Book XVI

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Telemachus sends Eumaeus to the city to tell his mother of

his return. And how, in the meantime, Odysseus discovers

himself to his son.

Now these twain, Odysseus and the goodly swineherd, within

the hut had kindled a fire, and were making ready breakfast

at the dawn, and had sent forth the herdsmen with the

droves of swine. And round Telemachus the hounds, that love

to bark, fawned and barked not, as he drew nigh. And goodly

Odysseus took note of the fawning of the dogs, and the

noise of footsteps fell upon his ears. Then straight he

spake to Eumaeus winged words:

'Eumaeus, verily some friend or some other of thy familiars

will soon be here, for the dogs do not bark but fawn

around, and I catch the sound of footsteps.'

While the word was yet on his lips, his own dear son stood

at the entering in of the gate. Then the swineherd sprang

up in amazement, and out of his hands fell the vessels

wherewith he was busied in mingling the dark wine. And he

came over against his master and kissed his head and both

his beautiful eyes and both his hands, and he let a great

tear fall. And even as a loving father welcomes his son

that has come in the tenth year from a far country, his

only son and well-beloved, for whose sake he has had great

sorrow and travail, even so did the goodly swineherd fall

upon the neck of godlike Telemachus, and kiss him all over

as one escaped from death, and he wept aloud and spake to

him winged words:

'Thou art come, Telemachus, a sweet light in the dark;

methought I should see thee never again, after thou hadst

gone in thy ship to Pylos. Nay now enter, dear child, that

my heart may be glad at the sight of thee in mine house,

who hast newly come from afar. For thou dost not often

visit the field and the herdsmen, but abidest in the town;

so it seems has thy good pleasure been, to look on the

ruinous throng of the wooers.'

Then wise Telemachus answered him, saying: 'So be it,

father, as thou sayest; and for thy sake am I come hither

to see thee with mine eyes, and to hear from thy lips

whether my mother yet abides in the halls or another has

already wedded her, and the couch of Odysseus, perchance,

lies in lack of bedding and deep in foul spider-webs.'

Then the swineherd, a master of men, answered him: 'Yea

verily, she abides with patient spirit in thy halls, and

wearily for her the nights wane always and the days, in

shedding of tears.'

So he spake and took from him the spear of bronze. Then

Telemachus passed within and crossed the threshold of

stone. As he came near, his father Odysseus arose from his

seat to give him place; but Telemachus, on his part, stayed

him and spake saying:

'Be seated, stranger, and we will find a seat some other

where in our steading, and there is a man here to set it

for us.'

So he spake, and Odysseus went back and sat him down again.

And the swineherd strewed for Telemachus green brushwood

below, and a fleece thereupon, and there presently the dear

son of Odysseus sat him down. Next the swineherd set by

them platters of roast flesh, the fragments that were left

from the meal of yesterday. And wheaten bread he briskly

heaped up in baskets, and mixed the honey-sweet wine in a

goblet of ivy wood, and himself sat down over against

divine Odysseus. So they stretched forth their hands upon

the good cheer set before them. Now when they had put from

them the desire of meat and drink, Telemachus spake to the

goodly swineherd, saying:

'Father, whence came this stranger to thee? How did sailors

bring him to Ithaca? and who did they avow them to be? For

in no wise, I deem, did he come hither by land.'

Then didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: 'Yea now,

my son, I will tell thee all the truth. Of wide Crete he

avows him to be by lineage, and he says that round many

cities of mortals he has wandered at adventure; even so has

some god spun for him the thread of fate. But now, as a

runaway from a ship of the Thesprotians, has he come to my

steading, and I will give him to thee for thy man; do with

him as thou wilt; he avows him for thy suppliant.'

Then wise Telemachus answered him, saying: 'Eumaeus, verily

a bitter word is this that thou speakest. How indeed shall

I receive this guest in my house? Myself I am young, and

trust not yet to my strength of hands to defend me against

the man who does violence without a cause. And my mother

has divisions of heart, whether to abide here with me and

keep the house, respecting the bed of her lord and the

voice of the people, or straightway to go with whomsoever

of the Achaeans that woo her in the halls is the best man,

and gives most bridal gifts. But behold, as for this guest

of thine, now that he has come to thy house, I will clothe

him in a mantle and a doublet, goodly raiment, and I will

give him a two-edged sword, and shoes for his feet, and

send him on his way, whithersoever his heart and his spirit

bid him go. Or, if thou wilt, hold him here in the steading

and take care of him, and raiment I will send hither, and

all manner of food to eat, that he be not ruinous to thee

and to thy fellows. But thither into the company of the

wooers would I not suffer him to go, for they are exceeding

full of infatuate insolence, lest they mock at him, and

that would be a sore grief to me. And hard it is for one

man, how valiant soever, to achieve aught among a

multitude, for verily they are far the stronger.'

Then the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him: 'My

friend, since it is indeed my right to answer thee withal,

of a truth my heart is rent as I hear your words, such

infatuate deeds ye say the wooers devise in the halls, in

despite of thee, a man so noble. Say, dost thou willingly

submit thee to oppression, or do the people through the

township hate thee, obedient to the voice of a god? Or hast

thou cause to blame thy brethren, in whose battle a man

puts trust, even if a great feud arise? Ah, would that I

had the youth, as now I have the spirit, and were either

the son of noble Odysseus or Odysseus' very self, {*}

straightway then might a stranger sever my head from off my

neck, if I went not to the halls of Odysseus, son of

Laertes, and made myself the bane of every man among them!

But if they should overcome me by numbers, being but one

man against so many, far rather would I die slain in mine

own halls, than witness for ever these unseemly deeds,

strangers shamefully entreated, and men haling the

handmaidens in foul wise through the fair house, and wine

drawn wastefully and the wooers devouring food all

recklessly without avail, at a work that knows no ending.'

{* We omit line 101, which spoils the sense of the passage,

and was rejected by antiquity.}

Then wise Telemachus answered him, saying: 'Yea now,

stranger I will plainly tell thee all. There is no grudge

and hatred borne my by the whole people, neither have I

cause to blame my brethren, in whose battle a man puts

trust, even if a great feud arise. For thus, as thou seest,

Cronion has made us a house of but one heir. Arceisius got

him one only son Laertes, and one only son Odysseus was

begotten of his father, and Odysseus left me the only child

of his getting in these halls, and had no joy of me;

wherefore now are foemen innumerable in the house. For all

the noblest that are princes in the islands, in Dulichium

and Same and wooded Zacynthus, and as many as lord it in

rocky Ithaca, all these woo my mother and waste my house.

But as for her she neither refuseth the hated bridal, nor

hath the heart to make and end; so they devour and minish

my house; and ere long will they make havoc likewise of

myself. Howbeit these things surely lie on the knees of the

gods. Nay, father, but do thou go with haste and tell the

constant Penelope that she hath got me safe and that I am

come up out of Pylos. As for me, I will tarry here, and do

thou return hither when thou hast told the tidings to her

alone; but of the other Achaeans let no man learn it, for

there be many that devise mischief against me.'

Then didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: 'I mark, I

heed, all this thou speakest to one with understanding. But

come, declare me this and tell it plainly; whether or no I

shall go the same road with tidings to Laertes, that

hapless man, who till lately, despite his great sorrow for

Odysseus' sake, yet had oversight of the tillage, and did

eat and drink with the thralls in his house, as often as

his heart within him bade him. But now, from the day that

thou wentest in thy ship to Pylos, never to this hour, they

say, hath he so much as eaten and drunken, nor looked to

the labours of the field, but with groaning and lamentation

he sits sorrowing, and the flesh wastes away about his

bones.'

Then wise Telemachus answered him, saying: 'All the more

grievous it is! yet will we let him be, though we sorrow

thereat. For if men might in any wise have all their will,

we should before ought else choose the day of my father's

returning. But do thou when thou hast told the tidings come

straight back, and go not wandering through the fields

after Laertes. But speak to my mother that with all speed

she send forth the house-dame her handmaid, secretly, for

she might bear tidings to the old man.'

With that word he roused the swineherd, who took his

sandals in his hands and bound them beneath his feet and

departed for the city. Now Athene noted Eumaeus the

swineherd pass from the steading, and she drew nigh in the

semblance of a woman fair and tall, and skilled in splendid

handiwork. And she stood in presence manifest to Odysseus

over against the doorway of the hut; but it was so that

Telemachus saw her not before him and marked her not; for

the gods in no wise appear visibly to all. But Odysseus was

ware of her and the dogs likewise, which barked not, but

with a low whine shrank cowering to the far side of the

steading. Then she nodded at him with bent brows, and

goodly Odysseus perceived it, and came forth from the room,

past the great wall of the yard, and stood before her, and

Athene spake to him, saying:

'Son of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many

devices, now is the hour to reveal thy word to thy son, and

hide it not, that ye twain having framed death and doom for

the wooers, may fare to the famous town. Nor will I, even

I, be long away from you, being right eager for battle.'

Therewith Athene touched him with her golden wand. First

she cast about his breast a fresh linen robe and a doublet,

and she increased his bulk and bloom. Dark his colour grew

again, and his cheeks filled out, and the black beard

spread thick around his chin.

Now she, when she had so wrought, withdrew again, but

Odysseus went into the hut, and his dear son marvelled at

him and looked away for very fear lest it should be a god,

and he uttered his voice and spake to him winged words:

'Even now, stranger, thou art other in my sight than that

thou wert a moment since, and other garments thou hast, and

the colour of thy skin is no longer the same. Surely thou

art a god of those that keep the wide heaven. Nay then, be

gracious, that we may offer to thee well-pleasing

sacrifices and golden gifts, beautifully wrought; and spare

us I pray thee.'

Then the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him, saying:

'Behold, no god am I; why likenest thou me to the

immortals? nay, thy father am I, for whose sake thou

sufferest many pains and groanest sore, and submittest thee

to the despite of men,'

At the word he kissed his son, and from his cheeks let a

tear fall to earth: before, he had stayed the tears

continually. But Telemachus (for as yet he believed not

that it was his father) answered in turn and spake, saying:

'Thou art not Odysseus my father, but some god beguiles me,

that I may groan for more exceeding sorrow. For it cannot

be that a mortal man should contrive this by the aid of his

own wit, unless a god were himself to visit him, and

lightly of his own will to make him young or old. For

truly, but a moment gone, thou wert old and foully clad,

but now thou art like the gods who keep the wide heaven.'

Then Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying:

'Telemachus, it fits thee not to marvel overmuch that thy

father is come home, or to be amazed. Nay for thou shalt

find no other Odysseus come hither any more; but lo, I, all

as I am, after sufferings and much wandering have come in

the twentieth year to mine own country. Behold, this is the

work of Athene, driver of the spoil, who makes me such

manner of man as she will,--for with her it is possible,--

now like a beggar, and now again like a young man, and one

clad about in rich raiment. Easy it is for the gods who

keep the wide heaven to glorify or to abase a mortal man.'

With this word then he sat down again; but Telemachus,

flinging himself upon his noble father's neck, mourned and

shed tears, and in both their hearts arose the desire of

lamentation. And they wailed aloud, more ceaselessly than

birds, sea-eagles or vultures of crooked claws, whose

younglings the country folk have taken from the nest, ere

yet they are fledged. Even so pitifully fell the tears

beneath their brows. And now would the sunlight have gone

down upon their sorrowing, had not Telemachus spoken to his

father suddenly:

'And in what manner of ship, father dear, did sailors at

length bring thee hither to Ithaca? and who did they avow

them to be? For in no wise, I deem, didst thou come hither

by land.'

And the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him: 'Yea now,

my child, I will tell thee all the truth. The Phaeacians

brought me hither, mariners renowned, who speed other men

too upon their way, whosoever comes to them. Asleep in the

swift ship they bore me over the seas and set me down in

Ithaca, and gave me splendid gifts, bronze and gold in

plenty and woven raiment. And these treasures are lying by

the gods' grace in the caves. But now I am come hither by

the promptings of Athene, that we may take counsel for the

slaughter of the foemen. But come, tell me all the tale of

the wooers and their number, that I may know how many and

what men they be, and that so I may commune with my good

heart and advise me, whether we twain shall be able alone

to make head against them without aid, or whether we should

even seek succour of others.'

Then wise Telemachus answered him, saying: 'Verily, father,

I have ever heard of thy great fame, for a warrior hardy of

thy hands, and sage in counsel. But this is a hard saying

of thine: awe comes over me; for it may not be that two men

should do battle with many men and stalwart. For of the

wooers there are not barely ten nor twice ten only, but

many a decad more: and straight shalt thou learn the tale

of them ere we part. From Dulichium there be two and fifty

chosen lords, and six serving men go with them; and out of

Same four and twenty men; and from Zacynthus there are

twenty lords of the Achaeans; and from Ithaca itself full

twelve men of the best, and with them Medon the henchman,

and the divine minstrel, and two squires skilled in carving

viands. If we shall encounter all these within the halls,

see thou to it, lest bitter and baneful for us be the

vengeance thou takest on their violence at thy coming. But

do thou, if thou canst think of some champion, advise thee

of any that may help us with all his heart.'

Then the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him, saying:

'Yea now, I will tell thee, and do thou mark and listen to

me, and consider whether Athene with Father Zeus will

suffice for us twain, or whether I shall cast about for

some other champion.'

Then wise Telemachus answered him, saying: 'Valiant

helpers, in sooth, are these two thou namest, whose seat is

aloft in the clouds, and they rule among all men and among

the deathless gods!'

Then the steadfast goodly Odysseus answered him: 'Yet will

the twain not long keep aloof from the strong tumult of

war, when between the wooers and us in my halls is held the

trial of the might of Ares. But as now, do thou go homeward

at the breaking of the day, and consort with the proud

wooers. As for me, the swineherd will lead me to the town

later in the day, in the likeness of a beggar, a wretched

man and an old. And if they shall evil entreat me in the

house, let thy heart harden itself to endure while I am

shamefully handled, yea even if they drag me by the feet

through the house to the doors, or cast at me and smite me:

still do thou bear the sight. Howbeit thou shalt surely bid

them cease from their folly, exhorting them with smooth

words; yet no whit will they hearken, nay for the day of

their doom is at hand. Yet another thing will I tell thee,

and do thou ponder it in thy heart. When Athene, of deep

counsel, shall put it into my heart, I will nod to thee

with my head and do thou note it, and carry away all thy

weapons of war that lie in the halls, and lay them down

every one in the secret place of the lofty chamber. And

when the wooers miss them and ask thee concerning them,

thou shalt beguile them with soft words, saying:

'"Out of the smoke I laid them by, since they were no

longer like those that Odysseus left behind him of old when

he went to Troy, but they are wholly marred: so mightily

hath passed upon them the vapour of fire. Moreover Cronion

hath put into my heart this other and greater care, that

perchance, when ye are heated with wine, ye set a quarrel

between you and wound one the other and thereby shame the

feast and the wooing; for iron of itself draws a man

thereto." But for us twain alone leave two swords and two

spears and two shields of oxhide to grasp, that we may rush

upon the arms and seize them; and then shall Pallas Athene

and Zeus the counsellor enchant the wooers to their ruin.

Yet another thing will I tell thee, and do thou ponder it

in thy heart. If in very truth thou art my son and of our

blood, then let no man hear that Odysseus is come home;

neither let Laertes know it, nor the swineherd nor any of

the household nor Penelope herself, but let me and thee

alone discover the intent of the women. Yea, and we would

moreover make trial of certain of the men among the

thralls, and learn who {*} of them chances to honour us and

to fear us heartily, and who regards us not at all and

holds even thee in no esteem, so noble a man as thou art.'

{* Reading [Greek]}

Then his renowned son answered him, and said: 'O my father,

of a truth thou shalt learn, methinks, even hereafter what

spirit I am of, for no whit doth folly possess me. But I

deem not that this device of thine will be gainful to us

twain, so I bid thee to give heed. For thou shalt be long

time on thy road to little purpose, making trial of each

man, while thou visitest the farm lands; but at ease in thy

halls the wooers devour thy goods with insolence, and now

there is no sparing. Howbeit I would have thee take

knowledge of the women, who they be that dishonour thee,

and who are guiltless. But of the men I would not that we

should make trial in the steadings, but that we should see

to this task afterwards, if indeed thou knowest some sign

from Zeus, lord of the aegis.'

Thus they spake one to the other. And now the well-builded

ship was being brought to land at Ithaca, the ship that

bare Telemachus from Pylos with all his company. When they

were now come within the deep harbour, the men drew up the

black ship on the shore, while squires, haughty of heart,

bare away their weapons, and straightway carried the

glorious gifts to the house of Clytius. Anon they sent

forward a herald to the house of Odysseus to bear the

tidings to prudent Penelope, namely, how Telemachus was in

the field, and had bidden the ship sail to the city, lest

the noble queen should be afraid, and let the round tears

fall. So these two met, the herald and the goodly

swineherd, come on the same errand to tell all to the lady.

Now when they were got to the house of the divine king, the

herald spake out among all the handmaids saying:

'Verily, O queen, thy son hath come out of Pylos.'

But the swineherd went up to Penelope, and told her all

that her dear son had bidden him say. So, when he had

declared all that had been enjoined him, he went on his way

to the swine and left the enclosure and the hall.

Now the wooers were troubled and downcast in spirit, and

forth they went from the hall past the great wall of the

court, and there in front of the gates they held their

session. And Eurymachus son of Polybus first spake among

them saying:

'Verily, friends, a proud deed hath Telemachus accomplished

with a high hand, even this journey, and we said that he

should never bring it to pass. But come, launch we a black

ship, the best there is, and let us get together oarsmen of

the sea, who shall straightway bear word to our friends to

return home with speed.'

The word was yet on his lips, when Amphinomus turned in his

place and saw the ship within the deep harbour, and the men

lowering the sails and with the oars in their hands. Then

sweetly he laughed out and spake among his fellows:

'Nay, let us now send no message any more, for lo, they are

come home. Either some god has told them all or they

themselves have seen the ship of Telemachus go by, and have

not been able to catch her.'

Thus he spake, and they arose and went to the sea-banks.

Swiftly the men drew up the black ship on the shore, and

squires, haughty of heart, bare away their weapons. And the

wooers all together went to the assembly-place, and

suffered none other to sit with them, either of the young

men or of the elders. Then Antinous spake among them, the

son of Eupeithes:

'Lo now, how the gods have delivered this man from his evil

case! All day long did scouts sit along the windy

headlands, ever in quick succession, and at the going down

of the sun we never rested for a night upon the shore, but

sailing with our swift ship on the high seas we awaited the

bright Dawn, as we lay in wait for Telemachus, that we

might take and slay the man himself; but meanwhile some god

has brought him home. But even here let us devise an evil

end for him, even for Telemachus, and let him not escape

out of our hands, for methinks that while he lives we shall

never achieve this task of ours. For he himself has

understanding in counsel and wisdom, and the people no

longer show us favour in all things. Nay come, before he

assembles all the Achaeans to the gathering; for methinks

that he will in nowise be slack, but will be exceeding

wroth, and will stand up and speak out among them all, and

tell how we plotted against him sheer destruction but did

not overtake him. Then will they not approve us, when they

hear these evil deeds. Beware then lest they do us a harm,

and drive us forth from our country, and we come to the

land of strangers. Nay, but let us be beforehand and take

him in the field far from the city, or by the way; and let

us ourselves keep his livelihood and his possessions,

making fair division among us, but the house we would give

to his mother to keep and to whomsoever marries her. But if

this saying likes you not, but ye chose rather that he

should live and keep the heritage of his father, no longer

then let us gather here and eat all his store of pleasant

substance, but let each one from his own hall woo her with

his bridal gifts and seek to win her; so should she wed the

man that gives the most and comes as the chosen of fate.'

So he spake, and they all held their peace. Then Amphinomus

made harangue and spake out among them; he was the famous

son of Nisus the prince, the son of Aretias, and he led the

wooers that came from out Dulichium, a land rich in wheat

and in grass, and more than all the rest his words were

pleasing to Penelope, for he was of an understanding mind.

And now of his good will he made harangue, and spake among

them:

'Friends, I for one would not choose to kill Telemachus; it

is a fearful thing to slay one of the stock of kings! Nay,

first let us seek to the counsel of the gods, and if the

oracles of great Zeus approve, myself I will slay him and

bid all the rest to aid. But if the gods are disposed to

avert it, I bid you to refrain.'

So spake Amphinomus, and his saying pleased them well. Then

straightway they arose and went to the house of Odysseus,

and entering in sat down on the polished seats.

Then the wise Penelope had a new thought, namely, to show

herself to the wooers, so despiteful in their insolence;

for she had heard of the death of her son that was to be in

the halls, seeing that Medon the henchman had told her of

it; who heard their counsels. So she went on her way to the

hall, with the women her handmaids. Now when that fair lady

had come unto the wooers, she stood by the pillar of the

well-builded roof, holding up her glistening tire before

her face, and rebuked Antinous and spake and hailed him:

'Antinous, full of all insolence, deviser of mischief! and

yet they say that in the land of Ithaca thou art chiefest

among thy peers in counsel and in speech. Nay, no such man

dost thou show thyself. Fool! why indeed dost thou contrive

death and doom for Telemachus, and hast no regard unto

suppliants who have Zeus to witness? Nay but it is an

impious thing to contrive evil one against another. What!

knowest thou not of the day when thy father fled to this

house in fear of the people, for verily they were exceeding

wroth against him, because he had followed with Taphian sea

robbers and harried the Thesprotians, who were at peace

with us. So they wished to destroy thy father and wrest

from him his dear life, and utterly to devour all his great

and abundant livelihood; but Odysseus stayed and withheld

them, for all their desire. His house thou now consumest

without atonement, and his wife thou wooest, and wouldst

slay his son, and dost greatly grieve me. But I bid thee

cease, and command the others to do likewise.'

Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her saying:

'Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, take courage, and let

not thy heart be careful for these things. The man is not,

nor shall be, nor ever shall be born, that shall stretch

forth his hands against Telemachus, thy son, while I live

and am on earth and see the light. For thus will I declare

to thee, and it shall surely come to pass. Right quickly

shall the black blood of such an one flow about our spear;

for Odysseus, waster of cities, of a truth did many a time

set me too upon his knees, and gave me roasted flesh into

my hand, and held the red wine to my lips. Wherefore

Telemachus is far the dearest of all men to me, and I bid

him have no fear of death, not from the wooers' hands; but

from the gods none may avoid it.'

Thus he spake comforting her, but was himself the while

framing death for her son.

Now she ascended to her shining upper chamber, and then was

bewailing Odysseus, her dear lord, till grey-eyed Athene

cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.

And in the evening the goodly swineherd came back to

Odysseus and his son, and they made ready and served the

supper, when they had sacrificed a swine of a year old.

Then Athene drew near Odysseus, son of Laertes, and smote

him with her wand, and made him into an old man again. In

sorry raiment she clad him about his body, lest the

swineherd should look on him and know him, and depart to

tell the constant Penelope, and not keep the matter in his

heart.

Then Telemachus spake first to the swineherd, saying:

'Thou hast come, goodly Eumaeus. What news is there in the

town? Are the lordly wooers now come in from their ambush,

or do they still watch for me as before on my homeward

way?'

Then didst thou make answer, swineherd Eumaeus: 'I had no

mind to go down the city asking and inquiring hereof; my

heart bade me get me home again, as quick as might be, when

once I had told the tidings. And the swift messenger from

thy company joined himself unto me, the henchman, who was

the first to tell the news to thy mother. Yet this, too, I

know, if thou wouldest hear; for I beheld it with mine

eyes. Already had I come in my faring above the city, where

is the hill Hermaean, when I marked a swift ship entering

our haven, and many men there were in her, and she was

laden with shields and two-headed spears, and methought

they were the wooers, but I know not at all.'

So spake he, and the mighty prince Telemachus smiled, and

glanced at his father, while he shunned the eye of the

swineherd.

Now when they had ceased from the work and got supper

ready, they fell to feasting, and their hearts lacked not

ought of the equal banquet. But when they had put from them

the desire of meat and drink, they bethought them of rest,

and took the boon of sleep.

Read next: Book XVII

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