What the Sea God Said
They came to Sparta, land of caves and valleys, and drove to Menelaus’ house. They found him hosting a wedding feast for many guests
to celebrate his children’s marriages.
In Troy he had declared that he would give his daughter to Achilles’ son, who ruled the Myrmidons. Now he was sending her, with dowry gifts of horse-drawn chariots;
the gods had made the marriage come to pass.
And he was welcoming a Spartan bride, 10
Alector’s daughter, for his well-loved son, strong Megapenthes, mothered by a slave. The gods had given Helen no more children after the beautiful Hermione,
image of Aphrodite all in gold.
Neighbors and family were feasting gladly under the king’s high roof. The bard was singing and strumming, and two acrobats were spinning and leading them in dance. Telemachus
and Nestor’s son stopped by the palace doors 20
and held their horses. Menelaus’ guard, Eteoneus, ran out and saw them there,
and then hurried back inside to tell his master.
“Your Majesty, there are two men outside,
strangers who seem like sons of Zeus. Please tell me, should we take off the harness from their horses?
Or send them off to find another host?”
Flushed Menelaus shouted angrily, “You used to have some brains!
Now you are talking like a silly child. 30
We two were fed by many different hosts before returning home. As we may hope for Zeus to keep us safe in future times, untack their horses! Lead them in to dine!”
So Eteoneus rushed out from the palace, and ordered other slaves to follow him.
They freed the sweating horses from their yoke and tied them by the manger, which they filled
with emmer that they mixed with bright white barley. They leaned the carriage up against the wall 40
and led their guests inside the godlike house. The boys looked round the palace in amazement: the lofty halls of famous Menelaus
shone like the dazzling light of sun or moon. When they had satisfied their eyes with staring, they went to take a bath in polished tubs.
The slave girls helped them wash and rubbed them down in olive oil, then dressed them in wool cloaks
and tunics, and then seated them beside
the son of Atreus, King Menelaus. 50
A house girl brought a basin made of silver, and water in a golden jug. She poured it over their hands to wash, then set a table
of polished wood beside them, and a humble slave girl brought bread and many canapés, a lavish spread. The carver carried platters with every kind of meat, and set before them cups made of gold. Then ruddy Menelaus welcomed them both and told them,
“Help yourselves! Enjoy the food! When you have shared our meal, 60
we will begin to ask you who you are. Your fathers must be scepter-bearing kings; the sons of peasants do not look like you.”
With that, he took the dish of rich roast meat, cut from the back, which was his special meal, and offered it to them. They reached their hands to take the food set out in front of them.
After their thirst and hunger had been sated, Telemachus turned round to Nestor’s son,
ducking his head so no one else could hear. 70
“Pisistratus! Dear friend, do you see how
these echoing halls are shining bright with bronze, and silver, gold and ivory and amber?
It is as full of riches as the palace
of Zeus on Mount Olympus! I am struck with awe.” When Menelaus heard his words,
he spoke to them in turn—his words flew out.
“No mortal, my dear boys, can rival Zeus.
His halls and home and property are deathless.
Some man may match my wealth; or maybe not. 80
I suffered for it. I was lost, adrift
at sea for eight long years. I traipsed through Cyprus, Phoenicia, Egypt, Ethiopia,
Sidon and Araby, and Libya,
where lambs are born with horns—their ewes give birth three times a year. The master and his slave
have milk and cheese and meat; the flock provides sweet milk year round. But while I wandered there accumulating wealth, someone crept in
and killed my brother; his own scheming wife 90
betrayed him. I can take no joy in all
my wealth. Whoever they may be, your fathers have surely told you how much I have suffered!
I lost my lovely home, and I was parted
for many years from all my splendid riches.
I wish I had stayed here, with just a third of all the treasure I have now acquired, if those who died at Troy, so far away
from Argive pastures, were alive and well.
I sit here in my palace, mourning all 100
who died, and often weeping. Sometimes tears bring comfort to my heart, but not for long; cold grief grows sickening. I miss them all, but one man most. When I remember him,
I cannot eat or sleep, since no one labored like him—Odysseus. His destiny
was suffering, and mine the endless pain of missing him. We do not even know
if he is still alive—he has been gone
so long. His faithful wife and old Laertes 110
must grieve for him, and young Telemachus, who was a newborn when he went away.”
These words roused in the boy a desperate need to mourn his father. Tears rolled down his face and splashed down on the ground. He lifted up his cloak to hide his eyes. But Menelaus noticed and wondered whether he should wait until the boy first spoke about his father,
or ask. As he was hesitating, Helen
emerged from her high-ceilinged, fragrant bedroom, 120
like Artemis, who carries golden arrows. Adraste set a special chair for her, Alcippe spread upon it soft wool blankets, and Phylo brought a silver sewing basket, given to her by Alcandre, the wife
of Polybus, who lived in Thebes, in Egypt, where people have extraordinary wealth.
He gave two silver tubs to Menelaus,
a pair of tripods and ten pounds of gold.
His wife gave other lovely gifts for Helen: 130
a golden spindle and this silver basket
on wheels; the rims were finished off with gold. Phylo, her girl, brought out that basket now, packed full of yarn she had already spun.
A spindle wound around with purple wool was laid across it. She sat down and put
her feet upon a stool, and asked her husband,
“Do we know who these men are, Menelaus, who have arrived here in our house? Shall I
conceal my thoughts or speak? I feel compelled 140
to say, the sight of them amazes me.
I never saw two people so alike
as this boy and Telemachus, the son of spirited Odysseus, the child
he left behind, a little newborn baby,
the day the Greeks marched off to Troy, their minds fixated on the war and violence.
They made my face the cause that hounded them.”
High-colored Menelaus answered, “Wife,
I saw the likeness too. Odysseus 150
had hands like those, those legs, that hair, that head, that glancing gaze. And when I spoke just now about Odysseus and all the things
he suffered for my sake, the boy grimaced,
and floods of tears were rolling down his cheeks; he raised his purple cloak to hide his eyes.”
Pisistratus, the son of Nestor, spoke. “King Menelaus, you are right. This is
that warrior’s true-born son, just as you said.
But he is shy and feels he should not speak 160
too boldly in your presence right away.
Your voice is like a god’s to us. Lord Nestor sent me to guide him here. He longed to see you to get some news from you or some advice.
A son whose father is away will suffer intensely, if he has no man at home
to help him. In the absence of his father, Telemachus has no one to protect him.”
Then Menelaus answered, “So the son
of my dear friend, who worked so hard for me, 170
has come here to my house! I always thought
that I would greet that friend with warmth beyond all other Argives, if Zeus let us sail
home with all speed across the sea. I would have brought him from Ithaca, with all his wealth,
his son and people, and bestowed on him a town in Argos, driving out the natives
from somewhere hereabouts under my rule. We would have constantly spent time together.
Nothing would have divided us in love 180
and joy, till death’s dark cloud surrounded us. But I suppose the god begrudged our friendship, and kept that poor, unlucky man from home.”
His words made everybody want to cry. Helen was weeping, as was Menelaus.
Pisistratus’ eyes were full of tears for irreplaceable Antilochus,
killed by the noble son of shining Dawn. Mindful of him, he spoke with words like wings.
“King Menelaus, when we spoke of you 190
back home in our own halls, my father Nestor always declared you are exceptional
for common sense. So listen now to me. I disapprove of crying during dinner.
Dawn will soon come; weep then. There is no harm in mourning when a person dies; it is
the only honor we can pay the dead—
to cut our hair and drench our cheeks with tears. I had a brother named Antilochus,
one of the bravest fighters in the army, 200
a sprinter and a warrior. He died.
I never got to meet him or to see him. Perhaps you did?”
King Menelaus answered, “My friend, you speak just as a wise man should, like somebody much older than yourself.
You show your father’s wisdom in your speech.
A lineage is easy to discern
when Zeus spins out a life of happiness, in marriage and in offspring. So he gave
good luck to Nestor all his life; he aged 210
at home in comfort, and his sons are wise
and skillful spear-men. Yes, we will stop crying and turn our minds to dinner once again.
Let them pour water on our hands. At dawn, Telemachus and I can talk at length.”
At that Asphalion, the nimble house slave of mighty Menelaus, poured the water
over their hands. They helped themselves to food from laden tables. Then the child of Zeus,
Helen, decided she would mix the wine 220
with drugs to take all pain and rage away, to bring forgetfulness of every evil.
Whoever drinks this mixture from the bowl will shed no tears that day, not even if
her mother or her father die, nor even
if soldiers kill her brother or her darling
son with bronze spears before her very eyes.
Helen had these powerful magic drugs
from Polydamna, wife of Thon, from Egypt,
where fertile fields produce the most narcotics: 230
some good, some dangerous. The people there are skillful doctors. They are the Healer’s people. She mixed the wine and told the slave to pour it, and then she spoke again.
“Now Menelaus, and you two noble sons of noble men,
Zeus gives us good and bad at different times; he has the power. Sit here then and eat,
and I will entertain you with a story. Enjoy it; it is fitting to the times.
I cannot tell of all the challenges 240
steadfast Odysseus has undergone.
But I will tell you what that brave man did at Troy, when the Achaeans were in trouble. He beat himself and bruised his body badly and put a ragged cloak on, like a slave,
then shuffled through the enemy city streets. In his disguise he seemed a poor old beggar, hardly a man to sail with the Achaeans.
He crept through Troy like that, and no one knew him except for me. I saw through his disguise 250
and questioned him. He was too smart to talk, acting evasive. But I washed and scrubbed him with oil and dressed him, and I swore an oath that I would not reveal him to the Trojans before he had got back to his own camp.
He told me all the things the Greeks were planning.
On his way back, he used his long bronze sword to slaughter many Trojans, and he brought useful intelligence to tell the Greeks.
The Trojan women keened in grief, but I 260
was glad—by then I wanted to go home.
I wished that Aphrodite had not made me
go crazy, when she took me from my country, and made me leave my daughter and the bed
I shared with my fine, handsome, clever husband.” And Menelaus said,
“Yes, wife, quite right.
I have been round the world, and I have met many heroic men and known their minds.
I never saw a man so resolute
as that Odysseus. How tough he was! 270
And what impressive fortitude he showed inside the Wooden Horse! We fighters lurked inside, to bring destruction to the Trojans.
You came there too. Some spirit who desired to glorify the Trojans urged you on.
Godlike Deiphobus was following you.
Three times you went around the hollow belly, touching the hiding place, and calling on
us Greeks by name; you put on different voices
for each man’s wife. Then I and Diomedes 280
and good Odysseus, inside the horse,
heard you call out to us, and we two wanted to go out, or to answer from in there.
Odysseus prevented us from going.
Then all the other sons of the Achaeans were quiet; Anticlus still wished to answer. Odysseus’ hands clamped shut his mouth and saved us all. He held him there like that, until Athena led you far away.”
Weighing these words, Telemachus replied, 290
“But Menelaus, all this makes it worse! My father’s courage could not save his life, even if he had had a heart of iron.
So now, show us to bed. We need the comfort of being lulled into a sweet deep sleep.”
Then Argive Helen told her girls to spread beds on the porch and pile on them fine rugs of purple, and lay blankets over them,
with woolly covers on the very top.
The girls went out with torches in their hands 300
and made the beds. A slave led out the guests.
Telemachus and Nestor’s handsome son slept in the front room; Menelaus slept
far back inside the lofty house. Beside him lay marvelous Helen, in her flowing gown.
Soon Dawn was born, her fingers bright with roses. Gruff Menelaus jumped up out of bed,
got dressed and strapped his sharp sword to his shoulder, then tied his sandals on his well-oiled feet.
He went out of his bedroom like a god, 310
approached Telemachus, and spoke to him.
“What need has brought you here, Telemachus, to Sparta, over such expanse of sea?
Private or public business? Tell me truly!”
Telemachus inhaled and then replied, “King Menelaus, son of Atreus,
I came in search of news about my father.
My house is being eaten up; our wealth is ruined. My whole home is full of men
who mean me harm—my mother’s loutish suitors. 320
Each day they kill more sheep, more longhorn cattle. So I am begging you, here on my knees,
tell me the dreadful news, if he is dead! Perhaps you saw it with your eyes, or heard tales of his travels. He was surely born
to suffer in extraordinary ways.
Please do not try to sweeten bitter news from pity; tell me truly if you saw him, and how he was. If my heroic father
ever helped you at Troy when things were bad, 330
keep that in mind right now, and tell the truth.”
Flushed, Menelaus shouted out in anger,
“Damn them! Those cowards want to steal the bed of one whose heart is braver than their own.
As when a deer lays down two newborn fawns, still sucklings, in the lair of some strong lion, and goes to look for pasture, over slopes
and grassy valleys; when the lion comes back
to his own bed, he brings down doom on them— so will Odysseus upon those men. 340
O Father Zeus, Athena, and Apollo,
I pray he is as strong as when he stood to wrestle Philomeleides, on Lesbos,
and hurled him to the ground, and we all cheered. So may Odysseus attack the suitors.
May all their lives be brief, their weddings cursed! As for your questions, I will not deceive you.
I will not hide a single word I heard from that old Sea God Proteus. Although
I longed to come back home, away from Egypt, 350
the gods prevented me, since I had failed to offer perfect hecatombs. They always desire obedience. There is an island
out in the sea beside the coast of Egypt,
named Pharos. If a clear wind blows your ship, it takes all day to travel to that island.
Its harbor has good anchorage, and there men draw dark water up, and then launch off to sea. But I was held for twenty days
by gods. No winds appeared to guide my ships 360
across the water’s back. All our supplies
would have been gone, and all our hope; but then a goddess, Eidothea, pitied me—
the child of Proteus, the old sea god. She met me pacing sadly all alone.
My men were off around the island, fishing
with hooks, as usual—hunger pinched their bellies. She stood beside me and she spoke to me.
‘Stranger, are you so foolish that you choose
to give up, and take pleasure in your pain? 370
There is no end in sight; you have been stuck here on this island for so long. Your men grow weak at heart.’ I answered her and said, ‘Whoever you may be—for sure a goddess— I tell you I am trapped against my will.
I must have sinned against the deathless gods who live in heaven. Please explain which spirit is blocking me from going home across
the teeming sea. Gods must know everything.’
That shining goddess answered me at once, 380
‘Stranger, I will be frank with you. A deathless old sea god haunts this place, named Proteus of Egypt, who can speak infallibly,
who knows the depths of seas, and serves Poseidon. They say he is the one who fathered me.
If you can somehow lie in wait and catch him, he will explain how you can get back home,
plotting your path where fish leap through the waters.
And if you wish it, prince, he will explain
what happened in your home, both good and bad, 390
while you were gone on this long, painful journey.’ Those were her words. I answered, ‘Tell me, please, how I can trap this ancient god, so he
will not see me too soon, and get away.
It is not easy for a man to catch
a god.’ The goddess answered me at once, ‘Stranger, I will instruct you thoroughly.
When the sun hits the midpoint of the sky, the old god bobs above the salty water;
the breath of Zephyr hides him in dark shade. 400
He goes to take his nap inside the caves.
Around him sleep the clustering seals, the daughters of lovely Lady Brine. Their breath smells sour
from gray seawater, pungent salty depths. Select the three best men you have on board,
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and when dawn breaks, I will take all of you down to the shore, and set you in a line. Let me explain the old god’s tricks. He will first count the seals and walk around among them. |
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When he has counted them and checked them all, |
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he lies down in the middle, like a shepherd |
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among his flock of sheep. When you observe |
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him sleeping, gather all your force and strength, |
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and hold him there, despite his desperate struggles. |
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In trying to escape, he will change shape |
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to every animal on earth, and then |
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water and holy fire. You must hold fast |
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unshaken, and press harder; keep him down. |
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At last he will assume again the form |
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in which he went to sleep, and he will speak |
420 |
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and question you. Then, warrior, release |
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your forceful hold on that old god, and ask him |
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which god is angry with you, and the way |
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to cross the fish-filled waters and go home.’ |
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With that she sank beneath the deep sea waves. |
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I went down to the ships upon the sand. |
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My heart was surging in me as I walked. |
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Arriving at the ships and at the shore, |
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we made our meal. Then came immortal night; |
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we went to sleep beside the water’s edge. |
430 |
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When Dawn appeared, her fingers bright with flowers,
I walked beside the spreading sea, along the dunes, and prayed intensely to the gods.
Then I chose out my three most trusted men. The goddess dove down deep inside the sea and brought four sealskins up from underwater, new-flayed—to help her plot against her father. She scooped out hiding places in the sand,
and sat to wait. We came right up to her.
She laid us in a row, and put a skin 440
on each. It would have been a dismal hideout, stinking of salt-bred seals. Who would lie down
to rest beside a creature from the sea?
But she brought sweet ambrosia to save us. She very kindly put it in our nostrils,
to take away the stench of seal. We waited all morning, apprehensively. And then
out of the sea there rose a pod of seals; they lay along the shore. At noon the god
emerged above the waves. He went among 450
his fatted seals and counted out their number. He counted us among the first of them, suspecting nothing. Then he lay down too.
With a great shout we pounced on him and grabbed him. The old god still remembered all his tricks,
and first became a lion with a mane,
then snake, then leopard, then a mighty boar, then flowing water, then a leafy tree.
But we kept holding on: our hearts stood firm.
At last that ancient sorcerer grew tired, 460
and then he asked me, ‘Son of Atreus!
What god devised this plan with you and taught you to lurk and capture me against my will?
What do you want from me?’ And I replied, ‘Old god, why do you want to throw me off?
You know I have been trapped here on this island for far too long, with no way out; my heart
grows faint. So tell me—gods know everything— what spirit stops my journey? And how can I
get home across the watery shoals of fish?’ 470
At once he answered me and told me this: ‘You should have given Zeus and other gods fine offerings, to speed your journey home across the wine-dark sea. It is your fate
not to go home or see the ones you love until you go again to Egypt’s river, watered by Zeus, and kill a hundred cows,
to please the deathless gods who live in heaven. Then they will let you travel where you wish.’
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I felt heartbroken that I had to cross 480 |
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the misty sea and go again to Egypt: |
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a long and bitter journey! But I answered, |
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‘Sir, I will do exactly as you say. |
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But come now, tell me this, and tell me truly, |
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did all the Greeks sail safely home by ship, |
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whom Nestor and myself left there in Troy? |
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Did any meet a dreadful death at sea, |
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on his own ship, or in familiar arms, |
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after the war wound up?’ When I said this, |
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at once he answered me and said these words. |
490 |
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‘O son of Atreus! Why ask me this? |
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You have no need to know or learn my mind. |
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When I have told you, you will not be long |
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able to hold back tears. So many men |
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were killed, and many left behind at Troy. |
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Just two of all the bronze-clad captains died |
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while traveling back home; one more perhaps |
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may be alive, trapped somewhere out at sea. |
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first drove him to the rocks of Gyrae, then |
500 |
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rescued him from the sea; he would have lived, |
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despite Athena’s hatred, but he made |
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a crazy boast—that he survived the waves |
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against the wishes of the gods. Poseidon |
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heard his rash words. At once, he seized his trident |
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in mighty hands, and hit the Gyran rock. |
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One half remained; the other, on which Ajax |
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sat as he boasted, cracked right off and fell |
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into the sea, and carried him deep down. |
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The boundless waves washed over him; he drank |
510 |
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the salty brine, and died. But Agamemnon |
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survived—the goddess Hera saved his fleet. |
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When he had almost reached the craggy mountain |
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of Malea, a gust of wind took hold |
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and bore him over waves where fish were jumping, |
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are finished, where Thyestes used to live, and now his son Aegisthus. After that,
the route was clear: the gods made all winds fair.
Then joyfully he stepped foot in his country, 520
and touched and kissed the earth of his dear home. He wept hot floods of tears, from happiness.
But from the lookout post the watchman saw him.
Scheming Aegisthus paid that man two talents of gold to watch all year, so Agamemnon could not slip past unseen, or summon up
his will to fight. The spy rushed off to tell the King. Aegisthus formed a plan at once.
He chose the twenty best men in the land
to lurk in ambush, and he told the house slaves 530
to cook a feast. He rode out on his carriage, and summoned Agamemnon, who suspected nothing. Aegisthus killed him over dinner, just as a person kills an ox at manger.
All of the men who came with him were killed, and all those of Aegisthus; all were killed.’
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His story broke my heart, and I sat down upon the sands and wept. I did not want to go on living or to see the sun. |
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I thrashed around and wailed. When I was done, |
540 |
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the old Sea God spoke words of truth to me. |
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‘Now, son of Atreus, your endless weeping |
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has gone on long enough. It does no good. |
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Quickly, go home. You may still find Aegisthus |
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alive, or else Orestes may have come |
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and killed him; you can join his funeral.’ |
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Those words made me a man again: my heart |
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was warmed inside, despite my grief. My words |
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took wings. I said, ‘I know now of those two; |
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but name the third who may be still alive, |
550 |
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trapped somewhere in the wide expanse of sea, |
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or may be dead. I know the news may hurt, |
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but still I want to hear it.’ And he answered, |
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‘It is Laertes’ son, the Ithacan. |
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I saw him crying, shedding floods of tears |
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upon Calypso’s island, in her chambers. |
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She traps him there; he cannot go back home. |
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He has no boats with oars or crew to row him |
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across the sea’s broad back to his own land. |
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But Menelaus, it is not your fate 560 |
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to die in Argos. Gods will carry you |
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off to the world’s end, to Elysium. |
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Those fields are ruled by tawny Rhadamanthus |
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and life is there the easiest for humans. |
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There is no snow, no heavy storms or rain, |
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but Ocean always sends up gentle breezes |
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of Zephyr to refresh the people there. |
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You gain these blessings as the son-in-law |
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of Zeus through Helen.’ Then the old god sank |
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beneath the waves. I went back to my ships |
570 |
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and godlike men, and as I walked my mind |
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swirled with my many thoughts. Beside the fleet |
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we cooked and ate our meal, then holy night |
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came down; we slept beside the surging water. When early Dawn appeared and touched the sky with blossom, first we launched the balanced ships into the salty sea, put up the masts
and fixed the sails, and then the men embarked and sat on benches neatly, in their lines.
And then at once they struck the sea with oars. 580
We soon reached Egypt’s holy rain-fed river. We docked the ships and sacrificed the oxen. When I had quenched the anger of the gods, I built a mound to honor Agamemnon,
for his immortal fame. The gods at last
gave me fair wind, and sent me quickly home. But come now, stay with me here in my palace, until eleven days or twelve have passed.
Then I will send you off with precious gifts, three horses and a gleaming chariot. 590
Also a lovely cup so you can pour
gifts to the gods, and always think of me.”
Then tactfully Telemachus replied,
“Please do not keep me here so long, my lord. Indeed, I would be glad to stay a year;
I would not even miss my home or parents— I get such pleasure listening to you.
But my poor friends are surely tired of waiting in Pylos. You have made me stay too long.
And for a gift, please only give me treasure. 600
You keep your lovely horses here; I cannot transport them all the way to Ithaca.
You rule these open meadows, rich in clover, white barley in wide rows, and wheat and grass. In Ithaca, there are no fields or racetracks.
Though it is only fit for goats, we love it more than horse pasture. Islands out at sea have no good grazing—ours the least of all.”
Then Menelaus smiled and clasped his hand,
and spoke to him in his loud booming voice. 610
“My boy, your words are proof of your good blood. I will give different gifts, just as you ask.
I will give you the finest piece of treasure of all the hoard I have piled up at home:
a finely crafted bowl, of purest silver,
with gold around the rim. Hephaestus made it, and Phaedimus the king of Sidon gave it
to me, when I was visiting his house
as I was traveling home. You can have that.”
Such was their conversation. Then the guests 620
entered the palace, bringing lamb and wine
that gives one confidence. The girls, all dressed
in pretty scarves, brought bread for them. So went the feasting in the house of Menelaus.
Meanwhile, outside Odysseus’ house, the suitors were as arrogant as usual, enjoying throwing discuses and spears
out on the playing field. The two chief suitors, were sitting there: Antinous and godlike Eurymachus. Just then Noëmon, son 630
of Phronius, approached and asked a question.
“So do we know, Antinous, or not, whether Telemachus is coming back from sandy Pylos? He left with my ship.
I need it, to cross over to the fields
of Elis, where I have twelve mares with mules suckling their teats and not yet broken in.
I want to take and train one.”
They were all astonished, since they had not thought the boy
was gone to Pylos, but was somewhere near, 640
out with the sheep or pigs. Antinous said,
“Tell me true, when did he go? And who went with him? Did he choose some Ithacans,
or slaves and laborers? It could be either.
And tell me also, did he steal the ship
from you by force, or did you give it to him freely, because he asked?”
Noëmon, son of Phronius, replied, “I gave it freely.
What could I do, when someone so upset
was asking me? A noble boy like that? 650
It would have been ungracious to refuse.
The young men who were with him were high class, the best in town except ourselves. I saw
Mentor embark as captain—or perhaps
not Mentor but a god who looked like him. This puzzles me, that yesterday at dawn
I saw great Mentor here, though he had gone to Pylos in the ship.”
With that, Noëmon departed for his father’s house. Those leaders
were furious. At once they made the suitors 660
stop playing games and sit. Antinous spoke up with eyes bright as fire, his mind darkened with anger.
“Damn! That stuck-up boy succeeded in his stupid trip. We thought
he would not manage it. Telemachus
has launched a ship and picked an ideal crew, despite us all! This is the start of worse.
May Zeus destroy his strength before he reaches manhood. Give me a ship and twenty men,
so I may watch and catch him in the strait 670
in between Ithaca and craggy Same.
A sad end to this journey for his father!”
All of them praised his words, endorsed his plan, and went inside Odysseus’ palace.
Penelope was soon aware of all
the suitors’ secret plots. The house boy Medon told her, since he had been outside the courtyard and he had heard the plans they were devising. He rushed to tell her. As he stepped inside,
across the threshold, she came up and asked him, 680
“Well, boy, why have those lordly suitors sent you?
To tell godlike Odysseus’ girls
to stop their work and make a feast for them?
I hope this is their final meal! I hope
they never gather elsewhere to go courting!
You suitors who come crowding here are wasting Telemachus’ wealth! When you were younger you never paid attention to your fathers
who told you of Odysseus’ greatness.
He never spoke or acted without justice, 690
among the people. Lords are mostly biased; they favor one person and hate another.
But he did not. He did no wrong at all.
Now you! Your wicked deeds and plans are clear. No gratitude for favors from the past!”
Then knowledgeable Medon answered her, “My Queen, I wish this were the worst of it. Now they are plotting even greater ruin.
May Zeus ensure it never comes to pass!
The suitors want to kill Telemachus 700
with sharp bronze weapons on his journey home.
He went to sandy Pylos and to Sparta for word about his father.”
At the news,
her legs grew weak; her heart sank; she was struck dumb for a time, her voice blocked as her eyes filled up with tears. At last she answered him, “But why did my son go away? There was
no need to go on those swift ships that gallop like horses over miles of salty water.
Did he intend to lose his name as well, 710
and be unknown?”
And Medon said, “Perhaps some god or his own heart nudged him to go
to Pylos to find out about his father,
if he will come back home, or if he has already met his fate.” With that, he left her.
Grief wrapped around her, eating at her heart. The house was full of chairs but she could not bear to sit upright. In her bedroom doorway, collapsing on the floor, she wept and cried.
Around her all her women, young and old, 720
were whimpering. Voice thick with tears, she sobbed,
“Friends, listen! Zeus has cursed me more than all the women of my family. Already
I lost my noble, lionhearted husband, most talented and brave of all the Greeks,
whose fame is spread through Greece. And now the winds have taken my dear son, and no one told me
that he was setting out. Shame on you all! You knew that he was leaving in that ship!
Not one of you came here to wake me up! 730
If only I had known about his journey,
he would have stayed—no matter how he wanted to leave—or else have left me dead right here.
Now call old Dolius, my gardener,
the slave who cares for all my trees. My father gave him to me when I came here. Tell him
to hurry off and sit beside Laertes,
and tell him everything; he may decide
to go in tears to plead with those who want to kill godlike Odysseus’ son, 740
his grandson.”
Then the loyal Eurycleia said, “Lady, sweetheart, even if you take
a sword and kill me, I will tell the truth.
I knew all this. I gave him what he asked for, bread and sweet wine. He made me swear an oath not to inform you, till twelve days had passed,
or till you heard about it, and you missed him, so that you would not cry and spoil your beauty. Now have a bath, get changed into clean clothes,
go with your slave girls upstairs to your room. 750
Pray to Athena, child of Zeus the King.
She may save him from death. And do not bother poor old Laertes; he has pain enough.
I do not think the blessed gods despise this family; I trust that there will always be one to rule this house and rich estate.”
This soothed Penelope. She dried her tears,
and took her bath and got dressed in clean clothes, then went up to her bedroom with her girls.
She put some barley on a tray and prayed. 760
“Hear me, Athena, tireless child of Zeus,
if my quick-minded husband ever gave you fat thighs of beef or lamb here in our halls, remember now and save the son I love.
Protect him from the abuses of those suitors!” She wailed aloud; the goddess heard her prayer.
The suitors made a racket that resounded
all through the palace shadows. They were boasting, “This queen whom all of us have come here courting is ready now to marry one of us, 770
and does not even know her son will die!”
They spoke not knowing how things really stood. Antinous declared to them,
“My lords, you have to stop this bragging! Quiet down, or those inside will hear it. Now get up
in silence. We must go and follow through the plan we all agreed on in our hearts.”
With that, he picked the twenty strongest men.
They went down to the seashore; first of all
they launched the swift black ship in deep saltwater, 780
set up the mast and raised the sails and fit the oars in proper order in the straps
of leather, then spread out the bright white sails. With confidence their slaves dealt out the weapons. They moored high up the stream and disembarked. They ate there, while they waited for the evening.
Penelope lay upstairs in her bedroom, refusing food and drink, consuming nothing.
She wondered if her fine son would escape
from death, or be brought down by those proud suitors. 790
Her mind was like a lion, caught by humans, when they are clustering round him in a circle, trying to trap him; so sweet drowsiness subdued her and she slept, her limbs relaxed.
Athena, bright-eyed goddess, had a plan. She made a phantom looking like a woman, Iphthime, child of great Icarius,
the wife of Eumelus who lived in Pherae. She sent it to Odysseus’ house,
to make Penelope feel less distressed 800
and stop her tears of grief. It traveled through the latch’s thong, and in her bedroom stood above her head, and asked,
“Penelope, Are you asleep? And are you still upset?
The gods who live at ease have no desire for you to weep or worry. Know, your son
is coming home. He has not wronged the gods.”
Intelligent Penelope, still sleeping
sweetly inside the gates of dreams, replied,
“Sister, why have you come? Your house is far, 810
and you have never visited before.
You tell me to stop grieving and not feel the many pains that prickle at my heart. But long ago I lost my lionhearted husband, a man more talented than any,
famous throughout all Greece. Now my dear son has sailed off in a ship, though he knows nothing of hardship and the world; he is a child.
I worry for him more than for his father.
I shudder, I am scared of what may happen, 820
at sea, or in the country that he went to.
He has so many enemies; they plan
to murder him before he reaches home.”
The misty phantom answered her, “Have courage. Let not your heart be troubled or afraid.
He has a goddess as his guide—Athena, a helper many men have prayed to have. She has great power. Pitying your grief, she sent me here to tell you all of this.”
Careful Penelope replied, “If you 830
are actually a god, with news from gods, tell me about my husband too, poor man! Tell if he is alive and sees the sun,
or dead already in the house of Hades!”
The spirit said, “I cannot tell you whether he is alive or dead. It is not good
to speak of things intangible as wind.”
With that, the phantom floated through the air into the breeze. And then Penelope
woke up from sleep, and she was glad at heart, 840
because she dreamed so clearly in the night.
The suitors got on board and sailed across the water, set on murdering the boy.
There is a rocky island out at sea,
in between Ithaca and craggy Same,
called Asteris—quite small but with a harbor
to shelter ships, and there they lurked in ambush.
