by Homer
I’ll make you honored, a well-loved friend in my great hall.
I gave him the clothes myself, those you remembered.
I folded and took them out of their room, and I added
the shining brooch to make him glad. But now I will never
welcome him home to the well-loved land of his fathers.
Odysseus went with an evil doom in that hollow
ship to Troy—it’s Evil itself—no one should name it.”
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The Husband Is Very Near
Full of designs Odysseus answered by saying,
“Honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes,
don’t keep spoiling your beautiful face any longer,
wasting your heart and mourning your husband. Though no one
blames a woman for mourning her husband who’s perished—
the pair have made love, she’s borne him their children—
and more for Odysseus who looked, they say, like a great God—
still you should stop this grieving. Hear out my story:
everything’s true that I tell you, nothing’s in hiding.
“I heard myself of Odysseus’s homecoming lately.
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♦ The man’s close by in rich Thesprotian country.
Alive he’ll bring home lots of beautiful treasures
he sought throughout that land. But war-friends he trusted
all were lost. His hollow ship went down in the wine-dark
sea when he left Thrinakie Island. Zeus and the Sun-God
were angry because his men had slaughtered the God’s bulls.
All his crewmen died in the roar of the high sea.
“But rollers tossed Odysseus, riding the ship’s keel,
ashore on Phaiakian land. Their line is the Gods’ own:
they took him to heart fully as though he were great Zeus.
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They gave him plenty of presents, glad they could send him
home unharmed. Odysseus might have arrived here
a while ago but he felt in his heart it was better
to come back wealthy, to travel over the wide earth.
Odysseus knows plenty of schemes better than any
death-bound man—no other person could match him—
so I was told by Pheidon, Thesprotia’s ruler.
He swore to me, pouring wine for the Gods in his own house,
a crew was ready, a ship’s been hauled to the water
and men would send him now to the well-loved land of his fathers.
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Great Wealth Coming
“But first he sent me off. Thesprotian shipmen
were bound by chance for Doulikhion, known for its good grains.
He showed me all the wealth amassed by Odysseus,
enough to feed his heirs to the tenth generation—
that much treasure lay in the house of the ruler.
He told me Odysseus went to Dodone to hear out
plans of Zeus from the God’s oak with its high leaves:
how to return to the well-loved land of his fathers?
Openly? In secret? The man had been gone for a long time.
Arrival at Long Last
“So he is quite safe now. Already approaching,
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very close, he won’t be away from his loved ones
and fathers’ land for long. I’ll swear to it fully,
Zeus be my witness first, the highest and best God.
I swear by faultless Odysseus’s hearth I arrived at:
truly it all will end the way I have told you.
This very month Odysseus finally sails home
when the old moon’s waned and the new one is waxing.”
No, the Man Is Lost
But mind-full Penelopeia answered by saying,
“Ah my guest, if only your words could become real!
You’d quickly know of my friendship, all the gifts I’d lavish
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making those who met you say you are well blessed.
But now my heart foresees the way it will happen:
Odysseus won’t come home, nor will your send-off
take place for our household masters are hardly
the way Odysseus was, a man among men—if he ever
lived. He honored strangers and sent them away well.
A Bath and Oil for the Stranger
“Now you handmaids, wash the stranger and set out
a bed with covers and blankets glistening brightly
to warm him well till Dawn arrives on her gold throne.
Then you’ll bathe and anoint him early tomorrow.
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He’ll sit right there at Telemakhos’s side in the great hall
while planning to dine. And any man who annoys him
or maims his heart will fare far worse, never availing
a thing in my house, despite the extreme of his anger.
“For how will you know, my guest, whether I stand out,
the best of women in thoughtful counsel and insight,
the way you’ve sat in my hall to dine unanointed
and wearing rags? Men exist for a short time.
The man who never cares or knows about caring
is cursed and all men pray he’ll suffer in good time
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while living and after his death everyone mocks him.
Ah but the man who’s blameless and knows what is blameless:
strangers carry his name and honor a long way
to throngs of people. Many call him the best man.”
Only an Older Woman
Yet Odysseus answered, full of his own plans,
“Honored wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes:
glowing blankets and covers on beds are distasteful
right from the first day I left behind me the snowy
mountains of Krete, boarding a ship with its long oars.
Tonight I’ll rest as I’ve always rested on other
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sleepless nights, lying down on unlikely
cots and waiting for Dawn, bright on her gold throne.
Foot-baths too no longer agree with my spirits:
none of your women now will handle these old feet.
Of all those helpers working hard in your household
♦ maybe an older handmaid, knowing and careful,
whose heart has borne as many troubles as I have—
if such a woman should touch my feet I would let her.”
Mind-full Penelopeia answered by saying,
“Dear guest, no man so tactful ever arrived here,
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not one friendly, far-off stranger joining my household—
so wise and well thought out are all of your sayings.
One old woman is heartily thoughtful and caring,
having nursed and raised my sorry husband:
her hands held him after his mother had borne him.
She’ll wash your feet despite her weakness and old age.
“Come on then, thoughtful Eurukleia, stand up and wash him.
The man is old as your master. Doubtless Odysseus’s
feet are now like this and his hands could be just so—
people in pain and misery age in a hurry.”
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No Thanks from Zeus
Soon as she’d spoken the woman covered her old face,
shedding some warm tears and answering sadly,
“I’m helpless, child. Odysseus! Zeus must have loathed you
beyond all men in spite of your God-fearing spirit.
No one burned for that God, who revels in thunder,
so many fat-rich thighs and hecatombs ever.
You offered so much while praying you’d come to your old age
healthy and shining, and raise your son to be well known.
But Zeus has removed your way back home—and yours only.
So Like Odysseus
&nbs
p; “Women undoubtedly mocked my lord in a far-off
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land of strangers after he came to some well-known
house like you, stranger, mocked by all of these bitches.
So now to avoid their many disgraceful insults
you won’t allow them to wash you. I’m hardly unwilling,
told by Ikarios’s daughter, mind-full Penelopeia.
I will wash your feet both for Penelopeia’s
sake and your own. The heart inside me is caring
if troubled. Come on though, hear some words I will tell you:
plenty of harshly tested strangers have come here,
yet I can say I’ve never seen such a likeness—
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your shape, your voice and feet are so like Odysseus’s.”
The Scar
Full of designs Odysseus answered by saying,
“So everyone tells me, woman, those who have seen us
both with their own eyes. We closely resemble each other.
Now you’ve seen it yourself and told me the same thing.”
He spoke that way as the woman, holding a shining
basin for washing his feet, poured out the water—
plenty of cold then splashes of hot. As Odysseus
sat by the fire though, he turned his face to the dark side
♦ suddenly thinking the scar: what if she grasped him
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there and saw it? His work would be out in the open!
She came close, she started to wash her master and promptly
saw the scar—from a boar’s white tusk in the old days.
The Name of Odysseus
♦ He’d gone to Parnesos. Autolukos lived with his sons there,
his mother’s kindly father—and better than all men
at swearing and stealing! A God himself had endowed him:
he’d pleased the God Hermes by burning the best thighs
of goats and sheep. Hermes favored him gladly.
Autolukos once had gone to farm-rich Ithakan country,
arriving there for the newborn son of his daughter.
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Eurukleia placed the boy on his friendly
knees after he dined. She spoke up and asked him,
“Autolukos, find us a name to give to your grandson.
This child of your own child often was prayed for.”
Autolukos promptly answered the woman by saying,
“My daughter and son-in-law, give him the name I will tell you.
Because I came here ‘at odds’ myself with so many
on richly nourishing ground, with women and men both,
let the boy’s name be ‘Odysseus.’ Soon as the child grows,
a man who arrives at the great house of his mother’s
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line at Parnesos, the place of my wealth and resources,
I’ll give him treasure there and send him off happy.”
A Bull and a Feast
In time Odysseus went for that ruler’s outstanding
gifts and Autolukos welcomed the man with a handshake
and gentle words. The sons of Autolukos joined him.
Amphithea, his mother’s mother, embraced him,
kissing her son-in-law’s head and both of his fine eyes.
Lordly Autolukos promptly called to his highly
praised sons to get ready to dine. They followed his prompting
and shortly led in a bull, a five-year-old beauty.
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They killed and flayed it, cut off the limbs and adroitly
sliced off smaller pieces. They carefully spit them,
roasted them all and gave out everyone’s portion.
All day long they ate and drank until sundown;
no one’s hunger or heart went lacking a good share.
Soon as the Sun-God sank and darkness arrived there
they lay right down and took the gift of a night’s sleep.
The Hunt
When newborn Dawn came on with her rose-fingered daylight,
they all went out for a chase: Autolukos’s own sons,
the dogs as well and godlike Odysseus joined them.
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They climbed the steep mountain, wooded Parnesos
clothed in green and soon arrived in some windy
hollows. The Sun-God was newly lighting the farmland—
Helios rose from the gentle flow of deep Okeanos—
when hunters arrived at a glen. Racing before them
the dogs had followed a scent: closing behind them
were sons of Autolukos, joined by godlike Odysseus
pressing the dogs closely, shaking a spear with its lengthy
shadow. Nearby was a huge boar, lying in dense brush.
Strong and sea-damp winds could not bluster inside there,
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glaring Helios could hardly throw in his own light
and rain could not fall through: the brush was that thickly
tangled and mounds of leaves had fallen as well there.
A Torn Leg
But then with hounds and horsemen stamping around him