Book XI

So when adown we were gotten to the ship's side and the shore,
Then into the holy salt-sea we thrust her down once more,
And in the black ship hoisted the sail upon the mast.
And the sheep we gat aboard her, and aboard we also passed
Sore sorrowing, pouring the tear-drops swift-following each on each.
But the fair-haired Circe beworshipped, the Goddess of the speech,
For us had thought behind us and our black-prowed ship to send
The following breeze sail-filling, a goodly faring-friend.

"So we, when all the tackling about the ship we had dight,
Sat still, while wind and rudder bore on the keel aright,
And the sails of our seafarer were filled with the wind all day:
But now the sun sank under and dusk on all roads lay,
And at last unto the utmost of deep Ocean-stream we came,
Where is the folk Cimmerian and the city of their name,
By the mist and the cloud-rack covered, and never on a day
On them doth the sun bright-shining look down with his many a ray;
Nay, not when the starry heaven he climbeth aloft, nor when
From the heavens again he turneth to the Earth and the lands of men,
But over those men unhappy hangs night for ever dead.
"There then our ship did we beach, and the sheep therefrom we led,
And along the shores of Ocean ourselves the way did we hold,
Till we came to the land and the country whereof had Circe told,
Then the beasts Perimedes held and Eurylochus thereto;
But for me the sword sharp-grinded from beside my thigh I drew,
And thereby a pit I dug me, a cubit endlong and o'er,
And drink-offerings round about it to all the dead did I pour:
The first of mingled honey, of sweet wine the second one,
And the third of very water, and white meal I sprinkled thereon;
And many things was I praying to the heads of the mightless dead.
And I vowed that to Ithaca coming I would slay in the halls of my stead
A barren heifer most goodly, and heaped wealth on the fire would lay;
But unto the seer Tiresias alone and apart would I slay
A sheep all black, of my sheep-flocks the flower and fairest head.
But when with vows and beseeching I had worshipped the folks of the dead
We took the sheep thereafter, and cut their throats o'er the pit,
And the black blood flowed thereinto: then they gathered unto it;
All the ghosts of the dead departed from the Nether Dusk 'gan fare.
And brides there were and younglings, and burdened elders there,
And there were tender maidens still bearing newborn woe,
And many a man death-smitten by the brazen spear did go,
The very prey of Ares, yet clad in blood-stained gear;
And all the throng kept flitting round the pit from here and there
With strange and awful crying, till pale fear fell on me.
So therewith I bade my fellows, and urged them eagerly
That the sheep that lay there slaughtered by the pitiless brass they should flay,
And make them a burnt offering, and so to the Gods to pray;
Unto Hades the almighty and the dread Persephone.
But for me the whetted sword I drew from the thigh of me,
And sat to refrain the heads of the dead men lacking might
From drawing anigh to the blood-pit ere Tiresias came in sight.

"But the first that drew anigh me was our friend Elpenor's shade,
For as yet he was not buried beneath the Earth wide-wayed;
We had left his body unburied, unwept, in Circe's hall,
Since other need and labour on our fellowship did fall.
So I wept when I beheld him and was sorry for his sake,
And I sent my voice unto him and a winged word I spake:

"' How earnest thou, Elpenor, beneath the dusk and the dark?
And swifter afoot hast thou wended than I in my coal-black bark.'
"I spake; but he midst groaning thus answered me the word:
'O Zeus-bred son of Laertes, Odysseus wise-heart lord,
God's doom and wine unstinted on me the bane hath brought.
I lay on the house of Circe, and waking had no thought
To get me aback and adown by the way of the ladders tall:
But downright from the roof I tumbled, and brake my neck withal
From the backbone, and unto Hades and his house my soul must fare.
But I pray thee, by those whom we left and are no longer here,
By thy wife, by thy father who bred thee when thou wert but a little one,
Yea, by Telemachus also, whom thou left'st in thine house alone,
Whereas I know that, going from Hades' House in a while,
Thou wilt stay thy ship the well-wrought at that Ææan isle;
There then, O King, I pray thee, have me, e'en me, in mind,
Nor go home, and all unburied, unwept, leave me behind,
Lest the anger of the Godfolk for thee I come to breed.
But I pray thee there to burn me in all my battle-weed,
And on the sea-side hoary to heap the howe for me,
A token of me the hapless to those who yet shall be.
All this for me accomplish, and set up mine oar on the howe,
Wherewith when I lived with my fellows I once was wont to row.'
"So he said, and thereto I answered and unto him I spake:
'Yea, all these things, O luckless, will I compass for thy sake.' So

"But yet while there we were sitting and holding woeful speech,
Still all the while o'er the blood-pit my sword-point must I reach,
While the image of my fellow spake on from the other side.

"Then came the soul of my mother that awhile agone had died,
Anticleia, erst the daughter of Autolycus high of heart,
Whom I left behind yet living when to Troy I did depart.
And now I beheld her weeping in the pity of my mood,
And yet must I refrain her from drawing near the blood,
For all my thronging sorrow, till Tiresias I should see.
But at last came the soul of the Theban Tiresias, and he
Held the golden staff; and he knew me, and thus his speech did speed:

"' O Zeus-bred son of Laertes, Odysseus of many a rede,
Why comest thou, unlucky, from the light of the very sun,
To look on the joyless country and the dead men all undone?
Now draw away from the blood-pit and hold off thy whetted sword
That I of the blood having drunken may tell thee a soothfast word.'

"So he spake, and the silver-adorned sharp sword I drew aback
And thrust it into the scabbard, and he drank of the blood-pit black;
And when he had drunken, forthright to me spake the blameless seer:

"O famed Odysseus, thou askest of thine home-fare sweet and dear;
Yet the Gods shall make it troublous: for I deem that it shall not be
That thou may'st shun Earth-shaker, who hath stored up wrath for thee,
Because his son beloved thou didst blind a while ago.
Yet home shalt thou come in the ending, though worn with the weight of
If thou wilt refrain the desire of thee and thy company
When down in thy ship well-fashioned at last thou drawest anigh thy woe,
Unto the Three-horned Island, as ye flit o'er the darkling deep,
And find the neat a-feeding and flocks of the fatted sheep
Of the Sun that beholdeth all things, and every deed doth hear.
If then of your home ye are mindful and leave them scatheless there,
Then, then despite of troubles, your Ithaca yet shall ye gain;
But and if in aught ye scathe them, I foretell the utter bane
Of thy ship and all thy fellows, and if thou the death dost shun,
Late and evil shall be thy homefare, thy fellowship all gone,
On the keel of an outland people; and in thine house nought good
Shalt thou find, but men o'erweening eating up thy livelihood,
Wooing thy wife the godlike and proffering the gifts of the bride,
Well, there shalt thou come and shalt wreak thee of their mastery and their pride.
And when the bane of the Wooers in thine halls thou hast brought to pass,
Whether by wiles, or in face of the day with the whetted brass,
Then go thy ways, and bearing thy shapen oar with thee
Fare forth till thou com'st to a folk that wot not of the sea,
And blend no salt with their victuals, nor thereof ever seek;
And nothing are they knowing of the ships of the crimson cheek,
Or of the oars well-fashioned, the very wings of the ship.
And hereof a manifest token, which thy heed shall never slip:
When on thy way thou meetest another wayfaring man,
Who saith that thy noble shoulder is bearing a winnowing fan,
There then the oar that thou bearest set steadfast in the earth,
And to King Poseidon hallow fair gifts and great of worth,
A ram and a bull to wit, and a boar the mate of the sow;
Then home do thou wend, and the gifts an hundredfold do thou
Unto the Gods undying of the widespread heavenly home,
And all in the utmost order. Then thy death from the sea shall come
Exceeding mild and gentle, and thereby shalt thou fade out
By eld smooth-creeping wasted; and the people round about
Shall be grown all blithe and happy: lo, a soothfast word have I said.'
"So he spake; but I spake unto him, and this answer thereto made:
'Tiresias, this is the doom that the very Gods have spun:
But tell me now of a matter, speak clearly thereupon;
I behold the soul of my mother, this one departed and dead,
Who in silence sits by the blood-pit, and dares not for her dread
To look on the face of her son, or a word to him to say:
O King, how then may she know me for the man I am today?'
"So I spake, but in turn he bespake me and this answer did he speed:
'Yea, lightly the word will I tell thee, and teach thy mind a rede:
Whichever of these departed thou shalt suffer to draw anigh
And taste of the blood, shall tell thee all things in verity;
But back again must he get him to whom thou grudgest the thing.'
"And therewithal the spirit of Tiresias the King
Went into the House of Hades, having told foretelling true.
But there I abided steadfast till anigh my mother drew
And drank the black blood of the blood-pit; then she knew my face,
And amidst of lamentation these winged words 'gan say:

"' O child, how earnest thou living to the shadowy land of night? straightway,
For 'tis hard for living people of such things to have a sight;
For amidst are mighty rivers and fearful floods are there,
And first the stream of Ocean, o'er which afoot none fare,
None save in a ship well-fashioned to flit him o'er the tide.

And dost thou hie thee hither from Troy-town wandering wide,
A long while, with thy ships and thy fellows? Or in Ithaca hast thou been?
And in the halls of thine homestead thy wife hast thou not seen?'

"She spake the word, and straightway this answer did I speed:
'To the House of Hades, O mother, am I driven by my need
To seek of the ghost of the Theban Tiresias the seer;
For that Achæan country I have not drawn anear,
Nor set foot on the land that is mine; but have wandered wide with my woe
Since first with Agamemnon the holy did I go
Unto Ilios the horseland 'gainst the men of Troy to fight.
But give me a word of one thing, and tell me the tale aright,
What doom of Death o'ercame thee that layeth men along?
Was it the lingering sickness, or did Artemis shaft-strong
Fall on thee for thy slaying with her gentle bolts and kind?
Yea, tell me too of my father, and the son I left behind.
Bides my lordship yet amongst them, or hath some man taken it o'er,
Some alien? Are they saying that I return no more?
And I bid thee tell me the counsel and the mind of my wife bewooed;
Bides she still with my child, and steadfast yet guardeth all my good?
Or her doth some Achæan, the best of the people, wed?'
"So I spake, and thereto my mother beworshipped answered and said:

"Yea, surely she abideth, and a hardy heart doth bear
Within the halls of thine homestead; but all nights doth she wear
In grief and in lamentation, and through all days doth pine.
Nay, no man holdeth thine honour, but on those fields of thine
In peace Telemachus dwelleth, and meted feasts doth he share,
Whereof it is due that a man, a dealer of dooms, should have care,
For thereto do all men bid him. But afield doth thy father abide

Nor ever wendeth him townward, nor hath he any tide
Bedstead and bedding and blankets or rugs wrought fine and sleek.
But a-winter he sleeps in the feast-hall whereto the thrall-folk seek,
Adown in the ash by the fire, and in sorry raiment is clad;
But when the summer cometh with harvest rich and glad,
Then about his vineyard's fatness where the mother of wine doth abound,
And down on the leaves new-fallen, are his beds spread out on the ground.
And there in sorrow he lieth and eketh his heart-grief sore,
In his longings for thy homefare, and eld hath him more and more.
And in such wise I too perished, and e'en so to mine end I came.
For neither on me in the homestead fell the Shaft-glad Eager-of-aim,
Nor with her kindly arrows my body did she slay;
Nor came the sickness upon me to drive the soul away
From the limbs that erst it quickened, with woeful waste and pine;
But the longing for thee, Odysseus, and those glorious redes of thine,
And the longing for thy kindness reft the sweet life from me.'
"She spake, and my mind clung round it and longed that it might be
That I might take in my arms that soul of my mother dead;
And thrice did I essay it, and my heart my longing sped,
And thrice from my arms as a shadow or a very dream did she flit,
And waxed the biting sorrow in my heart because of it;
And therewith my voice I uttered and a winged word I spake:

'"Why bidest thou not, my mother, when thee I fain would take,
That with dear arms laid on each other, e'en here in Hades' Hold,
We twain might have fill of sorrow and lamentation cold?
Doth Persephone the mighty thrust on some image here,
That with yet heavier mourning my life-days I may wear?'

"So spake I; but my mother thus spake and answered again:
"'O me, my child, my darling, most hapless man of men,
Persephone, daughter of Zeus, beguileth thee nought hereby,
But this is the lot of mortals when at last they come to die;
For no longer then the sinews hold together flesh and bone,
But they by the might of the fare bright-flaming are undone,
When first from the white bones wendeth the soul and the living breath,
And the soul as a dream forth flieth and flitting hovereth.
But thou, get thee back at thy swiftest to the light; but note thou well
All this, that thereof hereafter the tale to thy wife thou may'st tell.'
"But as we spake and answered came a throng of women there,
Whom Persephone the mighty had bidden forth to fare;
E'en such as were wives and daughters of mighty men and strong,
And about the dark-red blood-pit there gathered they their throng.
So therewith I fell to thinking how of each I might have the tale;
And this seemed to me the counsel that was of most avail,
To draw my edgy long-sword from beside my sturdy thigh
And refrain them from drinking the blood all in one company,
But in turn should each be drinking, and in turn should each one fall
To tell of her race and her kindred; for so should I hear of all.
"And so first I looked on Tyro, and well-begotten was she,
For of Salmoneus the blameless she boasted her to be;
And withal the wife of Cretheus, who was Æolus' own son.
Now Enipeus the holy river she had set her heart upon,
The fairest of all waters adown the Earth that flow,
And along by his streams most lovely the maid was wont to go.
But the Girdle of Earth, the Earth-shaker, beheld her on a day
And with her by the mouth of the river and its eddying streams he lay,
While the dark-blue wave stood around them allied over mountains high,
And hid the God and the Woman whereas the twain did lie.

But he loosed her maiden girdle and sleep on her did speed.
But when the God had fulfilled it, and done the lovesome deed,
Then he took her hand in his hand and spake and named her out:
'Rejoice in my love, O woman! When the year hath come about
Two noble sons shalt thou bear, for indeed the deathless lie
In no fruitless beds: so my seed shalt thou cherish heedfully.

Go now to thine house, and forbear thee and say no word of the thing,
For, behold, I am Poseidon, the Earth-shaker, the King.'

"Then under the wavy deep he dived adown once more.
But she conceived, and Neleus and Pelias she bore,
And stout servants of Zeus the mighty grew up those brothers twain.
And Pelias dwelt sheep-wealthy in Iolchos' spreading plain,
But Neleus abode in Pylos that is sandy evermore.
But children gotten by Cretheus that Queen of women bore
to wit, and Pheres, and Amythaon of the car.

"Next came Asopus' daughter, Antiope from afar,
Who boasted her that one while in the arms of Zeus she had lain,
And Amphion thence and Zethus had born, his children twain;
Who first built up and settled Thebes of the gates sevenfold,
And did it about with towers, since not e'en they might hold
The wide Thebes bare and towerless, though strong were they in strife.
"There too I saw Alcmene, who had been Amphitryon's wife,
Who Heracles the hardy, the lion-heart, did bear;
For she lay in the arms of Zeus, and in love was mingled there.
And of Megara, daughter of Creon the high-souled, had I sight,
Whom the son of Amphitryon wedded, the ever unmarred of his might
"And I saw there Œdipus' mother, night Epicaste the fair,

E'en she that with mind unwitting did a dreadful deed and drear;
For she wedded her son; and he, when his father he had slain,
Did wed her; and unto manfolk all this did the Gods make plain.
He then his sorrows bearing in Thebes' most lovely home
Ruled over the Cadmeans by the dread Gods' awful doom;
But she went to the House of Hades, strong warden of the gate:
Having fastened a dizzy neck-noose to a beam high up and great,
There she in her sorrow was holden: but for him she left indeed
All woes that a mother's wreakers to dreadful end may speed.

"And Chloris I saw most lovely, whom Neleus on a day
Must wed for her very beauty, and boundless gifts must pay;
And she was the youngest daughter of Amphion, Iasus' son,
Who o'er Minyan Orchomenos by might the lordship won;
And she was Queen in Pylos and bore a noble race,
As Cromius and Nestor, and Periclymenus great of grace,
And thereto the glorious Pero, the wonder of all that live,
Whom all men around were wooing. Her Neleus would not give
Save to him who the shambling bulls broad-faced of Iphicles
Should drive from Phylace's garth; and hard to drive were these.
But one man pledged him to drive them, the blameless seer was he;
But the doom of the deathless Gods it bound him bitterly,
And hard bonds bound him withal, and the wasteland neatherds bound.
But when done at last were the months of the year that runneth around,
And all the days were fulfilled and the seasons came about,
Then Iphicles the mighty loosed him to tell them out,
Those Dooms of his foretelling, and the rede of Zeus was done.
"And fair Leda there I beheld, the wife that Tyndareus won,
And to Tyndareus the strong-souled two children did she bear:
Polydeuces good at the fist-play and the horse-lord Castor they were.

They living, by Earth are covered, that quickeneth everything,
Yet 'neath the earth in all honour are they holden by Zeus the King.
But the day of their living shifteth and they live and die in turn,
But all days all honour and worship e'en like to the Gods they earn.

"Then saw I Iphimedeia, Aloëus wife was she;
And she said she had lain and mingled with Poseidon of the sea,
And bore two men; but for life-days o'er short on Earth they came;
E'en Otus the great, and godlike Ephialtes wide of fame:
But those twain were the biggest bodies that the corn-kind Earth hath bred,
And the fairest of all men, saving Orion's goodlihead;
For when nine years they were waxen, nine cubits length outright
Was the measure of their bigness, and nine fathoms was their height,
And the very Gods undying they threatened at the last
That the din of headstrong battle midst Olympus they would cast;
And Ossa on Olympus, and on Ossa Pelion's head
Leaf-shaking would they tumble, to climb up the heavenly stead.
Had they reached their manhood's measure no lesser had they done.
But the Child of Zeus, he slew them, the fair-haired Leto's Son,
Ere yet upon their faces the cheek-down blossomed fair,
Ere their cheeks were covered over with the flower-tide of hair.

"Phaedra I saw, and Procris, and Ariadne the May,
The daughter of Minos the wise, whom Theseus bore away
From the isle of Crete to the acres of Athens' holy land.
But of her he had no joyance, for she died by Artemis' hand
In Dia the sea-begirdled, for the tale Dionysus had nursed.

"There were Maera and Clymene there, and Eriphyle accursed,
Who took a price for her husband, and gat the treasured gold.

"But of all I cannot be telling, nor by me may the names be told
Of the many wives of the heroes and their daughters that I saw,
Ere the deathless night be waning. And now anigh doth it draw
To the sleep-tide; whether I wend me to the ship and my fellows there
Or here I sleep. But ye people and the Gods of my speeding shall care."

He spake, but they held their peace and kept silence one and all,
For the tale's enchantment held them throughout the shadowy hall
But to them white-armed Arete took up the word and spake:

"How deem ye, O Phæacians, of this man and of his make,
Of the bigness of his body, and his mind like-wrought within?
My guest he is, and yet honour of him doth each man win.
Then haste not his departure, and no stinting let there be
To such a man, so needy; for plenteous wealth have we
That lieth by Gods' kindness in many a house and stead."
Then Echineus the hero, the elder, spake and said,
E'en he who was born the oldest of all Phæacian men:
"O friends, our Queen the prudent that word she speeded then
Not far from the mark of our minds: so hearken ye and heed.
But hereof unto Alcinoüs belongeth the word and the deed."
But therewith to him Alcinoüs his answer thus did give:
"Yea, thus indeed shall the word go, if yet a king alive
I rule o'er the folk Phæacian, and the men that love the oar.
Let the guest awhile be abiding, though he long for his homefare sore,
To tarry at least for the morrow, that the gift I may fulfill.
And verily of thy speeding shall all men heed them still;
And I above all: for of me mid the folk is the kingship and might"

Then therewith Odysseus the wily thus answering spake outright:
"O Lord and King Alcinoüs, of all the folk most dear,
And if thou would'st bid me to tarry for yet another year
While my homefare ye were speeding with gifts of price for me,
Thereto would I be consenting; and more gainful would it be
That I came to the land of my fathers, and I with the fuller hand.
For before all men more awful, and better beloved should I stand,
E'en they who beheld me returning to the Ithacan isle and my stead."

So therewithal amidst them Alcinoüs spake and said:
"Odysseus, nought do we deem thee, as we behold thee there,
To be a cheat and a thief, for as many as such men fare
All wide about in the world, on the black earth pasturing,
And lie unto lie still piecing, till none may see through the thing.
But thy words are fair and fashioned, and thy mind is good and strong,
And as one well learned thou tellest, in the manner of a song,
The weary woe of the Argives, and the woeful toil of thee.
But come now, tell me of one thing, and tell it openly,
If thou sawest there thy fellows the godlike and the great,
Who with thee to Ilios wended, and by Troy town met their fate.
For long is unspeakable night-tide, nor yet doth the hour need
That we get us to sleep in the feast-hall; so tell on of the wondrous deed,
For I would abide the morning, the holy, might'st thou bear
In this hall of thy woes to be telling, and the toil that thee did wear."
But now the wily Odysseus thereunto answered and said:
"O Lord and King Alcinoüs, the people's foremost head,
Time is for words abundant, and time for sleep maybe;
But if thou art fain of hearkening I would not grudge it thee
To tell thee yet of tidings more grievous than this tale;
Yea, the woe of those my fellows who fell beneath the bale,
E'en they who escaped the Trojans and the cry of the battle strife,
But died in their returning through the lust of an evil wife.

"When Persephone the holy had scattered through the place,
All wide about on each side, those souls of the woman's race,
There came a soul sore grieving, Agamemnon, Atreus' son;
And about him were there gathered all those that death had won
Within the house of Ægistheus and met their doom in the hall.

"So when the black blood he had drunken he knew me therewithal,
And he fell to wailing shrilly, and plenteous tears 'gan pour,
And stretched his hand out toward me, for he longed to reach me sore;
But gone was his strength the steadfast, and his might was faded out
That once was so abounding in his limbs the lithe and stout.
Then my soul was sorry for him, and I gazed on him with tears,
And therewith I bespake him and winged a word for his ears:
"' Most glorious son of Atreus, Agamemnon king of men,
What doom of death man-strewing hath overcome thee then?
And was it that Poseidon in thy ships did thee undo
With the wind-drift stirred against thee, and the whirl-blast laden with woe?
Or was it the bale of the foemen on the firm land on a day
As their neat and the lovely flocks of their sheep thou wert driving away?
Or warredst thou for a city and the women of a stead?'

"So I spake, and thereon straightway he answered me and said:
'O many-wiled Odysseus, Zeus-bred Laertes' son,
Nought by the King Poseidon in my ships was I undone,
By the stir of the furious winds and the woe-beladen gale;
Nor did the folk of the foemen on the dry land bear me bale,
But rather it was Ægistheus, with my evil wife to aid,

That death and doom devised me. For me to his house he bade,
And there at the feast he slew me, as ye slaughter an ox in the stall,
And I died by a death most piteous; and my fellows one and all
They slew there without pity, as the swine, the tusked white,
They slay in the house of the wealthy, the man of exceeding might,
It may be at the glorious banquet, or the wedding, or the gild.
Now the slaughter of many a man hast thou happed on, who were spilled
Where man the man withstandeth, or in battle stark and strong;
Yet this hadst thou most lamented, the murder and the wrong.
For there about the wine-bowls and the tables full of food
We lay in the hall together, and all the floor ran blood.
And most piteous, close beside me I heard Cassandra's wail,
The daughter of King Priam, slain by that forge of bale,
Clytemnestra; then from the earth my dying hands did I raise
And cast them about my sword hilt. But the shameless went on her ways,
Nor had she the heart, as I wended adown to Hades' House,
To shut mine eyes with her fingers, or the mouth for me to close.
— Nought more shameless or more fearful than a woman may ye find
When she at last conceiveth such deeds within her mind.
E'en such a deed so unseemly as she imagined for me,
To murder her wedded husband! And I deemed it was to be,
That with welcome of my children and my house-thralls I should win
The way unto my homestead. But she, well-learned in sin,
Hath cast shame upon all women that are upon the earth,
And all to come hereafter, yea e'en on those of worth.'

"He spake; and thus I answered, and thus I fell to speak:
'Woe's me! how Zeus farseeing doth wondrous evil wreak
Upon the House of Atreus, and all for woman's will,
Yea from of old! how many for Helen death did spill!
And for thee, lo Clytemnestra, and the snare for the far away I'

"So I spake; but straight he answered, and suchlike words did say:
'So now with thy wife I bid thee, be not too gentle now;
Nor yet the uttermost tell her of the thing that thou dost know,
But somewhat shalt thou tell her, and somewhat hide withal;
Yet not from thy wife, Odysseus, shall murder on thee fall.
For in exceeding prudence and heart-wisdom learned is she,
The daughter of Icarius, all-wise Penelope.
We left her not long wedded when we went away to the war,
And her child a speechless infant on her breast as yet she bore,
Who happy belike now sitteth amid men when their number is told.
And I deem that his father beloved shall come, and his face shall behold,
And he shall embrace his father as is but meet and right.
But me my bedfellow hindered that my eyes should be full of the sight
Of my son: for ere I beheld him my very self did she slay.
But this one thing will I tell thee, which unto thy breast do thou lay,
Thy ship do thou bring unto land by stealth and nought openly;
For now from henceforth in women no troth or trust shall be.
But come now and tell me of this, and let thine answer be clear,
If of my son yet living on earth ye chance to hear,
In Orchomenos it may be, or in Pylos of the sand,
Or in Menelaiis' dwelling in Sparta's wide-spread land?
For indeed the noble Orestes from the earth not yet hath died.'

"So he spake; but I spake unto him and answered on my side:
'Why ask ye of this, Atreides? thereof I have no skill,
Whether he liveth or dieth, and windy words are ill'

"But while thus giving and taking in woeful words we stood,
And poured down plenteous teardrops in the sorrow of our mood,
Drew near the ghost of Achilles, the son of Peleus of old,
And therewith the soul of Patroclus, and Antilochus the bold,

And Ajax, who of his body was the best and fairest one
Of all the Danaan menfolk, save the glorious Peleus' son.
Straight then the spirit knew me of the swift-foot Æacus' seed,
And amidst of lamentation this winged word did he speed:
"' O many-wiled Odysseus, Zeus-bred Laertes' son!
O rash man! why hast thou thought on deeds more than all yet done,
And hast dared to come to Hades where dwell the witless dead,
The images of menfolk whom Death from Earth hath sped?'
"So he spake; but him I answered and thuswise spake again:
'Achilles, son of Peleus, far best of Achæan men,
I came for Tiresias' counsel; if he had aught to say
How to Ithaca the craggy I yet might win my way.
For not yet the land Achæan have I made, nor yet as now
Have set foot on my land; but ever am ill-sped. Nay, but thou
Wert aforetime far the happiest of men, and yet shall be;
For e'en as the Gods in thy lifedays we Argives honoured thee;
And here in thy might abiding of the dead men art thou King.
Be not woe of thy death, Achilles, nor make sorrow for the thing.'
"So I spake: but a word he uttered, and thuswise answered he:
'And thou, O famed Odysseus, belittle not Death to me.
Well were I on earth's acres e'en to serve beneath the hand
Of some man of little living and lacking share of land,
Rather than here to lord it o'er all the dead outworn.
But come now, what word hither of my fair son hast thou borne,
Whether the war he followed as a chief, or did it not?
And tell me if some tidings of great Peleus thou hast got:
If yet mid the Myrmidon cities he holdeth honour still;
Or if through Hellas and Pthia all men his honour spill,
Because in bonds eld holdeth his hands and his feet foredone;
For no more am I his helper beneath the beams of the sun,
E'en such as I was aforetime when erst in Troy the wide
I slew the best of the people and held the Argive side;
Might I come to my father's dwelling for a while, and I e'en such!
Ah, then what a woe were my might and my hands that none dare touch
To those who lay wrong upon him and perforce his honour refrain!'
"So he spake; but I spake unto him and thuswise answered again:
'Forsooth of Peleus the blameless no tidings may I tell,
Whereas of Neoptolemus, thy son beloved well,
All true tidings may I tell thee, e'en as thou biddest it.
For he in my trim ship's hollow in time agone did sit,
When him from out of Scyros to the well-greaved host I brought.
Forsooth when by Troy's city of any rede we thought
The first was he to be speaking, nor went his word awry,
And no man there outwent him save Nestor the godlike and I.
But when in the plain of the Trojans with point and edge we played,
Then nought mid the medley of men and amidst of the throng was he stayed,
But far before all was he running and yielded to none in his might.
And he slew of men full many in the stark and fearful fight.
Nor of all thereof may I tell thee or name their number through,
All those the many people whom the Argive champion slew.
But only of Telephus' son, whom he slew with the brazen spear,
Eurypylus the hero; and a many more there were
Of Ceteians who fell about him, and all for the gifts of a wife.
And he was the fairest I saw there, save Memnon the mighty in strife.
But when we went into the Horse that was wrought by Epeius' deed,
All we the best of the Argives, and thereof was I charged with the heed,
Both to open the strong-built ambush and to shut the door of it;
There the other Danaan chieftains and those who were wise of wit
Were wiping the tears, and trembling on the limbs of each did fall;
But him with mine eyes beholding I noted not at all
That his fair flesh waxed the paler, nor wiped he tears from his cheek,
But ever was he pressing, and the leave of me would seek
To be down and out of the Horse; while he clutched his sword-hilt still
And handled his spear brass-heavy as he brooded the Troy-folks ill.
But when the steep city of Priam with war we had undone
He went up on the ship with the honour and the share that he had won
Unscathed, and never smitten with the point and edge of brass
Nor hurt amid the hand-strokes, and all that cometh to pass
Where with confused mingling the Ares' strife betides.'
"Then down the asphodel meadow stalked off with mighty strides
The spirit of the Swiftfoot, the glorious Æacus' seed,
In joy of the tale I told him, and the fame of his offspring's deed.
"Then the other ghosts of the dead men and of those that had their bane
They stood about me mourning and told their grief again;
Save only the ghost of Ajax the son of Telamon:
For he stood aloof in anger because of the day that I won
When we twain in strife contended adown by the ships of the sea,
Concerning the arms of Achilles which his mother bade should be;
And thereof doomed Pallas Athene and the sons of the Trojans withal.
Woe worth the day of my winning! that such a strife should befal,
Whereby such a head as Ajax the Nether Earth should hold:
A man of body the fairest, and the best in the deeds of the bold
Of all the other Danaans next to Peleus' noble son.
So I spake in speech that was soothing, and uttered a word thereon:
"'Ajax, great Telamon's son! and wilt thou not forbear,
Not even in death, thine anger for the strife of the baleful gear,

The grief that the high Gods fashioned for us the Argive men?
What a tower fell down when ye perished! How all Achæans then
No otherwise mourned thy death-day than they mourned great Peleus' seed,
And the head of that Achilles! and none to blame for the deed
Save Zeus, who the Danaan war-host held utterly in hate,
And thereby laid upon thee the very doom of fate.

But, O King, draw thou anigh me, that my voice and my word ye may hear,
And thy wrath and thine heart overweening somewhat ye may forbear!'

"So I spake; but nought he answered, but with the other dead
And the ghosts of men departed to the Nether Dusk he sped.
But e'en so, though wroth, he had spoken, and I to him again,
But the heart in my breast beloved withal was ever fain
To look upon the others, the ghosts of the dead and gone.

"There then I looked on Minos, of Zeus the glorious son;
And he held the golden king-staff and doomed the dead as he sat;
And a many standing about him sought dooms of this and that,
Or they sat in the House of Hades, the House of the Gaping Gate.

"And there I beheld Orion, the man so mighty great,
Driving the deer together down the mead of asphodel,
E'en those that he erst had slaughtered on lonely waste and fell:
And he held the club all brazen that ne'er shall be fordone.

"And Tityus there I looked on, the glorious Earth's own son,
On the earth a-lying along; and o'er nine roods he spread.
And each side of him did a vulture his liver shear and shred,
Within the caul a-groping: whom he warded not off with his hands.
For as she went to Pytho through fair Panopeus' lands

He dealt perforce with Leto, e'en Zeus' far-glorious wife.
"And Tantalus I looked on, gripped by a wretched life:
For in a mere was he standing that came anigh to his chin,
And there he stood and thirsted, and yet no drink might win:
For as oft as stooped the elder when he longed for the water sweet,
So oft it waned earth-swallowed; and round about his feet,
Lo there the black earth lying, by the God made parched and dry.
Moreover, trees high-blossomed put forth their fruit on high,
As pear-trees and pomegranates, and apples shining fair,
And figs as sweet as honey, and olives rich to bear;
But when up reached the elder his hands thereon to lay,
Unto the clouds, the dusky, the wind straight tossed them away.
"And Sisyphus there I looked on, gripped by strong sorrows' weight:
For with both hands was he lifting a stone most monstrous great,
And with hands and feet for ever against the stone did he strain,
Up o'er the bent to shove it: but e'en at point to gain
The brow and tumble it over, its weight would turn him back,
And adown to the plain was it rolling as a thing that all pity did lack.
And he strove and strained to thrust it aback, and from every limb
Flowed down the sweat, and the dust-cloud rose up from the head of him.
"And Heracles the mighty I saw when these went by;
His image indeed: for himself mid the Gods that never die
Sits glad at the feast, and Hebe fair-ancled there doth hold,
The daughter of Zeus the mighty and Here shod with gold.
But about him was noise of the dead, as of birds fear-wildered in flight
About and about; and he wended as the dusk of the midmost night,
With his bow all bare in his hand and the arrow laid on the string,

And peering around and about him, as who would loose at a thing;
And his breast was girded about with a belt of wonder and fear,
And of gold was that girdle fashioned, and strange things inwrought there,
As bears, and boars of the woodland, and lions gleaming-eyed,
And days of strife and battles, and murders of men that have died;
And he who that marvellous girdle by his craft did fashion and lay
Hath never wrought such another, nor will do yet on a day.

"But straight the hero knew me when he saw me with his eyes,
And amidst of lamentation bespake me in such wise:
'O many-wiled Odysseus, Zeus-bred Laertes' son,
Luckless! and after such evil and such a doom dost thou run,
As underneath the sunlight in the days agone I bore;
And I, son's son of Cronos, yet with labour laden sore?
For I, e'en I, the bondsman of a worser man was made,
And strife most utter grievous and toil on me he laid:
And the dog of this land he sent me to fetch: for of every broil
This one he deemed the direst and the heaviest of toil.
Yet forsooth in the end I vanquished, and brought the beast from Hell,
And Grey-eyed Athene sped me, and Hermes sped me well.'
"So he spake, and into the House of Hades went his way;
And there awhile I abided till another thither should stray
Of the men that were the heroes and died in the days of old.
And more had I seen of the ancients, e'en those I was fain to behold,
As Theseus and Pirithoüs, the Gods' sons great of renown;
But thousand and thousandfold now was the throng of the dead men grown,
And awful was their clamour, and pale fear fell on me,
Lest forth from the House of Hades the dread Persephone
Should send me the Head of Gorgon, that monster of man's fear.

"So straight to the ship I hastened, and bade my fellows there
Themselves to get a-shipboard, and the hawsers loose to throw.
And up on the ship they gat them, and sat on the thwarts alow,
And adown the River of Ocean on the rippling stream we fared,
Sped first by the oars and the rowing, by a fair breeze afterward.