Authors of Greece

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Meanwhile the suitors had learned of the departure of Telemachus and
plotted to intercept him on his return. Their treachery was told to
Penelope, who was utterly undone on hearing it; feeling herself left
without a human protector she prayed to Athena, who appeared to her in
a dream in the likeness of her own sister to assure her that Athena
was watching over her, but refusing to say definitely whether Odysseus
was alive.

The poem at this point takes up the story of Odysseus himself. Going
to the isle where he was held captive, Hermes after admiring its great
beauty delivered Zeus' message to Calypso to let the captive go. She
reproached the gods for their jealousy and reluctantly promised to
obey. She found Odysseus on the shore, eating out his heart in the
desire for his home. When she informed him that she intended to let
him go, he first with commendable prudence made her swear that she did
not design some greater evil for him. Smiling at his cunning, she
swore the most solemn of all oaths to help him, then supplied tools
and materials for the building of his boat. When he was out on the
deep, Poseidon wrecked his craft, but a sea goddess Leucothea, once a
mortal, gave him a scarf to wrap round him, bidding him cast it from
him with his back turned away when he got to land. After two nights
and two days on the deep he at length saw land. Finding the mouth of a
small stream, he swam up it, then utterly weary flung himself down on
a heap of leaves under a bush, guarded by Athena.

The next episode introduces one of the most charming figures in
ancient literature. Nausicaa was the daughter of Alcinous, King of
Phaeacia, on whose island Odysseus had landed. To her Athena appeared
in a dream, bidding her obtain from her father leave to go down to the
sea to wash his soiled garments. The young girl obeyed, telling her
father that it was but seemly that he, the first man in the kingdom,
should appear at council in raiment white as snow. He gave her the
leave she desired. After their work was done, she and her handmaids
began a game of ball; their merry cries woke up Odysseus, who started
up on hearing human voices. Coming forward, he frightened by his
appearance the handmaids, but Nausicaa, emboldened by Athena, stood
still and listened to his story. She supplied him with clean garments
after she had given him food and drink. On the homeward journey
Nausicaa bade Odysseus bethink him of the inconvenient talk which his
presence would occasion if he were seen with her near the city. She
therefore judged it best that she should enter first, at the same time
she gave him full information of the road to the palace; when he
entered it he was to proceed straight to the Queen Arete, whose favour
was indispensable if he desired a return home.

Just outside the city Athena met him in the guise of a girl to tell
him his way; she further cast about him a thick cloud to protect him
from curious eyes. Passing through the King's gardens, which were a
marvel of beauty and fruitfulness, Odysseus entered the palace and
threw his arms in supplication about Arete's knees. She listened
kindly to him and begged Alcinous give him welcome. When all the
courtiers had retired to rest, Arete, noticing that the garments
Odysseus wore had been woven by her own hands, asked him whence he had
them and how he had come to the island. On hearing the story of his
shipwreck Alcinous promised him a safe convoy to his home on the
morrow.

At an assembly Alcinous consulted with his counsellors about Odysseus;
all agreed to help in providing him with a ship and rowers. At a trial
of skill Odysseus, after being taunted by some of the Phaeacians,
hurled the quoit beyond them all. Later, a song of the wooden horse of
Troy moved him to tears; though unnoticed by the others, he did not
escape the eye of Alcinous who bade him tell them plainly who he was.
Then he revealed himself and told the marvellous story of his
wanderings.

First he and his companions reached the land of the Lotus-eaters.
Finding out that the lotus made all who ate it lose their desire for
home, Odysseus sailed away with all speed, forcing away some who had
tasted the plant. Thence they reached the island of the Cyclopes, a
wild race who knew no ordinances; each living in his cave was a law to
himself, caring nothing for the others. Leaving his twelve ships,
Odysseus proceeded with some of his men to the cave of one of the
Cyclopes, a son of Poseidon, taking with him a skin of wine. When the
one-eyed monster returned with his flock of sheep, he shut the mouth
of the cave with a mighty stone which no mortal could move; then
lighting a fire he caught sight of his visitors and asked who they
were. Odysseus answered craftily, whereupon the monster devoured six
of his company. Odysseus opened his wine-skin and offered some of the
wine; when the Cyclops asked his name, Odysseus told him he was called
Noman; in return for his kindness in offering him the strangely sweet
drink the Cyclops promised to eat him last of all. But the wine soon
plunged the monster into a slumber, from which he was awakened by the
burning end of a great stake which Odysseus thrust into his eye. On
hearing his cries of agony the other Cyclopes came to him, but went
away when they heard that Noman was killing him. As it was impossible
for anyone but the Cyclops to open the cave, Odysseus tied his men
beneath the cattle, putting the beast which carried a man between two
which were unburdened; he himself hung on to the ram. As the animals
passed out, the Cyclops was a little surprised that the ram went last,
but thought he did so out of grief for his master. When they were all
safely outside, Odysseus freed his friends and made haste to get to
the ship. Thrusting out, when he was at what seemed a safe distance he
shouted to the Cyclops, who then remembered an old prophecy and hurled
a huge rock which nearly washed them back; a second rock which he
hurled on learning Odysseus' real name narrowly missed the ship. Then
the Cyclops prayed to Poseidon to punish Odysseus; the god heard him,
persecuting him from that time onward. Reassembling his ships,
Odysseus proceeded on his voyage.

He next called at the isle of Aeolus, king of the winds, who gave him
in a bag all the winds but one, a favouring breeze which was to waft
him to his own island. For nine days Odysseus guarded his bag, but at
last, when Ithaca was in sight, he sank into a sleep of exhaustion.
Thinking that the bag concealed some treasure, his men opened it, only
to be blown back to Aeolus who bid him begone as an evil man when he
begged aid a second time.

After visiting the Laestrygones, a man-eating people, who devoured all
the fleet except one ship's company, the remainder reached Aeaea, the
island where lived the dread goddess Circe. Odysseus sent forward
Eurylochus with some twenty companions who found Circe weaving at a
loom. Seeing them she invited them within; then after giving them a
charmed potion she smote them with her rod, turning them into swine.
Eurylochus who had suspected some trickery hurried back to Odysseus
with the news. The latter determined to go alone to save his friends.
On the way he was met by Hermes, who showed him the herb moly, an
antidote to Circe's draught. Finding that her magic failed, she at
once knew that her visitor was Odysseus whose visit had been
prophesied to her by Hermes. He bound her down by a solemn oath to
refrain from further mischief and persuaded her to restore to his men
their humanity. When Odysseus desired to depart home, she told him of
the wanderings that awaited him. First he must go to the land of the
dead to consult the shade of Teiresias, the blind old prophet, who
would help him.

Following the goddess' instructions, they sailed to the land of the
Cimmerians on the confines of the earth. There Odysseus dug a trench
into which he poured the blood of slain victims which he did not allow
the dead spirits to touch till Teiresias appeared. The seer told him
of the sorrows that awaited him and vaguely indicated that his death
should come upon him from the sea; he added that any spirit he allowed
to touch the blood would tell him truly all whereof he was as yet
ignorant, and that those ghosts he drove away would return to the
darkness.

First arose the spirit of his dead mother Anticleia who told him that
his wife and son were yet alive and his father was living away from
the town in wretchedness.

"For me, it was not the visitation of Apollo that took me, nor any
sickness whose corruption drove the life from my frame; rather it
was longing for thee and thy counsels and thy gentleness which
spoiled me of my spirit."

Thrice he tried to embrace her, and thrice the ghost eluded him, for
it was "as a dream that had fled away from the white frame of the
body". A procession of famous women followed, then came the wraith of
Agamemnon who told how he had been foully slain by his own wife, as
faithless as Penelope was prudent. Achilles next approached; when
Odysseus tried to console him for his early death by reminding him of
the honour he had when he was alive, he answered:

"Speak not comfortingly of death; I would rather be a clown and a
thrall on earth to another man than rule among the departed."

On hearing that his son Neoptolemus had won great glory in the capture
of Troy, the spirit left him, exulting with joy that his son was
worthy of him. Ajax turned from Odysseus in anger at the loss of
Achilles' armour for the possession of which they had striven. The
last figure that came was the ghost of Heracles, though the hero
himself was with the gods in Olympus.

"Round him was the whirr of the dead as of birds fleeing in panic.
Like to black night, with his bow ready and an arrow on the string,
he glared about him terribly, as ever intending to shoot. Over his
breast was flung a fearful belt, whereon were graven bears and lions
and fights, battles, murders and man-slayings."

He recognised Odysseus before he passed back to death; when a crowd of
terrifying apparitions came thronging to the trench, Odysseus fled to
his ship lest the Gorgon might be sent from the awful Queen of the
dead.

Returning to Circe, he learned from her of the remaining dangers. The
first of these was the island of the Sirens, who by the marvellous
sweetness of their song charmed to their ruin all who passed. Odysseus
filled the ears of his crews with wax, bidding them to tie him to the
mast of his ship and to row hard past the temptresses in spite of his
strugglings. They then entered the dangerous strait, on one side of
which was Scylla, a dreadful monster who lived in a cave near by, on
the other was the deadly whirlpool of Charybdis. Scylla carried off
six of his men who called in vain to Odysseus to save them, stretching
out their hands to him in their last agony. From the strait they
passed to the island of Trinacria, where they found grazing the cattle
of the Sun. Odysseus had learned from both Teiresias and Circe that an
evil doom would come upon them if they touched the animals; he
therefore made his companions swear a great oath not to touch them if
they landed. For a whole month they were wind-bound in the island and
ate all the provisions which Circe had given them. At a time when
Odysseus had gone to explore the island Eurylochus persuaded his men
to kill and eat; as he returned Odysseus smelled the savour of their
feast and knew that destruction was at hand. For nine days the
feasting continued. When the ship put out to sea Zeus, in answer to
the prayer of the offended Sun-God, sent a storm which drowned all the
crew and drove Odysseus back to the dreaded strait. Escaping through
it with difficulty, he drifted helplessly over the deep and on the
tenth day landed on the island of "the dread goddess who used human
speech", Calypso, who tended him and kept him in captivity.

On the next day the Phaeacians loaded Odysseus with presents and
landed him on his own island while he slept. Poseidon in anger at the
arrival of the hero changed the returning Phaeacian ship into stone
when it was almost within the harbour of the city. When Odysseus awoke
he failed to recognise his own land. Athena appeared to him disguised
as a shepherd, telling him he was indeed in Ithaca:

"Thou art witless or art come from afar, if thou enquirest about
this land. It is not utterly unknown; many know it who dwell in the
East and in the West. It is rough and unfitted for steeds, yet it is
not a sorry isle, though narrow. It hath plenteous store of corn and
the vine groweth herein. It hath alway rain and glistening dew. It
nourisheth goats and cattle and all kinds of woods and its streams
are everlasting."

Such is the description of the land for which Odysseus forsook
Calypso's offer of immortality. After smiling at Odysseus' pretence
that he was a Cretan Athena counselled him how to slay the suitors and
hurried to fetch Telemachus from Sparta. The poet tells why Athena
loved Odysseus more than all others.

"Crafty would he be and a cunning trickster who surpassed thee in
wiles, though it were a god who challenged thee. We know craft
enough, both of us, for thou art by far the best of mortals in speech
and counsel and I among the gods am famed for devices and cunning."

Transformed by her into an old beggar, Odysseus went to the hut of his
faithful old swineherd Eumaeus; the dogs set upon him, but Eumaeus
scared them away and welcomed him to his dwelling. In spite of
Odysseus' assurance that the master would return Eumaeus, who had been
often deceived by similar words, refused to believe. Feigning himself
to be a Cretan, Odysseus saw for himself that the old servant's
loyalty was steadfast; a deft touch brings out his care for his
master's substance:

"laying a bed for Odysseus before the fire, he went out and slept
among the dogs in a cave beneath the breath of the winds."

By the intervention of Athena the two leading characters are brought
together. She stood beside the sleeping Telemachus in Sparta, warning
him of the ambush set for him in Ithaca and bidding him to land on a
lonely part of the coast whence he was to proceed to the hut of
Eumaeus. On his departure from Sparta an omen was interpreted by Helen
to mean that Odysseus was not far from home. As he was on the point of
leaving Pylos on the morrow a bard named Theoclymenus appealed to him
for protection, for he had slain a man and was a fugitive from
justice. Taking him on board Telemachus frustrated the ambush, landing
in safety; he proceeded to Eumaeus' hut, where Odysseus had with some
difficulty been persuaded to remain.

The dogs were the first to announce the arrival of a friend,
gambolling about him. After speaking a word of cheer to Eumaeus
Telemachus enquired who the stranger was; hearing that he was a Cretan
he lamented his inability to give him a welcome in his home owing to
the insolence of his enemies. Remembering the anxiety of his mother
during his absence he sent Eumaeus to the town to acquaint her with
his arrival. Athena seized the opportunity to reveal Odysseus to his
son, transforming him to his own shape. After a moment of utter
amazement at the marvel of the change, Telemachus ran to his father
and fell upon his neck, his joy finding expression in tears. The two
then laid their plans for the destruction of the suitors. By the time
Eumaeus had returned Odysseus had resumed his sorry and tattered
appearance.

Telemachus went to the town alone, bidding Eumaeus bring the stranger
with him. They were met by one Melanthius a goatherd, who covered them
with insults. "In truth one churl is leading another, for the god ever
bringeth like to like. Whither art thou taking this glutton, this evil
pauper, a kill-joy of the feast? He hath learned many a knavish trick
and is like to refuse to labour; creeping among the people he would
rather ask alms to fill his insatiate maw." Leaping on Odysseus, he
kicked at him, yet failed to stir him from the pathway. Swallowing the
insult Odysseus walked towards his house. A superb stroke of art has
created the next incident. In the courtyard lay Argus, a hound whom
Odysseus had once fed. Neglected in the absence of his master he had
crept to a dung-heap, full of lice. When he marked Odysseus coming
towards him he wagged his tail and dropped his ears, but could not
come near his lord. Seeing him from a little distance Odysseus wiped
away his tears unnoticed of Eumaeus and asked whose the hound was.
Eumaeus told the story of his neglect: "but the doom of death took
Argus straightway after seeing Odysseus in the twentieth year". In the
palace Telemachus sent his father food, bidding him ask a charity of
the wooers. Antinous answered by hurling a stool which struck his
shoulder. The noise of the high words which followed brought down
Penelope who protested against the godless behaviour of the suitors
and asked to interview the stranger in hope of learning some tidings
of her husband, but Odysseus put her off till nightfall when they
would be less likely to suffer from the insolence of the suitors.

In Ithaca was a beggar named Irus, gluttonous and big-boned but a
coward. Encouraged by the winkings and noddings of the suitors he bade
Odysseus begone. A quiet answer made him imagine he had to deal with a
poltroon and he challenged him to a fight. The proposal was welcomed
with glee by the suitors, who promised on oath to see fair play for
the old man in his quarrel with a younger. But when they saw the
mighty limbs and stout frame of Odysseus, they deemed that Irus had
brought trouble on his own head. Chattering with fear Irus had to be
forced to the combat. One blow was enough to lay him low; the ease
with which Odysseus had disposed of his foe made him for a time
popular with the suitors.

Under an inspiration of Athena, Penelope came down once more to chide
the wooers for their insolence; she also upbraided them for their
stinginess.

"Yours is not the custom of wooers in former days who were wont to
sue for wedlock with the daughter of a rich man and contend among
themselves. Such men offer oxen and stout cattle and glorious gifts;
they will never consume another's substance without payment."

Stung by the taunt, they gave her the accustomed presents, while
Odysseus rejoiced that she flattered their heart in soft words with a
different intent in her spirit. The insolence of the suitors was
matched by the pertness of the serving maids, of whom Melantho was the
most impudent. A threat from Odysseus drew down upon him the wrath of
the suitors who were with difficulty persuaded by Telemachus to depart
home to their beds.

That night Odysseus and his son removed the arms from the walls, the
latter being told to urge as a pretext for his action the necessity of
cleaning from them the rust and of removing a temptation to violence
when the suitors were heated with wine. At the promised interview with
his wife Odysseus again pretended he was a Cretan; describing the very
dress which Odysseus had worn, he assured her that he would soon
return with the many treasures which he had collected. Half persuaded
by the exact description of a garment she had herself made, she bade
her maids look to him, but he would not suffer any of them to approach
him save his old nurse Eurycleia. As she was washing him in the dim
light of the fireside her fingers touched the old scar above his knee,
the result of an accident in a boar-hunt during his youth.

"Dropping the basin she fell backwards; joy and grief took her
heart at once, her eyes filled with tears and her utterance was
checked. Catching him by his beard, she said: 'In very sooth thou
art Odysseus, my dear boy; and I knew thee not before I had touched
the body of my lord.' So speaking she looked at Penelope, fain to
tell her that her lord was within. But Odysseus laid his hand upon
the nurse's mouth, with the other he drew her to him and whispered:
'Nurse, wouldst thou ruin me? Thou didst nourish me at thy breast,
and now I am come back after mighty sufferings. Be silent, lest
another learn the news, or I tell thee that when I have punished
the suitors I will not even refrain from thee when I destroy the
other women in my halls.'"

Concealing the scar carefully under his rags by the fireside he put a
good interpretation on a strange dream which had visited his wife.

That night Odysseus with his own eyes witnessed the intrigues between
his women and the suitors. He heard his wife weeping in her chamber
for him and prayed to Zeus for aid in the coming trial. On the morrow
he was again outraged; the suitors were moved to laughter by a
prophecy of Theoclymenus:

"Yet they were laughing with alien lips, the meat they ate was
dabbled with blood, their eyes were filled with tears and their
hearts boded lamentation. Among them spake Theoclymenus; 'Wretched
men, what is this evil that is come upon you? Your heads and faces
and the knees beneath you are shrouded in night, mourning is kindled
among you, your cheeks are bedewed with tears, the walls and the
fair pillars are sprinkled with blood, the forecourt and the yard is
full of spectres hastening to the gloom of Erebus; the sun hath
perished from the heaven and a mist of ruin hath swept upon you.'"

In answer Eurymachus bade him begone if all within was night; taking
him at his word, the seer withdrew before the coming ruin.

Then Athena put it into the heart of Penelope to set the suitors a
final test. She brought forth the bow of Odysseus together with twelve
axes. It had been an exercise of her lord to set up the axes in a
line, string the bow and shoot through the heads of the axes which had
been hollowed for that purpose. She promised to follow at once the
suitor who could string the bow and shoot through the axes. First
Telemachus set up the axes and tried to string the weapon; failing
three times he would have succeeded at the next effort but for a
glance from his father. Leiodes vainly tried his strength, to be
rebuked by Antinous who suggested that the bow should be made more
pliant by being heated at the fire.

Noticing that Eumaeus and Philoetius had gone out together Odysseus
went after them and revealed himself to them; the three then returned
to the hall. After all the suitors had failed except Antinous, who did
not deem that he should waste a feast-day in stringing bows, Odysseus
begged that he might try, Penelope insisting on his right to attempt
the feat. When she retired Eumaeus brought the bow to Odysseus, then
told Eurycleia to keep the woman in their chambers while Philoetius
bolted the hall door.

"But already Odysseus was turning the bow this way and that testing
it lest the worms had devoured it in his absence. Then when he had
balanced it and looked it all over, even as when a man skilled in
the lyre and song easily putteth a new string about a peg, even so
without an effort Odysseus strung his mighty bow. Taking it in his
right hand he tried the string which sang sweetly beneath his touch
like to the voice of a swallow. Then he took an arrow and shot it
with a straight aim through the axes, missing not one. Then he spake
to Telemachus: 'Thy guest bringeth thee no shame as he sitteth in
thy halls, for I missed not the mark nor spent much time in the
stringing. My strength is yet whole within me. But now it is time to
make a banquet for the Achaeans in the light of day and then season
it with song and dance, which are the crown of revelry.' So speaking
he nodded, and his son took a sword and a spear and stood by him
clad in gleaming bronze."

The first victim was Antinous, whom Odysseus shot through the neck as
he was in the act of drinking, never dreaming that one man would
attack a multitude of suitors. Eurymachus fell after vainly attempting
a compromise. Melanthius was caught in the act of supplying arms to
the rest and was left bound to be dealt with when the main work was
done. Athena herself encouraged Odysseus in his labour of vengeance,
deflecting from him any weapons that were hurled at him. At length all
was over, the serving women were made to cleanse the hall of all
traces of bloodshed; the guiltiest of them were hanged, while
Melanthius died a horrible death by mutilation. Odysseus then summoned
his wife to his presence.

Eurycleia carried the message to her, laughing with joy so much that
Penelope deemed her mad. The story of the vengeance which Odysseus had
exacted was so incredible that it must have been the act of a god, not
a man. When she entered the hall Telemachus upbraided her for her
unbelief, but Odysseus smiled on hearing that she intended to test him
by certain proofs which they two alone were aware of. He withdrew for
a time to cleanse him of his stains and to put on his royal garments,
after ordering the servants to maintain a revelry to blind the people
to the death of their chief men.

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