The Odyssey - 14

when they heard the war cry, the people came out at daybreak till the
plain was filled with horsemen and foot soldiers and with the gleam of
armour. Then Jove spread panic among my men, and they would no longer
face the enemy, for they found themselves surrounded. The Egyptians
killed many of us, and took the rest alive to do forced labour for
them. Jove, however, put it in my mind to do thus—and I wish I had died
then and there in Egypt instead, for there was much sorrow in store for
me—I took off my helmet and shield and dropped my spear from my hand;
then I went straight up to the king’s chariot, clasped his knees and
kissed them, whereon he spared my life, bade me get into his chariot,
and took me weeping to his own home. Many made at me with their ashen
spears and tried to kill me in their fury, but the king protected me,
for he feared the wrath of Jove the protector of strangers, who
punishes those who do evil.
“I stayed there for seven years and got together much money among the
Egyptians, for they all gave me something; but when it was now going on
for eight years there came a certain Phoenician, a cunning rascal, who
had already committed all sorts of villainy, and this man talked me
over into going with him to Phoenicia, where his house and his
possessions lay. I stayed there for a whole twelve months, but at the
end of that time when months and days had gone by till the same season
had come round again, he set me on board a ship bound for Libya, on a
pretence that I was to take a cargo along with him to that place, but
really that he might sell me as a slave and take the money I fetched. I
suspected his intention, but went on board with him, for I could not
help it.
“The ship ran before a fresh North wind till we had reached the sea
that lies between Crete and Libya; there, however, Jove counselled
their destruction, for as soon as we were well out from Crete and could
see nothing but sea and sky, he raised a black cloud over our ship and
the sea grew dark beneath it. Then Jove let fly with his thunderbolts
and the ship went round and round and was filled with fire and
brimstone as the lightning struck it. The men fell all into the sea;
they were carried about in the water round the ship looking like so
many sea-gulls, but the god presently deprived them of all chance of
getting home again. I was all dismayed. Jove, however, sent the ship’s
mast within my reach, which saved my life, for I clung to it, and
drifted before the fury of the gale. Nine days did I drift but in the
darkness of the tenth night a great wave bore me on to the Thesprotian
coast. There Pheidon king of the Thesprotians entertained me hospitably
without charging me anything at all—for his son found me when I was
nearly dead with cold and fatigue, whereon he raised me by the hand,
took me to his father’s house and gave me clothes to wear.
“There it was that I heard news of Ulysses, for the king told me he had
entertained him, and shown him much hospitality while he was on his
homeward journey. He showed me also the treasure of gold, and wrought
iron that Ulysses had got together. There was enough to keep his family
for ten generations, so much had he left in the house of king Pheidon.
But the king said Ulysses had gone to Dodona that he might learn Jove’s
mind from the god’s high oak tree, and know whether after so long an
absence he should return to Ithaca openly, or in secret. Moreover the
king swore in my presence, making drink-offerings in his own house as
he did so, that the ship was by the water side, and the crew found,
that should take him to his own country. He sent me off however before
Ulysses returned, for there happened to be a Thesprotian ship sailing
for the wheat-growing island of Dulichium, and he told those in charge
of her to be sure and take me safely to King Acastus.
“These men hatched a plot against me that would have reduced me to the
very extreme of misery, for when the ship had got some way out from
land they resolved on selling me as a slave. They stripped me of the
shirt and cloak that I was wearing, and gave me instead the tattered
old clouts in which you now see me; then, towards nightfall, they
reached the tilled lands of Ithaca, and there they bound me with a
strong rope fast in the ship, while they went on shore to get supper by
the sea side. But the gods soon undid my bonds for me, and having drawn
my rags over my head I slid down the rudder into the sea, where I
struck out and swam till I was well clear of them, and came ashore near
a thick wood in which I lay concealed. They were very angry at my
having escaped and went searching about for me, till at last they
thought it was no further use and went back to their ship. The gods,
having hidden me thus easily, then took me to a good man’s door—for it
seems that I am not to die yet awhile.”
To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Poor unhappy stranger, I
have found the story of your misfortunes extremely interesting, but
that part about Ulysses is not right; and you will never get me to
believe it. Why should a man like you go about telling lies in this
way? I know all about the return of my master. The gods one and all of
them detest him, or they would have taken him before Troy, or let him
die with friends around him when the days of his fighting were done;
for then the Achaeans would have built a mound over his ashes and his
son would have been heir to his renown, but now the storm winds have
spirited him away we know not whither.
“As for me I live out of the way here with the pigs, and never go to
the town unless when Penelope sends for me on the arrival of some news
about Ulysses. Then they all sit round and ask questions, both those
who grieve over the king’s absence, and those who rejoice at it because
they can eat up his property without paying for it. For my own part I
have never cared about asking anyone else since the time when I was
taken in by an Aetolian, who had killed a man and come a long way till
at last he reached my station, and I was very kind to him. He said he
had seen Ulysses with Idomeneus among the Cretans, refitting his ships
which had been damaged in a gale. He said Ulysses would return in the
following summer or autumn with his men, and that he would bring back
much wealth. And now you, you unfortunate old man, since fate has
brought you to my door, do not try to flatter me in this way with vain
hopes. It is not for any such reason that I shall treat you kindly, but
only out of respect for Jove the god of hospitality, as fearing him and
pitying you.”
Ulysses answered, “I see that you are of an unbelieving mind; I have
given you my oath, and yet you will not credit me; let us then make a
bargain, and call all the gods in heaven to witness it. If your master
comes home, give me a cloak and shirt of good wear, and send me to
Dulichium where I want to go; but if he does not come as I say he will,
set your men on to me, and tell them to throw me from yonder precipice,
as a warning to tramps not to go about the country telling lies.”
“And a pretty figure I should cut then,” replied Eumaeus, “both now and
hereafter, if I were to kill you after receiving you into my hut and
showing you hospitality. I should have to say my prayers in good
earnest if I did; but it is just supper time and I hope my men will
come in directly, that we may cook something savoury for supper.”
Thus did they converse, and presently the swineherds came up with the
pigs, which were then shut up for the night in their styes, and a
tremendous squealing they made as they were being driven into them. But
Eumaeus called to his men and said, “Bring in the best pig you have,
that I may sacrifice him for this stranger, and we will take toll of
him ourselves. We have had trouble enough this long time feeding pigs,
while others reap the fruit of our labour.”
On this he began chopping firewood, while the others brought in a fine
fat five year old boar pig, and set it at the altar. Eumaeus did not
forget the gods, for he was a man of good principles, so the first
thing he did was to cut bristles from the pig’s face and throw them
into the fire, praying to all the gods as he did so that Ulysses might
return home again. Then he clubbed the pig with a billet of oak which
he had kept back when he was chopping the firewood, and stunned it,
while the others slaughtered and singed it. Then they cut it up, and
Eumaeus began by putting raw pieces from each joint on to some of the
fat; these he sprinkled with barley meal, and laid upon the embers;
they cut the rest of the meat up small, put the pieces upon the spits
and roasted them till they were done; when they had taken them off the
spits they threw them on to the dresser in a heap. The swineherd, who
was a most equitable man, then stood up to give every one his share. He
made seven portions; one of these he set apart for Mercury the son of
Maia and the nymphs, praying to them as he did so; the others he dealt
out to the men man by man. He gave Ulysses some slices cut lengthways
down the loin as a mark of especial honour, and Ulysses was much
pleased. “I hope, Eumaeus,” said he, “that Jove will be as well
disposed towards you as I am, for the respect you are showing to an
outcast like myself.”
To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Eat, my good fellow, and
enjoy your supper, such as it is. God grants this, and withholds that,
just as he thinks right, for he can do whatever he chooses.”
As he spoke he cut off the first piece and offered it as a burnt
sacrifice to the immortal gods; then he made them a drink-offering, put
the cup in the hands of Ulysses, and sat down to his own portion.
Mesaulius brought them their bread; the swineherd had brought this man
on his own account from among the Taphians during his master’s absence,
and had paid for him with his own money without saying anything either
to his mistress or Laertes. They then laid their hands upon the good
things that were before them, and when they had had enough to eat and
drink, Mesaulius took away what was left of the bread, and they all
went to bed after having made a hearty supper.
Now the night came on stormy and very dark, for there was no moon. It
poured without ceasing, and the wind blew strong from the West, which
is a wet quarter, so Ulysses thought he would see whether Eumaeus, in
the excellent care he took of him, would take off his own cloak and
give it him, or make one of his men give him one. “Listen to me,” said
he, “Eumaeus and the rest of you; when I have said a prayer I will tell
you something. It is the wine that makes me talk in this way; wine will
make even a wise man fall to singing; it will make him chuckle and
dance and say many a word that he had better leave unspoken; still, as
I have begun, I will go on. Would that I were still young and strong as
when we got up an ambuscade before Troy. Menelaus and Ulysses were the
leaders, but I was in command also, for the other two would have it so.
When we had come up to the wall of the city we crouched down beneath
our armour and lay there under cover of the reeds and thick brushwood
that grew about the swamp. It came on to freeze with a North wind
blowing; the snow fell small and fine like hoar frost, and our shields
were coated thick with rime. The others had all got cloaks and shirts,
and slept comfortably enough with their shields about their shoulders,
but I had carelessly left my cloak behind me, not thinking that I
should be too cold, and had gone off in nothing but my shirt and
shield. When the night was two-thirds through and the stars had shifted
their places, I nudged Ulysses who was close to me with my elbow, and
he at once gave me his ear.
“‘Ulysses,’ said I, ‘this cold will be the death of me, for I have no
cloak; some god fooled me into setting off with nothing on but my
shirt, and I do not know what to do.’
“Ulysses, who was as crafty as he was valiant, hit upon the following
plan:
“‘Keep still,’ said he in a low voice, ‘or the others will hear you.’
Then he raised his head on his elbow.
“‘My friends,’ said he, ‘I have had a dream from heaven in my sleep. We
are a long way from the ships; I wish some one would go down and tell
Agamemnon to send us up more men at once.’
“On this Thoas son of Andraemon threw off his cloak and set out running
to the ships, whereon I took the cloak and lay in it comfortably enough
till morning. Would that I were still young and strong as I was in
those days, for then some one of you swineherds would give me a cloak
both out of good will and for the respect due to a brave soldier; but
now people look down upon me because my clothes are shabby.”
And Eumaeus answered, “Old man, you have told us an excellent story,
and have said nothing so far but what is quite satisfactory; for the
present, therefore, you shall want neither clothing nor anything else
that a stranger in distress may reasonably expect, but to-morrow
morning you have to shake your own old rags about your body again, for
we have not many spare cloaks nor shirts up here, but every man has
only one. When Ulysses’ son comes home again he will give you both
cloak and shirt, and send you wherever you may want to go.”
With this he got up and made a bed for Ulysses by throwing some
goatskins and sheepskins on the ground in front of the fire. Here
Ulysses lay down, and Eumaeus covered him over with a great heavy cloak
that he kept for a change in case of extraordinarily bad weather.
Thus did Ulysses sleep, and the young men slept beside him. But the
swineherd did not like sleeping away from his pigs, so he got ready to
go outside, and Ulysses was glad to see that he looked after his
property during his master’s absence. First he slung his sword over his
brawny shoulders and put on a thick cloak to keep out the wind. He also
took the skin of a large and well fed goat, and a javelin in case of
attack from men or dogs. Thus equipped he went to his rest where the
pigs were camping under an overhanging rock that gave them shelter from
the North wind.


BOOK XV

MINERVA SUMMONS TELEMACHUS FROM LACEDAEMON—HE MEETS WITH THEOCLYMENUS
AT PYLOS AND BRINGS HIM TO ITHACA—ON LANDING HE GOES TO THE HUT OF
EUMAEUS.

But Minerva went to the fair city of Lacedaemon to tell Ulysses’ son
that he was to return at once. She found him and Pisistratus sleeping
in the forecourt of Menelaus’s house; Pisistratus was fast asleep, but
Telemachus could get no rest all night for thinking of his unhappy
father, so Minerva went close up to him and said:
“Telemachus, you should not remain so far away from home any longer,
nor leave your property with such dangerous people in your house; they
will eat up everything you have among them, and you will have been on a
fool’s errand. Ask Menelaus to send you home at once if you wish to
find your excellent mother still there when you get back. Her father
and brothers are already urging her to marry Eurymachus, who has given
her more than any of the others, and has been greatly increasing his
wedding presents. I hope nothing valuable may have been taken from the
house in spite of you, but you know what women are—they always want to
do the best they can for the man who marries them, and never give
another thought to the children of their first husband, nor to their
father either when he is dead and done with. Go home, therefore, and
put everything in charge of the most respectable woman servant that you
have, until it shall please heaven to send you a wife of your own. Let
me tell you also of another matter which you had better attend to. The
chief men among the suitors are lying in wait for you in the Strait128
between Ithaca and Samos, and they mean to kill you before you can
reach home. I do not much think they will succeed; it is more likely
that some of those who are now eating up your property will find a
grave themselves. Sail night and day, and keep your ship well away from
the islands; the god who watches over you and protects you will send
you a fair wind. As soon as you get to Ithaca send your ship and men on
to the town, but yourself go straight to the swineherd who has charge
of your pigs; he is well disposed towards you, stay with him,
therefore, for the night, and then send him to Penelope to tell her
that you have got back safe from Pylos.”
Then she went back to Olympus; but Telemachus stirred Pisistratus with
his heel to rouse him, and said, “Wake up Pisistratus, and yoke the
horses to the chariot, for we must set off home.”129
But Pisistratus said, “No matter what hurry we are in we cannot drive
in the dark. It will be morning soon; wait till Menelaus has brought
his presents and put them in the chariot for us; and let him say good
bye to us in the usual way. So long as he lives a guest should never
forget a host who has shown him kindness.”
As he spoke day began to break, and Menelaus, who had already risen,
leaving Helen in bed, came towards them. When Telemachus saw him he put
on his shirt as fast as he could, threw a great cloak over his
shoulders, and went out to meet him. “Menelaus,” said he, “let me go
back now to my own country, for I want to get home.”
And Menelaus answered, “Telemachus, if you insist on going I will not
detain you. I do not like to see a host either too fond of his guest or
too rude to him. Moderation is best in all things, and not letting a
man go when he wants to do so is as bad as telling him to go if he
would like to stay. One should treat a guest well as long as he is in
the house and speed him when he wants to leave it. Wait, then, till I
can get your beautiful presents into your chariot, and till you have
yourself seen them. I will tell the women to prepare a sufficient
dinner for you of what there may be in the house; it will be at once
more proper and cheaper for you to get your dinner before setting out
on such a long journey. If, moreover, you have a fancy for making a
tour in Hellas or in the Peloponnese, I will yoke my horses, and will
conduct you myself through all our principal cities. No one will send
us away empty handed; every one will give us something—a bronze tripod,
a couple of mules, or a gold cup.”
“Menelaus,” replied Telemachus, “I want to go home at once, for when I
came away I left my property without protection, and fear that while
looking for my father I shall come to ruin myself, or find that
something valuable has been stolen during my absence.”
When Menelaus heard this he immediately told his wife and servants to
prepare a sufficient dinner from what there might be in the house. At
this moment Eteoneus joined him, for he lived close by and had just got
up; so Menelaus told him to light the fire and cook some meat, which he
at once did. Then Menelaus went down into his fragrant store room,130
not alone, but Helen went too, with Megapenthes. When he reached the
place where the treasures of his house were kept, he selected a double
cup, and told his son Megapenthes to bring also a silver mixing bowl.
Meanwhile Helen went to the chest where she kept the lovely dresses
which she had made with her own hands, and took out one that was
largest and most beautifully enriched with embroidery; it glittered
like a star, and lay at the very bottom of the chest. 131 Then they all
came back through the house again till they got to Telemachus, and
Menelaus said, “Telemachus, may Jove, the mighty husband of Juno, bring
you safely home according to your desire. I will now present you with
the finest and most precious piece of plate in all my house. It is a
mixing bowl of pure silver, except the rim, which is inlaid with gold,
and it is the work of Vulcan. Phaedimus king of the Sidonians made me a
present of it in the course of a visit that I paid him while I was on
my return home. I should like to give it to you.”
With these words he placed the double cup in the hands of Telemachus,
while Megapenthes brought the beautiful mixing bowl and set it before
him. Hard by stood lovely Helen with the robe ready in her hand.
“I too, my son,” said she, “have something for you as a keepsake from
the hand of Helen; it is for your bride to wear upon her wedding day.
Till then, get your dear mother to keep it for you; thus may you go
back rejoicing to your own country and to your home.”
So saying she gave the robe over to him and he received it gladly. Then
Pisistratus put the presents into the chariot, and admired them all as
he did so. Presently Menelaus took Telemachus and Pisistratus into the
house, and they both of them sat down to table. A maid servant brought
them water in a beautiful golden ewer, and poured it into a silver
basin for them to wash their hands, and she drew a clean table beside
them; an upper servant brought them bread and offered them many good
things of what there was in the house. Eteoneus carved the meat and
gave them each their portions, while Megapenthes poured out the wine.
Then they laid their hands upon the good things that were before them,
but as soon as they had had enough to eat and drink Telemachus and
Pisistratus yoked the horses, and took their places in the chariot.
They drove out through the inner gateway and under the echoing
gatehouse of the outer court, and Menelaus came after them with a
golden goblet of wine in his right hand that they might make a
drink-offering before they set out. He stood in front of the horses and
pledged them, saying, “Farewell to both of you; see that you tell
Nestor how I have treated you, for he was as kind to me as any father
could be while we Achaeans were fighting before Troy.”
“We will be sure, sir,” answered Telemachus, “to tell him everything as
soon as we see him. I wish I were as certain of finding Ulysses
returned when I get back to Ithaca, that I might tell him of the very
great kindness you have shown me and of the many beautiful presents I
am taking with me.”
As he was thus speaking a bird flew on his right hand—an eagle with a
great white goose in its talons which it had carried off from the farm
yard—and all the men and women were running after it and shouting. It
came quite close up to them and flew away on their right hands in front
of the horses. When they saw it they were glad, and their hearts took
comfort within them, whereon Pisistratus said, “Tell me, Menelaus, has
heaven sent this omen for us or for you?”
Menelaus was thinking what would be the most proper answer for him to
make, but Helen was too quick for him and said, “I will read this
matter as heaven has put it in my heart, and as I doubt not that it
will come to pass. The eagle came from the mountain where it was bred
and has its nest, and in like manner Ulysses, after having travelled
far and suffered much, will return to take his revenge—if indeed he is
not back already and hatching mischief for the suitors.”
“May Jove so grant it,” replied Telemachus, “if it should prove to be
so, I will make vows to you as though you were a god, even when I am at
home.”
As he spoke he lashed his horses and they started off at full speed
through the town towards the open country. They swayed the yoke upon
their necks and travelled the whole day long till the sun set and
darkness was over all the land. Then they reached Pherae, where Diocles
lived who was son of Ortilochus, the son of Alpheus. There they passed
the night and were treated hospitably. When the child of morning,
rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, they again yoked their horses and their
places in the chariot. They drove out through the inner gateway and
under the echoing gatehouse of the outer court. Then Pisistratus lashed
his horses on and they flew forward nothing loath; ere long they came
to Pylos, and then Telemachus said:
“Pisistratus, I hope you will promise to do what I am going to ask you.
You know our fathers were old friends before us; moreover, we are both
of an age, and this journey has brought us together still more closely;
do not, therefore, take me past my ship, but leave me there, for if I
go to your father’s house he will try to keep me in the warmth of his
good will towards me, and I must go home at once.”
Pisistratus thought how he should do as he was asked, and in the end he
deemed it best to turn his horses towards the ship, and put Menelaus’s
beautiful presents of gold and raiment in the stern of the vessel. Then
he said, “Go on board at once and tell your men to do so also before I
can reach home to tell my father. I know how obstinate he is, and am
sure he will not let you go; he will come down here to fetch you, and
he will not go back without you. But he will be very angry.”
With this he drove his goodly steeds back to the city of the Pylians
and soon reached his home, but Telemachus called the men together and
gave his orders. “Now, my men,” said he, “get everything in order on
board the ship, and let us set out home.”
Thus did he speak, and they went on board even as he had said. But as
Telemachus was thus busied, praying also and sacrificing to Minerva in
the ship’s stern, there came to him a man from a distant country, a
seer, who was flying from Argos because he had killed a man. He was
descended from Melampus, who used to live in Pylos, the land of sheep;
he was rich and owned a great house, but he was driven into exile by
the great and powerful king Neleus. Neleus seized his goods and held
them for a whole year, during which he was a close prisoner in the
house of king Phylacus, and in much distress of mind both on account of
the daughter of Neleus and because he was haunted by a great sorrow
that dread Erinys had laid upon him. In the end, however, he escaped
with his life, drove the cattle from Phylace to Pylos, avenged the
wrong that had been done him, and gave the daughter of Neleus to his
brother. Then he left the country and went to Argos, where it was
ordained that he should reign over much people. There he married,
established himself, and had two famous sons Antiphates and Mantius.
Antiphates became father of Oicleus, and Oicleus of Amphiaraus, who was
dearly loved both by Jove and by Apollo, but he did not live to old
age, for he was killed in Thebes by reason of a woman’s gifts. His sons
were Alcmaeon and Amphilochus. Mantius, the other son of Melampus, was
father to Polypheides and Cleitus. Aurora, throned in gold, carried off
Cleitus for his beauty’s sake, that he might dwell among the immortals,
but Apollo made Polypheides the greatest seer in the whole world now
that Amphiaraus was dead. He quarrelled with his father and went to
live in Hyperesia, where he remained and prophesied for all men.
His son, Theoclymenus, it was who now came up to Telemachus as he was
making drink-offerings and praying in his ship. “Friend,” said he, “now
that I find you sacrificing in this place, I beseech you by your
sacrifices themselves, and by the god to whom you make them, I pray you
also by your own head and by those of your followers tell me the truth
and nothing but the truth. Who and whence are you? Tell me also of your
town and parents.”
Telemachus said, “I will answer you quite truly. I am from Ithaca, and
my father is Ulysses, as surely as that he ever lived. But he has come
to some miserable end. Therefore I have taken this ship and got my crew
together to see if I can hear any news of him, for he has been away a
long time.”
“I too,” answered Theoclymenus, “am an exile, for I have killed a man
of my own race. He has many brothers and kinsmen in Argos, and they
have great power among the Argives. I am flying to escape death at
their hands, and am thus doomed to be a wanderer on the face of the
earth. I am your suppliant; take me, therefore, on board your ship that
they may not kill me, for I know they are in pursuit.”
“I will not refuse you,” replied Telemachus, “if you wish to join us.
Come, therefore, and in Ithaca we will treat you hospitably according
to what we have.”
On this he received Theoclymenus’ spear and laid it down on the deck of
the ship. He went on board and sat in the stern, bidding Theoclymenus
sit beside him; then the men let go the hawsers. Telemachus told them