Complete Works of William Morris, page 621
Then in thy heart and thy soul thou shalt hold and cherish the thought
What wise in thy very homestead these Wooers ye may slay,
Whether by guile it be done or straight out in the face of the day:
For thou of years so waxen childs’ play befitteth no more.
Or hast thou not heard of the fame which the great Orestes bore
Amid all the folk of mankind, when he slew his father’s bane
Ægisthus the guileful of rede who his glorious sire had slain?
And thou, dear heart, for both great and fair do I look on thee,
Be valiant and gather fair fame of the men who are going to be.
But now to my ship swift-faring must I get me aback at this tide
And unto my fellow-farers, who downcast my coming abide,
But thou, be heedful of all and ponder the words I have said.”
But Telemachus the heedful to her the answer sped:
“O guest, with words full friendly hast thou spoken with all goodwill
As a father speaks to a son, and I shall remember it still.
But come now, abide yet a little, although thou be pressed to depart,
Until well washen and merry, with all content in thy heart
Thou may’st wend to thy ship in joyance bearing a gift with thee,
Dear-bought, exceeding beauteous, an heirloom given by me,
Such as dear guests beloved will give for guests to take.”
But therewithal the Goddess, grey-eyed Athene spake.
“Nay hoard me no longer as now, for I long for the road and the way,
And the gift that thy dear heart biddeth thou shalt give on another day;
When I come again thou shalt give it, and home shall I bear it indeed,
And thou bearing out things goodlyshalt have goodly things for thy meed.’’
So spake the Grey-eyed Athene, and departed e’en as a fowl,
In an eagle-shape she flew; but in the young man’s soul
Stoutness and might had she planted, and ever more and more
He bethought him of his father; so he turned these matters o’er
And his soul was fulfilled of wonder, for he deemed it a God to be.
So he got him back to the Wooers, and e’en as a God was he.
Now to these was the minstrel singing, and silent there they sat,
And hearkened the sad returning the Achaean war-host gat
From Troy-town, all the story of Pallas’ heavy doom.
But the child of Icarius heard it from above in the upper room;
Wise-heart Penelope hearkened and caught up the holy song:
Down then from the stair high-builded of her house she cometh along,
But not alone, for behind her there follow maidens twain.
But when that Glory of Women the Wooers’ band doth gain,
She standeth beside the door-post of that strong-builded stead,
Before her cheeks yet holding the gleaming gear of her head,
On each hand a heedful maiden beside her in the hall.
So to the glorious singer she speaketh, and weepeth withal:
“O Phemius, since for man’s solace thou knowest full many a thing,
The deeds of men and of Godfolk, such fame as minstrels sing,
Sit, while they drink and are silent, and sing to them somewhat of these.
But from this woful rhyme, this lamenting, I bid thee to cease,
For the heart that is dear in my breast doth it ever waste and wear,
Since I, and I above all a ceaseless sorrow bear,
For so dear a head sore longing, remembering still the man
Whose fame was abroad in Hellas, and through mid Argos ran.”
But Telemachus the heedful to her thus answered and spake:
“O mother, and why dost thou grudge it that the faithful minstrel should make Such glee as his heart would have him? Nor lay we on singers sweet
This blame, but on Zeus let us lay it, he that to each doth mete,
Yea to each of mer gainseeking such measure as he will.
Blame not the man though he singeth of the Danaans’ doom of ill;
For ever to men that hearken will minstrels make no doubt
To tell of the newest tidings, if such be floating about.
But the tale of such-like things thy soul must hear and abide,
For it was not only Odysseus that lost his returning-tide,
But by Troy-town moreover fell many another man.
But come now, go to thy bower, and deal with such things as ye can:
With the rock and the loom be busy, and thine handmaids order and teach,
That they speed the work and the weaving: but for men is the word and
the speech;
For all, but for me the chiefest, for here am I the might and the power.’
She wondered and back again she wended unto her bower,
And deep in her heart was she holding the heedful word he had said.
To her bower aloft was she gone with wife and with serving-maid;
There she wept for her man beloved, for Odysseus, till at last
Sweet slumber and sleep on her eyelids Grey-eyed Athene cast
But again rose the din of the Wooers through the shadowy halls and wide,
And each and all were they longing to lie in the bed by her side.
Then Telemachus the heedful took up the word again:
“O Wooers of my mother, O measureless masterful men!
Now speed we the feast in joyance, nor din of riot raise,
For lovely it is to be hearkening to such a minstrel’s lays,
Whose speech is the voice of a God, so fair it is and fit.
But wend we all in the dawning and in assembly sit,
That there I may speak before you, and a downright word ye may hear:
To wit, from this house be ye wending, and seek your meat elsewhere,
Yourselves your own wealth eating from house to house in turn!
But if it like you better, and if for the sweetness ye yearn
Of wasting another’s life-store, and no atonement to pay,
Rejoice therein! But for me to the Deathless Gods will I pray,
If for deed the deed’s requital perchance from Zeus may come,
And unavenged shall ye perish one day in this house and home.”
So spake, and all the Wooers they bit their lips in wrath,
And at Telemachus marvelled, so boldly spake he forth.
But him Antinoiis answered, Eupeithes’ son was he:
“Telemachus, the Godfolk are surely teaching thee
To speak out high and haughty, and put forth the daring word?
So may the son of Cronos ne’er make thee king and lord
O’er Ithaca the seagirt the heirloom that ye take.”
But Telemachus the heedful these words in answer spake:
“Antinoiis, art thou angry with the shapen word of my voice?
This thing, if of Zeus it were given, I should take it and rejoice;
Or of all that befalleth manfolk dost thou deem it the evillest thing?
For look you, I deem it no evil to become a lord and a king,
For in wealth his house is waxen and most glorious doth he grow.
But many a King of Achaeans meseems there is e’en now
In Ithaca the seagirt, both young and old; and one
Amidst these may chance on the lordship since Odysseus’ days are done.
But o’er this my house and my war-thralls will I verily be the king,
E’en they that Odysseus gat me in his gainful warfaring.”
Then Eurymachus, Polybus* child, thus answering, spake on high:
“Telemachus, as for this thing on the knees of the Gods doth it lie,
Which man shall be King of Achaeans in Ithaca girt by the sea;
And surely thine own shalt thou have, and King in thine house shalt thou be
And ne’er may the man come hither to force thee against thy will,
And wrest thy wealth from thine hand while men live in Ithaca still.
But now, O friend, would I ask thee of the guest that dealt with thee,
Whence was the man among menfolk? Of what land did he boast him to be?
What was the earth that begat him and the fields of his father’s land?
Came he with tidings and message that thy father is nigh unto hand?
Or seeking some need of his own thus wise has he hitherward hied?
Buthe leapt up and straightway was gone, nor here to be known would abide,
And yet by his mien and his visage was he nowise one of the base.”
But Telemachus the heedful thus answered to the case:
“Eurymachus, gone is the day of my father’s coming home,
Nor yet would I trust a message if from anywhere any should come.
Nor would I heed foretelling if perchance my mother should bring
Some wizard unto the homestead to ask him of the thing.
But as for my guest, e’en Mentes he gave himself out for to be,
The wise Anchialus’ son, from Taphos of the sea;
And he lordeth it over the Taphians the lovers of the oar.”
So spake he; but certain knowledge of the Deathless Goddess he bore.
But they, they gat to the dance, and the lovesome song’s delight,
And there they abode in joyance the coming on of night;
And as they rejoiced and were merry, was the dark night on them come,
And they went each one to his place to slumber and sleep at home.
But Telemachus went to his chamber high-built in a far-looking stead,
Of the house exceeding beauteous, and there he came to his bed,
While many things in his mind was he heedfully turning o’er.
But the burning brand for his lighting a trusty woman bore,
Euryclea, daughter of Ops, that was Pisenor’s seed;
But her with his wealth and his treasure had Laertes bought indeed
In the very bloom of her youth, and twenty beeves was her price;
And he honoured her in the house as his wife the prudent and wise.
But abed he lay not with her, for the wrath of his wife did he fear.
So she bore the brands a-flaming, and of all the handmaids there
She loved him the most, and had nursed him while yet but a babe was he.
So he opened the door of the chamber wrought well and heedfully,
And sat him down on the bed, and put off his dainty weed
And gave it unto the goodwife, to the hands of the heedful of rede:
And she folded up the garment and smoothed it out with cire,
And hung it up on a pin by the jointed bedstead fair.
Then forth from the chamber she wended, and the door the’eof pulled to
By the handle-ring of silver, and the bolt with a thong she drew.
There night long well enfolded in the flower of the fleece he lay
And pondered the word of Athene and the Goddess-bidden way.
BOOK II.
ARGUMENT.
THE MEETING OF FOLK IN ITHACA I THE MASTERFUL AND PROUD WORDS
OF THE WOOERS. ZEUS SENDS A TOKEN. TELEMACHUS TAKES SHIP
FOR PYLOS.
NOW when the Mother of Daydawn, the Ruddy-fingered, shone,
From the bed he gat him straightway, Odysseus’ well-loved son.
He clad him, and over his shoulders the sword he cast around,
And under his sleek-skinned feet the sandals fair he bound.
And forth he went from the chamber and e’en as a God was he made.
But therewithal the henchmen, the shrilly-voiced, he bade
The long haired lords Achaean to the meeting-place to cry;
And the cry went forth, and the people came thronging speedily.
But when they were gathered and thronging, to the Meeting did he fare,
And as he went, in his right hand he held a brazen spear.
Nor went he alone, for behind him two swift hounds followed his feet,
And great measure of grace and glory did Athene to him mete.
So there as he sat amongst them all folk beheld his face,
And he sat in his father’s high-seat, for the elders gave him place.
But first the lord ^Egyptius the speech to the folk upheld;
Of ten thousand things was he learned, and sore was he bowed with eld.
But his son the well-beloved, with Odysseus gone had he
Unto Ilios nurse of horses in the hollow ships of the sea:
He was Antiphus the warfain: the wild Cyclops slew him outright,
In the hollow place of the mountain, for his latest supper dight.
There were three more sons of the elder; one went in the Wooers’ band,
Eurynomus men called him; but two laboured their father’s land
Yet the lost he forgat in nowise, but mourned and lamented him sore;
And for him e’en now was he weeping as these words to the folk he upbore:
“O men of Ithaca, hearken to the words that I shall say:
Our Meeting hath not been holden, nor our sitting since the day
When forth in the hollow ships did the great Odysseus speed.
And who now hath summoned us thuswise? on whom hath fallen such need,
Whether he be of the younglings or of those who are elder of days?
Hath he perchance heard tidings of the war-host wending its ways,
Whereof he may speak to us clearly, since first to his ears it came?
Or what else to all folk common hath he got to tell out and proclaim?
But good unto me he seemeth; fair fall his luck from henceforth!
May Zeus to a good end bring it, the thing that he deemeth of worth!”
So he spake: the loved son of Odysseus of his words’ betokening was fain.
And he sat but a little longer, for he yearned the speech to gain.
So he stood amidst of the Meeting, and took the staff in his hand;
Henchman Pisenor gave it, for due things did he understand.
So he to the elder turned him and these words withal he said:
“Old man, he is nowise afar that this gathering of people hath made,
And soon shalt thou know him thyself; for to me is the great grief come,
Though neither have I heard tidings of the war-host wending home,
Nor yet may I speak it out clearly, as the first that hath heard of its fame:
Nor aught else to all folk common have I got to tell out and proclaim;
Bui on me myself is the need; in my house is the evil thing,
Twofold: I have lost my father, a great man, whiles the king
Of us here gathered together; and fatherly mild was his sway.
But behind lies a harm far greater, which will hurry us all to decay,
And break up house and home, and waste all the store of my life.
For Wooers are hard on my mother, and she loth, to be lady and wife.
And these are the sons beloved of the noblest men that are here.
To the house of her father Icarius they durst not draw anear,
That he may give his daughter and the wedding gift receive,
And may give her to whom he willeth and the man to him most lieve;
But now are they hanging about my homestead day by day,
And there my sheep and my oxen and my fatted goats they slay,
And feast in wanton riot as they drink the gleaming wine.
And huge is the wrack and the wasting; for in that house of mine
Is none such as was Odysseus the house from wrack to defend:
And at least nought such am I: yea, belike to the very end
I shall be but a pitiful warrior, and no crafty man in fight.
Yet indeed from this I would ward me, if I had but craft and might:
For we bear, but may bear it no longer, for now without glory or fame
My house and my home is falling; but ye, on yourselves take blame,
And have shamefast heed of others, the men that neighbours be,
That dwell about and around us; and the wrath of the Gods fear ye,
Lest at last they turn upon you in wrath at your evil deeds.
But I pray you by Zeus of Olympus, and by Themis’ head who heeds
The meetings of all men-folk to gather or let go,
Refrain your hands, and leave me to waste alone in my woe.
Unless it be that my father Odysseus the glorious one,
Hath grudged ‘gainst the well-greaved Achaeans, and some evil to them done:
Then grudge against me, and avenge you, and wreak me evil amain,
And be egging on these Wasters! But more would be my gain
If all ye yourselves would be wasting my treasure and my fee.
For if ye to its eating betake you, then speedy atonement should be,
For we through the town would be wending and hugging the word of our lack,
And still for our goods beseeching, till all should be given aback,
But now a bootless grievance on my heart and my soul ye thrust”
So spake he full of anger, and threw down the staff in the dust, So
And broke out into weeping, and the whole folk pitied him there,
And all others sat in silence, neither did any dare
To speak hard words to the youngling, nor any answer they made;
None save Antinoiis only, who thuswise answered and said:
“High spoken, unbridled of mood! Telemachus, what dost thou say
To bring us to shame among men, and the scorn on our heads to lay!
But for these Achaean Wooers, herein thou shalt blame them not;
But rather thy mother beloved who of many a wile doth wot:
Three years have worn away, and the fourth is now on the road,
While the hearts of all the Achaeans with trouble she doth load.
Fair hope unto all she giveth, and promiseth every one,
And many a message she sendeth, while her heart doth otherwise run;
And another wile she pondered, that her heart was bringing to birth.
Within the house of her homestead hath she dight her a warp of worth,
Fine and far-reaching of measure, and thus unto us hath she said:
‘O younglings, O wooers of mine, since the goodly Odysseus is dead,
Withhold you from urging my wedding till this web to an end I have brought,
Lest the yarn have been spun in vain and perish and come to nought
