An Old King Remembers
Leaving the Ocean’s streams, the Sun leapt up into the sky of bronze, to shine his light
for gods and mortals on the fertile earth.
Telemachus arrived in Pylos, where the Pylians were bringing to the beach
black bulls for blue Poseidon, Lord of Earthquakes. There were nine benches, fifty men on each,
and each group had nine bulls to sacrifice.
They burned the thigh-bones for the god, and ate the innards. Then the Ithacans arrived, 10
took down their sails, dropped anchor and alighted. The goddess with the flashing eyes, Athena,
first led Telemachus onshore, then spoke.
“Do not be shy, Telemachus. You sailed over the sea to ask about your father,
where the earth hides him, what his fate might be. So hurry now to Nestor, lord of horses.
Learn what advice he has in mind for you. Supplicate him yourself, and he will tell you the truth; he is not one to tell a lie.” 20
Telemachus replied, “But Mentor, how can I approach and talk to him? I am quite inexperienced at making speeches,
and as a young man, I feel awkward talking to elders.”
She looked straight into his eyes, and answered, “You will work out what to do, through your own wits and with divine assistance. The gods have blessed you in your life so far.”
So Pallas spoke and quickly led him on;
he followed in the footsteps of the goddess. 30
They reached the center of the town, where Nestor was sitting with his sons and his companions, putting the meat on spits and roasting it
for dinner. When they saw the strangers coming, they all stood up with open arms to greet them, inviting them to join them. Nestor’s son, Pisistratus, shook hands and sat them down, spreading soft fleeces on the sand beside
his father and his brother, Thrasymedes.
He served them giblets and he poured some wine 40
into a golden cup, and raised a toast
to Pallas, child of Zeus the Aegis-Lord.
“Now guest, give prayers of thanks to Lord Poseidon, and pour libations for the god. This feast
is in his honor; pay him proper dues.
Then give the boy the cup of honeyed wine, so he can offer to the deathless gods libations. Everybody needs the gods.
I give the golden chalice to you first,
because the boy is younger, more my age.” 50
He put the cup of sweet wine in her hand. Athena was impressed with his good manners, because he rightly gave it first to her.
At once she made a heartfelt prayer.
“Poseidon!
O Shaker of the Earth, do not refuse
to grant our prayer; may all these things come true.
Bring fame to Nestor and his sons, and grant gifts to the Pylians, as recompense
for this fine sacrifice. And may the quest
for which we sailed here in our swift black ship 60
succeed, and may we come home safe again.”
She made her prayer come true all by herself.
She gave Telemachus the splendid cup
with double handle, and his prayer matched hers. And then they cooked the outer parts of meat, and helped themselves to pieces, sharing round the glorious feast, till they could eat no more.
Then first Gerenian Nestor, horse-lord, spoke.
“Now that our guests are satisfied with food,
time now to talk to them and ask them questions. 70
Strangers, who are you? Where did you sail from?
Are you on business, or just scouting round like pirates on the sea, who risk their lives to ravage foreign homes?”
Telemachus was thoughtful but not shy. Athena gave him the confidence deep in his heart to ask
about his absent father, and to gain a noble reputation for himself.
|
“Great Nestor, son of Neleus,” he said, |
||
|
“You ask where I am from. I will be frank. |
80 |
|
|
I come from Ithaca, beneath Mount Neion, |
||
|
and I am here on private, family business. |
||
|
I came to gather news about my father, |
||
|
long-suffering Odysseus. They say |
||
|
he fought with you to sack the town of Troy. |
||
|
We know the place where all the other men |
||
|
who battled with the Trojans lost their lives. |
||
|
But Zeus still keeps Odysseus’ fate |
||
|
in darkness; no one knows where he was lost. |
||
|
Maybe some hostile men killed him on land, |
90 |
|
|
I beg you, tell me, did you see him die |
||
|
with your own eyes? Or have you any news |
||
|
about where he may be? He must be lost. |
||
|
His mother surely bore him for misfortune. |
||
|
You need not sweeten what you say, in pity |
||
|
or from embarrassment. Just tell me straight |
||
|
what your eyes saw of him, my noble father. |
||
|
If ever he made promises to you |
||
|
and kept his word at Troy, in times of trouble, |
100 |
|
|
remember those times now. Tell me the truth!” |
Gerenian Nestor, horse-lord, answered him,
“Dear boy, you call to mind how much we suffered, with strong, unyielding hearts, in distant lands when we were sailing over misty seas,
led by Achilles on a hunt for spoils,
and when we fought around the mighty city of Priam. Our best warriors were killed.
Ajax lies dead there, and there lies Achilles;
there lies his godlike friend and guide, Patroclus; 110
my own strong, matchless son lies dead there too, Antilochus, who fought and ran so well.
More pain, more grief—our sufferings increased. Who could recount so many, many losses?
If you stayed here five years and kept on asking how many things the fighters suffered there, you would get bored and go back home again before the story ended. Nine long years
we schemed to bring them down, and finally
Zeus made our plots succeed. Odysseus, 120
your father, if you really are his son— well, no one dared to try to equal him
in cleverness. That man was always best at every kind of trick. And seeing you,
I am amazed at how you talk like him.
One would not think so young a man could do it.
Well, back in Troy, Odysseus and I always agreed in councils, with one mind. We gave the Argives all the best advice.
After we conquered Priam’s lofty town, 130
a god dispersed the ships of the Achaeans. Zeus planned a bitter journey home for us, since some of us had neither sense nor morals. Gray-eyed Athena, daughter of the Thunder, became enraged and brought about disaster.
She set the sons of Atreus to fight
each other. Hastily, they called the people at sunset, not observing proper norms.
The men arrived already drunk on wine;
the brothers told them why they called the meeting. 140
Then Menelaus said that it was time to sail back home across the open sea. But Agamemnon disagreed entirely.
He wanted them to stay and sacrifice
to heal the sickness of Athena’s wrath— pointless! He did not know she would not yield. The minds of the immortals rarely change.
So those two stood and argued angrily,
and with a dreadful clash of arms the Greeks
leapt up on two opposing sides. We slept 150
that eerie night with hearts intent on hatred against each other—since Zeus meant us harm. At dawn one group of us dragged down our ships into the sea piled high with loot and women, while half the army still remained there, stationed with Agamemnon, shepherd of the people.
My friends and I set sail with all good speed— a god had made the choppy sea lie calm.
We came to Tenedos and sacrificed,
praying to get back home—but Zeus refused; 160
the cruel god roused yet more strife among us. Your father’s plans were always flexible:
his men turned round their prows and sailed right back to make their peace again with Agamemnon.
But I assembled all my fleet, and fled—
I understood some god must mean us harm. Then Diomedes roused his men to come, and ruddy Menelaus quickly sailed
to meet with us on Lesbos, and we pondered
our long sea journey. Should we travel north, 170
go past the rocks of Chios to our left, to Psyria, or under Chios, passing
blustery Mimas? So we prayed for signs. The god told us to cross the open sea towards Euboea, to escape disaster.
A fair wind whistled and our ships sped on across the journey-ways of fish, and landed at nightfall in Geraestus. To Poseidon
we offered many bulls, since we had crossed
safely across wide waters. The fourth day 180
the men of Diomedes moored their ships at Argos; I kept going on, to Pylos.
The wind the god had sent kept holding strong the whole way home. So, my dear boy, I have no news about what happened next. I do not know which of them has died and who is safe. But I can tell you what I heard while sitting here in my halls. You ought to know. They say Achilles’ son led home the Myrmidons,
and Philoctetes came back home with glory. 190
And Idomeneus led back his crew
to Crete; no man of his who had survived the war was lost at sea. And Agamemnon?
You must have heard, though you live far away.
Aegisthus murdered him! But he has paid a bitter price. How fortunate the dead man had left a son to take revenge upon
the wicked, scheming killer, that Aegisthus, who killed Orestes’ father. My dear boy,
I see that you are tall and strong. Be brave, 200
so you will be remembered.”
Thoughtfully Telemachus replied, “Your Majesty,
King Nestor, yes. Orestes took revenge.
The Greeks will make him famous through the world and into future times. I wish the gods
would grant me that much power against those men who threaten and insult me—those cruel suitors!
The gods have not yet granted us this blessing, my father and myself. We must endure.”
Gerenian Nestor, lord of horses, answered, 210
“Dear boy, since you have brought the subject up, I have been told about your mother’s suitors,
how badly they are treating you at home. But do you willingly submit to it?
Or has a god’s voice led the townspeople
to hate you? Well, who knows, perhaps one day he will come home and take revenge, alone,
or with an army of the Greeks. If only Athena loved you, as she used to care
for glorious Odysseus at Troy 220
when we were doing badly. I have never seen gods display such favor as she gave
when she stood by your father. If she helped you with that much love, the suitors would forget their hopes for marriage.”
Then Telemachus replied, “My lord, I doubt that this will happen.
I am surprised you have such confidence.
I would not be so hopeful, even if the gods were willing.”
Then the goddess spoke. “Telemachus, what do you mean? A god 230
can easily save anyone, at will,
no matter what the distance. I would rather suffer immensely, but then get home safe, than die on my return like Agamemnon, murdered by his own wife, and by Aegisthus.
But death is universal. Even gods cannot protect the people that they love,
when fate and cruel death catch up with them.”
Telemachus said apprehensively,
“Mentor, this is upsetting. Change the subject. 240
He has no real chance now of getting home.
The gods have fenced him round with death and darkness.
Let me ask Nestor something else—he is wiser and more informed than anyone.
They say he ruled for three whole generations. He looks to me like some immortal god.
So Nestor, son of Neleus, tell me truly, how did the great King Agamemnon die? And where was Menelaus? Was he lost,
away from Greece, when that Aegisthus dared 250
to kill a king, a better man than him?
How did that wicked trickster’s plot succeed?”
Gerenian Nestor, lord of horses, answered,
“I will tell everything—though you can guess what would have happened if fair Menelaus had found Aegisthus living in his halls
on his return. And even when he died, no one would bury him; he lay upon the open plain without a tomb and far
from town for birds and dogs to eat. No Greek 260
would mourn that monster. While we fought and labored at Troy, this layabout sat safe in Argos,
seducing Clytemnestra, noble wife
of Agamemnon. For a while, she scorned
his foul suggestions, since her heart was good. Moreover, when her husband went to Troy,
he left a poet, ordered to protect her.
But finally Fate forced the queen to yield.
Aegisthus left the poet to be eaten
by birds, abandoned on a desert island. 270
He led the woman back to his own house by mutual desire, and then he made numerous offerings on holy altars
of animals and lovely gold and cloth: he had succeeded far beyond his hopes.
And meanwhile, I left Troy with Menelaus; we sailed together, best of friends. We reached the holy cape of Athens, Sounion.
There Phoebus with his gentle arrows shot
and killed the pilot, Phrontis, as he held 280
the ship’s helm as she sped along. No man knew better how to steer through any storm, so Menelaus stopped to bury him
with proper rites. At last he sailed again across the wine-dark sea; but as his ships rushed round the craggy heights of Malea, far-seeing Zeus sent curses on his journey,
pouring out screaming winds and giant waves the size of mountains—splitting up the fleet.
Some ships were hurled to Crete, to River Jardan, 290
where the Cydonian people have their homes. There steep rock rises sheer above the sea near Gortyn in the misty deep; south winds
drive mighty waves towards the left-hand crag, and push them west to Phaestus; one small rock restrains the massive currents. All the ships
were smashed by waves against those rocks. The men were almost drowned. Five other dark-prowed ships were blown by wind and sea away to Egypt.
There Menelaus gathered wealth and gold 300
and drifted with his ships through foreign lands.
Meanwhile at home, Aegisthus had been plotting.
He killed the son of Atreus and seized control of rich Mycenae, where he reigned for seven years. But in the eighth, Orestes
came to destroy him. He returned from Athens, and killed his father’s murderer, then called
the Argives to a funeral, a feast
for clever, scheming, cowardly Aegisthus
whom he had killed, and his own hated mother. 310
That very day, rambunctious Menelaus
arrived with all his ships crammed full of treasure.
The moral is, you must not stay away
too long, dear boy, when those proud suitors lurk inside your house. They may divide your wealth among themselves and make your journey useless. But I suggest you go to Menelaus.
He recently returned from lands so distant no one would even hope to get home safe
once driven by the winds so far off course, 320
over such dangerous, enormous seas.
Birds migrate there and take a year or more to travel back. Go visit him by ship
with your own crew. Or if you would prefer, you can go there by land—here is a carriage. My sons can guide you all the way to Sparta, to Menelaus. Ask him for the truth.
He will not lie; he is an honest man.”
The sun went down and darkness fell. The goddess, bright-eyed Athena, spoke to them.
“King Nestor, 330
your speech was good and your advice was sound. But now slice up the tongues and pour the wine for Lord Poseidon and the other gods
before we rest—time now to go to bed.
The light is fading and it is not right to linger at a banquet in the dark.”
The people listened to Athena’s words.
The house slaves poured fresh water on their hands, and boys filled up the mixing bowls with wine,
and poured it into cups, and first prepared 340
the sacrifice. They threw tongues on the fire, then sprinkled wine, then each man drank his fill.
Then Zeus’ daughter and the godlike boy both rose to go together to their ship.
But Nestor called to stop them.
“Zeus forbids it!
And all the other gods who live forever!
You cannot leave my house for your swift ship as if I were a poor and ragged man
with so few beds and blankets in his home
that neither he nor guests can sleep in comfort. 350
I have soft quilts and blankets in abundance.
The darling son of great Odysseus
must not sleep on the ship’s deck, while I live! Not while my sons remain here in my house, ready to welcome anyone who visits.”
The bright-eyed goddess answered him, “Old friend, you are quite right. Telemachus should do
just as you say. That is a better plan.
He will stay here tonight and go to sleep
in your fine palace. But I must go back 360
to tell the crew the news and keep them strong. You see, I am the oldest in our party.
The rest are younger men, close friends together, the same age as our brave Telemachus.
I will sleep there beside the hollow ship. At dawn I have important obligations:
to visit with the great Cauconians.
The boy can be your guest. Then send him off escorted by your son. Give him a carriage,
drawn by your strongest and most nimble horses.” 370
Bright-eyed Athena flew away, transformed into an ossifrage. Astonishment
seized all the people watching, even Nestor. He seized Telemachus’ hand and said,
“Dear boy, I am now sure that you will be a hero, since the gods are on your side
at your young age. This was a god, none other than great Athena, true-born child of Zeus, who also glorified your noble father.
Goddess, be kind to us as well, and grant 380
honor to me, my good wife, and our sons. Now I will sacrifice a yearling heifer,
broad-browed and still unyoked, and gild her horns with gold to bless your journey.”
So he spoke, and Pallas heard his prayer. Gerenian Nestor
led them and led his sons and sons-in-law inside his own magnificent great hall.
When they were all inside, he seated them on benches and on chairs arranged in order,
and he himself mixed up the bowl for them 390
of sweet delicious wine. He had preserved it eleven years. The slave girl opened it, pulling the lid off. As the old man mixed, he prayed and poured libations for Athena.
They all poured also, then they drank their fill, then each went home to sleep in his own chamber.
Nestor the horseman made a special bed
right there for his dear friend, the warrior’s son: a camp bed on the echoing portico,
beside Pisistratus, the only son 400
not living with a wife but still at home. Nestor himself slept by his wife, the queen, in a secluded corner of the palace.
When newborn Dawn appeared with rosy fingers, the horse-lord Nestor jumped up out of bed,
and hurried down towards the polished stones that stood outside his palace, bright with oil. There Neleus used to give godlike advice, until Fate took him and he went to Hades,
and Nestor, guardian of the Greeks, took over 410
the scepter. From their rooms his sons arrived to throng around him: Echephron and Stratius, Aretus, Perseus, great Thrasymedes,
and strong Pisistratus the sixth. They brought godlike Telemachus to sit with them.
Nestor spoke first.
“Dear sons, now hurry up, fulfill my wishes. First we must appease
Athena, who revealed herself to me during the holy feast. Now one of you
must run down to the fields to choose a cow; 420
let herdsmen drive her back here. And another, go to Telemachus’ ship and bring
the men—leave only two behind. Another must bring Laerces here, who pours the gold, so he can gild the heifer’s horns. You others, stay here together. Tell the girls inside
to cook a royal feast, and set out seats,
put wood around the altar, and clear water.”
At that, the sons all got to work. The cow
was brought up from the field. The crew arrived 430
from the swift, solid ship. The goldsmith came with all the bronze tools useful for his trade— hammer and anvil and well-crafted tongs— and worked the gold. Athena came to take
the sacrifice. King Nestor gave the gold;
the craftsman poured it on the horns, to make a lovely offering to please the goddess.
Stratius and Echephron together led the heifer by the horns. Aretes came
and brought a water bowl adorned with flowers, 440
and in his other hand, a box of grain. Strong Thrasymedes stood nearby and held a sharpened axe, prepared to strike the cow. Perseus held the blood-bowl. Nestor started to sprinkle barley-groats and ritual water, and as he threw the hairs into the fire
he said prayers to Athena. When the rites were finished, mighty Thrasymedes struck. The axe sliced through the sinews of the neck.
The cow was paralyzed. Then Nestor’s daughters 450
and his sons’ wives, and his own loyal queen,
Eurydice, began to chant. The men hoisted the body, and Pisistratus
sliced through her throat. Black blood poured out. The life was gone. They butchered her, cut out the thighs,
all in the proper place, and covered them
with double fat and placed raw flesh upon them. The old king burned the pieces on the logs,
and poured the bright red wine. The young men came
to stand beside him holding five-pronged forks. 460
They burned the thigh-bones thoroughly and tasted the entrails, then carved up the rest and skewered the meat on pointed spits, and roasted it.
Meanwhile, Telemachus was being washed by Nestor’s eldest daughter, Polycaste.
When she had washed and rubbed his skin with oil she dressed him in a tunic and fine cloak
and he emerged; his looks were like a god’s. He sat by Nestor, shepherd of the people.
The meat was roasted and drawn off the spits. 470
They sat to eat, while trained slaves served the food, pouring the wine for them in golden cups.
After their hunger and their thirst were gone, Gerenian Nestor, horse-lord, started talking.
“My sons, now bring two horses with fine manes and yoke them to the carriage, so our guest
can start his journey.”
They obeyed at once, and quickly latched swift horses to the carriage. One of the house girls brought out food and wine and delicacies fit to feed a king. 480
Telemachus got in the lovely carriage; Pisistratus, the son of Nestor, followed, and sat beside him, taking up the reins, and whipped the horses. Eagerly they flew off for the open plain, and left the town.
All day they ran and made the harness rattle.
At sunset when the streets grew dark, they came to Pherae, to the home of Diocles,
son of Ortilochus; Alpheus was
his grandfather. They spent the night as guests. 490
When rosy-fingered Dawn came bright and early, they yoked the horses to the painted carriage, and drove out from the gate and echoing porch.
At a light touch of whip, the horses flew. Swiftly they drew towards their journey’s end, on through the fields of wheat, until the sun began to set and shadows filled the streets.
