Then wily Odysseus cast off his rags,and leapt upon the great threshold, holding the bow and the quiverfilled to the brim with arrows; and he poured out the swift shaftsthere before his feet, and spoke among the suitors:
“This fatal contest is now at an end;now I shall aim at another mark, one that no man has yet struck,to see if I might hit it, and if Apollo grants me the glory.”
So he spoke, and aimed a bitter arrow at Antinous.He, for his part, was about to raise a beautiful goblet,a golden cup with two handles, and was already holding it in his handsthat he might drink of the wine; slaughter was not on his mind.For who, among men at a feast, would imaginethat one man alone among so many, however strong he might be,would bring upon him evil death and black doom?But Odysseus took aim and shot him in the throat with an arrow,and the point passed clean through his tender neck.He slumped to one side, and the cup fell from his handas he was struck; and at once a thick jet of human blood gushed fromhis nostrils. With a sudden kick he thrust the table away from him,and the food spilled onto the floor,so that the bread and roasted meats were befouled. The suitors,all through the house, raised a clamor when they saw the man fall,and they sprang from their seats in turmoil, rushing through the hall,their eyes darting everywhere to the well-built walls;but nowhere was there a shield or a stout spear to be seized.And they assailed Odysseus with words of fury:
“Stranger, you aim your bow at men to your own ruin! No other contestsshall you enter; now your own utter destruction is certain.For you have just now slain the man who was by far the bestof all the young lords in Ithaca; for this, vultures shall devour you here.”
So each man spoke, for they truly believed he had not intendedto kill the man; the fools did not perceivethat the snares of destruction were now drawn tight for them all.Then with a dark glance wily Odysseus addressed them:
“You dogs, you who thought I would never return to my homefrom the land of the Trojans, so you devoured my household,and forced yourselves upon my serving women,and wooed my wife while I was still among the living,fearing neither the gods who hold the wide heavens,nor that any retribution from men would ever come.Now for all of you the snares of destruction are drawn tight.”
So he spoke, and a pallid fear seized them all.Each man looked about for a way to escape utter destruction.Only Eurymachus found his voice and answered him in turn:
“If you are indeed Odysseus of Ithaca, now returned,then what you have said is just, all the deeds the Achaeans have done,many reckless wrongs in your halls, and many in the fields.But he who was the cause of all this now lies dead,Antinous; for it was he who set these acts in motion,not so much from a need or desire for marriage,but with other designs, which the son of Cronos did not bring to pass for him:that he might himself be king over the people of well-founded Ithaca,after lying in wait to slay your son.But now he has been slain as was his due; so you, spare your own people.And we, for our part, will afterward make amends throughout the land,for all that has been drunk and eaten in your halls,each man bringing a price of twenty oxen in recompense,and we shall repay you in bronze and in gold, until your heartis satisfied. Before then, no one can blame you for your anger.”
But with a dark glance wily Odysseus answered him:“Eurymachus, not even if you were to give me all your ancestral wealth,all that you now possess and whatever more you might add from elsewhere,not even then would I stay my hands from the slaughter,until the suitors have paid for all their transgression.Now the choice lies before you: either to fight me face to faceor to flee, if any man may yet escape death and doom.But I think that none of you will escape utter destruction.”
So he spoke, and their knees gave way and their hearts trembled.And Eurymachus spoke to them once more, for a second time:
“My friends, this man will not hold back his invincible hands,but now that he has the polished bow and the quiver,he will shoot from the smooth threshold until he has slainevery last one of us. Therefore, let us think of battle!Draw your swords, and hold up the tables as shieldsagainst his swift-fated arrows. Let us all charge himas one, to see if we can force him from the threshold and the doors,and make our way through the city, so a cry may be raised at once.Then this man would soon have shot his last.”
Saying this, he drew his sharp sword,of bronze and sharpened on both edges, and leapt at Odysseuswith a terrible cry. But at that same moment noble Odysseusloosed an arrow, and struck him in the chest by the nipple,and the swift shaft lodged itself in his liver. From his handhe let the sword drop to the ground, and reeling against a tablehe fell, convulsed, and spilled the food to the flooralong with the two-handled cup. He struck the earth with his foreheadin the agony of his spirit, and with both his feethe kicked at his chair and shook it, and a mist fell over his eyes.
Then Amphinomus charged at glorious Odysseus,rushing straight for him and drawing his sharp sword,to see if he might force him from the doorway. But he was too late,for Telemachus struck him from behind with a bronze-tipped spearbetween the shoulders, and drove it through his chest.He fell with a thud, and struck the ground with his whole forehead.Telemachus sprang back, leaving the long-shadowing spearthere in Amphinomus; for he greatly feared that one of the Achaeans,as he pulled out the long-shadowing spear, might either rush himand strike him with a sword or cut him down as he bent over.He ran, and very quickly reached his dear father,and standing close beside him, spoke these winged words:
“Father, now I shall fetch you a shield and two spearsand a helmet of solid bronze that fits well upon the temples.And I shall arm myself as I go, and give arms to the swineherdand to the cowherd as well; for it is better to be armed.”
And wily Odysseus said to him in reply:“Run and bring them, while I have arrows to defend myself,lest they drive me from the doorway, now that I am alone.”
So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father,and went to the chamber where the glorious armor was stored.From there he took four shields, and eight spears,and four bronze helmets crested with horsehair;and he went, carrying them, and very quickly reached his dear father.He was the first to sheathe his own body in bronze;and in the same way the two servants armed themselves in the fine gear,and stood on either side of wise and resourceful Odysseus.
As for Odysseus, so long as he had arrows to defend himself,he kept taking aim and striking one of the suitors in his own house,and they fell one upon another in heaps.But when the arrows failed the archer king,he leaned the bow against a doorpost of the well-built hall,setting it against the gleaming panels.He himself slung a four-layered shield across his shoulders,and on his mighty head he placed a well-wrought helmetwith a horsehair crest, and terribly the plume nodded from above.Then he grasped two stout spears tipped with bronze.
Now, there was a raised door in the well-built wall,and at the very end of the threshold of the sturdy hallwas a way into a passage, closed by well-fitted planks.Odysseus ordered the noble swineherd to take watch of this door,standing near it, for there was only one way to approach.And Agelaus spoke among them, making his words known to all:
“My friends, could not someone climb up to the raised doorand tell the people, so a cry may be raised at once?Then this man would soon have shot his last.”
But Melanthius the goatherd spoke to him in turn:“It cannot be done, Agelaus, nurtured by Zeus. For the fine doors of the courtyardare terribly near, and the mouth of the passage is difficult;one man, if he were valiant, could hold it against us all.But come, let me bring you armor to donfrom the chamber; for I think it is inside, and nowhere else,that Odysseus and his glorious son have stored the arms.”
So saying, Melanthius the goatherd climbed upto the storerooms of Odysseus through the apertures of the hall.From there he brought out twelve shields, as many spears,and as many bronze helmets crested with horsehair.He went his way, and quickly brought them to the suitors and gave them.Then Odysseus’s knees gave way and his heart trembled,when he saw them putting on the armor and brandishing the longspears in their hands; the task ahead seemed immense to him.At once he spoke winged words to Telemachus:
“Telemachus, surely one of the women in the hallsis stirring up this evil war against us, or else it is Melanthius.”
And the wise Telemachus answered him in turn:“Father, it is I myself who have erred in this—no one elseis to blame—for I left the tightly-fitted door of the chamberajar; their lookout was better than ours.But go now, noble Eumaeus, close the door of the chamber,and see if it is one of the women who is doing this,or if it is Melanthius, son of Dolius, as I suspect.”
While they were speaking such things to one another,Melanthius the goatherd went again to the chamberto fetch more fine armor; but the noble swineherd saw him,and at once spoke to Odysseus who was standing near:
“Zeus-born son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus,that same destructive man, whom we ourselves suspected,is on his way to the chamber. Tell me truly,should I kill him, if I prove the stronger,or should I bring him here to you, so that he may pay for the manytransgressions he has devised in your house?”
And wily Odysseus said to him in reply:
“Truly, Telemachus and I will hold the proud suitorsinside the hall, however fiercely they may rage.You two, twist his feet and hands behind himand cast him into the chamber, and bind the doors shut behind him.Then fasten a braided rope to himand hoist him up the tall pillar to the roof beams,so that he may live for a long time yet, and suffer grievous pains.”
So he spoke, and they listened to him readily and obeyed.They went to the chamber, and he did not see them, being inside.He was in a corner of the chamber, searching for armor,while the two stood on either side of the doorposts, waiting.And when Melanthius the goatherd was crossing the threshold,carrying a fine helmet in one hand,and in the other a wide, old shield, spattered with mould,that belonged to the hero Laertes, which he used to carry in his youth;it had been lying there for some time, and the stitches of its straps had come undone;the two men sprang upon him, seized him, and dragged him insideby the hair, and threw him to the floor, his heart in agony.They bound his feet and hands together with a soul-tormenting bond,twisting them tightly behind his back, just as he had commanded,the son of Laertes, much-enduring, noble Odysseus.Then they fastened a braided rope to him,and hoisted him up the tall pillar and brought him near the roof beams.And mocking him, you spoke, Eumaeus the swineherd:
“Now indeed, Melanthius, you shall keep watch all through the night,lying on a soft bed, as is fitting for you.And the golden-throned Dawn, rising from the streams of Ocean,will not escape your notice, at the hour when you drive the goatsto the house to prepare a feast for the suitors.”
So he was left there, stretched in that deadly bond.The two put on their armor, closed the shining door,and went to join wise and resourceful Odysseus.There they stood, breathing fury, four of them on the threshold,while inside the hall were many fine men.And close to them came Athena, daughter of Zeus,in the likeness of Mentor, both in form and in voice.Odysseus rejoiced to see her and spoke a word:
“Mentor, ward off ruin, and remember your dear companion,who always treated you well; you are of an age with me.”
So he spoke, though he suspected it was Athena, rouser of armies.But on the other side, the suitors shouted in the hall,and the first to rebuke her was Agelaus, son of Damastor:
“Mentor, do not let Odysseus persuade you with his wordsto fight against the suitors and to defend him.For this is how I believe our purpose will be fulfilled:when we have killed these two, the father and the son,you too will be slain among them for what you mean todo in these halls; you will pay with your own head.And when we have taken your lives with the bronze,all the possessions that are yours, those inside and out,we shall mix with those of Odysseus. And we will not permit your sonsto live in your halls, nor your daughtersnor your faithful wife to walk about in the city of Ithaca.”
So he spoke, and Athena grew all the more angered in her heart,and she rebuked Odysseus with furious words:
“No longer, Odysseus, is your strength steadfast, nor your valoras it was when for the sake of white-armed Helen, of noble birth,for nine years you fought the Trojans, ever unceasingly.Many men you killed in the terrible fray of battle,and by your counsel Priam’s wide-wayed city was taken.How is it now, when you have come to your own house and possessions,you lament that you are not valiant against the suitors?But come now, my friend, stand beside me and behold my work,so you may know what kind of man Mentor, son of Alcimus,is, to repay your kindnesses in the midst of your foes.”
She spoke, but did not yet grant him decisive victory,for she still wished to test the strength and valorof both Odysseus and his glorious son.She herself, darting up to the smoke-blackened roof beam of the hall,settled there, in the likeness of a swallow.
The suitors were urged on by Agelaus, son of Damastor,and by Eurynomus, Amphimedon, Demoptolemus,Peisander son of Polyctor, and wise Polybus,for these were by far the best in valor among the suitors,as many as were still alive and fighting for their lives.The bow and the shower of arrows had already vanquished the others.And Agelaus spoke among them, making his words known to all:
“Friends, now this man will hold back his invincible hands.For Mentor has gone, after speaking empty boasts,and they are left alone at the very entrance.So now, do not all cast your long spears at once,but come, let the six of you throw first, to see if Zeus might somehowgrant that Odysseus be struck and we win the glory.As for the others, there is no concern, once this man has fallen.”
So he spoke, and they all cast their spears as he ordered,with all their might; but Athena made them all go wide of the mark.One man’s spear struck a post of the well-built hall,another’s struck the tightly-fitted door;and another’s ash spear, heavy with bronze, fell into the wall.But when they had evaded the spears of the suitors,much-enduring noble Odysseus was the first to speak to his men:
“My friends, now I would say it is our turnto cast our spears into the throng of suitors, who are eagerto strip our armor, adding to their former evils.”
So he spoke, and they all took aim and cast their sharp spears.Odysseus struck Demoptolemus,Telemachus struck Euryades, and the swineherd, Elatus,and the man who was keeper of the cattle killed Peisander.And so they all at once bit the vast ground with their teeth,and the suitors retreated to the far corner of the hall.But Odysseus and his men rushed forward, and pulled their spears from the corpses.
Again the suitors cast their sharp spearswith all their might; but Athena made many of them go wide of the mark.One man’s spear struck a post of the well-built hall,another’s struck the tightly-fitted door;and another’s ash spear, heavy with bronze, fell into the wall.But Amphimedon struck Telemachus on the hand at the wrist,a glancing blow, and the bronze scraped the skin.And Ctesippus, with his long spear over the shield of Eumaeus,grazed his shoulder; but the spear flew over and fell to the ground.Then again the men around wise and resourceful Odysseuscast their sharp spears into the throng of suitors.This time Odysseus, sacker of cities, struck Eurydamas,Telemachus struck Amphimedon, and the swineherd, Polybus.And then the man who was keeper of the cattle struck Ctesippusin the chest, and spoke, exulting over him:
“Son of Polytherses, you lover of mockery, never againgive way to folly and speak so grandly, but leave the wordto the gods, since they are far mightier.This is your guest-gift in return for the hoof you once gaveto godlike Odysseus as he wandered through his own house.”
So spoke the keeper of the sleek-horned cattle. And Odysseuswounded Damastorides at close range with his long spear.Telemachus wounded Leiocritus, son of Evenor,with his spear in the middle of the groin, and the bronze drove clean through;he fell forward, and struck the ground with his whole forehead.Then Athena held up her man-destroying aegisfrom high on the roof, and the minds of the suitors were thrown into panic.They fled through the great hall like a herd of cattlethat a shimmering gadfly attacks and scattersin the season of spring, when the days are long.But the others, like vultures with curving talons and hooked beaksthat come down from the mountains and swoop upon smaller birds,which fly low on the plain, cowering from the clouds,the vultures pounce and kill them, and there is no defenseand no escape, and the men who watch the hunt rejoice.So Odysseus and his men, rushing upon the suitors through the house,struck them down on all sides; and a hideous groaning aroseas their heads were struck, and the whole floor streamed with blood.
Leodes rushed forward and clasped the knees of Odysseus,and pleading with him, spoke these winged words:
“I clasp your knees, Odysseus; show me respect and have mercy on me.For I declare that I never said or did anything wickedto any of the women in your halls; on the contrary, I tried to stopthe other suitors, whenever one would do such things.
But they would not be persuaded to keep their hands from evil;and so for their recklessness they have met a hideous fate.But I, their diviner, having done nothing, will lie with them,since there is no gratitude for good deeds hereafter.”
Then with a dark glance wily Odysseus answered him:“If you truly claim to be their diviner,you must have often prayed in these hallsthat the day of my sweet homecoming would be far off,and that my dear wife would go with you and bear you children.Therefore you shall not escape a miserable death.”
So saying, he seized in his great hand a swordthat lay on the ground, which Agelaus had droppedas he was slain; with it he struck him full in the middle of the neck.And while he was still speaking, his head mingled with the dust.
But Phemius the bard, son of Terpias, still sought to escape black doom,he who sang among the suitors out of compulsion.He stood with the clear-toned lyre in his handsnear the raised door, and his mind was divided in two:whether to slip out of the hall to the great altar of Zeus,god of the courtyard, where Laertes and Odysseushad often burned the thigh-bones of oxen,or to rush forward and beseech Odysseus by his knees.And as he pondered, this seemed the better course:to clasp the knees of Odysseus, son of Laertes.So he set his hollow lyre down upon the groundmidway between the mixing bowl and the silver-studded chair,and he himself rushed forward and clasped the knees of Odysseusand pleading with him, spoke these winged words:
“I clasp your knees, Odysseus; show me respect and have mercy on me.It will be a sorrow to you hereafter if you slay a bard,one who sings for gods and for men.I am self-taught, and a god has planted in my mind all mannerof song. I am fit to sing for youas for a god; therefore do not be eager to cut my throat.And Telemachus, your own dear son, could tell you this,that I did not come to your house willingly, nor for want,to sing for the suitors after their feasts,but they, being far more numerous and stronger, brought me by force.”
So he spoke, and the sacred might of Telemachus heard him,and at once he spoke to his father who was standing near:
“Stay your hand, and do not wound this blameless man with the bronze.And let us also save Medon the herald, who alwayscared for me in our house when I was a child,unless Philoetius or the swineherd has already killed him,or he chanced upon you as you raged through the house.”
So he spoke, and Medon, a man of understanding, heard him,for he was lying huddled under a chair, and had wrapped himselfin the hide of a freshly flayed ox, trying to escape black doom.At once he rose from under the chair and cast off the ox-hide,and then rushed to Telemachus and clasped him by the knees,and pleading with him, spoke these winged words:
“Friend, here I am; hold back, and tell your fatherlest in his great strength he harm me with the sharp bronze,enraged as he is at the suitors, who devoured hispossessions in his halls and, like fools, paid you no honor.”
And wily Odysseus smiled at him and said:“Take heart, for this man has rescued and saved you,so that you may know in your heart, and tell another as well,how much better good-doing is than evil-doing.But go out of the hall and sit down outside,away from the slaughter in the courtyard, you and the famous bard,while I attend to what must be done in the house.”
So he spoke, and the two went out from the hall;and they both sat down at the great altar of Zeus,gazing about in all directions, ever expecting death.
And Odysseus gazed all about his own house, to see if any manwas still alive, hiding and trying to escape black doom.But he saw them all, lying in the blood and the dust,a great multitude, like fish that fishermenhave drawn out of the grey sea onto a hollow of the shorein a net of many meshes; and they all,longing for the waves of the sea, are heaped upon the sand,and the shining sun takes the life from them.So then the suitors were heaped one upon another.Then at last wily Odysseus spoke to Telemachus:
“Telemachus, come now and call for me the nurse Eurycleia,so that I may speak the word that is in my heart.”
So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father,and shaking the door he spoke to the nurse Eurycleia:
“Arise and come here, old woman of ancient birth, you who watch overthe serving women in our halls.Come; my father calls you, so he may tell you something.”
So he spoke, and his word to her was not winged, but fell,and she opened the doors of the well-appointed halland went on her way, while Telemachus led from the front.She found Odysseus among the slaughtered corpses,spattered with blood and gore, like a lionthat comes from having devoured an ox from the fields;and all his chest and his cheeks on either sideare bloody, a terrible sight to behold.So was Odysseus spattered, on his feet and his hands above.And when she saw the corpses and the untold gore,she was moved to raise a cry of triumph, seeing so great a deed.But Odysseus held her back and checked her eagerness,and speaking to her, he uttered these winged words:
“Rejoice in your heart, old woman, but hold back, and do not cry aloud;it is an unholy thing to exult over slain men.These men the fate of the gods has vanquished, and their own reckless deeds,for they honored no one among the men on this earth,neither the bad man nor the good, whoever might come to them.And so for their recklessness they have met a hideous fate.But come now, name for me the women in the halls,those who dishonor me and those who are blameless.”
And his dear nurse Eurycleia answered him in turn:“Then I will indeed, my child, tell you the truth.There are fifty women in your halls,serving women, whom we have taught to do their work,to card wool and to endure their servitude.Of these, twelve in all have taken the path of shamelessness,honoring neither me nor Penelope herself.Telemachus has only lately come into his strength, and his motherdid not allow him to give orders to the serving women.But come, let me go up to the shining upper chambersand tell your wife, upon whom some god has sent down sleep.”
And wily Odysseus said to her in reply:“Do not wake her yet; but tell the women to come here,all those who before now have devised wicked deeds.”
So he spoke, and the old woman went through the hallto deliver the message to the women and bid them to come.Then he called to his side Telemachus, and the cowherd and the swineherd,and gathering them, spoke these winged words:
“Begin now to carry out the bodies and command the women to help;and after that, the beautiful chairs and the tables,cleanse them with water and porous sponges.And when you have set the whole house in order,lead the serving women out of the well-built hall,to a place between the round-house and the fine wall of the courtyard,and strike them with long-bladed swords, until you havetaken the life from all of them and they have forgotten Aphrodite,whose pleasure they took under the suitors, consorting with them in secret.”
So he spoke, and the women all came in a group,wailing terribly and shedding torrents of tears.First they carried out the bodies of the dead,and set them down under the portico of the well-fenced courtyard,propping them one against the other; and Odysseus gave the orders,urging them on himself, and they carried them out under compulsion.And after that, the beautiful chairs and the tables,they cleansed with water and porous sponges.Then Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherdwith scrapers took to the floor of the well-made houseand scraped it, and the serving women carried the filth away and set it outside.But when they had set the great hall entirely in order,they led the serving women out of the well-built hallto a place between the round-house and the fine wall of the courtyard,and herded them into a narrow space, from which there was no escape.And the wise Telemachus was the first to speak among them:
“I would not take the lives of these women by a clean death,
these who have heaped reproaches upon my headand upon my mother, and who have slept beside the suitors.”
So he spoke, and taking the cable of a dark-prowed ship,he fastened it to a great pillar and coiled it around the round-house,stretching it high, so that none might touch the ground with her feet.And just as when long-winged thrushes or dovesfly into a snare that has been set in a thicket,as they seek their roost, and a hateful bed receives them,so the women held their heads in a row, and around alltheir necks were nooses, so that they might die most piteously.They twitched with their feet for a little, but not for very long.
Then they led Melanthius out through the porch and the courtyard;with the pitiless bronze they sliced off his nose and his ears,and they tore out his genitals, to be given raw to the dogs,and they chopped off his hands and feet in their furious anger.
Then, after washing their hands and their feet,they went into the house to Odysseus, and the work was finished.And he himself spoke to his dear nurse Eurycleia:
“Bring sulfur, old woman, a remedy for evils, and bring me fire,so that I may purify the hall. And you, bid Penelopeto come here with her attendant women;and bid all the serving women to come through the house.”
And his dear nurse Eurycleia answered him in turn:“Yes indeed, my child, you have spoken these things as is right.But come, let me bring you a cloak and a tunic for clothing,and do not stand so in the hall, with your broad shoulderscovered only in rags; that would bring you shame.”
But wily Odysseus said to her in reply:“Let fire first be made for me in the hall.”
So he spoke, and his dear nurse Eurycleia did not disobey,but brought fire and sulfur. And Odysseusthoroughly purified the hall and the house and the courtyard.
Then the old woman went back through the fine halls of Odysseusto deliver the message to the women and bid them to come;and they came from the hall, holding torches in their hands.They gathered around and embraced Odysseusand kissed him in welcome, on his head and his shoulders,and took his hands in theirs. And a sweet longing seized himfor weeping and for groaning, for he knew them all in his heart.