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"Get thee from my table, or thou shalt find a worse Egypt and a harder Cyprus than before."
Then Ulysses said, "Surely thy soul is evil though thy body is fair; for though thou sittest at another man's feast, yet wilt thou give me nothing."
Then Antinous caught up the footstool that was under his feet, and smote Ulysses therewith. But he stood firm as a rock; and in his heart he thought on revenge. So he went and sat down at the door. And being there, he said:—
"Hear me, suitors of the Queen! Antinous has smitten me because that I am poor. May the curse of the hungry light on him therefor, ere he come to his marriage day!"
Then spake Antinous, "Sit thou still, stranger, and eat thy bread in silence, lest the young men drag thee from the house, or strip thy flesh from off thy bones."
So he spake in his insolence; but the others blamed him, saying: "Antinous, thou didst ill to smite the wanderer; there is a doom on such deeds, if there be any god in heaven. Verily, the gods oft times put on the shape of men, and go through cities, spying out whether there is righteous dealing or unrighteous among them."
But Antinous heeded not. As for Telemachus, he nursed a great sorrow in his heart to see his father so smitten; yet he shed not a tear, but sat in silence, meditating evil against the suitors.
When Penelope also heard how the stranger had been smitten in the hall, she spake to her maidens, saying, "So may Apollo, the archer, smite Antinous!"
Then Eurynome [Footnote: Eu-ryn'-o-me.], that kept the house, made answer: "O that our prayers might be fulfilled! Surely not one of these evil men should see another day."
To her replied Penelope: "Yea, nurse, all are enemies, but Antinous is the worst. Verily, he is as hateful as death."
Then Penelope called to the swineherd and said: "Go now, and bring this stranger to me; I would greet him, and inquire of him whether he has heard tidings of Ulysses, or, it may be, seen him with his eyes, for he seems to have wandered far."
Eumaeus made answer: "Truly this man will charm thy heart, O Queen! Three days did I keep him in my dwelling, and he never ceased from telling of his sorrows. As a singer of beautiful songs charmeth men, so did he charm me. He saith that he is a Cretan, and that he hath heard of Ulysses, that he is yet alive, and that he is bringing much wealth to his home."
Then said Penelope: "Go, call the man, that I may speak with him. O that Ulysses would indeed return! Soon would he and his son avenge them of these men, for all the wrong that they have done!"
And as she spake, Telemachus sneezed, and all the house rang with the noise. And Penelope said again to Eumaeus: "Call now this stranger; didst thou not mark the good omen, how my son sneezed when I spake? Verily, this vengeance shall be wrought, nor shall one escape from it. And as for this stranger, if I shall perceive that he hath spoken truth, I will give him a new mantle and tunic."
So the swineherd spake to the stranger, saying: "Penelope would speak with thee, and would inquire concerning her husband. And if she find that thou hast spoken truth, she will give thee a mantle and a tunic, and thou shalt have freedom to beg throughout the land."
But the false beggar said: "Gladly would I tell to Penelope the story of her husband, for I know him well. But I fear these suitors. Even now, when this man struck me, and for naught, none hindered the blow, no, not Telemachus himself. Go, therefore, and bid the Queen wait till the setting of the sun."
So the swineherd went, and as he crossed the threshold Penelope said: "Thou bringest him not! What meaneth the wanderer? A beggar that is shamefaced knoweth his trade but ill."
But the swineherd answered: "He doeth well, O lady, in that he fearest the wrong-doing of these insolent men. He would have thee wait till the setting of the sun, and indeed it is better for thee to have speech with him alone."
Then said Penelope: "It is well; the stranger is a man of understanding. Verily, these men are insolent above all others."
Then the swineherd went into the throng of the suitors, and spake to Telemachus, holding his head close that none should hear: "I go to see after matters at the farm. Take thou heed of what befalleth here. Many of the people have ill-will against us. May Zeus confound them!"
Telemachus made answer, "Go, as thou sayest and come again in the morning, bringing beasts for sacrifice."
So the swineherd departed; and the suitors made merry in the hall.
CHAPTER XIX
ULYSSES IN HIS HOME (continued)
After awhile there came a beggar from the city, huge of bulk, mighty to eat and drink, but his strength was not according to his size. The young men called him Irus [Footnote: I'-rus], because he was their messenger, after Iris [Footnote: I'-ris], the messenger of Zeus. He spake to Ulysses:—
"Give place, old man, lest I drag thee forth; the young men even now would have it so, but I think it shame to strike such an one as thee."
Then said Ulysses, "There is room for thee and for me; get what thou canst, for I do not grudge thee aught, but beware lest thou anger me, lest I harm thee, old though I am."
But Irus would not hear words of peace, but still challenged him to fight.
And when Antinous saw this he was glad, and said: "This is the goodliest sport that I have seen in this house. These two beggars would fight; let us haste and match them."
And the saying pleased them; and Antinous spake again: "Hear me, ye suitors of the Queen! We have put aside these paunches of the goats for our supper. Let us agree, then, that whosoever of these two shall prevail, shall have choice of these, that which pleaseth him best, and shall hereafter eat with us, and that no one else shall sit in his place."
Then said Ulysses: "It is hard for an old man to fight with a young. Yet will I do it. Only do ye swear to me that no one shall strike me a foul blow while I fight with this man."
Then Telemachus said that this should be so, and they all consented to his words. And after this Ulysses girded himself for the fight. And all that were there saw his thighs, how great and strong they were, and his shoulders, how broad, and his arms, how mighty. And they said one to another, "There will be little of Irus left, so stalwart seems this beggar man." But as for Irus himself, he would have slunk out of sight, but they that were set to gird him compelled him to come forth.
Then said Antinous: "How is this, thou braggart, that thou fearest this old man, all woebegone as he is?"
So the two came together. And Ulysses thought whether he should strike the fellow and slay him, or fell him to the ground. And this last seemed the better of the two. So when Irus had dealt him his blow, he smote him on the jaw, and brake the bone, so that he fell howling on the ground, and the blood poured from his mouth.
Then all the suitors laughed aloud. But Ulysses dragged the fellow out of the hall, and propped him by the wall of the courtyard, putting a staff in his hand, and saying, "Sit there, and keep dogs and swine from the door, but dare not hereafter to lord it over men, no, not even ov'r strangers and beggars, lest some worse thing befall thee."
Then Antinous gave Ulysses a great paunch, and Amphinomus gave two loaves, and pledged him in a cup, saying, "Good luck to thee, hereafter, though now thou seemest to have evil fortune!"
CHAPTER XX
ULYSSES IS DISCOVERED BY HIS NURSE
And when the suitors had departed, Ulysses spake to Telemachus, saying: "Come now, let us hide away the arms that are in the hall. And if any of the suitors ask concerning them, thou shalt say, 'I have put them away out of the smoke, for they are not such as they were when Ulysses departed, for the breath of fire hath marred them. And for this cause also have I put them away, lest ye should quarrel and wound one another when ye are heated with wine; for the sight of iron tempteth a man to strike.' So shalt thou speak to the suitors."
Then said Telemachus to Eurycleia, the nurse, "Shut up the women in their chambers, till I have put away in the armoury the weapons of my father, for the smoke in the hall hath made them dim."
The nurse made answer: "I wish, my child, that thou wouldest ever have such care for thy father's possessions! But say, who shall bear the light, if thou wilt not have any of the women to go before thee?"
Then said Telemachus, "This stranger shall do it, for I will not have any man eat my bread in idleness."
So the nurse shut up the women in their chambers, and Ulysses and his son set themselves to carry the shields and the helmets and the spears, from the hall into the armoury. And Athene went ever before them, holding a lamp of gold, that shed a very fair light. Thereupon said Telemachus: "Surely, my father, this is a great wonder that I behold! See the walls, and the beams, and the pillars are bright, as it were with flames of fire. This must be the doing of a god."
But Ulysses made answer: "Hold thy peace; keep the matter in thine heart, and inquire not concerning it. And now lie down and sleep, for I would talk with thy mother."
So Telemachus went to his chamber, and slept, and Ulysses was left alone in the hall, devising in his heart how he might slay the suitors.
And now Penelope came down, and sat by the fire, on a chair cunningly wrought of silver and ivory, with a footstool that was part of the chair. And soon the maidens came in, and took away the fragments of food that were left, and the cups from which the suitors drank, and piled fresh logs on the fire.
Then Penelope called to the nurse, saying, "Nurse, bring me now a settle with a fleece upon it, that the stranger may sit and tell me his story."
So the nurse brought the settle and the fleece, and Ulysses sat him down; and Penelope spake, saying: "Stranger, I will ask thee first who art thou? Whence didst thou come? What is thy city and thy father's name?"
Ulysses made answer: "Ask me now other things as thou wilt; but ask me not of my name, or my race, or my native country, lest I weep as I think thereon, for I am a man of many sorrows; and it is not fitting to mourn and weep in the house of another."
To him Penelope made reply: "Stranger, I am sore beset with troubles. For the princes of the islands round about, yea and of Ithaca itself, woo me against my will, and devour my house. Vainly have I sought to escape their wooing. For Athene put this into my heart that I should say to them: 'Noble youths that would wed me, now that Ulysses is dead, abide patiently, though ye be eager to hasten the marriage, till I shall have finished this winding-sheet for Laertes; for it were a shame, if he, having had great wealth, should lie in his grave without a winding-sheet.' So I spake, and they gave consent. Three years did I deceive them, weaving the web by day, and by night unravelling it; but in the fourth year my handmaids betrayed me. And now I have no escape from marriage, for my parents urge me, and my son is vexed because these men devour his substance, and he is now of an age to manage his own house. But come, tell me of what race thou art; thou art not born of an oak tree or a rock, as the old fables have it."
Then said Ulysses: "If thou wilt still ask me of my race, then will I tell thee; but thou wilt so bring sorrow upon me beyond that to which I am bound; for it is grief to a man who hath wandered far and suffered much to speak of the matter."
So Ulysses told his tale. False it was, but it seemed to be true. And Penelope wept to hear it. As the snow melts upon the hills when the southeast wind bloweth, and the streams run full, so did Penelope weep for her lord. And Ulysses had compassion on his wife, when he saw her weep; but his own eyes he kept as if they had been horn or iron.
But Penelope said: "Friend, suffer me to make trial of thee, whether this was indeed my husband Ulysses. Tell me now with what raiment he was clothed, and what manner of man he was, and what his company."
Then Ulysses made answer: "I remember that he had a mantle, twofold, woollen, of sea-purple, clasped with a brooch of gold, whereon was a dog that held a fawn by the throat; marvellously wrought was the dog and the fawn. Also he had a tunic, white and smooth, even as the skin of an onion when it is dry, which the women much admired to see. But whether some one had given him these things I know not, for, indeed, many gave him gifts, and I also, even a sword and a tunic. Also he had a herald with him, one Eurybates [Footnote: Eu-ryb'-a-tes.], older than he, dark-skinned, round in the shoulders, with curly hair."
When Penelope heard this she wept yet more, for she knew by these tokens that this man was indeed her lord. "This is true," she said, "O stranger, for I myself gave him these garments, and I folded them myself, and I also gave him the jewel. And now, alas! I shall see him no more."
But Ulysses made answer: "Nay, wife of Ulysses, say not so. Cease from thy mourning, for Ulysses is yet alive. Near at hand is he, in the land of the Thesprotians, and is bringing many gifts with him. So the king of the land told me, and showed me the gifts which he had gathered; many they were and great, and will enrich his house to the tenth generation. But Ulysses himself, when I was there, had gone to Dodona [Footnote: Do-do'-na.], to inquire of Zeus—for there is the oracle of the god in the midst of an oak tree—whether he shall return to his home openly or by stealth. Be sure, O lady, that in this tenth year Ulysses shall come, even when the old moon waneth and the new is born."
Then said Penelope: "May thy words be accomplished, O stranger! Verily, thou shouldest have much kindness at my hands and many gifts. Yet I have a boding in my heart that it shall not be. But now the handmaids shall spread a bed for thee with mattress and blankets that thou mayest sleep warm till morning shall come. And they shall wash thy feet."
But Ulysses spake, saying: "Mattress and blankets have been hateful to me since I left the land of Crete. I will lie as I have been wont to lie for many nights, sleepless and waiting for the day. And I have no delight in the bath; nor shall any of these maidens touch my feet. Yet if there be some old woman, faithful of heart, her I would suffer to touch my feet."
Then said Penelope: "Such an one there is, even the woman who nursed my lord, and cherished him, and carried him in her arms, from the time when his mother bare him. She is now weak with age, but she will wash thy feet."
And she spake to the nurse, saying, "Up, now, and wash this man, who is of like age with thy master."
Then the old woman covered her face with her hands and wept, saying: "Willingly will I wash thy feet both for Penelope's sake and thine own. Many strangers, worn with travel, have come hither, but never saw I one that was so like to Ulysses in voice and in feet."
And Ulysses made answer, "Even so have I heard before; men said ever that we were most like one to the other."
But when she had made ready the bath, then Ulysses sat aloof from the hearth, and turned his face to the darkness, for he feared in his heart lest, when the old woman should handle his leg, she might know a great scar thereon, where he had been rent by the tusks of a wild boar.
By this scar, then, the old nurse knew that it was Ulysses himself, and said, "O Ulysses, O my child, to think that I knew thee not!"
And she looked towards the Queen, as meaning to tell the thing to her. But Ulysses laid his hand on her throat and said softly: "Mother, wouldest thou kill me? I am returned after twenty years, and none must know till I shall be ready to take vengeance."
And the old woman held her peace. And after this Penelope talked with him again, telling him her dreams, how she had seen a flock of geese in her palace, and how that an eagle had slain them, and when she mourned for the geese, lo! a voice that said, "These geese are thy suitors, and the eagle thy husband."
And Ulysses said that the dream was well. And then she said that on the morrow she must make her choice, for she had promised to bring forth the great bow of Ulysses, and whosoever should draw it most easily, and shoot an arrow best at a mark, he should be her husband.
And Ulysses made answer to her: "It is well, lady. Put not off this trial of the bow, for before one of them shall draw the string, the great Ulysses shall come and duly shoot at the mark that shall be set."
After this Penelope slept.
CHAPTER XXI
THE TRIAL OF THE BOW
Ulysses laid him down to sleep in the gallery of the hall. On a bull's hide he lay, and over him he put fleeces of sheep that had been slain for sacrifice and feast, and the dame that kept the house threw a mantle over him.
And he slept not, for he had many thoughts in his heart, but turned him from side to side, thinking how, being one against many, he might slay the suitors in his hall.
Then Athene came down from Olympus, and stood over his head, having taken upon herself the likeness of a woman. And she spake, saying: "Wakest thou still, man of many troubles? Is not this thy house? And is not thy wife within, and thy son, a noble lad?"
Ulysses made answer: "This is true, O goddess. But I think how I, being one against many, can slay the suitors in my hall."
Then answered the goddess: "Verily, thou art weak in faith. Some put trust in men, yet men are weaker than the gods; why trustest not thou in me? Verily, I am with thee, and will keep thee to the end. But now sleep, for to watch all the night is vexation of spirit."
So saying, she poured sleep upon his eyes and went back to Olympus.
When the morning came Ulysses awoke, and he took up the fleeces, and set them on a seat in the hall, and the bull's hide he carried without. Then he lifted up his hands to Zeus, and prayed, saying, "O Father Zeus, if thou hast led me to mine own country of good will, then give me a sign."
And even as he spake Zeus thundered from Olympus; and Ulysses heard it, and was glad. Also a woman at the mill spake a word of omen. Twelve women there were that ground the meal, wheat, and barley. Eleven of these were now sleeping, for they had finished their task; but this one, being weakest of all, was still grinding. And now she stayed her work, and said: "Surely, Father Zeus, this is a sign, for thou hast thundered in a clear sky. Grant now that this be the last meal that I shall grind for the suitors in the house of Ulysses!"
Afterwards came Telemachus, and spake to the nurse, saying, "Hast thou given to the guest food and bedding, or doth he lie uncared for?"
The nurse made answer: "The stranger drank as much as he would, and ate till he said that he had had enough; but blankets and a mattress he would not have; on an hide he slept, with fleeces of sheep above. Also we cast a mantle over him."
Next came the swineherd, leading three fatted hogs, the best of all the herd. And he said. "Stranger, do these men treat thee well?"
Ulysses made answer, "May the gods repay them as they have dealt insolently with me!"
Afterwards came Melanthius, the goatherd, having goats for the feast of the day. And he spake to Ulysses bitter words: "Wilt thou still plague us, stranger, with thy begging? Verily, I think that we shall not part till we have made trial of each other with our fists. Thy begging is not to be borne; and there are other feasts whither thou mightest go."
But Ulysses answered him not a word.
Last came Philoetius [Footnote: Phi-loe'-ti-us.], the cattleherd, bringing a heifer for the feast of the suitors. He spake to Ulysses, saying: "May happiness come to thee, stranger, hereafter! Now thou art encompassed with sorrows. Mine eyes are full of tears as I behold thee, for it may be that Ulysses is clad in vile garments like to these, wandering about among men, if, indeed, he is yet alive. But if he is dead, that, indeed, is a great sorrow. For he set me over his cattle, and these are now increased beyond all counting; never have herds increased more plentifully. Nevertheless, it vexeth my heart because strangers are ever devouring them in his hall. Verily, I would have fled long since, for the thing is past all enduring, but that I hope to see Ulysses yet come again to his own."
Then Ulysses made answer: "Cattleherd, thou art a man of an understanding heart. Now hearken to what I shall say. While thou art still in this place, Ulysses shall come home, and thou shalt see it with thine eyes, yea, and the slaying of the suitors also."
And after awhile the suitors came and sat down, as was their wont, to the feast. And the servants bare to Ulysses, as Telemachus had bidden, a full share with the others. And when Ctesippus, a prince of Samos, saw this (he was a man heedless of right and of the gods), he said: "Is it well that this fellow should fare even as we? Look now at the gift that I shall give him." Thereupon he took a bullock's foot out of a basket wherein it lay, and cast it at Ulysses.
But he moved his head to the left and shunned it, and it flew on, marking the wall. And Telemachus cried in great wrath:—
"It is well for thee, Ctesippus [Footnote: Cte-sip'-pus.], that thou didst not strike this stranger. For surely, hadst thou done this thing, my spear had pierced thee through, and thy father had made good cheer, not for thy marriage, but for thy burial."
Then said Agelaus [Footnote: A-ge-la'-us.]: "This is well said. Telemachus should not be wronged, no, nor this stranger. But, on the other hand, he must bid his mother choose out of the suitors whom she will, and marry him, nor waste our time any more."
Telemachus said: "It is well. She shall marry whom she will. But from my house I will never send against her will."
After this Penelope went to fetch the great bow of Ulysses. From the peg on which it hung she took it with its sheath, and, sitting down, she laid it on her knees and wept over it, and after this rose up and went to where the suitors sat feasting in the hall. The bow she brought, and also the quiver full of arrows, and, stalling by the pillar of the dome, spake thus:—
"Ye suitors, who devour this house, lo! here is a proof of your skill. Here is the bow of the great Ulysses. Whoever shall bend it easiest in his hands, and shoot an arrow most easily through the holes in the heads of the twelve axes that Telemachus shall set up, him will I follow, leaving this house, which I shall remember only in my dreams."
Then she bade Eumaeus bear the bow and the arrows to the suitors. And the good swineherd wept to see his master's bow, and Philoetius, the herdsman of the kine, wept also, for he was a good man, and loved the house of Ulysses.
Then Telemachus planted in order the axes wherein were the holes, and was minded himself to draw the bow; and indeed would have done the thing, but Ulysses signed to him that he should not. Therefore he said, "Methinks I am too weak and young; ye that are elder should try the first."
Then first Leiodes [Footnote: Lei-o'-des.], the priest, who alone among the suitors hated their evil ways, made trial of the bow. But he moved it not, but wearied his hands with it, for they were tender, and unaccustomed to toil. And he said, "I cannot bend this bow; let some other try; but I think that it shall be grief and pain to many this day."
And Antinous was wroth to hear such words, and bade Melanthius bring forth a roll of fat, that they might anoint the string and soften it. So they softened the string with fat, but still could they not bend it, for they all of them tried in vain, till only Antinous and Eurymachus were left, who, indeed, were the bravest and the strongest of them all.
Now the swineherd and the herdsman of the kine had gone forth out of the yard, and Ulysses came behind them and said: "What would ye do if Ulysses were to come back to his home? Would ye fight for him or for the suitors?"
And both said that they would fight for him.
And Ulysses said: "It is even I who am come back in the twentieth year, and ye, I know, are glad at heart that I am come; nor know I of any one besides. And if ye will help me as brave men to-day, wives shall ye have, and possessions and houses near to mine own. And ye shall be brothers and comrades to Telemachus. And for a sign, behold this scar which the wild boar made."
Then they wept for joy and kissed Ulysses, and he also kissed them. And he said to Eumaeus that he should bring the bow to him when the suitors had tried their fortune therewith; also that he should bid the women keep within doors, nor stir out if they should hear the noise of battle. And Philoetius he bade lock the doors of the hall, and fasten them with a rope.
After this he came back to the hall, and Eurymachus had the bow in his hands, and sought to warm it at the fire. Then he essayed to draw it, but could not. And he groaned aloud, saying: "Woe is me! not for loss of this marriage only, for there are other women to be wooed in Greece, but that we are so much weaker than the great Ulysses. This is, indeed, shame to tell."
Then said Antinous: "Not so; to-day is a holy day of the god of archers; therefore we could not draw the bow. But to-morrow will we try once more, after sacrifice to Apollo."
And this saying pleased them all; but Ulysses said, "Let me try this bow; for I would fain know whether I have such strength as I had in former days."
At this all the suitors were wroth, and chiefly Antinous, but Penelope said that it should be so, and promised the man great gifts if he could draw this bow.
But Telemachus spake thus: "Mother, the bow is mine to give or to refuse. And no man shall say me nay, if I will that this stranger make trial of it. But do thou go to thy chamber with thy maidens, and let men take thought for these things."
And this he said because he would have her depart from the hall forthwith, knowing what should happen therein. But she marvelled to hear him speak with such authority, and answered not, but departed. And when Eumaeus would have carried the bow to Ulysses, the suitors spake roughly to him, but Telemachus constrained him to go. Therefore he took the bow and gave it to his master. Then went he to Eurycleia, and bade her shut the door of the women's chambers and keep them within, whatsoever they might hear.
Then Ulysses handled the great bow, trying it, whether it had taken any hurt, but the suitors thought scorn of him. Then, when he had found it to be without flaw, just as a minstrel fastens a string upon his harp and strains it to the pitch, so he strung the bow without toil; and holding the string in his right hand, he tried its tone, and the tone was sweet as the voice of a swallow. Then he took an arrow from the quiver, and laid the notch upon the string and drew it, sitting as he was, and the arrow passed through every ring, and stood in the wall beyond. Then he said to Telemachus:—
"There is yet a feast to be held before the sun go down."
And he nodded the sign to Telemachus. And forthwith the young man stood by him, armed with spear and helmet and shield.
CHAPTER XXII
THE SLAYING OF THE SUITORS
Then spake Ulysses among the suitors: "This labour has been accomplished. Let me try at yet another mark."
And he aimed his arrow at Antinous. But the man was just raising a cup to his lips, thinking not of death, for who had thought that any man, though mightiest of mortals, would venture on such a deed, being one among many? Right through the neck passed the arrow-head, and the blood gushed from his nostrils, and he dropped the cup and spurned the table from him.
And all the suitors, when they saw him fall, leapt from their seats; but when they looked, there was neither spear nor shield upon the wall. And they knew not whether it was by chance or of set purpose that the stranger had smitten him. But Ulysses then declared who he was, saying:—
"Dogs, ye thought that I should never come back! Therefore have ye devoured my house, and made suit to my wife while I yet lived, and feared not the gods nor regarded men. Therefore a sudden destruction is come upon you all."
Then when all the others trembled for fear, Eurymachus said: "If thou be indeed Ulysses of Ithaca, thou hast said well. Foul wrong has been done to thee in the house and in the field. But lo! he who was the mover of it all lieth here, even Antinous. Nor was it so much this marriage that he sought, as to be king of this land, having destroyed thy house. But we will pay thee back for all that we have devoured, even twenty times as much."
But Ulysses said: "Speak not of paying back. My hands shall not cease from slaying till I have taken vengeance on you all."
Then said Eurymachus to his comrades: "This man will not stay his hands. He will smite us all with his arrows where he stands. But let us win the door, and raise a cry in the city; soon then will this archer have shot his last."
And he rushed on, with his two-edged knife in his hand. But as he rushed, Ulysses smote him on the breast with an arrow, and he fell forwards. And when Amphinomus came on, Telemachus slew him with his spear, but drew not the spear from the body, lest some one should smite him unawares.
Then he ran to his father and said, "Shall I fetch arms for us and our helpers?"
"Yea," said he, "and tarry not, lest my arrows be spent."
So he fetched from the armoury four shields and four helmets and eight spear. And he and the servants, Eumaeus and Philoetius, armed themselves. Also Ulysses, when his arrows were spent, donned helmet and shield, and took a mighty spear in each hand. But Melanthius, the goatherd, crept up to the armoury and brought down there from twelve helmets and shields, and spears as many. And when Ulysses saw that the suitors were arming themselves, he feared greatly, and said to his son:—
"There is treachery here. It is one of the women, or, it may be, Melanthius, the goatherd."
And Telemachus said, "This fault is mine, my father, for I left the door of the chamber unfastened."
And soon Eumaeus spied Melanthius stealing up to the chamber again, and followed him, and Philoetius with him. There they caught him, even as he took a helmet in one hand and a shield in the other, and bound his feet and hands, and fastened him aloft by a rope to the beams of the ceiling.
Then these two went back to the hall, and there also came Athene, having the shape of Mentor. Still, for she would yet further try the courage of Ulysses and his son, she helped them not as yet, but, changing her shape, sat on the roof-beam like unto a swallow.
And then cried Agelaus: "Friends, Mentor is gone, and helps them not. Let us not cast our spears at random, but let six come on together; perchance we may prevail against them."
Then they cast their spears, but Athene turned them aside, one to the pillar, and another to the door, and another to the wall. But Ulysses and Telemachus and the two herdsmen slew each his man; and yet again they did so, and again. Only Amphimedon [Footnote: Am- phim'-e-don.]wounded Telemachus, and Ctesippus grazed the shoulder of Eumaeus. But Telemachus struck down Amphimedon, and the herdsman of the kine slew Ctesippus, saying: "Take this, for the ox-foot which thou gavest to our guest." And all the while Athene waved her flaming shield from above and the suitors fell as birds are scattered and torn by eagles.
Then Leiodes, the priest, made supplication to Ulysses, saying: "I never wrought evil in this house, and would have kept others from it, but they would not. Naught have I done save serve at the altar; wherefore, slay me not."
And Ulysses made reply, "That thou hast served at the altar of these men is enough, and also that thou wouldest wed my wife."
So he slew him; but Phemius, the minstrel, he spared, for he had sung among the suitors in the hall because he had been compelled, and not of his own will; and also Medon, the herald, bidding them go into the yard without. There they sat, holding by the altar and looking fearfully every way, for they still feared that they should die.
So the slaughtering of the suitors was ended; and now Ulysses bade cleanse the hall and wash the benches and the tables with water, and purify them with sulphur; and when this was done, that Eurycleia, the nurse, should go to Penelope and tell her that her husband was indeed returned.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE END OF THE WANDERING
Eurycleia went to the chamber of her mistress, bearing the glad tidings. She made haste in her great joy, and her feet stumbled one over the other. And she stood by the head of Penelope, and spake, saying: "Awake, dear child, and see with thine eyes that which thou hast desired so long. For, indeed, Ulysses hath come back, and hath slain the men that devoured his substance."
But Penelope made answer: "Surely, dear nurse, the gods have bereft thee of thy sense; and verily, they can make the wisdom of the wise to be foolishness, and they can give wisdom to the simple. Why dost thou mock me, rousing me out of my sleep, the sweetest that hath ever come to my eyes since the day when Ulysses sailed for Troy, most hateful of cities? Go, get thee to the chamber of the women! Had another of the maids roused me in this fashion, I had sent her back with a sharp rebuke, But thine old age protects thee."
Then said the nurse: "I mock thee not, dear child. In very truth Ulysses is here. He is the stranger to whom such dishonour was done. But Telemachus knew long since who he was, and hid the matter, that they might take vengeance on the suitors."
Then was Penelope glad, and she leapt from bed, and fell upon the neck of the old woman, weeping, and saying, "Tell me now the truth, whether, indeed, he hath come home, and hath slain the suitors, he being but one man, and they many."
The nurse made answer: "How it was done I know not; only I heard the groaning of men that were slain. Amazed did we women sit in our chamber till thy son called me. Then I found Ulysses standing among the dead, who lay one upon another. Verily, thou hadst been glad at heart to see him, so like to a lion was he, all stained with blood and the labour of the fight. And now the suitors lie in a heap, and he is purifying his house with brimstone. But come, that ye may have an end of all the sorrow that ye have endured, for thy desire is fulfilled. Thy husband hath come back, and hath avenged him to the full on these evil men."
But Penelope said: "Dear nurse, be not too bold in thy joy. Thou knowest how gladly I would see him. But this is not he; it is one of the gods that hath slain the suitors, being wroth at their insolence and wrong-doing. But Ulysses himself hath perished."
Then the nurse spake, saying: "What is that thou sayest? That thy husband will return no more, when he is even now in his own house? Nay, thou art, indeed, slow to believe. Hear now this manifest token that I espied with mine eyes,—the scar of the wound that long since a wild boar dealt him with his tusk. I saw it when I washed his feet, and would fain have told thee, but he laid his hand upon my mouth, and in his wisdom suffered me not to speak."
To her Penelope made answer: "It is hard for thee to know the purposes of the gods. Nevertheless, I will go to my son, that I may see the suitors dead, and the man that slew them."
So she went and sat in the twilight by the other wall, and Ulysses sat by a pillar, with eyes cast down, waiting till his wife should speak to him. But she was sore perplexed; for now she seemed to know him, and now she knew him not, for he had not suffered that the women should put new robes upon him.
And Telemachus said: "Mother, evil mother, sittest thou apart from my father, and speakest not to him? Surely thy heart is harder than a stone."
But Ulysses said: "Let be, Telemachus. Thy mother will know that which is true in good time. But now let us hide this slaughter for awhile, lest the friends of these men seek vengeance against us. Wherefore, let there be music and dancing in the hall, so that men shall say, 'This is the wedding of the Queen, and there is joy in the palace,' and know not of the truth."
So the minstrel played and the women danced. And meanwhile Ulysses went to the bath, and clothed himself in bright apparel, and came back to the hall, and Athene made him fair and young to see. Then he sat him down as before, over against his wife, and said:—
"Surely, O lady, the gods have made thee harder of heart than all other women. Would another wife have kept away from her husband, coming back now after twenty years?"
And when she doubted yet, he spake again: "Hear thou this, Penelope, and know that it is I indeed. I will tell thee of the fashion of my bed. There grew an olive in the inner court, with a stem of the bigness of a pillar. Round this did I build the chamber, and I roofed it over, and put doors upon it. Then I lopped off the boughs of the olive, and made it into the bedpost. Afterwards, beginning from this, I wrought the bedstead till I had finished it, inlaying the work with gold and silver and ivory. And within I fastened a band of ox-hide that had been dyed with purple. Whether the bedstead be now fast in its place, or whether some one hath moved it—and verily, it was no light thing to move —I know not. But this was its fashion of old."
Then Penelope knew him, that he was her husband indeed, and ran to him, and threw her arms about him and kissed him, saying: "Pardon me, my lord, if I was slow to know thee; for ever I feared that some one should deceive me, saying that he was my husband. But now I know this, that thou art he and not another."
And they wept over each other and kissed each other. So did Ulysses come back to his home after twenty years.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE TRIUMPH OF ULYSSES
Meanwhile, Ulysses went forth from his palace to the dwelling of Laertes, that was in the fields. There the old man dwelt, and a woman of Sicily cared for him. And Ulysses spake to his son and to the shepherds, saying: "Go ye into the house and prepare a meal of swine's flesh, as savoury as may be; and I will make trial of my father, whether he will know me. For it may well be that he hath forgotten me, seeing that I have been now a long time absent."
So spake Ulysses, and gave also his arms to the men to keep for him. So they went into the house. And Ulysses went to the orchard, making search for his father. There he found not Dolius [Footnote: Do'-li-us.], that was steward to Laertes, nor any one of his servants, nor of his sons, for they were gone to make a fence about the field. Only the old man he found; and he was busy digging about a tree. Filthy was the tunic that he had about him and sewn with thread; and he had coverings of ox-hide on his legs to keep them from the thorns, and gloves upon his hands, and a cap of dog-skin on his head. And when Ulysses saw him, how that he was worn with old age and very sorrowful, he stood under a pear tree and wept. Then for awhile he took counsel with himself, whether he should kiss his father and embrace him, and make himself known, and tell him how he had come back to his home, or should first inquire of him, and learn all that he would know. And he judged it best first to inquire. So he came near to the old man; and the old man was digging about a tree, having his head bent down.
Then said Ulysses: "Verily, old man, thou lackest not skill to deal with an orchard. And truly, neither fig, nor vine, nor olive, nor pear may flourish in a garden without care. But yet another thing will I say to thee, and be not thou wroth when thou hearest it. Thy garden, indeed, is well cared for, but thou thyself art in evil plight. For old age lieth heavy upon thee, and thou art clad in filthy garments. Yet truly it is not because thou art idle that thy master thus dealeth with thee; nor, indeed, art thou in any wise like unto a slave; for thy face and thy stature are as it might be of a king. Such an one as thou art should wash himself, and sit down to meat, and sleep softly; for such is the right of old age. But come, tell me truly, whose servant art thou? Whose orchard dost thou tend? Tell me this also: is this, indeed, the land of Ithaca to which I am come? This, indeed, a certain man that I met as I came hither told me, but he seemed to be but of simple mind, nor would he listen to my words, nor tell me of a friend that I have who dwelleth in this place, whether he be alive or dead. I entertained him a long time since in my house, and never was there stranger whom I loved more than him. And he said that he was the son of Laertes, and that he came from the land of Ithaca."
To him Laertes made answer, weeping the while: "Doubt not, stranger, that thou art come to the land of which thou inquirest. But unrighteous and violent men have it in possession. But as for the son of Laertes, hadst thou found him here, verily, he would have sent thee away with many gifts. But tell me truly, is it long time since thou didst give him entertainment? For, indeed, he is my son, unhappy man that I am. Surely either he hath been drowned in the sea, and the fishes have devoured him, or wild beasts and birds of the air have eaten him upon the land. And neither father nor mother, nor his wife, Penelope, most prudent of women, could make lamentation for him and lay him out for his burial. But tell me, who art thou? Where is thy city, and what thy parentage? Did thine own ship bring thee hither, and thy companions with thee, or didst thou come as a trader upon the ship of another?"
Then said Ulysses: "All this I will tell thee truly. My name is Eperitus.[Footnote: E-per'-i-tus.] It was of the doing of the gods that I came hither from the land of Sicily, and not of mine own will. And my ship is moored hard by. As for Ulysses, it is now the fifth year since he left me. Yet verily, the omens were good when he went forth on his journey, so that we both rejoiced, thinking that he would journey safely, and that we should be friends the one to the other in the time to come."
So spake Ulysses; and when the old man, his father, heard these words, great grief came upon him, and he took up the dust in his hands and poured it upon the white hairs of his head. And the heart of Ulysses was moved within him as he saw it, and he was ready to weep when he beheld his father. Then he threw his arms about him and kissed him, and said: "My father, here am I, thy son for whom thou weepest. Lo! I am come back to my native country after twenty years, and I have avenged myself on them that sought my wife in marriage, slaying them all."
To him the old man made answer, "If thou art my very son Ulysses, tell me some clear sign whereby I may know thee."
Then said Ulysses: "See, now, this scar upon my thigh where the wild boar wounded me on Mount Parnassus.[Footnote: Par nas'-sus.] For thou and my mother sent me to my grandfather, and I was wounded in the hunting. And let this also be a sign to thee. I will tell thee what trees of the orchard thou gavest me long since, when I was a boy and walked with thee, inquiring of thee their names. Thirteen pear trees didst thou give me, and ten apple trees, and of fig trees two score. Fifty rows also of vines didst thou promise to give me when the time of grapes should come."
And the old man's heart was moved within him, and his knees failed him, for he knew that the signs were true. And he threw his arms about his son, and the spirit of the old man revived, and he said: "Now I know that there are gods in heaven when I hear that these evil men have been punished for their wrong-doing. Nevertheless, I fear much lest their kinsmen shall stir up the men of Ithaca and of the islands round about against us."
Then said Ulysses: "Trouble not thyself with these matters, my father. Let us go rather to the house. There are Telemachus and Eumaeus, and the keeper of the herds, and they have made ready, that we may dine."
So they went to the house, and found Telemachus and his companions cutting flesh for the dinner and mixing the wine. Then the woman of Sicily washed the old man Laertes and anointed him with oil, and clad him in a fair cloak. And Athene also stood by him, and made him taller and sturdier to look on than before. And his son marvelled to behold him, so fair he was and like to the gods that live forever, so that he spake to him, saying, "O my father, surely one of the gods that live forever hath made thee fair to look upon and tall!"
And Laertes made answer: "Would to God that I had stood by you yesterday, taking vengeance on the suitors, with the strength I had of old. Many a man would I have slain with my spear, and thou wouldest have rejoiced in thy heart."
Thus spake they together. And when the dinner was ready they sat down to meat; and the old man Dolius, with his sons, approached, coming in from their labour; for the woman of Sicily, that was the mother of the lads, had called them. And when they saw Ulysses, they stood amazed and speechless. And Ulysses said, "Cease to wonder, old man, at this sight, and sit down to meat; truly we are ready for our meat, and have waited long time for you."
Then Dolius ran to him, stretching forth both his hands, and caught the hand of Ulysses and kissed it on the wrist. And he spake, saying: "Right glad are we at thy coming, for we looked not for thee. Surely it is of the gods that thou hast returned. May all things be well with thee. But tell me this. Knoweth Queen Penelope of thy coming, or shall I send a messenger to tell her?"
"Verily, she knoweth it," said Ulysses. Then the old man sat down to meat, and his sons also, when they had greeted Ulysses.
In the meanwhile there spread through the city the tidings how the suitors had been slain; and the kindred of the men came to the house of Ulysses with many groans and tears, and carried away the dead bodies and buried them. But such as came from other lands they put on shipboard, that they might carry them to the sepulchres of their fathers. And when these things were ended they gathered themselves together in the marketplace; and Eupeithes [Footnote: Eu-pei'-thes.] stood up amongst them, being sore troubled in his heart for his son Antinous, whom Ulysses had slain first of all the suitors. He stood up, therefore, in the midst, and spake: "Surely this man hath wrought great evils in this land. First he took comrades with him to Troy, many in number and brave. These all he lost, and their ships also. And now he hath come hither and slain the princes of the people. Shame it were to us, yea, among the generations to come, if we avenge not ourselves on them that have slain our sons and our brothers. Verily, I desire not life, if such should go unpunished. Come, therefore, let us make haste, lest they cross over the sea and so escape."
So Eupeithes spake, weeping the while. And all the people had pity to hear him. But Medon, the herald, stood up in the assembly and spake, saying: "Hear me, men of Ithaca! Verily, Ulysses did not all these things without the helping of the gods that live forever. I, indeed, saw with mine own eyes one of the gods standing by Ulysses, being like to Prince Mentor in shape. By Ulysses there stood a god, and strengthened him; and another was there among the suitors, troubling them so that they fell."
Thus spake Medon, the herald, and after him stood up Alitherses [Footnote: A-li-ther'-ses.], the seer, that knew all things that had been and should be hereafter, and spake, saying: "It is of your folly, ye men of Ithaca, that all these things have come to pass. Ye would not hearken to me, no, nor to Mentor, nor would ye restrain your sons from their folly. Great wickedness did they work, wasting the goods of a brave man, and making suit to his wife, for they thought not that he would return. Come now, hearken unto me, lest some worse evil befall you."
Then some indeed rose up and made haste to depart; and these were the greater part; but the others remained in their places, for they liked not the counsel of Medon and the seer, but regarded the words of Eupeithes. Then they clad themselves in their armour and marched to the city, Eupeithes leading them.
Then spake Athene to Zeus: "Tell me, my father, what dost thou purpose in thy heart? Wilt thou that there be strife or friendship between these two?"
To her Zeus made answer: "Why dost thou inquire this thing of me? Was it not of thy contriving that Ulysses slew the suitors in his palace? Order it as thou wilt. But let there be peace and friendship in the end, that Ulysses may prosper in the land, and the people dwell in happiness about him."
Then Athene departed, and came to the land of Ithaca.
And when Ulysses and they that sat with him had made an end of eating and drinking, the King said, "Let some one go forth and see whether these men are near at hand."
So the son of Dolius went forth. And as he stood on the threshold he saw them approaching, and cried: "They are even now close at hand; let us arm ourselves in all haste."
So they armed themselves. With Ulysses were Telemachus, and Eumaeus, and the keeper of the herds. Also there stood with him six sons of Dolius; and the two old men also, Laertes and Dolius, though their heads were white with age. And as they went forth from the house Athene came near, having the form and the voice of Prince Mentor. And when Ulysses saw her, he was glad at heart, and spake to Telemachus, saying, "I know thee well, my son, that thou wilt bear thyself bravely, and do no dishonour to the house of thy fathers, that have ever been famous in the land for courage and manhood."
Telemachus answered, "This, my father, thou shalt see for thyself, if thou wilt."
And Laertes was glad at heart, and said, "How happy is this day, in the which my son and my grandson contend one with the other in valour."
Then Athene came near to the old man, and said, "Laertes, pray thou first to Athene and Father Zeus, and then cast thy spear."
So she spake, and breathed great strength into his heart. And having prayed, he cast his spear, and smote Eupeithes through the helmet, so that he fell dead upon the ground. Then Ulysses and his son fell upon the men of Ithaca with swords and two-handed spears. Verily, they had slain them all, but that Athene cried aloud, saying: "Cease, men of Ithaca, from the battle, for it is too hard for you."
And the men were sore afraid when they heard her voice, and threw their arms upon the ground and fled, if haply they might escape to the city. And when Ulysses would have pursued after them, Zeus cast a thunderbolt from heaven, so that it fell before the feet of Athene. And Athene cried, "Cease from the battle, son of Laertes, lest Zeus be wroth with thee."
So Ulysses was stayed from the battle; and Zeus and Athene made peace between the King and the men of Ithaca.
PRONUNCIATION OF PROPER NAMES
Pronounce ae, as in Caesar; ei as i in island; oe as ae; y, when accented, as i in island; when unaccented, as i in till.
Pronounce ch as k. C and g are soft (as s and j) before ei, i, ae, oe, eu; otherwise, hard, as k; and g (in gas).
A-chil'-les. AE-gis'-thus. AE-gyp'-tus. AE'-o-lus. AE-to'-li-an. Ag-a-mem'-non. A-ge-la'-us. A'-jax. Al-cin'-o-us. A-li-ther'-ses. Am-phim'-e-don. Am-phin'-o-mus. An-tin'-o-us. A-pol'-lo. A-re'-te. A-re-thu'-sa. Ar'-te-mis. A-the'-ne. A'-treus.
Bo-o'-tes.
Ca-lyp'-so. Cau-co'-ni-ans. Cha-ryb'-dis. Ci'-co-nes. Cir'-ce. Cte-sip'-pus. Cy-clo'-pes. Cy'-clops.
De-mod'-e-cus. Do-do'-na. Do'-li-s. Du-lich'-i-um.
E-che-ne'-us. E'-lis. El-pe'-nor. E-per'-i-tus. Eu-mae'-us Eu-pei'-thes. Eu-ryb'-a-tes. Eu-ry-clei'-a. Eu-ryl'-o-dus. Eu-rym'-a-chus. Eu-ryn'-o-me.
Ha'-des. He'-ra. Her'-mes. He-phaes-tus.
I'-no. I'-ris. I-rus. Ith'-a-ca.
Ja'-son.
La-ce-dae'-mon. La-er'-tes. La'-mos. Laes'-try-gons. La-o'-da-mas. Lei-o'-des. Le-oc'-ri-tus.
Me'-don. Me-lan'-thi-us. Me-ne-la'-us. Men'-tes. Men'-tor.
Nau-sic'-a-a.
O-gyg'-i-a. O-lym'-pus. O-ri'-on.
Par-nas'-sus. Pa-tro'-clus. Pei-sis'-tra-tus. Pe-nel'-o-pe. Phae-a'-ci-aus. Pha'-ros. Phe'-mi-us. Phe'-rae. Phi-loe'-ti-us. Phoe-ni'-ci-aus. Phor'-cys. Plei'-a-des. Po-li'-des. Pol-y-phe'-mus. Po-sei'-don. Pro'-teus. Py'-los.
Sa'-mos. Si-do'-ni-ans. Scyl'-la.
Ta'-phi-ans. Tei-re'-si-as. Te-lem'-a-chus. Thes-pro'-ti-a.
U-lys'-ses.
Za-cyn'-thus.
As many of the Greek gods are better known under the names given to them by the Romans, the following list is given:—
Greek Latin
Zeus. Jupiter. Hera. Juno. (Pallas) Athene. Minerva. Aphrodite. Venus. Poseidon. Neptune. Ares. Mars. Hephaestus. Vulcan.
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