When rosy-fingered Dawn, the child of morning, appeared,Telemachus, the dear son of godlike Odysseus, then boundhis fine sandals to his feet,and took up the mighty spear that fitted his grasp,eager for the city, and he addressed his swineherd:
“Good father, I for my part am going to the city, so that my mothermay see me; for I do not think she will ceasefrom her grievous weeping and tearful lamentationuntil she lays eyes upon me myself. But to you I give this charge:lead this unfortunate stranger to the city, so that he may therebeg for his meal. Whoever is willing will give hima loaf and a cup. As for me, it is in no way possible to bear the burden of all men,though my own heart is heavy with sorrow.And if the stranger becomes greatly angered, it will be all the worse for him;for I am wont to speak the truth.”
And resourceful Odysseus answered him in turn:“My friend, I too have no wish to be held back.For a beggar it is better to beg for his food in the town than in the countryside;he who is willing shall give to me.For I am no longer of an age to remain at the farmstead,obeying in all things the commands of a master.But go on your way. This man here will lead me, as you bid,as soon as I have warmed myself by the fire and the sun’s heat is felt.For these garments I wear are wretched indeed; I fear the morning frostmay overcome me; and you say the city is a long way off.”
So he spoke, and Telemachus went forth from the steading,striding with swift feet, sowing doom for the suitors in his heart.And when he reached the well-built palace,he set down his spear, leaning it against a tall pillar,
and went inside himself, crossing the stone threshold.
His nurse, Eurycleia, was the very first to see him,as she was spreading fleeces upon the richly-wrought chairs,and weeping she went straight toward him. And around him the otherserving-women of steadfast Odysseus gathered,and kissed him lovingly on his head and shoulders.
Then from her chamber came prudent Penelope,like unto Artemis or golden Aphrodite,and weeping she threw her arms about her dear son,and kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes,and through her tears she spoke winged words to him:
“You have come, Telemachus, sweet light of my eyes! I thought I would neversee you again, after you went by ship to Pylosin secret, against my will, to seek word of your dear father.But come, tell me now what sight you have seen.”
And the thoughtful Telemachus answered her in turn:“My mother, do not awaken my sorrow, nor stir the heartwithin my breast, when I have just escaped from steep destruction.Rather, bathe yourself, and putting on clean garments,go up to your upper chamber with your serving-womenand vow to all the gods that you will offer up perfect hecatombs,if Zeus ever brings our deeds of vengeance to pass.But I shall go to the place of assembly, that I may summon a guestwho accompanied me from there on my journey here.I sent him on ahead with my godlike companions,and I bade Peiraeus lead him to his own house,to treat him with all kindness and honour until I should come.”
So he spoke, and his word was not winged, but rested with her.She bathed herself, and taking clean garments for her body,vowed to all the gods to offer up perfect hecatombs,if Zeus ever brought their deeds of vengeance to pass.
Telemachus then went forth through the great hall,his spear in hand; and two swift-footed hounds followed at his heels.And upon him Athena shed a divine grace,so that all the people marvelled as he came near.The haughty suitors gathered about him,speaking fair words, but plotting evil deep within their hearts.But he soon turned away from their great company,and went to where Mentor, Antiphus, and Halitherses were seated,who from the beginning had been his father’s companions,and there he sat down; and they questioned him on every matter.Then Peiraeus, famed for his spear, came near to them,leading the stranger through the city to the place of assembly. And Telemachus did not for longturn away from his guest, but stood beside him.And Peiraeus was the first to speak to him:
“Telemachus, send women to my house at once,so I may send you the gifts that Menelaus gave you.”
And the thoughtful Telemachus answered him in turn:“Peiraeus, we do not know how these things will turn out.If the haughty suitors in the great hallshould slay me in secret and divide my father’s property among themselves,I would rather you kept and enjoyed the gifts than any of them.But if I should sow death and destruction among them,then you shall bring the gifts to my house, and we shall both rejoice.”
So speaking, he led the much-enduring stranger to the palace.And when they had reached the well-built halls,they laid aside their cloaks on the chairs and high-backed seats,and went into the polished bathtubs and washed themselves.And when the serving-women had washed them and anointed them with oil,they cast thick cloaks and tunics about them,and they came forth from the baths and sat down upon the chairs.A handmaid brought water for their hands in a pitcher,a beautiful pitcher of gold, and poured it over a silver basin,for them to wash; and beside them she drew up a polished table.And the revered housekeeper brought bread and set it before them,adding many delicacies, giving freely of what she had.His mother sat opposite, by the doorpost of the great hall,leaning back in her chair, spinning fine threads from her distaff.And they put forth their hands to the good cheer that lay ready before them.But when they had put aside their desire for food and drink,prudent Penelope was the first among them to speak:
“Telemachus, I shall indeed go up to my chamberand lie down upon my bed, which has become for me a bed of sorrows,forever steeped in my tears, ever since Odysseuswent to Troy with the sons of Atreus. And yet you did not deign,before the haughty suitors came into this house,to tell me plainly of your father’s return, if you have heard anything.”
And the thoughtful Telemachus answered her in turn:“Then I shall tell you the whole truth, my mother.We went to Pylos and to Nestor, the shepherd of the people;and he received me in his high-roofed hallsand cared for me kindly, as a father would for his own sonwho has newly returned from afar after a long time; so kindly did hetend to me, with his own glorious sons.But of steadfast Odysseus he said he had neverheard from any man on earth, whether he be alive or dead.But he sent me on to the son of Atreus, Menelaus famed for his spear,with horses and a well-joined chariot.There I saw Argive Helen, for whose sake the Argivesand Trojans suffered so much by the will of the gods.And Menelaus of the great war cry asked me at oncewhat need had brought me to lovely Lacedaemon;and I, for my part, told him the whole truth.And then he answered me, speaking these words:‘Ah, shame! Truly they wished to lie in the bed of a mighty-hearted man,they who are themselves without courage.Just as when a doe lays her newborn, suckling fawnsto sleep in the thicket of a mighty lionand then goes roaming the mountain slopes and grassy valleysin search of pasture, and the lion returns to his lairand brings a shameful doom upon them both,so will Odysseus bring a shameful doom upon these men.Father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo, if only,being such as he was once in well-built Lesbos,when he rose up and wrestled with Philomeleides in a contestand threw him mightily, to the joy of all the Achaeans,if only, being such a man, Odysseus might come among the suitors!Then would they all meet a swift doom and a bitter wedding.But as for these things you ask and beseech me about, I will notspeak evasively or deceive you,but of all that the unerring old man of the sea told me,not a word will I hide or keep from you.He said that he had seen him on an island, suffering great sorrows,in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him there by force;and he cannot reach his own native land,for he has no oared ships and no companionsto send him over the broad back of the sea.’So spoke the son of Atreus, Menelaus famed for his spear.Having accomplished my errand, I came away; and the immortal gods gave me a fair windthat brought me swiftly to my own dear country.”
So he spoke, and stirred the spirit in her breast.And among them spoke also godlike Theoclymenus:
“O revered wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes,he, in truth, does not know for certain, but heed my words;for I will prophesy to you plainly and will hide nothing.Let Zeus be my witness, first among the gods, and this hospitable tableand the hearth of blameless Odysseus to which I have come,that Odysseus himself is already in his native land,either sitting still or moving about, learning of these evil deeds,and he is here, sowing the seeds of ruin for all the suitors.Such was the bird-sign that I observed upon the well-benched ship,and I declared it to Telemachus.”
And prudent Penelope answered him in turn:“Ah, stranger, if only this word of yours might be fulfilled!Then you would soon know my friendship and many giftsfrom me, so that any man who met you would call you blessed.”
Thus they spoke such words to one another.Meanwhile the suitors, in front of the palace of Odysseus,were taking their pleasure with the discus and with javelins,on the levelled ground where they had always practiced their insolence.But when the hour of supper came, and the flocks returnedfrom all sides out of the fields, brought in by the usual herdsmen,then Medon spoke to them, for he of all the heraldswas most pleasing to them, and was present at their feasts:
“Young men, now that you have all delighted your hearts with sport,come into the house, so that we may prepare the feast;for it is no bad thing to take supper at the proper time.”
So he spoke, and they rose up and went, persuaded by his words.And when they reached the well-built palace,they laid aside their cloaks on the chairs and high-backed seats,and they sacrificed great sheep and fat goats,and sacrificed fatted hogs and a heifer from the herd,preparing their feast. Meanwhile, from the country toward the cityOdysseus and the noble swineherd made ready to go.And the swineherd, a leader of men, was the first to speak:
“Stranger, since you are so eager to go to the citytoday, as my master commanded—though for my part I would have wishedyou to remain here as guardian of the steading,but I respect and fear him, lest he rebuke me later,and the reprimands of masters are harsh—come then, let us be on our way. For the day is now far spent,and it will soon be colder toward evening.”
And resourceful Odysseus answered him:“I see, I understand; you are speaking to one who takes your meaning.Let us go, and you lead the way for the whole journey.But give me a staff, if you have one cut anywhere,to lean on, for you said the path was treacherous.”
He spoke, and slung over his shoulders a wretched satchel,full of holes, held by a twisted cord.And Eumaeus gave him a staff to his liking.The two of them set out, while the dogs and the herdsmenremained behind to guard the steading. And he led his master to the city,in the guise of a wretched beggar and an old man,leaning on a staff; and miserable were the clothes he wore on his body.
But as they walked along the rugged pathand were near the city, they came to a fountain,a well-built, fair-flowing spring from which the townspeople drew their water,made by Ithacus and Neritus and Polyctor.And all around it was a grove of water-fed poplars,circular on all sides, and cold water flowed downfrom a rock high above; and on top was built an altarto the Nymphs, where all wayfarers made offerings.There Melantheus, son of Dolius, came upon them,driving his goats, the best that were in all the herds,as a meal for the suitors; and two herdsmen followed with him.And seeing them he reviled them and spoke out, calling them by namein a dreadful and shameful way; and it stirred the heart of Odysseus:
“Now this is a fine thing, the vile leading the vile.As ever, a god brings like to like.Where are you leading this glutton, you worthless swineherd,this miserable beggar, this spoiler of feasts?He will stand and rub his shoulders on many a doorpost,begging for scraps, not for swords or cauldrons.If you would give him to me to be a guard at my steading,to sweep the pens and carry fresh shoots to the kids,he might drink whey and build himself a sturdy thigh.But since he has learned only evil trades, he will have no wishto turn his hand to honest work, but would rather cower about the town,begging to feed his insatiable belly.But I will tell you something, and it will surely come to pass:if he comes to the house of godlike Odysseus,many a footstool from the hands of the men will fly about his headand break against his ribs as he is pelted through the house.”
So he spoke, and as he passed by, in his folly, he kicked Odysseuson the hip; but he did not knock him from the path,for he stood firm. And Odysseus debated in his mindwhether to leap upon him and take his life with a blow of his staff,or to lift him up and dash his head upon the ground.But he endured it, and checked himself in his heart. And the swineherdlooked the man in the face and cursed him, and lifting up his hands, prayed aloud:
“Nymphs of the spring, daughters of Zeus, if ever Odysseusburned for you the thighs of lambs and kids, wrapping them in rich fat,then grant me this wish,that this man, Odysseus, may return, and a god may guide him.Then he would scatter all the finerythat you now wear with such insolence, while you wander endlesslyabout the city, while bad shepherds ruin the flocks.”
And Melanthius, the goatherd, answered him in turn:“Well now! How the dog speaks, a creature of wicked designs.Some day I will take him on a well-benched black shipand sell him far from Ithaca, to fetch me a great price.And I wish that Apollo of the silver bow might strike Telemachusthis very day in the halls, or that he be brought down by the suitors,just as for Odysseus the day of his return was lost far away.”
So saying, he left them there as they walked on slowly,and he went on, and very quickly reached the house of his master.He went straight in and sat down among the suitors,opposite Eurymachus, for he favored him most of all.Those who were serving set a portion of meat before him,and the revered housekeeper brought bread and set it downfor him to eat. And close behind, Odysseus and the noble swineherddrew near and stood there, and around them came the soundof the hollow lyre, for Phemius was just striking up a song for them.Then Odysseus took the swineherd by the hand and said:
“Eumaeus, this is surely the beautiful house of Odysseus.It is easy to know it, even among many.One building follows another, and the courtyard is adornedwith a wall and coping, and the doors are well-securedand double-leafed; no man could force his way in.And I see that many men are holding a feast within,for the smell of roasting meat rises up, and the lyreresounds, which the gods have made the companion of the feast.”
And you answered him, Eumaeus, my swineherd:“You have guessed it easily, for in other things too you are not without sense.But come now, let us consider how these things should be.Either you go first into the well-built palaceand join the suitors, and I will remain here;or, if you wish, wait here, and I will go on ahead.But do not linger, lest someone seeing you outsideshould strike you or drive you away. I bid you consider this.”
Then much-enduring, godlike Odysseus answered him:“I see, I understand; you are speaking to one who takes your meaning.But you go on ahead, and I will remain here.For I am not at all unacquainted with blows or with missiles.My heart is steadfast, for I have suffered much evilon the waves and in war; let this be added to the rest.But a ravenous belly is a thing a man cannot hide,a cursed thing, that brings many evils upon men;for its sake even well-benched ships are fitted outto cross the barren sea, bringing evil to one’s enemies.”
As they were speaking such words to one another,a dog that was lying there lifted his head and pricked up his ears,Argos, the hound of steadfast Odysseus, whom he himself had oncereared, but had no joy of him, for before he could, to sacred Iliumhe departed. In days past the young men used to take himto hunt wild goats, and deer, and hares.But now he lay neglected, his master gone,on a great pile of dung from the mules and oxenthat lay heaped up before the gates, until the servantsof Odysseus should carry it off to manure his great estate.There lay the dog Argos, infested with ticks.But then, when he sensed Odysseus standing near,he wagged his tail and dropped both his ears,but he no longer had the strength to draw nearerto his master. And Odysseus, looking aside, wiped away a tear,easily hiding it from Eumaeus, and at once he asked him:
“Eumaeus, it is a great wonder that this dog lies here on the dunghill.He is handsome in build, but I cannot tell for sureif he was swift in the chase to match his beauty,or if he was merely one of those table-dogs that men keep,which their masters cherish for show.”
And you answered him, Eumaeus, my swineherd:“Indeed, this is the hound of a man who died far away.If he were now in build and in actionsuch as Odysseus left him when he went to Troy,you would soon be amazed at the sight of his swiftness and his strength.No creature that he started could escape him in the depths of the thick wood;for he was also skilled in tracking a scent.But now he is worn down by misery, and his master has perished in a foreign land,and the careless women do not look after him.For when masters no longer hold sway, the slaves
no longer wish to do their duties as they should.For far-seeing Zeus takes away half the virtueof a man, when the day of slavery lays hold of him.”
So speaking, he entered the well-built palace,and went straight to the hall to join the proud suitors.But upon Argos the fate of black death descended,the moment he saw his master Odysseus in the twentieth year.
Godlike Telemachus was the very first to seethe swineherd coming through the house, and he quicklynodded to call him over. And the other, looking about, took a stoolthat was lying there, where the carver used to sit while carving many portions of meatfor the suitors feasting in the hall.He brought it and set it by Telemachus’s table,opposite him, and there he himself sat down. And a heraldtook a portion of meat and bread from a basket and set it before him.
Close after him, Odysseus entered the house,in the guise of a wretched beggar and an old man,leaning on a staff; and miserable were the clothes he wore on his body.He sat down on the ash-wood threshold within the doors,leaning against a cypress doorpost, which a craftsman had onceskillfully planed and made straight to the line.And Telemachus called the swineherd to him and spoke,taking a whole loaf from the beautiful basketand as much meat as his hands could hold cupped together:
“Take this and give it to the stranger, and bid him himselfto go about and beg from all the suitors in turn.Shame is no good companion for a man in need.”
So he spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard his word,and standing near him spoke winged words:
“Stranger, Telemachus gives you these things, and bids youto go about and beg from all the suitors in turn.He says that shame is no good companion for a begging man.”
And resourceful Odysseus answered him in turn:“Lord Zeus, grant that Telemachus be blessed among men,and may all that his heart desires come to pass for him.”
He spoke, and took the food with both hands and set it downthere before his feet, on his wretched satchel,and ate while the bard was singing in the great hall.When he had supped, the divine singer ceased his song;and the suitors raised a clamour through the hall. But Athenastood near to Odysseus, son of Laertes,and urged him to gather loaves among the suitorsand learn which of them were righteous and which were lawless.Yet even so she did not mean to save a single one from ruin.He went to beg from left to right, from man to man,stretching out his hand on all sides, as if he were a beggar of long practice.And they, out of pity, gave, and marvelled at him,and asked one another who he was and from where he came.And Melanthius, the goatherd, spoke among them:
“Listen to me, suitors of our glorious queen,concerning this stranger; for I have seen him before.In truth, the swineherd was his guide on the way here,but the man himself I do not know for sure, nor what family he claims.”
So he spoke, and Antinous rebuked the swineherd with harsh words:“Oh you notorious swineherd, why did you bring this man to the city?Are there not enough vagrants for us already,miserable beggars, spoilers of feasts?Or do you resent that these men consume your master’s livelihood,gathered here, so you have invited this one as well?”
And you answered him, Eumaeus, my swineherd:“Antinous, you speak nobly, though you are a nobleman.For who indeed goes out of his way to invite a strangerfrom another land, unless he be one of those who are public craftsmen?A seer, or a healer of ills, or a carpenter,or even a divine singer, who gives delight with his song.For these men are invited all over the boundless earth.But no man would invite a beggar to devour his own substance.But you are always the harshest of all the suitorsto the servants of Odysseus, and to me above all. But I for my partdo not care, so long as wise Penelopelives in these halls, and godlike Telemachus.”
And the thoughtful Telemachus answered him in turn:“Be silent, do not answer him with so many words.Antinous is ever wont to provoke me with malice,with harsh words, and he urges the others on too.”
He spoke, and addressed Antinous with winged words:“Antinous, how kindly you care for me, like a father for his son,you who bid me drive this stranger from the hallwith a word of force. May the god never bring this to pass.Take something and give it to him; I do not begrudge it. Indeed, I command it.Fear neither my mother in this, nor any of the otherservants in the house of godlike Odysseus.But you have no such thought in your breast;for you would much rather eat yourself than give to another.”
And Antinous answered him in turn:“Telemachus, you braggart, unrestrained in your passion, what a speech!If all the suitors were to give him as much,this house would be rid of him for three months at least.”
So he spoke, and seized the footstool that lay beneath the table,on which he rested his sleek feet while feasting, and held it up.But all the others gave, and they filled the satchelwith bread and meat. And Odysseus was on the pointof going back to the threshold to taste the charity of the Achaeans,but he stopped by Antinous and spoke to him:
“Give, my friend. You do not seem to me to be the basest of the Achaeans,but the noblest, for you look like a king.Therefore you should give me a better portion of bread than the others,and I would sing your praises over the boundless earth.For I too once lived among men in a house of my own,a man of wealth and substance, and I often gave to the wanderer,whoever he might be and whatever his need.I had countless slaves and many other thingsby which men live well and are called wealthy.But Zeus, son of Cronos, brought me to ruin—for so it must have been his will—he who sent me with far-roaming piratesto go to Egypt, a long voyage, so that I might be undone.I moored my curved ships in the river Aegyptus.There I truly bade my trusty companionsto stay there by the ships and to guard the ships,and I sent out scouts to the places of watch.But they, giving way to violence and following their own impulses,at once plundered the beautiful fields of the Egyptian men,and carried off their wives and infant childrenand slew the men. And the cry soon reached the city.And the people, hearing the shout, came at the breaking of dawn;the whole plain was filled with foot soldiers and horsesand the gleam of bronze. And Zeus who delights in thundercast a foul panic among my companions, and not one daredto stand and face them; for evil beset us from all sides.There they slew many of us with the sharp bronze,and the others they led away alive, to work for them in bondage.But me they gave to a stranger they met, bound for Cyprus,to Dmetor, son of Iasus, who ruled with might over Cyprus.From there I have now come here, suffering these woes.”
Then Antinous answered him and spoke:“What god has brought this pest here, this vexation to our feast?Stand over there, in the middle, far from my table,or you may soon see a bitter Egypt and a bitter Cyprus.What a bold and shameless beggar you are!You stand before all of them in turn, and they giverecklessly, for there is no restraint or pityin giving away what belongs to another, since each has plenty.”
And resourceful Odysseus drew back and said:“Alas, it seems your wisdom does not match your looks.You would not give so much as a pinch of salt from your own house to your own steward,you who now sit at another’s table and could not bring yourselfto break off a piece of bread and give it to me, though there is plenty here.”
So he spoke, and Antinous grew all the more angered at heart,and giving him a dark look, spoke winged words:
“Now I do not think you will get away cleanly from the hall,and go back unscathed, since you utter such insults.”
So he spoke, and seizing the footstool he struck Odysseus on the right shoulder,at the base of his back. But he stood firm as a rock,and the blow from Antinous did not make him stagger,
but he shook his head in silence, plotting evil deep in his heart.He went back to the threshold and sat down, and set down his sack,which was well filled, and spoke among the suitors:
“Listen to me, suitors of our glorious queen,so I may speak what the heart in my breast commands me.There is no pain in the heart, nor any grief,when a man is struck while fighting for his own possessions,for his cattle or his white-fleeced sheep.But Antinous struck me for the sake of my wretched belly,that cursed thing, which brings many evils upon men.But if there are gods and Furies for beggars,may the end of death come upon Antinous before his wedding.”
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:“Eat in peace, stranger, sitting there, or go somewhere else,lest the young men drag you through the house for what you say,either by the foot or by the hand, and strip you of all your skin.”
So he spoke, but all the others were exceedingly indignant.And one of the proud young men would say:
“Antinous, you did not do well to strike the wretched wanderer.Cursed man, what if he is some god from heaven?For the gods, in the likeness of strangers from foreign lands,taking on all sorts of forms, wander through the cities,observing the insolence and the good order of men.”
So spoke the suitors, but he paid no heed to their words.And Telemachus nursed a great sorrow in his heart for the manwho was struck, but he did not let a tear fall from his eyelids to the ground,but shook his head in silence, plotting evil deep in his heart.
But when prudent Penelope heard of the manbeing struck in the hall, she said among her serving-women:
“So may the famed archer Apollo strike you yourself!”
And the housekeeper Eurynome answered her in turn:“If only our curses might be brought to fulfillment!Not one of these men would see the fair-throned Dawn.”
And prudent Penelope answered her in turn:“Nurse, they are all enemies, for they devise evil things;but Antinous most of all is like black death itself.Some poor stranger wanders through the house,begging from the men, for his need compels him;and while all the others filled his sack and gave to him,this one struck him with a footstool on his right shoulder.”
Thus she spoke among her serving-women,sitting in her chamber, while godlike Odysseus was at his supper.Then she called to the noble swineherd and addressed him:
“Go, noble Eumaeus, go and bid the strangerto come, so that I may welcome him and question him,if perhaps he has heard news of steadfast Odysseusor seen him with his own eyes; for he seems a much-traveled man.”
And you answered her, Eumaeus, my swineherd:“If only, my queen, the Achaeans would be silent!Such tales he tells, he would charm your very heart.For three nights I had him, and for three days I kept himin my hut—for he came to me first, having fled from a ship—but he has not yet finished the tale of his misfortunes.Just as a man gazes on a bard who, taught by the gods,sings enchanting tales to mortals,and they have an endless desire to listen whenever he sings,so he enchanted me as he sat in my hall.He says he is a friend of Odysseus’s house,dwelling in Crete, where the lineage of Minos is.From there he has now come here, suffering these woes,tossed from one trial to another; and he insists he has heard of Odysseus,close by, in the rich land of the Thesprotians,and that he is alive, and bringing many treasures to his home.”
And prudent Penelope answered him in turn:“Go, call him here, so he may tell me this himself, to my face.Let these men amuse themselves sitting at the gatesor here in the house, since their hearts are merry.For their own possessions lie untouched in their houses,their bread and sweet wine, which only their servants eat,while they themselves flock to our house every day,slaughtering our oxen and sheep and fat goats,and feasting and drinking our gleaming winerecklessly. And much is being wasted, for there is no man here,such as Odysseus was, to ward off ruin from the house.But if Odysseus should come and return to his native land,he would soon, with his son, avenge the violence of these men.”
So she spoke, and Telemachus sneezed loudly, and the houseresounded terribly. And Penelope laughed,and at once spoke winged words to Eumaeus:
“Go, call the stranger here before me.Do you not see that my son has sneezed at all my words?Therefore shall death for the suitors not be unfulfilled,but come upon them all, and not one shall escape death and doom.And I will tell you another thing, and you take it to heart:if I find that he speaks the whole truth,I will clothe him in a cloak and a tunic, fine garments.”
So she spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard her word,and standing near the stranger, spoke winged words:
“Stranger and father, prudent Penelope calls for you,the mother of Telemachus. Her heart bids her ask you somethingconcerning her husband, though she has suffered many sorrows.And if she finds that you speak the whole truth,she will clothe you in a cloak and a tunic, of which you havethe greatest need. And begging for food through the town,you shall feed your belly; whoever wishes will give to you.”
And much-enduring, godlike Odysseus answered him:“Eumaeus, I would gladly tell the whole truth at onceto the daughter of Icarius, prudent Penelope.For I know well of him, and we have shared the same fate.But I fear the company of the harsh suitors,whose insolence and violence reach the iron heavens.For just now, as I was going through the house, this man,though I had done no wrong, struck me and gave me pain,and neither Telemachus nor anyone else did anything to stop it.Therefore, bid Penelope now to wait in her chambers,eager though she is, until the sun goes down.And then let her ask me about the day of her husband’s return,seating me closer to the fire; for my clothesare wretched, as you yourself know, since I first came to you as a suppliant.”
So he spoke, and the swineherd went when he heard his word.And as he crossed the threshold, Penelope addressed him:
“You are not bringing him, Eumaeus? What has this wanderer in mind?Is he afraid of someone, for some extraordinary reason, or is he simplyashamed to be in the house? A bashful beggar is a bad beggar.”
And you answered her, Eumaeus, my swineherd:“He speaks reasonably, as anyone else would think,trying to avoid the insolence of arrogant men.He bids you wait until the sun goes down.And it would be far better for you yourself, my queen,to speak with the stranger alone and to hear his story.”
And prudent Penelope answered him in turn:“The stranger is not without sense, it may well be.For there have never been any mortal menwho devise such wicked follies with such insolence.”
So she spoke, and the noble swineherd departedinto the throng of the suitors, once he had explained everything.And at once he spoke winged words to Telemachus,holding his head close, so that the others might not hear:
“My friend, I am going now to look after the swine and those other things,your livelihood and mine. It is for you to take care of all that is here.First, save yourself, and take thought in your heartlest you come to harm. For many of the Achaeans have evil thoughts,whom may Zeus destroy before they bring disaster upon us.”
And the thoughtful Telemachus answered him in turn:“So it shall be, good father. But you go, after you have eaten.And in the morning, come and bring fine beasts for the sacrifice.As for all these matters, they shall be my care and that of the immortal gods.”
So he spoke, and the other sat down again on his well-polished stool.And when he had satisfied his heart with food and drink,he went his way to the swine, leaving the courtyard and the hallfull of feasting men; and they were delighting themselveswith dancing and with song, for evening had already come.