Insults and Abuse
When newborn Dawn appeared with hands of flowers, Telemachus, Odysseus’ son,
fastened his handsome sandals on his feet, took up his sturdy spear that fit his hand, and headed out. He told the swineherd,
“Grandpa,
I must go into town, to see my mother. Until we meet, I think she will not stop
her lamentations, tears, and bitter sobbing. Now I need you to take this poor old stranger to town to beg his supper; any man 10
who feels like it can feed him. I cannot put up with everyone right now; I have too many worries. If he gets annoyed, the worse for him. I always like to tell the honest truth.”
Odysseus replied, “My friend, I do not even want to stay.
Beggars should wander round the town and country. I will get food from charitable people.
I am too old to stay here as a farmhand, obeying orders from an overseer. 20
This man will take me, as you told him to, as soon as I have warmed up by the fire.
I only have these rags; the morning frost may do me in—you say the town is far.”
At that, Telemachus strode quickly out, thinking about his plan to hurt the suitors.
And when he reached the royal house, he propped his spear against a pillar, and went in,
across the stony threshold.
Eurycleia
the nurse, was first to notice his arrival, 30
as she was laying fleeces on the chairs. Weeping, she rushed at him. The other women owned by strong-willed Odysseus assembled and kissed Telemachus’ head and shoulders
to welcome him. Then wise Penelope
came from her bedroom, looking like a goddess, like Artemis or golden Aphrodite,
and flung her arms around her darling son,
and wept. She kissed his face and shining eyes, and through her tears her words flew out.
“You came! 40
Telemachus! Sweet light! I was so sure that I would never see you anymore after you sailed to Pylos secretly,
not telling me, to get news of your father. Tell me, what have you seen?”
Telemachus said calmly, “Mother, do not try to make me upset, or stir my feelings. I survived
the danger. Go upstairs and take your bath,
put on clean clothes and take your women with you into your bedroom. Sacrifice and pray 50
to all the gods, that one day Zeus may grant revenge. Now I am going into town.
I will invite the stranger who arrived right after me on Ithaca. I sent him
ahead, with my brave men, and told Piraeus
to take him home and treat him with all kindness until I come.”
His flying words hit home.
She washed, put on clean clothes, and prayed to all the gods, and made them lavish sacrifices,
asking that one day Zeus would bring revenge. 60
Telemachus took up his spear and marched
out through the hall, two swift dogs at his side. Athena poured unearthly grace upon him.
Everyone was amazed to see him coming.
The suitors gathered round and spoke to him
in friendly tones; at heart, they meant him harm. Keeping away from most of them, he joined Mentor and Antiphus and Halitherses,
who were his father’s friends from long ago.
They questioned him in detail. Then Piraeus 70
approached with Theoclymenus, the stranger
whom he had brought through town towards the center.
At once Telemachus set out and rushed to stand beside the stranger. And Piraeus spoke first.
“Telemachus, send women quickly to my house, so I may give back the gifts
that Menelaus gave you.”
Telemachus replied,
But with caution
“Piraeus, no.
We do not know exactly what will happen,
and if the suitors in my house by stealth 80
should kill me and divide my father’s wealth between themselves, I would prefer that you enjoy the gifts than any of those men.
And if I kill them, planting doom among them, bring me the gifts, and we will both be happy.”
With this, he led the weary stranger back
to his house, where he laid their cloaks across
chairs; they went to bathe. The slave girls washed them, rubbed them with oil, and dressed them in wool cloaks and tunics. Then they left the baths and sat 90
on chairs. A girl brought out a golden pitcher and poured the washing water on their hands, over a silver bowl. She set a table
beside them, and a humble slave girl brought a generous array from their rich stores.
Penelope was leaning on a chair beside the door, facing Telemachus,
spinning fine strands of wool. They helped themselves to food and drink. When they had had enough, Penelope, preoccupied, spoke up. 100
“Telemachus, I will go upstairs now,
to lie down on my bed, which has become
a bed of mourning, always stained with tears, since my Odysseus went off to Troy
with those two sons of Atreus. But you have failed to tell me if you gathered news
about your father’s journey home; now tell me, before the suitors come.”
Telemachus answered her calmly. “Mother, I will tell you.
We went to Pylos, visiting King Nestor. 110
He made me very welcome in his palace, under his roof, as if I were his son returning after many years away.
He cared for me like one of his own sons. But he said he had not heard anything from anyone about Odysseus,
alive or dead. He sent me on, with horses and carriage, to the son of Atreus,
great General Menelaus. There I saw
Helen for whose sake, by the will of gods, 120
the Greeks and Trojans suffered through the war.
When Menelaus asked why I had come to glorious Sparta, I told him the truth
in detail, and he answered, ‘Stupid cowards!
The bed they want to lie down in belongs to someone truly resolute. As when
a deer lays down her newborn suckling fawns inside the leafy den of some fierce lion,
and goes off to the slopes and grassy valleys
to graze. Then he comes back to his own bed 130
and cruelly destroys both little ones. So will Odysseus destroy them all. By Father Zeus, Athena, and Apollo, I pray he is as strong as long ago,
on Lesbos, when he wrestled Philomedes
and hurled him to the ground, and all the Greeks cheered. May he fight the suitors that same way, so all of them will find their courtship ends badly, and their lives soon. And I will answer
your questions frankly, and tell what I learned 140
from the old Sea God, who can tell no lies. He said he saw him in distress: the nymph Calypso has him trapped upon her island, inside her house. He cannot come back home
to his own country, since he has no fleet
or crew to row across the sea’s broad back.’ That was what famous Menelaus said.
My tasks accomplished, I sailed off. The gods
gave me fair wind which swiftly brought me home.”
His story stirred emotions in her heart. 150
Then godlike Theoclymenus spoke up.
“My lady, wife of great Odysseus, this news is incomplete. I will reveal
the whole truth with a prophecy. I swear by Zeus and hospitality and by
the hearth of great Odysseus, the place where I have come: he is already here in Ithaca—at rest or on his way.
He must have learned what bad things they are doing, and he is plotting ruin for them all. 160
I know because I saw a sign while sitting on board the ship—I told Telemachus.”
Penelope said carefully, “Well, stranger,
I hope this does come true. I would reward you with so much warmth and generosity
that everyone you met would see your luck.”
Meanwhile, outside Odysseus’ house,
the suitors relished games of darts and discus, playing outside as usual, with no thought
of others. Then at dinnertime, when flocks 170
of sheep were trekking home from every field, led by their shepherds, Medon spoke. He was
the suitors’ favorite slave boy, whom they always brought to their feasts.
“My lords, you have enjoyed your games. Now come inside to eat. There is
no harm in having meals at proper times.”
They followed his advice, stood up and went inside the palace. They spread out their cloaks over the chairs, and killed plump goats, large rams,
some fatted pigs, and one domestic cow, 180
and cooked them for the feast.
Odysseus was making haste to leave the countryside
for town. The swineherd spoke in lordly tones.
“Stranger, my master says that you can come to town today, as you desire—though I
would rather leave you here to watch the farm. But I am nervous that the master may reproach me, and a master’s curses fall heavily on a slave. Now we must go.
The hour is late and it will soon get colder; 190
the sun is sinking low.”
Odysseus answered, “I understand. We can go now; you lead the way. But if you have a stick, give it to me to lean on, since I hear
the path is slippery.”
With that, he slung his bag across his shoulders by its string.
It was all tattered, full of holes. Eumaeus gave him a serviceable stick. They left;
the dogs and herdsmen stayed to guard the farm. The swineherd led his master into town 200
resembling a poor old beggar, leaning upon a stick and dressed in dirty rags.
They walked along the stony path, and near
the town, they reached an ornate fountain, flowing with clear streams, where the people came for water. It had been built by Ithacus, Neritus,
and Polyctor. A circle of black poplars
grew round it, nurtured by the spring. Cool water poured from the rocks above. There was an altar built over it in honor of the Nymphs. 210
All passersby made offerings to them. Melanthius the son of Dolius,
with two more herders, met them there. He was driving the finest goats to feed the suitors.
On seeing them, he spoke abusively,
in brash, offensive language that enraged Odysseus.
“One scoundrel leads another!
Makes sense: gods join like things with like. You foul pig-man, where are you taking this old swine?
A scrounger, who will rub on many doors, 220
demanding scraps, not gifts for warriors. If you let me have him to guard my farm,
and muck the pens and toss the kids their fodder, he could drink whey and fatten his stick legs.
But he does not want work. He likes to traipse around the town and beg for chow to stuff
his greedy belly. I predict, if he reaches the palace of Odysseus,
a mass of hands will hurl stools at his head,
to pelt him through the house and bruise his ribs.” 230
With that, he sauntered past him, and lunged out to kick him on the hip bone. What a fool!
Odysseus was not pushed off the path;
he stood there fixed in place, and wondered whether to rush at him, armed with his stick, and kill him,
or grab him by the ears and push him down onto the ground. Instead, he braced himself and kept his temper. When the swineherd saw Melanthius insulting him, he prayed,
arms high.
“O Fountain Nymphs, O Zeus’ daughters! 240
If ever King Odysseus brought bones
of lamb and goat in luscious fat for you, then now fulfill my prayer! May spirits guide him home!
My master will put paid to all the bluster
of this rude man, who loafs round town and lets the animals be ruined by bad herders.”
Melanthius the goatherd sneered at him, “Oh, very nice! This dog knows how to talk, and it has learned some tricks. One day I will
take him by ship and row him far away 250
from Ithaca, and get a heap of treasure by selling him. I wish Apollo would shoot silver arrows at Telemachus tomorrow in his house; or that the suitors would kill him. I am sure Odysseus
is far away and never coming back.”
With that, he left them—they were walking slowly, and he rushed on ahead of them. He went
inside his master’s house, and sat among
the suitors, with Eurymachus, his favorite. 260
The slaves brought out a piece of meat for him, and a submissive house girl brought him bread. The swineherd and Odysseus went in,
and stood, surrounded by the strumming sound of the resounding lyre that Phemius
was tuning for his song. Odysseus grabbed at the swineherd’s hand and said,
“Eumaeus!
This is Odysseus’ splendid palace.
It could be recognized among a thousand.
The rooms are all connected, and the courtyard 270
is fenced in by a wall with cornices,
and there are sturdy double doors. No man could break through here. I notice many men are feasting; I smell meat, and hear the lyre, which gods have made companion to the feast.”
Eumaeus answered, “Right! You are perceptive.
Now we must plan. Will you go inside first to join the suitors, while I stay out here?
Or do you want to wait, and I will go?
But do not stay too long. If someone sees you, 280
you will be pelted, maybe beaten up.”
Unflappable Odysseus said, “Yes,
I thought of that. You go, I will stay here.
I have been hit before. I know hard knocks.
I am resilient. I suffered war
and being lost at sea. So let this be. There is no way to hide a hungry belly. It is insistent, and the curse of hunger is why we sail across relentless seas, and plunder other people.”
As they spoke, 290
Argos, the dog that lay there, raised his head and ears. Odysseus had trained this dog
but with no benefit—he left too soon
to march on holy Troy. The master gone, boys took the puppy out to hunt wild goats and deer and hares. But now he lay neglected, without an owner, in a pile of dung
from mules and cows—the slaves stored heaps of it outside the door, until they fertilized
the large estate. So Argos lay there dirty, 300
covered with fleas. And when he realized Odysseus was near, he wagged his tail,
and both his ears dropped back. He was too weak to move towards his master. At a distance,
Odysseus had noticed, and he wiped his tears away and hid them easily, and said,
“Eumaeus, it is strange this dog is lying in the dung; he looks quite handsome, though it is hard to tell if he can run,
or if he is a pet, a table dog, 310
kept just for looks.”
Eumaeus, you replied, “This dog belonged to someone who has died in foreign lands. If he were in good health,
as when Odysseus abandoned him
and went to Troy, you soon would see how quick and brave he used to be. He went to hunt
in woodland, and he always caught his prey.
His nose was marvelous. But now he is in bad condition, with his master gone,
long dead. The women fail to care for him. 320
Slaves do not want to do their proper work,
when masters are not watching them. Zeus halves our value on the day that makes us slaves.”
With that, the swineherd went inside the palace, to join the noble suitors. Twenty years
had passed since Argos saw Odysseus, and now he saw him for the final time—
then suddenly, black death took hold of him.
Telemachus first saw the swineherd coming.
He gave a nod to tell him to come over. 330
Glancing around, Eumaeus saw the stool used by the boy who carved the suitors’ meat. He picked it up and set it down beside Telemachus’ table. There he sat;
the slave boy brought him meat and bread. And then Odysseus approached and stepped inside,
looking like some poor homeless sad old man; he hobbled on his stick, then slumped himself down on the ash-wood threshold, leaning back
against the cypress doorpost, which a workman 340
had smoothed and straightened long ago. The boy summoned the swineherd over, and picked up
a wheat loaf from the basket and as much
meat as his hands could hold, and gave it to him. He said,
“Please take this food out to that stranger,
and tell him he should walk around the hall and beg from all the suitors; shame is not
a friend to those in need.”
The swineherd went and told Odysseus, “Telemachus
gives you this food and says you ought to beg 350
from all these suitors; shame, he says, is not fitting for those who have to live by handouts.”
Odysseus prayed cautiously, “O Zeus, bless this Telemachus, and may he have all that his heart desires.”
And with both hands he took the food and set it at his feet,
on top of his old ragged bag, and ate, and listened to the singer in the hall.
As he was finishing, the music stopped;
the suitors shouted, and Athena stood 360
beside Odysseus, and prompted him
to go among the suitors, begging scraps,
to find out which of them were bad or good— although she had no thought of saving any out of the massacre which was to come.
He went around and begged from left to right, holding his hand out, like a practiced beggar. They gave him food in pity, and they wondered who this man was and whereabouts he came from.
They asked each other, and Melanthius, 370
the goatherd, said,
“You suitors of the queen, listen to me about this stranger here.
I saw this man before; the swineherd brought him. I know no more; I do not know his background.”
Antinous began to scold the swineherd. “Pig-man! You famous idiot! Why did you
bring this man here? Do we not have already plenty of homeless people coming here
to spoil our feasts? Is it not bad enough
that they crowd round and eat your master’s wealth? 380
You had to ask this other one as well?”
Eumaeus, you replied, “Antinous,
you are a lord, but what you say is trash. Who would invite a stranger from abroad unless he had the skills to help the people— a prophet, or a doctor, or a builder,
or poet who can sing and bring delight?
No one would ask a beggar; they bring only their hunger. Out of all the suitors, you
are meanest to the slaves, especially me. 390
But if the prudent queen and godlike prince still live here in this house, I do not mind.”
Telemachus said, “Shush. Antinous
does not deserve an answer. He is always picking a fight, and goading on the others.”
Then turning to Antinous, he said,
“You care for me so nicely, like a father! You told me I should force the stranger out.
May no god make that happen! Go to him
and give him something; I can spare the food. 400
Go on, I tell you! You should pay no heed to Mother or the other household slaves belonging to my father. You were not concerned about them anyway. You want
to gorge yourself, not share with other people.”
Antinous replied, “You little show-off!
What nasty temper! What an awful comment! If all the suitors gave the same as me,
this house could keep him checked for three whole months.”
He had a footstool underneath the table, 410
for resting his soft feet on while he feasted; he brandished it. The others all gave food and filled the beggar’s bag. Odysseus
had finished with his test; he could have walked back to the threshold, no harm done. Instead,
he stood beside Antinous and said,
“Friend, give me something. You must be the best of all the Greeks. You look like royalty,
so you should give more food than all the rest,
and I will make you known throughout the world. 420
I used to be a rich man, with a palace. When needy beggars came from anywhere, no matter who they were, I gave them food.
My slaves were numberless, my wealth was great; I had the life men say is happiness.
But Zeus destroyed it all; he wanted to.
He prompted me to travel with some pirates to Egypt; that long journey spelled my ruin.
I moored my galleys in the River Nile
and told my loyal men to stay and guard them, 430
and sent out scouts to all the lookout points. But they were too impulsive, and they sacked the beautiful Egyptian fields, and seized women and children, and they killed the men.
The screaming reached the town; the people heard, and rushed to come and help; at dawn the plain was all filled up with foot soldiers and horses
and flashing bronze. Then Zeus, who loves the thunder, caused panic in my men—disastrous panic.
Danger was all around us, and not one 440
stood firm. The sharp bronze swords killed many men, and others were enslaved as laborers.
But they gave me to somebody they met,
a foreigner named Dmetor, king of Cyprus. I came from there. Such is my tale of woe.”
Antinous replied, “What god imposed
this pest to spoil our feast? Stay over there, not near my table—or you can get lost!
Get killed in Egypt or enslaved in Cyprus!
You barefaced beggar! You come up to us, 450
and these men give you treats unthinkingly; we have so much, and people do not mind sharing another person’s wealth.”
Sharp-witted Odysseus drew back from him and said,
“You handsome idiot! You would not give
a grain of salt from your own house. You sit enjoying someone else’s food, and yet
you will not give a crumb from this great banquet to me.”
Antinous was furious,
and scowling said, “That does it! You insult me? 460
You lost the chance to leave with dignity!”
He lifted up his stool and hurled it at Odysseus’ right shoulder, near his back.
It did not knock him over; like a rock
he stood there, shook his head, and silently considered his revenge. Then he went back, sat on the threshold and set down the bag,
all full of food, and told them, “Listen, suitors of this world-famous queen; I have to speak.
When men are fighting for their own possessions, 470
for cows or sheep, there is no shame in wounds.
But now Antinous has wounded me because I came here hungry; hunger brings such suffering to humans. If there are
gods of the poor, or Furies to avenge us,
may he be struck by death, instead of marriage!
He answered, “Stranger, shut up, or be off!
If you keep talking, we young men will drag you across the palace by your hands and feet
and have you flayed alive!”
But all the others 480
reproached Antinous insistently.
“You ought not to have hit a poor old beggar!
If he turns out to be a god from heaven
it will end badly! Gods disguise themselves as foreigners and strangers to a town,
to see who violates their holy laws, and who is good.”
Antinous ignored
the suitors’ words. The blow increased the pain inside Telemachus’ heart, but he
let fall no tears. He calmly shook his head 490
and thought about revenge.
Penelope heard what had happened in the hall, and said to all her slaves,
“I hope Apollo shoots Antinous, just as he hit the beggar!”
And old Eurynome replied, “If only
our prayers were answered! None of them would live to see the Dawn ride in upon her throne.”
Penelope said, “Yes, dear, they are all our enemies and mean to do us harm.
Antinous is the worst; he is like death. 500
Some poor old stranger wandered to this house and asked the men for food, compelled by need. The others helped him out and filled his bag; Antinous hurled a footstool at his shoulder.”
She had this conversation in her room with her attendants, while Odysseus
was eating dinner. Then she called the swineherd.
“Eumaeus! Have the stranger come to me, so I may welcome him, and ask if he
has heard or witnessed anything about 510
long-lost Odysseus. The stranger seems as if he must have traveled far.”
Eumaeus replied, “Your Majesty, I wish these men would quiet down! The tales the stranger tells
would charm your heart. For three days and three nights I had him stay with me. He ran away
from off a ship, and came to my house first; he started to describe his sufferings,
and had not finished. Like a singer, blessed
by gods with skill in storytelling—people 520
watch him and hope that he will sing forever— so this man’s tale enchanted me. He says Odysseus and he are old guest-friends
through their forefathers. This man lived in Crete, the home of Minos, and he traveled here
a rambling route, with dangers compassed round.
He says Odysseus is still alive
and near here, in the rich Thesprotian land, and he is bringing home a pile of treasure.”
Penelope said, “Call him over, let him 530
tell me in person, while the suitors have their fun here in my house or at the doors;
their mood is festive. In their homes they have untasted food and wine, which their house slaves devour, while they are flocking to our house each day to slaughter oxen, sheep, and goats,
to feast and drink our wine, with no restraint. Our wealth is decimated. There is no man here like Odysseus, who could defend
the house. But if Odysseus comes back 540
to his own native land, he and his son
will soon take vengeance for their violence.”
Telemachus sneezed loudly and the noise resounded through the hall. Penelope laughed, and she told Eumaeus,
“Call the stranger!
My son just sneezed at what I said—you heard? It is a sign of death for all the suitors;
no one can save them from their ruin now.
But listen: if I find this stranger speaking
the truth, give him nice clothes—a cloak and tunic.” 550
At that, the swineherd went and stood beside Odysseus. His words had wings.
“Now sir,
Penelope, Telemachus’ mother,
has summoned you. She feels impelled to ask about her husband, painful though it is.
If you tell her the truth—and she will know— you will get clothes; you desperately need them. And you can ask for food all through the town, and fill your belly. Anyone who wants
can give you scraps.”
Strong-willed Odysseus 560
answered, “Eumaeus, I will tell the truth, the whole truth, to Penelope, and soon.
I know about Odysseus; we shared in suffering. But I am very nervous
about the rowdy suitors. Their aggression touches the iron sky. When I was walking across the hall just now, quite harmlessly,
that man hurled something at me, and he hurt me. Telemachus did nothing to protect me,
and nor did anybody else. So now, 570
tell her to stay right there until night falls, however eager she may be. At dusk,
she can come nearer, sit beside the fire, and ask about her husband’s journey home. I do have dirty clothes—you know it well, since it was you I came to first for help.”
The swineherd headed back; he crossed the threshold, and sharp Penelope said,
“Are you not bringing the traveler? Is something wrong?
Is he too scared or shy? A homeless man 580
can ill afford such shame.”
Eumaeus answered, “His words were common sense; he wants to stay out of the suitors’ way; they are aggressive.
He says you should stay here until sunset. It is much better for you too, my queen, to speak to him alone.”
Penelope replied, “The stranger is no fool at least. There never were such bullies as these men, and they intend us harm.”
The swineherd went
back to the crowd of suitors, and approached 590
Telemachus, and tucked his head down close, so no one else would hear. “My friend,” he said, “I have to go and watch the pigs, and all
your property, and mine. You should take care of everything, but most of all, yourself.
Do not get hurt. So many mean you harm. I pray that Zeus obliterates them all, before they injure us!”
Telemachus answered, “May it be so. First eat, then go;
come back at dawn with animals for meat. 600
The rest is up to me and up to gods.”
So then Eumaeus sat down on the stool,
and ate and drank, then went back to his pigs, leaving the palace full of banqueters.
It was already late, past afternoon;
music and dancing entertained the suitors.
