The Odyssey

Tell me, Muse, of the man of many turns, who wandered far and wideafter 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 backin 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 himexcept Poseidon; and he raged unceasinglyagainst 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 otherswere 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' sonand 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 knowsthe depths of every sea, and who himself holds the long pillarsthat keep earth and heaven apart.His daughter keeps the unhappy man back as he weeps,ever charming him with soft, wheedling wordsso that he may forget Ithaca; but Odysseus,longing even to see the smoke leaping upfrom his own land, longs to die. And does your heart not stirat all, Olympian? Did Odysseus not please youbeside 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 givensacrifices beyond measure to the deathless gods who hold wide heaven?But Poseidon, the earth-holder, is forever unrelentinglyangry about the Cyclops, whom he blinded in the eye,godlike Polyphemus, whose strength is greatestof 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-shakerdoes not kill Odysseus, but drives him wandering from his homeland.Come then, let us all here take thought togetherfor his homecoming, how he may return; and Poseidon will let gohis wrath; for he will not be able to contend against allthe 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 quicklytell 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 sonthe more, and put strength in his heart,and that he may call the long-haired Achaeans to assemblyand speak out against all the suitors, who are foreverslaughtering his thick flocks and his rolling-gaited, crumple-horned cattle.And I will send him to Sparta and to sandy Pylosto 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 wetsea 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 Olympusand 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 amusingtheir 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 spongesand 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 comeand 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 heartthat 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 pillarinside the well-polished spear-rack, where many other spearsof 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 uproarand 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 handsfrom 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 kindand 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 downin 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 handsof 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 rainsomewhere 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 feetrather than richer in gold and clothing.But now he has perished by an evil fate, and there is no comfortfor us, even if someone among the earthbound mortalssays 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 sailorsbring 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 housefrom 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 sorrowswith an old woman for a servant, who gives him food and drinkwhenever weariness seizes his limbsas 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 itin 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 otherbest 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 myselfdo 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 arroganceas they feast through the house. Any man of sense would be indignantwho 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 allmen; 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 lamentshe 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 itto 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 itto smear on his bronze-tipped arrows; but Ilus did notgive 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 thoughthow 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 voicefrom 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 hearthow you may kill the suitors in your halls,either by guile or openly; you must no longerbear childishness, for you are no longer that age.Or have you not heard what glory godlike Orestes wonamong 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 shipand 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 youfrom 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 heartshe put strength and courage, and reminded him of his fathermore 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 satlistening 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 drinktheir wine in silence; but stop this song,this sorrowful song, which always wears away the heartin my breast, since unforgettable grief has come upon me most of all.For I long for such a head, remembering alwaysa man whose fame is wide through Hellas and mid-Argos."Then thoughtful Telemachus answered her:"Mother, why do you begrudge the faithful singerhis pleasure, wherever his mind moves him? Singers are notto blame, but Zeus is the cause somewhere, who givesto 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 morewhich 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 homecomingin 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 handmaidsto 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 Athenacast 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 singersuch 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 youto 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 growswealthy, 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 houseand 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 forcestrips 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 claimsto 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 waitto 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 mothermay 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 courtyardwas 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 goodswhile 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 himmost 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 strapwith 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.

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 heraldsto 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 Odysseusto Ilios of the good horses, in the hollow ships,Antiphos the spearman; and the savage Cyclops killed himin 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 comeon 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 Zeusbring 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 handthe 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 housein two ways: I have lost a noble father, who once among youhere was king, and was gentle as a father;and now a far greater evil, which will soonbreak 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 fatherIkarios, so that he himself might dower his daughterand 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 winerecklessly; and much is consumed. For there is no mansuch as Odysseus was, to ward off ruin from the house.But we are not such as to defend it; and even thenwe 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 wellis 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 downby this painful grief — unless somewhere my noble father Odysseusdid 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 betterthat 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 daredanswer 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 finishthis shroud, lest my thread be wasted in vain,a burial robe for the hero Laertes, for the time whenthe 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 knowin your own heart, and all the Achaeans may know:send your mother away, and bid her marrywhomever 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 witsand 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 nowput 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 willher 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 muchto Ikarios, if I of my own will sent my mother away.For from her father I shall suffer evils, and other pains a godwill 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-thunderingsent 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 excelledin 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 Odysseuswill not long be far from his own dear ones, but even now,being near, he is planting slaughter and death for themall; and for many others too there will be evil,who dwell in clearly-seen Ithaca. But long before thatlet us take thought how we may stop them; and let them themselvesstop 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 Iliosand 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 Odysseusperished 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 wordsbeguile 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 grievein 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 ceasefrom 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 neverequal, as long as she puts off the Achaeansover this marriage; and we, waiting day after day,compete over her excellence, and do not go after other womenwhom 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 Pylosto learn of my father's return, who long ago went away,in case some mortal tells me, or I hear a voicefrom 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 landI 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 roseMentor, 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 Odysseusamong the people he ruled, and he was gentle as a father.But the proud suitors I do not begrudgefor doing violent deeds through the wicked scheming of their minds;for they stake their own heads and violently devourthe house of Odysseus, and say he will never come home.But now I am angry at the rest of the people, that all of yousit silent, and do not with a wordstop 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 hardfor men to fight even against more, over a dinner.For even if Odysseus of Ithaca himself cameand in his heart wished to drive the noble suitorsfeasting 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 thereif 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 tidingshere 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 houseand bid me in a ship over the misty seato 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 companionswill quickly gather, willing men. There are shipsmany 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 longdid 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 otherevil 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 soonerto holy Pylos, for tidings of your noble father.Then wise Telemachus answered him:Antinous, it is in no way possible among you overbearing mento feast and be glad in peace, without being hurt.Was it not enough that before you cut down many noblepossessions of mine, suitors, while I was still a child?But now that I am grown and hear the words of othersand 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 Pylosor 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 housewe 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 layand clothing in chests, and plenty of sweet-smelling oil;and jars of old honey-sweet winestood there, holding within the unmixed divine drink,fitted in a row against the wall, in case ever Odysseusshould return home after enduring many sorrows.And there were close-set doors, tightly joined,double-folding; and within, a woman steward night and daykept 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 keepin 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, whenmy mother goes up to her upper room and thinks of bed.For I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylosto 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 youto 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 ithe set all the gear that well-benched ships carry.He moored it at the edge of the harbour, and around it noble companionsgathered 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 longdid 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 companionssit at the oars awaiting your coming;but let us go, let us not delay the journey long.So speaking, Pallas Athena led the wayswiftly; 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 alreadygathered 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 shiplaid 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 herTelemachus 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 themto lay hold of the gear; and they obeyed him as he urged.And the pine mast, inside the hollow mast-boxthey 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 waveroared 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.

Now the Sun rose up, leaving the lovely lake,into the bronze-bright heaven, to shine for the deathless godsand 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 mensat, 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 learnabout 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 thinkyou were born and raised without the will of the gods."So speaking, Pallas Athena led the wayswiftly, 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 comradeswere 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 feaston soft fleeces upon the sea sand,beside his brother Thrasymedes and his own father;and he gave them portions of the innards, and poured wineinto a golden cup; and addressing her he spoketo 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 wineto pour libation, for I think that he tooprays 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 begrudgeus, 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 returnfor 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 askthese 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 randomlike pirates over the sea, who roam aboutstaking 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 willingto tell me of that man's wretched death, if perhaps you saw itwith your own eyes, or heard the word from anotheras 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 deedamong 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 thatland we endured, we unconquerable sons of the Achaeans,both all that we wandered with our ships on the misty seain 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 mencould 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 counselface to face, since godlike Odysseus surpassed them by farwith all sorts of tricks — your father, if trulyyou are his offspring; wonder holds me as I look at you.For truly your words are like his; you would not thinka younger man could speak so like him.There, while I and godlike Odysseusnever once spoke apart in assembly or in council,but holding one spirit in mind and prudent counselwe 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 homecomingfor the Argives, since not all were understanding or just;therefore many of them met an evil doomfrom 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 Achaeansto remember their homecoming on the broad back of the sea,but it did not please Agamemnon at all; for he wishedto 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 upwith a wondrous cry, and the counsel was divided among them.All that night we passed in wakefulness, devising hard thingsagainst one another; for Zeus was preparing a pain of evil.At dawn we dragged some ships into the bright seaand put in our possessions and the deep-girdled women.But half the host was held back, waitingthere beside Atreus' son Agamemnon, shepherd of the people;and half of us embarked and sailed; and the shipssailed 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 shipsaround 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 shipsran swiftly over the fish-filled paths, and at Geraestusthey put in by night; and to Poseidonwe set many thigh-pieces of bulls, having measured the great sea.It was the fourth day, when in Argos the comradesof Tydeus' son, Diomedes, tamer of horses,were mooring the trim ships; but I held on toward Pylos, and neverdid the fair wind cease, once the god first sent it to blow.So I came, dear child, knowing nothing, and I know nothingof 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 manhas 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 Achaeanswill 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 peoplehate 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 Odysseusin 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 methese 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 Agamemnonperished by the trick of Aegisthus and of his own wife.But truly, death that is common to all, not even the godscan ward off from a man they love, when oncethe 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 alreadythe immortals have planned death and black doom for him.But now I wish to ask and question another matterof 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 elseamong 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 apartas he lay on the plain far from the city, and noneof 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 Atreushad 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 islandand 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 menin 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 seain his hollow ships, reached the steep mountain of Maleaas he ran, then far-thundering Zeus planned for hima 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 watercarried 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 funeralof 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 houseso insolent, lest they devour all yourpossessions, 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 hopeto come, whom the storm-winds first swept off courseinto such a great sea, from where not even birdsgo 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 escortsto 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 immortalswe may think of sleep; for this is the hour for it.For already the light has gone beneath the darkness, and it is not fittingto 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 Telemachusboth 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 shiplike 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 Odysseusshall not lie down on the ship's deck planks, while Ilive, 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 fittingfor Telemachus to obey you, since so it is far better.But he will now follow you, that he may sleepin 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 shipnow; but at dawn I go to the great-hearted Cauconians,where a debt is owed to me, not a new oneand 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 yearthe housekeeper opened and loosed the lid from;from it the old man mixed a bowl, and poured many libationsand 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 Neleusused 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 Stratiusand 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 possibleit may come, and let the herdsman of the cattle drive it;and let another go to great-hearted Telemachus' black shipand 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 maidservantswithin 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 camefrom the plain, and the comrades of great-hearted Telemachuscame from the swift trim ship, and the smith cameholding 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 cameto meet the holy rites. And the old charioteer Nestorgave 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 handsin a flowered basin, and in his other hand he held barley-groatsin 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 Nestorbegan with the water for the hands and the barley-groats, and prayed muchto 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 tendonsof the neck, and loosed the cow's strength. And the women cried out,the daughters and daughters-in-law and the revered wifeof Nestor, Eurydice, eldest of the daughters of Clymenus.Then the men raised the cow from the broad-wayed earthand 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-piecesall 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 wineover 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 upto 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 Telemachusand 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 wineand 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 unwillinglyinto 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 therethey finished the journey; for so the swift horses carried them.And the sun set and all the streets were shadowed.

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 assentto give her, and now the gods were bringing the marriage to fulfilment.So he was sending her there with horses and chariots to journeyto 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 ageof 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 sangplaying the lyre, and two tumblers whirledthrough 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-giftat other men's tables — if ever Zeusshall grant that we cease from sorrow hereafter. So unyokethe strangers' horses, and lead the men in to feast."So he spoke, and the other darted through the hall and calledthe other ready squires to follow him.They loosed the sweating horses from beneath the yokeand 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 moonwas 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 overa 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 fleshof 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 areamong men; for your parents' race has not perished,but you are of the race of Zeus-fostered kingswho 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 wantof 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 perishedin 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 anotherI 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 himsorrows were to come, and for me grief ever unforgottenfor that man, that he is so long gone, and we do not knowwhether he is alive or dead. And surely they mourn him,old Laertes and wise-hearted Penelopeand 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 eyeswith both hands. And Menelaus marked him,and then pondered in his heart and in his spiritwhether 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 basketof silver, whose rims were fitted with gold.This the handmaid Phylo brought and set beside her,stuffed with finely wrought yarn; and upon itthe 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 arewho 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 Achaeanscame 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 toiledfor 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 heartto come here and at first display his speechesface to face with you, whose voice delights us like a god's.But Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, sent me outto 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 gonein his halls, when he has no other helpers,as now for Telemachus — his father is gone, and there are no othersin 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 otherArgives if he came, if over the sea Olympian wide-thundering Zeusgranted 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 sonand all his people, after laying waste one cityof those that lie around and are ruled by me.And we would often mingle here together; and nothingwould 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 saythat you were the wisest of mortals beyond all others,whenever we spoke of you in his hallsand talked with one another.And now, if it may be, listen to me; for I at leasttake no pleasure in weeping after dinner, but early-borndawn will come; and I would not begrudgeweeping 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 manamong the Argives — you must know of him; for I at leastnever met him or saw him; but they say Antilochuswas 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 manwould 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 Cronusspins 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 pourwater over our hands. Speeches too there will beat 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 sonwere 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 mostdrugs, many good ones mixed in, and many baneful;and every man there is a physician knowing more than allother 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 evilto one man at one time, to another at another; he can do all things —come now, sit and feast in the hallsand 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 enduredin 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 allwere 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 oathnot to reveal Odysseus among the Trojans beforehe 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 bronzehe came back to the Argives, bringing much knowledge.Then the other Trojan women wailed shrilly; but my own heartrejoiced, since my mind had already turned to goinghome again, and I grieved for the folly that Aphroditegave 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 manyheroic men, and I have travelled over much land;but never yet have I seen with my eyes such a oneas 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 bestof 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 outor 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 mouthrelentlessly 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 oncemay lie down and take our pleasure in sweet sleep."So he spoke, and Argive Helen told the maidservantsto set up beds beneath the portico and throw on finepurple 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 alwaysslaughter 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 willingto tell me of that man's cruel destruction, if somewhere you have seen itwith your own eyes, or heard the word from anotheras 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 youin 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 bedthat these weaklings wished to lie in!As when in a thicket a deer has laid her newborn, milk-fed fawnsto sleep, and ranges over the slopes and the grassy glensto feed, and then a strong lion comes to that bed of hersand 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 leastwill 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 travelin a whole day, when a shrill fair wind blows behind her.And in it there is a good harbour, from which men launchtheir equal ships into the sea after drawing dark water.There the gods held me twenty days, and never did any fair windsappear blowing, the winds that areescorts 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 fishingwith 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 cannotfind 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 musthave 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 depthsof 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 hallswhile 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 brineunder 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 appearsand lay you down in a row; and do you choose well threecompanions, 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 creepupon 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 seaI went, praying much to the gods; and three of my companionsI 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 theylay down in rows along the breakwater of the sea;and at noon the old man came from the sea, and found the sealswell-fed, and went along all of them, and counted their number;and he counted us first among the monsters, and nothing in his heartsuspected there was a trick; then he too lay down.But we rushed on him with a shout, and threw our armsabout 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 cannotfind 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 Zeusand to the other gods before you embarked, so that you might comemost swiftly to your fatherland, sailing over the wine-dark sea.For it is not your fate to see your friends and reachyour well-built home and your fatherland beforeyou go back to the waters of the river of Egypt, rain-fed,and offer sacred hecatombsto 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 seato 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 shipor 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 youto know them, nor to learn my mind; nor do I thinkyou 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 Achaeansperished 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 Gyraeanrocks, 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 handsand 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 awayin his hollow ships; and lady Hera saved him.But when he was soon about to reach the steepmountain of Malea, then a storm snatched him upand carried him over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily,to the edge of the country, where Thyestes oncehad 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 fatherlandand touched and kissed his own land; and from him manyhot tears poured, since he gladly saw the land.But a watchman saw him from the lookout, whomcrafty 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 districthe 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 himafter 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 heartno 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 Oresteshas killed him first, and you will come upon his funeral."So he spoke, and my heart and my proud spiritagain 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 himby 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 fatedto 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 Winddoes 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 immortalsgave 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 thatI will give you a beautiful cup, so that you may pour libations to the godsimmortal, 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 mein 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 themhere for you yourself, as an ornament; for you rule overa 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 seais 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 allof 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 shelteredme 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 javelinson 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 nearand 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 itto cross over to spacious Elis, where I havetwelve 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 thinkhe had gone to Neleian Pylos, but that he was somewherethere 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 menfollowed with him? Chosen ones of Ithaca, or his ownhirelings 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 bestin the district among us; and I noticed their leadergoing aboard — Mentor, or a god, and he was altogether like him.But this I marvel at: I saw divine Mentor hereyesterday 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 filledwith rage, and his two eyes were like blazing fire:"Oh no, this journey of Telemachus has been accomplishedin 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 Zeusdestroy 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 watchin 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 timeof the words the suitors were brooding in their hearts;for the herald Medon told her, who learned their counselsas 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 Odysseusto 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 heardof your own fathers before, when you were children,what kind of man Odysseus was among your parents,never doing or saying anything outrageousin 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 deedsare 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 greaterand more painful, which may the son of Cronus not fulfil:they mean to kill Telemachus with the sharp bronzeas he comes home; and he has gone to hear of his fatherto 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 eyesfilled 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 needto step aboard swift ships, which are horses of the seafor 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 whetherhis own heart urged him to go to Pylos, so that he might learnof 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 strengthto 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 sorrowsbeyond 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 sonfrom the halls, without renown, and I did not hear of his setting out.Cruel women, none of you in your hearts thoughtto wake me from my bed, knowing clearly in your heartswhen 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 possiblehe 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 resolvedto 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 menot 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 thinkthat the blessed gods altogether hate the offspring of Arcesius,but there is still someone who will holdthe 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 hallsburned 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 preparinga 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 wordsalike, in case someone reports them even inside.But come, let us rise in silence and carry outthe 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 menturns 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 youweep or be distressed, since your son is stillone 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 herebefore, since you live very far away.And you bid me cease from my misery and my manypains, 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 menalso 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 hallinto 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.

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 themwas 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 forceand will not let him go; and he cannot reach his own fatherland,for he has no oared ships beside him, nor companionswho might send him over the broad back of the sea.And now they are eager to slay his dear sonas he comes home; and he went to seek tidings of his fatherto 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 returnwith 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 cometo 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 seaand 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 gullthat over the terrible gulfs of the barren seahunts 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 mainlandand went on until he came to the great cave, wherein the nymphof the fair tresses dwelt; and he found her within.A great fire was burning on the hearth, and far away the smellof split cedar and juniper spread over the islandas 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 parsleybloomed. 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 Iwill 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 menwho offer sacrifices to the gods and chosen hecatombs.But there is no way at all to evade the mind of aegis-bearing Zeusor 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 Priamfor nine years, and in the tenth sacked the city and wenthome; 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 cometo 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 menopenly, 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 thronecame upon him with her gentle arrows and slew him.And so when Demeter of the fair tresses, yieldingin her heart, lay with Iasion in love and in bedin 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 thunderboltand 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 himimmortal and ageless for all his days.But since there is no way at all to evade the mind of aegis-bearing Zeusor 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 companionswho 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 neverdry of tears, and his sweet life was draining awayas 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 lifewaste away; for now I will send you off with a ready heart.Come, cut long timbers and fit them with bronzeinto a broad raft; and build a deck upon ithigh 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 shipscross 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 oaththat 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 thoughtto 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 greatestand 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 asI would devise for myself, when such need came upon me.For my mind too is righteous, and in my own breastmy heart is not of iron, but is pitiful."So speaking, the shining among goddesses led the wayswiftly; 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 fatherlandat once? Farewell to you, then, even so.If you but knew in your heart how many sorrowsit 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 seeyour 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 seemlyfor 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 knowall this full well: that thoughtful Penelopeis 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 daysto 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 muchin 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 caveand 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 beltbeautiful 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 itwas a very beautiful handle of olive wood, well fitted.Then she gave him a polished adze; and she led the wayto 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 wickerto 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 sackof 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-wardand 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 himto 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 appearedto 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 counselabout Odysseus, while I was among the Ethiopians,and now he is near the land of the Phaeacians, where it is his fateto 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 blastsof every kind of wind, and with clouds he coveredboth 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 Windand 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 onof 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 fateon that day when the most of the Trojans hurledtheir 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-oarhe let go from his hands; and the mast in the middle was brokenby 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 notrise 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 brinefrom 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 thistledownacross 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 Earthshakerso 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 homecomingto 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 sealike 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 sawthe 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 chaffon the threshing floor, and scatters it all this way and that,so it scattered the long timbers of the raft. But Odysseusclimbed 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 swellhe 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 waveroars with the surf, and the smooth rock rises up,and the sea is deep close in, and there is no way with my feetto stand on both of them and escape the misery.Lest as I come out a great wave snatch me and cast meagainst the jagged rock; and my effort will be useless.But if I swim further on, in the hope that I may findsloping shores and harbors of the sea,I fear that a squall may snatch me up againand carry me over the fish-filled sea, groaning heavily,or some great sea-monster may be roused against me by a godout 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 struckhim 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 rockshis 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 findsloping 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 manwho comes as a wanderer, as I now cometo 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 himinto the river's mouth. And he bent both kneesand his strong hands; for his dear heart was overcome by the sea.His whole skin was swollen, and much seawater gushedfrom 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 Inoreceived 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 dewovercome 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 goand 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 waterin an open place; and he crept under two bushesthat 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 Odysseuscrept. 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 menin 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 ashesat 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 Athenapoured sleep over his eyes, so that she might put an end to himmost quickly, covering his dear eyelids from the toil of weariness.

So the much-enduring noble Odysseus slept there,overcome by sleep and toil; but Athenawent 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 themin 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 maidenslept, 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; andyour marriage is near at hand, when you must dress yourselfin 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 quicklyyou may be ready, since you shall be a maiden no longer;for already the noblest men throughout the districtof all the Phaeacians woo you, where your own lineage is.But come, urge your glorious father at early dawnto make ready the mules and the wagon, which may carryyour girdles and robes and shining coverlets.And for you yourself it is far better than goingon foot; for the washing places are far from the city.So saying, grey-eyed Athena departedto Olympus, where they say the gods' seat is foreversecure. It is not shaken by any winds, nor everwet with rain, nor does snow come near it, but a clear skyis 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 wokefair-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 metas 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 wagonhigh and well-wheeled, so that I may carry the glorious garmentsto 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 marriageto 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-wagonand 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 foodof every kind, and put in relishes, and poured in winein 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 waterflowed out, very good for cleansing even soiled things,there they released the mules from the wagon.And they drove them along the eddying riverto graze on honey-sweet grass; and they from the wagontook 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 mostthe 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 mountainsand 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 eyesburn; but he goes after cattle or sheepor wild deer; and his belly bids himto 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 Athenaput 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 thingto 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, Iliken 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 heartis 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 heartfor 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 greatlyto 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 mefrom the island of Ogygia. Now a god has cast me here,that I may perhaps suffer evil even here too; for I do not thinkit will cease, but the gods will yet accomplish many things first.But, lady, have pity; for after suffering many evilsI have come to you first, and of the others I know no oneof 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 goodlike-mindedness; for there is nothing better or noblerthan when a man and wife hold a houseof 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 elsethat 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 menbringing 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 Nausicaathe 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 myselfmay wash the brine from my shoulders, and about me with oilanoint myself; for long has the anointing been from my skin.And I will not bathe in front of you; for I am ashamedto 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 riverthe 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 himgreater to look on and broader, and down from his headshe sent curling hair, like a hyacinth flower.As when a man pours gold over silver,a skilled man, whom Hephaestus taught and Pallas Athenaevery 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 ategreedily; 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 youto the house of my father, the wise-hearted, where I say youwill 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 wallhigh, and a beautiful harbor on either side of the city,and a narrow entrance; and the curved shipsare 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 afterwardfind 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 husbandfrom elsewhere; for surely she dishonors thesePhaeacians, 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 quicklyyou 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 wecome 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 askfor the house of my father, great-hearted Alcinous.It is easy to recognize, and even a foolish child could lead youto it; for not at all like the otherPhaeacian houses is the house of Alcinousthe hero made. But when the house and the courtyard cover you,go very quickly through the hall, until you cometo 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 cometo 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 followthe handmaids and Odysseus, and with her mind she applied the whip.And the sun set, and they came to the glorious grovesacred 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 mewhen 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 fearedher father's brother; and he raged fiercelyagainst godlike Odysseus before he reached his own land.

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 herlike the deathless gods, and they loosed the mules from under the wagonand 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 allthe 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 Athenapoured a thick mist about him, with kindly thought for Odysseus,lest any of the great-hearted Phaeacians meeting himshould 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 manAlcinous, who rules among these people?For I too have come here, a stranger much-tried,from a far land; and so I know no manof 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 wayswiftly; and he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.And the ship-famed Phaeacians did not mark himcoming through the city among them; for Athenaof the fair braids, the dread goddess, did not suffer it — she poureda 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 wallstowering, 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 meto show you; and you will find the Zeus-nourished kingsfeasting at the feast. Go in, and in your heartfear nothing; for a bold man proves better in alldeeds, 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 parentsshe comes who bore Alcinous the king.Nausithous first did Poseidon the Earth-shakerbeget, 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 struckas 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 allby her dear children and by Alcinous himselfand by the people, who look on her as a godand 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 reachyour high-roofed house and your own native land."So speaking, bright-eyed Athena departedover the barren sea, and left lovely Scheria,and came to Marathon and wide-streeted Athens,and entered the close-built house of Erechtheus. But Odysseuswent toward the famous house of Alcinous; and his heartpondered 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 mindto 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 satdrinking and eating; for they had always plenty.And golden youths on well-built pedestalsstood 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 menin driving a swift ship on the sea, so the womenare skilled at the loom; for Athena gave them beyond othersto know lovely works and good minds.And outside the courtyard, near the doors, is a great orchardof 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 failsin winter or in summer, but lasts the year; and everthe 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 placeis drying in the sun, and others they are gathering,and others they tread; and in front are unripe grapesshedding 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 Phaeacianspouring 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 hallholding 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 livein blessing, and may each leave to his childrenhis possessions in the halls and the honor the people gave him;but for me, speed my convoy to reach my homelandswiftly, since I have long suffered sorrows far from my loved ones."So speaking, he sat down on the hearth in the ashesbeside 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 menand 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 heraldsto 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 pitcherover 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 wineto 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 offerfair sacred things to the gods, and then we will take thoughtfor his convoy, so that the stranger, without toil or grief,by our convoy may reach his native landrejoicing 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 thereafterhe shall suffer whatever fate and the heavy Spinnersspun 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 plainlyto 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 leastam 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 everbids me eat and drink, and makes me forget allthat 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 seenmy possessions, my slaves, and my great high-roofed house."So he spoke, and all of them praised him and urgedthat 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 Alcinoussat; 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 clothingfair, 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 ordermy 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 oneconsorts 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 boltand 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 nightthe gods brought me to the island Ogygia, where Calypsoof the fair braids, a dread goddess, dwells, who took me inand kindly loved and fed me, and said she would make medeathless and ageless all my days;but she never persuaded the heart in my breast.There I stayed seven years, steadfast, and everwet 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 appearedof 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 wavesuffered me to be borne on the raft, groaning thickly.Then a storm scattered the raft; but Iswam and cut through this gulf, until wind and watercarrying 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 cameto 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 leavesover 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 fittingin this, that she did not bring you with her women handmaidsinto 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 suchas 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 cometo 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 peoplewho saw it, when they brought golden-haired Rhadamanthysto look upon Tityus, the son of Earth.And they went there and accomplished it without toilon that same day, and came home again.And you yourself will know in your mind how the bestmy 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 earthwould be unquenchable, and I would reach my homeland."So these two spoke such things to one another;and white-armed Arete commanded the handmaidsto set a bed beneath the portico and throw on fair blanketsof 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 slepton 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.

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 themto the Phaeacian assembly place, which had been built beside their ships.And coming there they sat down on the polished stonesclose 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 mortalsgathering; and many marveled, seeing him,the warlike son of Laertes; and on him Athenapoured 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 Phaeaciansand 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 menbe 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 housecome, so that we may welcome the stranger in the halls,and let no one refuse. And call the divine singerDemodocus; for to him above all the god gave songto 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 afterwardsthey went to the great house of warlike Alcinous.And the porticos and the courts and the men's rooms were filledwith 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 chairin the midst of the feasters, leaning it against a tall pillar;and he hung the clear lyre from a pegabove 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 godswith dreadful words, and the lord of men Agamemnonrejoiced in his heart, that the best of the Achaeans were quarreling.For so had Phoebus Apollo prophesied to himin holy Pytho, when he crossed the stone thresholdto consult the oracle; for then the beginning of trouble rolled onfor Trojans and Danaans through the will of great Zeus.These things the famous singer sang; but Odysseustaking his great purple cloak in his sturdy handspulled 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 cloakand taking the two-handled cup poured libations to the gods;but whenever he began again and the best of the Phaeaciansurged 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 feastand with the lyre, which is companion to a bountiful feast;but now let us go out and make trial of allthe contests, so that the stranger may tell his own friendswhen he has returned home, how much we surpass othersin 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 buildof 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 togetherthey 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 knowsand has learned any contest. In build at least he is not bad,in thighs and calves and both arms aboveand in his sturdy neck and great strength; nor in his youthis he lacking, but he is broken down by many troubles;for I say there is nothing worse than the seato 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 livesthan 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 alreadyyour 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 knowingcontests, 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 waysand 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 allmen, neither build nor mind nor eloquence.For one man is weaker in form,but the god crowns his words with beauty, and othersdelighting in him look at him; and he speaks steadfastlywith 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 otherwisecould even a god make it, but your mind is worthless.You have stirred my heart in my dear chestby speaking out of order. But I am not ignorant of contests,as you say, but I think I am among the firstwhile I trusted in my youth and my hands.But now I am held by misery and pains; for I have endured many thingspassing 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 discusgreater and thicker, heavier by no littlethan 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 crouchedthe 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 markby 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 anotherI 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 hostin 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 crowdof hostile men, even if very many companionsshould stand near and shoot arrows at men.Only Philoctetes surpassed me with the bowin 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 agedid he come in his halls; for Apollo in angerkilled 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 Phaeaciansrun past me; for I have been terribly worn downin many waves, since there was no abundantprovision 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 contestand 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 tellanother of the heroes, when in your hallsyou feast beside your wife and your children,remembering our excellence, what things to us tooZeus 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 dancesand 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 friendswhen he has returned home how much we surpass othersin 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 roseto 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 lyreto Demodocus; and he then went to the middle; and about him young menin first youth stood, skilled in dancing,and they struck the divine dancing floor with their feet. But Odysseusgazed at the flashing of their feet, and marveled in his heart.And the singer, playing the lyre, began to sing beautifullyof the love of Ares and of fair-crowned Aphrodite,how at first they mingled in Hephaestus' housein secret, and he gave many gifts, and shamed the bed and the couchof 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 bondsunbreakable, 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 Hephaestuseager 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 alreadyhe 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 bondsartful, 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 Iwas 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 lovehaving gone to my bed, and I am grieved looking on.I do not expect them to lie so for even a little whilethough they love each other greatly; soon the two will not wishto 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 helpfulHermes, 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 godsas 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 beggingfamous-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 debtand 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 oilimmortal, 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 Odysseuswas 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 Laodamasdance 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 cloudsleaning 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 outstanding 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 districtrule as leaders, and I myself am the thirteenth;of them let each bring him a well-washed cloak and tunicand a talent of precious gold.And let us quickly bring everything together, so that in his handsthe stranger may have them and go rejoicing in heart to dinner.And let Euryalus make amends to him with wordsand 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 hiltis silver, and the scabbard of newly cut ivoryis fitted around it; and it will be worth much to him."So speaking he placed in his hands the silver-studded swordand speaking addressed him with winged words:"Hail, father stranger; and if any word has goneamiss, 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 Alcinousplaced 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 giftswell 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 dayshe may pour libations in his hall to Zeus and the other gods."So he spoke, and Arete told the maidservantsto 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 chestfrom 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 againyou 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 cunningseal, 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 sawthe 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 fatherlandyou 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 godalways 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 himin 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 singershave a share of honor and reverence, because the Musetaught 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 horseof 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 menthat 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 Odysseussat 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 enclosedthe great wooden horse, where all the bestof 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 Deiphobuslike 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 Odysseusmelted, 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 herstriking her back and shoulders with spearslead 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 brotherto a man, who touches his heart even a little.Therefore now do not hide in cunning thoughtswhatever 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 fieldsof men, and they cross the gulf of the sea most swiftlycovered in mist and cloud; nor is there ever for themany fear of being harmed or perishing.But this, as I once heard my father saying,Nausithous, who said that Poseidon was angrywith 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 accomplishor leave unaccomplished these things, as was dear to his heart.But come, tell me this and recount it accurately,where you wandered and which landsof 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 hearthearing the fate of the Argive Danaans and of Ilion.The gods made that, and spun destructionfor 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 mostnear 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.