The <I>Odyssey</I>

Home > Fantasy > The <I>Odyssey</I> > Page 64
The <I>Odyssey</I> Page 64

by Homer


  He left and hurriedly carried some back to the suitors.

  Odysseus’s heart and knees felt loosened and weakened

  watching them belt on armor and brandish the lengthy

  spears in their hands. His job now struck him as massive.

  He spoke to Telemakhos—words with a feathery swiftness—

  150

  “Telemakhos, plainly one of the maids in the great hall

  stirs up harmful fighting—or maybe Melanthios.”

  Promptly Telemakhos gave him a sensible answer.

  ♦ “Father, I made the mistake myself—none of the others

  made it. I left the handsome, tight-fit door of the arms-room

  ajar. The suitors’ watch was better than mine was.

  “But go there, godlike Eumaios, close the door of the arms-room

  and find out whether one of the women has done this.

  I’d guess Melanthios rather, the son of Dolios.”

  Catching the Goatherd

  Even now as they spoke that way with each other

  160

  Melanthios went to the room again: that driver of goat-flocks

  hauled out gleaming armor. But godlike Eumaios

  saw him and promptly came back to Odysseus saying,

  “Son of Laertes, bloodline of Zeus, wily Odysseus,

  that plague-like man has gone again to the arms-room,

  the one we supposed ourselves. Answer me plainly:

  should I kill him or not if I am his better?

  Or haul him to you and make him pay for his many

  crimes, for all the schemes he mulled in your own house?”

  An answer came from Odysseus, full of his own plans:

  170

  “I and Telemakhos doubtless will hold off the high-born

  suitors inside the hall, however they press us.

  You two wrench his hands and feet up behind him,

  throw him back in the room and tie a plank at his backbone

  with twisted rope. Lash his body and raise him

  high on one of the posts there, close to the roof-beams.

  He’ll stay alive but smart and suffer a long time.”

  The Goatherd Strung Up

  Those were his words. They listened well and obeyed him,

  going off to the room. The man inside did not see them:

  he rummaged for arms in the inmost part of the storeroom.

  180

  Both men waited, standing on either side of the doorway.

  Soon as the goatherd Melanthios came to the threshold,

  one hand holding a very beautiful helmet,

  the other a broad old shield dotted with rust-marks—

  Laertes, a war-chief when younger, had carried it often,

  but now it lay there, stitching and hand-straps loosened—

  the two men jumped him, grabbing his hair, and they dragged him

  back inside. His heart slumped as they threw him and lashed him

  hand and foot on the floor with spirit-destroying

  rope. They pulled it behind him, the way they were told to

  190

  by long-suffering, godlike Odysseus, son of Laertes.

  Knotting a twisted cord close to his torso,

  they raised him high on a column, close to the roofbeams.

  Then Eumaios the swineherd, you mocked him by saying,

  “Surely, Melanthios, all night long you can watch here,

  lying down on a soft bed just as it suits you!

  You won’t be missing newborn Dawn as she rises

  from Ocean’s flow on her chair of gold when you often

  herded goats to suitors and helped them dine in the household.”

  They left him there in his tight, punishing bindings.

  200

  The two men donned their armor. Closing the bright door,

  they hurried back to their mind-full, crafty Odysseus.

  The Odds Against

  He stood there breathing rage. Those on the threshold

  were four but the rest in the hall were plenty of brave men.

  The daughter of Zeus, Athene came to them quite close,

  in voice and form taking the likeness of Mentor.

  Odysseus felt new joy when he saw her and told her,

  “Mentor, keep us from death! Remember a dear friend

  who treated you well. And you and I are the same age.”

  He stopped and supposed it might be Athene, rouser of armed men.

  210

  Threatening the Goddess

  But suitors warned her, raising a cry in the great hall,

  Agelaos telling her first, the son of Damastor,

  “Mentor, don’t be tricked by any words of Odysseus

  telling you to fight with us suitors or rush to his own aid.

  I’m thinking our plans will all be realized this way:

  after we kill those two, father and son both,

  you’ll be killed with them next for the work you were eager

  to do in this hall. The price you’ll pay is your own head.

  Then after we’ve wrested all your strength with our sharp bronze

  all your wealth will be ours, the indoor and outdoor

  220

  wealth to mix with Odysseus’s. Nor will your own sons

  then be allowed to live in your house, and your daughters

  and splendid wife won’t walk through an Ithakan city.”

  Rousing the Leader

  Athene became more angry now that he’d spoken.

  She turned and hotly scolded Odysseus saying,

  “Your strength and courage, Odysseus, are steadfast no longer,

  not as they were when you endlessly warred with the Trojans,

  fighting for nine years for white-armed, well-fathered Helen.

  You took down plenty of men in frightful encounters,

  then with your plan the wide-way city of Priam was taken.

  230

  How is it now, when you’ve come back home to your own wealth,

  you wail at the thought of bravely facing the suitors?

  Come here, old friend. Stand close, witness my war-work

  and learn what sort of a man I am with your rivals.

  I’m Mentor, Alkinoos’s son, repaying your good work.”

  She stopped but gave him no great triumph beyond doubt—

  ♦ not yet. She wanted to test the vigor and prowess

  of both these men, the well-known son and Odysseus.

  Suddenly taking the form of a swallow, she fluttered

  high in the smoky hall to a rafter and perched there.

  240

  Many Spears at Once

  Now Damastor’s son Agelaos heartened the suitors,

  Eurunomos urged them, Amphimedon too and Peisandros,

  Poluktor’s son; Demoptolemos also, and mind-full

  Polubos: those were the best by far and the bravest

  suitors alive. They’d fight to stay with the living,

  the bow and showering arrows having already

  sprawled the rest. Agelaos made things plain for them all there:

  “My friends, this man’s relentless hand may be checked now.

  Clearly Mentor, that idle braggart, has gone off.

  They’re left alone right there in front of the doorway.

  250

  Let’s not hurtle all our long spears at the same time:

  you throw first, you six. If only the great Zeus

  helps you to strike Odysseus, gaining your fame here!

  We don’t care about others if he can be brought down.”

  Help from the Goddess

  He spoke that way and they all threw as he told them,

  eagerly. Yet Athene caused them all to be wasted.

  One spear drove in a well-raised post of the great hall.

  Another one struck the door fitted with close jambs.

  Another of ash and heavy bronze damaged a bright wall.

/>   Better Aim

  Having avoided all the spears of the suitors,

  260

  long-suffering, godlike Odysseus called out,

  “Now my friends! I say we too should be throwing

  spears at that crowd of suitors, men who are eager

  to maim and strip us, to add to their earlier evils.”

  Soon as he’d spoken they all hurtled their sharp spears,

  aiming well. Telemakhos killed Euruades.

  Odysseus, Demoptolemos. Eumaios cut down Elatos.

  The cattle tender, Philoitios, brought down Peisandros.

  All the dying gnashed on the broad ground at the same time.

  Suitors were moving back to the inmost part of the great hall.

  270

  Men bounded forward to pull out spears from the corpses.

  Another Volley

  Again the suitors were hurling sharp spears with an eager

  aim but Athene caused a lot to be wasted.

  One spear drove at a well-raised post in the great hall.

  Another one hit the door fitted with close jambs.

  A third of ash and heavy bronze damaged a bright wall.

  However Amphimedon struck Telemakhos lightly,

  grazing his wrist, the bronze tearing some skin off.

  Ktesippos’s lengthy spear passed over Eumaios’s

  shield and cut his shoulder and bounced on the dirt floor.

  280

  Again those circling a knowing and crafty Odysseus

  threw their sharp spears at the crowded suitors.

  Odysseus, looter of cities, lanced Eurudamas right there.

  Telemakhos pierced Amphimedon. Polubus promptly

  was hit by the swineherd. The cattle-man, striking Ktesippos

  hard in the chest, gloated over him saying,

  “Ah Polutherses’ son, you lover of insults!

  No more foolish or big talk: leave to the great Gods

  all such speeches—they’re far more powerful truly.

  My spear is your guest-gift, matching the ox-hoof you offered

  290

  godlike Odysseus before, when he begged in the household.”

  Panic in the Great Hall

  The herder of tight-horned cattle ended his boasting.

  Odysseus’ long spear transfixed the son of Damastor

  now in close. Telemakhos stabbed Leokritos, son of Euenor,

  pushing the spear in, driving it straight through his belly.

  He crumpled forward, striking the earth flat on his forehead.

  Athene raised her shield, breaking their spirits

  from high on a roof-beam: the brains of suitors were jangled,

  they ran like droves of cattle around in the great hall

  as though attacked and chased by a fast-flying gadfly

  300

  for hours in spring when the longer days are arriving.

  Prey and Predator

  The way that hook-beaked birds of prey with their crooked

  talons arrive from the mountains and harry the small birds

  flying under a mist or scared on a flat field—

  the hawks grapple and kill them, the prey are without some

  way to escape or fight and men welcome those hunters—

  the four were chasing the suitors through all of the great hall,

  striking on every side. Anguished groans were rising

  as skulls were cracked and blood heaved on the whole floor.

  A Beggarly Plea

  Leiodes ran to and grasped the knees of Odysseus

  310

  making a plea, his words with a feathery swiftness,

  “I’m holding your knees, Odysseus, spare me, revere me!

  I tell you I never spoke or acted without care

  regarding your household women. In fact I kept trying

  to stop the rest of the suitors from acting in that way.

  They failed to obey me, to keep their hands from such evil.

  Instead they’ve rushed to a scandalous doom for their brashness.

  ♦ I was their soothsayer also, doing you no harm.

  Shall I lie here thankless later for good work?”

  Odysseus, full of designs, glared darkly and told him,

  320

  “Yet if you claim you were their soothsayer truly,

  I’m sure you offered a lot of prayers in the great hall

  to keep my goal, my honeyed homecoming, far off,

  to make my wife join you bearing your children.

  Therefore you won’t avoid this punishing death-blow.”

  While he spoke his thick-set hand had been grabbing

  a sword that lay on the floor—Agelaos had dropped it

  while dying. He stabbed Leiodes’ neck in the middle.

  That head, pleading its last, mixed with the dust there.

  What about the Poet?

  Terpis’s poet son had skulked and avoided

  330

  a black doom. Often forced to sing for the suitors,

  Phemios held his clear-toned lyre with both hands

  close to the far-side door, pondering two paths:

  whether to sneak from the hall and sit at the well-built

 

‹ Prev