The Odyssey, Page 58

  where battle picks out the truly best men fighting--

  not in any way to disgrace your fathers' ancestors, who

  long ago excelled the world over in manly strength and valor."

  Sagacious Telemachos responded to him, saying:

  510

  "You'll see me, if you so wish, dear father--such is my spirit--

  in no way, as you say, disgracing your ancestry."

  So he spoke. Laertes was glad, and made this declaration:

  "What a great day for me, you kind gods! I've joy past measure!

  Here are my son and my grandson contending over valor!"

  515

  Grey-eyed Athene now came up and addressed him, saying:

  "Ah, son of Arkeisios, of all my friends the dearest,

  pray first to the grey-eyed maiden and to Zeus her father,

  then at once whirl up your far-shadowing spear and throw it!"

  So spoke Pallas Athene, and breathed great strength into him.

  520

  He made his prayer to Pallas Athene, and at once

  whirled up his far-shadowing spear, and threw it, and struck

  Eupeithes through the bronze cheek piece of his helmet,

  which did not hold up the spear: the bronze passed through,

  and he fell with a thud, and his war gear clattered on him.

  525

  Then on their front rank fell Odysseus and his illustrious son,

  striking at them with swords and twin-edged spears.

  And now they'd have killed them all, cut them off from home,

  had not Athene, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus,

  shouted aloud, and stopped dead all the combatants, saying:

  530

  "Cease this disastrous warfare, you men of Ithake,

  so you may part the sooner, and without bloodshed."

  So spoke Athene, and pale fear now seized upon them.

  In their abject terror the arms now flew from their hands

  and dropped to the ground as the goddess uttered these words,

  535

  and they turned toward the city, longing to save their lives.

  Much-enduring noble Odysseus now gave a fearsome shout,

  and gathered himself and swooped like some high-flying eagle;

  but then Kronos' son flung down a smoldering bolt, which landed

  right in front of the grey-eyed child of the mighty Father. At this

  540

  she, grey-eyed Athene, addressed Odysseus, saying:

  "Scion of Zeus, Laertes' son, resourceful Odysseus,

  hold back now, abandon the strife of leveling battle,

  or Kronos' son, far-seeing Zeus, may get angry with you."

  So spoke Athene: he obeyed, and was happy. A sworn

  545

  treaty for time to come was now made between both sides

  by Pallas Athene, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus,

  likening herself to Mentor, in both voice and appearance.

  Synopsis

  BOOK 1

  1-95: Invocation of the Muse; brief (and incomplete) synopsis of Odysseus' adventures prior to his return to Ithake; the hostility of Poseidon (1-21). Assembly of the gods (Poseidon absent). Zeus criticizes human readiness to blame the gods for their own faults, and cites the willfulness of Aigisthos in ignoring Hermes' warnings and killing Agamemnon (22-43). Athene makes the case for rescuing Odysseus from Kalypso's island (44-62). Zeus explains the anger of Poseidon (Odysseus has blinded his son the Kyklops) but agrees that the gods should facilitate Odysseus' homecoming, and that Poseidon must be induced to relent (63-79). Athene asks for Hermes to be sent to tell Kalypso to let Odysseus go, and herself prepares to travel to Ithake to see Telemachos (80-95).

  96-320: Athene's discussion with Telemachos. She flits from Olympos to Ithake in the likeness of Mentes, lord of the Taphians, a family friend; the first introduction of the suitors, and their extravagance (96-112). Telemachos greets the stranger and arranges for hospitality; the suitors come in and indulge themselves; the minstrel Phemios performs (113-55). Telemachos complains to his guest about the suitors, and enquires as to the guest's identity; Athene tells her cover story as Mentes, claims guest-friendship going back a generation, gives us our first picture of Odysseus' old father, Laertes, suggests that Odysseus himself may still be alive, and tells Telemachos how like his father he is (156-212). Athene now questions him about the suitors; Telemachos laments his father's presumed death, and explains about Penelope's dithering over remarriage (213-51). You certainly need him back, the goddess exclaims angrily: Would that he might return as I remember him: that would mean a quick death and a bitter marriage for these men [the first of a number of "prophecies" based on private or divine knowledge]--but all this is on the knees of the gods [including herself] (252-67). Athene now gives him instructions regarding his mother and the suitors and tells him to go to Pylos and Sparta to seek news of his father from Nestor and Menelaos. She also reminds him of the fame Orestes acquired by killing his father's murderer, Aigisthos. He thanks her, and offers further hospitality; no, she tells him, it's time to go, and she flies up like bird. He suspects that his guest was a god (268-320).

  321-444: The minstrel sings; Penelope comes down and listens, but tells him to choose another lay, since the return of the Achaians makes her sad. Telemachos chides her for this, and sends her back to her room (322-64). Telemachos also makes a very tart speech to the suitors about their extravagances, and they are duly surprised. One of them, Antinoos, rounds on him, saying, May you never get to be king! Telemachos backs off a little, but insists he's going to be lord in his own house (365-98). Eurymachos says kingship rests on the knees of the gods, but reassures Telemachos about his possessions. Then he asks about the stranger: who was this? Mentes, says Telemachos; although privately he's convinced it was a god. The suitors continue merrymaking till it is dark, then go home. Telemachos is escorted to his own bedroom by the old nurse Eurykleia, introduced here for the first time, and lies sleepless, thinking about his coming journey (399-444).

  BOOK 2

  1-259: Telemachos has an assembly of the Ithakans summoned. The first speaker is old Aigyptios, one of whose sons has fallen victim to the Kyklops while serving Odysseus after the war. Who, he asks, has called this meeting, the first ever since Odysseus left for Troy? And why has the meeting been called? I called it, Telemachos says, for two reasons: I've lost my father--I'm sure he must be dead by now; and there's no man such as he was to protect us. And now these suitors are after my mother and eating us out of house and home! (1-79) Antinoos points out that his mother has been putting them off for, literally, years, claiming to be weaving a shroud for old Laertes, which she then secretly undoes at night. So the suitors' word is this: she can go back home and wed someone her father chooses, but as long as she stays here dillydallying, we'll go on freeloading off your estate till she marries one of us Achaians (80-128). Telemachos responds: I can't pay back the vast bride-price to my mother's father, Ikarios, and anyway I can't throw out my own mother. You should be eating your own stores! Of course, I can't make you stop freeloading; all I can do is hope for requital from Zeus. At which point Zeus sends an omen of two eagles, duly interpreted by an old seer, Halitherses: Odysseus will indeed soon come home, may indeed be near already, and planning death for the offenders! (129-76) Eurymachos pooh-poohs all this: Odysseus is already dead. Go home [Halitherses] and prophesy to children! Not all birds are ominous. You're just after a gift for saying what would please! Penelope should go back to her father, have him set up the wedding. Otherwise, here we stay, freeloading, till she makes up her mind and marries one of us! Telemachos replies: Enough! No more discussion! Now the gods know what's up, and so does everybody. Right: I want a ship and a crew, to go get news of my father. If he's alive and on his way home, I can last a year longer. If he's dead, I'll have a proper funeral for him, and let my mother marry again. Mentor speaks after him, condemning the Ithakans for saying nothing aga
inst the suitors, though they far outnumber them. He gets an angry retort from Leokritos: even were Odysseus to come back, he'd be outnumbered and killed. And Telemachos will probably never make his journey, just sit at home listening to rumors. The assembly then breaks up (177-259).

  260-434: Telemachos prays to Athene and complains of the suitors' reactions to his proposals. Athene tells him to ignore the suitors and arrange his journey (260-95). Telemachos returns to the hall; Antinoos, contemptuously, tells him to sit down and enjoy himself; the ship and all else he wants will undoubtedly be provided for him. Telemachos retorts that he's now a grown man, he'll do what he can to finish off the suitors, and whatever it takes, he'll make the journey. He angrily withdraws his hand from that of Antinoos. The suitors jeer at him among themselves: oh, him, he'll maybe bring men or drugs to kill us, ha ha, or maybe he'll be shipwrecked and drowned, and then we'll have to share out his property--though his mother and her new husband get the house (261-336). Telemachos goes to the storeroom, calls old Eurykleia, gives her instructions for supplying food and wine for his journey to Pylos and Sparta. Eurykleia tries to dissuade him from going. Telemachos persists (the trip has divine backing): she is not, above all, to tell his mother for eleven or twelve days (or till she notices he's gone). Reluctantly, she promises, and sets about readying the supplies (337-81). Athene, disguised as Telemachos himself, goes round arranging for a ship and a crew, then makes the suitors drunk-drowsy, and ready to go home. It's now dark. She then tells Telemachos that the ship's ready for his departure. Telemachos goes aboard and gives the orders for sailing. Athene provides a west wind. They put out to sea and sail all night (382-434).

  BOOK 3

  1-228: After sunrise they reach Pylos, where a public sacrifice to Poseidon is taking place. Athene, as Mentor, tells Telemachos to go straight to Nestor and question him. Telemachos is shy about approaching his distinguished elders. Athene tells him not to worry: between natural breeding and divine guidance (hers, though she doesn't say so), he'll be fine (1-28). They now join the company. The feast is being prepared. Nestor's son Peisistratos welcomes them as guests, and invites "Mentor" to offer a libation and prayer to Poseidon, as being the older of the two. Athene does so, pleased by his sense of decorum: she invites Poseidon to grant renown to Nestor and his sons, and a successful trip to Telemachos. (H. can't resist adding that she herself was fulfilling these prayers.) Telemachos then also prays and pours a libation, and the feast begins (29-66). When the eating is over, Nestor properly asks the strangers who they are, and what they're doing (business or piracy?). Telemachos, encouraged by Athene, makes a nervous, rambling request for news of his father (67-101). To this Nestor replies with an even longer, more rambling disquisition: he is clearly a master of aged reminiscence. He goes back over the ten-year Trojan War, with compliments to Odysseus for wiliness, but concentrates on the illfated returns (nostoi) of the Greeks, and the divinely inspired quarrel between Menelaos--who wanted to sail at once, and had Nestor's support--and Agamemnon, who wanted to stay and sacrifice further, and was later joined by Odysseus. Nestor himself got home safely, as did the Argives, as well (he had heard) as the Myrmidons, Philoktetes, and the Kretans. He ends by reminding Telemachos of Agamemnon's murder by Aigisthos, and (relevance at last) what a good thing it is for a man to leave a son to avenge him in such cases. Agamemnon had Orestes; Odysseus (presuming his death) had--Telemachos, and a fine young man you are too! Telemachos says gloomily he's had no help from the gods and must endure. Ah, says Nestor, if only Athene would favor you as she did your father! No man was shown such divine favor as he had from Athene! Not a hope, says Telemachos. It won't happen for me, even if the gods will it (102-228).

  229-328: At this, unsurprisingly, Athene--still as Mentor--rounds on Telemachos: a god who so wishes can easily get a man home, however far it may be! I'd rather suffer beforehand and make it back than be killed on my return, like Agamemnon! Though of course--remembering reality--not even the gods can postpone a man's fated death. No return is possible for Odysseus, says Telemachos; and then, switching tack, I'd like to ask Nestor about the truth of Agamemnon's death--what really happened? And where was Menelaos? (229-52) Nestor duly obliges. At first Klytaimnestra resisted; but Aigisthos marooned the minstrel guarding her on a desert island, and she went with him willingly. Meanwhile, shipwreck and wandering kept Menelaos from home, so that Aigisthos ruled Mykenai for seven years. In the eighth, Orestes came back from exile and killed both his mother and Aigisthos; Menelaos got back home on the day of the funeral. So, Nestor concludes, don't you stay away from home for too long! And go to Menelaos: he'll tell you all (253-328).

  329-404: The sun sets, darkness comes on. Athene compliments Nestor on his narrative, but advises him to make last libations to Poseidon and then go home to bed: gods' feasts should not be prolonged too long after dark. Nestor obeys. Athene (as Mentor) and Telemachos make to return to their ship to sleep. Nestor seeks to bed them in his own house. Yes, says Athene, keep Telemachos; but I'll go back to the ship and brief my comrades; then tomorrow we'll leave by sea, I have a debt to collect. You should lend Telemachos a chariot and horses, and send your son with him to Sparta (329-70). Athene now departs as a sea eagle, to general amazement. Nestor at once guesses who this is, tells Telemachos he must be of consequence if the gods look after him, and himself prays to her, promising rich sacrifice. Then he leads his guests indoors: they pour libations, pray to Athene, then retire to sleep, and Telemachos and Peisistratos bed down in the colonnade. (371-404).

  405-97: Early next morning Nestor, his sons, and Telemachos meet outside. Nestor gives immediate instructions for his promised sacrifice to Athene. There is to be a feast; Telemachos' crew is to be summoned for it. Action follows at once: a heifer is fetched, and the goldsmith to gild its horns. Everyone plays a part. The heifer is slaughtered, cut up, and roasted. Telemachos is bathed and dressed by Nestor's daughter. They feast. Nestor gives the word for chariot and horses to be made ready for the guest. Telemachos and Peisistratos mount and leave. After a night's stop at Pherai, they drive on to Sparta.

  BOOK 4

  1-218: The travelers reach Menelaos' domain while he is celebrating a double marriage feast, for a son and a daughter. They are met by Eteoneus, Menelaos' squire, who's not certain whether to admit them or send them on, given the circumstances; Menelaos emphasizes his hospitality by saying, of course, bring them in, what were you thinking? (1-36). The horses are taken care of. The new guests admire the house. They are bathed and massaged and dressed, join the feast, and are welcomed by Menelaos himself, who hears Telemachos whisper to Peisistratos about the splendor of this establishment (37-77). He then launches into a verbose reminiscence about where this wealth came from, mixed up with references to the murder of his brother, Agamemnon, and the fact that he had lost much wealth too (probably what Paris and Helen took with them when they eloped together), so that he didn't get unalloyed pleasure from it. But he mourns most of all, he says, for Odysseus, alive or dead, as his father, wife, and son must do (78-112). This naturally brings tears to Telemachos' eyes, and Menelaos notices: should he question him about his father, or let him bring the subject up himself? (Has he recognized him? We're not directly told.)

  In any case, at this point in comes Helen, with expensive spinning equipment, and the first thing she says to her husband is: This young man is the spitting image of Odysseus! Yes, says Menelaos, now you say so, I see it too. Peisistratos then cuts in on behalf of the shy Telemachos, saying, Yes, it is he, and he's very shy! We've just come from my father, Nestor. Telemachos is after news of his father. He's facing trouble all on his own at home. Menelaos then lists all the things he'd have done for Odysseus if he had come home. But the gods must have been jealous, and granted him no return (113-82). They all weep at this. Peisistratos says, Nestor always said you were understanding. I now weep for my brother Antilochos, though I was too young to know him. Menelaos praises Nestor, then says, No more weeping, let's think about supper. I'll talk to Tel
emachos in the morning. They return to the food (183-218).

  219-305: Helen now puts a pleasure-giving and relaxing drug from Egypt into the wine. This done, she recounts her own ambiguous dealings with Odysseus in Troy, ending with regret at having abandoned her husband and family (219-63). Menelaos then caps this by telling how Helen had tried to tempt the occupants of the Wooden Horse to talk by imitating their wives' voices, but they were kept quiet by the canny Odysseus. Yes, says Telemachos, and not even that was enough to save him from destruction! And now it's time for bed. He and Peisistratos are again bedded down in a colonnade; but Menelaos sleeps beside Helen (264-305).

  306-409: Next morning Menelaos gets up, dresses, goes out, and sits down beside Telemachos. Why has he traveled here? he asks him. Public or private business? Telemachos says he's come for news of his father and explains the trouble with the suitors that is going on at home. Don't be kind to me out of pity, he says; tell me the truth, if ever Odysseus kept any promise to you at Troy (306-31). Menelaos rages against the suitors, saying Odysseus will return like a lion and bring doom upon them! How I wish, he says, that Odysseus would come among them--as strong as he was when he won that wrestling match on Lesbos! They'd meet a quick death and a bitter marriage then! As to what you ask, I swear I'll tell you all the Old Man of the Sea told me! (332-50) He then explains how his ship had been kept in harbor at the island of Pharos, by Egypt, for over twenty days by adverse winds, and he was afraid he and his crew would run out of food. But he was saved by Proteus' daughter Eidothee, to whom he explained that they must have been marooned there through having offended against some god. Could she--whichever all-knowing goddess she was--tell him what god had done it, and how he could get home? (351-81) She replied: Since you ask, I'll explain. My father is Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea, servant of Poseidon. He comes here regularly. If you can catch him, he'll show you how to get home and relate all the good and bad that's been done there while you were away. Menelaos said: It's hard for a mortal to catch a god! Can you tell me a way to do it? The goddess said: Yes! The Old Man comes here from the sea about noon, to sleep, and with him a pack of malodorous seals. I'll take you to the spot at daybreak, with three of your best men, and lay you down there (382-409).