Book XXIII

LAUGHING for joy now hurried the nurse to the upper apartment,
Bringing her lady the news that Odysseus was there in his homestead.
Onward with tottering knees and with feet unsteady she stumbled,
Till, at the head of the sleeper arriving, she called to her mistress
"Wake, my belov'd! wake, Penelopeia my child! Thou shalt see now,
Yea with thine eyes thou shalt see, what every day thou hast longed for.
Come is Odysseus! — is here in his home, whence long he was vanished
Slain are all of the arrogant suitors who troubled his homestead,
Wasting the wealth of the house and treating his son with oppression."

Her forthwith gave answer the wise-souled Penelopeia

"Nay, dear mother, the gods have driven thee mad! An immortal

Ofttimes maketh a fool of the wise — yea, even the wisest
Ay and the one that is foolish he guides in the path of discretion.
Surely a god hath unbalanced thy mind that was steady aforetime.
Why dost thou mock me and add to the grief that is heavy within me,
Chattering thus so wildly and waking me out of my slumber
While so softly imprisoned it held me and shaded mine eyelids
Never I slept thus sound from the day that Odysseus departed
Sailing for Ilion, city of doom, name ne'er to be mentioned.
Go now, get thee away and return to the women's apartment
Verily were it another of all of the maids that attend me,
Bringing reports like these and waking me out of my slumber,
Rudely enough I had sent her away and had bid her betake her
Back to her chamber — but thou..! it is only thy age that protects thee."
Then once more made answer the dear nurse Eurycleia
"Nay, I am mocking thee not, dear child! I assure thee in earnest
Come is Odysseus and here is arrived at his home, as I told thee.
He was the stranger — the guest whom all at the banquet insulted.
Telemachus long since was aware that his father was present,
Yet with a manly discretion the plans of his sire he revealed not,
Waiting for vengeance to fall on the heads of the arrogant suitors."

Thus as the old nurse spake, in her gladness Penelopeia

Sprang from her couch and embraced her, and tears fell fast from her eyelids
Then she uplifted her voice and with swift-winged words she addressed her
"Come, dear mother, I beg thee to tell me and give me assurance,
Should he in sooth be arrived and be here in his home as thou sayest,

How was he able to lay strong hands on the insolent suitors,
I II Being alone, while ever they keep right many together?"
Then once more made answer the dear nurse Eurycleia

"Nothing I saw — knew nothing — and nothing I heard but a groaning

Made by the dying. We sat in the strong-built room in a corner
Frozen with fear, and the door close-fitting was shut of the chamber,
Till that I heard one calling me forth from the women's apartment,
Even thy son, prince Telemachus — for his father had sent him.
So to Odysseus I came, and I found him amidst of the slaughtered
Standing; and round him was covered the hard-stamped floor with the corpses
Lying the one on the other. I ween that thy soul had exulted
Hadst thou beheld him besmeared with the filth and the gore as a lion.
Now they're lying together, anigh to the gate of the courtyard,
All in a heap, and the master is fuming the palace with sulphur,
Setting aflame great braziers of coal; and he sent me to call thee.
Follow me now, that ye both in a heaven of happiness enter,
Where your hearts shall rejoice, forgetting their former afflictions.
Now is accomplished the thing that for long long years thou hast hoped for
Lo, he is come — he is here — he is safe in his home — and has found thee
Safe in his halls, and his son; while those who had wickedly wronged him,
Even the suitors.. he wreaked his revenge on them all in his palace."
Her then in answer addressed these words wise Penelopeia
"Nay, dear mother, refrain thee at present from vaunting and laughter
Well dost thou know how welcome he were to the whole of his household,
All of us, chiefly indeed to myself and the son that I bare him.
Yet — it is never and never the truth, this tale that thou tellest.
Nay, 'twas a god immortal that slaughtered the high-born suitors,
Wroth at their grievous and insolent pride and their infamous actions,
Seeing they treated alike all earth-born men with dishonour,
Good no less than the bad — yea every one who approached them
So for their folly and madness they suffered. But dead is Odysseus
Lost was his way to the land of Achaea, and lost was his life too."
Then did the dear old nurse make answer and thus she addressed her
"Nay but, my child, what word from the door of thy lips hath escaped thee,
While thou affirmst that thy lord, who is here at the hearth of his homestead,
Ne'er shall return! Ay, truly, thy heart was incredulous alway
Well, I will tell thee besides of a proof infallibly certain,
Even the wound which once by a boar's white tusk was inflicted.
This as I bathed him I spied — and I eagerly turned me towards thee
Wishing to speak; but he, laying his hand on my mouth to prevent it,

Would not permit me to utter a word, in his wisdom and foresight.

Nay, come, follow me now! I will venture my life on my tidings.

Should I deceive thee at all, by a death most pitiful slay me! "

Her once more gave answer the wise-souled Penelopeia
"Ah, dear mother, 'tis hard, how great soever thy wisdom,
Over the plans and the counsels to watch of the gods everlasting.
Well then, now let us go to my son. I am fain to behold them,
These dead men, these suitors — and him moreover that slew them."

Then from her room she descended, and deeply she pondered in spirit

Whether to hold her aloof from her lord and to test him with questions

Or to approach and embrace him and kiss him on hands and on forehead.
So, when at length she had entered the hall and had stept from the door-stone,
Fronting Odysseus she seated herself, in the light of a brazier,
Close to the opposite wall; and with eyes cast down he was sitting
Nigh to a pillar that rose to the roof; and he waited expectant,
Hoping his beautiful wife would speak, when she saw him before her.
Long while silent she sat, with her spirit amazed and bewildered
Now with her eyes fixed full on his face she was earnestly gazing,
Now she was doubting, beholding him clad in a beggarly raiment.
Then spake Telemachus and with words of reproach he addressed her
"Mother — and yet no mother of mine, for thy heart is unloving
Wherefore now dost thou hold thee aloof from my father, nor gladly
Seat thee beside him and bid him to speak and to answer thy questions
Ne'er was a wife like thee, with a heart thus hardened within her,
So as to turn from a husband who after unnumber'd afflictions
Came in the twentieth year to his home and the land of his fathers.
Thus it was ever.. for harder than stone is the heart in thy bosom!"
Him then in answer addressed these words wise Penelopeia
"Nay but, my child, have patience — for dead is the spirit within me
Neither to utter a word am I able, nor ask him a question,
Nay, nor to look in his face. If in truth it is he, as thou sayest,
Even Odysseus returned to his home, we can verily better
Learn it than thus, and be surer the one of the other; for we twain
Tokens possess that we kept to ourselves and hidden from others."
Hearing her words with a smile, long-suffering godlike Odysseus
Suddenly turned to his son, and with swift-winged words he addressed him
"Telemachus, now leave us alone in the hall, that thy mother

Test me; for thus she will soon be aware of the truth and confess it.
Now I am covered with filth and am clothed in a beggarly raiment,
So with dishonour she treats me and says I am never thy father.
Meanwhile, come, let us think how best we shall act in the future.
He that hath happened to slay one person alone in a people,
One who was able to leave not many behind to avenge him,
Flieth from kith and from kin and from native land as an exile
We.. 'twas the stay of the city we slew.. 'twas the best of the princes
Here in the Ithacan land. It is this that I bid thee consider."
Him sage Telemachus addressing in turn gave answer
"See to the matter thyself, dear father; for thine is the wisdom
Said to be greatest on earth, and with thee in the giving of counsel
None might hope to compete — no other of men that be mortal.
All of us others will eagerly follow thee. Ne'er shalt thou find us
Lacking in will to support thee, if only the power is present."
Him then in answer addressed these words deep-plotting Odysseus
"Well now, come, I will tell thee the plan that I hold to be wisest.
First then, all of you cleanse you with water and clothe you in doublets,
Also the maidens command to array them in festal apparel.
Then let the godlike bard with his lute's loud-echoing music
Give us the lead for the dance in a mirthful melodious measure,
So that it sound as a wedding to those outside of the palace,
Whether to folk that shall pass on the road, or to neighbours around us.
Thus no word shall be bruited abroad in the town that the suitors
Lie here slaughtered before we shall get us away to the country

Unto the farm in the midst of the forest; and there we can counsel

How to avail us of luck, if the Father Olympian grant it."

Thus did he speak, and they listened attent to his words and obeyed them.
Firstly they bathed them in water and cast fresh tunics around them
Also the women did on their attire; and the godlike minstrel,
Taking his hollow harp, in the depths of their bosoms excited
Yearning for sweet-voiced song and the peerless pleasure of dancing.
Then to the sound of their feet did the spacious mansion reecho,
While that the fair-zoned maidens and men were making them merry
Hearing the which spake many a one outside of the palace
"Sure, she is married at last, our lady of many a wooer
Pitiful creature, unable to wait for the love of her girlhood,
Faithfully keeping on guard at his palace until he arrived here!"
Thus spake many a one; but they knew not how it had happened.

Now great-hearted Odysseus was back in his home, and the house-dame

Eurynome brought water to bathe him and oil to anoint him,

Also apparel to clothe him withal, both mantle and tunic.
Over him then great beauty was shed by the goddess Athene
Taller and stronger she made him in aspect, and down from his head fell
Clustering thickly the locks of his hair as the flower hyacinthine.
Even as gold o'er silver is poured by an artist — a craftsman
Taught in his art by the god Hephaestus and Pallas Athene
Manifold skill, and of beauty is every work that he fashions,
Thus did she pour forth grace on the shoulders and head of Odysseus
So as he stept from the bath he was like an immortal in semblance.
Then he reseated himself on the chair from the which he had risen,
Placing himself in the front of his wife; and he spake to her, saying
"Nay, good lady, a heart more hard, more cruel, than thine is
Never a woman received from the gods who inhabit Olympus
Ne'er was a wife like thee, with a heart thus hardened within her,
So as to turn from a husband who after unnumber'd afflictions
Came in the twentieth year to his home and the land of his fathers.

Nurse, go strew me my bed! I will sleep by myself; I will forthwith

Lay me to rest — for the heart in her bosom is surely of iron,"

Him then in answer addressed these words wise Penelopeia
"Nay, good man, it is neither because I am proud or disdainful,
Nor am I dazed. Right well I recall thee (if thou be Odysseus)
Such as thou wert when from here in a long-oared vessel thou sailedst.
Go now, Eurycleia, and strew him the strong-made bedstead
Here outside of the room that he built for himself as his chamber.
Bring ye the bedstead forth; then lay soft bedding upon it
Cover it over with fleeces and wrappers and glistering blankets."

Thus did she speak as a test for her husband; and much was Odysseus
Angered thereat, and he turned to his own true wife and addressed her
"Verily, wife, this word thou hast spoken is grievously cruel.
Who hath removed it — the bed that I built? 'Twere difficult truly
E'en for a man right skilful, unless some deity helped him.
Though for a god 'twere easy to move it wherever he listed,
Never a mortal that liveth, not e'en in the prime of his manhood,
Out of its place could heave it with handspikes. Great is the secret
Touching that fine-wrought bed — for I made it myself and in private.
Once was a long-leaved olive that stood inside the enclosure,
Thriving and grown to the full; and its stem was as thick as a pillar.

Round it I built me a chamber and laboured until it was finished,
Will Making a structure of stones close-set; and I carefully roofed it
Also I gave it a door well-fitting and firmly compacted

Next from the long-leaved olive I lopped off all of the brushwood,
Whittled the bark of the stump right down to the root, and I planed it
Evenly, cutting it straight to the line with the skill of a master.
Then with an auger I bored it and fashioned it into a bed-post.
Thus I began, and I wrought me the bed, and, until it was finished,
Carved it, and richly with ivory, silver, and gold I adorned it.
Then to the frame hide thongs I attached bright-coloured with purple.
There now! Such is the secret I tell thee as token. I know not
Whether my bed stands still as it stood, O wife, or if long since
Some man moved it away, with the trunk cut off at the bottom."

Thus as he spake were loosened her knees and the heart in her bosom,

Since to herself she confessed that the token was sure that he gave her.

Bursting in tears, straightway to Odysseus she ran and embraced him,
Casting her arms on his neck and kissing his head and exclaiming
"Gaze not upon me in anger, Odysseus! In all thou hast shown thee
Wisest of men — and thou knowst that the gods have sent us affliction,
Jealous to see us abiding in happiness one with the other,
Joying in youth and hoping to reach eld's threshold together.
Wherefore now I beseech thee to feel not wroth and indignant
Only because, when I saw thee at first, not thus I embraced thee.
Ever and ever again hath my heart in the depths of my bosom
Shuddered with fear lest any with tales might haply deceive me,
One of the many that come with an evil and gainful intention.
Nay, e'en Argive Helen, the daughter of Zeus the Almighty,
Ne'er to a stranger had given her love and her tender embraces
Had she but known that again by the warlike sons of Achaea
Back to her home she was doomed to be brought and the land of her fathers.
True, to committing the shameless deed some deity urged her
True, she had never foreseen in her spirit the end of her folly,
End so fearful.. that first on ourselves brought mourning and sorrow.
Now.. I believe! for thou giv'st me a token unerring — the secret
Touching the bed — our bed — that was ne'er by a mortal beholden
Saving by thee and by me, and by one of my women attendants,
Actoris — one that my sire, when I came as a bride to thy palace,
Gave me — and ever the door of thy strong-built chamber she guarded.
Yea, I believe! thou hast conquered my heart, however unloving!"

Thus as she spake still more she excited his yearning for wailing.
Clasping his true sweet wife to his bosom he wept as he held her.
Welcome as sight of the land, when at last it appeareth to swimmers
Whose good ship, o'erwhelmed in the midst of the sea by Poseidon,
Drifts as a wreck and is tossed by the wind and the mountainous billows,
While some few, in the hope to escape from the grey salt water,
Swim for the land, and with brine are thickly encrusted their bodies,
Then on the shore right gladly they step, and they find them in safety,
Thus, when she saw him, she welcomed with gladness Odysseus her husband,
Nor from his neck for a moment her fair white arms did she loosen.
Yea, on their weeping had risen the morning, the roseate-fingered,
Save for the friendly device of the grey-eyed goddess Athene
Night in her outmost realm she delayed long-lingering; held back
Morning the golden-enthron'd at the stream of the Ocean, and bade her
Yoke not her swift-paced horses, the bringers to mortals of daylight,
Lampus and Phaethon, chariot-steeds of the goddess of morning.
Then at the last spake thus to his wife deep-plotting Odysseus
"Not at the end, O wife, do I deem us of every labour.
Much is remaining of toil, yea, measureless travail, and hardships
Many and great — all which I am destined to do and to suffer,
E'en as foretold me the spirit of Teiresias the diviner,
Yea, on the day I descended and entered the mansion of Hades,
Seeking to hear of a way of return for myself and my comrades.
Now come, wife, let us lay us abed — 'tis the season already
There to repose us and seek the delicious enjoyment of slumber."
Him forthwith gave answer the wise-souled Penelopeia
"Yea, most surely thy bed shall be ready whenever thy spirit
Longeth to rest, for at last by the will and the favour of heaven
Here to thy well-built home thou art come and the land of thy fathers.
Still — as thou spakest thereof and a deity stirr'd thy remembrance
Tell me, I pray, of the travail to come; for I ween I shall learn it
Later, and knowing it now were sure no greater misfortune."
Her then in answer addressed these words deep-plotting Odysseus
"Nay, good lady, but why thus all impatiently urge me,
Bidding me speak? Well, come, I will tell thee, nor try to conceal it.
Verily little thy soul will rejoice; yea also myself too
Little am joyed, for to many a city of mortals he bade me
Wander again from my home, with a well-shaped oar on my shoulder,

Till to a people I come which never hath heard of the ocean,

Yea to a people that mix no salt with the food that they live on
Neither hath any a ship, with the cheeks red-painted, beholden,

Neither hath knowledge of oars which serve as the wings of a vessel.
Also he gave me a sign most certain — the which I will tell thee.
Whensoever it haps that a chance wayfarer that meets me
Saith 'tis a winnowing fan that I bear on my glistering shoulder,
Fixing the oar in the ground I shall leave it — for thus he commanded.
Then to Poseidon the king I shall offer a goodly oblation,
Even a male of the swine and a male of the herd and the sheepfold,
Then turn homeward again, and many an offering holy
Slay to the deathless gods who inhabit the infinite heaven,
Each one after the other. At last shall a death from the ocean,
Such as of deaths is the mildest, befall me and gently remove me,
Weary and worn, in a smooth old age; and around me my people
Happy shall live. All this he foretold would have a fulfilment."
Him forthwith gave answer the wise-souled Penelopeia
"Should but the gods vouchsafe to thy life such happier ending,
Surely they grant thee a hope to escape at the last from affliction."

Thus in the hall these twain held converse one with the other.

Meantime Eurynome and the nurse made ready the bedstead,

Laying thereon soft wraps, by the light of the radiant torches.
Then, when the strong-built bed was prepared and the labour was ended,
Back to her room went Eurycleia to lay her to slumber,
While that the other, the maiden attendant who guarded the chamber,
Guided the way for her lord and her mistress, holding a pine-torch
Unto the chamber she led them and then she returned; and with gladness

These two came once more to the rites of the bed as aforetime.

Soon now Telemachus and the cowherd and also the swineherd
Stayed their feet from the dance, and bidding the women to cease too
Laid them to rest for the night in the shadowy hall of the palace.

Now when the twain had delighted in love and its tender endearments,
Then to the pleasure of talking they turned, and all they recounted.
First by the fairest of women was told what woes she had suffered,
Forced to behold in the palace the ruinous horde of the suitors
Coming to woo her and slaying the fat-fed sheep and the oxen,
Many and many a head, and emptying many a wine-cask.
Next did Odysseus descended from Zeus tell all of the sorrows
Brought on his foes, and how he had toiled and had suffered afflictions

All he related; and hearing it greatly she joyed, nor did slumber

Fall on her eyelids before he had finished the whole of the story.

Firstly he told how landing he sacked the Ciconian city,
Then to the rich -soiled land of the Eaters of Lotus was wafted.
Next of the deeds of the Cyclops he spake, and how he avenged him,
Blinding the pitiless monster for eating his valiant comrades.
Then how Aeolus' island he reached, and was kindly entreated,
Yea and was helped to return to his well-loved home, but to reach it
Yet was forbidden by Fate, and suddenly seized by a tempest,
Grievously groaning, again he was borne to the home of the fishes.
Then how Telepylus of the Laestrygonian people
Next he had reached — where perished his well-greaved mates and his vessels,
One of them only escaping, the black-hulled ship of Odysseus.
Also he told of the infinite guile and the magic of Circe.
Then how, seeking to visit the mouldering mansion of Hades,
There to consult with the spirit of Teiresias the diviner,
Over the ocean he sailed in his well-manned ship, and beheld there
All of his comrades of old, and the mother that bore him and reared him.
Then how maddened he listed the sweet-voiced song of the Sirens
Then of the Wandering Rocks he related and dreadful Charybdis,
Yea and of Scylla, from whom unscathed none ever escapeth.
Then how, after the kine of the Sun were slain by his comrades,
Struck by the sulphurous bolt of the Father who speaketh in thunder
Perished his swift-winged ship and perished his trusty companions,
All of them — all but himself; and alone he escaped from destruction.
Then to the isle Ogygian come and the goddess Calypso,
How he was held by the nymph, in her yearning to make him her husband,
Long in her hollow caves; and she cherished him kindly and promised
Even to make him immortal and ageless for ever and ever
Still did she never persuade him nor soften the heart in his bosom.
Then to the folk Phaeacian come through many a peril,
How he was kindly received and was honoured like an immortal,
Yea and was sent on a ship to the well-loved land of his fathers
Laden with many a treasure of bronze and of gold and of raiment.
This was the last he related before sweet slumber o'ercame him,

Slumber that loosens the limbs and loosens the cares of the spirit.

Then by the friendly device of the grey-eyed goddess Athene
(After she knew it for sure in the depths of her heart that Odysseus
Now had delighted in love and in sleep to his soul's satisfaction)
Out of the Ocean the early-arising, the golden-enthroned

Goddess appeared who bringeth to mortals the day; and the hero
Rose from his soft-strewn bed, and he spake to his wife and enjoined her

Both of us — thou with thy sorrow unending because I returned not
Weeping at home, while Zeus and the other immortals had bound me
Fast in misfortune, despite of my longings, afar from my homeland.
Now, since heaven hath brought us again to the raptures of wedlock,
See thou attend as of old to the wealth we possess in the palace
While, for the sheep and the cattle consumed by the arrogant suitors,
Many another as spoil I shall capture, and others the chieftains
Freely will give, till full once more are all of my farmyards.
Natheless, now I shall go to my farm in the midst of the forest.
There I shall visit my dear good father, who endlessly mourns me.
Touching thyself.. thou art prudent and wise.. but I tell thee my wishes
Swiftly will spread a report, so soon as the sun is arisen,
Telling the fate of the men — these suitors I slew in the palace.
Wherefore unto thy chamber ascend with thy maiden attendants.
There keep seated, nor show thee to any that pass, and address none."

Thus as he spake on his shoulders he buckled his beautiful armour.
Then he awakened his son and the cowherd and also the swineherd,
Bidding them each lay hand on a weapon of war to defend them.
Nor did they fail to obey, and they fully equipped them in harness.
Then they unbolted a door and they ventured them forth, and Odysseus
Led them. Already was light on the earth, but the goddess Athene
Hid them in night, and she swiftly conducted them out of the city.