Book XXI

Now the Grey-eyed, the Goddess Athene, planted a thing to grow
In the heart of Icarius' daughter, Penelope wise to know,
That she bring the Bow to the Wooers, and the grey steel therewithal,
For the birth of strife and murder within Odysseus' hall.
So up the lofty stair of her chamber now she went,
And in her strong hand took she the key that was shapely bent,
And brazen and fair, with a handle thereto of ivory,
And she went with her women of service to the outermost chamber on
Wherein there lay together the treasure of the King,
Both gold and brass and iron well wrought in the smithying. high,
And therein lay the bent-back bow, and the shaft-full quiver lay there,
Wherein were a many arrows the grief and the groan that bear;

Which same were the gift of a friend, godlike, whom while agone
He met in Lacedæmon, e'en Iphitus Eurytus' son;
But it was in the stead of Messene that they came together there,
In Orsilochus' house the war-deft: thither needs must Odysseus fare
To seek him a debt which the people, the whole folk, owed him aright;
Whereas men of Messene had lifted in their ships with the benches dight
Out of Ithaca sheep three hundred, and the herders that with them were.
And so upon that sending the long way did Odysseus fare,
Yet a lad, and his father sent him, and the elders of the men.
But Iphitus sought his horses which he had lost as then,

Twelve brood-mares with their sucklings, toil-patient mules beneath
And they forsooth thereafter were but for his doom and his death;
When he to the Son of Zeus the man, the strong-souled came,

E'en Heracles, well-proven in mighty deeds of fame,
Who slew him, his guest in his house, and in his hardihead
Feared not the following wrath of the Gods, nor the table he spread
For the guest; but een thereafter the man himself did he slay,
And kept for his own the horses strong-hoofed, nor let them away.
On this quest he fell in with Odysseus, and to him he gave the bow
Which Eurytus the mighty had borne a while ago,
But unto his son he gave it when he died in his lofty hall.
Unto him a keen sword gave Odysseus, and a mighty spear withal,
For the birth of close-knit friendship: but yet they never knew
The tables of each other: for ere that Zeus' offspring slew
That Iphitus Eurytus' son, the Deathless Godfolk's peer,
Who had given the bow to Odysseus: who never the same would bear
On the black ship, when he wended his way to the battle-tide,
But for his dear friend's memory he laid it to abide
In his treasure; but oft would he bear it as about his lands he passed.
So when that glory of women to her chamber came at last,
She stood on the oaken threshold which erst the wright had made

All smooth by his art and his cunning, and the rule thereto had laid,
And thereto had fitted the door-posts and hung the door-leaves bright.
Therewith the thong of the latch-ring she cast aloose forthright,

And thrust in the key moreover, and shot back the bolts of the door
With an aim that was straight and downright; and e'en as a bull doth roar
A-feeding in the meadow, the fair doors smit by the key

Roared out so loud, and before her flew open speedily,
And she went on the high-raised flooring whereon the coffers stood,
Wherein there lay the raiment stored up sweet-smelling and good;
And thence she reached her over, and took down the bow from the pin,
And therewith the shining bow-case that the same was lying in.

There then adown she sat her, and the case on her dear knees laid,
And her King's bow thence a-drawing shrill wailing there she made.
But when of tearful wailing she was satiate at the last,

Therewith unto the feast-hall and the haughty Wooers she passed,

And the back-bent bow in her hand and the shaft-full quiver she bore,
Wherein were many arrows laden with groaning sore;
And the handmaids that were with her, a chest were they carrying
Where lay much brass and iron, the war-gear of their King.

But when that glory of women came amidst of the Wooers there,
She stood beside the doorpost of the roof built stout and fair,
Before her face upholding a lap of her delicate hood,

And withal on either side her a trusty handmaid stood;
And straight she spake to the Wooers and said a word to hear:
"Hearken, O high-heart Wooers, this house that waste and wear,
Eating and drinking our substance without a stop or stay,
The wealth of our house-master so long a while away,
And can make no other pretext of the matter ye plan to do
But that ye long to wed me and make me the wife of you.
—Come, Wooers, since the contest and the prize befalleth so,
Here will I lay before you Odysseus' mighty bow,

And whichso of you the easiest with his palms the bow shall bend,
And throughout all twelve of the axes the shaft therefrom shall send,
Him then shall I follow, departing from this house of the wedded wife,
This fair house so abundant in all that upholdeth life;

Which yet shall I remember, though but in dreams it be."
So she spake, and Eumæus the swineherd, the goodly man, bade she
To lay before the Wooers the bow and the iron grey;
And Eumæus took them weeping as adown the gear did he lay:
And otherwhere wept the neatherd when he saw the bow of his lord.
But Antinoüs fell to chiding, and spake and said the word:
"O fools of the field! still pondering on things that endure but a day,
Why drop ye tears, poor wretches, and stir in such a way
The heart of our lady within her? when even as it is
In grief her soul abideth, since her loved mate she doth miss.
Now sit and feast in silence; or out a-doors go ye
To weep your fill, and behind you leave this same bow to be
A contest for the Wooers, and no lightly-heeded thing;
For I deem that the bow well-shaven not lightly one shall string,
Since no such man of prowess midst all these doth abide
As once was that Odysseus: and I saw him once on a tide,
Whereof I yet have memory, when a little child was I."
So he spake, and the heart within him was hoping verily
To stretch the string, and the arrow right through the iron to waft,
While he himself was fated to be first to taste of the shaft

At the hands of the blameless Odysseus, the man he then did shame
As he sat in his halls, still urging his fellows to the same.
But Telemachus' holy might now spake amidst them and said:

"Ah! Zeus the Son of Cronos all witless me hath made!
For my mother beloved is saying, and she the wise of heart,
That she now will follow another and from this our house depart,
While I laugh and in my mind, gone witless, glad am I.
So come ye, ye Wooers, look to it! for set forth is the prize on high.
There is never another such woman in all the Achæan land,
Not in Pylos the holy, or Argos, or there where Mycene doth stand,
Nor in this our Ithacan folkland, or the mainland black of earth;
And ye yourselves ye know it: why praise I my mother's worth? xro
So draw ye aback for no pretext, nor hold ye long aloof
From this bow-bending, for we too would see it put to the proof;
Yea, I myself will try it, this deed of the bow to do,

If haply I may bend it and shoot the iron through.
Then my mother beworshipped shall leave me, and I with no sorrow of mind
When she goes from this house with another, and I am left behind;
E'en I, such a man that my father's fair weapons I bear at the last."

So he spake, and his cloak of purple from his shoulders straight he cast
And leapt upright; and his war-sword from his shoulder did he do.
Then first he set up the axes, having digged a long trench straight through
For all the axes to stand in; and by rule set them aright,
And trod in the earth about them, and all wondered at the sight,

How orderly he arrayed them, who the first time saw them now.
Then he went and stood on the threshold, and fell to trying the bow.
Thrice then he made it tremble in his longing the bow to bend;
And thrice he laid by his prowess; though his soul yet longed in the end
To draw the bow-string duly and shoot the iron through:

And now might he have bent it, so strong the fourth time as he drew,
But Odysseus nodded unto him and withheld him, long as he might.
Then Telemachus' holy power amidst them spake outright:

"Out on it! either a dastard unmighty henceforth shall I be,

Or I am o'eryoung to be trusting in the might and the hands of me
To ward off the man who preventeth, or falling on me in the fight.
But come now, ye who of prowess are mightier than my might,
Prove ye the bow amongst us, let an end of the trial be made."

So saying, the bow from off him adown on the ground he laid,
And against the well-joined panel fair-polished the same did he lean,
And by its fair-wrought horn-tip the arrow swift and keen,
And so went and sat him adown on the high seat whence erst he arose.

Then Antinoüs, son of Eupeithes, fell to and spake amidst those:
"Rise up now from the left hand, all ye fair fellows of mine,
From the selfsame place beginning whence beginneth the pouring of wine."

So he spake, and the word of his speaking seemed good to every one.
And first uprose Leiodes; and he was Œnops' son,
And the seer unto the Wooers; and he sat by the goodly bowl
In the innermost nook, at all tides; alone unto his soul
The deeds of shame were hateful, and the Wooers, he blamed them all.
So first the bow he handled, and the sharp shaft therewithal,

And he went to the threshold and stood there and the deed of the bow would do;
But nowise might he bend it, for it wearied his hands as he drew
That were all unworn and tender: so then to the Wooers he spake:

"O friends, I may not bend it; so the bow let another take.
But many a man of the highest, this bow shall bring to nought

His life and his soul. Yet far better it is unto death to be brought
Than to live and make miss of the thing for which in this house alway
We are gathered here together, expecting day by day.

And now, if any hopeth and his heart longeth eagerly

To wed Odysseus' bed-mate and wed Penelope,
Then, when of the bow he is proven and a sight of the matter hath had
Let him woo some other woman of Achæans lovely clad,
And seek her with gifts of wooing; and this woman, soon or late,

Let her wed the greatest giver and the man that is sent her by fate."
In such words he bespake them, and from him put the bow,

And leaned it against the panel, well-jointed, smoothed enow,
And against the fair-wrought horn-tip he leant the arrow keen,
And so set him adown on the high-seat wherein he erst had been.

But Antinoüs fell to chide him, and spake the word and said:
"Leiodes, and what a word from the wall of thy teeth hath sped!
A hard word and a grievous that I am wroth to hear.

What! the life and the soul of our highest this bow then shall outwear
Because thou wert not able to bend it by thy might?
Nay, sure thy mother beworshipped ne'er brought thee forth to light
To be a bender of bows, and a man the arrow to wend;

Yet the other high-heart Wooers that bow shall speedily bend."
He spake, and the herder of goats, Melanthius, bade withal:
"Melanthius, hasten and kindle a fire amidst of the hall,
And put a great bench beside it, and fleeces over it spread,
And bring forth the great lard-cake that lieth within the stead,
That we younglings the bow may warm, and with fat anoint it about,
And so try it again, and the contest to its end may carry out."
Then Melanthius speedily quickened the fire unwearied of flame,
And brought up a bench to set by it, and fleeces cast over the same,
And brought forth the great lard-cake that lay the house within;
And the younglings warmed it and tried it; but neither so might they win
To bend the bow, for thereunto much lacking in might they were.
But Antinoüs yet withheld him and Eurymachus, godhead's peer,
The chiefs of the Wooers excelling in might most valorous.
But those twain, they now had wended together out of the house,
The neatherd and the swineherd of Odysseus godhead's peer;

And himself, the goodly Odysseus, came forth to where they were,
And when they were come without doors and were gotten forth of the close
He put forth the sound of his voice, and with kind words spake unto those:

"Neatherd, and thou, O Swineherd, shall I say a word to you,
Or hide it within me? that speaking my spirit biddeth me to.
—What men were ye for the warding of Odysseus, were he come
From anywhere of a sudden, and a God should bring him home?
On that day would ye stand by Odysseus, or the men that are come to woo?
Speak out what the heart and the soul withinward urgeth you!"

Spake the neatherd, he who heeded the herds of the beeves and the kine:
"Zeus Father! now be accomplished this inward hope of mine,
Of this man's home-returning with a very God to lead;

Then should ye wot of my prowess and my hands to do the deed."
And in likewise spake Eumæus, and to all Gods sped the prayer
For all-wise Odysseus returning to his house upbuilded fair.
So now when he had knowledge of their steadfast hearts and true,
Again in words he bespake them, and thuswise answered thereto:
"Lo, here am I, and at home. Many griefs have I had to bear,

And am come to the land of my fathers at last in the twentieth year,
And I wot that of all the homemen I am welcome to you alone.
Forsooth amid all the others no prayer have I heard and known,
No prayer for my returning a-back to my house and hall.

Unto you then the truth shall I tell, how hereafter things shall befall:
If a God these haughty Wooers shall quell beneath my hand
I shall give you a wife to each one, and thereto gear and land,
And a house by my house builded; and when all these deeds are done
Shall ye be Telemachus' fellows, yea, brethren of my son.
But come, another token most manifest will I show,
That the truth in your souls may be strengthened, and my very self ye may know.
—Lo the scar of the hurt, which the wood-boar with his white tooth drave on a tide,
When with Autolycus' children I sought Parnassus' side!"
So saying, the rags about him from the mighty weal he drew,
And they twain looked upon it, and all the tale they knew;

And they wept, and o'er wise Odysseus they cast their hands, they twain,
And kissed his head and his shoulders, and loved him and were fain;
And Odysseus also kissed them on their heads and on their hands.

And now amidst their wailing had the sunlight left the lands
Had not Odysseus refrained them; and he spake, and thus said he:
"Cease now your weeping and wailing lest any one may see
From out the hall a-coming, and thereof within may show.
Now enter we not together, but one after other go,
I first, ye following after: and take this for a sign from me.
For all the others, as many as high-heart Wooers be,
They will all of them hinder the giving unto me of the quiver and bow;
But, bearing the same in thine hands, Eumæus, do thou go
Through the house to give them to me; and tell thou the women withal
To shut and to lock the doors well-fitted that are to the hall;
And if any shall happen to hear the din or the groaning of men
Within our walls, then nowise let her go without doors then;
But before her work abiding in silence let her be.
But thou, O good Philcetius, I charge thee shut with a key
The gate of the garth, and make haste the cable across it to cast."

So saying, into the house of the pleasant place he passed,
And sat him adown on the settle from whence he erst arose;
And those homemen of goodly Odysseus moreover entered the house.
But Eurymachus this meanwhile was a-handling of the bow,
With the fire a-warming it over; and yet not even so
Might he bend it, and most hugely groaned his heart of valiancy,
And in grief he fell to speaking, and e'en such a word spake he:
"Out on it! Sorrow is on us for myself and all of these!

Not so much do I grieve for the wedding, though that be sore misease.
For a many there be of maidens Achæan, both here on the shore
Of Ithaca sea-begirdled, and in many a folkland more.

But if in the might of our bodies we fall so far below
The might of the godlike Odysseus, that we may not bend the bow,
Then e'en for the men of hereafter lo a pitiful tale to tell!"
But Antinoüs, son of Eupeithes, to answering him befell:
"Eurymachus, nought shall it be so, as thyself thou wottest indeed:
For e'en now though the folk to that God a holy feast do they speed,
And who can bend the bow that while? Let it be as now.
And were it not well if we left all these axes standing a-row?
For indeed I nowise deem it that any shall come to the hall
Of Odysseus, son of Laertes, and bear them off withal.
So come now, let the wine-swain fill all the cups a-row,
That we may pour drink-offering and lay by the crooked bow.
And tomorn bid we Melanthius, who over the goats hath heed,
That the best of the goats up hither, yea, the flower of the flock, he lead,
And we to the Bowman's Glory, Apollo, shall offer the thighs,
And prove the bow, and accomplish the contest and the prize."
So Antinoüs spake, and all men consented to his word;
And came the henchmen, and over their hands the water poured,
And with the drink the younglings crowned all the wine-bowls there,
And filled the cups for the offering, and dealt to each his share.
But when they had poured, and had drunken whatso their souls deemed
Then spake the wise Odysseus from his craft-devising mood:
"Hearken to me, O Wooers of this Queen renowned well, good
Till I say what the soul in my breast now biddeth me talk and tell;
But Eurymachus am I praying, and Antinoüs godhead's peer
Over all, for he hath spoken a rightful word to hear.
Leave we the bow for a season, that the Gods may heed it still,
And the God shall give might to-morrow to whomsoever he will,
Yet give me the bow well-shaven, that here, before your sight,
I may try my hands and my prowess, if yet abideth the might
Wherewith my limbs the lithesome were furnished while agone;
Or if straying and ill-nurture by now have all foredone."

So he spake; and out of measure in all those the wrath did grow,
For fear lest he get to bending the shapely-shaven bow.
And Antinoüs fell a-chiding, a word he fashioned there:

"O wretch of guests! who lacketh all wit, e'en the littlest share,
Is it nought that amidst us high ones in peace thou makest cheer,
Nor lackest thy share of the banquet, and furthermore may'st hear
Our words and all we tell of; and none else is hearkening
Of strangers or of bedesmen to our talk of many a thing?
It is the sweet wine scathes thee; which hurteth others too,

Who take it greedily gaping, nor drink but what is due.
It was wine that bewildered the centaur, Eurytion, mighty of fame,
In the hall of the man, high-hearted Perithoüs, when he came
To the Lapithæ: in that while with wine his soul he distraught,
And, run mad in Perithoüs' house, great deeds of evil wrought,

But wrath fell on the lords, who leapt up and through the porch and the door
Haled him out, and the ears and nostrils from off the centaur shore
With the pitiless brass; so, bewildered, he wandered from part unto part,
Bearing the sin and the sorrow of the folly of his heart.

Thence then 'twixt the men and the centaurs the battle came to pass;
But first he brought bale on himself, for that heavy with wine he was.
Anda mighty bale I forebode thee if thou shalt bend the bow,

And ye shall meet no kindness as amidst our folk ye go,
But in a black ship of the sea shall we verily send thee then
To King Echetus, the maimer and scathe of all mortal men,
Whence nought shall ever save thee. In peace sit drinking now,
Nor fall to strife and contest with men that are younger than thou."
But Penelope the heart-wise she fell to speaking there:
"To maltreat the guests, Antinoüs, is neither right nor fair,
E'en Telemachus' guests, whoever to this our house may wend.

Deem'st thou that if this stranger the great bow of Odysseus shall bend,
Putting trust in his hands, and the prowess that within the man is rife,
He shall lead me home and make me his very wedded wife?

Nay, the man himself in his breast no such a hope doth bear,
Nor yet need any man of you, of those that are feasting here,
Be vexing his heart hereover; 'twere a most unseemly thing."
Then Eurymachus, Polybus' son, thus spake in answering:
"O Daughter of Icarius, all-wise Penelope,

That the man should lead thee homeward no such a thought had we,
But we fear the shame and the rumour of men, and of women withal,
Lest some one of Achæans be saying, some man, the basest of all:
'Forsooth men worser than worse must go wooing the bed-fellow

Of a mighty man, and nowise might they bend his well-smoothed bow,
And lo another, a beggar, a wanderer, cometh thereto,
And lightly the bow hath he bended and shot the iron through.
So will they say, and of us a most pitiful tale will it be."
But to him thus spake in answer heart-wise Penelope:
"Eurymachus, nought 'mid the people can they be fair of fame
Who eat up the house of a chieftain and do him deeds of shame:
Why then make ado of this also to be for a pitiful tale?
And lo you! tall is the stranger, a well-knit man and hale,
And he boasts him of his kindred as the son of a father of might,
So give him the bow well-shaven that we may look on the sight.
And one thing now I tell you, and fulfilled shall be the same:
If he the bow hath bended, and Apollo give him the fame,
A goodly change of raiment, cloak and frock, will I give him then,

And a keen-head spear will I give him to ward him of dogs and of men,
And a two-edged sword moreover, and shoes on his feet will I do,
And will speed him whithersoever his soul may bid him go."

But Telemachus the heedful he answered presently:
""My mother, none of Achæans is a better man than I
To give the bow or withhold it from whatso man I will,
For as many as lord it over the rugged Ithacan hill,
Or dwell about the islands that off horse-kind Elis lie.
Of whom shall no man force me unwilling; not if I
Shall give this gear to the stranger straight out for his own to bear.
But go thy ways to the chamber, and heed thine own work there,
Distaff and loom, and the women id thou their work to speed.
But as for the bow, this matter it is for men to heed,
For all men, and me above all men; for the might of the house is in me."
Then, wondering, back to her chamber she gat her presently,
For in her heart was she storing the wise words of her son.

So then to the bower aloft with her handmaids was she gone,
Where she wept for her husband beloved, Odysseus, till at last
The sweet sleep over her eyelids grey-eyed Athene cast.

Then the swineherd took up the bow to bear it adown the hall;

But throughout the halls the Wooers cried at him one and all;
And thus would one fall speaking 'midst those haughty younglings there:
"Thou hapless, thou gangrel swineherd! and whither dost thou bear
The crooked bow? Now swiftly shall the swift hounds thou hast bred
Devour thee far from menfolk amidst the swine of thy stead,

If we have but the grace of Apollo, and the Deathless give their grace."
So they spake; and the bow he was bearing he laid adown in its place,
In fear because a many in the halls against him cried.
But Telemachus shouted at him a threat from the other side:
"Nay, bear on the bow, my father, lest thou do ill, heeding all!

Take heed lest I, thy younger, to driving thee forth shall fall,
And pelt thee afield with pebbles, since in might am I better than thou.
Yea, would that in hands and prowess as much mightier were I now
Than those others, they of the Wooers, that hang about the house!
Then speedily would I send them in manner dolorous

From out our halls and homestead, for they plan me bale hereby."

So he spake, and all the Wooers laughed on him pleasantly,,
And their bitter wrath against him they laid aside withal.
And in that while the swineherd bare the bow adown the hall,
And drawing anear to Odysseus in his hands the weapons laid.
Then he called forth the nurse, Euryclea, and spake to her and said:
"Euryclea, thou the heart-wise, Telemachus biddeth thee
That the hall-doors closely-fitting thou shut and lock with a key;
And if any hear a groaning, or the noise of men and the din

Amidst our walls, in nowise go ye outdoors from within,
But there abide in silence beside the work ye speed."

So he spake; and his word was wingless and abode with her for her heed,
And she locked with a key the doors of the halls of the lovely stead.
And silently forth from the house meanwhile had Philcetius sped,

And therewith he bolted the gate of the well-walled forecourt there;
But there lay beneath the cloister a curved ship's mooring-gear,
A flag-wrought rope, and therewith he bound o'er the gate of the close,
And then gat him aback and sat down on the bench whence he erewhile arose,
And set his eyes on Odysseus, who as now the great bow bare,
And was turning it over on all sides, and trying it here and there,

Lest the worms its horn should have eaten while long was its master away,
And one would be eyeing his neighbour, and thuswise would he say:
"Lo here, a lover of bows, one cunning in archery!
Or belike in his house at home e'en such-like gear doth lie;
Or e'en such an one is he minded to fashion, since handling it still,
He turneth it o'er, this gangrel, this crafty one of ill!"

And then would another be saying of those younglings haughty and high:
"E'en so soon and so great a measure of gain may he come by
As he may now accomplish the bending of the bow."

So the Wooers spake; but Odysseus, that many a rede did know,
When the great bow he had handled, and eyed it about and along,
Then straight, as a man well learned in the lyre and the song,

On a new pin lightly stretcheth the cord, and maketh fast
From side to side the sheep-gut well-twined and overcast:
So the mighty bow he bended with no whit of labouring,
And caught it up in his right hand, and fell to try the string,
That 'neath his hand sang lovely as a swallow's voice is fair.
But great grief fell on the Wooers, and their skin changed colour there,
And mightily Zeus thundered, and made manifest a sign;
And thereat rejoiced Odysseus, the toil-stout man divine,
At that sign of the Son of Cronos, the crooked-counselled Lord;
And he caught up a swift arrow that lay bare upon the board,
Since in the hollow quiver as yet the others lay,
Which those men of the Achæans should taste ere long that day,

And he laid it on the bow-bridge, and the nock and the string he drew,
And thence from his seat on the settle he shot a shaft that flew
Straight-aimed, and of all the axes missed not a single head,

From the first ring: through and through them, and out at the last it sped
The brass-shod shaft; and therewith to Telemachus spake he:
"The guest in thine halls a-sitting in nowise shameth thee,
Telemachus. I missed not thy mark, nor overlong
Toiled I the bow a-bending; stark yet am I and strong.
Forsooth, the Wooers that shamed me no more may make me scorn!
But now for these Achæans is the hour and the season born
To dight the feast in the daylight, and otherwise to be fain
With the song and the harp thereafter that crown the banquet's gain."
So he spake; and with bent brow nodded, and Telemachus the lord,
Dear son of the godlike Odysseus, girt on his whetted sword;
His dear hand gripped the spear-shaft, and his father's side anear,
He stood by the high-seat crested with the gleaming brazen gear.