The Odyssey — GradeWise Library

Book 23: The Great Rooted Bed

Penelope tests Odysseus

English translation:
Ancient Greek
γρηῢς δʼ εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀνεβήσετο καγχαλόωσα,
δεσποίνῃ ἐρέουσα φίλον πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα·
γούνατα δʼ ἐρρώσαντο, πόδες δʼ ὑπερικταίνοντο.
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
ἔγρεο, Πηνελόπεια, φίλον τέκος, ὄφρα ἴδηαι
ὀφθαλμοῖσι τεοῖσι τά τʼ ἔλδεαι ἤματα πάντα.
ἦλθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὀψέ περ ἐλθών.
μνηστῆρας δʼ ἔκτεινεν ἀγήνορας, οἵ θʼ ἑὸν οἶκον
κήδεσκον καὶ κτήματʼ ἔδον βιόωντό τε παῖδα.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
μαῖα φίλη, μάργην σε θεοὶ θέσαν, οἵ τε δύνανται
ἄφρονα ποιῆσαι καὶ ἐπίφρονά περ μάλʼ ἐόντα,
καί τε χαλιφρονέοντα σαοφροσύνης ἐπέβησαν·
οἵ σέ περ ἔβλαψαν· πρὶν δὲ φρένας αἰσίμη ἦσθα.
τίπτε με λωβεύεις πολυπενθέα θυμὸν ἔχουσαν
ταῦτα παρὲξ ἐρέουσα καὶ ἐξ ὕπνου μʼ ἀνεγείρεις
ἡδέος, ὅς μʼ ἐπέδησε φίλα βλέφαρʼ ἀμφικαλύψας;
οὐ γάρ πω τοιόνδε κατέδραθον, ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ᾤχετʼ ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν κατάβηθι καὶ ἂψ ἔρχευ μέγαρόνδε.
εἰ γάρ τίς μʼ ἄλλη γε γυναικῶν, αἵ μοι ἔασι,
ταῦτʼ ἐλθοῦσʼ ἤγγειλε καὶ ἐξ ὕπνου ἀνέγειρεν,
τῷ κε τάχα στυγερῶς μιν ἐγὼν ἀπέπεμψα νέεσθαι
αὖτις ἔσω μέγαρον· σὲ δὲ τοῦτό γε γῆρας ὀνήσει.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
οὔ τί σε λωβεύω, τέκνον φίλον, ἀλλʼ ἔτυμόν τοι
ἦλθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὡς ἀγορεύω,
ὁ ξεῖνος, τὸν πάντες ἀτίμων ἐν μεγάροισι.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἄρα μιν πάλαι ᾔδεεν ἔνδον ἐόντα,
ἀλλὰ σαοφροσύνῃσι νοήματα πατρὸς ἔκευθεν,
ὄφρʼ ἀνδρῶν τίσαιτο βίην ὑπερηνορεόντων.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡ δʼ ἐχάρη καὶ ἀπὸ λέκτροιο θοροῦσα
γρηῒ περιπλέχθη, βλεφάρων δʼ ἀπὸ δάκρυον ἧκεν·
καί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
εἰ δʼ ἄγε δή μοι, μαῖα φίλη, νημερτὲς
ἐνίσπες,
εἰ ἐτεὸν δὴ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,
ὅππως δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφῆκε
μοῦνος ἐών, οἱ δʼ αἰὲν ἀολλέες ἔνδον ἔμιμνον.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
οὐκ ἴδον, οὐ πυθόμην, ἀλλὰ στόνον οἶον ἄκουσα
κτεινομένων· ἡμεῖς δὲ μυχῷ θαλάμων εὐπήκτων
ἥμεθʼ ἀτυζόμεναι, σανίδες δʼ ἔχον εὖ ἀραρυῖαι,
πρίν γʼ ὅτε δή με σὸς υἱὸς ἀπὸ μεγάροιο κάλεσσε
Τηλέμαχος· τὸν γάρ ῥα πατὴρ προέηκε καλέσσαι.
εὗρον ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ κταμένοισι νέκυσσιν
ἑσταόθʼ· οἱ δέ μιν ἀμφί, κραταίπεδον οὖδας ἔχοντες,
κείατʼ ἐπʼ ἀλλήλοισιν· ἰδοῦσά κε θυμὸν ἰάνθης.
νῦν δʼ οἱ μὲν δὴ πάντες ἐπʼ αὐλείῃσι θύρῃσιν
ἀθρόοι, αὐτὰρ ὁ δῶμα θεειοῦται περικαλλές,
πῦρ μέγα κηάμενος· σὲ δέ με προέηκε καλέσσαι.
ἀλλʼ ἕπευ, ὄφρα σφῶϊν ἐϋφροσύνης ἐπιβῆτον
ἀμφοτέρω φίλον ἦτορ, ἐπεὶ κακὰ πολλὰ πέποσθε.
νῦν δʼ ἤδη τόδε μακρὸν ἐέλδωρ ἐκτετέλεσται·
ἦλθε μὲν αὐτὸς ζωὸς ἐφέστιος, εὗρε δὲ καὶ σὲ
καὶ παῖδʼ ἐν μεγάροισι· κακῶς δʼ οἵ πέρ μιν ἔρεζον
μνηστῆρες, τοὺς πάντας ἐτίσατο ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
μαῖα φίλη, μή πω μέγʼ ἐπεύχεο καγχαλόωσα.
οἶσθα γὰρ ὥς κʼ ἀσπαστὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισι φανείη
πᾶσι, μάλιστα δʼ ἐμοί τε καὶ υἱέϊ, τὸν τεκόμεσθα·
ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἔσθʼ ὅδε μῦθος ἐτήτυμος, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,
ἀλλά τις ἀθανάτων κτεῖνε μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,
ὕβριν ἀγασσάμενος θυμαλγέα καὶ κακὰ ἔργα.
οὔ τινα γὰρ τίεσκον ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων,
οὐ κακὸν οὐδὲ μὲν ἐσθλόν, ὅτις σφέας εἰσαφίκοιτο·
τῷ διʼ ἀτασθαλίας ἔπαθον κακόν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὤλεσε τηλοῦ νόστον Ἀχαιΐδος, ὤλετο δʼ αὐτός.
τὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
τέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων,
ἣ πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα παρʼ ἐσχάρῃ οὔ ποτʼ ἔφησθα
οἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· θυμὸς δέ τοι αἰὲν ἄπιστος.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε τοι καὶ σῆμα ἀριφραδὲς ἄλλο τι εἴπω,
οὐλήν, τήν ποτέ μιν σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι.
τὴν ἀπονίζουσα φρασάμην, ἔθελον δὲ σοὶ αὐτῇ
εἰπέμεν· ἀλλά με κεῖνος ἑλὼν ἐπὶ μάστακα χερσὶν
οὐκ ἔα εἰπέμεναι πολυϊδρείῃσι νόοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἕπευ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐμέθεν περιδώσομαι αὐτῆς,
αἴ κέν σʼ ἐξαπάφω, κτεῖναί μʼ οἰκτίστῳ ὀλέθρῳ.
τὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
μαῖα φίλη, χαλεπόν σε θεῶν αἰειγενετάων
δήνεα εἴρυσθαι, μὰλα περ πολύϊδριν ἐοῦσαν.
ἀλλʼ ἔμπης ἴομεν μετὰ παῖδʼ ἐμόν, ὄφρα ἴδωμαι
ἄνδρας μνηστῆρας τεθνηότας, ἠδʼ ὃς ἔπεφνεν.
ὣς φαμένη κατέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα· πολλὰ δέ οἱ κῆρ
ὥρμαινʼ, ἢ ἀπάνευθε φίλον πόσιν ἐξερεείνοι,
ἦ παρστᾶσα κύσειε κάρη καὶ χεῖρε λαβοῦσα.
ἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ εἰσῆλθεν καὶ ὑπέρβη λάϊνον οὐδόν,
ἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐναντίη, ἐν πυρὸς αὐγῇ,
τοίχου τοῦ ἑτέρου· ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρὸς κίονα μακρὴν
ἧστο κάτω ὁρόων, ποτιδέγμενος εἴ τί μιν εἴποι
ἰφθίμη παράκοιτις, ἐπεὶ ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν.
ἡ δʼ ἄνεω δὴν ἧστο, τάφος δέ οἱ ἦτορ ἵκανεν·
ὄψει δʼ ἄλλοτε μέν μιν ἐνωπαδίως ἐσίδεσκεν,
ἄλλοτε δʼ ἀγνώσασκε κακὰ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
μῆτερ ἐμή, δύσμητερ, ἀπηνέα θυμὸν ἔχουσα,
τίφθʼ οὕτω πατρὸς νοσφίζεαι, οὐδὲ παρʼ αὐτὸν
ἑζομένη μύθοισιν ἀνείρεαι οὐδὲ μεταλλᾷς;
οὐ μέν κʼ ἄλλη γʼ ὧδε γυνὴ τετληότι θυμῷ
ἀνδρὸς ἀφεσταίη, ὅς οἱ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας
ἔλθοι ἐεικοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·
σοὶ δʼ αἰεὶ κραδίη στερεωτέρη ἐστὶ λίθοιο.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
τέκνον ἐμόν, θυμός μοι ἐνὶ στήθεσσι τέθηπεν,
οὐδέ τι προσφάσθαι δύναμαι ἔπος οὐδʼ ἐρέεσθαι
οὐδʼ εἰς ὦπα ἰδέσθαι ἐναντίον. εἰ δʼ ἐτεὸν δὴ
ἔστʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ἦ μάλα νῶϊ
γνωσόμεθʼ ἀλλήλων καὶ λώϊον· ἔστι γὰρ ἡμῖν
σήμαθʼ, ἃ δὴ καὶ νῶϊ κεκρυμμένα ἴδμεν ἀπʼ ἄλλων.
ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
αἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι μητέρʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔασον
πειράζειν ἐμέθεν· τάχα δὲ φράσεται καὶ ἄρειον.
νῦν δʼ ὅττι ῥυπόω, κακὰ δὲ χροῒ εἵματα εἷμαι,
τοὔνεκʼ ἀτιμάζει με καὶ οὔ πω φησὶ τὸν εἶναι.
ἡμεῖς δὲ φραζώμεθʼ ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένηται.
καὶ γάρ τίς θʼ ἕνα φῶτα κατακτείνας ἐνὶ δήμῳ,
ᾧ μὴ πολλοὶ ἔωσιν ἀοσσητῆρες ὀπίσσω,
φεύγει πηούς τε προλιπὼν καὶ πατρίδα γαῖαν·
ἡμεῖς δʼ ἕρμα πόληος ἀπέκταμεν, οἳ μέγʼ ἄριστοι
κούρων εἰν Ἰθάκῃ· τὰ δέ σε φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
αὐτὸς ταῦτά γε λεῦσσε, πάτερ φίλε· σὴν γὰρ ἀρίστην
μῆτιν ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους φάσʼ ἔμμεναι, οὐδέ κέ τίς τοι
ἄλλος ἀνὴρ ἐρίσειε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων.
ἡμεῖς δʼ ἐμμεμαῶτες ἅμʼ ἑψόμεθʼ, οὐδέ τί φημι
ἀλκῆς δευήσεσθαι, ὅση δύναμίς γε πάρεστιν.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
τοιγὰρ ἐγὼν ἐρέω ὥς μοι δοκεῖ εἶναι ἄριστα.
πρῶτα μὲν ἂρ λούσασθε καὶ ἀμφιέσασθε χιτῶνας,
δμῳὰς δʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀνώγετε εἵμαθʼ ἑλέσθαι·
αὐτὰρ θεῖος ἀοιδὸς ἔχων φόρμιγγα λίγειαν
ἡμῖν ἡγείσθω φιλοπαίγμονος ὀρχηθμοῖο,
ὥς κέν τις φαίη γάμον ἔμμεναι ἐκτὸς ἀκούων,
ἢ ἀνʼ ὁδὸν στείχων, ἢ οἳ περιναιετάουσι·
μὴ πρόσθε κλέος εὐρὺ φόνου κατὰ ἄστυ γένηται
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, πρίν γʼ ἡμέας ἐλθέμεν ἔξω
ἀγρὸν ἐς ἡμέτερον πολυδένδρεον· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα
φρασσόμεθʼ ὅττι κε κέρδος Ὀλύμπιος ἐγγυαλίξῃ.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ
ἐπίθοντο
πρῶτα μὲν οὖν λούσαντο καὶ ἀμφιέσαντο χιτῶνας,
ὅπλισθεν δὲ γυναῖκες· ὁ δʼ εἵλετο θεῖος ἀοιδὸς
φόρμιγγα γλαφυρήν, ἐν δέ σφισιν ἵμερον ὦρσε
μολπῆς τε γλυκερῆς καὶ ἀμύμονος ὀρχηθμοῖο.
τοῖσιν δὲ μέγα δῶμα περιστεναχίζετο ποσσὶν
ἀνδρῶν παιζόντων καλλιζώνων τε γυναικῶν.
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε δόμων ἔκτοσθεν ἀκούων·
ἦ μάλα δή τις ἔγημε πολυμνήστην βασίλειαν·
σχετλίη, οὐδʼ ἔτλη πόσιος οὗ κουριδίοιο
εἴρυσθαι μέγα δῶμα διαμπερές, ἧος ἵκοιτο.
ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε, τὰ δʼ οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.
αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆα μεγαλήτορα ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
Εὐρυνόμη ταμίη λοῦσεν καὶ χρῖσεν ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν φᾶρος καλὸν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα·
αὐτὰρ κὰκ κεφαλῆς κάλλος πολὺ χεῦεν Ἀθήνη
μείζονά τʼ εἰσιδέειν καὶ πάσσονα· κὰδ δὲ κάρητος
οὔλας ἧκε κόμας, ὑακινθίνῳ ἄνθει ὁμοίας.
ὡς δʼ ὅτε τις χρυσὸν περιχεύεται ἀργύρῳ ἀνὴρ
ἴδρις, ὃν Ἥφαιστος δέδαεν καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
τέχνην παντοίην, χαρίεντα δὲ ἔργα τελείει·
ὣς μὲν τῷ περίχευε χάριν κεφαλῇ τε καὶ ὤμοις.
ἐκ δʼ ἀσαμίνθου βῆ δέμας ἀθανάτοισιν ὁμοῖος·
ἂψ δʼ αὖτις κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη,
ἀντίον ἧς ἀλόχου, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
δαιμονίη, περί σοί γε γυναικῶν θηλυτεράων
κῆρ ἀτέραμνον ἔθηκαν Ὀλύμπια δώματʼ ἔχοντες·
οὐ μέν κʼ ἄλλη γʼ ὧδε γυνὴ τετληότι θυμῷ
ἀνδρὸς ἀφεσταίη, ὅς οἱ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας
ἔλθοι ἐεικοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι, μαῖα, στόρεσον λέχος, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτὸς
λέξομαι· ἦ γὰρ τῇ γε σιδήρεον ἐν φρεσὶ ἦτορ.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
δαιμόνιʼ, οὔτʼ ἄρ τι μεγαλίζομαι οὔτʼ ἀθερίζω
οὔτε λίην ἄγαμαι, μάλα δʼ εὖ οἶδʼ οἷος ἔησθα
ἐξ Ἰθάκης ἐπὶ νηὸς ἰὼν δολιχηρέτμοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ στόρεσον πυκινὸν λέχος, Εὐρύκλεια,
ἐκτὸς ἐϋσταθέος θαλάμου, τόν ῥʼ αὐτὸς ἐποίει·
ἔνθα οἱ ἐκθεῖσαι πυκινὸν λέχος ἐμβάλετʼ εὐνήν,
κώεα καὶ χλαίνας καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη πόσιος πειρωμένη· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὀχθήσας ἄλοχον προσεφώνεε κεδνὰ ἰδυῖαν·
ὦ γύναι, ἦ μάλα τοῦτο ἔπος θυμαλγὲς ἔειπες·
τίς δέ μοι ἄλλοσε θῆκε λέχος; χαλεπὸν δέ κεν εἴη
καὶ μάλʼ ἐπισταμένῳ, ὅτε μὴ θεὸς αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν
ῥηϊδίως ἐθέλων θείη ἄλλῃ ἐνὶ χώρῃ.
ἀνδρῶν δʼ οὔ κέν τις ζωὸς βροτός, οὐδὲ μάλʼ ἡβῶν,
ῥεῖα μετοχλίσσειεν, ἐπεὶ μέγα σῆμα τέτυκται
ἐν λέχει ἀσκητῷ· τὸ δʼ ἐγὼ κάμον οὐδέ τις ἄλλος.
θάμνος ἔφυ τανύφυλλος ἐλαίης ἕρκεος ἐντός,
ἀκμηνὸς θαλέθων· πάχετος δʼ ἦν ἠΰτε κίων.
τῷ δʼ ἐγὼ ἀμφιβαλὼν θάλαμον δέμον, ὄφρʼ ἐτέλεσσα,
πυκνῇσιν λιθάδεσσι, καὶ εὖ καθύπερθεν ἔρεψα,
κολλητὰς δʼ ἐπέθηκα θύρας, πυκινῶς ἀραρυίας.
καὶ τότʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπέκοψα κόμην τανυφύλλου ἐλαίης,
κορμὸν δʼ ἐκ ῥίζης προταμὼν ἀμφέξεσα χαλκῷ
εὖ καὶ ἐπισταμένως, καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνα,
ἑρμῖνʼ ἀσκήσας, τέτρηνα δὲ πάντα τερέτρῳ.
ἐκ δὲ τοῦ ἀρχόμενος λέχος ἔξεον, ὄφρʼ ἐτέλεσσα,
δαιδάλλων χρυσῷ τε καὶ ἀργύρῳ ἠδʼ ἐλέφαντι·
ἐκ δʼ ἐτάνυσσα ἱμάντα βοὸς φοίνικι φαεινόν.
οὕτω τοι τόδε σῆμα πιφαύσκομαι· οὐδέ τι οἶδα,
ἤ μοι ἔτʼ ἔμπεδόν ἐστι, γύναι, λέχος, ἦέ τις ἤδη
ἀνδρῶν ἄλλοσε θῆκε, ταμὼν ὕπο πυθμένʼ ἐλαίης.
ὣς φάτο, τῆς δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον
ἦτορ,
σήματʼ ἀναγνούσῃ τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς·
δακρύσασα δʼ ἔπειτʼ ἰθὺς δράμεν, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας
δειρῇ βάλλʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ, κάρη δʼ ἔκυσʼ ἠδὲ προσηύδα·
μή μοι, Ὀδυσσεῦ, σκύζευ, ἐπεὶ τά περ ἄλλα
μάλιστα
ἀνθρώπων πέπνυσο· θεοὶ δʼ ὤπαζον ὀϊζύν,
οἳ νῶϊν ἀγάσαντο παρʼ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντε
ἥβης ταρπῆναι καὶ γήραος οὐδὸν ἱκέσθαι.
αὐτὰρ μὴ νῦν μοι τόδε χώεο μηδὲ νεμέσσα,
οὕνεκά σʼ οὐ τὸ πρῶτον, ἐπεὶ ἴδον, ὧδʼ ἀγάπησα.
αἰεὶ γάρ μοι θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισιν
ἐρρίγει μή τίς με βροτῶν ἀπάφοιτο ἔπεσσιν
ἐλθών· πολλοὶ γὰρ κακὰ κέρδεα βουλεύουσιν.
οὐδέ κεν Ἀργείη Ἑλένη, Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα,
ἀνδρὶ παρʼ ἀλλοδαπῷ ἐμίγη φιλότητι καὶ εὐνῇ,
εἰ ᾔδη ὅ μιν αὖτις ἀρήϊοι υἷες Ἀχαιῶν
ἀξέμεναι οἶκόνδε φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔμελλον.
τὴν δʼ ἦ τοι ῥέξαι θεὸς ὤρορεν ἔργον ἀεικές·
τὴν δʼ ἄτην οὐ πρόσθεν ἑῷ ἐγκάτθετο θυμῷ
λυγρήν, ἐξ ἧς πρῶτα καὶ ἡμέας ἵκετο πένθος.
νῦν δʼ, ἐπεὶ ἤδη σήματʼ ἀριφραδέα κατέλεξας
εὐνῆς ἡμετέρης, ἣν οὐ βροτὸς ἄλλος ὀπώπει,
ἀλλʼ οἶοι σύ τʼ ἐγώ τε καὶ ἀμφίπολος μία μούνη,
Ἀκτορίς, ἥν μοι δῶκε πατὴρ ἔτι δεῦρο κιούσῃ,
ἣ νῶϊν εἴρυτο θύρας πυκινοῦ θαλάμοιο,
πείθεις δή μευ θυμόν, ἀπηνέα περ μάλʼ ἐόντα.
ὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε
γόοιο·
κλαῖε δʼ ἔχων ἄλοχον θυμαρέα, κεδνὰ ἰδυῖαν.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἀσπάσιος γῆ νηχομένοισι φανήῃ,
ὧν τε Ποσειδάων εὐεργέα νῆʼ ἐνὶ πόντῳ
ῥαίσῃ, ἐπειγομένην ἀνέμῳ καὶ κύματι πηγῷ·
παῦροι δʼ ἐξέφυγον πολιῆς ἁλὸς ἤπειρόνδε
νηχόμενοι, πολλὴ δὲ περὶ χροῒ τέτροφεν ἅλμη,
ἀσπάσιοι δʼ ἐπέβαν γαίης, κακότητα φυγόντες·
ὣς ἄρα τῇ ἀσπαστὸς ἔην πόσις εἰσοροώσῃ,
δειρῆς δʼ οὔ πω πάμπαν ἀφίετο πήχεε λευκώ.
καί νύ κʼ ὀδυρομένοισι φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
εἰ μὴ ἄρʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
νύκτα μὲν ἐν περάτῃ δολιχὴν σχέθεν, Ἠῶ δʼ αὖτε
ῥύσατʼ ἐπʼ Ὠκεανῷ χρυσόθρονον, οὐδʼ ἔα ἵππους
ζεύγνυσθʼ ὠκύποδας, φάος ἀνθρώποισι φέροντας,
Λάμπον καὶ Φαέθονθʼ, οἵ τʼ Ἠῶ πῶλοι ἄγουσι.
καὶ τότʼ ἄρʼ ἣν ἄλοχον προσέφη πολύμητις
Ὀδυσσεύς
ὦ γύναι, οὐ γάρ πω πάντων ἐπὶ πείρατʼ ἀέθλων
ἤλθομεν, ἀλλʼ ἔτʼ ὄπισθεν ἀμέτρητος πόνος ἔσται,
πολλὸς καὶ χαλεπός, τὸν ἐμὲ χρὴ πάντα τελέσσαι.
ὣς γάρ μοι ψυχὴ μαντεύσατο Τειρεσίαο
ἤματι τῷ ὅτε δὴ κατέβην δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω,
νόστον ἑταίροισιν διζήμενος ἠδʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ.
ἀλλʼ ἔρχευ, λέκτρονδʼ ἴομεν, γύναι, ὄφρα καὶ ἤδη
ὕπνῳ ὕπο γλυκερῷ ταρπώμεθα κοιμηθέντε.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
εὐνὴ μὲν δή σοί γε τότʼ ἔσσεται ὁππότε θυμῷ
σῷ ἐθέλῃς, ἐπεὶ ἄρ σε θεοὶ ποίησαν ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐϋκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·
ἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ ἐφράσθης καί τοι θεὸς ἔμβαλε θυμῷ,
εἴπʼ ἄγε μοι τὸν ἄεθλον, ἐπεὶ καὶ ὄπισθεν, ὀΐω,
πεύσομαι, αὐτίκα δʼ ἐστὶ δαήμεναι οὔ τι χέρειον.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις
Ὀδυσσεύς·
δαιμονίη, τί τʼ ἄρʼ αὖ με μάλʼ ὀτρύνουσα κελεύεις
εἰπέμεν; αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω.
οὐ μέν τοι θυμὸς κεχαρήσεται· οὐδὲ γὰρ αὐτὸς
χαίρω, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστεʼ ἄνωγεν
ἐλθεῖν, ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔχοντʼ εὐῆρες ἐρετμόν,
εἰς ὅ κε τοὺς ἀφίκωμαι οἳ οὐκ ἴσασι θάλασσαν
ἀνέρες, οὐδέ θʼ ἅλεσσι μεμιγμένον εἶδαρ ἔδουσιν·
οὐδʼ ἄρα τοί γʼ ἴσασι νέας φοινικοπαρῄους,
οὐδʼ εὐήρεʼ ἐρετμά, τά τε πτερὰ νηυσὶ πέλονται.
σῆμα δέ μοι τόδʼ ἔειπεν ἀριφραδές, οὐδέ σε κεύσω·
ὁππότε κεν δή μοι ξυμβλήμενος ἄλλος ὁδίτης
φήῃ ἀθηρηλοιγὸν ἔχειν ἀνὰ φαιδίμῳ ὤμῳ,
καὶ τότε μʼ ἐν γαίῃ πήξαντʼ ἐκέλευεν ἐρετμόν,
ἔρξανθʼ ἱερὰ καλὰ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι,
ἀρνειὸν ταῦρόν τε συῶν τʼ ἐπιβήτορα κάπρον,
οἴκαδʼ ἀποστείχειν, ἔρδειν θʼ ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας
ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι,
πᾶσι μάλʼ ἑξείης· θάνατος δέ μοι ἐξ ἁλὸς αὐτῷ
ἀβληχρὸς μάλα τοῖος ἐλεύσεται, ὅς κέ με πέφνῃ
γήρα’ ὕπο λιπαρῷ ἀρημένον· ἀμφὶ δὲ λαοὶ
ὄλβιοι ἔσσονται· τὰ δέ μοι φάτο πάντα τελεῖσθαι.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
εἰ μὲν δὴ γῆράς γε θεοὶ τελέουσιν ἄρειον,
ἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα κακῶν ὑπάλυξιν ἔσεσθαι.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·
τόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ Εὐρυνόμη τε ἰδὲ τροφὸς ἔντυον εὐνὴν
ἐσθῆτος μαλακῆς, δαΐδων ὕπο λαμπομενάων.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ στόρεσαν πυκινὸν λέχος ἐγκονέουσαι,
γρηῢς μὲν κείουσα πάλιν οἶκόνδε βεβήκει,
τοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρυνόμη θαλαμηπόλος ἡγεμόνευεν
ἐρχομένοισι λέχοσδε, δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσα·
ἐς θάλαμον δʼ ἀγαγοῦσα πάλιν κίεν. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἀσπάσιοι λέκτροιο παλαιοῦ θεσμὸν ἵκοντο·
αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος καὶ βουκόλος ἠδὲ συβώτης
παῦσαν ἄρʼ ὀρχηθμοῖο πόδας, παῦσαν δὲ γυναῖκας,
αὐτοὶ δʼ εὐνάζοντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.
τὼ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν φιλότητος ἐταρπήτην ἐρατεινῆς,
τερπέσθην μύθοισι, πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐνέποντε,
ἡ μὲν ὅσʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀνέσχετο δῖα γυναικῶν,
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων ἐσορῶσʼ ἀΐδηλον ὅμιλον,
οἳ ἕθεν εἵνεκα πολλά, βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,
ἔσφαζον, πολλὸς δὲ πίθων ἠφύσσετο οἶνος·
αὐτὰρ ὁ διογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς ὅσα κήδεʼ ἔθηκεν
ἀνθρώποις ὅσα τʼ αὐτὸς ὀϊζύσας ἐμόγησε,
πάντʼ ἔλεγʼ· ἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐτέρπετʼ ἀκούουσʼ, οὐδέ οἱ ὕπνος
πῖπτεν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι πάρος καταλέξαι ἅπαντα.
ἤρξατο δʼ ὡς πρῶτον Κίκονας δάμασʼ, αὐτὰρ
ἔπειτα
ἦλθʼ ἐς Λωτοφάγων ἀνδρῶν πίειραν ἄρουραν·
ἠδʼ ὅσα Κύκλωψ ἔρξε, καὶ ὡς ἀπετίσατο ποινὴν
ἰφθίμων ἑτάρων, οὓς ἤσθιεν οὐδʼ ἐλέαιρεν·
ἠδʼ ὡς Αἴολον ἵκεθʼ, ὅ μιν πρόφρων ὑπέδεκτο
καὶ πέμπʼ, οὐδέ πω αἶσα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἱκέσθαι
ἤην, ἀλλά μιν αὖτις ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα
πόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα φέρεν βαρέα στενάχοντα·
ἠδʼ ὡς Τηλέπυλον Λαιστρυγονίην ἀφίκανεν,
οἳ νῆάς τʼ ὄλεσαν καὶ ἐϋκνήμιδας ἑταίρους
πάντας· Ὀδυσσεὺς δʼ οἶος ὑπέκφυγε νηῒ μελαίνῃ·
καὶ Κίρκης κατέλεξε δόλον πολυμηχανίην τε,
ἠδʼ ὡς εἰς Ἀΐδεω δόμον ἤλυθεν εὐρώεντα,
ψυχῇ χρησόμενος Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο,
νηῒ πολυκλήϊδι, καὶ εἴσιδε πάντας ἑταίρους
μητέρα θʼ, ἥ μιν ἔτικτε καὶ ἔτρεφε τυτθὸν ἐόντα·
ἠδʼ ὡς Σειρήνων ἁδινάων φθόγγον ἄκουσεν,
ὥς θʼ ἵκετο Πλαγκτὰς πέτρας δεινήν τε Χάρυβδιν
Σκύλλην θʼ, ἣν οὔ πώ ποτʼ ἀκήριοι ἄνδρες ἄλυξαν·
ἠδʼ ὡς Ἠελίοιο βόας κατέπεφνον ἑταῖροι·
ἠδʼ ὡς νῆα θοὴν ἔβαλε ψολόεντι κεραυνῷ
Ζεὺς ὑψιβρεμέτης, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔφθιθεν ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι
πάντες ὁμῶς, αὐτὸς δὲ κακὰς ὑπὸ κῆρας ἄλυξεν·
ὥς θʼ ἵκετʼ Ὠγυγίην νῆσον νύμφην τε Καλυψώ,
ἣ δή μιν κατέρυκε, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι,
ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, καὶ ἔτρεφεν ἠδὲ ἔφασκε
θήσειν ἀθάνατον καὶ ἀγήραον ἤματα πάντα·
ἀλλὰ τοῦ οὔ ποτε θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔπειθεν·
ἠδʼ ὡς ἐς Φαίηκας ἀφίκετο πολλὰ μογήσας,
οἳ δή μιν περὶ κῆρι θεὸν ὣς τιμήσαντο
καὶ πέμψαν σὺν νηῒ φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά τε δόντες.
τοῦτʼ ἄρα δεύτατον εἶπεν ἔπος, ὅτε οἱ γλυκὺς ὕπνος
λυσιμελὴς ἐπόρουσε, λύων μελεδήματα θυμοῦ.
ἡ δʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
ὁππότε δή ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐέλπετο ὃν κατὰ θυμὸν
εὐνῆς ἧς ἀλόχου ταρπήμεναι ἠδὲ καὶ ὕπνου,
αὐτίκʼ ἀπʼ Ὠκεανοῦ χρυσόθρονον ἠριγένειαν
ὦρσεν, ἵνʼ ἀνθρώποισι φόως φέροι· ὦρτο δʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
εὐνῆς ἐκ μαλακῆς, ἀλόχῳ δʼ ἐπὶ μῦθον ἔτελλεν·
ὦ γύναι, ἤδη μὲν πολέων κεκορήμεθʼ ἀέθλων
ἀμφοτέρω, σὺ μὲν ἐνθάδʼ ἐμὸν πολυκηδέα νόστον
κλαίουσʼ. αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ Ζεὺς ἄλγεσι καὶ θεοὶ ἄλλοι
ἱέμενον πεδάασκον ἐμῆς ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης·
νῦν δʼ ἐπεὶ ἀμφοτέρω πολυήρατον ἱκόμεθʼ εὐνήν,
κτήματα μὲν τά μοι ἔστι, κομιζέμεν ἐν μεγάροισι,
μῆλα δʼ ἅ μοι μνηστῆρες ὑπερφίαλοι κατέκειραν,
πολλὰ μὲν αὐτὸς ἐγὼ ληΐσσομαι, ἄλλα δʼ Ἀχαιοὶ
δώσουσʼ, εἰς ὅ κε πάντας ἐνιπλήσωσιν ἐπαύλους.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ πολυδένδρεον ἀγρὸν ἔπειμι,
ὀψόμενος πατέρʼ ἐσθλόν, ὅ μοι πυκινῶς ἀκάχηται·
σοὶ δέ, γύναι, τάδʼ ἐπιτέλλω, πινυτῇ περ ἐούσῃ·
αὐτίκα γὰρ φάτις εἶσιν ἅμʼ ἠελίῳ ἀνιόντι
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οὓς ἔκτανον ἐν μεγάροισιν·
εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν
ἧσθαι, μηδέ τινα προτιόσσεο μηδʼ ἐρέεινε.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἐδύσετο τεύχεα καλά,
ὦρσε δὲ Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην,
πάντας δʼ ἔντεʼ ἄνωγεν ἀρήϊα χερσὶν ἑλέσθαι.
οἱ δέ οἱ οὐκ ἀπίθησαν, ἐθωρήσσοντο δὲ χαλκῷ,
ὤϊξαν δὲ θύρας, ἐκ δʼ ἤϊον· ἦρχε δʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.
ἤδη μὲν φάος ἦεν ἐπὶ χθόνα, τοὺς δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀθήνη
νυκτὶ κατακρύψασα θοῶς ἐξῆγε πόληος.
English (Butler)

PENELOPE EVENTUALLY RECOGNISES HER HUSBAND—EARLY IN THE MORNING ULYSSES, TELEMACHUS, EUMAEUS, AND PHILOETIUS LEAVE THE TOWN.

Euryclea now went upstairs laughing to tell her mistress that her dear husband had come home. Her aged knees became young again and her feet were nimble for joy as she went up to her mistress and bent over her head to speak to her. “Wake up Penelope, my dear child,” she exclaimed, “and see with your own eyes something that you have been wanting this long time past. Ulysses has at last indeed come home again, and has killed the suitors who were giving so much trouble in his house, eating up his estate and ill treating his son.”

“My good nurse,” answered Penelope, “you must be mad. The gods sometimes send some very sensible people out of their minds, and make foolish people become sensible. This is what they must have been doing to you; for you always used to be a reasonable person. Why should you thus mock me when I have trouble enough already—talking such nonsense, and waking me up out of a sweet sleep that had taken possession of my eyes and closed them? I have never slept so soundly from the day my poor husband went to that city with the ill-omened name. Go back again into the women’s room; if it had been any one else who had woke me up to bring me such absurd news I should have sent her away with a severe scolding. As it is your age shall protect you.”

“My dear child,” answered Euryclea, “I am not mocking you. It is quite true as I tell you that Ulysses is come home again. He was the stranger whom they all kept on treating so badly in the cloister. Telemachus knew all the time that he was come back, but kept his father’s secret that he might have his revenge on all these wicked people.”

Then Penelope sprang up from her couch, threw her arms round Euryclea, and wept for joy. “But my dear nurse,” said she, “explain this to me; if he has really come home as you say, how did he manage to overcome the wicked suitors single handed, seeing what a number of them there always were?”

“I was not there,” answered Euryclea, “and do not know; I only heard them groaning while they were being killed. We sat crouching and huddled up in a corner of the women’s room with the doors closed, till your son came to fetch me because his father sent him. Then I found Ulysses standing over the corpses that were lying on the ground all round him, one on top of the other. You would have enjoyed it if you could have seen him standing there all bespattered with blood and filth, and looking just like a lion. But the corpses are now all piled up in the gatehouse that is in the outer court, and Ulysses has lit a great fire to purify the house with sulphur. He has sent me to call you, so come with me that you may both be happy together after all; for now at last the desire of your heart has been fulfilled; your husband is come home to find both wife and son alive and well, and to take his revenge in his own house on the suitors who behaved so badly to him.”

“My dear nurse,” said Penelope, “do not exult too confidently over all this. You know how delighted every one would be to see Ulysses come home—more particularly myself, and the son who has been born to both of us; but what you tell me cannot be really true. It is some god who is angry with the suitors for their great wickedness, and has made an end of them; for they respected no man in the whole world, neither rich nor poor, who came near them, and they have come to a bad end in consequence of their iniquity; Ulysses is dead far away from the Achaean land; he will never return home again.”

Then nurse Euryclea said, “My child, what are you talking about? but you were all hard of belief and have made up your mind that your husband is never coming, although he is in the house and by his own fire side at this very moment. Besides I can give you another proof; when I was washing him I perceived the scar which the wild boar gave him, and I wanted to tell you about it, but in his wisdom he would not let me, and clapped his hands over my mouth; so come with me and I will make this bargain with you—if I am deceiving you, you may have me killed by the most cruel death you can think of.”

“My dear nurse,” said Penelope, “however wise you may be you can hardly fathom the counsels of the gods. Nevertheless, we will go in search of my son, that I may see the corpses of the suitors, and the man who has killed them.”

On this she came down from her upper room, and while doing so she considered whether she should keep at a distance from her husband and question him, or whether she should at once go up to him and embrace him. When, however, she had crossed the stone floor of the cloister, she sat down opposite Ulysses by the fire, against the wall at right angles180 [to that by which she had entered], while Ulysses sat near one of the bearing-posts, looking upon the ground, and waiting to see what his brave wife would say to him when she saw him. For a long time she sat silent and as one lost in amazement. At one moment she looked him full in the face, but then again directly, she was misled by his shabby clothes and failed to recognise him,181 till Telemachus began to reproach her and said:

“Mother—but you are so hard that I cannot call you by such a name—why do you keep away from my father in this way? Why do you not sit by his side and begin talking to him and asking him questions? No other woman could bear to keep away from her husband when he had come back to her after twenty years of absence, and after having gone through so much; but your heart always was as hard as a stone.”

Penelope answered, “My son, I am so lost in astonishment that I can find no words in which either to ask questions or to answer them. I cannot even look him straight in the face. Still, if he really is Ulysses come back to his own home again, we shall get to understand one another better by and by, for there are tokens with which we two are alone acquainted, and which are hidden from all others.”

Ulysses smiled at this, and said to Telemachus, “Let your mother put me to any proof she likes; she will make up her mind about it presently. She rejects me for the moment and believes me to be somebody else, because I am covered with dirt and have such bad clothes on; let us, however, consider what we had better do next. When one man has killed another—even though he was not one who would leave many friends to take up his quarrel—the man who has killed him must still say good bye to his friends and fly the country; whereas we have been killing the stay of a whole town, and all the picked youth of Ithaca. I would have you consider this matter.”

“Look to it yourself, father,” answered Telemachus, “for they say you are the wisest counsellor in the world, and that there is no other mortal man who can compare with you. We will follow you with right good will, nor shall you find us fail you in so far as our strength holds out.”

“I will say what I think will be best,” answered Ulysses. “First wash and put your shirts on; tell the maids also to go to their own room and dress; Phemius shall then strike up a dance tune on his lyre, so that if people outside hear, or any of the neighbours, or some one going along the street happens to notice it, they may think there is a wedding in the house, and no rumours about the death of the suitors will get about in the town, before we can escape to the woods upon my own land. Once there, we will settle which of the courses heaven vouchsafes us shall seem wisest.”

Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said. First they washed and put their shirts on, while the women got ready. Then Phemius took his lyre and set them all longing for sweet song and stately dance. The house re-echoed with the sound of men and women dancing, and the people outside said, “I suppose the queen has been getting married at last. She ought to be ashamed of herself for not continuing to protect her husband’s property until he comes home.”182

This was what they said, but they did not know what it was that had been happening. The upper servant Eurynome washed and anointed Ulysses in his own house and gave him a shirt and cloak, while Minerva made him look taller and stronger than before; she also made the hair grow thick on the top of his head, and flow down in curls like hyacinth blossoms; she glorified him about the head and shoulders just as a skilful workman who has studied art of all kinds under Vulcan or Minerva—and his work is full of beauty—enriches a piece of silver plate by gilding it. He came from the bath looking like one of the immortals, and sat down opposite his wife on the seat he had left. “My dear,” said he, “heaven has endowed you with a heart more unyielding than woman ever yet had. No other woman could bear to keep away from her husband when he had come back to her after twenty years of absence, and after having gone through so much. But come, nurse, get a bed ready for me; I will sleep alone, for this woman has a heart as hard as iron.”

“My dear,” answered Penelope, “I have no wish to set myself up, nor to depreciate you; but I am not struck by your appearance, for I very well remember what kind of a man you were when you set sail from Ithaca. Nevertheless, Euryclea, take his bed outside the bed chamber that he himself built. Bring the bed outside this room, and put bedding upon it with fleeces, good coverlets, and blankets.”

She said this to try him, but Ulysses was very angry and said, “Wife, I am much displeased at what you have just been saying. Who has been taking my bed from the place in which I left it? He must have found it a hard task, no matter how skilled a workman he was, unless some god came and helped him to shift it. There is no man living, however strong and in his prime, who could move it from its place, for it is a marvellous curiosity which I made with my very own hands. There was a young olive growing within the precincts of the house, in full vigour, and about as thick as a bearing-post. I built my room round this with strong walls of stone and a roof to cover them, and I made the doors strong and well-fitting. Then I cut off the top boughs of the olive tree and left the stump standing. This I dressed roughly from the root upwards and then worked with carpenter’s tools well and skilfully, straightening my work by drawing a line on the wood, and making it into a bed-prop. I then bored a hole down the middle, and made it the centre-post of my bed, at which I worked till I had finished it, inlaying it with gold and silver; after this I stretched a hide of crimson leather from one side of it to the other. So you see I know all about it, and I desire to learn whether it is still there, or whether any one has been removing it by cutting down the olive tree at its roots.”

When she heard the sure proofs Ulysses now gave her, she fairly broke down. She flew weeping to his side, flung her arms about his neck, and kissed him. “Do not be angry with me Ulysses,” she cried, “you, who are the wisest of mankind. We have suffered, both of us. Heaven has denied us the happiness of spending our youth, and of growing old, together; do not then be aggrieved or take it amiss that I did not embrace you thus as soon as I saw you. I have been shuddering all the time through fear that someone might come here and deceive me with a lying story; for there are many very wicked people going about. Jove’s daughter Helen would never have yielded herself to a man from a foreign country, if she had known that the sons of Achaeans would come after her and bring her back. Heaven put it in her heart to do wrong, and she gave no thought to that sin, which has been the source of all our sorrows. Now, however, that you have convinced me by showing that you know all about our bed (which no human being has ever seen but you and I and a single maidservant, the daughter of Actor, who was given me by my father on my marriage, and who keeps the doors of our room) hard of belief though I have been I can mistrust no longer.”

Then Ulysses in his turn melted, and wept as he clasped his dear and faithful wife to his bosom. As the sight of land is welcome to men who are swimming towards the shore, when Neptune has wrecked their ship with the fury of his winds and waves; a few alone reach the land, and these, covered with brine, are thankful when they find themselves on firm ground and out of danger—even so was her husband welcome to her as she looked upon him, and she could not tear her two fair arms from about his neck. Indeed they would have gone on indulging their sorrow till rosy-fingered morn appeared, had not Minerva determined otherwise, and held night back in the far west, while she would not suffer Dawn to leave Oceanus, nor to yoke the two steeds Lampus and Phaethon that bear her onward to break the day upon mankind.

At last, however, Ulysses said, “Wife, we have not yet reached the end of our troubles. I have an unknown amount of toil still to undergo. It is long and difficult, but I must go through with it, for thus the shade of Teiresias prophesied concerning me, on the day when I went down into Hades to ask about my return and that of my companions. But now let us go to bed, that we may lie down and enjoy the blessed boon of sleep.”

“You shall go to bed as soon as you please,” replied Penelope, “now that the gods have sent you home to your own good house and to your country. But as heaven has put it in your mind to speak of it, tell me about the task that lies before you. I shall have to hear about it later, so it is better that I should be told at once.”

“My dear,” answered Ulysses, “why should you press me to tell you? Still, I will not conceal it from you, though you will not like it. I do not like it myself, for Teiresias bade me travel far and wide, carrying an oar, till I came to a country where the people have never heard of the sea, and do not even mix salt with their food. They know nothing about ships, nor oars that are as the wings of a ship. He gave me this certain token which I will not hide from you. He said that a wayfarer should meet me and ask me whether it was a winnowing shovel that I had on my shoulder. On this, I was to fix my oar in the ground and sacrifice a ram, a bull, and a boar to Neptune; after which I was to go home and offer hecatombs to all the gods in heaven, one after the other. As for myself, he said that death should come to me from the sea, and that my life should ebb away very gently when I was full of years and peace of mind, and my people should bless me. All this, he said, should surely come to pass.”

And Penelope said, “If the gods are going to vouchsafe you a happier time in your old age, you may hope then to have some respite from misfortune.”

Thus did they converse. Meanwhile Eurynome and the nurse took torches and made the bed ready with soft coverlets; as soon as they had laid them, the nurse went back into the house to go to her rest, leaving the bed chamber woman Eurynome183 to show Ulysses and Penelope to bed by torch light. When she had conducted them to their room she went back, and they then came joyfully to the rites of their own old bed. Telemachus, Philoetius, and the swineherd now left off dancing, and made the women leave off also. They then laid themselves down to sleep in the cloisters.

When Ulysses and Penelope had had their fill of love they fell talking with one another. She told him how much she had had to bear in seeing the house filled with a crowd of wicked suitors who had killed so many sheep and oxen on her account, and had drunk so many casks of wine. Ulysses in his turn told her what he had suffered, and how much trouble he had himself given to other people. He told her everything, and she was so delighted to listen that she never went to sleep till he had ended his whole story.

He began with his victory over the Cicons, and how he thence reached the fertile land of the Lotus-eaters. He told her all about the Cyclops and how he had punished him for having so ruthlessly eaten his brave comrades; how he then went on to Aeolus, who received him hospitably and furthered him on his way, but even so he was not to reach home, for to his great grief a hurricane carried him out to sea again; how he went on to the Laestrygonian city Telepylos, where the people destroyed all his ships with their crews, save himself and his own ship only. Then he told of cunning Circe and her craft, and how he sailed to the chill house of Hades, to consult the ghost of the Theban prophet Teiresias, and how he saw his old comrades in arms, and his mother who bore him and brought him up when he was a child; how he then heard the wondrous singing of the Sirens, and went on to the wandering rocks and terrible Charybdis and to Scylla, whom no man had ever yet passed in safety; how his men then ate the cattle of the sun-god, and how Jove therefore struck the ship with his thunderbolts, so that all his men perished together, himself alone being left alive; how at last he reached the Ogygian island and the nymph Calypso, who kept him there in a cave, and fed him, and wanted him to marry her, in which case she intended making him immortal so that he should never grow old, but she could not persuade him to let her do so; and how after much suffering he had found his way to the Phaeacians, who had treated him as though he had been a god, and sent him back in a ship to his own country after having given him gold, bronze, and raiment in great abundance. This was the last thing about which he told her, for here a deep sleep took hold upon him and eased the burden of his sorrows.

Then Minerva bethought her of another matter. When she deemed that Ulysses had had both of his wife and of repose, she bade gold-enthroned Dawn rise out of Oceanus that she might shed light upon mankind. On this, Ulysses rose from his comfortable bed and said to Penelope, “Wife, we have both of us had our full share of troubles, you, here, in lamenting my absence, and I in being prevented from getting home though I was longing all the time to do so. Now, however, that we have at last come together, take care of the property that is in the house. As for the sheep and goats which the wicked suitors have eaten, I will take many myself by force from other people, and will compel the Achaeans to make good the rest till they shall have filled all my yards. I am now going to the wooded lands out in the country to see my father who has so long been grieved on my account, and to yourself I will give these instructions, though you have little need of them. At sunrise it will at once get abroad that I have been killing the suitors; go upstairs, therefore,184 and stay there with your women. See nobody and ask no questions.”185

As he spoke he girded on his armour. Then he roused Telemachus, Philoetius, and Eumaeus, and told them all to put on their armour also. This they did, and armed themselves. When they had done so, they opened the gates and sallied forth, Ulysses leading the way. It was now daylight, but Minerva nevertheless concealed them in darkness and led them quickly out of the town.