Homer's Daughter

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Homer's Daughter Page 12

by Robert Graves


  Clytoneus apologized, and Antinous went on: “My lord, pray show indulgence to this young man, who is still ignorant of procedure and whose self-control is no stronger than his memory for facts. Let me repeat that we suitors visited the Palace at the King’s direct invitation, and that we propose to come every day until the Princess Nausicaa gives her long-awaited answer—though it must necessarily disappoint one hundred and eleven of the one hundred and twelve. She had better not, in effect, try our patience further, nor presume on the remarkable gifts which the Goddess Athene has showered on her: such as beauty, intelligence, skill in handicraft, and an extraordinary knack of getting her own way, despite the opposition of her kinsfolk. No priestess in legend outshines her in these respects: not Tyro, Poseidon’s bride, nor Zeus’s bride Alcmene. Nevertheless, this remarkably clever girl has overreached herself: so long as she fobs us off with ‘one day soon,’ we shall continue to enjoy the hospitality promised by her father when he kissed Eurymachus and me good-bye; which will mean great and needless expense.”

  Clytoneus beckoned for the rod and, having by now regained full control of his feelings, spoke slowly and quietly: “It is not my sister alone who refuses a forced marriage; it is also my mother, the Queen, whom I am bound to obey in such matters as this, and who can claim to be better informed of the King’s intentions than anyone else in Drepanum; and my uncle Mentor, the Regent, whose attitude Antinous has misrepresented; lastly myself. We all find the conspiracy outrageous and will not be imposed upon. I beg you, my lords, to register our view in your memories, so that my father can be acquainted with it on his return: namely, that the action of my sister’s pretended suitors—some of them wicked, some greedy, some foolish, some merely thoughtless like my lord Aegyptius’s grandson—is robbery in the first degree, for which Elyman law demands a fourfold restitution. Antinous and his fellow criminal Eurymachus—who broached the plot three days ago under a yew tree, where one of Athene’s owls perched listening—are in their own estimation cleverer even than my sister Nausicaa. But they, not she, have overreached themselves! Their antics (laughable though they may seem today) will eventually cost them more than anyone in this Council suspects.

  “My lord Antinous, my lord Eurymachus, and you, my lord Ctesippus, if you have the least shame in your hearts, or reverence for the Blessed Gods, avoid the Palace and feast elsewhere, play cottabus with your own sweet dark wine, and vomit the surfeit of your crammed stomachs on some other floor! But if you have neither shame, nor reverence for the Gods, then eat and drink your fill, as you propose; and I will entreat Zeus, whom I honour, to bring closer the day of reckoning: the day when all enemies of our ancient house shall be utterly destroyed. My lords, how do you read this augury? Yesterday, while the Princess Nausicaa supervised the laundry women beside the Springs of Periboea, an eagle swooped down and made havoc among a covey of impudent sparrows which were feasting on the palace bread. All present saw the sight and wondered.”

  Old Halitherses rose and accepted the rod. “Men of Drepanum, if this augury was indeed seen (and it will be simple to check the report), it can admit of only one reading. The sparrows are suitors who make merry at the King’s expense. They should be restrained—for these signs are warnings rather than prophecies, and doom can be averted in good time by men of experience—before the eagle swoops and makes havoc among them. Signs must always be respected. One evening last year, I saw a strange sight: a young he-goat had slipped into the sea from a cliff and was struggling desperately to scramble ashore in a heavy swell. It is a common opinion that goats are too sure-footed ever to fall, but perhaps part of the cliff had become loosened by continuous rain and given way—and it grieved my heart that I could not save this poor creature because of my great age and the surliness of the sea. So I pondered and asked myself: ‘What young man goes in peril of his life?’ By dawn Prince Laodamas had disappeared!”

  Eurymachus replied: “My lord Halitherses, like all augurs you observe half a hundred sights daily, and those which can be twisted into a prophecy, months or years later, you advance as proof of your prescience; the rest are conveniently forgotten. Birds can always be seen idly fooling about in the sky, or in trees, and a great many of them are birds of prey. If every time a lark flaps her wings or an eagle breakfasts on a sparrow I must spend the next month wondering what trouble it portends, life would become impossible. And then the behaviour of weasels or hares or foxes or goats—there is no end to the divinatory study of animals. Why, look yonder at those two dogs misbehaving behind that pillar! Run home, old man, the sign is meant for you! make sure that your grandchildren are not getting into serious mischief! But first let me warn you against provoking this headstrong young buck, Prince Clytoneus, to violence, in the hope of a handsome present from the royal family. If he attempts to use his budding horns on us, the King’s guests, force will be used, and you will find yourself ordered to pay a heartbreaking fine for incitement to murder… Meanwhile, the more you preach at us the less we shall respect you; it is like shouting into the north-east wind. Antinous and I propose to enjoy the royal hospitality, and nothing can stop us: neither this Prince’s boyish threats nor your tedious auguries.”

  Clytoneus took the white rod for the last time. “My lords,” he said. “Having recorded my suppliant protest before the Gods, and before the people of Drepanum, I await your considered verdict, for which, since I am not yet one of your number, you will not need my vote. If you decline to act in the matter, I shall appeal to the Elyman Assembly. But first let me restate the case point by point…”

  He had only just embarked on his exposition when he became aware of a stir and a murmur from the benches. My uncle Mentor entered, bowed to the Council, and took his accustomed seat. His presence strengthened and encouraged Clytoneus, who held forth with increased eloquence. When he had done, Mentor beckoned for the white rod and spoke as follows: “My lords, some of you are perhaps surprised to see me here. Yesterday I was driving in the royal chariot to Aegesta when a messenger detained me, saying that I was urgently wanted in my own island of Hiera, where a convulsive disease had attacked our red cattle—and that a six-oared boat was waiting on the shore not far off to take me there at once. Suspecting no fraud, I interrupted my journey and clambered aboard. But when, set ashore on Hiera, I ran to my brother-in-law’s house and asked him anxiously how many cows had died, he replied smiling that all the beasts were in good health. He had, however, been sent a message—I could not discover by whom—to expect my arrival: I was supposedly in flight from Drepanum, having been warned that it would be death for me to remain in the town! Retracing my steps to the beach, between relief and annoyance, I found that the six-oarer, the crew of which wore my lord Eurymachus’s house badge, had disappeared. Nor would any of the local fishermen ferry me back to Drepanum, even for a high price, because of certain threats made against my life if I left Hiera. I spent the night with my brother-in-law, but when dawn came, decided to return here, where my business lies. I keep a skiff of my own on Hiera, which I launched on rollers, then stepped the mast, hoisted sail, and ran across in less than two hours.

  “My lords, I beg your close attention. Though no longer the Regent in your eyes, I am still the Regent in the eyes of all honest Elymans who respect and obey the King; and if I choose to visit Aegesta, it will go hard with the man who tries to stop me by force, since trickery has failed. I shall ask the Aegestans to find out on my behalf why you did not challenge the King’s choice of Regent, publicly announced on the morning of his departure; and why you have since approved of a plot to maroon me on Hiera. As for the matter of the suitors, raised by my nephew Clytoneus, I support him wholeheartedly. Not that I wish to do battle with these so-called suitors of my niece. I shall do no more than ask them once again to begone and warn them that to slight me may mean death when the King returns; for the joke has gone too far. They are gay young bachelors and few of them realize the seriousness of their deeds. But the same is not true of you elder men, fathers of families, who
connive at the brutal invasion of your King’s Palace, the stealing of his goods, and the insults offered to his family. During Clytoneus’s speech, has a single expression of sympathy escaped your lips? Has any one of you dared condemn the suitors’ action for what it is—daylight robbery, treason and rebellion?”

  “Come, come, my lord Mentor,” said Aegyptius. “These are strong words. Doubtless you feel aggrieved because the honour which you enjoyed for a few days proved to be illegally bestowed; but do not confuse the issue. This Council can hardly take cognizance of a practical joke played on you by some person unknown: the underlying suggestion being, I suppose that, since you are a Hierian, Hiera is the best field at the moment for your activities. Moreover, the suitors, among them—I admit—one of my grandsons (and I hope that he may prove the successful candidate) appear to be well within their rights. It has been established by two of the councillors, for whom you evince a sudden implacable hatred, that on the morning of his departure the King invited…”

  Because the suitors were many and drawn from almost every family in Drepanum, the meeting took its expected course. The elder councillors did not care to antagonize their kinsfolk, and decided that if as many as one hundred and twelve young men had joined in the banquet, they must have had good grounds for doing so.

  Leiocritus, another of my suitors, made the closing speech. “Have done with this nonsense! What a tempest has been raised on account of one supper! The King could offer a similar banquet every day for a year and notice very little depletion of his immense flocks and herds; though, being the meanest man alive, he asks his daughter to offer them bread, cheese, and spruce beer; and demands an immense dowry from the fortunate suitor as well. Break up this meeting, my lord Aegyptius, and let us all go about our business! If Clytoneus insists that his father’s presence is necessary for the marriage agreement, he has only to take ship and fetch him back from Sandy Pylus. My lords Mentor and Halitherses can arrange the matter between them, though I very much doubt whether Clytoneus, despite his bragging, will have the spirit to leave Drepanum. Come, Antinous, come Eurymachus and Ctesippus, it is time we were off for the day’s banquet at the Palace. The royal herdsmen have been warned to send more beasts.”

  Clytoneus stalked glumly down to the seashore, where he washed his hands in the surf and prayed to Athene for guidance. Athene, as before, was quick to help. She sent Mentor in search of him, and when Clytoneus turned around, there he came.

  “My dear nephew,” cried Mentor, “I am here to tell you how proud I am to find that, as I always hoped, you are neither a coward nor a fool, and that you inherit both your father’s strong-mindedness and your mother’s passionate love of justice and decency. So forget the suitors, their greed and dishonesty; they are fools, led by knaves, and the Gods will destroy them. Your course is to pretend acceptance of Leiocritus’s advice: go to the Palace, collect provisions as if for a voyage to Greece—wine, barley, cheese, and so forth—and I will do what I can to raise a crew among the common people who remain loyal to your father and myself. Any longer stay in Drepanum, even at the Palace, would be dangerous, after your insults to the enemy.”

  Clytoneus asked: “Why ‘as if for a voyage to Greece?’ You mean that I should not, in fact, sail to Sandy Pylus?”

  “I mean exactly that.”

  “Where then? You are not suggesting that I should desert my family?”

  “No: I want you to seek immediate armed assistance. And only one quarter remains where you can hope to find it, because the suitors have now, I hear, sent representatives to Aegesta and Eryx and poisoned the citizens’ minds against us; Eryx has already ruled that my regency is unconstitutional. You must approach your brother Halius, who has been elected war leader of the Sicels in Minoa, and appeal to him. Even resentment of your father’s stern action long ago will surely not prevent Halius from running to the defence of his beloved mother and your sister Nausicaa. He used to carry Nausicaa on his back when she was a little girl, and wept bitter tears when he had to leave her.”

  “And you, Uncle? You disregard their threats and have not insulted them less openly than I did.”

  Mentor shrugged his shoulders. “I think that I know what duty I owe my King,” he said in firm tones.

  CHAPTER

  NINE

  CLYTONEUS

  SAILS

  Clytoneus returned heavyhearted to the Palace, where he found the suitors rejoiced by the turn events had taken, many of them having been afraid that the Council would intervene decisively. They were lounging about in the cloisters of the outer court, tossing small quoits or playing backgammon, while their servants skinned goats and singed fat hogs around the great altar. Antinous sauntered up with a cheerful smile and clasped Clytoneus’s hand. “My dear Prince,” he cried, beaming, “how glad I am that you have come to join us! You were seething and walloping like a stewpot back there in the Temple of Poseidon; but now, since the Council have rejected your protest as frivolous, you must be sensible and realize that we are not here without good cause. Well, well: public speaking exhausts a man who has not made it a lifelong practice, and I daresay you are feeling peckish. Dinner will soon be served, and I shall see that you are offered the choicest cuts. By the bye, I am surprised to hear that you are sailing in search of the King. But though he cannot fail to admit that we are within our rights, the novelty of the voyage will keep you from brooding, and if you have trouble in finding a suitable vessel, please come to me—I shall perhaps be able to supply one.”

  Clytoneus gave Antinous’s hand no answering grip, but snatched his own away. “If you think,” he said doggedly, “that I have the least intention of eating and drinking in your company, which would be to connive at shameless thefts from my father, you are much mistaken. The Council have by no means spoken the final word, and well you know it. Moreover, when I reach Sandy Pylus, you may be sure that what I tell the King will not redound to your credit; and should I find difficulty in securing a ship, you are the very last man to whom I would apply for either help or advice.”

  “If you want a quarrel,” said Antinous, “I shall be pleased to oblige you. By rejecting my hand you have not improved your chances of a long life.”

  The other suitors began taunting Clytoneus. Ctesippus shouted: “He talks boldly enough of sailing to Sandy Pylus, but somehow I think that he has a different voyage in mind. Perhaps his destination is Corinth, where Queen Medea left her famous drug cabinet; he plans to bring back a little bladder full of deadly poison and squeeze its contents into the mixing bowl when we are too sodden to notice.”

  Leiocritus chimed in. “You are right, by Hermes! But what a pity it would be if, like Laodamas, Clytoneus never returned! Then we should have to send off the youngest brat in quest of him, leaving only women to run this Palace. And if he fell overboard, that would oblige us to carve up the property and throw dice for the various lots. I have my eye on the orchard as serving a double purpose: fruit store and sporting house. By Hercules, Prince, those fillies of yours are fine leapers! Did you break them in yourself?”

  Leiocritus’s jokes confirmed my fears that an attempt would be made to kill our father on his return, and to wipe out our whole male line.

  Clytoneus entered the house without answering and took Eurycleia aside. “Nurse,” he said, “I need twelve jars of wine, not the best, but the next best; and twelve stout leather bags of bruised barley meal—twenty measures in each. At Lord Mentor’s suggestion I am off to recall my father from Sandy Pylus. And understand: you must breathe no word about this to anyone, even my mother, until I am clear of the harbour.”

  Eurycleia burst into tears. “My dearest child, you also?” she blubbered. “Are you leaving us utterly defenceless? What is to prevent these shameless young lords from murdering us in our beds and sacking the Palace?”

  “My uncle Mentor will be here to protect you. He is a councillor and the Queen’s brother, and while he rules the household, who would dare to harm you? The estate may suffer, perhaps, but my g
randfather can keep an eye on it, and the labourers are loyal. So are all the chief herdsmen, except Melantheus.”

  “Ah, that wretch Melantheus!” she cried. “This morning I had to take him by the scruff of his neck and kick him from the storeroom. He came wandering in as if he owned it! And his daughter Melantho—there’s a harlot for you! The worst of it is that her example has already corrupted several of the other girls. Yesterday they were drinking in the cloisters: holding the men’s hands, kissing and pressing feet underneath the table. I watched them through the window. After a while they slipped out by the side door into the garden and began rabitting with the suitors in the rank grass. Upon my word, a nice way for young noblemen to behave when they are supposed to be courting your sister: to debauch her maids! And who will rear the bastards they breed? The world seems to be tumbling about our ears! I told the Queen of the rabitting, and her only comment was: ‘Poor girls, they have chosen a brief pleasure. Aphrodite is a powerful Goddess, and who can withstand her? Those girls are no longer children: they know that they are doing wrong. Now it is too late. A broken maidenhead cannot be patched.’ Oh, my child, you are very unwise not to tell you mother where you are going.”

  “I promised my uncle to tell nobody, even her.”

  At this point I walked in, having been listening behind the door. “Clytoneus,” I said, “play fair, and so shall I. Since neither of us can cope with these troubles alone, each must take the other into his confidence. Sweet Eurycleia, leave us alone together—I should not like you to hear secrets which you will burst your heart in trying to conceal.”

  Eurycleia went out, sniffling, and I pressed Clytoneus: “Brother, are you really off to Sandy Pylus, as the rumour goes? If so, that would be very stupid. But if you are sailing somewhere else, I must be told: when hand washes hand, both come clean.”

 

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