Book XVII

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

then Telemachus bound the beautiful sandals under his feet —

Telemachus, dear son of godlike Odysseus —

and took his strong spear, which fitted his palm well,

5straining toward the city; and he spoke to his swineherd:

"Old father, I am off to the town, so my mother

may see me. I do not think she will leave off

her hateful weeping and her tearful mourning before

she sees me in the flesh. And this is my charge to you:

10take this luckless stranger to the city, so there

he can beg his dinner; whoever wishes will give him

a crust and a cupful. I cannot carry every man

who comes, not I — I have griefs enough at heart.

And if the stranger takes it hard, so much the worse

15for him. I like to say the truth of things straight out."²

Then Odysseus of the many designs answered him:

"Friend, I have no wish myself to be kept back here.

Better for a beggar to beg his dinner in the town

than in the fields; whoever wishes will give to me.

20I am no longer of an age for staying on at farmsteads,

obeying in everything the word of an overseer.

Go on, then. This man will bring me, as you order,

as soon as I have warmed myself at the fire, and the sun's heat comes.³

These clothes I have are terribly bad: the morning frost

25might be too much for me — and the town, you say, is far."

So he spoke; and Telemachus went out through the farmstead,

stepping fast, planting evils for the suitors.

And when he reached the well-settled house,

he set his spear against a tall pillar, carrying it in,

30and went inside himself, over the stone threshold.

And far the first to see him was the nurse Eurycleia,⁴

spreading fleeces over the inlaid chairs;

with a burst of tears she came straight toward him, and around him

the other slave-women of enduring-hearted Odysseus

35gathered, and kissed his head and shoulders, welcoming him.

And out of her chamber came watchful-minded Penelope,

like Artemis, or golden Aphrodite,⁵

and threw her arms around her dear son, weeping,

and kissed his head, and both his beautiful eyes,

40and sobbing spoke winged words to him:

"You have come, Telemachus — sweet light! I told myself⁶

I would never see you again, once you had gone by ship to Pylos —

secretly, against my will, for news of your dear father.

Come now, tell me over: what sight of him did you meet?"

45Then clear-headed Telemachus answered her:

"Mother mine, do not stir up weeping in me, nor rouse

the heart in my breast — I have just escaped sheer death.

No: bathe, and take clean clothing for your body,

and go up to the upper room with your attendant women,

50and vow to all the gods that you will offer perfect

hecatombs, if Zeus may some day accomplish works of requital.

And I will go to the assembly-place, to call in

a guest who followed with me as I traveled here.

I sent him on ahead with my godlike companions,

55and told Piraeus to take him home with him

and care for him kindly, and honor him, until I come."

So he spoke; and for her the word stayed wingless.⁷

And she bathed, and took clean clothing for her body,

and vowed to all the gods that she would offer perfect

60hecatombs, if Zeus might some day accomplish works of requital.

Then Telemachus went on out through the hall,

spear in hand; 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;⁸

65and around him the lordly suitors gathered,

speaking him fair, but brooding evils deep in their hearts.

He slipped away from their thick crowd

and went where Mentor sat, and Antiphus, and Halitherses,⁹

who were his father's companions from the beginning,

70and sat down there; and they questioned him on everything.

And Piraeus, famous for the spear, came near them,

leading his guest through the town to the assembly-place; and Telemachus

did not stand off long from his guest, but went to him.

And Piraeus spoke to him first:

75"Telemachus, send women to my house at once,

so I can send you back the gifts Menelaus gave you."

Then clear-headed Telemachus answered him:

"Piraeus — we do not know yet how these matters will fall.¹⁰

If the lordly suitors kill me in my halls

80by treachery, and divide up all my father's goods,

I would rather you keep the gifts and have the joy of them

than any of those men. But if I plant death and doom for them,

then bring them, glad, to my house — and glad I shall be."

So speaking, he led the travel-worn stranger home.

85And when they reached the well-settled house,

they laid their mantles down on the couches and chairs

and stepped into the polished baths and bathed.

And when the slave-women had bathed them and rubbed them with oil,

and thrown about them fleecy cloaks and tunics,

90they came out of the baths and sat down on the couches.

A handmaid brought water for their hands in a pitcher,

a beautiful golden one, and poured it over a silver basin

for them to wash, and drew up a polished table beside them.

The grave housekeeper brought bread and set it before them,

95laying out delicacies in plenty, giving gladly of her store;

and his mother sat opposite, by the pillar of the hall,

leaning back in her chair, spinning fine threads of yarn.¹¹

And their hands went out to the good things spread before them.

But when they had put away desire for food and drink,

100watchful-minded Penelope began to speak among them:

"Telemachus, I am going up to my upper room

to lie on the bed that has become a bed of groaning for me,¹²

forever stained with my tears, since the day Odysseus

went with the sons of Atreus to Ilium. And you have not brought yourself,

105before the lordly suitors come back into this house,

to tell me plainly of your father's homecoming — if you heard anything."

Then clear-headed Telemachus answered her:

"Then I will tell you, mother, the truth of it.¹³

We went to Pylos, and to Nestor, shepherd of the people;

110and he received me in his high house

and gave me loving welcome, as a father would his son

come home at last from far away: with such

kindness he tended me, he and his glorious sons.

But of enduring-hearted Odysseus, alive or dead,

115he said he had heard nothing from anyone on earth.

He sent me on, with horses and a bolted chariot,

to Atreus' son, Menelaus famed for the spear.

There I saw Argive Helen, for whose sake

the Argives and the Trojans labored so much, by the gods' will.

120And Menelaus of the great war-cry asked me at once

what need had brought me to shining Lacedaemon;

and I told him the whole truth of it.

And then he answered me with these words:

'Shame on them! Truly in the bed of a strong-hearted man

125they want to lie — the spineless creatures that they are!

As when a deer beds down her newborn suckling fawns¹⁴

in the thicket-lair of a mighty lion,

and goes questing the spurs and grassy hollows,

grazing — and then the lion comes back to his own bed

130and lets an ugly doom loose on them both:

so Odysseus will let an ugly doom loose on those men.

If only — father Zeus, Athena, Apollo! —

the man he was long ago in strong-founded Lesbos,

when he rose on a challenge and wrestled Philomeleides

135and threw him hard, and all the Achaeans cheered:

such as he was then, let that Odysseus close with the suitors:

quick would their fates be then, and bitter their weddings.

As for what you ask of me and beg me: I will not

talk around it, swerving aside, and I will not deceive you.

140What the unerring Old Man of the Sea told me,

not one word of it will I hide or cover from you.

He said he saw him on an island, in strong pain,

in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him there

by force; and he cannot come to his own fatherland,

145for he has no ships at hand, no oars, no companions

to carry him over the broad back of the sea.'

So spoke Atreus' son, Menelaus famed for the spear.

That done, I came away; and the deathless ones gave me

a breeze, and brought me quickly to my own dear country."

150So he spoke, and stirred the heart in her breast.

And godlike Theoclymenus spoke among them too:

"Honored wife of Laertes' son Odysseus,

truly he does not know it plainly. Mark my word:

I will prophesy to you exactly, and hide nothing.

155Zeus be witness now, first of the gods, and this table of guest-right,¹⁵

and this hearth of blameless Odysseus to which I have come:

Odysseus is already in his own dear country —

sitting still, or moving — learning of these evil doings,

and planting evil for all the suitors.

160So clear was the bird of omen I marked

as I sat on the well-benched ship, and I cried it out to Telemachus."

Then watchful-minded Penelope answered him:

"Ah, stranger, if only that word might be accomplished:¹⁶

then you would quickly know my friendship, and gifts

165in plenty from me — any man who met you would call you blessed."

So they spoke to one another of such things.

But the suitors, in front of Odysseus' hall,

were amusing themselves with discus and javelin throws

on the leveled ground, insolent as ever, where they always played.¹⁷

170But when it was dinner-time, and the flocks came in

from the fields all around, led by the men who always led them,

then Medon spoke to them — for he of all the heralds

pleased them best, and was always by them at the feast:

"Young men — now that you have all delighted your hearts with games,

175come toward the house, so we can lay the meal.

There is nothing the worse in a dinner taken on time."

So he spoke; and they rose and went, and obeyed his word.

And when they reached the well-settled house,

they laid their mantles down on the couches and chairs

180and slaughtered big sheep and fat goats,

slaughtered sleek hogs and a heifer of the herd,

making their meal ready. And meanwhile from the country

Odysseus and the noble swineherd were stirring themselves

to go to the city; and the swineherd began, a leader of men:

185"Stranger — since you are set on going to the town

today, as my master ordered — though for myself

I would rather have left you here to guard the farmstead,

but him I respect and fear: he might scold me

afterward, and a master's reproofs are hard to bear —¹⁸

190come then, let us be off: the day is mostly

gone already, and toward evening you will feel the cold."

Then Odysseus of the many designs answered him:

"I know. I understand. You order a man who is thinking it too.¹⁹

Let us go, then — and you lead the whole way through.

195And give me a staff to lean on, if you have one

cut anywhere, since you say the road is treacherous."

He spoke, and slung about his shoulders his beggar's pouch,

full of holes, hanging by a twisted cord,

and Eumaeus gave him a stick that suited him.²⁰

200The two set out; and the dogs and the herdsmen stayed

behind, guarding the farm. And he led his master toward the city

in the likeness of a beggar, wretched and old,

leaning on a stick, with miserable clothing on his body.

But when, making their way down the rugged road,

205they were near the town, and came to the fountain,

well-built, fair-flowing, where the people of the town drew water —

made by Ithacus and Neritus and Polyctor;²¹

around it stood a grove of water-nourished poplars,

circling it on every side, and the cold water ran down

210from the rock above; and on top an altar was built

to the nymphs, where all wayfarers made their offerings —

there Melanthius the son of Dolius overtook them,²²

driving his goats, the ones that stood out in all the herds,

a dinner for the suitors; and two herdsmen followed with him.

215Seeing the pair he broke out against them — named them

in words beyond all bounds, indecent — and it stirred Odysseus' heart:

"Now here is the vile leading the vile, no mistake —

as ever, the god is bringing like and like together!²³

Where are you taking that glutton, you pitiful swineherd,

220that beggar-pest, that licker of feast-plates?²⁴

He is the sort to stand rubbing his shoulders on many doorposts,

whining for scraps — not for swords and cauldrons.

Give him to me, to keep watch over my farmstead,

to sweep the pens and carry green shoots to the kids —

225and drinking whey he might put some meat on that thigh.

But no: he has learned bad ways, and he will not

set himself to work; he would rather cringe through the town

begging, to feed that bottomless belly of his.

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

230if he comes to the house of godlike Odysseus,

many the footstools flying round his head from men's hands²⁵

that his ribs will wear away with, pelted through the house."

So he spoke; and passing, the fool, he lashed out a heel

at his hip — yet did not knock him off the path:

235he stood there, steady. And Odysseus weighed it —²⁶

whether to spring after him and take his life with the stick,

or lift him by the middle and dash his head against the ground.

But he mastered himself, and held it in. And the swineherd

rebuked the man to his face, and lifting his hands prayed aloud:

240"Nymphs of the spring, daughters of Zeus — if ever Odysseus²⁷

burned thigh-pieces for you, wrapped in rich fat,

of lambs or of kids, grant me this my prayer:

that the man himself come back, and a god guide him home.

He would scatter all those airs of yours,

245every one — that you now wear so insolently, forever drifting

around the town, while bad herdsmen ruin the flocks."

Then Melanthius the goatherd answered him:

"Well, well! How the cur talks — nothing but mischief in him!

One day I will take him on a black well-benched ship

250far from Ithaca, where he could fetch me a good living.

If only Apollo of the silver bow would strike Telemachus²⁸

today in the halls, or the suitors bring him down,

as surely as for Odysseus, far away, the day of homecoming is dead!"

So speaking he left them there, walking slowly on,

255and strode off, and came very quickly to the master's house.

He went straight in and sat down among the suitors,

opposite Eurymachus: for him he loved best of all.²⁹

The serving-men set a portion of meat beside him,

and the grave housekeeper brought bread and set it by him

260to eat. And meanwhile Odysseus and the noble swineherd

came up close and stopped; and around them came the ringing

of the hollow lyre: for Phemius was striking up

his song among them. And Odysseus took the swineherd's hand and said:

"Eumaeus — surely this is the beautiful house of Odysseus.³⁰

265Easy it is to know it, to pick out at a glance among many.

One part is joined to another; the courtyard is finished

with wall and coping; the double doors are strong

and well-fenced. No man could storm it with contempt.

And I can tell that a crowd of men is feasting

270in it: the smell of roasting rises, and the lyre

is ringing there, which the gods made companion to the feast."

And you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:

"Easily known — you, who are not slow-witted in anything else.

But come, let us think how these things are to go.

275Either you go first into the well-settled house

and slip in among the suitors, and I stay behind here;

or, if you like, you wait, and I go on ahead.

But do not linger long, or someone may see you outside

and throw something, or strike you. Think on it, I say."

280Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:

"I know. I understand. You order a man who is thinking it too.

You go on ahead; I will stay behind here.

I am not unacquainted with blows and peltings:

my heart is a patient one — I have suffered much evil

285from waves and from war. Let this be added to the rest.

But a ravening belly there is no hiding away,³¹

that accursed thing, which gives so many evils to men;

for its sake even the well-benched ships are rigged

to cross the barren sea, bearing evil to enemies."

290So they spoke to one another of such things.

And a dog lying there lifted his head and ears:

Argus, the dog of enduring-hearted Odysseus, whom once he³²

raised himself — and had no joy of him: too soon he was gone

to holy Ilium. In the old days the young men took him

295out after wild goats, and roe deer, and hares;

now he lay neglected, his master gone away,

on the deep pile of dung that the mules and cattle³³

dropped in heaps before the doors, until Odysseus' slaves

could cart it off to manure his great estate.

300There lay the dog Argus, covered with dog-ticks.

And now, as he sensed Odysseus near him,

he wagged his tail, and laid both his ears back flat,

but no longer had the strength to come any closer

to his master. And Odysseus, glancing aside, wiped away a tear —³⁴

305easily hidden from Eumaeus — and at once he questioned him:

"Eumaeus — a strange thing: this dog lying on the dung-heap.

His frame is beautiful; though this I cannot tell for certain:

whether he had speed to run to match this beauty,

or was merely one of those table-dogs men keep,

310the kind their masters tend for show alone."

And you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:

"Only too true: this is the dog of a man who died far away.

If he were now in form and action such

as Odysseus left him, going away to Troy,

315you would stare at the speed and strength of him.

Nothing escaped him in the deep places of the wood,

no game he chased: he was surest of all on a trail.

Now he is in a bad way: his master has perished

far from home, and the women are careless and give him no tending.

320Slaves — when their masters lose the upper hand,³⁵

they will no longer do their work as it should be done:

for Zeus of the wide voice takes half the worth away

from a man, the day the day of slavery seizes him."

So speaking he entered the well-settled house

325and went straight down the hall among the haughty suitors.

But Argus — the doom of black death took him³⁶

the moment he had seen Odysseus, in the twentieth year.

And godlike Telemachus was far the first to see

the swineherd coming down the house; and quickly then

330he nodded, calling him over. Glancing about, he took a stool

that lay there, where the carver would sit

while carving meat in plenty for the suitors feasting through the house;

this he carried and set at Telemachus' table,

opposite him, and sat down on it himself. And a herald

335took up a portion and set it before him, with bread lifted from the basket.

And close behind him Odysseus entered the house

in the likeness of a beggar, wretched and old,

leaning on a stick, with miserable clothing on his body.

He sat down on the ash-wood threshold, inside the doors,³⁷

340leaning against the cypress doorpost, which a carpenter

once planed with skill and trued to the line.

And Telemachus called the swineherd to him and said —

taking a whole loaf out of the beautiful basket,

and meat, as much as his two cupped hands could hold —

345"Take these and give them to the stranger, and tell him this:

to go the round of the suitors, every one, and beg.

Shame is no good companion to a man in need."³⁸

So he spoke; and the swineherd went when he heard the word,

and standing close he spoke winged words:

350"Telemachus gives you these, stranger, and he bids you

go the round of the suitors, every one, and beg.

Shame, he says, is no good thing in a beggar-man."

Then Odysseus of the many designs answered him:

"Lord Zeus — grant me that Telemachus be blessed among men,

355and that all his heart desires be brought to pass."

He spoke, and took it in both hands, and set it down

there at his feet, on the shabby pouch,

and ate, all the while the singer sang in the halls;

and when he had done his meal, the godlike singer ended.

360And the suitors raised a din through the hall. But Athena

came and stood close by Laertes' son Odysseus

and urged him on: to go gathering crusts among the suitors,

and learn which of them were decent and which were lawless —

though even so she had no mind to save one man of them from ruin.³⁹

365So he set off, going right-handed round, begging from each man,

stretching out his hand on every side, as if he had begged all his life.⁴⁰

And they pitied him and gave, and wondered at him,

and asked each other who he was and where he came from.

And Melanthius the goatherd spoke among them:

370"Hear me, you suitors of the far-famed queen,

about this stranger: I have seen him before.

It was the swineherd, no other, brought him here;

the man himself I do not know for certain — where he claims his birth."

So he spoke; and Antinous laid into the swineherd:

375"You — swineherd — everyone knows you. Why did you bring

this thing to town? Have we not vagrants enough already,

beggar-pests, lickers of feast-plates?

Do you think it a small matter that they gather here

and eat your master's living away — and now you invite one more?"

380And you answered him, Eumaeus the swineherd:

"Antinous — well-born you may be, but that was not well spoken.

Who ever goes himself and invites a stranger

from abroad — unless it be one of the public workers:⁴¹

a seer, a healer of sickness, a builder in timber,

385or an inspired singer, who delights with his singing?

Those men are invited the wide earth over;

but a beggar — who would invite a beggar, to eat him bare?

No: of all the suitors you are always hardest

on the slaves of Odysseus, and beyond all on me. But I —

390I care nothing, so long as steady-hearted Penelope

lives in the halls, and godlike Telemachus."

Then clear-headed Telemachus answered him:

"Hush — do not trade long speeches with this man.

It is Antinous' way, forever needling, ugly,

395with hard words; and he sets the others on as well."

He spoke, and then to Antinous said winged words:

"Antinous — how finely you care for me, as a father for his son,⁴²

you who order me to drive this stranger from my hall

with a word of command! May god never bring that to pass.

400Take and give to him. I do not grudge it — I order it, I myself.

And have no fear of my mother in this, nor of any

of the slaves in the house of godlike Odysseus.

But no — no such thought is in your breast:

you would far rather eat it yourself than give to another."

405Then Antinous answered him and said:

"Telemachus, high talker, temper past restraining — what a thing to say.

If all the suitors handed him as much as I will,⁴³

this house would keep him at arm's length three full months."

So he spoke, and snatched up the footstool from under the table and showed it —

410the stool where he propped his sleek feet while he feasted.

But all the others gave, and they filled the pouch

with bread and meat. And soon Odysseus was to go

back to the threshold, to taste the Achaeans' free bounty;

but he stopped beside Antinous, and spoke a word to him:

415"Give, friend. You do not look to me the meanest of the Achaeans —

no, the noblest of them: you have the look of a king.⁴⁴

So it is right that you should give even better than the others —

bread; and I would spread your fame over the boundless earth.

For I too once lived in a house among men,

420a fortunate man in a wealthy one, and I often gave to a wanderer,

whoever he might be and whatever need he came in.

Slaves I had past counting, and everything in plenty

by which men live well and get the name of rich.

But Zeus the son of Cronos stripped it all — such, no doubt, was his will —

425he who sent me out with roving pirates

to Egypt, a long road, to be destroyed there.⁴⁵

And in the river of Egypt I moored my curved ships.

Then, you may be sure, I ordered my trusted companions

to stay there by the ships and guard the ships,

430and I sent out scouts to the lookout places.

But they gave way to arrogance — followed their own force —

and straightway began to pillage the beautiful fields

of the Egyptian men: they carried off the women and small children,

and killed the men. And quickly the cry reached the city.

435Hearing the shout, at the showing of dawn the people

came; and the whole plain filled with infantry and horses

and the lightning of bronze. And Zeus who delights in thunder

threw an evil panic on my companions, and no man dared

stand and face it: for destruction ringed us everywhere.

440There they killed many of us with the sharp bronze,

and others they led up alive, to slave for them by force.

But me they gave to a guest-friend who met them there, for Cyprus —

Dmetor, Iasus' son, who ruled Cyprus by his strength.

From there I have come here now, suffering hardship."

445Then Antinous answered him and raised his voice:

"What god has brought this plague here to sour the feast?

Stand off there, in the middle, away from my table,

or you may come soon to a bitter Egypt and a bitter Cyprus —⁴⁶

a bold and shameless beggar you are!

450You stand by every man in turn, and they give

recklessly: there is no holding back, no scruple

in being generous with other men's goods — each has plenty at hand."⁴⁷

Then Odysseus of the many designs drew back and said:

"Well, well. So the wits in you are no match for the looks!

455You would not give so much as a grain of salt from your own stores,⁴⁸

you who sit now at another man's table and cannot

bring yourself to take of the bread and give it — and plenty is at hand."

So he spoke; and Antinous grew the angrier at heart,

and glaring from under his brows he spoke winged words:

460"Now I do not think you leave this hall so prettily

after all — not now you take to insults too."

With that he seized the footstool and threw it, and struck the right shoulder⁴⁹

low, at the base of the back. And he stood like rock,

steady: the cast of Antinous did not stagger him.

465He only shook his head, silent, brooding evils deep in his heart.⁵⁰

Then he went back to the threshold and sat, and laid down

the well-filled pouch, and spoke out among the suitors:

"Hear me, you suitors of the far-famed queen,

while I say what the heart in my breast commands.

470There is no grief in the mind, no sorrow worth the name,

when a man is struck fighting for his own possessions,

for his cattle, say, or his silver-white sheep.

But Antinous struck me for my wretched belly's sake,

that accursed thing, which gives so many evils to men.

475If anywhere there are gods and Furies for beggars,⁵¹

may death's end find Antinous before any wedding."

Then Antinous answered him, Eupeithes' son:

"Sit still and eat, stranger, or take yourself elsewhere —

or for words like these the young men will drag you through the house

480by hand or foot, and flay the skin from every part of you."

So he spoke; but all the rest were angered beyond measure,

and one of the arrogant young men would say:

"Antinous — that was not well done, striking the luckless wanderer.

Doomed man! — what if he should be some god come down from heaven?

485And the gods do go about, in the likeness of strangers⁵²

from far countries, taking every shape, and move through the cities,

watching over the violence of men, and the good order they keep."

So the suitors spoke; but he paid no heed to their words.

And Telemachus nursed a great grief swelling in his heart

490for the striking of him; yet he let no tear fall to the ground,

but only shook his head, silent, brooding evils deep in his heart.⁵³

And when watchful-minded Penelope heard of it —

the man struck in the hall — she said among her slave-women:

"So may Apollo the famed archer strike you, Antinous!"

495And the housekeeper Eurynome added her word:⁵⁴

"If an end could only come in answer to our prayers,

not one of these men would live to see fair-throned Dawn."

Then watchful-minded Penelope answered her:

"Nurse, they are enemies all, for they all plot evil;

500but Antinous most of all is like black doom itself.⁵⁵

Some luckless stranger wanders through the house

begging alms of the men — his poverty commands him —

and all the others filled his pouch and gave,

but that one struck him with a footstool at the base of the right shoulder."

505So she spoke among her attendant slave-women,

sitting in her chamber. And meanwhile noble Odysseus was at his meal.

And she called the noble swineherd to her side and said:

"Go, noble Eumaeus. Tell the stranger to come here,

so I may greet him a little, and ask him

510whether he has heard anything of enduring-hearted Odysseus,

or seen him with his eyes. He looks a far-wandered man."

And you answered her, Eumaeus the swineherd:

"If only the Achaeans would keep silence for you, queen:

the things he tells would charm your very heart.

515Three nights I had him, three days I kept him with me

in the hut — for I was the first he came to, running from a ship —

and even so he never finished the tale of his sufferings.

As a man gazes at a singer, who sings to mortals⁵⁶

lessons of longing that the gods have taught him,

520and they ache to hear him on and on, as long as he will sing —

so that man cast his spell on me, sitting in my house.

And he says he is a guest-friend of Odysseus' father's line,

and lives in Crete, where the race of Minos is.

From there he has come here now, suffering hardship,

525tumbled on and on; and he swears he has heard of Odysseus⁵⁷

near, in the rich land of the Thesprotian men,

alive — and bringing treasures home in plenty."

Then watchful-minded Penelope answered him:

"Go, call him here, so he can tell it to my face.

530And those men — let them sit at the doors and amuse themselves,

or here in the house, since their hearts are merry.

Their own possessions lie untouched at home,

bread and sweet wine: their house-folk eat that,

while they crowd our house day after day,

535slaughtering our oxen and sheep and fat goats,

feasting away and drinking the sparkling wine

recklessly. The most of it is wasted. For there is no man here,

such as Odysseus was, to ward ruin from the house.

But if Odysseus came — if he reached his own country —

540quickly, with his son, he would repay these men their violence."

So she spoke; and Telemachus sneezed — a great sneeze — and round about⁵⁸

the whole house rang terribly with it. And Penelope laughed,

and quickly spoke winged words to Eumaeus:

"Go — please — and call the stranger here before me.

545Do you not see how my son sneezed on all I said?

So may death be not unaccomplished for the suitors —

for every man of them; not one shall slip out of death and the fates.

And another thing I will tell you: lay it up in your heart.

If I find that everything he says is true,

550I will dress him in a cloak and a tunic, fine clothing."⁵⁹

So she spoke; and the swineherd went when he heard the word,

and standing close he spoke winged words:

"Stranger — father — watchful-minded Penelope is calling for you,⁶⁰

the mother of Telemachus. Her heart bids her ask

555about her husband, for all the griefs she has borne.

And if she finds that everything you say is true,

she will dress you in a cloak and a tunic — the things you need

most of all. And your bread you can beg through the town

and feed your belly; whoever wishes will give to you."

560Then much-enduring noble Odysseus answered him:

"Eumaeus, I would tell it all, truly, and at once,

to the daughter of Icarius, watchful-minded Penelope —

for I know about that man well: we have taken up the same misery.⁶¹

But I am afraid of this mob of hard suitors,

565whose arrogance and violence reach the iron sky.⁶²

Just now, when that man hit me and gave me pain

as I went through the hall doing no harm at all,

neither Telemachus nor any other man stepped in.

So tell Penelope to wait in the halls,

570however eager, until the sun goes down;⁶³

and then let her ask me about her husband's day of homecoming,

giving me a seat closer to the fire: for the clothes

I wear are miserable. You know it yourself — I begged you first of all."

So he spoke; and the swineherd went when he heard the word.

575And as he crossed the threshold Penelope said:

"You do not bring him, Eumaeus? What has the wanderer in mind?

Is he too much afraid of someone? Or shy for some other cause,

here in the house? A shy man makes a bad beggar."⁶⁴

And you answered her, Eumaeus the swineherd:

580"He speaks as is right — as anyone would judge who thought it through —

wanting to keep clear of the insolence of these overbearing men.

He asks you to wait until the sun goes down.

And for you too, queen, it is far the better way:

to speak your word to the stranger alone, and hear him alone."

585Then watchful-minded Penelope answered him:

"The stranger is no fool. He guesses what could happen:⁶⁵

for I think there are no men anywhere, none among mortals,

who plot such reckless evil in their insolence."

So she spoke her say; and the noble swineherd went off

590into the crowd of the suitors, when he had told her everything,

and at once he spoke winged words to Telemachus,

leaning his head close, so the others would not hear:

"Friend, I am going back, to watch the swine and all that is there —

your living and mine. And everything here — let it be your care.

595Keep yourself safe first of all, and be watchful at heart

that nothing happens to you. Many of the Achaeans think evil —

may Zeus wipe them out before harm comes to us!"

Then clear-headed Telemachus answered him:

"So be it, old father. Go when you have had your evening meal;⁶⁶

600and in the morning come again, and bring fine beasts for slaughter.

All the rest shall be my care, and the deathless ones'."

So he spoke; and the other sat down again on the polished stool,

and when he had filled his heart with food and drink,

he went his way to his swine, and left the walls and the hall

605full of banqueters; and they were delighting in dance and song,

for already the day had come on to evening.⁶⁷