Book 1

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.

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