An Archery Contest
With glinting eyes, Athena put a thought into the mind of wise Penelope,
the daughter of Icarius: to place the bow and iron axes in the hall
of great Odysseus, and set the contest
which would begin the slaughter. She went up to her own room. Her muscular, firm hand picked up the ivory handle of the key—
a hook of bronze. Then with her slaves she walked down to the storeroom where the master kept 10
his treasure: gold and bronze and well-wrought iron. The curving bow and deadly arrows lay there,
given by Iphitus, Eurytus’ son,
the godlike man he happened to befriend at wise Ortilochus’ house, far off
in Lacedaemon, in Messenia. Odysseus had gone to claim a debt— some people of Messenia had come
in rowing boats and poached three hundred sheep from Ithaca; they took their shepherds too. 20
Laertes and the other older men
had sent Odysseus to fetch them back when he was still a boy. And Iphitus
had come there for his horses, twelve fine mares, each suckling a sturdy mule. These horses would later cause his death, when he had gone to visit Heracles, who welcomed him,
but killed him, so that he could take the horses— betraying hospitality, and heedless
about the watchful gods. Before all that, 30
when Iphitus first met Odysseus, he gave this bow to him, inherited from his own father. And Odysseus
gave Iphitus a sword and spear, to mark their bond. But Iphitus was dead before
the friends could visit one another’s houses. So when Odysseus’ black fleet sailed
to war, he did not take the bow, but stored it in his own house, to use in Ithaca
in memory of his friend.
The queen had reached 40
the storeroom, and she stepped across the threshold of polished oak; a skillful carpenter
had set it level, fixed the frame, and built
the dazzling double doors. She quickly loosed the door-thong from its hook, pushed in the key and with true aim, thrust back the fastenings.
The fine doors, as the key struck home, began to bellow as a bull at pasture bellows.
At once, they flew apart. She stepped inside,
onto the pallet where the scented clothes 50
were stored in chests, and reached to lift the bow down from its hook, still in its shining case.
She sat down on the floor to take it out, resting it on her lap, and started sobbing and wailing as she saw her husband’s bow.
At last, she dried her eyes, and in her arms picked up the curving bow and quiver, packed with many deadly arrows, and she went
to meet her arrogant suitors. Slaves lugged out
a hamper with their master’s many axes 60
of bronze and iron, for the competition.
The queen came near the suitors, and she stopped beside a pillar with a filmy veil
across her face. Two slave girls stood with her. She said,
“Now listen, lords. You keep on coming to this house every day, to eat and drink,
wasting the wealth of someone who has been away too long. Your motives are no secret.
You want to marry me. I am the prize.
So I will set a contest. This great bow 70
belonged to godlike King Odysseus.
If anyone can grasp it in his hands
and string it easily, and shoot through all twelve axes, I will marry him, and leave this beautiful rich house, so full of life, my lovely bridal home. I think I will remember it forever, even in
my dreams.”
She told Eumaeus he should set the bow and pale-gray iron axes up
before the suitors, and in tears the swineherd 80
took them, and did as she had asked. The cowherd wept also when he saw his master’s bow.
Antinous began to scold and taunt them. He said, “You idiots! You tactless peasants!
So thoughtless, so undisciplined! You fools, your selfish crying is upsetting her!
Poor lady, she is sad enough already at losing her beloved husband. Sit
and eat in silence, or go do your wailing
outside, and leave us suitors here to try 90
the deadly contest of the bow. I think it will be difficult; not one of us
can match Odysseus. I saw him once
in childhood, and I still remember him.”
He hoped he would be first to string the bow and shoot through all the axes. But he would be first to taste an arrow from the hands
of great Odysseus, whom he had mocked, urging the others on to do the same.
Then Prince Telemachus addressed them all. 100
“Zeus must have made me stupid! My dear mother, despite her usual common sense, has said
that she will marry someone else and leave this house. But I am laughing, and my heart
feels foolish gladness. Well, come on, you suitors.
You want this prize—a woman unlike any in holy Pylos, Argos or Mycenae,
or here in Ithaca or on the mainland. No woman in Achaea is like her.
There is no need for me to praise my mother. 110
You know her worth. So do not make excuses, do not put off the contest of the bow.
We want to watch. And I will try myself.
If I succeed in stringing it and shooting
all through, I will no longer mind if Mother goes off with someone else, and leaves me here. Success would prove me man enough to carry my father’s arms.”
He stood up straight and tall, tossed off his purple cloak, unstrapped his sword, and dug a trench to set the axes up, 120
all in a line, and trod the earth down flat. They were amazed to see him work so neatly, though he had never seen it done before.
He stood astride the threshold and began
to try the bow. Three times his muscles trembled, straining to draw it back; three times he failed
to string the bow and shoot all through the axes. He would have tried a fourth time; he was keen to keep on pulling. But Odysseus
shook his head, stopping him. Telemachus 130
said,
“Ugh! It seems that I will always be too weak and useless. Or perhaps I am
too young and inexperienced at fighting
in self-defense when someone starts a quarrel. You all are stronger than I am. You try,
and we can end the contest.”
With these words, he set the bow down on the floor, propped up against the polished, jointed double door,
and tucked the arrow up against the handle.
He sat back down where he had sat before. 140
Antinous called out, “Now, friends, get up, from left to right, beginning with the man next to the wine-slave!”
They agreed. The first was Leodes, their holy man, who always
sat in the farthest corner, by the wine-bowl.
He was the only one who disapproved of all their bullying. He grasped the bow
and stood astride the threshold, and he tried to string it, but he failed. His hands were soft,
untrained by labor, and he grew worn out 150
trying to pull it back. He told the suitors,
“My friends, I cannot do it. Someone else should have a turn. This bow will take away courage, life-force, and energy from many noble young men; but better we should die, than live and lose the goal for which we gather in this house every day. Each man still hopes for marriage with Odysseus’ wife,
Penelope. But if one tries and fails
to string the bow, let him go use his wealth 160
to court some other fine, well-dressed Greek lady.
And after that, Penelope will marry whichever man can bring most gifts for her— the man whom fate has chosen.”
With these words, he set the bow back down, and leaned it up
against the polished, jointed double door, tucking the pointed arrow by the handle. Antinous responded with a jeer.
“My goodness, Leodes! What scary words!
All your tough talk has made me really angry. 170
You cannot string the bow, so you are claiming that it will take the life from proper men.
You surely were not born for archery. The rest of us are actual warriors;
we will soon string this bow.”
He told the goatherd, “Melanthius, come on now, light a fire
and pull a chair beside it, with a fleece, and bring out from the pantry a big hunk
of fat, so we young men can warm the bow,
grease it, and try it, and so end this contest.” 180
Melanthius obeyed at once; he lit
a blazing fire, and pulled a chair beside it, spreading a fleece on top, and brought the wheel of fat. The young men warmed the bow, but still they could not string it. They were far too weak. Antinous and Eurymachus, the leaders, strongest and most impressive of the suitors, had still not had their turn.
Meanwhile the swineherd and cowherd had both gone outside the house.
Odysseus himself came after them, 190
and when they were outside the gates, beyond the courtyard, in a friendly voice he said,
“Cowherd and swineherd, I am hesitating whether to speak out openly; my impulse
is to be frank. What if some god should guide Odysseus, and suddenly, as if
from nowhere, he was here—how would you act? Would you be with the suitors, or with him?
How are your hearts inclined?”
The cowherd said,
“O Father Zeus, please make this wish come true, 200
that he may come! May spirits guide him home!
Then you would see how well-prepared I am to fight for him!” Eumaeus prayed in turn that all the gods would bring Odysseus
back home. The man who thought of everything now knew their minds, and said to them,
“I am here now.
I suffered terribly for twenty years,
and now I have come back to my own land.
I see that you two are the only slaves
who welcome my arrival. I have not 210
heard any others praying I would come back to my home. I promise, if some god brings down the noble suitors by my hands, I will give each of you a wife and wealth, and well-constructed houses, near my own. You two will be Telemachus’ brothers.
Now let me show you clearer proof, so you can know me well and trust me. See my scar,
made by the boar’s white tusk, when I had gone
to hunt on Mount Parnassus with my cousins.” 220
So saying, he pulled back his rags and showed the great big scar. They stared and studied it, then both burst into tears. They threw their arms around Odysseus, and kissed his face
and hugged him, overjoyed at seeing him. Odysseus embraced them back and kissed them.
They would have wept till sunset, but he stopped them, and said,
“Stop now; if someone steps outside and sees you crying, they may tell the men.
Go in, not both at once but taking turns, 230
first me, then you, then you. And this will be our sign: when all the noblemen refuse
to let me have the bow and set of arrows,
then you must bring them through the hall, Eumaeus, and put them in my hands. Command the women
to shut up tight the entrance to the hall, and go to their own quarters; if they hear
men screaming or loud noises, they must not come out, but stay there quietly, and work.
And you, Philoetius, lock up the gates 240
leading out from the courtyard with the bolt and put the rope on too. We must move fast.”
With that, he went inside, and sat back down on the same chair he sat on earlier.
Then the two slaves went in. Eurymachus was handling the bow and warming it, turning it back and forth beside the fire.
But even after that, he could not manage
to string it, and he groaned, and yelled in fury,
“This is disastrous! For all of us! 250
I do not even mind so much about
the marriage. There are lots of other women on Ithaca, and in the other cities.
But that we should be proven so much weaker than King Odysseus, that we should fail
to string his bow! Our deep humiliation
will be well-known for many years to come!”
Antinous said, “No, Eurymachus,
it will not be like that, as you well know.
No one should shoot a bow today; it is 260
a feast day for Apollo! We should sit
calmly and leave the axe heads standing there. No one will come and take them. Let the boy pour wine, so we can make drink offerings, and leave the bow for now. At dawn, call back Melanthius, to bring the finest goats,
so we can make our offerings to the god,
Apollo, lord of archery, then try
the bow again, and finish up the contest.”
They all agreed with him. Attendants poured 270
water to wash their hands, and boys began
to mix the wine in bowls, and poured a serving in every cup, so they could make libations
and drink. Odysseus, the lord of lies,
had carefully considered how to fool them. He said,
“Now hear me, suitors of the Queen; let me reveal the promptings of my heart.
Eurymachus and Lord Antinous,
I ask you specially, because you spoke
so well: now set the bow aside, and turn 280
towards the gods. At dawn, the god will choose the victor and give him success. For now,
give me the polished bow, so I can try
my strength and find out if my hands still have the suppleness and vigor of my youth,
or if it has been lost in all my years of homelessness and poverty.”
They bristled, nervous in case he strung the polished bow.
Antinous said, “Foreigner! You fool!
Are you not grateful that we let you stay here 290
and eat with noblemen like us, and share our feast, and hear us talk? No other beggars can hear our conversation. This good wine has made you drunk. It does have that effect
on those who gulp and fail to pace themselves. Wine even turned the famous Centaur’s head. When Eurytion visited the Lapiths,
inside the house of brave Pirithous
the wine made him go crazy, and he did
terrible things. The warriors were outraged, 300
and dragged him from the house. Their ruthless swords cut off his ears and cropped his nose right off.
He wandered, still insane and blown about
by gusts of madness. From that day, the Centaurs and humans have been enemies. His drinking was harmful to himself. If you should string
that bow, it would be worse for you. No man will treat you kindly in our house. We will send you by ship to Echetus, the king
of cruelty; you will find no escape. 310
Sit quietly, drink up, and do not quarrel with younger men.”
Astute Penelope said, “No, Antinous, it is not right
to disrespect a guest Telemachus
has welcomed to this house. And do you think that if this stranger’s hands were strong enough to string the bow, he would take me away
to marry him and live with him? Of course not! He does not even dream of such a thing.
No need to spoil the feast by worrying 320
about such things; there is no need of that.”
Eurymachus said, “Shrewd Penelope, it is indeed unlikely that this man
would marry you. But we would feel ashamed if some rude person said, ‘Those men are weak! They court a fighter’s wife, but cannot string his bow! Some random beggar has shown up and strung it easily, and shot right through
all of the axes!’ They will talk like that, and we will be humiliated!”
Calmly, 330
Penelope replied, “Eurymachus, people who waste the riches of a king
have lost their dignity. Why fuss at this? The stranger is quite tall and muscular; his father must be noble. Go on, give him the bow, and let us watch. I tell you, if
he strings it by the blessing of Apollo,
I will give him a proper cloak and tunic,
fine clothes and sandals, and a two-edged sword and dagger, sharp enough to ward away 340
both men and dogs, and I will help him go wherever he desires to go.”
With quick intake of breath, Telemachus replied,
“No, Mother, no one has a better right than I to give the bow to anyone
or to refuse it. No one on this island
or out towards the pasturelands of Elis,
and no man in this house can force my hand, even if I should choose to give the bow
to him to take away. Go up and work 350
with loom and distaff; tell your girls the same. The bow is work for men, especially me.
I am the one with power in this house.”
She was amazed, and went back to her room, taking to heart her son’s assertive words.
Inside her bedroom with her girls, she wept for her dear husband, her Odysseus,
until clear-eyed Athena let her sleep.
Meanwhile, the swineherd lifted up the bow. The suitors made an uproar.
“Dirty pig-man! 360
Where are you taking it? Are you insane? The dogs you raised yourself will eat you up when you are out there with your pigs alone, if we find favor with Apollo and
the other deathless gods.”
He was afraid, because there were so many people shouting inside the hall, and set the bow he carried down on the ground. Telemachus called out, in forceful tones.
“No, Grandpa! Keep on going! Keep carrying the bow! You will soon see 370
you have to choose which master to obey. Though I am younger than you, I am stronger; watch out, or I will chase you to the fields, pelting your back with stones. I wish I had
an equal edge on all those who invaded
my home to court my mother and make mischief.
I would soon throw them out and make them pay!”
At that, the suitors all began to laugh; their anger at Telemachus was gone.
Eumaeus went across the hall and gave 380
the bow to competent Odysseus.
And then he summoned Eurycleia, saying,
“Telemachus gave orders you must lock the doors into the hall and tie them fast.
If any of you women hear a noise
of screaming men, stay up there in your quarters; do not come out; keep quiet and keep working.”
At that, she held her tongue and locked the doors that led into the feast-hall. Philoetius
scurried outside to bolt the outer gates 390
that led into the courtyard. On the porch lay a fresh-knotted cable made of byblos;
with that, he tied the gates, rushed in and sat back down, and looked towards Odysseus.
The master was already handling
the bow and turning it this way and that, to see if worms had eaten at the horn
while he was gone. The suitors told each other,
“He stares at it as if he were an expert
in bows. He acts the part! Perhaps he has 400
a bow like this at home or plans to make one. See how this pitiful migrant fingers it!”
One confident young suitor said, “I hope his future luck will match how well he does in stringing it!”
So he had tricked them all.
After examining the mighty bow carefully, inch by inch—as easily
as an experienced musician stretches a sheep-gut string around a lyre’s peg
and makes it fast—Odysseus, with ease, 410
strung the great bow. He held it in his right hand
and plucked the string, which sang like swallow-song, a clear sweet note. The suitors, horrified,
grew pale, and Zeus made ominous thunder rumble. Odysseus, who had so long been waiting,
was glad to hear the signal from the son of double-dealing Cronus. He took up an arrow, which was lying on the table.
The others were all packed up in the quiver,
soon to be used. He laid it on the bridge, 420
then pulled the notch-end and the string together, still sitting in his chair. With careful aim,
he shot. The weighted tip of bronze flew through each axe head and then out the other side.
He told his son,
“Telemachus, your guest does you a credit. I hit all the targets
and with no effort strung the bow. I am
still strong, despite their jibes about my weakness. Though it is daytime, it is time to feast;
and later, we can celebrate with music, 430
the joyful part of dinner.”
With his eyebrows he signaled, and his son strapped on his sword, picked up his spear, and stood beside his chair, next to his father, his bronze weapons flashing.
