Odyssey

Cyllenian Hermes, with his golden rod,

Ἑρμῆς δὲ ψυχὰς Κυλλήνιος ἐξεκαλεῖτο

The Wooers' souls, that yet retain'd abode

ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων· ἔχε δὲ ῥάβδον μετὰ χερσὶν

Amidst their bodies, call'd in dreadful rout

καλὴν χρυσείην, τῇ τʼ ἀνδρῶν ὄμματα θέλγει

Forth to th' Infernals; who came murmuring out.

ὧν ἐθέλει, τοὺς δʼ αὖτε καὶ ὑπνώοντας ἐγείρει·

And as amidst the desolate retreat

τῇ ῥʼ ἄγε κινήσας, ταὶ δὲ τρίζουσαι ἕποντο.

Of some vast cavern, made the sacred seat

ὡς δʼ ὅτε νυκτερίδες μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο

Of austere spirits, bats with breasts and wings

τρίζουσαι ποτέονται, ἐπεί κέ τις ἀποπέσῃσιν

Clasp fast the walls, and each to other clings,

ὁρμαθοῦ ἐκ πέτρης, ἀνά τʼ ἀλλήλῃσιν ἔχονται,

But, swept off from their coverts, up they rise

ὣς αἱ τετριγυῖαι ἅμʼ ἤϊσαν· ἦρχε δʼ ἄρα σφιν

And fly with murmurs in amazeful guise

Ἑρμείας ἀκάκητα κατʼ εὐρώεντα κέλευθα.

About the cavern; so these, grumbling, rose

πὰρ δʼ ἴσαν Ὠκεανοῦ τε ῥοὰς καὶ Λευκάδα πέτρην,

And flock'd together. Down before them goes

ἠδὲ παρʼ Ἠελίοιο πύλας καὶ δῆμον ὀνείρων

None-hurting Mercury to Hell's broad ways,

ἤϊσαν· αἶψα δʼ ἵκοντο κατʼ ἀσφοδελὸν λειμῶνα,

And straight to those straits; where the ocean stays

ἔνθα τε ναίουσι ψυχαί, εἴδωλα καμόντων.

His lofty current in calm deeps, they flew,

εὗρον δὲ ψυχὴν Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος

Then to the snowy rock they next withdrew,

καὶ Πατροκλῆος καὶ ἀμύμονος Ἀντιλόχοιο

And to the close of Phœbus' orient gates,

Αἴαντός θʼ, ὃς ἄριστος ἔην εἶδός τε δέμας τε

The nation then of dreams, and then the states

τῶν ἄλλων Δαναῶν μετʼ ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐδαο

Of those souls' idols that the weary dead

ὣς οἱ μὲν περὶ κεῖνον ὁμίλεον· ἀγχίμολον δὲ

Gave up in earth, which in a flow'ry mead

ἤλυθʼ ἔπι ψυχὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο

Had habitable situatión.

ἀχνυμένη· περὶ δʼ ἄλλαι ἀγηγέραθʼ, ὅσσαι ἅμʼ αὐτῷ

And there they saw the soul of Thetis' son,

οἴκῳ ἐν Αἰγίσθοιο θάνον καὶ πότμον ἐπέσπον.

Of good Patroclus, brave Antilochus,

τὸν προτέρη ψυχὴ προσεφώνεε Πηλεΐωνος·

And Ajax, the supremely strenuous

Ἀτρεΐδη, περὶ μέν σʼ ἔφαμεν Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ

Of all the Greek host next Pelëion;

ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων φίλον ἔμμεναι ἤματα πάντα,

All which assembled about Maia's son.

οὕνεκα πολλοῖσίν τε καὶ ἰφθίμοισιν ἄνασσες

And to them, after, came the mournful ghost

δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχομεν ἄλγεʼ Ἀχαιοί.

Of Agamemnon, with all those he lost

ἦ τʼ ἄρα καὶ σοὶ πρῶϊ παραστήσεσθαι ἔμελλεν

In false Ægisthus' court. Achilles then

μοῖρʼ ὀλοή, τὴν οὔ τις ἀλεύεται ὅς κε γένηται.

Beholding there that mighty king of men,

ὡς ὄφελες τιμῆς ἀπονήμενος, ἧς περ ἄνασσες,

Deplor'd his plight, and said: "O Atreus' son!

δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων θάνατον καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν·

Of all heroës, all opinion

τῷ κέν τοι τύμβον μὲν ἐποίησαν Παναχαιοί,

Gave thee for Jove's most lov'd, since most command

ἠδέ κε καὶ σῷ παιδὶ μέγα κλέος ἤραʼ ὀπίσσω·

Of all the Greeks he gave thy eminent hand

νῦν δʼ ἄρα σʼ οἰκτίστῳ θανάτῳ εἵμαρτο ἁλῶναι.

At siege of Ilion, where we suffer'd so.

τὸν δʼ αὖτε ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀτρείδαο·

And is the issue this, that first in woe

ὄλβιε Πηλέος υἱέ, θεοῖς ἐπιείκελʼ Ἀχιλλεῦ,

Stern Fate did therefore set thy sequel down?

ὃς θάνες ἐν Τροίῃ ἑκὰς Ἄργεος· ἀμφὶ δέ σʼ ἄλλοι

None borne past others' Fates can pass his own.

κτείνοντο Τρώων καὶ Ἀχαιῶν υἷες ἄριστοι,

I wish to heav'n that in the height of all

μαρνάμενοι περὶ σεῖο· σὺ δʼ ἐν στροφάλιγγι κονίης

Our pomp at Ilion Fate had sign'd thy fall,

κεῖσο μέγας μεγαλωστί, λελασμένος ἱπποσυνάων.

That all the Greeks might have advanc'd to thee

ἡμεῖς δὲ πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐμαρνάμεθʼ· οὐδέ κε πάμπαν

A famous sepulchre, and Fame might see

παυσάμεθα πτολέμου, εἰ μὴ Ζεὺς λαίλαπι παῦσεν.

Thy son giv'n honour in thy honour'd end!

αὐτὰρ ἐπεί σʼ ἐπὶ νῆας ἐνείκαμεν ἐκ πολέμοιο,

But now a wretched death did Fate extend

κάτθεμεν ἐν λεχέεσσι, καθήραντες χρόα καλὸν

To thy confusion and thy issue's shame."

ὕδατί τε λιαρῷ καὶ ἀλείφατι· πολλὰ δέ σʼ ἀμφὶ

"O Thetis' son," said he, "the vital flame

δάκρυα θερμὰ χέον Δαναοὶ κείροντό τε χαίτας.

Extinct at Ilion, far from th' Argive fields,

μήτηρ δʼ ἐξ ἁλὸς ἦλθε σὺν ἀθανάτῃς ἁλίῃσιν

The style of Blessed to thy virtue yields.

ἀγγελίης ἀΐουσα· βοὴ δʼ ἐπὶ πόντον ὀρώρει

About thy fall the best of Greece and Troy

θεσπεσίη, ὑπὸ δὲ τρόμος ἔλλαβε πάντας Ἀχαιούς·

Were sacrific'd to slaughter. Thy just joy

καί νύ κʼ ἀναΐξαντες ἔβαν κοίλας ἐπὶ νῆας,

Conceiv'd in battle with some worth forgot

εἰ μὴ ἀνὴρ κατέρυκε παλαιά τε πολλά τε εἰδώς,

In such a death as great Apollo shot

Νέστωρ, οὗ καὶ πρόσθεν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή·

At thy encounters. Thy brave person lay

ὅ σφιν ἐϋφρονέων ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·

Hid in a dusty whirlwind, that made way

ἴσχεσθʼ, Ἀργεῖοι, μὴ φεύγετε, κοῦροι Ἀχαιῶν·

With human breaths spent in thy ruin's state

μήτηρ ἐξ ἁλὸς ἥδε σὺν ἀθανάτῃς ἁλίῃσιν

Thou, great, wert greatly valued in thy fate.

ἔρχεται, οὗ παιδὸς τεθνηότος ἀντιόωσα.

All day we fought about thee; nor at all

ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἔσχοντο φόβου μεγάθυμοι Ἀχαιοί·

Had ceas'd our conflict, had not Jove let fall

ἀμφὶ δέ σʼ ἔστησαν κοῦραι ἁλίοιο γέροντος

A storm that forc'd off our unwilling feet.

οἴκτρʼ ὀλοφυρόμεναι, περὶ δʼ ἄμβροτα εἵματα ἕσσαν.

But, having brought thee from the fight to fleet,

Μοῦσαι δʼ ἐννέα πᾶσαι ἀμειβόμεναι ὀπὶ καλῇ

Thy glorious person, bath'd and balm'd, we laid

θρήνεον· ἔνθα κεν οὔ τινʼ ἀδάκρυτόν γʼ ἐνόησας

Aloft a bed; and round about thee paid

Ἀργείων· τοῖον γὰρ ὑπώρορε Μοῦσα λίγεια.

The Greeks warm tears to thy deplor'd decease,

ἑπτὰ δὲ καὶ δέκα μέν σε ὁμῶς νύκτας τε καὶ ἦμαρ

Quite daunted, cutting all their curls' increase.

κλαίομεν ἀθάνατοί τε θεοὶ θνητοί τʼ ἄνθρωποι·

Thy death drave a divine voice through the seas

ὀκτωκαιδεκάτῃ δʼ ἔδομεν πυρί, πολλὰ δέ σʼ ἀμφὶ

That started up thy mother from the waves;

μῆλα κατεκτάνομεν μάλα πίονα καὶ ἕλικας βοῦς.

And all the márine Godheads left their caves,

καίεο δʼ ἔν τʼ ἐσθῆτι θεῶν καὶ ἀλείφατι πολλῷ

Consorting to our fleet her rapt repair.

καὶ μέλιτι γλυκερῷ· πολλοὶ δʼ ἥρωες Ἀχαιοὶ

The Greeks stood frighted to see sea and air

And earth combine so in thy loss's sense,

Had taken ship and fled for ever thence,

If old much-knowing-Nestor had not stay'd

Their rushing off; his counsels having sway'd

In all times former with such cause their courses;

Who bade contain themselves, and trust their forces,

For all they saw was Thetis come from sea,

With others of the wat'ry progeny,

To see and mourn for her deceaséd son.

Which stay'd the fears that all to flight had won;

And round about thee stood th' old sea-God's Seeds

Wretchedly mourning, their immortal weeds

Spreading upon thee. All the sacred Nine

Of deathless Muses paid thee dues divine,

By varied turns their heav'nly voices venting,

All in deep passion for thy death consenting.

And then of all our army not an eye

You could have seen undrown'd in misery,

The moving Muse so rul'd in ev'ry mind.

Full seventeen days and nights our tears confin'd

To celebration of thy mournéd end;

Both men and Gods did in thy moan contend.

τεύχεσιν ἐρρώσαντο πυρὴν πέρι καιομένοιο,

The eighteenth day we spent about thy heap

πεζοί θʼ ἱππῆές τε· πολὺς δʼ ὀρυμαγδὸς ὀρώρει

Of dying fire. Black oxen, fattest sheep

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δή σε φλὸξ ἤνυσεν Ἡφαίστοιο,

We slew past number. Then the precious spoil,

ἠῶθεν δή τοι λέγομεν λεύκʼ ὀστέʼ, Ἀχιλλεῦ,

Thy corse, we took up, which with floods of oil

οἴνῳ ἐν ἀκρήτῳ καὶ ἀλείφατι· δῶκε δὲ μήτηρ

And pleasant honey we embalm'd, and then

χρύσεον ἀμφιφορῆα· Διωνύσοιο δὲ δῶρον

Wrapp'd thee in those robes that the Gods did rain.

φάσκʼ ἔμεναι, ἔργον δὲ περικλυτοῦ Ἡφαίστοιο.

In which we gave thee to the hallow'd flame;

ἐν τῷ τοι κεῖται λεύκʼ ὀστέα, φαίδιμʼ Ἀχιλλεῦ,

To which a number of heroical name,

μίγδα δὲ Πατρόκλοιο Μενοιτιάδαο θανόντος,

As prest to sacrifice their vital right

χωρὶς δʼ Ἀντιλόχοιο, τὸν ἔξοχα τῖες ἁπάντων

To thy dead ruins while so bright they burn'd.

τῶν ἄλλων ἑτάρων, μετὰ Πάτροκλόν γε θανόντα.

Both foot and horse brake in, and fought and mourn'd

ἀμφʼ αὐτοῖσι δʼ ἔπειτα μέγαν καὶ ἀμύμονα τύμβον

In infinite tumult. But when all the night

χεύαμεν Ἀργείων ἱερὸς στρατὸς αἰχμητάων

The rich flame lasted, and that wasted quite

ἀκτῇ ἔπι προὐχούσῃ, ἐπὶ πλατεῖ Ἑλλησπόντῳ,

Thy body was with the enamour'd fire:

ὥς κεν τηλεφανὴς ἐκ ποντόφιν ἀνδράσιν εἴη

We came in early morn, and an entire

τοῖς οἳ νῦν γεγάασι καὶ οἳ μετόπισθεν ἔσονται.

Collection made of ev'ry ivory bone;

μήτηρ δʼ αἰτήσασα θεοὺς περικαλλέʼ ἄεθλα

Which wash'd in wine, and giv'n fit unctión,

θῆκε μέσῳ ἐν ἀγῶνι ἀριστήεσσιν Ἀχαιῶν.

A two-ear'd bowl of gold thy mother gave,

ἤδη μὲν πολέων τάφῳ ἀνδρῶν ἀντεβόλησας

By Bacchus giv'n her and did form receive

ἡρώων, ὅτε κέν ποτʼ ἀποφθιμένου βασιλῆος

From Vulcan's famous hand, which, O renown'd

ζώννυνταί τε νέοι καὶ ἐπεντύνονται ἄεθλα·

Great Thetis' son, with thy fair bones we crown'd

ἀλλά κε κεῖνα μάλιστα ἰδὼν θηήσαο θυμῷ,

Mix'd with the bones of Menœtiades

οἷʼ ἐπὶ σοὶ κατέθηκε θεὰ περικαλλέʼ ἄεθλα,

And brave Antilochus; who, in decease

ἀργυρόπεζα Θέτις· μάλα γὰρ φίλος ἦσθα θεοῖσιν.

Of thy Patroclus, was thy favour's dear.

ὣς σὺ μὲν οὐδὲ θανὼν ὄνομʼ ὤλεσας, ἀλλά τοι αἰεὶ

About thee then a matchless sepulchre

πάντας ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους κλέος ἔσσεται ἐσθλόν, Ἀχιλλεῦ,

The sacred host of the Achaians rais'd

αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τί τόδʼ ἦδος, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσα;

Upon the Hellespont, where most it seiz'd,

ἐν νόστῳ γάρ μοι Ζεὺς μήσατο λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον

For height and conspicuity, the eyes

Αἰγίσθου ὑπὸ χερσὶ καὶ οὐλομένης ἀλόχοιο.

Of living men and their posterities.

ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,

Thy mother then obtain'd the Gods' consent

ἀγχίμολον δέ σφʼ ἦλθε διάκτορος ἀργεϊφόντης,

To institute an honour'd game, that spent

ψυχὰς μνηστήρων κατάγων Ὀδυσῆϊ δαμέντων,

The best approvement of our Grecian fames.

τὼ δʼ ἄρα θαμβήσαντʼ ἰθὺς κίον, ὡς ἐσιδέσθην.

In whose praise I must say that many games

ἔγνω δὲ ψυχὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο

About heroës' sepulchres mine eyes

παῖδα φίλον Μελανῆος, ἀγακλυτὸν Ἀμφιμέδοντα·

Have seen perform'd, but these bore off the prize

ξεῖνος γάρ οἱ ἔην Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκία ναίων.

With miracles to me from all before.

τὸν προτέρη ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀτρεΐδαο·

In which thy silver-footed mother bore

Ἀμφίμεδον, τί παθόντες ἐρεμνὴν γαῖαν ἔδυτε

The institution's name, but thy deserts,

πάντες κεκριμένοι καὶ ὁμήλικες; οὐδέ κεν ἄλλως

Being great with heav'n, caus'd all the eminent parts.

κρινάμενος λέξαιτο κατὰ πτόλιν ἄνδρας ἀρίστους.

And thus, through all the worst effects of Fate,

ἦ ὔμμʼ ἐν νήεσσι Ποσειδάων ἐδάμασσεν,

Achilles' fame ev'n Death shall propagate.

ὄρσας ἀργαλέους ἀνέμους καὶ κύματα μακρά;

While anyone shall lend the light an eye

ἦ που ἀνάρσιοι ἄνδρες ἐδηλήσαντʼ ἐπὶ χέρσου

Divine Æacides shall never die.

βοῦς περιταμνομένους ἠδʼ οἰῶν πώεα καλά,

But wherein can these comforts be conceiv'd

ἠὲ περὶ πτόλιος μαχεούμενοι ἠδὲ γυναικῶν;

As rights to me? When, having quite achiev'd

εἰπέ μοι εἰρομένῳ· ξεῖνος δέ τοι εὔχομαι εἶναι.

An end with safety, and with conquest, too,

ἦ οὐ μέμνῃ ὅτε κεῖσε κατήλυθον ὑμέτερον δῶ,

Of so unmatch'd a war, what none could do

ὀτρυνέων Ὀδυσῆα σὺν ἀντιθέῳ Μενελάῳ

Of all our enemies there, at home a friend

Ἴλιον εἰς ἅμʼ ἕπεσθαι ἐϋσσέλμων ἐπὶ νηῶν;

And wife have giv'n me inglorious end?"

μηνὶ δʼ ἄρʼ οὔλῳ πάντα περήσαμεν εὐρέα πόντον,

While these thus spake, the Argus-killing spy

σπουδῇ παρπεπιθόντες Ὀδυσσῆα πτολίπορθον.

Brought-near Ulysses' noble victory

τὸν δʼ αὖτε ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀμφιμέδοντος·

To their renew'd discourse, in all the ends

Ἀτρεΐδη κύδιστε, ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγάμεμνον,

The Wooers' suffer'd, and show'd those his friends;

μέμνημαι τάδε πάντα, διοτρεφές, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·

Whom now amaze invaded with the view

σοὶ δʼ ἐγὼ εὖ μάλα πάντα καὶ ἀτρεκέως καταλέξω,

And made give back; yet Agamemnon knew

ἡμετέρου θανάτοιο κακὸν τέλος, οἷον ἐτύχθη.

Melanthius' heir, much-fam'd Amphimedon,

μνώμεθʼ Ὀδυσσῆος δὴν οἰχομένοιο δάμαρτα·

Who had in Ithaca guest-favours shown

ἡ δʼ οὔτʼ ἠρνεῖτο στυγερὸν γάμον οὔτʼ ἐτελεύτα,

To great Atrides; who first spake, and said:

ἡμῖν φραζομένη θάνατον καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν,

"Amphimedon! What suff'rance hath been laid

ἀλλὰ δόλον τόνδʼ ἄλλον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μερμήριξε·

On your alive parts that hath made you make

στησαμένη μέγαν ἱστὸν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ὕφαινε,

This land of darkness the retreat you take,

λεπτὸν καὶ περίμετρον· ἄφαρ δʼ ἡμῖν μετέειπε·

So all together, all being like in years,

κοῦροι ἐμοὶ μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ θάνε δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,

Nor would a man have choos'd, of all the peers

μίμνετʼ ἐπειγόμενοι τὸν ἐμὸν γάμον, εἰς ὅ κε φᾶρος

A city honours, men to make a part

ἐκτελέσω, μή μοι μεταμώνια νήματʼ ὄληται,

More strong for any object? Hath your smart

Λαέρτῃ ἥρωϊ ταφήϊον, εἰς ὅτε κέν μιν

Been felt from Neptune, being at sea—his wrath

μοῖρʼ ὀλοὴ καθέλῃσι τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο,

The winds and waves exciting to your scathe?

μή τίς μοι κατὰ δῆμον Ἀχαιϊάδων νεμεσήσῃ,

Or have offensive men impos'd this fate—

αἴ κεν ἄτερ σπείρου κεῖται πολλὰ κτεατίσσας.

Your oxen driving, or your flock's estate?

Or for your city fighting and your wives,

Have deaths untimely seiz'd your best-tim'd lives?

Inform me truly. I was once your guest,

When I and Menelaus had profest

First arms for Ilion, and were come ashore

On Ithaca, with purpose to implore

Ulysses' aid, that city-racing man,

In wreak of the adult'rous Phrygian.

Retain not you the time? A whole month's date

We spent at sea, in hope to instigate

In our arrival old Laertes' son,

Whom, hardly yet, to our design we won."

The soul made answer: "Worthiest king of men,

I well remember ev'ry passage then

You now reduce to thought, and will relate

The truth in whole form of our timeless fate:

"We woo'd the wife of that long-absent king,

Who (though her second marriage were a thing

Of most hate to her) she would yet deny

At no part our affections, nor comply

With any in performance, but decreed,

In her delays, the cruel Fates we feed.

ὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡμῖν δʼ αὖτʼ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.

Her craft was this: She undertook to weave

ἔνθα καὶ ἠματίη μὲν ὑφαίνεσκεν μέγαν ἱστόν,

A funeral garment destin'd to receive

νύκτας δʼ ἀλλύεσκεν, ἐπεὶ δαΐδας παραθεῖτο.

The corse of old Laertes; being a task

ὣς τρίετες μὲν ἔληθε δόλῳ καὶ ἔπειθεν Ἀχαιούς·

Of infinite labour, and which time would ask.

ἀλλʼ ὅτε τέτρατον ἦλθεν ἔτος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,

In midst of whose attempt she caus'd our stay

μηνῶν φθινόντων, περὶ δʼ ἤματα πόλλʼ ἐτελέσθη,

With this attraction: 'Youths, that come in way

καὶ τότε δή τις ἔειπε γυναικῶν, ἣ σάφα ᾔδη,

Of honour'd nuptials to me, though my lord

καὶ τήν γʼ ἀλλύουσαν ἐφεύρομεν ἀγλαὸν ἱστόν.

Abide amongst the dead, yet cease to board

ὣς τὸ μὲν ἐξετέλεσσε καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλουσʼ, ὑπʼ ἀνάγκης.

My choice for present nuptials, and sustain,

εὖθʼ ἡ φᾶρος ἔδειξεν, ὑφήνασα μέγαν ἱστόν,

Lest what is past me of this web be vain,

πλύνασʼ, ἠελίῳ ἐναλίγκιον ἠὲ σελήνῃ,

Till all receive perfection. 'Tis a weed

καὶ τότε δή ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆα κακός ποθεν ἤγαγε δαίμων

Dispos'd to wrap in at his funeral need

ἀγροῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιήν, ὅθι δώματα ναῖε συβώτης.

The old Laertes; who, possessing much,

ἔνθʼ ἦλθεν φίλος υἱὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,

Would, in his want of rites as fitting, touch

ἐκ Πύλου ἠμαθόεντος ἰὼν σὺν νηῒ μελαίνῃ·

My honour highly with each vulgar dame.'

τὼ δὲ μνηστῆρσιν θάνατον κακὸν ἀρτύναντε

Thus spake she, and persuaded; and her frame

ἵκοντο προτὶ ἄστυ περικλυτόν, ἦ τοι Ὀδυσσεὺς

All-day she labour'd, her day's work not small,

ὕστερος, αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος πρόσθʼ ἡγεμόνευε.

But ev'ry night-time she unwrought it all.

τὸν δὲ συβώτης ἦγε κακὰ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα,

Three years continuing this imperfect task;

πτωχῷ λευγαλέῳ ἐναλίγκιον ἠδὲ γέροντι

But when the fourth year came her sleights could mask

σκηπτόμενον· τὰ δὲ λυγρὰ περὶ χροῒ εἵματα ἕστο·

In no more covert, since her trusted maid

οὐδέ τις ἡμείων δύνατο γνῶναι τὸν ἐόντα

Her whole deceit to our true note betray'd.

ἐξαπίνης προφανέντʼ, οὐδʼ οἳ προγενέστεροι ἦσαν,

With which surpriz'd, she could no more protract

ἀλλʼ ἔπεσίν τε κακοῖσιν ἐνίσσομεν ἠδὲ βολῇσιν.

Her work's perfection, but gave end exact

αὐτὰρ ὁ τῆος ἐτόλμα ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἑοῖσι

To what remain'd, wash'd-up, and set thereon

βαλλόμενος καὶ ἐνισσόμενος τετληότι θυμῷ·

A gloss so bright that like the sun and moon

ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή μιν ἔγειρε Διὸς νοός αἰγιόχοιο,

The whole work show'd together. And when now

σὺν μὲν Τηλεμάχῳ περικαλλέα τεύχεʼ ἀείρας

Of mere necessity her honour'd vow

ἐς θάλαμον κατέθηκε καὶ ἐκλήϊσεν ὀχῆας,

She must make good to us, ill-fortune brought

αὐτὰρ ὁ ἣν ἄλοχον πολυκερδείῃσιν ἄνωγε

Ulysses home, who yet gave none one thought

τόξον μνηστήρεσσι θέμεν πολιόν τε σίδηρον,

Of his arrival, but far-off at field

ἡμῖν αἰνομόροισιν ἀέθλια καὶ φόνου ἀρχήν.

Liv'd with his herdsman, nor his trust would yield

οὐδέ τις ἡμείων δύνατο κρατεροῖο βιοῖο

Note of his person, but liv'd there as guest,

νευρὴν ἐντανύσαι, πολλὸν δʼ ἐπιδευέες ἦμεν.

Ragg'd as a beggar in that life profest.

ἀλλʼ ὅτε χεῖρας ἵκανεν Ὀδυσσῆος μέγα τόξον,

At length Telemachus left Pylos' sand,

ἔνθʼ ἡμεῖς μὲν πάντες ὁμοκλέομεν ἐπέεσσι

And with a ship fetch'd soon his native land,

τόξον μὴ δόμεναι, μηδʼ εἰ μάλα πολλʼ ἀγορεύοι·

When yet not home he went, but laid his way

Τηλέμαχος δέ μιν οἶος ἐποτρύνων ἐκέλευσεν.

Up to his herdsman where his father lay;

αὐτὰρ ὁ δέξατο χειρὶ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,

And where both laid our deaths. To town then bore

ῥηϊδίως δʼ ἐτάνυσσε βιόν, διὰ δʼ ἧκε σιδήρου,

The swine-herd and his King, the swain before,

στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδὸν ἰών, ταχέας δʼ ἐκχεύατʼ ὀϊστοὺς

Telemachus in other ways bestow'd

δεινὸν παπταίνων, βάλε δʼ Ἀντίνοον βασιλῆα.

His course home first, t' associate us that woo'd.

αὐτὰρ ἔπειτʼ ἄλλοις ἐφίει βέλεα στονόεντα,

The swain the King led after, who came on

ἄντα τιτυσκόμενος· τοὶ δʼ ἀγχιστῖνοι ἔπιπτον.

Raggéd and wretched, and still lean'd upon

γνωτὸν δʼ ἦν ὅ ῥά τίς σφι θεῶν ἐπιτάρροθος ἦεν·

A borrow'd staff. At length he reach'd his home,

αὐτίκα γὰρ κατὰ δώματʼ ἐπισπόμενοι μένεϊ σφῷ

Where (on the sudden and so wretched come)

κτεῖνον ἐπιστροφάδην, τῶν δὲ στόνος ὤρνυτʼ ἀεικὴς

Nor we nor much our elders once did dream

κράτων τυπτομένων, δάπεδον δʼ ἅπαν αἵματι θῦεν.

Of his return there, but did wrongs extreme

ὣς ἡμεῖς, Ἀγάμεμνον, ἀπωλόμεθʼ, ὧν ἔτι καὶ νῦν

Of words and blows to him; all which he bore

σώματʼ ἀκηδέα κεῖται ἐνὶ μεγάροις Ὀδυσῆος·

With that old patience he had learn'd before.

οὐ γάρ πω ἴσασι φίλοι κατὰ δώμαθʼ ἑκάστου,

But when the mind of Jove had rais'd his own,

οἵ κʼ ἀπονίψαντες μέλανα βρότον ἐξ ὠτειλέων

His son and he fetch'd all their armour down,

κατθέμενοι γοάοιεν· ὃ γὰρ γέρας ἐστὶ θανόντων.

Fast-lock'd the doors, and, to prepare their use,

τὸν δʼ αὖτε ψυχὴ προσεφώνεεν Ἀτρεΐδαο·

He will'd his wife, for first mean, to produce

ὄλβιε Λαέρταο πάϊ, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,

His bow to us to draw; of which no one

ἦ ἄρα σὺν μεγάλῃ ἀρετῇ ἐκτήσω ἄκοιτιν.

Could stir the string; himself yet set upon

ὡς ἀγαθαὶ φρένες ἦσαν ἀμύμονι Πηνελοπείῃ,

The deadly strength it held, drew all with ease,

κούρῃ Ἰκαρίου· ὡς εὖ μέμνητʼ Ὀδυσῆος,

Shot through the steels, and then began to seize

ἀνδρὸς κουριδίου· τῷ οἱ κλέος οὔ ποτʼ ὀλεῖται

Our armless bosoms; striking first the breast

ἧς ἀρετῆς, τεύξουσι δʼ ἐπιχθονίοισιν ἀοιδὴν

Of king Antinous, and then the rest

ἀθάνατοι χαρίεσσαν ἐχέφρονι Πηνελοπείῃ,

In heaps turn'd over; hopeful of his end

οὐχ ὡς Τυνδαρέου κούρη κακὰ μήσατο ἔργα,

Because some God, he knew, stood firm his friend.

κουρίδιον κτείνασα πόσιν, στυγερὴ δέ τʼ ἀοιδὴ

Nor prov'd it worse with him, but all in flood

ἔσσετʼ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους, χαλεπὴν δέ τε φῆμιν ὀπάσσει

The pavement straight blush'd with our vital blood.

θηλυτέρῃσι γυναιξί, καὶ ἥ κʼ εὐεργὸς ἔῃσιν.

And thus our souls came here; our bodies laid

ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,

Neglected in his roofs, no word convey'd

ἑσταότʼ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοις, ὑπὸ κεύθεσι γαίης·

To any friend to take us home and give

οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ ἐκ πόλιος κατέβαν, τάχα δʼ ἀγρὸν ἵκοντο

Our wounds fit balming, nor let such as live

Entomb our deaths, and for our fortunes shed

Those tears and dead-rites that renown the dead."

Atrides' ghost gave answer: "O bless'd son

Of old Laertes, thou at length hast won

With mighty virtue thy unmatchéd wife.

How good a knowledge, how untouch'd a life,

Hath wise Penelope! How well she laid

Her husband's rights up, whom she lov'd a maid!

For which her virtues shall extend applause,

Beyond the circles frail mortality draws;

The deathless in this vale of death comprising

Her praise in numbers into infinites rising.

The daughter Tyndarus begat begot

No such chaste thoughts, but cut the virgin knot

That knit her spouse and her with murd'rous swords.

For which posterities shall put hateful words

To notes of her that all her sex defam'd,

And for her ill shall ev'n the good be blam'd."

To this effect these these digressions made

In hell, earth's dark and ever-hiding shade.

Ulysses and his son, now past the town,

Soon reach'd the field elaborately grown

καλὸν Λαέρταο τετυγμένον, ὅν ῥά ποτʼ αὐτὸς

By old Laertes' labour, when, with cares

Λαέρτης κτεάτισσεν, ἐπεὶ μάλα πόλλʼ ἐμόγησεν.

For his lost son, he left all court affairs,

ἔνθα οἱ οἶκος ἔην, περὶ δὲ κλίσιον θέε πάντη,

And took to this rude upland; which with toil

ἐν τῷ σιτέσκοντο καὶ ἵζανον ἠδὲ ἴαυον

He made a sweet and habitable soil;

δμῶες ἀναγκαῖοι, τοί οἱ φίλα ἐργάζοντο.

Where stood a house to him; about which ran,

ἐν δὲ γυνὴ Σικελὴ γρηῢς πέλεν, ἥ ῥα γέροντα

In turnings thick and labyrinthian,

ἐνδυκέως κομέεσκεν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ, νόσφι πόληος.

Poor hovels, where his necessary men

ἔνθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς δμώεσσι καὶ υἱέϊ μῦθον ἔειπεν·

That did those works (of pleasure to him then)

ὑμεῖς μὲν νῦν ἔλθετʼ ἐϋκτίμενον δόμον εἴσω,

Might sit, and eat, and sleep. In his own house

δεῖπνον δʼ αἶψα συῶν ἱερεύσατε ὅς τις ἄριστος·

An old Sicilian dame liv'd, studious

αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ πατρὸς πειρήσομαι ἡμετέροιο,

To serve his sour age with her cheerful pains.

αἴ κέ μʼ ἐπιγνώῃ καὶ φράσσεται ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,

Then said Ulysses to his son and swains:

ἦέ κεν ἀγνοιῇσι, πολὺν χρόνον ἀμφὶς ἐόντα.

"Go you to town, and for your dinner kill

ὣς εἰπὼν δμώεσσιν ἀρήϊα τεύχεʼ ἔδωκεν.

The best swine ye can choose; myself will still

οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα δόμονδε θοῶς κίον, αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς

Stay with my father, and assay his eye

ἆσσον ἴεν πολυκάρπου ἀλωῆς πειρητίζων.

If my acknowledg'd truth it can descry,

οὐδʼ εὗρεν Δολίον, μέγαν ὄρχατον ἐσκαταβαίνων,

Or that my long time's travel doth so change

οὐδέ τινα δμώων οὐδʼ υἱῶν· ἀλλʼ ἄρα τοί γε

My sight to him that I appear as strange."

αἱμασιὰς λέξοντες ἀλωῆς ἔμμεναι ἕρκος

Thus gave he arms to them, and home they hied.

ᾤχοντʼ, αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσι γέρων ὁδὸν ἡγεμόνευε.

Ulysses to the fruitful field applied

τὸν δʼ οἶον πατέρʼ εὗρεν ἐϋκτιμένῃ ἐν ἀλωῇ,

His present place; nor found he Dolius there,

λιστρεύοντα φυτόν· ῥυπόωντα δὲ ἕστο χιτῶνα

His sons, or any servant, anywhere

ῥαπτὸν ἀεικέλιον, περὶ δὲ κνήμῃσι βοείας

In all that spacious ground; all gone from thence

κνημῖδας ῥαπτὰς δέδετο, γραπτῦς ἀλεείνων,

Were dragging bushes to repair a fence,

χειρῖδάς τʼ ἐπὶ χερσὶ βάτων ἕνεκʼ· αὐτὰρ ὕπερθεν

Old Dolius leading all. Ulysses found

αἰγείην κυνέην κεφαλῇ ἔχε, πένθος ἀέξων.

His father far above in that fair ground,

τὸν δʼ ὡς οὖν ἐνόησε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς

Employ'd in proining of a plant; his weeds

γήραϊ τειρόμενον, μέγα δὲ φρεσὶ πένθος ἔχοντα,

All torn and tatter'd, fit for homely deeds,

στὰς ἄρʼ ὑπὸ βλωθρὴν ὄγχνην κατὰ δάκρυον εἶβε.

But not for him. Upon his legs he wore

μερμήριξε δʼ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμὸν

Patch'd boots to guard him from the bramble's gore;

κύσσαι καὶ περιφῦναι ἑὸν πατέρʼ, ἠδὲ ἕκαστα

His hands had thorn-proof hedging mittens on;

εἰπεῖν, ὡς ἔλθοι καὶ ἵκοιτʼ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,

His head a goat-skin casque; through all which shone

ἦ πρῶτʼ ἐξερέοιτο ἕκαστά τε πειρήσαιτο.

His heart giv'n over to abjectest moan.

ὧδε δέ οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,

Him when Ulysses saw consum'd with age,

πρῶτον κερτομίοις ἐπέεσσιν πειρηθῆναι.

And all the ensigns on him that the rage

τὰ φρονέων ἰθὺς κίεν αὐτοῦ δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.

Of grief presented, he brake out in tears;

ἦ τοι ὁ μὲν κατέχων κεφαλὴν φυτὸν ἀμφελάχαινε·

And, taking stand then where a tree of pears

τὸν δὲ παριστάμενος προσεφώνεε φαίδιμος υἱός·

Shot high his forehead over him, his mind

ὦ γέρον, οὐκ ἀδαημονίη σʼ ἔχει ἀμφιπολεύειν

Had much contention, if to yield to kind,

ὄρχατον, ἀλλʼ εὖ τοι κομιδὴ ἔχει, οὐδέ τι πάμπαν,

Make straight way to his father, kiss, embrace,

οὐ φυτόν, οὐ συκέη, οὐκ ἄμπελος, οὐ μὲν ἐλαίη,

Tell his return, and put on all the face

οὐκ ὄγχνη, οὐ πρασιή τοι ἄνευ κομιδῆς κατὰ κῆπον.

And fashion of his instant-told return;

ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ μὴ χόλον ἔνθεο θυμῷ

Or stay th' impulsion, and the long day burn

αὐτόν σʼ οὐκ ἀγαθὴ κομιδὴ ἔχει, ἀλλʼ ἅμα γῆρας

Of his quite loss giv'n in his father's fear

λυγρὸν ἔχεις αὐχμεῖς τε κακῶς καὶ ἀεικέα ἕσσαι.

A little longer, trying first his cheer

οὐ μὲν ἀεργίης γε ἄναξ ἕνεκʼ οὔ σε κομίζει,

With some free dalliance, th' earnest being so near.

οὐδέ τί τοι δούλειον ἐπιπρέπει εἰσοράασθαι

This course his choice preferr'd, and forth he went.

εἶδος καὶ μέγεθος· βασιλῆϊ γὰρ ἀνδρὶ ἔοικας.

His father then his aged shoulders bent

τοιούτῳ δὲ ἔοικας, ἐπεὶ λούσαιτο φάγοι τε,

Beneath what years had stoop'd, about a tree

εὑδέμεναι μαλακῶς· ἡ γὰρ δίκη ἐστὶ γερόντων.

Busily digging: "O, old man," said he,

ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,

"You want no skill to dress and deck your ground,

τεῦ δμὼς εἶς ἀνδρῶν; τεῦ δʼ ὄρχατον ἀμφιπολεύεις;

For all your plants doth order'd distance bound.

καὶ μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ,

No apple, pear, or olive, fig; or vine,

εἰ ἐτεόν γʼ Ἰθάκην τήνδʼ ἱκόμεθʼ, ὥς μοι ἔειπεν

Nor any plat or quarter you confine

οὗτος ἀνὴρ νῦν δὴ ξυμβλήμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἰόντι,

To grass or flow'rs stands empty of your care,

οὔ τι μάλʼ ἀρτίφρων, ἐπεὶ οὐ τόλμησεν ἕκαστα

Which shows exact in each peculiar;

εἰπεῖν ἠδʼ ἐπακοῦσαι ἐμὸν ἔπος, ὡς ἐρέεινον

And yet (which let not move you) you bestow

ἀμφὶ ξείνῳ ἐμῷ, ἤ που ζώει τε καὶ ἔστιν

No care upon yourself, though to this show

ἦ ἤδη τέθνηκε καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισιν.

Of outward irksomeness to what you are

ἐκ γάρ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δὲ σύνθεο καί μευ ἄκουσον·

You labour with an inward froward care,

ἄνδρα ποτʼ ἐξείνισσα φίλῃ ἐνὶ πατρίδι γαίῃ

Which is your age, that should wear all without

ἡμέτερόνδʼ ἐλθόντα, καὶ οὔ πω τις βροτὸς ἄλλος

More neat and cherishing. I make no doubt

ξείνων τηλεδαπῶν φιλίων ἐμὸν ἵκετο δῶμα·

That any sloth you use procures your lord

εὔχετο δʼ ἐξ Ἰθάκης γένος ἔμμεναι, αὐτὰρ ἔφασκε

To let an old man go so much abhorr'd

Λαέρτην Ἀρκεισιάδην πατέρʼ ἔμμεναι αὐτῷ.

In all his weeds; nor shines there in your look

τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ πρὸς δώματʼ ἄγων ἐῢ ἐξείνισσα,

A fashion and a goodliness so took

ἐνδυκέως φιλέων, πολλῶν κατὰ οἶκον ἐόντων,

With abject qualities to merit this

καί οἱ δῶρα πόρον ξεινήϊα, οἷα ἐῴκει.

Nasty entreaty. Your resemblance is

χρυσοῦ μέν οἱ δῶκʼ εὐεργέος ἑπτὰ τάλαντα,

A very king's, and shines through this retreat.

You look like one that having wash'd and eat

Should sleep securely, lying sweet and neat.

It is the ground of age, when cares abuse it,

To know life's end, and, as 'tis sweet, so use it.

"But utter truth, and tell what lord is he

That rates your labour and your liberty?

Whose orchard is it that you husband thus?

Or quit me this doubt, for if Ithacus

This kingdom claims for his, the man I found

At first arrival here is hardly sound

Of brain or civil, not enduring stay

To tell nor hear me my inquiry out

Of that my friend, if still he bore about

His life and being, or were div'd to death,

And in the house of him that harboureth

The souls of men. For once he liv'd my guest;

My land and house retaining interest

In his abode there; where there sojourn'd none

As guest from any foreign region

Of more price with me. He deriv'd his race

From Ithaca, and said his father was

Laertes, surnam'd Arcesiades,

δῶκα δέ οἱ κρητῆρα πανάργυρον ἀνθεμόεντα,

I had him home, and all the offices

δώδεκα δʼ ἁπλοΐδας χλαίνας, τόσσους δὲ τάπητας,

Perform'd to him that fitted any friend,

τόσσα δὲ φάρεα καλά, τόσους δʼ ἐπὶ τοῖσι χιτῶνας,

Whose proof I did to wealthy gifts extend:

χωρὶς δʼ αὖτε γυναῖκας, ἀμύμονα ἔργα ἰδυίας,

Seven talents gold; a bowl all-silver, set

τέσσαρας εἰδαλίμας, ἃς ἤθελεν αὐτὸς ἑλέσθαι.

With pots of flowers; twelve robes that had no pleat!

τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα πατὴρ κατὰ δάκρυον εἴβων·

Twelve cloaks, or mantles, of delicious dye;

ξεῖνʼ, ἦ τοι μὲν γαῖαν ἱκάνεις, ἣν ἐρεείνεις,

Twelve inner weeds; twelve suits of tapestry.

ὑβρισταὶ δʼ αὐτὴν καὶ ἀτάσθαλοι ἄνδρες ἔχουσιν·

I gave him likewise women skill'd in use

δῶρα δʼ ἐτώσια ταῦτα χαρίζεο, μυρίʼ ὀπάζων·

Of loom and needle, freeing him to choose

εἰ γάρ μιν ζωόν γʼ ἐκίχεις Ἰθάκης ἐνὶ δήμῳ,

Four the most fair." His father, weeping, said:

τῷ κέν σʼ εὖ δώροισιν ἀμειψάμενος ἀπέπεμψε

"Stranger! The earth to which you are convey'd

καὶ ξενίῃ ἀγαθῇ ἡ γὰρ θέμις, ὅς τις ὑπάρξῃ.

Is Ithaca; by such rude men possess'd,

ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,

Unjust and insolent, as first address'd

πόστον δὴ ἔτος ἐστίν, ὅτε ξείνισσας ἐκεῖνον

To your encounter; but the gifts you gave

σὸν ξεῖνον δύστηνον, ἐμὸν παῖδʼ, εἴ ποτʼ ἔην γε,

Were giv'n, alas! to the ungrateful grave.

δύσμορον; ὅν που τῆλε φίλων καὶ πατρίδος αἴης

If with his people, where you now arrive,

ἠέ που ἐν πόντῳ φάγον ἰχθύες, ἢ ἐπὶ χέρσου

Your fate had been to find your friend alive,

θηρσὶ καὶ οἰωνοῖσιν ἕλωρ γένετʼ· οὐδέ ἑ μήτηρ

You should have found like guest-rites from his hand,

κλαῦσε περιστείλασα πατήρ θʼ, οἵ μιν τεκόμεσθα·

Like gifts, and kind pass to your wishéd land.

οὐδʼ ἄλοχος πολύδωρος, ἐχέφρων Πηνελόπεια,

But how long since receiv'd you for your guest

κώκυσʼ ἐν λεχέεσσιν ἑὸν πόσιν, ὡς ἐπεῴκει,

Your friend, my son, who was th' unhappiest

ὀφθαλμοὺς καθελοῦσα· τὸ γὰρ γέρας ἐστὶ θανόντων.

Of all men breathing, if he were at all?

καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ·

O born when Fates and ill-aspects let fall

τίς πόθεν εἶς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;

A cruel influence for him! Far away

ποῦ δὲ νηῦς ἕστηκε θοή, ἥ σʼ ἤγαγε δεῦρο

From friends and country destin'd to allay.

ἀντιθέους θʼ ἑτάρους; ἦ ἔμπορος εἰλήλουθας

The sea-bred appetites, or, left ashore,

νηὸς ἐπʼ ἀλλοτρίης, οἱ δʼ ἐκβήσαντες ἔβησαν;

To be by fowls and upland monsters tore,

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·

His life's kind authors nor his wealthy wife

τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι πάντα μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως καταλέξω.

Bemoaning, as behov'd, his parted life,

εἰμὶ μὲν ἐξ Ἀλύβαντος, ὅθι κλυτὰ δώματα ναίω,

Nor closing, as in honour's course it lies

υἱὸς Ἀφείδαντος Πολυπημονίδαο ἄνακτος·

To all men dead, in bed his dying eyes.

αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γʼ ὄνομʼ ἐστὶν Ἐπήριτος· ἀλλά με δαίμων

But give me knowledge of your name and race.

πλάγξʼ ἀπὸ Σικανίης δεῦρʼ ἐλθέμεν οὐκ ἐθέλοντα·

What city bred you? Where the anchoring-place

νηῦς δέ μοι ἥδʼ ἕστηκεν ἐπʼ ἀγροῦ νόσφι πόληος.

Your ship now rides-at lies that shor'd you here

αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆϊ τόδε δὴ πέμπτον ἔτος ἐστίν,

And where your men? Or, if a passenger

ἐξ οὗ κεῖθεν ἔβη καὶ ἐμῆς ἀπελήλυθε πάτρης,

In other keels you came, who (giving land

δύσμορος· ἦ τέ οἱ ἐσθλοὶ ἔσαν ὄρνιθες ἰόντι,

To your adventures here, some other strand

δεξιοί, οἷς χαίρων μὲν ἐγὼν ἀπέπεμπον ἐκεῖνον,

To fetch in further course) have left to us

χαῖρε δὲ κεῖνος ἰών· θυμὸς δʼ ἔτι νῶϊν ἐώλπει

Your welcome presence?" His reply was thus:

μίξεσθαι ξενίῃ ἠδʼ ἀγλαὰ δῶρα διδώσειν.

"I am of Alybandé, where I hold

ὣς φάτο, τὸν δʼ ἄχεος νεφέλη ἐκάλυψε μέλαινα·

My name's chief house, to much renown extoll'd.

ἀμφοτέρῃσι δὲ χερσὶν ἑλὼν κόνιν αἰθαλόεσσαν

My father Aphidantes, fam'd to spring

χεύατο κὰκ κεφαλῆς πολιῆς, ἁδινὰ στεναχίζων.

From Polypemon, the Molossian king.

τοῦ δʼ ὠρίνετο θυμός, ἀνὰ ῥῖνας δέ οἱ ἤδη

My name Eperitus. My taking land

δριμὺ μένος προὔτυψε φίλον πατέρʼ εἰσορόωντι.

On this fair Isle was rul'd by the command

κύσσε δέ μιν περιφὺς ἐπιάλμενος, ἠδὲ προσηύδα·

Of God or fortune, quite against consent

κεῖνος μέν τοι ὅδʼ αὐτὸς ἐγώ, πάτερ, ὃν σὺ μεταλλᾷς,

Of my free purpose, that in course was bent

ἤλυθον εἰκοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.

For th' isle Sicania. My ship is held

ἀλλʼ ἴσχεο κλαυθμοῖο γόοιό τε δακρυόεντος.

Far from the city, near an ample field.

ἐκ γάρ τοι ἐρέω· μάλα δὲ χρὴ σπευδέμεν ἔμπης·

And for Ulysses, since his pass from me

μνηστῆρας κατέπεφνον ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισι,

'Tis now five years. Unbless'd by destiny,

λώβην τινύμενος θυμαλγέα καὶ κακὰ ἔργα.

That all this time hath had the fate to err!

τὸν δʼ αὖ Λαέρτης ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·

Though, at his parting, good birds did augur

εἰ μὲν δὴ Ὀδυσεύς γε ἐμὸς πάϊς ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνεις,

His putting-off, and on his right hand flew,

σῆμά τί μοι νῦν εἰπὲ ἀριφραδές, ὄφρα πεποίθω.

Which to his passage my affection drew,

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·

His spirit joyful; and my hope was now

οὐλὴν μὲν πρῶτον τήνδε φράσαι ὀφθαλμοῖσι,

To guest with him, and see his hand bestow

τὴν ἐν Παρνησῷ μʼ ἔλασεν σῦς λευκῷ ὀδόντι

Rites of our friendship." This a cloud of grief

οἰχόμενον· σὺ δέ με προΐεις καὶ πότνια μήτηρ

Cast over all the forces of his life.

ἐς πατέρʼ Αὐτόλυκον μητρὸς φίλον, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἑλοίμην

With both his hands the burning dust he swept

δῶρα, τὰ δεῦρο μολών μοι ὑπέσχετο καὶ κατένευσεν.

Up from the earth, which on his head he heapt,

εἰ δʼ ἄγε τοι καὶ δένδρεʼ ἐϋκτιμένην κατʼ ἀλωὴν

And fetch'd a sigh as in it life were broke.

εἴπω, ἅ μοί ποτʼ ἔδωκας, ἐγὼ δʼ ᾔτεόν σε ἕκαστα

Which grieved his son, and gave so smart a stroke

παιδνὸς ἐών, κατὰ κῆπον ἐπισπόμενος· διὰ δʼ αὐτῶν

Upon his nostrils with the inward stripe,

ἱκνεύμεσθα, σὺ δʼ ὠνόμασας καὶ ἔειπες ἕκαστα.

That up the vein rose there; and weeping ripe

ὄγχνας μοι δῶκας τρισκαίδεκα καὶ δέκα μηλέας,

He was to see his sire feel such woe

συκέας τεσσαράκοντʼ· ὄρχους δέ μοι ὧδʼ ὀνόμηνας

For his dissembled joy; which now let go,

δώσειν πεντήκοντα, διατρύγιος δὲ ἕκαστος

He sprung from earth, embrac'd and kiss'd his sire,

And said: "O father! He of whom y' enquire

Am I myself, that, from you twenty years,

Is now return'd. But do not break in tears,

For now we must not forms of kind maintain,

But haste and guard the substance. I have slain

All my wife's Wooers, so revenging now

Their wrong so long time suffer'd. Take not you

The comfort of my coming then to heart

At this glad instant, but, in prov'd desert

Of your grave judgment, give moan glad suspense,

And on the sudden put this consequence

In act as absolute, as all time went

To ripening of your resolute assent."

All this haste made not his staid faith so free

To trust his words; who said: "If you are he,

Approve it by some sign." "This scar then see,"

Replied Ulysses, "giv'n me by the boar

Slain in Parnassus, I being sent before

By your's and by my honour'd mother's will,

To see your sire Autolycus fulfill

The gifts he vow'd at giving of my name.

I'll tell you, too, the trees, in goodly frame

ἤην· ἔνθα δʼ ἀνὰ σταφυλαὶ παντοῖαι ἔασιν—

Of this fair orchard, that I ask'd of you

ὁππότε δὴ Διὸς ὧραι ἐπιβρίσειαν ὕπερθεν.

Being yet a child, and follow'd for your show

ὣς φάτο, τοῦ δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,

And name of ev'ry tree. You gave me then

σήματʼ ἀναγνόντος τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.

Of fig-trees forty, apple-bearers ten,

ἀμφὶ δὲ παιδὶ φίλῳ βάλε πήχεε· τὸν δὲ ποτὶ οἷ

Pear-trees thirteen, and fifty ranks of vine;

εἷλεν ἀποψύχοντα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.

Each one of which a season did confine

αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἄμπνυτο καὶ ἐς φρένα θυμὸς ἀγέρθη,

For his best eating. Not a grape did grow

ἐξαῦτις μύθοισιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπε·

That grew not there, and had his heavy brow

Ζεῦ πάτερ, ἦ ῥα ἔτʼ ἔστε θεοὶ κατὰ μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον,

When Jove's fair daughters, the all ripening Hours,

εἰ ἐτεὸν μνηστῆρες ἀτάσθαλον ὕβριν ἔτισαν.

Gave timely date to it." This charg'd the pow'rs

νῦν δʼ αἰνῶς δείδοικα κατὰ φρένα μὴ τάχα πάντες

Both of his knees and heart with such impression

ἐνθάδʼ ἐπέλθωσιν Ἰθακήσιοι, ἀγγελίας δὲ

Of sudden comfort, that it gave possession

πάντη ἐποτρύνωσι Κεφαλλήνων πολίεσσι.

Of all to Trance, the signs were all so true,

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·

And did the love that gave them so renew.

θάρσει, μή τοι ταῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι μελόντων.

He cast his arms about his son and sunk,

ἀλλʼ ἴομεν προτὶ οἶκον, ὃς ὀρχάτου ἐγγύθι κεῖται·

The circle slipping to his feet; so shrunk

ἔνθα δὲ Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην

Were all his age's forces with the fire

προὔπεμψʼ, ὡς ἂν δεῖπνον ἐφοπλίσσωσι τάχιστα.

Of his young love rekindled. The old sire

ὣς ἄρα φωνήσαντε βάτην πρὸς δώματα καλά.

The son took up quite lifeless. But his breath

οἱ δʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἵκοντο δόμους εὖ ναιετάοντας,

Again respiring, and his soul from death

εὗρον Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην

His body's pow'r recov'ring, out he cried,

ταμνομένους κρέα πολλὰ κερῶντάς τʼ αἴθοπα οἶνον.

And said: "O Jupiter! I now have tried

τόφρα δὲ Λαέρτην μεγαλήτορα ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ

That still there live in heav'n rememb'ring Gods

ἀμφίπολος Σικελὴ λοῦσεν καὶ χρῖσεν ἐλαίῳ,

Of men that serve them; though the periods

ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα χλαῖναν καλὴν βάλεν· αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη

They set on their appearances are long

ἄγχι παρισταμένη μέλεʼ ἤλδανε ποιμένι λαῶν,

In best men's suff'rings, yet as sure as strong

μείζονα δʼ ἠὲ πάρος καὶ πάσσονα θῆκεν ἰδέσθαι.

They are in comforts, be their strange delays

ἐκ δʼ ἀσαμίνθου βῆ· θαύμαζε δέ μιν φίλος υἱός,

Extended never so from days to days.

ὡς ἴδεν ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιον ἄντην·

Yet see the short joys or the soon-mix'd fears

καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

Of helps withheld by them so many years!

ὦ πάτερ, ἦ μάλα τίς σε θεῶν αἰειγενετάων

For if the Wooers now have paid the pain

εἶδός τε μέγεθός τε ἀμείνονα θῆκεν ἰδέσθαι.

Due to their impious pleasures, now again

τὸν δʼ αὖ Λαέρτης πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·

Extreme fear takes me, lest we straight shall see

αἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,

The Ithacensians here in mutiny,

οἷος Νήρικον εἷλον, ἐϋκτίμενον πτολίεθρον,

Their messengers dispatch'd to win to friend

ἀκτὴν ἠπείροιο, Κεφαλλήνεσσιν ἀνάσσων,

The Cephallenian cities." "Do not spend

τοῖος ἐών τοι χθιζὸς ἐν ἡμετέροισι δόμοισιν,

Your thoughts on these cares," said his suff'ring son,

τεύχεʼ ἔχων ὤμοισιν, ἐφεστάμεναι καὶ ἀμύνειν

"But be of comfort, and see that course run

ἄνδρας μνηστῆρας· τῷ κε σφέων γούνατʼ ἔλυσα

That best may shun the worst. Our house is near,

πολλῶν ἐν μεγάροισι, σὺ δὲ φρένας ἔνδον ἐγήθεις.

Telemachus and both his herdsmen there

ὣς οἷ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον.

To dress our supper with their utmost haste;

οἱ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν παύσαντο πόνου τετύκοντό τε δαῖτα,

And thither haste we." This said, forth they past,

ἑξείης ἕζοντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε·

Came home, and found Telemachus at feast

ἔνθʼ οἱ μὲν δείπνῳ ἐπεχείρεον, ἀγχίμολον δὲ

With both his swains; while who had done, all drest

ἦλθʼ ὁ γέρων Δολίος, σὺν δʼ υἱεῖς τοῖο γέροντος,

With baths and balms and royally array'd

ἐξ ἔργων μογέοντες, ἐπεὶ προμολοῦσα κάλεσσεν

The old king was by his Sicilian maid.

μήτηρ γρηῦς Σικελή, ἥ σφεας τρέφε καί ῥα γέροντα

By whose side Pallas stood, his crook'd-age straight'ning,

ἐνδυκέως κομέεσκεν, ἐπεὶ κατὰ γῆρας ἔμαρψεν.

His flesh more plumping, and his looks enlight'ning.

οἱ δʼ ὡς οὖν Ὀδυσῆα ἴδον φράσσαντό τε θυμῷ,

Who issuing then to view, his son admir'd

ἔσταν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι τεθηπότες· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς

The Gods' aspects into his form inspir'd,

μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι καθαπτόμενος προσέειπεν·

And said: "O father, certainly some God

ὦ γέρον, ἵζʼ ἐπὶ δεῖπνον, ἀπεκλελάθεσθε δὲ θάμβευς·

By your addression in this state hath stood,

δηρὸν γὰρ σίτῳ ἐπιχειρήσειν μεμαῶτες

More great, more rev'rend, rend'ring you by far

μίμνομεν ἐν μεγάροις, ὑμέας ποτιδέγμενοι αἰεί.

At all your parts than of yourself you are!"

ὣς ἄρ ἔφη, Δολίος δʼ ἰθὺς κίε χεῖρε πετάσσας

"I would to Jove," said he, "the Sun, and She

ἀμφοτέρας, Ὀδυσεῦς δὲ λαβὼν κύσε χεῖρʼ ἐπὶ καρπῷ,

That bears Jove's shield, the state had stood with me

καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

That help'd me take-in the well-builded tow'rs

ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεὶ νόστησας ἐελδομένοισι μάλʼ ἡμῖν

Of strong Nericus (the Cephalian pow'rs

οὐδʼ ἔτʼ ὀϊομένοισι, θεοὶ δέ σʼ ἀνήγαγον αὐτοί,

To that fair city leading) two days past,

οὖλέ τε καὶ μάλα χαῖρε, θεοὶ δέ τοι ὄλβια δοῖεν.

While with the Wooers thy conflict did last,

καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ,

And I had then been in the Wooers' wreak!

ἢ ἤδη σάφα οἶδε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια

I should have help'd thee so to render weak

νοστήσαντά σε δεῦρʼ, ἦ ἄγγελον ὀτρύνωμεν.

Their stubborn knees, that in thy joy's desert

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς

Thy breast had been too little for thy heart."

ὦ γέρον, ἤδη οἶδε· τί σε χρὴ ταῦτα πένεσθαι;

This said, and supper order'd by their men,

ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ αὖτις ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐϋξέστου ἐπὶ δίφρου.

They sat to it; old Dolius ent'ring then,

ὣς δʼ αὔτως παῖδες Δολίου κλυτὸν ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆα

And with him, tried with labour, his sons came,

δεικανόωντʼ ἐπέεσσι καὶ ἐν χείρεσσι φύοντο,

Call'd by their mother, the Sicilian dame

ἑξείης δʼ ἕζοντο παραὶ Δολίον, πατέρα σφόν.

That brought them up and dress'd their father's fare,

As whose age grew, with it increas'd her care

To see him serv'd as fitted. When thus set

These men beheld Ulysses there at meat,

They knew him, and astonish'd in the place

Stood at his presence; who, with words of grace,

Call'd to old Dolius, saying: "Come and eat,

And banish all astonishment. Your meat

Hath long been ready, and ourselves made stay,

Expecting ever when your wishéd way

Would reach amongst us." This brought fiercely on

Old Dolius from his stand; who ran upon,

With both his arms abroad, the King, and kiss'd

Of both his rapt up hands the either wrist,

Thus welcoming his presence: "O my love,

Your presence here, for which all wishes strove,

No one expected. Ev'n the Gods have gone

In guide before you to your mansión.

Welcome, and all joys to your heart contend.

Knows yet Penelope? Or shall we send

Some one to tell her this?" "She knows," said he,

"What need these troubles, father, touch at thee?"

Then came the sons of Dolius, and again

ὣς οἱ μὲν περὶ δεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πένοντο·

Went over with their father's entertain,

Ὄσσα δʼ ἄρʼ ἄγγελος ὦκα κατὰ πτόλιν ᾤχετο πάντη,

Welcom'd, shook hands, and then to feast sat down.

μνηστήρων στυγερὸν θάνατον καὶ κῆρʼ ἐνέπουσα.

About which while they sat, about the town

οἱ δʼ ἄρʼ ὁμῶς ἀΐοντες ἐφοίτων ἄλλοθεν ἄλλος

Fame flew, and shriek'd about the cruel death

μυχμῷ τε στοναχῇ τε δόμων προπάροιθʼ Ὀδυσῆος,

And fate the Wooers had sustain'd beneath

ἐκ δὲ νέκυς οἴκων φόρεον καὶ θάπτον ἕκαστοι,

Ulysses' roofs. All heard; together all

τοὺς δʼ ἐξ ἀλλάων πολίων οἶκόνδε ἕκαστον

From hence and thence met in Ulysses' hall,

πέμπον ἄγειν ἁλιεῦσι θοῇς ἐπὶ νηυσὶ τιθέντες·

Short-breath'd and noiseful, bore out all the dead

αὐτοὶ δʼ εἰς ἀγορὴν κίον ἀθρόοι, ἀχνύμενοι κῆρ.

To instant burial, while their deaths were spread

αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἤγερθεν ὁμηγερέες τʼ ἐγένοντο,

To other neighbour cities where they liv'd,

τοῖσιν δʼ Εὐπείθης ἀνά θʼ ἵστατο καὶ μετέειπε·

From whence in swiftest fisher-boats arriv'd

παιδὸς γάρ οἱ ἄλαστον ἐνὶ φρεσὶ πένθος ἔκειτο,

Men to transfer them home. In mean space here