ODYSSEY 14

But he, leaving the harbor, set forth upon a rugged path through the wooded country and across the highlands, to the place where Athena had pointed out the divine swineherd, who of all the servants that divine Odysseus had acquired, cared most for his master's estate.

He found him sitting in the forecourt of his dwelling, where his yard

was built high-walled, upon a commanding spot, both fair and large, with a clear space all around. The swineherd himself had built it for the swine of his absent master, without word to his mistress or the old man Laertes, with stones he had hauled and coped it with a hedge of wild pear. And outside he had driven stakes all the way around, thick and close-set, splitting the dark heart of an oak to make them. Within the yard he had made twelve sties, side by side, as beds for the swine; and in each one fifty ground-lying sows were penned, all of them brood-sows; but the boars slept outside. These were far fewer in number, for their ranks were thinned by the feasting of the godlike suitors, since the swineherd would always send them the very finest of all his fatted hogs; and these numbered three hundred and sixty. Beside them, four dogs, fierce as wild beasts, always slept; the swineherd, that leader of men, had bred them himself. He was at that moment fitting sandals to his own feet, cutting a piece of well-colored ox-hide. As for his other men, three of them were elsewhere, out with the herds of swine, while the fourth he had sent off to the city, compelled to drive a hog to the arrogant suitors, that they might slaughter it and sate their hearts with its meat.

Suddenly the baying dogs caught sight of Odysseus. They rushed at him with loud cries; but Odysseus, with crafty presence of mind, sank to the ground, and the staff fell from his hand. There by his own steading he might have suffered a grievous injury; but the swineherd, rushing with swift feet to the rescue, sprang through the gateway, and the leather fell from his hand. Shouting, he drove the dogs off, scattering them every which way with a volley of stones, and then he addressed his master:

“Old man, the dogs nearly tore you to pieces in an instant, and you would have brought shame upon me. And as it is, the gods have given me other griefs and sorrows. For I sit here, mourning and lamenting my godlike master, and I fatten his hogs for other men to devour, while he, perhaps, craving for food, wanders through the lands and cities of men who speak another tongue, if he is still alive and sees the light of the sun. But come, follow me into my hut, old man, so that you too, when you have satisfied your heart with food and wine, may tell me where you are from and what sorrows you have endured.”

So speaking, the divine swineherd led the way to his hut, and taking him inside, he sat him down, strewing a thick pile of brushwood, over which he spread the skin of a shaggy wild goat, his own bedding, large and thick. And Odysseus rejoiced that he had received him so well, and he spoke and called him by name:

“May Zeus and the other immortal gods grant you, my host, your dearest wish, for having welcomed me with a ready heart.”

And answering him, Eumaeus, you swineherd, said: “Stranger, it is not right for me, not even if a man more wretched than you were to come, to dishonor a guest; for all strangers and beggars are from Zeus. And our gift, though small, is welcome; for such is the way of servants, always living in fear when new masters hold power. For surely the gods have blocked the return of him who would have loved me truly and given me possessions of my own, such things as a kind-hearted master gives to his servant, a house and a plot of land and a much-wooed wife, for one who has labored long for him, and a god prospers his work, just as my work prospers, here where I remain. Thus my lord would have rewarded me greatly, had he grown old here; but he has perished. Would that the whole line of Helen had perished root and branch, for she has been the undoing of many a hero's knees. For my master, too, went for the sake of Agamemnon's honor to Ilium, famed for its horses, there to fight against the Trojans.”

So saying, he swiftly bound his tunic with his belt, and went to the sties where the herds of swine were penned. From there he chose two, brought them in, and slaughtered them both, then singed them, cut them up, and spitted them on skewers. When he had roasted it all, he brought and set it before Odysseus, still hot on the spits, and sprinkled white barley meal over it. Then in an ivy-wood bowl he mixed honey-sweet wine, and sat down himself opposite his guest, and urged him on, saying:

“Eat now, my guest, such fare as is set before servants, porklings; the fatted hogs are what the suitors devour, with no thought of reckoning in their minds, nor any pity. But the blessed gods do not love ruthless deeds; rather, they honor justice and the righteous acts of men. Even hostile and cruel men, who set foot upon a foreign land, and Zeus grants them plunder, and they fill their ships and turn their steps toward home— even in their hearts a powerful fear of retribution falls. But these men know something, they must have heard some voice from a god telling of his mournful end, which is why they have no will to woo in a just manner, nor to return to their own homes, but at their ease they devour his substance with insolence, and there is no restraint. For every day and every night that comes from Zeus, they sacrifice not just one victim, or even two; and the wine they draw off and waste with insolence. For his wealth was indeed immense; no other hero possessed so much, neither on the dark mainland nor on Ithaca itself. Not even twenty men together have such riches. Let me reckon it for you. On the mainland, twelve herds of cattle; as many flocks of sheep, as many droves of swine, as many wide-ranging herds of goats, all tended by strangers and his own herdsmen. And here, ranging at the island's edge, are eleven herds of goats in all, with good men to watch over them. And each of these men brings them a beast each day, whichever of the fatted goats seems the finest. As for me, I guard and keep these swine, and I carefully choose the best among them to send to the suitors.”

So he spoke; and Odysseus ate the meat and drank the wine with relish, greedily and in silence, plotting evils for the suitors. But when he had supped and refreshed his spirit with the food, the swineherd filled the cup from which he himself drank, and gave it to him brimming with wine. He accepted, and his heart rejoiced, and raising his voice, he spoke to him with winged words:

“My friend, who was the man who bought you with his own wealth, so very rich and powerful as you describe him? You say he perished for the sake of Agamemnon's honor. Tell me his name, in case I might know such a man. For Zeus and the other immortal gods would know, if I might bring you news of him, having seen him; for I have wandered far.”

Then the swineherd, a leader of men, answered him: “Old man, no wandering man who comes here bearing news could ever convince his wife and his dear son. To no purpose, and in need of care, do vagabonds tell lies, and have no desire to speak the truth. Any wanderer who comes to the land of Ithaca goes to my mistress and spouts his deceptions. And she receives him well and shows him kindness and questions him on every point, and as she mourns, the tears fall from her eyelids, as is the way of a woman whose husband has perished in a distant land. And you too, old man, would quickly fabricate a tale, if someone were to give you a cloak and tunic to wear. But as for him, by now the swift dogs and birds of prey have likely torn the skin from his bones, and his spirit has left him; or the fish have devoured him in the sea, and his bones lie on the shore, wrapped in a deep shroud of sand. So he has perished there, and for his friends he has left behind only sorrow for all, but for me most of all. For I shall never find another master as kind as he, wherever I may go, not even if I were to return to my father and mother's house, where I was first born and where they themselves raised me. And yet I do not grieve for them so much, though I long to see them with my own eyes in my native land; no, it is a longing for Odysseus, long departed, that seizes me. And though he is not here, stranger, I am ashamed to speak his name, for he loved me dearly and cared for me in his heart. So I call him my elder, even though he is far away.”

Then long-suffering divine Odysseus addressed him in turn: “My friend, since you utterly deny it and say he will never return, and your heart is ever faithless,

I will tell you, not merely with words, but with an oath, that Odysseus shall return. And let my reward for the good news be given at once, when he has come and reached his own house. Then clothe me in a cloak and tunic, fine garments. But before that, no matter my need, I will accept nothing. For that man is as hateful to me as the gates of Hades, who, yielding to poverty, speaks words of deception. Let Zeus be my witness first among gods, and this hospitable table, and the hearth of faultless Odysseus to which I have come: I swear that all these things shall be fulfilled as I declare. Within this very year Odysseus will return, as this moon wanes and the next one begins. He will come home and take his vengeance on any who here dishonor his wife and his glorious son.”

And answering him, Eumaeus, you swineherd, said: “Old man, I shall never have to pay that reward for good news, nor will Odysseus ever come home. But come, drink in peace, and let us turn our minds to other things; do not remind me of these matters. For the heart in my breast is filled with pain whenever someone reminds me of my dear master. As for your oath, let us set it aside. But may Odysseus still come, as I desire it, and Penelope, and the old man Laertes, and godlike Telemachus. But now I grieve inconsolably for the son whom Odysseus begot, Telemachus. When the gods had raised him like a young sapling, I thought that among men he would be no lesser than his own dear father, admirable in form and feature. But one of the immortals has unhinged the sound mind within him, or perhaps some man has. For he has gone in search of news of his father, to sacred Pylos; and now the noble suitors lie in ambush for his return, so that the line of godlike Arcesius may be wiped from Ithaca, without a name. But let us leave him be, whether he is to be caught or to escape, and may the son of Cronos hold his hand over him. But come, old man, tell me of your own sorrows, and tell me this truly, that I may know it well. Who are you and from what people? Where are your city and your parents? On what kind of ship did you arrive? And how did sailors bring you to Ithaca? Who did they claim to be? For I do not imagine you came here on foot.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered him and said: “Then I shall tell you these things most accurately. If we now had time and food enough, and sweet wine, to feast here within the hut in peace, while others attend to the work, I could easily, for a full year, not finish telling the sorrows of my heart, all the toils I have endured by the will of the gods.

I declare that my lineage is from the broad lands of Crete, the son of a wealthy man. And many other sons were born and bred in his halls as well, legitimate, from his wife. But a bought woman was my mother, a concubine; yet he honored me equally with his true-born sons, Castor, son of Hylax, whose lineage I claim. In his time he was honored as a god among the Cretan people for his good fortune, his riches, and his glorious sons. But the fates of death came and carried him away to the house of Hades. And his high-minded sons divided the inheritance among themselves and cast lots for the shares, but to me they gave very little, and assigned me a house. Yet I took a wife from a house of great possessions, on the strength of my own valor. For I was no weakling, nor a shirker of battle. But now all that is gone; yet I think that even by looking at the stubble, you can guess the harvest; for truly, misery has laid me very low. Yet Ares and Athena gave me courage and the power to break ranks. Whenever I chose the best men for an ambush, sowing evils for the enemy, my proud heart never foresaw my own death, but leaping forth far ahead of all others, I would strike with my spear any enemy who faltered in his flight before me. Such a man was I in war. But toil on the farm was not to my liking, nor the care of a household, which rears glorious children, but ships with their oars were always dear to my heart, and wars, and well-polished spears and arrows, dread things, which make other men shudder. But these were the things I loved, which I suppose a god put in my heart, for different men take delight in different deeds.

Before the sons of the Achaeans ever set foot in Troy, nine times I led men and swift-faring ships against foreign peoples, and great good fortune came to me. From the spoils I would choose what pleased me, and much more I received by lot. Swiftly my house grew rich, and thereafter I became feared and respected among the Cretans. But when far-seeing Zeus devised that hateful voyage, which unstrung the knees of many a man, then they bade me and renowned Idomeneus to lead the ships to Ilium; and there was no means to refuse, for the harsh voice of the people compelled us.

There we sons of the Achaeans waged war for nine years, and in the tenth year we sacked Priam's city and set out for home with our ships, but a god scattered the Achaeans. But for me, wretched man, Zeus the counselor devised evils. For only one month I remained, taking joy in my children, my wedded wife, and my possessions. But then my heart urged me to make a voyage to Egypt, fitting out my ships well, with my godlike companions. I fitted out nine ships, and the men gathered quickly. For six days thereafter my trusty companions feasted, and I provided many victims to sacrifice to the gods and to make a feast for themselves. On the seventh day, we embarked and sailed from the wide shores of Crete, before a fair and fresh North Wind, sailing easily, as if drifting downstream. Not one of my ships came to harm, but safe and sound we sat, while the wind and the helmsmen kept them on course. On the fifth day we came to the fair-flowing river of Egypt, and in the river Aegyptus I anchored my curved ships.

Then I commanded my trusty companions to stay there by the ships and to guard them, and I sent out scouts to the lookout points. But they, giving way to arrogance, and following their own violent urges, at once began to plunder the beautiful fields of the Egyptian men, and carried off their wives and infant children, and killed the men. And the cry soon reached the city. Hearing the shout at the coming of the dawn, they came forth; and the whole plain was filled with footmen and horsemen and the glitter of bronze. And Zeus, who delights in thunder, cast a foul panic upon my companions, and not one dared to stand and face them, for evil surrounded them on all sides. There they slew many of us with the sharp bronze, and the rest they led away alive, to work for them in bondage. But as for me, Zeus himself put this plan in my mind— would that I had died and met my fate there in Egypt, for still more suffering awaited me!— I quickly took the well-wrought helmet from my head, and the shield from my shoulders, and I cast the spear from my hand, and went to meet the chariot of the king. I clasped and kissed his knees, and he saved me and had pity on me, and setting me in his chariot, he took me to his home, weeping. Truly, many rushed at me with their ash spears, eager to kill me, for they were exceedingly enraged. But he held them back, for he stood in awe of the wrath of Zeus, god of strangers, who above all others is angered by evil deeds.

There I remained for seven years, and I gathered much wealth among the Egyptian men, for they all gave me gifts. But when the eighth revolving year arrived, a Phoenician came, a man versed in deception, a scoundrel, who had already wrought much evil among men. He took me with him, persuading me with his wiles, until we came to Phoenicia, where his house and his property lay. There I remained with him for a full year. But when the months and days had run their course, as the year came round again and the seasons returned, he put me on a seafaring ship bound for Libya, on a false pretext, saying I was to help him carry his cargo,

but in truth he meant to sell me there and gain an immense price. I followed him aboard the ship, suspecting his plan, but by necessity. And the ship ran before a fair and fresh North Wind, on a course to the south of Crete; but Zeus planned their destruction. But when we had left Crete behind, and no other land was in sight, but only sky and sea, then the son of Cronos set a dark blue cloud above our hollow ship, and the sea grew dark beneath it. And Zeus thundered and at the same time hurled his bolt into the ship, and she spun around, struck by the lightning of Zeus, and was filled with the smoke of sulphur, and all the men fell from the ship. Like sea-crows they were borne around the black ship on the waves; and the god snatched away their day of homecoming. But as for me, though my heart was filled with grief, Zeus himself placed the immense mast of the dark-prowed ship into my hands, so that I might yet escape disaster. Clinging to this, I was carried by the deadly winds.

For nine days I was carried, and on the tenth dark night a great rolling wave cast me upon the land of the Thesprotians. There the king of the Thesprotians, the hero Pheidon, took me in without payment. For his own dear son found me, exhausted by the cold and my labors, and led me to his house, raising me by the hand, until he reached his father's palace. And he clothed me in a cloak and a tunic. There I learned of Odysseus. For the king said that he had hosted him and shown him friendship on his way to his native land, and he showed me all the treasures that Odysseus had amassed, bronze and gold and laboriously wrought iron. Truly, it was enough to support another man even to the tenth generation, so great were the treasures of the king that lay in his halls. He said that Odysseus had gone to Dodona, to hear the counsel of Zeus from the god's high-crowned oak tree, as to how he should return to the rich land of Ithaca, having been long away, whether openly or in secret. And he swore an oath in my presence, pouring a libation in his house, that a ship was launched and a crew was ready, who would escort him to his own dear native land. But he sent me off before him, for a ship of Thesprotian men happened to be departing for Dulichium, rich in wheat. There he commanded them to convey me with all care to king Acastus, but an evil plan concerning me pleased their hearts, so that I might be plunged yet deeper into a sea of misery. When the seafaring ship was far from land, they at once devised for me the day of my enslavement. They stripped me of my cloak and tunic, and threw about me another wretched rag and tunic, tattered things, which you yourself see with your own eyes. At evening they reached the fields of sunny Ithaca. There they bound me fast in the well-benched ship with a stout, well-twisted rope, and they themselves disembarked and hastily took their supper on the seashore. But the gods themselves easily loosened my bonds. And covering my head with the rag, I slid down the smooth steering-oar and breasted the sea, and then with both hands I struck out, swimming, and was very quickly out of the water and away from them. Then I climbed ashore, where there was a thicket of flowering shrubs, and lay there crouching. They went about groaning loudly, but since it seemed to them of no advantage to search further, they went back on board their hollow ship. The gods themselves concealed me with ease, and leading me, they brought me to the steading of a man of wisdom; for it is still my fate to live.”

And answering him, Eumaeus, you swineherd, said: “Ah, wretched stranger, you have truly stirred my heart by telling me each of these things, all that you have suffered and all that you have wandered. But in one thing, I think, you have not spoken rightly, and you will not persuade me with your talk about Odysseus. Why must you, being as you are, lie to no purpose? I myself know well concerning my master's return, that he was utterly hated by all the gods, since they did not strike him down among the Trojans or in the arms of his friends, after he had wound up the skein of war. Then all the Achaeans would have made him a tomb, and he would have won great glory for his son thereafter. But now the Harpies have snatched him away without a word of glory. And I live apart here with the swine, and I do not go to the city, unless perhaps prudent Penelope bids me to come, whenever news arrives from somewhere. Then men sit around and question the messenger closely, both those who grieve for their long-absent master, and those who rejoice as they devour his substance without payment. But I have no taste for questioning and inquiring, ever since an Aetolian man deceived me with his story, a man who, after killing someone, wandered over much of the earth and came to my steading. And I welcomed him warmly. He said he had seen him in Crete, at the court of Idomeneus, mending his ships, which the storms had shattered. And he said he would return either in summer or in autumn, bringing much wealth, along with his godlike companions. And so you, old man of many sorrows, since a god has brought you to me, do not try to please me with lies, nor to charm me. It is not for that reason that I will respect or befriend you, but out of fear for Zeus, the god of guests, and out of pity for you.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered him and said: “Truly, the heart in your breast is one of great disbelief, since not even with an oath could I move you or persuade you. But come now, let us make a pact, and hereafter, let the gods who hold Olympus be witnesses for us both. If your master returns to this house, you will clothe me in a cloak and tunic and send me on my way to Dulichium, where it is my heart's desire to go. But if your master does not come as I say, set your servants on me and hurl me from a great cliff, so that another beggar may learn not to tell deceitful tales.”

And the divine swineherd answered him and said: “Stranger, in that way I would surely win fine repute and virtue among men, both now and in the time to come, if I, after bringing you to my hut and giving you a guest's welcome, should then turn and kill you and take away your dear life. With a ready heart then I might pray to Zeus, son of Cronos! But now it is time for supper. I hope my companions will be home soon, so that we can prepare a savory supper in the hut.”

Thus they spoke these things to one another, and soon the swine and the swineherds arrived. They drove the sows into their usual pens to sleep, and an immense din arose from the swine being yarded. Then the divine swineherd called out to his companions:

“Bring the best of the hogs, so that I may slaughter it for my guest from a distant land. And we shall have a share of the enjoyment ourselves, we who have long suffered and toiled for the sake of these white-tusked swine, while others devour our labor without payment.”

So saying, he split wood with the pitiless bronze. And they brought in a very fat five-year-old hog. Then they stood it by the hearth, and the swineherd did not forget the immortals, for he had a righteous mind. As a first offering, he cast hairs from the head of the white-tusked hog into the fire and prayed to all the gods that wise Odysseus might return to his own home. Then raising himself up, he struck it with a billet of oak which he had left when splitting the wood, and life left it. The others then cut its throat and singed it, and quickly jointed it. The swineherd laid pieces raw, taken from all the limbs, upon the rich fat. And these he cast into the fire, sprinkled with barley meal, while they sliced up the rest and spitted it on skewers, and roasted it with great care and drew it all off, and threw it all together onto platters. Then the swineherd stood up to carve, for his heart knew what was fair. And as he carved, he divided it all into seven portions. One portion, with a prayer, he set aside for the Nymphs and for Hermes, son of Maia, and the rest he distributed to each man. But he honored Odysseus with the long chine of the white-tusked hog, and so gladdened his master's heart. And Odysseus of many counsels spoke to him and said:

“Eumaeus, may you be as dear to father Zeus as you are to me, for honoring a man such as I am with this good portion.”

And answering him, Eumaeus, you swineherd, said: “Eat, my god-sent guest, and enjoy what is here before you. A god will grant one thing and withhold another, just as he wishes in his heart, for he has power over all things.”

He spoke, and offered the first cuttings to the ever-living gods, and pouring a libation of sparkling wine, he placed the cup in the hands of Odysseus, sacker of cities, who sat beside his portion. And Mesaulius served them bread, a servant whom the swineherd had acquired on his own after his master's departure, without the knowledge of his mistress or the old man Laertes, buying him from the Taphians with his own possessions. And they stretched out their hands to the good fare that lay ready before them. But when they had put aside their desire for food and drink, Mesaulius cleared away the bread, and they, sated with bread and meat, hastened to their beds.

Then came on a foul night, for the moon was dark. And Zeus rained the whole night through, and a great and rainy Zephyr always blew. Then Odysseus spoke among them, to test the swineherd, to see if he might take off his own cloak and give it to him, or urge some other of his companions to do so, since he cared for him so greatly.

“Listen now, Eumaeus and all you other companions, I will speak a boastful word, for the wine bids me, that mischievous wine, which sets even a very wise man to singing and to laughing softly, and makes him get up to dance, and brings forth some word that were better left unsaid. But since I have begun to speak out, I will not hold back. Would that I were as young and my strength as firm as when we arrayed and led an ambush below the walls of Troy. Our leaders were Odysseus and Menelaus, son of Atreus, and I was the third in command with them, for so they themselves ordered. But when we reached the city and its steep wall, we lay around the town in the dense brushwood, among the reeds and in the marsh, crouching under our armor. And a foul night came on, as the North Wind fell, a freezing night. And from above, snow fell like frost, bitterly cold, and ice formed upon our shields. There all the others had their cloaks and tunics, and slept peacefully, their shoulders wrapped in their shields. But I had foolishly left my cloak with my companions when I set out, since I did not think I would be cold at all, and so I had come with only my shield and my bright war-belt. But when it was the third watch of the night, and the stars had passed their zenith, I spoke to Odysseus, who was near me, nudging him with my elbow, and he listened at once: ‘Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many wiles, I will not be among the living much longer, for this winter cold is killing me. I have no cloak. Some spirit deluded me into coming with only a tunic, and now there is no escape.’ So I spoke, and at once this plan took shape in his mind, such a man was he for counsel and for battle. Speaking in a low voice, he said to me: ‘Be quiet now, lest some other of the Achaeans hear you.’ He spoke, and raising his head on his elbow, he said: ‘Listen, my friends, a divine dream has come to me in my sleep. We have come too far from the ships. But let someone go and tell Agamemnon, son of Atreus, shepherd of the people, to bid more men to come out from the ships.’ So he spoke, and at once Thoas, son of Andraemon, rose up swiftly and cast off his purple cloak, and ran toward the ships; and I, in his garment, lay down gladly, until golden-throned Dawn appeared. Would that I were now so young and my strength so firm; then some swineherd in this steading would give me a cloak, out of both kindness and respect for a good man. But now they scorn me for the wretched clothes upon my skin.”

And answering him, Eumaeus, you swineherd, said: “Old man, the tale you have told is excellent, and you have spoken no word that is amiss or without profit. Therefore you shall not lack for clothing, nor for anything else that a long-suffering suppliant deserves when he meets one for help, at least for tonight. But in the morning you will have to shake out your own rags. For we do not have many cloaks or changes of tunics to wear here, but only one for each man. But when the dear son of Odysseus comes, he himself will give you a cloak and tunic as clothing, and send you wherever your heart and spirit bid you go.”

So saying, he sprang up and placed a bed for him near the fire, and threw upon it the skins of sheep and goats. There Odysseus lay down. And the swineherd cast over him a cloak, thick and large, which he kept at hand as a change of covering, to wear whenever a dreadful storm should arise.

So Odysseus slept there, and beside him the young men lay down to sleep. But to the swineherd, a bed there did not please him, to sleep far from his swine, but he prepared to go outside; and Odysseus was glad that he took such care of his substance while he was away. First, he slung his sharp sword over his sturdy shoulders, then wrapped himself in a very thick cloak to keep out the wind. He also took up the fleece of a large, well-fed goat, and grasped a sharp javelin, a defense against dogs and men. And he went to lie down where the white-tusked swine slept under a hollow rock, sheltered from the North Wind.

ὈΔΎΣΣΕΙΑ 14

Αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐκ λιμένος προσέβη τρηχεῖαν ἀταρπὸν
χῶρον ἀν' ὑλήεντα δι' ἄκριας, ᾗ οἱ Ἀθήνη
πέφραδε δῖον ὑφορβόν, ὅ οἱ βιότοιο μάλιστα
κήδετο οἰκήων, οὓς κτήσατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.

τὸν δ' ἄρ' ἐνὶ προδόμῳ εὗρ' ἥμενον, ἔνθα οἱ αὐλὴ

ὑψηλὴ δέδμητο, περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,
καλή τε μεγάλη τε, περίδρομος· ἥν ῥα συβώτης
αὐτὸς δείμαθ' ὕεσσιν ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος,
νόσφιν δεσποίνης καὶ Λαέρταο γέροντος,
ῥυτοῖσιν λάεσσι καὶ ἐθρίγκωσεν ἀχέρδῳ.
σταυροὺς δ' ἐκτὸς ἔλασσε διαμπερὲς ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα
πυκνοὺς καὶ θαμέας, τὸ μέλαν δρυὸς ἀμφικεάσσας.
ἔντοσθεν δ' αὐλῆς συφεοὺς δυοκαίδεκα ποίει
πλησίον ἀλλήλων, εὐνὰς συσίν· ἐν δὲ ἑκάστῳ
πεντήκοντα σύες χαμαιευνάδες ἐρχατόωντο,
θήλειαι τοκάδες· τοὶ δ' ἄρσενες ἐκτὸς ἴαυον,
πολλὸν παυρότεροι· τοὺς γὰρ μινύθεσκον ἔδοντες
ἀντίθεοι μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ προΐαλλε συβώτης
αἰεὶ ζατρεφέων σιάλων τὸν ἄριστον ἁπάντων·
οἱ δὲ τριηκόσιοί τε καὶ ἑξήκοντα πέλοντο.
πὰρ δὲ κύνες θήρεσσιν ἐοικότες αἰὲν ἴαυον
τέσσαρες, οὓς ἔθρεψε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν.
αὐτὸς δ' ἀμφὶ πόδεσσιν ἑοῖς ἀράρισκε πέδιλα,
τάμνων δέρμα βόειον ἐϋχροές· οἱ δὲ δὴ ἄλλοι
ᾤχοντ' ἄλλυδις ἄλλος ἅμ' ἀγρομένοισι σύεσσιν,
οἱ τρεῖς· τὸν δὲ τέταρτον ἀποπροέηκε πόλινδε
σῦν ἀγέμεν μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ἀνάγκῃ,
ὄφρ' ἱερεύσαντες κρειῶν κορεσαίατο θυμόν.

ἐξαπίνης δ' Ὀδυσῆα ἴδον κύνες ὑλακόμωροι.
οἱ μὲν κεκλήγοντες ἐπέδραμον· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἕζετο κερδοσύνῃ, σκῆπτρον δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε χειρός.
ἔνθα κεν ᾧ πὰρ σταθμῷ ἀεικέλιον πάθεν ἄλγος·
ἀλλὰ συβώτης ὦκα ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι μετασπὼν
ἔσσυτ' ἀνὰ πρόθυρον, σκῦτος δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε χειρός.
τοὺς μὲν ὁμοκλήσας σεῦεν κύνας ἄλλυδις ἄλλον
πυκνῇσιν λιθάδεσσιν, ὁ δὲ προσέειπεν ἄνακτα·

«ὦ γέρον, ἦ ὀλίγου σε κύνες διεδηλήσαντο
ἐξαπίνης, καί κέν μοι ἐλεγχείην κατέχευας.
καὶ δέ μοι ἄλλα θεοὶ δόσαν ἄλγεά τε στοναχάς τε·
ἀντιθέου γὰρ ἄνακτος ὀδυρόμενος καὶ ἀχεύων
ἧμαι, ἄλλοισιν δὲ σύας σιάλους ἀτιτάλλω
ἔδμεναι· αὐτὰρ κεῖνος ἐελδόμενός που ἐδωδῆς
πλάζετ' ἐπ' ἀλλοθρόων ἀνδρῶν δῆμόν τε πόλιν τε,
εἴ που ἔτι ζώει καὶ ὁρᾷ φάος ἠελίοιο.
ἀλλ' ἕπεο, κλισίηνδ' ἴομεν, γέρον, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτός,
σίτου καὶ οἴνοιο κορεσσάμενος κατὰ θυμόν,
εἴπῃς, ὁππόθεν ἐσσὶ καὶ ὁππόσα κήδε' ἀνέτλης.»

ὣς εἰπὼν κλισίηνδ' ἡγήσατο δῖος ὑφορβός,
εἷσεν δ' εἰσαγαγών, ῥῶπας δ' ὑπέχευε δασείας,
ἐστόρεσεν δ' ἐπὶ δέρμα ἰονθάδος ἀγρίου αἰγός,
αὐτοῦ ἐνεύναιον, μέγα καὶ δασύ. χαῖρε δ' Ὀδυσσεύς,
ὅττι μιν ὣς ὑπέδεκτο, ἔπος τ' ἔφατ' ἔκ τ' ὀνόμαζε·

«Ζεύς τοι δοίη, ξεῖνε, καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι,
ὅττι μάλιστ' ἐθέλεις, ὅτι με πρόφρων ὑπέδεξο.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
«ξεῖν', οὔ μοι θέμις ἔστ', οὐδ' εἰ κακίων σέθεν ἔλθοι,
ξεῖνον ἀτιμῆσαι· πρὸς γὰρ Διός εἰσιν ἅπαντες
ξεῖνοί τε πτωχοί τε. δόσις δ' ὀλίγη τε φίλη τε
γίνεται ἡμετέρη· ἡ γὰρ δμώων δίκη ἐστίν,
αἰεὶ δειδιότων, ὅτ' ἐπικρατέωσιν ἄνακτες
οἱ νέοι. ἦ γὰρ τοῦ γε θεοὶ κατὰ νόστον ἔδησαν,
ὅς κεν ἔμ' ἐνδυκέως ἐφίλει καὶ κτῆσιν ὄπασσεν,
οἷά τε ᾧ οἰκῆϊ ἄναξ εὔθυμος ἔδωκεν,
οἶκόν τε κλῆρόν τε πολυμνήστην τε γυναῖκα,
ὅς οἱ πολλὰ κάμῃσι, θεὸς δ' ἐπὶ ἔργον ἀέξῃ,
ὡς καὶ ἐμοὶ τόδε ἔργον ἀέξεται, ᾧ ἐπιμίμνω.
τῶ κέ με πόλλ' ὤνησεν ἄναξ, εἰ αὐτόθ' ἐγήρα·
ἀλλ' ὄλεθ'. ὡς ὤφελλ' Ἑλένης ἀπὸ φῦλον ὀλέσθαι
πρόχνυ, ἐπεὶ πολλῶν ἀνδρῶν ὑπὸ γούνατ' ἔλυσε·
καὶ γὰρ κεῖνος ἔβη Ἀγαμέμνονος εἵνεκα τιμῆς
Ἴλιον εἰς εὔπωλον, ἵνα Τρώεσσι μάχοιτο.»

ὣς εἰπὼν ζωστῆρι θοῶς συνέεργε χιτῶνα,
βῆ δ' ἴμεν ἐς συφεούς, ὅθι ἔθνεα ἔρχατο χοίρων.
ἔνθεν ἑλὼν δύ' ἔνεικε καὶ ἀμφοτέρους ἱέρευσεν,
εὗσέ τε μίστυλλέν τε καὶ ἀμφ' ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειρεν.
ὀπτήσας δ' ἄρα πάντα φέρων παρέθηκ' Ὀδυσῆϊ
θέρμ' αὐτοῖσ' ὀβελοῖσιν, ὁ δ' ἄλφιτα λευκὰ πάλυνεν.
ἐν δ' ἄρα κισσυβίῳ κίρνη μελιηδέα οἶνον,
αὐτὸς δ' ἀντίον ἷζεν, ἐποτρύνων δὲ προσηύδα·

«ἔσθιε νῦν, ὦ ξεῖνε, τά τε δμώεσσι πάρεστι,
χοίρε'· ἀτὰρ σιάλους γε σύας μνηστῆρες ἔδουσιν,
οὐκ ὄπιδα φρονέοντες ἐνὶ φρεσὶν οὐδ' ἐλεητύν.
οὐ μὲν σχέτλια ἔργα θεοὶ μάκαρες φιλέουσιν,
ἀλλὰ δίκην τίουσι καὶ αἴσιμα ἔργ' ἀνθρώπων.
καὶ μὲν δυσμενέες καὶ ἀνάρσιοι, οἵ τ' ἐπὶ γαίης
ἀλλοτρίης βῶσιν καί σφιν Ζεὺς ληΐδα δώῃ,
πλησάμενοι δέ τε νῆας ἔβαν οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι, -
καὶ μὲν τοῖσ' ὄπιδος κρατερὸν δέος ἐν φρεσὶ πίπτει·
οἵδε δέ τοι ἴσασι, θεοῦ δέ τιν' ἔκλυον αὐδήν,
κείνου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον, ὅ τ' οὐκ ἐθέλουσι δικαίως
μνᾶσθαι οὐδὲ νέεσθαι ἐπὶ σφέτερ', ἀλλὰ ἕκηλοι
κτήματα δαρδάπτουσιν ὑπέρβιον, οὐδ' ἔπι φειδώ.
ὅσσαι γὰρ νύκτες τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐκ Διός εἰσιν,
οὔ ποθ' ἓν ἱρεύουσ' ἱερήϊον οὐδὲ δύ' οἶα·
οἶνον δὲ φθινύθουσιν ὑπέρβιον ἐξαφύοντες.
ἦ γάρ οἱ ζωή γ' ἦν ἄσπετος· οὔ τινι τόσση
ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, οὔτ' ἠπείροιο μελαίνης
οὔτ' αὐτῆς Ἰθάκης· οὐδὲ ξυνεείκοσι φωτῶν
ἔστ' ἄφενος τοσσοῦτον· ἐγὼ δέ κέ τοι καταλέξω.
δώδεκ' ἐν ἠπείρῳ ἀγέλαι· τόσα πώεα οἰῶν,
τόσσα συῶν συβόσια, τόσ' αἰπόλια πλατέ' αἰγῶν
βόσκουσι ξεῖνοί τε καὶ αὐτοῦ βώτορες ἄνδρες·
ἐνθάδε τ' αἰπόλια πλατέ' αἰγῶν ἕνδεκα πάντα
ἐσχατιῇ βόσκοντ', ἐπὶ δ' ἀνέρες ἐσθλοὶ ὄρονται.
τῶν αἰεί σφιν ἕκαστος ἐπ' ἤματι μῆλον ἀγινεῖ,
ζατρεφέων αἰγῶν ὅς τις φαίνηται ἄριστος.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σῦς τάσδε φυλάσσω τε ῥύομαί τε
καί σφι συῶν τὸν ἄριστον ἐῢ κρίνας ἀποπέμπω.»

ὣς φάθ'· ὁ δ' ἐνδυκέως κρέα τ' ἤσθιε πῖνέ τε οἶνον,
ἁρπαλέως ἀκέων, κακὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσι φύτευεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δείπνησε καὶ ἤραρε θυμὸν ἐδωδῇ,
καί οἱ πλησάμενος δῶκε σκύφος, ᾧ περ ἔπινεν,
οἴνου ἐνίπλειον· ὁ δ' ἐδέξατο, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

«ὦ φίλε, τίς γάρ σε πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν,
ὧδε μάλ' ἀφνειὸς καὶ καρτερός, ὡς ἀγορεύεις;
φῂς δ' αὐτὸν φθίσθαι Ἀγαμέμνονος εἵνεκα τιμῆς.
εἰπέ μοι, αἴ κέ ποθι γνώω τοιοῦτον ἐόντα.
Ζεὺς γάρ που τό γε οἶδε καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι,
εἴ κέ μιν ἀγγείλαιμι ἰδών· ἐπὶ πολλὰ δ' ἀλήθην.»

τὸν δ' ἠμείβετ' ἔπειτα συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·
«ὦ γέρον, οὔ τις κεῖνον ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν
ἀγγέλλων πείσειε γυναῖκά τε καὶ φίλον υἱόν,
ἀλλ' ἄλλως, κομιδῆς κεχρημένοι, ἄνδρες ἀλῆται
ψεύδοντ' οὐδ' ἐθέλουσιν ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι.
ὃς δέ κ' ἀλητεύων Ἰθάκης ἐς δῆμον ἵκηται,
ἐλθὼν ἐς δέσποιναν ἐμὴν ἀπατήλια βάζει·
ἡ δ' εὖ δεξαμένη φιλέει καὶ ἕκαστα μεταλλᾷ,
καί οἱ ὀδυρομένῃ βλεφάρων ἄπο δάκρυα πίπτει,
ἣ θέμις ἐστὶ γυναικός, ἐπὴν πόσις ἄλλοθ' ὄληται.
αἶψά κε καὶ σύ, γεραιέ, ἔπος παρατεκτήναιο,
εἴ τίς τοι χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα δοίη.
τοῦ δ' ἤδη μέλλουσι κύνες ταχέες τ' οἰωνοὶ
ῥινὸν ἀπ' ὀστεόφιν ἐρύσαι, ψυχὴ δὲ λέλοιπεν·
ἢ τόν γ' ἐν πόντῳ φάγον ἰχθύες, ὀστέα δ' αὐτοῦ
κεῖται ἐπ' ἠπείρου ψαμάθῳ εἰλυμένα πολλῇ.
ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθ' ἀπόλωλε, φίλοισι δὲ κήδε' ὀπίσσω
πᾶσιν, ἐμοὶ δὲ μάλιστα, τετεύχαται· οὐ γὰρ ἔτ' ἄλλον
ἤπιον ὧδε ἄνακτα κιχήσομαι, ὁππόσ' ἐπέλθω,
οὐδ' εἴ κεν πατρὸς καὶ μητέρος αὖτις ἵκωμαι
οἶκον, ὅθι πρῶτον γενόμην καί μ' ἔτρεφον αὐτοί.
οὐδέ νυ τῶν ἔτι τόσσον ὀδύρομαι, ἱέμενός περ
ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδέσθαι ἐὼν ἐν πατρίδι γαίῃ·
ἀλλά μ' Ὀδυσσῆος πόθος αἴνυται οἰχομένοιο.
τὸν μὲν ἐγών, ὦ ξεῖνε, καὶ οὐ παρεόντ' ὀνομάζειν
αἰδέομαι· περὶ γάρ μ' ἐφίλει καὶ κήδετο θυμῷ·
ἀλλά μιν ἠθεῖον καλέω καὶ νόσφιν ἐόντα.»

τὸν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὦ φίλ', ἐπεὶ δὴ πάμπαν ἀναίνεαι οὐδ' ἔτι φῇσθα
κεῖνον ἐλεύσεσθαι, θυμὸς δέ τοι αἰὲν ἄπιστος·

ἀλλ' ἐγὼ οὐκ αὔτως μυθήσομαι, ἀλλὰ σὺν ὅρκῳ,
ὡς νεῖται Ὀδυσεύς· εὐαγγέλιον δέ μοι ἔστω
αὐτίκ', ἐπεί κεν κεῖνος ἰὼν τὰ ἃ δώμαθ' ἵκηται·
ἕσσαι με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, εἵματα καλά·
πρὶν δέ κε, καὶ μάλα περ κεχρημένος, οὔ τι δεχοίμην.
ἐχθρὸς γάρ μοι κεῖνος ὁμῶς Ἀΐδαο πύλῃσι
γίνεται, ὃς πενίῃ εἴκων ἀπατήλια βάζει.
ἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα θεῶν ξενίη τε τράπεζα
ἱστίη τ' Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ἣν ἀφικάνω·
ἦ μέν τοι τάδε πάντα τελείεται ὡς ἀγορεύω.
τοῦδ' αὐτοῦ λυκάβαντος ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδ' Ὀδυσσεύς,
τοῦ μὲν φθίνοντος μηνός, τοῦ δ' ἱσταμένοιο,
οἴκαδε νοστήσας, καὶ τείσεται, ὅς τις ἐκείνου
ἐνθάδ' ἀτιμάζει ἄλοχον καὶ φαίδιμον υἱόν.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
«ὦ γέρον, οὔτ' ἄρ' ἐγὼν εὐαγγέλιον τόδε τείσω
οὔτ' Ὀδυσεὺς ἔτι οἶκον ἐλεύσεται· ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος
πῖνε, καὶ ἄλλα παρὲξ μεμνώμεθα, μηδέ με τούτων
μίμνῃσκ'· ἦ γὰρ θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐμοῖσιν
ἄχνυται, ὁππότε τις μνήσῃ κεδνοῖο ἄνακτος.
ἀλλ' ἦ τοι ὅρκον μὲν ἐάσομεν, αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἔλθοι, ὅπως μιν ἐγώ γ' ἐθέλω καὶ Πηνελόπεια
Λαέρτης θ' ὁ γέρων καὶ Τηλέμαχος θεοειδής.
νῦν αὖ παιδὸς ἄλαστον ὀδύρομαι, ὃν τέκ' Ὀδυσσεύς,
Τηλεμάχου. τὸν ἐπεὶ θρέψαν θεοὶ ἔρνεϊ ἶσον,
καί μιν ἔφην ἔσσεσθαι ἐν ἀνδράσιν οὔ τι χέρεια
πατρὸς ἑοῖο φίλοιο, δέμας καὶ εἶδος ἀγητόν,
τὸν δέ τις ἀθανάτων βλάψε φρένας ἔνδον ἐΐσας
ἠέ τις ἀνθρώπων· ὁ δ' ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν
ἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην· τὸν δὲ μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοὶ
οἴκαδ' ἰόντα λοχῶσιν, ὅπως ἀπὸ φῦλον ὄληται
νώνυμον ἐξ Ἰθάκης Ἀρκεισίου ἀντιθέοιο.
ἀλλ' ἦ τοι κεῖνον μὲν ἐάσομεν, ἤ κεν ἁλώῃ
ἦ κε φύγῃ καί κέν οἱ ὑπέρσχῃ χεῖρα Κρονίων.
ἀλλ' ἄγε μοι σύ, γεραιέ, τὰ σ' αὐτοῦ κήδε' ἐνίσπες
καί μοι τοῦτ' ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρ' ἐῢ εἰδῶ·
τίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;
ὁπποίης τ' ἐπὶ νηὸς ἀφίκεο; πῶς δέ σε ναῦται
ἤγαγον εἰς Ἰθάκην; τίνες ἔμμεναι εὐχετόωντο;
οὐ μὲν γάρ τί σε πεζὸν ὀΐομαι ἐνθάδ' ἱκέσθαι.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μάλ' ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
εἴη μὲν νῦν νῶϊν ἐπὶ χρόνον ἠμὲν ἐδωδὴ
ἠδὲ μέθυ γλυκερὸν κλισίης ἔντοσθεν ἐοῦσι
δαίνυσθαι ἀκέοντ', ἄλλοι δ' ἐπὶ ἔργον ἕποιεν·
ῥηϊδίως κεν ἔπειτα καὶ εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν ἅπαντα
οὔ τι διαπρήξαιμι λέγων ἐμὰ κήδεα θυμοῦ,
ὅσσα γε δὴ ξύμπαντα θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησα.

ἐκ μὲν Κρητάων γένος εὔχομαι εὐρειάων,
ἀνέρος ἀφνειοῖο πάϊς· πολλοὶ δὲ καὶ ἄλλοι
υἷες ἐνὶ μεγάρῳ ἠμὲν τράφον ἠδ' ἐγένοντο
γνήσιοι ἐξ ἀλόχου· ἐμὲ δ' ὠνητὴ τέκε μήτηρ
παλλακίς, ἀλλά με ἶσον ἰθαιγενέεσσιν ἐτίμα
Κάστωρ Ὑλακίδης, τοῦ ἐγὼ γένος εὔχομαι εἶναι·
ὃς τότ' ἐνὶ Κρήτεσσι θεὸς ὣς τίετο δήμῳ
ὄλβῳ τε πλούτῳ τε καὶ υἱάσι κυδαλίμοισιν.
ἀλλ' ἦ τοι τὸν κῆρες ἔβαν θανάτοιο φέρουσαι
εἰς Ἀΐδαο δόμους· τοὶ δὲ ζωὴν ἐδάσαντο
παῖδες ὑπέρθυμοι καὶ ἐπὶ κλήρους ἐβάλοντο,
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ μάλα παῦρα δόσαν καὶ οἰκί' ἔνειμαν.
ἠγαγόμην δὲ γυναῖκα πολυκλήρων ἀνθρώπων
εἵνεκ' ἐμῆς ἀρετῆς. ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἀποφώλιος ἦα
οὐδὲ φυγοπτόλεμος· νῦν δ' ἤδη πάντα λέλοιπεν·
ἀλλ' ἔμπης καλάμην γέ σ' ὀΐομαι εἰσορόωντα
γινώσκειν· ἦ γάρ με δύη ἔχει ἤλιθα πολλή.
ἦ μὲν δὴ θάρσος μοι Ἄρης τ' ἔδοσαν καὶ Ἀθήνη
καὶ ῥηξηνορίην· ὁπότε κρίνοιμι λόχονδε
ἄνδρας ἀριστῆας, κακὰ δυσμενέεσσι φυτεύων,
οὔ ποτέ μοι θάνατον προτιόσσετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ,
ἀλλὰ πολὺ πρώτιστος ἐπάλμενος ἔγχει ἕλεσκον
ἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων ὅ τέ μοι εἴξειε πόδεσσι.
τοῖος ἔα ἐν πολέμῳ· ἔργον δέ μοι οὐ φίλον ἔσκεν
οὐδ' οἰκωφελίη, ἥ τε τρέφει ἀγλαὰ τέκνα,
ἀλλά μοι αἰεὶ νῆες ἐπήρετμοι φίλαι ἦσαν
καὶ πόλεμοι καὶ ἄκοντες ἐΰξεστοι καὶ ὀϊστοί,
λυγρά, τά τ' ἄλλοισίν γε καταῤῥιγηλὰ πέλονται.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τὰ φίλ' ἔσκε, τά που θεὸς ἐν φρεσὶ θῆκεν·
ἄλλος γάρ τ' ἄλλοισιν ἀνὴρ ἐπιτέρπεται ἔργοις.

πρὶν μὲν γὰρ Τροίης ἐπιβήμεναι υἷας Ἀχαιῶν
εἰνάκις ἀνδράσιν ἦρξα καὶ ὠκυπόροισι νέεσσιν
ἄνδρας ἐς ἀλλοδαπούς, καί μοι μάλα τύγχανε πολλά.
τῶν ἐξαιρεύμην μενοεικέα, πολλὰ δ' ὀπίσσω
λάγχανον· αἶψα δὲ οἶκος ὀφέλλετο, καί ῥα ἔπειτα
δεινός τ' αἰδοῖός τε μετὰ Κρήτεσσι τετύγμην.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ τήν γε στυγερὴν ὁδὸν εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς
ἐφράσαθ', ἣ πολλῶν ἀνδρῶν ὑπὸ γούνατ' ἔλυσε,
δὴ τότ' ἔμ' ἤνωγον καὶ ἀγακλυτὸν Ἰδομενῆα
νήεσσ' ἡγήσασθαι ἐς Ἴλιον· οὐδέ τι μῆχος
ἦεν ἀνήνασθαι, χαλεπὴ δ' ἔχε δήμου φῆμις.

ἔνθα μὲν εἰνάετες πολεμίζομεν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
τῷ δεκάτῳ δὲ πόλιν Πριάμου πέρσαντες ἔβημεν
οἴκαδε σὺν νήεσσι, θεὸς δ' ἐκέδασσεν Ἀχαιούς.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ δειλῷ κακὰ μήδετο μητίετα Ζεύς·
μῆνα γὰρ οἶον ἔμεινα τεταρπόμενος τεκέεσσι
κουριδίῃ τ' ἀλόχῳ καὶ κτήμασιν· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
Αἴγυπτόνδε με θυμὸς ἀνώγει ναυτίλλεσθαι,
νῆας ἐῢ στείλαντα, σὺν ἀντιθέοισ' ἑτάροισιν.
ἐννέα νῆας στεῖλα, θοῶς δ' ἐσαγείρετο λαός.
ἑξῆμαρ μὲν ἔπειτα ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι
δαίνυντ'· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἱερήϊα πολλὰ παρεῖχον
θεοῖσίν τε ῥέζειν αὐτοῖσί τε δαῖτα πένεσθαι.
ἑβδομάτῃ δ' ἀναβάντες ἀπὸ Κρήτης εὐρείης
ἐπλέομεν βορέῃ ἀνέμῳ ἀκραέϊ καλῷ
ῥηϊδίως, ὡς εἴ τε κατὰ ῥόον· οὐδέ τις οὖν μοι
νηῶν πημάνθη, ἀλλ' ἀσκηθέες καὶ ἄνουσοι
ἥμεθα, τὰς δ' ἄνεμός τε κυβερνῆταί τ' ἴθυνον.
πεμπταῖοι δ' Αἴγυπτον ἐϋῤῥείτην ἱκόμεσθα,
στῆσα δ' ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ ποταμῷ νέας ἀμφιελίσσας.

ἔνθ' ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ κελόμην ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους
αὐτοῦ πὰρ νήεσσι μένειν καὶ νῆας ἔρυσθαι,
ὀπτῆρας δὲ κατὰ σκοπιὰς ὤτρυνα νέεσθαι·
οἱ δ' ὕβρει εἴξαντες, ἐπισπόμενοι μένεϊ σφῷ,
αἶψα μάλ' Αἰγυπτίων ἀνδρῶν περικαλλέας ἀγροὺς
πόρθεον, ἐκ δὲ γυναῖκας ἄγον καὶ νήπια τέκνα,
αὐτούς τ' ἔκτεινον· τάχα δ' ἐς πόλιν ἵκετ' ἀϋτή.
οἱ δὲ βοῆς ἀΐοντες ἅμ' ἠόϊ φαινομένηφι
ἦλθον· πλῆτο δὲ πᾶν πεδίον πεζῶν τε καὶ ἵππων
χαλκοῦ τε στεροπῆς. ἐν δὲ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος
φύζαν ἐμοῖσ' ἑτάροισι κακὴν βάλεν, οὐδέ τις ἔτλη
μεῖναι ἐναντίβιον· περὶ γὰρ κακὰ πάντοθεν ἔστη.
ἔνθ' ἡμέων πολλοὺς μὲν ἀπέκτανον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
τοὺς δ' ἄναγον ζωούς, σφίσιν ἐργάζεσθαι ἀνάγκῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ Ζεὺς αὐτὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ὧδε νόημα
ποίησ'· - ὡς ὄφελον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν
αὐτοῦ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ· ἔτι γάρ νύ με πῆμ' ὑπέδεκτο· -
αὐτίκ' ἀπὸ κρατὸς κυνέην εὔτυκτον ἔθηκα
καὶ σάκος ὤμοιϊν, δόρυ δ' ἔκβαλον ἔκτοσε χειρός·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ βασιλῆος ἐναντίον ἤλυθον ἵππων
καὶ κύσα γούναθ' ἑλών· ὁ δ' ἐρύσατο καί μ' ἐλέησεν,
ἐς δίφρον δέ μ' ἕσας ἄγεν οἴκαδε δάκρυ χέοντα.
ἦ μέν μοι μάλα πολλοὶ ἐπήϊσσον μελίῃσιν,
ἱέμενοι κτεῖναι· δὴ γὰρ κεχολώατο λίην·
ἀλλ' ἀπὸ κεῖνος ἔρυκε, Διὸς δ' ὠπίζετο μῆνιν
ξεινίου, ὅς τε μάλιστα νεμεσσᾶται κακὰ ἔργα.

ἔνθα μὲν ἑπτάετες μένον αὐτόθι, πολλὰ δ' ἄγειρα
χρήματ' ἀν' Αἰγυπτίους ἄνδρας· δίδοσαν γὰρ ἅπαντες.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ ὄγδοόν μοι ἐπιπλόμενον ἔτος ἦλθε,
δὴ τότε Φοῖνιξ ἦλθεν ἀνὴρ ἀπατήλια εἰδώς,
τρώκτης, ὃς δὴ πολλὰ κάκ' ἀνθρώπους ἐεόργει·
ὅς μ' ἄγε παρπεπιθὼν ᾗσι φρεσίν, ὄφρ' ἱκόμεσθα
Φοινίκην, ὅθι τοῦ γε δόμοι καὶ κτήματ' ἔκειτο.
ἔνθα παρ' αὐτῷ μεῖνα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτόν.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ μῆνές τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐξετελεῦντο
ἂψ περιτελλομένου ἔτεος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,
ἐς Λιβύην μ' ἐπὶ νηὸς ἐφέσσατο ποντοπόροιο,
ψεύδεα βουλεύσας, ἵνα οἱ σὺν φόρτον ἄγοιμι,

κεῖθι δέ μ' ὡς περάσειε καὶ ἄσπετον ὦνον ἕλοιτο.
τῷ ἑπόμην ἐπὶ νηός, ὀϊόμενός περ, ἀνάγκῃ.
ἡ δ' ἔθεεν βορέῃ ἀνέμῳ ἀκραέϊ καλῷ
μέσσον ὑπὲρ Κρήτης· Ζεὺς δέ σφισι μήδετ' ὄλεθρον.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ Κρήτην μὲν ἐλείπομεν, οὐδέ τις ἄλλη
φαίνετο γαιάων, ἀλλ' οὐρανὸς ἠδὲ θάλασσα,
δὴ τότε κυανέην νεφέλην ἔστησε Κρονίων
νηὸς ὕπερ γλαφυρῆς, ἤχλυσε δὲ πόντος ὑπ' αὐτῆς.
Ζεὺς δ' ἄμυδις βρόντησε καὶ ἔμβαλε νηῒ κεραυνόν·
ἡ δ' ἐλελίχθη πᾶσα Διὸς πληγεῖσα κεραυνῷ,
ἐν δὲ θεείου πλῆτο· πέσον δ' ἐκ νηὸς ἅπαντες.
οἱ δὲ κορώνῃσιν ἴκελοι περὶ νῆα μέλαιναν
κύμασιν ἐμφορέοντο· θεὸς δ' ἀποαίνυτο νόστον.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ Ζεὺς αὐτός, ἔχοντί περ ἄλγεα θυμῷ,
ἱστὸν ἀμαιμάκετον νηὸς κυανοπρῴροιο
ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔθηκεν, ὅπως ἔτι πῆμα φύγοιμι.
τῷ ῥα περιπλεχθεὶς φερόμην ὀλοοῖσ' ἀνέμοισιν.

ἐννῆμαρ φερόμην, δεκάτῃ δέ με νυκτὶ μελαίνῃ
γαίῃ Θεσπρωτῶν πέλασεν μέγα κῦμα κυλίνδον.
ἔνθα με Θεσπρωτῶν βασιλεὺς ἐκομίσσατο Φείδων
ἥρως ἀπριάτην· τοῦ γὰρ φίλος υἱὸς ἐπελθὼν
αἴθρῳ καὶ καμάτῳ δεδμημένον ἦγεν ἐς οἶκον,
χειρὸς ἀναστήσας, ὄφρ' ἵκετο δώματα πατρός·
ἀμφὶ δέ με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα ἕσσεν.
ἔνθ' Ὀδυσῆος ἐγὼ πυθόμην· κεῖνος γὰρ ἔφασκε
ξεινίσαι ἠδὲ φιλῆσαι ἰόντ' ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
καί μοι κτήματ' ἔδειξεν, ὅσα ξυναγείρατ' Ὀδυσσεύς,
χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε πολύκμητόν τε σίδηρον.
καί νύ κεν ἐς δεκάτην γενεὴν ἕτερόν γ' ἔτι βόσκοι·
τόσσα οἱ ἐν μεγάροις κειμήλια κεῖτο ἄνακτος.
τὸν δ' ἐς Δωδώνην φάτο βήμεναι, ὄφρα θεοῖο
ἐκ δρυὸς ὑψικόμοιο Διὸς βουλὴν ἐπακούσαι,
ὅππως νοστήσει' Ἰθάκης ἐς πίονα δῆμον,
ἤδη δὴν ἀπεών, ἢ ἀμφαδὸν ἦε κρυφηδόν.
ὤμοσε δὲ πρὸς ἔμ' αὐτόν, ἀποσπένδων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
νῆα κατειρύσθαι καὶ ἐπαρτέας ἔμμεν ἑταίρους,
οἳ δή μιν πέμψουσι φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ἀλλ' ἐμὲ πρὶν ἀπέπεμψε· τύχησε γὰρ ἐρχομένη νηῦς
ἀνδρῶν Θεσπρωτῶν ἐς Δουλίχιον πολύπυρον.
ἔνθ' ὅ γέ μ' ἠνώγει πέμψαι βασιλῆϊ Ἀκάστῳ
ἐνδυκέως· τοῖσιν δὲ κακὴ φρεσὶν ἥνδανε βουλὴ
ἀμφ' ἐμοί, ὄφρ' ἔτι πάγχυ δύης ἐπὶ πῆμα γενοίμην.
ἀλλ' ὅτε γαίης πολλὸν ἀπέπλω ποντοπόρος νηῦς,
αὐτίκα δούλιον ἦμαρ ἐμοὶ περιμηχανόωντο.
ἐκ μέν με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματ' ἔδυσαν,
ἀμφὶ δέ με ῥάκος ἄλλο κακὸν βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,
ῥωγαλέα, τὰ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὅρηαι.
ἑσπέριοι δ' Ἰθάκης εὐδειέλου ἔργ' ἀφίκοντο.
ἔνθ' ἐμὲ μὲν κατέδησαν ἐϋσσέλμῳ ἐνὶ νηῒ
ὅπλῳ ἐϋστρεφέϊ στερεῶς, αὐτοὶ δ' ἀποβάντες
ἐσσυμένως παρὰ θῖνα θαλάσσης δόρπον ἕλοντο.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ δεσμὸν μὲν ἀνέγναμψαν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ
ῥηϊδίως· κεφαλῇ δὲ κατὰ ῥάκος ἀμφικαλύψας,
ξεστὸν ἐφόλκαιον καταβὰς ἐπέλασσα θαλάσσῃ
στῆθος, ἔπειτα δὲ χερσὶ διήρεσα ἀμφοτέρῃσι
νηχόμενος, μάλα δ' ὦκα θύρηθ' ἔα ἀμφὶς ἐκείνων.
ἔνθ' ἀναβάς, ὅθι τε δρίος ἦν πολυανθέος ὕλης,
κείμην πεπτηώς. οἱ δὲ μεγάλα στενάχοντες
φοίτων· ἀλλ' οὐ γάρ σφιν ἐφαίνετο κέρδιον εἶναι
μαίεσθαι προτέρω, τοὶ μὲν πάλιν αὖτις ἔβαινον
νηὸς ἔπι γλαφυρῆς· ἐμὲ δ' ἔκρυψαν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ
ῥηϊδίως, καί με σταθμῷ ἐπέλασσαν ἄγοντες
ἀνδρὸς ἐπισταμένου· ἔτι γάρ νύ μοι αἶσα βιῶναι.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
«ἆ δειλὲ ξείνων, ἦ μοι μάλα θυμὸν ὄρινας
ταῦτα ἕκαστα λέγων, ὅσα δὴ πάθες ἠδ' ὅσ' ἀλήθης.
ἀλλὰ τά γ' οὐ κατὰ κόσμον, ὀΐομαι, οὐδέ με πείσεις,
εἰπὼν ἀμφ' Ὀδυσῆϊ. τί σε χρὴ τοῖον ἐόντα
μαψιδίως ψεύδεσθαι; ἐγὼ δ' ἐῢ οἶδα καὶ αὐτὸς
νόστον ἐμοῖο ἄνακτος, ὅ τ' ἤχθετο πᾶσι θεοῖσι
πάγχυ μάλ', ὅττι μιν οὔ τι μετὰ Τρώεσσι δάμασσαν
ἠὲ φίλων ἐν χερσίν, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσε.
τῶ κέν οἱ τύμβον μὲν ἐποίησαν Παναχαιοί,
ἠδέ κε καὶ ᾧ παιδὶ μέγα κλέος ἤρατ' ὀπίσσω.
νῦν δέ μιν ἀκλειῶς Ἅρπυιαι ἀνηρέψαντο.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ παρ' ὕεσσιν ἀπότροπος· οὐδὲ πόλινδε
ἔρχομαι, εἰ μή πού τι περίφρων Πηνελόπεια
ἐλθέμεν ὀτρύνῃσιν, ὅτ' ἀγγελίη ποθὲν ἔλθῃ.
ἀλλ' οἱ μὲν τὰ ἕκαστα παρήμενοι ἐξερέουσιν,
ἠμὲν οἳ ἄχνυνται δὴν οἰχομένοιο ἄνακτος,
ἠδ' οἳ χαίρουσιν βίοτον νήποινον ἔδοντες·
ἀλλ' ἐμοὶ οὐ φίλον ἐστὶ μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι,
ἐξ οὗ δή μ' Αἰτωλὸς ἀνὴρ ἐξήπαφε μύθῳ,
ὅς ῥ' ἄνδρα κτείνας πολλὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἀληθεὶς
ἤλυθ' ἐμὸν πρὸς σταθμόν· ἐγὼ δέ μιν ἀμφαγάπαζον.
φῆ δέ μιν ἐν Κρήτεσσι παρ' Ἰδομενῆϊ ἰδέσθαι
νῆας ἀκειόμενον, τάς οἱ ξυνέαξαν ἄελλαι·
καὶ φάτ' ἐλεύσεσθαι ἢ ἐς θέρος ἢ ἐς ὀπώρην,
πολλὰ χρήματ' ἄγοντα, σὺν ἀντιθέοισ' ἑτάροισι.
καὶ σύ, γέρον πολυπενθές, ἐπεί σέ μοι ἤγαγε δαίμων,
μήτε τί μοι ψεύδεσσι χαρίζεο μήτε τι θέλγε·
οὐ γὰρ τοὔνεκ' ἐγώ σ' αἰδέσσομαι οὐδὲ φιλήσω,
ἀλλὰ Δία ξένιον δείσας αὐτόν τ' ἐλεαίρων.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ἦ μάλα τίς τοι θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἄπιστος,
οἷόν σ' οὐδ' ὀμόσας περ ἐπήγαγον οὐδέ σε πείθω.
ἀλλ' ἄγε νῦν ῥήτρην ποιησόμεθ'· αὐτὰρ ὄπισθεν
μάρτυροι ἀμφοτέροισι θεοί, τοὶ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν.
εἰ μέν κεν νοστήσῃ ἄναξ τεὸς ἐς τόδε δῶμα,
ἕσσας με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα πέμψαι
Δουλίχιόνδ' ἰέναι, ὅθι μοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ·
εἰ δέ κε μὴ ἔλθῃσιν ἄναξ τεὸς ὡς ἀγορεύω,
δμῶας ἐπισσεύας βαλέειν μεγάλης κατὰ πέτρης,
ὄφρα καὶ ἄλλος πτωχὸς ἀλεύεται ἠπεροπεύειν.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσεφώνεε δῖος ὑφορβός·
«ξεῖν', οὕτω γάρ κέν μοι ἐϋκλείη τ' ἀρετή τε
εἴη ἐπ' ἀνθρώπους, ἅμα τ' αὐτίκα καὶ μετέπειτα,
ὅς σ' ἐπεὶ ἐς κλισίην ἄγαγον καὶ ξείνια δῶκα,
αὖτις δὲ κτείναιμι φίλον τ' ἀπὸ θυμὸν ἑλοίμην·
πρόφρων κεν δὴ ἔπειτα Δία Κρονίωνα λιτοίμην.
νῦν δ' ὥρη δόρποιο· τάχιστά μοι ἔνδον ἑταῖροι
εἶεν, ἵν' ἐν κλισίῃ λαρὸν τετυκοίμεθα δόρπον.»

ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
ἀγχίμολον δὲ σύες τε καὶ ἀνέρες ἦλθον ὑφορβοί.
τὰς μὲν ἄρα ἔρξαν κατὰ ἤθεα κοιμηθῆναι,
κλαγγὴ δ' ἄσπετος ὦρτο συῶν αὐλιζομενάων.
αὐτὰρ ὁ οἷσ' ἑτάροισιν ἐκέκλετο δῖος ὑφορβός·

«ἄξεθ' ὑῶν τὸν ἄριστον, ἵνα ξείνῳ ἱερεύσω
τηλεδαπῷ· πρὸς δ' αὐτοὶ ὀνησόμεθ', οἵ περ ὀϊζὺν
δὴν ἔχομεν πάσχοντες ὑῶν ἕνεκ' ἀργιοδόντων·
ἄλλοι δ' ἡμέτερον κάματον νήποινον ἔδουσιν.»

ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας κέασε ξύλα νηλέϊ χαλκῷ·
οἱ δ' ὗν εἰσῆγον μάλα πίονα πενταέτηρον.
τὸν μὲν ἔπειτ' ἔστησαν ἐπ' ἐσχάρῃ· οὐδὲ συβώτης
λήθετ' ἄρ' ἀθανάτων· φρεσὶ γὰρ κέχρητ' ἀγαθῇσιν·
ἀλλ' ὅ γ' ἀπαρχόμενος κεφαλῆς τρίχας ἐν πυρὶ βάλλεν
ἀργιόδοντος ὑὸς καὶ ἐπεύχετο πᾶσι θεοῖσι
νοστῆσαι Ὀδυσῆα πολύφρονα ὅνδε δόμονδε.
κόψε δ' ἀνασχόμενος σχίζῃ δρυός, ἣν λίπε κείων·
τὸν δ' ἔλιπε ψυχή. τοὶ δ' ἔσφαξάν τε καὶ εὗσαν,
αἶψα δέ μιν διέχευαν· ὁ δ' ὠμοθετεῖτο συβώτης,
πάντων ἀρχόμενος μελέων, ἐς πίονα δημόν.
καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν πυρὶ βάλλε, παλύνας ἀλφίτου ἀκτῇ,
μίστυλλόν τ' ἄρα τἆλλα καὶ ἀμφ' ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειρον
ὤπτησάν τε περιφραδέως ἐρύσαντό τε πάντα,
βάλλον δ' εἰν ἐλεοῖσιν ἀολλέα. ἂν δὲ συβώτης
ἵστατο δαιτρεύσων· περὶ γὰρ φρεσὶν αἴσιμα ᾔδη.
καὶ τὰ μὲν ἕπταχα πάντα διεμμοιρᾶτο δαΐζων·
τὴν μὲν ἴαν Νύμφῃσι καὶ Ἑρμῇ, Μαιάδος υἷι,
θῆκεν ἐπευξάμενος, τὰς δ' ἄλλας νεῖμεν ἑκάστῳ·
νώτοισιν δ' Ὀδυσῆα διηνεκέεσσι γέραιρεν
ἀργιόδοντος ὑός, κύδαινε δὲ θυμὸν ἄνακτος.
καί μιν φωνήσας προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·

«αἴθ' οὕτως, Εὔμαιε, φίλος Διὶ πατρὶ γένοιο
ὡς ἐμοί, ὅττι με τοῖον ἐόντ' ἀγαθοῖσι γεραίρεις.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
«ἔσθιε, δαιμόνιε ξείνων, καὶ τέρπεο τοῖσδε,
οἷα πάρεστι· θεὸς δὲ τὸ μὲν δώσει, τὸ δ' ἐάσει,
ὅττι κεν ᾧ θυμῷ ἐθέλῃ· δύναται γὰρ ἅπαντα.»

ἦ ῥα, καὶ ἄργματα θῦσε θεοῖσ' αἰειγενέτῃσι,
σπείσας δ' αἴθοπα οἶνον Ὀδυσσῆϊ πτολιπόρθῳ
ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔθηκεν· ὁ δ' ἕζετο ᾗ παρὰ μοίρῃ.
σῖτον δέ σφιν ἔνειμε Μεσαύλιος, ὅν ῥα συβώτης
αὐτὸς κτήσατο οἶος ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος,
νόσφιν δεσποίνης καὶ Λαέρταο γέροντος·
πὰρ δ' ἄρα μιν Ταφίων πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν.
οἱ δ' ἐπ' ὀνείαθ' ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
σῖτον μέν σφιν ἀφεῖλε Μεσαύλιος, οἱ δ' ἐπὶ κοῖτον,
σίτου καὶ κρειῶν κεκορημένοι, ἐσσεύοντο.

νὺξ δ' ἄρ' ἐπῆλθε κακὴ σκοτομήνιος· ὗε δ' ἄρα Ζεὺς
πάννυχος, αὐτὰρ ἄη ζέφυρος μέγας αἰὲν ἔφυδρος.
τοῖς δ' Ὀδυσεὺς μετέειπε, συβώτεω πειρητίζων,
εἴ πώς οἱ ἐκδὺς χλαῖναν πόροι ἤ τιν' ἑταίρων
ἄλλον ἐποτρύνειεν, ἐπεί ἑο κήδετο λίην·

«κέκλυθι νῦν, Εὔμαιε καὶ ἄλλοι πάντες ἑταῖροι,
εὐξάμενός τι ἔπος ἐρέω· οἶνος γὰρ ἀνώγει,
ἠλεός, ὅς τ' ἐφέηκε πολύφρονά περ μάλ' ἀεῖσαι
καί θ' ἁπαλὸν γελάσαι καί τ' ὀρχήσασθαι ἀνῆκε,
καί τι ἔπος προέηκεν, ὅ πέρ τ' ἄῤῥητον ἄμεινον.
ἀλλ' ἐπεὶ οὖν τὸ πρῶτον ἀνέκραγον, οὐκ ἐπικεύσω.
εἴθ' ὣς ἡβώοιμι βίη τέ μοι ἔμπεδος εἴη,
ὡς ὅθ' ὑπὸ Τροίην λόχον ἤγομεν ἀρτύναντες.
ἡγείσθην δ' Ὀδυσεύς τε καὶ Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος,
τοῖσι δ' ἅμα τρίτος ἦρχον ἐγών· αὐτοὶ γὰρ ἄνωγον.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δή ῥ' ἱκόμεσθα ποτὶ πτόλιν αἰπύ τε τεῖχος,
ἡμεῖς μὲν περὶ ἄστυ κατὰ ῥωπήϊα πυκνά,
ἂν δόνακας καὶ ἕλος, ὑπὸ τεύχεσι πεπτηῶτες
κείμεθα, νὺξ δ' ἄρ' ἐπῆλθε κακὴ βορέαο πεσόντος,
πηγυλίς· αὐτὰρ ὕπερθε χιὼν γένετ' ἠΰτε πάχνη,
ψυχρή, καὶ σακέεσσι περιτρέφετο κρύσταλλος.
ἔνθ' ἄλλοι πάντες χλαίνας ἔχον ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,
εὗδον δ' εὔκηλοι, σάκεσιν εἰλυμένοι ὤμους·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ χλαῖναν μὲν ἰὼν ἑτάροισιν ἔλειπον
ἀφραδέως, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἐφάμην ῥιγωσέμεν ἔμπης,
ἀλλ' ἐπόμην σάκος οἶον ἔχων καὶ ζῶμα φαεινόν.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ τρίχα νυκτὸς ἔην, μετὰ δ' ἄστρα βεβήκει,
καὶ τότ' ἐγὼν Ὀδυσῆα προσηύδων ἐγγὺς ἐόντα
ἀγκῶνι νύξας· ὁ δ' ἄρ' ἐμμαπέως ὑπάκουσε·
«διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχαν' Ὀδυσσεῦ,
οὔ τοι ἔτι ζωοῖσι μετέσσομαι, ἀλλά με χεῖμα
δάμναται· οὐ γὰρ ἔχω χλαῖναν· παρά μ' ἤπαφε δαίμων
οἰοχίτων' ἴμεναι· νῦν δ' οὐκέτι φυκτὰ πέλονται.»
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δ' ἔπειτα νόον σχέθε τόνδ' ἐνὶ θυμῷ,
οἷος κεῖνος ἔην βουλευέμεν ἠδὲ μάχεσθαι·
φθεγξάμενος δ' ὀλίγῃ ὀπί με πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
«σίγα νῦν, μή τίς σευ Ἀχαιῶν ἄλλος ἀκούσῃ.»
ἦ, καὶ ἐπ' ἀγκῶνος κεφαλὴν σχέθεν εἶπέ τε μῦθον·
«κλῦτε, φίλοι· θεῖός μοι ἐνύπνιον ἦλθεν ὄνειρος.
λίην γὰρ νηῶν ἑκὰς ἤλθομεν. ἀλλά τις εἴη
εἰπεῖν Ἀτρεΐδῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι, ποιμένι λαῶν,
εἰ πλέονας παρὰ ναῦφιν ἐποτρύνειε νέεσθαι.»
ὣς ἔφατ', ὦρτο δ' ἔπειτα Θόας, Ἀνδραίμονος υἱός,
καρπαλίμως, ἀπὸ δὲ χλαῖναν βάλε φοινικόεσσαν,
βῆ δὲ θέειν ἐπὶ νῆας· ἐγὼ δ' ἐνὶ εἵματι κείνου
κείμην ἀσπασίως, φάε δὲ χρυσόθρονος Ἠώς.
ὣς νῦν ἡβώοιμι βίη τέ μοι ἔμπεδος εἴη·
δοίη κέν τις χλαῖναν ἐνὶ σταθμοῖσι συφορβῶν,
ἀμφότερον, φιλότητι καὶ αἰδόϊ φωτὸς ἐῆος·
νῦν δέ μ' ἀτιμάζουσι κακὰ χροῒ εἵματ' ἔχοντα.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·
«ὦ γέρον, αἶνος μέν τοι ἀμύμων, ὃν κατέλεξας,
οὐδέ τί πω παρὰ μοῖραν ἔπος νηκερδὲς ἔειπες·
τῶ οὔτ' ἐσθῆτος δευήσεαι οὔτε τευ ἄλλου,
ὧν ἐπέοιχ' ἱκέτην ταλαπείριον ἀντιάσαντα,
νῦν· ἀτὰρ ἠῶθέν γε τὰ σὰ ῥάκεα δνοπαλίξεις.
οὐ γὰρ πολλαὶ χλαῖναι ἐπημοιβοί τε χιτῶνες
ἐνθάδε ἕννυσθαι, μία δ' οἴη φωτὶ ἑκάστῳ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ἔλθῃσιν Ὀδυσσῆος φίλος υἱός,
κεῖνός σε χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα ἕσσει,
πέμψει δ', ὅππῃ σε κραδίη θυμός τε κελεύει.»

ὣς εἰπὼν ἀνόρουσε, τίθει δ' ἄρα οἱ πυρὸς ἐγγὺς
εὐνήν, ἐν δ' ὀΐων τε καὶ αἰγῶν δέρματ' ἔβαλλεν.
ἔνθ' Ὀδυσεὺς κατέλεκτ'. ἐπὶ δὲ χλαῖναν βάλεν αὐτῷ
πυκνὴν καὶ μεγάλην, ἥ οἱ παρακέσκετ' ἀμοιβὰς
ἕννυσθαι, ὅτε τις χειμὼν ἔκπαγλος ὄροιτο.

ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθ' Ὀδυσεὺς κοιμήσατο, τοὶ δὲ παρ' αὐτὸν
ἄνδρες κοιμήσαντο νεηνίαι. οὐδὲ συβώτῃ
ἥνδανεν αὐτόθι κοῖτος, ὑῶν ἄπο κοιμηθῆναι,
ἀλλ' ὅ γ' ἄρ' ἔξω ἰὼν ὁπλίζετο· χαῖρε δ' Ὀδυσσεύς,
ὅττι ῥά οἱ βιότου περικήδετο νόσφιν ἐόντος.
πρῶτον μὲν ξίφος ὀξὺ περὶ στιβαροῖς βάλετ' ὤμοις,
ἀμφὶ δὲ χλαῖναν ἐέσσατ', ἀλεξάνεμον μάλα πυκνήν,
ἂν δὲ νάκην ἕλετ' αἰγὸς ἐϋτρεφέος μεγάλοιο,
εἵλετο δ' ὀξὺν ἄκοντα, κυνῶν ἀλκτῆρα καὶ ἀνδρῶν.
βῆ δ' ἴμεναι κείων, ὅθι περ σύες ἀργιόδοντες
πέτρῃ ὕπο γλαφυρῇ εὗδον, βορέω ὑπ' ἰωγῇ.


Aller au chapitre suivant >