ODYSSEY 19

But in the great hall, godlike Odysseus was left behind, plotting with Athene the slaughter of the suitors. At once he spoke winged words to Telemachus:

"Telemachus, we must put the weapons of war away inside, all of them. As for the suitors, you must beguile them with gentle words when they notice the weapons are gone and question you. Say, 'I have moved them out of the smoke, since they no longer look

as they did when Odysseus left them behind on his way to Troy, but are tarnished wherever the breath of the fire has reached them. And besides, a god has put a graver thought into my heart: that you might, inflamed with wine, start a quarrel among you, and wound one another, and so bring shame upon the feast and your courtship. For iron itself draws a man to it.' "

So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father. He called out for the nurse Eurycleia and said to her:

"Nurse, come now, shut the women away in their quarters, so that I may store my father's gear in the storeroom— his fine arms, which lie neglected about the house, blackened by smoke, ever since my father departed. I was only a child then. But now I wish to store them where the breath of the fire will not reach them."

To him in turn his dear nurse Eurycleia replied: "If only, my child, you would at last find the wisdom to care for the house and protect all its treasures. But come, who then will go with you and carry a light? You would not allow the maids, who might have lit the way, to come forth."

Wise Telemachus answered her in turn: "This stranger here. For I will not suffer any man to be idle who partakes of my rations, even if he has come from a distant land."

So he spoke, and her word remained unwinged on her lips; she locked the doors of the well-appointed hall. Then the two of them, Odysseus and his splendid son, sprang up and carried inside the helmets and the bossed shields and the sharp-pointed spears. And before them Pallas Athene, holding a golden lamp, made a most beautiful light. Then Telemachus spoke at once to his father:

"Father, this is a great marvel that I see with my eyes! The walls of the hall, and the fine crossbeams, and the fir-wood rafters, and the pillars that reach so high, all appear to my eyes as if lit by a blazing fire. Surely some god is within, one of those who hold the wide heavens."

Answering him, Odysseus of many wiles said: "Be silent, and keep this in your mind, and ask no questions. This is the way of the gods who hold Olympus. But you should go and take your rest, while I remain here below, so that I may further test the maids and your mother. And she, weeping, will question me about all things."

So he spoke, and Telemachus went forth through the hall to his chamber to lie down, by the light of blazing torches, to the room where he always slept when sweet slumber came upon him. There he lay down then and there, and awaited the divine Dawn. But in the great hall, godlike Odysseus was left behind, plotting with Athene the slaughter of the suitors.

Then from her chamber came prudent Penelope, like unto Artemis or golden Aphrodite. Beside the fire they placed for her the chair where she was wont to sit, a chair inlaid with spirals of ivory and silver, which the craftsman Icmalius had once fashioned, and beneath it he had fixed a footstool, made as part of the chair itself, where a great fleece was thrown. There prudent Penelope then took her seat.

And the white-armed maids came from the great hall. They cleared away the abundant food and the tables and the cups from which the overbearing men had been drinking. They threw the embers from the braziers onto the floor, and upon them they piled much fresh wood, to give light and warmth. But Melantho chided Odysseus for a second time:

"Stranger, will you still vex us here through the night, prowling about the house and spying on the women? Get yourself out the door, wretch, and be glad of your supper, or you will soon be struck with a firebrand and find yourself outside."

Then, glaring at her from beneath his brows, wily Odysseus spoke: "My good woman, why do you assail me with such an angry heart? Is it because I am grimy and wear foul clothing upon my skin, and beg throughout the land? It is necessity that drives me. Such is the lot of beggars and wandering men. For I, too, once had a home among men, and was prosperous and wealthy, and often gave to the wanderer, whoever he might be and whatever his need when he came. And I had numberless servants and all the other things by which men live well and are called wealthy. But Zeus, son of Cronos, brought me to ruin; for such, I suppose, was his will. So now, woman, take care lest you too lose all the splendor in which you now excel among the serving maids, in case your mistress should grow wroth and turn harsh against you, or Odysseus should return; for there is still a measure of hope. But if he has indeed perished and is never to return, yet by Apollo's grace he has a son such as this, Telemachus. And the wantonness of any woman in this house does not escape him, for he is no longer of such a tender age."

So he spoke, and prudent Penelope heard him, and she rebuked her handmaid, and spoke, and called her by name:

"You are brazen indeed, you shameless bitch, and in no way do you escape my notice as you commit this great offense, for which you will pay with your own head. For you knew very well, since you heard it from my own lips, that I intended to question the stranger here in my halls about my husband, for I am sorely afflicted with grief."

So she spoke, and said to the housekeeper Eurynome: "Eurynome, bring a stool and a fleece upon it, so that the stranger may sit and speak his word and listen to mine; for I wish to question him myself."

So she spoke, and the housekeeper moved with great haste, and brought a polished stool and threw a fleece upon it. There much-enduring, godlike Odysseus then took his seat. And prudent Penelope was the first to speak:

"Stranger, I myself will first ask you this: who are you and from where? Where is your city, and where your parents?"

Answering her, Odysseus of many wiles said: "O lady, no mortal across the boundless earth could find fault with you; for truly your fame reaches the wide heaven, like that of some blameless king who, in his god-fearing way, rules over many mighty men, upholding justice. And the black earth bears wheat and barley, the trees are heavy with fruit, the flocks bear young unfailingly, and the sea yields its fish from his good governance, and the people prosper under him. Therefore, question me now about other things here in your house, but do not ask of my lineage and my native land, lest you fill my heart with even more sorrows as I remember; for I am a man of many griefs. Nor is it right for me to sit in the house of another, weeping and wailing, since it is a worse thing still to grieve without end. I fear one of the serving maids might resent it, or even you yourself, and say that my mind is afloat with tears, heavy with wine."

Then prudent Penelope answered him in turn: "Stranger, surely my excellence, both in form and in feature, was destroyed by the immortals, when the Argives embarked for Ilium, and among them went my husband, Odysseus. If only he would return and watch over my life, my fame would be greater and more fair for it. But now I am in sorrow; for such are the evils a god has sent upon me. For all the nobles who hold power over the islands— Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus— and all who dwell here in sunlit Ithaca itself, all these woo me against my will, and they are consuming my house. And so I pay no heed to strangers, nor to supplicants, nor even to heralds, who are men of public service. Instead, I waste away my own heart with longing for Odysseus. They are eager for marriage, but I weave my own designs. First, a god breathed this stratagem into my heart: I set up a great loom in my halls and began to weave a shroud, fine of thread and vast in size. And at once I spoke to them: 'Young men, my suitors, since godlike Odysseus is dead, be patient, though you are eager for my hand, until I finish this cloth— lest my threads be wasted and come to nothing— a burial shroud for the hero Laertes, for that time when the cruel fate of ruinous death shall take him. I fear one of the Achaean women in the land would reproach me, if he who had won so many possessions should lie without a winding-sheet.' So I spoke, and their proud hearts were persuaded. And so by day I would weave the great web, but by night I would unravel it, with torches set beside me. Thus for three years I deceived them and persuaded the Achaeans.

But when the fourth year came, and the seasons returned, as the months waned and the many days were fulfilled, then at last, through my maids—those shameless dogs— they came upon me and caught me, and reproached me with their words. And so I finished it, though unwilling, by force. Now I can neither escape the marriage, nor can I find any other stratagem. My parents strongly urge me to marry, and my son is vexed as they devour our livelihood, for he understands; he is now a man, and fully able to care for a house, to which Zeus grants prosperity. But even so, tell me of your lineage, from whence you come. For you are not sprung from the fabled oak, nor from a rock."

Answering her, Odysseus of many wiles said: "O honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, will you never cease asking of my origins? Very well, I shall tell you. But you will surely give me over to sorrows even greater than those I now bear; for such is the way of things, when a man has been away from his own country for as long as I have now been, wandering to the many cities of men, and suffering many pains. But even so, I will tell you what you ask and inquire of me. There is a land called Crete, in the midst of the wine-dark sea, a fair and rich land, washed by the waves on all sides; and in it are men beyond number, and ninety cities. - And one tongue is mixed with another; there are Achaeans, there are great-hearted Eteocretans, there are Cydonians, and the Dorians, of three tribes, and the godlike Pelasgians. - And among their cities is Cnossus, a great city, where Minos ruled for nine years, he who was the intimate of great Zeus, the father of my father, great-hearted Deucalion. And Deucalion fathered me and lord Idomeneus. But he, in the beaked ships, went to the land of Ilium with the sons of Atreus. My own famous name is Aethon; I am the younger by birth, but he was at once the elder and the better man. It was there that I saw Odysseus and gave him gifts of hospitality. For the force of the wind had brought him to Crete as he was making for Troy, driving him off course from Malea. He put in at Amnisus, where the cave of Eileithyia is, in a difficult harbor, and he barely escaped the gales. He at once went up to the city and asked for Idomeneus, for he said that he was his beloved and honored guest-friend. But it was now the tenth or eleventh dawn since he had departed with his beaked ships for the land of Ilium. So I took him to my own house and hosted him well, treating him with kindness from the abundance of my home. And to his other comrades, who followed with him, I gave barley-meal from the public stores, and gathered glowing wine, and oxen for sacrifice, so that their hearts might be satisfied. There the godlike Achaeans remained for twelve days; for a great north wind penned them in and would not let them stand on their feet upon the land, so harsh a divinity had stirred it up. But on the thirteenth day the wind fell, and they put to sea."

So he spoke, weaving many falsehoods that seemed like the truth. And as she listened, her tears flowed and her body melted. As the snow melts on the high mountain peaks, snow that the East Wind has melted after the West Wind has shed it, and as it melts the rivers flow onward in full flood, so her fair cheeks melted as she shed her tears, weeping for her own husband, who sat there beside her. But Odysseus in his heart pitied his weeping wife, yet his eyes stood as steady as horn or as iron, unwavering in their lids; and by his cunning he concealed his tears.

But when she had taken her fill of tearful lamentation, she answered him again with her words and spoke:

"Now, stranger, I think I shall put you to the test, to see if you truly did host him there with his godlike comrades, my husband, in your halls, as you claim. Tell me, what sort of garments did he wear upon his body, and what was he like himself, and tell me of the comrades who followed him."

Answering her, Odysseus of many wiles said: "O lady, it is difficult, after so much time has passed, to say; for this is now the twentieth year since he went from there and departed from my native land. But I will tell you as he appears in my heart's memory. Godlike Odysseus wore a purple cloak of wool, made in double fold; upon it was a brooch of gold, fashioned with twin sockets for the pins; and its face was a work of art: in its forepaws a hound held a dappled fawn, and gazed at it as it writhed. And all who saw it marvelled at how, though they were made of gold, the one pinned the fawn and choked it, while the other, striving to escape, struggled with its feet. And I noted the shining tunic he wore on his skin, like the glistening sheath of a dried onion; so soft it was, and it shone like the sun. Truly, many were the women who gazed upon him in wonder. And I will tell you another thing, and you must cast it in your heart: I do not know if Odysseus wore these clothes from home, or if one of his comrades gave them to him as he set out on his swift ship, or perhaps even a host, since to many was Odysseus a friend; for few among the Achaeans were his equal. And I myself gave him a bronze sword and a fine, double-folded purple cloak and a fringed tunic, and sent him away with all honor on his well-benched ship. And a herald, a little older than he, followed him. I will tell you what he was like: he was stooped in the shoulders, dark of skin, and with curly hair. Eurybates was his name; and Odysseus honored him above all others of his companions, because their minds were of one accord."

So he spoke, and in her it stirred still more the desire for weeping, as she recognized the tokens that Odysseus had described so surely. But when she had taken her fill of tearful lamentation, she then answered him with her words and spoke:

"Now indeed, stranger, though you were pitiful to me before, in my own halls you shall be a friend and honored. For it was I myself who gave him these garments you describe; I folded them and brought them from the storeroom, and I put on the shining brooch to be his adornment. But I shall not welcome him again, returned home to his own dear native land. And so it was by an evil fate that Odysseus on his hollow ship departed to see that Evil Ilium, which should not be named."

Answering her, Odysseus of many wiles said: "O honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, do not now mar your fair skin nor waste your spirit with weeping for your husband. And yet I do not blame you. For any woman weeps to have lost her wedded husband, to whom she bore children, joined with him in love, let alone Odysseus, who they say was like unto the gods. But cease your lament, and take heed of my words; for I will speak to you truthfully and will hide nothing, of how I have lately heard of Odysseus's return, that he is near, in the rich land of the Thesprotian men, and is alive. And he brings with him many fine treasures, begging for them throughout the land. But his trusty comrades he lost, and his hollow ship on the wine-dark sea, as he sailed from the island of Thrinacia. For Zeus and Helios were wroth with him, because his companions had killed the Sun God's cattle. They all perished in the surging sea; but him the waves cast upon the keel of his ship onto the shore, to the land of the Phaeacians, who are kinsmen of the gods. They honored him in their hearts as if he were a god and gave him many gifts, and they themselves wished to convey him home unharmed. And Odysseus would have been here long ago, but it seemed to him more profitable in his heart to gather riches by travelling over the wide earth. For in matters of gain, Odysseus knows more than any mortal man, nor could any other mortal contend with him. So Pheidon, king of the Thesprotians, told me. And he swore an oath to me myself, pouring libations in his house, that a ship was drawn down to the sea and a crew was ready, who would convey him to his own dear native land. But he sent me away first; for a ship of Thesprotian men chanced to be going to Dulichium, rich in wheat. And he showed me all the possessions that Odysseus had gathered. Truly they would sustain 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-crested oak,

how he should return to his dear native land, after so long an absence, whether openly or in secret. So he is safe, as you see, and will soon be here. He is very near, and not for long will he be far from his friends and his native soil. Yet I will give you an oath. Let Zeus be my witness first, highest and best of gods, and the hearth of blameless Odysseus, to which I have come: truly all these things shall come to pass as I say. Within this very year Odysseus will come here, as this moon wanes and the next one begins."

To him in turn prudent Penelope replied: "Ah, stranger, if only this word might be fulfilled! Then you would soon know my friendship and many gifts from me, so that any man who met you would call you blessed. But this is what my heart foretells, and how it will be: neither will Odysseus come home again, nor will you obtain passage, since there are no masters in this house such as Odysseus was among men—if ever he was— to send off honored guests and to welcome them. But come, handmaids, wash his feet and set down a bed, with bedding and cloaks and shining rugs, so that, kept warm and well, he may come to the golden-throned Dawn. And very early in the morning, bathe him and anoint him, so that he may take his meal beside Telemachus, seated in the hall. And it will be the worse for any of those men who vexes him, to his own soul's harm. He will accomplish nothing further here, however terribly enraged he may be. For how, stranger, could you know of me, whether I surpass other women in sense and prudent counsel, if you were to dine in my halls squalid and ill-clad? For men themselves are short-lived creatures. He who is cruel himself and knows cruel thoughts, upon him all mortals call down sorrows for the future while he lives, and when he is dead, all mock him. But he who is blameless himself and knows blameless thoughts, his great fame is carried by his guests to all mankind, and many call him a good man."

Answering her, Odysseus of many wiles said: "O honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, truly, cloaks and shining rugs have become hateful to me, ever since I first left behind the snow-capped mountains of Crete, sailing on a long-oared ship. I will lie down as I did before, through sleepless nights. For many a night indeed, on a wretched bed, have I lain and awaited the divine, fair-throned Dawn. And this washing of feet holds no pleasure for my heart; nor shall any woman touch my foot, of those who are serving-women in your house, unless there is some old woman, one who knows her duty, who has endured in her heart as many sorrows as I have. I would not begrudge her the touching of my feet."

To him in turn prudent Penelope replied: "Dear stranger, for never yet has a man so wise among foreign guests come to my house, a man more welcome, so thoughtful and prudent is all that you say. I have an old woman with prudent counsel in her heart, one who nursed and reared that ill-fated man with care, taking him in her arms the moment his mother bore him. She will wash your feet, though her strength is but little. Come now, arise, prudent Eurycleia, and wash the feet of one who is of an age with your master. And perhaps Odysseus is now such as this, with such feet and such hands; for mortals grow old quickly in misfortune."

So she spoke, and the old woman covered her face with her hands, and shed hot tears, and spoke a word of lament:

"Alas for you, my child, I am helpless! Surely Zeus hated you above all men, though you had a god-fearing heart. For no mortal has ever burned so many rich thigh-pieces to Zeus who delights in thunder, nor such choice hecatombs, as you gave to him, praying that you might reach a sleek old age and raise a splendid son. But now from you alone has he utterly stolen the day of your return. And so, I suppose, the women of some far-off foreign host mocked him, whenever he came to some famous house, just as these bitches here all mock you, and it is to avoid their insults and their many shames that you do not let them wash you. But me, not unwillingly, has the daughter of Icarius, prudent Penelope, commanded. Therefore I will wash your feet, both for Penelope's sake and for your own, because my heart within is stirred with sorrows. But come now, understand the word I shall speak: many toil-worn strangers have come here before, but I say that I have never seen anyone so like another as you, in build and voice and feet, are like Odysseus."

Answering her, Odysseus of many wiles said: "Old woman, so say all who have seen with their eyes the two of us, that we are very like one another, as you yourself have wisely observed and now declare."

So he spoke, and the old woman took a gleaming basin, one she used for washing feet, and poured in much cold water, and then added hot. But Odysseus sat down by the hearth and quickly turned toward the darkness, for at once he feared in his heart that as she took him in her hands she might feel the scar, and the truth would be made manifest. She came near and began to wash her master; and at once she knew the scar, which a boar had once dealt him with its white tusk when he went to Parnassus to visit Autolycus and his sons, his own mother's noble father, who surpassed all men in thievery and in oaths; for the god himself, Hermes, had given him this skill, as he burned pleasing thigh-pieces of lambs and kids; and the god was his willing companion. Now Autolycus had come to the rich land of Ithaca and found his daughter's newly born son; and Eurycleia laid the child on his dear knees as he was finishing his supper, and spoke and called him by name:

"Autolycus, you yourself must now find a name to give to your dear daughter's child; for he is a child of many prayers."

Then Autolycus answered her and spoke: "My son-in-law and my daughter, give him the name that I shall say. Since I have come here as one who has been wroth with many, both men and women, across the nourishing earth, therefore let his name be Odysseus, 'The Wrathful'. And for my part, when he is a man and comes to the great house of his mother's kin on Parnassus, where my possessions lie, of these I will give him a share and send him away rejoicing."

It was for these things that Odysseus had come, so that he might give him the splendid gifts. And Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus welcomed him with their hands and with honeyed words. And Amphithea, his mother's mother, threw her arms around Odysseus and kissed his head and both his beautiful eyes. And Autolycus called to his glorious sons to prepare a meal, and they heeded his bidding. At once they brought in a five-year-old bull; they flayed it and prepared it and cut it all up, and skillfully minced it and pierced it with spits, and roasted it with great care and divided the portions. So then for the whole day, until the setting of the sun, they feasted, nor did any heart lack its equal share of the feast. But when the sun set and darkness came on, they then lay down to rest and took the gift of sleep.

But when the early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, they set out to the hunt, both the hounds and themselves, the sons of Autolycus; and with them went godlike Odysseus. They climbed the steep, forest-clad mountain of Parnassus, and soon reached its windy dells. The sun was then just striking the fields, rising from the slow, deep-flowing stream of Ocean, when the beaters reached a wooded glen. And before them the hounds went on, searching for tracks, and behind them came the sons of Autolycus; and with them godlike Odysseus followed close behind the hounds, brandishing his long-shadowed spear. And there in a thick lair lay a great boar. Neither could the force of the wet-blowing winds penetrate it, nor did the shining sun strike it with its rays, nor could the rain pass straight through it, so thick it was; and within was a great shedding of fallen leaves.

The sound of the feet of men and dogs came upon him as they advanced, driving him. And he came out to face them from his thicket, bristling his neck-mane, with fire flashing in his eyes, and stood at bay close to them. And Odysseus was the very first to rush forward, raising the long spear in his stout hand, eager to wound him. But the boar, striking first, charged him above the knee, and with a sideways lunge tore a great piece of flesh with its tusk, though it did not reach the bone of the man. But Odysseus struck him, hitting him on the right shoulder, and the point of the shining spear went clean through. And he fell in the dust with a squeal, and his spirit flew from him. Then the dear sons of Autolycus busied themselves about him, and the wound of the blameless, godlike Odysseus they bound up skillfully, and with a charm they staunched the black blood, and quickly they came to the house of their dear father. And when Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus had healed him well and given him splendid gifts, they swiftly sent him away rejoicing to his own friends, who rejoiced also, to Ithaca. And there his father and queenly mother rejoiced at his return and questioned him about everything, how he had received the scar; and he told them the full story, how a boar had struck him with its white tusk while he was hunting on Parnassus, having gone there with the sons of Autolycus.

This scar the old woman, taking it in her down-turned hands, recognized by touch, and let the foot drop to be carried away. The shin fell into the basin, and the bronze rang out, and it tilted to one side; and the water spilled out upon the ground. Joy and sorrow seized her heart at once; her two eyes filled with tears, and her rich voice was caught in her throat. And touching his chin, she spoke to Odysseus:

"Truly you are Odysseus, dear child, and I did not know you before, not until I had touched my master all over."

She spoke, and glanced with her eyes toward Penelope, wishing to make known to her that her dear husband was within. But she could neither look toward them nor perceive it, for Athene had turned her mind aside. But Odysseus, reaching out, seized her throat with his right hand, and with the other he drew her closer to him and spoke:

"Nurse, why do you wish to destroy me? You yourself did nurse me at your own breast. And now, having toiled through many sorrows, I have come in the twentieth year to my native land. But since you have understood, and a god has put it in your heart, be silent, lest someone else in the halls should learn of it. For I will speak thus, and know that it will be fulfilled: if a god should subdue the noble suitors beneath my hand, I will not spare even you, though you were my nurse, when I slay the other serving-women in my halls."

To him in turn prudent Eurycleia replied: "My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth! You know my spirit, how steadfast and unyielding it is. I shall hold firm, like solid stone or iron. And I will tell you another thing, and you must cast it in your heart: if a god should subdue the noble suitors beneath your hand, I will then recount for you the women in your halls, those who dishonor you and those who are guiltless."

Answering her, Odysseus of many wiles said: "Nurse, why should you speak of them? There is no need for you. I myself will mark them well and know each one. But keep your counsel in silence, and entrust the outcome to the gods."

So he spoke, and the old woman went through the great hall to fetch water for his feet, for the first lot had all been spilled. And after she had washed him and anointed him with rich oil, Odysseus again drew his stool closer to the fire to warm himself, and he covered the scar with his rags.

Then prudent Penelope was the first to speak: "Stranger, I will ask you just one small thing more. For soon the hour of sweet rest will come, for any whom sweet sleep seizes, even one burdened by care. But to me a god has given sorrow beyond measure. For by day I find my solace in weeping and lamenting, as I look to my own tasks and those of my handmaids in the house. But when night comes and sleep takes hold of all, I lie on my bed, and thick about my racing heart sharp cares arise and torment me as I weep. As when Pandareus's daughter, the pale-green nightingale, sings her beautiful song as spring is newly beginning, perched in the thick leaves of the trees, and she pours forth her rich voice, ever-changing, lamenting her dear son Itylus, whom once with a sword of bronze she killed through her folly, the son of King Zethus; so too my own heart is torn in two directions, whether I should remain beside my son and keep all things steadfast— my property, my serving-women, and this great, high-roofed house— revering my husband's bed and the people's voice, or whether I should go now with whichever Achaean is best, who woos me in the halls, offering boundless bridal gifts. For my son, while he was still a child and light of mind, would not allow me to marry and leave my husband's house. But now that he is grown and has reached the measure of manhood, he even begs me to return from the hall, grieved by the wealth which the Achaeans devour before his eyes. But come, interpret this dream for me, and listen. I have twenty geese in my house that eat wheat from the water, and I take delight in watching them. But a great eagle with a crooked beak came down from the mountain and broke all their necks and killed them. And they lay strewn in a heap in the halls, while he soared into the divine ether. And I, even in my dream, cried out and wailed, and the fair-tressed Achaean women gathered around me as I lamented pitifully that the eagle had killed my geese. But he came back and settled on a jutting roof-beam, and with a mortal voice he checked me and spoke: 'Take heart, daughter of far-famed Icarius. This is no dream, but a noble vision that shall be fulfilled for you. The geese are the suitors, and I, the eagle, was a bird before, but now I have come back as your husband, and I shall visit a shameful doom upon all the suitors.' So he spoke, and then honey-sweet sleep released me. And peering about, I saw the geese in the hall, eating wheat from their trough, just where they were before."

Answering her, Odysseus of many wiles said: "O lady, it is in no way possible to interpret this dream by turning it another way, since Odysseus himself has indeed shown you how he will bring it to pass. For the suitors, destruction is manifest, for all of them; not one shall escape death and the fates."

To him in turn prudent Penelope replied: "Stranger, dreams are truly baffling, their words unclear, and in no way do all things come to pass for men. For there are two gates for insubstantial dreams; one is fashioned of horn, and the other of ivory. Those dreams that come through the gate of sawn ivory, they deceive us, bearing words that will not be fulfilled. But those that come forth through the gate of polished horn, they bring true things to pass, whenever a mortal sees them. But I do not think my own dread dream came from there; truly that would be welcome to me and to my son. And I will tell you another thing, and you must cast it in your heart: this is the very dawn of ill name that will take me from the house of Odysseus; for now I will propose a contest, the axes, those that he used to set up in his own halls in a row, like ship's timbers, twelve in all. And standing a great way off, he would shoot an arrow clean through. Now I will set this contest before the suitors. And whoever can most easily string the bow in his hands and shoot through all twelve of the axes, with him I would go, leaving behind this house of my marriage, so very beautiful, so full of livelihood, which I think I shall remember forever, even in my dreams."

Answering her, Odysseus of many wiles said: "O honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, do not now postpone this contest in your halls, for wily Odysseus will be here among you before these men, handling this polished bow, can string the sinew and shoot an arrow through the iron."

To him in turn prudent Penelope replied: "If you were willing, stranger, to sit beside me in the halls and delight me, sleep would not be shed upon my eyelids. But it is in no way possible for men to be sleepless forever; for the immortals have appointed a portion of all things to mortals upon the grain-giving earth. But as for me, I will go up to my upper chamber and lie down upon my bed, which has become a place of sorrow for me, always drenched with my tears, ever since Odysseus departed to see that Evil Ilium, which should not be named. There I shall lie down; but you lie down here in this house, either making a bed on the ground, or let them set down bedding for you."

So saying, she went up to her shining upper chamber, not alone, for with her went her other handmaids as well. And going up to her chamber with her serving-women, she then wept for Odysseus, her dear husband, until gleaming-eyed Athene cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.

ὈΔΎΣΣΕΙΑ 19

Αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐν μεγάρῳ ὑπελείπετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
μνηστήρεσσι φόνον σὺν Ἀθήνῃ μερμηρίζων.
αἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

«Τηλέμαχε, χρὴ τεύχε' ἀρήϊα κατθέμεν εἴσω
πάντα μάλ', αὐτὰρ μνηστῆρας μαλακοῖσ' ἐπέεσσι
παρφάσθαι, ὅτε κέν σε μεταλλῶσιν ποθέοντες·
«ἐκ καπνοῦ κατέθηκ', ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τοῖσιν ἐῴκει,

οἷά ποτε Τροίηνδε κιὼν κατέλειπεν Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἀλλὰ κατῄκισται, ὅσσον πυρὸς ἵκετ' ἀϋτμή.
πρὸς δ' ἔτι καὶ τόδε μεῖζον ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἔμβαλε δαίμων·
μή πως οἰνωθέντες, ἔριν στήσαντες ἐν ὑμῖν,
ἀλλήλους τρώσητε καταισχύνητέ τε δαῖτα
καὶ μνηστύν· αὐτὸς γὰρ ἐφέλκεται ἄνδρα σίδηρος.»

ὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ φίλῳ ἐπεπείθετο πατρί,
ἐκ δὲ καλεσσάμενος προσέφη τροφὸν Εὐρύκλειαν·

«μαῖ', ἄγε δή μοι ἔρυξον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναῖκας,
ὄφρα κεν ἐς θάλαμον καταθείομαι ἔντεα πατρός,
καλά, τά μοι κατὰ οἶκον ἀκηδέα καπνὸς ἀμέρδει
πατρὸς ἀποιχομένοιο· ἐγὼ δ' ἔτι νήπιος ἦα·
νῦν δ' ἐθέλω καταθέσθαι, ἵν' οὐ πυρὸς ἵξετ' ἀϋτμή.»

τὸν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
«αἲ γὰρ δή ποτε, τέκνον, ἐπιφροσύνας ἀνέλοιο
οἴκου κήδεσθαι καὶ κτήματα πάντα φυλάσσειν.
ἀλλ' ἄγε, τίς τοι ἔπειτα μετοιχομένη φάος οἴσει;
δμῳὰς δ' οὐκ εἴας προβλωσκέμεν, αἵ κεν ἔφαινον.»

τὴν δ' αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
«ξεῖνος ὅδ'· οὐ γὰρ ἀεργὸν ἀνέξομαι, ὅς κεν ἐμῆς γε
χοίνικος ἅπτηται, καὶ τηλόθεν εἰληλουθώς.»

ὣς ἄρ' ἐφώνησεν, τῇ δ' ἄπτερος ἔπλετο μῦθος·
κλήϊσεν δὲ θύρας μεγάρων ἐῢ ναιεταόντων.
τὼ δ' ἄρ' ἀναΐξαντ' Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ φαίδιμος υἱὸς
ἐσφόρεον κόρυθάς τε καὶ ἀσπίδας ὀμφαλοέσσας
ἔγχεά τ' ὀξυόεντα· πάροιθε δὲ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
χρύσεον λύχνον ἔχουσα φάος περικαλλὲς ἐποίει.
δὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεεν ὃν πατέρ' αἶψα·

«ὦ πάτερ, ἦ μέγα θαῦμα τόδ' ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι·
ἔμπης μοι τοῖχοι μεγάρων καλαί τε μεσόδμαι
εἰλάτιναί τε δοκοὶ καὶ κίονες ὑψόσ' ἔχοντες
φαίνοντ' ὀφθαλμοῖσ' ὡς εἰ πυρὸς αἰθομένοιο.
ἦ μάλα τις θεὸς ἔνδον, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«σίγα καὶ κατὰ σὸν νόον ἴσχανε μηδ' ἐρέεινε·
αὕτη τοι δίκη ἐστὶ θεῶν, οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν.
ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν κατάλεξαι, ἐγὼ δ' ὑπολείψομαι αὐτοῦ,
ὄφρα κ' ἔτι δμῳὰς καὶ μητέρα σὴν ἐρεθίζω·
ἡ δέ μ' ὀδυρομένη εἰρήσεται ἀμφὶς ἕκαστα.»

ὣς φάτο, Τηλέμαχος δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει
κείων ἐς θάλαμον δαΐδων ὕπο λαμπομενάων,
ἔνθα πάρος κοιμᾶθ', ὅτε μιν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἱκάνοι·
ἔνθ' ἄρα καὶ τότ' ἔλεκτο καὶ Ἠῶ δῖαν ἔμιμνεν.
αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐν μεγάρῳ ὑπελείπετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
μνηστήρεσσι φόνον σὺν Ἀθήνῃ μερμηρίζων.

ἡ δ' ἴεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
Ἀρτέμιδι ἰκέλη ἠὲ χρυσῇ Ἀφροδίτῃ.
τῇ παρὰ μὲν κλισίην πυρὶ κάτθεσαν, ἔνθ' ἄρ' ἐφῖζε,
δινωτὴν ἐλέφαντι καὶ ἀργύρῳ, ἥν ποτε τέκτων
ποίησ' Ἰκμάλιος καὶ ὑπὸ θρῆνυν ποσὶν ἧκε
προσφυέ' ἐξ αὐτῆς, ὅθ' ἐπὶ μέγα βάλλετο κῶας.
ἔνθα καθέζετ' ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια.

ἦλθον δὲ δμῳαὶ λευκώλενοι ἐκ μεγάροιο.
αἱ δ' ἀπὸ μὲν σῖτον πολὺν ᾕρεον ἠδὲ τραπέζας
καὶ δέπα, ἔνθεν ἄρ' ἄνδρες ὑπερμενέοντες ἔπινον·
πῦρ δ' ἀπὸ λαμπτήρων χαμάδις βάλον, ἄλλα δ' ἐπ' αὐτῶν
νήησαν ξύλα πολλά, φόως ἔμεν ἠδὲ θέρεσθαι.
ἡ δ' Ὀδυσῆ' ἐνένιπε Μελανθὼ δεύτερον αὖτις·

«ξεῖν', ἔτι καὶ νῦν ἐνθάδ' ἀνιήσεις διὰ νύκτα
δινεύων κατὰ οἶκον, ὀπιπεύσεις δὲ γυναῖκας;
ἀλλ' ἔξελθε θύραζε, τάλαν, καὶ δαιτὸς ὄνησο·
ἢ τάχα καὶ δαλῷ βεβλημένος εἶσθα θύραζε.»

τὴν δ' ἄρ' ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«δαιμονίη, τί μοι ὧδ' ἐπέχεις κεκοτηότι θυμῷ;
ἦ ὅτι δὴ ῥυπόω, κακὰ δὲ χροῒ εἵματα εἷμαι,
πτωχεύω δ' ἀνὰ δῆμον; ἀναγκαίη γὰρ ἐπείγει.
τοιοῦτοι πτωχοὶ καὶ ἀλήμονες ἄνδρες ἔασι.
καὶ γὰρ ἐγώ ποτε οἶκον ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἔναιον
ὄλβιος ἀφνειὸν καὶ πολλάκι δόσκον ἀλήτῃ
τοίῳ, ὁποῖος ἔοι καὶ ὅτευ κεχρημένος ἔλθοι·
ἦσαν δὲ δμῶες μάλα μυρίοι ἄλλα τε πολλά,
οἷσίν τ' εὖ ζώουσι καὶ ἀφνειοὶ καλέονται.
ἀλλὰ Ζεὺς ἀλάπαξε Κρονίων· ἤθελε γάρ που.
τῶ νῦν μή ποτε καὶ σύ, γύναι, ἀπὸ πᾶσαν ὀλέσσῃς
ἀγλαΐην, τῇ νῦν γε μετὰ δμῳῇσι κέκασσαι,
ἤν πώς τοι δέσποινα κοτεσσαμένη χαλεπήνῃ
ἢ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔλθῃ· ἔτι γὰρ καὶ ἐλπίδος αἶσα.
εἰ δ' ὁ μὲν ὣς ἀπόλωλε καὶ οὐκέτι νόστιμός ἐστιν,
ἀλλ' ἤδη παῖς τοῖος Ἀπόλλωνός γε ἕκητι,
Τηλέμαχος· τὸν δ' οὔ τις ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναικῶν
λήθει ἀτασθάλλουσ', ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι τηλίκος ἐστίν.»

ὣς φάτο, τοῦ δ' ἤκουσε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
ἀμφίπολον δ' ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τ' ἔφατ' ἔκ τ' ὀνόμαζε·

«πάντως, θαρσαλέη, κύον ἀδδεές, οὔ τί με λήθεις
ἕρδουσα μέγα ἔργον, ὃ σῇ κεφαλῇ ἀναμάξεις.
πάντα γὰρ εὖ ᾔδησθ', ἐπεὶ ἐξ ἐμεῦ ἔκλυες αὐτῆς,
ὡς τὸν ξεῖνον ἔμελλον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσιν
ἀμφὶ πόσει εἴρεσθαι, ἐπεὶ πυκινῶς ἀκάχημαι.»

ἦ ῥα, καὶ Εὐρυνόμην ταμίην πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
«Εὐρυνόμη, φέρε δὴ δίφρον καὶ κῶας ἐπ' αὐτοῦ,
ὄφρα καθεζόμενος εἴπῃ ἔπος ἠδ' ἐπακούσῃ
ὁ ξεῖνος ἐμέθεν· ἐθέλω δέ μιν ἐξερέεσθαι.»

ὣς ἔφαθ', ἡ δὲ μάλ' ὀτραλέως κατέθηκε φέρουσα
δίφρον ἐΰξεστον καὶ ἐπ' αὐτῷ κῶας ἔβαλλεν·
ἔνθα καθέζετ' ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·

«ξεῖνε, τὸ μέν σε πρῶτον ἐγὼν εἰρήσομαι αὐτή·
τίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὦ γύναι, οὐκ ἄν τίς σε βροτῶν ἐπ' ἀπείρονα γαῖαν
νεικέοι· ἦ γάρ σευ κλέος οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἱκάνει,
ὥς τέ τευ ἦ βασιλῆος ἀμύμονος, ὅς τε θεουδὴς
ἀνδράσιν ἐν πολλοῖσι καὶ ἰφθίμοισιν ἀνάσσων
εὐδικίας ἀνέχῃσι, φέρῃσι δὲ γαῖα μέλαινα
πυροὺς καὶ κριθάς, βρίθῃσι δὲ δένδρεα καρπῷ,
τίκτῃ δ' ἔμπεδα μῆλα, θάλασσα δὲ παρέχῃ ἰχθῦς
ἐξ εὐηγεσίης, ἀρετῶσι δὲ λαοὶ ὑπ' αὐτοῦ.
τῶ ἐμὲ νῦν τὰ μὲν ἄλλα μετάλλα σῷ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
μηδέ μοι ἐξερέεινε γένος καὶ πατρίδα γαῖαν,
μή μοι μᾶλλον θυμὸν ἐνιπλήσῃς ὀδυνάων
μνησαμένῳ· μάλα δ' εἰμὶ πολύστονος· οὐδέ τί με χρὴ
οἴκῳ ἐν ἀλλοτρίῳ γοόωντά τε μυρόμενόν τε
ἧσθαι, ἐπεὶ κάκιον πενθήμεναι ἄκριτον αἰεί·
μή τίς μοι δμῳῶν νεμεσήσεται ἠὲ σύ γ' αὐτή,
φῇ δὲ δάκρυ πλώειν βεβαρηότα με φρένας οἴνῳ.»

τὸν δ' ἠμείβετ' ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
«ξεῖν', ἦ τοι μὲν ἐμὴν ἀρετὴν εἶδός τε δέμας τε
ὤλεσαν ἀθάνατοι, ὅτε Ἴλιον εἰσανέβαινον
Ἀργεῖοι, μετὰ τοῖσι δ' ἐμὸς πόσις ᾖεν Ὀδυσσεύς.
εἰ κεῖνός γ' ἐλθὼν τὸν ἐμὸν βίον ἀμφιπολεύοι,
μεῖζόν κε κλέος εἴη ἐμὸν καὶ κάλλιον οὕτω.
νῦν δ' ἄχομαι· τόσα γάρ μοι ἐπέσσευεν κακὰ δαίμων.
ὅσσοι γὰρ νήσοισιν ἐπικρατέουσιν ἄριστοι,
Δουλιχίῳ τε Σάμῃ τε καὶ ὑλήεντι Ζακύνθῳ,
οἵ τ' αὐτὴν Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον ἀμφινέμονται,
οἵ μ' ἀεκαζομένην μνῶνται, τρύχουσι δὲ οἶκον.
τῶ οὔτε ξείνων ἐμπάζομαι οὔθ' ἱκετάων
οὔτε τι κηρύκων, οἳ δημιοεργοὶ ἔασιν·
ἀλλ' Ὀδυσῆ ποθέουσα φίλον κατατήκομαι ἦτορ.
οἱ δὲ γάμον σπεύδουσιν· ἐγὼ δὲ δόλους τολυπεύω.
φᾶρος μέν μοι πρῶτον ἐνέπνευσε φρεσὶ δαίμων
στησαμένῃ μέγαν ἱστὸν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὑφαίνειν,
λεπτὸν καὶ περίμετρον· ἄφαρ δ' αὐτοῖς μετέειπον·
«κοῦροι, ἐμοὶ μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
μίμνετ' ἐπειγόμενοι τὸν ἐμὸν γάμον, εἰς ὅ κε φᾶρος
ἐκτελέσω, μή μοι μεταμώνια νήματ' ὄληται,
Λαέρτῃ ἥρωϊ ταφήϊον, εἰς ὅτε κέν μιν
μοῖρ' ὀλοὴ καθέλῃσι τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο·
μή τίς μοι κατὰ δῆμον Ἀχαιϊάδων νεμεσήσῃ,
αἴ κεν ἄτερ σπείρου κεῖται πολλὰ κτεατίσσας.»
ὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δ' ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
ἔνθα καὶ ἠματίη μὲν ὑφαίνεσκον μέγαν ἱστόν,
νύκτας δ' ἀλλύεσκον, ἐπὴν δαΐδας παραθείμην.
ὣς τρίετες μὲν ἔληθον ἐγὼ καὶ ἔπειθον Ἀχαιούς·

ἀλλ' ὅτε τέτρατον ἦλθεν ἔτος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,
μηνῶν φθινόντων, περὶ δ' ἤματα πόλλ' ἐτελέσθη,
καὶ τότε δή με διὰ δμῳάς, κύνας οὐκ ἀλεγούσας,
εἷλον ἐπελθόντες καὶ ὁμόκλησαν ἐπέεσσιν.
ὣς τὸ μὲν ἐξετέλεσσα καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλουσ', ὑπ' ἀνάγκης·
νῦν δ' οὔτ' ἐκφυγέειν δύναμαι γάμον οὔτε τιν' ἄλλην
μῆτιν ἔθ' εὑρίσκω· μάλα δ' ὀτρύνουσι τοκῆες
γήμασθ', ἀσχαλάᾳ δὲ πάϊς βίοτον κατεδόντων,
γινώσκων· ἤδη γὰρ ἀνὴρ οἷός τε μάλιστα
οἴκου κήδεσθαι, τῷ τε Ζεὺς ὄλβον ὀπάζει.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὧς μοι εἰπὲ τεὸν γένος, ὁππόθεν ἐσσί·
οὐ γὰρ ἀπὸ δρυός ἐσσι παλαιφάτου οὐδ' ἀπὸ πέτρης.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
οὐκέτ' ἀπολλήξεις τὸν ἐμὸν γόνον ἐξερέουσα;
ἀλλ' ἔκ τοι ἐρέω. ἦ μέν μ' ἀχέεσσί γε δώσεις
πλείοσιν ἢ ἔχομαι· ἡ γὰρ δίκη, ὁππότε πάτρης
ἧς ἀπέῃσιν ἀνὴρ τόσσον χρόνον ὅσσον ἐγὼ νῦν,
πολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστε' ἀλώμενος, ἄλγεα πάσχων.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὧς ἐρέω ὅ μ' ἀνείρεαι ἠδὲ μεταλλᾷς.
Κρήτη τις γαῖ' ἔστι μέσῳ ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ,
καλὴ καὶ πίειρα, περίῤῥυτος· ἐν δ' ἄνθρωποι
πολλοὶ ἀπειρέσιοι, καὶ ἐννήκοντα πόληες· -
ἄλλη δ' ἄλλων γλῶσσα μεμιγμένη· ἐν μὲν Ἀχαιοί,
ἐν δ' Ἐτεόκρητες μεγαλήτορες, ἐν δὲ Κύδωνες
Δωριέες τε τριχάϊκες δῖοί τε Πελασγοί· -
τῇσι δ' ἐνὶ Κνωσός, μεγάλη πόλις, ἔνθα τε Μίνως
ἐννέωρος βασίλευε Διὸς μεγάλου ὀαριστής,
πατρὸς ἐμοῖο πατήρ, μεγαθύμου Δευκαλίωνος.
Δευκαλίων δ' ἐμὲ τίκτε καὶ Ἰδομενῆα ἄνακτα·
ἀλλ' ὁ μὲν ἐν νήεσσι κορωνίσιν Ἴλιον εἴσω
ᾤχεθ' ἅμ' Ἀτρεΐδῃσιν· ἐμοὶ δ' ὄνομα κλυτὸν Αἴθων,
ὁπλότερος γενεῇ· ὁ δ' ἅμα πρότερος καὶ ἀρείων.
ἔνθ' Ὀδυσῆα ἐγὼν ἰδόμην καὶ ξείνια δῶκα.
καὶ γὰρ τὸν Κρήτηνδε κατήγαγεν ἲς ἀνέμοιο
ἱέμενον Τροίηνδε, παραπλάγξασα Μαλειῶν·
στῆσε δ' ἐν Ἀμνισῷ, ὅθι τε σπέος Εἰλειθυίης,
ἐν λιμέσιν χαλεποῖσι, μόγις δ' ὑπάλυξεν ἀέλλας.
αὐτίκα δ' Ἰδομενῆα μετάλλα ἄστυδ' ἀνελθών·
ξεῖνον γάρ οἱ ἔφασκε φίλον τ' ἔμεν αἰδοῖόν τε.
τῷ δ' ἤδη δεκάτη ἢ ἑνδεκάτη πέλεν ἠὼς
οἰχομένῳ σὺν νηυσὶ κορωνίσιν Ἴλιον εἴσω.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ πρὸς δώματ' ἄγων ἐῢ ἐξείνισσα,
ἐνδυκέως φιλέων, πολλῶν κατὰ οἶκον ἐόντων·
καί οἱ τοῖς ἄλλοισ' ἑτάροισ', οἳ ἅμ' αὐτῷ ἕποντο,
δημόθεν ἄλφιτα δῶκα καὶ αἴθοπα οἶνον ἀγείρας
καὶ βοῦς ἱρεύσασθαι, ἵνα πλησαίατο θυμόν.
ἔνθα δυώδεκα μὲν μένον ἤματα δῖοι Ἀχαιοί·
εἴλει γὰρ βορέης ἄνεμος μέγας οὐδ' ἐπὶ γαίῃ
εἴα ἵστασθαι, χαλεπὸς δέ τις ὤρορε δαίμων·
τῇ τρεισκαιδεκάτῃ δ' ἄνεμος πέσε, τοὶ δ' ἀνάγοντο.»

ἴσκε ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγων ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα·
τῆς δ' ἄρ' ἀκουούσης ῥέε δάκρυα, τήκετο δὲ χρώς.
ὡς δὲ χιὼν κατατήκετ' ἐν ἀκροπόλοισιν ὄρεσσιν,
ἥν τ' εὖρος κατέτηξεν, ἐπὴν ζέφυρος καταχεύῃ,
τηκομένης δ' ἄρα τῆς ποταμοὶ πλήθουσι ῥέοντες·
ὣς τῆς τήκετο καλὰ παρήϊα δάκρυ χεούσης,
κλαιούσης ἑὸν ἄνδρα, παρήμενον. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
θυμῷ μὲν γοόωσαν ἑὴν ἐλέαιρε γυναῖκα,
ὀφθαλμοὶ δ' ὡς εἰ κέρα ἕστασαν ἠὲ σίδηρος
ἀτρέμας ἐν βλεφάροισι· δόλῳ δ' ὅ γε δάκρυα κεῦθεν.

ἡ δ' ἐπεὶ οὖν τάρφθη πολυδακρύτοιο γόοιο,
ἐξαῦτίς μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε·

«νῦν μὲν δή σευ ξεῖνέ γ' ὀΐω πειρήσεσθαι,
εἰ ἐτεὸν δὴ κεῖθι σὺν ἀντιθέοισ' ἑτάροισι
ξείνισας ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμὸν πόσιν, ὡς ἀγορεύεις.
εἰπέ μοι, ὁπποῖ' ἄσσα περὶ χροῒ εἵματα ἕστο,
αὐτός θ' οἷος ἔην, καὶ ἑταίρους, οἵ οἱ ἕποντο.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὦ γύναι, ἀργαλέον τόσσον χρόνον ἀμφὶς ἐόντα
εἰπεῖν· ἤδη γὰρ τόδ' ἐεικοστὸν ἔτος ἐστίν,
ἐξ οὗ κεῖθεν ἔβη καὶ ἐμῆς ἀπελήλυθε πάτρης·
αὐτάρ τοι ἐρέω, ὥς μοι ἰνδάλλεται ἦτορ.
χλαῖναν πορφυρέην οὔλην ἔχε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
διπλῆν· ἐν δ' ἄρα οἱ περόνη χρυσοῖο τέτυκτο
αὐλοῖσιν διδύμοισι· πάροιθε δὲ δαίδαλον ἦεν·
ἐν προτέροισι πόδεσσι κύων ἔχε ποικίλον ἐλλόν,
ἀσπαίροντα λάων· τὸ δὲ θαυμάζεσκον ἅπαντες,
ὡς οἱ χρύσεοι ἐόντες ὁ μὲν λάε νεβρὸν ἀπάγχων,
αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐκφυγέειν μεμαὼς ἤσπαιρε πόδεσσι.
τὸν δὲ χιτῶν' ἐνόησα περὶ χροῒ σιγαλόεντα,
οἷόν τε κρομύοιο λοπὸν κάτα ἰσχαλέοιο·
τὼς μὲν ἔην μαλακός, λαμπρὸς δ' ἦν ἠέλιος ὥς.
ἦ μὲν πολλαί γ' αὐτὸν ἐθηήσαντο γυναῖκες.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δ' ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·
οὐκ οἶδ', ἢ τάδε ἕστο περὶ χροῒ οἴκοθ' Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἦ τις ἑταίρων δῶκε θοῆς ἐπὶ νηὸς ἰόντι
ἤ τίς που καὶ ξεῖνος, ἐπεὶ πολλοῖσιν Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἔσκε φίλος· παῦροι γὰρ Ἀχαιῶν ἦσαν ὁμοῖοι.
καί οἱ ἐγὼ χάλκειον ἄορ καὶ δίπλακα δῶκα
καλὴν πορφυρέην καὶ τερμιόεντα χιτῶνα,
αἰδοίως δ' ἀπέπεμπον ἐϋσσέλμου ἐπὶ νηός.
καὶ μέν οἱ κῆρυξ ὀλίγον προγενέστερος αὐτοῦ
εἵπετο· καὶ τόν τοι μυθήσομαι, οἷος ἔην περ·
γυρὸς ἐν ὤμοισιν, μελανόχροος, οὐλοκάρηνος,
Εὐρυβάτης δ' ὄνομ' ἔσκε· τίεν δέ μιν ἔξοχον ἄλλων
ὧν ἑτάρων Ὀδυσεύς, ὅτι οἱ φρεσὶν ἄρτια ᾔδη.»

ὣς φάτο, τῇ δ' ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑφ' ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο
σήματ' ἀναγνούσῃ, τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδ' Ὀδυσσεύς.
ἡ δ' ἐπεὶ οὖν τάρφθη πολυδακρύτοιο γόοιο,
καὶ τότε μιν μύθοισιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε·

«νῦν μὲν δή μοι, ξεῖνε, πάρος περ ἐὼν ἐλεεινός,
ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσι φίλος τ' ἔσῃ αἰδοῖός τε·
αὐτὴ γὰρ τάδε εἵματ' ἐγὼ πόρον, οἷ' ἀγορεύεις,
πτύξασ' ἐκ θαλάμου, περόνην τ' ἐπέθηκα φαεινὴν
κείνῳ ἄγαλμ' ἔμεναι. τὸν δ' οὐχ ὑποδέξομαι αὖτις
οἴκαδε νοστήσαντα φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
τῶ ῥα κακῇ αἴσῃ κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς
ᾤχετ' ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
μηκέτι νῦν χρόα καλὸν ἐναίρεο μηδέ τι θυμὸν
τῆκε πόσιν γοόωσα. νεμεσσῶμαί γε μὲν οὐδέν·
καὶ γάρ τίς τ' ἀλλοῖον ὀδύρεται ἄνδρ' ὀλέσασα
κουρίδιον, τῷ τέκνα τέκῃ φιλότητι μιγεῖσα,
ἢ Ὀδυσῆ', ὅν φασι θεοῖσ' ἐναλίγκιον εἶναι.
ἀλλὰ γόου μὲν παῦσαι, ἐμεῖο δὲ σύνθεο μῦθον·
νημερτέως γάρ τοι μυθήσομαι οὐδ' ἐπικεύσω,
ὡς ἤδη Ὀδυσῆος ἐγὼ περὶ νόστου ἄκουσα
ἀγχοῦ, Θεσπρωτῶν ἀνδρῶν ἐν πίονι δήμῳ,
ζωοῦ· αὐτὰρ ἄγει κειμήλια πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλά,
αἰτίζων ἀνὰ δῆμον. ἀτὰρ ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους
ὤλεσε καὶ νῆα γλαφυρὴν ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ,
Θρινακίης ἄπο νήσου ἰών· ὀδύσαντο γὰρ αὐτῷ
Ζεύς τε καὶ Ἠέλιος· τοῦ γὰρ βόας ἔκταν ἑταῖροι.
οἱ μὲν πάντες ὄλοντο πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ·
τὸν δ' ἄρ' ἐπὶ τρόπιος νηὸς βάλε κῦμ' ἐπὶ χέρσου,
Φαιήκων ἐς γαῖαν, οἳ ἀγχίθεοι γεγάασιν·
οἳ δή μιν περὶ κῆρι θεὸν ὣς τιμήσαντο
καί οἱ πολλὰ δόσαν πέμπειν τέ μιν ἤθελον αὐτοὶ
οἴκαδ' ἀπήμαντον. καί κεν πάλαι ἐνθάδ' Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἤην· ἀλλ' ἄρα οἱ τό γε κέρδιον εἴσατο θυμῷ,
χρήματ' ἀγυρτάζειν πολλὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἰόντι·
ὣς περὶ κέρδεα πολλὰ καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων
οἶδ' Ὀδυσεύς, οὐδ' ἄν τις ἐρίσσειε βροτὸς ἄλλος.
ὥς μοι Θεσπρωτῶν βασιλεὺς μυθήσατο Φείδων·
ὤμνυε 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.
καί μοι κτήματ' ἔδειξεν, ὅσα ξυναγείρατ' Ὀδυσσεύς·
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 νοστήσειε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
ἤδη δὴν ἀπεών, ἢ ἀμφαδὸν ἦε κρυφηδόν.
ὣς ὁ μὲν οὕτως ἐστὶ σόος καὶ ἐλεύσεται ἤδη
ἄγχι μάλ', οὐδ' ἔτι τῆλε φίλων καὶ πατρίδος αἴης
δηρὸν ἀπεσσεῖται· ἔμπης δέ τοι ὅρκια δώσω.
ἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα, θεῶν ὕπατος καὶ ἄριστος,
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.»

τὸν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
«αἲ γὰρ τοῦτο, ξεῖνε, ἔπος τετελεσμένον εἴη·
τῶ κε τάχα γνοίης φιλότητά τε πολλά τε δῶρα
ἐξ ἐμεῦ, ὡς ἄν τίς σε συναντόμενος μακαρίζοι.
ἀλλά μοι ὧδ' ἀνὰ θυμὸν ὀΐεται, ὡς ἔσεταί περ·
οὔτ' Ὀδυσεὺς ἔτι οἶκον ἐλεύσεται, οὔτε σὺ πομπῆς
τεύξῃ, ἐπεὶ οὐ τοῖοι σημάντορές εἰσ' ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
οἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκε μετ' ἀνδράσιν, εἴ ποτ' ἔην γε,
ξείνους αἰδοίους ἀποπεμπέμεν ἠδὲ δέχεσθαι.
ἀλλά μιν, ἀμφίπολοι, ἀπονίψατε, κάτθετε δ' εὐνήν,
δέμνια καὶ χλαίνας καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα,
ὥς κ' εὖ θαλπιόων χρυσόθρονον Ἠῶ ἵκηται.
ἠῶθεν δὲ μάλ' ἦρι λοέσσαι τε χρῖσαί τε,
ὥς κ' ἔνδον παρὰ Τηλεμάχῳ δείπνοιο μέδηται
ἥμενος ἐν μεγάρῳ. τῷ δ' ἄλγιον, ὅς κεν ἐκείνων
τοῦτον ἀνιάζῃ θυμοφθόρος· οὐδέ τι ἔργον
ἐνθάδ' ἔτι πρήξει, μάλα περ κεχολωμένος αἰνῶς.
πῶς γὰρ ἐμεῦ σύ, ξεῖνε, δαήσεαι, εἴ τι γυναικῶν
ἀλλάων περίειμι νόον καὶ ἐπίφρονα μῆτιν,
εἴ κεν ἀϋσταλέος, κακὰ εἱμένος ἐν μεγάροισι
δαινύῃ; ἄνθρωποι δὲ μινυνθάδιοι τελέθουσιν.
ὃς μὲν ἀπηνὴς αὐτὸς ἔῃ καὶ ἀπηνέα εἰδῇ,
τῷ δὲ καταρῶνται πάντες βροτοὶ ἄλγε' ὀπίσσω
ζωῷ, ἀτὰρ τεθνεῶτί γ' ἐφεψιόωνται ἅπαντες·
ὃς δ' ἂν ἀμύμων αὐτὸς ἔῃ καὶ ἀμύμονα εἰδῇ,
τοῦ μέν τε κλέος εὐρὺ διὰ ξεῖνοι φορέουσι
πάντας ἐπ' ἀνθρώπους, πολλοί τέ μιν ἐσθλὸν ἔειπον.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
ἦ τοι ἐμοὶ χλαῖναι καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα
ἤχθεθ', ὅτε πρῶτον Κρήτης ὄρεα νιφόεντα
νοσφισάμην ἐπὶ νηὸς ἰὼν δολιχηρέτμοιο·
κείω δ' ὡς τὸ πάρος περ ἀΰπνους νύκτας ἴαυον.
πολλὰς γὰρ δὴ νύκτας ἀεικελίῳ ἐνὶ κοίτῃ
ἄεσα καί τ' ἀνέμεινα ἐΰθρονον Ἠῶ δῖαν.
οὐδέ τί μοι ποδάνιπτρα ποδῶν ἐπιήρανα θυμῷ
γίνεται· οὐδὲ γυνὴ ποδὸς ἅψεται ἡμετέροιο
τάων, αἵ τοι δῶμα κάτα δρήστειραι ἔασιν,
εἰ μή τις γρηῦς ἐστι παλαιή, κεδνὰ ἰδυῖα,
ἥ τις δὴ τέτληκε τόσα φρεσὶν ὅσσα τ' ἐγώ περ·
τῇ δ' οὐκ ἂν φθονέοιμι ποδῶν ἅψασθαι ἐμεῖο.»

τὸν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
«ξεῖνε φίλ'· οὐ γάρ πώ τις ἀνὴρ πεπνυμένος ὧδε
ξείνων τηλεδαπῶν φιλίων ἐμὸν ἵκετο δῶμα,
ὡς σὺ μάλ' εὐφραδέως πεπνυμένα πάντ' ἀγορεύεις·
ἔστι δέ μοι γρηῢς πυκινὰ φρεσὶ μήδε' ἔχουσα,
ἣ κεῖνον δύστηνον ἐῢ τρέφεν ἠδ' ἀτίταλλε
δεξαμένη χείρεσσ', ὅτε μιν πρῶτον τέκε μήτηρ·
ἥ σε πόδας νίψει, ὀλιγηπελέουσά περ ἔμπης.
ἀλλ' ἄγε νῦν ἀνστᾶσα, περίφρων Εὐρύκλεια,
νίψον σοῖο ἄνακτος ὁμήλικα· καί που Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἤδη τοιόσδ' ἐστὶ πόδας τοιόσδε τε χεῖρας·
αἶψα γὰρ ἐν κακότητι βροτοὶ καταγηράσκουσιν.»

ὣς ἄρ' ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ κατέσχετο χερσὶ πρόσωπα,
δάκρυα δ' ἔκβαλε θερμά, ἔπος δ' ὀλοφυδνὸν ἔειπεν·

«ὤ μοι ἐγὼ σέο, τέκνον, ἀμήχανος· ἦ σε περὶ Ζεὺς
ἀνθρώπων ἤχθηρε θεουδέα θυμὸν ἔχοντα.
οὐ γάρ πώ τις τόσσα βροτῶν Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ
πίονα μηρί' ἔκη' οὐδ' ἐξαίτους ἑκατόμβας,
ὅσσα σὺ τῷ ἐδίδους ἀρώμενος, εἷος ἵκοιο
γῆράς τε λιπαρὸν θρέψαιό τε φαίδιμον υἱόν·
νῦν δέ τοι οἴῳ πάμπαν ἀφείλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.
οὕτω που καὶ κείνῳ ἐφεψιόωντο γυναῖκες
ξείνων τηλεδαπῶν, ὅτε τευ κλυτὰ δώμαθ' ἵκοιτο,
ὡς σέθεν αἱ κύνες αἵδε καθεψιόωνται ἅπασαι,
τάων νῦν λώβην τε καὶ αἴσχεα πόλλ' ἀλεείνων
οὐκ ἐάᾳς νίζειν· ἐμὲ δ' οὐκ ἀέκουσαν ἄνωγε
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρων Πηνελόπεια.
τῶ σε πόδας νίψω ἅμα τ' αὐτῆς Πηνελοπείης
καὶ σέθεν εἵνεκ', ἐπεί μοι ὀρώρεται ἔνδοθι θυμὸς
κήδεσιν. ἀλλ' ἄγε νῦν ξυνίει ἔπος, ὅττι κεν εἴπω·
πολλοὶ δὴ ξεῖνοι ταλαπείριοι ἐνθάδ' ἵκοντο,
ἀλλ' οὔ πώ τινά φημι ἐοικότα ὧδε ἰδέσθαι
ὡς σὺ δέμας φωνήν τε πόδας τ' Ὀδυσῆϊ ἔοικας.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὦ γρηῦ, οὕτω φασὶν ὅσοι ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν
ἡμέας ἀμφοτέρους, μάλα εἰκέλω ἀλλήλοιϊν
ἔμμεναι, ὡς σύ περ αὐτὴ ἐπιφρονέουσ' ἀγορεύεις.»

ὣς ἄρ' ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ λέβηθ' ἕλε παμφανόωντα,
τῷ πόδας ἐξαπένιζεν, ὕδωρ δ' ἐνεχεύατο πολλόν,
ψυχρόν, ἔπειτα δὲ θερμὸν ἐπήφυσεν. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἷζεν ἀπ' ἐσχαρόφιν, ποτὶ δὲ σκότον ἐτράπετ' αἶψα·
αὐτίκα γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ὀΐσατο, μή ἑ λαβοῦσα
οὐλὴν ἀμφράσσαιτο καὶ ἀμφαδὰ ἔργα γένοιτο.
νίζε δ' ἄρ' ἄσσον ἰοῦσα ἄναχθ' ἑόν· αὐτίκα δ' ἔγνω
οὐλήν, τήν ποτέ μιν σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι
Παρνησόνδ' ἐλθόντα μετ' Αὐτόλυκόν τε καὶ υἷας,
μητρὸς ἑῆς πατέρ' ἐσθλόν, ὃς ἀνθρώπους ἐκέκαστο
κλεπτοσύνῃ θ' ὅρκῳ τε· θεὸς δέ οἱ αὐτὸς ἔδωκεν
Ἑρμείας· τῷ γὰρ κεχαρισμένα μηρία καῖεν
ἀρνῶν ἠδ' ἐρίφων· ὁ δέ οἱ πρόφρων ἅμ' ὀπήδει.
Αὐτόλυκος δ' ἐλθὼν Ἰθάκης ἐς πίονα δῆμον
παῖδα νέον γεγαῶτα κιχήσατο θυγατέρος ἧς·
τόν ῥά οἱ Εὐρύκλεια φίλοισ' ἐπὶ γούνασι θῆκε
παυομένῳ δόρποιο, ἔπος τ' ἔφατ' ἔκ τ' ὀνόμαζεν·

«Αὐτόλυκ', αὐτὸς νῦν ὄνομ' εὕρεο, ὅττι κε θεῖο
παιδὸς παιδὶ φίλῳ· πολυάρητος δέ τοί ἐστι.»

τὴν δ' αὖτ' Αὐτόλυκος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·
«γαμβρὸς ἐμὸς θύγατέρ τε, τίθεσθ' ὄνομ', ὅττι κεν εἴπω·
πολλοῖσιν γὰρ ἐγώ γε ὀδυσσάμενος τόδ' ἱκάνω,
ἀνδράσιν ἠδὲ γυναιξὶν ἀνὰ χθόνα βωτιάνειραν·
τῷ δ' Ὀδυσεὺς ὄνομ' ἔστω ἐπώνυμον. αὐτὰρ ἐγώ γε,
ὁππότ' ἂν ἡβήσας μητρώϊον ἐς μέγα δῶμα
ἔλθῃ Παρνησόνδ', ὅθι πού μοι κτήματ' ἔασι,
τῶν οἱ ἐγὼ δώσω καί μιν χαίροντ' ἀποπέμψω.»

τῶν ἕνεκ' ἦλθ' Ὀδυσεύς, ἵνα οἱ πόροι ἀγλαὰ δῶρα.
τὸν μὲν ἄρ' Αὐτόλυκός τε καὶ υἱέες Αὐτολύκοιο
χερσίν τ' ἠσπάζοντο ἔπεσσί τε μειλιχίοισι·
μήτηρ δ' Ἀμφιθέη μητρὸς περιφῦσ' Ὀδυσῆϊ
κύσσ' ἄρα μιν κεφαλήν τε καὶ ἄμφω φάεα καλά.
Αὐτόλυκος δ' υἱοῖσιν ἐκέκλετο κυδαλίμοισι
δεῖπνον ἐφοπλίσσαι· τοὶ δ' ὀτρύνοντος ἄκουσαν.
αὐτίκα δ' εἰσάγαγον βοῦν ἄρσενα πενταέτηρον·
τὸν δέρον ἀμφί θ' ἕπον καί μιν διέχευαν ἅπαντα
μίστυλλόν τ' ἄρ' ἐπισταμένως πεῖράν τ' ὀβελοῖσιν
ὤπτησάν τε περιφραδέως δάσσαντό τε μοίρας.
ὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα
δαίνυντ', οὐδέ τι θυμὸς ἐδεύετο δαιτὸς ἐΐσης·
ἦμος δ' ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθε,
δὴ τότε κοιμήσαντο καὶ ὕπνου δῶρον ἕλοντο.

ἦμος δ' ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
βάν ῥ' ἴμεν ἐς θήρην, ἠμὲν κύνες ἠδὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ
υἱέες Αὐτολύκου· μετὰ τοῖσι δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἤϊεν· αἰπὺ δ' ὄρος προσέβαν καταειμένον ὕλῃ
Παρνησοῦ, τάχα δ' ἵκανον πτύχας ἠνεμοέσσας.
Ἠέλιος μὲν ἔπειτα νέον προσέβαλλεν ἀρούρας
ἐξ ἀκαλαῤῥείταο βαθυῤῥόου Ὠκεανοῖο,
οἱ δ' ἐς βῆσσαν ἵκανον ἐπακτῆρες· πρὸ δ' ἄρ' αὐτῶν
ἴχνι' ἐρευνῶντες κύνες ἤϊσαν, αὐτὰρ ὄπισθεν
υἱέες Αὐτολύκου· μετὰ τοῖσι δὲ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἤϊεν ἄγχι κυνῶν, κραδάων δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος.
ἔνθα δ' ἄρ' ἐν λόχμῃ πυκινῇ κατέκειτο μέγας σῦς·
τὴν μὲν ἄρ' οὔτ' ἀνέμων διάη μένος ὑγρὸν ἀέντων,
οὔτε μιν ἠέλιος φαέθων ἀκτῖσιν ἔβαλλεν,
οὔτ' ὄμβρος περάασκε διαμπερές· ὣς ἄρα πυκνὴ
ἦεν, ἀτὰρ φύλλων ἐνέην χύσις ἤλιθα πολλή.

τὸν δ' ἀνδρῶν τε κυνῶν τε περὶ κτύπος ἦλθε ποδοῖϊν,
ὡς ἐπάγοντες ἐπῇσαν· ὁ δ' ἀντίος ἐκ ξυλόχοιο,
φρίξας εὖ λοφιήν, πῦρ δ' ὀφθαλμοῖσι δεδορκώς,
στῆ ῥ' αὐτῶν σχεδόθεν. ὁ δ' ἄρα πρώτιστος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἔσσυτ' ἀνασχόμενος δολιχὸν δόρυ χειρὶ παχείῃ,
οὐτάμεναι μεμαώς· ὁ δέ μιν φθάμενος ἔλασεν σῦς
γουνὸς ὕπερ, πολλὸν δὲ διήφυσε σαρκὸς ὀδόντι
λικριφὶς ἀΐξας, οὐδ' ὀστέον ἵκετο φωτός.
τὸν δ' Ὀδυσεὺς οὔτησε τυχὼν κατὰ δεξιὸν ὦμον,
ἀντικρὺ δὲ διῆλθε φαεινοῦ δουρὸς ἀκωκή·
κὰδ δ' ἔπεσ' ἐν κονίῃσι μακών, ἀπὸ δ' ἔπτατο θυμός.
τὸν μὲν ἄρ' Αὐτολύκου παῖδες φίλοι ἀμφεπένοντο,
ὠτειλὴν δ' Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος ἀντιθέοιο
δῆσαν ἐπισταμένως, ἐπαοιδῇ δ' αἷμα κελαινὸν
ἔσχεθον, αἶψα δ' ἵκοντο φίλου πρὸς δώματα πατρός.
τὸν μὲν ἄρ' Αὐτόλυκός τε καὶ υἱέες Αὐτολύκοιο
εὖ ἰησάμενοι ἠδ' ἀγλαὰ δῶρα πορόντες
καρπαλίμως χαίροντα φίλως χαίροντες ἔπεμπον
εἰς Ἰθάκην. τῷ μέν ῥα πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ
χαῖρον νοστήσαντι καὶ ἐξερέεινον ἕκαστα,
οὐλὴν ὅττι πάθοι· ὁ δ' ἄρα σφίσιν εὖ κατέλεξεν,
ὥς μιν θηρεύοντ' ἔλασεν σῦς λευκῷ ὀδόντι
Παρνησόνδ' ἐλθόντα σὺν υἱάσιν Αὐτολύκοιο.

τὴν γρηῢς χείρεσσι καταπρηνέσσι λαβοῦσα
γνῶ ῥ' ἐπιμασσαμένη, πόδα δὲ προέηκε φέρεσθαι·
ἐν δὲ λέβητι πέσε κνήμη, κανάχησε δὲ χαλκός,
ἂψ δ' ἑτέρωσ' ἐκλίθη· τὸ δ' ἐπὶ χθονὸς ἐξέχυθ' ὕδωρ.
τὴν δ' ἅμα χάρμα καὶ ἄλγος ἕλε φρένα, τὼ δέ οἱ ὄσσε
δακρυόφιν πλῆσθεν, θαλερὴ δέ οἱ ἔσχετο φωνή.
ἁψαμένη δὲ γενείου Ὀδυσσῆα προσέειπεν·

«ἦ μάλ' Ὀδυσσεύς ἐσσι, φίλον τέκος· οὐδέ σ' ἐγώ γε
πρὶν ἔγνων, πρὶν πάντα ἄνακτ' ἐμὸν ἀμφαφάασθαι.»

ἦ, καὶ Πηνελόπειαν ἐσέδρακεν ὀφθαλμοῖσι,
πεφραδέειν ἐθέλουσα φίλον πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα.
ἡ δ' οὔτ' ἀθρῆσαι δύνατ' ἀντίη οὔτε νοῆσαι·
τῇ γὰρ Ἀθηναίη νόον ἔτραπεν. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
χείρ' ἐπιμασσάμενος φάρυγος λάβε δεξιτερῆφι,
τῇ δ' ἑτέρῃ ἕθεν ἄσσον ἐρύσσατο φώνησέν τε·

«μαῖα, τίη μ' ἐθέλεις ὀλέσαι; σὺ δέ μ' ἔτρεφες αὐτὴ
τῷ σῷ ἐπὶ μαζῷ· νῦν δ' ἄλγεα πολλὰ μογήσας
ἤλυθον εἰκοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ἀλλ' ἐπεὶ ἐφράσθης καί τοι θεὸς ἔμβαλε θυμῷ,
σίγα, μή τίς τ' ἄλλος ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πύθηται.
ὧδε γὰρ ἐξερέω, καὶ μὴν τετελεσμένον ἔσται·
εἴ χ' ὑπ' ἐμοί γε θεὸς δαμάσῃ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,
οὐδὲ τροφοῦ οὔσης σεῦ ἀφέξομαι, ὁππότ' ἂν ἄλλας
δμῳὰς ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖς κτείνωμι γυναῖκας.»

τὸν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Εὐρύκλεια·
«τέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων.
οἶσθα μέν, οἷον ἐμὸν μένος ἔμπεδον οὐδ' ἐπιεικτόν·
ἕξω δ' ὡς ὅτε τις στερεὴ λίθος ἠὲ σίδηρος.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δ' ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·
εἴ χ' ὑπὸ σοί γε θεὸς δαμάσῃ μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,
δὴ τότε τοι καταλέξω ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γυναῖκας,
αἵ τέ σ' ἀτιμάζουσι καὶ αἳ νηλείτιδές εἰσι.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«μαῖα, τίη δὲ σὺ τὰς μυθήσεαι; οὐδέ τί σε χρή·
εὖ νυ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐγὼ φράσομαι καὶ εἴσομ' ἑκάστην.
ἀλλ' ἔχε σιγῇ μῦθον, ἐπίτρεψον δὲ θεοῖσιν.»

ὣς ἄρ' ἔφη, γρηῢς δὲ διὲκ μεγάροιο βεβήκει
οἰσομένη ποδάνιπτρα· τὰ γὰρ πρότερ' ἔκχυτο πάντα.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ νίψεν τε καὶ ἤλειψεν λίπ' ἐλαίῳ,
αὖτις ἄρ' ἀσσοτέρω πυρὸς ἕλκετο δίφρον Ὀδυσσεὺς
θερσόμενος, οὐλὴν δὲ κατὰ ῥακέεσσι κάλυψε.

τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
«ξεῖνε, τὸ μέν σ' ἔτι τυτθὸν ἐγὼν εἰρήσομαι αὐτή·
καὶ γὰρ δὴ κοίτοιο τάχ' ἔσσεται ἡδέος ὥρη,
ὅν τινά γ' ὕπνος ἕλῃ γλυκερὸς καὶ κηδόμενόν περ.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ καὶ πένθος ἀμέτρητον πόρε δαίμων·
ἤματα μὲν γὰρ τέρπομ' ὀδυρομένη γοόωσα,
ἔς τ' ἐμὰ ἔργ' ὁρόωσα καὶ ἀμφιπόλων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ·
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν νὺξ ἔλθῃ, ἕλῃσί τε κοῖτος ἅπαντας,
κεῖμαι ἐνὶ λέκτρῳ, πυκιναὶ δέ μοι ἀμφ' ἁδινὸν κῆρ
ὀξεῖαι μελεδῶναι ὀδυρομένην ἐρέθουσιν.
ὡς δ' ὅτε Πανδαρέου κούρη, χλωρηῒς ἀηδών,
καλὸν ἀείδῃσιν ἔαρος νέον ἱσταμένοιο,
δενδρέων ἐν πετάλοισι καθεζομένη πυκινοῖσιν,
ἥ τε θαμὰ τρωπῶσα χέει πολυδευκέα φωνήν,
παῖδ' ὀλοφυρομένη Ἴτυλον φίλον, ὅν ποτε χαλκῷ
κτεῖνε δι' ἀφραδίας, κοῦρον Ζήθοιο ἄνακτος·
ὣς καὶ ἐμοὶ δίχα θυμὸς ὀρώρεται ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,
ἠὲ μένω παρὰ παιδὶ καὶ ἔμπεδα πάντα φυλάσσω,
κτῆσιν ἐμήν, δμῳάς τε καὶ ὑψερεφὲς μέγα δῶμα,
εὐνήν τ' αἰδομένη πόσιος δήμοιό τε φῆμιν,
ἦ ἤδη ἅμ' ἕπωμαι, Ἀχαιῶν ὅς τις ἄριστος
μνᾶται ἐνὶ μεγάροισι, πορὼν ἀπερείσια ἕδνα.
παῖς δ' ἐμὸς εἷος ἔην ἔτι νήπιος ἠδὲ χαλίφρων,
γήμασθ' οὔ μ' εἴα πόσιος κατὰ δῶμα λιποῦσαν·
νῦν δ' ὅτε δὴ μέγας ἐστὶ καὶ ἥβης μέτρον ἱκάνει,
καὶ δή μ' ἀρᾶται πάλιν ἐλθέμεν ἐκ μεγάροιο,
κτήσιος ἀσχαλόων, τήν οἱ κατέδουσιν Ἀχαιοί.
ἀλλ' ἄγε μοι τὸν ὄνειρον ὑπόκριναι καὶ ἄκουσον.
χῆνές μοι κατὰ οἶκον ἐείκοσι πυρὸν ἔδουσιν
ἐξ ὕδατος, καί τέ σφιν ἰαίνομαι εἰσορόωσα·
ἐλθὼν δ' ἐξ ὄρεος μέγας αἰετὸς ἀγκυλοχήλης
πᾶσι κατ' αὐχένας ἦξε καὶ ἔκτανεν· οἱ δ' ἐκέχυντο
ἁθρόοι ἐν μεγάροισ', ὁ δ' ἐς αἰθέρα δῖαν ἀέρθη.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ κλαῖον καὶ ἐκώκυον ἔν περ ὀνείρῳ,
ἀμφὶ δέ μ' ἠγερέθοντο ἐϋπλοκαμῖδες Ἀχαιαί,
οἴκτρ' ὀλοφυρομένην, ὅ μοι αἰετὸς ἔκτανε χῆνας.
ἂψ δ' ἐλθὼν κατ' ἄρ' ἕζετ' ἐπὶ προὔχοντι μελάθρῳ,
φωνῇ δὲ βροτέῃ κατερήτυε φώνησέν τε·
«θάρσει, Ἰκαρίου κούρη τηλεκλειτοῖο·
οὐκ ὄναρ, ἀλλ' ὕπαρ ἐσθλόν, ὅ τοι τετελεσμένον ἔσται.
χῆνες μὲν μνηστῆρες, ἐγὼ δέ τοι αἰετὸς ὄρνις
ἦα πάρος, νῦν αὖτε τεὸς πόσις εἰλήλουθα,
ὃς πᾶσι μνηστῆρσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφήσω.»
ὣς ἔφατ', αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ μελιηδὴς ὕπνος ἀνῆκε·
παπτήνασα δὲ χῆνας ἐνὶ μεγάροισ' ἐνόησα
πυρὸν ἐρεπτομένους παρὰ πύελον, ἧχι πάρος περ.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὦ γύναι, οὔ πως ἔστιν ὑποκρίνασθαι ὄνειρον
ἄλλῃ ἀποκλίναντ', ἐπεὶ ἦ ῥά τοι αὐτὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς
πέφραδ', ὅπως τελέει· μνηστῆρσι δὲ φαίνετ' ὄλεθρος
πᾶσι μάλ', οὐδέ κέ τις θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξει.»

τὸν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
«ξεῖν', ἦ τοι μὲν ὄνειροι ἀμήχανοι ἀκριτόμυθοι
γίνοντ', οὐδέ τι πάντα τελείεται ἀνθρώποισι.
δοιαὶ γάρ τε πύλαι ἀμενηνῶν εἰσὶν ὀνείρων·
αἱ μὲν γὰρ κεράεσσι τετεύχαται, αἱ δ' ἐλέφαντι.
τῶν οἳ μέν κ' ἔλθωσι διὰ πριστοῦ ἐλέφαντος,
οἵ ῥ' ἐλεφαίρονται, ἔπε' ἀκράαντα φέροντες·
οἳ δὲ διὰ ξεστῶν κεράων ἔλθωσι θύραζε,
οἵ ῥ' ἔτυμα κραίνουσι, βροτῶν ὅτε κέν τις ἴδηται.
ἀλλ' ἐμοὶ οὐκ ἐντεῦθεν ὀΐομαι αἰνὸν ὄνειρον
ἐλθέμεν· ἦ κ' ἀσπαστὸν ἐμοὶ καὶ παιδὶ γένοιτο.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δ' ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν·
ἥδε δὴ ἠὼς εἶσι δυσώνυμος, ἥ μ' Ὀδυσῆος
οἴκου ἀποσχήσει· νῦν γὰρ καταθήσω ἄεθλον,
τοὺς πελέκεας, τοὺς κεῖνος ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἑοῖσιν
ἵστασχ' ἑξείης, δρυόχους ὥς, δώδεκα πάντας·
στὰς δ' ὅ γε πολλὸν ἄνευθε διαῤῥίπτασκεν ὀϊστόν.
νῦν δὲ μνηστήρεσσιν ἄεθλον τοῦτον ἐφήσω·
ὃς δέ κε ῥηΐτατ' ἐντανύσῃ βιὸν ἐν παλάμῃσι
καὶ διοϊστεύσῃ πελέκεων δυοκαίδεκα πάντων,
τῷ κεν ἅμ' ἑσποίμην, νοσφισσαμένη τόδε δῶμα
κουρίδιον, μάλα καλόν, ἐνίπλειον βιότοιο,
τοῦ ποτε μεμνήσεσθαι ὀΐομαι ἔν περ ὀνείρῳ.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὦ γύναι αἰδοίη Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
μηκέτι νῦν ἀνάβαλλε δόμοισ' ἔνι τοῦτον ἄεθλον·
πρὶν γάρ τοι πολύμητις ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδ' Ὀδυσσεύς,
πρὶν τούτους τόδε τόξον ἐΰξοον ἀμφαφόωντας
νευρήν τ' ἐντανύσαι διοϊστεῦσαί τε σιδήρου.»

τὸν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
«εἴ κ' ἐθέλοις μοι, ξεῖνε, παρήμενος ἐν μεγάροισι
τέρπειν, οὔ κέ μοι ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι χυθείη.
ἀλλ' οὐ γάρ πως ἔστιν ἀΰπνους ἔμμεναι αἰὲν
ἀνθρώπους· ἐπὶ γάρ τοι ἑκάστῳ μοῖραν ἔθηκαν
ἀθάνατοι θνητοῖσιν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.
ἀλλ' ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼν ὑπερώϊον εἰσαναβᾶσα
λέξομαι εἰς εὐνήν, ἥ μοι στονόεσσα τέτυκται,
αἰεὶ δάκρυσ' ἐμοῖσι πεφυρμένη, ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ᾤχετ' ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν.
ἔνθα κε λεξαίμην· σὺ δὲ λέξεο τῷδ' ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,
ἢ χαμάδις στορέσας, ἤ τοι κατὰ δέμνια θέντων.»

ὣς εἰποῦσ' ἀνέβαιν' ὑπερώϊα σιγαλόεντα,
οὐκ οἴη, ἅμα τῇ γε καὶ ἀμφίπολοι κίον ἄλλαι.
ἐς δ' ὑπερῷ' ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶ
κλαῖεν ἔπειτ' Ὀδυσῆα φίλον πόσιν, ὄφρα οἱ ὕπνον
ἡδὺν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι βάλε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.


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