ὈΔΎΣΣΕΙΑ 4

Οἱ δ' ἷξον κοίλην Λακεδαίμονα κητώεσσαν,
πρὸς δ' ἄρα δώματ' ἔλων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
τὸν δ' εὗρον δαινύντα γάμον πολλοῖσιν ἔτῃσιν
υἱέος ἠδὲ θυγατρὸς ἀμύμονος ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
τὴν μὲν Ἀχιλλῆος ῥηξήνορος υἱέϊ πέμπεν·
ἐν Τροίῃ γὰρ πρῶτον ὑπέσχετο καὶ κατένευσε
δωσέμεναι, τοῖσιν δὲ θεοὶ γάμον ἐξετέλειον·
τὴν ἄρ' ὅ γ' ἔνθ' ἵπποισι καὶ ἅρμασι πέμπε νέεσθαι
Μυρμιδόνων προτὶ ἄστυ περικλυτόν, οἷσιν ἄνασσεν.
υἱέϊ δὲ Σπάρτηθεν Ἀλέκτορος ἤγετο κούρην,
ὅς οἱ τηλύγετος γένετο κρατερὸς Μεγαπένθης
ἐκ δούλης· Ἑλένῃ δὲ θεοὶ γόνον οὐκέτ' ἔφαινον,
ἐπεὶ δὴ τὸ πρῶτον ἐγείνατο παῖδ' ἐρατεινήν,
Ἑρμιόνην, ἣ εἶδος ἔχε χρυσῆς Ἀφροδίτης.

ὣς οἱ μὲν δαίνυντο καθ' ὑψερεφὲς μέγα δῶμα
γείτονες ἠδὲ ἔται Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο,
τερπόμενοι· μετὰ δέ σφιν ἐμέλπετο θεῖος ἀοιδὸς
φορμίζων· δοιὼ δὲ κυβιστητῆρε κατ' αὐτοὺς
μολπῆς ἐξάρχοντες ἐδίνευον κατὰ μέσσους.
τὼ δ' αὖτ' ἐν προθύροισι δόμων αὐτώ τε καὶ ἵππω,
Τηλέμαχός θ' ἥρως καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱός,
στῆσαν· ὁ δὲ προμολὼν ἴδετο κρείων Ἐτεωνεύς,
ὀτρηρὸς θεράπων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο,
βῆ δ' ἴμεν ἀγγελέων διὰ δώματα ποιμένι λαῶν,
ἀγχοῦ δ' ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

«ξείνω δή τινε τώδε, διοτρεφὲς ὦ Μενέλαε,
ἄνδρε δύω, γενεῇ δὲ Διὸς μεγάλοιο ἔϊκτον.
ἀλλ' εἴπ', ἤ σφωϊν καταλύσομεν ὠκέας ἵππους,
ἦ ἄλλον πέμπωμεν ἱκανέμεν, ὅς κε φιλήσῃ.»

τὸν δὲ μέγ' ὀχθήσας προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
«οὐ μὲν νήπιος ἦσθα, Βοηθοΐδη Ἐτεωνεῦ,
τὸ πρίν· ἀτὰρ μὲν νῦν γε πάϊς ὣς νήπια βάζεις.
ἦ μὲν δὴ νῶϊ ξεινήϊα πολλὰ φαγόντες
ἄλλων ἀνθρώπων δεῦρ' ἱκόμεθ', αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς
ἐξοπίσω περ παύσῃ ὀϊζύος. ἀλλὰ λύ' ἵππους
ξείνων, ἐς δ' αὐτοὺς προτέρω ἄγε θοινηθῆναι.»

ὣς φάθ', ὁ δὲ μεγάροιο διέσσυτο, κέκλετο δ' ἄλλους
ὀτρηροὺς θεράποντας ἅμα σπέσθαι ἑοῖ αὐτῷ.
οἱ δ' ἵππους μὲν λῦσαν ὑπὸ ζυγοῦ ἱδρώοντας·
καὶ τοὺς μὲν κατέδησαν ἐφ' ἱππείῃσι κάπῃσι,

πὰρ δ' ἔβαλον ζειάς, ἀνὰ δὲ κρῖ λευκὸν ἔμειξαν,
ἅρματα δ' ἔκλιναν πρὸς ἐνώπια παμφανόωντα,
αὐτοὺς δ' εἰσῆγον θεῖον δόμον. οἱ δὲ ἰδόντες
θαύμαζον κατὰ δῶμα διοτρεφέος βασιλῆος·
ὥς τε γὰρ ἠελίου αἴγλη πέλεν ἠὲ σελήνης
δῶμα καθ' ὑψερεφὲς Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τάρπησαν ὁρώμενοι ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
ἔς ῥ' ἀσαμίνθους βάντες ἐϋξέστας λούσαντο.
τοὺς δ' ἐπεὶ οὖν δμῳαὶ λοῦσαν καὶ χρῖσαν ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δ' ἄρα χλαίνας οὔλας βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,
ἔς ῥα θρόνους ἕζοντο παρ' Ἀτρεΐδην Μενέλαον.
χέρνιβα δ' ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα
καλῇ χρυσείῃ, ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,
νίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.
σῖτον δ' αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,
εἴδατα πόλλ' ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων.
[δαιτρὸς δὲ κρειῶν πίνακας παρέθηκεν ἀείρας
παντοίων, παρὰ δέ σφι τίθει χρύσεια κύπελλα.]
τὼ καὶ δεικνύμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·

«σίτου θ' ἅπτεσθον καὶ χαίρετον· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
δείπνου πασσαμένω εἰρησόμεθ' οἵ τινές ἐστον
ἀνδρῶν· οὐ γὰρ σφῶν γε γένος ἀπόλωλε τοκήων,
ἀλλ' ἀνδρῶν γένος ἐστὲ διοτρεφέων βασιλήων
σκηπτούχων, ἐπεὶ οὔ κε κακοὶ τοιούσδε τέκοιεν.»

ὣς φάτο, καί σφιν νῶτα βοὸς παρὰ πίονα θῆκεν
ὄπτ' ἐν χερσὶν ἑλών, τά ῥά οἱ γέρα πάρθεσαν αὐτῷ.
οἱ δ' ἐπ' ὀνείαθ' ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
δὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεε Νέστορος υἱόν,
ἄγχι σχὼν κεφαλήν, ἵνα μὴ πευθοίαθ' οἱ ἄλλοι·

«φράζεο, Νεστορίδη, τῷ ἐμῷ κεχαρισμένε θυμῷ,
χαλκοῦ τε στεροπὴν κατὰ δώματα ἠχήεντα
χρυσοῦ τ' ἠλέκτρου τε καὶ ἀργύρου ἠδ' ἐλέφαντος.
Ζηνός που τοιήδε γ' Ὀλυμπίου ἔνδοθεν αὐλή,
ὅσσα τάδ' ἄσπετα πολλά· σέβας μ' ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.»

τοῦ δ' ἀγορεύοντος ξύνετο ξανθὸς Μενέλαος,
καί σφεας φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

«τέκνα φίλ', ἦ τοι Ζηνὶ βροτῶν οὐκ ἄν τις ἐρίζοι·
ἀθάνατοι γὰρ τοῦ γε δόμοι καὶ κτήματ' ἔασιν·
ἀνδρῶν δ' ἤ κέν τίς μοι ἐρίσσεται, ἠὲ καὶ οὐκί,
κτήμασιν. ἦ γὰρ πολλὰ παθὼν καὶ πόλλ' ἐπαληθεὶς
ἠγαγόμην ἐν νηυσὶ καὶ ὀγδοάτῳ ἔτει ἦλθον,
Κύπρον Φοινίκην τε καὶ Αἰγυπτίους ἐπαληθείς,
Αἰθίοπάς θ' ἱκόμην καὶ Σιδονίους καὶ Ἐρεμβοὺς
καὶ Λιβύην, ἵνα τ' ἄρνες ἄφαρ κεραοὶ τελέθουσι.
τρὶς γὰρ τίκτει μῆλα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτόν·
ἔνθα μὲν οὔτε ἄναξ ἐπιδευὴς οὔτε τι ποιμὴν
τυροῦ καὶ κρειῶν οὐδὲ γλυκεροῖο γάλακτος,
ἀλλ' αἰεὶ παρέχουσιν ἐπηετανὸν γάλα θῆσθαι.
εἷος ἐγὼ περὶ κεῖνα πολὺν βίοτον ξυναγείρων
ἠλώμην, τεῖός μοι ἀδελφεὸν ἄλλος ἔπεφνε
λάθρῃ, ἀνωϊστί, δόλῳ οὐλομένης ἀλόχοιο.
ὣς οὔ τοι χαίρων τοῖσδε κτεάτεσσιν ἀνάσσω· -
καὶ πατέρων τάδε μέλλετ' ἀκουέμεν, οἵ τινες ὕμιν
εἰσίν· - ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὰ πάθον καὶ ἀπώλεσα οἶκον
εὖ μάλα ναιετάοντα, κεχανδότα πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλά.
ὧν ὄφελον τριτάτην περ ἔχων ἐν δώμασι μοῖραν
ναίειν, οἱ δ' ἄνδρες σόοι ἔμμεναι, οἳ τότ' ὄλοντο
Τροίῃ ἐν εὐρείῃ, ἑκὰς Ἄργεος ἱπποβότοιο.
ἀλλ' ἔμπης, πάντας μὲν ὀδυρόμενος καὶ ἀχεύων,
πολλάκις ἐν μεγάροισι καθήμενος ἡμετέροισιν
ἄλλοτε μέν τε γόῳ φρένα τέρπομαι, ἄλλοτε δ' αὖτε
παύομαι· αἰψηρὸς δὲ κόρος κρυεροῖο γόοιο· -
τῶν πάντων οὐ τόσσον ὀδύρομαι, ἀχνύμενός περ,
ὡς ἑνός, ὅς τέ μοι ὕπνον ἀπεχθαίρει καὶ ἐδωδὴν,
μνωομένῳ, ἐπεὶ οὔ τις Ἀχαιῶν τόσσ' ἐμόγησεν,
ὅσσ' Ὀδυσεὺς ἐμόγησε καὶ ἤρατο. τῷ δ' ἄρ' ἔμελλεν
αὐτῷ κήδε' ἔσεσθαι, ἐμοὶ δ' ἄχος αἰὲν ἄλαστον
κείνου, ὅπως δὴ δηρὸν ἀποίχεται, οὐδέ τι ἴδμεν,
ζώει ὅ γ' ἦ τέθνηκεν. ὀδύρονται νύ που αὐτὸν
Λαέρτης θ' ὁ γέρων καὶ ἐχέφρων Πηνελόπεια
Τηλέμαχός θ', ὃν ἔλειπε νέον γεγαῶτ' ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.»

ὣς φάτο, τῷ δ' ἄρα πατρὸς ὑφ' ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο·
δάκρυ δ' ἀπὸ βλεφάρων χαμάδις βάλε πατρὸς ἀκούσας,
χλαῖναν πορφυρέην ἄντ' ὀφθαλμοῖιν ἀνασχὼν
ἀμφοτέρῃσιν χερσί. νόησε δέ μιν Μενέλαος,
μερμήριξε δ' ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
ἠέ μιν αὐτὸν πατρὸς ἐάσειε μνησθῆναι,
ἦ πρῶτ' ἐξερέοιτο ἕκαστά τε πειρήσαιτο.

εἷος ὁ ταῦθ' ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
ἐκ δ' Ἑλένη θαλάμοιο θυώδεος ὑψορόφοιο
ἤλυθεν Ἀρτέμιδι χρυσηλακάτῳ ἐϊκυῖα.
τῇ δ' ἄρ' ἅμ' Ἀδρήστη κλισίην εὔτυκτον ἔθηκεν,
Ἀλκίππη δὲ τάπητα φέρεν μαλακοῦ ἐρίοιο,
Φυλὼ δ' ἀργύρεον τάλαρον φέρε, τόν οἱ ἔδωκεν
Ἀλκάνδρη, Πολύβοιο δάμαρ, ὃς ἔναι' ἐνὶ Θήβῃς
Αἰγυπτίῃσ', ὅθι πλεῖστα δόμοισ' ἐν κτήματα κεῖται·
ὃς Μενελάῳ δῶκε δύ' ἀργυρέας ἀσαμίνθους,
δοιοὺς δὲ τρίποδας, δέκα δὲ χρυσοῖο τάλαντα.
χωρὶς δ' αὖθ' Ἑλένῃ ἄλοχος πόρε κάλλιμα δῶρα·
χρυσῆν τ' ἠλακάτην τάλαρόν θ' ὑπόκυκλον ὄπασσεν
ἀργύρεον, χρυσῷ δ' ἐπὶ χείλεα κεκράαντο.
τόν ῥά οἱ ἀμφίπολος Φυλὼ παρέθηκε φέρουσα
νήματος ἀσκητοῖο βεβυσμένον· αὐτὰρ ἐπ' αὐτῷ
ἠλακάτη τετάνυστο ἰοδνεφὲς εἶρος ἔχουσα.
ἕζετο δ' ἐν κλισμῷ, ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν.
αὐτίκα δ' ἥ γ' ἐπέεσσι πόσιν ἐρέεινεν ἕκαστα·

«ἴδμεν δή, Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, οἵ τινες οἵδε
ἀνδρῶν εὐχετόωνται ἱκανέμεν ἡμέτερον δῶ;
ψεύσομαι ἦ ἔτυμον ἐρέω; κέλεται δέ με θυμός.
οὐ γάρ πώ τινά φημι ἐοικότα ὧδε ἰδέσθαι
οὔτ' ἄνδρ' οὔτε γυναῖκα, σέβας μ' ἔχει εἰσορόωσαν,
ὡς ὅδ' Ὀδυσσῆος μεγαλήτορος υἷι ἔοικε,
Τηλεμάχῳ, τὸν ἔλειπε νέον γεγαῶτ' ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
κεῖνος ἀνήρ, ὅτ' ἐμεῖο κυνώπιδος εἵνεκ' Ἀχαιοὶ
ἤλθεθ' ὑπὸ Τροίην, πόλεμον θρασὺν ὁρμαίνοντες.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
«οὕτω νῦν καὶ ἐγὼ νοέω, γύναι, ὡς σὺ ἐΐσκεις·
κείνου γὰρ τοιοίδε πόδες τοιαίδε τε χεῖρες
ὀφθαλμῶν τε βολαὶ κεφαλή τ' ἐφύπερθέ τε χαῖται.
καὶ νῦν ἦ τοι ἐγὼ μεμνημένος ἀμφ' Ὀδυσῆϊ
μυθεόμην, ὅσα κεῖνος ὀϊζύσας ἐμόγησεν
ἀμφ' ἐμοί, αὐτὰρ ὁ πυκνὸν ὑπ' ὀφρύσι δάκρυον εἶβε,
χλαῖναν πορφυρέην ἄντ' ὀφθαλμοῖιν ἀνασχών.»

τὸν δ' αὖ Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
«Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
κείνου μέν τοι ὅδ' υἱὸς ἐτήτυμον, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·
ἀλλὰ σαόφρων ἐστί, νεμεσσᾶται δ' ἐνὶ θυμῷ
ὧδ' ἐλθὼν τὸ πρῶτον ἐπεσβολίας ἀναφαίνειν
ἄντα σέθεν, τοῦ νῶϊ θεοῦ ὣς τερπόμεθ' αὐδῇ.
αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ προέηκε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ
τῷ ἅμα πομπὸν ἕπεσθαι· ἐέλδετο γάρ σε ἰδέσθαι,
ὄφρα οἱ ἤ τι ἔπος ὑποθήεαι ἠέ τι ἔργον.
πολλὰ γὰρ ἄλγε' ἔχει πατρὸς πάϊς οἰχομένοιο
ἐν μεγάροισ', ᾧ μὴ ἄλλοι ἀοσσητῆρες ἔωσιν,
ὡς νῦν Τηλεμάχῳ ὁ μὲν οἴχεται, οὐδέ οἱ ἄλλοι
εἴσ', οἵ κεν κατὰ δῆμον ἀλάλκοιεν κακότητα.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
«ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ φίλου ἀνέρος υἱὸς ἐμὸν δῶ
ἵκεθ', ὃς εἵνεκ' ἐμεῖο πολέας ἐμόγησεν ἀέθλους·
καί μιν ἔφην ἐλθόντα φιλησέμεν ἔξοχα πάντων
Ἀργείων, εἰ νῶϊν ὑπεὶρ ἅλα νόστον ἔδωκε
νηυσὶ θοῇσι γενέσθαι Ὀλύμπιος εὐρύοπα Ζεύς.
καί κέ οἱ Ἄργεϊ νάσσα πόλιν καὶ δώματ' ἔτευξα,
ἐξ Ἰθάκης ἀγαγὼν σὺν κτήμασι καὶ τέκεϊ ᾧ
καὶ πᾶσιν λαοῖσι, μίαν πόλιν ἐξαλαπάξας,
αἳ περιναιετάουσιν, ἀνάσσονται δ' ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ.
καί κε θάμ' ἐνθάδ' ἐόντες ἐμισγόμεθ'· οὐδέ κεν ἥμεας
ἄλλο διέκρινεν φιλέοντέ τε τερπομένω τε,
πρίν γ' ὅτε δὴ θανάτοιο μέλαν νέφος ἀμφεκάλυψεν.
ἀλλὰ τὰ μέν που μέλλεν ἀγάσσασθαι θεὸς αὐτός,
ὃς κεῖνον δύστηνον ἀνόστιμον οἶον ἔθηκεν.»

ὣς φάτο, τοῖσι δὲ πᾶσιν ὑφ' ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο.
κλαῖε μὲν Ἀργείη Ἑλένη, Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα,
κλαῖε δὲ Τηλέμαχός τε καὶ Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος,
οὐδ' ἄρα Νέστορος υἱὸς ἀδακρύτω ἔχεν ὄσσε·
μνήσατο γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονος Ἀντιλόχοιο,
τόν ῥ' Ἠοῦς ἔκτεινε φαεινῆς ἀγλαὸς υἱός.
τοῦ ὅ γ' ἐπιμνησθεὶς ἔπεα πτερόεντ' ἀγόρευεν·

«Ἀτρεΐδη, περὶ μέν σε βροτῶν πεπνυμένον εἶναι
Νέστωρ φάσχ' ὁ γέρων, ὅτ' ἐπιμνησαίμεθα σεῖο
οἷσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι καὶ ἀλλήλους ἐρέοιμεν·
καὶ νῦν, εἴ τί που ἔστι, πίθοιό μοι· οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γε
τέρπομ' ὀδυρόμενος μεταδόρπιος, ἀλλὰ καὶ Ἠὼς
ἔσσεται ἠριγένεια· νεμεσσῶμαί γε μὲν οὐδὲν
κλαίειν, ὅς κε θάνῃσι βροτῶν καὶ πότμον ἐπίσπῃ.
τοῦτό νυ καὶ γέρας οἶον ὀϊζυροῖσι βροτοῖσι,
κείρασθαί τε κόμην βαλέειν τ' ἀπὸ δάκρυ παρειῶν.
καὶ γὰρ ἐμὸς τέθνηκεν ἀδελφεός, οὔ τι κάκιστος
Ἀργείων· μέλλεις δὲ σὺ ἴδμεναι· - οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γε
ἤντησ' οὐδὲ ἴδον· - περὶ δ' ἄλλων φασὶ γενέσθαι
Ἀντίλοχον, περὶ μὲν θείειν ταχὺν ἠδὲ μαχητήν.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
«ὦ φίλ', ἐπεὶ τόσα εἶπες, ὅσ' ἂν πεπνυμένος ἀνὴρ
εἴποι καὶ ῥέξειε, καὶ ὃς προγενέστερος εἴη·
τοίου γὰρ καὶ πατρός, ὃ καὶ πεπνυμένα βάζεις.
ῥεῖα δ' ἀρίγνωτος γόνος ἀνέρος, ᾧ τε Κρονίων
ὄλβον ἐπικλώσῃ γαμέοντί τε γεινομένῳ τε,
ὡς νῦν Νέστορι δῶκε διαμπερὲς ἤματα πάντα
αὐτὸν μὲν λιπαρῶς γηρασκέμεν ἐν μεγάροισιν,
υἱέας αὖ πινυτούς τε καὶ ἔγχεσιν εἶναι ἀρίστους.
ἡμεῖς δὲ κλαυθμὸν μὲν ἐάσομεν, ὃς πρὶν ἐτύχθη,
δόρπου δ' ἐξαῦτις μνησώμεθα, χερσὶ δ' ἐφ' ὕδωρ
χευάντων· μῦθοι δὲ καὶ ἠῶθέν περ ἔσονται
Τηλεμάχῳ καὶ ἐμοὶ διαειπέμεν ἀλλήλοισιν.»

ὣς ἔφατ', Ἀσφαλίων δ' ἄρ' ὕδωρ ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἔχευεν,
ὀτρηρὸς θεράπων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
οἱ δ' ἐπ' ὀνείαθ' ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.

ἔνθ' αὖτ' ἄλλ' ἐνόησ' Ἑλένη Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα·
αὐτίκ' ἄρ' εἰς οἶνον βάλε φάρμακον, ἔνθεν ἔπινον,
νηπενθές τ' ἄχολόν τε, κακῶν ἐπίληθον ἁπάντων.
ὃς τὸ καταβρόξειεν, ἐπὴν κρητῆρι μιγείη,
οὔ κεν ἐφημέριός γε βάλοι κατὰ δάκρυ παρειῶν,
οὐδ' εἴ οἱ κατατεθναίη μήτηρ τε πατήρ τε,
οὐδ' εἴ οἱ προπάροιθεν ἀδελφεὸν ἢ φίλον υἱὸν
χαλκῷ δηϊόῳεν, ὁ δ' ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῷτο.
τοῖα Διὸς θυγάτηρ ἔχε φάρμακα μητιόεντα,
ἐσθλά, τά οἱ Πολύδαμνα πόρεν, Θῶνος παράκοιτις,
Αἰγυπτίη, τῇ πλεῖστα φέρει ζείδωρος ἄρουρα
φάρμακα, πολλὰ μὲν ἐσθλὰ μεμιγμένα, πολλὰ δὲ λυγρά,
ἰητρὸς δὲ ἕκαστος ἐπιστάμενος περὶ πάντων
ἀνθρώπων· ἦ γὰρ Παιήονός εἰσι γενέθλης.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥ' ἐνέηκε κέλευσέ τε οἰνοχοῆσαι,
ἐξαῦτις μύθοισιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπεν·

«Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφὲς ἠδὲ καὶ οἵδε
ἀνδρῶν ἐσθλῶν παῖδες, ἀτὰρ θεὸς ἄλλοτε ἄλλῳ
Ζεὺς ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε διδοῖ· δύναται γὰρ ἅπαντα· -
ἦ τοι νῦν δαίνυσθε καθήμενοι ἐν μεγάροισι
καὶ μύθοις τέρπεσθε· ἐοικότα γὰρ καταλέξω.
πάντα μὲν οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδ' ὀνομήνω,
ὅσσοι Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονός εἰσιν ἄεθλοι·
ἀλλ' οἷον τόδ' ἔρεξε καὶ ἔτλη καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχετε πήματ' Ἀχαιοί.
αὐτόν μιν πληγῇσιν ἀεικελίῃσι δαμάσσας,
σπεῖρα κάκ' ἀμφ' ὤμοισι βαλών, οἰκῆϊ ἐοικώς,
ἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων κατέδυ πόλιν εὐρυάγυιαν.
ἄλλῳ δ' αὐτὸν φωτὶ κατακρύπτων ἤϊσκε
Δέκτῃ, ὃς οὐδὲν τοῖος ἔην ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν·
τῷ ἴκελος κατέδυ Τρώων πόλιν, οἱ δ' ἀβάκησαν
πάντες· ἐγὼ δέ μιν οἴη ἀνέγνων τοῖον ἐόντα,
καί μιν ἀνειρώτευν· ὁ δὲ κερδοσύνῃ ἀλέεινεν.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δή μιν ἐγὼ λόεον καὶ χρῖον ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσα καὶ ὤμοσα καρτερὸν ὅρκον,
μή με πρὶν Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ Τρώεσσ' ἀναφῆναι,
πρίν γε τὸν ἐς νῆάς τε θοὰς κλισίας τ' ἀφικέσθαι,
καὶ τότε δή μοι πάντα νόον κατέλεξεν Ἀχαιῶν.
πολλοὺς δὲ Τρώων κτείνας ταναήκεϊ χαλκῷ
ἦλθε μετ' Ἀργείους, κατὰ δὲ φρόνιν ἤγαγε πολλήν.
ἔνθ' ἄλλαι Τρῳαὶ λίγ' ἐκώκυον· αὐτὰρ ἐμὸν κῆρ
χαῖρ', ἐπεὶ ἤδη μοι κραδίη τέτραπτο νεέσθαι
ἂψ οἶκόνδ', ἄτην δὲ μετέστενον, ἣν Ἀφροδίτη
δῶχ', ὅτε μ' ἤγαγε κεῖσε φίλης ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης,
παῖδά τ' ἐμὴν νοσφισσαμένην θάλαμόν τε πόσιν τε
οὔ τευ δευόμενον, οὔτ' ἂρ φρένας οὔτε τι εἶδος.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
«ναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε πάντα, γύναι, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.
ἤδη μὲν πολέων ἐδάην βουλήν τε νόον τε
ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, πολλὴν δ' ἐπελήλυθα γαῖαν·
ἀλλ' οὔ πω τοιοῦτον ἐγὼν ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν
οἷον Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος ἔσκε φίλον κῆρ.
οἷον καὶ τόδ' ἔρεξε καὶ ἔτλη καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ
ἵππῳ ἔνι ξεστῷ, ἵν' ἐνήμεθα πάντες ἄριστοι
Ἀργείων, Τρώεσσι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φέροντες.
ἦλθες ἔπειτα σὺ κεῖσε· κελευσέμεναι δέ σ' ἔμελλε
δαίμων, ὃς Τρώεσσιν ἐβούλετο κῦδος ὀρέξαι·
καί τοι Δηΐφοβος θεοείκελος ἕσπετ' ἰούσῃ.
τρὶς δὲ περίστειξας κοῖλον λόχον ἀμφαφόωσα,
ἐκ δ' ὀνομακλήδην Δαναῶν ὀνόμαζες ἀρίστους,
πάντων Ἀργείων φωνὴν ἴσκουσ' ἀλόχοισιν·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καὶ Τυδεΐδης καὶ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἥμενοι ἐν μέσσοισιν ἀκούσαμεν, ὡς ἐβόησας.
νῶϊ μὲν ἀμφοτέρω μενεήναμεν ὁρμηθέντες
ἢ ἐξελθέμεναι ἢ ἔνδοθεν αἶψ' ὑπακοῦσαι·
ἀλλ' Ὀδυσεὺς κατέρυκε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱεμένω περ.
ἔνθ' ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀκὴν ἔσαν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
Ἄντικλος δὲ σέ γ' οἶος ἀμείψασθαι ἐπέεσσιν
ἤθελεν· ἀλλ' Ὀδυσεὺς ἐπὶ μάστακα χερσὶ πίεζε
νωλεμέως κρατερῇσι, σάωσε δὲ πάντας Ἀχαιούς·
τόφρα δ' ἔχ', ὄφρα σε νόσφιν ἀπήγαγε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.»

τὸν δ' αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
«Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
ἄλγιον· οὐ γάρ οἵ τι τό γ' ἤρκεσε λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον,
οὐδ' εἴ οἱ κραδίη γε σιδηρέη ἔνδοθεν ἦεν.
ἀλλ' ἄγετ' εἰς εὐνὴν τράπεθ' ἥμεας, ὄφρα καὶ ἤδη
ὕπνῳ ὕπο γλυκερῷ ταρπώμεθα κοιμηθέντες.»

ὣς ἔφατ', Ἀργείη δ' Ἑλένη δμῳῇσι κέλευσε
δέμνι' ὑπ' αἰθούσῃ θέμεναι καὶ ῥήγεα καλὰ
πορφύρε' ἐμβαλέειν, στορέσαι τ' ἐφύπερθε τάπητας
χλαίνας τ' ἐνθέμεναι οὔλας καθύπερθεν ἕσασθαι.
αἱ δ' ἴσαν ἐκ μεγάροιο δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσαι,
δέμνια δ' ἐστόρεσαν· ἐκ δὲ ξείνους ἄγε κῆρυξ.
οἱ μὲν ἄρ' ἐν προδόμῳ δόμου αὐτόθι κοιμήσαντο,
Τηλέμαχός θ' ἥρως καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱός·
Ἀτρεΐδης δὲ καθεῦδε μυχῷ δόμου ὑψηλοῖο,
πὰρ δ' Ἑλένη τανύπεπλος ἐλέξατο, δῖα γυναικῶν.

ἦμος δ' ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
ὤρνυτ' ἄρ' ἐξ εὐνῆφι βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος
εἵματα ἑσσάμενος, περὶ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτ' ὤμῳ,
ποσσὶ δ' ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
βῆ δ' ἴμεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο θεῷ ἐναλίγκιος ἄντην,
Τηλεμάχῳ δὲ παρῖζεν, ἔπος τ' ἔφατ' ἔκ τ' ὀνόμαζε·

«τίπτε δέ σε χρειὼ δεῦρ' ἤγαγε, Τηλέμαχ' ἥρως,
ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν ἐπ' εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης;
δήμιον ἦ ἴδιον; τόδε μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες.»

τὸν δ' αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
«Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
ἤλυθον εἴ τινά μοι κληηδόνα πατρὸς ἐνίσποις.
ἐσθίεταί μοι οἶκος, ὄλωλε δὲ πίονα ἔργα,
δυσμενέων δ' ἀνδρῶν πλεῖος δόμος, οἵ τέ μοι αἰεὶ
μῆλ' ἁδινὰ σφάζουσι καὶ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς,
μητρὸς ἐμῆς μνηστῆρες ὑπέρβιον ὕβριν ἔχοντες.
τοὔνεκα νῦν τὰ σὰ γούναθ' ἱκάνομαι, αἴ κ' ἐθέλῃσθα
κείνου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον ἐνισπεῖν, εἴ που ὄπωπας
ὀφθαλμοῖσι τεοῖσιν ἢ ἄλλου μῦθον ἄκουσας
πλαζομένου· περὶ γάρ μιν ὀϊζυρὸν τέκε μήτηρ.
μηδέ τί μ' αἰδόμενος μειλίσσεο μηδ' ἐλεαίρων,
ἀλλ' εὖ μοι κατάλεξον, ὅπως ἤντησας ὀπωπῆς.
λίσσομαι, εἴ ποτέ τοί τι πατὴρ ἐμός, ἐσθλὸς Ὀδυσσεύς,
ἢ ἔπος ἠέ τι ἔργον ὑποστὰς ἐξετέλεσσε
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχετε πήματ' Ἀχαιοί·

τῶν νῦν μοι μνῆσαι, καί μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες.»

τὸν δὲ μέγ' ὀχθήσας προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
«ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ κρατερόφρονος ἀνδρὸς ἐν εὐνῇ
ἤθελον εὐνηθῆναι ἀνάλκιδες αὐτοὶ ἐόντες.
ὡς δ' ὁπότ' ἐν ξυλόχῳ ἔλαφος κρατεροῖο λέοντος
νεβροὺς κοιμήσασα νεηγενέας γαλαθηνοὺς
κνημοὺς ἐξερέῃσι καὶ ἄγκεα ποιήεντα
βοσκομένη, ὁ δ' ἔπειτα ἑὴν εἰσήλυθεν εὐνήν,
ἀμφοτέροισι δὲ τοῖσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφῆκεν,
ὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κείνοισιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφήσει.
αἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,
τοῖος ἐὼν οἷός ποτ' ἐϋκτιμένῃ ἐνὶ Λέσβῳ
ἐξ ἔριδος Φιλομηλεΐδῃ ἐπάλαισεν ἀναστάς,
κὰδ δ' ἔβαλε κρατερῶς, κεχάροντο δὲ πάντες Ἀχαιοί,
τοῖος ἐὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμιλήσειεν Ὀδυσσεύς·
πάντες κ' ὠκύμοροί τε γενοίατο πικρόγαμοί τε.
ταῦτα δ', ἅ μ' εἰρωτᾷς καὶ λίσσεαι, οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε
ἄλλα παρὲξ εἴποιμι παρακλιδὸν οὐδ' ἀπατήσω·
ἀλλὰ τὰ μέν μοι ἔειπε γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής,
τῶν οὐδέν τοι ἐγὼ κρύψω ἔπος οὐδ' ἐπικεύσω.

Αἰγύπτῳ μ' ἔτι δεῦρο θεοὶ μεμαῶτα νέεσθαι
ἔσχον, ἐπεὶ οὔ σφιν ἔρεξα τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας·
οἱ δ' αἰεὶ βούλοντο θεοὶ μεμνῆσθαι ἐφετμέων.
νῆσος ἔπειτά τις ἔστι πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ
Αἰγύπτου προπάροιθε, Φάρον δέ ἑ κικλήσκουσι,
τόσσον ἄνευθ', ὅσσον τε πανημερίη γλαφυρὴ νηῦς
ἤνυσεν, ᾗ λιγὺς οὖρος ἐπιπνείῃσιν ὄπισθεν.
ἐν δὲ λιμὴν εὔορμος, ὅθεν τ' ἀπὸ νῆας ἐΐσας
ἐς πόντον βάλλουσιν, ἀφυσσάμενοι μέλαν ὕδωρ.
ἔνθα μ' ἐείκοσιν ἤματ' ἔχον θεοί, οὐδέ ποτ' οὖροι
πνείοντες φαίνονθ' ἁλιαέες, οἵ ῥά τε νηῶν
πομπῆες γίνονται ἐπ' εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.
καί νύ κεν ἤϊα πάντα κατέφθιτο καὶ μένε' ἀνδρῶν,
εἰ μή τίς με θεῶν ὀλοφύρατο καί μ' ἐλέησε,
Πρωτέος ἰφθίμου θυγάτηρ ἁλίοιο γέροντος,
Εἰδοθέη· τῇ γάρ ῥα μάλιστά γε θυμὸν ὄρινα·
ἥ μ' οἴῳ ἔῤῥοντι συνήντετο νόσφιν ἑταίρων·
αἰεὶ γὰρ περὶ νῆσον ἀλώμενοι ἰχθυάασκον
γναμπτοῖσ' ἀγκίστροισιν, ἔτειρε δὲ γαστέρα λιμός.
ἡ δέ μευ ἄγχι στᾶσα ἔπος φάτο φώνησέν τε·
νήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖνε, λίην τόσον ἠδὲ χαλίφρων,
ἦε ἑκὼν μεθιεῖς καὶ τέρπεαι ἄλγεα πάσχων;
ὡς δὴ δήθ' ἐνὶ νήσῳ ἐρύκεαι, οὐδέ τι τέκμωρ
εὑρέμεναι δύνασαι, μινύθει δέ τοι ἦτορ ἑταίρων.
ὣς ἔφατ', αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ἐκ μέν τοι ἐρέω, ἥ τις σύ πέρ ἐσσι θεάων,
ὡς ἐγὼ οὔ τι ἑκὼν κατερύκομαι, ἀλλά νυ μέλλω
ἀθανάτους ἀλιτέσθαι, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.
ἀλλὰ σύ πέρ μοι εἰπέ, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα ἴσασιν,
ὅς τίς μ' ἀθανάτων πεδάᾳ καὶ ἔδησε κελεύθου,
νόστον θ', ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσομαι ἰχθυόεντα.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δ' αὐτίκ' ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλ' ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
πωλεῖταί τις δεῦρο γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής,
ἀθάνατος, Πρωτεὺς Αἰγύπτιος, ὅς τε θαλάσσης
πάσης βένθεα οἶδε, Ποσειδάωνος ὑποδμώς·
τὸν δέ τ' ἐμόν φασιν πατέρ' ἔμμεναι ἠδὲ τεκέσθαι.
τόν γ' εἴ πως σὺ δύναιο λοχησάμενος λελαβέσθαι,
ὅς κέν τοι εἴπῃσιν ὁδὸν καὶ μέτρα κελεύθου
νόστον θ', ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσεαι ἰχθυόεντα.
καὶ δέ κέ τοι εἴπῃσι, διοτρεφές, αἴ κ' ἐθέλῃσθα,
ὅττι τοι ἐν μεγάροισι κακόν τ' ἀγαθόν τε τέτυκται
οἰχομένοιο σέθεν δολιχὴν ὁδὸν ἀργαλέην τε.
ὣς ἔφατ', αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
αὐτὴ νῦν φράζευ σὺ λόχον θείοιο γέροντος,
μή πώς με προϊδὼν ἠὲ προδαεὶς ἀλέηται·
ἀργαλέος γάρ τ' ἐστὶ θεὸς βροτῷ ἀνδρὶ δαμῆναι.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δ' αὐτίκ' ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·
[τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μάλ' ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.]
ἦμος δ' ἠέλιος μέσον οὐρανὸν ἀμφιβεβήκῃ,
τῆμος ἄρ' ἐξ ἁλὸς εἶσι γέρων ἅλιος νημερτὴς
πνοιῇ ὕπο ζεφύροιο, μελαίνῃ φρικὶ καλυφθείς,
ἐκ δ' ἐλθὼν κοιμᾶται ὑπὸ σπέεσι γλαφυροῖσιν·
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν φῶκαι νέποδες καλῆς ἁλοσύδνης
ἁθρόαι εὕδουσιν, πολιῆς ἁλὸς ἐξαναδῦσαι,
πικρὸν ἀποπνείουσαι ἁλὸς πολυβενθέος ὀδμήν.
ἔνθα σ' ἐγὼν ἀγαγοῦσα ἅμ' ἠόϊ φαινομένηφιν
εὐνάσω ἑξείης· σὺ δ' ἐῢ κρίνασθαι ἑταίρους
τρεῖς, οἵ τοι παρὰ νηυσὶν ἐϋσσέλμοισιν ἄριστοι.
πάντα δέ τοι ἐρέω ὀλοφώϊα τοῖο γέροντος.
φώκας μέν τοι πρῶτον ἀριθμήσει καὶ ἔπεισιν·
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν πάσας πεμπάσσεται ἠδὲ ἴδηται,
λέξεται ἐν μέσσῃσι, νομεὺς ὣς πώεσι μήλων.
τὸν μὲν ἐπὴν δὴ πρῶτα κατευνηθέντα ἴδησθε,
καὶ τότ' ἔπειθ' ὕμιν μελέτω κάρτος τε βίη τε,
αὖθι δ' ἔχειν μεμαῶτα, καὶ ἐσσύμενόν περ ἀλύξαι.
πάντα δὲ γινόμενος πειρήσεται, ὅσσ' ἐπὶ γαῖαν
ἑρπετὰ γίνονται καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ θεσπιδαὲς πῦρ·
ὑμεῖς δ' ἀστεμφέως ἐχέμεν μᾶλλόν τε πιέζειν.
ἀλλ' ὅτε κεν δή σ' αὐτὸς ἀνείρηται ἐπέεσσι,
τοῖος ἐών, οἷόν κε κατευνηθέντα ἴδηαι,
καὶ τότε δὴ σχέσθαι τε βίης λῦσαί τε γέροντα,
ἥρως, εἴρεσθαι δέ, θεῶν ὅς τίς σε χαλέπτει,
νόστον θ', ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσεαι ἰχθυόεντα.
ὣς εἰποῦσ' ὑπὸ πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆας, ὅθ' ἕστασαν ἐν ψαμάθοισιν,
ἤϊα· πολλὰ δέ μοι κραδίη πόρφυρε κιόντι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥ' ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
δόρπον θ' ὁπλισάμεσθ' ἐπί τ' ἤλυθεν ἀμβροσίη νύξ,
δὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
ἦμος δ' ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
καὶ τότε δὴ παρὰ θῖνα θαλάσσης εὐρυπόροιο
ἤϊα, πολλὰ θεοὺς γουνούμενος· αὐτὰρ ἑταίρους
τρεῖς ἄγον, οἷσι μάλιστα πεποίθεα πᾶσαν ἐπ' ἰθύν.
τόφρα δ' ἄρ' ἥ γ' ὑποδῦσα θαλάσσης εὐρέα κόλπον
τέσσαρα φωκάων ἐκ πόντου δέρματ' ἔνεικε· -
πάντα δ' ἔσαν νεόδαρτα· - δόλον δ' ἐπεμήδετο πατρί.
εὐνὰς δ' ἐν ψαμάθοισι διαγλάψασ' ἁλίῃσιν
ἧστο μένουσ'· ἡμεῖς δὲ μάλα σχεδὸν ἤλθομεν αὐτῆς·
ἑξείης δ' εὔνησε, βάλεν δ' ἐπὶ δέρμα ἑκάστῳ.
ἔνθα κεν αἰνότατος λόχος ἔπλετο· τεῖρε γὰρ αἰνῶς
φωκάων ἁλιοτρεφέων ὀλοώτατος ὀδμή·
τίς γάρ κ' εἰναλίῳ παρὰ κήτεϊ κοιμηθείη;
ἀλλ' αὐτὴ ἐσάωσε καὶ ἐφράσατο μέγ' ὄνειαρ·
ἀμβροσίην ὑπὸ ῥῖνα ἑκάστῳ θῆκε φέρουσα
ἡδὺ μάλα πνείουσαν, ὄλεσσε δὲ κήτεος ὀδμήν.
πᾶσαν δ' ἠοίην μένομεν τετληότι θυμῷ·
φῶκαι δ' ἐξ ἁλὸς ἦλθον ἀολλέες. αἱ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἑξῆς εὐνάζοντο παρὰ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης·
ἔνδιος δ' ὁ γέρων ἦλθ' ἐξ ἁλός, εὗρε δὲ φώκας
ζατρεφέας, πάσας δ' ἄρ' ἐπῴχετο, λέκτο δ' ἀριθμόν.
ἐν δ' ἡμέας πρώτους λέγε κήτεσιν, οὐδέ τι θυμῷ
ὠΐσθη δόλον εἶναι· ἔπειτα δὲ λέκτο καὶ αὐτός.
ἡμεῖς δὲ ἰάχοντες ἐπεσσύμεθ', ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας
βάλλομεν· οὐδ' ὁ γέρων δολίης ἐπελήθετο τέχνης,
ἀλλ' ἦ τοι πρώτιστα λέων γένετ' ἠϋγένειος,
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα δράκων καὶ πάρδαλις ἠδὲ μέγας σῦς·
[γίνετο δ' ὑγρὸν ὕδωρ καὶ δένδρεον ὑψιπέτηλον.]
ἡμεῖς δ' ἀστεμφέως ἔχομεν τετληότι θυμῷ.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δή ῥ' ἀνίαζ' ὁ γέρων ὀλοφώϊα εἰδώς,
καὶ τότε δή μ' ἐπέεσσιν ἀνειρόμενος προσέειπε·
τίς νύ τοι, Ἀτρέος υἱέ, θεῶν συμφράσσατο βουλάς,
ὄφρα μ' ἕλοις ἀέκοντα λοχησάμενος; τέο σε χρή;
ὣς ἔφατ', αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
οἶσθα, γέρον· τί με ταῦτα παρατροπέων ἐρεείνεις;
ὡς δὴ δήθ' ἐνὶ νήσῳ ἐρύκομαι, οὐδέ τι τέκμωρ
εὑρέμεναι δύναμαι, μινύθει δέ μοι ἔνδοθεν ἦτορ.
ἀλλὰ σύ πέρ μοι εἰπέ, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα ἴσασιν,
ὅς τίς μ' ἀθανάτων πεδάᾳ καὶ ἔδησε κελεύθου,
νόστον θ', ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσομαι ἰχθυόεντα.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μ' αὐτίκ' ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
ἀλλὰ μάλ' ὤφελλες Διί τ' ἄλλοισίν τε θεοῖσι
ῥέξας ἱερὰ κάλ' ἀναβαινέμεν, ὄφρα τάχιστα
σὴν ἐς πατρίδ' ἵκοιο πλέων ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον.
οὐ γάρ τοι πρὶν μοῖρα φίλους τ' ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐϋκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,

πρίν γ' ὅτ' ἂν Αἰγύπτοιο, διιπετέος ποταμοῖο,
αὖτις ὕδωρ ἔλθῃς ῥέξῃς θ' ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας
ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι·
καὶ τότε τοι δώσουσιν ὁδὸν θεοί, ἣν σὺ μενοινᾷς.
ὣς ἔφατ', αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,
οὕνεκά μ' αὖτις ἄνωγεν ἐπ' ἠεροειδέα πόντον
Αἴγυπτόνδ' ἰέναι, δολιχὴν ὁδὸν ἀργαλέην τε.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὧς μύθοισιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ταῦτα μὲν οὕτω δὴ τελέω, γέρον, ὡς σὺ κελεύεις.
ἀλλ' ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
ἢ πάντες σὺν νηυσὶν ἀπήμονες ἦλθον Ἀχαιοί,
οὓς Νέστωρ καὶ ἐγὼ λίπομεν Τροίηθεν ἰόντες,
ἦέ τις ὤλετ' ὀλέθρῳ ἀδευκέϊ ἧς ἐπὶ νηὸς
ἠὲ φίλων ἐν χερσίν, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσεν.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μ' αὐτίκ' ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
Ἀτρεΐδη, τί με ταῦτα διείρεαι; οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ
ἴδμεναι, οὐδὲ δαῆναι ἐμὸν νόον· οὐδέ σέ φημι
δὴν ἄκλαυτον ἔσεσθαι, ἐπεί κ' ἐῢ πάντα πύθηαι.
πολλοὶ μὲν γὰρ τῶν γε δάμεν, πολλοὶ δὲ λίποντο·
ἀρχοὶ δ' αὖ δύο μοῦνοι Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων
ἐν νόστῳ ἀπόλοντο· μάχῃ δέ τε καὶ σὺ παρῆσθα.
εἷς δ' ἔτι που ζωὸς κατερύκεται εὐρέϊ πόντῳ.
Αἴας μὲν μετὰ νηυσὶ δάμη δολιχηρέτμοισι·
Γυρῇσίν μιν πρῶτα Ποσειδάων ἐπέλασσε
πέτρῃσιν μεγάλῃσι καὶ ἐξεσάωσε θαλάσσης·
καί νύ κεν ἔκφυγε κῆρα, καὶ ἐχθόμενός περ Ἀθήνῃ,
εἰ μὴ ὑπερφίαλον ἔπος ἔκβαλε καὶ μέγ' ἀάσθη·
φῆ ῥ' ἀέκητι θεῶν φυγέειν μέγα λαῖτμα θαλάσσης.
τοῦ δὲ Ποσειδάων μεγάλ' ἔκλυεν αὐδήσαντος·
αὐτίκ' ἔπειτα τρίαιναν ἑλὼν χερσὶ στιβαρῇσιν
ἤλασε Γυραίην πέτρην, ἀπὸ δ' ἔσχισεν αὐτήν·
καὶ τὸ μὲν αὐτόθι μεῖνε, τὸ δὲ τρύφος ἔμπεσε πόντῳ,
τῷ ῥ' Αἴας τὸ πρῶτον ἐφεζόμενος μέγ' ἀάσθη·
τὸν δ' ἐφόρει κατὰ πόντον ἀπείρονα κυμαίνοντα.
[ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθ' ἀπόλωλεν, ἐπεὶ πίεν ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.]
σὸς δέ που ἔκφυγε κῆρας ἀδελφεὸς ἠδ' ὑπάλυξεν
ἐν νηυσὶ γλαφυρῇσι· σάωσε δὲ πότνια Ἥρη.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ τάχ' ἔμελλε Μαλειάων ὄρος αἰπὺ
ἵξεσθαι, τότε δή μιν ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα
πόντον ἐπ' ἰχθυόεντα φέρεν βαρέα στενάχοντα,
ἀγροῦ ἐπ' ἐσχατιήν, ὅθι δώματα ναῖε Θυέστης
τὸ πρίν, ἀτὰρ τότ' ἔναιε Θυεστιάδης Αἴγισθος.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ καὶ κεῖθεν ἐφαίνετο νόστος ἀπήμων,
ἂψ δὲ θεοὶ οὖρον στρέψαν, καὶ οἴκαδ' ἵκοντο,
ἦ τοι ὁ μὲν χαίρων ἐπεβήσετο πατρίδος αἴης,
καὶ κύνει ἁπτόμενος ἣν πατρίδα· πολλὰ δ' ἀπ' αὐτοῦ
δάκρυα θερμὰ χέοντ', ἐπεὶ ἀσπασίως ἴδε γαῖαν.
τὸν δ' ἄρ' ἀπὸ σκοπιῆς εἶδε σκοπός, ὅν ῥα καθεῖσεν
Αἴγισθος δολόμητις ἄγων, ὑπὸ δ' ἔσχετο μισθὸν
χρυσοῦ δοιὰ τάλαντα· φύλασσε δ' ὅ γ' εἰς ἐνιαυτόν,
μή ἑ λάθοι παριών, μνήσαιτο δὲ θούριδος ἀλκῆς.
βῆ δ' ἴμεν ἀγγελέων πρὸς δώματα ποιμένι λαῶν.
αὐτίκα δ' Αἴγισθος δολίην ἐφράσσατο τέχνην·
κρινάμενος κατὰ δῆμον ἐείκοσι φῶτας ἀρίστους
εἷσε λόχον, ἑτέρωθι δ' ἀνώγει δαῖτα πένεσθαι·
αὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ καλέων Ἀγαμέμνονα, ποιμένα λαῶν,
ἵπποισιν καὶ ὄχεσφιν, ἀεικέα μερμηρίζων.
τὸν δ' οὐκ εἰδότ' ὄλεθρον ἀνήγαγε καὶ κατέπεφνε
δειπνίσσας, ὥς τίς τε κατέκτανε βοῦν ἐπὶ φάτνῃ.
οὐδέ τις Ἀτρεΐδεω ἑτάρων λίπεθ', οἵ οἱ ἕποντο,
οὐδέ τις Αἰγίσθου, ἀλλ' ἔκταθεν ἐν μεγάροισιν.
ὣς ἔφατ', αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,
κλαῖον δ' ἐν ψαμάθοισι καθήμενος, οὐδέ νύ μοι κῆρ
ἤθελ' ἔτι ζώειν καὶ ὁρᾶν φάος ἠελίοιο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κλαίων τε κυλινδόμενός τε κορέσθην,
δὴ τότε με προσέειπε γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής·
μηκέτι, Ἀτρέος υἱέ, πολὺν χρόνον ἀσκελὲς οὕτω
κλαῖ', ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἄνυσίν τινα δήομεν· ἀλλὰ τάχιστα
πείρα, ὅπως κεν δὴ σὴν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηαι.
ἢ γάρ μιν ζωόν γε κιχήσεαι, ἤ κεν Ὀρέστης
κτεῖνεν ὑποφθάμενος· σὺ δέ κεν τάφου ἀντιβολήσαις.
ὣς ἔφατ', αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ
αὖτις ἐνὶ στήθεσσι καὶ ἀχνυμένῳ περ ἰάνθη,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·
τούτους μὲν δὴ οἶδα· σὺ δὲ τρίτον ἄνδρ' ὀνόμαζε,
ὅς τις ἔτι ζωὸς κατερύκεται εὐρέϊ πόντῳ
[ἠὲ θανών· ἐθέλω δὲ καὶ ἀχνύμενός περ ἀκοῦσαι.]
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μ' αὐτίκ' ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
υἱὸς Λαέρτεω, Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκία ναίων·
τὸν δ' ἴδον ἐν νήσῳ θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντα,
νύμφης ἐν μεγάροισι Καλυψοῦς, ἥ μιν ἀνάγκῃ
ἴσχει· ὁ δ' οὐ δύναται ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·
οὐ γάρ οἱ πάρα νῆες ἐπήρετμοι καὶ ἑταῖροι,
οἵ κέν μιν πέμποιεν ἐπ' εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.
σοὶ δ' οὐ θέσφατόν ἐστι, διοτρεφὲς ὦ Μενέλαε,
Ἄργει ἐν ἱπποβότῳ θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν,
ἀλλά σ' ἐς Ἠλύσιον πεδίον καὶ πείρατα γαίης
ἀθάνατοι πέμψουσιν, ὅθι ξανθὸς Ῥαδάμανθυς, -
τῇ περ ῥηΐστη βιοτὴ πέλει ἀνθρώποισιν·
οὐ νιφετός, οὔτ' ἂρ χειμὼν πολὺς οὔτε ποτ' ὄμβρος,
ἀλλ' αἰεὶ ζεφύροιο λιγὺ πνείοντος ἀήτας
Ὠκεανὸς ἀνίησιν ἀναψύχειν ἀνθρώπους, -
οὕνεκ' ἔχεις Ἑλένην καί σφιν γαμβρὸς Διός ἐσσι.
ὣς εἰπὼν ὑπὸ πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα,
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆας ἅμ' ἀντιθέοισ' ἑτάροισιν
ἤϊα, πολλὰ δέ μοι κραδίη πόρφυρε κιόντι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥ' ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλθομεν ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
δόρπον θ' ὁπλισάμεσθ' ἐπί τ' ἤλυθεν ἀμβροσίη νύξ,
δὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
ἦμος δ' ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
νῆας μὲν πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσαμεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν,
ἐν δ' ἱστοὺς τιθέμεσθα καὶ ἱστία νηυσὶν ἐΐσῃς·
ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βάντες ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,
ἑξῆς δ' ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἂψ δ' εἰς Αἰγύπτοιο, διιπετέος ποταμοῖο,
στῆσα νέας καὶ ἔρεξα τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κατέπαυσα θεῶν χόλον αἰὲν ἐόντων,
χεῦ' Ἀγαμέμνονι τύμβον, ἵν' ἄσβεστον κλέος εἴη.
ταῦτα τελευτήσας νεόμην, ἔδοσαν δέ μοι οὖρον
ἀθάνατοι, τοί μ' ὦκα φίλην ἐς πατρίδ' ἔπεμψαν.
ἀλλ' ἄγε νῦν ἐπίμεινον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσιν,
ὄφρα κεν ἑνδεκάτη τε δυωδεκάτη τε γένηται·
καὶ τότε σ' εὖ πέμψω, δώσω δέ τοι ἀγλαὰ δῶρα,
τρεῖς ἵππους καὶ δίφρον ἐΰξοον· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
δώσω καλὸν ἄλεισον, ἵνα σπένδῃσθα θεοῖσιν
ἀθανάτοισ' ἐμέθεν μεμνημένος ἤματα πάντα.»

τὸν δ' αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
«Ἀτρεΐδη, μὴ δή με πολὺν χρόνον ἐνθάδ' ἔρυκε.
καὶ γάρ κ' εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν ἐγὼ παρὰ σοί γ' ἀνεχοίμην
ἥμενος, οὐδέ κέ μ' οἴκου ἕλοι πόθος οὐδὲ τοκήων·
αἰνῶς γὰρ μύθοισιν ἔπεσσί τε σοῖσιν ἀκούων
τέρπομαι· ἀλλ' ἤδη μοι ἀνιάζουσιν ἑταῖροι
ἐν Πύλῳ ἠγαθέῃ· σὺ δέ με χρόνον ἐνθάδ' ἐρύκεις.
δῶρον δ', ὅττι κέ μοι δώῃς, κειμήλιον ἔστω·
ἵππους δ' εἰς Ἰθάκην οὐκ ἄξομαι, ἀλλὰ σοὶ αὐτῷ
ἐνθάδε λείψω ἄγαλμα· σὺ γὰρ πεδίοιο ἀνάσσεις
εὐρέος, ᾧ ἔνι μὲν λωτὸς πολύς, ἐν δὲ κύπειρον
πυροί τε ζειαί τε ἰδ' εὐρυφυὲς κρῖ λευκόν.
ἐν δ' Ἰθάκῃ οὔτ' ἂρ δρόμοι εὐρέες οὔτε τι λειμών·
αἰγίβοτος, καὶ μᾶλλον ἐπήρατος ἱπποβότοιο.
οὐ γάρ τις νήσων ἱππήλατος οὐδ' εὐλείμων,
αἵ θ' ἁλὶ κεκλίαται· Ἰθάκη δέ τε καὶ περὶ πασέων.»

ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος,
χειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξεν ἔπος τ' ἔφατ' ἔκ τ' ὀνόμαζεν·

«αἵματός εἰς ἀγαθοῖο, φίλον τέκος, οἷ' ἀγορεύεις·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μεταστήσω· δύναμαι γάρ.
δώρων δ', ὅσσ' ἐν ἐμῷ οἴκῳ κειμήλια κεῖται,
δώσω, ὃ κάλλιστον καὶ τιμηέστατόν ἐστι.
δώσω τοι κρητῆρα τετυγμένον· ἀργύρεος δὲ
ἔστιν ἅπας, χρυσῷ δ' ἐπὶ χείλεα κεκράανται,
ἔργον δ' Ἡφαίστοιο· πόρεν δέ ἑ Φαίδιμος ἥρως,
Σιδονίων βασιλεύς, ὅθ' ἑὸς δόμος ἀμφεκάλυψε
κεῖσέ με νοστήσαντα· τεῒν δ' ἐθέλω τόδ' ὀπάσσαι.»

ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,

δαιτυμόνες δ' ἐς δώματ' ἴσαν θείου βασιλῆος.
οἱ δ' ἦγον μὲν μῆλα, φέρον δ' εὐήνορα οἶνον·
σῖτον δέ σφ' ἄλοχοι καλλικρήδεμνοι ἔπεμπον.

ὣς οἱ μὲν περὶ δεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πένοντο,
μνηστῆρες δὲ πάροιθεν Ὀδυσσῆος μεγάροιο
δίσκοισιν τέρποντο καὶ αἰγανέῃσιν ἱέντες,
ἐν τυκτῷ δαπέδῳ, ὅθι περ πάρος, ὕβριν ἔχοντες.
Ἀντίνοος δὲ καθῆστο καὶ Εὐρύμαχος θεοειδής,
ἀρχοὶ μνηστήρων, ἀρετῇ δ' ἔσαν ἔξοχ' ἄριστοι.
τοῖς δ' υἱὸς Φρονίοιο Νοήμων ἐγγύθεν ἐλθὼν
Ἀντίνοον μύθοισιν ἀνειρόμενος προσέειπεν·

«Ἀντίνο', ἤ ῥά τι ἴδμεν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἦε καὶ οὐκί,
ὁππότε Τηλέμαχος νεῖτ' ἐκ Πύλου ἠμαθόεντος;
νῆά μοι οἴχετ' ἄγων· ἐμὲ δὲ χρεὼ γίνεται αὐτῆς
Ἤλιδ' ἐς εὐρύχορον διαβήμεναι, ἔνθα μοι ἵπποι
δώδεκα θήλειαι, ὑπὸ δ' ἡμίονοι ταλαεργοὶ
ἀδμῆτες· τῶν κέν τιν' ἐλασσάμενος δαμασαίμην.»

ὣς ἔφαθ', οἱ δ' ἀνὰ θυμὸν ἐθάμβεον· οὐ γὰρ ἔφαντο
ἐς Πύλον οἴχεσθαι Νηλήϊον, ἀλλά που αὐτοῦ
ἀγρῶν ἢ μήλοισι παρέμμεναι ἠὲ συβώτῃ.

τὸν δ' αὖτ' Ἀντίνοος προσέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός·
«νημερτές μοι ἔνισπε· πότ' ᾤχετο καὶ τίνες αὐτῷ
κοῦροι ἕποντ'; Ἰθάκης ἐξαίρετοι, ἦ ἑοὶ αὐτοῦ
θῆτές τε δμῶές τε; δύναιτό κε καὶ τὸ τελέσσαι.
καί μοι τοῦτ' ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρ' ἐῢ εἰδῶ,
ἤ σε βίῃ ἀέκοντος ἀπηύρα νῆα μέλαιναν,
ἦε ἑκών οἱ δῶκας, ἐπεὶ προσπτύξατο μύθῳ.»

τὸν δ' υἱὸς Φρονίοιο Νοήμων ἀντίον ηὔδα·
«αὐτὸς ἑκών οἱ δῶκα· τί κεν ῥέξειε καὶ ἄλλος,
ὁππότ' ἀνὴρ τοιοῦτος, ἔχων μελεδήματα θυμῷ,
αἰτίζῃ; χαλεπόν κεν ἀνήνασθαι δόσιν εἴη.
κοῦροι δ', οἳ κατὰ δῆμον ἀριστεύουσι μεθ' ἡμέας,
οἵ οἱ ἕποντ'· ἐν δ' ἀρχὸν ἐγὼ βαίνοντ' ἐνόησα
Μέντορα ἠὲ θεόν, τῷ δ' αὐτῷ πάντα ἐῴκει.
ἀλλὰ τὸ θαυμάζω· ἴδον ἐνθάδε Μέντορα δῖον
χθιζὸν ὑπηοῖον. τότε δ' ἔμβη νηῒ Πύλονδε.»

ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη πρὸς δώματα πατρός,
τοῖσιν δ' ἀμφοτέροισιν ἀγάσσατο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
μνηστῆρας δ' ἄμυδις κάθισαν καὶ παῦσαν ἀέθλων.
τοῖσιν δ' Ἀντίνοος μετέφη, Εὐπείθεος υἱός,
ἀχνύμενος· μένεος δὲ μέγα φρένες ἀμφιμέλαιναι
πίμπλαντ', ὄσσε δέ οἱ πυρὶ λαμπετόωντι ἐΐκτην·

«ὢ πόποι, ἦ μέγα ἔργον ὑπερφιάλως ἐτελέσθη
Τηλεμάχῳ ὁδὸς ἥδε· φάμεν δέ οἱ οὐ τελέεσθαι.
εἰ τοσσῶνδ' ἀέκητι νέος πάϊς οἴχεται αὔτως,
νῆα ἐρυσσάμενος κρίνας τ' ἀνὰ δῆμον ἀρίστους,
ἄρξει καὶ προτέρω κακὸν ἔμμεναι· ἀλλά οἱ αὐτῷ
Ζεὺς ὀλέσειε βίην, πρὶν ἥβης μέτρον ἱκέσθαι.
ἀλλ' ἄγε μοι δότε νῆα θοὴν καὶ εἴκοσ' ἑταίρους,
ὄφρα μιν αὖτις ἰόντα λοχήσομαι ἠδὲ φυλάξω
ἐν πορθμῷ Ἰθάκης τε Σάμοιό τε παιπαλοέσσης,
ὡς ἂν ἐπισμυγερῶς ναυτίλεται εἵνεκα πατρός.»

ὣς ἔφαθ', οἱ δ' ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδ' ἐκέλευον·
αὐτίκ' ἔπειτ' ἀνστάντες ἔβαν δόμον εἰς Ὀδυσῆος.

οὐδ' ἄρα Πηνελόπεια πολὺν χρόνον ἦεν ἄπυστος
μύθων, οὓς μνηστῆρες ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βυσσοδόμευον.
κῆρυξ γάρ οἱ ἔειπε Μέδων, ὃς ἐπεύθετο βουλὰς
αὐλῆς ἐκτὸς ἐών· οἱ δ' ἔνδοθι μῆτιν ὕφαινον.
βῆ δ' ἴμεν ἀγγελέων διὰ δώματα Πηνελοπείῃ·
τὸν δὲ κατ' οὐδοῦ βάντα προσηύδα Πηνελόπεια·

«κῆρυξ, τίπτε δέ σε πρόεσαν μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοί;
ἦ εἰπέμεναι δμῳῇσιν Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο
ἔργων παύσασθαι, σφίσι δ' αὐτοῖς δαῖτα πένεσθαι;
μὴ μνηστεύσαντες μηδ' ἄλλοθ' ὁμιλήσαντες
ὕστατα καὶ πύματα νῦν ἐνθάδε δειπνήσειαν·
οἳ θάμ' ἀγειρόμενοι βίοτον κατακείρετε πολλόν,
κτῆσιν Τηλεμάχοιο δαΐφρονος. οὐδέ τι πατρῶν
ὑμετέρων τὸ πρόσθεν ἀκούετε, παῖδες ἐόντες,
οἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκε μεθ' ὑμετέροισι τοκεῦσιν,
οὔτε τινὰ ῥέξας ἐξαίσιον οὔτε τι εἰπὼν
ἐν δήμῳ; ἥ τ' ἐστὶ δίκη θείων βασιλήων·
ἄλλον κ' ἐχθαίρῃσι βροτῶν, ἄλλον κε φιλοίη.
κεῖνος δ' οὔ ποτε πάμπαν ἀτάσθαλον ἄνδρα ἐώργει·
ἀλλ' ὁ μὲν ὑμέτερος θυμὸς καὶ ἀεικέα ἔργα
φαίνεται, οὐδέ τίς ἐστι χάρις μετόπισθ' εὐεργέων.»

τὴν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε Μέδων, πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·
«εἰ γὰρ δή, βασίλεια, τόδε πλεῖστον κακὸν εἴη.
ἀλλὰ πολὺ μεῖζόν τε καὶ ἀργαλεώτερον ἄλλο
μνηστῆρες φράζονται, ὃ μὴ τελέσειε Κρονίων·
Τηλέμαχον μεμάασι κατακτάμεν ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ
οἴκαδε νισόμενον· ὁ δ' ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν
ἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην ἠδ' ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν.»

ὣς φάτο, τῆς δ' αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ·
δὴν δέ μιν ἀφασίη ἐπέων λάβε, τὼ δέ οἱ ὄσσε
δακρυόφιν πλῆσθεν, θαλερὴ δέ οἱ ἔσχετο φωνή.
ὀψὲ δὲ δή μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε·

«κῆρυξ, τίπτε δέ μοι πάϊς οἴχεται; οὐδέ τί μιν χρεὼ
νηῶν ὠκυπόρων ἐπιβαινέμεν, αἵ θ' ἁλὸς ἵπποι
ἀνδράσι γίνονται, περόωσι δὲ πουλὺν ἐφ' ὑγρήν.
ἦ ἵνα μηδ' ὄνομ' αὐτοῦ ἐν ἀνθρώποισι λίπηται;»

τὴν δ' ἠμείβετ' ἔπειτα Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·
«οὐκ οἶδ', ἤ τίς μιν θεὸς ὤρορεν, ἦε καὶ αὐτοῦ
θυμὸς ἐφωρμήθη ἴμεν ἐς Πύλον, ὄφρα πύθηται
πατρὸς ἑοῦ ἢ νόστον ἢ ὅν τινα πότμον ἐπέσπεν.»

ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη κατὰ δῶμ' Ὀδυσῆος.
τὴν δ' ἄχος ἀμφεχύθη θυμοφθόρον, οὐδ' ἄρ' ἔτ' ἔτλη
δίφρῳ ἐφέζεσθαι πολλῶν κατὰ οἶκον ἐόντων,
ἀλλ' ἄρ' ἐπ' οὐδοῦ ἷζε πολυκμήτου θαλάμοιο
οἴκτρ' ὀλοφυρομένη· περὶ δὲ δμῳαὶ μινύριζον
πᾶσαι, ὅσαι κατὰ δώματ' ἔσαν νέαι ἠδὲ παλαιαί.
τῇς δ' ἁδινὸν γοόωσα μετηύδα Πηνελόπεια·

«κλῦτε, φίλαι· περὶ γάρ μοι Ὀλύμπιος ἄλγε' ἔδωκεν
ἐκ πασέων, ὅσσαι μοι ὁμοῦ τράφον ἠδ' ἐγένοντο,
ἣ πρὶν μὲν πόσιν ἐσθλὸν ἀπώλεσα θυμολέοντα,
παντοίῃσ' ἀρετῇσι κεκασμένον ἐν Δαναοῖσιν,
ἐσθλόν, τοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ καθ' Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος.
νῦν αὖ παῖδ' ἀγαπητὸν ἀνηρέψαντο θύελλαι
ἀκλέα ἐκ μεγάρων, οὐδ' ὁρμηθέντος ἄκουσα.
σχέτλιαι, οὐδ' ὑμεῖς περ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θέσθε ἑκάστη
ἐκ λεχέων μ' ἀνεγεῖραι, ἐπιστάμεναι σάφα θυμῷ,
ὁππότε κεῖνος ἔβη κοίλην ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν.
εἰ γὰρ ἐγὼ πυθόμην ταύτην ὁδὸν ὁρμαίνοντα,
τῶ κε μάλ' ἤ κεν ἔμεινε, καὶ ἐσσύμενός περ ὁδοῖο,
ἤ κέ με τεθνηυῖαν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔλειπεν.
ἀλλά τις ὀτρηρῶς Δολίον καλέσειε γέροντα,
δμῶ' ἐμόν, ὅν μοι δῶκε πατὴρ ἔτι δεῦρο κιούσῃ,
καί μοι κῆπον ἔχει πολυδένδρεον, ὄφρα τάχιστα
Λαέρτῃ τάδε πάντα παρεζόμενος καταλέξῃ,
εἰ δή πού τινα κεῖνος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μῆτιν ὑφήνας
ἐξελθὼν λαοῖσιν ὀδύρεται, οἳ μεμάασιν
ὃν καὶ Ὀδυσσῆος φθεῖσαι γόνον ἀντιθέοιο.»

τὴν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
«νύμφα φίλη, σὺ μὲν ἄρ με κατάκτανε νηλέϊ χαλκῷ,
ἢ ἔα ἐν μεγάρῳ· μῦθον δέ τοι οὐκ ἐπικεύσω.
ᾔδε' ἐγὼ τάδε πάντα, πόρον δέ οἱ, ὅσσ' ἐκέλευσε,
σῖτον καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ· ἐμεῦ δ' ἕλετο μέγαν ὅρκον
μὴ πρὶν σοὶ ἐρέειν, πρὶν δωδεκάτην γε γενέσθαι
ἤ σ' αὐτὴν ποθέσαι καὶ ἀφορμηθέντος ἀκοῦσαι,
ὡς ἂν μὴ κλαίουσα κατὰ χρόα καλὸν ἰάπτῃς.
ἀλλ' ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθ' ἑλοῦσα,
εἰς ὑπερῷ' ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν
εὔχε' Ἀθηναίῃ κούρῃ Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο·
ἡ γάρ κέν μιν ἔπειτα καὶ ἐκ θανάτοιο σαώσαι.
μηδὲ γέροντα κάκου κεκακωμένον· οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω
πάγχυ θεοῖς μακάρεσσι γονὴν Ἀρκεισιάδαο
ἔχθεσθ', ἀλλ' ἔτι πού τις ἐπέσσεται, ὅς κεν ἔχῃσι
δώματά θ' ὑψερεφέα καὶ ἀπόπροθι πίονας ἀγρούς.»

ὣς φάτο, τῆς δ' εὔνησε γόον, σχέθε δ' ὄσσε γόοιο.
ἡ δ' ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθ' ἑλοῦσα,
εἰς ὑπερῷ' ἀνέβαινε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξίν,
ἐν δ' ἔθετ' οὐλοχύτας κανέῳ, ἠρᾶτο δ' Ἀθήνῃ·

«κλῦθί μευ, αἰγιόχοιο Διὸς τέκος, Ἀτρυτώνη,
εἴ ποτέ τοι πολύμητις ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἢ βοὸς ἢ ὄϊος κατὰ πίονα μηρία κῆε,
τῶν νῦν μοι μνῆσαι καί μοι φίλον υἷα σάωσον,

μνηστῆρας δ' ἀπάλαλκε κακῶς ὑπερηνορέοντας.»

ὣς εἰποῦσ' ὀλόλυξε, θεὰ δέ οἱ ἔκλυεν ἀρῆς.
μνηστῆρες δ' ὁμάδησαν ἀνὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα·
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·

«ἦ μάλα δὴ γάμον ἄμμι πολυμνήστη βασίλεια
ἀρτύει, οὐδέ τι οἶδεν, ὅ οἱ φόνος υἷϊ τέτυκται.»

ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε, τὰ δ' οὐκ ἴσαν, ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.
τοῖσιν δ' Ἀντίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·

«δαιμόνιοι, μύθους μὲν ὑπερφιάλους ἀλέασθε
πάντες ὁμῶς, μή πού τις ἀπαγγείλῃσι καὶ εἴσω.
ἀλλ' ἄγε σιγῇ τοῖον ἀναστάντες τελέωμεν
μῦθον, ὃ δὴ καὶ πᾶσιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἤραρεν ἥμιν.»

ὣς εἰπὼν ἐκρίνατ' ἐείκοσι φῶτας ἀρίστους,
βὰν δ' ἰέναι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.
νῆα μὲν οὖν πάμπρωτον ἁλὸς βένθοσδε ἔρυσσαν,
ἐν δ' ἱστόν τε τίθεντο καὶ ἱστία νηῒ μελαίνῃ,
ἠρτύναντο δ' ἐρετμὰ τροποῖσ' ἐν δερματίνοισι
[πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν· ἀνά θ' ἱστία λευκὰ πέτασσαν·]
τεύχεα δέ σφ' ἤνεικαν ὑπέρθυμοι θεράποντες.
ὑψοῦ δ' ἐν νοτίῳ τήν γ' ὥρμισαν, ἐκ δ' ἔβαν αὐτοί·
ἔνθα δὲ δόρπον ἕλοντο, μένον δ' ἐπὶ ἕσπερον ἐλθεῖν.

ἡ δ' ὑπερωΐῳ αὖθι περίφρων Πηνελόπεια
κεῖτ' ἄρ' ἄσιτος, ἄπαστος ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,
ὁρμαίνουσ', ἤ οἱ θάνατον φύγοι υἱὸς ἀμύμων,
ἦ ὅ γ' ὑπὸ μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι δαμείη.
ὅσσα δὲ μερμήριξε λέων ἀνδρῶν ἐν ὁμίλῳ
δείσας, ὁππότε μιν δόλιον περὶ κύκλον ἄγωσι,
τόσσα μιν ὁρμαίνουσαν ἐπήλυθε νήδυμος ὕπνος·
εὗδε δ' ἀνακλινθεῖσα, λύθεν δέ οἱ ἅψεα πάντα.

ἔνθ' αὖτ' ἄλλ' ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
εἴδωλον ποίησε, δέμας δ' ἤϊκτο γυναικί,
Ἰφθίμῃ, κούρῃ μεγαλήτορος Ἰκαρίοιο,
τὴν Εὔμηλος ὄπυιε, Φερῇσ' ἔνι οἰκία ναίων.
πέμπε δέ μιν πρὸς δώματ' Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,
εἷος Πηνελόπειαν ὀδυρομένην γοόωσαν
παύσειε κλαυθμοῖο γόοιό τε δακρυόεντος.
ἐς θάλαμον δ' εἰσῆλθε παρὰ κληῖδος ἱμάντα,
στῆ δ' ἄρ' ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·

«εὕδεις, Πηνελόπεια, φίλον τετιημένη ἦτορ;
οὐ μέν σ' οὐδὲ ἐῶσι θεοὶ ῥεῖα ζώοντες
κλαίειν οὐδ' ἀκάχησθαι, ἐπεί ῥ' ἔτι νόστιμός ἐστι
σὸς πάϊς· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι θεοῖσ' ἀλιτήμενός ἐστι.»

τὴν δ' ἠμείβετ' ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
ἡδὺ μάλα κνώσσουσ' ἐν ὀνειρείῃσι πύλῃσιν·

«τίπτε, κασιγνήτη, δεῦρ' ἤλυθες; οὔ τι πάρος γε
πωλέ', ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὸν ἀπόπροθι δώματα ναίεις·
καί με κέλεαι παύσασθαι ὀϊζύος ἠδ' ὀδυνάων
πολλέων, αἵ μ' ἐρέθουσι κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν·
ἣ πρὶν μὲν πόσιν ἐσθλὸν ἀπώλεσα θυμολέοντα,
παντοίῃσ' ἀρετῇσι κεκασμένον ἐν Δαναοῖσιν,
ἐσθλόν, τοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ καθ' Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος.
νῦν αὖ παῖς ἀγαπητὸς ἔβη κοίλης ἐπὶ νηός,
νήπιος, οὔτε πόνων εὖ εἰδὼς οὔτ' ἀγοράων.
τοῦ δὴ ἐγὼ καὶ μᾶλλον ὀδύρομαι ἤ περ ἐκείνου.
τοῦ δ' ἀμφιτρομέω καὶ δείδια μή τι πάθῃσιν,
ἢ ὅ γε τῶν ἐνὶ δήμῳ, ἵν' οἴχεται, ἢ ἐνὶ πόντῳ·
δυσμενέες γὰρ πολλοὶ ἐπ' αὐτῷ μηχανόωνται,
ἱέμενοι κτεῖναι, πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενον προσέφη εἴδωλον ἀμαυρόν·
«θάρσει, μηδέ τι πάγχυ μετὰ φρεσὶ δείδιθι λίην·
τοίη γάρ οἱ πομπὸς ἅμ' ἔρχεται, ἥν τε καὶ ἄλλοι
ἀνέρες ἠρήσαντο παρεστάμεναι, δύναται γάρ,
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη· σὲ δ' ὀδυρομένην ἐλεαίρει·
ἣ νῦν με προέηκε τεῒν τάδε μυθήσασθαι.»

τὴν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
«εἰ μὲν δὴ θεός ἐσσι, θεοῖό τε ἔκλυες αὐδήν,
εἰ δ' ἄγε μοι καὶ κεῖνον ὀϊζυρὸν κατάλεξον,
ἤ που ἔτι ζώει καὶ ὁρᾷ φάος ἠελίοιο,
ἦ ἤδη τέθνηκε καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισι.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενον προσέφη εἴδωλον ἀμαυρόν·
«οὐ μέν τοι κεῖνόν γε διηνεκέως ἀγορεύσω,
ζώει ὅ γ' ἦ τέθνηκε· κακὸν δ' ἀνεμώλια βάζειν.»

ὣς εἰπὸν σταθμοῖο παρὰ κληῖδα λιάσθη
ἐς πνοιὰς ἀνέμων· ἡ δ' ἐξ ὕπνου ἀνόρουσε
κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο· φίλον δέ οἱ ἦτορ ἰάνθη,
ὥς οἱ ἐναργὲς ὄνειρον ἐπέσσυτο νυκτὸς ἀμολγῷ.

μνηστῆρες δ' ἀναβάντες ἐπέπλεον ὑγρὰ κέλευθα,
Τηλεμάχῳ φόνον αἰπὺν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ὁρμαίνοντες.
ἔστι δέ τις νῆσος μέσσῃ ἁλὶ πετρήεσσα,
μεσσηγὺς Ἰθάκης τε Σάμοιό τε παιπαλοέσσης,
Ἀστερίς, οὐ μεγάλη, λιμένες δ' ἔνι ναύλοχοι αὐτῇ
ἀμφίδυμοι· τῇ τόν γε μένον λοχόωντες Ἀχαιοί.

ODYSSEY 4

So they came to the hollow land of Lacedaemon, with its many ravines, and drove toward the palace of glorious Menelaus. They found him giving a wedding feast for his many kin, for both his son and his peerless daughter, in his own house. The girl he was sending to the son of Achilles, breaker of men's ranks; for it was in Troy that he first promised and gave his nod to give her, and the gods were now bringing their marriage to pass. So he sent her forth with horses and chariots to journey to the far-famed city of the Myrmidons, over whom her husband was king. And for his son, he was bringing a bride from Sparta, the daughter of Alector, for his sturdy Megapenthes, his only son, born to him late of a bondwoman; for to Helen the gods gave no more children after she had first brought forth her lovely daughter, Hermione, who had the beauty of golden Aphrodite.
And so they feasted throughout the great, high-roofed hall, the neighbors and kinsmen of glorious Menelaus, making merry; and among them a divine minstrel sang to the lyre; and two tumblers, as he began his song, spun and vaulted in their midst. Meanwhile, at the outer gates of the palace, the two of them and their horses— the hero Telemachus and the splendid son of Nestor— had drawn to a halt. The lord Eteoneus, coming forth, saw them, a keen attendant of glorious Menelaus, and he went through the palace to bear the tidings to the shepherd of the people, and standing near him, he spoke these winged words:
“There are two strangers here, O Menelaus, cherished by Zeus, two men who seem of the lineage of great Zeus himself. Tell me, should we unyoke their swift horses, or send them on to another who might give them welcome?”
Then fair-haired Menelaus, greatly vexed, addressed him: “You were no fool before, Eteoneus, son of Boethous, but now you speak folly, like a child. Surely we two have eaten the bread of hospitality from many other men on our way here, praying that Zeus might someday grant us an end to our sorrow. Unyoke the strangers’ horses, and lead the men themselves inside to share our feast.”
So he spoke, and Eteoneus hastened from the hall, and called to the other keen attendants to follow him. They unyoked the sweating horses from beneath the harness, and tied them at the horse-mangers,
and cast before them spelt, mixing white barley with it, and leaned the chariot against the gleaming entrance walls, and led the men into the divine palace. And they, as they looked, gazed in wonder about the house of the Zeus-cherished king; for a radiance as of the sun or the moon shone through the high-roofed palace of glorious Menelaus. But when they had sated their eyes with gazing, they went to the polished tubs and bathed. And when the maidservants had bathed them and anointed them with oil, and had cast about them fleecy cloaks and tunics, they took their seats on thrones beside Menelaus, son of Atreus. Then a handmaid brought water for washing in a pitcher of fine gold, and poured it over a silver basin, for them to wash their hands; and she drew up a polished table beside them. And the revered housekeeper brought bread and set it before them, adding many dainties, giving freely of her stores. [And a carver lifted up platters of meats of all kinds and set them before them, and placed golden cups beside them.] And fair-haired Menelaus gestured to them and spoke:
“Partake of the food and rejoice; and then, after you have eaten your supper, we shall ask who you are among men; for the lineage of your fathers is surely not lost in you, but you are the sons of Zeus-cherished kings, wielders of the sceptre, since base men would not beget sons such as you.”
So he spoke, and placed in their hands the rich chine of an ox, taking the roasted portion that had been set before him as a dish of honor. And they stretched out their hands to the good things that lay ready. But when they had put away their desire for food and drink, Telemachus then addressed the son of Nestor, holding his head close, so that the others might not hear:
“Consider, son of Nestor, delight of my heart, the flash of bronze throughout these echoing halls, and of gold and of electrum, of silver and of ivory. Surely the court of Olympian Zeus within must be such as this, with all these countless treasures. Awe seizes me as I look.”
Fair-haired Menelaus understood what he was saying, and raising his voice he addressed them with winged words:
“My dear children, no mortal man can vie with Zeus; for his halls and his possessions are immortal. But among men, one might vie with me in possessions, or perhaps not. For I have suffered much and wandered far to gather them, bringing them home in my ships in the eighth year of my journey. I wandered to Cyprus, to Phoenicia, and to the Egyptians; I came to the Ethiopians, the Sidonians, and the Erembi, and to Libya, where the lambs are horned from birth. There the ewes give birth three times in a single year; there no lord and no shepherd ever lacks for cheese or meat or sweet milk, for the flocks give milk in abundance the whole year round. While I was gathering great wealth in those lands and wandering, another man murdered my brother by stealth, caught unawares, through the treachery of his accursed wife. So I take no joy in being lord of all these possessions. And of these things you must have heard from your fathers, whoever they may be; for I suffered greatly, and I lost a house richly appointed and filled with many fine things. I wish I lived in my halls with only a third of this wealth, if only those men were safe who died then in the broad land of Troy, far from horse-pasturing Argos. And yet, though I mourn and grieve for them all, and often as I sit here in my halls, sometimes I indulge my heart in lamentation, and at other times I stop; for a man quickly grows weary of chilling grief. Yet for all of them I do not mourn so much, great as my sorrow is, as for one man, who makes me loathe both sleep and food when I think of him; for no one of the Achaeans toiled so much as Odysseus toiled and endured. But for him, it seems, the end was to be sorrow, and for me, an unending grief for him that will never be forgotten, for he has been gone so long, and we do not know if he is alive or dead. Surely they mourn him now, old Laertes and wise Penelope and Telemachus, whom he left a newborn in his house.”
So he spoke, and in Telemachus he stirred a yearning to weep for his father. A tear fell from his eyelids to the ground when he heard his father’s name, and he held his purple cloak up before his eyes with both his hands. And Menelaus perceived this, and pondered then in his mind and in his heart, whether he should let him speak of his father himself, or whether he should first question him and test him on every point.
While he was weighing these things in his mind and heart, Helen came forth from her fragrant, high-roofed chamber, like Artemis of the golden spindle. For her, Adraste at once placed a well-wrought chair, and Alcippe brought a rug of softest wool, and Phylo brought a silver basket, which she had been given by Alcandre, the wife of Polybus, who dwelt in Egyptian Thebes, where the greatest store of treasure lies in the houses. He gave Menelaus two silver bathtubs, two tripods, and ten talents of gold. And apart from these, his wife gave Helen beautiful gifts: a golden distaff, and a basket that ran on wheels, fashioned of silver, with rims finished in gold. This basket her handmaid Phylo brought and set beside her, filled with finely spun yarn; and across it lay the distaff with wool of a violet-dark hue. She sat down upon the chair, and a footstool was beneath her feet. And at once she began to question her husband on every matter:
“Do we know, Menelaus, cherished by Zeus, who these men claim to be who have come to our house? Shall I speak falsely or the truth? My heart bids me speak. For I say that I have never seen any other so like, neither man nor woman—awe seizes me as I look— as this man is like the son of great-hearted Odysseus, Telemachus, whom that man left a newborn in his house, when for my sake, shameless creature that I was, you Achaeans came to Troy, stirring up bold-hearted war.”
And fair-haired Menelaus answered her and said: “Now I see it too, my wife, just as you surmise. For such were his feet, and such his hands, and the glances of his eyes, his head, and the hair upon it. And just now, as I was calling Odysseus to mind and telling of all the bitter toils he suffered for my sake, this one let a thick tear fall from beneath his brows, holding his purple cloak before his eyes.”
Then Pisistratus, son of Nestor, answered him in turn: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, cherished by Zeus, commander of armies, this is indeed his son, just as you say. But he is prudent, and feels shame in his heart, upon his first visit, at making a display of words before you, in whose voice we both delight as in a god’s. But the Gerenian horseman, Nestor, sent me forth to be his escort, for he yearned to see you, so that you might suggest some word or course of action to him. For a son whose father is gone suffers many griefs in his halls, when he has no others to be his helpers, as is now the case with Telemachus: his father is gone, and there are no others in the land who might ward off evil from him.”
And fair-haired Menelaus answered him and said: “By the gods, it is indeed the son of a dear friend who has come to my house, of one who for my sake endured many trials. And I had vowed that when he returned, I would love him beyond all other Argives, if far-seeing Olympian Zeus had granted us a return across the sea in our swift ships. And I would have founded a city for him in Argos and built him a house, bringing him from Ithaca with his possessions and his son and all his people, after sacking one city of those that are settled round about, and are ruled by me. And here we would have often met; nor would anything have parted us, loving and delighting in each other, until the black cloud of death at last enfolded us. But surely the god himself must have begrudged this, who has made that wretched man alone unable to return.”
So he spoke, and in them all he stirred a yearning for grief. Argive Helen, daughter of Zeus, began to weep. And Telemachus wept, and Menelaus, son of Atreus, nor did the son of Nestor keep his eyes free from tears; for he remembered in his heart the blameless Antilochus, whom the glorious son of shining Dawn had slain. And remembering him, he spoke these winged words:
“Son of Atreus, old Nestor used to say that you were prudent beyond all other men, whenever we spoke of you in his halls and questioned one another. And now, if it is at all possible, be persuaded by me; for I myself take no pleasure in weeping after dinner—but soon the dawn will be born of morning. I feel no indignation at weeping for any mortal who has died and met his fate. This is the only tribute left for wretched mortals: to cut one’s hair and let the tears fall from one’s cheeks. For my own brother is dead, and he was by no means the least of the Argives; you must have known him, for I never met or saw him. But they say that Antilochus was pre-eminent, both swift in the race and a fighter.”
And fair-haired Menelaus answered him and said: “My friend, since you have said all that a prudent man might say and do, even one who was older, for you come from such a father, and so you speak with prudence. Easily known is the child of a man for whom the son of Cronos spins the thread of fortune in marriage and in birth, as he has granted to Nestor, throughout all his days, that he himself should grow old in glistening prosperity in his halls, and his sons in turn be wise and supreme with the spear. So let us now put aside the lamentation that arose before, and think again of our supper, and let them pour water on our hands. There will be tales for the morning, too, for Telemachus and me to tell one another.”
So he spoke, and Asphalion poured water over their hands, the keen attendant of glorious Menelaus. And they stretched out their hands to the good things that lay ready.
Then Helen, daughter of Zeus, had another thought. At once she cast a drug into the wine from which they drank, a balm for sorrow and anger, bringing oblivion to all ills. Whoever should drink this down, once it was mixed in the bowl, would not let a tear fall down his cheeks for a whole day, not even if his mother and his father should die, not even if before his very eyes men should slay with the bronze his brother or his own dear son. Such cunning drugs the daughter of Zeus possessed, precious medicines which Polydamna, wife of Thon, had given her, an Egyptian woman, for there the grain-giving earth bears the greatest store of drugs, many that are healing when mixed, and many that are baneful; and every man there is a physician, skilled beyond all other men; for they are of the lineage of Paeon. Then, after she had cast in the drug and ordered the wine to be served, she once more took up the tale and spoke among them:
“Menelaus, son of Atreus, cherished by Zeus, and you also, sons of noble men—though to one man at one time and to another at another Zeus gives both good and evil, for he has power over all things— now then, feast, seated in our halls, and take delight in stories, for I will tell what is fitting. All of them I could not tell or name, all the trials of steadfast Odysseus; but here is one deed which that mighty man devised and dared in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered. Having scarred himself with disfiguring blows, and casting wretched rags about his shoulders, in the guise of a servant, he entered the wide-wayed city of the enemy. He hid his true self, appearing as another man, a beggar, one who was nothing like the man he was by the Achaean ships. In this likeness he entered the city of the Trojans, and they were all deceived. I alone recognized him for who he was, and I questioned him, but he in his cunning tried to elude me. But when at last I was bathing him and anointing him with oil, and had put clothing on him and sworn a mighty oath not to reveal Odysseus among the Trojans before he reached the swift ships and the huts again, only then did he tell me the whole design of the Achaeans. And after slaying many Trojans with the long-bladed bronze, he returned to the Argives, bearing with him much knowledge. Then the other Trojan women wailed aloud, but my own heart rejoiced, for my spirit had already turned to go back to my home, and I lamented the folly that Aphrodite sent me, when she led me there from my own dear country, forsaking my child, my bridal chamber, and my husband, a man lacking in nothing, neither in mind nor in beauty.”
And fair-haired Menelaus answered her and said: “Yes, all this, my wife, you have spoken as is right. I have by now come to know the counsel and the mind of many heroes, and have travelled over much of the earth; but never have I seen with my own eyes a man with such a heart as steadfast Odysseus possessed. Such another deed that mighty man devised and dared in the polished horse, wherein all we chieftains of the Argives were sitting, bringing slaughter and doom to the Trojans. Then you came there; and it must have been a divinity who bade you come, one who wished to grant glory to the Trojans; and godlike Deiphobus followed you as you came. Three times you circled the hollow hiding-place, feeling its surface, and you called out by name to the chieftains of the Danaans, mimicking the voice of the wife of each of the Argives. Now I and the son of Tydeus and godlike Odysseus, sitting in the middle, heard you as you called out. Both of us were eager and strained to rise up and go out, or to answer you at once from within; but Odysseus held us back and checked us, despite our eagerness. Then all the other sons of the Achaeans remained silent, and Anticlus alone wanted to answer you with words; but Odysseus clamped his mouth shut with his hands, relentlessly, with his mighty strength, and so saved all the Achaeans. He held him thus until Pallas Athena led you away.”
Then the prudent Telemachus answered him in turn: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, cherished by Zeus, commander of armies, all the more grievous; for these things did not ward off his grim destruction, not even if the heart within him had been of iron. But come, lead us to our beds, so that now at last we may take our pleasure in sweet sleep and rest.”
So he spoke, and Argive Helen bade her handmaids to place bedsteads under the portico and to throw fine purple blankets upon them, and to spread rugs on top, and to lay fleecy cloaks above to be their covering. And the maids went from the hall with torches in their hands, and spread the bedding; and a herald led the strangers out. So they lay down to sleep there in the forecourt of the house, the hero Telemachus and the splendid son of Nestor. But the son of Atreus slept in the recess of the lofty house, and beside him lay Helen of the long robes, brightest of women.
As soon as early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, Menelaus, master of the war-cry, rose from his bed, put on his garments, and slung his sharp sword about his shoulder. Beneath his glistening feet he bound his fine sandals, and went forth from his chamber, looking like a god, and sat down beside Telemachus, and spoke a word and called him by name:
“Hero Telemachus, what need has brought you here, to divine Lacedaemon, over the broad back of the sea? Is it a public matter or your own? Tell me this truly.”
Then the prudent Telemachus answered him in turn: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, cherished by Zeus, commander of armies, I have come in hope that you might tell me some news of my father. My house is being devoured, my rich estates are ruined, and my home is full of hostile men, who are forever slaughtering my thronging sheep and my shambling, horn-curved oxen, the suitors of my mother, whose insolence is past all bounds. For this reason I now come to your knees, in the hope that you might be willing to tell me of his grim destruction, if you have perhaps seen it with your own eyes or have heard the tale from another wanderer; for his mother bore him to a life of sorrow beyond all men. And do not, out of deference or pity, soften your words for me, but tell me truly whatever you chanced to have seen. I beseech you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus, faithfully fulfilled a promise to you in word or deed in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered your pains—
remember these things now, and tell me the truth.”
Then fair-haired Menelaus, greatly angered, addressed him: “By the gods! So it is in the bed of a mighty-hearted man that these have wished to lie, they who are themselves so lacking in courage. As when a doe in the dense thicket of a mighty lion has laid her newborn, suckling fawns to sleep and roams the mountain slopes and grassy valleys seeking pasture, and he then comes back into his own lair and brings a shameful doom upon them both, so will Odysseus bring a shameful doom upon these men. O Father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo, if only he were as he was once in well-built Lesbos, when he rose up in a quarrel and wrestled with the son of Philomeleus and threw him down mightily, to the joy of all the Achaeans— if Odysseus, being such a man, should come among the suitors, they would all meet a swift fate and a bitter wedding. But as to these things you ask and beseech of me, I would not speak evasively or deceive you; but of the things the unerring Old Man of the Sea told me, not a word will I hide or keep from you.
In Egypt, though I was eager to sail for home, the gods still held me, because I did not offer them perfect hecatombs; and the gods always wish for men to be mindful of their commands. Now, there is an island in the surging sea, off the coast of Egypt, and they call it Pharos, as far away as a hollow ship can sail in a whole day when a shrill wind blows fair from behind. On it is a harbor with good anchorage, from which men launch their well-balanced ships into the sea, after drawing fresh water. There the gods held me for twenty days, and never did the sea-winds appear that are wont to blow, which serve as escorts for ships over the broad back of the sea. And now all my provisions would have been spent and the spirit of my men with them, if one of the gods had not pitied and saved me, the daughter of mighty Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea, Eidothea; for I stirred her heart more than any other. She met me as I was wandering alone, away from my comrades; for they were always roaming about the island, trying to fish with bent hooks, for hunger tormented their bellies. She stood near me and spoke a word and addressed me: ‘Are you so simple, stranger, or so slack of will, or do you give way on purpose and take pleasure in suffering pains? For you are held so long on this island, and can find no end to it, and the hearts of your comrades are wasting away.’ So she spoke, and I answered her, saying: ‘I will tell you truly, whichever of the goddesses you may be, that I am not held here of my own will at all, but I must have sinned against the immortals who hold the wide heavens. But tell me this, for the gods know all things, which of the immortals chains me here and has barred my way, and tell me of my return, how I might go over the fish-filled sea.’ So I spoke, and the bright goddess answered me at once: ‘Then I will tell you, stranger, most truthfully. There is an unerring Old Man of the Sea who frequents this place, the immortal Proteus of Egypt, who knows all the depths of the sea, and is a servant of Poseidon. They say he is my father and my begetter. If you could somehow lie in wait and seize him, he would tell you your path and the measure of your journey, and of your return, how you may go over the fish-filled sea. And he would also tell you, O cherished of Zeus, if you wish, what evil and what good has come to pass in your halls while you have been gone on your long and arduous way.’ So she spoke, and I answered her, saying: ‘Then you yourself devise an ambush for the divine old man, lest he see me beforehand or know of my coming and escape me. For a god is a difficult thing for a mortal man to master.’ So I spoke, and the bright goddess answered me at once: [‘Then I will tell you these things most truthfully.] When the sun has reached the middle of the heavens, then the unerring Old Man of the Sea comes out of the brine on the breath of the West Wind, veiled in the dark ripple of the water, and coming forth he lies down to sleep under the hollow caves. And around him the seals, the brood of the fair Halosydne, sleep in a herd, having come up from the gray sea, breathing out the bitter smell of the deep sea’s brine. There I will lead you at the break of dawn and lay you in a row; but you must choose well your companions, three men who are the best beside your well-benched ships. And I will tell you all the wiles of that old man. First he will number the seals and go among them. Then, when he has counted them all and looked them over, he will lie down in their midst, like a shepherd among his flock of sheep. As soon as you see him laid down to rest, then you must summon your strength and your might, and hold him there, though he is eager and straining to escape. He will try to become all things, whatever creeping things are on the earth, and water, and blazing fire. But you must hold him steadfastly and press him all the harder. But when he at last speaks to you himself and questions you, in the same form as you saw him when he lay down to rest, then you must cease your force and release the old man, hero, and ask him which of the gods is angry with you, and about your return, how you may go over the fish-filled sea.’ So speaking, she plunged into the surging sea. But I went to the ships, where they stood on the sands, and my heart was dark with many thoughts as I went. But when I came down to the ship and to the sea, we prepared our supper, and immortal night came on, and then we slept on the shore of the sea. As soon as early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, I walked along the shore of the wide-wayed sea, praying earnestly to the gods; and I took with me three of my companions, whom I trusted most for any undertaking. Meanwhile, the goddess, having plunged into the broad gulf of the sea, brought forth from the depths the skins of four seals; all were freshly flayed, for she was plotting a trick for her father. She scooped out lairs for us in the sea-sands, and sat waiting; and we came up very close to her. She laid us down in a row, and threw a skin over each man. There our ambush would have been most terrible; for the deadly stench of the sea-bred seals afflicted us terribly. Who would choose to lie down beside a monster of the sea? But she herself saved us and devised a great remedy: she brought and placed ambrosia under each man’s nose, which smelled very sweet, and it drove away the monster’s stench. All morning we waited with enduring hearts. The seals came from the sea in a throng. They then lay down in a row along the sea-shore. At midday the old man came from the sea, and found the fatted seals, and he went over them all and counted their number. Among the sea-beasts he counted us first, and did not suspect in his heart that there was a trick; and then he too lay down. With a shout we rushed upon him and threw our arms about him; and the old man did not forget his cunning arts. First he became a bearded lion, and then a serpent, and a leopard, and a great boar. [He became flowing water and a tree with lofty branches.] But we held on steadfastly with enduring hearts. But when the old man, who knew his wily arts, grew weary, he at last questioned me and addressed me with words: ‘Which of the gods, son of Atreus, plotted with you, that you might lie in wait and seize me against my will? What do you need?’ So he spoke, and I answered him, saying: ‘You know, old man; why do you ask me this, trying to turn me aside? I am held for a long time on this island, and can find no end to it, and my heart within me is wasting away. But tell me this, for the gods know all things, which of the immortals chains me here and has barred my way, and of my return, how I may go over the fish-filled sea.’ So I spoke, and he at once answered me, saying: ‘But you ought to have made fine offerings to Zeus and the other gods before embarking, so that you might most swiftly reach your homeland, sailing over the wine-dark sea. For it is not your fate to see your friends and reach your well-built house and your own native land,
until you have gone again to the waters of Aegyptus, the river fallen from Zeus, and have performed sacred hecatombs for the immortal gods who hold the wide heavens; and then the gods will grant you the path that you desire.’ So he spoke, and my own heart was broken within me, because he bade me go again over the misty sea to Egypt, a long and arduous way. But even so, I answered him with words and said: ‘I will indeed accomplish this, old man, just as you command. But come, tell me this and declare it truly: did all the Achaeans return unharmed with their ships, all those whom Nestor and I left behind when we set out from Troy, or did any perish by a cruel death on his own ship or in the arms of his friends, after he had wound up the war?’ So I spoke, and he at once answered me, saying: ‘Son of Atreus, why do you question me on this? There is no need for you to know, or to learn my mind; and I think you will not long be without tears, when you have heard all. For many of them were slain, and many were left; but only two chieftains of the bronze-clad Achaeans perished on their journey home; and you yourself were present at the fighting. And one is still alive, held captive on the wide sea. Ajax was lost among his long-oared ships. Poseidon first drove him against the great rocks of Gyrae and saved him from the sea. And he would have escaped his doom, though hated by Athena, had he not thrown out a boastful word and become greatly blinded by folly. He declared that in spite of the gods he had escaped the great gulf of the sea. Poseidon heard his great boast, and at once, taking up his trident in his stout hands, he struck the Gyraean rock, and split it apart. And one part of it remained there, but the fragment fell into the sea, the piece on which Ajax was first sitting when his folly overcame him; and it carried him down into the boundless, surging sea. [So he perished there, after he had drunk the salt water.] But your brother did escape his doom and elude it in his hollow ships, for the lady Hera saved him. But when he was about to reach the steep mountain of Malea, a storm snatched him up and carried him, groaning heavily, over the fish-filled sea, to the farthest edge of the country, where Thyestes had his home in former times, but where Thyestes’ son Aegisthus then lived. But when from there, too, a safe return seemed possible, and the gods turned the wind fair again, and they reached home, he then set foot rejoicing on his native soil, and touched and kissed his own land; and many warm tears poured from him, when he saw his land with gladness. But a watchman saw him from a lookout post, one whom crafty Aegisthus had led there and set in place, having promised him as a reward two talents of gold; and he had been keeping watch for a year, lest he pass by unnoticed and call to mind his furious valor. And he went to bear the tidings to the house of the shepherd of the people. At once Aegisthus devised a treacherous plan: choosing twenty of the best men in the land, he set an ambush, and on the other side he ordered a feast to be prepared. Then he went to summon Agamemnon, shepherd of the people, with horses and chariot, pondering wicked deeds. He led him up, suspecting nothing of his doom, and killed him at the feast, as one might kill an ox at its manger. So I spoke, and he at once answered me, saying: ‘The son of Laertes, who has his home in Ithaca. I saw him on an island, shedding flowing tears, in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him there by force; and he cannot reach his native land, for he has no oared ships and no companions who might escort him over the broad back of the sea. But for you, O Menelaus, cherished by Zeus, it is not fated to die and meet your doom in horse-pasturing Argos, but to the Elysian plain and the ends of the earth the immortals will send you, where fair-haired Rhadamanthus is— there where life is easiest for men. There is no snow, nor any great storm, nor ever any rain, but always the breezes of the shrill-blowing West Wind does Oceanus send up to refresh mankind— because you have Helen and are the son-in-law of Zeus.’ So speaking, he plunged into the surging sea. But I, with my godlike companions, went to the ships, and my heart was dark with many thoughts as I went. But when we came down to the ship and to the sea, we prepared our supper, and immortal night came on, and then we slept on the shore of the sea. As soon as early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, first of all we dragged our ships into the divine sea, and set the masts and sails in the well-balanced ships. And the men themselves embarked and sat down at the oarlocks, and sitting in rows, they struck the gray sea with their oars. Back again to Aegyptus, the river fallen from Zeus, I moored my ships and performed the perfect hecatombs. And when I had appeased the wrath of the ever-living gods, I heaped up a mound for Agamemnon, so that his glory might be unquenchable. Having done these things, I came home, and the immortals gave me a fair wind and sent me swiftly to my own dear native land. But come now, remain here in my halls, until the eleventh or the twelfth day comes. And then I will send you off well, and I will give you glorious gifts, three horses and a well-polished chariot; and then I will give you a beautiful cup, so that you may pour libations to the immortal gods, and remember me all your days.”
Then the prudent Telemachus answered him in turn: “Son of Atreus, do not keep me here for a long time. For I could bear to sit with you even for a year, and no longing for my home or my parents would seize me; for I am wonderfully delighted as I listen to your tales and your words. But already my companions are growing restless in sacred Pylos, and you are keeping me here a long time. As for the gift, whatever you would give me, let it be a keepsake. I will not take horses to Ithaca, but will leave them here for you to delight in; for you are lord of a wide plain, where there is much clover, and galingale, and wheat and spelt and broad-bladed white barley. But in Ithaca there are no wide courses, nor any meadows. It is a land for goats, and more lovely than one fit for horses. For none of the islands are good for driving horses or rich in meadows, of all those that lie upon the sea; and Ithaca least of all.”
So he spoke, and Menelaus, master of the war-cry, smiled, and stroked him with his hand, and spoke a word and called him by name:
“You are of good blood, dear child, to speak so. Therefore I will exchange these things for you; for I can. Of the gifts that lie as treasures in my house, I will give you the one that is most beautiful and most precious. I will give you a skillfully wrought mixing-bowl; it is of solid silver, and its rims are finished with gold, the work of Hephaestus. The hero Phaedimus, king of the Sidonians, gave it to me when his house sheltered me on my return journey there; and I wish to give it to you.”
So they spoke these things to one another.
And feasters came to the house of the divine king. They drove sheep and brought invigorating wine, and their wives with beautiful veils sent bread for them.
Thus they were occupied with their supper in the halls. But the suitors, before the palace of Odysseus, were delighting themselves with the discus and with throwing the javelin, on a paved terrace, where they had before, full of their insolence. Antinous sat there, and godlike Eurymachus, chiefs of the suitors, who were by far the best in excellence. And Noemon, son of Phronius, came near to them, and questioning Antinous, he spoke to him with words:
“Antinous, do we know in our minds, or not, when Telemachus will return from sandy Pylos? He has gone taking a ship of mine, and I have need of it to cross over to spacious Elis, where I have twelve mares, and under them are hardy mules, as yet unbroken; I would drive off one of them and break it in.”
So he spoke, and they were amazed in their hearts; for they did not think he had gone to Neleian Pylos, but was somewhere on his own lands, either with his flocks or with the swineherd.
Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke to him in turn: “Tell me truly, when did he go, and who were the youths who followed him? The chosen men of Ithaca, or his own hired men and slaves? He could well have managed that too. And tell me this truthfully, so I may know well, did he take your black ship from you by force against your will, or did you give it to him willingly, since he entreated you with words?”
Then Noemon, son of Phronius, answered him in turn: “I gave it to him willingly myself; what else could anyone do, when such a man, with troubles in his heart, makes a request? It would be hard to refuse the gift. The youths who are the noblest in the land after us, they are the ones who follow him; and I saw as their leader embarking Mentor, or a god, who was in all things like him. But I marvel at this: I saw the divine Mentor here yesterday at dawn. But at that time he boarded the ship for Pylos.”
So speaking, he departed for his father’s house. And the proud hearts of those two were stirred with indignation. They made the suitors sit down together and cease their games. And Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them, greatly vexed; and his dark heart was filled with great rage, and his eyes were like blazing fire.
“By the gods! A great deed has been insolently accomplished by Telemachus, this journey; and we said it would not be done. Against the will of so many, a young boy goes off just so, launching a ship and picking the best men in the land. He will begin to be a greater evil still; but may Zeus destroy his strength, before he reaches the measure of his manhood. But come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions, so that I may lie in wait for him on his return and keep watch in the strait between Ithaca and rugged Samos, so that he will have a miserable voyage on his father’s account.”
So he spoke, and they all praised his words and urged him on. Then they at once rose and went to the house of Odysseus.
Now Penelope was not long without news of the words which the suitors were plotting deep in their hearts. For the herald Medon told her, who had heard their counsels while standing outside the courtyard, while they wove their plot within. He went to bear the tidings through the palace to Penelope; and as he crossed the threshold, Penelope addressed him:
“Herald, why have the noble suitors sent you? Was it to tell the handmaids of divine Odysseus to cease from their work, and prepare a feast for them? May they never have courted me, nor consorted with me again, but may they dine here now for the last and final time; you who gather here so often and lay waste to so much of our livelihood, the property of wise Telemachus. Did you never hear from your fathers, when you were children, what kind of man Odysseus was among your parents, doing no wrong to any man, nor speaking any wrongful word in the land? Which is the way of divine kings: one man they may hate among mortals, another they may love. But he never did a reckless thing to any man at all. But your own spirit and your shameful deeds are now made plain, and there is no gratitude for good deeds done in the past.”
And Medon, who knew her prudent mind, replied to her: “If only, my queen, this were the greatest of evils. But another, far greater and more grievous, the suitors are planning, which may the son of Cronos never bring to pass. They are bent on slaying Telemachus with the sharp bronze as he journeys homeward; for he went to seek news of his father in sacred Pylos and in divine Lacedaemon.”
So he spoke, and her knees gave way and her own heart melted. For a long time speechlessness seized her, and her two eyes filled with tears, and her rich voice was checked. At last, answering him with words, she addressed him:
“Herald, why has my son gone? He had no need to board the swift-faring ships, which serve as horses of the sea for men, and cross over the great watery plain. Was it so that not even his name might be left among men?”
Then Medon, who knew her prudent mind, answered her: “I do not know whether some god stirred him, or whether his own heart moved him to go to Pylos, to learn of his father’s return, or what fate he has met.”
So speaking, he went back through the house of Odysseus. And heart-destroying grief enveloped her, and she could no longer bear to sit upon a chair, though there were many in the house, but she sat on the threshold of her richly-wrought chamber, lamenting piteously; and her handmaids whimpered around her, all of them, as many as were in the house, both young and old. And Penelope, weeping thick and fast, spoke among them:
“Listen, my friends; for the Olympian has given me sorrows beyond all other women who were born and bred with me. I who first lost a noble husband with the heart of a lion, pre-eminent in all manner of virtues among the Danaans, a noble man, whose fame is wide throughout Hellas and middle Argos. And now the storm-winds have snatched away my beloved son from my halls without glory, and I did not hear of his setting out. Cruel women, not one of you took it into her heart to rouse me from my bed, though you knew well in your minds when he went aboard the hollow black ship. For if I had learned that he was planning this journey, then he surely would have stayed, however eager for the road, or else he would have left me dead in my own halls. But let someone quickly call the old man Dolius, my slave, whom my father gave me when I first came here, and who tends my orchard with its many trees, so that he may quickly go and sit beside Laertes and tell him all these things, to see if he might weave some plan in his mind and come forth and make his plea to the people, who are bent on destroying his own line and that of godlike Odysseus.”
Then her dear nurse, Eurycleia, spoke to her in turn: “My dear child, you may kill me now with the pitiless bronze, or let me be in the house; but I will not hide the truth from you. I knew all this, and I gave him what he commanded, bread and sweet wine; but he took a great oath from me not to speak to you before the twelfth day came, or until you yourself should miss him and hear that he had gone, so that you would not mar your lovely skin with weeping. But wash yourself, and take clean garments for your body, and go up to your chamber with your attendant women, and pray to Athena, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus. For she might then save him even from death. And do not trouble the old man, who is already troubled. For I do not think that the line of the son of Arcesius is so utterly hated by the blessed gods, but there will still be someone left to possess the high-roofed halls and the rich fields far away.”
So she spoke, and lulled her lament, and stayed her eyes from weeping. And Penelope washed herself, and taking clean garments for her body, went up to her chamber with her attendant women, and placed barley grains in a basket, and prayed to Athena:
“Hear me, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus, Atrytone! If ever resourceful Odysseus in these halls burned the rich thighs of an ox or a sheep to you, remember these things now, and save my dear son for me,
and ward off the suitors in their evil arrogance.”
So speaking, she cried aloud, and the goddess heard her prayer. But the suitors broke into an uproar throughout the shadowy halls; and one of the arrogant youths would speak thus:
“Surely now the long-wooed queen is preparing her marriage to one of us, and does not know that murder has been arranged for her son.”
So one of them would say, but they did not know how things had been arranged. And Antinous addressed the assembly and spoke among them:
“You fools, avoid these arrogant words, all of you, lest someone report them inside as well. But come, let us rise up in silence and carry out this plan, which has pleased the hearts of us all.”
So speaking, he chose twenty of the best men, and they went to the swift ship and the shore of the sea. First they dragged the ship down into the depths of the sea, and set the mast and sails in the black ship, and fitted the oars in their leather loops, [all in due order; and they spread the white sails.] And the high-spirited attendants brought their weapons for them. They moored the ship well out in the channel, and they themselves disembarked. There they took their supper, and waited for evening to come.
But she, the prudent Penelope, in her upper chamber, lay without food, having tasted neither food nor drink, wondering whether her blameless son would escape death, or whether he would be overcome by the arrogant suitors. And as a lion thinks, when caught in a crowd of men, full of fear, as they draw a treacherous circle around him, so she pondered, until sweet sleep came upon her. She slept, reclining, and all her joints were loosened.
Then the bright-eyed goddess Athena had another thought. She made a phantom, and its body was like a woman’s, Iphthime, the daughter of great-hearted Icarius, whom Eumelus had married, who dwelt in his house in Pherae. And she sent it to the house of divine Odysseus, so that it might make Penelope, who was mourning and lamenting, cease from her weeping and her tearful grief. It entered the chamber by the thong of the door-latch, and stood above her head and spoke this word to her:
“Are you sleeping, Penelope, your dear heart afflicted with sorrow? The gods who live at ease do not wish you to weep or to be troubled, since your son is still destined to return; for he is no sinner in the eyes of the gods.”
Then the prudent Penelope answered it, slumbering very sweetly at the gates of dreams:
“Why, my sister, have you come here? You have not been wont to visit before, since you live in a house very far away. And you bid me cease from my sorrow and from the many pains that stir my mind and my heart. I who first lost a noble husband with the heart of a lion, pre-eminent in all manner of virtues among the Danaans, a noble man, whose fame is wide throughout Hellas and middle Argos. And now my beloved son has gone on a hollow ship, a mere child, who knows nothing of toils or assemblies. For him I grieve even more than for that other. For him I tremble and fear lest he suffer some harm, either among the people where he has gone, or on the sea. For many enemies are plotting against him, eager to kill him, before he reaches his native land.”
And the dim phantom answered her and said: “Take heart, and do not be too fearful in your mind. For such an escort goes with him, one whom other men have prayed to have stand beside them, for she has the power, Pallas Athena; and she pities you in your grief. It is she who has sent me now to tell you these things.”
Then the prudent Penelope spoke to it in turn: “If you are indeed a god, and have heard the voice of a god, come, tell me also of that wretched man, whether he is still alive and sees the light of the sun, or is already dead and in the halls of Hades.”
And the dim phantom answered her and said: “Of him I will not speak to you at length, whether he is alive or dead; for it is wrong to speak empty words.”
So speaking, it slipped away by the latch of the doorpost into the breath of the winds. And the daughter of Icarius started up from sleep, and her dear heart was warmed, so clear was the dream that had rushed upon her in the dead of night.
But the suitors embarked and sailed over the watery ways, planning steep destruction for Telemachus in their hearts. There is a rocky island in the middle of the sea, midway between Ithaca and rugged Samos, Asteris, not large, but in it there are harbors that give anchorage, on either side. There the Achaeans lay in wait, watching for him.

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