Book II

1When Dawn appeared, the early-born, with fingers of rose,¹

the dear son of Odysseus rose up from his bed,

put on his clothes, slung his sharp sword about his shoulder,

bound the beautiful sandals beneath his shining feet,

5and came out of his bedroom looking like a god.

At once he ordered the clear-voiced heralds

to cry the long-haired Achaeans into assembly.

The heralds cried the summons, and the men gathered quickly.

And when they were assembled, all in one gathering,

10he went to the assembly, the bronze spear in his palm,

not alone: two swift dogs followed with him,

and Athena poured a wondrous grace upon him.

All the people gazed at him in wonder as he came;

he sat in his father's seat, and the elders gave way.²

15Then the hero Aegyptius was first to speak among them,³

a man bent with age, who knew things past numbering.

His own dear son had gone with godlike Odysseus

in the hollow ships to Ilium of the fine horses —

Antiphus the spearman; the savage Cyclops killed him

20in his hollow cave, and made of him his last supper.

Three other sons he had: one kept company with the suitors —

Eurynomus — and two worked their father's lands always.

Even so, he could not forget the one: grieving, mourning him.

In tears for him, he now addressed the assembly:

25"Hear me now, men of Ithaca, hear what I say.⁴

Never once has our assembly met, has our council sat,

since noble Odysseus went away in the hollow ships.

Who has gathered us now? On whom has need come down so hard,

whether among the young men or the elder-born?

30Has he heard some news of the army coming home

which he might tell us plainly, having learned of it first?

Or is there some other public matter he would open and argue?

A good man he seems to me, a blessed one. May Zeus

accomplish for him some good — whatever his heart desires."

35So he spoke, and the dear son of Odysseus rejoiced at the omen of the word,⁵

and sat no longer: desire took him to speak.

He stood in the middle of the assembly, and the scepter was put in his hand⁶

by the herald Peisenor, a man of clear-headed counsel.

Then he spoke, turning first to the old man:

40"Old sir, that man is not far off — you shall see for yourself —

who called the people: it is I; grief comes down hardest on me.

I have heard no news of the army coming home

which I might tell you plainly, having learned of it first,

nor is there other public matter I would open and argue:

45it is my own need, the evils fallen on my house —

twofold. I have lost my noble father, who once was king

among you here, and he was gentle as a father;

and now something far greater, which will soon tear apart

my whole house utterly and destroy my living altogether.

50Suitors have set upon my mother — against her will —

the own dear sons of the men who here are noblest,

and they shrink from going to the house of her father

Icarius, so that he might set his daughter's bride-terms himself⁷

and give her to whom he will, whoever comes and pleases her.

55Instead they haunt our house day after day,

slaughtering our oxen and our sheep and our fat goats,

feasting and drinking the fire-bright wine

with no reckoning. And the most of it is wasted. For there is no man here

such as Odysseus was, to beat ruin away from the house.

60We are not the men to beat it back — believe me, ever after

we would be pitiable men, and unschooled in fighting.

Beat it back I would, if only the strength were in me!

For what is done here is past all bearing; past all decency

my house is ruined. Feel the outrage yourselves;

65feel shame before the peoples who are our neighbors,

those who dwell around us; and dread the wrath of the gods,

lest in fury at evil deeds they turn them back on your heads.

I beg you — by Olympian Zeus, and by Themis,⁸

who dissolves the assemblies of men and seats them —

70hold off, friends! Leave me alone to waste away

in my bitter grief. Unless perhaps my father, good Odysseus,

in malice did the strong-greaved Achaeans harm,

and in requital you do me harm in malice,

egging these men on. Better for me by far

75if it were you yourselves devouring my treasures and my herds:

were you the ones eating, there might one day be repayment,

for then we would go up and down the town pressing our claim,

demanding our goods back, until all was given over.

Instead you heap on my heart pains past any remedy."

80So he spoke in anger, and dashed the scepter to the ground,⁹

bursting into tears. And pity took hold of all the people.

Then all the rest stayed silent, and no one dared

to answer Telemachus with hard words;

Antinous alone made him this answer:

85"Telemachus, high talker, temper past restraining — what a thing you have said,¹⁰

smearing us with shame! You would love to hang the blame on us.

But it is not the Achaean suitors who are at fault:

it is your own dear mother, whose cunning has no equal.

For it is the third year now, and the fourth soon coming,

90that she has cheated the heart in the Achaeans' breasts.

She gives hope to all, and makes promises to every man,

sending out messages — while her mind wills otherwise.

And here is another trick her heart devised:¹¹

she set up a great loom in the halls and wove at it,

95fine-threaded, beyond all measure wide, and told us straightway:

'Young men, my suitors — since noble Odysseus is dead,

wait, though you burn for my wedding, till I finish

this cloth — let my spinning not be wasted on the wind —

a shroud for the hero Laertes, against the day

100the ruinous doom of death that lays men low will take him:

let no Achaean woman in the land hold it against me

that a man who won so much should lie without his winding-sheet.'¹²

So she spoke, and our proud hearts were persuaded.

Then every day she wove at the great loom,

105and every night she unwove it by torchlight.

Three years her trick escaped us, and she kept the Achaeans persuaded;

but when the fourth year came, as the seasons rolled on,

then one of her women, who knew it all, told us,

and we caught her unweaving the shining web.

110So she finished it — against her will, under force.

Now the suitors give you this answer, so that you may know it

in your own heart, and all the Achaeans know it:

send your mother away. Command her to marry

whichever man her father bids, and who pleases her.

115But if she goes on tormenting the sons of the Achaeans —

minding in her heart the gifts Athena gave her beyond all women,

skill in beautiful work, and a noble mind,

and cunning past anything we hear of even in the women of old,

the fair-braided Achaean women of the time before,

120Tyro and Alcmene and Mycene of the lovely crown:¹³

not one of them had thoughts to match Penelope's —

yet this one thought of hers was not well thought.

For just so long will men devour your living and your goods

as she holds to this purpose the gods are setting

125now in her breast. Great fame she is making

for herself — and for you, the ache of a squandered living.

We are not going to our estates, or anywhere else,

before she marries whichever Achaean she will."

Then clear-headed Telemachus answered him:

130"Antinous, there is no way I can thrust out of the house, unwilling,

the one who bore me, who raised me — while my father, somewhere on earth,

lives or is dead. And it would go hard with me to pay back

Icarius so much, if of my own accord I send my mother home.

From her father I would suffer evil; and heaven would add

135more, since my mother, leaving the house, would call down

the loathed Furies; and the blame of men would be¹⁴

upon me. No: I will never speak that word.

As for you — if your own hearts feel any shame at it,

get out of my halls. Go busy yourselves with other feasts,

140eating your own goods, moving from house to house.

But if this seems to you the better thing, the more profitable,

that one man's living be destroyed and nothing paid,

then carve away. And I will cry to the gods who live forever,

in hope that Zeus may grant deeds of requital come to pass:

145then you would die inside this house, and nothing paid for you."¹⁵

So spoke Telemachus. And Zeus of the wide voice sent him two eagles,¹⁶

flying from on high, from a mountain peak.

For a while the two flew on with the breath of the wind,

close by one another, wings at full stretch;

150but when they came dead over the many-voiced assembly,¹⁷

they wheeled there, beating their wings thick and fast,

and glared down on all their heads, and death was in their gaze;

then they ripped with their talons at each other's cheeks and throats

and shot away rightward, over the houses and the town.

155The men were astonished at the birds their eyes had seen,

and turned over in their hearts what this would bring to pass.

And among them spoke the old hero Halitherses,

Mastor's son, who surpassed all men of his day

in reading birds and speaking what fate intends.

160With good will toward them he spoke to the assembly:

"Hear me now, men of Ithaca, hear what I say —

though to the suitors above all I declare it:

on them a great wave of ruin is rolling. For Odysseus

will not be long parted from his people; already, somewhere

165near, he is planting death and slaughter for these men,

every one; and evil will come on many of the rest of us

who live in clear-skied Ithaca. Long before that,

let us think how to stop them — or let them stop

themselves: the sooner the better, for their own sake.

170I prophesy as no novice; I know my art.

And for that man too I say it is all coming home,

all I told him when the Argives went up into Ilium

and Odysseus of the many designs went with them.

I said that after long suffering, his companions all lost,

175unknown to everyone, in the twentieth year¹⁸

he would come home. And now it is all being accomplished."

Then Eurymachus, Polybus' son, answered him:

"Old man, off with you — go home and prophesy to your children,

lest some evil overtake them in days to come.

180In this I am a far better prophet than you.

Plenty of birds go back and forth beneath the rays of the sun,¹⁹

and not all of them are fate. As for Odysseus:

he is dead, far away — and how I wish that you had perished with him.

You would not then be spouting all this prophecy,

185or whetting the anger of Telemachus —

angling for some gift for your household, should he offer one.

But I will tell you this, and it will be accomplished:

if you, who know so many things grown old with you,

talk a younger man around with words and stir him to fury,

190for the man himself, first, it will go the harder,

and in any case he will accomplish nothing for all these words;

and on you, old man, we will lay a fine that in the paying

will gall your heart: and the pain of it will be hard.

And to Telemachus, before you all, my own advice is this:

195let him command his mother to go back to her father's house.

There they will make the marriage and set out the bride-gifts,

very many, all that should follow a beloved child.

Not before, I think, will the sons of the Achaeans quit

their courting — a grinding courtship. We fear no one, not at all;

200no, not Telemachus, for all his stream of words;

nor do we care a whit for prophecy, old man, that you

mouth to no accomplishment — it only makes you the more hated.

His goods will be devoured as badly as ever, and never made good,

so long as she puts the Achaeans off about

205her marriage. And we, waiting all our days,

rival one another for her excellence, and do not go after

other women, fit brides for any of us."

Then clear-headed Telemachus answered him:

"Eurymachus, and all you other haughty suitors:

210I plead with you no further; I say no more of this.

The gods know it now, and all the Achaeans.

But come, give me a fast ship and twenty companions

to carry me on a journey there and back again.

For I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos

215to ask after the homecoming of my long-gone father,

in hope some mortal man will tell me, or I may hear the Rumor

that comes from Zeus, which most of all carries word among men.²⁰

If I hear my father is alive and homeward bound,

then, ground down as I am, I could hold out one more year;

220but if I hear that he is dead, that he is no more,

then I will come back to my own dear fatherland

and heap his burial mound, and over it pay the death-rites,

very many, as is fitting, and give my mother to a husband."

So he spoke, and sat down. And there rose among them

225Mentor, the companion of blameless Odysseus,²¹

to whom, going aboard his ships, he had entrusted his whole house —

that all should obey the old man, and he keep everything safe.

With good will toward them he spoke to the assembly:

"Hear me now, men of Ithaca, hear what I say.

230Let no sceptered king ever again be willingly

kind and gentle, or know the right way in his heart;

let him rather be harsh always, and act outrage —

since no one remembers godlike Odysseus

among the people he ruled, and he was gentle as a father.

235It is not the lordly suitors I begrudge, not really,

for their deeds of violence woven in an evil-scheming mind:

they lay their own heads on the wager when they devour²²

by violence the house of Odysseus, saying he will come home no more.

It is the rest of the people I am angry at — the way you all

240sit there dumb, and never fasten on them with words

and stop them: the suitors few, and you so many."

Then Leocritus, Evenor's son, answered him:

"Mentor, wrecker, brain gone wandering — what a thing you have said,

urging them to stop us. It is heavy work

245to fight with men over a feast — men who outnumber you at that.

Why, if Ithacan Odysseus himself came in on us

and found the lordly suitors feasting in his house

and set his heart on driving them out of the hall,

his wife would have no joy of his coming, however

250she has ached for him: right there he would meet an ugly death,²³

if he fought men who outnumbered him. What you have said misses the mark.

Come now — people, scatter, each man to his own work.

As for this one, Mentor and Halitherses can speed his journey,

being companions of his father's house from the beginning.

255Though I think he will sit here a long while yet, gathering his news

in Ithaca; that voyage he will never make."

So he spoke, and dissolved the assembly on the instant.

They scattered, each man to his own house,

and the suitors went off to the house of godlike Odysseus.

260But Telemachus walked apart, to the sand-beach of the sea,

washed his hands in the gray salt water, and prayed to Athena:

"Hear me, you who came yesterday, a god, into our house,

and bade me go by ship over the misted sea

to ask after the homecoming of my long-gone father.

265All of it the Achaeans grind to a halt —

the suitors most of all, in their evil overbearing pride."

So he prayed, and Athena came to him, close at hand,

in the likeness of Mentor, both his body and his voice,

and lifting her voice she spoke winged words to him:

270"Telemachus, you will be no coward from this day, and no fool,

if any of your father's brave force is instilled in you —

such a man he was for making good both deed and word.

Then this journey of yours will be no idle errand, and not unaccomplished.

But if you are not his son, his and Penelope's,

275then I have no hope you will accomplish what you set your heart on.

Few sons, in truth, turn out the equals of their fathers:²⁴

the most are worse; a few are better men than their fathers.

But since you will be no coward from this day, and no fool,

and the cunning of Odysseus has not wholly failed in you,

280there is every hope you will accomplish this work.

So now let the suitors' plotting and scheming go —

mindless men, with neither sense nor justice in them:

they know nothing of the death and the black doom

that stands close by them, to destroy them all in a day.

285The journey you have set your heart on will not be long delayed —

such a companion am I, out of your father's house:

I will fit out a fast ship for you, and come along myself.

You go back to the house now, and move among the suitors;

make ready provisions, and stow them all in vessels —

290wine in two-handled jars, and barley meal, the marrow of men,²⁵

in tight-sewn skins. And I, through the town,

will gather willing companions, and quickly. There are ships

in plenty in sea-circled Ithaca, new ships and old:

I will look them over for you and choose the best,

295and we will rig her fast and launch her on the wide sea."

So spoke Athena, daughter of Zeus. And no longer then

did Telemachus linger, once he had heard the voice of the god.

He went on his way to the house, his heart heavy within him,

and found the lordly suitors there in the halls,

300skinning goats and singeing fat hogs in the courtyard.

Antinous came laughing straight at Telemachus,

clamped a hand on his, and spoke a word, and named him:

"Telemachus, high talker, temper past restraining — let no other

evil trouble your breast, no other deed or word.

305Just eat with me, and drink, the way it used to be.

The Achaeans will see to all those things of yours —

a ship and picked oarsmen — so you may come the sooner

to holy Pylos, after news of your proud father."

Then clear-headed Telemachus answered him:

310"Antinous, there is no way, among you in your insolence,

to eat my supper quietly and take my ease in peace.

Is it not enough that all this while, suitors, you carved up

my goods, so many and so fine, while I was still a child?

Now — when I am grown, and hear the talk of other men

315and understand it, and the spirit swells inside me —

I will try to hurl an evil doom upon you,

whether I go to Pylos or stay here in this land.

But go I will, and the journey I speak of will be no idle errand —

a passenger on another's ship, since master of ship or oarsmen²⁶

320I am not to be. That, no doubt, seemed the more profitable to you."

He spoke, and wrenched his hand from Antinous' hand,

easily. And through the house the suitors busied themselves with the feast,

and they mocked him and needled him with words.

And thus would one of the arrogant young men say:

325"No question — Telemachus is planning our murder!

He will bring back avengers from sandy Pylos,

or else from Sparta, since he is so terribly set on it.

Or maybe he means to go to Ephyra, that rich plowland,²⁷

to fetch home poisons that eat the life away,

330and drop them in the wine-bowl, and destroy us all."

And thus would another of the arrogant young men say:

"Who knows? Maybe he too, once aboard the hollow ship,

will wander far from his people and be lost — just like Odysseus.

And that would double our work, wouldn't it:

335we would have to divide all his goods among us, and the house itself

hand over to his mother — hers, and the man who marries her."²⁸

So they talked. But he went down to his father's storeroom,

high-ceilinged and broad, where gold and bronze lay piled,

and clothing in chests, and fragrant oil in plenty;

340and there stood great jars of old wine, sweet to drink,

holding the unmixed divine drink within them,

ranged in order along the wall — against the day Odysseus

might come home even after all his pains.²⁹

Doors were on it, close-fitted, bolted fast,

345double doors; and a woman-steward was there night and day

who guarded it all with her mind's deep knowledge:

Eurycleia, daughter of Ops, Peisenor's son.

Telemachus called her into the storeroom and spoke to her:

"Nurse, come — draw me off wine in two-handled jars,³⁰

350the sweet wine, the finest-tasting after that

which you keep, thinking of him — the luckless one — if from somewhere he should come:

Zeus-born Odysseus, having slipped past death and the dooms.

Fill twelve, and fit them all with lids.

And pour me barley meal into well-sewn skins:

355twenty measures of mill-crushed barley grain.

Keep this to yourself. And let it all stand gathered:

in the evening I will fetch it, when at last

my mother climbs to her upper room and thinks of sleep.

For I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos

360to ask after my dear father's homecoming, if I may hear of it."

So he spoke, and his dear nurse Eurycleia wailed aloud,

and grieving she spoke winged words to him:

"Why, dear child, why has this thought come into

your mind? Where would you go across the wide earth,

365an only son, and beloved? He is dead far from home —

Zeus-born Odysseus, in some strangers' country.

And these men, the moment you are gone, will plot evils behind you,

to kill you by treachery and divide all this among themselves.

Stay here instead, sitting on what is yours. There is no need

370to suffer evils on the barren sea, and go wandering."

Then clear-headed Telemachus answered her:

"Take heart, nurse. This plan is not without a god.³¹

But swear you will not breathe a word to my dear mother

before the eleventh day has come, or the twelfth,

375or she misses me herself and hears that I am gone —

so she will not mar her lovely skin with weeping."

So he spoke, and the old woman swore the great oath of the gods.

And when she had sworn and made an end of the oath,

straightway she drew off wine for him in two-handled jars

380and poured him barley meal into well-sewn skins;

and Telemachus went back to the hall to move among the suitors.

Then the goddess thought of one thing more, gray-eyed Athena.

In the likeness of Telemachus she went everywhere through the town,³²

and standing beside each man she spoke her word,

385bidding them gather at evening by the fast ship.

Then she asked Noemon, the shining son of Phronius,

for a fast ship; and he promised it gladly.

The sun went down, and all the ways grew dark.³³

Then she hauled the fast ship down to the sea, and stowed in her

390all the gear that well-benched ships carry,

and moored her at the harbor's edge. Around her the brave companions

gathered in a body, and the goddess set each man's heart on fire.

Then the goddess thought of one thing more, gray-eyed Athena.

She went on her way to the house of godlike Odysseus,

395and there she poured sweet sleep over the suitors,

addled them as they drank, and knocked the cups from their hands.

They stumbled off to sleep through the town, and sat no longer,

for sleep was falling on their eyelids.

But to Telemachus gray-eyed Athena spoke,

400calling him out in front of the well-settled halls,

in the likeness of Mentor, both his body and his voice:

"Telemachus, your strong-greaved companions are already

sitting at the oars, waiting on your word to start.

Come, let us go; let us not hold the journey long."

405So speaking, Pallas Athena led the way

swiftly, and he followed in the footsteps of the god.

And when they had come down to the ship and the sea,

they found the long-haired companions on the beach,

and the sacred strength of Telemachus spoke among them:³⁴

410"Come, friends, let us fetch the provisions: everything now

stands gathered in the hall. My mother has heard nothing,

nor the slave-women either; one alone was told."

So speaking he led the way, and they went with him.

They carried everything down and stowed it in the well-benched ship

415as the dear son of Odysseus commanded.

Then Telemachus went aboard, Athena going before him;

she sat down in the stern of the ship, and close beside her

sat Telemachus. And the men cast off the stern-lines

and came aboard themselves and took their places at the oarlocks.

420And gray-eyed Athena sent them a following wind,

a fresh West Wind, singing over the wine-dark sea.

Telemachus shouted to his companions, commanding them

to lay hands on the rigging, and they heard his urging:

they raised the pine mast and stepped it inside the hollow mast-box,

425set it up and made it fast with the forestays,

and hauled up the white sails by the well-twisted ox-hide ropes.

The wind bellied out the middle of the sail, and the wave

hissed dark and loud around the keel as the ship went on,

and she ran down the waves, making her way.

430Then, when they had lashed the tackle down the fast black ship,

they set up mixing-bowls crowned brim-full with wine

and poured to the deathless gods who are forever,

and beyond all others to the gray-eyed daughter of Zeus.

All night long, and into the dawn, the ship cut her way.³⁵