wool, a wonder to look at,
leaning against a pillar; and her maids sit behind her.
And there my father's throne is set close to hers,
on which he sits and drinks wine, like an immortal.
Passing by him, throw your hands around my mother's knees,
so that you may see your day of return,
rejoicing and quickly, even if you are very far away.
If she has kind thoughts for you in her heart,
then there is hope for you to see your friends and come
to your well-built house and your own native land.
So saying, she lashed the mules with the shining whip;
and they quickly left the streams of the river.
They trotted well, and turned their feet well;
and she drove very well, so that on foot might follow
the maids and Odysseus, and with her mind she applied the whip.
And the sun set, and they came to the glorious grove
sacred to Athena, where noble Odysseus sat down.
At once then he prayed to the daughter of great Zeus:
Hear me, child of aegis-bearing Zeus, Unwearied One;
now indeed hear me, since never before did you hear me
when I was being crushed, when the glorious Earth-shaker crushed me.
Grant that I come to the Phaeacians as one dear and pitied.
So he spoke praying, and Pallas Athena heard him.
But she did not yet appear to him face to face; for she was ashamed
before her father's brother; and he raged fiercely
against godlike Odysseus before he reached his own land.

### Book 7

So Odysseus, who had suffered so much, prayed there,
and the mules pulled the girl toward the city.
When she reached her father's famous house,
she stopped in the doorway, and her brothers crowded around her
looking like gods; they unhitched the mules from the wagon
and carried the clothes inside.
She went to her room, and an old woman lit a fire for her,
an old slave from Apeira, her maid Eurymedusa,
whom ships had once brought from Apeira.
They had picked her out as a gift for Alcinous, because he ruled
all the Phaeacians, and the people obeyed him like a god.
She was the one who raised white-armed Nausicaa in the house.
She lit the fire and got supper ready inside.
Then Odysseus got up to go into the city, and Athena
poured a thick mist around him, wishing him well,
so that no proud Phaeacian who met him
would mock him with questions about who he was.
But when he was about to enter the lovely city,
the goddess met him there, bright-eyed Athena,
looking like a young girl carrying a water jug.
She stood in front of him, and great Odysseus asked her:
"My child, could you show me the house of the man
Alcinous, who is king over these people?
I've come here as a stranger who's been through a lot,
from a far country, and I know nobody
of the people who live in this town and land."
The goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:
"Then I'll show you the house you're asking me for,
stranger — it stands close to my own good father's.
But come along quietly, and I'll lead the way,
and don't stare at anyone or ask questions.
These people don't really put up with strangers,
and they don't welcome and befriend anyone who comes from elsewhere.
They trust their fast ships
to cross the huge open sea, because the sea god gave them that gift.
Their ships are as quick as a bird's wing, as quick as a thought."
With that, Pallas Athena led the way
quickly, and he followed in the goddess's footsteps.
The famous sailors of Phaeacia never noticed him
walking through the town among them, because Athena
with her lovely braids, that powerful goddess, wouldn't let them — she poured
a magic mist over him, because she wished him well.
Odysseus was amazed at the harbors and the balanced ships,
at the meeting places of the heroes themselves, and the long
high walls studded with sharp stakes — a wonder to look at.
When they reached the king's famous house,
the goddess spoke to him first, bright-eyed Athena:
"Stranger, this is the house you asked me
to show you. You'll find the kings raised by Zeus
at their feast. Go inside, and in your heart
don't be afraid — a bold man always does better
in everything, even if he comes from some other land.
First you'll meet the lady of the house.
Her name is Arete, and it fits her, because she comes from the same parents
as Alcinous the king.
The sea god Poseidon first fathered
Nausithous with Periboea, the most beautiful of women,
the youngest daughter of great-hearted Eurymedon,
who was once king over the arrogant Giants.
But he destroyed his reckless people, and died himself.
Poseidon slept with her and had a son,
great-hearted Nausithous, who ruled the Phaeacians.
Nausithous had two sons, Rhexenor and Alcinous.
Apollo with the silver bow struck Rhexenor down
as a bridegroom in his own hall, and he left only one child,
Arete. Alcinous married her,
and honored her more than any other woman on earth,
more than any woman who now keeps a house under her husband.
That's how much she is honored, from the heart,
by her own children, by Alcinous himself,
and by the people, who look at her like a god
and greet her when she walks through the town.
She's no fool either — she has good sense.
When she wants to, she can settle quarrels between men.
If she feels friendly toward you in her heart,
then there's hope you'll see your family and get home
to your high-roofed house and your own homeland."
With that, bright-eyed Athena left
over the barren sea, leaving lovely Scheria behind.
She came to Marathon and wide-streeted Athens,
and went into the solid house of Erechtheus. Meanwhile Odysseus
walked toward Alcinous' famous house, and his heart
turned over many things as he stood there, before he reached the bronze threshold.
The house of great-hearted Alcinous gleamed
through its high roof like the light of the sun or the moon.
Bronze walls ran along it on every side,
from the doorway to the back room, with a band of blue enamel around the top.
Golden doors shut off the solid house inside.
Silver doorposts stood on the bronze threshold,
with a silver lintel above them and a gold handle.
On each side were dogs of gold and silver,
made by Hephaestus with his clever skill
to guard the house of great-hearted Alcinous.
They never die and never age, forever.
Inside, seats were set along the wall on both sides,
all the way from the doorway to the back room, and on them
fine, tightly woven cloths were spread out, made by women.
There the leaders of the Phaeacians sat
drinking and eating, since they always had plenty.
Golden statues of young men stood on well-built pedestals,
holding blazing torches in their hands
to light up the hall at night for the diners.
Fifty slave women worked in the house:
some ground the golden grain at the mills,
others wove at the looms and spun the thread,
sitting still, like leaves on a tall poplar.
Oil trickles wet from the close-woven linen cloth.
The Phaeacians are the best men in the world
at driving a fast ship over the sea, and the women
are just as skilled at weaving; Athena gave them that,
beyond everyone — skill in beautiful work and good minds.
Outside the courtyard, near the doors, is a big orchard
of four acres, with a hedge running around it on both sides.
Tall trees grow there, thick with life:
pear trees, pomegranates, apple trees heavy with shining fruit,
sweet fig trees, and blooming olive trees.
Their fruit never rots or runs out,
not in winter or summer — it lasts all year. And the west wind
blowing always makes some buds grow and ripens others.
Pear grows old on pear, apple on apple,
grape cluster on grape cluster, fig on fig.
A rich vineyard is rooted there too.
One part of it is a flat drying-floor,
drying in the sun; others are being picked,
others being trampled; and in front are young sour grapes
just dropping their blossom, while still others are turning dark.
Neat garden beds grow along the far end,
all kinds of plants, green and shining all year.
Two springs run there: one waters the whole garden,
the other flows out on the other side, under the courtyard wall,
toward the tall house, where the townspeople drew their water.
Those were the shining gifts of the gods in Alcinous' house.
Odysseus, who had suffered so much, stood and stared.
When he had looked at everything he wanted in his heart,
he quickly stepped over the threshold into the house.
He found the leaders and rulers of the Phaeacians
pouring out wine from cups to sharp-eyed Hermes,
to whom they always poured last, when they thought of going to bed.
Odysseus, who had suffered so much, walked through the hall
wearing the thick mist Athena had poured around him,
until he reached Arete and King Alcinous.
He threw his arms around Arete's knees,
and then the magic mist poured off him again.
The people went silent, seeing a man in the hall.
They stared in amazement, and Odysseus prayed:
"Arete, daughter of godlike Rhexenor,
I come to your husband, to your knees, after much hardship,
and to these diners. May the gods give them prosperity
as long as they live, and may each one leave to his children
his property in the house and the honor the people gave him.
But for me — hurry my escort home,
quickly, since I've suffered for so long, far from my loved ones."
Having said this, he sat down on the hearth in the ashes
by the fire, and everyone fell totally silent.
At last an old hero, Echeneus, spoke up.
He was the oldest man among the Phaeacians
and the best speaker, and he knew many old stories.
He meant well and said to them:
"Alcinous, this isn't right or proper,
for the stranger to sit on the ground in the ashes
while these men wait and hold back, waiting for you to speak.
Come on — lift the stranger up and seat him on a silver-studded chair,
and tell the heralds
to mix wine, so we can pour a drink to Zeus who loves thunder,
who watches over respectful beggars.
And let the housekeeper give the stranger dinner from what we have."
When noble Alcinous heard this,
he took crafty Odysseus by the hand,
lifted him from the hearth and sat him in a bright chair,
waking up his son, the blameless Laodamas,
who sat closest to him and was his favorite.
A maid brought a pitcher and poured water for washing
into a silver basin, from a beautiful gold jug,
so he could wash, and she pulled a polished table up beside him.
The honored housekeeper brought bread and set it out,
piling on lots of food, giving him what they had.
Odysseus, who had suffered so much, ate and drank.
Then noble Alcinous spoke to a herald:
"Pontonous, mix a bowl and pour the wine
for everyone in the hall, so we can pour a drink to Zeus who loves thunder,
who watches over respectful beggars."
He spoke, and Pontonous mixed the sweet honey wine
and served it out to everyone in cups, after the first offering.
When they had poured their drinks and had as much as they wanted,
Alcinous spoke to them and said:
"Listen, leaders and rulers of the Phaeacians,
and I'll say what my heart tells me.
Now that we've eaten, go home and go to bed.
At dawn, call more of the elders together,
and we'll host the stranger in the halls and offer
fine sacrifices to the gods, and then we'll think
about getting him home, so that the stranger, with no trouble or grief,
with our escort, can reach his own homeland,
happy and quickly, even if it's very far away,
and so he suffers no harm or trouble on the way
before he sets foot on his own land. After that
he'll suffer whatever fate and the heavy Fates
spun for him with their thread the day his mother bore him.
But if one of the gods has come down from heaven,
then the gods have something else planned.
Because up to now the gods have always shown themselves clearly
to us, whenever we make fine sacrifices,
and they sit and feast with us, right where we sit.
And if some traveler meets one walking alone,
they don't hide themselves, because we're close to the gods —
not like the Cyclopes and the wild tribes of Giants.
Crafty Odysseus answered him:
"Alcinous, don't worry your mind about that — I'm not
like the immortal gods who hold the wide sky,
not in body or in build. I'm just a mortal man.
Whoever you know among men who suffers the most misery —
I could be compared to them in pain.
I could tell you even worse things,
all that I've suffered by the will of the gods.
But let me eat, sad as I am.
Nothing is more shameless than a hungry belly.
It forces a man to think about it, whether he wants to or not,
even when he's worn out and grieving in his heart.
That's how I am: I have grief in my heart, but my belly
keeps telling me to eat and drink, and it makes me forget
everything I've been through, and tells me to fill up.
You should get ready when dawn appears,
so you can put me, poor wretch, back on my homeland,
even though I've suffered so much. I'd gladly die once I've seen
my property, my servants, and my big high-roofed house."
He spoke, and all of them agreed and told him
they'd send the stranger home, since he'd spoken fairly.
When they had poured their drinks and had as much as they wanted,
each one went off to his own house to sleep.
But Odysseus stayed behind in the hall,
with Arete beside him and godlike Alcinous.
The maids cleared away the remains of the feast.
White-armed Arete was the first to speak to them.
She had recognized the cloak and tunic,
the beautiful clothes she had made herself with her women.
She spoke to him, and her words flew:
"Stranger, I'll ask you this first myself:
who are you, and where are you from? Who gave you those clothes?
Aren't you the one who got here wandering over the sea?"
Crafty Odysseus answered her:
"It's hard, my queen, to tell the whole story
of my troubles, because the gods of heaven gave me many.
But this I'll tell you, since you're asking.
There's an island called Ogygia, far out in the sea.
Atlas's daughter lives there, tricky Calypso,
a beautiful woman with a powerful goddess's power, and nobody
sleeps with her — no god and no mortal man.
But some god led me, poor wretch, to her hearth,
all alone, after Zeus struck my fast ship with a bright lightning bolt
and smashed it in the middle of the wine-dark sea.
All my good crewmen died there,
and I grabbed the keel of the curved ship in my arms
and was carried for nine days. On the tenth black night
the gods brought me to the island of Ogygia, where Calypso
of the lovely braids, a powerful goddess, lives. She took me in,
cared for me kindly, and fed me, and said she'd make me
immortal and never aging, forever.
But she never convinced my heart.
I stayed there seven whole years, and I always
soaked the immortal clothes Calypso gave me with tears.
But when the eighth year came around,
she told me to leave — she urged me on,
because Zeus had sent word, or maybe she changed her mind.
She sent me off on a well-made raft and gave me lots of things:
food and sweet wine, and dressed me in immortal clothes,
and sent a wind, gentle and harmless.
I sailed seventeen days across the sea,
and on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains appeared —
your land — and my heart was glad,
poor wretch that I was, because I still had misery ahead,
a lot of it, which Poseidon the sea god stirred up against me.
He hurled winds at me and blocked my path,
and whipped up a huge sea, and the waves
wouldn't let my raft float. I groaned in agony.
Then a storm smashed the raft apart, and I
swam and cut through the ocean, until wind and water
pushed me up close to your land.
There the surf would have finished me as I came ashore,
slamming me against big rocks in a joyless place.
But I pulled back and swam again, until I reached
a river — that looked like the best spot to me,
smooth, with no rocks, and shelter from the wind.
I fell down, got my breath back, and immortal night came on.
I got out of the river and away from the water,
and lay down in the bushes, and heaped leaves
over me, and a god poured endless sleep on me.
I slept there in the leaves, sick at heart,
all night, through dawn, and into the middle of the day.
The sun went down, and sweet sleep let me go.
I noticed your daughter's maids on the beach,
playing, and she was there among them, looking like a goddess.
I begged her for help, and she showed good sense —
the kind of sense you wouldn't expect from a young person
meeting a stranger, since the young are usually careless.
She gave me plenty of food and sparkling wine,
and bathed me in the river and gave me these clothes.
I've told you the truth, sad as it makes me."
Then Alcinous answered him:
"Stranger, my daughter didn't do the right thing
when she didn't bring you home with her maids —
since you asked her first for help."
Crafty Odysseus answered him:
"Hero, don't blame the innocent girl for that.
She did tell me to follow along with her maids,
but I didn't want to — I was afraid and ashamed,
in case you got angry when you saw me.
We humans on earth get jealous easily."
Then Alcinous answered him:
"Stranger, my heart isn't the kind
to get angry over nothing. I'd rather do what's proper.
I wish — father Zeus, Athena, Apollo —
that you were just as you are, and thought like me.
I'd have you marry my daughter and be called my son-in-law,
staying right here. I'd give you a house and property,
if you wanted to stay. But nobody will hold you back against your will —
none of the Phaeacians. I hope father Zeus never allows that.
And I'll arrange your escort, so you know for sure,
for tomorrow. Then you'll lie asleep, overcome,
and they'll row over the calm sea until you reach
your homeland and house, or wherever you want to be,
even if it's much farther than Euboea,
which they say is the farthest place away — our people
saw it, when they brought golden-haired Rhadamanthys
to visit Tityus, the son of Earth.
They went there and made the trip with no effort
in a single day, and got home again.
You'll find out for yourself how good
my ships are, and my young men at rowing the salt sea."
He spoke, and Odysseus, who had suffered so much, was glad,
and he prayed out loud:
"Father Zeus, may he bring to fulfillment everything he said —
Alcinous! Then his fame across the grain-giving earth
would never die, and I would reach my homeland."
So the two of them talked like this to each other.
White-armed Arete told the maids
to set up a bed under the covered porch, and throw on beautiful
purple blankets, spread rugs on top,
and put woolen cloaks over them for him to sleep under.
The maids went out of the hall carrying torches.
When they had hurried and made the solid bed,
they stood next to Odysseus and told him:
"Get up, stranger, come to bed — your bed is ready."
They spoke, and lying down seemed welcome to him.
So Odysseus, who had suffered so much, slept there
in the carved bed under the echoing porch.
Alcinous slept in a back room of the tall house,
and his wife the queen lay beside him in the marriage bed.

### Book 8

When early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
Alcinous rose from his bed,
and god-born Odysseus, the sacker of cities, rose too.
Alcinous led them
to the Phaeacian assembly place, which had been built beside their ships.
When they arrived they sat down on the polished stones
close together. Meanwhile Pallas Athena went through the town,
looking like the herald of warlike Alcinous,
planning a homecoming for great-hearted Odysseus,
and she stood beside each man and said:
"Come on, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,
go to the assembly, so you can learn about the stranger,
who just now came to the house of warlike Alcinous,
wandering over the sea, his body like the deathless gods."
With these words she stirred the spirit of every man.
Quickly the meeting places and seats filled with people
gathering, and many were amazed when they saw
the warlike son of Laertes. Athena poured
marvelous grace over his head and shoulders
and made him look taller and broader,
so that he would be dear to all the Phaeacians
and fearsome and respected, and would complete the many
contests that the Phaeacians tested Odysseus with.
When they had gathered and come together,
Alcinous spoke to them and said:
"Listen, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,
so I can say what my heart in my chest tells me.
This stranger, I don't know who he is, came wandering to my house,
either from men of the east or of the west,
and he asks for an escort, and begs that it be dependable.
Let us, as before, hurry the escort along.
No one else either, whoever comes to my house,
stays here grieving long for the sake of an escort.
But come, let us drag a black ship into the shining sea,
one that has never sailed, and let fifty-two young men
be picked from the district, the ones who are the best so far.
When all have tied the oars well to the rowlocks,
let them go aboard, and then prepare a swift feast,
coming to my house, and I will provide well for all.
Those are my orders for the young men, but the rest of you,
the sceptered kings, come to my beautiful house,
so that we can welcome the stranger in the halls,
and let no one refuse. Call the divine singer
Demodocus, for the god gave him song above all others
to give delight, wherever his heart urges him to sing."
With these words he led the way, and they followed,
the sceptered ones, and the herald went after the divine singer.
The young men who were picked, fifty-two of them,
went, as he ordered, to the shore of the unharvested sea.
When they had come down to the ship and the sea,
they dragged the black ship into the depth of the sea,
and set the mast and the sails in the black ship,
and fitted the oars into the leather rowlocks,
all in proper order, and spread the white sails.
They moored her high in the surf, and then afterward
they went to the great house of warlike Alcinous.
The porticos and courtyards and men's rooms were filled
with people gathering, and there were many, young and old.
Alcinous sacrificed twelve sheep for them,
and eight white-tusked boars, and two shambling oxen.
They skinned them and took care of them, and made a lovely feast.
The herald came near leading the trusty singer,
whom the Muse loved above others and gave both good and evil:
she took away his eyes and gave him sweet song.
Pontonous set a silver-studded chair for him
in the middle of the feasters, leaning it against a tall pillar,
and he hung the clear lyre from a peg
above his head, and showed him how to take it with his hands,
the herald did; and he set beside him a basket and a beautiful table,
and beside him a cup of wine, to drink whenever his heart told him to.
They reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.
When they had put away their desire for drink and food,
the Muse stirred the singer to sing of the famous deeds of men,
of a song whose fame at that time reached the wide heaven:
the quarrel of Odysseus and Achilles, son of Peleus,
how once they quarreled at a lavish feast of the gods
with terrible words, and the lord of men Agamemnon
rejoiced in his heart that the best of the Achaeans were quarreling.
For so Phoebus Apollo had prophesied to him
in holy Pytho, when he crossed the stone threshold
to ask the oracle, for then the beginning of trouble was rolling on
for Trojans and Danaans through the will of great Zeus.
These things the famous singer sang, but Odysseus
took his great purple cloak in his sturdy hands
and pulled it down from his head and covered his beautiful face,
for he was ashamed to let the Phaeacians see tears under his brows.
Each time the divine singer stopped singing,
he wiped the tear from his head and took the cloak away
and picked up the two-handled cup and poured libations to the gods,
but each time he began again and the best of the Phaeacians
urged him to sing, since they were enjoying his words,
Odysseus covered his head again and groaned.
There he went unnoticed by all the others as he shed tears,
but Alcinous alone noticed him and understood,
sitting near him, and he heard him groaning heavily.
At once he spoke to the Phaeacians, who love the oar:
"Listen, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians.
We have already satisfied our hearts with the equal feast
and with the lyre, which goes with a lavish feast.
But now let us go out and try all
the contests, so that the stranger can tell his own friends
when he has gotten home how much we surpass others
in boxing and wrestling and jumping and running."
With these words he led the way, and they followed.
He hung the clear lyre from a peg,
and the herald took Demodocus by the hand and led him from the hall,
and he led him along the very same way as the others,
the best of the Phaeacians, who were going to watch the contests.
They went to the assembly place, and a great crowd followed with them,
countless, and many young men stood up, both many and fine.
Up rose Acroneos and Ocyalus and Elatreus,
Nauteus and Prymneus and Anchialus and Eretmeus,
Ponteus and Proreus, Thoon and Anabesineos,
and Amphialus, son of Polyneus, son of Tecton,
and up rose Euryalus too, like man-destroying Ares,
son of Naubolus, who was the best in looks and build
of all the Phaeacians after the blameless Laodamas.
Up stood the three sons of blameless Alcinous,
Laodamas and Halius and godlike Clytoneus.
They first tested themselves at running.
A course was stretched out for them from the starting line, and all together
they flew swiftly, raising dust on the plain,
and by far the best of them at running was blameless Clytoneus.
As far as the distance of a mule's furrow in a fallow field,
so far he came out ahead of the crowd, and they were left behind.
They tested themselves at painful wrestling,
and here again Euryalus beat all the best.
In the jump Amphialus was the most outstanding of all,
and in the discus again Elatreus was by far the best of all,
and in boxing again Laodamas, the good son of Alcinous.
When all had delighted their hearts with the contests,
the son of Alcinous, Laodamas, said to them:
"Come, friends, let us ask the stranger whether he knows
and has learned any contest. In build at least he is not bad,
in his thighs and calves and both arms above
and in his sturdy neck and great strength, and he is not
lacking in youth either, but he has been broken down by many troubles.
For I say nothing is worse than the sea
for overwhelming a man, even if he is very strong."
Euryalus answered him and said:
"Laodamas, that was a very fitting thing to say.
Go yourself now and challenge him and make your speech known."
When the good son of Alcinous heard this,
he went and stood in the middle and spoke to Odysseus:
"Come here too, stranger and father, try the contests,
if you have learned any, for it seems you know contests.
For there is no greater glory for a man as long as he lives
than what he does with his feet and his hands.
But come, try it, and scatter the cares from your heart.
Your voyage will no longer be far off, but already
your ship is drawn down and your companions are ready."
In answer to him much-devising Odysseus said:
"Laodamas, why do you tell me to do these things, mocking me?
I have cares on my mind rather than contests,
I who before have suffered very many things and toiled greatly,
and now in your assembly, longing for my homecoming,
I sit, begging both the king and all the people."
Euryalus answered him again and rebuked him to his face:
"No, stranger, I don't think you are a man who knows
contests, the many kinds there are among men,
but rather one who, always aboard a many-oared ship,
a leader of sailors, who are traders,
is mindful of cargo and a watcher of voyages
and of grasping profits. You do not look like an athlete."
Looking at him from under his brows, much-devising Odysseus said:
"Stranger, you have not spoken well. You are like a reckless man.
The gods do not give graceful gifts to all
men, neither build nor mind nor speaking skill.
For one man is weaker in form,
but the god crowns his words with beauty, and others
look at him with delight, and he speaks firmly
with gentle modesty, and he stands out among those gathered,
and as he walks through the city they look at him as at a god.
Another again is like the deathless gods in form,
but no grace surrounds his words,
as your form is conspicuous and not otherwise
could even a god make it, but your mind is worthless.
You have stirred my heart in my dear chest
by speaking out of turn. But I am not ignorant of contests,
as you say, but I think I am among the first
while I trusted in my youth and my hands.
But now I am held by misery and pains, for I have endured many things,
passing through wars of men and painful waves.
But even so, having suffered many evils, I will try the contests,
for your word bites the heart, and you stirred me by speaking."
He spoke, and sprang up and took up a discus along with his cloak,
one greater and thicker, much heavier
than the one the Phaeacians used to throw among themselves.
He whirled it around and sent it from his sturdy hand,
and the stone boomed, and down to the ground crouched
the long-oared Phaeacians, men famous for ships,
at the stone's cast, and it flew beyond the marks of all,
going swiftly from his hand. Athena set the boundaries,
looking in body like a man, and she spoke and called him by name:
"Even a blind man, stranger, would tell that mark apart
by feeling it, since it is not mixed in with the crowd
but far out in front. Be confident about this contest,
no one of the Phaeacians will reach this, or surpass it."
So she spoke, and much-enduring brilliant Odysseus rejoiced,
glad that he saw a friendly comrade in the contest.
Then he spoke more lightly to the Phaeacians:
"Now reach this mark, young men. Right after, I think
I will send another just as far or even farther.
Of the rest of you, whoever his heart and spirit tells him to,
come here and try, since you angered me greatly,
either in boxing or wrestling or running, I don't begrudge it,
of all the Phaeacians, except Laodamas himself.
For this man is my host. Who would fight with a man who loves him?
That man is truly foolish and worthless,
whoever brings up a quarrel over contests with his host
in a foreign land. He ruins all his own chances.
But of the others I refuse none and make light of none,
but I want to know and to try against them.
For I am not bad at all things, among men, in whatever contests there are.
I know well how to handle a well-polished bow.
I would be first to hit a man with an arrow in a crowd
of hostile men, even if very many companions
stood close by and shot arrows at men.
Philoctetes alone surpassed me with the bow
in the land of the Trojans, when we Achaeans shot with bows.
Of the others I say I am far better,
as many mortals as now are on the earth eating grain.
But with earlier men I will not want to compete,
neither with Heracles nor with Eurytus of Oechalia,
who used to compete with the deathless gods about bows.
So great Eurytus quickly died, and he never reached old age
in his halls, for Apollo in anger
killed him, because he challenged him to shoot with the bow.
With the spear I throw as far as no one else with an arrow.
In running I fear that one of the Phaeacians
may run past me, for I have been terribly worn down
in many waves, since there was no steady
supply on the ship. So my dear limbs are loosened."
So he spoke, and they all fell silent.
Alcinous alone answered him and said:
"Stranger, since you do not speak without grace among us,
but want to show your excellence, which stays with you,
angry because this man stood beside you in the contest
and rebuked you, as no mortal would belittle your excellence,
not one who knew in his mind how to speak properly.
But come now, listen to my word, so that you can also tell
another of the heroes, when in your halls
you feast beside your wife and your children,
remembering our excellence, and what things too
Zeus lays on our works continually from our fathers' time.
For we are not blameless boxers or wrestlers,
but we run swiftly with our feet and are best with ships,
and always dear to us are the feast and the cithara and dances
and changes of clothing and warm baths and beds.
But come, all you Phaeacians who are the best dancers,
play, so that the stranger can tell his own friends
when he has gotten home how much we surpass others
in seamanship and running and dancing and song.
Let someone go quickly and bring Demodocus the clear lyre,
which lies somewhere in our house."
So spoke godlike Alcinous, and the herald rose
to bring the hollow lyre from the king's house.
Nine chosen stewards all stood up,
public officials, who arranged everything well at the contests,
and they smoothed the dancing floor and widened the good assembly place.
The herald came near bringing the clear lyre
to Demodocus, and he then went to the middle, and around him young men
in first youth stood, skilled in dancing,
and they struck the divine dancing floor with their feet. Odysseus
gazed at the flashing of their feet and marveled in his heart.
The singer, playing the lyre, began to sing beautifully
of the love of Ares and of fair-crowned Aphrodite,
how at first they mingled in Hephaestus' house
in secret, and he gave many gifts, and shamed the bed and the couch
of lord Hephaestus. Right away a messenger came to him,
Helios, who noticed them mingling in love.
Hephaestus, when he heard the heart-grieving word,
went to his bronze forge, brooding evils in his heart,
and set a great anvil on the anvil block, and hammered out bonds
unbreakable, unloosable, so that they would stay fixed right there.
When he had made the snare, angry at Ares,
he went to the chamber, where his dear bed stood,
and around the bedposts he poured bonds in a circle everywhere.
Many too were spread from above, from the roof beam,
like thin spider webs, which no one could even see,
not even the blessed gods, for it was made cunningly all around.
When he had poured all the snare around the bed,
he pretended to go to Lemnos, the well-built citadel,
which of all lands is far dearest to him.
Golden-reined Ares did not keep a blind watch either,
when he saw famous-craftsman Hephaestus gone away.
He went toward the house of renowned Hephaestus,
eager for the love of fair-crowned Cytherea.
She had just come from her father, the mighty son of Cronus,
and sat down, and he went inside the house,
and clasped her hand, and spoke and called her by name:
"Come, dear one, let us turn to the bed and lie together,
for Hephaestus is no longer among his people, but somewhere already
he has gone to Lemnos to the wild-voiced Sintians."
So he spoke, and to her it seemed welcome to lie down.
The two went to the bed and lay down, and around them bonds
artful, made by the cunning Hephaestus, were poured,
and they could not move any limb or lift it.
Then indeed they knew that there was no more escape.
Near them came the renowned lame god,
turning back again before he reached the land of Lemnos,
for Helios kept watch for him and told him the word.
He went to his dear house, grieved at heart.
He stood in the doorway, and wild anger seized him.
He shouted terribly and called out to all the gods:
"Father Zeus and other blessed gods who are forever,
come here, so you can see works laughable and not to be endured,
how Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, because I am lame,
always dishonors me and loves destructive Ares,
because he is handsome and sound of foot, but I
was born feeble. No one else is to blame for me,
but my two parents, whom I wish had not begotten me.
But you will see, where the two sleep in love
having gone to my bed, and I am grieved looking on.
I don't expect them to lie so for even a little while,
though they love each other greatly. Soon the two will not want
to sleep, but the snare and the bond will hold them,
until he pays me back all the bride-gifts,
as many as I gave him for the sake of the shameless girl,
because his daughter is beautiful, but she is not faithful."
So he spoke, and the gods gathered at the bronze-floored house.
Came Poseidon the earth-holder, came the helpful
Hermes, and came the lord, the far-working Apollo.
But the female goddesses stayed at home, each from modesty.
The gods stood in the doorway, givers of good things,
and unquenchable laughter arose among the blessed gods
as they looked at the crafts of the cunning Hephaestus.
One would say, looking at another near him:
"Evil deeds do not prosper. The slow catches the swift,
as now Hephaestus, being slow, caught Ares,
though he is the swiftest of the gods who hold Olympus,
being lame, by his crafts. So the adulterer pays the penalty."
So they spoke such things to one another.
To Hermes spoke the lord, the son of Zeus, Apollo:
"Hermes, son of Zeus, guide, giver of good things,
would you then be willing, pressed in strong bonds,
to sleep in bed beside golden Aphrodite?"
The guide, the slayer of Argus, answered him then:
"Would that this might happen, lord Apollo, far-shooter.
May three times as many bonds, endless, hold me around,
and may you gods and all the goddesses look on,
and may I sleep beside golden Aphrodite."
So he spoke, and laughter arose among the deathless gods.
Laughter did not hold Poseidon, and he kept begging
famous-craftsman Hephaestus to release Ares.
Speaking, he addressed him with winged words:
"Release him, and I promise you myself, as you bid,
he will pay all that is fitting among the deathless gods."
Again the renowned lame god answered him:
"Do not, Poseidon the earth-holder, tell me these things,
for the pledges of the wretched are wretched pledges.
How could I bind you among the deathless gods,
if Ares should go off, escaping his debt and the bond?"
Again Poseidon the earth-shaker answered him:
"Hephaestus, if indeed Ares escapes his debt
and goes off in flight, I myself will pay you this."
Again the renowned lame god answered him:
"It is not possible nor fitting to deny your word."
So speaking he loosed the bond, the strength of Hephaestus.
The two, when they were loosed from the bond, strong as it was,
straightaway sprang up, and he went off to Thrace,
and she reached Cyprus, laughter-loving Aphrodite,
to Paphos, where she has a precinct and a fragrant altar.
There the Graces bathed her and anointed her with oil
immortal, such as is upon the gods who are forever,
and put lovely clothing around her, a wonder to see.
These things the famous singer sang, but Odysseus
was delighted in his own heart as he listened, and so were the others,
the long-oared Phaeacians, men famous for ships.
Alcinous told Halius and Laodamas
to dance alone, since no one contended with them.
When they had taken in their hands the beautiful ball,
a purple one, which warlike Polybus had made for them,
one of them would throw it toward the shadowy clouds,
leaning backward, and the other, springing up from the ground,
would easily catch it before his feet reached the floor.
When they had tried the ball in a straight line,
then they danced on the much-nourishing earth,
swiftly changing places, and the other young men cried out
standing around the assembly place, and a great din arose.
Then brilliant Odysseus said to Alcinous:
"Lord Alcinous, most conspicuous of all peoples,
you declared that your dancers are the best,
and indeed it has been made ready. Awe holds me as I look on."
So he spoke, and the sacred strength of Alcinous rejoiced,
and straightaway he said to the Phaeacians, who love the oar:
"Listen, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians.
This stranger seems to me to be very prudent.
But come, let us give him a guest-gift, as is fitting.
For twelve conspicuous kings throughout the district
rule as leaders, and I myself am the thirteenth.
Of them let each bring him a well-washed cloak and tunic
and a talent of precious gold.
Let us quickly bring everything together, so that in his hands
the stranger may have them and go rejoicing in heart to dinner.
Let Euryalus make amends to him with words
and with a gift, since he did not speak a word in order."
So he spoke, and they all approved and ordered it,
and each sent a herald to bring the gifts.
Again Euryalus answered him and said:
"Lord Alcinous, most conspicuous of all peoples,
therefore I will make amends to the stranger, as you bid.
I will give him this all-bronze sword, on which the hilt
is silver, and the scabbard of newly cut ivory
is fitted around it, and it will be worth much to him."
So speaking he placed the silver-studded sword in his hands
and speaking addressed him with winged words:
"Hail, father stranger, and if any word has gone
amiss, may the storm winds snatch it away at once.
May the gods grant you to see your wife and reach your fatherland,
since you have long suffered hardships away from your loved ones."
In answer to him much-devising Odysseus said:
"And you, friend, rejoice greatly, and may the gods give you prosperity.
May you never afterward regret this sword,
which you have given me, making amends with words."
He spoke, and put the silver-studded sword over his shoulders.
The sun set, and the glorious gifts were at hand.
The noble heralds carried them to Alcinous' house,
and receiving them the sons of blameless Alcinous
placed the very beautiful gifts beside their revered mother.
The sacred strength of Alcinous led them,
and when they had come they sat down on the high seats.
Then indeed the strength of Alcinous said to Arete:
"Come, wife, bring a conspicuous chest, the best there is,
and put a well-washed cloak and tunic in it yourself.
Warm a bronze vessel over the fire for him, and heat water,
so that when he has bathed and seen all the gifts
laid out well, which the blameless Phaeacians brought here,
he may delight in the feast and hear the hymn of song.
I will give him this beautiful cup of mine,
golden, so that remembering me all his days
he may pour libations in his hall to Zeus and the other gods."
So he spoke, and Arete told the maidservants
to set a great tripod over the fire as quickly as possible.
They set the bath-water tripod in the blazing fire,
and poured water in it, and taking wood kindled it underneath.
The fire surrounded the belly of the tripod, and the water heated,
meanwhile Arete brought out for the stranger the very beautiful chest
from the chamber, and placed the beautiful gifts in it,
clothing and gold, which the Phaeacians had given him,
and she herself put in it a cloak and a beautiful tunic,
and speaking addressed him with winged words:
"Now look at the lid yourself, and quickly put on the seal,
lest someone harm you on the way, whenever again
you sleep a sweet sleep going in the black ship."
When much-enduring brilliant Odysseus heard this,
he straightaway fitted the lid, and quickly put on the cunning
seal, which lady Circe once taught him in her mind.
At once the housekeeper told him to bathe,
entering the bath, and he gladly in his heart saw
the warm baths, since he had not often had such care,
since he left the house of fair-haired Calypso.
Meanwhile his care was as steady as a god's.
When the maidservants had bathed him and anointed him with oil,
and thrown a beautiful cloak and tunic around him,
he came out of the bath and went to the wine-drinking men,
and Nausicaa, who had beauty from the gods,
stood beside the doorpost of the well-built roof,
and marveled as she looked at Odysseus with her eyes,
and speaking addressed him with winged words:
"Hail, stranger, so that sometime when you are in your fatherland
you may remember me, because you owe me first the price of your life."
In answer to her much-devising Odysseus said:
"Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,
so may Zeus bring it about, the loud-thundering husband of Hera,
that you come home and see the day of your return.
Then I would pray to you even there as to a god
always all my days, for you saved my life, maiden."
He spoke, and sat down on a seat beside King Alcinous,
and they were already serving portions and mixing wine.
The herald came near leading the trusty singer,
Demodocus, honored by the people, and he seated him
in the middle of the feasters, leaning him against a tall pillar.
Then much-devising Odysseus said to the herald,
cutting off from the back, and more was left over,
of a white-tusked boar, and rich fat was around it:
"Herald, here, give this meat to Demodocus,
so that he may eat, and I will greet him though I am grieving,
for to all men upon the earth singers
have a share of honor and reverence, because the Muse
taught them songs, and she loved the tribe of singers."
So he spoke, and the herald brought it and placed it in his hands,
to the hero Demodocus, and he received it and rejoiced in his heart.
They reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.
When they had put away their desire for drink and food,
then much-devising Odysseus said to Demodocus:
"Demodocus, above all mortals I praise you exceedingly.
Either the Muse taught you, child of Zeus, or Apollo,
for very much in order you sing the fate of the Achaeans,
all that they did and suffered and all that the Achaeans toiled,
as if you had been there yourself or heard from another.
But come now, change and sing the fashioning of the horse
of wood, which Epeius made with Athena,
which brilliant Odysseus once brought to the citadel as a trick,
filling it with men who sacked Ilion.
If you will recount these things to me in order,
straightaway I will tell all men
that a god willingly granted you divine song."
So he spoke, and the singer, starting from the god, began and revealed his song,
taking it up from the point where they, on their well-benched ships,
went and sailed away, having set fire to their huts,
the Argives, and those others with glorious Odysseus
sat in the Trojans' assembly place, hidden in the horse,
for the Trojans themselves had dragged it to the citadel.
So it stood there, and they said many undecided things,
sitting around it, and the counsel pleased them three ways:
either to cut the hollow wood with pitiless bronze,
or to drag it up and throw it from the rocks on the height,
or to let it be a great offering, a charm for the gods,
in which way indeed it was afterward going to be accomplished,
for it was fated that they perish, when the city enclosed
the great wooden horse, where all the best
of the Argives sat, bringing slaughter and death to the Trojans.
He sang how the sons of the Achaeans sacked the city,
pouring out from the horse, leaving the hollow ambush.
He sang how one man laid waste the steep city here, another there,
but Odysseus went to the house of Deiphobus
like Ares together with godlike Menelaus.
There indeed he said that, having dared the most terrible war,
he conquered, and then through great-hearted Athena.
These things the famous singer sang, but Odysseus
melted, and wet his cheeks with tears beneath his eyelids.
As when a woman weeps, falling upon her dear husband,
who has fallen before his city and his people,
defending his town and children from the pitiless day,
and she, seeing him dying and gasping,
falls upon him and wails shrilly, and others behind her
striking her back and shoulders with spears
lead her into slavery, to have toil and misery,
and her cheeks waste away with most pitiable grief,
so Odysseus shed a pitiable tear beneath his brows.
There he went unnoticed by all the others as he shed tears,
but Alcinous alone noticed him and understood,
sitting near him, and he heard him groaning heavily.
At once he spoke to the Phaeacians, who love the oar:
"Listen, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,
and let Demodocus now hold his clear lyre,
for he does not sing these things pleasing to all alike.
From the time we began to dine and the divine singer rose,
from then the stranger has not yet stopped his woeful lamenting.
Surely grief has greatly surrounded his mind.
But come, let him hold it, so that we may all alike be delighted,
both hosts and guest, since that is far better,
for it has been done for the sake of the revered stranger,
the escort and the dear gifts, which we give him in love.
For a stranger and a suppliant is like a brother
to a man who touches his heart even a little.
Therefore now do not hide in cunning thoughts
whatever I may ask you, and it is better for you to speak.
Tell me the name that your mother and father called you there,
and the others who are in the city and those who dwell around it.
For no man at all is nameless among humans,
neither base nor noble, once he is first born,
but parents put a name on all, when they have children.
And tell me your land, your district and your city,
so that our ships may convey you there, aiming with their minds,
for the Phaeacians have no steersmen,
nor are there any rudders, which other ships have,
but the ships themselves know the thoughts and minds of men,
and they know all the cities and rich fields
of men, and they cross the gulf of the sea most swiftly
covered in mist and cloud, and there is never for them
any fear of being harmed or perishing.
But this, as I once heard my father saying,
Nausithous, who said that Poseidon was angry
with us, because we are blameless escorts for all.
He said that once a well-built ship of Phaeacian men,
returning from an escort in the misty sea,
would be struck, and a great mountain would cover our city.
So the old man spoke, and the god might either accomplish
or leave unaccomplished these things, as was dear to his heart.
But come, tell me this and recount it accurately,
where you wandered and which lands
of men you came to, both themselves and their well-inhabited cities,
both those who are harsh and savage and not just,
and those who are hospitable, and whose mind is god-fearing.
And tell me why you weep and lament within your heart
hearing the fate of the Argive Danaans and of Ilion.
The gods made that, and spun destruction
for men, so that there might be song even for those to come.
Did some kinsman of yours also perish before Ilion,
being noble, a son-in-law or father-in-law, who are most
near and dear after one's own blood and family?
Or perhaps some companion, a man knowing gracious things,
noble? Since he is in no way worse than a brother,
whoever, being a companion, knows prudent things.

### Book 9

Then Odysseus, full of tricks, answered him and said:
"Alcinous, lord, most distinguished of all peoples,
it really is a fine thing to listen to a singer
like this one, whose voice is like the gods'.
For I say there is no more pleasant end than this:
when joy holds the whole community,
and the diners throughout the hall listen to the singer
sitting in a row, while the tables are filled
with bread and meat, and the cupbearer draws wine from the bowl
and carries it around and pours it into the cups.
This seems to me the best thing in my mind.
But your heart has turned to asking about my painful sorrows,
so that I may grieve and groan still more.
So what shall I tell you first, and what shall I tell you last?
For the gods in heaven have given me many sorrows.
But now I will first tell my name, so that you too
may know it, and then, after escaping the pitiless day,
I may be a guest to you, though I live in a home far away.
I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, who is known among all people
for every kind of trick, and my fame reaches heaven.
I live in Ithaca, a land of clear light; and there is a mountain in it,
Neriton, shaking with leaves, very conspicuous; and around it
many islands lie very close to one another,
Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus.
Ithaca itself lies low, farthest out in the sea,
toward the darkness, while the others lie away toward the dawn and the sun,
a rough land, but a good nurse of men; and I
cannot see anything sweeter than my own land.
Calypso, shining among goddesses, certainly kept me there
in her hollow caves, wanting me to be her husband;
and in the same way Circe, the scheming one, held me back in her halls,
in Aeaea, wanting me to be her husband;
but they never persuaded the heart in my breast.
So nothing is sweeter than a man's own country and his parents,
not even if someone lives far away in a rich house
in a foreign land, far from his parents.
But come, I will tell you about my sorrowful journey home,
which Zeus laid on me when I set out from Troy.
From Troy the wind carried me and brought me to the Cicones,
to Ismarus. There I sacked the city and killed the men;
and taking the wives and many possessions from the city
we divided them, so that no one would go short of an equal share.
There I told my men to run away with quick feet,
but they were very foolish and did not obey me.
There much wine was drunk, and many sheep
they killed on the shore, and cattle with a rolling walk and curved horns.
Meanwhile the Cicones who had gone off called to the other Cicones,
their neighbours, who were more numerous and stronger,
who lived on the mainland and knew how to fight men
from horseback, and on foot where fighting on foot was needed.
Then they came, as many as the leaves and flowers in spring,
at dawn; and then the evil fate of Zeus stood by us,
for us doomed men, so that we would suffer many pains.
They formed their ranks and fought a battle by the swift ships,
and they threw bronze-tipped spears at one another.
As long as it was morning and the sacred day grew,
we stood our ground and held out against their greater numbers.
But when the sun turned toward the time for unyoking oxen,
then the Cicones broke and beat the Achaeans.
And from each ship six well-greaved companions
died; and the rest of us escaped death and fate.
From there we sailed on, grieving at heart,
glad to have escaped death, but having lost our dear companions.
And my curved ships did not move on
before we had called out three times to each of the poor men
who died, killed on the plain by the Cicones.
But Zeus the cloud-gatherer stirred the North Wind against our ships
with a terrible squall, and with clouds he covered
the earth together with the sea; night rushed down from heaven.
Then the ships were carried headlong, and the force of the wind
tore the sails into three and four pieces.
And we lowered them into the ships, afraid of destruction,
and rowed the ships quickly toward the mainland.
There for two nights and two days in a row, constantly,
we lay, eating our hearts out with tiredness and pain.
But when the third day was ended by fair-haired Dawn,
we set up the masts and pulled up the white sails
and sat down, and the wind and the helmsmen steered the ships.
And I would have come safely to my native land,
but the wave and the current, as I rounded Malea,
and the North Wind drove me back, and I was carried past Cythera.
From there for nine days I was carried by destructive winds
over the fish-filled sea; but on the tenth we set foot
on the land of the Lotus-eaters, who eat a flowery food.
There we went ashore and drew water,
and my comrades quickly took their meal by the swift ships.
But when we had eaten food and drink,
then I sent my comrades to go and find out
what men they were who ate bread in that land,
choosing two men, and sending a herald along as a third with them.
They went quickly and mixed with the Lotus-eating men;
and the Lotus-eaters did not plan any harm for my comrades,
but they gave them the lotus to eat.
And whoever of them ate the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus
no longer wanted to report back or to come home,
but they wanted to stay there among the Lotus-eating men,
feeding on the lotus, and to forget their journey home.
I brought these men to the ships, crying, by force,
and I dragged them into the hollow ships and tied them under the benches.
And I told the rest of my trusty comrades
to hurry and get on board the swift ships,
in case anyone ate the lotus and forgot his journey home.
They quickly got on board and sat at the rowing benches,
and sitting in a row they struck the grey sea with their oars.
From there we sailed on, grieving at heart,
and we came to the land of the Cyclopes, the arrogant and lawless people,
who trust in the immortal gods
and neither plant any plant with their hands nor plough the earth,
but all these things grow unsown and unploughed,
wheat and barley and vines, which bear
wine from fine clusters, and the rain of Zeus makes them grow.
They have no councils to give advice and no laws,
but they live on the peaks of high mountains
in hollow caves, and each one makes the rules
for his children and his wife, and they take no notice of one another.
Then there is a low island lying just beyond the harbour,
neither near the land of the Cyclopes nor far from it,
wooded; and on it countless wild goats have been born;
for no path of men keeps them away,
and no hunters go into it, who through the woods
suffer hardship, following the peaks of the mountains.
It is not held by flocks or used for ploughing,
but all its days it lies unsown and unploughed,
empty of men, and it feeds bleating goats.
For the Cyclopes have no ships with red-painted sides,
and there are no shipwrights among them, who could build
well-benched ships, which could do everything
by reaching the towns of men, all the many places
where men cross the sea in ships to one another's lands,
men who could also have made them a well-built island.
For it is not a bad land at all, but would bear everything in season;
for in it are meadows along the shores of the grey sea,
well-watered and soft; vines would grow there without fail.
And in it there is smooth ploughland; they would always reap a deep crop
season after season, since the soil beneath is very rich.
And in it there is a good harbour, where there is no need of a rope,
nor to throw out anchor stones nor to tie stern-ropes,
but to beach the ship and wait for the time until the sailors'
hearts urge them on and the breezes blow.
And at the head of the harbour bright water flows,
a spring under a cave; and around it black poplars grow.
There we sailed in, and some god guided us
through the dark night, and we could not see by the light;
for a deep mist lay over the ships, and the moon
did not shine from the sky, and it was covered by clouds.
So no one saw that island with his eyes,
and we did not see the long waves rolling toward the shore
before we had beached the well-benched ships.
And when the ships were beached, we lowered all the sails,
and we ourselves also went out onto the wave-beat shore;
there we fell asleep and waited for shining Dawn.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
we wandered around the island, marvelling at it.
And the nymphs, daughters of Zeus who holds the aegis, roused
mountain goats, so that my comrades could have dinner.
Straight away we took curved bows and long-shafted spears
from the ships, and dividing into three groups we
threw; and a god soon gave us a satisfying hunt.
Twelve ships followed me, and to each ship
nine goats fell by lot; and for me alone they set aside ten.
So then for the whole day until the sun went down
we sat feasting on endless meat and sweet wine;
for the red wine from the ships was not yet gone,
but was still there; for we had drawn much into jars
from the Cicones, when we took the sacred citadel.
And we looked at the land of the Cyclopes, who were near,
and at their smoke and their voices, and at those of their sheep and goats.
But when the sun had set and darkness came,
then we slept on the wave-beat shore.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then I held an assembly and spoke among them all:
"You others now stay here, my trusty comrades;
but I, with my own ship and with my own comrades,
will go and find out about these men, who they are,
whether they are violent and savage and not just,
or kind to strangers, and have a god-fearing mind."
So speaking I went aboard the ship, and I ordered my comrades
to get on board themselves and untie the stern-ropes.
They quickly got on board and sat at the rowing benches,
and sitting in a row they struck the grey sea with their oars.
But when we came to that place, it being near,
there at the edge we saw a cave close to the sea,
high, roofed over with laurels. There many
flocks, sheep and goats, used to sleep; and around it a courtyard
had been built high with stones set in the ground
and with long pines and high-crowned oaks.
There a monstrous man used to sleep, who alone
pastured his flocks, far away; and he did not go about
among others, but living apart he knew lawless ways.
For he had been made a monstrous wonder, and he did not look like
a man who eats bread, but rather like a wooded peak
of the high mountains, which appears alone, apart from the others.
Then I ordered the rest of my trusty comrades
to stay there by the ship and guard the ship,
but I chose twelve of my comrades, the best of them,
and went; and I had a goatskin of dark wine,
sweet, which Maron gave me, son of Euanthes,
priest of Apollo, who protected Ismarus,
because we had sheltered him with his child and his wife
out of respect; for he lived in a wooded grove
of Phoebus Apollo. And he gave me splendid gifts:
he gave me seven talents of well-worked gold,
and he gave me a mixing bowl all of silver, and then
he drew off wine into twelve jars in all,
sweet, unmixed, a divine drink; and none
of his slaves or serving women in the house knew about it,
but only he himself and his dear wife and one housekeeper.
And when they drank that honey-sweet red wine,
he would fill one cup with water, and twenty measures
he would pour in; and a sweet smell from the bowl
rose up wonderfully; then it was not easy to hold back from it.
Of this I filled a big goatskin and carried it, and also
food in a basket; for at once my proud heart guessed
that a man would come upon us, clothed in great strength,
savage, one who knew neither justice nor laws.
Quickly we came to the cave, but we did not find him
inside, but he was pasturing his flocks on the rich pasture.
After entering the cave, we looked at everything.
The baskets were heavy with cheeses, and the pens were crowded
with lambs and kids; and each kind was penned
separately, the older ones apart, the middle ones apart,
and the newborn apart. And all the vessels were full of whey,
crates and bowls, well made, in which he milked.
Then at first my comrades begged me with words
to take some of the cheeses and go back, and then
quickly to drive the kids and lambs out of the pens
to the swift ship and sail over the salt water;
but I did not obey, and it really would have been far better,
so that I might see him, and see whether he would give me guest-gifts.
But he was not going to be a welcome sight to my comrades.
There we lit a fire and made sacrifice, and we ourselves
took some of the cheeses and ate, and we waited for him inside,
sitting, until he came back herding. And he carried a mighty load
of dry wood, so that he would have it for his supper;
and throwing it down inside the cave he made a noise.
And we, afraid, rushed away to the inner corner of the cave.
But he drove his fat flocks into the wide cave,
all those he milked; but he left the males outside the door,
the rams and the he-goats, outside the deep courtyard.
Then he lifted and set in place a great door-stone,
a mighty one; not even twenty-two
good four-wheeled wagons could have shifted it from the ground;
so huge a rock he set in the doorway.
Sitting down he milked the sheep and the bleating goats,
all in the right order, and he put a suckling under each.
Straight away he curdled half the white milk
and gathered it into woven baskets and set it down,
and the other half he put into vessels, so that it would be there
for him to take and drink, and be there for his supper.
But when he had hurried and finished his work,
then he lit a fire and saw us, and asked us:
"Strangers, who are you? From where do you sail the watery ways?
Is it for some business, or do you wander at random,
like pirates over the sea, who wander about
risking their lives and bringing harm to strangers?"
So he spoke, and our own dear hearts were broken inside us,
because we were afraid of his heavy voice and of the huge man himself.
But even so I answered him and spoke in words:
"We are Achaeans, driven off course from Troy
by all sorts of winds over the great gulf of the sea,
hurrying home, but by another road and other ways
we have come; so, I suppose, Zeus wanted it to be planned that way.
And we claim to be the people of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,
whose fame is now the greatest under heaven;
for he sacked so great a city and destroyed many
people. And we, coming to your knees as suppliants,
have come, in case you might give us a guest-gift, or otherwise
give us a present, which is the custom for strangers.
But respect the gods, best of men; we are your suppliants,
and Zeus is the avenger of suppliants and of strangers,
the protector of guests, who attends upon reverend strangers."
So I spoke, and he answered me at once with a pitiless heart:
"You are a fool, stranger, or you have come from far away,
who tells me to fear the gods or to avoid them;
for the Cyclopes do not care about Zeus who holds the aegis
nor about the blessed gods, since we are far stronger;
nor would I, to avoid the hatred of Zeus, spare
either you or your comrades, unless my heart told me to.
But tell me where you moored your well-made ship,
whether somewhere at the edge, or near, so that I may know."
So he spoke, testing me, but I knew too much to be caught out,
and I answered him again with tricky words:
"Poseidon the earth-shaker has broken my ship
hurling it against the rocks at the borders of your land,
driving it onto a headland; and the wind brought it in from the sea;
but I with these men here escaped sheer destruction."
So I spoke, but he answered me nothing with his pitiless heart,
but he sprang up and threw his hands at my comrades,
and snatching two of them he dashed them on the ground like puppies,
and their brains ran down to the earth and wetted the ground.
Then he cut them limb from limb and made ready his supper;
and he ate like a mountain-bred lion, and left nothing behind,
neither guts nor flesh nor bones with marrow.
And we, crying, held up our hands to Zeus,
seeing these dreadful deeds, and helplessness held our hearts.
But when the Cyclops had filled his great belly
by eating human flesh and drinking unmixed milk,
he lay down inside the cave, stretched out among his flocks.
Then I planned in my great-hearted spirit
to go near him, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,
and to strike him in the chest, where the midriff holds the liver,
feeling with my hand; but another thought held me back.
For there we too would have died in sheer destruction;
for we could not have pushed back with our hands the high
door-stone, the mighty rock which he had set in place.
So then, groaning, we waited for shining Dawn.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then he lit a fire and milked his famous flocks,
all in the right order, and he put a suckling under each.
But when he had hurried and finished his work,
then he snatched two more of us and made ready his meal.
After eating, he drove his fat flocks out of the cave,
easily lifting away the great door-stone; and then
he put it back, as if he were putting a lid on a quiver.
With loud whistling the Cyclops turned his fat flocks toward the mountain;
but I was left behind, planning evil in my heart,
whether I might somehow take revenge, if Athena would give me glory.
And this plan seemed best to me in my heart.
For there lay the Cyclops' great club beside the pen,
green and made of olive wood; he had cut it, so that he could carry it
once it had dried. We judged it, looking at it,
to be as big as the mast of a ship of twenty oars, black,
a broad merchant ship, which crosses the great gulf;
so long was it, and so thick to look at.
I stood and cut off about a fathom of it
and laid it beside my comrades, and told them to smooth it;
they made it even; and I stood and sharpened
the point, and taking it at once I hardened it in the blazing fire.
And I laid it carefully, hiding it under the dung,
which lay spread through the cave in great heaps;
and I ordered the others to cast lots by shaking,
to see who would dare with me to lift the stake
and grind it in his eye, whenever sweet sleep came upon him.
And the lot fell to those whom I myself would have chosen,
four of them, and I chose myself as fifth among them.
In the evening he came, herding his fair-fleeced flocks.
Straight away he drove his fat flocks into the wide cave,
all of them, and left nothing outside the deep courtyard,
either because he suspected something, or a god told him to.
Then he lifted and set in place the great door-stone,
and sitting down he milked the sheep and the bleating goats,
all in the right order, and he put a suckling under each.
But when he had hurried and finished his work,
then he snatched two more of us and made ready his supper.
And then I stood near the Cyclops and spoke to him,
holding in my hands a cup of dark wine:
"Cyclops, here, drink wine, since you have eaten human flesh,
so that you may know what kind of drink our ship
was carrying. And I brought it to you as a drink-offering, in case you would take pity on me
and send me home; but you are raging beyond all bearing.
Wretch, how could any other man later come to you
among the many, since you have acted against what is right?"
So I spoke, and he took it and drank it; and he was terribly pleased
to drink the sweet drink, and he asked me for a second:
"Give me more willingly, and tell me your name
right now, so that I may give you a guest-gift that you will enjoy;
for the grain-giving earth bears for the Cyclopes
wine from fine clusters, and the rain of Zeus makes it grow;
but this is a stream of ambrosia and nectar."
So he spoke, and I gave him the flaming wine again.
Three times I gave it, carrying it, and three times he drank in his foolishness.
But when the wine had gone to the Cyclops' wits,
then I spoke to him with honeyed words:
"Cyclops, you ask me my famous name, and I
will tell you; but you must give me the guest-gift, as you promised.
Nobody is my name; and Nobody is what they call me,
my mother and my father and all my other comrades."
So I spoke, and he answered me at once with a pitiless heart:
"Nobody I will eat last, after his comrades,
and the others first; that will be your guest-gift."
He spoke, and leaning back he fell on his back, and then
he lay there with his thick neck twisted aside, and sleep
the all-subduer seized him; and out of his throat poured wine
and pieces of human flesh; and he belched, heavy with wine.
And then I pushed the stake under a lot of ash,
until it would grow warm; and with words I encouraged
all my comrades, so that none would shrink back through fear.
But when the olive-wood stake was about to catch
in the fire, green though it was, and glowed terribly,
then I brought it near, out of the fire, and around me my comrades
stood; and a god breathed great courage into us.
They took the olive-wood stake, sharp at the point,
and thrust it into his eye; and I, pressing down from above,
turned it, as when a man bores a ship's timber
with a drill, and others below keep it spinning with a strap
they have fastened on both sides, and it runs on without stopping.
So we took the fire-sharpened stake in his eye and turned it,
and the blood flowed all around it, hot as it was.
And the steam singed all his eyelids and his eyebrows,
as the eyeball burned, and its roots crackled in the fire.
As when a smith dips a great axe or an adze
in cold water, and it hisses loudly,
tempering it; for that is the strength of iron,
so his eye hissed around the olive-wood stake.
And he bellowed terribly, and the rock echoed all around,
and we, afraid, rushed back; but he
pulled the stake out of his eye, all smeared with much blood.
Then he threw it away from him with his hands, frantic,
and he shouted loudly to the Cyclopes, who lived
around him in caves along the windy peaks.
They heard his shout and came running from all sides,
and standing around the cave they asked what was troubling him:
"Why, Polyphemus, have you cried out like this in your grief
through the immortal night, and made us sleepless?
Surely no mortal is driving your flocks away against your will?
Surely no one is killing you by trickery or by force?"
And mighty Polyphemus answered them from the cave:
"My friends, Nobody is killing me by trickery and not by force."
And they answered him and spoke winged words:
"If then no one is doing you violence, you being alone,
then it is not possible to avoid the sickness sent by great Zeus;
but pray to lord Poseidon, your father."
So they spoke and went away, and my own dear heart laughed,
at how my name and my blameless cunning had deceived him.
And the Cyclops, groaning and gripped by pangs of pain,
groping with his hands took the stone from the doorway
and sat himself down in the doorway, stretching out his hands,
in case he might catch someone going out among the sheep;
for that is how he thought me to be a fool in his heart.
But I planned how it might turn out best,
whether I could find for my comrades and for myself
some release from death; and I wove all kinds of trickery and cunning
as if for my very life; for a great evil was at hand.
And this plan seemed best to me in my heart.
There were well-fed rams, thick-fleeced,
beautiful and large, with wool of violet dark.
These I silently tied together with well-twisted withes,
on which the monstrous Cyclops, knowing lawless ways, used to sleep,
taking them three at a time; and the middle one carried a man,
and the other two on either side went along protecting the comrades.
So three men were carried by each sheep; but I,
for there was a ram, by far the best of all the flocks,
taking hold of his back, I curled up beneath his shaggy belly
and lay there; and with my hands, clutching the wondrous wool,
I clung on without stopping, twisted in, with a patient heart.
So then, groaning, we waited for shining Dawn.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then the male flocks rushed out to the pasture,
but the females bleated unmilked around the pens;
for their udders were bursting. And the master, tormented
by cruel pains, touched the backs of all the sheep
as they stood upright; but the fool did not notice
that beneath the woolly sheep his men were tied to their chests.
Last of the flock the ram came out through the doorway,
weighed down by his wool and by me, thinking close thoughts.
And mighty Polyphemus touched him and spoke:
"Dear ram, why have you come through the cave last of the flock?
Never before have you come left behind the sheep,
but you grazed far ahead first among the tender flowers of grass,
striding far, and you were first to reach the streams of rivers,
and you were first to long to return to the sheepfold
in the evening; now you are last of all. Surely you are longing for your master's
eye, which a wicked man blinded
with his wretched comrades, after his wits were overcome with wine,
Nobody, whom I say has not yet escaped destruction.
If only you could think as I do and find a voice
to tell me where that man is escaping my fury;
then his brains would be dashed through the cave, here and there,
as he is struck, upon the floor, and my heart
would be eased of the griefs that worthless Nobody gave me."
So speaking he sent the ram out from him through the doorway.
And when we had gone a little from the cave and the courtyard,
first I untied myself from under the ram, and I untied my comrades.
And quickly, the sheep with long feet and rich with fat,
many of them, we drove them along, turning them about, until we came
to the ship. And we appeared welcome to our dear comrades,
we who had escaped death; but for the others they groaned and wept.
But I would not let them, and I nodded to each with my brows,
to weep, but I ordered them quickly to throw the many
fair-fleeced sheep into the ship and sail over the salt water.
They quickly got on board and sat at the rowing benches,
and sitting in a row they struck the grey sea with their oars.
But when we were as far off as a man's shout carries,
then I spoke to the Cyclops with mocking words:
"Cyclops, you were not going to eat the comrades of a weak man
in your hollow cave by your brute force.
And your evil deeds were certainly going to catch up with you,
wretch, since you did not shrink from eating your guests
in your own house; therefore Zeus has punished you, and the other gods."
So I spoke, and he was angered still more in his heart,
and he broke off the peak of a great mountain and hurled it,
and it fell in front of the dark-prowed ship,
a little short, and it missed reaching the tip of the steering-oar.
And the sea was stirred up as the rock came down;
and the back-rushing wave carried it straight for the shore,
a flood from the deep, and forced it to reach the land.
But I took in my hands a long pole
and pushed it off, and urging on my comrades I ordered them
to fall to the oars, so that we might escape disaster,
nodding with my head; and they leaned forward and rowed.
But when we had gone twice as far over the sea,
then I spoke to the Cyclops; and around me my comrades
held me back from one side and another with gentle words:
"Wretch, why do you want to provoke a savage man,
who even now has thrown a missile into the sea and driven the ship
back to the land, and we thought we had died there.
And if he hears the voice or the speech of any of us,
he will smash our heads and the ship's timbers together,
hurling a jagged rock; for that is how far he throws."
So they spoke, but they did not persuade my great-hearted spirit,
but I answered him again with an angry heart:
"Cyclops, if any mortal man
asks you about the shameful blinding of your eye,
say that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, blinded you,
son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca."
So I spoke, and he groaned and answered me with words:
"Alas, truly the old prophecies have come upon me.
There was a prophet here, a man good and great,
Telemus, son of Eurymus, who was skilled in prophecy
and grew old among the Cyclopes prophesying;
he told me that all these things would come to pass later on,
that I would lose my sight at the hands of Odysseus.
But I always expected some man great and handsome
to come here, clothed in great strength;
but now a man who is small and worthless and feeble
has blinded my eye, after he overcame me with wine.
But come here, Odysseus, so that I may set guest-gifts before you,
and urge the famous earth-shaker to grant you safe passage;
for I am his son, and he claims to be my father.
He himself, if he wishes, will heal me, and no one else,
neither of the blessed gods nor of mortal men."
So he spoke, and I answered him and said:
"If only I could strip you of life and of soul
and send you to the house of Hades,
as surely as not even the earth-shaker will heal your eye."
So I spoke, and then he prayed to lord Poseidon,
stretching his hands up to the starry heaven:
"Hear me, Poseidon, earth-holder, dark-haired,
if truly I am yours, and you claim to be my father,
grant that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, may not come home,
the son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca.
But if it is his fate to see his loved ones and to come
to his well-built house and to his native land,
may he come late and in misery, having lost all his comrades,
on a stranger's ship, and may he find troubles in his house."
So he spoke in prayer, and the dark-haired one heard him.
But he lifted a far greater stone again
and hurled it, swinging it, and put his boundless strength behind it,
and it fell behind the dark-prowed ship,
a little short, and it missed reaching the tip of the steering-oar.
And the sea was stirred up as the rock came down;
and the wave carried it forward and forced it to reach the land.
But when we came to the island, where the other
well-benched ships were waiting together, and around them the comrades
sat grieving, always waiting for us,
when we came there we beached the ship in the sand,
and we ourselves also went out onto the wave-beat shore.
And taking the Cyclops' sheep from the hollow ship
we divided them, so that no one would go short of an equal share.
And the well-greaved comrades gave the ram to me alone,
as the flocks were divided, a gift of special honour; and on the shore
I cut the thigh-bones and burned them for Zeus the dark-clouded, son of Cronos, who rules over all;
but he did not pay attention to the offerings,
but he pondered how all my well-benched ships
might be destroyed, and my trusty comrades.
So then for the whole day until the sun went down
we sat feasting on endless meat and sweet wine;
but when the sun had set and darkness came,
then we slept on the wave-beat shore.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then I urged on my comrades and ordered them
to get on board themselves and untie the stern-ropes.
They quickly got on board and sat at the rowing benches,
and sitting in a row they struck the grey sea with their oars.
From there we sailed on, grieving at heart,
glad to have escaped death, but having lost our dear companions.

### Book 10

We reached the island of Aeolus, and there lived
Aeolus son of Hippotas, loved by the immortal gods,
on a floating island. All around it ran a wall
of bronze that could not be broken, and a sheer cliff went up.
He had twelve children born in his halls,
six daughters and six sons in their prime,
and he gave his daughters to his sons as wives.
They always eat beside their dear father and honored mother,
and beside them lie countless good things,
and the house smells of roasting meat, and the courtyard rings
all day long. At night they sleep beside their respected wives,
on blankets and in beds with cords strung through them.
We came to their city and their beautiful halls.
For a whole month he welcomed me and asked me about everything:
about Troy and the Greek ships and how the Greeks got home.
And I told him everything in order, just as it happened.
But when I asked for the road and begged him
to send me off, he refused nothing and got an escort ready.
He gave me a bag made from the hide of a nine-year-old ox
and tied up inside it the paths of the roaring winds,
because the son of Cronos had made him keeper of the winds,
able to stop them or stir them up, whichever he wanted.
He tied it in the hollow ship with a shining cord,
a silver one, so not even a little wind could leak out.
He sent the West Wind blowing for me,
to carry the ships and us. But he was never going
to finish that job, because we destroyed ourselves by our own stupidity.
Nine days we sailed the same, nights and days,
and on the tenth our homeland fields came into sight,
and being near, we could already see men tending their fires.
Then sweet sleep came over me, because I was tired,
since I always worked the ship's sail-rope myself and never gave it
to any other of my men, so we would reach home faster.
But my men talked among themselves
and said I was bringing gold and silver home,
presents from great-hearted Aeolus, son of Hippotas.
One of them would say, looking at the man next to him:
"Well, look at that! How this man is loved and respected by everyone
in whatever city or land he comes to.
He brings back lots of fine treasures from Troy,
war loot, while we, who made the same trip,
go home with empty hands.
And now Aeolus gave him these things because he liked him.
Come on, let's quickly look at what this is,
how much gold and silver is inside the bag."
That is what they said, and my men's bad plan won out.
They untied the bag, and all the winds burst out.
A squall grabbed them and carried them straight out to sea,
crying, away from our own country. But I
woke up and turned it over in my mind,
whether to throw myself off the ship and die in the sea
or to put up with it in silence and stay alive.
But I put up with it and stayed, and wrapping myself up in the ship
I lay there. The ships were carried by the evil windstorm
back to the island of Aeolus, and my men groaned.
There we went ashore on the mainland and got water,
and my men quickly ate their meal beside the swift ships.
After we had tasted food and drink,
then I took a herald and one of my men
and went to Aeolus' famous halls. I found him
eating beside his wife and his children.
We came into the house and sat on the threshold
by the doorposts, and they were amazed and asked us:
"How did you get back, Odysseus? What evil spirit attacked you?
We sent you off with every care, so you would reach
your own land and house and whatever you love."
That is what they said, and I answered, upset in my heart:
"My bad men ruined me, and on top of that sleep,
that awful sleep. But fix it, friends — you have the power."
That is what I said, trying to win them with gentle words,
and they went silent. But their father answered me:
"Get off this island fast, you worst of all living men.
It is not right for me to help or send on his way
a man who is hated by the blessed gods.
Get out, since you came here hated by the gods."
With that he sent me out of his halls, and I groaned heavily.
From there we sailed on, sad at heart.
The men's spirit was worn down by the painful rowing,
because of our own stupidity, since no escort showed up anymore.
Six days we sailed the same, nights and days,
and on the seventh we came to the steep city of Lamos,
Telepylus of the Laestrygonians, where one shepherd calls to another
as he drives his sheep in, and the other driving his out answers him.
There a man who never slept could earn two wages,
one for herding cattle, one for pasturing the white sheep,
because the paths of night and day are close together there.
When we came to the famous harbor, with a rock
running sheer all the way around it on both sides,
and jutting headlands facing each other
sticking out at the mouth, and the entrance is narrow,
there they brought all their well-made ships inside.
The ships were tied up inside the hollow harbor,
close together, for no wave ever rose in it,
not big and not small, but all around it was white calm.
But I alone kept my black ship outside,
right at the edge, tying the ropes to the rock.
Then I climbed up to a rugged lookout and stood there.
No work of cattle or men could be seen there,
we only saw smoke leaping up from the land.
So I sent men out to go and find out
what kind of men, eaters of bread, lived in that land,
picking two men, and sending a herald as a third with them.
They went ashore and along a smooth road, where wagons
carried wood down from the high mountains to the town.
In front of the town they met a girl getting water,
the daughter of the strong Laestrygonian Antiphates.
She had gone down to the beautiful spring,
Artakia, because that is where they carried water to town.
They stood beside her and spoke to her and asked
who was king of these people and who he ruled over.
She pointed out her father's high-roofed house right away.
When they went into the famous halls, they found the woman
as tall as a mountain peak, and they were horrified by her.
She called famous Antiphates out of the assembly,
her husband, who planned a horrible death for them.
He grabbed one of the men right away and got him ready as a meal.
The other two jumped up and ran and got to the ships.
He raised a shout through the town, and hearing it
the powerful Laestrygonians came running from every direction,
thousands of them, not like men but like Giants.
They threw boulders from the cliffs, big enough to crush a man,
and at once a horrible racket rose over the ships,
of men dying and ships being smashed apart,
and spearing the men like fish they carried them off for a joyless meal.
While they were killing those men inside the deep harbor,
I pulled my sharp sword from beside my thigh
and cut the ropes of my dark-prowed ship with it.
Right away I urged my men on and told them
to throw themselves on the oars, so we could escape the disaster.
They all churned the sea, terrified of dying.
Gladly my ship escaped to the open sea away from the overhanging rocks,
but the other ships all died there together.
From there we sailed on, sad at heart,
glad to be alive, though we had lost our dear friends.
We came to the island of Aeaea, where there lived
Circe of the beautiful hair, a scary goddess who spoke like a human,
own sister of evil-minded Aeetes.
Both were born from Helios who shines on people
and from the mother Perse, who was a daughter of Ocean.
There on the shore we brought the ship in quietly,
into a harbor where ships can stay, and some god guided us.
We went ashore and for two days and two nights
we lay there, eating our hearts out with exhaustion and grief.
But when beautiful-haired Dawn brought the third day,
then I took my spear and sharp sword
and went quickly up from the ship to a lookout,
to see if I could see people's work or hear their voices.
I climbed up to a rugged lookout and stood there,
and smoke showed itself to me from the wide-pathed land,
in Circe's halls, through the thick brush and woods.
Then I wondered in my mind and heart
whether to go and find out, since I had seen the blazing smoke.
As I thought about it, this seemed better to me:
to go first to the swift ship and the shore of the sea
and give my men their meal, then send them out to find out.
But when I was close, coming to the well-made ship,
then one of the gods pitied me, all alone there,
and sent a big stag with tall antlers right into my path
as it came down from its woodland pasture to the river
to drink, because the heat of the sun was on it.
I hit it as it stepped out, on the spine in the middle of its back
with my spear, and the bronze drove right through,
and it fell bellowing in the dust, and its life flew away.
Setting my foot on it, I pulled the bronze spear out of the wound
and laid it down there on the ground.
Then I tore off twigs and willow shoots
and made a rope a fathom long, twisted tight at both ends,
and tied together the feet of the dreadful beast,
and went to the black ship carrying it over my back,
leaning on my spear, because there was no way on my shoulder
to carry it with one hand — it was a very big animal.
I threw it down in front of the ship and woke my men
with gentle words, standing beside each man:
"Friends, we are not going down yet, even though we are grieving,
into the house of Hades, not before our fated day comes.
Come on, while there is food and drink in the swift ship,
let's think about eating and not wear ourselves out with hunger."
That is what I said, and they quickly obeyed me.
They pulled off their cloaks beside the shore of the restless sea
and stared at the stag, because it was a very big animal.
When they had had enough of looking at it,
they washed their hands and made a glorious feast.
So then all day long, until the sun went down,
we sat feasting on endless meat and sweet wine.
When the sun went down and darkness came,
then we lay down to sleep on the edge of the sea.
When early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then I called a meeting and spoke to them all:
"Listen to my words, friends, even though you are suffering.
Friends, we do not know where the darkness is or where the dawn,
or where the sun that shines on people goes under the earth,
or where it rises. So let's think fast
about whether there is any plan left. I don't think there is.
I climbed up to a rugged lookout and saw
an island, with the endless sea ringed around it.
It lies low, and in the middle of it
I saw smoke with my own eyes through the thick brush and woods."
That is what I said, and their hearts broke
as they remembered what the Laestrygonian Antiphates had done
and the violence of great-hearted Cyclops, the man-eater.
They cried out loud, pouring out big tears,
but there was no profit in their crying.
So I split all my well-armed men in two,
counting them, and put a leader over each group.
I led one group, and godlike Eurylochus the other.
We shook lots quickly in a bronze helmet,
and the lot of great-hearted Eurylochus jumped out.
He went, and twenty-two men went with him,
crying, and they left us behind wailing.
They found the well-built house of Circe in a wooded valley,
made of polished stone, in a spot you could see all around.
Around it were mountain wolves and lions,
which she herself had enchanted, because she gave them evil drugs.
They did not attack the men, but instead
they stood up and wagged their long tails, fawning on them.
Like when dogs fawn around their master coming home from a feast
— he always brings them something to please them —
so the strong-clawed wolves and lions fawned around them.
The men were terrified when they saw those awful monsters.
They stood in the doorway of the beautiful-haired goddess,
and inside they heard Circe singing in a lovely voice
as she walked back and forth at a big immortal loom, the kind of work
goddesses do, fine and lovely and shining.
Polites, a leader of men, spoke first among them,
and he was the dearest and most trusted of my men:
"Friends, someone inside is walking at a big loom
and singing beautifully, and the whole floor echoes.
She is either a goddess or a woman. Let's call out to her quickly."
That is what he said, and they called out to her.
She came out at once and opened the shining doors
and called them in, and they all followed her in their foolishness,
but Eurylochus stayed outside, thinking it was a trap.
She brought them in and sat them down on chairs and benches,
and set before them cheese and barley and pale honey
mixed in Pramnian wine, and she stirred into the food
evil drugs, so they would forget their homeland completely.
When she had given it and they drank it, right away then
she hit them with her wand and shut them in the pigpens.
They had the heads and voices and bristles of pigs
and pig bodies, but their minds stayed the same as before.
So they were locked in there, crying, and Circe
threw them acorns and mast and cornel-berry fruit
to eat, the kind of food pigs that sleep on the ground always eat.
Eurylochus came right away to the swift black ship
to tell about the men and their bitter fate.
He could not say a word, even though he wanted to,
his heart hit with terrible grief. His two eyes
filled with tears, and his heart was full of mourning.
But when we all questioned him in amazement,
then he told us how the other men had died:
"We went, like you told us, glorious Odysseus, through the woods.
We found a well-built house in a wooded valley,
made of polished stone, in a spot you could see all around.
Someone inside was walking at a big loom and singing clearly,
either a goddess or a woman, and they called out to her.
She came out at once and opened the shining doors
and called them in, and they all followed her in their foolishness,
but I stayed behind, thinking it was a trap.
They all vanished together, and not one of them
ever came back out. I sat there a long time watching."
That is what he said. I slung my silver-studded sword
over my shoulders, a big bronze one, and my bow too,
and I told him to lead me back the same way.
But he grabbed my knees with both hands and begged me,
and wailing he spoke these winged words:
"Don't make me go there against my will, lord raised by Zeus. Leave me here.
I know you won't come back yourself, and you won't bring
any of your other men back either. Let's run away fast with the men here,
because we could still escape the evil day."
That is what he said, and I answered him:
"Eurylochus, you stay right here in this place,
eating and drinking beside the hollow black ship,
but I am going. A strong force is pushing me."
With that, I went up from the ship and the sea.
But when, as I went through the sacred valleys, I was about
to reach the great house of Circe, the one with many drugs,
Hermes of the golden wand met me there
as I walked toward the house, looking like a young man
with his first beard, the age when youth is most graceful.
He took my hand and spoke to me and used my name:
"Where are you going now, poor man, alone over the hills,
when you do not know this place? Your men are here in Circe's house,
penned up like pigs in tight pens.
Are you coming to set them free? I tell you,
you will not get back yourself. You will stay where the others are.
Come on then, I will free you from these troubles and save you.
Here, take this good drug and go to Circe's halls,
Go on, with this to keep the evil day away from your head.
I will tell you all the deadly tricks of Circe.
She will make you a potion and put drugs in your food.
But even so she will not be able to enchant you, for it will not let her,
the good drug that I will give you; and I will tell you each thing.
When Circe strikes at you with her long staff,
then draw the sharp sword from beside your thigh
and rush at Circe, as if you meant to kill her.
She, frightened of you, will ask you to lie with her.
Then do not refuse the bed of the goddess after that,
so that she may free your men and take care of you yourself.
But make her swear the great oath of the blessed gods
that she will not plan any other evil harm against you,
and will not make you weak and unmanned when you are stripped.
So he spoke, and the slayer of Argus gave me the drug,
pulling it out of the ground, and he showed me what it was like.
Its root was black, and its flower was like milk.
The gods call it moly; it is hard for mortal men
to dig it up, but the gods can do all things.
Then Hermes went off toward tall Olympus
across the wooded island, and I went to Circe's halls,
and my heart churned with many thoughts as I went.
I stood at the doors of the goddess with the lovely hair.
I stood there and shouted, and the goddess heard my voice.
She came out at once and opened the shining doors
and called me in. I followed her, grieving in my heart.
She brought me in and sat me in a chair studded with silver,
a beautiful chair, finely made, and there was a footstool under my feet.
She made me a potion in a golden cup for me to drink,
and she put a drug in it, thinking evil in her heart.
But when she gave it and I drank it, she did not enchant me.
She struck me with her staff and spoke and used my name:
"Go now to the pigsty and lie down with your other men."
So she spoke, and I drew the sharp sword from beside my thigh
and rushed at Circe as if I meant to kill her.
She screamed out loud and ducked away and grabbed my knees,
and with lamenting she spoke winged words to me:
"Who are you among men, and where are you from? Where are your city and your parents?
I am amazed that you drank these drugs and were not enchanted,
for no other man has ever stood up to these drugs,
whoever drinks them and lets them pass the fence of his teeth.
But in your breast there is a mind that cannot be charmed.
You must be Odysseus of many turns, whom the golden-wanded
slayer of Argus always used to say would come to me,
coming back from Troy with his swift black ship.
Come then, put your sword in its sheath, and then let the two of us
go up to my bed, so that joined together
in bed and in love we may trust each other."
So she spoke, and I answered her and said:
"Circe, how can you tell me to be gentle with you,
when you turned my men into pigs in your halls,
and now you keep me here and with deceit in your mind you tell me
to go into your room and get into your bed,
so that when I am stripped you can make me weak and unmanned.
I would not be willing to get into your bed,
unless you would dare, goddess, to swear a great oath to me
that you will not plan any other evil harm against me."
So I spoke, and she swore at once, just as I asked.
When she had sworn and finished the oath,
then I went up into the very beautiful bed of Circe.
Meanwhile her four serving women were busy in the halls,
who do the work throughout her house.
They are born from springs and from groves
and from sacred rivers that flow down to the sea.
One of them threw fine covers over the chairs,
purple ones on top, and underneath she spread linen cloth.
Another set silver tables out in front of the chairs,
and on them she put golden baskets.
A third mixed honey-sweet wine in a bowl,
sweet wine in a silver bowl, and handed out golden cups.
A fourth carried water and kindled a big fire
under a large tripod, and the water got warm.
When the water boiled in the gleaming copper,
she sat me in a bath and poured from the big tripod
over my head and shoulders, mixing it to my liking,
until she took the heart-destroying tiredness from my limbs.
When she had bathed me and rubbed me well with oil,
she threw a fine cloak and a tunic around me
and brought me in and sat me in a chair studded with silver,
a beautiful chair, finely made, and there was a footstool under my feet.
A serving woman brought a pitcher and poured water for my hands
from a fine golden pitcher into a silver basin,
for me to wash, and she set a polished table beside me.
The honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,
putting out a lot of food, giving freely of what she had.
She told me to eat, but my heart was not pleased.
Instead I sat there with my mind elsewhere, and my heart saw evil coming.
When Circe noticed that I was sitting there and not
putting my hands to the food, and that strong grief held me,
she came close and stood beside me and spoke winged words:
"Why, Odysseus, do you sit like that, just like a man with no voice,
eating your own heart, and you do not touch food or drink?
Do you think there is some other trick? You have no need
to be afraid, for I have already sworn a strong oath to you."
So she spoke, and I answered her and said:
"Circe, what man who was decent
would dare to taste food or drink
before he had freed his men and seen them with his own eyes?
But if you really tell me to drink and eat willingly,
free them, so that I can see my trusted men with my eyes."
So I spoke, and Circe had gone through the hall
holding the staff in her hand, and she opened the doors of the pigsty
and drove them out, looking like nine-year-old boars.
Then they stood in front of her, and she went along among them
and smeared each one with a different drug.
The hair fell off their limbs, the hair that the destructive drug
had grown on them before, the drug that the lady Circe gave them.
They turned back into men, younger than they had been before,
and much better looking and taller to see.
They knew me, and each one clung to my hands.
A lovely weeping came over all of them, and the house
rang terribly around them, and the goddess herself pitied them.
She came close and stood by me, the shining goddess, and said:
"Son of Laertes, born of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices,
go now to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.
First of all, drag the ship up onto land,
and put your goods and all your gear in the caves.
Then come back yourself and bring your trusted men."
So she spoke, and my proud heart obeyed her,
and I went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.
Then I found my trusted men at the swift ship
lamenting piteously and shedding abundant tears.
As when calves in the field come around the herd of cows
that have come into the yard, once they are full of grass,
they all skip together to meet them, and the pens no longer
hold them, but they run around their mothers
with shrill lowing; so those men, when they saw me with their eyes,
poured around me in tears, and their hearts felt
it was as if they had reached their homeland and the very city
of rugged Ithaca, where they were raised and born.
And with lamenting they spoke winged words to me:
"At your return, Zeus-nourished one, we rejoiced
as if we had come to our homeland, the land of Ithaca.
But come, tell us of the destruction of the other men."
So they spoke, and I answered them with gentle words:
"Let us first of all drag the ship up onto land,
and put our goods and all our gear in the caves.
Then all of you get moving and follow along with me,
so that you can see your men in the sacred halls of Circe
drinking and eating, for they have plenty."
So I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words.
But Eurylochus alone held back all the men.
He spoke and said to them winged words:
"You poor fools, where are we going? Why do you want these evils,
to go down into Circe's hall, who will turn you all
into pigs or wolves or lions,
so that we have to guard her great house by force,
just as the Cyclops did, when our men
came into his farmyard, and bold Odysseus went along with them.
Those men too died because of his recklessness."
So he spoke, and I thought it over in my heart,
whether to draw the long-edged sword from beside my thick thigh
and cut off his head and bring it to the ground,
even though he was a close relative by marriage. But my men
held me back from different sides with gentle words:
"Zeus-born one, let this man stay behind, if you say so,
here beside the ship, to guard the ship.
But lead us to the sacred halls of Circe."
So they spoke, and we went up from the ship and the sea.
Nor was Eurylochus left behind beside the hollow ship,
but he followed, because he feared my terrible rebuke.
Meanwhile Circe had kindly bathed the other men in her halls
and rubbed them well with oil,
and thrown thick cloaks and tunics around them.
We found them all feasting well in the halls.
When they saw each other face to face and recognized each other,
they cried and lamented, and the house groaned around them.
She came close and stood by me, the shining goddess, and said:
"Stop raising this abundant weeping now. I myself know
all the pains you suffered on the fish-filled sea,
and all the harm lawless men did you on land.
But come, eat your food and drink your wine,
until you get your spirit back in your chests,
the kind you had when you first left your homeland,
rugged Ithaca. But now you are worn out and spiritless,
always remembering your hard wandering, and your hearts
are never in gladness, because you have suffered so much."
So she spoke, and our proud hearts obeyed her.
There we sat all our days for a full year,
feasting on countless meats and sweet wine.
But when the year had passed and the seasons turned
as the months waned, and the long days were finished,
then my trusted men called me out and said:
"Strange man, remember your native land now,
if it is fated that you be saved and reach
your high-roofed house and your own native land."
So they spoke, and my proud heart obeyed.
So then the whole day long until the setting sun
we sat there, feasting on countless meats and sweet wine.
When the sun had set and darkness came on,
they lay down to sleep through the shadowy halls.
But I went up into the very beautiful bed of Circe
and clasped her knees in prayer, and the goddess heard my voice.
I spoke and said to her winged words:
"Circe, keep the promise you made to me,
to send me home. My heart is eager now,
and so are the hearts of the others, who are wasting my dear heart
with their lamenting around me, whenever you are away."
So I spoke, and she answered at once, the shining goddess:
"Son of Laertes, born of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices,
do not stay in my house against your will any longer.
But first you must complete another journey and reach
the halls of Hades and of dread Persephone,
to consult the spirit of the Theban Teiresias,
the blind seer, whose mind is still steady.
To him alone, even though he is dead, Persephone gave understanding,
that he alone be wise, while the others flit about as shadows."
So she spoke, and my dear heart broke inside me.
I sat on the bed and cried, and my heart
no longer wanted to live and see the light of the sun.
When I had had enough of crying and rolling around,
then I answered her and said:
"Circe, who will guide me on this journey?
No one has ever reached the house of Hades in a black ship."
So I spoke, and she answered at once, the shining goddess:
"Son of Laertes, born of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices,
do not let any longing for a guide trouble you beside the ship.
Set up your mast and spread your white sails
and sit still. The breath of the North Wind will carry it.
But when you have crossed the Ocean with your ship,
there is a low shore and the groves of Persephone,
and tall black poplars and willows that lose their fruit.
Beach your ship there on the deep-eddying Ocean,
and go yourself into the dank house of Hades.
There the Pyriphlegethon and the Cocytus flow into the Acheron,
and it is a branch of the water of Styx,
and there is a rock and the meeting place of the two roaring rivers.
There then, hero, drawing near, just as I tell you,
dig a pit about a cubit long each way,
and pour a libation around it for all the dead,
first with honey-mixed milk, then with sweet wine,
and the third with water. Sprinkle white barley on it.
Pray many times to the strengthless heads of the dead,
promising that when you come to Ithaca you will sacrifice a barren cow, the best one,
in your halls and fill a pyre with good things,
and to Teiresias alone, apart, sacrifice a sheep,
all black, one that stands out among your flocks.
When you have begged the glorious tribes of the dead with prayers,
then sacrifice a ram and a black ewe,
turning them toward Erebus, and turn away yourself,
looking toward the streams of the river. Then many
souls of the dead, of those who have died, will come.
Then urge your men and tell them
to take the sheep that lie there, slaughtered by the pitiless bronze,
flay them and burn them, and pray to the gods,
to mighty Hades and to dread Persephone.
But you yourself, drawing the sharp sword from beside your thigh,
sit still, and do not let the strengthless heads of the dead
come near the blood, before you have heard Teiresias.
There the seer will come to you at once, leader of the people,
and he will tell you the way and the measures of the journey,
and your return, how you will come over the fish-filled sea."
So she spoke, and golden-throned Dawn came at once.
She dressed me in a cloak and a tunic.
The nymph herself put on a great silver-shining robe,
fine and lovely, and she tied a belt around her waist,
a beautiful golden one, and set a veil on her head.
But I went through the halls and roused my men
with gentle words, standing beside each man:
"Do not lie there sleeping and enjoying sweet sleep any longer,
but let us go, for the lady Circe has told me what to do."
So I spoke, and their proud hearts obeyed.
But not even from there did I lead my men away unharmed.
There was a certain Elpenor, the youngest, not very
strong in war and not firm in his wits,
who, away from his men in the sacred halls of Circe,
longing for the cool air, had lain down heavy with wine.
When he heard the noise and tramp of the men moving,
he jumped up suddenly and forgot in his mind
to go back down by the long ladder,
but fell straight down from the roof, and his neck
was broken from his backbone, and his soul went down to Hades.
As they came, I spoke a word among them:
"You think, I suppose, that you are going home to your dear native land,
but Circe has marked out another journey for us,
to the halls of Hades and of dread Persephone,
to consult the spirit of the Theban Teiresias."
So I spoke, and their dear hearts broke inside them,
and they sat down right there and wailed and tore their hair.
But no profit came from their crying.
But when we were going to the swift ship and the shore of the sea,
grieving and shedding abundant tears,
meanwhile Circe had gone and tethered beside the black ship
a ram and a black ewe,
passing by lightly. Who could see a god with his eyes
going here or there, if the god does not wish it?

### Book 11

But when we had gone down to the ship and the sea,
we first dragged the ship into the bright salt water,
and set the mast in it and the sails in the black ship,
and we took the sheep and put them on board, and we ourselves
climbed aboard too, grieving, shedding a thick tear.
And behind us, for the ship with the dark-blue prow,
she sent a following wind that filled the sails, a good companion,
Circe of the lovely braids, a dread goddess with a human voice.
And we, after making fast each rope throughout the ship,
sat down; and the wind and the helmsman steered her.
All day long her sails were stretched as she traveled the sea,
and the sun went down and all the pathways grew shadowy.
And she came to the limits of deep-flowing Ocean.
There is the land and the city of the Cimmerian men,
wrapped in mist and cloud; never on them
does the shining sun look with his rays,
neither when he climbs up into the starry sky,
nor when he turns back again from the sky toward the earth,
but deadly night is spread out over those wretched mortals.
When we came there we beached the ship, and out we
took the sheep; and we ourselves again beside the stream of Ocean
went on, until we came to the place that Circe had shown.
There Perimedes and Eurylochus held
the victims; and I, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,
dug a pit a cubit long this way and that,
and around it I poured a drink-offering to all the dead,
first with honeyed milk, then afterwards with sweet wine,
and the third time with water; and I sprinkled white barley over it.
And I begged many times the strengthless heads of the dead,
promising that when I reached Ithaca I would sacrifice a barren cow, the best one,
in my halls, and fill a pyre with good things,
and to Tiresias, apart from the others, sacrifice a sheep, to him alone,
all black, one that stands out among my flocks.
But when with vows and prayers I had begged the tribes of the dead,
I took the sheep and cut their throats
over the pit, and the dark-clouded blood flowed; and there gathered
the souls of the dead who had died, up from Erebus.
Brides and unmarried young men and much-enduring old men,
and tender young girls with hearts of fresh grief,
and many wounded by bronze-tipped spears,
men killed in war, wearing blood-stained armor;
these swarmed in crowds around the pit, one from one side, one from another,
with a wondrous cry; and pale fear seized me.
Then I urged on my comrades and told them
to flay the sheep that lay there killed by the pitiless bronze,
and to burn them, and to pray to the gods,
to mighty Hades and to dread Persephone;
and I myself, drawing the sharp sword from beside my thigh,
sat still, and I did not let the strengthless heads of the dead
come closer to the blood, before I had asked Tiresias.
First came the soul of my comrade Elpenor;
for he had not yet been buried under the wide-pathed earth;
for we had left his body in Circe's hall,
unwept and unburied, since another task was pressing us.
I wept when I saw him and I pitied him in my heart,
and speaking to him I addressed him with winged words:
Elpenor, how did you come down under the misty darkness?
Did you come on foot faster than I did with the black ship?
So I spoke, and he groaned and answered me with a word:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,
the evil fate of a god ruined me, and the endless wine.
For I lay down in Circe's hall and did not think
to go back down by the long ladder,
but I fell straight down from the roof; and my neck
was broken off at the spine, and my soul went down to the house of Hades.
Now I beg you by those left behind, who are not here,
by your wife and your father, who raised you when you were small,
and by Telemachus, whom you left alone in the halls;
for I know that when you go from here, out of the house of Hades,
you will bring your well-built ship to the island of Aeaea;
there, then, my lord, I ask you to remember me.
Do not leave me unwept and unburied when you go away,
after you have left, in case I become some cause of the gods' anger,
but burn me with my armor, all that I have,
and heap up a mound for me on the shore of the gray sea,
of an unhappy man, to be known to men who come later.
Do this for me, and fix an oar on the tomb,
the oar with which I rowed while alive among my comrades.
So he spoke, and I answered him and said:
All this, unhappy man, I will carry out and do.
So we two sat exchanging hateful words,
I on one side holding the sword over the blood,
and on the other side the phantom of my comrade said many things.
Then came the soul of my mother, who had died,
Anticleia, daughter of great-hearted Autolycus,
whom I left alive when I set out for holy Ilium.
I wept when I saw her and I pitied her in my heart,
but even so I did not let her, though I grieved heavily,
come closer to the blood, before I had learned from Tiresias.
Then came the soul of the Theban Tiresias,
holding a golden staff, and he recognized me and spoke:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,
why now, unhappy man, having left the light of the sun,
have you come, to see the dead and this joyless place?
But draw back from the pit, and hold off your sharp sword,
so that I can drink the blood and tell you the truth.
So he spoke, and I drew back and thrust the silver-studded sword
into its sheath. And when he had drunk the dark blood,
then indeed the blameless prophet spoke to me with words:
You are seeking your honey-sweet homecoming, glorious Odysseus;
a god will make it hard for you; for I do not think
you will escape the Earthshaker, who has put anger in his heart
against you, angry because you blinded his dear son.
But even so you might still get home, though suffering evils,
if you are willing to hold back your own spirit and your comrades',
when you first bring your well-built ship
to the island Thrinacia, fleeing over the violet-dark sea,
and find grazing cattle and sturdy flocks
of Helios, who watches all things and hears all things.
If you leave them unharmed and think about your homecoming,
you may still reach Ithaca, though suffering evils;
but if you harm them, then I foretell destruction
for your ship and your comrades. And if you yourself escape,
you will get home late and badly, having lost all your comrades,
on a stranger's ship; and you will find troubles in your house,
overbearing men, who devour your livelihood,
courting your godlike wife and offering bridal gifts.
But you will certainly take revenge on their violence when you come.
And when you have killed the suitors in your halls,
either by trickery or openly with the sharp bronze,
then go, taking up a well-fitted oar,
until you come to men who do not know the sea,
men who do not eat food mixed with salt,
and who do not know ships with crimson cheeks,
nor well-fitted oars, which are wings to ships.
And I will tell you a sign, very clear, and it will not escape you:
when another traveler meeting you
says that you have a winnowing-fan on your shining shoulder,
then plant your well-fitted oar in the ground,
and make fair sacrifices to lord Poseidon,
a ram, a bull, and a boar that mounts the sows,
and go back home and perform holy hecatombs
to the immortal gods who hold the broad sky,
all of them in due order. And death will come to you from the sea,
a very gentle one, such as will kill you
worn out by sleek old age; and around you the people
will be blessed. And these things I tell you truly.
So he spoke, and I answered him and said:
Tiresias, the gods themselves have surely spun all this.
But come, tell me this and recount it exactly:
I see here the soul of my mother, who has died;
she sits in silence near the blood, and she has not dared
to look at her own son face to face or to speak to him.
Tell me, lord, how can she recognize me for what I am?
So I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:
Easy is the word I will speak, and I will put it in your mind.
Whichever one of the dead you allow
to come closer to the blood, that one will tell you the truth;
but whomever you refuse it to, that one will go back again.
So speaking, the soul of lord Tiresias went into the house of Hades,
when he had spoken his oracles;
but I stayed there and held my ground, until my mother
came and drank the dark-clouded blood; and at once she knew me,
and in grief she spoke to me with winged words:
My child, how have you come down under the misty darkness
while still alive? It is hard for the living to look on these things.
For in between are great rivers and dread streams,
Ocean first of all, which no one can cross
on foot, unless he has a well-built ship.
Have you come here wandering from Troy
with ship and comrades for a long time? Have you not yet come
to Ithaca, nor seen your wife in your halls?
So she spoke, and I answered her and said:
My mother, a need brought me down to the house of Hades,
to consult the soul of the Theban Tiresias;
for I have not yet come near Achaea, nor have I yet
set foot on my own land, but I wander always in misery,
ever since I first followed shining Agamemnon
to Ilium of good horses, to fight the Trojans.
But come, tell me this and recount it exactly:
what fate of long-drawn death subdued you?
Was it a lingering sickness, or did Artemis the arrow-pourer
come on you with her gentle arrows and kill you?
And tell me about my father and the son I left behind,
whether my honor still lies with them, or some other man
already holds it, and they say I will not come home.
And tell me the plan and the mind of my wife who is being courted,
whether she stays beside my son and keeps everything steady,
or has already married whichever of the Achaeans is best.
So I spoke, and my revered mother answered straightway:
Indeed that woman stays with an enduring heart
in your halls; and her wretched nights and days
always waste away as she sheds tears.
No one yet holds your fair honor, but at his ease
Telemachus farms the land and feasts at equal banquets,
such as it is fitting for a man who gives judgments to enjoy;
for all men invite him. But your father stays there
in the country, and does not come down to the city. Nor does he have
a bed, blankets, and shining rugs,
but in winter he sleeps where the servants sleep in the house,
in the dust close to the fire, and he wears sorry clothing on his body;
but when summer comes and the rich harvest-time,
everywhere along the slope of his vineyard ground
low beds of fallen leaves are spread for him.
There he lies grieving, and he greatly increases the sorrow in his heart,
longing for your return, and hard old age comes on him.
So I too perished and met my fate;
neither did the keen-sighted arrow-pourer come on me in my halls
with her gentle arrows and kill me,
nor did any sickness come on me, the kind that most of all
takes the spirit from the limbs with hateful wasting;
but my longing for you and your plans, glorious Odysseus,
and your gentle kindness took away my honey-sweet spirit.
So she spoke, and I wanted in my heart, as I thought it over,
to take the soul of my dead mother in my arms.
Three times I sprang toward her, and my heart urged me to hold her,
and three times she flew from my hands like a shadow or a dream.
And sharp grief grew in my heart all the more,
and speaking to her I addressed her with winged words:
My mother, why will you not wait for me, when I long to hold you,
so that both of us, throwing our arms around each other,
may take our joy in chilling lamentation in the house of Hades?
Or is this phantom sent by the glorious Persephone,
so that I may groan and mourn the more?
So I spoke, and my revered mother answered straightway:
Ah me, my child, most wretched of all mortals,
Persephone, the daughter of Zeus, is not deceiving you,
but this is the custom of mortals, whenever one dies;
for the sinews no longer hold flesh and bones together,
but the strong might of blazing fire subdues them,
as soon as the spirit first leaves the white bones,
and the soul, like a dream, flies off and flutters away.
But long for the light of day as fast as you can; and know all this,
so that you may tell it to your wife later on.
So we two exchanged words with each other, and the women came,
for the glorious Persephone urged them on,
all who were the wives and daughters of chieftains.
And they gathered in a crowd around the dark blood,
and I considered how I might question each one.
And this plan seemed best to my heart:
drawing my long-edged sword from beside my thick thigh,
I did not let them all drink the dark blood together.
And they came forward in order, and each one
declared her lineage; and I questioned them all.
There first I saw Tyro of the goodly father,
who said she was the offspring of blameless Salmoneus,
and said she was the wife of Cretheus, son of Aeolus;
she loved the divine river Enipeus,
which flows over the earth the fairest of all rivers,
and she used to roam along the fair streams of Enipeus.
And the Earthholder, the Earthshaker, making himself look like him,
lay beside her at the mouth of the whirling river;
and a purple wave stood around them, like a mountain,
arching over, and it hid the god and the mortal woman.
He untied her maiden girdle and poured sleep over her.
And when the god had finished the works of love,
he clasped her hand and spoke a word and called her by name:
Rejoice, woman, in this loving; and when the year comes round,
you will bear glorious children, since the beds of the immortals
are not unfruitful; but you must care for them and raise them.
But now go to your house, and keep silent and do not name me;
for I am Poseidon, the Earthshaker.
So saying, he plunged beneath the surging sea.
And she, conceiving, bore Pelias and Neleus,
who became mighty servants of great Zeus,
both of them; Pelias lived in spacious Iolcus,
rich in flocks, and the other in sandy Pylos.
And she bore the others to Cretheus, a queen among women,
Aeson and Pheres and Amythaon, who delighted in chariots.
And after her I saw Antiope, daughter of Asopus,
who claimed that she had lain in the arms of Zeus,
and she bore two sons, Amphion and Zethus,
who first founded the seat of seven-gated Thebes,
and walled it, since they could not
live in spacious Thebes without walls, strong as they were.
And after her I saw Alcmena, the wife of Amphitryon,
who bore Heracles, bold-spirited, lion-hearted,
having lain in the arms of great Zeus;
and Megara, daughter of overbearing Creon,
whom the son of Amphitryon married, his might never wearied.
And I saw the mother of Oedipus, the fair Epicaste,
who did a great deed in the ignorance of her mind,
marrying her own son; and he, having killed his father,
married her; and at once the gods made it known to men.
But he stayed in much-loved Thebes, ruling the Cadmeians
and suffering griefs, through the deadly plans of the gods;
and she went to the house of strong, gate-barring Hades,
having tied a high noose from the lofty beam,
overcome by her grief; and she left griefs behind for him,
very many, such as a mother's Furies bring about.
And I saw beautiful Chloris, whom once Neleus
married for her beauty, since he gave countless bridal gifts,
the youngest daughter of Amphion, son of Iasus,
who once ruled by force in Minyan Orchomenus;
and she was queen of Pylos, and bore him glorious children,
Nestor and Chromius and proud Periclymenus.
And besides these she bore sturdy Pero, a wonder to mortals,
whom all the neighboring men courted; but Neleus
would not give her to any man unless he drove off the spiral-horned, broad-browed cattle
from Phylace, the painful cattle of mighty Iphicles;
and the blameless prophet alone promised to drive them out;
but the hard fate of the god bound him fast,
and painful bonds, and the rustic herdsmen.
But when the months and the days were being fulfilled
as the year rolled round again and the seasons came on,
then the might of Iphicles released him,
when he had told all the oracles; and the will of Zeus was accomplished.
And I saw Leda, the wife of Tyndareus,
who bore to Tyndareus two stout-hearted sons,
Castor the horse-tamer and Polydeuces good at boxing,
whom the life-giving earth holds both of them alive;
they, even under the earth, having honor from Zeus,
live on alternate days, and at other times
are dead; and they have obtained honor equal to the gods.
And after her I saw Iphimedeia, wife of Aloeus,
who said that she had lain with Poseidon,
and she bore two sons, but they were short-lived,
godlike Otus and far-famed Ephialtes,
whom the grain-giving earth raised as the tallest
and by far the fairest, after famed Orion;
for at nine years old they were nine cubits
broad, and in height they grew to nine fathoms.
These two even threatened the immortal gods on Olympus
to stir up the din of much-roaring war;
they meant to pile Ossa on Olympus, and on Ossa
Pelion with its shaking leaves, so that the sky could be climbed.
And they would have done it, if they had reached the measure of youth;
but the son of Zeus, whom fair-haired Leto bore,
killed them both, before beneath their temples the down
bloomed and covered their cheeks with a fair-flowering beard.
And I saw Phaedra and Procris and the fair Ariadne,
the daughter of baleful-minded Minos, whom once Theseus
was leading from Crete to the hill of holy Athens,
but he did not enjoy her; for Artemis killed her first,
on sea-girt Dia, on the testimony of Dionysus.
And I saw Maera and Clymene and hateful Eriphyle,
who accepted precious gold for the life of her own husband.
But I could not tell of all of them or name them,
all the wives and the daughters of heroes that I saw;
for sooner would the immortal night fail. But it is also time
to sleep, either going to the swift ship to my comrades,
or here; and the sending home will be the care of the gods and of you.
So he spoke, and they all became silent in stillness,
and they were held by enchantment throughout the shadowy halls.
And among them white-armed Arete began the words:
Phaeacians, how does this man seem to you to be,
in form and height and in the good sense inside him?
He is my guest, and each of you has a share in the honor;
so do not send him off in haste, and do not
cut short the gifts for one who is so much in need; for many
possessions lie in your halls by the will of the gods.
And among them spoke the old hero Echeneus,
who was the eldest of the Phaeacian men:
Friends, the thoughtful queen does not speak
off the mark or against what we believe; so obey her.
But on Alcinoos here depends both deed and word.
And Alcinoos answered him again and spoke:
This word shall indeed be so, if I at least
rule as king, while alive, over the oar-loving Phaeacians;
but let the stranger endure, though he longs greatly for his homecoming,
to wait until tomorrow all the same, until I have made
all the gift-giving complete; and the sending home will be the care
of all men, but most of all of me; for the power in the district is mine.
And many-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Alcinoos, mighty lord, most renowned of all peoples,
even if you should tell me to stay here for a year,
and urge on my sending home and give me glorious gifts,
I would wish for that, and it would be far more profitable,
to come to my dear fatherland with a fuller hand;
and I would be more respected and dearer among all men,
all who might see me returned to Ithaca.
And Alcinoos answered him again and spoke:
Odysseus, we do not look at you and suppose
that you are a deceiver and a cheat, such as many
the black earth nourishes, scattered far and wide among men,
who fashion lies out of things no one could see;
but upon you there is a beauty of words, and inside you a good mind.
And you have recounted your tale skillfully, as a bard would,
the grievous sorrows of all the Argives and of yourself.
But come, tell me this and recount it exactly,
whether you saw any of your godlike comrades, who with you
followed to Ilium and there met their fate.
And this night is very long, immeasurably long; and it is not yet time
to sleep in the hall; but do you tell me the wondrous deeds.
And I could hold out until the bright dawn, if you
were willing to tell me your sorrows in the hall.
And many-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Alcinoos, mighty lord, most renowned of all peoples,
there is a time for many words, and a time also for sleep;
but if you are still eager to listen, I would not
refuse you this, but would tell other things more pitiable still,
the sorrows of my comrades, who perished afterwards,
who escaped the groaning battle-cry of the Trojans
and perished on the way home through the will of a wicked woman.
But when the holy Persephone had scattered the souls
of the tender women this way and that,
then came the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,
grieving; and around him the others gathered, all who with him
had died in the house of Aegisthus and met their fate.
And he knew me at once, when he had drunk the dark blood;
and he wept shrilly, shedding a thick tear,
stretching out his hands toward me, eager to touch me;
but there was no longer any steady strength in him, nor any vigor
such as there had been before in his supple limbs.
I wept when I saw him and I pitied him in my heart,
and speaking to him I addressed him with winged words:
Most glorious son of Atreus, lord of men Agamemnon,
what fate of long-drawn death subdued you?
Did Poseidon subdue you among your ships,
rousing a hateful blast of grievous winds?
Or did hostile men do you harm on land,
as you were cutting off cattle and fair flocks of sheep,
or fighting for a city and for its women?
So I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,
neither did Poseidon subdue me among the ships,
rousing a hateful blast of grievous winds,
nor did hostile men do me harm on land,
but Aegisthus, contriving death and doom for me,
killed me with the help of my accursed wife, calling me to his house,
feasting me, as one kills an ox at its manger.
So I died a most pitiable death; and around me the other comrades
were slaughtered without pause, like white-tusked boars,
in the hall of a rich man of great power,
at a wedding or a gathering or a lavish banquet.
You have already come upon the slaughter of many men,
killed one by one and in strong battle;
but you would have grieved most of all in your heart at that sight,
how around the mixing-bowl and the loaded tables
we lay in the hall, and the whole floor steamed with blood.
And most piteous of all I heard the voice of the daughter of Priam,
Cassandra, whom crafty Clytemnestra killed
over me, while I, raising my hands toward the ground,
struck them as I was dying around the sword; and the shameless woman
turned away, and she did not dare, though I was going to Hades,
to close my eyes with her hands or to press my mouth shut with hers.
So there is nothing more dreadful and more shameless than a woman,
one who lays such deeds in her mind;
such a shameful deed indeed that woman contrived,
planning murder for her wedded husband. And I thought
that I would come home welcome to my children and my servants;
but she, knowing exceeding wickedness,
poured out shame both on herself and on women to come
later on, even on her who does what is good.
So he spoke, and I answered him and said:
Alas, indeed Zeus the far-thundering has terribly hated
the race of Atreus, through the counsels of women,
from the beginning; for Helen's sake many of us perished,
and for you Clytemnestra contrived a snare while you were far away.
So I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:
Therefore never now be gentle with a woman, even so;
do not reveal to her every word that you know well,
but tell one part, and let the other stay hidden.
But it will not be from a woman that murder comes to you, Odysseus;
for the daughter of Icarius, the thoughtful Penelope,
is very prudent and knows good counsels in her mind.
We indeed left her a young bride
when we went to the war; and she had a child at her breast,
an infant, who now, I suppose, sits among the numbered men,
blessed; for his dear father will see him when he comes,
and he will embrace his father, as is right.
But my wife did not let me be filled with the sight of my son,
even with my eyes; before that she killed me too.
And I will tell you another thing, and do you put it in your mind:
secretly, and not openly, bring your ship
to your dear fatherland; for there is no longer trust in women.
But come, tell me this and recount it exactly,
whether you hear anywhere that my son is still alive,
either at Orchomenus or at sandy Pylos,
or somewhere by Menelaus in broad Sparta;
for godlike Orestes has not yet died on the earth.
So he spoke, and I answered him and said:
Son of Atreus, why do you ask me this? I do not know at all
whether he is alive or dead; and it is bad to babble empty words.
So we two stood exchanging hateful words,
grieving, shedding a thick tear;
and there came the soul of Achilles, son of Peleus,
and that of Patroclus and of blameless Antilochus
and of Ajax, who was the best in form and build
of the other Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus.
And the soul of the swift-footed descendant of Aeacus knew me,
and in grief he addressed me with winged words:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,
reckless man, what greater deed will you yet devise in your mind?
How did you dare to come down to the house of Hades, where the dead
dwell without sense, the phantoms of mortals who have died?
So he spoke, and I answered him and said:
Achilles, son of Peleus, by far the greatest of the Achaeans,
I came for the need of Tiresias, in the hope that he might tell
some counsel, how I might reach rugged Ithaca;
for I have not yet come near Achaea, nor have I yet
set foot on my own land, but I always have troubles. But than you, Achilles,
no man was ever more blessed before, nor shall be hereafter.
For before, while you were alive, we honored you like the gods,
we Argives, and now again you hold great power among the dead
while you are here; so do not grieve at all at having died, Achilles.
So I spoke, and he answered me straightway and said:
Do not comfort me about death, glorious Odysseus.
I would rather be a hired laborer, serving another man,
a man with no portion of land, who has but little to live on,
than to be king over all the dead who have perished.
But come, tell me news of my glorious son,
whether he followed to the war to be a champion, or not.
And tell me about blameless Peleus, if you have heard anything,
whether he still holds honor among the many Myrmidons,
or do they dishonor him throughout Hellas and Phthia,
because old age holds his hands and his feet.
For I am no defender under the beams of the sun,
such as I once was in broad Troy,
when I killed the best of the host, defending the Argives;
if I could come as such a one, even for a moment, to my father's house,
then I would make my might and my resistless hands hateful
to those who do him violence and drive him from his honor.
So he spoke, and I answered him and said:
Indeed I have heard nothing of blameless Peleus,
but of your dear son Neoptolemus I will tell you
the whole truth, as you bid me;
for I myself brought him from Scyrus in a hollow, well-balanced ship,
to the well-greaved Achaeans.
Indeed, when we were considering counsels around the city of Troy,
he was always the first to speak and he did not miss the mark in words;
only godlike Nestor and I surpassed him.
But when we fought with bronze on the Trojan plain,
he never stayed back in the throng of men or in the crowd,
but he ran far ahead, yielding to no one in his might,
and he killed many men in the dread battle-strife.
But I could not tell of all of them or name them,
how many of the host he killed defending the Argives,
but only how he slew with the bronze the son of Telephus,
the hero Eurypylus, and around him many comrades
of the Cetians were killed for the sake of women's gifts.
Him I saw as the fairest, after godlike Memnon.
And when we went down into the horse that Epeius built,
the best of the Argives, and everything was assigned to me,
both to open the close ambush and to shut it,
there the other leaders and counselors of the Danaans
were wiping away tears and the limbs of each man trembled;
but him I never saw at all with my eyes
either growing pale in his fair skin or wiping
a tear from his cheeks; but he begged greatly
to be let out of the horse, and he kept feeling for the hilt of his sword
and his bronze-heavy spear, and he planned evil for the Trojans.
But when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,
he went aboard the ship holding his share and his fine prize
unharmed, neither struck by the sharp bronze
nor wounded in close combat, such wounds as often
happen in war; for Ares rages confusedly.
So I spoke, and the soul of the swift-footed descendant of Aeacus
went with long strides across the field of asphodel,
rejoicing that I had told him his son was renowned.
And the other souls of the dead who had died
stood grieving, and each one asked about her own sorrows.
But the soul of Ajax, son of Telamon, alone
stood apart, angry because of the victory
that I had won over him in the judgment beside the ships
over the armor of Achilles; and his revered mother had set it out.
And the sons of the Trojans judged, and Pallas Athena.
How I wish I had not won in such a contest!
For such a head as his did the earth cover because of that armor,
Ajax, who in form and in deeds was fashioned above
the other Danaans, after the blameless son of Peleus.
And I addressed him with gentle words:
Ajax, son of blameless Telamon, were you not going
even in death to forget your anger against me because of the armor,
that accursed armor? The gods made it a woe for the Argives,
for such a tower as you were, you perished for them; and we Achaeans
grieve for you forever as much as for the head of Achilles, son of Peleus;
and no one else
is to blame, but Zeus terribly hated the host of spear-bearing Danaans,
and laid a fate upon you.
But come here, lord, so that you may hear our word and speech;
and subdue your might and your proud spirit.
So I spoke, and he answered me nothing, but went off after the other
souls of the dead who had died, into Erebus.
There, even though angry, he would have spoken to me, or I to him;
but my heart in my dear breast wished
to see the souls of the other dead.
There indeed I saw Minos, the glorious son of Zeus,
holding a golden staff, giving judgment to the dead,
seated, and they asked him, their lord, for judgments,
sitting and standing throughout the wide-gated house of Hades.
And after him I noticed huge Orion
driving the wild beasts together across the field of asphodel,
the very beasts he had killed in the lonely mountains,
holding in his hands a club of solid bronze, forever unbroken.
And I saw Tityus, son of the far-famed Earth,
lying on the ground; and he lay over nine acres of land,
and two vultures, sitting on either side of him, tore at his liver,
dipping into the fat, and he did not fend them off with his hands;
for he had dragged off Leto, the glorious wife of Zeus,
as she was going to Pytho through beautiful Panopeus.
And indeed I saw Tantalus, having great agony,
standing in a pool; and the water came near his chin;
he seemed to be thirsty, but he could not take and drink;
for as often as the old man bent down, eager to drink,
so often the water was swallowed down and vanished, and at his feet
the black earth showed, and a god withered him away.
And trees with high-fluttering leaves poured down fruit from the top,
pear trees and pomegranates and apple trees with shining fruit,
sweet figs and luxuriant olives;
and whenever the old man reached out with his hands to grasp them,
the wind tossed them up toward the shadowy clouds.
And indeed I saw Sisyphus, having great agony,
lifting a huge stone with both hands.
He would brace himself with hands and feet together
and push the stone upward toward the hill; but whenever he was about
to thrust it over the top, then its power turned it back,
and again the shameless stone rolled down to the plain.
But he strained and pushed it up, and the sweat poured
from his limbs, and dust rose from his head.
And after him I noticed the might of Heracles,
a phantom; but he himself among the immortal gods
delights in feasting and holds fair-ankled Hebe,
the daughter of great Zeus and of Hera of the golden sandals.
And around him was a clamor of the dead, like birds,
scattering in panic on every side; and he, like the dark night,
holding his bare bow and an arrow on the string,
glaring terribly, seeming always about to shoot.
And dread across his chest was his sword-belt,
a golden strap, in which wondrous works were fashioned,
bears and wild boars and lions with shining eyes,
battles and fights and slaughters and killings of men.
May the one who made it by his craft never make another thing,
whoever placed that belt into his skill.
And he knew me again, when he saw me with his eyes,
and in grief he addressed me with winged words:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, many-devising Odysseus,
ah, poor man, are you too leading some evil doom,
the kind I once endured under the beams of the sun?
I was a son of Zeus, son of Cronos, yet I had
boundless misery; for I was enslaved to a far worse man,
and he laid cruel labors on me.
And once he sent me here to bring away the dog; for he thought
there was no other labor more powerful than this for me;
and I brought him up and led him out of the house of Hades,
and Hermes sent me on, and bright-eyed Athena.
So saying, he went back again into the house of Hades,
but I stayed there and held my ground, in case anyone else should come
of the heroic men, who had perished in former times.
And I might have seen yet more men of former days, whom I wanted,
Theseus and Peirithous, glorious children of the gods;
but before that, countless tribes of the dead gathered,
with a wondrous cry; and pale fear seized me,
in case the revered Persephone send against me from the house of Hades
the Gorgon's head of that dread monster.
Then straightway I went to the ship and told my comrades
both to embark themselves and to loose the stern-cables.
And they embarked quickly and sat down at the rowing-benches.
And the wave of the river carried the ship down along Ocean,
first with rowing, and afterwards with a fair following wind.

### Book 12

But when the ship had left the stream of the river Oceanus
and had reached the swell of the broad sea,
and the island Aeaea, where the house and the dancing places
of early-born Dawn are, and the risings of the Sun,
we came there and beached the ship on the sand,
and we ourselves stepped out onto the breaking surf of the sea;
and there we lay down and slept and waited for bright Dawn.
When early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then I sent my men to Circe's house
to bring the body of the dead Elpenor.
We quickly cut wood where the headland jutted out highest,
and buried him in grief, shedding a big warm tear.
When the dead man and the dead man's armour had been burned,
and we had piled up a mound and set up a gravestone,
we planted his well-shaped oar on top of the mound.
We took care of each thing; and Circe did not fail to notice us,
since we had come back from Hades, but very quickly
she came, dressed and ready; and her maids brought with her
bread and plenty of meat and red, sparkling wine.
She stood among us and spoke, the shining goddess among goddesses:
Wretched men, you who went down alive into the house of Hades,
dying twice, when other men die only once.
Come now, eat food and drink wine
here all day long; and when Dawn appears
you will sail; and I will show you the way and I will explain
everything, so that you do not suffer harm
on the sea or on land from painful, evil plotting.
So she spoke, and our proud spirit was persuaded again.
So then all day long, until the sun went down,
we sat feasting on endless meat and sweet wine.
When the sun had set and darkness came,
they lay down to sleep by the ship's stern-cables,
but she took me by the hand and led me away from my dear men,
and sat me down and lay beside me and asked me about everything;
and I told her everything in the right order.
And then the lady Circe spoke to me and said:
All of this has now been carried through; but you listen,
as I will tell you, and a god himself will remind you of it.
First you will come to the Sirens, who beguile every
man who comes to them.
Whoever draws near in ignorance and hears the voice
of the Sirens, for him neither his wife nor his little children
stand beside him when he returns home, nor do they welcome him with joy,
but the Sirens beguile him with their clear-sounding song,
as they sit in a meadow, and around them a great heap of bones
of men who have rotted away, and the skin shrivels on them.
But drive past them, and stop the ears of your men
with honey-sweet wax that you have kneaded, so that none of the others
hears; but if you yourself want to hear,
let them tie you in the swift ship, both hands and feet,
upright against the mast-step, and let the ropes be fastened to it,
so that you may hear the voice of the two Sirens and enjoy it.
And if you beg your men and order them to untie you,
then let them tie you with even more ropes.
But once your men have driven past them,
then I will no longer tell you plainly
which of the two routes will be yours, but you yourself
must decide it in your heart; and I will tell you about both.
On one side are overhanging rocks, and against them
a great wave roars, the wave of dark-faced Amphitrite;
these the blessed gods call the Wandering Rocks.
Past that way not even winged creatures go, nor doves,
the timid ones, that carry ambrosia to father Zeus,
but even of these the smooth rock always takes one away;
yet the father puts another in, so the number stays complete.
Past that way no ship of men has ever escaped, whichever one arrives,
but the waves of the sea and the blasts of deadly fire
sweep away together the ship's planks and the bodies of men.
Only one sea-going ship has ever sailed past it,
the Argo, dear to everyone, sailing home from Aeetes.
And even it would quickly have been thrown against the great rocks,
but Hera guided it past, because Jason was dear to her.
There are two cliffs; one of them reaches the broad sky
with its sharp peak, and a cloud surrounds it,
dark blue; and that never clears, nor does clear weather
ever hold that peak, neither in summer nor in harvest time.
Nor could a mortal man climb it or stand on it,
not even if he had twenty hands and twenty feet;
for the rock is smooth, like something polished.
And in the middle of the cliff there is a misty cave,
turned toward the west, toward Erebus, and that is where you,
shining Odysseus, would steer your hollow ship.
Nor from the hollow ship could a strong man
shoot an arrow and reach the hollow cave.
And inside it lives Scylla, barking horribly.
Her voice is exactly like that of a newborn puppy,
but she herself is a wicked monster; and no one
would be glad to see her, not even if a god met her.
She has twelve feet, all of them deformed,
and six necks, very long, and on each one
a dreadful head, and in each head three rows of teeth
packed close and crowded, full of black death.
She is sunk down in the middle of the hollow cave,
but she sticks her heads out from the dreadful pit,
and fishes there, hungrily eyeing the rock all around,
for dolphins and for dogs, and if she catches something bigger,
a sea-monster, such as groaning Amphitrite feeds in countless numbers.
No sailors ever yet boast
that they have escaped her with their ship; instead she carries off with each head
a man, snatching him out of the dark-prowed ship.
The other cliff, Odysseus, you will see is lower.
They are close to each other; you could shoot an arrow across.
On it there is a great wild fig tree, thick with leaves;
beneath it divine Charybdis sucks down the black water.
Three times a day she spews it up, and three times she sucks it down
horribly; may you never be there when she sucks it down;
for not even the earth-shaker could pull you out of that evil.
Instead, stay close against Scylla's cliff and drive the ship
past quickly, since it is far better
to mourn six men in the ship than to lose them all together.
So she spoke, and I answered her and said:
Come then, goddess, tell me this truthfully,
whether I might somehow escape deadly Charybdis,
and fight her off when she harms my men.
So I spoke, and she answered me at once, the shining goddess among goddesses:
Wretched man, so now you have war and hardship
on your mind again; will you not give way even to the immortal gods?
She is not mortal, but an immortal evil,
dreadful and hard and savage and not to be fought;
there is no defence against her; the best thing is to run from her.
For if you linger there arming yourself beside the rock,
I am afraid that she may rush out at you again and catch you
with that many heads, and take that many men.
Instead drive on very hard, and call on Crataiis,
the mother of Scylla, who bore her as a plague for mortals;
she will then stop her from rushing out again afterward.
And you will come to the island Thrinacia; there many
cattle of the Sun graze, and fat sheep,
seven herds of cattle, and as many fine flocks of sheep,
fifty in each. No young are born to them,
and they never die off. Goddesses are their shepherds,
nymphs with lovely braids, Phaethusa and Lampetie,
whom divine Neaera bore to the Sun Hyperion.
The lady mother, having raised them and borne them,
settled them on the island Thrinacia, to live far away,
to guard their father's sheep and the curving-horned cattle.
If you leave them unharmed and think about your homecoming,
then you might still reach Ithaca, though you suffer troubles;
but if you harm them, then I foretell destruction for you,
for your ship and your men; and even if you yourself escape,
you will come home late and miserably, having lost all your men.
So she spoke, and straightway golden-throned Dawn came.
Then the shining goddess among goddesses went off across the island;
but I went to the ship and roused my men
to get aboard themselves and untie the stern-cables.
They boarded quickly and sat down at the rowing benches.
Sitting in rows they struck the grey sea with their oars.
And behind us, from the dark-prowed ship,
fair Circe of the lovely braids, a dangerous goddess with a human voice,
sent a following wind, filling the sails, a good companion.
At once we got everything ready throughout the ship
and sat down; and the wind and the helmsman steered her.
Then I spoke among my men, grieving at heart:
Friends, it is not right that only one or two should know
the prophecies that Circe told me, the shining goddess among goddesses;
but I will tell you, so that knowing them we may either die
or avoid death and escape destruction.
First she told us to avoid the voice of the wondrous Sirens
and their flowering meadow.
Only me she told to hear their voice; but you must tie me
in a painful bond, so that I stay fixed there,
upright against the mast-step, and let the ropes be fastened to it.
And if I beg you and order you to untie me,
then you must press me down with even more ropes.
So I told my men everything, making it clear;
and meanwhile the well-built ship came quickly
to the island of the two Sirens; for a harmless fair wind drove it on.
At once then the wind stopped, and there was
a windless calm, and a god put the waves to sleep.
My men rose and furled the ship's sails
and put them in the hollow ship, and sitting at the oars
they whitened the water with their polished pine blades.
But I cut a big wheel of wax with sharp bronze
into little pieces, and pressed it with my strong hands;
and the wax quickly melted, since the great force compelled it,
and the ray of the Sun, the son of the lord Hyperion.
And one after another I smeared it on the ears of all my men.
And they tied me in the ship, both hands and feet together,
upright against the mast-step, and fastened the ropes to it;
and they themselves sat and struck the grey sea with their oars.
But when we were as far away as a shout can carry,
as we sped quickly, the swift-sailing ship did not escape their notice
as it came near, and they prepared their clear-sounding song:
Come here, come, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans,
stop your ship, so that you may hear our voice.
For no one has ever rowed past this place in his black ship
before hearing the honey-sweet voice from our mouths,
but he goes on, delighted, and knowing more than before.
For we know everything that in wide Troy
the Argives and the Trojans suffered by the will of the gods,
and we know everything that happens on the bountiful earth.
So they spoke, sending out their lovely voice; and my heart
wanted to listen, and I ordered my men to untie me,
nodding with my eyebrows; but they rowed on even harder.
At once Perimedes and Eurylochus rose
and tied me with more ropes and pressed me harder.
But when they had passed them by, and after that no longer
did we hear the voice of the Sirens or their song,
at once my trusty men took off the wax
that I had smeared on their ears, and untied me from my ropes.
But when we had left the island, at once after that
I saw smoke and a great wave and heard a thundering noise.
And in their fear the oars flew out of their hands,
and they all clattered along the current; and the ship stopped right there,
because they no longer drove the sharp oars with their hands.
But I went through the ship and roused my men
with gentle words, standing beside each man:
Friends, we are not inexperienced in troubles yet;
surely this is no greater evil than when the Cyclops
penned us in his hollow cave with his brute strength;
but even from there, by my courage and planning and sense,
we escaped, and I think we will remember these things too.
But come now, let us all do as I say.
You, strike the deep surf of the sea with your oars,
sitting at the benches, in case somehow Zeus
grants us to escape and get away from this destruction;
and to you, helmsman, I give this order; keep it
in mind, since you handle the steering-oars of the hollow ship.
Keep the ship clear of this smoke and wave,
and keep close to the cliff, in case she slips past your notice
and dashes off that way and throws us into trouble.
So I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words.
But I did not speak of Scylla, a hopeless trouble,
in case my men, frightened, might stop
rowing and crowd together inside the ship.
And then I forgot the painful command of Circe,
since she had not told me at all to arm myself.
But I put on my glorious armour and took two spears
in my hands, long ones, and went up onto the ship's deck
at the prow; for I expected that she would appear there first,
Scylla of the rocks, who brought trouble to my men.
But I could not see her anywhere, and my eyes grew tired
as I stared in every direction toward the misty rock.
We rowed up the narrow strait groaning;
on one side Scylla, on the other divine Charybdis
terribly sucked down the salt water of the sea.
When she vomited it up, like a cauldron on a big fire
she boiled and seethed all over, and the spray up high
fell on both the topmost cliffs;
but when she swallowed the salt water of the sea down again,
she looked all seething inside, and around the rock
it roared horribly, and underneath the ground showed
black with sand; and pale fear seized them.
We looked at her, afraid of destruction;
and meanwhile Scylla snatched six of my men out of the hollow ship,
the best of them all with their hands and their strength.
When I looked toward the swift ship and among my men,
I already saw the feet and the hands of those men
being lifted up high; and they called out to me,
calling me by name, for the last time, grieving at heart.
As when a fisherman on a jutting rock with a very long rod
casts a bait for the little fish, a trick of food,
and sends the horn of a grazing ox into the sea,
and then catches one flopping and throws it out,
so those men were lifted up flopping toward the rocks;
and there at the mouth of the cave she ate them as they screamed,
stretching out their hands to me in that terrible fight;
that was the most pitiful sight my eyes ever saw
of all the hardships I suffered, searching out the sea routes.
But when we had escaped the rocks and dreadful Charybdis
and Scylla, at once after that we came to the flawless island
of the god; and there were fine broad-browed cattle,
and many fat sheep of Hyperion the Sun.
Then, while I was still out on the sea in the black ship,
I heard the lowing of the cattle as they were stalled
and the bleating of sheep; and a saying came into my heart
from the blind prophet, Teiresias of Thebes,
and from Circe of Aeaea, who had told me many things,
to avoid the island of the Sun who delights mortals.
Then I spoke among my men, grieving at heart:
Listen to my words, men, even though you are suffering troubles,
so that I can tell you the prophecies of Teiresias
and of Circe of Aeaea, who told me many things,
to avoid the island of the Sun who delights mortals;
for she said that there would be the most terrible evil for us.
But drive the black ship past the island.
So I spoke, and their dear hearts broke inside them.
At once Eurylochus answered me with a hateful word:
You are hard, Odysseus; there is great force in you, and your limbs
never get tired; surely you are made all of iron,
you who do not let your men, worn out with toil and with sleep,
set foot on land, where we could once more
make a pleasant supper on the island ringed by sea,
but you tell us to wander like this through the swift night,
driven off from the island, on the misty sea.
At night the winds turn hard, the ruin of ships;
how could anyone escape sheer destruction,
if suddenly a squall of wind comes,
from the South or from the harsh West, which most of all
tear a ship apart, against the will of the gods who rule?
But come now, let us obey the black night,
and get supper ready, staying by the swift ship,
and at dawn we will board and put out into the broad sea.
So spoke Eurylochus, and the other men agreed.
And then I understood that the god was planning evil;
and I spoke to him and addressed him with winged words:
Eurylochus, you are really forcing me hard, when I am only one man.
But come now, all of you swear me a strong oath:
if we find any herd of cattle or a big flock of sheep,
let no one in wicked recklessness
kill a cow or any sheep; but quietly
eat the food that immortal Circe gave us.
So I spoke, and they swore at once as I told them.
But when they had sworn and finished the oath,
we moored the well-built ship in the hollow harbour
near the sweet water, and the men stepped out
of the ship, and then they got supper ready skillfully.
But when they had put away their desire for drink and food,
then they remembered and wept for their dear men,
whom Scylla had eaten, snatching them from the hollow ship;
and as they wept, sweet sleep came over them.
But when it was the third part of the night, and the stars had passed,
Zeus the cloud-gatherer roused a violent wind against us
with a wondrous squall, and covered with clouds
the land and the sea together; and night rushed down from the sky.
But when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
we moored the ship, dragging it into a hollow cave.
And there were fine dancing places of the nymphs and seats;
and then I held an assembly and spoke among them:
Friends, in the swift ship there is food and drink,
so let us keep away from the cattle, in case we suffer harm;
for these cattle and fat sheep belong to a dreadful god,
the Sun, who sees everything and hears everything.
So I spoke, and their proud spirit was persuaded.
And for a whole month the South Wind blew without stopping, and no other
wind came after that except the East Wind and the South Wind.
As long as they had grain and red wine,
so long they kept away from the cattle, wanting to live.
But when all the ship's provisions were gone,
then they went around hunting out of necessity,
for fish and birds, whatever came to their hands,
with curved hooks, and hunger tormented their bellies;
then I went off across the island, so that I might pray
to the gods, in case someone would show me the way home.
But when I had gone through the island and got away from my men,
I washed my hands, in a place sheltered from the wind,
and prayed to all the gods who hold Olympus;
and they poured sweet sleep over my eyelids.
But Eurylochus began to give my men evil advice:
Listen to my words, men, even though you are suffering troubles.
All deaths are hateful to wretched mortals,
but the most pitiful is to die of hunger and meet that fate.
But come, let us drive off the best of the Sun's cattle
and sacrifice to the immortals who hold the broad sky.
And if we reach Ithaca, our own land,
we will quickly build a rich temple for the Sun Hyperion,
and in it we will put many fine offerings.
And if, angry about the straight-horned cattle,
he wants to destroy the ship, and the other gods go along with him,
I would rather lose my life at once, gulping down the wave,
than waste away for a long time on a deserted island.
So spoke Eurylochus, and the other men agreed.
At once they drove off the best of the Sun's cattle
from close by, for not far from the dark-prowed ship
the fine, curving, broad-browed cattle were grazing;
and they stood around them and prayed to the gods,
plucking tender leaves from a tall-leafed oak;
for they had no white barley on the well-benched ship.
But when they had prayed and slaughtered and skinned them,
they cut out the thigh-bones and covered them with fat,
making a double layer, and laid raw pieces on top.
They had no wine to pour on the burning offerings,
but they poured water and roasted all the innards.
But when the thighs were burned and they had tasted the innards,
they chopped up the rest and put it on spits.
And then sweet sleep rushed from my eyelids,
and I went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea.
But when I came near the curved ship,
then the sweet smell of the fat wrapped around me.
I groaned and cried out loud to the immortal gods:
Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,
surely you put me to sleep into ruin with a pitiless sleep.
And my men who stayed behind planned a great deed.
And swift-footed Lampetie of the long robe came as a messenger
to the Sun Hyperion, that we had killed his cattle.
And at once, angry at heart, he spoke among the immortals:
Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,
take vengeance on the men of Odysseus, son of Laertes,
who killed my cattle in their arrogance, cattle that I
took joy in as I went up into the starry sky,
and when I turned back again to the earth from the sky.
And if they do not pay me a fair price for the cattle,
I will go down into Hades and shine among the dead.
And Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him and said:
Sun, you shine indeed among the immortals
and among mortal men on the grain-giving earth;
but I will quickly strike their swift ship with a bright thunderbolt
and smash it into little pieces in the middle of the wine-dark sea.
And I heard this from fair-haired Calypso;
and she said she herself had heard it from Hermes the guide.
But when I came down to the ship and the sea,
I scolded one man after another, standing beside each, but we could
find no way out, and the cattle were already dead.
And at once the gods showed them signs:
the hides crawled, and the meat on the spits bellowed,
both roasted and raw, and a voice came out like that of cattle.
For six days then my trusty men
feasted on the best of the Sun's cattle that they had driven off;
but when Zeus the son of Cronos brought the seventh day,
then the wind stopped, blowing in a squall,
and we quickly went aboard and put out into the broad sea,
setting up the mast and hoisting the white sails.
But when we had left the island, and no other
land appeared, but only sky and sea,
then the son of Cronos set a dark cloud
above the hollow ship, and the sea grew dark beneath it.
And she ran on for no long time; for quickly came
the West Wind screaming, blowing with a great squall,
and the blast of the wind snapped both forestays of the mast;
and the mast fell backward, and all the gear
poured down into the bilge. And it struck the head
of the helmsman at the stern of the ship, and smashed all
the bones of his head together; and he, like a diver,
fell down from the deck, and his proud spirit left his bones.
And Zeus thundered at the same time and hurled a thunderbolt at the ship;
and she was shaken all over, struck by the bolt of Zeus,
and filled with sulphur, and my men fell from the ship.
And they, like sea-crows, around the black ship
were carried by the waves, and the god took away their homecoming.
But I went up and down through the ship, until the surge
loosed the sides from the keel, and the wave carried her stripped bare,
and it snapped the mast off at the keel. And on it
a back-stay had been thrown, made of ox-hide;
with this I bound both together, the keel and the mast,
and sitting on them I was carried by the deadly winds.
Then indeed the West Wind stopped, blowing in a squall,
and the South Wind came quickly, bringing grief to my heart,
so that I might measure out deadly Charybdis again.
All night long I was carried, and at the rising of the sun
I came to the rock of Scylla and to dreadful Charybdis.
She was sucking down the salt water of the sea;
but I, lifted up high toward the great fig tree,
clung to it and held on, like a bat. But I had nowhere
to plant my feet firmly or to stand on;
for the roots were far below, and the branches hung high,
long and great, and they overshadowed Charybdis.
I held on without letting go, until she should vomit up again
the mast and the keel; and, though I longed for them, they came
late; but at the hour when a man gets up from the assembly for supper,
judging many quarrels of young men who are arguing their cases,
at that hour the timbers of Charybdis appeared.
I let my feet and hands go to fall down from above,
and dropped with a thud in the middle, beside the long timbers,
and sitting on them I rowed with my hands.
But Scylla the father of men and gods did not let me
see her again; for I would not have escaped sheer destruction.
From there I was carried for nine days, and on the tenth night
the gods brought me to the island Ogygia, where Calypso
lives, fair-haired, a dreadful goddess with a human voice,
who loved me and cared for me. Why do I tell you these things?
For I already told them to you yesterday in your house,
to you and to your strong wife; and I hate
to tell again a story that has been clearly told.

### Book 13

So he spoke, and all of them fell silent and said nothing,
held spellbound through the shadowy hall.
Then Alcinous answered him and said:
Odysseus, since you have come to my house with its bronze threshold,
high-roofed, I do not think you will be turned back again
and fail to get home, even though you have suffered a great deal.
To each one of you I say this, wanting you to hear it,
all you who in my halls always drink the bright wine of the elders
and listen to the singer.
The clothes for the guest are lying in the well-polished chest,
and the intricately worked gold, and all the other
gifts that the Phaeacian counsellors brought here.
But come, let us each give him a large tripod and a cauldron,
one man at a time; and we in turn, collecting from the district,
will be repaid; for it is hard for one man to give a gift for nothing.
So spoke Alcinous, and his words pleased them.
They went each to his own house to lie down and sleep,
and when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
they hurried to the ship, and carried the bronze that gives men strength.
And the sacred strength of Alcinous stowed it all well,
going himself through the ship under the benches, so that none of the crew
would be hurt as they rowed, when they hurried at the oars.
They went to Alcinous' house and prepared the feast.
And the sacred strength of Alcinous sacrificed a bull for them
to Zeus the dark-clouded, son of Cronus, who rules over all.
When they had burned the thigh bones they feasted on a glorious meal,
taking their pleasure; and among them sang the divine singer,
Demodocus, honoured by the people. But Odysseus
kept turning his head often toward the all-shining sun,
eager for it to set, for he was longing to be gone.
As when a man longs for his dinner, for whom all day long
his wine-dark oxen have dragged the jointed plough through the fallow field,
and gladly for him the light of the sun goes down,
so that he can go to his dinner, and his knees give out as he walks,
so welcome to Odysseus was the setting light of the sun.
At once he spoke to the oar-loving Phaeacians,
and above all, making it clear to Alcinous, he spoke his words:
Alcinous, lord, most distinguished of all peoples,
send me on my way with a libation, unharmed, and may you yourselves be well.
For all that my dear heart wanted has now been accomplished,
escort and dear gifts; may the gods in heaven
make them a blessing; and may I find at home a blameless wife
when I return, with my dear ones safe and sound.
And may you, staying here, give joy to your wedded wives
and children; and may the gods grant you every kind of excellence,
and may no evil come upon your people.
So he spoke, and they all praised him and urged
that the stranger be sent on his way, since he had spoken as he should.
And then the sacred strength of Alcinous said to the herald:
Pontonous, mix the bowl and serve the honey-sweet wine
to everyone throughout the hall, so that when we have prayed to father Zeus
we may send the stranger to his own native land.
So he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine,
and served it to everyone, standing by each in turn; and they poured libations to the blessed gods
who hold the wide heaven,
from where they sat. And godlike Odysseus stood up,
and put into Arete's hand a two-handled cup,
and speaking he addressed her with winged words:
Farewell to me, O queen, forever, until old age
and death come, which are the lot of human beings.
But I am going home; and may you take delight in this house
with your children and your people and Alcinous the king.
So saying, godlike Odysseus stepped over the threshold,
and with him the sacred strength of Alcinous sent the herald
to lead the way to the swift ship and the shore of the sea;
and Arete sent her handmaid women along with him,
one carrying a well-washed cloak and a tunic,
and to another she gave a tightly packed chest to carry along;
and a third brought bread and red wine.
But when they had come down to the ship and the sea,
at once the noble escorts in the hollow ship
received them and stowed them, all the drink and all the food;
and they spread for Odysseus a rug and a linen sheet
on the deck planks of the hollow ship, so that he might sleep a sleep without waking,
at the stern; and he himself stepped aboard and lay down
in silence; and they sat down, each at his own bench,
in good order, and loosed the cable from the pierced stone.
When they had leaned back and were tossing up the salt sea with their oars,
then sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids,
a sleep without waking, the sweetest, most like to death.
And she, as when on a plain four stallion horses,
all starting off together under the strokes of the whip,
lifting themselves high, swiftly finish their course,
so her stern rose up, and behind her a great purple wave
boiled up out of the much-resounding sea.
And she ran very safely and steadily; not even a hawk,
the circling hawk, could have kept up with her, the lightest of winged things.
So, running swiftly, she cut through the waves of the sea,
carrying a man whose counsels were like those of the gods;
who before had suffered very many griefs in his own heart,
passing through wars of men and grievous waves,
but then he slept quietly, forgetting all that he had suffered.
When the brightest star rose up, the one that comes most of all
announcing the light of early-born Dawn,
then the sea-faring ship drew near to the island.
There is a harbour of Phorcys, the old man of the sea,
in the land of Ithaca; and two jutting headlands are in it,
sheer broken cliffs, leaning down toward the harbour,
which shelter the great wave of the ill-blowing winds
from outside; and inside, without any mooring rope, stay
well-benched ships, once they have reached the measure of a good anchorage.
And at the head of the harbour is a long-leafed olive tree,
and near it a lovely shadowy cave,
sacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads.
In it are mixing bowls and two-handled jars
of stone; and there the bees store up their honey.
And in it are very tall stone looms, where the nymphs
weave sea-purple cloth, a wonder to look at;
and in it are ever-flowing waters. And it has two doors,
one toward the North, a way down for men,
and the other toward the South, which is more divine; and by that way
no men come in, but it is the path of the immortals.
There they drove in, not knowing it beforehand; and she then
ran aground on the mainland as far as half of her whole length,
hurrying on; so greatly was the strength of the rowers pushing her.
And they, stepping out of the well-benched ship onto the land,
first lifted Odysseus out of the hollow ship
together with his linen sheet and his shining rug,
and laid him on the sand, overcome by sleep,
and lifted out the possessions which the noble Phaeacians
had given him as he went homeward, through great-hearted Athena.
And these they piled up together beside the foot of the olive
off the road, in case some passing man
came upon them before Odysseus woke and harmed them;
and they themselves went back home again. Nor did the earth-shaker
forget the threats which he had first made against godlike Odysseus,
but he asked for the counsel of Zeus:
Father Zeus, I shall no longer be honoured
among the immortal gods, since mortals do not honour me at all,
the Phaeacians, who are indeed of my own lineage.
For even now I said that Odysseus, having suffered many evils,
would come home; and I never wholly took away his homecoming,
since you first promised it and nodded your assent.
But they, carrying him asleep in the swift ship over the sea,
set him down in Ithaca, and gave him countless gifts,
bronze and gold in abundance and woven clothing,
many things, such as Odysseus would never have carried away from Troy,
even if he had come back unharmed, having drawn his share from the spoil.
And Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him and said:
Well now, earth-shaker of wide strength, what a thing you have said.
The gods do not dishonour you; and it would be hard
to hurl dishonour at the eldest and the best.
But if some man, yielding to your force and might,
does not honour you, there is always vengeance for you afterwards too.
Do as you wish, and as is dear to your heart.
Then Poseidon the earth-shaker answered him:
I would do it at once, dark-clouded one, just as you say;
but I always respect and avoid your anger.
Now again I wish that the very beautiful ship of the Phaeacians,
as it comes back from its escort, in the misty sea,
I might smash, so that they may now hold back and stop escorting
mortals, and that I might wrap a great mountain around their city.
And Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him:
My dear one, as it seems best to my own heart,
when all the people from the city see it as it is rowed in,
then set a stone near the land,
like a swift ship, so that all men may marvel,
and wrap a great mountain around their city.
But when Poseidon the earth-shaker heard this,
he went to Scheria, where the Phaeacians live.
There he waited; and the sea-faring ship came very close,
swiftly driven; and the earth-shaker came near it,
who turned it into stone and rooted it fast from below,
striking it with the flat of his hand; and he had gone off.
And they spoke winged words to one another,
the Phaeacians of long oars, men famous for their ships.
And one of them would say, looking at another nearby:
Alas, who has stopped the swift ship in the sea
as it was being rowed home? And indeed it had appeared entire.
So someone would say; but they did not know how it had happened.
Then Alcinous spoke to them and said:
Alas, indeed the prophecies spoken long ago have come upon me,
from my father, who said that Poseidon was angry
with us, because we are blameless escorts of all men.
He said that one day a very beautiful ship of Phaeacian men,
coming back from an escort, in the misty sea,
would be smashed, and a great mountain would wrap around our city.
So the old man spoke; and now all of this is being fulfilled.
But come, let us all be persuaded by what I say:
stop escorting mortals, whenever anyone comes
to our city; and to Poseidon let us sacrifice twelve bulls,
chosen ones, in the hope that he may take pity,
and not wrap a towering mountain around our city.
So he spoke, and they were afraid, and got the bulls ready.
So they prayed to lord Poseidon,
the leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacian people,
standing around the altar. And godlike Odysseus woke
as he slept in his native land, and he did not recognize it,
having been away so long; for the goddess had poured mist around him,
Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, so that she might make him
unrecognized, and tell him everything,
before his wife or his townsmen or his friends recognized him,
before he had exacted payment for all the suitors' outrage.
That is why everything appeared in another shape to the lord,
the long straight paths and the harbours fit for any mooring,
and the steep cliffs and the flourishing trees.
He sprang up and stood, and looked at his native land;
and then he groaned aloud and struck his thighs
with the flat of his hands, and lamenting he spoke a word:
Woe is me, into the land of what mortals have I come now?
Are they violent and savage, and not just,
or are they friendly to strangers, and is their mind god-fearing?
Where am I to carry these many goods? And where am I myself
to wander? I wish I had stayed with the Phaeacians
there; and I might have reached another of the over-mighty kings,
who would have loved me and sent me on my way.
But now I do not know where to put these things, and I will not leave them
here either, in case they become spoil for others.
Well then, the leaders and counsellors of the Phaeacians were not
all sensible and just,
who led me away to another land, though they said
they would bring me to clear-seen Ithaca, and they did not do it.
May Zeus, the god of suppliants, punish them, he who also
watches over other men and takes vengeance on anyone who does wrong.
But come, let me count the goods and look them over,
in case they have gone off carrying some of them in the hollow ship.
So saying, he counted the very beautiful tripods and cauldrons
and the gold and the woven beautiful clothing.
He was missing none of these; but he mourned for his native land,
crawling along the shore of the much-resounding sea,
lamenting greatly. And Athena came near to him,
in form like a young man, a keeper of sheep,
very soft-skinned, such as the sons of lords are,
wearing a well-made two-fold cloak over her shoulders;
and under her shining feet she had sandals, and in her hands a spear.
Odysseus was glad when he saw her, and came to meet her,
and speaking he addressed her with winged words:
Friend, since I first come upon you in this place,
greetings, and do not meet me with any evil intent,
but save these things, and save me; for to you I pray
as to a god, and I come to your dear knees.
And tell me this truthfully, so that I may know it well:
What land, what people, what men are born here?
Is it some clear-seen island, or some shore
lying there by the sea of the rich-soiled mainland?
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:
You are a fool, stranger, or you have come from far away,
if you are asking about this land. And it is not at all
so nameless; very many people know it,
both those who live toward the dawn and the sun,
and those who live behind toward the misty darkness.
It is rugged and no good for horses,
and not too poor either, but it is not broad either.
For in it there is grain beyond telling, and in it wine
grows; and rain always covers it, and flourishing dew;
it is good for grazing goats and for grazing cattle; there is woodland
of every kind, and in it there are watercourses that never fail.
So, stranger, the name of Ithaca has reached even to Troy,
which they say is far from the land of Achaea.
So she spoke, and much-enduring godlike Odysseus was glad,
rejoicing in his native land, as she told him,
Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis;
and speaking he addressed her with winged words:
But he did not tell the truth, and he checked his words back again,
always turning in his breast a mind that looks for gain:
I had heard of Ithaca even in broad Crete,
far across the sea; and now I myself have come
with these goods; and leaving as much again behind for my children
I am a fugitive, because I killed the dear son of Idomeneus,
Orsilochus swift of foot, who in broad Crete
used to beat men who work for their bread with his swift feet,
because he wanted to rob me of all the spoil
from Troy, for which I suffered griefs in my heart,
passing through wars of men and grievous waves,
because I did not serve in the land of the Trojans to please his father,
but I led other comrades.
Him, as he came down from the country, I hit with my bronze-tipped spear,
lying in wait with a comrade near the road;
and a very dark night held the sky, and no one
of men noticed us, and I took his life unseen.
But when I had killed him with the sharp bronze,
at once I went to the ship and begged the noble Phoenicians,
and I gave them a spoil that pleased their hearts;
I asked them to set me down and carry me to Pylos
or to godlike Elis, where the Epeians rule.
But the force of the wind drove them away from there,
much against their will, and they did not mean to cheat me.
And driven off course from there, we came here by night.
In haste we rowed into the harbour, and none of us
had any thought of supper, though we badly needed to take it,
but just as we were, all of us lay down after getting off the ship.
There sweet sleep came over me as I lay wearied,
and they took my goods out of the hollow ship
and set them down where I myself was lying on the sand.
And they, going aboard for well-peopled Sidon,
sailed off; and I was left with an aching heart.
So he spoke, and the goddess bright-eyed Athena smiled,
and stroked him with her hand; and she was like in form to a woman,
beautiful and tall, and skilled in glorious works;
and speaking she addressed him with winged words:
Crafty and thievish would that man be who could get past you
in any kind of trick, even if a god came against you.
Hard one, of many wiles, never satisfied with tricks, you were not going
to give up your deceits, not even when in your own land,
or your thievish words, which are dear to you through and through.
But come, let us no longer talk about these things, since we both know
about cunning, since you are by far the best of all mortals
in counsel and in speech, and I among all the gods
am famous for wisdom and for cunning; and you did not recognize
Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, who always
stands beside you in every labour and guards you,
and made you dear to all the Phaeacians,
and now I have come here, so that I may weave a plan with you
and hide the goods which the noble Phaeacians
gave you as you went homeward, by my counsel and my mind,
and tell you all the troubles that fate says you must
endure in your well-built halls; and you must endure them whether you like it or not,
and not reveal it to anyone, neither man nor woman,
of all people, that you have come wandering, but in silence
endure many griefs, submitting to the violence of men.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her:
It is hard, goddess, for a mortal who meets you to know you,
even for one who knows a great deal; for you make yourself like everything.
But this I know well, that you were kind to me before,
while we sons of the Achaeans fought at Troy.
But when we had sacked the steep city of Priam,
and went aboard the ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans,
I did not see you after that, daughter of Zeus, nor did I notice
you boarding my ship, to ward off some grief from me.
But always holding a torn spirit in my own heart
I wandered, until the gods freed me from misery;
until, in the rich land of the Phaeacian men,
you encouraged me with words and you yourself led me to the city.
But now I beg you by your father, for I do not think
that I have come to clear-seen Ithaca, but that I am wandering over some other
land; and I think you are mocking me
when you say this, so that you may beguile my mind.
Tell me whether I have truly come to my dear native land.
Then the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:
Your breast always holds a thought like this;
that is why I cannot leave you in your misery,
because you are gentle and quick-minded and sensible.
For gladly would another man, coming home after wandering,
want to see his children and his wife in his halls;
but it is not yet dear to you to learn or to ask about it,
before you have made trial of your wife, who sits there just so
in the halls, and for her the nights and the days
are always wasted away in wretchedness as she sheds tears.
But I never disbelieved this, but in my heart
I knew that you would come home after losing all your comrades;
but I did not want to fight with Poseidon,
my father's brother, who put wrath in his heart against you,
angry because you blinded his dear son.
But come, I will show you the seat of Ithaca, so that you may believe it.
This is the harbour of Phorcys, the old man of the sea,
and this at the head of the harbour is the long-leafed olive;
and near it the lovely shadowy cave,
sacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads;
and this is the vaulted cave, where you
used to offer many perfect hecatombs to the nymphs;
and this is Mount Neriton, covered in forest.
So speaking, the goddess scattered the mist, and the land appeared;
and much-enduring godlike Odysseus was glad,
rejoicing in his land, and he kissed the life-giving earth.
At once he prayed to the nymphs, raising his hands:
Nymphs, Naiads, daughters of Zeus, I never
thought I would see you; and now with gentle prayers
greetings; and we will give gifts too, as before,
if the daughter of Zeus, driver of the spoil, willingly lets me
both live myself and raise up my dear son.
Then the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:
Take heart, do not let these things weigh on your mind.
But the goods, let us put them at once now
in the recess of the wondrous cave, so that they may stay safe for you;
and let us ourselves think how things may turn out for the best.
So speaking, the goddess went into the shadowy cave,
searching out the hiding places through the cave; and Odysseus
carried everything close, gold and unyielding bronze
and well-made clothing, which the Phaeacians gave him.
And he put them away well, and set a stone at the doors,
Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis.
And the two of them, sitting beside the foot of the sacred olive,
planned destruction for the overbearing suitors.
And the goddess bright-eyed Athena began the talk:
Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,
think how you will lay your hands on the shameless suitors,
who now for three years have lorded it in your hall,
wooing your godlike wife and offering bride-gifts;
and she, always mourning in her heart for your return,
holds hope out to every one and promises each man,
sending messages, but her mind wants other things.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her:
Well now, I really was going to perish in my halls
by the evil death of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,
if you, goddess, had not told me every detail as it should be told.
But come, weave a plan, how I may take vengeance on them;
and stand beside me yourself, putting much-daring might in me,
such as when we loosed the shining battlements of Troy.
If you, so eager, would stand by me, bright-eyed one,
then I would fight even against three hundred men
with you, honoured goddess, whenever you readily help me.
Then the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:
Indeed I shall be there with you, and you will not escape my notice,
when we busy ourselves with these things; and I think that some
will stain the boundless ground with blood and brains,
the suitors, who eat up your livelihood.
But come, I will make you unrecognized by all mortals;
I will shrivel the fair skin on your supple limbs,
and destroy the yellow hair from your head, and put round you a rag
that a man would hate to see anyone wearing,
and I will dim your eyes, which were so very beautiful before,
so that you may appear ugly to all the suitors
and to your wife and child, whom you left in the halls.
And do you first of all go to the swineherd,
who is the guardian of your pigs, and who feels kindly toward you,
and loves your son and sensible Penelope.
You will find him sitting among the pigs; and they feed
beside the rock of Corax and the spring Arethusa,
eating the acorns they like and drinking the dark water,
which makes the pigs grow a rich layer of fat.
Stay there and, sitting beside him, ask him everything,
while I go to Sparta of fair women
to call Telemachus, your dear son, Odysseus;
who has gone to spacious Lacedaemon, to Menelaus,
to ask for news of you, in case you are still alive.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her:
Why then did you not tell him, you who know everything in your mind?
Was it so that he too might wander and suffer griefs
over the barren sea? And others eat up his substance?
Then the goddess bright-eyed Athena answered him:
Do not let him weigh too heavily on your mind.
I myself was escorting him, so that he might win good fame
by going there; and he has no trouble, but sits at his ease
in the house of the son of Atreus, and endless gifts lie beside him.
Truly the young men are lying in wait for him with a black ship,
eager to kill him before he reaches his native land;
but I do not think that will happen before the earth holds some one
of the suitors, who eat up your livelihood.
So speaking, Athena touched him with her wand.
She shrivelled the fair skin on his supple limbs,
and destroyed the yellow hair from his head, and over all his limbs
she put the skin of an old man,
and dimmed his eyes, which were so very beautiful before;
and she threw around him another foul rag and a tunic,
torn and dirty, blackened with foul smoke;
and she dressed him in the great hide of a swift deer,
bare of hair; and she gave him a staff and an ugly beggar's bag,
all torn; and in it there was a twisted strap for a carrying cord.
So the two of them, having planned all this, parted. And she then
went to godlike Lacedaemon after the son of Odysseus.

### Book 14

But he went up from the harbor by the rough path
through the wooded land, over the heights, where Athena
had shown him the godlike swineherd, who cared most
for the livelihood of the slaves whom godlike Odysseus had acquired.
She found him sitting in the porch, where his courtyard
had been built high, in a place that could be seen from all around,
fine and large, with a running space about it; the swineherd
had built it himself for the pigs while his master was away,
apart from the mistress and old Laertes,
with quarried stones, and he fenced it about with wild pear.
Outside he drove stakes all the way through, here and there,
thick and close-set, splitting the dark oak;
and inside the courtyard he made twelve sties
close to one another, beds for the pigs; and in each
fifty swine that sleep on the ground were penned,
sows with young; but the boars slept outside,
far fewer; for the godlike suitors kept wearing them down by eating,
since the swineherd kept sending out
always the best of all the well-fed fatlings;
and these were three hundred and sixty.
And beside them four dogs, like wild beasts, always slept,
four, which the swineherd, leader of men, had reared.
He himself was fitting sandals about his feet,
cutting a well-colored oxhide; and the others
had gone off each a different way with the gathered swine,
three of them; and he had sent the fourth to the city
to drive a pig to the arrogant suitors, by necessity,
so that when they had sacrificed they might satisfy their hearts with meat.
Suddenly the barking dogs caught sight of Odysseus.
They ran at him with loud cries; but Odysseus
sat down in his cunning, and the staff fell from his hand.
There he would have suffered shameful pain beside his own farmstead;
but the swineherd quickly followed with swift feet
and rushed through the doorway, and the hide fell from his hand.
He shouted at them and drove the dogs off this way and that
with a shower of stones; and he spoke to his master:
Old man, the dogs nearly tore you apart
all at once, and you would have poured reproach on me.
And the gods have given me other sorrows and groanings besides;
for mourning and grieving for my godlike master
I sit here, and I fatten fat pigs for others
to eat; but he, longing somewhere for food,
wanders through the land and city of men of other tongues,
if perhaps he still lives and sees the light of the sun.
But come, let us go to the hut, old man, so that you too,
once you have satisfied your heart with bread and wine,
may tell me where you are from and how many sorrows you have endured.
So he spoke, and the godlike swineherd led the way to the hut,
and brought him in and seated him, and spread shaggy brushwood beneath him,
and spread over it the skin of a wild shaggy goat,
a bed of his own, large and shaggy. And Odysseus rejoiced
that he had received him so, and he spoke a word and addressed him:
May Zeus grant you, stranger, and the other immortal gods,
whatever you most wish, since you received me kindly.
And you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:
Stranger, it is not right for me, not even if a worse man than you came,
to dishonor a stranger; for all strangers
and beggars are from Zeus; and a gift, though small, is dear
when it comes from us; for such is the way of slaves
who are always in fear, when the young masters hold power.
For truly the gods have bound his homecoming,
the man who would have loved me warmly and given me possessions,
a house and an estate and a much-courted wife,
such as a kind master gives to his own slave
who has toiled much for him, and a god increases his work,
just as this work of mine increases, and I stay on at it.
So my master would have greatly benefited me, if he had grown old here;
but he perished — how I wish the race of Helen had perished
utterly, since she loosened the knees of many men;
for he too went, for the honor of Agamemnon,
to horse-rich Troy, to fight the Trojans.
So he spoke, and quickly girded his tunic with a belt,
and went to the sties, where herds of pigs were penned.
From there he took two and brought them, and sacrificed both,
and singed them and cut them up and pierced them on spits.
And when he had roasted them all, he brought them and set them before Odysseus
hot on the spits themselves; and he sprinkled white barley over them;
and in a wooden bowl he mixed honey-sweet wine,
and he himself sat down opposite him, and urged him on, saying:
Eat now, stranger, what the slaves have here,
young pigs; but the fat hogs the suitors eat,
with no thought of mercy or pity in their minds.
The blessed gods do not love cruel deeds,
but they honor justice and the righteous works of men.
And even hostile and wicked men, who come to the land
of others and Zeus grants them plunder,
and they go back with their ships full, homeward,
even on them a strong fear of vengeance falls in their hearts.
But these men know something, having heard a divine voice,
of that man's wretched destruction, since they do not wish to court
rightly or to go home to their own lands, but at ease
they devour his possessions with violence, and there is no restraint.
For as many nights and days as come from Zeus,
they never sacrifice one victim, not even two alone;
and they waste his wine, drawing it off in violence.
For truly his wealth was unspeakable; no man of the heroes
had so much, neither on the dark mainland
nor on Ithaca itself; not even twenty men together
have such wealth; but I will recount it to you.
Twelve herds on the mainland; that many flocks of sheep,
that many herds of pigs, that many broad flocks of goats
do strangers and his own herdsmen feed.
And here eleven broad flocks of goats in all
graze at the border, and good men watch over them.
Of these each man daily brings in a beast,
whichever of the well-fed goats seems best.
And I myself guard and protect these pigs,
and I pick out the best of the pigs carefully and send it off.
So he spoke, and Odysseus ate the meat eagerly and drank the wine
greedily in silence, and was plotting evil for the suitors.
But when he had dined and fitted his heart with food,
and he filled a cup for him, the one he himself drank from,
full of wine, he took it and rejoiced in his heart,
and spoke to him and addressed him with winged words:
My friend, who bought you with his own goods,
so very rich and powerful as you say?
You say he perished for the honor of Agamemnon.
Tell me, in case I somehow know of such a man.
For Zeus surely knows it, and the other immortal gods,
if I might report him after seeing him; and I have wandered far.
And the swineherd answered him then, leader of men:
Old man, no man who has come wandering
and reporting could persuade that man's wife and dear son,
but men who are wanderers in need of a living lie in vain,
and they do not wish to tell the truth.
And whoever comes wandering to the land of Ithaca,
goes to my mistress and speaks deceitful things;
and she receives him well and loves him and asks him everything,
and as she mourns tears fall from her eyelids,
as is the way of a woman, when her husband has perished elsewhere.
You too, old man, would quickly fashion a story,
if someone gave you a cloak and tunic and clothing.
But the swift dogs and birds have by now
torn the hide from his bones, and his life has left him;
or fish have eaten him in the sea, and his bones
lie on the mainland, wrapped in much sand.
So he has perished there, and grief for the future has been
prepared for all his dear ones, and most of all for me; for never again
shall I find another master so gentle, wherever I go,
not even if I came back to the house of my father and mother,
where I was first born and they themselves raised me.
Nor do I mourn for them as much as that, though I long
to see them with my eyes while I am in my native land;
but longing for Odysseus, who is gone, seizes me.
Him, stranger, though he is absent, I am ashamed
not to name; for he loved me exceedingly and cared for me in his heart;
but I call him my dear one even though he is far away.
And much-enduring godlike Odysseus spoke to him again:
My friend, since you utterly refuse and no longer say
that he will come, and your heart is always distrustful;
but I will not speak idly, but with an oath,
that Odysseus is coming; and let there be a reward for good news for me
at once, when that man comes and reaches his home;
that you clothe me in cloak and tunic, fine clothing;
but before that, though I am in great need, I would take nothing.
For that man is as hateful to me as the gates of Hades,
who, yielding to poverty, speaks deceitful things.
Let Zeus know this now, first of the gods, and the table of hospitality,
and the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have come to;
truly all these things will be accomplished as I say.
In this very year Odysseus will come here,
as this month wanes and the next begins,
and he will come home, and he will punish whoever
dishonors his wife and glorious son here.
And you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:
Old man, I will not pay this reward for good news,
nor will Odysseus ever come home again; but at ease
drink, and let us remember other things, and do not
remind me of these things; for my heart in my breast
grieves whenever someone mentions my trusty master.
But let us leave the oath aside, and may Odysseus
come, however I wish it, and Penelope
and old Laertes and godlike Telemachus.
Now again I mourn for the son whom Odysseus begot,
Telemachus; when the gods had raised him like a sapling,
I thought he would be among men in no way inferior
to his own dear father, wondrous in body and form;
but some one of the immortals harmed the wise mind within him,
or some man; and he went to hear news of his father
to holy Pylos; and the noble suitors
lie in wait for him as he comes home, so that the race
of godlike Arcesius may perish nameless from Ithaca.
But let us leave that man alone, whether he be caught
or escape, and the son of Cronos hold his hand over him.
But come, you, old man, tell me your own sorrows
and tell me this truly, so that I may know it well:
Who are you, and from where among men? Where is your city and your parents?
And on what kind of ship did you come? How did the sailors
bring you to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be?
For I do not think you came here on foot.
And resourceful Odysseus answered him:
Then I will tell you these things very exactly.
If only we two had food for a time, and
sweet wine, while we sit inside the hut,
and feast in silence, and others go about their work;
easily then for a whole year
I could not finish telling of the sorrows of my heart,
all that I have suffered by the will of the gods.
I declare that I am by birth from broad Crete,
the son of a wealthy man; and many other
sons were raised in his hall and were born
legitimate from his wife; but a bought mother bore me,
a concubine, yet Castor, son of Hylax, honored me
equally with his true-born sons, and I declare I am of his line,
who at that time among the Cretans was honored like a god by the people
for his prosperity and wealth and glorious sons.
But the fates came and brought him death
to the house of Hades; and his sons divided his living
in their pride and cast lots for it,
and they gave me very little and assigned me a house.
But I married a wife from men of many possessions
because of my own excellence, since I was not worthless
nor one to shun war; but now all that has left me,
and yet I think that you, looking at the stubble,
recognize it; for truly great misery holds me.
Truly Ares and Athena gave me courage
and the power to break through ranks; whenever I picked
the best men for an ambush, plotting evil for the enemy,
my proud heart never foresaw death for me,
but far the first I leaped out and killed with my spear
whichever of the enemy gave way to my feet.
Such was I in war; but work was not dear to me,
nor care of the household, which raises glorious children,
but always dear to me were ships with oars
and wars and well-polished spears and arrows,
wretched things, which to others are dreadful.
But I loved the things that some god put in my heart;
for one man takes pleasure in one kind of work, another in another.
For before the sons of the Achaeans set foot on Troy
I had led nine men and swift-sailing ships
against foreign peoples, and it went very well for me.
Of these I chose out what pleased me, and much besides
I got by lot; and quickly my house grew, and then
I became feared and respected among the Cretans.
But when Zeus who sees far had willed that hateful journey,
the one that loosened the knees of many men,
then they commanded me and glorious Idomeneus
to lead ships to Ilion; and there was no way
to refuse, for the people's talk was harsh.
There for nine years we sons of the Achaeans fought,
and in the tenth we sacked the city of Priam and went
home with our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans.
But for wretched me counsellor Zeus planned evil;
for I stayed only a month, taking pleasure in my children
and my wedded wife and my possessions; and then
my heart urged me to sail to Egypt,
after fitting out my ships well with godlike companions.
I fitted out nine ships, and the men quickly gathered.
For six days then my trusty companions
feasted; and I provided many victims
both to sacrifice to the gods and to make a feast for themselves.
And on the seventh we embarked from broad Crete
and sailed with the north wind, clear and fair,
easily, as if down with the current; and none of my
ships was harmed, but unharmed and free of sickness
we sat, and the wind and the helmsmen steered them.
On the fifth day we reached fair-flowing Egypt,
and I moored my curved ships in the Egyptian river.
Then I ordered my trusty companions
to stay there beside the ships and guard them,
and I urged watchers to go up to the lookouts;
but they, yielding to arrogance, following their own fury,
at once laid waste the very beautiful fields of the Egyptian men,
and carried off the women and little children,
and killed the men themselves; and quickly the cry reached the city.
And they, hearing the shouting at the appearing of dawn,
came; and the whole plain was filled with footmen and horses
and the gleam of bronze; and Zeus who delights in thunder
threw foul panic among my companions, and none dared
stand and face them; for evils stood all around them.
There they killed many of us with the sharp bronze,
and led others away alive, to work for them by force.
But Zeus himself put this thought in my mind —
how I wish I had died and met my doom
right there in Egypt — for still more trouble was waiting for me —
at once I took the well-made helmet off my head
and the shield from my shoulders, and threw the spear from my hand;
and I went in front of the king's horses
and clasped and kissed his knees; and he saved me and pitied me,
and set me on his chariot and took me home while I wept.
Truly many came at me with spears,
eager to kill me — for they were very angry —
but he held them off, for he feared the wrath of Zeus,
the god of guests, who is most indignant at evil deeds.
There I stayed seven years, and gathered much
wealth among the Egyptian people; for they all gave.
But when the eighth year came round for me,
then a Phoenician man came, a man skilled in deceit,
a cheat, who had done much evil to men;
he persuaded me with his cunning to go with him
to Phoenicia, where his house and possessions were.
There I stayed with him until a full year ended.
But when the months and days were completed
as the year rolled round and the seasons came on,
he set me on a sea-crossing ship for Libya
after plotting lies, so that I might carry goods for him,
and that he might sell me there and win unspeakable profit.
I went with him onto the ship, though I suspected, by force.
She ran with the north wind, clear and fair,
past the middle of Crete; but Zeus was planning destruction for them.
But when we had left Crete behind and no other land
appeared, only sky and sea,
then the son of Cronos set a dark cloud
above the hollow ship, and the sea grew murky beneath it.
And Zeus thundered at once and hurled a lightning bolt at the ship;
she shuddered all over, struck by the bolt of Zeus,
and was filled with sulfur; and all fell from the ship.
They, like cormorants, around the black ship
were borne by the waves; and the god took away their homecoming.
But to me, though I had sorrow in my heart, Zeus himself
gave the great mast of the dark-prowed ship
in my hands, so that I might still escape ruin.
Clinging to it I was carried by the deadly winds.
For nine days I was carried, and on the tenth dark night
a great rolling wave brought me to the land of the Thesprotians.
There Phidon, king of the Thesprotians, took me in,
a hero, without ransom; for his dear son came upon me
overcome by cold and weariness and led me to his house,
raising me up by the hand, until he reached his father's house;
and he clothed me in cloak and tunic and clothing.
There I heard about Odysseus; for he said
he had entertained and loved him when he came to his native land,
and he showed me the possessions that Odysseus had gathered,
bronze and gold and much-wrought iron.
And it would feed even another for ten generations;
so many treasures of the master lay in his halls.
And he said he had gone to Dodona, so that he might hear
from the god's tall-leafed oak the counsel of Zeus,
how he should return to the rich land of Ithaca,
after being away so long, openly or in secret.
And he swore to me himself, pouring a libation in his house,
that a ship was drawn down and companions were ready,
who would send him to his dear native land.
But he sent me away first; for a ship happened to come
of Thesprotian men to grain-rich Dulichium.
There he told them to send me carefully
to king Acastus; but they pleased their minds with an evil plan
concerning me, so that I might fall into still more misery.
But when the sea-crossing ship had sailed far from land,
at once they contrived a day of slavery for me.
They stripped off my cloak and tunic and clothing,
and threw around me another wretched rag and a tunic,
torn, which you yourself see with your eyes;
and at evening they came to the fields of bright Ithaca.
There they bound me in the well-benched ship
with a well-twisted rope, tightly, and they themselves went ashore
in haste and took their supper beside the shore of the sea.
But the gods themselves loosened the bond for me
easily; and wrapping a rag over my head,
I slid down the smooth lading-plank and pressed my breast
to the sea, and then I swam with both hands
swimming, and very quickly I was out and away from them.
Then I went up to where there was a thicket of flowering wood,
and lay there crouched. And they, groaning greatly,
went up and down; but since no profit appeared to them
in searching further, they went back again
onto the hollow ship; and the gods themselves hid me
easily, and led me and brought me to the farmstead
of a man who knew his craft; for it was still my fate to live.
And you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:
Ah, wretched stranger, you have greatly stirred my heart
by telling all these things that you have suffered and wandered through.
But that, I think, is not in order, and you will not persuade me
by speaking about Odysseus; why should you, being such a man,
lie idly? I myself well know
the homecoming of my master, how he was hated by all the gods
utterly, since they did not kill him among the Trojans
or in the arms of his friends, when he had finished the war.
Then all the Achaeans would have made him a tomb,
and he would have won great glory for his son in the future;
but now the harpies snatched him away without glory.
But I stay apart among the pigs; and I do not
go to the city, unless perhaps wise Penelope
urges me to come, when some report comes from somewhere.
But those who sit here ask about each thing,
both those who grieve that the master is long gone,
and those who rejoice, eating his substance for nothing.
But it is not my pleasure to ask questions and inquire,
ever since an Aetolian man deceived me with a story,
who, after killing a man, had wandered over much land,
came to my house; and I welcomed him warmly.
He said he had seen him among the Cretans at Idomeneus' side,
repairing his ships, which the storms had shattered;
and he said he would come either in summer or in autumn,
bringing much wealth, with godlike companions.
And you, old man of many sorrows, since a god has brought you to me,
do not gratify me with lies nor charm me in anything;
for it is not for that reason that I will respect or love you,
but because I fear Zeus the god of guests and pity you myself.
And resourceful Odysseus answered him:
Truly the heart in your breast is very distrustful,
since I could not move you even with an oath, nor persuade you.
But come now, let us make an agreement; and hereafter
let the gods who hold Olympus be witnesses for us both.
If your master returns to this house,
that you clothe me in cloak and tunic and send me
to go to Dulichium, where it was dear to my heart;
but if your master does not come, as I say,
then set your slaves on me and throw me down a great cliff,
so that even another beggar will avoid deception.
And the godlike swineherd answered him:
Stranger, then it would be good repute and virtue for me
among men, both at once and afterwards,
if, after I brought you into my hut and gave you guest-gifts,
I then killed you and took away your dear life;
gladly then I would pray to Zeus, son of Cronos.
But now it is time for supper; may my companions be inside
as quickly as possible, so that we may prepare a tasty supper in the hut.
So they spoke such things to one another,
and the pigs and the swineherd men came near.
They penned the sows to sleep in their usual places,
and an unspeakable squealing rose from the pigs as they were penned;
and the godlike swineherd called out to his companions:
Bring in the best of the pigs, so that I may sacrifice it for the stranger
from far away; and we ourselves will benefit too, who for so long
have had misery to suffer because of the white-tusked pigs;
but others eat our labor for nothing.
So he spoke and split wood with the pitiless bronze,
and they brought in a pig, very fat, five years old.
Then they stood it by the hearth; and the swineherd
did not forget the immortals; for he had good sense in his mind;
but he made a beginning and threw into the fire the hairs from the head
of the white-tusked pig, and prayed to all the gods
that wise Odysseus might come home to this house.
He raised himself up and struck it with a split of oak, which he had left lying;
and its life left it. And they cut its throat and singed it;
and quickly they cut it up; and the swineherd began to set aside the raw pieces,
beginning from all the limbs, into the rich fat,
and threw some into the fire, sprinkled with barley meal,
and they cut up the rest and pierced it on spits,
and roasted it carefully and drew it all off,
and threw it all together onto platters; and the swineherd
stood up to carve; for he knew what was right in his mind.
And he divided it all into seven portions, cutting it up:
one portion he set aside for the nymphs and Hermes, son of Maia,
with a prayer, and he gave the others to each man;
and he honored Odysseus with the continuous chine bones
of the white-tusked pig, and gladdened the heart of his master;
and resourceful Odysseus spoke to him and addressed him:
May you be as dear to father Zeus, Eumaeus,
as you are to me, since you honor me, such as I am, with good things.
And you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:
Eat, strange guest, and take pleasure in these things,
such as there are; and a god will give one thing and allow another to pass,
whatever he wishes in his heart; for he can do all things.
He spoke and offered the first fruits to the ever-living gods,
and after pouring a libation of flaming wine he put it
in the hands of Odysseus, sacker of cities; and he sat down by his own portion.
And Mesaulius served them bread, whom the swineherd
had himself acquired on his own while his master was away,
apart from the mistress and old Laertes;
he had bought him from the Taphians with his own goods.
And they reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.
But when they had put away the desire for drink and food,
Mesaulius took away the bread, and they hurried to bed,
satisfied with bread and meat.
And a dreadful night came on, moonless, and Zeus rained
all night, and a great wet west wind blew.
And Odysseus spoke among them, testing the swineherd,
whether he might somehow get him to give a cloak after taking off his own, or urge
one of his companions to do it, since he cared for him greatly:
Listen now, Eumaeus, and all you other companions,
I will speak a word as a boast; for wine bids me,
the foolish wine, which makes even a very wise man sing
and laugh softly, and makes him dance,
and brings out a word that it would be better to leave unsaid.
But since I have cried out, I will not hide it.
If only I were young again and my strength were firm,
as when we led an ambush set in order beneath Troy.
Odysseus and Atreus' son Menelaus led it,
and I was third in command with them; for they themselves asked me.
But when we came to the steep walled city,
we lay around the city in the thick bushes,
among reeds and marsh, crouching under our armor,
and lay there. And a dreadful night came on with the north wind falling,
frosty; and above us snow came like frost,
cold, and ice formed around the shields.
Then all the others had cloaks and tunics,
and slept at ease, wrapped in their shields over their shoulders;
but I, in my folly, had left my cloak with my companions
when I went, since I did not think I would freeze anyway,
but I followed with only my shield and a shining belt.
But when it was the third watch of the night, and the stars had passed by,
then I spoke to Odysseus, who was near,
nudging him with my elbow; and he heard at once:
Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, resourceful Odysseus,
I will no longer be among the living, but the cold
is killing me; for I have no cloak; some god tricked me
into coming with only a tunic; and now there is no escape.
So I spoke, and he then had this thought in his mind,
such was he at planning and fighting;
and speaking in a low voice he said a word to me:
Be quiet now, in case some other Achaean hears you.
And he held his head up on his elbow and spoke a word:
Listen, friends; a divine dream came to me in my sleep.
For we have gone too far from the ships; but let someone
go and tell Atreus' son Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,
to urge more of his men to come from the ships.
So he spoke, and then Thoas, the son of Andraemon, rose up
quickly, and threw off his purple cloak,
and set off running to the ships; and I lay down
gladly in his clothing, and gold-throned Dawn shone.
If only I were young now and my strength were firm;
then someone in the swineherds' farmstead would give me a cloak,
both out of friendship and respect for a good man;
but now they dishonor me because I wear wretched clothes.
And you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:
Old man, the tale you have told is blameless,
and you have not said a profitless word out of place;
so you will not lack clothing or anything else
that it is fitting for a sufferer who comes as a suppliant to receive,
at least for now; but in the morning you will shake out your rags.
For there are not many cloaks or tunics to change into
here to wear, but only one for each man.
But when the dear son of Odysseus comes,
he himself will give you cloak and tunic and clothing,
and send you wherever your heart and spirit bid you.
So he spoke and sprang up, and placed near the fire
a bed for him, and threw over it the skins of sheep and goats.
There Odysseus lay down; and he threw over him a cloak,
thick and large, which he kept as a change,
to wear whenever some terrible storm arose.
So Odysseus slept there, and beside him
the young men slept; but the swineherd
did not like to sleep there, away from the pigs,
but he went outside and armed himself; and Odysseus rejoiced,
because he cared greatly for his livelihood while he was away.
First he threw his sharp sword over his sturdy shoulders,
and wrapped around him a windproof cloak, very thick,
and took a shaggy covering of a large well-fed goat,
and took a sharp spear, a defense against dogs and men.
And he went to lie down where the white-tusked pigs
slept under the hollow rock, sheltered from the north wind.

### Book 15

But Pallas Athena went to wide Lacedaemon,
to remind the glorious son of great-hearted Odysseus
of his homecoming and urge him to come back.
She found Telemachus and the shining son of Nestor
asleep in the forecourt of glorious Menelaus,
the son of Nestor overcome by soft sleep;
but sweet sleep did not hold Telemachus; through the immortal night
his worries about his father kept him awake in his heart.
Standing close by, bright-eyed Athena said to him:
Telemachus, it is no longer good for you to wander far from home,
leaving your property and men in your house who are
so arrogant; they may eat up all your property,
dividing it among themselves, and you may come home on a wasted journey.
But quickly urge good-at-the-battle-cry Menelaus
to send you, so you may still find your blameless mother at home.
For already her father and brothers are telling her
to marry Eurymachus; for he outdoes all
the suitors with gifts and has raised his bride-price;
in case something is carried out of your house against your will.
For you know what a woman's mind is like in her breast;
she wants to build up the house of the man she marries,
but her earlier children and her beloved husband who has died
she no longer remembers or asks about.
But you should go and put each matter in the charge
of whichever of the maids seems best to you,
until the gods show you a glorious wife.
And I will tell you another thing; take it to heart.
The leading suitors are deliberately lying in wait for you
in the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos,
wanting to kill you before you reach your homeland.
But I do not think that will happen; the earth will first hold
some of those suitor men who are eating up your livelihood.
But keep your well-built ship far away from the islands,
and sail by night as well; someone will send you a fair wind from behind,
whichever of the immortals guards and protects you.
But when you reach the first shore of Ithaca,
send the ship and all your comrades to the city,
but first go yourself to the swineherd,
who is the keeper of your pigs and is kindly disposed to you.
Spend the night there; send him into the city
to carry the message to sensible Penelope,
that you are safe and have come back from Pylos.
So she spoke and went off to steep Olympus,
but he woke the son of Nestor from sweet sleep,
nudging him with his foot, and said a word to him:
Wake up, Pisistratus, son of Nestor; yoke the single-hoofed horses
and bring them under the chariot, so we can set out on our way.
Then Pisistratus, son of Nestor, answered him:
Telemachus, there is no way, eager as we are for the journey,
to drive through the dark night; dawn will come soon.
But wait until the hero son of Atreus brings gifts and puts them in the chariot,
Menelaus famous for the spear,
and with gentle words encourages you and sends you off.
For a guest remembers every day
the man who hosted him, if he shows him friendship.
So he spoke, and at once golden-throned Dawn came.
Good-at-the-battle-cry Menelaus came up to them,
getting up from his bed, next to fair-haired Helen.
When the dear son of Odysseus noticed him,
he hurried to pull a shining tunic over his skin,
and threw a great cloak over his sturdy shoulders,
the hero, and went outside, and standing beside him spoke
Telemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus:
Son of Atreus, Menelaus, raised by Zeus, leader of the people,
now send me off to my dear homeland;
for my heart already longs to get home.
Then good-at-the-battle-cry Menelaus answered him:
Telemachus, I will not keep you here a long time
when you long for home; I would blame any other man too
who is a host, whether he loves a guest too much
or hates him too much; better is everything in due measure.
It is equally bad, whether a man urges a guest to leave who does not want to,
or holds back one who is eager.
One should love a guest while he is there, and send him on when he wants to go.
But wait until I bring gifts and put them in the chariot,
fine ones, so you see them with your own eyes, and I tell the women
to prepare a meal in the halls, with plenty of what is inside.
It is both glory and splendor and profit
to set out over the wide boundless earth after eating.
But if you want to turn aside through Hellas and the middle of Argos,
so that I myself may go with you and yoke the horses for you,
and lead you to the cities of men; no one will send us
off empty-handed, but will give us something to carry away,
either some well-made bronze tripod or a cauldron,
or two mules, or a golden cup.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Son of Atreus, Menelaus, raised by Zeus, leader of the people,
I want to go now to my own home; for I did not leave any
guardian behind over my property when I set out;
in case, while looking for my godlike father, I myself die,
or some good treasure of mine is lost from the halls.
When good-at-the-battle-cry Menelaus heard this,
he at once told his wife and the maids
to prepare a meal in the halls, with plenty of what was inside.
Eteoneus, son of Boethous, came up to him,
getting up from his bed, for he lived not far from him;
good-at-the-battle-cry Menelaus told him to light a fire
and roast meat; and he did not disobey when he heard.
He himself went down into the fragrant storeroom,
not alone, but Helen and Megapenthes went with him.
But when they came to where the treasures were kept,
the son of Atreus took a two-handled cup,
and told his son Megapenthes to carry a mixing bowl
of silver; and Helen stood beside the chests,
where the richly embroidered robes were that she herself had made.
Helen, shining among women, lifted one of them and carried it,
the one that was most beautiful in its embroidery and the largest,
and it shone like a star; it lay at the bottom of the others.
They went on forward through the house until they came
to Telemachus; and fair-haired Menelaus said to him:
Telemachus, as for your homecoming, just as your heart desires it,
so may Zeus bring it about, the loud-thundering husband of Hera.
And of the gifts, all the treasures that lie in my house,
I will give you the one that is most beautiful and most prized.
I will give you a well-made mixing bowl; it is all
of silver, and its rim is inlaid with gold,
the work of Hephaestus; the shining hero gave it to me,
the king of the Sidonians, when his house sheltered me
there as I was coming home; and I want to give it to you.
So saying, he put the two-handled cup into his hand,
the hero son of Atreus; and mighty Megapenthes brought and set
the shining mixing bowl down in front of him,
of silver; and fair-cheeked Helen stood beside him
holding the robe in her hands, and spoke a word and called him by name:
This gift I too give you, dear child,
a keepsake of Helen's own hands, for the time of your much-desired marriage,
for your wife to wear; for now let it lie in the hall
beside your dear mother. And may you come with joy
to your well-built house and your homeland.
So she spoke and put it into his hands, and he took it with joy.
And the hero Pisistratus put these things into the basket,
taking them, and admired them all in his heart;
and fair-haired Menelaus led them to the house.
Then they sat down on the couches and chairs.
A handmaid brought water for washing and poured it from a pitcher,
a fine golden one, over a silver basin,
for them to wash; and she set a polished table beside them.
And the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,
putting many dishes before them, giving them freely of what was there;
and the son of Boethous carved the meat and handed out the portions;
and the son of glorious Menelaus poured the wine.
And they reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.
But when they had had enough of drink and food,
then Telemachus and the shining son of Nestor
yoked the horses and climbed onto the inlaid chariot,
and drove out through the gateway and the echoing portico.
And fair-haired Menelaus, son of Atreus, went with them,
holding honey-sweet wine in his right hand,
in a golden cup, so they could pour a libation and go.
He stood in front of the horses and spoke to them, greeting them:
Farewell, young men, and give this message to Nestor, shepherd of the people;
for he was as kind to me as a father
while we sons of the Achaeans were fighting at Troy.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Yes indeed, raised by Zeus, all these things you say
we will tell him when we get there; and how I wish that I,
coming home to Ithaca and finding Odysseus in his house,
could tell him that I come from you having received every kindness
and bringing many good treasures.
As he was speaking, a bird flew on the right,
an eagle carrying a huge white goose in its talons,
a tame one from the yard; and the men and women followed, shouting,
and coming near them
it swooped to the right in front of the horses; and when they saw it
they rejoiced, and the spirit in all their hearts was warmed.
And Pisistratus, son of Nestor, began speaking among them:
Consider, Menelaus, raised by Zeus, leader of the people,
whether a god has shown this sign to us two or to you yourself.
So he spoke, and Menelaus, dear to Ares, wondered
how he might answer him properly, once he had thought it out.
But long-robed Helen spoke first and said this:
Listen to me; and I will prophesy, as the immortals
put it in my heart, and as I think it will come true.
Just as this eagle snatched the goose that was raised in the house,
coming from the mountain, where its family and birth are,
so Odysseus, after suffering many troubles and wandering much,
will come home and take revenge; or else he is already
at home, and is planting ruin for all the suitors.
Then wise Telemachus answered her:
May Zeus bring that about now, the loud-thundering husband of Hera;
then I would pray to you even there as to a god.
He spoke, and struck the horses with the whip; and they very quickly
rushed eagerly through the town toward the plain.
All day long they shook the yoke they kept around them.
The sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;
and they came to Pherae, to the house of Diocles,
the son of Ortilochus, whom the Alpheus fathered.
There they spent the night, and he set out guest-gifts for them.
When early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
they yoked the horses and climbed onto the inlaid chariot,
and drove out through the gateway and the echoing portico;
he struck them to drive, and the two flew along, not unwilling.
And soon they reached the steep citadel of Pylos;
and then Telemachus spoke to the son of Nestor:
Son of Nestor, how would you promise me and carry out
what I ask? For we claim to be guest-friends always,
from our fathers' friendship, and we are also of the same age;
and this journey will bring us even more to the same mind.
Do not drive past the ship with me, raised by Zeus, but leave me here,
in case the old man holds me back against my will in his house,
eager to show me love; but I need to get home sooner.
So he spoke, and the son of Nestor thought it over in his heart,
how he might promise and carry it out properly.
And as he thought, it seemed better to him
to turn the horses toward the swift ship and the shore of the sea,
and at the ship's stern he unloaded the fine gifts,
clothing and gold, which Menelaus had given him;
and urging him on he spoke winged words:
Get aboard now in haste and tell all your comrades to,
before I get home and report to the old man.
For I know this well in my mind and heart:
his spirit is so violent that he will not let you go,
but he will come here himself to call you, and I say he will not
go back empty; for he will be very angry anyway.
So saying, he drove the fair-maned horses
back to the city of the Pylians, and quickly reached the house.
And Telemachus urged on his comrades and told them:
Arrange the gear, comrades, in the black ship,
and let us go aboard ourselves, so we can set out on our way.
So he spoke, and they listened to him and obeyed,
and quickly went aboard and sat down at the benches.
He was busy with this and praying, and sacrificing to Athena
beside the ship's stern; and a man came near him
from a far country, fleeing from Argos after killing a man,
a seer; and by birth he was a descendant of Melampus,
who once lived in Pylos, mother of flocks,
a wealthy man living in a house far greater than the Pylians';
but then he came to the land of other people, fleeing his homeland
and great-hearted Neleus, the most splendid of living men,
who kept much of his wealth for a whole year
by force. But he meanwhile, in the halls of Phylacus,
was bound in painful bonds, suffering terrible pains
because of the daughter of Neleus and a heavy disaster,
which the dreaded Fury, the goddess, put into his mind.
But he escaped death and drove the loud-bellowing cattle
to Pylos from Phylace, and took revenge for the shameful deed
on godlike Neleus, and brought the woman as a wife to his brother's
house. And he came to the land of other people,
to horse-pasturing Argos; for there it was fated for him
to live, ruling over many Argives.
There he married a wife and built a high-roofed house,
and fathered Antiphates and Mantius, two mighty sons.
Antiphates fathered great-hearted Oicles,
and Oicles fathered Amphiaraus, rouser of the people,
whom aegis-bearing Zeus and Apollo loved with all their heart
in every kind of friendship; he did not reach the threshold of old age,
but died in Thebes because of a woman's gifts.
His sons were Alcmaeon and Amphilochus.
Mantius in turn fathered Polypheides and Cleitus;
but golden-throned Dawn snatched Cleitus away
because of his beauty, so that he might be among the immortals;
and Apollo made proud Polypheides a seer,
by far the best of mortals, after Amphiaraus died;
who moved away to Hyperesia in anger at his father,
and living there he prophesied for all mortals.
His son came there, and his name was Theoclymenus,
who then stood near Telemachus; and he found him
pouring libations and praying beside the swift black ship,
and he spoke to him and addressed him with winged words:
Dear friend, since I find you sacrificing in this place,
I beg you by the offerings and the god, and then
by your own head and the comrades who follow you,
tell me the truth when I ask, and do not hide it:
Who are you among men, and where are you from? Where is your city and your parents?
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
Then I will tell you, stranger, quite exactly.
By birth I am from Ithaca, and my father is Odysseus,
if he ever existed; but now he has died by a wretched death.
That is why I now took comrades and a black ship
and came to ask about my father, long gone from home.
Then godlike Theoclymenus said to him:
So I too am from my homeland, having killed a man
of my own people; and there are many brothers and kinsmen
throughout horse-pasturing Argos, and they have great power among the Achaeans.
Avoiding death and black doom from them,
I am a fugitive, since it is my fate to wander among men.
But take me on your ship, since I have fled to you as a suppliant,
in case they kill me; for I think they are chasing me.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
No indeed, I will not push you off my well-balanced ship against your will,
but follow along; and there you will be welcomed with whatever we have.
So saying, he took the bronze spear from him,
and laid it out on the deck of the curved ship;
and he himself went aboard the sea-crossing ship.
Then he sat down at the stern, and beside him
he sat Theoclymenus; and they untied the stern cables.
And Telemachus urged on his comrades and told them
to take hold of the gear; and they obeyed eagerly.
They raised the pine mast and set it inside the hollow mast-box,
and made it fast with the fore-stays,
and hauled up the white sails with well-twisted oxhide ropes.
Bright-eyed Athena sent them a favorable wind,
blowing fiercely through the sky, so that as quickly as possible
the ship might run through the salt water of the sea.
They passed by Cruni and fair-streamed Chalcis.
The sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;
and the ship came to Pheae, driven on by the wind of Zeus,
and past shining Elis, where the Epeians hold power.
From there he sped on toward the swift islands,
wondering whether he might escape death or be caught.
Meanwhile in the hut Odysseus and the godlike swineherd
were eating supper; and other men ate supper beside them.
But when they had had enough of drink and food,
Odysseus spoke among them, testing the swineherd,
whether he would still kindly welcome him and tell him to stay
there at his farmstead, or urge him toward the city:
Hear me now, Eumaeus, and all you other comrades;
at dawn I want to go to the city
to beg, so that I do not wear you and your comrades out.
But advise me well and give me a good guide
who will lead me there; and through the city I myself will of necessity
wander around, in case someone offers me a cup and a bit of bread.
And if I go to the house of godlike Odysseus,
I could bring a message to sensible Penelope,
and I could mix with the arrogant suitors,
if they would give me a meal, since they have countless dishes.
I could soon do well among them in whatever they want.
For I will tell you plainly; take it in, and listen to me:
by the grace of Hermes the guide, who to all
men gives charm and glory in their work,
no other mortal could compete with me in service,
to pile a fire well and split dry wood,
to carve and roast and pour wine,
the sorts of things that lesser men do in service to their betters.
Then, greatly annoyed, you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:
Oh, stranger, why is this thought in your mind?
Do you really long to die right there?
If you want to go down into the crowd of the suitors,
whose arrogance and violence reach the iron sky,
their attendants are not men like you,
but young men, well dressed in cloaks and tunics,
always sleek about the head and with handsome faces,
who serve them; and well-polished tables
are loaded with bread and meat and wine.
But stay; for no one is upset at your being here,
neither I nor any other of the comrades I have.
But when the dear son of Odysseus comes,
he will dress you in cloak and tunic and clothes,
and send you wherever your heart and spirit tell you.
Then much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:
Ah, Eumaeus, may you be as dear to father Zeus
as you are to me, since you have stopped my wandering and dreadful misery.
There is nothing worse for mortals than wandering around;
but because of the cursed belly men have evil troubles,
whenever wandering and misery and pain come upon a man.
But now, since you insist that I stay and tell me to wait for him,
come, tell me about the mother of godlike Odysseus
and his father, whom he left when he set out at the threshold of old age,
whether they are still alive under the rays of the sun,
or are already dead and in the halls of Hades.
Then the swineherd, leader of men, answered him:
Then I will tell you, stranger, quite exactly.
Laertes is still alive, and he always prays to Zeus
that his life may waste away from his limbs in his own halls;
for he grieves terribly for the son who has gone away,
and for his wedded wife, a sensible woman, who above all
hurt him by dying and left him in harsh old age.
And she died of grief for her glorious son,
a wretched death; may no one who is dear to me
and lives here and does me kindness die like that.
So long as she was alive, grieving as she was,
it was dear to me to ask about her and question her,
because she herself raised me along with long-robed Ctimene,
her noble daughter, the youngest child she bore;
I was raised together with her, and she honored me only a little less.
But when we both reached delightful youth,
they gave her then to a man in Same and took countless gifts,
and she, dressing me fairly in cloak and tunic and clothes,
and giving me sandals for my feet,
sent me out to the fields; and she loved me all the more in her heart.
But now I am in need of these things; yet the blessed gods
make the work I stick to prosper;
from it I have eaten and drunk and given to respected men.
But from my mistress it is not possible to hear a gentle
word or deed, since evil has fallen on the house,
those arrogant men; and the slaves greatly lack the chance
to speak in the mistress's presence and learn everything
and eat and drink, and then carry something
out to the fields, the sorts of things that always warm a slave's heart.
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
Alas, how then, while still a small child, Eumaeus the swineherd,
you were driven far from your homeland and your parents.
But come, tell me this and recount it exactly,
whether the broad-streeted city of men was sacked,
in which your father and your honored mother lived,
or whether, when you were alone among the sheep or the cattle,
hostile men took you with their ships and sold you,
to this man's house, and he paid a worthy price.
Then the swineherd, leader of men, answered him:
Stranger, since you ask me these things and question me,
now listen in silence and enjoy yourself, and drink your wine
sitting here. For these nights are endless; there is time to sleep,
and time to listen with pleasure; there is no need for you
to lie down before the time comes; too much sleep is a nuisance.
Whichever of the others his heart and spirit tell him to,
let him go out and sleep; and at dawn when it appears,
let him eat and follow the master's pigs.
But let us two, drinking and feasting in the hut,
take pleasure in each other's wretched sorrows,
remembering them; for a man takes pleasure even in griefs,
whoever has suffered very much and wandered much.
And this I will tell you, what you ask me and question me about.
There is an island called Syrie, if perhaps you have heard of it,
above Ortygia, where the sun turns;
it is not very crowded, not that much, but it is good,
good for grazing, good for flocks, full of wine, rich in wheat.
Hunger never comes on the people, nor is any other
hateful sickness ever upon the wretched mortals;
but when the tribes of men grow old in the city,
silver-bowed Apollo comes with Artemis
and, attacking with his gentle arrows, kills them.
There are two cities, and everything is divided between them;
and over both of them my father was king,
Ctesius, son of Ormenus, like the immortals.
There came Phoenician men, famous for their ships,
greedy traders, bringing countless trinkets in a black ship.
There was a Phoenician woman in my father's house,
tall and beautiful, and skilled in splendid work;
and the Phoenicians, full of tricks, seduced her.
One of them first lay with her beside the hollow ship,
in bed and in love, the things that beguile the minds
of women, even if one is good at her work.
Then he asked who she was and where she had come from;
and she at once told him about her father's high-roofed house:
I claim to be from Sidon, rich in bronze,
and I am the daughter of Arybas, abundantly wealthy;
but Taphian raiders seized me
as I was coming from the fields, and they brought me here and sold me
to this man's house; and he paid a worthy price.
Then the man who had lain with her in secret said to her:
Would you now come back home again with us,
so that you may see your father's and mother's high-roofed house
and them too? For they are still alive and are called wealthy.
Then the woman answered him and said:
That could be, sailors, if you would be willing
to bind yourselves by oath to take me home unharmed.
So she spoke, and they all swore as she asked.
But when they had sworn and finished the oath,
the woman spoke among them again and said:
Now keep quiet; let none of your comrades speak to me
with words, whether met in the street
or at the spring; in case someone goes to the old man's house
and tells him, and he, suspecting, ties me up
in painful bonds and plans destruction for you.
But keep the word in mind, and hurry on the price of the goods.
But when the ship is full of goods,
let a message come quickly to me at the house;
for I will bring gold too, whatever comes into my hands;
and I would willingly give other passage-money too.
For I am raising in the halls the son of a good man,
a clever one indeed, who runs about outside with me;
I could bring him onto the ship, and he would fetch you a huge price
wherever you sell him among men of other tongues.
So she spoke and went off to the fine house,
and they, staying there with us a whole year,
traded much goods in the hollow ship.
But when the hollow ship was loaded for them to sail,
then they sent a messenger, to tell the woman.
A man skilled in many things came to my father's house
carrying a golden necklace, strung with amber beads.
In the hall the maids and my honored mother
handled it with their hands and looked at it with their eyes,
offering a price; and he nodded to her in silence.
He, having nodded, had gone to the hollow ship,
and she took me by the hand and led me out of the house.
In the forecourt she found both cups and tables
of the feasting men, who were attending my father.
They had gone to the council seat and the assembly of the people,
but she quickly hid three cups in her bosom
and carried them out; and I followed in my foolishness.
The sun set and all the streets grew shadowy;
and we came quickly to the famous harbor,
where the swift ship of the Phoenician men was.
Then they went aboard and sailed the watery paths,
taking us two aboard; and Zeus sent a fair wind.
Six days alike we sailed, nights and days;
but when Zeus, son of Cronos, brought on the seventh day,
then Artemis the arrow-pourer struck the woman,
and she fell with a thud into the bilge, like a sea gull.
And they threw her overboard to become prey for seals and fish;
but I was left behind with a grieving heart;
and wind and water carried them on and brought them near Ithaca,
where Laertes bought me with his own goods.
That is how I came to see this land with my own eyes.
Then god-born Odysseus answered him and said:
Eumaeus, truly you have stirred the spirit in my heart
by telling me all these things, all the griefs you have suffered in your heart.
But Zeus has set good alongside evil for you,
since after much toil you came to the house of a kind man
who provides you food and drink
kindly, and you live a good life; but I
have come here wandering over many cities of men.
So they spoke such things to one another,
and lay down to sleep for no long time, but only briefly;
for soon fair-throned Dawn came. And the comrades of Telemachus on the land
untied the sails and took down the mast
quickly, and rowed the ship into the mooring;
they threw out the anchor stones and tied the stern cables fast;
and they themselves went out onto the breaking surf of the sea,
and prepared a meal and mixed the flaming wine.
But when they had had enough of drink and food,
wise Telemachus began to speak among them:
You now drive the black ship to the city,
but I will go to the fields and the herdsmen;
in the evening I will come down to the city after seeing my farm.
And at dawn I will set out provisions for your journey,
a good feast of meat and sweet wine.
Then godlike Theoclymenus said to him:
Where shall I go, dear child? Whose house shall I come to,
of the men who rule over rocky Ithaca?
Shall I go straight to your mother and your house?
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
In other circumstances I would tell you to come
to our house; for there is no lack of hospitality; but for you yourself it is
worse, since I will be away, and my mother
will not see you; for she does not often
show herself among the suitors in the house, but away from them she weaves her web upstairs.
But I will point out another man for you to go to,
Eurymachus, the shining son of wise Polybus,
whom the Ithacans now look upon as equal to a god;
for he is by far the best man, and he is most eager
to marry my mother and to have the honor of Odysseus.
But Olympian Zeus knows these things, who dwells in the upper air,
whether he will bring a day of evil on them before the marriage.
As he spoke, a bird flew on the right,
a hawk, the swift messenger of Apollo; in its talons
it was plucking a dove, and it scattered the feathers to the ground
between the ship and Telemachus himself.
Theoclymenus called him aside from his comrades
and clung to his hand and spoke a word and called him by name:
Telemachus, that bird did not fly on the right without a god;
for I knew it was an omen when I looked at it face to face.
There is no other family more royal than yours
in the land of Ithaca, but you are always strong.
Then wise Telemachus answered him:
If only, stranger, this word were fulfilled;
then you would soon know friendship and many gifts
from me, so that anyone meeting you would call you blessed.
He spoke, and called to Piraeus, his trusty comrade:
Piraeus, son of Clytius, you who above all
my comrades who followed me to Pylos obey me in other things;
now too take this stranger and in your house
welcome him kindly and honor him, until I come.
Then Piraeus, famous for the spear, answered him:
Telemachus, even if you stayed here a long time,
I would care for this man, and he will have no lack of hospitality.
So saying, he went aboard the ship and told his comrades
to go aboard themselves and untie the stern cables.
And they quickly went aboard and sat down at the benches.
And Telemachus tied fair sandals under his feet,
and took a stout spear, sharpened with keen bronze,
from the ship's deck; and they untied the stern cables.
They pushed off and sailed toward the city, as Telemachus had ordered,
the dear son of godlike Odysseus;
and his feet carried him swiftly striding on until he reached the farmyard,
where the swineherd,
a good man, lived, kindly minded toward his masters.

### Book 16

In the hut Odysseus and the noble swineherd
were getting breakfast ready at dawn, after lighting a fire,
and they sent out the herdsmen with the pigs that had been gathered.
The loud-barking dogs fawned around Telemachus
and did not bark at him as he came near. Noble Odysseus noticed
that the dogs were fawning, and the sound of feet reached him.
At once he spoke winged words to Eumaeus:
Eumaeus, some friend of yours is surely coming here,
or some other person you know, since the dogs are not barking
but fawning around him; and I hear the thud of feet.
He had not yet finished the whole sentence when his dear son
stood in the doorway. The swineherd jumped up in astonishment,
and the bowls he was working with fell from his hands
as he mixed the fiery wine. He went to meet his master
and kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes
and both his hands; and a big warm tear fell from him.
Just as a father, loving his son, welcomes him warmly
when he comes back in the tenth year from a distant land,
an only late-born son, for whom he has suffered many sorrows,
so then the noble swineherd kissed godlike Telemachus
all over, clinging to him, as one escaped from death;
and weeping he spoke winged words:
You have come, Telemachus, sweet light. I never thought
I would see you again, after you sailed to Pylos.
But come in now, dear child, so that in my heart
I may enjoy looking at you, newly arrived from somewhere else.
You do not often come out to the farm or to the herdsmen,
but you stay in town; that is what has pleased your heart,
to watch the deadly crowd of suitors.
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him:
That is how it will be, sir; it is because of you that I have come here,
so that I may see you with my eyes and hear you speak,
whether my mother is still waiting in the halls for me, or whether some other
man has already married her, and Odysseus' bed
lies empty of blankets, covered with ugly cobwebs.
Then the swineherd, leader of men, answered him:
She is still waiting, with an enduring heart,
in your halls; but her miserable nights and days
always waste away, as she sheds tears.
After saying this he took the bronze spear from him;
and he went inside and stepped over the stone threshold.
As he came in, his father Odysseus gave up his seat to him;
but Telemachus from the other side stopped him and said:
Sit, stranger; we will find a seat somewhere else
in our own farm; there is a man here who will set one out.
So he spoke, and he went back and sat down; and the swineherd
spread green brushwood under him and a fleece on top;
then Odysseus' dear son sat down there.
The swineherd set before them platters of roast meat
that they had left over from eating the day before,
and he hurriedly piled up bread in baskets,
and in an ivy-wood cup he mixed honey-sweet wine;
and he himself sat down facing godlike Odysseus.
They reached out their hands to the ready food set before them.
When they had satisfied their desire for drink and food,
then Telemachus spoke to the noble swineherd:
Sir, where did this stranger come to you from? How did sailors
bring him to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be?
I certainly do not think he got here on foot.
Answering him, you said, Eumaeus the swineherd:
Then I will tell you the whole truth, child.
He claims his family is from broad Crete,
and he says he has wandered around many cities of men
in his roaming; that is how some god spun it for him.
And now, after escaping from a ship of Thesprotian men,
he has come to my farm, and I will hand him over to you;
do as you wish; he claims to be your suppliant.
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him:
Eumaeus, that is a heart-grieving thing you have said;
for how am I to take this stranger into my house?
I myself am young and do not yet trust my hands
to fight off a man when someone provokes me first;
and my mother's heart in her chest is torn two ways,
whether to stay here with me and manage the house,
respecting her husband's bed and what people say,
or to follow whichever of the Achaeans is best
and courts her in the halls and offers the most.
But this stranger, since he has come to your house,
I will dress him in a cloak and tunic, fine clothes,
and I will give him a two-edged sword and sandals for his feet,
and send him wherever his heart and spirit tell him.
If you want, you can keep him here, holding him at the farm;
and I will send clothes here and all his food
to eat, so that he does not wear you and your friends out.
I would not let him go over there among the suitors;
for they are outrageously arrogant;
they might mock him, and that would be terrible grief for me.
And it is hard for a man, even a strong one,
to get anything done among more men, since they are far stronger.
Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:
Friend, since it is proper for me to answer too,
truly my dear heart is torn apart as I listen
to you saying that the suitors recklessly plot
in the halls, against your will, when you are the man you are.
Tell me, are you subdued willingly, or do the people
hate you across the land, following some god's voice,
or do you have a complaint against your brothers, whom a man
trusts when they fight, even if a great quarrel arises?
If only I were as young as my spirit here,
either a son of blameless Odysseus or Odysseus himself;
then let some stranger cut off my head at once
if I did not become a curse to all of them,
coming into the hall of Odysseus, son of Laertes.
But if they overcame me with their numbers while I was alone,
I would rather be killed in my own halls
and die than always watch these shameful deeds:
strangers being roughly handled, and slave women
dragged shamefully through the fine halls,
and wine being wasted, and food being eaten
for nothing, uselessly, with no end to the work.
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him:
Then I will tell you quite exactly, stranger.
The whole people is not angry with me in hatred,
nor do I blame my brothers, whom a man
trusts when they fight, even if a great quarrel arises.
For the son of Cronos made our family a single line:
Arceisius fathered only Laertes as a son,
and Laertes in turn fathered only Odysseus; and Odysseus
fathered only me in the halls and left me, and had no benefit from me.
So now there are countless enemies in my house.
For as many lords as rule over the islands,
Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus,
and as many as are lords over rocky Ithaca,
that many court my mother, and they wear out my house.
And she neither refuses the hateful marriage nor is able
to bring it to an end; and they wear away my house
by eating; and soon they will destroy me too.
But these things lie on the knees of the gods.
Sir, you go quickly and tell wise Penelope
that I am safe and have come back from Pylos.
But I will stay here, and you come back here,
after telling her alone; and let no other of the Achaeans
hear about it; for many are plotting evil against me.
Answering him, you said, Eumaeus the swineherd:
I know, I understand; you are telling someone who understands.
But come, tell me this too and tell it exactly:
should I also go to Laertes as a messenger on that same road,
the poor man, who until now, grieving greatly for Odysseus,
used to keep an eye on the work, and in the house among the servants
drank and ate whenever his heart in his chest told him to;
but now, since you sailed to Pylos,
they say he no longer eats and drinks the same way,
nor looks at the work, but with groaning and wailing
he sits and mourns, and the flesh wastes away from his bones.
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him:
It is worse, but even so let us leave him, grieving as we are;
for if mortals could choose everything for themselves,
we would first choose the day of my father's return.
But you go back after giving the message, and do not
wander through the fields after him; but tell my mother's
housekeeper to tell her as quickly as possible,
secretly; for she could report it to the old man.
So he spoke and roused the swineherd; and he took sandals in his hands,
tied them under his feet, and went to the city. And Athena did not
fail to notice Eumaeus the swineherd leaving the farm,
but she came near; in body she was like a woman,
beautiful and tall and skilled in glorious handiwork.
She stood at the front doorway of the hut, appearing to Odysseus;
and Telemachus did not see her face to face or notice her,
for the gods do not appear clearly to everyone,
but Odysseus and the dogs saw her, and they did not bark,
but with a whimper they fled to the other side through the farm.
And she nodded with her eyebrows; noble Odysseus noticed,
and went out of the hut past the great wall of the courtyard,
and stood in front of her; and Athena spoke to him:
Zeus-born son of Laertes, much-devising Odysseus,
now at once speak to your son and do not hide it,
so that the two of you, planning death and doom for the suitors,
may go to the famous city; and I myself
will not be far from you two, eager for the fight.
So she spoke, and Athena touched him with a golden wand.
First she put a well-washed cloak and tunic
around his chest, and increased his size and youthfulness.
And he became dark-skinned again, and his jaws grew broad,
and a dark beard grew around his chin.
She did this and went back; but Odysseus
went into the hut; and his dear son was amazed at him,
and in fear he threw his eyes aside, in case he was a god,
and speaking to him he said winged words:
You look different to me now than before, stranger,
and you are wearing different clothes, and your skin is no longer the same.
Surely you are some god, one of those who hold the wide heaven;
but be merciful, so that we may give you pleasing sacrifices
and golden gifts, well made; and spare us.
Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:
I am no god; why do you compare me to the immortals?
But I am your father, for whose sake you groan
and suffer many sorrows, putting up with the violence of men.
So saying, he kissed his son, and down his cheeks
he let a tear fall to the ground; before, he had always held it back.
But Telemachus, because he still did not believe he was his father,
again answered him and said:
You are not Odysseus, my father, but some god
is bewitching me, so that I may mourn and groan even more.
For no mortal man could plan these things
with his own mind, unless a god himself came
and easily, at will, made him young or old.
A moment ago you were an old man and wore shameful clothes;
but now you are like the gods, who hold the wide heaven.
Answering him, much-devising Odysseus said:
Telemachus, it is not right for you to be amazed
beyond measure or astonished that your dear father is here;
for no other Odysseus will come here again,
but here I am, just as I am, after suffering evils and much wandering,
and I have come in the twentieth year to my native land.
This is the work of Athena, driver of the spoil,
who made me as she wants; she can do it,
sometimes like a beggar, and sometimes again
like a young man wearing fine clothes on his skin.
It is easy for the gods, who hold the wide heaven,
both to make a mortal man glorious and to ruin him.
So saying, he sat down, and Telemachus
threw his arms around his noble father and wept, shedding tears,
and in both of them the desire to wail arose;
they wept loudly, more thickly than birds,
sea-eagles or hook-clawed vultures, whose young
country people have taken away before they can fly;
so they shed a pitiful tear under their brows.
And the light of the sun would have set on them as they mourned,
if Telemachus had not quickly spoken to his father:
In what kind of ship, dear father, did sailors now bring you
here to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be?
I certainly do not think you got here on foot.
Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:
Then I will tell you the truth, child.
The Phaeacians, famous for ships, brought me, the ones who also
send other men, whoever comes to them;
and while I slept in their swift ship over the sea, carrying me
they set me down in Ithaca, and gave me glorious gifts,
bronze and gold in plenty and woven clothing.
And these lie in the caves by the will of the gods.
And now I have come here on Athena's instructions,
so that we may plan murder against our enemies.
But come, count up the suitors and tell them to me,
so that I may know how many they are and what kind of men they are;
and I will consider it in my blameless heart
and figure out whether we two can stand against them
alone, without others, or whether we should look for others.
Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him:
Father, I always heard of your great fame,
that your hands are warlike and your counsel wise.
But you have said far too much; amazement takes hold of me; and it cannot be
that two men fight against many and strong enemies.
And of the suitors there is not a sure ten or just two,
but many more; and soon you will learn their number here.
From Dulichium there are fifty-two
picked young men, and six servants follow them;
and from Same there are twenty-four men,
and from Zacynthus there are twenty young men of the Achaeans,
and from Ithaca itself twelve, all of them the best,
and along with them is Medon the herald and a godlike poet
and two servants, skilled in carving meat.
If we meet all of these inside,
be careful that you do not come and pay a very bitter and dreadful price for your violence.
But come, if you can think of some defender,
consider who might defend us two with a willing heart.
Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:
So I will speak, and you pay attention and hear me:
and tell whether Athena with father Zeus
will be enough for us, or whether I should think of some other defender.
Then wise Telemachus answered him in turn:
These two you speak of are good defenders,
even though they sit high in the clouds; and they have power over other
men and over the immortal gods.
Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:
Those two certainly will not be apart for a long time
from the strong battle, when between the suitors and us
in my halls the fury of Ares is decided.
But you now go, as dawn appears,
home, and mix with the arrogant suitors;
and the swineherd will bring me later to the town,
like a wretched beggar and an old man.
And if they dishonor me through the house, let your own dear heart
endure it in your chest, while I suffer badly,
even if they drag me by the feet through the house and out the door
or throw things at me; you look on and endure it.
But indeed you should tell them to stop their foolishness,
speaking to them with gentle words; but they will not
be persuaded; for the day of their fate stands near.
And another thing I will tell you, and put it in your heart:
when Athena of many counsels puts it in your mind,
I will nod to you with my head, and then you, noticing,
as many of the warlike weapons as lie in the halls,
take them up and put them in the recess of the high chamber,
all of them; and the suitors with soft words
put off, when they ask you about them, wanting them;
say you put them away from the smoke, since they no longer looked like
what Odysseus left behind when he went to Troy,
but they are tarnished as far as the smoke of the fire reached.
And on top of that the son of Cronos put this greater thing in my mind,
that somehow, drunk, having started a quarrel among you,
you might wound each other and shame the feast
and the wooing; for iron itself draws a man on.
And for us two alone let two swords and two spears
be left, and two shields to take in our hands,
so that we may rush and seize them; and then
Pallas Athena will charm them, and Zeus the counselor.
And another thing I will tell you, and put it in your heart:
if you are truly mine and of our blood,
let no one then hear that Odysseus is inside,
neither let Laertes know it, nor the swineherd,
nor any of the household, nor Penelope herself,
but let you and I alone learn the mind of the women;
and we might also test some of the male slaves,
both where someone honors us two and fears in his heart,
and where someone does not care, and dishonors you though you are such a man.
Then his glorious son answered him and said:
Father, you will also know my heart after this, I think,
for no slackness of mind holds me;
but I do not think this will be a gain
for us both; and I tell you to think about it.
For you will learn for a long time going around testing each man,
going among the work; and they in the halls at ease
devour the goods violently, and there is no sparing.
But I tell you to find out about the women,
which ones dishonor you and which are blameless;
but among the men in the farmsteads I would not
want us to test them, but these things to be dealt with later,
if you truly know some sign from aegis-bearing Zeus.
So these two spoke such things to each other,
and meanwhile the well-built ship was coming down to Ithaca,
which carried Telemachus from Pylos and all his comrades.
And when they came inside the deep harbor,
they dragged the black ship up on the land,
and the high-spirited servants carried away their weapons,
and at once they brought the very beautiful gifts to the house of Clytius.
And they sent a herald to the house of Odysseus,
to tell the message to wise Penelope,
that Telemachus was in the country, and had ordered the ship
to sail back to the city, so that she might not, in fear in her heart,
the noble queen, shed a tender tear.
And the herald and the noble swineherd met each other
for the same message, to tell it to the woman.
But when they came to the house of the godlike king,
the herald spoke among the serving women:
Queen, your dear son has already come.
And the swineherd, standing near, told Penelope
everything that her dear son had told him to say.
And when he had told the whole message,
he went to the pigs, and left the yard and the hall.
And the suitors were distressed and downcast in their hearts,
and they came out of the hall past the great wall of the courtyard,
and sat down right in front of the doors.
And Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak to them:
Friends, this journey of his has been accomplished, a great and arrogant deed,
and we said it would not happen for Telemachus.
But come, let us drag down the best black ship we have,
and gather rowing seamen, who may most quickly
tell those men to hurry home.
Not everything had been said, when Amphinomus saw the ship,
turning from his place, inside the deep harbor,
with men furling sails and holding oars in their hands.
And laughing sweetly he spoke to his comrades:
Let us no longer urge on any message; for these men are inside.
Either some god told them this, or they themselves saw
the ship passing by, and could not catch it.
So he spoke, and they stood up and went to the shore of the sea,
and at once dragged the black ship up on the land,
and the high-spirited servants carried away their weapons.
And they themselves went in a crowd to the assembly, and would not allow any other
either of the young or the old to sit among them.
And Antinous spoke among them, son of Eupeithes:
Alas, how the gods have freed this man from his misery.
By day the watchers sat on the windy heights,
always one after another; and at sunset
we never spent the night on land, but on the sea
sailing in a swift ship we waited for the bright Dawn,
lying in wait for Telemachus, so that we might seize and kill him;
but meanwhile a god brought him home,
and let us here plan a miserable death
for Telemachus, and let him not escape us; for I do not think
that while this man lives these deeds will be accomplished.
For he himself is knowledgeable in counsel and in mind,
and the people no longer altogether bring goodwill to us.
But come, before that man gathers the Achaeans
into assembly—for I do not think he will let it go,
but he will be furious, and standing up will say before everyone
that we plotted sheer murder against him and did not accomplish it;
and they will not approve when they hear of evil deeds;
lest they do some harm and drive us out
of our land, and we come to the land of others;
but let us kill him, seizing him in the country away from the city,
or on the road; and let us ourselves keep his livelihood and property,
dividing it fairly among us, and the house
let us give to his mother to keep, and to whoever marries her.
But if this word displeases you, and you would rather
that he live and keep all his father's goods,
then let us not give him goods, pleasant and plentiful,
gathering here, but from the hall let each man
woo her, seeking her with gifts; and she may then
marry whoever gives the most and is fated to come.
So he spoke, and they all became silent in quiet.
And Amphinomus spoke among them and said,
the glorious son of Nisus, lord Aretiades,
who from Dulichium, rich in wheat and grassy,
led the suitors, and most pleased Penelope
with his words; for he had good sense;
he, well-minded toward them, spoke and said:
Friends, I would not want to kill
Telemachus; for it is a dreadful thing to kill the royal race;
but first let us ask the counsels of the gods.
If the decrees of great Zeus approve,
I myself will kill him and order all the others to do so;
but if the gods turn us away, I tell you to stop.
So spoke Amphinomus, and his word pleased them.
At once then they stood up and went to the house of Odysseus,
and when they came they sat down on the polished seats.
And wise Penelope thought of another thing,
to appear before the suitors in their arrogant violence.
For she had learned of the destruction of her son in the halls;
for the herald Medon told her, who had learned of their plans.
And she went to the hall with her serving women.
But when the shining one among women came to the suitors,
she stood by the doorpost of the well-built roof,
holding her shining veil before her cheeks,
and she rebuked Antinous, and spoke a word and called him by name:
Antinous, full of arrogance, evil plotter, and they say that you
among the people of Ithaca, among your fellows, are the best
in counsel and in words; but you are not such a man.
Madman, why do you weave death and doom
for Telemachus, and do not care about suppliants, for whom Zeus
is witness? Nor is it holy to weave evils against one another.
Do you not know when your father came here fleeing,
afraid of the people? For they were very angry,
because he had followed the Taphian pirates
and harmed the Thesprotians; and they were friends with us;
and they wanted to destroy him and tear out his dear heart
and eat up his plentiful, heart-pleasing livelihood;
but Odysseus held them back and stopped them, eager as they were.
Now you devour his house in dishonor, and woo his wife
and kill his son, and grieve me greatly;
but I tell you to stop, and to tell the others too.
Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her:
Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,
take courage; let these things not trouble your heart.
There is no such man, nor will there be, nor will he be born,
who will lay hands on Telemachus your son,
while I am alive and looking on the earth.
For I will speak out, and surely it will be accomplished:
quickly his black blood will flow around my own spear,
since Odysseus, sacker of cities, once
many times set me on his knees and put roast meat
in my hands, and held the red wine to me.
Therefore Telemachus is by far the dearest to me of all
men, and I tell him not to fear death at all
from the suitors; but from the gods there is no escaping.
So he spoke, encouraging her, but he himself was preparing his destruction.
And she went up to the shining upper chambers
and wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until on her eyelids
bright-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep.
In the evening the noble swineherd came to Odysseus and his son;
and they made ready supper standing by,
having sacrificed a year-old boar. But Athena,
standing near, struck Odysseus, son of Laertes,
with a rod and made him an old man again,
and dressed him in wretched clothes on his body, so that the swineherd
would not recognize him looking at him, and would not go to wise Penelope
and report, nor keep it in his thoughts.
And Telemachus spoke to him first:
You have come, noble Eumaeus. What then is the talk in the city?
Are the proud suitors already inside
from the ambush, or are they still watching for me as I come home?
And answering him you said, Eumaeus the swineherd:
I did not care to ask and inquire about these things
as I went down to the city; my heart bade me most quickly
tell my message and come back here again.
And a swift messenger went with me from your comrades,
a herald, who was the first to speak a word to your mother.
And another thing I know; for I saw it with my eyes.
Already above the city, where the hill of Hermes is,
I was going, when I saw a swift ship coming down
into our harbor; and there were many men in it,
and it was heavy with shields and two-edged spears;
and I thought they were those men, but I do not know for sure.
So he spoke, and the sacred strength of Telemachus smiled,
looking with his eyes at his father, and avoided the swineherd's notice.
But when they had stopped their work and made ready the feast,
they feasted, and their heart did not lack an equal share of the feast.
But when they had put away their desire for drink and food,
they thought of bed and took the gift of sleep.

### Book 17

When early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
then Telemachos tied the beautiful sandals on his feet,
the dear son of godlike Odysseus,
and he took up a strong spear that fitted his hands,
eager for the city, and he spoke to his swineherd:
Friend, I am going into the city, so that my mother
can see me; for I don't think she will stop before then
from hateful wailing and tearful grieving,
until she sees me myself; but I give you this order.
Lead this poor stranger into the city, so that there
he can beg for his dinner; and whoever wants to will give him
a loaf and a cup; for I can't possibly put up with
all men, even though I have sorrows in my heart;
and the stranger, even if he's very angry, it will be
worse for him; for truly I like to speak the truth.
Then many-minded Odysseus answered him:
Friend, I myself am not eager to be held back;
for a beggar it's better through the town than through the fields
to beg his dinner; and whoever wants to will give to me.
For I'm not of an age to stay at the farmsteads any longer,
so as to obey a master in everything when he gives orders.
But go on; and this man you tell will lead me
right away, once the warmth and heat of the fire come.
For these clothes I wear are terribly bad; may the morning
frost not overcome me; and they say the town is far off.
So he spoke, and Telemachos had gone through the farmstead,
stepping quickly with his feet, and he was planting evils for the suitors.
But when he reached the well-built house,
he stood the spear he was carrying against a tall pillar,
and he himself went inside and crossed the stone threshold.
And the nurse Eurykleia saw him first, far before the others,
spreading hides on the cunningly made chairs,
and weeping she went straight to him; and around him the other
slave women of steadfast Odysseus gathered,
and they kissed his head and shoulders, welcoming him.
And wise Penelope came out of her bedroom,
like Artemis or golden Aphrodite,
and she threw her arms around her dear son, weeping,
and she kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes,
and lamenting she spoke winged words to him:
You have come, Telemachos, sweet light. I said
I would never see you again, since you went by ship to Pylos
in secret, against my will, to hear news of your dear father.
But come, tell me how you met with the sight of him.
And prudent Telemachos answered her:
My mother, don't start wailing for me, and don't stir
my heart in my breast, though I've escaped sheer destruction;
but bathe yourself and put clean clothes on your body,
and going up to your upper room with your attendant women,
pray to all the gods that you will make
perfect hecatombs, in case Zeus somehow accomplishes deeds of repayment.
But I will go to the assembly, so that I can call
the stranger, whoever followed with me here as I came.
I sent him on ahead with my godlike companions,
and I told Peiraios to lead him to his house
and to treat him kindly and honor him, until I come.
So she spoke, and the word was wingless for her.
And she bathed and put clean clothes on her body,
and prayed to all the gods that she would make
perfect hecatombs, in case Zeus somehow accomplishes deeds of repayment.
And Telemachos had then gone through the great hall
holding his spear; and with him two swift dogs followed.
And Athene poured wondrous grace over him;
and all the people marveled at him as he came.
And around him the lordly suitors gathered,
saying good things, but in their hearts brooding evils.
But he avoided their great crowd,
and went where Mentor sat and Antiphos and Halitherses,
who had been his father's companions from the start,
and there he went and sat down; and they questioned him about everything.
And Peiraios, famous for the spear, came near them,
leading the stranger to the assembly through the town; and no longer
did Telemachos turn away from the stranger, but stood beside him.
And Peiraios first spoke a word to him:
Telemachos, quickly urge the women to my house,
so that I can send on the gifts that Menelaos gave you.
And prudent Telemachos answered him:
Peiraios, for we don't know how these things will be.
If the lordly suitors kill me in the halls
in secret and divide up all my father's goods,
I would rather you yourself enjoyed them than one of these men;
but if I plant slaughter and death for these men,
then bring them to my house rejoicing, and I will rejoice too.
So saying, he led the much-suffering stranger to his house.
But when they reached the well-built house,
they laid their cloaks on the couches and chairs,
and stepping into the well-polished bathtubs they washed.
And when the slave women had bathed them and rubbed them with oil,
and thrown shaggy cloaks and tunics around them,
they stepped out of the bathtubs and sat down on the chairs.
And a slave woman poured water for the hands from a pitcher she brought,
a beautiful golden one, over a silver basin,
so they could wash; and beside them she set out a polished table.
And the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread,
adding many foods, giving freely of what was there.
And his mother sat opposite, beside the doorpost of the hall,
leaning on a chair, spinning fine threads of wool.
And they stretched their hands to the ready food set before them,
but when they had put away their desire for drink and food,
then wise Penelope began the talk among them:
Telemachos, truly I, going up to my upper room,
will lie down on my bed, which has been made woeful for me,
always drenched with my tears, since Odysseus
went off with the sons of Atreus to Ilios; and you didn't dare,
before the lordly suitors came to this house,
to tell me clearly of your father's homecoming, if you heard it anywhere.
And prudent Telemachos answered her:
Then, mother, I will tell you the truth.
We went to Pylos and to Nestor, shepherd of the people;
and he received me in his lofty halls
and entertained me kindly, just as a father his own son
who comes home after a long time, newly from somewhere else; so he
kindly cared for me with his glorious sons.
But about steadfast Odysseus he never said
that he had heard news from any mortal, alive or dead;
but he sent me on to the son of Atreus, Menelaos famous for the spear,
with horses and well-joined chariots.
There I saw Argive Helen, for whose sake many
Argives and Trojans toiled by the will of the gods.
And right away Menelaos, good at the war-cry, asked
what need had brought me to shining Lakedaimon;
and I told him the whole truth;
and then he answered me with words and said:
Ah me, truly they wanted to lie in the bed
of a strong-hearted man, cowards that they are.
Just as when in a thicket a hind of a mighty lion
has lulled her newborn, milk-fed fawns to sleep,
and searches the glens and grassy hollows
as she grazes, and then he enters his own lair,
and on both of them he sends an unseemly doom,
so will Odysseus send an unseemly doom on those men.
If only, father Zeus and Athene and Apollo,
being such as he was when once in well-built Lesbos
he rose up and wrestled in a contest with Philomeleides,
and threw him mightily, and all the Achaeans rejoiced,
being such, Odysseus might consort with the suitors;
they would all become short-lived and bitterly married.
But the things you ask and beg of me, I for my part
would not say anything else, turning aside, nor would I deceive you,
but just as the old man of the sea, truthful, told me,
I will hide no word of it from you nor conceal it.
He said he saw him on an island, having mighty griefs,
in the halls of the nymph Kalypso, who by necessity
holds him; and he cannot reach his own fatherland.
For he has no oared ships at hand and no companions,
who might send him over the broad back of the sea.
So spoke the son of Atreus, Menelaos famous for the spear.
Having finished this I came back; and the immortals gave me
a fair wind, which quickly sent me to my dear fatherland.
So he spoke, and stirred the spirit in her breast.
And godlike Theoklymenos also spoke among them:
Revered lady, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,
truly he doesn't know clearly; but hear my word;
for I will prophesy to you exactly and will not conceal it.
Let Zeus be witness now, first of the gods, and the stranger's table
and the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have reached,
that truly Odysseus is already in his fatherland,
sitting or creeping, learning of these evil deeds;
he is here, and he is planting evil for all the suitors.
Such a bird omen I marked, sitting
on the well-benched ship, and I called it out to Telemachos.
And wise Penelope answered him:
If only, stranger, this word might be accomplished;
then you would soon know friendship and many gifts
from me, so that whoever met you would call you blessed.
So they said such things to each other,
and the suitors in front of Odysseus' hall
took pleasure in quoits and in throwing javelins
on the leveled floor, where they had been insolent before.
But when it was dinner-time and the flocks came
from the fields on every side, and those who had brought them before,
then Medon spoke to them; for he pleased them most
of the heralds, and was present at their feasting:
Young men, since you have all delighted your hearts with contests,
come to the house, so that we may prepare the feast;
for it is no worse to take dinner in season.
So he spoke, and they rose up and went, obeying the word.
But when they reached the well-built house,
they laid their cloaks on the couches and chairs,
and they sacrificed great sheep and fat goats,
they sacrificed boars rich with fat and a cow from the herd,
preparing the feast. And from the field toward the town
Odysseus and the godlike swineherd hurried to go.
And the swineherd began the talk among them, leader of men:
Stranger, since you are eager to go to the town
today, as my master commanded—truly I for my part
would want to leave you here as guardian of the farmstead;
but I fear and dread him, in case afterward
he reproaches me; hard are the rebukes of masters—
but come now, let's go; for the day has come on a lot,
and soon toward evening it will be colder.
And many-minded Odysseus answered him:
I know, I understand; you advise as a thoughtful man would.
But let's go, and you lead the way all along.
And give me, if you have a cut club anywhere,
to lean on, since you said the path is slippery.
So he spoke, and threw his unseemly pouch over his shoulders,
full of holes; and there was a twisted strap on it;
and Eumaios gave him a staff dear to his heart.
The two went on, and the dogs and the herdsmen
guarded the farmstead behind them, staying; but he led the master to the town
like a wretched beggar and an old man,
leaning on a staff; and he wore wretched clothes on his skin.
But when, walking along the rugged road,
they were near the town and came to the spring
built and fair-flowing, from which the townsfolk drew water,
which Ithakos made and Neritos and Polyktor;
and around it was a grove of water-fed poplars,
all around in a circle, and cold water flowed down
from above out of a rock; and above it an altar had been built
to the nymphs, where all wayfarers made offerings;
there the son of Dolios, Melanthios, came upon them,
leading goats, which stood out among all the herds,
for the suitors' dinner; and two herdsmen followed with him.
Seeing them he reviled them, and spoke a word and named them,
outrageously and shamefully; and he stirred the heart of Odysseus:
Now truly a base man leads a base man,
as always a god leads like to like.
Where then are you leading this greedy-belly, wretched swineherd,
a tiresome beggar, a scrubber of feasts?
One who, standing by many doorposts, will rub his shoulders,
begging for scraps, not swords or cauldrons;
him, if you gave him to me to be guardian of the farmstead
and to tend the pens and carry leaves for the kids,
drinking whey he might make himself a great thigh.
But since he has learned base works, he won't want
to go about any work, but skulking through the district
he wants to beg and feed his insatiable belly.
But I tell you this, and it will also be accomplished:
if he comes to the house of godlike Odysseus,
many footstools from the hands of men
around his head will rub his ribs as he is thrown through the house.
So he spoke, and as he passed he kicked him in his folly
on the hip; but he didn't push him off the path,
but he stood firm; and Odysseus pondered
whether, rushing at him with a club, he should take his life,
or should dash his head to the ground, lifting it up on both sides.
But he endured it and restrained himself; and the swineherd
reviled him, looking him in the face, and prayed greatly, raising his hands:
Nymphs of the springs, daughters of Zeus, if ever Odysseus
burned fat thighs for you, covered with rich fat,
from lambs and kids, fulfill this wish for me:
that that man may come, and a god may lead him;
then he would scatter all your finery,
which you now carry in your insolence, always wandering
through the town; but bad herdsmen destroy the flocks.
And Melanthios answered him, the goatherd of goats:
Ah me, how the dog speaks, knowing deadly things!
One day I will take him on a black, well-benched ship
far from Ithaka, so that he may fetch me much profit.
If only silver-bowed Apollo would strike Telemachos
today in the halls, or he be brought down by the suitors,
as the day of Odysseus' homecoming perished far away.
So saying he left them, walking slowly there,
but he went on, and very quickly reached the master's house.
Right away he went inside and sat down among the suitors,
opposite Eurymachos; for he loved him most.
Beside him those who served set a portion of meat,
and the honored housekeeper brought and set out bread
to eat. And near at hand Odysseus and the godlike swineherd
stood as they came, and around them came the sound
of the hollow lyre; for among them Phemios
was beginning to sing; and he took the swineherd by the hand and said:
Eumaios, truly this is the beautiful house of Odysseus,
and it is easily recognized even seen among many.
One thing after another it is, and the courtyard is furnished
with wall and cornice, and the doors are well-fenced,
double-folding; no man could overpower it.
And I know that many men set a feast in it,
since the savor of fat has risen, and inside the lyre
rings out, which the gods made the companion of the feast.
And you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:
Easily you knew, since you're not witless in other things either.
But come, let's consider how these things will be.
Either you go in first into the well-built house,
and go among the suitors, and I will stay here;
or if you want, wait, and I will go in front;
and don't delay, in case someone notices you outside
and strikes you or drives you off; I tell you to think about these things.
And much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:
I know, I understand; you advise as a thoughtful man would.
But go in front, and I will stay here.
For I am not unacquainted with blows or wounds;
my spirit is daring, since I have suffered many evils
in waves and in war; let this be among them too;
for there is no way to hide the belly when it is eager,
accursed, which gives many evils to men,
for whose sake even well-benched ships are fitted out
over the barren sea, bringing evils to enemies.
So they said such things to each other;
and the dog lying there raised his head and his ears,
Argos, the dog of steadfast Odysseus, whom once he himself
raised, but had no joy of him, for before that to holy Ilios
he had gone. Him formerly young men used to lead out
after wild goats and deer and hares;
but then he lay neglected, his master gone,
in much dung, which before the doors
from mules and cattle was poured in abundance, until the servants
of Odysseus should lead it to the great field for manuring;
there the dog Argos lay, full of dog-ticks.
Then truly, when he perceived that Odysseus was near,
he wagged his tail and dropped both ears,
but no longer after that was he able to come near his own master;
but Odysseus looked away and wiped away a tear,
easily escaping Eumaios' notice, and right away questioned him with a word:
Eumaios, truly it is a great wonder that this dog lies in the dung.
He is beautiful in body, but this I don't know clearly,
whether he was also swift to run, matching this appearance,
or just such as the table-dogs of men
become; for masters tend them for their splendor.
And you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:
Yes indeed, this is the dog of a man who died far away.
If he were such in body and in deeds
as when Odysseus left him, going to Troy,
you would quickly marvel, seeing his speed and his strength.
For he never fled from any beast in the depths
of the deep wood, whatever he chased; for he was excellent at tracking;
but now he is held by misery, and his master has perished
elsewhere from his fatherland, and careless women don't tend him.
And servants, when masters no longer rule over them,
no longer want to do what is right;
for far-seeing Zeus takes away half
of a man's virtue, when the day of slavery seizes him.
So saying he entered the well-built house,
and went straight to the hall among the lordly suitors.
And the doom of black death took Argos,
at once, when he saw Odysseus in the twentieth year.
And godlike Telemachos saw the swineherd first, far before the others,
coming through the house, and quickly then
he nodded to him, calling him; and he looked around and took a chair
that lay there, where the carver used to sit, carving
much meat for the suitors feasting through the house;
this he brought and set near Telemachos' table,
opposite, and there he himself sat down; and a herald
took a portion and set it before him, and bread from a basket.
And close after him Odysseus entered the house,
like a wretched beggar and an old man,
leaning on a staff; and he wore wretched clothes on his skin.
And he sat down on the ash-wood threshold inside the doors,
leaning against a cypress doorpost, which a carpenter once
smoothed skillfully and set straight by the line.
And Telemachos called to him and spoke to the swineherd,
taking a whole loaf from the beautiful basket
and meat, as much as his hands could hold when he filled them:
Give these to the stranger, carrying them, and tell him himself
to beg from all the suitors, going around to each;
for shame is not good to be present with a man in need.
So he spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word,
and standing near he spoke winged words:
Telemachos gives you these, stranger, and tells you
to beg from all the suitors, going around to each;
for he says shame is not good for a begging man.
And many-minded Odysseus answered him:
Lord Zeus, may Telemachos be blessed among men,
and may all things be his, as many as he desires in his heart.
So he spoke, and with both hands he received it and set it down
there before his feet, on his unseemly pouch,
and he ate while the singer sang in the halls;
and when he had dined, the divine singer stopped.
And the suitors clamored through the hall. And Athene,
standing near, urged Laertes' son Odysseus
to gather loaves among the suitors,
and to learn who were the righteous and who the lawless;
but not even so was she going to ward off evil from any one of them.
He went to beg, going from the right, each man,
stretching out his hand on every side, as if he had long been a beggar.
And they, pitying him, gave, and marveled at him,
and asked one another who he was and where he came from.
And Melanthios also spoke among them, the goatherd of goats:
Hear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,
about this stranger; for truly I saw him before.
Indeed the swineherd led him here,
but I don't know clearly where he claims his lineage is from.
So he spoke, and Antinoos reviled the swineherd with words:
O famous swineherd, why did you lead this man
to the town? Don't we have enough other vagabonds,
tiresome beggars, scrubbers of feasts?
Do you begrudge that they eat up the master's livelihood
gathering here, and you even called this one besides?
And you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:
Antinoos, though you are noble, you speak no fair word.
For who calls a stranger from elsewhere, himself coming,
another one, unless he is one of the public workers,
a seer or a healer of ills or a carpenter of beams,
or even a divine singer, who delights by singing?
For these are the summoned ones of mortals over the boundless earth;
but no one would call a beggar who devours himself.
But you are always harsh above all the suitors
toward the servants of Odysseus, and especially toward me; but I
don't care, as long as thoughtful Penelope
lives in the halls and godlike Telemachos.
And prudent Telemachos answered him:
Be quiet, don't answer him with many words;
Antinoos is used to provoking evilly
with harsh words, and he stirs up others too.
So he spoke, and addressed winged words to Antinoos:
Antinoos, truly you care for me finely as a father for his son,
you who tell the stranger to be thrust from the hall
with a compelling word; may no god accomplish this.
Take and give to him; I don't begrudge it; indeed I tell you to.
And don't reverence my mother in this, nor any other
of the servants, who are in the house of godlike Odysseus.
But no such thought is in your breast;
for you yourself want to eat much rather than give to another.
And Antinoos answered him:
Telemachos, loud-vaunting, unrestrained in fury, what a word you have spoken.
If all the suitors would reach out so much to him,
then his house would hold him off three months.
So he spoke, and taking a footstool from beneath the table
he showed it, where he used to rest his shining feet while feasting;
and all the others gave, and they filled his pouch
with bread and meat; and soon Odysseus was about
to go again to the threshold, to taste the gifts of the Achaeans;
but he stood by Antinoos and spoke a word to him:
Give, friend; you don't seem to me to be the worst
of the Achaeans, but the best, since you look like a king.
So you ought to give even better than the others,
bread; and I will praise you over the boundless earth.
For I too once lived in a house among men,
blessed and rich, and often I gave to a wanderer,
such as he was and in whatever need he came;
and I had countless servants and many other things
with which men live well and are called rich.
But Zeus the son of Kronos destroyed it—for he wanted it somehow—
who sent me with much-wandering pirates
to go to Egypt, a long journey, so that I might perish.
I stationed my curved ships at the Egyptian river.
Then truly I told my trusty companions
to stay there by the ships and guard the ships,
and I urged scouts to go to the lookout places.
But they, yielding to insolence, following their own fury,
right away laid waste the very beautiful fields of the Egyptian men,
and led away the women and the infant children,
and killed the men themselves; and quickly a cry reached the city.
And they, hearing the shout as the dawn appeared,
came; and the whole plain was filled with footmen and horses
and the flash of bronze; and Zeus who delights in thunder
cast a base rout on my companions, and no one dared
stand against them; for evils stood around on every side.
There they killed many of us with the sharp bronze,
and led others away alive, to work for them by necessity.
But me they gave to a stranger they met in Cyprus,
to Dmetor, son of Iasos, who ruled Cyprus by force;
from there indeed I have now come here, suffering woes.
And Antinoos answered him and said:
What god brought this woe, this annoyance of the feast?
Stand there in the middle, away from my table,
in case you soon reach bitter Egypt and Cyprus;
for you are a bold and shameless beggar.
In turn you stand by everyone; and they give
at random, since there is no restraint nor pity
in giving from others' goods, since plenty is at hand for each.
And withdrawing, many-minded Odysseus said:
Ah me, so your mind doesn't match your looks;
you wouldn't give even salt to your own house-master from your house,
you who now sit by others' goods and didn't dare
to take bread and give it to me; yet much is present.
So he spoke, and Antinoos grew angrier in his heart,
and looking at him darkly he spoke winged words:
Now indeed I think you will no longer go back
fairly through the hall, since you utter reproaches too.
So he spoke, and taking a footstool he struck him on the right shoulder,
at the very bottom of his back; and he stood like a rock
firm, and the missile of Antinoos didn't make him stagger,
but silently he nodded his head, brooding evils.
And back he went and sat down on the threshold, and set down his pouch
well filled, and spoke among the suitors:
Hear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,
while I say what my spirit in my breast tells me.
There is no grief in my mind nor any sorrow
when a man is struck while fighting for his own possessions,
either for cattle or for white sheep;
but Antinoos struck me for the sake of my wretched belly,
accursed, which gives many evils to men.
But if there are gods and Furies for beggars,
may the doom of death come on Antinoos before his marriage.
And Antinoos, son of Eupeithes, answered him:
Eat in peace, stranger, sitting still, or go elsewhere,
in case the young men drag you through the house for the words you speak,
by foot or by hand, and tear you all to pieces.
So he spoke, and all of them were exceedingly indignant;
and one of the overbearing young men said:
Antinoos, you didn't strike the wretched wanderer fairly,
accursed, if there is indeed some heavenly god.
And gods, likened to foreign strangers,
taking all sorts of forms, roam the cities,
watching the insolence and the good order of men.
So the suitors spoke, but he paid no heed to their words.
And Telemachos in his heart increased great grief
at the blow, but he let no tear fall to the ground from his eyelids,
but silently he nodded his head, brooding evils.
And when wise Penelope heard of him
struck in the hall, she spoke among her slave women:
If only far-famed Apollo would strike that man himself.
And the housekeeper Eurynome spoke a word to her:
If only accomplishment would come to our prayers;
then none of these would reach the fair-throned Dawn.
And wise Penelope answered her:
Nurse, all of them are hateful, since they devise evils;
but Antinoos most of all resembles black doom.
Some wretched stranger wanders through the house
begging from men; for need compels him;
and there all the others both filled him and gave,
but this one struck his right shoulder with a footstool.
So she spoke among her slave women,
sitting in her chamber; and godlike Odysseus dined;
and she called to her and spoke to the godlike swineherd:
Go, godlike Eumaios, go and tell the stranger
to come, so that I may greet him and ask him
whether he has heard anything of steadfast Odysseus
or seen him with his eyes; for he looks like one much wandered.
And you answered him, Eumaios the swineherd:
If only, queen, the Achaeans would be silent;
such things as he tells, your dear heart would be charmed.
For I kept him three nights, and three days I detained him
in my hut; for first he came to me after escaping from his ship;
but he hasn't yet finished the misery he tells.
As when a man gazes at a singer, who from the gods
sings, knowing lovely words for mortals,
and they are insatiably eager to hear him whenever he sings;
so that man charmed me, sitting beside me in the halls.
And he says he is a guest-friend of Odysseus by inheritance,
living in Crete, where the race of Minos is.
From there indeed he has now come here, suffering woes,
rolling on and on; and he claims he has heard of Odysseus,
nearby, in the rich district of the Thesprotian men,
that he is alive; and he brings many treasures home to this house.
And wise Penelope answered him:
Go, call him here, so that he may himself tell me face to face.
And let these men sit and amuse themselves at the doors,
or here through the house, since their heart is merry.
For their own possessions lie unspoiled in the house,
bread and sweet wine; these the household eats,
but they, coming to our house every day,
sacrificing cattle and sheep and fat goats,
feast and drink the flaming wine,
at random; and much is consumed. For there is no longer a man
such as Odysseus was, to ward off ruin from the house.
But if Odysseus would come and reach his fatherland,
soon with his son he would exact payment for the violence of the men.
So she spoke, and Telemachos sneezed greatly, and through the house
it rang terribly; and Penelope laughed,
and right away she spoke winged words to Eumaios:
Go, call the stranger here before me.
Don't you see that my son sneezed at all my words?
Therefore death shall not be unaccomplished for the suitors,
for all of them, nor shall any escape death and the fates.
And I will tell you another thing, and do you set it in your mind:
if I find him telling all things truthfully,
I will clothe him in cloak and tunic, beautiful garments.
So she spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word;
and standing near he spoke winged words:
Stranger and father, wise Penelope calls you,
the mother of Telemachos; the desire of her heart
tells her to inquire about her husband, though she has suffered griefs.
And if she finds you telling all things truthfully,
she will clothe you in cloak and tunic, which you most
need; and bread, begging through the district,
you will feed your belly; and whoever wishes will give you.
And much-enduring godlike Odysseus answered him:
Eumaios, right away I would tell all things truthfully
to the daughter of Ikarios, wise Penelope;
for I know well about him, and we have shared the same sorrow.
But I dread the crowd of harsh suitors,
whose insolence and violence reach the iron heaven.
For even now, when this man struck me as I came through the house,
though I had done no wrong, and gave me pains,
neither Telemachos helped in this nor any other.
Therefore now tell Penelope in the halls
to wait, though she is eager, until the sun sets;
and then let her ask me about the day of her husband's homecoming,
having seated me closer by the fire; for I have
wretched clothes; you yourself know, since I first supplicated you.
So he spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard the word.
And Penelope spoke to him as he crossed the threshold:
You are not bringing him, Eumaios; why did the wanderer think this?
Is he fearing someone excessively, or does he otherwise
feel shame in the house? A base wanderer is a shameful one.
And you answered her, Eumaios the swineherd:
He speaks with reason, as any other man would think,
avoiding the insolence of overbearing men.
But he tells you to wait until the sun sets.
And for you yourself, queen, it is much better
to speak and listen to a word alone with the stranger.
And wise Penelope answered him:
The stranger is not foolish; he thinks as it would be;
for nowhere do any such mortal men
devise reckless things in their insolence.
So she spoke, and the godlike swineherd went
into the crowd of suitors, when he had told her everything.
And right away he spoke winged words to Telemachos,
holding his head near, so that the others might not hear:
Dear friend, I am going away, to guard the swine and those things,
your livelihood and mine; but let all things here be your care.
First save yourself, and consider in your heart
in case you suffer something; for many of the Achaeans plan evils,
whom may Zeus destroy before they become a woe to us.
And prudent Telemachos answered him:
It will be so, father; but go, after your evening meal;
and at dawn come and bring fine sacrificial victims;
and all these things will be my care and the immortals'.
So he spoke, and he sat down again on the well-polished chair,
and having filled his heart with food and drink
he went to the swine, and left the pens and the hall,
full of banqueters; and they with dancing and song
delighted themselves; for now the late day had come.

### Book 18

A common beggar came in, who through the town
begged in Ithaca, and was noted for his greedy belly,
endlessly eating and drinking; he had no strength
and no force, though he was very big to look at.
Arnaeus was his name; his noble mother gave it to him
at birth; but all the young men called him Irus,
because he carried messages whenever someone asked.
He came and drove Odysseus out of his own house,
and, scolding him, spoke winged words:
Give way, old man, from the doorway, or you will soon be dragged by the foot.
Don't you hear how they all wink at me
and tell me to drag you out? Still, I'm ashamed to.
Get up, or we'll soon have a quarrel and blows.
Glaring at him, clever Odysseus replied:
Strange man, I'm doing you no harm and saying none,
and I don't begrudge anyone giving, even one who has taken a lot.
This threshold will hold us both, and you shouldn't
begrudge another's goods; you look to me like a wanderer
just like me; but the gods may give wealth.
Don't provoke me too much with your hands, or you'll make me angry,
and then, old as I am, I'll smear your chest and lips
with blood; then there'd be more peace for me
tomorrow; I don't think you'll come back
a second time to the hall of Odysseus, son of Laertes.
Angry, the beggar Irus answered him:
Good heavens, how glibly this greedy glutton talks,
just like an old woman at the oven! I'd plan trouble for him,
hitting with both fists, and I'd knock all his teeth
out of his jaws to the ground, like a plundering sow.
Gird yourself now, so all these men may know
we're fighting; how could you fight a younger man?
So the two of them, in front of the high doors,
on the polished threshold, quarreled with all their heart.
Antinous' sacred fury understood them,
and laughing sweetly he said to the suitors:
Friends, nothing like this has ever happened before,
what a pleasure a god has brought to this house.
The stranger and Irus are challenging each other
to fight with their hands; come, let's match them quickly.
He spoke, and they all jumped up laughing,
and gathered around the two badly dressed beggars.
Antinous, son of Eupeithes, said to them:
Listen to me, proud suitors, so I can say something.
These goat paunches lie in the fire, which for supper
we set there, filled with fat and blood.
Whichever of the two wins and proves stronger,
let him get up and take whichever one he wants.
He'll always share meals with us after that, and we won't let
any other beggar come in and beg among us.
So Antinous spoke, and the plan pleased them.
But clever Odysseus, with a crafty mind, said to them:
Friends, an old man worn down by misery can't
fight a younger one; but my belly,
the troublemaker, pushes me on to be beaten down by blows.
Come now, all of you swear me a strong oath
that no one, to please Irus, will strike me with a heavy hand
out of wickedness, and so overpower me for him.
He spoke, and they all swore as he asked.
When they had sworn and finished the oath,
then the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke to them:
Stranger, if your heart and proud spirit urge you
to fight this man off, don't fear any other
of the Achaeans, since whoever strikes you will have many to fight.
I am your host, and the princes approve it,
both Antinous and Eurymachus, both sensible men.
He spoke, and they all approved. Then Odysseus
girded his rags around his waist, and showed his thighs,
beautiful and big, and his broad shoulders appeared,
his chest and sturdy arms. Then Athena
stood close and made the limbs of the shepherd of the people grow stronger.
All the suitors were hugely amazed,
and one would say, looking at his neighbor:
Soon Irus will get a self-invited trouble,
such a thigh the old man shows from his rags!
So they said, and the spirit of Irus was stirred to trouble.
But even so the servants brought him, girding him by force,
terrified; his flesh trembled over his limbs.
Antinous scolded him and spoke and named him:
Now may you not exist, you blusterer, nor ever have been,
if you are trembling before this man and terribly afraid,
an old man worn down by misery that has come on him.
But I'll tell you plainly, and it will be done:
if this man beats you and proves stronger,
I'll send you to the mainland, throwing you in a black ship,
to King Echetus, the destroyer of all mortals,
who will cut off your nose and ears with pitiless bronze,
and tear out your privates and give them raw to the dogs.
He spoke, and trembling seized his limbs even more.
They led them to the middle; both raised their hands.
Then much-enduring, brilliant Odysseus considered
whether to hit him so his life left him fallen there,
or to hit him lightly and stretch him on the ground.
As he thought, it seemed better to him
to hit lightly, so the Achaeans wouldn't notice him.
Then as they raised their hands, Irus struck his right shoulder,
and the other struck his neck under the ear, and crushed the bones
inside; at once crimson blood came through his mouth,
and he fell bellowing in the dust, gnashing his teeth
and kicking the ground with his feet; and the noble suitors
raised their hands and died of laughter. But Odysseus
grabbed his foot and dragged him through the doorway until he reached the court
and the porch doors; and against the courtyard wall
he set him, leaning him back, and put his staff in his hand,
and spoke and addressed him with winged words:
Sit here now and keep off the pigs and dogs,
and don't be a lord over strangers and beggars,
wretched as you are, or you may get something even worse.
He spoke, and slung his ugly wallet over his shoulders,
all torn, with a twisted cord for a strap.
Then he went back and sat down on the threshold; and they went in,
laughing sweetly and greeting him with words:
May Zeus give you, stranger, and the other immortal gods,
whatever you most want and is dear to your heart,
since you've stopped this glutton from begging
among the people; soon we'll take him to the mainland,
to King Echetus, the destroyer of all mortals.
So they said, and brilliant Odysseus rejoiced at the omen.
Antinous set a big paunch before him,
full of fat and blood; and Amphinomus
lifted two loaves from the basket and set them beside him,
and toasted him with a golden cup, and said:
Greetings, father stranger, may you have
wealth in the future; but now you're held by many troubles.
Answering him, clever Odysseus said:
Amphinomus, you really seem to me a sensible man,
from a father like that too, since I heard his good name,
that Nisus of Dulichium was noble and rich;
they say you're his son, and you look like a courteous man.
So I'll tell you, and you mark it and hear me:
Earth feeds nothing weaker than man,
of all things that breathe and creep on the earth.
For he never thinks he'll suffer evil in the future,
as long as the gods give him excellence and his knees are nimble.
But when the blessed gods bring troubles to pass,
he bears them too, unwilling, with an enduring heart.
For such is the mind of men on earth
as the day the father of men and gods brings on.
I too was once meant to be happy among men,
and I did many reckless things, yielding to force and might,
trusting my father and my brothers.
So let no man ever be completely lawless,
but let him quietly keep whatever gifts the gods give.
I see the suitors recklessly plotting such things,
wasting the property and dishonoring the wife
of a man who, I say, will not be away long from his friends
and his homeland; he is very near. But may some god
lead you home out of the way, and may you not meet him
when he comes back to his dear homeland.
For I don't think they'll part without blood,
the suitors and that man, once he comes under the roof.
So he spoke, and after the libation drank the honey-sweet wine,
and put the cup back in the hands of the marshal of the people.
But he went through the house, grieved at heart,
nodding with his head; for his spirit foresaw evil.
But even so he didn't escape his fate; Athena bound him too
to be overpowered by the hands and spear of Telemachus.
Then he sat down again on the chair he had risen from.
The goddess, bright-eyed Athena, put it into the mind
of the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,
to appear before the suitors, so she might most
lift the hearts of the suitors and be more honored
by her husband and son than she had been before.
She laughed pointlessly and spoke and named the word:
Eurynome, my heart longs, as never before,
to appear before the suitors, hateful as they are to me.
And I'd say a word to my son that would be better for him,
not to mix in everything with the overbearing suitors,
who speak well to your face and think evil behind your back.
The housekeeper Eurynome answered her:
Yes indeed, child, you've said all this as you should.
But go and speak a word to your son, don't hide it,
after washing your skin and anointing your cheeks.
And don't go with your face so smeared with tears,
since it's worse to mourn endlessly all the time.
Your son is already old enough, the one you most
prayed to the immortals to see with a beard.
Then wise Penelope answered her:
Eurynome, don't urge me to that, careful as you are,
to wash my skin and anoint myself with oil.
The gods who hold Olympus destroyed my beauty
from the time that man went off in the hollow ships.
But tell Autonoe and Hippodamia
to come, so they can stand beside me in the hall.
I won't go in among men alone; I'm ashamed to.
So she spoke, and the old woman went through the hall
to tell the women and urge them to come.
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, thought of something else:
she poured sweet sleep on the daughter of Icarius,
and she slept, leaning back, and all her limbs went loose
there on the couch; meanwhile the shining goddess
gave immortal gifts, so the Achaeans would marvel at her.
First she cleansed her beautiful face with beauty,
with ambrosial oil, the kind fair-crowned Cytherea
anoints herself with when she goes to the lovely dance of the Graces.
She made her taller and fuller to look at,
and made her whiter than sawn ivory.
Having done this, the shining goddess left,
and the white-armed maids came from the hall
with voices as they came; and sweet sleep released her,
and she wiped her cheeks with her hands and said:
Ah, soft sleep has covered me, sorely afflicted as I am.
If only holy Artemis would give me so soft a death
right now, so that I might no longer, grieving in my heart,
waste away my life, longing for my dear husband
and all his excellence, since he was outstanding among the Achaeans.
So speaking she came down the shining upper stairs,
not alone; two maids followed with her.
When the shining one among women came to the suitors,
she stood by the doorpost of the well-built roof,
holding her shining veil before her cheeks,
and a faithful maid stood on either side of her.
Their knees went loose right there, and their hearts were charmed with desire,
and all prayed to lie beside her in bed.
She addressed Telemachus, her dear son:
Telemachus, your mind is no longer steady, nor your thought.
When you were still a child you managed your thoughts with more sense.
But now that you're grown and have reached the measure of youth,
and someone might say you're the son of a blessed man,
looking at your size and beauty, even a stranger,
your thoughts are no longer decent, nor your mind.
What a deed has been done in the hall,
that you let the stranger be so shamefully treated!
How now, if a stranger in our house
sitting here suffered such painful dragging about?
It would be disgrace and shame for you among people.
Then sensible Telemachus answered her:
Mother, I don't blame you for being angry.
But I see in my heart and know each thing,
both the good and the worse; before I was still a child.
But I can't understand everything wisely.
These men sitting by me strike me from this side and that,
these who think evil, and I have no one to help me.
Still, the fight between the stranger and Irus didn't happen
by the will of the suitors; he was stronger by force.
If only, father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,
the suitors in our house now
were nodding their heads in subjection, some in the courtyard,
some inside the house, and every man's limbs were loose,
as now that Irus at the courtyard doors
sits nodding his head, like a drunk man,
and can't stand upright on his feet or go
home, where his way home is, since his dear limbs are loose.
So the two of them said such things to each other.
Eurymachus addressed Penelope with words:
Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,
if all the Achaeans throughout Iasian Argos saw you,
more suitors would feast in your house
from dawn, since you surpass all women
in beauty and stature and in the mind within you.
Then wise Penelope answered him:
Eurymachus, the immortals destroyed my excellence
and beauty and form, when the Argives went up
to Ilium, and with them went my husband Odysseus.
If that man came and cared for my life,
my glory would be greater and fairer.
But now I grieve; a god has heaped so many troubles on me.
Indeed, when he left his homeland behind,
he took my hand by the wrist and said to me:
Wife, I don't think the well-greaved Achaeans
will all come back safely from Troy.
They say the Trojans are fighting men,
both spearmen and shooters of arrows,
and riders of swift-footed horses, who most quickly
decide the great strife of leveling war.
So I don't know whether a god will release me or I'll be taken
there in Troy; but let everything here be your care.
Remember my father and mother in the hall,
as now, or even more while I'm far away.
And when you see our son bearded,
marry whoever you wish, leaving your house behind.
So he spoke; and now all this is being fulfilled.
There will be a night when a hateful marriage meets me,
in my accursed case, from whom Zeus has taken prosperity.
But this dread grief comes on my heart and spirit:
this was not the way of suitors in former times.
Those who want to court a good woman and a rich man's daughter
and vie with one another,
they themselves bring cattle and sturdy sheep,
a feast for the girl's friends, and give shining gifts.
They don't eat up another's livelihood without paying.
So she spoke, and much-enduring, brilliant Odysseus rejoiced,
because she drew gifts from them and charmed their hearts
with gentle words, while her mind intended other things.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, addressed her:
Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,
whoever of the Achaeans wishes to bring gifts here,
accept them; it's not noble to refuse a gift.
But we won't go to our work, or anywhere else,
before you marry whichever Achaean is best.
So Antinous spoke, and the plan pleased them,
and each sent a herald to bring gifts.
For Antinous he brought a big, very beautiful robe,
embroidered; and on it were twelve brooches, all
of gold, fitted with well-bent clasps.
And for Eurymachus he brought at once a richly worked necklace,
of gold strung with amber, like the sun.
And for Eurydamas two servants brought earrings,
with three beads, carefully made; much grace shone from them.
And from Pisander, son of Polyctor, the prince,
a servant brought a necklace, a very beautiful ornament.
And each of the other Achaeans brought a fine gift.
Then the shining one among women went up to the upper rooms,
and her maids carried the very beautiful gifts with her;
and the men turned to dancing and lovely song,
and took their pleasure, and waited for evening to come.
And as they took their pleasure, dark evening came on them.
At once they set three torches in the hall,
to give light; and around them they put dry wood,
long dried, seasoned, newly split with bronze,
and mixed in pine splinters; and in turn they kept the flames alive,
the maidservants of much-enduring Odysseus. But he
himself, god-born, clever Odysseus, said to them:
Maids of Odysseus, whose master has long been gone,
go to the rooms where your revered queen is,
and whirl the spindles beside her, and delight her
as you sit in the hall, or card wool with your hands.
And I'll provide light for all these men.
For even if they want to wait for well-throned Dawn,
they won't beat me; I'm very much-enduring.
So he spoke, and they laughed and looked at one another.
Fair-cheeked Melantho scolded him shamefully,
the one Dolius fathered but Penelope raised,
and cherished like a child, and gave her toys to please her heart.
But even so she had no grief for Penelope in her mind,
but she slept with Eurymachus and loved him.
She scolded Odysseus with reproachful words:
Wretched stranger, you're surely someone whose wits are addled.
You won't go sleep in the smithy
or somewhere in a public portico, but here you talk a lot,
boldly among many men, and in your heart
you're not afraid. Either wine has hold of your wits, or always
your mind is like that; and so you talk nonsense.
Are you out of your mind because you beat Irus the beggar?
Lest someone better than Irus soon rise against you,
who, striking you about the head with sturdy hands,
may send you out of the house, smeared with much blood.
Glaring at her, clever Odysseus said:
Soon I'll tell Telemachus, you dog, what you're saying,
going to him, so he cuts you limb from limb.
So speaking, he terrified the women with his words.
They went through the house, and each woman's limbs went loose
with terror; for they thought he had spoken the truth.
But he, giving light beside the burning torches,
stood looking at them all; and his heart kept pondering
in his breast other things, which were not to go unaccomplished.
And Athena didn't let the suitors, proud as they were,
hold back from heart-paining outrage, so that even more
grief might enter the heart of Laertes' son Odysseus.
Among them Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak,
taunting Odysseus; and he made his comrades laugh.
Listen to me, suitors of the far-famed queen,
so I can say what my heart in my breast commands me.
Not without a god has this man come to Odysseus' house.
It seems to me there's a gleam of torches from him,
from his head, since he has no hair on it at all.
So he spoke, and at the same time addressed Odysseus, sacker of cities:
Stranger, would you be willing to work as a hired man, if I took you on,
on the edge of the farm, and your pay will be enough,
gathering stones for walls and planting tall trees?
There I'd give you grain in plenty,
and clothe you and give you shoes for your feet.
But since you've learned base work, you won't be willing
to go about a job, but you'd rather cringe through the country
so you can feed your insatiable belly.
Answering him, clever Odysseus said:
Eurymachus, if only there were a contest of work between us two
in the spring season, when the days grow long,
in the meadow, and I held a well-curved sickle,
and you held one too, so we could test the work
fasting till dark, with plenty of grass.
Or if there were cattle to drive, the very best,
tawny, big, both glutted with grass,
the same age, equal in strength, and their might not weak,
and there were a four-acre field, and the soil gave way to the plow,
then you'd see me, if I cut a straight furrow through.
Or if Cronos' son should stir up war from somewhere
today, and I had a shield and two spears
and a helmet all of bronze, fitted to my temples,
then you'd see me mingling among the foremost fighters,
and you wouldn't reproach me about my belly.
But you're very insolent, and your mind is harsh.
You think you're some great and mighty man,
because you keep company with few men, and those not good.
But if Odysseus came and reached his homeland,
quickly the doorway, broad as it is,
would grow narrow for you as you fled out through the porch.
So he spoke, and Eurymachus grew angrier in his heart,
and glaring at him spoke winged words:
Ah, wretch, soon I'll work you evil for what you say
so boldly among many men, and in your heart
you're not afraid. Either wine has hold of your wits, or always
your mind is like that; and so you talk nonsense.
Are you out of your mind because you beat Irus the beggar?
So speaking he seized a footstool; but Odysseus
sat down at the knees of Amphinomus of Dulichium,
in fear of Eurymachus; and he struck the cupbearer's right hand.
The pitcher fell to the ground with a clang,
and he groaned and fell on his back in the dust.
The suitors clamored through the shadowy halls,
and one would say, looking at his neighbor:
If only the wandering stranger had died elsewhere
before he came; then he wouldn't have raised so much noise.
But now we're quarreling about beggars, and there'll be no
pleasure in a good feast, since the worse wins.
Then the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke among them:
Strange men, you're mad, and you no longer hide in your hearts
food or drink; surely some god is stirring you up.
But feast well and go home and lie down,
whenever your heart bids you; I don't drive anyone away.
So he spoke, and they all bit their lips with their teeth
and marveled at Telemachus, that he spoke so boldly.
Then Amphinomus spoke to them and said,
the shining son of Nisus, son of lord Aretias:
Friends, surely no one would be angry, attacking with hostile words,
at what has been justly said.
Don't strike the stranger, or any other
of the servants who are in the house of divine Odysseus.
But come, let the cupbearer begin with the cups,
so after the libation we can go home and lie down.
And let's leave the stranger in the halls of Odysseus
to be cared for by Telemachus, for he's come to his dear house.
So he spoke, and said a word pleasing to them all.
And the hero Mulius mixed a bowl for them,
a herald of Dulichium; he was a servant of Amphinomus.
He served it to all in turn; and they, to the gods
after the libation to the blessed ones, drank honey-sweet wine.
But when they had poured libations and drunk as much as their heart wished,
they went each to his own house to lie down.

### Book 19

But noble Odysseus was left behind in the hall,
thinking over with Athena how to kill the suitors.
He quickly spoke winged words to Telemachus:
Telemachus, all the war gear has to be put away inside,
every bit of it; and with soft words you must
put the suitors off when they ask you about it, missing it.
I have stored it out of the smoke, since it is no longer like
what Odysseus left behind when he went to Troy,
but it has been spoiled as far as the fire's blast has reached.
And a god has put this bigger worry in my mind too,
in case you get drunk and start a quarrel among yourselves
and wound each other and disgrace the feast
and the wooing; for iron all by itself pulls a man on.
So he said, and Telemachus obeyed his own dear father,
and he called the nurse Eurycleia over and said to her:
Nurse, come on, shut the women inside the halls for me,
until I put my father's weapons away in the storeroom,
the fine ones, which the smoke in the house is ruining while nobody cares,
now that my father is gone; and I was still a child.
But now I want to put them away where the fire's blast cannot reach them.
Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered him:
If only, child, you would take some sense at last
and look after the house and guard all the property.
But come on, who will bring a light for you then?
You did not let the maids come forward, the ones who could give light.
Then the sensible Telemachus answered her directly:
This stranger here; because I will not put up with an idle man
who touches my rations, even if he has come from far away.
So he spoke, and her word went no further without wings.
He locked the doors of the well-built halls.
Then the two of them jumped up, Odysseus and his glorious son,
and carried in the helmets and the bossed shields
and the sharp-pointed spears; and ahead of them Pallas Athena,
holding a golden lamp, made a very beautiful light.
Right then Telemachus quickly spoke to his father:
Father, this really is a great wonder that I see with my eyes.
Even so, the walls of the hall and the fine cross-beams,
and the fir-pitched rafters, and the columns standing up high,
they look to my eyes as if they were burning fire.
Surely some god is inside, one of those who hold wide heaven.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Be quiet, keep it inside your own mind and do not ask questions;
this is the way of the gods, who hold Olympus.
But you go and lie down, and I will stay behind here,
so that I can still stir up the maids and your mother;
and grieving, she will ask me about each thing.
So he spoke, and Telemachus had gone across the hall
to lie down in his room, under the light of the torches,
where he used to sleep before, when sweet sleep came over him;
there he lay down then too and waited for the shining Dawn.
But Odysseus was left behind in the hall,
thinking over with Athena how to kill the suitors.
Then wise Penelope came out of her room,
looking like Artemis or golden Aphrodite.
Beside her they set a chair by the fire, where she sat,
inlaid with ivory and silver; a craftsman once
made it, Icmalius, and he fixed a footstool under her feet
that grew out of the chair itself, and a thick fleece was thrown over it.
Then wise Penelope sat down there.
And the white-armed maids came in from the hall.
They took away the great quantity of grain and the tables
and the cups, from which the arrogant men had been drinking;
and they threw the fire from the torches down on the ground, and on top of them
they piled up a lot of wood, to give light and to warm the room.
Then Melantho scolded Odysseus a second time again:
Stranger, are you still going to keep bothering us here through the night,
turning around the house, and staring at the women?
Get outside, you wretch, and enjoy the feast;
or soon you may be hit with a firebrand and go outside too.
Then much-devising Odysseus spoke, looking at her from under his brows:
You maddening woman, why do you come at me like this with anger in your heart?
Because I am filthy and wear foul clothes on my skin,
and I beg around the country? Hard need drives me to it.
Poor men and wanderers are like this;
and I too once lived in a house among people,
a rich man, and I often used to give to a wanderer,
whatever kind of man he was and whatever he came needing;
and I had countless slaves, and many other things as well
by which men live well and are called rich.
But Cronion Zeus destroyed it; he wanted it, I suppose.
So you, woman, may you never lose all
the glory that you now have among the slave women;
in case the mistress gets angry and is harsh with you,
or Odysseus comes; there is still a chance of hope.
But if he is dead like that and is never coming back,
still there is now a son like this, thanks to Apollo,
Telemachus; and no woman in the halls
acts badly without him noticing, since he is no longer a child.
So he spoke, and wise Penelope heard him,
and she scolded her maid, and said a word and called her by name:
You bold dog, shameless through and through, you do not escape my notice
doing a great wicked thing, and you will wipe it off on your own head.
You knew all of this perfectly well, since you heard it from me myself
that I meant to ask the stranger in my halls
about my husband, since I am deeply grieved.
So she spoke, and she said to the housekeeper Eurynome:
Eurynome, bring a chair now and a fleece to put on it,
so that when the stranger sits down he can speak a word and listen
to me; for I want to question him.
So she spoke, and she very quickly brought and set down
a well-polished chair, and she threw a fleece over it;
there then much-enduring noble Odysseus sat down.
And among them wise Penelope began the talk:
Stranger, first of all I myself will ask you this:
who are you and where are you from? Where is your city and your parents?
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Lady, no man on the boundless earth could find fault with you;
for truly your fame reaches wide heaven,
like that of some blameless king, who fears the gods
and rules over many men and strong ones,
and upholds fair justice, and the black earth bears
wheat and barley, and the trees are heavy with fruit,
and the flocks keep bearing young, and the sea gives fish
because he leads well, and the people prosper under him.
So ask me about the other things in your house,
but do not ask about my family and my homeland,
in case you fill my heart with even more pain
when I remember it; and I am very full of sorrow; and I should not
sit in another man's house weeping and wailing,
since it is worse to go on mourning endlessly forever.
In case one of the maids resents me, or you yourself,
and says I am swimming in tears, my mind weighed down with wine.
Then wise Penelope answered him:
Stranger, truly the immortals destroyed my excellence and my looks
and my body, when the Argives went up to Ilion,
and among them went my own husband Odysseus.
If that man came and looked after my life,
my fame would be greater and finer that way.
But now I grieve; a god has piled so many troubles on me.
For all the best men who rule the islands,
Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus,
and those who live around Ithaca itself with its fine view,
they court me against my will, and they wear out my house.
So I pay no attention to strangers or to suppliants
or to any heralds, who are public workers;
but longing for Odysseus, my dear husband, my heart melts away.
They are rushing the marriage; but I am spinning my tricks.
First a god breathed a robe into my mind,
when I had set up a big loom, to weave in the hall,
fine and very wide; and at once I said to them:
Young men, my suitors, since noble Odysseus is dead,
wait, eager as you are for my marriage, until I finish
this robe, so my weaving is not wasted,
a burial shroud for the hero Laertes, against the time when
his destructive fate of long-drawn death lays him low;
in case one of the Achaean women in the country resents me,
if a man who gained so much lies there without a shroud.
So I said, and their proud hearts were persuaded.
Then by day I wove at the big loom,
and at night I undid it, once I had set the torches beside me.
So for three years I hid it and kept the Achaeans fooled;
but when the fourth year came and the seasons came round,
with the months waning and many days completed,
then at last, through my maids, the shameless dogs,
they came on me and caught me and scolded me with words.
So I finished it, unwilling, under compulsion;
but now I cannot escape the marriage, nor can I find
any other plan; my parents very much urge me
to marry, and my son is upset, watching his property
being eaten up; he understands; for now he is a man, quite able
to look after the house, and Zeus gives him glory.
But all the same, tell me your family, where you are from.
You are not from the famous oak or from a rock.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Honoured lady, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,
will you never stop asking about my birth?
Come, I will tell you; but you really will hand me over to more griefs
than I already have; for it is the custom, when a man
is away from his own country for as long a time as I am now,
wandering over many cities of men, suffering pains.
But even so I will tell you what you are asking and inquiring about.
There is a land called Crete, in the middle of the wine-dark sea,
a fine rich place, surrounded by water; and in it there are men
in great numbers, past counting, and ninety cities.
And one language is mixed with another; there are Achaeans,
there are great-hearted Eteocretans, there are Cydonians,
and the three-divided Dorians and the noble Pelasgians.
In these cities is Knossos, a great city, where Minos
ruled as a nine-year king, the companion of great Zeus,
the father of my father, great-hearted Deucalion.
Deucalion fathered me and King Idomeneus.
But he went with the curved ships to Ilion
along with the sons of Atreus, and my famous name is Aethon,
younger by birth; he was older and better.
There I saw Odysseus and gave him guest-gifts.
For the force of the wind brought him down to Crete,
as he was trying to reach Troy, and drove him off course past Malea;
and he put in at Amnisos, where the cave of Eileithyia is,
in hard harbours, and he barely escaped the storm.
At once I went up to the city and asked about Idomeneus;
for he said he was a dear and honoured friend of his.
But it was now the tenth or the eleventh dawn
since he had gone with the curved ships to Ilion.
I brought him to my house and entertained him well,
treating him kindly, since there was plenty in the house;
and to him and the other comrades who came with him
I gave barley from the public store and dark wine, which I gathered,
and cattle to sacrifice, so they could fill their hearts.
There the noble Achaeans stayed twelve days;
for the great North Wind held them down and did not
let them stand on the land, and some harsh god stirred it up.
On the thirteenth day the wind dropped, and they put out to sea.
He made up many lies and told them looking like the truth;
and as she listened the tears flowed, and her skin melted away;
the way snow melts on the high-topped mountains,
which the East Wind melts, after the West Wind pours it down,
and as it melts the rivers run full as they flow;
so her lovely cheeks melted as she poured out tears,
weeping for the husband sitting beside her. But Odysseus
in his heart pitied his weeping wife,
yet his eyes stood still like horn or iron
without moving under his lids; and he hid his tears by trickery.
And when she had had enough of much-wept weeping,
then she answered him again with words and said:
Now, stranger, I think I am going to test you,
whether you really entertained my husband there in your halls
with his godlike comrades, as you are saying.
Tell me what kind of clothes he had on his body,
and what he himself was like, and the comrades who came with him.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Lady, it is hard, after being away so long,
to tell it; for it is already the twentieth year
since he left that place and went away from my country.
But I will tell you as it appears to my heart.
Noble Odysseus had a purple mantle, shaggy,
double; and a brooch had been made for it of gold
with two sheaths; and on the front there was a figured design:
a dog was holding a dappled fawn in its forepaws,
gripping it as it struggled; and everyone marvelled at it,
how, though they were gold, the one gripped and choked the fawn,
while the other struggled with its feet, wanting to get away.
And I noticed the tunic on his skin, gleaming,
just like the skin of a dried onion;
that is how soft it was, and it shone like the sun;
indeed many women admired it.
And I will tell you something else, and put it in your mind:
I do not know whether Odysseus wore these on his body at home,
or some comrade gave them to him as he set out on the swift ship,
or maybe some stranger, since Odysseus was
dear to many; for few of the Achaeans were like him.
And I gave him a bronze sword and a double cloak,
a fine purple one, and a fringed tunic,
and I sent him off with honour on the well-benched ship.
And a herald came with him, a little older than he was;
and him too I will describe to you, what he was like.
Round-shouldered, dark-skinned, with curly hair,
his name was Eurybates; and Odysseus honoured him beyond the others
of his comrades, because he knew what suited his mind.
So he spoke, and he stirred in her even more desire to weep,
as she recognised the sure tokens Odysseus had told her.
And when she had had enough of much-wept weeping,
then she answered him with words and said:
Now, stranger, though you were pitiable before,
in my halls you will be dear and honoured;
for I myself gave those clothes you are describing,
folding them out of the storeroom, and I added the shining brooch
to be a delight to him; but I will not welcome him again
coming home to his dear homeland.
So it was with an evil fate that Odysseus went on the hollow ship
to look on evil Ilion, which should not be named.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Honoured lady, wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,
stop now destroying your lovely skin, and stop melting
your heart, weeping for your husband. I do not blame you at all;
for any woman weeps for the man she has lost,
her wedded husband, to whom she bore children in love,
or for Odysseus, whom they say is like the gods.
But stop the weeping, and listen to what I say;
for I will tell you the truth and I will not hide it,
how I have already heard about the return of Odysseus
close by, in the rich country of the Thesprotian men,
that he is alive; and he is bringing back many good treasures,
collecting them by begging around the country. But his trusty comrades
he lost, and the hollow ship, in the wine-dark sea,
coming from the island of Thrinacia; for Zeus and Helios
were angry with him; his comrades killed the cattle of Helios.
They all died in the much-surging sea;
but the wave threw him up on the keel of the ship onto dry land,
into the land of the Phaeacians, who are near to the gods,
who honoured him from their hearts like a god
and gave him many gifts, and themselves wanted to send him
home unharmed. And Odysseus would have been here long ago;
but it seemed better to him in his heart
to go collecting goods over a great deal of land;
so well does Odysseus know the many ways of profiting among mortal men,
and no other mortal could compete with him.
That is what Pheidon, king of the Thesprotians, told me;
and he swore to me himself, pouring a libation in his house,
that the ship was hauled down and the crew was ready,
men who would send him to his dear homeland.
But he sent me away first; a ship happened to be coming
of Thesprotian men to Dulichium, rich in wheat.
And he showed me the treasure, all that Odysseus had gathered;
and it would feed another family to the tenth generation,
so much treasure of the king lay in his halls.
And he said he had gone to Dodona, so that from the god's
high-leaved oak of Zeus he might hear the counsel,
how he should come home to his dear homeland,
having been away so long now, whether openly or in secret.
So he is safe in this way and will come here now,
very near, and will not be far from his friends and his own land
much longer; and yet I will give you oaths on it.
Let Zeus be witness now, first of the gods, highest and best,
and the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have come to;
truly all this will be fulfilled as I say.
Within this very year Odysseus will come here,
as this month ends and the next begins.
Then the wise Penelope answered him and said:
I wish, stranger, that this word of yours were fulfilled!
Then you would soon find friendship and many gifts
from me, so that anyone who met you would call you blessed.
But this is how my heart guesses it will be:
that Odysseus will not come home any more, and you will not
get an escort, since there are no such leaders in the house
as Odysseus was among men, if he ever was,
to send honoured guests away and to welcome them.
But come, maids, wash him, and set up a bed for him,
bedding and blankets and shining covers,
so that he may come to golden-throned Dawn warm and comfortable,
and at dawn, very early, wash him and rub him with oil,
so that he may sit inside beside Telemachus and think about the meal,
sitting in the hall; and it will be the worse for whoever
of those men grieves this man with heart-destroying words; and no work
will he do here any longer, however terribly angry he is.
For how will you learn from me, stranger, whether I am better
than other women in mind and prudent counsel,
if you dine in the halls unwashed and wearing wretched clothes?
And men are short-lived creatures.
Whoever is harsh himself and knows harsh thoughts,
all mortals curse him with sorrows for the future
while he lives, and when he is dead they all mock him.
But whoever is blameless himself and knows blameless thoughts,
strangers carry his wide fame
to all men, and many call him a good man.
Then Odysseus of many devices answered her and said:
Lady, honoured wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,
truly cloaks and shining covers
have been hateful to me, ever since I first left the snowy mountains
of Crete, going on a long-oared ship,
and I lie down as I used to lie through sleepless nights;
for many nights I have spent on a wretched bed
and waited for fair-throned shining Dawn.
Nor does a footbath for my feet that pleases my heart
come to me; nor will any woman touch my foot
of those who are your serving women in the house,
unless there is some old woman who knows what is sound,
who has endured in her heart as much as I have;
I would not begrudge her touching my feet.
Then the wise Penelope answered him and said:
Dear stranger, never yet has any sensible man
of far-off friends come to my house
as you speak all your words so gracefully and with such sense.
I have an old woman who keeps prudent counsels in her heart,
who once nursed that unhappy man well and brought him up,
taking him in her arms when his mother first gave him birth;
she will wash your feet, though she is feeble now.
But come now, get up, wise Eurycleia,
wash your master's age-mate; and perhaps Odysseus
is already like this in his feet and like this in his hands;
for in misery men quickly grow old.
So she spoke, and the old woman covered her face with her hands,
and let fall warm tears, and spoke a doleful word:
Poor me, for you, child, helpless as I am; truly Zeus
has hated you, though you had a god-fearing heart.
For never yet has any mortal pleased Zeus who delights in thunder
with so much rich thigh-bone and chosen hecatombs
as you gave him, praying that you might reach a sleek
old age and raise a glorious son;
but now he has taken from you alone the day of your return.
So too, I suppose, women mocked that man
when he came to anyone's glorious house as a far-off stranger,
just as these dogs here all mock you;
and avoiding their abuse and much shame,
you do not let them wash you; but the daughter of Icarius,
the wise Penelope, has ordered me, and not against my will.
So I will wash your feet both for Penelope's sake
and for your own, since my heart within me is stirred
by cares. But come now, mark the word I shall speak:
many long-suffering strangers have come here,
but never yet, I say, have I seen anyone so like
as you are like Odysseus in body and voice and feet.
Then Odysseus of many devices answered her and said:
Old woman, so say all who have seen us both
with their own eyes, that we are very like each other,
as you yourself in your good sense say.
So he spoke; and the old woman took the shining basin
and washed his feet; and she poured in plenty of
cold water, then stirred in hot. But Odysseus
sat by the hearth, and quickly turned toward the darkness;
for suddenly in his heart he suspected that, taking hold of him,
she might notice the scar and the matter become plain.
She came near and washed her master; and at once she knew
the scar, which a boar once struck with its white tusk
when he went to Parnassus to Autolycus and his sons,
his mother's noble father, who surpassed men
in stealing and in swearing oaths; and the god himself gave him this,
Hermes; for to him he burned welcome thigh-bones
of lambs and kids; and the god attended him willingly.
And Autolycus came to the rich land of Ithaca
and found a new-born child of his daughter;
and Eurycleia laid him on the dear knees
as he was finishing his supper, and spoke a word and named him:
Autolycus, you yourself now find a name to give
your dear daughter's child; he is much prayed for.
Then Autolycus answered her and spoke:
My son-in-law and my daughter, give him whatever name I say;
for I have come here having made enemies of many,
both men and women, over the much-nourishing earth;
so let his name be Odysseus; and I myself,
when he grows up into manhood and comes
to his mother's great house at Parnassus, where my treasures are,
I will give him them and send him away glad.
For this reason Odysseus came, so that he might receive the glorious gifts.
Then Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus
welcomed him with their hands and with gentle words;
and his mother Amphithea, clinging to the mother of Odysseus,
kissed him on the head and on both his fair eyes.
And Autolycus called to his glorious sons
to prepare a feast; and they heard him urging them on,
and at once they brought in a bull, male and five years old;
they skinned it and dressed it, and cut it all up,
and chopped it skillfully and put the pieces on spits,
and roasted it carefully, and divided the portions.
So then all day long until the setting of the sun
they feasted, and their heart lacked nothing of the equal feast;
and when the sun set and darkness came on,
then they lay down and took the gift of sleep.
And when early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared,
they set out for the hunt, both the dogs and the sons
of Autolycus themselves; and with them noble Odysseus
went; and they climbed the steep mountain covered in forest,
Parnassus, and soon reached its windy folds.
And the Sun was then just striking the fields anew
from the softly flowing, deep-flowing Ocean,
and the hunters came into a glen; and before them
the dogs went, tracking the tracks, and behind them
the sons of Autolycus; and with them noble Odysseus
went close to the hounds, brandishing a far-shadowing spear.
There in a thick thicket a great boar lay couched;
neither the wet fury of the blowing winds
could pass through it, nor did the shining Sun strike it with its rays,
nor did the rain pass through; so dense it was,
and there was a heap of fallen leaves, abundantly thick.
Then the noise of the feet of men and dogs came around it,
as they pressed on toward it; and the boar came out of the thicket to face them,
its bristles raised well along its back, glaring fire with its eyes,
and it stood close to them; and Odysseus, first of all,
rushed forward, raising the long spear in his thick hand,
eager to wound it; but the boar got in first and struck him
above the knee, and tore off much flesh with its tusk,
leaping sideways, but it did not reach the man's bone.
And Odysseus struck it, hitting it on the right shoulder,
and the point of the shining spear went straight through;
and it fell in the dust with a groan, and its spirit flew away.
Then the dear sons of Autolycus attended to it,
and the wound of blameless, godlike Odysseus
they bound skillfully, and with a charm they stopped the dark blood,
and quickly they came to the house of his dear father.
Then Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus,
having healed him well and given him glorious gifts,
sent him away gladly and quickly to his native land,
to Ithaca. And his father and queenly mother
rejoiced at his return and asked him about everything,
and about the scar and how he got it; and he told them well
how the boar had struck him as he hunted with its white tusk,
when he had gone to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.
This the old woman took in her hands, palms flat,
and knew it as she felt it, and let the foot fall;
and the shin fell into the basin, and the bronze rang out,
and it tipped back the other way; and the water poured out on the ground.
Then joy and grief seized her heart at once, and her two eyes
filled with tears, and her full voice was checked.
She touched his chin and spoke to Odysseus:
Truly you are Odysseus, dear child; and I did not recognise you
before, until I had touched all of my master.
So she spoke, and looked with her eyes at Penelope,
wishing to tell her that her dear husband was inside.
But she could neither look at her face to face nor notice her;
for Athena had turned her mind; but Odysseus
felt for her throat and seized it with his right hand,
and with the other drew her closer to himself and spoke:
Nurse, why do you want to destroy me? You yourself nursed me
at your own breast; and now, after suffering many sorrows,
I have come in the twentieth year to my native land.
But since you have perceived it and a god put it in your heart,
be silent, in case any other in the halls learns of it.
For I will tell you this, and it will surely be fulfilled:
if a god brings the proud suitors down under me,
I will not hold back from you, though you are my nurse, when I
kill the other women slaves in my halls.
Then the wise Eurycleia answered him and said:
My child, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth!
You know how firm and unyielding my spirit is,
and I will hold it like solid stone or iron.
And another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:
if a god brings the proud suitors down under you,
then I will tell you the women in the halls,
those who dishonour you and those who are blameless.
Then Odysseus of many devices answered her and said:
Nurse, why should you tell me of them? There is no need at all.
Well, I myself will look into it and will know each one;
but keep the matter silent, and leave it to the gods.
So he spoke, and the old woman had gone through the hall
to fetch the footbath; for all the earlier water had been spilled.
But when she had washed him and anointed him richly with oil,
again Odysseus drew his chair closer to the fire
to warm himself, and hid the scar under his rags.
Then the wise Penelope began the words among them:
Stranger, I myself will ask you a little more;
for soon will be the hour of pleasant rest,
when sweet sleep seizes a man, even one in sorrow.
But for me a god has given measureless grief;
for by day I take my pleasure in weeping and wailing,
looking at my own work and at the maids in the house;
but when night comes and sleep seizes everyone,
I lie in my bed, and thick sharp cares around my throbbing heart
stir me as I weep.
As when the daughter of Pandareus, the green-clad nightingale,
sings beautifully when spring is newly come,
sitting in the thick leaves of the trees,
who often turning about pours out her many-sounding voice,
mourning her dear child Itylus, whom once with bronze
she killed in her folly, the son of lord Zethus,
so too my heart rises in two ways, here and there,
whether I stay with my son and keep all things steadfast,
my possessions, my slaves, and my high-roofed great house,
respecting the bed of my husband and the talk of the people,
or whether I now follow whichever of the Achaeans is best
and courts me in the halls, offering countless bride-gifts.
And my son, while he was still a child and foolish,
did not let me marry, leaving my husband's house;
but now that he is grown and has reached the measure of youth,
he prays me to go back out of the hall,
chafing at the substance which the Achaeans devour.
But come, interpret my dream for me and hear it.
I have twenty geese in the house eating wheat
from the water, and I take delight in watching them;
and a great hook-beaked eagle came from the mountain
and broke all their necks and killed them; and they lay
heaped together in the halls, while he rose into the shining sky.
Then I wept and wailed, even in my dream,
and around me gathered the fair-tressed Achaean women,
as I lamented pitifully that the eagle had killed my geese.
But he came back and sat on the projecting roof-beam,
and with a human voice he restrained me and spoke:
Take courage, daughter of far-famed Icarius;
this is no dream but a good waking vision, which will be fulfilled for you.
The geese are the suitors, and I, who was before a bird, an eagle,
have now come back as your husband,
who will set a shameful doom upon all the suitors.
So he spoke, and sweet sleep released me;
but I looked about and saw the geese in the halls
feeding on wheat beside the trough, where they were before.
Then Odysseus of many devices answered her and said:
Lady, it is in no way possible to interpret the dream
turning it aside, since Odysseus himself has shown you
how he will fulfil it; and destruction appears
to all the suitors, and none will escape death and the fates.
Then the wise Penelope answered him and said:
Stranger, dreams truly are baffling and unclear in speech,
nor does everything come true for men.
For there are two gates of shadowy dreams:
one pair is made of horn, the others of ivory;
those that come through the sawn ivory,
they deceive, bearing words that are not fulfilled;
but those that come out through the polished horn,
they bring true things to pass, whenever a mortal sees them.
But I do not think that my dread dream came from there;
truly it would be welcome to me and to my son.
And another thing I will tell you, and do you lay it in your heart:
this hateful dawn is coming, which will keep me
away from Odysseus' house; for now I will set a contest,
those axes, which he used to set up in his own halls
in a row, like ship's props, all twelve of them;
and standing far off he used to shoot an arrow through them.
Now I will set this contest for the suitors:
whoever most easily strings the bow in his hands
and shoots an arrow through all twelve of the axes,
with him I will go, leaving this house,
my bridal home, very beautiful, full of life;
which I think I shall remember even in my dreams.
Then Odysseus of many devices answered her and said:
Lady, honoured wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,
no longer now put off this contest in the house;
for Odysseus of many devices will come here before
these men, handling this well-polished bow,
can string the string and shoot through the iron.
Then the wise Penelope answered him and said:
If you would wish, stranger, sitting beside me in the halls,
to delight me, sleep would never be poured upon my eyelids.
But it is in no way possible for men to be always
sleepless; for the immortals have set a portion for each one
of mortals upon the grain-giving earth.
But I will go up to the upper chamber
and lie down in my bed, which has been made sorrowful for me,
always drenched with my tears, ever since Odysseus
went to look upon evil Ilion, not to be named.
There I will lie down; but you lie down in this house,
either making a bed on the ground or on the bedding they set out.
So saying she went up to the shining upper chamber,
not alone, for the other handmaids went with her.
And going up to the upper room with the women attendants,
she wept then for Odysseus, her dear husband, until
bright-eyed Athena cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.

### Book 20

But noble Odysseus lay down to sleep in the entrance hall,
and he spread out an untanned oxhide beneath him, and on top
many sheepskins, which the Achaeans used to slaughter;
and Eurynome threw a cloak over him as he lay.
There Odysseus, plotting evil in his heart against the suitors,
lay awake; and the women came out of the hall,
the ones who had been used to sleeping with the suitors before,
giving each other laughter and merriment.
And his spirit was stirred in his own chest,
and he debated much in mind and heart,
whether he should rush on each one and kill her,
or let them lie one last time with the arrogant suitors,
for the last and final time; and his heart growled within him.
As a dog stands over her weak puppies
and barks at a man she does not know, eager to fight,
so his heart growled within him as he raged at their evil deeds;
and striking his chest he rebuked his heart with words:
Endure, heart; you have endured something even more dog-like once.
On the day when the Cyclops, raging beyond control, devoured
my sturdy comrades; you held out until your cunning
led you out of the cave, when you thought you would die.
So he said, scolding his own heart in his chest;
and his heart obeyed and held firm
without giving way; but he himself tossed back and forth.
As when a man turns a paunch full of fat and blood
over a great blazing fire, this way and that,
and is very eager for it to be roasted,
so he turned this way and that, pondering
how he would lay hands on the shameless suitors,
being alone against many. And Athena came near to him,
descending from the sky; and she made her form like a woman's;
and she stood above his head and spoke a word to him:
Why are you awake now, most wretched of all men?
This is your house, and here in the house is your wife
and your son, such as anyone might wish a son to be.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered her and said:
Yes, goddess, all this you have spoken rightly;
but my heart ponders this in my breast,
how I shall lay hands on the shameless suitors,
being alone; and they are always gathered in the house.
And besides I ponder this still greater thing in my heart:
for if I kill them by the will of Zeus and of you,
how could I escape? I bid you consider this.
Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him:
Stubborn man, even one man trusts a weaker comrade,
who is mortal and knows no such counsels;
but I am a god, who keeps you safe continually
in all your toils. And I will tell you plainly:
even if fifty companies of mortal men
should surround us two, eager to kill us in war,
you would drive off their cattle and their sturdy sheep.
But let sleep take you too; it is a grief to keep watch
awake all night, and you will soon slip out of your troubles.
So she spoke, and poured sleep upon his eyelids,
and she herself went back to Olympus, shining among goddesses.
When sleep seized him, loosening the cares of his heart,
limb-loosing sleep, his wife woke, knowing wise things;
and she wept, sitting up in her soft bed.
But when she had had her fill of weeping in her heart,
the shining one among women first prayed to Artemis:
Artemis, lady goddess, daughter of Zeus, if only now
you would strike my breast with an arrow and take my life
right now, or else a storm-wind snatch me up
and carry me off along the misty paths,
and cast me into the outflows of back-flowing Ocean.
As when the storms snatched away the daughters of Pandareus;
the gods destroyed their parents, and they were left
orphans in the halls, and shining Aphrodite cared for them
with cheese and sweet honey and pleasant wine;
and Hera gave them beauty beyond all women
and understanding, and holy Artemis gave them stature,
and Athena taught them to work glorious handiwork.
When shining Aphrodite went to tall Olympus
to ask for the girls the fulfilment of flourishing marriage—
to Zeus who delights in thunder, for he knows all things well,
both the portion and the no-portion of mortal men—
meanwhile the Harpies snatched the girls away
and gave them to the hateful Furies to serve;
so may the gods who hold Olympus make me vanish,
or may fair-tressed Artemis strike me, so that seeing Odysseus
even so I might come beneath the hateful earth,
and never gladden the mind of a lesser man.
But that evil is at least bearable, when someone
weeps by day, deeply grieved at heart,
and sleep holds him by night—for it makes him forget all things,
both good and bad, once it covers the eyelids—
but for me a god has sent evil dreams as well.
For this night there lay beside me one like him,
such as he was when he went with the army; and my heart
rejoiced, for I did not think it was a dream, but waking truth.
So she spoke, and straightway golden-throned Dawn came.
And noble Odysseus heard the voice of her weeping;
and he pondered then, and it seemed to him in his heart
that she already knew him and stood at his head.
And he gathered up the cloak and the fleeces he had slept in,
and laid them in the hall upon a chair, and the oxhide
he carried out and set outside, and prayed to Zeus with hands upraised:
Father Zeus, if you gods have willingly brought me over dry land and sea
to my own land, though you afflicted me sorely,
let someone among the waking people speak a word for me
within, and outside let another sign from Zeus appear.
So he spoke praying; and wise Zeus heard him,
and straightway thundered from bright Olympus,
from on high out of the clouds; and noble Odysseus rejoiced.
And a woman, a grinder, sent a word from the house
nearby, where the mills of the shepherd of the people stood,
and twelve women in all toiled at them
making barley and flour, the marrow of men.
The others slept, since they had finished grinding their wheat,
but one had not yet stopped, and she was the weakest;
she set the mill in place and spoke a word, a sign for the master:
Father Zeus, who rules over gods and men,
loudly indeed you thundered from the starry sky,
and there is no cloud anywhere; you are showing this as a sign to someone.
Fulfil now for me too, miserable as I am, the word I speak:
may the suitors on this day, their last and final one,
in Odysseus' halls take their lovely dinner,
who have loosened my knees with heart-grieving toil
as I make their barley; now let them dine for the last time.
So she spoke, and noble Odysseus rejoiced in the omen
and the thunder of Zeus; for he thought to punish the sinners.
And the other maids throughout the fair halls of Odysseus
gathered and kindled the tireless fire on the hearth.
And Telemachus rose from his bed, a man like a god,
put on his clothes, and slung a sharp sword over his shoulder;
and under his shining feet he bound fair sandals,
and took a stout spear, tipped with sharp bronze;
and he stood as he came to the threshold, and said to Eurycleia:
Dear nurse, did you honour the stranger in the house
with bed and food, or does he lie there uncared for?
For such is my mother, wise though she is:
at random she honours one man of mortals
who is worse, and sends a better one away dishonoured.
Then thoughtful Eurycleia answered him:
You would not now, child, blame him without cause.
For he drank wine as he sat, as long as he wished,
and said he was no longer hungry for food; for I asked him.
But when he thought of bed and sleep,
I bade the maids spread bedding for him,
but he, like a man utterly wretched and luckless,
was not willing to sleep in a bed and rugs,
but on an untanned oxhide and sheepskins
he slept in the forecourt; and we threw a cloak over him.
So she spoke, and Telemachus had gone through the hall
holding his spear, and two swift dogs followed with him.
He went to the assembly place among the well-greaved Achaeans.
And she, shining among women, called to her maids,
Eurycleia, daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor:
Bestir yourselves, some of you sweep the house busily,
and sprinkle it, and on the well-made chairs spread
purple rugs; and others with sponges wipe
all the tables, and clean the mixing bowls
and the well-made two-handled cups; and others go
to the spring for water, and bring it back quickly.
For the suitors will not be long away from the hall,
but will come very early, since it is a feast day for all.
So she spoke, and they listened to her and obeyed.
Twenty of them went to the dark-watered spring,
and the others worked skilfully about the house.
And the Achaeans' labourers came in. Then they
split wood well and skilfully, and the women
came back from the spring; and the swineherd came up to them
driving three fat hogs, the best among all.
And he let them feed in the fair pens,
and he himself spoke to Odysseus with gentle words:
Stranger, do the Achaeans treat you with more respect,
or do they dishonour you in the hall, as before?
Then much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Eumaeus, if only the gods would avenge the outrage
that these men, in their insolence, recklessly contrive
in another's house, and have no share of shame.
So they spoke such words to one another,
and close by them came Melanthius, the goatherd,
bringing goats that were outstanding among all the herds,
as dinner for the suitors. And two herdsmen followed with him.
And he tied them under the echoing portico,
and he himself spoke to Odysseus with mocking words:
Stranger, will you still now vex us here in the house
begging from men, and will you not go outside?
In any case I think the two of us will not be parted
before we taste each other's fists, since you beg
not in order; there are other feasts of the Achaeans too.
So he spoke, but much-devising Odysseus did not answer him,
but silently shook his head, brooding evil deep within.
And third came Philoetius, leader of men,
bringing a barren cow and fat goats for the suitors.
And ferrymen had brought them across, the men who also send
other people over, whoever comes to them.
And he tied them up well under the echoing portico,
and he himself questioned the swineherd, standing close by:
Who is this stranger who has newly come, swineherd,
to our house? And from what men does he claim
to be? And where is his birth and his native land?
Wretched man, yet in body he looks like a king, a lord;
but the gods plunge much-wandering men into misery,
when they spin out sorrow even for kings.
He spoke, and greeting him with his right hand as he stood by,
and he addressed him and spoke winged words:
Hail, father stranger; may there be for you hereafter
prosperity; but now you are gripped by many troubles.
Father Zeus, no other of the gods is more ruinous than you:
you do not pity men, once you have begotten them yourself,
but involve them in wickedness and wretched pains.
I broke into sweat, as I marked it, and my eyes were filled with tears
as I remembered Odysseus, for I think that even he
wanders among men wearing such rags as these,
if he still lives anywhere and sees the light of the sun.
But if he is already dead and in the house of Hades,
alas then for blameless Odysseus, who set me over the cattle
when I was still small, in the land of the Cephallenians.
But now they have become past counting, and no other man
could get such a yield of broad-browed cattle;
and others bid me bring them in for themselves
to eat; and they care nothing in the halls for the son,
nor do they tremble at the gods' vengeance; for they are eager already
to divide the possessions of the long-absent lord.
But my heart in my own dear breast
turns this over much: it is very bad, while a son lives,
to go to another people's land with the cattle themselves,
to foreign men; but it is more chilling, staying here
and sitting over others' cattle to suffer griefs.
And long ago I would have gone to some other of the over-mighty kings,
fleeing to him, since these things are no longer bearable;
but I still think of that wretched man, if from somewhere he might come
and make a scattering of the suitors through the halls.
Then much-devising Odysseus answered him and said:
Cowherd, since you seem neither a coward nor a fool,
and I myself see that understanding has come to your mind,
therefore I will tell you and swear a great oath:
Let Zeus first of the gods be my witness, and the table of hospitality
and the hearth of blameless Odysseus, which I have reached:
truly Odysseus will come home while you are here;
and with your own eyes you will see, if you wish,
the suitors being killed, who lord it here.
Then the cowherd of the cattle answered him:
If only, stranger, the son of Cronos would fulfil that word!
You would know what my strength is and what my hands can do.
So likewise Eumaeus prayed to all the gods
that wise Odysseus might return to this house.
So they spoke such words to one another,
and the suitors were preparing death and doom for Telemachus;
but an omen bird came to them from the left,
an eagle flying high, and it held a trembling dove.
Then Amphinomus spoke among them and said:
Friends, this plan will not be accomplished for us,
the murder of Telemachus; but let us think of the feast.
So spoke Amphinomus, and the word pleased them.
And they came into the halls of godlike Odysseus
and laid down their cloaks on the benches and chairs,
and they slaughtered great sheep and fat goats,
and slaughtered fat hogs and a herd cow;
and they roasted the innards and handed them out, and mixed wine
in the mixing bowls; and the swineherd handed out the cups.
And Philoetius, leader of men, served out bread to them
in fine baskets, and Melanthius poured the wine.
And they threw their hands upon the ready food set before them.
And Telemachus seated Odysseus, devising shrewdly,
inside the well-built hall, beside the stone threshold,
setting down a mean stool and a little table;
and he set beside him portions of the innards, and poured wine
into a golden cup, and spoke a word to him:
Stay here now among the men and drink your wine;
and I myself will keep off taunts and blows
from all the suitors, since this house is not
a public house, but Odysseus', and he won it for me.
But you, suitors, hold back your hearts from abuse
and blows, so that no strife and quarrel arises.
So he spoke, and all of them bit their lips with their teeth,
marvelling at Telemachus, that he spoke so boldly.
Then Antinous spoke among them, son of Eupeithes:
Though it is harsh, let us accept the word, Achaeans,
from Telemachus; for he speaks to us with great threats.
Zeus the son of Cronos did not allow it; else we would have
stopped him in the halls, clear-voiced speaker though he is.
So spoke Antinous; but he paid no heed to their words.
And heralds were leading the holy hecatomb of the gods
through the town; and the long-haired Achaeans gathered
beneath the shady grove of far-shooting Apollo.
And when they had roasted the upper cuts of meat and drawn them off,
they divided the portions and shared a glorious feast;
and those who served set beside Odysseus a portion
equal to what they themselves got; for so had ordered
Telemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus.
But Athena did not at all allow the haughty suitors
to refrain from heart-grieving outrage, so that grief might come
still more upon the heart of Odysseus, son of Laertes.
There was a man among the suitors who knew lawless things,
Ctesippus was his name, and he lived in a house on Same;
who, trusting in his marvellous possessions,
was wooing the wife of the long-absent Odysseus.
He then spoke among the overweening suitors:
Hear me, haughty suitors, that I may say something:
The stranger has long had his portion, as is proper,
an equal one; for it is not fine or just to stint
the guests of Telemachus, whoever comes to this house.
But come, let me too give him a guest-gift, so that he himself
may give it as a gift to the bath-pourer or to some other
of the slaves who are about the halls of godlike Odysseus.
So saying, he hurled with his stout hand an ox's hoof,
taking it from the basket where it lay; and Odysseus dodged it
leaning his head slightly aside, and he smiled in his heart
a very sardonic smile; and it hit the well-built wall.
Then Telemachus rebuked Ctesippus with a word:
Ctesippus, truly this turned out better for your heart—
you did not hit the stranger; for he dodged the missile himself.
For I would have struck you in the middle with a sharp spear,
and instead of a wedding your father would have been busied with a grave
here. Therefore let no one show me unseemly behaviour in the house;
for now I notice and know each thing,
both good and worse; before I was still a child.
But even so we have endured seeing these things,
the sheep being slaughtered and the wine being drunk
and the bread; for it is hard for one man to hold back many.
But come, no longer do me harm in your hostility;
but if you are now eager to kill me myself with bronze,
then I would wish it, and it would be far better
to be dead than always to look on these unseemly deeds,
strangers being manhandled and slave women
dragged about shamefully through the fair halls.
So he spoke, and all of them fell silent in stillness;
and at last Agelaus, son of Damastor, spoke among them:
Friends, no one could find fault with a word justly spoken
and be angry, attacking it with words of opposition;
neither manhandle the stranger nor any other
of the slaves who are about the halls of godlike Odysseus.
And to Telemachus and his mother I would speak
a gentle word, if it pleased the heart of them both.
As long as your heart in your breasts hoped
that wise Odysseus would return to this house,
so long there was no blame in waiting and holding back
the suitors in the halls, since this was better,
in case Odysseus returned and came back home;
but now this is clear, that he will never return.
But come, sit beside your mother and tell her this,
to marry whichever man is best and offers the most dowry,
so that you may joyfully enjoy all your father's wealth,
eating and drinking, and she may keep another man's house.
Then prudent Telemachus answered him:
No, by Zeus, Agelaus, and by my father's sorrows,
who somewhere far from Ithaca has perished or wanders,
I do not delay my mother's marriage, but I bid her
marry whomever she wishes, and I give countless gifts besides.
But I am ashamed to drive her from the hall against her will
with a compelling word; may god not bring that about.
So spoke Telemachus; and Pallas Athena roused
unstoppable laughter in the suitors, and warped their minds.
And they were already laughing with jaws that were not their own,
and they were eating meat bloody with gore; and their eyes
were filled with tears, and their heart foresaw lamentation.
Then godlike Theoclymenus spoke among them:
Ah, wretched men, what evil is this you suffer? Night covers
your heads and faces and your knees below.
Lamentation blazes, your cheeks are wet with tears,
the walls and the fair roof-beams are spattered with blood;
the porch is full of ghosts, and the courtyard is full too,
hurrying down to Erebos beneath the darkness; and the sun
has perished from the sky, and an evil mist has spread over it.
So he spoke, and all of them laughed sweetly at him.
Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak among them:
The stranger who has newly come from elsewhere is raving.
But quickly, young men, send him out of the house to the door
to go to the assembly place, since this seems like night.
Then godlike Theoclymenus answered him:
Eurymachus, I do not bid you give me escorts;
I have eyes and ears and both my feet
and a mind in my breast furnished with nothing unseemly.
With these I will go outside, since I see an evil coming upon you
that no one of the suitors could escape or avoid,
who in the house of godlike Odysseus
contrive reckless outrages against men in your insolence.
So saying he went out of the well-built house,
and came to Peiraeus, who gladly received him.
And all the suitors, looking at one another,
kept provoking Telemachus, laughing at the strangers;
and thus one of the overweening young men would say:
Telemachus, no one is worse than you at hosting guests;
what a beggarly vagabond you keep, this one,
in need of food and wine, and with no skill in work
or strength, but just a burden on the earth.
And here is another who stood up to prophesy.
But if you would listen to me in something, it would be far better:
let us throw these strangers into a many-benched ship
and send them to the Sicels, from where a price worth having would come to you.
So spoke the suitors; but he paid no heed to their words,
but in silence kept looking at his father, ever waiting
for the moment when he would lay hands on the shameless suitors.
And she, having set a very beautiful chair facing them,
the daughter of Icarius, thoughtful Penelope,
heard the words of each of the men in the halls.
For they had made their dinner, laughing as they did,
sweet and satisfying, since they had sacrificed many beasts;
but no supper could ever have been more thankless,
such as the goddess and the mighty man were soon to set before them;
for they had been the first to contrive unseemly deeds.

### Book 21

Bright-eyed Athene put it into her mind,
the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,
to set the bow and the grey iron before the suitors
in Odysseus' hall, a contest and the start of slaughter.
She climbed the high staircase of her own house,
and took in her stout hand a well-bent key,
a lovely one of bronze, and its handle was of ivory.
She went to the innermost storeroom with her women servants,
where the treasures of the lord lay stored,
bronze and gold and iron worked with much toil.
There lay the back-springing bow and the quiver,
the arrow-holder, and inside were many groaning arrows,
gifts that a guest had given him in Lacedaemon,
Iphitus son of Eurytus, like the immortal gods.
The two had met each other in Messene,
in the house of warlike Ortilochus. Odysseus
had come for a debt that all the people owed him;
for Messenian men had carried off from Ithaca
three hundred sheep in their many-benched ships, and the herdsmen too.
For their sake Odysseus went on that long journey,
though he was a boy; his father sent him, and the other elders.
And Iphitus was seeking his horses that were lost,
twelve mares, and the mules that labour under the yoke;
and these afterwards became his death and his fate,
when he came to the strong-hearted son of Zeus,
Heracles, a man who knew great deeds,
who killed him, though he was his guest, in his own house,
the cruel man, and had no shame before the gods nor before the table
that he had set before him; and then he killed him too,
and kept the strong-hoofed horses in his halls himself.
Seeking these, Iphitus met Odysseus and gave him the bow,
which great Eurytus had carried before, but he left it to his son
when he died, in his high-roofed halls.
And to him Odysseus gave a sharp sword and a strong spear,
the beginning of a kindly friendship; yet at the table
the two never knew each other; for before that the son of Zeus had killed
Iphitus son of Eurytus, like the immortals,
who had given him the bow. And never did noble Odysseus
take it with him when he went to war on the black ships,
but it lay there in his halls, a memorial of a dear guest-friend,
and he carried it only in his own land.
And when she, the shining among women, came to that storeroom
and stepped on the oaken threshold, which a craftsman once
had smoothed with skill and trued to the line,
and set the doorposts in it and hung the shining doors,
at once she quickly loosed the strap from the hook,
and put in the key, and knocked back the bolts of the doors,
aiming straight at them; and they bellowed like a bull
grazing in a meadow; so bellowed the lovely doors
when the key struck them, and they flew open quickly.
She stepped up onto the high platform, where the chests
stood, and fragrant clothing lay in them.
Reaching up from there she took the bow from its peg,
with its own case, which shone all about it.
Sitting down right there she laid it on her knees,
and wept very loudly, and took up the lord's bow.
But when she had had her fill of much-weeping lament,
she went to the hall among the proud suitors,
holding in her hand the back-springing bow and the quiver,
the arrow-holder; and many groaning arrows were inside.
Her women servants carried a box, in which iron
lay in abundance, and bronze, the prizes of the lord.
And when she, the shining among women, came to the suitors,
she stood beside the doorpost of the well-built roof,
holding her shining headband before her cheeks.
And a trusty servant stood beside her on either side.
At once she spoke to the suitors and said a word:
"Hear me, bold suitors, who by your constant eating
and drinking have worn down this house,
while the man has been gone a long time; and no other
excuse for your talk could you make,
except that you wished to marry me and make me your wife.
Come then, suitors, since this contest is set before you.
For I will set out the great bow of godlike Odysseus;
whoever strings it most easily in his hands
and shoots through all twelve of the axes,
him I will follow, leaving this house,
my marriage house, very lovely, full of livelihood,
which I think I will remember even in a dream."
So she spoke, and she ordered Eumaeus, the noble swineherd,
to set the bow and the grey iron before the suitors.
Eumaeus took them weeping and laid them down;
the cowherd wept too, when he saw the bow of the lord.
Antinous rebuked them and spoke and called them by name:
"You foolish country men, thinking only of the day before you,
you wretches, why do you let tears fall and stir up
the heart in her breast? Her heart already
lies in sorrow, since she lost her dear husband.
But sit and feast in silence, or go outside
and weep, leaving the bow here,
an unbroken contest for the suitors; for I do not think
this well-polished bow is easily strung.
For there is no such man among all these here
as Odysseus was; and I myself have seen him,
for I have a memory of it, though I was still a young child."
So he spoke, but in his breast his heart hoped
to string the bow and shoot through the iron.
Truly he was to be the first to taste the arrow
from the hands of blameless Odysseus, whom he then dishonoured
as he sat in the hall, and stirred up all his companions.
And sacred Telemachus' strength spoke among them too:
"Ah me, surely Zeus the son of Cronos has made me foolish!
My own dear mother says to me, wise though she is,
that she will follow another and leave this house;
and I laugh and take pleasure in my foolish heart.
Come then, suitors, since this contest is set before you,
since there is no woman now in the land of Achaea,
neither in holy Pylos nor in Argos nor in Mycenae,
nor in Ithaca itself nor on the dark mainland;
and you yourselves know this; why should I praise my mother?
Come, do not put me off with excuses, nor any longer
turn away from the bow that must be strung, so that we may see.
And I myself could try this bow;
for if I string it and shoot through the iron,
then my honoured mother would not, grieving for me, leave these halls
and go with another man, when I am left behind
able now to take up my father's fine prizes."
He spoke, and sprang up straight and took the purple cloak from his shoulders,
and took the sharp sword from his shoulders.
First he set up the axes, after digging one long trench
for them all, and trued it to a line,
and heaped the earth around; wonder seized all who saw it,
how neatly he set them; before that he had never seen it done.
He went and stood on the threshold and tried the bow.
Three times he shook it, eager to draw it,
three times he let his strength rest, hoping in his heart
to string the bow and shoot through the iron.
And now he would have strung it, drawing the fourth time with force,
but Odysseus shook his head and held him back, eager as he was.
And again sacred Telemachus' strength spoke among them:
"Ah me, so I will be a coward and a weakling,
or I am too young and do not yet trust my hands
to fight off a man when someone first gets angry.
Come then, you who are stronger than I am,
try the bow, and let us finish the contest."
So he spoke, and set the bow down on the ground away from him,
leaning it against the close-jointed polished panels,
and leaned the swift arrow against the fine horn tip,
and sat down again on the chair from which he had risen.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them:
"Rise up in order, all you companions, from the right,
beginning from the place where he pours the wine."
So spoke Antinous, and his word pleased them.
Leiodes rose first, son of Oenops,
who was their diviner, and always sat
at the lovely mixing bowl in the innermost corner; and reckless deeds alone
were hateful to him, and he was angry with all the suitors.
He then was the first to take the bow and the swift arrow.
He went and stood on the threshold and tried the bow,
but he did not string it; before that his hands grew tired drawing,
untrained and soft; then he spoke to the suitors:
"Friends, I cannot string it; let another take it too.
For this bow will rob many of the best men
of their spirit and life, since it is far better
to die than to live and fail the thing for which
we gather here always, waiting every day.
Now indeed someone hopes in his heart and longs
to marry Penelope, Odysseus' wife.
But when he has tried the bow and seen it,
let him then woo some other of the well-robed Achaean women
with gifts, seeking her; and she may then
marry whoever gives the most and comes as her fate."
So he spoke, and set the bow down from him,
leaning it against the close-jointed polished panels,
and leaned the swift arrow against the fine horn tip,
and sat down again on the chair from which he had risen.
Antinous rebuked him and spoke and called him by name:
"Leiodes, what kind of word escaped the fence of your teeth,
dreadful and painful — and I am angry to hear it —
if this bow will rob the best men
of their spirit and life, because you cannot string it.
For your honoured mother did not bear you
to be a stringer of a bow and a shooter of arrows;
but other proud suitors will soon string it."
So he spoke, and ordered Melanthius, the goatherd of goats:
"Come now, Melanthius, light a fire in the hall,
and set a great chair beside it and a fleece on top of it,
and bring out a great wheel of fat from what is inside,
so that we young men, warming it and rubbing it with grease,
may try the bow and finish the contest."
So he spoke, and Melanthius quickly lit the tireless fire,
and brought and set a chair beside it and a fleece on top,
and brought out a great wheel of fat from what was inside;
with that the young men warmed the bow and tried; but they could not
string it, for they fell far short of strength.
Antinous still held back, and godlike Eurymachus,
the leaders of the suitors; they were far the best in courage.
And the two went out of the house together,
the cowherd and the swineherd of godlike Odysseus;
and noble Odysseus himself came out of the house after them.
But when they were outside the doors and the courtyard,
he spoke and addressed them with gentle words:
"Cowherd, and you, swineherd, shall I tell you a word,
or keep it hidden myself? My heart urges me to speak.
What sort of men would you be to defend Odysseus, if he came from somewhere
right here so suddenly, or some god brought him?
Would you defend the suitors or Odysseus?
Say it as your heart and spirit command you."
And the keeper of cattle answered him:
"Father Zeus, if only you would fulfil this wish,
that that man would come, and some god lead him here;
then you would know what my strength is and what my hands can do."
In the same way Eumaeus prayed to all the gods
that wise Odysseus might return to this house.
But when he had read their mind as true,
he answered them again and spoke:
"Here I am, inside — I myself, after suffering many troubles,
have come to my homeland in the twentieth year.
I know that I have come to you two alone of the servants as men who long for me;
for of the others I have heard not one
praying that I might come back home again.
But to you two, as it will be, I will tell the truth.
If a god subdues the proud suitors under me,
I will bring wives for both of you and give you possessions
and houses built near mine; and after that
you two will be companions and brothers to Telemachus.
But come now, I will show you another very clear sign,
so that you may know me well and trust me in your heart:
the scar, which a boar once struck with its white tusk
when I went to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus."
So he spoke, and drew the rags away from the great scar.
And when the two saw it and marked each thing well,
they wept and threw their arms around wise Odysseus,
and kept kissing his head and his shoulders in welcome.
And in the same way Odysseus kissed their heads and their hands.
And the light of the sun would have set on them as they wept,
if Odysseus himself had not stopped them and spoken:
"Stop your weeping and wailing, in case someone sees
and comes out of the hall and tells the others inside.
But go in one at a time, not all together,
I first, then you; and let this be the sign:
for all the others, as many as are proud suitors,
will not let me be given the bow and the quiver;
but you, noble Eumaeus, carry the bow through the house
and put it into my hands, and tell the women
to lock the closely fitted doors of the hall;
and if anyone hears groaning or a noise inside
among our men within the walls, let no one
come out, but stay quiet there at her work.
And to you, noble Philoetius, I command
to lock the doors of the courtyard with the key, and quickly tie the fastening."
So he spoke and went into the well-built house;
he went and sat down on the chair from which he had risen;
and the two servants also went into the house of godlike Odysseus.
Eurymachus was already handling the bow in his hands,
warming it this way and that at the flame of the fire; but even so
he could not string it, and he groaned greatly in his proud heart.
Troubled, he spoke a word and said and named him:
"Ah me, grief is mine for myself and for all of us.
I do not grieve so much for the marriage, troubled as I am;
for there are many other Achaean women, some in Ithaca itself
ringed by the sea, and some in other cities;
but if we are so much short of strength
compared with godlike Odysseus, since we cannot string
the bow — a disgrace even for those to come to hear of."
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:
"Eurymachus, it will not be so; you know it yourself.
For now throughout the land it is the holy feast of the god;
who would string a bow? But set it quietly
down; and let us let all the axes stand there too;
for I do not think anyone will carry them off,
coming into the hall of Laertes' son Odysseus.
Come, let the wine-pourer make the first offering with the cups,
so that after pouring a libation we may set down the curved bows;
and at dawn tell Melanthius, the goatherd of goats,
to bring goats, which stand out far above all his herds,
so that setting thigh pieces for Apollo, famous with the bow,
we may try the bow and finish the contest."
So spoke Antinous, and their plan pleased them.
Heralds poured water over their hands,
and young men filled the mixing bowls with drink,
and served it to all, after the first offering, with cups.
And when they had poured and drunk as much as their heart wished,
then Odysseus of many wiles spoke to them with a crafty mind:
"Hear me, suitors of the far-famed queen,
so that I may say what my heart in my breast commands me.
I beg Eurymachus especially, and godlike Antinous,
since he has also spoken this word fittingly:
to stop the bow for now, and leave it to the gods;
in the morning the god will give victory to whomever he wishes.
Come, give me the polished bow, so that among you
I may test my hands and my strength, whether I still have
the power that once was in my supple limbs,
or whether wandering and neglect have already destroyed it for me."
So he spoke, and all of them were outraged beyond measure,
afraid that he might string the polished bow.
Antinous rebuked him and spoke and called him by name:
"You wretch of a stranger, you have no sound sense in you!
Are you not content that you feast in peace among us proud men,
and are not cheated of your share of the feast, but you listen
to our words and our talk? No other stranger
or beggar hears our words. Sweet wine hurts you,
the honey-sweet wine that harms others too, whoever
gulps it down and does not drink in measure.
Wine drove even the Centaur, famous Eurytion,
mad in the hall of great-hearted Peirithous,
when he came to the Lapiths; and when wine ruined his wits,
raging he did evil deeds in Peirithous' house;
grief seized the heroes, and they sprang up and dragged him
through the doorway and outside, and cut off his ears and his nose
with pitiless bronze; and he, ruined in his own mind,
went on bearing his own folly with a foolish heart.
From that time quarrelling arose between Centaurs and men,
and he first found evil for himself by being heavy with wine.
So I foretell great trouble for you too, if you string
that bow; for you will meet with no kindness
in our land, but at once in a black ship
we will send you to king Echetus, the destroyer of all mortals;
from there you will never be saved. But quietly
drink, and do not quarrel with younger men."
Then wise Penelope answered him:
"Antinous, it is neither fine nor just
to slight the guests of Telemachus, whoever comes to this house.
Do you expect that if this stranger strings Odysseus' great bow
and trusts in his hands and his strength,
he will take me home and make me his wife?
He himself surely does not hope that in his breast;
and let none of you feast here grieving in his heart
for that reason, since that is not fitting either."
Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her:
"Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope,
we do not think he will take you home; that is not fitting.
But we are ashamed before the talk of men and women,
in case some other, worse Achaean should say:
'Far worse men than he woo the wife
of a blameless man, and cannot even string
his polished bow; but some beggar stranger came wandering in
and easily strung the bow and shot through the iron.'
So they will say, and that would be a disgrace to us."
Then wise Penelope answered him:
"Eurymachus, it is in no way possible for men to be well spoken of
in the land who dishonour and eat up the house
of a noble man. Why do you count this a disgrace?
This stranger here is very big and well built,
and he claims to be born the son of a noble father.
Come, give him the polished bow, so that we may see.
For I will say this, and it will also be brought to pass:
if he strings it, and Apollo grants him glory,
I will dress him in a cloak and tunic, fine clothes,
and I will give him a sharp spear, a defence against dogs and men,
and a two-edged sword; and I will give him sandals for his feet,
and I will send him wherever his heart and spirit command."
Then wise Telemachus answered her:
"My mother, no one of the Achaeans has more power than I
to give or refuse it to whomever I wish,
neither all who rule rocky Ithaca,
nor all who hold the islands toward horse-pasturing Elis;
none of them will force me against my will, if I wish
to give this bow outright to the stranger to carry away.
But go into the house and attend to your own work,
the loom and the distaff, and tell your women
to go about their work; the bow will be a care for men,
for all of them, and most of all for me; for the power in this house is mine."
She was amazed and went back into the house;
for she laid her son's wise word to heart.
She went up to the upper room with her women servants,
and then wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until sweet sleep
Athene of the bright eyes cast upon her eyelids.
But the noble swineherd took up the curved bow and carried it;
and all the suitors shouted at him in the hall;
and one of the over-proud young men said:
"Where are you carrying the curved bow, you wretched swineherd,
you vagabond? Soon the swift dogs will eat you beside your pigs,
alone, away from men, whom you raised, if Apollo
and the other immortal gods are gracious to us."
So they spoke, but he carried it and set it down in that same place,
afraid, because many were shouting in the hall.
But Telemachus from the other side called out with a threat:
"Father, carry the bow forward; soon you will not obey everyone well;
or I, though younger, will chase you into the fields,
throwing stones at you; for I am stronger in force.
If only I were as much stronger than all the suitors
in hands and strength, as many of them as are in the house!
Then I would soon send someone home in misery
out of our house, since they plot evil."
So he spoke, and all the suitors laughed sweetly at him,
and the suitors let go of their harsh anger
against Telemachus; and the swineherd carried the bow through the house
and stood beside wise Odysseus and put it into his hands.
He called the nurse Eurycleia and spoke to her:
"Telemachus asks you, wise Eurycleia,
to lock the closely fitted doors of the hall.
And if anyone hears groaning or a noise inside
among our men within the walls, let no one
come out, but stay quiet there at her work."
So he spoke, and her word was wingless — she needed no second telling —
and she locked the doors of the well-built hall.
And silently Philoetius sprang out of the house,
and then locked the doors of the well-fenced courtyard.
Under the portico lay the cable of a curved ship,
made of papyrus, with which he tied the doors, and went back inside;
he went and sat down on the chair from which he had risen,
watching Odysseus. And he was already handling the bow,
turning it all over, trying it this way and that,
in case worms had eaten the horn while the lord was away.
And one of them said, looking at his neighbour:
"This man must be a connoisseur and a thief of bows;
or maybe such a bow lies at his home,
or he wants to make one, since he handles it in his hands
this way and that, the wicked wandering beggar."
Another of the over-proud young men said:
"If only he could get as much profit
as he will ever be able to string this bow."
So the suitors spoke; but Odysseus of many wiles,
as soon as he had lifted the great bow and looked it over everywhere,
just as a man skilled in the lyre and in song
easily stretches a string around a new peg,
fastening the twisted sheep-gut on both ends,
so without effort Odysseus strung the great bow.
Taking it in his right hand he tried the string;
and it sang beautifully under his hand, like the voice of a swallow.
Great grief came to the suitors, and the skin
of all of them changed; and Zeus thundered loudly, showing signs.
And much-enduring noble Odysseus rejoiced,
because the son of Cronos of the crooked counsel had sent him the sign.
He took a swift arrow, which lay beside him on the table,
bare; the others lay inside the hollow quiver,
the ones the Achaeans were soon to try.
Taking it by the middle he drew the string and the notches,
sitting there on his chair, and shot the arrow,
aiming straight; he did not miss any of the axes,
from the first handle, and straight through
came the bronze-heavy arrow; and he spoke to Telemachus:
"Telemachus, the stranger sitting in your hall has not disgraced you,
nor have I missed the mark, nor did I toil long
in stringing the bow; my strength is still firm,
not as the suitors supposed in their contempt.
Now it is time for dinner to be made ready for the Achaeans
in the light, and afterwards to make merry in another way
with song and lyre; for these are the things that go with a feast."
He spoke and nodded with his brows; and he put on the sharp sword,
Telemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus,
and laid his dear hand on the spear, and close beside him
he stood by the chair, armed in the flashing bronze.

### Book 22

But Odysseus of many plans stripped off his rags,
and jumped up onto the big threshold, holding the bow and the quiver
that was full of arrows, and he poured the swift arrows out
right there in front of his feet, and then he spoke to the suitors:
"This contest that no one can escape is now finished.
Now I will try another target, which no man has hit yet,
to see if I can hit it, and may Apollo give me the glory."
He spoke, and aimed the bitter arrow straight at Antinous.
The man was just about to lift up a fine cup,
a golden one with two handles, and he was already holding it in his hands
to drink some wine; and murder was not in his mind,
he had no care for it. Who among men at a feast
would think, one man alone among so many, even if he were very strong,
that someone would bring him death and black doom?
Odysseus hit him with an arrow, aiming at his throat,
and the point went straight out through his soft neck.
He tipped over to one side, and the cup fell from his hand
as he was struck, and at once through his nostrils came a thick stream
of a man's blood; and quickly he pushed the table away from him
with a kick of his foot, and spilled the food onto the ground;
bread and roast meat were trampled together. And the suitors
shouted through the house, when they saw the man had fallen,
and they sprang up from their seats, shaken, through the hall,
staring everywhere at the well-built walls;
but there was no shield anywhere, nor a strong spear to grab.
And they abused Odysseus with angry words:
"Stranger, you shoot at men like a villain. You will not
meet any more contests; now your sure destruction is here.
For now you have killed the man who was by far the best
of the young men in Ithaca; so the vultures will eat you here."
So each man spoke, because they thought the man had not meant
to kill him; but the fools did not understand
that the ends of destruction were fastened on them all too.
Then with a scowl Odysseus of many plans spoke to them:
"You dogs! You never thought I would come back home
from the land of the Trojans, since you were destroying my house,
and sleeping with my slave women by force,
and courting my wife while I was still alive,
not fearing the gods who hold the wide heaven,
nor any human revenge that would come later.
Now the ends of destruction are fastened on you all."
So he spoke, and pale fear took them all,
and each man looked around for where he might escape sure death.
And Eurymachus alone answered him and said:
"If you really are Odysseus of Ithaca, come back,
then what you said is fair, all that the Achaeans did,
many reckless things in the halls, and many in the fields.
But the man who was the cause of it all now lies dead,
Antinous; for he was the one who started these deeds,
not so much wanting the marriage or needing it,
but planning other things, which the son of Cronos did not accomplish for him,
so that he might be king over the people of well-built Ithaca
himself, and might kill your son by ambush.
But now he has fallen as his fate decreed, so spare your own people;
and we afterwards, making amends throughout the land
for everything that has been drunk and eaten in your halls,
each bringing a payment of twenty oxen,
both bronze and gold we will pay back, until your heart
warms; and before that, being angry is no blame."
Then with a scowl Odysseus of many plans spoke to him:
"Eurymachus, not even if you gave me back all your fathers' property,
all that you now have, and added whatever else from somewhere,
not even then would I keep my hands from the killing
until the suitors pay for all their transgression.
Now it lies before you: either to fight face to face
or to run, whichever escapes death and the fates;
but I do not think anyone will escape sure destruction."
So he spoke, and their knees went weak and their hearts too.
Then Eurymachus spoke to them a second time:
"Friends, this man will not hold back his terrible hands,
but since he has taken the well-polished bow and the quiver,
from the smooth threshold he will shoot, until he
kills us all; so let us remember our fighting.
Draw your swords and hold up the tables
against the swift-killing arrows; and let us all go at him
together, in case we can push him off the threshold and the doors,
and go up into the town, and raise the alarm as fast as possible;
then this man would soon shoot for the last time."
So he said, and drew his sharp sword,
bronze, sharpened on both sides, and jumped at him
shouting horribly; and at the same moment noble Odysseus
let an arrow fly, and hit him beside the breast at the nipple,
and drove the swift shaft into his liver; and from his hand
the sword fell to the ground, and he doubled over the table
and fell, bent forward, and spilled the food on the ground
and the two-handled cup; and he beat the ground with his forehead
in anguish of heart, and with both feet
kicking the chair he shook it; and a mist poured over his eyes.
And Amphinomus rushed straight at glorious Odysseus,
and drew his sharp sword,
in case he might get past him from the doors. But Telemachus
got there first and struck him from behind with the bronze spear
between the shoulders, and drove it through his chest;
and he fell with a thud, and beat the earth with all his forehead.
And Telemachus jumped back, leaving the long-shadowed spear
there in Amphinomus; for he was greatly afraid that some Achaean
might stab him as he pulled out the long-shadowed spear,
rushing with a sword, or hit him as he bent forward.
He ran, and very quickly reached his dear father,
and standing close he spoke winged words:
"Father, now I will bring you a shield and two spears
and a helmet all of bronze, fitted to your temples,
and I will put armour on myself as I come, and I will give the swineherd
and the cowherd others; for it is better to be armed."
Then Odysseus of many plans answered him and said:
"Bring them running, while I still have arrows to defend myself,
in case they drive me away from the doors when I am alone."
So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father,
and went to the store-room, where his famous armour lay.
From there he took four shields, and eight spears,
and four bronze helmets with horsehair crests;
he went carrying them, and very quickly reached his dear father,
and he himself first put the bronze on his body;
and in the same way the two servants put on the fine armour,
and they stood on either side of Odysseus, the crafty-minded one.
And he, as long as he had arrows to defend himself,
all that time he kept hitting one suitor after another in his own house,
aiming carefully; and they fell in heaps.
But when the arrows ran out for the lord as he shot,
he leaned the bow against the door-post of the well-built hall,
to stand there, against the shining wall;
and he himself put a four-layered shield over his shoulders,
and on his strong head he put a well-made helmet,
with horsehair, and the crest nodded terribly above;
and he took two strong spears, tipped with bronze.
Now there was a small side-door in the well-built wall,
and at the very top, by the threshold of the well-built hall,
there was a way into a passage, and well-fitted boards closed it.
Odysseus told the noble swineherd to watch it,
standing close beside it; for there was only one way of attack.
And Agelaus spoke among them, saying a word to all:
"Friends, couldn't someone go up by the side-door
and tell the people, and raise the alarm as fast as possible?
then this man would soon shoot for the last time."
And Melanthius the goatherd answered him again:
"There is no way, Agelaus, Zeus-nurtured; for terribly near
are the fine doors of the courtyard and the painful mouth of the passage;
and one man, if he were brave, could hold them all off.
But come, let me bring you armour to put on
from the store-room; for inside, I think, and nowhere else
did Odysseus and his glorious son put the armour."
So he spoke, and Melanthius the goatherd went up,
into the store-rooms of Odysseus through the gaps in the hall.
From there he took twelve shields, and as many spears
and as many bronze helmets with horsehair crests;
he went, and very quickly brought them and gave them to the suitors.
And then the knees of Odysseus went weak and his heart too,
when he saw them putting on the armour with their hands and shaking
the long spears; and it seemed a great task to him.
And at once he spoke winged words to Telemachus:
"Telemachus, surely one of the women in the halls
is stirring up this evil war against us two, or else Melanthius."
And Telemachus, sensible, answered him:
"Father, I myself made this mistake, and no one else
is to blame, I who left the close-fitted door of the store-room
standing open; but their lookout was better than mine."
"But come, noble Eumaeus, shut the door of the store-room
and see whether it is one of the women who is doing this,
or the son of Dolius, Melanthius, whom I suspect."
So the two of them spoke such things to each other,
and Melanthius the goatherd went back to the store-room
to carry the fine armour. And the noble swineherd noticed him,
and at once spoke to Odysseus, who was near:
"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices,
that man there again, the destroyer, whom we ourselves suspected,
is going to the store-room; so tell me truly
whether I should kill him, if I get the better of him,
or bring him to you here, so that he may pay for the transgressions,
the many that this man has plotted in your house."
Then Odysseus of many plans answered him and said:
"I and Telemachus will hold back the lordly suitors
inside the halls, however eager they are.
And you two twist his feet and his hands up above
and throw him into the store-room, and tie the boards behind him,
and after tying a woven rope to him
drag him up a tall pillar and bring him close to the beams,
so that he may live a long time and suffer hard pains."
So he spoke, and they heard him well and obeyed,
and they went into the store-room, and he did not notice they were inside.
He searched for armour in the back of the store-room,
and the two stood on either side by the door-posts, waiting.
And when Melanthius the goatherd stepped over the threshold,
carrying a fine helmet in one hand,
and in the other a broad old shield, covered with mould,
the hero Laertes' shield, which he used to carry when he was young;
then it lay there, and the stitches of its straps had come loose.
And the two rushed him and seized him and dragged him inside
by the hair, and threw him on the floor, grieved at heart,
and tied his feet and hands with a painful bond,
twisting them well right round, just as he had ordered
the son of Laertes, much-enduring noble Odysseus;
and after tying a woven rope to him
they dragged him up a tall pillar and brought him close to the beams.
And mocking him you said, Eumaeus the swineherd:
"Now indeed, Melanthius, you will keep watch all night,
lying in a soft bed, as is fitting for you;
nor will early-born golden-throned Dawn, from the streams of Ocean,
pass you by as she comes, when you drive
the goats to the suitors through the house to make them a meal."
So he was left there, stretched in a deadly bond;
and the two put on their armour, and shut the shining door,
and went to Odysseus, crafty-minded, of many devices.
There they stood breathing fury, some at the threshold,
four of them, and others inside the halls, many and good.
And close to them came the daughter of Zeus, Athena,
looking like Mentor in body and in voice.
And Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her and spoke a word:
"Mentor, ward off ruin, and remember your dear comrade,
who used to do you good; and you are of my own age."
So he spoke, thinking she was Athena, rouser of armies.
And the suitors shouted from the other side in the halls;
first Agelaus, son of Damastor, rebuked her:
"Mentor, don't let Odysseus persuade you with words
to fight the suitors, and to defend him himself.
For I think our plan will turn out like this:
when we have killed these two, the father and the son,
then you too will be among them, doing what you want
to do in the halls; and you will pay with your own head.
But when we have taken away your strength with bronze,
all the possessions you have, both inside and outside,
we will mix with Odysseus' property; and we will not let
your sons live in the halls, nor your daughters,
nor your wedded wife walk about the city of Ithaca."
So he spoke, and Athena grew angrier in her heart,
and she rebuked Odysseus with angry words:
"No longer, Odysseus, is your might steady, nor any courage
such as when for Helen of the white arms, of noble father,
nine years you fought the Trojans without stopping,
and you killed many men in dread battle,
and by your plan the wide-streeted city of Priam was taken.
How then now, when you have come to your own home and property,
do you wail before the suitors that you are brave?
But come here, my friend, stand by me and see the work,
so that you may know what kind of man among hostile men
Mentor son of Alcimus is, at repaying good deeds."
She spoke, and did not yet wholly grant the victory that tips the scale,
but still she tested the strength and courage
of both Odysseus and his glorious son.
And she herself, up on the roof-beam of the smoky hall,
sat, having sprung up, like a swallow to look at.
And Agelaus son of Damastor urged on the suitors,
and Eurynomus and Amphimedon and Demoptolem,
and Peisander son of Polyctor and clever Polybus;
for these were by far the best of the suitors in bravery,
as many as were still alive and fighting for their lives;
but the bow and the thick-falling arrows had already beaten them.
And Agelaus spoke among them, saying a word to all:
"Friends, now this man will hold back his terrible hands;
and look, Mentor has gone off, after empty boasting,
and those two are left alone at the front doors.
So now don't all hurl your long spears at once,
but come, let the six of you throw first, in case Zeus
grants that Odysseus is hit, and we win the glory.
For the others there is no worry, once this man has fallen."
So he spoke, and they all threw, just as he ordered,
eager; but Athena made them all useless,
one of them hit the door-post of the well-built hall,
another the closely fitted door;
another's bronze-heavy ash spear fell against the wall.
But when they had dodged the spears of the suitors,
then much-enduring noble Odysseus began to speak among them:
"Friends, now I would say that we too should throw
into the crowd of the suitors, who are eager
to kill us, on top of their earlier crimes."
So he spoke, and they all threw sharp spears,
aiming straight ahead; Odysseus hit Demoptolem,
and Telemachus Eurydamas, and the swineherd Elatus,
and the cowherd of the cattle killed Peisander.
Then all of them alike bit the boundless earth with their teeth,
and the suitors drew back to the back of the hall;
and the others rushed up and took the spears from the dead.
And again the suitors threw sharp spears,
eager; but Athena made most of them useless,
one of them hit the door-post of the well-built hall,
another the closely fitted door;
another's bronze-heavy ash spear fell against the wall.
And Amphimedon hit Telemachus on the wrist of his hand
a grazing blow, and the bronze broke the top skin.
And Ctesippus with his long spear over the swineherd's shield
grazed his shoulder; and the spear flew over and fell to the ground.
And the others again around Odysseus, crafty-minded and full of tricks,
threw sharp spears into the crowd of the suitors.
Then again Odysseus, sacker of cities, hit Eurydamas,
and Telemachus Amphimedon, and the swineherd Polybus;
and then Ctesippus the cowherd of the cattle
hit in the chest, and boasting he called out:
"Son of Polytherses, lover of mockery, never again
in your foolishness give in to speaking big words, but to the gods
hand over the word, since they are far stronger.
This is your guest-gift in return for the foot you once gave
to godlike Odysseus as he wandered through his house."
So spoke the cowherd of the sleek cattle; and Odysseus
stabbed the son of Damastor at close range with his long spear.
And Telemachus struck Leocritus, son of Evenor,
with his spear in the middle of the flank, and drove the bronze right through;
and he fell face down, and beat the earth with all his forehead.
Then Athena held up the man-destroying aegis
from above, out of the roof; and their minds were panicked.
And they fled through the hall like herds of cattle,
which the darting gadfly, rushing on them, drives mad
in the spring season, when the days grow long.
And as hook-clawed vultures with curved talons,
coming from the mountains, rush at birds,
and the birds over the plain, cowering from the clouds, fly low,
and the vultures leap on them and destroy them, and there is no defence
nor escape; and men enjoy the hunt;
so then those men rushed at the suitors through the house
and struck them, turning this way and that; and a shameful groan rose up
as their heads were struck, and the whole floor ran with blood.
And Leodes rushed at Odysseus and grabbed his knees,
and pleading he spoke winged words:
"I beg you, Odysseus; respect me and have pity on me;
for I say that I never said
or did anything reckless to any of the women in the halls; but I even
kept the other suitors back from it, whoever did such things.
But they did not obey me, to keep their hands off evil;
so because of their recklessness they came to a shameful death.
But I, a diviner among them, having done nothing,
will lie dead, since there is no thanks afterwards for good deeds."
Then with a scowl Odysseus of many plans spoke to him:
"If you really claim to be a diviner among them,
often, I suppose, you prayed in the halls
that the end of my sweet homecoming would be far off,
and that my dear wife would go with you, and that you would father children;
so you will not escape death that brings hard grief."
So saying, he picked up in his thick hand the sword
that lay there, which Agelaus had let fall to the ground
when he was killed; with it he struck him in the middle of the neck.
And while he was still speaking, his head was mixed with the dust.
And Terpiades the singer was still fleeing black doom,
Phemius, who used to sing among the suitors by compulsion.
He stood holding in his hands the clear-sounding lyre
close beside the side-door; and in his mind he weighed two choices,
whether he should slip out of the hall to the altar of great Zeus
of the courtyard, and sit there, where many times
Laertes and Odysseus had burned the thighs of oxen,
or whether he should rush and beg Odysseus by the knees.
And as he thought it over, this seemed to him the better choice,
to clasp the knees of Odysseus, son of Laertes.
So he set the hollow lyre on the ground
between the mixing-bowl and the silver-studded chair,
and he himself rushed and grabbed the knees of Odysseus,
and pleading he spoke winged words:
"I beg you, Odysseus; respect me and have pity on me;
for afterwards there will be grief for you yourself, if you kill
a singer, who sings for gods and men.
I am self-taught, and a god has planted in my mind
songs of every kind; and I seem to sing before you
as before a god; so do not long to cut my throat.
And Telemachus would say this too, your dear son,
that I never came to your house willingly or from want,
going among the suitors to sing at their feasts,
but far more numerous and stronger men brought me by compulsion."
So he spoke, and the sacred strength of Telemachus heard him,
and at once he spoke to his father, who was near:
"Hold back, and do not strike this innocent man with the bronze;
and let us save the herald Medon too, who always
cared for me in our house when I was a child,
unless Philoetius has killed him, or the swineherd,
or he ran into you as you raged through the house."
So he spoke, and Medon heard him, a man of good sense;
for he lay crouching under a chair, and around him
he had wrapped a freshly skinned ox-hide, fleeing black doom.
And at once he sprang up from the chair, and quickly stripped off the ox-hide,
and then he rushed and grabbed the knees of Telemachus,
and pleading he spoke winged words:
"Friend, I am here; hold back, and tell your father
not to hurt me in his overwhelming strength with the sharp bronze,
angry with the suitors, who were eating up
his property in the halls, and the fools paid you no respect at all."
And with a smile Odysseus of many plans spoke to him:
"Take heart, since this man has saved you and rescued you,
so that you may know in your heart — and tell it to someone else too —
that doing good is far better than doing evil.
But come out of the halls and sit outside the door,
away from the killing, in the courtyard, you and the famous singer,
while I do in the house whatever I must do."
So he spoke, and the two went out of the hall,
and they sat down beside the altar of great Zeus,
looking every way, always expecting killing.
And Odysseus looked through his house, in case any man
were still alive and hiding, fleeing black doom.
He saw them all, in blood and dust,
fallen, many of them, like fish, which fishermen
into the hollow shore, out beyond the grey sea,
have dragged with a many-meshed net; and they all,
longing for the waves of the sea, lie gasping on the sand;
and the shining Sun takes the life from them;
so then the suitors lay fallen on one another.
Then Odysseus of many plans spoke to Telemachus:
"Telemachus, come, call the nurse Eurycleia for me,
so that I can say a word that is in my heart."
So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father,
and after pushing the door he spoke to the nurse Eurycleia:
"Come here, get up, old woman, long since grown old, who among the women
are the one who watches the maidservants through our halls;
come, my father is calling you, to say something."
So he called, and her word was unwinged,
and she opened the doors of the well-built halls,
and went in; and Telemachus led the way in front of her.
She found Odysseus among the slain corpses,
covered with blood and gore like a lion
that has eaten its fill of a farmyard ox and comes away;
and all of his chest and both his cheeks
are bloody, and he is terrible to look at in the face;
so Odysseus was covered, his feet and his hands above.
And when she saw the corpses and the boundless blood,
she wanted to cry out in triumph, since she saw a great deed;
but Odysseus held her back and stopped her, eager as she was,
and speaking he addressed her with winged words:
"In your heart, old woman, rejoice, and hold back, and do not cry out;
it is not holy to boast over slain men.
But these the fate of the gods subdued, and their cruel deeds;
for they honoured no one of the men on earth,
neither bad nor good, whoever came to them;
so because of their recklessness they came to a shameful death.
But come, list for me the women in the halls,
those who dishonour me, and those who are innocent."
And her dear nurse Eurycleia answered him:
"Then I will tell you the truth, my child.
There are fifty women in the halls,
maidservants, whom we taught to do their work,
both to card the wool and to put up with slavery;
of these twelve in all have taken the path of shamelessness,
honouring neither me nor Penelope herself.
And Telemachus was lately growing up, and his mother
did not let him give orders to the maidservants.
But come, let me go up to the shining upper rooms
and tell your wife, on whom some god has poured sleep."
And answering her Odysseus of many plans said:
"Do not wake her yet; but tell the women here
to come, those who before were plotting shameful things."
So he spoke, and the old woman went through the hall
to tell the women and to urge them to come.
And he, calling Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd
to himself, spoke winged words:
"Begin now to carry out the dead, and give the women their orders;
and then the very beautiful chairs and the tables
wash with water and with porous sponges.
And when you have put the whole house in order,
lead the maidservants out of the well-built hall,
between the round building and the good wall of the courtyard,
and strike them with long-edged swords, until you have taken
the lives from them all, and they forget Aphrodite,
whom they had under the suitors and mingled with in secret."
So he spoke, and the women came all together,
wailing terribly, pouring down a big tear.
First they carried out the corpses of the dead,
and laid them under the portico of the well-fenced courtyard,
propping them against one another; and Odysseus gave the orders,
himself urging them on; and they carried them out by compulsion.
And then the very beautiful chairs and the tables
they washed with water and with porous sponges.
And Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd
with scrapers scoured the floor of the well-made house;
and the maidservants carried it out and put it outside.
But when they had put the whole hall in order,
and led the maidservants out of the well-built hall,
between the round building and the good wall of the courtyard,
they penned them in a narrow place, from which there was no escape.
And Telemachus, sensible, began to speak to them:
"I would not take the lives of these with a clean death,
these who poured insults on my head
and on my mother, and lay beside the suitors."
So he spoke, and tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship
to a great pillar, and flung it round the round building,
stretching it up high, so that no one's feet could reach the floor.
And as when either long-winged thrushes or doves
are caught in a snare, which is set in a thicket,
as they come in to roost, and a hateful bed receives them;
so their heads were in a row, and around all of them
were nooses on their necks, so that they might die most piteously.
And they twitched with their feet for a little while, but not very long.
And they brought Melanthius out through the porch and the courtyard;
and they cut off his nose and his ears with the pitiless bronze,
and tore out his privy parts, to give them raw to the dogs,
and cut off his hands and his feet in their angry hearts.
Then they washed their hands and their feet
and went into the house of Odysseus, and the work was done;
and he spoke to his dear nurse Eurycleia:
"Bring sulphur, old woman, the cure of evils, and bring me fire,
so that I may fumigate the hall; and tell Penelope
to come here with her attendant women;
and urge all the maidservants to come through the house."
And her dear nurse Eurycleia answered him:
"Yes indeed, my child, you have spoken as is right.
But come, let me bring you a cloak and a tunic and clothing,
and do not stand like this in the halls, covered with rags
over your broad shoulders; that would be a thing to blame."
And answering her Odysseus of many plans said:
"First of all, let there be a fire for me in the halls."
So he spoke, and his dear nurse Eurycleia did not disobey,
and she brought fire and sulphur; and Odysseus
fumigated the hall well, and the house and the courtyard.
And the old woman went back through the fine halls of Odysseus
to tell the women and to urge them to come;
and they came out of the hall, holding torches in their hands.
And they crowded around him and greeted Odysseus,
and kissed his head and shoulders, clasping him in welcome,
and took his hands; and a sweet longing seized him
for weeping and groaning, and in his heart he knew them all.

### Book 23

The old woman went up to the upper room, laughing for joy,
to tell her mistress that her dear husband was inside the house;
her knees were strengthened and her feet hurried her along.
She stood over her head and spoke to her:
Wake up, Penelope, dear child, so that you can see
with your own eyes what you have wanted all your days.
Odysseus has come, he is here at the house, late though he came.
And he has killed the proud suitors, who were destroying his house
and eating his property and bullying his son.
Then wise Penelope answered her:
Dear nurse, the gods have driven you mad, the gods who can
make a fool of even a very sensible person,
and can set a thoughtless person on the path of good sense;
they have hurt you; before this you were in your right mind.
Why do you mock me, when I have a heart full of grief,
telling me this false tale and waking me from sleep,
sweet sleep, which closed my dear eyelids over my eyes?
I have not slept like this since the day Odysseus
went off to look at evil Troy, which should not be named.
But come now, go down and go back to the hall.
If any other woman among those I have
had come and told me this and woken me from sleep,
I would have sent her off quickly to go back with abuse
into the hall again; but your old age will save you here.
Then her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:
I am not mocking you, dear child, but truly
Odysseus has come, he is here at the house, just as I say,
the stranger, whom everyone in the halls treated with contempt.
Telemachus knew long ago that he was inside,
but in his good sense he kept his father's plans hidden,
until he could take revenge on the violence of the arrogant men.
So she spoke, and Penelope was glad, and jumping from the bed
she threw her arms around the old woman, and a tear fell from her eyes;
and she spoke to her and said these winged words:
Come now, dear nurse, tell me the truth,
whether he has really come home, as you say,
and how he laid hands on the shameless suitors
when he was alone, while they were always inside together.
Then her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:
I did not see it, I did not hear it, but I only heard the groaning
of men being killed; we sat in the back of the well-built rooms
terrified, and the well-fitted doors kept us in,
until your son Telemachus called me from the hall;
his father had sent him to call me.
Then I found Odysseus standing among the dead bodies;
they lay around him on the hard floor,
one on top of another; you would have warmed your heart to see it.
But now they are all at the courtyard doors,
all together, and he is purifying the beautiful house,
having lit a great fire; and he sent me to call you.
So come with me, so that the two of you can enter into joy,
both of your dear hearts, since you have suffered so much evil.
And now this long desire has been fulfilled:
he has come home alive himself, and he has found you
and your son in the halls; and the evil they did to him,
the suitors, he has made them all pay in his own house.
Then wise Penelope answered her:
Dear nurse, do not boast so much in your joy.
You know how welcome he would appear in the halls
to everyone, and most of all to me and to the son we bore;
but this story of yours is not true, as you tell it,
but one of the immortals killed the noble suitors,
angry at their painful arrogance and their evil deeds.
They honored no man on earth,
neither bad nor good, whoever came to them;
so through their own recklessness they suffered harm; but Odysseus
lost his homecoming far from Achaea, and he himself is dead.
Then her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:
My child, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth,
when you say that your husband, who is right here by the hearth,
will never come home; your heart is always distrustful.
But come, I will tell you another very clear sign,
the scar, which a boar once struck on him with its white tusk.
I noticed it while washing him, and I wanted to tell you yourself,
but he grabbed my mouth with his hands
and would not let me speak, in the cleverness of his mind.
But come; and I will stake my own life on it,
if I deceive you, then kill me with the most pitiful death.
Then wise Penelope answered her:
Dear nurse, it is hard to search out the plans of the gods
who live forever, even for someone very clever.
But all the same, let us go to my son, so that I can see
the suitors dead, and the man who killed them.
So she spoke, and came down from the upper room; and her heart
was much stirred, whether she should question her dear husband from a distance,
or stand beside him and kiss his head and take his hands.
When she came in and crossed the stone threshold,
she sat down opposite Odysseus, in the light of the fire,
against the other wall; and he sat looking down
toward the tall pillar, waiting to see whether his noble wife
would say anything to him, now that he had seen her with his eyes.
She sat a long time without a word, and amazement came over her heart;
now she would look at him straight in the face,
now she would not recognize him, because of the ugly clothes on his body.
Then Telemachus scolded her and spoke and called her by name:
Mother, my mother, hard-hearted mother,
why do you hold yourself away from my father like this, and not
sit beside him and ask him questions with words?
No other woman with such a patient heart
would keep away from her husband, who after suffering so much
had come back to his homeland in the twentieth year;
your heart is always harder than stone.
Then wise Penelope answered him:
My child, my heart in my breast is stunned,
and I cannot speak a word or ask a question
or look him in the face. But if it is really true
that Odysseus is here and has come home, then the two of us
will know each other better; for we have
signs that we two know, hidden from everyone else.
So she spoke, and much-enduring noble Odysseus smiled,
and at once he spoke winged words to Telemachus:
Telemachus, let your mother test me in the halls;
soon she will know me better.
As it is, because I am dirty and wear ugly clothes on my body,
she treats me with contempt and says I am not that man.
Let us think about how things can turn out best.
Even a man who has killed just one man in his country,
when there are not many people to avenge him later,
runs away, leaving his relatives and his homeland;
but we have killed the mainstay of the city, the very best
of the young men in Ithaca; I tell you to think about this.
Then sensible Telemachus answered him:
You look to these things yourself, dear father; for men say
your advice is the best in the world, and no other man
among mortals could compete with you.
We will follow you eagerly, and I say
I will not lack courage, as far as my strength goes.
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
Then I will say what seems best to me.
First wash yourselves and put on tunics,
and tell the women in the halls to pick out clothes;
let the divine singer, holding his clear-toned lyre,
lead us in a dance that loves play,
so that anyone hearing it outside might say there is a wedding,
either someone walking on the road or the neighbors;
so that the wide rumor of the killing does not spread through the city,
the rumor about the suitors, before we get out
to our field with its many trees; and there
we will plan whatever gain Olympian Zeus puts in our hands.
So he spoke, and they listened to him and obeyed.
First they washed and put on tunics,
and the women dressed themselves; the divine singer took
the hollow lyre and stirred in them desire
for sweet song and faultless dancing.
The great house echoed with the feet
of men playing and of women with fine belts.
And someone outside the house would say, hearing it:
Truly, someone has married the much-courted queen;
cruel woman, she did not have the heart to keep her lawful husband's
great house to the end, until he came home.
So someone would say, but they did not know how things really were.
But great-hearted Odysseus in his own house
was bathed by the housekeeper Eurynome and anointed with oil,
and she threw a fine cloak and tunic around him;
and on his head Athena poured great beauty,
making him taller to look at and more solid; and from his head
she sent down curly hair, like the hyacinth flower.
Just as when a man pours gold over silver,
a skilled craftsman, whom Hephaestus taught and Pallas Athena
in every craft, and he turns out lovely work;
so she poured grace over his head and shoulders.
He came out of the bath looking like the immortals in body;
and he sat down again on the throne he had risen from,
opposite his wife, and spoke to her:
Strange woman, the gods who hold Olympus have made
your heart harder than any other woman's;
no other woman with such a patient heart
would keep away from her husband, who after suffering so much
had come back to his homeland in the twentieth year.
But come, nurse, make up a bed for me, so that I myself
can lie down; for this woman has an iron heart in her breast.
Then wise Penelope answered him:
Strange man, I am not putting on airs or making light of you,
nor am I too amazed; but I know very well what you were like
when you sailed from Ithaca in a long-oared ship.
But come, Eurycleia, make him up a firm bed
outside the well-built bedroom, the one he built himself;
and there put the firm bedding on it,
hides and blankets and shining covers.
So she spoke, testing her husband; but Odysseus
was angry and spoke to his faithful wife:
Woman, truly this was a painful thing you said.
Who has put my bed somewhere else? That would be hard
even for a very skilled man, unless a god came himself
and easily, if he wanted, set it in another place.
But no living mortal man, not even a strong young one,
could easily move it, since a great sign was made
into that crafted bed; and I made it, and no one else.
There grew a long-leaved olive tree inside the walled yard,
in full bloom; it was as thick as a pillar.
I built a bedroom around it, until I finished it,
with closely set stones, and I roofed it well on top,
and I put in fitted doors, closely joined.
And then I cut off the foliage of the long-leaved olive,
and I cut the trunk off at the root and trimmed it with bronze,
well and skillfully, and I made it straight by the line,
working it into a bedpost, and I bored all the holes with a drill.
From that I began and made the bed, until I finished it,
decorating it with gold and silver and ivory;
and I stretched an oxhide thong through it, shining with purple.
That is the sign I am showing you; and I do not know
whether my bed is still firm in place, woman, or whether some man
has put it somewhere else, cutting away the base of the olive.
So he spoke, and her knees and her dear heart gave way,
as she recognized the signs that Odysseus had told her clearly.
Then she burst into tears and ran straight to him, and around his neck
she threw her arms around Odysseus, and kissed his head and said:
Do not be angry with me, Odysseus, since in everything else
you were the most sensible of men; the gods gave us sorrow,
they begrudged us that we two, staying beside each other,
should enjoy our youth and reach the threshold of old age.
But do not be angry with me now for this and do not hold it against me,
because I did not welcome you like this the first time I saw you.
For always my heart in my dear breast
shuddered in fear that some mortal would come and deceive me with words;
for many people plan evil tricks.
Not even Argive Helen, born of Zeus,
would have slept with a foreign man in love and bed,
if she had known that the warlike sons of the Achaeans
were going to bring her back home to her dear homeland.
But a god stirred her to do that shameful deed;
she did not first store that ruin in her own heart,
the miserable ruin from which grief first came to us too.
But now, since you have told me the very clear signs
of our bed, which no other mortal has seen,
but only you and I and one single servant girl,
Actor's daughter, whom my father gave me when I came here,
who guarded the doors of our solid bedroom for us,
you have persuaded my heart, hard as it is.
So she spoke, and stirred in him still more longing for weeping;
and he wept, holding his dear wife, the faithful woman.
As when land appears welcome to men swimming,
whose well-built ship Poseidon has wrecked on the sea,
driven on by the wind and a solid wave;
and few escaped the gray sea to the mainland
by swimming, and a lot of brine has crusted on their skin,
and gladly they set foot on land, escaping their trouble;
so welcome to her was her husband as she looked at him,
and she did not yet let her white arms go from his neck.
And rosy-fingered Dawn would have appeared to them as they wept,
if the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, had not thought of something else.
She held back the long night at its limit, and kept
golden-throned Dawn away at Ocean, and did not let
the swift-footed horses be yoked, that bring light to men,
Lampus and Phaethon, the colts that draw Dawn.
And then resourceful Odysseus spoke to his wife:
Woman, we have not yet reached the end of all our trials,
but there will still be immeasurable toil ahead,
much and hard, which I must complete entirely.
For so the spirit of Teiresias foretold to me
on the day when I went down into the house of Hades,
looking for a way home for my companions and for myself.
But come, let us go to bed, woman, so that now at last
we may enjoy sweet sleep, lying down.
Then wise Penelope answered him:
The bed will be yours whenever you want it
in your heart, since the gods have made you come
to your well-built home and your homeland;
but since you thought of it and a god put it in your mind,
come, tell me the trial, since I think I will learn of it
later too, and knowing it right away is no worse.
Then resourceful Odysseus answered her and said:
Strange woman, why do you urge me so hard and tell me
to say it? But I will tell you, and I will not hide anything.
Your heart will not be glad; for I myself
am not glad either, since he told me to go to many cities of men,
holding in my hands a well-made oar,
until I reach men who do not know the sea,
men who do not eat food mixed with salt;
who do not know ships with red-painted cheeks,
nor well-made oars, which are wings for ships.
He told me this clear sign, and I will not hide it from you:
when another traveler, meeting me,
says that I have a winnowing fan on my bright shoulder,
then he told me to fix the oar in the ground,
and after making fine holy rites to lord Poseidon,
a ram and a bull and a boar that mounts sows,
to go back home and make holy hecatombs
to the immortal gods who hold the wide heaven,
all of them in order; and death will come to me from the sea,
a very gentle one, such as will kill me
worn out by sleek old age; and the people around me
will be prosperous; he said all this would come true.
Then wise Penelope answered him:
If the gods are going to bring about a better old age,
then there is hope that you will escape troubles.
So they talked about such things with each other;
and meanwhile Eurynome and the nurse made up the bed
with soft bedding, under the light of torches.
When they had spread the firm bed in their hurry,
the old woman went back to lie down in her own room,
and the chambermaid Eurynome led them
to the bed, holding a torch in her hands;
and she brought them to the bedroom and then went away. And then the two
gladly came to the custom of their old bed;
but Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd
stopped their feet from dancing, and stopped the women,
and they went to bed themselves through the shadowy halls.
When the two had enjoyed their lovely love,
they took pleasure in stories, talking to each other:
she told everything she had endured in the halls, she the shining one among women,
watching the crowd of suitors, those destroyers,
who for her sake slaughtered many cattle and fat sheep,
and lots of wine was drawn from the jars;
and Zeus-born Odysseus told all the troubles he had brought
on men, and all that he himself had suffered in his toil;
he told everything, and she took pleasure in hearing it, and sleep
did not fall on her eyelids before he had told it all.
He began with how he first subdued the Cicones, and then
came to the rich farmland of the Lotus-eaters;
and all that the Cyclops did, and how he punished him
for his stout companions, whom he ate and did not pity;
and how he came to Aeolus, who welcomed him kindly
and sent him on, but it was not yet his fate to reach his dear homeland,
but again a storm snatched him up and carried him
over the fish-filled sea, and he groaned heavily;
and how he came to Telepylus of the Laestrygonians,
who destroyed his ships and his well-greaved companions,
all of them; and Odysseus alone escaped with his black ship;
and he told of Circe's trickery and her many schemes,
and how he came to the dank house of Hades,
to consult the spirit of Theban Teiresias,
in his many-benched ship, and he saw all his companions
and his mother, who bore him and raised him when he was small;
and how he heard the voice of the clear-sounding Sirens,
and how he came to the Wandering Rocks and terrible Charybdis
and Scylla, whom no men ever escaped unharmed;
and how his companions killed the cattle of the Sun;
and how Zeus who thunders on high struck his swift ship with a smoking bolt,
and his good companions perished
all together, and he alone escaped the evil fates;
and how he came to Ogygia, the island, and the nymph Calypso,
who kept him there, wanting him to be her husband,
in her hollow caves, and fed him and said
she would make him immortal and ageless forever;
but she never persuaded the heart in his breast;
and how he came to the Phaeacians after much suffering,
who honored him in their hearts like a god
and sent him with a ship to his dear homeland,
giving him bronze and gold in abundance and clothing.
This was the last thing he said, when sweet sleep
came over him, loosening his limbs, releasing the cares of his heart.
Then again the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, thought of something else:
as soon as she thought that Odysseus in his heart
had had his joy of his wife's bed and of sleep,
she at once roused golden-throned early-born Dawn from Ocean,
to bring light to men; and Odysseus rose
from the soft bed and gave his wife a command:
Woman, we have both had our fill of many trials,
you here, weeping for my homecoming
with all its troubles; and Zeus and the other gods
kept pressing me with sorrows, as I longed to get back to my homeland;
but now, since we have both come to our much-desired bed,
you must take care of the property I have in the halls,
and the flocks that the arrogant suitors have butchered;
I myself will seize much of it, and the Achaeans
will give more, until they fill all my farmsteads.
But I will go to the field with its many trees
to see my noble father, who grieves deeply for me;
and to you, woman, I give this command, wise as you are:
for at once the news will spread with the rising sun
about the suitors, whom I killed in the halls;
go up to the upper room with your women servants
and sit there, and do not look out or ask anyone anything.
He spoke, and put his fine armor around his shoulders,
and roused Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd,
and ordered them all to take up the weapons of war in their hands.
They did not disobey him, but armed themselves in bronze,
and opened the doors and went out; Odysseus led the way.
Already the light was on the earth, and Athena
hid them in night and quickly led them out of the city.

### Book 24

Hermes of Cyllene was calling out the souls
of the suitors; he held in his hands a rod
beautiful and golden, with which he charms the eyes of men
whom he wishes, and wakes others again even while they sleep;
with it he stirred them and led them, and they followed, squeaking.
As when bats in the depth of a wondrous cave
fly squeaking, when one has fallen
from the cluster on the rock, and they cling to one another,
so they went along squeaking; and Hermes led them
along the dank paths.
They went past the streams of Ocean and the White Rock,
and past the gates of the Sun and the land of dreams
they went; and quickly they came to the meadow of asphodel,
where the souls dwell, the ghosts of the worn-out dead.
They found the soul of Achilles, son of Peleus,
and of Patroclus and of blameless Antilochus,
and of Ajax, who was the best in form and build
of the other Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus.
So they were gathered around him; and close at hand
came the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus,
grieving; and around him all the others were gathered, as many as had died
with him in the house of Aegisthus and met their fate.
The soul of the son of Peleus spoke to him first:
Son of Atreus, we said that you were dear to Zeus who delights in thunder
among heroic men for all your days,
because you ruled over many and strong men
in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered pains.
And so an early doom was destined to come upon you too,
that doom which no one escapes who is born.
How I wish that you had enjoyed the honor you held as king
in the land of the Trojans, and met death and fate there;
then all the Achaeans would have made you a tomb,
and would have won great glory for your son afterwards;
but now it was fated that you be taken by the most pitiable death.
Then the soul of the son of Atreus answered him:
Blessed son of Peleus, godlike Achilles,
who died in Troy far from Argos; and around you others
were killed, the sons of the Trojans and the best of the Achaeans,
fighting over you; but you in the whirlwind of dust
lay, great in your greatness, forgetful of your horsemanship.
We fought the whole day long; nor would we ever
have stopped from war, if Zeus had not stopped it with a storm.
But when we had carried you from the battle to the ships,
we laid you on a bier, after cleansing your fair body
with warm water and oil; and around you many
warm tears the Danaans shed and they cut their hair.
Your mother came from the sea with the immortal sea nymphs,
when she heard the news; and a cry rose over the sea,
a wondrous one, and trembling seized all the Achaeans.
And now they would have jumped up and gone to the hollow ships,
if a man had not held them back, one old and knowing many things,
Nestor, whose advice had shown itself the best before too.
He, thinking kindly, spoke to them and said:
Hold back, Argives, do not flee, sons of the Achaeans;
this is his mother from the sea, with the immortal sea nymphs,
coming to meet her dead son.
So he spoke, and they held back, the great-hearted Achaeans;
and around you stood the daughters of the old man of the sea,
lamenting piteously, and they dressed you in immortal clothing.
And all nine Muses, answering one another with beautiful voice,
sang the dirge; and there you would have seen no one
of the Argives without tears; so much did the clear-voiced Muse stir them.
For seventeen days alike, nights and days,
we wept, both the immortal gods and mortal men;
and on the eighteenth we gave you to the fire, and around you
we killed many sheep, very fat, and horned cattle.
You burned in the clothing of the gods and in much oil
and sweet honey; and many Achaean heroes
armed themselves with their gear around the burning pyre,
both footmen and horsemen; and a great din rose.
But when the flame of Hephaestus had finished you,
at dawn we gathered your white bones, Achilles,
in unmixed wine and oil; and your mother gave
a golden two-handled urn; and she said it was
a gift of Dionysus, and the work of famous Hephaestus.
In it your white bones lie, shining Achilles,
mixed with those of Patroclus, son of Menoetius, who had died,
and apart those of Antilochus, whom you honored above all
your other companions, after Patroclus at least had died.
And over them then a great and blameless tomb
we heaped up, the sacred army of Argive spearmen,
on a jutting headland by the wide Hellespont,
so that it might be seen from far out at sea by men
who now are born and who will be afterwards.
And your mother, having asked the gods for very beautiful prizes,
set them in the middle of the contest for the best of the Achaeans.
Already at the burial of many men
of heroes you have been present, when a king has died
and young men gird themselves and prepare contests;
but you would have marveled above all in your heart at those
which the goddess set before you, the very beautiful prizes,
silver-footed Thetis; for you were very dear to the gods.
So you did not lose your name even in death, but forever
among all men your good fame will be, Achilles;
but what pleasure was that to me, since I had wound up the war?
For on my return Zeus planned for me a wretched destruction
by the hands of Aegisthus and my accursed wife.
So these two spoke such things to one another,
and close to them came the guide, the slayer of Argus,
bringing down the souls of the suitors subdued by Odysseus;
and the two, amazed, went straight toward them, when they saw them.
And the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, recognized
the dear son of Melaneus, the famous Amphimedon;
for he had been his host, living in a house in Ithaca.
The soul of the son of Atreus spoke to him first:
Amphimedon, what happened to you that you went down into the dark earth,
all of you chosen men and of the same age? Not otherwise
would one, choosing, pick out the best men in a city.
Was it Poseidon who subdued you in your ships,
raising painful winds and long waves?
Or did hostile men harm you on land,
while you were cutting off cattle or fine flocks of sheep,
or fighting for a city and for women?
Tell me, who ask; for I claim to be your host.
Do you not remember when I came there to your house,
urging Odysseus, with godlike Menelaus,
to follow with me to Ilion in the well-benched ships?
And in a whole month we crossed the whole wide sea,
with difficulty persuading Odysseus, the sacker of cities.
Then the soul of Amphimedon answered him:
Most glorious son of Atreus, lord of men Agamemnon,
I remember all this, god-nurtured one, as you say;
and I will tell you everything very well and accurately,
the evil end of our death, how it happened.
We wooed the wife of Odysseus, who was long gone;
and she neither refused the hateful marriage nor completed it,
plotting death and black doom for us,
but she thought of this other trick in her mind:
she set up a great loom in the hall and wove,
fine and large; and at once she said to us:
My young suitors, since noble Odysseus is dead,
wait, eager as you are for my marriage, until I finish
this robe, so that the thread I have spun is not wasted,
a burial garment for the hero Laertes, against the time when
the ruinous doom of death that brings long grief lays him low,
lest one of the Achaean women in the land blame me,
if he lies without a shroud, though he has won much wealth.
So she spoke, and our proud hearts were persuaded.
Then by day she wove the great loom,
and at night she undid it, after setting the torches beside her.
So for three years she hid it by trickery and persuaded the Achaeans;
but when the fourth year came and the seasons arrived,
as the months waned and many days were completed,
then at last one of the women told, who knew it clearly,
and we found her undoing the splendid web.
So she finished it, though unwilling, under compulsion.
When she showed the robe, having woven the great web,
after washing it, like the sun or the moon,
then at last some evil spirit brought Odysseus
to the edge of the field, where the swineherd had his home.
There came the dear son of godlike Odysseus,
coming from sandy Pylos in a black ship;
and the two, having prepared evil death for the suitors,
came to the famous city, and Odysseus indeed
came later, but Telemachus led the way in front.
And the swineherd led him, wearing evil clothes on his body,
like a wretched beggar and an old man,
leaning on a staff; and he wore wretched clothes on his body;
nor could any of us recognize who he was,
appearing suddenly, not even those who were older,
but we reviled him with evil words and with throws.
But he for a while endured in his own hall
being struck and reviled with an enduring heart;
but when the mind of aegis-bearing Zeus roused him,
with Telemachus he lifted the very beautiful armor
and put it in the storeroom and locked the doors,
but he urged his wife, with her many wiles,
to set the bow and the gray iron before the suitors,
for us ill-fated ones, a contest and the beginning of slaughter.
Nor could any of us string the string of the mighty bow,
for we were far too weak.
But when the great bow came into Odysseus's hands,
then we all called out with words
that the bow should not be given, however much he might say;
but Telemachus alone urged him and commanded it.
And the much-enduring, noble Odysseus took it in his hand,
and easily strung the bow, and shot through the iron,
and he stood, going to the threshold, and poured out swift arrows,
looking terribly around, and he struck Antinous the king.
And after that he kept shooting painful arrows at the others,
aiming straight at them; and they fell in heaps.
And it was clear that some god was their helper;
for at once, following through the house with their own fury,
they kept killing, striking on every side, and a shameful groaning rose from them
as their heads were struck, and the whole floor flowed with blood.
So we perished, Agamemnon, and even now
our bodies lie uncared for in the halls of Odysseus;
for our friends in each man's house do not yet know,
who might wash the black gore from the wounds
and lay us out and mourn; for that is the honor of the dead.
Then the soul of the son of Atreus answered him:
Blessed son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus,
surely with great virtue you won your wife.
How good was the mind of blameless Penelope,
the daughter of Icarius; how well she remembered Odysseus,
her wedded husband; so her fame will never perish
for her virtue, and the immortals will make a song
for men on earth, a pleasing one, for wise Penelope,
not like the daughter of Tyndareus, who planned evil deeds,
who killed her wedded husband, and a hateful song
will be among men, and she gives a harsh reputation
to women, even to one who is virtuous.
So these two spoke such things to one another,
standing in the house of Hades, beneath the hiding places of the earth;
but the others, when they had gone down from the city, quickly came to the field,
the fair farm of Laertes, built by him, which once
Laertes himself had acquired, when he had toiled very much.
There was his house, and a hut ran around it on every side,
in which the necessary slaves ate and sat and slept,
who worked for him with affection.
And in it was a Sicilian old woman, who cared for the old man
carefully in the field, away from the city.
There Odysseus spoke a word to his slaves and his son:
You now go inside the well-built house,
and sacrifice at once the best of the pigs for the meal;
but I will test my father,
whether he will recognize me and notice me with his eyes,
or will not know me, since I have been away a long time.
So saying, he gave battle gear to the slaves.
They then went quickly to the house, but Odysseus
went near the fruitful orchard, testing him.
He did not find Dolius, going down into the great garden,
nor any of the slaves nor of the sons; but they
had gone to gather stones for the orchard wall,
and the old man was leading the way for them.
But he found his father alone in the well-built orchard,
digging around a plant; and he wore a filthy tunic,
patched and shameful, and around his shins
he had bound stitched oxhide greaves, guarding against scratches,
and gloves on his hands because of the briars; and above
he had a goatskin cap on his head, adding to his grief.
And when the much-enduring, noble Odysseus saw him
worn by old age, and having great grief in his heart,
he stood beneath a tall pear tree and shed a tear.
And he pondered then in his mind and heart
whether to kiss and embrace his father, and tell him
everything, how he had come and reached his native land,
or first to question him and test him in everything.
And as he thought, this seemed to him the better way,
first to test him with mocking words.
Thinking this, the noble Odysseus went straight to him.
Indeed the old man was bending his head, digging around a plant;
and standing beside him, his splendid son spoke to him:
Old man, it is not lack of skill that keeps you from tending
the orchard, but your care is good, and in no way is
any plant, or fig tree, or vine, or olive,
or pear, or garden bed, without care in the garden.
But I will tell you another thing, and do not put anger in your heart:
your own care is not good, but at the same time
you have wretched old age, and you are squalid and shamefully dressed.
It is not because of idleness that your master does not care for you,
nor does it suit you at all to be seen
as a slave in form and size; for you look like a kingly man.
You look like such a one, when he has bathed and eaten,
to sleep softly; for that is the custom for old men.
But come, tell me this and tell it accurately,
whose slave are you among men? Whose orchard do you tend?
And tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well,
whether we have truly come to this Ithaca, as a man told me,
this man whom I just met as I was coming here,
not very sound of mind, since he did not dare
to tell me everything or listen to my word, as I asked
about my guest, whether he still lives and is
or has already died and is in the house of Hades.
For I will tell you, and do you understand and listen to me:
I once entertained a man in my dear native land
when he came to my house, and never yet had any other mortal
of far-off guest-friends come to my house as a friend;
and he claimed to be of the race of Ithaca, and he said
that Laertes, son of Arceisius, was his father.
I led him to my house and entertained him well,
kindly, since there were many things in the house,
and I gave him guest gifts, as was fitting.
Of well-made gold I gave him seven talents,
and I gave him a mixing bowl all of silver, flowered,
and twelve single cloaks, and as many rugs,
and as many fine sheets, and as many tunics besides,
and besides that, women, knowing blameless work,
four, beautiful, whom he himself wished to choose.
Then his father answered him, shedding a tear:
Stranger, you have indeed come to the land you ask about,
but insolent and reckless men hold it;
and these gifts you gave for nothing, giving countless things;
for if you had found him alive in the land of Ithaca,
he would have sent you away, having repaid you well with gifts
and good hospitality; for that is the right thing, for whoever gives first.
But come, tell me this and tell it accurately,
how many years is it since you entertained that man,
that unfortunate guest of yours, my son, if ever he was,
ill-fated? Whom somewhere far from friends and native land
either fish in the sea have eaten, or on the land
he became prey for beasts and birds; nor did his mother
mourn him and lay him out, nor his father, we who bore him;
nor did his richly dowered wife, wise Penelope,
wail over her husband on the bed, as was fitting,
closing his eyes; for that is the honor of the dead.
And tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well:
who are you among men, and where from? Where is your city and your parents?
Where does your swift ship stand, which brought you here,
and your godlike comrades? Or have you come as a trader
on another's ship, and they disembarked and went away?
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
Then I will tell you everything very accurately.
I am from Alybas, where I live in famous halls,
the son of Apheidas, son of lord Polypemon;
and my name is Eperitus; but a god
drove me astray from Sicania to come here unwilling;
and this ship of mine stands at the field away from the city.
And for Odysseus this is now the fifth year,
since he went away from there and left my country,
ill-fated; and surely his birds were good as he went,
on the right, and rejoicing in them I sent him away,
and he rejoiced as he went; and our hearts still hoped
to meet in hospitality and give glorious gifts.
So he spoke, and a black cloud of grief covered him;
and with both hands he took up the dark dust
and poured it over his gray head, groaning thickly.
And his spirit was stirred, and up through his nostrils
the sharp fury rushed, as he looked at his dear father.
And he kissed him and clung to him, springing upon him, and said:
That man is here, I myself, father, whom you seek;
I have come in the twentieth year to my native land.
But stop weeping and lamenting and tearful groaning.
For I will tell you; and it is very necessary to hurry anyway:
I have killed the suitors in our halls,
avenging their painful outrage and their evil deeds.
Then Laertes answered him and said:
If indeed you have come here as Odysseus, my son,
tell me now some manifest sign, so that I may believe it.
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
First, this scar, look at it with your eyes,
which the boar struck me with its white tusk in Parnassus
when I went there; but you and my lady mother sent me
to my father Autolycus, my mother's dear father, so that I might receive
the gifts which he promised and pledged to me when he came here.
But come, I will tell you also about the trees in the well-built orchard,
which you once gave me, and I asked you for each one,
when I was a child, following you in the garden; and through them
we walked, and you named and told me each one.
You gave me thirteen pear trees and ten apple trees,
and forty fig trees; and you named the rows
you would give, fifty of them, and each one was
of varied grapes; and there are grapes of all kinds on them —
when the seasons of Zeus come on heavily from above.
So he spoke, and his knees and dear heart were loosed,
as he recognized the signs which Odysseus told him securely.
And he threw his arms around his dear son; and to himself
much-enduring, noble Odysseus caught him as he fainted.
But when he revived and his spirit was gathered into his breast,
again he answered him with words and said:
Father Zeus, surely the gods are still on high Olympus,
if truly the suitors have paid for their reckless outrage.
But now I greatly fear in my heart that soon all the Ithacans
will come here, and the news
they send everywhere to the cities of the Cephallenians.
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
Take heart, do not let these things weigh on your heart.
But let us go to the house, which lies near the orchard;
and there I sent Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd
ahead, so that they might prepare dinner as quickly as possible.
So speaking, the two went to the fair house.
And when they came to the well-built house,
they found Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd
carving much meat and mixing the flaming wine.
Meanwhile, for great-hearted Laertes in his own house
the Sicilian handmaid bathed him and anointed him with oil,
and threw a fair cloak around him; and Athena
standing near made the shepherd of the people grow in limb,
and made him greater and stouter to look at than before.
He came out of the bath; and his dear son marveled at him,
when he saw him looking like the immortal gods;
and he spoke to him and addressed him with winged words:
Father, surely one of the ever-living gods
has made you better in form and stature to look at.
Then wise Laertes answered him and said:
If only, father Zeus and Athena and Apollo,
as when I took Nericus, the well-built citadel,
the headland of the mainland, ruling over the Cephallenians,
such as I was then, I were in our house yesterday,
with weapons on my shoulders, to stand by and defend
against the suitors; then I would have loosed their knees
for many in the halls, and you would have rejoiced in your heart within.
So these two spoke such things to one another.
But when they had stopped working and prepared the feast,
they sat down in order on the benches and chairs;
then they set to the meal, and close at hand
came the old man Dolius, and with him the sons of the old man,
wearied from their work, since she had come forth and called them,
the Sicilian old woman, who nourished them and cared for
the old man carefully, when old age had seized him.
And when they saw Odysseus and recognized him in their hearts,
they stood in the halls amazed; and Odysseus
addressed them, speaking to them with gentle words:
Old man, sit down to the meal, and forget your amazement;
for we have long been waiting in the halls, eager
to set to the food, always waiting for you.
So he spoke, and Dolius went straight to him with both
hands outstretched, and Odysseus took his hand and kissed his wrist,
and spoke to him, addressing him with winged words:
Dear friend, since you have returned, when we longed for it greatly
and no longer expected it—and the gods themselves brought you up—
welcome, and rejoice greatly, and may the gods give you prosperity.
And tell me this truthfully, so that I may know well,
whether wise Penelope already knows clearly
that you have returned here, or should we send a messenger?
Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said:
Old man, she already knows; why must you trouble yourself with this?
So he spoke, and he sat down again on a well-polished chair.
And likewise the sons of Dolius around the famous Odysseus
did him honor with words and clung to his hands,
and in order they sat down beside Dolius, their father.
So these were busy about the meal in the halls;
and Rumor went quickly everywhere through the city as a messenger,
telling of the hateful death and doom of the suitors.
And they, hearing it, came together each from another place
with wailing and groaning before the house of Odysseus,
and they carried the dead out of the house, and each buried them,
and those from other cities they sent each to his own home,
putting them on swift ships for the fishermen to carry;
and they themselves went in a body to the assembly, grieved at heart.
But when they had gathered and come together,
Eupithes stood up among them and said:
for in his heart lay unforgettable grief for his son,
Antinous, whom noble Odysseus had killed first;
weeping for him he spoke to them and said:
Friends, surely this man has devised a great deed against the Achaeans;
those whom he led with his ships, many and brave,
he destroyed the hollow ships and destroyed the men;
and those who came he killed, the best of the Cephallenians.
But come, before this man quickly reaches Pylos
or divine Elis, where the Epeians rule,
let us go; or even afterwards we will always be downcast;
for this is a disgrace even for those to come to hear of,
if indeed we do not avenge the murderers of our sons and brothers.
To me at least it would not be pleasant in my heart
to live, but may I die as quickly as possible and be among the dead.
But let us go, lest those men cross over first.
So he spoke, weeping, and pity seized all the Achaeans.
And close to them came Medon and the divine bard
from the halls of Odysseus, when sleep had released them,
and they stood in the middle; and amazement seized each man.
And Medon, who knew wise things, spoke among them:
Hear me now, Ithacans; for Odysseus did not
contrive these deeds against the will of the immortal gods;
I myself saw an immortal god, who stood
near Odysseus and was like Mentor in everything.
And the immortal god at one moment appeared before
Odysseus, encouraging him, and at another roused the suitors
and rushed through the hall; and they fell in heaps.
So he spoke, and pale fear seized them all.
And the old hero Halitherses spoke among them,
son of Mastor; for he alone saw before and behind;
he, thinking kindly, spoke to them and said:
Hear me now, Ithacans, whatever I say:
through your own wickedness, friends, these deeds have come about;
for you did not obey me, nor Mentor, shepherd of the people,
to stop your sons from their folly,
who did a great deed in their evil recklessness,
wasting the possessions and dishonoring the wife
of a noble man; and they thought he would not return.
And now let it be so. Obey me as I speak:
let us not go, lest someone find added evil.
So he spoke, and they jumped up with a great cry,
more than half of them; but the others stayed together there;
for the word did not please them in their hearts, but they obeyed
Eupithes; and at once they rushed to their weapons.
But when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze,
they gathered together before the broad-wayed city.
And Eupithes led them in their folly;
and he said he would avenge the murder of his son, and he was not
to return back, but to meet his doom there.
But Athena spoke to Zeus, son of Cronus:
Our father, son of Cronus, highest of rulers,
tell me, who ask you, what does your mind hide within?
Will you further prepare evil war and dread battle,
or will you put friendship between the two sides?
Then cloud-gathering Zeus answered her and said:
My child, why do you ask and question me about this?
Did you not yourself plan this design,
that Odysseus would return and punish those men?
Do as you wish; and I will tell you what is fitting.
Since noble Odysseus has punished the suitors,
let them cut faithful oaths, and let him be king forever,
and we in turn for the murder of their sons and brothers
let us make a forgetting; and let them love one another
as before, and let there be wealth and peace in abundance.
So saying, he urged Athena, who was eager already,
and she darted down from the peaks of Olympus.
But when they had satisfied their desire for honey-sweet food,
much-enduring, noble Odysseus began the words among them:
Let someone go out and see that they are not near, coming on.
So he spoke; and the son of Dolius went out, as he commanded;
he stood, coming to the threshold, and saw them all near;
and at once he spoke winged words to Odysseus:
These are near; but let us arm ourselves more quickly.
So he spoke, and they sprang up and put on their armor,
four around Odysseus, and six the sons of Dolius;
and Laertes and Dolius also put on their armor,
gray though they were, but warriors by necessity.
But when they had clothed their bodies in gleaming bronze,
they opened the doors and went out, and Odysseus led.
And close to them came the daughter of Zeus, Athena,
like Mentor in form and in voice.
And much-enduring, noble Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her;
and at once he spoke to Telemachus, his dear son:
Telemachus, you will now know this yourself when you go into it,
where men fight and the best are distinguished,
not to shame the race of your fathers, who before now
have been distinguished in courage and manhood in all the world.
Then wise Telemachus answered him and said:
You will see, if you wish, dear father, that with this spirit
I will in no way shame your race, as you say.
So he spoke, and Laertes rejoiced and spoke a word:
What day is this for me, dear gods? Surely I rejoice greatly;
my son and my son's son have a contest over valor.
And standing beside him, bright-eyed Athena spoke:
Son of Arceisius, by far the dearest of all my comrades,
pray to the bright-eyed maiden and to father Zeus,
and at once, brandishing it, send forth the long-shadowing spear.
So she spoke, and Pallas Athena breathed great strength into him;
and when he had prayed to the daughter of great Zeus,
at once, brandishing it, he sent forth the long-shadowing spear,
and struck Eupithes through the bronze-cheeked helmet.
And it did not keep out the spear, but the bronze went right through,
and he fell with a thud, and his armor clattered upon him.
And Odysseus and his splendid son fell upon the front ranks,
and struck with swords and two-edged spears.
And now they would have destroyed them all and made them not to return,
had not Athena, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus,
cried out with her voice, and held back all the people.
Hold back from painful war, Ithacans,
so that you may be separated quickly without bloodshed.
So spoke Athena, and pale fear seized them;
and in their fear the weapons flew from their hands,
and all fell to the ground, at the voice of the goddess speaking;
and they turned toward the city, longing for life.
And much-enduring, noble Odysseus shouted terribly,
and gathered himself and swooped like an eagle of high flight.
And then the son of Cronus loosed a smoking thunderbolt,
and it fell in front of the bright-eyed daughter of the mighty father.
Then bright-eyed Athena spoke to Odysseus:
Zeus-born son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus,
hold back, and cease from the strife of equal war,
lest somehow the son of Cronus, wide-thundering Zeus, be angered at you.
So spoke Athena, and he obeyed, and rejoiced in his heart.
And afterwards Pallas Athena set oaths between the two sides,
the daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus,
like Mentor in form and in voice.