The Tale of Troy

by Roger Green

  With that Proteus winked knowingly, and jumped backwards into the sea before they could prevent him.

  However, Menelaus knew enough now, and deciding to trust Proteus implicitly, he launched one of his ships and set sail for Egypt. The north wind blew steadily, so that the voyage was easy: but when they drew near to the mouth of the Nile, the wind increased suddenly to a gale, and dashed the ship to pieces on a reef of hidden rocks.

  Menelaus and most of his men swam to the shore, and took shelter in a cave, drenched and miserable.

  In the morning Menelaus set out alone, still encrusted with sea salt and grime, and perfectly disguised by the miserable raggedness to which the rocks had reduced all his fine clothes.

  When he reached the city he was directed to the Temple of the Strange Hathor, where wanderers might find shelter, and reaching it he knelt down at the altar in the courtyard.

  There the greatest surprise of all his adventures befell him: for presently the Priestess of Hathor came forward to the altar, and it was none other than Helen herself, attended by her four handmaidens.

  Very quickly Menelaus made himself known to her, and Helen was filled with joy. But fear came very quickly on the heels of joy.

  ‘If you are discovered, they will kill you!’ she cried. ‘And my death is near me also. For Theoclymenus, Egypt's King, comes this day to make me his wife by force. When the ship brought me here, his father the king who has recently died called me the Strange Hathor and made me Priestess of Hathor, which is their name for Aphrodite, here in this temple.

  ‘But Theoclymenus is of another spirit and cares little for what we think right and wrong. Priestess though I am, he will make me his wife: all that troubles him is the thought that you, my husband, may still be alive.’

  Then, their wits sharpened by the danger, they thought of a scheme to outwit Theoclymenus and win safely away, though the ship in which Menelaus came to Egypt had been dashed to pieces.

  When Theoclymenus came to the Temple later that morning, Menelaus, still in his rags, knelt at the king's feet and cried:

  ‘My lord, I bring news! Menelaus, King of Sparta, is dead! His ship was wrecked on your coast and I alone escaped from the angry sea and the sharp rocks. But Menelaus was killed: I saw with my own eyes how the rocks crushed his bones before the waves carried his body out to sea!’

  Theoclymenus was delighted with this news, and turned to Helen exclaiming: ‘Now there is nothing to keep us apart!’

  ‘Nothing indeed,’ sobbed Helen, ‘and I will marry you of my own wish and with full consent. But first grant me a request. Menelaus was a great king, and I loved him once: let me celebrate his funeral rites after the true Greek style.’

  ‘Certainly you may,’ said Theoclymenus, ‘all that I have is yours. Do as you please, for I know not the funeral customs of the Greeks.’

  ‘Then we must have a ship,’ said Helen, ‘for the rites of those lost at sea must be performed on the sea itself, at a spot where the land is only just in sight. I must have a bull to sacrifice: this shipwrecked sailor can come and attend to that, since he is a Greek and knows well what to do. Then my Menelaus was a warrior, so I must have a fine suit of armour to cast into the sea in his honour. And there must be garments and ornaments too: and an offering of wine and bread…’

  ‘All shall be as you desire,’ said Theoclymenus. ‘A ship of mine, manned by enough of my sailors to row or sail it shall be ready in an hour, and this Greek, since he is to perform the ceremony, shall be in command of it.’

  So all things were prepared: Helen led the way, followed by her handmaidens who carried rich robes, jewels and other offerings, and Menelaus followed. On the quayside his own sailors who had survived the shipwreck joined them, since the bull proved difficult and could not be placed on board without their aid.

  The ship set sail, and the wind blew suddenly from the south until soon the land grew dim behind them.

  ‘Now for the sacrifice!’ cried Menelaus, and slew the bull in fine style. ‘And now, he added, ‘let us cast these Egyptian barbarians into the sea, to swim back to King Theoclymenus if they can, while we sail for Hellas!’

  The Egyptians were soon overpowered, and, being good swimmers, most of them reached the shore to tell Theoclymenus how Menelaus had tricked him. But Menelaus himself sailed triumphantly away, was joined by his three ships as he passed the island of Pharos and came safely to Greece without any further adventures.

  They landed at Nauplia, to find that Orestes had just killed Aegisthus and Clytemnestra and was about to be stoned by the people. But Apollo appeared at the right moment to save Hermione, whom Orestes and Electra had captured as a hostage, and when Orestes set out on his wanderings, Helen and Menelaus took their daughter back to Sparta to await his return.

  When Neoptolemus came and carried her off, Menelaus prepared to set out in pursuit of them. But news came that the wicked son of Achilles had perished miserably at Delphi, and Hermione was on her way back to them, safe and unhurt.

  A year later Orestes returned, his madness cured and his deeds forgiven and purified, and his wedding with Hermione was celebrated with all joy and honour.

  Not long after they had gone to claim their kingdom at Mycenae, and ten years since the fall of Troy, a stranger prince arrived at Sparta. He was welcomed by kindly Menelaus, and that evening as he sat feasting in the great hall of the palace, Helen came forth from her fragrant chamber as bright as golden Artemis and still the loveliest woman in all the world, and greeted the young prince.

  ‘Noble sir, none have I ever seen so like another, man or woman, as you are like one of the noblest of the Greeks, who suffered many things and did deeds unforgettable at Troy for my poor sake. Surely you must be Telemachus, the son whom Odysseus left as a new-born child in his palace when first he sailed for Troy?’

  Then the stranger answered: ‘Queen of Sparta, I am indeed Telemachus, the son of Odysseus. It is ten years since Troy fell, and he alone of all the heroes who fought there has not returned home: yet no news has come to us of his death.’

  Then Helen and Menelaus welcomed Telemachus as warmly as if he had been their own son, and he told them how the palace at Ithaca was filled with evil men who were the suitors of Queen Penelope urging her to marry one of them and declaring that Odysseus was surely dead.

  ‘He is not dead, and he will return this very year!’ cried Menelaus. ‘For so Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea, told me. Odysseus, he said, was held prisoner by the nymph Calypso in her magic isle, but would return to Ithaca ten years after the fall of Troy!’

  CHAPTER 14

  THE WANDERINGS OF ODYSSEUS

  *

  Yet endure! We shall not be shaken

  By things worse than these;

  We have 'scaped when our friends were taken,

  On the unsailed seas

  Worse deaths have we faced and fled from,

  In the Cyclops' den,

  When the floor of his cave ran red from

  blood of men.

  ANDREW LANG

  The World's Desire

  14

  When the great storm scattered the Greek fleet as it sailed away from Troy, Odysseus and his twelve ships were driven northwards to Ismarus, a town in Thrace. They landed there and took the town by storm: for the Thracians were allies of the Trojans, and they knew that Odysseus had killed their king, Rhesus.

  Odysseus however took care that no harm was done to Maron the priest of Apollo, and in gratitude Maron gave him twelve jars of wine so strong that each needed to be mixed with twenty times the quantity of water for a man to drink of it without intoxication.

  Soon the Thracians from further inland came to attack Odysseus, and he put to sea as the lesser of two evils. The storm wind had veered round by now, and it drove him south for ten days and nights until he came to the land of the Lotus-eaters. Now whoever eats of the Lotus fruit forgets his home and all worthy things, desiring only to lie in the warm, sunny meadows and eat the Lotus for the rest of his
life.

  Odysseus sent some of his men to see who dwelt in that land; and these, when they had tasted the Lotus, forgot even to come back and tell him. So he set out with another party, found them and forced them back to the ships in spite of their prayers and lamentations. Then they sailed on, and came to a big, fertile island on which grazed many sheep. Cautious Odysseus left his fleet behind a rocky islet nearby and landed on the main island with twelve men, leaving one ship with the rest of its crew ready to sail at a moment's notice.

  Up the beach went Odysseus and his twelve companions, and presently they came to a big cave in which were jars of milk, big cheeses and huge piles of firewood, besides many kids and lambs playing in their wattle pens.

  ‘Some shepherd must live here,’ said Odysseus, ‘and shepherds are usually friendly people. Let us wait until he returns, and see if we can buy cheeses and other stores from him.’

  Evening seemed slow in coming, and while they waited the men lit a fire and helped themselves to some of the cheeses for their supper.

  Then suddenly the owner of the cave arrived, driving his flocks before him and carrying a dead tree over one shoulder. Odysseus and his companions fled to the very back of the cave and hid there, quaking in terror: for he was a terrible Cyclops, a giant with only one eye which was in the middle of his forehead.

  When the Cyclops, whose name was Polyphemus, had milked his goats and ewes, he heaped wood on to the fire, and the light revealed the men hiding in the darkest corners.

  ‘Ho-ho!’ cried Polyphemus in a great voice. ‘Who are you? Pirates, sea-robbers come to bring ill upon other men and other men's goods?’

  ‘Not so, mighty sir,’ answered Odysseus, overcoming his fear with difficulty. ‘We are poor Greeks returning from the sack of Troy, seeking our homes after many years of war. I beg you to deal kindly with us: for Zeus brings evil upon those who harm a stranger.’

  Polyphemus laughed cruelly. ‘Mad or foolish you must be, stranger,’ he cried. ‘For no Cyclops pays any heed to Zeus, nor indeed to any of the Immortals, save only Poseidon, ruler of the sea, for he is my father. But tell me, where did you leave your ship? In some safe bay of the island, I hope.’

  Then Odysseus, fearing the worst, spoke words of guile. ‘Alas,’ he said, ‘Poseidon who shakes the earth broke our tall ship to pieces on the rocks, and we poor few escaped only with our lives.’

  Hearing this, the Cyclops growled angrily, and reaching out his great hand he seized two of the sailors in it, dashed out their brains on the rocky floor, cut them up and devoured them for his supper, even crunching up the bones with his strong teeth. Then he drank several vats of milk, and grunting happily, settled down on the floor and fell fast asleep.

  Now Odysseus was minded to see if with a careful sword-stroke straight to the heart he could kill the monster as he slept. But he realized in time that to do so would mean their certain death since Polyphemus had placed across the doorway of the cave a mass of rock so huge that twenty men could not have stirred it.

  In the morning Polyphemus awoke, milked his flocks, ate two more men and went out for the day blocking the cave-mouth carefully behind him.

  Then Odysseus set to work with the help of his terrified companions. He cut a great stake like the top of a mast, sharpened one end and hardened the point in the fire. Scarcely was this done and the weapon concealed under a pile of dung, when back came Polyphemus driving his sheep and goats before him. As on the previous evening he began by replacing the great stone over the cave-mouth; then he attended to his flocks; and after that made his supper on two more of the companions of Odysseus.

  When his meal was complete and he was just settling down for a good drink of milk before going to sleep, Odysseus stepped forward and bowing low held up a great wooden goblet filled with red wine: for by great good fortune he had brought with him one of the jars of strong wine which grateful Maron had given to him in Thrace.

  ‘Cyclops, take and drink wine after your feast of man's flesh, so that you may know what sort of cargo our good ship held,’ he said politely.

  Polyphemus grabbed the cup and drained it at a gulp; then, smacking his lips, he handed it back to Odysseus demanding more: for he had never tasted wine.

  ‘Fill again,’ he hiccoughed, ‘and then maybe I will give you a gift. For never have I drunk anything so good.’

  Odysseus filled the cup yet again, and the Cyclops began to grow very intoxicated.

  ‘Tell me your name, stranger,’ he said. ‘Then I can drink to your health.’

  ‘Noble sir,’ answered Odysseus, ‘my name is Nobody. That's what my father and mother and my dear wife, and all my friends call me.’

  ‘All right, Nobody,’ grunted the Cyclops, ‘this is my gift to you in exchange for the delicious drink – I'll eat you last of all your companions!’

  And with that he sank down on the cave floor and fell fast asleep, snoring like a whole herd of swine.

  Then Odysseus and his companions took the sharpened stake, and having made the end hot in the fire, they plunged it into the single eye of Polyphemus and twirled it round until he was blinded.

  Polyphemus let out the most fearful yells and tried in vain to catch Odysseus and the rest of the men. Presently, hearing his cries, one Cyclops after another came running from their caves nearby to see what had happened.

  ‘Polyphemus!’ they called. ‘Whatever makes you yell like that in the middle of the night? Surely no one is driving off your flocks; and even more surely you are not being slain by force or craft?’

  Then Polyphemus shouted back from within the cave: ‘Nobody is slaying me by guile! Nobody is slaying me by force!’

  ‘Oh, if nobody is hurting you,’ they answered crossly, ‘you must be suffering from some pain sent by an Immortal. So pray to your father Poseidon, and let us get some sleep!’

  Then they returned to their own caves, and Odysseus laughed to himself at the ease with which he had beguiled each foolish Cyclops.

  Morning came, and Polyphemus opened the cave, since the sheep and goats had all to go out and graze. But he seated himself at the cave-mouth and felt each sheep as it passed him to make sure that the Greeks did not escape. But Odysseus tied the sheep together in sets of three, and under the middle sheep of each three he bound one of his men. Then he himself seized hold of the greatest ram in the flock and hung on to the thick wool under its belly.

  ‘Alas my poor ram!’ said Polyphemus as he stroked its back. ‘Usually you run frisking to the pasture before any of the ewes. But today you linger behind: maybe you are sorry for your poor master whom this accursed Nobody has blinded!’

  When they were clear of the cave, Odysseus released his companions and they hastened down to the ship, driving with them many of the sheep and goats.

  As the ship sailed out from the land Odysseus stood in the stern and shouted aloud:

  ‘Cyclops! You have not been cheated and blinded by a mere Nobody! If anyone asks who robbed you of your eye, you may tell him that it was Odysseus the sacker of cities, the son of Laertes, King of Ithaca!’

  Polyphemus flung a mighty rock which almost hit the ship; but his second throw raised a great wave which washed it well out of his reach. Then he prayed to his Immortal father:

  ‘Poseidon, girdler of the earth, grant that Odysseus the son of Laertes may never win home to Ithaca! But if it is ordained that he must return, then may he come late and in an evil plight; may he come in the ship of strangers, having lost all his companions, and may he find sorrows waiting for him in his home!’

  Over the dancing waves sailed Odysseus, and he might have won home in spite of the Cyclops's curse had it not been for the greed and stupidity of his own men. For he came next to the Isle of the Winds, and there King Aeolus who held the winds in charge to loose or bind at the will of Zeus gave them all to Odysseus in a great oxhide bag. So they sailed peacefully home until they could see the very smoke rising from the chimneys in Ithaca. But then Odysseus, feeling that they were safe at last, fel
l asleep and his men opened the bag because they thought that it contained gold which he was keeping for himself. Out rushed the winds, and drove them back into unknown seas, and King Aeolus would not bind them again for Odysseus, who had missed his chance.

  Now the curse of Polyphemus began to work upon them, for they were driven far across the sea and landed in the country of the Laestrygonians who were fierce cannibals. These people dropped huge rocks from the cliffs that sank all but one of the ships, and then caught the wretched sailors as they swam ashore.

  Odysseus escaped in his own ship by cutting the cable, and they came sadly to the island of Aeaea where dwelt Circe the enchantress, the sister of Aeetes the king of Colchis whom Jason and Medea had visited many years before.

  Not knowing what sort of entertainment to expect, Odysseus divided his company into half and cast lots as to which should go first to the buildings which they saw among the trees in the distance.

  The lot fell on Eurylochus, who set out with his two and twenty companions, and came to a fair palace where Circe welcomed them kindly. All entered except Eurylochus who hid in the wood to see what would happen. Circe led the men to a table in the long hall and set before each of them a great bowl filled with cheese and honey and barley meal and wine: but with each there was mixed also a magic drug. When the men had drunk, she touched them with her wand, and at once they were all changed into swine which she drove out of the palace and shut up in a sty at the back.