Book IV

So they came unto Lacedæmon in the hollow dales adown,
To the house of Menelaus, the lord of high renown,
And they found him holding a wedding to many a man of his kin,
Of his son and daughter the noble his house and his home within.
Now her to the son was he sending of Achilles, the cleaver of war,
As he yea-said and promised to give her by Troy in the days of yore;
And now the Gods for these to its end the wedding would speed;
So the maiden was he flitting to wend with chariot and steed
To the Myrmidon burg all-glorious, where the man was lord and king.
But the daughter of Alector from Sparta withal would he bring

For his last-loved son, Megapenthes, the mighty man born of a slave;
For now the Gods unto Helen no fruit of her body gave
Since the day when the lovely maiden, Hermione, she bare,
As the golden Aphrodite of body fashioned fair.

Thus then in the high-roofed hall were feasting, the neighbours and kin
Of the glorious Menelaus, and were merry therewithal;
And to them a goodly minstrel was harping and singing the lay;
And e'en with his song's beginning two tumblers fell to play,

And amidst the feasting folk they whirled about as they played.
But by the porch of the homestead those twain their horses stayed,
Telemachus the hero and Nestor's noble son,
And the swain, e'en Eteoneus, came forth and looked thereon,
Of the glorious Menelaus the handy fellow; so then
He went through the house to be telling thereof to the Shepherd of Men,
And drew anigh unto him, and set these words on the wing:
"There are stranger guests come hither, Menelaus God-bred king,
Two men that are like in fashion to the kin of mighty Zeus.
What say'st thou then? Their horses swift-footed shall we loose,
Or speed them on to another who to guest them may be fain?"
But the yellow Menelaus in wrath thus answered again:
"Eteoneus, son of Boethous, no fool thou wert wont to be,
But now as a child mere folly thou bab blest unto me.
What! have we not eaten guest-cheer of other men, we twain,
Ere hither we got us home; if yet of Zeus we may gain
An end of trouble henceforward? Go, loose the guest-folks' steeds,
And bring the men in to be feasted according to their needs."
Then the swain from the hall departed, and called on those who were
Of the handy swains of service, along with him to fare;
And they the sweating horses from the yoke unharnessed straight there,
And tied them up to the mangers wherefrom the horse-kind ate,
And they cast the oats into them, and hoary barley withal;
Then they tilted up the chariot 'gainst the shining face of the wall,
And into the holy house brought the twain, much wondering
At what their eyes were beholding of the house of the Zeus-bred king;
For therein was a glory abiding as it were of tke moon or the sun
In the high-roofed house of the famous, Menelaus the mighty one.
But when they for their eyes' rejoicing had gazed as they deemed it good,
They went to the well-smoothed bath-vats to wash them as they would;
And when the maids had washed them and with oil had sleeked them well,
They did the frocks upon them, and cloaks of close-set fell;
And they sat on the chairs beside him, Menelaus, Atreus' son,
And a damsel brought them water for their hands, and poured thereon
From a goodly golden ewer in a bowl of silver white.
Then the board well-smoothed and polished before them there she dight,
And a goodwife brought them bread, and set it there beside,
Of meat she made them welcome of such as did there betide.
And the sewer set forth the platters of flesh-meat manifold,
And therewithal beside them he set the cups of gold.
Then the yellow Menelaus, he greeted the twain and said:
"Now taste the meat and be merry; but when ye have broken bread
And have eaten, then will we ask you what manner of man ye be;
For in you the race of your fathers hath not failed utterly,
And ye are of men mace-wielding, and the kin of Zeus-bred kings,
For it is not in men that are base-born to beget such noble things."
With that word the fatted ox-chine, the roast, in hand did he take,
And gave them the very portion meted out for his honour's sake;
And therewith they stretched out their hands to the meat that before them
But when of meat and of drink they had worn the longing away,
Then to the son of Nestor spake Telemachus, drawing anear, lay.
Laying his head to his head that the others might not hear:

"O thou, the son of Nestor, to my heart the dearest of all!
Note thou the flashing of brass about the echoing hall,
The gleam of the gold, and amber, and silver, and ivory!
E'en such must the courts withinward of Zeus the Olympian be

For wealth untold: as I look my soul doth the wonder take."
But the yellow Menelaus was ware of the word he spake,
And he sent his voice to themward, and set such words on the wing:
"Dear son, no man that dieth may strive with Zeus the king,
For deathless are his houses, and his wealth may never die:
But of manfolk there may or may not be with me in wealth to vie.
Yet at least many things have I suffered, and have wandered far and near,
And about in ships have been flitted to come back in the eighth long year.
To Cyprus and Phoenicia and Ægypt have I strayed;
Ethiopia too and Sidon, and Erembian land we made,
And Lybia withal, where the lambs are full-horned from their very birth,
And thrice are the sheepkind yeaning in the space of one year of the earth;
Where neither king nor shepherd may ever lack to eat
Of either cheese or flesh-meat, or to drink milk fresh and sweet,
For yearlong there unceasing they yield to the milking-trough.
But while about I wandered and gat me gear enough,
That very while another was taking my brother's life,
In covert wise and unwares by the wiles of his wicked wife;
So in little joy am I ruling o'er all this wealth ye see.
Ye may know hereof from your fathers, whosoever they may be,
How much of grief I have suffered, how gone is my house of old,
That once was so goodly dwelt in, that such plenteous gear did hold.
Yea, would that I had but a third, and there still in my house to abide,
And that safe those men were living who long ago have died
In broad Troy far from Argos, the horseland of the earth!

"But while for all this I lament me, and grief in my soul has birth,
And oft in my halls here sitting my soul I satisfy
With bewailing of my sorrows, and oft lay sorrow by
(Since soon will a man be sated of lamentation chill);

Not so for all these do I sorrow as for one I sorrow still,
Whose memory maketh loathly my meat and my sleeping-tide,
For no one man of Achæans such labour did abide
As Odysseus wrought and laboured: and for him it was to be
But very toil and trouble; and enduring grief to me
That so long he wandereth houseless, while of him all tidings fail,
Whether he liveth or dieth. There too for him they wail, no
Penelope wise of heart, and Laertes elder of days,
And Telemachus left in his homestead new-born when he went his ways.''
He spake, and therewith the youngling to yearning grief he stirred,
And he dropped the tears from his eyelids as he of his father heard;
While before his eyes he was holding the cloak of purple dye
With both hands; but Menelaus beheld him heedfully,
And in his mind and his mood was he musing therewithal
If he should abide till the youngling to his mind his father should call,
Or whether he first should ask him and seek all matters to learn.
But while in his mind and his mood these matters did he turn,
Lo, Helen came from her chamber fragrant, high-vaulted of old;
And like unto Artemis was she the Dame of the Shaft of Gold.
And there with her came Adraste, who set forth the well-wrought chair;
But the carpet of soft wool woven forth did Alcippe bear,
And Phylo a silver basket, the gift of Polybus' wife
Alcandra; in Thebes of Ægypt forsooth she weareth life,
Where of all the world most treasure the houses in them have.
But he to Menelaus two silver bath-vats gave,
Two caldrons withal three-footed, and of gold ten talents weight.
And his wife to Helen moreover gave goodly gifts and great:
A distaff of gold and a basket fashioned on wheels to run,
Of silver wrought; but its edges about with gold were done.

And e'en this it was that was carried and set down by Phylo the maid,
With the wrought yarn all fulfilled, and the distaff over it laid,
Reached out therefrom, with its head well charged with dark-blue wool.
So Helen sat in the chair and under her feet was the stool.

So she spake out words to her husband, and asked him heedfully:
"Know we, O Menelaus, Zeus-cherished, who these be?
And what men of men they avow them, who this our house would seek?
Shall I lie or speak out the truth? Nay, my mood would have me speak.
I say then that none hath been seen, whether man or woman it were,
(And a mighty wonder holds me as I gaze upon him there),
More like than this man to the son of Odysseus mighty of heart,
Telemachus, left in his homestead new-born when he needs must depart;
What time the Achæan war-host for the shameless, even for me,
Went up under Troy and were waking the war so mightily."

But the yellow Menelaus he answered her and spake:
"Of this thing and the likeness thou deemest note also did I take:
And e'en now when I called unto mind the tale of Odysseus, and told
Of his toil and his trouble for me, that was grievous and manifold,
Then this man from under his brows let a bitter tear fall down,
As before his eyes he was holding the lap of his purple gown."
Then Pisistratus, son of Nestor, spake out and answered again:
"Menelaus, son of Atreus, Zeus-cherished leader of men,
Verily this is the son of him of whom thou hast told;
But wise is the man of his mood, and were shamed were he overbold
Hither to come, and be first to put forth the pushing word
Before thee, whose voice unto us is the voice of a God and a Lord.
But for me, the Gerenian Rider, e'en Nestor bade me to go
And guide the man hither to theeward, for thee would he look on and know,

That some word thou may'st teach unto him or some work that he may
For the son of an absent father in his house hath many an ill
When he hath none other helpers, as with this man now doth it fare. fulfil.
For far away is his father, nor others hath he there
Who may ward him amid the people and thrust the evil away."

But the yellow Menelaus thus fell to answer and say:
"Out on it! here to my house hath come the loved man's son,
Who for me hath laboured sorely and such doughty deeds hath done.
And I said that came he hither, above all Argive men
I would greet him; if Zeus of Olympus farseeing had given us then
Return to our house and our home in our swift ships over the sea,
I had given him dwelling in Argos, and a burg wherein to be,
And from Ithaca forth had I brought him, with his son and all his gear
And all his folk; and one city of those that are dwelt in here,
Of those that I lord it over, for him had I wasted clean.
Then oft in this homestead meeting together had we been,
And nothing then would have sundered our love and our delight,
Till the dark and the cloud of death had wrapped us up in the night.
But God for such things happening the grudge against us bore,
Since him only made he hapless returning never more."

He moved their hearts to weeping with the words that thus he said-
There wept the Argive Helen, the Zeus-begotten maid;
Telemachus was weeping, and the son of Atreus wept;
Nor yet the son of Nestor his eyes unwetted kept;
For he in his heart remembered Antilochus undone,
The noble warrior slaughtered by the bright Dawn's glorious Son:
It was him he held in memory as he let these words forth fly:

"O Atreus' son, the wisest of all the men that die,
Would the ancient Nestor name thee whenso we thought of thee
In our halls, and each of other asked what-like thou might'st be.
Yet -heed me, I pray, if thou mayest, since for my part indeed
I love not weeping at supper; and now doth the Day-dawn speed,
And at hand is the Mother of Morning: though no shame I think it yet
To weep for the man that dieth, and the day of his doom hath met,
Since there is no other honour that is left for the hapless dead
Save the tears to run over the cheeks, and the clipping the hair of the head.
Lo, I had a brother that perished, nor the worst of the Argives was he.
Yea, thou belike wilt have seen him, but he never was seen of me,
'Nor ever we met together: but men of Antilochus tell
That he outwent all in running, and withal was a warrior fell."
But the yellow Menelaus thus spake and answered again:
"O friend, hereof thou speakest as a heedful man among men
Would speak, and would do; yea, even were he elder-born than thy youth;
For e'en such a man is thy father, so wise are the words of his mouth;
And easy it is to know the seed of such an one
For whom in wedding and getting good fortune Zeus hath spun.
But he unto Nestor hath given henceforward for ever to bide
In his homestead, and ever smoothly toward age and the end to glide;
While his sons should be wise withal, and right good the spear to throw.
Now let us away with the weeping that we happed upon e'en now,
And betake us again to supper, and the water let men pour
On our hands; then betimes on the morrow shall tales be told once more:
'Twixt me and Telemachus then shall all speech to an end be sped."
He spake, and over their hands the water Asphalion shed,
The handy swain of the King Menelaus, glorious and great,
And they reached their hands therewith to the feast and the ready meat.

But now did the Zeus-born Helen on other matters think,
And she cast a thing and a drug in the wine whence they would drink,
The queller of grief and of anger, that lulleth all evil asleep;
And when this in the bowl is mingled and thereof one drinketh deep,
Then all day long o'er his cheek no tear adown shall fall,
Not e'en if his father lie dead and his mother were dead withal;
Nay, not if his brother before him the brazen edge should smite,
Or his well-loved son were slaughtered and his eyes beheld the sight.
Such goodly drugs and crafty the daughter of Zeus did own,
And Polydamna gave them, the wife of Ægyptian Thon,
Where most drugs of the world all over the corn-kind acres bear;
And many are hale for the mingling, and many are deadly and drear.
And every man of the leeches of that land is skilled indeed
Above all men; for truly are they Pæon's seed.
But when in the bowl she had put it and the wine she had bidden pour,
Forthwith she betook her to speaking, and said the word once more:
"Menelaus, son of Atreus, Zeus-cherished, and ye twain,
Sons of the good and the gallant, since turn and turn again
Zeus giveth good and evil, and of all things hath he might,
Be sitting here and feasting within our halls to-night,
With spoken tales be merry. Hear one befitting well;
For not with words may I number all tales that erst befell
Of the toils of Odysseus the patient, and all that him betid.
But one alone will I tell of that the brave man dared and did
In Troy-town, where the Achæans full many an evil bore.
For he on his own body laid grievous stripes and sore,
And with loathly rags on his shoulders, and e'en as a slave did he go,
And came his ways to the city and the wide ways of the foe.
So hid in the alien likeness of a beggar was he then;
But nought forsooth was he such-like by the ships of Achæan men.
In that shape went he down into Troy, and no man knew him there
But I alone: I knew him e'en in that guise and gear.
Therewith I questioned him straitly, but he shunned it with crafty lore;
But at last, when I had washed him and with oil had sleeked him o'er,
And had set the raiment on him, and had sworn an oath of might
That never amid the Trojans would I bring Odysseus to light,
Till he came to the booths of battle and the swift-going ships of the sea.
Then all the Achæan counsel he opened out unto me,
And many an one of the Trojans with the long-edged brass he slew,
And came his ways to the Argives and therefrom much knowledge drew.
"Shrill wailed the Trojan women, the others, but I was fain;
For turned was my mind and my mood to get me home again:
And now I loathed the blindness from Aphrodite's hand,
Wherewith she led me away from the well-loved father-land.
Apart from my child, and my chamber, and my lord she sundered me there,
Though neither in wit was he lacking, nor in form of his body fair."
But the yellow Menelaus thus answered thereunto:
"Yea, all these things, O wife, hast thou told in manner due;
I have known the mind and the counsel of many a man of war,
O'er a mighty deal of the earth have I passed and wandered afar,
But never anywhere yet have I seen such a thing with mine eyes
As the heart that Odysseus had of the patient mind and wise.
Yea, and this deed, this other that the stout man dared and did,
When in the Horse well-shapen we, the best of the Argives, were hid,
And for all the Trojan people we bore the death and the doom.
For then thou earnest thither, and some God had bidden thee come
Who on giving the gain and the glory to the folk of Troy was bent.
And Deiphobus the godlike withal beside thee went.
Three times about thou wentedst and handledst the hollow snare,
BOOK IV.

And on all the best of the Danaans by name thou calledst there,
And the voice of all wives of the Argives wert thou feigning cunningly.
Now there were the son of Tydeus and the great Odysseus and I,
All we were sitting amidmost and hearkened thy cry and thy speech,
And we twain, Tydides and I, were minded each and each

Either to rise and come forth, or to answer thee back from within;
But Odysseus there withheld us, though we longed that work to win:
And so we sons of Achæans in silence sat we all,
Save that Anticlus of all men with words would answer and call,
But on his mouth Odysseus he laid his mighty hand,
And held it there and stayed him, and saved the Achæan band,
Till at last did Pallas Athene from usward lead thee away."

But Telemachus the heedful thus answered and 'gan say:
"Menelaus, son of Atreus, Zeus-cherished people's lord,
Woe worth! for not even so the woful weird might he ward,
Not even though within him he bore an iron heart.
But come now, turn us bedward, that we others for our part
May have our fill of slumber, and in sweet sleep be laid."
He spake, and the Argive Helen straightway the handmaids bade
To lay the beds in the cloister, and over them to do
Fair purple rugs, and thereover the coverlets to strew,
And over all to be casting the blankets thick and fair.
Forth then from the hall they wended, and torch in hand they bare,
And arrayed the beds, and the marshal therefrom the guest-folk led,
And in the porch of the homestead they laid them down abed,
Telemachus the warrior, and Nestor's noble son;
But Atrides slept in the nook of his house high-builded and done,
And beside him the long-robed Helen, the glory of women, lay.

But when shone out the Mother of Morning, Rose-fingered Early Day,
From his bed uprose Menelaus, the good at the battle-word,
And clad him; and over his shoulders he hung his sharpened sword,
And unto his sleek-skinned foot-soles fair-fashioned sandals tied,
And like to a God to look on forth then from his chamber he hied;
And so to Telemachus came he, and named him and spake the word:
"What need hath brought thee hither, Telemachus the lord,

To Lacedæmon the Holy, o'er the broad back of the sea?
Thine own or a common matter? Speak straight and plain to me."
But Telemachus the heedful this word in answer spoke:
"Zeus-cherished son of Atreus, Menelaus leader of folk,
I came that thou mightest tell me of my father some true tale:
But my house is being devoured; the fat lands to fallow fail,
And the house is filled with the foemen, and oft and every day
My knock-kneed shambling oxen and my huddling sheep they slay,
Those Wooers of my mother with insolence fulfilled:
So now to thy knees have I hied me, if thou may'st be so willed,
To tell of his woful death-day if thou saw'st it with thine eyes,
Or from any other wanderer hast heard the tale arise
—This man, his mother bore him to most exceeding woe —
But have no respect of my sorrow or be soft and soothing now,"
But tell me all the story what wise the man thou hast seen.
And I pray thee if ever my father, the noble Odysseus, hath been
As good as his word unto thee of the thing that he promised to do
Amid the folk of the Trojans, the land of Achæan woe,
Of these things for me bethink thee, and tell me the very truth." youth:

Then from wrath-burdened mind Menelaus the fair thus answered the
"Out on if! how are these Wooers thus minded? yea and why
In the bed of a great-heart man will they, the puny, lie?

As when some hind hath been laying in a mighty lion's lair,
Her little fawns new-born, unweaned, and she leaveth them there,
And pasturing seeketh the knolls and the dales all grass bespread.
But lo! it befalleth thereafter that he cometh back to his bed,
And unto them both he dealeth a dreadful doom straightway;
And a dreadful doom for these men shall Odysseus deal on a day.
Grant Zeus the Father, Athene, and Apollo, that it might fall,
That being such a man as he showed him by Lesbos' well-built wall,
When he stood against Philomeleides, and the strife of wrestling had,
And threw him a mighty fall, and all the Achæans were glad —
Might Odysseus but meet those Wooers such a man as then was he,
Short then were their fated life-days, and bitter their wedding should be.
But of this whereof thou beseechest nought crooked or beside
The very sooth will I tell thee, and nought with guile will I hide.
But all that which I had from the Elder, the Unerring-one of the Sea,
No word thereof will I cover or huddle it up from thee.

"The Gods in Ægypt held me, though hither would I be gone,
Since the gifts an hundred-folded for them I had not done,
And ever the Gods would have us of their bidding mindful to be.
Now there is a certain island amidst the wave-washing sea,
That Pharos is named of men-folk, from Ægypt lying there
As far as in one day's sailing a hollow ship may fare;
When fast behind her follows the sea-wind piping shrill;
And therein is a handy haven, where the shapely ships that fill
Their store of the deep black water they drag down to the seas.
There for twenty days God held us, and never came the breeze,
No breath o'er the salt seas blowing; though such be born indeed
O'er the broad back of the seaflood the fleeting ships to speed.
There had all our victual perished, and all the might of our men,
If a certain of the Godfolk had not pitied and saved me then,
E'en the daughter of Proteus the mighty, the Elder of the Sea,
Eidothea hight, whose mind was mightily moved by me.
For she met me wandering alone as apart from my fellows I went,
Who over the isle-shore scattered fished on with angles bent;
For indeed their bellies constrained them, and hunger pinched them sore.
So she drew anigh me and spake, and the word to mewards bore:

"' Art thou but simple, O Stranger, and exceeding wanting in wit?
Or wanton and heedless art thou? Or thy grief thou lovest it?
That so long in this isle thou art holden, and no issue may'st thou find,
While the heart of thy folk is failing and minished is their mind?'

"She spake, but I took up the word and answered for my part:
'Nay, now to thee will I tell it, since one of the Gods thou art,
That unwilling here am I holden; and this is the tale to tell,
That I trespass against the Deathless who in the wide heaven dwell.
But since the Gods know all things, do thou speak out and say
Which one of the Deathless hath hindered and bound me back from my way,
And my wending back, and my going across the fishy main?'
"So I spake; but that Godhead's glory thus answered me again:
Yea to thee, O friend, will I tell it as clearly as I may.
Here haunteth the Sea-wight, the Elder, that never goeth astray,
Proteus the deathless of Ægypt, who throughly knoweth all
The deeps of the sea; of Poseidon the very bounden thrall,
And they say that he is my father and begat me once on a while.
Now mightest thou compass an ambush to take the man by guile,
He should tell thee of thy faring, and the way that is meeted for thee,
Whereby thou shalt get thee homeward across the fishy sea.
Yea, thou dear unto Zeus, he shall tell thee, if thereof thou hast the will,
What thing in thine house hath befallen, be it good, or be it ill,
While afar and long thou hast wandered and laboured thy way with pain.'

"She spake, and I took up the word and answered her again:
'Yea now, for this Ancient of Gods do thou devise the snare,
Lest he perchance escape me foreseeing and beware.
For 'tis hard for a man that dieth against a God to prevail.'

"I spake and that Godhead's glory again took up the tale:
'Yea, all shall I tell thee, O friend, that thereof thou have no doubt:
When up to the midmost heaven the sun hath wended about,
The Sea-floods' Elder unerring cometh up from the brine outright,
Along with the breath of the west-wind with the darkling ripple dight,
And in the hollow places of the rocks he falleth asleep,
And about him the flock of the sea-calves, the brood of the Maid of the
Lie sleeping gathered together, come up from the hoary sea,
And they breathe forth a bitter savour of the brine where the flood-wells be. Deep,
Now thither will I lead thee when the dawn beginneth to show,
And lay thee there all duly: but three whom thou dost know
To be the best of thy fellows from thy fair-decked ships choose well.
But that Elder's baleful magic to thee will I fully tell:
For first unto numbering his sea-calves and telling them o'er will he fall,
But when his count is accomplished, and he hath beheld them all,
Then lieth he down amidst them, as a shepherd amidst of his sheep.
But so soon as ye have beheld him that he lieth there asleep,
Then mind ye of your starkness and to your might look ye,
That ye hold him, as sore as he striveth, and longeth to be free.
He will try it and turn into all things, all such as creep upon earth,
And he will be the water, and the fire that of God hath birth.
But all unmoved do ye hold him, and press him all the more.
But when he shall speak unto you in the shape that he had before,
And he being then nought other than ye saw him lying asleep,
Then refrain your might and loosen that Elder of the Deep.
But ask him which of the Gods it is that is hard on thee,
And ask of thine homeward faring, and thy road o'er the fishy sea.'
"She spake, and therewithal dived under the billowy flood;
But unto my ships I wended where hauled on the sands they stood,
And with many things as I went my mind was darkened o'er.
But when at last I was come to the sea and the ships and the shore,
Our supper there we dighted, and the deathless night came on,
And there on the salt-sea beach the slumber and sleep we won.
But when the Mother of Morning, Rose-fingered Dawn, shone clear,
By the side of the wide-wayed seaflood in that hour did I fare,
Many things of the Godfolk praying: and I had with me fellows three,
E'en such as of wont I trusted when any deed was to be.

"But she meanwhile went under the broad breast of the main,
And with four skins of the sea-calves came up from the sea again,
And all were new-flayed, for she devised for her father a snare;
So then in the sand of the sea-beach she scooped for us each a lair,
And sat and abode our coming till we neared her down on the beach.
Then she laid us all in order, and a skin cast over each.
Now our ambush was like to be grim, for indeed the baleful stench
Of the sea-bred beasts sore grieved us as we lay in the lurking-trench,
For who indeed would lie down and sleep by a sea-born whale?
But she saved us, and found us a solace that was of much avail,
For the deathless sweet-breathed savour she brought, and the same did lay
Beneath the nostril of each man, and the whale-stench did away.

"Through the morning there were we biding,-and patient hearts we bore,
Till the calves from the sea came flocking and pressing up ashore,
And laid them down on the sea-beach in order all around.
But at noon from the sea came the Elder, and there his calves he found
Fat fed, and he went o'er their order, and their number did he tell;
And us first mid the whales did he number, and no doubt his soul befell
Of the guile and the craft we devised him; but he lay down to sleep at the last.
Then we whooped and fell upon him, and our hands about him cast.
And nothing then did the Elder forget of his ancient guile;
For first a well-maned lion he was, and then in a while
A dragon he was, and a panther, and a boar of mighty make,
And wet water withal, and a tree that aloft its leaves did shake.
But unblenching there we held him, and patient hearts we bore.
But when he was grieved and weary, that Elder of ancient lore,
Then was he fain of asking, and bespake me words, and said:
"' What God, O son of Atreus, this rede for thee hath made,
That by guile thou hast got me unwilling; what wouldst thou that I do?'
"So he said, and I spake unto him and answered thereunto:
'Thou knowest, O Ancient; why then dost thou wind thy question about?
For here in this isle am I holden, and can find me no way out,
And hence the heart within me is worn and brought alow:
Now therefore do thou tell me, since the Gods all matters know,
Which one of the Deathless hindereth, and ever bindeth me,
From my homeward road and my faring across the fishy sea?'
"So I spake, and he in turn made answer in such wise:
'Yea, thee it behoved most surely to make fair sacrifice
To Zeus and the Gods ere ye wended, that as swiftly as might be
Ye should win to the land of your fathers as ye sailed the wine-dark sea.
Now to thee is the doom not meeted to behold thy friends and thy kin,
And to come to the land of thy fathers, and thine house well-builded therein,

Before thou hast got thee again to the River of Ægypt of old,
And the water fallen from Zeus; and the gifts an hundred-fold
Thou hast done to the Deathless Gods who dwell in the wide-spread heaven;
And then by the Gods shall thy way and the road that thou wouldest be given.'
"So he said, and thereat within me my very heart would break,
Because he bade me backward the Ægyptian land to make,

And wend o'er the darkling sea-flood a long and weary way;
Wherefore in words I answered, and thus to him did say:
'Yea, all will I do, O Ancient! in such wise as thou biddest me do.
But I prithee tell me hereof, and speak but the word that is true.
Came those Achæans home a shipboard safe and hale,
Whom we left there, I and Nestor, when from Troy town we did sail?
Or else the bitter bane on his ship hath any found?
Or amidst the hands of well-willers when the spindle of war he had wound?'

"So I spake; but again he answered, and in this wise took up the tale:
'Atrides, why dost thou ask me? since thee it shall nowise avail
To know and to seek out my mind; but this to thee I tell,
That not long shalt thou bide unweeping when all thou knowest well.
For of these a many were quelled, and left was many an one.
But of all the brass-clad Achæans of the champions perished none
On the homeward way save twain: and thou know'st of the battle strife:
And one yet mid the wide sea somewhere is hoarded and hath his life.
Amid the long-oared ships was Ajax quelled indeed,
For on to the edge of Gyræ him did Poseidon speed,
And on to the mighty rock-walls he drew him safe from the sea.
And there his bane had he 'scaped, though loathed of Athene was he.
But he from a mind bewildered a word o'erweening cast,
How that now, in despite of the Gods, from the deep of the sea he had passed.
But him and his monstrous boasting then did Poseidon hear,
And straight in his mighty hands he caught up his three-tyned spear,
And therewith the rock Gyræan he smote, and clave it atwain,
So that part in its place was abiding, and a fragment fell in the main,
E'en that whereon Ajax was sitting when his mind was clouded o'er.
Him then to the billowy sea-flood down the endless deep it bore
And thus and there he perished and the salt sea-water drank.
But thy brother fled from destruction, and thence away he shrank
In the hollow ships; for Here' the high queen saved him there.
But e'en as unto the headland of Malea he drew near,
The whirlwind snatched him away and him thenceforward drave,
Lamenting very sorely, across the fishy wave,
To the outermost land and the house where Thyestes dwelt of old;
But as then his son Ægistheus that dwelling-place did hold.
But when from even thence safe seemed his faring home,
And again fair wind gave the Gods and he to his house was come,
O then the land of his fathers in joy he went thereon!
And he touched the land and he kissed it, and the hot tears many an one,
From him were they pouring adown as he saw his land and was glad.
But him was the watcher beholding from the watching-place he had
Held there by the wily.Ægistheus, who had promised to give him of gold
Two talents' weight for a guerdon. There watch yearlong did he hold,
Lest the King should slip by and be mindful of his courage fierce and fell.
He now to the homestead hurried to the Folk-shepherd tidings to tell.
And straightway that Ægistheus devised a cunning snare,
For twenty men from the township he chose, of the best that were there,
And set them to lurk: but elsewhere he bade the banquet dight,
And with chariots and horses he wended to bid thereto forthright
Agamemnon the Shepherd of Folk; and he pondered the evil deed.
For all unawares and feasting the King to his bane did he lead,
And slaughtered him there as men slaughter a fatted ox in the stall.
Nor yet of Atrides' fellows was any man left at all,
Nor any man of Ægistheus: but in the halls they died.'
"He spake the word, and all broken did the heart within me abide,
And I wept on the sea-sand sitting, and desire in my heart was done
To be living any longer or to look on the light of the sun.
But when I was weary of weeping and wallowing on the ground,
The unerring sea-bred Elder a word for me he found:
"' No longer, son of Atreus, weep on so wearily,
For of no avail shall we find it; but as swiftly as may be
Seek out what way ye may wend you aback to your father's land.
For either alive shall ye meet him, or Orestes hath been beforehand
And hath slain him, and ye shall happen upon his funeral feast.'

"He spake, and the heart within me and the proud soul in my breast
Once more had rest and solace of all my sore lament,
And I lifted up my voice and a word on the wing I sent:

'Then I know concerning these men, but a third didst thou speak of to me
Whom thou saidst alive was hoarded somewhere in the wide-spread sea,
Or dead? for I long to hearken though it bring me grief to have heard.'

"So I spake, but he spake again, and gave me an answering word:
'The son of Laertes it is, whose home is the Ithacan stead;
And I in an island beheld him, as plenteous tears he shed
In the house of the Nymph Calypso; and perforce she holdeth him there,
So that he may not wend him to his fatherland to fare.
For now indeed no fellows and no oar-dight ships hath he,
E'en such as thence might speed him o'er the broad back of the sea.
But, Zeus-cherished Menelaus, to thee it shall not come
In the horse-kind land of Argos to meet thy death and doom.
But unto the fields Elysian and the wide world's-utmost end,
Where dwells tawny Rhadamanthus, the Deathless thee shall send,
Wherein are the softest life-days that men may ever gain;
No snow and no ill weather, nor any drift of rain;
But Ocean ever wafteth the wind of the shrilly west,
On menfolk ever breathing, to give them might and rest;
Because thou hast wedded Helen, and God's son art said to be.'
"And withal at that word of his he went under the billowy sea,
And unto the ships and my fellows the godlike I wended withal,
While many a darksome shadow about my heart did fall;
But when at last to the ships and the sea-side we had won,
Then all we set out supper, and Deathless Night came on,
And withal we laid us down and slept on the sea-beach there.
But when the Mother of Morning, Rose-fingered Dawn, shone clear,
Then first the ships we shoved adown to the holy sea,
And we set the masts and the sails in the ships wrought evenly,
And withal aboard went our fellows, and on the thwarts took seat,
And in orderly fashion sitting with the oars the grey sea beat.
"Back then to the River of Ægypt, Zeus-fed, the ships I brought,
And the gifts a hundred-folded all duly done I wrought;

But when of the Gods undying I had stayed the evil will,
I heaped up the howe to my brother that his fame might be quenchless still.
This done we wended us homeward, and the Deathless gave to me
Fair wind, and sent us swiftly to the land where we would be.

"But come now, I bid thee tarry within my house and hall
Until the eleventh day, or the twelfth day, shall befal,
When in goodly wise will I speed thee and give good gifts to thee —
Three steeds and a fair-smoothed twi-car; and another gift shall be
A goodly cup wherewith to the Deathless Gods to pour,
That of me thou mayest be mindful each day and evermore."
But Telemachus the heedful thus answering fell to say:
"No long while, son of Atreus, my parting-tide delay.
Forsooth yearlong were I willing to sit here by thy side,
And in my soul no longing for kindred or home would abide;
For wondrous joy I deem it thy word and thy tale to hear.
But now are my fellows wearying as they bide in Pylos the fair;
And forsooth for a space of time in thine house hast thou holden me.
But the gift, whatso thou wilt give me, an heirloom let it be.
But to Ithaca take I no horses, but leave them here as a gain
To thee; for thou rulest over a mighty stretch of plain.
And there groweth the lote-grass plenty, and withal the galingale,
And there wheat and rye and barley, white, wide-spread, shall not fail.
But in Ithaca are no courses wide-reaching, nor any mead;
A goatland: yet unto me more sweet than the land of the steed.
For not mead-rich nor horse-driving are the isles that lie in the sea:
And Ithaca, least of all islands, for such things fitting shall be."
So he spake; but smiled Menelaus the deft at the battle-shout,
And stroked him down with his hand and named him and spake out:
"Yea, good is thy blood and begetting, dear child, as thou speakest so;
And for thee these things will I change as I have the might to do.
And of all the stored-up treasure within mine house that lies
I will give thee the gift most goodly, and that which is most of price.
A fair-wrought bowl will I give thee, of silver wrought throughout,
But of gold its lips are fashioned that go all round about.
It was fashioned by Hephæstus, and Phædimus the king
Of Sidonians gave it unto me, whom his house was covering,
When I was about departing. Now to thee will I give it to take."
Thus then about such matters there each unto each they spake,
And the feasting-folk drew anear to the house of the king divine,

And sheep withal were they leading, and bringing heart-gladdening wine;
And their wives of the goodly head-gear bore in the wheaten bread,
And in the halls were they busy and the banquet there they spread.

But before the hall of Odysseus the Wooers pastime made,
With casting the quoits and the goat-spears on a level floor well laid,
Where with pride all overweening they erst were wont to be;
But there was Antinoüs sitting, with Eurymachus godlike to see;
And there were the chiefs of the Wooers and the doughtiest of all those.
But to them now came Noemon, son of Phronius, and stood close,
And spake to Antinoüs thus, and answer of him sought:
"Antinoüs, wot we at all, or perchance in our minds wot nought,
When cometh Telemachus back from Pylos of the sand?
For he went away with my ship, whereof need now cometh to hand:
Since to Elis the wide would I journey, for twelve brood-mares there have I,
And their suckling mules toil-patient untamed around them lie.
And fain would I drive away one and tame him to my need."

He spake and in heart they marvelled, for as yet they deemed not indeed
That he unto Pylos was gone, but that in the country-side
Among the sheep, or maybe with the swineherd, he yet did abide.

Then Antinoüs, son of Eupithes, the word to Noemon sent:
"Tell me truly now, when went he, and what lads with him went?
Were they Ithacan swains well-chosen, or his thralls and hirelings?
Or was his might so mighty to accomplish e'en these things?
And hereof the verity say thou, that I know full certainly.
Thy black ship, took he her perforce 'gainst the will of thee,
Or freely didst thou give her, since with words therefor he prayed?"
Then Noemon, son of Phronius, he answered him and said:
"I gave him the same of my freewill; for how otherwise might one fare
When such a man so craved it with his soul so laden with care?
For hard it is such asking and such a gift to gainsay.
But the swains who are his fellows are the best, were we away,
Amid all the folk. Now I noted their Captain aboard, and he
Was Mentor, or else some God e'en as like to him as may be.
And thereat indeed I wonder, for at day-dawn yesterday
I saw the goodly Mentor, though to Pylos by then on his way."

So he spake, and away he wended toward his father's house and hall;
But those twain, a great amazement on their haughty souls 'gan fall;
And they set down the Wooers together, and their game and their play they
And Antinoüs, son of Eupithes, a word amid them spake,

Sore grieved, and his blackened heart was fulfilled with monstrous ire, brake,
And the eyes of him moreover were like to a flaming fire.

"Out on it! great is the deed, and done high-handedly,
Telemachus he and his journey! and we deemed it would not be.
In despite of us all hath the youngling departed just e'en as he would,
And hath hauled down his ship and hath chosen from the folk all the better

than good.

Now a waxing ill shall he be henceforth; and may Zeus o'erthrow
His might ere a heavy trouble he fashion for us to grow.
But a swift-sailing ship and a crew of twenty give ye to me,
That I may waylay his goings and watch the frith of sea
Betwixt Ithaca the island and Samos' craggy shore.
So, sailing after his father, may he hap on troubles sore."

He spake, and all yeasaid him, and egged on his intent,
And all they straight arising to the house of Odysseus went.
But no long while it was ere their word Penelope knew,

And the deed that the Wooers devised in the depths of their soul to do.
For Medon the herald told her, who a word.thereof did win
As he stood without the forecourt while they wove the rede within.
So through the house with the tidings to Penelope he ran,
And e'en as he went o'er the threshold she spake unto the man:
"Herald, and why have the Wooers, the high-born, sent thee forth?
Is it to bid the handmaids of Odysseus, the mighty of worth,

To cease from their work, for them the feast and the banquet to set?
Would that they wooed me no more, nor gathered anywhere met!
Would that the last and the latest of feasts they had feasted here!
Ah ye, that gathered together such plenteous life-store wear
Of Telemachus wise-hearted, never yet then have ye heard,
When little ye were, your fathers of aforetime tell the word
Of what a man was Odysseus among the men of their day.
How no man of the folk would he wrong, and no word of unright would say.
Howbeit 'tis ever the fashion of holy kings and great
That this one will they love of manfolk, and that other one will they hate.
But he to no man ever did any deed of unright

But for you, your shameless souls are shown and come to light:
Nor forsooth doth all well-doing the fruit of kindness bear."

Then Medon, skilled in prudence, thuswise he answered her:
"Ah well it were, O Queen, that this were the worst of the ill;
But indeed a grievous matter, a thing more grievous still,
These Wooers are now devising: may Zeus not bring it to pass!
For Telemachus now are they eager to slay with the whetted brass,
As he wendeth hither homeward; for he went of his father to hear,
To Pylos exceeding goodly, and Lacedæmon the fair."

So he spake, and her knees were loosened and the heart within her failed,
And a long while over her mouth the speechlessness prevailed,
And her eyes were filled with tears and her full sweet voice fell dead.
But at last she spake with words, and answered him and said:
"Herald, why then went my child, and wherefore needed he
To fare on the ships swift-sailing that to men are the steeds of the sea,
And over the mighty waste of the wallow of waters they wend?
Doth he so that his name among manfolk may perish and come to an end?"
But her then Medon answered, in prudence skilled and good:
"I wot not if one of the Godfolk hath urged him, or his own mood
Drave him on to fare unto Pylos some tidings thence to get
If his father were wending homeward, or what fateful doom he hath met."
So speaking, straight he departed to the house of Odysseus the fair:
But soul-wasting grief enwrapped her, nor yet in any chair
Did she endure to be sitting, though her house had many an one.
On the threshold of her chamber much-wrought she sat her down
And piteously bewailed her, and around moaned her handmaids there,
As many of young or of old as about the homestead were.
To these amidst plenteous wailing thus spake Penelope:

'Hearken, O friends! the Olympian much grief hath given to me
Beyond all other women that with me were born and bred:
For first my glorious husband, the lion-heart, is dead,
Bright with all worth and valour past every Danaan man,
Whose fame was abroad in Hellas and through mid Argos ran:
And now my son beloved from our halls have the whirlwinds rent,
And no tidings left: for I knew not the hour when he hastened and went.
O cruel! that none among you should have had the thought in her head,
Though well ye knew what was toward, to lead me forth from my bed

In that nick of time when the youngling on his hollow black ship went;
For I, if I had wotted that on such a way he was bent,
Then verily had I stayed him for as fain of the road as he were,
Or dead should he have left me in these halls of the homestead here.
But now let a handy swain bid Dolius hither to come,
The thrall that my father gave me when here I was wending home,
And who keepeth my orchard of trees, that as swift as may be done
He sit beside Laertes and tell him how all hath gone,
If he in his mind mayhappen may weave some rede of avail,
And going out mid the people 'gainst those may raise the wail,
Who his seed and the seed of Odysseus the godlike are eager to slay."
But her loved nurse Euryclea in turn did answer and say:
"Dear Queen, now whether thou slay me straightway with the ruthless sword,
Or let me live on in the homestead, from thee will I hide no word.
For of all these things have I wotted, and all that he bade me I gave,
Both bread and honey-sweet wine; but a great oath of me did he have
To tell thee nothing hereof till the twelfth day came to hand,
Or till thou thyself hadst lacked him and hadst heard of him leaving the land;
Lest thou mar thy lovely body with weeping and with woe.
But now wash thee and on thy body the clean fair raiment do,
And up to thy bower aloft with thine handmaids wend thy way,
And there to Athene, the Daughter of Zeus the Shielded, pray:
For She is the one who may save him, yea, e'en from the very death.
Nor trouble an old man's trouble, for my mind to me nowise saith
That the happy Gods are hating all this Arcesius' seed:
But there shall yet be abiding one man to hold at need
These great high-builded houses and the fat fields far from here."
So saying she lulled her wailing and stanched her eyes of the tear;
So she washed her and on her body the raiment clean she cast,
And up to her bower aloft with her handmaids then she passed,
And she set the meal in the maund, and thus to Athene she prayed:

"Hear me, O Seed of the Shielded, of Zeus, thou untamed Maid!
If ever Odysseus the Shifty within these halls hath burned
Fat thighs of ox and of sheep, thereto let thy mind be turned;
And thereof for my sake be mindful and save my son lest he die,
And ward him from these my Wooers of the evil hearts and high!"

She cried out as she spake, and the Goddess was hearkening her prayer and her need.

But great in the shadowy hall was the din of the Wooers indeed,
And thus would one say to another of those young o'erweening men:
"This Queen of the many Wooers dights the wedding for us then,
But nought of the bane is she wotting that is fated for her son."

Thus would he say, not knowing what Fate was speeding on.

But Antinoüs took up the word and spake in their midst again:
"Now once for all, good fellows, from o'erweening words refrain,
Lest some one fetch and carry the tidings there within.
Now let us arise in silence, and the tale and device let us win
Which unto us all, we Wooers, has seemed so good and fair.

So saying, he chose out twenty of the best of those that were there.
To the ship swift-sailing they hastened, and down to the shore of the sea.
And first adown to the deeps they hauled her there to be,
While in her, the coal-black ship, the masts and the sails they set,
And into the leathern rowlocks the oars withal did they get,
And fitted all in order, and the white sails hoisted abroad.
Then the high-souled swains of service brought them their arms aboard,
And in the deep they moored her and went up one and all;
And therewith they gat them to supper and abode till night should fall.
But in her upper chamber all-wise Penelope lay,
And fasting of meat and of drink she pondered either way,
Whether her noble son should yet escape his bane,
Or whether by those Wooers the masterful he should be slain.
As amidst the thronging menfolk a lion broods o'er his fear,
Whenso all round about him they draw the ring and the snare,
In such wise did she ponder till sleep on her did fall,
And she slept as aback she lay, and her limbs slacked one and all.
But the Grey-eyed, the Goddess Athene, of other matters thought,
And an image and a seeming in the shape of a woman she wrought,
Iphthime Icarius' daughter, the high-souled; her did wed
Eumelus, who in Pherae upheld his house and stead.
To the house of Odysseus the goodly she sped this thing away,
That Penelope's sore sorrow and heart-grief she should stay,
And might stay the weeping and wailing wherewith she made lament
So into the sleeping-chamber by the thong of the latch it went,
And above her head did it stand and this word began to say:

"O Penelope, then thou sleepest with sorrowing heart alway?
But the Gods who live so softly will nowise have thee mourn
And weep in thine affliction; for thy son doth now return,
Since indeed against the Godfolk no trespasser is he."

But therewithal thus answered the wise Penelope
As she slept exceeding sweetly within the dreamy door:
"Why comest thou hither, my sister? since never yet before
Hast thou come here; for thou dwellest in a house far far apart.
Now thou biddest me cease from lamenting, and my weary grief of heart,
Wherewith in all unrest my mind and my soul are tossed.
But first my glorious husband, the lion-heart, have I lost,
Adorned with worth and valour o'er every Danaan man,
Whose fame was abroad in Hellas and through mid Argos ran.
And now my son beloved, in the hollow ship hath gone!
A child! who of toil or of Councils scant knowledge yet hath won.
And for him more than my husband do I sorrow, for I fear,
And sore I tremble about him, lest some evil fate he bear
Amid the folk he hath gone to, or perchance upon the sea;
For many foemen about him are devising craftily,
And are eager for his slaughter ere he come to his fatherland."
But the shadowy image answered and spake whence it did stand:
"Heart-up! nor thy mind be holding so utterly in fear;
For such a guide was with him as all men everywhere
Would crave to have beside them, and She hath might thereto.
And She is Pallas Athene, and it pitieth Her of thy woe.
And now hath She sent me hither to speak this word to thee."
But therewith spake and answered all-wise Penelope:
"Now if of God thou art, and the voice of God hast heard,
I pray thee of Him the Hapless tell me another word,
Whether he yet is living and beholding the light of the sun,
Or down in the House of Hades dwells dead with his life-days done?"

But withal the shadowy image thus answered her and said:
"I will not tell thee throughly if the man be alive or dead;
For ill it is to babble a windy tale, and vain."

Therewith by the bolt of the doorpost it drew away again,
And passed into the breath of the wind: but Icarius' daughter withal
BOOK IV.
Roused her awhile from slumber and joy on her heart did fall,
So clear was the dream that came to her when the night was deep and dead.
But the Wooers went a shipboard and o'er the wet ways sped,
And in their minds were they brooding for Telemachus' baleful bane.

A certain island is there rock-built in the midst of the main,
Midways 'twixt the Ithacan land and Samos craggy and bare:
It is Asteris called, nor is great: but it hath an haven fair,
Two-mouthed, and those Achæans they lay a lurking there.