The Odyssey (Oxford World's Classics Hardback Collection), page 42
that while you are still here Odysseus will return to his house.
If you wish it so, with your own eyes you will witness the
slaying of the suitors who now play the lord in this place.’
Then in turn the cowherd, keeper of his cattle, addressed him:235
‘Ah, stranger, I wish Cronus’ son might fulfil these words!
You would soon know what strength there is in my hands.’
In the same way Eumaeus made a prayer to all the gods, that
Odysseus, man of many designs, might return to his own house.
While they were conversing, one with another, in this way,240
the suitors were plotting death and ruin for Telemachus.
Suddenly there appeared over them a bird of omen,
on their left, a high-soaring eagle, clutching a timid dove;
and Antinous spoke out among them and addressed them:
‘My friends, this plan of ours, the killing of Telemachus,245
will not succeed. Let us rather turn our minds to feasting.’
So spoke Antinous, and his words found favour with them.
So they all went into the palace of godlike Odysseus,
and laid their cloaks down on chairs and seats, and set
about slaughtering some huge sheep and some fat goats,250
and also some fattened swine and a heifer from the herd.
They cooked the entrails and shared them out, and mixed wine
in bowls, and the swineherd handed each man his cup; and
Philoetius, captain of men, passed around the bread in fine
baskets, while Melanthius poured out the wine. So the suitors255
reached out their hands for the food lying ready before them.
Now Telemachus, looking to their advantage, gave Odysseus
a seat inside the strongly built hall, beside the stone doorway,
and placed in front of him a mean stool and a small table.
He then put before him a portion of entrails, and poured wine260
into a cup made of gold, and addressed him in these words:
‘Sit there now, and drink your wine in these men’s company;
and I myself shall protect you from any blows or taunts
of the suitors, since this house is no public meeting-place,
but the house of Odysseus, and I have inherited it from him.265
And you, suitors, hold yourselves back from insults and
blows, and in that way no strife or quarrelling will arise.’
So he spoke, and they all bit their lips hard, and looked in
surprise at Telemachus, because he had spoken so boldly.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke up among them:270
‘Telemachus’ words were harsh, but we Achaeans should
accept them—though there were heavy threats in what he said.
Cronus’ son has blocked our purpose, or else we would by now
have silenced him in his hall, eloquent orator though he is.’
So spoke Antinous, but Telemachus paid no heed to his words. 275
And now heralds were driving a sacred hecatomb for the gods
through the city, and flowing-haired Achaeans were gathering
in the shade of a grove sacred to Apollo who shoots from afar.
When they had cooked the outer meat and drawn it off the spits
they shared it out in portions and dined off the splendid feast.280
And those whose task it was set before Odysseus a helping
equal to what they themselves received, for these were the orders
of Telemachus, the dear son of Odysseus who looked like a god.
But Athena did not altogether intend the lordly suitors to
refrain from heart-wounding insults, since she wanted even285
harsher anguish to enter the heart of Odysseus, Laertes’ son.
There was in the suitors’ number a man of lawless temper,
whose name was Ctesippus, and he had his home in Same.
Trusting, doubtless, in his amazing wealth, he was a persistent
wooer of the wife of Odysseus, a man long gone from home.290
It was this man who now addressed the arrogant suitors:
‘Listen to me, you proud suitors, to what I have to say.
This stranger has for some time had his portion, as is right,
an equal one, for it is not a good or proper thing to treat
Telemachus’ guests badly, whoever may come to this palace.295
So look, I too will give him a guest’s token, which he may
himself pass on as a prized gift—to a bath-attendant or to any
of the servants who live in the palace of godlike Odysseus.’
So he spoke, and in his brawny hand picked up a cow’s
hoof that lay in a basket and threw it; but Odysseus leaned300
his head slightly and dodged it,* hiding his anger with a
grim fierce smile, and the hoof hit the house’s well-built
wall. Then Telemachus rebuked Ctesippus in these words:
‘Ctesippus, it was lucky for you how that turned out!
You missed the stranger, and he dodged your missile;305
otherwise I would have driven my sharp spear through
your midriff, and instead of a wedding your father would be
holding your funeral here; so let no one make a show of
boorishness in my house. I now see and understand things:
and can tell right from wrong; I am no longer a child.310
And yet, for all that, we must endure the sight of all this:
sheep being slaughtered, and wine and bread consumed,
since it is hard for one man by himself to restrain many.
Come, give up your malice and stop your attacks on me;
but if you are really intent on killing me with the bronze,315
that would be my wish also, since it would be far better
to die than day after day to be a witness of these vile acts—
guests subjected to brutal treatment and serving-women
shamefully dragged about through the fine palace.’
So he spoke, and they all remained still and silent.320
Finally Agelaus, Damastor’s son, spoke out among them:
‘My friends, surely no one after such a fair speech
could out of resentment answer it with violent words.
Do not treat this stranger roughly, or any of the servants
who live in the palace of Odysseus who looks like a god.325
To Telemachus and to his mother I would speak a gentle
word, hoping it might be pleasing to the hearts of both:
as long as the spirits in your breasts were fixed in the hope
that Odysseus of many designs would return to his home,
for that time no one could blame you for biding your330
time and restraining the suitors in the palace; that was the
better course, if Odysseus was to come back to his house.
But it has now become clear that he will never return.
So sit beside your mother and explain this carefully to her:
she must marry the best man here, who offers the most gifts,335
and then you may happily manage all your patrimony, and
eat and drink, while she looks after another man’s house.’
Then in turn wise Telemachus answered and addressed him:
‘By Zeus, Agelaus, and by the sufferings of my father, who
is lying dead somewhere far from Ithaca, or is still wandering,340
I am not delaying my mother’s marriage. I urge her to marry
whoever she wishes, and I offer countless gifts to go with her.
Even so, I am ashamed to drive her unwilling from my hall
with a harsh word. May the god never bring this to pass.’
So spoke Telemachus; and among the suitors Pallas Athena345
roused unquenchable laughter, and drove their wits astray.
Now their faces were distorted by maniacal laughter,
and the meat they were eating crawled with blood; their
eyes filled with tears, and their minds strained to cry aloud.
Theoclymenus, a god-fearing man, spoke out among them:350
‘Wretched men! What is this horror afflicting you? Your
heads, your faces, and your knees below are wrapped in night;
sounds of wailing blaze out, your cheeks are wet with tears,
and the walls and fine cross-beams are spattered with blood.
The porch and the court are filled with spectres hurrying355
down to Erebus and darkness. The sun has been wiped from
the high sky, and an evil mist is spread over the world.’
So he spoke, but they all laughed gaily at him. Among them
Eurymachus, the son of Polybus, was the first to speak:
‘Our newly arrived guest from abroad has lost his wits!360
Quick, my young friends, show him out of the house and
send him to the meeting-place; he thinks it is night in here.’
Then in turn godlike Theoclymenus addressed him:
‘Eurymachus, I am far from asking you to provide me with
guides; I have eyes and ears, and both my feet, as well as365
a mind in my breast that is sound and by no means useless.
I will rely on these to leave this place, for I can see a calamity
advancing upon you, which not a single one of you suitors
will be able to avoid or elude, because of your arrogant
deeds and reckless plots in the house of godlike Odysseus.’370
So he spoke, and went out of the well-situated palace, and
came to the house of Peiraeus, who readily welcomed him.
But now the suitors were all looking at each other, trying to
provoke Telemachus by treating his guests with ridicule;
and this is what one of the arrogant young men would say:375
‘Telemachus, no one is unluckier in his guests than you!
First, you keep a needy vagrant such as this man here,
always wanting food and wine, with no talent for hard work
or fighting, nothing more than a useless weight on the earth;
and then there is this other fellow who stood up and prophesied! 380
You would do much better to take some advice from me:
let us throw these strangers into a many-benched ship and send
them off to Sicily, where they would bring you a good price.’
This is what the suitors said, but he paid no heed to their words,
and kept looking in silence at his father, waiting always for385
when he was ready to lay his hands on the shameless suitors.
Circumspect Penelope, daughter of Icarius, had positioned
her beautiful chair directly opposite the suitors, and was
listening to what each of the men was saying in the hall.
They had slaughtered a great number of cattle, and amid390
much laughter had prepared a pleasant and satisfying meal;
but never could there have been a more unpalatable feast than
the supper which a goddess and a brave man would soon put
before them; for with them the shameful business had begun.
BOOK TWENTY-ONE
But now the goddess grey-eyed Athena put into the mind
of circumspect Penelope, daughter of Icarius, to lay
before the suitors the bow and grey iron in Odysseus’
halls, to be both a contest and the beginning of slaughter.
She climbed a tall staircase in the house, taking5
in her sturdy hand a cunningly forged key, finely
made of bronze; and the handle on it was of ivory.
Then she set off with her women for the room that was
farthest away, where the treasures of her lord were laid up—
bronze and gold and iron wrought with much labour.10
There too was stored his curved bow, and the quiver
that held his arrows; and in it were many grief-laden shafts.
His guest-friend Iphitus, Eurytus’ son, a man like the gods,
had given it to him when they met once in Lacedaemon.
These two fell in with each other in Messene, in the house15
of shrewd Ortilochus. Odysseus had gone there to recover
a debt which was owed him by the whole people: men of
Messene had stolen some sheep from Ithaca, three hundred,
with their shepherds, carrying them off in many-benched ships;
so on their account Odysseus, still young, had undertaken this20
mission’s long road, sent by his father and the other elders.
Iphitus on the other hand was looking for some horses he had
lost—twelve mares, with work-enduring mules at the teat.
These, however, later became his death and doom, at the
time when he encountered the mighty-spirited son of Zeus,25
Heracles, a hero well-versed in monstrous deeds:
he killed Iphitus in his own house, though he was his host,
hard man that he was, paying no heed to the gods’ vengeance,
nor to the table he had put before Iphitus. He killed the man,
and kept the strong-hoofed mares for himself in his halls.30
It was while Iphitus was seeking these that he met Odysseus
and gave him the bow, which great Eurytus used to carry in
the past, and when he died in his high halls he left it to his son.
In return Odysseus gave him a sharp sword and a stout spear.
This was the beginning of a close friendship; but they did not35
further their intimacy at table, for before they could Zeus’
son slew Iphitus, Eurytus’ son, a man who resembled the gods.
He it was who gave glorious Odysseus the bow, though he
never took it with him when going to war in his black ships,
but it was always stored in its place in his halls, as a reminder40
of his dear friend; but in his own country he always carried it.
Now when Penelope, bright among women, reached the store,
she set her foot on the oaken threshold—which a carpenter
had once planed skilfully and made straight against a line,
and had sunk doorposts in it, on which he hung shining doors—45
and straightaway she unwound the leather strap from its handle
and thrust the key inside, and, aiming straight at them,
knocked back the bolts.* With a sound like the roar of a bull
grazing in a meadow the handsome doors groaned when
knocked by the key, and they quickly opened up before her.50
She stepped up on to the raised platform, where stood
her chests, in which sweet-smelling clothes were stored;
and reaching up, she took the bow down from its peg,
together with its shining case which protected it all around.
There and then she sat down and set the case on her knees,55
and wept loudly as she lifted from it the bow of her lord.
Then, when she had comforted herself with weeping,
she set off for the hall to join the haughty suitors,
holding in her hands the curved bow and the quiver that
contained its arrows; and in it were many grief-laden shafts.60
With her went serving-women, carrying a box in which
lay stored much iron and bronze, prizes won by her lord.
When she, bright among women, had reached the suitors,
she stood beside a pillar supporting the strongly built roof,
holding her shining veil in front of her face, and a loyal65
woman servant took her place on either side of her.
Without more ado she addressed the suitors in these words:
‘Listen to me, you proud suitors! You have been vexing
this house with your interminable eating and drinking,
now that its master has been gone for a long time; nor70
could you find any words by way of an excuse except
that you desired to marry me and make me your wife.
So look, suitors—here is the prize, before your very eyes!
I shall set before you the great bow of godlike Odysseus,
and whoever can set his hands to the bow, string it with the75
greatest ease, and shoot an arrow through all twelve axes,*
with him I shall go, forsaking the house to which I came
as a bride—such a beautiful house, full of life’s sustenance,
one which I think I will always remember, even in dreams.’
So she spoke, and ordered Eumaeus, the good swineherd,80
to lay out the bow and the grey iron axes before the suitors.
As he took them and laid them down he burst into tears;
and the oxherd wept too, when he saw his master’s bow.
Antinous flung a rebuke at them, hailing them in these words:
‘Foolish bumpkins, whose thoughts last no longer than a day!85
Wretches, both of you; why shed tears, and why disturb
this lady’s heart in her breast, when even without this
her spirit is deep in grief, because she has lost her dear lord?
Sit down and eat in silence, or else go outside and do your
weeping there. But leave the bow and arrows where they are;90
they are going to be a test for the suitors, a hard one, for
I do not think this well-polished bow can easily be strung;
there is no one among us all here who is equal to the man
Odysseus was—I saw him once myself, and I remember
him well, though I was only a child at the time.’95
So he spoke, though in fact the heart in his breast hoped
that he would string the bow and shoot through the iron axes.
And yet he was to be the first to taste an arrow from the hands
of blameless Odysseus, whom he now treated with contempt as
he sat in his halls, urging all his companions to do the same.100
Then Telemachus, man of divine strength, spoke among them:
‘What am I doing? Cronus’ son has surely taken away my wits!
My dear mother, sensible though she is, is saying she will go
with some other man, putting this house behind her, yet
here am I laughing and being glad in my witless mind.105
