A chil' les—also called Pelides, the hero of the "Iliad." He was the son of Peleus (king of Phthia in Thessaly) and the sea-nymph, Thetis. Æ ge' an—a sea east of Greece. Æ' o lus—the keeper of the winds, and king of Lipara, one of the Æolian isles north of Sicily. Ag a mem' non—leader of all the Greek chiefs in the Trojan war. A' jax, or Aias—king of Salamis and cousin of Achilles. He was the son of Telamon and was called Ajax the Greater. Al ex an' dros—Paris, son of Priam. Al kin' o Ös—king of Scheria, father of NausicaÄ. He gave aid to Odysseus when he was stranded on the island. An tin' o Ös—the boldest of the suitors. Aph ro di' te—Venus, the goddess of love and beauty. The island of Kythera (Cythera), south of Greece, was the seat of her worship. A pol' lo—the Sun-god, brother of Artemis and son of Zeus and Leto. The island of Delos was his mythical birthplace and his principal oracle was at Delphi. Ar ca' di a, or Arkadia—the central district of the Peloponnesus. A re' tÈ (Ä ra' ta)—wife of AlkinoÖs and queen of Scheria. Ar e thu' sa—a spring "where the swine of Eumaios ate 'abundance of acorns and drank the black water.'" (See Baedeker's Greece—Ithaca.) Arethusa was also the name of a water-nymph inhabiting the spring. Ar' gus, or Argos—the most celebrated dog known to fame. He belonged to Odysseus. Ar' te mis, or Diana—goddess of the moon and sister to Apollo. She was called the hunter-goddess and the protector of animals. As' pho del—a flower sacred to Persephone. The souls of the departed were supposed to wander in meadows adorned with these beautiful flowers. A the' ne, or Athena; Latin, Minerva—the patron deity of Athens. The city was named for her. Ruskin calls her the "Queen of the Air," and explains her real significance as being the inspiration of the soul, which corresponds to the physical vigor and life received by inhaling the pure air. She is always called the "Goddess of Wisdom." A' treus (a' truse)—son of Pelops and father of Agamemnon. Au' lis—a bay and town on the coast of Greece, about thirty miles north of Athens. "The scanty ruins of Aulis lie on the rugged ridge of rock which stretches into the sea between the two bays. The little town never attained any importance, for its site was unfavorable for the development of a community; but the two sheltered bays were excellently adapted to be the rendezvous of a fleet." (See Baedeker's Greece—Aulis.) Cad' mus, or Kadmos—the founder of Thebes in Boeotia. According to tradition, he came from Phoenicia and brought the alphabet to the Greeks and the knowledge of working in metals. Cal' chas, or Kalchas—a soothsayer. He offended Agamemnon by declaring that the Greeks suffered from the wrath of the gods through his offences. Ca lyp' so—the goddess of Silence, daughter of Oceanos and Tethys, and queen of Ogygia. She tried by every art to detain Odysseus on his way home from Troy. Cas san' dra—a daughter of Priam, and a prophetess, taken captive in the Trojan war and awarded to Agamemnon. Cha ryb' dis—a whirlpool off the coast of Sicily, a little to the north of Messina. Cir' cÈ, or Kirke—the daughter of Helios, the Sun. She was an enchantress who lived on the island ÆÆa. She infused into the vine the intoxicating quality found in the juice of the grape. "The grave of Circe used to be pointed out on the island of St. George, close to Salamis." (See Baedeker's Greece—Salamis.) Cy' clops, or Kyklops, also called Polyphemus—a monstrous one-eyed giant. He was the son of Poseidon. It was due to his prayer for revenge that Odysseus was kept so long wandering on the sea. Cy the' ra, or Kythera—a rocky island lying south of Greece. It was the seat of the worship of Aphrodite. De' los—an island about sixty miles southeast of Athens. It is the mythical birthplace of Apollo and Artemis. De mod' o kos—a bard at the court of AlkinoÖs. E' lis—a district and a city in the northwestern part of the Peloponnesus. Like Sparta, the city had no walls. It was protected by the sacred peace of Olympia. The plain or precinct of Olympia is situated in the district of Elis. Pyrgos is the nearest railroad station. "Olympia owed its high importance throughout the entire Grecian world to the famous Olympic games in honor of Zeus, which took place periodically for centuries. Excavations there have brought to light many magnificent pieces of sculpture, among them the Hermes of Praxiteles." El pe' nor—one of the comrades of Odysseus. He fell from the roof of CircÈ's palace and was killed. E lys' ian—pertaining to Elysium, the abode of dead heroes and other happy spirits. Eu mai' os, or EumÆus—the swineherd of Odysseus. Eu ro' tas—a river of southern Greece. Eu ry' a los—a son of AlkinoÖs. Eu ry clei' a (u ry cli' Ä)—the nurse of Odysseus and Telemachos. Eu ry' lo chos, or Eurylochus—one of the companions of Odysseus. Eu ry' ma chos, or Eurymachus—one of the suitors of Penelope. Gor' gon—a monster of fearful aspect, a daughter of Phorkys and Ceto. Her hair was entwined with serpents, her hands were of brass, her body covered with scales, and anyone gazing upon her was turned into stone. Hel' en, or Helene—a daughter of Tyndareus and Leda. She was the wife of Menelaos and was always called "the most beautiful woman in the world." Hel' las—Greece, the land of the Hellenes. He' li os—the god of the Sun. He phais' tos, or HephÆstus—Vulcan. He was the blacksmith god, the god of fire, and a worker in metals. He' ra, Here—Juno, the wife of Zeus. She was worshipped as the queen of heaven and was regarded as a model of womanly virtue. Argos was the chief centre of the worship of Hera. Her' a kles, or Hercules—a celebrated hero whose deeds are connected with many localities. There is a cave near Nemea where he is said to have slain a lion, not far from Stymphalos, where he put the Harpies to flight, and Erymanthos, the scene of the killing of the Erymanthian boar. There are traditions of his heroism connected with Thessaly (Thebes) and Locris, also. Her' bart—a German philosopher and pedagogian. Her' mes, or Mercury—the messenger of the gods, also their herald. Her mi' o ne—the daughter of Menelaos and Helen. Ho' mer—the greatest of the Greek poets and author of the "Iliad" and "Odyssey." I' da—a mountain of Asia Minor, east of Troy. Il' i ad—an epic poem, probably the greatest ever written, devoted to the deeds of Achilles, and taken by the best scholars of modern times as an interpretation of Greek life, Greek thought, and the Greek religion. I' no, or Leucothea—a daughter of Cadmus, a sea-nymph who helped Odysseus by giving him an enchanted veil. Iph i gen ei' a—the daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra. "Ulrichs has discovered the site of the famous Temple of Artemis or Diana, where Agamemnon was on the point of sacrificing his daughter Iphigeneia, before the departure of the Greek fleet for Troy." (See Baedeker's Greece—Aulis.) To appreciate the character of this famous woman one must read the "Iphigeneia in Aulis" of Euripides and the "Iphigeneia in Tauris" of Goethe. Ith' a ca, or Ithaka, Greek IthÁke—rocky island with an area of 37½ square miles and 12,500 inhabitants. "The world-wide fame of this little island is of course due to the Homeric epic of the Odyssey, in which the misfortunes and wiles, the wanderings, and home-coming of Ulysses (Odysseus), King of Ithaca, have been handed down to posterity in undying verse. Even if the person of the hero be relegated to the realm of myths, it is indisputable that the descriptions of the poem rest upon a more or less exact local knowledge; and this is evident not only in the account of the situation and general character of the island but also in numerous small details.... The island became almost entirely depopulated in the middle ages, in consequence of the raids of pirates and the Turkish wars, and did not begin to recover until the Venetian epoch. But similar conditions of life make the modern islanders resemble the ancient. To this day the Ithacans are distinguished by their bold seamanship, their love of home, and their hospitality." (See Baedeker's Greece—Ithaca.) Ja' son, or Iason—the hero who undertook the expedition in search of the Golden Fleece. Ktes ip' pos, or Ctesippus—one of the suitors of Penelope. Lak e dai' mon, or LacedÆmon—a district in southeastern Greece. Sparta was its capital. La Ër' tes—the father of Odysseus. La o' da mÀs—a son of AlkinoÖs. La o' co Ön, or LaokoÖn—a young priest of Apollo. He warned the Trojans not to accept the wooden horse left by the Greeks and was destroyed by a serpent. Lo' tus—the Egyptian water-lily, also a tree. The lotus-eaters ate of the fruit of the lotus-tree and forgot their homes and friends. Me lan' thi os—a servant of Odysseus, a goatherd who sympathized with the suitors and served them. Men e la' os, or Menelaus—a son of Atreus and brother of Agamemnon. Menelaos was the king of Sparta and husband of Helen. Men' tor—the wise counsellor of Telemachos. Mil ti' Ä des—the hero of the battle of Marathon, fought 490 B.C. In this battle the Greeks, numbering 10,000 men, conquered ten times as many Persians. Mi' nos—a son of Zeus and ruler over Crete. Mo' ly—a fabulous plant having magic properties. It had a white blossom and a black root. My ce' nÆ, or Mykenai—an ancient city of Argolis, in the northeastern Peloponnesus. "Dr. Henry Schliemann, in 1876, made rich discoveries there, weapons, ornaments, vessels of gold, silver and clay," skeletons "surrounded by bands of gold, golden shovels engraved with battle-scenes," etc. (See Baedeker's Greece—MycenÆ and Athens.) Myr' mi dons—a warlike people of Thrace, ruled by Achilles and taken by him to the Trojan war as followers. Nau sic' a Ä—the daughter of AlkinoÖs. Ne op tol' e mos—the son of Achilles. Nes' tor—the leader of the warriors of Pylos, in southwestern Greece. O ke' a nos, or Oceanus—the god of the river Oceanus, and son of Heaven and Earth. Od ys' seus (suse), or Ulysses—the son of Laertes and Anticleia and the hero of Homer's Odyssey. Being summoned to the Trojan war, he feigned madness, and harnessed a mule and a cow to a plough and began ploughing the sea-shore. Palamedes, to test his madness, placed his infant son, Telemachos, in front of the plough, and Odysseus quickly turned it aside. He became famous for his bravery and craft in the war. He is looked upon by critics as the most perfect type of adult Greek ideals.
O lymp' os, or Olympus—a mountain in Thrace. The home of the gods. O res' tes—the son of Agamemnon. Par' is, or Alexandros—a son of Priam. At his birth there was a prophecy that he would be the ruin of his country; hence he was cast out upon Mount Ida, where he was found and rescued by a shepherd. (See Introduction.) Par nas' sos—a mountain near the north coast of the Corinthian Gulf. It is 8,070 feet high and commands a view of Mount Olympos to the north, Euboea on the east, the islands of the Archipelago, the Peloponnesus, and even Mount Korax. Pat' ro klos, or Patroclus—the intimate friend of Achilles. His death at the hands of the Trojans provoked Achilles to action. Pei sis' tra tos—a son of Nestor. Pe' leus—the father of Achilles. Pel op on nes' us—the peninsula of lower Greece. Pe nel' o pe—the wife of Odysseus. The greatest heroine of ancient romance. Per seph' o ne, or Proserpine—daughter of Demeter (Ceres). "She was the goddess of Spring and was allowed to spend two-thirds of the year with her mother, while the remaining time she dwelt with her husband, Hades, in his underground abode." Eleusis, twelve miles west of Athens, was the centre of the worship of Demeter and Persephone. (See Baedeker's Greece—Eleusis.) Phai a' ki ans, or PhÆacians—the people of the island of Scheria, over whom AlkinoÖs ruled. Phe' mi os—a bard at the court of Odysseus. Phor' kys—the harbor where the PhÆacians landed Odysseus on his return to Ithaca. "The Bay of Vathy," says Baedeker, "disputes with the Bay of DexiÁ the honor of being the Harbour of Phorkys." Plu' to, or Hades—a son of Rhea and Kronos and brother of Zeus and Poseidon. Pluto was the ruler of the lower world. Po sei' don, or Neptune—brother of Zeus and Hades. Poseidon was the ruler of the seas and was the first to train and employ horses. Pol y phe' mus, or Polyphemos or Cyclops—the son of Poseidon. He was one of the Cyclops or Kyklops who were said to live in the heart of burning mountains, particularly in Mount Ætna. Pri' am, or Priamos—king of Troy and father of Paris. Pro' teus—an ocean deity who lived at the bottom of the sea. He took care of Poseidon's sea-calves and was famous for his evasiveness. Py' los—a town (and bay) in the southwestern part of lower Greece. It was the centre of Nestor's kingdom. Sa' mos—"at present a little village on the island of Cephalonia, the starting-point of the boats to Ithaca. In Homer, the island of Cephalonia, or its east part, is called Same; and in the latter part of the Odyssey, Samos appears as belonging to the kingdom of Ithaca." (Baedeker.) Samos, a large island near Asia Minor, is not related to the Samos of the Odyssey. Ska man' dros, or Scamander—a river of the Troad or plains of Troy. Scher' i a—an island northwest of Greece. "The ancients identified CorfÙ with the PhÆacian island of Scheria, mentioned in the 'Odyssey,' as ruled over by AlkinoÖs." (Baedeker.) Skyl' la—a rock in southwestern Italy. It was supposed to be the abode of a monster with many heads and hands. Sky' ros—a large island east of Greece. Sim' o is—a river in the Troad, and a branch of the Scamander. Si' rens—daughters of AchelÖos and a Muse, or, according to another account, daughters of Phorkys. They failed to care for Persephone when Pluto seized her to carry her off, and Demeter took revenge by transforming them into monsters half woman and half bird. Sis' y phos—a hero who secured a fountain to the citadel of Corinth by betraying Zeus. Sisyphos was punished by being obliged to roll stones up-hill in Hades. Spar' ta—a town in the southern part of the Peloponnesus, on the Eurotas. It was the chief city of LacedÆmon and the home of Menelaos and Helen. It had no walls, but its acropolis was covered with temples. Ancient Sparta was noted for the bravery of its people. At present Sparta has about 3,600 inhabitants. There are few relics of its ancient greatness. Styx—a stream of water in central lower Greece. "The thread of water descends from a huge cliff against a background of dark moss, which has earned for the brook the name of 'Black Water.' At the bottom of the cliff the water loses itself in a chaos of rocks. The ancients saw in the icy coldness of the water and in the barren tract around an image of the underworld." (See Baedeker's Greece.) To swear by the Styx was to take "the great oath of the gods." Tan' ta los—a king of Phrygia punished by the gods for treachery and for cruelty to his son. He was doomed to suffer from hunger and thirst while standing close to food and water which he could not reach. Te le' ma chos—the son of Odysseus and Penelope. Ten' e dos—an island in the neighborhood of Troy or Ilium. Them is' to kles—a great statesman of Athens, and a leader of the Greeks in the Persian war when the Greeks won the battle of Salamis. The' seus (The' suse)—a son of Ægeus and Æthra. Like his counterpart Herakles, Theseus performed wonderful deeds, and finally became ruler of Athens. Thes' sa ly—a large province of northern Greece. The' tis—a sea-nymph, the mother of Achilles. Ti res' ias, or Teiresias—a Theban seer. He retained his consciousness after death, and Odysseus descended into Hades to consult with him before he could reach Ithaca. Troy, Ilios, or Ilium—a city of Asia Minor and the scene of the Trojan war. Dr. Schliemann has identified the city with Hissarlik, and in his excavations there found many evidences of the war, such as spears, helmets, etc. Zeus, or Jupiter—a son of Kronos and Rhea. His abode was supposed to be on Mount Olympos, in Thessaly. He was considered the highest of the gods, ruler of the heavens and the earth. Za' kyn thos, or Zante—an island near CorfÙ. [Transcriber's note: The publishers of this book used an unusual convention in which only a single pair of quotation marks surround a quote, even when the quote extends over multiple paragraphs or multiple chapters. This transcription has conventional usage of quotation marks.] CHAPTER XLVIATHENA ENCOURAGES ODYSSEUSOdysseus was lying on his bed, but he could not sleep, for he was thinking how he might destroy the suitors. Suddenly Athena appeared to him, and said: "Odysseus, why dost thou lie awake? Thou art in thine own house and near thy wife and child." "All this is true, O goddess," answered Odysseus. "But I am only one and the suitors are many. How shall I, single-handed, meet this multitude of men?" "Sleep in peace, Odysseus," returned Athena. "To lie awake saps the life and strength of men. The time has come when all thy sufferings shall end. The gods protect thee and they are stronger than armed warriors." Thus spoke the goddess, and, closing his eyelids with sweet slumber, she flew up to Olympos. While Odysseus was sleeping, his wife had waked, and, sitting on her bed, addressed a prayer to Artemis: "Rather let me die, O goddess, than become the wife of any other man than Odysseus. The very thought vexes me day and night. Just now I had a dream. I seemed to see Odysseus just as he was when he started out for Troy. I was so glad that I could not believe that it was not a reality." She prayed aloud, and soon daylight appeared. Odysseus heard the voice and it filled his heart with anxiety. He arose and hastily placed the rugs on which he had slept on a bench in the palace. Then he went out into the open air. Telemachos had risen also, and he went forth to the market-place. Eurycleia called the servants together and ordered them to be quick about their work, for a festival was to be celebrated that day and the wooers would come early. There was a busy time. The menials obeyed, some bringing water, some sweeping the floors, others polishing the benches and covering them with royal tapestries. The servants of the suitors came also and cut wood for the fires. Eumaios arrived early, driving three fat hogs. He saluted Odysseus and asked him if he were well treated by the suitors, or if they continued to scoff at him. Odysseus answered him: "May the gods punish the ruthless men who perpetrate such wrongs in a stranger's home." While they were talking together the goatherd joined him, and repeated the sneers and abuse of the preceding day. Odysseus took no notice of it, except to shake his head as one who plans direful things. The master herdsman now came along with a fat heifer and choice goats for the day's banquet. Offering his hand to Odysseus, he exclaimed: "Hail to thee, stranger! A long and happy life be thine! Methinks my master must be clothed in rags and wandering like thee. Thou dost bring his image to my mind. I hope he may return and drive these suitors out of his palace." "Be sure that he will come, herdsman; thou wilt see him with thine own eyes, when he slays the ruthless suitors, and then thou wilt know who is lord of the palace," replied Odysseus. The suitors were talking apart from the rest and conspiring to take the life of Telemachos, when an eagle wheeled over their heads, tearing a timid dove. With hearts foreboding ill at this omen, they went into the hall to begin the banquet, while the herdsman went his way first saying, "When Odysseus comes, call on me, and I will show how strong my arm is to deal a blow at his enemies."
CHAPTER XLVIITHE LAST BANQUET OF THE SUITORSThe suitors had now arrived in the great banquet-hall and taken their places at the tables. The servants brought bread and meat and placed it before them, while Melanthios filled their goblets with wine. Telemachos placed Odysseus near the door, and gave him an ample supply of food, saying: "Eat and drink, stranger, without fear. None of the wooers shall assail thee, for I will stand guard." One of the suitors, an evil-minded man with a rich father, said to his companions: "My friends, this stranger enjoys his meal greatly. It does not become any one of us to begrudge good things to the guests of Telemachos. I, too, wish to give him a present, which he in turn may bestow on some other beggar." With that he seized an ox's foot and hurled it at Odysseus. Odysseus dodged it by holding down his head. Telemachos grew angry and rebuked the suitor in these words: "Ktesippos, thou hast escaped death. It is well that this stranger avoided thy blow, for if thou hadst struck him, my sharp spear would have pinned thee to the wall, and thy father would have prepared a burial instead of a wedding for thee." Dreadful forebodings of woe began to fill the hearts of the suitors. Their speech became rambling and they laughed insanely. They ate and drank like men deranged. Penelope now entered the great hall and took her seat upon a magnificent throne, right in front of the suitors. She heard the maudlin laughter and saw the gluttonous feasting as the revel ran high. Then Athena came and moved her mind to immediate action, and she went up to the farthest chamber with her maids, where the arms of Odysseus were stored. His bow and deadly arrows, so long unused, were there, with rich treasures and perfumed garments. She wept as she took the bow from its case and went out, followed by the servants, who carried down costly prizes, such as Odysseus gave when festivals with games were held in his halls. She took her place, standing before the suitors, and addressed them: "Ye noble suitors, listen to my words. Cease to eat and drink and come to the contest. Too long have ye lived at my table, giving as an excuse that ye would win me as a bride. The suitor who can bend this bow and send this arrow through these twelve axes shall claim me as his wife, and I will follow him to his home." Penelope called to the swineherd and the herdsmen to place the rings and carry the bow to the suitors. Each in turn tried to do so, but were overcome with grief at seeing their master's weapons, and laid them down. AntinoÖs lifted up his voice and chid them: "Ye foolish peasants, must your eyes flow with tears at this feast? Bring the bow or leave the palace. Methinks we shall have hard work to bend this bow, for none of us have such sinews as had Odysseus." Then Telemachos took up the bow and laughed. "I must have lost my wits," he said, "for I am glad that this contest will take place. There is not such another woman in Greece as my stately mother. Make no delay then. I long to see the man who can bend the bow. I would that I might bend it myself and win the right to keep her in her own home. Then I should be spared the grief of losing her." Telemachos took off his cloak and laid his sword aside. He placed the axes in a row and took the bow and made three attempts to bend it, but did not succeed. He would have accomplished the feat if he had made one more effort, but Odysseus made a sign to him to desist, so he set the bow against the wall and went back to his seat. The first suitor to make the trial had never been pleased with the insolence of the wooers, and had great foresight and was called their seer. His hands were soft and delicate. He could not bend the bow, but he predicted that it would be the instrument to bring death to the whole crew. AntinoÖs reproached him for his prophecies, and ordered Melanthios to light a fire and bring a slice of fat, that the bow might be warmed and oiled to make it pliable. They warmed it and rubbed it with oil, and tried to bend it. One after another, each in turn, they made trials, but all in vain. In the meantime Odysseus went to the swineherd and the master of the herds, who had displayed such loyalty. He said to them: "My friends, what if Odysseus should come; would you take part with him, or join the crowd of suitors? Speak truly." The two men answered, appealing to the gods to bear witness, that they would stand by their master to the end. "Behold," said Odysseus, "I am the master that you love. I have come to my own land after twenty years of suffering, and among all my servants I hear none pray for my return save you two. And now that you may surely recognize me I will show you the scar made by a boar on Parnassos." He raised his ragged tunic for a moment and they looked at the scar. They recognized their long-lost master, and threw their arms around him and wept, and kissed his hands and feet. Odysseus begged them to desist, lest the suitors should notice it and discover him. And he instructed them to bring the bow to him and place it in his hands, after all the wooers had failed to bend it. And he told them to shut and lock the doors, so that the maid-servants could not hear the groans of the dying men, for they might run out and warn the town. Eurymachos and AntinoÖs were the last to make trial of the bow. Eurymachos sat before the fire and warmed it on both sides, but he could not bend it. He was vexed beyond measure, and said: "It is not that I care for Penelope, for there are other women that would suit me just as well, but if we are weaker than Odysseus our sons will hear of it in future times and be ashamed of us." AntinoÖs took up the word: "Eurymachos," he said, "this is a day held sacred to Apollo, god of the silver bow. He should have no rival. Let the bow alone, lest the god be angry and leave the axes standing in a row. No one will dare to touch them. Let Melanthios bring goats, and we will offer up sacrifices to the god and invite his aid. Then we shall have strength to win in this struggle."
CHAPTER XLVIIIODYSSEUS BENDS THE BOWThe suitors approved the words of AntinoÖs. The heralds filled their cups with wine, and the wise Odysseus waited until they had drunk to their hearts' content. Then he lifted up his voice and said: "Hear me, ye suitors of Penelope, while I advise that you defer this trial of your strength until another day. Apollo will then bestow the power on one of you to triumph over the others. Let me practise with the bow to-day, to see if I have any of my youthful strength, or if I have lost it through suffering and want." The suitors were moved with desperate fear and anger. "Thou senseless beggar," said AntinoÖs, "is it not enough that we allow thee to sit at a banquet with the proudest men alive? Thou art drunk and thy mind wanders. What would come to thee if thou shouldst bend this bow? Verily we would sell thee for a slave to the great enemy of men." Then said Penelope: "Indeed, AntinoÖs, it is not large-minded to deny this poor old man the pleasure of trying the bow. "Dost thou think I would go forth as the wife of a beggar? Nay, the stranger has no hope of that. Do not let your minds be teased with such thoughts." Eurymachos, the leading suitor, rejoined: "Our care is not that thou wilt wed this man. But we fear the ridicule of the people, who will say, 'These are great men, indeed, who are outdone in strength and skill by a miserable old beggar.' It would be a never-ending shame to us." "Nay, Eurymachos," replied Penelope, "real shame comes on him who robs a good man and brings trouble to his family. This beggar claims to be of good blood, and his arm is sinewy. Let him try the bow. I make a solemn promise that if Apollo grant him the honor of bending the bow, I shall do no less than bestow upon him a tunic and a cloak, and sandals, and I will give him a sword with which he can defend himself. Then he can go where he likes." Telemachos saw that the great crisis was at hand. "Mother," he said, "it rests with me to give the bow or withhold it. Such matters belong to men, and in this palace the authority is mine. Take thy maids, then, and retire to thy apartments, and ply the tasks most suitable to women." The queen recognized her son's wisdom, and withdrew with her maids to the upper rooms. There she wept for the beloved monarch, her absent lord, until Athena sent a soothing sleep to comfort her. In the meanwhile the swineherd took up the bow and undertook to carry it to Odysseus. The suitors shouted their disapproval, and he became confused and set it down. Telemachos called out above the clamor and gave command for him to carry it along. The suitors laughed to hear the young man's voice ring out like a trumpet and drown all other noises. Odysseus took the bow and turned it from side to side, examining it in every part. Telemachos, in a low tone, bade Eurycleia make fast all the doors, and the master herdsman tied the gates of the outer court with a ship's cable. The suitors grew uneasy, and one of them said to another: "See the beggar, how he turns the bow this way and that! He would have us think that he is an expert in the use of bows." Odysseus stretched the cord and made it fast from end to end. He put it to his ear to try its tenseness as a minstrel tunes his harp. It sang like a bird. With perfect ease he drew the cord and let the arrow fly. It screamed like a swallow and went through every ring from the first one to the last. The suitors turned pale. Zeus sent a loud thunder-clap and Odysseus rejoiced at the omen. He sprang to the threshold with his bow in hand and a quiver full of arrows at his side, and shouted: "The contest is ended. Now I will choose another target." AntinoÖs had just put a golden goblet to his lips, and was about to drink the delicious wine. An arrow pierced his throat. He dropped the cup and fell to the ground, and as he fell his feet struck the table. The bread and meat were scattered in every direction over the floor. The suitors sprang to their feet and looked for the weapons on the walls. The spears were gone, and the lances and all the armor. Even yet they were blind to the fact that the stranger had slain AntinoÖs purposely. They poured out threats. "Fool," they said, "what art thou doing? How couldst thou be so careless! Thou hast slain the noblest man in Ithaca. Dogs and vultures shall devour thee. Never again shalt thou be allowed a trial with the bow." "Dogs," cried Odysseus, "ye little thought your chief would ever return from Troy, and therefore ye have robbed me of my wealth and vexed my wife with offers of marriage, regardless of the laws of god and man. But now the hour of your death has come and your doom is certain." The suitors trembled and looked for some open door through which to fly for safety. Only Eurymachos took courage to make a defence. "If thou art indeed Odysseus, thou hast good cause to complain of wrongs," he said. "But thou hast slain the leader, AntinoÖs, who prompted us to do these wrongs. He had no thought of love for thy wife. He wanted to gain thy land and rule over thy people. Spare the rest of us and we will make ample restitution." A dreadful frown spread over Odysseus' face, and he replied: "Eurymachos, I will not take thy wealth nor will I spare thy life. Now choose between the two, either to fight or fly from death. Be sure no suitor shall escape my vengeance." The suitors all grew faint with fear. Eurymachos cried out to them: "Ye Ithacans, this man will stand there at the door and shoot us all down one by one. Out with your swords! Hold up the tables for shields, and rush upon him, all of you, at once. Drive him out of the gates, and then hurry through the city and give a general alarm." With a fearful shout Eurymachos then drew his own sword and sprang toward Odysseus. A deadly arrow from the famous bow met him and he fell upon the table, upsetting it, and he went spinning round with it on the paved floor, while the food and cup of wine were scattered all about. His head struck upon a stone and his feet against a chair. Death closed his eyes. Another suitor drew his sword and rushed toward Odysseus. Telemachos met him with a lance and slew him. Then Telemachos sprang to his father's side and said: "My father, I will bring thee javelins and a shield, and I will arm myself and the swineherd and the master herdsmen." "Make haste, my son," responded Odysseus, "for I have but few arrows left." Telemachos hastened to the room where the arms had been stored and clothed himself in brass. His loyal herdsmen also put on splendid armor, and they hastened back to Odysseus with a complete outfit for him. The chief had used up his arrows, and now he dressed himself in armor and took the lances. Just then he perceived that the suitors had by some means been supplied with armor also. He called to Telemachos, who had left the door ajar leading to the apartment where the arms had been placed for safety. Melanthios, the goatherd, had sneaked in and was slyly bringing shields and helmets down to them. Telemachos saw him, and gave orders to the herdsmen to lock the doors of the armory and secure the spy. They hastened to the armory and found Melanthios, who had come back for a second load. They cast him on the floor and tied his arms down so that he could not move them. Then they took a rope and made two loops in it and swung him safely to the timbers in the roof, saying: "Melanthios, thou hast a soft bed, and it is where thou canst keep watch. In the morning thou canst drive thy goats to the suitors' banquet." They locked the doors and left him there and took their places at Odysseus' side.
CHAPTER XLIXDEATH OF THE SUITORSThe combat grew more stubborn. Athena, in the guise of Mentor, stood near Odysseus and cheered him on. "Woe unto thee, Mentor, if thou dost dare to help Odysseus," cried one of the suitors. "We will not spare thee when we have slain him. More yet, we will drive thy wife and children out of Ithaca and keep thy wealth." The goddess, in great anger at this audacity, turned toward Odysseus and said: "Thou art not so swift and terrible in fighting, O Chieftain, as thou wert before the walls of Troy." Athena said this to spur Odysseus on, but she did not remain at his side. She changed herself into a swallow and perched upon a rafter of the great hall, to put his prowess to a greater test. When she had gone, the suitors grew braver and threw their spears at Odysseus thick and fast. But their aim was uncertain, and they struck pillars and panels and the wall, for the goddess turned their shafts aside. Odysseus and Telemachos and their faithful servants hurled their lances, and the weapons always hit the mark. The cowherd struck Ktesippos in the breast and exclaimed, as the suitor fell: "Ktesippos, I give thee this spear in exchange for the ox's foot which thou didst throw at Odysseus as a gift when he asked alms of thee." Four of the wooers fell to the ground at once and the remainder retreated to the farthest corner of the hall. Still they rallied for another onset. Odysseus rushed in upon them and cut them down right and left, while Athena from above shook her fearful Ægis. The surviving wooers were stricken with terror and ran about like a herd of oxen chased by a swarm of gadflies. Only the minstrel Phemios and the herald Medon were spared. Both of them had served the suitors most unwillingly and had secretly advised with Telemachos. Odysseus searched up and down the hall to see if any suitor could be found alive. As fishes lie upon the beach when they have been poured out from the nets upon the sand, so lay the multitude of wooers. Not one survived. Then Odysseus called Eurycleia and bade her summon all of the impudent and unfaithful servants who had taken sides with the suitors. They came into the hall and with loud laments took up the slain and carried them out as they were commanded, and placed them in a walled court. Then they cleaned the hall with water and sponges, and polished the wood and set everything in order. When this was done, they were driven like a flock of birds into a narrow place outside and hung to a beam to die wretchedly. Melanthios also was brought down from the armory and cast among the dogs to die. The palace now was purged with the smoke of sulphur, and the air was purified with incense. The loyal servants crowded about their chieftain and welcomed him with glad salutations. They kissed his hands and face, and wept and laughed for joy. Odysseus was deeply moved and sobbed aloud.
CHAPTER LEURYCLEIA ANNOUNCES THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS TO PENELOPEEurycleia, with an exulting heart, now hurried up the lofty stairs and stood by the queen in her royal chamber. "Penelope," she cried, "my child, Odysseus has come. Thy husband is here, and he has slain the whole crew of insolent suitors who squandered his riches and scoffed at his son." Prudent Penelope answered her: "Eurycleia, thou art mad. The gods have taken thy wits away. Do not mock me with such idle tales. If any other maid had come on such an errand and waked me from sleep, I would have dismissed her with anger." "Nay, dear child, I do not mock thee; Odysseus has come and is now sitting by the hearth. The beggar whom they scoffed at in the hall was Odysseus. Telemachos knew it, but dared not tell thee until the suitors should be slain." Penelope rose from her couch and seized Eurycleia by the hands. "Tell me, dear nurse," she said, "tell me truly, if in fact my husband has returned, how was it possible that he alone could destroy such a multitude of haughty men!" "I did not see it," responded the old nurse, "but I heard the groans of the dying men as I sat with the other maids in our own rooms. The doors were locked to bar us from the hall. When Telemachos called me, I found Odysseus surrounded by the slain. When we had washed the hall and purged it with smoke and purified the air with incense, thy husband ordered me to call thee. Follow me now, my child, that your heart may be gladdened after it has been oppressed so long with sorrows." Penelope replied again: "Nay, I cannot believe it. The gods may have slain the suitors under the guise of Odysseus, but he has perished far away from home and never will return." "My daughter," said the aged nurse, "what words are these? I recognized Odysseus myself by the well-known scar made by the boar's tusk. I turned to tell thee, but he laid his finger on my lips and said: 'Be silent. Let no one know that I am here until the suitors all are slain, or else they will destroy me.' Now follow me. I pledge my life that I speak the truth." Penelope descended from her royal bower uncertain how to meet her lord. She crossed the threshold and sat down at the hearth, opposite Odysseus, who was seated beside a stately column in the blazing light of the fire. He did not lift his eyes to look at his wife, but waited for her to make the way open for him to speak. Penelope was speechless. She looked at her husband and seemed sometimes to recognize him, and then the resemblance faded out and he did not seem at all like Odysseus. Telemachos became impatient and spoke to her, chiding her. "Mother," he said, "thou art hard-hearted and unkind. Any other woman would extend a hearty welcome to her husband after he had suffered so many years of hardship, wandering in foreign lands. Take thy place at my father's side and question him. Verily thy heart is harder than a stone." "My son," answered Penelope, "I seem to have lost the power to speak. I am dazed and cannot even command myself to look at him. If this is indeed Odysseus we soon shall know each other, for there are secrets known to us two only." Odysseus smiled and said: "My son, be patient, and let thy mother put me to the test. She does not know me in these rags, but she will soon be convinced that I am Odysseus. It is more important now to prevent the news that the suitors have been slain from spreading. They have friends all over the city. Who knows but what they may rise up against us. I deem it best that we bathe and put on fresh garments, and let the servants do the same. "And let the minstrel bring his lyre and strike up such music as prompts the dance, so that those living near us may report that a wedding is being celebrated. Then we may safely venture forth and see what is to be done." Thus spoke the monarch, and his commands were gladly obeyed. Telemachos and the servants went their way to the baths and arrayed themselves in splendid clothing. The bard took his harp and woke the pleasing strains, and the palace halls resounded with mirth and dancing. After awhile those outside were heard to say: "Shame on Penelope! She weds a second time, and does not even know whether her absent lord is dead or living. She might have waited for him to return." Meantime Odysseus followed a servant to the bath, and when he had been bathed and anointed he put on garments suitable for a king. Athena gave him a more majestic appearance, and caused his hair to fall in heavy curls, like the petals of the hyacinth. When he came back to the great hall and stood before the queen, he looked like an immortal. "Lady," he said, "the gods have given thee a stubborn heart. Any other woman would have given a glad welcome to her husband after he had been absent twenty years." To this Penelope responded: "Not so; I have no pride nor a cold heart. But I should be unworthy of my lord if I accepted a stranger without putting him to the proof. I remember well when thou didst go to Troy. Thou didst command Eurycleia to carry thy massive bed out into the open air and cover it with fleeces." "Nay, woman, no living man could perform such a feat. I built that massive frame myself. It was a tall olive-tree that grew within one of the courts. Round it I built a royal bower, and, cutting off the great limbs of the tree, shaped them and fastened them to the trunk. In this wise I built the frame, and no one could move it without dragging the tree out by the roots. That is a secret known only to thee and me." Penelope had put the final test, and knew that this was surely Odysseus. She rose from where she sat and ran to him and threw her arms about his neck and kissed his brow. "Odysseus, do not be angry with me," she said. "Many are they who have tried to practise deception upon me. Thou hast made me believe in thee." These words pierced Odysseus' heart and brought him the relief of tears. He pressed his faithful wife to his bosom again and again.
CHAPTER LIODYSSEUS VISITS HIS FATHEREarly the next morning Odysseus dressed himself in his splendid armor and bade his son and servants accompany him to the farm. They took their weapons and went forth, Odysseus leading the way. It was not long before they came to the green fields which were cared for by Laertes. He had built his house there, and surrounded it with cabins, where his servants slept. Odysseus was anxious to know whether his father would recognize him or not, so he said to one of the men: "Go into the house and call my father. Let me see whether he will know me, after I have been so long away." Placing his weapons in their hands, he went down into the orchard. There were no servants about, for they had all gone off to gather thorns with which to build a fence. There Odysseus saw his father working around a young tree that he had just planted. He was clad in old, coarse clothes that had been repeatedly patched, a goat-skin cap, and gloves to protect his hands from the briers. It was pitiful to see the want of hope in the old man's face as he moved about brooding over his troubles. Odysseus was uncertain whether he should throw his arms about his father's neck and clasp him to his heart and kiss him, or whether it were better to question him. He approached Laertes gently and, having greeted him, said: "My friend, thou art a skilful farmer. Every fig and vine and pear and olive has been carefully trained. But no one seems to care for thee. Thy master treats thee badly, for thou art ill-clad and unkempt. An old man deserves better things. Thy face does not look like the face of a servant. Indeed one might take thee for a king. Now tell me, who owns this orchard? And tell me also if this land is Ithaca. I desire to learn what became of Odysseus, the son of Laertes. He was once my guest and one that I made most welcome." Laertes wept. "Thou art indeed in Ithaca, O stranger," he said. "But thou dost seek in vain for Odysseus. The land is full of wicked men, and there is no host to load thee with generous gifts, a recompense for thy hospitality. Oh, tell me of my son; when did he lodge with thee? Woe is me! The beasts and birds have long since devoured him. No mother folded his shroud about him, nor did his father or his loyal wife weep upon his bier. Tell me, what is thy name? Where is thy ship? How didst thou come here?" Odysseus was overcome with pity, and invented a tale to prepare Laertes for his unexpected coming. Then he clasped the dear old man in his arms and kissed his trembling hands, and said: "I am thy son, my father; I am the Odysseus of whom thou dost inquire. Here is the scar given me by the wild boar as I hunted on Parnassos. And for further proof I will tell thee of the orchard-trees thou gavest me when I was a child. There were thirteen pear-trees, forty fig-trees, and ten apple-trees. Forbear thy weeping and cease to mourn. I have slain the suitor-robbers who were destroying my riches, and I have taken possession of my house again." Overwhelmed with joy, the old king trembled from head to foot. The sturdy chieftain, Odysseus, saw it and drew him to his heart to keep him from fainting, and held him there until his strength came back. Then they went up to the house, where a supper had been prepared, and Telemachos was waiting. Laertes went to the bath and came back clad like a king. The grief had left his face, and he took on his old majestic appearance. As they sat at the banquet, relating the experiences of the past years, Dolius and his sons, the servants who had gone in search of thorns, returned. Dolius recognized Odysseus and seized him by the hand and saluted him with joyful greetings, and his sons gathered round the chieftain eager to take his hand. Meantime the souls of the suitors had gone down to the abode of Pluto. Hermes led them, and they followed, crying and wailing like bats in a dark cave. The shades of Achilles, Agamemnon, Ajax, and other heroes saw them and constrained them to relate the mishaps that had brought them there. Then Agamemnon's ghost responded: "Fortunate Odysseus! His fame shall last forever, and poets shall sing the praises of Penelope in all the coming ages." Ere Odysseus and Laertes had finished their feast, the news of the dreadful death of the suitors spread over the city. The wooers had many friends, and they came to the palace weeping and mourning, ready to avenge their slaughter. Finding that Odysseus was not at home, they proceeded to the market-place. The father of AntinoÖs arose and lifted up his voice crying for vengeance, but Medon, the herald, warned them that a god had taken part against them and that strife would be useless. Halitherses, a wise and reverend citizen, took up the word: "Ye men of Ithaca," he said, "give ear to what I have to say. Odysseus was not the cause of your misfortunes, but you, yourselves. Ye would not check the insolence of the suitors, even when Mentor bade you do it. Contend not with Odysseus nor bring down his wrath upon us." The Ithacans were now divided against themselves. Half of them took up arms to make war on Odysseus, and started for his father's house. In this adversity Athena did not forget her favorite chief, but armed herself, and, taking on the guise of Mentor, placed herself at Odysseus' side. A son of Dolius was first to announce that a crowd was marching against them, when they all arose quickly, donned their armor, and went outside. Then Odysseus cried out to Telemachos: "Now is the moment to show thyself a hero, my son. Do not bring disgrace upon thy forefathers, for they are renowned over the whole world for their bravery." Telemachos responded: "There is no danger of that, my dear father, as I shall show thee presently." When Laertes heard this he rejoiced and said: "This is a happy day for me. How blest am I to see my son and grandson rivals in brave deeds." Athena now drew near to the old king, and inspired him with youthful courage. He swung his spear aloft and threw it at the leader of the host and smote him to the earth. Odysseus and Telemachos rushed into the fray with double-edged swords. They would have made an end of the whole multitude, but Athena called aloud: "People of Ithaca, cease from fighting! Retire at once from this contest and shed no more blood." The Ithacans grew pale with fright at hearing the voice of the goddess. They threw down their weapons and ran toward the city in a panic of fear. Odysseus shouted in triumph as he gave chase, but Zeus sent a thunder-bolt down as a sign to Athena that she should restrain him. The goddess called to him to cease the pursuit, and, taking the guise of Mentor, she moved the minds of Odysseus and his enemies to mutual pledges of peace and good-will. |