Book III

OUT of the rosily-flushing sea did the new sun spring,
To the burnished heaven up-rushing, the light of his glory to bring
To the deathless Gods on high, and to mortals on earth corn-growing;
And to Pylos the ship drew nigh, to the city beautiful-showing.
And it chanced that the folk of the land even then did a sacrifice bring,
Black bulls to bleed on the strand to the Dark-haired Earth-shaking King.
Great companies ranged there were nine, five hundred in each sat there,
And in front of each long line nine bulls for the offering there were.
They had tasted the sacrifice, to the God were they burning the thighs,
When the galley ran in full sail, and her canvas the shipman-band
Did up to the yard-arm brail, and they moored her, and stepped on land.
Came Telemachus down by the side of the ship,—but Athene led;
And the Goddess flashing-eyed thus first to Telemachus said:
“Thou needest not shame, Telemachus, more, neither shrinking fear;
For to this end over the sea hast thou sailed, of thy father to hear,
Where earth hath hidden his bones, and how he hath come by his fate.
Come then, unto Nestor the tamer of war-steeds go thou straight;
Let us see whether knowledge or counsel in that breast hidden may be;
And no false tale shall be his, for exceeding wise is he.”
Then wise-witted Telemachus doubtfully answered her there:
“Mentor, how shall I go, and in what guise make my prayer?
Not yet am I skilled to know how the words of the wise should be said:
There needs must be shame when the young man speaks to the hoary head.”
Answered him Pallas, she of the steel-grey-gleaming eyes:
“Telemachus, some right thoughts from the springs of thy breast shall arise,
And others a God shall put therein, for surely, I ween,
Overwatched by the grace of the skies thy birth and thy nurture have been.”
Then Pallas Athene led the way, from the shore as she passed
Full swiftly, and after her sped the son of Odysseus fast.
And they came unto where the throng of the folk and the seats were found.
There sat Nestor among his sons, and his henchmen around
Were roasting collops of meat, and were setting more on the spit.
And seeing the strangers stand, around them gathered the throng,
And, reaching the welcoming hand, bade sit the feasters among.
And the first that drew nigh these two was Peisistratus, Nestor’s son;
And he took their hands, and he drew them to soft fleece-seats, and thereon
Made them sit at the feast, while the tide to their feet in silver rolled,
In the place of honour, beside his brother and father old.
And the sacrifice-morsels to each did he give, and the wine he poured
Into chalice of gold, and ’gan reach it forth with the greeting word,
Unto Pallas addressing his speech, the child of the Aegis-lord:
“Pray now, O guest, to Poseidon the king, as is meet and right,
For that he is the God upon whose high feast ye have chanced to light:
And when thou hast poured the libation, and brought the prayer to an end,
Pass thou thereafter the chalice of honey-sweet wine to thy friend
To pour: he too, I ween, to the deathless Gods doth pray,
Since all men stand in need of the high Gods day by day.
But, for he of mine age should be, and thou art reverend-old,
Therefore to thee will I first reach forth the goblet of gold.”
Then the chalice of wine with the word to the Goddess’s hands did he reach:
And Athene rejoiced as she heard that wise one’s rightful speech,
Because that he first should bring unto her the chalice of gold:
And straight to Poseidon the King did she put up the prayer manifold:
“Hearken, Poseidon, thou Girder of Earth, and do not spare
To bring unto prosperous ends these things that we ask in prayer.
First unto Nestor and these his sons renown do thou give,
And then may the rest of the people a recompense fair receive,
Even all the Pylian folk, for their splendid hecatomb.
Grant that Telemachus also and I may with joy go home,
Having prospered in that which hath brought us in swift ship over the foam.”
So did the Goddess crave, but herself was fulfilling her prayer;
And straight to Telemachus gave she the double chalice fair.
Then did he her petition repeat, that son of a hero-sire.
And when they had roasted the meat, and had drawn all back from the fire,
They divided to each his share, and they nobly feasted there.
But so soon as desire of food and of drink had been put from their breasts,
Gerenia’s horseman good, old Nestor, spake to his guests:
“Now is it seemlier, I wis, to ask of a stranger wight
Who he may be, when thus he hath tasted the feast’s delight.
Who are ye, strangers, and whence have ye sailed o’er the ways of the sea?
Are ye such as fare upon traffic, or wander ye recklessly
Over the waves, as they that go roving, a pirate band,
Risking their lives, bringing bane unto others of alien land? “
So Telemachus wise of wit unto him made answer again,
And boldly he uttered it, for Athene heartened him then,
That news of his sire he might learn, for whom did his heart sore yearn,
And might win fair fame and a glorious name with the sons of men:
“O Nestor, Neleus’ son, the Achaeans’ glory thou,
Thou enquirest whence we be come, and behold, I will tell thee now.
From Ithaca come we, the isle overshadowed by Neion’s peak:
Mine own, and not of my folk, is the matter whereof I speak.
For tidings I come of my far-famed sire, if hear it I may,
Even godlike Odysseus, the steadfast-hearted, of whom men say
That he fought by thy side with the Trojans, and laid their city low.
For, as touching all the rest that fought with the Trojan foe,
We have heard where perished in mournful destruction each of the men;
But the son of Kronos hath hidden Odysseus’ doom from our ken;
Seeing no man is able to tell us for certain what time he died,
Whether on land borne down by the sweep of the battle’s tide,
Or whelmed in the broken surge mid the sea-plains measureless-wide, go
Therefore we come to thy knees, and beseech thee now to declare
The mournful destruction that lighted upon him, if anywhere
Thou hast seen this thing with thine eyes, or hast heard the tale of another
That hath roamed:—for my sire above all men was born unto woe of his mother.
Speak no smooth word out of care for my pain, or of pity now,
But frankly declare unto me, hast anywhere seen him, and how?
I beseech thee, if ever my father Odysseus the valiant in fight
By word or by deed kept troth unto thee and covenant-plight
In Troy-land, wherein ye Achaeans long time suffered woe upon woe,
Remember it now, I entreat thee, and tell to me all thou dost know.”
And to him Gerenia’s horseman Nestor answered again:
“Friend, since thou hast called to my mind the cup of the sorrow and pain
Which Achaia’s mightiest there to the dregs were constrained to drain,
Both all we endured in the ships on the face of the misty sea,
When led by Achilles hither and thither for spoil roamed we,
And all the fights that we fought round Priam’s town in the plain,
Till at last it had come to pass that our mightiest all lay slain:—
There lieth Ajax the warrior wight, Achilles is there,
There is Patroclus, whose words had weight as a God he were;
There lieth mine own dear son Antilochus princely and strong,
Matchless in swiftness of foot, and good in the battle-throng.
Ah, many the ills beside that there unto us befell!
Who among mortal men the tale of them all could tell?
Though thou shouldst tarry till five long years, yea six, were flown,
And ask of the ills that the godlike Achaeans there have known,
Ere I had done thou wouldst homeward have wended, thy patience gone.
For nine years’ space in devising mischief against them we passed
By all manner of wiles, and Zeus accomplished it hardly at last.
There never against Odysseus had any man power or will
In counsel to match himself, for he had the pre-eminence still
In all manner of wiles, thy father—if offspring of him thou art
In very deed; as I gaze, amazement hath filled mine heart!
For surely thy words have the selfsame ring, and strange of a truth
Doth it seem that the sage’s speech should be found on the lips of the youth.
Now the godlike Odysseus and I, through all the years we were there,
Never in folkmote or council of princes at variance were,
But ever in spirit consenting, in wisdom of counsel one,
Devised we that all in the Argive cause for the best should be done.
But when the high-built city of Priam in ashes lay,
We sailed in the ships, and a God dispersed the Argive array.
Ah then did Zeus ordain a sorrowful homeward way
For the Argives, by reason that some of us outrage and folly had wrought.
For this cause many an one to an evil doom was brought
By the wrath of the Mighty-fathered, the Maid of the fierce grey eyes,
Who ’twixt Atreus’ sons and the rest of the host made strife to arise.
And the two kings unto a folkmote called the Achaeans all
Recklessly, not in the order meet, for the evenfall;
For heavy with wine did the sons of the Argives assemble thither:
And these twain wrangled concerning the matter that brought them together.
There Menelaus spake to the sons of Achaia his rede
In no wise to tarry, but over the broad sea-ridges to speed.
But it pleased Agamemnon not; he would hear none other advice
But to keep the people, and offer a hecatomb-sacrifice,
To the end that from terrible wrath Athene might so relent,—
Ah fool!—for he knew not this, that her purpose would not be bent;
For the mind of the Gods everlasting not lightly doth change or repent.
So with hot wild words and bitter they answered each other like foes,
And the well-greaved host of Achaeans with thunder of shouting uprose,
And over division and strife did the shadows of nightfall close.
So in sleep hate-haunted and nursing of grudges the night-hours passed;
For Zeus was bringing destruction, our doom was approaching fast.
And at dawn some drew their galleys down to the mighty sea,
And our goods, and the spoil, and the deep-girt women therein stowed we.
But half of the host hung back from the sea, and they went not away,
By king Agamemnon, his people’s shepherd, constrained to stay.
But the rest of us boarded the galleys, and sailed o’er the face of the deep
Swiftly, a God’s power lulling the restless billows to sleep.
And to Tenedos came we, and there to the Gods did our altar-fires burn,
As homeward bound; but Zeus not yet would have us return,
For he cruelly stirred up amongst us an evil contention again;
So some on the backward track went sailing over the main:
With Odysseus the manifold-counselled shrewd-souled king were they gone,
To show kindness again unto Lord Agamemnon, Atreus’ son.
But I, along with the crowd of the galleys that followed me still,
Fled, for mine heart foreboded that Gods were plotting us ill.
Fled, leaving his comrades, Tydeus’ son the warrior wight.
And late Menelaus the golden-haired followed after our flight;
And in Lesbos he found us, debating the long home-voyage the while,
Whether to stand out west of Chios’ rugged isle,
Or in towards Psyria’s islet, but still to the right of it bearing,
Or under Chios to sail, by gusty Mimas faring.
And we prayed to the Sea-god to show us a sign, and he heard our prayer,
And he bade us furrow the midst of the sea, to Euboea to fare,
The sooner to flee from the evil to come, from the ruin-snare.
And there sprang up a shrill-blowing breeze, and the galleys, in swift-borne flight,
Sped over the sea-beast-haunted ways, and ran with the night
Under Geraestus, and there to Poseidon sacrificed we,
Offering bulls, in thanks for crossing the mighty sea.
And now was the fourth day come, when at Argos Tydeus’ son,
Horse-quelling Diomed, anchored his galleys, their sea-flight done.
But I held on in my course unto Pylos, nor ever the breeze
Died, when once the Gods had sent it abroad on the seas.
So came I, and heard not of him, dear son, nor aught can I tell
Which of the rest of us ’scaped—who into destruction fell.
But what tidings soe’er, in mine halls as I sit, may have come unto me
Thou shalt learn, as is meet and right, and I will not hide it from thee.
They say that the Myrmidon spears on the home-track safely sped
Whom the glorious son of Achilles the mighty-hearted led:
Home came Philoctetes withal, old Poeas’ glorious son;
And Idomeneus safe with his hosts unto Crete their fatherland won.
So came they safe from the war, and the sea swallowed up of them none.
But of Atreus’ son thou hast certainly heard in thy far-away home,
How he came, how Aegisthus contrived against him a wretched doom.
But verily he for his deed did a bitter requital receive.
Behold, how good it is for a man at his dying to leave
A son; for Orestes it was which gave his iniquity’s hire
To Aegisthus the treacherous-souled, who had murdered his glorious sire.
And thou, my friend, who art stately of form and goodly of face,
Be valiant, and they that are yet to be born shall speak thy praise.”
Then unto him wise-witted Telemachus answering spoke:
“O Nestor, Neleus’ son, high glory of Argive folk,
Yea surely that son hath avenged him: the sons of Achaia shall bear
Far and wide through the earth his renown, which the yet unborn shall hear.
But O that the Gods upon me would bestow so much of might
That for outrage and arrogance foul I might yon suitors requite,
Who with insolent scorn are devising against me mischief and spite!
Ah me! but the Gods with the threads of my life never spun such bliss
For my father and me; and now must I patiently bear all this.”
Answered him then Gerenia’s horseman, Nestor the old:
“Friend, since thou hast put me in mind, and of this thy trouble hast told,—
They say that because of thy mother many a suitor still
In thy palace in thy despite is working his evil will.
Tell me, art thus overborne of thy will, or have thy folk
Been driven to hate thee by some dire word that an oracle spoke?
Who knoweth but he may return and requite their deeds some day,
Either himself alone, or with all the Achaean array?
But O that Athene the grey-eyed would so be a friend unto thee
As when for the glorious Odysseus she cared so exceedingly
In Troy-land, where the Achaeans were harassed with woe upon woe,—
For ne’er had I yet seen Gods their favour so openly show
As when Pallas openly stood by his side upon Ilium’s shore.
If she would show thee the love that of old to thy father she bore,
These suitors should start from their dreams, and should think of the marriage no more.”
Then unto him made answer Telemachus prudent in mind:
“Old sire, not soon, I trow, shall the hope fulfilment find;
For a great thing and hard hast thou said: amazement my bosom doth fill:
Not for this would I hope, no, not though a God should declare it his will.”
But Athene with eyes grey-gleaming took up the word and said:
“Telemachus, what is the word through the fence of thy teeth that hath fled?
With ease shall a God, if he will, bring a man from afar safe home.
But for me, many woes would I suffer content, so at last I might come
Safe to my day of return, and might win to mine home again,
Rather than lightly come back, on mine own hearth-stone to be slain,
As he by his wife’s and Aegisthus’ treachery wretchedly died.
But from death, from the lot that to all men on earth must needs betide,
Not even the Gods can save a man that they love, in the day
When the doom of the outstretcher death cometh on him and snatcheth away.”
Then unto her wise-witted Telemachus answering spake:
“Mentor, of this no more let us speak, though our sad hearts ache.
Of a surety he shall return nevermore, but in very deed
Already his death’s black doom have the Deathless Ones decreed.
But now am I fain that Nestor another story would tell,
Seeing he knoweth the ways and the thoughts of men full well;
For three generations, they say, hath he ruled, and his days thrice told;
Wherefore he seemeth to me as a deathless one to behold.
O Nestor, Neleus’ son, give an answer of truth, I pray:
How died Agamemnon Atreus’ son of the wide-spread sway?
Menelaus—where was he then? and what was the death whereby
The traitor brought it to pass that a mightier than he should die?
Was it not in the land of Argos, but wandering otherwhere
That he found him, and gathered up courage for once, and slew him there? “
And Gerenia’s horseman Nestor answered the hero-youth:
“Lo now, my son, I will tell, as thou biddest me, naught save truth. ‘
As touching what might have been, the thing that thou deemest is true;
For if that Aegisthus alive, in the halls of the man that he slew,
By golden-haired Menelaus, returning from Troy, had been found,
Over his bones men never had heaped the sepulchre-mound,
But the dogs and the birds had devoured his carrion above the ground,
Cast out of the city: no daughter of Greece to his shade had brought
Solace of tears; for a horrible deed was this that he wrought.
For we were afar, achieving many a gallant deed:
He, dwelling at ease in a corner of Argos the nurse of the steed,
With enticing words strove ever the queen from her troth to win.
In sooth, long time she refused to stoop to the shame and the sin,
For virtue and wisdom had not yet fled Clytemnestra’s breast,
And a bard was beside her, to whom full many a careful behest
Gave Atreides, to guard his wife, ere Troyward he passed from his hall.
But at last, when the doom of the Gods had ensnared her, to yield and to fall,
Then that minstrel away to a desert isle bore he,
And left him there, a prey and a spoil unto vultures to be;
And with joy the consenting adulteress home to his palace he led,
And with fat of many a victim the fires of the altars he fed:
Many gifts hung he up of loomwork and gold the temples within,
For the dread deed done, for the prize he never had hoped to win.
But we were sailing together, from Troy o’er the sea as we came,
Menelaus and I, our hearts at one, and our purpose the same.
But when unto Sunium, Attica’s sacred cape, we had won,
Then Phoebus Apollo fell on the helmsman of Atreus’ son;
And he loosed a painless shaft from the string, and he slew the man
Even as he held in his hands the helm of the ship as she ran,
Phrontes, the son of Onetor; unmatched among men was he
To steer the galley, when hurricane-blasts are wild on the sea.
So the king must needs tarry there, howsoever he yearned for the way,
Until he should bury his comrade, and all the death-rites pay.
But when now Menelaus at last, as he sped o’er the face of the deep,
In his hollow galleys was come to Maleia’s headland steep,
Then far-seeing Zeus made bitter his way, with a purpose fell;
For he poured down upon him the blast of the winds and the hurricane’s yell,
Lashing the waves and upheaving a measureless mountain-swell.
And he scattered the ships, and some unto Crete were constrained to go,
Where dwell the Cydonian folk, where Iardanus’ waters flow.
And there is a smooth rock, sheer to the water descending down,
In the midst of the misty sea, at the verge of Gortyna town.
There, by the wind from the west, is a vast surge hurled on the rock
Phaestum-wards, but the barrier breaketh the cataract-shock.
There were the ships cast: hardly the shipmen their souls delivered
From death, but the ships on the reef by the breakers were dashed and shivered.
But the rush of the stormy winds and the sweep of the waters bore
Five dark-prowed ships that were left away unto Egypt’s shore.
So abundance of spoil and of gold by the hero was swept together,
As he roamed with his galleys to alien peoples, hither and thither,
The while these horrible deeds by Aegisthus at home were wrought;
For he slew Agamemnon, and under his yoke were the people brought.
Seven years in Mycene the city of gold did the murderer reign;
But at last, in the eighth, Orestes the godlike came for his bane,
Returning from Athens town; and he gave his iniquity’s hire
To Aegisthus the treacherous-souled who murdered his glorious sire.
He slew him: thereafter a funeral feast for the Argives he spread,
For the hateful unmotherly mother and dastard Aegisthus dead.
On the selfsame day Menelaus returned to his fatherland-shore,
And of gathered booty a mighty burden his galleys bore.
And thou, my friend, not long from thy dwelling afar do thou roam,
Forsaking thy substance and those proud men that are haunting thine home,
Lest in their arrogance all the things that are thine they divide,
And devour them, and so shalt thou on a bootless journey have hied.
First seek Menelaus: this is my counsel and this my command;
For he hath but lately returned unto Greece from a far-away land,
From a country and people from whence one never would hope to win back,
If once the tempestuous winds should have beaten him out of his track
On to a great wide sea whence not in the self-same year
Even birds return: it is measureless-vast, a thing of fear.
But now go thither with galley and shipmates over the wave;
Or, if thou wouldst journey by land, a chariot and steeds shalt thou have;
And with thee shall go my sons, and shall bring thee upon thy way,
Unto Sparta, wherein Menelaus the golden-haired bears sway.
Thou pray him thyself, to the end he may tell all truth unto thee;
And no false tale shall be his, for exceeding wise is he.”
Then the sun went down, and gathered the shades of the eventide;
And spake the Mighty-fathered, Athene the flashing-eyed:
“Old sire, right fitly spoken are all these sayings of thine.
But come now, sever the tongues of the victims, and mingle the wine,
That so to Poseidon and all the Deathless Ones we may pour,
And betake us unto our rest, for now is it time therefor;
For already the light into darkness hath faded, and seemly is it
Now to return, nor long at the feast of the Gods to sit.”
So the Daughter of Zeus spake there, and they hearkened to that which she said.
And the water the henchmen bare, and over their hands they shed.
And the boys with the red wine filled the bowls, till the brims were crowned,
And they served, till the guests had spilled the sacrifice-drops all round;
And they cast the tongues in the fire, and they rose, and poured the libation.
So when to their hearts’ desire they had drunken, to end the oblation,
Pallas Athene then and Telemachus, godlike wight,
Set their faces again to return to the ship for the night.
But Nestor with eager words spake out, his guests to recall:
“Now Zeus and the rest of the Gods forbid that this should befall,
That ye should depart from mine house to go to the ship to lie down,
As though from a garment-lacking poverty-stricken clown
Whose dwelling provided of mantles and rugs but scant supply
Whereon himself and his guests for slumber might softly lie.
Good sooth, but with me there be mantles and beautiful rugs enow,
And the son of such as Odysseus shall verily never go
To lay him down on the deck of a galley, so long as I live,
Or after my death my sons be left in mine hails to receive
Guests, and to all to my palace that come brave welcome to give.”
Then unto him replied Athene the flashing-eyed:
“Yea, this that thou sayest is right, old sire, and befitting it is
That Telemachus hearken to thee, for far more seemly were this.
Now then let him follow with thee, to the end that this night he may lie
Within thine halls, but unto the swift black galley will I,
To hearten my comrades, and tell them all that it needeth to do,
Seeing that I am the one old man amid all the crew,
But the others be younger men, that for love have followed with us,
Of the selfsame age as the mighty-hearted Telemachus.
There will I lie this night, but with dawn I will up and depart,
Speeding my course to the folk Cauconian mighty of heart.
There have I a debt that is due unto me, nor of late nor small.
But as touching this my friend who is come to thy palace-hall,
Send him on with thy son, and the chariot and horses give for his need,
Of all thine horses the chiefest in strength, the swiftest in speed.”
So ended the Goddess her say, and Pallas Athene was gone
Like an osprey darting away, and amazement seized each one;
And the old man marvelled to see that portent divine and dread,
And Telemachus’ hand grasped he, and, full of the wonder, he said:
“O friend, thou shalt not be a dastard or weakling in life’s full day,
If now, in the days of thy youth, Gods bring thee upon thy way.
For none other of all in the halls of Olympus that dwell is this
Save the Daughter of Zeus, the glorious Trito-born, I wis,
Who honoured thine hero-sire ’mid the Argives, years ago.
O Queen, be gracious, and goodly renown upon me bestow!
For myself and my children and reverend wife I petition now;
And I will offer to thee a broad-browed yearling cow
Unbroken, which under the yoke no man ever yet hath led;
Such an one will I sacrifice, and the horns shall be gold-overspread.”
From the heavens right graciously bent Athene to hear him pray.
From the shore thereafter they went, and the ancient led the way;
And his sons and his marriage-kin followed after the old man there.
So when they had entered into the palace stately and fair,
In order they sat them down upon couch and on carven seat,
And for them did the old man crown with the mingled wine honey-sweet
The bowl, and rich was the scent of the grape’s blood, ten years old
Or ever the stewardess rent from the jar the lid-veil’s fold.
So, mingling the wine and the water, with many a prayer he poured
To Athene, the mighty daughter of Zeus the Aegis-lord.
And when, the libations done, they had drunk to their hearts’ content,
Away to his home each one to his rest through the gloaming went.
And Telemachus went thereupon with Nestor, Gerenia’s knight;
And he led the beloved son of Odysseus the godlike wight
Unto a carven bed ’neath the echoing porch that stood;
And beside it the couch was spread of Peisistratus, war-chief good,
In the halls of his father who tarried, as youths wont ere they be married.
And Nestor’s queen the while the couch of the old king shared,
In a chamber of that proud pile, which the hands of the wife had prepared.
Rose-fingered from mists of the night sprang Dawn, and the shadows fled;
And straightway the sacred might of Nestor arose from his bed.
And forth of his hall hath he passed, and he sitteth in solemn state
On the polished stone seats fast by the lofty palace-gate,
White, with the oil’s smooth sheen: enthroned on them once had been
Neleus,—whose words had weight as the words of a very God;
But he, overmastered by fate, had passed into Hades’ abode,—
But Nestor now, of the land of Achasans the warder strong:
And his sceptre he held in his hand, and his sons gathered round in a throng,
As forth out of chamber and hall Echephron and Stratius strode,
Perseus, Aretus, and tall Thrasybulus like to a god.
Came Peisistratus after the rest, the youngest, stalwart and fair;
And they brought and they seated their guest the godlike Telemachus there.
Then unto these spake Nestor, Gerenia’s horseman good:
“Hearken, beloved sons, that the thing may be done that I would,
That Athene the first of the Gods I now may propitiate,
Who revealed herself unto me at the feast of the Gods so late.
Let one of you go to the plain, a heifer to choose for our need.
That without delay she may come, and the neatherd may drive her with speed.
And let one go down to the shore, and hitherward bring the crew
Of Telemachus mighty-hearted, and leave with the galley but two.
Let another call hither the craftsman Laerkes the worker in gold,
Who with beaten foil thereof the victim’s horns shall enfold.
And the rest of you all tarry here, and withal let the maidens be told
To ply in the palace their toils, and array the banquet cheer.
Be the seats prepared, and the wood, and the water sparkling clear.”
So they all made haste to obey: from the plain was the heifer brought:
And forthwith hasted away from the swift keel shapely-wrought
Great-hearted Telemachus’ band; and the smith from his forge did depart,
And he came thither, bearing in hand the brazen tools of his art;
With anvil and hammer came he, and the pincers of cunning mould
Wherewith ever craftsmanly he fashioned the beautiful gold.
And Athene came down from the skies to accept the sacrifice.
And Nestor the grand old knight provided the gold, wherewith
In a sheath all glittering bright the horns were encased by the smith,
To be for the Goddess a fair and acceptable offering.
And Echephron and Stratius there by the horns did the heifer bring,
And, with lustral water in basin with figures of flowers wrought o’er,
From his chamber Aretus did hasten, the while his left hand bore
The sacred grain in a maund: Thrasymedes stood by in his might
With the keen-cutting axe in his hand wherewith the heifer to smite:
With a bowl did Perseus stand: and the old man washed for the rite;
And the sacred barley he shed, and he cried to Athene in prayer,
And he clipped from the victim’s head and cast on the fire the hair.
And so soon as the prayer was done, and the offering of grain had been made,
Nestor’s stalwart son Thrasymedes drew nigh with the blade;
And he swung it aloft, and he strake: the neck-sinew asunder did fly,.
And the strength of the beast it brake, and the women with joyful cry
Raised sacrificial acclaim, each princess, virgin and dame,
And the old king’s reverend spouse, as she stood by the rite divine,
The daughter of Clymenus’ house, the child of a princely line.
And the beast from the green earth then they upraised, as it nervelessly quivered,
And Peisistratus, chieftain of men, the throat with a swift stroke severed;
And the dark blood followed the stroke, and fled from the bones the life.
And the carcase thereafter they broke, full orderly plying the knife.
And the bones of the thighs they cut out, and, doubly folding it over,
With the fat they wrapt them about, and with pieces of flesh did they cover.
And the sire laid all on the wood, and he poured bright wine on the brands,
While beside him the young men stood with the altar-forks in their hands.
And after the sacrifice, and the tasting of entrails due,
The rest into pieces they slice, and they run the long spits through.
So they roasted the meats on the pointed spits, and the roast they withdrew.
But Telemachus passed, in the care of the old king’s youngest daughter,
Polycaste the princess fair, to the laver of steaming water.
And when she had bathed him, and bright on his limbs did the oil-gleam shine,
In beautiful mantle she dight him and tunic woven fine:
And forth of the bath he hied him, in form like the Gods to behold,
And he sat by Nestor’s side, his people’s shepherd old.
And when they had roasted the meats, and made end of preparing all,
They feasted enthroned on their seats, and about them henchmen tall
Filled golden cups with the fire-eyed wine that rosily shone.
But when at the last the desire of eating and drinking was done,
To his goodly sons at his side Gerenian Nestor cried:
“Bestir you, my sons, and yoke the fair-maned steeds, that so
Telemachus forth in the car on the way that he would may go.”
Cheerly the youths gave heed to the word that the old man spoke,
And they brought the horses with speed, and they put them under the yoke.
In the car did the stewardess set the bread for the journey, and wine,
And such dainties as princes eat, who be fostered of Zeus the divine.
And Telemachus mounted upon the beautiful chariot then,
And beside him Nestor’s son Peisistratus, chieftain of men,
Mounted the chariot seat, and the reins through his fingers he drew,
And he lashed the coursers fleet, and away and away they flew.
And, the stretch of the wide plain crossing, they left steep Pylos afar.
So all through the day they went tossing the jingling yoke of the car.
And the sun went down, and all the ways were o’ershadowed with gloom;
And they came in the evenfall unto Pherae, Diocles’ home,
Whose father Orsilochus high descent from Alpheius drew.
There for the night did they lie, and he gave them the guest-fare due.
When Dawn from her mist-veil broke with rosily-flushing light,
They put the steeds to the yoke of the chariot cunningly dight.
And forth they dashed to the sound of the porchway echoing round;
And they lashed the coursers fleet: and with right good will they flew.
And they came to the plains of wheat: now nigh to the goal they drew;
So swiftly the good steeds coming had journeyed through those two days.
And the sun went down, and the gloaming shadowed the glimmering ways.