Scroll 20
Odysseus slept in the room upon an
undressed bullock's hide, on the top of which he threw several
skins of the sheep the suitors had eaten, and Eurynome threw a cloak
over him after he had laid himself down. There, then, Odysseus lay
wakefully brooding upon the way in which he should kill the suitors;
and by and by, the women who had been in the habit of misconducting
themselves with them, left the house giggling and laughing with one
another. This made Odysseus very angry, and he doubted whether to get
up and kill every single one of them then and there, or to let them
sleep one more and last time with the suitors. His heart growled
within him, and as a bitch with puppies growls and shows her teeth
when she sees a stranger, so did his heart growl with anger at the
evil deeds that were being done: but he beat his breast and said,
"Heart, be still, you had worse than this to bear on the day when the
terrible
Cyclops ate your brave companions; yet you bore it in
silence till your cunning got you safe out of the cave, though you
made sure of being killed."
Thus he chided with his heart, and
checked it into endurance, but he tossed about as one who turns a
paunch full of blood and fat in front of a hot fire, doing it first
on one side and then on the other, that he may get it cooked as soon
as possible, even so did he turn himself about from side to side,
thinking all the time how, single handed as he was, he should
contrive to kill so large a body of men as the wicked suitors. But by
and by Athena came down from heaven in the likeness of a woman, and
hovered over his head saying, "My poor unhappy man, why do you lie
awake in this way? This is your house: your wife is safe inside it,
and so is your son who is just such a young man as any father may be
proud of."
"Goddess," answered Odysseus, "all
that you have said is true, but I am in some doubt as to how I shall
be able to kill these wicked suitors single handed, seeing what a
number of them there always are. And there is this further
difficulty, which is still more considerable. Supposing that with
Zeus’ and your assistance I succeed in killing them, I must ask
you to consider where I am to escape to from their avengers when it
is all over."
"For shame," replied Athena, "why,
any one else would trust a worse ally than myself, even though that
ally were only a mortal and less wise than I am. Am I not a goddess,
and have I not protected you throughout in all your ordeals
[ponos]? I tell you plainly that even though there
were fifty bands of men surrounding us and eager to kill us, you
should take all their sheep and cattle, and drive them away with you.
But go to sleep; it is a very bad thing to lie awake all night, and
you shall be out of your troubles before long."
As she spoke she shed sleep over
his eyes, and then went back to
Olympus.
While Odysseus was thus yielding
himself to a very deep slumber that eased the burden of his sorrows,
his admirable wife awoke, and sitting up in her bed began to cry.
When she had relieved herself by weeping she prayed to Artemis
saying, "Great Goddess Artemis, daughter of Zeus, drive an arrow into
my heart and slay me; or let some whirlwind snatch me up and bear me
through paths of darkness till it drop me into the mouths of
overflowing Okeanos, as it did the daughters of Pandareus. The
daughters of Pandareus lost their father and mother, for the gods
killed them, so they were left orphans. But Aphrodite took care of
them, and fed them on cheese, honey, and sweet wine. Hera taught them
to excel all women in beauty of form and understanding; Artemis gave
them an imposing presence, and Athena endowed them with every kind of
accomplishment; but one day when Aphrodite had gone up to
Olympus to
see Zeus about getting them married (for well does he know both what
shall happen and what not happen to every one) the storm winds came
and spirited them away to become handmaids to the dread Erinyes. Even
so I wish that the gods who live in heaven would hide me from mortal
sight, or that fair Artemis might strike me, for I would fain go even
beneath the sad earth if I might do so still looking towards Odysseus
only, and without having to yield myself to a worse man than he was.
Besides, no matter how many people may grieve by day, they can put up
with it so long as they can sleep at night, for when the eyes are
closed in slumber people forget good and ill alike; whereas my
miserable daimôn haunts me even in my dreams. This very
night I thought there was one lying by my side who was like Odysseus
as he was when he went away with his host, and I rejoiced, for I
believed that it was no dream, but the very truth itself."
On this the day broke, but
Odysseus heard the sound of her weeping, and it puzzled him, for it
seemed as though she already knew him and was by his side. Then he
gathered up the cloak and the fleeces on which he had lain, and set
them on a seat in the room, but he took the bullock's hide out
into the open. He lifted up his hands to heaven, and prayed, saying
"Father Zeus, since you have seen fit to bring me over land and sea
to my own home after all the afflictions you have laid upon me, give
me a sign out of the mouth of some one or other of those who are now
waking within the house, and let me have another sign of some kind
from outside."
Thus did he pray. Zeus heard his
prayer and forthwith thundered high up among the from the splendor of
Olympus, and Odysseus was glad when he heard it. At the same time
within the house, a miller-woman from hard by in the mill room lifted
up her voice and gave him another sign. There were twelve
miller-women whose business it was to grind wheat and barley which
are the staff of life. The others had ground their task and had gone
to take their rest, but this one had not yet finished, for she was
not so strong as they were, and when she heard the thunder she
stopped grinding and gave the sign [sêma] to her
master. "Father Zeus," said she, "you who rule over heaven and earth,
you have thundered from a clear sky without so much as a cloud in it,
and this means something for somebody; answer the prayer, then, of me
your poor servant who calls upon you, and let this be the very last
day that the suitors dine in the house of Odysseus. They have worn me
out with the labor of grinding meal for them, and I hope they may
never have another dinner anywhere at all."
Odysseus was glad when he heard
the omens conveyed to him by the woman's speech, and by the
thunder, for he knew they meant that he should avenge himself on the
suitors.
Then the other maids in the house
rose and lit the fire on the hearth; Telemakhos also rose and put on
his clothes. He girded his sword about his shoulder, bound his
sandals on his comely feet, and took a doughty spear with a point of
sharpened bronze; then he went to the threshold of the room and said
to Eurykleia, "Nurse, did you make the stranger comfortable both as
regards bed and board, or did you let him shift for himself? - for my
mother, good woman though she is, has a way of paying great attention
to second-rate people, and of neglecting others who are in reality
much better men."
"Do not find fault, child," said
Eurykleia, "when there is no one to find fault with. The stranger sat
and drank his wine as long as he liked: your mother did ask him if he
would take any more bread and he said he would not. When he wanted to
go to bed she told the servants to make one for him, but he said he
was such a wretched outcast that he would not sleep on a bed and
under blankets; he insisted on having an undressed bullock's
hide and some sheepskins put for him in the room and I threw a cloak
over him myself."
Then Telemakhos went out of the
court to the place where the Achaeans were meeting in assembly; he
had his spear in his hand, and he was not alone, for his two dogs
went with him. But Eurykleia called the maids and said, "Come, wake
up; set about sweeping the cloisters and sprinkling them with water
to lay the dust; put the covers on the seats; wipe down the tables,
some of you, with a wet sponge; clean out the mixing-jugs and the
cups, and for water from the fountain at once; the suitors will be
here directly; they will be here early, for it is a feast
day."
Thus did she speak, and they did
even as she had said: twenty of them went to the fountain for water,
and the others set themselves busily to work about the house. The men
who were in attendance on the suitors also came up and began chopping
firewood. By and by the women returned from the fountain, and the
swineherd came after them with the three best pigs he could pick out.
These he let feed about the premises, and then he said with good
humor to Odysseus, "Stranger, are the suitors treating you any better
now, or are they as insolent as ever?"
"May heaven," answered Odysseus,
"requite to them the wickedness with which they deal high-handedly in
another man's house without any sense of shame
[aidôs]."
Thus did they converse; meanwhile
Melanthios the goatherd came up, for he too was bringing in his best
goats for the suitors’ dinner; and he had two shepherds with
him. They tied the goats up under the gatehouse, and then Melanthios
began gibing at Odysseus. "Are you still here, stranger," said he,
"to pester people by begging about the house? Why can you not go
elsewhere? You and I shall not come to an understanding before we
have given each other a taste of our fists. You beg without any sense
of decency [kosmos]: are there not feasts elsewhere
among the Achaeans, as well as here?"
Odysseus made no answer, but
bowed his head and brooded. Then a third man, Philoitios, joined
them, who was bringing in a barren heifer and some goats. These were
brought over by the boatmen who are there to take people over when
any one comes to them. So Philoitios made his heifer and his goats
secure under the gatehouse, and then went up to the swineherd. "Who,
Swineherd," said he, "is this stranger that is lately come here? Is
he one of your men? What is his family? Where does he come from? Poor
fellow, he looks as if he had been some great man, but the gods give
sorrow to whom they will - even to kings if it so pleases
them
As he spoke he went up to
Odysseus and saluted him with his right hand; "Good day to you,
father stranger," said he, "you seem to be very poorly off now, but I
hope you will have better times [olbos] by and by.
Father Zeus, of all gods you are the most malicious. We are your own
children, yet you show us no mercy in all our misery and afflictions.
A sweat came over me when I saw this man, and my eyes filled with
tears, for he reminds me of Odysseus, who I fear is going about in
just such rags as this man's are, if indeed he is still among
the living. If he is already dead and in the house of Hades, then,
alas! for my good master, who made me his stockman when I was quite
young in the dêmos of the Cephallênians, and now
his cattle are countless; no one could have done better with them
than I have, for they have bred like ears of wheat; nevertheless I
have to keep bringing them in for others to eat, who take no heed of
his son though he is in the house, and fear not the wrath of heaven,
but are already eager to divide Odysseus’ property among them
because he has been away so long. I have often thought - only it
would not be right while his son is living - of going off with the
cattle to some foreign dêmos; bad as this would be, it
is still harder to stay here and be ill-treated about other
people's herds. My position is intolerable, and I should long
since have run away and put myself under the protection of some other
chief, only that I believe my poor master will yet return, and send
all these suitors fleeing out of the house."
"Stockman," answered Odysseus,
"you seem to be a very well-disposed person, and I can see that you
are a man of sense. Therefore I will tell you, and will confirm my
words with an oath: by Zeus, the chief of all gods, and by that
hearth of Odysseus to which I am now come, Odysseus shall return
before you leave this place, and if you are so minded you shall see
him killing the suitors who are now masters here."
"If Zeus were to bring this to
pass," replied the stockman, "you should see how I would do my very
utmost to help him."
And in like manner Eumaios prayed
that Odysseus might return home.
Thus did they converse. Meanwhile
the suitors were hatching a plot to murder Telemakhos: but a bird
flew near them on their left hand - an eagle with a dove in its
talons. On this Amphinomos said, "My friends, this plot of ours to
murder Telemakhos will not succeed; let us go to dinner
instead."
The others assented, so they went
inside and laid their cloaks on the benches and seats. They
sacrificed the sheep, goats, pigs, and the heifer, and when the
inward meats were cooked they served them round. They mixed the wine
in the mixing-bowls, and the swineherd gave every man his cup, while
Philoitios handed round the bread in the breadbaskets, and Melanthios
poured them out their wine. Then they laid their hands upon the good
things that were before them.
Telemakhos deliberately
[kerdos] made Odysseus sit in the part of the room
that was paved with stone; he gave him a shabby-looking seat at a
little table to himself, and had his portion of the inward meats
brought to him, with his wine in a gold cup. "Sit there," said he,
"and drink your wine among the great people. I will put a stop to the
gibes and blows of the suitors, for this is no public house, but
belongs to Odysseus, and has passed from him to me. Therefore,
suitors, keep your hands and your tongues to yourselves, or there
will be trouble."
The suitors bit their lips, and
marveled at the boldness of his speech; then Antinoos said, "We do
not like such language but we will put up with it, for Telemakhos is
threatening us in good earnest. If Zeus had let us we should have put
a stop to his brave talk ere now."
Thus spoke Antinoos, but
Telemakhos heeded him not. Meanwhile the heralds were bringing the
holy hecatomb through the city, and the Achaeans gathered under the
shady grove of Apollo.
Then they roasted the outer meat,
drew it off the spits, gave every man his portion, and feasted to
their hearts’ content; those who waited at table gave Odysseus
exactly the same portion as the others had, for Telemakhos had told
them to do so.
But Athena would not let the
suitors for one moment drop their insolence, for she wanted Odysseus
to become still more bitter [akhos] against them. Now
there happened to be among them a ribald fellow, whose name was
Ktesippos, and who came from Same. This man, confident in his great
wealth, was paying court to the wife of Odysseus, and said to the
suitors, "Hear what I have to say. The stranger has already had as
large a portion as any one else; this is well, for it is not right
nor reasonable [dikaios] to ill-treat any guest of
Telemakhos who comes here. I will, however, make him a present on my
own account, that he may have something to give to the bath-woman, or
to some other of Odysseus’ servants."
As he spoke he picked up a
heifer's foot from the meat-basket in which it lay, and threw it
at Odysseus, but Odysseus turned his head a little aside, and avoided
it, smiling sardonically as he did so, and it hit the wall, not him.
On this Telemakhos spoke fiercely to Ktesippos, "It is a good thing
for you," said he, "that the stranger turned his head so that you
missed him. If you had hit him I should have run you through with my
spear, and your father would have had to see about getting you buried
rather than married in this house. So let me have no more unseemly
behavior from any of you, for I am grown up now to the knowledge of
good and evil and understand what is going on, instead of being the
child that I have been heretofore. I have long seen you killing my
sheep and making free with my grain and wine: I have put up with
this, for one man is no match for many, but do me no further
violence. Still, if you wish to kill me, kill me; I would far rather
die than see such disgraceful scenes day after day - guests insulted,
and men dragging the women servants about the house in an unseemly
way."
They all held their peace till at
last Agelaos son of Damastor said, "No one should take offense at
what has just been said, nor gainsay it, for it is quite reasonable
[dikaios]. Leave off, therefore, ill-treating the
stranger, or any one else of the servants who are about the house; I
would say, however, a friendly word to Telemakhos and his mother,
which I trust may commend itself to both. ‘As long,’ I
would say, ‘as you had ground for hoping that Odysseus would one
day come home, there will be no nemesis as a result of your
waiting and suffering the suitors to be in your house. It would have
been better that he should have returned, but it is now sufficiently
clear that he will never do so; therefore talk all this quietly over
with your mother, and tell her to marry the best man, and the one who
makes her the most advantageous offer. Thus you will yourself be able
to manage your own inheritance, and to eat and drink in peace, while
your mother will look after some other man's house, not
yours."’
To this Telemakhos answered, "By
Zeus, Agelaos, and by the sorrows of my unhappy father, who has
either perished far from
Ithaca, or is wandering in some distant
land, I throw no obstacles in the way of my mother's marriage;
on the contrary I urge her to choose whomsoever she will, and I will
give her numberless gifts into the bargain, but I dare not insist
point blank that she shall leave the house against her own wishes.
Heaven forbid that I should do this."
Athena now made the suitors fall
to laughing immoderately, and set their wits wandering; but they were
laughing with a forced laughter. Their meat became smeared with
blood; their eyes filled with tears, and their hearts were heavy with
forebodings. Theoklymenos saw this and said, "Unhappy men, what is it
that ails you? There is a shroud of darkness drawn over you from head
to foot, your cheeks are wet with tears; the air is alive with
wailing voices; the walls and roof-beams drip blood; the gate of the
cloisters and the court beyond them are full of ghosts trooping down
into the night of Hades; the sun is blotted out of heaven, and a
blighting gloom is over all the land."
Thus did he speak, and they all
of them laughed heartily. Eurymakhos then said, "This stranger who
has lately come here has lost his senses. Servants, turn him out into
the streets, since he finds it so dark here."
But Theoklymenos said,
"Eurymakhos, you need not send any one with me. I have eyes, ears,
and a pair of feet of my own, to say nothing of an understanding mind
[noos]. I will take these out of the house with me,
for I see mischief overhanging you, from which not one of you men who
are insulting people and plotting ill deeds in the house of Odysseus
will be able to escape."
He left the house as he spoke,
and went back to Peiraios who gave him welcome, but the suitors kept
looking at one another and provoking Telemakhos by laughing at the
strangers. One insolent fellow said to him, "Telemakhos, you are not
happy in your guests; first you have this importunate tramp, who
comes begging bread and wine and has no skill for work or for hard
fighting [biê], but is perfectly useless, and
now here is another fellow who is setting himself up as a seer. Let
me persuade you, for it will be much better, to put them on board
ship and send them off to the Sicels to sell for what they will
bring."
Telemakhos gave him no heed, but
sat silently watching his father, expecting every moment that he
would begin his attack upon the suitors.
Meanwhile the daughter of
Ikarios, wise Penelope, had had a rich seat placed for her facing the
court and cloisters, so that she could hear what every one was
saying. The dinner indeed had been prepared amid merriment; it had
been both good and abundant, for they had sacrificed many victims;
but the supper was yet to come, and nothing can be conceived more
gruesome than the meal which a goddess and a brave man were soon to
lay before them - for they had brought their doom upon themselves.